Archive Note: The cover to this paperback showed the title to be "Back-Door Virgin," while the inside flyleaf indicated the title should be "THE Back-Door Virgin," as shown above.
Archive Note: An attempt has been made to correct scanning errors caused by faint printer's ink, blurry printing, or stray marks in the pocketbook which result in apparent misspelled words. However, spelling errors and grammatical mistakes written into the original pocketbook by the author have been left uncorrected for the sake of authenticity.
FOREWORD
What's a robust, virile pleasure-loving man to do when his wife refuses him the one sex act he favors above all? Brad Latham, a ruggedly attractive advertising executive, would like nothing better than the chance to bugger his beautiful blonde wife, Susan. The lady, however, stubbornly refuses to allow the penetration of her lovely posterior.
Fortunately, Brad's luscious brunette secretary, Penelope Rogers, thinks sodomy is super. Passionate Penelope, a saucy wench of twenty-three, is ever-ready to hoist her skirt, push down her pants, and bend over. She's spent many a lunch hour draped across Brad's desk, grunts of ecstasy popping from her pretty throat as Brad socks it to her fanny.
Wild to visit Penelope is her kid sister, the delightful Deborah, a seventeen-year-old bundle of enthusiasm, who, while very active sexually, has never experienced the perverse pleasure of anal intercourse. To the rescue, of course, comes Brad, his excitement at fever pitch as he deflowers Debbie's derriere during a night of wild sex at Penelope's apartment.
Meanwhile, Susan, seeking sympathy and advice, visits her next-door neighbor, Loretta Danton. Much to her dismay, Susan discovers that the titian-tressed Loretta adores anal sex about as much as she abhors it. The blonde beauty is talked into witnessing a session of sodomy, the featured performers being Loretta and Lance Caulder, a teen-age stud the hump-happy housewife has been seeing behind her husband's back. It's a wild scene, one that leaves Susan with a bad taste in her mouth-not to mention a very sore anus.
In a strange turn of events, Steve Danton, Loretta's easy-going husband, becomes enamored of Susan, the two winding up in bed together. Meanwhile, Loretta, who has learned of Brad's interest in the anal arts, decides to offer him her bottom for exploration.
CHAPTER ONE
He could think of" nothing more provocative, nothing more stimulating, than the sight of a truly beautiful female slipping gracefully out of her clothes for the purpose of sex. Unless, of course, it was the sight of a truly beautiful female, wild with lust, her heated body all a-quiver, ripping off her things in a frenzy of excitement and gut-jumbling need.
Brad Latham thought it highly un-likely that he'd ever see his wife so choked by passion, so hungry for his prick, that she could not wait to bare her body and jump into bed. Susan just wasn't the type. Quiet and soft-spoken by nature, his even-tempered spouse of four years hardly ever lost her composure or permitted temptation to upset her sense of the order of things.
Hers was a neat, orderly mind, one seemingly incapable of an unusual or irrational thought. She acted deliberately, after careful consideration of the situation, and never, or almost never, impulsively. According to Susan, there was a time and place for everything, sex included. He could not remember the last time his wife had allowed herself to be swallowed whole by passion.
Even when he had her going good, real good, when her motor was racing and the thrill of orgasm just around the corner, she managed somehow or other, to maintain her grip on reality and not let the ecstasy of the moment plunge her into a state of confusion. No, the reckless, impetuous act was not for his Susan.
Not that he didn't love his wife, Brad reminded himself, keeping his hazel eyes on her as she undressed for bed. He did love Susan. Truly he did. Though she could be maddening at times, what with her proper behavior and all, her child-like faith in the goodness of man, and her lack of imagination, Susan had a number of good things going for her.
Not the least of which was her great desirability, the sheer perfection of her face and figure. Susan was the personification of loveliness, a long-limbed, golden-haired beauty who, at age twenty-five, gave every indication of becoming even more attractive as the years went by.
It was as if her face, clear and smooth-complexioned, had been crafted with great care by a sensualist determined to create a look reflecting innocence and, at the same time, a certain sophistication. Her eyes, twin orbs of blue, complemented the gold of her silky, shoulder-length tresses, and while she was a comparatively tall girl, reaching a height of five feet, seven inches in her stocking feet, her body was curved in all the right places.
Many a male, Brad thought proudly, had stopped to stare at his luscious and very fuckable spouse. He had caught them, the young, the middle-aged, and those probably collecting Social Security benefits, ogling Susan without shame, their hungry eyes feasting on the provocative bounce of her tempting tits, the graceful curve of her hips, he cool, sleek perfection of her legs, the tantalizing sway of her beautifully-rounded rear end.
Susan paid her admirers no mind, of course. In fact, it rather annoyed her to be, as she put it, "the object of such blatantly lustful stares." It made her feel cheap, she said. Like so much meat to be inspected before being sold to the highest bidder. Didn't men think of anything besides sex?
Brad smiled inwardly. For the first time since climbing into bed, he took his eyes of his scrumptious spouse. He looked down for a brief moment at his body, and studied his cock, which having filled with warm blood, now leaned back over his stomach at a forty-five degree angle. Then again he was looking at Susan, his hands remaining clasped behind his head, as he returned his attention to the striking blue-eyed blonde.
"Gosh, but you're slow, Mrs. Latham. You haven't forgotten how to undress, have you?"
"What was that?" asked Susan, turning around to face the bare-assed naked man stretched out on his back on the double bed. "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't hear you."
Brad grinned. "Like hell you didn't."
"No, hon, really. I was thinking about something."
"About the good hard fuck you're going to get tonight, perhaps?"
Susan blushed prettily. "You're awful, you know that? Just awful."
"Awfully horney is what I am, beautiful. Look here, see what's waiting for you?" Brad pulled his right hand out from under his head and brought it down to his tumescent manhood.. He listed the turgid organ and moved it back, away from his stomach, his hand forming a fleshy sheath for his tool as he straightened its posture. "This here, sweetheart, is what you call your cock-your ready-to-be-plunged-into-a-cunt cock."
"Oh, Brad," said Susan, with a small smile, her eyes fixing on the six and a half inches of blood-fattened prick her husband now held in perpendicular position, with the bulbous head pointing directly at the bedroom ceiling.
Brad chuckled. "What do you mean, 'Oh, Brad?' This isn't exactly the first time you've seen my magic wand, you know."
"Yes, but-"
"But what, baby?"
"Well, must you be so obvious about it?"
"About what?" asked Brad, teasingly.
"Oh, you," groaned Susan, turning her back on her handsome husband. She brought her arms around behind her, hands reaching for the clasp of her cream-colored brassiere. She undid the clasp and was about to peel the constricting undergarment off her succulent breasts, when she caught sight of Brad's reflection in her vanity mirror. He had turned over onto his right side and now, with his head propped by an elbow, he was grinning his most wicked grin at her.
"What are you waiting for, beautiful? I'm waiting breathlessly for the glorious unveiling."
"This won't be the first time you've seen my breasts, Mr. Latham," said Susan, a faintly sardonic smile on her lovely, unblemished countenance.
"True, very true, but the baring of those luscious melons will never cease to pleasure me. Now shake a leg, lady. Or should I say, a tit?"
Susan stuck her tongue at her husband's reflection and then, unthinkingly, in a little gesture of defiance, bumped her pantied-ass back at his reclining form. She regretted the action immediately, for she realized it had called his attention to a part of her anatomy which, since their wedding night, had been a source of contention between them. Hoping against hope that he hadn't noticed, or if he had, that he wouldn't pursue the matter, she quickly removed the bra from her breasts and dropped it onto the satiny stool in front of her vanity. What she didn't want tonight as another argument.
There followed an awkward moment of silence, tension quickly replacing the light-hearted mood of seconds ago, as Susan, still standing with her back to her mate, stared at his reflection in the mirror and waited to see what would happen. She could tell from the expression on Brad's rough-hewn but attractive face that he had indeed noticed her saucy little rebuke. His smile had disappeared, and he was staring at her, or rather, at her pantied posterior. She was certain she knew what he was thinking.
"Have I told you lately that I think your ass is fantastic?" asked Brad, breaking the silence.
"Brad, please-"
"Oh, Susan, come on now. Can't I even pay you a compliment?"
"That's not the-"
"Next thing you know, I'll be prohibited from looking at my wife's naked body, her ass in particular."
Susan turned around to look at her husband. "Don't start in on that again, please Brad. Not tonight."
"What's so special about this particular Sunday night?"
"We were going to make love, remember?" Susan answered in a soft, gentle voice.
"Well, I haven't changed my mind, have you?" Brad forced a smile.
"Of course not."
"All right then. So peel off your pants and get into bed, why don't you?"
Susan stared at her good-looking, well-built mate, trying, or so it seemed, to read his mind, to answer the question of whether or not he intended to pursue the subject of her bottom. She hoped he would just drop it, let it go here and now, for she had been looking forward to tonight's sex session all day. Please don't let him start anything that would spoil it, she prayed silently.
"Well, are you going to take them off or not?" asked Brad.
Wordlessly, Susan turned so that she was once again facing her vanity. Hooking her thumbs into the elasticized waistband of her cream-colored briefs, she started working the flimsy undergarment around and off her shapely hips. She glanced at her mirror and discovered, not to her surprise, that Brad was still watching her, his eyes riveted to the bottom she was baring. Turning her back on him had been another mistake, she thought. Her second of the night. He might just get it into his head that she was teasing him.
It was with much more than passing interest that Brad watched his ravishing wife bare her derriere. For as long as he could remember he had been an "ass man," the kind of guy who all but salivated at the sight of a perfectly-rounded, female fanny snugly encased in tight-fitting jeans or hot-pants. As far as he was concerned, a woman wasn't really desirable unless she possessed a well-formed, fuckable fanny.
And Susan, his blue-eyed, golden-haired goddess of a wife, possessed a truly tempting tail, a fanny as fine as any he had ever set eyes upon. There were times when he wondered if maybe, just may, he had married Susan for her ass, for the opportunity to pet her posterior, to caress that scrumptious seat, to knead those lovely buttocks of warm, firm flesh.
If that had been the case, if the lure of Susan's delectable backside had led him to the altar, then certainly he had been the victim of a clever con, thought Brad, still eyeing his wife's now naked behind. Not that Susan had ever come right out and said he could fuck her ass after they were married. But could he be blamed for assuming that such a friendly, easily-aroused girl would spurn the opportunity to learn a new sexual pleasure?
Having pushed the panties down her legs to her feet, Susan now stepped out of the skimpy cotton covering. She bent down to pick up the undies, and in doing so, unthinkingly gave her husband yet another view, this one truly thrilling, of her unadorned, and still virginal ass. Realizing what she had done, she straightened up quickly and flipped the briefs onto her vanity stool. Then slowly, she turned to face the double bed they shared.
"Well, finally," said an unsmiling Brad.
"Would you rather we just forget about making love tonight?" asked the beautiful blonde.
"Are you kidding? With this hard-on I've got?"
"I was just asking, Brad, that's all."
"And I just answered, sweetheart. Now hurry up on over here, will you?"
Susan moved to the bed, and climbed into it, arranging herself on her back next to her husband, who remained on his right side, with his head propped up by an elbow. Seconds later, Brad's left hand was on her left breast, squeezing that gelatinous globe of smooth, warm flesh. She emitted a soft sigh of pleasure, for she enjoyed having her tits fondled, her nipples pinched playfully.
"So tell me, Mrs. Latham," said Brad, "when do you think you're going to grow up and start-"
"Brad, I asked you not to. Now please."
"Not to what, baby?" Ot was a sardonic smile that Brad offered his beautiful spouse as he transferred his kneading hand from her spongy left tit to her equally spongy right one.
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about," insisted Susan. "An i I'm in no mood to argue tonight."
"Me neither. I have no intention of drawing you into an argument, sweetheart. I simply asked a question, that's all. But if you're too embarrassed to answer it-"
Susan stared at her husband, her pretty blue eyes suggesting the anger beginning to well within her. It was at times like this, she thought, and only at times like this, that she questioned the strength of Brad's love. And all because of her stupid ass! Or, rather, all because of her husband's interest in sticking his manhood into her stupid ass. They got along so beautifully otherwise. They almost never fought, and when they did it was over in a matter of minutes. In so many ways they were compatible. If only there wasn't this business of her bottom to contend with.
"So, beautiful? Are we going to talk about it or not?"
"Must we, Brad? Haven't we hashed it over enough?"
"I don't think so."
"Well, I certainly do. I mean, after four years of this bickering over my behind, I've just about had it. Enough is enough, you know?"
"So you say. I happen to think that discussions between a man and his wife can be fruitful."
"What you mean is, you're going to talk and talk and talk about anal sex in the hope of wearing down my resistance to it. But it's not going to work, Brad. No way."
"You're sure of that, huh?" asked Brad, hiding his frustration behind a crooked little grin.
"Positive. And I'll tell you something else. I'm tired of having to defend my views about something as sick and perverted as sodomy. The way you talk anyone would think I'm some kind of frigid female who keeps you at bay with a pitchfork. And that, need I remind you, is certainly not the case."
"I never said you were frigid, Susan."
"Then why can't you be satisfied making love to me in the normal way? Why do you insist on bringing up over and over again, an act you know I think is perfectly abhorrent? Honestly, there are times when I think you wish you had married one of those tramps you were running around with before I came along."
"Don't be ridiculous, Susan. You know I love you."
"But you could really convince me if you'd just stop asking for my behind. I mean, just the thought of your doing that to me turns my stomach."
"I know, I know. You've told me as much time and time again."
"So believe me and drop the subject, all right?"
Brad removed his hand from his wife's right breast and slid it downward over the smooth, flat plane of her stomach, and then finally, into the hollow of her warm, creamy-smooth thighs. Within seconds he was stroking Susan's golden snatch, his fingers winding their way through the crinkly pubic curls shielding her pretty sex lips. While he knew in his heart that his chances weren't good, practically nil in fact, he knew if he was ever going to stick his meat into Susan's succulent seat it would be when she was out of her mind with passion, and too worked up to protest when he turned her over.
Reading her husband's mind, Susan said, "And don't think that's going to work, either. You've tried the same trick many times, in the past, remember?"
"And with no success," added Brad, his voice framed by bitterness.
"And with no success," repeated Susan, half smiling.
"But who knows, Mrs. Latham. Maybe one of these days."
"Never happen, Mr. Latham. I can guarantee it."
Tempted though he was to reply to that, with perhaps a mild oath or two uttered under his breath, Brad kept quiet and concentrated on building a fire in his wife's loins. Continuing his gentle massage of Susan's snatch, he lowered his head to her beautiful breasts and commenced a lewd licking of those delightful globs, his wandering tongue laving the right first, and then the left, bathing both with sticky saliva. When he wasn't licking he was nibbling, nibbling on Susan's rose hued nipples which, he was happy to note, were already beginning to stiffen in response to his artful ministrations.
Susan relaxed and gave herself over to the pleasure. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of her husand's lips and tongue on her sensitive tits, the feel of his stroking, patting hand on her equally sensitive pussy. Gone, at least for the moment, was the anger that had surfaced as a result of Brad's bringing up, for the umpteenth time, his interest in her rectum as a sheath of his fleshy sword.
She did love the man, she told herself. Loved him with all her heart. Brad was kind, gentle, considerate, a man capable of considerable compassion. He was intelligent, too, and not without charm. He was every bit as ambitious as the next fellow, and worked hard at Kincaid Associates, Inc., the advertising firm he had joined soon after their marriage.
Last, but certainly not least, Brad was handsome, handsome in a rugged, all-male sort of way. One hundred and eighty pounds rested beautifully on his six foot, one-inch frame. His eyes were brown, as was his hair, which, in keeping with the times, he wore long, shag style. His was a rough-hewn face, the features seemingly hammered out of a block of granite, and this served to convey the fact that he was an individualist, a man of action unafraid to accept the challenge of the unknown.
Brad was a lover, too, thought Susan, beginning to squirm a little now, as her husband started kissing and licking his way down her warming body. And a darn good one. It was true, of course, that her pre-marital sexual experience had been of a kind guaranteed to make a nymphomaniac shortly, yet the handful of men she had slept with prior to climbing into bed with Brad had provided her with a reasonable basis for comparison. And her husband was infinitely superior to any of her old flames when it came to lovemaking.
Yes, it was good with Brad. Very good. Now, if only she could knock out of his handsome head the idea of sticking his thing into her behind.
Sticking his thing into her behind was just what Brad has in mind as he journeyed to Susan's snatch, his body in snake-like slither toward that inviting goal. A moment now to swab her navel, to dig his teasing tongue into that wrinkled indentation, and then again he was on the move, crawling backwards, his tongue trailing over the smooth plane of Susan's tummy and then snaking into her golden nest of pubic curls.
"Mmmm, darling," cooed the ravishing blonde, "that feels so wonderful. Do it to me, Brad. Eat my pussy."
"You want me to lick it, Susan?" asked Brad, looking up at his quick-to-arouse spouse.
"Yes, please."
"And suck it?"
"Y-Yes. Oh yes, darling."
"And stick my tongue all the way inside you?"
"Yes, Brad. Yes, yes, yes!"
A smiling Brad, in low, subservient crouch between his hot wife's spread legs, now bent to his task, one which, needless to say, he found not at all unpleasant. Digging his hands under Susan's ass, the ass he wanted so very much to fuck, he clasped the warm, half-moons of flesh that were her buttocks and, lifting her up a bit, plastered his face to her odorous womanhood.
"Ohhhhh...." moaned a happy Susan. "Ohhhh, yes."
With an expertise born of considerable experience Brad commenced cunnilingus, his practiced tongue a fleshy shovel as it scooped up and tossed back into his mouth the tasty lubricating juices seeping from Susan's aroused vagina. Up and down and all around he licked, his head weaving sensuously against Susan's heating snatch as he paid oral homage to that golden treasure.
"My clit, darling," Susan said excitedly. "D-Don't forget my clit."
Brad has no intention of ignoring his wife's clitoris, which, as every skilled cocksman knows, is the seat of a female's passion, the core of her being. In fact, he wasted no time complying with Susan's urgent request, his tongue zipping upward, to the apex of her slick, pulpy sex lips, where it found, pulsating and ready to be adored, one blood-filled clitoris.
"ooooo," moaned Susan, arching her hips off the bed when she felt her husband's knowing tongue hit her swollen passion nubbin. "Do it, darling. Use your wonderful tongue. Mmmmm ... "
Brad, his cock still rock-hard and throbbing, went to work on Susan's clitoris, his tongue slapping at that sensitive love button, poking it playfully, swabbing it carefully but purposefully. Before long he was pursing his lips and taking the quivering erectile organ into his hungry mouth, milking it tenderly, lovingly, as if to make up for having knocked it about with his jabbing tongue.
But even as he tended to his wife's twat, enjoyed the whimpers of pleasure and moans of delight spilling from her lips as a result of his cunning work on her blood-fattened clit, he thought of how delightful it would be, how thrilling, if instead of tonguing her front he was busy bathing her back, her backside.
Pleasure aplenty awaited him back there, he told himself for the thousandth time. Pleasure for Susan, too. Not one of the females he had fanny-fucked had voiced a complaint about his technique. Not a one. All had reveled in the pleasure-pain of the act, in the sheer wickedness of it.
Penelope Rogers, his luscious brunette secretary, was a case in point. Just the thought of having a thick, throbbing prick shoved balls deep inside her curvacious seat was enought to start her creaming in her pants. Pretty Penelope was always ready to lift her skirt, push down her undies, and bend over.
Thank goodness there were girls like Penelope in this world, girls who, unlike his wife, understood the simple fact that nothing two consenting adults do in bed together is "wrong" or in any way "evil." If only Susan, the girl he really cared about, could come to that realization.
"Oh, Brad, you're driving me crazy, darling," Susan husked, breaking into her husband's thoughts. "IT need it in me, lover. Now, Brad."
Brad lifted his face from his excited wife's golden-haired pussy and looked up at her. He had her going now, he thought. A good cuntlapping never failed to start Susan's motor. The look on her face was enough to convince him that she craved his pecker, that she desired a sound screwing.
"PI-Please, darling," pleaded Susan. "Do it to me now. I'm so hot for you, Brad."
"You want my prick, do you?"
"Yes, lover. In me, Brad. Shove it in me now."
"First things first, sweetheart."
"What? What are you tailing about?"
"Your ass, beautiful. I want to lick it."
"No, Brad. Dammit, I told you before-"
"And I'm telling you that tonight, just for once, we play the game my way."
Susan shook her head on the pillow. "No, I won't let you demean yourself. I can't."
"Demean myself? What the hell are you talking about? All I want to do is give you pleasure."
"I refuse. I-I absolutely refuse."
"Then you can forget about getting laid tonight," Brad shot back. "I can be as stubborn as you are, sweetheart."
"I'll just wait you out, that's all. You'll give in sooner or later."
"Like I usually do, right?"
"Right."
"Wrong, baby. Not this time. Either you cooperate or I take this hard-on into the shower."
Susan forced a smile. "A cold shower? You'd never get rid of it that way, Brad. Not when you have me to screw."
"Think I can't resist you, huh? Well, why don't we just see what happens, Mrs. Latham?"
"You're going to lose, Brad. You always do."
"Not tonight. This time you're going to be the one to yell uncle."
"Never," Susan said defiantly.
A test of wills ensured, husband and wife taking on the roles of stubborn adversaries in the tension-packed silence of their bedroom.
Brad, kneeling between Susan's spread legs, stared down at her while stroking his erection with his right hand. He was determined to hang in there and not yield. Too many times in the past had he succumbed to his wife's luscious nakedness, to the scintillating sight of her beckoning cunt, his resolve crumbling under the weight of a need he could no longer deny as he threw in the towel and, with a savage growl, slammed his meat into her viscous vagina. Tonight, however, it would be a different story.
Susan was as determined not to revise the script as her spouse was to tack on a new ending to it. She stared right back at Brad, their eyes locking in combat. How long, she wondered, before he surrendered, before he realized the futility of this silly contest and punched his erection into her eager vagina. Not that it made much difference. She would win, of that she was certain, and if she had to wait five minutes for Brad to crack, well, then she would just hang tough.
It was after more than five minutes had elapsed, with her unsmiling spouse showing no signs of collapse, that Susan started to worry. After seven minutes she knew she was in trouble, for the ache in her vagina was becoming greater and greater while Brad's determination not to weaken seemed to be growing stronger. He should have gone under by now, she realized. But no, he was still putting up the good fight and-and winning!
