It never hit the newspapers, but what happened on that December day in a Buffalo, New York department store when a historic white-out tore down power lines and smothered snow plows like so many shells on a sandy beach, is worth repeating.
Nobody expected snow, nobody wanted snow on that eighth day after an old-fashioned white Christmas, but it came piling in at their doors, an uninvited guest, raising havoc with transportation, ruining holiday plans, and causing a pandemonium unequaled in Buffalo.
So bizarre were the events that followed, it might have passed for a psychological test designed by some wacky human behaviorist, for what happens when fifty-some strangers find themselves snowbound in a department store turned into a hotel with no doors, is
somewhere bordering on hysterical.
Of the stranded storm victims, Mona Bradley, a spoiled, bouncy, five-foot-two buxom blonde, with a coconut tan, fresh from Jamaican beaches, could tell the story best, for it was her vain frivolousness that prompted her demise and shameful infidelities, too scandalous for this introduction.
The Publisher
Chapter One
Officially the season was only eight days past the winter solstice, but already Buffalo, New York had twice made national news with its Arctic white-outs, twelve foot drifts swept high by fifty mile per hour winds and chill factors dipping to a brisk sixty degrees below zero. The city's citizens, outraged by a second assaulting year of frigid days and sub-zero nights, clenched their fists angrily at the pregnant skies and then fell into a helpless, post-Christmas catatonic state of immobility.
The city streets resembled a dump yard with ditched cars angled over sidewalks, their wind-blown shiny hoods sticking up out of their white burial mounds like so many graveyard markers. One couldn't venture past the porch steps without losing a muffler, a hat, or a mitten.
Only a few of the more adventurous breed braved the knee-high snow and functioned as normally as possible, reminding themselves of the torpid summer of months past. Amongst this daring lot was Mona Bradley, wiping vapor from the windshield to clear a spot of precious visibility for her husband Orin who clutched the steering wheel, squinting to see through the blanket of falling snow to the parking lot entrance to Joseph's Department Store.
"Honey, I'd give my new pink chiffon dress to be back in Jamaica lying on the beach and soaking up that delicious sun." Mona, a buxom blonde with honey curls as bouncy as Farrah Fawcett's, shivered in her patchwork rabbit fur jacket and ran a warm gloved hand over her husband's hard thigh. She loved Orin to the bottom of her soul and appreciated the honesty of their relationship. Never had he cheated on her, and Mona wouldn't think of looking desirously at another man... though a little flirting now and then never hurt anybody. On this solid ground they'd lived in marital bliss for four years, taking a yearly vacation, usually in winter because Mona hated snow and loved bikinis... especially the tiny string kind. Four days ago they'd returned from a ten day holiday in Jamaica.
Tanned as wheat and proud of it, Mona Bradley licked the softness of her glossy pink lips and glanced up into her husband's smoothly shaven face, admiring his unharried expression and snickering at his sunburned, peeling nose. She'd told him to use sunblock, but Orin did things in his own natural, slow-motion exactness. Like driving across town in this Arctic blast without sliding into a ditch... and for the skimpy purpose of indulging his wife's vanities.
And he was good to his 'bunny' and pleased her in every way possible... or tried to. Sure, some nights his performance in bed would make Don Juan wince, but sex was merely the frosting of love and, armed with that moot truism, he did his best... but by God, sometimes the woman was insatiable!
"Not much time before the store closes, Bunny," Orin turned off the ignition and frowned at the infinitely stormy skies. "Are you sure they sell sunlamps!"' His rubber-soled hunting boots crunched on the newly fallen snow like jaws working on a mouthful of peanuts.
"Of course they do! Oh, they have to! I'll just die if my tan fades before the New Year's Eve party." Mona's blonde curls bounced girlishly as she slammed her car door shut. "This is a thousand dollar tan, hon. Think of it as an investment."
Under the brim of his knit cap, Orin's expression faded grimly. To refuse Mona anything made him feel impotent and it took so little to put a smile on that pouty, full-lipped mouth of hers... but this spending had to cease. The filling station was still in the red from last year's crippling snow storms, compounded by the gas shortage the year before. He still owed the State Bank of Buffalo for the thousand dollar tan that Mona sported like a new mink coat.
Mona slipped her arm through his. "Don't worry about the money, darling. I'll just open a charge account."
Orin gulped, turned ashen and it wasn't from the reflection of the snow now ankle deep and fresh and fluffy. "Orin, honey...? Are you feeling okay?"
Mona's black mascara caked eye lashes fluttered over her high, tanned cheekbones. Like April sunshine glaring on winter's snow, Orin melted every time he gazed into his wife's beautiful face. Her satin smooth tan, the color of a newborn fawn, accentuating her limpid turquoise eyes that cast him a helpless, baby-innocent look that sparked straight toward his manhood and made it stand up at attention! His hand ran over the fuzzy fur of her rabbit jacket, marveling at the perfect covering for his wife's soft, lush full-bosomed beauty.
The automatic department store doors swooped open and blasted them with warm air. Pulling off her leather gloves, Mona unzipped her fur jacket, letting the juicy melons of her ripe breasts jut out from beneath the red turtle neck sweater beneath.
"Honey, I know our checking account is down to a goose egg, so I'll just run up to the credit department and fill out an application for a charge card."
Obediently, Orin plucked his beanie from his brown matted-down curls, thrust his chilly hands into his overcoat pockets and sauntered idly about the first floor while his wife's voluptuously cupped buttocks, hugged snugly in black wool pants, disappeared up the escalator, heading for the fourth floor. Orin hated shopping and something about the nakedly sheer negligees clinging to white marble manikin legs, piles of lacy, ribboned bikini panties folded up on tables and the flimsy French brassieres that could cover only the nipples of a woman's milky breasts gave him the jitters. In the midst of a provocative day-dream of Mona prancing about in a flouncy bottomed peignoir, the color of nude flesh, a voice broke through.
"Ain't exactly shopping weather, is it?" the uniformed guard grinned, one foot braced upon the sand-filled tray by the door. "Just about everybody's gone home for the day. By God, I think you might be one of the few customers left in the store."
"Oh" Orin's kind blue eyes blinked. Hell of a fix that would be... snowbound in a department store.
"Don't know if any of us'll get outta here if she don't stop." The armed guard flicked a cigarette out of his pack, offering one to Orin who refused, and lit it, stared out the glass doors at the solid white sheet which seemingly had no beginning and no end.
Orin, not one for idle conversation, contemplated the snow, accumulating thick as the devil's transgressions outside in the parking lot where a dozen or so cars, caked with snow, sat deserted as toys in a wet sandbox. Nervously he pawed his knit cap, casting furtive glances over the jewelry counter toward the empty escalator. Orin had a lot to be jittery about. If the business office telephoned his bank for credit verification, Mona would find out he'd borrowed the money for the vacation and she'd feel guilty for insisting on Jamaica when Florida would have been cheaper.
* * * * *
Except for a few stragglers picking over albums in the record department and a couple browsing over the furniture sale, Mona noticed the lack of shoppers and fearful of the store closing, she bolted toward the credit department.
"Yes, may I help you?" a rather dry voice greeted. At one glimpse of the out-of-season tanned face and sleek, generous figure, the somber black eyes that belonged to it lit up a long face topped with a receding hairline. Something about this brown-suited man reminded Mona of Uriah Heep, that horrid Dickens' character.
"I've come to fill out a credit application." She flashed him a melting grin.
His long cigarette-stained fingernails groveled around on his messy desk and handed her a form. "Fill this out, please."
The credit manager's hawkish woman-hungry eyes bored into Mona's firm red mountains peeking out from the deep valley of her opened jacket, his thin nose twitching like a hungry rabbit, and his beady eyes all but burned holes in her jersey, trying to make out the dim penciled outline of her puffy nipples jutting out from beneath the fine lace brassiere that supported their creamy burden.
Mona's lush buttocks flattened as she sat down on the chair and filled out the application. With the tip of her pink tongue peeking out between even teeth, she signed it in her generous scroll, exaggerating the M in Mona, and handed it to the credit manager.
"I'll have to call the bank first and verify your credit rating." While Nick Harrington picked up the telephone, Mona toyed with her diamond wedding ring. Her heart fluttered when he rested the silent receiver back on the cradle.
"Sorry... no answer at the bank. Why don't you come back on Monday and we'll..."
Mona bit her lip and wailed. "I can't come back later. It'll be too late by then! Ohhhh!" she whimpered. "A check..." Her turquoise eyes pleaded. Let me write you a check."
Nick Harrington rested back in his chair, twirling his thumbs, shaking his head sternly. "Store policy... no checks without bank authorization."
Spidery eyelashes fluttered over Mona's high cheekbones, spotted needlessly with rouge. Casting him a flirtatious grin, she leaned far over the desk, the weight of her bosom resting two inches from the credit manager's sweating palm. "I'll do anything... Mr...." She strained to read his store employee badge. "...Mr. Harrington... Nick... You see, I just got back from Jamaica and I have to get a sun lamp to keep up..." she said in a throaty voice.
Nick pooched out his livery lips and shook his head in a show of authority. Below the desk his penis jerked and he pressed it down with the heel of his palm. His monotone voice failed to show his excitement. "Do you have a part time job?"
Mona sat voluptuously straight. "I... I sell Avon products... how silly of me to forget. I guess I depend too much on my husband." Mona blushed at her lie... but she had delivered products once last summer for her neighbor away on vacation.
With an impatient grin, Nick Harrington marked a box on Mona's application. "Name of employer?" His black, shallow eyes reminded Mona of her pet canary.
"Avon..."
"Your supervisor, I mean."
"Supervisor...? Well, uh... Gosh, I... Sara Woodward." The name came to her from the lotion bottles on the sale table downstairs next to the escalator. "Telephone 762-1937."
Mona Bradley was hardly the criminal type, and certainly had no intentions of incriminating herself, but she had to have that sun lamp before her bronze tan turned to a dull splotchy peel! Orin's old girl friend Karen Tucker would be swishing around at the New Year's Eve party in her long chiffon dress and beehive hair-do and it would make her mouth water with jealousy to see Mona sauntering in brown as a coconut fresh from Jamaica!
Her spirits fell with the snow outside the windowless office and she gulped with difficulty as the cunning credit manager dialed the number. His conversation with Jackson Plumbing Company was curt. Eyebrows raised, he set the receiver back on the cradle. After thirteen years of working in the credit department, he could pick a lie from the truth like fuzz from a black sweater, and this woman who was bursting out of hers was one conniving lady!
"Mrs. Bradley, there is no Sara Woodward at that number." His voice, dry as day old toast, was buttered with accusations. "You don't work for Avon, do you?"
The wrinkles on his forehead where hair once grew, smoothed, while his penis grew satin tight in the cotton cage of his boxer shorts. The wily woman-monger enunciated his threat casually. "You are guilty of fraud. Do you have any idea what this could do to your husband's credit rating?" He nonchalantly plucked the application from the desk, gave it a cursory inspection, and tossed it down. "He could lose his filling station..."
Her response was hysterical... somewhere in between laughter and crying... and it bubbled from her chest in a nervous titter. "Oh, oh, oh my God!" Two wheat-tanned hands flew to her mouth. "Please believe me... I didn't mean to get Orin in trouble... I oh God, I'll do anything if you won't report me. You can hold anything I have as collateral... anything!"
Ten nervous fingers fumbled through her wallet looking for the credit cards before she remembered Orin had them. Desperately, she started twisting off her diamond wedding ring that hadn't slipped off her finger since Orin had put it there four years past.
Fear blazed in her brain as she helplessly watched the smirking credit manager lift the receiver and dial zero.
"Police, please." His eyes were leveled on hers.
"Lord, what are you doing?"
Nick cast her a sinister grin. "Calling the police department. Fraud is against the law, you know. You signed this application and blatantly lied." Licking his beefy lips, he let the receiver dangle from his hand and drew in a deep breath. "Of course there are other ways of settling the matter." From the tips of her honey curls to the diamond chips of her spiking nipples, Nick Harrington's lust gleaming orbs examined the merchandise of Mona Bradley's lushly enticing body.
"I'll do anything... just don't involve poor Orin in this mess!" she whimpered, her button chin quivering.
"Anything, lady?" Nick's bushy eyebrows raised suggestively, wrinkling his naked forehead. "Well... ah, in that case!"
Wolf whistles and sexual taunts were second nature to Mona, who stood up, exaggerating her posture, making the mounds of her breasts grow to Mount McKinley heights, pursed her lips, dumped her wallet back into her purse and snapped it shut with finality.
"Really, Mr. Harrington... I'll report you to your supervisor." Her nose wrinkled up in disgust. "What do you take me for? I'm a happily married woman."
Nick Harrington took her affront personally. Bolting to his feet, he pounded his fist on the desk and turned livid. "I'll have you arrested if you step foot out of this office!"
Chapter Two
Downstairs on the first floor of Joseph's Department Store, Orin Bradley's patience had withered to a toothpick. Where was Mona? One by one, he watched angry shoppers stomp defeatedly back into the department store, shake their heads disgruntledly and brush the snow from their shoulders.
"God damn, son-of-a-bitch!" sputtered a salesman ,blowing his frost-bitten dripping nose after spending fifteen minutes shoveling out his car only to have it slide into the culvert bordering the department store. "There ain't no way in hell I'm gonna get home, and my wife's gonna bitch at me for playing around on her. That's just great!"
"Yeah, Chester, I don't know why in hell they didn't close the store this morning." The armed guard rested his hands on the heavy leather gun holster hugging his hips while empathetic eyes surveyed the nefariously frozen fairyland of the Joseph's Department Store parking lot. "Nothin' short of an army tank's gonna get us outta here." Pushing back his hat, he scratched his head.
Orin Bradley let out an angry whimper and cast his eyes toward the escalator, contemplating searching for his wife in the playland maze of the store and dragging her home while they could still get there... sunlamp or no sunlamp!
* * * * *
Up on the fourth floor, vacated save for a few faithful employees, Nick Harrington bolted the door of the furniture storage room stacked high with the mattresses still in plastic wrappers. The delivery men were off due to inclement weather and with no customers to wait on, what salesman would venture there, he rationalized to himself with a lewd snicker. Often before, he'd used this room as a cheap motel room when a tear-faced customer couldn't pay her bill and was threatened with bill collectors. Worked fine every time. Why not with this dumb blonde bomb-shell sitting sprawled out atop a Seeley Posturpedic mattress looking like the helpless prey of a wily fox!
A shiver of dread snaked up Mona's spine, feeling like a wild animal must when the steel jaws of the trap are sprung and snap down painfully on a tender paw. How could she have been so ignorant and selfish as to jeopardize Orin's filling station for the sake of a silly suntan! Oh, the follies of vanity!
"You're quite a woman, Mona," Nick murmured, stretching out on the crinkly mattress next to her, his hands creeping up to caress Mona's wool-covered thighs and easing up to the waist band to unzip the metallic trap guarding her femininity. She didn't help him when he slithered the tight skinny pants down over her hips and pulled them off her slender legs. His cold fingers snaked up her smooth flesh as his gently massaging hand caressed her creamy skin. If not for the sake of her marriage, at least for her dignity, she had to try one last plea. "Please...? Can't we forget it. I didn't buy anything! I didn't steal!" Her turquoise eyes turned a watery blue.
He eyed her luscious gullibility and almost imperceptibly, her thighs, tan as creamy coffee, slid apart involuntarily, the feeling of helpless defeat overwhelming. Confidently, Nicks hand scouted the way. His hand was suddenly at its destination, there on the warmly throbbing mound of her femininity, his fingers searching along the flimsy nylon panties that just barely covered her warmly moistened pubic slit. Slowly, his boney outstretched middle slipped in under the elastic legband and, before her fevered mind registered the moment, he was caressing the already blood-swollen lips of her wetly
pulsating pussy. The sexy feel of her warm, young sex-flesh, the softness of her sparse, golden pubic curls tickling his exploring fingers inflamed Nick with an urgency to follow his fingers with the hardness of his massively erect cock.
"Ohhhh... don't touch me there! Nobody but Orin ever touches me there!" whimpered Mona, sitting stoically still except for splaying her thighs slightly a little more, as his fingers turned her into a morass of sensations. She was getting hot... against her will. The sensitive nerve endings of her responding cunt were signaling a readiness to be titillated... and satisfied, and she wanted neither. Not with this horrid man!
She would submit to him for Orin's sake... to save his filling station and their marriage... but that didn't mean she would enjoy it. And oh, God, his halitosis breath bathing her neck was making her hair curl! It'll be over with in a few minutes. A tiny moan escaped her lips. "Oh, please, Mr. Harrington... d-don't...!"
He was leaning over her, ready to kiss her with his beefy lips, red and chapped. "Nick's the name..." he grated and kissed her hard, pressuring his pointed tongue through her wetly parted lips to stab probingly into her hot mouth as his arm snaked around her trim waist to crush her voluptuously trembling body close to his. Below, his fingers played at the moistened mouth of her hotly throbbing cuntal split, dipping just inside her furry pussy lips with sensuous insistence, then moving upward under her nylon panties to find the oily pink marble of her clitoris.
For such a scrawny man, Nick Harrington was strong, and Mona was thinking just that when she moaned up into his mouth as his extended middle finger made contact with her sensitive little nerve bud, and her hips moved under her in a writhing, but futile attempt to escape his tantalizing fingering.
Ohhh... it felt so delicious! Why didn't Orin tease her like that instead of rolling her over, sticking his penis in and finishing himself off after a few grunts.
Adultery, hot fudge sundaes, and her fading tan couldn't get Mona's mind off the teasing brushings along the hot length of her clitoris where sparks seemed to fly! In a few more gyrations, her writhing hips were thrusting up with a fevered urgency against his pencil-thin finger. Mona stiffened. What am I doing, acting like a slut? I'm acting like I really want him to do it to me, just like when Orin gets me all worked up! Oh, God, I'm ready to cheat on Orin! That, she had never intended on doing.
As Mona's body went rigid, Harrington pulled his head back, breaking the kiss, and looked down into her face quizzically.
What's the matter now?"
"Oh, I can't cheat on my husband!"
"Your hot little cunt, or the filling station!" snarled Nick emphatically. "Anyway... he wouldn't pass up the chance for a good screw... and you know it!" He gave her pussy a hard jab that made her mouth drop open. "Now, get those clothes off so we can get out of here before the damned store closes!"
Leadenly, Mona undressed. Turning her back to him, she pulled her sweater up over her head and tossed it aside. As she reached back to unclasp her brassiere, she felt Harrington's clawish hands already there unhooking it. Leaning forward, she shed the brassiere, letting the fullness of her creamy breasts pop free, her nipples puckering at their first breath of fresh air.
Nick's hands, itchily grasping for their pliant softness, groped around her from behind, squeezing and kneading their satiny warmth like so much bread dough. As he dug his fingers into her mammary flesh, the coned-out, berry-like nipples spiked out hard against the palms of his hands. Mona tolerated his brutal caresses as he mashed her breasts with the hardness of his hands, while his chapped lips kissed the baby softness of her neck nape, causing indescribable tingling sensations to flash through her aroused body. Below, in the small of her tanned back, he felt the huge, warmly throbbing bulge of his penis pressing up tight against her back, seeping pre-cum smearing it on her naked flesh from the eye of his blood-engorged cock.
"Oh, Oooohhhh..." she whimpered, unable to control herself. It was this way with Orin too. God, just the feel of a man's strength next to her frail, feminine body made her collapse in a mass of goosebumped, aroused flesh. Half an hour ago she would have punched somebody in the nose, had they suggested she would cheat on Orin... and she would have torn their eyes out if they'd dared intimate she would enjoy the feel of another man's hands on her naked flesh!
"Jesus, what a tan! I'd love to see you in the bikini!" He licked his lips, gazing down at the brown border of her tanned back that dipped well below the cleft of her round, tight buttocks.
Mona's shoulders quivered in helpless desire. Steeling herself, she resigned her body to its fate and told herself she wouldn't become emotionally involved with this horrid man. Somehow... I've got to get it over with... before Orin comes looking for me!
Lithely writhing from his grasp, Mona stripped off her dampened panties and lay down on the bed, her thighs spread obscenely. Looking up at her credit manager with a feigned expression of boredom, she said; "H-Here I am. Let's get this over with." Inside her bosomy chest, her heart pounded with an impatience that tingled all the way down to her marbly clitoris.
With a lewd snicker, Harrington began pulling off his own clothes. "By the time I'm finished fucking you, you'll want more. I know your type. I could tell you were lying."
I'll be lucky if he's got anything down there between those skinny legs, winced Mona to herself, wondering how such a tall beanpole of a man could be virile. He's probably got a twig for manhood! She heard the sigh of cloth on skin, and knew he had stepped out of his trousers. Opening one turquoise eye, she saw him remove his shorts, releasing his twig that looked more like a log! My God! He's so big! Her eyes jeweled in surprise. Nick caught her look and chortled gloatingly.
"Admiring my cock, heh?" He reached down and flapped its hardness at her. "Big as Orin's?"
"N-No! You're a child compared to my husband!" she lied.
"Oh, is that so? Well, flop over on your belly, bitch and let's give this child some sex education." Nick sat down on the edge of the stone-hard mattress and reached out for the trembling blonde who'd obediently changed her position, his fingers tracing the outlines of her shivering alluring contours lightly drawing them down over her back and across the swelling, softly pliant moons of her lush, plumply rounded buttocks; down over the tapered thighs he moved, allowing them to drift back up the soft, satin-like flesh of her bronze inner thighs to the twin protuberances of her smooth untanned bottom, where he paused to knead and caress the warmth of her lotion-soft flesh. His fingers, gentle and light the instant before, were now hard and brutal as they dug deliriously in hard to leave red welts on her alabaster ass cheeks as if to brand her.
Again she moaned, partly in pain and undeniably, too, because of the hot passion sparking through her body. "Why d-don't you just go ahead and do it to m-me! I won't tell anybody that you raped me!"
"Raped you? You're here because you wanted to be here."
"No... no, I'm not!" she wailed down into the plastic wrapped mattress that felt devilishly cold against her fevered skin.
"Well see..." His voice had modulated, a little softer now, as he continued. "What kind of man would I be if I didn't oblige a woman who wants to be fucked?"
His reasoning escaped her for the time being. God! How she wished this ordeal was over with. Over and over, she promised herself she wouldn't sign any more papers without Orin there to justify it. And afterwards...? How could life ever be the same again? Certainly she could never shop at Joseph's again... and they had such fine sales, too!
Suddenly, the snaky feel of his moistly warm lips were on her neck kissing her, his tantalizing tongue tracing down along her spine, as he crouched nakedly over her, his stone-hard penis spearing out from the wiry patch of his pubic hair. His mouth and tongue were caressing the satiny skin of her cream-white buttocks, sending tiny chills of sensual anticipation flashing along her nerve endings, telegraphing obscene messages to her pussy below. On downward along the softly smooth taper of her thighs, to the backs of her knees, the curve of her calves and her ankles, he kissed and licked like a mother cat cleaning her kittens. On the return trip, his tongue paid homage to the inside of her thighs as he levered them further apart.
