The publication of The Reluctant Sister marks an unusual and highly gratifying triumph for the publishers of Dansk Blue Books. The eminent scholar and author of many erudite tomes known only to specialists in his own field, Professor Isaac Cox has long been a close personal friend of ours-but has openly never quite considered us as players in his intellectual league. For months-in fact, for years-we have attempted to persuade him to write for us, but of course we could not presume too far on the grounds of deep camaraderie and mutual respect alone. Professor Cox was more than ready to concede that we knew the commercial book publishing field better than he did but he was not willing to admit that there was any significant degree of overlap in the audiences to which we were addressing ourselves.
It was only after the first several Dansk Blue Books were off the presses and in the hands of the reading public that Professor Cox came to us voluntarily, admitted that he had been wrong about the scope of our ambitions, and actually asked to be permitted to write a Dansk novel himself. We hope and believe our pleasure is not that felt over a mere petty victory; we sincerely think that it is a tremendously important victory for all concerned when a man of the stature of Professor Cox realizes how important a medium the so-called popular novel can be.
It was only to be expected that, having once made up his mind to tackle the job at all, Professor Cox would produce a multi-faceted gem of a novel about the ongoing social change in Southern California's suburban communities. Primarily a motivational sociologist, Cox believes that the changing mores of the nation tend to follow the lead of this part of our great Western state.
The profession probably most representative of a culture, Professor Cox further believes, is journalism; and so he has chosen to tell the story of The Reluctant Sister, the true-to-life tale of a young female reporter through whose eyes the reader is permitted to glimpse the cultural adjustments Americans are making under the pressure of the advanced technology which motivates their lives and corrupts their environments.
Not since The Front Page has the newspaper business been so thoroughly and accurately portrayed; not since Citizen Kane have its effects on the lives of all of our citizens been so graphically limned; and not since Nathanael West's Miss Lonelyhearts and The Day of the Locust has so much knowledge of both journalism and Southern California been made important use of by a major writer. Rarely has society and its effects upon the individual been so starkly described as they are here, and even more rarely has an author compressed so much social comment and philosophical observation into one novel.
It is almost impossible, in fact, to recall any work of fiction so dedicated to the study of a whole society in microcosm. Every aspect of our present transition into a new and radically altered society is considered by Professor Cox in this book. Based on first-hand experience as well as methodical and intensive research, The Reluctant Sister describes the full range of psychological harm done to the human animal during his sojourn on this smog-enshrouded planet.
Where is man going? Professor Cox hardly dares to guess but, in this account of man in flux as he rides the mainstream of life in a small city, the author notes with precise care the melding of classes formerly separated by financial barriers, the breakdown of the individual's work orientation, and the still-rigid cliquishness of far too many of America's social and racial groups.
And, in all of this, where is the morality of our fathers? Where have the comfortable old days gone and what has replaced them? Money grubbing would seem to be a good answer, if a superficial one. There is more, however, as Professor Cox entertainingly but thought-provokingly points out in the story of Nan Flanders, 18-year-old girl reporter-or sob sister, if you will.
The individual still exists. Though he may be caught in the inexorable tide of human passion and inhuman attitudes and poses, the individual always shines through like a glint of metal in the oily muck of progress.
This work stands out as one of those rare shouts of sanity in today's madhouse of highspeed communications. It is a stern and sober warning of things to come. It is a socially significant and highly successful attempt to show graphically the ills, the evils, the weaknesses and the overwhelming perversion of man's ambitions and ideals in today's restless and confused rat race of a world.
The publishers, therefore, consider it a signal honor to be allowed to broadcast this message, and we hope that it is heard the world over.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Nan Flanders was exuberant. Today she was given her first real assignment. As the New Toronto Gazette's cub reporter, she had thus far covered school board meetings, bird and bug club gatherings and ladies' teas. Now came her big chance!
Nan, at eighteen years of age, was lovely to behold. Male members of the small Southern California daily had panted after her form from the first moment she stepped into the newsroom as a bonafide employee... all to no avail. Nan resisted their wiles while at the same time increasing their determination.
Her refusal to surrender to their most ardent entreaties was not through any puritanical instinct. Nan was a virgin by choice and despite close brushes with complete surrender she had always drawn upon some inner strength which caused the suitor of the moment no small amount of frustration. Nan had no illusions. She knew that someday, sooner or later, a man would come along to whom she would give herself completely. She had only one reservation in the back of her mind and that was that she must be sure she loved him. It was her one strength... or weakness.
Mae Gail Jetty, the town's one and only claim to fame, had been killed in a plane crash Sunday night. It was now Monday morning and Nan's city editor had assigned her to dig up all the background she could find on the late millionairess and philanthropist. The New Toronto Gazette wanted to run an extensive, in-depth feature story on the late Mrs. Jetty.
Nan skimmed through the Gazette's chintzy morgue and managed to find a few names connected with the globe-trotting Mrs. Jetty. She also read every bit of information the files held regarding Mrs. Jetty herself.
Mae Gail DiMintri was born February 17, 1925 to parents of moderate income and unspectacular accomplishments. Her early childhood was a blank. Nothing in the files indicated exactly what took place in Mae's New Toronto school days until she reached the second year of high school. Then a small clipping revealed that her interest seemed to indicate a natural bent for business and finance. The clipping noted that she had won an award in a statewide contest for the best student written essay on economic change in a wartime democracy. That had been in 1941, only two months before the attack on Pearl Harbor.
About this time Mrs. Jetty became involved with the son of a local banker, Paul Hanley. Paul was twenty-three when he first met the beguiling Mae who was sixteen. Paul was 4-F which left him on the home front to woo and sin many a lass whose boyfriends were off to the war. 1942 was a good year for the charming and personable Hanley. He had just graduated from Clavey College where he had distinguished himself in business administration. His flashy 1941 model convertible was one of the few in town and the lonesome young females were ripe for plucking... plucking, that is.
None of the information in the files indicated to Nan any such goings-on and all Nan could really ascertain was that Mae had evidently been tutored by Hanley in the ways of the business world. Several clippings told of smaller financial coups credited to Mae before she reached the age of twenty-five. Always, it seemed, Paul Hanley was in the background. His guiding hand was ever present.
Nan had the first lead on her big story. She would contact Hanley and arrange an interview that day. She was certain he was capable of giving her much information on the early money-making days of Mrs. Jetty. Then, too, he might be able to give her names of other persons who could contribute to the New Toronto Gazette's story of the year.
Nan's editor, John Lopez, was about Mae's age and had lived in New Toronto since the war, but said he knew nothing about Mrs. Jetty except that she was rich and generous. He showed her clippings from his private file.
"Read these before you start interviewing people," he said, handing her the neatly trimmed stack of old news stories. She spent an hour going through them, taking notes as she read. They were all pretty much the same thing: descriptions of Mrs. Jetty endowing an education fund for ghetto dwellers and financing orphanages and libraries. She had built hospitals all over the world; had spent hundreds of thousands of dollars helping the American Indian; had tried in her travels to drop a little silver into every poverty pocket she passed; and generally had spent her tremendous wealth on everyone but herself.
"There's more to her life," Lopez told her when she brought the clippings back to his office, "but it's mostly gossip. All I know is there used to be some wild times around New Toronto when she lived here," he grinned lecherously. He always grinned lecherously, Nan thought. It's the only way he knows how to grin.
"I don't know if she was involved in it," he added, "because frankly, I wouldn't know Mae Gail Jetty if I sat on her... you should pardon the expression." Nan winced and her reaction drew a nasty guffaw from him.
"You have until Saturday to hand in a story for the Sunday supplement," he said, looking at her in a way that made Nan's skin crawl. If Mr. Lopez half tried, thought Nan, he could really be a dirty old man. His eyes seemed to devour her.
She told him where she was going and then headed for the home of Paul Hanley.
Paul Hanley owned a huge house in the rich section of town. He didn't live in the house, however, because he realized a nice profit by leasing it. He lived at the rear portion of the property in what in the old days had been servants' quarters above a spacious garage.
Hanley was fifty-three and still fancied himself a lady killer. His graying black hair added to the distinguished appearance which was only slightly marred by the beginning of a paunch. He had little cause to work anymore though he still kept an office in town. Most of his time was spent exercising his limber muscles and looking around Southern California for virgins to seduce. All of his adult life had been spent in that search and he could verify what he described as fifteen kills, starting with Mae Gail DiMintri all those years ago. Hanley did not, of course, ignore other women-dozens of them knew his private gate and the back stairs to his apartment-but he always had an eye out for a susceptible virgin.
He was sure he saw one now; a very small girl was walking up the driveway, her blue minidress giving the hint of luscious curves and very large, full breasts. She lilted as she walked and Paul Hanley knew that only a virgin could suggest such depth of innocence merely by her gait. Her hair was bright red and her flesh seemed to give off a reddish aura. He guessed who she was; the girl reporter who had called him that morning. Yes, that was the voice of a virgin... it had made Paul's skin crawl just to hear it.
He watched her from his living-room window as she clicked her high heels down the driveway... She was tiny but her legs were magnificent and her walk had a swing to it that made every curve and crevice show even though she obviously wasn't aware of it. When she turned to start up his front stairs, he saw and measured the shape and fullness of her lovely young ass beneath the thin material of her dress. Where my eyes are now, he told himself, my hands soon will be.
He listened to her feet on the neatly painted wooden stairs as he opened his liquor cabinet and placed a small, white pill behind a Scotch bottle. The soft chimes sounded as she punched the doorbell, and he walked slowly to the door.
"Miss Flanders?" he said, ushering her in. Her face was equal to the rest of her. She was beautiful, and she was a virgin or his name wasn't Paul Hanley, the hymen breaker, now looking for number sixteen.
"I am sorry you had to climb those stairs, Miss Flanders. Let me get you a drink."
Before Nan could say anything the fatherly appearing Paul Hanley had seated her on the couch and handed her an ice-filled glass of Scotch and soda.
The room seemed inexplicably dark to her. Curtains filtered the midday sunlight and only one lamp was burning, its soft glow causing sparkles to glint from the bottles and glasses on the liquor cabinet beneath it. The room was expensively furnished and every inch a man's study; all leather and darkly gleaming wood.
He sat next to her and pulled a coffee table closer to them for their drinks.
She took a notebook from her purse. "I'm trying to find out all I can about Mrs. Jetty," she said as businesslike as possible. His closeness made her a little nervous.
His body seemed to stiffen at her remark. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "Were the two of you very close?"
"It's all right," he said. "I think I can talk about poor Mae. She was a wonderful woman, you know... but her death... was so recent."
His face seemed to Nan that of a father who had lost a daughter, its expression so deeply sad and yet brave. She reached out almost involuntarily and touched him. He immediately clutched her hand in both of his.
"You... you're obviously a very understanding person," he said, "despite your youth."
Nan was touched and she felt herself blushing. No older person had ever given her credit for being understanding... and Mr. Hanley was such a fatherly looking and kind man.
I've got you, you little cunt! Hanley was thinking. He watched how she sat, pressing her legs together and primly holding her untouched drink balanced on one knee while her notebook sat uselessly beside her. Press your beautiful thighs against that untouched pussy, a voice inside him was screaming. I'll be there... and damn soon. This looks easier than I thought... easier even than Mae had been.
"I kind of get the feeling that Mrs. Jetty was like a daughter to you," Nan said tentatively, interrupting his thoughts.
"Well, not exactly," Hanley said. "More like a friend. We were partners, you know... long ago we were partners in business... and in other... activities."
"What sort of... uh... activities... if you don't mind my asking?"
"Life itself, my child. All the activities that make life worth living were shared between that darling girl and me. You must drink your drink, my dear, or the ice will melt and ruin it."
Mr. Hanley wasn't much older that her editor, thought Nan, but what a difference. Old Lopez with his leering eyes and his dirty stories was no equal to this man, who was apparently so human, and yet so worldly. It must be his broad experience in life that made him affect her this way... made her feel safe and somehow warm. She finished her drink and put it down.
He was up like a cat, though she hardly noticed his movement as being overly fast, so enchanted with him was she.
"One more drink before we talk," he said. He walked noiselessly to the bar. As fresh ice tinkled into the glass, the small white pill went in too. A little time, he thought, to let it melt... a little more Scotch in this one. She's almost ready. We'll start with a little of Mae's favorite pornographic art and then up that virgin cunt we go.
Fixing his face in the fatherly look that she seemed to appreciate, he turned to her again. "Just the other day I received a gift from Mae... from the Orient," he said. "There on the table."
He indicated a large book on Indian temples. Nan picked it up. It was heavy and she set its back in the crevice of her legs and opened it.
"Mae was a great believer in all facets of life," said Hanley, wishing the pill would melt a little faster. "Just like the Hindus, she wanted every act of man to be honored for itself." As he watched her face, she began to blush again, this time more deeply.
She had opened the book in the middle somewhere and the pages she saw on her lap contained two views of an old temple that was ringed for decoration, she supposed, by row upon row of human statues, men and women, engaged for all time in every possible act of sex. All around the temple, these lifeless rocks had their lithic members inserted halfway into lithic cavities, anal and oral as well as vulval.
He sat next to her, this time even closer, and handed her another drink. She could feel his closeness now but was too overwhelmed by what she was looking at to be wary of him. "You need this, apparently," meaning the drink, "but you mustn't be shocked," his fatherly smile assured her, "at this ancient and very respected monument to man's most delightful activity... Mae would be in full accord with me when I say that what you see there are acts as holy as any prayer... for, in fact, this is a holy temple dedicated to an ancient and very important pantheon."
He placed his body against her and put his arm around her to help her hold the book up. He turned a page and Nan almost gasped to see that close-ups of the statues that were printed there.
"You see the deep respect for their subject the artists had when they carved this holy relic. Only a virgin would fail to appreciate the full impact, the full meaning... but you must drink your drink, my child. And then we'll discuss more of Mae's hobbies and thoughts."
Nan, lost in confusion and shock, didn't have the presence of mind not to obey. She downed her drink in one gulp and set the glass on the table. It was Hanley's turn to gasp. He had never seen anyone take the whole pill all at once. God only knows what would happen now.
Nan closed the book, trying to keep her mind on business, to crowd out the images of those stone fornicators. Fumbling for her notebook, she started to ask him something, but just then a volcano erupted in her stomach. Hot lava flowed through her, sending heat right out to her fingers and toes, but centering in her pelvis and now moving slowly into her vagina. She was afraid to look for fear smoke would be rising from her lap.
"You drank too fast," he said, moving his arm... "Oops! I'm terribly sorry." He had spilled his drink down the front of her dress and Nan, emotionally flustered by the heat raging through her, began to cry.
She felt the cold liquid slide down the hollow between her breasts, then over her belly, finally into her panties and down all the way into her pubic hair and between her legs. Her nether lips were so hot from the recent explosion in her insides that she was surprised the liquid didn't sizzle when she felt its freezing cold inundate her cunt. A little ice cube-filled puddle lay in her lap.
"You must get out of those wet things," Hanley said, his voice dripping with fatherly concern. '"You poor thing, you could catch your death."
She looked at him, her face a study in desperate confusion and, he could see, underlying passion brought about by his own secret cure for virginity. Over the years, that little white pill has served him well... and most of them blamed themselves so he got them at least one more time when they came back to apologize.
"In the other room," he instructed, "you'll find a nice warm robe. We can put your things in the dryer while we talk." He was using a handy towel to pat and dry her lap... lovingly, he stroked the thighs under her dress and, like a good mother hen, admonished her to hurry and get into something warm.
Hanley kept his air conditioner on high for such occasions as these, and Nan was freezing by the time he had finished drying her off. Beginning to be suspicious of his motives, she was almost afraid to go into the next room for fear it would be a bedroom and for fear that she would not be alone in there for long.
It was not a bedroom, she was relieved to discover when she had closed the door behind her, and he hadn't even made a move to pursue her. Guilt flowed through her for thinking evil of Hanley who, after all, was only trying to help her get to know Mae as he had. Such intimate knowledge was extremely valuable.
The room was an office. It was connected to a bathroom and beyond that to the bedroom. By handy chance, it seemed to her, a large man's robe was thrown over a typewriter on the room's only piece of furniture, a table. The muscles of her pelvis agitated her movements as she undressed. She couldn't understand why they dilated and contracted in a motion equal to her pulse; she couldn't understand the strange heat that suffused her crotch and made her pubic lips quiver as if in anticipation; she couldn't understand the hollow aching in her vaginal regions.
She came back with the robe wrapped around her, completely covering the naked morsel within it. Hanley smiled warmly as he took her wet clothes. When they were safely in the dryer and the machine set to run for too short a time, he came back and mixed them two more drinks. Now it starts, he thought gleefully... the last act.
He sat close to her and began to tell her about Mae Gail Jetty's rise to financial success. He wrote out a list for her of other people in town who had known Mae. He talked for several minutes, and appeared very engrossed in his subject-then he stopped. Nan's crotch was a seething cauldron. The terrible aching in it was expanding all the way up to the pit of her stomach. A great hard knot seemed to be forming in her tummy and she was at a loss to explain to herself the churning desire between her thighs.
"My, dear, I can't help noticing that you're squirming. Do I make you uncomfortable?" He put a comforting arm around her.
"No. I don't know what's wrong."
"Does your stomach bother you... perhaps the drink is too heady..." his hand went into the robe and began to massage the bare flesh of her belly.
His touch made her jump as it resounded through her, cell by cell, awakening something that had lain dormant all her life. She could feel whole new sets of muscles working within her, trying to gain expression on their own, apparently whether or not she wanted to allow it. A flexing and relaxing motion in her crotch was causing her to wriggle where she sat, as if her hind end was trying to rut itself into the cushion.
Her first thought was to hit him and try to make a run for it, clothes or no clothes. She only had to make it to her car and then drive home to get a new dress. But something wouldn't let her do anything to stop him. Two opposing points of view struggled in her guts, one warning her she was about to be raped, the other pooh-poohing the whole idea, declaring that a nice man like Mr. Hanley would never do anything to hurt her. She honestly didn't know how to react. She knew, however, that she had better do something, so she said, "Oh. That feels good. That feels much better... very soothing... I don't know what's come over me."
His warm hand was a welcome sensation on her chilly flesh. He rubbed slowly, his hand making an ever-widening circle until she tingled to feel it touch her pubic hair on the down-sweep and both her breasts on the upsweep.
Like her crotch, her breasts were throbbing in an ever-tightening ache. She could feel them getting harder each time his circling hand touched them. He's doing that on purpose, she thought. He doesn't have to rub everything I've got; it was just my tummy we were talking about. It was no use thinking about it or offering any objections to it, however, because her breasts were thickening with longing and seemed to want to be touched, rubbed, massaged, and even... their painful swelling brought her to another small crisis and she couldn't help herself-was even surprised to hear herself-when she cried, "Oh, Mr. Hanley, would you... could you... would it be awful of me..."
"My poor child, what is it?"
"It's only... I don't know... My breasts do ache so..."
"Why certainly," he agreed readily.
Opening the robe, he exposed two large, round, full white, pink-tipped, hardening breasts that throbbed to the touch of his hands, both of which now went to work to massage those ripe young elastic bulbs.
"Ooooohhh," she moaned. "I never felt so goooood."
Nan could feel his hot hands kneading and plying the foam-backed flesh of her breasts. It sent warmth through her whole being as he worked around them, cupping them so that only the red nipples stuck out, pressing them together to rub one nipple against the other until they became so hard she was afraid they would shatter like two glass knobs.
Then he placed both palms over the nipples and pressed them in a circular motion as if trying to rub her breasts back into her chest. When he let go they sprang back into shape and he cupped them again so that the nipples looked out between each thumb and forefinger. She was fascinated, watching his manipulations with glazed eyes. Then she saw his face move closer, then the top of his graying head as she at once smelled his hair oil and felt her left nipple enter something warm and wet.
Hanley kept his eyes open and saw then blue veins in the flesh of her chest and breasts and he began a gentle sucking of the nipple in his mouth. He worked his tongue on the nipple and shifted position to move more of the breast into his mouth while the tongue teased the nipple, licking from the bottom, then from the top and then in a swirling motion that made her body twitch in pain and pleasure.
Nan felt a movement in her vagina with every pull of Hanley's rhythmically sucking mouth. The ache in the belly, rather than diminishing, was ballooning. She tingled all over, but didn't understand what was happening to her. She only knew it couldn't stop... if it stopped, she'd die. She had no other thoughts until his mouth took the other breast and she felt the cold air surround her abandoned left nipple as the moist warmth of him embraced the right.
No, she cried from within: No. No. He's going to try to rape me. I've let him go too far. He's got to stop... even if the aching in my stomach kills me.
"Please stop," she said weakly. "Please, Mr. Hanley. We're not animals... are we? We mustn't do this."
His only answer was to bite her nipple, jerking a scream of pain from her. "Oooww. God, that hurts. Don't do it like that."
But that wasn't all, she soon realized. She was relaxed so thoroughly that her firmly closed legs had fallen laxly apart and his probing hand darted between her thighs, one finger rubbing the lips of her cunt from just inside them. It tried to enter her but she was sitting and he couldn't get his fist deep enough between her now clamping thighs. She felt the juices of her cunt laving his finger as it moved up one lip to the front and down the other all the way to the back of her precious opening. Back and forth it went sliding in her lubricating fluids, constantly pressuring to enter her and seek out her clitoris as his shoulder pressed against her, trying to force her into a lying position, and his mouth sucked at her breasts, alternately taking each into it and holding it so that his tongue could renew its attack on her nipple.
A tremendous throbbing was coming from her pubic muscles. She could feel her vagina open and close, fairly wriggling to get at the finger now trying to enter her. She knew she couldn't resist much longer and, loathing her own weakness, she began sliding down the couch's support cushions to lie on her back.
The throbbing inside her was now out of control, unstoppable and uncontainable, in the deep unentered recesses of her womb. She wanted to feel his penis inside her; she knew now that what she wanted was described by that ugly, awful word she had never mouthed. She wanted to be fucked, had to be fucked... if that was what would quiet her raging insides... even to be raped.
Hanley sensed her going down. With one last push, he had her on her back and was immediately on top of her and between her rising knees. He swept open the robe and drew in his breath at the rare beauty before him. Her flesh seemed to be a golden red and gave off an aura of that color. Her full, round breasts stood straight up, so hard were they, and throbbed out the meter of lust. The belly button centered in her soft white belly was an eye of desire; the red hairs of her pubic vee sent rosy invitations all the way through him down to his dancing prick, still imprisoned by his trousers. The hair between her legs curled around a virgin's cunt that, due to the aphrodisiac he had given her, called him with trembling red lips. His clothes practically flew off his body of their own accord and his prick leaped up to answer the call. It stood out erect and pulsating, its slit offering a drop of lubricant to the goddess cavern trying to open itself to his planned thrust.
Nan, through passion-hazed eyes, saw him throw away his shirt before she realized his pants were already on the floor. Then she saw his prick... that first one she had ever seen. Its head was purple-red and slimy from his juices-she wondered if he had already cum-its thick shaft was distended with blue veins and the whole thing jerked up and down in rhythm with his pulse just as her womb seemed to be opening and closing with hers. His foreskin had already been pulled back and the little slit in the head of his prick seemed to be opening, creating such a hole that she thought she could have inserted her little finger into it.
Despite the condition of his lust-filled member, Paul was in control of himself. He leaned over her, caressing her breasts again. They were by now painfully sensitive, but his touch felt good. She lay there with her eyes closed, waiting for something else to happen. She was afire but also scared, and she lay, her eyes wide open now with as much fear as desire, like some poor helpless creature of the jungle confronted by a killer snake.
Paul moved over her, letting go of her breasts. She closed her eyes again, not knowing what to do. He kissed her belly, licking furtively into her belly button, then continued down... down. She started to grit her teeth when she felt the first gentle kiss of his hot lips against her hungry virginal cunt. She almost went insane. He began to lick that aching slit, and the touch and feel of his wet tongue sent her into a new physical state of readiness. That's how it was, she thought, marveling, for she had never realized that there was so much to the sex act. She groaned and joyous ripples of pleasure spread out through her. Now Paul found the clitoris with his tongue and, licking as he went, moved down to her tightly puckered little anus. Then he changed technique, like the master he was, and his lips became a vacuum cleaner at her vagina. So powerful was his effort that she feared momentarily that he would suck every organ right out through her cunt.
Then, with his hands strategically placed between her warm satiny thighs, he began opening with his thumbs the pink fringed slit so delicate-looking with its soft red hair, two tiny glistening droplets of moisture dampening the little pink inner petals that peeked out at him. Now a hideous lust came over him and showed in his face as Mr. Hyde finally emerged from the defeated Dr. Jekyll.
Suddenly she wanted out from under him, wanted his laving tongue to get away from her virgin slit. But she lay seemingly rooted to the couch, her terror-filled eyes pleading, as he again placed his thumbs to rest on the soft, fleshy lips of her cunt and torturously drew them apart, spreading the soft curls of pubic hair and laying open her moist, coral-tinted secret flesh to his no longer paternal gaze.
Nan now saw herself as if from outside her body and was repulsed at what she was allowing to happen. But her body wouldn't respond to her inner cries to escape.
She cringed in revulsion as she felt the hot wisps of his breath graze her sensitive, virginal flesh, never before defiled, and she moaned aloud in hopeless shame, her head raised, her breath strangling in her throat as she heard him issue an animal grunt and saw his face drop... abruptly she felt the full length of his hot tongue plunge wetly up into her tight, quivering vaginal passage. She struggled but her own passion overwhelmed her. She closed her soft warm thighs convulsively around his moving head. She could feel his ears wiggling against the velvety inner thighs. She screamed unrestrainedly when he suddenly bit her sensitive clitoris.
