Unrest on the college campus is a new phenomenon in the United States. Excluding left-wing agitation, some of the demands of student dissidents may, on the surface, seem strange and unreasonable, but this new generation in rebellion has taken a good, long look at the upright generation and found it wanting.
Education is a process of passing from one generation to the next the culture of our ancestors-and our additions-to all future generations. We know from history of the great civilizations of the past, the Egyptians, Greeks and Romans. It was Plato who: complained that the younger generation did not have the proper respect for the older, any longer. Are we, then, any different? In his own way Jesus of Nazareth was a rebel, and his reforms have been long-lasting. We are in an era of rapid change. Our youth are in the vanguard of the forces for change. Are they truly rebels without a cause? Some would have us believe that.
Hemmingway is not writing in Wives of Redfern College about student unrest, per se; rather, he is pointing to some of the profound reasons for student unrest, reasons why the youth of America no longer trust the older generation.
Teaching is not confined to the classroom. Moral values are taught by precept and example, and here is where the rebel students find the older generation wanting.
The uptights decry the use of drugs by youth, and they, in turn, point to the tremendous national consumption of alcohol. Young people have no direction, no ambition, and youth answers the charge with a j candid accusation of corruption in high places. Who, they ask, possesses the most integrity, the unwashed hippie or the college president who uses college funds to bet against his own college teams ... the coach who throws the game? The cry of loose morals among the young is lost on them. They merely point to the suburban swap clubs ... or the swap clubs that exist among college faculty members. Is it possible that youth sees with a keener eye, and is better able to spot the phony in what they see?
The publisher is proud to present in this volume, by Felix P. Hemmingway, who takes a long, discerning look at the members of a typical college faculty, examining the morals, sexual practices and political infighting. The ivy-covered walls are being torn down to reveal what really goes on inside the cloistered quad.
Is it any wonder that students want to have a hand in determining what is being taught, by whom it is taught and for what reasons.
After Anne'and Eric have been lured into joining the faculty swap club at Redfern, Eric, grudgingly, had to admit that Dr. Meaders and his beautiful wife Nora had, unwittingly, taught them both something ... more than mere sexual response. They had taught them about themselves. In the long-run, self-knowledge may be more important than gaining a full professorship or needing a haircut and a shave. It is just possible that it is here, in the sphere of self-knowledge and understanding that youth may be able to show the older generation that the young people of America have their feet planted solidly on the ground.
The reforms demanded on the college campuses of the United States ... those reforms demanded by students with long hair and beards may, also, have a long-lasting effect upon all institutions of higher learning.
THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
The smooth, long-legged loveliness of her, topped with damp, golden-blonde hair was reflected back to Anne, as she stepped gingerly from the tiled shower on to the fluffy bath mat before the full-length mirror. Languidly, she toweled herself dry, being extra careful of the upthrusting mounds of her breasts; they were quite sore to the touch, especially, the darker pink of the nipples, standing erect now from the slight irritation of the terry toweling. She looked into the mirror, ruefully, surveying her body, minutely, as she cataloged the areas where she could still feel the imprint of Eric's strong hands. Slight, blue and purple bruises showed, in several places, under the creamy, lustrous skin of the generous hemispheres of both breasts. She could see, clearly, the places where his fingers had dug into the soft flesh, cruelly, and there was a rawness to each nipple, as though they had been sand-papered.
Running her hands over her body, she winced in pain, as she became aware of similar tender places on her curving thighs and rounded buttocks. Then, her hands found the silky triangle of her womanhood, moving, gently, over the private parts of her, there ... exploring, probing her hurts. With both hands, now, she gingerly spread the lips to determine the extent of the havoc her husband had played upon her genitals, the night before, during an especially violent love-making session. She ran a finger, cautiously, into the slit and around the vaginal opening; the raw, exposed nerve endings signaled, painfully, their tender, abused state.
My God! It hurts so much! Why does love-making have to hurt like this? Eric gets so wild! The Lord above knows how much I love him ... but he comes at me like ... like an animal. Yes, that's it! I never thought of him ... Eric being like that ... like a ... a stallion! Yes! A stallion ... with that huge thing of his sticking out in front of him. It scares me half to death! I know I can take all of him ... inside of me, but I just can't bring myself to let him do those ... those awful things to me ... or what he wants me to ... to do to him. I can't do it! I just can't do it!
With a shudder, her shoulders quivering delicately, to blot out the memory of last night, she reached up into the medicine cabinet for a tube of soothing cream, which she applied to the abraded tissues of the snug opening, smearing the unguent on with gentle, caressing strokes. The inner petals were covered, then she moved on, upward to the clitoridal bud, instantly, feeling the electric tingle of sensual pleasure as she touched it. She did not dwell there. The thought-the very idea-that she might generate in herself a towering, sexual climax ran counter to every fiber of her conscious being.
"The temple of the human body is sacred. It is not to be defiled by self-abuse!" she quoted to herself.
How many times have I heard that? It must be a part of me, by now. Every time I've ever felt like ... like doing it to myself, there ... there it is ... in my head, running around inside me, telling me, DON'T DO IT! IT'S A SIN ... A MORTAL SIN, IN THE EYES OF GOD! Maybe, that's the reason I can't be the kind of woman Eric wants me to be. I even try to stop him from touching me there! But, God ... how I've wanted to do it!
She felt the flush in her cheeks, even in the privacy of the bathroom, as the thought of the pleasure she had received, on those few times, when Eric had stroked her clitoris to hard erectness, bringing her a feeling of indecent shame.
Anne couldn't control her reaction. The strictness of her midwestern upbringing, with its dogmatic adherence to literal, Biblical orthodoxy, steeped in an imprisoning community, so small that everyone in town knew every other person in town-knew all of this ... and more, and it was too strong in her. Always present and foremost was the consideration of what other people thought ... about what you did, or didn't do. These were the dual sins of commission and omission. The church was the hub of community life. Sunday School, Church Youth Fellowship, Church Services, Church Socials and a daily, circumspect awareness of the religious in all of a person's actions and thoughts at school, at play and at home, were all there, bearing down on her. The community watched and judged all within its bounds, and, even though, she was almost two thousand miles west of that place-away from her home town for the first time in her life-a married woman, now, she still felt its influence ... she still felt watched ... and judged. Her body had escaped the physical restraints of the place, but her mind was still bound, an unwilling prisoner of her past.
She dressed quickly, covering her body, blotting out its demanding sensuality from herself. In the face of the growing awareness of her need ... a desire for sexual fulfillment, she could not trust herself; her beautiful young body reflected in the mirror screamed for it, and she was frightened. The un-reasoning, unconscious part of her mind knew that she had but to reach her hand out to herself to gain a pleasurable release, but the reasoning mind rejected it, completely.
Then, fully clothed and groomed, she busied herself with mundane, household duties. She was an excellent housewife, going about her work with method and energy and enjoying her involvement in it. Her attack upon the chores absorbed and masked her libidinous drives. Eric was truly proud of her, in this respect, she thought. His words ran through her mind, "Gosh, Anne, nobody could be as lucky as I am ... you're just about the best cook there is. This apple pie is out of this world!"
She basked in the glow of his compliments, and she worked even harder to please him with favorite dishes, keeping the old house, in which they lived, meticulously clean and orderly. It was in the bedroom ... their bedroom where she felt inadequate. She wished that she could please Eric there, as well and as easily, as she pleased him in the kitchen with a piece of apple pie.
As befits the wife of an up-and-coming, young, college coach, she entertained other members of the faculty and their wives with perfect little dinner parties, occasional cocktail hours and patio barbecues. Her husband, Eric Field, was an Assistant Professor in the Physical Education Department of Redfern College. He was the head football coach of the Redfern Rams, the team he had coached to an undefeated season the year before. The present year had been even better, as the juggernaut team he had developed rolled up ever larger scores in victory after victory.
Anne Field, a bride of only three months, shared her husband's enthusiasm for sports-football in particular-and followed the team carefully in all its activities, meanwhile, giving Eric all of the wifely encouragement she could in his exacting work.
Later in the morning, she donned shorts and halter and went out into the bright November sunshine to do some work in the flower beds. She looked with nostalgia at their rented house, then glanced up and down the tree-shaded street, lined on either side with grand old houses that reminded her so much of her own midwestern heritage. She felt right at home among them. Except for the brilliant sun, shining, overhead, she found it hard to believe that she was in Redfern, one of the chief cities of the Inland Empire, the Citrus Belt of Southern California.
Anne puttered about in the yard, stopping for a few moments to chat of inane things with the wife of the biology professor, who lived next door, but she, hastily, excused herself when she noted that it was nearing the noon-hour. Eric would be coming home for his lunch, today, and she wanted to fix him an especially appetizing meal; one that would give him the balanced diet he needed, and would, also, give him the energy for the gruelling sessions on the football practice field ... sessions that would not end for him until well after the sun had set. He worked hard at his job, and Anne felt it her duty to provide him with the necessary fuel for his body to enable him to work that hard.
Eric bounced into the house, entering the kitchen where she was preparing his lunch. He enveloped her in a great bear-hug, giving her a lingering kiss, hard on her up-turned lips, leaning his head down to her and using his tongue to-force open her lips to him. This was one concession she had made to him-to his desire for what she considered unnecessary sensuality-especially, in a casual kiss of greeting or of good-bye. She was always surprised by it ... even a little revulsed, but she had decided that it was a small thing for her to do ... to put up with for him, if he was more satisfied with her as a wife ... as his woman.
"What's for lunch, Honey?" he asked, looking around the kitchen like a hungry bear.
"How about a couple of nice roast beef sandwiches and lettuce and tomato salad ... sound good?"
"MMmmmm, sounds great," he agreed with gusto.
"And for dessert," she continued, "I have a piece of that peach cobbler...."
Eric leered at her suggestively, "I'll have that ... and a little piece of you, on the side."
His hands made suggestive motions down her back, as he smoothed them across her buttocks, reveling in their firm protuberance, cupping the rounded mounds of them in his huge hand and pulling her pelvis in hard to his own stiffening penis beneath his trousers.
Anne could feel the warmth and the bulging, warm firmness at his crotch, and she knew that he wanted her ... wanted what he had been calling in a disgusting way a nooner with her ... she could hardly stand the thought of having sex in the middle of the day.
She said, "You can have the cobbler ... but do you really have time ... for the other...?"
It wasn't that she really wanted to put him off ... she liked for him to compliment her, fondle her and woo her to their bed, but she just couldn't help feeling that having sexual intercourse in the middle of the day was, somehow, wrong.
Eric released her, saying, jokingly, "I've always got time for you, Anne ... morning, noon or night...."
He gave her a playful slap on the bottom, as she turned to the counter to begin serving the lunch she had prepared for them.
"You'd better get ready to eat, Darling," she said.
The sway of her hips, as she walked away from him, held his attention, his eyes riveted on her, watching the undulating flesh inside the shorts, mentally, undressing her, and he liked what he saw ... he always had from the very beginning.
"I'm ready ... always ready for you, Honey."
Smiling back over her shoulder at him, she saw his lust-filled eyes, as he watched her, and she wished to her heaven that she could learn how to handle Eric's sexually leading innuendos and lewd interjections.
Anne turned away from her husband, flushing, in spite of herself, the beginnings of a frown creasing her lovely face, as Eric left the kitchen and headed for the bathroom.
That gleam in his eye ... that look of his, when he wants to ... to make love to me ... it's pure lust ... pure animal lust ... and I'm the object of his lust. It makes me feel ... dirty ... nasty! God, how I wish I could learn to ... to understand it ... to know what to do ... what to say, when he does those things ... and says those awful things to me....
Anne finished setting the table and called him to eat lunch. They ate the meal together; she, somewhat sparingly, only picking at the food, but Eric ate ravenously, as large men of action will eat. His appetite always seemed to match his size and stature.
The big coach finished off the generous serving of peach cobbler, sighed contentedly, and reached for her, again, saying "That's a mighty fine meal, Mrs. Field ... now for the dessert!"
She had just risen from the table, and she moved to escape him, trying to pick up some dishes from the table, as a camouflage. He rose, swooped and captured her, easily, holding her immobile in a vise-like grip, the dishes tumbling back to the table top with a clatter. His lips sought hers, and he kissed her hard and long. Finally, she placed both her hands flat on his chest and pushed him away from her.
"C'mon, Anne, honey ... let's have a little loving...."
"Please, Eric ... not today, again ... so soon ... I don't like to ... to do it in broad daylight. It seems so ... so...."
"Seems so what?" he questioned. "Immoral ... is that what you started to say?"
"No," she lied. "It's ... it's just better for me ... if we do it at night."
Undaunted, he, again, bent his head down to her, capturing her lips, and he was kissing her long and passionately, probing her mouth with his tongue, his hands busy on her body, exploring the womanly curves of her, kneading and caressing her, trying to communicate his great need of her through action ... and action, alone.
His fingers found the zipper placket on her shorts; she heard the swishing whisper of the fastener, as he opened it, and the garment fell with a sigh of the material, sliding down over the swell of her hips to land in gathers around her trim ankles. Again, she broke the kiss, pulling her head back and to one side.
She whispered. "Eric ... the neighbors ... what will they think...?"
"To hell with the neighbors! It's none of their business!" he said, vehemently, as he dipped his hands under the elastic waistband of her panties to grasp a smoothly rounded buttock-cheek in either hand.
"But, what if somebody really did see us ... you know ... without our clothes on?" she pursued.
He declared his position with emphasis, "Look ... we're married ... man and wife ... and this is our home. I'll do what I want to do in it ... and nobody will stop me!"
Then, with a deft movement he pushed her panties down over the smooth, rounded curves of her buttocks, and the wisp of nylon joined her shorts at her ankles. The clasp of the halter-top and the hooks of her bra occupied his attention only momentarily. He flung the garments from her, and she stood, nudely, statuesque and lovely, in the middle of her kitchen, leaning into his arms, pliant and unresisting.
Her face flushed with the shame of it ... of being stripped naked, at midday, in a room other than the bathroom or their bedroom. She thought of making another complaint, but she bit her tongue, deciding that she would gain nothing by so doing. It seemed to her that she was always on the defensive, lately, and she didn't want Eric to think that she objected to everything ... all the time.
"Anne, Anne, Darling ... your body ... it's so beautiful ... you're so desirable...." he said.
His muscular arms swept her up; lifting her, easily, he carried her to their bedroom, leaving a trail of her garments behind them, as they fell from around her feet to the floor. He deposited her on the soft, yielding mattress and stepped back to kick off his shoes. The remainder of his clothing followed, as he clawed the garments from him, frantically, scattering them helter-skelter in a flurry of swift movements.
Anne watched her husband undress, admiring his manly physique, but as she did, a tidal wave of conflicting thoughts and emotions coursed, confusingly, through her.
Eric's such a strong, virile man ... almost a perfect Adonis ... like some of the old Greek statues we studied. Oh, I do love him so much! He's such a good man ... a wonderful husband! But, I can't match him ... get ready for him ... so quick. His passion rises so ... so fast ... and ... so rigid. Look at his manhood ... it stands up so proud ... and ready ... and it's so huge! It looks blood-red on the head of it ... throbbing away, like that ... it frightens me! If he just wouldn't come at me in such a rush ... give me some time to ... to get in the mood for making love. I know I'm not going to enjoy it ... I never do ... but I want him to be happy. That's what's really important ... I have to make sure that he's happy ... and satisfied. Oh, Dear God, please, please, let me do it with him, so that he'll keep on thinking that I'm ... that I'm ... happy ... too!
Her husband came to the bed and lay down beside her. He reached for her, grasping one full, firm breast in an enormous hand, he massaged it, roughly, the mounded femaleness plastic and yielding under his kneading fingers.
He said, huskily, his great need apparent in the urgency of his voice, "God, Anne ... I'm getting so worked up ... I've got to have you ... now!"
"Let's wait, Eric ... wait until I'm...."
His lips stopped her, his tongue lashing into her mouth, as his hand left the breast it was mauling and moved downward across her belly, coming to rest on the golden, softly curling hair of her genital mound. His hand was stopped there; he couldn't move it, easily, between her thighs and into her vaginal slit, because she had clamped her legs tightly together.
Anne twisted her mouth to the side, "No, Eric ... wait ... give me time to...."
He cut in, interrupting her, "You keeping things locked up, down there?"
"No," she said. "I've been trying to tell you ... to wait ... wait until I'm ready...."
The big man began to insinuate his middle finger into the soft, hair-lined crease, but he couldn't get it in far enough.
"Open your legs!" he commanded.
She obeyed him, compliantly. Snake-like, he ran his hand down over her pubic hair, cupping the whole of her naked loins in his big hand, pressing it all up tight between her open legs, compressing the folds of flesh, and kneading her, as he had her breast, moments before. She gasped, the painfulness still there from the violent treatment of his pounding pelvis in the lovemaking of the previous evening.
"Oh! OOOoooooh, Eric ... I'm still sore and tender ... down there!" she wailed.
"Well ... can you imagine the ache I've got ... in my balls? I've got to get it in you ... I've got to!"
She moaned in answer to his frantic demands and the pain in her genitals. She wanted him to be happy ... she had pledged it, but it was the soreness there that spoke for her, "It hurts too much ... do you have to do it, again ... so soon?"
For answer, his finger was in the furrow of her cunt, moving in the pink, tender flesh, insistently, now, then, upward, through the slight moistness to find the hidden bud of her clitoris. He rubbed at it, stroking the tiny button, trying to rouse it to alert erectness, but it lay flaccid and unresponding under his frantic fingers, refusing to leave its canopied protection.
Suddenly, with a mighty groan, Eric heaved himself to his knees; he could wait no longer. Kneeling over his wife, he placed himself between her partly spread legs, pushing outward with his muscular thighs to spread her limbs even further apart.
His prick was fully hardened, its huge, blood-engorged length jutting out from his hairiness like another arm. He took that monstrous cock in his hand, and came down, slowly, upon her, as he guided it to the soft, hair-lined slit at the opening of her vagina. His hips pressed the lust-inflated head against the reddened flesh of her, trying to force the lust-hardened cock into her barely moistened and unready cunt.
"Oh, My God, Eric! Please, wait ... just a little while ... I'm not ready ... yet! Ooooh, please ... you're hurting me." she pleaded.
"What do you want me to do with this thing?" he ground out at her. "I can't wait ... any longer!"
Eric's face froze, the anger rising in him, as he spat out, "So, now, I'm an animal, am I? Is that what you think ... really think, about me?"
Her eyes puddled, quickly, sorry for what she had said, "No ... I don't really mean that, darling...."
He was truly angry, now, "That's what you said, God damn it! ... And, if that's what you think ... I'll show you even if you are my wife! I'm going to fuck you within an inch of your life!"
That base, vulgar, four-letter word went through her like a knife, slicing, slashing and jabbing at her mind. Her body stiffened, and her face froze into a mask of injured self-righteousness.
"Let me up, Eric!" she said, coldly. You know how I hate that word!"
"Come off it, Anne! It's a good Anglo-Saxon word that's been used for centuries." he said, trying to placate her.
Anne would not change her course; she said, "I don't care ... I don't like it ... and I won't have you using it ... saying it to me ... when you're making love to me!"
"For Christ's sake, Anne ... be reasonable!" he shot back.
"You be reasonable! ... And, don't take the Lord's name in vain ... either!" she snapped at him, furiously, attempting to free herself from his pinioning embrace.
Eric was rapidly becoming exasperated with her objections, and he found that the growing anger within him was cooling his ardor. His prick was still hard, but the inner turmoil ... the conflict of wills was taking its toll; he could feel the change taking place in him. Some detumescence of his virile organ was already evident. He tried to placate her.
"All right, Anne ... I'm off-side...." he began, awkwardly, trying to apologize.
"I'm not going to lie here ... and be talked to like a ... a common ... prostitute," she continued, twisting herself free of him, finally, and sitting upright on the edge of the bed.
"But, Anne, honey ... I'm your husband ... I've got some rights! What do you want me to do...?"
She shot back, "Just leave me alone!"
He tried to put his big arms around her, but she stopped him, pushing him away from her and pulling her head back and to one side to avoid his searching lips.
"Don't touch me ... you ... you brute ... you animal!" she said with venom.
The big man was angry, now, and he raised his voice, shouting at her, "First, I'm uncouth ... crude ... vulgar ... and now I'm an animal ... and all in God's name I'm trying to do is to make love to you ... be a loving husband! And, you get your feelings hurt because I use a few four-letter words ... words that everybody knows ... that are written on practically every public rest-room wall ... and because of some stupid, puritanical ideas of yours you won't have anything to do with me ... well to hell with it! I'm getting fed up ... right up to here!"
He heaved himself, angrily, from the bed, gathered up his clothing and plunged toward the bathroom, slamming the door hard behind him. He turned on the cold water tap, wet a wash cloth and bathed his aching cock to ease the frustration and pain of the incomplete sex act. Then, he dressed, quickly, to go back to the campus. At least, he could throw himself into the work waiting for him there, and thereby ease, somewhat, the rebuff and disappointment he had just suffered. He seethed, inwardly, his anger mounting higher each moment.
Anne lay on their bed in a dejected heap, curled up with her legs tightly clamped together, listening to the running water in the bathroom and the sounds of Eric's rummaging about, knowing that she had given him cause for his anger. She tried to fathom what it must be like for a man to be stopped in the middle of a sexual encounter. She already knew well her own feeling.
I know it must be just horrible for him to ... to have to stop ... it must be painful, and terribly frustrating ... Sex seems to be so important to him. It should be important to me, too. It is; I was just starting to feel something ... something stirring in me ... down there. Now, he won't be able to go on with it ... because I dove into him, like that ... drove him off! Oh, Dear God ... I need help to understand him ... understand myself! I feel like I'm on the outside of a big mansion house ... looking through a window at a fabulous party going on ... just after somebody's slammed the door in my face ... and telling me that I wasn't invited!
She roused herself, remembering that she was lying nude on the counterpane. She turned back the covers and climbed into the bed, between the clean, crisp sheets, pulling the bedclothes over her up to her chin.
I'm a silly little fool! Why did I have to react that way? ... Get angry with Eric over that ... that word? I could have overlooked it, but I didn't ... I barged right ahead ... saying awful things to him ... Why? Oh, why? ... And, just when it was starting to feel good ... I guess it's a ... sexy ... feeling ... down there ... in my ... my genitals.
She lay on her back, tensely, her legs still clamped tightly together, fighting for control of her mind and body. The smoldering sensations of desire were growing ever stronger in her, but she refused to touch herself to fan them into a full, roaring flame.
No! No! I won't do it! It's nasty ... it's a sin, SINFUL! Dear God, give me the strength ... the will power. Help me!
Turning on her side, then, she pretended to be asleep. She didn't want to face Eric when he came out of the bathroom. It would be better, she thought, if any conversation about their impasse were postponed. Later, she reasoned, they could both be more calm ... and maybe, they would be able to discuss it like two adult married people.
Eric came back into the bedroom, fully dressed, now; he saw that his wife was asleep, curled up under the covers, her golden blond hair tousled on the pillow. Momentarily, he hesitated, but decided not to disturb her, striding quickly from the room, he closed the door, none too softly, behind him.
The flaming anger still raged in him, as he left the house, and that gnawing ache, a longing for sexual fulfillment ... of completion almost overpowered him. A fleeting thought passed through his mind; he was wrong ... wrong to be treating Anne this way! He should go back to her; beg her forgiveness ... try to make her understand his need of her, but his wounded pride would not let him turn around, retrace his steps ... somehow that would be a betrayal of his manhood. After all, it was that same manhood she had rejected. As quickly as the thought had come, he drove it from his mind, preferring to nurture the seething anger instead.
Not until she heard the front door close behind him and the sound of the car motor purring, then rising to a full-throated roar, as Eric gunned the car down the driveway, did she allow herself the luxury of tears-tears of frustration and yearning.
J was so close! I'm sure that if Eric could have waited a little longer ... just a little longer ... been more gentle with me ... before he tried to put his thing in me ... I could have ... come ... to a ... climax! Oh, Dear God ... I love him ... more than anything in the world!
Anne cried herself to sleep, her frustrations, finally, passing from her in the relaxing restfulness of the big bed, but her slumbers were disturbed by a dream-a dream of unsurpassed beauty, in which she felt herself desired by many men.
Powerful, throbbing music was playing in a great, glittering hall, adorned with crystal mirrors, and she stood, proudly, nude before the men, each one a handsome Adonis. She danced as she had never danced before. It was an erotic dance, uninhibited and lewd, and she displayed her body in provocative poses.
As she danced, gliding across the floor from man to man, they caressed her, lovingly, admiringly, adoringly ... caressed every part of her body, intimately, and she returned the caresses. Then, one man. more handsome ... more masterfully endowed, danced with her, pressing his huge penis with a feathery touch against the bud of her womanhood, holding it there, moving it ever so gently over her clitoris, as he moved, gracefully, with her, held in the powerful rhythm of the dance, until she soared ... high, higher than the softly scudding clouds ... and with a rush, she knew that in her dream she had come to the orgasm she had so long sought. Then, she was lowered gently back to earth on a zephyr, suspended she knew not how, and she was in her bed, her body in spasms of overwhelmingly pleasurable sensations of orgasmic splendor.
She awoke from her sleep with her hand pressed, tightly, between her thighs. She blushed with the shame of it-the very thought of it revulsed her-that she had found her hand there. Her own hand had been the instrument, the cause of such sweet pleasure ... and she rejected it!
Oh, God! I must have done it to myself ... while I was sleeping! But, oh what a beautiful dream ... the music ... those handsome men ... that wonderfully free dance I was doing ... I wanted it to go on, forever! I felt so good ... simply out of this world! But, forgive me, Dear God! Forgive me for doing that awful thing to myself!
CHAPTER TWO
Eric Field squeezed his large but lithe and muscular frame into the small foreign car, started the engine, jerked it into reverse gear and rocketed the machine down the drive into the street; with tires and engine screaming he headed toward Campus Avenue and the college. The ache in his loins and his acute feeling of thwarted sexuality told him, only too clearly, that there was much missing from his married life.
Damn it! Anne's really got it ... a beautiful gal ... wonderful figure ... but she just lies there like a log while I'm trying to screw her! Wish I knew what's wrong ... she doesn't act normal. Everything I suggest to her-the things I'd like to do to liven things up a bit-she seems to think they're immoral or dirty. Hell! I'm no pervert ... all I want is a little excitement in our love-making.
She doesn't fool me one bit with her phony routine ... telling me how much she loves me ... trying to make me think she wants it ... because I want it. I don't think she ever really wants to make love to me ... she's never allowed me to get her worked up to it.
God! I've got such an ache in my balls...! It's all I could do to keep from grabbing her and throwing the meat to her ... but I couldn't do that to Anne ... she means too much to me!
He managed to get himself calmed down before he reached the light at Campus Avenue, where he stopped, making a right turn on the signal and entered the wide boulevard. Redfern College was located at the end of the street, about fifteen blocks away. He could see the tall bell tower thrusting up, boldly, above the low mass of the buildings, as he drove toward it. The jutting tower, cleaving the skyline, reminded-him again of a thought he had concerning the nature of the college campus; was it possible that it was really not an alma mater but a pater noster, instead?
His thoughts returned to Anne: She doesn't even let me finger her ... let alone ever let me get my tongue on her pussy. Damn! If I could give her a taste of that, she'd probably climb the walls...! ... like the time I tried to get her to take me dog fashion ... Christ! You'd think I'd tried to do something criminal ... she practically made a federal case out of it. There's no telling what she'd do if I suggested a ream job ... she'd probably call the cops ... or leave me, right then!
I should've found out how she feels about sex, before we got married ... while there was still time-it's too damned late now! Maybe, I should've tried harder to get into her, then ... that would've been the best way to find out. If I'd known she was frigid ... I might not have married her. Sometimes, I think she's like an iceberg ... all wrapped up like a Christmas gift that turns out to be nothing but a pretty package.
His attention was diverted from the traffic, momentarily; it was the figure of a woman that had caught his eye, and he was sure that he had recognized Susan Drake in mini-skirt and boots walking along the sidewalk in the direction of the college campus.
Now, there's some woman! She's always struck me as being a hot little bitch from the word go. I wonder how it'd be to get into her panties ... I'll bet she'd be a damn good lay.
Whoa! Wait just one minute ... what am I thinking about? I'm a married man! I can't go catting around, now!
... But, God, my balls ache! Why in hell did Anne have to get on her ear about that one word? When she didn't want to go on with it ... I was ready to go out of my mind ... but ... Damn it! I ... I love her too much to force her to do it! Its all I could do to keep my hands off her ... and off of myself, when I went into the bathroom. But, who wants a hand-job ... I haven't done that for years....
He was almost abreast of her, when the provocative swing of her hips and the flashing smile of recognition she threw over her shoulder toward his car, combined to cause him, on impulse, to steer the light car into the curb and stop beside her. He leaned across the seat, looking up and out at her where she had stopped, waiting, hesitantly.
Eric said, "Oh, Mrs. Drake ... can I give you a lift to the campus?"
She came to the car, "Why, it's Mr. Field! Hi, Coach! It's getting a little warm ... walking along. I didn't realize it was so far ... thanks...."
The big man opened the car door for her and she got in, revealing a good deal of her long, tapering legs to good advantage. Eric took a good, long look, feasting his eyes on her female loveliness. She had even more beautiful legs than he had remembered from seeing h r occasionally on the Redfern campus.