"Come on, darling," purred the beautiful blonde, trying a different tack. "You know you want it, Brad. My pussy, lover. See how warm and wet it is?" She lifted her ass off the bed and began rotating her hips in slow, sensuous circles in an effort to break her husband.
"It looks good, Susan," Brad admitted with a small smile.
"Then fuck it, darling. Ram your cock into me.
"Later. After I've spent a little time on your fanny."
The sexy smile, on Susan's face evaporated. She glared at her mate. "Bastard! Oh, how I hate you!"
Brad chuckled. "You don't mean that, sweetheart."
"I-I do..I do mean it, dammit."
"Ready now to turn over for me?"
Susan didn't answer. The fact that she had lost this test of wills infuriated her, made her want to scamper off the bed and leave her husband with no one to fuck. Preventing such a move, of course, was the raging fire at her loins, a fire that could be put out only by Brad's thick, fleshy hose. But to get that hosing she would first have to let him at her behind.
"Well, do I win or don't I, Mrs. Latham?"
Susan hesitated, then, with a sigh of defeat, "All right, you win. Dammit, you win."
"Good. Now flip over onto your front like a good girl."
"You're just going to lick it, aren't you? I-I mean, you're not thinking of ... of doing anything else."
Brad grinned.
"Please, Brad. The pain would kill me."
"All right, all right. Don't start bawling on me. I'll just lick it ... tonight."
Susan didn't much like the sound of that, for the implication was that at another time, and probably in the not too distant future, she'd be confronted with the reality of her husband forcing his meat up into her ass. She could almost bank on that happening-maybe even the next time they went to bed. Emboldened by the success he'd had tonight, Brad would certainly not wait very long before attempting anal intercourse.
"What do I have to do, Susan, roll you over myself?" asked Brad, impatiently.
The long-limbed blonde beauty with the curvacious figure turned over onto her front, thereby presenting her happy mate with a clear, unobstructed view of her provocative posterior. She encircled her head with her arms and closed her eyes. Just the fact that she was lying like this, on her stomach with her naked bottom so vulnerable, so defenseless, was enough to bring a blush to her pretty cheeks.
Brad smiled down at his luscious wife's perfectly-rounded backside. He still wasn't sure how he had managed to emerge victorious this time after failing so often in the past. Either he had developed a stronger will or Susan was more turned on tonight than usual. In any event, he wasn't about to ponder the matter. Later, maybe, but certainly not now. Not when, after four long years, for the very first time, he could pay oral tribute to his beautiful wife's beautiful bottom.
He would keep his word, of course, Brad told himself as he placed his hands on Susan's delectable fanny and began kneading her spongy buttocks. Tonight he would do no more than tongue her tail-and, of course, her pretty little asshole. It wasn't really much, but it was a helluva lot more than he had expected when he climbed into bed.
It was a beginning. A nice beginning. For the first time in his marriage he could look forward to fucking his wife in the ass.
CHAPTER TWO
Susan lay quietly on the bed, her eyes closed, her arms on the pillow and cradling her head. She felt her husband's hands on her behind, kneading it as a baker might a mass of dough, and wondered what possible pleasure he could be deriving from the act. She could understand a man's interest in the female bosom. But the female posterior? A behind was just something you sat on.
"You're going to enjoy this, Susan," promised Brad, his fingers digging into the resiliant flesh of his spouse's fanny.
"It's disgusting, Brad. You're disgusting."
"Because I happen to want to lick your ass?"
"Only perverts and-"
"So now I'm a pervert, huh? Suppose I told you that I think you're the perverted one."
"Me?"
"Yes, you. For holding out all this time. For being afraid to try something a little bit different."
"That's ridiculous."
"You're ridiculous, Susan. Now shut up and try to enjoy yourself, all right?"
"How can I possibly enjoy-"
"All right, that's enough, Susan," Brad broke in. "If you want my cock you'll behave yourself and try to act like a real woman-for a change."
"How dare you imply that I'm anything but a-owwww!" The totally unexpected and stinging slap that Brad delivered to her right buttock cut Susan off in mid-sentence. She squirmed on the bed as the struck cheek reddened.
"Do you want another one, Susan?" asked Brad, threateningly.
"N-No, darn you. Oooo, that hurt."
A grin washed over Brad's rough-hewn face. "Did you like it?"
"Like it? I just told you it hurt, didn't I?"
"Some women enjoy a spanking every now and then." Just ask Miss Penelope Rogers, Brad added to himself.
"And I suppose you spanked your share before we were married."
Not only before, thought Brad, but also after.
"You must miss all those sick tramps. Poor you, stuck with a normal wife who values her self-respect."
Brad chuckled. For a few seconds more he fondled his wife's succulent backside, savored the feel of those firm, creamy-smooth buttocks in his kneading hands. And then, dropping into a low crouch, he mashed his face against Susan's ass, his tongue snaking from between his lips to begin a lascivious laving of that heretofore unlicked derriere.
Up and down and all about he licked, his tongue a fleshy brush as it swept over the taut cheeks. He still found hard to believe the fact that he was really doing what he had dreamed of doing for so long, that his face was buried in Susan's fabulous fanny and that he was actually paying oral homage to her virginal rear.
For her part, Susan felt nothing but revulsion. Revulsion mixed with some anger. She was angry at herself for allowing Brad to use her in this fashion, as a means through which he could enjoy his depraved fetish. And she was angry at Brad for making her suffer the indignity of this sinful tongue bath.
With obvious pleasure Brad swabbed his unhappy mate's bottom, his slippery tongue scooting merrily over the taut hillocks of smooth flesh. When he wasn't licking Susan's sweet ass he was nibbling it, munching on it like a famished rodent.
"Stop it now, Brad," pleased Susan. "That's enough."
But it wasn't nearly enough-not as far as Brad was concerned. Too long had he waited for this chance to feast on his wife's shapely ass to stop now, simply because she was of the opinion that he had slibbered long enough. And besides, the best was yet to come. Susan's pretty little anus awaited his adoring tongue.
"Please, Brad, no more. How can you get pleasure out of this horrible-"
"Don't you feel anything?" asked Brad, lifting his face from his beautiful spouse's delectable behind.
"Of course not," Susan hastened to answer.
"Not even a little pleasure?"
"Nothing."
"That's because you're such an inhibited female," opined Brad.
"I'm not inhibited and you know it. Now stop fooling around and do me the right way."
"You'll get my cock when I'm good and ready to give it to you. Not a second sooner."
With that, the ruggedly-attractive fanny-fetishist returned his attention to Susan's saliva-coated rear end. A few seconds later, as a wicked grin blanketed his face, he was ordering his wife up onto her hands and knees.
"Why?" asked the puzzled blonde beauty. She wondered if he intended to take her from behind as she knelt on all fours. It was not really one of her favorite positions for intercourse, but she was willing to accommodate Brad if that was what he wanted. Anything to keep him from continuing this sick worship of her bottom.
"Just do as I say, Susan."
"Are you going to do it to me now-from the back?"
"Maybe. Now stop with the questions and get on your hands and knees."
Susan pushed herself up off the bed and into an all fours position. She waited for her husband to make his move, her lustrous, shoulder-length tresses hanging down around her face as she stared straight ahead, at the headboard of the bed. Had it not been for the fact that she was still annoyed with Brad she would have told him, clearly and succinctly, just how badly she needed his cock pistoning in her cunt. Because of what he had put her through, however, she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing she still ached for his manhood.
If Susan thought the worst was over, she was sadly mistaken. She discovered, much to her horror, the exact reason her husband had ordered her to assume the all fours position when, all of a sudden, she felt him prying apart the cheeks of her well-bathed backside. For a few fleeting seconds she knew panic. No, he wasn't going to actually do it to her, she thought, horrified. He had promised. But then, when she felt Brad's mouth on her anus....
"Brad! Stop that this instant! Brad, do you hear me?"
Brad took his mouth off the small nether hole and smiled at his shocked spouse, who had swirled her head around to look back at him over her left shoulder. "Now what's the matter, baby?" he asked innocently.
"You know what's the matter, dammit. How can you even ... oh, you're even more depraved than I thought."
"Will you stop with this depraved and disgusting crap? I'm had my fill of it, sweetheart."
"I-I won't let you do this, Brad. I mean it."
"Shit, Susan, what the hell's the matter with you? You'd think I was about to beat you bloody or something."
"Just leave me alone, Brad. I-I don't even want to make love any more."
"That's a good one."
"I mean it. Your idiotic fascination with my behind has turned me off."
"Is that so? Well, I'm just going to have to turn you back on, my darling. And a good licking of your pretty asshole should do the trick."
"Brad, I'm warning you...."
"AnH J've already warned you, remember? No ass-licking, no screwing."
With that, giving his angry spouse no time to respond to the threat, Brad placed his mouth back on her niggardly nether hole and commenced chomping on that tasty aperture. Susan emitted a groan of despair and brought her head around so that she was looking down at the sheeted mattress. She could not remember ever being so mortified, so revolted. Why in the name of all that was holy, she asked herself, would any man want to slobber over a woman's anus.
Brad, of course, would have had no trouble coming up with an answer to his wife's query.
But he certainly wasn't about to take the time now to detail the reasons he enjoyed analingus. All that interested him at the moment was Susan's cute little asshole, which, he was sure, he could go on eating all night long.
"Stop it, Brad, please," Susan whined. "You're making me feel so dirty."
Once again Brad pulled his hungry mouth off his wife's shithole. "And you stop squirming your ass, Susan," he said angrily. "Or I might just decide to really shock you."
"You wouldn't."
"Fuck you in the ass? No, for that I need your full cooperation, which is something I know I can't count on. What I'm talking about, beautiful, is a good spanking."
"You wouldn't dare spank me," said the beauteous blonde, sounding much more confident than she really felt. Truth was, she knew her husband was not above carrying out his threat. He had never hit her before, but there was always a first time. And tonight could very easily be it.
"Don't tempt me, Susan. I'm going to eat out your ass and that's all there is to it. Now you just behave yourself if you don't want a sore seat."
So saying Brad returned his mouth to Susan's anus and resumed his lustful worship of that miserly opening. On his knees and bent forward at the waist, his thumbs still holding Susan's buttocks apart, he feasted without shame on the puckered port of her anus, his wet tongue snaking inside her delightful bottom.
Soon he was pistoning his tongue in and out of his miserable mate's shithold, inhaling, at the same time, the telltale odor of that hairless, pinkish-brown aperture, an odor he found, needless to say, exciting and far from unpleasant. He even went so far as to compare the smell of his wife's anus to that of Penelope, which he had enjoyed just this past Friday afternoon in his office.
Now there was a girl who would jump through rings of fire to please a man. thought Brad. He didn't think there was a sex act she didn't know or hadn't tried at least once. Ask Penelope to stick a cucumber inside her cunt and a fat carrot up her ass and she was scurrying to the supermarket. Order her to bend over for a dozen or so whacks with a ruler and she obeyed without hesitation-or immediately after getting the ruler from the desk.
This should only be Penelope he was tonguing. If this was his secretary's anus he was licking and sucking instead of his wife's, he'd be hearing whimpers of lust and breathless pleas for a mean sodomizing instead of the sound of silence. Penelope would be squirming her fanny back into his face and berating him for not sticking his tongue even deeper inside her smelly rectum. But not Susan. From here there was nothing but the shocked silence of one whose straitlaced upbringing precluded experimentation with the pleasures afforded by the anus.
Susan was indeed "suffering" in silence. Knowing full well that her husband meant business, realizing that to argue further would serve no real purpose and that it might, quite possibly, trigger the spanking she most certainly did not want, the beauteous female permitted Brad to have his way with her, or, rather, with her asshole.
Again she asked herself how her husband, or, for that matter, any sane, intelligent male, could derive pleasure from the sickening, shameful act of analingus. She had heard about the practice, of course, had read about it in the very explicit sex manual Brad had brought home a few months ago, and once, prior to her marriage, when she was dating a number of fellows, she had even been asked to perform the depraved act, yet she still couldn't believe it was something normal people engaged in, something they actually enjoyed doing.
She wondered how many female behinds Brad had licked, how many assholes his searching tongue had explored. The number had to be great, she thought, for he certainly seemed to know what he was doing back there. His tongue was working furiously, at a frenzied pace, now digging inside her rectum to wriggle there like a fleshy worm, now licking up and down her anus, now, again, pistoning in and out of her behind. Was this supposed to thrill her, to change her mind about anal sex. If so, Brad was wasting his time.
For a full minute more Brad labored at his unresponsive wife's tasty shithole, his hard-working tongue seeming to be everywhere at once as he slobbered with slavish abandon. Then, finally, when he'd had his fill, he pulled his face up and away from Susan's delectable, still damp derriere and, at the same time, removed his thumbs from her buttocks and let her now saliva-filled anus wink shut.
"So, Mrs. Latham, how was that? Much nicer than you had expected it to be, I'll bet."
"You're an animal," Susan said without emotion. "I'm just now finding out that I married a pervert."
"But I'm still good enough to fuck you, aren't I?"
The blue-eyed girl didn't answer.
"Well, do you want my cock or don't you, sweetheart?"
Now, again, Susan started to berate herself, for she realized she was caught betwixt and between. She wanted very much to tell her husband to go to hell, to tell him to take his prick and find another vagina to stick it in, as she was no longer in the mood to get laid. Problem was, she did need Brad's cock, needed it more than she was willing to admit. Although she had not seen her mate's manhood for a few minutes, she was certain that it was still rock-hard and ready to be plunged into her. And it would, she knew, feel so good inside her empty cunt.
"Well, Susan, what's it to be? Are you going to pout like a child for the rest of the night or-" .
"All right, fuck me, Brad," Susan broke in, her voice, somewhat louder than normal, reflecting frustration and annoyance.
"Don't do me any favors now, sweetheart."
"Just do it, will you? Stop talking and put it in me."
Brad smiled down at his wife, thinking that those words were the very ones spoken to him by Penelope Rogers last Friday afternoon when, after stripping to her skin, she draped herself over his desk and announced her need for a sound assfucking. All he had to do, he thought, was respond to his wife's words the way he had responded to his secretary when she uttered them. Susan would go right through the roof.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" asked Susan, who was still looking down at the mattress. "You were going to make love to me, remember?"
"You want it like that-from behind?"
"I don't care."
"All right, then, get down on your elbows."
Susan did as directed, arranging herself so that she was in low, slave-like crouch with her head down, resting on the pillow and cradled by her arms, and her well-tongued posterior up. Eyeing that posterior, Brad shuffled forward on his knees and took a position directly behind his luscious spouse.
One hand, his left, he placed on Susan's ass, the other he brought to his blood-fattened pecker. He proceeded to steer his organ on target, wedging the fat, plum-shaped head between his wife's slick cunt lips while she remained in her obscene crouch. And then he was pushing into Susan, his cock burrowing inside the heavenly mush of her warm, syrupy womanhood.
"Uhhmmmm...." moaned the dazzling blonde. "Ahhhhh...."
"Like this, don't you, sweetheart? My tongue on your asshole is not so nice, but my cock in your cunt is just dandy."
"G-Get it in me, dammit. All of it."
"Every fat, beautiful inch?"
"Yes. Do it."
Brad did it, thrusting forward with his hips to send his bloated prick scurrying all the way inside his wife's velvet-lined glove of a vagina. Susan moaned into the pillow, a look of rapture flowering on her beautiful face as she savored the feel of her husband's tool snugly ensconced her in cunt.
Not many seconds later Brad was screwing his spouse, his hips moving back and forth slowly, carefully, as he worked his swollen pecker in and out of her slushy sex chute. Although he had a special interest in the female bottom, by no means did he reject the pleasures afforded one by the female vagina. And he fully appreciated his wife's snug, clasping cunt, for it was almost as tight tonight as it had been on their wedding night.
"More, Brad," Susan said in a thick voice. "Harder. Faster."
"So now I'm a nice guy again, huh?" said Brad, a sardonic smile on his face.
"Please, darling. Just fuck me ... hard and fast."
"Are you sorry you called me a pervert?"
"Brad, please...."
"Answer me, beautiful. I can still leave you hanging you know."
"You would too, dammit," whimpered Susan, her hands clenching on the pillow as she dug her face deeper into that comfortable, down-filled cushion.
"Darn right I would. Now are you going to apologize like a good girl?"
Susan choked back the epithet she was tempted to hurl at her teasing mate and then, reluctantly, apoligized. She knew that later, perhaps tomorrow when she reflected on what had transpired tonight, the analingus and all the rest, she would curse herself for giving in to Brad's childish demand for an apology. Right now, however, all that mattered was that he not take his big beautiful cock out of her cunt.
"That's better, Mrs. Latham. Now what was that you were saying about a harder, faster fuck?"
Once again Susan swallowed her price. "I-I want it faster, dammit. And harder. Please, Brad. Please!"
Grinning lewdly, Brad speeded up the tempo of his thrusts into Susan's mushy sex oven. Again and again he slammed into his happy spouse's cunt, his hands remaining firmly clamped on her upturned hips as he fucked her from behind.
"Oh yes, that's good," Susan sobbed into the pillow. "Don't stop, Brad. Fuck me good."
"Like this, baby?"
"Uuuummmph."
"And this?"
"Arrrgh!"
Rought, rapid thrust followed rough, rapid thrust as Brad continued to piston his bloated pecker in the heavenly slush of Susan's clutching vagina. His fingers dug into the smooth, resilient flesh of her hips as he thrust and withdrew, thrust and withdrew.
Adding to his enjoyment of the moment was the look on his passion-drenched wife's face, a look that eloquently bespoke the delight she was deriving from this forceful screwing.
"Do me, lover," Susan begged breathlessly. "Do me good. Fuck hard, Brad."
"Can you feel it, baby?" husked Brad.
"Up to my tits."
This brought a grin to Brad's ruggedly attractive face. It was only at times like this, he thought, only when Susan was in the grip of a choking passion, that she shelved decorum and used good old-fashioned gutter words to describe her feelings. How pleasant it was to realize that lust, the need for a sound fucking, could turn his very lady-like wife into a hot-assed spitfire.
"Tell me how much you love it, Susan."
"I-I do," stammered the excited blonde. "I do love it. I love your cock!"
"When It's in your mouth?"
"Yes."
"And when it's in your hot cunt?"
"Yes. In my hot, aching cunt."
"You'd like it up your ass too. You know you would."
"No. I-I couldn't like it."
Brad snorted and continued his ruthless reaming of Susan's hot, slushy womanhood, his blood-fattened cock digging deep into her tummy as he banged away with gusto. Ever so briefly he considered the idea of changing routes, of pulling his prick out of his lust-soaked wife's syrupy vagina and cramming it balls deep inside her mucky rectum.
He rejected the idea, appealing though it was, for two reasons. First, experience had taught him that fanny-fucking a female was virtually impossible unless she relaxed and cooperated-and that, he knew, Susan would not do. She was hot right now, brimming with passion, but all that would change in the blink of an eye if he attempted anal intercourse. The moment she felt his rigid cock leave her cuunt and press against her anus she would freeze and probably bolt off the bed.
Second, he didn't think it wise to do anything that would mitigate the progress he'd already made tonight. Finally, after four years of frustration, he had managed to back Susan into a corner and tongue her succulent bottom. Better to be satisfied with this breakthrough, he thought, then to be greedy and force himself on Susan, thereby pushing back even further the day he finally got his rod into her tail.
A very happy Susan, still in obscene crouch with her head resting on the pillow and her fanny sticking up in the air, grunted and groaned with pleasure as her husband continued his hard, savage fucking of her cunt. Eyes closed, her face flushed, she reveled in his strong, determined thrusts, the feel of that deliciously thick cock slashing up into her tummy from behind thrilling her to the nth degree.
Breathing hard, Brad once again accelerated the tempo of his thrusts and raced toward the finish line. With wild abandon he plunged into Susan's molten love cove, the force of his frenzied thrusts knocking her forward on the bed and pushing her face deeper into the pillow.
And then, finally, the inevitable...."Get ready, baby. Here it comes."
"Give it to me! I want it!"
Brad lunged into his wi 's grateful vagina a few more times and then, leaving his cock imbedded in that fleshy sleeve, shot his wad, an animal-like moan of pleasure erupting from his throat as the gooey semen gushed forth. He threw back his head and gritted his teeth, a look of almost unbearable pleasure sweeping across his rough-hewn face as he inundated his wife's cunt.
Susan moaned joyously. Her husband's come, the feel of that beautiful semen splashing into her pulsating womanhood, triggered her own orgasm. Eyes still closed, mouth agape, she tumbled headlong into the unalloyed pleasure of sexual climax, another long, drawn-out moan of sheer delight sailing from her throat as spasms of ecstasy ripped through her.
It was over much too soon, of course. Seeking to prolong the moment, Brad kept his pecker deeply imbedded in Susan's messy vagina even after the last of his syrupy semen had trickled from his tool. He loosened his grip on Susan's hips and started stroking her flanks, his breathing gradually returning to normal as his pecker shriveled in the comforting confines of her soupy cabbage.
Then, carefully, he eased himself onto his wife's back. Susan buckled under his weight and within seconds found herself once again stretched out belly down on the mattress. Brad rested on her warm, naked body, his pooped prick, which had slid out of her cunt, dangling now against her crotch.
"Was that satisfactory, Mrs. Latham?"
"Very," answered Susan, purring like a contented kitten. "I'll be sore for days, you devil."
Brad smiled and nuzzled the back of his wife's head, his nostrils filling with the pleasant scent of her golden tresses. "How would you like a repeat performance, sweetheart?" he asked softly.
"You've got to be kidding."
"I think I could manage another hard-on. With your help, of course."
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Susan, smiling a dreamy smile. Now that she had been soundly laid, the flames of passion aroused doused by her hubby's thick hose of a prick, she was almost willing to forgive Brad his ridiculous interest in her behind. The shameful act of analingus he had performed on here earlier seemed now, in the aftermath of their frienzied mating, to be relatively unimportant and not worthy of further analysis.
"You know very well what it means, beautiful."
"No, darling. It's too late."
"It's never too late for a blow-job, Mrs.
Latham."
"But you have to work tomorrow, Brad."
"So?"
"So if you don't get your sleep-"
"I'll sleep on the job," interrupted Brad, nibbling now on the back of his wife's soft, smooth neck.
"And what would Mr. Kincaid say about that?"
"Nothing. He's not about to scold the most important member of his team."
"You're that important, huh?" smiled Susan.
"I think so. Now do I get that blow-job or not, beautiful?"
"You'll have to clean up first."
"Why?"
