Duping the uninformed has been a tactic used throughout history by the unscrupulous to achieve their goals. It occurs on every level, from worldwide propaganda to the door-to-door salesman.
A great many people are affected in one way or another by this devious tactic-witness the amount of advertisements bombarding us every day, many of which have been proven to be misleading.
This is the story of Melissa Edwards, an innocent young wife whose only crime is her inability to recognize when she is being taken advantage of by unethical people.
Eager to enrich her humdrum, day-to-day existence, she takes a job as a model for a college art class. She then falls victim to one of the students, whose shameful racket is made obvious to Melissa after she is mired in its degrading depths.
But her life must go on; she must continue with the normal activities of a housewife despite her guilt and the threat of blackmail hanging over her head.
The thought-provoking novel about a woman caught in a struggle between good and bad. A situation we all must face at some time in our lives. A situation we cannot take lightly.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
If her husband dennis could see her, now, he'd kill her. Melissa Edwards didn't like to think about that particular aspect of her current situation. She sat immobile on the high wooden stool, the fluorescent lighting overhead casting a soft, luminous sheen over her naked flesh. Her high firm tits glowed. The chilliness of the air-conditioned room caused her to shiver. Her nipples drew into puckered pink rosebuds and her blonde-circled cuntlips tightened. This was the first time since her marriage that she had been naked before anyone but her husband.
The tinge of guilt she felt was offset by an intoxicating sense of escapade. From her position in the center of the room, Melissa was acutely aware of the many sets of eyes appraising her unclothed body. There was one man who had captured her attention above the others. He was watching her with a brazen intensity, not bothering to do any sketching. His neatly trimmed Vandyke beard gave him a devilish mien; dark-haired and swarthy, arms folded against his chest, he was stretched back casually in his chair, scrutinizing her as if she were a particularly interesting piece of sculpture.
Despite his cool stare, Melissa wondered what thoughts might actually be occupying his mind. She knew that no man could see her nude and remain unaffected. At twenty-one, her well-proportioned figure still bore the charms of a young schoolgirl. She was a slender woman, delicately framed, her skin a healthy ivory glow. Her moon-face, with saucy, pixie features and peachy pout of a mouth imparted a simultaneous innocence and seductive wantonness, replete with honey-blonde hair spiraling in soft, flirty curls bordering the pert symmetry of her face.
She had the perfect figure for a model-firm, full conical breasts; ripe, white thighs and long showgirl legs with rounded hips swerving in a natural hourglass convexity from her twenty-four-inch waist.
She let her pink tongue circle her lips, daring him to show some sign of arousal. His eyes seemed to grow larger.
You little sex tease,
she could almost hear him thinking, you know what I'd like to do to you, don't you?
Melissa drew in her breath, causing her tits to surge forward. She was well aware of the erotic implications of her pose-her back arched so that her big tits thrust out temptingly at her audience, her legs just slightly open to bare the fluffy pubic hair between her delectable thighs. From the way the male students in the class were ogling her, she knew that it wasn't often the university art department furnished such a delectable model.
Melissa let her eyelids droop closed. She had a distinct picture of the bearded stranger in her mind now, which was all she needed to conjure a fantasy...
She saw the man rise up from his chair. Her eyes locked on his, then moved irresistibly down his strong, trim torso and fell to his loins. She saw a bulge there that left no doubt as to his feelings about her.
He swaggered down the aisle like a wild, untamed beast, coming closer to her. As he neared, the art class grew hazy, then disappeared, leaving the two of them alone in the room. Her heart sped, her fingers tightening around the wooden seat of the high stool. She threw back her sleek neck defiantly, her sensuous lips drawn tight and challenging.
"Get down from that stool and let's see if you can put that terrific body to better use," he commanded.
A smile curled around Melissa's lips. Arrogantly, she slid her curvaceous legs to the floor, giving him an unobstructed shot of her glistening pink cunt in the process. She stood, hands on jutting hips, facing him. "You think you're man enough to tell me what to do?"
He snickered. "Baby, when I'm done with you, you'll be eating out of my hand."
He moved in on her fast, whipping his hand out and grabbing her by her blonde locks before she had a chance to dart away from him.
"Kneel down," he directed her, yanking her hair to force obedience.
With little choice, she sank to her knees before him. Her face was level with his crotch and she felt a perverse satisfaction in discovering that his cock was indeed erect, as rigid as a totem pole straining against his trousers.
He caught her stare and said, "Like what you see?"
He'd released her hair but she felt no desire to move from her subordinate position. She peered up at him, her insolence melting to humble submission. "Maybe," she purred. "If I could see it a little better, I might like it more."
She was mesmerized as he unbuckled his belt, then swiftly jerked down the zipper of his fly. "If you want it, fish for it," he told her crudely.
Melissa was already shaking with anticipation. She knew what she wanted to do was wrong, was disgusting, dirty, and she knew no decent woman would stand for the way she was being treated. But instead of resenting the man's dominating, vulgar attitude, she felt overpowered by it. He had found her weakness-he knew what she really craved-and she was as helpless as the hypnotized victim of a stage magician.
Her hands were itching to touch him and with eager fingers she followed his suggestion. His prick burst forth, pulsing within her hand. She fingered the lean, male hardness of the rod, then squeezed her hand around it tightly, possessively. Aimed toward her face, the hole in the head seemed a lewd mouth beckoning to her.
Instinctively, she bowed her head to the majestic cock, her tongue flitting over the sensitive cockhead.
"I didn't say you could lick it," he reprimanded her.
Her neck snapped back, her eyes dewy with humiliation. "May I?"
"May you what?"
She squinted up at him, knowing that he wanted to hear her say the tantalizing words. "I want to suck your cock," she said. "I want to lick it and suck it until you come in my mouth."
Still holding his cock in her hand, she felt a tremor of excitement run through his body.
"Then do it, you little slut." He grinned down at her.
Meekly, she pressed her lips once again to the pudgy cockhead. She began to kiss the powerful tool, her mouth working down like a moist sponge to the very root of the cock, nuzzling her lips into his coarse, masculine-scented pubes, fluttering her tongue against the wobbly sac of his testicles, then back up again.
The smoothness of the tensely stretched skin delighted her tongue and soon she was trembling from head to toe with barely controlled desire. She slid her lips down over the head of his cock, an inch at a time, feeling the rod throb and engorge further. She wrapped her arms around his hairy buttocks, pulling his loins into closer contact with her quivering body, the tips of her tits brushing like electric buttons against his rugged thighs.
He was breathing hard now, and his hands clamped over her shoulders to guide her and steady himself. Melissa gloated over the fact she was getting to him; she'd transformed the invincible hulk of him to a shaking, vulnerable creature at just the touch of her lips.
She could feel the dewy heat rising between her own legs, realizing the conquest was mutual. But that was fine with her. Melissa had always been madly attracted to men; a virile body crushed against her own, a passionate kiss, even so little as a sideways glance from a handsome stranger could send her reeling with lust. It was her shameful secret, the side of her Dennis knew nothing about.
"Suck it harder!" the man in her fantasy cried out.
Melissa turned her full attention to the wonderful hard cock she was nursing to orgasmic response. As her lips drew nearer the very tip, she tasted the pollen-flavored ooze of a droplet of fluid and knew her labors were reaping reward. She sucked more avidly on the purplish staff, her fingers fiercely urging his straining buttocks as he pumped his cock into her mouth...
Melissa had never in her three years of marriage sucked Dennis' cock. She had never dared to let him know she was even capable of such a thing. In fact, all the oral lovemaking experience she'd ever had was a figment of her ripe imagination-all, that is, except for the first time she'd ever done it.
As quickly as her mind had produced the scene with the bearded man, the image faded and Melissa blinked around the room. She squirmed uncomfortably on the stool, wondering if the embarrassment she felt showed on her face. She didn't dare let herself look in the direction of the man who'd triggered her lurid fantasy. Had he suspected what she'd been daydreaming? Had anyone else in the class known?
It was a problem she'd had since she was a young teenager, though Melissa had never told a soul about it. She was sure no other girl had ever entertained sexual thoughts as graphic as hers. If people knew, it would be terrible. If her husband knew, he'd probably divorce her. Dennis thought his wife was a compatible, somewhat sexually inhibited, typical American female. And Melissa had, up until now, done her best to reaffirm that belief. In fact, at this moment, Dennis was under the impression that she was a secretary for the university history department-not a nude model for the art classes.
She realized, with dismay, that her reveries had physically manifested themselves; the dampness between her legs was unmistakably real. A long-haired, studious-looking young guy sitting several feet away from her had stopped drawing her and was eyeing her disconcertingly. Melissa was taken by the horrifying thought that her state of arousal elicited distinct odors. Could the people in the front of the room smell the incriminating evidence? She quickly pushed the idea from her mind; she couldn't be giving off that noticeable a scent.
She momentarily wondered why she had visualized the bearded man in such a peculiar way. She often had sex fantasies, but usually she merely mentally enacted fucking a certain person. It slowly dawned on her that the bearded man had reminded her of someone in particular-he had the same domineering, impervious demeanor as her cousin, Gerald.
She remembered Gerald best from the first time she'd actually met him at a family gathering when she was fourteen years old. Gerald was twenty-seven at the time. It had been a beach party with lots of people, relatives converging from miles around to celebrate her grandparents' golden wedding anniversary. She'd been attracted to Gerald from the moment she'd seen him, and their interest had been mutual. She couldn't recall quite how it had been managed, but somehow Gerald had separated her from the rest of the group under the pretense of going to town for more beer. She'd readily agreed to keep him company on the seemingly innocent trip.
On the way back from the store, with a single six-pack in the back seat, Gerald took a side road that wound up to a deserted section of coastline. There were a few other cars parked along the stretch of sand and in a few minutes Melissa realized they were at the local lovers' lane. She could see that the couples in the other cars were teenagers, some of them not too discreetly engaged in ardent petting sessions.
"If we weren't cousins, we might do something besides stare at the ocean," Gerald roguishly hinted.
Melissa giggled. It was getting dark and she'd indulged in enough spiked punch during the afternoon to free herself of her usual inhibitions. "It's not like we're really cousins, though," she told him. "This is the first time we've seen each other in twelve years."
"And very likely we won't see each other again for that long," he added.
Normally, Melissa was shy and modest around boys, but Gerald was so much older and so handsome that she felt giddy and adventurous with him. "We should make the most of it, then, shouldn't we?" she answered playfully.
In reply, he slipped away from the steering wheel and put his arms around her waist, clutching her buttocks and pulling her toward him. She could feel her warm round belly pressed sensuously against his lean body, and her female nature wanted to pull him closer, closer into her.
She darted her wet tongue mischievously at his mouth, thrilling in the shock of passion she felt in him as they kissed. Then his hand cupped loosely around her left tit and she wondered if she should discourage him from touching her that way. Making out was one thing; she was used to drive-in movies with boys her own age, and kissing was exciting and fun, but with the guys she knew, it never went further than that.
She felt his other hand creep up to unfasten the buttons of her blouse behind her back, then tug at the thick elastic band of her brassiere. He gave a deft twist and the garment came loose. She became aware of a strange trembling in her chest, but could not tell if it was panic or excitement or both. It was actually such a silly, trivial thing-she had some girl friends who let boys fondle their breasts-but Melissa harbored fears that Gerald might expect something more from her than that. Still, she was flattered by his attentions and desire for her. She knew he must have had many women in his time, and she didn't want him to think she was a bashful little prude.
Gerald didn't bother to remove the blouse or bra, but slipped one hand up the front of her bare stomach and eased his hand beneath the small cup of her bra. She shivered as he kneaded his fingers into one of her taut-skinned adolescent tits. His hand was coarse and leathery, a frantic rodent trying to devour her shimmery-sensitive flesh.
He pinched hard at her nipple and her breath caught in her throat. She had not known that pain could be so pleasurable-but the sheer erotic power frightened her.
She halfheartedly tried to dissuade him, pushing his hand down lower, but he took it as a hint to explore the nether regions of her svelte young anatomy, and his fingers clawed down to send tantalizing jolts of pleasure through her loins.
He ground his fingers like so many pestles against the crotch of her denim jeans. Her schoolgirl inhibitions flung to the wind, she spread her legs wide. The large joints of his knuckles kneaded against her confined clit causing her to gasp and shudder. She could feel her warm sticky moisture seeping into her pubes, dampening her panties. She had never known such excitement.
From the recesses of her mind a fear, a confusion, crept into her consciousness, but all she could do was close her legs more, which had the effect of entrapping her cousin's hand in the warm pleasure-vise of her crotch. It didn't seem right to her that it should feel so good.... unless it was good. Her mother had never said anything about how enjoyable it felt when she'd clinically informed Melissa of the facts of life. She'd only said, "Don't do it."
"I'll bet you're getting good and juicy, aren't you?" Gerald asked her.
She laughed senselessly but his hand was lodged tight between her warm young thighs and the next thing she knew she was purring with desire, wiggling her body against his, begging him not to stop.
Without unbuckling her belt or even unfastening the snap at her waist, Gerald forced the zipper of her jeans down and wormed a finger into the opening. He worked it up and down the plushy wet cotton of her panties until the low-pitched moans of her first sex-frenzy seemed to fill the islanded compartment of the car.
Her moist pink mouth glistened deliciously in the misty light of the sunset and her small hands cupped the back of his head, inviting a long and passionate kiss.
He played with her quivering nubile tits and used his other hand to arouse her virgin cunt in a way no boy her age had the experience or courage to do, and before long, Melissa was literally panting with need for him, her tight slit on fire.
When he took her hand and guided it to his pants so she could feel the stiff ridge of his cock, she was curious as much as she was erotically enthused. She'd never seen a man's sex organ before and when he coaxed her to unzip his fly, she did so with eager fingers.
She gave a little gasp as the tumid plum-colored shaft came into view.
"May I touch it?" she asked him in a timid voice.
"Be my guest!" he laughed.
She curled her hand around the amazing flesh rod, her eyes fastening to the cock in frightened awe. "It's bigger than I thought it would be!" she exclaimed.
"All the better to screw you with," he said.
Her eyes widened in dismay. "Oh, no! You can't fuck me! I'm a virgin!"
An ugly look crossed his face. "What do you mean? You're not one of those cockteaser types, are you?"
"No!" She glanced from his hot prick to his eyes and shook her head. "I just... I mean, isn't there..." She knew he wanted sexual release, but she didn't know how to phrase it. Some of her older girl friends had told her about giving "hand jobs" in order to save their cherries, but somehow the term sounded vulgar and improper.
He studied her a moment, then, as though understanding she was sincere, he said, "Have you ever gone down on a guy?"
"Pardon?"
"Gone down on a guy? Sucked on a guy's cock?"
Melissa was startled. "You mean.... with my mouth?" She peered down at his huge cock, now throbbing in her hand.
"You'll like it," he assured her, gently pushing on the back of her neck until her head was inches from his pulsating dick.
Melissa eyed the pudgy tip of his cock skeptically. It didn't seem like a nice thing to do, but she didn't want to anger him. She flicked her tongue experimentally across the straining flesh and the rod jerked anxiously.
"Take it into your mouth, baby," Gerald groaned.
Warily, Melissa did just that. The thick cock stretched her lips to a wide O as she allowed it to slide far into her mouth.
He pumped the tool into the wet cavern as she fluttered her tongue around the strange invading organ. She was sure none of her girl friends had ever done anything like this before, and the thought made her feel wicked and even more excited. Her nostrils dilated as the rich male odor of his scrotum wafted to her nose.
She felt that she should stop; she should refuse to satisfy Gerald in this abnormal and terrible way, but the feel of his cock in her mouth was exciting and she was indeed overcome by a compulsion to suck on the slick rod. Her head began to bob rhythmically as she became more adept at this new style of lovemaking.
Gerald's voice was hoarse and short-winded as he said, "That's the way. Suck it hard!"
The velvet walls of her mouth contracted around his pistoning prick as she did as he commanded. His cock was a stiff poker in the furnace of her mouth, stirring up fires that consumed her with passion. She wanted him like she had never wanted a man before.
"I'm going to shoot," he moaned.
Melissa didn't pull her head back to acknowledge his warning. The animal craving awakened in her demanded that she taste his fluid; that she drink it deep into her carnal throat. She increased the tempo of her sucking as she felt him tensing up. Her fingers curled down to lightly stroke his balls, to caress them until they could no longer hold back their frothy load of semen.
His cock spasmed; a viscid charge of musky cream erupted from the tormented hose and Melissa swallowed it down quickly, sucking for more. He jetted another and yet another thick spurt of sperm into her voracious mouth.
Melissa sighed, abruptly realizing that she had made a sucking noise with her mouth. She glanced around the art class wildly, hoping no one had noticed.
The art professor, Louis Frazier, seemed to sense Melissa's sudden self-consciousness. "Let's clean up this room now," he said, breaking the silence. "Save your sketches for your portfolios." He gave a paternal nod to Melissa. "You may get dressed now, Mrs. Edwards."
With a smile of gratitude, Melissa arose from her stool, quickly robing herself with the sheet and disappearing into the adjoining dressing room to retrieve her clothing.
When she came back into the art room, clad in a flowered blouse-little concealing the bait of the alluring globes beneath-and tight slacks, most of the students had already left. The professor and the bearded man who had occupied her lascivious thoughts were talking together. She tried to make a hasty, inconspicuous retreat from the room, but before she'd reached the door, the professor spotted her and called her name.
Melissa turned, regarding the two men hesitantly.
"Mrs. Edwards, I'd like you to meet a good friend of mine," Louis Frazier said.
She had little choice but to confront the men. Ill-at-ease, she approached them.
"This is John Andon," Frazier announced amiably, gesturing to the man beside him. "John, meet Melissa Edwards."
"How do you do," Melissa replied perfunctorily, nervously offering her manicured hand to Andon.
He clasped her outstretched fingers warmly. "I do pretty well," he grinned. His voice was low-pitched and pleasant. "You're quite a beautiful woman, Mrs. Edwards." He took in her body as he spoke.
Melissa found herself beginning to blush. If he knew what I'd been thinking about him... Aloud, she murmured, "Thank you."
"John is a professional photographer," Frazier put in. "He's looking for some women to pose for him-he complains that I get all the best models!" The professor snorted a laugh.
"Photography must be interesting," Melissa commented. At close range, Andon appeared much less formidable than he'd originally seemed. Melissa wondered if he might even be married, though she noted that he wore no wedding band.
"Oh, it's interesting all right," Andon agreed. "If you'd like to come over to my studio, I can show you some of my latest projects. I've just finished doing a series of shots of Holland for a travel magazine. Some of the photos are exquisite."
"I'd like to see them someday," she answered politely, lowering her eyes from his penetrating stare.
"Why not now?" he offered. "I'd like to talk to you about modeling for me. I pay quite a bit more than the university."
The proposition took Melissa by surprise. "Oh, I'm not really a professional model," she demurred. "This is just part-time-"
Andon cut her short with a wave of his hand. "Now, don't make up your mind so quickly, Mrs. Edwards," he said. "I'm not even offering full-time work. I just wanted to discuss the possibility of taking a few trial shots of you... to see if you're photogenic." He paused, then lowered his voice confidentially. "Some of my girls are making up to fifty dollars an hour, Mrs. Edwards. The only qualification for a professional model is beauty, and I think you've got plenty of credit in that department."
Melissa's mouth dropped open slightly at the mention of the income potential. She was flattered by the photographer's interest in her, but some vague discomfort made her hesitant. For an instant her mind recaptured the earlier scene of Andon staring at her on the stool, and the fantasy he'd unwittingly played lead role in, and the muscles of her cunt tightened against her volition. She felt an urgent throbbing in her clitoris, a lust to be fucked or sucked.... She forced herself to ignore the unwanted bodily impulse. Andon had obviously been watching her from a purely objective standpoint-the rest, she rationalized, had been in her imagination.
"Well, I don't know," she drawled. "I suppose I could stop by for just a little while." Dennis wouldn't be home from work for another hour, anyway. What harm would it do?
"Fine," Andon nodded with satisfaction. "Let's go. See you later, Lou," he called over his shoulder to the art professor.
CHAPTER TWO
LORNA ANDON FROWNED DOWN AT HER lush naked body, sucking in her breath to make her rounded belly slimmer. She was a full-bodied young woman, fleshy but firm, with large meaty hips and breasts.
Randy Gore was watching her from the bed where he lay nude a few feet away, his stout prick in a semihard state against his dark-haired paunch. Lorna approached him, flopping down onto the double mattress wantonly. She seemed to angle her succulent tits at him, the conical globes begging for a squeeze.
"John says I'm getting too fat," she said petulantly. "He thinks I'm starting to bulge." Gore reached for one of her inviting nipples, pinching the sprouted dark-pink tip between his thumb and forefinger. It was obvious from the sparkle in his eyes that he thought her bulges were in the right places. "So your brother's got no taste," he said. "I've always thought he was a faggot anyway." He tweaked hard at the rust-hued aureole of Lorna's breast, causing her to twist away from his reach.
"He's a faggot that pays my rent," she said. "Which is more than I can say for some people! And don't handle the merchandise so rough. I'm fragile, you know."
Gore snickered, laying a hand gently on her hips and indulgently creeping his fingers down to her inner thigh. "Fragile like hell," he scoffed. "Baby, I know what you want and how you want it-and I can give you the one thing your brother can't." He took her hand and placed it on his rousing cock.
Her cool fingers automatically clenched around the stalk. "Don't be so sure," she said pursing her lips at him.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he shot back.
"John and me have been balling since we were babies.... just about," she said. Her teeth glinted as she grinned.
Gore regarded her skeptically, unsure what attitude her unabashed confession warranted. Then, feeling her sleek fingers still wrapped around his prick, he decided lectures on morality were not in order.
"Say, uh... where's John now, by the way?" He cast a nervous glance toward the bedroom door. "He's not the jealous type, is he?"
Her rippling laughter made her jellied breasts quiver. "Him, jealous of me? That's a good one. Chances are, right now he's out hunting up some juicy little cunt to get his own ass laid." So saying, she stroked the cockshaft in her hand to remind Gore of her voluptuous proximity. But her face darkened and she absently dropped his cock, another thought coming to mind. "As a matter of fact, he's supposed to be finding a new model. He said he was going to talk to some guy at the college about hiring one of the coeds."
"Coeds?" Gore did a double-take. "What's he do, go up to some chick on the campus and ask her if she'd like to have her bod immortalized in a skin magazine?"
Lorna frowned at him. "Very funny."
"I'm serious," Gore said, taking a soft swipe at her dangling tits. He watched, mesmerized by the way the fleshy mounds jiggled. "The coeds around here are A-l snobs. They don't change into their birthday suits at the drop of a hat, I'll tell you that."
