Suzie sat in the steaming water, grinding her pussy against the rough texture of the ancient wooden tub. That wasn't good enough. She soaped the washcloth thoroughly and, reaching down, scrubbed hard against her cunt, feeling for the clit. She found it and the sensations roiled up within her, pulsing, spreading out in concentric rings from the center of her sex tunnel. John would be fucking her soon, but not soon enough and until he was ready she needed stimulation. Rubbing her own clit wasn't Suzie's idea of the best way to get off but it was better than nothing, and who knew how long it would take before the great Mister Holmes, self-styled superstud, would get off the dime and put the meat to her.
Suzie loved to get her fucking out in the open air, where the breeze could cool her fevered body and the warm sunlight play over her pulsating flesh. She lived for intense sensation, which was why she'd had this tub installed outside her mountain retreat, rather than inside the cabin. When there wasn't a man available, which was seldom, she could at least get her rocks off while enjoying the hot water, the weather and the view. Once the tub had been the lower part of a vast oak wine vat. Now, with hot and cold water lines from her mountain retreat, it was her principal place of relaxation.
Suzie smiled as she thought again about John Holmes, bodyguard, man of all services and hired lover. She'd auditioned him for the job by the immense size of the bulge in his tight-fitting pants and the reality, unzipped and revealed to the light of day ten minutes after he was hired on, had even exceeded her expectations. "The cuntlicker really knows how to use it, too," she thought, then considered whether or not to raise his pay. "No, not until he shows signs of getting bored ... unless I tire of him first."
She lolled back once again inside the tub and gave over her thoughts to John, inside the house and waiting for her. She settled deeper into the bubble bath, up to her chin, allowed her hands to wander over her entire body until every inch of skin tingled to her own touch. "What a wonderful body I have," she thought, "The best fucking sex machine west of the Mississippi." She was certain that it was; most of the top film executives in Hollywood had told her so.
She let herself imagine that John, with his giant cock, was there in the tub beside her. Suzie's fingers gliding in and out of her cunt, nipping and rubbing at her clit, became in her fevered imagination John's mighty dong or nimble tongue. Her senses reeled, her eyes glazed. Cunt juice spurted out past her probing fingers to flavor the perfumed water. "Do it, John," she said aloud. "Ram it into me. Make me come. Make me suck it. Make me lick your cum off my lips and swallow it. Make me, you cuntlicker."
The combination of vivid fantasy and probing fingers brought Suzie to the very bring of orgasm again, but this time she wanted to delay, hold off the climactic event until John was really in her, was actually probing her hot depths with the incredible length and thickness of his meat weapon. She climbed quickly out of the tub and dried herself, allowing the warm evening breeze to lick the last drops of perfumed moisture from her body. Her nipples rose and tightened as they were kissed by the breeze. She spread her legs slightly, enough so that the same breeze that titillated her nipples might enter between her thighs and momentarily cool her fevered cunt. Suzie preferred her pleasures at their intensest level, but she also drew special pleasure from occasionally delaying them as long as possible. Besides, John would wait. That was what he was being paid for.
Suzie had hoped to enter the retreat while John was still unprepared for her, to catch him by surprise. She particularly wanted to delight in that special sensation of power she would feel as his cock rose and swelled in her mouth. No mere man could ever know that lovely sensation of control a woman experienced when her lover's cock, his manhood, his meat club, was a quivering, expanding muscle clamped between her lips and throbbing to the touch of her tongue. Oh, the lovely strength of taking it deep into her throat and knowing that at any moment, should she choose to do so, she could clamp down with her sharp teeth and render him forever incapable. Not that Suzie would ever do this to John or any other man. It was enough that she had the power.
"Oh, shit," Suzie exclaimed. She had locked herself out of the house and left the key inside. Now there was no way to surprise John, to possibly catch him beating his meat in anticipation of her arrival. She kicked the door and shouted for John to come and let her in.
John knew that Suzie was using him and accepted it, just as he accepted the check she slipped into his hand every Friday. He'd have fucked her silly for free, of course, but it never paid to let a woman know that you were hot for her. Hold out and let her make the play, was his motto, and it had never failed to pay off. John waited as long as he thought suitable and then slipped into a toga, strolled slowly to the door and opened it.
John knew at once that Suzie was ready. Her eyes were glazed and she swayed slowly back and forth to the tune of music played only inside her head. It was the heavy beat of jungle drums pounding out a melody of Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. He put his arms around her and pulled her tight against himself, bent his head and crushed his lips against hers. Then he released her, closed and locked the door behind her and released the belt of his toga; allowed the garment to slip from his shoulders and fall to the floor. His released cock bobbed up and rustled against the soft hairs that ringed her cunt. Then, as she stepped forward to increase the pressure of cock against cunt he swept her into his arms and carried her to the waiting mattress.
John stared down at her surrendered body, wondering where to begin. Usually his-employer gave some sign indicating where her immediate interests lay, but this time Suzie appeared too far gone in anticipatory lust to help him with a clue. No. There it was. Her lips parted and the pink tip of her tongue flicked out to moisten them. "That's where she wants it first," he thought, "in the mouth."
Suzie was ready for him. The fingers of one hand were once again twisting and gliding in the depths of her cunt. Her eyes opened and fixed on his; glazed no longer but instead glittering with savage lust. She reached up with her free hand and grasped him by the cock, feeling it pulse like an independently living thing between her fingers. She stroked it slowly, and just as slowly drew him down to kneel beside her face.
Only part of the enormous length of John's cock could force its way into her mouth, but it was enough. Her tongue licked and darted around the head of his cock. Her teeth nibbled gently, teasing but never drawing blood. Her thighs quivered and parted while she thrust three fingers into her cunt and rubbed her clit at the same time with her thumb.
John could have come while she was sucking him, filled her mouth with the hot-, sticky product of his balls, but it was far too soon for either of them to erupt with that final release. Instead, he eased his cock from between her lips and scooted lower on the bed. With both hands he spread her knees as far apart as they could go while she raised them to ease his access to her cunt. His head dipped and his tongue made contact with the lips of her cunt, probed deep between them, butted and slurped against her clit.
Suzie's eyes rolled up into her head until only the whites showed and her whole body shuddered. A bit of foam appeared between her lips. She locked her thighs around John's head and rotated her hips, grinding her cunt hard against his mouth. John sucked her clit and the flesh around it into his mouth, working with his tongue, biting gently, nibbling at the sweet flesh. She pumped her hips harder, more demandingly. He could feel her building toward a climax.
Business was business, but John was finally at the point where his own demands took first place. Before she came, before her love juices bubbled up into his mouth, he was going to feel the slick, hot softness of her cunt wrapped around the entire length of his cock. He hauled himself away from her thrusting cunt, which followed his face demanding to be eaten. He heaved himself forward and over her and though she writhed beneath him straining to be eaten, he placed the head of his giant cock against the lips of her cunt and rammed it home. Twelve inches and more sank home like a living battering ram. Suzie's eyes opened, blankly staring, and she gasped for breath as the pressure told on her. Her cunt stretched to its very limits, expanding to accept its length and breadth. She felt entirely filled. Her legs rose slowly and settled above his hips. Her ankles crossed and clamped together, locking him into her pussy. Her hips pumped, harder and faster as the breath came exploding from her mouth in great gasps. A harsh, animal sound escaped from her lips, which pulled back to expose her teeth. John could feel the heat rising deep within her as she spiralled toward her climax.
John, too, felt himself about to come. His balls were tightening, drawing up toward his body as the load within them demanded release. His internal pressures were mounting, climbing toward that point where flesh and muscle could no longer hold them back.
Suzie was coming. He could feel her entire body, locked against his, convulse as the spasms sped through her. Her body, now totally out of control of her mind, writhed and twisted. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she grunted, repeating the one word as though everything else had been driven from her mind.
Her fingers gripped his shoulders, nails digging deep into the flesh to send rivulets of blood coursing down his back, but he never felt pain. All his being was centered in his hot cock, about to explode its load within her. Then Suzie went over the top and into her climax. She screamed, bucked, threw her head from side to side. Her mouth brushed against his shoulder and her teeth snapped, sank into his skin and tore it as he ripped himself away. With one convulsive effort he forced her legs away from around his waist and pulled his cock from the hot depths which had held it; heaved himself up in the bed and thrust his cock at her open mouth.
Suzie took it in, deep, sucking it into her mouth like a giant lollipop. Her lips clamped down just as he exploded his load. She swallowed, and his seed trickled down her throat.
For a long time they lay there, side by side in the bed, not touching. Slowly their breathing slowed. The glazed expression left Suzie's face. John's cock dwindled into a soft mound of flesh that rested limply against his thigh. The mattress beneath them was damp, stiffening where the cunt and cunt juice had dried from the heat of their bodies. Suzie's eyes finally flickered open.
"That was quite a performance, stud," she said. "Guess I'll keep you on the payroll for a while."
"Don't I have anything to say about that, lady?" asked John. "Maybe I've been thinking of pulling up stakes, looking for something new."
Suzie smiled, but not so that it would show on her face. She was far too wise in the ways of men to ever allow one of those creatures to penetrate her thoughts. It was obvious from the way he fucked that John wasn't ready to leave her yet. Had he the money, she was certain, he'd have paid handsomely for the privilege of sharing her bed and putting his yearning cock in her love hole. As for the blow job she'd just given him, that alone would be enough for him had she given him the choice. No, a raise would not be necessary for quite some time.
"Are you ready for another, stud?" she whispered. "My cunt is just getting warmed up."
John responded by rolling to face her and taking her into his arms. His mouth felt for her tits and his warm tongue caressed her nipples. He took one between his teeth and bit gently on it, never hurting but still bringing her to that edge of pain which turns mundane sensations to ecstasy. His hand probed between her legs, feeling for her clit. It was slick, greasy with his cum and her juices, slippery between his fingers. Her nails scraped against his back as she reacted to his touch and her legs parted to give him better access. One of her hands left his back and groped between them for his cock. Found it and gripped fast.
"Got a limp dick," she said. "Mustn't let it stay that way." She pumped it slowly between her fingers but it would not react.
John almost panicked. Both his income and his sexual satisfaction depended on the abilities of his mighty cock, and now the damned thing was failing to respond. Usually he could easily come three or four times within a relatively brief period, but this last orgasm had been so mighty that he had been drained completely. There were no more active little sperm cells swimming around in his balls and demanding escape.
He concentrated his thoughts on a hard cock, imagined his favorite erotic fantasies that could always be depended on to harden his cock. John dreamed that three strange women were licking away at his cock and balls together. One was a black woman, tall and willowy, with huge pneumatic tits hot as fire and smooth as satin against his belly. Her ivory teeth nibbled up and down the length of his cock as though they were eating an ear of corn. Her cunt was toward his face and he sniffed at it, allowed its hot and musky aroma to drift through his nostrils. Now he dipped his tongue into the steaming sex vat and licked tightly against the pink clit.
The second woman in his fantasy was Oriental, tiny, slim as a reed and all-knowing about the ways of sex and men. She lay between his legs with his balls in her mouth, and she gently kneaded them against the roof of her mouth with her tongue. At times the pressure of her tongue became intense and the sensation bordered on pain, but always she eased the pressure at the appropriate moment. While she sucked and rolled his balls in her mouth, her enormously long fingernails played up and down the sensitive skin of his thighs, at times digging in to draw blood.
The third woman was Nordic; blonde as ice and voluptuous as a wet dream. She lay beside him, nestled into the space the black woman left. Her soft belly pressed against his cheek and her left hand was pressed beneath him, one long finger probing deep into his asshole. It was an intelligent finger, as though it possessed an eye at its tip and its own brain to direct its activities. It squirmed and probed at his most sensitive areas.
All organs, tongues and mouths, slicing fingernails and probing fingers and biting teeth concentrated their attentions on his cock and balls and ass while he sipped languidly at the brimming cup of cunt that lowered toward his face.
John's imagination worked; his cock stiffened between Suzie's working fingers and began to swell.
"It works every time," said Suzie. "Once I get my hands on a man's cock he's finished. There's nothing else on his mind once I'm working on him. He can't think of anything else. I bet I could give a corpse a hardon."
John didn't bother to respond. He was hard now and that was all that mattered. She arched her cunt upward to meet his thrust and the cock slid home. John pumped slowly at first, then settled into a tempo that brought first moans of pleasure and then gasps of ecstasy from Suzie. He closed his mind to work. He was being paid to fuck and now he worked at it, fucking like a machine. Silently he counted out the strokes.
By the time he reached five hundred his back was aching. It was time to vary the pace if he was to continue, change the angle at which he was driving into her. John allowed his weight to settle onto her body for a moment and reached down with both hands, grasped her legs just above the ankles. With a swift movement he lifted Suzie's legs high and settled them on his shoulders. Once again his arms bore his weight and he was able to push himself forward and above her so that his cock was plunging into her cunt vertically, from above, and she was like a bug impaled upon a pin.
Suzie took to the changed position at once and, with only her shoulders touching the mattress, received him as deep as he could reach. She could feel his cock battering against her insides, stretching them almost to the bursting point. Cunt juice was being whipped almost to a froth at the point where cock and cunt joined together. Her eyes had rolled up into her head so that only the whites were visible. Only savage animal sounds now came from her lips.
John counted past the thousand mark and kept on going. He wouldn't come no matter what demands his body made. No. He would fuck until he passed out or his heart gave in. He would show this woman how a man, a real man, could fuck when his mind was made up. Then Suzie reached down with a free hand between their bodies and grabbed his balls in her hand, squeezed until the pressure built toward the pain point.
"Fuck me doggie style," she whispered.
John pulled his cock from her steaming cunt in a moment. An instant later Suzie had swung her long legs off his shoulders and was rolling on her belly, thrusting her ass high above the mattress. John grabbed her by the hips and drew her ass toward his cock, pressed its tip against her asshole. Suzie stopped him before he could drive it home.
"In the cunt," she cried, almost shouting. "This time give it to me in the cunt."
She reached down and grabbed his cock, taking it directly to the slot between her cunt hairs. The angle was difficult but John rammed it in.
This time her cunt felt tighter for him, gripped his cock more securely. Perhaps it was the angle. He put his hands on her shoulders and forced her head hard against the mattress. Almost upright, cave man style, he rammed it into her. In this position she was almost unable to move and John felt his power over her. There was nothing she could do to stop him, to slow his furious rate of fucking or to throw him off. He was in control as from no other position. With maximum force his cock battered its way deep into her cunt. Slowly he withdrew it for another thrust.
On and on they fucked. John had lost count long ago, but that no longer mattered. He didn't give a damn at this stage about satisfying Suzie, his employer. All his concentration was in his cock and balls, the center of his being. That huge cock of his was getting sensations it had never imagined possible. It felt as though it was being skinned, so hard was its pressure against the walls of her cunt. At the same time it felt as though some mysterious force was pumping pleasure by the barrel into him through its head. Pressure was mounting in his balls until he knew that soon the internal sphincters would release and his cum would be released into her cunt in great gouts. And her cunt was heating, growing physically warmer. Burning his cock.
The heat wasn't entirely in John's imagination. During those few moments when cock was separated from cunt, when they were changing position, Suzie had slipped something into her cunt. That something was a gelatin capsule supplied by a pharmacist she knew and occasionally fucked. His cock was small and his endurance limited, but in return for the pleasures of the body he would occasionally supply her with materials of his own invention, such as that gelatin capsule. It wasn't a drug and it wasn't illegal. It was merely secret, and its effects were different on cocks than on cunts.
Suzie was feeling a lovely warmth that intensified the wave after wave of orgasms that swept through her-which she was counting just as certainly as John was counting the thrusts of his cock. Blinded with pleasure and agonized with ecstasy, a part of her mind kept counting away ... ninety seven ... ninety eight. She was going to reach the hundred mark or kill John in the attempt.
The ninety-ninth time she came Suzie was triumphant. She was going to reach one hundred, which had never happened before. That would be something to tell Larry, the fairy hairdresser who "did" her twice each week. He was "queer," she knew, and drew no pleasure from the act, but whenever he worked on her hair he pressed his cock against her shoulders. Sometimes he massaged her tits beneath the sheet that covered her. Suzie got a kick out of that even though she knew that he fucked only men because it meant that she had power over him, that he was doing it because she was an important customer who had to be pleased. John was a paid servant, too, and this time he was going to please her with one hundred orgasms. She had never managed to reach that total with one man before.
John picked up the beat just as the ninety-ninth orgasm raced through her and Suzie knew that he was about to come himself. She writhed frantically beneath him to slow him down, but he only fucked faster and harder. In their present position she was in his power. There was nothing she could do to stop him. In a last ditch effort Suzie concentrated on her own body, hoping to come just one more time before he finished.
She thought of George, her handyman, back in the city. His black cock was shorter than John's, but much thicker, and he had a special way of wiggling and twisting it while they fucked which was especially delicious. She remembered the feel of Allen's teeth on her clit. Allen was her lawyer, and he had trained himself to lick pussy better than any other man she had ever met. His best performance, though, was when his teeth locked firmly yet gently on her clit and rubbed it between them. The sensation was painful, but only to the point that all her pleasures were intensified.
Nothing worked. Suzie could feel the orgasm rising in her cunt, flowering and about to burst. Then great, hot jets of cum were filling her cunt. John, buried deep inside her, was stiffening and trembling, his entire body locked into immobility by the sensations that were tearing him. "Shit," she thought. "The motherfucker didn't make it."
John was totally out of it. All his concentration was on his cock. It felt as though it was bleeding into Suzie's cunt, but at the same time it was an explosion of heat and light and radiating power. The pleasure of his orgasm started deep within his asshole and worked outward to spray explosively from his cock. He had never spurted so much cum before, never jetted so copiously. It felt as though his life was shooting out of him and would be lost when the spasms came to a halt. Then they ended, and he toppled sideways, his shrinking cock pulling free of her cunt.
They lay there for more than an hour, side by side and silent, neither moving. John drifted off into a deep sleep while the last of his cum dribbled from his cock and soaked the mattress.
Suzie was awake and alert, though unmoving. Her first thought was to once again attack John's cock with her fingers, stimulate it once more to hardness and a final attack on her cunt. But even as Suzie planned to grasp John's cock she knew that the attempt would be futile. He wouldn't be able to get it up again for hours, and by then it would be too late. She would have to start the count all over again and this time she wouldn't even come close to the hundred mark.
Suzie thought briefly of getting her vibrator, and finishing off the job that way, but it would require too much effort. Besides, the vibrator was for those rare times when she was alone, without man or woman to attend to her physical needs. It was a tool for emergency use, for the times when she had to get her rocks off and there was no one to do it for her.
Suzie thought again about that magic hundred orgasm mark and wondered if it would be possible to have a machine built that could do the job for her. She was determined to make that hundred orgasms in one burst of sexual activity because she knew that it could be done. She had read about it in books, read that there were women who claimed to have done it on more than one occasion. There was always the possibility that they were not telling the truth, of course, but they did have expert testimony to back up their claims. There were respected experts in the field of sex who said that theoretically, at least, there was no limit to the number of times a healthy woman could come ... given the right stimulation. Well, she was as healthy as a woman of twenty four could be. The answer could only be that she hadn't found the right stimulation. John was good, possibly even great, as a fucker, but obviously he was not the best. Perhaps she would have to try several men in rotation; not as she had done in the past, at orgies, where the objective was not necessarily to come but to suck as many cocks as possible and take into her cunt as many different cocks as could be found hard and willing.
Suzie seldom came more than a few times at these affairs. The objectives of the women present were to make whoever the sex partner of the moment was come. The objectives of the men were to resist orgasms, to keep their cocks hard through as many different women as the evening offered. The men and women who regularly attended these parties were all experienced and knew the rules of the game, so in their company the magic goal of one hundred orgasms would remain as remote as ever.
"Maybe I ought to try Tahiti," Suzie thought. "I hear that the men there have more endurance than Western men.
I'll ask Arnie to find me a script set in Tahiti."
Arnie was her agent, the man who found scripts which best displayed her acting talents and then negotiated deals to finance the films so that a maximum quantity of money found its way into Suzie's bank account. He got ten percent of everything for this, but Suzie knew that without Arnie she would be just another bit player, hooking occasionally on the side to meet her rent payments. Blowing casting directors for walk-on parts. He had brought her from squalid furnished rooms and a life as a part time whore to dizzying fame and enormous wealth. Everything she was and had she owed to Arnie.
Arnie knew everything there was to know about her life, public and private. He knew about her goal of coming one hundred times in one fucking session and thought nothing odd about it. In fact, it had been Arnie who suggested John Holmes as a possible method of reaching that goal.
"Ellen Longstreet, the model, tells me that he's the best cocksman she's ever had," he told Suzie, "and she's had them all. Now she's getting married to some oil millionaire and she'll have to give him up. Say the word and I'll call her and have him sent over for an interview."
"What do I say to him?" Suzie asked. "I never had to pay a man to fuck me before."
"You hire him as a bodyguard," replied Arnie. "Besides, you need one with all the money you're making and he's supposed to be a good one. He's strong, has a black belt in something or other. Best of all he doesn't talk about the women he works for. Ellen only heard about him through another broad he was working for. They say he can out-fuck anything but a machine."
Suzie believed in Arnie and accepted his advice. She would do anything Arnie suggested. If he wanted it, she would even allow him to fuck her, although she was certain that no pleasure could be derived from the act. Arnie was short and fat and balding. He wore thick glasses and stuttered slightly when he was excited. She supposed that his cock was short and thin and soft even when it was hard, just like the rest of Arnie. No, Arnie would never do as a lover, but the logic of his advice was inescapable.
The appointment for the interview had been made by Arnie, though Suzie was to conduct it. Suzie smiled secretly to herself as she remembered how that interview had gone.
CHAPTER TWO
The interview had taken place at Suzie's mountain retreat, where she spent at least half the time when not acting. The place, though rustic, was equipped with every modern amenity, including an airstrip where visitors could land their planes. Suzie did not have her own aircraft, but occasionally chartered one when she wished to save time, as the retreat was at least ten hours by car from Hollywood over poorly maintained mountain roads. By air she could be there in less than two hours. On this occasion, as the interview had been by her invitation, she arranged to have John Holmes flown to the cabin ... if the sprawling, six thousand square foot house could indeed be termed a cabin.
Louise, the maid, conducted John Holmes to the place where Suzie was waiting for him, which was not quite what he expected. Most employment interviews are conducted in something resembling a business atmosphere; Suzie conducted as much business as possible while reclining in her wooden tub filled with hot water and concealing suds.
John recognized the face immediately, as would anyone in America who attended motion pictures with any regularity. The perfect oval face with mouth and lips a trifle exaggerated, just enough so that every red blooded male in the audience would think instantly of how they would feel sucking hard on his cock. That was what John felt as he introduced himself, the imagined sucking of that mouth.
Invisible beneath the soapy water was, he knew, the body that had made its owner a millionaire many times over, the perfect body of Hollywood's reigning queen. He also knew that soon Suzie would be his. Women who wanted only bodyguards could hire better ones at far lower rates. Women who hired John were really hiring his cock. He had a reputation and he delivered. He could get it up and plug it in for a hag as easily as for a beauty. John occasionally got the hags, but a surprising number of beautiful women were willing to pay hard cash for the privilege of receiving his cock into their cunts, and often into their mouths. This one would too, or she would not have asked him to this interview.
"I understand that you're a karate expert," Suzie opened the interview.
"I am, miss," John answered, "but I'm a good deal more than that."
"Oh, really?" asked Suzie archly. "Do you have some other specialties that make you more desirable? As a bodyguard, that is."
John decided to take control of the situation. "You wouldn't have asked me out here, miss, if you hadn't already decided to hire me," he said.
"I haven't decided," Suzie answered, "and I won't until I get the answers I want. What will you do besides guard me?"
"Anything you ask me to do that's legal," John answered, "or at least that's reasonable close to legal."
"That's not good enough, Mr. Holmes," she said. There was an edge to her voice now. "I want you to tell me exactly what you do best."
"I fuck," he said, finally. "I probably fuck better than any other man on the coast."
"I don't have to pay men to fuck me," she responded. "If that was all I wanted I could fuck forever, and they would pay me. I need a better answer than that."
"Okay, lady," John answered, finally deciding to lay it on the line. "I'll fuck you when and where you want it, how you want it. And I'll eat you, too, under the same conditions. You want me to go down on you, lick your cunt at Hollywood and Vine at high noon? that's what you'll get."
"Done," said Suzie, climbing out of the tub. "You're hired. Now start eating."
The waiting plane had been sent away empty and John had spent the rest of the day with his mouth locked to Suzie's hot cunt. He had nibbled on her clit, shoved his stiffened tongue as deep into her slot as it would reach while probing into her ass with one finger. Suzie had writhed in ecstasy, climax after climax had shaken her, but she had refused to allow him to fuck her. That would wait for another day. For a while, at least, she would taunt her new employee.
John had finally pleaded with her for release. "My balls are going to turn blue and drop off, Suzie," he had said, "unless I can come. At least let me jerk off."
Suzie had relented enough to allow John to strip. Now she paused to inspect closely the weapon of the cocksman she had hired. She reached out and stroked it slowly, allowing her fingers to play up and down the shaft of his cock. It was as long and thick as any she had ever seen, and far harder beneath the velvet softness of its skin.
"I can see that all this has been a bit hard on you, dear boy," she said, playing with the words, "but I'm paying for my own pleasure and not yours. However, I won't torment you any longer." She picked up a phone from the table beside the tub and dialed the house. "George," she spoke into the phone, "send out Louise. Tell her that I have a task for her."
Louise joined them in a moment, a dark and slender young woman perhaps three years younger than her mistress. "You called for me, Miss?"
"Yes, Louise," Suzie answered. "I have a chore for you. John is all worked up from licking my cunt and will be very uncomfortable for hours unless he gets his rocks off. I want you to fuck him, right here on the grass."
A gentle smile lit Louise's face as she studied John from head to foot, her eyes lingering on his swollen cock. Without saying a word she slowly undid the front of her blouse and slipped it off. Large, firm breasts jutted from her chest, their nipples rosy in the sunlight and erect. With an equally graceful motion Louise stepped out of her skirt and then slipped off the bikini bottom she wore. In nothing but her high heeled shoes she stood there waiting. Then she lay back on the grass without a word, raising her knees and spreading her legs wide. Her cunt could be seen peeping from the thick bush of black hair that shrouded it, and it was obvious that her cunt was wet and ready for John.
"Louise is always ready," Suzie said, as though reading his mind. "I have never known any woman so ready to fuck, except myself, of course. You may proceed."
John was between Louise's legs in a moment while she reached for his cock with one hand. Suzie stopped them. "Let me do it," she said, and then carefully guided John's huge cock to its nesting place in Louise's cunt. John poised himself for a moment and then plunged it home.