"Because."
Brad emitted a tiny chuckle. "Because my cock just came out of your cunt?"
"That's right."
"No, that's ridiculous. How come all of a sudden you don't like the taste of your twat?"
"I didn't say I didn't like it, darling."
"All right, then, so you'll suck me the way I am."
"Is that an order?"
"You bet it is. And it's one you know you can't wait to obey."
"Says who?"
"Says me."
With that, Brad rolled off his wife and onto his back, his come-coated cock flopping about before coming to rest between his legs. Susan turned slowly onto her back and then pushed herself up into a sitting position on the bed. She stared at her husband's limp, sorry-looking organ for a moment, a little shiver of excitement rippling up her spine as she contemplated taking the shriveled member into her mouth and sucking it hard.
"See anything you like, baby?" grinned Brad.
The blonde nodded her head. "Well, it's all yours."
Susan maneuvered on the bed until she was kneeling next to her spouse, her knees at right angles to his right leg. Seconds later she was hunched over, her lovely lips parting as she took hold of Brad's flaccid root and directed it to her mouth. She took it all in at once and rolled it on her tongue.
"That's my girl, " said Brad, resting his hands on his stomach as he looked down at his luscious wife. "Suck it hard for me, Susan. Mmmmm, that's the way."
CHAPTER THREE
Contrary to what he had told his wife, Brad was not in the habit of sleeping on the job. He valued his position at Kincaid Associates too much to risk losing it. Even though he knew Matthew Kincaid would think twice before firing him, he wasn't about to give the old man the slightest cause to do so. Too hard had he worked establishing a reputation as a clever, imaginative public relations man to blow it now by goofing off.
Nevertheless, when the opportunity came along to relax a bit Brad took advantage of it. He was taking such advantage now, enjoying the quiet of his small but tastefully-furnished office as he sat in the plush, black leather swivel chair with his feet up on his desk. He had been on the go since ten this morning, interviewing models, consulting with the copywriters in his charge, meeting with a super-important client, and he was more than happy that the work day was almost over. It was now four-thirty. In another half hour or so he could start for home.
Brad tilted his head back and closed hies eyes. He let his mind wander and soon found himself thinking about Susan, about the enjoyable sex session he'd had with her Sunday night. A little smile crept over his face when he remembered the good tonguing he had given her fabulous tail.
With much pleasure he recalled the hard humping he'd given her as she quivered in servile crouch on the bed. And then, of course, there was Susan's spirited sucking of his cock, the enthusiastic manner in which she had fellated him to a second hard-on. He captured the scene in his mind; Susan, hunched over and sucking his root with whorish abandon, her head bobbing rapidly up and down, up and down, her silky golden tresses swirling about her beautiful face as she labored lustily. He could see her hobbling, hear her gasping as she struggled to swallow the mucky load he'd finally blasted into her hungry mouth.
Brad shook his head slowly side to side. It was weird, he thought. Downright weird. Not in a million years would he understand why Susan found anal Sex so revolting. How as it that a girl who enjoyed everything else, especially fellatio, couldn't bring herself to accepting a cock in the ass?
Susan, who had worked hard to overcome the influence of over-protective parents, loved to fellate him and loved to be eaten, and although she had her favorites she never argued when he suggested a particular position for intercourse. In fact, he had the green light to do just about anything to his wife-anything, that is, that didn't focus his attention on her behind. That sweet posterior was off-limits.
Or at least it had been, Brad corrected himself, smiling inwardly. He had, much to his surprise and delight, broken new ground on Sunday night with the tonguing of Susan's derriere. And so maybe, if the gods continued smiling down at him, he just might be able to take the plunge-the plunge into Susan's bottom, that is-the next time they made love.
Or if not the next time, maybe the time after that.
It was as Brad started to visualize himself sodomizing Susan that he heard the knocking on his office door. He opened his eyes, swung his legs off the desk, and, assuming a business-like demeanor, pulled his chair closer to the desk. Then, when all was ready, he called a greeting to his visitor.
The door opened and in walked Penelope Rogers, this twenty-three-year-old sexpot of a secretary.
Brad sighed. "Oh, it's you, Penny."
The brunette beauty with the big brown eyes grinned. "You were expecting the Queen of Sheba, maybe?"
"Funny. Very funny. Wipe that silly grin off your face and tell me what's up."
"Your cock, I hope," cracked Penelope.
"Hey, not so loud, will you? You want everybody out there to know about us?"
"Everybody out where? Nobody's here, lover. They've all gone home."
"What? At four-thirty?"
"Uh huh. The old man dropped into the office and for some strange reason gave everybody the rest of the day off. Big deal, huh? A lousy half hour. You think he can spare it?"
"I didn't see Kincaid. Why didn't he stop by my office and tell me to knock off?"
Penelope shrugged. "How do I know, lover? Maybe he figured you'd be too busy to want to leave early. After all, you are the young genius with the brilliant future around here. Super ad executive, remember?"
"Another funny," said Brad, unable to keep from smiling at his sexy young secretary, who today was attired in a frilly white peasant blouse with ruffled sleeves and an eye-popping blue mini skirt so short as to be an invitation to rape. He felt his pecker stirring in his slacks.
Penelope closed the office door and walked to Brad's desk. She stood for a moment smiling down at him, her beautiful brown eyes twinkling mischievously. Then, without so much as a word, she started to undo the buttons on her blouse.
"And what do you think you're doing, Miss Rogers?" asked a not-too-surprised Brad.
"It's Ms., remember?" said Penelope. "Not Miss."
"All right, I stand corrected, Ms. Rogers. But I repeat, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
"What's it look like I'm doing, Mr. Latham?"
"Don't be a wise guy, Penny," smiled Brad. "Or I'll have you replaced by a computer."
"Never happen," the five foot five inch, one hundred and twenty pound package of sex appeal shot back, slipping the blouse off her creamy-smooth shoulders to reveal a pair of braless boobs. "I'm too valuable around here." 'Think so, do you?"
"I know so. I can do things no computer in the whole world can do."
"Name one," said Brad, grinning now.
"Get fucked in the ass," said Penelope, grinning back at her immediate superior.
Brad chuckled softly. "Well, I must admit you have a point there, Ms. Rogers. Is that why you brought your saucy bottom in here-to get it fucked again?"
Penelope, naked from the waist up, started to fumble with the button and zipper at the side of her obscenely short mini. "Well, I thought since we were all alone...."
"We may as well enjoy ourselves," said Brad, finishing his almost always hot-to-trot secretary's sentence for her.
"Exactly. You have no objections, do you, lover?"
Brad smiled. "None that I can think of, you hot-assed little minx."
"Good. My poor little asshole is just itching something awful."
"I fucked it for you last Friday, remember?"
"I know," said Penelope, lowering her skirt, "but a girl can't be assfucked too often, you know."
"You should tell that to my wife," said Brand, his smile fading a little.
The saucy brunette with the eye-popping figure stepped out of her skirt and flipped it onto Brad's cluttered, glass-topped desk, where a moment ago she deposited her frilly blouse. "Still no luck, huh? That's a real shame."
"I tongued her ass Sunday night."
"For the first time?" Brad nodded.
"Well, that's a step in the right direction, lover," opined Penelope, balancing first on one foot and then the other as she took off her shiny white shoes. "Did she enjoy it or what?"
"She tolerated it," answered Brad, rising from the comfortable chair behind his desk.
"Maybe she liked it more than she was willing to admit. That could be, you know."
Brad considered this possibility and rejected it as he walked to his office door. He locked the door and then started toward Penelope, who by this time was wriggling eel-like out of her sheer panty-hose. He was about to undo the knot in his solid green tie when Penelope suggested he draw the blinds.
"And just who do you think might peek in the window?" asked the thirty year old advertising executive. "We're on the fourteenth floor, remember?"
"No sense in taking any chances, lover," smiled Penelope. "I remember what happened to a girlfriend of mine."
"So what did happen?"
Penelope worked the panty-hose around and off her feet and then tossed the combination briefs and stockings onto the desk with her other things. "Well," she began, bare-assed naked now, "this girlfriend of mine was fucking a fella on the seventeenth floor of one of these monstrous high-rises. They were going at it hot and heavy on the living room floor, right? Well, all of a sudden she glances toward the huge picture window and, like pow, instant trouble."
Brad grinned. "Who did she see, King Kong?"
"Worse than that. She saw her husband."
"What?"
"That's right. Seems he had been suspicious of his wife for quite some time. Somehow or other he found out about this particular rendezvous she was going to have with her high-rise lover, so what he did was to dress up like a window-washer and-"
"Oh, Penny, for crying out loud."
"No, it's true, Brad. Honest injun. This fella was willing to go to any lengths to catch his wife red-handed."
"The guy has to be off his rocker," opined Brad, turning away from his naked secretary as he started for the large window behind his desk.
"Maybe, but what he did worked. When his wife returned horn, he gave her such a beating that she spent almost two months in a hospital. I don't think Jane talks to anyone now without first getting her husband's permission."
Still smiling, Brad drew the blinds. Only Penelope, he thought, would know a couple of kooks like this Jane and her nutty husband. She herself, of course, was something of a kook. Long before women's liberation came along to raise everybody's consciousness Penelope was praising independence, setting career goals, getting "involved" and asserting herself sexually. All women's lib had done for his saucy, sassy secretary was tell her that what she had been doing all along was just dandy and to keep it up.
Brad returned to where Penelope was standing and said, "There, happy now, you little nymph?"
The scrumptious brunette stepped close to Brad and then, with one of her sexiest smiles, as she placed her right hand on the bulge that had formed at the front of his brown slacks, "I'll be even happier, lover, when you get these stupid clothes off."
"Your wish, Ms. Rogers, is my command."
So saying, Brad proceeded to strip down for action. With Penelope watching, and fondling herself at the same time, he quickly, effortlessly, removed his tie, white shirt, shoes, slacks, socks, and tan boxer shorts, putting everything except his shoes on top of his desk. Then, when he was stark naked, his cock on the rise, he spread his arms in lewd invitation.
Penelope accepted the invitation without hesitation, one hand, her right, reaching out for Brad's swelling manhood as she stepped into his embrace. She titlted her head a little to the left, her soft, yielding lips locking with his firm, demanding ones in a wet, warm kiss. She moaned softly into Brad's mouth, their tongues entwining in sensuous, slippery embrace.
"Nice, very nice, Ms. Rogers," Brad said a moment later, his voice huskier than normal. "I think I'll have to re-consider what I said about replacing you with a computer."
Penelope smiled. "How about a blow-job, handsome? Are you in the mood?"
"What do you think, baby?"
"I think you're in the mood."
With that, the bouncy brunette with the fuckable fanny dropped to her knees in front of Brad. She proceeded to fondle his warm genitals, using her right hand to stroke and otherwise tease his now almost fullyerect cock while her left hand cupped and carefully squeezed his hairy scrotal sac.
"Go ahead, Penny, sick it like a good girl. Put it in your mouth and suck it."
"Mmm, my pleasure, lover," purred Penelope. "I've been thinking about this all day."
"If you do me good," smiled Brad, "I'll screw your behind for you."
Penelope looked up at her immediate superior. "You'll fuck my fanny even if I do a lousy job, Mr. Latham."
Brad chuckled softly. He knew she was right.
Now, without further ado, the sinful secretary who loved it up the old dirt road plunked one of her favorite cocks into her yawning mouth. And then she was sucking that cock, savoring its fleshy fullness, its slightly salty taste. Adding to her pleasure, making this fellatio even more enjoyable, was the delightfully wicked realization that the beautiful prick in her mouth would soon be chugging up her mucky shit chute.
"That's the ticket, beautiful," Brad huseed, looking down at the brunette eyeful gobbling his root. "Suck it nice, Penny. Take it all in your mouth, baby."
Happily, shamelessly, Penelope worked on the turgid tool destined for her derriere, her pursed lips sliding wetly, smoothly, from bulbous head to hairy base and back again. She kept her right hand on Brad's left thigh while her left, which was still between his legs, lovingly massaged his hot, hairy balls.
"Mmmmm, that's what I like, beautiful," crooned Brad. "Keep sucking, Penny. Harder now. Faster."
Refusing to be rushed, Penelope continued her methodical sucking of Brad's delicious dong, her head bobbying slowly, rhythmically, up and down as she labored with the expertise and controlled enthusiasm expected of one well-versed in the art of fellatio. There was only one thing the highly-sexed beauty appreciated more than a good-looking pecker in her mouth. That, of course, was a good-looking pecker in her ass.
Brad now brought his hands to his sucking secretary's head and lifted her shoulder-length hair away from her face, the better to see his already glistening cock sliding in and out of her hungry mouth. It was, he thought, a thrilling sight-almost as thrilling as watching his blood-fattened tool saw in and out of Penelope's delectable postierior.
"You love to suck cock, don't you, baby? You can't get enough of it."
"Gnnnngh...." Penelope groaned around the thick prick in her mouth.
Brad grinned. "Mustn't talk with your mouth full, Ms. Rogers."
"Gnnnngh...." Penelope groaned again.
A moment later the cuddlesome doll with the big brown eyes accelerated the tempo of the fellatio. She started to suck with more abandon, her ovaled lips sliding faster over the smooth, saliva-coated cock soon to be crammed balls deep inside her behind. As licentious thoughts filled her head, she straightened the longest finger of the hand playing with Brad's pendulous scrotal sac and placed it at his anus.
"Good idea, sweetheart," rasped Brad. "Stick it up my ass. All the way up."
Penelope did just that, her finger curling slightly as she worked it, quickly but carefully, up into her handsome partner's backside. And then, continuing to suck Brad's tasty tool, she started moving the long, thin digit in and out of his ass, thereby augmenting his pleasure.
Shit, but she was something else, thought Brad, still looking down at the kneeling brunette now hungrily, greedily, gobbling his manhood. He wondered, with just a trace of jealousy, how many hot cocks had found their way into his shapely secretary's sweet, knowing mouth. And, even more importantly, how many had found their way into her succulent seat.
Not that it really mattered, he told himself. All he cared about was Penelope's availability, the fact that she was always at his disposal, ever ready to open wide for his cock or spread her beautiful cheeks for same. It made no difference how many boyfriends she had, just so long as she remained at his beck and call. He wanted to be able to depend on Ms. Rogers' dazzling derriere.
For two minutes more Penelope labored on Brad's sparkling joystick, her head bobbing rapidly as she sucked with sluttish delight, with unmitigated pleasure. Greedily she gobbled, her finger still pistoning in and out of Brad's ass and serving as obscene accompaniment to the feverish fellatio.
And then, finally, she relingished her obscene hold on the glistening hard-on, the plum-shaped crown of Brad's well-sucked organ leaving her pursed lips with a lewd "plopping" sound as she pulled her head back, away from his aroused genitals. At the same time she took her finger out of his bottom.
"Ready now for that assfucking?" asked Brad, his voice thick with lust.
"More than ready," Penelope hastened to answer. "But I want to do something first."
"What's that, baby?"
"Turn around and I'll show you."
Brad smiled a wicked smile. "Sure you want to take the time?"
"Positive. Now be a good boy and turn around for me."
Releasing his secretary's hair, Brad did an about face and then bent over, placing his hands on his knees as he presented Penelope with his well-formed ass. This was not the first time he had assumed such a position. In fact, he assumed it just about every time Penelope visited him for the purpose of sex. His sexpot secretary had the appetite of ten when it came to eating out an ass.
"Yes, that's good," Penelope said thickly. "Yes, indeed."
"It's yours to enjoy, sweetheart," Brad hused, looking back at the female staring at his behind. "Go to it."
Go to it Penelope did, with nyphomanical enthusiasm. Placing her hands on Brad's flanks, she attacked his posterior as if it were a choice piece of beef. Her tongue darted out of her mouth to commence a wold, lascivious licking of that nicely-shaped bottom, to bathe it with sticky saliva.
First one buttock and then the other was treated to an obscene bath, Penelope being very careful not to miss a single square inch of flesh as she scoured Brad's taut ass with her never still tongue. And then, as was to be expected, she zeroed in on her partner's asshole.
"Time for dessert, is it?" asked Brad when he felt his cheeks being pried apart by his secretary's thumbs.
"That comes later," breathed Penelope, obviously very excited. "When you shove your cock into my fucking behind. This is just ... just the appetizer."
"Well enjoy it, sweetheart. Enjoy it."
Needless to say, the brown-eyed beauty had every intention of doing just that. There was something about tonguing a man's shithole that thrilled her to pieces. Just the thought of prying apart a guy's hairy buttocks and sticking her tongue as deep as possible into his fanny was enough to quicken her pulse and start her heart beating fast. She enjoyed performing analingus almost as much as she enjoyed having it performed on her.
Like a girl, with a mission she now laid seige to Brad's brown asshole, her tongue seeing action once again as she commenced a wholly obscene laving of that puckered port. Up and down and all around she licked, bathing the anus itself as well as the surrounding flesh. She inhaled deeply, let her nostrils fill with the odor she found positively exciting, altogether stimulating.
"Eat me out, you hot-assed little doll," ordered Brad, the feel of Penelope's mouth on his anus combining with the realization that he'd soon be cornholding her to keep his well-sucked cock rock-hard and ready. "That's it. Dig that tongue way in there. Get it all in, baby."
"Mmmm ... so good," cooed Penelope between licks. "I love ... love to do this."
"Does it taste good?"
"Delicious-wonderful."
"And does it smell good?" 'Terrific."
"I'll do you later, all right?"
"If you like. Mmmm, let me get it all inside you. Nnnngh...."
Having plunged her tongue as far as it would go into Brad's smelly ass, Penelope wiggled it around for a few seconds and then, in obscene simulation of sodomy, began pistoning it in and out of his rectum. Her own asshole was really itching now, twitching in eager anticipation of being cruelly stretched by a wonderfully thick, delightltfully hard ramrod of a prick.
Brad 'suffered" his secretary's teasing tongue for as long as he could, until the need to jam his meaty cock all the way up her saucy backside could no longer be denied. He straightened up suddenly and, almost in the same motion, turned to face the kneeling brunette. He helped her to her feet and then, in what was more a growl than anything else, ordered her to turn around and bend over for the fuck she craved.
Penelope was only too happy to oblige. With the taste of her partner's anus lingering on her lips she turned so that her back was toward him. Then, quickly, she bent over and grabbed hold of her knees, the flesh of her fuckable fanny tightening as she pushed it up for penetration.
"Now reach back and spread your cheeks," ordered Brad.
Again the cuddlesome brunette hastened to obey, her hands moving quickly from her knees to her oft-fucked bottom Latching onto her buttocks, she pulled those creamy half-moons of flesh apart and exposed the puckered port of her anus.
"All right, sweetheart, brace yourself," said Brad, his eyes feasting on the wholly obscene pose his luscious secretary had willingly assumed.
"Do it to me, lover," breathed Penelope. "Get it in my ass. Fuck me hard, Brad."
"You want me to use the vaseline?"
"No. I don't need it. Your cock is wet enough."
"It's in my desk drawer. It'll take just a-"
"I said it wasn't necessary, lover. Now just shove that cock up my behind, dammit!"
The most dedicated monk would have found it difficult to ignore such a fantastically wicked command. Brad, the hedonist, found it altogether impossible. Not that he was of a mind to do anything but bugger his analerotic of a secretary. He was ready, more than ready, to experience once again the perverse pleasure of sodomy.
Quickly, his blood-fattened cock throbbing impatiently, he took up a position directly behind Penelope.
"Please, Brad," whined the lust-soaked beauty, "get that thing in me. Ram it up my fucking ass!"
CHAPTER FOUR
Gripping his tumuscent pecker with his right hand, Brad steered it to Penelope's inviting nether hole. A little whimper of anticipation tumbled from the aroused female's lips when she felt the bulbous head of Brad's bloated organ wedge between her taut, quivering buttocks.
Placing his hands on his secretary's hips, now began pushing himself inside her pert posterior, the swollen crown of his cock straining against the resisting ring of flesh that was her pretty anus. Penelope pushed back instinctively, her hands tightening on her buttocks as she attempted to pry those heavenly hillocks even further apart and thus make penetration that much easier.
"Just shove it in there, lover," the excited brunette pleaded in a deep, breathy voice. "Ram it into my ass!"
Brad exerted greater pressure and, not surprisingly, Penelope's oft-stretched anus yielded to his fleshy prod, a cry of pain bursting from his secretary's throat when the fat head of his root popped into her posterior. And then he was inching his way inside the clammy confines of Penelope's bottom, his turgid prick tunneling slowly but purposefully through the muck of her rectum.
The beauteous brunette let go of her impaled ass and again locked her hands onto her knees. She lifted her head until she was looking straight ahead, her face continuing to register discomfort as Brad's bloated manhood burrowed deeper and deepeT into her dank after passage.
"Not much more, baby," Brad rasped, staring down at the obscene point of connection.
"I-I want it all. All of it, you hear?"
"Does it hurt?"
"It's good. It hurts good."
With his hands now clasping Penelope's shapely hips Brad pushed a little more of his swollen pecker inside her behind. Almost as thrilling as the feel of her rectum hugging his invading cock was the sight of her horribly distended anus. How utterly delightful it was, he thought, to gaze upon that once niggardly aperture stretched to more than twice its normal size by his swollen prick.
'Is-is it all in?" breathed the saucy brunette.
Brad took a deep breath and then, with a wicked thrust, plunged the last inch or so of his manhood into Penelope's ass. He was in now to the balls, his turgid tool resting in the dark, cloying confines of his secretary's oft-reamed shit chute. "It's all in, beautiful," was his superfluous announcement.
"Shit, it feels so good. So fucking good, Brad."
"Darn right it does, sweetheart. I'll never tire of fucking your sweet fanny."
"It's yours to fuck, lover. Any time, anywhere."
Brad emitted a throaty chuckle. He was willing to bet she said much the same thing to all her sex partners.
"Go ahead, Brad, so it to me now. Ream out my shitty bottom."
"My pleasure, baby. My pleasure."
With that, the handsome young ad executive and fanny-fetishist began working his bloated pecker in and out of his happy secretary's dank rectal canal, his hands tightening on her hips as he established a steady, methodical piston-like motion. He would slide his blood-thickened cock all the way inside Penelope's alabaster ass, then, almost reluctantly, withdraw until only the knobby head remained sheathed by her clasping anus, and then again push deep inside her swampy back passage.
"Oh yes, that's what I want, over. Do me dirty, Brad."