She was completely at his mercy. Nothing now existed but the insistent throbbing in her cunt and the tongue that now laved it with oral desires. Her back was arched like a bridge as it bent upward toward his eager lips. Her feet dug into the cushions beneath her and then she thought she felt something happening inside her, a new explosion like the one she so unexplainably experienced just a short while ago.
Throwing her legs apart, she flailed them, kicking her feet in joy and lust and the volcano erupted again, not in her stomach this time but in her cunt, and she felt a release so deep it was almost spiritual wash down her passage into the mouth of her attacker. She collapsed, her legs falling on the couch. Thinking that was all, she stirred to get up, but felt him lifting her knees and pushing them up until they pressed against her softening breasts and the soles of her feet aimed right at the ceiling. She opened her eyes. His face was next to hers and he kissed her savagely; she tasted for the first time the honey of her own cunt and the singular acidic sweetness of her own cum.
Gradually, Paul Hanley lowered himself onto her body. And now she could feel the hardness of that awesome male instrument down there where, only a minute before, her juices had flooded his soft hot mouth. She was about to be fucked-fucked like she had never imagined it would be... by a total stranger. The understanding of what was happening took over her drugged brain, but it didn't matter. She felt herself tensing, preparing for she knew not what.
He was over her, holding her knees to her chest, his cock rubbing against her slime-washed cunt, now wide open and pulsing to his ravening eyes. His flesh was blotchy red with his age, and a little potbelly sagged from his middle, but his cock was only in its twenties by the look of it. Without using his hands, he moved its head into the yawning red slit. It lodged before the whole head was in, and would go no further despite the lungings of his hip and ass muscles.
She felt like she was being split in two. Don't, she screamed to herself. "It's too big, Mr. Hanley," she pleaded. "You'll split me in two. Please don't try."
"Never you mind," he said. "There's always a way."
Gripping her knees again, he spread her legs as far as they would go, then pulled a cushion from the back of the couch and stuffed it under her hind end. "Hold your legs as far up and out as you can," he instructed, "and rest your beautiful bottom on this pillow."
He let go her legs and, holding his prick with one hand while spreading her cuntlips with the fingers of the other, he relodged the head of his manroot and began pushing his way into her vital parts. After the first inch he stopped. "Hurt?" He looked at her.
It had been painful, but she was afraid he would stop if she admitted it. "No. It's all right."
He wiggled his hips more violently and worked in another inch. "Okay?"
She was squirming in pain but could feel her cuntal walls adjusting to his size. "Keep going," she said. The soft rustling movement of his hairy scrotum against her tender, wide-open asshole was driving her crazy. With each of his movements, that pendulous cum-filled bag plopped on her dilating sphincter and cuddled her cheeks excitingly.
Paul was about to lose all control. He felt her sheathing him tighter than any girl, even any virgin, had ever done. His prick seemed trapped and he didn't know if he had enough patience to continue working it in with slow massage and buildup of her juices. She had to stretch and, of course, she would stretch before he was through with her. She would open wide and swallow him down and the suction he could feel on his throbbing prick would become a tool to ultimately help use men as she wanted. She had the same type cunt that Mae used to have. And once you got into it you could never forget it. If this Nan Flanders ever learns how to work her vaginal muscles, she'll have hardons leaping at her from every doorway.
He was in a third inch now and could feel her giving way to his prick, her passage now flowing again with encouraging juices.
"Oh, it's much too big," she complained, tears of pain filling her eyes. He could tell it was hurting her so he worked it out and in again, trying to loosen her up.
She could feel its massiveness inside her and she could tell it had a long way to go. But she couldn't take any more. It was just too big, or her poor battered pussy was just too small. As she felt him moving in and out, she rolled her hips to his rhythm. Looking down between her still erect breasts to her uplifted cunt, she could see as well as feel its lips straining to encompass him. His shaft, most of it still showing was red now and the veins stood out as he began flexing his prick to help her stretch to receive him.
"Oh, God. What are you doing?" she cried. His prick jumped up a size with each flexing action and she could swear it grew even bigger after he relaxed it and flexed it again. Her pubic mouth was wide open for him but it didn't seem to be enough. He was lodged. Stuck. They were like two dogs hung up and the thought of two dogs doing just what she was doing with this man embarrassed her.
Finally he stopped flexing his prick and, to her amazement, it slid a little deeper into her, shattering her virginity with utter finality and tearing at her womb with sharp pain which immediately subsided.
"We're going to make it," he shouted and lunged with all his might driving into her untested vitals.
"Aaaaaarrrrrrggggggghhhhhhh!!!" she screamed.
He thrust it into her again, deeper this time, then pulled all the way out until the head of his prick touched her cuntlips and drove down again still deeper into her torn and bleeding vagina.
"Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh. My God! Oh, my Gawd! Oooooooohhhhh, mmmmmmmyy gggaaaaaaaaaaaawwddd!" she screamed with each painful thrust. Each time he drew all the way out along her quivering passage and each time he slammed it to the hilt to the accompaniment of her screams and a sucking, slushing sound from her cunt.
She writhed under him, the pain declining as a mountain of passion grew up to take its place. She felt it in and out of her, thrusting and retreating only to thrust again as her stretched cuntal walls closed on it again and again, her vagina sucking at it, trying to hold it, opening for it each time it pulled away and drove back in again. "Mmmyyyy gawd, it's gooood! Oh, don't ever stop! Fuck me," she said the word for the first time in her life. "Fuck me deeper and deeeper and deeeeeppeeerrr! Fuck meeeeeeeee!"
Now a flaming, raging, throbbing, churning, boiling flood of passion took over her crotch. She rolled her hips to get him in deeper and then clamped her legs around his ass to keep him in.
"Keep it up," he ordered gruffly. "I'm about to cum!" he shouted.
"Oh, God! Not yet. Please not yet. Puuulease wait."
Trying to hold it, Paul gaped downward at where his prick was slipping smoothly in and out of her unbelievably tight little cunt, concentrating on the spine-shattering sensation of the soft hair-lined folds of her clasping pussy as it clung to his furiously rampaging cock ramming with jackhammer force up into her. As he fucked her, he couldn't help thinking of all the things they could do together. He pictured himself holding her ears as his big cock filled her sucking mouth, he could almost feel her tongue willingly washing the slimy head of his throbbing prick; he could picture her on her hands and knees, glorying in her own nakedness as she rolled her thighs and moaned at his length entering her virgin asshole. But these thoughts didn't help him hold his cum. He couldn't help it, he was about to go off.
She, too, knew that her time was here. Her whole insides seemed to broil with lust and she felt her final explosion was upon her.
His balls shriveled up as they bounced against her asshole and she could feel his prick, now planted firmly inside her as their crotches slammed together in that final lunge, begin to jerk spastically as hot fluid spewed from it washing her insides in a warm and glorious bath.
"I'm going to cuummm!" she shouted.
"Aaaaaaahhh!" he shouted.
"I'm there!" she screamed. "I... I'm... IIII'm ccccuummmmmmmiiinnnnnngggggg!"
He spent into her before she could get started, but she had apparently made it even as his prick was diminishing. He was glad of that. If he made her cum her first time, she was likely to come back some day for more of the same. And she had a pussy he was going to want again and again. Leaving her on the couch, he went into the bathroom.
Nan slept, still wrapped up in Paul Hanley's flannel robe. Her sleep was peaceful and deep and before Paul left the apartment he saw her smile in her sleep and softly moan as her body performed a gentle writhing dance. He left for his office, but intended to come back before she woke up. More of the same was in order, as far as he was concerned, and he would treat her to the best dinner in town. The only trouble was he didn't recover as fast as he used to and he needed a couple of hours in between sessions. In the old days, he thought... ah, but one grows old... the spirit is still willing, but the flesh needs hormone shots. Before leaving he wrote her a note just in case she woke up prior to his return and couldn't wait for him.
When she woke up, Nan realized it was already late afternoon. She felt warm and lazy as she stretched and idly wondered where she was. Then the dull ache in her cunt reminded her as she sat up abruptly clutching the robe around her. She listened to the quiet apartment. Nothing. He must have gone out. She relaxed again for every muscle in her light young body had gone tense. Spreading the robe, she looked down at her poor battered pussy. It hurt from the lips all the way in and she rubbed her crotch tenderly, soothingly as she thought of what had happened. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry... she had saved it purposely for eighteen years to give to whomever she could find to love. Now this! Gone. Taken by a total stranger who just happened to know what he was doing. It was degrading. Gone. Forever. Her cherry was gone leaving only a few drops of blood and the crust of their mutual spend in her red pubic hair.
Well, she finally realized, the world hasn't ended... and I've still got a job to do. There was a note on the coffee table. "My dear child," it read, "Thank you so much. Nothing is sweeter to an old man than the love of children. Your clothes are in the dryer. Please call or come to see me again. And I'll be happy to help you with your story-anytime. Paul."
"Mr. Hanley," she said aloud, "I'm sure there's a name for you. I just haven't been around long enough to learn it."
She got her clothes and went home, not forgetting to take with her the list of Mae's friends that Hanley had written.
CHAPTER TWO
After a lengthy and luxurious bath in her own rented room, Nan looked at the list Hanley had written. There were four names: Art Teffler, Mrs. Maude DiMintri, Steve Edwards, and Mary Lipsher. Hanley had included comments with each name. Teffler he described as a useless wastrel whom Mae once endowed with a sizable nest egg. Because of her backing, Teffler, who was her cousin, was one of New Toronto's biggest landholders. His income is considerable, Hanley's note said, but not all of it comes from real estate... it is not known how he makes most of his money. Hanley wrote his belief that Teffler now was the owner of the mansion Mae Jetty lived in when she was a New Toronto resident. Teffler also was in charge of most of Mae's business and personal papers (Mae took copious notes, Hanley said) and it was supposed that the old mansion, now unoccupied, contained all of these.
Nan decided she would give anything to get into that old house. Everything must be there, and if Mrs. Jetty really took notes on each occurrence of her life, all the gossip about her could be proven.
If Mae was Paul Hanley's protege, Nan thought as she picked up the phone, she must have had a wild sex life. What an expose Nan could write... a den of sin right here in New Toronto. She could show the old lady for what she really was... an expensive prostitute. But was she really? Nan didn't know. And, if she was, what difference would it make? Look at all the good Mrs. Jetty had done. Oh, well, I'll worry about it later, Nan thought, and she dialed Art Teffler's number.
The phone rang several times, and then: "Hello." It was a young woman's voice.
"Hello," said Nan in her most businesslike tone, "is Mr. Teffler in?"
The woman, instead of answering, emitted a shrieking giggle. "Stop it, you idiot. I'm on the phone," her voice said.
There was some scuffling accompanied by more giggling from the woman and something in a man's voice. Nan could hear the phone being put down then picked up again.
"Hello." It was a man this time, a young man with an edge of meanness in his voice and a taunting, snickering chuckle punctuating his greeting.
"Hello, Mr. Teffler?"
"Yeah, baby, this is Art. Watcha want?"
Nan told him who she was, attempting by the professional tone of her voice to wipe the sneer out of his. She asked him for an appointment anyway.
"You wanna talk about Mae?"
"Yes. I need background material for a story to run this Sunday."
"Business or personal?"
"Beg pardon?"
"You gonna write about her business or her personal life."
"Both, I hope. I want all the information I can get."
"Honey, you'll melt yer typewriter... but you sound all right to me. Why don't you come on over?"
"Will tomorrow morning be all right?"
"Morning starts at noon for me, baby. I'll be home 'til about five. Anytime."
Tuesday morning Nan looked up Teffler in the paper's meager files. There wasn't much on him. He was in real estate and, despite his youth, seemed to be the biggest property owner in town. Mae Jetty apparently had signed everything over to him when she left twenty years ago, though he could hardly have been ten years old at the time.
He lived in a new apartment house near the business section of the city. Nan understood the price of living there ran about 300 dollars a month... but not for Art Teffler, he owned it.
The building was four stories high and Teffler lived on the top floor... the whole top floor. He really is rich, thought Nan as she stepped into an elevator outside the building... it went only to the fourth floor. The car rose into an enclosure and when the door opened she was apparently in his apartment. It was a large room, very much like a living room except that it didn't seem to be lived in. Its furnishings were plush, gaudy and impersonal, like a glorified meeting room which, she decided, must be what it was.
A door in the far wall opened and a man, roughly thirty, wearing a screamingly bright orange shirt flared at the neck and tucked into tight-fitting blue velvet pants, stood in the opening beckoning to her. His clothes are in such bad taste that he belongs with the room, she thought, and walked toward him.
"You must be the reporter," he said admiringly. "I thought all reporters were wasted little guys with green eyeshades."
She answered as her eyes took him in at close range. This one was going to be worse than Hanley, she thought. His flared shirt hardly disguised the beginning of a drinker's paunch and his skin-tight pants didn't even try to hide the bulge at his crotch which, at his seeing her, was beginning to grow.
"You are some doll," he said breathily. "C'mon in."
"J-just for a minute," she said and stepped into the room almost tripping over the rug, it was so thick.
Nan wanted out. She had never seen such a hideously lecherous face. Not even Mr. Lopez could match it. His eyes already had her undressed and into position for God only knows what.
"Really... I just need a few items..." She had forgotten about the story she wanted. His meaningful grin, his pudgy face, his greasy-looking mouth, even his prematurely thinning hair-all were obscene. She wanted to run, but the door had closed behind her and he had pressed a button on the wall, causing a permanent sounding click to be heard in the lock.
"You wanna learn about Mae," he leered, "an' nobody nowhere knows about Mae like I do. I know everything: her business contacts, her ways of making money reproduce itself, her personal life... everything. I've even got a couple of her old diaphragms in my bedroom, just for old time's sake."
"I d-don't think..."
"That's right, baby, don't think. You let me do all the thinking. It always works out that way." He paused to leer again. "I can make things easy on you, you know. That guy from the Demeter paper has called me twice for background on Mae. You don't want me to cooperate with the opposition now, do you?"
"No. I j-just c-can't..."
"Yes you can, baby. And you're going to. After all, I'm a businessman. You want something from me... all you gotta do is pay for it."
"I-I'm r-really not authorized to p-pay for news, Mr. Teffler. R-really, I'm not."
"What I want, you can authorize all by yourself, beautiful."
Nan could no longer stand. Her knees were buckling under her. There was a divan nearby and she sat down, breathing heavily. Her fear of this monstrous creature was mortal. She really thought she would faint. It kept her erect just to think what he could do to her if she were in a helpless condition. An image flashed through her mind of this slimy, rich creep ripping the clothes off her senseless body and raping her before she could regain consciousness. She fought off the weakness in her knees and the queasiness in her stomach by holding that image.
"Of course," he suggested, "I could always call Lopez and tell him you were rude and insulting. Then I could give the story to that reporter... whatsisname... Stemfelder from the Demeter Telegram. I own a piece of the Telegram, you know. They'd sure like to squeeze into Lopez' circulation area."
What he said was true, Nan knew. Demeter was only eleven miles from New Toronto and the Telegram had been pressuring the Gazette's news sources for the last two years. It was a cutthroat business and any reporter who lost a major story to the opposition would immediately be out of work. Not only that, but Aaron Stemfelder, the Telegram's top reporter, was one of the worst muckrackers in the business. He loved scandal and probably smelled one in the Mae Jetty story. Mrs. Jetty's name would be destroyed and, possibly, so might all her good works. Nan still wasn't sure that Mae's wild sex life, if, indeed, it had been wild, was important enough to destroy the humanitarian acts the woman had performed all over the world.
Nan, still badly frightened, looked through tears in her eyes at the man before her. The bulge in his pants now extended halfway to his knee and, as he rocked back and forth on his heels and toes he favored her with an evil sneer and slowly rubbed his expanding penis.
"W-What do you w-want?"
"That depends on what you want," he answered smugly. Now he had her, he knew, and the pleasure of conquest raged through him in company with his vile passion. The minute he saw this beautiful cunt his prick started climbing out of his pants. He had watched her park her car and walk to the elevator; bright red hair, a green miniskirt, and a too prim white blouse that had to be stretched across those big, ripe melons. He was gonna get it into her one way or the other. The sight of her hand caused a return of his own singular malady; an itch on the head of his prick. It had cursed him with its agitation for as long as he could remember and only Mae Jetty had figured out how to stop its tingling torment. That had been when he was only nine years old! Old Mae really knew her stuff.
Now he gazed at the diminutive redhead before him, cringing on his couch, her dress so short he could see to within a half inch of her crotch-she had completely forgotten to pull it down when she sat-and the big, full tits heaving with her gasping breath. I really scared the shit out of her, he laughed to himself.
Nan was beside herself. This horrid man was staring at her almost glassily as he rubbed the thing growing down his leg. He was in position now to demand what he wanted of her... and she would have to comply because her living depended upon her ability to get news out of such people. She was beginning to believe that the wealthy were a scabrous bunch.
"A-all I need is some i-information." she pleaded. "Well," he said, "for your information," and unzipped his pants, "here's what it'll cost you." A gigantic cock jumped out at her and dangled menacingly from its base, its blood-filled head jerking several inches up and down with each pulsebeat, its one eye glaring at her through drop after drop of filmy lubricant which would form and then fly off in the violence of his staffs motion. He stood with his hands on his hips and ordered: "On yer knees, you little cunt."
She couldn't believe the size of his cock. It was half again as big as Hanley's. Her mouth went lax as she stared at it but she was repulsed by his order and sat where she was, not moving, her whole body stiffening with revulsion.
"C'mon," he demanded again. "The head of my prick itches something awful. There's only one way to scratch it, and that's with the tongue of a sharp little bitch like you. Mae taught me that when I was nine."
"What?" She couldn't believe that a well known and gracious lady such as Mae Jetty, no matter what her private life had been, would introduce an innocent child to such an ugly practice.
"It's the truth," he said, reading her thoughts. "Now do you like your first lesson on Mae Gail Jetty? C'mon, you little bitch. Suck it!"
"I-I c-can't."
"You want a story?"
"Y-y-yes..."
"Then you waddle over here and suck a few gallons out of this. After yer through, we'll get naked and discuss the newspaper business."
She was on her knees. The sight of his prick had begun to take effect on her senses... like a cobra dancing to the movement of the flutist, her face moved trancelike in an up and down rhythm and it approached the gyrating instrument.
"Hurry, goddamnit! I can't stand the itching."
He was telling the truth. The head of his prick itched as if from inside; it tingled enough to make the muscles of his belly crawl. It would drive him crazy if she didn't hurry. When she was within arm's reach of him, he grabbed her ears and forced her mouth over his throbbing, slimy prick.
"Aaaaaahhhhh! That's it. Oh, that's the way. It's so warm and good."
He had missed his aim at first and his goo-covered glans had jabbed her first in the nose and then in the right jowl, leaving its glistening prints.
She had tried to screech when his rough fingers dug into the backs of her ears, but her suddenly filled mouth only passed a gurgling noise. Half of his huge prick was in her tiny speaking cavity. At first she was stunned, then afraid she would strangle, but after a few seconds she was ready for instructions-she just didn't know what to do with it. The first taste she got from it was her own face powder, then the bittersweet taste of his lubricant, and then another taste she couldn't identify though it seemed somehow familiar. Suddenly she recognized it:.. it was bath oil, the same kind she used.
Her lips clamped down on the soft outer flesh of his staff feeling the hard ridges underneath as her tongue lay idly against the massive head.
"You've got to lick it," he said through clenched teeth.
"Murgle," she assented and began to work her saliva-coated oral member around the rubbery boulder in her mouth. She rubbed it on the split lower edge with the rough part of her tongue, purposely pressing as hard as possible in the hope that it would hurt and make him want to stop.
"Aaaaaiiieeee! That's great. That's really great!" he screamed, his body writhing before her, his fingernails digging into her ears.
"Ongle bungle," she complained. She tried to shake her head free of his grip but the motion her action created on the throbbing glans in her mouth sent him into new ecstasy.
"Oh, my God, you're good. You're a natural, baby. All you need is a little more to work on," he shouted maliciously. And saying that, he flattened his hands on the back of her head and, clenching his buttocks, crammed his pulsating prick all the way home.
"Nnnggglllnnnnngglllllnnnggglll!" She tried to scream but her throat was stopped by his giant rubbery, throbbing hunger. She couldn't even breath through her nose. She was sure this was the end... she would strangle to death, her face impaled on the salty prick of this grotesque excuse for a human being. Just when she thought she would faint, he pulled it out to its halfway depth again.
"Phnfnfnfnfnfn," she sighed through her nose, able to breath again, but only just.
"Now you've got to suck it," he ordered from what seemed like a long distance.
She sucked. Holding the exposed part of his staff in one little hand and working the other into his pants to cup his tightening scrotum, she pulled with all her might at his prick. She had already discovered that this practice wasn't nearly so bad as she thought it was going to be. The only thing really wrong with it was that it didn't begin to satisfy her. Her poor cunt was hot and flowing with the juices of passion and she knew her bikini pants were sopping. She wanted to take them off but he wouldn't let go of her ears and she couldn't bring herself to release her grip on his passion-dancing prick or to drop his soft spongy balls in their velvety, hair-covered bag.
She could feel her vaginal muscles pulsating just as they had at Hanley's the day before. They would take her over someday, she feared, she would lose control of them entirely. She sucked her hardest and began twisting her head right and left providing the prick with a screwing motion that sent quivers of pleasure through its owner.
"Oh, Christ! Oh, shit! Oh, sweet Jesus Chriiist! It's so fucking good I can't believe it!" he hissed.
Nan was on her knees, pressing her thighs together to keep her cum and her fluids from running down her legs. It was no use. She could feel the clinging wetness oozing out of her underpants and sliding in long rivulets down her legs. She sawed her tongue over his now expanding bulb, keeping the rough top of it in contact with his sensitive rubbery tissue. He squirmed and wiggled, letting out little screams and moans as she worked on him. It wasn't enough for her, she wanted to drive him mad. She moved her hands to the snaps of his pants and pulled them apart. She peeled him like a banana.
He felt the cold rush of air on his balls, on his ass, and on his legs and when he looked down he was standing as if in a puddle formed by his trousers. The sight of her undressing him was all he could stand. Fireworks exploded inside him. He felt her hand cupped under his balls again and his throat filled with the slaver of a ravening beast.
She gripped his staff and cupped his scrotum again, sucking with everything she had. Her breasts, captive in her bra, strained to escape as they grew thick and painfully hard. Her cunt was awash with juices, her whole insides felt like hot whipped cream... and it squeezed through her vulval lips into the waterlogged double-thick panty crotch, flooding to and from like a hungry ocean, dampening her puckered anus and dripping down her legs like melting ice.
"I'm cuuummmmmmming!" he shouted. "Iiiimmmmmhcummminnnggg!"
He was strangling her. Hot cream shot in repeated spurts... gallons at a time, it seemed, as the head of his prick sped past her tonsils, trying to reach into her very stomach. She gagged, but he wouldn't stop. He thrust again and again, spewing a few more quarts each time. She couldn't swallow it all; it washed back in a great white tide up the shaft and out her mouth. Finally, his passion's release caused him to relax and she pulled her head off the offending shaft. So tight did it fit into her tiny mouth, that a sucking noise followed by a loud, wet pop, marked its flight.
She fell back gurgling with pain, her throat invaded with great draughts of his cum. He was on her immediately.
"Drink it all!" he ordered. "There's some on your chin. Don't let it get away."
Gasping for breath, she swallowed all she could with each gulp. With her index finger she coaxed slimy globules of his cum up from her chin into her mouth. His cum tasted like sweetened waffle batter.
"Swallow it all, you sweet little bitch. Here's some in my crotch hair. Lick it out. Clean me up."
"Waighghgh," she pleaded, gurglingly trying to say what.
"C'mon. Lick me clean. My prick is gooey with the stuff."
Finally she had her breath and had swallowed all that was in her throat. She got up on her knees again, her belly and vaginal regions in a boiling, churning turmoil. Her cunt ached for attention and her panties were heavy with her molten fluids.
Like a dutiful dog, she lapped at his still erect penis. Then she nuzzled into the great bush at its base. It was sticky with his cum and she worked her tongue into the hairs, sucking the good white dollops into her mouth, his wet hair tickling her nose until she was finished. As she did this, she reached down and slid her pants to her knees, then stood up and stepped out of them. Her nylons were crusted with her drying juices and she pulled them off, kicking her shoes away.
"That's right," he said, removing his shirt, "take it off... take it all off."
She pulled her dress off, dropped it then reached back for her bra snaps. She was panting, she knew, and her cunt was roaring. Her fear of him now had been about equalized by the mounting flow of hot desire coursing through her despite anything she could do. She had actually enjoyed some of the last few minutes... with his thing in her mouth. It was ugly to think of but she had lived a little when she was sucking it. If only it was some man of her own choice it would be much better.
His prick was dancing again, tossing shiny strings of lubricant up, down and all around. The purple head was shining with it again and droplets formed and reformed as they were shrugged away.
Saying nothing, he grabbed her and half led, half dragged her down a long hallway to where a door stood open. His bedroom was gigantic and just as gaudily furnished as the rest of the place. A huge round bed sat in the middle of the room. He pushed her onto it and followed right behind her. She sensed his urgency and could appreciate it because of the aching within her womb, but she resented his rough handling.
Pushing her down on her back, he brought his face down on her cunt. She spread her legs and her stomach muscles fluttered as his tongue bored into her vaginal passage. Her womb reacted to his tongue's entry by contracting painfully. She cried out as his lips played with the puckered flesh at her entrance, parting her red cunt hair to nibble fervently at her already moistened ruby lips. He forced her thighs apart, digging his rutting fingers into their soft, sensitive flesh. He was grunting like an animal and hardly knew what he was doing. He forced his face into her widening cunt and dug at her with his nose and she felt the stubble of his beard scratching her cunt lips.
