He was coming on stronger than usual, she knew that. The thought crossed her mind that she couldn't play her game much longer. Lou would either get what he wanted . . . needed ... out of her, or he would take off, and then where would she be? Actually, she felt the warm yearnings as badly ... or as beautifully ... as he did. Her crotch was moist from the desires that had welled up inside her belly. She hated that word, belly. But it was there. Oh was it ever there! Lou had travelled the same course before, she knew that, with one singular goal in mind. To drive her mind and body to the point of no return. Well, he was doing a better job than usual, tonight. She was so hot! Her nipples tingled, hard as rocks. Even the saliva in her mouth seemed to be flowing more like a raging river than a gentle stream. He was getting to her! She couldn't deny that.
This isn't where she wanted it to happen to her. Not here. Not in this old apartment building on Rhode Island Avenue in Washington, D.C.-with the musty smell of varnish that dated back to the late 1920s.
He kissed her wetly, sucked at her lower lip, breathed hotly into her ear. Oh God! Save me!... from myself!
Not an unusual scene. There were a half million or so others exactly in the same state of progress around the country. Boy with girl. Girl losing control. Boy pressing his advantage. Girl saying, "What the hell, I'll do it!" This scene happened to be in the somewhat ancient Lamont Apartments, right in the middle of metropolitan Washington.
Most of the tenants in the Lamont were pensioners, but a few were single working girls, part of that faceless horde of typists, file clerks, and junior secretaries caught up in the grind of civil service machinery. In the high-posted, three-room quarters of apartment 211 lived just such an example of a very pert, very pretty government worker, or G-girl as they're sometimes called. Vicky Martin was twenty, 6 blonde, innocent-faced and freckled, and was still youthfully idealistic about working for Alexander Blum. Despite the depressing pallor of her apartment and the constant need to scrimp on her meager salary, it was still an improvement over living in Rock Fall, population 2,314, its main income from peanuts and sweet potatoes.
The thing was, Vicky kept telling her few girlfriends, was that Washington, D.C. was so exciting! And it gave her great pride and a sense of accomplishment to know that she was doing her small part for her country and government. Take the energy crisis, for example: why, it was fun burning candles, and somehow more romantic to know that everybody was pulling together. In Rock Falls, a person couldn't even buy candles if so desired, unless they were those spindly little birthday sticks, and they never had pleasant Oriental scents and pretty colors like the ones she could burn here.
At the moment on this inky wet night, three fat multicolored candles were burning in her living room. They cast nickering shadows across the imitation Persian carpet, and licked teasingly at the overstuffed sofa of blue velveteen, and warmed the only other light in the room, the cool phosphorescence radiating from the television set. The candles were lit more for romantic reasons than to conserve electricity, for tonight Vicky was entertaining her current boyfriend, Lou Sharpe. They'd been at the pizzeria just around the corner, and were now enjoying some burgundy wine and the candles, and pretty much ignoring the movie on the television while they cuddled together on the couch.
Lou stroked Vicky's back, up and down along her spinal column, and made secret shivers course through her inexperienced young body. She curled up beside him, pressing against his clothing still damp from the wet night.
"Oh, Lou," she sighed. "You do things to me..."
The young man pressed his lips down, tasting the salt of their kiss. He kissed her again, feeling her stiffen with apprehension and restraint, but he kept on kissing her. Her breath didn't smell of cigarettes like so many of the girls' breath did, but milk-fresh and slightly tangy with the wine, and she held onto him despite her silent mental objections, sending his own loins stirring with rocket-like desire. He wanted her-God, how he wanted her! It might take awhile, for Vicky was no cosmopolitan pushover, ready to leap into bed with the crook of his finger. She'd hold out and make a big production out of it, but 8 sooner or later he sensed that she'd surrender. She was a sexy, passionate girl underneath, all right!
Slowly he moved his hand up to her left breast, and began squeezing it gently, tentatively . . . and as expected, Vicky lifted his offending hand away and shook her head. But her lips remained glued against his mouth, a strong indication of the conflicting desires straining inside of her. After stroking her rib cage and thighs a few times, he put his hand once again on the bright pink bulge of her blouse-covered breast. This time she pinched the tender skin on the back of his hand as a warning for him to stop.
"Let go, Lou," she said insistently, and pinched him again.
"I need something to hold onto to keep from falling off the couch," he said, and groped again for her invitingly rounded young breast.
"No . . . please!" she begged, and he could feel her body tensing for a struggle.
"All right, relax," he said good-naturedly as they sat up.
They broke their lover's clinch and smiled at each other, and as Lou gazed at the beautiful, nubile blonde who was his girlfriend, he felt great love and tenderness. He allowed his eyes to roam over Vicky's luscious body, admiring the way she sat gracefully with her golden hair fanning across her shoulders and making a cameo of her face, at her tiny snub nose with its bridge of cute freckles, and her wide full lips so red and glistening from their recent kissing, at her firm full breasts rising and falling with the quick rhythm of her excited heart, at her flat belly, outlined as her thrusting breasts were by the wet material of her blouse. He glanced lower then, heatedly studying the way her short pleated skirt was stretched tight around her voluptuous thighs and curvaceous loins, and the way her bare, shapely legs were tucked beneath her, her stockinged feet resting on the cushions. Christ, if she'd let him, he'd rip off her clothes right then and there and ram seven inches of long hard cock right into that soft little belly of hers! But patience was what he needed most now, patience and cunning....
Vicky Martin gazed longly into her boyfriend's smoldering eyes as she returned his look. She'd never felt happier since that first evening they'd met, when he'd asked her to dance at a discotheque. Lou knew how to make her laugh and feel good inside, and was just plain fun to be around . . even if those fiery eyes did seem sometames as if he were mentally undressing her. He was six foot, muscular with a well-developed chest and arms, and his thickly curling dark hair framed a wise and interesting face with a long straight nose and thin mouth. He was so handsome and . . . well, virile! A brief thought crossed her mind, the remembrance of how tonight his masculinity had been so boldly outlined against the tight material of his damply pressing trousers, and how big his thing had seemed! She'd never seen a man's member, not even her daddy's, though she'd looked at her younger brother's tiny, immature penis back when he'd been a baby and needed changing. But not since then-her father was a very, very modest person, and her mother was very strict about family decency.
That instantaneous thought caused Vicky to blush slightly with involuntary embarrassment. Lord! She'd better not think such wicked ideas, not around a twsnty-three-year-old, up-and-coming bowling ball salesman like Lou! If he ever guessed what was going on in her mind, he might get the wrong impression about her! Oh, she'd had her share of boyfriends back in South Carolina, and had learned all about pawing hands and determined lunges. She'd been to enough dances and movies in high school and then later secretarial school to know what necking was, and yes, she had to admit she'd been turned on at such times. She'd been sent shivering with the touch and kiss of her latest love, and had had a hard time forcing herself to say no, no you can't, you mustn't. She'd had her experiences; she wasn't naive or stupid . . . but she was determined not to be a bad girl, either!
Vicky realized, of course, why she'd remained a virgin despite the temptations she'd had to "go all the way." It had been her mother, her puritanical mother and her conservative Baptist upbringing. Her mother had instilled the quotations of St. Paul to the point where even now Vicky could recite passages concerning the devil's love of flesh and the meaning of original sin. Men were hardly better than animals at heart, and decent women could never willingly serve in the evil, filthy act of sexual intercourse. Logically, the young blonde girl knew these preachings were not only old-fashioned and outmoded, but patently false . . . but their constant reiteration over the years of her puberty had rooted them deeply in her subconscious. Love was pure; sex was sinful . . . and the two could never be joined where her basic emotions controlled her actions.
It shamed her to recall the infrequent times she'd been unable to remain perfectly chaste and pure. Her brassiere had not always stayed in place, it being pushed up or undone and her soft breasts bared to the greedy caresses of passionate boys. And then there were the wet moist kisses on them, the suckling of her tingling nipples as if she were a mother and her date was her nursing babe . . . and she had moaned and twisted with electric sensations, panting and moaning from her conflicting desires. And the fingers, the teasing silken touch along her inner thighs, the magic press against her tender pubic mound, until at last she'd forced herself to overcome the salacious thrills and put an end to the evil dangers.
And this time, far from home and her mother's lashing platitudes, she knew she was tempted more than ever to succumb. She knew that with the close and yearning body of her boyfriend Lou enveloping her, this time it was different. She wasn't sure exactly why, just that it was, and that her own quivering flesh would betray her unless she was extremely carefull There was some crazy chemistry building between them, some special ingredient which hadn't been there with the other boys she'd known. When Lou's searching hand touched her blouse and cupped around her breast, it was only with the absolute limit of her self-control that she was able to stop him from exploring her willing body further. She told herself she had to, so that he wouldn't think his respect was wasted on her. No more wine for her tonight, she promised herself; no more wine, and very soon she'd tell him to go.
But oh Lord, Lou had built a fire in her loins! Her sensitive vagina was beginning to seep a warm excited moisture down between the desire-swollen pussy lips. She leaned up and ran her fingers across the chin and neck of the young man beside her, and pressed her palms against her temples.
"I do like you, Lou," she said in a breathless, serious tone. "I like you maybe . . . maybe too much, in fact. But I . . . I'm simply not that sort of girl. Please try to understand."
"You get me all steamed up, I understand that much," he whispered, pulling her close. "We haven't been together that long, y'know, but already I feel as if I've known you for years. I'm older than you are, and gone through a hell of a lot more than you. So why should you be able to do this to me?"
Impulsively, the twenty-year-old secretary embraced him, kissing with her lips crushed against his, and they were full, warm, and responsive. She had never dreamed that kissing could make her belly surge with such delicious thrills, and she involuntarily ground her firmly fleshed buttocks down against the cushions of the couch. The sensual motions caused her tightly stretched panties to dig into her moist cunt slit and excite the nub of her tender clitoris, and she trembled, moaning again as she tried to control the first small teasers of forbidden pleasure.
Lou sensed his girlfriend's tremulous response and pressed forward his advance. He clutched Vicky tighter to him, brazenly moving his hands along her sides, guiding his fingers until they once more caressed her heaving breasts. She pressed her thighs; tightly together to cease the spasming sensations his massaging fingers were producing down there, feeling the effect of his cupping, squeezing hands all the way down to the erotic cleft between her legs.
"No, I told you no . . ." she whimpered through his ardent kisses, his tongue piercing her words, but her pleas were becoming progressively weaker. She tried to force him to stop by moving slightly away, and her short skirt hiked up higher over her rounded hips, exposing more of her youthful thighs and the white band of her thin nylon panties. She tried to pull her skirt down, her blush deepening as she realized her panties were becoming indecently wet from the warmly secreting fluids of her tingling vagina.
But the young sporting goods salesman was not to be denied, and he kept his hands on her breasts, feeling her nipples harden under the thin material of her blouse and brassiere. He figured she was finally getting too aroused to really put up a fight, and that after all the other nights of battling, tonight might be the night . . . the night he'd sink his stiff cock deep into her tight little cunt and fuck her half to death!
A warning bell rang in Vicky's distraught mind, but it was increasingly far away, dimmed by her rising passions and all the burgundy wine she'd drunk. She labored, gasping for breath, undulating her trembling buttocks down harder against the couch as she pushed the now heatedly swollen lips of her pussy against her panties in a vain attempt to put out the fire that was raging there. Lou continued to French kiss her while his thumb and forefinger rolled her distending, aching pink nipples, causing her to groan from the delightful sensations. Again she tried to pull away, bringing up her hand as she had before to pull his fingers from her breasts . . . but her hand would not obey her mind, and moved uselessly up to his hard-muscled arm instead.
"No . . . no . , ." she murmured breathlessly. "Please no..."
"Yes," Lou sighed wetly into her ear. "You love it, you know you do. You know you want me to do it...."
"It's wrong, it's so wrong...."
"Nothing that feels good can be wrong, Vicky," the young man intoned mesmerically. "You're a woman, Vicky, with a woman's body and desires ... it's time for you to be a woman, all woman.. .."
Vicky sucked in her breath from the audacity of her boyfriend's comments, not wanting to believe him and yet at the same time she did want to . . . she wanted to believe desperately. Perspiration trickled down between her full, pulsating breasts as she felt him tighten his grip upon her nipple. And then she gasped, for she felt his free hand fumbling beneath her blouse, up along the tingling bare skin of her back to the snaps of her brassiere. She squirmed harder against him, beginning to tremble violently, her mind whirling with an almost drugged passion for this handsome young man, her nerves shattering as she felt the snaps unfasten one by one. Her brassiere fell loose, and then his hand was around in front again, busy fingers now unbuttoning her blouse. In seconds, the flimsy material was spread aside, her loose brassiere pushed up, and his hungry hands caressing her nakedly revealed breasts.
Vicky knew she should demand that he leave now; knew that she'd gone too far in allowing Lou to undress her this way. But the very lewdness of exposing her breasts to him increased the prurient desires hidden deep in the virginal confines of her moistening vagina, and she could not find the strength to voice her rapidly fading fears.
As Lou squeezed and caressed her warmly responding mounds and tweaked their rigid pink nipples with one hand, his other hand once more went exploring . . . kneading the soft, resilient flesh of her inner thighs. Vicky pressed her trembling buttocks down against the cushions to avoid his touch, the hot flood between her thighs drenching the crotchband of her panties while his fingers worked toward her moistly quivering cunt crevice. He pulled her roughly to him and began kissing her with unbearable passion, and she found she could only nestle in his embrace and submit.
The virginal blonde girl was awash with a flood of sensations: Lou's hands on her naked breasts and stocking-sheathed thighs, his hot tongue splurging in and out of her mouth, the heady sound of their excited breathing. . . . She gasped from her own feeling of wantonness and the spiraling craving deep in her belly, her instincts to fight him off swiftly disappearing under the barrage of wicked sensations that were conquering her will Lou's hands kept on teasing up between her inner thighs, around the softly quivering moons of her buttocks and upward again to her thin nylon panties as his other hand shoved her miniskirt up around her waist. The thought raced through her mind that he was going to take her panties off and touch her there . . . there between her legs, and she struggled to find the energy to stop him. But her wine-filled blood boiled too heatedly, and his fingers were so insistent that she could only undulate her cringing thighs with the rising tide of arousal that was swamping her moral resolva "Lou ... oh, Lou, what are you doing . . . ?" she moaned as his lewdly roving hand finally reached the damp softness of her panties. His outstretched middle finger snaked fast beneath one elastic legband, touching a spot where no one other than herself had ever touched before. He softly stroked the wet, hair-fringed lips of her vagina with a loving tenderness, causing them to flush and swell with further excited tinglings. Vicky involuntarily raised her hips, rotating her sex-innocent cunt in helpless eagerness and spreading her trembling legs wider apart so he could delve deeper up under her panties. Soon he was taunting the moist pink flesh of her open pussy slit, parting the soft, tender folds carefully with his hand until he was able to make the first searing contact with her hardened little clitoris. Her brain screamed with joy, and she mewled out her desire as she wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's neck and trailed warm kisses across his face.
There was an odd sensation of weightlessness as the handsome young man moved both of them around on the couch, and then Vicky's passion-fogged mind caught on to what he wanted of her. She couldn't help her* self as she lifted her quivering buttocks off the cushions and allowed Lou to gently peel her passion-sodden panties down . . . down her trembling thighs and legs, and off over her bare feet. He tossed them to the carpet and then lay down beside her, beginning to tease and caress her def enselessly open loins. Something seemed to snap then in the young secretary's delirious mind, and she made one last big effort to stop before it was too late.
"No!" she gasped out frantically. "No, I told you, Lou! I'm not that kind of girl! No more, please!"
The youth's only reply was a cynical chuckle. "Sure, you are! All real women are! Stop being a prick-teaser!"
Prick-teaser! God, she'd never been talked to that way in all her life! But even as Vicky shuddered with shame and disgust, Lou's obscenity only seemed to excite her desires more. "I'm not teasing you!" she wailed. "I mean it! I'm a good girl!"
But it was as if she'd never spoken. His hands prowled mercilessly up between hen fearfully trembling thighs, brushing her velvety soft pubic hair until she thought she would die from the delicious sensations he wad generating in her loins. His fingers followed her every wild motion, until they caught and splayed the tender pink lips of her tightly clasping pussy. His mouth pressed down hard and demanding upon hers, stifling another of her pleas, and the hopelessly aroused virgin! sucked on his spearing tongue as it fluted into the hot wetness of her mouth, unable to contain herself as she writhed lewdly upon his fingers.
Abruptly she heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper, and then Lou was wriggling out of his pants and undershorts. She heard him breathe harshly, and for the first time in her life she felt a man's stiffly throbbing penis pressing into the soft flesh of her naked hip. His fingers continued to assault her tingling cunt slit, digging deeper and deeper with searing persistence. She jerked, a soul-searching moan escaping from her chest as she rolled her head from side to side, all the while grinding her naked buttocks down into the couch to escape his rapacious desires.
"No, no, no" she chanted, and the word ricocheted around the walls of her lust-fevered mind. "Please no ... no more . . " she moaned, knowing she must stop him-and stop herself-but knowing she was already past the point of no return. She wanted him, wanted him deep in her belly as much as he wanted her . . . Lord in heaven, how she wanted to be made love to!
Lou dropped his head to her breast, cupping it in one hand, and began sucking the tiny, berry-like nipple deeply into his urgent mouth. His other hand eased farther up into the hot, moist confines of her throbbing pussy flesh, taunting the tight elastic mouth and teasing her hardened clitoris. He pushed one finger forward, trying to enter her perversely welcoming cunt....
"Ohhhhhh.'' A long groan escaped her lips, and she heard herself whimpering, "You've got to stop ... I can't let you make love to me.... I can't, I can't...."
"The hell you can't," Lou groaned with obvious arousal. He was moving up over her, removing his fingers from the hotly clasping lips of her vagina and leaving her virginal little cunt on fire. His thick erection moved along the furrow of her inner thighs, dangerously close to the tender pink flesh of her pussy as he rolled atop her. Vicky could feel a warm stickiness on her flesh and wondered if he'd cum, yet his cock was still as rigid as a poker! It must be the lubricant men secrete, she thought dizzily....
"Hot damn," he crooned into her ear. "I can't wait to slide into you, baby! I can't wait another second!"
"No, Lou, no!" she mewled. "I won't let you! I won't let you ruin me!"
"Damn it, I've got to fuck you, baby!" he panted. "I've got to!"
He lunged forward, attempting to impale her tender cunt upon his lust-hardened penis, but still Vicky sought to preserve her virginity. She squeezed her legs tightly together, pleading wetly against his mouth, while he wormed the throbbing, blunt head of his cock deeply into the softness of her pussy slit.
"No, we'll be sorry if we do this! I don't . . . don't want it to happen this way! Noooo!"
The sex-minded salesman squirmed harder in his effort to penetrate her. "Who's going to be sorry? I'm not! God damn it, I'm going to be sorry if I don't! I'm about ready to pop my nuts, I tell you, and if I do, then you'll be the one who's sorry!"
Mother, Mother, save me! her tortured mind screamed, even as his every lunge sent wild sensations of sinful desire through her. His round-headed penis rubbed tantalizingly against the bud of her clitoris, her young cunt flowering open and angling upward in its own betrayal of all she knew was right and proper. In a last-ditch move of desperation, she reached down between their writhing bodies and took his lust-rigid cock in her hands, squeezing it in an anguished attempt to halt him before she capitulated and he fucked up into her with his hotly thrusting shaft.
"You bitch! You slut, you whore!" her boyfriend babbled mindlessly. "You're going to make me cum doing that! Agg! I am! Oh shit in a sock, I'm going to cummmmm!"
As she grappled with his turgidly jerking penis, he continued to pump wildly and shout obscenities. She felt his penis expand in her clutching fingers, and suddenly hot thick semen poured out from its widening tip, inundating in creamy surges the satin flesh between her legs. His surging cum blanketed her inner thighs and covered her pink, quivering cunt and golden pubic hair, trickling lewdly down the crevice of her clenching thighs.
"Oh! Oh!" the young man groaningly panted, and then with one last spurt of his semen, he collapsed on top of Vicky, forcing her down into the cushion where his heated seed was pooling. She felt his sperm's unctuous warmth spreading across the smooth, cringing flesh of her twisting buttocks, and humiliated and ashamed beyond belief, she started to cry.
"Yah, go on and bawl, you bitch," Lou snarled as he sat up. He eased off of her supine body and stood up beside the couch, his cock already beginning to deflate and grow limp. Vicky turned imploring, tear-blurred eyes toward him, and despite her loathing, she couldn't help staring at his now flaccid penis. Then, recalling how it had looked only seconds before, so long and thick and hard, almost angry-red with its lust to rape her, she squeezed her eyes shut and averted her face.
"Lou..."
"Shut up! Just shut up, you prick-teaser!" he spat down at her, grabbing his pants from the floor. "I don't know what made me want to waste my time with a little baby like you!"
"Please, don't be-" "Damned right, I am! I'm pissed off solid, bitch, and I'm going to stay that way!" He stuffed in his shirt and wrenched his belt through its buckle. "You're not going to make an ass out of Louis Sharpe and get a second chance later!"
"Lou, I'm sorry! I-" "Sure, you're sorry! I told you you'd be sorry I What the hell, a little fuck would've been nice for both of us, a sweet little party on a cold night! But no, not you! Well, go back to playing with dlls, bitch. I'm getting out of this chicken outfit!"
Still snarling with frustration and rage, the twenty-three-year-old bowling ball salesman whipped his coat from a nearby chair and stomped for the door. Yanking the door open, he stood in the threshold and glared malevolently back at the voluptuous blonde still lying naked on the couch. The contempt in his eyes was mirrored in Vicky's own mind, her head whirling with so much confusion, despair, and guilt that she didn't even care that anybody passing by in the hall outside could see her this way.