Brad was happy to note, as he had in the past, that Penelope's ass was still nice and tight and provided a delightfully snug harbor for a man's hard-on. This despite the fact that she had undoubtedly accepted into her bottom more pricks than she could remember. He wondered, half-seriously, if she had discovered some kind of exercise to strengthen the elasticity of her shit chute.
"More, Brad. Do it harder. Faster."
Not one to turn down a lady's request, Brad accelerated the tempo of his thrusts into Penelope's delectable behind. Once again he looked down, at the obscene point of connection, his eyes feasting on the wholly enjoyable sight of his shit-flecked cock sawing in and out of his secretary's enlarged asshole.
Penelope, staring down now at the carpeted floor, her hands still gripping her knees for support, grunted and groaned with perverse delight as she thrilled to the feel of her partner's rock-hard pecker churning in her mucky after passage. Convinced was she that nothing, absolutely nothing, could compare to the gut-jumbling pleasure of a good assfuck.
The initial pain had disappeared, her rectum expanding quickly, efficiently, to accommodate its fleshy visitor. Only pleasure remained, demonic pleasure, the wickedly wonderful feeling of fullness back there. She was stuffed with hot, throbbing cock, thought Penelope. Her fanny was chock full of cock! And that beautiful cock was moving in her, stretching her rectum and stirring her turds so nicely.
"You really love this, don't you, baby?" husked Brad, not missing a beat as he continued reaming his secretary's rectum with smart, well-timed thrusts of his bloated tool.
"I-I love it," answered Penelope in a trembly voice. "More than anything."
"You're a perverted bitch, Ms. Rogers."
"I'm your kind of bitch, Mr. Latham."
An evil grin blanketed Brad's rough-hewn countenance. It was at times like this, when he was hard at work fucking an attractive woman's bottom, that he let surface those strange and somewhat disturbing sadistic impulses he was careful to keep deeply submerged the rest of the time. By no means did he consider himself a male chauvinist, yet when he was sodomizing a girl, listening to her happy grunts and moans of pleasure, there came over him the urge to humiliate that girl, to extract from her an admission of unworthiness, to punish her, even, for enjoying the unnatural invasion of her ass. .
Thus it was that he now growled, "Tell me what I'm doing to you, baby. Go on, tell me."
"You're fucking me," was Penelope's quick answer.
"And where am I fucking you, bitch?"
"In my ass. You're fucking me in the ass."
"In your shitty ass?"
"Y-Yes. In my shitty ass."
"You want it harder, don't you?"
"Yes."
"And faster."
"Yes, please. Oh, please...."
"That's right, ask me nicely."
"I am, lover. Please fuck me harder. Hurt me, dammit!"
Brad snorted and then again picked up the pace, a sudden brutal thrust of his hips driving his swollen cock to the hilt in Penelope's quivering derriere. He withdrew quickly, then plunged back inside his secretary's ass, his fleshy sword of a prick knifing between her smooth, taut buttocks and slashing up into her dank, dark rectum.
If Penelope felt she was being used in any way or disliked the dominating attitude Brad inevitably struck when he cornholed her, she certainly didn't make it known. What she did do was start ramming her fuckable fanny back at Brad, savage grunts of perverse pleasure popping from her lips as she tossed her tail back to greet the cock he sent smashing into it.
"Fuck it, lover! Ffffffuck it! Split my ass for me!"
"You sweet fucking bitch," barked Brad. "More D-Don't stop. Fuck my ass, you bastard!"
With satanic delight Brad hammered his shit-flecked cock into Penelope's creamy-smooth behind, her gutteral moans and breathless pleas for an even more savage sodomizing like music to his ears as he whipped his weapon up into her stretched shit chute. Again and again he slammed his meat into his secretary's ass, viscious thrust following viscious thrust in rapid, merciless succession.
Needless to say, the brunette beauty was in seventh heaven. She took all Brad gave her and asked for more, her shoulder-length hair flying around her lust-twisted face as she kept her head in constant motion while shoveling her ass up and back in obscene welcome to his hard-thrusting cock.
Breathing hard, perspiration beading his brow, Brad continued the savage assault, his rampaging rod plumbing the very depths of Penelope's foul bowels. He was determined, or so it seemed, to bust his secretary's saucy bottom, to stretch her rectum to the point where it could accommodate a donkey's cock without trouble.
"M-More," growled Penelope. "Screw it good, you bastard!"
"I'm going to come, cunt! You hear me?"
"C-Come. Come in my dirty ass!"
Some fifteen seconds later, after a final flurry of mind-bending thrusts into the brunette's ravaged rear end, Brad shot his hot, creamy load, the syrupy semen blasting from his dirtied dick into her aching and royally reamed after passage. He threw back his head and emitted a heathenish moan of pleasure, his fingers digging hard into the pliant flesh of Penelope's hips as he pumped her posterior full of scalding come.
The eruption in her rectum triggered a joyous moan from Penelope. For the umpteenth time she experienced the perverse thrill of having her backside filled to overflowing with semen. She could feel Brad's happy prick throbbing in her rectal canal, spewing glob after glob of mucky come into her. Shivering from head to toe, she squeezed her rectum around the ejaculating erectile in an attempt to milk it bone dry.
Only when the last of his gooey seed and been desposited inside Penelope's well-stretched shit chute did Brad release her hips and step back, his shit-flecked tool plopping out of her distended asshole as he broke the unnatural connection. Panting, he stumbled away from the still bent over beauty and on rubbery legs, his vision somewhat blurred, watched her sore anus wink shut.
Not many seconds later a tired but elated Penelope fell forward onto the carpeted floor, her hands leaving her knees and flying downward to break her fall. She remained like this, on all fours and breathing hard, for almost a full minute, staring down at the beige carpet as Brad's sticky come began trickling out of her sore, abused asshole.
Needing a place to rest, Brad turned away from his soundly sodomized secretary and made his way to the brown leather armchair sitting in one corner of his office. With a weary sign he dropped into the chair. He looked down into his lap, a small smile creeping over his face as he focused on his badly-stained manhood, which was now about as limp as it had been a couple of hours ago when sex was the furtherest thing from his mind. Incriminating evidence, he thought. One look at his messy, shit-flecked tool and a jury would convict him of buggery for sure.
Penelope now dragged herself up off the floor and moved slowly to where Brad sat contemplating his cock. "Thanks, lover," she said softly, smiling. "I needed that." chuckling, Brad looked up from his lap. "Always glad to be of service, sweetheart."
"Mind if I take a load off my feet?"
"What?"
"May I sit on your lap, Mr. Latham?"
"Oh, sure. Be my guest."
Penelope climbed into Brad's lap, draping her arms around his neck as she squirmed into a comfortable position. She winced a few times when her sore, aching asshole made contact with his left leg, upon which she finally, carefully settled her buttocks.
"Hurts a little, huh?" asked Brad, his right hand leaving the armrest of the chair to clamp onto Penelope's left tit.
"Hurts a whole lot," smiled the beauteous brunette. "But, as I say all the time, it was worth it. An aching anus is small enough price to pay for the kind of fucking you just gave me.
"You'll have to get out the pillow again," said Brad, referring to the small pink cushion he had purchased for his secretary eighteen months ago, a few days after fucking her fanny for the first time. The cushion, which Penelope kept in the lower left-hand drawer of her desk, was for her to sit on until the ache at her abused anus went away. Purchase of said cushion had been, Brad thought, a rather nice gesture on his part.
"I think some of the people in the office are getting a little suspicious," said Penelope. "I get a few knowing smiles every time I pull out my pillow."
Brad grinned. "How could anyone know what's going on between us? It could be that you suffer from hemorrhoids, right?"
Penelope chuckled. "That might just turn out to be the case if I continue to let you bugger me."
Brad gave his secretary's left boob a good squeeze. "You know you can't resist me, beautiful. Besides, your ass and my prick go together like a horse and carriage."
"They were made for each other, right?"
"You could say that," smiled Brad.
It was a minute or so later, after a moment's thought, that Penelope turned the conversation to her sister, Deborah, who, she informed Brad, was busy these days searching for a fellow to deflower her derriere.
"I didn't even know you had a sister," said Brad, somewhat surprised.
"Well I do. And she's a real beauty, too."
"As horny as her sister, I suppose."
"Hornier," grinned Penelope.
"That, beautiful, is rather hard to believe."
"Maybe so, but it's true. Deborah is what you might call a budding nymphomaniac."
"And just how old is this budding nympho?"
'Seventeen."
"Is that all?" asked Brad, his eyebrows arching.
"Uh huh. Deborah is young in years but very mature for her age. Although she tends to exaggerate when discussing her love life, I think it's safe to say that she's already fucked almost as many men as I have. Her panties, like mine, are perpetually hot."
Brad grinned. "I'll bet she's the most popular young lady at school."
Penelope nodded. "The boys are always sniffing around her, if that's what you mean. Debby turns down more dates in a week than most girls her age bet in a month."
Continuing to fondle his secretary's left tit, Brad said, "So how come if she's so popular she can't find a boy to break in her bottom? Not only that, but if Debby is as hot-to-trot as you say she is, how come she hasn't yet been cornholed?"
"The answer to your second question, lover, is that Debby can't shake out of her mind the idea that penetration of her ass will be horribly painful. And that, I suppose, answers your first question too. Finding a boy to break in her fanny isn't difficult, but she's looking for one who'll make the experience as painless as possible. A lot of the guys she knows would jump at the chance to fuck her ass, but she says she can't trust them to be gentle. Bill Jones, for instance, told her-"
"Billy Jones," interrupted Brad. "Who's he?"
Penelope smiled. "The best-looking jock at school, that's who. According to Debby, Billy is studying sex and sports-in that order."
"Which is more or less what I did when I was his age," Brad admitted with a smile. "Why doesn't your sister let him do the honors?"
"Because, as I started to tell you, Billy is a rough and tumble sort of guy who likes to just hop on a girl and bang away."
"So? Kids his age are like that. They all learn technique in time."
"Sure, but what happens to my poor sister when Billy flips her over onto her stomach and rams his thick cock up in her virgin ass in one brutal thrust?"
"Exactly. And that's the reason young Mr. Jones is not going to be the first to fuck Debby's behind."
"Spoken like a girl who really cares about her sister."
"Sure I care, lover. I don't want to see Debby get hurt."
"Well, I wish her all the luck in the world, beautiful. Maybe she'll come across a nice, quiet, gentle type who just happens to be interested in her fanny."
Penelope smiled. "Come on, Brad, you can do better than that."
"Better than what?"
"Better than just wishing my sister good luck."
"I don't understand what you're getting at, baby."
Penelope sighed. "Boy, are you thick, Mr. Latham. Why do you think I mentioned my sister and her search for a guy to break in her bottom? I wasn't just making conversation, you know."
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"Why not, lover? I mean, you'd be just perfect for Debby. I can't think of anyone better suited to introduce her to the pleasure of anal sex. What with your experience and all
"But she doesn't know me from Adam," said Brad. "I'm a perfect stranger to her."
"Mmm, not exactly," smiled Penelope.
"Not exactly? What do you mean by that?"
"Well, it just so happens that I've told my sister a lot about you. And would you believe she's interested in meeting you? In fact, she all but turns green with envy every time I mention the great sex we enjoy in your office."
"You told her sister that we ball in my office?"
Penelope shrugged. "Why not? Debby isn't going to come up here and make trouble for us."
"Let's hope not. If Kincaid were to find out' that we mess around on his time...."
"Oh, Brad, you're talking foolish. That'll never happen and you know it. Now come on, what do you say?"
"About what?"
"About playing teacher for Debby, of course. Are you interested in showing her what anal sex is all about or not?"
A moment of silence ensued as Brad turned the idea over in his mind. Were he to be brutally honest, he thought, he would have to admit that the prospect of fanny-fucking a spunky teen-ager did indeed interest him. In fact, it interested him a great deal.
He had not cornholed a teen-age female in many a moon. The last really young chick to feel his cock churning in her bottom had been a girl by the name of Amanda Winston, whom he had met while driving home from work one night last year. Tough-talking Amanda, who said she was sixteen-year-old with the wanderlust would come to a sad end, for she would some day accept a ride from a freaked-out creep who got his kicks torturing young girls. If she hadn't already.
"Just think of it," said Penelope, smiling warmly as she carressed the right side of Brad's face, her fingers brushing against his ear, teasing the lobe. "Debby's beautiful young bottom has ever been touched. She's a virgin back there, Brad. A lovely young thing whose fanny has never been fucked. Doesn't that appeal to you, lover?"
"You know darn well it does," smiled Brad, feeling his pecker stir under Penelope. "I haven't deflowered a derriere since high school."
"All right, so here now is your chance. And Debby would be so grateful, Brad. Really she would."
"And what about her sister?"
"Me? What about me?"
"Are you sure you won't be jealous if I bugger Debby?"
Penelope chuckled softly. "Of course not. On the contrary, lover, it would make me very happy to watch you break in my sister's ass. All I ask is that you take it nice and easy with her."
"You have my word on that," said Brad, tweaking the nipple on his secretary's left breast.
"Then you'll do it?"
Brad chuckled. "You talked me into it, Penny."
"Oh, thanks a million, lover," said Penelope, bubbling over with gratitude. She planted her full, ripe lips on Brad's and gave him a big, wet, sloppy kiss, then, "I'll tell Debby the good news as soon as I get home. Shell be tickled pink, I know it."
"Is Debby living with you?" asked Brad.
"Uh huh. For a few weeks, anyway. She phoned me last week and asked if she could stay in my apartment while she explored the Big Apple. Naturally, I gave her the okay."
"Naturally. This is her first time in New York, huh?"
"It is that. She's so excited, too. And getting fucked in the ass for the first time is going to make her visit here that much more memorable. Mmm, I can't wait to see her face when I tell the good news."
"You'd better have plenty of vaseline on hand, sweetheart."
"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of all the details."
"When do you suggest this deflowering take place?"
"Well, let's see now. How would this coming Saturday night be? Is that convenient for you?"
Brad shook his head. "I can't get out of the house on the weekends. I mean, what excuse would I give my wife?"
"You could say you were going to visit a friend-a male friend," suggested Penelope.
"Nope, it wouldn't work."
"Why not?"
"Because all our friends are married, that's why. Susan would be mighty suspicious if I told her I wanted to go somewhere all by myself."
"Well, then we'll just have to schedule the sodomizing of my sister for another night. How does Friday night grab you, lover?"
"That's much better. I suppose I could tell Susan that I had to work late at the office."
"Sure, no problem," grinned Peneope. "Friday night it is, then. At my apartment."
"Eight o'clock, all right?"
"Fine. Debby and I will be waiting for you with bells on."
Brad grinned. "I'll be sure to bring my cock."
Penelope chuckled. "Come without it, my friend, and we throw you out the door. Pronto."
Brad gave his saucy secretary's breast another good squeeze and suggested they had talked long enough about her sister and her sister's craving for a cornholing. It was time, he said, that they brought the conversation back to themselves. Better yet, to his on-the-rise manhood.
"I think you're trying to tell me something, Mr. Latham," said the beauteous brunette, her brown eyes twinkling merrily.
"I'm telling you I want a blow-job," smiled Brad.
Feigning shock, Penelope said, "You want me to put your thing into my mouth after it's been you know where? How dare you request such a filty act?"
Brad chuckled. "My request repulses you, does it?"
"It certainly does," answered Penelope, trying hard to keep a straight face.
"It makes you sick to your stomach?"
"It does."
"You've never been more shocked and disgusted in your whole life, right?"
"Right."
"But you'll do it anyway-as a favor to me."
The grin Penelope had been holding back now blossomed beautifully on her smooth, clear-complexioned face. "As a favor to you, you dirty old man. And because you fucked my ass so nice this afternoon."
With that, the pleasure-loving twenty-three-year-old slithered off Brad's lap and onto her knees in front of the leather armchair. Seconds later she was reaching for his badly stained manhood, her experienced mouth opening wide as she lowered her head into his lap. And then she was plopping the messy organ into her mouth, pushing it deep inside her oral cavity without so much as a twinge of revulsion.
"Taste good?" asked Brad, his hands gripping the ends of the armrests as he smiled down at the female kneeling between his legs and munching on his dirty dick.
"Mmmmm.,.." Penelope moaned around the swelling tool.
"Would you like me to come in your mouth, baby?"
Again the wicked beauty moaned.
"Then suck it, sweetheart. Suck your chocolate lollipop like a good little girl."
A minute later, with Penelope still sucking the tool that not very long ago had been firmly ensconced in her ass, gobbling it greedily, Brad tilted his head back onto the chair and closed his eyes. Deliciously filthy thoughts crept into his head. These thoughts had nothing to do with his secretary, or with the act she was performing at the moment? they centered instead on Penelope's kid sister, the hot-to-trot and annally-oriented Deborah Rogers.
Just the idea of fucking one so young was a fantastic turn-on. Adding to the pleasure of anticipation, however, making it that much sweeter, was the fact-and he had no reason to think it wasn't a fact-that Deborah had never allowed her rectum to be explored by a cock.
How utterly delightful it was going to be, Brad thought, when he entered that heretofore unviolated derriere, when he started his throbbing, blood-fattened pecker moving in the dark, clammy confines of young Debby's never reamed after passage. He could visualize the scene in his mind; Penelope's eager but nervous sister bare-assed naked and in bed, you young body in obscene crouch, head down, bottom up, whimpers of pleasure-pain tumbling from her lips as he rooted in her rectum.
Yes, sir, he couldn't wait to get his mitts on that plump posterior!
CHAPTER FIVE
Quite understandably, Brad arrived home that night in high spirits. Not only had en enjoyed, yet another time, the taut, creamy-smooth splendor of his hump-happy secretary's ass, he had the fucking of his secretary's sister's virginal young bottom to look forward to.
He made it a point, however, to act natural in front of Susan, to behave as if this Tuesday had been more or less like any other, a day of modest successes and minor failures which, befitting an up and coming advertising executive, he had taken in stride. So it was that when Susan asked him over dinner what kind of a day he'd had, he answered simply, "All right. You know, the usual."
"Just the usual? Didn't anything exciting happen?"
Brad looked up from his plate. Now what the hell did that mean, he wondered. Was she suspicious? No, of course not. How could she be? Susan didn't have the foggiest idea of what went on between him and his secretary. To the best of her knowledge, he had never laid another woman during their marriage. Damn his guilty conscience, anyway.
"Wasn't it today that you were going to make that important presentation to the Clarkston people?" asked Susan, elaborating.
"Oh, you mean that new ad campaign I've been working on," said Brad, a sense of relief flowing through him.
"Of course. What else would I be talking about?"
Brad forced a smile and then, after explaining to his wife that the client had phoned to postpone the presentation, resumed eating. One of these days, he promised himself, he was going to learn how to cheat on Susan without feeling guilty about it. After four years of messing around behind her back, fanny-fucking others because he wasn't allowed the pleasure of her posterior, it was high time he shed all the infantile anxiety that invariably followed one of his extra-marital sex sessions. Hell, it was Susan's fault that he took what came his way on the outside. If she didn't have these prissy ideas about anal sex ... ,.
The rest of the evening was spent in comparative silence as Susan, after doing the dishes, joined her husband in the living room to watch television. At eleven o'clock, Brad informed his wife that he was tired and that he was going to bed. Susan remained curled in the sofa for another hour, thinking.
Wednesday came and went with nothing out of the ordinary occurring. Brad spent the better part of Thursday in conference with Matthew Kincaid, his shrewd, no nonsense boss, the two discussing how they might lure a highly successful soft drink company to Kincaid Associates, Inc. Susan did a little house cleaning and then went grocery shopping. She was home again by two in the afternoon, and from two until it was time to prepare dinner she mulled over what she considered her husband's curious behavior of late.
By the time Brad left for work Friday morning, Susan had made up her mind to visit her next door neighbor, Loretta Danton. Although the two were not close friends in the strictest sense, Suzan figured that if anybody could help her it was Loretta. What she needed was information and advice, and maybe a reassuring slap on the shoulder, a little something to convince her that she was right in not permitting Brad anal intercourse.
Bothering her more than anything was Brad's silence, the fact that, for reasons she could not fathom, he was so incommunicative all of a sudden. It was as if she had committed some great offense, and now, because she needed to be punished, Brad was giving her the silent treatment, refusing to discuss with her even the most mundane happenings of the day.
It could be, she thought, that he was just tired, that his present mood had not been brought on by anything she had said or done but was simply the result of constant pressure at the office. Still and all, she couldn't put out of her mind the thought that his silence, his reluctance to confide in her, had something to do with her denying him access to her bottom.
But was this really a satisfactory explanation? After all, Brad had never before turned so quiet on her. It wasn't like him to hold a grudge or pout for long periods of time.
True, he wasn't exactly Mr. Happiness after one of their arguments about anal sex, but he didn't lock her out of his life either. And he didn't refrain from making love to her, as had been the case this week. Not since Sunday night had they made love.
And what about Sunday night? Nothing had transpired that night could have caused Brad to withdraw into himself. Had they argued violently about anal sex, she could have reasoned that his reluctance to talk to her had to do with his just being fed up with her stubbornness. But they hadn't argued anymore than usual. In fact, and this made his present behavior even more difficult to understand, Brad has succeeded, for the first time in their marriage, in arousing her to the point where she was forced to submit to a tonguing of her behind and anus. So one would think that instead of ignoring her, he would be trying his level best to take advantage of the important ground gained Sunday night.
It was a confused Susan who, at ten-thirty Friday morning, took herself next door to visit Loretta Danton, the one person she thought might be able to clear up that confusion. Loretta, an outspoken, opinionated, titian-tressed beauty of twenty-nine, met her at the front door and, since it was time for a mid-morning coffee break, ushered her into the kitchen.
In no time at all Susan found herself sitting at Loretta's kitchen table, sipping the coffee the fun-loving redhead had served her and wondering if, now that she was actually here, she'd have the nerve to broach the subject of anal sex and her suddenly incommunicative husband.
"So how's the world been treating you?" asked Loretta, a broad smile blanketing her freckled face. "Anything new or exciting happen that I should know about?"
"No, not really," answered Susan, forcing a smile. "You know how it is, one day is pretty much like the other."
"Don't I know it. Mapleville is not exactly the swingingest community in the country, is it?"
"It's nice, though. I like the suburbs."
"But everything is the same here, Susan. It's all so picture postcard perfect, if you know what I mean. So unreal. Everybody has a house, a car, a couple of kids, and a penchant for outdoor barbecues on the weekends. I swear, there are times when I think I'm the only one around here with problems."
"I, er, have a problem," Susan said haltingly.