High-voltage sensations rippled through her as Harrington's teasing tongue burrowed deep into the dark mystery of the crevice between her buttocks, the curling tip of his tongue licking at the tiny, puckering opening of her anus. Mona shivered and recoiled involuntarily as the new and surprisingly erotic sensations shimmered like desert heat devils through the core of her being.
Then, his mouth was gone from that sensitive spot and roving upward again; finally, after what seemed like eons, he was back at the nape of her neck. Now, it was in her ears, where his agile tongue licked all around the rim, then tantalized the hole with its pointed, teasing tip.
Shuddering with lurid excitement, Mona's blood-red fingertips clawed at the plastic wrapper that was her sheet, wadding it up in crinkly balls in the palms of her
sweating fists. Everything seemed to concentrate there in that hotly throbbing hole up between her legs, and then radiate outward to her belly, her breasts, her arms and legs. Even on the smooth skin of her back his moist kisses lingered.
Oh, he's driving me bananas! Orin never did that to me... oh, God, he's making me want him... and he's such an ugly, disgusting man!
"You can turn over now, Mona! I want to see if the front is as yummy as the back!"
Complying, Mona flipped over on the noisy mattress, thinking: Maybe he'll do it now! Fervently, she wished that... wanting this torment to end.
* * * * *
Downstairs, Orin Bradley blew his nose and rubbed his hands, trying to get the feeling back in them after a shivering trip to the parking lot to see if his blue Toyota had found itself a home in the white snowdrift of parking area E. His fears, well founded, pounded in his ears along with the pain of frostbite.
* * * * *
Four stories up in the mattress warehouse, Nick Harrington crooned over Mona's naked body, his tongue darting across the tip of a distended, coral pink nipple, his hotly salivating mouth widening to take in the whole of it, including the goose-bumped areola between his hungrily sucking lips. His other bony hand stroked the swollen fullness of the other breast, cupping and massaging the tanned, white-patched mound of whipped cream flesh, kneading it hard as his thumb and forefinger teasingly rolled the painfully puckered, berry-like nipple.
The rampaging erotic shock of his touch made Mona mewl deep in her chest, shamefully realizing that she wanted this strange man's rock hard penis fucking
pell-mell into her seeping cunt. And he hasn't even touched me down there! Hard on the heels of this crushing self-knowledge came a devastating thought: God! I'll be an adulteress... not because he raped me, but because I wanted it! Lord forgive me, but I want him to fuck me until I'm knock-kneed... the way my husband should, but doesn't!
Now Nick's demoralizing tongue was trailing with tantalizing slowness down across the flat white plane of her belly, stopping momentarily to screw flickingly into the shallow jewel of her navel; then, as his slobbering mouth tickled the sparse, golden blonde curls of her pubic thatch, Mona's body lurched. He's going to kiss my vagina!
Orin had never tried using his mouth on his luscious wife down there between her legs; certain Mona would disapprove of such vulgar lovemaking. God! She clamped her desire-trembling legs tight together to deny Nick entrance there, but unexpectedly then, she felt him leapfrog downward to her thighs. As his moist kisses worked slowly back up toward her warmly quivering pussy, it was his hand that probed, his outstretched middle finger insinuating into the soft, hair-lined crease at the top and pressuring downward until he discovered the hidden bud of her clitoris throbbing in wild anticipation. Lightly, he brushed the tip of his pointed finger over it, petting it, stroking it, feeling it harden under the soft pressure of his finger. The nakedly crouching credit manager grunted with satisfaction as he felt her tightly clenched thighs relax ever so slightly.
It occurred to Mona that she ought to say something to cut through the ugly sounds of his slobbering tongue licking over her body, but her will and volition had melted like April ice. The mass of erotic sensations overburdening her nervous system took charge mutinously and the aroused young wife couldn't keep her legs, guarding the succulent pink treasure of her womb, tightly pressed together. With a sinking feeling, Mona realized this virtual stranger had stolen command of her body.
With a grunt, Harrington's nearly bald head dropped down between her erotically shivering thighs, while his hands worked at her knees, spreading and raising them so that her vagina was an open door to him. For a hungry instant, his gloating eyes devoured the delicious groveling feast before him; the pink petals of her vagina with the blonde furry coat glistening with her cuntal juices. It was almost like breaching a succulent shellfish to get at the goodies inside. With a suddenness too swift to follow, his hungry wet mouth clamped over her desire-ridden cunt.
"Oooohhhh... God! You can't... do that!" Mona's lust constricted voice bubbled off into a loud kittenish mewl of pleasure as his wetly licking tongue invaded her impatiently pulsating pussy.
Nick's tongue probed for a moment until he found her erect, pulsating clitoris and began to lick at it while his nostrils flared from the perfumy headiness of her cunt, driving him insane with desire, making his hairless head blush with desire.
"Like that, huh?" he gloated listening to her agonized moans as he took the bud of her clitoris between his lips and sucking on its short, hardened length for a few seconds before shifting positions again. Now he held the hard little pink clitoris between his teeth, while his tongue played a drumming beat directly on the sensitive head.
Mona was insane from the delicious torture! "Oh, Nick... don't... do that! You're driving me crazy!"
Instinctively, she knew this cruel man wouldn't stop his tormentive licking until she was a quivering mass of mindlessly aroused desire. Her vision was beginning to swim and her ears chimed with a lustful, heavenly beat. Her only thought was a shocking one: to get this man's thick cock churning deep up inside of her, fucking its hot throbbing way into the deepest depths of her wildly impatient cunt! God... when would he do it?
Just at the point where Mona was certain she would scream if he didn't stop his taunting, Nick shifted his salivating mouth downward, and his tongue slithered into the moistness of her crying cuntal mouth. She did scream then, as she felt him wetly stabbing his snaking tongue in and out of her fevered pussy. Her nakedly aroused cunt ground up into his sucking mouth as she struggled to match the fucking tempo of his tongue into that cock-hungry hole up between her frantically trembling thighs.
His head buried in the searing muskiness of her cunt, Harrington heard her loud whimpering mewls of pleasure as he swirled his velvety tongue around inside her bearded, desire-swollen cuntal mouth. He could feel the silky curls of her blonde pubic hair tickling his shaven cheeks. But he would wait her out. The hot little bitch is ready to climb the walls!
Reaching down, he pulled her long tapering legs up higher and slid his arms under them so that his shoulders wedged her thighs open wide. Draping her legs over his shoulders, he slid his hands under her softly rounded buttocks, his fingers digging cruelly into them and bruising the tender flesh when he pulled the twin moons up close and hard to his sensuously slavering mouth. His mouth fused to her genitals as if they'd been born that way!
Gnashing her teeth and grunting, Mona's red lacquered fingertips reached down to Nick's head, grabbing a tight hold to the few strands of hair they found there and pulled him in harder against her. She'd turned into an animal, lost and mindless in the heat of the season... sex, sensuality, sensation... and the damnable need for orgasm was her world.
"Oh, Ooohhh, Oooohhh, My Gooodddd! Do-do it to me! Now, oh, God, p1ease do it to me now! She moaned in agonized frustration.
Nick Harrington's head raised from her steaming pussy and his mouth, dripping and glistening with her female juices, opened into a lecherous grin.
"Oh, don't look at me like that!" quivered Mona. "Just do it to me and get it over with!" She closed her eyes to blot out the gloating leer of his triumph over her. "You animal!" she spat suddenly.
"Hey, if that's your attitude, I'll stop right now and let you finger-fuck yourself," he grated at her.
True to his word, Nick kept his threat as he crawled off the plastic-wrapped mattress and stood nakedly glaring down at her, his long massive purpled erection spearing out, a drop of pre-cum pearling at the tip. With an ugly-lipped smile, he wagged his cock at her and stroked it with one hand, petting it. "This is what you want, isn't it! You want to feel this little beauty fucking in and out of your cunt until you cum!"
Mona felt a great fear of being abandoned on the brink of what she knew would be one of her most intensely powerful orgasms ever. "Ohhh, don't tease me!" Her trembling hands reached down to her own screamingly aroused cunt and she slipped a long nailed finger into the seeping pink groove to find the oily nub of her clitoris, giving it a few polishing strokes as her naked hips gyrated wildly and her breath came in loud, spasming rasps. Her turquoise eyes glazed insanely as she clawed animalishly at her searing cunt. For that instant in time, she was sure she was all cunt... a hotly throbbing cunt that needed a long hard cock to peg up her seeping hole!
Mona grew frantic, almost delirious with the need to cum. It was no good, she knew dimly, to continue her masturbation, as her eyes focused then locked onto the huge shaft of meaty male flesh that Harrington held in his hand, using it as a carrot before the horse.
With a loud groan, Mona pulled her tanned legs up, her knees almost to her bosom and splayed her thighs as wide as they would go, exposing the whole of her pink, glistening pussy to him, as her hips ground uncontrollably under her in the lewd rhythm of intercourse. With lust-trembling hands, she reached down with her red fingertips and slowly parted the petals of her swollen pink pussy lips far apart in an unmistakable, obscene invitation to the gloating credit manager.
From the depths of her humiliation, she begged him, "For Godsakes, Nick! F-fuck me! Fuck me before I lose my mind!" Good, kind Orin, her fading suntan, and a falsified credit application were all forgotten in one wild, screaming demand for release!
Satisfied with his domination over the blonde bimbo and her humiliating display and endeavors, Harrington crawled up onto the bed and kneeled over her, an arrogant smile of ultimate triumph on his chapped, reddened lips. "Good! Now give me a few instructions and my cock will be happy to accommodate the lady!"
His sadistically cruel smile told her explicitness was his demand. She choked, swallowing her hot saliva as her mind reviewed the four-letter obscenities that were like branding irons searing their impressions into her brain.
"I-I want you to... to f-fuck me... with your c-cock...!" she mumbled, feeling her cheeks blush with shame.
"Where?"
"In my c-cunt..."
"Okay, and how?" goaded Harrington.
"Oh, dear Lord, as hard as you can!"
That didn't satisfy Nick Harrington. "Damn it, say it all at once, so I get the message."
Like a prisoner tied to a public whipping post, Mona groaned out; "You're tormenting me!"
"I don't want any doubts in your mind! You're the one begging me to fuck you... Isn't that right?"
"Yes, oh, God, anything you say!" Tears of frustration pooled in her aqua eyes. "Please, Nick, fuck me... in my cunt!"
He wedged his hips down between her widespread thighs, the head of his achingly pounding cock nestling down into the blonde-furred openness of her dripping pussy lips.
"Okay, if you want it, stick it in yourself!"
The guillotine blade of guilt snapped on her psyche, and Mona let out a soul-searing wail. "Oooohhh Gawdddd!" Reaching down, her tiny hand only partially encircled the girth of Nick's hot penis, and with deliberate care, she slipped it between the seeping lips of her cunt.
Holding himself above her, Harrington flexed his hips slightly and forced his bulbous cock head inch by tormentive inch into the elastic opening of her hungering, moistly ready cunt.
Flat on her back beneath him, Mona's mouth fell with the realization that his cock head would stretch her vagina beyond endurance, that he would rip her apart. She tensed in fear, the stretching pressure straining her flesh like a criminal tied on medieval rack.
"Ooooaaaggghhh! You're too big!"
"Damn it, would you quit being so nervous?"
"Oh, please, I can't stand it!"
Her tortured eyes begged him for mercy, but, through her tears, she noticed his sadistic pleasure as inch by heated inch, his cock bored into her wetly cringing cunt, until suddenly with a satisfied gasp, he rammed forward into her tightly resisting pussy with the force of a stallion.
Mona screamed again, the stacked up mattresses absorbing her cries.
"Take it out, pleeeze!" She would be forever stretched and Lord, what if Orin noticed she wasn't as tight as she used to be?
"Hell, no... I just got it in!" he countered, as his bludgeoning length pummeled into her, pushing the moistly warm walls of her velvety cuntal lining before it until, with a resounding smack, his sperm-heavy balls slapped up against the smooth white cheeks of her nakedly upturned buttocks.
He lay immobile for a moment before flexing his throbbing cock deep up inside the hugging walls of her cunt, his hips grinding to gouge his penis a fraction of an inch deeper into her tight cunt.
Soon, the delicious sensual feelings, earlier masked by his painful entrance, came flooding back on her and her moaning mewls of pain were gradually replaced with gurgles of unequivocal pleasure.
Nick began a grinding motion (something Orin had never done) swinging his hips from side to side in circles, boring his cock head deeper into the darkness of her womb. Stretched and relaxed, her cuntal walls gushed with happy juices, feeding the fire of her wild naked loins that gyrated, ground and undulated under her tormentor.
The signals were there: it was time to really fuck her. So help me, God, I'm gonna fuck her till I squirt it out her fucking throat!
The credit manager raised himself on hands and knees above her squirming body to get the most powerful leverage possible and began to rock backward and forward using short, smooth strokes that gradually lengthened and deepened with increasing speed. He felt the wetly clinging inner tissue of her cunt squeezing around the entire length of his rock hard cock as if to strangle it. God, she's got a tight cunt!
As for Mona, her surrender was complete and unconditional. Deep in her loins the summer heat lightning of lust flashed from nerve ending to nerve ending in almost endless ecstasy of sensation, and grounding in the close, moist tightness of her cuntal sheath. She responded to this stranger in a way she never expected... and truthfully, though fate be damned... never had Orin ever filled her cunt so deliciously. Wriggling under him, she welcomed every body jarring thrust with a bucking counterstroke of
her own, fucking him back with all the strength of her hot little five-foot-two body. Sweat dribbled from her forehead to dampen the kinky blonde curls tickling her forehead and a pool of perspiration was accumulating in the heated valley of her cleavage.
Nick dropped his wet mouth to hers, capturing her lust-parched lips between his thirst quenching ones and she lashed her tongue deep into his throat to be sucked, thrusting it in and out to the tempo of his hard boring cock ramming in and out of her raging pussy below. Moaning up into his face, willing to accept anything and everything he would give her, she slid her lubricated cunt up and down the thick fucking length of his cock. Her lovely face distorted with lustful animality, eyes glazed unseeingly, nostrils flaring wide as her breath came in loud rasping pants, she was lost to everything but the lurid sexual dance they performed as they fucked each other with everything they had.
As many times as she'd lain beneath her husband Orin, she hadn't known the true ecstasy of the fulfilled woman until this instant when a stranger fucked her like she'd never been fucked before, against her will, against her better judgment... almost raping her. With Orin, she faked her orgasms with a lurch at the right moment, a groan and a grunt; she had given him pleasure, but received none in return. Now her female curiosity was peaked to the exploding point.
"Fuck me hard, Nick!" gasped Mona, feeling the heartbeat of her cunt pound throughout her body in a drumbeat of lust. "Harder! Oh Gawd, fuck me harder!" She knew her words would titillate him, and let him know she was loving every moment of it. "Oh, like thaaaat! Deeeep! Oh Gawd, deeeeper!"
Nick Harrington's blood-fed penis gored into Mona's slippery-wet pussy and without a second thought, he slid a hand over the smooth skin of her gyrating buttocks, feeling the muscles rippling below the softness of her warm naked flesh, until his probing finger found her tightly puckered little anus. Dipping the tip of his bony finger into the hot juice that dribbled in copious dewdrops from her cunt, he lubricated the digit and aimed the tip against the rubbery softness of her nether ring. As he touched the button for the first time, Mona stiffened and rasped hot breath into his ear.
Gouging into her tight little sphincter, he panted. "Now, lady, I'm gonna shove my finger up your asshole!"
Though the image of his face was dimmed, Mona knew that was exactly what her body had been crying for. His telling her was a further incitement... like an ancient aphrodisiac. Delirious rapture swept over her and she wanted to be hurt too... to be able to feel everything, to scream in masochistic ecstasy. To scream was only normal when you were being raped... wasn't it? Of what need was pride?
"Yes! Oh, God! Shove your finger up my ass!" she strangled out.
Harrington pushed hard and his finger popped inside the warm sponginess of her puckering rectum until the palm of his hand slapped against her buttocks. Mona screamed hoarsely as his finger wormed slitheringly in past the resisting ring of elastic muscle
that stretched with rubberband ease. Nick, who considered himself quite an expert in the field of anal novelties, instinctively knew this was a virgin asshole that his finger was exploring, and the knowledge caused him to gasp with the possibilities for her next time..
And there will be a next time... she's not off the hook yet. Somehow, somewhere our paths will cross, especially if I pull this fraud rap!
Mona hadn't known before now, that pain and pleasure could mix and, even now, as the bittersweet agony pressured inside her rectum, she felt her muscles adjusting to the painful presence of his middle finger. She grunted and groaned, twisted and wriggled, straining to absorb both his finger and penis at the same time into her insanely demanding loins.
Now, Nick's finger moved in concert with the purple log of his cock, and he could feel the extra bulge his finger made in the thin tissues separating her two pelvic passages. The increased pressure and friction was concentrated along the extremely sensitive under side of his aching penis, increasing the delicious stranglehold on his cock. Christ, I'll be cumming in a few seconds if I keep this up!
Beneath him, Mona, now a sweating mass of baby soft flesh ground her seeping pussy up and down his nearly exploding cock with fury, her legs jerking, toes curling and hips nakedly gyrating as though she were trying to get ahold of Nick's cock and pull it out by the roots.
Harrington felt the searing, acid burn of his impending ejaculation back there behind the swelling of his loaded balls, and he jerked his finger from her tightly sucking anus with a moist, popping hiss.
Using both hands, he roughly pressed her knees back to her ballooning tits, cruelly mashing her plump breasts flat to her ribcage like a pair of fat hamburger patties. He could see that her quivering, breasts were sprinkled with the glistening sweat-drops of her passion as he fucked his brutal penis into her sucking, syrupy-wet pussy with bestial fury, boring into her aching, pussy like a hydraulic forging hammer.
"Give me all of your cock, Nick!" she groaned. "Fuck me...! Oh! Oh, Gawwwdd! Fuck me! FUCK ME!" Her innocent baby face was contorted into a wanton mask of passion as she struggled to make that one final step into orgasm, only seconds away.
Nick thrust and plunged, caught up in an ecstatic jackhammering rhythm as he levered himself powerfully against her soft flesh. Her shapely body was bent over doubled, with her arms and legs imprisoned by the straining muscles of his powerful arms. He had never known a woman who could take all of his loggish cock like this, who could stand up to his full onslaught and continue to ask for more.
In a cold shiver, Mona convulsed beneath him. It started in her crinkled nipples and shot straight out to her tiny finger tips and down to curl under her polished toenails. The electrical circuit of orgasm bolted down to her tingling clitoral bud and shot up to her cervix, where her cuntal muscles clasped Nick's penis in a hammerlock hold. The blonde housewife was rocketing to heights where time and space were meaningless approximations and for a second she was one with infinity... until she opened her eyes to stare woefully up into Nick's smug, snarling face as he slammed his molten spear deeper into her frantically nibbling cunt in his own selfish drive for release.
Dreamlike, she heard her own voice but didn't recognize its unnatural earthiness.
"Ohhhh! God help me... I'm... I'm, cummmming!" she squealed.
Harrington felt the rhythmic tremors of her pink wet bear trap squeezing his exploding penis, and with a final effort, he pounded into her, plumbing her wetly throbbing vagina until his cock nearly doubled over at the end.
"Ohhhhh..." His moan sounded like air escaping from a punctured tire as his scalding sperm hosed through the blood swollen length of his ejaculating cock with satisfying force, splashing deep up into her milking young womb, as it spurted from the tiny slit in its madly pulsing head.
"Gawd damn, Mona, that sweet cunt is pumping me dry!" Then, with a groan, his body folded, collapsing on top of her, while below the final dregs of his hot semen still
spurt from his cock in lessening spasms of throbbing sensation.
Quiet reigned in the Joseph's Department Store mattress warehouse except for the rasp of breathing slowing to a human pace. Finally, after long moments of communion, still stickily linked together by his deflating penis, Mona stirred exhaustedly under him. "Well, Mr. Harrington, you got what you wanted, now let me up!"
A self-effacing cloud of guilt was settling over her psyche, and she wanted to be alone with her own recriminations and guilty conscience. Poor Orin... waiting so patiently for me... Lord, how can I face him now? She knew she would just die... absolutely wither up and die if she lost him! "Let me up, please, so I can get cleaned up!"
Harrington snickered sinisterly. "You aren't off the hook yet, lady. I've still got the signed application to a fraud."
"I paid dearly for that stupid mistake!" Mona flared.
"That was only for starters. I figure you owe me at least five more romps in the sack before I tear up that card!"
"Oh, God! Oh, God no! NO!" Frantically, squirming, she struggled to free herself of his dead weight. "No, you're not going to get your scummy hands on me again! Oh, no!"
Chapter Three
In the fourth floor employees' lounge Mona bolted the door and, slipping out of her black wool pants and soiled panties, ran a basin full of hot water, crinkled up a crisp paper towel, dampened it and mopped around the swollen fur-lined lips of her vagina, scrubbing away all the male essence of her adultery. Then, worriedly, she checked to make certain her IUD was still securely in place. To have intercourse with a strange man against her will was bad enough, but to get pregnant by him, that would be nothing short of a Shakespearean tragedy.
Gazing at her own reflection, she used a red lacquered fingertip to wipe away the black clown-like smudges of mascara under her eyes. Deep down in the secret corner of her heart, Mona knew she was a willing adulteress. In this age of frivolous, musical-chairs sexuality, hers was hardly headline news, but the fact that she'd reveled in it was. And all for the sake of a silly sunlamp! Oh, I'll never be that vain again... I promise, dear Lord!
To sweeten her foully defiled body, she dabbed perfume on the wheat-tanned smoothness of her inner thighs and stripped to the waist then, splashing cold water on the swollen welts branded on her breasts by Nick's kneading fingers. Baptized back to purity, she went to find her husband.
The escalator smoothed its descending path to the first floor, setting a weak-kneed Mona at her husband's feet where he leaned against the jewelry counter, a picture of composure. His patient blue eyes that usually asked no questions and expected no lies
seemed to be asking something very specific.
"Darling... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I'm sorry I'm l-late, but I had the worst time trying to find somebody to wait on me, and the credit manager... well, I didn't get the sunlamp!" She rolled her turquoise eyes at him and pooched out her pink-glossed lips in the way that always drove Orin crazy.
He didn't say much. Mona slipped her arm under his, ready to go home to a hot bath and a cup of tea. "Look, Bunny, there's no way we're gonna get home tonight in this snowstorm!" His gloved finger pointed to the sheet of snow falling thick and fluffy as the rain of ivory flakes dumped into a washing machine. Accustomed to having her own way, Mona withered at the sight of weather-beaten customers crowding in front of the door, standing in a puddle of muddy water dribbling from their boots.
"What-what are we going to do, Orin? I want to go home!" she wailed, her chin quivering like an animated button. "I've got to get out of here!" She covered her face with her hands and whimpered.