Louise convulsed as the giant cock plunged into her. Her mouth opened and a moan of pleasure escaped. Suzie dragged up a chair so that she could observe the couple fucking in comfort. She knew that John was far too excited to last long at this encounter, but she wanted to watch him in action. There would be plenty of time later for him to work his magic in her cunt. This time was an audition, and as Suzie was paying the price she had a right to set the terms. She settled back to watch.
One reason for John's great skill at fucking was his excellent physical condition. It was obvious, Suzie observed, that he exercised regularly and was careful in his diet. But many men are good athletes and poor fuckers. John, on the other hand, was a master. He drove his cock in with powerful precision, rocking his hips forward while his strong arms supported him above Louise. His cock, which was far longer and thicker than Suzie had ever seen before, pistoned smoothly into Louise's cunt like part of a well oiled machine. There was no expression on his face as he fucked, as though he needed to concentrate his thoughts inward.
John fucked at a slow but steady pace, instead of pumping his cock in and out as fast as possible, like most men do. It was obvious that he cared about the pleasure his woman received and was determined to do his best for her. Every so often his eyes would close and his pace would slow, as though he was about to come and was concentrating on holding it off as long as possible. But there are limits to human endurance, and John had been heavily engaged in sexual activity for hours before fucking Louise. The girl had only come a half a dozen times or so when it became evident that John couldn't last much longer. Beads of sweat broke out all over his body. His arms, supporting him, began to tremble. His face flushed. His eyes closed and stayed that way. He began to grunt as he fucked, timing the noises with the increasingly rapid pace at which his cock thrust home.
Suzie leaned forward and placed her hand beneath John's balls, gently hefting them without interfering with his fucking. She squeezed them lightly, smiling, then slid one finger forward and alongside the shaft of his cock so that it plunged in and out of Louise as they fucked.
Finally, John could contain himself no longer. His pace changed from a steady plunging to a frantic struggle to shove his cock as deep as possible into Louise. He threw his head back and his mouth opened. Suzie could feel his balls retract, draw up toward his body just before the eruption. Then, with a moaning gasp, John threw his cock into Louise as deep as possible and stayed there, rocking his hips from side to side.
Suzie felt the deep throbbing as cum shot from his cock in powerful jets. It trickled out of Louise's cunt and gushed over Suzie's hand. Louise came one more time at the impact of John's cum in her cunt and then wrapped her legs tight around his waist, holding him there with crossed ankles. Finally, slowly, Louise's legs released him and John toppled over on his side, his shrinking cock dragging limply from her cunt, which remained open and quivering slightly, as though gasping for the return of the organ that had so recently filled in to the brim.
Later, as they sipped cold drinks together in the patio, Suzie told John that she had been impressed with his performance. Louise had been dismissed and sent back to her duties, so the two were alone together and could speak freely.
"That's quite a prick you have there," Suzie said, "and you seem to know how to use it. That looked like the best fucking poor Louise has had since she lost her cherry."
"Yeah," replied John. "I'm good. Fucking is what I do best and I don't mind getting paid for it. Why shouldn't I. If a top athlete can get paid big money for playing what's really a kid's game, and if an actress like yourself can get rich making believe that she's someone else in front of a camera, why shouldn't a guy who can fuck better than any man alive get paid for it?"
"Any man alive?" she asked.
"So far as I know," he answered. "And enough women have told me how good I am and that I have reason to believe it."
"What do you call enough women, John?" Suzie asked, "and how do you know that they're qualified to judge?" Suzie was really taunting him a bit, teasing him. She had already decided that, as a lover, John Holmes was undoubtedly in a class by himself. Had contests been held in such skills, John would surely have made the Olympic team. He was definitely gold medal material.
"I figure that since I first became able to get it up, to have a hard on, I've probably fucked about two thousand women, almost all of them older than myself. Every one of them who commented on my fucking said that I was the best they'd ever had, and by a large margin. Even if they've fucked fewer men than I've fucked women-and that's un-likely because women can take one hell of a lot more fucking than men, more even than I can-I'm being compared to more than a million men. If there's a better cocksman than I am, I've never heard of him."
"Well, you're not exactly modest," commented Suzie, "but modesty has no place in our business. Incidentally, how would you like to act in films?"
"That would be great, Suzie." John was gripped by enthusiasm. "Would you really get me into your next movie?"
Suzie laughed. "You're no actor, John, but that cock of yours certainly qualifies as a paid performer. I have a friend who makes sex movies and he's always looking for new actors. He especially needs guys who can get it up and keep it up for hours, and if they have big cocks, like yours, they're even more valuable. And the pay is good."
John thought for a moment, then decided. "No, Suzie," he said, "at least not right now. Later, maybe, I might be interested, but right now I want to take care of you." He reached out and gently covered her hand with his own.
She pulled her hand away sharply and laughed at him. "Don't try to con me, John. I know what you're after and you'll never get it. I'm hiring you to guard me and to fuck and suck me on command, and that's all. Don't get any notions about you and me being a romantic couple. I've never loved any man and I probably never will, least of all you. Now get some clothes on before your prick catches cold. I'm paying good money for the use of it and I want it in prime condition. You'll fuck no one else without my permission. You'll live wherever I do and you'll travel with me. I expect you to drive my car and be my regular escort at parties. Is it a deal?"
John thought for a long moment and then extended his hand. "It's a deal, let's shake on it."
The weeks that had followed that agreement were the most sexually satisfying that Suzie could remember. John was already familiar with what she wanted in the way of sexual stimulation and became more adept at meeting her demands as time passed. She liked to have a man go down on her, regularly, several times each day. This seemed to relieve the tensions developed by her work. When she was doing a film, John waited in her dressing room. After each shooting session she would return to the room vibrating with nervous tension. Stripping off her costume, she would throw herself down on the bed in her dressing room and spread her raised legs. John would crouch between them, tongue deep in her cunt, lapping away the tensions, until the knock came indicating that another shooting session was about to begin.
Occasionally she would demand that John fuck her after a cuntlicking session, and by this means she gradually developed greater fondness for his cock. Sometimes she would mount him and squatting slowly, allow the full length of his shaft to drive deep within her. Then she would rock slowly back and forth, rubbing his shaft against her clit or reaching down to finger herself while they fucked. He would brace her upright, hands against her magnificent tits, nipples against his palms, while she worked on him. She would quit when she was satisfied, not he, and often he would jerk off in solitude to release the tensions she had produced in him. It was either that or suffer the pains of "blue balls," that malady familiar to all adolescent boys.
When Suzie was feeling lazy, and didn't care to make any physical effort while fucking, John would be told to climb into the missionary position. She would lie there while he pumped away, spasming occasionally when the orgasms pumped through her, saying nothing. When she sensed that he was about to come she would reach down and squeeze the base of his cock until the tensions eased and he could fuck again.
Each time they fucked the pleasure mounted for Suzie, though John may have felt more deprived. The other women he had serviced had allowed him to dominate their sexual activities, so that even though they paid him, and he worked for them, once they were fucking he was in command.
But control of Suzie eluded him. Occasionally, for a moment or two, she seemed to melt toward him. He could feel her fingers gliding tenderly over his back as they fucked, feel her warm breath in his ear. But always, as the time approached for him to release his load into her cunt, she had drawn back and quit before he could come.
Then, one day several weeks after he had been hired, he managed to touch something buried deep in Suzie's unconscious. They were in her custom made bed, at her Beverly Hills home, and he was gently licking at the pink lips of her cunt. Love juices from her cock hole dampened the sheets. His hands cupped her ass as he worked and he could feel the play of her firm muscles as each orgasm swept through her. It was just an ordinary afternoon and he was earning his salary.
Suddenly, Suzie moaned softly, which was not unusual when she was coming. This time, however, she twisted in the bed so that her body was now parallel with John's and they were head to toe. Now she pulled her cunt away from his mouth. "Lie back a moment, John," she said. "I want to look at you."
John lay back and closed his eyes. She had examined his cock before, sometimes quite closely, and if she wanted to do it again that was strictly her affair. He was therefore quite surprised at the warm, wet tightness that suddenly enclosed the head of his cock. Suzie was sucking him off!
It had never happened before. Certainly he had shoved his cock past countless of willing lips and jetted his cum down as many throats. Some of those lips had been not so willing-at first-and John had practically been forced to rape their mouths. One woman had even bitten down on him, and only the thickness and hardness of his cock had saved him from being injured. She had apologised, later, and had given him one of the best blow jobs he could remember. But this was Suzie, the hard woman who paid only for her personal pleasures and never expected her to suck his cock, and that fact made the pleasure even more intense.
He moved his head back toward her cunt, intending to make the action mutual, but she stopped him. She released his cock from her mouth and whispered to him. "Just lay back, John, and let me do this. I owe it to you, I guess."
Then there was silence and her mouth once more enclosed his tool. She crouched between his legs now, for better access to his member, and looking down the length of his body John could see her lips inching higher on his cock. He was amazed at how much of it she had swallowed.
Suzie had learned the trick that circus sword swallowers know. She could accept things deep into her throat without gagging, and now she accepted the awesome length of John's cock. Her lips clamped tight around the base of it, where no woman's lips had ever wrapped themselves before. It was the most marvelous sexual sensation John had ever known. He closed his eyes and lay back to enjoy the rest of it.
For long moments Suzie merely held the great length of his cock in her mouth and throat, letting it rest there while her mouth compressed it. Then, slowly, her tongue began to work against its shaft. Then her teeth closed so that they scratched ever so slightly against the skin of his cock. Finally, she raised her head and allowed it to slide out of her throat and mouth until only its thick and rosy head was between her lips. She paused at that point a moment, tasting him, and then plunged her head down to engulf it again.
Time after time this was repeated, until finally John felt the tensions mounting within him. Suzie sensed that he would soon be coming, but she never changed her pace. Up and down her head moved. Her right hand crept out to cup his balls so that she might know the exact moment that he was about to come. The other hand moved to the slot of his ass. A finger was groping for his asshole. He ralaxed his thighs and spread them wider to assist her.
Finally the finger found the spot and pressed, probed half an inch toward his bowels. The sphincter tightly resisted her efforts and John desperately drove his mind to release the muscular tension there. Finally he succeeded and Suzie's finger was within him. He was getting the greatest blow job of his life while being finger fucked in the ass by one of Hollywood's greatest stars. What more could a man ask of life?
The sensations continued to mount. Now they were centered in his ass, now in his cock, now suffused throughout his body. His hips began to move, involuntarily, driven by something far below the conscious level. His hand crept down and held the back of Suzie's head, so that her mouth could not leave his cock. But Suzie apparently had no desire to stop sucking him. Her head kept up its rhythmic bobbing. Her teeth continued to scratch the shaft of his cock. Her finger kept probing deep in his bowels.
The eruption, when it came, was like nothing John had ever known before. The cum spurting in hard jets from his cock seemed to have its source deep within his bowels where her finger still probed. His balls throbbed in her hand as their contents were expelled like gouts from a flamethrower. Pulse after violent pulse beat through his cock, which seemed to grow in size within Suzie's mouth. John could not see the beatific smile that spread across Suzie's face as she swallowed the steaming juices. He was too blind with sensation to be aware of the softness with which she stroked his relaxing balls.
Afterward, while John lay there on the bed with all energies drained, Suzie brought a cool cloth and wiped his face. She wiped all the sweat away from his body. Brought him a cold drink and propped up his head while he sipped it. Then she left him alone in the bedroom, to sleep, perhaps, or to ponder over the meaning of his experience.
From that time onward the relationship between Suzie and John was one of mutual tenderness and admiration. Their pleasures were mutual instead of one-sided and Suzie discovered that her orgasms were deeper and more intense once she had settled into an emotional relationship with John. Through caring about his satisfaction she increased her own, to the point where her goal of finally achieving the magic hundred mark in total orgasms during one sexual encounter appeared possibly within reach.
As for John, he discovered that he really cared about bringing pleasure to his employer. She was more than a boss, more than the source of his excellent income. (It was the most money he had ever earned in his life, although to Suzie, of course, it was petty cash.' He even dared hope that some day she would wish to make their relationship public and permanent. He visualized the headlines when their engagement was announced and let himself daydream about the acting jobs marriage to Suzie would eventually lead to. It still rankled him a bit that she, a mere woman, was not only his boss, but commanded an income that made his appear pitiful in comparison. He wanted to be famous, to be worthy of her in his own right and not just as a hired cock that brought her satisfaction.
Also, deep down in the remotest depths of his mind, where even he did not dare to look deeply, he wanted to dominate this woman whose flesh drew him so strongly. He wanted to be her master.
Their business and pleasure involvement continued for months and to John, at least, his goal appeared to be approaching. Suzie came to depend on him for more than just protection and his cock. She began to ask his opinion of business matters, of scripts. She allowed him to offer advice on clothing and occasionally accepted it. Most important, she allowed him to take the lead in sex. She began to place the importance of his pleasure above her own. He first achieved true dominance over her one night at a party thrown by certain of her friends in the film industry to celebrate the release of her latest film.
Suzie entered the party on John's arm, stunning in a skin-tight silver lame outfit of tights and blouse. It was obvious from the way they fitted that she had been sewn into them and that she wore not a stitch beneath them. They were so tight one could almost count the pores of her skin through the cloth. The mound of her cunt was clearly outlined and, as she had shaved that area to wear them, one could distinctly see the lips of her cunt. Her clit made a tiny bulge against the fabric. There wasn't a man at the party who did not get an instant hardon at the sight of her. A well known producer took one look and then came in his pants, the stain obvious against his pale blue slacks.
Suzie had to dance with every male present and additional stains appeared as the evening progressed. She preferred dancing close to slow music, grinding her hips into her partner's and rubbing her tits against his chest, with an effect that can only be imagined.
There were other women at the party, of course, many of them rivals for success in the fantasy world of Hollywood, but none could match her in beauty or imaginativeness of costume. Any of them, naturally, could at least equal her in brazenness of behavior, and soon the dance floor was filled with couples rubbing against and groping each other. It was obvious that the party was on its way to becoming one of the film industry's famous orgies.
The air was dry and slightly warm. Cold champagne flowed in a never ending stream. Inhibitions, if the people present could really be said to have any, disappeared as if by magic.
One of the men started it first, ripping off his shirt to dance bared from the waist up. Within moments every other man present had followed this lead and the women began to emulate them-all except Suzie. Someone dimmed the lights slightly and now the dance floor was filled with languid couples, clasping each other closely, not one except Suzie covered at all from the waist up. Lips were pressed to nipples as they danced, while hands groped daringly between parting thighs.
John, dancing with the hostess, felt her hand delicately unzip his pants and grope within them. First they stroked his cock to the beat of the music, trying desperately to coax him into shooting his load, but John was a master at resisting orgasm. He smiled at the lady and whispered into her ear as they danced, "You'll have to do better than that. Sometimes I don't even come when Suzie's blowing me."
Ellen, the hostess and one of Suzie's best known rivals, was determined not to be outdone and it was she who actually got the orgy off the ground. There, in the center of the dance floor, she stood and shouted.
"Stop the music," she yelled. Then when she had the attention of everyone present, she threw down the gauntlet. "This joker here says that I can't make him come. I'm going to show him and that broad he works for what a real woman is.
"Bring some pillows," she shouted to her servants, "and spread them out in the center of the floor." Then to John, "Okay, drop your pants, buddy. You're going to come so fast you won't know what hit you."
Game for anything-and at a signal of consent from Suzie-John stripped off his pants, shoes and socks and stood nude in the center of the dance floor. The rest of the guests drew up in a silent circle to watch. Ellen settled to her knees in front of John and took his cock in both her hands.
For long minutes she fondled it, stroked it, milked it between her nimble fingers. It grew slightly larger, but not a trace of cum appeared. She scratched his cock with her sharp fingernails. Nothing happened. Finally, she raised his weapon to her lips. Her mouth opened wide to accept the swollen head of his cock and encompassed it. Slowly, she worked part of the shaft into her mouth and began to tongue him. It was obvious to everyone that he filled her mouth entirely although two thirds of his cock shaft had still been untouched. She took his balls in her hands and massaged them while she sucked, but gradually the expression on John's face changed to one of acute boredom. It was becoming obvious to all the assembled guests that she was accomplishing little.
"Ellen will never learn that she just doesn't know how to suck cock," her husband shouted from the rear of the throng. "Even our maid can do a better job. You're going to have to fuck him, honey," he shouted again.
Ellen was determined to succeed. She released her mouth grip on John's cock and lay back on the cushions. With one swift motion she reached up and grabbed John by the cock, dragged him down on top of herself, guided his cock to the panting lips of her cunt which were dripping with expectation.
John rocked his hips forward and rammed his cock in to the hilt. Ellen screamed in pleasure and pumped her hips up to meet his. For fifteen minutes they pounded away at each other, whipping Ellen's love juice to a foam. Time after time she came, screaming her pleasures aloud with each orgasm. John's face was expressionless and his beat never faltered. Like a machine he kept ramming his great cock into her foaming cunt and time after time she convulsed in ecstasy. Expressions of approval began to be heard, and of admiration.
"I wouldn't have believed that anyone could fuck like that," one lovely starlet said in awe.
"If I offered him a million," a man muttered, "do you think that he'd agree to a cock switch? My plastic surgeon could do the job."
"If all men fucked like that I'd switch," said a famous Hollywood columnist, noted for her lesbianism.
"Oh, what a sweetheart he would be in bed," said the film industry's most potent male box office star, who lived in a vast mansion staffed entirely with young men who wore very tight pants, but only in public.
John continued pumping away and Ellen began to whimper. It almost seemed as though she was in pain from the continuous fucking. She determined to end it, to finish John off. Her legs came up and wrapped themselves around John's waist. Her ankles crossed and locked. Now she picked up the beat, pumping her hips up and down so fast that John had difficulty matching her pace.
She began thrashing from side to side, rocking further over each time. Finally she rolled John completely over without releasing him from the lock of her legs, then rolled further so that she was straddling him while he lay flat on his back. Settling herself so that his cock was as deep within her as possible, she began to rock her hips forward and back. For a moment John's eyes closed and his body began to relax. At last Ellen was getting to him. Then Suzie's voice was heard from the back of the crowd.
"Don't do it, John," she shouted. "If you love me you won't come while you're fucking that whore."
A look of grim determination appeared on John's face. His lips thinned and his jaws clamped together. Now it was him who was forcing the pace. His hands gripped her by the hips and lifted her up and down on his cock. Each time she came down he pumped hard upward at her, driving his cock into her, slamming it home. Ellen's jaw sagged. Her eyes rolled upward into her face so that only the whites were visible. She was coming again.
Finally, even Ellen had enough. Her moans of pleasure began to be heard as moans of pain. At long last she tore herself away from him and rolled over, collapsing face down on the floor, sobbing. John had fucked her out. He had taken everything she could deliver and bested her, something she had often boasted that no man living could ever do.
There were volunteers to take her place. The women present were stripping away the last of their clothing, clawing at each other as they battled to see who would be the next to take on John. Suzie watched from the side of the room and allowed them to do as they pleased.
The columnist, the lesbian, was suddenly pushed to the center of the battling throng by the men in the room. She appeared to be fighting them off, but it was obvious from the halfhearted way that she struggled, that what she really wanted was a shot at John's cock. She stared at it like a bird at a snake, mesmerized.
The columnist was far from a beautiful woman, but her body was muscular and her legs trim and powerful. She lay on her back while the women, getting into the spirit of things, dragged John to her and settled him into the saddle. The columnist gripped him in a scissor lock and pumped powerfully away. John had her into orgasm in moments. Soon she was grunting in time to his powerful lunges while her lover of the moment, a slim, dark girl who had dreams of fame as an actress, wept in a corner of the room. It was obvious that the columnist was getting fucked better by John than she ever had been by the women she usually took as lovers. Finally she, too, called it quits and pushed John off.
More women wanted him, but it was obvious that even John's stamina had been strained to the utmost. His knees bucked as he tried to stand and he had to be helped to the cushions by the other men present. Suzie came over with a fresh bottle of champagne and poured a glass for him. Then she turned and made her own announcement to the room.
"Now that you've all seen what John can do," she said, "I'll tell you why he can do it. It's because there's only one woman in this room who he really cares for, and who genuinely cares for him. For the past three months he's been the only man in my life and I've been the only woman in his. I haven't come with another man since I met him."
"If he'll let me, I'll show you all that there's nothing wrong with him, that with the right woman he can come easily." Then, turning back to John, she asked, "May I blow you, darling?"
John was too tired to speak, but he nodded permission. Suzie, still fully dressed, sank to her knees between his thighs. She asked for a napkin and, soaking it in champagne, gently wiped the thick coating of love juice from his throbbing cock. Then she lowered her head and slowly sucked the entire length of his cock into her mouth and throat, stopping only when his cock hairs pressed against her lips and she could take him in no deeper. She held him there a moment, then began fucking him slowly with her mouth.
John shuddered, groaned. His entire body tensed, then spasmed as the orgasm shook him and he shot his load down her throat. She released him and he fell back, cock shrinking.
John and Suzie sat there on the cushions in the center of the room, passing the bottle of champagne back and forth. Around them the orgy whirled, a writhing mass of fucking, sucking, probing, biting and orgasming bodies. Some were in daisy chains of a dozen or more. Here and there couples fucked each other, sometimes with the man on top and sometimes with the woman. The columnist was off in a corner with her mouth buried in her lover's cunt while the girl, still weeping, clutched her by the hair and moaned that no one loved her.
The man who wanted a cock transplant had his own cock buried deep in the cunt of a girl who was blowing the producer who had first come in his pants, apparently not caring that the pederastic film star had his cock buried in the would-be transplantee's asshole.
Through it all Suzie and John, with Suzie still fully clothed, sat in the center of the room sipping champagne and watching. There was no need for either of them to participate further in the orgy. They had each other.
CHAPTER THREE
From that time onward John and Suzie were seen everywhere in public together. Columnists began hinting that marriage between them, or at least the announcement of one, would soon be forthcoming. There were even rumors circulating that John was going to star in Suzie's next picture. They were the ideal couple of the motion picture industry and millions of fans wrote asking for photographs of them together.
There might have been such a film and such a marriage, had John not been driven by his desperate need to prove himself not merely her equal, but her superior. He had to have Suzie accept him as her master, prove to her that he could more than equal her success. It was that driving ambition that led to his eventual fall from her affections.
It started innocently enough, with an enterprising producer intent in cashing in on the publicity John and Suzie's affair had aroused. He assumed, correctly, that John was a potential box office attraction, and that he and Suzie together in a film would reap enormous financial success. He offered his script to Suzie, who read it and was at once aware of its weaknesses. There was no coherence to the script and production costs would have been impossibly high. It was merely an exploitation film script, hastily assembled to cash in on the fame of its presumed stars. Suzie turned it down after only brief consideration.
All would have been well between the lovers had that been the end of the matter, but the producer made one more attempt to lure them into his net. He approached John with the script, making no mention of the fact that Suzie had already rejected it.
John was more vulnerable than Suzie. He lacked any real knowledge of the film industry and, in particular, lacked the ability to tell a good script from a bad one. He could not estimate production costs and weigh them against potential profits. He could not read the lines and see them as they would sound and look projected on the silver screen. He did read the line in the offered contract which spelled out the payment he would receive for performing, and recognized it as exactly equal to what Suzie would get. He signed that contract, of course, and told the producer that he would tell Suzie to sign it also. He never read the small print which specified that he would receive a much smaller sum if Suzie failed to agree. He certainly never thought of having an attorney read the contract before he signed it.
Suzie was furious when he broke the news to her. She would not agree to perform under any conditions. John could act in it or not, as he pleased, but he would do it without her. No, she would not leave him if he made a fool of himself by acting in it, but neither would she support him, particularly since he now had an income of his own.
John was furious when he learned that under the terms of the contract that income would actually be less than the salary he received from Suzie. He tried to back out of the deal, but the attorney he hired to break the contract (John was getting wiser now) informed him that, while it could be broken, he would never be able to act in another film in the future. John weighed the paltry salary against his imagined career and resolved to go ahead with the film.
From the day shooting started the relationship between John and Suzie began to drift apart. Ellen, Suzie's rival, the woman who had all but raped him that night at the orgy, had been signed to play the role which Suzie had refused and, sensing the relationship between John and Suzie might be breaking up, did her best to widen the gap.
Ellen was in John's dressing room whenever she could manage it. She advised him on acting techniques, assisted him with his costumes, coached him with his lines. She also took every opportunity to lure him into her bed. She would adjust his costume and allow her hands to travel gently across his crotch. She would wear her most provocative gowns to his dressing room-with not a stitch beneath them-and sit so that he could glimpse her nipples, or the curly hairs around her cunt. She would remind him occasionally of the orgy where they had met and compliment him on his enormous sexual talents.
John knew what Ellen was after and determined to fend her off, but a stiff cock has no conscience. Despite all his efforts to remain calm she was able to arouse him, and the day came when he could resist her no longer.
They were together in his dressing room after a long day and countless retakes. John was at best a poor actor and the director, in desperation, had cut his lines into small bits that could be shot separately and then assembled in the cutting room. This demanded many takes and, at the end of the day, sweat was pouring from John's body. He sat in his dressing room, wrapped only in a towel, resting, when Ellen walked in.
Ellen was dressed in her usual fashion; a sheer gown with nothing visible beneath it but her skin. Rosy nipples jutted perkily against the thin fabric. In her hand was in ice bucket and in the bucket a magnum of Cordon Bleu champagne. By the time half a dozen glasses had been drunk John's towel was on the floor and Ellen was nestled beside him, slowly stroking his rising cock. John thought of Suzie momentarily, of the way she loved him, of their agreement to forget the orgies and the constant round of lovers each had known and to come to each other only for sexual release. Then he thought of the way she had failed to support him in his search for a career of his own. His resolve wavered. At that moment Ellen asked if she might pour some champagne over his cock.
"Why would you want to do that?" he asked.
"So that I can lick it off, silly," she replied.
John watched in utter fascination as Ellen slipped from the seat beside him and knelt before him, champagne bottle in hand. Slowly she poured the bubbling fluid over his cock. It tingled, and the sensation was just enough to bring him to full hardness. Then her cat-like tongue slipped from between her lips and began lapping at the wine.
"Nothing stimulates a cock like a new cunt," is an ancient expression, and Ellen's was practically new to John. Their one previous sexual encounter had been at an orgy, and orgies are impersonal affairs where human bodies are tools to be used for pleasure only. They possess no personalities when submerged in the mass frenzy of an orgy, The Ellen whose tongue lapped at his cock, curled around the head, lolled down its shaft, was not the frenzied tongue that had tried to take him to orgasm months earlier. The teeth that nibbled at his dong were as though they had never been there before. The hands that cupped his balls were unfamiliar hands that had never visited his body. In moments, John was fully aroused. From that moment onward nothing could have stopped him.