"No, Lou, no, don't go this way! Try to understand!"
"Get stuffed," he said, and slammed the door after him.
Vicky was all alone.
She lay xmmoving in utter misery, her heart tormented to its extreme. She stared down at the slowly drying cum puddled on her stall innocent pubic mound and lower belly, and the ache in her aroused and unsatisfied pussy was a sore reminder of what she'd nearly lost-her virginity-and what she'd lost in the way of a boyfriend by her refusal. I should have let 26 him ... I should have let him . . . she moaned to herself as she wept pitiously. Lou was the right one, the healthy one, and quite properly disgusted by her. She was wrong for turning the God-given pleasure of sex into something dirty and evil. Sex wasn't evil, it was good! Now there was no more Lou, no more hands and mouth and eyes or that marvelous-looking erection of his....
How Vicky wished she could respond the way a woman should! She could almost imagine the way it would have been if she'd let him make love to her; the way the two of them would look right now, coupled and enjoying each other, instead of her being all alone and despondent on the couch. Yes ... in her mind's eye Vicky could just see the way if d be, Lou straddling her thighs the way he had, kissing her while his excitedly hardened penis rubbed against her quivering, wetly aching vagina. Only this time, she wouldn't press her legs together and fight him off . . . she would welcome him, spreading her thighs eagerly so he could soothe the raging fires of passion roaring in her belly.
Lord! What am I dreaming? The naked blonde girl shuddered, shocked at her lewd thoughts. And yet, she couldn't help shutting her eyes again and conjuring up the delicious image of her boyfriend's wonderful, hard cock, 27 and she held her breath, feeling a strange series of tingling sensations lancing through her loins. She recognized what was happening inside of her now, knowing that she was starting to submit to the only form of sexual release she'd ever been able to allow herself to enjoy. As a little girl, prior to when the boys her age had sexually developed, and long before her mother had poisoned her mind to the joys of her body, Vicky had learned the delightful art of masturbation.
Her stern mother had never mentioned the practice of seU-rnanipulation, and Vicky secretly suspected her of doing it instead of having sex with Mr. Martin. But that had no bearing on the erotic thrills which she'd learned to extract from her own young flesh, and often as a budding girl she had locked herself in her room and fingered herself to spi-raling climaxes. Since then she'd read that masturbation was neither wicked nor harmful, and that many women actually receive greater satisfaction from it than from normal intercourse. She wasn't too sure about the last part, not having experienced normal intercourse yet, but the authoritative information had set her qualms at ease, and she played with her pussy whenever her frustrations became too great to control.
Now, lying nakedly quivering and exposed on the couch, she allowed the prurient dream of Lou Sharpe fucking her back into her mind. She remembered how her loins had arched upward to receive him of their own volition, and how his naked buttocks had moved so that his lusty penis could slide up and down between the swollen lips of her sensitive vagina. Yes . . . and now she imagined she was urging him on, her inner thighs and buttock muscles tightening as he slipped the blunt, bulbous head of his blood-swollen cock inside her cunt. He was prodding her hymen now, pushing gently, lovingly, and she wrapped her arms around him in passionate desire... .
God, not only could she see it in her mind, she could almost feel it as well! She opened her eyes and looked down at her breasts, seeing that their nipples were turgid and jutting straight up from their wide, pink areolas. A fluttering excitement churned in her belly, in spite of her knowing how lewd and wanton it was to let these images niter through her thoughts. She moved her hand from the side of the couch, her guilt assauged by the knowledge that she was alone with her reveries, and that dreaming was not the same as actually doing it. Her hand slid higher, and hesitantly, almost experimentally, touched her breasts as Lou had done. The contact of her fingers intensified the throbbing in her unrequited pussy, her entire being trembling slightly as she lay along the cushions.
Ah . . . Lou was on top of her naked body, his breath hot in her ear, his thick, hard penis just inside the warmly straining lips of her cunt. She was begging for him now, her vaginal mouth dilating so he could slip more of his thrusting cock into her belly ... it was slipping deeper, deeper up inside her cunt, her aching, desire-filled cunt.
A wave of remorse made Vicky halt momentarily in her fantasizing, but there was no use deluding herself. She was aroused, hotly aroused, and she was alone. If only Lou were here, she'd let him make love to her this time, for she needed release badly-desperately! It was so obscene, so immoral to continue these licentious thoughts, and yet, oh God, it was so exciting to her! She began massaging her breasts again as she slowly capitulated to her physical urgency, which was now surging like a tidal wave through her belly and loins.
"Yes, darling Lou . . . take me . . take me now . . ." She could sense his handsome, muscular body pressing upon hers once again while she whispered entreaties into his ear. Her breasts were-being flattened and the breath crushed from her lungs as his needed penis soared into her waiting vagina and burst her innocence forever. "Make love to me, Lou, make love to me...."
With a low mewl of uncontained passion, Vicky let her other hand slowly caress the smooth, flat plane of her stomach, down around the soft, blonde fleece of her pubic hair, avoiding the white pools of her boyfriend's cum to move out around her hips and buttocks. But then her fingers roamed insidiously across her thighs again, closer to where the young man had ejaculated upon her naked cunt flesh and pubic hair, and she couldn't help wondering what it would feel like to touch the male-fresh liquid. Closing her eyes once more against the guilt of her yearnings, she let her hand dabble in his warm semen, tentatively rubbing the milky fluid between her fingertips. She found the tactile sensations pleasing, creamy and warm like the finest lotion, and she dipped lower, eager for more. She opened the moistly covered lips of her vagina and parted the desire-soaked blonde hair, sliding in and finding the erect bud of her clitoris quivering with anticipation.
No . . . no, this is indecent and sinful . . . she told herself, but it's somehow so satisfying. She circled her clitoris with her fingernail, spreading the juices of Lou's cum in a loving caress, sighing between her teeth as her probing hand felt its way to her wet vagina. Her thighs widened to her squirming touch, and she pinched the tender flesh of her cunt lips and mouth, luxuriating in the sharp pain as her naked hips jerked upward off the couch. Then, legs splayed wide, she jammed her outstretched middle finger deep into her hungry pussy, pressing herself down light to the cushion as she finger-fucked herself, writhing and twisting, obscenely pressing as much of Lou's sperm into her cunt as she could. The cords of her neck stood out and the mattress squeaked as she lashed and bucked with the fever of her new-found perversion.
And as she finger-fucked herself, she dreamed of Lou's long, hard penis filling her pussy instead of her fingers. He was pumping furiously into her, his hardened cock sliding in and out while his tongue was deep, deep in her mouth, slavering in the same rapacious rhythm as his fucking. His blunt cock-head was burgeoning with his semen as he suddenly raised up his head and cried out his orgasm, and yes! Yes! His cum was flowing into her womb, filling the hotly clasping channel of her pussy with moist lubricity just as her fingers were actually doing. She heaved her own buttocks up to meet him, not wanting to lose a single drop of his precious seed. Nothing existed in her mind other than the delirious dreams of her passionate lover, her mind ana body racing for her own seething climax.
God, she was there! She was cumming! She whipped her finger wildly in her own pussy, up inside her wetly pulsing orifice, frothing the semen which covered her loins. The white-hot juices of her own orgasm gushed from around her hotly skewering fingers, mixing with the remainder of Lou's sperm and flowing down onto the couch below. She could hear herself screaming out to the empty apartment a piercing cry of joy ... and then there was utter silence.. ..
Vicky Martin stayed the way she was, with her hands pressed lewdly tight upon her breast and inside her pussy. She couldn't bring herself to let go until the last dying throbs had stilled in her loins. At last her fingers slithered wetly from her liquid-coated vagina, and she rolled limply over on her side. God, she'd never had a climax that wild before! She felt absolutely drained, truly possessed by her obscene fantasies, thoroughly driven to new depths of lewd desire! But a dream was one thing and reality another ... wasn't it?
The naked young blonde sighed and rose from the couch, her ivory-toned flesh gleaming moistly with perspiration and secretions. She felt vaguely frustrated for some inexplicable reason, as if she were upset by her perverted desire to finger Lou's drying sperm and the intensity of her orgasm which had followed. She padded barefoot into her bedroom and began searching for a nightgown to wear to bed, even considering sleeping naked for a moment before the recollection of what she'd done on the couch made her hastily abandon the immodest idea. She wondered, as she took out a clean nightie and slipped it over her head, what might happen next if she continued fondling herself with such lewd ideas spurring her on. And in the back of her mind was the frightening truth she didn't want to face- that she wouldn't be able to deny herself much longer the needed sex she'd avoided for so long.
Chapter Two
Vicky Martin could not shake the ghost of depression and trepidation which consistently haunted her from the night before. She sat at her desk toward the rear of Senator Alexander Blum's luxurious anteroom, and as she'd done so many times during the day, she paused to glance around tremulously as if her brooding oppression had an actual physical presence there. But the office was silent and empty save for herself, and all she saw were the four wood-paneled walls; the large window overlooking the mall of the Senate Office Building; the portraits of Washington, Lincoln, and the current President; the flag standing listlessly in one corner, and a number of expensively carved cabinets, chairs, desks, and tables. Then she gazed down at herself, knowing she was primly dressed from choke collar to mid-thigh in an emerald green wool dress and that she displayed no signs of her experience last night. Yet, despondently, she felt the marks were there, burned in her heart and soul like the brands of an iron.
The young blonde secretary sighed pensively and looked back at the almost completed letter in her typewriter, wanting to shake the lewd memories from her mind but finding it hopeless. Her head dwelled perversely on how she'd allowed her boyfriend Lou to undress her and slide his lust-hardened penis in between her entrapping thighs . . . and how she'd actually taken hold of his warm, rigid cock with her hands and squeezed it until it had ejaculated all over her pubic mound. And then how she'd wantonly wallowed in the obscene fantasy of him making love to her while she masturbated with his cum still covering her naked flesh. Lord, by all rights her shame should be showing as clear as the summer sun! How she wished the day would end so she could go back to her dark apartment and hide her betraying body from the world!
But almost as if fate were heaping punishment on her, this day was one of the busiest she'd had since coming to work for the Senator. The pile of papers had grown enormous since Alexander Blum had become chairman of the Subcommittee on Pornography and Violence and more so recently after he'd lambasted the President for being "soft on smut" during a nation-wide television interview. The resulting letters had been a flood, coming not only from the Senator's own constituency but from across the entire country. Church leaders were demanding staffer laws to protect their flock; moralists were decrying the decay of America;. and the Christian Ladies' Action Party, an offshoot of the Midwestern Christian Right and Purity League, was on a door-to-door fund-raising campaign. In fact, on one of the other desks in the anteroom sat one of the now-famous red, white, and blue C.L.A.P. Cans for C.R.A.P. People stopping in were expected to contribute what they could.
Vicky couldn't refuse the overtime work, and groaning to herself now, she determined to finish as fast as she could the letters Senator Blum wanted mailed tonight. She turned her head one more time from the typewriter to stare at the slit of light coming from beneath his closed door, and inwardly she prayed the door would stay that way, and he wouldn't want anything more done on top of everything else. Then, almost angrily, she resumed her work, cursing herself for procrastinating. What was done, was done, 37 and there was no use wasting any more time moaning over it.
After all, it wasn't as if she'd really let Lou make love to her! There wasn't any use torturing herself over allowing things to get out of control; she couldn't go back and live the evening differently, and the important point was to learn from her mistakes. She'd be more disciplined in the future, careful of her relations with boys and watchful of her imagination so nothing worse happened. In time she would meet a man who could love her as God intended, and she would be able to love him decently in return....
Her contemplations were interrupted by the waspish buzz of the intercom. Senator Blum was always wanting something! Reluctantly, his morose young secretary depressed the switch.
"Yes, sir?' "Vicky, would you step in my private office a moment?"
"I still have the Gunderson letter to do, sir."
"Never mind that now," came the brisk answer.
"Yes, sir."
Vicky picked up a pen and her shorthand note pad and walked to the door, opening it without knocking. This was the aide's office where four young men-none of whom appealed to her-worked as assistants to the Senator. Beyond that was another door, leading to the Senator's private secretary, a hooknosed old battle axe named Elmira Thrush. Miss Thrush patted the tight bun of her hair with long, nasty fingernails, narrowing her eyes as Vicky passed her desk. As old as the Senator, she was an invaluable storehouse of information and a veritable whirlwind of activity, devoting her life to his career. Miss Thrush was the only truly permanent part of Alexander Blum's Washington operations, his aides and secondary secretaries like Vicky changing from year to year.
Vicky tapped on the inner office door, the sanctum sanctorum of the important and powerful Senator. Miss Thrush sniffed suspiciously as Blum called out for her to enter, and Vicky almost let out a sigh of relief as she closed the door on the silent but beadily staring older woman. Senator Blum smiled disarmingly as he came out from behind his desk. He was wearing a modish chalk-stripe gray suit and a blue-and-gold tie, his hair a thick white mane perfectly in place. Lord! He was an impressive man! Vicky thought. At fifty-five he still had the shape of a man half his age, almost magnetic in his stance and bearing, his voice so melodious and stirring that some of the less respectful people around the capital called him "Old Honey-Pot."
"What is it, sir?"
"Sit down, Vicky," he said with his warm, full voice. "I have some news for you. Good news, I believe you'll find."
Curiosity raised, Vicky seated herself in the chair next to his long, walnut desk, placing her notepad on the polished wood surface, and waited for her boss to explain. He didn't speak at once but walked from behind his desk to a small closet that was built into one walL Vicky wasn't surprised when he opened the closet and brought out a bottle of bourbon; the Senator, she knew, was fond of his liquid refreshment. There was one occasion when Blum's aides were to meet him at the airport, but instead of a returning Senator, they found several cases of bourbon bought by him cut-rate during one of his many "fact-finding" junkets. And during his windier spells on the Senate floor, he often requested a paper cup of something refreshing to sooth his parched throat; the pages made certain that the cup did not contain water. But Vicky had long ago concluded that everybody has his foibles, and if Senator Blum happened to drink a wee bit too much that certainly didn't detract from the great and noble statesman he was. She was somewhat startled, however, when the Senator brought out two glasses and asked her, "Would you care to join me for a small drink?' "Well, I don't think-" "I'm sorry all I have is bourbon. I can mix it with a little water. Or do you prefer ice?"
Vicky wasn't sure how to refuse. The way the Senator was asking it sounded almost like a command, and she certainly didn't want to offend him. "A ... a small one then, with water. Please make it very light."
"Naturally," he said, beaming. "Hate to ruin the good taste of bourbon, but I understand perfectly."
Inside the closet was a tiny refrigerator from which he took a pitcher of chilled water. As he mixed her drink, the Senator glanced covertly at his unsuspecting secretary sitting in the chair. Christ, is she stacked with eatable goodies! he thought lewdly to himself, licking his lips. Almost worth giving up a month's supply of bourbon for!
He admired Vicky's young lithe figure so tightly packaged in her green dress, his eyes roving over the round, full contours of her breasts and buttocks. Ever since he'd met her back in Rock Falls while he'd been stomping the back country for votes, he'd had the lewd desire to rampage her little cunt with his hard cock. As soon as she'd gushed her admiration for him and blurted out that she'd gone to secretarial school and was thinking of moving to a big city, he knew she was to be his next secretary. Hiring the pretty daughters of local constituents was a simple but effective method of wooing grass-roots support-as well as wooing appreciative, nubile girls still fresh and innocent, the way he loved them. And the local constituents showed their enthusiasm by reelecting him every term.
And naming an airport after him.
And a highway which passed a seven-foot granite column with a heroic bust of himself.
And paying for a military housing development which bore a portion of his name.
And even though against regulations, dedicating a post office to him.
Senator Alexander Blum was one of them, after all-a local boy making good in rascally Washington; a simple farmer who never lost his homespun virtues; an honorable believer in the American Way, forever battling "fat cat government spending" and "creeping socialism." Of course, his farm was a little larger than most of his neighboring sharecroppers' lands: six thousand acres, valued at over three and a half million dollars. When Senator Blum was on the Agriculture and Forestry Committee, he worked to raise the price supports on cotton, voting for a bill that offered supports only to farmers removing a portion of then-land from cultivation. This year Senator Blum estimated he'd make over one hundred thirty thousand dollars for cotton he hadn't raised. But as he was fond of saying: "If the people are for you, nothing else matters. Yaaasss...." What the peanut farmers down home didn't know or care enough to find out was that their distinguished solon believed in being for himself. As his seniority increased he found himself on important. committees, able to help himself by merely doing nothing. His probe of Hollywood made large headlines, then died to a trickle after a major movie association contributed to his campaign fund. While on the Subcommittee on Antitrust and Monopoly examining the abuses of the drug companies, he lost interest in the investigation after a thousand-dollar donation from the largest exporting drug company in America. Now, as chairman of the Subcommittee on Pornography and Violence, his public image as a fearless and honest battler was heightened still more ... but in the back of his mind he was shaping and molding the details of Vicky Martin's seduction by using that very committee against her! He realized that as much as he wished to corrupt this fair-haired nymph, the physical conquest must follow a stage of mental submission, a lessening of barriers when she'd be lulled and caught unawares. And if he were successful in fucking his tender, naive secretary, there'd come a few other surprises for her... but only if he were careful now.
"I wanted to say, my dear," Blum smiled as he handed Vicky her drink, "how pleased I am with your work."
"Why . . . why thank you, sir." His compliment made her blush slightly with pleasure, and she sipped her drink to hide her flustered consternation.
"No no, I mean it," Blum said, sitting back down behind his desk. "You've proven to be alert, competent, and reliable, and believe me, Vicky, here in Washington with all the pressures that are on me a secretary like you is worth her weight in gold. Yaass."
"I... I only do what I can, sir."
"Well, I believe you can do more-in the sense that we can use your talents to a greater advantage, that is," he added hastily. "A most interesting and challenging position has opened up, my dear, and I want you to fill it."
"You ... you dor' Vicky's mouth felt dry and parched, and her heart was hammering in her chest. Again she took a swallow of her bourbon and water, almost without realizing what she was doing. "If I can be of any service; I mean I want to stay in Washington and..."
Senator Blum waved his hand, and she closed her babbling mouth. He chuckled in a fatherly way then, running a corded hand through his long white hair, and said to her, "To be truthful, child, I opened up the position myself. You see, there is simply too much work attached to my new subcommittee, and I'm finding that as efficient as you and Miss Thrush are, we're falling behind. I can always get typists from the office pool, but that only raises other problems. They don't know my office routine or my personal habits, and they're only temporary at best. Also, it really isn't fair to use them other than as typists, and what is required is more of a 'girl Friday/ imaginative and dedicated. Moreover, there's the delicate problem of material...."
Vicky shook her head, still feeling dizzily excited by what the Senator was telling her. And yet he was being terrifically vague, and she didn't quite grasp the full meaning behind his pause after the word "material." She cleared her throat and said, "I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid I still don't understand."
"Well, my dear, to put it bluntly, I want to promote you to being my special assistant. Assistant to the Chairman of the Subcommittee on Pornography and Violence. How does that sound?"
"Oh Senator Blum!" Vicky gasped in delight "There'll be a new civil service rating, of course, and a raise in pay," he continued. "I'll hire another girl for your job in the anteroom, and you can start your new duties immediately. Are you interested?"
"Am I! I'm... I'm overwhelmed!"
"It's a big step for you my child, a big step, yaaasss. But-" and here the Senator hesitated again, taking a long pull on his glass of straight bourbon-"but there's the matter of the material."
"You mean the ... the .. . ?"
"That's right, the pornography. As chairman, much of the smut and filth being peddled openly is brought to my personal attention by concerned lawmen and outraged parents throughout this great and glorious land of ours. Yaaasss. As my assistant, you may become ah . . . exposed to some of it and I don't want that to offend you. If you feel it might," he warned with a paternal frown, "if you have the slightest doubt as to your ability to handle such lewdness and immorality with the objectivity necessary to do your job then please tell me now."
Vicky sat in silence for a moment, not sure how to respond. She knew that the Senator had only her interests at heart and that he was warning her for her own good. And yet she felt slightly rankled, as if he were lecturing a little girl too young to see a "naughty" picture. The bourbon she'd consumed swirled through her bloodstream, giving her courage, and taking a deep breath, she replied, "Well, I'm old enough to see X-rated films if I want, sir, and I've taken sex education courses in school. I think you'll find me harder to shock than you might suppose."
Senator Blum smiled over the rim of his glass. "Yasss, I believe you'll work out just fine. Young ladies your age are far better equipped to face the ah . . . facts of life than people of my era. Then may I assume you'll accept the position?"
"Yes, oh yes!" the blonde girl said with fervency and then added saucily, "Whatever I may read, see or hear, sir, might disturb my sense of taste. But not my morals."
"Well, lefs hope so, my dear," came the good-natured rejoinder.
For a few minutes Vicky and the Senator continued drinking their bourbons, Blum filled with a lewd satisfaction he was hard pressed to disguise, and his new assistant determined to show she was brave enough for anything. She wasn't a baby any longer, and she felt goaded by the remembrance of Lou's words when he'd walked out on her. She was twenty years old and considered herself quite mature, and just because she was a virgin didn't mean she was angelically innocent! Last night's horrible mess was proof enough of that!