He released her thighs and she spread them widely again for him as he lowered himself over her in fucking position. She had to have it. She didn't know how she could hate and fear a man and still have to have him in her, but her raging insides seemed to be a yawning cavern that had to be filled, had to have something to close upon.
Teffler eased his thick cock along the short space encompassing her pink-lipped target, then wedged it in. It wouldn't go in easily because of her tightness and the tenderness left from yesterday's assault. He maintained a steady pressure, and soon her juices eased him in. She was surprised to feel no pain despite the size of him. Her cuntal walls opened to receive him then clamped down to hold him in.
Nan breathed deeply as the big piledriver swelled in her inexperienced cunt. Teffler stroked her unsurely, slowly at first, then faster and harder. The stout shaft pronged her cunt-chute, cosseting her smooth interior walls. The resilient head plunged at her yielding cervix as Nan's breathing hoarsened. She intuitively wrapped her legs tightly around his back and closed her eyes, hating him but loving every millimeter of his penetration into her tight, grasping core.
Now her hips began a motion of their own in reaction to his thrusts. His huge rod pumped furiously into her upthrust sucking pussy. Little mewling cries came from her as his flesh-ridged prong stabbed into her slavering cunt. Her hips swayed and humped, squirmed and wriggled, fell back and pushed up to meet him; her vaginal muscles operating entirely on their own, grabbed at his driving rod and sometimes he even felt a suction.
Her cunt is even tighter than her mouth, he thought, hearing slurping sounds slush in sibilance as he fucked his prick against her clitoris, which made her squeal, then against her cervix, which brought deep, throaty moans from her.
Nan was amazed that the prick, now sliding with such ease in and out of her smooth and oily passage, caused her no pain or discomfort. She had no control over the vaginal muscles, but could feel them reacting as they themselves deemed best. The sensation of their movement sent electric thrills throughout her system. Jets of passion shot through her, firing themselves far out from their source in her battered vagina all the way to the top of her head, the bottoms of her uplifted feet, and to her fingertips which were presently digging their nails in broad scraping arcs across her attacker's back. Cold, dry electric shocks jolted her, only to turn into warm floods of creamy lavalike streams of sexual yearning... fulfillment would be hers if it continued like this for much longer.
His penis jerked spastically, then, as he thrust his ass forward, driving his prick home for the last shot, she felt his balls against her asshole tighten in preparation.
"No," she said, "not yet."
"Fuck you, baby!" hissed Teffler. "I'm coming."
His huge cock seemed suddenly to expand forcing a cry of despair from her as the big tool gushed, shrank back slightly, expanded and gushed again. She ground her hips against his crotch to get more of his prick into her, but it was no use.
"Aaaaaahhhhhh!" he sighed as he flowed. The shrinking of his prick informed her that it was over... over before she had really had her chance. It wasn't fair, she wanted to scream, and her vaginal muscles agreed as they clamped down on his diminishing, slippery member.
"Don't look so disappointed," he told her. He withdrew his prick with the same wet popping sound it had made when it left her mouth.
"I didn't finish," she said petulantly. "You could have..."
Leaning over her, he slapped her face hard.
"Shuddap, you stupid bitch," he ordered. "You didn't even want to start."
He looked down at her sprawled out on his bed. She had relaxed after the slap but her arms and legs were still spread wide. Her body shown with sweat, her sex juices glistened on her cuntlips and he could see the trail it left running down between the cheeks of her ass. Her red pussy hair, that perfect delta, was matted with both their juices and whole dollops of his white cum was hardening there as it dried.
"Wait here a minute," he said. "Don't move."
He left and she, suspecting something even worse to come, ran to the living room, grabbed her clothes, hurriedly put them on, and moved to the door before he could return.
She pressed the button in the wall hoping against hope that it would unlock the door as it had locked it. Another loud click justified that hope and, hearing him coming toward the room from somewhere, she pushed the door open.
"You dirty bitch!" he screamed like a child who couldn't get his own way. "Come back here."
As she left, she glanced at him. He held a camera and just before she escaped into the elevator he shot her picture.
Rotten bitch got away, he thought bitterly. But she'll be back. If she wants information on old Mae, she'll be back. And when she comes, I'll be ready. I'll get a couple of the boys over here... they're gonna love working the leather on her sweet ass... far out from their source in her battered vagina all the way to the top of her head, the bottoms of her uplifted feet, and to her fingertips which were presently digging their nails in broad scraping arcs across her attacker's back. Cold, dry electric shocks jolted her, only to turn into warm floods of creamy lavalike streams of sexual yearning... fulfillment would be hers if it continued like this for much longer.
His penis jerked spastically, then, as he thrust his ass forward, driving his prick home for the last shot, she felt his balls against her asshole tighten in preparation.
"No," she said, "not yet."
"Puck you, baby!" hissed Teffler. "I'm coming.
His huge cock seemed suddenly to expand forcing a cry of despair from her as the big tool gushed, shrank back slightly, expanded and gushed again. She ground her hips against his crotch to get more of his prick into her, but it was no use.
"Aaaaaahhhhhh!" he sighed as he flowed. The shrinking of his prick informed her that it was over... over before she had really had her chance. It wasn't fair, she wanted to scream, and her vaginal muscles agreed as they clamped down on his diminishing, slippery member.
"Don't look so disappointed," he told her. He withdrew his prick with the same wet popping sound it had made when it left her mouth.
"I didn't finish," she said petulantly. "You could have..."
Leaning over her, he slapped her face hard. "Shuddap, you stupid bitch," he ordered. "You didn't even want to start."
He looked down at her sprawled out on his bed. She had relaxed after the slap but her arms and legs were still spread wide. Her body shown with sweat, her sex juices glistened on her cuntlips and he could see the trail it left running down between the cheeks of her ass. Her red pussy hair, that perfect delta, was matted with both their juices and whole dollops of his white cum was hardening there as it dried. "Wait here a minute," he said. "Don't move." He left and she, suspecting something even worse to come, ran to the living room, grabbed her clothes, hurriedly put them on, and moved to the door before he could return.
She pressed the button in the wall hoping against hope that it would unlock the door as it had locked it. Another loud click justified that hope and, hearing him coming toward the room from somewhere, she pushed the door open.
"You dirty bitch!" he screamed like a child who couldn't get his own way. "Come back here."
As she left, she glanced at him. He held a camera and just before she escaped into the elevator he shot her picture.
Rotten bitch got away, he thought bitterly, But she'll be back. If she wants information on old Mae, she'll be back. And when she comes, I'll be ready. I'll get a couple of the boys over here... they're gonna love working the leather on her sweet ass...
CHAPTER THREE
Wednesday morning dawned clear and sunny. Nan was prepared to start out once more on her quest to unravel the early life of Mrs. Jetty. Despite her first two interviews which had resulted in Nan's initiation into the world of sex, she was determined to complete her assignment with dispatch.
The next name on her list was old Mrs. DiMintri. There was even less information in the files on her than there was on her rich daughter. Nan knew Mrs. DiMintri was an invalid and had been in almost total seclusion for the past ten years.
The DiMintri mansion, built by Mae Gail Jetty, some years ago, was in the snob section of town called "Northside." The old lady was close to ninety years old and bedridden. As Nan drove up the winding driveway to the pillared facade she was awed by the magnificence of the grounds and structure. It looked like a palace. She lifted her chin as she strode to the door and tapped resolutely with a large brass knocker in the shape of a gargoyle. It looked ugly to her, but she guessed it was probably a very expensive bit of decor.
After a moment the door was opened by a young man. Nan had not known who would answer, but she thought it would probably be a somber-faced butler in morning clothes or a maid in very prim and proper attire. Not so: the young fellow who stood before her wore a wide grin and a bath towel, nothing more.
Nan, now sure she must have entered a completely different world since she began backtracking the rich Mrs. Jetty, informed the curly-haired man she was the reporter who had called earlier about an interview with Mrs. DiMintri.
"I'm Steve Edwards, Mrs. DiMintri's manager. Won't you come in, Miss Flanders?" He made a rather elaborate sweep of his hand indicating she was welcome.
Nan tried to ignore the almost nude Edwards and stepped into a wide and elegantly appointed entrance hall. A winding staircase at the far end led to a second floor and to the left and right were a number of doors, all closed. Nan glanced back as Edwards closed the door and she noticed his unabashed appraisal of her figure. She blushed, despite her best intentions, and managed to control her nervousness as he took her arm and led her to a pair of high white doors which were suddenly thrown open, almost in her face.
Three people were there to greet her, all wrapped in towels and obviously naked otherwise. There was another young man and two girls, only slightly older than Nan. They stepped aside as Nan edged into the room and Edwards closed the door behind her. "Miss Flanders wants to see the old lady. She's from the local paper and wants to do a story on the life of her nibs, old Mae herself."
The two girls, wearing towels toga-style, glanced at each other and then burst into laughter. The two men joined in and Nan stood rooted to the spot, uncertain as to just what to do next. She had expected anything but laughter. What was so funny? When they ended their brief merriment, Edwards introduced them as Ed, the old lady's chauffeur, Lilly, the maid and very blonde, and Sasha, a tall dark-haired beauty who was the old lady's nurse.
Nan's quick survey of the room had noted the many glasses and bottles of liquor. It was evident that she had interrupted a very wild party. She wondered if the old lady knew what was going on in her own house. Nan thought not, since the woman was bedridden.
Nan asked Sasha, "Do you think I might be able to interview Mrs. DiMintri for just a few minutes?"
Sasha looked at her companions, put her hands on her hips, ogled Nan's miniskirted torso and replied, "It could be arranged, but nobody talks to the old girl unless I say so and I don't say so unless I get something in return."
Nan had heard a similar line from Teffler and she hadn't liked the price. She warily eyed the half-clothed quartet and inquired as to just what that something might be. Sasha smiled and brushed Nan's cheek fondly. "The party was getting dull. A little new life in it might make the whole day. Are you game?"
Nan thought that it couldn't hurt to have a drink or two and have her spirits revived after the past two days of utter degradation into which she had been forced. "All right, but only for a little while. I have to get the interview and talk to other people today so I won't be able to stay very long."
Edwards promptly mixed her a screwdriver after Nan had informed him of her preference and Lilly put a record on a huge stereo console which seemed to take up one whole side of the gigantic room. There were several couches and innumerable overstuffed chairs scattered around the room which was carpeted in a shag rug so thick it seemed to come up to Nan's ankles as she examined a few of the many pieces of art adorning the walls.
When Nan turned to face her four hosts, she almost flipped her wig. All of them had doffed their towels and were sitting on a long white velvet couch completely at ease. Nan turned away and said, "I think I'd better go. I'm not much for this kind of a party."
She never reached the door. Steve and Ed blocked her way, their hairy bodies now exposed to her eyes. She tried not to notice their cocks which hung limp and yet threatening between their legs. Even soft, she thought, they both had big pricks and she was in no mood to enter into any sort of sexual hanky-panky with the foursome.
Steve put his hands on her shoulders and said, "Now it wouldn't be nice for you to refuse our hospitality if you really want to talk to the old lady. There's nothing for nothing in this world and, besides, we only want to have a little fun. Have another drink, take 'em off and join in. We'll ball it up and later you can talk to the old girl all you want."
This was too much for Nan. She was unsure about everything. Nothing was going the way it should. But she had to get a story and so far she hadn't learned a heck of a lot. She wondered just how much these swingers expected of her in the way of cooperation. Nan realized she didn't have a hell of a lot to lose now that she was no longer a virgin.
Her professional drive outweighed her reservations and without actually welcoming the advance she let herself be led over to the velvet couch. She stood there tense and expectant as Steve's hands moved slowly down her sides from behind her. His serpentine caress moved over her hips and then away.
Ed knelt on the couch in front of her as the two girls stood back to watch. Lilly had the biggest set of tits Nan had ever seen and Sasha sported a growth of pubic hair which made the Black Forest look like two twigs in a sandpile.
Ed shook his limp cock at her and then unemotionally began to unbutton the shortsleeved blouse she was wearing. Nan took the drink offered to her by one of the girls and almost gulped it down in one swallow as her blouse was taken off and she felt her bra being unhooked. Steve's nimble hands removed the bra and threw it to the floor in one motion. Her proud tits sprang up to attention and Ed's hands began a nontherapeutic massage.
Nan was almost at the point of pushing him away and rushing from the house, her mind reeling in heat and confusion, when Steve raised her skirt over her ass and with almost the same motion pulled her pantyhose down to her ankles. Cold air washed her moist pussy lips. She tried to spin around but was firmly halted by the grip of Ed's hands gripping her tits and Steve's iron clasp on her rounded hips.
She pushed at Steve's hands, to no avail, and then turned her attention to Ed who was now nuzzling her nipples. His mouth devoured the nipple of her right tit and a shiver of anticipation coursed down Nan's back. Her efforts to push Ed's head away from her rapidly hardening nipples was abbreviated by the knowledge that something hard and warm was parting the tender half moons of her plump ass. With a shock she realized it was Steve's hardening cock! She moaned and the denial she was about to voice was never uttered for the head of his cock touched her asshole and she forgot everything.
Then Steve's hands slid over her hips and the fingers of his left hand explored the area of her tender pussy, still quite sore from the not too gentle ministrations of Art Teffler.
Ed's manipulations on her tits now were driving her past the point of no return. Her nipples stood out hard and erect like cherries on two large dips of vanilla ice cream. Her fingers wound themselves into Ed's hair and her sighs of pleasure attested to her approaching surrender to the delights of the moment.
Lilly and Sasha, unable to contain themselves any longer, pulled Ed from the couch. Despite his halfhearted resistance, the girls pushed him to the floor. Nan's eyes were riveted on his blood-filled erection which stood out hard and menacing. It was gigantic.
No sooner did the girls have Ed on the floor than his manly muscle was encased in a sheath of quivering quim as Lilly plopped herself down on it without as much as a "May I?" His purple protuberance entered into her nest of Venus as her moist vaginal orifice stretched wide to receive its guest.
Sasha kneeled over his face and slowly lowered her ass until her cunt hair tickled his lips. Ed laughed and said, "Now who would have ever thought that looking at an asshole could be so enjoyable?" Sasha laughed too and with only a slight movement pushed her cunt down onto his mouth. Nan watched his tongue snake out and lick her pink portals.
Lilly was riding Ed's cock and moving her ass in a slow circular motion. Ed's cock was buried in her pretty pussy and Nan could see only the hair around his cock meshed with the dark blonde hair of Lilly's valley. Lilly reached out and began pinching the nipples of Sasha's well-formed breasts and just as quickly Sasha returned the favor.
The two girls kneaded each other's tits until the passion of their action warmed, then Sasha leaned forward to tongue the hard brown nipples of the maid. Lilly continued to caress the tits of the nurse who was now nursing herself on Lilly's tits.
Ed was just beginning to get into the swing of things and was laving the dripping pussy of Sasha as she squatted over his head. The soft lips of her palpitating cunt seemed to be pulling his tongue ever deeper into her moist channel. Ed licked, sucked, and teased the delicious morsel lingering in this opening scene to heighten the pleasure and the passion of the girl. Sasha squirmed and gently pushed her pussy down to his mouth, wanting him to probe the depths of her love box.
Lilly was now warming to her task, seated on the giant joy stick of the supine chauffeur. She worked the lips of her cunt around the hard length of his cock, milking it like the hand of a lady goat herder. The muscles of her vagina tightened and relaxed in alternating pulses like the ebb and flow of an ocean tide. Ed could feel her cunt sucking at his cock like it was a vacuum cleaner and he willed himself not to become too quickly enraptured.
Sasha, unable to control the delights which flooded her body and engulfed her brain, pushed her cunt down even harder into Ed's mouth. He pushed up, a hand under each generous cheek of her ass, and, gasping for air, said, "I like the job, baby, but I acquired a bad habit at an early age. Breathing!" and with that he began to lick her asshole.
She squealed with delight as his tongue circled the rubbery ring and involuntarily her sphincter tightened and, abruptly, she farted.
Ed came up sputtering and gasping. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked as he held her ass and gulped in fresh air. "If you're going to cum out your ass, don't do it that way."
His blandishments didn't phase Sasha who only tried to push her cunt down to his mouth once more. Ed, not really too ruffled by the unexpected blast of fetid air, grasped the thighs and tongued the tight narrow separation between her dripping cunt and her rectal ring. Sasha responded predictably with a sigh and in a quavering voice whispered, "Now, Ed, now. Suck it. Suck it. Do it right."
Despite or because of his pussy-strapped position, Ed had to grin. He pushed his tongue into the soft folds of her ever-widening vagina and teased her clitoris until she was rotating her hips on his face as Lilly was on his cock. Ed felt he was now approaching a climax and nibbled at Sasha's protruding love bump. It grew slightly longer and harder under his persuasive tongue and he sucked it into his mouth. She pushed down until her cunt widened and spread over his mouth, almost suffocating him as his nose was entrapped between the cheeks of her ass. He moved to gasp for air and sucked hard at her cunt as his tongue probed deeply into her vagina. She was moaning and whispering sweet endearments to him as though there was no one in the world except the two of them. And all the time she was spasmodically massaging the breasts of Lilly who had now taken Sasha's former role and was returning the favor as she sucked hard on the nipple of one breast and then the other of the insatiable Sasha.
Lilly strove to impale herself even further on the giant phallic digit of the now writhing chauffeur. Her cunt was as an immense gorge which no amount of cock could fill. She plunged her ass up and down on his tool until just the blood-swollen head of it was within her gushing twat and then in a downward stroke she eagerly sought to feel a glorious reentering of her vagina.
Ed, his face almost completely within the spread of Sasha's distended cunt, was sucking her to completion. Her ass moved uncontrollably as her climax erupted in a flood that almost drowned Ed. She cried out in passion as he sucked, licked and swallowed, trying to contain the copious flow of nectar spurting from deep within her vagina.
"Ohhhhhhhh, Ed. Don't stop. Suck me. Suck me. Do it, lover. Ohhhhh, suck me dry." Sasha screamed with pagan abandon. Her pleasure was unbounded and Ed complied as best he could, although her grinding ass had almost completely cut off his ability to breathe.
Then he felt his balls tighten and the tingle within grew to exquisite nerve-shattering sensations as his cock spewed forth a seemingly endless gush of hot, sticky cum. Lilly pumped herself up and down frantically, nearing her own climax and relishing the steaming hot emissions spurting into her cannibal cunt.
With one last downward thrust, she wiggled her ass down on his thighs and, with his exploding pole buried in her, she released the flood of love juice from within her ovaries. Ed wanted to climb the walls as he experienced the indescribable spine-tingling sensation of her hot load pouring over the head of his still spitting cock.
He strained upward with his hips, trying to lodge even more of his pulsing pecker within her oscillating vagina. He wanted to push his balls into her... his whole body... he wanted to enter into her completely, back to whence he came. His mouthing of Sasha's cuntal passage drove her to even further heights of desire. Before he could even catch his breath she came again, and once more the flow threatened to engulf him. The sweet nectar of her juice filled his mouth and ran over his chin and face. It was impossible for him to swallow it all.
Sasha was trembling and mouthing obscenities, lost to her surroundings and knowing nothing except the fever of the flesh as her cunt became the center of her universe. Ed finally had to push her off. She tumbled to one side and lay on the floor, moaning and rubbing her hips as she descended from the outer space of passion.
Ed's cock was now growing soft in Lilly's swollen cunt. She leaned over him, her tits rubbing his chest and said, "Welcome back to the world. How was the trip?"
Ed grinned, "Not bad for openers. When do we get down to some real loving?"
"You'll be sorry you said that, big boy," Lilly retorted as she flexed the walls of her vagina and milked his cock of its last drop of cum.
As she raised herself, Ed's almost limp cock slid from her cunt with a wet ker-r-r-plop.
Lilly sat on the floor next to him and her eyes turned to Nan and Steve. "Will you check out the inquiring reporter? She's entering right into the spirit of the party." Ed and Sasha both took in the scene at the same time.
Nan was bent over the back of the couch. Her soft-voiced protestations were lost on the single-minded purpose of the long-pronged Steve. He had a firm grasp of her hips and was pronging the tight anal orifice between the cheeks of a most delectable ass.
Nan felt the tip of his cock push itself up to her asshole and she wondered if he thought he could get that big thing into her that way. She felt a terror she had never known before. He would kill her if he stuck that instrument of flesh and gristle into her ass. She had noticed the girth of it before it had grown hard and her two previous experiences told her that it was probably twice that size by now.
Then she felt it move to the chafed and tender lips of her battered box and she thought he had only made a mistake when he had pushed it against her anal entrance. Her fear was not reduced by this thought. She was sure she could not possibly take even the tip of his prolific pole into her tiny twat. All the inhibitions she had known up until two days ago seemed far away and unimportant, but still she feared what was taking place.
And there was something else she sensed, but was afraid to admit; she knew there was a part of her which was crying out for fulfillment. She wanted to know all there was to know about life, but not like this. She wanted it to be different. The puritanical ancestors reared their heads and shook a finger in her face. Her initial protests and struggles had now subsided to weak pleading and halfhearted resistance. She needed the story and would do anything she had to do in order to learn the facts.
"Relax, honey. Old Steve's crack-crammer needs a bit of exercise and you've got the most delicious keister I've seen in a long time," Steve said as he tightened his hold on her hips.
Sasha laughed, "That Steve is an honest to God cheek-freak. There's nothing that cowboy likes better. You might as well relax and enjoy it, Nan. He'll never let you go now."
Nan felt her face redden at this crude outburst and she buried her face in the couch, holding onto the cushion which she had pulled up over her head.
Nan cringed as once more the moist tip of Steve's cock nudged her asshole. Then she almost screamed as he pushed harder and her tight little rectum stretched tautly to receive the searching head of his rigid glory rod. She sobbed and wanted to beg him to stop, but she couldn't bring herself to raise her head from behind the cushion. She could hear the remarks of the three spectators and quailed at the thought that she would have to face them when this was over.
The rubbery ring of her rectum stretched wider and the swollen head of his rod slipped into her taut passage. She bit her lip to hold back the scream of pain which welled in the throat. Her eyes flooded with tears and she held the cushion even more tightly over her face. Never before had she experienced such pain! It-was like a molten pipe being rammed even further up her soft, tender ass.
Sasha, Lilly, and Ed were moving around to survey the action from every angle. They commented on the length of Steve's cock and the ability of Nan's rectal passage to take all that meat. By this time Ed's cock was long and hard again. He pulled Sasha over to another couch and after he lay down he said, "Now it's your turn, Sash baby." She smiled, then dropped to her knees beside the couch.
Ed propped himself up on his elbows and watched as she grasped his turgid pussy-plug and began to massage it knowingly. Her face was only inches away, the smile pulling the corners of her brightly painted mouth.
Lilly, her own desire rising at a rapid rate, dropped down beside Sasha and proceeded to caress her opulent tits. Sasha purred like a well-fed kitten and moved her face closer to the rampant tool of flesh in her hand. Ed lay back, his eyes closed, as the rising passion flooded his tingling body. He curled his fingers in her hair and she responded by kissing the blood-reddened head of his cock. His whole body jerked spasmodically in an almost uncontrollable ecstasy. Then her lips opened and enveloped the tip of his cunt-corker.
Lilly, unable to restrain the latent impulses now storming in her mind, slithered under Sasha's ass. Sasha raised herself on her knees just enough to let Lilly move her head under her crotch, then she sat down with her crotch pressed tightly to the upturned face of the frantic maid.
Lilly grasped the flaring hips of the sultry secretary and pushed her mouth to the soft vaginal lips of the aroused Sasha. Sasha eagerly moved her mouth down on Ed's pulsing prick. Her tongue laved the length of it as she slowly moved her mouth down until she totally engulfed it. Ed moaned and strained upward trying to push his cock even further into her mouth. She held her lips over it, the hair of his balls brushing her chin, and sucked slowly.
Her lips moved expertly like the caress of a hungry vampire. Her cheeks depressed as the suction she employed so diligently carried her to new excesses. His cock seemed to deflate and expand with each exertion of her lips. Then she concentrated her talents on just the head of his huge pussy-plunger.
Lilly, meanwhile, was probing the now dripping cunt of the passion-wracked Sasha. The hungry mouth of the maid pushed up into the walls of Sasha's wide-open cunt. Her tongue licked the inner walls of distended flesh and she sucked at the hardened clitoris. Sasha writhed like a cobra entranced by the music of a flute. The fire in her loins consumed her, carrying her to heretofore unknown heights of ecstasy.
All the stars, the universe, and all the pleasures ever known on earth seemed to be concentrated in the nerve-tingling wetness of Lilly's tongue. Sasha ground her ass down into Lilly's face and, although Lilly could hardly breathe, she continued to suck at the brunette's gushing cunt. The nurse's juices were pouring down into Lilly's upturned face. Much of the hot love juice escaped her mouth despite her best efforts to gulp it down. Her hungry mouth had a mind of its own as Sasha's musky emissions poured in an unending stream over her lips, chin, nose, and neck.
Sasha, her climax ripping her body like lightning streaking through a dark storm, drove her on and on, her mouth sucking Ed until he too reached a crashing, bowel-splitting climax. He cried out as a crescendo of pleasure coursed through his sweating, heaving body. Sasha's mouth sucked ravenously at the head of his exploding prick. Sucking like she had never done before, her whole desire was to consume the snorting, spurting monster, and she put forth an inspired effort to swallow every drop of his hot joy-juice.
Pinwheels whirled in Ed's brain. He was on the precipice looking out into eternity. The total animal passion which controlled him seemed to have no end. He held Sasha's head down and she continued to suck as his balls emptied their hot, pungent juices into her voracious mouth. Unable to contain the torrent of sticky liquid, she let it dribble down her chin and over his balls.