"Now don't get hysterical, honey. We'll have to patient and wait 'til it stops," reasoned Orin in his mellifluous, lullaby voice, casting her a quizzical sideways glance that asked more questions than she cared to answer.
God, he knows! I'm in trouble. I can tell from that glint in his eye. Mona shivered, not from the cold, but from the lingering snaky feel of the credit managers bony hands on her naked body.
Then it sounded, like the voice of God overhead:
The loudspeakers crackled and broke the strains of innocuous hi-fi music filtering throughout the store. "Ladies and gentlemen, Joseph's Department Store is now officially closed to business. We regret to inform you that due to weather conditions, we recommend no one attempt to drive home. Store departments will open to all stranded employees and customers. Complimentary dinner will be served in the Green Leaf Tea Room between seven and nine o'clock. Please stand by for further information..." The gusty male voice clicked off and Montovani's orchestra took his place.
"Oh, Orny!" Mona gasped and bit at her clenched fist. What are we going to do? We'll miss that party and, and..." Her voice was muffled by Orin's sweater where she'd buried her face.
Snowbound in a department store with a man who'd sworn to violate her again or charge her with fraud, causing Orin to lose his business-his life's blood! "Oh, Orin!" She sobbed.
Any fears of being alone in this damnable predicament were dispelled when a beehive of buzzing voices and tromping feet made Mona pull her face from Orin's lamb's wool sweater, and raise her eyes in incredulity as down the escalator tromped a horde of disgruntled, frowning humanity. Employees, hidden away in windowless offices and corner departments, blasted the store's lack of concern. Why weren't we told earlier? The common complaint rippled through the crowd. Straight from the fitting rooms half-dressed customers in stocking feet and crisp clothes fresh from the hangers nodded in agreement. Anger and perplexity rose from the mob in a grey aura of disgust.
At least there's safety in numbers, thought Mona. Nick Harrington won't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting his filthy hands on me with all these people around. Or would he...?
* * * * *
Upstairs in the sealed off privacy of the inner business office, the head manager of Joseph's Department Store poured himself a shot of whiskey before taking care of personal matters.
"You mean that foxy looking tanned blonde bimbo with the big boobs that was just in the office applying for credit?" Hugh Murphy rumbled from deep in his barrel chest, his pale grey eyes watching hungrily as Blanche Harrington, his secretary, leaned over to pick up the wisp of nylon panties she had just shed. Naked now, her curvy, voluptuous body was revealed to him in all its ripely mature beauty. "The one I said looked like a stripper?"
"Yes, that's the one," affirmed Blanche. "He couldn't wait to tell me every little detail about how got her in the mattress warehouse. Boy, sometimes I think he's just trying to make me quit my job here."
It was precisely Nick's philandering that had driven Blanche into Hugh's arms and ultimately to his bed. One year ago she had known Hugh only as her husband's boss. Then one day she'd happened into his office to be greeted by a tear-faced secretary who in a fit of anger dumped her belongings in a box and tromped out the door with Hugh waving his fists after her. Hugh offered Blanche the job, considering her svelte qualifications, and they became close working partners.
Somewhat foolishly, Blanche had let the subject her husband's infidelities slip into the conversation. Hugh had listened attentively and soothed her with a drink or two, and before she knew what was happening, she was in his private office, adjacent to his business office, the very room in which she was now taking off her clothes in willing anticipation. This room contained no desk, but it did have a well-stocked bar, stereo and video machine from which he could watch the activities of his employees... including those of unsuspecting customers in the department fitting rooms!
The couch was an easily convertible bed with a soft mattress... the best Joseph's furniture department had to offer... and it made the change from seductive coaxing, to sexual congress an easy one. Wily-minded Hugh convinced her of the one true way of evening the score with Nick, until at this point, she was well ahead in the race for infidelity.
Blanche looked down at his burly bulk as he lay out full length, naked on his bed, remembering how repulsive she thought his hairy body was when she had lain there nearly petrified with fear that first time as he brought her to searing arousal and ultimately to an earth-shaking climax. Now, she knew every square inch of his body as well as his filing system. Unconsciously, her eyes drifted up to his craggy face, clean shaven and smooth as his bald head. Her eyes locked onto the rock hard massiveness of his erect penis which stood up like a mighty obelisk spearing out of the dense brush of his graying pubic hair. From his private papers she'd learned his age was fifty-eight, though he hadn't slowed down sexually one pace. He was married, too, to a dark haired beauty
named Sondra who represented his third (or fourth?) attempt at matrimony. If there were other women in Hugh's life, she didn't know and knew better than to probe. Hugh had made that point clear... forceful so, but she guessed he probably did bring other women into this room. Of course she'd never know: the man was tight-lipped and secretive, and perhaps that aura of secrecy surrounding him kept her coming back to his bed.
"Did you say her name was Mona Bradley?" Hugh queried, taking Blanche into his bearish arms as came to the bed and crawled up on top of him, lowering her mouth to his and accepting his slithering tongue into the sweetness of her mouth while at the same she spread her thighs, then clamped them tightly as she captured the jackstaff of his pulsating cock in the fleshy trap between them. It lay hard and throbbing up against the naked pink flesh of her bedewed pussy.
"That's what her credit application said," she mumbled into his mouth as he flexed his hips, rubbing the thick base of his heated cock on the throbbing, vibrant shaft of her fully awakened clitoris.
Blanche felt the tingling tickle of his extremely hairy chest against the sensitive buds of her erect little nipples, and she moved them in a short repeated arc, back and forth across his chest, reveling in the tantalization. Before she had begun the affair with her
boss, she hadn't known that her breasts were so sensitive.
Hugh's paw-like hands roamed caressingly up and down her back, paying special attention to the round, protruding globes of her pliantly soft and smooth buttocks as he cupped them up, then pinched and massaged them, making ridges of her silky flesh ooze like white butter through his strong fingers. He felt her ripely naked loins undulating counteringly, as she began to slide her moistly naked cunt up and down the rock hard shaft of his cock.
Breaking the deep kiss, he rumbled in his deep bass voice; "You can go down on me this time, doll..."
"Ohhh, goood!" she breathed, agreeing instantly and giving him a bright smile. What she had learned in the months since she had been working here in Hugh's office, was that her willingness, her efforts to please him, had a direct effect upon her and Nick's standard of living. Hugh wasn't a cheap employer and raises came easily... if one followed the unspoken rules. Yet to this day, Blanche failed to decipher what her husband had ever done to warrant a raise.
She slithered nakedly down over him, pausing for a moment to lick and suck at each of his tiny nipples, burrowing down through the thick hair fuzzing his chest to get at them. Blanche knew of his secret fetish, so she bore the intense tickling his kinky chest hair produced on her lips and nose. It was a small favor in return for the complete satisfaction he gave her each time they fucked.
Hugh moaned his satisfaction with her as she knelt subserviently-her heavily ripened breasts swaying like fruit ready to be plucked-between his wide-spread legs. In one hand she held the lust-thickened shaft of his purple veined cock, while the other reached under to caress his hairy, sperm-laden balls. In spite of the erotic pleasure her feathered touch brought him, Hugh's mind was on other matters. Changes of which, Blanche was ignorant, were in the offing.
At the last board of directors meeting, he'd strongly recommended that Nick Harrington be considered for their new store opening in Fairbanks, Alaska, and it looked certain he would be transferred. In a way, Hugh hated to promote Harrington out of state, for certainly Blanche would follow. But hell... gotta tend to business!
Nakedly kneeling below him, Blanche had sucked one of his egg-sized testicles into her soft warm mouth and was gently laving it with her velvety tongue. His hands went down to her jet-black hair to smooth and caress her. In the next few moments, she had likewise sucked on his other sperm-filled ball. The feel of her hot mouth working down there between his legs gave him a whole series of erotic sensations. Then, she was licking him, her tongue flicking back along the sensitive flesh behind his scrotum until she was moistly nudging her tongue tip into the sensitive, puckered ring of her anus. He moaned and writhed under the electric charge of it, groaning. "God, Baby... that's it! Damned nice!" His wildly aching cock throbbed and lurched involuntarily... and after a minute, he gasped: "That's enough, Blanche."
His hands on her head pulled her wetly probing tongue away, then he guided her hungrily open mouth toward the bloated purple head of his pulsating cock. Her smoke-grey eyes bored up at him sexily as she murmured, "That must have given you a charge!"
"You know damned well it did! My cock yelled for attention!"
"Mmmmmmm!" she mumbled unintelligibly as her sensuous lips ovaled and slowly slid down over the heatedly pulsing head of his penis, her wet little tongue instantly beginning to swirl around the smooth, satiny flesh. One hand held the long thick shaft, while her other caressed his scrotal sac, scratching lightly with her sharp fingernails. Every now and then, she slid her middle finger back and under a little farther to press against the saliva-moistened flesh of his anus. All these tricks were things that Hugh
Murphy had taught her... small details that were a large part of her job description as his private secretary.
The audacity of lying there naked on top of the top man in Joseph's Department Store while his wife Sondra browsed through the racks of designer-made dresses down on second excited Blanche Harrington to lustful heights and, with renewed vigor, she licked at her boss's purpled knobbed cock as if it were heaven-sent nectar. Soon his cum would be hosing into her mouth, and obediently she would gulp it down, then lick him clean.
Often, she wondered how Sondra would react were she cognizant of Blanche's dedication to her employer. And, that matter, how would she, Blanche, respond if Hugh would refuse her admittance to his private office in favor of another woman's body.
After one year of faithful service to the bearish man, wasn't it time she found out?
Chapter Four
With people tromping over the onyx polished linoleum, huddled up in overcoats and sweaters, the Green Leaf Tea Room resembled more a shelter for hungry war-time refugees than it did a lady's luncheonette. Pink carnations in crystal bud vases topping the deep green gold-threaded tablecloths presented an ironic picture of propriety next to the groveling freeloaders taking advantage of the complimentary meal from the high priced delicatessen that most post-holiday bargain shoppers couldn't afford to frequent. Hungry jaws snapped like bear traps over cold chicken, smoked ham and rare roast beef, and in the free-for-all, one hefty grey haired lady elbowed her way to the front of the line and piled her plate high with crab legs, despite a barrage of four-letter invectives. The couch-minded, like the Bradley's ended up with a plate of soggy macaroni salad and a dry roll.
Outside the glass doors, the snow piled high and deep and throughout the store the crackle of prerecorded hi-fi music was interrupted now and then for local weather-reports, all disheartening as a toothache in the face of a hot fudge sundae.
Like drunken robots, the fifty some snowbound victims sauntered mindlessly around the department store, pacing from one department to the next in slow, time-consuming gaits. Some of the bargain-hunting females carried on like two-year-olds in Santa's workshops, sampling expensive French perfumes and trying on clothes either too expensive, too sheer for their sagging figures or too small. More than one seam ripped in a darkened fitting room as a size fourteen bosom slithered into a size seven gown in a ripping tug that popped buttons and tore egos. Others contented themselves in the television department watching the news from a seven foot high Advent screen, while across the floor in the stereo department, the younger s breed drowned out the TV with a combative disco beat turned up to volume ten on Slipshorn speakers. A shouting match sparked between the rivals until the teenage rogues stomped off down to the cafeteria and liquor department to see what trouble they could find there.
By midnight, most of the marauding shoppers had run out of curiosity and steam and the mad scramble for a place to call home began. Those with foresight plundered the bedding department earlier in the evening and headed on up to the furniture floor to bed down for the first night of mayhem, contentedly kicking off muddy boots and snuggling under satin sheets and coverlets, price tags dangling. The wiliest victims had scouted out portable colored television sets and vintage wine from the "Vino Gardens" in the basement and settled in for a relaxing evening of gratis accommodations. A few unmated stragglers monopolized king-sized beds in hopes of luring a cold and lonely body into warm and wanting arms. But this first night everyone was defensive as a mouse in a foxhole, and friendly acquaintances were rare as July snow.
The store had metamorphasised into a hotel with no doors and the Bradley's, who'd found a quiet corner in the children's furniture department, snuggled up like two spoons in the clown sheeted bed. Still wearing his long woolen underwear, Orin cuddled his stripped-down wife under the covers.
Mona's whimpering sobs were soothed by Orin's hand stroking her smooth forehead and, for one tremulous moment, she considered spilling everything to her compassionate husband and throwing herself on his mercy. If he can find any in his heart for me... after I've confessed. The terrifying threat that Orin's agreeable temperament might reach its tolerance point and cause him to dump her for jeopardizing his business for a stupid sunlamp stopped her; no man was expected to endure such selfishness from his lifemate. With a paralyzing, almost pathological fear, she remained painfully tight-lipped and reticent.
While Orin's snores rattled the pine bedstead, Mona's mind churned on. Over and over she reran today's episode, searching for the one factor that could set her free of Nick Harrington's evil threats. That damned application card was Joseph's Department Store's sole proof of her fraudulence. Thank God, she hadn't bought anything and charged it to her new account! She slept fitfully and awakened to the sound of eternally shuffling feet browsing boringly about the store.
Breakfast, again gratis of the Green Leaf Tea Room, still stacked with dirty dishes from last night's smorgasbord, was a solemn affair. Most of the stranded shoppers hadn't slept well, if at all, and a few who'd slipped down to the liquor department for a party sat nursing hangovers over day-old, reheated coffee. Glum and depressed over the negative weather report muffled through the twice-amplified speakers, a sniffle and blowing noses sounded ominously in the morbid crowd. Tomorrow night was New Year's Eve, a night for drinking and making merry with the one you love... not with a department store full of depressed strangers.
"The Buffalo Fire Department Rescue Squad reports that five people have been unearthed from their stranded vehicle west of here. These five deaths bring the total casualties to eleven. We advise no one to leave his shelter unless under dire emergency. Winds are whipping at forty-eight miles per hour, drifting snow obscuring visibility to zero..."
Dan, the armed guard sitting at Mona and Orin's table, grunted in disgust and shook his head. "Hell of a fix this is! My girl ain't never gonna believe why I didn't show up for New Year's Eve!"
Orin crunched on a dry breakfast roll, winced, and dipped it into his day-old reheated coffee. "Give her call."
"You kidding? Telephone lines are down. We're stuck here till the good Lord decides to shovel us out."
Mona gulped and turned snow white.
* * * * *
After breakfast, Mona left Dan and Orin to their gin rummy while she headed for the ladies room behind the lingerie department. "Frozen pipes... toilets out of order," read a sign posted to the bathroom door. Oh, that's just dandy! Now I have to go up to the fourth floor to the employees lounge. She shivered as if snake had crawled up her spine. Fears about crossing the credit manager's path and him making a lewd remark about their romp in the mattress warehouse prompted Mona to shake her head when Orin insist he come along. Still... was it her imagination, or was that a look of suspicion when she left Orin after the first hand of cards?
Enroute, she passed by the wig department and donned a long, straight black one-something she'd always wanted to try. Being blonde was fun, but a change did the heart good. The bangs curtained her satin forehead, grazing her turquoise eyes, Cleopatra-like. She congratulated herself, confident of her disguise, but absent-mindedly forgetting the out-of-season tan that stood out like the proverbial sore thumb.
The black-wigged blonde stepped coltishly past the furniture department where giggled lovemaking bubbled from a brass bedstead behind a lineup of dressers. Out of the corner of her eyes, Mona caught a naked nipple spiking out from a bosomy chest. Good God, is this what it's going to come to? Everybody doing nasty things with strangers? Mona tutted and pressed on toward the fourth floor where she finished her duties in the chilly bathroom, her attention split between the luscious effect of her raven wig and the credit card application sitting temptingly on Nick Harrington's desk, not more than one hundred feet away.
Knowing she'd caused enough turmoil from deceit, Mona tip-toed past the business office, determined to get off the cursed fourth floor before the curtains of hell descended on her once more. But the temptation at finding the door ajar flooded her better senses with foolish hope and she peeked inside at the cluttered desk, knowing her application card was amongst the litter. Holding her breath and walking on polished tip-toes, she snuck over the orange shag carpeting toward the desk. Her tiny hands fluttered over the mess, shuffling papers and scrambling for the card that would put an end to this foolishness.
She found it! Heaven is on my side! She rejoiced, closing her eyes and offering up a thanks to the Almighty, she pressed it to her chest. A gusty snarl curled her lips instantly and she'd made a half inch rip in it when a voice bellowing from in back of her, made her blood run cold as the icicles dripping from the department store eaves.
"Find what you're looking for?" a dry voice rattled. Terrorized by the evil sound of familiarity, Mona's clenched fist flew to her quivering mouth and the card fluttered from her helpless hands and floated away to the carpet several feet away, caught like a dry leaf on the breeze.
"Are you surprised to see me, Mona? Honestly, I didn't think you were that anxious." The same shallow black, canary eyes that horrified her yesterday froze her to the hot orange carpet in the few seconds they bored into her from bosom to bangs.
"Mona? Why ever are you calling me Mona?" her voice drawled dramatically into a southern accent, as sweet as blooming magnolias, one she'd learned from a high school Tennessee Williams play. She charmed him with her lullaby voice, but the effect was weak at best. He grabbed her by the sleeve halfway through the door.
"Don't play games with me, bitch!" His beady e sparked with malice. "Nobody else around here's got a tan in December... you think I'm stupid, don't you? Hot with anger and intimated insults, his balding head turned red as a polished apple. He grabbed her wig, tore it off, and stomped on it. "Really, Mrs. Bradley, you're only getting yourself in more hot water. The head honcho wants to see you about that phony application... and with thievery too," he tutted tauntingly. "Come on," he snarled through stained teeth and stale tobacco breath.
The credit manager dragged the kicking and spitting blonde through his office and into the adjacent chambers marked with Hugh Murphy's name plaque, then dumped her into a chair next to the secretary's desk.
In his plush inner office, Hugh Murphy sat hulkishly in his leather swivel chair, feeling a bit guilty for not alerting customers and employees to the severity of the snow storm and hoping to hell there were no lawsuits because of it... but hell, he'd been too busy 'dictating' to Blanche to think about the weather. Then, too, the matter of finding another secretary, one as 'qualified' as Blanche was once Nick was transferred, laid heavily on his mind.
Open-minded, loyal, and submissive women like Blanche were as rare as black pearls. Slowly, a lewd grin suffused his head at the tromping, stumbling sound of Mona Bradley bursting into Blanche's office being escorted, or rather dragged, by Murphy's womanizing credit manager.
"Hello, Mrs. Bradley. I hear you've caused quite a stir," A tight, secretive smile bordering on an outright smirk curled Blanche Harrington's sensuous lips as she watched Mona struggling to compose herself. The woman's frankly appraising look bothered Mona intensely and she shifted uncomfortably, her eyes searching out every nook and cranny in the room like a trapped animal. Perhaps she could have been thankful that she couldn't read the secretary's mind just then. Mona's attention shifted to the lean figure frisking past her, heading for Murphy's office... no doubt to brief him on the charges against Mona Bradley
Mona's mind frothed with indecision; she hadn't the slightest idea of how to defend her fraudulence. Several possibilities whirled confusingly through her mind, but in the end, she knew the truth must suffice. Above all, she would plead with this Mr. Murphy not to press charges... or to tell Orin. Anything but tell Orin!
As the few minutes stretched to an eternity, Murphy's voice rumbled from the intercom summoning Mona into his presence. To Mona's ears he sounded like the wrath of God on Judgment Day.
Nick Harrington lounged smirkingly at ease in a chair while Hugh Murphy stood behind his mahogany desk, pale blue eyes boldly sweeping over her contours as he courteously nodded to her to be seated. Relaxing a bit, lulled into a false security by his friendliness, didn't last very long. Hugh came to the point bluntly. "You've been dishonest in filling out a credit application, Mrs. Bradley!"
Mona struggled to explain... offered to forget the application and never shop at Joseph's again, but after a lengthy discourse, she saw that all of her imploring arguments were met with implacable negatives and she burst into tears with a final; "Then... I... I just don't know what to do! But I don't want Orin, m-my husband to find out what I've done!"
Hugh told her then: "There is one solution." He scratched his bald head, leaving claw marks. "I will be needing another secretary soon, and if you'll work for me as my personal secretary, starting on a trial basis for one month, during which, you'll learn your duties and prove your worth to me, I'll perhaps forget this ever happened. However... in the meantime, we can temporarily resolve it another way."
Through miserable, tear-dimmed eyes, Mona looked up at him and trembled. "H-How...?" Then, she saw the salacious lust in those pale, blue eyes, set wide in his craggy lined face. The answer was there in her before he even spoke. Oh, no! Oh God, no! Not him, too!
"From what Nick says, you would be willing to work it out, which is the only reason I won't be going to the authorities if you prove to be a very accommodating personal secretary," he leered. "Need I spell it out any more for you?"
Mona gasped in disbelief, aghast. "Do you mean... sex?!"
"Right! I can see you do have some sense in that pretty blonde head of yours," he smirked. "If you cooperate with us... eventually, you can rip up that application card and your husband will never know." Hugh's voice trailed off, but there was a hint of a real threat of possible consequences.
That little word us stuck with Mona, its importance to what he said bludgeoning her painfully with it's pregnant meaning.
"Us?" she questioned. "Y-You mean th-that? B-both of y-you? A-At one time?"
"At one time! You're catching on, baby!" Harrington grunted dryly with an approving nod from his superior, affirming Mona's worst fears. "We're both going to fuck you at the same time... until you can't even walk!"
"Ohhhh, My God! I-I'd rather go to jail!" she moaned.
"You mean that? Because we can accommodate you either way... of course your husband will find out..."
She hadn't the strength or courage to even notice who said that.
"No... no... NO!" cried Mona. She felt like a trapped animal that once caught in the steel trap struggled to free itself, but only succeeds in causing the cruel teeth to dig in deeper, hold the trapped paw tighter, more painful still. She would have to do whatever they both demanded of her... But both of them? The skinny, beady eyed canary and the hulkish bear?!
Deep in the morass of her self pity, Mona was wondering where her new debauchment by these leering animals would take place, when Hugh lumbered around his desk and took her by her slender arm, assisting her from her chair and said; "Come on now, Mona, let me show you into my private office.
Here? Right now? Oh, dear God! Didn't these men any compassion? She wondered, too, if in the times she'd shopped at Joseph's how many other unsuspecting, teary-eyed women who couldn't pay their bills or lied, ended up in this office 'working off' their transgressions on Mr. Murphy's lordly couch which she stared at now through the opened door of his plush private office. Numbly, she allowed herself to be led in; then, just as dumbly, she sat down on the couch, as he led her to it, shaking her head negatively only when he held a shot of whiskey to her parched lips.
"Why don't you give me vinegar?" she spat acidly.
Chapter Five
"Don't be a martyr, Mona. Last time you didn't even need a drink. Suit yourself; I was just trying to make it a bit easier for you. You'll be dynamite with a few sips of
booze to loosen you up!" Harrington coaxed, lifting his own glass to his lips, confident that ensnaring this blonde lovely would win him a raise.
