In this fast modern world, many books are dated before they come off the press. But not so - 'A Sisterly Obsession,' another searing story from the pen of Morgan Savage.
In this dizzying pace of civilization, people are continually being assaulted with new facts and discoveries that attack and tear down old and cherished beliefs. Motion pictures and all media are exploring new and forbidden themes endlessly and, apparently, without shame or reservation.
In this novel, author Savage boldly and candidly examines the 'new morality' if it can be called that. Whether or not we approve, there are many people in our society who are openly exploring hitherto forbidden themes, ideas, desires, and practices. What was once only hinted at is now explored and revealed, in detail. The author spares no words in descriptions in vividly portraying people such as Martin and
Joni Peach who go way beyond decency, even beyond the imaginable in their quest for kicks and thrills.
The fact that such people exist at all cannot be proven. The fact that such 'centers' exist, such places where 'sensitivity training' and 'awareness courses' take place cannot be denied. All one has to do is pick up a paper or magazine to read about them.
What really goes on at such private institutions is boldly and honestly told, with all the hypocrisy and public relations camouflage ripped away.
Mr. Savage purposely tries not to take sides or draw moral conclusions, deciding that his job is simply to bare the truth - "tell it like it is" and let the reader decide for himself if such an abandoned and hedonistic life is for him.
There will be the cynics who say, after reading A Sisterly Obsession that such a place doesn't or couldn't exist. To these doubters, all the publishers can say is: in order to know, you must do what author Savage did, which was go to the source. The publishers feel they are rendering a service to those curious enough by warning of the pitfalls in advance. Caveat emptor. "Let the buyer beware."
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Lee Driscoll stood by the drapes, looking out over his lawn into the yard next door. Sara was in the kitchen, cooking, and he kept one ear tuned to the noises she made, the daily newspaper in hand, ready to spin from the window and sit down, pretending he was reading, if she should call to him or come in the room.
He just had to get another look at that wild broad across the way. Ever since he had seen her strutting and leaning over to pluck a flower, he had been obsessed with her. Joni Peach was her name. It had been two nights before when he had first seen her, reaching for a cigarette when he accidentally caught sight of some movement out of the corner of his eye. Sara had been in the kitchen, turning on the dishwasher and straightening up. Lee had craned to see the most voluptuous woman he had seen in a long time, sauntering, hips undulating, squirming, seeming to flirt with the air around her as she moved slowly across the lawn.
Lee had stood up and stood near the drapes and followed her movements with a quickening pulse and a throbbing in his groin. Joni Peach didn't so much walk across her lawn as she wiggled and shook in all the right places in a slow tantalizing way. Lee took her figure in with an open mouth. She was wearing a pair of the shortest pair of play pants he had ever seen on a girl. High heels, the pants, some kind of halter and a flimsy, sleeveless blouse was all she was wearing.
Her legs. Lee caught his breath and she untangled a hose, stepping over a portion of it. Her legs were long and white and incredibly developed. Standing in high heels showed her full and rounded calves and her long, sensuously smooth thighs that rippled when she walked. She must have gotten into the shorts by dropping into them, they were so tight that they rode high on the sides of her hips, revealing the smooth movement of her thigh sockets under the flesh bulging and pinched by the tightness of her shorts. They pulled and pinched up between her legs and outlined her pussy, her dark, soft, mysterious loins that moved - ever so slightly, provocatively - with each step.
But it just wasn't her beautiful legs. The rest of her body was an unadulterated invitation to lust and carnal heat. And her face, that face radiated a sensuousness, a lazy, smoky lust that smoldered in her half closed eyes and was reflected in her full-lipped fleshy smile. Her face was beautiful and heavily made up, framed by wild, thick, auburn hair. Lee caught her delicate sexual profile as she went by. And her breasts. Her breasts were huge; almost too big. Yet just right, riding high over a thin waist that curved up and filled out with her breasts like twin honeydew melons: juicy, firm, ripe. Just right for holding in your hands and nibbling all over them, Lee thought as he saw them jiggle and bunch with each step she took across the lawn.
Lee grunted and wiped his mouth nervously as he saw her stand with her back to him. Her buttocks were wide, not too wide, but wide enough and full and firm. And, from the way the twin cheeks undulated, rising, bunching, billowing, they seemed to contain some great heat, something wet and slippery, some happy hot place full of searing pleasure that Lee, at that moment, wanted desperately to put his cock, now growing hard, deep into. Slowly, she was bending over, her buttocks right before him and Lee stood with his nose to the glass, his breath fogging the pane. Joni Peach slowly bent over and the crotch band of her tight shorts rode up, biting into the soft warm flesh of her buttock cheeks and Lee almost groaned as he thought he saw the soft yielding outline of her vagina tight against the cloth. The cheeks of her buttocks broke free and peeked out, showing Lee an aching, lovely view. The luscious woman seemed bent over for an interminable period and Lee felt a racing in his loins as he realized his own wife would soon be through in the kitchen and might come in the living room at any minute.
Yet he couldn't tear himself away from his neighbor's invitingly lewd appearance as she bent from the waist and uncoiled the water hose while her buttocks squirmed and ground sensuously around behind her. Finally, standing, she reached behind and Lee watched as her thumb and forefinger almost teasingly, it seemed, pulled her shorts down over her high supple buttocks and slowly, as if she knew a man was watching her, she ran the palms of her hands up and down her thighs and Lee felt his cock rock hard. "Dear?" Sara called from the kitchen.
"Yes, love?" he had said, retreating softly from the window and sitting in his chair, trying to look casual as he lit his cigarette with trembling fingers.
By all outward appearances, Lee Driscoll was a lucky and successful young man. He had met, wooed, and married Sara Crane. She had everything: education, good looks, and plenty of money. Sara had more of everything than most people. She had enjoyed her own inherited trust income, a very good one, ever since she had come of age. Physically, she didn't have to take a backseat to anyone, her blue eyed, raven hair beauty exactly right on her short, petite body that was full breasted and hipped. She had once, in college, been talked into a beauty contest and had accepted and thought a cinch to win until she withdrew, at her father's insistence.
Her father was a very powerful man in business and politics and when he gave his blessings on the marriage, Lee Driscoll was set for life. He moved into a good corner office of a bank as vice president after the honeymoon. The honeymoon was financed by Sara's father as was the furnishing of their house which was an outright dowry gift to the two of them.
Lee Driscoll had it made. He was young, handsome, personable, owned a good home, had a good job and future and a wife that many a friend looked at with barely disguised admiration and physical desire.
And, at that moment, Lee would have gladly traded it all, everything, his young wife included, for fifteen minutes in bed with their neighbor, Joni Peach.
Why? Because Lee made a great discovery on his wedding night. Even in the garden of Eden, all is not right. Even though he had everything in the world, he had nothing. His young, voluptuous bride was frightened and cold. Their courtship had been very proper and sedate. She came from a good and important family; their names and pictures were appearing constantly on the society page. Soon, as Lee squired Sara around more consistently, his picture, eyes wide, smiling, began turning up in the evening editions, his arm around the smiling Crane girl, looking so clean and classy and desirable. Lee was a mode of manners and decorum all through their courtship and Sara seemed pleased with the attention he paid her. Lee bided his time, being careful, showing just enough passion then holding his desire in check. Nights before they were married were spent with Lee tossing and turning in his bed, finally falling asleep with the pillows knotted in his fists, dreaming wild dreams of camp fires, smoke, and a naked and passionate Sara, Crane in his arms, begging him unashamedly to fuck her half to death.
Lee couldn't help his feelings anymore than a bee can help flying or a dying man fighting for one last breath. Lee was lustful and sexual beyond any admittance. He loved sex and his lone hours were filled with increasingly wild and lewd fantasies about their wedding night and what they would do together.
And he was thinking them now as he stood by the window, listening for his wife in the kitchen and trying to catch a glimpse of Joni Peach once again. His mind was full of images of the carnal and lewd things he would do only, this time, he wasn't doing them with his wife, Sara, he was doing them with his neighbor, well-stacked Mrs. Peach and he was doing them with her right on the lawn, right where anyone could see.
Joni Peach. What a name, he thought. It fits her. Since the first time he had seen her, he had been unable to get her out of his mind. Casually, the next morning, while eating breakfast, he had said, "I haven't seen our new neighbors yet? Have you?"
Sara made a face, wrinkling her nose. "I forgot. I met them the other day. Invited me over for a drink."
Lee ate his cereal, trying to look calm as he imagined Joni inviting him over. He would have hurdled the hedge, tennis style. "Did you go?"
Sara raised her eyebrows and looked down at him. "Cocktails? A drink? At lunch time?"
"Oh," Lee managed, averting his eyes. "I see." He saw only too clearly. It simply was not, in his wife's world, ever proper to have a drink before evening and then only one. There was a way to do everything for Sara and the way was proper and respectable. She seemed to move through life conscious that her every thought and action was being scrutinized by some sort of moralizing God. Sara stood proud, and proper, before everyone. She was always charming and attentive and did things the proper way. Even in bed. They had been married almost six months and had made love exactly six times. Once for each month.
And Lee, Lee Driscoll, the envy of all who knew him, was going crazy.
"What are they like?" he asked, trying to find out more.
Sara buttered her toast and gave him an indulgent smile. "I think I've already given you a good idea of what they're like."
"What are their names?"
She bit an end off her toast and chewed delicately before swallowing. "Martin and Joni Peach, if you can imagine."
Lee nodded. He was imagining her right that minute. "What does he do?"
Sara frowned. "I don't know and frankly, I'm not sure I want to know."
"What do you mean?"
She looked thoughtful as if a vague, unpleasant taste were in her mouth. "I'm not sure. That sounds awful, I know. I don't know what made me say it."
"You must have some idea."
"Well," she waved a hand and gave a little laugh. "Let's say I just don't think they're our kind of people."
Lee grunted. "What does that mean?"
"Well, you know, they seemed just a little too flashy."
Lee stopped eating and looked at her. "Flashy? How?"
"Oh, the way they talk and dress and ... I don't know ... kind of brazen and ... well, they suggest things to me."
Lee didn't take his eyes from her face as he asked, a devil-throb starting in his sex-starved groin. "What kind of things?"
Sara laughed and shrugged. "Perhaps I'm being silly and old-fashioned but, well, I don't like the way he looked at me and the way they acted together."
"What do you mean?" Lee asked, pretending to be concerned.
"Oh, don't get the wrong idea. He didn't make a pass or anything like that. It was just the way he looked at me."
"How?" Lee sat forward, intently interested now.
Sara gave a long condescending sigh and began her story. "They came over through the yard and knocked on the door and introduced themselves as our neighbors and I naturally invited them into our kitchen and they invited me to come on over and have a drink. I declined, telling them I had a lot to do and they understood and we talked a little and they left."
Lee sat chewing on his cereal and finally swallowed. "Is that all?" "Well, yes."
"Well, what's wrong with that?" "Nothing, really."
"Maybe they were just being neighborly. Maybe they really would have been shocked if you had accepted their invitation for a drink."
Slowly, smugly, Sara shook her head.
"How come?"
"Both of them had already been drinking. I could smell it on them. And, it was the way they acted. Brazen. I mean, he just stood here and mentally undressed me. Stripped me naked. And her. She just leaned against the counter over there, half naked and the two of them were exchanging knowing glances. I mean, I had the silly idea that something was going on, something more than just a casual visit."
Lee felt his cock swelling and he tried to keep any edge of emotion out of his voice as he asked, "What do you mean?"
"Well, frankly, like I was being cased."
"Cased?"
"Like I was a piece of merchandise or something. Once, conversation stopped and they were both smiling at me in the most brazen and upsetting way and then they exchanged a long look and his wife, Joni, stuck her tongue out at him and said, 'Eat your heart out, baby.' " "And what did he say?"
"He just grinned and stuck his tongue back out at her in a most obscene way." "What? How?"
"Never mind. She behaved terribly. I wish we hadn't brought this up," his wife said, irritated, 'getting up. "I just wanted to forget the whole thing."
"Well, what? What did she do?" "Never mind."
Lee got up. "Sara, what did she do? Don't leave me hanging this way."
Sara passed a hand over her eyes. "When he stuck his tongue out, she slid hers out and wiggled it around while she made a disgusting, kind of sucking sound and ... and ... well, gyrated her hips while he watched and grinned. It was disgusting. People who act like that are not much better than animals."
Lee tried his best to look thoughtful as he did at the bank whenever anyone asked him a question. "I see what you mean. Perhaps it would be best if we did our best to politely but firmly remain distant and cool."
His wife touched his hand warmly. "Darling, I'm so glad you feel that way."
"Perhaps I should make a few polite and discreet inquiries about them? Nothing more than what is privileged information to bankers."
Sara looked thoughtful. "Perhaps. You could find out if they're renting or buying. That might have some bearing on our attitude about them."
"Right." And Lee had gone to work with a studied nonchalance. He came home that night with all the information he could get.
The Peaches had opened a sizable checking and savings account in a rival bank. Martin Peach was a clinical psychologist. He had written three books and had apparently set up two highly successful and lucrative 'encounter centers'. Just what went on at the centers was vague, but Martin Peach came across on the record as a successful and respected psychologist. Somewhat radical and progressive in his ideas, but honest and his credit rating was excellent. Lee could find out little about his wife other than the fact that they were married in California at his center a little over a year ago. They had come to town and were currently renting. Peach's purpose was to explore the area with the possibility of opening still another center.
"What is an encounter center?" Sara asked.
"Some kind of group therapy. I really couldn't find out much about it. He's going to give a lecture about encounter therapy at the local high school Friday night if you'd like to go."
Sara shrugged. "Why should I want to know? Let me think about it."
Lee had been a thorough banker. He smiled.
"I've also sent a memo to our California branch, asking for all the information they had on Peach's encounter center there.
His wife gave him a smile that Lee felt was phoney. "I'm glad you thought of that, darling." A verbal pat on the head.
Lee sat and took it, even though his insides were churning and he felt a hot rage seethe deep down in his loins. He felt like a puppet or a well trained toy poodle. He performed on cue and received verbal tidbits tossed to him. But, in bed? Lee hid behind his newspaper and knew he should have known something was wrong when Sara, as they had been planning their house before marriage, had insisted, so charmingly, on twin beds. Lee glared at a boring news story and thought, next, it will be separate bedrooms. He sat, pretending to read and went through a long mental argument. No matter how it came out, no matter how many sides to the question he tried to take, he came up with the same conclusion: his marriage was a sexual bust.
And indeed, it was. It had nothing to do with Lee. He was simply a man and any man would have found Sara Driscoll unreceptive. In her defense, it must be said that she was a victim of one of those senseless, meaningless, tragedies that are part and parcel of simply being alive. Sara had an older brother, Alan, and he was killed, blown up by a land mine, in Vietnam.
But, bad as it was, it was not the real tragedy. Before Alan had enlisted in the army, he had come home late, drunk, too drunk, in fact, to know where he was or what he was doing. He surprised his sister, Sara, then fourteen years old, in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of milk. Alan was eighteen and had been out all night with the boys, drinking and trying to "get laid," as a farewell to civilian life. Although he was brave and believed enough in what he was doing to enlist, he was, like many a young man, afraid. And now he was dead drunk, glassy eyed. And desperate. And there, before him, was his enticing, half naked younger sister, looking lovely, trying to hide in her bra and panties, a glass of milk held ludicrously in her hand.
To Alan, in his drunken state, she was a lovely woman and he lurched for her and grabbed her, the glass of milk hurtling to shatter on the floor. She fought but Alan was too strong, he pressed his body against hers and felt her softness struggling against his arms. He crushed her in an embrace and Sara felt his thick hard cock pressed up against her belly and she could feel his powerful thighs pressing against hers as he bent her back over the kitchen table.
Sara had fought with all her strength, imploring and begging her brother over and over in a low voice. "Alan, it's me, Sara, your sister, Sara, me, me, Sara!" Alan reacted as if he hadn't heard, reaching up and hooking his fingers in her bra strap and giving a tug that snapped and ripped it clean. "Alan! My God! Alan, it's me, Sara!" Alan seized her wrists with a snarl and pulled her arms apart as if they were taffy. Springing back, his hands scratched and snarled her panties and ripped them! Instantly, Sara's hands flew down to her lower belly to protect the remnant left of her panties then Alan ripped at what was left of her bra and her breasts, white as a wedding cake, sprang into view, her nipples a bright red and growing taut.
Savagely, he was on her again, bending her backwards, his strong hard body on top of her now. She was naked and nearly helpless as she felt him wedging his body between her knees, spreading her legs against her will. She opened her mouth to scream but Alan put his mouth on her before she could utter a sound and ran his tongue in her mouth.
What happened after that was a blur to Sara. It still is. She was finally naked and on the table, lying there, not knowing how she got there. Her legs were wide apart, as wide as her brother could stretch them, her calves dangling down either side of the table. Her open loins were completely exposed with her sparse little fleece of raven pubic hair on her thrusting mound of Venus. And her vagina, her virgin vagina, was plainly in view with its soft fleshy lips swollen and parted, leaving her tiny red cuntal slit framed by darkening silky hair and beginning to defensively moisten. Alan was naked. Or half naked. He was kneeling above her and his virile young cock, his enormous and thick looking cock was there, hard and hot and, perhaps, she had it in her hand, mindlessly stroking it.
She was never sure. It was all a blur. At that moment, the world shattered as a light went on in the front of the house and Sara screamed. Perhaps she screamed because the light going on made her realize what she was doing, perhaps she screamed because she was going to be found out, perhaps she screamed because she was going to be raped. She was never sure. The light was her father coming down to check out the noises he had heard. Alan had been careless coming home, leaving the front door open and falling around the living room before finding his younger sister. All of his actions were excused, in some part. Up until that night, he had never had anything to drink.
Their father had been outraged. Sara was hysterical. There was much shouting and her mother crying and Alan passing out and getting sick on the floor. Sara shook uncontrollably and couldn't stop crying. She shivered as if she were standing in a snowstorm. After the doctor had come and gone, after her mother had gone to bed, sick, after she had been fed sedatives, Sara told her father what had happened in a drowsy, fuzzy way. And fell asleep.
But that wasn't the real tragedy. The real tragedy occurred later, in the days after. Sara was treated with a tearful kindness by all. She didn't see Alan and his name was never mentioned. She was ordered to stay in bed and was visited by the doctor every day. Later, when she was "well" she visited another doctor, a psychiatrist, three times a week. He was a kindly man and she gradually brought herself to tell him what happened that night and he, in turn, helped her to understand and accept the incident.
The real tragedy was this: in all the time, and in all the talking, Sara never once told anyone the truth. In fact, she had really, unconsciously loved it. There was something insanely exciting in a man coming at her in a brute way, unreasoning, lustful, uncaring, only wanting to do sexual things to her body. There was something so unholy, so delightful, so depraved in feeling that way. It was an emotion so strong that it swept aside all morals and ethics. In fact, it swept aside reason itself. It was self-destructive and, in that self-destructive state, Sara had felt ecstatic.
And now Alan was dead. After Sara had been discharged by the psychiatrist, the matter was dropped and never, ever, mentioned again. It was a good family with a good past and it was a family secret that the young girl could never bring herself to tell anyone. Not even Lee, her young husband.
And now Lee is standing by the living room window again, watching while Sara is in the kitchen. The Peaches are his obsession and he wonders: what goes on at those centers.
Lee's breath comes short again as Joni Peach comes out of the house and walks across the lawn. She has tight bell-bottomed slacks on, navy blue, bare feet, and a red blouse. And the blouse was see-through, completely transparent! Lee watched as she sauntered across the lawn, her breasts outlined and exposed rather than hidden by the gossamer garment. Lee saw her nipples jut out in the cloth and saw her breasts proud and firm and jiggling as she walked and saw them in profile, thrusting out and tilting upward, heavy and musky.
"Dear?" Sara was calling from the kitchen.
Lee groaned, watched Joni Peach as her buttocks wiggled up-down-up-down. He watched her as long as he could before turning and saying, "Yes, dear?"
CHAPTER TWO
Lying in bed, late at night, pretending to read a book while across from him, in a "proper" nightgown, covers pulled up, Sara read through House Beautiful. Lee knew he was going to have to do something. He felt he had been patient long enough. If this, this separate-bed, going-to-work routine was all there was to their married life, it was evident he was going to have to do something.
But what? He thought about it while pretending to read. He thought about it while he lay, staring up at the ceiling, after the lights had been turned off, trying to think of what he could do. Picking up girls was too risky, particularly in his position. Having a mistress -same thing. Sooner or later, they would be seen together, and it would get messy.
Long after his young bride was asleep, he lay, sighing and staring at the ceiling Always the vision of Joni Peach coming across the lawn in various stages of undress came to his mind. Jesus, she looked like a hot number. If she was that way out on the lawn what was she like at home? With the shades drawn?
Lee got up, put oh his robe and went to the living room to smoke a cigarette and think. Sara didn't like his smoking in the bedroom. He sat in a chair, feeling tired, yet sleepless.
Irritable, he realized he hadn't thought about an ashtray. He got up and walked to one on the coffee table and glanced out the window. Lights were on in the Peach's. Lee stood close to the window and craned his head to see. Low lights were on in the house and several cars were parked in the driveway.
Lee went back to his chair and sat smoking. He couldn't see anything from that angle. It was just a party, he told himself. A vision entered his mind. People sitting and standing in a living room, drinking cocktails, talking, laughing, joking. And Joni Peach, the hostess, circulating, being charming in her see-through blouse. Lee felt a ramming hotness in his groin.
If he were to step outside. Get a breath of fresh air. Nothing wrong in that, he told himself. He let himself out quietly, standing and breathing in the air then strolling around by the garage and looking at the Peach house. Bushes and trees separated them and they set further back from the street than the Driscoll's house did. Lee strolled toward the back of his house on the blind side of his property. Nothing wrong with a man taking strolls on his own property.
Lee hadn't been in his own backyard more than twice since they were married but he seemed to remember that their property rose in the back and provided a fine view of the Peach house.
With an air of nonchalance, like a man out to enjoy a starry night, Lee strolled back and stopped and turned and looked down at the Peach house. Lights were on and people were moving about. Lee cursed his luck. The living room was on the other side of the house and all he could see was one corner of a window.
A lovely girl, a stranger, a blonde, suddenly appeared at the window, laughing and looking back over her shoulder at someone behind her. Lee stepped forward.
God, she was naked, with both of her breasts in plain view! It was only for an instant though, because rough masculine hands grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back out of sight.
Lee was breathing hard now and moving in a crouch as far back on his property as he could go. With a little cry of frustration, he realized he couldn't see any better. All caution and pretext of getting some fresh air were gone now. He wanted to see what was going on in that house and his mind was full of wild fantasies. An orgy!
The Peach and Driscoll houses were only separated by a hedge, bushes and trees. From where he was standing, Lee could see a way through the bushes and hedge to where he could stand among the trees, in the dark, and be quite close,to the house.
He could always say he was looking for a cat or had heard a suspicious noise. Lee giggled to himself. He hadn't done anything like this since he was a kid. The danger in it. plus the sheer delight of watching someone unobserved, sent an old thrill running through him and mixing with his sexual excitement of seeing the girl who appeared to be stark naked and also, more to the point, seeing Joni Peach in some stage of nakedness.
Grinning, tripping, unable to see in the pitch black under the trees, Lee made his way forward until he found his way to a picture window and a dim light on inside To his disappointment, it was an empty bedroom. He was about to try and worm through some thicker bushes and find another window when he suddenly turned to ice and froze in mid-stride with his mouth open.
