It's been said that every person has some dark passion within his soul-some hidden secret, desire, or whim that may never surface to be seen even by the closest confidante. Such a secret can be evil and sinister, or may be trivial and trite.
In America, such a dark passions are easily submerged and hidden by the complexities of everyday living. Yet sometimes dark passions surface-and another Charles Manson or Richard Speck emerges. Sometimes such passions are exposed-and another Watergate or Profumo scandal hits the headlines.
This novel is a dramatic representation of a woman who dares to let her most base desires and passions come to the fore. She is one of the unique few who are willing to accept the consequences, be it reward or punishment, for allowing themselves to become completely liberated. Her story is a startling insight into the life of a person who dares to let it all hang out.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
It was like always...
His hands on her and his body against hers, both naked. It was painfully exciting. Ellen felt her body dampen with sweat as her cunt dampened with juices. Her breathing was quick and ragged and shallow and the stroking of his hands over her belly and her tits and then down to her cunt was enough to make her moan and whimper under the incessant pounding of the pleasure and the need that built up inside her body. She felt as though her brain were afire and would soon melt her skull. It was potent and awesome and frightening in its intensity. And it was wonderful.
She wrapped her arms about his neck and held him, clasping their bodies together as though she could soak warmth and pleasure from him through his skin, draw it out of his pores and into hers.
Leo's beard was scratchy against her cheek and his chest was just as bristly against her tits. Ellen gloried in the feeling of his hairy body against hers, relished the feel of his weight as it bore partly upon her.
"Hhhhhhhh... aaaahhhh... " She sighed and moaned softly, feeling the welcome intimacy of his hands moving over her body, down her belly toward her cunt. She spread her legs to accept the intrusion that would soon come. His hand stopped at the border of her cunt hair and he waited for a while, playing with the wisps of hair and pausing to stroke her to a greater excitement before continuing toward his ultimate target. Then his hand moved down farther, over the hump of her cunt, which it cupped for a moment, the palm covering it lightly, squeezing slightly and in a steady rhythm, bringing her to a greater pitch of excitement and wringing fresh moans and cries from her.
Her mouth fell open, slack with the weakness of desire and he covered it with his own, his tongue slipping inside to play with hers. Ellen's arms tightened about his neck once more, pulling him into her with urgency, intensifying the kiss they shared and flattening her tits with the pressure of his chest against them.
His hand moved down a little more and she felt his fingertips lightly touch the wet lips of her cunt. Her legs stirred reflexively at this touch, responding to the stimulation without any conscious effort on her part. She moaned again and he kept his hand still except for a light, pulsating pressure by his fingertips against the sensitive lips of her cunt.
"Uuuhhhh... " she sighed. "Oh, honey... " Her voice was soft and breathy, barely audible even to him, with his ear next to her face.
His hand moved down once more, slipping his fingers between her legs and moving into a firmer contact with her cunt. He slipped one fingertip barely into the slit, just sliding it between her lips and stroking her there lightly but insistently. Ellen moaned again, more loudly than before. Her hips thrust upward as her body tried to force his finger more deeply into her cunt. But he let his hand move with her and the finger neither gained nor lost depth from her thrust.
"Honey... " she pleaded almost soundlessly and he chuckled and continued to move his finger lightly, keeping it barely inside her and slipping it along the length of her slit. Ellen felt a stab of pleasure and she tightened her grip on his neck, held to him as though to a lifeline.
As though he were giving her a reward for her tightened embrace, his finger slid in more deeply, entering her cunt right up to the first knuckle and she gasped and shivered with the sensation that accompanied the darting, stroking invasion. Her legs widened ever farther and she thrust her hips up against him, trying to drive the welcome intruder even more deeply into the depths of her cunt. This time he let her succeed and his finger entered her snatch as far as it could go, bringing part of another finger with it, just partly in, but enough to tighten her cunt around the stiff, fleshy invaders that were bringing her to such a pitch of excitement.
Her cunt was sopping wet by this time and she was in a fever of need and pulsing, flowing pleasure.
Leo thrust the second finger more deeply into her, thrust it in in one movement and left her gasping with joy. Her body was wringing wet with sweat and her muscles were taut all over her body. She felt the nipples of her tits thrusting against his chest in the excitement that filled her. She accepted another kiss from him, then clamped her teeth on his shoulder, tasting the saltiness of his skin. His body was as sweaty as hers and she could feel the prodding of his stiffened cock against her hip. She wished he would put that cock where it would do them both some good, but she knew he would do that in his own good time. They had fucked before and she knew that his technique was good and that he knew how to heat up the stove before putting in the meat, as he liked to phrase it.
His fingers were fucking her now, moving back and forth, in and out, in a steadily accelerating rhythm. Ellen's body moved with the rhythm as though he were really fucking her. She was caught up in it, turned on by that rapid motion of his fingers through her cunt. Her legs came together in a reflex action, embracing his hand and holding it in place. He continued to move his fingers in and out, in and out, in a rapid thrust and pull and the closing of her legs increased the friction and made her cry out with a renewed pleasure that seemed to shake her like a giant hand.