Insult heaped upon insult got the better of Mona's composure. "I don't want anything to drink!" she flared. And to herself: I don't want to lose control of myself again! Dear Orin, forgive me!
"One man's poison is another man's high!" Hugh eased his bulk down beside her, sipping at his Jack Daniels up straight, and his ham-like paw went her knee to caress it suggestively.
Even as a loathing for his touch flooded through her, Mona sensed a certain animal magnetism in Murphy, an intense, maleness that exuded from his every pore and an accompanying, unexplainable tingling-definitely sexual-ran with searing fingers up and down her spine as his exploring digits inched higher along her parted thighs to the soft inner warmth of her pubic vee. Timidly, she looked up at him and saw nothing attractive at all about him. He's an ugly old man...! But there was no explanation as to why she felt a tiny glow of arousal deep within her belly.
Sitting across from her, Harrington had been drinking steadily from his glass; now he tossed down the remainder, set the glass down and moved to sit on the other side of her. "Let's get on with this before Blanche gets her suspicions up." In a moment, he tugged the sweater out of Mona's black wool pants and started yanking it up over her head.
Afraid to look the men in the eye, Mona's eyes fell on the thick, pulsing bulge inside Harrington's pants which graphically reminded her of what was to come... in a few unholy minutes.
For an instant, she resisted him as he pulled her sweater over her head and off her arms. "Please?" She clasped the sweater over her trembling breasts, trapped inside the flimsy barrier of her lace brassiere.
"Hey! Get that sweater off and show Mr. Murphy that pretty tan line," whistled Nick suggestively, roughly pulling her sweater away from her.
Then, as Nick began working on the snaps of her brassiere, she felt Hugh, on the other side of her, rising. Two turquoise pools of depthless despair fell on his bear-like body, stripping itself of tie and jacket. He, too, she couldn't help but notice, had a huge, tell-tale bulge in the front of his pants. A cold shiver nipped at her breasts and she realized she was naked from the waist up. Instinctively, she covered herself with her arms.
"Hey baby, that's no fair... not with boobs like yours!" Nick firmly pushed her arms away; his hot thin lips coming wetly down to immediately capture the pink bud of her slowly hardening right nipple. He sucked it up hungrily, nibbling with his chapped lips,
his tongue laving at the sensitive peak of flesh, while his hand was busy with its twin, his fingers massaging and rolling the now erect nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Again, she felt a traitorous sensation race charging through her... exactly what she'd prayed against. They can d-do what they want with me... but I won't let them make me like it! I won't! I WON'T!"
"You will have to stand up for a moment." It was Hugh's throaty voice behind them.
Mona stood up and Nick took her solidly into his hands moving deftly to push her wool slacks down over her smoothly flaring hips; they fell with a sigh to the floor. He pressed her tightly against his bony body, his hands on the softly rounded moons of her firm, fleshy buttocks feeling them through her thin nylon panties and pulling her up against the warm, pulsing bulge of his stalking penis. His hard male flesh was hot against her fearfully cringing abdomen and she felt nauseated at the idea of how she was being used, just as before, she knew self recrimination did no good. Her voluptuous five-foot-two body slumped against him, letting him feel her soft bumps. He tilted her head up and kissed her hard and long, his tongue probing sinuously between her soft pearly teeth. Mona didn't resist. Instead, she stood there limply and let him have his fun, as his hands ran up and down her back and caressed the soft, fleshy mounds of her nylon-covered ass cheeks and as she stood there unresisting, she tried to make her mind a blank page, pretend that none of this was real... only a silly book written for bored housewives. A metallic click behind her was followed by a couple of thumps. Glancing out the corner of a turquoise eye, she saw Hugh had made the couch into a big, soft bed. She remembered thinking: How clever!
Behind her, his voice coming from the bed, she heard Hugh Murphy growl, "Get those Goddamned panties off of her! I want to see this lying little blonde bitch bare-assed naked. If she's gonna work for me she needs qualifications."
Harrington stopped kissing Mona and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the white laced bikini Mona had 'picked up' on the sale table down in the lingerie department, exchanging them for the soiled ones sopping with Nick Harrington's sperm. With slow deliberation, Nick pulled them down over her naked buttocks, exposing the deep tan line that dipped low along her cleft. With true admiration, he knelt before her and rolled them down over the smooth, wheat tanned columns of her firmly tapered thighs. Nick helped her to step out of them, then spun her around to face Hugh Murphy for a final appraisal.
Mona grew two inches with the gasp of dismay. Lying naked on the bed, Hugh, propped up on two pillows, his huge, barrel-chested body seemingly covered with a blanket of dark brown hair, looked like a child's teddy bear. The hairiness of his virile body contrasted strikingly with his clean shaven face and shiny bald head... but the immense shaft of his manhood lancing out from a tangle of pubic hair, captured
her gaze hypnotically. This man was more a bull than a man!
"Pretty little thing, isn't she?" Harrington exulted, knowing his choice of women made a discernible difference in his pay check.
"Yeah! She's okay... more than okay!" grunted Hugh, his eyes roving over her voluptuous nakedness with pure lust shining. He followed her gaze to his fully erect cock.
"Impressed or worried?" he asked with a smile, his hand dipping down to caress it. "Or both...?"
Mona ashamed of her ardent stare, glanced away. "N-No... I just couldn't help looking..." she mumbled to the wall.
"Come on down for a better peek, my dear," encouraged Hugh, patting the empty mattress beside him.
A moment's hesitation ended as Nick nudged her forward. Reluctantly, she padded over to the bed and sat down uneasily on the edge of it. Sitting up, Hugh wrapped his powerful arms around the naked young woman and lifted her into position beside him. Mona lay on her back, trembling in despair, shame and fright, as he stretched out beside her, still embracing her, his rampantly erect cock trapped between his abdomen and her faintly trembling thigh. Its throbbing heat and involuntary lurching signaled his anticipation and as she lay there quivering in his hairy embrace, she had the suffocating sensation of being hugged by some primordial cave man. She wondered if Hugh Murphy wasn't some throwback to an earlier age and she shivered within the hairy clasp of his arms, shuddering with fear, trepidation and mortification.
"You know," Hugh said in a tender, whispering voice, almost seductive. "I'm not what you're thinking... I'm not cruel or sadistic. I just like to fuck."
Something within Mona tingled. "But you're forcing me!"
"Only for openers, my dear. You'll be coming for more. They all do in the end."
He's insane! "I doubt it," countered Mona coweringly.
True. The hands that roamed over her body were not cruel hands-just curious ones-and an undeniable tingle of arousal trickled through her. What about Hugh Murphy, anyway? He wasn't a sexy man, but he exuded the sexual virility of a mature bull... the kind of overpowering maleness that dominated a female. In the back of her conscious mind, she knew that her vow to refuse enjoyment was crumbling feebly His sex would dominate her with or without her consent.
Harrington lay down on her other side and she felt the warmth of his naked body pressing against her clammy one. Below, the hard pole of his penis jabbed into her other thigh.
In the flicker of an eyelash, Hugh's large, sensuous lips came gently down over hers and his tongue lashed deep into her throat, while one of his outsized hands almost covered the soft globe of one ripe melon breast. As he caressed her smooth satiny flesh, Mona couldn't resist a lustful gurgle from rippling in her throat.
To the right of her, Nick Harrington used his mouth on her other softly throbbing breast, warmly sucking on the marbly nipple; then one of his boney hands moved caressingly down across the flat, sand-colored plane of her belly and in a probe of the fingers, his searching hand found the golden, hair covered nest between her trembling young thighs.
Not wanting to do it, but helpless to control her over-heated muscles, Mona involuntarily opened her tightly clenched thighs at the first ounce of pressure of his hand. Almost instantly, she felt his outstretched middle finger delve into the fleshy slit of her seeping pussy to find the button of her clitoris. She lurched when his finger touched the magic switch, her hips jerking back and down into the softness of the mattress as his tantalizing fingertip brought a moan from deep in her bosomy chest. He gave the nub a few polishing strokes, turning it blood red as a polished cherry while her nakedly gyrating hips did a lusty grind of delight. God! Two men touching her like this...!
A moment of panic tore through her. What was wrong with her? Alcohol was certainly not the excuse for this display of nymphomania, yet here she was on this bed, with two strange, virile men, against her will responding to them like a child to Santa Claus. Orin and her sworn fidelity flickered from her consciousness as she felt Harrington's body slithering downward, his mouth leaving her tingling breast to trail moist kisses down along the blazing path of his caressing hand.
Lord! It took no brains to figure out the next move. B-But I can't help it! When Nick had kissed and licked her shamefully aroused pussy that last time, she'd been certain she would die from the sheer pleasure of it.
Now, Harrington's mouth was poised above the golden curls of her pubic mound and the hot breath steaming from his snorting nostrils made her clitoris bud. His hot skinny hands were wedging her legs apart with gentle firmness and Mona whimpered helplessly up into Hugh's mouth puppy-like. In reward, he raised his head, breaking the passionate kiss, and dropped his beefy lips to her breasts where he took the erect throbbing nipple into his hot, saliva-dripping mouth. Mona winced as he nibbled at it with his teeth, sparking tiny pains of sensual joy.
Her body manipulated like a rubber doll, Harrington hauled her legs wide apart and pulled up her knees, his hands sliding down along the warm, softness of her goosebumped, smoothly tapered inner thighs until they stopped at the furry mound of her cuntal slit. With deliberate slowness, he used his thumbs to peel apart the dewy petals of her pink cuntal opening. Mona couldn't breathe from the wonderful electric charges hot wiring through her body.
Hugh, sucking on one nipple like a hungry kitten, made the half-dollar size nipple slide in and out between his lips. Without thinking, Mona reached up to her swollen
breast, cupped it and offered up its nectar to the sex god; and with no further thought, her other hand reached up to fondly trace the craggy features of his bloated face. Hugh Murphy was no movie star, but his sexual allure was unmistakably real... a fact that Mona Bradley had recently discovered.
Impatiently she waited as Nick's lips followed the fleshy path of his hands, alternately kissing and nipping the smooth tanned flesh of her inner thighs, his
mouth like fire on her skin, as he taunted her with closer nibblings near the nakedly wide opening of her hotly pulsating cunt held wide open by his hands. Oh, God! What's taking him so long?
A thousand volts of electricity stabbed through her! His lips were there, warm and moist, making erotically electrical contact with the searingly needful hole of her pussy, his tongue hotly lashing into the naked opening of her cunt, and she groaned aloud with both ecstasy and relief. Her hips did a dance of lust her and she felt all moist and warm down there between her legs as Nick's tongue ran circles just inside the coral mouth of her cunt. Oooohhh! Their mouths... oh God, their mouths! Her blonde curls thrashed from side to side as her body squirmed like a battery-run doll.
And as Nick's long, snaky tongue wiggled upward to the on switch of her sensuality, her erect clitoris, he licked and sucked at the vibrantly pulsing bud, concentrating on the nerve-filled sensitive head of it, knowing that would have her well-oiled for the reaming he and his boss would give her. Hell! He gloated. This bitch is short-fused. What a sex pot!
Nostrils flaring from the heady perfume of her womanliness, Nick lost himself in the hungry licking and sucking of her succulent young cunt, his own lust painfully aching in his sperm-filled balls. Damned if I know the protocol for sharing with the boss, but I'm about ready to pop if I don't get my cock in her cunt soon! In bed, sharing a woman, or whatever, Hugh was still boss.
Mona had reached her wit's end. Harrington's hot, slithering tongue licking at her pussy below, while Hugh's vacuum-mouth sucked on her breasts above, had brought her to the bursting point. Suddenly, she heaved her hips off the bed, mashing her hot, furry pussy hard against Nick's working wet mouth until his nose flattened against her clitoris. "Oh, oooohh, Gawd! Ooooh! Yessss!" she hissed. "Do it to me!"
Harrington's lips dribbled with her cuntal juices as he withdrew his sucking mouth from her cunt. "Let's not go through this bullshit it again, Mrs. Bradley. If you want to get fucked, you know the password!"
Gawd! She hated those words... but if that's what it took, damn propriety! "Fuck me!" she cried without pride. "Fuck me! I want b-both of you to fuck me!" Actually, she wasn't sure just how one manipulated such double antics, but Mona was hardly in a bargaining power position.
"Okay, Baby! You'll get it now!" It was Hugh Murphy speaking. "Let's change places, Harrington. I'll fuck her first!"
Disappointingly, she felt the loss of their hot wet mouths as the two men shifted positions. Their naked bodies passed, one skinny, the other blubbery, one on either side of her slim figure, Harrington sliding upward to stretch out beside her and immediately lean over to kiss her with his long tongue. It was all the more erotic, for she could taste the slightly pungent taste of her genital lubricants on his lips and tongue. Massagingly, his fingers dug deeply into the soft globes of her passion-ripened breasts, while below, Hugh used at least two of his pudgy fingers to thrust deep into the moist hole of her frantically ready cuntal passage. Gawd! It felt good... but she needed something more than fingers down there... a warm, hard cock! Their playing games with me. Why don't they fuck me now?
"Don't fret, doll. Hugh's just stretching you a little... don't want you to fall apart when my prick fucks into this tight cunt."
A sudden stabbing pain down in her fear-tightened cuntal opening made her shiver as the tender tissues were pressed apart. "Oohh, that hurts!" she cried, twisting her mouth away from Nick.
It was Hugh rummaging around in her tender pussy, prodding with three fingers. "You'll be glad I took the time for this. Now get up on your knees with your tanned little ass in the air. I'm gonna give it to you doggie-style."
As Harrington moved aside, she hastened to obey, turning over and scrambling to her knees. Leaning down on her dimpled elbows, she looked back past her melonous dangling breasts to see Hugh heaving his bulk up onto his pudgy knees, his hands reaching out to grasp her naked hips. Another glimpse of his long, purple knobbed erection spearing from his hairy thatch at the junction of this thighs... his cockhead bloated with blood, the whole corona shiny and smooth as rich red velvet... made her throat constrict. Then he flexed his knees to nudge his log-like penis up against the little pink groove of her pussy. Mona felt it pulsating warmly against the flowered open lips of her stretched, seeping cunt and second thoughts flittered through her mind. God! He'll stretch me so wide, Orin will know for sure I've been fucked and messing around.
"Reach back up and put that baby in!" grated Hugh, his bowling-ball shaped head red with exertion.
His voice thundered with authority, and with shaking fingers, Mona reached back between her frantically trembling thighs and grasped the mushroom-shaped head, her fingers going only part way around its fleshy girth. Then, knowing its enormity, she felt its vibrant heart-throb, its radiating heat. Mona hesitated.
"Put that damn cock in your cunt, bitch!"
Mona never saw it coming, but feel it, she did. His hand came down in a stinging slap across her fear-clenched and tanned buttocks as simultaneously, he drove his hips forward, the thick blood heavy head of his erect cock ramming into her hot quivering pussy with a greasy squeak. The elastic flesh of her pink pussy opening stretched accommodatingly, distending wider than the three finger dilation of seconds before. A
screech of pain and fright made him stop short, letting the purple-knobbed head of his cock peek into the tender cuntal flesh for the time being. He squeezed and massaged her goosebumped hips and buttocks and in a voice that would soothe a crying baby, he said:
"Relax, honey, it's gonna happen now, so relax and enjoy it. That's what it's made for."
Then in a schizophrenic flicker of sadism, he flexed his lust-swollen cock head inside of her, eliciting another open-mouthed whine from her tortured lips. Again and again he did this, until Mona relaxed into the pain and opened onto the sunshine pleasure of his generous fucking.
Slowly, still with inexorable pressure, Hugh fucked his blood-fed penis deeper into her, feeling her contracting muscle ring at her cunt mouth squeeze down hard around his penis to send tantalizing sparks of erotic sensation racing through his manhood.
Inch by inch, he bored into her until her voluptuous loins began to eagerly invite him in, undulating back against him, her wetly seething cunt trying to gobble up his hardness. Then, with a feral, rutting lust, he used the bear-like power of his back and legs to the final few millimeters into her tender cervix where it lodged solidly against the far back spongy wall of her vaginal sheath. Mona moaned, but this time with the tones of sheer lust. Grinning his satisfaction, Hugh flexed his throbbing penis as it lay buried deep up inside its tender pink tomb. Gratified to feel her contracting cunt muscles clasping around the full length of him, the walls of her tight cunt rippled with erotic pleasure in the moist intimate caress. His hands got busy roaming over her lushly kneeling body, reaching under to pinch her ripe, full breasts, then down across her tanned belly to her wetly matted pubic mound where he slipped an outstretched finger into the top of her vaginal groove to caress the excitedly pulsing bud of her clitoris.
Mona bucked like a bronco charging out the gate, desperate for her 'rapist' to begin his powerful fucking. "Oh Gawd!" she moaned. "It doesn't hurt now... so fuck me! Oh, God, Hugh, fuck me! FUCK ME! Her eyes saw nothing and her mind didn't register her own words.
Hugh used slow, long smooth strokes to accommodate the lady-humping like a stud-horse behind her-pistoning his penis in and out of her steaming, swollen pussy, pulling his cock out until only the angry cock head peeked into the clinging hot mouth of her cunt and then slamming it home all the way until his hairy balls slapped hard against her buttocks, the force of her cunt-plumbing thrust flattening her ass-cheeks. Mewling, moaning, purring, Mona gurgled in her throat, her face contorted in delicious pain.
Nick Harrington watched, though none too patiently, as his kneeling boss fucked Mona from behind, contenting himself with exploring her every luscious inch, but paying rapt attention to her firm breasts, cupping the soft, warm fruits as they hung ripely from her chest. As Hugh established a fucking beat, one of Nick's hands worked its sneaking path down to her wildly rippling abdomen where he rubbed at her polished red clitoris. Through his finger tips he could feel the wet vibrations of Hugh's tree trunk penis fucking in and out of her vaginal mouth.
Mona felt all of it. Her mouth opened and closed in incoherent babblings, her mind certain that Hugh's deep thrusts into her pussy, combined with Nick's fingers flicking over her clitoris would blow a fuse in her nervous system. Only dimly was she
aware of Nick's body moving upward, sliding into place before her with his legs spread wide. Now he leaned back on his elbows, and as her glassy eyes finally focused on this new antic, she was gazing directly at his cyclop-like cock-eye from which dribbled a single pearl of pre-cum. It wiggled and waggled there before her face, sometimes grazing her lips by mere millimeters like a snake searching for its hole in the ground. Mona stared curiously at it, not understanding yet why he would be shoving his erect penis up toward her face. Unless...?
"Wh-what...?" she gasped pantingly.
"Suck my cock, bitch."
"...B-but...? Suck it?"
"This is known as a double fucking. Don't play ignorant with us." His voice was cold as a buried casket and his hand hard as its steel. His hand came down across her face in a stinging blow, then softened its touch as he grasped his cock and worked the foreskin back to show off the purple veins pulsing with blood.
The shiny, silken tip of his cock brushed against her lipsticked lips and she twisted her head aside in a futile attempt to escape the horror of his demands. Quickly he trapped her head in his hands and straightened it with a grunting jerk, then with a cruel pressure, he brought her head down again, aiming it directly for his dripping cock's eye. "Open your mouth, Mrs. Bradley!"
Mrs. Bradley... oh, Gawd, that's right... I am a married woman! The pain of her sin blackened out all cognizance of guilt, and reluctantly she ovaled her lips, experimentally, as he flexed his hips forward and upward, while simultaneously, his hands forced her head down. It slithered into her mouth reptile-like, just the hot jerking head of it entering between her softly parted lips and her stomach rebelled in gagging nausea.
"Take it easy and use your tongue," he hissed, his angular, Uriah Heep face red with desire.
There was no way out. Concentrating, she controlled her gagging reflex and with a tentative swirl of her velvety tongue, tried to please her torturer. The shame of her actions flooded through her. It's disgusting... the things they're making me do... the things they're putting me through. As if being fucked like a dog isn't bad enough, they're forcing me to suck his cock, too!
It happened in a double flash of surprise. Just as Mona's mightily-stretched pussy adjusted itself to Hugh's plunging cock, her tortured lips accustomed themselves to Nick's slithering penis in her mouth. It had a sweet... no, bittersweet flavor, she decided, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked hard, using her tongue like a breast-sucking baby. Nick gasped with pleasure.
"That's it, Baby! You've got a fantastic mouth... just as soft as your cunt."
Instinctively, or perhaps accidentally, Mona began to move her head up and down the lust-thickened pole with the buffeting rhythm of Hugh's long hard cock fucking in and out of her mouse trap cunt. Magically, her throat and mouth seemed anesthetized to Harrington's thick penis gorging into her mouth and she wondered if it was shame or excitement she felt!
Behind her, one of Hugh's hands slipped down between her quivering, gyrating buttocks and his pudgy loins. When she sensed his thick finger searching in the dampened crevice between her erotically sensitive ass-cheeks, she winched recoilingly. Oh, God... that too...? But, she couldn't object, not with her mouth stuffed full with Nick's plunging cock.
Tentatively, he pressed the tip of his finger against her puckered anus and slid it slowly into the cringing button of her rear channel. Searing pain sizzled there, but she couldn't scream; her mouth and throat were stuffed with Harrington's boring penis, while behind, fucking into her well lubricated vagina, Hugh's blood hardened cock plunged in and out, plumbing her womb to its most secret depths. He pushed harder still, his middle finger in all the way to the palm of his fat hand which flattened up against her tan and white striped buttock cheeks. Again she jerked forward, squirming away from the unnatural probing so far up in her little rectum. With no choice but to relax, she let her muscles lose their grip and with it went the pain. Grunting, grinding, gyrating and twisting, her naked buttocks shoved back against the double fucking of her loins. Mona wanted it all, everything they could give her... even though all three openings were filled with probing digits and pricks.
Deeper and harder the kneeling adulteress bore the ravishment of Nick's crazily bloated cock as he rammed it down to her tonsils. She countered with her bobbing head, feeling a wanton madness swim over her, building toward a tumultuous orgasm. Without reservation or doubt, she surrendered herself body and soul.
As Harrington panted-perspiration dripping from his forehead to dribble off the tip of his aquiline nose-his blood engorged cock lurching inside her sucking mouth, Mona didn't give a thought about what would happen when he climaxed. She didn't have a chance to think about it before it happened. Suddenly he stiffened to a beanpole ramrod and with one animalish grunt, he was cumming... in her mouth, his cock wildly jerking and pumping like a fire hose. It squirted into Mona's mouth and dribbled down her chin in pearly strands. She swallowed to keep from gagging... and something terribly erotic made her hungry for the bittersweet taste. Instinctively, she realized that's the way it should be. If it were otherwise, what fun would it be for Nick...? And somehow, even though she loathed the man, satisfying him was mammothly important. When he finished hosing his sperm obscenely into her mouth, she kept right on sucking, licking up every last thread of the sticky cum that seeped from his deflating penis. Finally, Harrington lifted her head to free his satiated penis from her mouth-trap.