"John's a slick operator," Lorna said. "Rub my tits. They're aching to be rubbed."
He eagerly obliged her, kneading his fingers into the creamy white globes. "Does your brother get into these coeds' pants?"
Lorna clucked her tongue. "Why are you so interested, lover boy?" She jacked her hand up and down his cock lightly. "John's a hustler from way back. Would you believe he used to be a pimp for me?"
Gore could well believe it, but not wanting to offend her, he shook his head.
"Well, that business was more trouble than it was worth," Lorna went on. "So he got a hold of a camera and decided it was safer to take pictures of it than to sell it outright."
"That still doesn't answer my question," Gore said.
She pressed her body against his like a sleek cat. "Okay, the answer is yes. My rat of a brother likes to help cure the world of virginity. But he does it on false pretenses, so to speak. These dumb cunts he meets think he's a high fashion photographer, and they think if they put out for him, he'll get them on the cover of Vogue magazine."
"Seems like it would be a hell of a lot simpler to hire regular models," Gore reflected.
"Not with the money we can afford to pay 'em," Lorna cooed. "Foxy models cost a mint, you know that well enough."
Gore was growing bored with all the talk of Lorna's brother. "Don't worry about it, baby. I'll give you something better to think about." He slithered his hands around her back, squashing her luscious flesh to his own.
She squealed in surprised delight, willingly curling into his embrace. Hungrily, she clutched him, aggressively pulling his mouth to hers, nibbling his lips, dueling her tongue to his in a battle of playful lust.
Lorna had freed her hand from Gore's lively cock, and now he ground the engorged organ into the yielding plushness of her belly, her wiry pubes feathering against his scrotum. She squirmed against him like a sow in heat, mashing her soft billowing breasts into the flexing muscles of his chest, arms possessing him, fingers spreading like rooting tentacles across his shoulder blades.
Having met in a bar several weeks earlier, Gore knew little about Lorna and cared even less. She loved sex like a fish loved water, and that was all he needed to know about her. He peeled down her brimming body, rutting his face into the valley between her bouncing breasts. She fed him her nipples, straining against him, sighing sharp-breathed noises as he gently nipped the pink crests with his teeth. Her tits were like swollen water balloons, the bloated nipples squishy and sweet between his probing lips.
She wiggled and arched herself toward him, oooing and aaaahing while she ingeniously, purposefully squirmed her body upward, distracting him from her breasts to a more sumptuous feast below.
Gore nuzzled his nose into her darkly haired lower belly and her legs parted to encourage him. Her pubic hairs tickled his nostrils as he dredged his nose into the sultry chasm between her thighs, inhaling the lusty aroma of aroused cunt.
"Oh, God! Stick your tongue in there!" she panted, gyrating her pelvis urgently upward to tilt the salmon-tinted hole to his face. "Eat my pussy, Randy!"
Dog-panting, he stuck out his tongue to the salty-slick folds of her labia. Her legs jerked, spreading even further apart to accommodate him. She twisted her fingers into his hair, smothering his face into the tantalizing pulp of her cunt.
He attacked the offered treat with lips and tongue, munching the fatty humps of her mound, sniffing and lapping at the center crack until she was writhing with tormented pleasure. He rolled his tongue over her protruding clit, vibrating the sex-node until she was gasping. Then he plunged a finger into the quaking, lust-dripping, flushed meat of her vagina.
She shrieked, pulling his hair to tug him upward. "Stop! I can't stand it!" she cried. "You've got to fuck me. I need your cock in me so bad I can't wait any more!"
Gore lost no time debating the matter, as his own loins were aching and his cock was ready to sink into the depths of her dripping cunt. He climbed up her sweat-drenched body, easily mounting her as she flailed her legs wide. Her cuntlips seemed to pouch up to suck in his cock, and with a swift stab he was embedded in her warm, clutching pussy.
She growled like a she-leopard, tenaciously girdling him with her legs, her strong thigh muscles clamping to his angular hips, helping him to drive it into her faster, deeper. He plowed in, his balls making wet slapping sounds against her upraised asscheeks as he increased his speed.
She felt the sinewy muscles of his buttocks and back tighten, his head cocking up with a breathy grunt. His groin seemed to vibrate, causing exquisite sensations to flare through her clitoris. Unexpectedly, thick, hot cum erupted into her gulping cunt with a spastic jerking of Gore's hips, his prick ramming into her with each spurt.
His weight slackened onto her. Lorna ground her pelvis frantically against his inert bulk to no avail.
Frustrated, she pushed him to get him off her. He took a few deep breaths, then rolled over beside her on the bed, his cock flaccid and wet with the combination of their juices.
"What did you come so fast for?" she breathed angrily. "I barely got started."
Gore met her accusative stare with a meek shrug. "When it's time, it's time," he said.
"Then eat me again," she pleaded. "I'm really hot, Randy."
He leaned up onto one elbow, turning his gaze to her gaping raw cunt. "I'm not gonna eat my own jism, for crissake!"
Rolling onto her side to face him, she took his soft cock into her hand, rolling and massaging it gently. "How long will it take to get it hard again?" she purred.
He curled his upper lip. "Longer than this," he answered. "I'm not sixteen years old, you know. I like a little rest period."
She let his limp cock slide from her hand. "How long?" she persisted.
He sat up, annoyed. If there was one thing he couldn't take, it was having his sexual prowess brought to question. "I'll come by tomorrow," he said sullenly. "I'm a once-a-day man."
"Damn it, Randy, that's not fair! At least do me with your hand!"
"You can do that yourself," he said. "Haven't you got any shame, woman? Jesus..." He reached for a pack of cigarettes beside the bed.
There was a moment of constricted silence as Gore struck a match to the butt in his mouth. He glanced at Lorna from the corner of his eye. Her bountiful chest was heaving in suppressed rage. He realized if he didn't say something to assuage her, he might never get an invitation to visit the voracious honeypot locked between those lovely long legs again. He swallowed his pride. "Is there.... any way besides fucking or sucking that I could help you out? I'll use my hand if you..."
"Open the dresser drawer," Lorna softly cut him off.
He leaned over and pulled the drawer open curiously. "What do you want from here?" he said, but when his eyes lit on the contents of the drawer, his question answered itself. The drawer housed a long plastic dildo-shaped vibrator.
He removed the pleasure tool and wielded it over her belly with a grin. "Sure, Lorna, I never like to leave my ladies in distress." With his thumb, he flicked the switch at the base of the phallus and the machine hummed in his hand.
Lorna's eyes slitted in sultry anticipation and she plumped back against the pillow, splaying the sperm-glistening lips of her cunt open wide with her index fingers. "Do it around my clit," she directed him.
Gore touched the tip of the vibrator to her pulsing cuntlips.
"Up higher," she said. She had her eyes closed and was beginning to breathe rapidly.
He followed her instructions, resting the head of the vibrator on her upper vulva in the area of her clitoris. Lorna undulated her hips, slowly at first, then increasingly wildly, grinding her little nub up against the buzzing tool.
"Don't you want me to stick it in?" Gore asked, watching the entire spectacle with a detached interest.
"Not.... not until I... start to come..." she gasped.
He held the instrument steadily in place, watching the membranes of her cunt quiver and twitch like a Venus flytrap stretching its petals to engulf a choice bug. The rest of her was thrashing like a frenzied beast as she rose higher and higher toward her peak.
"Oh, God!" she screeched. "Now! Shove it inside my cunt! Shove it in me!"
He stuffed the humming dildo into her vagina. The sucking chasm nearly swallowed the entire instrument. Lorna let out a long broken wail of orgasm, all the muscles in her body gripped to tenseness. She seemed to be having orgasms piled on top of orgasms, until finally satiated, she reached down to turn off the uncontrollably stimulating vibrator.
Gore backed away from her oozing pussy, leaving the now inert vibrator lodged inside her. Lorna yanked the phallus out of her cunt, heaving a satisfied sigh.
"You know, baby," he said, "the world would be in a lot better shape of there were more chicks who liked it the way you do."
She bared her teeth at him in a pleased grin. "Some people would think I was just a whore," she informed him.
He shook his head. "If you're a whore, I wish every chick was. Take it from me, babe, you got everything it takes and then some."
She gave him a playful push toward the edge of the bed. "Hurry up and get dressed, Randy. The next thing I know, you'll be proposing marriage."
He slung his legs over the bedside and reached to a nearby chair for his clothes. "You're good," he told her, "but I can't stick to any one woman."
"Just as long as you keep coming to see me, I don't give a damn if you've got a whole harem," she laughed. "And thanks for helping me out with the vibrator. John won't touch the thing. For a lecherous son-of-a-bitch, he's got a lot of hang-ups."
"Yeah, well, give him my regards," Gore replied, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. "And when you get horny again, just give me a call."
"Sure thing." Lorna sprawled languidly in the bed, watching his angular form disappear out the door. Gore wasn't the greatest stud in the world, but every guy had his talents, and Lorna made the best of them all.
She sat up and looked at the clock. Where the hell was John? She remembered there was work to do, and languishing on her backside wasn't going to keep a roof over her head. She quickly dressed.
* * *
Melissa thought John Andon's place looked old and somewhat shabby-not at all what she'd expected a photographer's studio to be. They had barely stepped onto the porch when the front door was swung open by an attractive brunette.
"Mrs. Edwards, this is my sister, Lorna," Andon said affably. "Lorna is one of my models."
Lorna was attired in clinging blue bell-bottom slacks and a skimpy velvet halter that exhibited her ample curves to the fullest.
Melissa nodded hello to her.
Lorna gave a lopsided smile that could have been a sneer, but made no response.
Andon brushed past his sister, into the house. "Come in, Mrs. Edwards," he beckoned Melissa.
Following him into the house, Melissa saw that the interior was sparsely furnished with abstract paintings everywhere, and cheap, mod-designed plastic chairs. The general atmosphere was redolent of a waiting room in a doctor's office.
"Lorna will fix us some drinks while I show you around the studio," Andon announced.
"Oh, don't go to any trouble," Melissa replied. "I have to leave soon, anyway."
"Nonsense," said Lorna, shutting the door. She turned to Melissa, her sour expression supplanted by a cheerful smile. "I'll get some sherry."
Melissa shrugged and allowed Andon to lead her up a flight of stairs to a large room on the second floor. It was devoid of furniture except for a double bed standing in the center of the room. Behind the headboard was a large black screen. An array of lamps and lighting fixtures was arranged around the perimeter of the bed.
Melissa squinted warily at Andon but he paid no heed to her suspicious look. Walking to a block of file cabinets against one of the side walls, he began shuffling through the contents of one of the drawers. "Here they are," he exclaimed, pulling out a large manilla envelope. He tilted his head to smile across the room at Melissa. "Have you ever been to Europe?"
"No, I haven't."
"You'd enjoy it," he said, going to the bed and plopping down on it with the envelope in hand. "I've got shots here from all over the continent. I was really pleased with some of the unique light effects I got with..." He stopped talking and looking up at Melissa, who was still cautiously poised in the entrance to the studio. "Hey, you can't see anything from over there," he called to her. "Come over and sit down."
Melissa was dubious but forced herself to walk over to the bed. She sat down beside him gingerly, keeping a wide distance between them. He handed her the pictures and she leafed through them, keenly aware of his eyes upon her. She did not look up at him but she felt he was appraising her the same way he had done in the art class, which was making her blush.
After several minutes, Lorna joined them, sashaying in with a tall bottle of Scotch. "Sorry, we're out of wine," she announced.
Melissa took a glass of the whiskey to be sociable; she didn't ordinarily like to drink in the daytime.
Lorna threw herself down on the bed between Andon and Melissa; she sprawled out on her stomach, her chin propped on her elbows, and leaned over to scan the photographs in Melissa's lap. "Aren't those boring?" she remarked.
Melissa blinked at her in surprise. "Oh, no," she protested. "They're very interesting." She couldn't help but notice that Lorna's pendulous white breasts were almost spilling out of her scanty halter.
Lorna grimaced. "The country is fascinating enough but who wants to sit around looking at pictures of it?" She measured Melissa critically. "How long have you been modeling?"
"Oh, this is my first day," Melissa confessed. "Have you been modeling long?"
Lorna snickered and shot her brother a sly, sidelong glance. "Yeah, I've been at it quite a while."
"Melissa is modeling with the university-Lou Frazier's art class. I met her there today," Andon explained to his sister.
"You ought to get out of that," Lorna advised Melissa. "They don't pay anything."
Melissa didn't consider five dollars an hour such bad pay, but she remained silent.
"So you've never modeled before a camera?" Lorna mused.
Melissa shook her curly blonde head. "Not unless you count family albums."
"I don't." Lorna squirmed into a sitting position and grinned at Andon.
Melissa took a stiff gulp of her drink. The acrid tang of the liquor felt warm and soothing in her throat. Andon had risen from the bed and was shuffling through a large briefcase on the floor beside the tripod.
He produced a printed form and a pen. "Here, why don't you sign this release before we get started," he said to Melissa. "That way if the pictures are good I'll be able to shop them around. There's no other way to find out if you've got commercial potential."
Melissa scanned the form superficially before scrawling her signature on the bottom line. She momentarily hesitated to sign, but the form seemed innocuous enough and she dismissed it as a professional formality.
After he'd tucked the paper back into his briefcase, Andon had Melissa stand against the backdrop of the screen while he took a few pictures.
"That outfit doesn't do you justice," he said. "Lorna, why don't you get Melissa a bathing suit?"
"Right," Lorna remarked curtly. She hopped up from the bed and peered sharply at Melissa.
"Is something wrong?" Melissa questioned.
"Nothing at all," Lorna assured her. "You've got a pretty good shape. What are your measurements? You look built."
"37-24-36," Melissa told her. "Does that disqualify me?"
"Disqualify you?" Lorna let out a whooping laugh. "Hell, no!"
"I always thought models had to be.... you know, kind of skinny," Melissa said.
"Only for ladies' mags," Lorna informed her dryly. She quickly added, "But you're perfect, honey, so don't worry about a thing."
She disappeared from the studio, returning a minute later with the smallest bikini Melissa had ever seen.
"Size 12, right?" Lorna asked her.
"Uh, yes.... "Melissa stared at the two pieces of green cloth incredulously. "I don't know if I really..."
"Don't be shy!" Lorna interjected, grasping her by the hand to pull her to her feet. "I'll show you what to do. Just relax and it'll be easy."
In the face of such authority, Melissa felt numb. She took the swim suit Lorna pushed at her, waiting to be directed to a dressing room.
"Hurry up, put it on," Lorna pressed.
Melissa's eyes rounded. "Here?"
"Why not?" John answered. "You can't be bashful-I've already seen you in the buff, so what does it matter? No use wasting time on false modesty. Am I not right?"
Melissa knew that logically what he was saying was true-he had seen her completely naked in the art class. But that was different, somehow. There was something innately more salacious about undressing in front of a man than even being naked before him.
Her reluctance must have shown, for Lorna said to her, "Hey, don't start getting camera shy already! C'mon, I'll help you. All the girls feel awkward at first."
Melissa stood stock still as Lorna began pulling her blouse upward with methodical nonchalance. "Lift up your arms," she commanded as though Melissa were an invalid in her care. "See, easy as pie!"
Melissa could hardly believe this was happening to her. She felt a rush of cool air as her upper torso was bared by Lorna's nimble fingers. The modeling session in the art class had been something of a shock to her system, but it hadn't compared to this.
Lorna, apparently not in the least perturbed by Melissa's lack of cooperation, was busy unfastening the girl's slacks. Her hands felt warm and strangely stimulating as she pulled the pants down Melissa's creamy thighs.
Melissa imagined Lorna was joking when she stepped back for a moment and ogled Melissa's underwear-clad body with a whistle. It was a peculiar way of kidding around and Melissa laughed nervously.
Dazed, Melissa allowed Lorna to treat her as if she were an oversized Barbie doll. There seemed to be something suspicious about the way this strange woman touched her, almost as if Lorna were purposefully being more intimate than the situation required. Still, Melissa appreciated the shield the brunette woman gave her from John. She fought with her guilt complex, trying to keep her composure.
Wearing only her lacy yellow bra and a pair of sheer yellow nylon panties, Melissa felt more vulnerable than when thirty sets of eyes were taking in her nude form a half-hour earlier. Flushing, she fluttered her eyelids up to peek sheepishly at John. Was he really leering at her or was her overactive imagination deceiving her again?
"Let's forget the bikini," he advised Lorna. "She'll do fine with what she's wearing now."
Melissa balked. Did he really want to take a picture of her dressed in her underwear? It seemed peculiar, and yet, she was relieved that she did not have to strip completely.
"Right," Lorna agreed, spreading a large beach towel on the floor in front of one of the white backdrops. "C'mon over here and sit down," Lorna motioned to Melissa. "Get into a sort of sexy pose, okay?"
Melissa settled down and did her best to please Lorna, assuming a coy, coquettish position on the towel. She felt Andon devouring her with his eyes and a new rush of guilt exploded in her brain. But there's nothing really wrong with doing this, she told herself. I've gone swimming in no more clothing than this; even if Dennis were to see me now, he couldn't be angry.
Lorna threw up her hands disdainfully. "No, no! You look like you're scared to death. You've got to pretend you're a real sun worshiper-here, get up and I'll demonstrate."
The two girls exchanged places.
"Okay, you have to stretch your legs out like this." Lorna demonstrated, splaying her thighs apart lewdly. "And lean your head back a little, this way, like you're enjoying yourself." She scrambled up from the towel and drew Melissa down again. "Now try it."
Melissa did as well as she could to imitate the abandoned pose Lorna had suggested; she thrust her willowy legs out brazenly, leaning back on her hands, and took a deep breath to accentuate the fullness of her breasts.
Andon cried, "Hold it right there!" He deftly adjusted his lens and snapped a picture.
Melissa realized she was posing more erotically than she had for the art class, but instead of feeling ashamed, she was enjoying the exhibitionistic opportunity to display her body. She blamed the illicit desire on the liquor, but it was all she could do to keep her eyes away from Andon's crotch. She secretly hoped she was turning him on. She was sure he was aware of the semitransparency of her yellow panties and she wondered if he could even see the wispy blonde hair that she knew curled up around the leg bands at the hollows of her inner thighs.
He took a few more pictures at different angles. "Okay, let's have another drink to celebrate," he finally declared, pushing another glass into Melissa's hand.
"I really shouldn't drink any more," she said.
"Of course you should," Lorna interjected. "I think the reason this world's so messed up is 'cause people don't celebrate often enough." She gave a low husky laugh and held out her glass for a toast. "To the continual celebration of everything!"
Melissa eyed Lorna and her brother reluctantly. "But I have to be going home soon."
"Not until I get a few more pictures," Andon insisted. He settled down on the beach towel beside Melissa and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "I think those first shots were underexposed."
Melissa took a halfhearted sip of her drink. It was as strong as the last one had been, but she was already feeling nicely cozy and euphoric, Everything was happening so fast-she'd never dreamed she could land a job so prestigious as this with so little effort.
Andon took a drag of his cigarette and stared at his camera speculatively. "The thing is," he intoned, "we've got to shop your pictures around to... all the big fashion houses. For the first photos, they want to see the model in the nude." He glanced at Melissa casually. "They like to see the body contours-skeletal structure and all that-to get an idea what sort of styles she can model."
Melissa tried to conceal her vague alarm. She had no idea of the technicalities of modeling, and she felt foolish protesting. John and Lorna would think her a naive, strait-laced prude if she complained. She only wished she didn't have to do it in front of John-if just Lorna could take the pictures, she wouldn't mind.
Andon stood up and strutted over to his camera again. Melissa watched him with a lingering stare, mentally envisioning him naked, too. She wondered if his cock would be as hot and eager as her own cunt was now.
"Up and at 'em," Lorna said in a jocular tone. She touched Melissa's arm lightly, sending a shiver through her.
Melissa immediately sprang up from the towel and shed her bra and panties. She knew if she hesitated, she'd become embarrassed, or worse than that, Lorna would take matters into her own hands, and Melissa did not like the idea of this strange woman taking such liberties with her body.
It was not until Andon spoke that Melissa dared look at him. "Okay, back up a little and put your hands on your hips," he directed her.
She back stepped toward the screen, planting her hands on her white hips as he'd instructed. For the first time, she realized the liquor had taken its toll on her and she felt a little woozy. She took a deep breath to clear her head and noticed Andon's eyes flame with intensified interest. She knew her sexual thoughts had made her nipples as plump as red cherries.
There was really no way to hide. If she tried, she would simply look ridiculous. She decided to give up all pretense of modesty and do just the opposite-to be as seductive as possible. She was already beginning to like this more than the art-class modeling. It seemed for the first time in her life she was being given permission to act as provocatively as she wanted-even being encouraged to do so.
Purposefully arching her spine to accentuate the voluptuous hillocks of her breasts, she angled her body in a way that could not be interpreted as anything but a come-on. Her eyes became bold and shameless as her lips drooped, silently daring Andon to react to her licentious invitation.
He did not seem in the least bit chagrined. Without warning, he snapped a picture. "How about sitting down again?" he said from behind the camouflage of the camera.
With vulpine grace, Melissa sank down to the floor. This time she required no prompting from Lorna to act sexy. She leaned back on her hands, half-kneeling, her legs apart more than enough to give Andon an enticing view of her furry cunt. She knew she was overdoing it, but something inside her drove her to behave this way. Was it defiance? Anger at being put in this compromising role? Or just her incessant longing to play out a repressed fantasy? Whatever it was, Melissa's sense of propriety seemed to have deserted her. She batted her lashes coyly at Andon. "Is this right?"
Andon lifted his head from behind the camera, his eyes glinting, his gaze roaming over her brazenly displayed flesh, visually devouring the breathtaking peaks of her uplifted tits, the slender, tapering waist and tear-shaped navel that seemed to be falling, like a water droplet, toward the dewy, blonde moss-lipped crack of her pussy. Melissa wondered if he might start drooling over her.
"That's....just fine," he said, rolling the words slowly from his tongue. "Don't move." He clicked the camera shutter several times.
Melissa waited, motionless, for further instructions. She had ceased to worry about the ethics of modeling nude before the camera. The camera itself lost meaning for her. All she thought about was John Andon and the way he'd just looked at her. She'd never seen a man stare at her with a hunger like that, and she began to wonder how much she could tease him before he would stop looking and do something.
"Can you.... spread your legs apart a little more?" Andon said at last.