He grabbed her head between his hands and held it immobile, with just the head of his cock between Ellen's ruby lips. Then, very slowly, he pressed the head toward himself. His great cock slid deep between her lips effortlessly.
Ellen had been practicing long for this day. As the tip of John's cock nudged the back of her throat the muscles there relaxed, just as "Suzie's did under similar circumstances. Her eyes closed in ecstasy. She had John, had him firmly in her mouth, and this time he would not escape coming within her. Ellen gave no thought to personal physical pleasure. Getting John to come was the one idea that filled her. That would bring many triumphs. She would have defeated Suzie, her only real rival in the industry. She would have taken away from Suzie her most precious possession, the love of John Holmes. And she would have gathered within herself the ultimate power a woman can possess over a man, the power to control him sexually. She gave herself up to the rhythm of John's demands.
Soon Ellen's flaming lipstick was smeared up and down the length of John's cock. Ellen's mouth was like an open wound with the vast bulk of John's cock the weapon that had wounded her. Her tongue massaged the root of that vast organ as John pumped into her face. There was no restraining him. Within minutes he was jetting gouts of cum into her throat and mouth. Ellen finally pulled her head away and reached up her face for him to kiss it. John tasted the muskiness of his cum on her lips. Ellen whispered to him.
"That's your own cum you taste on my lips. Now put it in my cunt with your tongue," she said. "I want your cum in my cunt. Put it there with your tongue."
Then, with one motion, she tore the gown from her body and lay back on the carpeted, dressing room floor. She spread wide her thighs and raised her knees, so that John could see the lips of her cunt peeping invitingly from the jungle of curly black hair that surrounded them. She reached up with both hands and grasped him by the ears, dragged his mouth down, toward her cunt, closer and closer, until finally he lunged across the remaining distance and buried his face in her snatch.
For a while nothing could be heard in the dressing room but slobbering, slurping noises as John ate Ellen's pussy. Her thighs tightened in a vise-like grip around his head and held him there, but John was making no attempts to get away. All his concentration was on her clit, the center of her pleasures, and she bucked and twisted in orgasm after orgasm while John worked on her. She came much faster than Suzie ever had, if not as intensely.
Suddenly her thighs released their grip on his head and her hands pushed him away. "The champagne," she gasped. "Get the champagne from my cunt."
Just the sensation from the bubbling wine in her cunt brought Ellen to another orgasm. The added impulse of John's tongue deep in her slot sent her thrashing into another. Her legs went up in the air, spread wider, until John had total access to her cunt. This time it was he who withdrew, only to take the champagne and fill her cunt with it again.
When her cunt was full, John held his thumb over the opening so that the wine could not escape, then asked Ellen to stand. He kept his thumb there while she did so and then placed his mouth between her legs and released his thumb, drinking the mixture of cunt juice and champagne that surged forth.
This time it was John who lay on his back, pulling Ellen down on top of him until his cock penetrated her cunt and she mounted him. She shuddered in a combination of both pleasure and pain as the entire length of his monster cock, engorged to its maximum possible limit, sank into her. She sheathed it in herself, then leaned back and pressed one hand against her belly. She took that hand away and grabbed John's, pressing it to the place where her own had just rested. Beneath his palm John could feel a throbbing beat, as though something inside Ellen was trying to burst its way out of her. Suddenly he realized that he was feeling the head of his own cock pressed against her belly from the inside, battering her internal organs. He tried to massage it through her skin, to jerk himself off while inside her.
The sensation must have been painful to Ellen, for she suddenly toppled both of them, still coupled, to their sides and then, rolling still further, pulled him over on top of her. John never missed a beat. He even speeded up the pace, fucking her harder, pounding his meat into her cunt. He didn't know if he was making love to her or trying to destroy her with his weapon. Ellen came again and again. She was long last the magic hundred mark that had thus far eluded her rival, Suzie.
John stopped his mad plunging just before he was about to come, resting a moment before finishing off. Before he could plunge back to work Ellen had placed a hand against his chest and stopped him.
"There's something else I'd like you to do, John," she said. "Something I've wanted since I first laid eyes on your cock."
John knew his limitations, and could not imagine what more she could want, but he asked.
"I want you to fuck me in the ass," she said. "I want your fucking cock in my ass."
"It's too big," John pleaded. "I could never get it in there. The woman never lived who could take my cock in her ass. It'll rupture you. Maybe kill you."
"You won't hurt me," Ellen pleaded. "I've had cocks up my ass before. Maybe not as big as yours, but big enough. Now do it to me. Look in my purse. There's a tube of cold cream there. Smear it on your cock and shove it up my ass. Please, John. I want you there."
John could do nothing but obey. He took the cold cream from her purse and covered the tip of his cock with the stuff. He smeared more of it over her asshole as she crouched before him, head down and with ass in the air. Then he parted the cheeks of her ass and guided the head of his cock to the puckered brown hole that awaited it. Slowly, carefully, he forced his tool into her ass.
At first there was great resistance, and John was about to give the job up as hopeless. Then, ever so slowly, Ellen's sphincter muscles began to relax and his cock began to force its entry.
The head went in, and John felt a tightness around it that no mouth or cunt had ever delivered. It was the most voluptuous sensation he had ever known and he almost creamed at that moment. Only his iron will kept him from coming prematurely. Slowly, the shaft of his cock disappeared into Ellen's ass. The heat of her bowels was like nothing imaginable to him. Her lower gut was clasping him tighter and harder than he had thought imaginable.
When his cock was buried to the hilt John held it there, then began slowly withdrawing it. "Please, not yet," Ellen gasped. "Keep it in there. Deep. As deep as you can get it. Oh! I'm dying! You're killing me! It's good! Oh, God, it's good! Ah! Ah! Yes! Like that!"
But John could resist no longer. It was as though a dam within him had burst. Cum in enormous quantities jetted from his cock deep into her bowels. His balls were drawn up so tight in his groin that they were almost inside his body. He felt as though all his insides were being expelled into Ellen. It was the greatest fuck, the greatest sensation he had ever known. Better, even, than the truly gargantuan orgasms Suzie had given him on certain special occasions.
But this wasn't Suzie, his beloved, it was merely Ellen and no matter how great a lay she was, how marvelous a fuck, the encounter had been truly physical and no more.
He had not experienced a bit of emotional closeness with her. John knew that it had been a mistake to fuck Ellen, a betrayal of Suzie with whom he had mutually promised never to be intimate with another. He resolved that it would never happen again. He would tell Suzie about how he had allowed himself to be seduced by Ellen and reassure her that it was a once only accident. Suzie loved him and she would understand. Of course, he would not tell her at once. He would wait until some time when Suzie was in a forgiving mood, an understanding mood.
Suzie had completed her own shooting early that day, several important scenes of her current film had actually been gotten into the can on the first take and production was ahead of schedule. The film was going well and Suzie knew that she was great in the role. The world was golden for her. Nothing could go wrong. It was time to go to John and straighten out this problem that was driving them apart. If necessary, she would accept the blame for their disagreements. She would suggest that they do a film together and offer to let him select the script. Yes, that was what she would do. John would be delighted and things would be perfect between them again. She hurried through the sound stage where John's film was shooting to his dressing room. Without bothering to knock she opened the dressing room door....
...Just in time to watch John withdraw his dripping cock from Ellen's ass.
John didn't know that Suzie was in the room until everything that could be lifted and thrown came whizzing about his ears. The champagne bottle flew through the air, missing John's head by inches and thumped into Ellen's ribs. The ice bucket followed, then the glasses. Ellen tore herself loose and raced past Suzie out the dressing room door, ignoring the astonished stares of the grips. Moments later John followed her, with objects large and small whizzing through the air after him followed by Suzie's screaming curses.
Suzie stormed back to her own set after John and Ellen had fled beyond reach of her throwing oar, cursing all the way. Once there, she shouted for all the grips in the area to gather round and, when they had, invited them all to a party that night at her town house.
"And don't bring any women," she shouted at them, "not even your wives. There's only going to be one woman at this party, me, and I'm going to show you men the damnest time you've ever had in your lives."
That night Suzie was lover to twenty-six assorted grips, light men and other assistants. The orgy started at eight and continued until dawn had lightened the sky. Suzie had no shooting scheduled for the next day, and as for the crew members who were fucking her that night, they did not care. It was only on rare occasions that the men who moved the sets and adjusted the lights had the rare pleasure of sinking their cocks into star caliber cunts.
Suzie started the evening by sucking off all the men present in turn, going down the line and taking one cock after another between her lovely lips, sucking and licking it until the cum jetted in great gouts. It dribbled from her lips, trickled down over her chest and tits, collected in her navel, jetted into her hair where it dried and stiffened. Then she ordered the fucking to begin.
She had the man drag cushions into the middle of her living room, making a great mound of them. Then she asked them to draw lots to see who would fuck her first.
One after the other she took them, deep into her cunt, matching the thrusting of her hips to their individual fucking styles. All of them had already come in her mouth so the men felt no urgency. The edge was gone from their desire and they could fuck long and slow when she asked them to. And she was coming also. Her hatred had raised a passion within her that could not be quenched. Her orgasms were strong and deep, and the cunt juice flowed to soak the cushions, whipped almost to a froth by the steady, pounding beat of so many consecutive cocks.
Their cum filled her, overflowed. Trickled down her legs when she stood occasionally between fucks to refresh herself with champagne. Then it was back to fucking. The business of drawing lots was long since older. Some among the men, mostly the older ones, were already all fucked out and would need time to recuperate before they could fuck again. These men sat around watching the performances of those among them who could still get their cocks up. There was no jostling in line, no arguing about who was going to shove his meat into Suzie next. There was plenty for all. The woman obviously had an inexhaustible cunt. That night she could have taken on any number of men and fucked them all into oblivion.
She lost track of how many times she came. It had to be far past that magic hundred mark, however. Not one of the men present could come even close to matching John's skill and fucking power, but collectively they far outmatched him. That night Suzie decided that since she could not love or depend on any one man, either for loyalty or sexual satisfaction, she would forego loyalty and love and live for the moment and her own enjoyment. She would fuck the men who appealed to her, when and wherever she desired. She would use men for her own enjoyment. If they received any pleasures from these future encounters, well, that would be accidental. She would be concerned only with herself.
"Things are getting a bit slow," she called to the men assembled in her home. "Let's see how many of you I can take on at once. You, yeah, the one with the skinny dong, come here and shove it up my ass."
She lay face down across the cushions, ass in the air, while the invited stage hand slid his cock into her bowels. Then, at her instructions, locked together cock into ass, they both struggled into a position where she was sitting on his cock and presenting her cunt for entry by still another man. Soon they were both fucking her, and the one in her cunt swore that he could feel his cock battering against the cock in her ass.
Suzie called two more men over and began jerking them off, milking their dongs until they were fully engorged and then adjusting her pace to keep them in that condition.
"My mouth's still empty, guys," she said at this point. "Who wants another blow job?"
Scant seconds later an electrician was waving his heavy prick before her lips, taunting her with it, while she watched it mesmerized. The cock in her ass was probing deep into her bowels. The one in her cunt was slowly battering away at her while its shaft rubbed hard against her clit. The cocks in her hands were pulsing, about to explode their loads. And her lips sucked in the cock before them and began working on it, gripping it while the tongue licked and the teeth nibbled. To make the situation complete, two of the men not plugged into her had forced their heads into the tangle and were sucking away on her tits.
This was the picture John saw as he stepped through the door in the wee hours of the morning. He had finally decided to return and beg forgiveness. On his knees, if necessary.
He stood there in the doorway, taking in the scene, all his dreams of a future with Suzie finished. Finally, without a word, attracting no attention to himself. He slowly closed the door and walked away into the night.
CHAPTER FOUR
The working day of a film performer often begins in the hours before dawn, particularly if a location shooting is scheduled. Frequently, actors and actresses live in isolation from the world when away on location. There may be no radios, no newspapers. And so it was, since Suzie slept through all of the day following the orgy and left at three the following morning for a location far out in the desert, that she did not hear the news about John until almost a week had passed. It was her director himself who tossed the newspaper, with its screaming headline into her lap.
JOHN HOLMES DISAPPEARS, it shouted. ALL PRODUCTION ON FEATURE EPIC HALTED!
She hated John's guts, but she had to know what had happened. She read on, and bit by bit pieced together the story. A few phone calls and she had the rest of the facts.
Ellen was telling the story all over town of how she had stolen Suzie's lover, seduced him in his dressing room and reduced him to a quivering mass of male animal so sexually stimulated that he could refuse her nothing. "I knew I could make him if I got him alone," she had boasted to one of Suzie's friends, "especially after I filled him full of champagne."
Another friend reported that John had gone to her home early in the morning hours, sobbing out his story of accidental lust and the disaster it had produced. There in the dressing room, when discovered fucking Ellen by Suzie, he had finally realized that he valued Suzie's love more than anything in the world, including his budding acting career. He had decided to give her time to think, to allow her to recover a bit from the shock of the discovery she had made. Then he would go to her and beg forgiveness, promising to never again become involved with another woman and to retire from acting after his first film. He had entered her home contrite, as ready as any man could be to make whatever amends were necessary. There he had discovered her in the middle of the most astounding orgy imaginable. It was obvious at once to him that it was too late for apologies. The relationship between him and Suzie was done forever.
The weeks ground by. Another actor was found to play John's role and the scenes showing his face were reshot with the new performer. Ellen's name would insure that at least production costs would be recovered.
Suzie completed her own film, but her heart was not in it. Her performance sagged, and it was obvious that this film, too, could be written off as wasted effort. Then she disappeared from the public gaze. She no longer attended those Hollywood parties where she had been virtually a fixture. Items began appearing in the press expressing curiosity regarding her whereabouts.
Suzie was looking for John. She had finally realized that his affair with Ellen had been little more than an accident. A calculating woman had taken advantage of a moment of weakness and seduced him. It could happen to any man. Suzie herself, before she became enamored of John, had often made a game of seducing the husbands of other women, and these were frequently men who would ordinarily never dream of having extramarital affairs. Now she had to find John. It was her turn to beg forgiveness. If she was very lucky, she might persuade him to return to her.
John was making it almost impossible to find him. Since he could no longer pursue his old livelihood of bodyguard and superstud, he was forced to find ways of making a living that he had never attempted before. In Bakersfield, California, his first stop in a diner, as dishwasher. He received his meals and a tiny salary; just enough to cover the rent on the dingy furnished room he found on the edge of town.
John may have been seeking oblivion, but his instincts were still operating. The diner was owned by a handsome woman of statuesque proportions, who operated the place with her lovely daughter as waitress. Belle, the owner, was a widow who had been long without men and John arrived just at the moment when the eternal itch living within all women was strongly demanding to be scratched-and the furnished room he rented was less than one hundred yards from the house where Belle and her daughter, Sandra, lived. John had been working for them less than a week when, shortly after he sank gratefully into his bed at the end of a long work day, a tapping sounded at the door of his room.
Belle was there when he opened it, bearing a bottle in one hand.
"I hope you have two glasses," she said as he opened the door, "although we can always share one."
"Come in," John answered. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit."
"I needed someone to talk to," was the answer. "You can't imagine how lonely it gets for a healthy woman when there's no one to have a conversation with but her daughter. And I can't talk to the customers at all."
Within moments they were seated side by side on his crumbling sofa, each nursing a drink of straight blended whisky. John knew what was coming and his conscious mind rebelled at the thought, but the animal within him was perking up its attention and ready to welcome whatever happened.
There was nothing subtle about Belle. She rested one hand high on John's thigh and leaned toward him. "Like I was saying, a woman gets lonely when there isn't a man around."
John was tempted to move her hand away and actually reached out to do so, but in the interim his cock had begun to swell inside his pants. The hand that had been reaching for hers to remove it settled instead high on Belle's thight ... and began kneading the soft flesh beneath the fabric. Without another word each put down their drink and they turned toward each other.
There was no tenderness in either of them. John grabbed one of her tits in his hand and squeezed savagely. Belle moaned in pain and pleasure and slid her hand all the way up his thigh to grasp his cock through the fabric that contained it. Then John was unzipping the back of Belle's dress while his free hand probed beneath the skirt.
Belle had come to him naked of undergarments, and his hand felt the wet tangle of her cunt hairs. One finger probed deep into her cunt and found it sopping wet, ready for him. She must have been jerking herself off on the way over here, he thought. Then he finished unzipping the back of her dress and pulled the top down over her shoulders. Her huge tits, far larger than Suzie's impertinent pair, popped out of their restraints and lolled their dark nipples toward his mouth.
He pushed her over on her back, and she went willingly. Her own hands were pulling the dress down over her hips. She kicked it the rest of the way off and it fell to the floor. Then her hands were at John's belt, his fly, pushing and tugging until he was left wearing nothing but his shirt. This they removed together. Suddenly they were skin to skin, two bodies raging with lust and blind to any consequences.
There were no preliminaries. John wasted no time playing with Belle, bringing her to the heights of expectation before they fucked. He merely spread her thighs apart and pushed himself above her and between them. Belle's hand reached down and grabbed his cock, guided it to her slot and shoved it in. She gasped a bit when she felt the size of it in her hand, but there was no hesitation on her part. She wanted to be fucked at once, without foreplay or hesitation. Perhaps this was the way she had always fucked. Not all women are fortunate enough to have known men who fully understand the subtleties of female stimulation. Anyhow, she wrapped her sturdy legs around John's waist and settled down to work.
Belle was a muscular woman. Indeed, it had been the constant activity of a hardworking life that kept her in superb physical shape well into her forties. Her body was that of a mature female athlete, and what she had lost through the aging process she more than made up in physical condition.
The legs that held John in place against Belle were like bars of steel. The tits that pressed against his chest were full and womanly. The cunt that enclosed his cock was tightened by years of celibacy. Belle had not felt a hard cock within her slot since the death of her husband, six years earlier. Her cunt writhed and spasmed and convulsed around John's great dong. Had Belle possessed teeth in her cunt she would have chewed his cock off.
John fucked like a man possessed. There was no finesse to his style, no consideration for his partner. He plunged his cock deep into her, faster and faster, till it pumped like the piston of a speeding steam railroad locomotive.
Belle groaned, her head thrashed from side to side. She began gasping for breath, her chest heaving beneath John's weight. Then she came in a titanic orgasm. Her fingernails gouged into John's back, leaving bloody furrows. John came too, spurting the accumulation of many days into her steaming cunt, jetting time after time. Then he collapsed onto her and lay there. Within moments he was sleeping, dwindling cock still planted in her cunt.
Belle's husband had always gone to sleep atop her after they fucked, so there was nothing new to her about John's behavior. His cock had filled her and he had fucked hard and fast. She had come, which had not been a regular event even with her husband. For all this, Belle was very grateful. From her viewpoint, John had proved himself an exceptional lover. There would be many repeat performances if she had anything to say about the matter. It was time to leave, though, so she pushed John's body off her own and rose from the sofa.
John was awakened by her movements. He was about to apologise for the poor showing he had made and promise to do better in the future, when she stopped his words with a kiss.
After Belle had gone, John showered. The stinging needle spray of hot water felt good against his body as he washed away his and Belle's sweat and love juices. His boss was quite a woman. Unless she showed true romantic interest he would continue to work for her. Maybe this interlude might result in a raise in pay. John turned off the shower and, not bothering to dry himself (it was hot that night and the evaporating water would cool him) walked out of the bathroom and almost knocked down his second visitor of the night. Sandra, Bell's daughter, had also decided to pay a visit. John hastily reached for a towel to cover his nakedness.
"Don't bother," Sandra said. "Since I've already seen your prick there's no point in being shy about it."
She eyed his cock closely. Even limp it was an imposing sight to her eyes. "Tell me the truth now," she said. "Were you and my mother fucking in here?"
"What makes you ask that?"
"I saw her leaving your room," Sandra said, "and she looked happier than I've seen her in years. If that thing of yours gets as big as I think it might when it's hard, then I can understand why. Jesus, you've got a big one."
The situation was beginning to titillate John who, after all, was accustomed to having women inspect his duet source of income and amusement. Sandra was not much more than a kid. Still, she was of legal age, even if just barely. If she wanted to amuse herself by inspecting his dong, then let her have that pleasure. He sat on the sofa and spread his legs wide so that she might have a better view.
"It's big enough for what I use it for," he finally answered. "Have you ever seen a bigger one?"
"I've seen half a dozen," Sandra said, "but nothing like yours. Charley, the guy who delivers the milk to the diner, has what I used to think was a big one, but it's not much more than half the size of yours."
She moved forward and stooped over to inspect it more closely. It began to stir into life.
"You can touch it if you want," John said. "I promise that it won't bite."
On impulse, Sandra reached out and grabbed John's cock, hard. It pulsed in her hand and rapidly swelled larger. All remembrance of the question she had asked regarding her mother was wiped from her mind. All her attention was on this wonderful love tool that was making itself ready for her use. She never even twitched when John stood before her and began to slowly unfasten the buttons and zippers that held her clothing on. Through all of this she stood there stiffly, never releasing her grip on John's now fully hardened cock ... except for a moment when a sleeve had to be pulled over the grasping hand. Now John walked backward to his bedroom while Sandra followed, as though his cock was a leash and she was the dog at the end of it.
Not that Sandra was by any stretch of the imagination a dog. She had a good face and a spectacular figure. The baby fat of pubescence had just finished melting away and the fullness of maturity had not even begun to arrive. Compared with her mother she was a reed beside a full grown tree. The tree may have been solid and sound of limb, but the reed had all the excitement of an exquisite flower just beginning to open. No one yet knew what pleasures and beauties would be revealed when the process was completed.
Sandra lay down on her back on the bed, still without releasing John's cock. Her attention was riveted on it. This was the first time she had ever felt the terrifying power a woman knows while she feels a man's cock come to life in her hands or in her mouth, the power to take him or leave him as she wills. She had found a magnificent toy and she was not about to willingly relinquish it.
John, in his present mood, had been about to fuck the daughter as swiftly and savagely as he had her mother, but this was impossible so long as Sandra held her death grip on his cock. There was no choice for him. He would have to attack the problem of sex with Sandra from a different angle. Turning so that he faced her feet he lay down on the bed beside her, inched himself down so that his nose was in line with the thatch of hair that concealed her cunt.
He parted her thighs almost tenderly, then the lips of her cunt. His tongue clipped into the sweet smelling slot and reached out to nuzzle against her clit. Sandra spasmed as though an electric shock had gone through her and moved her hips away from him, trying to get her cunt out of reach of his tongue. John realized that Sandra had probably never had her cunt licked before, or she would not have attempted to reject his tongue. A cunt experienced in the pleasures of cuntlapping would have thrust against him, not pulled away. In one sense at least, Sandra was cherry. She had never had her cunt licked before. John determined on the spot that he would do the job as best he could.
He took his time, running his tongue deep into her slot and then out again. Rimming her clit. Nibbling on it with his lips. Nipping it with his teeth. Her hips butted against his face as she went into her first orgasm. John began to enjoy the unique sensation of introducing a woman to the pleasures of the tongue.
Suddenly John felt sensation in his own sex organ. There was a fluttering sensation such as he had never known. Then he realized what it had to be. Sandra was raining the lightest of butterfly kisses on the tip of his cock. Surely Sandra had at least heard that some women sucked men off. Was this the way she thought it was done? John shoved his cock closer to her face and hoped for the best. Then he sucked her clit into his mouth and licked away at it harder than ever.
Sandra was coming again. The kisses on his cock ceased as a guttural moan escaped her throat. John thought that she sounded almost exactly like her mother when coming, only younger. In time, she would be the image of the older woman, which would not be a bad thing.
As her spasms relaxed, Sandra returned her attentions to John's cock, hovering so close to her mouth. This time she was on target, and John felt the warmth of her tongue slithering around the head of his cock, around the shaft. Then she was trying to take it entirely into her mouth.
Sandra's mouth was small and John's cock very large, but at last he felt her accomplishing the act. His cock, or at least the tip of it, was warmly and tightly enclosed. Soft pressure was being applied wherever her tongue could reach. Meanwhile, she was stroking the length of his cock with both hands, sliding her delicate fingers up and down its length. John felt himself building toward another orgasm. He pulled back, yanking his cock from her mouth and taking his own away from her cunt. In a flash he had reversed positions and was on top of her, feeling for her cunt again with one hand and guiding his cock toward it with the other.
Sandra struggled beneath his weight. For some reason she did not want to be fucked yet, but it was too late to stop John. He found the spot and shoved it in with all his force. Sandra screamed so loud that she could have been heard for hundreds of yards away, but John knew what had happened. He had been misled by Sandra's comments about the cocks she had seen and their relative sizes. Sandra was a virgin, or had been until he had rammed his huge cock into her cunt. He had taken her cherry, and the act had been painful. Even an ordinary size cock will hurt many women on the first time they get fucked, and John's was far from ordinary.
Nevertheless, John continued fucking. It was too late for him to quit, the damage had been done. If he stopped now Sandra would still have lost her cherry and neither he nor she would have gained any pleasure from the act. His only choice was to continue until nature had taken its course.
Sandra was sobbing in his ear. "Oh, stop, please, stop, you're hurting me. Don't! No! It hurts. I can't stand it."
John pumped more slowly now, establishing a steady rhythm. He pushed himself higher in the bed so that the upper side of his cock shaft might slide against her clit. Sandra's chanting pleas began to change.
Then Sandra screamed again and John knew that she was coming. He felt the muscles of her cunt clamp and contract against his cock, trying to hold it there. Then he was coming, spurting in hard jets deep into her.
John felt as though he could fuck for hours, despite the fact that he had come twice thus far in the evening. His cock felt like an iron bar, heavy as lead, weighted down with untapped reserves of cum. Long hours of hard work had strengthened his muscles, made his driving attack on her cunt more powerful. He didn't need the subtleties of foreplay and byplay that had characterized all his sexual encounters since he had taken up the entertainment of the famous and beautiful women of the entertainment world. This simple girl beneath him was satisfying all his sexual needs. Why play around with hours of teasing and kneading and tickling of sensitive surfaces and centers of pleasure. Ram your cock in and pump hard and fast until both partners are coming. The raw play of animal power released by this style of sex may have led to a swifter encounter and a quick fuck, but the pleasure was there and in great intensity. He had been crazy to play the protracted games of the super sophisticated. This was lower class fucking, but it held pleasures the perfumed beds of the super rich could never deliver. He didn't need Suzie or Ellen or any of their decadent friends. He needed simple fucking, such as this girl and her mother could deliver. He hoisted Sandra's legs over his shoulders and bored into her again, driving even deeper than he had before. Sandra, beneath him, was one convulsing mass of quivering flesh writhing in one continuous and protracted orgasm. John, too, was coming again and he knew that even after that he would be able to continue.