"You can stop sucking now," he said smugly, and that brought the odds back to one on one, which was okay with Hugh Murphy. Nick lay back and Mona watched with curious fascination as the blood fed penis collapsed like a punctured tire until it lay flaccid against his skinny thigh. Strangely, she still had the sensation that it was in her mouth and she wondered fleetingly if Hugh would want her to do the same to him... later.
Bucking and pumping behind her, goring deep into her spongy pink depths, Hugh felt his tingling cock jerk in a gust of expansion and down there, behind the base of his penis, he felt the full load of his churning hot sperm boiling like a kettle ready to blow off its lid. Suddenly, he jerked his plunging finger out of her puckered rectum, and, grasping her with both hands around her waspish waist, he began to thrust and fuck insanely into her by hauling her naked body forward on his withdrawal. Like a rag doll in his strong hands, he fucked into her like an alley dog satisfying a bitch-in-heat under the mystique of a full moon.
Mona sizzled with ecstasy. Like a time bomb ready to explode she counted the seconds, measured in grunting gyrations, until she would climax. God... let me cum!
Hugh slammed his virility into her seeping cunt so hard that his lunges sent her head banging into Nick's boney knee. It was all she could do to hang onto her senses, allowing him to violently pull her lust-helpless body this way and that as he fucked into her with a manly dominance Orin sorely lacked.
Without warning, she came. For an infinitesimal second, Mona Bradley stood on the pinnacle of an unconquerable mountain, breathing dizzily in the rarefied atmosphere and viewing the world in one glance as she convulsed spasmodically. The scream breaking from her throat was loud and long. "Oh, oh, ohhhh! Gaaaawd! I'm cumming!"
Mona would have collapsed limply right then had not Hugh held her firmly in place as he punched his gorging penis into the heated mouse trap of her convulsively clasping cunt.
Finally, with one last powerful, buttocks-flattening thrust, Hugh came. His massive cock expanded as every tablespoon of blood gushed down to his cock to explode in machine gun fire the white hot sperm which shot up to splash against Mona's tender cervix. He held her naked young buttocks close up against his hairy loins, his big, hammy hands grasping her painfully by the hips as his cock flooded her womb in a creamy froth.
"Lord, you have a gorgeous cunt!"
Unceremoniously then, he relaxed after a few moments, letting Mona fall from his grip until she slumped down onto the soft mattress, bouncing. His heavy bulk crashed down on top of her, his still twitching and pumping cock buried deep in her tired vagina. Not a word was spoken...
After long moments, Mona stirred, feeling smothered by the flabby weight of Hugh Murphy's sweating body upon her small, frail one. Mona struggled for her next breath. "Let me up... please?!"
Hugh grunted and rolled to her side. "That was something else, hon. You're going to love working as my private secretary when Nick here gets transferred to Fairbanks and takes his wife with him."
"No way, mister!" spat Mona, yanking on her clothes.
Hugh snorted and added acidly, "You're not off the hook yet... and with your attitude you're likely to end up over my knee and wearing some stripes!"
Mona's guilt and shame piled high and deep as the snow burying Orin's little blue Toyota outside in the parking lot of Joseph's Department Store.
Lord, when would the storm end? When could she go home with Orin, sit by the fireplace and play with the cat? When would life be normal again?
* * * * *
Down on the third floor, with one eye on the weather report, the other on his sorely losing rummy hand, Orin was wondering exactly that... and more. He flicked his wrist to read his watch, his eyes narrowing in concern. An hour and fifteen minutes was more than ample time to use the ladies room. Where the hell was Mona running off to? And why that scared-rabbit look everytime they happened into a crowded department or the tea room. If he didn't know her inside out as he did, he would be tempted to believe danger was on her heels.
Chapter Six
The last day of the year was ripe with womanly misery.
While Mona Bradley suffered the twin ravishment of two middle-aged sex hounds pawing over her body like so much trapped meat, Blanche Harrington mopped her sniffling nose in the off-limits territory of Hugh Murphy's business office. Slumped dejectedly in his rich-smelling leather chair, her fingers fumbled with the controls of his video machine wired to his private office and the lingerie fitting rooms for private when the mood hit.
"Damn," she hissed as the picture flickered twice, turning to snow, and then blackened in finality. "The tubes out! I was right... that bastard is fucking other women in there! Right under my nose. Her eyes narrowed to watery slits. Jealousy and deep hurt fired her body with red-hot hatred. Once rejected was rule number one in the game called life, but to be twice deceived was heartbreaking. Tears tickled down her rouged cheeks and nervously, she brushed back a lock of curly brown hair that had straggled across her forehead.
I knew Hugh used that office to scandalize women... I've been in there myself more than a few times. But had Nick no more pride than to follow his boss puppy-dog-like in after him, eating the crumbs from his master's table?
Up until the moment the tube knocked out, Blanche watched as her husband stripped down the lusciously tanned woman accused of fraud and sucked on her breast. To suspect is one thing, but to see is quite another and an unexpected flicker of hatred bolted through her body. Though Blanche had sworn off Nick as a no-good woman monger who'd fuck a snake if he could find a place to put it in, he was still her husband. Could it be that her affair with Hugh Murphy was merely a decoy for her real emotions? Had it been too painful in the past to confront Nick's philandering... and that presented an excuse for her to even the score?
Blanche gave the machine an angry slap, hard enough to rattle the tubes... to no avail. All that remained of the taped sex orgy next door was the tiny voice of Mona Bradley screeching: "Ohhh, that hurts!"
One ear to the crackling speaker, Blanche visualized her lover's enormously thick penis slamming deep into that unseen woman's nakedly exposed vagina and she knew how that felt. Sometimes it still hurts me when he shoves his cock in!
Hugh was speaking: "Believe me... you'll be glad I took the time for this! Now get up on your knees with your tanned little ass in the air. I'm gonna fuck you doggie-style!"
Rustling, indistinct sounds came over the speaker, then, two or three moments later, the woman cried out: "NO! You're too big!"
Oh, he didn't have it in her yet!
Silence. Blanche's face flushed. God! He's such a dominating bastard. There was a tiny spark of sympathy for the poor woman in there... and unwanted, she felt her own loins begin to glow with an unexpected arousal and her inner cuntal lips moistened slickly. She resented her response. Damn! I'm getting hot... listening to my lover fuck a strange woman while my husband sits by!
"Reach back up and put that baby in!" Hugh commanded.
Crack!
He hit her, the sonofabitch. Mona Bradley screamed, and Blanche had no difficulty imagining how he had thrust his hotly throbbing cock deep up into Mona's cringing cunt.
"Come on, put that damn cock in your cunt, bitch... Relax, honey, it's gonna happen now, so relax and enjoy it. That's what it's made for." Hugh's voice was more gentle now. I don't think I've really ever gotten used to it! Blanche could almost feel it herself.
From the speaker came Mona's passionate moan: "Oh Gawd! It doesn't hurt now... so fuck me! Oh, God, Hugh, fuck me!" Blanche thought about how often she had begged her employer just as abjectly.
Mona Bradley: "Wh-what?"
"Suck my cock, bitch." Blanche sat up erect at the unmistakable sound of her husband's voice. So the bastard doesn't want sloppy seconds, huh...? He's going to shove it in her mouth. Nick always was selfish.
"B-but... suck it?" Mona was questioning.
"This is known as a double-fucking. Don't play ignorant with us." Nick's trying to sound like a big shot now... just to impress Hugh.
Another crack. He hit her, the bloody bastard!
"Open your mouth, Mrs. Bradley." Following a moments silence: "Take it easy and use your tongue."
She's got him in her mouth now!
Blanche sat with one ear glued to the speaker, right up to the moment when Hugh Murphy revealed his secret plan. "That was something else, hon. You're going to enjoy working as my private secretary when Nick here gets transferred to Fairbanks and takes his wife with him."
Blanche turned hot, then cold with anger. The prick's gonna fire me! she stormed, and hire that little blonde hussy. And Nick never said a word about it! Damn both of them!
Flicking off the machine, Blanche stomped out of the office grabbing her coat and purse before she realized she couldn't get home. Damn this stupid snowstorm... stuck in this dumb department store with two men who treat me like dirt... work like a slave for them, and what do I get? Blanche Harrington harbored no doubts as how to even the final score. Since that day Nick began working here, her life had turned into a pinball game, knocking around balls and winning points. Damned ridiculous...
The pressure of Blanche's angry stomping feet caused one of her skinny spike heels to wedge in the escalator step's groove on her way down to the third a men's floor, now a men's smoker blue with cigarette and cigar smoke. Humiliated and frustrated, she slipped her tiny foot of the trapped shoe and bent down to wiggle it free, the lines of her tight wool kick-pleated skirt hugging her buttocks like wet jersey. Fourteen sets of eyes turned from the television screen in a chorus of howled wolf whistles and laughter, making Blanche hiss with disgust. She arched her back, hands on her flaring hips and blasted them for their inconsideration. "What's the matter with you men, anyway? Isn't one of you gentleman enough to help a lady in need?"
Dan looked boorishly up from his card hand, cigarette dangling from his lips. "That woman's always bitchin' about something," he muttered across the card table and slapped an eight of spades on Orin's king of hearts, trumping it. "She's Murphy's private secretary. Gorgeous piece of ass, but don't try to touch it... she's all mouth, just a bunch of steam."
Blanche's professional credentials didn't interest Orin, her physical ones did: in particular, the svelte outline of Blanche Harrington's D cup breasts and waspish waist, pulled Scarlet O'Hara tight by a slim gold belt. Orin had never messed around on his wife, though more than one desperate female had offered her services in exchange for pounding out a dented bumper still hot from collision. This woman was twice as pretty as any of them, and needed help just as badly. Conceding the game to Dan, Orin hustled toward the escalator, now powerless for safety's sake, his pulse quickening as his heart pumped gushing blasts of hot blood to his rising penis. Orin felt hot and cold at the same time as his blue eyes closed in on the outline of two beige nubs poking out from under the sheer silk blouse Blanche wore. Something about her alabaster, flawless skin with impossibly firm bosoms reminded Orin of the manikins down on the first floor freezing in their see-through negligees, and he shivered.
"My name's Orin... pleased to help you, ma'am." He might have been speaking to a customer at the filling station, so polite was he. With little effort, he wiggled the spike heel free, then held her hand-too soft to have ever touched dish suds-while she balanced her way back into the Italian spike heel shoe. His kind gentility impressed Blanche, but she was too ridden with male contempt to soften.
"Nice to know there's one decent man in this damned world," she snorted and stomped off down the first floor lingerie department where she correctly predicted Sondra Murphy to be pawing through racks of negligees and peignoirs. Everybody knew Murphy's wife spent a good deal of time in bed... and not alone. Her penchant bordering on fixation for see-trough nightgowns and underwear was unheralded in Joseph's Department Store and the list of these items that passed Blanche's desk every week was
cause for scandal.
Sondra wasn't alone in her love for the sheer things in life, for right beside her stood a pot bellied lady whom Blanche readily recognized as the food monger who'd scarfed up all two dozen crab legs that first night of the whiteout when the Green Leaf Tea Room
foolishly opened its door. Blanche remembered that smorgasbord well... its partakers crassly gobbling down food and guzzling wine like starving Vikings fresh in from the sea... for Hugh Murphy was none too pleased when his secretary came solicitously back up to his office with a cold chicken leg and a slice of salami for his dinner.
Sondra was one hundred percent female and proud of it. A curvaceous redhead with hair flaming half way down her supple spine and shamrock green eyes, she flipping through a rack of recently arrived French camisoles and tap pants, both sewn from 'nude pink' silk and trimmed in antique eggshell lace. Holding one up to her bosomy chest and sacheting in salacious twirls before the triptych mirror, Sondra's smile faded when she caught sight of Blanche's reflection in the mirror.
Oh, Lord! Had Blanche seen her hidden away down in the basement lawn furniture department huddled up on a lawn swing sharing a bottle of Italian Chianti from the Vino Gardens and a box of assorted cheeses and smoked seafood from the gourmet shop with her male friend? She rationalized away her fears. We've got to stick together in emergencies, don't we? Dear Jesus, Hugh would kill me if he found out I'd been messing around with one of his salesmen. But one thing leads to another in emergencies and nature always has its way... as the snow storm had proven.
"H-Hello, Blanche," Sondra said to the mirror. "Isn't this camisole just adorable? I've got to have it!" She swung around to face the worry-wrinkled distress etched on her husband's secretary's gorgeous face and immediately, with selfish relief, Sondra knew Blanche's concern was a private one.
With vehement reprisal, Blanche ignored none of the gory details, neither about herself and Hugh, nor the parade of 'other women', and Blanche soon learned Sondra was aware of her husband's philandering. For a reticent moment their relationship was an
uneasy one-wronged wife and the other woman, but as they talked further, heading down to the gourmet shop to pick up a bottle of wine and glasses, they moved into a friendly camaraderie and shared intimate bits of information.
Two glasses of wine apiece later, all guards down, they realized that not one of the four deserved the monogamous nuptials award and they decided it was time for a showdown-time to knock down the wall of double standards. Neither waged invectives toward the blonde haired, coconut-tanned lovely who'd screamed her lust over the video machine... though a flicker of jealousy over her lush body did spark Sondra's eyes a shade greener.
Finally, the two women, drawn together in mutual misery, their bellies warmed by a third glass of wine and their talk of sex leading them on to it, both shared in a second floor fitting room, found themselves talking ever more intimately as they planned what they would do as soon as they found the right place.
"We'll have to put on a good lesbian act..." Blanche said, finding it difficult to control her breathing. "You know what we'll have to do!"
Sondra was remembering how it had been dancing in the Las Vegas club where Hugh Murphy discovered her-breasts first. "Yes, I know all about that!" One of her polished fingers stole out to Blanche's heaving breast to knead and caress.
Cringing away, Blanche gasped. "Oh, God! Not now, Sondra! Not here!" Then she moaned as the gently caressing hand moved to the other breast.
In the next instant, the two moaning women were together in the sealed off confines of the fitting room, their wetly open mouths seeking and finding lips to kiss, their tongues entwining probingly and their hands searching feverishly the lushly ripened mounds and curves of each other to caress and fondle. Soon they were on the plushly carpeted floor, Blanche a little apprehensive, yet, but willing to learn, as the flames of passion scorched out of proportion. Naked on the floor now, their hotly hungering mouths and faces buried in the warmly perfumed flesh up between each other's outspread thighs, they tasted the joys of woman-love, tender and sweet.
"That was a practice run," suggested Sondra, lighting a cigarette afterward and lounging back, slim and willowy in her strawberry tressed loveliness.
"Yes," agreed Blanche. "But I don't know how I missed out on this... all of these years!" Her sigh was languid, satisfied, and she gazed lovingly at the other naked woman with smoky, full-lidded eyes.
Now was time for the real thing, and that takes more than curiosity.
* * * * *
Mona's grief was boundless... and to add insult to injury, her tan was fading. "Damn!" she sputtered, hysterically. "Double damn!" How could so many things go amiss in so few hours; she'd lived twenty some years with no trauma, and in as long as it took the skies to bury the earth, her miseries were burying her.
The creeps... taking advantage of me like that! I won't feel guilty at all for stealing a sunlamp. She stomped off to the basement housewares, taking the steps instead of the escalator, and picked out the most expensive sunlamp there-one with an automatic timer-and stripping herself naked in the housewares storeroom, laid under the burning rays for five minutes.
One side baked, she flipped over, appreciating the ray's hot fingers soothing her weary flesh like the touch of a man's massaging hands caressing her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. Behind her closed eyes flickered remaining scenes of today's debauchery. Mona whimpered in hurt and self disgust.
Dear lovable Orin... forgive me, but I can't face you yet. Mona Bradley lay there amongst the cartons of electric fry pans, toasters and blenders, feeling like a caged animal, like one of those little glass ones so admired by the character she portrayed in her high school play, The Glass Menagerie.
Chapter Seven
Orin Bradley found no value in negativity, but his patience was running thin as the food supplies in the plundered Green Leaf Tea Room. He'd stalked every square foot of the store searching for Mona, who'd seemed to have disappeared with the wind. She
come to me when she needs me, he rationalized tiredly.
Three o'clock in the afternoon didn't look much different from twelve midnight, except for the diffused rays of sun struggling to pierce through the pregnant grey skies. Orin Bradley thought just that in simpler terms as he stood near the glass-fronted store entrance, rubbing his chin contemplatively, watching the snow blanket the parking lot in its third seiging day. He chewed on his lip, perplexed. Suddenly, the innocuous background music of Montavani's orchestra trilled off, and a honeyed voice purred over the loudspeaker:
"Would Mr. Bradley kindly come to the business office please? We repeat, Mr. Bradley, report to the business office on the fourth floor. Urgent..."
Montavani's orchestra picked up its melancholy refrain and Orin Bradley's heart picked up a beat. "Mona... my Bunny!" Dear Lord, had something happened to her?
Orin wasn't alone in his confusion. Down in the housewares storeroom tanning her rounded buttocks, Mona Bradley lifted her head at the sound of the crackling intercom, and sucked in her breath, a cold shiver suffusing her body. Mona seldom swore, but her mind rattled off a barrage of vituperations that would rust the gates of hell.
The dirty bastards tricked me! They promised they wouldn't tell Orin if I did those dirty nasty things and now they're going to tell him anyway! True misery welled in her D cup chest, and for a moment she felt faint. This damned snowstorm... if only I could get out of this dumb store, I'd drive up to Portland Maine and stay with my sister until Orin serves me with the divorce papers. Oh, God, why did I ever insist on that sunlamp? Her dimpled chin quivered and she kicked at a carton marked 'fragile,' sending a punchbowl set crashing to the floor. Damn!
* * * * *
While Nick and Hugh, lust satiated, took a noonday nap in the private office, Blanche Harrington manned the outer office. She was filing her long, tapered fingernails when a man stepped through the door.
"Mr. Bradley?" Blanche's wide blue eyes turned like lusty mood stones as the man who'd saved her expensive Italian spike heels ambled through the door. So this handsome gentleman is Mona Bradley's husband? Hmmmm... What a sweet coincidence.
Unaccustomed to such blatant attention, Orin showed his awkwardness, which Blanche interpreted as a compliment, for men felt clumsy in the company of gorgeous women, didn't they?
"I-I heard your announcement."
"Yes." Blanche ran her scarlet red fingertips through her lustrous brown curls and arched her back, thrusting out the firm white mountains poking brown circles through her silk blouse unbuttoned one lower now to show off the shadowed valley of her creamy cleavage. Her nylon stockings swooshed excitingly as she swung one slim leg over the other, posed in profile to reveal a naked expanse of thigh garnered by a black lace garter belt holding up a sheer dress stocking. "I just wanted to thank you, Mr. Bradley, for being such a sweet, lovable man and saving my little bitty shoe." He's making this easy for me... "They're adorable shoes, don't you think?" Pooching out her cherry-glossed lips, she thrust out her leg, skirt hiking up to her garters, and wiggled one slender foot fashionably draped in a high ankle strap. "Nice, aren't they?"
Orin Bradley gulped and smiled lopsidedly, his heart knocking at lust's door. "Ah... kinda wicked, but... but they are nice. Real nice." God, I can see the lace on her panties, her skirt's so far up her leg!
"Orin? Would you be a honey and do me a little favor?" she gushed. "I'm just so sick and tired of being stuck in this stuffy store and you know about the lack of privacy. It's like the California gold rush trying to find a bed over in the furniture section. Well..." she fluttered her spidery eyelashes over her freshly rouged cheeks. "Would you be a darling and carry a mattress down to the second floor and put it in the dress department storeroom?"
Orin shrugged; he was hoping the favor would have been more rewarding. "Sure. When do you want it?"
"Oh..." Blanche glanced at her diamond watch. "In about fifteen minutes. I'll be in the room marked 'employees only!' Can't miss it."
Orin hauled the mattress down from the fourth floor to the second, feeling a bit foolish and ignoring quizzical stares from the men in the third floor smoker, where empty wine and liquor bottles littered the floor. Nine television sets were blasting at once, all on different stations while men in two-day old five o'clock shadows slumped in easy chairs, arms draping over the sides, snoring.
Orin knocked over a rack of women's clothes marked "Hold," wedging the mattress through the door; he was just righting it, when a sweet voice bubbled from the adjacent pressing room.
"Thank you, darling. Come in and let me show you my appreciation!"
...Then he saw her! Why Blanche Harrington was wearing at three o'clock in the afternoon a frilly dressing robe that he could almost look right through, the way it gaped open at the top, so that he could see her full white breasts welling out so delightfully underneath, was a mystery to him. Blanche eyed his hesitation and added, "You're a wonderful man."
Momentarily, Orin wondered whether this was a trap. Hell, maybe she misses her husband and needs a body to warm up to. His interest peaked electrically. I've got nothing to lose! He stepped through the door.
He saw the second one then! A blazing red head smiled up at him from the floor littered with over-stuffed pillows. Completely naked, her body arranged provocatively, he couldn't miss the delicacy of her pink nipples standing erect, the nipped in waist, curling hips and tapered thighs of a thoroughly sexual woman... like the stripper he'd seen down at the Red Garter, during happy hour. Orin stopped short, staring with unabashed manly interest. The door to the dressing room swung shut behind him and he heard the bolt click home. What the hell? Two of them...! A couple of lesbians, probably... but what do they want with me?
He turned toward the door, something telling him he'd better leave, fast! "Excuse me ladies... but I feel out-numbered."
Blanche was loosening her robe; the front draped open, revealing her lushly mature body, and Orin's eyes swiveled to take in her beauty, aware of his penis charging the gates of its cloth trap.
"Don't you wanna watch us...?" Blanche said in a little girl voice with a lewd smile curling her lips.
Christ! They're a couple of kooks! "Why would I do that?" he asked, knowing a keg of dynamite couldn't get him of there.
The red head spoke: "Most men like to watch."
"This is Sondra... Sondra, Orin Bradley."
Orin nodded mutely toward his nude encountress.
Her robe shed, Blanche dropped to the floor and Orin couldn't keep his eyes off her sensually rippling buttocks and long legs. "Just one thing... you are Mona Bradley's husband, right?"
"Yes," His eyes narrowed. "What has that got to do with anything?" Orin was truly mystified.
The two women exchanged glances, knowingly, and Blanche said, brightly, "Okay! That's all we needed to know."
Orin watched dumbfoundedly as Blanche lay down on the floor beside Sondra Murphy, one of her tiny, white hands reaching out to caress the redhead's ripely firm breasts. He took a step, looked down at them and asked; "Aren't you going to tell me what the hell is going on here? What does Mona have to do with this?"
"Later," Blanche said. "Meanwhile, why don't you get out of your pants and join us?"
"I thought you wanted me to watch?"
"Oh, that's right... but if you want... feel free."