A door opened into the bedroom and Joni Peach walked in, clad in only a short wrap-around kimono of Japanese style. The kimono was half open and her firm, full breasts spilled out the front. She walked in smiling right through the window right at Lee, barely five feet away. By a miracle of light and optics or perhaps an interest in what followed her into the room, she turned and faced the door, her back so close to Lee he felt he could reach out and, except for the glass, touch her. Exhaling his heart pounding, he slowly lowered himself in place just as a man, smiling, strode up to her and took her head in his hands and kissed her full on the mouth. It was not her husband, Martin Peach, by the description he had been given. Martin was in his forties, graying at the temples, handsome and very urbane. The muscular man now embracing his voluptuous neighbor was no older than Lee himself, a bare twenty-five.
Bare was the word; for the man, as they turned from the window, was wearing only a pair of shorts. Lee crouched behind a bush, completely concealed and watched, unbelieving, as he saw the woman undo the robe and, pulling it slowly off her shoulders, she let it fall to the floor and stood completely naked, her back still to Lee. Lee took in her long, tapering back down to her buttocks where he saw two sensuous dimples and then the soft but firm broadening out into the loveliest asscheeks Lee had ever seen.
The man was looking at Joni's body with lecherous eyes. Not a word was spoken as Lee watched his neighbor's wife slowly kneel in front of the man, put her hands behind her back so she couldn't use them, and reaching with her head, slowly begin to pull his shorts down with her teeth, licking and kissing his body with her tongue as she slowly continued pulling the garment down by shuffling around him on her knees and biting the elastic edge of his shorts and pulling them down.
Outside, Lee groaned inwardly at the licentious sight and put his fist in his mouth so he wouldn't utter a sound. His neighbor's naked figure was too much to believe. Her skin was a milky white and her softly curling pubic hair was auburn. She had a few tiny, well-placed moles on her body which only served to make her appear more naked. One mole on the left cheek of her buttocks and one mole on the inside of her thigh, near her vagina. She moved and her breasts were thrust out and the nipples were a pale rose-pink. Her waist was incredibly thin and feminine tendons moved and writhed invitingly over her flat, firm stomach. Her wide fleshy mouth with wet voluptuous lips was licking and kissing the man's now nearly naked torso. And then, as if impatient and unable to wait, she seized the shorts in her mouth and gave one final pull and the underwear fell, the man's cock springing loose. It was a big cock, thick, and springing erect as Lee's neighbor, still on her knees, stopped moving and looked at it hungrily, the tip of her wet tongue slowly moistening around her scarlet, lipstick-covered lips.
Lee craned forward, not wanting to miss a thing, feeling his own cock ramming hard and wet with a drop of semen beginning to form on the very end. Jesus, he told himself, I've never been so hot! I can't believe this!
And, as he watched, his mouth open and his breath shallow, his neighbor took her hands from behind her back. With that same dreamy expression in her eyes, that same smoky, unfocused, sexual look she had when she walked across the lawn, she took the man's hardened penis in her hands and squeezed it. She was fondling and playing with it, caressing and stroking it, talking to it, pursing her lips and blowing it a kiss as it grew bigger, swelling in her hand. Slowly, her tongue out, looking up at the man standing above her and smiling at him with a teasing look, she worked the foreskin back, revealing the smooth, rubbery looking head.
Lee was sweating as he~ watched her, still teasingly moistening her lips with her tongue, open her mouth and slowly suck the head into it. He watched as she slid it slowly in and out of her now widely ovalled lips, taking it a little deeper with each stroke. He watched as she closed her eyes in sheer unadulterated bliss and held the shaft of the man's hardness lightly in her fingers, taking, eventually, almost the whole cock in her mouth and squeezing with her lips so that the man's face contorted with pleasure and his hands went down to the top of her head and grasped her thick auburn hair.
Lee was rubbing his own cock under his pajamas and robe now, wishing he were that man in the room. He watched and saw the man's buttocks begin to move, to pump his thick shaft in and out of his neighbor's willing and hungry mouth like some great tight-fitting piston. And Joni Peach seemed eager to have more. Tim couldn't believe his eyes as he saw the muscles in the man's arms bunch and grow taut as he held her head and face in place and began actually fucking her in the mouth as though it were a smooth, hairless cunt, his cock thick and glistening from her saliva as it pulled out before savagely thrusting inward again.
Joni, far from resisting, was slipping her hands behind the man, cupping his buttocks in her hands and spreading the cheeks so that her fingers could find his anus and caress it while he fucked into her face, her lips sucking hard on his cock. With her index finger in his anus and the man reacting, sweating, his face wild and contorted, he fucked her harder. Lee thought he was going to pass out from frustration and excitement when he saw her other hand come around and cradle the man's balls tenderly in her hand as he fucked her mouth.
With a cry he could hear outside, the man suddenly threw Joni back, knocking her over onto the floor where she fell heavily, her legs spread wide apart. Although she crashed to the floor, she showed no signs of being hurt. Instead, her hands were slowly stroking her thighs as she spread her long lovely legs wider apart and teasingly exposed her cunt, now a hungrily throbbing pink slit glinting with moisture in the dim light.
She was lying at an angle, her head thrown back, her two firm full breasts jutting up, her taut rib cage, her heaving stomach and her loins rolling, squirming up her widespread pussy right at Lee's face, outside in the bushes. The man fell on top of her naked body and seized one of her desire-hardened breasts in both of his hands and kneaded and pinched the nipple, then took it in his mouth to suck and bite on it while Lee's neighbor, her legs spread, raised herself on one elbow so that she could look down at his face while she smiled and ran her tongue around her lasciviously opened lips.
Lee, outside, sat down on the ground, his eyes at window level, and fumbled with his robe and pajamas, finally pulling the draw-string loose and reaching down to grab his cock. God, he thought, it's hot and hard. He began slowly stroking it as he watched the man's head and hands move to Joni's other breast and attack the other nipple as the woman hungrily watched, shifting her head so that her other breast sprang free, quivering, with the nipple pointed and tight.
Now, as Lee watched, slowly stroking his cock in his hand, feeling it grow big. bigger than it had ever been before; so big that the foreskin pulled back and the head popped free and swelled to stretch the skin around it. Jesus, he thought, if only I could fuck her just once!
The man was beginning to lick Joni's breasts all over, slipping down her shapely torso, sliding down to where his naked buttocks were right up against the window and Lee had to kneel up on his knees, his cock out and in his hand, in order to see.
His neighbor had let her head fall back, and her mouth opened in a long, low pleasurable animal-like moan that Lee could hear through the glass. He no longer cared if they could see him. An orgasm, built up through months of abstinence, was building up in him. He could feel it coming, but he continued to stroke his cock, helpless in the feeling of pleasure as he watched her firm rounded hips begin to rise and fall in a lewdly grinding way as the man licked her stomach, her pubic hair, and the fleshy, beautifully molded insides of her thighs.
In a trance Lee watched as he saw her hands slide up her rib cage to cup her huge breasts and softly caress the nipples as the man's tongue licked all around her cunt, then, as he felt himself trembling, Lee watched as her fingers trailed lightly and lasciviously down over her stomach to play in her pubic hair, then lightly, softly, her fingertips rested on the outer surface of her swollen vaginal lips and, as Lee watched, eyes bulging wide, she slowly spread them, revealing the pink insides with the tiny, distended clitoris and the warm moist entrance to her cunt. Lee felt his heart thumping so loud he was afraid they'd hear inside and it was hard for him to catch his breath as he watched the man put his mouth and tongue over the tight pink little hole and begin to lick and suck noisily, the wet sluicing sounds drifting teasingly out the window to Lee Driscoll's unbelieving ears.
Joni Peach reacted as if a bolt of electric current had been shot through her body. Her head was thrown back, her arms flew out, her long, lovely back curled up off the floor and her legs folded up, the knees bending, the legs spreading so that the whole of her loins were exposed as the man greedily sucked and licked her cunt while his finger probed for, found, and teasingly wormed home into her tiny, working anus. The woman reacted with a shudder, then, Siting her lips, she rolled and writhed and squirmed her body around lasciviously on the impaling finger while the man sucked on and on and Lee, outside, moaned out his frustration into the silence.
Then, with all her strength, his neighbor pushed the man from her body and the two of them scrambled to their knees, Joni seeming to be made all of foam rubber as she embraced the man with an open, lascivious mouth and wanton tongue as their naked bodies ground together.
The man tried to drag her to the bed and they broke apart in their mad scramble onto the mattress. Joni wrestled with the man, getting him to lie on his back on the bed and she, kneeling, her long auburn hair flowing, sucked on his hardened cock while her hands ran all over his body. Then she pulled away and swung around, lifting one long shapely leg and crouching over the man; one of her hands then reached between her legs and seized the man's cock and guided it into her liquid hot cunt. It slipped in smoothly and wetly and then Joni kneeled above him and held her breasts in her hands, their pink nipples distended, and slowly, with cold-blooded lewdness, she began to grind her hips down onto the man's pelvis. Lee watched her hips rotate and suddenly stop, squeezing the man's cock with her vaginal lips then letting her hips quiver in tormenting little spasms, then suddenly letting go, acting as if her buttocks were independent things of their own, squirming and rolling her hips to stop once again and then quickly slither down on the full shaft of the prick and then slowly rise up off of it to plunge down once again and begin all over.
Lee knew the man was getting the fucking of his life; that no matter how old he might live to be or what he might experience in life, he would never forget this moment as Joni spread her arms wide and writhed like a python from the hips down and put her hands behind her head and fucked with all her magnificent animal energy.
A door opened in the corner of Lee's eye and he almost had a heart attack, his heart actually shocked into skipping a beat! Someone was coming in the room! Madness went through Lee's sexually heated mind. No, not yet! he wanted to shout out. Nothing must stop his orgasm.
Nothing would. The intruder was a naked girl, a dark brunette - with a deep tan making her breasts and buttocks snowy white in comparison - who crept into the room and stood watching Lee's neighbor and the man fucking before slipping to the bed where she lay on her stomach next to the man and rose on her elbows and kissed the man on the mouth while he fondled the nipples of her breasts and Joni, above them, grinned down and fucked away at his cock below.
Lee never had dreamed of such a sensuous and delightful scene. He felt his hand wet and knew that some of his impending ejaculation, some of his hot cum, had seeped out and made his hand slippery.
And he felt himself cumming. alone, out in the hidden bushes like a peeping Tom as he watched the raven-haired girl pull her mouth away from the man and look up, grinning a white grin against her tan, at Joni's firm breasts, swinging free, dancing above her. She got to her knees and took the slightly older woman's breasts in her hands and her wet mouth closed over a pink, willing nipple. Lee's eyes flew to see the man's hand trailing up the inside of the brunette's tan thigh and saw her shift, spreading her knees so his fingers could find the soft, petal-like lips of her cunt.
Then Lee came, cumming with a choked moan, his body convulsing as it seemed that sweet, white-hot energy swarmed through his helpless body and gathered to rush and gush out of his cock. His cum splattered uselessly on the leaves of a bush and he sank to the ground, feeling weak, his eyelids fluttering as his body twitched and settled into a boneless mass of putty, unable to take his fogged eyes from the scene that was going on, inside, on the bed.
Any fear of being seen or heard was long gone from his mind. Befuddled by the overwhelming intensity of his orgasm, he was slow to realize that, although tired and utterly relaxed from his first really fulfilling climax, he was still sexually excited. He found himself aroused in a way he had never felt possible before. His cock was erect again and he felt relaxed and lewd. There was no reason in his mind why this couldn't go on all night.
He had made too much noise ... Not for the occupants of the bedroom, Joni Peach and her friends. They were much too busy enjoying themselves to care about people, let alone vague noises. In fact, the door to the bedroom was slightly ajar and sounds of the party - music talk, laughter - filtered into the bedroom and mingled with their own moans and mewls of pleasure.
But, he had made too much noise. Someone outside the house had heard him. Earlier, prior to his orgasm, he had moaned and Martin Peach, in the garden, had snapped his head around and listened.
He had slipped outside during the party and had stood in the dark, smoking a cigarette and enjoying the fresh air. He had grown bored with the party, and with patients and their egos. Every doctor was entitled to grow weary once in a while. Tonight, in particular, it seemed to him that one couple was putting so many needless and totally irrelevant problems in the way of their happiness. He had spent a long time talking to them in his quiet hypnotic way. He tried to understand their problems, sympathize with them, understand them as people and show them how they were being needlessly foolish and provincial in their attitudes about pleasure and love. Tonight, it seemed as if this particular couple only wanted to argue, postponing any possibility of commitment on their part.
And he grew weary. And, like a good doctor, he had excused himself and managed to slip out, leaving the couple alone to brood and talk for a while.
And, now, he stood listening, attenuated, straining to hear another sound. His immediate thought was: police. His well trained mind went into action. His parties were quiet and discreet. He could hear no music coming from inside. He had chosen the house because of the privacy afforded so he doubted there was any reason for police to inspect the house. Who would complain? If it were police, it was a raid and a raid could have nasty consequences, legal and public, so Martin Peach moved with a cautious stealth.
Slight sounds seemed to be coming from around a corner of the house and Martin crept to the corner and, holding his breath, he looked around.
Someone was in the bushes, peering in a window. Martin pulled his head back and mentally prepared what he would say and do if it should turn out to be police. Looking once more, he saw a bare head in the dim light that filtered out the window.
Deftly, he stepped behind a tree and looked to see a man, kneeling on the ground, in his pajamas and robe, the robe open, and the man wildly masturbating as he looked into the peep show bedroom. Martin breathed a sigh of relief and his whole body relaxed. It was only a man, a peeping Tom, a poor sexually frustrated guy out in the bushes excited out of his mind.
Martin smiled at the man and again noticed that the man was dressed in night wear and reasoned he had to be from the neighborhood ... from, in fact, right across the way, from the Driscoll house. His grin widened as he thought of striding through the bushes, hand out, and saying Hi, I'm Martin Peach, your new neighbor. Come on in and get acquainted. He almost laughed out loud when he thought of Driscoll's reaction. He relaxed his face, thinking, so that's the poor guy who married that pretty iceberg? He's been finally driven out into the bushes.
He grew curious, as he watched Lee, as to just what it was Lee was observing. Probably some unstructured and unsupervised therapy. For his own amusement he decided to see what it was Driscoll was watching, so he began to walk in a long, wide circling direction until he had worked himself behind his well-occupied neighbor and was, in a sense, peering over Driscoll's shoulder. He bit his tongue against an ironic laugh as he thought: a voyeur watching a voyeur. What could be more esoteric?
He crouched down and peered under the branch of a tree and saw Joni and "Lange" Landress together on the bed with Lange's wife, Patty, slipping into the room. Lange and Patty had flown in from their Long Island estate for the week and were house guests. The Landresses were here to help Martin kick off his new "encounter center" and, from what Martin could see, they were enjoying every minute of it.
Martin actually jumped as Lee let out his garbled moan and sank down. Martin shrugged, at Lee's orgasm and figured it was time for him to go back inside. The poor devil would soon come to his senses, realize where he was, and beat a path for home. Much as he liked seeing his own wife getting laid, and as much as he felt aroused, he pulled himself away and silently slipped into the bushes and around the house where he relaxed and walked along his hands in his pockets, grinning, realizing with a laugh that instead of having police on his hands, all he had was another potential patient, one Lee Driscoll.
He made a mental note to meet Driscoll personally. He grinned and shrugged: My God, the woods are really full of them!
He went back into the party smiling, stopping to talk as he worked his way to the bar to pour himself his second and last drink of the night. He stood, savoring the whiskey, listening to the satisfied chink the ice made in his glass and smiled at a pretty girl who was lying on the floor, her head in her date's lap. With a grin, he smiled to himself. From now on, he thought, I'll see to it that the drapes are almost, but not quite, closed in the therapy room.
CHAPTER THREE
"You look tired, dear."
Lee put down his newspaper and looked across the room at his wife. She looked so sexual, so desirable and for a split second, his imagination ran away with him and he saw her in that room, naked, coming in as Roanna fucked him as she had that man last night. He crossed his legs and tried to look thoughtful. Sara had said or asked something. "What?" he said, pretending not to hear.
"I said you've looked tired lately."
"Tired?" Lee asked, looking at his wife owl-eyed. "What makes you think that?"
An amused smile grew on her lips. "Maybe it's the purple bags, watery eyes, and gaunt complexion that tells me something."
"Oh? Yeah? Well, I haven't been sleeping too well, lately. Past couple of nights."
"May I ask why? And try not to yawn when you answer me."
"Oh? Yeah. Some problems down at the bank been on my mind."
"Nothing, I'm sure, that you can't handle." "All solved." Lee yawned and tapped his head. "Used the old noggin. Sleep tonight."
"You look it." Sara rose to sit by Lee and hold his hand and smile at him. "Poor baby. Sometimes I try to imagine what you go through in a day. It must be tougher than you let on. You never talk about it much."
They had an early, light dinner, and went directly to bed. Lee was sound asleep by the time Sara got through with the dishes and she permitted herself the luxury of undressing in front of her husband and standing naked, ruminating, those lovely firm hips of hers rocking gently back and forth as she thought she must take more interest in Lee's work, that he took it far more seriously than she had supposed. She loved him for it. Looking at his still form and long measured breathing, she loved him very much. In her mind, there really was reason to admire him. He was handsome and charming and thoughtful and kind. The one deep throbbing regret was their sex life. She hoped he would understand. After Alan had tried to rape her, her mother, her father, doctors, ministers, and even the psychiatrist, moralized at her. What Alan had tried to do was wrong, morally and mentally. It was loathsome behavior and, in order for her to ever have a "normal" relationship with a man, she would have to understand this. It was drummed into her over the years and when her father had insisted she withdraw from the college beauty contest, it was brought up again.
And, Sara felt guilty because she let the blame fall on her brother, when all the time she too had perversely enjoyed it. In fact, she had loved it! She stood, naked, in front of her sleeping husband, and thought - how could I tell that to you. You're so nice and gentle when we make love and if I say no, you don't try to force me and I love you for it, but I wish you were like me and I can't let you see what I'm like, what I'm really like, because, there is always the chance, the teeny weeny chance that, if I tell you how I feel, what I like, what I want, you will look at me and not say anything and then line up with my parents and- the doctors and the ministers and Alan, poor Alan, is dead and I'll be all alone, I'll be all alone forever.
Tears welled up in her eyes and she shook her head, looking at her sleeping husband and wondering if he knew or had any idea how much she really needed him, loved him. She never showed her love. She tearfully pulled on her nightgown and resolved, as she slipped into bed, to be better to him in the future. Maybe, sometime soon, she would let him make love to her again.
Had she known what her husband had been up to for the past three nights, she wouldn't have felt so charitable about him. Had she known that a smiling Martin Peach had observed her husband observing, she wouldn't have slept very well. Had she known what her husband had been observing, she wouldn't have slept at all.
Martin Peach was a brilliant and quixotic man. His treatment was considered highly unorthodox, yet highly successful. He blindly obeyed impulses, set situations up then sat back to see what happened. On a whim, the very next day after seeing Lee in the bushes, he interrupted his lecture at an informal group-therapy session to say, "Listen, I've got this patient who is hung-up on watching others engaging in the sex act. Now, this is weird, but go along with it for awhile. Supposing I set up a situation where this guy can watch, unobserved. Got it? Now, are there any of you who want to work out some exhibitionistic tendencies? You know, unwind, get a few of those kinks out of your ego. This is a perfect chance for any couples still in a developing stage. You won't see him, won't know who he is or when he is watching you. Think about it you married couples. Of course," a chuckle, "no couples will be turned away. I don't know, I just thought I'd toss it out. Think about it." Martin grinned and shrugged. "Who knows? It might be fun. It might open up all parts of your personality you've kept hidden from yourself up until now. At any rate, you won't be doing yourself any harm and you'll be doing some poor tortured soul some amount of good. Think on it and if anybody is interested, let them contact me after this session. Now, where was I?" Martin paused and looked around. The nervous couple who had not yet come around were more nervous, looking at one another.
"You were talking about Jung's approach to the problem of the Id and how that related to modern American suburban life," a honey blonde young girl said at his feet.
Martin Peach smiled down at her. "So I was."
Sara lay awake, thinking of Lee next to her, oblivious of the fact that her entire life was shortly to undergo traumatic changes. Dr. Martin Peach was to enter her life and change it radically.
After his first night in the bushes, after he had brought himself to two orgasms, Lee let himself back in the house as quietly as possible, tiptoeing, slipping stealthily into bed and lying, exhausted, but wide awake. He felt so many things. He felt excited by what he had done and seen and he also felt frightened by it. Was it 'normal' to enjoy being a peeping Tom? Had he discovered he was some kind of pervert? Guilt, mixed with a sticky excitement, flooded over him. What would have happened if he had been caught? How could he explain himself to Sara? To her family? To the bank?
Yet, the very idea of taking such a risk was, in itself, exciting. Would he go back again? Lying in the dark, listening to his wife sleeping in the next bed, he knew he would go back. He might never see anything like that again in his whole life, but he had to go back and look once again.
Lying in bed, he plotted ahead. He would come home from the office pleading a headache and make for an early night in bed. Then, when she was asleep, he would slip out.
For the first time since they were married, Lee felt an interest and purpose to his life. He looked forward to the coming night. He closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep but sleep wouldn't come. With a remarkable clarity, he remembered each detail of what he had seen. He lay still, with his eyes shut, and remembered.
After his first orgasm and the discovery that he was still extremely excited, he lay on his side in the bushes and watched what was going on in the room. A man watched Joni Peach and a young voluptuous girl embracing, the man being Lange, the girl Patty's husband. He watched, smiling, as the two of them took turns sucking and biting each other's nipples. Joni had pulled free of Lange and kissed Patty with an open mouth, her tongue probing to find Patty's responding. Patty's hand worked its way teasingly down to Joni's cunt and stroked the soft inflamed lips and delicately caressed her throbbing clitoris.
Lange rolled to one side and watched, not knowing that Lee was outside watching too. His prick was hard again and he was stroking it as he watched the doctor's wife and his wife kneeling on the bed, holding each other by the shoulders, looking at each other with lewd smiles. Patty's deep tan and slim, athletic build contrasted nicely with Joni's auburn hair tumbling down to a full-blown, voluptuous body that oozed sex from every pore.
Joni was rocking back and forth, her tongue licking her lips as she slowly gyrated her hips and rolled her buttocks under in a soft liquid movement to stick her pelvis out in a lewd and. wanton manner, her cuntal mouth spread wide, her vaginal lips swollen and throbbing invitingly, as she slowly ground and gyrated her hips while all the time smiling lewdly and expectantly at the younger Patty.
Patty, taking the hint, rolled her white buttocks under and thrust her hips forward so that her tight little cunt was framed a red slit in her black pubic hair. They kneeled, pressing their groins together while Lange watched as their hands slowly slid down their backs to seize and cup each other's smoothly rounded buttocks, to squeeze them, pinch them while they gently and lasciviously rubbed their cunts together.' Lee moaned again and he stroked his cock, feeling such a wild elation it overrode all the circumstances and reality around him.
He longed to be in that room with those people. Failing that, watching them, running whatever risk he might, was worth it. He watched and found himself breathing harder, knowing he would have to have another orgasm as he saw the girls' hands slowly spread the cheeks of each other's buttocks as their breasts touched and their nipples rose. Joni's breasts were so much bigger than Patty's but Patty's were still more than adequate, having firm, high rounded breasts that went with her slim tennis-player build.