Nevertheless, she hadn't ever seen one of those X-rated films, and she couldn't help wondering if they were as bad as she'd heard. They showed nudity and two people making love, but surely they couldn't show everything-or did they? And what about all the pictures and photographs and books she'd have to sift through for Senator Blum? Well, nothing could possibly be as scandalous and prurient as her own imaginings when she was alone and masturbating! And yet . . . a shiver of hesitation ran up her spine in spite of the excitement over her promotion. She began to doubt that she should have been so eager to accept, considering that she didn't know the extent or nature of the obscenities she'd be forced to deal with. But it was too late now; she'd given Senator Blum her answer, and she wasn't about to back down. Then she would look childish! Lord, Mother would have a heart attack if she knew what I'll be doing in the future ...!
"Now, as I said, this begins immediately," Senator Blum told her seriously. "I was hoping . . . but no, perhaps you're too busy with your own private affairs."
"These days I'm quite free," Vicky replied, swallowing the thought that after last night she was free of Lou Sharpe whether she liked it or not. "Yes, quite free indeed, sir."
"Good, good. Then perhaps tonight... ?"
"Tonight? Oh, but-" "Since you have nothing planned," the wily old politician said suavely. He leaned forward still more, looking directly into her eyes, his words poisoned honey, "A quick dinner someplace, and then I can begin introducing you to what will be required in your new and I hope permanent position. We must get it straight between us as soon as possible, my child." About seven inches of straight, hard cock between us, that is!
Confusion reigned in Vicky's mind. She still felt distraught and morbid over what she'd done the previous night, and the desire to be alone tonight and calm her ragged nerves remained strong in her mind. But Senator Blum had just dropped a bombshell in her lap, and her thoughts were dazed with its explosive implications. He was offering her a chance for a real career, an advancement into importance and influence which would leave her routine job of typing far behind. Intuitively the young girl knew that right now was a crucial test, and that the Senator was weighing her reactions carefully to see if his trust and faith in her were well-founded.
Dinner with Senator Blum, "and then . . ." Well, that part didn't worry her too much. She knew it was perfectly proper nowadays for a girl of her age to be publically squired by a bachelor of his years, her mother and Rock Falls notwithstanding. Moreover, Senator Blum had always been the very soul of gentlemanly discretion, so she doubted anything immodest would happen when they were alone. And yet there was the matter of this material, this pornography, which was strange and unknown to her, adding a pervading aura of something wrong, something almost deliciously wrong ... as if she were skirting danger and secretly relishing her brush with fate.
Vicky sipped the last of her bourbon, balancing the pros and cons quickly in her mind. Then she set the empty glass down on his desk and told the Senator, "Yes, sir. I'd love to have dinner with you."
"Excellent!" Blum smiled. "I'm sure you'll discover this to be the start of a long and ah . . . meaningful relationship. Yaaass. We won't leave here for another couple of hours, though, and I'm sure you'll want to finish the work you have... ?"
"Yes, yes, indeed," Vicky replied, sensing the signal that her interview was over. She rose, scooped up her pad and pencil, and headed for the door. With her hand on the knob she paused, glancing over her shoulder to add, "And thank you, Senator. Thank you very much."
"Ah, don't thank me yet, child. Don't thank me until you find out exactly what your position will entail!" Spread-legged and whimpering to be fucked, thafs what it'll entail, Senator Blum thought salaciously as he watched his secretary's pert rear end undulate out of the office. Writhing and panting and naked beneath me-thaf s what her new position will be after tonight...!
Pleased to the point of humming tunelessly to himself, he keyed his intercom again and spoke into it "Miss Thrush?"
His private and most personal secretary responded immediately in her arched, almost imperious voice. "Sir?"
"Get me Congressman McHugh, will you? I believe hell be over at the Rayburn House Office Building now; if not, try his home number. I must reach him at once."
"Yes, sir."
The intercom went dead, and for a few minutes Senator Blum waited silently while Miss Thrush telephoned over to where the Representatives had their offices. Jerome K. McHugh, geriatric Representative from Oklahoma, had been owed a favor ever since he had supported Blum in a Joint House session. McHugh had hinted how he wished to be repaid after Blum had formed his Subcommittee on Pornography and Violence, and as enigmatic as he'd been, Blum had caught the message loud and clear. Long before McHugh had won his reputation as the guardian of the oil industry, he was notorious around Washington as a swinger, and whereas Blum was nicknamed "Old Honey-Pot," McHugh was termed "Hot-Pants."
Blum thought. Well, finally Tve got just the ticket to even the score, Blum thought with wicked relish. That oV fucker will jump at this like a blue-tick hound dog after a treed coon . . . and I won't blame him at all! Have to be careful what I say on the phone, though; never can tell these days about bugs* Terrible state of affairs when you don't know who to trust. Oughta be a law,. . .
The telephone beside his elbow jingled, and Senator Blum snatched up the receiver. "Hello, Jerome? Blum here."
"Afternoon, Alexander," came the cracked, aging voice of the sixty-nine-year-old Representative. "That buzzard of yours said it was important" "It is. Listen, you remember that ah . . . matter we were discussing in the cloakroom last Tuesday? After the joint meeting?"
"The . . . ? Oh, yes! Yes, now that you mention it, I do."
"I have what you want, Jerome, nicely packaged and ready for delivery. Interested?"
"Always. Tell me more, Alexander."
Blum smiled cynically, almost able to hear McHugh drooling with excitement on the mouthpiece. "Well, it looks as if I'll have to do the unwrapping just to check the contents, if you get what I mean. But after that if s all yours."
"Huh. I don't think there's anything you can do to harm the goods." McHugh cackled at his insulting dig, then added, "The important thing is if they're up to snuff. Quality merchandise only, Alexander, new and unused."
"Check for yourself, you old codger," Blum retorted good-naturedly. "That young blonde secretary of mine, the new one I brought up from home by the name of Vicky Martin? Well, she's the one delivering tonight at my apartment. Can you make it?"
"Can I-? Christ, does a bear shit in the woods? I'll be there. What time?"
"You arrive around eight-thirty. We won't be there yet, not until about nine. I suppose, but I'll give instructions to the doorman of the building to let you in. Now listen carefully. Tip the doorman heavily and instruct him not to tell me that you're waiting in my apartment; well want the package to be a surprise. Then go into my bedroom and through my right-hand closet door."
"You want me to wait in your closet? You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to hunch down among your clothes like some half-witted lover!"
"Hush up, Jerome! Jesus, these phones ., .! You'll see what I mean when you get there, and I do mean see."
McHugh paused for a moment, reflecting on the Senator's obscure meaning. He'd been up to that apartment before and recalled how the living room had looked, the only part he'd really seen. See . . . see . . . oh-ho! So that was it! There'd been a large mirror on one wall, the wall which backed the bedroom! "I understand crystal clear," he said at last, gleefully. "Yes, I'm mirroring your thoughts, Alexander."
"Good, good, I was sure you would. Yaass. Now, about this new bill to curb potato blight. I was wondering..."
Senator Blum and Representative McHugh conversed on general political topics for a few more minutes, the important reason for the call now completed. Finally Blum rang off and got up to pour himself another bourbon. The evilly erotic plan he'd formed stirred his blood and made his penis itch with longing. He felt it throb in his trousers with anticipation. By God, he'd really done one this time! He gloated to himself as he tipped the bottle. It calls for a celebration-and he added an extra couple of fingers of the bonded whiskey to his glass before returning to his desk.
Meanwhile, Representative McHugh settled back in his leather swivel chair, thinking over Senator Blum's phone call. His wrinkled old scrotum fairly ached from the proposition he'd just received, for he had seen Vicky Martin around the halls and had always admired her tight-assed, full-breasted nubility. Damnation! So Blum was going to offer his own secretary's soft young cunt in payment for that vote last week, was he? Tit for tat, so to speak . . . and wild horses couldn't keep him, McHugh, from collecting that luscious, gift-wrapped present!
Yet McHugh was too crafty a politician not to know the worth of favors and the strings attached to this one. Wrinkled-faced, bald, and slightly stooped, he pushed the upper plate of his false teeth tighter against his mouth with one liver-spotted hand-a habit of his whenever he contemplated angles-and pondered the situation. Blum was definitely overpaying that vote. How much did the Senator figure the extra bonus was worth and how much did he hope to extract in the future? That he eventually would was no question to McHugh; Blum was one man who always got his pound of flesh.
But McHugh was no slouch when it came to favors, either. No politician was and lasted long in Washington. McHugh had long ago learned that favors grease the wheels, and behind his facade as a relentless and impartial legislator lurked a lawyer who remembered his lessons well. His law firm back in Texas listed four of the largest oil corporations in America, according to the Martindale-Hubbard directory. Besides law fees, the oil interests "favored" him with campaign contributions, stock tips, and even cash under the counter. In return, McHugh did his damndest to legislate tax loopholes which saved oilmen billions a year and fought to widen the depletion allowances despite the fact that with the energy crisis such policy was unsound and rigorous conservation should be enacted.
He, like Senator Blum, was a great champion of special interest groups which feathered his nest. And he, even more than Blum, had un- challenged power which he wielded with great despotic efficiency, and because of the "Old Boy's" code of gentlemanly silence and the archiac seniority system, the chances were that his chicanery would never be uncovered. McHugh was not the oldest member of the House, but he was a dramatic example of how longevity alone can elevate a man of incompetence and corruption to a place of authority.
So McHugh sat back and fingered his false teeth and considered just how much this evening with Blum was going to cost him. Neither moral nor legal troubles entered his mind. Because he hadn't been born yesterday, most of his preoccupation centered around how to turn things around and make a gain, even at the expense of pretty Vicky Martin. Let's see, he figured. I have this problem with the Dry Hole group....
Dry Hole was the informal name given to a casual club of prominent oil lobbyists of which naturally McHugh was a charter member.
When Senator Blum had phoned, he'd been worrying what to do about the meeting which was scheduled tomorrow night at the Dan-forth Hotel banquet room, for he knew he was in for a roasting by the lobbyists after recently having lost the vote on a crucial oil import quota amendment. It wouldn't do any good to tell them facts; they weren't paying him for facts but for performance. He'd have to take their minds off it, and it would take something spectacular to do that.
What could he do at this short notice ... ?
Suddenly McHugh jerked upright in his chair, snapping his fingers, a half-cruel smirk crossing his weathered face. Of course! His wily mind immediately saw a perfect way of changing the debt he'd incur tonight into a fat profit! He groped for the intercom switch, buzzing his own private secretary, the counterpart of Blum's Miss Thrush.
"Leona! Leona, are you there? I want you to phone a photo supply store, Leona, and order some film for my 35 mm camera I have in here."
"The expensive one which came from Christian Oil?"
"That's the one. It has to be special film, color, good for shots when there isn't much light. Such as at night when I can't use the strobe attachment. And I want the film 3m- . mediately."
"How many rolls?"
"I don't know. One or two. No , . . make it three, just in case. But I must have it before eight-thirty, Leona. I must have it!"
"Yes, sir. I'll do what I can, sir!"
"I don't care what you do-just get the film!"
Representative McHugh leaned back in the chair, propping his feet on the desk with gloating satisfaction. Alexander Blum, bless his lecherous hide! He snickered quietly to himself. The Senator didn't know it-and wasn't going to find out, either-but he'd become an answer to a prayer. And the shape of the prayer's answer was that hot-cunted blonde angel, Vicky Martin....
Chapter Three
It was late evening now, and darkness had fallen across the Eastern seaboard. This tame last night, young Vicky Martin had been eating pizza in a checker-clothed hideaway, cozy with Lou Sharpe while the wind and rain howled outside. Now the wind was still blowing, more raw and biting than ever since the rain had stopped and the temperature had fallen, and Vicky was in the ornate bathroom of Senator Blum's luxurious penthouse, just across the river in Arlington.
She'd used the toilet and washed her hands, and at the moment was standing before the marble basin, looking in the gilt-framed mirror while she brushed her blonde hair. Her reflection wavered unsteadily, and she placed one hand on the basin to brace herself. Lord, she was actually drunk! She should never have accepted all those gin-and-tonics before dinner, and the Irish coffee afterwards, but it was too late to cry about it now. She'd just have to be extra careful now, so that Senator Blum didn't think he'd chosen a silly, giggling lush for his new assistant!
She placed her brush back into her purse, then stood still for a moment to take a deep breath and collect her giddy senses. The mirror's image showed her slender body, still dressed in her workaday green dress. The rounded peaks of her nubile breasts stood out defiantly and she could almost see the taut curve of her buttocks where they flowed gracefully into her firm legs, the hemline of her dress having hiked up slightly when she'd raised her arms to brush her hair. Modestly, she smoothed it back down, still feeling nervous that she hadn't been able to rush home and change into more formal, social attire. But the Senator had insisted she go "as is," mentioning table reservations for a particular hour and the fact that La Goelette was very dark and nobody would be inquisitive anyway.
La Goelette had indeed been dark, and the secluded nook with its private table had been almost obsidian. The waiter, decked out in magnificent garb, had held a miniature torch over her while Vicky read the menu-a menu, by the way, which had no prices listed beside the dishes. It was that kind of restaurant, and the food was worth a gourmet's pilgrimage. After the before-dinner drinks had melted her nervousness and she relaxed a bit, she allowed Senator Blum to order escargots (she'd never tried snails before, and found them delicious), salad, and a main course she couldn't identify-it appeared on her plate in thin, dark-red slices suggesting beef, but not looking like anything she'd ever seen before. It was, the Senator explained, fillet of red meat from a plump, year-old duck, completely free of fat, browned, and braised like beef. There were the usual side dishes, then dessert (which she couldn't eat, she felt so stuffed), and the Irish coffee. Because they were in a French restaurant, it came with cognac in it, flaming when presented, then doused and topped with freshly whipped cream.
For all the food she'd eaten, the unwary secretary consumed enough assorted liquor to fill a hollow leg . . . but with her, if d traveled in the opposite direction, going straight up to her head. Still, the alcohol didn't make her sick as it often did, but soothed her tenseness and let her enjoy the feast immensely.
Senator Blum was witty and could converse artfully on a dozen different subjects, and even his slightly risque jokes didn't offend her, but set her laughing delightedly. Away from the pressures of his office, the older man was proving to be urbane and sophisticated, a rapport developing between them very easily. In the taxi afterward, riding to his penthouse apartment, Vicky had to admit she was extremely pleased she'd decided to go along with him tonight. It wouldn't have been healthy to mope around all by herself, becoming more depressed as if her apartment were a tomb. And now, opening the door of the bathroom and stepping into the hall, she reaffirmed that thought, deciding she'd no longer act like an old wet blanket.
Somewhat erratically, she walked back into the living room. It was very wide, and like.the Senator's office, thickly carpeted. There was a glass table with bent chrome legs; a modernistic lamp with three bulbs coming from a single stalk like some flexible-tubing Hydra; a Dali and a Picasso, possibly originals, and a Moore sculpture; low, wide couches and chairs in various fabrics and leathers, and functional Scandinavian cabinetry with lines accentuating their hardwood grains.
Hanging on the inner wall and facing the main cluster of furniture was the room's most dominant feature. It was a huge mirror which, because of its large reflection, seemed to double the room's dimensions. Its thick, massive frame was gilt like the one in the bathroom, but far more ostentatious, with ringlets of rosebuds and vines interwoven with tiny naked cherubs that had outspread wings. The naive young secretary had no way of suspecting that this magnificent work of art was in fact the key to her ultimate ruin. There was no way of telling that the mirror was actually fashioned of two-way glass, and that sitting behind it was the lascivious-eyed countenance of Representative McHugh.
McHugh had made a point of arriving on schedule and, following directions, had cautioned the doorman not to say anything to Blum that might tip the girl off. Then he'd slipped inside the right-hand closet door, and discovered that he was in a small, dark enclosure containing a chair, table, coat hooks, and from his side of things, a picture window into the living room. While he'd been waiting for the Senator and his secretary to make their appearance, the Representative had loaded his expensive camera with the special night film his secretary had purchased, and placed the camera ready on the table. Then he'd swiftly undressed, and had seated himself before the glass, afraid to even touch his quivering, half-erect penis for fear it would ejaculate before the action started. He'd squirmed impatiently, the minutes passing like centuries before the others arrived.
Now, with Vicky back in the living room, McHugh leaned forward in his chair, busily engrossed in her every move. He moistened his lips and pressed his false plate more firmly in his open mouth, trying to stop the heavy panting of his breath. He stared at the innocent and lust-inciting figure of the blonde girl as she walked toward the mirror, and he felt his elderly cock jerk upward into full throbbing rigidity with lewd anticipation. He kept his bulging eyes leveled on her sexy young body while she paused to pat a stray wisp of hair back in place and then turn away from her reflected image, lewdly enjoying the notion that she didn't know he was able to watch her.
Senator Blum was on the other side of the room, standing near the draped windows that overlooked his roof patio and the city lights beyond. He was casually mixing drinks at a long, low credenza, acting as if he'd no knowledge that McHugh was in his special closet, wheezing with burgeoning desire. I hope the old fart goes bananas in there, he thought perversely as he turned to Vicky. His ruggedly mature face remained bland and virtuous as he said: "If it were warm, my dear, we could go outside and admire the stars. Well, perhaps another time for that. Since the weather isn't cooperating, I thought it would be more ah ... comfortable with the curtains shut."
"I agree," Vicky said. "Just looking at the coldness would make me want to shiver."
"This'll warm you up," the older politician replied, putting the final touches on two tall, well-filled glasses. "A specialty of mine during the winter months. I call them my 'Uncles,' because that's what makes anti-freeze! Yaasss."
Vicky groaned audibly at his atrocious pun. "No, please, sir, I've had too much to drink already."
"Nonsense, my dear," Senator Blum retorted cheerfully. "Not after I've gone to all this trouble for you. Now you sit right down there on the couch next to your purse, and we'll get to work in just a moment You like the music I put on?"
"The-?" Then Vicky heard the wafting strains of Percy Faith coming from a set of quadraphonic speakers, and as she sat down on the couch as directed, she said: "Yes, very much. I recognize the tune from a movie I once saw. 'Walk On the Wild Side,' I believe."
"That's right." The Senator ambled over with the drinks, his face lit with an infectious grin as he set them down on the able in front of her. "It's my favorite, after Theme From Summer Place/ Wait a minute-I have to get a few things before we can begin your, ah, lessons."
Vicky watched the white-haired man walk toward a well-stocked bookcase, and automatically she reached forward and picked up her mixed drink, her mind fuddled and lulled by all the liquor which had gone before. Because the rear of the couch was at a slant and too far back for her to comfortably sit up against, she removed her shoes and tucked her legs beneath her. It was an impulsive move, but again, the alcohol had relaxed her so she did it almost without thinking, and the Senator only smiled encouragingly as he glanced her way.
"Cry 'Uncle' yet, my dear?" he said, indicating her untouched drink. His second bad joke prompted her to taste the concoction, and she found it as warming as promised, almost velvety and without the heavy alcohol tartness she normally avoided. She was glad she didn't have to pretend to like the specialty, and she complimented him genuinely on it as he took some small pamphlets from the shelves and came back to her.
Seating himself close to her, Senator Blum turned momentarily serious, his expression one of concern. "Now, Vicky, I told you this afternoon that I can't use a girl who is ah . . . easily upset. You promised me you're not, and I believe you."
His cautionary words caused a little tingle to start in her loins. It was an ambivalent emotion, the combination of apprehension and anticipation which doing something forbidden gives, and she eyed the pamphlets in his hand, murmuring: "Th-that's right, sir. I mean it, too."
"Well, I don't like beating around the bush," he said, placing the pamphlets in her lap. "Plunge right in, fat in the fire, all that sort of thing. These are samples of exactly what I'm investigating-most avidly, I might add-and are part of a well-known series of booklets published as Climax Illustrated. Thousands of men and women buy and read these all over the United States today, and I believe they're as good as any to ah ... introduce you to the field. Yaass."
The booklets were the size and shape of a Reader's Digest, with a cover of a saucily drawn girl winking, the title, series number, and the warning: Adults Only. Vicky couldn't help staring at the cover, provoked by the thought of what luridness might be inside. Her fingers touched the paper cover, her throat suddenly so dry as to feel parched. "You mean that these are... are... ?"
"Exactly, my dear," Senator Blum said smugly. "Why, you have no idea the number of young ladies your age who have whole collections of Climax Illustrated-girls who are so brazen that they don't wear brassieres or even panties, but go around almost naked with the very thinnest of dresses."
"They . . . do?" Vicky took a sip of her drink then, this lewd information forging am evil image in her mind. Lord! To be seen that way, without even panties! But . . . why not? It... it even sounded like it might be fun! Her heart pounded faster as she put the drink down and started to open the top booklet, and then she saw the first picture, and her eyes bulged at the lascivious sight.
"Why... why, this is obscene!"
"The devil's art," Senator Blum agreed, nodding.
The top picture was in full four-color, and obviously taken by a highly skilled photographer. Two people were on a bed: one a handsome, muscular man, and the other a curvaceous brunette no older than Vicky. They were both naked, the man sitting up on his knees over the brunette, and the girl lying on her back with her legs splayed in full view of the camera. The photo showed her desire-moistened vagina, and she had the middle finger of one hand dipping into her lewdly open cunt slit as if she were masturbating for her boyfriend, oblivious of the seeing lens.
Is that how I looked last night on my couch? Vicky asked herself in sudden shock. If Lou had returned would he have seen me the way this man is seeing this girl? And God! Did Lou look this way when he was naked and hovering over me? What a long, hard penis the man has! Was Lou's as large and thick? Oh no. . what am I thinking!
"Turn the page, Vicky." Senator Blum leered. "Turn the page and see what happens. It's like a little story."
"No . . ." The blonde girl choked unconsciously, but her fingers turned the page anyway. Her drunken mind reeled under the double impact of two pictures spread side-by-side to form one long erotic portrait.