Melissa felt a wily smile curl up around her sensuous lips. Without hesitation, she flung her legs wide apart-wider, she could tell by Andon's surprised glance, than he had intended. His eyes riveted to her exposed crotch, the deep pink slash of her cunt fully apparent now. Without his suggesting it, Melissa cupped both her breasts in her hands, like twin scoops of vanilla ice cream.
Andon rapidly snapped a couple more pictures. Melissa did not dare let herself think about the possible repercussions for her behavior. She felt her cunt tingling with lust, her heavy breasts swollen with the craving to be sucked.
She had all but forgotten Lorna when suddenly the dark-haired girl appeared beside her, stark naked. Melissa gave a gasp of astonishment, scrambling back from the shockingly aggressive woman.
"Okay, now we're going to take a few shots with both of you," Andon's voice rose from behind the camera.
"What?" Melissa looked skeptically from Lorna to John Andon. "I don't understand. What does this have to do with..."
"Don't worry about it, sugar," Lorna broke her off. "There's a lot of money in this business, and I can tell you're the right type."
Right type?
Melissa's thoughts spun crazily; at once she realized that Andon had already photographed her in enough incriminating poses to fill her with remorse for a lifetime. She tried to leap to her feet but Lorna grabbed her arm, brutally twisting her back down.
"Please, I don't want to do this any more," she pleaded with the other girl, whose big tits were nearly brushing against her own. Against her will, Melissa stared down at Lorna's nude body, the quivering, bloated billows of her breasts, the beautifully smooth, tanned skin, the darkly tufted V at her crotch. For some reason, Melissa was unable to tear her eyes away, unable, even, to make herself move.
Lorna smiled, her pink tongue darting out to moisten the thin red ribbons of her lips. "Ever had a girl suck on your tits before, sugar?"
"Oh, God," Melissa breathed, though her words were all but inaudible. She felt paralyzed with fear and with a strange, creeping excitement she couldn't admit. She watched in panic-stricken fascination as Lorna's slender fingers trailed up her arm and nudged gently at the creamy, resilient side of her right breast.
Then, before Melissa could snap out of her atrophied awe, the elegant brunette head bobbed down, and a warm, scintillating mouth closed over her nipple.
Melissa wanted to protest but her voice broke with a ragged moan and the reckless push she gave to shove Lorna away worked in reverse; her abrupt movement set her off balance and she was at Lorna's mercy. Lorna took advantage of the opportunity to swing Melissa backward, quickly squirming atop the outstretched girl.
Melissa struggled like a flailing fish to get out from under Lorna's suffocating possession. Her frantic attempt to wrestle herself free created an oddly pleasant friction with the pliant, undulating body of her captress, and against all her own wishes, Melissa found her body welcoming the other woman's salacious embrace.
Lorna wiggled to her side, pulling Melissa over parallel to her, their bodies still meshed together in warm quivering contact. Melissa faintly realized this was her chance to disengage herself from Lorna, but she no longer controlled her desires. Never in her wildest fantasies had she imagined the thrill of being caressed in another woman's arms, and the sensation was so overwhelming she could not fight.
Sensing Melissa's new passivity to her advances, Lorna wrapped her body around the slender girl like an amorous crab. She slung her leg over Melissa's buttocks, so as to rub her dark, wiry-pelted cunt against the sparse blonde one, her arms pressing against Melissa's spine, squeezing bellies and tits against one another.
A shiver of incredible lust coursed through Melissa's every nerve as Lorna kissed her full on the mouth, her snaking tongue fluttering tantalizingly between Melissa's barely parted lips. She did not kiss the way a man did; her mouth was sweeter, somehow softer, and Melissa felt she was melting, flowing into a shimmering sea of prickly, tormentingly pleasant sensation as Lorna's lips fastened to her own.
Lorna broke the kiss. "That's it, sugar," she cooed. "Just let it happen and you'll like it, I promise you that." She arched away from Melissa, rising to her knees to bow down over Melissa's breasts. Melissa rolled easily to her back, wrapping her hands around the dominant girl's shoulders, intoxicated with passion.
Lorna planted generous wet kisses all over the white satiny mounds of Melissa's tits, nipping softly at the pliant skin, nuzzling her face into the valley between the succulent globes. She used both her hands to tweak the nipples into stiff ruddy points while Melissa twisted and groaned with delight.
Eyes closed tight, Melissa rocked her body in erotic pleasure as Lorna began kissing downward on her body, making moist slurping sounds as she licked her round firm belly and began to kiss and tease her tongue over Melissa's lovely thighs.
When Lorna gently pried Melissa's legs open, Melissa was too far immersed in the urgency of her need to defend herself. A raspy, rapid gasp broke from her lungs as Melissa felt the busy wet tongue strop across her pussy. She trembled and jerked her legs as Lorna's tongue parted the hairy fringe of her pubes to delve into the saline treasure of the membranes below.
Melissa's pelvis involuntarily pumped upward in coital motions as Lorna dipped her tongue deep into the slick folds of her vagina. When Lorna located the nub of Melissa's clitoris, she began to suck on it so voraciously the blonde became faint with agonized lust. She dug her fingers into Lorna's dark hair, throwing her legs up around the girl's shoulders to give full access to her simmering cunt.
When the sharp, unanticipated stab of Lorna's finger shot into her tight little asshole, Melissa virtually screamed with uncontained pleasure, her entire body convulsing as her cunt wriggled furiously under the unbearably tantalizing stimulation. A flash of light accompanied the searing erotic thrill, and Melissa's body tensed on the brink of orgasm. From somewhere deep inside the recesses of her consciousness wafted up the thought: The camera.
Gasping with excitement and regret, though too late, of course, Melissa's mind registered what had happened: Andon had taken a picture of her and Lorna!
With a deadening surge of horror, Melissa thrashed away from Lorna and bolted to her feet. She lunged at Andon, her mind clouded with hysterical rage, her only thought to destroy the camera that held the wicked evidence of her terrible weakness.
"Hey, wait a minute!" Lorna was up and after her, seizing her by an ankle and roughly yanking her backward.
Melissa kicked wildly but lost her balance and fell, with a painfully loud smack, flat on her ass. Woozy from her unaccustomed drinking, frustrated with impotent anger and a ravaging heat in her unsatisfied pussy, she burst into tears. "I hate you both!" she sobbed vehemently. "I hate you!"
Lorna crawled to her and tried to put her arm around her but Melissa shoved her away viciously.
"Leave her alone, Sis," Andon said. "I'll have a talk with her myself." '
"I don't want to talk to you!" Melissa spat at him, her body quaking with indignation, the comical helplessness of her position angering her all the more. "I want you to destroy that film. Those aren't the kind of pictures I wanted you to take of me!" She looked around desperately for her clothes. Lorna had already disappeared from the room.... and so had, to Melissa's abysmal dismay, the camera.
"It really doesn't matter what you wanted," Andon said to her, his voice impassive. "You signed a release, so I can legally do what I want with the pictures."
Melissa looked up at him, wide-eyed. "You wouldn't... you aren't going to sell those pictures, are you?" Even as she asked the question, the ugly knot in her stomach told her what his answer would be. But he didn't understand. He didn't know about Dennis....
"My husband," she said, her voice unsteady and imploring, "if he finds out I did this..."
Andon laughed. "It's not so much different from modeling nude for the art class. Why should he care?"
She wanted to stand up, but the way Andon was looking at her made her feel more ashamed of her nakedness than ever, and she felt she could conceal her body better in the position she was already in. She locked her legs tightly together and huddled over in a futile effort to shield her breasts from him. "He didn't know I was modeling for the art class!" she blurted. "He thought I was doing secretarial work. He'd kill me if he knew about this!"
Andon studied her silently, a change passing over his angular features. Was he relenting? Did he see now that he couldn't possibly hold her to the contract she'd signed?
"Hmm," Andon said at last. "That's a complication, isn't it? Tell you what, you get dressed now and go home. I'll talk to you about this again-say, on Wednesday?"
Melissa screwed up her face at him. "I want to talk about it now!"
Andon dismissed her, glancing at his watch. "I'm sorry, I have things to do." He peered up at her with a baleful smile. "Your husband-his name is Dennis, isn't it?"
Melissa nodded, perplexed.
"Good. See you Wednesday." The way his eyes passed over her before he left the room made Melissa wish she'd never have to see him again as long as she lived.
CHAPTER THREE
MELISSA STUDIED HER REFLECTION IN HER bathroom mirror, chagrined at her appearance-hair tousled, clothes rumpled; she looked cheap and whorish. Thank God, Dennis hadn't noticed her when she'd come into the house. A warm shower would be relaxing, and hopefully would rid her of the filthy feeling she had from her sexual encounter with Lorna.
The mere thought of Lorna enraged her. She adjusted the water for her shower and peeled off her disheveled clothing. Her body ached and her head was pounding painfully; the drinking had been a mistake in more ways than one.
She stepped into the black-tiled bathtub, pulling the frosted glass partition closed. The hot caress of the water splashing on her body felt good. She soaped a washcloth and spread the rich lather over her arms and breasts, then down across her stomach and loins, paying particular attention to the violated pubic area.
As the cloth rubbed across her tender pussy, a hot sensation of excitement pulsed between her legs. The genital arousal both shamed and angered her. How could she let herself feel sexually stimulated after what had just happened? Still, she dwelled guiltily in the thrill of the warm sudsy cloth, trying to forget Lorna and her barbaric photographer-brother.
She dropped the washcloth and moved her fingers across the tender membranes of her cuntlips. Her clitoris drew into a hard little knob at her touch. Melissa stroked the aching button gently, shivering. She closed her eyes and let the warm water embrace her, petting her sex-bud more avidly. The feeling of pleasure heightened until it was nearly unbearable and she would have orgasmed had not the sound of the bathroom door opening shocked her out of her trance.
"Melissa?" It was Dennis, his head poked into the bathroom.
She was startled. "What?" she squeaked from behind the misty glass door.
"Are you nearly finished? I'm starving."
"I'll be out in a second," she promised him.
Dennis sauntered into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself. "Do you mind if I wait here for you?"
"In here?" she called. "Isn't it too steamy for you?"
He leaned back against the sink. "No, I'll pretend it's a sauna bath," and he laughed. The sight of his young wife naked behind the hazy glass door excited him. He felt as if he were spying on a nude goddess in a foggy dream and he was tempted to take off his clothes and join her.
Melissa sighed wearily, wondering if he was angry at her for not having his dinner ready. She hurriedly rinsed the soap from her body and turned off the water. Her clitoris throbbed in protest but she had to ignore it.
When she stepped from the tub, her body glowed a rosy pink from the hot water. Dennis handed her a towel, studying her as she wiped herself dry. He liked the way her big tits rolled on her chest as she patted them with the towel, her nipples pointing up at him invitingly.
Melissa was relieved to see the martini glass in Dennis' hand. If he was drinking himself, he probably wouldn't notice the liquor on her breath.
"You really didn't have to stand here until I came out," she laughed nervously. "I'll go and make dinner before you die of starvation."
"It wasn't dinner I had an appetite worked up for," he replied, mischievously taking the towel away from her. He leaned forward and took her into his arms. Her body was soft and supple against his own. He set his glass on the edge of the sink, then ran his hands down her sleek, damp back, to dig his fingers into her plump buttocks.
"Now?" she laughed again, though the idea was very appealing to her. She shuddered involuntarily as she realized she was going to fuck her husband so soon after her erotic encounter with Lorna. There was something about it that seemed deceitful and vile.
Dennis pulled her closer to him and delivered a long, impassioned kiss, his thick tongue lunging into her mouth. He grasped her smooth wet buttocks with more urgency and pulled her pelvis tight against his own.
Melissa rocked her hips against him in response to his touch, grinding her cunt into the crotch of his trousers. She put her arms around his neck, returning the fiery-tongued kiss.
He broke the kiss, his breath coming hard and excited. "Hey, you're really hot tonight, aren't you?"
She took his face between her palms and planted little kisses around his mouth and cheeks in reply.
Oh, God, Dennis,
she thought, if you only knew why I was so horny!
He put one arm around her sleek back and dipped down suddenly, reaching for her legs. In an instant he was lifting her into his arms.
"Hey, what are you doing?" she giggled in astonishment, feeling like a bride being carried over the threshold.
"I'm taking you," he grunted, moving toward the bathroom door and kicking it open widely, "to the bed!" He carried her out of the bathroom and into the adjoining bedroom, enjoying her mock struggle to get away from him. She squirmed like a bitch in heat.
When they reached the king-sized bed, he set Melissa down and started to undress. She stretched out her long beautiful legs, dividing them just wide enough for him to get an enticing view of the juicy cunt in store for him.
He threw his clothes off and climbed up on the bed beside her. His cock was already rigid and ready to go. Melissa let her eyes travel down her husband's naked, muscular frame. Although he was not spectacularly handsome, Melissa had always loved the solid, virile build of his body. It gave her pleasure to look at his stiff cock, and his need for her was a catalyst for her own desire.
He rolled over against her and cupped a hand over one of her full, pliable tits. She made a little moan but did not stir. She let him kiss her mouth, her lips parting passively as his tongue sought hers in voracious demand.
He slipped his arms around her and drew her close against him, their warm flesh merging in joyful communion. He rained kisses down her throat and across her shoulders. She arched herself up to him, reveling in the tingling, wispy thrill that would culminate in the exquisite pleasure of getting fucked. His mustache tickled as his mouth brushed her neck and she wiggled in gleeful protest.
He played across her breasts with warm, wet kisses, and she twined her fingers into his wavy, sandy-blond hair, basking in the delectable sensation he was giving her. His tongue flicked over her nipples until the tiny pearl of pink flesh was hard and rubbery.
Melissa made throaty sounds of pleasure as he moved to the other nipple and sucked it into his mouth. He slurped at the tit like a hungry baby, then let it fall from his mouth, the nipple shriveled into a rosy knot of lust.
He made a soft bite into the creamy flesh below her breasts and she shrieked and undulated in frenzied excitement. Her passion encouraged him to abandon himself to his baser instincts. He moved one hand against her inner thigh, then upward, to the fluffy fur that marked her sweet treasure.
His fingers crept to explore the hot, sweltering chasm between her legs. Her body trembled in a shock of bliss and she shook her hips in answer to his palpitating fingers.
Her cunt was already juicing with eagerness and the musky ambrosia rose intoxicatingly to his nostrils. He pumped two fingers deep into her slick, tight canal, and she shivered with anticipation.
Melissa could feel the hardness of his cock pushing against her soft belly. She snuggled her hand down until she reached the turgid rod, her adroit fingers closing around the tool. It throbbed in her hand like an anxious eel. She slid her fingers down the thick cockhead and marveled at the strength of the long, slender shaft. Her hand moved up and down his cock lightly, teasingly, then she tightened her grip and jacked her hand down hard and fast, signaling her urgency for him.
He thrust his groin forward, inebriated with pleasure. He grabbed to still her hand and made a quick twisting motion, torquing his body around until his head was just above her wiggling cunt.
Melissa stiffened. Her pussy still tingled from Lorna's tongue and the thought of Dennis putting his mouth there now was too awful for her to bear. She and Dennis never indulged in oral sex, as a matter of fact, though he occasionally made a halfhearted attempt to interest her in it. Melissa knew inwardly that she really wanted Dennis to eat her pussy, and she also wanted to suck on his cock, but somehow she couldn't admit these desires to her husband-even though he openly expressed the same desires himself.
Melissa would be hard pressed to justify her avoidance of all but the customary missionary-position lovemaking with her husband. To Dennis she would often say, "It's just not right to do anything else." She'd never told him about the time she'd given head to her cousin Gerald, or the dirtiness she'd felt for years after that experience. She had long ago concluded that oral variations of sex were abnormal and sinful, and that a man and woman who loved each other would never stoop to such perversions.
Dennis, oblivious to her sudden frigidity, impulsively lowered his face to the warm, savory swamp of her pussy. Just before his mouth made scintillating contact, she grabbed him frantically by the hair and tugged him upward.
"Dennis, don't!" she whispered imploringly.
He glared up at her coldly, a flare of resentment beaming from his steely gray eyes. "Don't you think you might like it? Just for the novelty of it?"
"No," she lied, cringing at the memory of the novel experience she'd had that very afternoon. "It just doesn't appeal to me, Dennis."
"You can't say that if you've never tried it," he interposed.
She closed her eyes and said softly, "I wish I could make you satisfied without doing that, Dennis."
He regarded her with thinly veiled disgust. "This is what I deserve for marrying a virgin."
Melissa began to cry. "Please don't be mad at me, Dennis. I love you but I just can't make love that way. Please try to understand!" Her cunt was aching as though it had been set on fire. The thought of Dennis licking it, sliding his tongue up her vagina, sucking her salty juices, quelling the raging heat between her trembling thighs-the very thought made her clitoris throb with a maddening passion. Oh, Dennis! her mind screamed. I do want you to suck my hot cunt! If only she could ignore the censoring voice of her conscience, if only she could tell him....
Dennis lay back and stared at the ceiling, listening to his wife's choking sobs. He was aggravated by her tears. He hadn't wanted to ignite one of her usual emotional traumas when it had been going so smoothly-and it was extremely rare for it to go so well. Usually, they had sex in a ritualistic, mechanical way, with Melissa lying frozen like a martyred saint, apathetically submitting to his lust. For the First year of their marriage, Dennis had actually thought she was frigid.
"Look, I'm sorry, honey," he whispered, trying to remedy the situation. His balls were hurting with need for gratification. "I was being selfish." Melissa sobbed back her tears. "I'm sorry, too." He rocked her warm, irresistible body in his arms until she quieted, her tits ballooning against his chest. Neither of them spoke, their hands tentatively roaming each other's bodies.
Melissa eased away from him slightly, moving her hand against the dark curly hair of his chest. She traced a line with her fingernail from his chest to his pubic region. Her hands sought his cock, which was still hard and persistently throbbing.
"I still want you, Dennis," she said timidly. "I want your prick inside my cunt."
His stiff cock pulsed more avidly at her touch, her crudely affectionate language increasing his libido. She stroked her fingers up and down the organ until it stood up in a regal salute. She kissed his mouth and wiggled her buoyant tits against his bicep.
He rolled over on top of her again and nudged his hardened cock across her belly. She spread her legs to help him mount her and his tool slid down to the moist crack of her cunt.
Melissa drew up her knees to widen her opening and Dennis swabbed her soft cuntmouth with the head of his cock. Almost effortlessly, he felt his tool sink into the depths of her cunt. His previous disappointment was forgotten. All he cared about now was the luscious sensation shooting sparks of pleasure through his bursting cock.
The heat of her flesh encompassed him, swallowing his thick pole in fierce wakes of ecstasy. He thrust his pulsing cock as deep as it would go and Melissa gasped joyfully, raising her legs higher to take in all of him. With another lunge, he felt himself squeeze even further into her mysterious hole, and tantalized with the agonizingly delicious sensation, he rammed his groin at her velvety cunt, feeling the trembling skin of her asscheeks bounce softly against his furious nuts.
Her cunt sucked him like a live vacuum. She twisted and heaved beneath him, her earlier inhibitions cast to the wind. Her hands were in his hair again, but now they entwined like wiggling snakes, begging him to go on.
"Oh, baby, that's great!" Dennis growled, digging his hands into her buttocks to pull her even closer to him.
Melissa replied by swinging her legs around his back, forcing him snugger into her seething cunt. Her breath was coming in fast pants, slowly transforming to little squeals of bliss. As his gouging tool drove into her, she was filled with amazing shocks of delirious pleasure-he had never made her feel so good! She surprised herself with her own unprecedented passion for him; her hungry snatch convulsed around him madly, insatiably, wetly clamoring for the gift of release.
Her body was slick with sex-sweat despite her recent bath, but she didn't care if she drowned in her own juices. All she wanted was to feel that strong, powerful cock pounding into her, making her crazy with pleasure.
Dennis bored his aching prick into her spongy membranes with intensified vigor. He had never been able to excite her so much and he didn't chance letting up and losing her. Her fingers clawed scratches into the lean meat of his back, sending stinging jolts through his hot flesh. His cock was pounding to near-explosion with the pressure building within his balls, but he strained to keep pumping, faster and harder, feeling as though he might split her apart in his ardent determination to make her come.
"Ohhh!" Melissa arched up, her legs suddenly constricting around his back like iron tongs.
"Ohhh, ohhh!" Her vaginal muscles snapped and locked around his cockshaft in churning waves of orgasm.
At last he could give reign to his own need. He began a wild, lust-drunken ride home, ramming up and down against her quaking tissues in animal fury. The exquisitely torturous feeling was so severe he let out a deep cry and all the jism dammed up in his balls burst forth, flooding her cunt in thick, sizzling splashes.
He shuddered as the electric pangs of satisfaction spread like fingers through his nerves. Exhausted, he collapsed against her, crushing their bodies together in a heaving, lathered mass.
After several seconds, he withdrew his cock from her wet cunt, dragging a thin streak of white cum across her leg as he turned to recline beside her.
Melissa was still lost in the aftermath of their fucking. Her mind swirled in glorious oblivion, her body glowing with satisfaction. Dennis laid one arm across her stomach and rested his head against the damp, salty cushion of her breasts. "Honey, that was terrific," he breathed.
She opened her eyes and looked at him tenderly. "It was for me, too," she confessed.
"I don't know what you did at work today, but whatever it was, I hope you keep doing it," he went on languidly. "I guess you were right about needing to get a job to feel worth something. I'm sorry I put up so much fight about letting you get a part-time job."
Melissa's paradise crumbled to regret. The horrible, terrible irony of what he was saying-if only he knew! But even worse than the ordeal she had gone through during the afternoon was her stricken realization that what he'd just said was true! Her experience with Lorna was what had made her so willing and eager for sex with Dennis. Lorna and John Andon-that conniving, devious, monstrous fiend-had actually made her more turned on to sex than she had been in the entire three years of marriage.
Acknowledging the fact sickened her, made her hate herself with a passion that dispelled all the exhilaration she had moments earlier enjoyed.
She wished Dennis would slap her, spit on her, do anything but lie so close to her and show her such kindness.
With a rush of self-hatred, she sprang up from the bed and ran to the closet to get dressed.
Dennis propped himself up in the bed, astonished. "Is something wrong, honey?"
"No, of course not," she answered him rigidly, forcing a smile. "I just have to make our dinner. You must be famished."
"You don't have to rush," he beamed at her. "I can wait to eat. Right now I feel so great I may never need to eat again."
"Uh-uh, I've got to make sure you keep up all that energy!" She hoped he couldn't hear the trembling deceitfulness in her voice. Slipping into a sheath dress, she hurried from the bedroom. She had already made up her mind to quite the job with the art class-and never to see John Andon or his sister again!