"Did your car break down?" he asked her when she had settled herself in the seat, moving both hands to her hair to tuck the long tresses back. The movement accented her thrusting bosom; the outline of her breasts prominent under the thin material of her dress.
'It's only a flat tire," she said. "And, naturally, we didn't have a spare in the car ... but I couldn't have changed it, anyway. I called the service station...."
"That's a hard job for a woman," he agreed, easing the car back into traffic.
As soon as he could do so, safely, he glanced over at her, appreciated, noting the swell of her thigh, which the mini-skirt barely covered. Her legs were clad in nylon, as far up her thigh as he could see, so he assumed that she was wearing one of the stylish body stockings that combined hose and panties in one garment. Mentally, he made the moral judgement that it was a good thing she was wearing pantyhose; it was the only thing that kept her decent.
Just then, he felt the familiar, pleasurable throb between his legs, as his penis began to engorge with his racingly hot blood, building an erection. His scrotum began to tighten and to pull his testicles up, the crawling sensation, again, making him acutely aware that he had been thwarted in his noon-time attempt to make love to his own beautiful wife.
He took another sidelong look at the slightly olive-skinned beauty of Susan Drake, her deeply wide-set dark eyes, brown hair and straight nose hinting of Latin blood-lines. Her dress fell in natural folds around her breasts, revealing the generous nature of them. The contours, softly rounding, made him wonder whether or not she was wearing a bra. The curve of her thigh was firm, her skirt stretching and straining to cover it but slightly. He followed the curves on down to tapering lower thighs and delicate knees, the calves swelling gently into the tops of her black boots. He couldn't see her ankles, but he knew that they, too, must be in the perfect proportion of the rest of her voluptuous body.
Eric's prick jumped in his pants. Quickly, he glanced down at himself to ascertain whether his throbbing erection was going to be obvious to her.
She was a well put together package of womanly beauty, he decided, but the fact that she was Dennis Drake's wife and a student at Redfern made her completely off-limits for him. She was taboo ... verboten, as professors at Redfern were prohibited from any and all social intercourse with female students!
He had seen her about the campus, and knew her at sight, having been only recently introduced to her when she became the bride of the Rams' star offensive quarterback, Dennis Drake. Both of them were in their fourth and final year at Redfern.
Eric had taken no special note of Susan Drake; his own marriage to Anne had taken place at about the same time, and he had been totally wrapped up in her until today ... until this moment. Now, however, he began to see Susan in a new light. She was a fully mature woman ... a very desirable woman, and Eric needed a woman ... badly. He stole another glance at her. He decided that she was, definitely, a very sexy young woman.
Should I make a pitch to her ... try to make her? It wouldn't be fair, I suppose ... She's Dennis' wife ... and I'm a married man, too. And, after all, I'm a professor ... and her husband's coach. Hell! What am I thinking about? I'm in love with Anne ... but she's got some kind of a hang-up ... It sure puts a crimp in things ... I haven't been getting what I'm supposed to be getting ... that's for sure!
God! I've already got a hard-on for this little gal! She's got a real pair of tits on her, too. What I wouldn't give to get my hands on those!
He smiled over at her, noting that her slim, tapering hands were in her lap, the lingers intertwined, tensely.
"I hope you're taking care of Dennis for us," he said. "He's a very important guy to the Redfern Rams...."
Susan smiled, wistfully, "I'm doing my best to take care of him ... I ... I just wish that he'd take care of me...."
She turned her head to look out the window. Eric spoke to the back of her head, puzzled by the addition to her statement.
"Oh...? Now, how am I supposed to interpret that? ' he asked, Her wide-eyed gaze held him as she turned back to look at him, fully, "It's really all your fault, Coach."
"Me!? ... Why?"
"He's been too tired, lately ... that's why! You must be driving him too hard ... on the football field!" she said, with agitation.
Eric reflected a moment, then said, "Come to think of it ... he has been acting a little pooped at practice. I thought maybe he was getting too much ... having too much home-work, lately."
She frowned, momentarily, the creases marring her lovely face, "Oh, he keeps up with his classes and football ... it's me he's been neglecting...."
Her message came over strong to him, but he was, also, sure that she, naively, didn't realize what she was saying. His eyes drifted over her, again, liking what he saw more and more; meanwhile, those college rules governing professors and female students were getting crowded further into the recesses of his mind by the persistent pulsing of the rock-hard erection between his legs. He decided to probe a little more
... test her responses ... try to find out exactly what she was thinking ... what she wanted.
"Do you mean he's not ... staying home, enough ... with you?" he asked her.
"He's at home enough ... most of the time...." Her voice was small, almost a whisper.
"Then, you must mean that ... he's ... he's not treating you right ... in bed ... is that it...?" he breathed.
She didn't answer, immediately. After a moment, she said, "Yes ... that's what I mean...." She sighed and dropped her gaze, demurely, to her hands, writhing nervously in her lap.
Eric knew her agitation, then. He said, "I didn't know that I ... the team was causing you some marital problems ... I...."
Susan looked up, quickly, "I'm sorry I told you, Mr. Field. You must think I'm...."
"Well, I'm not a marriage counselor ... I'm a football coach, and I don't want to create some kind of problem with my star quarterback...."
"Dennis doesn't even know I exist, sometimes...." she sighed, turning to look out the side window again.
"Oh ... how's that?"
"Well ... he doesn't ... do it enough ... his idea of keeping a wife happy is ... is doing it a couple of times a week." She still wouldn't look at him.
"And that isn't enough for you?" he queried.
"No ... not really ... I just go wild ... trying to get him interested in me," she whispered.
Eric laughed aloud. His explosive laughter startled and confused her. She jerked her head around to look at him in wide-eyed consternation.
"What's so funny, Coach? ... I wasn't trying to be humorous."
"I know ... it's just the impossibility of the situation," he chuckled. "What situation?"
"Ours ... yours ... mine." he gasped. "Yours?" '
"Yes ... mine!" he snapped. "My wife is like your husband!"
"Oh...." She dropped her gaze again, afraid that she had gone too far in revealing to him a too intimate part of her life.
Eric reached out, on impulse, his huge paw settling on her knee, gently. The smooth, nylon-clad flesh was warm to his hand, inviting him ... tantalizing him with its promise.
She looked up at him, startled, as his hand massaged the inner part of her knee and began to move upward an inch or so along the soft, smooth flesh of the inside of her thigh.
"Coach...! Mr. Field ... you're not thinking that ... that I'd ... I'd...." she gasped, at a loss for words, her legs clamping together, the big hand trapped between her thighs still trying to move upward toward her crotch.
"You're a very desirable woman, Susan, and I ... I want you ... I want to make love to you." he ground out, his breath coming hard, now.
"No! No, My God...! What would Dennis think ... your wife...? She wouldn't...."
Eric cut in, "You just said that Dennis wasn't giving ... taking you to bed ... often enough...."
"Yes ... but I couldn't do that ... You're his coach ... and a professor at Redfern ... and ... and we're both married...." The words came turnbling out of her, as she tried to find reasons to stop his advance toward her.
"But nobody'd ever have to know ... it'd be our secret ... our affair," he said.
Her large, dark eyes began to puddle into tears, "You ... make it sound so ... so simple," she said. "I ... we ... just can't go off somewhere ... and do it ... because we feel like it. There are so many other things ... to think about...."
He took his hand from between her thighs to dig a handkerchief from his pocket. He handed it to her, and she dabbed at her streaming eyes. She thanked him with a sob.
The burden of his sex bore down on him, overwhelmingly. He felt his prick straining at the confines of his trousers. It was standing up, painfully, throbbingly, alert. God! How this woman had aroused him. He wanted her, but he knew that it was impossible. It was broad daylight and time for the 1:20 P.E. class he was supposed to teach, today. Of course, he rationalized, his student assistant could start the class; moreover, it wouldn't make that much difference if he were late ... or even missed the class session, completely. The assistant was competent to carry out the assignment.
Time dragged by slowly, as they rode in silence for a few moments, then Eric, again, reached out his hand to her thigh. She shifted in the seat, and almost imperceptibly her legs spread for his hand as it gained the inside of her thigh and moved upward along the warm flesh to the heat of her crotch. Quickly, he made his decision. She was ready for it.
"You want it too ... don't you?" he said, making the question a statement of fact.
"No! No ... I can't ... I can't do that ... to Dennis...."
Her thighs closed on his hand, and he felt a slight thrust of her hips; a gentle, uncontrolled, grinding motion that belied her words, her body speaking the truth of her need.
"Can we go to your place, Susan?"
"No! Our landlady ... she's a real busybody , ... We can't go there ... do anything...." she said, her hips straining forward, even more.
He frowned, "Damn! We can't go back to my house, either! ... Anne's there."
Eric's hand was at the juncture of her thighs. He used his fingers, probing until he found the crease below the pubic mound and insinuated his middle finger. He pushed against her and found the bud of her womanhood under the thin wisp of nylon.
She gasped with pleasure. "Ooh ... please ... please don't, do that, Coach! I can't stand it....
Now, he was beginning to have second thoughts about the whole thing. He began to wonder if he might have gotten himself in too deep, already, as he thought about the bizarre situation. They were both aroused, sexually, and there seemed to be no immediate answer as to where they could go, together, to join themselves.
"Let's drive to Riverview ... check into a motel," he said.
Her eyes were glazed, passion-filled. "Too far ... take too long to get there," she murmured.
"All right, I know what we'll do," he said. "There's the parking lot behind the gymn...."
"Isn't that ... kind of risky...?"
"Yes," he agreed. "But it's farthest away from everything....We'll stay in the car."
He took his hand away from the warmth of her, as he drove onto the campus and threaded his way through the narrow streets to the student parking lot hidden behind the huge gymnasium building. Classes had already convened. No cars moved in the parking area. There were no pedestrians. Eric parked the car near the center of the lot, turned ofl the ignition and reached for her.
Susan came readily, eagerly, into his arms, lifting her lips to him willingly, and moving as close to him as the bucket seats of the small car would allow.
Their lips met, and her tongue came probing into his mouth, wetly, seeking him. He was pleasantly surprised by her wanton search of his oral cavity, her lingual member hotly slithering into all its crevices. He felt the urgency in her and thrust his own tongue forward to joust, momentarily with hers, before giving her just the tip of it. She, instantly, voraciously, sucked on his tongue, pulling it deeply into her warm, hungry mouth.
Meanwhile, his hands were busy upon her body. He found her breasts, to his delight, were completely unrestrained. She wore no bra under her thin dress. The swell of her thigh was firm and long-tapering, sheathed in nylon from waist to toe, and he reveled in the wonderful womanliness of her. His strong hands explored all her curves, massaging her, roughly, molding and kneading her, and her breath came fast into his mouth.
Finally, he broke the kiss, saying, huskily, "I just realized ... this damned car is too small! ... We can't do anything in here!"
She smiled up at him shyly, her face framed by her long, dark-brown hair, not knowing how to say the thing she wanted to say, yet knowing that it must be said, somehow, if they were to finish what had been started.
"We ... we could ... take turns ... doing each other...." she said, her voice a bare murmur.
Then, her dark eyes saw it-the throbbing bulge at his crotch-revealing his desire for her. She reached out to him, her trim hand trembling, slightly, as she rested it, momentarily on his knee, then dragged her fingers with a slithering motion up the inside of his thigh, feather-touching his hardened penis. As she withdrew her hand his prick jerked up hard, and he could feel the moistness at the tip of it. She smiled up into his eyes, laying her hand gently on his huge bicep, she squeezed, meaningfully, and finished. "If you know ... what I mean?"
"I know what you mean ... but do you really want to do it?" he asked her.
"It's one thing we can ... do, almost anywhere...." she said, blushing ... thinking she might have been too forward.
"You don't have to do that, Susan...." he began.
"I want to ... we can't do it the right way ... here ... now."
"Maybe we could ... meet somewhere tonight...." he said.
She reflected, soberly, "I ... I don't know ... I couldn't ... but, maybe ... we could meet at the Gym. Dennis is going to the library to study, tonight ... he'll be there until it closes at ten...."
"O.K." he said. "How about nine o'clock ... here at the gymn?"
"I'll ... I'll see ... maybe...."
"East entrance ... where my office is ... I'll wait for you until nine thirty," he said.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the deserted and darkened Gymnasium was a ready-made, nighttime trysting place. He wondered that he had not thought of it before this.
He took her, again, in his muscular arms and kissed her with passionate fury. She stopped him for a moment, her eyes smoky and lust-glazed, as she lifted her hips, raised her dress high and reaching down, slid the panty-hose down over her swelling thighs, exposing the olive-toned nakedness of her buttocks to him; then, she slid down into the seat moving her pelvis up and forward.
Eric's big hand went, unerringly down between her legs, to her pubic mound, the black, curling hair tingling in his palm. As his finger found the erect bud of her clitoris, she moaned with sensual pleasure, her hips beginning to rotate sensuously and snake-like up against his hand.
He put his arm behind her and levered her forward while he unzipped the back of her dress. Inserting his arm inside the dress, he put his arm around her and captured a full naked breast in his hand. She leaned back against him, as he began to massage the smooth flesh mounding under his fingers, grasping the nipple between thumb and forefinger, he urged it to stiff erectness.
"Oh," she said. "Your hands ... are like ... electric needles on me...."
"MMMmmmmnnn, nice...." he said.
The moistness of her furrow, now, told him that she was stimulated, ready, and he inserted two fingers in her cunt, moving them in slowly, spreading her to receive them, feeling the soft resiliency of the inner lining of her vaginal walls. He leaned over and kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her throat, stiffly. She took it, sucked it deeply into her mouth, making tiny mewling sounds in her throat.
Abruptly, she broke away from him, looking up into his face with half-closed, glazing eyes. She reached out to him, placing her hand behind his heavily muscled neck and gently drew his head downward to her loins. Her silent but eloquent message sent a thrill through him, spearing into his loins and making his cock pulsate, jerkingly, inside his pants. He was aware of a good deal of moisture on the head of his prick and that it was soaking through the cloth of his trousers.
He removed his arm from around her, inside her dress, and she leaned far back into the comer of the seat, spreading her legs widely for him, as his great head was lowered to her soft, darkly, hair-lined pussy.
His tongue slid out to her, touching her clitoris, the damp warmth of the quiveringly erect mystery of her driving him on. He made circles with his tongue, feeling it grow even more erect, pulsing under his lips. Then, he stroked up and down on the short length of it, as her hips ground in circles, thrusting up into his face with urgent demands.
The pungent taste of her spurred him onward. He took the bud in his lips, drawing the erectile tissue into his mouth to suck upon it. Then, he bared his teeth and gave the tiny phallus of her womanness a playful little nip.
Susan almost exploded under him, as she groaned out her pleasure. "Ooooooh God," he heard her moan as his tongue moved on her like heat lightning, igniting lascivious fires of passion in her.
Eric strained forward in the confines of the car, reaching out with his tongue to probe into the narrow slit of her pussy. His tongue went into her, and he began to move it in and out, flicking it from his mouth to the rhythm she had already set in her wildly gyrating pelvis.
She began to move faster. He went back to her clitoris and licked her, furiously, as she arched up at him, grinding her open cunt with wild abandon into his face.
She felt his tongue, alive on her, moving up and down her furrow, lashing at her clitoris, accellerating her on, moving her upward, where she soared with the ecstasy of her passion to the heights, and there was a great rushing, whistling wind in her ears, as great, explosive spasms of orgasmic relief wracked her body. She gasped and moaned out her delight, wanting him to go on and on.
Her body arched off the seat in a final spasm of climax and collapsed in final release as wave after wave of relaxing euphoria overcame her.
"Oh, darling ... darling ... it's wonderful...." she said, as she ran her fingers languidly through his short bristly hair.
Leaning back in the seat, she closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of her sensations. Eric's head was in her lap, her naked thighs and buttocks exposed, and he gently rubbed his hand along the silky smoothness of her, waiting for her, allowing her to luxuriate for a few moments ... until she would be ready to manipulate him to sexual release.
She stirred, finally, in a few moments', and Eric raised himself to a sitting position. Her delicate hand reached out to his zippered fly. He heard the metallic whisper of it as she opened his trousers, dipped in a cool hand and liberated his throbbing penis, bringing it out into the car with them.
Susan Drake leaned over him, slithering her body around in the seat until her head was directly over his cock. With one hand she grasped the shaft of it, her hand barely able to wrap completely around its circumference. Slowly, she pulled the foreskin back to reveal the purplish-red cowl of the glans from which a trickle of the viscous preparatory juices ran. She scratched her fingernails lightly over the length of it, as the great rod strained upward, pointing at her, and Eric could feel the hot moistness of her breath flowing over the smooth rubbery head.
Anne! Her name suddenly ran through his mind.
Oh, My God! What am I doing? I'm a married man ... I can't be doing things like this ... even if Anne did turn me off! I don't have the right, to ... to go around picking up girls ... other men's wives, like this. Anyway, I must be off my rocker to be doing something like this ... in broad daylight ... in a parking lot. If somebody saw us ... blew the whistle on me ... I'd get fired, damned fast! I could ... lose my job ... and my wife!
He swallowed deeply; his decision had been made. He was too far along, and there was no stopping, now. He trembled with an emotion he had never before experienced. This was new to him, even though he knew what was coming, he didn't know what to expect from it, until he felt her lips encircle the entire head of his cock, absorbing it into the warm, wet confines of her mouth. The keening sensation knifed through him, his whole body vibrating with the lewd sensuality of it. Her warm, moist mouth on the sensitive, pulsing head of his prick was like nothing he had ever imagined.
Then she began to suck on his cock with slow, rhythmic movements, her tongue moving in swirls around the head of it while her head began a slow up and down bobbing with a slight twist on each up stroke.
Eric looked down to watch her, and the sensations she was producing in him were trebled, as he saw how much of his hard fleshy rod she was taking into her delicately modeled mouth. She was mewling softly and taking almost all of his massive cudgel into her oral cavity, as her head bobbed sensuously up and down over his hairy loins. He began to move his hips in instictive opposition to her, and was further amazed when all of his lust-hardened cock seemed to disappear into her ovaled lips.
She began to suck harder, now, using her teeth, allowing them to scrape along the length of his hardened flesh, leaving white marks in the skin where she bit into it with gentle nips.
Her tongue was alive and busy in her mouth; its nerve-tingling lick on the outstroke was making the head of his member throb and jerk, signaling him of his rising passion. It felt like an urge to urinate, but the damming action of the tumescent flesh held the seminal flow in check until it would be time. He could feel the beginnings of it deep in his loins, his testicles drawn up below ready to discharge their waiting load of semen ... a load that should have been destined for Anne . i .
Reaching out a hand to her, he tangled his fingers in her hair, feeling that he should help her to set the pace. He watched, fascinated, as he saw the flesh of her lips being pulled in and out, and he marveled at her knowledge, her technique, knowing, instinctively, that she had performed this sexjact'before ... probably with her husband, Dennis Drake.
Now, he began to move more rapidly, jerking his hips up into her face, ramming his member without mercy into her mouth, as he felt the surge within him and his cock seemed to grow even larger in her mouth. She kept pace with him, never missing a beat.
Eric knew he was near the zenith, now. He could feel the dammed-up pressure of it beginning to reach the point-of-no-return, and suddenly the dam broke.
He gasped, "Susan ... ' Susan, Baby ... I'm just about ready!"
The spewing semen came in a rush, jetting into her mouth in great spurts of viscous, white jets of thickly hot fluid. She swallowed and kept swallowing, as wave after wave of it was siphoned from him.
"AAaaagh! I'm comming! Don't stop ... don't; stop sucking!" he gasped out at her, ramming her; head down farther onto his jerking prick, his hips bucking up at her, wildly.
She went on sucking, her lips hollowing in and out, as he continued spewing his load into her mouth, his rod plunging up at her, mercilessly, its entire length buried in her throat. He felt as though he had been turned inside out, the drawing sensation seeming to start in his bowels. Then, as his prick continued with smaller and smaller pumping spasms, she went on, gently, nibbling and licking the last drops of the white liquid sperm from his moisture glistening maleness.
The big man groaned out his satisfaction, leaning back into the car seat, his eyes closed, as he savored the effects of his orgasm. Gradually, his member began to deflate in her mouth, its detumescence beginning to make it flaccid and limber, again.
Neither of them was aware of the soft click of the camera shutter outside the car, nor did they observe the hasty retreat of the man who had stood watching them for several moments before he adjusted the camera, raised it to his eye, focusing carefully on the couple inside the car and captured the erotic scene, forever, on super-fast film. There had been no flash to give away the presence of the unknown photographer.
Susan released his slowly deflating prick, allowing it to pull from her mouth, as she rolled her head to one side on his knees. She continued to look at it in fascination, almost hypnotized by the deflating action. Finally, she looked up at Eric, emitting a sigh and raising her lips to him for a kiss.
Eric took her in his arms and kissed her full on the mouth, inserting his tongue to taste the essence of himself still remaining somewhat pungent in her mouth.
Finally, she broke the kiss, "Did you like it, Lover?"
"MMmmm! I think you turned me inside out!"
"Just wait until tonight...." she promised, "I don't think I'll be able to wait . ." he said, as he reached for her again.
* * *
After Eric had let Susan out of the car at the Student Union building he drove back to the gym, parked in his assigned place and went into his office. The feeling of complete satisfaction and euphoria had relaxed the tensions in him. He sat for a while, enjoying the memory of her as she labored over him; then, the anticipation of what was to come the forthcoming evening began to excite him, anew.
He decided he had better get some work done. There was a memo on his desk from the student assistant; the afternoon class had gone well without his presence, and he was thankful for the competence of the young man.
Then, he plunged into the plans for the afternoon practice session of the Rams. There were a couple of new plays he wanted to work out, and there was still a problem or two with the defensive line that had to be solved.
When the four o'clock practice began, Eric was the first one on the field to check over the equipment, personally, to make sure that everything was ready.
He tried out the new plays in scrimmage, but the problem with the right guard was still not solved, unfortunately. He decided that he would have to take the drastic way out; the man would have to be taken out of the first string. There was an up and coming sophomore who could fill the position quite competently.
The Coach's conscience bothered him not a little when he saw Dennis Drake. He explainably avoided direct, personal contact with the quarterback; he was not sure how he would or should act.
Dennis worked hard, and Eric was proud of him ... proud of the way he handled the ball and himself. He was an aggressive player who exuded self-confidence, and the Coach saw in him many of the same qualities he, himself, had displayed when he was playing college football and, later, professional ball with the Packers. Although, Eric had never played quarterback, he appreciated the qualities that produced great backfield men. Eric had played end, and had been the receiver of many touchdown passes from men like Dennis Drake of the Redfern Rams.
It was while they were trying out the second of Eric's new plays that Dennis spoke up.
"Coach, this play won't work! There's not enough cover for the passer."
"I know that, Dennis," Eric said. "But I'm thinking that it'll take 'em by surprise. Nobody's used anything like this for quite a while."
Dennis persisted, "It'll be good for only one time! Soon's they see what we're doing, they'll smear it the next time we use the play."
"Well, I'd like to try it, anyway. Let's run it through!" the Coach said, decisively.
Dennis returned to his backfield position to run the play several more times. Eric had to admit, reluctantly, that Dennis had figured the play, correctly, because more than half the time, the scrubs could come blasting through the line to catch the quarterback behind the line of scrimmage, dumping him for a loss of yardage.
At the end of the practice session, Eric told the players in the fading light that the new play-designated Z-23-didn't seem to be working right, but that he had decided to keep it in reserve. "There might be a time when such a play would be valuable," he told them.
He was not surprised to hear some grumbling about it, but he was used to that sort of thing. Football players always seemed to complain about something. He told himself that it was a truism: If they didn't have something to complain about, they'd make up something so he promptly dismissed it from his mind.
Eric was surprised to see the well-dressed, short but powerfully built and ruggedly handsome man standing near the exit gate to the practice field. It was Dr. Meaders, President of Redfern College, his familiar black Continental parked nearby. Only rarely was Dr. Meaders ever seen on or near the football practice field, and Eric was glad that he had appeared. It would be a good morale builder for the team.
As the players jogged toward the gate, heading for the locker rooms and hot showers, Dr. Meaders stepped through it and to one side, strolling, importantly, out on the field toward Eric, and snapping a few cheery greetings to the players as they passed him.
"Good evening, Coach. These boys are looking mighty fine out here, tonight," Dr. Meaders said in greeting.
"Thank you, Sir ... I'm pleased with them, too." Eric said.
The college president fell in beside Eric, walking with him toward the gate. He asked, chattily, "Will our upcoming game with Cal State be a tough one?"
"Cal certainly has a fine ball club ... we'll have to work hard to win this one, I'm afraid," Eric told him.
Dr. Meaders' face broke into a wide grin. He said, "Eric, that's coach's talk. Now, tell me what you think."
"We'll win," Eric said, simply. "Good boy!"
The two men walked in silence for a moment. They reached the gate, and Eric stepped aside, deferentially, as Dr. Meaders went through it. The President turned to Eric.
"Coach, I want you and your lovely wife to come up to our place after the game on Saturday. We're having a little get together ... a few cocktails ... sort of a victory celebration." .
"Thank you, Dr. Meaders. I'd be glad to come," he said. Then, as an afterthought, "Would you like to say a few words to the team in the locker room...?"
Dr. Meaders was climbing into his car. He closed the door, rolled down the window and said, "I'd like to very much, but I have to attend a board meeting, tonight. Thank you, Coach ... for asking me."
Eric was disappointed, but he said, "Certainly, sir ... maybe another time...?"
"Yes. We'll look forward to it. Goodnight, Coach."
"Good night, Dr. Meaders," Eric said, turning away as the college president drove, rapidly, toward the service entrance.
The Redfern Rams' coach walked toward the gym, reflecting on the President's invitation to a cocktail party at the Residence. Eric had never been invited there, before, on a social basis, and he wondered what the reason might be, now.
Maybe, Eric Field is coming up in the world!
CHAPTER THREE
Anne Field roused herself from her disturbing sleep, her mind in turmoil, her body satiated. Stretching her muscles, languidly, she tried to remember what it was she had to do on this Thursday afternoon. She glanced at the clock, noting that it was almost two o'clock. Two o'clock! Suddenly she remembered: This was the day she had been invited to an afternoon tea at the Residence. Mrs. Meaders, wife of Redfern's president had invited her there, personally, and Anne felt rather pleased about it. An invitation to the Residence practically assured you that you were now accepted as an important part of the Redfern College Family.
Quickly but carefully, Anne dressed, arranged her hair, made up her face, donned chic hat, pulled on gloves and walked the few blocks to the Official Residence, a large Victorian mansion, set far back on a tree-shaded estate. She had arrived a few moments late, but she hoped that she would not be the last arrival. She had been given to understand that all functions at the Residence always began on time.
A little breathless from her brisk walk, Anne rang the bell, nervously, standing on the broad, columned portico and noting that there were several cars parked in the circular driveway. There was no sign of other late arrivals and the sinking feeling in her, as the door swung open, almost made her want to bolt. It was too late to run, now.
Nora Meaders stood framed in the doorway, a radiant smile on her lips, her beautiful, almond-shaped eyes accented, tastefully, dominated a doll-like face. She was shorter than Anne, perfectly proportioned, and she stood with the animal grace of a dancer, moving toward Anne to an inner rhythm of her own, her body under complete control, projecting an image of the completely realized woman, fulfilled, self-confident and ecstatically enthralled with life. She spoke with a warm, throaty, softly modulated voice, her accent not quite recognizable, but her English was cultured and correct.
"Do come in, my dear Mrs. Field ... you look lovely, Anne. May I call you Anne...? Everyone calls me Nora...."
Anne murmured, "Yes ... thank you, Mrs. Meaders ... Nora...."
Nora steered her expertly among the women, introducing her graciously to those whom she did not know; finally, leaving her at the beautifully decorated tea table, where Anne chose to drink coffee along with some excellent, small sandwiches. The effect of the gleaming silver service, the exquisite decorations and the superb food and drink made her more than a little envious.
The inane chatter and gossip of the women annoyed her, but she was soon caught up in it, listening to them, as they bared their claws, cutting people to shreds with tidbits of rumor and gossip. She refused to indulge in the character assasination, preferring, if she must be present, to content herself with a few interjections of dismay or doubt.
Anne knew that she did not belong to, or enter into a group, such as this, willingly, and she was less than vivacious. It was a game ... a game that you played with only one goal in mind: That goal was advancement in the college hierarchy. The wives were a part of the team: so, here she was-Eric's distaff representative-trying to score, socially, in order to assure his steady advancement.
Some of the women began to leave about three-thirty, and Anne noted that the maid, who had served them, had left the house in some agitation, as she walked along the drive leaving the Residence. That meant that Nora Meaders would be left to clean up after the tea by herself. Anne resolved that she would stay and help.
She hung back, so that she would be the last woman to leave. Anne asked Nora Meaders, shyly, "Mrs. Meaders ... Nora ... I noticed that your maid left early. Can I help you to get things straightened up...?"
Nora smiled brightly at her, "My dear, you are a godsend. I would welcome your help."
The two women, working closely together, made short work of the various chores. Soon, the two of them were chatting like old friends, as they performed the domestic tasks, and by four-thirty everything was finished.