The brunette girl was still splayed wantonly on the bed, the left-hand portion almost a close-up of the swollen pink lips of her obscenely displayed pussy. Her curling finger was buried in the warm, wet flesh of her vaginal crevice, plunging deeply up inside the clasping walls of her cunt while her firm white buttocks arched greedily upward for more self-impalement. Squatting over her taut belly was the naked young man, legs on either side, his blood-thick erection in full focus and showing the ridges and veins and the long tube on the underside from where his sperm would soon shoot. Its pulsating, blunt head was burried in the valley between her lush, melon-sized breasts, his hands clutching both tender mounds and squeezing them around his sandwiched cock. His buttocks were clenched, and by the glazed expression of sheer lust on his face, it was evident to Vicky that he was using the brunette's sensitive breasts to masturbate himself.
Vicky gasped at the sheer depravity of the photo, and she shook her head in an attempt to clear her brain, her mind conjuring -up the thought of how she would look fingering herself while a man played with her breasts in order to cum. But her drunken body traitorously refused to deny the sensual qualities of the booklet. She felt a small surge of emphatic pleasure in her belly and a little lower in her vagina, and sensed her panty-covered pubic mound quivering slightly with lewd projections of the pictures.
"There's still more, my dear," Senator Blum said in a low, insinuating tone. "Turn the page...."
"Well, I..."
"You said you wouldn't be shocked, Vicky. Certainly you're not, are you? Certainly you haven't been fooling me."
There was a creeping warmth in his voice, and Vicky knew she was blushing, and that made her all the more embarrassed. Momentarily speechless, she shook her head to indicate she wasn't a prude and could be shown pictures like these, and then took a long drink from her glass, hoping it would still the peculiar tingling beginning deep within her loins. Her employer leaned closer and turned the page for her, and Vicky shuddered involuntarily from what she now saw.
The burgeoning cock was now spewing out its white, cream-like semen in erratic streams, and the naked brunette was receiving the full force of it. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was curled in a blissful smile as the man ejaculated from the tunnel of her breasts, the photo missing nothing: the tiny hole at the end of his penis spitting out its sperm, the thick splashes around her nose and over her cheeks, the lazy dribblings down her eyelids. The girl was being inundated with fresh, virile cum, and she was obviously reveling in it, glorying in it-the way I gloried in Lou's semen while I masturbated last night! This thought seered through Vicky like a lightning bolt, torturing her further as prurient thrills emanated stronger and stronger from her thighs and breasts, deepening the shameful-ness of her own responding emotions.
"They're supposed to make people excited," Senator Blum said in a strangled voice, and when Vicky turned to look at him, she saw that his eyes were wide and glittering, glued to the pictures with a wild intensity. "Damned hot! Do they excite you, Vicky? Do they?"
The aroused young secretary opened her mouth and then snapped it shut, afraid to answer him, afraid to admit the truth even to herself. She was dizzy from the strong drinks and disturbed by the wicked churnings in her body, prickles of unwanted arousal stirring in her blood and marrow.
"Do they?" Senator Blum persisted breathlessly. "Do they excite you, my child, just looking at them?"
"Well, I... I ..." She swallowed thickly, still unable to form her denial. "I can see why you don't like them, sir," she managed to say weakly, thinking in terms of his committee's investigations. "They're not right. They're... unnatural!"
"Are they?" he said in an odd tone of voice. "I sometimes wonder, my dear, I sometimes wonder." The white-haired politician cast the first booklet aside, letting it fall to the floor in his haste to open the next one for Vicky's horrified study. "Look at these now, and tell me if you still think that."
Vicky obeyed unquestioningly, unable to avert her eyes from the second series in her lap. The photos showed another bedroom and a different bed, the base of which was pointed directly at the camera. Vicky sucked in her breath as she saw another girl about her age, this one only slightly darker blonde than she, spread-legged on the covers, absolutely naked and unashamed. Kneeling between the up-tilted legs was a young man of perhaps eighteen, from whose hairless loins jutted a stiffened, slender penis much smaller than the penis of the man in the first book, a tautly round scrotum dangling below its youthful base. His immature face was pressed to the older girl's flesh, his lips and tongue sucking around one up-thrusting breast in eager delight. The blonde seductress was writhing beneath the adolescent laving, her hands tangled tightly in his hair and pulling his mouth further upon her pinkly hardened nipple.
Vicky leaned forward, almost dropping her drink, trying to tear her gaze from the picture. Her innocent mind rebelled-to view a boy no older than her little brother still back in Rock Falls, toying with the blatantly exposed body of a girl her own age was almost incestual in its lewdness! 74 The mixture of different drinks bubbled through her veins, killing the shocked blonde's conscience and sweeping away the initial revulsion as Senator Blum turned the page again. "It seems to me I remember you mentioning you had a brother," he whispered to her with a devilish smile. "A little brother about seventeen or eighteen?"
"Y-yes, sir," Vickey answered thickly. She knew she should avert her eyes in disgust and abhorrence, but she couldn't. She had to look, the obscene photos mesmerizing her. "H-his name is Robby and he ... he just turned eighteen last month."
"Does he look like this boy?" the older man asked insidiously.
"Hobby's a little thinner, and his hair isn't as curly. B-but yes, sir. They're quite . . . quite a lot alike."
"When they're naked, Vicky? When Robby is naked, does he look like this boy, his young penis about the same size when he's excited?"
Vicky couldn't help the moan which welled up in her constricted throat. "Oh please, sir! D-don't say things like that! I've never seen Robby naked and with an erection!"
"Never... ?"
"H-hardly ever," she blurted, shame-faced and confused. "B-but only when he was a baby and I had to change him, when it couldn't be helped! Not when ... when ..." "Of course, my dear, of course," Senator Blum replied in a soothing voice, syrupy with false understanding. "And of course a good girl like you never ever thought of your brother this way, the way this boy is acting in the pictures."
"Oh God, oh God, no!" she gasped. "No! How sick!"
Yet if the twenty-year-old blonde had never dreamed of her brother naked and aroused in bed with her, the sight of the lewd booklet and Senator Blum's obscenely implied suggestions caused her to think of it now. The other photos showed the naked youngster working his older "sister" to a fevered pitch, her mouth open in ecstatic delight while his beardless face hovered over her rippling belly, inches from the pale, curling hair of her pubic mound. There was a snap of his slim fingers pressing down on the flat plane of her stomach while his thumbs lay against the fleshy, hairlined lips of her cunt . . . followed by another depicting his hands parting the soft curls and exposing the moist red slit of the girl's welcoming vagina. The dainty pink bud of her clitoris was clearly visible just above the stretched elastic opening of her pussy . . . and the next page showed the boy's wet tongue snaking out to flick teasingly at the nakedly exposed flesh around it.
The blonde in the booklet, too similar to Vicky for the virgin secretary to deny, was photographed next in her delirious rapture. Her naked, lithe form was depicted jerking as if struck by electrical currents, and her legs were pictured clamped tightly around his head, her soft inner thighs imprisoning his ears in a vise-like grip. Senator Blum kept turning the pages and lecherously pointing out the obscene details, while Vicky's mind whirled drunkenly, mystically connecting herself with the pictures. A warm, heavy pulse of sexual arousal started throbbing unwantedly down between her own innocent thighs, and she felt the panty-enclosed crevice of her cunt twitching with spontaneous excitement. She squeezed her buttocks and legs together, determined to force the involuntary stimulation from burning her flesh any further.
"N-no more, sir," she whimpered. "I don't want to see any more. They're worse than the first ones. They're like animals, doing that together!"
"Doing what?" Senator Blum asked unexpectedly, a bemused expression crossing his face as he heard his secretary's consternation.
"Well . . . well, you know," Vicky stuttered miserably.
"Cunnilingus is its proper name," he said softly. "But in your new position, you'll hear lots of other, more earthy names given to it." Alexander Blum shifted closer to his visibly disturbed secretary, casually placing one arm-behind her while he talked. "You're old enough and brave enough to discuss these things like an adult ... and as you intimated in my office, Vicky, you're educated in the ways of the world. I don't believe any girl as pretty as you, and with the number of boyfriends I'm sure you've had, could tell me she hasn't been excited sexually."
Vicky trembled slightly as she felt the heat of Senator Blum's nearness, and took another eager swallow of the drink to bolster her fading courage. "N-no, sir," she heard herself admit. "I ... I've been excited. I'm not frigid."
"Naturally you're not, my pet. You're a very warm and sensuous young woman. So you know as well as I do that when in the throes of passion, there are things you want to do which you'd never consider any other time. Like this," he said softly, tapping the picture with one fingernail. 'Haven't you ever desired to have your cunt sucked?"
"Why-!" His crude use of words burned her ears, and she crimsoned several shades as she tried to control her obvious embarrassment. When he said there was other, more earthy slang for cunnilingus, he wasn't joking! But it was just a test of his-it was all a test to see if she could take being his assistant- and she decided to ignore his blunt obscenities. "Why, no I haven't. I ... I don't think any self-respecting woman would allow a man to... to love her that way!"
"Don't be too sure, my dear. You're in for a surprise at what people-normal people-do and say. If I haven't learned anything else in my years as Senator, I've learned that sex is a very strong emotion. The next booklet has even a better example of what I mean."
The second Climax Illustrated was discarded and the third was opened, Blum's thick fingers plucking at the cover while Vicky sat afraid and yet curious as to what new perversion it might contain. "Oh!" she breathed when she caught her first glimpse of the new series. "Oh, I don't believe it!"
"Seeing is believing," the Senator retorted, "and this time you're seeing fellatio!"
It was a woman's face, her glistening, red-lipsticked mouth tightly circling a man's hardened penis. Vicky finished the last of her drink in a single large gulp, feeling some of her composure returning as the warm liquid hit her stomach, the air feeling as if knocked from her lungs by the lewdness of the older couple in the photos. She'd heard whispered secrets of women who did this to men, but she'd never expected to actually view anyone performing it!
"You see what can happen," Senator Blum rhapsodized. "Look at their faces, Vicky, especially the woman's. See how she's enjoying his thick hard cock in her mouth, how she loves the taste of him. You must admit she is, my dear, mustn't you?"
"Oh Lord, oh Lord," Vicky groaned, her eyes absorbing every lurid detail. The woman's mouth was stretched so wide Vicky wondered how she kept from choking on the enormous shaft. It was huge, and the girl's soft, full lips were hungrily locked around it as if never wishing to let go. Yes . . . yes, the Senator was right, Vicky haplessly agreed. And God help her, she'd never experienced such intense pleasure; she'd never allowed herself to be worked up into such a state of sexual ferment as that woman and all the other naked people in this colorful series were in! Lord, how she must have felt when her picture was snapped, her entire mouth filled with that throbbing, hard penis! I've never felt that way. What would it be like... ?
Vicky could feel increasing heat flowing moistly between her tightly pressed thighs, and she squirmed uneasily as Senator Blum's hands lightly brushed around her waist. When he offered her the rest of his drink, she accepted the glass without thinking and automatically relaxed against his muscular, enveloping shoulder. He stroked the tender flesh of her upper hip and buttocks with fingers as gentle as feathers, and she made no protest, thinking to herself: It feels good and comforting, and it doesn't hurt anything. She downed some of the Senator's drink, attempting to cool some of the warmth the sucking woman's passion had transferred to her own mind.
"And look, Vicky, look at this/' the villainous politician urged, flipping the pages with his other hand. "Now she's being made love to. Now she's being fucked, and isn't she adoring it? Isn't she, my dear?"
"Yes, oh she is!" Vicky confessed against her will, shocked to hear her own words while she continued staring at the pictures. The naked woman was flat on her back, her shapely white legs splayed wide apart and the man lying between them, his gigantic hardness stuck all the way in her fleshy cunt. The camera angle highlighted his thickly spearing penis disappearing into the hair-fringed lips between her thighs; only a small red portion of it was left visible, wet and gleaming from her saliva and secretions.
A ripple of forbidden sensation coursed through the blonde virgin secretary as she pondered the size of his rock-hard cock, for it was obviously much larger than Lou's erection had been last night. She couldn't help involuntarily clasping her legs together as she considered what it would feel like to have something that big and rigid skewering her tender vagina. Guilty at her erotic thought, she quickly scanned the next lewd picture- only to gasp out loud as the Senator's hand came up to rest on her thinly covered breast!
The young girl froze momentarily from the unexpected pressure against the front of her dress. Recovering, she tried to hold him back, but he ignored her feeble defense and kneaded the softness of her breasts beneath her brassiere, teasing their sensitive nipples into hardness, his fingers caressing gently the jutting mounds one after another, until both were pulsing and aching. The unwanted secretions trickling from between her vaginal lips were wetting her panties now, and she could feel the warm wetness against the soft flesh of her inner thighs just as she had last night with her boyfriend Lou.
"D-don't, sir!" she weakly protested. "Oh, don't do that to me, Senator Blum!"
"Hush now, my child," he whispered fervently in her ear. "You're like the girls in the booklets, wanting to be loved, loving to be wanted. You like me to hold you this way, you know you do. Why fight it?"
"I don't want it! I don't!" She groaned helplessly in the older man's powerful arms, but her denials seemed to have no effect on him. Blum continued to squeeze and knead her throbbing breasts while she stared at the obscene pictures in her lap. The muscles in her straining body were taut as bow strings as she reacted unwillingly to the maddening fondling of the Senator's hand on her breasts and the lust-inciting photos of the naked man buffeting a writhing woman with his cruelly spearing cock. The woman's eyes were glazed with an ecstatic film of animal arousal, its very rawness bringing a further moan to Vicky's lips, and she shivered fearfully as she heard more lewd words being whispered into her ears.
"See there, Vicky? See how she's being fucked?" Senator Blum cupped her palpitating breasts, giving a sudden hard pinch against the soft rubbery nipples and sending a flash of pain and pleasure shooting through her belly. Vicky had to clamp her lips tightly together to keep from mewling a helpless sigh aloud, and then his tongue flicked moistly into her ear, causing her to squirm deeper into his enveloping embrace.
"See?" the corrupting Senator taunted, turning another page. "Now the woman's got her long white legs wrapped around his waist, so her cunt's wide open and he can fuck that prick of his deep up into her belly until she can damn near taste it!"
"Oh God, Senator Blum, you're saying awful things!" Tears began welling in her pleading eyes. She could hear his hot, panting breath as he held her close, so close that as she moved, she could feel his loins press against her upper thigh. She sensed the lewd bulge in his trousers, a stiffness growing and brushing lewdly along her hip when he leaned into her with growing agitation, and shamefully, she realized that he'd become aroused, his penis as hard as the one she saw in the photos.
Oh Lord, his own booklets had excited him beyond reason! This was the worst possible thing that she could imagine, and the naive girl fought even more desperately to extricate herself from her employer's passionate embrace. But it was in vain, and she found her body slowly yielding to the urgent pressure of his grasping hands upon her breasts, and the grinding touch of his hardening loins against her squirming thighs. She battled the tempting sensations with all her strength, knowing that it was wicked to be responding this way to a United States Senator while gazing lasciviously at a lapful of filthy pictures. She had to fight . . . but if she resisted too strongly, she might infuriate Senator Blum and lose her new promotion! Worse, the amorous politician seemed to sense her hesitancy and confusion, knowing he had her in a position in which she hardly dared fight back, and he was taking full advantage of it!
Still she fought to regain control. "Senator!" she mewled half hysterically. "Please, sir, let go!" She wrenched away from his grasp, tearing his hand painfully from the softness of her breast. "I ... I think I've seen enough pictures! I ... we have to stop now!"
"Hardly, my child!" he hissed zealously, clutching for her again. "We've barely begun!"
His knowing fingers eased gently across her tingling breasts again, and the hardness of his swelling penis once more slid along the cringing flesh of one shivering thigh. Vicky was more beside herself than ever with the growing mixture of fear, shame, and smoldering lust which the combined obscenities around her were kindling in her impressionable young body. The liquor fumed through her veins, intensifying the unsatisfied desires that were rising through her loins against her will.
"Ohhh, sir! No more, no more!" she whimpered, feeling lewdly delicious sensations ripple through her sensitive loins. "I'm not that kind of girl!" she protested, remembering with humiliation that she'd said the same futile words to Lou the night before. "No one ... I mean, I'm not...!"
"Ahhh, a virgin?" Senator Blum chuckled cynically. "I thought the species was extinct. Well, a first time for everything-and everybody, yaass!"
His trembling young secretary jerked spasmodically when she felt his other hand sliding sinuously around her waist and up along her back to gently pluck at her dress zipper. "Ohhh, this is awful!" she sobbed, all too conscious of her slowly gathering surrender to his insidiously tantalizing seduction. She moaned and tried once more to pull away, using the last of her willpower to overcome the strange, unwholesome temptations that were building stronger in the hollow pit of her belly-but her awkward motion only aided the Senator in unzipping her dress. She leaned forward while he tugged downward, and as a result her green woolen dress parted easily along her spine from the nape of her neck to the beginning swell of her panty-clad buttocks.
Vicky gasped and held her breath, an electrifying shock surging across her naked skin as she felt the room's warm air flow across her bare back. "Senator Blum!" she whined, squirming back on the couch and hunching her shoulders defensively as he tried to pull the dress from around her arms. "Oh, Senator, what's gotten into you tonight?"
"My child, it's what's going to get into you tonight that counts!" he chortled lewdly, yanking with erratic, lust-eager fingers. "Come on, come on, help me get your dress off!"
Tears of humiliation and torment cascaded freely down her cheeks as, to her horror, young Vicky found herself submitting to his impatient demand. She was hot and wet between her thighs, her ripely fleshed hips beginning to undulate while she allowed the Senator to pull her dress all the way down her front and bunch it in her lap. Her tautly aching breasts were barely concealed from his passionate eyes by the thin, sheer netting of her exposed brassiere, and the pile of inciting pamphlets was dumped on the floor, spreading open as they fell to show various obscene poses of sexual abandonment.
"Now up, up with your ass!" Senator Blum rasped hoarsely. "I can't fuck you with your clothes on, y'know!"
His lewd command burned through her liquor-filled mind, suddenly filling her with terror and dread and the sober realization that he desired to despoil her. It was too shattering for the terrified young blonde to take, and hysterically she cried: "No! No, I won't let you!" Panicked, she leaped up, clutching her open dress tightly to her naked belly, almost mindless in her need to escape the Senator's predatory hands. "Noooo ...!"
Blum gave one sharp bark of laughter, flinging himself at his fleeing secretary. He grabbed her bare arm, twisting her off balance and wrenching her back toward him. Vicky fell on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, landing heavily on her buttocks, her sprawl cushioned only by the thick carpet and the scattered pile of Climax Illustrated booklets. The wind was knocked savagely from her lungs, and her dress slipped from her hands, sliding still lower and more revealingly around her hips.
"Oh God, Senator! Oh please don't!" she pleaded as she saw the passion-enraged older man reach down for her. But her supplications were swept aside as, brutally, Blum caught the hem of her dress and whipped it from around her trembling hips and buttocks.
Without giving her an instant to collect her reeling senses, he flung the green material from him and hooked two fingers in the elastic support between the twin cups of her brassiere. He tugged and the metal fasteners were torn from the material, and her brassiere came free, to be thrown in the general direction of her dress. Vicky's full, nubile breasts were bared to Senator Blum's greedy eyes, their tiny pink nipples springing into defensive hardness from the humiliation of having been stripped naked.
"No, no, oh God no . . ." she moaned, her head flailing from side to side on the carpet. The smooth velvet-like softness of her skin was unblemished and exposed, entirely naked other than for a white lace garter belt, a pair of sheer nylon stockings, and a thin pair of white silken panties that stretched tightly over her quivering thighs. Curly tufts of her golden pubic hair protruded from beneath the tight elastic of the legbands, the rounded cheeks of her fear-clenched buttocks quaking fearfully under the Senator's lust-crazed stare.
"Like everything else in Washington, my child," he whispered menacingly down at her, "there's a time for negotiation, and a time for action. Yaass!"
Vicky was half-wild with horror and shame now. Even the deadening effects of the liquor could not protect her mind from the horrible truth of what was happening to her. She moaned tormentedly as she felt the heated touch of the Senator's hands running up the sides of her almost naked body. He knelt beside her on the carpet, rounded his fingers over the curving globes of her breasts and tweaked her nipples painfully, then slid his hands almost reverently down to the slimness of her waist above her panties. She could see the politician's rheumy eyes gleaming with inflamed longing as he cupped the full-swelling ripeness of her hips and squeezed at her tender inner thighs.
Then with sudden impatience, he drew his fingers up to the elastic waistband of her panties and began to peel the flimsy white nylon down over the curves of her loins. She tried to hold herself flat on the floor, bitter tears trickling from her eyes, but when the thin material caught in the crevice of her tightly clenching buttocks, he gave a cruel jerk, ripping the panties from her in useless shreds.
"Well leave on your garter belt and stockings," he decided in a panting voice, his gasps having a wheezy quality to them as if he were laboring with an asthma attack. "It ... it excites me more that way! Somehow . . . somehow it strikes me as being more lewd than if you were completely stripped! Ah . . . but now it's my turn to strip, my little filly!"
Vicky pressed herself against the carpet, frozen with disbelief as she watched the distinguished Senator tearing at his shirt and tie. How could he be so crude, so vile and obscene to her, when all the time before he'd been so decent and respectable? Oh Lord, it was clear now that tonight had been a trap! He'd lured her here on the pretext of a promotion, filling her full of liquor and erotica until she was mindless with temptation, and she doubted that there'd ever been or ever would be a new job as he promised! How blind she'd been! How corrupt he was underneath his suave exterior!