The door to the bedroom burst open and a fury entered. Raging fingers grabbed John by the hair and hauled his head back. Sharp nails ripped at his neck and shoulders. Powerful arms hauled him off Sandra and threw him to the floor. Belle was there, drawn by her daughters screams and charging to the attack. Now she was kicking at him, at his face. John covered his face and head with his arms and rolled into a ball. The center of the attack shifted to his balls. Belle was kicking at them, trying to cripple him, missing, but battering with her shoes his ass and his lower back. He had to do something soon or she would severely injure him, but there was no way he could protect himself. He could not even struggle to his feet, for that would have exposed him to direct frontal attack.
Suddenly the blows stopped, though John could still hear the sounds of a violent struggle going on in the room. He opened one eye and peered from between protecting fingers. Sandra had joined the fray and was battling her own mother to protect him. Belle was screaming that she would kill the rapist who had defiled her innocent daughter. Sandra was screaming in return that she had come of her own free will and had seduced John. The battle between the two women finally subsided into an exhausted truce and John was able to get to his feet, wrap a sheet around his bruised and battered body and attempt to interject some sanity into the conversation.
Belle had calmed considerably, but was still weeping over her daughter's lost virginity, which was mutely attested to by the bloodstained sheets. John had indeed broken her cherry and the evidence was everywhere. Sandra was explaining that she had been waiting for such an opportunity for months. She had long since decided that it was past time for her to learn the mysterious joys of sex; that she had been experimenting with several of the young men in the neighborhood without going all the way. She told her mother and John that she had allowed these men to feel her tits, even to insert their fingers into her cunt. But no more than that. In return, she had jerked them off and watched them come. Never before had a cock entered her cunt or her mouth.
"You mean that you sucked him off?" asked Belle.
"Yes, I did," said Sandra, "but only because he was doing the same for me. And it felt good. Really it did."
Belle was suddenly stricken by a bitter hatred for her daughter. Through all her long and active sexual life with her deceased husband he had never laid his tongue in her slot. Not once had she felt a hot male tongue thrilling in her clit. She knew that such things were done; indeed she was aware of the fact that for some women such acts were the normal prelude to fucking. But she had never known them in all the thousands of times she had fucked while her daughter had been given that special pleasure on her very introduction to sex. And by the same man who had taken her so swiftly in a straight fuck. She turned her anger again on John.
"Why didn't you lick my cunt, you bastard," she screamed at him. "Are you too good for me? Am I too old for that?"
"Damn it, Belle," he yelled back at her. "There wasn't time for any of that. I hadn't been laid in I don't know how long. And you were so hot and ready. If it had been you who came back I'd have been willing to spend hours licking you, anything you wanted. Sandra just caught me in the right mood."
Belle wasn't satisfied with this explanation. Her pride had been injured, and that counted for far more than the fact that her beloved daughter had been stripped of her cherry. All she wanted now was proof that her cunt was as desirable as that of the younger woman. That the younger woman in question was the product of her own loins was beyond her at this moment. Sandra had been reduced to the level of a sexual rival and no more.
"Then lick it now," Belle demanded. "Show me what sort of a man you are and what you really think of me."
John protested strongly. "What in hell do you expect of me. I've been kicked and scratched and beaten. I never fuck or lick any woman unless I get the same treatment in return, and I'm in no shape for sex whatsoever. I couldn't get it up right now for anything."
"We'll see about that," said Belle, stripping off her clothes. Then she turned and glared at her daughter, still cowering naked in a corner of the room. "And you're going to help me."
In a moment Belle was leading both John and Sandra into the shower. She set the temperature control on hot and the three of them stepped beneath the flowing water. Soap was passed from hand to hand and the two women began soaping John from head to foot. Soap slicked hands and fingers washed his bruised flesh, slid between the crevice of his ass, massaged his balls and the dangling limpness of his cock. Despite his weariness and the beating he had received John discovered that his own hands possessed personal volitions beyond his control. He was soaping them, feeling breasts fill his palms. His hands were stroking ass, sliding up and down thigh, massaging cunt. And his cock was swelling.
Belle knelt before him in the shower and sucked his cock deep into her throat, cupping his balls while she did so. This was the first time she had ever held a cock in her mouth but instinct prevailed and she functioned like an expert. Her mouth was hot and deep, her tongue everywhere on its head and shaft. Meanwhile, Sandra was contributing her bit to his stimulation. Instinct led her nimble fingers to his ass and probed at his asshole. He parted his buttocks as far as he could and tried to relax his sphincter, and a tiny finger forced its way in and began to massage him. John could feel the reservoir of cum within him beginning to build up pressure.
Reluctantly, very reluctantly, John forced Belle's mouth from his cock. He stood and tightened his asshole, so that Sandra's finger could no longer remain there. Then he crouched before Belle's wet figure and shoved his face into her cunt. It was dripping with juices, eager and ready for any action. His tongue found her clit without difficulty and began to lick, hard and long. Sandra was behind him again and, while he was crouched in the licking position, her finger entered his ass without difficulty, deeper this time. He let her work there, knowing that this alone could not make him come.
But Belle was coming. Her head was tilted back and her mouth was opening to emit hard, gasping sounds. Her nipples stood fully erect. Pink flushes swept over her body as she came time after time. Sandra's finger left his ass again. John, with his eyes closed to protect them from the streaming water could not see Sandra's fingers close on her mother's jutting nipples to caress them and then, later, her soft mouth close on the breast where once she had received her nurturing milk. Mother and daughter were securely locked together in sex as any female couple could ever be-when one member of the couple was also being fucked by a man.
They never bothered to dry themselves on the way to the bed. Belle led John by his cock, with one arm wrapped around her daughter's waist. Sandra was still clutching her mother's tits, fondling them roughly, pinching occasionally to bring grimaces of both pleasure and pain to her mother's face.
On the bed, John plunged his face once more between Belle's thighs. This time she was better positioned to receive him. She lay flat on her back, thighs parted and knees raised. John was on the foot of the bed, face down and between her thighs. His arms went under her legs to massage her belly, while his tongue worked hard at her clit. He resorted to no special subtleties, but merely tongued her hard and steadily until she was coming in a series of violent orgasms. Finally, with his jaws and tongue aching from the affort, he pulled his face away and announced that he could do no more. Through all this Sandra had been sitting on the side of the bed, not participating in any way, watching in utter fascination John's technique as he licked her mother's cunt.
"Do me now," John gasped to Belle. "Go down on it. Suck it for me. I want to come in your mouth."
Swiftly they changed positions. Now it was Belle's turn to take his sex organ into her mouth, something that she had done only once before. But Belle never hesitated. She had just been treated to the finest sex session she could remember and there would be more in the future if she cooperated. Forgotten was the rage she had felt at the despoilment of her beloved daughter. Now she and Sandra were partners in a sexual adventure and she, not her beautiful daughter, was the central figure. She went to work with a will.
Belle's mouth was larger than Sandra's and she was able to take a considerable length of his cock into her mouth. She worked on it crudely but effectively. Her tongue was everywhere. Her head bobbed up and down as he fucked her mouth. Her teeth bit, but not hard enough to cause pain. And she was stimulated to her work by a startling and sudden sensation which shot through her cunt.
Sandra could be left out of the lovemaking no longer. There was no way she could use John. Her mother was devouring him as fast as she could gobble cock. That left only one primary sex organ unattended to, her mother's cunt. Sandra lay down on her back and forced her way under her mother's body and between her legs. She spread wide the lips of her mother's cunt and gingerly slipped her tongue between them. The taste was like nothing she expected. Pungent but not powerful, it reminded her of those musky perfumes sold at fabulous prices that some women wear to entice men to their beds-and sometimes women. Throwing caution to the winds, she plunged her tongue deep and found her mother's clit.
The new delight drove Belle's frantic with ecstasy. Some corner of her mind knew that only her daughter could be supplying the pleasure, but it was a female tongue and therefore more knowing than even John's had been. Daughter or not, she accepted the pleasures it delivered gladly.
Now Sandra, alone, was unsatisfied. There was no one to deliver pleasure to her, at least not while she lay in this position on the bed. As the only one with her mind free, she searched frantically for ways to enter the action. Then she began inching her hips in an arc around the bed so that soon she lay at a sharp angle to the others. Still she struggled as the angle closed. Now her hips were nearing John's face. Now John was reaching for her, tugging her nearer. She rolled her agile hips to the side and spread her thighs, raised one leg away from the other. John's face plunged between them.
They lay there for the better part of an hour, licking and sucking at each other. John's cock throbbed in Belle's mouth, growing nearer and nearer to orgasm. Belle's clit twitched and trembled and sent wave after wave of orgasm sweeping through her as Sandra licked it. John's tongue was deep in Sandra's slot, doing magic things to the recently injured tissues and soothing her clit into repeated orgasmic delights. Finally, Belle and Sandra came almost together, just as John shot his load deep into Belle's throat. She swallowed the acrid fluid swiftly so as not to choke on it. After a moment, the three tired bodies separated on the bed and each dropped off into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
Suzie spent two weeks and thousands of dollars trying to track John down through the use of private detectives, and then decided that if she was ever to find him it would have to be through her own efforts. She tried to place herself in John's shoes, to figure out where he might have gone and the type of life he might pursue. He would head for some small town, she believed, some place where he could sink into oblivion without being noticed. That meant not too small a town. It had to be a place that was not newsworthy, but where strangers still could not attract too much attention. A hamlet of a few thousand citizens or less would not be suitable.
He could have gone anywhere in the United States, of course, which would have made finding him impossible, but Suzie suspected that he would remain in California. Fresno seemed a likely spot, so she selected an unobtrusive outfit and bought a cheap car, one which would attract little attention to herself. Then she was off for Fresno.
There was also the problem of determining what sort of job he would seek, and she concluded that, since he had few really commercial skills, he might look for work as a gas station attendant. Armed with a batch of pictures of John she began visiting the gas stations in Fresno and making inquiries.
For a week she stopped at station after station without any success whatsoever.
"Nope, never saw anyone looked like him," was a customary reply.
"Saw somebody looked a bit like that, but he had a beard and longer hair."
John might have grown a beard since he had left, so she asked for more details.
"Well, he had a snake tattooed on each wrist. Is that the guy you're looking for?"
John had hated the very idea of defiling his body with tattoos, so she sought elsewhere.
Finally, at a gas station just north of Fresno, a smirking attendant appeared to have information. '
"Your boyfriend run out on you, huh, lady?" the gas pumper asked.
"That's none of your business," said Suzie, "but there's a reward in it for you if you know where he is."
"Gimme a ten now and I'll lead you to him later," the attendant said. "He's holed up in a place about two miles from here. I get off at ten. Meet me here and I'll take you to him."
Suzie was there at ten P.M. and the two got into the attendant's ancient pickup. He drove off toward a run down part of Fresno, where many of the buildings were boarded up and few people walked the streets. It was just the sort of place John might hide out in, Suzie thought, particularly if he happened to be in a depressed frame of mind. From the few things John had told her about his childhood he had grown up in just this sort of neighborhood, been involved with street gangs, gone in for petty crimes. He had a juvenile criminal record which had been expunged when he reached the age of eighteen. John had claimed, and there was no reason for Suzie not to believe him, that he had avoided all criminal acts and contacts since that time. It was possible, however, that under the stresses he had recently been subjected to, he had returned to his old habits. If only Suzie could reach him before he returned to a life of crime.
"He's shacked up on the second floor of that building across the street," said Joe, the gas station attendant who was transporting her. "It's boarded up and condemned, but the door's open."
They strolled from the parked truck and Joe, with considerable effort, forced the ancient door open. Together they climbed an ancient flight of wooden stairs, the only illumination provided by the flashlight Joe held. They paused once more outside a door at the top of the stairs.
"He's in there," Joe said, rapping on the door. "Let's go in," he said, when there was no response, "maybe he's asleep."
He opened the door and motioned for Suzie to precede him. Inside was darkness ... and the muffled sound of movement.
Suddenly Suzie was frightened. What had she gotten herself into? How could she have trusted a complete stranger to take her to a place like this. Suzie knew with awesome certainty that she was about to be raped and possibly killed.
There was the scratch of a match and a brief flicker as flame was applied to the mantle of a pressure lantern. Then the dingy room was illuminated by a glare as bright as daylight. In the harsh light of the hissing lantern Suzie could see the hairy bodies of three men, naked, leering, half sodden with drink. Joe, standing behind her, shoved her into the room and locked it behind her, began stripping off his own clothes.
"Here she is," he said, "just like I said. And remember, you mother fuckers, I get her first for bringing her here."
General laughter filled the room. "Fuck you, Joe," said the largest and most muscular of the three men. "You get her when I say you do, remember that." Then he turned to Suzie.
"You can strip yourself or we'll do it for you. Treat us nice and maybe we'll let you out of here some day. Give us a hard time and you'll never live to leave here. Now which is it gonna be?"
The room whirled around Suzie and the voices seemed to be coming from a million miles away. She felt herself falling, yet there was no pain when her body made contact with the floor, then everything was blackness. She had fainted.
She awoke to find herself stretched out on a filthy mattress, laid on the floor of the room. Another gas lantern had been lit and the hissing of the two light sources was oppressively loud. Hands were casually fondling her body. A finger was idly probing her cunt, dispassionately, as though examining a piece of machinery about to be put into use.
"She's got a real tight one," the voice attached to the finger in her cunt said, "good muscles here."
"Nice tits," said the voice of the man fondling them. "Not as big as I like, but big enough. Good nipples, though. Hey, lady," he added, as Suzie opened her eyes, "you mind much if I bite your nipples off?"
Suzie shuddered at the suggestion. She knew at once that she was in the hands of monsters and that the chances of escaping with her life, or even physically intact, were almost nonexistent. All she could do was allow her captors to proceed as they wished, without resisting them, and hope for a moment of negligence in which she might escape. Perhaps her best bet would be to pretend that the threat of violence excited her, that she was actually enjoying the experience. Forcing calmness into her voice, she reached out and grasped the man fondling her tits by his limp cock.
"Can't you boys do more than talk about it?" she asked. "I come up here to be fucked, not tickled."
"She's crazy," Joe said from the shadows. "She thought she was going to meet her old man here."
Suzie laughed. "Do you really believe that I was dumb enough to do a thing like that? I've been picking up gang bangs all across the states like this for years, ever since I learned that there wasn't a man alive who could satisfy me all by himself. I was brought up to believe that a real lady never asks to be fucked. This way I get to meet lots of hot studs without asking. Besides, it's more fun this way, not knowing what I'm getting into."
The men in the room didn't really care one way or the other what her motives were in coming there, but they relaxed a bit at the possibility that even if they released her there might be few consequences for them. Then the leader got down to business.
"You can start by eating my cock," he said, "right now."
Suzie glanced at his dangling member, not even barely hard, and decided wearily that she had better begin earning her life back. She settled to her knees before him and closely examined his weapon.
It was smaller than most she had known and she would have no difficulty with it. First she stroked it, gently, trying to get it hard, but there was no response. The man leaned back a bit, bracing himself with one arm, and puffed slowly on his cigarette.
"If you can't get it up for me, honey, I'm going to beat the living shit out of you. Now stop playing games and suck."
Suzie opened her mouth and leaned forward, closed her lips around the flaccid organ. The others in the room leaned closer to watch her work. She held his cock in her mouth, lips pressed against the curly hairs of his crotch, and gently swirled it around in her mouth with her tongue. She sucked on it as though it was a thick straw, trying desperately to get some response. Nothing. Now she nipped on it gently with her teeth, rolled it between them. Was that the quiver of an answering movement. She gripped harder with her teeth. There were men, she knew, who could not respond to a woman unless she inflicted pain on them. She shuddered at the thought that such masochists were almost always sadists as well, and she could expect punishment in return. She hoped that the punishment, when it came, would neither cripple nor kill her.
Under the grinding pressure of her teeth the cock finally began to swell and harden in her mouth. She knew that she was really hurting him, but that was what he wanted. She opened her eyes while she chewed and sucked on his cock and saw that the brute's eyes were clamped tight shut. Beads of sweat covered his face. His entire body twitched each time her teeth ground together. She could taste the salt of blood in her mouth.
Then his cock was fully hard and his hands were grasping her by the head, holding her in position. Now he was fucking her in the mouth, battering his cock against the back of her throat. Only her ability to open her throat kept her from gagging. Her lips were bruised from pounding against his pubic bone. Then, finally, she could feel the convulsions begin as he prepared to come. He held her head tightly into his groin as the fluid shot from his cock, making her swallow it to keep from choking. It was bitter and salty, but she dutifully swallowed every drop. His cock collapsed in moments after he came and he lay back on the mattress, pulling his cock from her mouth. As she had expected, it was cruelly marked by her teeth and bleeding in a dozen spots.
An open hand smashed her hard across the side of the head from behind. "Bite me like that you little cocksucker and I'll kick the shit out of you. One lousy nip and I'll rip your tits off. Now turn around and suck me off."
Suzie turned wearily to accept the next cock in line. These men had no subtlety, she thought, no style. The cock was large, hard and ready so she went to work on it immediately.
The owner of this weapon kept his fingers entwined in Suzie's hair-and a clenched fist raised to batter her face at the first touch of her teeth. Suzie was careful to suck him off gently and artfully, using her tongue and the pressure of her lips only to bring him to orgasm. He came only seconds after she began sucking him, with only the head of his cock between her lips. He pulled his cock out of her mouth at the moment he came, so that the cum jetted full into Suzie's face, spattered on her nose and cheeks. She reached for something with which to wipe the sticky fluid away, but a harsh voice stopped her.
"Leave it there," the voice said. "I like to see cum on a whore's face. It makes her look natural, sort of."
The next in line didn't want to be blown. "No sloppy seconds for me," he said. "I want to see if that tight pussy feels as good to my prick as it did to my finger. Lay down and spread your legs, baby, pappa's going to shove it home."
Suzie had no choice but to obey. Besides, two pairs of hands were tugging at her, pulling her down on the mattress, spreading her thighs wide to accommodate their friend. They fondled and squeezed her tits as the fucker rammed his cock in. Then he was pumping away at her as fast and as hard as he could manage, making those grunting noises which meant, Suzie knew, that he would be coming in a matter of seconds.
She had to convince them that she was enjoying herself if she was to survive. Her cunt was dry and the fucking was painful to her, but Suzie was a superb actress and she knew exactly how to simulate the female orgasm. She bucked and writhed and twisted under the pounding body of her rapist. She shook her head hard from side to side and moaned. She shouted in feigned pleasure, "Oh, that's good. Fuck me! Fuck me!"
Less than a minute after his cock had entered her the rapist came. Before she had a chance to even think about it, Joe, the gas pump jockey, was scrambling for his turn. She could smell the stench of gasoline and grease on his unwashed body as he climbed aboard and slammed his cock into her now sopping cunt.
Suzie drove herself to enjoy the crude fucking, knowing that only if she could convince these brutes of her pleasure would she stand a chance of surviving relatively uninjured. Only if they felt that their safety demanded killing her would they do so, she believed, unless ... the horror crept unbidden into her mind ... the true sadist among them derived his final, ultimate pleasure from torturing women to death. There were such men, she knew, she had read about them often enough in the newspapers and encountered their facsimiles in several of the films she had appeared in. While Joe fucked her she concentrated on a mental image of John and his huge, loving cock. Mentally she imagined that the cock driving into her was pumping at a slower pace and gradually a languid feeling stole over her. Her legs rose and wrapped around Joe's waist, pulling him closer. Her ankles crossed and locked. A smile appeared on her cum-stained face and her tongue darted out to lick away the cum. She could feel the hotness of approaching orgasm building within her. Then it was there. Her hips pumped upward to meet Joe's thrusts. The moans that escaped her lips were genuine. This was pleasure. This was lust. This was what her body craved. When Joe finally came and shot his load she continued the pumping of her hips until Joe, carried past the pain that sometimes follows ejaculation, felt his cock harden again in renewed vigor. He rested only a moment, and then was furiously pumping away at her again.
Suzie's body was covered with sweat. Flush after flush swept through her body. In the harsh light of the hissing gas lanterns it was obvious even to her rapists that they had gotten to her. Whatever her first reaction to them, they knew, Suzie was theirs so long as they could provide her with pleasure. Then Joe was coming again and she was coming in tune with him, both bodies thrashing on the mattress.
Hours passed while the men took turns with her, except for the first man who sat there watching and nursing his damaged cock. He muttered threats of vengeance for what she had done to him, ignoring the fact that pain was the only stimulus he could respond to, a fact that he was well aware of. It was also his excuse for abusing the women he was with, and he reached over occasionally to cruelly pinch Suzie's nipples.
It was over at last. Each of them, with the exception of the first, had fucked her at least twice and two of them had been sucked off by her repeatedly until there was not a drop of cum left in their bodies. Then, laughing, they dragged on their filthy clothing and left the room, bolting the door behind them and taking away every stitch of Suzie's clothing. She was left in the room with nothing but the bare walls, the filthy mattress and the two hissing lanterns. As soon as they were gone Suzie turned off one of the lanterns and adjusted the other to its lowest possible level. There was no way to determine how long she would be held here and she had to conserve every possible resource.
A lengthy inspection of the room revealed that she was indeed without resources. A book of matches to relight the lanterns. Some gasoline to refill them. A few rags that had once been a blanket. She tried the door and discovered that it was unexpectedly strong and thick, and barred from the outside. The windows had been nailed shut with heavy planks across them, leaving a bit of space for air to enter. She was too weak to pull the boards away and the spaces between them were too narrow for her to signal through. Even had she been able to do so signals would have availed her nothing, though Suzie could not be aware of this. The windows faced on a central courtyard of the deserted building, where no one ever went. She was sealed in as effectively as a prisoner in a modern jail cell. There was nothing for her to do but sleep and try to regain some strength. She turned the lantern off and pulled the rags of blanket over herself. Total exhaustion did the rest.
Suzie was awakened hours later by the noise of the door being unbolted. A flashlight flickered around the room, stopped briefly on her supine body, then found the lanterns. A match scratched and the lanterns were lighted, first one and then the other. In moments, the room was ablaze with light.
Joe stood over her, unzipping his pants. A smile spread across his face. "You liked it so much the last time, baby, that I thought we ought to be alone together so I can show you how I can really fuck."
Suzie thought swiftly. "I'm glad you're back. Those friends of yours don't know anything about what a woman needs. You want me to blow you before we fuck?"
"Sure, baby, that's a great idea," said Joe. When he couldn't resist a moment of cruelty. "We better hurry, though, because Al's gonna be here soon. He said he's gonna fix you for biting his prick that way before. Say's he's gonna burn your tits off with a blowtorch, and he means it. I saw him work one broad over with a torch about a year ago. Burned them right off. Nothin' but ashes when he was finished. He didn't kill her, but she's up in the state booby hatch now, crazy as a bedbug. Now spread your legs. Daddy's going to show you how to fuck."
Suzie did as she was told, but a plan was hatching in her brain. As soon as he was in her, fucking away, her legs came up as though to wrap around his waist. This time, though, they lifted higher. Now they were firmly around his chest and her ankles were locking.
Suzie was an actress, a performer. Her career depended, at least in part, on superb physical condition. She was as strong as most men her size, perhaps stronger. She had been trained as a dancer, and the muscles beneath her silken skin were like steel cables when she tensed them. Now, with her legs locked firmly around Joe's chest, she exerted all the crushing power of those dancer's muscles.
Joe cried out at the sudden pain and pressure. He realized what she was attempting and reached for her throat with both hands to throttle her. But he reacted just a moment too late. Already it was impossible for him to breath. Even as his fingers closed on her throat the strength was leaving him. Blackness rose before his eyes as Suzie's legs clamped ever tighter. His ribs creaked, then snapped under the relentless pressure. His hands relaxed and he slumped forward, blood trickling from his lips. At least one of his broken ribs must have punctured a lung.
Suzie waited until she was sure he was finished, then relaxed the grip of her legs and rolled his body off to the floor. In a moment she was dressing in Joe's clothes. They were far too large for her, but she rolled up the pants cuffs and pulled the belt tight. She had to punch a new hole in his belt to do so, but there was a knife in Joe's pocket and she accomplished this task swiftly. She was about to open the door and dart from the room when she heard the creaking of steps from below and the sound of laughter. What could she do against two or more men? The plots of many movies she had appeared in flashed through her mind. Seconds later she was adjusting one of the lanterns. Then she stood against the wall where she would be momentarily hidden by the opening door and waited.
Al, the torturer, was the first in the room, and he was carrying a blow torch, just as Joe had promised. With him was one of the other rapists whose name she had never learned. Suzie slammed the door into the two men and whirled the lantern above her head. Smashed it down across the back of Al's head. He sank to the floor even as the lantern burst, covering him with burning gasoline. Then, before the other man could even begin to react, she was upon him. Joe's knife was open in her fist, the blade extended. One lunge and it was hilt deep in the man's belly, ripping upward. Blood spurted across Suzie's hand, but she never hesitated. Again and again the knife went home. Then she was past the two fallen bodies and racing down the stairs. She hit the lower door just as it was being pulled open by her final attacker, knocking him to the ground, racing away down the dark streets.
He was on his feet and after her. He knew nothing about the fate of his friends, but he did know that if she escaped the police would soon be after him, so he chased her in hot pursuit.
Suzie ran fast, but no woman can outrun a man in good physical condition. He caught her three blocks away, just as she was darting into an alley. They struggled in the darkness. Her attacker battered her with his fists while she scratched at him and bit whatever extremity her teeth could find. Her knife was gone, buried beneath one victim's ribs in the abandoned building.
Suzie was losing the struggle. There was no way she could win against the man's vastly superior strength. Now she was down on her back and he was on top of her. His knees were against her shoulders, pressing her hard to the ground. His fingers groped her neck to choke the life from her. She snapped at one and connected, sank her teeth in until they ground against bone and she could taste the blood in her mouth. A fist crashed into her face and her teeth released their grip. The fingers found her throat and began to squeeze. Suzie tore at them with her hands but the grip was as of steel and she could not move them. Redness danced before her eyes. Her arms were flung out wildly, scratching and seeking for anything that might save her. One hand closed on a length of wood lying in the alley and seized it in desperation, swung it up and battered it down on the head dimly seen above her.
There was a nail in the piece of wood and it tore at her attacker's head, slashed his face. For a moment he released his grip and clapped his hands to his face. It was enough for Suzie to struggle free and race down the alley-to a dead end.
Her pursuer was back on his feet, also, and closing in on her. He came slowly, warily, this time he would take no chances. She was only a woman, he thought, but a woman who fought like a tiger. Far away sirens were wailing. A glow was beginning to light the night sky. The building where Suzie had been held was burning. Neither Suzie nor her attacker paid any attention to the glow or the sirens. Death was in her attacker's heart as he closed in for the kill. The board Suzie had swung against him was now in one hand. In the other a wicked knife blade gleamed.