CHAPTER FOUR
MELISSA WAS STRETCHED INDOLENTLY ON the bed. Her silky robe wide open, she absently fingered the crinkly blonde locks of her pubic hair. She was tired from having spent the better part of the day walking downtown in fruitless search of new employment. She hadn't told Dennis she'd decided to quit her part-time job yet, and she was worried about how to break the news to him.
Their last lovemaking session had also triggered some disturbing sex fantasies for her-she kept wishing that he would physically force her to suck his prick. If only she didn't have to take the responsibility, she would gladly drink his jism.
"Hey, honey, what's this?" he called from the living room.
"Just a minute," she answered. She rose from the bed, tightening the sash of her burgundy robe. It was a buttonless, gossamer kimono and with nothing wore beneath it, the material bloused open and provided a provocative view of her globular, ripe breasts.
"What were you asking me about?" she inquired, prancing seductively into the room. She hoped he was in a mood for sex.
He was sitting in his easy chair, thumbing through the day's mail. He thrust a letter toward her.
She immediately saw that it bore the university's letterhead. The letter read:
Dear Mrs. Edwards,
Due to an overcrowding of classes, we are dividing our SKETCHING 201 class into two groups-the current Mon/Fri class plus an additional Wed/Thurs class, if you are interested in modeling for the Wednesday and Thursday session also, please contact Professor Louis Frazier.
Melissa gaped at the letter as though it were poison. He could she explain it?
"It's addressed to you," Dennis stated.
"They must have made some kind of mistake," she blurted out. "I work for the history department!" She felt Dennis' eyes burning a hole through her, but she couldn't look at him. She heard the betraying panic in her voice and knew he wasn't convinced.
"Melissa," he spoke quietly, "are you sure you don't know anything about this? Why are you so nervous?"
Her mind grappled desperately for an excuse, but nothing credible emerged. Self-consciously, she tightened her silk belt, pulling at the collar of her robe to hide her melonous tits. "Dennis," she pleaded meekly, "I.... don't feel very well tonight.... it's not that I'm nervous..." She stared down at the floor dismally. If she pretended innocence to the letter, he might believe her, but what if he called the school to be sure? It would be even worse if he found out that way. It wasn't fair that such a stupid thing could happen after she'd decided to quit the job. Why hadn't she had the foresight to check the mail?
He stood abruptly. "Do you model for the art class, Melissa?"
She knew she couldn't lie to him. She nodded weakly, defending herself by saying, "But not any more! I already-"
"Why did you tell me you were working as a secretary?" he cut her off.
"I didn't think you'd let me model," she said in a barely audible tone.
"Why the hell not? I've got nothing against art."
"Yes, but... "
"But what? Why all this damned mystery?"
She took a deep breath, inflating her chest. She felt her throat tighten against the words she forced herself to say. "I... I had to model in the nude."
"YOU HAD TO WHAT?" He lurched toward her. "You don't mean to tell me that you..." He stopped, the look on his face so strange Melissa couldn't tell if he were going to kill her or burst out laughing. "I can hardly believe it," he sneered. "You? Miss Twentieth-Century Prude, modeling naked?" He gave a coarse laugh.
Melissa looked up at him hopefully. "I-"
"No wonder you were so hot for it Monday when you came home! You spent the afternoon doing a goddamn striptease show!"
Melissa threw back her head defensively. "That's not true! It's just an art... "Her voice trailed off. The episode in Andon's studio flashed through her mind and she could not say another word to justify herself. Dennis' accusations could not approach the reality of what she'd done. She had made love to a woman. She had let a strange woman suck her tits and cunt and had become more aroused by the experience than she'd ever before been with her own husband.
"I was going to hand in my resignation tomorrow," she said earnestly. "I decided I couldn't do it any more." She was frightened; she'd never seen Dennis so angry. "I don't know how to apologize," she stammered rapidly. "I don't know why I ever took the job in the first place... I must be crazy!"
"Yeah, real crazy," he spat. "All this talk about wanting to find a job where you can feel important! Is that how you feel important? Showing your goddamn cunt to the world?" He stared at her bitterly, daring her to defend herself. When she said nothing, he shouted, "Don't you have any respect for me at all? It's bad enough that you're such an iceberg I can't get a decent lay in my own home, but then you go out and flaunt it to the whole world!"
She couldn't believe her ears. Iceberg? He'd never said anything like that to her before. She knew she never let her real passions come forth when making love to him, but that was for his sake. She wanted to be a good, proper wife to him. Now, even the things she'd done right were wrong!
"Dennis," she sobbed, "I didn't know..."
"Can the phony little-girl act, Melissa!" he howled. "What do you take me for, a complete idiot? I may have been a fool all along, but I'm done with that game. Get the hell out of my house, you cheap little slut!"
She backed away from him fearfully, her hands flying to cover her face in horror. "Dennis, please," she sobbed behind the shield of trembling fingers.
"GET OUT!"
She spun around and ran recklessly to the bedroom, ripping her robe off and flinging it to the floor as though to invite the heavens to strike her cursed naked body with a bolt of vengeful lightning. She saw herself in the full-length mirror, her face tear-streaked, her supple body mantled with shame and confusion. She knew Dennis was serious-that she had no choice but to get dressed and leave. She wondered if he would ever forgive her and let her come back-but he still didn't know the worst of it. What would happen if he actually found out she was a Lesbian? What if he saw those pictures that Andon had taken-close-ups of her open cunt, Lorna eating her out. What kind of retaliation would he have then?
She quickly fastened on a bra and slipped into her panties. Her pussy was still drenched with sap from her recent reveries. She pulled a snug minidress on over her head.
Where would she go? Her parents lived in another city and she didn't have any really close friends-not close enough to move in on them. She didn't have any great amount of money to speak of...
All she could come up with was her older brother, Greg. He lived about ten miles away, and would most probably let her stay with him until she got her life straightened out.
She quickly packed a suitcase with essential clothes for at least a few days. She prayed that Dennis would cool off and try to understand. She considered calling Greg first to tell him she was coming, then decided against it, and instead used the bedroom phone to call a cab.
By the time she was ready to go, the doorbell buzzed. She hoisted her suitcase and marched resolutely to the front door. Dennis wasn't in the living room; he must have gone into the study. She'd left a note for him on the dresser-if he had a change of heart, he'd know where he could find her.
She opened the front door.
"You called a cab, ma'am?" the driver asked. He was young, probably in his early twenties, and very good-looking.
She could feel his eyes on her tits. "Yes," she said coldly. "Would you please take my bag?"
When he leaned forward to catch the handle of the suitcase, his eyes ran down the length of her body, coming to rest on her shapely bare thighs.
For a fading instant, she wished she'd worn a longer dress, but then she felt that libidinous tingling in her clit again and she knew she really liked men to look at her like that. She'd even gone out of her way to look super-sexy for the cabby, subconsciously soothing her wounded ego for the remark Dennis had made about her not being a "decent lay." But what's wrong with me? she asked herself cruelly. I deserved Dennis' anger. Why isn't that a lesson to me; why can't I stop thinking like a cheap nymphomaniac?
Without even a good-bye to her stewing husband, she followed the cabby out to his car. He slung her suitcase in the spacious back of the taxi, then opened the sedan door, his eyes taking in her legs as her skirt hiked up when she climbed into the seat.
She gave him her brother's address, then sat stiffly back in the dark seat as he pulled onto the highway. As they rode along, the driver made several attempts at friendly conversation, but Melissa sat in stony silence. She knew what he wanted, really. She'd seen the way he'd looked at her. He wanted to fuck her.
She stared at the back of his stout neck, wondering if his thick build extended to his cock. Would it be blunt and hard? Would he fuck with fast little jabs, or long, smooth strokes? She knew that if she wanted to, she could examine his cock to see if her conjecture was correct. She felt powerful. She could control men if she wanted to. And if she did have a sexual liaison with the cabby, who would ever know? He was a complete stranger...
"I don't have any money," she suddenly blurted.
The driver swiveled around and looked at her through the mesh screen. "What do you mean you don't have any money? I ain't no charity operation, lady."
"I mean," Melissa purred, licking her lips significantly, "I'll have to pay you in some other way."
After a time to let that line sink in, he said, "Such as?"
"I'll give you a hand job," she said coolly. She knew she had a twenty-dollar bill in her purse. What was she doing?
He swung off an exit ramp and drove down a dark side street. They were only halfway to her brother's place. He veered to the curb, cutting his engine and turning out the lights. His radio emitted noisy static as he jumped out of the car and rapidly ducked into the back seat beside Melissa.
"Make it quick," he said. "They're keeping track of my time downtown." He whipped his flaccid dick out of his fly. It was stubby and fat, its uncircumcised head hooded with a pointy flesh cap.
Melissa wrapped her fingers around the proffered organ and started massaging it gently, feeling the engorgement begin immediately. She liked the feel of the growing prick in her hand; it made her feel like she could perform magic.
The cabby reached for her tits and she pushed his hand away.
"No," she said. "If you touch me I'll scream rape. I said I'd give you a hand job and that's all." She reached into his trousers and started fondling his hairy balls. They were warm and her tender caresses made his straining prick jump wildly in the sliding fingers of her other hand.
"Let me finger-fuck you," he begged in a coarse voice.
"No." She didn't know why she refused to let him satisfy her, or why she was so intent on making him come in this aloof way. Perhaps she still wanted to get even with Dennis for throwing her out of the house-but she didn't want to commit adultery with the cabby.
His prick was already stiff. She rubbed the underside vigorously, frictioning her thumb relentlessly across the sensitive shaft, drawing back the thin skin covering the shiny pink turnip of his thick, drooling cockhead.
"Have you got a clean hanky?" the driver huffed. "I don't wanna unload all over my uniform." His pupils were dilated with lust, yet he dared not touch her.
She regarded him condescendingly, as though he were some kind of domestic pet for her to amuse herself with. Why was she letting her perversions run away with her? Normal women don't do such things as this.
Letting his pulsating prick fall from her hand, Melissa pulled her dress up to her waist and squirmed her ass against the cool vinyl seat as she removed her panties.
The cabby, under the impression that she'd changed her mind about fucking him, leaned forward to position himself over her. He could smell the pungent sweetness of her hot cunt.
"Get back!" she commanded him.
"Jesus Christ, lady, you're crazy," he said. "Do you want me to screw you or not?"
"No," she said emphatically. She took her nylon panties, which were drenched with her cuntjuice, and slapped the crotch of them over the driver's purple-headed prick. "I don't have a handkerchief, so these will have to do," she informed him, resuming the jacking motion of her hand.
He stared wide-eyed at the damp silky cloth which Melissa held over the glans of his cock. He looked down at her naked blonde snatch; she hadn't even bothered to pull her dress down.
"Goddamn it, I want to fuck you!" he bellowed.
Kneading the thick flesh of his cock, her panties draped like a sagging flag, secured to catch his cream, she ignored his plea, watching his glaring animal eyes as his orgasm approached. His prick started jerking spastically in her hand and she pumped more vigorously.
"Don't you want to come all over my panties?" she teased him in a sultry whisper. "That's my pussyjuice all over the crotch. Don't you want to come on the wet crotch of my panties." She used her left hand to hold the panties in place and simultaneously massage his cock while she dipped her free hand to her naked twat. She swabbed a finger against the slick vulva, then stuck the glistening aromatic digit under his nose.
He stiffened, inhaling her heady sap with a sharp breath, grabbing onto the seat and pushing his back against the door. Thick globs of his hot white cum squirted into the nylon panties, oozing through the thin cloth and running onto Melissa's fingers like lava down the sides of a volcanic mountain. She gripped his spurting prick tightly, a shudder of fear gripping the back of her neck.
My God, I'm going crazy!
her brain screamed. What am I doing? I've lost my mind!
A
vacant horror in her eyes, she used her panties to wipe up all the sticky jism from the softening prick in her hand.
The driver tucked his cock into his pants, zipping up with haste, and went back to the front seat. "Paid in full," he sang, turning off the meter.
As the cab pulled onto the street again, Melissa rolled her window down a notch and discarded her soiled panties. It occurred to her momentarily that they were on a clean, suburban, residential street, and she wondered if children would find the anonymous evidence of her sin the following morning. Dennis is right, she thought, I'm just a whoring slut.
CHAPTER FIVE
GREG PATTINSON LED THE SLIM REDHEAD into his dimly lit living room. Her name was Judy-she'd told him her last name but he'd forgotten it. He liked the way she moved, her saucy asscheeks working up and down like slow-moving pistons, shapely hips tossing from side to side as she walked into the room. She was a front-office receptionist with the company he worked for.
Tall, square-shouldered, his craggy features set off by a thick blond mustache, twenty-five-year-old Pattinson was one of the sharpest salesmen in the computer industry. He credited his success to his exceptional treatment of his sophisticated clients-most of them large corporation execs. It was Greg's job to wine them and dine them and fix them up with the lustiest, most nubile call girls at the wildest parties and orgies-and he sold a lot of computers in the process.
This afternoon he'd sold Judy on the idea of having dinner with him, and at the restaurant, he'd sold her on the idea of coming to his pad for a drink.
Judy had the hots for him. She wasn't used to such lavish attention from successful, handsome young men, and her gratitude bubbled up between her sumptuous ripe thighs. She was in her early thirties; a wiry, small-breasted woman, not the type that men fought over, but she had her own kind of charm.
Judy was a divorcee of some years, which was one of the things that had attracted Greg to her. He was partial to older women-especially if they were divorcees. He had discovered, at a young age, that women in their thirties and forties put young girls to shame when it came to sexual passion. Older chicks never gasped in astonishment when he asked to have his prick sucked. They went to it like pros. They didn't blush when he pulled out his eight inches. They licked their chops.
He guided Judy to the couch.
She was wearing a low-cut blouse and a short black skirt. Her lithe, athletically trim legs were enmeshed in black stockings, the tops of which almost reached to the leg bands of her silky black scanties-which Greg had been seeing flashes of all evening.
"Judy, you're gorgeous, did I tell you that?" he said in a suave voice, sitting down beside her and placing his arm around her shoulder. He had evolved a near-foolproof method: He would always start out romantic, then, by degrees, get slowly more candid and blunt until he could say or do anything.
"Yes, you told me that three or four times," she said, "and you know what they say about flattery."
He kissed her cheek lightly, then rained light kisses and licks around her neck and throat, until she took his face in her hands and tilted him to her hot sucking mouth. She nibbled at the thick muscle of his tongue, sucking it back to her throat, then pushing her own tongue into his mouth, lewdly undulating it.
"God, you turn me on, Judy," he whispered into her ear, now lifting his hand to gently cup her small breast.
"You turn me on, too," she breathed, squirming against his brawny torso to emphasize her statement.
He squeezed her tit, which was confined in a tight bra, then lowered his hand to her stockinged leg, creeping his fingers like a tarantula to the soft meat of her bare inner thigh. He probed her silk-covered pussy, and she writhed in delight.
"Oh, Greg, you know what I want, don't you?" she cooed. Her spindly fingers came to rest on the throbbing bulge in his trousers.
"I know what you're going to get," he answered her.
The front doorbell chimed.
Greg leaned away from Judy with an exasperated groan. "Who the hell could that be?" he snapped.
Judy kissed his cheek. "Get rid of them fast," she said.
The bell rang again.
"You better believe I will, doll," he assured her. He stood up, straightened the collar of his shirt, and maneuvered his stiff prick to a standing position beneath his trousers so he could walk without looking like he was carrying a concealed weapon. He strode across the room.
He opened the door and a look of genuine surprise lit his face. "Melissa! What the.... "His eyes fell to the bulky suitcase that was sitting beside her. "Is something wrong, Melissa?"
"I need a place to stay," she said in a tiny voice. "Dennis threw me out of the house." She looked at her brother's face beseechingly.
Greg was speechless. It was rare enough for Melissa to pay an unannounced visit, but the fact that she was asking him to take care of her threw him for a loop. After a moment's pause, his shoulders dropped in resignation. Then he leaned out the doorway and grabbed her bag. "This is unbelievable," he stammered. "Come in, you can't stay huddled on my doorstep all night." He ushered her quickly into the house. "You can stay here, sure... I never even knew you and Dennis were having problems."
Melissa stopped short in the foyer when she caught sight of Judy. The redheaded girl looked suggestively disheveled, her skirt hiked above her stocking tops.
"This is Judy," Greg introduced her. "And this is my baby sister, Melissa."
The two women didn't so much as nod to one another.
"I'm sorry," Melissa blurted to her brother. "I didn't know I'd be imposing on you like this." She'd never considered that her brother might have company. To her knowledge, Greg was a confirmed bachelor and she assumed Judy was a one-night stand.
For some unknown reason, Melissa hated Judy instantly.
"It's okay, Melissa," Greg said softly. He could see that she was uneasy, and the last thing he needed from her then was a time-consuming emotional outburst. "Come on, I'll show you to the guest room."
He led her down a dark, softly carpeted hallway, coming to a halt at an open doorway. Entering the room, he flicked on the light, setting Melissa's suitcase on its side on a chair.
"I'll bring you some liquor if you want," Greg said, "but we'll have to wait until tomorrow to talk. You understand, don't you?"
"Oh, Greg, this is so good of you. Don't go to any trouble. I'm sorry to be such a bother. I don't need a drink. I'm just going right to bed."
"All right," he nodded. "If you change your mind, you can use the liquor cabinet in the den to your heart's desire." He kissed her cheek. "Good night."
She put her arms around him, meaning to give him a sisterly hug, but she suddenly realized how weak she was, and how strong and comforting Greg felt. In a flash, she knew she wanted to hold him tighter, and that she wanted him to caress her.... and kiss her. God save me! her mind cried. I can't be thinking this way about my own brother!
She quickly let him go, stepping back, unable to look him in the eye. "Good night," she said.
He turned on his heel, leaving her alone in the room.
She fell across the bed and started crying, writhing in tormented self-loathing. What had become of her? Her cunt was wet from her encounter with the cab driver minutes earlier, her clit throbbing, a continual center of obsessive, demoralizing need. When would it ever stop?
How could she think of sex at a time like this? Her husband had just thrown her out of the house, but all she could concentrate on was her pulsing cunt. Even her own brother elicited forbidden desires!
She remembered Greg's offer of liquor and suddenly wished she'd taken him up on it. But he had said she could raid the supply in the den. She pulled herself up on the bed and caught her sorry reflection in the vanity mirror across the room. She was a brazen tramp, her wet twat unashamedly naked like a small ravenous animal peeking at her from beneath the raised hem of her dress.
The thought of her semen-drenched, discarded panties filled her with revulsion. She got up and went to the door, trying to recall where the den was located. She hadn't been in her brother's house but a few times, and not in many months. Dennis and Greg had never gotten along well and she hadn't seen a great deal of her brother since her marriage. Dennis had always claimed the problem was a basic personality clash, but Melissa suspected the real reason was that Dennis resented Greg's playboy style of life. Greg had a big reputation as a "mover"-that, in combination with his financial success, made Dennis envious.
Melissa opened the door and looked down the hallway. The living room was dark now. She wondered if her brother had gone out with the woman she'd seen earlier, or if they had gone to bed. A light was shining from a partially open door at the other end of the hall, and Melissa walked quietly toward it. A few feet from it, she heard low voices, realizing it wasn't the den but Greg's bedroom.
She was just about to turn around and go the other way when she was caught up short by a woman's voice issuing clearly from the room:
"You've really got a beautiful prick, Greg."
"Do you want to suck on it?" came his reply.
Prodded by some demonic inner force, Melissa found herself drawing silently closer to the room. A second later, through the ten-inch crack of the open door, the bed came into view-and the two nude figures reclining there. Melissa knew she couldn't be seen in the pitch blackness of the hallway, and she barely dared to breathe for fear of being discovered.
Greg was on his back, propped up on several pillows, his legs splayed wide and bent at the knees, his long, meaty prick staunchly extended against his belly.
Judy was sitting on the bed facing him, so that his easily accessible cock was directly in front of her. "You know, I'd like to rim you," she said in a naughty, husky whisper.
Melissa had never heard the term rim used in a sexual connotation, and she leaned forward to see what the woman was referring to.
"You're a bawdy wench, aren't you?" Greg laughed. He cupped a hand around his hairy pink scrotum, lifting the baggy sac up against the base of his cock, exposing the hair-fringed, puckered anus. "At your service, madam."
Bending her face to the displayed asshole, her neck craned like a stork about to nibble up a choice minnow, Judy started to lick at the pink whorl of flesh.
Greg's prick came to life, jumping on his taut abdomen like a spastic baton beating a drum.
Judy inserted the tip of her tongue into the contracting orifice, plunging it to the hilt, her wide-open mouth suctioned tightly around the anus, her nose pressed into the loose scrotal skin between his large egg-shaped nuts.
Melissa stared in awed silence at this spectacle. She'd never witnessed anything so debauched in her life. She tried to imagine if she could perform such a feat as fucking an asshole with her own tongue, and a shiver ran through her when she considered what it would feel like to have it done to her.
"I'm going to come," Greg gasped.
Judy instantly deserted her hind post, before the inevitable spasms of his groin began.
"Do you want me to suck your cock?" she rasped lewdly. "Do you want me to drink it?"
He scooted away from her, his teeth bared in a wide grin of lecherous intent. "No," he said, shaking his head. "I'm going to fuck you, Judy."
"Ooooh, good." She threw herself down beside him and spread her legs, her hands going to cup her pussy affectionately. "I'm just burning up for you. Stick it in fast!"
Melissa could see that the woman's cunt was oozing with musky sap-just like her own cunt. Reaching a hesitant finger down to her bare snatch, Melissa could feel the warm oily juices which drenched her wispy pubes and had even started drooling down her legs. I wish it was me he was going to fuck, she thought. I'm prettier than she is. Why does he have to be my brother? I want him to fuck me so bad...
Greg looked at Judy's gaping raw pussy. Judy was rubbing her fingers over her upper vulva, stimulating herself to a state of near frenzy.
"Fuck me!" she squealed. "Fuck me till I can't even walk any more! Shove your prick in me, Greg! Make me go crazy!"
He took hold of her wrist, wrenching her hand from her quivering pussy. "I don't want to fuck your cunt," he told her. "I want to screw your little asshole. I'm going to stuff my prick up your ass like you just did to me with your tongue." He reached to the dresser adjacent to the bed and came up with a jar of Vaseline. "I'll make it easy on you," he declared.
Judy, apparently not adverse to this suggestion, watched, mesmerized, as he spread a small dollop of the clear jelly over his prick until it glistened like a greased drumstick. There was a small pearl of lubricant at the opening of his cock. Judy darted forward to lap the precious gem up into her mouth.