Feeling free he was, and his rapidly swelling penis below was wanting just that-freedom! The two voluptuously naked women were facing each other now, lying on their sides, their full firm breasts mashing together, and below, he saw their thighs, straining against each other, Blanche's brown haired triangle rubbing in eager little circles against the burnt orange curling hair of Sondra's loins, whose sleekly curving thighs were spread slightly, allowing Blanche's thigh to slide up between them. Damn! Maybe they're both horny and this lesbian act is just a way of getting me in on the act...? Orin was still dubious. God knows what excites women these days...
The women's mouths melded together in a deep tongue-jousting kiss, and he noted both had closed their eyes while their hands roamed caressing over the naked contours of each other's body. He could take only a minute more before he tore off his pants and jumped down on the floor with them. Forgotten was Mona, his little 'Bunny,' and fidelity. This was the stuff day dreams were made of, and who was he to turn and run in the face of a feast like this, especially with a personal invitation?
Standing by a folded up ironing board, Orin stripped off his pants, sweater and shirt in record speed and draped it over the board, his rock-hard penis standing up at forty-five degree angle. He crawled down on the makeshift love bed seemed made just for him, his itching hands reaching out to begin a caressing exploration of each woman's satin-smooth, warmly vibrant bodies.
Their kiss broke momentarily, as Blanche looked up at him through smoke-grey eyes and murmured; "Ready now?"
"Damned right I am!" Orin blurted, asserting his masculinity which was something he hadn't done since he'd broken Mona's cherry on their wedding night and made such a mess on the hotel sheets he couldn't forgive himself for such brutishness; since then he'd softened his caresses... maybe too much. But hell, these women were the devil's mistresses... nothing virginal about them!
"Does the name Hugh Murphy mean anything to you?" Sondra asked, reaching out a hand to him. Orin shook his head, tired of questions. "He's my husband."
He pressed up close to Sondra, and she began fondling his painfully pulsating cock, her gentle fingers moving along its thick length appreciatively. "And Blanche's husband is the credit manager of the store."
"You're both married!"
"No problem," giggled Blanche reassuringly. "They don't know."
Orin was wary as a cornered mouse now; he couldn't divine these women's motives, but he was so damned heated up down there between his legs, he couldn't walk off. Besides, Sondra's hand was caressing him in a very tender spot right now. "Relax, Orin darling," she murmured. "You know, you're cute. You should grow a mustache. I love to feel mustaches tickling my pussy!"
...Then, Blanche was moving up to her knees and reversing her sensually naked body, forcing Orin to move aside as she threw one leg over Sondra's head to straddle her in the classic sixty-nine position; then spreading her firm satiny thighs, she lowered her hair-fringed pink pussy down over the redhead's face. As Orin watched open-mouthed, the blood pounding in his ears on the return trip from his blood-fed cock and he saw Sondra's pink tongue snake out sinuously between her lips and lick up toward the coral-pinkness of the cunt hovering above her head. "Christ!" he breathed, as his cock jerked. He would have loved to be doing that himself!
Sondra's faintly quivering thighs were spread wide, and Blanche's head slowly lowered down between them while Orin shifted his gaze to watch. He saw her tongue lash out to bury itself in the wetly glistening vaginal slit and as Sondra shivered with lewd delight, Orin heard mewling, humming sounds rumbling from their throats mingling with the obscene sucking noises of tongue-fucking. Hell! They were literally all wrapped up in each other, and what could he do but caress their bodies?
His hand went out between the two soft, warm bodies, first to the kneeling Blanche's, where he fondled her dangling breasts and dug his fingers into the buttery flesh, cupping them up and rolling the nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Seeing that he was free to use both hands, he slid his other hand up over Sondra's tautly rippling belly to her bosom to knead and caress her swollen breasts. He felt a pearl of pre-cum ooze ominously, and he feared he wouldn't make it through the first round without blowing it right down into the pillow. Concern about how to divide up his attentions worried him. It's impossible! I'll have to fuck one, and then the other... that means I have to hold back until the second one's ready to cum.
It sounded awfully complicated...
Now the two women were wildly grinding their wetly glistening pussies into each other's faces, and their breathing was raspy and wild. Christ, they might cum any second! Apparently, they realized it, too, for Blanche was struggling to push Sondra's savagely writhing cunt up away from her mouth and making strangling noises in her throat.
Finally Blanche raised her head from Sondra's crying pussy, her lips glistening moistly from the perfumed lubricants. She muttered, "It was so good... I almost forgot about Orin, and I want to finish up by being fucked by this gentle, kind man... isn't his prick gorgeous, Sondra'?"
Her eyes were riveted on his massive penis as she straightened herself around on the floor and lay back nakedly supine on the pillows, her thighs spreading wide in an obscene invitation to be fucked. "Come on... stick that beautiful cock in me, NOW!"
Orin obediently crawled in between her thighs and started to lower himself between them, when Sondra gasped out her objections. "NO! Why do you get him? I've got to have it... right now!"
"Christ," Orin moaned unhappily, worried he might either. "I can only handle one at a time."
Beneath him, Blanche was reaching down between their naked bodies to tightly grasp his ready cock, and with a deftly expert hand, she guided it to the heated opening of her seething pussy; then, without warning, she arched her back and bucked up against him to force his lust-swollen bloated cock head just inside her hotly throbbing cunt.
"Too bad, Sondra! I've got him in me already!" Blanche purred triumphantly, as her satiny hips undulated up to him to absorb more of his male flesh. "You can finger yourself darling... while you wait!"
Orin couldn't wait! His charging cock was already , half-buried in Blanche's tight cunt and with a quick thrust of his hips, he drove his penis deep into her, feeling the flutterings of the secretary's interior vaginal muscles all along his thick, throbbing length. Nothing short of death could stop him now! He fucked in and out of her heated pussy with a smooth, steady beat, hoping that could bring her to orgasm without cumming himself. Hell... what a predicament! Choosing between two sexually aroused and bickering women was not his idea.
"No! Wait!" Sondra cried frantically, resting her cheek down on the pillow so that she could talk to both of them. "Listen! Orin can fuck both of us at the same time! It's a weird position I learned in a San Francisco Chinatown opium den. Listen to me! I was pretty loaded at the time, but I think I remember how it works."
Even though Blanche's rapidly rippling cuntal muscles were massaging his cock to the exploding point, Orin, good patient Orin, listened. "How does it work...? I've only got one cock, you know!"
"Stop, so I can show you!" Sondra's voice was urgent and her hand stole down to her wetly throbbing pussy where she used her finger to give her clitoris a few polishing strokes. "Oh, please stop...! We can do it!"
Orin stopped humping, deeply affected by this woman's urgent need, her sobbing cry for fulfillment... to be included in the grande finale.
Blanche made a fuss. "Oh, God, Orin... keep fucking me! This was my idea, Sondra!" she spat vitriolically, her pointed fingernails clamped down on his naked
buttocks, pulling him deeper into her, while her hips did a Mexican jumping bean dance, slamming up against his hairy thatch. Then she pulled her knees up until her thighs were pressing hard against the pliant mounds of her breasts, now lightly dewed with the sweat of her arousal arousal. "Oh, God fuck me harder!"
"Come on, let's try it," suggested Orin, taking command. "I've never fucked two women at once and I want to see how it works." He raised himself up on his hands and knees, pulling his long lubricant-slick penis out of Blanche's pussy with a sucking noise. He didn't want to stop any more than she wanted him to, but in all fairness, they had to include Sondra. Futilely, the whining Blanche loosened her hold on him and he pulled himself clear of her grasping hand and writhing hips to growl, "Okay, Sondra, get on with the lessons!"
Mewling joyously, Sondra was quick to obey. "It's simple, really." Facing Orin, she slowly sat on the nakedly trembling breasts of Blanche beneath so that her openly spread vagina was directly above that of the boss' wife below.
Orin's mechanical mind perceived the machinations immediately and he crawled in between both women's widely parted thighs, as Sondra pulled her knees up and spread her legs even wider, a painless position for an ex-Las Vegas chorus girl. Looking down, Orin took in the twin, wetly waiting pussies, one above the other, only a couple of inches apart. Sandra's red haired cunt, its pink inner layers flowered open to receive his lurching penis, contrasting sharply with the brown, softly curling tendrils of Blanche's moist and crying cunt.
"Christ!" he exploded deliriously. "The Chinese got it all over us Westerners!"
"Come on, Orin... this is no culture class. Fuck us! First stick your cock in me... then pull it out all the way and fuck it into Blanche's pussy... then back and forth between us!" Sondra panted in lustful anticipation.
"Oh, God, Orinnnn! Hurry up and fuck us!" seconded Blanche pathetically.
With an ecstatic willingness born of the erotically mind-boggling spectacle of two soft warm cunts waiting hungrily there for his painfully throbbing cock to fuck them, Orin slammed his hips forward and drove his long hard penis straight into Sondra's pussy, boring deep and hard, and feeling her hot inner walls cling to him as his lust-incited cock's head flickered past her cervix and struck the far back wall of her cuntal sheath. Pulling his madly pulsating cock all the way out of her churning pussy, he tilted his hips downward slightly and sunk again into Blanche's seething vagina. All three moaned in a chorus of wanton delight.
Then Orin began to alternate, driving first upward into Sondra above, then downward into Blanche below. After several thrusts he began fucking each of them more deeply. Orin was like a child with a new toy, feeling the differences between their wet cunts, closing hiss eyes now and then and guessing which was which.
A deep-throated moan came from Blanche as her hands came up between Sondra's arms to cup the firmly bouncing mounds of her breasts; she caressed them and rolled her coned-out nipples to harder buttons. Sondra shivered and moaned in lewd delight and Orin watched the redhead kiss her husband's secretary's neck.
"Oh, Ooohhh, Ooooohhh!" Blanche mewled. "It's beautiful! Oh, my God, fuck me harrrrder!"
Slaving away above them, Orin tried! GOD, HOW HE TRIED! He slammed his thick, lust-hardened cock alternately into each of their grinding cunts, like nickels into slot machines, knowing that odds and their wild excitement would land the jackpot in one of their cunts! Who would he be inside of when his spewing, mind-blowing orgasm hit, when the acid-like burn of it scalded his manhood clear down to the hairy trunk of his cock!
Blanche came first! "Ooooohhh IIII'mmmm cummming!" Her scream rattled the tackboard walls. Her naked, young body below convulsed, long legs thrashing, and she thrust her quivering cunt up at his thick impaling shaft with such fury that she lifted Sondra and Orin completely off the floor. He rammed into her deeply then withdrew to fuck his penis into Sondra's wildly clasping cunt above. In the next instant, he was stroking into Blanche's softly heated, spongy flesh and she moaned: "Oh, God, Orin! Shove your prick in me... just a couple more time I'm... ohhhh!"
He did. And she did... cum. He stayed right there with her, punching his lurching cock into her and she came a second time with an unearthly, banshee shriek that sent the ironing board crashing against their feet. "AAAaaauuugghhh!"
Quickly, he slipped from Blanche's frantically entrapping pussy and thrust it upward, deep into Sondra's hungry pussy above, where with several non-stop jarring strokes, he brought the redhead to the brink of her release.
"Oh, that's it! Orin... you annnngel! I'm cummmming!"
As Sondra convulsed, legs flopping out to her sides and her eyes swimming unseeingly while delicious waves of relaxing muscle-spasms surged through her nakedly orgasming body.
Damn! Both of them! They both came! Orin felt like pounding himself on the chest. Closing his limpid blue eyes, he let go and his wildly jerking cock pumped deliciously as his white hot semen hosed through the nine inches of his still thrusting penis to jet from the tiny slit in its tip. Satisfied sexually... and intensely pleased with himself, he enjoyed the ecstatic sensation of his sperm jetting deep into Sondra's nibbling pussy.
"God that was something else!"
He forewent the desire to collapse on top of them, his added weight would be too much for Blanche on the bottom. Reluctantly he pulled his flaccid penis from Sondra's nibbling pussy with a lewd wet sucking sound and rolled to his side. Now Orin lay between them.
Her breathing back to normal, Blanche reached out to caress Orin's hairy chest and murmured, "You're quite a man!"
He accepted the compliment demurely; now that his body was satisfied, his mind was looking for some answers... what had his wife to do with all of this craziness?
Sondra echoed Blanche's applause: "Orin, thank you," she gushed throatily.
With false modesty, Orin shrugged off the compliment. "Hell... how often do I get to fuck such beautiful women... at the same time!"
Unexpectedly his eyebrows knitted together: "Tell me where the hell my wife fits into this?"
A moment of silence prevailed; finally Blanche opened up. "We thought this a good way for all three of us to get even with our spouses..."
"All of us?" Orin looked askance. "Sorry, but I don't understand. What have I to get even with Mona for?"
Sondra tutted, losing her patience. "You mean you didn't know she's been balling my husband and Blanche's too?"
"No! God damn it! Not Mona... not my Bunny!" His anger was quick and raging within him!
"Why would we lie to you?" put in Blanche.
"I'll be a sonofabitch! How did those bastards get to her?" he grated.
"Seems she lied on a credit application and they threatened to turn her over to the police... something, too, about you losing your service station...?" Murphy's secretary explained.
"That goddamned sunlamp!" muttered Orin.
"...Her husband passed Mona over to my husband, and..."
"I'll knock her goddamned head off."
Blanche tutted. "Just like a man! You haven't exactly been saying your prayers in the past half hour."
"Yeah, but now what...?"
Blanche was pulling on her robe. "I suggest you keep a closer eye on her until we dig ourselves out of this damned department store."
Chapter Eight
The restaurant clock read five o'clock as Mona sat at a small table in the back of the Green Leaf Tea Room, a tea bag into her steaming cup, a circle of laughing canasta players encircling her on all sides. Claustrophobia and guilt trapped her too, and she would have stayed down in the housewares storeroom had it not been for that infernal little mouse nibbling away at the cardboard boxes. Her sugar laden teaspoon poised in mid-air, she looked up to see Orin's tall frame sauntering under the trellis rimmed with artificial roses at the hostess station. Even at that distance, Mona discerned an unusual flush to his cheeks, and a determined gait.
"Surprised to find you alone," he said bluntly, pulling up a chair, something in his uncharacteristically commanding demeanor making Mona shiver.
"Wh-what's that supposed to mean...?" she flushed with apprehension.
"It means, my dear wife... that I know you've been getting yourself laid while the rest of us mope around this department store!" he rasped out at her.
"Be quiet, Orin, so nobody hears. That's not true, Orin," she lied through her clenched teeth. "I love only you!" she sobbed.
"What about Hugh Murphy and Nick Harrington?
The two names stabbed out at her and she felt as if someone had stuck her in the guts with a knife. "Oh, God!" How did he find out?
"Don't lie to me, Mona," he pursued grimly. "Don't you want to know how I found out?"
Mona fought back tears, certain now that he would leave her... ask for a divorce, but nothing would force her to admit he was right. "There's nothing to find out... be-because I didn't do anything!"
"Mona, you've never lied to me." His eyes leveled and bored into her downcast ones. "Their wives told me... and do you want to know something else?" He didn't wait for her answer. He plunged in the knife when he said gloatingly, "They threw themselves at me... to get even with their husbands... and I fucked them both... at the same time. What do you think of that, Mona?"
Mona couldn't believe her ears. Orin? My Orin did something nasty like that? "H-How! I don't understand."
"I don't know how they found out," he growled. He leaned over the table and spat, "Didn't you hear what I said? I fucked them both at the same time. Aren't you going to ask any questions about that!"
"No!" flared Mona. "Don't be so crass!" She turned her head to see two canasta players perk up their ears.
"How does it feel to know I've cheated on you? Not very much fun, is it?" he blasted, and from there he proceeded to shower her with details of his sexual encounter with the naked nymphs in the pressing room. Mona found herself becoming aroused, as his unbelievable tale churned on. Finally, when he finished, Mona snuggled her chair up close and ran her hand over his thigh.
"Darling, why don't we go upstairs to our little home away from home and make up, Orin?"
Orin banged his fist on the table. "Sure, now that you've had your fun you want to forget it. Well, let me tell you something. I'm ready to get laid by those two luscious women again. I don't forgive and forget that easily... and I'm gonna make damned sure you don't go bouncing from one hot bed to another!"
Mona's spirits fell with the temperature outside. Her overtures were spurned hideously and his blatant unfairness bothered her.
"...But you're blaming me... and then doing the same thing. That doesn't make sense!" she tried to reason.
For the remaining six hours they stayed awake on that thirtieth of December Orin would not let Mona out of sight. Exhausted, Mona reticently curled up in bed, sleeping poorly plagued with bad dreams, longing for Orin's lengthy arm to hug her close.
When they awoke that morning, the air was crisp as a bite into a cold, green apple and over the intercom thundered an announcement from fourth floor headquarters:
"We regret to inform our store patrons that our heating system is malfunctioning. There will be no heat in the store for the time being. We advise people and children to bundle up in blankets from our linen department on the first floor... I'm sure you've all found it by now. Camping lanterns will be furnished for safety and warmth his evening."
Mona looked at Orin and shivered with rattling teeth. "We... we might freeze to death before you have a chance to divorce me."
Orin rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Now don't start blaming me... you're the one who started this mess that damned sunlamp. Next time I'll think twice before I give you what you want."
Words between them were monosyllabic and few that afternoon. While Orin and Dan played gin rummy in the third floor smoker, Mona lounged r reading Cosmopolitan magazine, Orin looking up from his card hand to cast her an accusing glance with every turn of the page. He didn't say anything, he just glared at her with that stony stare.
By that evening, food rations had slimmed down to dietetic tidbits and the first twinges of real panic set in. It hit some harder than others: The fat bellied little lady who'd been seen stuffing her mouth with gourmet shoppe delights, and draping her body in see-through lingerie, sat at a corner table frowning over a bowl of cold soup.
The fifty-odd stranded storm victims gathered solemnly in the tea room... some playing cards to fend off hunger, others chatting amicably, exchanging stories, when suddenly the lights died. A scream of terror rippled through the crowd.
"Oh, God, the power's off! We're going to die!" screamed a particularly anxious woman, ripe with child.
"Some New Year's Eve this turned out to be," mumbled Mona, washing down a Nesbitt cracker with a sip of cold tea.
"Nobody panic!" It was Dan, the armed guard, standing up on a chair in a Statue of Liberty pose, brandishing a flaming Bic lighter. "Don't anybody panic! Nothing can happen if we stay calm." He remembered his two day security guard training course on crowd control when he told them to finish eating and prepare for the night, following it up with a positive weather report. "Radio says it's supposed to stop snowing tomorrow."
Anybody who knew Dan personably believed him reliable: He carried a transistor radio like most cops carry guns. "Tomorrow we'll be home to our families and loved ones."
A combined sigh of relief and loved-starved murmurs rippled through the crowd. "If we all stay in the same room, we can't freeze to death. Our body heat will keep us warm." A few giggles rose; it wasn't difficult to pick out the singles in the crowd.
Following Dan's directions, the buzzing, hustling, shuffling crowd followed the leader down to the basement's camping department where one hundred hands snatched down sleeping bags and camping lanterns. Like the blind leading the blind, they held hands and inched their way up to the fourth floor, which in the next hour turned into an indoor camp ground; replete with tents pitched from king-sized sheets and burning lanterns dangling from branches of pole lamps. Spirits seemed to brighten despite the ludicrous disaster, and when one of the teenage boys suggested a few cases of champagne to celebrate New Year, nobody objected.
Dumbfounded, half frightened and bewildered, the Bradley's listened to the fracas, separated from their bed by the escalator dividing children's from the adult's furniture. In moments, the boys' lanterns flickered up the escalator and a scraping of cardboard boxes announced the arrival of liquid spirits.
"Happy New Year!" the youth bellowed and popped a champagne cork which was the first in the gatling-gun rupture of popping corks, and the shimmer of glass reflected in lamp light flickered from hand to hand as the bottles made the rounds. Somebody snuck down to the third floor and threaded a tape of disco music and set it ablast on volume ten on the battery operated boombox speakers.
Mona, head banging against the bedstead from the bass drum beat, peeked her head out of the roof of covers and looked around at what resembled a 1960's outdoor rock concert.
Everybody joined in a toast to the New Year... jumping on beds and dancing on them, fears and defenses shed in a wild moment of celebration.
"Really, Orin, it is New Year's Eve. Why do we have to be miserable? Let's go join them for a glass of champagne." complained Mona who loved parties and dancing.
"No!"
"Why?"
"Because you'll end up in somebody's bed, that's why!"
"Orin! For god sakes, at least let me go grab another blanket from an empty bed... I'm freezing to death." When he said nothing, she blasted, "Oh, I see... then you won't need a divorce."
Gripping her arm angrily, Orin hissed back, menacingly. "Don't get smart with me Mona. You're just lucky I haven't smacked you in the jaw!"
"Orin... I'm freezing... I mean it! I'll be right back."
"When he released her, Mona was so terribly frightened, that she scuttled away from him and darted into the darkness, winding her way through the mass of merry-making humanity, searching for a blanket. This was the first time, since she'd known Orin, that he had actually threatened her with violence. Remembering the grim anger in his usually kind eyes, she dabbed at her own.
Around her everyone was kissing and holding each other, making warm body contact after two days of frozen loneliness. It turned into musical arms with faceless strangers in that blackened room, lit only by the fracturing beams of glaring lantern light. Five people joined hands in a circle dance, a circle that grew hand by hand until the fourth floor became a square dance hall of stomping feet and singing voices, swirling and twirling together drunkenly like so many whirling dervishes rejoicing over the mysteries of the universe under a full moon. Shoes flew off kicking feet, and in the heart of the foray a shirt lost a button and was tugged off, dripping with perspiration.
* * * * *
In Hugh Murphy's inner office, sealed off and lit by lanterns, heated by camp stoves, Nick Harrington and his boss sat sipping champagne cooled on a window ledge. In their midst was Dan, making his hourly report on the restless natives raising havoc.
"Go ahead, let them have their party," offered Hugh generously. "We'll have one of our own."
"But Jesus, Mr. Murphy, they're wrecking the store... tearing it up!" Dan was fearful of losing his job.
"Hell, insurance pays for that." Murphy turned to his accountant, James Alabaster, a little eunuch of a man who'd been hidden away in his office, nose in the books sorting out inventory figures, working night and day, ignorant of the white-out until his naked light bulb flickered and died. Spending New Year's Eve with his mother was no fun, so what reason had he to complain, if he couldn't get home?
"That's right. We'll have to cover the deductible, though," he answered in his chirping voice. "Can we have a girl now?" he asked, anxious for the reward
promised him if he could straighten out inventory.
"Sure, James." Hugh emptied his champagne glass and turning to Nick said; "Go get her. Drag her by the hair if you have to. Little James here deserves something nice for straightening out our books."
"Goodie, goodie!" James clapped his hands together. "What does she look like?"
"You'll love her... she's got blonde hair and the prettiest tan this side of Hawaii."
Dan started to rise and turned pale. Good Christ... that's gin rummy Orin's wife!
Chapter Nine
"Happy New Year's Eve, Mona... glad you could make it," Hugh Murphy greeted at the door, drink in hand. "Now I'd like you to meet our friends. You already know Nick Harrington..."