Lee and Lange watched as Patty's tanned finger found Joni's tiny puckered anus and softly caressed it while Joni did the same to her naked genitals. The two women seemed made of heat as they pressed against each other, their eyes shut, their mouths open, their tongues licking slowly and wantonly at one another.
Patty shuddered, seeming to swoon as she fell into Joni's embrace and went limp and helpless and Joni forced her back, bending her backward until she fell on top of her on the bed. Patty, her eyes closed, her mouth trembling, slowly spread her arms and legs as far as they could go and lay motionless while Joni slipped down her body, the nipples of her breasts lightly caressing Patty's body while her tongue snaked down her throat and over her breasts and down her flat stomach and her mouth licked her black pubic hair then slowly slid down and locked hungrily over her throbbing cunt.
Lee watched as Joni alternately sucked and licked, finally stabbing her tongue deep into the younger woman's cunt and Patty writhed and twisted like a burning match as her husband, Lange, crawled to her and kissed her on the mouth and pinched her breasts while Joni, her tongue feeling like a white hot flame of pleasure, sensuously wiggled her tongue.
Lee watched as Patty came like an exploding ball of fire, moaning, her head thrashing, her body tensing, almost lifting itself off the bed and convulsing again and again as she bucked and writhed while Lange and Joni hung on to her and teased with their tongues until the orgasmic spasms subsided and Patty lay limp.
Then, Lee knew he was going to cum, again. As he watched, Lange said something to Joni who nodded and crawled on top of a moaning and helpless Patty and, kissing her mouth, spread her own legs as wide as they would go and Lange kneeled behind them, between both their open legs, his stiff erect cock in his hand.
Lee, outside, moaned softly and came again, pumping out his white hot cum as he saw Lange slowly push his cock into his wife's cunt then slowly, with a lewd, ecstatic smile on his lips, pull it out and worm it slowly up into Joni's cunt. Now, he lay on the ground, his eyelids fluttering as he watched Lange losing control and savagely fucking first one then the other.
Patty, coming to life again, aroused, crazed, ground her hips up into Joni when Lange was fucking her. Their naked bodies were all glistening with sweat now and Lee could see Patty's lips moving as she groaned something up to him and her husband gave her a savage smile of acknowledgement. If Lee could have heard, he would have heard Patty urge her husband to "Fuck Joni! Fuck the shit out of her!" Lange grinned and nodded and began bucking her from behind with all his might while his wife Patty, underneath her, gripped her shoulders, dug her nails in and thrust upward with her hips so that her pubic hair ground against Joni's exposed and throbbing clitoris. Lange held her thighs apart with his huge strong hands, forcing them wider as he dug his nails in and threw his head back and fucked Joni's tight, wetly clenching cunt with a wild, uncontrolled glee.
Lying on the ground near the window, Lee could look up and see the man's thick, moistly glistening cock pulling out, all the way until just the head was locked tightly in Lee's neighbor's cunt, the vaginal lips parted and folded back, the red wet walls of her cunt pulled out to be plunged back into again by the other girl's husband who looked like he was snarling now.
Joni Peach was pinned, helpless, unable to move as the husband and wife fucked her mercilessly between them. Patty, with her teeth gritting and her lips pinched, ground her pelvis up on Joni's clitoris in a maddening lesbian way. Joni was hanging on for dear life, her mouth open, her eyes beginning to show white and the chords in her neck standing out as Patty and Lee, outside, watched her face as the orgasm came on her and she jerked and twitched and her legs quivered in wild, tendon-jerking spasms as she came again and again and Patty and Lange, gloating, redoubled their efforts until they felt Joni go limp and become a dead weight in their grasps.
And then, without wasting a moment, Lange got off her and together, they rolled her to the side and Lange crawled between her widespread legs and began fucking his wife, Patty, while Joni watched with barely open eyes. Patty flung her legs around her husband's back and locked her ankles together and fucked back at his driving cock with all her might as Lange responded, savagely bouncing her on the squeaking bed until he came, with a roar, and pumped his white hot semen deep into Patty's cunt.
It went on quite late with Lee, outside, exhausted, shivering now in the late night cold, watching, unbelieving.
Finally, he had staggered home after the three of them had fallen into a deep sleep tumbled nakedly together on the bed. After he had gotten into bed and relived every moment of it, he still couldn't believe it.
He felt himself drifting off to an exhausted, restless, dream-filled state. He fell asleep with an erection, his last conscious thought being a resolve to go back again and again.
CHAPTER FOUR
His day went by fast and amazingly well. Driving to work in the morning, he had been a thoughtful man. With the reality of daylight and a place to go and work to be done, Lee Driscoll had a chance to view his actions with some sobriety. His day went remarkably, amazingly well. He found he even had time for humor as he joked with the woman tellers and looked at them with a new and exciting interest.
Ultimately, he had to sit and think. If he should ever get caught, it could mean his ruin. He thought of caution and of innumerable alibis if it should ever come to that. Chasing a stray cat that was meowing and woke him up, thought he saw a burglar and went out to investigate, heard a strange sound and went to see what it was.
Whatever he did, he must be careful and limit his activities to next door and forget about broadening his activities despite the fact that some of the tellers were young and quite attractive. Which led him to sit at his desk, stern, pretending to read a trust agreement and think of the Peaches. He simply had to know more about them. Some information would come from the coast, but would it be enough? The bank had an investigating firm on a retainer for digging up privileged information whenever there was any doubt about a large bank loan or investment. They were expensive and discreet. Lee toyed with the idea of saying he had been approached by Martin Peach on a personal basis. The possibility of a loan was discussed. It would sound plausible because it was true that Peach was in the area with the idea in mind of starting a "Center."
Lee could use the bank's facilities and money to find out more about the Peaches.
Still, he reasoned, did he need to know any more about them than he already knew? Martin Peach had to be some kind of nut to let that sort of thing to go on in his own house. And Joni Peach, well, she certainly didn't fit Lee's idea of what a psychologist's wife should be. She was more like a topless dancer, a nymphomaniac, a pervert, a bisexual creature of magnificent proportions.
She had to be immoral to behave the way she did. Lee frowned, wondering if Martin knew how his wife behaved and, if he did, how he felt about it.
While dictating letters to his secretary, he found himself watching her. She was polite and businesslike, all ice and efficiency as she took notes, her black, horn-rimmed glasses sitting on her nose. Although she was thirty-five, ten years older than Lee, she was still attractive, and Lee looked at her body and wondered what she would look like, naked, in that room.
Always, his thoughts swung back to his new next door neighbor. He thought of her as he checked out one cashier's balance. She was a slut. From the way she behaved, he felt she would do the things she did in the room for him. For anybody.
The employees at the bank were all a titter about the change in Lee. He was energetic and he joked through the day and there was a sparkle to his eyes and an energy, even though he was tired, to all his commands and work. He drove home whistling for it soon would be dark.
In the driveway, he had to compose himself, slow down his reactions and make his face looked pained. "Hello, darling, miss me?"
Sara drew back. "What's the matter?"
Lee could have whooped for joy. He was a good enough actor to bring concern to his own wife's face.
The charade went on. He took aspirin and sat quietly in his chair, pretending to rest his eyes until Sara said she would make an early dinner. As soon as she left the living room, Lee was by the window and looking at the Peach house across the way. There were two cars in the driveway. Good, he thought and sat down and read the paper.
Together, they watched the evening news and talked about trivial housekeeping chores. Dinner done, Sara said. "I'm just as glad we're getting to bed early, I'm going to meet mother at the country club tomorrow. We're going to have lunch. I might as well make a day of it and see if I can't get a morning session of tennis in. Martin Peach is going to speak at the club tomorrow afternoon."
Lee couldn't help reacting to Peach's name. "What? He is?"
Sara made a face. "Yes, he's going to talk about mental health and you know how mother is about such things. Personally, I think he could use a little mental health himself, but mother seems mad about him and I'd said I'd go along with her since Daddy is out of town."
"Martin Peach? At the country club?"
"Yes," Sara said dryly, "apparently he knows some influential people. Personally, I find him revolting and I am interested to see what kind of impression he makes on others."
"Martin Peach lecturing at the country club." Lee gave a slight, incredulous laugh.
They went to bed, Lee still feigning a headache and he lay, with his back to Sara, pretending to sleep while she lay for endless hours reading a detective novel. Lee lay in silent impatience, wondering if she would ever get tired and put out the light and go to sleep.
The clock ticked endlessly, loudly, while there was the occasional rustle of a page to mark his wife's snail-like pace through the book. Finally, he heard her yawn, the book put down and her light snapped out and Lee said a little prayer of thanks.
Then there was silence except for the ticking of the clock and finally, after an eternity, Lee could make out the slow, deep, measured breathing that told him she was asleep.
Lee lost no time slipping through the house. He hurried, his heart pounding with excitement, over his own property. He was in no danger until he got in the bushes and began working his way onto Peach's property. There, he moved with a delicious caution, not making a sound as he worked his way to the window. The fact that all was darkness didn't bother him, the thought that the drapes might be closed had never occurred to him.
Yet they were! Lee crouched, his mouth open. It just wasn't possible, it wasn't fair. Lee squatted on his haunches and looked at the drapes. With a grimace, he tried to imagine what was going on inside and the thought drove an aching into his loins. He would never again see anything like he did last night. He felt dismal and tired and cheated. He had lain for an eternity in bed, fighting off fatigue and sleep with the promise of seeing more. Now this.
Lee squinted in the night. The drape was not completely closed! Trembling with fear and excitement, Lee got to his hands and knees and crept to the window and then along it until he came to the crack in the curtain. He was beautifully positioned. Just how beautifully, he wasn't to know until much later. Martin Peach had arranged everything, including a movie camera with telephoto infrared lens which he was now operating a hundred feet off in his yard. Lee had to come out of the bushes and position himself in the clearing, right by the window. He looked nervously around, fully conscious of his vulnerability, realizing that if he were caught out in the open like this, he would have a hard time convincing anyone he was just out for an insomniac stroll or looking for a kitty.
But, as a matter of fact, the danger of his position made it all the more exciting. He crouched low by the window so that anyone inside would be less likely to see him. The room was empty with only a low light on. Lee didn't mind waiting so long as he could see the room.
An insane logic told him he would see something.
He didn't have to wait long. He held his breath as the door swung slowly open and a couple walked in timidly. The first thing about them to strike him was their behavior. They were giggling, self-conscious. They looked around a lot, exchanged smiles and talked very little. The second thing he noticed was their appearance: they were both very attractive. Young, slim, they looked like a happily married suburban couple. And that was exactly what they were. And they were about to be naughty. They were, under the guidance of Martin Peach, about to lose some inhibitions and add some spice to their sex lives. At one group session, Carol, the wife, had stripped almost naked under Martin's hypnotic urgings. The idea was to express oneself fully, that if you couldn't do what you wanted in public, you couldn't do it in private in bed and were thus depriving yourself and your mate of a more meaningful and mutually enriching relationship.
Carol had stripped nearly naked in front of the group with Martin Peach urging her gently along. "That's it. Easy now. You'll never understand and enjoy your exhibitionistic tendencies unless you come to grips with them." Andy, her husband, had watched Carol revealing more and more of her lovely body as all watched. He told himself not to get uptight about it. Both found, later, in bed, that they were aroused and the lovemaking was good.
Now, they had agreed to an experiment with Martin's urgings and explanations. They were alone in a room and someone was watching them. Someone would watch them make love if they had nerve enough to do it. Carol sat on the bed and laughed nervously. She felt the mirror on the wall was two way and someone was behind it, watching. Brazenly, she pulled her skirt up, crossed her legs, and flirted with the mirror. Andy felt there was some concealed peephole or someone outside, peering through the drapes. Studiously, he avoided looking around as he turned up a light and Carol looked at him and bit her lip.
Lee couldn't understand their giggling. Perhaps they were married to other mates and were cheating on one another. His groin began to pound as Carol reached behind and unzipped her dress and Andy, so casual, took off his coat. They both laughed and Andy sat next to her, suddenly serious, aroused. Slowly, methodically, he helped his wife out of the dress. Outside, Lee gasped as he saw the dress slip over her head, revealing long tapered legs and firm thighs. The silk dress slid on up, revealing her torso naked from the waist down! More than naked, she was clothed in a black garter belt and sheer stockings. A soft, fluffy "V" of pubic hair visible where her smooth flat stomach swooped into her thighs. The dress slid on up, revealing her rib cage and her large firm breasts held by a cup bra with a place cut out for her red nipples to protrude through.
The dress off. Carol sat with legs crossed, laughing, hiding her face in her hands. Andy said something to her that Lee couldn't hear and she took her hands from her face and began untying his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. She helped her husband out of his shirt and undershirt and then he stood to take off his shoes and socks and then his pants.
He helped Carol to her feet and she stood naked, her curvaceous charms exposed and exciting, her buttocks firm and delightful as she raised her arms and her husband had unsnapped her bra and it fell, her breasts leaping free and quivering.
Lee crouched, his cock already hard and throbbing as he watched the two look at one another. Their grins were secretly lewd. If he only knew how they felt at that moment, that they were both contemplating the lewd, lust-inciting things they would do to one another with him watching and that the thought swept through them like a flood, he would have been even more excited.
Carol helped Andy out of his shorts and stood looking at him as she watched his penis swell in size. She could not take her eyes from it. As Lee watched, the expression on her face turned to one of utter depravity and she slowly sank to her knees in front of her husband and took his cock in her two hands and slowly, lewdly, she pressed the smooth rubbery head all over her face as Lee watched. Then, she ran the bulging head all over her neck and then her breasts.
Lee was fingering his own cock as he watched her squeeze the man's cock between her firm young breasts, her hands taking, cupping, her breasts, holding the thick red cock in place with only the head showing from between the thick cleavage of Carol's breasts.
Carol's mind was full of impressions. She was naked with her husband now. But a complete stranger was also watching her naked body. And she felt lewd. There were things she wanted to do, things she wanted to feel that up until now she had felt were wicked and wrong. Martin Peach had changed all that. He urged, compelled, pleaded and argued with people to give in to their secret desires, that a person could never know what sin was really like unless they really sinned.
And sin Carol was, with a stranger watching her and her husband from somewhere in the darkness. Someone would watch them do the most secret and lewd things to each other they had ever done. And Carol was determined to be lewd. For one, she thought, I can play the part of a whore without anyone getting hurt. Martin gives his word. No one will ever know. She cuddled her husband's cock tighter between her breasts and swayed back and forth, smiling down at it. She was going to give him more than he ever had before so that he would like the experience, so that he would want to do it again and again. Then, perhaps directly in front of someone else. Perhaps with another couple on the same bed. Carol's mind swam with the exciting possibilities and her saliva-moistened tongue licked out and tickled across the head of Andy's rampant cock.
He let out a groan as his body twitched with pleasure as his wife's tongue tickled back and forth, the tip just touching the end of his swelling cock. "You little bitch!" he hissed down at the top of her head, his legs trembling. "Where did you learn that?"
Carol didn't answer. She bent her head still more and let the flat of her wet tongue across the head of his cock. Andy groaned again and his wife looked up. "You like this, don't you?"
"Yes!"
"I mean, somebody watching me lick you this way?" "Yes!"
"You like it?"
"I love it! Do that some more!"
Lee outside, could see their mouths moving, but he couldn't hear the words. Andy's head was thrown back and his eyes closed as he stood in a kind of a crouch. Lee fumbled for his own cock and began stroking it back and forth in wild abandon as he watched the girl inside bow her head and begin licking the cock captured between her soft ample breasts and let her tongue swirl and tease around the head.
The man let his fingers entangle in her hair but from Lee's angle of vision, he could see clearly as the girl's lips puckered, then her ruby mouth ovaled and she pressed her head forward and her warm wet lips closed over the man's throbbing cock and she began to gently nibble and suck.
Outside, Lee barely had time to kick his pajamas off before he came, spurting against the side of the house and moaning softly as his eyelids flickered.
Andy, inside, was thrilled by someone watching his wife with her ovaled lips locked tightly around his hardened cock. Suppose, it was a woman? So much the better. If it was a man, that was all right too. That poor devil was going to see him fuck his young wife, Carol, half to death.
She was acting like a whore, like she never had before, even on their wedding night. Very well. He would treat her like a whore. He knew what she wanted. He knew why she wanted to join Martin Peach's group. He knew the whole story. Carol had hot pants and Peach teased them. Carol wanted a good fucking. Carol loved being shamed and humiliated. He knew that. The rougher he treated her and the more lewd and debasing things he made her do, the better she seemed to like it. Okay, he'd play her game all out and enjoy it. There was always Roanna Peach afterwards.
What Lee witnessed next excited him so much he got to his knees and pressed his face against: the glass, his rapidly swelling cock in his hand.
Inside, the man suddenly seized the woman, literally picked her up with a superhuman effort, and threw her on the bed where she sprawled with her legs wide apart, her hair-fringed pelvis mound jutting and the pink glistening slit of her cunt facing Lee's way. The man threw himself on top of her with a snarl and ferocity that even Lee could hear and feel outside.
With his eyes half-closed, Lee watched as the man began fucking ferociously between the girl's widespread legs, holding her buttocks up tight, crushing her, as he fucked her with all his might, the two of them bouncing across the bed until they crashed to the floor with such a thump and crash, it must have been heard throughout the house.
Lee watched as the man never let up but rather seemed to redouble his efforts, fucking the girl across the floor and into a corner then fucking harder, lifting her buttocks off the floor, pressing and pounding harder until he was on his knees with her legs wrapped around him, fucking her unmercifully with only her head and the nape of her neck on the floor, banged into the corner.
Carol was buffeted and crashed around until she saw stars. She didn't know where she was nor could she see what was happening. All she could feel was intense pain and bliss and the bliss was overruling the pain with each brutal, piston-like thrust of her husband's rampaging cock. He was cumming already, stretching the limits of his wife's cunt and pouring the white hot cream deep up into her excited belly. Then, Carol came too with wild, animal-like shudders and garbled moans as Andy fucked on and on unmindful of her helpless grunts of climactic pleasure.
Outside, Lee came again and they all sagged downward in their respective heaps. Carol and Andy's was the more interesting as they climbed on the bed and lay, catching their breath. Soon, Andy's hand was caressing her thigh, working its way again toward the softness of her pubic hair.
In no time, as Lee sat on the ground and watched, the man had the woman's legs spread wide and was playing with her cunt, caressing it and spreading its wet sperm-covered lips, revealing in all its nakedness her pink glistening cuntal mouth. Now he was licking it and now his head was buried deep between her open thighs as his tongue darted home in her cunt and wormed teasingly around as the woman bent her knees and submissively drew her legs back so that the man might get his tongue deeper into her hot lewd cunt.
Carol moaned with delight on the bed, beginning to grind her buttocks around. Her first orgasm with a stranger watching had been as Martin said: mighty. And Martin promised more to come. She had never, not even when she was a virgin, been so excited before. This feeling of lewdness was sublime. She closed her eyes and undulated her buttocks around as much for the stranger as Andy, as her husband reached under her with his hands and his finger toyed with the hitherto forbidden entrance to her back passage. Her tight, puckered anus. Carol felt a lascivious thrill course through her body. She wished for a long night.
It was. Outside, it grew cold and Lee was tired and shivering yet he could not tear himself away from the sight inside. It seemed as if they were possessed. They fucked then rested to make love again. And they were lewd, they were indescribably lewd and Lee knew that soon they would be inviting others, of both sexes, into their bed.
He staggered home with the sky lighting in the east. He was so tired, he ached all over. How long could he keep this up? He sank into bed an exhausted man, falling asleep immediately, seeming only to close his eyes in time for the alarm clock to go off.
Sara arose cheerful and full of talk. Lee was morose and non-communicative, only saying tersely that he hadn't slept too well. The rest of the day, Lee went through in a daze, sitting in his office in the morning, drinking black coffee and contemplating the secret life of a peeping Tom. If he could make it, he was going back tonight.
And go back he did, getting through the evening with still another headache and suggesting that perhaps he had a touch of the flu. "There's a lot of it going around down at the bank," he offered as an explanation of his lackluster behavior.
Sara, all orders, got him into bed early and settled down next to him in her bed with a book as thick as War and Peace and began to read with a reminder that he take a Contac pill. Lee palmed the pill and pretended to sleep.
After the standard time of torturous waiting, his wife put the light out and went to sleep and Lee was able to wearily haul himself out of bed and make for the bushes next door, wondering what was going to happen tonight.
What was going to happen was already underway when Lee crawled up to the window, saw the drapes were closed and crawled to his usual spot and saw naked figures on the bed. His cock leaped to life with the thought of an orgy like he had seen with Joni Peach. He focused and saw two men, naked. No, three. A boy! Lee's heart skipped a whole beat as he saw it wasn't a boy but a young girl with small breasts and slim hips. It was a boy's build and was accentuated by her hair which had been cut very short and combed in the manner of a boy.
The young girl sat on the bed, her legs apart, leaning back and supporting her weight on her arms, as one man pinched and roughly caressed her budding breasts, while the other man worked his hands up the inside of her slim thighs, spreading her legs and revealing her soft downy pubic hair and revealed the tight swelling of her vaginal lips around her tight little cunt.
Lee's breath was coming fast. What he was going to see tonight would surpass his fatigue and irritating insistence on sleep. What he was about to see he had never dreamed of before and would remember for the rest of his life.
Martin Peach, positioned with his camera, squinted through the viewfinder and brought a crouching Lee, his face wildly excited, into sharp focus. Peach smiled. This was the last night before phase two began in the real life education of one Lee Driscoll.
They say that people, when watched for a long period of time, become conscious of it. A nervousness pervades and there is a tendency to look around. Not so with Lee. He was too absorbed by what he saw in the room to take his eyes off the window. Had he relaxed, stopped watching for a minute or two, he would have felt Martin's professional, dispassionate stare and then he would become conscious of the fact that his life, and Sara's too, were going to change radically in the weeks to come.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Honest to my maiden Aunt Francine, I take back all those things I was thinking about Martin Peach." Sara smiled across the dining room table.
"Huh?" Lee was still tired, even though he had had a little sleep.
"Pardon, me. Doctor Martin Peach. He is one, you know, even though he never uses the title; and urges everyone to relate to him on a firsts name basis if it feels comfortable."
Lee cut his chop and chewed on a piece thoughtfully. "That's right, you heard him somewhere with your mother. At her bridge club."
"The country club."
"Right. How did it go?" Lee asked, his eyebrows raised, ready to hear the worst.
"That's what I'm saying. Mother adored him, and I must admit I found him very charming." Sara smiled and laced her hands in her lap.
"What!" Lee said, half getting up. Jealousy came in waves over him. He didn't want his wife hanging around with anyone like Martin Peach.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing." Lee composed himself and went back to cutting his chop. "This is delicious. I was just surprised, that's all. Last time you said he was disgusting and vulgar and tried to proposition you, that's all."
"No I didn't."
"You even said they were drunk."
"I said they had been drinking. Martin - oh, there I go - I mean Dr. Peach, explained that. He's doing a lot of work on behavior, on the way certain cultural events influence behavior."
"So he and that curvy wife of his get smashed by midday?"
Sara stared at him a minute before she rearranged the carrots on her plate with her fork. "Yes, something like that, but, it sounds so awful when you say it and how did you know that his wife was curvy?"
Lee stared at his wife with a mouthful of carrots, fearing he had blown the whole thing. He swallowed. "I don't know. You told me I think. Maybe - yes, I think I saw her when they were moving in."
"Oh?" Sara pouted. "Well, you never told me about it."