"Now, no," he scolded lightly, "no cocksucking allowed." He knelt up, clutching his rod like a dagger. "Turn over," he commanded.
Judy did as he asked, burying her face into a pillow, the white smooth globes of her buttocks lifted high in the air, her legs braced apart enough to make her small, tight anus visible above her open juicy cunt. Aside from her eagerness to please Greg, she got a kick out of being dominated sexually, and his ribald attitude had an intoxicating effect upon her. She quickly acquiesced to his every demand.
Greg climbed behind her and stuck the purple-red head of his prick at the aperture. With the aid of the Vaseline, he slid easily into the opening, giving Melissa the suspicion that Judy had been fucked in this bizarre way before. Judy's anus looked like a wrinkled, toothless mouth swallowing down an oversized hotdog.
Melissa nearly cried aloud when she saw the length of Greg's shaft disappear into the enveloping asshole. She'd never seen anything like it-except once in a zoo, when a dominant male ape had forced himself upon a female chimpanzee in such a way. But even the ape had not penetrated his mate's asshole, Melissa was sure. She had heard talk of anal sex, but she'd formerly dismissed the idea as some sort of dirty joke. She had no idea it was a common practice, but judging from the way Judy wiggled her ass at the stabbing intruder, she figured it must not be all bad. She wondered if Dennis had ever wanted to fuck her that way.
Judy grunted with each thrust as Greg rammed her bowels like a buck, her entire body rocking back and forth beneath the attack. "Oh, fuck it, fuck it, fuck," she sing-songed in an eerie drone. She reached below her belly to fondle her own clit, rotating her buttocks rhythmically in time With his strokes.
He plowed into her with fury, her sphincter a tight band around his prick, sucking him with accelerating violence into its oily depths, his frantic balls slapping up against her warm wet cunt with each stroke.
He twisted his hand down to finger her cunt and Judy relinquished her own rights to her inflamed vulva, letting him take over. He pierced her second hole with his middle finger up to the second knuckle, detecting the soft slick membranes as they rippled below his touch.
Melissa could hear the slurping sex sounds of the two connected bodies, the smacking noise of belly to butt, the muffled gurgle arising from Judy's pussy as Greg pumped his finger like a little prick inside the marshy membranes. She wondered what Greg would think if he knew his sister was but a dozen feet away witnessing his shameless act of sodomy-and what if he could see that his sister was masturbating as she watched? A thin drizzle of her vaginal juices had already dampened her trembling inner thighs. She wished she would have put on her new panties to soak up her sap.
Greg pounded away, oblivious to all but the climactic tension building up in his balls, the tight asshole that was straining, sucking, swallowing his bloated prick, the hot greasy cunt in his hand that was quaking uncontrollably.
Judy was gyrating her ass back and forth now to increase the power of Greg's thrusts. Groaning and wheezing like a spirited mare, her body was slick with sweat and the entire room was permeated with the perfume of her cunt.
"Faster!" she wailed like a banshee. "Harder.... harder!"
He was giving her his all, like a machine that ran rampant, bent on one task, to spend its thick globs of fuel, splash it out from the depths of his delirious being, to fuck and fuck and fuck again.
His legs locked suddenly, his cock buried to the root. He caught his breath in a rasping inhalation and a tremendous spasm shook his body. Again and again his entire torso jerked with his ejaculations until he finally fell on top of Judy, all strength depleted, his finally victorious prick deflating in the caressing tunnel of her exploited asshole.
Judy squirmed her rump around beneath him. "I didn't come yet, Greg," she bleated like a forlorn lamb. "My cunt is aching, I can't stand it."
He rolled off her, his soft dick sliding with a subdued popping noise from her anus. He eyed his dirty cock with a sullen distaste. Judy was lying, he was sure of it. He knew by the way her little cunny had shook and spasmed around his finger that she'd got it off, but he didn't say anything. Some chicks weren't satisfied until they'd come two, maybe three or four times.
"Turn over," he addressed her bluntly.'
She did so immediately, her zealous eyes inflamed with lust. "You've got to fuck me," she repeated. "Fuck my pussy."
Greg went up on an elbow, nodding toward his limp cock. "You'll have to clean me off first," he said.
She peered down at his shit-smeared tool in dismay. "Oh, I really messed you up, didn't I?" She made a move to climb off the bed.
"Where are you going?" he asked, stopping her.
She turned to him, confused. "To the bathroom to get a washrag..."
"No. I want you to clean me the natural way. With your raunchy little mouth."
Judy sat stock still on the bed, her naked flesh aglow from their recent workout.
Melissa watched them, aghast. She couldn't believe her own brother could be so warped-maybe sex perversions ran in the family. She was sure Judy was going to refuse to do what her brother asked. And yet there, before her eyes, she saw the other girl slowly crawl back onto the bed and slither on her stomach toward Greg's unwashed prick.
Judy sniffed at the rod like a curious dog, then began to lap at the discolored shaft, licking up her own shit. Far from being repulsed, the degrading act seemed to further incite her passion, and low, guttural moans began to issue from her throat.
They're like animals,
Melissa thought. She wanted to turn away and forget everything she'd seen; she felt as if watching them created a bond between her and them, made her a secret conspirator in their depravity. But her eyes riveted to the grotesque sight, and her fingers, which had frozen motionless at her throbbing clit, itched to relieve the longing of her heated cunt.
Judy had licked every trace of her shit from Greg's limp cock and it was now shining healthily. She drew it into her mouth, her cheeks alternately pocking and bulging as she sucked on the polished organ.
Melissa forgot her shock, her desires rising up again, her fingers involuntarily drumming against her titillated sex-nub. She was driving herself crazy. Every time her orgasm approached, she would rip her hands away from her agonized pussy because she was afraid of losing control, afraid that she would faint or accidentally cry out if she let her climax overpower her in so vulnerable a situation. She was already so weak she could hardly stand up.
She rolled her thumbs deftly over the hardened nub of her clit, unable to stop tormenting herself. She could almost taste Greg's soft prick in her own mouth when she stared at Judy's bobbing head.
"Lick my balls, too," Greg requested.
Judy allowed his dangling cock to slip from her lips, nuzzling her face down into the heat of his sweaty groin, lapping her tongue over his wrinkled scrotum. She spread a thin layer of saliva over his entire sac, lifting his balls carefully in her cupped hand to press her lips to the bag of skin.
She nibbled softly at the flesh beneath, fluttering her tongue in the hollows of his thighs, then returning to his cock to brush her tongue in long, abrasive circles up the sensitive underside.
After a bit of this renewed oral attention, Greg's dick jerked slightly and the shaft began to engorge. Pleased with the results of her work, Judy mouthed the rod more passionately, feeling it swell to full tumescence beneath her diligent tongue.
She sucked the fatty head into her mouth, making soft smacking sounds with the velvety suction, crooning hedonistically as if she were engaged in personal communication with the throbbing pole.
"Oh, yes," she moaned breathlessly, the stiff cock garbling her words. "You're going to fuck me!" She lifted her head to speak more distinctly to Greg. "You'd better fuck me so good I'll have to be carried out on a stretcher when you're done with me." She slid up onto the bed so she could stretch out on her back, her obscenely splayed legs beckoning him.
"Never underestimate a man with a raging hard-on," he quipped, sitting up to examine her cunt. "You say things like that to me, you might just get what you're asking for."
"Yummy," she grinned, hooking her index fingers around the folds of her labia to make sure he got a magnetic view of what she had in store for him. She looked wet enough to swim in, her entire cunt smeared with salty lubricant. A whitish string of semen was visible at the cleft of her buttocks, evidence of her ravaged asshole.
He didn't bother with the Vaseline for this. Scrambling between her welcoming thighs, he let his prick zoom in for the killing. The first quick jab was a miss, and her fingers sought to steer him back on base, angling her pussy at him to assist his efforts.
He let his hips sink slowly this time, plugging into her, until their matted patches of pubic hair were meshed and his cock was completely contained in her hot tunnel.
Melissa slid two fingers as deep as she could up her own cunt. I want to be fucked, I want to be fucked! her thoughts swirled mindlessly. I want my own brother to shove his huge cock into my cunt right now!
Greg pumped slowly, but Judy didn't seem to notice, her own torso writhing insanely beneath him. He increased his tempo to keep up with her, charging into her with a verve equal to the occasion.
Judy started to come, letting loose with a long broken wail of animal excitement, all her muscles jerking, her arms and legs clasping and releasing him in such a spastic way she appeared to be drumming on him with all her limbs in slow motion. Her long fingernails grazed his sinewy flesh, clawing sharply into his still-banging buttocks.
Then Greg's body tensed along with hers and he shot a second round of his thick cum into her squeezing vagina, flooding her with more sperm than he knew he had in him.
Their bodies wound down, flopping, locked in a sprawling embrace, their combined gasps for breath sounding like a single creature sucking at the air in a state of near-exhaustion.
Melissa envied them, her own cunt still unsatisfied and burning. She didn't know if Greg and Judy would attempt any more acrobatics but she couldn't wait around to find out. She had to have an orgasm before she died of lust.
She tiptoed quickly and silently back down the hall to her room. She locked herself in, dropping down onto the bed and immediately going to work on her furious little clitoris with her nimble fingertips. Within seconds, she felt the warm inundating waves of orgasm flushing through her, rolling like a sweet summer breeze across the frazzled ends of her nerves, sedating her with merciful relief.
She lay breathing heavily for a long time afterwards, too tired to ask herself any more questions. She couldn't worry about Dennis or her Lesbian encounter with Lorna or the pictures Andon had taken or anything else. It seemed she had lost herself in an enormous labyrinth of confusion, where each path led to yet another mistake.
But for the time being she didn't care. She just listened to the soothing quiet of her own breath and let herself float off in a cloud of sleep, without even climbing between the sheets, or taking off her dress. She dozed off with her legs spread wide, one hand still resting over her sopping pussy.
CHAPTER SIX
DENNIS JUMPED IN HIS CHAIR AT THE sound of the doorbell, nearly overturning the bottle of vermouth on the end table. He was half-soused, feeling sorry for himself over his problems. He rose to his feet unsteadily, wondering if it was Melissa at the door.
He was beginning to regret losing his temper at her; surely, there were better ways of coping with the injustice she'd committed than ordering her out of the house. He hadn't really thought she'd leave. In an objective sense, her crime was of little significance-she'd seemed so guilt-ridden and contrite for such a small infraction of fidelity to him. But then again, Melissa had always been overly prudish where sexual matters were concerned, sometimes extremely so.
He pulled the front door ajar and found himself staring down into the sultry black eyes of a foxy chick in a short skirt that was hiked up over her thighs. His gaze fell to her sheer blouse, which was carelessly unbuttoned almost to her navel, giving him a sumptuous eyeful of two of the finest tits he'd ever seen.
"Dennis Edwards, I presume?" the girl purred.
He started at the sound of his name. "Yes. Do I know you from somewhere?"
She pursed her lips at him coyly. "Maybe. But I've come to speak to your wife, if you don't mind."
"Uh, come in," he said awkwardly, pulling the door open wide. "Melissa isn't home right now."
The girl gave him a droll smile but accepted his offer to come into the house. Dennis watched her plump ass twitch as she strutted past him.
"You know Melissa?" he asked, wondering how it was that he'd never seen the girl before.
She nodded, sweeping a strand of dark hair from her face. "I just met her a few days ago, as a matter of fact."
"Not at the university art class?" Dennis ventured.
The girl giggled, a husky, honey-sweet laugh. "In a manner of speaking, yes."
Dennis grimaced, yet the way this chick was making eyes at him, his thoughts for Melissa diminished.
"I'm Lorna, by the way," she said. She turned her back to him and traipsed into the living room, making herself at home on the couch. Well aware that she had his rapt attention, she planted her lithe, curvaceous legs apart to invite his hungry stare.
He saw at once that she wasn't even wearing panties, the dark slit of her cunt glinting at him from the shadowy cover of her skirt. He could hardly believe the message she was signaling to him. Did she really expect him to walk over and fuck her, just like that? He wouldn't have objected if that were the case, but he figured there had to be a catch somewhere. Beautiful women didn't ordinarily walk into his life and spread their legs for him at a moment's notice.
"I thought you didn't know about Melissa modeling for the art class," Lorna said.
He crossed the room to sit in an easy chair beside the couch. Lorna twisted her body toward him, and the angle afforded him an excellent perspective of her left breast. He looked up to see she'd been watching him watch her. She smiled, approving.
"What?" He hadn't been listening to her, preoccupied with other, more enticing thoughts. "Do you always dress like that when you visit strangers?" he asked. He hadn't intended to be so blunt, but the liquor robbed him of diplomacy.
She squirmed around on the couch, though not in a way to distract him from her charms; if anything, her movements were calculated to raise the already climbing temperature of his blood. "Dress like what?" she asked innocently, at the same time drawing up her foot to cross her legs, giving him a spectacular momentary view of her scarlet gash. "Does it bother you?"
He looked at her sharply. "No. Does getting raped bother you?"
She threw back her head and laughed, this time mockingly. Then she leveled her gaze at him. "You're cute," she said. "Your wife gave me the impression you were some uptight old puritan."
"She did?" Dennis heard his voice rise in anger. "What else did she tell you?"
"Oh, she didn't have to tell me anything. I've got my own theory about men who are scared of their wives being sexy-they're really afraid of their own inadequacy as a stud."
Dennis leaned forward in his chair. "Is that so?"
She spilled out that laugh again, her big breasts threatening to burst out of her blouse.
"Well, I don't want to detain you," she said lightly, standing up, "so since Melissa's not around, I'll just be on my-"
He was on his feet before she could take a step. "You're not going anywhere until you apologize for that remark you just made."
She turned to him insolently. "Oh, I've offended the little man," she drawled. "Oh, I'm soooo sorry."
Dennis grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and twisted her down on the couch.
"Ow! You're hurting me!" she cried out in surprise. "Get off me, you lout!"
He was pushing his weight upon her, pinning her down on the sofa. He didn't mean to hit her. He didn't even think about it. His hand just came up and swung hard at her face.
Her head snapped to the side at the force of the blow and she emitted a strangled shriek. When she turned her face back to him there was a trickle of blood running down the corner of her mouth. Her eyes blazed fire, a wild, feline stare that evoked a raging lust in his loins.
"You're cruel," she rasped, but her voice betrayed a yearning beyond anger. "If you think you can tame me, prove it!"
If that was the way she wanted it, that was the way he was going to give it to her. He seized her wrists, hoisting her arms above her head to render her helpless, pushing her back, trapping her against the couch. He heaved a strong leg over both of hers to discourage any idea she might have of kicking out at him. She wrestled in his grip, succeeding in baring one ample breast, the nipple pink and hard as a rosebud, attesting to her arousal.
He flattened himself against her, thrusting a determined shoulder into her soft abdomen as she tried, futilely, to roll away from him. He moved his face down to mouth the ripe breast but she anticipated him with her own lips, swiftly bringing her face up to his.
He fixed his mouth to hers, incensed by the way her tongue lashed out in lurid encouragement. She wasn't fighting him-the crazy bitch liked it this way! His cock, until now less active than his intentions required, stirred to life.
"Let go of my hands," she whimpered, sending hot sparks down his spine when her tongue wormed into his ear. He wanted to release her arms, to free his own hands to travel over more delectable regions of her anatomy.
As soon as he'd given her freedom, she slid her hand down to reach for his fly. He inched off a little to give her space; her cool fingers worked quickly, nimbly, and in an instant she had her hand around his dick, squeezing and jacking the hardening rod.
He kissed her again, more ardently, matching her fiery tongue with his own, sucking at the soft pulp of her lips, biting the tender flesh in love battle. Her fingers slid down his belly, fondling his cock, twining into his pubes, cupping the hairy sac of his balls. He felt the hot ache in his prick grow more and more furious.
He lore at her blouse, ripping open the remaining few buttons and tearing the garment away from her chest. Her big, youthful breasts sprung up as he burrowed his face into the rolling balloons of flesh. He sucked a rubbery nipple deep into his mouth, drawing on it hard, as if expecting sweet milk to flow from the spongy spout. She hissed erotic frenzy, pistoning her hand faster around his cock, pivoting her body to crush her tits into his face.
He pulled back from her, digging his fingers into the waistband of her skirt.
"I'll take this off," she assured him. "Why don't you get undressed, too."
He didn't debate the matter. He stood up, rapidly divesting himself of shoes and shirt. She'd already done the work of loosening his slacks, and he chucked them, with his undershorts, to the floor, all the time with his eyes fastened to her.
She gracefully slid down the zipper of her skirt, standing to let it drop away from her promising curves. Though excited herself, she seemed to delight in making him wait, in making a slow, tantalizing production of stripping for him. Not that there was much of her he hadn't already seen, but her attitude enthused him, made him feel as though he were getting a fuller treat of her than if she had quickly tossed her clothes aside and flung herself on the couch.
Though she wore no panties, she turned her back to him as she peeled down her hose and garters, allowing him to gaze admiringly at the plush white moons of her jiggling ass. He came up behind her and squeezed both asscheeks as though testing for ripeness.
She backed her rump into him, grinding it against his upright cock. He was seized with a desire to take her just like that, right up the ass. It occurred to him that she was actually daring him to do it. The idea appealed so much that his cock throbbed to a new degree of rigidity, but before he could apply it to the aperture hidden between her creamy cheeks, she wheeled around, her arms flying to his neck.
He slipped his hands down her body, over the convexity of her hips and around to curl under her lush, firmly packed buttocks.
She nestled her face into his shoulder, her breath deflecting moistly against his neck. "Do you know what I want you to do for me?" she breathed.
He waited, still massaging the resilient flesh of her asscheeks, flexing his pelvis against hers in a sort of slow, stationary waltz.
"I want you to eat out my pussy," she said.
Just the words made his skin crawl with a delicious longing. He pushed the flat of his hand around to her belly, running across the teardrop of her navel and down to the woolly bush at the base of her legs. She lifted up a hip to serve her pelvis to him and he slipped an exploratory finger into the damp marsh of her cunt. The tissues seemed to lap at his lingers like languid tongues.
He swept her up and laid her on the couch, with the intention of kneeling between her luscious creamy thighs, but she swiveled around and tugged at his arm, trying to get him to climb upon the narrow sofa ledge with her. At first he was perplexed, then he saw what she wanted.
Immediately, he turned around, mounting the couch with his face to her aromatic pussy, his cock pointing like a thick flesh arrow at her bursting pink lips. His heart raced at the thought; it had been a long time since a woman had wanted to do a 69 with him, and he wasn't about to pass up the chance. He slid across the couch until his crotch was level with her face.
She swung one of her legs over his neck, locking him against the fragrant mass of her snatch, and he felt her hot breath, gusty and humid against his bursting prick. He readily obliged her, parting the slippery cuntlips with his fingers, one hand reaching below to cup up her saucy asscheeks.
Lorna's breathing heightened as the marauding masculine fingers explored her labia and prepared her oozing cunt for greater delights. The imposing, pulsating cock that bulged before her eyes both repulsed and fascinated her. She took the streamlined penis in her hands, rubbing her palms against the veiny column.
The bulgy, purplish mushroom of his cockhead jerked toward her lips. She feathered her tonguetip against the bulbous corona, enjoying the way the tortured prick throbbed in response.
Dennis was intoxicated by the very smell of her cunt wedged against his nostrils. Her divided thighs clamped tighter around his neck, affording him no room to move back for a closer inspection of the pink petals of flesh. She began to gyrate her wet cunt against his mouth and chin, gratifying herself with or without his cooperation. He wished she'd take his cock into her mouth and suck on it. The excruciating suspense was nearly unbearable.
Lorna was taking her time. She knew once Dennis had relieved the fury of his own lust, he would not try so hard to satisfy her. She wanted to prolong the exquisite sex-pain, to bring them both to the utmost desire. For an instant she flashed on Melissa, imagining the shock the girl would get if she happened to walk in on them now, seeing her precious husband with his cock jammed down another woman's throat, his face buried in the slimy, hot hole of her pussy. The idea suffused her with excitement; she wanted Melissa to see it, to throw Melissa's haughty superiority back in her face.
Lorna whipped her tongue down the flaming stem of the forbidden cock. She tasted the length of the twitching pole with the tickling tip of her tongue, flicking the wet tormentor up and down the vulnerable seam until Dennis could take no more.
"Suck it!" he growled down at her, his face shiny and dripping with her lubricant. He stabbed his pelvis at her face to get his point across.
"You've got to eat me, too," she reminded him. "My clit is just begging to be licked and sucked."
He felt her tongue lashing at his cock again, and he resumed his rooting in the pouched, simmering pink seashell between her legs. He tongued her rosy crevice until she was whimpering and twisting beneath him, then stuck his tongue deep into her tight orifice and sucked at the salty-sweet musk that flowed like syrup into his mouth.
Parting her lips in a wide oval, Lorna engulfed the straining cock with her mouth, taking the tumid root into her cavern an inch at a time. Her rotating tongue lashed in circular motions around the shaft as she swallowed him up, the edges of her teeth lightly scraping the skin as he sank further and further into the slippery oral tunnel.
Dennis started fucking his prick into her mouth, at the same time lapping and waggling his tongue into her mushy depths. He pulled his tongue from her hole and nudged his face downward, experimentally snaking into the dank cleavage between her soft asscheeks.
When his tongue darted over her puckery anus, she wriggled furiously, sucking with renewed fervor on his cock. She made slobbery, wet sounds as his cock surged up against the roof of her mouth. Her cunt was quaking and trying to vacuum in the lively worm of his tongue. When he butted against her pulsating clitoris, Lorna's body recoiled in spastic tremors, all the while gripping his cock avidly between her lips, darting her head up and down, sucking and breathing in animal snorts.
Dennis felt a geyser bolting up his dick, seething out in a hot spray of white lava. Her cunt was quaking, convulsing in waves of orgasmic pleasure around his tongue, and her mouth was synchronized, doing the same thing around his spurting cock. His torso shook and his cock discharged again and again, loading cum into her ravenous throat until his balls were drained.
"Ooooh," Lorna breathed at last, swallowing down the last drops of his fluid and letting the limp organ slide from her raw lips. "Your wife was wrong about you."
Dennis pushed away from her, regarding her with a mixture of contempt and disbelief. The mention of Melissa irritated him, but not because he felt guilty over the act he'd just performed. In a way, he gloated over it; it was a way of settling the score.
He donned his clothes while Lorna lay glistening with sweat, her eyes glazed.
"Why don't you get dressed and get out of here," he told her dully, no longer able to tolerate her presence.