At the first sign that he meant to mount her, the first motion of his body to cover hers, she opened her thighs again and made a couch of her pelvis, ready to accept him. He grunted and lifted himself to rise over her, then placed himself between her thighs and inserted his cock into her hot, wet cunt.
Ellen cried out at the invasion of his swollen, pulsing cock. He grunted again, this time with pleasure and his body settled onto hers, pushing her into the softness of the mattress. Her legs were spread wide and her knees were drawn up slightly, so that her thighs embraced him, caressed him lightly; then he began to fuck her.
His body began to move up and down in long, slow, even strokes and she gasped and cried out in pleasure again and again as the pleasure mounted in her, rising like the mercury on a hot day, filling her and running over in the form of cries and the flooding juices of her cunt, which lubricated his prick and seemed to excite him by its very presence and the copiousness with which it flowed.
"Uh!" he grunted and slowed the cadence of his strokes a little, bringing it down to a crawl in order to conserve himself and keep from coming too soon. His cock moved through her in long, slow movements and she gasped with the frustration of withheld pleasure. Her body caught the rhythm, slow as it was and she matched it, fighting to keep from pushing beyond it. Leo finally got control of himself enough so that he could afford more movement and his prick slipped through her faster. She cried out in sudden joy and her body accelerated with his. The cock filled her, stretched her, drove her to a height of pleasure that hit orgasmic intensity, then dropped off. She raised her legs and wrapped them about him, as she knew he liked her to do and hugged him with her thighs, pulling the cock more deeply into her, as though she could swallow it and all of him with her cunt and thus bring the pleasure to the height she had always sought.
His body continued to pump and work and his cock slid through her cunt in rapid strokes for some time before he slacked off again,' slowing down to a crawl, once more conserving himself and keeping from going off too soon.
Ellen felt helpless before the onslaught of pleasure that ran through her body, rising and dropping and then increasing again as he manipulated her emotions and sensations with the speed and intensity of the strokes of his prick through her cunt. She gasped and cried out, choking on her own sounds, her body responding with surges of thrusting against his body as he rammed the hard cock into her and falling back into the mattress as he pulled back. She tightened the embrace of her thighs about his waist and dug her nails into his back and shoulders as the sensations grew too intense to bear.
Then it hit the peak and she cried out in a muffled scream against his shoulder, her voice lost against his body. He grunted, his voice loud against her ear and then his cum spewed into her, hot and plentiful, the copious load of juice flooding her cunt and flowing into her womb. She cried out again as her orgasm repeated itself, only slightly muted in comparison to the big surge that had just passed; then it was over.
She lay for a while, her thighs slipping off his body, her own body going limp with exhaustion and she heaved air into her lungs in great sucking inhalations. He finally pulled off her, his cock withdrawing limply from her cunt and he lay on his back for a long while without saying anything.
Ellen came up on one elbow and reached into the drawer of her bedside table. She took out a pack of cigarettes and lit two of them, handing one to Leo. He took it without a word, but with a thank-you smile and drew a lungful of smoke. Ellen snuggled up against him, enjoying the contact of their bodies, now that their lust was all spent.
Or almost all...
"We're always good together, aren't we?" he asked softly and leaning over her, kissed her lightly on the lips. She smiled back at him, agreeing without speaking, because she was afraid she knew what was coming and she hoped he'd have the sense not to go into it this time. Just once, she'd like to spend a night with Leo and not get into that subject. But, of course, she knew he wouldn't leave it alone.
"It could be like this all the time," he said gently, but with an edge of meaning in his voice. "Just the two of us, in our own bedroom. If you'd agree to make it legal."
"Not tonight, Leo, please," she said. "You know we've been all through that so many times and it just ends up causing an argument. And I don't need that."
"All you have to do to fend it off is to say yes."
"Leo, please!" She sat up suddenly, drawing slightly away from him. Suddenly the bed seemed slightly uncomfortable, the sheets clammy with sweat. "I've told you before, if you want, to continue the way we have been, that's fine. You know I enjoy our affair. I'm fond of you and you're good in bed. But if you're looking for something more than that, with the mortgage and the joint tax returns, then you'll have to look somewhere else."
"You know, I just can't accept that," he said, blowing out a lungful of air. "I know you're more than just fond of me. I can feel it."
"God, the depth and breadth of the male ego."
"It's not that at all. I've never been conceited where women were concerned. Some women like me and some can't stand me. I know that. But I also know that you love me as much as I love you. Or almost as much," he amended, smiling. "So until you can give me a better reason than you have in the past for not wanting to marry me, I'm going to keep on asking you."
"I wish you wouldn't. I mean that, Leo. Sooner or later it's going to spoil things between us. It has to."
He laughed wryly, shaking his head. "You're really a screwy broad," he said. "I've never met a woman before who didn't like to be proposed to."
"Look, Leo," she said in an elaborately patient voice, "I'm going to go through this rosary just this once more and I hope you learn this time: I'm not going to marry you or anyone else. I don't want to get married Not ever. I have my reasons for feeling that way. I can't explain them to you, because no one but me would understand them."