"Oh?"
"I dropped by this morning because ... well, because I thought you might be able to help me."
Loretta smiled. "I'll certainly do my very best, Susan. Just keep in mind, though, that I'm no expert when it comes to marital problems."
"How did you know that mine was a marital problem?"
The titian-haired beauty chuckled. "Maybe I'm psychic, Susan. Or maybe I think the only real probeem a suburban housewife can have is her husband. Now tell me, has that handsome hunk of yours started to drink?"
"No, it's nothing like that. Brad drinks in moderation."
"All right, then your problem has to be sexual in nature." Again Loretta smiled. "What's the matter, Susan, isn't Brad giving you enough these days?"
"Enough?"
"Enough cock, silly. Has he been working too hard lately to fuck you properly?"
"No, that's not it," answered Susan, wondering if she had been wrong in thinking that her outspoken, uninhibited neighbor would provide intelligent counsel. Loretta was really her opposite. Brash, brimming with confidence, shocked by nothing, Loretta didn't exactly give the impression that she was one of life's more sensitive, compassionate souls. About the only thing they had in common was an attractive exterior. That and a reasonable intelligence. It was this difference in their personalities that had prevented them from becoming really close friends.
"So then what's the problem?" asked Loretta, after sipping a little more of her coffee. "I mean, if you're getting enough good sex...."
"Maybe I'm getting too much," Susan said thoughtfully. "What I mean is, Brad-"
"Too much sex? Don't tell me you're complaining about that. Hell, Susan, a gal can't get enough hard prick."
"You didn't let me finish, Loretta. What I started to say was that Brad likes a lot of variety in his sex."
"And that's bad?" asked the redhead, griniing.
"It is when he demands something I find abhorrent," Susan answered a little testily.
"And what, pray tell, could that possibly be? In my opinion anything two people do together in bed is justifiable-providing, of course, that both parties derive pleasure from the act."
"Now you sound just like Brad. He's forever telling me the same thing."
"Well, he happens to be right, Susan," opined Loretta.
"I don't think so. There are some things, some sexual acts, that are just ... well, just wrong, that's all."
"Name one," grinned the uninhibited redhead.
Susan hesitated, then, mustering her nerve, "Anal sex."
Loretta fixed her blonde neighbor with a look that was part surprise, part incredulity She started to chuckle, the chuckle developing rapidly into a full-fledged laugh.
"What's so funny about that?" asked Susan, her expression one of puzzlement.
"I'm ... I'm sorry, Susan," said Loretta, sandwiching her apology between two half-suppressed laughs. "I'm not laughing at you, believe me. It's just that ... that what you find so naughty I happen to love."
"You enjoy anal sex?"
Loretta nodded her head and chuckled a few more times. Then, bringing herself under control, she explained, "I think it's just the greatest, Susan. Absolutely the greatest. Nothing gives me as much sheer delight as a thick, powerful cock churning in my backside."
Susan set her coffee cup on the saucer and struggled to maintain her composure. This, she thought, was one for the books. How stupid of her to think that Loretta, ultra-liberated, sophisticated Loretta, would find anything but amusement in her total dislike of anal sex. She should have her head examined for coming to Loretta for advice...." and so deliciously-depraved," the grinning redhead was saying, her green eyes twinkling naughtily. "I can't get fucked in the ass enough, Susan. Believe me, I don't know what I'd do if it wasn't for Lance."
"Lance?"
Loretta nodded. "The delivery boy down at Pierce Brothers Supermarket. You've seen him there, I'm sure."
An image of Lance Cauler flashed into Susan's mind. He was a tall, lean, good-looking boy, seventeen, maybe eighteen years old, something of a flirt and, possibly because of this, popular with the ladies who shopped at Pierce Brothers. He smiled a lot, winked almost as often, and n general tried hard to ingratiate himself with the female customers.
"Can I trust you to keep a secret?" asked Loretta.
Susan nodded. Her curiosity had been aroused.
"Lance visits me regularly. Usually in the afternoons."
"He what?"
"Surprised, huh? Well, I kid you not, Susan. Lance and I have been making it for almost a year now."
"But what about Steve? How can you ... I mean...."
"Easy," said Loretta, her smile fading. "It's because of my oh-so-proper husband that I'm seeing Lance on the sly. For six long years I put up with Steve's stubborn refusal to fuck my fanny. I did everything but get down on my knees and beg him to act like a man and shove it up my ass. Well, one day I just decided to find myself a guy willing to oblige me. Imagine my surprise when that guy turned out to be a teen-age delivery boy."
"I-I can't believe it. I mean, Steve is such a wonderful man, Loretta. You once told me so yourself, remember?"
"Sure he's wonderful-everywhere but in bed, that is. He's good-natured, charming, considerate, and a good provider, but when it comes time to hit the sack and screw his wife silly he's a total washout."
"Just because he doesn't like anal sex."
"Because he refuses to make me happy in bed."
"That's the same thing, isn't it?"
Loretta shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose so."
Susan looked at her titian-haired next door neighbor. She still found it hard to believe that Loretta, free-spirited and gregarious though the woman was, had the audacity to mock her marital vow with Lance Caulder, who, she remembered, had tried on several occasions to get fresh with her. Steve was such a nice guy-much like Brad, for that matter, in that both were attractive, well-mannered, and seemingly devoid of faults-and appeared to be the ideal mate. How could Loretta fool around behind his back? Didn't she care if she busted up her marriage?
"It's really asmusing, isn't it?" said Loretta, intruding on Susan's thoughs. "I mean, here you are, with a husband tuned in to anal sex, and here I am, with a guy who thinks anal sex is only for weirdos and perverts. You know something, Susan, we could solve our problems by just switching mates."
"That's not very funny," said the blonde, frowning.
"Oh, come on, I was just being facetious. I have no intention of trying to steal Brad away from you-even though I now know how much he enjoys sodomy."
"I think it's time for me to leave," said Susan. "It's obvious you're not going to be of any help to me. We just don't see eye to eye on the subject and that's that."
"Wait a minute now. Maybe I can be of some help."
"I don't see how."
Loretta hesitated, then, deciding on the bold approach, "Why don't you watch Lance and I make love, Susan? I think it would do you a world of good."
"Are you serious?" asked an incredulous Susan, unable to believe she had heard right. "You must be crazy to make such a preposterous suggestion."
"I'm dead serious," insisted the titian-tressed eyeful. "The point is, you just might gain some appreciation of anal intercourse by watching Lance and I go at it. When you see with your own eyes how ecstatic I become-"
"That's the nuttiest idea I've ever heard," Susan broke in. "Why, I'd probably get sick to my stomach watching horn do that to you. It's out of the question, period."
Loretta smiled. "Come on now, Mrs. Latham, admit the truth. You're not all that repulsed by my suggestion. Your curiosity has been aroused. While I'm sure you're telling the truth when you say you loath anal sex, I'm also sure the idea of watching me get it in the butt holds a perverse fascination for you. Am I right or am I right?"
"You're wrong," said a defiant Susan. "Dead wrong."
But Loretta wasn't wrong, a fact Susan was forced to admit a few minutes later when, to her surprise, she found herself agreeing to drop by Loretta's house that night, around eight o'clock, to watch her neighbor get buggered by Lance, the delivery boy with the roving eye and, obviously, roving prick. Loretta's mention of the fact that her husband would be working late reminded Susan that she too would be eating alone, Brad having informed her, before leaving for the office this morning, that he would be home late as he had to entertain a very important client.
"Mmmm, it looks good enough to eat, my young friend," remarked Loretta, admiring the length of flesh dangling between Lance Caulder's legs. "Before we get down to business tonight, I think I'll treat you to a nice blow-job. Okay?"
The seventeen-year-old delivery boy grinned. "Help yourself, Mrs. Danton. I certainly don't have any objections."
"You better not have, fella," said Loretta, returning the boy's grin.
Trying to hide her embarrassment, Susan watched as her beautiful next door neighbor plunked herself down on the bed and motioned Lance into position. She had returned to Loretta's house at eight o'clock and now, twenty minutes later, she was playing the peeper in Loretta's bedroom, her attention focused on the two bare-assed naked people about to perform for her.
The wanton housewife with the long flaming hair and sparkling green eyes smiled up at her favorite delivery boy, who was standing now directly in front of her, his hands clamped onto his hips and an arrogant smile basking on his smooth, even-featured face. "I'm going to make it nice and gooey for you," she promised. "We want it good and wet for my ass, right?"
"Right, Mrs. Danton. The wetter the better."
Loretta took hold of Lance's flaccid pecker with her right hand and began fondling it. She brought her left hand between his legs and cupped his hairy scrotal sac, then proceeded to lift that pendulous pouch of warm flesh up and down, up and down, as if weighing a bag of nuts.
"I think you're teasing me," said Lance, still smiling.
"I'm doing no such thing," insisted Loretta. "I'm merely savoring the pleasure of anticipation."
Lance chuckled softly.
"You do such Brad's cock, don't you, Susan?" asked the pleasure-loving redhead, turning to look at the fully dressed woman standing at the foot of the bed.
"On occasion," answered the blonde in a low, barely audible voice.
"What was that?"
"On occasion," repeated Susan, raising her voice a bit.
Loretta smiled. "Well thank heavens for that. I was afraid you were denying your husband fellatio as well as anal sex."
Susan frowned. "I'm not the prude you think I am, Loretta. It just so happens that I enjoy sex-a lot."
"Like who doesn't?" quipped Lance.
"Yeah, like who doesn't?" said Loretta, a wicked grin lighting her face as she looked up at the cocky teen-ager.
Not many seconds later the titian-tressed eyeful plunked young Mr. Caulder's pecker into her mouth and started sucking it enthusiastically. With whorish abandon she worked to harden the sensitive organ, to ready it for her rectum, her beautiful head bobbing and weaving crazily as she performed.
"That's it, Mrs. Danton," smiled Lance. "Suck it hard. Make it long and thick for your ass.
Susan, still standing at the foot of the bed, watched the lewd proceedings with a curious mixture of revulsion and interest. Feeling like an intruder, an invited but not really welcome guest at a party, she wanted to make tracks for the comfortable confines of her own home and leave Loretta and Lance to their sexy shenanigans. She found, however, that she could not do so.
The sinful scene unfolding before her was, she realized reluctantly, as fascinating as it was repellent. Try as she might, she couldn't take that first step out of the bedroom. As if rooted to the spot she stood and stared, her eyes fixed on Loretta's mouth gobbling Lance's manhood. Never before had she witnessed the act of fellatio, or for that matter any other sex act, and the sight of Loretta slobbering over the delivery boy's swelling tool had an almost mesmerizing effect on her, impelling her to stay and watch and not run away.
"She just loves to go down on me," Lance informed Susan, intruding on the blonde's concentration. "I mean, she just can't seem to get enough of me, you know?"
Susan nodded dumbly, her eyes remaining rivited to the thickening cock sliding in and out of her neighbor's mouth.
"I'll bet you give great head, Mrs. Latham."
Susan looked at the seventeen-year-old grinning lewdly at her. While she found his arrogance most distasteful, she had to admit that he was a very good-looking boy. He was tall, about six foot one, and possessed a lean, hard body. His eyes, which seemed to look right through her, were the color of cinnamon, and coal black was the shaggy mop of hair adorning his head. It wasn't difficult, she thought, to imagine the girls chasing after Lance Caulder. Not that she herself would ever consider, even for a second, going to bed with him.
"Well, what about it, Mrs. Latham?" Lance persisted. "Do you give great head?"
"That's none of your business," Susan answered curtly.
The youth chuckled. "I'll bet you're a real ball of fire in bed-even if you don't take it up the ass."
Susan just glared at the teen-ager.
"And how come you don't like it that way, beautiful lady? Lots of gals do, you know."
"That's also none of your business, Mr. Caulder."
"Nope, I guess it isn't. But you just watch what happens when I slam my meat into your friend's behind. You'll see how much fun she gets out of ass-fucking!"
Ignoring the taunting youth, Susan turned her attention back to Loretta, who was still hard at work performing fellatio. She could see that her libidinous neighbor's feverish efforts were paying off, for Lance's prick was now almost fully erect. About six inches of glistening, columnar flesh slid wetly and smoothly between Loretta's tightly pursed lips.
"Yeah, just a little more now, Mrs. Danton," said Lance, again looking down at the green-eyed redhead seated on the bed. "Then it'll be all ready for your bottom."
Loretta gave it that little bit extra, strange slurping sounds of lust bubbling up from her throat and pushing out of her pecker-packed mouth as her wildly sucking lips lengthened Lance's cock by another few millimeters. And then, at last, she was ready-but not for a cornholing.
Yanking the youth's slippery, saliva-coated tool out of her mouth, she looked up at him and, in a breathless voice, "You'll spank me now, baby. You understand? I want my ass warmed real good before you fuck it."
"Loretta!" exclaimed Susan, unable to believe that her next door neighbor, a mature, fully-grown woman, would sillingly submit to a spanking-one administered by a seventeen-year-old boy.
"You just be quiet, Susan," breathed Loretta. "You're here for an education, remember?"
"But, Loretta, how can you let him-"
"Because I happen to enjoy getting my ass warmed," the titian-haired beauty broke in angrily. "Now shut up and try to learn something, will you?"
"Yeah," grinned Lance, "maybe you'll get turned on watching me whack away at your friend's fanny."
"You're sick-you're both sick."
Once again the urge to escape her surroundings struck Susan, and once again she discovered her feet unwilling to obey the command issued by her mind. Two opposing forces were working on her; the one pulling her toward the bedroom door, the other keeping her rooted to the floor. She wanted to go, to leave before things really got out of hand, but a voyeuristic impulse, the eerie, dulling need to witness Loretta's shameful spanking, prevented her from taking that all important first step.
And so Susan remained, her eyes locking onto Loretta as the hump-happy housewife who adored anal sex maneuvered into position for a spanking. Lyes wide, she watched Loretta assume a low, subservient crouch on the bed; the redhead arranging herself so that her head was down and her beautiful bottom up, on a line with the side of the mattress.
"Now give it to me, Lance," implored the excited female. "Hit me hard, you wonderful boy."
"One spanking coming up," grinned Lance, who had no qualms whatsoever about spanking women. In fact, it was his considered opinion, one reinforced by Loretta Danton, that every female secretly craved a good bottom-warming, a dozen or so smart smacks across the bare fanny serving to satisfy a lady's need to be dominated by a strong, forceful male.
With Susan acting as an audience of one, Lance quickly assumed what on another occasion he had referred to as his "spanking stance" behind the obscenely positioned Loretta. Then, standing behind her, to her left, he drew his right arm up over his shoulder and prepared to strike the first blow.
"N-No, don't!" Susan cried out, the words escaping her mouth before she could stop their flight.
"Will you shut up!" barked Loretta. And then, seconds later, "Let me have it, Lance honey. Beat on my ass for me. You know how much I love it."
"I sure do, Mrs. Danton. Brace yourself now."
"Hit me, baby. Spank me hard!"
Susan became rigid, her body tensing as if it was her ass about to feel the sting of Lance's hard hand. Lance delivered the first blow, a crisp, well-aimed, flat-of-the-hand slap across Loretta's rightass cheek and the blonde's gasp, the hissing intake of air, accompanied the shriek of pleasure-pain emitted by the titian-tressed vixen
"How's that for starters?" asked Lance, grinning lewdly as he raised his hand preparatory to administering the second swat.
"G-Good. Hard, Lance. You know what I want, lover."
"You want to be punished, don't you?"
"Yes. Punish me. Pun-aieee!"
"You've been a naughty girl, Mrs. Danton. You have to be punished for sucking my cock."
"Y-Yes. I have to be spanked. I-owww!"
"Push that ass way up there," ordered the teen-ager, enjoying himself to the fullest. "Give me a real good target."
Loretta did as directed, scrounging quickly into an even more demeaning crouch, her knees crawling up to her breasts as she shamelessly elevated her posterior while at the same time she burrowed her face deeper into the sheeted mattress. Then she was wagging her tail at Lance, inviting him to continue the spanking.
Good heavens, though Susan. She had never seen anything like this in her whole life. It was unbelievable!
CHAPTER SIX
"Spank me, baby," Loretta again begged. "Beat on my fucking behind!"
With obvious delight Lance set about obliging the lust-charged beauty. Again and again he struck her plush bottom and wrenched from her throat a moan of pleasure-pain. He alternated between her smooth, taut buttocks, smacking first one and then the other, those tempting hillocks of flesh turning a rosy red in short order as he saw to it that both felt the sting of his hand.
"Oh yes, that's what I need," moaned the titian-haired vixen with the penchant for the perverse. "Spank me hard, lover. Harder, dammit!"
"You won't be able to sit comfortably for a week," promised Lance. "And just wait till I shove my bone up your hot ass."
"Y-Yes, fuck my ass, Lance. Spank it and then fuck it."
"You wanted it harder, huh?"
"Yes, please."
"Like this?" Once again Lance raised his spanking hand high in the air, this time delivering an especially painful blow to Loretta's right buttock.
"Aieee!" shrieked the redhead, tears of joy trickling down her flushed face.
"And this?" Again the delivery boy struck, this time sending his right hand ripping through the air to land with a sharp "crackling" sound against Loretta's left buttock.
"Arrrrgh ... owwww...."
Susan, seemingly frozen in place, her body incapable of motion, stood transfixed with disbelief at the foot of the bed, her pretty blue eyes soaking up the obscene spectacle of her beautiful neighbor being soundly spanked by a seventeen-year-old. She knew it would be a long, long time before the memory of this perverse pummeling of Loretta's behind faded from her mind.
For the life of her she couldn't understand how Loretta, or anyone for that matter, could possibly derive pleasure from a spanking. It was such a demeaning, degrading experience, humiliating to the nth degree. Bad enough was it to be wal lopped when you were a child, but to suffer the gross indignity of a spanking when you were a mature adult....
But this, Susan realized, probably pleasured Loretta as much as the actual feel of Lance's hand striking her fanny. She enjoyed the shame, the humiliation, as well as the boy's hard hand banging against her ass. Just the idea of being punished for her "sins" no doubt turned Loretta on. And if that wasn't sick, she didn't know what was.
Susan recalled her husband's threat to spank her if she "didn't permit him the pleasure of analingus. She tried to imagine herself positioned like Loretta-an obscene, slave-like crouch, head down and cradled between her arms, her bare bottom offered up in shameless sacrifice-and found it impossible. Still and all, the beauteous blonde could not bring herself to leave her neighbor's bedroom, the sheer depravity of what she was witnessing keeping to the spot.
The eager-to-please Lance continued his methodical pummeling of Loretta's now quivering flaming rear end, his busy right hand descending time and again on either her left or her right buttock. Adding to his pleasure was the sight of the titian-haired delight in naked, servile crouch, bottom thrust up in the air, and the moans and shrieks of pleasure-pain tumbling from her lips as he beat a steady tattoo on her burning behind.
"G-Give it to me, " pleaded Loretta, her beautiful face contorted by perverse lust. "More ... I want more, dammit."
"A dozen more," huffed Lance. "And then I fuck your ass."
Loretta responded to that bit of information with a tremulous moan; her hands. clenching tightly on the bed as she visualized the glorious fucking of her well-spanked posterior. Once again, she thought dazedly, she would know the gut-jumbling thrill of rectal penetration, feel the pulsating fullness of a blood-filled pecker as it tunnelled deep inside her shit chute.
Less than a minute later, the final blows having been delivered to Loretta's hurting backside, Lance dropped his weary right arm and turned to look at Susan. In a voice made thick by passion he ordered her to fetch the jar of vaseline Loretta kept hi her night stand drawer.
"Wha-What?" queried the blonde, seemingly confused by the simple order.
"I said get the vaseline," Lance answered impatiently. "It's in her night stand drawer."
"What are you going to do?"
"What the hell do you think I'm going to do, Mrs. Latham? I'm going to grease her asshole, that's what. Now move it, will you?"
Susan got her feet working and moved around the bed and toward her neighbor's night stand. She pulled open the drawer and removed the squat jar of vaseline she discovered sit ting in one corner. And then she was reaching across the bed to hand the teen-ager the lubricant.
"Now why don't you get naked and join the party," suggested Lance, his grin lewd.
"Forget about her, will you?" croaked Loretta. "Just smear some of that stuff on my asshole and then fuck me." She brought her arms back and up to her flaming fanny, her hands clamping onto her buttocks as she pried, those half-moons of flesh apart to expose the puckered port of her anus. "There, go ahead and grease me, you beautiful stud."
Lance quickly unscrewed the cover on the jar and tossed it onto the bed. Then he was dipping two fingers into the jar, scooping out a great glob of the sticky vaseline. Now he applied the lubricant to Loretta's oft-stretched asshole, one finger, then two, digging into that small brown aperture.
Susan returned to where she had been standing before, the better to view the altogether obscene preparation of her anally-oriented neighbor's nether hole, a preparation which, she was sure, Lance had undertaken many times in the past. Her eyes strayed to the seventeen-year-old's pecker, which she saw was still rock-hard, ready to be stuffed into Loretta's pummeled posterior.
"That's enough," Loretta said suddenly. "Now stick it in me, Lance. Fuck my ass, baby!"
"You know it, beautiful lady. I'm going to put on a real show for your friend here."
Tossing the jar of vaseline onto the bed, Lance lined himself up behind the hump-happy housewife and made ready to drill into her delectable derriere. . Loretta felt her young lover's hands on her ass and immediately screwed her eyes shut. She bit down on her lower Up and relaxed her sphincter, experience having taught her that it was best to ride with the pain of insertion rather than attempt to fight it.
Lance steered his meaty member on target, wedging the knobby crown of his recently sucked tool between the rosy cheeks Loretta was still holding open for him. "Now you watch close, Mrs. Latham," he said, "and you'll see how great assfucking can be."
Susan did indeed keep her eyes glued to Lance's turgid organ. She found it impossible to do otherwise. With quickening pulse and heart beating fast she watched the good-looking youth begin pushing himself inside Loretta's upturned behind. How, she wondered, was it possible for Loretta to take the boy's large cock into her rectum. It was like trying to work the thick end of a baseball bat into a knothole one inch in diameter.
"Get it in, baby," growled the excited redhead, releasing her asscheeks as she dropped her arms to the bed. "Just plunge that big beauty in there, dammit!"
"D-Don't hurt her, please," said Susan.
Lance chortled. "Hurt her? You got to be kidding. The lady loves the pain."
"She couldn't. She just couldn't."
"Oh no? Well just watch this."