Senator Blum was unbuckling his pants now, his tight pair of undershorts bulging out from the pressure of his hardened cock. Vicky wanted to shut her eyes and blot out this lewd horror, but she was too frightened that he would attack her without her knowing it. It took but a second until he was entirely naked, his thick, rigidly pulsing penis jutting out from beneath his pudgy abdomen like the menacing shaft of a blunt spear. With an obscene grin on his handsomely mature face, he began stroking the huge fleshy shaft back and forth, taunting her further by asking lewdly: "Am I as good as the ones in the booklets, my child?"
He was a sadist at heart, and she stared at him like a trapped insect, the lustful glint growing in his eyes as he gloated over the contorted expression of paralyzing fear which crossed her own features. Against her will, her gaze steadied on the massively throbbing penis he was holding in his hand, and in spite of her repulsion, she wondered how a woman could take such a girth inside her belly. Lord, it was monstrous!
Senator Blum started kneeling between her legs, reveling in the horror the size of his erection was producing in his virgin secretary. "Now it's time, Vicky," he hissed. "Now it's lime for me to show you your new position! Yaass."
"D-don't touch me, you beast!" Vicky finally managed to stutter through her drunken fright. She knew in her heart that there would be no mercy, no escape for her. Senator Blum had shown himself for what he was, a satyr, and he was bent on ravishing her helplessly innocent body no matter how she pleaded with him not to do it! She tried to twist away from him but he was too strong and all she could do was writhe beneath his naked muscular frame in futile resistance. She cried out in terror, beating her fists on his head and shoulders, but he clamped her arms tightly to the carpet, hovering over her as he inserted one knee between her firmly clenching legs.
Again she tried to close her thighs and fight her way free, but there was no escape from the determined older politician, and he pried her legs relentlessly apart. Senator Blum had the leverage, and soon her inner muscles tired and slackened, and she felt her thighs being remorselessly widened. He wedged his other knee between the soft insides of her legs and gradually pushed outward until she was twisting weakly on the floor, arms and legs spread-eagled and pinned immobile. Overpowered, she could only lay captive beneath his brutish, heavily breathing body and watch his moist red tongue circle his smirking lips in eager anticipation of her coming rape.
"You don't like fucking, you said. Remember?" Blum grinned evilly down into his young secretary's fear-contorted face. "Well, my child, don't knock it until you've tried it ... and now it's time for you to try it!"
And with that, the naked Senator began lowering himself down upon Vicky's cowering flesh.
Chapter Four
Behind the two-way mirror, Representative McHugh felt his stubby penis expanding painfully while he watched the young blonde's ravishment. He quickly refilled his camera with a fresh roll of film and sighted it through the glass, saliva forming at the corners of his wrinkled mouth. If this special night film was everything it was cracked up to be, he was going to get one hell of a set of photographs! Senator Blum was in rare form tonight, and when he got like this, he could fuck a woman to death!
Vicky Martin and the Senator couldn't have been three feet away from the mirror, and McHugh had had a full, unimpeded view while she was cajoled and seduced and finally stripped naked. The camera caught the rounded white moons of her buttocks as she'd vainly fought to preserve her virtue when her dress had been brutally removed. Then McHugh had snapped pictures recklessly while her brassiere and panties had been torn from her body and while Blum had run his hands blatantly over her cringing flesh, cupping her firm, molded breasts and teasing her pink-skinned vaginal slit. And now the oil-rich politician was clicking the shutter like a madman as Blum crouched over his nakedly splayed secretary, her still-stockinged legs trapped on the thick, soft carpet. Sock it to her, Alexander! McHugh groaned inwardly, small beads of perspiration forming on his brow from the lust-inciting action he was witnessing. Holy hell, what are you waiting for?
It was all Senator Blum could do to keep from shoving his blood-raging cock deep up into Vicky's cunt right then and there, impaling her the way he might a more experienced woman. But the desire to have this sweet innocent girl completely enslaved to him tonight-and any other time he desired her-made him slow his aching torment slightly and work her into a delirious state where she'd always crave cock, more cock, ever and ever. He rolled on top of her, rotating his hips so his rigid penis brushed against her moist pubic hair, and then he raised his buttocks up slightly so he could peer down between their naked bodies and see her upturned little pussy parted to his blunt, throbbing hardness, her wet, pink cunt slit invitingly open from the pressure of his thighs pressing tightly against her inner thighs.
Eyes wide open in abject horror, young Vicky struggled to squeeze her vaginal crevice closed, but it was hopelessly impossible. She watched him hunching over her, grinning down between her proud, upstanding breasts to where his long, thrusting erection prodded her swollen pubic lips with its massive round tip, like the head of an angry snake ready to strike a defenseless victim. The moistly gleaming flesh of her unwillingly stretched cunt was presented up to his momentarily poised cock like a sacrifice of prey. Then he flexed his hips downwards, and she whimpered soulfully in despair, twisting her arms in the grip of his hands. She felt the hardness of his fleshy manhood slide up and down the full length of her cringing vaginal slit, the bloated head pulsing as it insinuated itself with a teasing sensation through her soft blonde hair and along her sensitive pink lips. The lewdly erotic taunt thrilled her against her will, and involuntarily her hips bucked upwards in an automatic search for sexual fulfillment.
"Oh God, Senator! Oh God, don't do this to me!" she mewled before his humiliatingly pleasurable torture. "Nooooo . .," Senator Blum pushed down.
Vicky groaned as the furrow around her aching vagina was cruelly widened, and she felt the first electric tingle of his penetrating cock against her resisting hymen. "Agg!" she gasped from the blunt, pushing force of his erection. Blum flexed again, driving a little harder at the entrance to her virginity, and then gave a small, urgent surge, using his cock-head like a battering ram against her elastic maidenhead. Suddenly, the thin membrane tore, giving way to the relentless pressure, and with a pain so savage that Vicky emitted a high-pitched scream, she felt the wound of her virginity gush with blood.
The Senator never paused, but shoved again and sunk his entire penis deeper into her pain-skewered vagina, pushing the tender flesh of her inner pussy in rippling waves before it. There was no stopping him now, not until with a loud groan bursting from his own lips, his large hirsute testicles smacked heavily against the upturned cheeks of her helplessly spread buttocks.
"Yeeeeeoooowwww!" the young blonde girl squealed beneath him. His massively invading erection felt as if it were shredding her belly into a thousand pieces, sinking deep into her sensitive cunt like a sword slicing through a piteous enemy's loins. She tried to screw herself down on the carpet and evade his brutal impalement, her legs jerking uncontrollably and kicking into the air. But there was no reprieve, and she could feel the Senator's pulsating cock deep down in her cunt, filling every portion of it until there wasn't one small ridge of his spearing hardness she couldn't sense rubbing tightly against the moist warm sheath of her flesh.
"Ohhhhhhh! Ahhhhhggg!" she yelped, not caring who heard her so long as the searing pain which was burning her insides would cease. But Senator Blum pinned her flat with his arms and body, his rutting penis burrowing deeper with each motion, each stroke, bringing fire which rilled her belly and breasts. He was killing her! Lord above, how could any woman ever get pleasure from such outrageous hurt? She thought she was going to die from the unbearable pressure, and contorted her face from the agony of his vicious stab-bings, unconsciously flexing her cunt muscles in a futile effort to expel her unwelcomed invader.
But her defensive response only seemed to incite the older politician on, and he plowed his penis through the vainly resisting passage. He withdrew slightly and pumped downward again . . . then again. His plunging cock felt like a hammer tapping against her cervix.
"Oh," she grunted, "oh God, oh my God... stop! Stop!"
The Senator increased the rhythm of his pistoning strokes, but gradually the initial excruciating pain began to ease a little. Vicky still felt ripped and torn, but to her surprise, she discovered her vaginal muscles were starting to adjust to his lewdly skewering thrusts. Her breath quickened with the realization her cunt was relaxing a little around his punishing thickness, and strangely, beneath all the agony and mental torment, she began to feel the first tingles of masochistic arousal deep in her wildly straining loins. She found herself involuntarily undulating upwards to meet the cruel impalement, her cock-split thighs beginning to squirm of their own volition and twist around his warmly sliding penis with experimental cooperation.
"Ahhhh," she hissed through tightly clenched lips, as frightened of the new delightful sensations as she was of the old pain. She rolled her head from side to side, unwilling to believe what she was experiencing ... but with every sadistic thrust the naked man pumped into her aching pussy, the unwanted, unthinkable passions grew stronger and hotter in her belly.
"You're beginning to like it, my child!" Blum panted in mocking lust down at her, greedily enjoying the change from agony to delight as it spread unconsciously across her features. "You can't deny it-you like to be fucked!"
"Noooo," she insisted, even while panting and writhing more virulently now. Lord, her mind must have snapped from this horrid rape, even to consider liking to be fucked ibis way! Yes-and fuck was exactly the right word to use for this shameful mauling! But the jolts of delicious lewdness would not stop as Senator Blum surged his blood-hardened erection into her totally filled vagina, burgeoning and flaming until she could no longer deny the sensuous fires of arousal sweeping through her flesh. It was impossible, but she was actually reveling in the savage fucking she was getting! The Senator's cock was a hard, thick miracle raging up inside her tender loins and hurting her, but making her tingle deliciously at the same time from the tips of her curling toes to the top of her blonde head!
"You like it!" he grunted above her, his cock expanding and stretching her newly defiled pussy still more. "You know you like it, Vicky! Tell me you do! Go on-don't be afraid to admit the truth! You love being fucked, don't you?"
"Ohhhhhh, I ... I do!" came the surrendering cry. Yes! Yes, this was it! Somehow she'd never thought it would happen to her, and only last night she'd denied her boyfriend this same sweet heaven! Lord, she'd been wrong! She'd been wrong all these years when she could have been enjoying this sublime bliss! What a silly little fool she'd been! "Ohhhhh, Senator Blum, I do! I really do!"
The corrupting politician laughed with cruel contempt, feeling her wetly clinging pussy opening and closing in a pulsating beat as she tentatively undulated her hips up against him. Ahhhh ... his naive, nubile secretary now had her cherry popped, but she still had lots to learn! Love to fuck, did she? Well, she was going to love it all when he was finished with her . . . every lewd act she'd seen in those booklets, and more!
Blum initiated lengthy, savage strokes into her steaming cunt, the full hard shaft of his lust-incited penis sinking to the hilt in her insatiably welcoming belly. His shoulders pushed down against her and kept her secured in her helpless position, but it was unnecessary, for Vicky was thrusting more urgently up against him now in answering passion, her small white teeth nibbling his naked flesh as she cradled her face in the hollow of his corded neck. She sighed and moaned in straining response, the juices of her capitulating vagina flowing down between the crevice of her jerking, bucking thighs to pool with her hymen's blood on the carpet beneath her buttocks. Her flattened young body twisted and arched against him, her hands clutching hungrily at his back to pull him tighter over her, her legs widening so that the debauching Senator could plunge his evil penis lewdly between them to its fullest extent.
Representative McHugh crouched behind^ the mirror and recorded the complete corruption of the once innocent blonde on his film. He photographed breasts and cock and balls and the splayed wet slit of her wanton pussy in a series of full color shots, feeling twinges of jealousy as he watched their lust-wracked faces. He groaned to be out of there with them, his own hard cock quaking with animal desire as the two naked bodies fucked on the rug. Goddamn, but Blum's rucking her good! he wheezed as he snapped more pictures, capturing the senator's rakish penis ravishing Vicky's pinkly spasming cunt.
Vicky kicked out more wildly, delirious sensations causing cries of abandoned delight to tumble from her lips. She locked her ankles around his legs and willfully skewered her hot, moist pussy up the full length of his immense, ramming erection. Excited perspiration poured from every inch of her skin, and her fingers raked the pounding cheeks of his thrusting buttocks with her insatiable need to pull him deeper inside her belly. She rolled in heat, her sensitive vagina the inflamed center of newfound craving, wanting to experience every nuance of sex now-especially what she'd dreamed about while masturbating the night before, the delicious sensation of a man shooting his sperm up into her womb.
"Ohhh, Senator!" she whined. "You feel so good!"
"Then beg me! Beg me for what you want!"
"Ohhh, do it! Do it to me!"
"Not that way!" He choked impatiently. "Tell me you want me to fuck you!"
She moaned and whimpered at this further indignity, finally whispering hesitantly: "F-fuck me!" But then he levered again, and she screamed out in unquenchable passion: "Fuck me! Ohhh, Senator Blum, fuck me!" She was shocked to hear herself blurt such prurient words, but their very obscenity only seemed to urge her on, her drunken mind maddened by the depraved sensations boiling through her blood and sinew. "Fuck meeeee...!"
"Now, that's more like it! Yaass!" the Senator crowed, and he pistoned into her with all his strength. Vicky turned her face to one side so she could suck in the air her aching lungs required, panting with sexual frenzy while her mouth worked fish-like in gasping delight. Her eyes caught one Climax Illustrated booklet open nearby, and she stared at the thick cock pictured there fused with an eagerly hollowing cunt, and somehow she felt a new warm kinship with the unknown woman now that she'd discovered how that woman must have felt when the picture was taken. The obscene photo drove her on, and she chanted deliriously up at Blum: "Fuck, fuck, fuck me . . .oh fuck me and cum, fuck me and cum in me, Senator!"
"I will! I will!" he panted in response. "Fuck back harder! Oh, I'm almost there, my child! Fuck back harder!"
Vicky obeyed wantonly, for she was approaching her own orgasm and her body was more animal than human, twisting and contorting as she spread her thighs and bucked up crazily against the thickly battering shaft of the politician's cock.
She-eit, look at that little bitch go! McHugh thought in lascivious fascination while he stared at the lithely beautiful girl straining for her climax under the heavily fucking body of Senator Blum. He'd never seen anything so absolutely inciting in all his life! He cursed the additional time before he could sink his own angry aching cock into that hot young blonde writhing shamelessly on the floor, and his hands were shaking so badly he couldn't hold the camera steady! He was so all-fired heated up he couldn't even sight through the viewfinder and take a picture of their dimming! To hell with it! He couldn't stand this another instant! He had to join in and be a party to the ravishment of this innocent secretary, and if Blum didn't like it that was just too damned bad for him!
With a growl of insane lust, the elderly Representative stuffed his camera into the pocket of his jacket hanging on one of the hooks. Then, fingers trembling as if struck by palsy, he opened the door to the bedroom closet and staggered out in the direction of the living room, stiff-legged and gasping, his turgid erection leading the way like a wagging signpost.
"Wahoooo!" he cackled. "Ready or not, here I come ...!"
Vicky Martin was dimly aware that somebody else had entered the room, but it didn't matter to her at all. Nothing mattered except her deep, wet grotto of lust and the pistoning male flesh that was filling it. This was madness she had never dreamed about-a total surrender to the lure of the flesh, and her drunken mind reveled in her sinful debasement.
"Jumpin' jehoshaphat!" she heard a wheezy voice exclaim. "Look at little Miss Innocent climb your beanstalk!"
"I told you I'd deliver the right kind of goods, Jerome!" a Blum-like voice panted triumphantly. "I only care to send the very best, yaass!"
"You kept your word, Alexander, you sure did that! You've got my vote on the next three bills, no matter what they are! But don't fuck her to death, you goddamned goat! There's got to be some tender meat left on her bones when I take over!"
"Ha, so it got too much to just watch, eh, Jerome?"
"I was fogging up the glass so bad I couldn't see out here," came the waspish answer, though McHugh was careful not to mention the use of his camera. "For God's sake, cum, will you? Then let a man take over and show you how it's done!"
The puzzling conversation continued, the remarks becoming more lewd and gutterish. But it didn't matter to Vicky. She drove on unheedingly, almost ready to climax and unable to stop. Her secret desires, which she'd kept chained and guarded for so long, had been unlocked and set loose tonight like a pack of wild beasts, to ravage the garden of her mind and body. She wanted to exploit all of her brand-new passions, to saturate herself to the limit with the unfamflar sensations, and her now ravenously hungry cunt spiraled up the Senator's slipperfly plunging cock as she strove madly for the end. Then- "Ohhhh Lord! Lord, yes!" she screamed up at him. "This is it! I . . . I'm going to cum, Senator Blum! I'm going to cum!"
"And so am I . . . !" he chorused enthusiastically.
With a deep-throated howl, her naked body began to vibrate uncontrollably, lubricious secretions flowing from her throbbing pussy slit and drowning his impaling penis with mucous warmth. She reached frantically around under her squirming buttocks with both her hands to caress his slapping testicles as he heaved down between her wide-split thighs. She felt him spasm, sensing the muscles of his abdomen tightening against her bare skin, and she braced herself. Her first male cum inside of her! The first time a man had spurted his semen into her belly! She knew with an illogical flash that it wouldn't be her last, either.'...
And then the Senator's penis expanded and she could feel the thin tube running along the underside of his shaft bulging with his molten seed. He groaned and swore, and thick sperm splashed out deep inside her pussy, making her vaginal walls pulsate in rhythm to his surging throbs. The panting secretary shivered and blindly reacted, arching her back and clenching greedily at his ejaculating cock as her own ograsmic fluids spewed from around her nibbling cunt lips and rivuleted down over her thighs and buttocks. She felt completely void of all normal emotion as her paralyzing climax covered her like an obscene blanket, deadening her nerves and bones until she felt wrapped in miraculous joy. Her legs spasmed and then dropped from around his legs, splaying lifelessly while Senator Blum's cock trickled out the last of his cum. She sighed dreamily, lost in her just-discovered world of sensuality.
Well, she'd just been fucked for the very first time, and fucked very well, too! Her entire pubic area still throbbed with a dull continuous ache and her flesh wouldn't stop trembling from the overflow of passionate sensations which had changed her from a decent girl to a seething mass of wanton female flesh. She could never return to being a virgin, but she had to admit that she didn't seem to care that she'd lost her prized proof of innocence. In fact, as the very shamelessness of her abandoned behavior flickered hazily behind her tightly closed eyes, the mental images of her naked body craving for orgasm seemed to incite her dazed and drunken senses all over again. With subconscious desire, she began to undulate her buttocks in tiny lewd circles, squeezing her vaginal muscles against the rapidly deflating penis still nestled tight in her loins. She had milked it dry once, but spurred on by her new-found sensuality and the erotic stimulation this evening had provided, Vicky was gripped by the sudden urge to have Senator Blum's cock once more hard and long and fucking into her cunt. She lusted to feel his hot, thick sperm filling her yearning little pussy again until it flooded from her pussy lips and ran down her already smeared thighs. She wanted to wallow in lust again; wallow in her still fresh and unexplored streak of depravity.
"Again ... oh Lord, Senator, again!" she sobbed out with uncontainable frustration. But it was useless. As much as she rolled her hips around his softened penis, it would not come alive for her, its mastery lost over her unsated emotions. With a satisfied sigh of contentment, Senator Blum crawled from between her still gyrating thighs and flopped on his back beside her on the carpet.
"Please, sir! Please, fuck me again!" Vicky was writhing with unsatiated need, grinding her hips into the floor while manipulating her own fingers between her thighs. "Ohhh, please, I want to be fucked!"
"And that, toots, is why I'm here!" came a raucous, sniggering voice from close by. "Just you open your pretty blue eyes and take a gander at me, and you'll see a derrick that'll satisfy what ails you!"
"Wh-what?" Vicky gasped, and now she recalled the strange, ethereal voices she heard moments earlier while she climaxed. She leaned up on one elbow, her other hand frozen in its obscene position of masturbation, and turned her head to stare in the direction of the sound. She shook herself to clear the glaze of passion and fog of liquor which were cloaking her vision . . . and then she opened her mouth in horror, her face turning bright red in abrupt humiliation and dread at being found nakedly sprawled with Senator Blum's sperm still oozing from her pussy.
"Oh my God! Oh my God, no!" she gasped. "Oh God, it's Representative McHugh!"
"In the flesh, toots," the sixty-nine-year-old man snickered, coming toward her.
Chapter Five
Congressman McHugh moved closer until he was standing arrogantly over the horror-stricken form of Senator Blum's blonde secretary. His stumpy, thickly veined penis jutted out in its hardness like an accusing finger. To one side, Senator Blum rested against one leg of the coffee table, his face a flushed, sweaty pink from satiation, and his leer almost as salacious as McHugh's smirking grin.
Vicky Martin finally realized the exact dimensions of her position, and tried to scramble away from the two politicians, pressing herself against the front panel of the low couch alongside her, putting one fisted hand up against her trembling mouth and biting her knuckles.
McHugh chuckled in an off-hand, easy manner, as if he were sitting in his Capitol office instead of standing naked in the midst of brutal degeneracy. "Guess you're a mite surprised to see me here, right?" he asked her, eyes flashing.
"Go-go away!" she blurted, knowing how silly and futile her words sounded even as she said them. "Please... just go away!"
"Why, that ain't a very respectful attitude to take toward a duly elected representative of these here United States," the aging politician rebuked, his voice mocking disapproval as he wagged a finger down at her. "And after all the trouble Alexander went to to arrange things. It was planned from the start, toots, just so you'd be where you are now . . . and certainly you don't want to disappoint us, do you? Not a good girl like you."
"Arranged? Planned?" Vicky managed to gasp through her clenched fist. "B-But why? Why?"
"Why do you think? To get at that hot little body of yours, you silly goose! You've been sashaying it in front of everybody around the halls ever since Alexander brought you to Washington, teasing us, telling us we can look but can't touch. Well, this may be news for you, but we're the ones who make the laws. So when your distinguished Senator Blum offered a 'gentleman's agreement' concerning you, why it seemed the perfect time to lay the law. So to speak."
"Wh-what are you planning to do?" she whimpered. "Oh I beg you, don't hurt me!"