"Why don't you try me?" he asked with an edge of annoyance in his voice.
She ignored the demand. "For whatever reasons I choose, I have no intention of marrying you or anyone else. Not now. Not ever. If I did, perhaps you would be the man I'd choose. I'm very fond of you. In my own way, which isn't the way of most women, I guess I love you. At any rate, you mean a good deal to me, if that helps make you feel any better. But you don't mean enough to me to make me change my mind about marriage. Nothing could make me do that. I just don't want to get married, ever. Now I'm sorry if you have trouble accepting that, darling, but you're going to have to manage it one way or another."
"You know," he said, his voice tightly controlled, "I think you owe me an explanation, Ellen."
"Do you? Well, I'm sorry, but I disagree. I can't owe you anything, because I told you before we got heavy with each other that I couldn't let you think there was any chance of our every marrying. As I recall, you found it amusing at the time."
"Sure. Because at the time you were just a girl I happened to like. I had the hots for you, because you were young and pretty, beautiful in fact and any man with blood in his veins would've wanted to ball you. So when you said that about no possibility of marriage, it struck me a little funny. Who the hell was thinking along those lines anyway? But now things are different, goddamn it. I'm in love with you and I want you for my wife. And I think that the least you can give me is your reason for refusing me."
"Well, I'm sorry," Ellen sighed. "But you're not going to get any reason except the reason you already have." Tears suddenly flooded her eyes and spilled down over her cheeks. She wiped them away with a scrub of her hand. "Jesus! Why can't you just accept it? Why do you have to make things hard?"
"If you mean why do I have to make it hard for you to refuse my proposal, I intend to make it more than hard. I intend to make it impossible." He lay there looking at her for a while; then he moved toward her. She felt his hands on her arms. He pulled her against him, plucked the cigarette from her fingers and leaned away from her for a moment. When he came back, he had disposed of both the cigarettes. He pulled her against him. She remained stiff and unyielding for a moment, then softened. "I'm sorry, honey," he said. "The last damned thing in the world I want to do is make you cry. I want to make you laugh. I want to make you smile and laugh all the time, for the rest of your life."
"I know," she said, allowing herself to luxuriate in the warmth and sympathy he offered. She turned her body slightly, twisted her head around and kissed him. He took her in his arms and kissed her back, thrusting his tongue deeply into her mouth and moving it over hers.
She felt stirrings of excitement. And she knew he was quite a man. She knew that from experience and she intended to make him forget his obsession with marriage, if only for a little while. He was enough man so that even though he had just fucked her once, he'd be able to get it up again if she offered him the proper stimulation.
She broke off from their embrace and pressed him back on the bed. Then she bent down over his body and began to suck his cock. It was something she had done for him many times before, but it always seemed as though she were doing it for the first time. Because he always reacted as though the nicest girl in town had tried to rape him behind the altar of her father's church. She knew he loved it and she loved doing it for him.
Brushing back her long blonde hair so that it wouldn't get in the way of what she was doing, or in the way of his view of her as she did it, she took his cock, still limp but growing slightly stiff at the touch of her hands and blew a puff of warm air onto it. That made it stiffen just a little more. Then she stuck out a wet, pink tongue and began to lick the tip of it softly.
He was Old Faithful and he didn't fail her this time. His cock began to stir at this first gentle touch of her tongue. He even gave a little grunt of pleasure. Ellen felt his body tense up and she knew that she was going to succeed, at least for the present, in making him forget his arguments about .marriage. She pushed back his foreskin and moved her tongue up and down the length of his shaft, bringing him to a higher pitch of excitement. Her saliva glistened like silver along the slowly stiffening cock. As her head moved down the length of his prick, she continued, bringing her face down to his crotch and licking his balls. She gave them a good washing, working up a mouthful of spit as her tongue went dry. Then she kissed the wet sac and licked his crotch, tasting the salt of his sweat and feeling the bristly texture of his body hair against her tongue. As she drew her head away she felt a strand of that hair caught on her tongue and she pulled it away with her fingers. Then she began to lick his prick again, starting at the root this time and working up toward the tip of the cock.
As she reached the tip for the third time running, having moved up and down the length of his cock three times, she took the head of it into her mouth, pressing her lips lightly about the circumference of the shaft just behind the ridge. She touched the tip of the cockhead with her tongue, moving it lightly back and forth, back and forth and she felt the cock stiffen at the stimulation her tongue provided.
"U-uh!" he grunted suddenly, his body stiffening and arching slightly so that his cock was pushed back more deeply into her mouth. She accepted it without recoiling, then let it slide away again as he sank back to the mattress. She pressed her tongue more firmly against the tip of the cock and massaged it with firm licking motions that had him twisting and grunting with pleasure.
She had decided to let him go off in her mouth this time. Sometimes she did it that way and sometimes she would only get him hard by this method, then let him fuck her. But she knew that, while he had no definite preferences in the matter, he liked to come in her mouth sometimes and that it would be a nice treat for him this time. It would also help to make him feel more mellow and thus keep his mind off his obsession with marriage.