"I forgot. So you liked this Peach fellow, did you?"
Sara was effusive again. "Yes! I have to take back all the things I said and thought. Mother adored him and he was so nice to her."
"I'll bet." Lee said then shut his mouth. "What I mean is, what did he talk about?"
"Everything. Mostly about people. What they are like, what they need, what they want. It was all just so - oh, right, maybe, the way he got us to see other viewpoints."
"What other viewpoints?" Lee asked, wary, thinking, she can't possibly know what kind of a joker he is and what kind of a house he runs. High class whorehouse.
Sara waved her hands and laughed delightedly. "I don't know! You'll have to meet him to find out, you'll have to hear him talk."
Lee grunted.
Sara ate, absorbed for a minute and spoke again just as Lee was taking a drink of coffee. "Maybe some night I could invite Martin and Joni Peach over for a cocktail?" And she watched a small explosion occur in Lee's coffee cup and brown liquid splattered around as Lee coughed for air.
Sara got up and slapped him on the back. "What on earth is the matter?"
"Something caught in my throat or swallowed the wrong way, I don't know."
She sat back down and resumed eating.
"Anyway, what do you think of the idea?"
Lee tried to put on a banker's face while he thought. "Martin and Joni Peach, huh?" The thought made wild raucous laughter explode in his mind. He'd like nothing better! He cleared his throat. "I'll think about it, sleep on it, and let you know how I feel tomorrow."
Sara gave him a luxury smile, sure he would see things her way.
And, at work, alone in his office, pretending to study some old trust deeds, he did think about it. Whatever he thought, it was going to be forgotten, for in a little while, Joni Peach was going to walk into his bank, looking magnificent, meet Lee and demurely put a hissing bomb in his lap.
Lee had slept one night and then returned to the window again after Sara had fallen asleep and found the drapes securely closed and the room dark. He had sat, shivering, for hours hoping someone would come into the room, tormented by what he could imagine was happening inside the house. He had sat for hours before finally getting up and going home to bed, weary, frustrated, and irritable. The next night it was the same and for every night after that when Lee dragged his weary body across the lawn and sat, in a sullen stupor.
Finally, slowly, he began to accept the fact that the party was over, that he would never see anything again. Even though he was exhausted to the point of being surly to employees, he could not sleep. He tossed and turned with his thoughts always on the house across the way. He| even considered getting in his car at night and prowling, finding another window, and watching. It would be exciting, but it would never be the same.
Nothing, not even the fanciest whorehouse in Bombay or Marseilles, or Naples, or Port Said, nothing could excel the last night he had seen through the drapes. Never in his life had he seen such a depraved orgy.
He lay awake, night after night, thinking about it, recalling and savoring details.
Three people were already in the room, on the bed, by the time Lee crept to his accustomed watching place. His heart skipped a beat as he saw a light on and the curtain opened just a slit at the far end of the room, away from the bed.
Lee wiggled up close to the window and got to his hands and knees to see. Three figures on the bed, all naked. Two men and a ... boy! Lee almost moaned out loud then tried hard to swallow as he looked closer and saw it was really a young girl. She was slim and small, like a teenager, with slim boyish hips and small, budding breasts. To heighten the illusion, she had her hair cut short and severe, like a boy's.
She was sitting on the bed naked, her hands behind her for support while one man knelt beside her and roughly fondled her breasts while the other man spread her legs and knelt between them and let his hands trail up her lovely legs and to the insides of her small firm thighs to her cunt which he began to massage in a hungry manner.
Lee could see that both of the men were excised, their pricks rising as they manhandled the unresisting girl who leaned further back, wincing as their hands pinched her flesh, and let them do whatever they wanted.
Lee jumped back as the door opened and two people, a man and a woman, fully clothed, tiptoed into the room and sat down on a couch next to where he was watching, their eyes never leaving the trio on the bed.
The trio paid no attention to the intruders, but went about their business. Both men were wearing lewd, anticipatory smiles as one of them lowered his head and pinched the nipple of the young girl's breast between two fingers and sucked at the taut, exposed nipple. He bit and sucked both breasts, one after the other as the girl let her body fall back on the bed, her legs split wide and her knees bent. The man who had been massaging her cunt with his fingers, spreading the lips widely, pinching her clitoris and savagely probing his finger into her hot tight little cunt, suddenly stopped and grinned.
Lee felt the blood rushing to his head as he saw the man crudely shove his hands under the I buried his open mouth into her moist, spread, The two men grew increasingly rough with the girl, throwing and shoving her around the bed, licking, sucking, biting her body all over while their coarse hands seized her flesh and squeezed it.
Lee had his rock-hard cock in his hand as he turned his head and saw the man and woman sitting on the couch, their mouths open, their eyes glazed as if they were drugged. They were a couple in their forties, good-looking, well dressed. The husband could have been a successful lawyer. In fact, he was, one of the most successful in the country, flown to this bedroom with his wife at Peach's invitation. He had come to watch. That is what he liked to do; simply sit in a corner and watch other people making love. But his wife was not of that mind. As Lee turned his head from the bed to the couch, he saw the woman slowly undressing herself, her large bosom heaving as she watched the trio on the bed.
The two men were getting rougher, almost pummeling the girl now, forcing her body to the near-comer of the bed so that her head draped over one side and her legs over the other corner. With a laugh of sultry glee, one man leaped off the bed and knelt by the girl's head and took it, boyish haircut and all, in his hands and plunged his cock into her willing, sucking, mouth. The other man spread her legs wide, scratching, the girl's thighs as he did so, then shoved his cock home into her cunt so hard the girl shuddered and grunted in momentary pain up around the cock in her mouth.
What followed was unbelievable to Lee. Not the most depraved ruler in the ancient world ever saw a more licentious sight. The poor girl's backbone was bent as far as it could go while her head hung upside down on one side of the bed and a man was kneeling, holding her head tight while he fucked her in the mouth with all his might. The other man held the girl's slim buttocks in a viselike embrace and fucked up between her wildly flailing legs with all his might. The girl's body seemed tattooed with scratches, welts, bruises, and red spots as the men fucked her savagely, her body twisting and bucking, covered with sweat. And moving; undulating, oozing, sucking, with all her might.
The girl was loving it! The more savage and pagan it became, the more she loved it! And so did the lawyer's wife, next to him on the couch. She was naked now and slumped back in her seat. Although forty, her figure was still good. Her breasts were large and still held their shape, her belly and thighs full, almost too full, yet still enticing and lewd. Lee looked at her face. Never had he seen such a depraved and hungry look on a human face. Lust was in her eyes, in her parted red lips and white teeth. She was slumped back on the couch watching the trio, her eyes dreamy and half-closed, her fingers running over her breasts, her stomach, her naked thighs.
The men were like demons, fucking now as if the end of the world was five seconds away, fucking with a suicidal strength and frenzy and the man fucking the girl in the mouth groaned first and spurted white-hot cum deep into her already gulping throat, ballooning her cheeks then the other man groaned and gripped the girl's hips in his arms like he wanted to break her spine and came in great shuddering loads into the young, girl's quivering and lust-inflamed cunt.
To Lee's amazement, the two men slipped away from the girl, spent, leaving her still writhing like an unfulfilled tigress on the bed, wild, her face contorted with passion. She sprang to all fours at the same time the lawyer's wife got up from the couch.
Then, they were at each other, rolling, tossing, embracing, on the bed with the boyish-looking girl ending up on top of the lawyer's wife, kissing her full on the mouth and grinding her hips hard between her open thighs. The lawyer's wife spread her legs willingly and let the young girl do what she wanted. And she was wild. She was almost hissing as she attacked the woman's body, rolling her over and roughly spreading the full rounded cheek's of her buttocks and darting her tongue over her anus and then cruelly plunging her finger up to the first joint. She was a whirlwind and Lee could almost hear her growl as she sucked and bit the woman all over. Finally, she concentrated on the woman's cunt, spreading the lips of her vagina as wide as it would go while the lawyer's wife lay with her arms flung out, her mouth open, her eyes shut and her head thrashing slowly about in ecstasy.
Then the girl jumped up and looked wildly around the room and saw a black bag, sitting on the floor, next to one of the men who was lying on his side, watching. She snapped it open, kneeling next to it while looking back at the woman on the bed. Standing up, she began fastening a sort of harness around her waist and between her legs. Lee gasped as he watched and saw it was a dildo, an artificial penis! It was made of hardened rubber and looked startlingly real! The girl made some hasty adjustment and stood in the middle of the room pouring baby oil over the phallus. It was huge! Bigger than anything Lee had ever seen, bigger than was possible to get inside any woman!
Now the slim young girl was by the bed, pouring the remains of the oil over the body of the lawyer's wife who looked at the dildo in astonishment and dismay. The two men on the floor jumped to their knees and clamped her down on the bed. Lee watched her mouth moving, pleading, as the two men, holding her ankles, drew her legs wide apart and the young girl knelt between them with a lewd triumphant smile. The lawyer's wife pleaded for mercy but she would have better spent her time pleading -with a stone wall. The girl moved forward on her knees guiding the monstrous dildo so that its huge bulbous head rested against the woman's widespread cunt. Gathering her weight, her lovely little buttocks tight and high above, the young girl slowly began to shove the dildo into the woman's cunt. It was so thick, it made the lips of her cunt look like two tight hair-lined rubber bands clenched tightly around the thick shaft as it sunk mercilessly home.
Lee had his orgasm as he watched the two of them begin a rhythmic perverted fucking. And loving it!
Sitting at his desk in the bank, his mind going over each sordid and depraved detail, Lee felt his temples throbbing and his loins pounding. He had to have a piece of tail! He had to! He would go insane soon! He was on the verge of getting up and doing something, anything, when there was a knock at his door and it opened, his secretary stepped in. "Excuse me, Mr. Driscoll?"
Lee blinked at her. "Yes?."
"Is anything wrong?"
"Wrong? No, Why? Why should you think so?"
"You ... you looked at me strangely when I came in."
"Did I? Must have had something on my mind."
"Oh. There is a Mrs. Joni Peach here and she insists on seeing you."
Lee swallowed, and replied in a nervous tone of voice, "Show her in."
CHAPTER SIX
Martin Peach stood on the balcony of the country club, looking over the tennis courts, watching his voluptuous young neighbor, Sara Driscoll, at a fast game of tennis. There was no doubt about it, she had a figure that had more than one man staring. Martin watched her and knew she was in excellent shape. He also knew from the few frosty glances she threw his way, that she disliked him. Martin smiled to himself and looked elsewhere, taking in the pleasant surroundings as he strolled. Plenty of women started off hating him. It was an occupational hazard. He did, after all, deal with people's most intimate and revealing emotions. Why shouldn't anyone be on their guard around a shrink. He smiled and strolled, planning his luncheon talk.
Discreetly, he had it arranged so that Sara sat on one side of him and her mother on the other, allowing time for small talk before and after the lecture.
Sara was mildly upset when she discovered the seating arrangement, thinking that they would be at some other table where Martin Peach might not even see their presence or at least not be able to talk to them directly. With a shrug, she sat, thinking she could be a lady.
"Ah, Mrs. Driscoll. And this charming lady must be your mother. I can see a strong family resemblance." Martin proceeded to detail what he saw in her mother's face, being most complimentary to both women. Seating himself, he rolled his eyes and said, "Watch Martin Peach get his comeuppance."
Sara cocked her head. "I beg your pardon?"
"I deserve this moment."
A polite laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Martin put a hand to his eyes. "For that ghastly afternoon when we visited your place."
Sara waved a hand. "Really? I had forgotten all about it."
Martin looked at her, his eyes twinkling. "You mean you forgot I was there?"
Sara laughed. "No, I didn't mean that at all."
Martin nodded indulgently. "Of course you didn't. We made quite an impression on you that afternoon. All bad, I'm afraid."
Sara didn't feel that this was the place to discuss it. "It's quite all right."
"No, it isn't," Martin insisted. "You must give me a chance to explain. I've made several mental, notes to go over and apologize and explain, then have conveniently forgotten. You must forgive me and understand. I work with a great many disturbed people. That is my work. Occasionally, we have psychodramas in which patients act out their problems. Have you ever heard of this method of therapy?"
Sara was not to be caught flat-footed. She had read a few things about it. "Yes, although I don't know much about it."
"Fascinating!" Martin said. "Really, you'd be surprised at the things that come out and the cases that have been helped, by such a therapy. Unfortunately, it has its drawbacks too." Martin sat back and looked thoughtful. "With some patients, it has an adverse effect. With people who are deeply disturbed, it becomes a role to hide behind. A well-disguised way of playing games."
Sara wrinkled her nose. "How do you mean?"
"Well, with some subjects, particularly those that are intelligent and quick-witted, it becomes a way of playing a role, of giving out false and, misleading information, of leading the therapist away from what is truly bothering them rather than getting at the root of their ills."
Sara looked thoughtful. "I see. I had never thought about that."
"Well, believe me, I have to think about it.
Now, I've had this couple. Their marriage is having troubles and they came to me for help. They drink. They went through psychodramas and were getting nowhere. In fact, .they got much worse and I soon realized that they were using the drama, the acting-out of their lives to hide the real problem from me, from each other, and worst of all, from themselves. Now, they came to me for help. I can't always help people. I've failed. But I never stop trying. In order to find out just how they really felt (they were coming to sessions half-loaded and acting so cute and tricky) Joni - who is a trained nurse - and I tried to act out their marital scene. We did it and it must have looked ridiculous to anyone who saw us acting that way. The one thing I didn't count on was the whiskey. After we got through and I made notes, Joni felt depressed by all that and wanted to change the subject and scenery and suggested we go visit you." Martin smiled and shrugged. "You know the rest. When we got to you, thanks to the whiskey that we're not used to at that time of the day, we slipped back into that role."
Sara looked puzzled. "Really?"
Martin laughed. "I know it sounds like the most implausible story in the world, but it's true!"
Sara looked at Martin Peach for a moment. He seemed so sincere, so different. Perhaps his story seemed so absurd it could only be true.
She wanted to believe him.
Martin smiled. "The situations I get into.
Listen, once I was trying to cure a patient of stuttering..." and he proceeded to tell a hilariously funny story about how he had been completely misunderstood.
Martin's voice was like a combination of velvet and silk as he talked. People liked listening to him as he went on in a smooth way. Soon, Sara was completely enchanted with him as was her mother as they both bent forward to hear him talk about mental health and the problems he worked with every day and the solutions he saw. Sara found her first image of Martin Peach melting away. She wanted to know more about his work and plans for a center in town and Martin talked glowingly and in detail about what he wanted to do. Eventually, he wanted a self-supporting center for the study of human behavior that would lead people toward a more happy, fulfilled, satisfying life.
While Martin was speaking in his fascinating way a part of Sara's mind was becoming aware of personal questions that she, herself, wanted someday to ask of a qualified therapist ... Perhaps someone like Martin Peach could help her with her own unspoken problems. Then suddenly, Martin was introduced and was on his feet, acknowledging the applause.
He stood, handsome and modest, until the applause died down, thanking them with a quiet nod. "I am ..." he paused, looking down, "I am so flattered to be here today. Looking around this room, I see such tanned, healthy and attractive people and I know, since you belong to such nice surroundings, that you are all fairly happy and successful in life." He paused again and smiled around the room. "You are not my usual crowd." A titter and chuckle ran through the room. "No, I can relax and enjoy myself today because I won't be talking to people who have problems they can't handle or aren't aware of." Martin looked serious and pointed a finger out over them. "All of you, that is, except one."
He paused to sip water and let his message sink in as the occupants of the room looked around at each other. "One of you," Martin began in a slow and quiet voice so that everyone had to strain to hear him, "is disturbed. Sick. Ill at ease. One of you has a deep dark terrible secret so awful that you can't tell anyone. One of you. One."
He paused again and let his message sink home deeper. Then with a shrug and a smile, his voice lifting, "How do I know? Did somebody confide in me prior to this luncheon? No. Can I read minds? No. Did I happen to latch on to a juicy tidbit of gossip?" He nodded seriously. "I do. All the time. You should hear the things confided in me. But that is not how I know. Simple experience and training tells me that, in a group this large, one person has to be deeply upset. I cite the law of averages."
A quiet, restrained, collective sigh of relief went around the room and Martin laughed genially, "So you can all relax ... Since I know there is one person here in great need I think I shall direct most of my remarks to that person, whoever it is. The rest of you can listen in!"
Sara was suddenly thrilled. He was talking to her, to her alone, even though he didn't know it. She sat forward, intent on all he had to say. So did her mother. So did every other human being in that room. Each thought he was talking only to them and Martin talked on and on in high-blown psychiatric phrases.
Sara sat with her mouth practically open as she listened to Martin Peach speak. He was so completely different from the Martin she had previously met. Here was a man who had a deep and abiding concern for his fellow man. As he talked, she learned of his background: it was scholarly and varied. He talked with authority about the mind and cited endless cases proving it was capable of pulling tricks on us. "Ego," he intoned, "is both our salvation and our downfall. It is our ego which takes slights, feels hurt and unappreciated. It is also our ego that forces man up mountains and across oceans, which makes us build skyscrapers and fly to the moon. Ego is our strength and our weakness. One definition of maturity could be: Coming to terms with your ego. Realizing it is but a part of you, not all of you. It is important to try to realize this in, say, times of great jealousy which I'm sure we've all felt. It is possible to be objective and realize it is your ego that is jealous, not all of you."
Martin was growing excited, his voice was increasing in volume and warmth. "I tell you, to me there is no more exciting thing to see than that moment when a patient stands aside from himself and objectively watches his ego in operation and recognizes it for what it is. When sanity comes into another life, then my life makes a little more sense, then my life is more meaningful. What a wonderful magical moment it is for me when I see, when I know, that a patient finally understands what I've been saying over and over at the risk of sounding like a damn fool. Oh! the patient then seems to say, so that's what the doctor meant all along. And lives change. We have a rapport, we can learn from one another, enjoy one another and those around us. The mere fact that someone disagrees with us no longer seems important. I tell you, that moment is really a magical moment and that makes it all worthwhile to me."
Martin Peach paused and looked slowly around the room. "I say that these magical moments help make some sense out of my life because, when all is said and done, I don't really know. Even with all of my training and practice I must admit that I know very little. There is still so little known about the everyday workings of our minds. For instance, we know that we dream but we don't really know how or even why we dream. We can only theorize about that. Half the time, Em floundering. I don't think I'm alone. Any psychiatrist worth his salt will admit that. We are filled constantly with worry and doubt because we deal with worry and doubt." He paused again and smiled charmingly. "So, my intention is to start a center in your town. An awareness center where we can honestly approach the problem of understanding one another and ourselves with all the knowledge available. If our methods seem a little strange or challenging to you, bear with us, and remember, we're also human and fallible like anyone else, but we're trying." Martin looked around the room again. Every face, even the busboy's, was turned to him. From outside, far away, came the happy cries of children in the club pool. Martin put his hands at his sides and spoke quietly. "Thank you."
The room burst into applause and several people were standing. Sara Driscoll found herself deeply moved. She applauded with vigor yet her face was serious, preoccupied. Could she ever talk to a man like Martin Peach about her dead brother and all the events and about how she felt?
The luncheon ended late and Sara's mother talked to Martin for a few minutes then excused herself, planning to return home to errands that must be done before dinner. "Are you coming, my dear?" she asked, turning to Sara.
Sara, pensive, surprised herself by suddenly saying, "I don't think so. That tennis tired me. I may have a rundown." As she talked to her mother, she stared across the room at the tall handsome figure of Martin Peach who was chatting with a knot of people.
"I've told you that you play tennis altogether too much," her mother scolded.
"Yes, Mother." Across the room, he seemed almost a father to Sara.
"You need your rest."
What for? Sara wanted to ask but only said, "Yes, Mother."
All Sara could think about as her mother prattled on about things was: how wrong I was about him. He is a kind man, a gentle man. He really cares about people.
"Did you hear what I was saying?"
"Yes, Mother."
"Give my love to Lee."
Lee. At the sound of his name Sara realized, with a sinking feeling, that she didn't really want to go home. That home was somehow dismal and lonely. That Lee was polite but remote, that small talk was labored at and that they were hardly ever intimate or affectionate. At home, she was living a lie. There was something she wasn't telling Lee.
"I said, give my love to Lee."
Sara focused on her mother. "Huh? Yes, of course."
"Is something wrong?" "No, I was just thinking about the weekend.' We might go away."
"That would be good for you." Sara looked at her mother with a barely disguised rueful smile. With her mother talking away, here she was, thinking of something profound in her life. She forced her attention on her mother and they finally said good-bye and Sara stood, not knowing what she was going to do with her afternoon. The last thing in the world she wanted was a rubdown. She wandered out to the veranda. Martin Peach was still talking with some women so she sat at an umbrellaed table and ordered a ginger ale and sat sipping it, thinking.
"You were the one person I was talking to." Sara didn't turn or move. She knew the voice was that of Martin Peach. He had walked up silently behind her. He came slowly into view and smiled down at her. "I'm going to burst a bubble by saying every single person present in there thought I was talking to them. Honest. The speech is designed with that in mind. In one sense, it is a trick. Snake oil salesmen have been using it since time immemorial."
Sara shaded her eyes and smiled up. "Are you suggesting you are a charlatan, Dr. Peach?"
Martin nodded. "I had something more along the lines of a showman in mind. May I sit down?"
Sara grinned. "I'd be delighted." Martin sat down, folded his hands and looked at her warmly. "That speech doesn't mean that I wouldn't really like to talk to you as a person."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Later, after Joni Peach had left his office, Lee Driscoll couldn't remember much. Rather, he remembered too much all at once. He sat, numb, thoroughly confused.
He remembered her coming into his office. He remembered it in vivid detail. She came with a huge tousled crown of hair framing a face that looked like it was made from the most delicate porcelain china. She came with wide pale blue eyes that seemed tilted and full sensuous lips that revealed snow-white teeth. She came with a beauty mark on her cheek and her neck was long and slim and as white as a wedding cake. She came through the door in a tight green micro-minidress that seemed or pretended to hide her body but only succeeded in showing it off all the more brazenly.
From the way she moved under the dress, it was obvious she wasn't wearing anything more than a body stocking. Lee had seen them advertised and had urged Sara to get one but naturally she had reacted by raising an eyebrow and changing the subject. Yet, here in front of him, smiling at him, was Joni Peach and he could tell, by the way her breasts moved freely and fluidly, that she was wearing nothing more than a body stocking on the topside also. His eyes, narrowed, went to the cleavage of her dress where he saw her breasts almost meeting in twin I hills of soft, snowy woman-flesh.
Mrs. Martin Peach strode across his office toward him, smiling. She seemed more to shimmer and undulate across the room, her long lovely thighs completely exposed, her hips moving freely and sensuously. It wasn't a stripper's walk although it was close to it. It was closer to the confident walk of a sleek female animal that knew it was beautiful and enticing and was enjoying it.
"Are you Lee Driscoll?" All Lee could do was nod. "Good," she said, mocking his nod. "That's what the name plate on your desk says. Sit down, it's safe, you are who you are and you are where you're supposed to be." "I beg your pardon?"
Joni put her hands almost challengingly on her hips and cocked her head. "Why?"
Lee blinked twice before he echoed, "Why?" "Why do you beg my pardon?"
"I was going to offer you a chair."
The warm, curvaceous woman looked at him and laughed. "Why, thank you kindly, Banker Driscoll." And she sat, giggling up at Lee. "You can sit too."
"Huh?" Lee went behind his desk. "Yes, of course."
"Anybody ever call you that before?"