Lilly was still striving to get her face further into Sasha's wide-open cunt. Her nose and mouth were buried within the walls of quivering flesh. Sasha was coming again and again as Lilly's actions continued unabated. Lilly had forgotten everything, driven to the point of no return; lost to her surroundings and all else except the all-pervading hunger to suck Sasha's lovely pussy.
As Ed's cock gradually softened in Sasha's still eager mouth, she held just the swollen head of it between her lips and sucked the last drop of hot jism from his empty balls.
When at last his cock was limp in her mouth, she just lay bent over him, grinding her hips mechanically as Lilly nibbled her clitoris. Ed was beyond all caring. He felt completely drained and at the moment didn't even know Sasha still had his cock in her mouth.
Lilly was now finger-fucking herself as she sucked Sasha's quivering quim. She had two fingers in her cunt and was trying for three as she gobbled and sucked at Sasha's slippery snatch. Lilly wondered why she had suddenly wanted to eat pussy. She had never done it before, but it seemed like the natural thing to do as she sucked and swallowed the never-ending stream of thick, creamy essence of squat drops flowing from Sasha's steaming twat.
Lilly squirmed and twisted her voluptuous hips as her climax approached ever nearer. Sasha was finally becoming calm, unable to reach the peak of desire she had ascended again and again during the past few minutes. She sat on Lilly's face, a dead weight. Lilly kept her face buried in Sasha's crotch as she fingered her clitoris more rapidly. Her climax came suddenly and gushed out over her fingers and down the crack of her creamy white ass. She tickled her clitoris still more and massaged the small protuberance, bringing her to yet another climax.
Gradually, her desire slacked and she pulled herself from under Sasha's buttocks. Sasha let Ed's cock slip from her mouth and slumped to the floor, utterly spent. Lilly lay next to her exhausted and Ed was almost asleep, the euphoria of the moment enshrouding his tired body.
Nan was now being fucked most earnestly by Steve who had every inch of his cock up her stretched fanny. Nan, in her desire to escape this harsh impalement, had dropped the cushion and had witnessed the scene between Lilly, Sasha, and Ed. She could hardly believe her eyes, but watching them had almost made her forget what was happening to her own backside.
When she did come back to what was being done to her, she discovered that it wasn't too bad. Most of the pain had gone and was being replaced by the first faint tremors of desire. Steve was a past master at deflowering maidens of their rectal virginity and was now displaying every vestige of his noble art.
He fucked her asshole in long, slow, easy strokes. Each stroke accompanied by a short respite on the outward motion, with just the head of his cock within her rectum. This was to give Nan's raw rectum a moment to contract before he slowly made the inward journey. Nan grunted at each inward stroke and held onto the back of the divan for support.
By this time she knew it was useless to resist. All innocence had fled, leaving her with only one thing in mind... get the story on Mae Gail Jetty. When her dress came all the way over her head, she wondered what he was up to now. She didn't have long to wonder. She felt his hands move around her and the next moment her breasts were captured within his grasp.
Now he kneaded, squeezed, and massaged her tits as his attack on Tier asshole gained momentum. The fog of indescribable pain was now blending with a strong desire for fulfillment. A shudder trickled through her body and she trembled as his cock plunged once more into the depths of her bowels. She thought surely his cock must be peeking into her stomach. It felt as though her whole insides were filled with his monstrous cock. Her rectum tightened around its length and girth like a rubber glove.
Her nipples began to harden and no longer was she concerned with the raw pain of her violated asshole. Her mind had now turned to the satisfaction of her own needs. The tingling of her crotch and the thoughts running through her mind brought her to complete cooperation with Steve. Her hips began to move and her ass responded to his strokes.
Steve smiled and said, "That's it, baby. I knew you'd like it as soon as you got used to the idea. I never met a broad yet that didn't like it up the old shit-chute."
Nan cringed at the coarseness of his words, but was beyond caring as long as he continued to fuck her. His motions were now much faster and Nan grunted and heaved her ass like a bucking horse at a rodeo. Steve let go of her tits and held her hips as he drove his cock faster and deeper into her tight ass.
Faster and faster he drove until he gasped, "I'm cumming, honey. Pucker up. Thar she blows."
Nan felt his cock explode deep within her. His hot orgasm flowed into her bowels and seemed to fill her intestines like a super enema. His cock pulsed and seemed to have a life-of its own as it bucked and spurted within her. Her own passion had now reached a high pitch. The added impetus of his climax caused her to writhe and moan with desire. At last his cock grew quiet within her and she felt it begin to grow soft. She wanted to tell him to keep going so she could realize her own desires, but she knew he couldn't and she would never ask any man such a thing. It was unthinkable.
By the time he pulled his flaccid rod from her distended rectum, she was beyond all caring. She had to find fulfillment. Steve slapped her on the ass and fell over the back of the couch, completely sated. He had no use for her at the moment and she looked at the worn-out quartet and was almost angry with them for having gotten her to such a high emotional pitch, only to let her down without any effort to satisfy her needs. What a dirty trick.
She pulled her dress in place and sat down on the couch beside Steve. Then she cradled his head in her lap. Steve, knowing she had not reached a climax and not being a real cad, lifted her dress up and pushed his face into her crotch. She knew what he would do and she had to have it. She spread her thighs and Steve kissed the moist lips of her tender pussy.
The delight this brought to her was indescribable. She wanted him to eat her alive. To put his entire head into her cunt and never stop sucking her. Steve nibbled at the lips of her vagina and gingerly poked his tongue into her cunt.
She spread her thighs even further apart and rubbed the back of his neck. She shivered and wondered at herself for not having enjoyed all of this while she had been going to high school. She could have very easily. Most of the girls she knew had done all of these things with boys at school and even older men. Nan had many chances to copy their behavior, but had always backed out when it came down to the nitty-gritty.
Steve's mouth was busy and his tongue busier. When he nibbled at her clitoris, she sighed with pure desire and pushed his head down until he began to suck on the hard little digit. She closed her eyes and trembled expectantly. His tongue set her on fire and when he began to suck, she almost jumped up off the couch. The sensation drove her to the point of oblivion. All her nerve ends tightened and the very fiber of her body seemed to be of another being. She gasped and gulped for air as he pressed his assault on her pussy. Each motion of his tongue brought new visions to her enflamed mind.
Steve sucked and nipped expertly at her clitoris and his mouthing of her vaginal opening brought her to a rapid climax. Steve lapped at her cunt as she moaned, twisted, and pushed her cunt up to his face. He sucked and licked her until she came again and was almost ready to climb the walls. Nan hoped he would never stop and when she came the second time all the past, present, and future seemed to pass before her in a kaleidoscope of brilliant flashing lights. She now knew what it was like to find nothing mattered except desire and its fulfillment.
CHAPTER FOUR
Nan's excursion into bliss took her along the road of unending thrills. Her mind groped to comprehend all the new sensations searing her body. Steve's talented tongue probed, poked, and licked until she was soaring to heaven, borne on wings of carnal ecstasy.
She shivered and trembled, shook and squirmed, jerked and quivered in endless motion. Her climax exploded deep within her, flooding her vaginal passage with a torrent of hot, boiling cum. Her abdomen twitched convulsively and her thighs opened and closed spasmodically as Steve lapped at her pussy, gorging himself on the copious emissions flowing from her like a gushing oil well.
Her fingers, entwined in Steve's hair, strove to push his face yet further into her drenched crotch. Steve, hard put to breathe, carried on his valiant endeavor. He knew she had reached her breaking point and she had gone over the brink of sexual desire. He had pushed her into the abyss of complete and total debasement. She could refuse him nothing at this point and he knew it.
Nan, unable to control the utter feeling of abandonment satiating her vibrant young body, surrendered to this all pervading need and murmured, "Eat me, Steve. More, more, never stop. Deeper, do it deeper. That's it. There. Right there. Oh-h-h-h-hh. Uhh-h-h-h-h. Mm-m-mm."
Again she climaxed and the river of viscous vaginal secretions inundated Steve's face anew. He sucked, licked, and lapped at the quaking lips of her soft, swollen cunt and her writhings went on unabated. At last he tired of the game and raised his head, gazing into her face, still flushed with the excesses of the past few minutes. He wiped his face on the hem of her skirt and turned to the other two girls and Ed. The trio was in the halfway world of sated numbness. Each was exhausted from their round-robin bout with sex. Their nudity now seemed ludicrous.
Steve lay back and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Ed was sitting on the arm of the couch next to Nan and was removing her clothes which, up to now, had only been disarrayed and rearranged to suit Steve's needs. Nan made no effort to resist Ed's unhurried actions.
Steve grinned languidly, unwilling to exert himself beyond only the most minimum emotion. Nan, now nude, smiled up at Ed as he leaned over her, caressing her proud, pink-tipped breasts. The nipples had grown soft, but quickly returned to hardness under the skillful manipulations of the handsome chauffeur.
Nan murmured, "Oh, no, no more. I really have to go. I have to see Mrs. DiMintri." But, despite her words, she moved her body in a gesture unmistakable to any man. She wanted Ed to go on with his ministrations. She wanted to once again enter into the never-never world of total sexual experience. She pulled Ed's face down to her tits and moaned softly as his lips mouthed first one nipple to hard alertness and then the other. Her breath came in quick gasps. "Oh. Oh. That's nice. Your mouth is so nice. Don't bite so hard, just suck. It feels so good." She held his head to her firm breasts and trembled as his right hand caressed her thighs. The firm white flesh was smooth and cool to his touch. His fingers moved to the soft inner side of her thighs and slowly she spread her legs giving him access to the portals of paradise.
Slowly, maddeningly, his fingers traced a tortuous path to her valley of delight. Already her pre-seminal flow was lubricating the walls of her quaking cunt. She wanted him in her. All the way in. She wanted his big cock jammed into her up to those big hairy balls hanging below his hardening fuck-stick.
Her eyes never strayed from his cock which was slowly coming to life. She watched, entranced by the spectacle of his cock stiffening like rigor mortis was setting in. But she knew that exactly the opposite was true. His gigantic pussy-prodder was coming to life. It reared its head menacingly and she watched as the first drop of liquid glistened at the small mouth. It reminded her of a gorged gargoyle.
It was ugly and yet beautiful. She wanted it now. All of it. In her. Now. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around it. Ed's body twitched as she tightened her hold and she squeezed it gently. It grew longer and harder in her grasp. Blood rushed to the blunt knob, turning it crimson. She could feel the pulse of his heart as she massaged the grisly length of hard meat. Then Ed pulled her to her feet and bent her over the back of the couch again. She struggled to wrench free. "No, no, I don't want to do it like that again. I won't."
Ed laughed. "Hold still, tiger. You'll like it my way. I'm not too hot on that mustard highway routine. Just relax and let old Dr. Ed prescribe for his hot-ass little patient." He slapped her on the ass and warily she rested her head on her crossed arms, waiting to see what he was going to do. It really meant little to her what he did. She just needed his cock. Any way she could get it, but she didn't particularly want another ream job.
She looked back over her shoulder and watched as he held his snorting St. George in his right hand. His left hand rested on her hip as he guided his dripping lance between her legs. Then she felt the tip of it touch the moist and ready opening to her palace of pleasure. She realized he was going to stick his rampant ramrod into her cunt from behind. She trembled expectantly and groaned softly as the head of his pile-driver prodded the soft lips of her cunt.
Then he gripped her hips with both hands and with a steady forward pressure he pushed the enlarged head of his penis into her waiting snatch. She felt the lips of her vagina stretch to receive him. There was a little pain but soon a great pleasure filled her body. She wiggled her ass excitedly and Ed responded by slowly inserting his cock into her up to his balls.
She groaned and gasped, "Oh, my God, it's so big." And moved her ass to more easily take the full length of his mighty muscle. She had never had a cock this big in her before. Ed was even bigger than Steve and she could feel her cunt, stretched tight as the skin around a hot dog, begin to milk his giant prick.
Ed shifted his grip on her hips and began to fuck her in long, slow, easy strokes. His almost lackadaisical rhythm drove her wild. She gyrated her hips and pushed her ass back to meet his forward thrust and welcomed the entrance of his manly penis. She wondered if she would ever again have enough of this new sexual experience she was going through.
She moaned and twisted, taking all his cock at each inward stroke and feeling the lips of her cunt clasp the head of his prick at each outward stroke. Her pussy seemed to have a mind of its own as it quivered, gripped, and pulled at the invader. She moved her ass in a circular motion, relishing the sensations aroused deep inside her sex-inflamed body.
Ed fucked her faster and harder now. Each stroke was more violent than the last one. He sunk his cock into her up to his balls on each inward drive. She would only grunt and wiggle her lovely ass in an effort to take even more of his tool into her voracious cunt. She was fast approaching a climax and whimpered with delight as Ed rammed his cock into her in long rapid strokes.
When she came, it was with such a force that her knees buckled and she would have fallen to the floor except for Ed's hands holding her hips. She felt his grip tighten and as though from far away she heard him say, "Stick with it, baby. This cowboy's just begun to ride." Her cunt was a river of slimy secretions which lubricated his driving cock. Her mind exploded in skyrockets that seemed to set her brain on fire. All her nerves felt raw and the tingling ganglia of nerve ends in her cunt sent waves of wanton desire through her.
Ed fucked her as though nothing had happened. Her cunt was still tight around his cock and he wanted to see just how many times he could make her climax before he reached his own climax. He knew it would be some time before that happened. Sasha and Lilly had taken a lot out of him, in more ways than one.
His cock slid in and out easier now and her surplus of cum ran down his legs. Some of it ran down her legs and a lot of it just dripped out of her cunt, around the sides of his plunging cock, and dripped on the floor. Ed leaned over her, grasped her tits and rode her like a dog in heat. She ground her ass back to him and he could feel the muscles of her cunt grab at the head of his cock in its journey into the depths of her vagina.
When she came for the second time, he rested for a moment with his prick buried in her swollen pussy. Her juices gushed out around his cock and dripped a steady stream until there was a puddle on the floor. She gasped, "More, more. Do it some more. Don't stop!"
Ed grinned. "Really like it that much, honey? You just set your mind at ease, 'cause old Daddy Ed knows how to fuck more ways than a preacher knows ways to get your money."
His hands never stopped pinching her nipples and he held her tits firmly as once more he began a slow deliberate stroke. She bit her lower lip and wiggled her hips to hurry his desire. No sooner had she had her second climax than she felt another building up within her. It was like a rushing wall of water and a light brighter than a thousand suns blazed in her brain as her box filled again with the hot, starchlike juice.
Ed's cock made a sound like a plunger in a stopped-up toilet as he fucked her frantically, feeling the approach of his own climax. Nan responded almost too energetically and Ed had to hold her hips firmly. He plunged his prick into her cunt, feeling the pull of its suction clinging and bringing him finally to a climax.
He felt the hot, boiling juice churn within his balls. It rumbled and grew. His legs tensed and he put his arms around her waist, pulling her back tightly against him, burying his prick to the hilt in her gaping cunt. Then his load poured out, filling her with its hot, sticky fluid. She grunted and gasped, "Fill me. Fill me. I want it all."
Ed's body arched like an Apache bow, his body straining to realize each minute sensation of his monstrous climax. His cock erupted again and again, inundating her pecker-prison with an overly generous amount of virile solution.
Nan bucked and snorted, her body permeated by an all-consuming hunger. Her climactic throes failed to dislodge Ed, whose stout member remained ensconced within the soggy confines of Nan's pulsating pussy. But finally his rigid rapier softened in the heat of her gushing gash.
As his cock yielded to his physical depletion, Nan also began to regain some semblance of normality. Her body was numb and she only stayed on her feet because of Ed's hold on her hips. When Ed disengaged his wilted whang from her expanded twat, there was only a soft squ-i-i-sh before he looked down to check out her wonderful love nest.
Ed pinched her ass and said, "Baby, you undoubtedly have the wildest vaginal vacillations of any female since Cleopatra. From now on you're a member of the club." When he let her go, her knees buckled and she collapsed to the floor. Ed threw himself over the back of the couch, and Steve just sat there looking down at Nan.
After a few minutes Steve walked over to the bar and mixed himself a drink. He gazed at Lilly and Sasha who were both fast asleep on another couch. Ed was completely out of it and Nan was worn to a frazzle. He shrugged, walked over to the recliner chair, and stretched out. When he finished his drink, he too dropped into a deep sleep.
Lilly was the first to awaken. It was growing dark and Lilly turned on a lamp beside the couch. Her eyes took in the sleeping forms around the room. Their nakedness made her giggle. Despite the fact that she had indulged in these bouts since she had come to work for Mrs. DiMintri two years before, it never failed to amuse her to see a room full of naked bodies.
Quietly she went to the bar and mixed a pitcher full of martinis. Then she put a tape on the stereo and turned up the volume just enough to bring the other two girls and two men back to the world of fun and games.
Steve was the first one to awake and Lilly walked over and sat on his lap, giving him a drink as she planted her broad ass on his cock. Steve drank and at the same time began to fondle the pendulous boobs of the willing maid. The areolas surrounding her nipples were bigger than silver dollars and the dark veins beneath the almost translucent skin showed plainly.
Sasha sat up and when she saw Lilly and Steve she said, "What happened to the party? Maybe we're all getting too old for this sort of thing," and laughed. Steve told her to have a drink, then wake up Nan and Ed.
"It's a whole new scene, Sasha. Now, we'll get down to some serious fornicating. When this night ends, you girls are going to head for the hills. Wa-h-o-o-o-o!"
The girls laughed and Steve's outburst was all it took to bring Ed and Nan to life. Nan peered over the back of the couch on which Ed was lying. "What time is it? I must see Mrs. DiMintri."
This statement caused the other four to break up. All of them burst out in howls of glee. Ed reached over the back of the couch and pulled Nan over. She struggled weakly and protested even more weakly. Then her senses returned in a flash and she realized that she had indulged her morbid appetite to the delight of the four depraved persons in this room. Now she must put an end to it and either see the old lady or try another tack in uncovering the real story of Mae Gail Jetty.
Steve and the two girls watched raptly as Ed and Nan floundered on the couch. The more Nan struggled, the more Ed's hands sought out the erogenous areas of her nude body. His hands were everywhere and soon Nan's efforts to ward off his caresses dwindled to only a token resistance.
Sasha said, "Say there, how about sharing the goodies? Let's all get in on the act. It's time for a circus." Ed yipped with pleasure and pulled Nan to her feet. She stood mutely as Sasha walked over and surveyed the voluptuous curves of the newest initiate to the DiMintri house orgies.
She nodded to Ed who pushed Nan back on the couch and Sasha sat down beside her. "Now, honey, we'll show these big he-men how women like it best."
With this pronouncement she put her arm around Nan, who recoiled from the touch of another woman. But Sasha was persistent and, when Ed held Nan's arms, she was powerless. Sasha pawed the body of the girl, letting her fingers dally at the junction of her thighs. After several minutes of this Nan no longer felt disgusted by this unusual turn of events. The caresses of the raven-haired nurse were fomenting a spark of desire. Ed relaxed his grip on her arms, then let her go as he walked over for another drink.
Sasha nibbled at the budlike nipples of the aroused girl. Nan, her eyes only half open, mewled softly and let Sasha have her way. Nan succumbed completely to the blandishments of Sasha's knowing lips. Nan's nipples grew hard under the nurse's oral manipulations. When Sasha's hand pressed between her thighs, Nan obediently spread her legs to give access to her pubic region.
The nurse's fingers lost no time in preliminaries. Her index finger probed the pliant vaginal orifice which was still wet and dilated. When her finger touched the protruding clitoris, Nan twitched and lay back, legs parted in total abandon. Sasha began to finger-fuck her and Nan's rekindled desire mounted even more rapidly.
Steve walked over to join the fray and kneeled over Nan's upturned face, his flaccid penis hanging only inches from her lips. Nan looked up at his cock and quickly turned her face away. She tried to rise, but Steve held her shoulders and Sasha's educated fingers made her forget any idea of escape. She kept her face to one side, her nose touching the right knee of Steve.
Now Sasha's finger moved to the recently reamed asshole of the prostrate girl. When her finger moved into the tiny rubbery orifice, Nan twitched and groaned, "Oh, no, please don't. Not there. Oh-h-h."
Sasha worked her finger up the tight rectal passage, arousing in Nan memory of what had driven her to a frenzy only a few hours before. Nan's buttocks tensed and her sphincter muscle gripped Sasha's finger like a tightening rubber band. Sasha twirled her finger inside the warm cavity, increasing Nan's yearnings immensely. Sasha leaned over Nan and began laving the proud, rosy-tipped breasts.
Steve let his still limp cock brush over the face of the enthralled girl. Nan knew what he was doing, but she was wrapped in the arms of Eros and cared nothing of his desires as long as her own craving was fulfilled. The fire which burned in her loins could only be quenched by the lecherous fingers of Sasha.
Steve let his cock rest on Nan's red lips and she tried to ignore its weight. She thought of what he wanted her to do and her passion mounted as she began to think it wouldn't be too bad. Sasha was sucking and biting her now hardened nipples and driving her beyond endurance. Nan moaned and as her lips parted slightly as the head of Steve's cock moved across her mouth.
Involuntarily, she licked her lips and her tongue came in contact with his prick. Steve smiled down at her and said, "That's it, baby. Now just do what comes naturally. Pretend it's the biggest and best popsicle you ever tasted."
Nan hesitated and felt the weight of his cock resting on her mouth. Sasha's explorations had brought Nan to the crest of sexual torment. She wanted to experience everything. The inhibitions were still there, but they seemed very unimportant now. She opened her eyes and directly above, not four inches away, were his hairy testicles. The sac hung below his cock like a burlap bag with two watermelons within... on a smaller scale, of course. She quickly closed her eyes and once again she touched her tongue to the head of Steve's limber dick.
At that moment, Sasha hooked her thumb in Nan's oozing cunt. Nan's twat was now captured in Sasha's grip with her index finger still buried in the young girl's asshole. The indescribable sensation brought a gasp to her lips and the head of Steve's joint slipped into her mouth. Sasha, wanting Nan to do Steve's bidding, had been working toward this moment and she pushed her advantage with gentle agitation of Nan's private parts.
Now there was no hesitation. No decision to make. It was what Nan wanted. She opened her mouth wide and let Steve's cock fall into the warm wetness of her throat. Steve leaned on the back of the couch and looked down at Nan as she began to suck his pliant prick. Her lips mouthed it and her cheeks depressed as she slowly sucked on the rapidly hardening head. She discovered she liked it. The hot throbbing hardness of his big cock in her mouth excited her and made her want to please him.
Sasha moved her head down Nan's body, over her abdomen, pressing her lips to each gentle curve of the soft, white flesh. Her mouth brushed over the sensitive inner area of each full thigh and Nan writhed violently. Sasha pressed her lips to the dripping cunt of the girl and Nan sucked greedily on Steve's cock. Her mouth worked hungrily on the thick, throbbing sausagelike cock. Her tongue licked and enveloped the hard length of it as Steve slowly pushed it even further into her mouth.
Sasha sucked on the tender lips of Nan's cunt and bit gently at the clitoris just within the soft opening. Sasha was in a kneeling position between Nan's legs and it was a moment before she felt the hands on her hips. Then she felt something probe between her upraised buttocks. Ed slowly pushed his blood-gorged penis between the full, fleshy orbs of Sasha's generous ass. Sasha wiggled her hips to aid him in probing her waiting rectum.
She was working herself into a frenzy of unleashed passion. Her tongue licked at the hard nub of Nan's clitoris and she sucked at it like a demon. Nan tossed and tried to take even more of Steve's turgid cock into her mouth. Steve clenched his fists and trembled as his climax approached on crashing waves of thunder.
Lilly, not to be left out of the action, crouched behind Ed and, reaching between his legs, fondled his balls. This drove Ed on to mightier thrusts as he fucked Sasha's widening asshole. Lilly massaged and squeezed his nuts until he came in a climax that filled Sasha's bowels with his thick, creamy cum. His prick expanded and spurted like a ruptured firehose inside the vibrating tunnel of her lovely ass.
Sasha, feeling this wonderful explosion of cum within her, renewed her mouthing of Nan's cunt. Nan, by now nearing the edge of animal lust, thrust her pelvis upward to the searching mouth of the inspired Sasha.
Steve, close to a climax, was now kneeling over Nan's body, his head just above Sasha's bobbing head. Nan sucked harder, trying to bring him to the climax she knew must be so near. She wanted his cum to fill her mouth. She hungered for it and wanted to taste it as she had with Art Teffler.
Lilly was now worked up and she pulled Ed off Sasha, his cock still hard and ready. She dropped to her knees in front of him and eagerly took his wet cock in her mouth. She sucked the dregs of his cum from the expanded slit in the swollen head of his huge cock. Ed sat back and let her have her way. He knew how much Lilly loved to suck a prick. She really got her best kicks when she had a cock in her mouth. Ed was only too happy to oblige her every wish.
Steve moaned, "Now, Nan, now," and he rammed his cock down her throat as his balls exploded in a geyser of cum which filled Nan's mouth to overflowing. She swallowed, gagged, and choked as the hot, pungent juice spurted into her throat. She tried to catch every drop of his love juice, but it spilled out of the corners of her mouth and ran down her neck. She moved her head so that she just had the throbbing head of his cock in her mouth and sucked to get every drop of his load. Steve had been blown many times; but never like this. Nan was trying to suck his balls out through the end of his cock and he almost wished she could.
Sasha felt the first twinge of Nan's vulva and then a flood of white, creamy gravy poured out of Nan's cunt and Sasha lapped it up like a cat with a bowl of milk. She licked and sucked and Nan's contortions almost threw them all off the couch. Nan moaned and continued to belabor Steve's wilting prick.
He let her go on until his rampant rod was just a limp remnant of its former glory and then he raised himself. Reluctantly, Nan felt his prick slip from her mouth. Steve sat on the floor and watched Nan's final hip-grinding twitch. As Sasha looked up, Ed and Steve applauded.