With that, Lance took a deep breath and lunged forward, the sudden, violent thrust of his hips sending his bloated manhood digging deep inside Loretta's beautiful bottom. The lust-drenched redhead howled, the scream of agony that tore from her throat tearing right through Susan and causing the shocked blonde beauty to emit a frightened gasp.
"There, that wasn't bad at all, was it, Mrs. Danton?" husked the teen-ager, his cock now firmly ensconced in the mucky confines of his partner's shit chute.
"It hurts," moaned Loretta. "Shit, it hurts."
"But it hurts good, right?"
"Y-Yes. It-It hurts good."
Lance grinned at Susan. "See, what did I tell you? The pain is a big part of the pleasure."
Susan swallowed hard. With eyes bulging she stared at the obscene point of connection. The youth's blood-fattened manhood was no longer visible, all of it, every last pulsating inch, having been swallowed up by Loretta's rectum. "Grotesque" was the only word she could think of to describe the sight of her neighbor's anus, which, thanks to Lance's thick cock, had been stretched to more than twice its normal size. That once small aperture was now wrapped around Lance's organ, gripping it tenaciously, hungrily.
"Fuck me, baby," breathed Loretta. "Fuck my ass good."
"Don't I always?" smirked the teen-ager.
"I want it hard, you hear. Hard and fast."
"I'm in charge here, Mrs. Danton. I'll set the pace."
"Just move in me, please. I-I want to feel it working in my ass."
Lance, who derived a perverse pleasure from teasing Loretta, from bringing her down to the level of a street corner slut willing to do headstands for a John, set his tumescent prick in motion. In no time at all he was moving smoothly, easily, in and out of Loretta's shapely backside, thrusting methodically, almost lazily into her dank, dark after passage.
"See how easy it is, Mrs. Latham? Nothing to it."
Susan said nothing. Her eyes, however, remained fixed on the bloated cock pistoning slowly in and out of Loretta's upturned behind. What would Steve say, she wondered, if he could see his wife right now, bare-assed naked and with a seventeen year old's prick sawing in and out of her horribly distended anus.
"Why don't you come closer for a better look," suggested Lance, his smile somewhat sardonic.
"What makes you think I'm interested?" asked the blonde.
The teen-ager chuckled softly. "You're interested all right, that's for sure. If you weren't, you would have left a long time ago."
"Maybe I'm just curious."
"That's pretty much the same thing as being interested, isn't it? Now come stand next to me, Mrs. Latham, so you can really see what's going on."
Susan didn't budge.
"What's the matter? You're not afraid of me, are you?"
"Of course I'm not afraid of you," snapped Susan, annoyed at the youth's arrogance, his unnerving cockiness.
"All right, then, so come stand next to me. I'm not going to bite you, beautiful lady."
It wasn't to view up close the sodomizing of her neighbor that Susan stepped from the foot of the bed to stand next to Lance, at his left, but only to prove to him that she couldn't be intimidated, that she was in no way, shape or form frightened by him. "Who the hell did he think he was?" she asked herself
"There, isn't that better, Mrs. Latham? Now maybe you'd like to take off some of your clothes."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"You must be crazy."
A grinning Lance, his blood-fattened cock still sawing in and out of Loretta's upturned fanny, took his left hand from Loretta's left hip and brought it back behind Susan. Within seconds he was massaging her bottom through the tight-fitting blue skirt she had on.
"Stop that," snapped Susan, knocking the teen-ager's playful hand away.
"And why don't you stop playing games?" countered Lance.
"Playing games? I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure you do. You're getting hot, Mrs. Latham. Don't insult my intelligence by denying it."
"You're just ... just impossible."
"Watching me cornhole your friend has turned you on. I'd be willing to bet money on that."
"And you'd lose."
"Faster, baby," Loretta said suddenly, her hoarse plea breaking into her young partner's conversation with Susan. "Do it harder, dammit. Fuck my dirty ass!"
"What's the big hurry?" asked Lance. "Your old man isn't due home for a couple of hours. We got plenty of time."
"Don't tease me, you son-of-a-bitch. I told you to go faster. Now do it."
Lance accelerated the tempo of his thrusts into the titian-haired beauty's still smarting behind, stepping up the pace a little to keep her happy while keeping something in reserve. Loretta's animal-like grunts and whimpers of pleasure-pain drifted up to his ears as he turned his attention back to Susan, whose eyes were once again riveted to the obscene point of connection.
"So like I was saying, Mrs. Latham, why don't you cut the crap and get naked? It's kinda silly for you to pretend-"
"I'm not pretending anything, you conceited jerk. Now just shut up and leave me alone."
Lance thought for a moment, then, "All right, if that's how you want it, sweetheart. But your husband is going to be mighty pissed off when I tell him about tonight."
A jolted Susan glowered at the youth next to her. "What do you mean, 'tell him about tonight?'"
"Oh, how you and me and Mrs. Danton got it together. How the three of us stripped naked and had a jolly good time balling like crazy."
"But I didn't do anything. And I have no intention of-"
"Yeah, but your old man won't know that. It'll be your word against mine, Mrs. Latham."
"You're bluffing. You wouldn't play such a dirty trick."
Lance grinned another of his wicked grins. "You wouldn't want to bet on that, sweetheart."
"B-But why? I've never done anything to you."
"That's not true. You've refused to take off your clothes, haven't you?"
"Why is seeing me naked so important to you?"
"Because you're a very attractive woman, that's why. And what guy doesn't like to feast his eyes on an attractive woman?"
"So to stop you from telling my husband a stupid lie I have to undress, is that it?"
"Uh huh, that's it."
"You're the most disgusting individual I've ever met, do you know that?"
Lance shrugged, then, not missing a beat as he continued his steady, methodical reaming of Loretta's rectum "I'm just a fella who takes advantage of his opportunities, Mrs. Latham. Now are you going to get naked for me or not?"
Susan's mind raced as she tried to decide what to do. It had never occurred to her that Lance Caulder, cunning opportunist though he was, would stoop so low as to blackmail her into participating in this loathsome little sex party. She had come as an observer, merely to watch and certainly not to play, a perverse curiosity triggering the trip from her house to Loretta's" bedroom, there to witness the sodomizing of her next door neighbor. But now she was being forced to shed her clothes. And what else did the arrogant teenager have in mind for her, she wondered sadly.
It could be, of course, that Lance was bluffing, that he had no intention of saying a word to her husband even if she were to stalk out of Loretta's house this very minute. But did she dare gamble? Would Brad believe Lance's fiendish lie? Maybe, and maybe not. In any event, were Lance to follow through on his threat she would have a lot of explaining to do, and the discussion, or argument, that was sure to take place when Brad got wind of her visit to Loretta's bedroom would do absolutely nothing to lessen the tension between her and her husband, who, Susan reminded herself, had been anything but communicative of late.
"So have you made up your mind, beautiful?" asked Lance.
Susan hesitated, then, "I'll take off my clothes, Lance, but that's all I'll do. Understand?"
"That's all I'm asking you to do," smiled the teen-ager.
With Lance standing right beside her, working his bloated organ in and out of Loretta's oft-reamed but still very fuckable ass, Susan started removing her clothes.. Her pink blouse came off first, then her pink brassiere, and then her shoes, skirt, and sheer pantyhose, all of which, with the exception of her shoes, she tossed onto the bed.
No sooner was the beauteous blonde naked than Lance was on the attack, his left hand again leaving Loretta's left hip to alight on Susan's tempting backside. And then he was squeezing Susan's right buttock, kneading it hungrily, his lingers digging into the warm, creamy-smooth hillock of flesh.
"How's that feel, Mrs. Latham? Nice, huh?"
"I don't feel anything," answered Susan, looking straight ahead. "Not a thing."
"Liar," grinned Lance, enjoying the woman's obvious embarrassment. "An ass like yours has just got to be super-sensitive."
"More ... harder," breathed Loretta, who was oblivious to all save the fantastic feeling of fullness in her ass. "Fuck faster, dammit. I'm-I'm going to come soon."
"Hand me the jar of vaseline," ordered Lance.
"What?"
"I said give the the vaseline."
"Why?"
"Just do as I say, Mrs. Latham."
Susan bent down and fetched the squat jar of lubricant. She handed it to Lance, who, while still thrusting into Loretta's behind, jammed the middle finger of his left hand into the jar. When he withdrew the digit it was covered with the yellowish vaseline.
"Now bend over, beautiful."
"Why? What are you going to do?"
"You'll see. Now just bend over, dammit."
"No," Susan said defiantly.
"You want me to have that little chat with your husband? Well, do you?"
"No, but tell me what-"
"Just shut up and do as I say, Mrs. Latham," said Lance, his voice rising in anger.
Nervously, resignedly, Susan bent over and placed her hands on the bed, thereby placing herself, or more correctly her fanny, in a most vulnerable position. She had a pretty fair idea of what Lance had in mind, and her suspicions were confirmed when, a moment later, she felt the finger he had stuck into the vaseline probing her virgin anus.
"N-No, don't Please don't do that."
"You'll love it, sweetheart."
"No. Don't stick it-owww!"
"Just be thankful it's my finger and not my cock in your ass," said Lance.
"Take it out, please," pleaded Susan. "It hurts!"
"No way, beautiful lady. I'm going to finger-fuck your bottom while I finish reaming Mrs. Danton's."
"Nooooo...."
"Yes, Mrs. Latham, yes."
Relishing his mastery of the two beautiful women, glorying in their subservience, the teen-age stud now set about extracting as much pleasure as possible from the situation. Much to Loretta's delight, he speeded up the tempo of his thrusts into her backside until he was hammering hard, his blood-thickened root churning wildly in the muck of her clammy rectum.
And while he fanny-fucked the titian-haired beauty, punished her with his rapidly thrusting tool, he pistoned a well-greased finger in and out of Susan's behind, the long digit drilling up into the blonde's after passage in wicked simulation of sodomy. For a few fleeting seconds he toyed with the idea of making a quick switch, of transfering his cock to Susan's ass and his finger to Loretta's succulent seat. Only the realization that such a switch would greatly disturb Loretta, maybe even prompt her to boot him out of the house, prevented Lance from following through on the idea.
Loretta would have been upset indeed had her young lover decided to withdraw his rampaging rod from her shit chute. In fact, she would have been furious. She was in seventh heaven now, enjoying the kind of brutal, no-holds-barred buggering she had come to crave with a passion.
Still in obscene crouch, her flushed face a mask of perverted lust, she thrilled to the feel of Lance's bloated prick thundering into her upturned posterior, a posterior he had spanked to a fare-thee-well earlier. She was, for all intents and purposes, in a world of her own, oblivious to all save the fantastic feel of her partner's cock splitting her right up the middle.
Susan, on the other hand, knew only shame and anger. Tears trickled down her beautiful face as she remained in her bent over position and let Lance finger-fuck her fanny. It was, to say the least, humiliating, more humiliating she thought than the analingus her husband had performed on her recently.
And what about Brad? What would he say, Susan wondered, if he could see her now, in this shameful pose, bent over her neighbor's bed while a teen-ager, a mere boy, reamed her heretofore unviolated anus with a rapidly thrusting finger. He would no doubt kill her on the spot.
"Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it," chanted Loretta, spittle dribbling down her well-molded chin. "Split my shitty ass. Hurt me, you bastard!"
"I'm gonna come in your fucking ass," growled Lance.
"D-Do it. Fill my ass with come."
Breathing hard, his nostrils flared, the seventeen-year-old continued the savage assault on Loretta's bottom, his plunging cock a flaming sword of flesh as it slashed between her quivering buttocks and up into her rectal canal. And all the while he kept drilling into Susan's ass with his vaseline-coated finger, the pistoning digit serving as a mini-prick to stretch her niggardly nether hole.
And then it was that Loretta, in a passion-choked voice, announced the start of her orgasm. An animal-like moan of ecstasy ripped from her throat as the purest pleasure engulfed her. Spasm followed spasm in rapid succession, her heated body, battered by bliss, in uncontrollable tremble on the bed.
Still behind her, still thrusting furiously into her ass, was Lance. But not for long....
With a gutteral moan of delight the teen-ager shot his gooey wad, his right hand tightening on Loretta's right hip as he inundated her bowels with a torrent of semen. He shoved his hips forward, pushing his ejaculating tool as far inside the redhead's ass as possible and keeping it there while he came.
At the same time, he rammed the middle finger of his left hand as far inside Susan's ass as possible, keeping the demanding digit imbedded in the blonde's rectum. Susan cried out, the sudden and painful plunge of Lance's finger into her behind knocking her forward. She shook her ass in the hope of dislodging the fleshy intruder, but it was to no avail.
When the last of his sticky seed had been deposited in her gorgeous backside, Lance pulled his badly-stained prick out of Loretta and, almost at the same time, withdrew his finger, also stained, from Susan's plush derriere. Still breathing hard, he examined his messy member and also the finger used to plug Susan's nether hole. A smug smile washed over his face.
Slowly, her asshole aching, the blonde beauty straightened up. She stood with her back to Lance, arms dangling at her sides. She couldn't bring herself to look at the youth who had defiled her, the boy who had taken such gross liberties with her body. She could not remember ever feeling as miserable as she did at the moment.
Loretta, who now rolled over onto her right side to rest in comfortable curl on the bed, was also feeling rather sad. But only because there was now an emptiness in her behind, a dull, aching void, and because she knew it would be a while before she thrilled again to a thick, throbbing cock churning her turds.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As miserable as she was, Susan would have been thrown into a truly crunching despair had she been able to see what her husband was up to while she was in Loretta's bedroom getting her fanny finger-fucked by a cocky teen-ager. The sight of Brad in bed with two dazzling chicks would have undoubtedly knocked her for a loop.
Brad had arrived, and right on time, too, at his fun-loving secretary's three and a half room apartment on Riverside Drive about as apprehensive and as excited as a teen-ager out on his first date. The delightful thought of deflowering Penelope's did sister's fanny had occupied his mind since last Tuesday, when he first learned that, one, his uninhibited secretary had a sister, and, two, that the girl was eager to explore the perverse pleasures of anal sex with a man adept at same.
Penelope, all smiles, had met him at the door, her beautiful body visible under the clinging, diaphonous pink peignoir she wore. She had ushered him into her small but comfortable living room and there fixed him a drink, twelve-year-old scotch-on-the-rocks. There followed several minutes of talk laced with laughter, Penelope joining her attractive boss on the while and gold striped sofa while not far away, in the bedroom, Deborah preened.
And then, at last, it was time for Deborah's entrance.
And a grand one it was, too, the sexy seventeen-year-old arriving on the scene wearing only a beautiful, infectious smile and a pair of white bikini panties that barely covered her loins. If Brad had harbored a small doubt about Deborah being as desirable as Penelope had assured him she was, that doubt was quickly, efficiently, killed when he laid eyes on the scrumptious nymphet.
"Brad, I'd like you to meet Debbie," said Penelope with obvious pride.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Latham."
"The pleasure is all mine, Debbie," said Brad, rising from the sofa, a broad smile washing over his rough-hewn face.
"Isn't she something, Brad?" asked Penelope. "There isn't a prettier kid in all of Pinewood Falls."
"Pinewood Falls?"
"That's where I live," explained Deborah. "With my parents. I'm just spending a few weeks in New York with Penny."
"Yes, I know," said Brad, dropping back down into the sofa. "Your sister told me."
"How about a drink, sis?" said Penelope.
"Gee, I don't know."
Penelope grinned. "I suggest you have at least one, honey. You know, just to relax you a little."
"Mmmm, maybe you're right," smiled the near-naked teen-ager. And then, looking at Brad, "I-I hope there isn't going to be too much pain, Mr. Latham."
"You have my word, Debbie. I'll be very gentle with you."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
But it sure as hell wasn't going to be easy keeping that promise, thought Brad, his eyes devouring the luscious young girl as Penelope rose from the sofa and headed for the small bar in the corner of the living room. He would have all he could do to keep from slamming his cock balls deep into the kid's ass without giving her so much as a word of warning.
She was a real beauty, a younger version, really, of her sister. She was about five three, maybe five four, and was built like the proverbial brick shit house. Her breasts were small but firm and perfectly rounded-twin melons of flesh capped by cherry bright nipples. Shapely were her hips; smooth and well-crafted were her legs. Her eyes, twin orbs of brown, danced in their sockets. She was, like her sister, a brunette, but unlike Penelope she wore her hair short, in an appealing boyish cut, so that it tightly framed and accentuated the creamy-smooth splendor of her bright, freshly-scribbed face.
"Turn around and show Brad your bottom, Debbie," Penelope called from across the room. "That's your best feature, you know."
The seventeen-year-old smiled and turned so that she was facing away from her sister's sometime lover. Hooking her thumbs in the elasticized waistband of her skimpy panties, she leaned over slightly and at the same time began pushing the undies down. In a matter of seconds she was standing with the pants banded about her thighs, at a point an inch or so below her asshole, her fuckable fanny revealed in all its plump, naked splendor.
Brad swallowed hard, his eyes zeroing in on that tantalizing teen-age tail. It was, he thought, a bottom to set before a king, a derriere designed to fire the imagination of sodomites everywhere. It was a ripe rear end; smooth, taut, the succulent cheeks divided by the narrowest of clefts. His pecker struggled to thicken in the confines of his slacks as he visualized himself parting those delectable buttocks, gazing longingly at that innocent, vulnerable little asshole.....
That, then, was the scene in Penelope's living room some forty minutes ago. Now all three, Penelope, Deborah and Brad, were in the bedroom, in bed, naked, enjoying one another's warm flesh as they worked up to the moment when Brad introduced the cuddlesome teen-ager to sodomy.
Brad was stretched out on his back, hands clasped behind his head, looking down his body at Debbie, who was in slave-like crouch betwen his spread legs and hungrily gobbling his fully-erect manhood. Behind Debbie was Penelope, hunched over, her playful tongue slapping at Debbie's anus as she worked to prepare that virginal port of penetration.
"I-I think that should do it, sweetheart," said Brad, more than a little eager to lay seige to the teen-ager's innocent posterior.
"Give her time, lover," Penelope suggested. "Don't rush her into this."
"I just don't want to come, that's all. If she keeps sucking me-"
"So you come? No big deal. We have the whole night ahead of us, remember?"
Brad smiled. "How do you know I can get it up again?"
"Are you kidding?" grinned Penelope. "Debbie and I are going to see to it that you set a personal record for most erections in one night."
"You are, huh?"
"Better believe it, lover."
Brad chuckled softly and then returned his attention to the tempting teen-ager still sucking his swollen root. He could tell from the way she was performing on him that she was no stranger to fellatio. It was obvious that many a prick had found its way into her pretty mouth.
Penelope continued tonguing her sister's anus. With unabashed delight she swabbed that miserly opening, licked it lustily, her talented tongue stabbing inside Deborah's virginal backside every so often. She knew, of course, that her saliva alone would not be enough. Vaseline would have to be applied to Debbie's small nether hole.
Preparing her sister like this, however, was a whole lot of fun, thought the brunette beauty. It brought to mind her very first session of sodomy, and how ultra careful the boy she had chosen to break in her ass had been. Livingly, tenderly, Pete had swabbed her anus, using his tongue like a fleshy brush to coat that puckered port with saliva, to ready it for his cock.
And then, the analingus completed, he had penetrated her posterior, gently but firmly inserting his blood-thickened pecker inside her quivering ass as she lay belly down on the picnic blanket, afraid and yet, at the same time, very excited. There was much pain that first time, she remembered. Great pain. But when at last she was stuffed with hot cock, her fanny chock full of Pete's pecker, she rejoiced in the fact that he had made her a "real" woman.
And where was good old Pete now. Penelope wondered, digging her hard-working tongue into her sister's shit hole yet another time. No doubt keeping his eye out for shapely female bottoms to screw, she thought, answering her own question.
Deborah fellatiated Brad like one to the manner born, her pretty head bobbing rhythmically, methodically, as her pursed lips slid up and down the tasty stalk of flesh. She was proud of the fact that in school she was known as "Hot Lips" by the boys, a fan-number of whom she had treated to a blow-job.
It took all the will power Brad could summon to keep him flat on his back and quiet. As it was, he threw in the towel after two more minutes had elapsed, the fantastic feel of the young girl's warm, supple lips skipping over his erection and the thought of banging her bottom to a fare-thee-well combining to make immediate action absolutely necessary. Propping himself with his elbows, he ordered Debbie to stop sucking his cock and told her the time had come for her defloration.
Reluctantly, the teen-age beauty let Brad's slippery, saliva-coated prick slide out of her mouth. She smiled up at him. "You have a delicious dick, you know that?"
"You wouldn't be stalling by any chance, would you?" asked Brad, returning the girl's smile.
"Of course not. I want your cock in my behind so bad it hurts. I haven't been able to think of anything else."
"That's the truth," said Penelope, pulling herself up into a kneeling position behind Debbie. "Getting fanny-fucked is all she's talked about for the last two days."
"So let's get with it, girls," suggested Brad. "Somebody get the vaseline."
Penelope clambered off the bed and, informing the others she'd be right back, started out of the bedroom. Brad, not wanting to waste a minute now, took this opportunity to arrange Deborah in the proper position. Following orders, the seventeen-year-old charmer with the curvacious rear end placed herself belly down on the bed, lifting her hips a few seconds later when, seeking to elevate her derriere, Brad grabbed the pillow that had been under his head and stuffed it under her.
"There, that should do the trick, princess."
"Y-You will go slow, won't you?" said Debbie, nervous now that the moment of truth was at hand.
"I gave you my word, didn't I?"
"I-I know. Just checking, that's all."
Brad smiled. "You have nothing to worry about, believe me. All you need do is try to relax."
"I'll try."
"Good girl. Now if your sister will just get back with the vaseline...."
Penelope returned ten seconds later with the lubricant. She smiled when she saw that Brad had already positioned her sister for penetration. Handing Brad the small jar of vaseline, which she had taken from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, the brunette eyeful climbed back onto the bed, this time assuming a kneeling posture next to Deborah.
"Hold her cheeks open for me, will you?" said Brad, unscrewing the cap on the jar.
Penelope smiled. "Exactly what I had in mind, lover."
Brad, kneeling now between the teen-ager's legs, tossed the cap aside and with two fingers scooped out a big glob of sticky vaseline. Seconds later, with Penelope gripping Debbie's buttocks, holding those succulent half-moons of taut flesh apart, he was applying the lubricant to the young girl's anus, smearing it on and around that hitherto untouched hole.
"Oooo, that's cold," Debbie giggled, shivering.