Mrs. Meaders, grateful for the help Anne had given her, suggested a drink, as they left the kitchen.
"I'm dying for a drink," Nora said. "Won't you join me Anne?"
Alcohol had been another of the taboos of her growing-up years, but Anne had conceded to Eric that, since it was a part of the social picture, she might as well go along with the act ... drink a social drink, when it seemed necessary; however, she did not like the taste of the stuff, nor its effect upon her mind and body.
"Yes ... a small one," Anne said.
Nora poured from a chilled pitcher, the clear liquid cascading into the stemmed glasses with a refreshing fragrance.
Anne knew that she was able to handle one martini very well, but against her better judgement, and Nora's insistent urging finally breaking her resistance, she accepted a second.
She found that Nora was a warm listener, as the alcohol loosened her inhibited feeling and she began to pour out her soul to the older woman. Nora listened with sympathy while Anne told of her fears and frustrations concerning her sex-life with Eric.
"You poor dear," Nora said with some animation. "You haven't learned yet that sex ... isn't a one-sided game. We women can enjoy it, too! You have to let yourself go ... relax ... and do anything you want to do ... anything that brings you both pleasure ... and orgasm...."
Nora's eyes were bright, excited, and she warmed to her topic, as Anne made objections, saying, "But, those ... those horrible things ... he wants me to do ... They're dirty ... nasty ... perverted ... and I...."
"Really, Anne! I'm amazed ... surprised that you don't know ... These are the very things that make it so good ... for both partners. Believe me ... there is nothing wrong with them, as long as you both end up having a real sexual experience. Conrad ... Dr. Meaders and I constantly experiment ... attempting to discover those eroticisms agreeable to both of us...."
The conversation went on longer than Anne had been prepared for, the older woman explaining, naming and describing in detail, positions and techniques of erotic pleasure, and she felt her cheeks flame as the list grew. It seemed to her that each new category was more depraved than the last, until, finally, her mind was spinning, not only from the effects of the alcohol, but also, from the sheer effort of trying to understand Nora's dissertation and her liberal attitudes toward them.
Finally, in desperation, Anne pleaded a headache and the late hour, reminding Mrs. Meaders that she would have to hurry home to prepare dinner for Eric.
Nora had finished her third martini, but Anne had had the good sense to limit herself to two of the potent drinks. As it was, Nora was beginning to slur her words, and her genteel vocabulary became salted with more than a few lewd references. Gradually, Anne began to see another side of Nora Meaders, wife of Redfern College President, Dr. Conrad Meaders: It was the shocking realization that the woman underneath the veneer was somewhat lewd, salacious; sometimes vulgar, but not, she conceded, coarse. Vaguely, she began to wonder what the older woman's background might be, and how it was that she was married to the distinguished Dr. Meaders. It would be very interesting to know those things, she thought.
Holding the door for Anne as she left, Nora's face was flushed slightly, and her speech was fuzzy. She issued an invitation to Anne ... and Eric.
"You and your handsome husband will have to come over some evening ... help us put away a few drinks, 'n have ourselves a real evening of fun ... and games...."
"Thank you, Nora ... we'll do that," Anne assured her. "Whenever you want us ... just set the day and time...."
"I know," Nora said, smiling a lewd little smile. "Perhaps you would enjoy ... a practical demonstration ... on the art of keeping husbands happy ... eh?"
Anne walked home, slowly, a little unsteady on her feet, her head in a whirl and a confusing welter of conflicting thoughts rushing, crazily, through her mind.
What did Nora mean by that last remark? I just can't believe all those things Nora is saying ... Why they're so horribly nasty ... I'm ashamed to even think about them ... All those things that Eric's alwasys wanting ... to do to me, or that he wants me to do to him! They're sinful ... just downright perverted ... but Nora says that most people do those things ... and enjoy them! And. she's even trying to make me believe that I ... I could ... learn ... to do them ... and like it ... because doing them feels so good! I don't see how I could ever, ever bring myself to ... to do even one of those awful sex acts ... Ugh! My God! Why does sex have to be so ... so filthy!
When Eric came home for dinner, Anne greeted him with a warm kiss and a making-up apology for their noon-time fiasco, but she was confused, again, by his apparent lack of concern over the matter, as he shrugged it off so lightly.
"Don't feel bad about it, Anne ... it's just one of those things. We'll be able to work it out," he told her.
She began to look forward to their evening together, vowing to herself that she would try ... try hard to be a better wife to Eric in bed. She had been thinking more about some of the things Nora had said that afternoon, and had decided that it wouldn't hurt to experiment a little. Maybe ... she'd even consent, tonight, to trying out one of those far-out erotic positions Nora had described in some detail.
Her hopes were short-lived, when after having eaten his dinner, read the newspaper and grumped around the house for an hour, Eric told her that he had some work to do in his office and would be working quite late.
He said, as he left the house, "Don't wait up for me, Anne ... I've got quite a lot of unfinished business to ... take care of ... tonight."
* * *
Dr. Conrad Meaders arrived home at ten o'clock that same evening, having attended a hum-drum, ho-hum board of trustees meeting. He parked his Continental in the three-car garage and went directly to his own bedroom on the second floor of the Residence, where he undressed, quickly, to his jockey shorts, going directly to the dark-room he had had built across the hall.
Meaders prided himself in the fact that his photographic equipment was the best that money could buy, and that he knew how to use it to produce professional results. He set to work efficiently in the well laid out laboratory.
In a short while, he was grunting his satisfaction, as he looked at the 8x10 print he had just exposed and developed. The print lay in the developing solution, the image slowly materializing on the coated surface of the paper. There was a knock on the door.
"Conrad ... are you in there?" Nora called softly.
"Yes, my dear ... just a moment...."
The print was fully developed, now, and he used the tongs to transfer it to the stop bath, where, after ten seconds, the developing action stopped, and he could transfer it to the fixer; whereupon, he turned on the light and opened the door to admit his wife.
Nora was carrying two martini glasses, brimming full, and Conrad gratefully accepted one from her along with a sensual kiss. He could smell the alcohol on her breath and knew that she had a head start on him.
"Thank you, my dear ... this is exactly what I needed," he said, looking over her trim figure. She was clad in tight-tight, iridescent green pants and matching toreador blouse, cut low and revealing, the cleavage fully exposed and the upper surfaces of her upthrusting breasts swelling out provocatively. There was no panty leg seam line showing under the skintight pants, and he guessed that she would have no bra on underneath the blouse.
He sipped appreciatively at the martini, as he gazed at her, a slight appreciative leer beginning to form around his mouth.
"Is the martini all right?" she asked. "Dry enough...?"
"Perfect ... and so are you." He reached out a hand to her and cupped a breast in his strong, stubby fingers. It was as he suspected: There was no bra under the blouse. He was elated.
"How do you like this, Conrad...? It's new...." She pulled away from him and modeled the ensemble, striking an obscene pose at the end of the demonstration, her hips pulled forward, her arms back, causing her breasts to strain for release from her blouse. Then she undulated her hips, sensually, suggestively, performing a sexually exciting dance just for him.
His eyes were lustful, "God! Do I like it?! Do you want to try me ... right here on the floor of the dark-room?"
"All right ... I'll stop. If I have to have it on the floor ... I really do prefer my bedroom floor. It has a nice, fluffy rug on it...." she teased.
Nora took a sip from her martini, and the print in the fixer tray caught her eye. "What do you have here?" she asked him.
"I shot that, today," he said. It turned out all right, too ... I'm pleased with it...."
She picked up the print with the tongs and examined it carefully, "Yes, Conrad ... this is excellent ... Who is the girl?"
"She's a hot little piece ... a student. Her name is Susan Drake, wife of Redfern's star quarterback ... Dennis Drake," he recited.
"MMMmmm ... and just look at the beautiful plaything she has ... in her mouth! Isn't that the coach ... Eric Field?" she asked, a salacious smile on her lips.
"Yes, it is ... all of him...."
Nora took another long look at the photograph, "Yes ... yes, I think you're right ... he's well endowed, to say the least...."
Conrad looked at his wife, shrewdly, "Do you like that?" he asked her.
"Quite frankly, yes ... I do like what I see," she said, levelly.
"I thought you would," he said. "Would you like to have it?"
"It would be ... marvelous!" she exclaimed.
"All right ... he's yours, Saturday night. I've invited them for cocktails, after the game." he bargained.
She wasn't surprised, but she said, "Them...?"
"Yes ... him and his wife ... Anne."
"Oh, yes ... I'd almost forgotten ... the sweet, little, frigid wife...." she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"She's mine!"
"You've made a bargain," she said, taking another long look at the picture and replacing it in the fixer.
"Meanwhile, I'll go replenish these little muthers."
Nora took his now empty glass from him and left the photo lab, swishing her hips at him, provocatively, as she passed him. "Don't leave me, lover ... I've a little surprise for you...."
He gave her a playful slap on the bottom, giving the firm flesh a pinch for good measure, he said, "You had better make those doubles ... I'm beginning to J feel like a nice, long party coming on, tonight."
When she was gone, he printed the other pictures on the roll, cleaned up the lab and went across the hall to shower, returning afterward in his dressing robe to put the prints in the washer. He would take care of the rest of the process the following morning. Conrad Meaders, Ph.D., eyed his handiwork with pride. Then, he told himself that he was still one of the best damned photographers in the business!
* * *
Conrad went across and down the hall to his wife's bedroom. She was not there. She was not in his bedroom or the connecting bath between them. He knew for sure that she wasn't in the photo lab, so he checked the guest room next to it.
"Damn!" he said, good naturedly. "She's playing games, again."
This is what kept life interesting, exciting and adventurous. He never knew where Nora would choose to have sexual intercourse with him. Part of the game was that they would join wherever it was that he found her.
In the end it was his ears that led him to her. She was in the game-room and bar, and she had put a record on the stereo-a sensuous dance of North Africa-a belly dance.
As he entered the game room, the lights were low and inviting, and he didn't see Nora at once. After his eyes had become adjusted to the dimness, he saw her. She was entwined with the cigar store Indian statue that was part of the decor of the game-room, and she was doing a slow, lascivious dance, rubbing her female loins, obscenely, against the wood of the statue.
"Ah, there you are!" he said.
"The martinis are on the bar, Dear ... pour us a couple of them ... will you?" her voice was low and throaty.
He went to the bar and poured the fresh drinks, taking a stool to watch his wife's entertainment.
She knew that she had his full attention, now, and she grabbed a large, diaphanous scarf, kicked off her slippers and leaped to the top of the billiard table where she threw herself with abandon into an authentic Egyptian belly dance, her hips moving in circles and the muscles of her belly rippling and undulating in time to the savage rhythms.
Meaders watched his wife with fascination. She was a superb dancer, and he marveled at her muscular control, the sensuousness of her movements and her projected sexuality that never failed to arouse him.
He felt the familiar crawling, tensing sensation in his scrotum and the rush of throbbingly hot blood into his penis, as it began to rise to erection under the dressing robe. He wanted to throw off the robe, grab her and lay her on the billiard table, but he had found long ago that it was better to play her game. When she was ready ... he could take her any way he wanted, however, he must wait for her, and he had learned to wait ... to reap the benefits of the waiting in heightened enjoyment ... for both of them.
The dance ended, and Nora Meaders slid gracefully from the felt-topped table, casting aside the scarf, she regained her slippers and came to him. Insinuating her lithe hips between his legs, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him, long, hard and deep, using her tongue to probe and titillate. After some moments, she broke the kiss and trailed her tongue across his heavy jowls to his ear. Her tongue lashed out, the tip of it drilling into his ear and running in little circles around it.
She whispered, "I love you, Conrad."
He set his drink down on the bar and reached for her, grabbing a churning buttock in either hand, he pulled her, roughly, to his hardening prick, letting her feel the warmth and stiffness of him.
"God! Nora ... you're tantalizing as hell, tonight ... and I love you for every minute of it!"
Nora twisted from his grasp and twirled across the floor to a lilting waltz from the hi-fi; then, as she came flying back, using a barstool to glide to the bar top, where she continued her dance for a few moments, before sinking slowly to her knees; finally, she lay prone, posing prettily, upon the bar top.
"Hand me my drink, now, Dear ... I'm getting tired...."
He handed her the martini. She drank from it, her lovely dark eyes smoldering, smokily, at him over the brim of her glass. She smiled a sly, little provocative smile at him. .
"I have an exciting surprise for you, Conrad," she said, with throaty sexiness.
Meaders feigned disinterest, "Oh...."
"Yes," she said. "We're going to do it without ... taking my pants off!"
"Holy Christ! Am I supposed to drill holes in them?"
With a mysterious smile she rolled to her stomach on the bar, sipping, again, from her martini.
She said, "You'll have to find out the secret...."
Conrad drained his glass and set it down at the far end of the bar. He came off the barstool and kicked it away from him, as he came to her to run a hand along the smooth contours of her back and bottom. His cock was rock-hard, throbbingly alert and ready, and he tried to slip his hand under the elastic waistband of her tight-tight pants.
"Ah, ah ... that isn't fair! Remember ... my pants stay on, tonight," she told him teasingly, as she rolled over onto her back.
He leaned over her and kissed her hard with his lips and tongue, thrusting deeply into her mouth, sucking the sweet nectar of her. His hands were busy with the buttons of her blouse, and the magnificent mounds of firm, full flesh came bursting from their confinement, proudly peaked when he had unbuttoned the last button. Quickly, he glued his mouth to one nipple, sucking and nipping it to erection, causing her to mewl in throaty pleasure, as he massaged the other breast with his hand, kneading the silky, smoothness of them and teasing the pink-hued nipple between his thumb and finger.
Now, his hand left her breast, and went in search of other things, down across her belly, smoothing ' down the swell of her gently rounded hip and back to the inside of her thigh to the soft, inner juncture, where he allowed his hand to roam around the fleecy softness of her gently squirming pubic mound. Then, his hand dipped between her thighs, as she parted them for him, allowing him full access to the tight, elastic nether ring of her pussy. He insinuated his ' middle finger into the crease, forcing the cloth of her pants into the moist, vaginal opening.
And then, suddenly, he knew the solution: It was related to the Egyptian belly dance she had performed ... and to the costume that the dancers use for it.
Conrad broke the kiss, went around to the end of the bar, grabbed his wife by the ankles and heaved her toward him until her buttocks were even with the edge of the bar. He raised her legs straight up, then spread them to either side in a vee-shape.
"There! Now, hold that pose, My Dear ... Old Doctor Meaders will now operate...."
Nora raised her head up to peer at him through the Vee of her legs, "Have you found the solution ... so soon?" she asked him, smiling lewdly ... expectantly.
He was busy searching the crotch seam of her pants in the dim light. In a few moments he found it-a long, loose thread. He grasped the thread firmly and gave it a hard yank, ripping the thread from the entire seam, smoothly, suddenly, exposing her warm, slightly throbbing cunt to him, its darkly hair-lined slit staring up at him with moist, viscous droplets of libidinous liquid glistening along the furrow.
Meaders' head came down, and he clamped his lips to her pussy, his tongue coming out to find the warm lips of her womanhood, as Nora moaned in ecstatic pleasure above him. He probed into the vaginal canal, tasting the pungency of her, and the moisture of his mouth mingled with the love droplets she emitted there.
The sensations he generated in her loins raced through her like heat lightning. His tongue seared her with its snake-like searchings, and she moved her pelvis upward to his face, draping her legs over his shoulders to afford her more comfort, her husband easier access to the searing seat of her passion. She was overjoyed. It had worked just as she had planned it. It was marvelous!
Conrad licked and sucked, his tongue lashing up and down the slit, making plunging forays into the moist channel; finally, discovering the clitoris rising from its soft, hair-lined slit, erupting into hardened erection, pulsating warmly, as his tongue circled it, tantalizingly. Then, he concentrated on the tip of it, teasing it, tantalizing it, urging it on to even greater sensation producing, nerve-tingling sexuality.
She reached for his head, grasping the short, bristly scruff and pulled him in closer to her, moving her hips in circles under his insistent mouth and tongue, opening her thighs to him, wantonly, invitingly urging him on to greater enhancement and more inventive manipulation of his tongue in her cunt.
He had just begun to think that he could wait no longer to bury his throbbing cock in her, when he felt her move under him, trying to sit up, as she pushed his head away from her.
"It's time, Conrad. Now! I want you to take me...! Fuck me to death with that marvelous cock of yours!" she hissed at him, the words coming as naturally to her as the act itself.
Nora began to slide from the end of the bar. He helped her down with his muscular arms, and she moved quickly to one of the barstools, sat upon it and leaned back, spreading her legs for him, and holding out her arms to him, invitingly.
"We've not tried it on a barstool ... yet. Come ... let's!" she said, smiling radiantly at him.
He came to her and stood between her legs, removing the dressing robe to fling it behind him, as she reached down to him, taking his huge cock in her i hands, retracting the foreskin smoothly and guiding the red, hooded knob of it to the cunt-lips below, and he came into her with a rush, the head entering her vaginal hole with a wetly sliding action, the thick. shaft being absorbed entirely, as he thrust up into her with an animal-like lunge.
"OOOooooh Darling!" she groaned as his great weapon was buried in her soft femaleness, the hardness of it ramming into her, deeply ... to the very core of her being.
The moist heat of her captured him, enveloped him, as he went into her, the exquisite folds of her channel clamping around him and he could feel the inner muscles of her vagina caressing his prick, milking it, the sensations torturing him, as he held the length of it in her, not moving yet ... and his whole being was there in his penis, inside her soft, smooth-walled passage.
Conrad began to fuck into her with short, quick thrusts, upward into her pussy, standing there, between her legs, using the strength of his back and powerful legs to ram his huge member home into her tender and softly clasping cunt.
"Faster! Longer! Deeper!" she gasped out to him.
His huge, blood-engorged cock began to drive deeper and longer into her, its breadth pulling the soft, ragged edge of her furrow out with it on each outstroke, revealing the moist, pink lining of her pussy; then, on the plunging instroke, all of it was rammed back into her again.
She could feel the giant staff of him rampaging into her generating her desire, and she could not get enough of him, as she incessantly urged him on with groans of pleasure, interspersed with her specific coughed out demands. Sometimes she chanted in rhythm of their thrashing bodies, her pelvis moving in opposititon to him, wildly, in uncontrolled passion.
Meaders ground into his wife, flexing his knees to gain more leverage and strength, as her buttocks squirmed, uncontrollably on the barstool, straining back at him, her pelvis arching upward to take all of his thick cock into her.
"More! More! Conrad ... give me more! Give me all ... all of that ... wonderful ... huge ... cock!" Nora demanded.
Then, she began to moan with abandon, in ceaseless agony of delayed orgasm, as his giant cudgel pounded straight into her. Finally, she realized that they needed to be in a different position, so that he could get all of his length into her. She needed it to be deep, hard and punishing to bring her to the climax she so desired.
Nora moaned in frustration, "Oh, I can't cum ... yet! Let's ... finish it ... on the billiard table...."
He pulled out of her and she slid from the barstool, moving quickly to the game table, sliding her hips over the edge to lie in the middle of the green-felted top, her legs spread in obscene invitation her cunt exposed through the ripped seam of her pants, and she beckoned to him urgently with her arms.
"Now, lover ... now! Fuck me like a whore!" she groaned, her eyes glazed with passion.
Meaders clambered to the table top and went straight into her again as she pulled her legs up, flexing them up to her chest, her breasts being smashed flat, when he came down on her, pinning her to the table like a butterfly specimen. He rammed his great prick all the way home in her pussy, his balls slapping against the tiny brown ring of her anus below.
"Oh, God! It's good ... Conrad! But ... I must have more! Use your finger ... in my ass! Make me scream! Make me cum!"
Her husband became all the more inflamed as she kept asking him, urging him and demanding of him, rising to meet his pistoning cock in her loins. He reached under her, lifting her buttocks, easily, driving his prick rhythmically into the moistness of her ever-demanding cunt. He found the crevice of her ass and stretched it wide with his hands, searching for that softly pliant nether ring. Now, he located it with his middle finger and lewdly slipped the tip of it into her wildly flexing rectum, working it in, gradually, until he felt the muscle ring give a little. He pushed harder and the elastic flesh of her anus relaxed, his finger going in to the first knuckle. He felt the shock of it in her body as she recoiled instinctively, screwing her buttocks down and back, away from that punishing digit in her backside.
She screamed, "Push it in ... all the way! Make it hurt!"
He jabbed his finger into her, all the way to the palm of his hand, reaching up into the sponginess of her rectum, burying it in her without mercy.
"OOOOOoooooooo! AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaggggghhhh! Oh, God! It hurts ... good!" she screamed.
His wife screwed her ass hack against his finger, and he moved it in her, swirling it around in the fleshy depths of her back passage. He could feel his prick through the thin wall of tissue separating her vagina from her anal passage, as his fat, hardened rod of flesh moved in and out of her. Now he began to move his finger in time to his cock, skewering her with both at the same time, and she moved her loins in opposition to him, taking both punishing instruments, reveling in the ecstatic pleasure-pain of the dual debauchment.
Nora mewled, gurgled, moaned and groaned with passion, the sounds coming from deep in her throat, interspersed with sharp gasps of pleasure or pain, as he pistoned, smoothly, in and out of her cunt and wildly clenching rectum simultaneously.
Conrad knew that she was nearing her climax, as she continued to mouth obscenities, driving him onward to greater effort, his own passion rising and spiraling toward the summit and a final thrusting, jabbing, spewing ejaculation. His cock became even harder and stiffer, growing to full blood-engorged erection, and he was painfully aware of the dammed up flood waiting to be released.
She was wild, delirious and uncontrolled as she came nearer and more near to her time ... that time of exquisite pleasure.
"Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fill my cunt! Fill my ass! Fuck hard! Fuck it! Fuck it ... fuckit ... fuckitfuckitfuckitfuckit ... Fuck!" she chanted in wild abandon, increasing the speed, demanding her orgasm, and she began the rushing, spiraling, giddy flight to the heights, where she felt as though she were a parachutist bailing out of a speeding airplane at fifteen thousand feet, and she was falling free ... spinning free in a fall through space, the earth rushing up to meet her in orgasm; then gently, the brightly-hued umbrella of the parachute exploded over her head and floated her gently back to earth. It was as in a dream that she heard herself.
As Nora screamed with the pleasure of her orgasm, Conrad was spurred on to his own. He was in her, moving faster and faster, longer and harder and his hardened cock was like a machine, the piston of him moving in her with short, powerful strokes. He felt the load begin in his balls, pumping through the length of his penis, spewing in jerking jets of white, viscous sperm far up into her cunt, while the spasms of pleasure shot through him in mind-shattering, body-reeling waves of sensuality. His cock continued , to jump, as he collapsed atop her with a huge groan of satiation.
"My God!" he groaned. "I'm still cumming ... I'm still cumming!"
Nora mumbled, "Marvelous ... just wonderful, Conrad. It's the nicest fuck we've had ... in a long time...."
"Anyway, since last night...." he rejoined, smiling weakly down at her satiated grin.
In a few moments he rolled from atop her, his now flaccid prick pulling from her with a liquid, sucking sound, trailing a string of semen, as he crawled lazily from the billiard table.
He went to the bar and poured two fresh martinis, bringing one to his wife, who, meanwhile, had slipped off the table and was now lying on the polar bearskin rug before the fireplace.
She lay languidly on the white fur, her head resting on the huge, stuffed head of he animal. She was grateful for the drink he brought her and for the cigarette he lighted and handed to her.
As he stretched out on the rug beside her, drink in hand, she said, "I forgot to tell you, dear ... I had a long talk with Anne Field, today...."
Meaders was immediately interested. "And what did your probing mind find out?"
She inhaled from her cigarette deeply before she answered, "You will never believe this ... but that ravishingly beautiful girl is frigid! She gets absolutely no thrill out of sex...."
"Very interesting development ... but she hasn't i had Old Doctor Meaders for a teacher ... yet," he I said leeringly, reaching out for his wife's pubic mound, still moist from the pleasant work of a few moments before.
Nora Meaders opened her thighs to his exploring fingers, at the same time taking a large swallow of her drink.
Then she said dreamily, sexily, "I don't imagine though that her husband, Eric ... has such a problem
... eh?"
"From what I saw today ... I'd say not...." he said. "But no one can match Old Doc ... can they?"
"No ... my darling Guru...." she said, giving him a lingering kiss.
His rummaging fingers had found the bud of her clitoris, and he pressed the button of her sex, the explosion of sensation in her causing her to clamp her thighs tightly together, clamping his hand closely! against her, heightening her pleasure. Then her pelvis began to move in tiny circles of fully re-awakening desire.
"Conrad," she said, her voice throaty and sex-laden. "My Mercedes is developing a horrible knocking sound ... and I was wondering...."
"Don't worry, my dear," he said. "Tomorrow, I have a conference with an extremely wealthy gentleman ... something about an endowment for Redfern ... and a Doctorate ... for himself."
"Another?" she asked. "Yes ... and willing. I think you might safely select the car you want...." he told her.
She had drained her glass and flung it from her I with a tinkling crash to the fireplace.
"Conrad ... you are a darling!" she squealed, as I she flung herself atop him, pinning his shaggy body
CHAPTER FOUR
Anne Field had waited up late for Eric. She had occupied herself with mending, read several magazine articles and watched the late show on television, but her husband had not returned by midnight. Finally,. weary and sick with worry, she had gone to bed; however, she could not sleep. Her mind churned her thoughts into a quagmire into which she sank in a blue funk, half-formed ideas floating by in the murkiness of her thoughts, only to sink from her awareness, to be followed by other specters of her imagination, until she was in a state bordering on hysteria.
In desperation, she had taken a sleeping pill that put her into a twilight sleep which made her only dimly aware of Eric's return, as he came softly into their bedroom, and it made her incapable of communicating with him coherently. Her sleep-drugged mind only knew that he was there and she could sleep peacefully now. Long before he had crawled into the big double bed beside her she was fast asleep. He did not try to awaken her.
* * *
Susan Drake's evening had been more exciting ... more fulfilling and adventurous. She and Eric had gone into the darkened, cavernous gymnasium where they had joined almost immediately, frantically, tearing at each other's clothing, exposing the softness and the hardness of flesh and blending them quickly in the headlong pursuit of their carnal desires.
The infinite variety of their later lovemaking left them both sexually satiated and tingling with delirious mental, emotional and physical exhaustion. Then they had slept nude upon the tumbling mats, pulled to the center of the huge playing floor, and when they had awakened it was already one-thirty in the morning.
"My God!" he exclaimed, looking at his wrist watch in the moon-glow filtered through the high windows. "It's one-thirty already!"
Susan crept closer into his arms, snuggling against him and reaching down between them to caress his flaccid cock, in an attempt to arouse him once more.
"Kiss me...." she murmured low and throatily.
Eric kissed her briefly with cool lips, breaking away from her after a moment to say worriedly, "Susan ... be serious ... we may be in big trouble! It's one-thirty in the morning ... and we're both married to somebody else...."
She said dreamily, "Oh ... I forgot ... I'm supposed to be at my mother's house tonight-she needed me. That's what I told Dennis. Actually, I'm going to my girl friend's house ... I've already arranged it with her ... so the time won't matter...."
"God! Why didn't you tell me sooner ... you had me worried," he said with some irritation.
Susan wanted more sex and would not be detoured from her goal. She rolled over on top of him and ground her pelvis down on him, forcing his limp prick to lie in the furrow of her hungry, insatiable cunt while she moved her hips lewdly, wildly ... demandingly; meanwhile, using her lips and mouth on his body.
Eric would not have believed that he was capable of another sexual bout so soon, but his great cock began to engorge with blood, rising jerkingly into the moistness of her well-educated pussy-lips.
When she felt the first throbbing of his erection, she slid off him, gripped his big cock in her hands, milking the foreskin back and sucked him to hardened readiness, flopping to her back to take him into her with her legs pulled up to her chest and reveling in the gigantic maleness of him as he plunged it home in her.
He went into her with a rush, then, with long, slow and deliberate strokes, his ejaculation and climax delaid, he brought her to orgasm four, five ... six times, until finally she was completely spent ... satiated, almost unconscious from the unending pleasure of it.
Susan lay on her back, unable to gather the strength to ease him, bring him completion, and he was frantic, fucking into her unresponding cunt, unable to cum again.
Pulling out of her, he knelt over her lips, forcing her to take his aching cock into her mouth. She nibbled on it, finally taking all of him to suck while he moved his pelvis in a motion over her face, forcing her to take even more of him on each down-stroke, making her gag as it drove to the back of her throat, her lips turning in cruelly as she absorbed him without complaint; while, on the out-stroke, her lips pulled out, the pink, inner parts of her mouth showing. It was monumental work, but finally the hot sperm came hosing through the length of him, spewing the viscous, white semen thickly into her mouth. She kept swallowing until all of the sticky milk was siphoned from his jerking cock and was consumed. Then, he rolled heavily to his side and slept beside her.
When they again awakened it was three o'clock, and they dressed themselves and left the chilled, still gymnasium ... in silence; both of them sexually spent.
* * *
Fortunately, Eric's schedule of Friday classes did not begin until ten o'clock. He was able to sleep late, eat a late breakfast and glance over the morning newspaper before he left, bleary-eyed for the college campus.
Anne had allowed him to sleep as late as she dared, then awakened him cheerily to a delicious breakfast.