She increased the pressure of her tongue against his cock and began to move it farther back toward the ridge. She grazed the ridge slightly with her teeth and that produced a sudden surge of tautness from his muscles. Then she slid her lips and teeth back along the shaft, making him grunt and cry out with joy and moved her tongue over the crown lightly, then with increased vigor and intensity. His muscles tightened again and he grunted and she saw his fist clenching and opening reflexively as she continued to lick the head, the most sensitive area of his cock.
His cock was stiff enough now so that he could have gotten into her and fucked, if she had intended that. But she had made up her mind and she didn't change it, though she was tempted. She was still pretty hot herself and the feel of that stiffening and growing prick inside her mouth was turning her on all the more. Still, she had started this for his enjoyment and she would go through with it as planned.
She sucked and licked and pulled with her mouth, moving her tongue and lips with educated ease. He grunted again and moved his hips in a tight little circle of reflexive motion and she knew that she had him near the point of coming.
She maneuvered her head and her mouth, around to a position that allowed her to concentrate on the cockhead. As she had avoided it in the beginning, to make things last a little longer, now she concentrated on it, determined to make him come as soon as possible. And to make him enjoy it with maximum intensity.
She licked and sucked some more and made little liquid noises with her mouth, working up fresh supplies of spit. She knew those liquid sounds turned Leo on and she wanted him turned on as heavily as possible this time.
"Uh! Oh, Jesus!" he cried out, his body stiffening again, that fist she had noticed before clenching until his knuckles turned white. She thought she heard his knuckles crack a little and she felt a thrill of joy at the way she was getting to him.
She shifted the position of her body slightly and pulling her head back slightly to get a breath of air, she pulled her lips in over the edges of her teeth and closed her mouth over the head of Leo's prick once more. Then she began to move back and forth, rocking on her knees, using her lips and the pressure of her jaws and teeth, like a cunt, caressing his cockhead firmly and fully, dragging back and forth across it again and again, creating a friction that turned him into a mass of quivering protoplasm in just moments.
She had known it wouldn't take long after she started that and it didn't. In moments his cock was straining with stiffness and was beginning to whip and flex in her mouth in that way that told her he was about to go off. And she recognized that indescribable but distinctive taste that told her he was about to come.
And come he did, just moments later, his cock flinging a load of cum into her mouth that threatened to blow the back of her head off. She choked on it and coughed and hacked for a moment, but she managed to dive back in again right away. She took the cock deeply into her mouth and sucked hard, milking it for all it was worth. Another gob of cum shot into her throat and she swallowed it more deftly than the first one and then one more, just a little one, but it was good to wring it from him.
He grunted and thrashed a little and swore in a tight, loud voice that seemed to echo from the walls of her bedroom. She swallowed that last gob of cum, then relaxed a moment. The rocking motion had tired her back and legs a bit and her mouth and tongue were a little sore, too.
She only rested a moment, then began to lick the cum that had remained on his cock. She could taste the remains of the fluid and she licked it away lightly, softly, moving her tongue over the head and shaft of his prick with loving care. He lay there still for a long while as she ministered to his softening cock.
"You sure sire good at that," he said and she laughed softly.
"You mean I'm a natural-born cocksucker?" she asked with a lilt of laughter in her voice. He flushed a bit, because of course that was exactly what he had meant, if one didn't mind putting it in such an ugly manner. And also because she knew he didn't like her to talk that way. At least not when he wasn't at the height of passion. Then it excited him. But she was a lady to him and his girl and he didn't ordinarily like to hear her use such language. And she only did it occasionally to get his goat. She laughed and he relaxed and smiled, conceding her her little victory.
"Damn, you really know how to tire a man out," he mumbled.
"Then go to sleep, darling," she said softly. "There's no reason for you not to. You're safe in my bed and you can sleep until morning. Tomorrow is Saturday and there's no school.
All day."
As he drifted off, she lay beside him, stretching out and making herself comfortable. It felt good after the cramped kneeling position she had assumed for the purpose of sucking his cock. And it was good to lie beside him. He was a good man. She had always thought so. That was why she had selected him for her primary lover, four months ago when, fresh from college, with her teaching credential in her hand, she had come to work at Paul Revere High. She had looked over the unmarried teachers in the faculty lounge and had selected Leo not only because he seemed a little more attractive than most of them and certainly more stable and mature than the men in her own age group, but because she had sensed in him a kindness that had attracted her.
She thought about what it would be like if she could marry him. It would be so good, she thought and felt tears well up in her eyes as she thought once more of the impossibility of it. There was no way, no way she could be his wife, or any other man's wife. That had been denied her from the first. Or from the time she was fourteen. Had that really been when it had begun? she wondered. Or had it started in her at some earlier time? Not that it mattered. That horrible thing that had happened eight years before, when she had been just fourteen, had been the thing that had triggered it all, the thing that had made her what she was. She tried to drag her mind away from it and go to sleep, but it was no use. As always, her mind insisted on returning to that night, so shortly after Mama's death. And she knew that, as always, the only way she would be able to make it go away would be by going through the whole thing from the beginning, reliving it all. Then she would be able to sleep.