She gave a smiling bow of her head, cum dripping from her lips. She looked up at Nan's face and saw that Nan too had a face full of cum. It was on her nose, cheeks, lips, and all over her neck.
Lilly was still kneeling between Ed's legs as he sat on the couch. She was sucking on his penis. Although it was still hard, she knew she would have to work on it a long time before he could cum again. Steve and Sasha left them to their pleasure and went over to the bar.
Nan lay there rubbing her cunt, moaning. She wanted more cock and was ready for anything. Why didn't one of them do something? Sasha noticed Nan's obvious need for further satisfaction and said, "That little broad still hasn't had enough."
She went over to a cabinet beside the bar and took out a long white object. Steve laughed and said, "If that isn't enough for her we better quit while we're ahead."
Sasha walked over to the reclining Nan and put the dildo in her hand. "Use this, sweetie. It's guaranteed to make or break you."
Nan looked at the dildo, uncertain what it was to be used for in this sexual orgy. Another look told her all she needed to know. It was about a foot long and curved gently in the shape of a man's cock. She didn't want to use it, at least not in front of these people, but the all-pervading lust which filled her had to be satisfied. She turned her mind off to the others, ignoring them as she inserted the tip of the dildo into her oozing cunt.
Ed glanced over at her and said, "You sure are a real cock-walloper, Nan. Take it easy with that thing or you'll never be satisfied with a man again."
Nan didn't even hear him as she pushed the dildo further into her waiting cunt. It was thicker than Steve's or Ed's pricks and her cunt stretched tightly around the smooth ivory surface. When she had about five inches of it up her snatch, she began to fuck herself slowly at first, then faster as the unusual dimensions of the dildo aroused her to wild ecstasy.
Lilly continued to suck Ed's cock and wasn't interested in anything else. Ed held her blonde head and moved her mouth up and down on his palpitating pole. Nan now had at least ten inches of the dildo rammed up her cunt and had just enough to hold onto or she would have to let it go. The onlookers urged her to further excesses. Nan, driven beyond all restraint, pushed harder and the dildo disappeared completely inside her pussy. Her body arched and she uttered an animallike cry which sounded like a cow being stuck by a bull.
She probed with two fingers inside her cunt until she managed to remove it far enough so that she could hold it properly and put some action into it. Steve and Ed stared wide-eyed at the spectacle of this young girl able to take the full length of the dildo and still go on fucking herself with the instrument.
Nan worked the hard dildo in and out, taking all but the last inch of it on each inward stroke. She groaned, grunted, and grasped as it penetrated her vagina, but she didn't stop.
At last she came and thrust her pelvis upward in a last mighty motion as she buried the dildo in her cavernous cunt. Again and again, she felt the spurt of her cum, like the plucking of a guitar string. The tune of lust in her mind reached a crescendo and then melted into a hazy euphoria. She felt like she had been drugged or had taken too much to drink.
Someone shook her shoulders and she opened her eyes. Sasha was standing next to the couch. "You better fish that thing out, honey. It's not doing you any good now."
Nan realized then that the dildo was completely submerged in the liquid-filled depths of her pussy. She pulled it out slowly with her thumb and forefinger. It was slimy and wet. The globules of cum adhered to the surface and it looked monstrous. Nan could hardly believe she had taken all of that. Just yesterday she didn't believe she could even take the normal length of a man's cock, and now she had graduated to even bigger and better things.
Lilly was just bringing Ed to a climax and Ed was urging her on. Nan watched the bobbing head of the girl and the action of her lips around the shaft of hard, throbbing meat. Lilly took his entire cock into her mouth each time she went down on it and Nan was amazed that Ed's big prick didn't choke Lilly. When Ed came, Lilly sucked like a calf to catch all of his hot, steaming cum.
Nan got to her feet and, though shaky, managed to get her clothes on and announced to the others that she was going to leave unless they let her talk with old Mrs. DiMintri.
Steve laughed, but Sasha apparently decided they had pulled Nan's leg long enough.
"You can't talk to the old lady," she said.
"After what you've put me through, why not?"
They all laughed at this.
"Don't try to tell us you didn't enjoy it," laughed Steve.
Nan blushed, despite herself. "That doesn't explain why I can't see Mrs. DiMintri."
"She's senile," Sasha explained. "When she's coherent, which isn't often, she only remembers her childhood. She doesn't recognize anyone, not even her own child. I can take you up to her if you want, but it won't do you any good."
Nan was furious at this admission. "You bastards!" she screamed at them. "Why didn't you tell me that at first?"
"And miss all the fun?" smiled Steve, walking her to the door.
"You've made me waste a whole day." Nan was near tears.
Steve saw she was truly angry, so he relented.
"Have you talked to Mary Lipsher?" he asked as he opened the big front door.
"No. Not yet."
"Well, she knows more about Mae than anyone does... and she knows where all the bodies are buried."
CHAPTER FIVE
The dreadful realization of what had happened the night before at the old woman's home overwhelmed Nan before she came fully awake the next morning and nearly submerged her in a sea of guilt and shame. God, she thought, that such a thing could happen to me-and what is worse, that I should submit as I did.
Despite a healing bath and night's sleep, Nan was still in considerable pain, and she moaned as her tortured posterior came in contact with the bed when she rolled over to get up. Sliding out of bed to stand tottering on the floor, she was immediately confronted with the necessity of making a decision-something no self-respecting person is willing to do first thing in the morning. Was she to abandon the story at this point-let the true story of Mae Gail Jetty sink into oblivion and admit that she'd blown her first big chance to prove herself as a reporter-or was she going to tough it out and get to the bottom of what her instincts assured was a great, potentially shattering scoop?
As she slid her nightgown over her head, the full-length wall mirror echoed the vision of her tiny, perfectly formed body. A sigh escaped Nan's lips at the sight. So much, she thought, I've given up so much already. What would it be worth if I stopped now?
A cup of coffee helped restore her resolve. Slipping into fresh underclothes, nylons, and her prettiest green minidress completed the process, and by 8:30 she was ready to return to her assignment. A glance at her notes told Nan what was next. Mary Lipsher: well-heeled lady about town, friend of the mighty and former confidential associate of Mae Gail Jetty.
Lipsher-Lipsher... there were only three in the phone book-Mary's was the second. Her address was listed as 202 The Towers, one of New Toronto's ultra-modern, ultra-posh high-rise cooperative apartment houses.
Nan picked up the phone, dialed the first three numbers, then stopped and let the receiver fall back into the cradle. No sense losing the element of surprise, she thought. For once on this assignment, I may have it on my side, and every little bit helps. Especially in trying to talk to this crowd.
"Hold it, little lady, where do you think you're going?" The voice froze Nan in midstride as she was reaching for the double glass doors of The Towers. She looked about, couldn't see the man who had spoken, then spotted the grilled speaker above the door and the glass eye of the television camera next to it.
"Press," she said, drawing herself up to her full five feet and speaking as imperiously as one can to a damned electric contraption. "To see Miss Lipsher."
"She expecting you, press?" the voice sounded a bit less authoritative.
"Why don't you check?" Nan demanded.
"That won't be necessary," the voice answered. "May I see your credentials, please?"
In sheer triumph, Nan removed her press card from her purse and waved it in front of the TV camera. "Satisfied?" she snapped.
"Yes," the voice said. "I hope you will be." With that cryptic remark the door in front of her clicked and sighed a few inches inward, yielding a tantalizing waft of air-conditioned comfort.
Nan entered the carpeted lobby which contained two settees, an end table with flowers, and two elevator doors, both open. The front door closed Softly and the electronic lock gave a subdued but authoritative click.
Apartment 202, she discovered, was the whole flaming second floor-nearly half a city block. The elevator disgorged Nan in a rather dull, featureless foyer that was anticlimactic after played-down luxury of the lobby. She rang the bell, half hoping Miss Lipsher was out, but after only a few seconds it was obvious Miss Lipsher was very much in.
Large, big-boned, well built and an incredibly young forty, Mary Lipsher stood framed in the open door, smiling warmly. "Yes?" she asked in a deep, yet soft voice.
Ah, thought Nan. At last, somebody in this weird setup I can talk to without getting molested, lied to, or worse. "Miss Lipsher," she said, "I'm Nan Flanders. I'm a reporter for the Gazette. I'm here on assignment. Do you mind if I come in?"
"I know who you are, my dear. And I know what you're after. I've received a half-dozen phone calls about you in the past three days, most of them from Mae's useless relatives and all of them advising me to tell you nothing." A smile warmed her face-all but her eyes, which had a peculiar animal hardness and hunger about them that was new to Nan. "Come in," she said.
The living room was needlessly huge and decorated in a cross between rococco and early wedding cake. Everything was either white, or white trimmed in gold and there wasn't a straight line anywhere. Every chair, table, couch, and windowsill curled and rolled and wriggled hideously. The shag on the white carpet was three inches deep and the couches and chairs were covered with what Nan took to be the pelts of long-haired, white dogs.
"Sit down, my dear," Mary said, indicating a couch nearly eight feet long. "Coffee? Tea? A drink?"
"Coffee, please," Nan said. She sat squarely in the center of the huge couch and immediately felt lost, as if she'd fallen in the midst of a snow bank. The couch's cushions reached up to embrace her hips and buttocks lasciviously and she thought for a moment she would sink clean out of sight in the unbelievably soft thing.
Mary was back in a trice, floating noiselessly through the vast white sea of carpet with two dainty white cups exactly half full of steaming coffee. The cups, each precisely centered in a gold-trimmed, white saucer of rose-petal delicacy, were placed on the glass surface of a serpentine-legged coffee table located exactly in the center of the area before the immense couch.
"Now, my dear," Mary said, sitting close beside Nan, "how may I help you?"
Briefly, Nan outlined her assignment-how she'd gotten onto the story and what she suspected might be the true background of Mae Gail Jetty. As she talked, Mary's hand, resting on the cushion between them, stroked and petted the white fur covering as if it were the flanks of some beloved pet-or of a lover.
"And what have you gotten so far?" Mary asked softly, when Nan had completed her narrative.
"Nothing," she said, looking at the floor.
"Nothing? Or nothing useful to your story?"
"Both."
"I find that difficult to believe. You see, I know the people you've talked to. I know most of them intimately, if you'll forgive a tiny pun, and I'm relatively certain you've gotten a good deal more than you bargained for."
Nan's hands slid up her thighs and clasped over her stomach convulsively at the memory of her last three days, but she said nothing and tried earnestly to stare a hole through Mary Lipsher's white shag carpet.
"Exactly as I thought," Mary said. "Did they hurt you?"
"Yes, oh, yes," Nan sobbed, and suddenly her head was resting on Mary's shoulder and she was pouring out the whole monstrous story. Mary listened and she clucked and her arm encircled Nan's shoulder comfortingly as the young girl's tale of woe gushed tearily all over her shoulder.
To her complete amazement, Nan suddenly felt Mary's hand leave her shoulder and move to her breast. The long delicate fingers cupped that green-draped orb and gently squeezed it. Nan fell silent and sat transfixed With amazement.
Mary's head dipped and her cheek was against Nan's other breast, nuzzling it. Nan's amazement changed briefly to revulsion, then to something quite different. Mary's hair was near her face and its scent, darkly mysterious and sensuous, combined with the manipulations of her breasts set a tiny flame flickering in her loins.
"Poor baby," Mary cooed, rubbing and stroking Nan's breasts softly. "Poor, poor baby. They've made it so bad for you when it can be so very, very good. You believe that, don't you? That it can be very good?"
"Yes," Nan said softly. "I believe it." Her mouth had gone quite dry so that she swallowed several times convulsively.
In a trice, Mary had unbuttoned the top three buttons of Nan's dress and her hand was inside, cupping first one breast, then the other, as she softly kissed Nan's throat and the creamy flesh of the tops of her breasts above her bra. Exercising the knowledge that only a woman could possess, Mary's hand expertly entered one cup of Nan's bra and the fingertips probed for the pink nipple which, despite Nan's feelings that this was all wrong, rose to meet them.
Lord, Nan thought, what am I doing? What is she doing to me and why am I letting her do it? I've got to get her out of my bra and myself to hell out of here. But at that moment, it became too late.
Mary's other hand, the free one that had lain discreetly on the other side of her, whipped across her body like a striking cobra and was under Nan's skirt and probing between her thighs before Nan could react.
"Oh," she sigh-sobbed, as the fingers pressed against her pubic bone and, for one tantalizing instant, brushed the nylon-covered lips of her vagina.
Then both hands were gone from inside her clothes, and for some reason Nan felt a lonely disappointment at their going. They were soft and gentle though insistent, and her body had responded gladly.
She needn't have feared that Mary was breaking off the offensive, however. She had merely stopped to bring up fresh reserves. Now Nan's eyes would be used as a fifth column against her will to resist the delights that awaited her.
It seemed as if Mary's hands hardly stopped as they slid across the fasteners of her skirt and blouse, and in seconds the older woman was gloriously nude. Her great breasts, capped by brownishly pink nipples, bobbed arrogantly at Nan and her perfect body squirmed against the white fur of the couch as she twisted this way and that to get rid of the final pieces of clothing. For one tantalizing second, her thighs pointed at Nan and the dark curls of red-lipped opening of her love nest were offered. Then she turned away.
Nan pinched her eyes tightly shut. Lord God almighty, she bellowed at herself in the secret privacy of her mind, what are you doing? You were looking at that woman's vagina and actually enjoying the sight. Lusting after her. How hideous. Get out of here, Nan.
But her mental aloneness was invaded again by Mary's questing fingers. This time they were applying their female expertise to Nan's clothes which were deftly stripped away in an amazingly short time.
Cool, air-conditioned air wafted across her nude body and she felt the delightfully cool softness of the white fur beneath her buttocks and thighs. Keeping her eyes tightly closed, she told herself over and over that it was all a weird dream-that she'd awaken any second at home in her own bed. But Mary's lips and tongue assured her that this was indeed reality as they found the nipples of her ripe young breasts and sucked each in turn hungrily into her mouth.
The tiny fire in Nan's loins burst into a full-blown wildfire of passion at the sensation, and her hands went up to become lost in Mary's hair and to encourage her assaults on Nan's breasts. Mary's tongue fairly lashed at Nan's nipples at the encouragement, and one hand drifted softly down across her belly to fondle the nest of soft curls at its base.
Nan's hips commenced rotating of their own volition, pushing her pubic area against Mary's hand, and she couldn't make the motion cease no matter how hard she tried.
Suddenly Mary's lips were gone from her breasts and were tracing a line of fire down her belly toward that blazing inferno of passion between her legs. My lord, she thought, if she doesn't stop soon, she'll have to kiss my vagina. The thought of a woman doing that to her was revolting for a tiny instant, but as Mary's lips dropped lower and lower and her hand pressed harder and harder against her pubic bone, the thought became less and less revolting to Nan until she came to the realization that if Mary didn't kiss her soon she would surely die.
Somewhere far off, in another room, or another world or another universe, someone was moaning and cooing and mewling in desire and passion-begging for fulfillment. To her utter shock, Nan realized it was her. Her fingers were digging convulsively into Mary's hair, trying to force her head lower and lower. Mary's lips and tongue were in her pubic hair, replacing her fingers, and Nan's hips were gyrating. Mary's hand went to her knees and slowly parted them. Now, Nan thought. Oh, God, yes, now is the time. I'm just like her. Just like Mae Gail Jetty. So what the hell? Why shouldn't I do this, this ultimate thing. At least there's no hurting involved.
As if she could read Nan's mind, Mary chuckled deep in her throat and said, "Now I'll show you how good it can be. How it was meant to be, with no hurting. And only we women can understand. As only we can do for each other."
Hands and arms encouraged Nan to lie down, to disengage her fingers from Mary's hair. Then soft hands lifted one leg to place her foot on the couch back and the other leg to let her foot drop to the floor. Dreamily, she opened her eyes and stared blearily at the snowy ceiling that teemed a million miles above her. For a second, Mary's head was in view, then it vanished below the mound of Nan's breasts, and she could feel those lips puckering in anticipation as Mary's mouth moved closer and closer.
Just at the moment Nan feared she would die of anticipation, Mary's lips touched, then closed on her cunt and pressed the lips of it in a soft kiss.
"AAAAAAEEEEEEHHHHH," Nan yelped in sheer delight, and her hands flew to Mary's head in a convulsive effort to pull all of her inside Nan's aching, flaming cunt where a river of white-hot lava was coursing down the cavity toward Mary's lips. The action drove Mary into a frenzy and, without warning, her tongue lashed out and shot between the lips of Nan's dripping, puckering, blazing cunt.
Each nerve in Nan's body seemed, for the first time in her life, to be gloriously alive and casting about for sensation, and all of them seemed to end in the glowing pussy where Mary's tongue was working miracles of passionate delight.
Nan's womb ached and quaked as Mary's tongue slid from front to back, from left to right, below the surface of her cunt, then probed deep toward the door of her womb and withdrew. Nan's clitoris peeped inquiringly out of its tiny foreskin and was immediately rewarded and Mary's tongue found it. Then it was sucked up into Mary's mouth and nibbled at gently and allowed to retire to its rightful place at the top of Nan's cunt where it got a good tongue lashing.
"Oooohhh, Ggggooooddd," Nan moaned, staring pop-eyed at the ceiling and trying to scalp Mary with her fingernails. Mary's tongue answered by dipping once, twice, three times deep into Nan's cunt, then slowly pulling back with a sucking sound to return to her quivering clitoris. Mary's hands found the white globes of Nan's ass and squeezed them, forcing her hips off the couch and the lips of Nan's cunt into her mouth. Then one finger probed at her asshole and forced its way in.
"AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEE," Nan screamed in pain and passion as her ass shot toward the sky and her cunt was completely impaled on Mary's tongue, which seemed to have grown nine feet long.
Now something new was happening. Never losing her mouth's grip on Nan's cunt, Mary was rising off the couch and shifting. Her knees transported her across the rug so that her body was half laid across Nan's, with her heavy, hard-tipped breasts pressing against her quivering belly. Mary's leg rose so that her knee rested on the edge of the couch and her hips were half on and half off. As her lips and tongue sucked, laved, and probed at Nan's cunt, her hips began a slow gyration, driving her own hungry cunt into the fur couch cover beside Nan's cheek.
She wants me to do it to her, too, Nan realized in horrified revulsion. She wants me to lick and suck her cunt like she's doing to me. In awful fascination, Nan watched Mary's rotating hips as they turned toward her and her smooth, white thigh slid across her cheek. As it completed its slow march to Nan's other ear, Mary's beautiful, red-lipped, dripping cunt came into view just inches from her mouth.
Mary's hips continued to rotate lasciviously as she adjusted herself atop Nan, and her tongue, teeth, and lips kept Nan's cunt ablaze as her own passion slit inched ever nearer Nan's lips. I can't do it, Nan thought desperately. I just can't. I love what's happening to me, and I know it would give her as great a feeling, but I just can't.
But once again, Nan's clitoris did her dirt. It rose on wings of passion and flew again into Mary's mouth to be nibbled, lipped, and tongued, and in a spasm of pure delight unfelt by human soul since the garden of Eden, Nan grasped the pale bulbs of Mary's ass and pulled her triumphant cunt to her mouth. The taste, instead of something revolting, was of musk and honey at the first kiss. Then, timidly at first, she let her tongue slide past the lips of Mary's cunt and tasted the sweet juice of passion. It was delicious and exciting, and the warm depths of Mary's soft, moist cunt dragged her tongue onward, and the sensations her mouth was receiving blended with the sensations in her cunt to set her entire body aboil.
The two flames that were Mary and Nan melted together, combined, danced, and weaved in an orgy of delight, then melted together again. They sucked, smacked, writhed, and twisted in mewling submission to one another for what seemed to Nan to be an eternity, then an explosive charge built up in Nan's stomach and began working toward her dripping, rolling, boiling pussy. For the first time in her short life, she was feeling the approach of a massive orgasm and for an instant it scared hell out of her. But only for an instant. Then she was aboard the crest of the wave of passion, riding it toward climax, just as she explosively reached her own moment of fruition and bit down hard on Mary's quaking, aching clitoris.
"Iiii'mmmm Coooommmmmiiinnnnggg," Nan screamed, her feet shooting up to aim at the white ceiling and her head snapping away from Mary's cunt.
"Aaaaarrrrrrrggggghhhhhh," Mary shrieked, her back arching and her heavy breasts boring into Nan's defenseless stomach.
After she'd stopped quaking, Mary rolled to the floor and lay on her back, legs akimbo and panting in absolute satisfaction that was matched by Nan's satisfied breathing. "See?" Mary said. "It can be good, can't it?"
"Oh, boy, can it ever," Nan whooped in triumph. She rolled over and fell off the couch onto Mary and buried her tongue deep in the older woman's cunt, then drew back and sat on the edge of the couch to take a sip of her cold coffee, which tasted bland after the delights she'd just experienced.
They dressed in contented silence, and Nan hardly noticed that her panties were missing. They had discreetly vanished beneath one of the cushions of the love couch. Soon they would join other pairs of panties in a most secret trophy case in a most secret room in a corner of the huge apartment.
"Oh, yes," Mary Lipsher said as she was letting Nan out the door. "You came for information about Mae."
"Good grief," Nan said slinkily. "I completely forgot."
Mary smiled knowingly. "Good," she said. "Incidentally, you were absolutely right in your suspicions about Mae, but all I can give you is my word on that. If it's proof you're after, it exists. Mae liked her looks and her love and she made movies, took photos, and kept journals."
"Great. All I have to do is get my hands on them. Are they here in New Toronto?"
"Oh, they're here, all right, in Mae's upstairs study in the old Jetty place."
"The Jetty place! So close all the time. Do you have a key?"
"No. There's only one, and I hate to think of the price you'll have to pay to get it."
"Who has it?"
"Art Teffler, my dear."
"Shit."
CHAPTER SIX
Nan floated dreamily down in the elevator and drifted out of The Towers in a warm fog of sexual euphoria. As the glass doors clicked into place behind her, she was hardly aware of the soft chuckle that drifted from the speaker grille.
I may have just died and gone to heaven, she thought as she stood on the sidewalk, seeing nothing, allowing the warm Southern California breeze to waft up beneath her minidress to dry her still-moist, bare pussy. Her romp with Mary on the furry couch had been singularly satisfying for two reasons, Nan decided. First, it had been absolutely blissful, and second, she now felt as if she were physically and psychologically closer to Mae Gail Jetty.
And it was so very important for her to capture that great lady's real character and makeup before they were forever entombed in the stuff of mythology. All the good she did must not be allowed to completely submerge the rest of her being. And neither, Nan decided, must the memory of any of her early peccadilloes be permitted to taint the good things of Mae Gail Jetty.
In order to decide how much to reveal in print, Nan first had to see the woman's memoirs and films. And to see them, she first had to get the key to the Jetty mansion. And in order to obtain the key, she must... Bitter, sick humiliation washed over her and she nearly gagged. But, she decided, what must be must be. Turning, she began the short walk to her car. And instantly froze.
Leaning against a lamppost near Nan's car and failing miserably to be inconspicuous, was Aaron Stemfelder, cur extraordinary and curse of the journalistic world.
So! The Telegram was onto the story of Mae Gail Jetty, and it had assigned its most tenacious and least-principled reporter to the job. The long, skinny, lazy bastard hadn't even the courage and determination to dig up his own yarn-he much preferred to ooze along in Nan's wake until the proper moment, then step in, seize the dirt, and blast the Jetty memory to smithereens.
How much Stemfelder knew or guessed, Nan couldn't know, but she was sure as hell not going to give him any more without a fight. Turning on her heel, she marched away from her car and down the sidewalk. Glancing in a store window, she could see the reflection of Stemfelder shuffling along behind her at an indiscreet twenty paces. The rat doesn't want to play ditchit, she thought, so I'll have to lose him another way.
Ducking quickly into a women's shop next to an alley, Nan marched straight through the shop and into the restroom at the rear. Since she was in a John, she took advantage of the appliances, then looked for a bolt-hole. Sure enough, there was a delivery entrance onto the alley at the side of the small stockroom. Opening it, she stepped into a typical box-and-garbage-can-strewn alley and let the door click shut. As insurance, she stayed close to the wall and jammed a tall wooden box against the outer doorknob. There, she decided, that'll hold him while I go around a few blocks and sneak back to my car. Then she turned and for the first time discovered she'd stepped into a blind alley.
Caught like a stupid little rat in a trap... impaled on her own blithering incompetence. Ever since she'd begun this assignment she'd been walking headfirst into self-made stupid situations and here she was again, hung out to dry. This time, worst of all, she'd fouled up and made herself appear stupid in a duel with another newspaper reporter. And, she decided, she really was stupid.
Her mental self-flagellation was halted by the appearance of an elongated shadow at the open end of the alley. Stemfelder had caught onto her gambit more quickly than she would have believed. Now what? She couldn't just mosey out of the alley past him, whistling a merry tune. He already knew what a dumb little broad she was. Frantically, she reached for the store's doorknob. Locked, naturally. Then she saw it.
Near the rear of the alley stood a huge wooden beer barrel with piles of wooden crates alongside it. A wooden lid was on top of the barrel which looked big enough to hold Nan. Now if only it wasn't full of trash... She ran to it, climbed the boxes alongside, raised the lid, and peered in. Thank heaven it was empty save for an untidy pile of discarded clothing at the bottom. Sliding her legs over the barrel's rim, Nan dropped in.
Peter Dingle knew he had lived through another night of besotted bliss and was awakening, because he was aware of light passing through a knothole and his cock was beginning to stiffen.
For nearly twenty years, since he'd given up the pretense of being a mere mortal and had given himself over to the delights of a daily quart of wine, Peter Dingle had slept every night in this same beer barrel and had greeted each new day with a self-satisfying masturbation.