"Time to wake up, sleepy head...." she called, softly.
"Yeah," he grumped, putting an arm over his eyes to blot out the blinding light. "I'm coming ... pretty soon...."
He stumbled out of bed and ate his breakfast in comparative silence, choosing to say nothing about the previous evening and his late-late arrival home.
She tried to be vivacious, to ignore the fact that her husband had spent most of the night and half the early morning hours away from her, but she knew, or rather, felt that something of tremendous importance-to her-had happened. She didn't know what it was-she was fearful to try a guess; she might guess rightly-who it was that had kept Eric out until the crack of dawn.
When he had left the house, still silent and uncommunicative, giving her a peck of a kiss at the door, not taking her into his arms ... not even touching her, she knew, beyond any doubt, that there was something horribly wrong with their marriage ... with her. The gnawing question in her mind surfaced suddenly, slugging her in the belly viciously: Was Eric with another woman last night? Ooooooh, God!
No!
She collapsed into a heap on the living room sofa, staggered by the blow, giving vent to her pent-up emotions. The tears fell from her eyes, unnoticed and uncontrolled.
Eric ... Oh, Eric! What have I done ... to us? Dear God, help me ... now! He didn't even touch me! He ... he looked at me like I was ... a stranger ... like I revolted him ... displeased him! Oh, I love him so much ... and I want ... our marriage to work ... to be beautiful. But now ... now? ... Oh, please, help me! I want my husband ... I want him back! Please, help me to get him back!
CHAPTER FIVE
Just after two-thirty that afternoon, Eric was seated at his desk, unable to concentrate on the task at hand, remembering vividly and re-living the wild night of unbridled sex with Susan Drake when his telephone shrilled. He reached for the instrument automatically.
"Physical Education ... Field speaking," he said.
The throaty female voice came to him through the receiver, "Mr. Field ... Mr. Eric Field?"
"Yes," he said. "I'm Coach Field...."
"Nora Meaders here. It's very important ... urgent that I have a chat with you ... Mr. Field ... a private ... personal chat...."
His surprise was genuine. "Well ... ah, I ... I don't know ... I ... don't understand, Mrs. Meaders ... I...." he stumbled, not knowing why the wife of the President would want to talk with him ... privately.
She lowered her voice, "I'm not able to ... I can't tell you, that is ... what I must ... over the telephone. It's a rather delicate ... subject, but I can assure you ... that it is of utmost importance ... to you...."
The mysterious tone of her voice and the urgency she projected to him, her words surging through his consciousness, held him intrigued.
He said, "Well ... all right, Mrs. Meaders ... I ... ah ... I ... don't know ... what could be so all-fired important ... and private that you ... you'd want to talk to me about. Do you want me to ... to come to the residence ... or do you want to come here ... to my office ... it's private."
"Neither ... I'll meet you at eight tonight ... in Pomona ... The Paragon Room," she said.
"The Paragon Room ... Pomona ... eight...." he repeated. "You sure that's...."
"You'll come?" she prodded.
"Yes, of course ... but I still...." he said uncertainly. Then, "Okay ... I'll be there...."
"Good boy!" she said, and the telephone went dead as she broke the connection. Eric sat stunned. "What...?"
He dialed. Anne's voice came over the wire to him, a strange, strained note in her voice.
"Honey," he said. "I won't be home for supper tonight ... I ... I have to go to Los Angeles ... something to do with the eligibility commission. I may be late ... so don't wait up for me...."
"OOOOoooohhh, Eric," she sobbed. "What's wrong?"
"Wrong? Nothing's wrong, sweetheart ... I just have to go to this special meeting, is all...."
"No ... I mean ... with us?"
"There's nothing ... nothing wrong ... with us, honey ... What makes you think ... there's ... something wrong?" he said, stumbling.
"It's just that ... well, you were gone ... last night ... and tonight ... you're going to be gone ... again ... and...." Her voice was soft now, almost seductive.
He caught the slant of her thinking and said, "Gosh, I'm sorry, baby ... I didn't mean to ... make you worry ... maybe tomorrow night ... after the game ... eh? I'll be sure to be home then...."
"Eric?" her voice was small, little-girlish. "I love you."!
"I love you, too, honey ... Come on, now ... don't worry about me ... don't wait up ... I don't: know how long I'll be at this stupid meeting."
* * *
Nora Meaders and Eric Field sat side by side, comfortably, in a booth in The Paragon Room, excellent dry martinis before them, and they chatted of trivialities as they became acquainted with each other.
Eric was struck by the petite, yet sensuous beauty of her. There was the slightly oriental mystery of her eyes and face, her jet black hair, set carelessly but style-conscious, the svelte fit of her dress, revealing her excellent figure, the vivacity of her smile, the animated, intellectual conversation. All of this, and he wondered why he was there ... why she had chosen this place to talk with him ... and what was it she really wanted to talk to him about, for she still had not revealed to him an inkling of the nature of their meeting.
"Mr. Field ... Eric-may I call you, Eric?" she asked. "Most people who know me ... well ... call me Nora...."
"Yes ... of course ... if you wish," he said. "Nora's a nice name ... I like it...."
Suddenly, she became deadly serious, "Eric ... what are your goals? What do you want most for yourself from fife ... from Redfern?"
Wary now, he said, "I hope those are not loaded questions?"
"No ... seriously," she went on. "What do you want to do ... at Redfern?"
"Well ... I ... I haven't told anyone this before ... but I'd like, eventually, to ... to move up to a full professorship ... maybe later to Director of Athletics ... but that's a long ways away ... Dr. I Connors probably won't be retiring for a long time ... and...."
Nora listened with interest, but cut in abruptly, "Then, you want position, respect ... more money?"
"Yes ... I suppose so," he said. "Don't we all?"
She laughed, "And ... from life ... what do you want most ... What do you live for ... in your innermost being?" she prodded.
"That's a pretty big order ... but mostly I want to be a good provider for Anne ... be a good husband to her ... and a good father later on ... when we have some kids...."
"Very admirable," she said. "But, why did you leave professional football to come to a small college like Redfern?"
He thought a moment before answering, "Security, I guess ... The goals in playing football are shallow ... too short range."
"Did you make a good deal of money?" her question a goad to him, and she watched his reaction closely.
"Nora," he said, puzzled. "I don't understand ... what're you getting at?"
"Did you?" she asked, ignoring his countering question.
"Yes ... but I spent it ... almost as fast as I made it."
"Girls?" she asked, the single word hanging between them, pregnant with meaning. "Girls...." he admitted. "Many?"
"Enough ... why?"
"What kind of girls ... Eric?"
"Oh, hell!" he said. "All kinds ... good ... bad ... indifferent! But, what has this got to do with anything?" He was becoming a little piqued with her probing questions.
She plunged on, "And ... your wife, Anne ... she was one of your ... girls?"
"Hell no! Anne is different ... she's...."
"Frigid?" she darted in, scoring on him.
He stared at her, open mouthed, not knowing what this strange woman was getting at ... what she wanted of him.
"Y ... yes ... she's got some kind of hang-up," he said. "But, we'll work it out ... it's just a matter of time...."
"And ... meanwhile," she smiled at him lewdly. "You are ... shall we say ... finding other outlets for your ... sexuality?"
"What do you mean by that?" he snapped, angry, realizing now the direction of her questioning.
"This!" she said sharply, placing before him the obscene photograph of him and Susan Drake, seated in his car, his cock in her mouth, the details of the scene graphically perfect.
"My God!" he gasped, reddening. "Oh, Christ ... I never ... Wh ... where did you ... get this?"
"I can't tell you that," she said softly. "But, the person who sent this to me ... is very much concerned ... afraid that you may be getting yourself into ... a rather embarrassing situation...."
Then he saw the smoky light smoldering in her eyes and guessed what was coming next.
"Wh ... what do you ... want?" he stumbled.
"You," she said, her voice low, throaty ... ; sexy, placing a hand on his thigh and moving it in small, massaging circles, inching upward to his crotch.
Eric's prick was instantly alert, the blood racing to engorge it, his scrotum tightening below, as her warm hand caressed him, making him feel that this was not reality ... that it was not the wife of the President sitting beside him, whose touch on him sliced through him, raising him to throbbing, jerking, almost instantaneous erection.
"What? Me?" he breathed through gritted teeth, the excitement rising in him. "You sure...? But ... you ... you're Dr. Meaders' wife ... and ... and ... it's crazy! ... I...."
She broke in coolly. "Conrad and I ... have an arrangement; he has his little ... affairs ... I have mine ... and we get along handsomely."
"But ... this picture?" he started, still not in touch with the swift changes she had made.
"I'll give it to you ... afterward," she said.
"The negative...?" he bargained.
"That also...." she agreed. "And a bonus ... me! ... And ... who knows, maybe I could help you with your dreams ... too...." .
He reached for her thigh, lying warmly beside his, but she restrained him with a gentle hand.
"Don't touch me ... yet," she warned, her eyes promising him a future with her. "We can drive to our mountain cabin from here in about twenty minutes.
"Let's go!" he said, huskily.
Nora stowed the photo in her handbag and they rose, threading their way through the cocktail lounge; he, thankful for the dim light, as he walked with his hand in his pocket, trying to hide the obvious bulge of his hardened penis, inside his pants. She handed him her jacket to carry, and he was grateful for her close observation of his need for something to shield him from embarrassment.
Little more than twenty minutes later, Eric parked her white Mercedes in the garage, built under the Meaders' cabin, which was located in a popular mountain resort area, high in the San Bernardinos above Pomona.
She showed him the well-stocked bar, suggesting that lie build them drinks while she went up the stairs to the sleeping balcony, under the high A-frame, to change into more comfortable clothing.
As she climbed the stairs, he watched the ripple of her buttocks under the tight mini-dress, her thighs partially visible to him, their smooth contours exciting him, and he felt the familiar surge of blood into his cock. God! What a woman!
He made Scotch and soda, then went to the huge, natural stone fireplace to see about a fire. He soon had a commendable blaze going which began to take the chill off the large living room.
Christ! What the hell is going on? ... Ami flipping? Why? How? ... And here I am ... It doesn't make! any sense! First, Susan ... and now ... Nora Nora Meaders ... no less!
Anne! Christ ... I don't want to be unfaithful to her ... but, damn it ... she brought it on with all that puritanical crap of hers! ... If only she'd give me a chance ... I love her too much to be sneaking out on her like this ... breaking her heart ... like this afternoon. Poor kid ... she was really broken up!
Eric hadn't heard her approach, and was not aware that she had returned to the living room, until her voice came to him from the center of the room. She held both drinks in her hands as she moved toward him.
"You didn't have to wait for me ... You could have started on your own drink...." she said.
The words didn't mean anything to him. Stupidly, he took the tall glass from her hand. He could only stand and stare at her dumbly.
She was unbelievably beautiful. She wore a tightly fitted, floor length, Oriental costume of white silk brocade, shining dully in the soft glow from the fire and the muted lights of the big room. The dress shimmered and played over her body as she walked sensuously toward him, and he saw that the garment was split from floor to waist, exposing and hiding her legs alternately with each step. There was something exciting about the high, mandarin collar that enfolded her neck, covering her chastely as indeed, the entire dress did, except for those sleekly trim legs which were hidden from his view entirely, only when she had stopped before him.
Nora stood, looking up at him, the smokiness in her eyes revealing her mood. She reached out to put a hand on his muscular arm.
"Eric ... I'm glad that you ... agreed to meet me," she said.--
"I am I ... but I'm ... well, I don't usually step out on my wife ... and what about you? Your husband ... Dr. Meaders?" he began, stumbling over his words.
"Really ... Eric! We must get beyond that ... I was hoping we could ... understand each other. Conrad and I have a perfect working agreement. Now ... let us have one of our own...." she said, smiling up at him, the glimmer of a twinkle in her eyes.
"Such as...?" he questioned.
"I won't mention your wife ... if you won't mention my husband."
"Agreed!" he said.
She sank gracefully to the cushions on the floor before the fireplace, arranging herself with her legs tucked underneath. She sipped the Scotch and motioned him to sit beside her.
Eric took a huge swallow from his glass and sat down awkwardly on the floor. He wondered, as he lowered himself, whether or not she would have anything on under that fabulous dress she wore.
"That's a beautiful dress," he said.
"I'm glad you like it ... It's new. I saw it this afternoon and couldn't resist it," she said.
"You're irresistible in it ... Nora...." he said. "I want you...."
He reached for her and she came eagerly into his arms, her lips searching for and finding his. Thenmouths welded together and their tongues probed, tasting, savoring and exciting each other. His big hands explored her body; her curves under the material of the dress he found unencumbered by other garments. He felt her breasts, massaged them, feeling their smooth firmness under his hand and reveling in the feel of them, wanted them free and naked in his hands now. His hand slid upward on her back to her neck, found the zipper, grasped it and gave a long smooth pull to her waist. She shrugged her shoulders and the garment fell forward, exposing her whole body to the navel. He feasted his eyes for a moment upon the loveliness of her.
His mouth was instantly on her, kissing and caressing those magnificent, mounding orbs of her femaleness, as his hands kneaded her, grasping a nipple and teasing it to erectness in his fingers.
She lay back upon the cushions forcing him to follow. With a deft movement she removed the dress from her hips and legs, and she was completely nude before his lustful gaze, the swell of her hips, the long, tapering legs-those supple dancer's legs-exciting him even more. His prick jerked inside his pants, making its bid for freedom.
"Let me help you undress," she said.
Her small, cool hands were efficient; they moved with sure knowledge on his body, and he was soon stripped of his clothing, revealing his manhood, stiffly alert ... throbbingly engorged. j "Magnificent!" she said, reaching out to fondle the hardness and length of him, moving the slack skin, j experimentally to expose the blood-red head; then I she lay back, suddenly, pulling him on top of her.
His cock came naturally to rest in the soft, hairlined furrow of her cunt as she captured it, forcing the length of him to lie huge and thick against her, its pressure seeming to arouse her instantly. I "Do you want me?" she asked him.
"Yes ... God yes!" he gasped, his breath beginning to come heavily, labored.
"Tell me then! Tell me what you want!" she said.
"I want to fuck you, Nora!" he told her, his rough hands digging into both her breasts, squeezing them through his fingers like bread dough.
"How do you want it ... how do you want to fuck me, Eric?" she hissed into his ear.
"I'm going to ... fuck you half to death!" Eric said with meaning.
"Yes ... you'll kill me with it! You'll fuck me deep ... hard ... long!" she whispered hoarsely.
"All right, baby ... I will!" he said, trying to recapture her mouth.
"And, however I want it?" she queried, her eyes closed, breath coming harder.
"Any way you want it ... darling...." Eric said.
"Then ... take me now!" she said, a moan deep in her throat. "Fuck me! Put that magnificent cock in my cunt ... and fuck me like you've never fucked a woman before...."
Nora raised her' legs, flexing them, and reached down between their loins to grip his huge, blood-engorged prick in her tiny hand, guiding it expertly between the lips of her warmly ready pussy, where she moved the knob of it up and down in the moist furrow, parting the soft, dark hair of the vaginal opening with the throbbing cudgel and moving the foreskin back and forth several times, until he felt it grow even harder in her hand. He could wait no longer.
With firm, demanding pressure he moved his hips against her. She felt the strength of him and placed the cowled head of his cock at the cunt-lipped opening of her, the tip of it resting just inside. She was ready for him now, and he drove his mighty lance long, deep and hard into that female softness.
"OOOOOoooooohhhh!" she groaned beneath him as he felt the vaginal muscles give way with the onslaught, and his cock was in her carnal canal, the warm, elastic, inner lining slipping wetly along his length, clinging oyster-like to his hardened flesh, clasping him, claiming him and absorbing him to the hilt, his testicles swinging below, slapped against the cheeks of her up-turned buttocks, as he rammed the giant phallus into her throbbing, wide-split cleft without mercy.
She screamed with the first pain of it, as Eric struck bottom, his cock flicking past her cervix. Her hips twisted under him, screwing them back and down to escape the sudden, unexpected pain, she grimaced; but, he thrust all the harder into her, trying to cram the last bit of his giant prick up into her soft, pliant pussy.
He stopped momentarily, letting her vagina adjust to him, resting on top of her with his huge, thick rod skewering her to the rug. She opened her eyes wide, smiling smokily up at him now, the pain replaced by the filling sensation of his cock.
"God!" she moaned. "You are huge! ... And you're taking me ... literally! It's marvelous, Eric ... just marvelous...."
Her hips began to move under him then; first, in tiny circles, tantalizingjy, changing to longer back and forth strokes, screwing her ass back, forcing withdrawal, only to move forward again, her cunt sliding and climbing up his giant pole, as she impaled herself fully on the thick length of him; finally, she moved with wildly gyrating buttocks, the smoldering sensuality blown to a raging furnace in her crotch.
Eric was in a rapture of his own. He felt the fire of her, the wonderful feeling of her moist, clasping pussy moving around him was driving him wild. He braced himself on his knees and elbows above her wildly thrashing body, letting her hungry cunt slither itself up and down the rigid length of his cock at will. A couple of times he bucked forward on her upstroke, driving the growing head of his member almost through the back wall of her womb.
Then he began to dominate her, to move with her, grinding his pelvis with power, his cock moving in and out rhythmically, and she strained back at him, finally matching her movements to his, so that he pistoned her smoothly.
She moaned in ecstasy beneath him, welcoming his pounding pelvis, lifting her ass up to him, arching off the floor to meet him, her legs opening and closing around his waist, fucking back at his rampaging prick in the chanting rhythm of sexual surrender.
"Fuck me, hard ... long ... deep, my darling!" she moaned out between clenched teeth.
Her words bit into him, driving him on to plunging wildness, as he fucked into her, ramming and cramming with redoubled effort.
Nora's mouth gaped open and her head flailed from side to side as he went in deeper, faster, his cock growing each moment, filling her vaginal tunnel with its rock-hard maleness. She pulled her knees up to her chest, her crotch exposed, vulnerable, inviting him to plumb her sexual depths.
"Eric ... oh, darling! It's good! ... But, I must have more of you ... in a different way!"
"You name it...." he panted. "How do you want it ... baby?"
"The Spanish way ... Despunta!" she breathed, excitement in her eyes.
"I ... I don't know any Spanish ... what does it mean?" He was strangely excited, waiting for her explanation of the exotic term.
"Come, my lover ... let me up ... and I will teach you a new way to ... fuck!" she said.
He pulled out of her and rolled to his side, as she scrambled lithely to her knees, kneeling on a soft pillow, presenting him with her luscious backside, waggling it in his face teasingly. He could see the slightly spread lips of her softly hair-lined pussy smiling at him, and above, the tight brownish ring of her anus was beckoning lasciviously to him.
"Kneel behind me, darling!" Her voice shaky.
Quickly, he moved into position, his cock jutting impatiently out toward the soft, quivering crevice. She reached back between her legs and grasped his prick, guiding it to her cunt lips where she dipped the head of it in the moistness of her, lubricating it well; then she moved the great blood-engorged tip to the entrance of her tiny, puckered anus, smearing the viscous liquid on that opening to prepare it for penetration.
"Spread my bottom with your hands ... I'll guide this magnificent prick for you," she said.
Eric reached down, grasping a smooth, trembling cheek in each hand and carefully spread them apart, revealing the vulnerable brown opening of her tight, flexing anal passage.
"Now ... slowly, carefully ... put it into my asshole," she instructed him with bated, excited breath.
With her fingers she pressed the large, smooth head against the rubber nether ring, and he strained, moving slowly and with constant and increasing force, until with a faint pop, the head slipped in and he could feel the tantalizing, elastic muscles clasping him strongly, the tight, yet soft, sponginess of her back passage giving him a series of sensations that he had never before experienced. His sensitive glans were trapped, almost painfully; then he felt her anus begin to relax inside.
"Now! Ram it all the way!" she hissed at him, lowering her shoulders to a cushion and swiveling her head to look back at him.
He flexed his pelvis and shoved harder, the length and breadth of his cock disappearing completely inside. Instinctively he paused, not moving, to allow time for her rear channel to adjust to this invasion.
"AAaaah, now, pull all the way out," she said with excitement mounting in her voice.
His tool came out of her with a rush, and she expertly lowered it to her cunt lips. "In my cunt ... now!"
Obediently he moved forward, burying his thickness deep up into the straining moistness of her pussy.
"Now! Alternate between my bottom ... and my cunt!"
Eric needed no further instruction. He pulled from . her vagina and she guided it to her rectum again. This time it went in easier. She was more relaxed, and he rammed it in with wild abandon. She gasped with the pleasure-pain of it, as he again pulled from her, she, guiding it to her pussy, where he plunged his cock in her to the hilt, his balls slapping resoundingly into the soft, inner smoothness of her thighs.
The rhythm was established. He began to move in and out of her, alternating between anus and vagina, long rampaging strokes, backed by his powerful legs and pelvis, as she guided it with accuracy in the alternation, screwing her hips back at him to get deeper penetration in each orifice.
Nora mewled, gurgled and groaned, the sounds coming from deep in her throat, interspersed with sharp gasps of pleasure or pain, as his mighty cock pistoned in and out of her cunt and rectum. She was approaching her orgasm, her breath came in fitful jerks, as he moved in and out of both hungry holes, the sensations engulfing and consuming her, and she was filled and fulfilled, the dizzying heights of her climax visible to her as that magnificent stem of hardened lust ravished her almost beyond endurance....
"Yes ... oh, yessssss! That's marvelous," she panted in rhythm, chanting a sexual litany. "Fuck me! Fuck my ass! Fuck my cunt! In! ... Out! ... In'my ass! ... In my cunt! Fuck me! ... Fuckme ... fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme ... Fuck me!"
Faster and faster, she chanted to him, demanding her climax, wanting it to come, but wanting it to go on forever, too. Quickly, she was transported to the fiery brink of a volcanic crater, the smoking, steamy heat of it enveloping her, searing into her loins, flaming through her mind, until with a groan her orgasm released her in spasms of pleasurable euphoria, and she floated through space, down, down into the burning depths of her sexual pleasure. But ... surprisingly to her lust-crazed mind, she was not burned at all. Her release came and she was in her mountain cabin again, on the floor, Eric's shaft still plunging into her with relentless force.
"AAAaaaaaaaaaggggggghhhhh! I'm cumming! Mmmm CUUUuuuUUUmming!" she screamed in sensual agony of orgasmic joy.
As Nora screamed, Eric knew that he was near himself. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her hard back against him. He was in her asshole, and he kept his rod there, moving faster, longer and harder into her straining, tightly clenching back passage, ranging into her, the sensations in him growing ever more intense. He could feel the beginnings of his ejaculation, as his hardened flesh fucked into her like a well-oiled machine, the piston of him moving in her cylinder with increasing power. Now, his sperm-loaded balls began to jerk, the pumping action evident the length of his penis; suddenly, it was there, spewing in hosing jets of white, viscous semen far up into her rectum, while spasms of pure, animalistic pleasure shot through him, flashing in electric jolts through his mind and shuddering through his body in wave after wave of nerve-tingling sexuality. His cock continued to pump for several moments as he collapsed on top of her, lying on her back, prone, as sue lay under him on her stomach.
Nora, her head turned to him, whispered, "Oh ... darling ... darling! You were wonderful ... My lover! Simply ... magnificent!"
"My God!" he said hoarsely, panting. "I've never ... had anything ... like that!"
"MMmmm, you like?" she asked.
"Words can't tell...." he said, his prick still jerking in her. "I've never had a woman ... like you...."
"That's only the beginning, darling ... I have many more things to teach you ... if you're interested...." she said.
He didn't hesitate. "I'll be your best student," he promised. "And such a lovely teacher ... too!"
He rolled from atop her, retrieved their drinks, lit cigarettes for them, and they stretched out comfortably on the cushions in front of the warming fire in the fireplace.
Standing in the bedroom balcony high above them, Conrad Meaders began to pack his camera into its case. Neither of them had heard the soft clicks of the shutter as he had recorded the erotic scene taking place on the floor below him.
Nora is some woman! ... She fucked the hell out of him tonight! I've never known a woman who likes to fuck as much as she does ... especially Despunta. God! I can hardly wait to get her home in bed ... I've got a hard-on for her, too!
I wonder what he'll think when I get into his darling wife? She's going to be fun ... there's nothing I like better than taking a gal like Anne out of the deep-freeze. Hell! In the long run, Field will be thanking me for it!
Damn it! I hope to Christ she doesn't decide to take him on for all night! I can hardly wait to fuck her myself ... and, this is the wrong time for a trio, although she loves to take on two at a time. Shit! I'll just have to wait until she's through having her fun!
The college president stretched out on the bed, selecting an erotic book from the plentiful supply in the headboard, and waited patiently for his wife, who stretched out on the floor below, had begun to excite Eric again, manipulating him with her hands and mouth to flesh-hardened, blood-engorged readiness.
CHAPTER SIX
Anne Field cried herself to sleep again on Friday night, having gone to bed well after midnight when Eric had still not arrived home.
It was four o'clock in the morning when she finally heard him tiptoe softly into their bedroom. She pretended to be sound asleep; although she lay under the covers tensely, listening to him prepare for bed. After what seemed to her eons of time, he crawled into bed beside her.
Feigning restless sleep, she snuggled up close to him, throwing an arm over him to bring him close to her, but he turned away, gently removing her arm, trying not to awaken her-he thought-and moving away to his side of the big bed. Frustrated in her attempt to get close to him, she decided that it was useless, and turned her back, burying her head in the pillow and allowing the tears to roll down her cheeks, unheeded; however, she would not relax enough to let a single sob escape to let him know of her deep hurt.
* * *
Saturday morning Eric again slept late, arising at eleven to eat a delicious brunch Anne had prepared for him. Almost complete silence reigned between them as he ate. Afterward, he shaved and dressed, ready to go with the team to Cal State where the Redfern Rams were to play that afternoon.
He left the house just before noon, reminding her that they were invited to the Residence that evening.
"Let's try to get there by eight-thirty tonight," he told her.
"All right, Eric...." she said, her voice dull ... flat.
"And, try to get yourself fixed up," he said sharply. "You look ... dragged out. Get yourself a facial and a hair-do, sometime today."
Then he was gone, giving her a peck on the cheek, walking away from her to get into his car and roar off in the direction of the campus. Anne watched him until he was out of sight, then she closed the door and sagged against it, the hot tears gushing from her eyes, great sobs wracking her body until she was dry, and she stumbled to their bed, sprawling upon it, not caring if she lived or died ... only knowing that she had by her puritanical approach to sex estranged the only man she had ever loved.
Later, womanly concern for her home, the instinct to preserve and maintain it, drove her from the bed to the domestic chores she must do. Automatically, she moved about the house, setting it to rights, and she guessed for sure that Eric had been unfaithful to her when she began to do the laundry.
The lipstick smeared on the collar spoke for itself, but it was the hardened, thick smear on the inside of his shorts that convicted him in her mind. She stared at the whitish stain of his semen and knew that it was not for her that it had been deposited there. He had been with another woman! Eric, her beloved husband, had slept with some other woman the last two nights!
The shock of it was almost more than she could bear, but she had no more tears to weep. Dully, she put the dirtied clothes in the washing machine, and went into the living room to sit in a stupor, not I knowing what to do.
Her eyes lit upon the small bar. She went to it, poured herself two fingers of scotch and drank it off in four gulps, feeling the fiery liquid boil into her insides, numbing her mind and tingling through her body. She wanted to stop the racing thoughts; push them into oblivion ... anything to blot out the memory, the knowledge that her beloved Eric was tossing her aside ... for another woman. She shuddered.
Anne knew that she was beautiful ... desirable. She went into the bathroom, removed her robe and nightgown and looked at herself in the full-length mirror.
She looked at her reflection critically, smoothing her hands over generous breasts and the swell of hips and thighs, turning to look at the rounded, firm buttocks and finding no flaw in her svelte figure. She knew that she was fully developed, feminine and capable of much love.
Now, she examined the soft, fleecy triangle of her pubic mound, turned to examine, in turn, the tight slit of her vaginal opening; finally, standing again, using her hands to pull up her breasts to full mounds of femaleness, trying to pose provocatively, lewdly ... obscenely. She found the poses foreign to her own nature.
Her own face swam into view in the mirror, and j she was startled. She saw that her eyes were swollen and lined, her mouth drooped, and there were lines etched between her eyes on a normally smooth brow. Only one thought was left her then.
Why? ... WHY? ... Why, why, why...? ... WHY???
The front doorbell chimed out its cheery change of four notes, and she was galvanized into action. She didn't want to see anyone, but if she must, she didn't want to let them see her in dressing robe at this time of day. Hastily, she grabbed a cotton dress from the closet, shrugging it on over her head and smoothing it down over her hips and breasts, hoping that whoever it was at the front door would not notice her absence of underclothing. Then she rapidly ran a bruth through her hair and went to answer the front door.
Dr. Conrad Meaders, President of Redfern College stood there, a grim look on his face.
"Mrs. Field, I'm Conrad Meaders," he said curtly.
She was startled. "G ... good morning ... S-sir," she stuttered. "Wh ... what can I ... I do for you?"
"I have a matter of utmost importance to discuss with you," he said in his best officialeze. "May I come in?"
Anne swung the door wide for him. "Of course, Dr. Meaders. Please ... come in ... Forgive me...." she said, stumbling over her words.