Suzie crouched against the fence at the end of the alley and awaited the inevitable. Her breath came in gasps. She had no strength left. Feebly, she dodged a wild swing of the board. The knife slashed out and ripped her arm, then lowered to plunge upward toward her chest.
Lights flashed at the open end of the alley. There were shouts of command, incomprehensible to Suzie's ears. Her attacker turned for a moment, outlined against the lights, and then turned again to deliver the death blow to Suzie. She threw herself to the ground as gunshots thundered down the alley. Her attacker's body jerked as the slugs tore through him, then collapsed across her. Sight and sound faded from Suzie. The last thing she saw was the uniformed police officer crouching over her, asking if she was all right.
CHAPTER SIX
No one at the Fresno police station believed Suzie when she told them who she was, and who could blame them. What they saw was the battered wreck of a woman, one arm bleeding from a deep knife cut (she was immediately taken to an emergency hospital where the wound was cleaned and stitched under a local anaesthetic, and then returned to the police station for questioning) and wearing filthy male clothing much too large for her with nothing beneath it. They finally allowed her to make a phone call-Joe had left enough change in his pocket to cover a long distance call to Hollywood-and Arnie came on the line to verify her identity. He also informed them that he was chartering a plane and would be in Fresno within the hour, complete with attorney. After that, attention was paid to her statements.
Fortunately, Suzie thought quickly on her feet. She related the barest details of her detention and rape at the hands of the four men, varying the story to claim that they had begun to fight over her and she had fled during the altercation. She was aware of the fact that the building had , burned and hoped that there would be no evidence to link her to the killings. The blood that had covered her hand after stabbing Al's companion had already been washed away by a hospital attendant. It was assumed at the time that it was her own, flowing from the cut on her arm. As for the knife, any fingerprints she might have left on it would have been destroyed by the fire, for the handle of that knife was wood.
As she began to realize that no blame could fall on her for the three deaths or for the fire a tremendous elation filled Suzie. She had killed three men in hand-to-hand combat. She had outthought and outfought them. Not only was she a woman, she was also a better man than any of them. Now she was more certain than ever that she would track John down and bring him back. They would live together openly, perhaps marry. He would be her love toy, her plaything. A woman who could kill three strong men so easily could surely handle one man alone.
Arnie, flying up from Hollywood in a hired jet, was at the police station while Suzie was still undergoing interrogation. The police were trying to extract as much information from her as possible before she could consult with an attorney, but she was too sharp for them. They took their revenge, however, by turning the local newspaper reporters loose on her.
"How did it feel being raped by four men, Suzie?" one asked her. "Did they bang you around much?"
Suzie paused, thinking of a reply, but another reporter cut in before an answer could be given.
"Did they actually rape you, honey?" the woman asked.
"Yes, they did," Suzie answered automatically, before thinking that Arnie might not approve of the damage this could to her image. "At least they were trying to when the fight broke out among them."
"How did you get those clothes if they'd only started to rape you?" the woman persisted. "It looks as though you must have been stark naked at some point in the proceedings."
"They'd stripped me and one of them had taken off his own clothes when the fighting started," Suzie explained. "I just grabbed whatever clothing was handy and ran out of the room naked. I dressed at the bottom of the stairs. The man who chased me, the one the police shot, came running up just as I was leaving."
Suzie had thought swiftly and well. There was no way they could shake her story and no real reason for them to disbelieve her. They would make headlines enough out of the night's events. The police captain in charge of her case, however, had far too much knowledge and experience to take her story at face value. Moreover, he knew all the victims, having swiftly identified them from Suzie's description. He doubted that they would have fought over any woman. There were holes in Suzie's story that seriously disturbed him. There was also little he could do about it for the moment. While he was still wracking his mind over the problem Arnie, followed closely by his lawyer, burst into the room.
"Suzie has nothing more to say to you gentlemen until I've had time to talk to her," he told the assembled police officers.
"Are you her attorney?" the police captain asked.
"Yes, he is," Suzie answered for him, understanding immediately the legal aspects of the situation. She had played an attorney in a film, once, and had taken some law courses to familiarize herself with the protocol and jargon. Now that her attorney of record was present the police were severely limited in what they could ask. Within the hour Suzie was released to his custody and asked to remain overnight in Fresno as a material witness. There would be a court hearing in the morning to determine her status. In the hotel room Arnie had selected for her, after a hearty meal and a good soak in a hot tub, Suzie drifted off into a deep sleep.
Meanwhile, in Bakersfield, John was congratulating himself on the delightful situation he had fallen into. He had moved into Belle's house, where he now shared a kingsize bed with Belle and her daughter. The two women had settled their grievances by deciding to share him. It was obvious that John was man enough to attend to the sexual needs of half a dozen women and equally obvious that he would leave them both if any pressure was put upon him to choose between them. They may not have been happy with the situation, but they accepted it. And John was teaching mother and daughter the subtler aspects of fucking and sucking. He conducted his lessons almost in a classroom atmosphere.
"When you're sucking a cock," he told them, "do it slow and easy. Work too fast and the guy will come, which might end the evening's pleasures right then and there. Most men are not like me. They can't hold off coming for too long and when they've shot their load their usually finished for the night. If you started by blowing them, that leaves you out in the cold.
"What you want to do is tease a man. Suck his cock. Nibble on it a bit. But when you feel it start to twitch you'd better either stop for a while of squeeze the base of his cock like this"-he demonstrated on his own member. "That will cool him off for a while. Now I want you to try it, Belle."
Belle knelt between John's spread thighs as he sat on the edge of the bed. She opened her mouth and flicked the tip of her tongue against his cock. John stopped her.
"Most women think that tip of the tongue bit really turns a man on," he told her, "but it only will if he's never had a real blow job. You've got to take it into your mouth. Hold it tight with your lips, then let your tongue run around the shaft. Now try it again."
Belle did, following John's advice, and the tremor that ran visible through him told both women that this time Belle was right on the mark. Then he grabbed her by the head with both hands and began working her head toward and away from him so that his cock slid in and out of her mouth.
"That's what a man really wants to feel," he said. "A mouth can feel better than all but the tightest cunts, especially if the woman's tongue is active while she blows him."
He pushed her head away. "Now you try it, Sandra."
Later, after both women had thoroughly demonstrated that they had mastered the art of cocksucking, John rewarded them with his best cuntlicking demonstration. While Sandra watched in awe he laid Belle on her back and spread her legs wide.
"Raise your knees and spread them," he told her. "That'll give a man the best crack at your cunt. He can really get his face in there when your legs are like that."
To prove it, he lay on his belly with his face between Belle's thighs and licked long and hard at her clit. Belle, who was hot as a pistol anyhow, went immediately into orgasm. She writhed and twisted, moaning, "Oh, that's good. I need it. Oh. Harder, lick harder."
Her fingers were twisting in his hair, trying to ram his face even deeper into her cunt. Then he stiffened his tongue and drove it deep into her cunt as though he was fucking her with his tongue. Belle stiffened and went into another orgasm. Her cunt was brimming with juices. John left her like that and scrambled to his feet. Turned to Sandra.
"Now you lie down and I'll show you how it feels," he said.
Sandra was very anxious for the next lesson. In a flash she was on the bed beside her mother, imitating her position without a word of additional instruction. She was guiding John's head into position even as he stretched out on the bed. He gobbled her swiftly, noting that Sandra's cunt juices were much blander than her mother's in taste. Soon Sandra was in ecstasy as John's practiced tongue took her down the erotic path to orgasm after orgasm. Now it was her mother's turn to watch in utter fascination as John performed.
After the oral sex it was time for the instructions in fucking. John told them that there were probably as many different positions as there were people to perform them, but that all were variations on a few basic themes.
"Get on top of me," he ordered Belle. "No, not that way, I mean with your face to me. Now lower yourself onto my cock. See how deep it goes?"
Belle was well aware of how deep John's cock went. From the expression on her face it was obvious that she felt the enormous length of it almost up to her throat and that the sensation was far from painful. Her eyes rolled back until only the whites were visible and she was immediately off into another series of orgasms. Cunt juice was flowing freely from her and soaking the bed. Some trickled across John's belly and Sandra tenderly wiped it away with a tissue.
John pumped his hips slowly upward, driving his cock even deeper into Belle and she moaned aloud, ground her hips down to meet his. Her nipples jutted out an inch or more and John rubbed them gently between his fingers, then pulled her down so that her tits dangled above his face. Then he pulled her even lower and began sucking on them. First one tit and then the other entered his mouth as he alternated between them, nipping gently on the nipples with his teeth, sucking them deep with powerful intakes.
Belle's hips were grinding away at an even faster pace. She was raising herself up and then dropping back, trying to drive his cock still deeper. Her muscles were rigid with the continued strain. John was tiring, too, as he attempted to match her pace. Finally, when he felt himself coming, he lifted Belle with both hands and forced her off his cock.
"It's Sandra's turn," he said, trying to keep the tension out of his voice. The fucking was getting to him more than he cared to admit.
Sandra's cunt was far tighter than her mother's and he could see a twinge of pain flash across the girl's face as she forced herself down on his cock. He could feel the tip of it pressing hard against some internal organ. The pain and the discomfort soon vanished, however, as John pumped it into her. Sandra's expression softened. Her mouth opened slightly and her eyes closed. She was lost in a world of her own where nothing existed except exquisite sensation and a might cock that drove her into unimagined ecstasy. Had she known that fucking was like this she would never have remained a virgin for so long. She would have broken her cherry on the first cock that became available, instead of masturbating with the handle of her hair bursh.
Just when Sandra thought that she had reached the very peak of ecstasy John called a change of tune. He reached down and grabbed her legs, hoisted them over his shoulders. Then, very slowly, he began driving his cock even deeper into her snatch. Sandra gasped with the impact, almost fainted. She had never imagined that a cock could penetrate so deeply, fill her so completely. She had seen and fondled only ordinary cocks, those of the boys and young men in the neighborhood, and none of them, of course, had even been in her pussy. Only her brush handle had ever known that pleasure. Her brush handle and the middle finger of her right hand.
Sandra was making mewling noises now, strange sounds that were barely human. Belle, her mother, sat watching with a rapt expression of longing on her face and John knew that it was time to change partners again. If he did not, Belle might feel slighted and break up this remarkable relationship he'd stumbled into. He pumped hard until Sandra came one last time and then withdrew his cock.
"Your turn again, Belle," he said, "but this time I'm going to come."
Sandra lay inert on the bed as Belle stretched out beside her. Belle knew what to do without being told. Even as John moved to position himself between her legs she lifted them straight into the air so that they might rest on his shoulders. John slid it in and thrust it home.
Belle's cunt had been stretched by years of fucking with her husband-and the men she had known before him-and by giving birth to Sandra. John didn't hit bottom. He'd known many tighter cunts, of course, but there was nothing wrong with Belle's. A lesser man might have thought her loose, but not John. He had never yet met a woman he could not fill to the stretching point.
This fuck was really for him, so John forgot about bringing Belle to orgasm and plunged away. She came, several times before he was finished, but that was incidental. John could feel his balls drawing up, tightening. He could feel the pressure building above his balls where the reservoir of cum was located. He could feel the piercing beginnings of pleasure and pain that said he was about to shoot his load. And then it came. Jetting out from deep within him. Filling Belle to overflowing. Hot as scalding steam. Powerful as the jet from a fire hose-or so it seemed to John. His arms trembled and he collapsed on Belle, totally spent.
Into his ear she whispered, "How soon do you think you can come again, darling."
A few hours later they had all recovered enough to replenish their energies with a substantial meal. Belle was a fine cook, and John thought that he would need plenty of good food if he was to have enough energy for these two demanding women. Suzie had been great, a genuine nympho, but either of these women could match her any day and the two of them together would tax him to the utmost. John didn't think that he'd be spending much time washing dishes in the diner.
It was not until the next morning, after a long night of licking and fucking, that John read a newspaper and learned about Suzie's adventures in Fresno. MOVIE STAR RAPED, the headlines sang, but John did not believe a word of it. He was too familiar with the lengths movie publicity men would go to in order to obtain publicity for their clients. Suzie probably had a new film in the works in which she would be raped, and was building press notices in advance. He could not think of any other possible reason why she should be in Fresno, of all places. Her mountain retreat was near Big Pine, far in another direction. Maybe the new film would be set in Fresno.
Meanwhile, in Fresno, Suzie was beginning to have a difficult time. The local police chief and his captain were not that ready to buy her story of three men battling to the death for her favors. No woman was worth killing over, particularly by the men involved, they believed. Besides, the bodies had been recovered from the burned wreckage of the building and the coroner had made his report. They had been far from reduced to ashes and there was plenty left for him to examine.
Joe was identified and the cause of his death noted. Two broken ribs had penetrated his lungs, but there was no bruising of the flesh to indicate that a blow had been struck. Al had died of a fractured skull, and the base of the lantern exactly matched the deep hole in his head. The third man, identified as Leo Brank, a several times convicted felon, had been stabbed and ripped with the knife found at the scene of the crime, but the angle of the wounds indicated that someone much smaller than either Joe or Al had delivered the thrusts. It was obvious to the police that Suzie was not telling all she knew.
There was little they could do about this, however, except hint darkly that she was far more implicated than she had stated and that the investigation would continue.
The last thing Arnie or Suzie wanted was the suggestion in print that she had somehow been involved in the deaths of three men, however bad they were. Arnie, at least, had to know the true story and Suzie spilled her guts to him in the privacy of her hotel room.
Arnie was not surprised. He was familiar with Suzie's temper when aroused and knew that she was far stronger than a woman her size could be expected to be. It was Arnie, after all, who had insisted in the endless dance and calisthenics lessons. Finally, he suggested what to him was the only way out of the situation.
"You'll have to put out for those cops, Suzie," he said. "The only way to get them off your back is to get them involved with you. Can you imagine what would happen to their careers if they prosecuted you and word got out that they'd been fucking the defendant? The citizens of Fresno would run them out of town."
Suzie thought about his suggestion, agreed with it. "You're right, Arnie, and lord knows I've fucked for lesser things than my reputation. Remember when I first walked into your office looking for an agent to represent me? I'd been hooking on the Sunset Strip for my bread and butter. You told me what to do. You said, 'Instead of blowing tricks for twenty bucks you can be making ten thousand a week by blowing one or two film directors,' and you were right. Except that I make a lot more than that now and I don't blow or fuck anyone for my parts. You saw to that."
Arnie patted her on the hand. "You're on top now, kid, but I think you're going to have to turn a trick or two to stay there. Start with that police captain. He'll be coming over to question you again in the morning. Just turn on everything you have and play it by ear. You'll have him eating out of your hand in no time."
"Eating out of my cunt, you mean," Suzie laughed. "If he's like most men I'll have his prick out before he knows what hit him. Okay, Arnie, I'll take care of it."
When Captain Gracy knocked on Suzie's hotel room door at 10:00 the following morning he knew exactly what he was going to do and say. He was going to sternly inform Suzie that he did not believe a word of her story and was going to keep the case open until he had learned the truth. Then, if he felt that a crime had been committed or justice obstructed, he would take whatever legal action was necessary. Yes, he understood that Suzie was a famous and wealthy woman who could hire batteries of the most expensive lawyers, but he had the law to inforce and nothing would stand in his way. Now, was she prepared to tell her the truth?
Captain Gracy never got a chance to voice his opinions. Suzie greeted him in what appeared at first to be a very modest outfit. Her gown was floor length. The neckline was at her throat. The sleeves hung almost to her fingertips. He had been hoping for at least a peek at her famous body, but Suzie was evidently going to offer him nothing in the way of visual entertainment. Then she turned away to lead him into the hotel suite-and Gracy almost blushed at the sight.
He thought that she had to be completely unaware of the fact that as she walked between the light and him, her gown became almost totally transparent. And it was obvious that she wore nothing under it. Suzie, of course, had practiced just this maneuver before Arnie. The pink cheeks of her ass were clearly visible through the sheer blue of her gown. Between her legs, even watching her from the rear, he could see the hint of curly cunt hairs through the cloth. As she turned against the light the brown of her aureoles made a vivid contrast against the pink of her skin. Her nipples were erect, jutting against the fabric (they should have been; Suzie had massaged them for a full fifteen minutes after he had called and said that he would be over). Captain Gracy's cock strained hard against his pants. He was accustomed to dealing with the cheap whores of Fresno's streets, not calling on one of the century's great courtesans.
Suzie suggested that he sit beside her on the sofa and asked if he would care for some refreshments. "A drink, perhaps?" she suggested. "I have some excellent sherry."
"I never drink when on duty," the captain answered, "but perhaps some coffee if you have any ready."
In a moment the coffee in a delicate cup was in his hand. Suzie was sipping at a tiny goblet of pale sherry, leaning forward slightly in her seat so that the lamp beside her clearly outlined the delicate curve of her tits. The captain's cock was so hard and throbbing that he was afraid he would come in his pants. He turned his head away, blushing warmly, and tried to concentrate on his business.
"I must warn you, miss," he started, "that I'm not entirely happy about the outcome of your adventure."
"Oh; you poor man," Suzie sighed. "You mustn't worry about me. I wasn't hurt really badly, you know. Your brave officer shot that disgusting man before he could do anything worse than cut my arm. My own doctor has seen to it and tells me that I won't be disfigured by the scar. I will be able to work again. Please, would it be all right if I gave that brave officer a small reward for the danger he placed himself in?"
"He was in no danger, miss," the captain said, "not with that big .44 in his hand against a knife. In fact, I wish he hadn't killed that man. We might have learned something more about the case from him."
Then the captain realized that he had intended taking an entirely different tack with this woman. "See here," he said, "that's not what I came over to talk to you about."
"Anything you say, sir," Suzie said softly.
"What I mean is that some of the facts don't exactly tie in with your story."
"Oh, dear," replied Suzie in her softest and smallest voice. "Are you here to arrest me?"
"Not at all, miss," answered the captain. "What I meant was that not all the facts are clear and I'd like to straighten them out. For example. The positions of the bodies and the injuries to them don't fit your story that they were fighting with each other over you. I would suspect that they were all killed by one or more other parties."
"How terrible, captain," said Suzie. "Do you mean that after I ran away some other men broke in and killed them?" She rested one hand lightly on his thigh as she said these words. Captain Gracy jumped as though he'd been stabbed with a fork, instead of been touched delicately by those sensitive fingers.
"That's not what I meant, either," he finally managed to say." Are you sure that there were no friends of yours present at any time during your captivity?" The captain had his suspicions, but they did not include the impossibility that this tiny slip of a woman had herself disposed of three tough criminals, each at least twice her weight and ten times her strength.
"Why no, captain," she said. "How could you possibly think anything like that. If any of my friends had been present those ruffians would never have dared to attack me. Please, captain," tears slowly trickled down her cheeks, a trick she had perfected through countless hours of practicing the Stanislavsky method of acting, "please don't say that you suspect me of any complicity in this." She gently squeezed the captain's thigh to emphasize her emotions.
Captain Gracy could feel the pressure building in his balls. Where Suzie's hand rested his skin was aflame. He was afraid to look at the spot because the imagined heat was so intense he was certain that his pants were smoldering. Still, he pressed on with his questioning.
"I have good reason to believe, young lady, that you did have friends with you and that they murdered those men and set up their bodies to look like a fight had taken place. What have you to say to that?"
Tears now burst in torrents from Suzie's eyes. She sobbed deeply, clutching the captain's thigh a bit higher this time with fingers that verged just this side of steel hooks. Then she threw her arms around his neck and placed her head against his chest. Her tears soaked his shirt.
"Please help me, captain," she cried. "I'm so afraid and I don't know what I'm going to do."
Gracy's arm went protectively around her. He patted her on the back and was amazed to feel how seductive her flesh felt through the thin fabric. He was momentarily ashamed of himself for frightening the poor girl so, and for feeling the lust rise in him while he was on duty. The thought entered his head that he would probably give anything to spend the night fucking this delectable woman. Fucking, hell. At that moment he would have given half his pension just to have her jerk him off.
Suzie never gave the captain a chance to recover, once she was in his arms. Her lips nuzzled into his neck. Her warm breath tingled in his ear. She moved slowly in his arms so that his hand, resting on her back, slid across her skin. The hand on his thigh began sliding ever so slowly upward toward his crotch until the very tip of her finger touched lightly against his cock through the cloth of his pants. Then she let it rest there.
For minutes, the police captain sat there without daring to move, willing his cock not to twitch. If it did, she would realize that she was touching it and draw her hand away. She would hate him after that, he knew, and at this point the captain wanted more than anything in the world to be thought highly of by the fragile, defenseless woman in his arms. How could" he have suspected her of complicity in a crime. He must have misinterpreted the facts, or else she was right and others had come along after she left to kill the three men. Certainly, he thought, it was impossible that so feminine and helpless a woman could have deliberately involved herself in a crime.
"Oh, captain," Suzie whispered in his ear. "You're so strong. I need a strong man near me now. I'm so afraid."
"There's nothing to be afraid of," said the captain. "They're all dead now."
Suzie allowed herself to shudder at the word "dead," and tightened her grip on Gracy. Now her hand was definitely resting on his cock. Surely she must feel it, he thought.
Even the captain's iron resistance finally broke. He found that the hand on her back was moving of its own volition, gliding across her body and around the front of her rib cage. It slid under the heavy weight of her breast and cupped it for a moment, then daring fingers finally found the nipple and began a slow kneading motion.
Suzie pushed against Gracy as though she wanted to thrust him away, but as he began to yield to her apparent desire she melted completely against him, sobbing again. She took one hand in hers and pressed it to her lips, showered it with kisses. Now she kissed him on the lips, pressing her face against his, letting the salt of her tears trickle onto his lips. She took his hand again in hers and pressed it palm in against her left breast, held it there.
"Feel how my heart is beating," she said to him. "I don't know what's come over me. I shouldn't be doing this to you. I'll only hurt you later, or will you hurt me?
"Darling," she said, looking up into Gracy's ugly face, "Will you throw me away when you're tired of me? When you've used my body and taken my love? No. Don't tell me. I don't want to know. There's only now. We'll live in this night forever. Please, just don't hurt me too much." Then she lay limply against him.
Captain Gracy's mind was numb. If he had really heard what he thought he had heard, then this beautiful woman had thought that he was attempting to make love to her and was unable to resist him. His vanity knew no bounds. One of the world's most lovely women was his for the taking. Duty called for a swift retreat and mumbled apologies, but his hard cock called more strongly than duty. His hand began automatically unzipping the back of Suzie's gown.
She lay against him, allowing him to do what he willed. The gown came off her shoulders and now his hands were on the soft warm flesh of her back. It felt incredibly smooth and warm, alive to his touch. A bit of wetness dribbled from the tip of his cock.
The gown was now held to Suzie's breasts only by the pressure between his body and hers. He gripped her by the upper arms and held her away from him and the fabric dropped smoothly away to her waist. Gracy had never seen such tits. They were large, but without the least trace of sag. Their curve was one of perfect symmetry. The perky nipples peered up at him like tiny faces beginning to be kissed. So he kissed them and each tit in turn slid naturally into his sucking mouth. His hands, freed for action, were forcing the gown down to her hips and Suzie lifted herself off the sofa long enough for him to strip it completely away.
Now her lips were seeking his. Her tongue was pressing between his lips, into his mouth, meeting his own seeking tongue. Her hands were at the buckle of his belt, opening it, fumbling with the zipper of his pants. Gracy leaned back, taking her with him but leaving her hands room to deal with his fly. Then he was pushing his pants ana underwear down together, kicking them off. She was tearing at his shirt buttons now and he could feel one of them pop, but he didn't give a damn. His wife was accustomed to having him come home with damaged clothing. That was all in a day's work for an honest cop, and Gracy prided himself on his honesty. Never in more than twenty years on the force had he taken a bribe or compromised his integrity.
Now the two of them were naked, body to body, a tangle of thrashing limbs and groping hands. He was rolling her over. She was beneath him and her legs were spreading. His hand groped into the slot and began rubbing hard at her clit. Gracy knew all about women, he believed, and was aware of exactly what turned them off and on. He gave her a half dozen hard rubs on the clit and felt that she was beginning to dampen.
That was enough. He heaved himself up and with one hand fumbled his cock toward the slit of her cunt, forced the head of it in and rammed it home with one powerful thrust of his hips. Its grip was hot and tight and he was coming instantly. There were flashes of light. He could see them even through his closed eyelids. This was heaven. This was ecstasy. This was the ultimate delight that came to a good cop as his career drew toward its close. This was the ultimate fuck.
The lights flashed again. Gracy opened his eyes and looked up at the photographer standing there. "Hold it just like that," the photographer asked. "I could use another one from this angle."
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was a silent and sullen Captain Gracy who dragged his clothing on and then sat listening to Arnie and Suzie's lawyer explaining exactly what would be done with the pictures if the captain did not follow orders to the letter. He was to pursue the case no further. If he continued the investigation Suzie would release the photographs-reluctantly-with the statement that he had overpowered her, raped her. The studio photographer who always traveled with her had been on his way up from dinner and arrived just in time to catch the captain in the act. He had taken the pictures automatically, without thinking of what he was doing, instead of immediately coming to Suzie's rescue.
The public-and the captain's wife-might or might not believe Suzie's story, but the captain would be finished as a police officer. He might even lose his pension, possibly be found guilty of a crime and sentenced to jail. How long would he live in a jail filled with men he had personally placed there? And if he happened to be extremely fortunate and there were no serious consequences, the pictures would still make it impossible for any jury to take his word against Suzie's.
As for her reputation, Suzie was willing to risk it. This was a modern world, after all, where a single woman was considered free to take lovers if she wished. Her fans would not turn away from her. In fact, a bit of additional notoriety might enhance her box office appeal. The love lives of film stars have always been of value to their careers.
In any event, Captain Gracy was finished as a threat to Suzie's freedom. Suzie's action in trapping him for the photographer had proved to him beyond a doubt that she was implicated in a crime, possibly seriously, but it also prevented him from taking any action on it. It was a sullen and angry police officer who left her hotel room.
Suzie and Arnie were delighted with the results of their plot. It was true that she had killed the three men in self defense and that, had the facts been known, no court in the land would have found her guilty of a crime. But it was also a fact that no jury would have believed that a harmless looking slip of a woman could have done all that damage. They would have had to assume that she was not telling the truth, that there was a far uglier story behind the real one. She might have survived a full investigation and trial, but there would have still been a mystery left, one which associated her, however falsely, with the underworld. That belief could have finished her as a performer. They ordered champagne to celebrate the success of their plan.
Captain Gracy, however, was made of far sterner stuff than they had imagined. He had not been a successful police officer for so many years through shirking difficult duty, or through the avoidance of risks. He went straight to his boss, police chief Kelly, and then explained the entire situation.