"Nobody's going to hurt you, my child," Senator Blum said sauvely in a pretense of pacifying his terrified secretary. "Now, you just remember how much you loved my pecker in your cunt just now, and everything will be just fine. Yaass."
"And you did," McHugh taunted, smiling lecherously at her. "I saw it all, and you got nice and hot and pleading to be fucked. You will again," he promised, reaching down to touch her arm. "You will again, and you'll be fucked again."
Vicky cringed from his brushing fingers, a shrinking tremor surging through her naked flesh. "N-no!" she groaned, shaking her head slowly as she gazed haplessly up into his pitiless eyes. "Don't even touch me!"
"But I am going to touch you, toots! I'm going to touch you all over, wherever and however I want to. You're going to fulfill all the promises of that body of yours, everything I've been watching and wanting. This is going to be one night you're not going to forget, I can vouch for that...."
The obscenities droned on and on, but it was as if a switch had suddenly been pulled somewhere in the girl's tortured and drunken brain, completely blotting out the rest of Congressman McHugh's lewd words. The total shock of turning from the moist, hot heaven of sexual release, and seeing the nude form of another man greedily spying on her, had pushed Vicky dangerously close to insanity. Hearing his salacious threats, his revelation that Senator Blum had planned her entire seduction, and learning that both men were far more corrupt and evil than she could ever have imagined, had almost sent her crazy. If it had not been for the liquor and the embers of passion which still glowed faintly through her flesh, she would surely have become a raving maniac in that moment while she crouched by the couch. She sprawled in a half-daze of tumbling, disjointed thoughts and emotions, nothing making any sense to her until she was suddenly jerked back to painful reality. Representative McHugh was kneeling beside her, his flaming eyes and hot breath so close now to her tender skin that they seemed to burn a hole straight through to her reeling, insensate mind.
"I do believe you've struck a valuable deposit, Alexander," he said huskily, his course fingers moving over the rounded whiteness of her firm thighs, twisting and kneading the softly yielding flesh of her hips. "She's no dry hole, that's for sure. She's got rich untapped resources, and by all that's holy, I'm going to have fun drilling for a gusher!"
"Well, if the first time were any indication," Senator Blum replied, crawling closer, "this dear sweet child doesn't have any energy crisis-unless it's too much!"
Congressman McHugh sat back on his haunches for a moment, inspecting the erotic portrait of the young blonde's curvaceous body quivering in helpless prostration. "Help me turn her over," he croaked, no longer able to contain his urgent lust. "Turn her over on her belly and then hold her down."
"Lord, no . . . no . . ." Vicky mewled in frigid terror, but she was unable to resist when the two politicians clutched her and rolled her over harshly on the carpet. She lay quaking on her stomach, her face pressed into the matting, her eyes clenched shut with bitter shame and misery.
"What are you going to do to her, Jerome?" the senator asked. "Fuck her dog-style?"
"Godddd!" Vicky sobbed against the carpet, tears streaming from her eyes and down her softly crimsoning cheeks. Fuck her like a dog . . as if she were nothing better than a bitch in heat! She winced at the lewd idea, then shuddered as she felt a small, unwanted tingle of excitement lance through her loins from the very perversity of such humiliating defilement. Miserably, she sensed that her explosive emotions which had been loosened when Senator Blum had been fucking her, were barely banked now and could be fanned into a raging inferno again, consuming her flesh in a fire of wanton lust. Dear God, she must fight her new-found yearnings! She must not surrender as she had before to the betrayal of her body's wicked desires! She mustn't let them win! She mustn't...!
Senator Blum heard his naked secretary's groaning shame, and grinned diabolically at McHugh. He was squatting in front of her face, leaning forward slightly and pinning down her shoulders with his arms, following her every squirming motion to insure she could not get up off the floor. He watched with interest as the older representative positioned himself over the lush curve of her quivering, upthrust buttocks, and he felt Vicky clenching every muscle of her body when McHugh fingered her rounded young ass-cheeks, cupping their full-swelling ripeness with horny delight.
Vicky felt the representative's calloused old hands shakily groping at her sensitive buttocks. She tried to pull away from his loathsome touch, but the weight of Senator Blum's hands on her neck and shoulders held her firmly to the carpet. McHugh clutched more frantically, gripping the moons of her buttocks in a taloned bite as he tried to lever her hips ofE the floor.
"Up, toots, up!" she heard him panting. "Get up on your knees and waggle your sweet ass for me!"
Vicky attempted to resist. As she had when the Senator had first stripped her naked, she flattened herself against the carpet instead of blindly obeying the lurid command, this time locking her ankles together and stiffening the muscles of her thighs and buttocks as well. But she knew with tragic fatalism that her defense was hopeless and she couldn't hold out long against her inevitable fate. The fingers clawing her hips tugged with powerful insistence, and Senator Blum pushed her face harder against the floor, cutting off her air and causing a faint dizziness to sweep over her. Her body went limp, and by the time she'd recovered her breath, her buttocks were waving high in abject submission to the aroused old politician kneeling behind her.
Sobbing in hopeless resignation, Vicky relaxed and ceased her struggles. There was nothing left now but the horrible surrender to McHugh's obscene desires, her conquered body to be used like a helpless toy in his quest for satisfaction . . . satisfaction that would only come when he'd spewed his ancient sperm deep up inside her belly.
"Spread that ass wider, toots!" Representative McHugh demanded, his rheumy eyes gleaming licentiously. "As wide apart as you can!"
The nakedly cowering girl responded, now beyond all resistance or care. She moved her knees apart until the whole of her tender little cunt slit was exposed, still warm and moist from her orgasmic secretions, her blonde pubic hair matted with Senator Blum's ejaculations. Representative McHugh lowered his face until it was on the same level as the thin, pink folds of her young vagina, and eager for more, he placed his hands on her resilient buttocks and determinedly pressed outward. He stared engrossed at the smooth inner valley between her hair-fringed lips, viewing all of her pussy from clitoris to anus, tender and pearl-like. He spied some whitish moisture from the Senator's recent dimming, but that didn't bother him; what the hell, a guy got used to that after the number of group-sex and swap-club orgies he'd attended! It even added a certain piquancy as far as he was concerned, like sprinkling a little spice on delicious food. Ahhhh . . . and what a feast she had set before his eyes!
McHugh removed one hand and placed it on his mouth. He fumbled with his false teeth and then took them out, placing the dentures carefully on the coffee table nearby, where they seemed to smile back at him with a lewd porcelain grin. He moved closer between the sobbing girl's legs, breathing deeply of her cunt fragrance as it drifted enticingly up to flare his nostrils . . . and then he blew softly out through his puckered lips, directly against the sensitive crevice of her exposed pink pussy.
Vicky squirmed in embarrassed surprise, but before she could react further, McHugh thrust his tongue forward and touched the tender folds of her warmly pulsating vagina. She gasped, shocked from the unexpected wet contact with her cunt slit, and jerked forward to escape the hot, teasing touch of his withered mouth. But Senator Blum tightened his hands on her shoulders so she couldn't slip away, while McHugh thrust his tongue deeper into her succulent young pussy, pushing his gums closer and beginning to work at the whole naked plane of her uptilted vagina.
"Ohhhhhhhh!" she mewled in a muffled tone. "Ohhhh no! No, don't!"
The kneeling politican's only response was a throaty laugh and a further teasing stab of his tongue up into the shame-clenched lips of her cringing pussy. McHugh could feel her trying desperately to pull her wide-splayed hips away from his slippery probe, and he could hear her whimper in moaning anguish to the perversion he was forcing her to accept. The satin flesh and soft blonde pubic hair brushed teasingly against his nose and chin while she clenched her thighs in mortification, but despite her shame and abhorrence, he could taste the beginning droplets of involuntary secretions. He knew her healthy young body was starting to tentatively react even if her mind still rebelled. The clear lubrications were slowly seeping from her subconsciously responding cunt, a delightful mixture heightened by her unwilling arousal and the remainder of Senator Blum's semen.
"No, don't ... please, don't. . . ." Vicky changed as the congressman swirled his tongue around deep in her submissive pussy. Despite the horror and embarrassment from the depravity he was subjecting her to, she felt an undeniable throb of wanton delight forcing its way unwantedly through her naked loins. She could feel the fleshy lips of her sensually awakened cunt pulsing gently with desire, as if demanding more of the wet licking tongue deeper between their sensitive folds. She could sense tormenting shivers of forbidden sensations starting to ripple through her nerves no matter how she resolved that they should not, their lewd intensity increasing as she envisioned the helplessness of her obscene kneeling position. Her toes curled against the carpeting and her legs began to quiver responsively to the quickening liquid caress of his toothless mouth, unable to restrain her rising emotions. Against all her hopes and promises, her nubile breasts swung beneath her chest with a growing hardness, their crimson nipples protruding in a firmness which betrayed her need to be fucked again.
Then McHugh flicked the tip of his tongue upward without warning, teasing the sensitive ring of her anus that was now clearly exposed between her quivering buttocks. The tight rosebud muscle of her rectum puckered defensively from the lewdly pleasurable sensation, but the sadistic old politician only pressed closer, feeling her writhe under a continuous wet assault on her vulnerable little anus.
"Ohhhhh!" she groaned uncontrollably between her teeth. "That's even worse there! No, don't! Don't!"
Lord, how he was debasing her! Treating her like some gutter whore, just like Senator Blum had raped her without mercy as if she were a common slut! She tightened every muscle in defense against the immoral kissing of her anal opening, discovering to her morbid shame that her thighs were flowering wider apart, unconsciously begging to absorb more and more of the cruel lust-licking mouth. Even if she were married and loved her husband very much, she would never have allowed her genitals to be tongued this way! The entire notion of this perversion had always repulsed her . . . but now, after having seen cunnilingus in the booklets and indulged in depravity on her own, there was little left in her immature mind to resist this further attack upon her naivety.
"Lord, don't let it happen," she prayerfully murmured to herself. "Oh, don't let it happen to me again. . . ." But haplessly she sensed that she was falling prey to her own wicked desires once more, and her sinful body was approaching that exquisite state a second time, where nothing mattered other than total prurient abandonment. The lewd admission of her approaching defeat only made her squirm her smooth rounded buttocks back against Representative McHugh's punishing mouth and chastize her wanton flesh still more. A corrupting blaze was building irrevocably in her seething belly, and in the end it was the mortifying realization of her own sordid cravings that weakened her to surrender. A moan of obscene arousal escaped her lips, unmasking her capitulation to her lusts. I can't help myself! I just can't help myself any longer!
"Ohhhhhhhhhh!" the twenty-year-old secretary sighed. "Yes! Yes, do it! Do it to me!"
"Do what?" Senator Blum taunted mercilessly. "Tell Jerome exactly what to do!"
Vicky knew exactly what the two evil men wanted her to beg for, and the resultant disgrace tantalized her nerves. She couldn't do anything to stop herself. "S-suck me! Suck my cunt and my ass!" she babbled in mindless desire. "Suck me off ...!"
Blum heard the beautiful blonde girl's lewd pleadings and felt the increasing tempo of her abandoned body beneath his hands. "So!" he chortled maliciously down at her. "It's like I told you, my child-amazing things are done and said when in the throes of passion!"
The naked Senator locked his vision on her wetly parted lips that were already ovalling from her shameful arousals. A picture of how they'd look closing over a long hard penis fired his lewd imagination as he held her shoulders to the carpet, and he felt his once limp cock jerk with renewed excitement. The more he studied her lovely face and watched her mouth gasping in torment and pleasure, the greater was his own desire, now regenerating in his loins. He thought of her swallowing a hot load of sperm as he spurted it down her warmly sucking mouth, and reflexively, his lengthy penis grew erect again, straightening into a thick, aching spear of revitalized lust. Hell, it was as if he'd cum only moments before! He didn't need to hold Vicky down any longer, not the way she was going stark raving mad with McHugh gumming her upturned, twitching cunt! It was stupid to just kneel here doing nothing-after all, Vicky was his secretary, wasn't she?
The heavily breathing Senator took one hand from young Vicky's shoulder and wrapped it around his rejuvenated cock. Stroked his hardness to burgeoning length, moving his other hand around to ringer over Vicky's sensual mouth and part her glistening lips. Then he shifted around slightly so that the purplish blunt tip of his re-erection pressed wetly along her velvety cheeks, temptingly near to her pink-flushed chin.
"You like being sucked, my dear?" he hissed lewdly. "All right . . . then you can suck me! Suck my cock! Yaass!"
Vicky had been hunched in a half-dazed state of sensation, and it wasn't until she heard Senator Blum's obscene demand that she realized what he was doing. She tried to avert her head, sickened suddenly at the thought of her face being used as an unwilling bowl for despotic sperm, hoping crazily that he was only trying to humiliate her further and hear her beg some more. But when the salacious Senator tangled his fingers in her long blonde hair and jerked her head back around and off the carpet, she knew with mounting horror and revulsion that he was very serious. He did want her to take his penis in her mouth, just like that woman did in those awful pictures!
"Come on!" she heard him insist. "Open wide!"
"Yeth, do it!" McHugh shouted in a muffled lisp, still tonguing her pussy without his teeth. "Thuck him off!"
Her eyes widened in tormented anguish, and she couldn't quite bring herself to obey the corrupt commands, even though she knew something worse would happen if she failed. She watched in spellbound loathing as Senator Blum pulled the foreskin on his hardened shaft back so that the bulbous head pulsated an inch away from her mouth. Then his other hand was forcing her jaws apart while he guided the hard spongy cock which had so recently fucked her against her clenching teeth. Still she hesitated . . . and then McHugh lashed his aging tongue deep into her sensitive young cunt, causing her to gasp in renewed delight. Blum's thick erection rammed through her spontaneously parting lips, sliding in the moist saliva of her mouth up along the full length of her tongue.
Immediately the Senator began a slow pumping action, his massive penis sliding in and out of her mouth with a lurid, wet sucking sound. Vicky could feel his glans seeping tiny droplets of lubricating fluid, filling the warm cavern between her cheeks with a pungent salty taste. She closed her eyes, her shame and despair knowing no bounds as she tried not to dwell on the depraved assault to which she was being submitted. But it was impossible. The older man's hands were holding her in a savage grip, his bloated testicles bouncing off her chin as he increased the strokings of his throbbing cock into her cringing mouth.
"Now suck on it," Blum snarled viciously from above her nodding head. tfWrap those sweet lips around it and suck!"
Vicky started to cry again but it came out gagged and low as he shoved the sound back down her throat with his pistoning cock. Her lips began to nibble slightly on his fleshy shaft, more from, self-defense so she could keep on breathing than from any eager enjoyment. Her tongue, lips, and teeth closed ovally around the large, sliding penis until the Senator's buttocks began to tighten from the delicious sensations she was causing him.
"Not bad, my child! Not bad! More!" he groaned above her bobbing face as she worked enslaved to end her degradation as soon as possible. "Ohh, you're a natural! You're a natural-born-cock-sucker, yaass!"
The saliva in Vicky's mouth became sticky with the emissions of seminal moisture leaking from the tip of his thrusting cock. She could feel his wiry pubic hair grazing her nose as his expanding penis stretched her hollowing cheeks. Moaning piteously, she felt him skewering her mouth with merciless fury, while behind her, Congressman McHugh pressed his toothless mouth further into the slippery crevice of her tingling pussy. Never had she felt so abused or debauched, both venal politicians acting as if they were trying to meet somewhere in the middle of her ravaged body. She sucked Blum's blood-engorged manhood and wriggled her buttocks back against McHugh's tonguing mouth in an effort to satisfy them, praying that this would be all her cruel molesters would demand.
Yet even as she sucked at the hard, thick penis pumping into her mouth, she felt her naked flesh stirring with newly building passion. Her hips were starting to squirm more demandingly while Representative McHugh stimulated her succulent pussy, her widespread thighs undulating of their own volition around his wetly scouring tongue and lips. She tried to ignore the nerve-tingling sensations creeping forcefully through her nakedly kneeling body . . . but the mean, debasing thought of her vagina being licked while her mouth was being used as a second cunt was too lewd an image for her to resist. The masochistic pleasure of being abused like the filthiest of whores permeated her mind, and she whimpered mutely with a combination of shame and delight. Oh Lord, it's happened! the naked girl droned on in her misery. A tongue in my cunt and a prick in my mouth, and I can't seem to keep from loving it!
Behind her the elderly congressman sensed her now unleashed desires, and decided he'd fooled around long enough. He straightened up from her erotically rotating buttocks, licking his thin lips to cleanse the last of her warmly perfumed pussy juice from his mouth, and then he ordered in a voice husky with passion: "Lif that ath higher! Lif it up in the . air!"
Vicky reacted without hesitation this time, arching her hips and feeling his coarse fingers on her thighs. She knew she was being manipulated to his own perverted sense of lust, and she felt the weakness and trembling in her legs from her own obscene desire to be fucked. She sucked in her breath, ovalling her lips more firmly around Senator Blum's throbbing penis, as she felt the older politician's stubby erection sliding along the smooth, delicate slit between her wavering buttocks. In eager anticipation she began to thrust her up-tilted crevice back against his taunting cock, her moistly welcoming vagina searching desperately for the fulfilling shaft of male hardness.
Representative McHugh had other, more sadistic ideas. He raised his lust-bloated shaft until its rounded head was aimed directly at the tiny pink sphincter muscle of her rectum. He hunched forward, prodding her anus with his penis, finding her well lubricated with saliva and her own secretions. The swollen tip of his cock nudged against the snugly resisting entrance of the blonde secretary's rectum, and he chuckled lewdly as he felt her stiffen in shock and sudden dread.
"Wha . . . ? What are you doing?" Vicky squeaked around the grinding hardness filling her mouth. "What are you doing to me back there?"
"Juth-thith!" McHugh gleefully lisped, and thrust with his flanks, stabbing his cock through the elastic barrier of her now futilely puckered anus.
"Auuggghh!" the skewered secretary groaned.
The astounding and unexpected pain of the congressman's thick penis popping into her tight little anal passage whipped the girl's breath away. She choked on. Senator Blum's hot erection still stuffing her mouth, her mind reeling in panic as she tried to wrench free. But she found herself too firmly skewered between the pair of brutally spearing cocks, and the agonizing penetration of Representative McHugh continued....
"Mmmmnimuuuugggghhhh!'' she cried around the penis between her lips. "Stop! It hurts! It hurts!"
"Nathurly!" McHugh leered, ramming another brutal inch of his sodomizing hardness up into her rectum.
"You're killing meeee!" she screamed in dizzying waves of agony. Her nakedly impaled buttocks quivered and writhed as the vicious thrusts into her tortured rectum grew with remorseless strength. She could hear the representative's obscene grunts of effort and pleasure as he strained to hammer all of his thicky wedging erection into her anus, and she hated herself and her defeated body for the indecent joy it was giving him. She simply couldn't withstand this sordid sodomizing any longer, the pain was too intense . . . but then she felt a strange new buttock-flattening pressure as McHugh's old pelvis slammed against her thighs, and she knew that somehow she'd managed to absorb all of his savage penis. He was totally filling her wretchedly split rectum, solid and extremely painful, but at least she had no more to accept!
"Uggggg," she groaned around Blum's mouth-fucking cock, fearful of moving for the excruciating torture it would cause. Lord, she couldn't believe the depravities happening to her! She'd started out as an innocent virgin tonight, and here she was being fucked in the mouth and fucked in the ass-simultaneously! God, she simply couldn't fall any lower than she was already!
McHugh grabbed her waist in a lunging bear-hug and immediately began to piston rhythmically into her sadistically swollen anus. "Arg!" she gurgled. "Ohhhh! Owwww!" The aging politician chuckled as he heard her groaning cries, sawing faster and deeper in and out of the hot buttery depths of her rectal passage, delighted in the further sobs of pain and misery he was causing her. With an obscene perversity, he slid one hand down underneath her thighs and fondled her open vaginal slit, feeling the warm, slick moisture from her cunt seeping deliciously out to coat his wrinkled testicles as they swung loosely down between her legs. His beady eyes locked on his hardened cock fucking cruelly into the tight puckered opening between her buttocks, watching greedily as her tender pink nether flesh clung to the shaft of his penis as if unwilling to let go. His raspy breathing increased, roused by the lascivious sight before him, and he rampaged the clasping tunnel of the young girl's rectum without thought or care for the torment he was bringing her.
Vicky dug her nails into her palms, and gently bit at the long hard cock throbbing between her ovalled lips. She felt ripped beyond repair up between her widened thighs, horribly degraded in her pain-wracked submission. She knelt moaning and crying between the two vicious politicians, impaled upon their twin erections like a roasting pig upon a spit. Senator Blum wasted no time in matching the ruttish tempo McHugh set up, and he began to surge furiously into her warm, wet mouth in time to the representative's thrustings into her inhumanely filled rectum.
At first the only thing the nakedly subjugated secretary could do was utter long, continuous whines of horror and agony. But as the lust-enraged men crushed into her defenseless young body with harder and faster power, her ravished flesh began to slowly respond to the outrageous defilement, just as it had done the one time before. She was dazedly shocked to find the pain in her anus gradually fading, the burning agony inexorably changing to a strange and lurid thrill that seemed to shiver through her raw nerve-endings. Her mewls of hurt inevitably lessened, becoming low whimpers of passion, of pleadings to be ravaged and punished by the naked older men fucking her at either end. She began to wish that her clasping lips and squeezing anus would be as salaciously mauled as her tender pink cunt had been, savagely raped until hot liquid cum filled her mouth and rectum as her pussy had been. It was just as she'd abjectly feared when the perversions had begun . . . she could never be the same innocent girl again, and she no longer gave a good Goddamn!
"Squeeze my balls, child!" Senator Blum panted down at her. "Take them gently in your hand and squeeze them!"