Meaders entered importantly, carrying his attache case, sitting on the edge of the comfortable seat she offered him and refusing her offer of coffee ... or a drink.
"I want to get immediately to the ... business at hand," he said stuffily.
She was mystified, wondering why the President would possibly be coming to see her.
"What is it, Dr. Meaders?" she began, then gasped, "Eric! Is there something wrong with ... Eric?"
"Yes ... this has to do with your husband ... but not, perhaps, in the way you are thinking," Meaders said.
"Oh, thank heaven! I ... I thought...." she said, relieved, not finishing her sentence. "Wh ... what is it ... then?"
She sank down on the sofa, being careful of the manner of her sitting, aware that she was practically nude before this man.
Conrad leered at her. His sharp eyes had caught the fact already that she was not fully dressed; additionally, he had caught the odor of the liquor on her breath, and he smiled to himself, savoring the knowledge erotically that she was already unhappy.
"Mrs. Field ... I'll come directly to the reason for my visit," he said, his lips pulling back into a grimace. "You are, no doubt, aware that your husband was away from this domicile ... until the early morning hours today ... having been absent from you since the early evening hours last night?"
Anne gasped and hid her face from him in quick embarrassment, an instantaneous sob wracking her shoulders. She did not answer.
"You are aware of that, aren't you?" His voice was harsh, demanding.
"Y ... y ... yes...." she sobbed.
"Do you know where he was during those long hours?" he probed unmercifully, taking a sadistic pleasure in his questioning of her.
"N ... No...." Her piteous voice was mouse-like.
He waited quietly for a moment or two, enjoying his little game. "I know where he was!"
Her head jerked up. She stared in disbelief, her face a mask of stunned hopelessness. "Wh ... What? ... How...? You? ... You kn ... know ... where Eric ... was?"
"Yes, my dear," he said. "I know exactly where he was! HE WAS WITH MY WIFE!"
She could have melted through the floor with the shock and embarrassment of it. She again dropped her head into her hands, hiding her face from his view.
"Y ... your ... w ... wife...? Nora?" she sobbed.
"I ... I can't ... believe it!"
Meaders removed a thick manila envelope from his attache case and tossed it onto her lap. "There is positive proof of their infidelity!" he rasped.
"N ... no! I ... I don't want to know! I won't...." she cried.
"I think you had better look, my dear!" His voice rising.
The ominous, threatening note in his words made her straighten up. She undid the clasp and removed the contents, several 8x10 glossy, photographic prints in black and white. She glanced at the top picture and gasped.
Eric's image stared back at her, his unmistakable features masked in a look of pure lust, his big hard-muscled body completely naked, as he was ramming his huge, hardened penis into the upturned loins of Nora Meaders, her eyes closed, her face a study of female salaciousness.
"Oh, my God! My God!" she screamed and flung herself down on the couch, her dress rising with her movement to reveal her long, smoothly tapering legs to the lustful gaze of Conrad Meaders.
He allowed her to sob hysterically for a few moments, then went to sit beside her on the couch to soothe her with words of kindness, "There, there ... Mrs. Field ... I know how you must feel ... to learn so suddenly ... and in this way ... that your husband has been ... unfaithful to you."
Then, gently he raised her up, continuing, "But, you must remember ... Nora is a party to this! I am one of the injured parties, too ... You and I, together...."
"Y ... yes ... that's right," she said. "I almost forgot...."
Stooping, he gathered up the fallen prints. "Shall we look through these ... try to determine which of them we will want to use as evidence against them?"
"D ... divorce...?" she asked, hesitating uncertainly.
"Yes! Under the circumstances, don't you think that ... the culprits should be brought to justice...." he suggested.
She wailed, "No ... I love Eric! I don't want to ... to divorce him!"
Conrad put the prints in her hand and dully, she shuffled through them, each of them more revolting to her than the last. She had the weird thought that the series was almost an illustrated manual of the sexual instruction Nora Meaders had given her just three days before.
"Ugh!" she shuddered. "They're awful ... revolting!"
As she said it, she became aware that, somehow, she felt a small thrill in her, the beginnings of a strange, sexual stimulation she could not explain, and she saw no reason why she should have that unusual feeling in her loins after having seen the lewd photos of her husband and another woman in those obscene poses.
"Now, my dear, I don't know what you propose to do about your husband ... but I assure you that I am going to take some action ... and soon!" he said, driving her with his brow-beating words.
Uncertainty and confusion were in her. "I ... I don't ... know ... I can't think straight ... I...."
Meaders continued, "I've been thinking ... I'm not at all sure that I want to ... divorce my wife for this ... this trespass. The scandal of it ... would be impossible ... but I do have a strong sense of vengeance...."
Anne again stared at him, wide-eyed, not following his meaning. "What ... do you ... mean?" she asked.
"I propose that we-you and I-pay them back in kind ... make them realize that we too can play the same game." He smiled at her lewdly, his voice taking on a seductive tone.
She blushed, fully understanding his proposal now. "Why ... why that's ... preposterous, Dr. Meaders! I'm not interested ... in revenge. I just want my husband back!"
"That's the point ... if they see that we are on to them, and can embarrass them by letting them know that we are ... taking advantage, as it were, of their own laxity in marital loyalty ... we may each be able to win back our own spouses," he purred.
The reasoning escaped her, but his smooth presentation of the idea seemed suddenly somewhat of a solution. She couldn't agree with him, but neither could she really disagree. After all, Eric had certainly taken liberties ... leaving their bed to go to another woman, while she had stayed home worrying about him, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. But two wrongs don't make a right!
"Maybe ... maybe you're right ... Oh, God! I don't know...." she said with some doubt.
"Of course it's right," he urged. "Would you like to have a drink with me ... to seal our ... agreement?"
"No ... no thank you ... I don't...." she began.
"Come now ... You must take a drink occasionally ... don't you?" he said, his gaze penetrating her.
Oh, my God! I'd forgotten! I took that drink a little while ago ... and he smelted it on me! He knew!
"Well, then ... I have something special with me ... May I?" he asked, rising and going to the bar.
"Yes ... of course ... Dr. Meaders," she said, her voice lifeless.
"Now, Anne ... May I call you Anne? We must get beyond the formality. My name is Conrad ... if we are to consider some little plan ... we must appear to be ... lovers...." he said.
She was shocked. "You don't really ... m ... mean that ... you want to carry out ideas ... like that?"
"Why not, my dear? What's good for the gander...." he leered.
She was disturbed. She had no intention of pretending-or otherwise-to be anyone's lover ... except her husband's.
Meaders mixed expertly from a small flask he carried and brought the drink to her. It was milky-white with a hint of green in color and had a slightly bitter taste, as she sipped it gingerly. He saw her look of puzzlement.
"Absinthe ... an excellent drink," he said. "It is a great relaxer...."
Anne tasted again hesitantly. "Will it make me drunk?" she asked.
"Only if taken to excess," he smiled at her, sipping from his own tall Scotch and soda.
They sat and chatted while Anne nervously sipped the glass of absinthe, and before she knew it the glass was empty. Conrad watched her closely ... knowingly.
He moved in quickly. "Another, my dear?" he asked.
"No, thank you ... it was refreshing though. Oh well ... all right ... I'll have ... just one more...."
Unwittingly, she was beginning to feel reckless; additionally, a small bolt of electrical energy had balled itself, racing through her body, along her nerve endings to unleash its force in a gigantic stab at her genitals. The pleasant, though unusual, sensations produced in her naked loins beneath her dress signaled that she was feeling the effects of the liquor. She recognized the sensual sensations, but she was sure that she was in complete possession of her mind and senses.
While Dr. Meaders was mixing her second drink, she absently picked up the sheaf of photos and began looking at them more carefully.
Ugh! How awful! They're absolutely ... loathsome! How could Eric do this ... to ... to me? Oh, God ... I feel so alone...! Help me....
She became more aware of the insistent, seething sensations in her, and thought for a fleeting second that it would serve Eric right if she were to play at the same game. The thought was short-lived. NO! I couldn't do that ... not to Eric!
Conrad returned to her, handing her the tall glass of absinthe. She looked up at him, seeing him for the first time. She saw a short, powerfully built man with steel-grey hair, heavy features, and she noted the satisfied leer on his face as he resumed the seat opposite her, lounging back in it self-confidently.
My God! He's playing games with me ... watching me ... like a cat watching a mouse!
Anne made her decision. She banged the glass down hard on the coffee table.
"Dr. Meaders! I ... I don't want to go through with this ... this fiasco!" she said with determination.
Calmly he said, "It's too late ... Anne. You and I are going to go to bed, and I'm going to make love to you!"
"No!" she said vehemently. "I won't do it!"
"Let me put this to you quite simply. If you do not go to bed with me now ... I'll see to it that your husband is discharged, in disgrace, from the faculty of Redfern College!" he said in that same calm, deadly voice.
She gasped, "No! ... Y ... you wouldn't...?!"
"HE'LL BE THROUGH ... RUINED!" he said coldly.
"Eric's a good coach ... he ... he could get another job...." she said, trying to find a way out.
"My dear ... when I'm through with him, he wouldn't be able to get a position anywhere!" he said, smiling at her with menace.
"Y ... you're ... a ... a monster!" she screamed.
"You're distraught ... drink your drink!" he said harshly.
Her hand streaked for the glass to knock it over, but Conrad moved faster. He caught her wrist, stopping her short of her goal. His hands were strong, steel bands, as he held her immobile, gathering her other hand to his iron grasp.
"Stop! You're hurting me!" she cried, struggling.
"I'm sorry, my dear ... I certainly don't want to hurt you, but you will drink now!" he gritted at her, his eyes pinpoints of venom. He moved to sit beside her on the couch. With his free hand he lifted the glass to her mouth.
"Drink!" he commanded, increasing the pressure on her wrists.
Beaten, dominated by his superior strength and not wanting to risk further hurt, docilely Anne drank in large gulps, as he forced the bitter liquid down her throat.
Oh, dear Lord! What now? Is ... is this the beginning of ... of being raped? I don't want this ... this monster to touch me! I'd die if ... if he made love to me! But, what can I do? Even if I screamed for help ... there isn't anybody to hear me ... and who would believe that the ... the President could be doing something ... like this ... forcing me ... to ... to ... My God! Oh, dear Jesus ... Help me! Help me!
"There, that's better, my dear," he said soothingly, as she finished the last drop of the absinthe. "Relax, now ... let it work for you ... you'll enjoy it more."
Weakly, she asked, "Wh ... what kind of a drink ... is that?"
"It is said to be an ... aphrodisiac." His smile was lewd.
"Oh, my God! Y ... you mean it will ... make me want to...." she groaned, not finishing.
"Yes ... it will relax you ... make you less inhibited," he said.
She slumped and he released her wrists as she fell back into the cushions of the couch, sliding down dejectedly, her dress riding up to show the smooth whiteness of her thighs. She didn't care now. She was trapped. Everything seemed hopeless. Let him ogle her legs if that's what he wanted.
That drink! It's making me feel so ... so funny ... inside ... And I'm getting so warm ... and moist ... down there!
Conrad waited for a few moments before he reached for her, his hand going out to rest gently on her inner thigh, above the knee, feeling the silky, smooth warmth of her as his hand moved upward, slowly, massaging the white, creamy flesh, until he had reached the hem of her dress; then her legs parted almost imperceptibly, involuntarily, and he moved on upward confidently, the fingers of his hand exploring her searchingly. Now he was up to the pubic hair, unconfined, the blonde down of her softly curling crotch inciting him, inflaming him with hot passion.
Anne sat, unmoving, except for the involuntary relaxing of her thigh muscles to allow him access to the juncture of her thighs, but she was a mass of roiling sensations. Her body had reacted to him ... against her will, the sensitive nerve endings, inflamed by the liquor, had a mind of their own. She dimly realized that whether or not she wanted it, her reasoning mind was no longer in command. Her body was betraying her. She couldn't help herself! She knew now that she would go to bed with this horrible man ... that he would make love to her ... force her to do it, and she was helpless, trapped. There was no escape!
Help me to ... to endure it! I'll have to ... to let him ... otherwise, he could ... ruin Eric's career ... and I ... I can't ever ... let that happen. Oh, Lord ... I feel trapped ... and so ... so alone!
"Let's go to the bedroom ... now!" he said, his voice coming in short, jerky aspirations.
He pulled her, zombie-like, from the sofa and guided her firmly toward the bedrooms. At their bedroom door she stopped.
"No!" she said. "The guest room...."
I could never forgive myself ... if I let him ... do it to me ... in our bed. Oh, Eric ... Eric ... I love you! Oh, I need help! Help me, Lord!"
"No! I prefer this one!" he said, giving her arm a twist.
She cringed, trying not to think about what was going to happen as he pushed her roughly into her own husband's bedroom.
"Get the bed ready!" he commanded.
Automatically, as though she were in a trance, she pulled back the counterpane, blanket and top sheet, standing then uncertainly by the bed.
His next command was sharper yet. "Get undressed!"
Anne turned her back on him and pulled the dress over her head, then in grim acceptance, she lay down naked on the bed, her legs held tight together, her arms folded over her nude breasts and daring not to look at him.
"Is this ... th ... the way ... you want me...?" she asked.
"It's not going to be that easy for you," he said, smirking at her. "Before I'm through with you, you're going to be ... involved. I have every intention of fucking you as you've never been fucked before ... but before I do ... you're going to be begging me to fuck you!"
"Do you have to be so ... so vulgar?" she snapped, a small spark of resistance still in her.
"We're not going to argue that point just now! Turn over on your stomach!" His voice was raspy.
Hating herself for obeying him, but reasoning that if she didn't resist him, he would not hurt her ... get the ordeal over with sooner by letting him use her body as he wished, because she was convinced that rape was his real intention. She felt that she could endure it; there would be little difference between this and the way Eric had tried to make love to her these past few months since their wedding. She would not respond, and of course, she would never enjoy it. Regardless of what Dr. Meaders said, she knew she would never reach the point of begging him to do it to her. That was a preposterous idea!
Conrad Meaders, still fully clothed, sat down on the bed. Reaching out stubby fingers, he began to trace the outlines of her loveliness, lightly drawing his hand over her back and down across the swelling protuberances of the twin orbs of her smooth-skinned buttocks; then down over her legs, allowing the fingers to drift up the inside of her thighs, back to her smooth, white bottom, where he paused to massage and knead, his fingers digging in to leave welts on the silky skin.
"You have a beautiful body, Anne." His voice was soft, seductive now.
"Why don't you ... just ... take your pleasure ... and go away ... leave me alone. I won't tell anybody that you ... you forced me to ... to...." she stumbled, not wanting to say the word rape.
"My dear young lady," he said. "Do you really think that I would stoop to such a thing as ... rape? You misunderstand me! I'm not going to force you ... you're going to do it of your own free will!"
Then his lips were on her neck, kissing her wetly, his tongue tracing along on down her back, crouching over her as he came to her buttocks, on down her legs to the ankles, back up to the knees, paying special attention to the inside surfaces of them. His mouth was hot on the inside of her thighs, as he approached the juncture, where he burrowed briefly into the mysterious dark crevice. Finally, after what seemed eons of time to Anne, he had traversed the full length of her body, down and back up to her neck; then, to her ears, where he inserted the tip of his tongue to tantalize a hole there, running his wet tongue around the rim of it.
She shuddered. The slow-burning and banked fires in her were partially uncovered, as he had kissed her, and suddenly, she was aware that her body was a raging inferno of fiery sensations, all of which were being generated in her loins.
Oh, my God! It's starting to feel like I'm on fire ... down there! His kisses are ... driving me crazy ... but I can't allow myself to ... to give in to this ... this sex maniac! Oh, dear God ... Help me!
"Turn over!" he commanded. "I want to see whether the front of you is as luscious as the back."
Compliantly, she turned to her back. His tongue darted instantly across the tip of one nipple, his mouth dipping to take the whole aureola in his lips while a hand stroked the other breast, cupping the milk-white mound, then kneading it hard, his thumb and forefinger teasing the nipple to painful erectness.
Anne felt the slicing, rampaging electric shock of it in her rapidly moistening vagina, and she mewled involuntarily with the pleasurable sensation, knowing now that she wanted to be plundered ... that she must have the maleness of this horrible man absorbed into her raging loins.
But I can't ... I can't! Rape is ... is horrible enough ... I wouldn't be able to ... help myself ... but to want it to happen ... is ... is adultery! ... A mortal sin! Eric would never forgive me ... I could never forgive myself! ... But, what can I do? I'm helpless to ... to resist him ... I'm so on fire!
His tongue trailed moistly across her body, stopping momentarily to screw into her navel, then teasingly on downward to the soft blonde curls at the triangle of her belly and thighs.
Her legs which she had kept clamped tightly together began involuntarily to relax, her thighs opening slightly to his probing of her private, feminine parts. His tongue was now replaced by his hand. He inserted an exploratory finger into the soft, hair-lined crease, forcing it down, until he found the canopied bud of her clitoris and rubbed his hard finger against it, grunting with satisfaction as it began to grow, blood-engorged, under his titillation of it.
Oh, Lord ... it can't be true! Why do I lie here ... and let this happen to me? I should get up and run ... scream for help ... somehow ... force him to stop tormenting me. Oh, it's hopeless! I'm hopeless ... I don't understand! What's happening to me?
Unexplainably to her, she lost control of her legs. Her thighs suddenly, of their own volition, jerked open wide to him, and his head dropped to her cunt, his mouth exploring her until he found the erect, pulsing clitoris in its canopy of slightly darker skin of the fleshy lips of her vulva. She moaned in an agony of pleasure as he found and captured the palpitating button between his teeth and held it lightly, running his tongue in circles around it, decreasing the radius, until at last he released it from his teeth, and his tongue concentrated on the tip of it exclusively.
"Oh, please ... please, don't do that ... you're driving me crazy!" she moaned in a helpless plea that she knew would not be answered by this animal of a man.
He opened his mouth wider and moved downward. His tongue slithered into the viscous moistness of her throbbing cunt. With his head buried in the searing muskiness of her pussy, Conrad could hear her whimpering mewls each time his tongue swirled around the inside of her velvety, tumescent and softly hairlined vaginal opening. He drew her legs up and slid his arms under them so that his shoulders and arms were wedged between her now widely opened thighs. Tonguing her, he thought: It won't be long now! She'll be climbing the walls ... begging me to fuck her! God! She's going to be a hot little bitch! ... just the way I like them!
Meaders then slipped both of his hands underneath her thighs and pushed them up further, allowing her legs to drape over his shoulders. He moved his hands on up to her buttocks, feeling the tiny undulations of them and pulled the cheeks up to him, his stubby fingers digging into her brutally, bruising the soft flesh.
As she felt his tongue plunge deeply into the liquid depths of her cunt, Anne cried out her pleasure and frustration. She wanted more of it. Instinctively, she reached for the silvered thatch of his head, grasping it, tangling her fingers in the bristly scruff, she tried to pull his head farther into her as the pulsing, racing sensations of her passion engulfed her. She was helpless ... in its thrall, and she could but react animalistically to the sensual sexuality of his probing, searching tongue.
She could no longer think. She knew she had to have release from that awful torment.
"OOOOOooooh! My God! I can't stand any more! ... I" ... I ... have to have it ... now! I want you to ... to put ... your thing in me ... and finish it...." she moaned, begging him for release from the torment of frustration.
What's happening to me? I'm ... I'm actually ... begging him to ... to make love to me! He's making me ... beg him! I can't believe it! It must be the liquor ... absinthe, he called it ... that's making me do it! I'm so on fire! I never thought I would ever beg for sex ... I feel so wanton ... light-headed ... AND SEXY!
Conrad raised his head from her crotch to leer down at her lewdly. "Ah, you have found it pleasurable then?" he said, the question a statement of fact.
"Oh, yes, yes ... I need it ... now!" she whispered between tightly clenched teeth, her eyes closed to shut out his triumphant grin.
"Then you must learn the litany, my dear," he said sadistically. "What is it you want of me?"
"Sex ... I want you to do it ... to me...." Her throat was dry.
"Say it right! Say: J want you to fuck me, Conrad." He smiled down at her evilly. "Say: I want you to put your cock in my cunt ... and fuck me ... fuck me hard!"
"No! NO! I can't say that ... say those words!" she wailed.
"All right ... I shall stop ... now!" he snapped. "If you really want me to fuck you, you'll have to discard those silly notions about words! Now, ask me ... properly!"
He arose abruptly from the bed, standing relaxed, waiting, the bulge in his pants evident to her. Suddenly she feared that he would leave, that she would be left unfulfilled, on the brink of her final sexual breakthrough. Her hands stole to her own screaming vagina, a finger slipping into the crease to find the bud of her womanhood, and she rubbed at it, moving her hips in circles, legs splayed obscenely, breath coming in spasms, her eyes glazed. Her body made the decision for her then, the throbbing, pounding sensations in her cunt blotting all reason from her mind. She felt as though she were all cunt ... a cunt that had to be filled by a giant cock!
Almost out of her mind from the need for release, she pulled her legs up, fully exposing the whole of her womanhood to him, and reaching down, spread the lips of her pussy, widely in lewd invitation, her hips moving, uncontrollably, in the rhythm of sex.
She knew now that she would say it, that she was forced to say those awful words to him ... beg him to give her release from the torment of her body and mind.
"Conrad," she groaned in the depths of her humiliation at having to beg for it. "Conrad, I ... I need it ... so badly! I want ... I ... want you to ... to ... fu ... fuck ... me. I want you to ... to fuck me ... with your ... cock. I have to have ... your ... cock in me...."
He smiled in triumph over her. "Where do you want me to fuck you with my cock?" he asked her, a sadistic smile on his face.
She choked, swallowing hard the saliva that formed in her mouth, the lewd words stabbing into her brain. Finally she said, "In ... in my ... cunt...."
"Now, ask again!" he said harshly. "Let's have the whole litany again!"
"Please ... I can't wait ... I want you to ... to fuck me, Conrad. I want you to put your cock in my cunt ... and fuck me ... hard," she said, gritting out the words to him.
"Marvelous, my dear! You learn fast!" he gloated. "Now, you may help me undress!"
Her words were a prod to his own passion. His prick jerked and throbbed in the confines of his clothing. He had waited long and patiently while he had teased and tantalized this luscious piece of woman-flesh to red-hot readiness, and he knew that she would be one of his most promising conquests.
Anne came off the bed, leaping to obey him instantly. With trembling fingers she helped him to strip off his clothing, gasping in disbelief as his giant prick was released from the imprisoning shorts.
"God! You're huge!" she exclaimed involuntarily. She knew that Eric was exceptionally large, but this ... this sexual truncheon would split her apart! It isn't possible! He'll kill me!
"Do you like it?" he leered.
"It's ... it's frightening...." she said, wide-eyed with fear of it.
"You must become better acquainted with it then," he said. "Kneel down and kiss it! Take it into your mouth and suck gently on it for a few moments...."
She shouted, "You're crazy! I ... I could never, never do that! It's perverted."
"My ... you have such quaint ideas," he said. "If you want this cock of mine in your cunt ... you'll have to take it in your mouth first!"
How depraved! I must be going out of my mind! I've never felt like this before ... wanting to be ... fucked like a rutting bitch! ... And now ... now he wants me to ... to suck on his ... his cock! It's crazy! I can't do it! I won't do it!
Meaders reached for her, running his hands over her breasts, the curve of her waist and thighs, cupping her ass, pulling her loins to his and allowing his thick, lust-filled prick to slip between her thighs, the blood-red cowl of it coming to rest on the clitoridal bud as he gently but firmly moved his hips against her in erotic stimulation.
The shock of the shiny, smooth head of his cock on her clitoris was almost more than she could stand. She began to move in opposition to him, savoring the surging sensations it caused, moving in wild abandon, her hips gyrating and her moist cuntal lips sliding along the length of him.
Suddenly he pulled away from her and sat down on the edge of the bed, holding his prick in one hand, he used the other to pull her to a kneeling position between his legs; then he put his strong hand behind her neck and drew her head to his loins, stopping only when her face was scant inches from his massive member.
"Kiss it!" he grunted. "Suck it!"
He was playing games with her she realized then. There was no way she could avoid it now. Reluctantly she lowered her lips to the blood-engorged tip of it and placed her lips there gingerly, kissing that monstrous cock, doing as he bid, knowing in her mind that it was wrong, but doing it because her body demanded orgasmic release from the sexual torture he had been inflicting upon her. Then, with deep revulsion, she took the instrument into her mouth, tasting the pungent maleness of him, surprised at the soft, rubbery texture of the head, as she hollowed her lips in and out, sucking it as he had instructed her.
"Use your tongue too!" he commanded.
She touched the head with her tongue and felt the jerking shock of it in him as she swirled her oral member around and around, finally trying to insert the tip of her tongue in the tiny, moistened orifice on the end. His hips began to move, shoving the length of his farther into her mouth.
Somehow, she began to feel even more sexual excitement, the pounding, crashing, rhythmic song of desire pulsing through her body demanding its resolution. Then she felt him lie back on the bed, his hands roughly jerking her head upward and away from his ever-growing penis.
"Now, we'll try you for fit!" he said.
She stood as he moved his heavy body around to lie straight in the bed, on his back, his cock jutting up like a flagpole.
"Come, my dear," he said, holding out his arms to her. "Straddle me and we'll go for a ride!"
Anne did not wait. She was too ready ... too far along. Instantly she was atop him, her legs straddling his waist. She grasped his giant pole in her hands and guided it, unerringly, to the moist warmth of her hungry cunt. She dropped her weight back on him, absorbing all of his prick within her in one movement, his rock-hard flesh ramming up into her vaginal vault, filling her completely and flicking past the tip of the cervix as it bottomed in her.
"AAaagh!" he yelped. "Be careful! That hurt me!"
The unexpected pain was replaced by desire for her, and he flexed his hips upward, driving it even further into her as he felt the silky moistness of her pussy enveloping him with throbbing, searingly hot flesh, her body squirming above him uncontrollably.
She began to move with wild abandon, rotating her hips and driving her cunt up and down his hardened cock, taking all of him in her velvet-lined pussy with each stroke. She found that by inclining her body forward and supporting herself on her hands that she was able to move her hips more freely, and she began furiously to pump her soft, quivering buttocks up and down on him, faster and faster in the inexorable rhythm of love, locked fleshily to him by the erect phallus between them.
The reversal of roles did not bother her. She was too absorbed in the concentration of sensations in her cunt. The freedom to move, to command her own direction and to set her own speed was sheer pleasure, and she was lost in the morass of nerve-tingling sensations.
Bareback and bare-assed, Anne rode him as if she were riding a bucking horse at a rodeo, taking all of his cock with every jump, unbridled and frantic, fucking him for all she was worth, her hips writhing and pounding against him, rising and falling, swirling in great grinding rotations, her breasts hanging pendulously to his chest, the nipples spiking into him, her belly rubbing sweatingly against his hairy paunch, as she leaned further forward into her work.
He held the thick length of his prick rigid for her, allowing her to move on him, her wet cunt sliding on his length, out of .control. He could not match her beat, so he raised his hips higher, offering up his manhood in sacrifice while she danced the ritual sex dance above him. He put his clenched fists under his buttocks to raise his cock higher to her thrusting, pummeling pussy.
On and on she rode the unbridled, bucking horse, and it was a never-ending trail, until suddenly she was at the edge of a great chasm of boiling, molten lava. She dashed her mount into it, and at last she felt it coming to her, the molten lava surrounded and consumed her, the liquid racing through, inside her, and she was at the great orgasmic release she wanted ... that had been denied her for so long.
Conrad, beneath her, had finally found the rhythm of her headlong ride and rose to meet her churning movements. He thrust up at her, measuring her with his searing rock-hard cock, trying to bury his fleshy shaft deeper into her belly, until they were one in the blazing, flashing inferno of climax.
Lightnings flashed through her brain as she felt the whole of her quivering, pent-up; being brought to the brink, erupting in her belly like a giant volcano shooting forth its liquid stream of melted metals into every part of her salaciously aroused body. His plunging cock brought her well-earned, spewing reward from her wildly panting labors.
Beneath her, she heard Conrad's harsh cry, frothing forth from his lips, and she could feel the jetting flood of his seminal fluid, sperm-laden, thickly white and viscous, hosing into her from that hardened instrument of lust and pleasure.
"Oh, my God!" she screamed. "I'll die! I can't cum! I can't cum!"
Then, with a desperate and final squatting, ramming motion, she forced his spewing prick deeply into her ... and she was there!
Anne Field sat up, his jerking cock still moving in her. She threw her arms high and worshiped the heavens and the earth with rapturous encantations of her newfound sexual liturgy.
"Oh, God! Oh, Conrad ... It was wonderful! It was fuckingly wonderful! What a sensation! ... What a magnificent cock! It was so marvelous I didn't want to stop!" she babbled in her dazed sexual reverie.
She leaned down to him and captured his mouth with her own, ramming her tongue into his mouth, savoring the taste of him, and she was supremely happy and relaxed.
Finally, he broke the kiss and said, "You like?"
"MMMmm, heavenly! I like it very much," she said.
"That's only the beginning of your sexual delights, my dear. Old Doc Meaders has many things to teach you...." he said, smiling up at her.
"But, I ... I thought you only wanted me ... for this ... one time...? I didn't think you'd ... want to ... keep on...." she said, confused.