"Call me what? Banker? No, come to think of it, they haven't."
"Well." Joni crossed her legs. "Well, at least I'm some sort of 'first' in your life."
"Oh," was all Lee could say as he thought she had little idea of really how much of a 'first' she had actually been in his life. He sat slowly, unable to look at her face as he watched her slowly cross her legs. In the micro-mini, he could see all of her lovely thighs and an alarming, groan-provoking area of one lovely hip and buttock. He sat shifting in his chair, trying to relieve the swelling in his shorts and trying, with; all his might, not to think of her as he had seen her: naked and lewd.
"Well, what brings you to our establishment, Mrs. Peach?" he asked, trying to sound professional and aloof with just the right amount of friendliness in his smile.
"You."
"Me?" Joni grinned at him, the smile gradually spreading over her wide mouth. II seemed smutty, indulgent, knowing. "You," she repeated.
Lee shifted in his seat. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."
Joni let her arms fall in her lap. "We're neighbors. I wanted to do some banking. You know, money. Loot. So, naturally, I thought of Lee heaved a sigh and permitted himself a laugh of relief. "Yes, yes, I know. I'm sorry I hadn't met either you or Dr. Peach yet. I keep ... banker's hours."
Joni laughed. "I bet they're tiring."
Lee agreed with a careful smile. Could it be they knew? That he had been discovered? Quickly, he put it from his mind, telling himself that it wasn't possible for them to know and go on as they had. Still, there was a lingering doubt. The drapes had been tightly closed and the room dark for several nights. "Well, what is it that we can do for you in the way of banking?"
"I'd like to open a personal savings account. Just mad money my husband gives me. Dr. Peach is prone to spend money if it's around and I always like a little in reserve." She winked at Lee. "You know."
"Yes. Well, I think we might be able to handle that." He paused for a moment, thinking he had never aided anyone in opening an account before and wasn't too sure of the procedure. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll get some papers for you to sign."
He was up and heading out of his office before he realized that any one of several receptionists could have done the same for her. Had probably, in fact, offered to do it for her but she must have refused and insisted on seeing him personally. Also, he realized with a tight smile that he could just as easily turn her over to someone who could do it for her. Nothing was further from his mind. He was efficient and crisp with his secretary. "I want all the necessary forms for opening a savings account brought to my office."
"Yes sir."
He went back to Joni Peach, who was smoking a cigarette and looking out the window, one arm hooked back over the edge of the chair with one breast beautifully outlined. Lee couldn't look away from that breast. It was so full, so soft, with its nipple pressed against the green fabric and jutting out. He wanted to rip her dress off and hold that naked breast so big and so beautiful in both his hands and suck wildly on the nipple.
His secretary broke the spell by coming in sooner than he anticipated and handed him a card while giving the older woman a dirty look. "Is this all?" he asked, looking at the card.
"That's all any depositor ever needs," the secretary said coldly with still another withering look at Joni who didn't seem to notice or care. She was smiling up at Lee.
"Thank you very much," Lee said, strolling behind the desk while reading the card. It was all very simple and he would be able to help her fill it out with no trouble at all. "Yes, this will do," he said to his intimately smiling neighbor as the secretary closed the door.
Joni Peach looked at him, a shadow of seriousness coming over her. "You know, you're very attractive, Mr. Driscoll." The bomb had gone off. Lee couldn't move. She leaned forward, her exquisite breasts jellying out from her dress white and enticing. Her voice was lower and her face serious. "You are, you know."
"What?" Lee stared at her, perspiration breaking out all over his body. He stared while her lips moved lasciviously as if she were kissing, sucking his body. All this was unreal, all this wasn't happening. It was a dream and in a few moments, he would awaken to groan in frustration. The woman, the witch he had seen performing such lewd things in that window couldn't be here and talking to him in such a familiar way right here in his own office.
"You say we haven't met. True. But, I've seen you." She paused to smile wickedly. Lee felt as if he couldn't catch his breath. She knew! She had seen him and still gone ahead! He felt his eyes were going to bug out of his head. "What?" he asked in a strained voice.
Joni Peach edged closer, her voice down to a smooth purr. "I've seen you many times. In the mornings, going off to work. In the evenings, when you came home. I've seen you going out with your wife." She sat back in her chair and regarded him with a cool and amused expression. "I'm telling you that I've been watching you, Mr. Lee "Banker" Driscoll. Watching you like some schoolgirl peeking out from behind a curtain., What do you think of that, Banker?"
All Lee could do was stare at this mad, maddening woman.
"Cat got your tongue?" she asked, blowing smoke in his direction. She smiled and shrugged after a pause. "Okay. If that's the way you want it. Supposing you let me have that card you're twisting in your hands and I'll fill it out."
"What! Yes, here you are!" Lee said, his voice hoarse and shaking. He stared down at the card and grinned, eager to have something to talk about that wasn't dangerous. "Yes, I think it is all self-explanatory. Quite simple really. You just answer a few questions and sign at the bottom." He reversed the card and slid it across the desk top like he was offering a piece of raw meat to a hungry tiger: cautiously.
Joni smiled at him sweetly and didn't move. "I'd fill it out with a fingernail dipped in ink, but I don't see an inkwell."
Lee, barely hearing her words, squinting his eyes so that he could surreptitiously look at her breasts, said, "Hmmmmmm? Oh, yes, of course, a pen." Nervous, acting like a spastic, he tore his pen free from his pocket and waved it in the air. "Here's one!" he said, feeling idiotic. He rose to hand it to her and she thanked him and leaned forward to fill out the application. Lee felt his groin bulge as he saw her full white breasts nakedly exposed clear down to the pink rim of her nipples.
Joni Peach took her time filling out the application, reading everything carefully, then writing in a neat painstaking hand. Lee couldn't move or take his eyes from her breasts even though he was breaking out in a visible sweat. The woman squirmed into a more comfortable writing position, and her breasts undulated and one breast ballooned further out of her dress and Lee had to clutch the chair to keep himself from leaping across the desk and attacking her.
Finally, she looked up and smiled. "All done. Where do I sign, banker-man?"
"At the bottom."
"Where at the bottom?"
"Where it says 'signature'."
Joni never took her eyes' from Lee's face.
"Where? I can't find it."
"Right at the bottom. There's a space for it."
Her smile was mischievous with just a touch of lewdness to it. "I want you to come over and show me."
Lee held his breath. He wanted to yell aloud. Here was a woman, a most desirable woman, a woman he had watched perform wild sexual acts completely uninhibited, throwing herself at him. Take it, man, take it! he screamed over and over again in his mind. Stand up and take it right here.
He felt dizzy, and his breath was light and shallow. A heady, wild image of the two of them naked in the office, making love, fucking on the couch, on the rug, on the desk. Ah, yes, he'd love to have her naked and lewd on the desk!
Yet, he could do nothing. All he could do was get halfway up, his erection too stiff and big to allow him to stand without showing it, and reach across the table and point with his finger. "Right there," he said as his voluptuous neighbor leaned toward him, their faces close and her pale blue eyes large and soft, her mouth wide and her lips wet.
"Thank you," she breathed, still not looking where he pointed. Lee could smell a perfume and her female body heat, a mixture that was musky and sensuous, suggesting the lewd scenes and nights at the window.
He fell back into his seat and managed a weak smile. Joni continued to stare at him for a moment before shrugging and scratching out her signature, then making - a check out with a flourish. "There. All done," she said brightly. "Now, if I may have one small favor?"
"What's that?" Lee asked, wary.
"If I may borrow a piece of scratch paper?"
"Scratch paper?"
"Yes. Anything. Some of that memo paper next to you would be fine," she said, pointing a long orange fingernail. "Yes!" Lee tore one free and gave it to her. Joni wrote quickly, then folded the paper and placed it on his blotter in front of him. She clicked his pen and looked at it. "Nice pen. Expensive yet tasteful." She placed it down on the desk and stood up. "That paper contains an address. It is a restaurant and bar. Between five and five-thirty this evening, I shall be there. Ill be in the cocktail lounge which has good music, low lights and the booths are arranged so that they allow for privacy and intimate talk without fear of being overheard. As I said, I will be there. I'll be waiting for you. If you're not there by five-thirty, I'll assume you're not interested in me and I'll leave and never bother you again. If you are at all interested in knowing me better, if you wonder at all why I would do such a brazen thing as I have, if you wonder Why I would make such an obvious pass at a man I've never met before, well, you can find all that out, and more, by simply showing up. Thank you and good day to you, Mr. Lee Driscoll."
With a toss of her thick auburn hair, she walked to the door with her buttocks squirming sensuously like warm honey in a balloon and looked back. "Don't bother to show me out. I know the way." She put her hand on the doo and gave him a slow wink. "Good-bye, Lee. S you later."
And she was gone.
Lee sat alone in his office not knowing what to think. He sat for a long time before he eve" saw the note in front of him on his blotter. H snatched at it and put it in his pocket. Getting up, he went to his private bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, then rubbed it hard and went out and rang for his secretary. The door sprang open immediately. His secretary must have been standing behind it. She came in full of harpy glances like an avenging angel. "Yes?" she said coldly.
He waved at the desk. "Would you please take care of that for me?"
"By all means," she said, scooping them u and reading the signature. "Joni Peach. Married I see," she said, her eyes narrowing.
"Yes," was all Lee could manage. He shuffled some papers and tried to look busy.
"Mr. Driscoll, I tried to take care of her, but she insisted on seeing you." Lee managed a smile. "Thank you." His secretary looked at him coldly a moment before asking, "Is she a friend of yours?" "Never met her before," Lee mumbled, reading a paper and realizing that, unless he did something, word would be around the bank and might someday find its way to Sara's father. "Isn't that odd?" he offered.
"Yes, isn't it. What does she do, this Mrs. Peach?" she asked, dripping with sweetness. "I understand she is a doctor's wife." "Oh? Never saw one like that before." "Yes," Lee agreed, warming up as he regained his senses. "He is some kind of a psychiatrist or therapist. Yes, come to think of it, she was odd. They are renting a house near to us and my wife had met them, so I guess that is the reason she insisted on seeing me." He paused, then added, "Strange, but my wife's reaction was one of puzzlement, too. She is odd."
"She's more than odd. I'd say she was outright indecent." The secretary looked grim.
Lee chided her. "I think that's a little hasty. However, I'd appreciate it if, the next time she comes in and wants to see me, you'd tell a little white lie and say I'm in conference or tied up for the rest of the day." His secretary looked relieved and maternal, cocking her head and beaming at' him. certainly will, Mr. Driscoll."
"Thank you."
"Any time."
"Thank you."
"Happy to do it."
"Er, that will be all now."
"A woman like that," she muttered or shaking her head.
"Yes, I'll call you if I need you."
"And you with such a lovely wife."
"Thank you." Lee sat tense, waiting to pounce when the door closed. Then he had the note out of his pocket. The address was familiar to him, in a part of town on the outskirts', where he seldom went. In fact, as he thought, he couldn't think of anyone he knew that lived or did business in that end of town. The choice of location was good.
As he sat pondering the possibilities of being seen, he had yet to admit to himself that he was going to go.
Hypnotically, he picked up the phone and asked for an outside line. He sat, his face expressionless, as he listened to the phone buzz in his ear one, two, three times. Then a click and the bright voice of his wife saying, "Hello?"
"Hello, darling. Listen, something has come up. Are we having anyone over for dinner tonight?"
A pause before Sara answered, "No, although I was thinking of calling you and asking if you'd like to have the Driscolls over for cocktails."
Lee didn't even blink or hesitate. "I'm glad you haven't. I've got to meet old man Jackson about his estate planning right after work. I'm sorry, it's inconvenient, yet it's unavoidable. He apologized. Seems he's going out of town."
Sara paused. "You'll be having dinner with him then?"
For the first time since Joni Peach had left his office, Lee's face showed some expression. He smiled. He had intended to give an excuse for an hour or so; pretend he was meeting just for cocktails. Now, Sara was suggesting the whole evening. He took the chance. "I'm afraid so. Do you mind?"
"A little. I'll miss you and you haven't been too well lately, but I understand. Will you come home to freshen up?"
Lee grinned broadly. The idea of going home first hadn't occurred to him either. It would add a little excitement to the evening. "Yes, I will. Could you have a shirt and suit laid out?"
"Sure. Anything in particular?"
Lee's grin was malicious. He loved his wife, but he was now going to pay her back for all those long, lonely nights she had denied him. "You pick it out. Something I'd look my best in."
"Leave it to me."
While driving in his car to the address J Peach had given him, Lee had to admit his wife's taste was good. He had kissed her goodbye and told her he would call if he was going to be too late. Then he was driving past the cocktail lounge very slowly, checking his watch to see that it was five minutes after five, and he didn't recognize any of the cars parked around. Then he was sitting in his car in the lot, his heart pounding and his palms sweaty, trying to think of a plausible story should he run into anyone inside. Once at her table, once with this woman, he knew he wouldn't be able to think of any plausible story. So, with a heady feeling of suicidal excitement, a what-the-hell attitude, he got out of his car and walked into the lounge.
It was like walking into ink. The room was dark and low jazz music drifted through the air, mingling with the murmur of voices. It was still light outside and his eyes couldn't adjust to the change and he stood with one hand out, feeling his way, panicked by the sudden thought that she might not even be here. How would he feel if he were stood up?
A figure came toward him, a waitress in a miniskirt with a cap on her head. "May I help you?" she asked in a low, friendly voice.
"Yes." Lee paused, thinking, what do I say?
Ask for her by name? "I'm meeting a friend here."
"Yes?" the waitress asked. "A young lady."
The waitress smiled knowingly in the dark. "This way, sir, follow me."
Lee followed her wiggling buttocks into the dark, threading among tables and booths until the waitress stopped and stepped aside, holding an arm out. Lee slid into the booth and turned to see Joni Peach next to him. She seemed to boil as he sat next to her, her mouth open and smiling. "I'm so glad you could come." "I'll have a Scotch and soda," Lee told the waitress, seeing that Joni already had a glass in front of her.
The waitress vanished in the thick darkness and Joni seized his hand and squeezed it. "Isn't this exciting?" "What?"
"This. Doing something you know is wrong." "I guess so. But getting away with it is the trick."
The waitress returned and set the drink down.
Joni didn't waste any time once the waitress left. She put her hand on Lee's thigh and caressed it while she leaned toward him, exposing her breasts, almost down to the nipple and kissed him full on the mouth, her hot wicked tongue flicking teasingly in his mouth.
Lee exploded. All the pent-up passion in him gushed loose and he grabbed her roughly and kissed her as hard as he could, running his own tongue deep back in her mouth while his next door neighbor's hand groped down over his loins. They pulled apart and were breathing hard. Lee's brain felt like it was frying in a skillet.
They looked at each other with an intimate lewdness. Lee ran his hands up her rib cage and cupped her full, firm breasts in his hands and felt them soft and free. Joni took one of his hands and guided it into her dress and Lee, with a moan, discovered what he had suspected when he had seen her in his office; she wore no bra! His hand explored the soft warm flesh and found the nipple already taut and pointed. With his other hand, he felt her soft naked thigh and ran it up to the edge of her miniskirt. Here, he paused a pulsating second, wedging his hands between her thighs and, as she slowly spread them before him he ran his trembling fingers on up. Up, up, until his fingers brushed against the soft pubic hair between her legs and he shuddered throughout his body as he outlined the moistly swelling lips of her cunt! Her body stocking had an opening there, leaving her pussy completely exposed.
Joni, breathing hard, pulled free and held up a warning hand. "We've got to go someplace or put on a floor show right here," she whispered.
Lee tried to compose himself and readjust his trousers to accommodate his swelling prick. "You're right. Where?"
Her eyes widened in surprise. "You're asking me? You're the man. You think of someplace."
Lee's face twisted in despair. "The truth is, I've never done anything like this before. I guess we go to a motel or a hotel." Joni Peach made a face. "That's so dreary." Reluctantly, Lee agreed. "Let's see. No, I don't have any friend's place to borrow."
His neighbor's wife took a drink. "Well, I guess this little fling is over before it gets started."
Lee couldn't say or do anything more than stare at his glass.
They sat in silence, toying with their drinks and lighting cigarettes until Joni, with a tiny undetected glint in her eyes, said, "There's always my place."
Lee snapped his head around. It was too much to believe! All those nights of yearning to be in .that orgiastic room and now it was really being offered to him! Yes! he almost shouted, then composed himself to ask, "What about your husband?"
She quietly sipped her drink. "He's gone overnight to Cleveland. I'm alone at home."
Lee swallowed, his mouth dry. "But, my wife."
Joni cocked an eyebrow. "How's she ever going, to know?" "She'll see us."
"We drive up on the other side of the house. There's a door there."
"My car. Supposing she sees my car? Supposing the neighbors see my car?"
Joni heaved a sigh and laughed, shaking her head. "You really are a novice, aren't you?"
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she said, running her tongue in lewd anticipation around her lips. "I like you the way you are, Park your car behind the lounge here and we go in my car."
Lee felt like he was a hummingbird stuck in molasses. It took forever to get the waitress and have her total a simple bill. His tires squealed as he moved his car into a safer-looking part of the lot behind the lounge. He then hurriedly got into Joni Peach's sports car. Although she drove fast and recklessly, it wasn't nearly fast enough for him. Barely half an hour had passed from the time he walked into the lounge until the time they drove up into the Peach driveway, yet it seemed like forever to Lee. He was hot and horny, hotter than he had ever been before in his whole life.
He stepped into the house tentatively, warily, looking around at the darkened living room.
Joni seemed gay and at ease and led him into a en, complete with a pool table and a bar. Relax. Martin and I have an understanding, and he always calls before coming home. I do the same for him."
Lee had been looking around him but suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked at his curvaceous neighbor. "What? You mean you let him cheat on you?"
Joni playfully slapped his cheek, then kissed him. "Shame on you. Such a dirty word. Cheat. We don't cheat on one another. You are backward, aren't you?" "Backward?"
"Okay, square. You are a square and it's rather cute." Lee frowned. He didn't like being called a square but supposed he was one. He smiled back at her and tried to understand.
Joni narrowed her eyes and wiggled her hips in a comic Mae West fashion. "Why don'tcha fix a couple o'drinks while ah slip into something more comfortable and easy." Lee laughed and watched his neighbor's sensuously rolling buttocks as she walked from the room. At the bar, he mixed two Scotch and das and took a long quick belt from his own, filled, looked at the bottle, gasping for breath. Standing at the bar with the drinks ready, Lee looked around. It was the most erotic den he had ever seen. The furnishings were elegant, with a thick, wide, leather couch dominating one corner. On the wall behind it, a painting of two lasciviously naked women in a bath, caressing each other lewdly, their mouths open, their tongues protruding and about to touch. Lee's eyes raced around the room. Nude paintings of men and women were on all the walls and above the bar. They were all tasteful, expensive, and definitely lewd. Near the bar on a table was a marble statue of a couple embracing, their arms and legs intertwined, their mouths open and locked together.
Lee felt as if his pulse was pounding through his entire body. He closed his eyes. All this was too good to be true. He was going to awaken and find himself only dreaming. Nothing this good could actually happen to him. He was going to open his eyes and find himself in his own bedroom, in bed, excited and frustrated.
"Darling?"
The low throaty voice of the doctor's wife came to his ears, a slightly metallic ring to it. Lee opened his eyes and blinked, staring around the room. It was empty. A giggle came from a speaker on the wall. "I'm talking to you through an intercom system. I'm going to put some mood music on and dim the lights so don't be alarmed."
Lee stared at the speaker, "Can you hear me?"
Again, a giggle. "Of course."
"Where are you?"
"In my bedroom, silly," "And where's that?" Lee asked with a grin, the whiskey hitting him hard all of a sudden.
"You'll find out soon enough." There was a click and then something like what Sara called 'funky' jazz came on low.
Sara! For the first time since he left her, he thought of her. He was about to be unfaithful to his wife! He turned to the bar and drank from the bottle again. It served her right, he thought. He wouldn't be here if she were at all loving.
He drank from the bottle again. What was he doing there, he wondered. What was this all about? What kind of woman was this Joni Peach to make such a bold and brazen play? What exactly did she want? What was she after? What was she all about? What were the Peaches, a couple of sex fiends? Some kind of nuts? Look at the way they lived and the things that went on in their house. Look at the way it was decorated.
Lee looked about, his head full of questions. He had to admit that what he had seen of the house was tastefully and expensively decorated. Like the finest of whorehouses. For a trembling moment, Lee wondered what he was getting himself into. But he had not time to develop any fear or even to answer any of the questions that ran through his mind like it was on a merry-go-round. The door slowly opened and Joni Peach came in softly.
Lee couldn't move. She glided into his sight wearing high heels, sheer black hose, and a black garter belt with the rest of her body covered by a black robe that was made of filmy, silky material, totally transparent.
Rather than hide any of her lovely body, it only served to call attention to and reveal her most intimate parts. Her breasts pushed against the material which softly outlined and accentuated her already hard nipples. It curved over and caught every outline and contour of her rippling stomach. It revealed the nakedness of her loins and Lee could see the teasing triangle of auburn pubic hair made deep and dark and mysterious by the fuzzy mesh effect of the robe.
Joni held her arms up and turned slowly and Lee took in her wide shoulders, her soft, undulating, curving back down to her buttocks which jutted out, wide and firm, and he tried to swallow as he saw them move and undulate like they were filled with warm jelly.
Joni turned to him again, smiling. "You like?"
All he could do was to lean against the bar and nod.
She stood across the room looking at him and put one foot in front of the other and pressed out her full flowing hips. Slowly she parted the robe with her hands and stood naked with her hands on her hips. Lee could drink in the creamy color of her skin contrasted to her wild flowing auburn hair. Joni smiled lewdly, "To hell with words."
She came to him slowly, almost like a tigress stalking her prey. Her knees bent when she was in front of him and slowly, her eyes closing, she sank to her knees and her hands flew to the zipper of his trousers. He already had a rampaging erection and it took a little doing before she pulled it free and cuddled it in her hands, mewling softly to herself.
Lee was still leaning against the bar, his body trembling as he felt her hands gently stroke and squeeze his cock. He felt dizzy and held onto the bar with all his strength. Looking down, he saw those wonderfully full red lips of hers so soft and wet, saw her mouth open and her wet tongue come out to slowly touch the tip of his cock and Lee moaned and felt it swell in her hand while she was gripping it tightly. He closed his eyes and moaned long and low, opening his eyes just in time to see her mouth open, the wet lips slightly ovaling and felt them slip warmly and wetly over the head of his cock. Lee moaned and, with what will he had left, he fought the desire to cum immediately.
He felt her soft lips sliding up and down the shaft of his cock and felt the tip of her tongue flicking and teasing all around the head of his cock and thought that he had never felt anything so soft, so warm, so lewd, so good in his whole life! Slowly, in a lewd rhythm he could never before have managed, his hips began moving back and forth. And his neighbor's wife's lips tightened and she began sucking harder. With a wild moan, he grabbed her head by her thick hair and pulled her closer. "Je-sus Christ!" he gasped, feeling a surge of excitement. "Suck it, suck me off!" he gasped.
Like a starved animal who has just found food, he went wild. Never, ever, in his whole life had he felt anything so crazily stimulating. He began grinding his hips forward so that the whole of his cock slithered into her hungrily sucking mouth and almost all the way out again as he drew back for still another thrust. He began moving rapidly, fucking between her lips as he would her cunt as he felt her hands slip behind and grasp his buttocks and pull his groin tighter into her face.