During those two decades he had neither toiled, nor had he been cold sober. Also, he'd not bathed, had changed clothes only once that he was sure of, and had never shaved or had his hair cut. In fact, all he had done was to occasionally move his barrel from one alley to another when it became painfully apparent that either the police or the Salvation Army had discovered where he was holed up. Both had been after Peter Dingle for twenty years, and he was certain both had a price on his head.
This morning was no different than any other and it could be no different. At exactly 11 a. m. sunlight entered a knothole in the side of his barrel, awakening him. He would jack off for approximately seven minutes, cum explosively through the knothole, take a short nap, then leave his barrel long enough to swipe or panhandle a quart of wine. That was the ordained order of things and that was exactly how Peter Dingle liked things to be.
In two decades there had been but one worthwhile variation. On that delightful occasion, an uncertain number of mornings ago, a tomcat had been passing his barrel's knothole just at the moment of truth and had been whitewashed into shrieking flight. Ah, no matter. That was another time, in another alley. This was today, and he was here, and his swelling cock awaited proper attention.
Stroking it, he let himself fall into creative reverie. What fantasy should it be for today? The queen of Spain? The fat lady in the circus? The sexy midget? Yes, that was it. The sexy midget. No such creature existed, of course, but Peter Dingle and his imaginative cock liked to think so. A true living doll, tiny, perfectly proportioned and with a cunt desirous of being filled. Yes, that was the perfect one. His mind built an image of her and his fingers wrapped gently but firmly around the shaft of his cock. This will be a classic jackoff, he told himself dreamily as he began to pull slowly upon his staff of life.
Then everything fell apart at once. There was a terrible shaking and rattling of the boxes next to Peter's barrel-so shocking that he broke his rhythm. As if that weren't bad enough, the cover of his barrel was suddenly and unceremoniously lifted and the barrel moved slightly as somebody first looked in, then entered.
It was one of those rare moments that pass in extreme slow motion, so that each nuance is transmitted from the eye to the brain. Peter's hand never left his cock, and his mind came only halfway out of its fantasizing. But he cast one eye balefully upward. There, suspended in midair above his head, drifting slowly down toward him, was a cunt. He hadn't seen one in twenty years, but Peter's memory was fairly sharp on such things, and, by the Great Horned Spoon, that was a cunt if ever he'd seen one. To port and starboard of the delightful, muff-covered crease were creamy thighs, and above all billowed what appeared to be a green parachute.
Could he, indeed, have died during the night? Had he crossed the Styx all unbeknownst and entered into his final reward? Unlikely, he decided. The female apparition descending toward him had the proper holes in the proper places, and he was sure they wouldn't have in the sort of hell reserved for him.
So this must still be earth, and Peter Dingle must still be alive. And for some reason, the Almighty was answering the prayers of inconsequential little Irish winos this particular morning. Peter had no idea why this female of the species with the bare snatch had been dropped through the lid of his barrel, but he wasn't the sort to look a gift horse in the mouth, or a gift piece of ass in the reasons.
"Thank you, sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Peter muttered, crossing himself. At the last instant he remembered to toss in a postscript of thanks to St. Patrick, then he reached up and let his hand enfold the descending cunt and bottom just above his head and guided it toward his madly throbbing cock.
The cunt and its surrounding hairs were soft, warm, and moist, exactly as Peter Dingle had remembered them. The lips were so moist that his middle finger slipped between them with no difficulty at all as he guided the creature downward. Heaven be praised, as he lowered the cunt into his bailiwick, it was followed by a sexy midget. This was, indeed, a day of complete miracles. A day to rival cumming on a tomcat. She was perfect. Tiny, beautiful, round, small-waisted and big titted. He sat her sideways on his stomach just as she was preparing to let out a scream of shocked outrage, which he saw coming, and clapped his hand over her nose and mouth.
"Whoa, there, m'love," he croaked obscenely into her ear, taking a tiny nibble at the lobe. "God's gifts aren't to balk at being accepted."
A look of sick terror crossed the tiny creature's lovely face and her eyes bulged hideously, as if she were about to vent her gorge at the sight, sound, and odor of Peter Dingle. That, in fact, was what Nan was about to do, but he quashed the idea when he peered through his knothole and whispered, "So that's what it's about. You're being chased. Softly, now, m'dear. He's at the far end of the alley, but he's coming in. Stay very, very, still, and he'll never suspect you're in here with old Peter Dingle."
A wine-soaked individual he might be, and most wretched of God's creatures he certainly was, but Peter Dingle was no idiot, and he put two and two together with amazing alacrity. What it added up to was that this lovely little leprechaun on his lap, and whose pussy he was massaging, was being chased by the cur in the alley and that he, Peter Dingle, was in the agreeable position of being able to offer sanctuary in exchange for nookie.
"Ah, my dear child, 'tis one of Satan's own dark demons, that creature that's pursuing you," Peter purred, his voice assuming the well-oiled tones of an expert in retirement and his finger moving about, exploring the delightful recesses of her cunt. "But you needn't be fearing him. We'll see that you stay nice and safe. Just slide about here, m'love and make yourself comfortable." Reluctantly removing his hand from her cunt, Peter softly took her knee and passed it over his head, so that she sat facing him. As he did so, her delightful love nest winked invitingly at him, and his cock bucked and snorted in anticipation.
Why me, God? Nan screamed in the silent cavity of her mind. How and why can this be happening to me? The shock had overwhelmed her when she realized the heap of filthy rags at the bottom of the barrel had come to life, so that everything else to this point had come as something of an anticlimax. The hand grabbing her cunt, the finger entering it, the unbelievable, overwhelming stench at the bottom of the barrel, the filthy hand that smelled of unwashed genitals clapped over her mouth, the rasping voice from the hideous, white-bearded face opposite her, then the smooth invitation to share the monster's safety had been rapidly descending shocks.
Now this. Her leg passing over his head and his red-rimmed eyes gazing rheumily at her cunt, then finding herself being adjusted onto his lap again. She was had, and she knew it.
No escape. The rat was in the trap once again through blind stupidity, and Nan knew once again her cunt was going to be the supreme victim of her ignorance.
"Now then, m'love," the ripe old one cooed, "you most surely don't want to make any noise and let that creature out there know you're in here with old Peter Dingle." He removed his putrid hand from her mouth and Nan remained silent, taking in great gulps of air, "I thought not," he said, putting both hands under her bottom and lifting her. "There, now, that's better, isn't it?" As he lowered her, Nan felt her cunt being invaded by a cock that, since she couldn't see it in the dark, was made huge by her imagination. And it was big. Peter had built it by hand and he had built well. Too well. A sheet of white-hot pain shot up Nan's cunt, past her womb and fairly ripped a screech of agony from her throat.
"Whoop, there, m'love, softly," Peter grated, releasing her bottom to clap his hand back over her mouth. Having been suddenly dropped, Nan fell all the way, driving Peter Dingle's huge cock past the hilt into her protesting pussy.
"Mmmmmmmrrrrnnnnnneuuuff," she silently bellowed as Peter's hand dammed up her mouth and kept the scream in. Since the pain couldn't escape through her mouth in the form of a scream, it vented through her asshole in the guise of a long, drawn-out, moist fart.
"Aaaaaaaahhhhhh," sighed Peter, "that's much better." With that he uncovered her mouth again and unbuttoned the front of her dress. "What's needed is a little frosting on the cake."
Nan sat quietly gasping, impaled on the monstrous cock of this obscene little old barrel-dweller, undecided whether she most wanted to vomit or die in agony at the pain of his root forcing its way into her womb. And now his hands were pawing at her dress and her bra-scratching and digging at her breasts, which suddenly came free as her bra was unhooked. As her pink-tipped pleasure mounds bounced out of her dress, Peter Dingle grabbed the closest one, raised it to his lips and sucked the nipple hungrily into his mouth. At the same time, his great cock, which had been at rest since it invaded her, bucked deep inside Nan, triggering nerve endings she didn't know she possessed, and which, together with the nerves in her breasts and the fact that her cunt had just been lovingly eaten, sabotaged her.
Both nipples shot straight out, one to be gripped by Peter Dingle's pinching fingers, the other to be nipped by his broken, yellowed teeth. At the same time, Nan's hips, working against her will, tried to rotate. Stop, goddamn you, she screamed in the mind at her traitorous breasts and cunt. Stop it this instant! There can be no pleasure in being raped by this obscene, inhuman slug of a thing. But her breasts sneered at her and went on enjoying being tweaked, sucked, and bitten. And at that moment her treacherous clitoris joined with her womb and hips, as the little member again rose from its foreskin, demanding its fair share of the booty.
"Uuuunnnnhhhhuuuuunnnnnhhhhh, uuuunnnnhhhh," Nan moaned in rhythm with the suction on her nipple and the throbbing of Dingle's cock deep within her and the more violent rotations and gyrations of her hips and ass. Dingle glanced out his knothole and removed her nipple from his mouth long enough to warn her to be still, that Stemfelder was still in the alley, but that he was rapidly losing interest.
Nan froze at the memory of the emaciated bastard who had pursued her straight onto the cock at the bottom of the barrel. For an instant she was half tempted to cry out for help and have Stemfelder rescue her from her impalement. But she knew she couldn't. To Nan being seen like this would have been even more humiliating than being forced upon Peter Dingle's peg.
And besides, her pussy, still half hungry from its eating, was at the point of totally sabotaging her. Under Mary's mouth, it had learned to pucker, to kiss while being kissed, and now it was experimenting with Peter Dingle's cock as it had toyed with Mary's tongue. First the lips of her cunt, then the whole passage, clear to hex; womb, was puckering around the big cock it enfolded, and sucking and fucking it deeper and deeper into her.
The lips of her cunt worked at the base of his cock and pulled his pubic hair, forcing his balls to scrunch up. Further down within the recesses of her, Nan's vaginal passage quivered and undulated like the sensuous gullet of a love serpent, playing with every inch of Dingle's long shaft, while at the head, the tiny opening of her womb contracted and expanded in rhythm with the lips of her cunt, nibbling maddeningly at the head of his cock.
"Oooooofffff," Dingle muttered. "Gently, girl, gently. I'm not as young as I once was. You'll kill me for sure. I can't fuck you back. Damn you, you little wench, your cunt's biting my cock off."
At that moment, thankfully for Nan, Stemfelder gave up in disgust, assuming she'd given him the slip and, in the heat of drink, wandered off in search of a bar.
Nan's cunt and breasts could no longer tolerate this soft, secret, quiet licking and dicking. They had to be fucked properly and they had to have it right now. Pulling back from Dingle she got his cock halfway out of her cunt and drove it back in once, twice, a third time.
"Oh, my God, lass, you're a real one, aren't you?" Dingle chortled, checking his knothole to make certain Nan's pursuer had given up the chase. "Well, then, m'dear, let's you and me give it a real fuck, shall we?" he said, backing all the way out of Nan, taking dead aim and driving his cock home with all the force of twenty years of wine-soaked masturbating behind it.
"Aaaaarrrrrrggghhhhhh," Nan screamed, as the swollen head of Dingle's cock shot the full length of her vaginal passage and tried to violate her uterus. "Sssstttooppp. Yoooouuuu'rree kiiillliiinnnnnnggggggg mee!" she howled.
"Nothing of the sort, old darlin'," Dingle cackled, pulling back and sliding his cock in and out just at the lips of Nan's blazing cunt. "Nothing of the sort. Just gettin' things well oiled for the fun to come." Placing his hands on Nan's ass, he slowly pulled her to him again, burying his cock in her without as much speed this time.
"Uuuuunnnnnggggghhhhh," she moaned, as her cunt again took up the task of slurping away at his cock.
"My sentiments exactly," Dingle said. "Now brace yourself, love, 'cause I'm ready to stop playing and start fucking."
Having declared his intentions, Dingle set about carrying them out. Gripping the cheeks of Nan's ass, he commenced a rhythmic humping, pumping and jumping, his cock slithering slimily the full length in and out of Nan's cunt, which fought furiously to foil its flight time then gleefully gobbled the whole great, globular gland at its next appearance.
Nan's hips and ass forced their way into the act with a slow, steady gyration that set Dingle all aquiver as her grasping cunt rolled this way and that, setting every nerve in his ruined old cock tingling. The two of them fucking in rhythm was more than any beer barrel was meant to bear, and it began a motion all its own, dancing first this way, then that, adding to the sensuous delights within.
Dingle's hands dug convulsively into the cheeks of Nan's ass again and again, and in desperation she gripped the barrel's staves with her fingers and toes, not daring to touch the repulsive old creature, but needing something to hang onto as she fucked him and was fucked to the quick by him.
Then one of his fingers probed between the cheeks of her ass and found the all too recently violated hole lying deep within the pale globes. His finger toyed at the edge of her asshole as his cock slid in and out, in and out of her cunt. Suddenly, without warning, he jammed his finger past the opening of her asshole and his cock rammed to the hilt so that his balls slapped the backs of her thighs all in one convulsive motion.
"Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhh," Nan screamed, as she convulsed like a frog touched by the wires from a battery. Her sudden leap, together with the torque of Dingle's drive was too much for the barrel, which gave up trying and-tipped over backward.
Suddenly Nan was flat on her back, with Dingle lying full on top of her, his finger jammed up her ass, his cock buried in her cunt and one of her breasts sucked halfway down his throat. His cock bucked as he rotated his hips, and her hips echoed the motion. Then the barrel joined in, rolling slowly first to port, then to starboard, accenting Dingle's every thrust and Nan's every parry. From slow gyrations, their tempo increased as the increased torque of the moving barrel drove Dingle's dangling dong deeper, ever deeper, into Nan's tortured, but desirous cunt.
Dingle got a second finger into Nan's asshole alongside the first one and her gyration increased. Suddenly she was on top, as the barrel rolled clear over, and it was she who drove with her hips and her torn ass, forcing Dingle's dick deeper and deeper into her slurping, smacking cunt.
Something was happening within Nan that was completely new to her. She'd had an orgasm a short time before under the educated lips and tongue of Mary, but this was something else again. Dingle's great cock was building a load of passion in her belly that fairly threatened to blast the top off her head when it finally came. And lord, how she wanted it to come. Digging her feet into the floor of the barrel, she bore down with all her might and weight, and Dingle responded by thrusting up at her, so that the top of the root of his cock slammed against her clitoris and it screamed for more and more and more.
The barrel rolled over again, putting Dingle back into the driver's seat. That old sot knew his stuff, and drove with an authority unseen in the Western world since the heyday of the great, boozy lechers of the Roman empire.
And yet again the barrel rolled, giving Nan command of the situation. But only for an instant, as she shoved her cunt around Dingle's cock. The barrel was now operating on its own initiative and it continued to roll up the alley toward the dead-end wall, giving Nan and Dingle a perfect ride, with one on top, fucking like mad, then the other on top doing the fucking. Fucking and groaning and building incredible backlogs of orgasmic passion, Dingle and Nan fucked up the alley in the slowly turning, tumbling barrel, with first one fucker and the other the fuckee, then with the tables turned.
The barrel hit the back wall of the alley and started back down toward the street at a tangent, gaining speed as it went, due to the natural slope of the alley toward the street, so that Nan and Dingle had to fuck with increasing speed during their brief times on top, in order to get maximum benefit out of the barrel's help.
Their speed and excitement only increased the barrel's speed, so that when it bounced off one wall of the alley and went spinning away in the other direction, Dingle's cock crashed into one wall of Nan's cunt and his teeth ripped at the nipple of her breast, giving them both sensations of sexual strangeness unknown before to man and only vaguely dreamed of by gibbons and such other free souls.
Nan felt orgasm welling within her as the barrel slewed around again and shot across the alley. Her cunt hung onto Dingle's cock for dear life as they rolled and tumbled together, and her heels dug into his ancient ass, further locking their bodies.
"Yaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhoooooooooo," Dingle yelled at the top of his lungs, as his huge cock pounded her cunt to tatters. "Ride 'em, cowboy. Here we go, little lady, here I come. Watch the top of your head."
"Iiii'mmmmmmm cooooommiiinnnngg!" Nan shrieked, doing it. At that moment the barrel, slewing, struck a wall dead on, and the twisting, driving motion forced its lid off and its passengers out the top, to lie shuddering in orgasmic unconsciousness on the pavement in the warm California sunshine.
Centuries later, Nan came to. Dingle's fingers had withdrawn from her asshole, his mouth had dropped her breast, and his cock, moments before a monstrous shaft, was slithering softly out of her cunt as it shrank. She became aware of the warm air wafting over her bare ass and breasts, then of the concrete pressing against her thigh. Then she got her first clear look at Peter Dingle, the grinning bundle of rags lying close beside her. She was horribly sick. Hauling her cunt away from his shriveling cock, she rolled over and vomited.
As she staggered to her feet and groped for her purse just inside the barrel, she heard Peter Dingle cackling. "By God," he said, "that's one no goddamned tomcat can equal."
Staggering blindly down the alley toward the street, Nan heard scraping sounds behind her. Peter Dingle had reerected his barrel and crawled back inside to await another gift from heaven or whatever else life and wine might bring him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nan realized she had to hurry. She had one more day to get into Mae's old mansion, find the information she wanted, and write her story. True, she could make a passable feature out of the information she already had and from the files at the Gazette, but that wasn't good enough... and as long as there was time to do better, she was going to try.
There was something else to consider, too. Aaron Stemfelder wanted the story for his scandalmongering column. Nan was convinced that Mae's private life was like something out of a Greek orgy and she was sure an expose on the old lady would be gleefully accepted by sensation-loving newspaper readers... but it was just possible that Mae deserved more in the way of fair treatment from the press as well as from the world she had so richly endowed.
Also, Aaron Stemfelder was right behind her. He had learned about everything except the old mansion. Nan knew he was still following her and she knew that somehow she must prevent him from getting the proof of Mae's sexual degeneracy. After all, the old lady had changed when she left New Toronto and she had apparently given away everything she owned in town to keep all the witnesses-especially Art Teffler-from talking. Although they had kept their silence while Mae Jetty was alive, now that she was dead, none of her former New Toronto playmates seemed to care whether or not her good reputation remained intact.
Nan was sitting at her desk, staring at her telephone, knowing what she had to do and hating herself because she was almost looking forward to another tussle with Teffler. It seemed to her, now that she thought about it, she could put to harmful use the knowledge of his lewd and twisted way of life. The thought made her smile an evil smile... then she caught herself. I can't use his trick, she realized. Blackmail is the kind of thing Teffler himself would employ. If she used it too, she would become like him. Her conscience wouldn't allow it. She would have to go to him for the key, but she knew she wouldn't use blackmail to pry it out of him.
We'll play it by ear, she thought, a newborn toughness expressing itself in her. She picked up the phone.
Teffler was anxious to see her. He almost sounded friendly.
"I'm a businessman," he repeated to her over the phone. "I know you want into the old house and I have a perfectly fair bargain for you."
"W-what sort of bargain. I should think I'd paid enough."
"Yeah. Well, you may be right. You paid a good fee. Very satisfactory. But you didn't hang around long enough to collect your end of it. Now the proposition is changed, baby," his voice fell back into its sneering tone, "and I got a friend who can work everything out for both of us... that is, if you really want the key."
On her way over to Teffler's Nan's mind produced images of the orgy she'd been forced to take part in the day before. If Teffler had a friend, it was bound to be someone like that Steve who loved... what was it called... oh, yes, buggering. She didn't know if her rectum could stand another adventure like the last one.
When the elevator opened, the outer room was empty but the door to Teffler's living room was ajar and she could hear men's voices.
"Here she is now," she heard Teffler say, "You guys ready?"
"Certainly, Arthur," said a mellifluous baritone.
"Oh, Harvey. No. God, no!" said a younger voice, higher pitched, almost effeminate and very agitated.
"Now, Billy," said the soothing mellow baritone, "nothing can be as horrible as you're making this seem. Just remember what I told you."
Nan was now at the door. Hesitating only for a heartbeat, she entered.
The three of them were standing by the doorway to the hall, across the room from Nan. She stopped when she saw them. Teffler wore only his jockey shorts. A big man, who was apparently Harvey, wore an expensive Oriental bathrobe. Little Billy was fully dressed in an oddly cut suit of robin's egg blue. He was obviously a homosexual, and equally obvious was his severe fright. He gulped when she entered, his eyes were wide and he seemed to twitch as if seeking escape, but was afraid to run.
The penis in Teffler's shorts lurched when Nan entered the room. Now it was growing and would soon, she was sure, pop out of its cotton prison.
Harvey noticed it too. "Arthur!" he scolded mildly. "Must you be so gross?"
"If you'd had her like I had," replied Teffler, his prick still climbing, "yer cock'd leap, too."
Harvey looked at Nan speculatively. "I believe you're right."
Nan decided not to waste time on them. "Before you three try anything," she said to Teffler, "I'd like the key."
"Ah, right to business," said Harvey. "I admire that."
"Shuddup, you big faggot," said Teffler curtly. "You get the key," he told Nan, "after you pay for it and not until." His voice was practically a whine as though he was involved in something he didn't like, something that would not be to his own exclusive benefit.
"Now, Arthur, you let me handle this," said Harvey. He turned to Nan. "Sit down, my dear, and let me explain."
Nan, though she wasn't afraid either of Teffler or his friends, was weak-kneed. Fear, she now realized, came from the unknown. Teffler she knew, so she wasn't afraid of him... but these other two, though they weren't menacing in appearance, had something up their sleeve that Nan suspected wasn't going to be pleasant for her.
Nan sat on a couch and primly pulled her hem to her knees. She had worn a longer skirt this time. Harvey and Teffler watched her action with vulturous interest, but poor Billy shrieked and started to run for the door.
Teffler and Harvey grabbed him before he could get two steps. "Noo-o-o, Billy. You promised. Remember? It means so much to both of us."
Harvey soothed the younger homosexual and moved him over to the chair across from Nan. The boy-he couldn't have been more than eighteen-began to weep despite a tremendous effort not to.
Harvey stood next to him, a protective hand on Billy's shoulder. "You see, Miss, uh..."
"Flanders," she said.
"... Flanders, Billy is a bit of a problem to us and we thought, in exchange for the key you admire so much, that you might help us out."
Nan couldn't answer. Teffler was moving around on the periphery of her vision and she couldn't concentrate on anything but the gigantic erection which had now burst out of his shorts. It jerked and throbbed as he edged closer to her. None of the men seemed to experience any embarrassment at this turn of events. Harvey was a little annoyed as he waved Teffler away. Finally Teffler left the room.
"He is crude, isn't he?" commented Harvey.
Nan relaxed as she saw Teffler leave. "What do you want me to do?" she asked, knowing full well what it was.
"Not to bother with details," began Harvey, "I am, as Arthur has already pointed out, a homosexual. I take young boys as lovers and Billy here is my latest."
Billy whimpered forlornly and Nan thought she might throw up as she saw the boy try to snuggle up to the older queer.
"Unfortunately, there is a catch. Arthur and I have a club... an organization of pleasure seekers, if you will. To become a member, there is only one requirement... you must be bisexual."
"You mean..."
"One must be willing to... uh... unite with any other member of the club, no matter the sex of that member."
"And... uh... Billy..." Nan didn't know how to phrase it.
"William, the poor lad, has a terrible fear of women and, though I assure you he is an adept partner at any form of lovemaking, he is a virgin where women are concerned. We were hoping you'd cure him."
"But, why? Why not just let him... do what he wants?"
"Simple, my dear. He's my lover, and I don't want a lover who doesn't join me in all my activities."
Nan couldn't believe her ears. Here was this raging fag blandly telling her the details of his sex life as if he were just passing the time of day with matter-of-fact chitchat. Not only was he baring himself in his casual way, he was asking her to join in his degrading activities.
And there was Billy... Nan didn't know what to think about Billy-just the thought of undressing him filled her with loathing. Funny, she didn't imagine he would undress himself. He was too childlike, she guessed.
Nan, however, had already steeled herself for whatever was to be asked of her in Teffler's apartment. She had to get that key.
"All right," she said, "but can't we be alone?"
Billy broke into sobs when she assented. "No," he pleaded, looking up at Harvey with tears filming his eyes. "Isn't there some other way?"
"William, this fear of women has to be cleared up. It's weak," Harvey said, his voice assuming the hard tones of command. "Much as I admire your taste, it just isn't normal to be afraid of pussy, not even for... one of... us."
"Oh, God!" wailed Billy.
"None of that," said Harvey, like a stern housemother. "You've already promised that you'd try."
"All right," Billy said weakly. "I'll try-It's just that I can't stand the thought of those greasy slits."
That was one too many for Nan. She shouted at him, "Now you listen to me, you little... little flower! I don't know what you're used to, but women are no greasier than... than..." she didn't know what.
Her sudden anger did him in. "Okay," he whined. "Okay, don't get mad. Please," he sniffled.
"And wipe your nose," she demanded. "How do you expect me to get worked up over a sniveling brat?"
"Gently," said Harvey, who now drew from within his ornate robe a long leather-wrapped handle from which hung a dozen or so tough thongs. "We must be gentle with those we love, mustn't we?" His voice changed from its former mellow tones to a cold and sinister whisper.
Nan drew back as much from his voice as from the sight of the vicious-looking whip. Billy, too, had shuddered when Harvey brought out the instrument of perverted torture.
"Y-you d-don't dare touch me with th-that... that thing." Nan said, trying not to scream. She almost wished Teffler would come back into the room in the desperate hope that not even he would approve of whips.
"We only use this when necessary," Harvey said. "Some people need encouragement... and some rather enjoy a little touch of leather now and then. Isn't that so, William?"
"N-no," said the boy. "I'll do anything. Put that thing away."
"Stand up, both of you," commanded Harvey. Billy stood. He was about Nan's height, maybe an inch taller. "You both know where the bedroom is. Off you go." Billy still wiping tears from his face, shuffled into the hallway like an obedient pup.