"Well, I have in mind a nice little session tonight ... at my cocktail party," he said with a leering grin playing across his lips. "We're going to show those two what real adultery looks like."
"Will you give me those ... horrible pictures ... and the negatives ... afterward?" she asked.
"That depends upon you ... how cooperative you are," he said.
"You won't ... fire Eric ... n ... now ... will you? I've done everything ... you wanted me ... to do," she bargained.
"Again, that depends upon your ... performance tonight," he rasped hoarsely. "You're off to a pretty good start this afternoon."
"And you'll keep your bargain?" she queried.
"Conrad Meaders always keeps a bargain!" he ground out at her. "What happens after tonight is up to you."
A sudden thought struck her. "Eric! He'll be at the party, too! He might see...."
"Hopefully ... yes. That's the idea ... let them know that we can play the same game ... now!"
Her tears came quick. "And he'll know that I'm ... I'm an ... adulteress! Oh! I feel sick ... dirty ... guilty. I've betrayed my marriage vows ... to Eric!"
"He was unfaithful to you first...." he said.
"Yes ... he was unfaithful first ... but now, I'm no better than he is! What gave me the right to ... to cheapen myself?"
"On the other hand, my dear ... maybe you are like a butterfly. You've broken out of yourself! You're free now of those crippling bonds of sexual frigidity. Enjoy it!" Dr. Conrad Meaders told her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Redfern Rams played a hard game against Cal State and won. Dennis Drake, in the offensive quarterback slot, tossed the winning pass. His receiver dashed into the end-zone for the score and the conversion point was booted cleanly. The final score was a handy 21 to 6 which kept the Rams solidly in their second season with a no-loss record.
Eric returned home excited and flushed with the victory. He bounded into the house shouting, "Anne! Anne! We won!"
She fell into his arms happily, "Oh, Eric ... I'm so glad! What was the final score?"
"Twenty-one to six!" he said proudly. "You should have seen them ... They played their hearts out! ... And, Dennis! ... I've never seen a young player like him ... he's going places! ... a natural born quarterback! ... Of course, it's the team that counts, but sometimes it takes a guy like him to really spark them along!"
He was still wrapped up in the game, starting to give her some more of the highlights, but Anne stood back from him, breaking out of his bear-hug.
She said, "You'd better get showered, sweetheart ... We're supposed to go to the Residence for cocktails at eight ... remember?"
The big man reached for her again, drawing her close and giving her a lingering kiss. Finally, he said, "I hadn't forgotten about it ... but I don't want to go ... especially. Could we get out of it somehow?"
"We have to ... to go, honey!" she said in panic. "It's our chance to ... to make an impression ... get accepted...."
"Do we have to join that social rat-race? I'd just as soon stay home tonight ... and take you to bed ... besides ... I'm kind of tired...."he said.
"But, Eric ... I ... I got my hair fixed ... and everything," she said, desperately trying to find a reason that would finally make him decide to go.
We just have to show up! There's no way out ... now! Eric doesn't know ... doesn't realize ... how serious this thing is! How important it is ... to him!
"Gosh, sweetie," he said, leaning back to admire her hair. " meant to tell you how nice you look! Now, I know I want to stay home ... or maybe we could go out someplace ... just us, eh?" He gave her buttocks a caress.
"I'm an ... obedient wife! You told me, before you left ... to get myself fixed up ... a facial and hairdo ... for tonight. So, I did ... When you see the bill for it ... you'll be sorry we didn't go...." she said petulantly.
He released her, resigned to it now. "All right ... we'll go," he said. "Let's have a bite to eat first."
* * *
Nora Meaders received Eric and Anne Field at the door of the Residence with grace and tact, not revealing for an instant her intense feeling for Eric to either of them. When she had opened the door to see Eric standing there, tall and handsome, she had been overcome with a desire to throw herself into his arms, kiss him long and tenderly and take him straight to bed. Her restraint was remarkable. She knew that she would get him into bed again before the night was over. She knew also that her husband, Conrad, would have Anne. Where it would go from there was anyone's guess.
They moved easily into the crowded Game Room and were served excellent dry martinis by a very fat bartender with a shiny baldhead who had been hired for the night's bacchanal. Several of the professors recognized Eric and drifted over to congratulate him on the success of the team in their win over Cal State. Eric accepted the accolades with the right amount of humility, and the adulation of the wives with appropriate shyness.
Anne soon found herself seated on a plush couch next to the attractive wife of the Chairman of the English Department. She was only slightly acquainted with this buxom brunette with the cow-like and friendly brown eyes.
"I'm Zona Waters," the brunette volunteered. "We met briefly ... at Nora's tea ... remember? You're Anne ... Anne Field ... aren't you?"
"Yes, I am," Anne said, noting that the other woman was somewhat under the influence of alcohol already. Zona slurred her words slightly, but was making an effort to speak with great accuracy and clarity.
"This seems to be a very nice party," Anne continued. "I've never been in this room before ... don't they call it the Game Room?"
Zona gulped the last inch of a tall Scotch and leaned close to Anne, lowering her voice, she said, "They call this ... The Game Room ... but the real fun and games ... are all played ... in the bedrooms ... upstairs."
This was a mystifying statement to Anne. She asked, "I'm not sure I ... I understand ... what games do they play ... up there?"
A startled look crossed Zona's placidly drunken face. Her voice raised to a louder volume. "You mean ... you don't know? You must be new ... really new! Is this your first cocktail party at the Residence?"
"Yes ... why, yes ... it is," Anne said softly, confused.
"Well ... drink hearty, Mrs. Field! Drink hearty! You'll need it!" Zona said, giggling.
"Why?" Anne queried, still not fathoming what the woman was trying to say.
"Look," Zona said, moving closer, "I don't know ... what Conrad told you ... but these little ... get-togethers ... are really ... swap meets ... sex marathons! Before this night is over ... you're going to ... get laid good ... and not by your ever-lovin' hubby! ... And ... that big ... beautiful ... hunk of man you call a husband will be puttin' it to somebody else's wife! Now ... do you get the picture...?" .
"Finally ... yes," Anne said, sipping her martini, not daring to say more, yet her mind a mass of conflicting thoughts. Her first impulse was to leave immediately, but she knew that she could not. The threat Dr. Meaders held over her head, his intention of revealing Eric's and Nora's infidelity and his vow to ruin Eric's career ... if she did not submit to him tonight, held her in petrified fear to her seat. After a few moments of silence, she continued, "Do you mean. ... all of these people ... will be ... that is ... making love ... with all different people?"
The big-bosomed brunette leered at her. "Now you've got it, honey! If you want it ... straight ... this is going to be one hell of a fucking party!"
Anne was shocked! She had never heard a woman pronounce the word before. Her face reddened; then she remembered ... she had been forced to use that self-same word for the first time that very afternoon! She could only say, "Oh!?"
"Yes ... oh! So, drink up ... honey! You'll be able to ... enjoy it ... better...." Zona said with a lewd laugh.
At that instant, a tall, silvery-haired man sat down on the other side of Zona where they were seated on the softly upholstered couch. His quick familiarity with the brunette led Anne to believe that he must be Professor Waters, but Zona introduced him as Jim Mason, a professor of mathematics.
As Zona had turned to talk vivaciously with Dr. Mason, Anne was about to get up to move to another location when Dr. Conrad Meaders entered the room. He immediately called for attention.
"Listen, everyone ... I want first to welcome all of you to the Residence. I hope you will have an enjoyable time of it here, this evening," he began.
He was interrupted by a round of tittering laughter and not a few outright guffaws, which he ignored, going right ahead with his little speech. "As the first order, of business, we have a new couple ... Eric and Anne Field."
There was a round of applause as he went on, "We hope that they will enjoy ... their first little get together with us."
Meaders chuckled along with his guests after that one.
"Seriously," he went on. "We do want to congratulate Eric and the team for their win over Cal State, this afternoon. Redfern is proud to have a man of his talents on our staff."
Now there was a round of honest applause from the assembled guests. Eric reddened shyly and accepted the praise. Anne was proud of her husband, but the introduction and congratulations seemed to her out-of-phase with what he had told her during the afternoon in her bedroom.
The President continued, "For our fun and games tonight ... I have been able to obtain a first-run movie that I think you will enjoy. Lights ... screen, please, Joe!"
Joe, the fat bartender went to the far wall and pulled down a movie screen as the guests settled themselves in the best viewing positions. Anne noted just before the lights were extinguished that everyone seemed to be paired off ... but not with their own spouses. She wondered where Eric was, but did not see him. She guessed then that he must be with Nora-she, also, was not in the room-and that, of course, left her with ... Conrad Meaders. She decided that the Meaders must have planned it that way.
Meaders had pulled aside a sliding panel, revealing a movie projector with reels loaded, ready to go. He rolled the machine from its recess, started it, focused the picture on the screen as the title and credits appeared, then came to where Anne sat. He touched her on the shoulder and motioned for her to come sit with him on a wide bench near the projector.
"Come, my dear," he said as she arose. "I want you to sit with me."
She followed him and sat primly on the bench. Conrad sat sprawlingly beside her.
He said in a hoarse whisper, "I'm glad you decided to come."
She did not answer.
He hissed in her ear, "My dear, there is nothing I dislike worse in a woman than pouting! You may as well relax ... and enjoy yourself."
"Is it true ... that all of these people here ... professors and their wives ... exchange ... partners
... and ... and...?" she stumbled.
"Yes ... we all belong to a swap club ... I'm the head honcho," he said. "I organize the fun and games ... and generally .try to keep things interesting, as it were."
"It's revolting!" she snapped.
"Don't make snap judgments, Anne! You're in no position to do that! Now, what are you drinking ... martinis? I would suggest absinthe! ... I'll get one for you!" he finished with authority.
He arose, went to the bar and returned soon with a tall Scotch for himself and the milky absinthe for her. While he was gone, her attention was diverted to the movie screen. She had paid little attention to it while she had been talking with Dr. Meaders.
The movie seemed to be concerned with the misadventures of an old-fashioned traveling salesman type whose car becomes mired hopelessly in the mud. He seeks help from a nearby farmhouse. The farmer is not at home, but the farmer's wife and comely daughter agree to feed him and put him up for the night.
Most of this lead-in action had already taken place now, and Meaders had returned with her drink which he placed in her hand. She automatically began to sip it, knowing that her reaction to it during the afternoon had been agreeable, and if she must go through with this second sexual encounter with Conrad Meaders she might as well enjoy it. She detested the man, but she couldn't help remembering that it was he who had given her such a tremendous climax ... her first one. She reddened, recalling the scene vividly ... her actions ... her words ... the keening sensations that had throbbed through her.
God! I'm really becoming ... depraved! But I have to do this ... go through with it ... for Eric!
Her attention was drawn back to the screen. The traveling salesman was being bedded down on a sofa in the living room of the farmhouse, and both mother and daughter were being extremely solicitous of his comfort. Mother and daughter reluctantly leave him to go off to their own beds. First one, then the other pop back in the room again to tell him goodnight with a promise of more intimate things to come.
THE SALESMAN, DRESSED IN STRIPED PAJAMAS, LIES RESTLESSLY ON THE SOFA, TRYING TO ADJUST HIS BODY TO ITS LUMPY CONTOURS. HE TOSSES AND TURNS, DRAGGING THE COVERS THIS WAY AND THAT. FINALLY, HE IS JUST GETTING SETTLED DOWN WHEN THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER, A YOUNG GIRL OF NINETEEN OR SO, ENTERS, CARRYING A BLANKET. SHE APPROACHES THE SOFA WHERE HE IS TRYING TO SLEEP. SHE MAKES IT PLAIN THAT SHE IS AVAILABLE, OFFERING HIM FIRST THE BLANKET, THEN HERSELF AS SHE STRIPS OFF HER NIGHTGOWN AND STANDS NUDE BEFORE HIM. THE CAMERA PANS OVER HER BODY LOVINGLY.
The girl is a beautiful brunette, endowed with abundant charms. There are appreciative murmurs from the people in the room. Conrad had not touched Anne up to this point. Now he put his arms around her and fondled a generous breast through her dress. He quickly withdrew his hand.
He said, "I don't like bras ... let's get that thing off of you!"
So saying, he took her drink from her hand and set it aside; then he reached behind and deftly unzipped the back of her dress.
"What are you doing? I won't undress ... here ... now!" she hissed at him, furious because of the public intimacy.
"Hold still ... damn it! I'll show you in just a minute!" he whispered.
Swiftly he unhooked the snaps in back, pushed the straps of the bra down over her shoulders, then, reaching up into the short sleeves he brought the straps down over her elbows, forearms and hands on each side. Reaching into the top of her dress, he smoothly slipped the lacy bra from her, the straps coming back through the armholes of the dress, the entire garment having been removed through the neck without removing her gown. As much as she hated the thought of being humiliated by him with all the others still in the room, she grudgingly had to admire the skill with which this strange man carried off the maneuver.
"Here ... put this in your purse!" he croaked.
Mutely, she took the flimsy bra and stuffed it into her handbag.
He left the back of her dress unzipped, slipping his hand and arm around her, inside the dress, to a smooth, silken-skinned breast, where he stroked, fondled and kneaded her, the nipple becoming erect under his fingers, the tingling sensation becoming more pleasant with each passing moment. She began to feel light-headed, and guessed that her drink must be the cause of it. The action on the screen again attracted her attention.
THE SALESMAN IS IRATE. HE TRIES TO SEND HER AWAY, BUT SHE IS INSISTENT. SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE WANTS. SHE THROWS HERSELF ONTO THE COUCH BESIDE HIM AND TRIES TO AROUSE HIM SEXUALLY.
HE SITS UP, TAKES THE NUDE GIRL ACROSS HIS LAP AND PROCEEDS TO SPANK HER SOUNDLY. SHE WAILS AND PLEADS WITH HIM ALL THE WHILE, HER HIPS WAGGLING UP AT HIM SALACIOUSLY.
SUDDENLY, HE STOPS SPANKING, BENDS DOWN AND KISSES HER ON SOFTLY ROUNDED BUTTOCKS HE HAD JUST BEEN SPANKING SO SEVERELY. HER EXPRESSION CHANGES. THEN, A LEWD SMILE OF TRIUMPH SPREADS ACROSS HER FACE. THE CAMERA ZOOMS IN ON THE SALESMAN'S HAND AS IN CLOSE-UP HE IS SEEN TO HAVE HIS HAND IN THE MOISTNESS OF HER CROTCH, HIS MIDDLE FINGER STROKING HER HARDENING CLITORIDAL BUD, HER HIPS MOVING IN OPPOSITION TO HIS INSISTENT, PROBING FINGER. NOW, THE LENS RETURNS TO THE GIRL'S FACE. SHE IS IN THE THROES OF ORGASM, HER FACE WORKING, HER MOUTH FORMING PASSIONATE WORDS.
SHE RELAXES WITH THE DELICIOUS CLIMAX AND SLIDES FROM HIS LAP TO THE FLOOR. THE CAMERA PLAYS OVER HER NUDE BODY FROM ALL ANGLES: FINALLY COMING BACK TO THE COUCH WHERE THE SALESMAN LIES NUDE, AN ENORMOUS, ERECT PENIS JUTTING UPWARD LIKE A STANCHION.
HE BECKONS TO HER, THEN REACHES DOWN TO TAKE HIS GENITALS IN HIS HANDS. SHE CRAWLS SLITHERINGLY ACROSS THE FLOOR TO HIM. REACHING THE COUCH, SHE KNEELS OVER HIS COCK, TAKING IT INTO HER HANDS TO FONDLE IT, SLIDING THE FORESKIN BACK, REACHING UNDER TO KNEAD HIS TESTICLES, AND SHOWING WITH A TWO-HAND HOLD THE TREMENDOUS LENGTH OF HIM.
NOW THE GIRL KISSES
THE END OF HIS PRICK AND TAKES IT INTO HER MOUTH, HER CHEEKS HOLLOWING IN AND OUT AS SHE BEGINS TO SUCK ON IT. SLOWLY, SHE BEGINS TO SLIDE HER MOUTH UP AND DOWN, HER HEAD BOBBING, AS WITH EACH DOWN-STROKE SHE TAKES MORE AND MORE OF HIS LENGTHY TOOL INTO HER MOUTH. THE CAMERA CUTS TO HIS FACE, THEN DIVIDES THE SCREEN, SHOWING BOTH SCENES.
Anne felt sick suddenly as revulsion overcame her. She tried to free herself from Meader's grasp. She was seething with anger.
"I don't have to ... to watch this ... this filth!" she snapped.
His strong hands restrained her. "You will watch, my dear!" he growled. "I'm a man of my word! One more display like this ... and your husband's career is ruined. Which will it be? You fuck me tonight ... or tomorrow the famous coach will be ... infamous! You decide which it will be ... now!"
"Beast!" she ground out at him.
For answer, his mouth captured hers, his tongue invading her lashingly through the barrier of her teeth. He bore her backward until she was prone on the bench, his hand going under her skirt to caress her warm, smooth thighs, coming, finally, to the softly curling genital mound. There he pulled down the front of her sheer panties and insinuated a finger into her moist, open slit. He found her tiny, enshrined clitoris and moved his finger on it, bringing the bud of her womanhood to erection.
She twisted her mouth aside and gasped, "Not here, Conrad! Please...?"
"Does this offend your sensibility, my dear? Look around the room!" he said. "Over there ... on the couch ... it would appear that Zona is enjoying Professor Mason ... to the fullest...."
Anne looked toward the couch. She saw Zona leaning over the sprawling form of the tall Math prof. His zipper was undone and she had his long, thin cock in her mouth, her head bobbing slowly up and down, her cheeks hollowing in and out as she sucked on the rigid, erect maleness of him.
"My God!" she exclaimed and averted her eyes.
"And over there, in the corner ... I see our sterling Dean Coffin with Mrs. Mason ... He seems to be taking her animal-fashion ... and on the bearskin rug ... our English professor, is engaging in cunnilingus with...."
"Stop it!" she hissed. She closed her eyes, covering them with her hands, trying to blot out the images she saw. It was too much for her ... too depraved ... nasty ... filthy. "I can't look ... I ... can't believe ... all these people ... could be ... so ... so lewd ... and ... uninhibited...."
"There are five bedrooms upstairs. I'd guess that there are already seven or eight couples up there ... indulging themselves," he said matter-of-factly.
All during this time, Conrad had stroked her clitoris affectionately, with feather like strokes of his fingers, and she began to move her buttocks in small circles against his hand, unable to control her urge to do so. The building up of the delicious sensations slashed at her, converging on that spot where his finger insistently rubbed and titillated her.
Anne had not seen Eric for some time. Actually, soon after their arrival, he had seemed to disappear.
She opened her eyes and looked about the dim room carefully. None of the men present seemed to resemble him in any way. She had some difficulty in recognizing anyone at all; almost every person in the room was engaged in some form of sexual activity.
Conrad Meaders continued, "Speaking of indulgences ... I think it's time for you and me to go upstairs ... come!"
He zipped up the back of her dress and pulled her to her feet. She arose reluctantly, his strong grip on her hand reminding her that, for tonight at least, he was her lord and master. She moved with him, leaving the Game Room, unnoticed by any of the copulating people. Together, they mounted the broad staircase to the second floor. Anne's stomach fluttered with fear and a certain, strange anticipation that she could not explain to herself.
Stopping at the bedroom doors one by one, Meaders ascertained that all of the bedrooms were filled with one or more couples ... and a few trios. Words and phrases drifted out to them along with the unmistakable sounds of sexual intercourse.
"Damn!" he said. "I can't even find a vacant room in my own house! Oh, well ... come along ... I'll show you my photo lab."
They stepped into the well-equipped dark-room. Anne, who had had some experience in photo-lab work, admired the efficient arrangement of the room. Her eyes drifted around at some of the photos pasted up carelessly here and there. She recognized many of the people in the pictures. Most of them were in this house now, engaged in illicit sex. The pics turned her stomach. They were explicit in detail, and no sexual depravity had escaped the all-seeing eye of Conrad's camera.
Then, a completely unexplainable thing happened to Anne. The absinthe, the digital stimulation of her breasts and clitoris, the lewd movie, the salacious pictures on the wall, the knowledge that this man wanted her sexually, and her own need all combined suddenly to give her the most erotic and sudden urge she had ever experienced. She felt the moistness between her legs, the keening sensations that coiled and recoiled in her, striking her there violently, surging out along her nerve endings only to return throbbingly, to her innermost womanly parts, and she knew that she was becoming more and more ready ... almost recklessly ready ... for anything. She noticed the bulge of his sex in Meaders' trousers, and she knew that he, too, was more than ready; however, she averted her eyes, not daring to look, to admit to herself that she could possibly be interested in him ... in his sexual organs.
He came to her and put his arms around her, slipping his hands down to cup her buttocks and pull her flaming loins close in to him, grinding his hard penis into her.
"There is one more little thing I want to show you about this room," he said.
Reaching over and behind her, he snapped out the lights and slid back a cabinet door, revealing a lighted bedroom beyond a glass window.
"It's a one-way mirror," he enlightened.
"Anne's eyes were riveted on the bed. She couldn't help watching, new, as she gazed with increasing interest and curiosity, trying to make out details in the softly lighted room.
Her view was from the foot of the bed, and she could see that there was a man and a woman on the bed, their limbs entertwined, the man above, the woman on her beck, her legs flexed upward and drawn back toward her chest. She could see the thick cock inserted, deeply, in the woman's glistening, wet cunt, spreading the soft, pink folds of her furrow, cruelly, the brown, round anus, darkly, below, the balls of the man hanging down from between muscular and hairy legs. The man withdrew, slowly, until she could see, clearly, the under side of the glans. He was huge.
Then, he plunged the monstrous prick straight into her, and she imagined that she could hear the slap of their pelvises as the thick, rock-hard rod of the man went in, burying its length completely in the soft, compliant, female flesh.
She was aware that, now, Conrad was grinding his pelvis into her loins, his cock sticking out from his trousers, as he tried to shove it between her legs, and, unconsciously, she found herself responding to his obscene caress, sliding her pelvis up and down on him through the rough cloth of his trousers.
"Would you like to hear them, also .'..?" he suggested.
He reached into the closet and snapped a switch, not waiting for her reply. A speaker, inside the cabinet, blared out with a louder sound than she had expected, magnifying the low voices from the bedroom several times their true volume.
"Eric ... Darling" the woman said. "It's wonderful ... fuck deep ... and hard...."
Anne gasped, reddening and turned her head away from the lewd spectacle.
"Is that ... Eric...?" she asked, weakly, sagging in his arms. " ... And, and ... Nora...?".
"Let's wait and find out," Meaders said, holding her tight to him.
The man's voice came over the speaker, now, "Nora, Honey ... I'm going to shove this cock in you so deep ... you'll gag on it...!"
It is ... Eric and ... Nora! Oh, God! Why...?
Why is this beast torturing me ... like this? Why does he have to ... to keep on ... torturing me like this? Why does lie have to keep on ... humiliating me ... degrading me...? Isn't it enough that I ... I know about ... Eric ... and what he's been doing ... without having to watch ... and listen ... too?
Meaders reached behind her and snapped the lights back on in the photo-lab. Instantly, the scene in the adjoining bedroom was blotted out, and she realized that one of the properties of one-way mirrors was that the viewer must be in semi-darkness.
Reaching up, behind her, Conrad gripped the zipper of her dress and pulled it, smoothly, down, then grasping the hem of her dress he began to pull the garment over her head.
"You don't intend ... to ... to do it ... to me ... here ... do you?" she asked in panic.
"It's just as good as any other place," he said, con tinuing to undress her.
He flung her dress to the back of a chair, reached for her and clamped wet lips to a puckering, pink nipple, taking the whole areola into his mouth and sucking on it, using his teeth to nip at the rapidly hardening flesh. Then, he paid tribute to its mate as he kneaded her soft, mounding femaleness in his rough hands.
Now, he slid his hands behind her, slipping one hand inside her panty hose to fondle and knead her smooth, round buttocks; then, with a deft movement he stripped the thin, nylon garment down over her tapering, marble-white thighs to her trim ankles.
She stepped out of her shoes and he stooped down to remove the sheer underclothing from her feet, sailing it across the room to join her dress. She was now completely nude before him ... stripped of all her barriers. For Anne it was a moment of truth.
Again, his finger taunted her sensitive clitoris, and Anne gasped with the ecstasy of it, in spite of herself. Her body was beginning to feel, blazingly, on fire, a fire that could not be extinguished, a fire that could consume her ... and she could do nothing-she was helpless-to stop this man, this strangely fascinating man from taking her in this way.
Stepping back from her, Meaders began to remove his own clothing ... deliberately ... methodically. Soon, he was standing naked, his huge prick standing out thick and long before him, blood-engorged and throbbing with the passion of his need for her.
Anne stared. She was dumbfounded. The size of him was immense. She couldn't believe her eyes, yet she knew that he had rammed that giant cock into her this very afternoon. She had taken all of it into her ... and had loved every minute of it ... It was impossible! Her fright was real.
"No! That awful ... monstrous thing ... is ... too...." she started.
"Come, my dear," he said. "You can acquaint yourself, again, with my cock ... need I say more!"
He opened a closet, took down a blanket and handed it to her. She took it in her hands, dumbly.
"Spread this blanket out on the work table," he told her.
Blindly, she obeyed him. As she was spreading the blanket, Nora's voice came to them over the loudspeaker, "Put your finger in my ass! I can't cum ... yet!"
With hopeless eyes she turned to Meaders, pleadingly, "Please ... turn the speaker off ... I can't bear ... to listen...."
"No! This is marvelous entertainment. Nora is ... really ... quite a woman. She just loves to take it in the ass," he said nonchalantly, as though he were talking about someone other than his wife.
He saw that she had completed the task of arranging the blanket on the work table and ordered Anne to lie down on the table on her back. She complied with his request, listlessly, sick at heart, a complete feeling of hopelessness in her. It was Eric she wanted, but Conrad Meaders was the man who dominated her.
The President of Redfern College clambered to the table top, placing himself over her, in reverse, with his thick, hardened prick over her face, his legs spread on either side of her head.
Leaning down on his hands and knees, he said, "Suck on it ... use your tongue! You may use your teeth to nip a little ... carefully ... very carefully ... and may I warn you ... Don't hurt me ... my wrath can be terrible!"
Anne reached up to him, taking his thick, loathsome instrument in her hands, sliding the slack foreskin back to reveal the blood-red hooded cowl of his penis and took it gingerly into her mouth, tasting the man-taste of him and inwardly appalled with the realization of what she was doing.
Slowly, she began to suck, using her tongue to lave the giant head of him filling her mouth, swirling her lingual member around and around it, trying, finally, to insert the tip of her tongue into the tiny slit in the tip of the glans.
Meaders leaned forward and down into the sixty-nine position, and with a groan, buried his lips in her moistened cunt. His tongue lashed out and probed wetly at her downy hair-lined vaginal opening, then moved up to the clitoridal bud, licking her to a higher pulsing excitement than she had ever before experienced. Against the commands of her reasoning mind, her body reacted, and she began to move her hips up to him, rhythmically, her pink-lined pussy on fire, begging for more of that sensuous tongue.
Oh, I don't want this to ... to happen to me ... to let this man make me want it ... want him! Why ... why do I lie here ... and let him do these horrible things ... to me...? It feels so ... so sexy ... and ... so good! ... And, I can't seem to help it , ... help myself. What's happening to me...?
The sounds of the lovemaking from the next room came to them through the speaker; the sounds of slapping flesh and punished bed springs, the squeaks and heavy breathing becoming louder and more rapid, building to an orchestral climax.
Nora was speaking, breathlessly, "Fuck me ... hard ... deep ... fast, Eric! I'm getting there ... I'm almost ... ready ... to come. Oh, Oh ... OOooh! ... I'm cumming! IH'mmmCUUUuuuummmmmiiiiiinnnngggggg! AAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
The squeaking went on, faster and faster, then, suddenly, stopped, followed by two or three heavy slapping sounds, accompanied by squeals of the complaining bed.
Eric's voice was hoarse, muffled, "I'm cumming! I'm shooting it in you! Here it is...! Oh, God! Nora! Nora! Nora!"
Anne was sickened by the explicit sounds of sex from the next room. Eric was spewing his hot sperm into another woman, but, somehow, the sounds of it and the knowledge worked to increase the delicious sensations in her own loins, the generated heat in her forcing her to jerk her crotch upward, her legs splayed out, to the insistent mouth of Conrad Meaders, and she moaned out her helpless need of him.
"Oh, Conrad ... Conrad ... I want it...! I want you to ... to do it ... to me ... now!" she gasped, out of breath.
He raised his head from the wet furrow, "Come, come, Anne ... have you forgotten the litany ... already?"
"Yes ... oh, no ... I remember ... Oh, God! I'm on fire! ... I've got to have it! Fuck me...! Fuck me ... quick!"
Conrad crawled backward from her, allowing her freedom to move. He kneeled up on his knees and leered down at her.
"Get up on your hands and knees! I'm going to take you from the rear ... in your beautiful ass!"
She cringed away from him, whimpering, "No! Oh, God ... NO! I can't do that! You'll kill me ... split me open ... with that ... that monstrous thing of yours!"
"Do as I say!" he snapped.
"You're a ... a beast! Monster! I won't do it!" she cried.