She had been alone in the house that night, except for her little brother Stevie. Daddy was coming home and Aunt Hortense had left them alone for a few hours. Then she had had her idea.
A nice little joke to play on Daddy...
CHAPTER TWO
That was all it was meant to be. Just a nice little joke on Daddy, something they would both laugh over. And maybe Daddy would let her get up and have a cup of coffee with him and they could talk. They had done so little talking. That was all. Just a nice little joke.
He was coming back to town to report his sales and to attend a meeting of the salesmen and it would be the first time she had seen him since Mama's funeral, when he had been so dazed by everything that she had been afraid to talk to him.
And so, being alone in the house, she had decided it would be a cute joke if she got into the double bed in the master bedroom and waited there until Daddy showed up.
She had meant to stay awake until he got home, but the hours went by and she caught herself dozing off time and again and sometimes she wasn't sure whether she had been asleep for a few minutes or an hour. And finally she told herself that it was all right, that Daddy would wake her up when he came in. And so she let herself drift off to sleep...
She woke to feel the bed sway under a sudden weight. It scared her at first, waking her suddenly in the darkness of that room that wasn't hers. Then she remembered the joke and she knew that it must be Daddy who had sat on the edge of the bed and made it sway like that and she opened her eyes and saw his bulk there, heard one shoe fall to the floor and then the other. There was a distinctive smell about him and she recognized it from countless other times. It was the harsh, strong smell of whiskey.
She didn't mind the smell. It was a smell that reminded her of Daddy and she had always liked it, though she knew it was also a smell that meant he wasn't himself, or rather that he was the self that she couldn't trust to be in possession of his faculties.
She had always loved Daddy so much and when Mama had died, the only thing she had seen that might come from that was that he and she might be closer than they had ever been before. It had hurt her to think that, because she had felt a stab of guilt, as though she had been glad to be rid of Mama, so that she could have Daddy more to herself. But Mama's death had been a terrible blow to her and she knew that she hadn't really been glad at all. And besides, she had always wondered whether Daddy really loved her at all.
She had meant to speak to Daddy there in the darkness, but had held back for some reason. She liked this thing that was happening, their nearness and she didn't want to break it up by speaking. Not just yet.
Daddy stood up and took off his clothes. She knew then that she should speak to him, but she was afraid. Afraid that he might be angry with her for staying there, silent, while he had undressed. She lay still in the bed, hoping now that he wouldn't see her and she would be able to sneak away when he was asleep.
He piled onto the bed so hard it squeaked and she thought for a moment that it might collapse under the impact. She heard him breathing loudly; then he rolled over onto his back and began to snore. The whiskey smell was stronger than before. She still liked that smell and now the feeling of his body heat and she hesitated for a moment before leaving the bed.
She hesitated just an instant too long.
Daddy turned over again, fitful in his sleep and his arm dropped across her. She could feel the weight of his arm on her young tits and her heart pounded with sudden apprehension and with some other emotion she couldn't name. She lay still and felt his arm tense up slightly, as though he were only dimly aware of her presence, still under the fog of liquor and still asleep, but with just enough awareness to know that she was there. Or that someone was there.
Ellen lay very still, trying to quiet her breathing, wishing that her heart would stop its frantic pounding. Then suddenly Daddy made a noise deep in his throat, an animal kind of growl that scared her.
His arm moved, as though he were testing the feel of her body, unconsciously trying to determine whether there were really someone under his arm or not. Then the arm drew back and she felt his hand close over one of her tits, squeezing it through her nightie.
The feeling was like nothing she had ever known before. She bit her lip to keep from crying out with surprise and the new kind of fear that gripped at her bowels. At the same time she felt other things, all kinds of emotions that were too powerful to deny and too novel to catalogue. She was frightened of that hand on her tit, but at the same time she liked it and didn't want it to go away. But was it possible to be afraid of something and like it at the same time? It was all so darned confusing. She remembered when she had been little she had been afraid of going down the slide, but at the same time she had liked it.
But that had been different from this. She couldn't decide how it was different, but she knew that it was.
Daddy moved closer to her and his hand slipped down over her body, leaving her tit to move down over her belly, still sliding over the outside of her nightie, until it came to rest on her hip. Her nightie had hiked up a little as she had been sleeping and it wasn't much below her hips. Daddy's hand moved down a little more and her whole body jerked with the shock of feeling his hand on her bare flesh.
She liked the feeling, though she was frightened by it, too. She lay very stiff and still, waiting to see what was going to happen next. She didn't know why she felt that something else was going to happen, but she did.
She had heard about sex, of course, from the other girls in school and had even been told something about the mechanics of it by some older girls. But she didn't think about that now. At least not consciously. She only knew that Daddy's hand, so hot and strong-feeling, so heavy on the bare flesh of her thigh, was the most exciting thing she had ever known and she wanted more to happen and of course, more did happen.