She swung her long shapely legs over the side of the couch, looking wounded. "Well, at least you could tell me when Melissa will be in," she retorted.
"She won't be in," he smiled sardonically. "She's taking a little vacation at her brother's house."
Lorna stood up, her big boobs bouncing. "Can you give me her brother's address, then?"
He cocked his head at her. Why not? Maybe Lorna would fink on him-and tell Melissa what had happened. He had to smile.
"I'll write it down for you," he said, bending down to get a pen and scrap of paper from his shirt pocket. It would serve Melissa right.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE NERVE-JANGLING TRILL OF THE phone brought Melissa trotting down the hall. Greg was at work. Assuming the call was for him, she picked up the receiver, searching the top of the desk for a pencil to take a message.
The voice on the other end of the line interrupted her search abruptly. "Hello," the caller said. "Is Melissa Edwards there?"
"This is she," Melissa replied, puzzled. The voice was definitely not Dennis', but who else knew where she was staying?
"When you didn't show up Wednesday, I thought you might have forgotten our appointment," the smooth voice said.
Wednesday? Her heart began to pound and the phone became cold in her clammy hand. "How did you get my number?"
Andon laughed, a sinister sound, like gravel shaking in a bag. "Lorna provided it for me, but that doesn't matter. You and I have some details to discuss, my dear."
"I don't have anything to discuss with you!" Melissa exploded. "I don't want to see you again, ever."
"Well, maybe your husband would like to see some pictures I've got," Andon intoned. "He might be interested in seeing who's been sucking that cute little cunt of yours lately."
"You.... you bastard!" She glanced around the room fearfully, although she knew she was alone in the house. "You wouldn't dare show Dennis those pictures!"
"And what's preventing me?" he returned in a snide tone.
She bit her lower lip, knowing her already precarious relationship with her husband could be completely toppled by Andon's treachery. She still cherished the hope that Dennis would forgive her for modeling for the art class; that their separation was just a temporary thing. But Andon might now know just how powerful his threat actually was. She tested him, saying, "I'd tell Dennis you tricked me into posing."
"Tricked you into turning into a dirty little queer?" Andon's laugh was ugly. "What are you going to tell him-that I'm some kind of hypnotist? Besides, everybody knows that even a hypnotist can't make somebody do something they don't want to do. And the look on your face in these photos proves without a doubt that you enjoyed every minute of it."
Melissa swallowed hard. She'd never dreamed Andon would consider showing the pictures to Dennis. It was bad enough that he even had the right to sell them, even if her husband never found out! She reddened, remembering the licentious poses she'd struck-even before the terrible sequence with Lorna! How could she explain to Dennis? What excuse could she offer for the shameless way she'd held out her tits and spread her legs wide for a strange man? The thought of the travesty she'd committed sent a burning shiver through her loins.
"What do you want from me?" she muttered, cursing herself for the undeniable pangs of desire the memory had revived in her flesh.
"That depends on how much you're willing to give," he replied coolly. "Why don't you come over to the studio this afternoon? If you're nice to me, I might be nice to you."
Melissa shuddered. "What do you mean, nice?"
"Oh, I thought maybe you could suck my cock for me. Or would you prefer me to fuck you?"
"Oh my God!" She stared in horror at the telephone, as if their conversation might be heard by someone else, broadcast for the world to know. She prayed Greg didn't have a party line. "You're out of your mind! I could never do that," she said with a bravery she didn't feel. Even as she spoke, some dirty part of her contradicted her words, and she felt her cunt twitch at the possibility of being screwed by John Andon. She was being blackmailed into doing the very thing she had wanted to do, but now she didn't want it.
"Very well," Andon said dryly. "Dennis will be mailed the pictures today and-"
"NO!" she cut him off. "No! Don't send the pictures to my husband. I'll come to your studio! I promise!"
"That's more like it," Andon said in a patronizing tone. "I'll expect you here by two. Good-bye."
Melissa placed the phone receiver in its cradle with shaky hands. She hated Andon and his rotten schemes. But she hated herself even more for the perverse spirit of glee that was once again rearing its ugly head.
* * *
Lorna sauntered across the front room toward Andon, rolling her hips and ass and causing her fun breasts to shimmy like Jell-o. As she moved, her miniskirt rode up to her buttocks, making her thin mesh panties plainly visible to Andon, who was sitting in a low chair watching her approach.
"Oh, John," she cooed, "my poor little pussy is just dying for a big hard dick. You don't know where I might find one, do you? Hmmm?"
His eyes settled on her crotch, fascinated by the way her curly black pubes fringed out around the tight elastic leg bands. "That Edwards chick is supposed to be here any minute," he told her. "You'll just have to hold yourself back until she gets here."
"Why? We can fuck fast, can't we?" She stopped before him with her pelvis tilted forward, legs spread obscenely wide apart. "Anyway, it won't hurt her if she walks in on us-a little voyeurism never did anybody harm."
Andon reached up, sliding his hands over her flared hips and propelling her fragrant cunt toward his mouth. He pushed his face into her cloth-covered muff, inhaling the heady odor of her sex. Her body squirmed in a fluid belly dance at the provocative feel of his mouth nibbling at her crotch.
She ran her palms down across his shoulders and back, arching herself closer to him. When she looked down she could tell by the expanding swell at his groin that he was prepared to take up her offer. "Oh, Johnny, stop," she grunted. "My panties are getting drenched! Let me take them off!"
Andon reluctantly let her go. "Okay, but hurry up."
Lorna smiled down at him with a lewd twist to her lips. She reached behind her back for the zipper of her blouse, canting her braless breasts at him in the process. In a moment she was stretching the garment up over her head.
Though Andon had seen his sister naked a thousand times, he never tired of seeing her captivating nude figure. His eyes trained upon the jiggling, supple globes of her tits, and his cock jerked in his pants at the delectable sight.
Lorna threw her blouse to the floor, the tip of her moist tongue tracing a line across her lips as she displayed her body to her brother. With stealthy, painstakingly slow movements, she unfastened the waistband of her skirt. Andon followed its descent to the floor, then looked back up the long tapered legs to the enticing nakedness of her belly and thighs. The panties she wore were little more than a tiny triangle at her pubic mound, and in short order, they too were flung to the rug.
The blood rushed to engorge his prick as she turned away from him, bending over to retrieve the shed clothing. He watched the contoured mounds of her buttocks bulge out toward him as she reached for her things. The posture, he knew, was intentional; she realized how her fine plump ass could get him hot, and she wanted to make sure he was fully in the mood to satisfy her.
He was. He arose from his seat and stepped behind her, circling his hands down the silken skin of her shoulders, then over her firm strong back, at last gripping the full spheres of her asscheeks.
Lorna stood up straight, pivoting around quickly, swinging her breasts into his chest. Her arms angled up around his neck, her lips pressing playfully against his earlobe. "I want you to fuck me until I'm raw, big brother," she purred, rotating her belly against the cylindrical protuberance of his dick.
Her hands slipped down to tug at the buttons of his shirt. Andon assisted her efforts, easily divesting himself of his shirt, but he allowed her to unbuckle and unzip his trousers. When she'd accomplished this, her fingers stole beneath his shorts to fondle his stiffened rod.
His body tensed and the sweat of sex-anticipation broke out across his brow as her gentle, feathering fingertips circled down to tickle his balls. He hurriedly hauled down his pants and shorts, stepping backward as they gathered in a crumpled heap around his ankles.
As soon as he'd stripped, Lorna rubbed and wiggled her shivering flesh against his with such eagerness she nearly knocked him over backward.
"Shit, Lorna, at least let me take off my shoes!" he rebuffed her.
She laughed as he settled himself down on the floor, his erect cock spearing out at his gut as he reached down to untie his shoes. She fell to her knees beside him, her body quivering lushly.
"Here, let me do that," she said, pushing him aside. She straddled his legs, her pert, rounded ass spanking distance from his hands, bowing over to pull at his shoestrings. She was a healthy young specimen, Andon reflected, and incest or not, he couldn't wait to get into the sultry warm crevice now taunting him below the wispy hairs of her cuntlips.
When she'd yanked his shoes and socks from his feet, she pirouetted around, purposefully brushing her nipples over his rigid prick. The swift touch of her lips as she kissed his cockhead riddled his flesh with goosebumps.
She blinked up at him with smoky eyes, and before he could dissuade her, she had grabbed his cock and gobbled the long organ into her hot dewy mouth, laving it with her tongue.
His cock enlarged to painful hardness at the washing friction of her sucking mouth, and when she let the rod slip out from between her lips as suddenly as she'd slurped it in, he gave a grunt of discomfort. He hiked himself up on his elbows to see her smear his saliva-coated cock across both her nipples, making the pink little buds bloom up in shimmery splendor.
He reached for the swaying mounds of flesh and used them like levers to pull her up to him, and she helped guide them, one at a time, to his lavishing tongue. His cock tingled as her coarse pubes prickled over its sensitive underside, the copious wetness of her cunt mingling with the drops of fluid he felt burning at the tip of his prick.
With expert control, Lorna scooted her cunt around until his prick was aimed at her slushy opening, then she corkscrewed her hips backward, causing him to drill into her welcoming crypt. Her vaginal tissues enfolded his jutting cock like a warm, well-oiled glove, sliding down further and further until she'd taken in the whole of the shaft.
She pumped her butt up and down in a quick cadence, her soft, round belly grinding against his lean, hard one, her tits rolling into his hairy chest. He wrapped his arms around her, taking hold of her lively haunches to pilot her movements to his own liking.
Lorna's breath whistled shrilly as Andon forced her to chafe her slick cunt faster and more vigorously along his pole; she wiggled her ass above him, churning her wet membranes against his cock. Her succulent thighs gripped like a plushy vise at his flanks, her nails digging into his shoulders as though she were clinging for dear life to a bucking bronco.
Andon kept powering into the snug chasm as his nuts began to boil up with a furious charge of semen. He wanted to unload fast, so he'd be in better control of his wits when Melissa showed up. Lorna was jumping up and down on his cock as her body started quaking with urgency.
She came in teetering spasms, the powerful cunt muscles threatening to wrench off his cock at the root. He felt his prick burst with unbearable pain and pleasure at the abrupt vibrating ripples of her inner walls, and his hot cum gushed into her burning cunt.
Their lust-fury unleashed, they lay panting, their bodies covered with sweat and sex secretions. After a moment, Andon pushed at his sister.
"Get up," he commanded her. "I want to go upstairs before Melissa gets here."
"I'll go wash up," Lorna volunteered.
"No," he said, "stay just the way you are. We're going to give Melissa a show she can't resist."
* * *
Melissa pressed a nervous finger against the doorbell of Andon's house. She had never felt so low-nor so hopelessly at someone's mercy-as she did at this moment. For a fleeting instant she entertained the hope that nobody was home, but her joy was smashed when Lorna's husky voice called to her from inside.
"The door's open," came the familiar lilt. "Come on in-we're up in the studio."
Melissa froze as if poised on the edge of a cliff. She knew if she entered the house, she would never forgive herself. But if she didn't-if she turned away now, before she compounded her crimes of disloyalty to her husband-then Dennis would find out about the pictures and her life would be ruined. Either way, she lost. Cursing herself for her lack of courage, she pushed open the hardwood door.
A peal of feminine laughter rang out above her head and Melissa glanced wearily toward the stairwell. Her feet felt like lead as she moved toward the steps. She had made up her mind before leaving Greg's house-she would consent to performing fellatio for Andon. That, and no more. And before she did anything, she'd insist he hand over the negatives and pictures to her.
As her clicking heels moved across the hall to Andon's studio, Melissa realized the room was oddly silent. She expected a snide greeting from Andon and his wanton sister, but she was not prepared for the scene she walked in upon.
In the center of the room, sprawled out on the satin-sheeted bed naked as the day they were born, were Lorna and John Andon-and they were fucking each other as if it were going out of style!
Lorna's sleek legs kicked at the ceiling while Andon's bare, hairy ass hunched up and down in the conventional manner, the two sandwiched bodies slapping together in a wet thud of flesh to flesh.
Melissa gaped at them in awe. As degenerate as she knew the two of them to be, she'd never thought they were this far out. Perhaps they really weren't brother and sister.
As soon as that idea occurred, Melissa blushingly remembered the sight she'd witnessed between her own brother and his girl friend. The possibility of incest wasn't really so far from her fantasies as she wanted to pretend. But a fantasy was one thing, and what Lorna and Andon were doing was quite another. She knew by the rapturous, erotic expression on Lorna's face that this was no act they were putting on for her benefit. She and Dennis didn't even make love as passionately as this.
"Oh, oh, oh, I'm c-coming!" Lorna crooned, flailing her luscious tan legs furiously as Andon humped into her. "Do it harder!"
Melissa wanted to reel away and run back down the stairs before the two of them noticed her presence, but she was rooted to the spot. She could almost feel Lorna's orgasm brimming up in her own body, the tumultuous waves of excitement jolting deep inside her cunt. She crossed her legs tightly together in a futile effort to stem the rising pangs of need within her vulva. Her unconscious strategy produced the opposite effect; sliding her smooth thighs together increased her feelings of lust.
Meanwhile, Lorna was writhing and bleating in ecstatic release, her legs scissoring around the virile male loins that serviced her. Melissa watched in a daze, forgetting that they could see her fully as well as she saw them. Her mind twisted the event into a dreamlike tableau, and without thinking, Melissa slid her hand down to touch the burning portals of her pussy. The dewy droplets of her moisture anointed her fingertips.
Suddenly Lorna lifted her head from the pillow and looked straight at Melissa. "Well, don't just stand there diddling yourself. Come on over and join the fun."
Horrified, Melissa wrenched her hand away from her vagina. She gasped as Andon twisted around to look at her from over his shoulder.
"Glad you could make it," he said, pulling himself up from between Lorna's gorgeous thighs. As he turned around fully, Melissa's eyes fell to the shining red spire at his crotch. "I've already got my rocks off once downstairs before you came," he went on, "so don't worry. I'm saving this load for you."
Melissa clapped a hand over her mouth. Her pulse sped wildly, both with disgust and a betraying libidinous thrill. Half of her wanted to run, the other half wanted to let Andon do what he liked to her-especially if what he liked included a good screwing.
"Aw, she's bashful," Lorna mocked, sitting up in the bed. "Maybe she just wants to stand there and play with her pussy while we watch."
"Please," Melissa begged them, hoping that she could somehow remain rational despite their depraved designs on her. "I'll do what you want, but first you have to give me the negatives of those pictures you took of me."
Andon contemplated her for a moment, then pushed Lorna out of the bed. "Go get the negatives for the lady," he ordered her.
Lorna glared at him skeptically, but left the room, ostensibly to do as he asked.
"Why don't you get undressed while we wait?" he said to Melissa. Her eyes widened as she watched him close his fist around his hard cock, stroking the tool slowly. "If you don't give me something to keep me hot and bothered, I might lose my hard-on. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
Melissa glanced back down the hall, wishing Lorna would hurry up. She hadn't planned to get undressed, and she definitely had vowed not to become involved in any more dissolute activity than was necessary to appease Andon.
"I'll just..." She wanted to say, "suck your cock," but the words stuck in her throat. "I'll just go down on you," she said quickly.
Andon stopped rubbing his prick. "You will, huh? That's charitable of you." He sat staring at her, waiting.
Melissa cast a final glance behind her, still hoping that somehow Lorna's reappearance in the doorway would rescue her. Don't be a fool, the cruelly lucid part of her brain warned, they're not going to just hand over the film and let you turn around and go home. She stepped forward reluctantly, telling herself that she had to do it, denying the desire that flamed up in her as she speculated the delights of sucking John Andon's throbbing, turgid cock.
"Hurry up," he goaded her. "I haven't got all day."
With a sigh of heavy resignation, she quickened her pace to the bedside. Andon sprawled back on the sheet, his prick pointing up at her like a thick worm. She felt like a fish going for the deadly bait. Her eyes flicked to his, then back down to the impatient cock. Swallowing her pride, she knelt down on the edge of the bed.
Andon made no move to assist her. He lay still, as regal and austere as a king being attended by his slave. Melissa wished he would grab her, force her down, make her feel at least as if she weren't responsible for the deed. There was still time to change her mind, but she knew the decision was already made.
Her blonde hair fell forward across her eyes as she bowed down to put her lips to the purplish crown of his cock. An instant before her mouth made contact with the taut skin, she caught scent of another odor-not a male smell, but a scent of cunt. She wrinkled her nose in sudden distaste, realizing she was smelling the lingering perfume of Lorna's juices.
"Go ahead," Andon growled at her. "Lick it like it was a nice piece of licorice."
Melissa shuddered, knowing she couldn't procrastinate forever. She put out her rosy tongue and touched the tip of it to the marble-smooth surface of his skin. It tasted pungent, with a mixture of male and female juices, and though the flavor was not, as he'd remarked, like candy, neither was she repulsed by it. She had half expected to be nauseated by the taste, but discovering it not as bad as she'd feared, she tentatively trailed her tongue down the thick shaft. A trembling not attributable to fright ran deep inside her.
Against her will, the old longings seethed through her and she pressed her lips over the warm, swollen bulb of his cockhead. She began to work her lips and tongue against the pulsing meat, savoring each new fraction of an inch crowding into her sensual mouth. A yip of surprise came from her throat when she felt his fingers pinch sharply at her nipples; even through her clothing, his hands provoked tremors of excitement and she twisted around in vain attempt to ward off the tantalizing stimulus.
The longer she did this, the more her hated libido rebelled, demanding carnal attention. Melissa couldn't stand it. She knew she'd have to make Andon come soon, or she'd be unable to cope with her own desires-and make things even worse for herself than they already were. She was determined not to let her desire win over her conscience. She sucked demonically at the cock in her mouth, her cheeks bloating and concaving as she tried to draw out his sperm.
Andon, no longer able to remain calmly passive, shoved his cock into her lips like an oil-drilling machine, braced for the inevitable geyser about to blow up from his nuts. The expert way she gobbled his dick came as a happy surprise; Andon hadn't expected her to be such a good spurt about his demands. In a way, he'd looked forward to humiliating the little bitch, but it was just as well this way. He made a mental note to tell Lorna to forget about getting the negatives. As long as Melissa was this cooperative, he'd make the most of it for as long as he possibly could.
Melissa reached down to fondle the loose sac of Andon's balls, still sucking feverishly at his straining cock. She wished he'd hurry and spurt his jism into her hungry mouth. Frustrated with his delayed response, she did something she'd never done to a man before-something she'd learned from Lorna. She felt for the crack of his sweaty buttocks, then savagely jabbed her finger into his asshole.
The added jolt was all he needed; Melissa drank deeply at the throbbing fullness of his dick as it pulsed at the walls of her mouth, spewing out a hot series of sticky blobs that oozed down the back of her throat. She swallowed fast to prevent herself from choking, but the spurting seemed to go on and on, with every new squirt of thick semen heightening her own arousal.
She felt the significant dribble of wetness trickle down her legs, fighting to ignore the throbbing craving of her neglected cunt. It was then that she saw the shadowy figure standing a few feet away from the bed. Through lust-glazed eyes, she turned her head to see Lorna advancing upon her with what appeared to be a long, pink rubber dildo.
"Oh, my God!" Melissa shrilled, pulling away from Andon's flaccid cock. "What are you going to do?"
"I got jealous when I saw you two went ahead without me," Lorna whined with exaggerated self-pity. "Anyway, I can tell Johnny-boy is out of commission and your little pussy needs to be fucked so bad I can see your panties getting wetter from over here."
Melissa sat up suddenly, realizing she did have her ass thrust out in a compromising position. She struggled to pull down her skirt. "Look, I've carried out my part of the deal," she said in a more arrogant tone than she really felt. "Where's the negatives?"
John and Lorna exchanged brief glances.
"I couldn't find them," Lorna said in a saccharine chirp. "But I did come across this," she said, holding up the plastic phallus in her hand. "Ever get it off with one of these little things, Melissa?"
Melissa shook her head violently.
"It'll send you into the clouds," Lorna grinned. "Why don't you just take off those panties and lie back-it's better to have another woman use one of these things on you. Or would you rather do it by yourself?"
"You're sick! Really sick!" Melissa shouted at her, recoiling from the bed. She backed toward the door, eyeing them both frantically. "You said you'd give me the negatives!" she accused Andon.
"No, that was your idea," he reminded her. "I just promised not to send the pictures to your husband.... not for a while, anyway."
Not for a while? Melissa stared at both of them in suppressed fury, her cheeks flushed and eyes burning. She wanted to scream. Andon intended to keep her dangling like a puppet on a string, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She was so angry she couldn't speak.
"C'mon, don't have a temper tantrum," Lorna called, clucking her tongue as if scolding a stubborn child. "I get in bad moods when I'm horny, too. Why don't you come back here and let me fix you up?" She waved the obscene pink cock at Melissa, the way someone would attract a dog's attention with a bone.
"I'm not going to let either of you touch me!" Melissa wailed, nearly tripping over her own feet as she spun toward the door and raced down the stairway, tears of rage and humiliation blinding her as she ran. She was going to have to do something to put an end to all this or else she was headed straight for the gutter-or someplace worse! But what could she do? That was the terrible question....
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON-AN OVERCAST day which corresponded to Melissa's cloudy thoughts. She was sitting in the living room of her brother's house, plunked languidly in the big leather easy chair, still wearing the short flimsy nightgown that she'd slipped into when she'd awakened many hours earlier. Her depression was so heavy she couldn't mobilize herself for anything-not even to get decently dressed.
She had her sleek, shapely legs curled up to her breasts, and her posture-disregarding her voluptuous anatomy-was reminiscent of a sullen child.
She was shaken from her forlorn thoughts of Dennis and the mess she had made of their relationship. Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock at the front door.
Without considering her state of undress, she rose and went to answer the door. As her hand touched the knob, she dazedly realized the impropriety of her attire, and instead squinted through the small glass peephole to see who the caller was.
It was Lorna Andon.
Melissa felt a burning rage of hot wires coming alive in the tendons at the back of her neck. Lorna appeared to be alone on the porch. Melissa unbolted the door, opening it a fraction so she could be heard through the screen door.
"What the hell do you want?" Melissa said gruffly. She had no intention of letting Lorna into the house.
"I want to talk to you," Lorna said calmly. "May I come in?"
"I can hear you fine," Melissa said.
"I want to make a deal with you," Lorna told her. "And I can't talk about it through a doorway."
"I'm not interested in any deals."
"All right, then," Lorna replied stiffly. "If you don't want to get your negatives back..." She turned and started down the porch steps.
Melissa swung the door open. "Wait!"