Kelly thought long and weightly on the matter before rendering an opinion. It was obvious to him that from this moment on Gracy had to be off the case. Other men would have to handle it and the captain could only be involved far in the background. But Kelly's temper was up. He would not be foiled by Suzie. Someone had murdered three men, he believed, and although they were the sort of criminals he could gladly do without it was his duty to uphold the law. A life was a life no matter how badly it had been lived, no matter how devoted to evil it had been. After discussing the matter with Gracy at length, he picked up the phone and began assigning men to specific aspects of the case. Also he decided to personally conduct all future interview with Suzie. Forewarned about her ways, he would not fall into her trap as Gracy had done. But before confronting her he would allow two or three days to elapse. Let her believe that she had gotten clean away. Fresno was not that far from Hollywood. He would allow her to leave his city and then, later, beard her on her own territory. She might actually be more vulnerable there.
In Bakersfield, Belle and Sandra were debating how to handle the matter of their new playmate. They had long since agreed that they would share John's sexual favors. The trick was to do so with a minimum of friction and without attracting adverse attention from their neighbors. Bakersfield is not really a large city and, although modern attitudes have made major inroads there, the idea of a single man living in the same house with two attractive women might not be approved of. It would be necessary for John to marry one of them. They did not bother to consult John about this matter. After all, why should he refuse? In their opinion, they were conferring a great favor on the man by making him, through marriage, part owner of a successful coffee shop.
John took the news that he was going to marry Sandra without batting an eye. He merely nodded and said that it was an interesting suggestion and he would consider it.
"When will the marriage be?" Asked Sandra. "I think it should be as soon as possible."
"You may be right," answered John."
"I think this coming weekend would be best," said Belle.
"There's really no reason to delay matters."
John said nothing, but it was obvious that he was thinking about their plans. What was not obvious was that he was really thinking about what was the swiftest way out of this situation. Sandra and Belle were terrific fucks and learning swiftly to be excellent cocksuckers, but as for spending the rest of his life married to one of them ... forget it. He would be vanished from the city long before such a marriage could be made official. After the disaster with Suzie, marriage was the last thing he wanted, especially marriage that would trap him forever in this hot and dusty byway.
John needed the thrills and excitement of the big city. He had grown accustomed to a life among the glittering rich and had himself been within of such status himself. Somehow there must be a route back to such a life, and marriage to a Bakersfield coffee shop owner was not the route. So he would be going soon, but John promised himself that before he left that he would exhaust the erotic possibilities of Belle and her daughter Sandra.
John began the game by stating that he would marry Sandra in three weeks, not two days. He had never been married before, after all, and had to accustom himself to the idea. Also, there were arrangements to be made between him and the two women. Who would he actually sleep with? Would Sandra regularly share his bed at night and Belle be only an occasional visitor? Would he give the two women equal time. Or would they all share the same bed every night. He insisted that whatever their desires he, too, had something to say in the matter-and he did not know what that was as yet. When he decided on the number and ratio of his bedmates, he would tell them what his preference was. And he could not do that until he had sampled each of them a few more times, together and separately. So, for the next week, they would share his bed in rotation while he weighed the benefits of one against the other. When he wanted them both together he would let them know. Belle would start the testing off, since he had fucked her first.
In competition with each other, the women did their best to please John sexually. Belle had the bigger mouth and could take John's cock deeper down her throat. Also, she appeared to have more real talent for cocksucking and was quite willing to suck him to orgasm without getting-for the time being-any stimulation in return. She would hold his cock in her mouth for hours, at times barely moving her tongue against it and at other times thrusting her locked lips up and down the length of his shaft at a furious pace. Whenever she felt him about to come she would stop the action completely and squeeze the base of his cock until the threat of immediate ejaculation receded. Then she would begin the process again.
Belle also learned that John loved to have his balls sucked. He couldn't come that way, but the sensation gave him intense pleasure. Generally he allowed her to tease his cock with her lips and tongue and the depths of her mouth for several hours before he finally shot his load, which Belle would swallow greedily. Sandra always sat beside the bed watching the entire process and learning.
Sandra he fucked. He would place her legs over his shoulders almost immediately, so that he could plunge his cock into her cunt to maximum depth. Under the pressure of frequent fucking her internal organs began to rearrange themselves to accommodate the gargantuan proportions of his weapon. He would pump away at her for hours without coming, while she went through uncounted spasms. Their very first full night of fucking she easily surpassed the magic goal of one hundred orgasms that Suzie had longed for.
As the end of the testing week drew near he began extending the range of their sexual activities. He would grease her ass with vaseline, to make the admittance of his mighty cock easier, and plunge his shaft into her bunghole. This was painful for Sandra, at first, as it would for any woman when initiated by a cock of such remarkable size, but she soon became accustomed to it and learned that she could come hard and fast through being fucked in the ass. Belle had expressed doubts about the possibility the first time she watched it being done (Belle, like Sandra, was a witness at the fucking sessions when not a partner), but soon learned by observation that for a woman, coming by this means is not at all impossible. She begged John to fuck her that way, but he was adamant in his refusals.
"I'll fuck you in the ass plenty after Sandra and I are married," he told her. "Or maybe I'll marry you after all and fuck you that way anyhow."
On the next to the last day of the allotted time he relented. He asked Sandra to suck him off and told Belle that she was scheduled to be fucked that night. The women bathed and perfumed themselves for the night's efforts.
Belle sat by the bed while Sandra started the festivities by sucking John. Her smaller mouth would accommodate far less of John's cock than had Beele's but she compensated for the deficiency by the activity of her mouth and tongue. She nibbled on John's cock with her teeth until he was almost ready to explode. Then she eased the tension by licking him slowly and carefully all up and down the length of his shaft.
While she licked him, John took her hand and guided her finger until it rested against his asshole. Sandra knew exactly what to do from that point on. She shoved it in and massaged the inside of his ass while she sucked him.
It didn't matter to John after that that her mouth was really too small to give him a proper blow job. The intensity of the combined sensations-tight mouth around his cock and firm finger probing deep in his ass-caught him completely by surprise. Instead of taking hours before he allowed himself to come John shot his load into her mouth right then and there. The hot cum jetted from his cock in long and sticky spurts and Sandra had to swallow rapidly to keep from choking on the huge volumes of the stuff that he pumped into her throat. When he was finished he lay back on the bed and rested, smiling, contented. For a moment he really thought of marrying her and remaining in Bakersfield. The thought of being blown so completely for the rest of his life was tempting. Then he remembered the glorious days of his life among the stars of Hollywood and realized that no matter how lovely the blow jobs and the fucking, he could never be contented in Bakersfield. He resolved to see just how far he could push these two women who wanted him so desperately....
John gave Belle a thorough fucking when he had recovered from the blow job but his heart wasn't in it. He fucked long and hard, but mechanically and without real interest. It was great for Belle, who came time after time, but it was nothing to John. When he finally came in her snatch he rolled off her, said "goodnight," and went promptly to sleep.
The next morning, at breakfast, he began putting his plan into effect. He told the two women that he demanded more of them than their two bodies at his service. If he was to marry one of them they had to agree to bring other women in for his pleasure.
"I can fuck long and hard enough to keep half a dozen women happy so it wouldn't be fair to me if all I had was you two," the told them. "See what you can set up for tonight."
Belle and Sandra were not exactly happy at the thought of sharing him with still other women, but they were also stimulated by the idea of four or five people in bed together, all fucking or sucking away, and they agreed to go along with his desires. They left him alone in the house while they went out recruiting, looking for women among their friends who might be interested in an afternoon orgy. Through those long and intimate conversations women hold among themselves when no men are present they knew exactly where to cast their bait.
Irene was a neighbor of theirs, a woman in her late twenties who had married a man more than old enough to be her father. He was a widower with grown sons and it had been his wealth rather than his talent as a lover that had brought Irene to his bed. She had confessed months earlier to Sandra that the monthly fucking her husband was capable of did no more for her than create an interest in more thorough sexual exercises. Her stepsons were tempting her and she knew that sooner or later she would be drawn into an affair with one or more of them-probably all. If she did this her husband would sooner or later catch them at it and throw her out. Five years of effort would be gone down the drain. She would never see any of his money. Meanwhile, she spent hours locked in her bathroom, rubbing her clit to orgasm after orgasm and dreaming of the heavy cocks of her sons-in-law. She was ripe for any man who wanted her, if she could have him without the knowledge of her husband or his sons.
Celia was a former school chum of Sandra and about her age. She had been the wild girl of the high school, fucking every male who wanted her and building up an awesome reputation in the area. More than once she had taken on the entire football team, including the coach. And there had been the memorable day when her high school and its chiefest rival had fought it out to a nothing to nothing tie-and Celia had entertained both teams by inviting them to her parents' palatial home-they were away for the weekend-and lined them up on the back lawn behind a high screen of bushes. Then she had gone down the line blowing each player in turn. Since that day the joke most frequently about her was that she needed neither food nor drink, but got all her proteins, minerals and vitamins from sucking off available men. Irene was a more than willing candidate for John's bed.
Belle went straight to the home of her spinster friend Roxanne, who worked in the local branch library. Roxanne had the reputation of a woman who spurned the advances of all men. She was considered frigid by everyone who knew her except her one confidant, Belle, to whom she told the stories of her weekend visits to Los Angeles. There, far from the prying eyes of her friends and neighbors, she would haunt Hollywood Boulevard, picking up men as much younger than herself as possible. When she had two or three collected she would take them to the motel room she had rented in advance. Once there she would tell them to do with her as they pleased. For one night only she would be their sexual slave and no act, no matter how grotesque, was beyond her. She particularly loved it when a particularly young boy was available, one who had never fucked a woman before, and the others present could train him on her.
Roxanne was quite reluctant to take Belle up on her suggestion that she join in an orgy, particularly since it was local. The news might leak out, and then her reputation in Bakersfield would be ruined. However, there was a compelling reason why she considered the offer.
It had been three weeks since she had last visited Los Angeles. On her last visit one of the young men she picked up was a police officer in disguise and only the fact that she charged nothing for her services had gotten her the dismissal of the charges. The experience had frightened her into staying away from the big city. Meanwhile, she had been growing hornier daily. When it was explained to her that the other women present were just as anxious to keep the news of the orgy quiet-and when she considered the past three weeks of lonely masturbation, she agreed to participate.
John awaited the arrival of the woman in Belle's house like royalty. He wore nothing but a rich velvet dressing gown, embroidered with silk, that Belle had given him as an advance wedding present. He reclined in a heap of cushions centered on the living room floor. All other furniture had been removed from the room in preparation for the orgy.
The evening began quietly enough. The women lolled on the cushions, fully dressed, making casual conversation between themselves and with John. Cocktails were served, but no one drank to excess. John abstained, as he knew that even one drink might affect his stamina for the entire evening. Occasionally Sandra or Belle would place a hand inside his dressing gown and tenderly fondle his cock. The other women noticed this and were stimulated by it. The huge bulge it made against the fabric had their cunt juices flowing within minutes. All of them were ready, but none were about to make the first move.
Finally, Celia could stand it no longer. Sandra had just spent about five minutes fondling John's cock, out of sight but not out of the minds of the other women present. Celia, famished for cock, asked politely if she might see the treasure which would be put to their pleasure that night. John told her to help herself and lay back on the cushions.
Celia unbelted his dressing gown and peeled it back to reveal his naked body. All the women except Belle and Sandra, who were thoroughly familiar with the dimensions of John's weapon, gasped in awe. Celia did more than gasp. She lay down on the cushions between John's legs and immediately began sucking him off. The others gathered around to watch intently with critical and avid eyes.
Celia's intention was immediately obvious. She was intent on showing the other women present that she could make a man come whether or not he wanted to. Every trick in her vast cocksucking experience was put into play. She tickled the tip of his cock with her eyelashes, trying to "wink him off." She licked like a cat at the underside of his shaft, put her mouth around the head of his cock and then, slowly, absorbed its entire length down her throat. Like Suzie, she had learned the trick of opening her throat to accommodate excessively long cocks without choking, and she put that talent into play now.
When John showed no signs of coming through these procedures she began scratching his thighs, then started in on his balls. These, too, she sucked into her mouth, working them gently with her tongue. Nothing worked, however. John had been blown by the best of them. Even with her finger up his ass and massaging his prostrate gland she could not make him come.
Sandra, meanwhile, was becoming more and more excited through watching the display. She had always had a slight inclination to lesbianism and now, with the one male tool in the room temporarily denied her-John had made it clear that neither Sandra nor her mother could use his cock until the other women had been satisfied-she sought for another source of relief and caught the eye of Roxanne. This woman, too, was positively squirming with pent up sexual tension. Sandra knew that she might offend Roxanne with a sexual advance but at this stage she was willing to take any risk to get relief. She placed one hand on Roxanne's thigh and slid it slowly upward and into her crotch.
Roxanne did nothing to stop her but merely gazed at the offending hand as though she had never seen its like before. Indeed, Roxanne was cherry so far as lesbianism was concerned, but only because no one had ever approached her with a solid offer before. She had often thought of the advantages a female lover would present; no coarse talk about her from the neighbors and no necessity to travel to Los Angeles for the relief she occasionally needed. Sandra was the first to attempt her and she succeeded at once.
Roxanne grabbed Sandra's arm by the wrist and dragged it away from her crotch and Sandra had the terrifying thought that she had made a dreadful mistake and offended the woman, but her fears were soon soothed. As soon as Sandra's hand was out of the way Roxanne reached up under her dress and pulled off her panties, tossed them across the room. Then she smiled sweetly at Sandra and spread her legs invitingly. Sandra needed no additional invitation. In a moment her hand was busily working at Roxanne's cunt, parting it and searching for the clit. She found it already wet, thoroughly lubricated by cunt juice. She struck her thumb deep into the cunt and massaged the clit with her fingers. Roxanne raised her knees so that her dress slid back to her waist, spread her thighs as wide as possible and lay back with an expression of pure bliss on her face. Belle saw what was happening and joined in the fun, reaching deep into Roxanne's neckline to massage her swelling tits.
Irene was not going to be left out in the cold. She stood and stripped there in the room, the first of the women present to go naked. Then she sat down beside John and took him by the hand. John was almost oblivious to what she was doing, but his hand reacted automatically as it felt a wet cunt against it. Fingers without thought probed deep and massaged gently. Irene adjusted her position so that John could continue to play with her and, since Celia had gone back to licking the underside of John's shaft, took it upon herself to begin licking the top. When Celia shifted her attention to his balls she moved in swiftly, popping the head of his cock between her lips and sucking on it. She did not have the opened throat technique of Celia, but she made up for her lack of knowledge and skill with enthusiasm. And even with one woman sucking him off while another sucked his balls, and with a probing finger deep in his ass, his instincts were still strong enough so that his fingers in Irene's cunt never stopped their movement.
Now Roxanne began moaning with pleasure. Sandra had gotten to her faster than any of the young men in Los Angeles had ever managed. She was creaming every two or three minutes, spasming in intense orgasms, and these from only finger pressure on her clit and tits. When Sandra stopped the massaging fingers and the probing thumb she sobbed with frustration, her pleasures had been removed even before they had begun. Then she felt a hot and wet tongue working where fingers had been only moments before and all was well with her. She had been licked on the cunt before, but only occasionally. Once in a great while one of her pickups might be willing to please her a bit by sticking his tongue into her twat. On one great occasion she had actually come that way when a bisexual pickup went down on her-not because she was a woman, but to lick out the cum of the man who had preceded him-and continued until she'd had several orgasms.
This time, however, Roxanne had the tongue of a knowing woman in her twat, the tongue of a woman who knew exactly what was best for another of her own kind. Sandra licked her long, tenderly and lovingly, then stiffened her tongue and thrust it as deep into Roxanne's cunt as it would go. Meanwhile, Belle had opened Roxanne's dress down the front and peeled it away-she wore no brassiere-revealing her tits in all their splendor. Now she was sucking those tits, taking each in turn. Mother and daughter were combining their talents to give Roxanne the greatest thrill since she had lost her cherry to her father, many years ago.
Irene had swiveled around on the cushions by this time so that her cunt was presented to John's mouth for treatment and he had responded immediately. He licked deep and hard and her cunt overflowed with juices.
Celia was giving up on sucking John to orgasm. She was certain now that he would never come and resolved to get some pleasure for herself before the evening became much older. She stopped licking her cunt, looked up to see that John had his eyes closed and was cuntlicking Irene, and got up from the cushions to straddle John's cock. She sat down slowly on it, thrilling to the feel of it sinking deeper and deeper into her. Once she was fully settled, she began rocking slowly back and forth to get maximum satisfaction from the encounter. It was by far the biggest cock she had ever known, dwarfing that of her aged husband, filling her completely. Her first orgasm came even before it was fully plunged home.
Irene placed her hand against her stomach as she rocked back and forth on John's cock. She was sure that she could feel it there, hard, through her belly. Yes, she was certain of it. When she raised herself up and felt again she could feel the hard bulk lower inside her. She gripped it through herself as well as her small hands would allow and began rubbing it hard up and down.
This was a new experience for John, being fucked and jerked off both at the same time. He was unprepared for this and came almost immediately, spurting a heavy load of cum into her cunt. Then he shoved both women away; Irene from his mouth and Celia from his cock and lay back to rest a bit. He asked one of them to bring him a glass of orange juice for refreshment and settled back to drink it with enjoyment. Once he had recovered a bit they could go on with their play.
Roxanne and Sandra had switched positions at Sandra's suggestion. Sandra was getting tired of doing all the work while Roxanne got all the pleasure and thought it was about time to reverse positions. Besides, she was anxious to learn what Roxanne's tongue work was like. She now firmly believed that Roxanne had been playing lesbian games for years.
Roxanne hesitated only for a moment, staring in wonder at the first cunt ever to appear so close to her face. She reached out with the tip of her tongue and licked lightly against the spritely clit that poked jauntily up at her, then paused a moment to think about the taste. It was quite familiar. She had tasted something similar many times. In fact, it tasted exactly like her own cunt. Not that she had ever licked it. Often, however, she had licked her fingers clean after masturbating, out of curiosity. With no strange tastes to worry about Roxanne went blissfully to work on Sandra's pussy.
She was an inexperienced woman but an eager and willing learner. It had already occurred to her that after Sandra and John were married-if that event ever happened-she might be a regular visitor at their home, even when John was away. Her few minutes being licked by Sandra had convinced her that a woman was better than a man at producing just the right sensation in a hot clit and looked forward to regular repetitions of the experience. She had not yet received the hard hot length of John's cock in her cunt.
Roxanne's thoughts about the superiority of a woman's tongue over every other soft of sexual amusement were soon shattered. Her eyes were closed so she felt rather than saw what was happening. There was a momentary coldness and an absence of that lovely tongue and then a weight was settling onto her. Something enormous was taking the place of the tongue and for a moment she thought that Sandra had shoved her entire arm up her slot. But the huge object within her was too hard for an arm. Now it was slowly moving in and out and she was exploding with orgasms. Her body was writhing in a completely uncontrolled manner. The sensation hurt terribly, but at the same time it was the most wonderful she had ever known. What was Sandra doing to her? She opened her eyes and looked up to see John peering down, an expression of intense concentration on his face.
So this was what it was like being fucked by a real man. The youths she had enticed had never filled her like this or fucked her so strongly and gently. This was what she had been seeking all her life. To hell with Sandra and her agile tongue. To hell with Sandra, for that matter. No matter what the cost, she had to have this man inside her again. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Crossed her ankles to hold him there. Pumped her hips up in time to his downward thrusts. Roxanne was having the fuck of her life.
Belle and Sandra sat back and watched John work on Roxanne, envious but knowing that their turns would eventually come. John, they had learned, could go on fucking almost forever when properly stimulated. Thus far he had come only once, to their knowledge. They had seen him shiver and convulse while deep within Irene and knew exactly what was happening. With a bit of luck he would be able to last until he had fucked every woman in the room. Before that, certainly, he would demand that each of them blow him and at least one of them would probably get fucked in the ass. But if that was the price they would have to pay to keep him they were willing to pay it. A stud like John came along only once in a woman's lifetime.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Convinced that the situation in Fresno had been solved, Suzie packed at once while Arnie phoned to charter a plane to take them back to Hollywood. In little more than an hour a Lear jet was touching down at Van Nuys airport and the entourage was disembarking. Suzie and Arnie and the attorney, who had remained in Fresno so that he might be on hand if needed, climed into the waiting Rolls and were off to her mansion high in the hills above the city. They were out of the woods, all were sure, but steps should be taken to insure that nothing of the sort could ever happen again.
Despite her experience Suzie was determined to track down John and win him back. His absence had made her grow even fonder of him, if that was possible, and she yearned to have him once more between her legs. She would not seek him out herself, however, the recent bad experience had taught her the risks involved in such adventures. There were plenty of private detective agencies willing to take on such tasks and her resources were sufficient to afford a dozen such businessmen. She would send teams of them out looking, armed with photographs of John. Sooner or later one of them would track him down, particularly since they would be informed of his special sexual prowess. Surely, a man like John, even if he changed his name, would build some sort of a reputation as a stud.
In addition, there was work to be attended to. She had contracted to do a series of three movies and only one had been completed. Whatever else she was, Suzie was also a genuine professional at her trade. She had learned the ethics of the acting business on the legitimate stage, where the performers went on no matter what happened. Until the final curtain, nothing mattered but the show being performed. The audience, the paying customers, had to be given what they had come for. Suzie spent all the long night sipping coffee and studying her script.
Back in Bakersfield, John was spending the same long night in the most intense fucking session of his life. Irene and Roxanne had each felt the weight of his cock inside them and now lay exhausted on the cushions, all fucked out. John was in Celia, who lay there with her legs over his shoulders while he pumped in and out of her like a perpetual motion machine. His pace and force had not varied to any perceptible degree for half an hour. Celia had come so many times that the juices which lubricated her cunt were beginning to run dry. She had come until she could come no longer. The lining of her cunt was numb from the interminable plunging of John's cock. All sensation was leaving it. She felt nothing but relief when John finally pulled his cock entirely clear of her aching slot.
Then, suddenly, Celia's legs were being lifted even higher, pressed up until her feet were approaching her head. The cheeks of her ass were being parted. Something huge was pressing between them, seeking out the puckered opening to her ass, pressing against that hole.
Celia felt her asshole beginning to open under the pressure. There was nothing she could do to help John or to stop him. She was at his mercy. And she did not care. All her senses were dead. He could do with her as he willed, even if it meant tearing her ass open with that giant cock.
Then it was actually inside her, at least the head of it was. Nothing so large had ever entered her this way before and the sensation-sensation was beginning to return-was the strangest she had ever known. She had expected pain, but this was somehow different. It was not pain and it was not yet pleasure. Now he was even deeper into her guts and the sensation was changing. Becoming more intense. She had thought that he was filling her when he was in her cunt, but this was a vaster sensation. It was almost as though the tip of his cock was battering against the back of her throat from the inside. Her stomach was churning as though she had eaten too large a meal.
Now the sensation in her bowels was turning from possible pain to definite pleasure. This was like nothing she had ever known or imagined possible. This made fucking seem like a minor game that children played. Then the pleasure became so intense that she fainted.
When Celia recovered just a few moments later John had already pulled his cock from her ass and gone on to another partner. He was into his "duty" fucking, pumping long and powerful strokes into Belle so that she might have her pleasures, but it was obvious from the strained expression on his face that he was wearing down. The arms supporting his weight were trembling. Sweat was trickling from his face and body. He was thrusting mechanically and he didn't keep it up for long, but Belle seemed unaware of the passage of time. Her eyes were closed and there was a rapt expression on her face as she concentrated on what was taking place within her. She heaved a great sigh as she came for the final time and her fingers dug deep into John's back. He winced from the pressure of them and it was obvious that he was no longer enjoying the game. He did not come, but his cock seemed to have lost some of its hardness when he pulled it out of her. It was red, as though the outer layer of skin had been rubbed off. But there was no rest for John. Sandra was there waiting for her turn. John didn't even smile as he eased it in.
Sandra's fucking was swift and hard. From somewhere, John drew on a reserve of energy that carried him through until Sandra was whimpering and twisting beneath him, writhing like a bug impaled upon a pin.
Finally, John could withhold coming no longer. His elbows buckled and he collapsed on top of Sandra. Vast quantities of hot cum, stored for hours and long past due for release, spurted deep into her. Then he rolled off and lay on his back on the floor, cum still trickling from his shrinking cock. He was asleep within minutes. Belle covered him with a blanket and left him there, after tucking a pillow under his head. He would sleep at least until morning.
A week to the day before the scheduled wedding between John and Sandra, a wedding date he never intended to keep, Suzie's detectives caught up with John. He had gotten word through a trucker who made Belle's diner one of his regular stops. Apparently the story was known to every long haul trucker in California. Belle and her daughter had taken the diner's dishwasher in to live with them and a wedding date had been announced. Belle's daughter, Sandra, was to marry the man. The truckers had little difficulty in figuring out what was really going on.
Belle was too drawn and tired each morning and had too contented an expression on her face. Both Belle and Sandra seemed to sit uncomfortably, as though their bottoms were sore. And John, the dishwasher, was positively wasting away. There were times when he seemed about to fall asleep on the job.
Their curiosity aroused, several of the truckers had taken to watching Belle's house-they all knew where she lived-and noting who went in and out. A great many people did, at all hours, and all of them were women. They entered the house nervous and excited. They exited hours later relaxed, stretching, with contented expressions on their faces. Within two days John had a reputation all along the California highway system. Truckers who ordinarily passed the diner by began dropping in to cast covert glances at this formidable lover, the dishwasher who was taking care of more women than the average driver saw in a month, and he was doing it every night.
That was the sort of story Suzie's detectives were waiting to hear and, within hours, a car pulled up outside the diner and a jaunty little man carrying a thin briefcase stepped in. He chose a table in one comer of the diner and ordered coffee, then sipped it slowly as his eyes idled around the room. An expert divorce investigator, he could spot a woman who was getting it regularly at half a mile, and it was obvious to him that both the woman behind the register and the lone waitress were sexually satisfied. Then the dishwasher came out with a load from the kitchen and the detective became more watchful. He opened his briefcase and slipped out a batch of 8 x 10 photos, studied them carefully and matched them against the dishwasher. Yes, it was the same man. But whereas the man in the pictures was the image of robust health, the real man was haggard and drawn. The detective could tell from the glances he cast at the two women that he was ready to bolt, to leave the scene of his sexual excesses. Better get in touch with his employer immediately, or the search would have to be started again from scratch. He put the photos away and walked to the pay phone near the door.
Suzie was in Bakersfield less than two hours later. She had left the set on the first day of shooting, immediately on hearing the news. The chartered jet was waiting at the airport and airborn seconds after she went aboard. A car was waiting in Bakersfield and she was on her way to John. The flight had been so short that the aircraft had been unable to reach maximum altitude and speed before beginning its descent.