"Uh... honey... mmm... " Sounds and shreds of words came from Daddy's lips, soaked in whiskey and almost incomprehensible with the thickness of his voice. "Love... swee... " He pushed her nightie up above her hips and suddenly she was really scared, too scared to move and at the same time too scared that whatever was happening might not happen, or that she was only dreaming it and would wake up before the dream came to its natural conclusion. But no dream had ever been this vivid.
When he had pushed up her nightie, Daddy's hand moved up from her hip to rest on the sparsely haired cunt that nestled like a new jewel between her thighs. She had noted the changes in her body over the past several months, the changes that seemed to be taking place with frightening speed and of course, the conversations that she had had with those older girls had given her some idea of the meaning and purpose of those changes. But this was the first time that a man's hand had ever touched her there and the feeling that went through her body was so intense that it almost made her cry out with fright. Her heart felt as though it would burst through her rib cage and she gasped with terror and with other feelings she didn't know how to name.
"Love ya... sweethear... " Daddy kept on mumbling and she suddenly knew that he was too drunk to know who she was, that he probably thought he was in bed with Mama and even as drunk as he was, even only half-conscious, he meant to... to- Oh, God, she had to stop him!
His hand stroked her cunt insistently and she felt a flood of heat through her body, a feeling that weakened her, made her muscles turn to taffy and refuse to obey her. She tried to push him away, but he was so powerful he didn't even seem to notice her struggles.
He rose over her suddenly and she felt a welling of panic that almost choked her whole being with its overwhelming intensity. She opened her mouth to cry out, to tell him it was her, Ellen, not Mama.
But before she could make any sound, his mouth covered hers and she felt his tongue move over her own and the fumes of the whiskey were almost overwhelming. And his hand did more of those things to her cunt and suddenly she was all wet down there and she didn't know why, because no one had ever told her about that before and she was frightened, because for a moment she thought that he might have hurt her and she might be bleeding.
Then his body covered hers and somehow his legs had moved between her own, pushing her thighs apart and she was helpless now, completely helpless and she couldn't even make herself care, because she loved her daddy and this was the first time she had ever been really close to him and she didn't even care if it was wrong, she wanted it to happen and she admitted it to herself. She wanted it to happen and she wasn't going to struggle any more, or make him stop, or try to tell him who she was. She was going to let it happen. She was going to help it happen.
There was something nudging her cunt, something long and hard. She found the feel of it exciting, though she didn't know why at first. Only a moment later did she remember what those older girls had told her and then she was all the more excited by the feel of that cock against her belly, excited and weak with pleasure and she knew what had to happen next, because she had doubted the things those girls had told her before, but it was all happening the way they had told her and so the rest must be true as well. And they had told her that it would hurt at first, that it would hurt a lot the first time, but that every girl had to go through that before the good times could come to her. Well, she thought, she didn't care how much it hurt. She wasn't going to make any noise. She wasn't going to resist any of it. Even the pain would be good, if it came from Daddy.
She felt his fumbling, his hand moving between her legs in an uncoordinated way. She felt the thing he was fumbling with, hard and swollen and the feeling of it there excited and scared her. The closer she got to the moment when he would do something irrevocable to her, the more frightened she became. She bit her lip and closed her eyes and lay as still as a statue, remembering her promise to herself not to resist anything he might do.
She felt his cock, just the tip of it between her cuntlips and she held her breath, waiting for what must follow. Then he exerted a pressure, grunting boozily as he did so. Ellen smelled the grunt, the breath expelled carrying to her nostrils the stench of whiskey. For the first time the smell had different connotations for her, connotations of apprehension and a touch of disgust, which made her feel guilty. This was Daddy. She had always wanted him to love her and to be close to her and now he would. She had no right to feel any disgust. This was a great moment for her and she should appreciate it.
She lay still, gritting her teeth against the expected pain as Daddy thrust his cock between her cuntlips. He grunted again, as though in surprise at the resistance he encountered; then he thrust all the harder, as though annoyed by this, minor difficulty.
A cry came from deep in Ellen's throat at the sudden shot of pain in her cunt. She gritted her teeth all the harder, choking off the cry, biting it in two and refusing it the expression it had almost won by stealth.
Daddy paused a moment in what he was doing. One hand patted her cheek lightly, as though he were apologizing to her for the pain. He mumbled something she couldn't understand; then his hips thrust once again and drove the swollen cock deep into her young cunt.
This time she did cry out a little, her voice coming tightly from deep inside her throat, but Daddy didn't seem to notice it. The pain was greater than before and she felt something tear, a ripping of tissue that was not only painful but scary. It seemed as though he had split her open.
She lay rigid and still as his cock filled her cunt, the pain pulsing in her like a living entity. She turned her head to one side and tried to still the frantic beating of her heart by sheer will power.
Something was trickling between her legs, something hot and liquid and she realized with a fresh shiver of fear that he had made her bleed. The sharp soreness between her legs took on a fresh meaning, a fresh terror as she felt the blood run down in big drops to soak into the sheet under her. She hoped that Daddy wouldn't notice.