""Very well ... you give me no choice! Climb down and get dressed ... but be prepared to leave Redfern on Monday. Eric will be without a job ... and he'll have no prospect of ever getting another ... in any college in the United States!" he said with finality.
Anne climbed down from the work-table. She faced him, defiantly; then, she saw the terrible expression of anger on his face. She began to have second thoughts.
"Y ... you ... you're really serious...? You'd really do that...? I can't believe...." she was incredulous.
He stopped her with, "Hell yes, I would! Now, make your decision ... fast! I've already made mine!" He ground out his words at her, his face contorted with a towering rage.
"I ... I don't seem ... to have ... much choice ... do I? Wh ... what ... do you want ... me ... to do?" she sobbed, the quick tears scalding her cheeks and running un-noticed down her face to the corner of her mouth, where she licked the saltiness of them with her tongue. She felt lost ... completely hopeless and helpless in this man's power. She was overwhelmed by a surge of emotion, of love for her husband.
Eric! It's because I love you ... so much! Please, God ... help me ... help me ... to bear it!
Meaders jumped down from the table to stand before her. His huge cock had begun to soften, slightly. He took it in his hands and said, "First, you can work my cock back up ... a little...."
Obediently, she knelt before him, taking his giant phallus into her hands she worked the slack skin back and forth several times, feeling it begin to grow in her hands. She took it, gently, in her mouth and began to suck, furiously, not knowing why she did ... why she felt the compelling need to do so. In a few moments his rod returned to its former degree of hardness. He moved his hips back, suddenly, pulling the hard flesh of him from her lips. She tried to recapture it. He shoved her back on her heels and restrained her with his hands on her shoulders.
"That's enough!" he growled. "Now, get up and lean forward ... all the way over ... with your tits on the table!"
She complied with his commands, reluctantly. He came to her and reached down to the protrudingly, smoothly rounded and defenseless buttocks. With a middle finger, he probed the soft, white crease until he found the puckered, brown ring of her anus, as his other hand drew a cheek of her ass aside. His probing finger found it and he worked the tip of the digit into the opening up to the first knuckle, then, with a constant pressure, he shoved in all the way.
"OOOooooh! That hurts!" she moaned.
Ignoring her gasps of pain, he worked his finger around in the sponginess of her back channel, until he felt the sphincter muscle begin to relax. Now, he withdrew the finger and replaced it with two, repeating the process of stretching her small, tight anal opening; then, yet a third time he reamed her, using three fingers. Each time he entered her the frightened girl moaned with pain and terror.
He grunted, satisfied, "Now ... let's give you a taste of the real thing!"
Reaching under, he dipped his fingers in her cunt, moist and ready, using the wetness to lubricate his great cock. With the thumbs of both hands, he spread the cheeks of her ass, cruelly, exposing the round, anal ring, little edges of the pink, inner flesh showing; then, he placed the head of his shaft, blood-engorged and throbbing, against the defenseless opening.
He pushed. The head of his prick entered her, surging past the tight, elastic ring of muscles. He stopped when she screamed.
"OOOooooohhhh! My God! My God! Stop! Please...! You're killing me!" she shrieked.
He expanded the head of his cock several times; each time bringing groans of pain from her, until, finally, with a powerful flick of his hips he shoved into her, all the way, driving into the spongy tissue of her back passage, expanding it cruelly and pulling the brown edges inside, as the massive pole skewered her. Now, with his full length and thickness buried in her, he paused, again, waiting for her anal canal to adjust.
"It feels like ... like a log ... in me! Please ... please...? Conrad ... don't go on...! Please ... stop now! ... oh, please...?" she wailed, begging.
Meaders stood behind her, leaning back, slightly, and began to move his hips, slowly, at first, grinding into her with short strokes, feeling the clasping, anal muscles constrict against him, now, increasing gradually, to longer and longer strokes, rhythmically, fucking into her tight, little anus, the sensations coming to him stronger and stronger with every stroke into her.
"Fuck back ... against me!" he grunted.
Blindly, obediently, Anne moved her hips back, in opposition to him. She found to her surprise that it didn't hurt as much now. The sensations of pain were being replaced with a delicious consciousness of masochistic, sexual desire. Her whole pelvic region was aflame. Her moist, now ready cunt cried for fulfillment, too. She wanted to be filled and fulfilled everywhere, all at one time. She began to waggle her hips with abandon and sureness back up in the air, the pleasurable sensations mixed with the painful, and something in her demanded more and more.
What is it in me ... that's making me ... do this! My God! I want it! I need it! ... But, this is ... crazy! It's against nature! ... Against mankind! Dear Lord ... help me fight against this thing ... I'll go crazy ... wanting it ... and it's wrong ... wrong ... WRONG!
"Conrad ... I want more...! I need something ... in my ... my cunt ... too!" she wailed.
"There's no dildo ... here...." he gasped. "And ... you're not stretched enough here for Despunta ... yet. Use your hand!"
She had no idea of what he was talking about. "What do you ... mean...?" she asked, confusion running rampant in her tortured mind.
"Use your own fingers and hand on your cunt!" he said.
Knowing that she couldn't help herself, the demands of her body slashing at her brain, she reacted animalistically to fill the great need in her. She reached back and under with a hand, tentatively probing with her fingers and found the canopied bud of her womanhood. Greedily, hungrily, she stroked the miniature phallus.
The streaking, electric charge in her nerves was more than she could stand. She withdrew her hand, only to put it back instinctively, inserting a finger into the moist void of her vagina. Finding one finger unsatisfactory, she tried two; finally, discovering that she could take three and then four of her fingers into the clasping slit of her cunt.
She began to saw her hand in and out, in rhythm with him, waggling her hips back and forth, reveling in the keening sensation of having both pelvic orifices filled. In and out, ceaselessly, she finger-fucked herself while Conrad Meaders sodomized her from behind with the merciless abandon of a wild buffalo.
In the bedroom, next door, Eric Field had spewed his sperm far up into Nora Meador's hungry demanding cunt, grunting out his sexual satisfaction and collapsing atop her. He had brought Nora to climax three times. She, too, was spent ... for the time being.
A few minutes later, she wanted a cigarette and a drink. Eric rolled off the bed and went to get the cigarettes from his clothing and the half-finished drinks from the dressertop. Glancing into the mirror on the wall at the foot of the bed, he saw his own still jutting reflection, but there was something more; he saw shadowy motion that was not being reflected from the bedroom. He was certain that he and Nora were alone in the room.
He brought the drinks and lighted cigarettes to the bed. As he passed the mirror, again, he realized that he was seeing into another room ... it was a one-way mirror! He went to the wall switch near the door and snapped the lights off. Nora watched him with amusement, a sly smile complacent playing on her lips.
"Oh ... why are you turning out the lights, now ... Lover?" she asked.
"I'm just curious as hell about that mirror," Eric said.
He stood before the mirror and saw into what he recognized as a photo-lab. In profile view, he suddenly saw in horrified recognition, his young f ;sdd wife, Anne, completely naked, bending over the work table and Conrad Meaders was slaving away behind her, moving his hips back and forth, shoving his monstrously erect cock into his wife's backside. Instantly, the big man was angry. Unreasoning, blind rage enveloped him.
"Why, that's Anne ... and your husband! ... And, he's-he's fucking my wife in the ass!" he shouted, bounding, nakedly, for the door.
Anne! That's Anne! My God! She's being raped by that bastard! I've got to get to her ... no telling how much he's hurting her!
His hand was on the door knob, jerking open the door, when Nora's voice stopped him.
"Wait! Eric ... Wait! It isn't what you think! She's doing it ... because she wants to...!" she said, with authority.
She came off the bed with supple grace. "Would you like to hear what's going on in there ... as well?" she asked, smiling her tight, little smile.
Reaching out to the side of the mirror, she pressed a button. Instantly, the bedroom was flooded with the lewd, amplified sounds from the photo-lab.
Anne's voice came to them through the speakers, "Conrad ... I want more ... I need something in my ... my cunt ... too!"
Eric froze!
My God! She IS doing it ... because she wants to! ... And ... with Conrad Meaders! That photo-lab...! He's the one that took those pictures! Did he trap Anne ... like Nora trapped me? God damn him ...!
He turned to Nora, his face a mask of raging anger. He grasped her arms above the elbows and squeezed hard, giving her a shake at the same time.
"Tell me ... did he use pictures ... to ... to trap her ... force her to make love to him ... somehow...?" he rasped out at her.
"Please, Eric ... you're hurting me ... You don't have to become ... so violent...." she said, her eyes flaring at him.
"Well ... did he?!" he growled, shaking her harder.
"Yes! It's a little device ... we use ... for recruiting members for our ... little swap club," she said. "Now, will you please let me go?"
The big coach released her arms, and she began to massage them where his fingers had left cruel marks on the soft flesh. His mind had been racing. He made his decision. He'd play along with them, for now ... until he knew more about the situation.
He asked, "You mean ... all these people ... professors and their ... wives ... are all ... swapping mates...?"
"Yes ... isn't it magnificent fun?" she asked, creeping into his arms. "You wouldn't have had me ... otherwise, you know...."
"Well ... that's different!" he flared. "I'm a man
... and there's...."
Nora stopped him. "You're wrong! There is not a difference!" She reached down between them to fondle his flaccid prick. Continuing, she said, "Women have every right to enjoy sex ... too!"
His penis was growing harder in her hand. Suddenly, he had an idea, an idea that came to him in his anger. He had been asking himself questions, but there had been precious few answers coming to him from the welter of conflicting thoughts. Now, the one idea was foremost in his mind.
She has to be ... punished! It's wrong ... wrong for that slimy son of a bitch to be forcing her to ... fuck! But, damn it ... she's enjoying it...! Going after it like a hot little bitch! She never let me fuck her ... like that! God damn her! I'll fix her! I'm going to fuck her half to death!
He put his distorted, single-track idea into immediate use, not thinking, not considering the lightness or wrongness of his own actions.
"Come on, Nora," he said. "Let's make this a real party! ... We're going to go over there!"
Nora smiled up at him, her eyes shining, "I thought you'd never get around to it," she said. Then, more loudly, "Conrad ... Conrad, dear! ... we're coming over!"
Meaders voice came over the speaker to them, "Yes, please do ... my dear," he grunted, as he ground himself harder into Anne's tight little rectum.
Nora and Eric came into the photo-lab. Anne was only partially aware that they were there. She was absorbed ... mesmerized. She continued to ply her hand to her flaming cunt, pushing her hips back and forth to absorb to the fullest the cock of Conrad Meaders into her backside.
Eric was sickened, but he would not change his mind now. He took charge of the scene.
"Get her up on the table! I'm going to take her in the cunt-hole ... at the same time!" he said.
Meaders glanced up at him, new admiration showing in his face. Together, they maneuvered Anne, who was only half-conscious of what was going on, to the table top. Conrad took her again, burying his thick cock deeper in her anus and rolling to his back with Anne impaled like a fly on top of him.
The coach clambered to the table top, grimly, and planted himself astraddle of Meaders' legs, spread his wife's thighs, cruelly, aimed his massive cudgel at her warmly moist pussy and rammed it home in her vaginal vault without mercy.
"There! You bitch! Got enough cock in you ... now?!" he ground out at her, bitterly.
Anne screamed with the pain and force of his entry. "Oh, My God! OOOooohh! Eriiiiicc! Have you gone crazy ... too?" she shrieked, half in agony, half in uncontrollable ecstasy.
Blindly, he fucked into her, his rage and passion mounting equally. He wanted to punish ... even destroy her, if he could with the rigid weapon of his loins. As he plunged, wildly, into the softness of her open, flowering cunt, he could feel the huge bulge of Meaders' cock through the thin wall of tissue separating her vagina and anal passage.
Anne was shocked ... horrified beyond reason when Eric mounted her and thrust into her with such viciousness, but strangely, unaccountably, the two massive pricks ravishing both pelvic orifices began to bring her an unknown ecstasy. She was beginning to feel completely filled ... and fulfilled. The delirious transport glazed her eyes, and she was half-unconscious, aware only of the slamming sensations in her loins. She could not move ... could not react. She was trapped ... skewered on two giant all-consuming cocks. All she could do was lie there and let the two virile men ram their monstrous shafts into her, however, she could not understand why her husband was doing this monstrous thing to her.
Why? why? Why ... Eric? ... Eric ... why? WHY...?
Nora could stand it no longer. She had to have a piece of the action. She climbed to the table top and insinuated her lithe body between Eric and Anne, her crotch over Anne's face. Anne had never done it before, but suddenly, she knew what she must do. Her tongue snaked out and began to lick and probe, tasting the female of her, as well as the pungent maleness of the semen Eric had left there, deep in the vaginal vault of Nora Meaders.
Conrad, beneath her, reached his climax. He grunted his satisfaction, as his cock jetted white, hot streams of viscous sperm into her back passage. He jerked upward, spasmodically, driving deeper and deeper into her backside; finally, he dropped back spent, his prick jerking until the full load of sperm had been expended, deep, deep ir the far hidden recesses of the young lust-crazed wife's rectum.
Eric was like a machine, as he pistoned into Ann, and now she was on the brink of orgasmic release. She felt it coming. Her body spasmed, deliriously, the sensations shaking her, slicing into her and leaving her satiated, spent ... on the verge of unconsciousness.
Dimly, as in a dream, she heard her own scream, a piercingly high note keening through the room. "OOOOOoooooaaaaaaggghh! My God! Myyyyyyy Gooooooood! I'm cumming! Fuck me! Fuck meeeeeee ... hard! AAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaggggggghhhhh! I'll'mmm CUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUmminnnnnnmjg!"
Anne had turned her face aside as she came to her release. Nora atop her realized that she could not function for her, now. Glancing down between her legs, she saw that Anne's eyes were closed ... that the girl was nearly unconscious.
"Take me, now ... Eric!" Nora said, desperately, sliding back and raising her hips to him.
Eric kneeled up and slid his cock, rigidly, into her moistly ready cunt in one smooth motion, ramming the shaft all the way home in her. He was a wild man. He fucked with driving fury. His machine-like strokes ravaging her unmercifully.
Nora responded to him with like abandon. She came back at him with strong, vigorous strokes of her own, and the massive hardness of him filled her and brought her to the heights. She came and came again, her orgasm bringing with it a euphoria and completeness, and her cry of joy resounded, again and again, but she could not relax, yet. Eric was still driving into her, his own ejaculation delayed. She knew that she would have to help bring him to release.
She said, "Lover ... can you come better ... with Despunta?"
"Yes ... God, Yes!" he gasped with his mighty labors.
Reaching back and under, Nora guided his giant phallus, alternating between her softly pliant cunt and the resilient sponginess of her voraciously sucking rectum. In a few strokes, his sperm shot into her vaginal vault, hosing through him, pumping with magnificent force, the viscous semen spewing in an almost endless stream. Now, Eric collapsed on top of Nora, and the mass of tangled bodies was quiet, sexually satiated ... for the time being. The only sound was the sound of labored breathing.
Later, in the early hours of the morning, there was more leisurely sex and a straightforward explanation and detailed discussion of the Meaders' Swap Club.
Eric listened, grimly, outwardly agreeing with Dr. Meaders' words, but seething that such low tricks had been used to force him and Anne into the arrangement. Personally, he was in favor of the idea of exchanging partners, but he was afraid that Anne might be scarred psychically by the experience, especially the part he had played in it.
When his blind rage had left him, he realized, contritely that his sexual punishment of his wife was uncalled for ... an immature act of selfishness. He vowed to himself that he would make it up to her, his own guilt beginning to come to the fore in his hindsight reflections.
Anne had very little to say. Later, she was to bare her soul to Eric, but that would come later ... much later!
CHAPTER EIGHT
Anne was reluctant to talk about what had happened with Dr. Meaders, but the story was finally clear to Eric ... the way in which she had been terrorized into thinking that she had to submit to the President in order to protect him, Eric, from loss of job and reputation. Eric was profoundly touched and moved by his wife's tenacious loyalty and love for him.
He was glad that Anne seemed to be fully sexually aroused. She engaged in sex play and intercourse, now, with a minimum of inhibition. For this he had Conrad Meaders to thank, but for the mental and physical torture he had put her through, he had an implacable hatred for the man.
Then, Eric began to realize that he, himself, through ineptness and selfishness, was mostly to blame. He was the one at fault ... he had not aroused his wife's libido with his body ... he had not brought her any sexual satisfaction; moreover, his action in leaving her that day, picking up the Drake woman, had probably triggered the whole thing. With the exercise of marvelous hindsight, he renewed his vow that he would do everything in his power to make it up to her. He would strive to be the kind of lover he should have been all along. Grudgingly, he had to admit that the Meaders, Conrad and Nora, had, unwittingly taught them both something ... more than the mere sexual response. They had taught them about themselves. They each had a better understanding of the other and of their own needs.
His attitude toward Nora was somewhat different. True, she had tricked him, also, but from his male point-of-view, there was little seduction or coercion inVolved. He had engaged in sexual intercourse with her, willingly. Actually, he enjoyed her, although, she seemed to verge on nymphomania and was difficult to please ... to bring to orgasm. When she did come, she came two or three times in a row. The memory 'was stimulating to him.
Eric and Anne had discussed it during the day on Sunday. They discovered that, in spite of what had happened, their love was strong and firm for each other. That evening Eric made tender love to her, and Anne was overjoyed at her ability to give and receive love so uninhibitedly. They were lying in bed, afterward, luxuriating in their new-found awareness of each other.
"Anne, Honey ... would you object ... if we were to play along with them ... join up with their swap club ... for a while?" he asked her.
"Why, Eric ... why should we do that...? she queried, "I really don't want ... other men ... making love to me ... now. I just want you...."
"I've been hatching a little plan ... and in order to ... make it work ... we have to be a part of the action ... for a while, at least...." he said, chuckling to himself.
"What kind of plan...?" she was curious, now.
"I can't tell you, now ... baby," he said. "But Meaders is going to get it ... right in the neck ... if it works!"
"You're not going to ... to hurt him...?" she asked, concerned ... worried that Eric would use violence.
"No ... nothing like that. I've got something better than that in mind," he said, mysteriously, reaching for an orb of smoothly rounded and generous womanliness.
* * *
The tenor of life went along, unchanged, on the Redfern campus-at least, on the surface, but as the next week wore on, Eric learned more and more about Conrad Meaders and his beautiful wife, Nora. He made love to her, again, in the mountain cabin. Afterward, she talked, freely, about her husband and herself.
Meaders had been a nuclear physicist responsible for some of the original research leading to the development of the atomic bomb. After the bomb had been dropped on Hiroshima, he suffered a complete mental and physical break-down. While he was convalescing Nora had met him. She was, then, an exotic dancer.
"When Conrad discovered that I was part Japanese ... and that my ... grandparents had died ... in Hiroshima ... his guilt led him to pursue me ... with fabulous gifts; finally, he wanted to marry me. He divorced his first wife-I didn't want that-but he insisted on it ... and we were married...." Nora told him.
She went on, under Eric's inept questioning, to tell him of their strange dependence upon each other.
Nora told him, "Conrad wants to be ... punished ... his guilt demands it. I supply him that punishment ... in infidelity ... in extreme demands for money. It's crazy ... but that's the way it is ... that's the way he wants it...."
Eric tried to understand her, but the convoluted psychology of their lives escaped him, somewhat. She was trying to give him the background of why he acted as he did ... Eric was interested only in the actions. He knew, more than ever, that he would be able to wreak a revenge upon this strange man.
Some of the excitement of her had worn off, for him, now. He began to see her as another puppet in the hands of Conrad Meaders, a man who felt that he must control people, but who, in turn, was controlled by his own creation, this beautiful, mixed-blood woman, his wife, Nora, for whom he created infidelities as self-punishment. Eric shook his head in confusion.
He made love to her, again, violently, knowing that when he was finally able to destroy Conrad Meaders, he would have to destroy this woman, also ... or would he?"
* * *
Doctor Meaders sat across the table from Eric Field in a small, intimate restaurant in Los Angeles, far from Redfern, where neither would be recognized. Meaders, of his own volition, had just made an amazing proposition which fit almost exactly into Eric's own plan, only the details were somewhat different. It seemed as though the President was, in panic, recklessly, casting himself upon the rocks of his own destruction.
Eric saw, immediately, that he would be able to make his own points, get his advancement and the revenge he wanted. He decided to be ruthless.
Meaders was saying, "I think there's an opportunity for both of us to make some money ... big money ... this way. Do you think it's possible...?"
"Anything is possible," Eric said. "Kellog has a strong team ... Redfern could lose to them...."
"The point is ... will they ... lose...?" Conrad asked, probing for a definite answer from the Redfern coach.
"Redfern will lose," he said, simply, a sinking feeling in his stomach. The realization of the enormity of what he had just said was frightening. The thought of what he must do, now, put him in a panic.
The President of Redfern College smiled, "You're sure...?"
"I'm sure," Eric said, fighting the butterflies in his guts.
* * *
The game against Kellog on Saturday was a nightmare for Eric. The Rams hosted the Cougars at Redfern to a capacity audience of Rams fans.
Redfern had eked out a small lead in the first three quarters, but the Kellog Cougars had tied them up 14 to 14 early in the last quarter. As the Rams' offensive team took the field on a first down, Eric told Dennis Drake to use the emergency pass play, Z-23.
Dennis looked at him, questioningly, "You sure you want to use that play, Coach?"
"Yes," Eric said. "We need a surprise to pull this game out of the fire...."
Z-23 made some yardage for the Rams, but the Kellog team drove downfield with a series of power plays on the ground that backed the Redfern team against their own goa! line.
The quarterback passed for a gain of five yards, then a handoff put the Rams in the clear for a first down. Eric substituted and sent the word to use Z-23 again. Dennis didn't follow orders. He called for a different pass play, and they were stopped cold.
Eric signalled for a time-out and substitution. Dennis complied. The substitute came into the huddle.
"The Old Man says it's Z-23 ... and get your ass in the .sling and do what he says!" the young sophomore said, delivering Eric's message verbatim.
Drake glared in the direction of the Rams' bench, but he said, "All right! It's Z-23 ... and god damn it ... everybody's got to do everything right!"
The team went into the play. Dennis was smeared for a loss, the ball on the one yard line. First down for the Cougars who put the ball over for the winning touchdown, failing, however to make the conversion for a score of 20 to 14 in favor of the Cougars. The Rams made no headway in the final moments of the game, as the clock ran out to the gun ending the game. The Rams' second, unbeaten season record, thus far, was a shambles.
After the game, Eric faced the team in the locker room and congratulated them for having played a fine game. Losing had not been a part of their team life with Eric's Redfern Rams. The team members were unable to accept the defeat, gracefully.
Dennis spoke up, "Coach ... that Z-23 play is what lost this ball game for us...."
Eric was angry. "Your pass play just before that was stopped cold! You got any better ideas...?"
"Yeah ... take Z-23 out! Don't use it any more!" the quarter back shot back.
"I'll think about it," Eric said. "But don't you ever forget ... I'm the coach! I'll make the decisions of what's best for the Rams!"
"O.K.!" Dennis said. "You're the coach...." He turned away to pad off his game jersey, flinging it the full length of the locker room.
Sick at heart over what he had done to Dennis and the team, Eric left the campus, went home and proceeded to get roaringly, soppingly drunk.
God! What in the hell've I done ... to the team ... to Dennis? Worst of all ... how about me? I've never thrown a game ... before! All of this crap ... just to get even with that bastardly Meaders!
He looked, bleary-eyed, over at Anne who was watching him closely, trying to cope with his drunkenness, and he knew that it was all right. He was doing it for her! She was the one who had suffered at the hands of that son-of-a-bitch ... she, it was who had had to submit to him, unwillingly, thinking that she was protecting him, Eric. Yes, it was all right, he decided. It was worth it to lose his own integrity, his own self-respect in order to punish Conrad Meaders.
That night, he tried to make love to Anne, but he was too drunk. He was unable, for the first time in his life, to raise an erection. Anne tried to help him. She used her mouth as Meader had taught her, on his flaccid maleness in an effort to arouse him, but he fell into a deep sleep, a sleep that helped to erase some of the guilt from his mind.
Anne had been aroused by his attempts at lovemaking, but her new-found understanding of herself allowed her to use her own hand and fingers for comfort and satisfaction. Afterward, she too slept a sleep of serenity, free of guilt at last.
CHAPTER NINE
On Tuesday, Eric received a call from Dr. Meaders asking him to come to the Residence that evening for a conference. The two men sat in Meaders study. The air was laden with animosity.
"I don't bet against my own team!" Eric said, acidly.
"You could have made a great deal of money...." Meaders countered.
"I know that!" Eric snapped.
The President was puzzled. "Then, why did you throw the game, Coach?"
"Because," Eric said, evenly. "You said that you needed money ... you asked me to do it!"
"That could never be proved...." Conrad said.
"And ... nobody can prove I threw that game ... either!" Eric retorted.
"And you are adamant about not accepting the money ... from me...?" Meaders probed.
"You can shove that twenty-five thousand up your royal ass ... as far as I'm concerned! I can't be bought!" Eric's words were emphatic, final.
"Then, I fail to understand you, completely ... old man...." Meaders said, frowning. "What makes
"Will you stay ... and have a drink with us...? Nora would relish seeing you ... again...." Meaders tried, feeling him out.
Damn! Is he using Nora as a bribe...?
"No, thank you," Eric said. "Later ... per haps...."
The Coach left the Residence, knowing that Dr. Conrad Meaders was a confused, bewildered and worried man, and Eric smiled secretly to himself.
It won't be long ... now! I'll have that bastard right where I want him!
* * *
Dennis Drake thought he had it all figured out. Coach Field had thrown the game! All the odds were on Redfern to win it. Bets against Redfern would have made a killing on the day of the Redfern-Kellog game; therefore, since the coach had called for that stupid Z-23 play for a second time at a crucial moment, knowing that it was a one-shot play, it stood to reason that the game was lost, not because of bad playing, but because of a bad play called at a bad time. He knew, also, that he would never be able to prove his theory, but he knew, beyond any reasonable doubt, in his own mind, that the game had been thrown to the Kellog Cougars on purpose.
On Wednesday, Dennis cut his first class to catch Eric in his office. He walked in and closed the door calmly.
Eric looked up from his desk, "What can I do for you, Dennis?" he asked.
The quarterback came right to the point. "Cut me in on Kellog winnings!" he grated.
"What the hell do you mean?" Eric was gruff ... tough.
"I've figured it out, Coach," he said. "Somebody stood to make a killing on that game by betting against us...."
"You're barking up the wrong tree, son," Eric said. "Shove off!"
Dennis persisted, "I don't think so! You had money on that game ... you threw it with that second call for Z-23!"
Eric came out of his chair like a charging bull. His fist caught Dennis flush on the chin. The quarterback crumpled to the floor. Eric stood over him.
"Listen to me, good ... punk!" Eric ground out at him.
"I've never thrown a game in my life! I've never bet against my own team ... and no smart-assed college kid is going to accuse me of it! Now, get your ass out of here! And, if you don't feel like you belong on the Redfern Rams, any more ... you can turn in your equipment ... the sooner the better!"
Dennis rubbed his jaw. "O.K., Coach ... you proved it to me! I was hoping I was wrong ... anyway! Do ... y ... you ... still want me on the team ... after this...?"
"That's up to you!" Eric spat. "Don't go shooting your mouth off, next time, unless you can damn well prove what you're saying! Now, get out of here ... I'll see you on the field at four o'clock!"
"O.K., Coach...." the quarterback said, getting slowly to his feet and going to the door. "I'll be there!"
Dennis Drake left the office, and Eric sank back into his chair, shaken by the rapid turn of events.
Damn! That was close! I'll have to work fast ... now!
The head football coach of Redfern College picked up the telephone and dialed. He made two successive calls to two very amazed and highly placed gentlemen. The first call was to the Chairman of the Board of Trustees of Redfern College; the other call was to the area director of the Internal Revenue Service.
Both men, to whom he talked, were very much interested in the financial activities of Dr. Conrad Meaders, President of Redfern College. Eric hung up the telephone, after the last call, a self-satisfied grin on his face and congratulated himself on having done the thing with such easy aplomb.
Well ... that's that! Meaders' neck is in the noose!
* * *
Anne Field had undergone some highly traumatic experiences during the past two weeks. This was probably, in her case, a gross understatement, for in many ways, she was a different person because of them. Conrad Meaders had literally fucked her out of her deep-freeze. Subsequent sexual encounters with Conrad, Eric and other members of the swap club had given her a new and different perspective. She enjoyed sex ... now. At least, she didn't shrink from it. She had had it thrown to her young, naive body in almost every way possible. Some of the methods were still strange and a little repulsive to her, but, by and large, her sexual education had been advanced tremendously.
She was remembering, deliciously, the evening before with Conrad at his mountain cabin. They had made love four times, and each had brought her multiple orgasms.
I must be getting to be ... a nympho! God! It's good ... and getting better all the time! I don't understand myself ... all I think about lately is sex ... and more sex! I can't get enough of it!
The four-note chimes of the front door sounded. She rose from her comfortable chair and went to the door. She knew it would not be Conrad. They had agreed that he would not come to her house, any more. She opened the door to find Dennis Drake lounging against the porch railing.
"Oh ... hello, Dennis ... Dennis Drake ... isn't it...?" she asked, easily. "What can I do for you...?"