Nan stood facing up to Harvey, who must have been six-foot-three. "What kind of an animal are you?" she hissed at him.
"Animal?" He feigned a delicate expression of shock. "I think monster is the word you wanted." He flicked the whip gently. "Move," he said almost jovially.
Harvey followed her into the hallway where they found poor miserable Billy waiting by the bedroom door. He had apparently resigned himself to the coming ordeal. He wasn't sniffling anymore, nor was he slumped dejectedly as he had been when he walked out of the living room. Harvey folded his whip and returned it to where it hung inside his robe. He put a fatherly hand on each of their heads and solemnly pronounced:
"Now, children, we enter into a new world, a world of light and joy, a world without fear."
With that he opened the door and sent them in, like a kindly old priest urging the children of his parish out to hunt Easter eggs.
"We'll give you just one half, hour to cure him, my dear. Then Arthur and I will join you to present your reward. Let me assure you that you will receive exactly what you have earned. Don't fail us." And Harvey shut the door behind them.
Billy was scared shitless and he knew it. It wasn't so much that he was afraid of women, it was just that the one time he tried with a girl, he couldn't get hard. The girl had laughed at him. And that had hurt. Billy hated people who laughed at him; he couldn't function when they laughed at him. Now the whip: if Billy didn't make it with this girl he'd get the whip. He could cry for terror because he knew he just couldn't make it, even if he wanted to.
Nan was behind him and when she tried to get around to face him he turned so as to keep his back to her. Then he heard her whisper, "Look, mister, we don't have much time. And I think that big ape with the whip means what he says. Honest, I don't like any of this. I don't like it any more than you do, but I don't want to get whipped." Billy couldn't think of an answer. Didn't she know there was nothing they could do to avoid the whip? Harvey and Art liked to whip people. They even liked to whip each other. He turned away again as he felt her trying to get in front of him.
"I'm going to undress," she said. "Why don't you watch me? Maybe it'll help get you in the mood."
Billy heard her move away from him. He could hear the rustling sounds of her taking her clothes off.
"C'mon," she whispered from behind him. "At least look at me."
Reluctantly he turned around. She was down to her slip and soon it fell to the floor and she turned to face him imploringly in her bra and bikini pants.
Her breasts were large and full, straining in twin captivity. Her hips, her thighs, her arms... her whole body was rounded, soft and designed with exquisite curves. He quickly closed his mouth, for it had fallen open as he watched her. Her flesh was milky white and seemed to be swathed in a red aura the color of her hair.
Her lovely body made a slight movement, as if on its own, a beckoning to his subverted manhood, and it amazed him to feel his prick twitch in recognition. She smiled and he couldn't help smiling back at her.
"Is-is your... uh..." he stammered.
"Say it," she urged.
"I-is your pubic hair the s-same color..." he blushed.
"Come and find out," she answered, almost coyly.
Nan had immediately sensed his need for tenderness and mothering rather than the bump and grind approach. She would use him to that purpose and then get the hell out of here. She didn't really believe that Teffler or Harvey would use the whip on her against her will.
Billy approached her hesitantly. His eyes were wide, like a child in a candy store, and he apparently didn't know which goodie to grab first. When he was close enough, she put her hands on his chest and slid them outward, pushing the coat off his thin shoulders. It fell to the floor on top of her dress. Slowly, she undid the scarf at his throat. It was a flimsy and very feminine thing which reminded her of what he was. Careful not to threaten him by moving her body too close, she unbuttoned his lace-front shirt to expose beneath it... oh, God, a white silk tee shirt. She didn't dare change the expression on her face or show any of the revulsion that was beginning to well up in her.
He stood immobile as she undressed him. Nan couldn't tell if she was having any effect. She wanted to feel his crotch for the hardness that would answer that question, but she was afraid of startling him. It would have to wait until she got to his trousers. She noted, with some satisfaction, that his breathing was heavy; the panting coming from him and the reality that he was standing up were the only guarantees she had that he was actually alive. She pulled the silk shirt out of his pants top and lifted it. Finally, he had to move. He raised his arms to help her and when the shirt was on the floor his hands came down to rest on her waist, and she felt him gently kneading the firm young flesh. His hands were cold, but she restrained her urge to reprove him. If she was lucky, she'd have him heated up in a minute, hands, feet, kneecaps, and everything.
Billy had enjoyed it so far, although afraid that at any minute she would break out laughing at him. The skin in his hands was warm and vibrant. He stopped kneading and moved his palms up her sides to the bra strap. He knew she was looking at his face, but he couldn't look back at her. He was studying the soft, warm crevice formed by her two white, firm breasts. He ran both hands along the straining strap to the hooks in the middle of her back. She waited. Suddenly, he realized he didn't know how to un-snap the thing. To gain time, he leaned his head over and rubbed his lips and nose into her sweet smelling cleavage. He heard her sigh and his half-hard penis began to thicken. A slight shudder went through her and his prick began to respond with a pounding pressure against his clothes. At last, his fingers found the combination and her bra practically jumped off her heaving chest. There they were, he thought. Two beautiful white tits with large, hard nipples so pink you'd think she was a virgin.
Billy leaned over and kissed first one nipple, then the other. His tongue felt their hardness as his hands slid across her supple, warm flesh to grasp the firm young breasts and knead them slowly as he encompassed a nipple in his lips. He had never tried this before-he had been too afraid-but now, with his prick beginning to throb in his pants and the heat of the girl's body transmitting itself to him through his own hands and tongue and lips, he felt a renewal of manhood welling up in his guts. To hell with Harvey, he thought. And to hell with Arthur, too. To hell with their whips and their painted boyfriends... and to hell with their buggering orgies.
He felt her hands groping at his crotch. He sucked harder at the nipple, pulling more and more of the resilient, spongy breast into his mouth. He felt her body stiffen with pleasure and he heard her whimper in pain when he nipped and nibbled at her erect tits.
Now his robin's egg blue, skin-tight pants dropped. His lemon-colored silk shorts followed. The pants were so tight they didn't make it to the floor but stuck about thigh high, allowing the cool air of the bedroom to wash over his genitals. His prick, never before touched by a woman's hand and never before inspired by a female's presence, jumped up as her hand cupped under his scrotum and gently massaged the two rubbery oblong balls within. His insides tingled at her touch and he moaned softly when she grasped his hot shaft with her cool hand.
Nan's pelvic muscles were writhing in passion by now. She felt them rippling inside her, making demands on her that they had no right to make. She had managed to veneer her revulsion for this little queer with a thin layer of false desire, but now real action was demanded by her agitated vagina. She clamped her fist around his throbbing prick and moved her belly against its glans, smearing the lubricant into her belly button. He moaned again, but she could tell that she was too hot for him to equal the level of her lust. He was unsure of himself. She could read that in the hesitant movement of his lips and tongue on her breasts... and in the fact that he hadn't yet reached down to remove her bright green bikini underpants.
Billy felt her fist begin slowly to move up and down his prick, pulling back the loose outer skin, then bringing it forward, tenderly jacking him off. He picked his head up off her breasts and looked at her, afraid that she, too, would be laughing at him just as all women had always done. Her deep green eyes were aflame. Her beautifully formed lips hung laxly open. She was breathing deeply and heavily... God! She was hot. She was hot-for him!
His hands dove down to her bikini pants and swished them to the floor. Crouched down, he saw the bright red hair of her crotch and the sight made a bomb of passion explode in his balls. He rammed his nose into the red hair and hungrily split open the lips of her cunt with his thrusting tongue. He realized joyfully that she had jumped when he put his tongue into her. Now he had to have her... for the first time in his life he was willing to commit rape if necessary to get his prick into a woman. He pulled his own clothes to the floor and stood up.
"Let's do it," he almost shouted.
It was none too soon for Nan. She had been ready the minute she had felt her bra fly from her chest. The juices in her cunt were like boiling oil, her genital muscles were clamping shut on thin air and complaining painfully in waves of hollow aching impulses racing throughout her body.
She grabbed his prick again and, using it like a leash, pulled him to the bed. It was strangely shaped, longer than others she had seen, but thinner, somehow. She suppressed a giggle when it occurred to her that it was just the right length and circumference for buggering queers. He wasn't going to bugger her, however. Her pussy was stretching, yawning, flexing in its terrible emptiness. She had to have him now and she didn't care what he was.
"She's got him," said Teffler in another room. He was working with a movie camera behind a double mirror unknown to either Nan or Billy. Harvey, watching the scene from behind Teffler, fingered his whip handle and balanced his mental reaction between disappointment and joy. It was disappointing that she had succeeded because now he wouldn't be able to use the whip on her... whipping women was the most satisfactory experience he knew. The sound of their screams gave him an erection every time... and when he saw them start to bleed from the welts he gave them he would cum.
"Too bad," he said, as Billy's prick entered Nan's gleaming red slit-they could see everything perfectly-"I was really going to give it to that little slut. I wanted to see if her hair was really red."
"You an' yer fuckin' whip," said Teffler. "Just lemme get them on film... then she'll do anything for us... she'll have to."
Nan pulled Billy over her into fucking position. Her hips ground against the bed in a circular motion anticipating his entry. As he set himself on top of her, putting his weight on his knees and elbows, she reached down between her uplifted legs to grip his jerking, pulsating shaft and guide him in. She wedged his rubbery cock-head into her slippery pussy lips, parting the red cunt hair with her own fingers. Looking down between their bodies, she saw her uplifted cunt opening for him as his thin penis passed the lips and began sliding easily into her love cave.
"I can't," she heard him whisper. "I just can't do it with a woman."
"You can't stop now," she almost screamed. "You're harder than I've ever seen a man before. Put it in me... please. Don't tease."
His eyes were tightly closed when she looked up at him. She studied his childlike face momentarily and realized he would never complete the sex act with her on his own volition despite the iron-hard prick she could feel like a hot metal bar between her ravenous cuntlips.
"I'll help you," she whispered and, digging her heels into his bony buttocks, she impaled herself on him with one tremendous lunge.
"Oooooohhhh!" she cried when his overlong prick drove itself up into a part of her never before entered.
"Aaaaaaaagghh!" he cried when his prick hit bottom and then drove even further.
She could feel control coming back to her almost as soon as his hot rod had driven its deep path within her.
Her vaginal muscles grabbed at their attacker and held him, sucking like a mouth of frenzy. Nan's hips increased their grinding motion and Billy, his eyes still shut, began to groan as if in pain.
"Work it," she ordered him. "In and out, in and out. Out to the head, and all the way in... oh, God, work it, baby."
Slowly he pulled it out, bracing himself on his knees and setting up a new balance with his elbows. It withdrew from her until his purple-red glans touched her extended clitoris. She yelped at that contact, almost frightening him out of her all the way.
"Drive home, baby. Fuck me... give me all you got." She squirmed and writhed beneath him, almost driven insane by his lack of action.
"You dirty whore!" he screamed and then piledrived it to the hilt, withdrew and drove it in again, jerking spastic cries of delicious pain from her.
"You whore! You slut! You greasy cunt!" he screamed as he rammed his prick in and out of her. "You dirty bitch!"
He might as well have been whispering endearments to Nan for she was lost in the concentration of love. She maintained the vaginal pressure on him, trying with all her might to hold him inside her as he pulled his prick out, sucking his cock with her talented pussy... then releasing to receive him again with each mighty thrust and, once he was seated eight inches into her, grabbing in another death grip and sucking the juices out of his prick's slit into her insatiable womb.
"My God, you're good," she hissed through clenched teeth. "You're a helluva man and didn't even know it. Keep it up. Fuck me. Keep fucking me, don't ever cum... Just fuck, fuck, fuck!"
"Oh, Jesus, you're sweet," he said as he felt his revulsion for women melting within him. His balls were tightening in the wrinkled bag now pounding incessantly against the tight little pink "O" of her anus. "You're pulling the prick right off my body."
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm!" she answered.
One thing Billy could never do was kiss a woman on the lips. Now he wanted to... it would be the next to last step in his walk to masculinity. He looked at her face beneath his. She was writhing under his repeated, thrusts and her face was a study in passion... deep green eyes staring holes through him, nostrils flared, mouth open and tongue darting out at him, trying to reach his mouth.
He fucked her as deeply as he could, attempting with each desperate lunge to go as far as possible. Their crotches slammed together with a resounding thwack each time she rose to meet his digging prick.
Billy was going to kiss those lustfully working lips, he was going to swallow that darting tongue... if only... if only he would cum. His balls tickled inside his scrotum... tickled and tingled, twitched and convulsed. He could feel the prostate gland, buried deep in his rectum, begin to glow in anticipation of what was about to happen.
"I'm almost ready to make it."
"Not yet," she pleaded. "Hold it just a little longer, baby."
"I-I don't think I can."
"Oh, please, darling. Puhleeeeze hold it a tiny second. Keep fucking it into me just a little longer."
Nan had begun to feel the churning in her crotch, the tingling up and down her spine. Her cunt muscles were on their own now, grasped, sucking and releasing his diving, thrusting, burrowing prick... even her asshole, excited by the slapping scrotum, was contracting and expanding with quick repeated jolts of pleasure as his piledriving motion mounted to orgasm.
"Now," she said. The ocean of lust within her had compressed itself and was ready to explode. It felt gigantic. It would spew like it never had. She would wash him with it... his prick, his balls, his thighs would soon be wet with her cum... the way it felt now, even his ankles would catch some of her tidal gushing.
"Yes," he answered. "Yess, yesss, yy-yeeeeeesssss!"
His scrotum contracted and his balls spurted, jerked and spurted again.
"This is it," he screamed. "This is iiiiiiiiitt."
"Aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeee!" she shouted joyfully. "I'm cummming. Iiiiiiii'mmmmmmm cccccuuuummmmmmiiiinnnnngggg!"
She felt his orgasm dance within her, meeting hers as they spewed together in perfect fucking harmony, perfect spastic, jerking, throbbing, gushing, spurting, shooting, exploding, crying, weeping mutual bursting of genitalia.
"My God!" exclaimed Teffler from the next room. "Look at her flail her legs. Look at him drive it home. My God! They made it. Look at 'em drive their goddam bodies together!"
He had been watching them as he ran the camera, his own prick standing out and prancing around before him. He was naked, having discarded his shorts at the insistence of his erection, and, without knowing it, he had cum, too, was still cumming, in fact. White globules of his cum spattered the floor at his feet and his still-hard prick shot more as he watched the pair on the bed.
"I've got to have her again," he said, shutting off the camera.
Too late. Harvey, too, had been watching. Now his robe was on the floor and a massive cock stood out before him as he gazed intently at the hairy globes of Teffler's ass.
"Why take her when you've got me?" whispered Harvey, raising the many-thonged whip.
Teffler yelped when the first of Harvey's swings slashed into his shoulder. He yelped again when the second bit into his side. The third raised welts in his ass and Teffler fell to his knees, whimpering in pain and defeat. He knew what was coming.
"Hold still," commanded Harvey, "and raise your hind end. Hold still, damn you, or I'll flay the skin right off your useless body."
Prick in one hand, whip in the other, Harvey kneeled and prepared to part the trembling cheeks of his victim's ass....
CHAPTER EIGHT
Nan lay back exhausted and Billy fell across her, his softening penis still embedded in her. Suffused in the pleasure they had given each other, they lay panting as their bodies began to relax.
Then Teffler's scream pierced the bedroom's silence. Nan felt Billy's body stiffen, then his weight disappeared and she opened her eyes. He was excitedly scrabbling around for his clothes.
"They're whipping each other," he told her in a whispered scream. "Let's get out of here or we're next."
She was up in a trice, almost yelping in the fear of that awful-looking whip.
"Just grab your clothes," he said. "We can lock the elevator and dress in there."
They ran for the living room, the tortured screams of Art Teffler chasing them down the hall.
Nan almost smiled. Finally, that mean-minded Teffler was getting what he deserved, she thought. Abruptly she stopped. "The key!" she shouted. "I've got to get the key."
The screaming stopped. Oh, God, they've heard me, Nan realized with terror. She and Billy were in the outer room approaching the elevator door.
Billy had stopped when she shouted. They stood there looking at each other, naked and scared out of their wits.
Billy dropped his bundle of clothes and pointed to the door they had just come through. "Close it," he ordered. As she complied, he rushed to one of the room's heavy couches and pushed it across the carpetless tiles to block the door.
"See that cabinet," he said.
Frenziedly she looked to where he was pointing. There was noise of heavy footsteps running in another part of the house. A long, wide, shallow cabinet hung on the far wall. Its wooden doors were enameled decorously, but a crack down the middle and the tiny padlock told its use.
"All his keys are in there," said Billy. "You've got to break the lock."
Harvey and Teffler were now at the door, pounding to get in. Nan found a weighted metal ash tray and went to work on the tiny lock. It broke and fell away at the third blow. The doors swung wide, exposing at least fifty keys strung to tabs of cardboard with addresses written on them. The tabs hung from tiny hooks.
"Lower right hand corner," shouted Billy.
One of the tabs at the indicated position read "Mae."
"I've got it," said Nan. "So it was right out here all the time. God! How I wish I'd known that."
"Get our clothes into the elevator and hold the door for me," shouted Billy, now struggling mightily to keep the two torturers out of the anteroom.
"Billy, you scrawny little fag sunavabitch!"
It was Teffler. "I'll kill you when I get my hands on you."
"Now see what you've done," wailed Harvey. "He's gone... gone with a dirty female bitch... and it's your fault... he's the only one I ever loved and you scared him away. Take that!"
A swish and a smack from the whip and a hideous screech of pain from Teffler ended their attempts to get through the door. Billy almost laughed out loud as he shut the elevator behind them.
"When Harvey starts with the whip, he hates to stop. They'll be busy for hours now. We're safe."
"Funny," said Nan. "I can't hear them any more."
"The whole place is soundproof."
He stopped the car halfway down and turned to her. "Before we get dressed," he said, his old shy manner coming back. "I promised myself that you'd be the first girl I'd kiss. Do you mind?"
Their naked bodies pressed together gently and they ended the evening's lovemaking with a long, busy kiss.
Billy didn't have a car so Nan dropped him off. He kissed her lightly, before he left, and said good-bye. He was leaving town. He simply didn't have the courage to hang around New Toronto until Teffler and Harvey decided to get even with him for helping Nan.
"Teffler never intended to give you the key," he said. "But don't worry about him. I've got enough on him to put him away for 500 years. He won't bother you anymore."
He turned to go, then stopped and turned back slowly, drawing something from his coat pocket. "Do me a favor, will you?"
"Of course. What?"
"Get rid of these things for me?" He held out the silk underwear he had been wearing.
Nan smiled. "Sure I will... and good luck."
They had parked at an old-fashioned motel with individual units facing each other across a small court. She watched him as he strolled homeward between the bungalows.
Friday was a busy day at the Gazette. Reporters had to wrap up their week's work with numerous telephone calls and short interviews in preparation for the big weekend paper. Rewrite duty was doubled on everyone and, generally the staff put out three times as much work on Friday as it did all the other days of the week. A great deal of copy had to be piled up because only skeleton crews worked Saturday and Sunday.
Nan was busy writing all day, mostly boring stuff about service clubs and Boy Scouts, social gatherings and church events. There was a special hell for newsmen, Mr. Lopez had always said-it was a half world of dandy club news and dingy social happenings which have to be written up over and over again. If there was a better way to dull your mind, Nan couldn't imagine it.
But, all day, through the back of Nan's mind ran images of the Jetty mansion. Her curiosity about the place and what she would find there practically drove her crazy as she hacked through the day's dull routine. Finally, late in the afternoon, Nan dropped everything else and wrote a really good feature on Mae's life and philanthropies. None of her suspicions about Mae's wild sex life were included in the story. It was written so that it could be added to, however, and Nan would find out tonight at the mansion what to add.
The usual heavy rush-hour traffic hindered Nan that afternoon as she drove home. A couple of times she thought she caught a glimpse of Aaron Stemfelder's sports car with its egg yolk paint job and phony spoked hub caps. She couldn't be sure it was him, however. There were a lot of sports cars around-but she couldn't be too careful. Stemfelder was famous for his persistence on the trail of a salacious story.
Just in case Stemfelder was still following her, she took a roundabout route to the Jetty mansion that night, finally arriving there about 8 o'clock. A huge circular drive cut into the darkened forest surrounding the old house. She followed it up to a wide, gracious wooden front porch, now unpainted for many years. She parked, turned off her lights, and waited. No light broke the darkness, no motor interrupted the silence. Apparently she was home free.
The old porch creaked under her weight. Huge patches of bare wall and great chips of loose paint showed in the glare of her flashlight. If only this is the right key, she thought, I've got it made. She held her breath as she slid the key into the ancient doorlock, then sighed in relief as the key turned and the door opened inward on well-oiled hinges.
Inside was darkness. She shined her light in and exposed covered furniture making odd-shaped lumps around the living room. Dust was everywhere, especially in the folds and valleys of the canvas dropcloths protecting the furniture. It was piled up inches deep in some places. And yet, the place didn't have the musty unlived-in odor to it Nan had expected. And the door had been well oiled! Someone had been using the place all along. Teffler, she'd bet... but, what for?
Nan would worry about that later. For now she had to find evidence. But, where? Mary Lipsher had said something about an upper room... pictures, movies, and notebooks in an upper room. She cast her light about for a staircase and walked through the living room. A huge formal dining room was next, separated from the living room by a wide portal. Many doors led off the spacious chamber... apparently it was the central room of the house. She tried the doors until she found one that gave onto a small hallway ending in stairs.
"This is it," she whispered to herself.
The stairway was narrow and twisting. It led all the way up to the third floor of the house without any intermediate lands. Right to the points, she thought.
The noise of a passing car made her pause. It went by and she continued her careful tread up the squeaking steps. At the top there was a small landing and a single door. She ran her light over it. The knob was shiny with use. She grabbed it and opened the door. Stepping in, she found a light switch at her left and tried it. It worked. So the place is in constant use, she thought.
The room was bigger than she had suspected it would be. The furnishings of the room answered all her questions about the house's constant use. A huge tousled bed rested squarely in the center of the floor. Ranged around it were photographer's lamps and several cameras on tripods, one of them a moving picture camera. So this is how Teffler makes his money-dirty pictures. She was almost amused.
She looked around the rest of the room and noticed the walls were nothing but bookcases, occasionally interrupted by locked cabinets and drawers. The books took her interest and she gazed at them inquiringly until she recognized them... they were not books, they were photo albums... hundreds upon hundreds of photo albums.
A bookcase was at her right hand. She took out an album and it fell open in her hand. The picture that leaped up at her was a young girl, stark naked and bending over to touch her toes so that a gigantic dog could mount her. The camera had been situated so that Nan could see the glistening animal prong half buried in the hair-covered pussy of his human partner. The girl had her head turned to face the camera and she was smiling vacuously. That album contained nothing but pictures of girls and large dogs.
Each of the other albums followed a grisly theme of its own. One whole shelf was dedicated to one woman taking care of two men: she could swear one of the men was a younger Paul Hanley and she strongly suspected the woman was Mae Gail Jetty. But this wasn't proof. The pictures were so old Hanley would have no trouble denying he was a subject.
There was no writing in any of the albums, nor were any of them dated. They could be anywhere from ten to thirty years old and, Nan was willing to bet, a lot of respectable citizens of New Toronto had posed for some of these atrocities in their younger days. Maybe Teffler was dealing in blackmail... no, Nan decided against that: there were too many things for which he could be blackmailed in return. There was no profit in it and, as Teffler liked to point out, he was a businessman, dedicated to the making of profit.
Obviously, the albums were all the same. There was no sense in going through them until these locked cabinets and drawers had been investigated.
One of the small padlocks had a key in it and on that key was a ring with a dozen or so other little keys. A gold mine! she decided, and opened the cabinet. "Oh!" she stood back in shock. There was nothing in the cabinet except an ornate picture frame containing a full color picture, about half life-size, of Art Teffler at about the age of nine or ten standing at attention with half of his proud little erection in the mouth of a young woman who could be none other than Mae Gail Jetty. She had been a beautiful, full-bodied woman... She was facing the camera, Teffler's little penis in her mouth almost sideways so Mae could lift up her full, ripe young breasts to the lens' rapt gaze. She was sitting with her legs spread to allow a gleaming slit to wink out from its silken forest.
Nan couldn't take her eyes off the picture... the pink-fleshed woman, magnificently rounded and mature, contrasted with the skinny little boy with his hairless, tightly wrinkled scrotum, his sunken belly, his bony ribs and shoulders and the impish leer planted on his face. It was horrible. Nan shut the cabinet and locked it quickly.
She realized she was out of breath. She had been panting. Her breasts had grown hard as she studied that sensuous woman's mouth encompassing that absurdly tiny penis. She felt a tingling between her thighs and cursed it for being there without her willing it. Her week with this crowd had made her as dirty-minded and lascivious as they were. Imagine that awful woman introducing such a young boy to that kind of degrading activity. It was inhuman. It was...
A creaking noise interrupted her train of thought. Someone was on the stairs.
Nan was frantic. Conflicting emotions were raging in her. Passion flowed in waves made greater by lustful desire, only to batter themselves painfully against rocks of disgust. No one must find her like this. Her breasts were throbbing as she sat on the bed to catch her breath. Her vaginal muscles flexed with the memory of the past few days. She couldn't seem to calm herself.
Then the light went out.
Her flashlight! Where the hell had she put her flashlight? She scrambled around on the bed and the floor beneath it before she remembered she had put her flashlight on the bookcase by the door.
"Looking for this?" an unfamiliar man's voice said. Her flashlight flicked on and shone in her eyes.
"D-don't," she said. "It hurts my eyes."
The man chuckled and the room lights came on. She looked up and Aaron Stemfelder dropped his hand from the wall switch, put his bony fists on his hips and stared at her.