Vicky cupped the soft, semen-filled sac, sucking demoniacally as she did, not because she'd been ordered to, but because she would no longer withstand the temptation. Her upturned thighs humped against McHugh's fleshy sceptre like a milking machine gone mad, the ecstatic pleasure of being lewdly and sinfully sodomized permeating her body with teasing submissiveness.
"Suck! Suck!" the Senator groaned. "I'm going to . . . I'm going to cuuummmm! Yyyyyaaassss!"
Vicky moaned around the throbbing cock in her mouth as it skewered violently between her tightly ringing lips. She knew that at any second it would begin spurting out its load of obscene male cum, and she sucked hungrily to taste it. In place of shame or guilt, was the wonderfully arousing desire for her entire body to be saturated in heated male seed, and she thrust her loins back at the same time against the more than willing representative, opening her rectal muscles wide to get every fractional inch of his pistoning cock.
"Ahhhhhh!" McHugh grunted. "I'm cumming thoooo!"
At the same moment Vicky's second climax struck her loins, the penis fucking her in the ass jerked in warning. It started spurting needle-thin jets of hot, sticky sperm deep up into her salaciously quaking rectum, splashing against her anal walls and then back out her clasping sphincter muscle to trickle slowly down to the hairlined lips of her pussy. The old politician's thick stump cock spasmed vir-iley, making Vicky hunch forward and submerge Blum's burgeoning cock in her wildly sucking mouth to its very hilt. Then, it burst as well, flooding her mouth and throat with delicious pungency of volcanic proportions. Her cheeks ballooned outward as she desperately choked and gulped, trying to swallow all of the white-haired Senator's cascading semen, clasping her lips into a tight oval band around his pumping shaft so she wouldn't lose a single drop of his precious cum. She lashed out her tongue in a final eager effort to capture all of the taste-tempting sperm as his collapsing penis slid free from her lips with a slow, wet, sluicing sound.
"Nnnnngghh!" she groaned, her once innocent flesh exploding in a myriad of orgasmic stars, her lithe young body racked by the great upheaval of her climax. She shivered rigidly . . . then fell forward, exhausted on the rug, releasing McHugh's depleted cock from the ravaged pink orifice of her cum-drenched rectum. The three of them sprawled on the carpet beside the couch and coffee table, nearly unconscious from their satiations and barely able to breathe....
"Fine," Representative McHugh sighed after awhile. "Oh, that wath juth fiiine!"
"The best little secretary I ever did hire," Senator Blum agreed with a satisfied smile. "A true Caroline Wren...."
Vicky buried her face in her hands as reality slowly drifted back to her whirling brain. Now, with the heat of her tender body gradually dissipating, she sensed the cold return of guilt and despair. Lord, she had no idea what had taken possession of her mind, but shamefully she'd not been able to control the basest of her yearnings, and her sensitive anus and mouth throbbed and pulsed from the depravities she'd begged for. But now, with bleak remorse, all she wanted was to get away from this horrid apartment and these two loathsome politicians. She pulled herself up to a sitting position, pausing to allow her aching muscles a chance to adjust before she stood up.
"Going somewhere, my child?" Blum asked casually, stroking her leg with gentle ringers.
'Home," she said miserably, yanking her leg away.
"So soon? Why? Haven't you had fun?"
Vicky nodded mutely, tearfully, unable to deny the obvious after the way she'd so lewdly performed. "Yes, but . . . but no more. Lord, I can't take any more. Please, let me get dressed and go home."
"Mi' ath well, Alethander," Representative McHugh agreed, displaying rare sympathy toward the girl he'd brutally sodomized.
"You've cum twice now, an' I ain' no spring chicken any longer. We've had enough for one nigh'."
"For always," Vicky murmured in a promise to herself. Slowly, painfully she rose to her feet, seeing her naked reflection in the large mirror-the two-way glass she still didn't suspect. For a moment she studied the raw bruises and pink spots which marked her pale young skin, and then she stumbled to where her clothes were heaped on the carpet. She shuddered for a moment, unable to bend over and retrieve them . . . and then thought how she must look to the two politicians. She'd arrived here as an innocent virgin . . . and now she was standing like some wanton prostitute, callously posing in only her stockings and the dried white film of their multi-orgasms.
A wave of grief and horror swept over her, and she hastily scooped up her dress and struggled into it. She left her tattered brassiere and panties where they lay, it being useless to try and wear their shredded remnants. Their disheveled pile told without words the sorry story of her tragic downfall, and their picture would remain in her mind forever as the symbol of her moral defeat. Then she turned without a word, slipped into her shoes and headed slowly for the front door.
"You want me to call a taxi, my dear?" Blum asked.
She turned to study the nude Senator. Still handsome and muscular, his thick white hair managing to stay improbably combed, he gave her a small, silken smile as he sat in total ease on the carpet. Congressman McHugh was lying close by, his flabby legs spread wide apart while one gnarled hand stroked his wrinkled cock.
"No," she said with a shudder as she averted her face from the obscene position the two made together. "No, I think you've done quite enough for me already, sir." She opened the door, hearing a cynical chuckle behind her, and then she stiffened, pausing again to add over her shoulder: "And don't expect me to be at work tomorrow."
"Oh, really?"
"That's right. I quit!"
She didn't bother to close the front door, tears of humiliation and self-loathing falling down her face. From the open doorway she could hear the corrupt, mocking laughter of the two venerable politicians, their obscene derision chasing her down the hall as she stumbled for the elevator.
Chapter Six
It was late the following afternoon and shadows were already creeping across Vicky Martin's apartment when the young girl unlocked her front door and stumbled drunkenly inside. She clutched a large paper sack to her breasts, as if its contents of four large wine bottles were precious gold, and groped her way to the overstuffed armchair in one corner. She sank down in it, letting the bag of wine drop beside her feet, and despite the heavy woolen pants and sweater she wore beneath the sheepskin car-coat, her entire body felt made of ice. She shivered, drawing the coat tighter around her body with her hand as she reached for one of the bottles. There was a corkscrew on the small table beside the chair, and fumbling with it, she finally managed to open the bottle and pour some cheap sweet wine into the empty glass which was also resting beside her.
She took a deep swallow and then another, feeling the silky liquid warming all the way down to fill her empty stomach. She'd been drinking wine since she'd risen trembling from her bed that morning, desperate for something to calm her shattered nerves. She'd gone through everything in the house with almost a vengeance, and while she felt a little ashamed for the way she'd been drinking, she couldn't help feeling grateful for the faint lightheadedness which swirled through her blood and eased the torment of her mind.
And when her own three quarts of tokay had been emptied, she'd somehow steeled herself to brave the outside world, walking quickly down to the neighborhood grocery store for more. She'd tried to hold her head as high and proud as she could, attempting to at least look normal and presentable even if she didn't feel that way internally. But the strain had drained her, and now that she was back in the silent dimness of her apartment, she was once again tortured with nothing but her own morbid thoughts to keep her company.
Vicky lifted the glass and drank again, choking to hold down the wine as she recollected her obscene rutting with those two sadistic politicians . . . begging for more as they raped her vagina, mouth, and rectum . . . and her cumming, her greedy cumming as she wallowed in their orgiastic sperm until at last some sort of sanity finally returned, and she found herself naked on the carpet. God, her flesh had been so abused that after she'd stumbled home and taken a long cleansing shower and douche, she'd hardly been able to stand the pain of clothing on her betraying body! Even now, the fully covering pants and sweater sent dull throbs of hurt as their material pressed against her sore, aching flesh.
She finished the glass and poured it full again with unsteady fingers, determined to drink enough to blot out the lewd memories of her actions. Her consistent horrors were not so much of the vile and lecherous perversions that Senator Blum and Representative Mc-Hugh had done to her, but of the humiliating surrender of her own moral senses. She had not merely succumbed to the savage older men from helpless fear and their overpowering strength . . . but had lewdly reveled in shameless abandonment, giving herself to them with lusting eagerness. And this admission frightened her above all else.
But she vowed as she sat in the chair, her indefensible performance would remain locked in the confines of her heart forever. To go to the authorities and expose the Congressmen for the corrupters they were would only add to her disgrace, the publicity of the lurid details surely disclosing her own sexual immorality. No, it was obvious she couldn't fight back and must keep the entire seduction a secret, hoping that in time she'd be able to seal away the wicked episode in some dark recess of her mind. Eventually she might be able to feel nothing except a guilty scar to remind her of her unspeakable urges. She prayed she could . . . yet at the moment she felt emotionally ruined for life.
The one consoling fact was that she could run . . . run before something else happened and tempted her to still worse behavior. Before this day was over, she promised, she would find the inner strength to pack and leave, taking a train to Rock Falls and never, ever returning to Washington, D.C. She wouldn't even wait for her severance pay from Senator Blum, the sacrifice of the money owed her worth the anguish of another day in this hellish city. Then once back in the bosom of her family's decency, she might learn to conquer her prurient desires which had seemingly been released from nowhere....
A sudden harsh sound snapped Vicky from her thoughts, and she realized abruptly that somebody was knocking on her door.
"Wh-who's there?" she called out timidly, fearful it might be one of the congressmen, visiting for some God-awful reason.
"Miss Martin? Registered letter."
"Oh!" Vicky walked to the door with inebriated care, opening it on the small safety chain just to make sure it wasn't a trick. A bored man in a blue uniform handed her a plain manila envelope, a receipt form, and a stubby pencil.
"Sign on line four, please," he yawned.
Vicky scrawled her signature, then closed the door before the man had a chance to hold out his palm for a tip. She returned to the chair more curious than ever, inspecting the envelope and finding there was no return address on it. "Now who could this be from . . . ?" she asked herself, ripping the envelope open while sitting down again.
Three of the lewdest photographs she'd ever seen fell out of the envelope and into her lap. Horrified, she picked them up, finding that the girl in them was herself! The first one showed her lying naked on the carpet of Senator Blum's apartment with the Senator hunching over her and hungrily eyeing her pink cunt slit. With a helpless cry of revulsion, Vicky nipped to the second and saw her firmly molded breast being squeezed by the nude politician, his hot, wet mouth nipping at one turgid nipple. She gasped at this obscenity, but the last picture was by far the worst. It showed a full-color shot of thick fleshy penis wedged solidly into her wide-splayed pussy, her face contorted with passion while she arched her buttocks up to receive every inch of the pumping erection.
Vicky fell back, her arm over her eyes, unable to look at the obscene reminders of the previous night. For several minutes she sat that way, unable to believe that they could have been taken, her mind searching for an answer that never came. Finally, fearing she would vomit, she gathered her strength to study them again, blanching anew as she viewed the lust which was so plainly etched on her face in each of them. She glanced in the envelope, afraid there were more, and then saw that there was a small folded piece of paper, a message printed on it. The note read, "If you want the others, come to Room 101 of the Danforth Hotel at seven o'clock promptly. If you don't care what I do with them, then don't show up."
It was unsigned and it wasn't until she'd reread the lines four times that Vicky was able to deduce who'd sent it. It could be only one man, only one man so arrogant and venal that he'd dare to send dirty pictures of a Senator and his secretary through the mails-Representative Jerome K. McHugh! He was the only other one there at the time, the only one who had the opportunity to sneaMly take these filthy photos and use them later for his own despicable ends. But what did he have in mind? McHugh would want something, she didn't doubt that . . but what? She had no money....
And then her stomach knotted and convulsed as if it wished to heave the wines, She suddenly understood. The ghastly truth was that she was going to have to bargain her body to earn the rest of these loathsome, damning snapshots. She felt the blood drain from her face as vivid memories of the elderly politician crouched over her widespread buttocks, his blunt hard penis shoved in her rectum, flooded her mind. Oh my Lord . . . not that again.
She reached for the wine and drank the entire glass down, droplets running loosely from the edges of her mouth. The burning sensation dulled her reeling senses a little, and she poured herself another glass, trying to smother the horrible knowledge that if she wanted to avoid a far worse fate, she would have to go to the hotel. She would have to convince McHugh to return the films, negatives and all, without having to compromise herself too dearly. But she had the most dreadful apprehension that nothing she might say would be enough to satisfy that lecherous old man's degenerate soul....
The streets were dark by the time Vicky taxied up to the entrance of the Danf orth Hotel at seven p.m. The hotel itself, however, was brilliantly lit for it was one of Washington's most celebrated and would be one of the last to go dim from the current power shortage. It took up an entire block, the front having a stone archway and a pseudo-Byzantine courtyard of tile and multicolored plants leading from the sidewalk to the lobby. The lobby was expansive and warm, with a sculptured lady-with-jug standing nude in the middle of a small fountain. Past the fountain was the reception desk, and all around were the social lions of the capital garbed in well-tailored suits and fine evening gowns, the men smoking cigars while their women chattered amongst themselves.
Vicky felt embarrassed and out of place as she walked self-consciously through the ornate lobby. She refused to ask anybody for help, not even the porters who glided among the hotel patrons to empty ashtrays but steadfastly searched for Room 101. Everitually she found it off a side hallway next to a large banquet room whose double doors were closed. There was a great deal of male laughter and bantering which leaked through the doors, but Vicky took no notice of it, her mind centered on only one thing-to see McHugh.
At the door to Room 101 she knocked hesitantly, almost afraid that the representative would be in. But the overwhelming desire to gain those pictures took hold again, and she screwed up her courage to knock harder. After a moment the door opened and Representa* tive McHugh ushered her in.
He was dressed immaculately in a wide-lapeled electric-blue suit, a bow tie perched like a black butterfly against his scrawny neck. "Well, toots," he said as he shut the door behind them, "I see you accepted my invitation."
"I ... I want those pictures." she said, trembling, trying to stifle the quaver in her voice.
"Oh, you liked them?" he asked calmly, maliciously.
Vicky stared at the smoothly grinning congressman, having the most impulsive desire to hit him in the mouth and break those evilly smiling dentures of his. "No! No, of course I didn't! They're the most disgusting things I've ever seen!"
"Well, you might find one you care for yet," McHugh responded casually. "I took thirty-six photos in all."
"Thirty-six!" Vicky's head swirled from the shame and revulsion of knowing there were that many lewd pictures of her nakedly squirming with a man. Sick and desperate, she sucked in her breath and eyed the wicked politician coldly. "Now . . . now you look here. I haven't gone to see Mr. Blum about this yet, but if you don't give me the films, I'll-" "What? Tell him?" McHugh chuckled, shaking his head in a disparaging manner. "It would be unwise of you to do. If you think about the three snaps you have, you'll see that none of them show a full head shot of him. I mean you know who's messing around with you-but by the pictures alone nobody else would! And if it comes down to the nitty-gritty, Alexander is in the same boat with you, and I'm sure youll agree that he'd be quite apt to side with me instead of you."
Vicky was almost sick as she realized that what McHugh was telling her was the truth. Senator Blum had no more scruples than a hyena and would sell her out without batting an eyelash if it meant a gain for him. He had already, hadn't he-and for far less at stake? She attempted one last act of defiance, hoping to frighten McHugh into releasing the photos and leaving her alone. "Then I'll . . . Ill go to the police! To the newspapers! Ill expose you both for what you are: vultures!"
"Hah!" the Representative scoffed. "You call the police? Don't be silly, toots; you're the one in the pictures being fucked! It would be the word of two of America's leading congressmen against that of a flighty young girl who poses for pornography! Now face facts! I've got the pictures. I've got you, if you want to look at it that way, and the only way you'll get those films is to be nice to me, not threatening. Understand?"
Vicky understood, all right. There was little question what he had in mind, but still she sought to play naive. "And if I'm nice to you, what... what does that entail?"
"Why, nothing much," he answered with a wave of his hand. "And then afterward you get the photos back and we forget about the whole thing."
Representative McHugh went over to a marble-topped table and opened a thin, rectangular box, the sort that expensive clothes come in. He held up an open-knit lace baby-doll top, far more revealing than any nightgown she owned. He held it out to her, and she could see that it only had a drawstring at the neck and a hem which would barely come to the tops of her thighs. It was positively indecent!
"Bought this today, especially for you," he purred. "You must admit-it's nothing much!"
"You . . . you want me to wear that?" Vicky gasped.
"Fit you better than it would me, toots." Representative McHugh thrust it toward her impatiently. "Put it on, put it on and then we'll go into the next room for a little show!"
"The other-! You mean in the banquet room? I heard men in there, lots of men! And you want me to-? In front of-?"
"You're catching on. It's a meeting of the Dry Hole Club, and I promised them a special treat. Guess who's the treat, toots?"
Lord no! Even in her wine-distorted mind, Vicky was horrified at allowing herself to contemplate so sordid an idea! "I ... I can't!" she stammered. "I simply can't do it!"
"Oh, yes you can," he coaxed, brandishing the nightie.
"I won't!" she moaned in weak defiance. "One time with you, here . . . here alone in this room is terrible enough, but I won't-" McHugh took three steps toward her and slashed one hand across her face, knocking her back against the wall. Tears sprang to her eyes and a slight trickle of saliva appeared at one corner of her mouth. "You will!" he snarled at her. "You give me any more trouble, and by Jupiter, I'll not only have enough sets of your photos made to blanket the Eastern seaboard, but I'll have them entered as evidence in Blum's own Subcommittee on Pornography and Violence!"
Vicky staggered upright in a state of terrified shock. She dabbed lifelessly at her mouth with the fingers of one hand, wondering dizzily if there was any way to avoid his demands. My God, there was no other choice! If she didn't do what he demanded of her, she would lose the last chance to have a start on a new, wholesome life! Those photos would haunt her wherever she went in the grubby hands of young boys and dirty old men and officially entered in the Congressional Record as part of Senator Blum's investigation into immorality! Intuitively, she knew that Representative McHugh would follow through on his threats, if only to salve that same arrogant pride with which he'd corrupted her last night!
Last night . . . the lurid memory of her own eager submission to the two politicians returned like a ghost, haunting her thoughts as she stared at the elderly representative. She found that despite her revulsion for this depraved old man, she couldn't help wondering if her young body would betray her once again if given the opportunity. What would it be like to parade lewdly in that nightgown in front of a bunch of men? What would she feel like . . . ? Mortified at her obscene notion, she felt her curiosity rising;...
"Okay," she whimpered in defeat, pressing her thighs tightly together in a determined effort to cancel the momentary flash of shameful temptation. "Okay, you win. But I want the pictures first."
"No dice, toots," McHugh sneered. "They're my insurance that you'll perform as ordered."
"How . . . how do I know you'll give them to me if I do?"
"Why you can trust me," he said with oiliness. "After all, I'm an honest and upright congressman, elected by the people! Here- now put it on and stop wasting time!"
McHugh watched with growing lechery as the young blonde girl began to undress. Vicky averted her crimsoning face, feeling the man's eyes like a solid force lashing her body as she peeled off her coat, sweater, and pants. Reluctantly she unsnapped her brassiere and released her fjrm, quivering breasts and then sucked in her breath and rolled her clean pair of thin panties down over her trembling thighs and buttocks. She wished fervently for another drink . . . something far stronger than the wine, to deaden the unwanted sense of obscene anticipation which was slowly creeping through her cringing flesh.
Totally naked now, she snatched the baby-doll top from Representative McHugh's fingers and quickly draped its delicate fabric overher breasts and hips. A familiar tingle of yearning began to tease through her loins as she moaned under the shame of what she was being blackmailed into doing. She fought against the slight, insidious prurience, but the mere contemplation of indecently exposing herself in front of a group of voyeuristic men pursued her thoughts with inexorable force. She had never felt so humiliated and degraded, not even when she'd fled the Senator's apartment last night, and she couldn't understand how she could stand here and be even slightly stimulated with forbidden urges. Dear Lord, what had she let herself become? A tear rolled gently down one cheek as Representative McHugh guided her across Room 101 to the connecting door that led to the banquet hall . . . and the group of oilmen waiting impatiently.
Representative McHugh swung open the door between the two rooms, propelling Vicky through to the larger one with his hand gripping her right arm firmly. A ginger grin of triumph spread across his face as he looked at the assemblage of rich oil lobbyists.
"Well, boys, I promised you a little plum to make up for that slight setback in Congress."
"Slight!" came a derisive hoot from the back. "That setback cost me over fifty grand so far!"
"Now, now," McHugh said in a placating tone. "It wasn't for the lack of trying, Sam. But that's neither here nor there-what- is here, as you can all see, is a vivacious beauty for our very own-and I might add, very private-entertainment tonight."
"Looks young enough to be my daughter!" another snickered.
"Might just be, Ronson," a third man jibed. "It might just be a that!"
"Can't be!" laughed still a fourth. "She's too innocent, this one here! Any kid of Ron-son's been humping since she was old enough to bleed!"
Everybody roared and hooted and Vicky cringed with humiliation and dread, wishing all these terrible people would suddenly vanish.
It was more foul than she'd feared. The banquet room was square, painted a pastel yellow and decorated with prints of landscapes and flowers and dominated by a large wooden table set squarely in the middle of the parquet floor. The table was littered with glasses and liquor bottles, ice buckets and water pitchers and overflowing ashtrays and above it all hung a cloying blue smog of stale tobacco smoke.
Around the table were large red leather armchairs, and in the chairs lounged a half-dozen men. The six were more or less middle-aged, dressed expensively in suits of various bad tastes, some of them tall and some of them short, a few thin but most of them fat, all of them bleary-eyed and jowly with lewd expressions as they feasted their eyes on her barely covered breasts and pussy. And all of them uniformly repulsive as far as she was concerned.
"Come on, Jerome," the man called Sam called out. "Introduce us, will you?"