Mona glowered at the credit manager, lounging at ease in his chair sipping champagne, his jacket and tie off already. God, him again? Hugh followed her gaze to a runt of a man whose short legs dangled from the chair, feet not touching the ground.
"This is James, our accountant, you know Dan, the security guard."
Four? Four of them? My God! No! NO! Her mind refused to accept it. She could have screamed... but she doubted it would do any good...
And later on we may have a mystery guest!" Hugh talked as the champagne poured.
Mona felt faint. "Do you mean... there's going to be five of you? Who are going to...
"To fuck you. Yes, that's right, Mona! I'm sure you'll have no trouble. That hot pussy of yours could handle ten on a Sunday morning."
Mona shuddered at the lewd compliment, too bizarre to consider. "You're nuts if you think that I'll agree to this!"
"You don't have a choice!" He was right, for already Nick's boney hands were undressing her, layer by layer. Hugh's eyes bored into her and the commanding figure he struck caused her to obey. He stripped her down to her brassiere and panties and took them off too. Amid obscene comments from the four men in the room, she looked around dazedly to see them crowding around her and reaching out to fondle her naked breasts, tweaking her nipples and fluffing her pubic curls. When her eyes fell on Dan, the armed guard, she gave out a scream of dismay. The double crosser...!
Gorgeous piece of ass, isn't she?" crooned Murphy.
"Damned right!" Dan, feeling a bit guilty and pale, knowing better than to turn down Murphy's favors, had to agree, and reached out to touch his gin rummy partner's wife's left breast.
Naked in the midst of four virile, (well, three really...) turned-on men, she glanced around at them, seeing the lewd desire in their burning eyes and the massive bulges in their pants. Ohhhh, my God! They're serious! They're going to d-do it to m-me! All four of them!
"You can't... you can't do this to me!"
"The hell we can't!" Hugh said acidly. He nodded towards Nick who stepped to the door and locked it. Dazedly, Mona looked around the room, splattered with lantern light, and saw that the pull-out sofa had been disassembled, the mattress placed on the floor.
The mathematical genius who'd twice saved Hugh Murphy from the IRS, set his drink aside and came to Mona, his little eyes filled with raw lust, and he took her into his tiny arms, pressing her close, chin meeting chin, until the warmth of his throbbing erection was tight against her belly. He ran his hands down her back and his fingers dug into the pliant softness of her buttocks. "Yes, she is something else," he murmured. Mona stood stiffly, refusing to respond.
James was walking her backwards, now, her bare feet sliding reluctantly across the carpet until the backs of her ankles touched the mattress on the floor. The pudgy little man pushed her lush young body down onto the mattress and stepped back to strip down to his birthday suit to reveal his long, thin and slightly curving penis lancing out from the black curls of his pubic hair. At least I'll be done with the smallest one first... she thought with relief.
"Of course!" Nick Harrington responded. Then, to the other three, he observed. "She'll be a hell of a lay with a little booze in her."
Hugh growled, "Hell, she's stalling!" He reached for her and stretched her out beside him on the mattress, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue stabbing at her throat.
A knock sounded at the door and Nick hastened to see who it was. A muffled conversation took place and Nick unlatched the door, a tall handsome man
brushing past him.
"In time for goodies, Ralph," greeted Nick with a smirk.
Mona didn't notice the newcomer, too absorbed was she in the hands prying her clamped-together legs apart and caressing their inner softness with fingers running all the way upward between her spread legs to play in the golden curls for a moment, before an out-stretched finger slipped down into the warm cuntal slit to tickle the already hardening bud of her clitoris. She was pretty sure it was the fat little man stimulating her there. Then, another pair of hands was cupping and fondling her swollen breasts on the opposite side from Hugh. The fingers dug into the tender softness like kneading bread dough, and she winced. The fingers relaxed; a man's hot mouth, smelling of champagne was down there now, sucking hard on the brown button of her nipple, sending quivering chills of white hot lust through her nakedness. God, it as a repeat of yesterday, only multiplied by two.
"I've got her drink here," Harrington said solicitously. "So how about letting her up long enough drink it?"
"Drink it yourself, Harrington. We're busy now!" James Alabaster sneered, and it was evident, even to Mona, that, that ingenious midget was the brains and moneymaker behind Josephs' Department Store.
Mona struggled to free her lips from Hugh's possessive, livery mouth. After a few grunts, she gasped, "I want that drink, Nick! Give me that drink" She tried to sit up.
Hugh tried to stop her, but finally gave up. "Alright, slut! Slug it down then... so we can get on with some fucking!"
The beautiful young wife sat up dazedly, surrounded by five naked men, and accepting the champagne from Nick, she drank it greedily. Amid ribald remarks and impatient, fondling hands, Mona drained the champagne, thankful for its numbness. As Nick took the glass from her hand, James Alabaster grunted in a voice that sounded like a 33 record player on 78 RPMs. The two men glared at each other for a moment in a fight for power. "Does she suck cock, Mr. Murphy?"
"...But I-I..."
"She does whatever she's told to," beamed Nick. "She sure as hell does!"
"And she will!" added Hugh.
Alabaster stretched his short torso back on the mattress with a lewd grin. "Well...?" he questioned.
"Okay, baby, you heard the accountant... crawl over there between his legs and get started!"
Mona shot him a malevolent glance, but obeyed, nakedly crouching down between James' thick thighs, she reached out for the long, skinny shaft of his cock grasped it and hesitantly lowered her head to it.
Moving his bear-like body in behind her kneeling nakedness, Hugh rasped out, "Quit stalling... Or I'll give you some incentive strokes across the backside. Get to sucking!"
Repulsed and goosebumped with fright, the housewife worked the loose foreskin back and forth a couple of times before taking his throbbing boy-sized cock head into her wetly ovaled lips. Remembering her first lesson with Nick, she used her tongue swirlingly all around the smooth rubbery head of it, and was rewarded with a deep moan. Down on all fours, Mona bobbed her head up and down like a crazy jumping jack, working her tongue over his glistening shaft.
"Christ!" Ralph, the salesman from the men's department complained. "I wish she was sucking my cock!"
"Hang on, fellow. This is your Christmas bonus. Everybody gets a crack at this hussy."
Flanked by Ralph on one side, and Dan on the other, she felt their hands caressing and exploring her naked young body, cupping and fondling her heavily swaying breasts while fingers traced the coconut tan lines striping her body where her bikini once hugged. Behind her, the unmistakable presence of Hugh's big body was leaning over her, kissing her back, beginning up near her shoulders and moving downward, trailing his hot licking tongue down her spine. In spite of her disgust, the soft wet kisses made her shiver with unwanted delight as his tongue progressed on down, down, and down with inexorable slowness.
As James flexed his hips to drive his scalding penis up farther into her sucking mouth, Mona began absorbing more of his long thin seldom-used penis, letting it worm down her throat. The anesthetizing affects of the champagne had numbed her throat to all discomfort, and his skinny manhood caused no pain as it jabbed half way down to her esophagus. Closing her eyes, she began hollowing her cheeks to exert more sucking pressure, while she twisted her head slightly, her tongue swishing around the baby-mushroom head on each outstroke. To guide her movements, her other hand shot down to fondle his sperm-bloated chestnut-sized testicles.
Behind her, Hugh was working his way down to Mona's soft buttocks, while his hammy hands dug into the satiny, smooth flesh, his fingers prying her ass cheeks apart at the crevice, and his tongue pressuring downward until it licked at the brown eye of her rectum.
Cringing away from his velvety tongue at its first salacious contact, Mona was shocked by his audaciously obscene stimulation down there, but as erotic sensations continued to crackle through her, sparking her clear to the bellybutton, she wriggled back against his bloated face, struggling to wedge her legs wider apart, opening up a bigger playground for his searching tongue. Mona's better senses were lost to her sensuous ones and what it was she craved in these men, ribald and sexually demented, though they be, she couldn't decipher. I'm putty in their hands!
Dan on one side of her was sliding his hand down over her belly, forcing aside the reality that this was his gin rummy partner's wife whose belly button he was tickling; and as Hugh, behind her, let his mouth drift downward, until his long licking tongue lashed deep into the now seething portal of her eagerly throbbing cunt, Dan slipped his middle finger into the moist trap of her pussy slit, crying for attention and teased her clitoral bud with an erotic, maddening stroke. Mona's hips started moving as if strapped into a vibrator, undulating against both Hugh's wet tongue and Dan's finger-fucking. God! It feels so good... all those hands on me at once! I-I can't help it!
James Alabaster writhed in lewd delight beneath her vacuum-cleaner mouth, and his now expanding cock lurching involuntarily as the glistening shaft moved smoothly in and out like a greased piston between her nibbling, tightly ovaled lips.
"Ohhhh, you're so pretty. Now crawl up here on top of me and finish me off," he chortled.
Deferentially, Dan and Ralph on either side of her slid away, waiting their turn, aware of the corporate pecking order that was always in force in Hugh Murphy's loosely woven and strangely coupled organization. Mona balked. It was one thing for her to remain passive... to let them do with her as they pleased, because she was alone in her fight, it was another thing for her to be a willing martyr.
Behind her, Hugh withdrew his slithering tongue from her seeping cunt and barked: "Damn it, Mona, the man's been working for two day straight! Get your ass up there and start fucking him!"
Murphy's rumbling, commanding voice galvanized Mona into action and with trembling limbs, she crawled up timidly over James' blubbery hips, straddling him without being ordered, her tiny hand guided the hard wiener of his impatiently throbbing cock between her swollen pussy lips. Afraid she might crush this dwarfish man, she lowered herself onto his jutting erection and felt it slide smoothly up into her cunt, the rubbery cock head not quite reaching her sensitive cervix that tickled with lust. She paused to adjust herself, but the naked little man beneath her was in a hurry, his hips bucking eagerly, smacking into her pelvic bone.
"You've got a nice pussy," he complimented in a crackling voice.
A spark of sympathy for the love-starved man whispered through Mona's loins and she began to rock back and forward on him, raising her body and lowering it to drive his penis in and out of her sucking cuntal sheath. James ink-stained fingers reached up to
the full moons of her ripely swaying breasts and massaged them in tempo with her smoothly pumping hips. For the time being, the other four voyeurs could do little but watch as Mona's nakedly grinding buttock moved at a faster speed at James' urging, as he put his hands on her waist and pumped her up and down. Mona leaned forward slightly and James pulled her down to his hairless chest, her smoothly rounded buttocks still waving defenselessly high in the air behind her as she slaved away at fucking the accountant of Joseph's Department Store.
Her hands had fluttered free, and seeing his chance. Ralph slid over close, his flagpole cock dripping with pre-cum, he grasped her hand and wrapped it around his cock and flexed his hips in a masturbatory dance of lust.
Hugh took his cue and moved in close behind Mona, watching with dribbling awe as her wetly pumping pussy slid up and down the beanpole shaft of James' cock. Reaching out, he again caressed the satiny warmth of her plump buttocks, reveling in the feel of her ass muscles rippling under his strong hands. Inspiration struck and he lubricated his middle finger with saliva and pushed it against the brown button of her defenseless anus, remarking to no one in particular: "This ought to speed things up a little!"
Mona cringed from his evil intent and clenched her buttocks tight together in a feeble attempt to ward him off. In the next breath, she felt Hugh's thick finger enter her puckering anus and thrust with one smooth stroke into her quivering rectum. She moaned with the pain of it and emitted an involuntary cry of, "Oh... please, don't!"
Her answer was an obscene chuckle from Hugh, as he moved the finger in and out of the hot sponginess of her rectum, countering her even fucking movements up and down James' hardness.
Beneath her, exhausted from lack of sleep, his nerves ready to fire from his delicious fucking, he felt the bulging intrusion of the thin separating tissues that rubbed directly along the sensitive underside of his penis, intensifying the fantastically exciting feeling of her tight cunt, and knew he would be cumming in a matter of minutes. Writhing his pudgy hips, he bucked up against her pelvic bones as he felt the signaling jerks of his coming ejaculation, "Agh! Ag AAAaaaauuuggh!" he groaned loudly as his penis exploded, jetting his hot sperm up into her milking pussy. He stopped moving, holding himself rigid as jerking cock pumped it from him; he tried to grab her rotating hips and hold her still. "That's it! Stop now! Damn it!"
But Mona had no intentions of stopping now! Her pulsating pussy felt stroked so beautifully and her climax was only one pet away. God! I could cum in fifteen seconds! She realized what he was saying and realized, painfully, that his cock was softening, no longer filling her. In the next instant, she felt herself being lifted and rolled bodily, as Hugh behind her, ripped his thick finger from her rectum and hauled her nakedly resisting body from on top of James. Her fingers tore from Ralph's pulsating penis as Hugh turned her expertly over on her back and eased his burly body down between her widespread thighs, dribbling with James' still warm sperm.
* * * * *
Orin Bradley lay under the cotton roof of blankets watching with mixed incredulity and envy as the storm victims swiveled, kicking legs and waving arms to the disco beat of the Bee Gees blasting from the third floor stereo department... "Stayin' alive... stayin' alive..."
Obviously heat was no problem for them; across the escalator he could see in the glaring lantern light the fleshy shimmer of naked chests shiny with perspiration... and more than one bouncing pair of breasts had popped free of a neckline.
"Like a bunch of gypsies gone berserk," grumbled Orin, tucking the blanket up under his quivering chin, and wiggling his icy toes to make sure they were still there. Mona... where the hell is Mona and that extra blanket? His fingers reached over and touched the cold metal of his watch sitting on the nightstand under the clown clock. He held it up, squinting. The bitch has been gone for over half an hour! Now how could he excuse her for that?
Snarling with rage, he threw back the covers, stomped into his shoes and watching his breath steam in the cold bitter darkness of despair, he threw on his clothes, shirt tail hanging out. This is it... enough of this messin' around!
Blanche and Sondra weren't hard to pick out in the sweating morass of children, young singles, married couples and a few golden-aged senior citizens... and one pregnant lady. Sondra's long strawberry hair caught the orange lantern flames, casting neon red streaks of excitement in the furniture department turned dance hall. She and Blanche were bumping and grinding face to face when Orin tapped Blanche on the shoulder and screamed in her ear.
"What's happened to Mona? They've got her, the bastards!" Orin found release in blasphemy, something Mona had never allowed before.
Blanche panted to a breathy stop and swizzled around. "Hugh told me to get the hell out of the office. They've got five men in there... and I think they're all planning to lay Mona!"
"Five?" Orin exploded. "That's a damned gang bang. Who the hell are these bastards?"
"Well..." she counted on her fingers. "There's James Alabaster... the accountant. Hugh, of course and my husband, and two others. Do you know who they are?" she cupped her hand and held her mouth close to Sondra's ear.
"Ralph and Dan..." she supplied. "I saw them go in there. They wouldn't let me in!" she pouted.
"Dan? The guard Dan? Gin rummy Dan?" Orin's jaw fell from shocked deceit. "Okay, we know where she is, but how do we get to her?"
Orin's blue eyes fastened on the business office area at the other end of the fourth floor.
"Well, we could even up the numbers, I suppose..." Sondra suggested with a glinting smirk. "Make things easier on Mona."
"What do you mean, even things up?" Orin queried with a lopsided grin.
"Well, it's five to one now on Mona. That's a lot of dick if she isn't used to it. Blanche and I could make it easier on Mona," Sondra reasoned.
"...Or six to three if Orin came along," added the secretary.
"Oh, I'm coming along. I don't want Mona getting hurt... but how do we get in?" Real concern shoved aside anger now.
"You forget, I'm the secretary... I open the office every morning." She shoved a half empty champagne bottle under Orin's nose. "Drink this, you're gonna need it..."
Chapter Ten
Nick Harrington contented himself voyeuristically for long minutes, but now as the ace accountant who'd won Hugh Murphy's generous favors for his twisted little business mind gasped out his orgasmic pleasure, he took his rightful place in the pecking order. He watched as Hugh Murphy turned the shamelessly aroused and begging-to-be-fucked Mona Bradley onto her back and lowered his hairy bulk down between her trembling thighs that shimmered with sweat and drying sperm on her inner thighs. The lamp light caught the glistening length of Hugh's thick cock prodding at the portal of Mona's flowered open cunt. As Nick watched, he decided how to best use this sex-craze young woman, something he'd tried only with a cheap prostitute in Detroit on a business convention. His eyes fixed on Hugh who began to fuck in and out of Mona's gripping pussy with long smooth strokes, and the shock of the deep body jarring thrusts reflected in the jouncing of her ripely quivering breasts. Damn! She got the prettiest boobs I've ever seen!
Crawling across the mattress and crowding the eagerly panting Ralph aside, Nick's eagerly itching hands reached out to both of her firmly tanned mountains, cupping them up. He pulled them close together. noting how they created a fleshed cleavage pocket and came up into high-standing cones. Yeah, damn... that'll be great!
On the other side of the door, Blanche's knuckles turned white from pounding. "Art! I know you're in there! Let me in!"
Groaning with disgust, Nick shot a malevolent look at the door and barked; "Blanche? What the hell do you want?"
"Listen, Nick... I know you've got Mona Bradley in there... and that there at least four other men with you! Sondra and I are coming in to join you... and sort of spread the fun around!"
"Hell you are!"
"I can and I will... because if Mona's husband had his way, he'd be signing a police complaint charging you and those yo-yos in there with you with kidnapping!"
"Oh, shit! Is he coming in here too?" For a moment, Nick's poise fled him; he looked ready to bolt.
"Sure he is! If we change your gang bang into a swapping party... maybe Orin will change his mind."
"Stop talking about kidnapping!" The word had shocked every male in the room. Only Mona, bent on her hot quest for orgasm, remained unaffected.
"You better believe me, Nick... you could go before the judge for this!" bellowed Blanche.
"Damn it, okay. The more the merrier, I suppose." As if the others hadn't heard the conversation shouted between a locked door, Nick made the general announcement: "My wife Blanche and Hugh's wife Sondra are bringing Orin Bradley in here to swing with us!"
"What the hell?" Hugh growled. "Not with my wife!" snarled Hugh as he drove his thickly pumping cock deep and hard into Orin Bradley's wife's moist, red-hot cunt. "Aaaggghh!" she moaned unaware of what had been said.
"I'll let you in, in a second!" yelled Nick, disgruntledly.
Locating his boxer shorts and slipping his skinny legs into them, Nick slumped into a chair and poured himself another drink, warming his stockinged toes by the battery run foot warmer. He downed the champagne in one gulp and speculated on how it was possible for Blanche to have found out about Mona being in the office. Her mention of 'swinging' made him suspect, also, that she was getting a little on the side. But who the hell with....?
Finally Nick went to open the door.
Blanche, standing in the middle flanked by Hugh Murphy's wife and Mona Bradley's husband, smiled sweetly at him, her eyes taking in the bulge of his still half-hardened penis inside his striped boxer shorts. She smiled and said demurely; "I'm sorry to take away from your fun, darling... but it's not fair is it?"
"What's not fair?" growled Nick, opening the door wider and letting them file through.
"For one woman to get all that attention." Nick grabbed his wife by the arm and dragged he aside. "Don't make a fool of me in front of the boss, damn you. I had to do it... Alabaster and Murphy wanted it that way!"
Sondra, squinting in the darkness, walked to the middle of the room and looked down to see her husband nakedly slaving away above Mona's wildly responding body, his hips rising and falling with machine-like regularity as he jack-hammered his purple-knobbed cock into her nibbling vagina. Walking nonchalantly over to the mattress on the floor, Hugh's wife gazed down at him, remarking.. "Hugh, darling, I'm here... and you're going to get your chance to see me get laid by another man... like it or not!"
"The hell!" Hugh didn't miss a stroke into Mona's cunt.
Ralph, the salesman, who was lying close beside Mona, had placed her soft hand again on his straining cock, while his own hands caressed her goosebumped breast, his finger and thumb rolling her nipple-buds into hard marbles. Looking up, he gasped at the sight of his sometimes-lover standing there, a redheaded vixen of loveliness. She was availing herself to him... and in front of the boss, too. Hell what an opportunity to get even with that blowhard! In seconds, he was on his knees before Sondra as he unhooked Mona's tightly gripping fingers from his stalky erection. "Do you mean that, Sondra?"
Sondra gazed down at his ready-to-fuck cock and smiled. "You heard me." She kicked off her shoes and automatically, he reached up under her skirt, his hands running smoothly up her thighs while she began stripping off her blouse. Ralph assisted by slipping his fingers in the tight waistband of her flimsy little panties and peeling them down over her curving hips and thighs, as she smiled archly and stepped out of them revealing her strawberry tressed pubic mound and gleaming white buttocks.
Meanwhile, Dan, welcoming the chance to get a crack at the corporate head's luscious wife, stood up and came around behind her. Without hesitation he unhooked her brassiere with the simple grace and removed it to see her ripe luscious full breasts glimmer nakedly in the shadowing lantern light, his hands going around her from behind to fondle her soft warm fleshy mounds.
Sondra jumped from the contact of his cold hands, and to warm him up, she reached back behind to grip his solidly pulsing cock that jabbed warmly against the small of her back.
Ralph, still kneeling in front of Sondra, finished undressing her by zipping down her skirt to let it puddle to her slender ankles. With a low moan of hunger, he wrapped his arms around her long, smoothly tapering thighs as his mouth aimed for the pink triangle of her pubic mound. Quickly, his tongue licked down from above into the warm pink moistness of her cuntal slit and came into tingling contact with the studding erection of her marbly clitoris. Sondra whimpered like a hungry kitten at the delicious contact with her sensitive nerve bud and her legs trembled weakly as she slid down to the softness of the mattress between the two nakedly virile men, her thighs splayed obscenely to Ralph and his wetly slithering tongue. Then Dan got in on the action, kissing her mouth, his hands roving over Sondra's lush curves and mounds, as his tongue lashed deeply into the sweetness of her mouth. Sondra sighed and quivered with lewd expectancy, her arousal swelling tenfold at the sight of her husband, not three feet away, slamming his mushroom-headed cock in and out of Mona's stretched pussy.
Nick and his wife stood there in an argumentative stances, but Orin Bradley was not interested in listening to their squabble as Harrington began to castigate his wife Blanche for interfering with his fun! "Listen, Nick... I'm sick and tired of your playing around. It's okay for men, but not for women. What kind of moronic sense does that make?" she blasted.
Orin moved off to the corner of the private, plush office following Sondra's lead. Both she and Blanche had briefed him against showing jealousy, and above all, not to use his fists. Still, it took every bit of patience and cool-headedness he possessed to contain himself as he caught his first glance of Mona lying flat on her back, her passionately quivering legs spread wide and pulled up and back, mashing her tan and white striped breasts flat to her chest, accepting all of Hugh's thundering cock and mouthing silent pleas for more. That took the patience of Job, but he watched silently as Hugh's cock cleaved his wife's tender young pussy, her wetly throbbing cunt flowered open and distended torturously to take it all in. He withered at the sight of his wife's beautiful baby-face twisted in lustful passion... a passion he had seldom seen in her. Seething with anger and hurt, he pumped his fists, wishing he could settle this with a few well-placed punches... But Blanche and Sondra said to play it cool... making it a swinging party, so at least I can keep my eye on Mona!