He didn't. His cock began to slide into her cunt slowly and he made little grunts of pleasure deep in his throat, grunts that carried to her more wisps of the odor of his whiskey-soaked breath. She tried to keep from whimpering, held in the stock of pain that was building in her tiny body. She felt closer to Daddy than she had ever felt in her life and she wasn't going to let a little pain, or for that matter a lot of pain, ruin things.
He likes it, she thought as he pushed and pulled, his cock sliding in and out of her cunt in luxurious thrusts. She felt the flood of warmth that made up for the pain a hundredfold. He likes it! I'm making him feel good! I'm giving him pleasure! She was so happy she could hardly believe it. Right at this moment she was the closest person in the world to her daddy, she was giving him pleasure and no one else was, or could. She was more intimate with him than she had ever dreamed she could be. And she felt a flood of delight so intense it seemed almost to burn her insides with its heat.
The pain in her cunt was almost forgotten, although it raged unabated. It was no match for the feelings, the emotions, she was enjoying as the bringer of pleasure and satisfaction to her father.
His prick slid through her cunt in a steady cadence. She had wondered what it would be like, all those times the older girls had told her about it, trying to give the impression that they knew all about it from firsthand experience. She had believed them at the time, but now that she knew what it was like, she knew they had been putting her on. None of them had ever had this, or they would have been better able to describe it fully. It was just so good, so wondrous in every way. Even the pain couldn't detract from it and of course, she knew that the pain was a temporary thing, something that would go away in the future, but she knew that the emotional satisfaction would never go away. That was something she would always have, with her daddy.
He made little grunts and sounds of satisfaction as his cock slid through her, dragging its friction into her tissues and making her feel some of the physical pleasure now, too, pleasure mixed with the pain that still wouldn't go away, that was still as potent, if not quite as sharp, as when he had first torn his way into her virgin cunt. She almost wished she could feel the pain again and with it the sensation of his cock entering her for the very first time.
He was accelerating his motions, his cock sliding through her with greater speed and force, the increase seeming almost mechanical, as though his body were wired and working independently of his mind.
The feeling of his prick moving through her snatch was a strange and awesome thing, a mixture of pain and pleasure that was totally new to Ellen. She found her own body responding without conscious thought, her hips working rhythmically, caught up in the cadence of Daddy's fucking movements and even though it hurt, she was also filled with a tingling and intense pleasure and she gasped with the power of it as her skin puckered into gooseflesh and her insides seemed to melt with the sweetness of it.
"Uh... uh... uh... " She made little moaning sounds, hardly more than sighs, her breath vocalized as his cock slid through her and she pumped her hips upward to intensify the friction. "Oh! Oh!" Her voice grew more intense with the pleasure and with the pain, which seemed to be tied in with the pleasure as though they were twins, the feelings joining and ruling her very being. She pumped and surged in time with Daddy's thrusts, feeling the cock slide through her cunt with relentless fury, until he grunted aloud, his voice seeming amplified in her ear, scary in its volume and the distortion it took oh from proximity.
"AH! OH! CHRIST! SHIT!" Daddy roared and although the loudness and the words he was using scared her a little, they excited her, too and the pleasure seemed to hit some kind of peak, a wild and shimmering pinnacle that turned her whole body into a writhing mass for seconds that seemed eternally long, frustratingly brief.
And then something hot and liquid flooded through her, spewing from Daddy's throbbing cock, something that seemed to fill her cunt and run in a torrent down inside of her. And she cried out again as the pleasure peaked once more; then she felt herself float down from the peak like a feather on the air.
Daddy's body went limp atop hers. He lay on her for a long time, his lungs sucking in blasts of air and she smelled the whiskey on his breath and once more it was just the smell of Daddy and the warmest and most comforting smell in the whole world. And there were other smells mixed with it, smells that were new and wonderful and that she knew must have something to do with what had just happened between them and she delighted in the weight of him atop her and the feel of his limp prick still in her cunt.
Then he rolled off her body and lay on his back, still breathing with heavy noises. After a while, his breathing slowed and became more evenly spaced; then she knew he had fallen asleep.
She had to leave the bed. She knew that, though she wanted to stay with him, this night of all nights. She knew that Daddy would never have done this thing if he'd been sober. And she knew that if he found her lying here and realized what had happened, he'd be furious about it and probably feel guilty, too. She had to go back to her own bed and she would in a little while. Right now she just wanted to lie here beside him for a while, just to stay near him and feel the warmth of his body and the warmth of her own glowing feelings. And that was what she was thinking when she drifted off to sleep.
She woke once during the wee hours of the morning to see Daddy standing over her and as her eyes fluttered open, she thought she saw, by the light from the window, a curious and stricken look on his face. But she didn't even remember, in that instant, where she was, or what had happened and she smiled up at him softly and closed her eyes again, murmuring her love in a meaningless syllable and drifting off to sleep once more.