Penelope grinned. "You'll be getting something hot in just a minute, honey."
Brad finished greasing the teen-ager's anus and then set the jar down on the bed. He stared down at the provocative posterior poised for penetration, the plump beauty of that virginal bottom thrilling him no end. And it was his, he thought, all his! He would be the first to stir little Debbie's turds!
"Let me help you," suggested Penelope. "I can get you started, lover."
"Yeah, good idea," agreed Brad.
"Take it easy, you two," said Deborah. "Watch him, Penny."
"You just relax, honey," smiled Penelope, winking at Brad. "I won't let him hurt you."
"All right. I'm ... I'm ready."
Brad arranged himself so that he was hovering over the apprehensive teen-ager, his thick, pulsating prick scant inches from her well-prepared behind. Penelope then took hold of his tumescent organ and steered it on target, using her left hand to wedge the bulbous head between Debbie's buttocks while her right kept those taut hillocks of flesh apart.
"Ohhh, be careful," pleaded the girl, squirming a little when she felt the head of Brad's cock pressing against her greased asshole.
"It's okay, honey," Penelope assured her sister. "But You've got to relax. Don't tighten up back here."
"Oh, this is going to hurt," whimpered Deborah. "I know it."
"But only for a minute," said Brad. "It's always painful the first time."
"The pain is well worth the pleasure, Debbie," opined Penelope. "Just wait, you'll see."
"I believe you, Penny, but ... ohh, all right, go ahead and get it in me."
Having guided Brad's pecker on target, Penelope now crawled up the bed and, twisting around, sat herself down next to Deborah's head. This position enabled her to not only hold her sister's right hand, which she now took in her own right hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but also afforded her a reasonably good view of the penetration of Deborah's behind.
Reminding herself that he must proceed with caution, hoping he'd be able to do just that and not get carried away, Brad commenced the invasion of Debbie's delightful behind. He pushed forward with his hips, ever so carefully, of course, the knobby crown of his swollen manhood straining to enter the resisting ring of flesh that was the girl's vaseline-coated anus.
"Oh, shit, it's not gonna work," mewled the teen-ager. "It's too big."
"It'll go in, honey," said Penelope, giving her sister's hand another warm squeeze. "Now do as I say and relax. Think of something else."
"Like what?"
"Oh, like how good it's going to feel when it's all in."
"That's easier said than done."
Penelope smiled. "I know, but try. You've got to help, you know."
Braced on hands and knees, looking back and down as he hovered over the luscious young girl, Brad continued his careful assault on her virginal bottom. A minute passed, then another, his patience wearing thin as his cock struggled to breach the gap. All he needed, he knew, was a foothold, or, rather, a cockhold. The rest would be comparatively easy.
And then, finally, patience and perseverence proved themselves virtues not to be taken lightly. Suddenly, without warning, the bulbous head of his rigid tool popped into Deborah's stubbornly resisting anus, the seventeen-year-old letting out a shriek of agony as her nether hole stretched wide to accept the fleshy invader.
"Easy, baby, easy," said Penelope, holding tight to her sister's right hand.
"It's killing me!" cried Debbie, "Take it out, please. Tell him to take it out. Ohh-"
"The worst is over," said Brad, looking down at the teen-ager's pain-contorted face, the left side of which was pressed hotly against the sheeted mattress. "From here on in, it-"
"It hurts, oh shit! It hurts."
"Give her a chance to get used to it," Penelope told Brad. "Don't try to put any more in her for a while."
"Of course not. I know what I'm doing."
"I know you do. I just don't want her to suffer more than is necessary."
Brad didn't know who was suffering more, he or Deborah. Now that he had secured partial penetration, he was tempted to take advantage of the ground gained and ram the rest of his cock into the sobbing girl's delightful ass. It was not at all easy to resist the temptation. He did, however, hanging tough, as Deborah wiggled beneath him like a butterfly impaled on a pin.
Penelope, who knew from experience that a first fanny-fuck hurt like hell, tried fb comfort her sister by stroking the girl's hair and patting her hand. Deborah, however, continued to complain, the tears sliding down her flushed face as pain blanketed her. Though she knew such was not the case, it felt as if six inches of white hot prick had been thrust into her backside.
A minute later, Debbie having quited down, Brad got the green light from Penelope and started working more of his tool inside the teen-ager's succulent fanny. He proceeded, of course, with the utmost care, gently but firmly inching his way into that taut, quivering young bottom, his bloated manhood creeping deeper and deeper into the dank, dark tunnel of Deborah's rectum.
"Ohh," Deborah groaned. "Argghh-"
"It's going in, honey," Penelope informed her sister. "Hang in there, Debbie."
"I-I can't. It hurts too much. Oww!"
Two inches, three inches, four inches. Not much more to go, thought Brad, looking down and back, at the obscene coupling of cock and anus. He watched his prick disappear into Deborah's creamy-smooth ass, savored the fantastic feel of her heretofore untested rectum, gripping his burrowing organ. Hers was without doubt the tightest ass he'd ever had the pleasure of penetrating.
"Just a little more now," Penelope said, finding it increasingly difficult to control her excitement. The sight of Brad's pecker digging deeper and deeper into her sister's curvacious behind was causing her own anus to twitch in envy. She could, however, take comfort in the thought that before the night was over, Brad would tend to her tail. She intended to make very sure of that.
"No more, please," moaned Deborah. "I can't take it. It's too big, Penny."
"Relax, baby. Just loosen up."
"I can't dammit,"
"Yes, you can," insisted Penelope. "Now cooperate."
"I'm bleeding back there."
"You're not bleeding Deborah. Don't be silly."
The pain-drenched teen-ager thought she certainly was bleeding. It felt as if a foot long salami had been crammed into her aching ass, splitting her right up the middle. She wondered why she had ever decided to get fucked in the ass. It had to be, she thought, the stupidest idea she'd ever had in her whole life.
Brad pushed the last inch of his turgid manhood into Deborah's heavenly bottom and then rested. He tore his eyes away from the girl's horribly distended anus, and looked at Penelope, a triumphant smile washing over his rough-hewnface.
"Tight?" asked Penelope.
"Sensational," Brad breathed.
"I think I'm jealous, lover."
"Your ass would be just as tight if you didn't get it fucked so often."
"I'll remember that the next time you feel like sodomizing me," cracked the brunette beauty.
"Ohh, it's just too much," moaned Debora. "I hurt something awful, Penny."
"It's getting better, though, isn't it?"
"No, I don't think so. I-I don't know."
"Sure it is," smiled Penelope. She winked at Brad.
Sure enough, much to Deborah's surprise, the mind-clouding pain in her rectum lessened, turning gradually, slowly but surely, into a kind of pleasure she had never before experienced. It was a perverse, wholly mystifying pleasure, this feeling of fullness in her back passage. It was not unlike the fullness she felt back there when she had to go to the bathroom, and she was forced to assume that her rectum, being more elastic than she had thought, had expanded to accommodate Brad's big prick, adjusting very nicely to the tool's thickness as it had, on occasion, to an exceptionally large stool.
"Better now, honey?" asked Penelope.
"A little," answered the impaled teen-ager, hesitantly. She was reluctant to admit that the prick pulsating in her fanny felt good. To do so, she thought, just might cause the pain to return. It was crazy, of course, but she wasn't taking any chances.
"I'm going to start moving now," said Brad.
"No, wait a minute," said Penelope. Then, to Deborah, "How would you like to eat me, while Brad is fucking your ass, honey?"
"Is that possible?"
Penelope grinned. "Of course it is. Now what do you say? You can service me while Brad is servicing you."
"All right."
"Okay with you Brad?" asked the brunette beauty.
"I don't care if she sucks on your big toe. I just want to start reaming her out."
"All right, all right. Just give me a minute."
Moving quickly, Penelope twisted and turned into a position that had her sitting on the bed with Deborah's face scant inches from her secreting snatch. She extended her legs, which she had slipped under her sister's arms, full length, then stiffened her own arms behind her and leaned back.
"Ready now?" asked an impatient Brad.
'Ready," grinned Penelope.
""Go slow, please," pleaded Deborah.
"Leave the driving to Brad, honey. You just start that wicked tongue of yours working on my cunt."
Deborah, who had no qualms about eating her sister, proceeded to push her pretty face into Penelope's damp pussy. Within seconds she was licking like crazy, enjoying the always pleasant scent of her sister's aroused cunt as she slurped up the sticky juices emanating from same.
Brad started to move in the teen-ager's delectable bottom, a soft, throaty groan of pleasure erupting from his throat as he withdrew most of his cock, and then, slowly, savoring the friction, pushed back inside the clammy confines of Debbie's stretched chute. He couldn't get over how tight she was. He had all but forgotten how delightful breaking in a new bottom could be.
"That's the girl," Penelope smiled, pushing her hips up off the bed, and grinding her cunt into Deborah's face. "Lick me clean, honey. Get your tongue in there."
The spunky seventeen-year-old obeyed without a moment's hesitation, driving her tongue deep as possible into her sister's steaming vagina. And then she was zeroing in on Penelope's sensitive clitoris, her tongue wrapping around that blood-hardened passion nubbin, caressing it thrillingly.
All the while, of course, she coudl feel Brad's bloated manhood moving in her after passage, pistoning slowly in and out of her elevated posterior. It felt good, very good, and it was, she realized happily getting even better. She still didn't know where the awful pain had gone to, nor was she ready to explain how her poor little bottom could contain such a thick, throbbing prick. All she knew for certain was that her fanny was packed with rock-hard cock, that her turds were being tenderly stirred by that cock, and that, amazingly it was all just delightful.
"How is it, honey?" asked Penelope. "You like it now, don't you?"
"Ummph," answered Debbie, her words smothered by her sister's tasty twat.
"What's that mean?" asked Brad, not breaking stride as he continued reaming the young female's rectum.
Penelope smiled. "It means she likes it, lover. She likes your big, beautiful cock, churning in her ass."
"Just like her big sister," smiled Brad.
"Just like her big sister."
With unalloyed pleasure, Brad continued fucking Debbie's behind, the sight of the scintillating teen-ager munching merrily on her sister's snatch adding to his enjoyment of the moment. Every once in a while, he would look back under his body, thrill to the wonderfully obscene sight of his bloated pecker sawing in and out of the girl's plump fanny.
He wondered what Susan would say if she could see him now, enjoying himself to the fullest with two beautiful females. The look on her face would be something to photograph for posterity. She'd probably turn white with shock, and/or faint dead away.
"Harder, Brad," Debbie ordered suddenly, taking her mouth away from Penelope's lubricous love hole, in order to speak. "Do it harder, please."
Brad looked at Penelope.
"There you are, lover," smiled the brunette sexpot. "proof positive, that she likes it up her ass."
The boys at her school are going to flip when they find that out."
"They'll be lining up to take turns."
"Please Brad, fuck harder, and faster," pleaded Debbie.
"Brad winked at Penelope, then, "What do you want me to fuck, princess? Go on tell me."
"Oh, Brad, don't tease her like that."
"My ass," said the teen-ager. "I want you to fuck my ass as hard as you can."
"You like it, right? My cock feels good in your fanny."
"It feels wonderful. I love it."
"I'm going to come in your ass, you know," Brad reminded the fun-loving teen-ager, thrusting yet another time into her delectable rear end.
"Yes, do it. Come in my ass, Brad. I have to know what it feels like."
Brad smiled a wicked smile, and then finally, speeded up the tempo of his thrusts. Deborah emitted a moan of perverse pleasure, and then, like the good little sister that she was, resumed feasting on Penelope's tasty twat.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The phone call Susan received from Steve Danton on Wednesday of the following week came as a complete surprise. Steve, Loretta's good-looking husband, had never phoned her before, and when she discovered it was him on the line she became momentarily panic-stricken, for she jumped to the conclusion that he had somehow found out the sex session last Friday night in his bedroom and was calling to blast her for her part in it.
As it turned out, Susan was only half right. Steve had indeed learned of the lewd goings-on that night; this particular piece of information, as well as the sordid details of Loretta's many other indiscretions, hurled at him during a stormy fight with his wife Tuesday evening, Loretta, in an uncontrollable fit of temper, spilling the beans. He was not calling, however, to chide Susan for her participation, willing or otherwise, in Friday night's mini fuck fest.
What he wanted was a date.
"Steve, you can't be serious," said a flabbergasted Susan.
"But I am, Susan. I'd like very much to have lunch with you. Today, if possible."
"I-I can't, Steve. It's out of the question."
"Why?"
"You know why. I'm a married woman, Steve, and you're-"
"A married-man, I know. But not for long, Susan. There's no way I can continue living with Loretta after last night. What I learned about her last night nearly destroyed me. I'm going to get a divorce."
"A divorce?"
"That's what I said. As a matter-of-fact, I've already contacted a lawyer friend of mine."
"I see," Susan said thoughtfully. "Are you sure that's what you want? I mean, a divorce is-"
"The only answer," Steve broke in, finishing the sentence. "It's something I probably should have done a long time ago. Loretta and I have drifted so far apart that we're almost strangers now."
"I'm sorry, Steve. Really sorry."
"Don't be. It's for the best, believe me, Susan. With Loretta and me it was a case of opposites attracting, I guess. Each kept hoping the other would change."
"I think I understand."
"I thought you would. From what I gather, you're more or less in the same boat I'm in."
Susan's brow furrowed. "I don't follow you, Steve. What do you mean I'm in the same boat?"
"I'm talking about you and Brad," explained Steve. "During her tirade last night my soon-to-be ex wife mentioned the problem you and Brad are having."
"Problem?" said Susan, playing dumb.
"The sex problem. According to Loretta, you and Brad are no more sexually compatible than she and I are."
"That's not exactly true, Steve. Brad and I don't always see eye to eye, but that doesn't mean we're not compatible."
"He likes kinky sex, doesn't he?"
"Now, Steve, really."
"And you don't dig taking it up the ass, right?"
"Now that's enough," Susan said angrily, her right hand tightening on the receiver. "My sex life is absolutely no concern of yours, Mr. Danton." Damn Loretta and her big mouth, the blond beauty added to herself. Why did she have to go and tell her husband everything?
"Oh, Susan, I'm sorry," groaned Steve. "I didn't mean to get you upset. It's just that my nerves are shot, you know? I mean, the session I had with Loretta last night really ripped me apart. Forgive me, will you?"
Susan didn't answer.
"Susan, are you still there?"
"Still here, Steve. And I forgive you. I also apologize for coming down so hard on you. Maybe my nerves are as frayed as yours. Lately I've been, well, so jumpy."
"So Loretta was right. You and Brad are having your troubles."
"Things could be better," Susan admitted. "It seems that Brad and I have suddenly forgotten how to communicate. I don't know if by his silence he's trying to tell me I'm failing him or what. All I do know is that we're drifting apart."
There was a long silence at the other end of the line. Then, finally, "Meet me for lunch, Susan. Please. We can talk and, well, maybe comfort each other."
"Oh, I don't know, Steve. I don't think we should."
"Should what? Have lunch together? What harm is there in that?"
"None, I suppose, but-"
"One o'clock, Susan," Steve said firmly, his tone of voice making it clear that he would not tolerate further discussion of the subject. "I'll meet you at the Wild Peacock. Do you know where it is?"
"Yes, but, Steve-"
"One o'clock, Susan. Now please be there."
Before Susan could say another word the line went dead. The dazzling blonde, attired this morning in a simple cotton housedress and powder blue slippers, returned the receiver to its cradle and walked slowly out of the bedroom. Once downstairs, in the living room, she plopped into the sofa, losing herself in thought as she mulled over the call from Loretta's husband.
Fifteen minutes later, still unable to think of one good reason why she should not accept Steve's invitation to lunch, Susan went back upstairs and stripped naked. Meeting Steve in New York, chatting with him, would be a nice break in her routine, she told herself as she stepped into the shower. It would get her out of the house for a few hours.
Then, too, Steve just might be able to help her understand Brad's unnerving behavior of late. He might offer a suggestion or two concerning the best way to get her marriage back on the right track. Going to Loretta for advice had turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life, a genuine fiasco, but Steve, being altogether different from his wild, hedonistic wife, would certainly be understanding and sympathetic.
In any event, thought Susan, she had nothing to lose by having lunch with Mr. Steve Danton.
"Have I told you how lovely you look this afternoon?" said Steve with a warm smile.
"Half a dozen times, at least," answered Susan, returning the smile. "All this flattery is making my head spin."
Steve chuckled softly. "Is it the flattery or the wine, Susan?"
The blond eyeful, who did indeed look terrific in her flaming red, well-tailored pants suit, winked at the handsome man sitting across from her. "Probably a little of both," she admitted. "I'm not used to drinking so much."
"Three glasses of red wine isn't much."
"For someone like me it is. But, mmmmmm, was it ever delicious, Steve. The food too, for that matter."
"The steak was good, wasn't it? I must remember to compliment the chef."
"I can't remember ever having fillet mignon for lunch," said a buoyant Susan. "For dinner, yes, but never for lunch. This was a real treat."
"My pleasure," smiled Steve. He reached across the table and rested his right hand on Susan's left. "Someone as nice as you deserved the very best."
Susan giggled. "Now there you go again with the flattery, Mr. Danton. You're going to spoil me if you don't stop."
"Don't blame me. Ah just calls 'em as ah sees 'em, lovely lady."
Susan laughed at Steve's imitation of a western accent. He really was a most charming man, she thought. She had never realized just how charming until now. Which, in a way, was understandable, since she was only now getting to know the man who had lived next door to her for the last three years. She and Brad had enjoyed a few back yard barbecues with the Dantons and had taken in a few movies with their next door neighbors, but occasional get-togethers such as these never provided one with the opportunity to fully explore another person's character and personality. Here, in this small, intimate restaurant, filled at the moment with people eating and talking, she was learning more about Steve than she had in the past three years.
The one thing she didn't need to be told was that he was very good-looking. That much was readily apparent to anyone with two good eyes. And this afternoon he seemed to her especially attractive. Was it the mellow red wine she had consumed that made him so appealing, Susan wondered. Or was it because Steve resembled her husband?
Like Brad, Steve was a ruggedly attractive male with a trim, athletic-looking body. He was tall, about six foot one, and weighed, she figured, somewhere in the vicinity of one hundred and seventy-five pounds. His eyes were blue, and his hair, which he wore long, was coal black. At thirty-two, he was two years older than her husband.
"Hey, it's not very nice to stare," said Steve, intruding on Susan's thoughts.
"Oh, was I staring?" Susan asked innocently.
"That you were," smiled Steve. "Tell me, is there a piece of mashed potato on my face?"
The blond beauty chuckled. "No, nothing like that."
"Then it has to be that you were sizing me up.
"Sizing you up?"
"Uh huh." Steve paused, then, "How about another glass of wine, Susan? There's still a little left in the bottle."
"No, I don't think so. I've had enough, Steve."
"Come on, it won't do you any harm."
"Well, just half a glass."
"Good girl." Steve reached for the almost empty bottle of red wine and proceeded to fill Susan's glass to the top.
"Hey, I said just half a glass, remember?"
"We can't let good stuff like this go to waste." explained a grinning Steve. He turnedthe bottle upside down and shook it. "See, no more. There was just enough left to fill your glass."
"I think you're trying to get me drunk, Mr. Danton."
"Now why would I do a horrible thing like that, Mrs. Latham?"
Susan took a sip of her drink and then, "What did you mean before when you said I was sizing you up?"
"Don't you know, Susan?" said Steve, his smile fading as he suddenly turned serious.
"Maybe I do and maybe I don't. I just want to hear you tell me what you meant, that's all."
"So you can chide me for flattering you again?"
"Not necessarily," said the blue-eyed delight, suddenly aware of a dampness at her crotch. She squeezed her legs together and took another sip of her drink.
Steve leaned across the table and once again placed his right hand over Susan's left. "I think you want me, Susan," he said in a voice no louder than a whisper. "I think you need me. I sure as hell want you-very much."
Susan knew she should have been shocked by this admission from her next door neighbor. Maybe even angered by it. But she was neither. Steve's words were like music to her ears, the sweetest, sexiest music, and they ignited within her a longing for his caress, a need to touch him intimately. It was the wine, she reasoned, that was making her so horny. How else to explain why she was so lightheaded, why she felt so carefree and-and sexy?
"You do want me, Susan, don't you? Tell me the truth."
"We haven't even talked about Loretta and the fact that you're going to divorce her," Susan reminded Steve. "And that was the purpose of our lunching together, wasn't it?"
"Forget about my wife and my marital problems. I don't want to talk about that now. I-I just want to be alone with you, Susan. I want to make love to you."
"You want to fuck me, you mean," said Susan, smiling a drunken smile.
"All right, I want to fuck you," admitted Steve, speaking in a whisper so those around the table couldn't hear. "And you want me to fuck you. That's the truth, isn't it?" He gave Susan's hand a good squeeze. "Isn't it, Susan?"
"I-I don't know, Steve. I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know?"
"Maybe I do want you, but-but what about Brad. I don't want to hurt him."
"You won't be hurting him, Susan. Brad will never know about us."
"But I will. I'm not sure I can cope with the guilt."
"Dammit, Susan. I want you. I need you. Now, are you going to come with me or not?"
"Where?"
"A friend of mine has an apartment not far from here. We can go there. He's given me permission to use his place while he's out of town on business."
"It's wrong, Steve," said Susan, trying to convince herself as well as her handsome next door neighbor.
"It's right," argued Steve. "For us it's right. Aren't we entitled to some happiness?"
Susan, thinking it her duty to make at least some effort to resist temptation, wrestled with the admittedly exciting idea of going to bed with the desirable male seated across from her. It was a reasonably good battle she waged with her conscience, but one which, thanks to the growing itch between her legs, she had no real chance of winning.
In her heart she knew it would be wrong to cheat on her husband, even if he had been making her miserable lately. But her secreting cunt refused to take no for an answer. If there was one thing Susan was certain of, it was that she did indeed want to get laid-laid by Steve Danton. Fucked by Steve Danton.
Thus it was that when Steve persisted, urged her again to decide in his favor, the inebriated beauty gulped down the last of the wine and, with pussy purring, said simply, "All right, Steve, let's go fuck."
It was a nice apartment, small but neatly furnished and, with an eye-popping view of the East River. Not that Steve gave Susan much time to appreciate the view. A few minutes after ushering her into his friend's apartment he was steering her into the bedroom, and then helping her undress.