Of course, lurking in the back of his mind was the knowledge that he had enjoyed Hugh's wife... had fucked her to a soaring orgasm, but now, faced with the reality of seeing his own wife in the throes of ecstasy beneath another man's belly, that was close to unbearable.
Her turquoise eyes closed, head flailing in a flounce of blonde curls, Mona felt all her nerve ends terminate seemingly right there in that tightly stretched hole up between her legs that Hugh Murphy filled so wonderfully. Suddenly, she moaned aloud, unaware of her enraged young husband feet away, watching, listening. "Fuck me harder, Hugh! Oh God, shove it in me deeper... and harder. I want all of your cock! All of it!"
Blinded with fury, knowing only that somehow he was going to get even, Orin raised his eyes from the mattress surrounded with flaming lanterns streaking red over his wife's naked body and saw that Ralph and Dan were already involved with Sondra Murphy. Methodically stripped of her clothing, she lay between the two men, whose four hands roved across her body like lost birds looking for a place to nest and lying at the other end of the mattress was a strange looking fellow Orin assumed to be James Alabaster, the mathematical genius. During his angry inspection of the room, Orin's penis had come up hard and throbbing. Without thinking, he crossed to the mattress, zipped down his fly, and reached in to haul out the massive stalk of his angry, flushed cock. I'll give her some cock to remember, God damn it!
Kneeling down beside his mindlessly, lustfully lost wife on the mattress, Orin reached out to keep her head from rolling, tightly gripping her by the delicate jaw, while his other hand held the purple veined shaft like a weapon, and he worked the loose foreskin back to reveal its mushroom shaped head. He gripped her face, forcing her to face him and growled; "Here, God damn it, Mona... let me give you some cock if you need it so bad!"
Mona popped open one passion-clouded eye to gaze directly into her husband's slitted cock-eye, dribbling with pre-cum. Eyes fading with fright, she snuck a peak at his stony face, seeing the fearsome expression of it and knowing Orin had reached his saturation point with patience. Dear Lord... he thinks I'm here because I want to be! Immediately she understood what he wanted... what he was going to force her to do...! And she remembered all those nights she'd absolutely refused to take his penis into her mouth. Maybe she could calm him down.
"Darling... you're here!"
"Yeah ... I'm here, and now start sucking on my cock, you bitch!"
As if he were pulling a tire lose from its frame, he pulled her head roughly close to him while he wriggled closer to her, spreading his knees wide and shoving the hotly throbbing head of his cock hard against her lips. She tried to twist her head aside, but he held her tight. "Wait... it's not like you think... I..."
"Suck!" He thrust his hips forward against his wife's moistened, parted lips, and automatically she ovaled them as the satiny rubbery length slipped inside. Instinctively, her tongue began to swirl around the sensitive tip and the little glans at the end. Orin shuffled forward further, groaning in an effort to ram more of his maledom down his wife's choking throat.
Between her widespread thighs, Hugh worked savagely, slamming his demanding cock with sledge hammer thrusts deeply into her belly. His balls ached, begging to explode its flesh-searing load. Dismay and joy mingled in him: dismay and disappointment at not being able to bring Orin's wife to orgasm, which was a point of pride with him in his prowess with women; the joy, of course, was the natural one of ecstatic anticipation of ejaculation. Damn it! Why did her husband have barge in here with my wife and Blanche? Hugh had been so wrapped up in his own sexual play, he could watch only helplessly as his wife brazenly threw herself at his salesman and armed guard. And that damned Bradley... forcing his wife to suck him off, just when I'm ready to cum... cum!
Viciously, he rammed his wildly spewing cock deep into her nibbling pussy as far as he could for one final plunge, pubic bone crashing hard into hers and making her moan and whimper. His white hot semen rushed in spasmodic gushes, pumping from the tiny eye to jet deep into the young wife's quivering womb. "Aaaggghh!" he grunted in disgust. "Christ! I blew it too soon!" His bulky body slumped down on top of her, interfering with Orin who was shoving all but a millimeter of his cock down his wife's throat.
In the corner of the room, Nick and Blanche ended their verbal battle with Blanche's promise for no more double standards in their marriage. In short, succinct statements, she declared her sexual freedom.
"We can split up... or we can swing together as a couple. But no more of this behind-my-back stuff! I want to have a good time out of life!"
It was an ultimatum Nick couldn't argue against. "Damn it, have it your way... but so far, all we've done is talk about it. Let's get in on the action!"
They plunged into the middle of the room, eyes hungry for a spare pussy, a flaccid cock. Both stared down at lucky Sondra Murphy now nakedly up on her knees, her smooth alabaster buttocks humping back against Ralph who was fucking her dog style from behind, slamming his king-sized cock deep into her slippery cuntal hole. Also on his knees in front of the strawberry haired ex-show girl was Dan, unconsciously grinding his teeth in blind lust as Sondra worked her mouth around the blood-fed erection sliding easily in and out of her practiced lips.
Whimpering with lust, Blanche stepped out of her dress while beside her, Nick stripped off his boxer shorts and, dropping to his knees, crawled over to the triumvirate writhing on the mattress. Now was Nick's chance to get at Mona! Hugh obviously was coming down to the wire, ready to cum in a flash. In a countless second it happened, and Hugh's bearish body sagged heavily down on top of Orin's luscious blonde wife. With wily alacrity, he noted that his boss had failed to bring the coconut-tanned blonde to orgasm... for Mona was punching her pelvis up and down in an invitation for someone-anyone-to finish her off.
Nick nudged his boss. "Dammit, Hugh, how about getting off of her, so I can have turn on her!" His command bordered on insolence, he knew, but Blanche's interruption had fired his impatience. Besides, he was tired of playing second fiddle to that little Nero, Alabaster.
Surprisingly, the bully figure of Hugh Murphy stirred and rolled away to his side of the mattress like a bowling ball skimming down the gutter. With an unintelligible grunt, he glared over at Sondra, involved with her own thing with Ralph and Dan and grated; "When I get you alone, you little whore, I'm going to fuck the ass off of you!"
Of course she couldn't answer back with her mouth stuffed full of cock and everytime she caught her breath, Ralph jabbed her from behind. Dan was just about ready to cum and Sondra bobbed her head up and down the warm shaft of his pulsing penis, trying to match the obscene tempo of his thrust as he savagely fucked his cock faster and deeper into her hungry mouth and throat. Trembling with anticipation, Sondra waited for the hot flood of Dan's sperm to explode into her mouth; even so, she heard and thrilled at her husband's threat to 'fuck the ass' off her. Ooohhhh! I hope so!
Orin had been on the brink of telling Hugh what he thought of him when Nick interrupted. As Harrington pushed himself up and rolled away from on top of Mona, Orin snapped at Nick. "Not so damned fast, Harrington! She's my wife... I'm going to fuck her now!"
Kneeling up, he pulled his saliva-glistened penis out of Mona's sucking mouth and bellowed: "Get up on your knees, woman! I'm going to fuck like a man!" The insult, aimed at Hugh, fell on deaf ears.
Mona, her eyes glazed with arousal, disappointed with Hugh's untimely orgasm, hastened to her knees. "Ohhh, darling, Orin! I want you to f-fuck me any way you w-want!" In a flash her buttocks were waving in an obscene invitation back toward her husband who had knee-walked into position behind her, his penis threaded with saliva and lubricating pre-cum.
Disheartening it was for Blanche, as she kicked aside her panties that the only man not involved in copulation in one form or another, was James Alabaster. He was lying there, watching after having satisfied Mona's pounding pussy. It tickled him, too, that Hugh Murphy, big blow-hard Murphy couldn't make her cum. And they thought I was inadequate... hmmff!
Alabaster's eyes fell on Blanche standing there nakedly voluptuous with her smoky grey eyes, and he knew that the ultimate power ploy would be to fuck the boss's womanizing credit manager's wife... the boss' own lover! Her creamy white skin was a sharp contrast to Mrs. Bradley coconut tan, and her sensually mounded body, pointed up in full melonous peaks, were tipped with rosebud nipples... an erotic vision to a man who'd spent two days tucked away in an office alone. He reached down to touch his stirring penis... perhaps to make certain it was still working. His five foot frame wiggled over to her, coming up to her chin.
"It's getting crowded over there," he squeaked. Then he took her in his pudgy little arms and kissed her with a, deep lashing tongue, open-mouthed as he moved her backward toward an upholstered arm chair in the corner.
Beggars can't be choosey... Blanche reminded herself, feeling the soft velour of the chair cushion soften the blow as she slumped down into the chair.
In a flash the little man was kneeling down in front of her, his hands going up under her knees to lift and spread her smooth thighs apart. Deftly, he draped her flexed legs over the chair and as he leaned forward, Blanche instinctively rotated her pelvis... wanting his tongue there in the seeping folds of her pussy.
"Goddd, that's nice!" she crooned as James' head wedged between her trembling thighs and his long hot tongue shot out to lick her hardening clitoris.
Hugh did a double take as he recognized the groaning woman in the chair as Nick Harrington's wife... and his mistress! A flow of rekindling sexual interest coursed through him. Being the virile man that he was, his heart pumped gushing blood into his growing cock and trapped it there, building another hard erection. Well, hell... I might as well even things up! There are twice as many cocks as cunts. He hauled himself off the mattress and ambled over to where Blanche and James monopolized the softest chair in the room, his penis spearing boldly from his salt and pepper pubic hair, ready for a close encounter.
As Orin came in behind his kneeling young wife, Mona, whose naked tanned striped buttocks undulated like a waving flag back toward him, Nick snickering, "If you wanna satisfy the woman, give it to her in the ass!"
Mona heard his vile urging and moaned, "Nooo, Orinnn, don't you dare!"
Orin recognized the fitting punishment for his wife's debauchery. He forgot for a moment that the man suggesting it was completely responsible for her forbidden infidelity in the first place.
"Shut up! You told me I could fuck you any way I wanted..." Putting his words into action, Orin reached out to the beige moons of her buttocks and with strong fingered hands, pried apart her clenching buttock cheeks. Holding them widespread, he dipped the lust swollen head of his throbbing penis into the hot slippery moisture-a lurid mixture of saliva, female cum and male sperm-and aimed it straight at the tiny brown eye of her tightly puckered anus. His pulsating cock head jabbed at the defenseless button and he pushed hard, using all the strength in his muscular legs and back.
Orin grunted with the effort as he felt the elastic opening give a little. "It's tighter than hell!"
"It'll go in," Nick cheered from the sidelines, wishing he was doing that himself.
"Orin... baby... don't... you'll ruin me back there!"
"No I won't!" countered Orin. "Push your ass back against me just like you did with these other bastards. PUSH, GODDAMN YOU!" His hand whined through the air and came down in a stinging slap against her buttocks. Nick grinned at her sharp scream.
Abject in humiliation, trapped in a room with six sex-crazed men (the worst of which was her own husband), Mona was forced to cooperate. She tried to relax and push back against him, but gained only a searing pain for her trouble. "Ooouuggh!" she shrieked. "It hurts too much," she hissed between clenched teeth.
Nick was down on his hands and knees coaching. "It only hurts for a little while! You'll get used to it! It'll slide in like greased lightning if you just relax."
Sweat beaded on Orin's brow. Her tightly clenched anus was locked like a vise around his purple veined cock; her sphincter ring felt as if it were contracting rather than stretching. But he was committed to his task and with a surge he rammed hard, forcing the tip of his cock far enough inside of her rectum to feel the spongy walls. It was the most intensely erotic sensation he had ever felt. "Christ!" he choked, then rammed forward, again, gaining another half inch.
"Oooooooohhh! Myyyy! GGoddddddd!" Mona screamed with the pain of it.
Instinctively, Orin gripped her bucking hips and pulled her roughly back toward him, while he drove his loins forward with jackhammering thrusts. Inch by painful inch, his cock bored into her tense rectum until finally almost all of it was buried deep inside her hot, private walls. Looking down, the lantern illuminated the cruelly stretched little anus clenching and unclenching like a baby mouth. It's in, by God, I got it in!
He stopped pushing then, knowing that his wife's virginal rectum would need a moment to adjust to this new delight, but he couldn't help the involuntary lurch of his cock buried deep inside her buttery depths. Each time his overly excited penis spasmed, it brought another wail or squeal from Mona's swollen lips. God damn, this is really wild!
Now that his cock was in her hideously stretched backside, flexing and squirming around in its unnatural burial ground, it felt better... much better. The pain had metamorphasised into a dully erotic sensation. She moaned, this time not with pain but with desire... a wildly insane desire for Orin to go on and on, using her rectum back there just as her cunt and her mouth had been used.
Her hips bucked and her lips quivered, mouthing pleas. "Orin... darling...? Fuck me there! Go ahead... and fuck me there!" Even as she moaned out her supplications, she wasn't prepared for Nick Harrington's suggestion.
"Now... if you'll flip her over, Orin... and keep your cock shoved all the way up in her asshole, I'll be able to fuck her, too... in the cunt! She'll go crazy over that!"
Neither man seemed to have heard her gasped out objection, for in the next moment, her husband had wrapped his strong arms around her and was rolling them both over until she was lying full length on top of him-her back pressed against his hairy chest-with his throbbing stalk of maledom buried like some giant log deep up inside her sensitively puckering rectum. Her legs were splayed wide apart, white threads of cum-some old, some recent-sticking to her legs.
Orin, her once gentle, sweet Orin rasped in her ear: "Now you're going to get enough cock, damn you!"
Helplessly trapped between the two men, she felt Harrington crawl between their legs. A pearl of pre-cum dripped from the slit of his penis, needlessly lubricating its way for the plunge that would fill Mona Bradley's cunt to bursting, stuffing her like a Thanksgiving turkey. The sensation registered as exquisite in her brain as it slipped in, filling her with man-cock. "Oh, God! Don't make me wait! Fuck me! Fuck me... hard! Both of you!"
Then she was buffeted from above and below, both long virile penises moving in her with a wildness that knew no equal, and she matched that wildness as she bucked her hips upward against Nick to absorb all of his cock into her pinkly swollen pussy, then fucked downward against her husband to feel his grinding deep into the hot tightness of her anal canal. It was all too heady... so ridden with erotically delicious sensations that her senses began to desert her one by one: eyes dimming with lust and ears buzzing and unhearing, but leaving her feeling it all... the only important sense upon which she concentrated was the electric sensations of lustful sexuality as she was fucked in the anus, fucked in the cunt... and fucked into sweet oblivion.
Ralph, slamming his purpled knobbed manhood into Sondra's receptive pussy from behind, brought the redhead to her first orgasm while she sucked kittenishly on Dan's long hard pole. Moments later, his own climax pumped to spew his scalding cum deep up inside her convulsing cuntal channel. Wild to drive toward his own ejaculation, Dan shoved Ralph in the chest, pushing him away. "You've had her! Now it's my turn!" Kneeling up, he pulled his cock out of Sondra's softly nibbling mouth, flipped the naked redhead over on her back and shoved his cock up into her steaming pussy. Insanely, he fucked into her, pounding deep and hard with desperate strength... and Sondra came again, just ahead of his own explosion.
"Aaaaaaaahhh! GaaawWWd!"
Dan collapsed wearily on top of her with a grunt of satisfaction. "Christ, what a woman!"
Hugh Murphy had been making amends with his secretary, kissing and fondling her naked breasts as she sat spread-legged in the chair while the kneeling accountant tongue-fucked her to ecstatic heights of ecstasy. Her hips ground up against his wet tongue, smashing his nose against her clitoris. Suddenly she broke her kiss with Hugh, gasping: "Oh, that's wonderful... but I've got to have a cock in me now!"
Alabaster raised his bobbing head and she slid from the chair down to the thick carpet, stationing herself in front of a heater with her thighs wide in reception. Eagerly her hands groped down to pull at his long thin penis as he wiggled up between her legs. She guided him straight into her seeping cunt and her hands shot down to pull him hard and tight into her loins. "Now! Fuck me with everything you've got!"
Going down to the rug beside her, Hugh Murphy intended to have her suck him off while James fucked her, but his attention was diverted by his wife's screaming climax under Dan's pounding pelvis. Hugh's pale blue eyes flashed with jealousy and an unwarrantably injured pride. So inured was he to the double standard of behavior, he found it damning to tolerate her brazen salacity. I'll teach her who's boss when we get home!
His piggish eyes shifted to the mattress where the three figures punched and thrust against each other, all yelling out mating calls of lust. Two men fucking one woman was something he'd like to try himself and watching Mona Bradley's greedy response at being sandwiched in between Nick's slamming cock in the cunt and her husband's deeply buried manhood in her anus, cemented his assessment that Mona could take on ten men at once.
A banshee cry of womanly lust pierced his ears and his eyes followed the sound waves to the floor where his secretary, Blanche Harrington, sweated under the stiffening body of his accountant. One final plunge into Blanche's quivering pussy and the dwarfish fellow gasped in complete exhaustion as another pint of his sperm shot out to splash against Blanche's thirsty cervix.
Hugh Murphy wanted part of the action-after all, this was his office, his company. Mona Bradley had no room for more cocks and fucking his wife in public was no way to usher in the New Year. Inspiration of a new sort flitted through his body. Waiting for a moment, Hugh knelt down beside his secretary and prodded James Alabaster into moving aside. "You got your reward... she's my secretary!"
Obligingly, too tired to resist, James rolled away, completely satiated. He'd cum twice.
Hugh straddled Blanche's naked body and, as she gazed up through sex-glazed eyes to see him swimmingly, she murmured. "Oh, it's you, Hugh! Fuck or suck... which will it be?"
"Neither!"
"Huh?"
"This!" He spat into his palm and rubbed the saliva over the knob of his pulsing, cock. Sliding himself up further, still straddling her, Hugh reached out to cup the pliant melons of her breasts; then pushing them up from the sides toward the center of her chest, he flexed his hips forward and slid his heavy veined cock into the soft, warm, buttery channel between. "Now, Blanche, you hold your tits up for Hugh, and I'm going to have some fun!"
"...But, what will I get out of this?" she started to protest.
Hugh cut her short. "Don't worry... you'll be taken care of."
"Nick never did this to me!"
Hugh Murphy flexed his hips, driving his seeping penis in between the soft satiny flesh of her breasts as she obediently held them tightly together. Damn! This is just a sophisticated kind of masturbation! But whatever Hugh wanted, Hugh got... and this silliness proved just that. I'll just have to put up with it... like I put up with everything else.
Blanche wasn't prepared for the erotic sensations of his heavily swaying testicles scraping tantalizingly across her naked belly and a flicker of arousal glowed deep up in the pulsing, sperm-filled hole between her legs.
Over on the mattress, Mona was mewling and purring, moving in concert with her husband brutally fucking into her anus and Nick ramming so deliciously into her throbbing cunt. Suddenly, everything tingled from her toes to her finger tips and she felt as though a volcano were ready to blow inside of her. Soaring, she rose to meet her orgasm, convulsing with a scream: "Ohhhhh! Goddd! Fuck haaarder! I'm cummming!"
Never in her four years of sexual experience had Mona climaxed so intensely. Her naked young body shivered as thrills of orgasmic pleasure shimmered like deep-throated organ notes through her. For a moment she felt faint, her eyes dimmed and blood pounding in her ears like raging surf.
Beneath her, Orin brutally thrust his hips upward, his penis boring another inch up into his wife's rectum as his sperm-filled balls let loose with a pint of semen. His cum surged through him like molten lava. "Christ!" he gasped. "Ohhhh, Bunnnnnnnnnnny!" On and on his cock pumped, even though he lay quite still, not stroking at all, just lying there and feeling her rectal muscles milking him of all strength and feeling Nick's cock through the thin membrane separating cunt from rectum.
Above, Nick Harrington pounded and pummeled into Mona's cunt, splashing out his orgasm and collapsing on top of the reunited Bradley's.
None of the three moved, and the room fell quiet, save for the grunting sputters from down on the floor where Hugh Murphy straddled Blanche, fucking her between the breasts.
"Oh, God, fuck me, Hugh! Fuck me in the cunt!"
He did and she did... fuck-both cumming in less than a minute.
Afterward, they all lay half comatose, watching the lanterns flicker. One by one, bodies cuddled together for warmth, the sizzling heat of lust having warmed the room to a seasonable comfort.
States of emergency do bring people closer together, and out in the furniture department, bodies contacted in provocative rapacity, huddling together for heat, cuddling for security, kissing to welcome in the New Year. In drunken bliss, under a roof of blankets, more than one child was conceived on that blustery eve.
Chapter Eleven
Exactly sixty-two days had elapsed since the rescue squad unearthed the snowy burial ground of Joseph's Department Store parking lot and the victims, weary but unexplainably high spirited, returned home to families and lovers.
Mona Bradley sat in the outer office retyping for the fourth time a memo from Hugh Murphy to the staff, announcing this year's office party to be held at a retreat he'd rented in the mountains. He knew how to keep his employees happy.
Mona handed the memo to her employer for his signature. "Is that okay, Mr. Murphy, Sir?" She asked, knowing that anything she did had to please her demanding boss right down to his hairy testicles. Even though he could be a stern, demanding task-master, he pleased her, too... they'd managed to adjust to each other rather painlessly, considering their tightly knit working relationship of submissive secretary and domineering, demanding boss.
"Looks fine this time, doll... now come into the office for some dicktation." He raised his eyebrows until they knit one hairy line across his nakedly furrowed forehead.
Mona submissive to her boss' every demand, quickly and obediently slithered out of her tight, tube knit sheath dress, kicking it to a corner, she sat down on Murphy's lap, straddling his legs, his stony erection jabbing and slapping against her belly. Pooching out her lips, she lowered her mouth to his and slithered her tongue between his beefy lips, then drew back unexpectedly.
"Oh, one thing... Sir!" She put a polished fingertip to her glossy lips and smirked. "Our new credit manager caught a woman lying on her credit application. Rather pretty little thing... she's Hawaiian with long black hair down to her buttocks. She's sitting in his office now. I thought you might like her. What are you going to do about it?"
Hugh Murphy bellowed out a two-ton laugh. "After we finish up here, bring that little hussy in here and I'll set her straight!"
Two months ago Mona would have told him in no uncertain terms where to go, but now that she had worked for her new boss and learned to obey his whims and needs, she also learned of her need to be completely dominated by a powerful demanding man like Hugh.
She still loved Orin, but things were different between them now. Orin had hired himself a buxom little gum chewing high school girl with flaming red hair to do his books and answer the telephone, since she knew he no longer considered their marriage to be sacred any longer, her own mind was one hundred percent clear of guilt.
"Yesss, Sir!" purred the blonde-headed secretary climbing off Hugh's lap and falling slavishly to her knees, her anxious fingers working at his zipper while she wet her tongue for the task that lay half erect in her hand now. "Let me take care of you first, and then I'll bring her in..."