One glance around the diner and Suzie knew at once what the situation was. She accepted it. Indeed, she had assumed from the beginning that wherever he was John was involved with at least one woman. It was his nature. There was nothing to be done about it. And he could not be really blamed for the way women were attracted to him. They seemed to sense through some means peculiar to women that this handsome man was an incredible cocksman, a super stud. Well, she had found him. Now she had to accomplish two more goals; get him away from these women who thought they owned him and get back into her own life on a regular basis.
John had his back to Suzie and therefore could not see her, but he somehow sensed her presence. He stood there, seemingly petrified, then placed the tray of dishes on the counter and turned slowly to face her. For long moments they stood and silently stared at each other, unmoving.
John was the first to break. He dropped his eyes that had been locked to Suzie's. In a low, soft voice, he said, "Wait for me outside, please, Suzie. I'll be out as soon as I get my things together. And I have to say goodby to some very fine people."
He emerged about fifteen minutes later and climbed into the car beside Suzie, pulled the door shut behind them.
"To the airport, Miss?" the driver asked.
"Yes," was Suzie's only answer. She never asked what had taken place in the diner after she left.
Indeed, nothing had taken place. John had only excused himself to Sandra and Belle, saying that he had to leave for a few minutes but would be back. The women assumed that his errand was in some way connected with the impending wedding.
Suzie and John said nothing to each other until the car carrying them from Van Nuys airport drew up in front of her mansion. And then all that passed between them was Suzie's comment, "I have to return to the studio now. We're shooting today. Your room is ready. If you're tired, then sleep, I'll see you in the morning."
Before the week was over Suzie knew that bringing John back was a mistake. Whatever had existed between them was gone. They were still good in bed together, but the action was mechanical. Any body would have done as well. John fucked her like an automation, as though it was a job and he had to do it well or be fired. Suzie climaxed often enough but the intensity was gone. It would only be a matter of time before they formally broke off the arrangement. They were certainly more than merely civil to each other. In fact their conversations were friendly and often animated, but the fire was out and could not be rekindled. John would have left at the end of the first week had not the police captain, Kelly, decided that it was time to descend on Suzie and wring the truth from her. John was present at his arrival and felt that he should at the very least back her up during her time of difficulty.
Kelly reluctantly agreed to John's presence during the interview and even offered her time to call her attorney, but this she refused. She was on her home turf and did not feel that she needed legal assistance to deal with what she considered a small town cop. Also, she had decided to tell the truth and then let him try to prove anything against her in court. This would not be any confession of a crime and, if he attempted to bring up the matter in any court, it would be her word against his. The captain could really do nothing against her.
"So I killed them myself, officer," Suzie concluded her tale. "That's exactly the way it happened."
It was obvious that Kelly didn't believe a word she said. Now he knew that he was really on the trail of a crime. If the killings had really been in self defense a person as intelligent as Suzie would have taken advantage of the fact and told all the details. No, this woman was covering up a major crime. He would probably never get a conviction, he could see that now, but he at least wanted the satisfaction of knowing what had really happened. John sensed this and announced that he would tell Kelly the true facts of the case. Suzie, knowing that he was totally unaware of the facts, tried to stop him, but he winked an eye at her and began his story.
"It's like this, captain," he said. "We had a falling out among thieves. I'm the one who killed those three men, you see."
Kelly grunted. Now he was getting somewhere.
Suzie sat and listened, unable to comment on the outlandish story John was inventing.
"We'd been smuggling coke into the country from Mexico, flying it in to Fresno by private jet. We figured that no one would suspect planes landing so far from the border. And we got away with it for years. Made millions at it. Could have gone on like that forever if those fellows I killed hadn't gotten greedy.
"That's what the kidnapping was all about. They knew that Suzie here was getting the biggest share of the take while they did most of the work. That was because she was bankrolling the operation, taking the financial risk. When you're laying a million on the line for each shipment you're entitled to most of the profit. Right, captain?"
Kelly, believing every word he was hearing, could only nod agreement. This was the real thing and he would remember it all.
"So they grabbed Suzie and were holding her for ransom. They wanted five million, her profit from the past year of operation, and they wanted it in cash. Their mistake was in telling me where to bring the loot. They figured that I couldn't do anything but bring them the money because I couldn't go to the police.
"I had a gun with me when I got there but they searched me before taking me up to see Suzie. They missed my knife, though, and as soon as I was in the room I went wild. Stabbed one of the bastards and took care of the others with my hands. Suzie ran as soon as the fighting started. As soon as I saw the others were dead I grabbed the money and split. I didn't know that the last guy, the one your cop shot, was after her until I heard the news. Anyhow, that's the story."
Kelly was delighted. "Great," he said. "Now get your coat and come on down to the station with me. The L.A. cops will take your confession and then we can head for Fresno."
"What confession?" asked John.
"The one you just gave me," said Kelly. "I want it on paper, witnessed and signed."
"You're crazy, captain," said John. "You don't think that I'll repeat what I just told you in front of witnesses, do you? Why, that might get me arrested and I don't like jails."
Kelly was stunned. "If you didn't intend to confess, then why did you tell me your story?" he shouted at them. "What the hell are you trying to do to me?"
"Well," said John, "I just thought that you would be happier knowing the truth, even if you can't do anything about it."
When Kelly left he was an irate man, but there was little he could do. He did promise to devote the rest of his professional career to tracking down the evidence that would put both Suzie and John behind bars for the rest of their lives. The couple stood in the doorway and waved goodby as he stormed out of the house and down the driveway.
"He's happy, now," said John to Suzie. "He believes he knows the true facts and that all he has to do now is prove them. Since the facts I gave him don't exist, there's nothing he can ever do about them.
"By the way," he continued, "was that story you told him about killing those three men the truth?"
When Suzie nodded agreement he whistled softly and then smiled at her. "Honey," he said, "remind me never to make you angry with me."
For a while that afternoon, Suzie thought that the old fire had been rekindled between them. They made love in her bedroom where they had done so many times before, but this time there was a tenderness to the things they did with each other. John lay on the bed on his back, legs crossed, while Suzie crouched over him sucking on his cock. When they got tired of his position he knelt beside her, holding her head gently while site continued to suck him. She did this slowly and tenderly, and the thought of coming was far from John's mind. Then,, when he was ready, she mounted him and they began fucking.
This time there was none of the frenzied orgasmic thrashing around that had marked too many of their encounters in the past. The fucking was good but not intense and they both enjoyed it immensely. When it was over, John slowly licked Suzie's cunt until she came several more times. Then they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms. It had been good, but the passion was gone.
John moped around the house for two more days while Suzie spent her hours at the studio, but both knew that it was just a matter of time before they separated for good. He was finished in Hollywood, John knew. No producer would ever again risk millions in production money on his name. And he wasn't really a very good actor after all, he now knew. He had fooled Kelly, of course, but he felt that Kelly really wanted to be deceived. In fact, it was only the presence of Kelly's minions that kept him there at all.
They were in evidence all over the place. Standing on the balcony of Suzie's mansion and gazing off into the distance, John could see the sunlight glinting off several long telephoto lenses which were photographing everything possible about the goings and comings of the people living in the house. Each morning, when Suzie left for the studio, an unmarked patrol car followed her limousine while a copter hovered high overhead.
John, in his daily excursions to Malibu Beach, was followed by an entire team of undercover men in several cars. Once at the beach they would follow him in troops as he strolled along the edge of the surf. When he stopped for a hamburger they observed him through powerful binoculars to see if he was passing drugs, money or information to the counterman. When he rented a fishing rod at Malibu pier and spent a few hours dangling an unbaited line in the water, they sent for a diver and had him sneak under to inspect John's hook, to see if someone had tied a package of drugs to it.
Even the cook and the gardner were followed, with no results, of course. It is impossible to get evidence that will convict someone of a crime when the crime was never committed and the evidence, therefore, does not exist. At least it is impossible in America. The police could watch them forever and would always be unsuccessful. Suzie was terrified by the very thought of drugs and John, too, would never consider using them.
At the end of the week John said goodby to Suzie. She knew that it was coming soon and there were no tears. "Where will you go?" she asked.
"I'll find some place," he answered. "I'm through with the Hollywood life. I never really fitted in. I guess that I never was really cut out to be a rich man. Somewhere I'll find a small quiet town and settle down. Someone will hire me for a job, someplace. I don't need much. Those expensive movie industry tastes your friends have never really got to me. So don't worry about me, Suzie, I'll be okay."
Then he strolled down the drive and out of Suzie's life.
Despite the fact that she knew the parting must come sooner or later, Suzie was heartbroken. She had been genuinely fond of John even after the love had died between them and would have given up anything to have saved it. Even her career, she thought, knowing that she would never have actually surrendered that.
On the set, Suzie was unable to act. She went through her scenes listlessly, like the rankest amateur. There was no fire in her delivery. Take after take was made but none of the scenes shot was good enough to print. Finally, the director called a halt to the proceedings and sent the rest of the cast home.
"Maybe we ought to stop shooting for a week or so, Suzie," he said to her. "I can send all the people home and we'll pick it up again when you're feeling better."
"Thanks for the offer, Sam," she told the director, "but you know that we can't do that. Do you realize how much just one wasted day of shooting costs?"
"Better than you do, Suzie," he told her. "But I'd rather waste a week's costs than lose the film altogether. And if we keep on like this we may lose more than a week. In fact, I'm going to close down the film whether you want me to or not. I'm calling your agent, Arnie, and telling him to get you out of town for a few days, maybe down to Mexico. Have yourself a ball. Hire a few men down there to entertain you. Get yourself laid a few times, you know what kind of cure that is for anything that ails you."
Suzie smiled at this suggestion. Sam, who had directed all of her films for the past three years, was an old friend who could make the most outrageous suggestions and get away with them. But the thought gnawed at her mind that maybe he was closer to being right than he knew. Maybe what she needed really was a new man in her bed and a new background against which she might enjoy herself.
Mexico was out, however; too crowded with North American tourists, most of whom would recognise her immediately. No, it was time to retreat for a while to her mountain hideaway. She would let the matter of a new boyfriend resolve itself. For company, she invited her agent, Arnie, who had virtually designed and constructed her acting career.
Suzie thought about Arnie fondly and often. The pudgy, balding little man had been unerringly correct in his suggestions. He told her what clothing to wear, which hairdresser to patronize. Not only did he select her films (she read all submitted scripts and decided whether or not she liked them, but passed them on to Arnie for final approval) but he also assisted in casting even the minor parts so that she should be properly supported. He advised her on economic matters, warned her against so-called friends who were merely using her. Without Arnie she would be, at best, just another bit player scrounging for minor parts and fucking third rate producers even for those.
It was true, of course, that Arnie had brought John into her life and, indirectly, all the difficulties her friendship with John had let to, but the problems had not been Arnie's fault. She could only blame herself-and possibly John-for the direction events had taken.
Arnie accepted the invitation. He had a few other actors under contract but all of these were either working hard on films in production or out of the country and not due to return for some time. He was only too glad to get away from the pressures of the film industry for a few weeks, particularly if he could spend them in casual conversation with his favorite client. The trip was scheduled for only a week, but Arnie had a strong suspicion that it would be longer than that before he could coax Suzie back into acting form.
Both Suzie and Arnie preferred to rough it in style, so they prepared well for the stay in the mountains. By the time they left Arnie's camper-he did not care for the luxury cars the rich of the film industry favored, but preferred a more utilitarian vehicle-was packed with enough fine foods and rare wines to supply any ordinary couple for a month or more. In addition to the tins of caviar and the cold chest filled with Nova Scotia salmon, there were cases of the finest wines. The springs of the vehicle sagged under the weight as they pulled out of Suzie's driveway.
CHAPTER NINE
It was long past dark when Arnie finally drove his camper up the long and winding dirt road and into the parking area adjoining Suzie's mountain retreat. The servants had already gone to bed and Suzie, not wishing to awaken them, assisted Arnie in unloading all the supplies they had brought. They were both sweating and exhausted by the time everything was unloaded, too tired even to eat, so Suzie showed Arnie the way to his room and then staggered off to her own. She did not even bother to undress but flopped into bed with all her clothing on. In the morning there would be time enough to tidy up and change into the jeans and blouse that were her customary relaxation clothing.
Breakfast was a huge one, but Suzie rushed through it. Then she hurled herself into the activities of the day, going through the house like a whirlwind to check on what the staff had been doing in her absence. She checked on Arnie when she had finished these chores but he was still asleep, so she saddled her favorite horse and sent for a long ride in the hills, taking a few sandwiches and a thermos of coffee along for her lunch. It was late evening when she returned, unsaddled and brushed the horse and fed him. She was covered with horse and human sweat, filthy, and ready for a long soak in her redwood tub. Arnie was up and about somewhere but she did not bother to search for him. He would show up when he felt like it. Wrapped only in a towel she climbed into the tub for a long soak.
Arnie showed up a few minutes later, carrying a folding chair and dragging a cart on which were caviar, champagne in an ice bucket and two glasses.
"If you don't mind the company," he said, "I'll join you out here with a few refreshments."
Soon they were both sipping the cold wine and munching on caviar with crackers, gossiping idly about their mutual friends. Whenever Suzie stood up in the tub to reach for another helping of caviar, or to have her glass refilled, Arnie gazed frankly and admiringly at her perfect tits. He had seen them often enough, certainly, and without being excessively aroused by them, but in this mountain setting they had a renewed interest for him.
"That's a great set of knockers you have, Suzie," he said. "I've seen better, but not attached to equipment in a class with the rest of you."
Suzie took no offense at the comment. She was relaxed by the wine and besides, Arnie was one man who could say or do almost anything without offending her. "Aren't they great," she said in agreement, standing in the tub so that he could view them from a better viewpoint. "And still as firm as ever. Here, feel them."
Arnie had never touched her body before and, though he was not a prude, would have been shocked by the suggestion that he might. This time, however, he was mellowed by wine and the controls he ordinarily exercised over his erotic interests had slipped a bit. The fact was that Suzie turned him on enormously. She was his ultimate ideal of female beauty. She reminded him of his daughter, now living with his former wife. Had incest been acceptable to Arnie he would have dragged his daughter to his bed the moment she entered puberty, but Arnie had been strictly raised and would have cut off his own arm rather than touch a product of his own loins. Suzie was not his daughter, however, so he permitted himself many erotic thoughts about her. That he never acted upon them was more a product of their business relationship than anything else. Arnie thought that it was poor business practice for an actors' agent to fuck the clients. So all he did about Suzie was dream.
Arnie reached out and stroked Suzie's tits. They felt wonderful against the palms of his hands, soft and firm, warm and alive. Her nipples were soft and small, but even through the effects of the champagne he could feel them swell against his fingers, rise and thrust themselves out invitingly. The thought occurred to him that the touch of his hands on her tits had turned Suzie on. Would she accept him as a lover? Could the ravishing screen star, idol of millions, accept into her bed a man twice her age who, even at his youthful best, could never have been considered attractive? Better not ask. Even through the wine, Arnie knew that the best bet was to let nature take its course without pushing it. But his interest now lay in joining Suzie in that tub.
Suzie, too, was jolted by the thrill of Arnie's touch on-her tits. The offer to touch them had been made in playfulness but the effect had been far from playful. Was it her long abstinence from sex that had charged her up? It hadn't actually been a long one, merely a long time since she'd had anyone but John. She wanted Arnie to touch her again but did not know how to ask. They had been friends too long. She would not have minded asking a strange man at all. She knew, however, that she wanted Arnie's hands on her again.
"Would you scrub my back for me, Arnie?" she finally asked. "There's a sponge on the table over there." She nodded toward a table a few feet away, where sponges and towels lay heaped.
Arnie was on his feet at once, gulping down the rest of the champagne in his glass and then refilling his own and Suzie's. He noted that she gulped hers, also, instead of sipping it, as though she was trying to get the maximum effect as swiftly as possible. Then he was holding the sponge, soaking it in the soapy water and gently rubbing it against her back. Occasionally his fingertips touched against her skin.
Suzie crooned softly in delight as the harsh texture of the sponge stimulated her skin. She leaned forward in the water so that it lapped against her chin, giving Arnie access to her entire back.
"I'd better take my shirt off if I'm going to wash your back properly," Arnie said, "or I'll get my sleeves wet. And this watch of mine is not waterproof."
He finished his champagne before doing so and noticed that the bottle was empty. He didn't know what he wanted to do next; go for another bottle or continue scrubbing. Suzie settled the matter.
"Don't bother with any more wine," she told him, stretching luxuriously in the tub.
Stripped to the waist, Arnie began again on her back. He noticed that Suzie was rocking back and forth in the tub rhythmically, but thought nothing of it.
"That's enough sponging," Suzie said. "Please soap my back again for me, Arnie."
There was no washcloth. Arnie dropped the sponge into the tub and picked up the bar of soap floating there. Then, after soaping both hands, he began rubbing the lather into Suzie's back.
Her skin was alive under his fingers. The contact between her skin and his hands sent an electric charge through Arnie. He could feel his cock stirring, rising to attention. He slid his soapy hands down over her shoulders and then behind her arms, into her armpits. Her arms clamped down for a moment to hold his hands there, and then released them. They slid forward to soap the sides of her tits and under them. He could feel their weight and lifted them slightly with his fingers.
Suzie felt entirely different to Arnie through a layer of soap. The slickness produced by the lather lent an especially erotic flavor to the act and Arnie could feel a slow beat like the ticking of a clock in his cock. Once back in the city he would have to find someone swiftly to release the pent up energies in his organ. Arnie began to doubt that he could spend a week alone with Suzie-the servants did not count-without sexual release.
Now Arnie's hands slid back up to Suzie's shoulders, away from her tits, and she leaned back in the tub, threw her head back and heaved a sigh of contentment. Without even realizing that he was doing it Arnie lowered his hands along her chest until he was cupping her tits from behind, fondling them, squeezing gently on her nipples which were firm and fully hardened. He looked down at Suzie and her face was tilted up toward his, eyes closed, lips inviting. Arnie stooped and kissed her.
Suzie was feeling no pain. The wine and the hot tub had relaxed her completely and the sensation of Arnie's fingers gliding across her skin was delightful. When they paused at her nipples an electric shock shot through her clear down to her cunt. She thought sometimes that there must be a direct nerve connection between her tits-especially her nipples-and her cunt because a touch in one place caused a sensation in another. Under the right conditions she could actually come just from having her tits massaged. That was what was happening now. Under the stimulation of the wine and the conditions of the tub, the clear mountain air and the removal of immediate tensions, she was coming just from the touch of Arnie's hands on her tits. He rocked back and forth in the tub, rubbing her pussy against the boards.
She had thought on occasion about what Arnie might be like as a lover, as all women think about all the men they meet. He would be sweet but ineffectual, she decided, and his cock would probably be thick but very short. That was because Arnie himself was thick and short, and she imagined his cock as in proportion to the rest of him. She had long since decided that although she would not dismiss the possibility of making love to Arnie completely, it would take unusual circumstances to bring him to her bed. Also, she too believed in not mixing business with pleasure. Suzie began to think, however, that this might be that very special set of circumstances.
It was Arnie, after all, who was delivering that exquisite pleasure to her tits and through them to her cunt. It was Arnie whose soapy, searching hands were exploring at least the top half of her body. It would be unfair not to allow him to search a bit more extensively. She heaved herself up onto her knees in the tub. Now Arnie could reach as far down as her belly-or further, if he wished to and had the nerve. That was what it would all depend on now, she thought to herself, on how much nerve Arnie had.
Under ordinary circumstances Arnie would have quit long ago. He was really very shy with women, believing that all of them found him physically repulsive. His mother had told him he was ugly and his father had agreed. He had married only because his mother made the arrangements, found a wife for him and made the proposal to her family. When the wife, who he had never loved though he fathered a daughter through her, left for another man he was actually relieved. He had always been afraid of her.
Champagne and the circumstances served to defeat Arnie's fear. As Suzie rose in the tub his hands stayed at the same level, and found themselves massaging soapily the gently swelling curve of Suzie's belly. On the lower reaches of this area was a thicket of soft and curly hair and, gradually, his fingers delved deeper into it, found the upper edge of a groove in Suzie's flesh.
Down the length of the grove one finger slowly probed. Suddenly the flesh felt different there, moister, slicker, hotter. There was a nubbin of flesh sticking up in the slick groove and Arnie's fingers found it automatically.
Suzie's eyes closed tight and a shudder ran through her body. Arnie had homed in on her target dead center. Once any man managed to get a finger on Suzie's clit she was powerless, completely at his mercy. There was now no need to rub her pussy against the rough boards of the tub. Arnie was doing a far better job of bringing her off. Now if he would only join her in the tub.
Arnie had finally thrown caution to the winds. While one hand was probing into Suzie's cunt, rubbing her clit, bringing her off time after time in great wracking orgasms, the other hand was unbuckling his belt and pushing down his pants. Then he kicked pants and underwear free and, without releasing his hold on Suzie's cunt, climbed over the edge of the tub.
There was more than enough room in the tub for the two of them. The old wine cask could easily have held half a dozen people and there were occasions, at parties Suzie had thrown, when more than that number of tipsy guests had crammed themselves into it. Now it held only two, however, and those two fumbled for each other as humans in the grip of lust have since the first cave men walked the earth. Nothing changes sexually in human behavior except the background against which it is played. From the first humans to the last, there will be no difference in the response to the touch of flesh against flesh.
Suzie lay back passively in the tub for a while as Arnie's hands roamed over her body. His hands probed deep between her thighs as his mouth clung to her tits. For a long while they lay there in the tub like that with Arnie massaging her clit while sucking long and gently on each tit in turn. The combination of clit stimulation and tit sucking had her coming time after time. The sensation was utterly luxurious. The steaming, scented, soapy water of the tub enhanced every touch. Her nerves tingled up and down her body. Arnie was doing wonderful things to her.
Finally, her hands sought his body. She was surprised at the play of muscles in his arms and shoulders. She had always thought of Arnie as a little fat man, soft as a tub of butter. His mind. and talent had always impressed and excited her but .she had assumed that physically he was almost totally undesirable. Now she felt immense strength in him. It seemed that he was not fat, but instead ridged with muscle. Some men were like that, she knew. Without exercise or effort they grew muscles that weightlifters would be proud of.
Her hands crept lower and fondled his ass. There he was padded a bit with fat, but not as heavily as she had thought. There was obviously more to Arnie naked than the eye might suspect from seeing him fully dressed.
Finally she groped down between them to where his knee pressed hard against her thigh. It wasn't his knee. Where the knee should have been was the biggest cock head Suzie had ever known. It dwarfed even John's huge member. It was as big and round as an apple. Its skin was smooth as velvet and it twitched a bit as her hand caressed it, throbbed against her. She would never be able to suck this cock, she thought. It was actually too big to fit between her lips.
Her hands sought his cock shaft to stroke it. Thick, massive, entirely in keeping with the thickness of its head. It wasn't as long a shaft as John's, not by an inch or so, but the entire bulk of it was twice as great.
Arnie sat back in the tub, unable to stay balanced on the balls of his feet any longer. Now his balls were within reach and Suzie grasped them in both hands. It took both hands to hold them. They were full and round and the sack of skin that held them felt stretched almost to the bursting point. She wondered at the amount of cum balls like these could produce. No point in wondering any longer. Arnie was in a sitting position in the tub so she eased herself onto his lap and guided his incredible dong into position. Then she slowly lowered herself onto it.
Suzie thought that having a baby must be almost like this. Arnie's cock head was almost as large as a baby's and it stretched her cunt to its limits. She thought she felt flesh tear at one point and there was a momentary flash of pain. It was almost like being a virgin again. After all these years-Suzie had been fucking regularly since the age of twelve-she was again losing her cherry.
She continued to work her way down and onto Arnie's cock, wriggling from side to side to accommodate its passage into herself. Finally it filled her. Completely. There would not have been room for another fraction of an inch. It may have been a bit shorter than John's but its thickness stretched her cunt and shortened that organ at the same time.
The pressure against every inch of her insides was just short of painful, so she sat there for long minutes without moving, waiting for the pressures to ease, for her cunt to accommodate itself to its contents. Arnie, too, sat there without moving. He was content just as he was, filling her. And without the slightest movement having taken place Suzie felt an orgasm building within her.
She had read of such things in books. There are ancient love techniques developed thousand of years ago in the East, methods whereby a man and a woman can remain connected for hours on end without moving, yet still retain hardness in the man's member and still deliver intense orgasms to the woman. Arnie and Suzie was rediscovering them.
Now Suzie was engulfed by what seemed one long and continuous orgasm. It went on and on, never abating, just building higher and higher in intensity until she almost fainted from the pleasure of it. Her fingernails gouged deep furrows in Arnie's back and the blood trickled from them. She leaned forward and rested her head against his shoulder. Her lips were against his skin. Without conscious thought her mouth opened and her sharp white teeth sank into Arnie.
He never felt it, or at least it seemed that way. Arnie didn't even blink as her teeth drew blood. Instead he grabbed her by the hips and slowly lifted her until half the length of his cock had been withdrawn from her cunt. Then he slowly lowered her until she was filled again.
Now Suzie was a scratching, biting wildcat. The sensations she was feeling were almost unbearably intense. Short, fat Arnie was getting to her as no other man ever had. Even John had never stimulated her so strongly. Even at orgies, where a dozen men or more in a row had fucked her, the pleasure had not been this great. Was it possible that she had at last found the great lover of her life? Could she cease her restless search for sexual fulfillment? Only time would tell, but for now Arnie was enough for her. She began working her hips against his, pumping them forward and back, pulling his cock from the depths of her cunt and driving it in again.
"Please, come," she whispered into his ear.
Later there would be time to experiment. Later they could experiment for hours to find the sexual acts that pleased them most. Now was the time for short and intense pleasure that both would enjoy. Now was the time to come.
Arnie had been ready since the moment he climbed over the edge of the tub to join her. He had been holding off only to extend her pleasure, and not because he wanted to delay his own. He did not need a second invitation.
Arnie's hips began to pump his cock into her at an ever increasing rate of speed. Faster and faster, deeper and deeper as it swelled a bit more, now that his orgasm was approaching. Suzie, in turn, hurled her hips forward and back in exact time to his mighty thrusts. They finally came together and she could tell from the force of his jets within her that the volume of his cum must be huge. Their arms went around each other and they held fast until long after the spasms of his cock had subsided. Then they slowly climbed from the tub.
Arnie and Suzie stood there naked in the sunlight, inspecting each other's bodies. Arnie saw what he had expected. The long and graceful legs. The fullness of her hips and the slenderness of her waist. The perfect tits thrusting outward. The soft curve of her belly and the thatch of curly hair below it with the pink lips of her cunt peeping through the tangle.