His lust became too much for him. He had to really fuck her, fuck her in every way possible. With a snarl he flung her away, surprised at his own strength as he knocked her over backwards onto the floor where she sprawled, stunned, her legs spread wide, her cunt a pink glistening slit slicing through the middle of the soft curling pubic hair nestling teasingly between her thighs. One of her hands groped for her vagina and found it and caressed it temptingly with her fingertips as she smiled up at him and watched with rising excitement while he tore madly at his clothes.
He had played football while in college and still had a good build. He stood, legs apart, over her, naked, his cock rigidly erect and looked down at her. More than lovely, she was wanton, lewd. She lay between his legs with her body squirming, undulating, her breasts full yet firm, her legs spread wide and her knees raised slightly, her hand gently stroking the softly bearded lips of her vagina which was visibly throbbing and spread open, exposing the pink wet color of the interior.
With a choked cry, he crawled between her open legs and both his hands found her breasts while his mouth opened on hers and his tongue slipped in. The doctor's wife wrapped her long legs around him and her hips undulated upward as he seized one of her breasts in both his hands and put his mouth over the nipple and bit and sucked while she moaned beneath him and her hands tangled in his hair. Then, with Joni helping, cupping the other breast, he turned his mouth to the other nipple and felt it rise and swell under his coaxing.
Using all of his strength, he slipped down and braced himself on his knees and then felt the blunt head of his cock push against the moist soft entrance of her cunt. He pushed with his hips ever so slightly, parting the soft resilient pubic hair, then felt the lips of her vagina spread around the head of his cock. It felt smooth and pleasing and hot.
"Wait!" his neighbor gasped. "Wait a minute!"
Lee barely hesitated. He didn't want to wait for anything. He just wanted to fuck the life out of her.
"Wait! The couch!" Joni cried, trying to push him off.
With a groan, he got up and helped her to her feet. They hurried to the couch with her motioning and insisting that he lay face down on his stomach. Lee did as he was told and lay, panting, and felt the woman spread his legs wide behind him, then felt her naked weight on top of him, kissing and licking his shoulders, his back, his spine, all the way down until she was kissing and licking and biting his buttocks and then, then, while he held his breath and closed his eyes, he felt her thumbs spread her buttocks and her tongue flick over his tight, puckered little anus and he gave a little moan and shudder. "Do that some more!" he gasped in a whisper.
The doctor's wife licked it tantalizingly for a few seconds, then urged him to turn over. Lee looked up and groaned. Embedded in the ceiling above was a mirror and he saw himself lying naked and sprawled on the black leather couch with his neighbor crouched by his feet, on her knees, her lovely buttocks fanning out nicely within his view. He watched as her tongue slid up his tense thighs and her mouth closed once again over his unbearably throbbing cock. He watched the top of her head bob up' and down as she sucked wildly as though she were trying to draw the sperm right out of his testicles.
Then, sweat breaking out on his forehead, he watched as Joni Peach pulled free and climbed over him and he felt her hand on his cock, guiding it. After a pause she slowly let it sink wetly up into her cunt. It felt so good! So hot, so tight, so wet!
He watched the mirror above, his eyes sometimes losing their focus as Joni began to move slowly like a slippery serpent. Her hips seemed to be mounted on well-oiled ball bearings as she began a rhythmic pumping that built to an unbearable crescendo of desire ... then paused to take on another rhythm and beat. Then, Lee suddenly understood what South Sea pagan dancing was all about. His neighbor's wife began moving faster and faster and his hands were on her breasts, squeezing them and pinching them as he felt her heavenly off-beat tempo driving him to an exploding orgasm which twisted his face and made his body go rigid as he screamed, "AAAAaaagggghhhhhhh!!!!"
He pumped a months-long accumulation of white hot cum gushingly into her cunt as she gyrated madly, driving him into an almost unconscious bliss and making his body twist, jerk, and turn while he kept pumping spurt after spurt into her cunt that was wet and glistening from his excess cum.
With another cry he fell limp and Joni stopped and lay on top of him, kissing him and smiling down at him, his cock still throbbing gently in her cunt. Teasingly, she flexed her buttocks and watched him react out of super-sensitivity.
Lee moaned and looked in the mirror above, seeing her stretched on top of him, full-length, naked, her lovely buttocks still moving, squirming. "Did you like that?" she whispered in his ear.
"Yes!" he moaned.
"I'll get your drink and we'll have a little more of the same," she said, pulling away slowly and getting to her feet. Lee lay in a near helpless state, moaning and watching her walk naked over to the bar where she got his drink and hers and came back. Her body was so beautifully proportioned, as good, if not better than his own wife's. Certainly bigger, more voluptuous, and lewd. Her breasts quivered and jumped as he walked, her stomach rippled while her thighs and hips were lewd wanton flesh moving in a totally sexual way. The whole look of her, her smile, her sensuous lips, her pale blue eyes, the tilt of her head, told him that they were far from through, that they were just beginning.
She sat on the couch beside him and handed him his drink. Lee got up to one elbow and took the glass and drank. He was thirsty, his mouth was dry and his whole body felt dehydrated. Joni Peach grinned and lay beside him, her knees by his head, and looked at his cock through desire-dimmed eyes. Without a word, she put her drink down and began fondling its softness with her hands, pulling the foreskin back and admiring the head. Lee watched as she bent her head and began gently licking the moisture off the head of his cock.
With a soft moan he let his head fall back contentedly and watched in the mirror above as his neighbor's lovely auburn hair flowed over his loins, covering them, while her soft lips sucked his cock back to its former size. He turned his head to one side and saw her hips about a foot away. His eyes focused between her thighs on the swollen lips of her vagina, hiding like an exotic, lipstick-rimmed mouth between her voluptuous legs.
His fingers probed between them, urging them to part, and she was only too willing, lifting one leg and bending it at the knee.
Lee was moaning as he saw her feminine softness revealed to his eyes as her leg bent outward: the warm, soft, luscious insides of her thighs, her soft pubic hair, auburn, glinting gold in the light, the curves of her buttocks culminating and meeting in the soft white crevice that hid her tiny puckered anus from view, and, his eyes wild now, her cunt. It was in front of his face now and Lee looked at each detail of it, at the soft, gently curling strands of pubic hair lining its mouth-like opening. With his finger-tips he delicately spread the lips, revealing the moist, membranous walls of her cunt, now a delightful cherry-red color, her tiny clitoris, a bright pink, was distended, pulsating excitedly between the lips of her vagina.
"Banker" Driscoll be damned, he thought. He was now another person, someone totally different from the Lee Driscoll of before. His face relaxed into a lewd grin as the doctor's wife slowly swung her leg over his head, her foot on the couch behind him, and he smelled the warm female heat of her body and lifted his head so that the tip of his tongue flicked wetly over her clitoris.
A shudder wracked through Joni Peach's sensuous and voluptuous body and her hips shifted closer to Lee's face while below, at his groin, she sucked rhythmically on his swelling cock.
Lee tasted his lip, tasting pussy for the first time in his life and decided its sweet, perfumed taste only served to increase his excitement. Slowly, sensuously, enjoying every moment, he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out and buried it deep in his neighbor's quivering cunt. He sank it as deep as he could and wiggled it, feeling her entire body responding to it. He wormed his tongue in and around its smooth wet walls until he had stretched it to its full length within her while she sucked with all her might on his cock that had risen to larger proportions than ever before and Lee felt the head of his cock threatening to explode in a pure ecstasy of feeling.
Slowly, Joni rolled her full, curvaceous hips, slowly grinding her widespread vagina down over on Lee's willing face until she lay upside down on top of him, his balls cradled in her hands, her hungrily ovaled lips sucking up and down the shaft of his rampant cock. Her full naked body lay astride his, her breasts bouncing like soft velvet on his stomach as her head bobbed ever faster up and down. Her lovely buttocks, naked and spread, curved excitingly up over his face as his tongue licked and probed and he fastened his lips like a suction cup around her cunt and sucked like an insanely insatiable child.
The two of them lay for a long time in their lewd embrace, their bodies moving, undulating, their hips wriggling and surging while the woman's husband, Dr. Martin Peach,, sat in his chair and sipped a drink and smoked a cigarette in the room above. The room was small and he was alone, sitting in the dark, illuminated only by the light which shone up through the one-way-vision glass plate mounted in the floor. Mounted on a tripod above the glass plate -which looked like a mirror to the lovers below -was an expensive camera which was humming smoothly away, dispassionately recording the scene down below. Martin was calm, even smiling, as he watched his wife and his neighbor, Lee Driscoll, in their lewd animal behavior below. At one point, he whispered, "Have your fun, Mr. Driscoll, because soon I'll have mine and you'll end up thanking me and paying me for it!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
In college, Martin Peach graduated at the top of his class, much to the displeasure of his classmates. It wasn't that he was unfriendly or had a displeasing personality. It was the opposite: he had too much. Brains, talent, charm, looks. The fact that he came from a wealthy family only heightened the illusion of privilege. He was an intercollegiate light-heavyweight boxing champion and for two years, he was an all-conference pass catching end.
No end of students hated him not for what he was, but for what he seemed to be. Martin had, in their eyes, everything. And what came to them through hard work seemed to come to him naturally and with little thought or effort. Anyone who so excels is bound to be singled out; and, being singled out, subject to envy, jealousy, resentment, and, eventually, hostility.
Friends were uneasy, introducing him to their dates or fianc�s. Women just naturally gravitated to him.
But, more than anything, Martin had brains. His intelligence was such that he was continually aware of his circumstances and the impressions he made on others. And he knew that those who resented him saw only the superficialities. If they had any inkling of what was going on in his mind, they would have actively hated him. College was a lark for Martin, almost a marking-time until he could get out and do what he knew he wanted.
Success and the future was never a problem to Martin. He was one of those lucky people who knew exactly what he wanted to do. The only problem - in his mind, a small one - was how to go about getting what he wanted.
What he wanted was the best of everything. At heart, deep down in his soul, he wanted to experience every thrill and pleasure, intellectual and physical, possible on the face of this earth.
In everything, he sought out the best. He traveled the world and spent money on a grand scale. He also made a great deal of money. He had hit on the idea of a center, a place, secluded, private, publicly sanctified by words such as "investigation" and "research" and "sensitivity training" and "encounter." He relished the moment he had thought of using the word "encounter." It meant so much while saying so little.
His astute eye saw those that came and quickly divided them into two groups: those that were simply lonely, socially and intellectually inferior. To these people, Martin offered group encounters where they could talk out their frustrations and fears with sympathetic ears listening. To these people he offered a vacation, hot mineral baths, sweat houses, long sessions of soul searching and private sessions with him in which he tried, gently, reassuringly, to make them see their place and value in the world. If, during the group sessions, the all-night, marathon, emotional sessions, someone wanted to get smutty or sexual, it was permitted, even encouraged. "Go on," he would urge, "just say it. Spit it out. Say what you're really feeling and see what happens."
In return for a good price, Martin gave people a vacation with pleasant surroundings, good food, and plenty of attention from fellow seminar guests and from the expertly trained and attentive staff. It could truly be said that he did them no harm. In some instances, he did them good.
Occasionally, people from the first group graduated to his second group. The second group was the one Martin actually preferred. The first group was work and very often tedious. The second group gave him pleasure and a chance to observe humanity at a passionate, amoral, sexual level. He had gotten so sharp that he could spot a member of the second group on first meeting. These were the hedonists of the world, those that lived as he did; solely for pleasure. They were generally young, attractive, and successful.
And they understood, to one degree or another, just what it was Martin was up to: an orgy of depraved physical pleasure made legal and respectable under the guise of psychiatry. Martin's true genius was in his ability to convince one and all that he wasn't doing what they thought, in the back of their dirty minds, he was really up to. In this, Martin was a smashing success. He had no trouble finding backers to finance additional centers around the company. Martin was already a millionaire several times over.
Respectable people investigated the fiscal operations of his existing centers, saw the tremendous profits, met him and talked with him and were convinced by what he said that all was well and Martin Peach might not be a bad thing to put a little capital into. He left most people with the impression that, although his ideas and techniques might be considered 'controversial' and 'advanced' there was nothing ethically, morally, or financially wrong with his operation. Although backers would not themselves say that they wanted to attend his center, they would think it all right for others to do so. Backers tended to say, "I don't need any of that, but," a shrug, "I suppose there are people who do and why not? What the heck, it's a good investment."
Always, when working on opening a new center, Martin would seek out the young and progressive clergy in town and charm them, winning them over to his side and keeping them there from the very beginning. Ministers were always his personal guests at the centers and were always urged to address seminar and group sessions.
It all worked well. With his more advanced classes, he gave discreet warning to the clergy about the nature of the discussions and they almost always did not attend. Once, a minister did. He ended up naked, in the middle of the room, making love to two women at once. Shortly after that, he resigned from the church and was now working, out in Denver, for one of Martin's centers.
Eventually, Martin was bored. It all worked so well. Gradually, his mind turned to those who never came to the center. Those nice, successful, respectable people who led lives of inhibition and repression. Those who had everything or enough and enjoyed nothing; least of all each other or themselves. In traveling and giving speeches before groups, Martin saw many a face turned, silently beseeching, to him. There were those who couldn't, for one reason or another, bring themselves to let loose, let their hair down, throw off repressed fears, and enjoy life.
As with many people who are super-intelligent, Martin had quirks. He grew impatient with this sort of person, irritated with spending, wasting, hours trying to coax them into admitting such a trivial thing as having ever masturbated. To his mind, endless weeks, even months, were wasted in the traditional methods of couch and dream analysis. His precious time as well as theirs was being poured down the drain while they prated away.
His ego pushed him to experimenting with hypnosis to short-cut his sessions. Eventually, he turned to drugs and deviousness. Finally, after years of investigation- and thought, he arrived at a simple enough way, the group encounter center. From the first moment he saw her, he recognized a cauldron of lust and lewdness in Sara Driscoll frozen in a solid mental block of ice. His experience, training, and keen intelligence told him that somewhere in her past, Sara Driscoll had suffered a severe trauma in sex. It wearied him to even tell himself how he knew. The way she related to men, for one. Cool, demure, proper, acting as if there were no such thing as a difference in sex.
His experience told him that she might never come to realize the severity of her problem or, if she did, she might never feel the courage to do anything about it. Was his spending time waiting for her to recognize her problem and wanting to do something about it and finally coming to him, really doing her a favor? Or was he doing her an injustice by not taking the situation in hand?
"The end justifies the means," was his motto. He went about making things happen.
The evening before had been quite profitable. Martin was in his darkroom and had developed the pictures of Sara Driscoll's husband and his own wife, Joni. With a smile, he thought, Joni really loves her work. She had been fantastic and driven Lee Driscoll to acts and words he never dreamed of doing and saying. Viewing a few stills in the viewing frame, he flipped on the tape recorder and heard their voices intermingling heavy, hoarse, panting. "I'm going to fuck you, I'm going to fuck the shit out of you!"
"Oh, fuck me, fuck me until I beg you to stop!"
"I'm going to fuck you until you scream for mercy!"
"AAAAGGGHHHHHAAAAA!"
Martin flipped the recorder off, glanced at his watch and decided he had better take a nap. Joni had slept while he had worked, developing the film. Martin Peach was a highly disciplined man and he worked under tremendous concentration. Since the night when he had stepped outside for a breath of fresh air and a moment of solitude and discovered Lee Driscoll crouched, furtive, fearful, excited, driven by a lust he didn't understand, in the bushes, his mind had been at work and soon, very soon, he would implement a daring plan he had been concentrating on, a plan that would change Lee and Sara Driscoll's lives for evermore, a plan that would either, one, send one or both of them off to the loony bin or, two, into a life of living ecstasy that they would never otherwise attain. The gamble was there and that was the challenge that excited Martin; that element of risk, of the unknown, of having his centers and his whole life come crashing down on him, was what whetted his appetite and made him look forward to the time when he would guide and manipulate the Driscoll's into accepting persona! humility and thus rid themselves of so much personal misery and ego irritation.
He did not consider the use of films as blackmail, but rather just another tool he could use psychiatrically. Once the films had served their purpose, once he had people under his controlling guidance, he destroyed the films or, when requested, gave them to the patient.
It was now ten o'clock in the morning. Joni, after a long and athletic night with Lee Driscoll, would sleep late. Martin made himself lie down and close his eyes as he willed sleep. He would sleep until late afternoon and then he would rise, fresh, and go see Sara Driscoll. Joni would keep Lee busy as long as he wished; all night, if necessary.
Lee Driscoll barely made it to work. There was no doubt he was tired, it was evident in his every gesture and word. But, rather than being the miserable, irritated tired of a man hung over, it was a relaxed, smiling tired of a man weary, but well satisfied.
All had gone well. Now, so long as he never gave her any reason to suspect and check, Sara would never know that he hadn't spent almost all of last night with clients. Late in the afternoon, his phone buzzed on his desk, rousing him from a nap and he yawned and rubbed his eyes then flipped on the intercom. "Yes?" "That woman." The words" came to him, cold and suspicious, from his secretary's throat. "That woman is on the line. I've done as you instructed me, Mr. Driscoll, and told her you weren't in. She as much as called me a liar to my face and insisted that I check. May I tell her you're gone for the day?" she asked, her voice rising in indignation. Lee thought a minute, masking his excitement behind the thoughtful measured tones of a banker. "Mrs. Peach is a depositor in this bank and I learned, last evening, that her husband might be having some financial dealings with us, so maybe this time we'd all be better off saying that you've just located me."
There was a pause and Lee could hear her audibly take in a sharp breath. "Very well."
The secretary snapped the intercom off and Lee picked up his telephone and waited until it buzzed and he was connected. "Hello, Lee?" Joni Peach's liquid and throaty voice came floating into his ear and Lee felt like he was made of warm melting wax!
She wanted to see him again tonight. Martin would be "away and busy" and she wouldn't take no for an answer. Although he was near to physical exhaustion and he knew he had to get some sleep and rest, Lee didn't have the willpower to say no. He agreed to meet her at the same place and time and hung up. He sat at his desk thinking. All day long he hadn't been too good for work, accomplishing little because he was so tired and because he didn't really want to think too much about the night before. The night before, he had cheated on his wife enough to last him the rest of his life. And, he had loved it! He had reveled in his lewdness and their neighbor's amoral, insatiable lust.
They had fucked all night and, later, played games which he loved. They had dressed and he was a TV repairman come to Joni's apartment to fix her set. She had flirted with him outrageously and then gone to sit in a chair across the room, facing him, pretending to read a newspaper while he knelt and pretended to fix the TV and watched her slowly swing one leg up over the arm of the chair and expose her whole naked cunt to his sight.
They pretended he was a plumber and she was a nymphomaniac who attacked him sexually as soon as she had closed the door.
And he dominated her, forcing her to do and say things that were lewd and depraved. At her suggestion, he poured baby oil all over her naked body and they had fucked on the floor, groaning and grinning with the heat of their passion and, as he neared a climax, Joni whispered in his ear, "Too bad we don't have someone else here."
"What?" he had asked, panting.
"Someone to watch us or maybe," a dark giggle, "Join in. You'd like that, wouldn't you, hmmm?"
Lee had been so excited that he had cum in her immediately.
The subject was never brought up again as they went on with their games and fondling and sucking and fucking. Finally, they came to the point of no return. No matter what his neighbor did or said, he could no longer have an erection. He was totally, completely, fucked out. He lay on his back on the floor, exhausted, fighting to keep his eyes open with Joni standing over him, straddling his body, her hands on her hips and her naked groin doing slow bumps and grinds as he looked up and saw her half opened cunt through half closed eyes.
The drive back to the bar was a blur with Lee falling asleep and staggering to his own car. It took some doing for him to drive home. They drove slowly, with Joni leading the way in her sports car and Lee staring at her tail lights like an amazed owl. He had stumbled to bed with Sara sound asleep. No sooner was he in the warmth of his bed, shutting his eyes, than the alarm was ringing and waking him up and he' could hear the sounds of bacon snapping and frying in the kitchen and Sara came to call him. "Lee? It's getting late."
Lee had staggered to the bathroom and a cold shower. In the kitchen, he ate breakfast and drank cups of black coffee, explaining to his wife that he still didn't feel well.
Now, at work, he was calling Sara and explaining he had to meet with the accountant to go over some figures and details of the plans discussed the night before. His lie went well and he promised himself it would be an early night and that they would start where they left off the night before - Joni Peach naked, him lying on the floor, with her standing with her legs apart and straddling him.
He had the rest of the afternoon to think about himself and what he was doing. He wondered, uneasily, if he were some kind of sex pervert, for he loved what he was doing. Yet, he was a banker, married into a banking family and, as far as he knew, not one member of the family ever indulged in even one of the things he did last night.
What would any of them, Sara included, think if they knew that last night he had ordered their voluptuous looking neighbor, Dr. Peach's wife, to stand in front of him with her back to him and kneel on the rug and put her head and chest down and spread her legs while she reached around her hips with her hands and spread the cheeks of her buttocks so that he could take in her anus and cunt that were exposed to him and then fall on her and fuck her until they both came like two dogs in heat. What would they say if they could have seen the two of them lying on the couch, glistening with baby oil, fucking and sucking one another? What would they say if they could have heard the words they had uttered to each other in the wild throes of their passion?
People in his set simply did not act or think that way. There was something depraved, something abandoned, wanton, lewd, and lascivious in Joni Peach's whole makeup. There was something wrong with such a person.
Nevertheless, there was also something so exciting, so magnetic about the woman and her behavior, that Lee simply could not resist.
Beyond tonight, he preferred not to think of the future and the risk he was running by doing what he loved. Perhaps, he told himself, tonight will be the last. He sat and thought about it and told himself that tonight could be the last. In fact, he made a resolution that tonight would be the last.
Across town, Martin Peach looked at his watch and said, "It's getting to be that time. Has everyone been alerted for tonight?"
His wife stretched and said, "Sure. Leave it to old Joni. I'd better get dressed." She rose, her lounging gown falling open to reveal her lovely naked body.
Martin took her in his arms and kissed her, one hand falling to her pubic hair and his fingers toyed momentarily with her cunt while his wife threw her head back and smiled at him.
"You were in rare form last night."
Joni giggled. "Really, he's so square, but he's good. God, it was like feeding a starved man."
Martin chuckled. "And that, naturally, turned you on."
"Listen, I was so high I didn't have to, but, it didn't hurt. Him being so horny."
"If he's that way, think what she must be like."
"Frigid."
"No don't be catty. A little of Dr. Peach's magic elixir and she'll think doorknobs are sexy."
Joni laughed. "You are a bastard at times, Martin. I'm going to take a shower."
CHAPTER NINE
Sara Driscoll could feel or think of no real reason for feeling blue, yet, she was feeling depressed and neglected. She eluded herself, saying that Lee was only doing his job and that this sort of thing, this going out at night would not be a common occurrences. Yes, she felt ignored, left alone. It wasn't so much the hours spent away as it was his attitude when around her that bothered her about Lee. It was as if his mind was elsewhere and he seemed eager to get away, to get out of the house or to bed.
All of the household chores done, she made herself a cup of coffee, lit a cigarette, and sat down to have a talk with herself. She made herself face the possibility that something was wrong in their marriage. With a resigned shrug, she knew the answer was only too obvious. Sara felt herself on the verge of a great depression and tried, desperately, to think of the good things in her life. Yet, newly married and her husband grunted at her and paid little attention to anything she said or did.