McHugh pushed Vicky forward toward the table of men. "Patience, my boys. As Frank was so observant as to point out, Miss Martin is new to this game and virtually innocent. Virgin territory, you might say. So let's not be too harsh on our star performer-at least not until she's properly warmed up!"
"Whatfll that take?" a hook-nosed man asked. "A blowtorch?"
"Enough excuses, you old coon!" Ronson shouted over the laughter. "Let's see more action than we've gotten in Congress!"
"Take if off! Boom! Boom!" another chanted raucously.
"Let's get to the screwing!" the fattest man prompted.
Vicky quivered, her eyes swelling with tears as she prayed for a miracle to save her. These obscene oilmen were all going to rape her in full view of one another! They were going to fill her belly with their despoiling cum until she screamed for surrender, showing her no more mercy than Senator Blum or Representative McHugh had done last night! She swallowed the wild urge to claw at the congressman's face as he tugged her closer to the men. She couldn't . . . she had to have those pictures! There wasn't any other choice, no matter what they did.
"All right, so the show will begin," McHugh announced proudly. "Up on the table, toots. Go on, climb up there and show us all what you've got... or else!"
Vicky wanted to die of mortification, using one of the empty chairs to climb up on the table as commanded. She cowered as she stood there, her arms vainly trying to cover as much of her as she could, feeling her nudity as a great humiliating blanket But in the back of her mind shuddered the threat of McHugh's or else, and so she submitted with out protest or hesitation. Just live through this hell and then be free.
"Now, toots, figure you're on stage. A burlesque stage like in Baltimore, right? It's stag night and your audience is crying for action, right? So act, toots, act! Do a little hoochie-koochie dance for us!"
Vicky bit into the flesh of her lower lip, trying to choke back her shame. Burlesque . . . stag night . . . Lord, she was to be treated no better than a tramp at a smoker! She groaned, beginning to undulate her lithe young body in a Frug-like dance step before the whole lusting group of men, knowing that the way the light was striking her baby-doll top, all of them could see her nakedly illuminated as she squirmed her body beneath it.
But as she rotated her thighs and thrust out her breasts, Vicky couldn't help feeling a slowly rising tendril of unwanted arousal beginning deep in her belly. The thought of her hopeless entrapement and her soon-to-come ravishment brought tiny ripples of strange excitement tingling through her nerves, and she realized she was experiencing the same prurient wantonness which had tempted her while changing into the baby-doll. Against her will, her proud, firm breasts perked into warm, taut roundness, their pink little nipples gradually erecting against the skimpy silken top.
She quickened her motions, wriggling her buttocks in a suggestive manner, feeling lewdly denied by her obscene exhibitionism. The mere thought of these heavy breathing men staring at her nearly bare flesh sent new churnings of erotic sensation teasing upwards from her loins, and Vicky could sense involuntary moisture forming in the soft, blonde-fringed lips of her cunt slit.
"Now take off the baby-dolls, toots! Take 'em off!"
Vicky's tongue darted out and softly licked her lips, moistening them as she gradually untied the drawstring around her neck. Ever so slowly she slipped each shoulder through the satiny top, and then let the translucent sheath gradually slip downward over her jutting breasts until it fell to a puddle around her bare feet. She heard the delighted gasps from the men and could sense their leering eyes moving up and down over her body from the swell of her breasts to the sensual rise of her hips and the golden-haired crevice of her pubic mound. She stood passively for a moment, feeling sinful and dirty at standing totally naked in front of everyone . . . but then the knowledge that she was sent more taunting excitement up through her fully exposed body. Unconscious of what she was doing at first, the nubile young girl lifted her arms above her head, pirouetting in a circle and feeling oddly delighted at being the focal point for their salacious gazes.
"On the table!" McHugh directed from his seat. "Lie down on the table on your back and spread your legs! Yeah . . . and then play with that tight little cunt of yours while we watch you do it!"
A whimper escaped from the embarrassed girl's mouth as she slowly lowered herself to the cold hard wooden surface. "Oh Lord . . . not that!" she mewled, the very helplessness of her situation excusing away the weird sensations that were gradually building in her belly and thighs. "Not masturbation!"
"Yes! Yes!" the venerable representative ordered harshly. "Stuff your middle finger in your twat and make yourself all nice and hot for us! And remember ... if you don't, you don't get what you want!"
The pictures! She must have those films at all cost! Gently the girl began to run her fingertips over her full, hardening breasts, playing softly with her nipples and feeling goosebumps prickling all long her naked skin. In spite of her loathing toward manipulating herself in front of all these feasting eyes, she felt unwanted shivers of indecent pleasure starting to travel through her flesh. She'd geared her mind for a more sudden savage attack by these sadistic men, but having to fondle her own pussy was different. It was unexpected and subtle and made her all the more conscious of her awakening passions.
Pressing the outside of her knees flat against the table top, Vicky drew her thighs as far up as she could, forcing her legs in an obscene crab-like position which exposed the moistening pink slit of her vagina to the group of lobbyists. She slipped her middle finger down between the soft blonde curls of pubic hair and parted the fleshy lips of her swelling cunt, sliding her hand along the plainly visible crevice of her tight, throbbing pussy.
"Lord, it isn't fair," she moaned through her gritting teeth. "It isn't fair ... it isn't right...."
"But it's fun to watch!" one of the oilmen nearby shouted.
"Right!" came another hoarse cry. "Fuck yourself, baby, fuck yourself wild!"
"More! More!"
Vicky teased her fingers along the tender parts of her widespread pussy, working her way up the full length of her narrow, wet slit to the tiny bud of her exposed clitoris. She flicked the sensitive nodule and felt it jerk, and with a gasp she found her gently undulating buttocks reaching upward to receive more of her sensual caresses. The split of her thighs involuntarily widened to the view of her gathered tormentors, and the men sighed lustily when she moved her hand downward and eased it into the flexing hollow of her vaginal mouth. She began to pump her finger in and out as if it were a tiny, thin penis, the tight cunt muscles delighting from her touch and screwing further against her hand to gain more of her indecent probe.
Her toes squirmed below her self-fucking finger, no more able to resist the exquisite torture than the rest of her fresh young body was. She shut her eyes as she fought against the prurient excitement she was generating through her loins, but her own quickening hand pursued and tantalized her tingling breasts and warmly clasping pussy. An excited moan escaped her mouth as, unwillingly, she couldn't contain her rising emotions, and she surrendered to the lewd self-debasement which flowed over her defenselessly performing body. She rolled dementedly in the pleasure her thrashing middle finger was causing the now moistly swollen cunt lips, pressing her knees back hard against her jiggling breasts and wildly jerked her uptilted buttocks in tempo to her public masturbation. It was all so obscene ... so totally depraved . . . and she moaned in abandoned wantonness.
The oil lobbyist named Frank groaned in concert, unable to contain his excitement any longer. "Christ, Jerome, ain't she ready to go yet? She looks hot enough to fry an egg on that box of hers!"
"Yeah," the man beside him grunted, "whaddya want her to do-boil away?"
Representative McHugh mopped his perspiring brow with a handkerchief, his own face flushed from the lust-stimulating performance in front of him. "Yeah, boys, I guess you're right. First one outa his clothes gets her! Now... everybody strip naked!"
Chapter Seven
The six oilmen pushed back their chairs in a mad scramble to be the first one undressed. Ties and shirts, shoes and socks and underwear were thrown helter-skelter in the men's haste to replace the masturbating girl's finger in her eager young cunt. The one called Ron-son won the race by popping all the buttons off his shirt and suit jacket, and the losers all groaned good-naturedly as he stood proudly displaying his long, thick erection.
Ronson vaulted on to the table, his potbelly quivering as he grabbed Vicky's knees and forced them sharply down and apart. Vicky whimpered, removing her hand and exposing all of the moist lushness of her tender pussy to his lustful scrutiny.
"Wooee!" Ronson exclaimed. "Why, her little ol' twat looks fairly begging for my prick! See how she screams and twists when she gets a taste of it, you guys!"
Vicky trembled under the prodding of the older man's obscene remarks, tormented by the fear that his threat might come true! But no . . . no, it couldn't happen! Even as aroused as she was by her own finger-fucking, she couldn't actually respond to this perfect stranger .... and then all these other crude, overbearing men as well! She quivered half in dread and half in a perverse sense of cringing anticipation as she watched the oil lobbyist lever up over her body. Ronson dropped one hand down between their naked loins and guided his hardened cock in between the full, twitching lips of her wetly heated cunt. She held her breath as she felt his first inquisitive contact with the throbbing orifice of her pussy.
And then with a grin of sheer lust, Ronson thrust his fleshy hips downward and his raging penis slid deep into her waiting vagina like a bronco busting out of a stall. There was no stopping him until he completely filled her entire belly and his bulging testicles smacked loudly against her cowering thighs.
"Oh! Oh Lord!" Vicky cried out beneath the heavy-set man. He grunted crazily with his insane need to fuck her, and began humping into her with flesh-flattening lunges. "Oh! Oh, wait! Oh, please stop!" But her screams of shame and torment only seemed to urge him on to greater efforts, and he bored his thick, skewering erection faster and harder into the tightly clinging channel of her sensitive young cunt.
And to her humiliation, Vicky discovered the salicious hungers which had been plaguing her all along immediately began to creep back up inside her loins. Her vaginal passage felt on fire ... a gradually pleasurable fire which made her moan and writhe beneath his heaving pelvis. The oilman increased his unbearable thrustings with brutal intensity, and with each lunging stroke he made into her, Vicky could feel her resistance and fear ebbing like an irreversible tide. Tears of frustration brimmed her eyes as she felt the maddening temptations once more reverberating through her defenseless belly, and sensed the control of her emotions slipping away from her again. As he continued to fuck rapaciously into her hotly responding pussy, her inner thighs flexed around his driving hips on their own, and her rebellious buttocks undulated as her legs drew up and locked automatically around his calves. No . . . no, she couldn't let this happen to her....
But why not? Her sensation-filled mind droned on tormentedly. Why not enjoy the erotic desires she was feeling against her will? Ronson and Representative McHugh and all the others here wanted her to be a sluttish whore, and there didn't seem to be a way to avoid her fate. There was no longer any reason to fight the avid flames of thrill coursing through her blood. She had lost the battle against these obscene men, and even the agonizing thought of her total surrender sent chills running through her involuntarily responding body. Her entire being twisted and wrenched beneath the fucker as she submitted to the delicious rhythm of his penis drilling wetly into her, her shame and degradation complete and all hope gone.
"Ohhhh, harder!" she hissed through her teeth, tears gushing down her cheeks as she heard herself beg for more. The young girl spread her thighs back wider, the moist, open mouth of her cock-welcoming pussy eager to receive all of his manhood to greater and greater depths. The words welled up in her, and she couldn't stop the obscenities now as they sprang from her contorted lips. "Fuck me ... ohhhh, fuck me, fuck me harder ... !"
As if in apology, Ronson rammed his tongue in her mouth, and he felt the blonde girl suck thirstily at his warm saliva in straining frenzy, her nubile body caught up in a whirlpool of raw sensation as he pistoned his cock unmercifully into her milking loins. The rapid poundings of his muscular hips against her youthful pubic mound resounded noisily through the banquet room, and Vicky could sense that her climax was nearing ... nearing closer, closer.
And then as she bucked uncontrollably up against the stranger, she felt his plunging cock stiffen without warning and spurt its obscene cum far up into the recesses of her flowering womb. Vicky moaned in frustration, for he had orgasmed too soon, leaving her overwhelmed with unsatisfied desire. She squeezed up against his deflating hardness, crying out as she had the night before . . . but just as Senator Blum had done then, Ronson rolled away from her with a happy smile on his face.
"Ohhh . . . ohhh." The naked blonde secretary writhed in unrequited lust, and all she wanted was to feel the deliciousness of another man fucking into her. She wanted her belly filled with vast, swirling pools of obscene sperm and feel it burning as she lewdly climaxed. "I want more!" she sobbed hysterically. "Somebody! Anybody! I want more! Fuck me!"
Another heavy body flowed over the girl then, and once more Vicky was lost in the perverted, unceasable drive for her orgasm. She fitted his thick, long penis into the entrance of her pink-lipped pussy with a frantic desperation, and gyrated her starving young cunt wildly up against this pumping man she'd never seen before and would never see again. She felt his panting breath upon her cheeks, and the stubble of his unshaved chin as he ground his hardened cock painfully deep into her vagina. He gasped and groaned and blew liquored breath, and Vicky sensed she was close again . . . close to her cumming. But the second stranger came even more quickly than Ronson had. And once more she felt the warm rush of smoky air against her fevered loins as he left her sprawled upon the table.
Before she could protest or beg for more, the thin, angular man named Sam leaped up and gripped her ankles, thrusting them up until her knees were hard against her breasts again. She lay entirely open, her hairlined pussy slit wide and wetly gleaming, and then he lurched into her, ramming his slender erection deep into her sperm-filled cunt with a violent thrust.
"Ahhh!" Vicky wailed as she felt the lust-quenching hardness sliding the length of her tightly clinging vagina. Sam's lean body quivered as he fucked repeatedly into the girl, his slim hips swinging against the tender flesh of her upraised cuntal crevice. His blood-swollen cock-head battered against her cervix like the blunt end of a spear, making her writhe hot and delirious in her quest for completion. "Yes, oh yes! Fuck harder! Fuck me hard and fast!"
Once again she was almost ready to cum and could not stop. Tiny relentless devils danced in her belly as she strove wildly for her end under the middle-aged oil lobbyist ... an end which was not only an infinitesimal second away....
But the young blonde's lust-crazed passions proved too much for this older man as well, and clamping his mouth tightly down on one of her breasts, he started a long, low groan of climax. His hot liquid seed spewed out where the others had cum, and she could feel it jet into her pussy in great virile torrents, deflating his penis with each spasmodic throb. She was still seconds away!
"Nooo! Wait! Wait!" she sobbed as Sam flopped from between her still-gyrating thighs and crawled exhaustedly back to his chair. And then through the dulled screen of her smut-filmed eyes, Vicky watched eagerly as another man took his place. "That's it, Orvil!" she heard someone urge. "Sock it to her! Sock it to her the way she likes it!"
"That broad is some ride!" Sam wheezed breathlessly from where he slouched depleted. "And that's a fact!"
"Well, I'm just the rider to break her in!" the gross, sweaty oilman named Orvil crowed, and he surged his mammoth hardness into the naked girl's over-filled cunt, bouncing her hard up and down on the wooden table top. The new and different penis hurt more than the others, for it was quite a bit fatter in girth than the rest, but she knew she would hurt still more before this evening was over. She was incapable of controlling either the men or her own spiraling need for orgasm, and the series of fucks she was receiving was rubbing the sensitive walls of her pussy acutely raw. But that never caused an instant's hesitation now, and she arched beneath his hammering loins, spreading her legs wide and deliberately giving the rest of the Dry Hole members a provocative view of her slender, hair-fringed vaginal slit. The others crowded around the table, peering intently at Orvil's thundering cock, amazed at the sight of her tight young cunt greedily swallowing the whole of his enormous erection.
Vicky couldn't have cared less who was watching. "Ohhh, you damned bastard! Fuck me! Fuck meee!" she begged. She was approaching that elusive orgasm again, and her wildly aroused body rocked to and fro to spur the slobbering lobbyist on to greater effort. Oh Lord, she had been so close to climax before that with this huge cock in her, it didn't take long! With the thick, expanding penis digging into her cunt like an implacable jackhammer, the cords on her neck suddenly tightened in an unmistakable sign.
"I . . . I'm dimming! Oh God ... I'm cummmming! Fuck harder! Fuck me harder, whoever you are, and cum too ...!"
Vicky swung her thighs up and clasped the hefty man's hips with the backs of her calves, winding her ivory legs around his humping body. Her ankles locked tightly high on his back, screwing her ravenously hungry cunt up the full length of his burrowing cock. Her orgasmic juices flowed out in her maniacal frenzy, flowing down the crevice of her buttocks to slicken the surface of the table. Above her, Orvil fucked into her pussy like a pile-driving machine while Vicky continued to moan out her long-awaited climax. She could feel the hot waves of his brutal sperm abruptly shooting up into her flooded cunt, mixing lasciviously with the virile pool the other men had throbbed into her before. Her head whirled in depraved sensuality as the hot, powerful spurts of cum filled her to the bursting point with sticky wetness. The searing walls of her rubbed-raw vagina clasped and unclasped desperately, sucking at the ejaculating penis like the mouth of a starving waif.
Groaning in completion, the obese oilman finally collapsed over her trembling body, flattening them both to the table. After a few seconds, the insanely ravaged girl felt his weight lifting from her and the softness of his limp cock slipping from the confines of her well-raped pussy. She let her arms and legs fall in comatose satisfaction, feeling sore and wet and totally used, but nowhere near the terror she had experienced at the beginning.
"No more," she moaned in defensive agony. "Please ... no more. Let me rest . . . please let me rest. . . . My pussy is so filled and it aches so much...."
Her feeble pleas were directed as much to herself as to the ring of naked, panting men surrounding the table, for she knew that despite this climax, her flesh was demanding more, lewdly ever for more. She had to stop herself from accepting another obscenely battering cock, before she killed herself with them!
"No more...."
Representative McHugh grinned with cruel, salacious desire as he saw the servile girl sprawled half-delirious on the wooden surface. No more? Christ, she had to he crazy! This blonde child was undoubtedly the most insatiable piece of ass he'd ever encountered in all his sixty-nine years! Holy hell, you couldn't wear her cunt out . . . and she's begging for no more? His knobby penis quivered with erect interest, and he clawed his way onto the table, crawling on all fours to between her exhausted thighs.
"No more, toots?" he cackled down at her. "That's what you think! Spread those legs wide, I'm climbing aboard!"
Vicky Martin looked up through the narrow, hazy slits of her passion-smoked eyes, seeing the elderly congressman's wrinkled features beadily leering down at her from between her wide-stretched loins. She shuddered in confusion, torn between the scorching desires that were already rejuvenating in her insatiable pussy, and the shame and guilt which flickered through her tormented mind. She glanced momentarily around her in a cringing expression for help . . . but all she saw were the horridly excited faces and the cruel glinting eyes of the other men. They were all eagerly anticipating the further ravishment of her tender young flesh . . . and in response, the lewd fires of uncontained lust which had been irrevocably kindled in these two nights of depravity burned brighter than ever in her wanton belly.
"Fuck me, then," she hissed up at the hovering representative. "Fuck me, you ancient fart-you can't do any more to me than you have already!"
She curled her open legs around his withered hips as he pressed the bluntness of his swollen cock into her ready-welcome cunt. McHugh drove forward with a raspy grunt, impaling her again on his rigid erection, while the young girl of less than a third his age contracted the muscles of her aching vagina and began a slow rhythmic rotation of her buttocks that seemed to last forever and ever. There was no longer reality for her, just the pleasure and animal groans drifting down from the naked congressman fucking her into the cold wood of the banquet table.
After that, she no longer had any conception of time or personalities, but fucked and even sucked as she was directed by the various men. Vicky was beyond any emotion, her flesh reacting with orgasm after orgasm, but her strength having left her until she mechanically obeyed their every whim. She was an unthinking tool for their perverted satisfactions, weakly moving her body to comply with their rapacious demands. It didn't matter any more. There was nothing left in her world now, and she knew without questioning that she was truly enjoying the lewd debasement and couldn't care less what Representative McHugh did with those pictures now. He could stuff them up his ass if he wanted to.... She had passed the point of no return.
Chapter Eight
Vicky Martin dropped the clean gossamer robe from around her trim, naked body, climbing onto the big brass bed and lying open-thighed on her back. She tweaked the pink-hued nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, teasing them into tiny hard buds that captured the man's eyes immediately. She could see the gleam of desire in his handsome features as he took a hesitant step toward the bed.
"If you want to fuck me, Senator, you have to take off your trousers," she told him in a sultry voice. "Come on, take them off or leave."
"Jesus," Senator Blum groaned. "You have certainly changed, Vicky."
"Thanks to you," she retorted evenly. "You and that bald-headed wonder, Representative McHugh." Vicky slid lower on the coverlet, undulating her buttocks and scissoring her thighs apart in lewd invitation. "Now, if you want me, take off your pants. Oh yea . . . and place a hundred on the bureau. In small bills, please."
"But before-" "That was before, Senator. Now it's no money, no fuckee."
With her fingers, she spread the lips of her vagina open slowly, the moist, tantalizing flesh of her narrow pussy visible to him as she gently parted the soft blonde hair up between her legs. Another gasp came from the white-haired solon who'd once been her employer, as he quickly stripped off his pants and under-shorts and walked stiff-legged to the bed. He was still wearing his black socks, but Vicky couldn't have minded if he were deaf, dumb, and wearing armorplate. Senator Blum was just another customer to her now, contributing to her bank account.
She glanced up toward the wall of her luxurious bedroom of her new downtown apartment as the older politician hunched up between her waiting thighs. She idly inspected the thirty-six framed photographs which Representative McHugh had once taken of her, and which after that brutal night with the Dry Hole members, he'd given to her as a well-earned token of his esteem. She'd gained them thinking she'd keep them a secret; now she displayed them with pride, and as advertising for her trade.
Lord . . . her old life was almost a dim memory now, even though it had changed only a few short weeks ago. Once innocent and naive, she'd been battered and abused until she learned that there weren't any percentages in being good. Now it was her turn to make the fat-cat politicians of Washington grovel, just as she'd once had to do for Senator Blum and Congressmann McHugh. And with Blum here and paying through the nose for a little of her pussy, she planned to make him really squirm . . . he'd treated her like a whore until she'd become a whore.
And then she felt the Senator's hips jerk toward her, and the familiar tip of his thick cock begin to slide up between the open pink softness of her.