The quarterback's frank, discerning eyes looked her over, carefully, admiring what he saw. He said, "I want to talk to you ... Mrs. Field ... about your husband. May I come in...?"
Anne held the door wide. "Yes, please do," she said.
Dennis entered, accepted a comfortable chair and, again, looked her over from trim ankles, to nice calves, gently tapering thighs, swelling into fuller hips, dipping to narrow waist, up to generous rounding breasts, beautiful, unflawed face and softly curling blonde hair. Yes! He decided she was, definitely, a nice piece.
His silence and frank stare provoked her to ask, "What is it ... Dennis? What do you have to say to me ... about Eric?"
"Mrs. Field ... I think your husband threw the game with Kellog on Saturday!" he hurled at her.
She choked. "No! That's impossible! Eric ... wouldn't do a ... a thing ... like that!"
"I also think," he went on. "That the coach bet against the Rams!"
"You're wrong ... wrong, Dennis!" she cried out. "Eric is too fine a coach ... for that!"
"Yeah," Dennis said. "He denied it ... too! But, I know that game was thrown ... and on purpose! Somebody made a lot of money on it ... I heard from some of the L.A. boys ... there was one hell of a lot of money on Kellog! How can you explain that?"
"It wasn't Eric!" she said, adamantly.
"I tried to get him to cut me in," he said. "All I got was ... a clout in the chops ... but now I've got a better idea!" He leered at her, suggestively.
"Such as what...?" she parried.
"Such as making it with his stuck-up wife," he said, moving to the couch to sit beside her.
"Do you mean ... you're going to try to ... to hurt Eric by ... by forcing me to ... to make love to you...." she stumbled, trying to understand him.
"Yeah ... that's the idea! If you don't, I'll spill my guts ... ruin him as a coach!" he threatened.
Her peals of spontaneous laughter goaded him. He was confused, not knowing, not even guessing what the object of her laughter could be. He couldn't stand the thought that she might be laughing at him. His open hand lashed out. He slapped her hard on the cheek.
"Stop it!" he roared. "Stop that god-damned insane laughing! Stop it!"
Tears welled in her eyes, instantly, soft with a hurt-dog expression. Her hand went to her cheek.
She laugh-sobbed, "You'd never understand ... what's so ... so funny. It's so funny ... it hurts...!"
Anne leaned toward him, and she was in his arms, her mouth uplifted, open to him to be kissed. Their lips met and her tongue probed his mouth, touching him, savoring him, as sexual sensations went wild in her. She was, instantly, aflame.
Wantonly, her hand crept to his crotch. She found him hard and pulsing, there, as her fingers outlined the length of him through his trousers. Then, she found the zipper to his fly, gripped it and opened, the whisper of the metal loud in the room, blending with their own rasping breathing. Her hand dipped and liberated his cock from the confinement of his shorts, her hand going around it to fondle and caress.
She could feel the shock of her manipulations in his body, and she experienced an exhilaration she had never known before: It was the realization that she now had the uninhibited power in her to bring this man, any man, to full sexual stimulation. She broke the kiss and smiled at him.
Leaning over, she brought her head down to his lap. His enormously hard prick stared back at her, as she, unhesitatingly, kissed the blood-engorged head, then took it in the warm, wet confines of her mouth to suck, slowly, carefully, her tongue slathering in swirls around the glans and her head beginning to move up and down in a regular rhythm.
In a few moments of this, she became aware that he was already close to ejaculation, that he wouldn't be able to last long enough to take her. She felt his hips begin to move in opposition to her, as he rammed up at her, trying to get more of his hardened cock into her mouth. She decided it was best to bring him off; then, take off her clothes, raise him, again, let him take her, so that she, too, in turn, could come to orgasm.
She began to suck furiously, moving her head faster and faster. She could feel his hands on her head, his finger entwined in her hair, insistently, urging her to greater effort. His penis seemed to grow even larger in her mouth, and she felt the wild pumping action begin. Suddenly, the great head of his prick expanded and spewed the white, viscous sperm deep up into her working mouth. Dennis grunted his satisfaction, as she hungrily swallowed his hot, flowing semen, voraciously savoring the pungent taste of him: then, she licked all the remaining drops from the glans. She raised her head to smile up at him, her lipstick reddened lips glistening in the afternoon light filtering through the windows.
"Did you like it...?" she asked. "God! ... You must have ... sucked me dry!" he gasped.
"You were almost ready to ... to cum ... so I brought you off," she said, softly. "Now ... you can ... fuck me...."
Dennis rose from the couch, putting his now flaccid cock back into his trousers and zipping up the fly.
"I ... I've got ... to go...." he said. "I've got ... a class...."
"You're leaving ... now...?" she asked, bewildered.
"Yeah ... I was ... wrong ... again...!" he said.
"Wrong? Wrong about what, Dennis...?" mystified.
"I ... I thought ... maybe ... you'd resist ... make it interesting," he said, his mouth turning down. "But, you make me ... feel like ... like I've been ... raped!"
He strode toward the door. Anne ran to play herself in front of him, trying to stop him ... make him stay. She put her arms around his neck and ground her pelvis into him.
"But ... don't you see, Dennis ... I need you ... now! I want you to ... to stay ... and fuck me! I want that big cock of yours ... to bring me! I want to cum ... too, and feel you cum inside me...!"
Roughly, he removed her arms from around his neck.
"No, thank you! I've had it with ... nymphos!" he said.
"What ... do you ... mean...?" she asked, dejected.
"I'm married to one!" he spat, and reached around her to open the door.
Spitefully, Anne said, "Aren't you man enough ... or are you a sickie...?"
He glared at her, "I'm man enough...!"
"Then ... prove it!" she challenged.
"To hell with you!" he said vehemently, wrenching the door open and striding out onto the porch.
"You're sick ... sick ... sick!" she grated. "Don't come back, again ... ever!"
"Little danger!" he shot back, as he left the porch and walked rapidly down the driveway to his car.
Anne slammed the door and leaned against it.
My God! Have I fallen so low ... begging for it...? Making a spectacle of myself! God! I was getting hot ... I wanted that cock of his ... so bad! It seems I can't get enough fucking ... lately! I must be going off the deep end!
Hesitantly, she went to the bedroom, opened a lower dresser drawer and removed a box from the bottom of it. With trembling fingers she opened the container and removed the object from storage. She remembered that when Conrad had given it to her he had said, "My dear ... you can never tell when you may find this ... useful."
Is this the time ... when I bring myself to use it? God! How my ideas have changed! I'm a completely different person ... now!
Her mind was made up. Resolutely, she undressed herself, admiring her body in the full-length mirror, teasing and massaging her breasts, rolling her nipples to hardness; finally, inserting a finger in the crease of her vulva, finding the hardening clitoridal bud in its soft enfolding canopy of flesh, she rubbed it to erection, feeling the exhilaration of the stabbing sensations in her loins, and she was ready. Then, taking the dildo, a replica of a male penis made of a soft plastic, measuring some nine inches in length and so thick that she could not put her hand completely around it, she applied a water-soluble lubricant to its surface. Lying down on the bed she placed the artificial cock at the opening of her moistly ready cunt and pushed it into her own loins, trying to duplicate the force that a man would use in plunging an instrument of such dimensions into her womanly softness.
She was caught up in the delicious sensations of fucking herself with that massive man-made cock, moving it in and out of her wildly inflamed pussy with wild abandon, and she came to her climax in a rush of overwhelming, spasmodic, limb-jerking release that, finally, gently, allowed her peace of body ... and mind. She closed her eyes, leaving the huge cock in her as she savored the sweet sensations of satiation.
OOooh, that was good! Almost as good as a real man! ... And, I'm glad ... glad that I could do it ... bring myself to orgasm ... when I needed it! I'll never have to be frustrated ... again. It was good ... good ... good!
For an hour she slept a peaceful sleep ... a dreamless sleep of sexual satiation, and she awoke to her household chores with new-found vigor and a rising excitement of anticipation of Eric's return home, that evening. Her head raced with plans ... she would take her husband to bed ... right after supper!
CHAPTER TEN
Events moved swiftly on the Redfern Campus after Eric had made those two telephone calls. Agents of the Internal Revenue Service interviewed Dr. Meaders in his sumptuous office in the new Administration Building. They probed and came up with answers and the payment of taxes on money won by Meaders in betting. I.R.S. was not interested in how he got the money, only that the United States Government receive the correct amount of revenue.
The Redfern College Board of Trustees met in extraordinary session. This body of good men discovered that Dr. Meaders had used college funds to bet against the Redfern Rams in the Redfern-Kellog game. Eric was called to the meeting to testify.
Announcement to the public through mass media said, simply, that Dr. Conrad Meaders, long-time President of Redfern College, on advice of physicians, had decided to resign his post, effective immediately.
Dr. Coffin, Dean of Men Students was appointed to take Conrad's position as President. Unexplainably, one of Dr. Coffin's first official acts was to accept the resignation of Dr. Connors, Director of Athletics. Eric Field was appointed to fill the vacancy.
The new President's official word on this was that new Board policy was directed toward an emphasis on youth. Several professors who were beyond retirement age had been asked to make room for younger men, and Dr. Connors had been one of the first to offer retirement, voluntarily.
"I want you to know, Field," Dr. Coffin said. "I've been directed by the Chairman of the Board to offer you this job as Director of Athletics. It's not mine to offer ... something about some agreement you had with him...."
"That's right...." Eric said, mystified that Coffin knew of his deal with the Chairman.
"It's a dirty kiss-off ... for old Doc Meaders!" Coffin said. "Don't foul-up, Field ... or I'll have your ass...! Do you understand...?"
"There'll be no foul-up, sir!" Eric said. "I've got what I want ... now!" He rose to leave.
Eric was at the door, his hand on the knob, when Dr. Coffin looked up and smiled at him.
"You know, Eric ... I've got to move into the Residence, now. I don't see any reason for discontinuing our ... little get-togethers, there ... do you? ... All those bedrooms...."
"No ... no, I guess not...." Eric agreed.
* * *
Later the same day, Dennis Drake came into Eric's office to check in his football equipment. He told the coach that he was dropping out of school to join the Marine Corps. Additionally, Dennis revealed that Susan had left him; she was getting a divorce. She had gone to Reno, Nevada with Conrad Meaders.
Dennis was suddenly intense, serious, "Coach ... before I go ... tell me why you threw that game?"
"To ruin Meaders!" Eric said, candidly.
"But, why ... Coach ... why...?" Dennis persisted.
"He raped my wife," the big coach said. Dennis gaped in disbelief. "Your wife! Meaders ... raped her? She's nympho...." he said. Then, thinking he had said too much, went on, "At least, I ... I think she is...."
Eric caught his meaning, but decided to ignore it.
"She wasn't before Meaders got to her!" he said.
"Thanks, Coach ... I've got the whole picture ... now. Except one thing ... Did Old Doc Meaders ... bet against us...?" Dennis asked him, pointblank.
"I wouldn't be surprised...." Eric said.
The quarterback chuckled. "It's funny ... but maybe old Doc and Susan ... deserve each other...."
"Yes," Eric said. "Come to think of it ... they do sort of belong together."
"Well ... see you around, Coach," Dennis said, sticking out his hand to grasp Eric's big paw.
"Take care ... Dennis...." the coach said, genuinely sorry to see the quarterback leave. "I'll see you around...."
* * *
Eric tried to call Nora at the Residence, but the telephone service had been disconnected. Disconsolately, he hung up, wondering where she might have gone ... what might have happened to her.
The following day Eric sat in on several interviews with candidates for the job of head football coach to replace him. He recommended one man to Dr. Coffin, feeling that he was qualified above all the other applicants. The man was hired. His name was Rex Johnson.
Eric invited Rex and his wife Barbara to dinner for the following day. He checked with Anne, and she was willing to have them, even on such short notice.
"Honey ... what kind of a man is this new coach...?" she asked him.
They were in bed, and Eric had just told her a little more about the new man and his wife.
"Rex is about my height ... Scandanavian type...." Eric said.
"And his wife...." she queried.
"Babs...? Oh, she's a cute little red-head ... pugnose and freckles ... but she's built ... all the right curves in the right places...." he said, remembering her.
"Do you ... like her ... Eric...?" she persisted.
"Hmmmmmnn, yes ... I think she'd be easy to like," the big man said, kneading a softly rounded breast.
"Rex ... hmmmnnn...? I can't wait ... to meet him," she said dreamily, reaching for his hardening maleness and caressing it lovingly, "Can you do it to me again tonight, darling...?" slip asked.
* * *
Early the following afternoon, Eric sat in his new office, becoming acquainted with his new duties. The telephone rang. He scooped the instrument to him and said, tersely, "Physical Education, Field speaking."
"Eric...?" she asked. "Nora here ... I had to call you. Conrad ... has left me! He's getting ... a divorce...."
"Yes ... I sort of guessed that ... I'm sorry...." he said.
Nora was calm. "Don't be sorry ... for me," she said. "I knew that it would happen ... sooner or later...."
"Where are you...? When can I see you?" he asked.
"I'm at the cabin ... it's in my name, you know," she said. "You can come to see me ... anytime ... Lover."
"Any time ... Nora...?" he wanted to be sure.
She paused, then said, "Yes ... Eric! Anytime! ... Bring some friends ... if you like ... I'm lonely! Can you come ... tonight?"
"Sorry ... no. We're having dinner guests ... the new coach and his wife," he said. "Tomorrow evening O.K...?"
"I'll be waiting," she promised.
The phone went dead.
"Wait! What's your phone...?" he yelled.
Damn! I still don't know her number!
Numbly, he replaced the telephone in its cradle.
Rex and Babs Johnson arrived at the Field's home right on time. Anne served cocktails before dinner, a beautiful roast for the main course and for dessert she served her famous apple pie.
After the meal, they retired to the living room where Eric took over. He served tall drinks of good Scotch, and the conversation turned to more personal, more intimate, subjects.
"Babs...?" Anne asked her suddenly, her courage lifted by the drinks. "What do you think about ... swapping ... you know ... trading partners...?"
"Oh, heavens! ... I'm against it ... I could never let another man ... touch me ... that way ... you know what I mean?" she giggled.
Anne laughed with her, "Yes ... I know what you mean...."
She watched for Rex' reaction to her sally. She saw his interest ignite. The light in his eyes was unmistakable, as he looked at Anne, speculatively ... wondering.
The red-head went on, "But I guess ... there's lots of people doing it ... these days."
"Yes, there are," Anne said. She looked directly at Rex. "Quite a few ... do it ... some you wouldn't even suspect...."
Rex was getting the message now. He was no longer speculating. He knew! His eyes flicked over her appreciatively. He moved in to make sure.
"It might be fun ... to experiment with it...." he said.
"Over my dead body!" Babs came back. "I want only one man ... you!" She put her hand, possessively, on her husband's bicep.
"You don't have to worry ... honey," Rex said. "They're probably no swap clubs ... closer than Hollywood ... anyway."
"Christ!" Eric said from the bar. "We're out of booze! Didn't you pick up an extra fifth, today, Anne?"
Anne was dumbfounded. "I thought I did ... Eric...." she said. "Did you look...?"
"Yes ... I looked," Eric said. "It's not here. Guess I'd better get some more ... the night's young yet...."
Rex was on his feet. "Don't bother, Old Man ... we don't really need any more to drink...."
"Sit down ... relax. It'll only take a minute or two," Eric told him.
He slipped into his jacket and strode to the door, then turned back. He spoke to Babs.
"Babs ... would you like to see some of Redfern ... we'll drive downtown...." he suggested.
"Sure ... I'm game...." the redhead said, smiling her little pixie smile. "Take good care of Rex ... for me." This for Anne. She grabbed her purse and went with Eric.
They were gone for a little over an half hour. When they came into the house the living room was empty. Eric went to the bar, opened the new bottle of Scotch and began to build drinks. Babs was curious.
"Now ... where do you suppose they are...?" she asked.
"Maybe, they went out for a ride...." Eric ventured.
"No ... they didn't!" she said. "Our car is still parked at the curb."
The unmistakable sounds of passion and love-making came to them down the hallway from the direction of the bedrooms.
Babs, startled, walked to the hall. Anne's voice was clear, the words specific. "Fuck me hard ... Rex! Oh, that's it! Deep! Hard! Harder!"
"Oh, God! No! Rex ... and Anne! I ... I ... can't believe it!" Babs cried out, running down the hallway toward the bedrooms.
Eric caught her and held her, in his arms, tightly. "Don't do that! It's not ... worth it ... Babs!"
He led her back to the living room and put a drink in her hand. She gulped, hungrily ... blindly.
"What do we do ... now?" she asked, more calmly.
"That's up to you ... I guess...." Eric said. "Leave him ... sue for divorce...."
"I ... I couldn't do that! I ... I ... love him ... too much!" she sobbed, the quick tears staining her cheeks.
"Show him that two can' ... play the same game...?" Eric said, quickly, making points. "Remember ... that's my wife in there with your husband!"
"You mean ... you and me...? Do ... it ... too...?" she fumbled.
"Only if you want to...." he said. "The decision's got to be yours!"
Babs finished her drink in two long gulps. She gasped.
"What'll it prove ... if we do...?" she asked him.
"Only that you can ... have your fun ... too," he said.
She picked up another drink from the bar and slugged down another hearty swallow of the Scotch.
"Things are beginnin' to ... to look mellower ... already. Maybe ... if I get enough ... of this stuff ... I'll be able to ... to ... do it ... and, forget about that ... bastard ... Rex...." she said, slurring her words.
"Take it easy," Eric said. "You don't want to pass out ... do you...?"
"It'd make it ... easier ... maybe...." she burped.
"Maybe...." he said, taking the glass from her hand.
"Where ... do you wanna go ... Eric ... Honey...?" she asked, leaning half-drunkenly into his arms.
Eric said, "I know a place up in the mountains...."
"A cabin ... in the mountains...?" she asked.
"Yes," he said. "A nice one...."
"OOoooh, that's romantic ... let's go...!" she said, gathering up her purse and coat.
As they went out the door, she turned back and said, loudly, "Have fun ... Rex! You ... bastard!"
Eric drove rapidly but carefully along the excellent mountain highway. There were a few snow flurries, and there was a couple of inches of slush on the road when he arrived at the Meaders' cabin.
Nora welcomed Eric and Babs with her usual characteristic charm. He introduced the two women to each other.
"Please, come in ... let me take your wraps. I'll mix drinks for us...." Nora said, holding wide the door for them.
Babs murmured her thanks and moved with Nora to the large fireplace, where she selected a comfortable seat on the ledge next to the fire to warm herself.
"I thought ... we'd be ... alone...." she said to Eric when Nora had gone to the bar to mix their drinks.
"Nora's an old ... friend of mine," Eric said. "She's very understanding ... of these things."
He looked toward Nora. She held up a bottle of absinthe for him to see. His slight nod of assent was her cue. She mixed two and a tall Scotch for Eric. She brought the drinks to them.
The little redhead tasted the milky-colored liquid.
"What is this ... drink?" she asked.
Nora answered, "Absinthe ... it will relax you." She drank from her own glass and moved to where Eric sat in front of the fire. She kissed him on the ear lobe and whispered, "Do you want us both ... at the same time...?"
"I'd like to try...." he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her long and hard, his tongue snaking into her mouth to taste her, again, wanting her ... more than ever.
Eric caressed her supple body, exploring, again all of her curves, his hand, finally, going under her dress to her nylon covered loins. He found her hardening clitoris and massaged it through the sheer material of her panties. Nora broke their kiss, turning her head aside and whispered in his ear.
"I'll get naked first ... that will make it easier for her ... later." she said.
Nora stood to her feet and began, gracefully to remove her garments. Babs watched with interest and amazement. When she was nude she came to Babs and saw that her glass was empty. She took it without a word and refilled it with the milky absinthe and brought it to the redhead.
"Drink this, Babs ... it will help ... believe me!" Nora told her.
Then, she came to stretch out on the cushions beside Eric. She welded her body to him, using her hands, her mouth and her pelvis to communicate her great need to him. Her hand crept down to open his fly, and she brought his penis out and fondled it; finally, moving down with her lips to kiss and suck on it for a few moments, reveling in the growing size of him.
Babs watched, embarassedly, sipping constantly on the absinthe, not knowing why she should watch the intimacies, yet she was unable to tear her eyes away from them. Now, she saw that Nora was, methodically, expertly, undressing Eric. A few moments later his huge, jutting nudity was revealed to her, his giant cock standing up proudly, as he lay back on the cushions.
Capturing his prick in her crotch, Nora lay on top of him, allowing the length of him to lie like a log in the furrow of her rapidly moistening genitals. She could feel the throbbing hardness of him in contact with the bud of her womanhood enshrined in the softness of her cunt.
Suddenly, balls of electrical energy discharged themselves, sending racing signals along the silently watching Babs nerve endings, and Babs realized that she was becoming erotically aroused. She began to grind her hips in small circles under her. Her loins were afire. The fires could not be contained. She groaned.
Nora heard. She stood up and came to where Babs sat. She knelt down before the girl, looking up into her face.
"Babs ... look at me! Do you want Eric ... do you want him to fuck you with that magnificent cock ...?"
"No ... yes! ... Oh ... I ... I don't know! I'm so confused...." Babs said. "It seems ... so ... so wrong ... somehow...."
"You do want it, though ... don't you...?" Nora persisted. "Remember ... I'm a woman ... I know the signs! Here ... let me help you...."
Gently, Nora pulled the girl to her feet, and, deftly, began to undress her. Babs offered no resistance. When she was nude, Nora caressed her lithe young body, using her womanly knowledge to arouse her, running her hands over her, kneading the nipples to erection, then, taking the entire areola into her mouth and sucking until her nipples stood out spike-hard from her firm, high-rounding breasts.
Then, she led the trembling girl to where Eric lay, waiting and watching, and directed her to lie down on the cushions.
Eric took her in his arms, rolling her to her back, as he lay across her. He dropped his great head and glued his lips to her mouth, forcing his tongue through her lips and past the barrier of her even, white teeth to joust with her lingual member; finally, feeling her relax and giving him her tongue. He sucked on her tongue, tasting her, their saliva mixing, as his big hands mauled and kneaded her naked, white body, exploring her inch by inch.
Meanwhile, Nora was busy on the girl's body. Her hands roamed over Babs' legs and thighs; then, she used her mouth to kiss the inside of her knees, gradually moving upward to the inner thighs. Babs' leg muscles relaxed, slightly, and she drew her legs apart to use her tongue on the soft, pink slit, finding the erect clitoris, nipping with her teeth and licking her with gentleness. Finally, she allowed her tongue to penetrate the opening of the tight, little cunt with its teasing lining of soft reddish hair.
Babs was on fire, the gentle, pulsating lips on her genitals, insistent but firm were causing delicious sensations to course through her. She moaned with the ecstasy of it.
"Oh, please ... I ... I can't stand any more! I've got to have it in me!" she wailed.
"What is it you want...?" Nora asked her. "You know the words ... don't you?"
"Yes ... Oh, yes ... I want to be ... fucked! Fuck me! Fuck me ... Eric!" she cried out.
He kneaded a silky breast in his big paw, then moved down to the juncture of her smooth, white thighs, inserting a finger to rub her clitoris, briefly, then dipped a finger into the soft, trembling wetness of her more than ready pussy.
Eric moved on top of her, spreading her legs with his knees. Nora helped to guide his huge, blood-engorged cock to the tight opening of Babs' vagina.
"She's quite small ... Darling," Nora said, parting the softness of her pubic hair with the smooth, rubbery head. "Treat her ... carefully ... for the first time!"
Eric pushed. Babs moaned with pain, as the head of his hardened rod of flesh moved into the resistant elastic cunt-lips, below.
"OOOoooh! You're so huge!" Babs groaned, twisting her head from side to side.
Eric waited a few moments. Nora had an idea. She inserted a finger alongside Eric's shaft and moved it around the circumference, expanding and lubricating the opening with the moaning girl's own juices a little more. She took her hand away, just as Eric nicked his hips and drove his hard, pulsating phallus all the way into the writhing girl's warm wet vaginal passage, driving into the softness of her until his balls slapped hard into her naked upturned buttocks. He was in all the way and lay still for a moment to allow her to adjust to the huge fleshy rod sunk deep in her belly.
Babs' pain was short-lived. She found, soon, that she could accommodate him ... take all of him, after all. Eric began to rock back and forth, moving in and out of her with short strokes, gradually increasing in length, until he was withdrawing almost completely out of her warm, trembling cunt and ramming, again and again, all the way to the hilt.
The absinthe, the manipulative caresses of her body and Eric's great cock brought her shortly to a screaming, sobbing climax, the spasms wracking her body, lifting her to the apogee of sexual ecstasy, and she collapsed, satiated, under him. He ground into her for a few more strokes before rolling from her and pulling his ever-growing cock from the wetness of her with a slightly viscous swish.
Nora had watched them in fascination, her own hand sunk between her own legs, waiting for her turn. She knew that Eric could bring them both off. The redhead had been near to fainting with ecstasy even before Eric had gone into her.
Eric moved to her where she lay with a cushion under her hips, her thighs spread, obscenely, waiting for him, her hips moving already in the rhythm of love.
"I'm almost ready ... to cum ... too," she said, as he plumbed her with the great length and breadth of his hardened cock, stroking in and out of her like a machine-a giant fucking machine, and it was wild
... the wildness of animality in him that moved him, savagely.
Nora's legs scissored out on either side of him and she pushed her softly hair-lined cunt up at him, matching him with her own abandon; finally she pulled her legs up to her chest, mashing her thighs into her soft, milky breasts, as she allowed him full access to her, the whole plane of her naked crotch, he pounded into her, unmercifully.
Her orgasm came in a rush. She arched off the floor, absorbing him to the fullest. Then, her body relaxed in a great wracking sigh of orgasmic release, as his great cock continued to crash into her, time after time, and she came, again and again.
"AAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaggggghhh! Hard! Harder ... Darling! ... and ... I'll cum ... again! I'll cum again...! AAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggghhhhhh!"
Babs saw them, and, again she was flooded with desire. She was exhilirated beyond reason, her husband forgotten as she watched, fascinated, seeing that monstrous prick move in and out of Nora's tightly clenching cunt and the fantasias of orgasm into which the older woman was sent by its pistoning action.
Nora collapsed under him, spent, near to fainting from the effects of the multiple orgasmic releases.
The younger girl saw and realized that Eric had not finished, yet, as his hips rose and fell, driving deeply into Nora's relaxed body.
Babs went to them. She put her arms around Eric's broad shoulders. "Fuck me ... again, Eric! Fuck me ... now! She's finished...!" she pleaded.
Nora opened her eyes and saw the girl's plight. "I've cum twice ... so beautifully, Darling. Stop a moment ... and let Babs ... take my place...." she crooned up at him, the satiated bliss apparent in her whispering voice.
Eric finally understood. He rolled from her and Babs, quickly spread her legs wide and slid into place beneath him. The girl was more than ready, again. Furiously, he fucked into her, driving long and hard, and he began to feel his ejaculation coming.
Babs, under him, moved in frantic opposition to him, feeling that certain thrill that told her that yet another climax was coming to her. She came quick, crying out her need.
"Give it to me! Give it all to me!" she chanted. "Fuck me! Fuck me ... hard! All the way! OOOoooh! There! I'm cumming ... again! ... And ... AAAAAgggggaaaaaaaain! AAAaaaaaaaggggh!"
His cock was a living hose in her, spewing his white, hot semen deep, deep up inside her, as he felt it begin in his guts, jetting through the length of his great prick to spurt far up into her, splattering the viscous liquid all over the inside of her wildly contracting womb.
He twitched as his cock spewed the final drops and he collapsed atop her. Nora came to lie half on top of them, cradling them both to her, as completely satiated, all three rested from the excess of their efforts.
Later, they roused themselves to go to the sleeping loft, to the bed, where Eric was ensconsed between the two naked women, making love to each of them, separately, and then together, before morning.
They slept until noon. Eric awoke, heard the two women downstairs and came down to the living room, still nude.
Everything was so still and muffled. He listened, carefully; Nora and Babs were in the kitchen preparing a brunch for them. He could hear them, plainly, but the eerie quiet of everything bothered him. Idly, he glanced through the drapes of the front window.
The panes were covered with snow. Excited, now, he tried to open the front door. He was able to open the heavy door just enough to see out. He was right! They were snowbound! His car was a shapeless mound of stark white snow in the driveway.
He called to the women, "Nora ... Babs! We're, snowbound! ... looks like we're stuck here ... for a while!" They came screeching to the door to look out. Excitement reigned for a few moments among them; then came the speculation.
Eric had a sobering thought. He asked. "Nora ... how's your supply of food and fuel?"
"Excellent, Darling...." she said. "There are two cords of wood for the fireplace ... the cupboards are full ... as well as the fridge...."
"Great!" he said. "And, the bar...?"
"More than adequate ... I believe...." Nora affirmed.
"Wonderful! What a way to go!" he said, throwing an arm around each of the women. "Snowbound with two of the sexiest women alive! ... Bring on the wine, women and song!"
Nora went to the stereo unit and started it. She danced across the floor, shedding her dressing robe to dance nude before him, a provocative smile on her face.
Babs was more practical. She picked up the robe and held it out to Nora.
She said, "First things first ... Nora. We've got to feed this big guy ... to keep up his strength! We don't know ... yet how long we might ... be stuck here!"