And it was her fault. There were so many things she couldn't admit or even talk about. Sex, since the incident with her brother, was a forbidden topic with her mother. Whenever she went to the family doctor for a checkup, sex was avoided with Sara coming away from the checkup with a screaming headache. The thought of undressing with a nurse in the room, of lying of a table under a sheet, naked, and having the doctor fondle her vagina taking pap smears and physically probing her, filled her with a guilty, dirty, lewd excitement.
She felt that there was something wrong with her because she felt a sexual heat and excitement from being in such circumstances. It wasn't right. Her feelings weren't right and it was because of her brother. No, it was because of the way she felt about her dead brother. Her mind whirled about in confusion and only intensified her depression. Whenever she knew she was going to have her semi-annual checkup, she had bad dreams for weeks before and after. She couldn't remember much about the dreams and what she could remember, sent chills up and down her spine.
The examination room, only it was different, dark and she was stark naked and the nurse and doctor were smiling and laughing and gloating and admiring her body. Then the doctor was naked and doing something thrilling and obscene to her body while the nurse was stroking the doctor's hair and urging him on and, in the dream, Sara looked up to see the nurses uniform unbuttoned and pulled open to reveal her breasts with scarlet nipples and Sara grew more excited. And, always, woke up.
She stubbed out her cigarette and finished her coffee, making an effort of the will to get out of her depression and do something positive about her marriage and mental state. Her thoughts turned to Martin Peach. Perhaps she could approach him, tell him a little white lie, invent a friend who came to her for advice; try, tactfully, to get him to recommend a good doctor that she should confide in. Above all, she decided she would make an effort to confide in her own husband. He was a good person and he would understand.
A tapping on her kitchen window made her jump in fright. Lost in deep thought, she hadn't seen Martin Peach stride across her lawn and tap on the window. He stood outside, smiling, like a prayer answered. Heaving a big sigh, she smiled back and hurried to the door.
"Am I interrupting anything?" Martin's voice was low and warm and his whole attitude was one of relaxed, smiling, friendliness.
"No, come in. I was just having a cup of coffee. Would you care for some?" she asked, retreating to the stove.
"That sounds like it would be a welcome break in my day. How have you been?"
"Fine, just fine. Busy. We've both been terribly busy. It seems there's never enough time in a day," Sara said, bringing her neighbor his cup.
"It's healthy to be busy," Martin said, looking at her while spooning sugar and stirring his coffee.
Sara sat down, folded her hands on the table, looked at them, took a deep breath, and said, "You know, I'm glad you came along. I was thinking about a friend and, such an odd coincidence, about you, when I looked up there you were."
"Speak of the devil."
"Yes!" Sara said and laughed politely. "Anyway, I was thinking about this friend. A girl friend of mine. Very shy. Well, we've known each other for a long time and you know how girls are."
Martin smiled. "You confide in one another." "Right. Well, lately, I've noticed she's been disturbed. Preoccupied and depressed." Martin sipped his coffee and nodded. "I knew she was upset about something." "About what?"
"I don't know," Sara said with another little laugh. "I think I know. I mean, I can guess. This girl just got married awhile ago and I think she's having trouble with her husband."
"Oh? What makes you think that?" Martin asked, sitting back, arms folded, a look of clinical interest on his handsome face.
Sara gave him a brave little smile. "I'm not sure, but I think so because she never talks about her husband and before they got married, she talked about him all the time. Now, she never mentions his name and looks sad all the time."
"I see," Martin drawled. "Interesting. That shows a great deal of insight and sensitivity on your part."
"Thank you," Sara said, feeling a flush of emotion and looking down at her folded hands. "Finally, the other day, she asked me if I knew the name of a good doctor. Someone she could talk to in confidence. I mentioned your name and when she found out that you live next door, that we are, in a sense, neighbors, she backed out, I mean, she didn't want to see you. It doesn't make any sense, because I know you wouldn't reveal a patient's confidence, but, I could understand how she would feel uneasy."
All urbanity, Martin answered smoothly. "Of course. Hardly rational, but very human and understandable."
Sara's spirits leaped. "I knew you'd see it that way!"
Martin indulged in a rich easy laugh. "And what you want me to do is recommend a doctor, someone your friend could trust."
"Exactly."
"My dear Sara," he smiled warmly. "Hasn't this little charade about a 'friend' gone far enough?"
Sara felt exactly as if someone had slapped her in the face with a towel soaked in ice water. "What!"
Martin was at ease. "Really, I'm surprised at you. Have you any idea how many times I've heard this very same story?"
Sara stammered, "I ... I. . . I don't know ... what you mean?"
Martin shrugged. "Very well. I'll give you the name of a doctor your friend can visit and we'll even sit here and discuss your friend. I'll pretend to be concerned and ask polite questions. I'll play the game but I must tell you that I know your friend doesn't exist, the your friend is, in fact, yourself. You. Sara Driscoll."
Sara sat looking at him with her mouth open.
"Please don't be angry or indignant with me. I'm your friend and I'm also a doctor. I've had so many people, men and women, approach me at such an angle. Invariably, the story is the same." He leaned forward and his voice dropped. "There is nothing wrong in admitting you are troubled. Everybody, without exception, is, at one time or another in their lives, troubled. It is human and universal. The only thing wrong with it is not being able to admit that you're troubled."
Sara put her hands over her eyes and fought against tears and the shame of having been caught in such an obvious lie. Martin sat back and said nothing. He waited until his neighbor took her hands away and he smiled reassuringly.
Sara looked down at her hands again. "I feel like such a silly liar and fool."
"That's natural, too." Martin glanced at his wristwatch. "I happen to have some free time. Come over to my house, to my office, where we can be comfortable and secure in the knowledge we won't be interrupted and we can talk."
"I don't know ..." Sara's voice trailed off and her face looked frightened.
Martin got to his feet with an easy laugh. "I'm not going to bite you. All I'll do is ask you some questions, perhaps I'll prescribe a tranquilizer and maybe even recommend a good doctor." He spread his palms out. "All of this will be done as a friend and a neighbor."
Tears of gratitude were in Sara's eyes. "You're so kind."
"Not at all. I'm sure you would do the same for me."
They strolled across the lawn together, Martin relaxed, realizing that it all had been so easy, almost effortless. He was charming and casual, showing Sara around the house, explaining that Joni was away at, "Some kind of meeting." Sara was awed by the expensive taste of the decorations. It was all too 'arty' and colorful for her taste, with some of the rooms being too disturbingly sexual in their decor. She made polite remarks as Martin showed her statues from New Caldonia.
"Primitive erotic art. These figures depict ancient fertility rites."
Martin was holding what looked like a twisted tree stump that had been carved and polished and she looked at it with a polite look of puzzlement. It seemed like a piece of abstract driftwood until she made a figure out, then another and another, until she realized it was a mass of men and women writhing together, doing obscene things to one another. She turned her head sharply away.
Martin put the carving down and took her by the arm and led her into his study. Professionally, he indicated a chair as he strode behind his desk and sat down. "Now, Mrs. Driscoll, do you want me to behave as a doctor or as your neighbor and friend?"
Sara smiled nervously. "I really shouldn't be here."
"Why?" Martin laced his fingers together.
"Well, I am a married woman and you are a married man."
"That's true. Does that mean we can't be friends?" Martin asked gently.
Sara giggled and fought against the thrill of feeling naughty. "Well, you did show me that thing, that carving."
"So?"
"Well, it just seemed ... oh, I don't know." Sara felt she was going to blush. My God, she thought, what do I mean?
"I showed you that carving on purpose." Martin said quietly, looking at her with a steady unblinking gaze.
For a moment, Sara was bewildered. What was he up to? Had she misjudged his intentions?
"I showed it to you," Martin said in measured tones, "to watch your reaction to such a thing. I will admit that there aren't many houses in which you will find such an object displayed. I showed it to you as a doctor clinically interested in whatever it is that is disturbing you."
"Oh?" Sara said, arching her back.
"Yes. And, I think I know. Actually, I've known for some time now." Martin was calm, matter-of-fact, like a family doctor reciting treatment and prescription.
Sara resented his manner, was hurt by the fact that he could be so offhand with her. "Oh? And how do you know that?" Her pride came back.
Her family was well known and wealthy and she was not going to be treated so lightly.
"Through the actions and behavior of your husband."
Sara was close to indignation. "You don't even know my husband."
"Ah, but I do. I daresay I know more about him than you do. Or, at least, I can say I know a whole side of him that you've never suspected existed."
"How do you know all this." her indignance rising again.
Martin gave her a sweet smile. "Lee has been a patient of mine for some time now."
If a thunderbolt had hit her, Sara couldn't have felt more of a shock. It seemed they sat still in the room for an eternity, staring at one another, before the room dimmed and Martin, his desk, the whole room behind him seemed to be moving away from her until they looked like they were down at the wrong end of a telescope. She gave a pitiful little moan and fainted.
She awoke on a couch, Martin crouching over her, waving something under her nose. It took her a few minutes before she realized what had happened and where she was. "I ... I'm sorry, so very sorry."
"Just relax."
"I've never fainted before." She tried to rise but Martin cautioned her and handed her a glass of water and a pill. "What's that?"
"A mild sedative. As your doctor, I'd advise you to take it."
Sara did as she was told, swallowing the pill and letting her head fall back. "You shouldn't have said what you did."
"Perhaps not. Your body is in shock. Just rest quietly and let the pill take its effect."
Sara closed her eyes and tried to quiet her mind. A tingling was beginning in her body. She paid attention to the feeling as it grew and her mind relaxed and felt more at ease. The sensation continued to grow and Sara felt her troubles and questions retreating. Later, she could ask them. The feeling was so pleasant, so restful. She was lulled by another feeling of warmth and then, slowly, easily, as if flowing from far off, she could feel herself beginning to be aroused. She was in her doctor's office and he was going to feel and fondle her body. No, she was in Martin Peach's office. Yet, Martin was a doctor and this was his office. Martin. Doctor. Wrong. Exciting.
Her brother coming into the kitchen long ago, surprising her, her words describing it all in vivid ... It was all too confusing and happening all at once. And Sara was too deeply drugged to even know what was happening. Martin had pulled a chair next to the bed and was now questioning Sara who was answering in a slow monotone, answering each and every explicit question Martin asked.
When he was satisfied that he knew enough, Martin checked his watch and then left the room, secure that she wouldn't move unless he ordered her to and actually helped her.
Outside, it was twilight. Soon, advanced course patients would be arriving and Martin was going to stage a psycho-drama for them in which Mrs. Sara Driscoll would star. Somewhere in the city, his wife, Joni, was with Lee Driscoll and she would bring him later in the evening.
Martin Peach went back to his office and smiled down at the slumbering figure of his young next door neighbor. She had a most delicious looking body and a smile, lustful and hungry, a smile no one had ever seen but his own wife, spread across his lips, baring his teeth like a famished wolf about to spring on a helpless, cornered rabbit. Tonight, Lee Driscoll was going to pay dearly for all the pleasures of the flesh he had thought he had been enjoying completely free.
CHAPTER TEN
Lee was uncomfortable. Joni had insisted on staying at the cocktail lounge, ordering drinks, talking smutty, whispering in his ear, getting him drunk and talking smutty himself, finally admitting he wanted her to stand over him with her legs apart while he lay on the floor and do a strip tease.
Joni readily agreed and got up from the table. She was wearing a white-knit, see-through miniskirt which only made her wild auburn hair seem all the more red. Her pale blue eyes narrowed. "Let's go."
Lee paid the check and followed her out, weaving from fatigue and too much to drink, his eyes on her lovely full buttocks that twitched and shook under her dress with every step.
Now, they were in a motel room and Lee was uncomfortable. He had never registered under a phony name before and he was worried they'd be found out; that someone, some burly house detective would kick the door down and arrest them and his name would be splashed all over the papers. "Prominent Young Banker Found in Love Nest!" would be the headline.
Yet, there was his voluptuous neighbor, lying back on the bed and looking at him with languorous eyes. "Want to play some fun games?"
At the mention of 'games' Lee felt an excitement boil in his brain and spill over into his groin. Despite his fatigue, he was more than willing to hear what she had in mind. He looked at her long, curving body on the bed, at her exposed thighs and tapering calves that slimmed down to thin ankles, and thought she was beautiful enough to be a movie star. Lee gulped, feeling he was falling in love with her, that he wanted to have her for his own and fuck her for years. "Like what?" he asked.
Joni smiled up at him. "You could be a doctor and this could be your office and I could be a patient and we could pretend that you gave me some strong sedative or something and I'll just lay here like I'm unconscious and you can do anything you want to me."
Lee felt his cock bulging in his pants. It was sore from so much fucking but he didn't care. It sounded like too much fun. "Okay, but you've got to promise not to move."
Joni smiled lewdly. "I'll try my best." she closed her eyes and stretched out and didn't move. Lee had time to drink in all her loveliness as she lay quietly. Her high, beautifully rounded breasts under her dress, her flat stomach and her wide lascivious hips with her pelvic bones jutting up softly, her long, tapered, firm legs. Slowly, he took her shoes off and slowly let his hands caress her legs clear on up under her dress where he felt the smooth nylon of her panties.
Joni didn't move or open her eyes. This was going to be fun, Lee told himself as he licked his dry lips. Slowly, watching her face, he pulled her dress up, lifting her buttocks ever so slightly until he had pushed it up to her waist revealing her lower pelvis clad in only snow white bikini panties.
Lee sat back to look at her figure. The panties came just below her pelvic bones which jutted out so provocatively, so tight, they cut into her flesh in an erotic way. His eye fell to her rolling pubic mound and, beneath that, the impression her vagina lips made smoothly on the soft material. The white crotch band of the panties was tight and disappeared down between her legs. At the tight edges, little strands of curly pubic hair showed, auburn and sexual against her milky skin.
Hooking his thumbs in her panties, still watching her face, Lee peeled the panties slowly, teasingly down, working them over her hips and exposing her mound of Venus under its soft fleecy pubic hair. Underneath, he knew her firm dimpled buttocks were being exposed and he thought that later, he would have a look at them and fondle them. But now he was pulling the panties down slowly until they fell easily on down her thighs and he turned and pulled them off her feet then sat down again facing her limp body.
She had not moved and was lying there naked, from the waist down, looking so vulnerable and lewd. Slowly, one leg at a time, he spread them apart with the palms of his hands, catching his breath as she lay motionless, her eyes closed, her legs spread wide, her cunt exposed completely for him to see.
Joni Peach lay with her legs spread so wide by her neighbor's husband that the cords on the inside of her thighs stood out, leading, seeming to point, directly to the mouth of her cunt. He could see it all, right down to where her buttocks joined in the deep tight crevice. The lips of her vagina were beginning to pulsate slightly, parting to reveal a slit of smooth, pink cunt flesh that was glistening hotly in the lamplight.
With his fingertips, he spread the soft, hair-lined lips a little wider and massaged them, glancing at her face. She had not moved or opened her eyes. He spread the lips wider and felt the moist hot walls of her cunt, all slippery. One finger found her clitoris and slid back and forth over its oiled surfaces, causing it to swell and distend.
Joni, playing the game well, didn't blink an eye. Breathing hard, excited by the lewdness of the scene, he stood up, unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. The idea of fucking her with both of them wearing their clothes now seemed exciting and something he had always wanted to do to Sara, his own wife.
He got on top of her, watching her face intently as he guided his cock to her cunt and rubbed the head of it up and down over her clitoris. Joni didn't move an inch. Something snapped in his mind. They would play this game often. He realized he could do anything he wanted to her and she wouldn't resist or move. Anything!
He stuck the head of his cock into her cunt and his neighbor, utterly relaxed, offered no resistance and the head slid easily into her hot wet cunt and nuzzled there for a second before he slowly let it sink in all the way then just as slowly pulled it out until just the tip was spreading the lips of her vagina and he could feel the soft, fine strands of her pussy hair tickling against it.
Cold-bloodedly, enjoying every second, every touch and thrill, he slowly let his cock sink home again until he was pressing his hips and weight fully against her open loins.
Joni had not moved at all and something exploded in Lee. It was too much to bear. He lost all control and began fucking her limp, unresisting body as hard as he could, making her hips bounce lewdly up off the squeaking motel bed with the brutality of his strokes and, with Lee bug-eyes and yelling, "Jesus Christ!" as he realized he was virtually raping her and she still hadn't moved!
He finally, with a long moan, collapsed on top of her and, as if by signal, Joni Peach opened her eyes and wrapped her arms and legs around him, muttering, "Oh, that felt so good and got me hotter than a cap pistol. Honey, let's play some more games."
* * *
In his home, in the living room, Martin Peach looked at his guests assembled. "Tonight, I'm going to demonstrate just how a patient can be led or directed while under sedation to perform or take part in certain acts their conscious minds wouldn't permit them to do. Yet, I must stress once again that there is no drug or method of hypnosis known that can make a person perform any kind of act they don't wish to. The old idea of forcing someone to perform an obscene act can only be accomplished at the point of a gun or knife, I'm afraid. It gets back to the old cliche: you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink." Martin looked around at his guest-patients who smiled back at him. Had Lee been there, he would have recognized many of them, for he had seen them perform before from outside a bedroom window.
"Through observation and inquiry, I've learned the nature of tonight's guest-object. A young woman, torn and rendered virtually frigid because of guilty feelings about incest. Years ago, her brother attacked her and nearly seduced her. The patient, whom I'll call Connie, has been suffering from that trauma ever since. She was unfortunate enough to marry the wrong man. His problems shall be discussed later. Connie is drugged and extremely susceptible to suggestion. I want to remind you all of that and caution you in what you say in her presence. At the beginning, I'm asking all of you to exercise restraint and merely watch. Will someone close the drapes please while we set the stage?"
Several patients closed the drapes and the lights were dimmed low. Martin set out a bottle of milk and a glass on a table. "Her brother attacked her late at night. He came home drunk and probably didn't know what he was doing. I'll need a volunteer to play her brother. Remember, she is sedated and will re-live everything that happened that night. It will all be very real to her."
All present in the room looked at one another. A couple, near the fireplace, exchanged glances. It was Carol and Andy, the married couple Lee had watched one night. Since that night, their sex life had been full and wild. Since that night, they had made love with Martin Peach and others watching them. Martin had talked to them both a long time about broadening their activities, "liberating" themselves to the point where they could include others in their sex life. "Once you are truly liberated, only then can you turn to your partner and truly relate on a deep, meaningful, and personally rewarding level. Once you get over your taboos and inhibitions, then, and only then, do you have a chance to find ecstasy and a chance to fully experience the glories and wonder of an orgasm." Martin had talked to them a long time and they had discussed it privately, each not wanting to be the first to admit that they wanted to bring anyone else into their sex life.
Yet Carol was excited by the idea. Since the night the two of them performed knowing that someone was watching, she had been transformed. She walked about in an aura of lewdness and wished, tonight, that Connie had been attacked by a sister or lesbian. She would love to do something depraved and really forbidden. She turned to her silent husband Andy. "Why don't you do it?"
Andy looked surprised. "Huh? Me? Naw."
"Why not? Afraid?" Carol said, mockingly.
"No, it's not that. How would you feel if I did a thing like that?"
Carol rubbed her thigh against his. "I'd love it, watching you."
"I don't know."
"Go on."
"You sure?"
"If you don't, somebody else will and I'll watch it anyway." Carol leaned close and whispered. "I'll watch and when we get home, in bed, you can tell me what it was like doing it to another woman."
Martin Peach suppressed a smile. He had been watching Andy and Carol and knew that Andy would be the brother in the psycho-drama. He was Martin's pick because he was self-conscious yet highly sexed. Such an exercise would be good for him too, ridding him of some unwanted inhibitions. "I think we have someone who is willing to sacrifice himself in the interests of science and research," Martin said as people laughed and applauded.
They all gathered at one end of the large and darkened living room while Martin instructed Andy what to do then disappeared, going to his study, warning everyone to remain absolutely quiet while the little drama was acted out.
Andy stood motionless against one wall, nervous, gulping, watching, waiting. Everyone in the room grew silent and still and all of them were watching the door to Martin's study. Although there wasn't a sound or movement in the room, it was filled with a tense, electric energy for each and every person present knew that they were going to watch something extraordinary happen.
There seemed to be a silent intake of breath as the door to Martin's study swung slowly open. Martin stepped out leading Sara Driscoll. She walked with unfocused eyes and was somnambulistic, sleepwalking, being guided by only Martin Peach's hands. Each person in the room craned to get a better look at her body. She had been stripped naked then dressed again by Martin and she was wearing nothing but a sheer nightgown that came to her waist and was open in front. All of her lovely, curvaceous young body was revealed for all to see. She was so beautifully proportioned she might have stepped out of the centerfold of Playboy. Her breasts, plainly visible with her budding nipples, quivered as she stepped slowly. Her lovely naked hips swayed from side to side exposing her wedge of soft, resilient pubic hair. Andy, along the wall, felt himself getting aroused. He glanced nervously at his wife, Carol, but her attention was greedily on the girl called Connie's body.
Martin's low voice shattered the silence. "All right. It is late. Your mother and father are asleep and you want some milk so you slip down to the kitchen. Do you see the milk, Connie?"
"Yes," Sara answered in a slow and thick way, her eyes turning to see and focus on the bottle of milk and glass.
"Go and pour yourself a drink," Martin said in a low voice as he stepped back and nodded to Andy standing in the corner.
This was the moment and kind of situation that Martin lived for and was thrilled by. Having spent his life dealing with all kinds of sexual desire jaded and easily bored. A situation such as he had created and set in motion excited him, aroused a wild, lewd desire because the situation was fraught with danger. Danger was the element he knew excited everyone. It was possible that what would happen in the next few hours could ruin his life and send him to jail. It was possible that Sara or Lee Driscoll or both of them would flip out, lose all reason and do something violent and destructive to themselves, each other, or others. Himself, for instance. He was treading on dangerous ground, for it was very possible that Sara or Lee would go to the authorities and expose him.
Many things were possible, all of them unpredictable; and it was that element of risk, that ever-present specter of disaster that aroused and excited him. If all went well, if he were able to handle all the unforeseen things that would come up, it would be an event he would never forget.
There was something suicidal in Martin, a self-destructive drive, a warping of his brilliance, that would someday drive him too far, beyond return. No one could say, until it happened, when it would occur. What he was doing with Sara Driscoll was completely unethical and illegal. Should she ever complain, he would be disbarred from practice and sent to jail.
He stepped back, watching with the rest of the room. It was a strange sight to see, this girl standing naked, her lovely bare buttocks firm and well-molded, the flimsy nightgown Martin had put on her only accentuating her nakedness as she stood in the middle of the room completely oblivious of her real surroundings. She yawned and stretched, her lovely body undulating like a cat, her hips jutting out to one side. Slowly, rubbing her eyes like a child, she walked to the table and slowly poured herself a glass of milk.
Martin glanced sharply at Andy. He was supposed to attack the girl, take her in his arms and try to rape her. Andy was standing against the wall, nervously licking his lips. To him, it was all wrong. Something was wrong with her, the way she was standing, indifferent to all the people around her. She might scream when she saw him. Nervously, he started forward, hesitant, wary.
Sara stiffened and whirled. Her eyes widened and she held the glass of milk out to a side. Andy stopped, looked at Martin for reassurance as she put her back against the table. Andy just looked at her. There was such fright in her eyes and she was saying something over and over in a whisper. He couldn't touch her and watched, with amazement as the mumbling young woman flung the glass away as if it had been wrenched from her hand and she began leaning back over the table, her naked hips on the edge, rolling out and, incredibly, her legs were spreading wide! Andy watched as he saw her tight little cunt spreading, swelling with desire, the pink slit of the already moistening-lips plainly visible in the darkened room.