Lorna stopped in her tracks, looking back over her shoulder.
"You can come in," Melissa relented. "You just have to wait a minute so I can.... get my robe on.
Lorna whirled around and pulled the screen open, pushing past Melissa into the house. "You don't need a robe, sugar," she advised Melissa, taking in her scantily covered body with a covetous grin.
Lorna was wearing a long black cape, which had a single silver button at the neck. It lent her a floating mien and set off the olive skin of her face and neck.
Melissa's lovely nylon-shrouded breasts rose and fell with her desperate breathing. "Just tell me how much money you want," she said. "As soon as I can get it, I'll call you." She felt trapped; she didn't like the way Lorna was leering at her. "I want all the negatives," she added, "any prints you've made.... and also the contract I signed."
Lorna let loose with a laugh. "You know just what you want, don't you?" she sneered. "But you don't have any idea what I want." She reached out and boldly took one of Melissa's nipples between her thumb and forefinger, kneading the dusky nub gently.
Melissa twisted her body away from the dark-haired vulture of a woman, her nipple embarrassingly hard, making a jutting little point beneath her nightgown. "How much do you want?" she said again, though the way Lorna was looking at her breasts said everything. She knew perfectly well what Lorna was insinuating, and she knew she was going to have to bend to her will.
The corners of Lorna's mouth turned up in a victorious smile. "John wants to send your photos to your husband, Melissa. You know that. And he will send them-along with the magazine they'll be published in-eventually. He wants to keep on blackmailing you, but nothing you can do will make him stop tormenting you. My brother is ruthless and totally without morals."
Melissa stared at the woman in horror. She didn't want to believe what Lorna was saying, but what evidence did she have that it wasn't true? Why would John Andon ever hand over the pictures to her when he could keep them and get free sex from her and money for the photos, too?
"John doesn't know I'm here," Lorna went on. "This is just between you and me. You see, I'm the only person who can get those pictures for you, Melissa. But my price is more fair than Johnny's." She paused, unfastening the silver button of her cape. "I don't like my lovers to go away mad."
"Lovers." Melissa echoed the word as though it were in a foreign language.
Lorna turned on that insidious smile of hers again. "Yes, sugar. I want you to eat my pussy. Suck my clitty and tongue-fuck my pussy and lick me 'til I come." She opened her cape and dropped it dramatically to the floor.
Lorna was stark naked.
Melissa stared in awe at the tempting billows of Lorna's pendulous tits, the large, brown-red nipples, her firm, rounded belly and the thick, black triangle of hair that blanketed the target of her desires. Melissa recalled tasting Lorna's juices on Andon's cock and her mouth went dry with a thirst for more of that delicious pool of sex.
"You.... you don't have the pictures now," Melissa stammered, averting her eyes to the rug. "How can I trust you'll bring them to me."
Lorna stepped closer to Melissa, the sweet perfume of her body like a subtle aphrodisiac. "Eating my cunt is only half of my price," Lorna informed her in a lilting voice. "That's the down payment so I know you mean business-and you know I do. If you make the down payment, I'll be back tomorrow with the merchandise you want, and you can pay me the balance."
Melissa looked up to catch Lorna grinning at her mischievously.
"Tomorrow," Lorna said after a pause, "I get to eat your pussy until you're whimpering like a cat in heat."
"Don't touch me," Melissa warned her. "You're lying to me. You aren't going to bring me the pictures. You're just going to... to use me. You're a queer, Lorna!"
Lorna snorted a laugh. "Why are you backing away from me, Melissa? I have no intention of attacking you. I can't rape you. I know your fingernails are as sharp as mine. I already told you: I want you to eat my pussy. You know my terms. If you don't trust me, I'll leave now. But you can bet your little cunt you'll be contacted by John in no time at all. Will you trust him more than me? His price is much higher than mine."
Her head swimming in confusion, Melissa again whined, "But how do I know you're telling the truth? I can't take much more of this."
"I'm the only chance you have, sugar."
Melissa knew that Lorna was right. There was no other choice but to go along with her deal.
"Which way to the bedroom, Melissa?" Lorna mewed.
Melissa turned and walked with resignation down the hallway to her room, knowing that Lorna was following her, probably staring at her bare ass wiggling beneath the gauzy nylon of her nightgown. Entering her room, she stepped aside and watched Lorna swish past and go to the bed.
Melissa hadn't even made the bed; the sheets and blanket were still rumpled from her restless night.
Pushing all the bedclothes aside to leave just the bare white sheet, Lorna lay down gracefully and parted her legs.
Melissa walked to the foot of the bed as solemnly as a pallbearer. She could look right into the wet red split of Lorna's vagina.
"Take off your nightie," Lorna said.
Melissa lifted the filmy garment over her head, then dropped it to the floor.
"Did you ever eat a pussy, Melissa?"
Melissa stood staring blankly at Lorna like a soldier at attention.
"Answer me," Lorna said firmly.
"No."
"But do you think you would like it?"
"Of course not..." Melissa heard the feebleness of her own voice.
"Tell me the truth, Melissa." Lorna cupped her hands around her tits and started squeezing them and crushing them together like water balloons. "Do you like my breasts, Melissa? Wouldn't you love to suck on my nipples?"
Melissa shied away from the lascivious sight; the little pink tips of Lorna's breasts were like tiny magnets, exerting an invisible attraction she wanted to resist. "Look, Lorna," she said in as disinterested a tone as she could manage. "I'll do what you ask, but not because I want to do it. You're making me do it."
"Come off it, sugar," Lorna said snidely. "I could feel the way you shivered that first time I touched you. You do remember that first time, don't you? John has a beautiful glossy of it. All you can see of me is the back of my head-down at your crotch, that is-but you, sugar, you have the most rapturous erotic look on your face-"
"SHUT UP!" Melissa cut her off. "I'm not a queer, Lorna."
"Tsk-tsk," Lorna mocked her. "Such a temperamental little girl." She stretched languorously on the bed, capturing Melissa's interest with her sleek, provocative body. "Queer is as queer does, and don't pout at me like that. Why are you so afraid to admit you want to make it with me?"
Melissa couldn't look her in the face. Her knees felt weak. "I like men," she stammered.
"So do I," Lorna piped up. "But there don't seem to be any available right now, so I'll settle for second best." She splayed her legs as wide as they would spread, her dark cunt appearing. "Eat it, Melissa. I'm tired of talking about it."
Numbly, Melissa went down on the bed on her elbows between Lorna's legs. She stared at the gaping moist hole, the little clitty hidden within the upper folds of Lorna's cuntlips.
Lorna wiggled her crotch around impatiently. "Does it look pretty, sugar, hmmm? Put your little tongue inside it, Melissa. Lick my pretty little clit. Make me come, Melissa, make me come!"
Melissa's own cunt started to ache and throb. I can't be getting excited over this! she lamented. But it was all too true, and she knew there was no use pretending. She really did want to eat Lorna's pussy.
"Don't just look at it, sugar," Lorna said. "I want you to eat it up. You do want to lick it, don't you? Do you want to put your finger inside the hole?"
Melissa placed a hand upon the bush and gently touched at the dark crinkly hairs. They tickled her fingertips. She traced an exploratory finger down one side of the vulva, wisping away the pubic curls lightly. Her fingernail stroked over the glistening pink skin of the vaginal orifice.
"Put your finger inside it," Lorna prodded her. "Just like it was a little cock fucking me." She undulated her pelvis lewdly.
Her nostrils widening from the ambrosial scent of Lorna's open slot, Melissa's lips parted and the tip of her pink tongue snaked out to moisten them. She wiggled her index finger into the purling crevice; the plushy membranes were warm and wet to her touch.
"Shove it in me!" Lorna gasped.
Melissa let the gyrating hole swallow up her finger one knuckle at a time. The inner muscles of the vaginal wall contracted frantically around her finger, sucking at it, pulling it voraciously deeper.
Her teeth gritted in lust, Melissa fucked her finger in and out of the hot cunt, staring at the forbidden spectacle in a silent trance. She wished she could ask Lorna to finger-fuck her, too, but she couldn't admit that to the teasing, prostrate girl.
"Now lick the clitoris," Lorna breathed. "Lick my pretty clit, Melissa."
Jerking her fingers in and out Lorna's vagina, Melissa leaned her face closer to the sweltering cunt. She could see the clitty now; its pink head was poking from beneath its hood. Melissa stuck out her tongue and licked lightly at the thick pubic hair.
Lorna ground her pelvis up wildly, attempting to increase the teasing oral friction. Melissa planted nibbling kisses in the hot hollows of Lorna's thighs, licking the saline sap that oozed out over the meaty lips of the vulva around her rhythmically jacking finger.
"Ooooh, yes!" Lorna yelled. "Lap up my cuntjuice, Melissa! Drink it like honey!"
Her tongue worked like a cat's at a bowl of cream, licking up and swallowing down the heady, thick lubricant. It coated the inside of her mouth like molasses, her finger still fucking in and out, in and out, dredging up more and more of the cunt syrup.
"Lick my clit," Lorna moaned. She was writhing on the bed insanely, her hands pinching at her own hard nipples to drive herself further into the inevitable orgasm.
Melissa's tongue prodded its way up to the top of Lorna's slit. Pressing her face into the damp morass of cuntmeat, Melissa shoved her tongue into the vagina, so that her tongue and forefinger were simultaneously working into the lubricious chasm. She could feel the erect clit jumping wildly against her upper lip.
Melissa withdrew her tongue from the tight wedge, drawing it up directly over the nub of the clitoris. Lorna's body racked maniacally on the bed with the sensation.
Lorna had stopped stimulating her nipples, and was clawing the sheet like a madwoman. Her head was wrenching from side to side, gasps of ecstasy escaping from her throat, raspy, strangulated, guttural moans.
Pursing her lips around the jutting clit, Melissa sucked on it as though it were a tiny piece of hard candy. Lorna's cries grew louder as Melissa sucked frantically, her finger pumping like a piston in an oiled cylinder.
The way she was positioned on the bed, Melissa's own pussy was making contact with the cold iron railing on the foot of the bed. The position was torture; her cunt wanted to rub up against something itself, yet each time she attempted to friction herself against the bed, the cold railing was a rude shock to her bare loins. Melissa's clitoris felt like a live wire, her own juices spilling copiously from the lips of her cunt.
"I'm going to come!" Lorna cried. "Suck me! Suck me!"
Melissa at last pulled her finger out of Lorna's slurping chasm. Lowering her head, she crammed her mouth over the raw spasming hole, driving her tongue deep into the vibrating chalice.
"Ooooh!" Lorna screamed. "Oooooh!"
Melissa felt the cunt rippling, grabbing, vacuuming violently at her buried tongue. Lorna's legs clamped around Melissa's head, smothering her face into the exploding tissues of her crotch.
Melissa drank down the overflowing juice, sucking loudly at the rich broth of female excitement. She could hardly breathe. Her own pussy was burning indignantly.
Lorna's hands were in Melissa's hair, smashing her face tighter into her rocking cunt. Her orgasm spiraled out from her cunt like a whirlwind, sending her spinning into space.
The waves slowed to sporadic convulsing spurts of pleasure, with Lorna's muscles gradually relaxing. Melissa was pulling away from the aromatic humidity of Lorna's thighs when a male voice materialized behind her.
"I never realized Dennis' competition was so lovely, Melissa."
Melissa, her face still smeared with the incriminating evidence of Lorna's wet snatch, turned her weary head to see her brother, Greg, standing suddenly in the doorway of the room.
"You must be Melissa's brother," Lorna said cheerily. "I'm Lorna. So nice to meet you."
Greg cocked his head at Lorna, approving of her pleasant attitude toward his uninvited intrusion. "I take it there's room for one more," he said.
Lorna wrinkled her nose at him coquettishly. "There's always room for one more as far as I'm concerned."
Melissa stared incredulously as her brother removed his coat, loosened his tie and started to unbutton his shirt as casually as changing into a bathing suit for the beach. What was he doing? She didn't dare say anything-she didn't know where she would go if he threw her out of his house, too.
She couldn't help but watch as Greg undid his belt. She remembered exactly what his prick looked like and how expertly he'd used it on Judy a few nights earlier. Her pussy was on fire but she felt so low, so filthy and whorish she couldn't meet Grey's eyes.
As soon as she saw his bare cock, a shudder ran through her spine like a needle of ice. His prick was already hard and pulsating. It looked even bigger to her now than it had when she'd spied on him. She wondered how long he'd been watching her and Lorna, and she wondered if that was why his cock was already erect.
Greg swaggered nude to the side of the bed. "Get up on the bed, Melissa," he commanded her. He disregarded Lorna completely. "I don't blame Dennis for kicking you out of the house. I don't blame him one bit. You cheap little cunt. I ought to tan your hide."
"Aw, don't be such a party-pooper," Lorna said to him. "She didn't eat my cunt any more than Dennis did."
"What?" Melissa awoke from her spell of shame. "What did you say about Dennis?"
Lorna threw up her hands carelessly. "Oh, I paid your hubby a visit to find out your new address-he's got a really tasty cock, Melissa. Does he eat your cunt as well as he did mine?"
Melissa wanted to believe Lorna was kidding her, but somehow she knew it was true. She couldn't even be angry, after all the terrible things she'd done.
Greg seemed not to care if Dennis had been playing the field too. He just kept ogling Melissa. "I won't tan your hide," he said, ignoring Lorna, "but I'm going to fuck you, Melissa. I'm going to fuck your wet pussy 'til you can't walk."
"No.... Greg..." She caught her breath as he moved closer to her. "You don't understand!"
"I understand that you're in my house and you're naked and your bare cunt is staring me in the face," he informed her. "I always did want to screw that cute cunt of yours, you know. When you were twelve and I was sixteen, I used to watch through the keyhole when you undressed in your bedroom at night. I wanted to fuck you then and I've wanted to fuck you more and more over the years. But I never tried to. You know why?"
Melissa took in his admission in horrified silence. She couldn't speak; she just shook her head dumbly.
"Because I respected you," he sneered. "You were my little sister, and I respected the hell out of you."
"Don't do it, please," she begged him.
"Spread your legs, Sister," he barked. "Spread 'em wide."
Melissa did as he said and he immediately crawled on top of her. Lorna moved over to give the two of them room but did not get up from the bed.
"Now I see you for what you are," Greg raved on. "A cheap little gash like every other gash in the world. A cheating little dyke."
Lorna thought it silly that Greg and Melissa were making such a big thing of incest. She and John had been going at it for years, thumbing their noses at the rest of the world's morality.
Greg leaned his hips into Melissa's open thighs, stabbing his prick at her cunt. She was so drenched with sap that he slithered into her without so much as a hand to guide him. He began pumping in steady, determined jerks, making her groan every time he drove it in.
Melissa tossed her head miserably, her face streaked with fresh tears of shame while her cunt sucked unabashedly at her brother's penetrating dick. The feeling in her vagina was more intense than her guilt, and in no time she was humping her hips madly, bucking her pelvis up against him for all she was worth.
She gouged her nails into his muscular shoulders, moaning deliriously. "Yes, Greg, yes, fuck me, fuck me... "
He pumped with a vengeance, making her hot cunt spasm wildly. He could feel her full, bloated tits against his chest. So many years he'd wanted to get at those tits. He grabbed a handful, bending his head down to suck the cherry nipple deep into his mouth, his teeth ridging into the lush white skin above and below the aureole.
In no time at all, Melissa started coming, rocking, squirming, panting, screaming out her perverse passion in a fit of uninhibited orgasm.
Greg's cock spit a volley of hot jism into his sister's clutching pussy. Then another load, then another.
Her cunt consumed the cum as if it were its life nourishment, her entire body shaking in a final frenzy of fulfillment.
Lorna, who had been studying this action at close range, gave Greg a friendly pat on the back as he extricated himself from Melissa.
"Not bad," she congratulated him. "Not bad at all."
He gave her a perplexed look. To Melissa, he said: "You can live here as long as you like, Sis. But as long as you stay in my house, the same rule applies to you as it does to every other chick who's lived here-you fuck me without complaint, any time I want it."
He climbed off the bed, retrieving his clothes from the floor. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone now," he said sardonically, making his exit.
"If my pussy wasn't so satisfied, I wouldn't have let him leave until he used that big plunger on me too," Lorna remarked to Melissa, who was curled up in a wretched heap beside her. Lorna leaned closer to the distraught girl, hearing a sob. "Hey, what're you crying for? He looked like a pretty decent stud to me."
Melissa made no response. She was beyond caring about Lorna's opinions-or even her threats.
As Lorna was dressing, Melissa lifted her head to glare at the woman. "I've changed my mind about our deal," she said dully. "Don't bother to come back tomorrow."
Lorna merely laughed. Then she disappeared from the room.
For the first time in her life, Melissa considered suicide. Was there no other way out?
CHAPTER NINE
LORNA HADN'T BEEN GONE BUT FIVE minutes when Greg reappeared at the door of the guest room. Now fully dressed, he walked right into the room and stood leering down at Melissa's ravaged nude body.
"I never thought I'd see the day you'd come to this," he smirked. "Filthy little cunt."
Her languid blue eyes searched his face, her degradation complete, all the fight gone out of her. "You don't know..." she said meekly. But she could see that he knew she was an animal who would obey the perverse commands of lust-and was there anything else that mattered?
Greg grabbed one of her billowing breasts, weighing it in his hand. "Ah, but you've got nice tits, Melissa, real grade-A tits." He pinched the nipple into a puckered bud. "Who was that other cunt? Your Lesbian lover-girl?"
Melissa paid no attention to his hand on her breast. "That's the woman who's blackmailing me," she responded.
He stopped stimulating the nipple as though it had burned his fingers. "What are you talking about?"
She looked up and said, "Her name is Lorna Andon and she and her brother John are blackmailing me."
"Blackmailing you for what? You haven't got any money."
"They're making me pay in sex," Melissa told him, her voice terse and to the point. "That's what you walked in on. Lorna was here collecting."
"What have they got on you?" Greg pumped her.
"I'm a whore," Melissa sneered. "I'm a slut and a whore just like you said."
He shook her shoulder, now seriously concerned. "Tell me what they've got on you, Melissa."
She sighed, her creamy breasts rising and falling abruptly. Her body still glistened with her sweat, and the room was filled with her hot woman smells.
Greg looked at the fleecy lips of her cunt. His own stringy jism seeped from her slit.
"I've got a job as a nude model," Melissa began, a distant look in her eyes. "I was modeling for the college art class. Dennis didn't know about it but when he found out later he kicked me out of the house. I only modeled one session."
"Why did you do that without telling Dennis?" he wanted to know.
Melissa cupped a hand over her cunt in a sudden feeble attempt at modesty. She felt Greg's sticky semen and realized the absurdity of her act. Placing her hand down at her side quickly, she drew a long white string of cum across her rounded belly. She felt dirty and vile.
"I guess I just wanted attention," she belatedly answered Greg. "I wanted people to look at me and think I was pretty, but I'm a no-good whore!"
"Stop putting yourself down and tell me the rest."
Melissa sniffled. "Lorna's brother was one of the art students. He's not a college student, though. He told me he was a photographer and that I could make a lot of money as a fashion model. I went to his studio and..." She closed her eyes, grabbing her brother's hand in her own.
"What happened in the studio?" he asked softly.
"John and Lorna tricked me into posing for some nude pictures and they got me drunk and then they forced me to pose in some really dirty ways-with Lorna, eating my pussy."
Greg shook his head. "This is pretty hard to believe. What's the blackmail threat?"
"They say they'll send the pictures to Dennis.... and I'd never be able to explain it to him. God, he thinks I'm so pure and good.... "She bowed her head guiltily. "At least he used to think that."
Greg took a cigarillo from his shirt pocket and slowly put it to his mouth. "I'm sorry I..." He stopped, unable to come up with the right words. He lit the small cigar. "I'm sorry I misjudged you," he said at last.
"You didn't misjudge me," Melissa avowed quickly. "I'm a slut and a whore and I may as well be dead."
"Don't talk that way, Melissa," he said. "I never should have-"
"Greg, you shouldn't apologize. I wanted you to fuck me!"
"That doesn't make any difference, Melissa. I wanted to fuck you, too. I told you, I've always had a hankering to get in your pants." He puffed at his cigarillo. "But I'm sorry I did it," he added. "I was acting rashly when I didn't know the gravity of the situation."
"It's wrong to want that, Greg," she said flatly. "Incest is one of the worst things there is."
His nostrils breathed a laugh. "I make my own rules for right and wrong. I'm not going to punish myself for someone else's morality. We probably should have fucked a long time ago and gotten it out of our systems."
Melissa sat up on the bed. "What should I do, Greg? I want to go back to Dennis."
"You should. He's probably cooled down by now."
"But what about John and Lorna? They're going to send him the pictures," she whined.
"Just tell Dennis what you told me. He'll probably be mad at first, but he's an intelligent guy. He'll forgive you."
"But don't you think I'm sick, Greg," Melissa persisted. "There's something really wrong with me. I liked it when I ate Lorna's pussy. And I liked it when she ate mine!"
Grey looked her in the eyes, resting a hand on her delicate shoulder. Although the gesture had been intended as merely reassuring, the bizarre circumstances charged it with sexual energy. "You have to forget all the rules you learned in Sunday school, Melissa. The world isn't like that. Forget about right and wrong and normal and abnormal."
"But, Greg..." She couldn't find her voice.
He butted his cigarillo in an ashtray on the nightstand. "The law of survival is eat or be eaten, Sis. That's the only rule to live by. You can't let John Andon or his queer sister eat you up. Bite back, baby."
Melissa was staring into his eyes. She wanted so badly to kiss him-not just a sisterly kiss of affection. She wanted to suck at his mouth and feed him her tongue.
He turned his knowing smile away from her. "I'm not going to fuck you again," he said. "Get that out of your head. I'm saving myself for a date tonight." He stood up. "Get dressed, Melissa. I'll give you a ride home. You're going to tell Dennis everything, and show him you've got some teeth."
"All right, Greg," she said in a small voice. "I'll try."
He sauntered to the door, then slowly pivoted to face her again. "I wouldn't mention anything to him about our little fling, though," he suggested. "I won't say anything if you won't, and nobody's got any pictures of it. Now get yourself together."
He left her alone in the bedroom for a second time.
She felt like a different person-as if some constricting band inside her brain had snapped, letting off an enormous amount of pressure. She had just experienced the most humiliating scene of her life, and it had somehow cleansed her, shaken her consciousness into a higher-more fruitful-level of operation.
She showered, lavishing her body selfishly with the gentle soothing massage of the hot water. Then she put on clean panties and a comfortable dress. She kept telling herself that Dennis would accept her story and that it was going to be all right between them again.