"I've often heard about this room," he said. "It more than lives up to its advance billing."
"What d-do you want?"
"That depends."
Nan's insides were making lustful twitches. She could hardly keep herself from ripping open the cabinet to show Stemfelder what the grinning little boy was doing with his penis. That would get Stemfelder's mind going in the right direction. Nan's body had already begun to take her over. She couldn't help smiling sensuously when she asked, "Depends on what?"
Stemfelder looked at her anew. From an opposition reporter out of whom he had to squeeze a story, she now became a sexy young girl who fairly squirmed with lecherous anticipation. The dog album had fallen open on the floor and soon Stemfelder's glance fell on it.
"Ah," he said. "All these albums..." he swept an arm to indicate the room.
"Y-yes. All of them." Nan was torn between the two desires of escape and lust. All he had to do was say a word...
I've never seen a woman so hot with her clothes on, thought Stemfelder. Looks to me like the right approach to her will open more than her notebook.
He walked over and unlocked the cabinet. "What had you so entranced?" he asked. He opened the doors.
"My God!" he said appreciatively. "We've got quite a story if those two are who I think they are.
"I've got a story, you mean. I found this place."
"Then what do I have?"
"How about me?"
The tone of her voice told him she wasn't kidding. Kidding, hell, she was panting. The pictures in this room really got to her. He wondered how long she had been browsing through Art Teffler's private erotica.
"You're not bad," he commented with overdone casualness. Trying to appear uninterested, he stepped over to her and began to unbutton her blouse. The sight of her pink rounded flesh reacted in his crotch. He felt it hardening but retained the slow, idle pace of his hands as they moved down her blouse.
He was standing only inches from her now and she could see, or did she sense, the movement in his pants. She laid her open hand against his crotch to feel his rod expanding and throbbing. He twitched involuntarily at her touch.
"There's a dance going on in there," she giggled, "and I think I know the music."
"I'm willing to bet you wrote the score." He pulled her blouse open, exposing a white bra bulging with pink flesh. He cupped his hands over them and kneaded gently.
"Mmmmmmm," she sighed. "Nice, aren't they?"
Stemfelder's head began to boil with hot confusion. If this little bitch thinks she's going to screw me out of a story, he told himself, she's wrong. I'll fuck her all night and still get the goods on old Mae Jetty.
Nan continued to rub the lengthening tube in his trousers, wondering how big it would get before it stopped growing. Suddenly she had to see it.
"Take off your clothes," she demanded.
"That's usually the man's line," he rejoined.
She jumped away from him. "Take 'em off," she insisted. "I want to watch."
They looked at each other a minute, measuring the heat in each other's eyes. Then he smiled almost ruefully. She was beautiful. He was going to have her now no matter what it cost him.
"I'll take off anything you will," he said, taking up the childish dare of her tone.
She wiggled out of her blouse while this avid eyes devoured every movement. He dropped his coat and removed his tie.
"We're even," he chided her.
"Now you go first," she pouted playfully.
Quickly, he unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it off.
"You're skinny," she said, looking at the spare flesh of his chest stretched tightly over his rib cage.
"You're not," he replied. "Let's have the bra."
She reached back, unsnapped it and handed it to him. He was bug-eyed when he saw her large, full tits bouncing before him, their dark pink nipples obviously hard as diamonds.
She kicked off her shoes and stood up on the bed. He bent to remove his shoes and socks while she reached under her skirt and rolled down her pantyhose, slowly, luxuriously. He watched hungrily as she unzipped her skirt and dropped it down her perfect legs. Tremblingly he reached for his belt buckle, his wide eyes staring at the blue bikini pants that were now the only thing between the best part of each of them.
"Let me," she said in a heated whisper. She fell to her knees, causing the mattress to shake, and reached for the front of his trousers. Stemfelder placed a palm on either side of her head and held his breath while her fingers worked clumsily at his belt and zipper. In a second cool air washed his ass and a warm hand cupped under his balls. He felt his wildly pulsating prick jump free and slap her wetly on the face when his shorts fell.
Remembering Teffler, she jumped away from him and, standing on her knees, viewed his spare frame, giving special attention to the twitching, jerking, blood-filled purple head of his passion-flamed prick. The slit in its end glistened with lubricant, its shaft was entwined under its outer skin with thick ridges and bulging blue veins.
"In me," she panted. "Get it in me."
She pulled down her bikini pants with an urgency she had never felt before. He leaped onto the bed before she could lie down and, grabbing her hips in surprisingly strong hands and knees.
"Didn't you see the dog album?" he grunted. "That's how I like it-backward."
"But..."
"None of that, Red. No complaints." He pushed her face into a pillow and shut her up, then with both hands he massaged her hind cheeks, rubbing slowly up and down the milk-white orbs, spreading them to see the rubbery ring of her asshole contract, closing them tightly to squeeze the juice from her already flowing cunt. The bright red hairs parted to show pink lips, opening and closing as he massaged the cheeks of her ass around and around.
"I've been wondering all week if you were a real redhead," he sneered. "Until now, you could've fooled me."
"Put it in me," she hissed. "And don't get the wrong hole."
"Dirty-mouthed little bitch, aren't you?"
"Hurry, please."
Have I ever got you good now, you little bitch, Stemfelder was thinking. First I muscle into your cunt, then I muscle in on your story... the wire services will pay through the ass for some dirt on Mae Gail Jetty. And the magazines... with all the pictures in this place... The blackmail alone could make ten Stemfelders rich.
He placed the very tip of his glans against her hot, wet pussy lips, slid it up and down, delighting to feel her whole body shudder as he teased her. Up and down, he slid the head of his prick, slipping it deeper into the pink folds of flesh only a silly millimeter at a time. He could see her tortured cuntlips opening to gulp him down but one of his hands held her by the buttocks helping him remain master of the situation. A little deeper and he could feel the cunt walls open for him and then clamp down.
"Great sucking demons!" he exclaimed. "There's enough action in there to start an earthquake."
Nan was moaning and mewling now in tantalized anticipation. Why didn't he jam it in and get started? Fun and game time is over... it's time to got to work. She tried to push herself back on him, but his big bony hand held her by the ass and wouldn't let her move. She hated this position. She couldn't see what was going on. She adjusted her head to look back under her own body. Her breasts, hard as they were, hung down so that her nipples were a good five inches from her chest, her belly was pumping in and out with the passion of waiting for him to act, and she could see his balls with their black hair covering hanging beneath her red pussymat.
She spread her smooth white legs a bit more to get a better view of his sinewy, hairy ones and her movement caused his penis to fall out of her. She saw it only for an instant as it swooped down, long and thick, throbbing with lust, then it jumped back up to duty.
"Uuummmmmmmmpppppphhhhh!" she said as he shoved it in about a quarter of the way. "Oooooooohhhhhh!" she moaned approvingly as he pushed another few inches, forcing her tight cuntwalls apart deliciously. "Aaagghhh!" she screamed when he came up on his toes and rammed it all the way home, sloughing its way through fold after fleshy fold until it came crashing to base like a flailing jet plane, at a point so far into her it felt like the pit of her stomach.
"How's that?" he asked. He had intended to push her off balance but she had fooled him. She was firmly planted on knees and elbows, her beautiful buttocks rubbing back and forth on his bristly belly, her cheek clenching and unclenching to heighten the pleasure of his entry and pull him even more deeply into her wriggling womb.
He paused again and began to flex his big prick where it sat. The huge spear on which she was impaled now began to expand and diminish rhythmically and she uttered a soft "Ooomph!" with each quick swelling.
Now he pulled it out maliciously slow, delighting to hear her long, drawn-out "Oooooo!" as he did. In again, he pushed it with sadistic deliberation and heard her utter, "Aaaaaaa!"'
But Aaron Stemfelder's groin was about to explode. A universe of fire was building up in his balls and he could resist it no longer. Gripping her hips with his powerful hands he plunged home again, quickly withdrew all the way to the glans and drove into her again. He pulled his knees up between her plump thighs for better traction and continued his fast-paced piledriving while Nan cried out in joy and rotated her ass to help his lunging cock find more and more area inside her to agitate with its unending motion.
The tingling that had started between her thighs when she first saw the picture in the cabinet had developed into a swishing feeling, then a gurgle, then a rumble, until now her insides were roaring like a thunderous sky. Her spine was enveloped in an electrical storm that sent sparks out even to her fingertips and toes. She could even feel her hair standing on end.
She heard herself grunting like an animal and, as if some far off part of her mind were coolly watching the scene, she was mildly disturbed that a nice girl like her had gotten talked into a position like this. But that was only a small part of her being; the rest of her was groveling in hedonistic filth and loving it. Dog style, eating it, standing up, balancing on the bridge of her nose, or fucking on the dead run... nothing was too horrible for her to try now. She loved it and couldn't help herself even if she wanted to. Even the muscle control she had so recently gained in her womb was gone and her vagina grabbed each new attack with a bellow of pure pig-in-shit joy as it sucked dry the stem of Stemfelder, trying with all its might to pull the balls right out of him. Nan experienced a new release deep within her as all restraint, all self-control, all self-denial, shame, guilt, confusion, modesty-everything went sliding slimily right down the Fallopian tubes to be expended as extra energy in the only thing that mattered: a grunting, sweating, squirming, squealing, digging, scratching, roistering, cum-ming, squirting, twitching session of vaulting the crossbar on the old skin pie.
Both of them were grunting now and Stemfelder's big scrotum swung in a giant arc as she watched it from between her own tits. Suddenly his balls tightened up.
"This is it!" he yelled in absolute abandon.
All her sensations converged on her cunt as he spoke and she knew it was time... her explosion was about to take place and she doubted that a thing in the room would be dry after she was through spewing.
"Oooooohhhhhh, God!" answered Nan, though her voice was muffled by the pillow into which she had buried her face.
"Aaahhh! Iii'mm CCUUMMMIINNGG!" she announced into the uncaring feather recesses of the somewhat stained pillow.
A blinding flash interrupted them even before they could come out of position. Another one filled the room as they tried to unentwine their bodies and catch their breaths. Then another.
Nan was so choked with passion she couldn't talk but she heard Stemfelder recover himself enough to angrily demand, "Who the hell are you?"
Another blinding flashbulb answered him.
"God damn you! Cut it out!" shouted Stemfelder, trying to scrape up his clothes.
Nan didn't care what was happening. She was still gushing and still had her white-gloved ass in the air, grinding it around and around in sexual passion as if Stemfelder's big dick were still in her.
Finally through cumming, she collapsed and, like the creature she had now become, began to wonder where her next piece was coming from.
"Get dressed, Stemfelder, and get out of here," a voice said.
"All right, all right," said Stemfelder. "Just give me a minute."
Nan's sexual haze cleared now and, turning on her back, leaning on her elbows, her legs still pleasure-splayed, she looked at the doorway and saw Billy. He held a camera in one hand and a small pistol in the other.
"Billy!" she said, "W-what are you doing?"
"Helping you get your story," said Billy. "This bastard would have screwed you and still stolen the story from you."
Stemfelder said nothing. He just kept pulling on his clothes, obviously in dire fear of the gun in Billy's hand.
"Isn't that the truth, Aaron!" Billy asked, leveling the gun at Stemfelder's belly.
"P-put the g-gun away and we'll t-talk it over, kid," stuttered Stemfelder.
Nan slowly became aware that she was not only naked but lying on a bed between two men, her body spread out as if on display. She pulled a blanket up over her.
Billy moved out of the doorway to stay out of Stemfelder's reach as the bigger man left the room.
"I'll be listening for your car," Billy told him, "so don't try anything."
"Fuck you," was Stemfelder's parting shot.
They waited until, off in the distance, they heard a car start up and drive away.
"That takes care of him," said Billy, "And you don't have to worry about Teffler and Harvey. Neither one of them could stand any publicity about their private lives."
"Thanks you, Billy, but I just don't understand."
"Read this," he said and handed her an envelope from his coat pocket.
It was a letter from a Korean orphanage to Mae Gail Jetty, dated two years ago, which read:
"Dear Mrs. Jetty,
"The children have asked me to write their tanks for the presents you brought on your last visit. The warm clothes have been very useful during the terrible winter months. Also, as you advised, we have enlarged the dispensary and, with the money you donated, have hired a full-time doctor."
The letter went on for several pages describing the operation of the orphanage with which Mrs. Jetty must have been intimately involved.
Nan looked up at Billy. "I don't get it."
"I've got Teffler's car outside," he said. "There are boxes and boxes of letters like this from all over the world. I was afraid when you saw this room, you might write an Aaron Stemfelder type expose on Mrs. Jetty."
"I have to admit, I was tempted to expose her when I saw the picture of her and Art Teffler."
"That's just what I was afraid of. But now..."
"Now I can use the letters in the story and no one has to know about all this," she said. She threw off the covers and reached for her clothes. He watched her with unabashed admiration, his shyness with women was quickly disappearing.
Then she remembered what he had said last night. "I thought you were leaving town," she said with a knowing smile as he watched her dress. "Why hang around here just to help me?"
"You helped me," he said simply.
"Well, now you can help me. We've got to organize the letters tonight so I can finish the Jetty story..." she paused limply, thinking of the long night ahead of them... "and you're going to have to do most of the work. I've had a helluva tough week."
"That's all right with me," said Billy. "But first..."
Billy had watched Nan as she threw off the covers, exposing her rosy nakedness, her full, bobbing breasts, her rounded buttocks, the double crease at her groin pointed at the bright red hair between her legs... those beautiful legs that he'd just last night been tightly wrapped around him, squeezing him into her hungry, sucking cunt.
Nan had leaned over to pick her clothes up off the floor by the bed. Suddenly Billy was directly in front of her, standing on her panties just as she was about to grab them. She stared at his black shoes and the pantlegs of the Levi's he had worn that night. Before she could look up or say anything the Levi's fell to the floor, followed closely by a new pair of men's boxer shorts.
"It's time for my second lesson," he said, a strange sadistic tone taking over his voice.
She looked up and found herself staring into the muzzle of the tiny, nickel-plated pistol as well as into the gaping slit of his erect and dancing prick. Its head was deep purple and, as she watched it, a bead of filmy moisture formed in its one baleful eye. Billy's face wore an expression that wanted to be threatening, but only struck her as funny... he seemed desperately frightened.
Her first urge was to giggle. She suppressed it, probably saving her life, and asked him, "Which one of those are you going to use?"
"Which one do you think?"
Instead of answering, she leaned toward his passionately leaping penis and licked off the newly formed bead of lubricant, savoring its taste of salted musk.
"Two-gun Billy," she smiled. Dropping to her knees, she cupped one hand under his satiny scrotum and with the other grasped his lengthening prick at its hairy base. Making an oval of her mouth she slid her head over the fleshy impalement and sucked gently, swabbing the rubbery glans with a busy tongue. Sucking hard, she tightened the grip of her lips and slowly pulled her head back until the cock ejected with a loud, wet pop.
Billy almost leaped in shock and pleasure. He had felt the vacuum pressure she had brought to bear... he had felt it deep within him, so deep that his balls had twitched and his bowels felt a tugging sensation. "Oooooohhhh!" he moaned. "How the hell do you do that?"
"Natural talent," she explained, licking her lips. "Put your other gun away and let's lay down," she said. "The bed is quite comfortable. It's quality tested, in fact."
The sight of his dancing prick had turned things on inside her. She could feel a comforting warmth wash through her, as if the mere sight of a penis and a set of balls were enough to make her feel right at home in any situation, as if the presence of male genitalia provided her with a kind of emotional scepter, the privilege of command, complete control.
Ever since that first day at Hanley's-had it only been Monday, it seemed years ago-she realized that she loved sex even as she hated being forced to perform. But, now, she was beginning to understand that sex was her natural environment, that nudity was her natural costume, that flesh was her world and she was a queen empowered to hold court while all her blood-filled guards stood at strict attention.
She felt the moisture forming on the walls of her cunt as she lay back and spread her legs, exposing her ruby-lipped pussy to the skinny, bug-eyed boy beside her. He fairly ripped his coat and shirt away and leaped at it, tongue first.
She cooed as his oral member slithered into her cunt. Her clitoris emerged, pink and ready and he laved it like a cat voraciously licking at a spilled drop of cream. As if starving, he lapped, sucked, and nibbled until she thought she'd scream in lust-filled, pagan abandon.
"I-I had the idea you'd n-never done this before," she gasped, full of wonder at his expertise.
He nipped her bud again, then slurped his tongue deeply into her cunt before he looked up, grinned, and said, "Natural talent."
Then he dove back to work again. The tip of his tongue parted the red pussy hair, darting up and down and around the cuntlips, then slipping between the lips, exposing pink folds of flesh. The sensation of his tongue and of his hot breath on her vulval lips sent a crawling delight throughout her body. Her flesh rippled. He ran his long, pointed tongue up one lip from just inside it all the way to the top, then down just inside the other lip, sending a tingling through her when his tongue reached the rear of that delicious opening.
Billy wanted into her. He wanted his tongue, lips, nose, his whole face to dive right into her gaping cunt. Using his thumbs, he opened the lips wider, running his tongue deeper into the pink velvety, flowing cunt. Her juices oozed onto his oral member from every direction, their flavor and odor shooting flames of passion through him. His balls seemed to itch from inside, his lengthy cock pulsed and throbbed as it hung from his crotch in this hand-and-knees position.
He didn't know he would like eating it this much. He had, in fact, been almost certain it would disgust him to do what he was doing now. He had been fooling himself all these months;-he hadn't been afraid of women at all, or disgusted by his own weakness, hating his own failure to take part in normal sex.
Now he laved at her cunt, driving his tongue deeper and deeper as Nan moaned from somewhere above him. The only trouble was he couldn't get his tongue in deep enough. His hands were clutching her beautiful, round buttocks. He moved them up her thighs, pushing her legs up and back until Nan took hold of them herself and pulled her knees to her own body, pressing her breasts flat, presenting him with a wide-open, pulsing, pink pussy. She worked her muscles and he felt their effect as he plunged his tongue deeply into her vagina, the lips of his mouth pressed against the hair-covered lips of her cunt. He sucked at it as hard as he could and her body quivered with happy spasms of sexual recognition.
Then-my God!-her cunt, from deep within its dark, comforting recesses, sucked him back, actually pulling at his slithering tongue, trying to bring him down to the ultimate ocean that lay dark and untended down, down into the cavern of her being. He would drown in those warm, slimy waters, and gladly.
Nan wasn't even aware that her cuntal walls were closing on him, she wasn't aware that her love muscles, wherever they were in her pelvis, were grabbing him and sucking at him. The sensation she was feeling was a cumulative one... coming possibly from tonight with Aaron Stemfelder, or from all this week, starting with Hanley and the detestable Art Teffler. She didn't know what it came from or how or why-and she didn't care. What she felt was the total effect of all the relevant muscles working at once, all the relevant juices flowing at the same time, all heading in the same direction. She felt not one sensation but hundreds, and her present partner was only one small twig in a forest of life sprouting up around her since Monday.
Billy's prick throbbed screamingly. It wanted the action it was built for; it cried out for proper employment. She sighed as his tongue left her hot, grasping pussy. A terrible vacancy was left by his sudden defection from duty, but soon it was replaced, as Billy eased her legs down and then around his waist, by the hard, rubbery, blood-filled, purple glans.
Look, man, no hands, he thought, as he pushed his hips slowly forward and the slippery prick-head edged wetly between the widely palpitating lips of her cunt. Gratefully, it slid in, almost speaking its relief through its one slit of a mouth.
A shudder of wanton delight surged through Nan's raw, nerve-tingling body as Billy's long-deprived manroot reached its first inch of penetration. Her breasts heaved and the nipples jiggled against the pressure of his boylike body as the bed shook under his efforts to assume a favorable fucking position.
Then he drove it home and Nan yelped to feel his lengthy gristle tear into her, diving in one long descent until their pelvises slapped together noisily. He withdrew all the way to the tip of his vein-wound piledriver, then drove in again. She squirmed up to meet him, sheathing him like a greased glove. Their bodies slapped together again and again and again... she would never get enough of it. The feel of it, the smell of it, the sound of it filled her with ecstasy.
"Ooooooh yes, yes... fuck me this way," she heard herself moan. "Oh, shit, yes! Fuck it into me this way!" she mewled, writhing her body lustfully as he continued his frenzied motion in and out and in again. She felt that the whole world was before her and that she was young enough to take advantage of it. Cocks were everywhere. Large ones... small ones, fat and thin, the world was a paradise of cocks... and the longest one of them all was sunk into her hungry cunt... fucking into her, growing with each thrust like an immense, oversized mile-long hot dog... and now his finger entered, backed out, and entered again into her tightly puckered anus, lambasting her clenching rectum like another throbbing prick... and she was now a prisoner... a helpless, defenseless slave who could do nothing against the delicious assault of her pussy and asshole... strapped between their battering lust like an ensnared animal.
She sensed that he was slowing down, tiring perhaps, trying to catch his breath.
He labored above her, moving suddenly into longer, smoother strokes that drew his cock nearly out of her clasping vagina on the backstroke, then plunging forward into her uplifted buttocks again until she felt the harsh slap of his balls against the exposed crevice of her anus. He thrust harder and she saw the pleasure his boyish face exhibited as he forced screams and gurgling moans from her.
"Ooooohh!" she cried, this time from the scraping of his finger as it plunged and swirled more deeply into her asshole.
He seemed to be aware of his power over her now. He worked his finger around inside, stretching the rubbery softness wider and wider as he ground into her. She felt a second finger making its way into her tortured bottom, and the deep guttural noises coming from her chest eased into whimpers of pain, slowly subsiding to give way to greater moans of pleasure as her anus slowly became accustomed to his digital invasion.
He smiled a cocky grin of triumph into her face and dropped his lips to hers, shoving his tongue deep into her sucking mouth as she began to skewer her rectum back onto his fingers shamelessly, and he probed them methodically around the warm spongy depth, sending new electric sensations through her. She was marvelously impaled between his stone-hard throbbing cock deep within her vibrant cunt and his fingers shoved tightly in her asshole. The thought raised further moaning and mewling from her chest and she began twisting and squealing joyfully under this double ravishment of her naked, widespread loins.
Then, he brought his hand around to where his cock was sliding smoothly in and out of her clasping pussy, and she felt him begin to fondle the soft hair-lined lips milking at his rampaging cock, and he continued to play there until softer groans of unrestrained pleasure formed in her throat and leaped appreciatively into his ears. Her widening vagina seemed to gape in greedy desire, swallowing the whole of his cock as it plunged again and again to her very core.
Suddenly he quickened his thrust, hot and pulsating and deep, and the tormenting agony of pleasure caused her to thrash beneath him. She felt him rip his fingers from her asshole with a wet hissing sound, their loss suddenly disconcerting her, but then he was pressing his hands under her knees, lifting to no avail as she clamped her legs around him even tighter, locking her ankles together.
"Oh, oh, ooohhh," she commenced to chant beneath him, her face feeling as if it were contorted in an unrecognizable mask of wild, insane passion.
Again he quickened his stroke, grunting and groaning, grinding hard and deep, his cock boring hard up into the hidden recesses of her womb. She was a mass of exquisite moisture at her crotch, and her loins blazed at her mind, overpowering all vestiges of thought other than that of the magnificent pressure building inside her.
Nan's awareness had receded down the forgetful corridors of her mind. She was all sex and had lost all meaning except those found in tactile sensations. She was vaguely aware of Bill's hands running over her like searing tongues of flame, of his lips, of the hot friction of his body as it squirmed and swarmed against her. This was it! This was really it! Somehow it had never happened to her like this before.
She panted and writhed, then heard his wailing breath. His cock was a huge, unrelenting animal, raging and hurtling into her, making her tingle from the tips of her toes to the back of her head. It was a dream... a nightmare of joy.
She gasped out a scream. 'Oh God! Oooooooohhhhh Christ! I'm coming! IIII'MMM CUUUUMMMMMMIIIIINNNNNGGGG!" And even as she jerked and thrust against him, she felt his cock grow huge and begin to pump his hot, thick sperm far into her soft quivering belly, their juices mingling deep down inside in a wet pool of bliss and passion she had never dreamed could possibly exist.
Her legs held tight to him as he continued pumping into her and then, together, their bodies relaxed and, still entwined, they sprawled on the bed. As their heavy panting eased, she felt his shriveling penis drop out of her, pulling a few dollops of his cum to dribble down between the cheeks of her ass and nestle slimily at the entrance to her anus.
Soon Billy revived just enough to pull the blanket up over them and, wrapped up in each other's arms and legs, they slept.
Billy fell immediately into a deep and blissful sleep. After a while he found himself dreaming his own version of Muslim heaven: cool waters, green grass, and hundreds of beautiful redheaded houris serving rare foods and wines and any favor he sought. That was a truly civilized heaven, he thought. No stupid harps, no big clumsy wings and all that flying around, just acres and acres of cool green grass to roll around on with Nan and ninety-nine like her.
Nan dreamed, too. But her dreams were of the here and now. She dreamed of Billy, the ex-queer; of Paul Hanley, the poor man's rake; of Art Teffler and his friend Harvey, those two sadistic blood-loving near-humans; of Aaron Stemfelder, the dog lover; of the orgy club at Mrs. DiMintri's mansion, a good fucking quartet if Nan ever saw one; of lovely Mary Lipsher, who wasted no time but got much done; and even of nasty old Peter Dingle, whom she wouldn't know by sight, but whose smell she'd never forget.
Most of all, however, she dreamed of Mae Gail Jetty, whose spirit seemed to preside over Nan's existence this past week. Nan would never forget Mae grinning, despite the little boy's penis in her mouth: Mae, who left the good life for a life of doing good.
The good life held Nan now and it was no life for a good girl. But that didn't matter. She snuggled up to Billy's warm body and smiled in her sleep, as it occurred to her to wonder how many Billys would follow.