Suzie saw a barrel of a man with corded muscles like hawsers beneath his skin. Each time he moved they knotted and rolled beneath his skin. His legs were like thick pillars and they were probably needed to support his powerful torso. His arms were long and as muscular as the rest of him, almost like an ape's. But what fixed her eyes and held them was the thing that sprouted from his own patch of crotch hair. Even flaccid and in repose it was impressive. Thick and corded with veins it dangled there, almost purple in the waning sunlight. The thought occurred to Suzie that compared to this man John appeared a child. With a bearskin cape over his shoulder and a huge club in his hand, Arnie would have looked totally at home one hundred thousand years ago, when Neanderthal man was the highest form of human life. Suzie had studied a bit of paleoanthropology and wondered now if her professors had been entirely right when they told her that the Neanderthalers had been wiped out by more advanced forms of men. If they were anything like Arnie they were never wiped out, she knew. Her fat and ineffectual agent had been transformed by the removal of his clothing into a mountain of formidable muscle. Well, not a mountain, perhaps, but at least a hill of impressive dimensions.
The sight of him standing there was too much for Suzie. Swiftly she knelt before him and grasped his cock. It swelled at once in her hands, ballooning in size as the blood pumped into it until it was as she remembered it from the tub. It was so large and heavy that even when fully erect it dangled almost straight down. Its weight was so great that it could not jut out as most men's did.
She raised it to her lips and tried to fit her mouth around it but her lips would not stretch that far. They were extended to their limits but there was no way she could suck him off. She wanted to desperately, more than she had ever wanted to blow a man before, but he was beyond her capacity. Well, at least she could lick him.
This she did, carefully and lovingly. Her tongue traversed every inch of his cock. Her teeth nibbled down the side of it. And while tongue and teeth did their work her hands supported the weight of his balls, rolling them softly between her fingers.
They were as weighty in proportion as his cock. A bull would have been satisfied with them. She could imagine the vast quantities of sperm they could produce. It was a good thing that she took her pills regularly or surely that last fuck in the hot tub would have impregnated her.
Suzie thought about what it would be like to bear a child by this man. She had always dreaded the thought of being a mother, of having her lovely body stretched and distorted by another creature growing within her. Her tits might never return to normal, who would want her as an actress if she lost her figure? Still, the impulse was there and Suzie knew that if this new affair lasted she would some day be giving serious thought to bearing Arnie a child.
Arnie could take having his cock licked just so long and then he had to act on it. He picked Suzie up in his arms, handling her as though she was light as a feather. Then, both of them still stark naked, he stalked toward the house still carrying her.
The servants were inside and they stared in blank amazement as he walked past them carrying their mistress. They said and did nothing, however. It was obvious from the way that she clung to him that she was where she wanted to be. They had seen her in similar situations before and had become accustomed to fucking sessions taking place at the mountain retreat. All of them had worked at one time or another for other members of the motion picture industry, and orgies were common in those social circles. There had been times when the servants, too, had joined in such festivities.
Once in the bedroom, Arnie gently lowered Suzie to the mattress and stared down at her. She lay there, unmoving, awaiting his pleasure. Arnie decided that his pleasure was going to be bringing her pleasure. He sat on the bed beside her, one hand resting gently on her belly, and pushed her thighs apart. His free hand slid between them and groped for her cunt. This time he was watching closely to see what he was doing and he went unerringly to the tiny bundle of concentrated nerve endings known as a woman's clit. Every part of it is extremely sensitive and it is a rare woman who can resist a man once he has made contact there. All will to resist vanishes, then, and she becomes a man's plaything. Suzie was in that state as she waited for Arnie to do as he willed.
First he licked her, lying full length on his belly with his head between her thighs. He raised her knees a bit and spread them apart so that his tongue could reach deeper into her slot. Her juices were rich and musky as he licked them away. She shuddered each time his tongue washed over her clit and thrust her hips up to meet his mouth.
Arnie's arms were under her thighs and on her belly to hold her in place. His hands reached up to massage her tits while he licked away at her. Every so often her thighs would tremble and then close around his head. Arnie knew instinctively that at such times she was in the throes of orgasm.
Through it all, Arnie knew exactly what he was doing. He had realized while still leaning over the tub, or at least finally admitted it to himself, that he loved this woman not as a daughter but as a desirable female he wished to spend the rest of his life with. He knew that he could not offer her the male physical beauty most women wanted in a lover, but he realized that there was something else he might substitute. If Suzie considered him a vital lover she might accept him on a regular basis. That she could ever come to love him was beyond his expectations, but he would settle for a good deal less. Meanwhile, the pleasures her body was offering were enough and he would protract these for as long as possible. When she recovered her senses and realized exactly what he had done-Arnie was convinced that the champagne was responsible for her actions and that Suzie was far drunker than she really was-she would tell him to leave her and never return. Arnie wouldn't miss the money her fees amounted to but he would miss Suzie. Even so, the pleasure of having her now was worth any risk. He would face her anger tomorrow. Now he nuzzled his tongue deeper into her snatch.
Because of the size of his cock Arnie was really limited in what he could do to Suzie. He couldn't force his weapon into her mouth. He might have tried her ass, but he knew that the woman had never been born whose ass could take a cock the thickness of his own. Fucking was the only route left to him.
Arnie climbed between her legs and spread them even wider apart. He felt her hand creep down and grasp the shaft of his cock to guide him home. The lips of her cunt were wet with love juice and the head of his cock slid between them with little difficulty. It took effort to force it the rest of the way in. Then he shoved his hips forward and began pumping slowly.
Suzie thrashed her head from side to side. There was foam on her lips as her first orgasm hit. Then her entire body was twisting back and forth beneath him and her fingernails were again gouging deep into his flesh. He pulled his cock out almost all the way and held it there until her hips thrust upward and her cunt opened to snatch at it like a devouring mouth. It was almost as though she could really suck with her cunt, he thought, judging by the way that organ seemed to suck him into its depths.
He eased himself to a higher position and drove harder into her, pounding away as though he were driving piles to anchor a pier or a bridge. He pumped it in as hard as he could and she pumped upward to meet him. Her legs swung up and around his waist. Her ankles crossed and locked to hold him there. Animal sounds came from deep in her throat. Her lips pulled back to reveal the white teeth, bared to bite. She was not a woman, now, but a female animal in rut, taking her mate as hard as she could, demanding all that he could deliver and then extracting even more.
Now she released her ankles from their grip on each other and raised her legs still higher. She pulled them back toward her chest, passed them beneath his arms and then settled them on his shoulders.
"Higher," she demanded. "Get higher."
Arnie moved higher up on her body at her command. Now his cock was plunging into her almost vertically, reaching even deeper than it had before. It may have been painful for her when they started fucking but it certainly wasn't now. Suzie was actually snarling in frustration because she wanted that cock in even deeper and it would go no further. Her arms reached out and her hands grabbed him by the ass, trying to pull him even deeper into her. Then he was coming also. The cum jetted out in heavy spurts to fill her completely. Slowly, he rolled to one side so that his weight would not fall on her, then rolled over on his back. His cock was limp, now, though not completely shrunk. Cum still dribbled from its tip, across her belly and down his thighs. No matter. It could be washed away later. Now was the time for both of them to rest.
CHAPTER TEN
A week of rest and recreation with Arnie did wonders for Suzie. The gauntness left her face. She was bronzed by the sun. The sparkle had returned to her eyes and she was ready to return to work.
Arnie was her constant companion during that week, Each day they went riding through the high mountains. Arnie, it developed, was an experienced horseman, far better than Suzie. And when casually dressed in jeans and an old shirt it was obvious that there was far more than a balding fat man to him. At night he was the lover she had always dreamed about and they often fucked until dawn brightened the sky. He was tireless in bed, and there was none of John's mechanical attitude about the way he made love to Suzie. They hadn't discussed the matter yet, but it was obvious to both of them that theirs was going to be a lasting relationship.
The only shadow on their lives was the occasional hint of Captain Kelly hovering in the background. Occasionally they caught the glint of sunlight off glass and knew that the police officer and his minions were watching them. Suzie had told Arnie the whole story of course, including the tall tale John had passed on to Kelly, so Arnie was not particularly disturbed at the presence of the police.
"Kelly might be doing you a big favor by watching you so closely," he told Suzie. "Someone as famous and wealthy as yourself is always a target for crackpots and criminals. With the captain watching you like this you actually have police protection at all times."
"I hadn't thought of it like that," Suzie laughed. "Perhaps I ought to call him from time to time, in case he loses interest in me and decides to call off his men."
"He'll be after you for years," Arnie told her. "A man like that hangs on like a bulldog. Until he retires your case will be open, and even after that he may make a hobby of trying to catch you at something. Many dedicated police officers are like that."
"Some day I'll try to convince him that my first story was the truth," said Suzy.
"He'll never believe you," replied Arnie. "To him, the idea of a fragile woman taking on three hulks like those is simply beyond belief. No, I'm afraid that you've got a follower for life. And I assume that he believes I'm part of the gang, too. Possibly your chief counselor, or even the ringleader."
"Well," said Suzie, "everything turned out for the best after all. If it hadn't been for John, for example, we would never have gotten together. I wonder where he is right now, what he's doing."
John was hitchhiking south from Oregon at that moment. He had gone to Seattle, since it was about as far as he could get from Los Angeles without leaving the Pacific coast, but there was nothing in that City to his liking. He felt lost and discontented. He was afraid to strike up new friendships after the disasters which seemed to have followed him everywhere. Perhaps he was a Jonah, someone doomed to bring troubles to everyone who befriended him.
A few women had made overtures to him during the past week or two but he had remained aloof from them. He went to bed with them of course, because he was young and healthy and his body demanded sexual release, but he got little more than mechanical pleasure from them. One had stirred him slightly, an artist he had struck up a conversation with at a diner in Gold Beach, on the Oregon coast, where the Rogue River meets the sea.
A trucker had dropped him there and he had gone into the diner to see if they needed a dishwasher, or someone to clean the premises. They had a full staff, but the owner offered him a meal if he would sweep down the parking lot and clear it of rubbish. Afterward, he sat at the counter and almost accidentally struck up a conversation with the woman sitting beside him.
She was traveling through in her camper, is seemed, stopping occasionally to paint the scenery. She had gotten tired of her own cooking and stopped in for a meal. Would John (he had introduced himself) like to stop by her camper and see her paintings?
There was the hint of something else in her suggestion which John immediately detected. It made itself evident the moment the door of the camper closed behind them. Oh, she was certainly an artist; the walls of the camper were covered with her paintings and extra canvases were stacked against the furniture. Her clothing was smeared with dried paint and her hands showed traces of it. But showing her paintings was the last thing on her mind.
As soon as the door closed she turned to him. "I brought you here under false pretenses," she told him. "What I really wanted was to fuck you."
John had received many propositions before, but never one as direct as this. "Are you that hard up?" he asked her.
"I haven't had a man in weeks and yes, I'm horny. Women get that way too."
"I understand that," John said, "but why me?"
"Because you were there and because you're not a bad looking man. I sensed something about you, that maybe you're a good lay."
Even as she spoke she was stripping off her clothing. John saw that she was a natural blond. Her cunt hair was a soft gold that made John want to run his fingers through it. He did so and immediately one finger found the nubbin of her clit. His finger stayed there and in a moment it was moistened by the flow of love juice from her slot. With one hand he stripped himself, the girl assisting as soon as she was totally nude. Then she gripped him by the cock and expressed admiration for its size.
"Looks like I found me a good one," she said. "Haven't seen a cock like this since I last visited the San Diego Zoo."
John laughed. "You mean the gorilla there was this well equipped?"
"No," she said, "but there was a zebra with a hardon in one of the pens and I swear that he had a dong on him a yard long. Yours would be small, but only on a zebra. For a man, you're damn well fixed. Shall I suck you a bit before we fuck?"
John had never met a woman like this before. He'd had them make similar offers, but not before they'd already been intimate. "Do you always act so directly?" he asked.
"Always," she answered. "Why wait for the man to invite me. I can't understand these women who always wait for the man to make the advantages. That way they get laid only by the men who want them, never by the men they want. I saw you cleaning up in that parking lot and you turned me on. Those pants of yours are tight and your prick bulged inside them. Also, you have a hard round ass, which is another turn on for me. If you hadn't sat down next to me I'd have moved over to you, or waited for you outside in the parking lot."
She had nothing more to say, because by that time she had moved far enough down in the bed to reach John's cock with her mouth. Her lips closed over it and he could tell by the way she swallowed almost its entire length that many another cock had been there before his. He was about to settle down and enjoy the sensations stealing through him when she squirmed around on the bed and brought her cunt within reach of his mouth. Fair is fair, he thought, and grabbed her by the hips to pull her closer. Moments later nothing could be heard in the camper but sucking and slurping sounds as they ate each other. The bed trembled slightly every time she came.
John stopped licking her cunt just long enough to warn her that he was about to come, but she paid no attention. Some women objected to swallowing a man's cum, or even to his shooting off in their mouths at all, but evidently this one was not that kind. His mouth was filled with her love juice-she had a particularly wet cunt-so why shouldn't her mouth be filled with his. When he came, in hard, hot jets, she swallowed all of it. He could taste it on her lips when they kissed afterward.
"Can I get you a beer?" she asked, after they had recovered a bit from their exertions. "Sucking a guy off always makes me thirsty. You can drink it while you look at my paintings."
John thought that a beer would be a fine idea and said so. He was thirsty, too, and the taste of her cunt was strong in his mouth. Not that it was objectionable, but he thought that the beer would taste better.
John was amazed at her paintings. At first glance he thought that they were conventional landscapes, well enough done but nothing out of the ordinary. Her technique was excellent by any standards but he saw no sign of originality. They appeared to be merely well done representational paintings of scenery, what are called in the trade "interior decorator" paintings because only those uninformed about art matters would ever consider purchasing them. He told her that the paintings were quite nice and turned away, unimpressed. Then he did a double take as what he had seen finally registered. Each of the scenes, each rock and tree and run of water, was actually a tiny detailed study of men and women fucking and sucking. The figures were almost microscopic and you had to examine the paintings closely to see them but they were there.
"You take your sex seriously," he told her.
"What else is there. I know. Food and shelter. But have those. There are a few people here and there who've heard of me and they buy everything I paint. At pretty good prices, too. I don't need or want fancy clothing and I have no interest in expensive possessions. I don't intend to ever marry and I don't want kids cluttering up my life. I do what I please and go where I want to. The biggest pleasure in my life, except for painting, is fucking. From my viewpoint, anyone who wastes his or her time doing anything else is a sucker and a fool. I'm going to fuck wherever and whenever I can until my cunt dries up and no man will have me. And then maybe I'll start paying them to fuck me. Why not?"
"It's an interesting philosophy," John agreed.
"And if I were a man I'd fuck every woman who came along until my prick dropped off. I wouldn't give a damn if they were ugly or beautiful, black, white, green or any other color. I'd fuck a Martian if there were any available. And if there were no women around maybe I'd stick it into a cow or a dog. Now why don't stop shooting the shit and get back to business. Is your prick ready to go again?"
All the talk of fucking had gotten John horny again and his cock was indeed beginning to swell. She brought it back to full vigor with her hands and then they were back on the bed. She insisted on riding him and John was quite willing to let her do most of the work, so he lay on his back while she mounted him. His cock entered her smoothly and in a moment she was rocking back and forth while he pumped his hips into her.
Orgasms came easily to his new friend, John noted. Pink flushed swept up the length of her body and her nipples jutted out like tiny cocks from the center of her tits. He had seen longer nipples, but not many. As they fucked, he rubbed them between his fingers and she smiled in contentment.
There was no urge for either of them to make a marathon fuck out of it. John sensed that she'd had enough when she began pumping harder to bring him off. He did not resist, but allowed the sensations to carry him over the top. He shot off in her cunt, not as powerfully as he had in her mouth, and then lay back with his hands on her thighs. She reached over to the table beside the bed, without getting up from his cock which was softening inside her, and took a cigarette, lighted it. After a few puffs she passed it to him. They stayed in that position for a while, saying nothing, sharing the cigarette. It was pleasant.
"You're good," she finally told him, "but I guess you know that. I'm good, too."
"You are," he agreed. "Have you ever stayed with one man for long?"
She eyed him narrowly, almost reading his mind. "I used to go in for things like that, but no longer. It's too easy to get hurt that way. You get to liking a man, thinking that it would be nice to settle down somewhere with a steady lover, and sure as hell one of you blows it. Then the other one feels put down. It's happened to me both ways, but no more. I'll never again let anyone, man or woman-don't look at me that way, I've taken on women, too-get close enough to me so that either of us get hurt.
"Take you, for example. You're a nice looking guy and reasonably smart. We make good music together in the sack. In fact, you're possibly the best fuck I've had in years. But we'd never make it together on the long haul. You won't agree, but you're not smart enough for me. I'm a genius and I know it. I think of things that you'd never understand and I have values that are beyond you. You're here in my bed and you think I'm a good fuck. You also look down on me because I'm an easy lay and there's something wrong with any woman who goes after a man like I did. It never occurs to you that you're just as easy a lay as I am? And there are other things. Anyhow, forget about moving in with me here. You can spend the night if you want to and we'll fuck again in the morning. I'll fix you breakfast. I'm a good cook, better than most. But please do not suggest that we would make a good team. If you do, I'll have to ask you to leave now."
John made no such suggestion. They drank a few more beers and listened to music. The woman had a reasonably good stereo system in her camper. She learned through conversation that he played chess and they tried a game. John had been on his college chess team but she beat him in no more than a dozen moves.
After the chess game they went to bed and this time she allowed him to fuck her in the position he preferred, with the man on top. She wrapped her legs around him and held him there while they fucked and he was surprised at the power in her leg muscles. Obviously she was in excellent condition. Finally, they both drifted off to sleep.
Morning was exactly as she had promised. John was awakened by the warm wet feel of her mouth on his cock, sucking it to hardness. This time she did not suck him off but as soon as he was hard climbed atop him and began fucking. Not a word passed between them until he shot his load. She led him then to the shower-the camper was a large one and excellently equipped-and they scrubbed each other.
John always got hot when showering with a woman and this time was no exception. It was obvious that his hostess also had the same addiction, because as soon as they were thoroughly soaped she grabbed him by the cock and began massaging it thoroughly. Soon he was again hard.
They fucked this time in the shower, standing up. John held her with both hands under her ass, lifting her to just the proper height. She braced one foot against the wall of the shower so that he could reach her cunt with little effort. It was awkward fucking that way and there was far less real pleasure than if they had been doing it in a bed, but there was something exceptionally friendly about doing it that way. After he came they really scrubbed each other, dried themselves with thick towels and went to breakfast. An hour later John stood by the side of the road, watching her camper disappear into the distance.
Women who wanted to fuck seemed to smell John out from incredible distances. He was standing on the side of the road, pointing his thumb south, when a car appeared far in the distance, slowing as soon as the driver saw him. There were three women in it and all appeared to be slightly the worse for drink. John was a bit hesitant about traveling with them but a ride was a ride and he could not afford to be fussy. He threw his one battered suitcase into the car and climbed in after it, joining the one woman who sat in the back seat.
"Thanks for the ride," he said. "How far are you going?"
"Frisco," the driver said. "What's your name?"
John told them his name and they identified themselves as Mabel, Joyce and Thelma, three school teachers off on their summer vacation.
"We're from Portland and heading south, and are we going to howl," said one. John hadn't been able to remember which name belonged to which woman.
They were all in their twenties and John noticed that none of them wore rings on the third fingers of their left hands. Three single women, off the leash and ready for anything. He smiled to himself, knowing that he had fallen into a lovely situation for a horny male. To start the ball rolling, he dropped his hand on the thigh of the woman beside him and asked if she was enjoying the trip. She turned to him and breathed whisky fumes into his face, but she did not remove his hand from her thigh.
"It's been a good trip so far," she said, "and I think it's about to get better." Then her hand was on his thigh and groping higher.
In a flash the woman beside him had zipped open John's pants and was pulling his cock out. She gaped at the size of it and yelled to the women in the front seats.
"Hey, gals, we got us a winner. Take a look at what I just found in his pocket."
In a moment two heads were peering over the back of the seat and staring at John's cock, which the woman beside him was waving in the air like a prize she had just won. The car veered back and forth across the road and John had to yell at the driver to get her attention back to the road. Meanwhile he was being jerked off as fast as the woman could work her hand. Well, if he died in an auto accident at least he would die happy. He stripped off the woman's panties with one hand as she assisted him.
John was straddled in a moment and even in the difficult confines of the car the woman managed to get most of the length of his cock into her cunt. There was no room to pump it into her so he leaned back in the seat and allowed the motion of the car to rub it up and down inside her cunt. The sensation was interesting, to say the least. He hadn't fucked in the back seat of a car since his days as a teenager, and even then the car had been parked.
The next thing John knew the woman sitting beside the driver was climbing over the back of the seat to join them. As she threw her leg over he could see that she wore nothing under her skirt. Her cunt hair was flaming red, which exactly matched the shade on her head. He didn't know what she hoped to accomplish in the narrow confines of the tiny imported car but whatever it was would be interesting. The spirit of the moment had caught him up and he would play any game they asked for.
The second woman grabbed one of John's hand and shoved it between her legs. There was barely room to get it there but he managed. She was wet with cunt juice and his finger slid into her hole easily. With the middle finger of his right hand deep into her cunt and his thumb on her clit he rubbed and probed her to orgasm. The woman he was fucking was also coming. Every moment or so the driver would turn her head around, forgetting the road and the traffic, and try to see what was going on.
A huge truck thundered alongside to pass and then slackened its speed. John looked up at the driver through the car window to see his amazed face staring back. From the high drivers' seat the truck driver could easily see everything that John was doing. He must have been impressed, because he drove alongside for several miles before accelerating away. As he drove off, he waved a hand at John and made a thumbs up gesture, indicating approval.
The woman John was finger fucking was tugging and working at his pants, trying to get the belt loose and pull them loose. At this point the two women with him managed to get him down on his back on the seat-he had let go of one woman's cunt and his cock had finally popped out of the other's-and the first of the two straddled him. From this position she could get his cock into her all the way and the fucking was much better. The second also straddled him, lowering her dripping cunt toward his face. There was nothing John could do but accept the situation and begin licking at it.
At this point they actually went off the road and onto the grass, because the driver now had a clearer view of what was going on and took her attention off the road too long. Fortunately, she braked the car to a stop just short of a large tree and about fifty feet from the edge of the road. Tree branches and high brush effectively hid the car from anyone passing.
The doors of the car flew open and John tumbled out. The jolting passage over the grassy ground had thrown both women off him. John didn't know whether to run or stay. These were the craziest female he had ever encountered and they might even be dangerous. But they were laughing as they climbed out of the car after him and stripping off their clothing. And if he ran he would have to do it without his suitcase or his pants. Both were in the car and the women were closing in. He lay back on the grass to let them do as they pleased.
Once out of the car they were far less violent in their assault. All they wanted was sex, but they wanted it all at once. Within minutes he had been mounted again-he was pretty sure that it was by the driver-and a cunt was again pressing against his lips. Someone was frantically trying to shove his entire hand up her cunt. And all three women were laughing hysterically. There was nothing for John to do but fuck and lick and probe as deep as possible with his hand. They were coming, he was coming. The grass was a tangle of bodies, fucking and eating each other. John could see that two of the women had left him and were going down on each other in the classic sixty-nine position. Two mouthes were locked to two cunts.
John decided that he would get into the act with the two women performing the lesbian act. He pushed the woman fucking him off and jumped to his feet, ran to where the sixty-nine was going on. Choosing the juicier of the two available asses, he rolled the owner over until she was on top of her partner. Then he spread the cheeks of her ass and pushed his cock home.
There was surprisingly little resistance. Most women, he had learned, had far tighter assholes than cunts and unless they had been fucked in the ass may times before it was often difficult to penetrate them. This asshole was no virgin, obviously, because it relaxed and opened for him at once. As he sank in he could see the woman he had deserted scurrying across the grass to join them. She had made a stop at the car and was waving a bottle of whisky in the air. This was turning into one hell of a party.
There on the grass beside the road John managed to stick his cock into just about every opening available. The afternoon was a tangle of bodies, fucking and sucking and licking. Cunts were thrust his way. Mouthes, sometimes two at a time licked and sucked and nibbled at his cock. Occasionally they rested and drank. When the whisky was gone one of the women staggered back to the car and returned with a gallon of wine, which she proceeded to pour over the tangle of bodies. They spent the next half hour licking it off each other. The women were totally free with their affections and when John was too fucked out to participate any longer they began going down on each other. It was as wild an orgy as John had ever participated in.
Finally, as dusk fell, they all collapsed in exhaustion. John had lost track of how many times he had come, but he knew that he had outdone himself. Under the stimulation of the situation his cock had risen to the situation almost on demand. The advice he had received from his artist friend of the day before had come to his rescue whenever his energies flagged. "Take what you can get whenever you can get it," she had told him, and he had followed that dictum. He would follow it for the rest of his life.
Later, when he and the women had recovered from the orgy, they all struggled into their clothing and returned to the car. John took the wheel and managed to get them back on the road. Following their directions, he drove for hours until they arrived at a motel where advance reservations had been made. John stayed out of sight in the car while the women went into the motel office and signed for the room.
They brought him food from the motel diner and genuine introductions were finally made. Their story was that their teaching profession required the most circumspect behavior while they were on the job and that the only time they could cut loose and enjoy themselves was during vacations. These they spent far from their hopes, doing all the things that were ordinarily forbidden them. John was the opening gun of their vacation, so to speak, their First recreation period.
After dining, they all crowded into the shower together to wash away the mud and grass they had picked up in the field, and the cum with which all were smeared. They soaped and lathered each other thoroughly. Six female hands cooperated to jerk John off. Three sweet female mouths took their turns blowing him. Three washed and sanitized cunts were offered for him to lick. It was hours before everyone had been satisfied and they could dry themselves and tumble all together into bed. The sex stopped then, as everyone was too tired to continue.
Late the following morning John came groggily awake. The room was empty. The luggage the women had brought in when they arrived was gone. All that remained in the room was John's battered suitcase and clothing-and a note resting on his chest. He sat up in bed and read it.
"Dear friend," it began. "Thanks for the lovely time. We want you to know that because of you our vacation is off to a wonderful start. Your cock is the nicest we've had since our first vacation together four years ago, when we first started teaching.
"The room is paid for and we've left a few dollars in your suitcase. Again, thanks."
John showered and dressed, then took his suitcase and left the room. He would eat further down the road. Meanwhile, the air was clear and the day was warm. The road was ahead of him and where it would lead he knew not. He did know that there would be women on it and that he would enjoy them. As for the rest, he would take life as it came. A car appeared in the distance and he raised his thumb to flag it down.