The flimsy nightgown slid softly away from her shoulders and revealed all of her loveliness as she leaned back on the table, her legs spread and dangling over the side, her stomach flat, her rib cage showing and above, her lovely breasts, firm and rounded, with the nipples taut and aching.
Andy couldn't resist her. He forced his body between her legs and leaned over, embracing her and locking their mouths together. Sara's tongue darted into his mouth, hot and fierce, wiggling around! He responded by forcing his tongue into her mouth and crushing her breasts against his chest. Her free hand was groping, fighting, to get at his crotch. With a guttural cry, Andy tore himself loose from her writhing body and stripped, tore, at his clothing like a madman as he heard people murmuring excitedly behind him.
He stepped out of his shorts and Sara, searching crazily with her eyes lurched forward to seize his cock in her hand and squeeze it. Andy leaned over her and felt her guiding its hardness toward her cunt. Twisting his head, he looked back to see his wife Carol. She was standing, they all were standing now, and Carol's eyes were half-closed and her mouth open. She was loving it!
Andy turned to kiss Sara on the mouth as he felt the head of his cock touching the moist lips of her cunt. She let her head fall back and her mouth open as she moaned and whispered in a little girlish voice, "Do it, do it to me, Alan! Oh, God, do it to me!"
Andy rammed his cock home, everyone watching it sink deep into Sara Driscoll's throbbing, near virginal cunt as she leaned back over the table and Andy stood between her widespread legs and began slowly fucking in and out.
The room exploded in sexual heat. Not a word was said as every eye watched the young woman's buttocks thrust up with an unbelievable hunger and passion as Andy began to grind his lust-hardened cock in and out of her cunt faster and faster. Not a word was said yet everyone knew that this was going to be a night of orgy, a night when everyone was going to get all his frustrations and desires completely fulfilled.
Sara fucked back at her proxy lover with an insatiable greed. Her legs wrapped hungrily around his waist and locked at the ankles just above his bare buttocks. Her body lifted and she entwined her arms around him and writhed and wiggled and undulated in pure sexual bliss.
Only such a man as Martin Peach could react objectively at such a moment. A king-size mattress had been installed in one wall. Martin pressed a button and it swung out and down onto the floor. The rest of Martin's guest-patients took it as a silent invitation.
A girl, slim as a boy, her hair cut short, kneeled on the mattress and began undressing, throwing her clothes to one side while watching Andy and Sara. Carol, breaking free from the lewd grasp of another man, sat down beside the girl, giggling nervously, blushing, and covering her face with her hands. The young girl, slim, boyish, the same girl Lee had seen with two men and a woman one night, turned a hot, sultry glance at Carol. Awhile ago, Andy and Carol had been so unhappy and frustrated. Then Carol had met Dr. Peach. Through his urging, she had watched and gradually become more and more liberated. They had sat together, watching stag movies, had necked heavily at Martin's sessions, had watched others make love, had themselves made love while an unknown, Lee Driscoll, had watched, had brought themselves to have sex while others watched and now Carol was watching her husband, Andy, dig his nails into Lee Driscoll's young wife and fuck her for dear life. Sara responded by breaking out in a glistening sweat. All the barriers were down in her drugged mind and she was fucking back at her younger brother like a starved woman and loving it.
Carol had always been fascinated and secretly aroused by lesbians. The girl, Mimi, was French and a friend of Martin and Joni Peach who looked and acted like a wicked young boy. Carol had found herself aroused, watching her own husband fuck another woman. There was something so strange, animal, and lewd about it. Whenever they made love again, she would remember the sight of him standing half-crouched, every muscle in his body tense, as he fucked Sara Driscoll, his cock flying in and out, grinding at her body, rocking it back and forth like a rag doll on the creaking table.
Andy came with a roar, stood up straight, head back, stiffened, and convulsively pumped white hot cum deep into Sara's cunt as they all watched her constrict her buttocks and her cunt tighten desperately over his cock as she moaned and begged, "Please, no, not yet! Not yet. Alan!"
Sara was coming out of her drugged state, forced out by the passion which flowed through her like an electric current. Dimly, she began to be aware of her surroundings. Andy was pulling away from her and she looked up at him with wild eyes. Oh, God! It wasn't her brother, it was a complete stranger who had just emptied his sperm into her belly!
Andy was falling away, slumping to the floor and Sara could see other people. On the mattress was a young boy. Her brother? No, it was someone else, a girl, and sitting next to her was a woman, smiling, half-undressed, her breasts free and the girl was fondling them with one hand while she was lifting her dress up over her thighs.
There were people all around her in various stages of nudity, embracing, lewd, mingling their bodies together. She rubbed her eyes, trying to remember where she was. But the primitive, lewd lust still running through her nerves and throbbing painfully in her loins was too much to deny. She couldn't think clearly or remember much except that the demanding lust and desire all her nerves were now feeling, was just a few seconds ago with a complete stranger's cock buried deep between her legs, mounting in orgiastic pleasure to a point of sheer sexual bliss.
People were helping her off the table now. She looked at their faces. Like hers, they were twisted and grinning lewdly. She liked this. What was it she had felt for so long? It wasn't true then that she was alone in her guilt! There were people like her in this world and two of them, two naked men, had their arms and hands on her and her body trembled as she felt them press their hardened, rampant male cocks against her thighs. Two! Two men eager to fuck her!
They helped her onto the mattress and spread her legs. "God, look at that tight little cunt," one breathed heavily.
"Yeah, let me at it. This baby fucked that guy Andy like it was going outta style," the other said.
The first one smiled in lewd anticipation. "Yeah, well I guess it's up to us to break the little filly!"
"Break her good."
"Yeah, go on, you fuck her first and I'll hold her legs apart, but save some for me!" the second man said.
"And for me, too," a blond man said, dropping down on the mattress beside them. It was the man called Lange that Lee Driscoll had spied on several times. He smiled at the other two men. "I've never been in an old-fashioned gang-bang. Always wanted to."
Sara, still half-drugged, catching their words, cringed subconsciously at the sudden lewdness of the words, "gang-bang," and tried to crawl away but they held her by her arms and legs. "No!" she pleaded in a shaking voice. They forced her over on her back and two of them, Lange and the second man, forced her legs wide apart until Sara thought she would scream from the pain and humiliation of the obscene position. Then they bent her knees and folded her legs still wider, leaning their weight on top of them, pinning her helpless down on the mattress, her buttocks spread open, revealing her tiny puckered anus and her moist open cunt, split wider than it had ever been before.
The first man got on top of her, and squirmed his pelvis down between her wide held legs, his huge blunt cock in his hand. "Here it comes, take it, baby!" Sara groaned aloud as he fell upon her and she felt his rock-hard cock plunge deep into her cunt, stretching it until it felt like a tight glove clasping hotly around the shaft of his prick and he began fucking in and out of her defenseless young cunt viciously, selfishly, as if he had no other wish than to satisfy himself. Her body was battered harder and harder down into the bouncing mattress while Lange and the other man held her in place and she cried out, "Lee, Oh God, Lee! Where is my husband! Oh, God, where is he!"
The men grinned at her piteous cries and the man fucking her only redoubled his efforts. Sara's vision was coming back to her and the drug was wearing off. She knew where she was and what she was doing! How, she wondered hazily through the involuntarily rising pleasure in her belly, had it happened! She must do something!
And she did. Before she could realize it or think, she found her traitorous body responding lewdly to the heavy, sperm filled cock grinding around deep in her belly. Her hips beginning to pump back and she felt a strange, lewd feeling coming over her body and pumping lascivious thoughts into her brain, flooding everything else out.
"Look at her ass starting to grind," the second man said, "She's beginning to like it!"
"Yeah!" Lange grunted and bent and kissed her on the mouth.
Then Sara was smothered under the three men, one fucking her as hard as he could, the other two teasing her breasts and licking and kissing them. She had lost all reason now and her naked young body writhed and bucked as she flung her arms out and one hand felt a cock.
It was the blond man, Lange's, but it didn't matter. It was a cock and she seized upon it hungrily and stroked it while the man slid his hips around and seized her hair and jerked her head to one side. Sara found a huge bulging penis in front of her face. The head of it, with just a drop of excited cum on it, brushed lasciviously against her lips and she dazedly licked them with her tongue, then, impulsively, knowing in her mind that before tonight, such a thing had been disgusting and perverted, she licked at it and twisted her body and smiled at the pleasure of doing something so vile and obscene. The man fucking into her said, "Go on, go ahead, suck it, baby!" and fucked her harder, his cock swelling with excitement.
The pain of his brutal fucking down between her legs and the blond man holding her head in place by her hair mingled and became a kind of masochistic glee, a pleasure, a pure, white-hot feeling of pleasure deep in her groin which she wanted to grow and envelop her whole body. With a smile now, she tightened her lips and sucked more desperately on the hardened cock, loving the feel and pungent male taste of it in her mouth.
The man fucking down between her legs suddenly bellowed and shot his hot searing sperm deep up inside her, clutching her body as hard as he could, sending delicious spasms of heat ricocheting all the way up to her breasts that swirled around unbelievably deep and transformed itself into an intense and all-consuming pleasure that bubbled up like red-hot lava and made her groan and plead inwardly for more. He moaned in satiation and rolled off of her, leaving the whole of her belly filled with the warmth of his thick white semen.
The second man got on top of her and began fucking her harder than the first. Sara sucked wildly on the cock in her mouth, holding on for dear life as she felt her strength going and the second man fucking her with a passion that was almost sadistic. She didn't care. She relaxed her body and hoped they would fuck her all night. They could do anything to her now. Bind her and beat her and force her into degenerate acts of humiliation. In fact, in her fevered brain, she hoped they would. Her body was covered with sweat and her hips were acting independent of her mind, as if they had a soul and desires all their own, moving lewd and lustful. There were many naked bodies around her and she was mounting to a climax now and had never felt so alive or vital in her life. Even Lee, her husband, was forgotten in the heat of her passion.
Lee was, in fact, at that very minute, pulling into the Peach driveway with Joni at his side. As inexplicably as she had insisted that they go to the motel, Joni, glancing at the clock, had insisted that they leave. They had been playing games all evening and Lee was beginning to suspect that the bitch was playing another game all of her own. They had mauled and caressed and kissed and sucked and fucked with Joni always diabolically stopping things whenever she felt Lee nearing an orgasm.
When she insisted that they leave and go to her house, Lee was ready to explode. His rage was barely concealed as he dressed hurriedly and they walked to the car without him looking at her or saying a thing.
Once he was driving, she put- her hand on his thigh and said, "Slow down, take it easy. We'll play another game."
"Like what?" Lee snapped.
"I'm a hitchhiker you picked up and, while you're driving, I take your penis out and crouch down and suck it. Nobody will be able to see me, but they'll be able to see you. Interested?"
Despite his anger, Lee nodded.
And Joni had really crouched down in the passenger well and taken his cock out and it didn't take much nursing for it to be erect. Lee was horny and frustrated. He looked around at the traffic. The idea that he could look at other drivers and they wouldn't know what was happening, excited him. Damn, he thought, I'm turning into a real freak. With a smile, he thought, it would be fun to see my secretary while Joni Peach was sucking me off!
He glanced down and saw his next door neighbor's auburn hair spill over his lap and felt the sweet, wet, warm, touch of her lips and tongue on the head of his cock and he moaned and his body shuddered and the car swerved and he slowed down and fought for control, trying to focus on the traffic around him.
Lee drove at a snail's pace as Joni sucked slowly and softly at a rhythm he loved. He made it to her house and into the driveway with his whole body quivering in time to her sucking, her lips now tight around the shaft of his cock.
"Hey," he said, alarm in his voice. "There are cars here!"
Joni stopped regretfully, pulling her head away and looking up, brushing the hair out of her eyes. "Yes," she said, huskily, her blue eyes smoky and dreamy. "Guests. Remember when I asked you if you'd like to do it with others watching? Well, now's your chance."
Lee was ready to back the car out of the driveway. He looked around, afraid of what he had done. Suppose Sara had seen his car pull in? Who were the people? Did they know him? Was Martin there? "I ... I don't think I'd better," he stammered.
Joni's eyes narrowed. "Okay, then this is good-bye! I might have known. You're really chicken. Afraid. You're not a man!"
Stung, passion still strong in him, his cock still out and rigid like a ramrod, Lee felt anger again. Not a man! "Who's in there and what's going on?" he asked.
Disgusted, Joni Peach started to get out of the car. "You'll never know. Know what I was going to do to you in there? Just what I've been doing in the car only you could have some people watching me do it." She put her head close to Lee, her whole body snuggling closer. "I thought you'd like it, but I was wrong." Lee could smell her perfume and body heat. "There are other women in there you could fuck too if only you were man enough, but you're not!" She started to get out of the car.
Visions of nights in the bushes and what he had seen in that room danced through his head. It was too much for him to take. A combination of fatigue, booze, and his frustrated excitement made him reckless. If Sara saw his car in the driveway, he could make up some plausible story. So what! What the hell! Just once to be in that room! "All right!" he agreed bravely, slipping his penis back in his pants, "Let's go!"
The blond man, Lange, was now the fourth man to fuck Sara Driscoll, her body covered with sweat and welts while the young girl with the short hair, Mimi, was bending over her and expertly sucking and biting her nipples, arousing her to an even wilder frenzy. Her eyes were bugging and the veins standing out in her neck as she was coming in the first orgasm of her life as Lee and Joni stole quietly into the room.
The scene was too much for Lee to believe. Right next to him, naked, her back to the wall, was Lange's cute young wife, Patty. Her arms were at her side, helpless, and her head lolling, her body slumping to the floor as a man Lee had never seen before had three fingers up her cunt fingerfucking wildly between her legs while his mouth, was half devouring one of her breasts. People were all over the room as he stood and gaped and felt Joni Peach slipping his penis out. Then, before he could catch his breath, she was on her knees and sucking on his cock as he fought to get his clothes off while his eyes raced unbelieving around the room.
On the floor, on a mattress, he could see figures writhing. A man. Two men. No, that short haired girl. "Jesus," he moaned as the doctor's wife sucked harder and he fought to get out of his clothes. "Jesus Christ!" he said as he watched. The man was fucking some girl, fucking her senseless, shamelessly. The man turned his head and Lee saw that it was Lange, the young girl against the wall's husband. He couldn't see the face of the woman they were dually fucking but he saw her writhing and bucking beneath them as though she were insane and at that moment, he too wanted to fuck her.
He watched, amazed, as her young lithe body lifted from the mattress with only her feet and the nape of her neck remaining and she shuddered and wailed, her tight, hair-lined little vaginal mouth sucking desperately at the huge pole of hardened male flesh fucking mercilessly into her as she came in the wildest, most primitive orgasm Lee had ever seen.
Aroused beyond all reason by the lewd, carnal scene of the unknown girl on the mattress getting herself fucked shitless, he pushed Joni Peach's mouth from his cock and fell on top of her, pawing at her clothing. Lying on top of her, ripping her panties down and feeling his cock sink into her sweet hot cunt, then he looked back and saw the man, Lange, roll off the woman-he had just fucked half to death and he froze, losing all breath from his body. It was Sara!
During all this time, Dr. Martin Peach had kept his composure, glancing at his watch and looking at the door. When Lee Driscoll and Joni came in, he had slipped back into the shadows, away from all that was happening, and watched Lee, ready to move.
With a roar, Lee was on his feet, frightening everybody present. He ran to his wife. Another woman was on top of her, caressing her ravaged cunt with her hand while Sara, with eyes half-closed, was grinning lewdly up at her. The woman was sent flying bodily across the room and all stopped and looked at Lee standing with fists clenched above his naked wife. Sara looked up at him and didn't seem the same person. It was like this was the real Sara and Lee had been married to a robot. She saw her husband and spread her legs wide and moaned, "Oh fuck me, fuck me, make me do it again!"
Lee stood numb, looking down at his young, unrecognizable wife who writhed so slowly, her hips grinding around in lewd invitation and looking, for all the world, like an Arabian belly dancer on her back. "Fuck me, Lee!" she whispered. "Fuck me, darling!"
Rage exploded in him and he bellowed as he fell savagely on top of her, bellowing, "I'll fuck you! You bitch! I'll fuck you till the cum pours out your ears!"
He was like an animal. He was cold-blooded and brutal. He was going to fuck his cheating little wife insane and then inside out. And then he would get revenge on each and every person there!
In his corner, Martin Peach permitted himself an indulgent smile. "Some doctor I am. I didn't have to say a thing," he said as he unbuttoned his shirt, that evil smile still on his face.
Everyone in the room watched as Lee fucked like a bull gone mad, bucking his wife like a life-sized rag doll across the mattress, her head on the floor now as he mercilessly slammed his cock into her again and again.
Martin Peach, naked, walked to the mattress and said, "Turn her over, roll her over."
"Huh?" Lee said, looking up.
Martin stood over them, naked, his huge cock, the biggest Lee had ever seen, in his hand, a tight smile on his lips. Lee looked down to see Sara too gazing up at his cock with awe and he could feel her body tremble underneath him as she imagined that great thing going into her.
"Turn her over so we can both fuck her at the same time," Martin said in a tight tense voice.
Lee looked down at Sara who closed her eyes and hugged him tight, whispering, in a shaking voice, "Turn me over, darling, I can take it."
The obscenity of it all was too much to resist. Yes, he thought cunningly, we'll do it and then I'll ram it to this bastard's wife the same way!
Holding her tight, with Martin's help, he rolled Sara over on top of him, her lovely breasts pressing tight down against his chest.
A thrill ran through the intently watching onlookers and they all gathered around in a circle as the young voluptuous woman pulled her knees up under her and spread her knees wide on either side of his hips so that her buttocks were apart and all could see the shaft of her husband's prick buried deep up in the hair-lined lips of her cunt. With a moan of delight, Sara began slowly and sensuously, nibbling the walls of her pussy up and down her husband's hardened cock, knowing, instinctively what was going to happen as behind her she felt Martin Peach's probing finger flicking teasingly over her tightly puckered anus. They were going to humiliate and use her in front of the others and she wanted them to! She winced with pain as she felt her next door neighbor's finger probe into her anus up to the first knuckle.
It hurt, but it was all right. Secretly, she wished for more. She felt so lewd, so obscene. She knew that the pain would turn to pleasure and, the greater the pain, the more pleasure. "Tie me!" she panted.
"What?" Lee asked.
"Tie me, tie me up and do what you want to me!" she gasped.
Above her, he heard Martin say, "Get some rope. Roanna, get rope and tie her hands."
And they did, crowding around her while Martin continued to probe her anus causing her to squirm her buttocks around in tiny lewd circles and wince. They pulled her hands behind her and tied them tightly, leaving her helpless as Martin used his other hand to rub her own vaginal secretions all around her anus and then she felt his heavy weight on top of her, pressing her buttocks down, forcing Lee's cock below, up into her cunt to the hilt and then she felt the great thick head of Martin Peach's prick spreading the soft yielding cheeks back there, spreading them with pain mounting and she tried to struggle, saying, "No!" in a low whimpering voice.
As the pain and pressure slowly grew, her pleas grew to screams and she raved and ranted, begging, promising anything if only Martin would stop. She felt the head of it stretch her tiny anal mouth wide and suddenly pop inside and felt as if she were being split in two and she would end up a bloody mess as Martin pushed harder. He wormed the head of his cock a fraction of an inch deeper into her distended anus and Sara screamed and thrashed her head around and tried to free her tied hands until with a sudden grunt she felt his pubic hairs grazing the backs of her thighs. He was all the way in!
"NO, no, no! Please, I beg you!" she screamed, sweat pouring from her face, her teeth gritted. She would pass out, she would die from such pain. It was unendurable.
Others were growing apprehensive. Perhaps Martin had gone too far. They had never done anything like this before and it was possible that the girl might be hurt. One man was about to say something as Martin began to slowly grind it around inside the soft, yielding confines of her rectum and Sara screamed again. However, he stopped for a moment allowing her rectal passage to adjust to his size and Sara's face was slowly changing and her screams were dropping in intensity to dark low moans. "Look, someone gasped, she's loving it!"
And Sara was. Crouched on the floor, on top of her husband, her back bent and her hands tied behind her, pinned cruelly in place between two hardened male cocks, with Martin's lewd fucking in and out of her anus, the pain went deep and welled back up in pleasure. Pleasure so searingly sweet she couldn't believe it, pleasure so wild and free she wanted nothing but to stay in this ecstatic state as long as she lived.
The heat in the room seemed to mount to a stifling degree as everyone huddled around, naked, caressing one another, fucking, all of them turning their eyes to watch Sara Driscoll helpless, tied, pinned between the men as they fucked wildly into her, only a soft fleshy membrane separating their cocks as Sara was bounced and battered back and forth, on her knees, sweating, her full, firm breasts dancing freely. Hands were reaching to caress her naked buttocks and pinch her nipples and her eyes were closed and her mouth open and she was breathing hard, a lewd smile of carnal delight twitching on her lips as she moaned, over and over again, "Yes! Oh, yes! Do it, do it, do it!"
And then she came, moaning and twisting like a madwoman until she collapsed limply between them while the two men went on fucking her until moments later they too erupted, shooting their scalding sperm flooding deep up into her still hungrily constricting young belly. After that, there were more, many more taking her in every possible way ... the night droned on and on ... endlessly shrouded in ecstasy ...
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It is two months later and the phone is ringing, awakening Lee Driscoll from a deep sleep. Naked, he rolls over on the bed and answers. "Hullo," he says sleepily. "Who?" A lazy smile spreads across his face. "Martin, you son-of-a-gun, how are you? Where are you?"
Lee sat up in bed, grinning and groping for a cigarette. "On the coast again, huh? Having a ball, I'll bet. Listen, we'd love to get out there for a seminar or two. Great country, I hear. What? The center is fine. Yeah, I've got a waiting list and Dan, the therapist you sent in is great." Lee gave a low chuckle. "And so is his wife, as you well know, you bastard."
Lee sat cross-legged on the bed, listening to Martin's voice and answering all his questions about how the center was doing. He had quit working for the bank and for Sara's father and had gone to work for Martin, for more money, acting as an administrator and public relations man for the center which had only recently gotten under way. It was a smashing success, with all seminars and group sessions booked up solid and a nice waiting list of couples eager to get in.
Martin was pleased and suggested he and Sara take the month of August off and come out to the coast to see the original center in operation. "Love to," Lee grinned, thinking of an evening spent with Joni and Sara and just himself.
"What?" he asked, stubbing out the cigarette. "Sara? Fine. She got over it quickly. Thanks to you. I don't know what you said or did, but she was a changed woman after those sessions. Yeah. What? I saw the films. Yeah. Ha. Me out in those bushes when all the time I could have been inside. God, I was pitiful. Yeah, I burned them."
Lee stretched out on the bed, naked, smiling into the phone. "Who? Sara? She's not here. Where? She's out with a friend of mine. Yeah." Lee laughed and said, "All right! So I like to watch, what's the harm in that? What? Yeah, I'll be careful. See you in August. So long."
Lee looked up, hands behind his head, at the mirror he had installed in the ceiling. He laughed to himself and hung the buzzing phone up. Glancing at his watch, he saw it would be a few hours before Sara came home with a "guest". By that time, he would have gotten dressed, made the bed, and, with a good stiff drink, retired upstairs to sit and watch his wife and one of his best friends, Dick Felton, make love down below. Dick was stuffy and conservative, but he was sure Sara could handle him.
Humming to himself, Lee got up to take a shower. Life was good ... damn good!