As soon as she was naked, Susan climbed into the double bed and stretched out on her back. Thinking it strange that she felt no shame, no guilt, she commenced a hungry massage of her now molten womanhood, both hands snaking down her body to play between her spread legs. She kept her eyes on Steve as he slipped out of his clothes, waiting anxiously for the moment when he exposed his most precious part.
And then, at last-
"Oh, Steve, it's beautiful. Just beautiful."
"And you're tipsy," grinned Steve, as naked now as the day he was born.
"I know and I don't care. Just come here and do me, Steve."
Steve, sporting a firm, six inch erection, padded to the bed and then climbed into it. Draping himself over Susan, he planted his lips over hers and kissed her passionately, their tongues entwining in sensuous embrace. Susan's right hand groped for his cock, found it, gave that thick, columnar length of flesh an almost painful squeeze.
No sooner did Steve break the kiss than the horny lovely was asking for another-but not on her lips.
"Will you do me later?" asked Steve.
"What do you think?" smiled Susan, feeling as bold, as downright naughty, as she thought it was possible to feel.
"Let me hear you say it. Tell me you'll suck my cock."
"Yes, I'll suck it, Steve. I'll suck it till you cry uncle."
"Maybe I'll come in your mouth. Would you like that?"
"Very much," breathed Steve.
Thinking himself most fortunate, a happy steve now began inching his way down Susan's curvacious body, his lips wandering from the hollow of her neck to her smooth chest. He played awhile at her mouth-watering breasts, his roving tongue coating those twin globes of spongy goodness with a thin film of saliva. He nibbled on her nipples, chewed them hungrily, his teeth biting into the rosy crumbs of flesh with just enough pressure to give Susan pleasure and not pain.
"Oh, Steve, I like that," the blond beauty sighed, her hands clenching at her sides as she closed her eyes and savored her partner's oral ministrations. "Do the rest now. Please, Steve. Get to my cunt."
"On my way, baby. Just be patient."
"I'm so hot, Steve. So turned on."
Eager himself to get to the main course, Steve bid farewell to Susan's tempting mammaries and resumed his journey, his tongue trailing over the smooth, flat plane of his neighbor's wife's tummy as he squirmed ever closer to his destination. He paused a moment to tickle Susan's navel, to swirl his tongue in that cute indentation, and then again he was on the move, his face sliding downward into a golden nest of curly pubic hairs.
"Do me, Steve," Susan pleaded passionately, her shapely hips leaving the bed as she pushed her twitching pussy up into her partner's handsome face. "Lick my cunt for me. Eat it good."
Steve worked his hands under Susan's plush bottom and clasped her taut buttocks. Then, without further ado, he plastered his face against her steaming snatch, his head moving up and down and from side to side as he commenced a lascivious lickings of that soupy cabbage.
"Unnngh-" Susan moaned. "Ohhhh-" Before very long Steve was attacking a grateful clitoris, his tongue journeying to the apex of Susan's slippery slot to begin a cunning caress of her passion nubbin. With devilish expertise he worried the blood-hardened erectile, first lashing it with his whipping tongue, then stroking it soothingly, and then, finally, drawing it into his mouth.
Susan gasped and grunted with delight as Steve, hunched over between her legs, tended to her flaming twat. He was, she realized happily, every bit as good at cunnilingus as Brad. His wonderful tongue was turning her inside out, making her want to scream with pleasure.
"N-No more, Steve. Pi-Please. I c-can't take it."
"You taste so damn good, baby," Steve said huskily, rubbing his face into Susan's golden bush and inhaling its exciting fragrance. "I could spend all afternoon eating you."
"No. Let me now. Please let me do you."
"You don't have to if you don't want to, Susan."
"But I do want to suck you, Steve. I need your prick in my mouth."
Steve released Susan's ass cheeks and pushed himself up until he was kneeling between her legs. "All right, baby," he said thickly, "it's yours for the taking. Go ahead and blow me."
Susan didn't need a second invitation. Before you could say "Jack Robinson" she was leaping to the attack, her heated body contorting acrobatically as she pushed up into a sitting position, swiveled around until she was kneeling in front of Steve, and then swooped down toward his rock-hard erection. With a harlot's zeal she grabbed that meaty member, an animal-like growl bursting from her throat as she opened wide and stuffed what she could of the prick into her hungry mouth.
"Ohhh, baby," Steve moaned. "Oh, Susan." He looked down at the ravishing blonde gobbling his tool like there was no tomorrow, the feel of her wildly sucking lips thrilling him to the nth degree. He placed his hands on her bobbing head, his fingers snaking through her long silky hair. "Suck it, Susan. Take it all down your beautiful throat."
Susan seemed intent on doing just that. Like one possessed she went after Steve's blood-thickened manhood, gobbling it greedily, with an eager to please whore's enthusiasm. She jammed a hand between his legs and grabbed his pendulous scrotum, her fingers digging into the warm, wrinkled pouch of flesh.
"That's good, baby," Steve said huskily. "Don't stop now. Keep sucking, Susan. Suck hard."
Steve, who worked as a free-lance illustrator, had long been of the opinion that the prettiest picture he could draw, certainly the most provocative, would be one of Susan Latham on her knees and sucking his turgid manhood. He had known from the very beginning, from the first day they met, that she was something special, something precious.
Up until now, however, he had been obliged to admire her from afar, to keep his feelings to himself while he prayed for an opportunity to get closer to her. At the same time, for appearances sake, he'd had to pretend satisfaction with his marriage.
But now he could stop living a lie, thought Steve, relishing the feel of Susan's tightly pursed lips sliding up and down his bloated cock. The gods had decided, at long last, to answer his prayers and put him in a position to claim Susan for his own. No longer would he have to envy Brad Latham.
Ironically enough, it was Loretta who, with her vicious tirade last night, her fiendish betrayal of trust, had kicked open the door of happiness for him. Never would he forget the sight of his wife's face, the sound of her ugly laughter, as she gleefully confessed to being an adulterous extraordinaire. But as shocking as this revelation had been he could think of it now as a blessing in disguise, for had Loretta not confessed all, mentioning along the way that Susan was, in her words, "an uptight bitch who didn't deserve a man like Brad," he never would have known that Susan was having her problems with Brad's interest in anal sex. He would have gone on thinking that there was no way in the world he could ever interest the golden-haired beauty.
Seemingly lost in a world of her own, determined to pleasure Steve as he had pleasured her moments ago, Susan continued slobbering over her next door neighbor's genitals. With sluttish abandon she feasted on his delicious pecker, gurgling sounds of lust emanating from her pretty throat as she labored.
Two minutes later, her cunt screaming for prick, Susan stopped the feverish fellatio and bolted up out of her slave-like crouch and into a kneeling position. "Fuck me now, Steve," she breathed excitedly, her flushed face mirroring the lust scorching her insides. "Screw me as hard as you can." To emphasize her great desire for his dick, she gave Steve's well-sucked rod an almost painful squeeze.
"Turn around, Susan," rasped the handsome illustrator. "Get on your hands and knees."
Susan's eyes grew wide with panic. "You're not going to-I mean, you can't want to do me like that."
Steve was momentarily confused, but then, as the reason for Susan's fear dawned on him, "No, Susan, I'm not like Brad. I'm not interested in fucking your bottom-beautiful though it is." '
"Oh, thank heavens. For a minute there I thought-"
"You thought I was going to cause you great pain. But you have nothing to worry about, Susan. I would never do anything to hurt you. Never."
"Oh, Steve, you're wonderful," crooned the golden-haired delight, throwing her arms around him and holding hit" close. "I'm so glad you called me this rrorn'ig."
"You can't be any happier than I am, Susan."
Less than fifteen seconds later, acting on Steve's request, Susan swiveled away from him and assumed an all fours pose on the bed. Then she was looking back over her left shoulder and beseeching Steve to screw her, to fuck her silly. Her cunt, she said, was crying for his beautiful cock.
Eager to oblige, Steve shuffled forward on his knees until he was positioned directly behind the female whose body he had craved for so long. Quickly, smoothly, he directed his saliva-coated organ on target, wedging the plum-shaped crown between Susan's drooling pussy lips.
"Get it into me, Steve," begged Susan. "All the way in."
Steve did just that, one hard, daring thrust sending his tumescent pecker scurrying up into his partner's tummy. For just a few seconds he rested, his hands clamping onto Susan's hips as he savored the feel of her palpitating vagina clasping his imbedded erection. And then he was moving in the blond beauty, stroking her juicy cunt with his turgid prick.
"Y-Yes, like that," Susan breathed hotly. "Do it to me good, Steve. Fuck me, you wonderful man."
"Let's make it last, baby," said Steve huskily.
"We can try. We can try hard."
Although neither chose to elaborate, Susan and Steve both realized that what they wanted to make last was not this particular coupling necessarily, but their relationship. The affair itself was the important thing. Steve, of course, had high hopes for the relationship. Buoyed by his success this afternoon, he found it easy enough to imagine Susan divorcing Brad to marry him.
Susan, while not ready yet to start thinking in those terms, was willing to admit that Steve Danton had the makings of an ideal mate. He possessed all the same virtues that had endeared her to Brad, she realized. The two were similar, almost amazingly so, in many respects.
There was, however, one way in which they differed. And it was a most important way. Anal sex held no fascination for Steve, whereas Brad craved it with a passion. Could she continue living with a man whose idea of fantastic sex was sodomy, Susan wondered. Sooner or later, Brad would have his way with her, using his physical strength, if necessary, to overpower her and force his manhood into her bottom.
CHAPTER NINE
"You, Mrs. Danton, are a very, very wicked lady," Brad noted with a grin.
"I take it you mean that as a compliment, Mr. Latham," said Loretta, returning the grin.
"I most certainly do. I happen to like terribly wicked women."
"Which is exactly why I phoned you at your office to suggest we meet at this motel. I intend to show you just how wicked I can be, handsome friend."
"It's a good thing my wife can't hear you talk like that. She wouldn't like it one little bit."
"And just where is Susan tonight? At home brooding?"
"She's visiting a friend," said Brad. He thought for a moment, then, "You know, it's kind of strange."
"What is, your friend visiting a friend?"
"No, not that, although this does happen to be the first time in our marriage that Susan has gone visiting without me. What's strange is that she didn't seem to mind at all when I told her I'd have to work late tonight. In fact, I got the impression she was glad."
Loretta chuckled. "Maybe she has a lover stashed away somewhere. Ever think of that?"
"Susan? No, no way: She wouldn't even know how to go about starting an affair."
"Don't be so sure, friend."
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Brad, continuing to undress. Some six feet from where he stood the titan-tressed Loretta was removing her clothes. "Do you know something I don't?"
"Of course not," answered Loretta, reaching around behind her to undo the clasp of her black brassiere. "I'm just saying that it's possible she got fed up with what she thinks are your weird ideas about sex and decided to find a guy with, well, a more conventional approach."
"Like who, for instance?"
"How would I know?" Loretta paused, then, with a grin, "Maybe she discovered my husband. Or should I say, my soon-to-be ex-husband."
"That's preposterous, Loretta. It's just plain ridiculous."
"Is it, Brad? Think about it for a moment. In terms of temperament and sexual preferences my husband and your wife are ideally suited for each other. They go together, you might say, like ham and eggs."
"Maybe you have a point there," said Brad, pushing down his white undershorts, "but it just-no, it's impossible. I can't imagine the two of them together."
"I don't find it so hard," grinned Loretta, stepping out of her lime-colored shoes. "And it just so happens that Steve isn't home tonight, either. Soooo-"
"He isn't home?"
The redheaded vixen shook her head as she hooked her thumbs in the elasticized waistband of her black briefs. "He told me the same thing that you told Susan-that he had to work late at the office tonight."
"What office? I thought Steve worked free-lance."
"Not any more. He's working now on the staff of a news magazine."
"Oh, since when?"
"Since last Monday." Loretta smiled. "I'm sure he took the job just to get out of the house. Away from me, you know. Not that I give a good shit what he does."
"Is he still talking about divorce?" asked Brad.
"He's not saying much of anything. In fact, neither one of us speaks unless it's absolutely necessary."
"Sounds like a sad situation," said Brad, tossing his shorts aside. He was bare-assed naked now, his pecker dangling between his legs. He had not forgotten Loretta's promise of a blow-job, one which, she had said, would prepare his root for entry into her behind.
"Well, it could be better. He could move out."
Brad chuckled. "And then what would you do? For sex, I mean."
"Are you kidding?" said the titian-haired beauty, flipping her panties onto a chair already covered with her other clothes. "He hasn't come near me since we had that violent row. I told you about that, remember?"
Brad nodded.
"And it's just as well. I never liked it when he touched me, anyway. The man is just a dud in bed."
"Because he wouldn't sodomize you?"
"Exactly." Loretta smiled. "A real man wouldn't think twice about shoving his thing up my tail."
"You talk my language." Brad grinned. "Now are you just going to stand there stark naked and curse Steve, or are you going to come over here and suck me?"
"Which would you prefer, handsome?"
"Don't me smart, Mrs. Danton, or I'll take you over my knee and spank holy hell out of your ass."
"And I'd come at least twice while you're doing it," said Loretta, grinning.
"Come here, woman," ordered Brad, feigning anger. "Down on your knees in front of me."
"Yes, that's what I like, Mr. Latham. Order me around. Tell me what to do. Make me your slave."
"Move it, baby," said Brad, playing his part. He pointed to the floor in front of him.
Loretta padded over to the handsome advertising executive and sank to her knees in front of him. An altogether wicked smile crept over her smooth-complexioned face as she reached for Brad's limp pecker. She fondled his warm privates with something akin to worship, her right hand caressing his dangling dong while her left cupped and gently squeezed his hairy scrotal sac.
"Go ahead and eat me, baby," said Brad.
"And what are you going to do to me after I blow you?" asked the redheaded temptress, excitement rippling through her luscious body.
"You know perfectly well what I'm going to do."
"Tell me, Brad. Spell it out, baby."
"I'm going to fuck your ass, Mrs. Danton. "I'm going to screw the shit out of you."
Loretta shivered. "Just hearing you say that thrills me. I need it up my bottom so bad, Brad."
"Then I suggest you start sucking my prick, sweetheart. The sooner it's hard-"
"Yes. Mmmmm-oh, yes."
Not many seconds later, Brad's flaccid cock was in Loretta's always hungry mouth. With unadulterated pleasure and no shame whatsoever the titian-tressed vixen sucked the tasty pecker, her cheeks puffing out and then deflating, puffing out and deflating, as she worked to stiffen Brad's meat.
Brad, placing his hands on his hips, smiled down at Loretta, the sight of her enthusiastically blowing him, not to mention the feel of her senuous lips on his cock, pleasing him a great deal. Receiving her call this morning at the office had been a real surprise, a delightful surprise, for while he had admired his shapely and fun-loving neighbor's fuckable figure on many occasions, imagining himself drilling his erect cock deep into that provocative posterior, it had never crossed his mind to make a play for her.
Probably because she was a married woman, thought Brad, savoring the sight of Loretta sucking sluttishly. Not only that, but the fact that she lived right next door to him made a pass rather risky. Then, too, he had just assumed that Loretta was reasonably happy with her marriage.
Now, of course, he knew better. Poor, dumb Steve. What a total idiot the man was. Married to a gorgeous hunk of woman who adored anal sex and all he did was ignore her ass. Was it any wonder that Loretta had taken up with a young, virile delivery boy unafraid to satisfy her needs?
He and Loretta had at least one thing in common, Brad realized. A keen appreciation of anal sex. And both had been forced to seek satisfaction through extra-marital adventures with persons who' shared that appreciation, their uptight mates stubbornly refusing to try anything that was different.
So maybe Loretta was right when she said that Steve and Susan were suited to each other. Their opinions of sodomy were certainly the same. But about this other thing, this business of Steve and Susan possibly being lovers. Had Loretta guessed right on that?
It didn't seem likely, thought Brad. Susan just wasn't the type to mess around. On the other hand, he supposed stranger things had happened. Then, too, there was no denying the fact that Susan had been acting kind of strange lately. And she had gone out tonight with a funny little smile on her face, leaving the house without telling him the name of this friend she was supposedly going to visit. Could it really be that Susan and Steve had somehow managed to discover one another?
This, needless to say, wasn't something to worry about as far as Loretta was concerned. She could not have cared less what, if anything, her husband was doing with Susan Latham. All that mattered at the moment was Brad's cock, the one soon to be crammed to the hilt in her ass.
So it was that the titian-haired delight continued her obscene labors, her head bobbing rapidly as she sucked Brad's almost fullyerect cock with whorish abandon. It would soon be ready for her bottom, she realized gleefully. Another thirty seconds, maybe less, and the fleshy fullness of Brad's dick, so wonderful in her mouth now, would be chugging up her after passage and making her moan with pleasure.
"Yeah, you really know how to suck prick, baby," Brad said huskily, still looking down at the ravishing woman fellating him with gusto. "You're a real pro, Loretta."
"Gnnnngh-" Loretta groaned around the blood-fattened pecker in her mouth.
"You ready to get fucked in the fanny now, baby?"
A gasp of lust bolted from Loretta's mouth as she yanked the tasty tool out of that saliva-filled cavity. "More than ready," she breathed excitedly, rubbing Brad's slippery manhood all over her beautiful face. Then she was licking his hard-on, slapping at it with her tongue, her asshole twitching excitedly as she put the finishing touches on her "work of art."
"Get up," ordered Brad, unwilling to wait another second for his luscious neighbor's backside. "You've sucked it enough, Loretta."
The lust-charged beauty stopped slobbering and, with her left hand clasping Brad's well-sucked manhood, climbed to her feet. In a husky voice she asked Brad how he wanted her. On the bed, braced on hands and knees?
"Just turn around and bend over," said Brad.
Loretta was quick to obey the obscene command. Turning her back to Brad, she bent forward at the waist and placed her hands on her knees. She spread her feet and firmed her stance on the floor. Like a bitch in heat she wagged her tail in lewd invitation. Her oft-stretched asshole was itching something fierce now.
"Ready, baby?" asked Brad, his well-sucked manhood in pulsating readiness.
"You know it, lover. Slam that beautiful thing into me." .
Brad stepped up into position behind the bent over redhead, the pleasure of anticipation coursing through him as he drew a bead on her voluptuous posterior. The fact that he was finally getting a chance to fuck Loretta's fanny after having ogled it for so long thrilled him.
"Just shove it into me," ordered Loretta. "I want it all up my ass, baby."
That's what you're going to get, Mrs. Danton. I wouldn't have it any other way."
Clasping Loretta's left buttock with his left hand and pulling it away from its mate, Brad used his free hand to steer his blood-fattened cock on target. Then, with the drooling head of his manhood wedged between the wicked woman's buttocks, he exerted forward pressure with his hips and began pushing himself into her beautifully rounded bottom. In, baby. Get it in me."
"Patience, Loretta. You're going to get it all, believe me."
"I've looked forward to this moment all day," said the titian-haired delight, her hands tightening on her knees as she pushed back against Brad.
"You and me both, sweetheart," Brad said thickly.
Penetration was accomplished with only a minimum of effort, the saliva-coated crown of Brad's well-sucked manhood pushing past the small ring of muscle that was Loretta's anus. Slowly, with obvious pleasure, he worked himself deeper into the redhead's fuckable rear end, his tumescent cock journeying into the dark, swampy confines of her rectal canal.
"Nnnnngh," groaned Loretta, relishing the feel of the fat, pulsating organ burrowing into her. "More, baby. Stick it all inside my shitty ass."
Brad, both hands now clamped onto Loretta's shapely hips, resisted the temptation to rear back and with a single murderous thrust bury himself to the hilt in his luscious neighbor's backside. He worked deliberately, inserting his tool a little at a time and wresting from the moment all pleasure possible.
Loretta, too, enjoyed the slow but forceful penetration of her behind, even though she had called for a quick, brutal stuffing of her rectum. Grunts and groans of pleasure spilled from her lips as she savored the unnatural coupling of cock and anus. Delighted was she to feel Brad's bloated manhood tunneling into her clammy after passage, moving relentlessly, inexorably, through the muck of that oft-stretched but still reasonably tight tube. And then, finally-
"Okay, beautiful, you got it all now," Brad said huskily. "I'm in to the balls."
"G-Good. It's so fucking good."
"And it's going to get even better."
"Do me good, Brad. Make me moan, dammit."
Grinning lewdly, Brad started to move his swollen tool in and out of Loretta's backside, his hands tightening on her hips as he screwed the seat whose plump contour and delightful wiggle he had admired on many occasions. He looked down, at the point of connection, the sight of his stained erection leaving and enterig the female's curvacious fanny adding much to his enjoyment.
"Fuck it, baby," breathed Loretta. "Screw my filthy ass."
"You want me to diddle your clit."
"I don't care. If you want to."
Taking his right hand from Loretta's right hip, Brad reached around and under the excited redhead, his arm sweeping up toward her stomach as he went after her copper-colored snatch. In no time at all he was rubbing that warm, furry nest of pubic curls, stroking it passionately as he continued fucking Loretta's behind.
Groping blindly, he found the woman's clitoris and set about strumming it with his fingers. Loretta moaned her appreciation of this dual stimulation. Her enjoyment of sodomy did not depend, of course, on having her swollen passion-nubbin fingered at the same time-all she needed was the feel of a man's bloated cock sawing in and out of her rectum. Nevertheless, she fully appreciated the attention Brad was giving her clit.
"How's that, baby?" asked Brad. "You like?"
"G-Good. Very good."
"You know what you're going to do for me later?"
"What?"
"Suck my cock again."
"After it's been in my ass?" asked Loretta, deriving satanic pleasure from the thought of taking Brad's dirtied pecker into her mouth.
"Yeah. Would you like that, Mrs. Danton?"
"You know I would, you handsome bastard."
Brad chuckled lewdly. For another minute or so he continued pleasuring Loretta with his hand and his cock, keeping the former busy at her secreting cunt while the latter jabbed repeatedly into her fuckable posterior. Then, deciding to concentrate on the redhead's rear end, he straightened up and returned his hand to her hip.
Brad chuckled again and speeded up the tempo of his thrusts. A moment later, however, thinking that if Brad continued like this she'd find herself sprawled on the floor for sure, Loretta asked him to stop thrusting for a minute. Wondering what was up, the young advertising executive did as directed.
"What's the matter, baby? Too hard for you?"
"N-No, it's good. But I'm going to fall down."
"I'll hold you up," Brad said grinning.
"No, I have a better idea. Follow me."
Brad had little choice in the matter since he was connected to the titian-tressed temptress, his bloated manhood still snugly ensconced in her gripping rectum.