* * *
The sun had set by the time Greg pulled his Porsche up the Edwards' driveway. He carried Melissa's suitcase to the front door, setting it down briskly.
"I guess this is as far as I'll be going," he said. "You can invite me over some other time."
Melissa pecked his cheek, too scared now to feel anything sexual toward him. "Thanks for everything," she said. "If I have any trouble, I might call you again..."
"You won't have trouble," he assured her. "Good night, Sis."
"Good night," she echoed, watching him jog out to his car.
She hesitated to just walk into her house, but felt it would be childish to ring the bell. She had to remember what Greg had said about showing her teeth. She smiled to herself.
She fished her house key from her purse, letting herself into the softly illuminated living room, dragging her suitcase behind her. The house was quiet.
"Dennis?" she called, not daring to step further into the house. "Dennis, it's me, Melissa. I've come back."
She heard movement in the bedroom, and a second later, the door opened, light pouring into the hallway.
"Dennis?" she whispered, her eyes welling up. She burst into tears. "Dennis, I want to live with you! Please, Dennis, please.... I'm sorry, Dennis. I'll do anything to make it up to you."
He stood in a state of shock for a moment, then came forward in long strides to take her into his arms, rocking her body against his chest, pressing her close, his body reveling in the memory of her supple turns and twists. Her nipples mashed into his chest, his hand groping the familiar terrain of her back and buttocks. Already his prick was growing for her.
"It's okay, hon," he told her, comforting the racking sobs that shook her body against his. "I guess I lost my head. I've really missed you."
She let her emotions pour out, melting against his strength, feeling so good to be in his arms again. She didn't want to let him go for anything-except, perhaps, so they could shed their clothing.
"I want to go to the bedroom," she purred, standing on her toes to brush her lips against his earlobe. For the moment, the blackmail story, with all its gruesome details, could wait. Now she just wanted to make wild, passionate love to her husband; she wanted to show him she could and would do anything he wanted to sexually please him. After what she'd been through in the past few days, there was nothing he could do to her body-or she to his-that would not be right and natural and good.
Arms around each other's waists, hands still grappling frantically at each other's clothes, they headed for the bedroom. They fell onto the mattress together, clothes and all, their mouths meeting in wet combat, hands clawing at buttons and zippers, pulling and tugging in panting enthusiasm.
"I want you to spank me," Melissa proposed on sudden inspiration. "I want your cock, Dennis. But first I want you to spank me for all the bad things I've ever done to you." Furrowing her hands into the open fly of his trousers, she found his prick, urgently pulsating, hot and alive in her fingers.
Dennis had disengaged the zipper which ran down the back of her dress to her waist and was yanking the dress down the front of her. She writhed, her big tits appearing over the top of her dress, the hardened nipples stuck up in cherry-red arrowpoints.
He plucked the buds with his fingertips, making little hedonistic whimpers come from deep in Melissa's throat.
He tore her dress down savagely to her hips, shooting up to a sitting position. Getting a grip on her tight panties he whisked them down, tossing her clothes in a scattered heap. Melissa cooed and undulated seductively beside him on the mattress as he shed his own clothes.
She rolled onto her stomach, arching her back and jackknifing her knees underneath her so that her bountiful bare ass winked up at him. "You have to paddle my behind," she begged.
He hesitated a moment; Melissa had never before made such a request and he couldn't tell if she was serious. But when his eyes lit on the ripe target of her silky buns, his hands itched to take up her offer. Teeth gritted, his open palm came down with a loud THWACK. And again. And again. Again, till his hand burned and her ass was mantled with the punishing sting. Melissa barely whimpered, taking his punishment bravely.
"Okay, you've paid for your naughtiness," he said to her wryly. "Now you can turn over and pay for the horniness you've caused me."
She did, and he fell beside her, the thick, pulsing length of his cock nuzzling into the warmth of her belly. His hands grabbed onto her blooming breasts with a skilled touch.
Melissa arched herself against him, her fingers spidering around the throbbing perimeter of his prick, jacking the organ fervidly. Her hands pulled and clutched, relaying her needs, her lusty desires.
Two of Dennis' fingers wedged her moist labia apart, the ball of his thumb pushing into her clitoris. She was slippery, fully prepared to be screwed. Her head rolled from side to side. The vaginal tissues sucked noisily at the invading fingers.
Her firm buttocks, brightly pink and stinging from her recent spanking, ground against the sheet, churning the embers of her passion. She wanted him to stuff his wonderful prick into her and shoot the hot wad into the depths of her cunt. She pulled his cockhead to the entrance of her vagina, twisting her body into fucking position. The strong muscles of her inner pussy still burned at his pumping fingers.
"I want you, Dennis," she purred. "Stick your hard dick into my pussy now."
His fingers came out of her and his stiff tool skewered the butter-soft hole, rippling across the greasy inner tissues, until the hot cunt sucked him and gyrated wantonly, begging for the fuck of a lifetime.
She twisted beneath him like a she-leopard in heat. The head of his cock burrowed to the furthest reaches of her pussy, causing her to buck her crotch up at him, smashing her twitching clit against his pelvis. Her fingers dug into his muscular buttocks.
Her breath came hot and heavy on his neck, her animal cravings bursting through her flesh like dynamite. She whimpered like a bitch, her full lips opening and closing, sucking at the air, her tongue flicking out to lick at his hunched shoulders.
He plowed his prick faster, harder. He could feel her big tits squished against his sweaty chest, the taut nipples rolling like little pebbles between them.
"I'm going to come, Dennis," she gasped, pumping her hips more wildly than ever.
Her squeezing vaginal walls clamped at his prick, trying to draw more and more of him into her, her climax exploding deep inside her, washing over her like turbulent winds. Cries emitted from her throat-earthy animal noises and grunts of pleasure.
He locked his buttocks tight together, stopping all movement save for Melissa's vibrating twat agitating around the thick column of his cock.
A gradual slowing down and a series of gasping deep breaths signaled the end of her orgasm. She knew that her husband had not yet climaxed and she prepared herself for a second helping of the same. As if in a dream, his voice penetrated the dark void of her senses.
"I want you to give me a blow job," he grated.
She could feel his prick, hard as polished flint inside her cunt. "All right, Dennis," she breathed. "I'll suck on you. You can come in my mouth.... I'll even swallow your cum."
He hastily withdrew his dripping meat. "I've been waiting three years for this," he puffed. He got up against the headboard and sat back. "I want to watch you suck it," he told her. "I want to see your mouth just eat it up."
Soft light spilled across their shameless nude bodies as Dennis adjusted the bedside lamp like a spotlight. Melissa rolled onto her stomach, coming up on her elbows between his sprawled legs. Her bulging tits hung onto the mattress.
He aimed his cock at her lips. "Suck it, Melissa."
She met his eyes, bending to engulf the fat head of his big cock. She drew it to the back of her throat, twisting her head in a corkscrewing motion, her deep eyes still trained on his.
"Harder!" he groaned.
Her lips stretched thin as she applied pressure on the swollen muscle. Her cuntjuice, still painted on his cock, trickled down her throat. She really did want to suck him now. She wanted his frothy semen to spew into her mouth.
Taking her head into his hands, he lunged his groin into her face. Her eyes bulged, tears brimming over. He heard a stifled choke deep in her throat where the head of his prick was lodged on the brink of climax.
He pulled his prick back, yanking her head up as his balls cocked to release their first jet of semen.
The head of his cock slid out of her lips and he wrapped his fist around it, aiming it at her open wet mouth. He jerked his hand and his ejaculation began. Spurt after spurt of his sticky blobs of cum splashed into Melissa's open pink mouth, coating her tongue, her teeth, splattering her sensual lips. She looked like she was drinking from a fountain.
When his groin had quit spasming, he pushed her head back down, her mouth passionately groveling to the task of cleaning and tonguing his organ to a blissful flaccidity.
His breathing returned to normal, he stroked Melissa's honey hair, saying simply, "You're forgiven."
Her sweat turned cold on her spine. She knew he'd meant the words to comfort her, but they reminded her of how much he didn't even know yet. "I have to talk to you, Dennis," she said weakly.
He looked at her curiously. Jism was smeared across her cheeks. "Dennis," she said plaintively, "I'm in a lot of trouble and I need you to help me.
His brow creased, but he said nothing, waiting.
"Someone's been blackmailing me, Dennis," she said quickly. She pushed herself up closer to him so that her buoyant tits were resting on his satiated cock. "It's connected with that modeling job. You don't know all the details yet, Dennis, and I'm afraid to-"
"What kind of blackmail?" he said suddenly. "Are you really in trouble? Quit blubbering and tell me what's wrong."
Tears streaming, nose running, Melissa looked at him pitifully. "They're going to send you dirty pictures of me," she cried. "They made me do it, Dennis! They threatened me!"
His eyes shot open wide. "Who? What pictures?"
"John Andon and his sister made me pose for dirty pictures!" she bellowed.
Dennis was incredulous. "The art class?" he stammered. "I don't believe it!"
"No.... no. Andon is a photographer and he made me do it! Dennis, I didn't know what was happening! They tricked me into it and then they said they were going to send you the pictures if I didn't..."
His face flushed, a trembling rage building in his gut. He snagged his fingers in her tousled hair and yanked her hard. "And you had nothing to do with it?" he assaulted her.
"No, no!" she sobbed. "It was all a mistake-a terrible mistake!"
He eased his grip on her. "I've a mind to throw you out on your ass again," he snarled. "Just the way you are now-stark naked. It would serve you right."
"Please, don't do it!" she begged him, clutching at the blankets to cover her exposed flesh.
He glared at her in contempt, but the soft quivering feel of her flesh against his quelled his anger. "It's a good thing you sucked my cock, Melissa," he told her. "I might not be so easy with you if you hadn't. You're a good little cocksucker, though. If you ever do anything like this again, it'll take more than a bit of spanking and a mouthful of my cum to get back on my good side. Now go wash up and make me some dinner. I want to think this over."
She lifted her grateful, repentant eyes to him. "Thank you, Dennis. And I'll suck your cock any time you want. I really liked doing it."
Dennis didn't acknowledge her remark. He was thinking of Andon. Whoever the bastard was, he was going to fix him good.
* * *
"We have a visitor," Lorna intoned cheerily from the door of her brother's studio.
Andon's face darkened as he saw Melissa follow his sashaying sister into the studio. But his aggravation turned to a smile when he considered the possibilities. "What a pleasant surprise," he sneered.
Melissa stared saucer-eyed at two very young, and very naked girls on the bed. One of them was fondling a huge black man's growing cock. The man smiled at Melissa.
"Did you come to join the fun?" Andon quipped, his eyes disappointed at the way Melissa's pants suit hid her charms. She was carrying a large purse and her face was set in a stony mask.
"I came to give you an ultimatum," she announced flatly.
Lorna laughed in her face. "An ultimatum! You college girls sure like those big words, don't you, sugar?"
"Well, she can think up some more big words while I get a picture of this," Andon said in a bored tone. He aimed his camera at the bed, where one of the girls was lapping the big Negro's long thick prick like a popsicle.
Melissa made a face of revulsion.
"Did you ever see a fifteen-year-old girl suck a man off before?" Lorna nudged her. "Maybe you'd like to model for some photos like these sometime."
"This is illegal, you know," was all Melissa said.
"So what?" Lorna laughed. "Since when have we worried about legality?"
Andon snapped a couple shots, then turned to Melissa again. "Now.... what was it you wanted to say to me?"
"I demand to have those negatives right now," she said. "You tricked me into posing like that and now you're just trying to blackmail me!"
"What do you mean, just trying to blackmail you?" he roared. "I'm doing a pretty good job, ain't I? Look, Melissa, I'll give you the negatives when I damn well feel like it. But first you're going to fuck me and suck me till I'm tired of you. Now get your clothes off and get up on the bed with the others!"
Melissa turned and ran from the room. She could hear Andon's hideous laughter echoing behind her as she flew down the stairs and away from his lurid den of debauchery. She didn't stop running for a block and a half when she reached her car. Dennis was sitting behind the wheel.
"Did you get it?" he asked her as she climbed in beside him.
"I've got all the evidence we need," she said, pulling a small cassette recorder from her purse and flicking the switch to OFF. The plastic-encased, silently spinning reels stopped abruptly.
CHAPTER TEN
UNDER THE YELLOW GLARE OF THE bright kitchen light, Melissa watched Dennis nervously as he sat listening without comment to the tape of her encounter with John Andon. He didn't flick off the recorder until he heard his own voice distinctly ask, "Did you get it?"
"The woman you heard was Lorna," Melissa said. "There were some real young girls doing.... things on the bed with a big black man. It was disgusting, Dennis. John took some pictures of them, then-"
"I heard it," he interrupted her. "It was easy enough to follow." He looked at her coldly, then asked, "Did you ever let this John Andon fuck you?"
"No," she said quickly. "I... he... "She didn't know how to tell him that Andon had forced her to perform fellatio on him. Why was there always something else-something more horrendous-to confess? "He made me do things," she stuttered. "I didn't want to, but he made me. But he didn't... he never fucked me..."
"Did he touch you?"
"Not exactly."
Dennis searched her face. "Did you kiss him?"
She swallowed hard, remembered the way she'd brushed her lips across Andon's pulsing prick. "Sort of," she hedged.
"Did you suck his cock?" Dennis asked point blank.
Blood rushed to her head. Why was he tormenting her again?
Dennis took her chin in his hand and turned her face to his, shaking her cruelly. "Did you blow him?" he asked again.
She couldn't speak. He looked like he was going to murder her.
"Did you suck his cock?" he rasped. "Answer me!"
Her dry lips parted, a tiny "Yes" emerging.
"Did you swallow it?" he hissed at her. "Did you swallow John Andon's filthy cum, Melissa?"
She didn't have to answer anything. He knew the answer. She felt as if Dennis could see actual droplets of Andon's jism on her lips.
Dennis looked away from her. "Get out of your clothes," he commanded, an edge of threat in his voice.
Like a prisoner condemned to execution, she fatalistically obeyed him.
When she was naked, Dennis pushed back his chair from the kitchen table and pointed to his lap. "Bend over my knee," he commanded her.
Knowing she deserved it, she immediately complied, proffering the creamy spheres of her plump ass to his will. He rubbed his hands greedily over the rolling hills of her asscheeks, dipping a finger down the valley and around to her marshy pussy. He wet his fingers in the juices of her cunt, then raised his hand and brought it down with a hot smack on her ass.
Melissa whimpered but didn't complain. She winced each time the smarting report of his hand hit her asscheeks, one after the other. He was more serious about it this time; he wasn't going to let her off so easy as before.
Dennis walloped the bouncy cushions with a vengeance, watching with satisfaction as the creamy balloons turned bright pink. It was the second time in his life he'd ever spanked a woman, but his hand was landing on her shimmying ass like an old pro.
"Ouch!" Melissa involuntarily yelled as the stunning blows rained down harder. "Ouch! That hurts!"
"It better hurt," Dennis informed her between attacks on her backside. "This is a lesson I don't want you to forget."
She squirmed uncomfortably on his lap, a burning heat spreading over her ass. But it was not the pain that caused the combustion of desire to flare up in her wiggling cunt. Her vulnerable position brought out her wanton instincts and she found herself wanting more and more to be fucked.
Dennis belted her again and again until her ass and his palm were stinging. Letting the sore hand drop, he sat ogling her bare red ass, his anger considerably diminished. He was through with paternal discipline. It was time to take a husband's revenge. He dumped her off his lap, then stood up.
Melissa remained kneeling where she'd fallen, quietly sobbing in abject misery. Even as Dennis was trying to cure her, she fell victim to her terrible sex cravings.
"From now on," he said, "I want you to be honest with me, Melissa. If you'd told me that you wanted to suck my cock long ago, this wouldn't have happened."
"Do you really want me to be honest?" she asked him.
He nodded emphatically.
"Well," she said, "right now, I honestly want you to fuck the hell out of me."
"That's just what I had in mind," he assured her, undressing quickly. His prick was already hard and bobbing.
With no further explanation, he pushed his young wife face down onto the table, her feet planted far apart on the floor. Her ass still glowed.
"Open your legs wider," he said.
They splayed open like the handles of a nutcracker, her dripping twat wide at the apex. He stuck the head of his prick at the swampy vaginal opening, then slid slowly up into her hot deep cunt.
There was a droning purr in her throat as his prick started plunging her sensitive inner tissues. Her pelvic bone ground into the edge of the table edge, sending shocks through her clitoris. Dennis was fucking her like an animal and it had never felt so good. It was somehow a proper climax to her spanking, with much more enjoyable aspects.
Dennis surged forward, bent over her, driving his straining cock into the throbbing, burning hole of her cunt. Her pussy quaked and pulled at him, the muscles rippling along his hardened prick as he pumped briskly in and out, his groin hammering against her plushy ass.
"Ohhh, Dennis.... ohh, God, Dennis, fuck me!" Melissa bounced her big ass eagerly into the virile thrusts of his hot groin.
She clutched at the edges of the table, her tits pillowing the weight of her torso. She could feel the bulbous head of Dennis' prick slithering up and down the spasming throat of her cunny, churning her fluids out like hot grease squirting from boiling pork chops.
His hands slid up her sides, then forced themselves beneath her to grasp her sandwiched breasts. He clawed at the meaty globes, his nails biting into the plushy white flesh, scraping across the wrinkled nodes of her nipples.
It was like Roman candles shooting sparks from her tits to her clit and back again. If there was such a place as heaven, Melissa was sure her pussy knew the joy of the angels.
Dennis stood back to watch his long cock thrusting in and out of the hidden tunnel beneath Melissa's well-formed ass. He squeezed her humping buns, keeping his own rhythm steady, and slid a forefinger up her tight young asshole.
"Ahhh!" she wailed, responding to the double invasion of her cunt and ass with a lusty vigor, grinding her billowing butt with maniacal determination, pushing hard as she could.
Dennis felt his nuts pulling tight, his inevitable climax readying to strike. His hips lurched forward and a hot jolt of his cum splattered into Melissa's pussy. He twisted his finger inside her ass, then let loose with another charge of his jism, then another.
Melissa was teetering on the brink of orgasm herself. The insistent finger worming around in her asshole was driving her crazy. But just before she came, Dennis pulled out both his prick and his finger.
"Now roll over," he told her brusquely.
She turned over on the table, opening her legs wide, the sloshy cream-oozing hole of her pussy shamelessly exposed to her husband.
Dennis eyed her gaping raw cunt, a smile lighting on his lips. He pulled up one of the kitchen chairs and sat down on it between her outstretched legs, as though settling down for a Thanksgiving banquet.
She tilted her head up to look at him. "Are you.... going to eat me?"
Her well-fucked, semen-glistening cunt was undulating before him, the darkness mysteriously inviting him to penetrate its emptiness, one way or another.
He rammed a finger into her vagina.
She gasped.
He watched her little clitoris waggle around like a Mexican jumping bean. Pursing his lips, he blew a thin stream of cold air at the hopping clitty.
"Oh, GOD!" she wailed.
He continued blowing on the pink button, fascinated by the results he was getting from such a seemingly insignificant action. He left his finger wedged in her, but didn't bother to pump it. He liked the feel of her sucking cunt, the orifice expanding and contracting around the buried digit as if attempting to swallow it up. His own jism was running out of her vagina onto his hand, mingled with her warm sap.
"I'm COMING!" she screeched.
But he knew it anyway, her cunt spasming wildly, nearly wrenching his finger from his hand. Then she was still for a few seconds-shuddered violently-and her orgasm was over.
Dennis withdrew his finger and stood up, gazing down at his lush, ravished wife.
"You're okay, Melissa," he said. "Looks like we're finally going to have the kind of marriage I had in mind when I proposed to you years ago. Now, I've just got to take care of John Andon."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MELISSA WAS RELIEVED TO HEAR THE squeal of Dennis' tires outside in the drive. He'd been gone for less than an hour, but the thought of him at John Andon's studio made her shiver with anxiety. She went to the window and pulled back the curtain to see him emerging from his car with a large brown bag in his hands.
She walked back to the couch and flopped down, her black negligee fluttering against her naked flesh. She hadn't worn the nightie since her honeymoon-she wondered if Dennis would remember it. Despite their afternoon sex bout, her pussy was anxious for another adventure with Dennis' sturdy cock-or tongue, or fingers, or anything else he might have in mind. The newly permissive atmosphere of their marriage was too good to believe. She just hoped Dennis would be as eager as she was to make up for lost time.
As the sound of Dennis' footsteps neared the front door, Melissa puffed out her chest and arranged her transparent negligee to provide a provocative exposure of her lush full tits. She pinched at her own nipples to make them stand out in dark jutting points; she crossed her legs, letting the flimsy material ride high in striking contrast to her creamy thighs.
The door opened and Dennis appeared. His eyes took in his glamorous wife with a smile of approval. "Mission accomplished!" he exclaimed, locking the door behind him. He strolled over to Melissa and thrust a piece of paper into her hand.
It was the contract.
"You can burn that," he said merrily, giving her nipple a friendly tweak.
"What about the pictures?" Melissa queried.
He shrugged. "I've got them," he said. "But I thought maybe I'd keep them. They're not so bad, you know. They would have been better in color, but I'm going to take care of that."
Melissa cocked her head to the side curiously. "What do you mean? What's in the bag?"
"A gift from John Andon," Dennis proclaimed, reaching in to withdraw a camera. "One Polaroid camera and a lifetime supply of color film. I traded it for a certain cassette recording that might have got old Andon into a lot of hot water if certain legal authorities heard it." He gazed at her tits as he spoke. "I hope I didn't break the poor guy's jaw when I belted him in the mouth," he added nonchalantly. "In a way, I'm indebted to him. He's the one that's responsible for our new hobby."
Melissa shook her head, still confused. "What new hobby? Dennis, what are you talking about?"
"This," he said, tapping the camera significantly. He focused the camera on her. "Smile-and spread those lovely, long legs wide, baby!"
Melissa giggled, striking a lascivious pose, her watery pussy canted lewdly at the camera. "After you take some pictures, you've got to fuck me, though," she warned him. "And I want to take some pictures of your big strong cock... and maybe some of you eating me and me sucking on you."
He pressed the shutter. "Baby, we're going to take enough pictures to make John Andon look like an amateur.... and then I'm going to fuck the living daylights out of you!"
"Dennis," she said, wiggling excitedly on the couch, "did I ever tell you you're my dream come true?"
"No," he replied. "Why?"
"Because you are."
"Well, gosh, ma'am, thanks."
Melissa laughed. "Oh, hurry up you fool and get over here. I want your cock."