The next time she woke up it was daylight. She saw the sun flooding in through the window and she stretched, wondering why she felt so sore physically and so good otherwise. Then she remembered, suddenly, what had happened and she waited for the feeling of guilt and remorse that she knew she should feel over having been fucked by her own father. But the feelings didn't come. She felt only a rosy glow, like a bride on the first morning of her marriage and she smiled to herself, a smile with the guilt of a slightly naughty little girl.
And then she remembered that she had intended to leave Daddy's bed and go back to her own and hadn't done it. And she worried for the first time, worried about the possible consequences of her failure to leave the scene of her little sin. She wondered just how it would affect Daddy, or how it had affected him, since he must've seen her when he got up and had possibly put two and two together.
But he might not even remember what had happened. She took comfort in that thought. Certainly, if he had remembered it, he would've awakened her and probably given her a good licking. Yes, of course, that was it. He just hadn't remembered what had happened between them. He'd been practically unconscious through the whole thing anyway. She felt a flood of relief at that thought. She wouldn't be punished after all. It had been such a beautiful thing that had happened and well worth any punishment he might choose to inflict upon her, but it would be nice not to have to go through the punishment. And he need never know what he and she had shared. That would be her secret, her little tender secret.
Then, slowly, stealthily, like a thief on padded feet, came the memory of her awakening during the night. She had a fleeting glimpse, like a single frame in a movie, of Daddy's face hovering over her, the expression weird and wild and made even more odd by the cast and angle of the light from the window and she gasped, because the image, though brief, was so intensely real.
And then the image came back and she knew somehow, even in that moment, before all the horror of that day was revealed to her, that she would never be able to banish that image again, that that face would stare down at her for the rest of her life and she would always be a little girl, cowering under its accusing gaze.
She got out of bed and started to walk toward the doorway. It had to be very early, because the sunlight was slanting against the wall instead of striking the floor, as it did later in the morning.
"Daddy?" Her voice sounded strained and odd in her own ears and she looked around quickly, as though the sound of her own word had startled her. "Daddy?" she tried again. "Are you here?" She felt as she had once when she had been a little girl and had thought she was left alone in the house, caught up in a repressed and quiet terror that wouldn't even let her act scared. She looked around at the walls, the familiar walls that suddenly seemed strange and different to her, as though something had changed her home and everything she had always depended on.
She went through the whole house, even looking in Stevie's room. Stevie lay in bed, sleeping peacefully, the covers drawn up to his chin, one rose-tinted cheek bunched up like a bursting-ripe apple. She closed the door silently and continued her search. But Daddy wasn't anywhere in the house. She looked in the bathroom and the kitchen and even on the service porch.
She felt uneasy and relieved at once, wondering where he had gone and what he would be thinking and glad that she didn't have to face him just yet.
She went into her own room and got out some clothes; then she went into the bathroom and washed and put on her clothes. It was early yet, but she didn't feel like going back to bed again for some reason. She felt edgy, alert, with a sick kind of vividness attached to everything. It was like it must be when you've taken some drug, she thought.
She still had a dim hope that Daddy had forgotten everything and it occurred to her that she had better change the sheets on the bed, because if he had forgotten it, she didn't want blood-stained linen to remind him. So she went back into the master bedroom and stripped the bed, folded the sheets and carried them to the extra bathroom, the one that was attached directly to the bedroom, where the dirty clothes hamper was kept.
She had to brace the sheets against the wall to keep from dropping them while she opened the bathroom door. They were bunched up under her chin and she had to look down to hold them in place. The doorknob turned under her hand and she pushed. The door opened.
For the rest of her life she would remember that sight. Even more vividly than the sight of Daddy's face staring down at her in the middle of the night, she remembered what greeted her in that bathroom.
It was so horrible that for a moment she did nothing. She couldn't even scream, because the muscles in her jaw and mouth and throat were all paralyzed by shock. She could only stand there and stare at the awful scene before her. She had the feeling that if she didn't do something, turn away or run or scream or something that would work off the terror and the feeling of sheer horror, she would go insane. She stood and looked and tried to close her eyes, but the scene held her gaze like some horrid glue.
Daddy knelt beside the bathtub, his head half-immersed in water that had turned murky black with blood. His face, which was turned toward Ellen and his whole body, seemed shriveled, like something that had been shed by the creature that inhabited it. His skin was white and dry-looking and wrinkled and his eyes were shrunken into his skull. Both his arms hung in the water. He was completely naked and his clothes lay in a disorderly pile next to his body. There was a straight razor lying on the floor, too.
She finally managed to turn away. It was like trying to move in a bog of molasses, her body turning in slow motion away from the grotesque tableau in the bathroom. She got her face against the doorjamb and closed her eyes and made a strangled sound deep in her throat that was something like screaming. In a way it was better than screaming, because Stevie couldn't hear it. But in her mind and in her guts she was screaming and it helped to get the worst, the more ghastly part of it, out of her.
She stumbled into the bedroom again and fell across the bed, the sheets still clutched in her arms. She didn't know how long she lay there, but she sobbed and cried and even vomited before she pulled herself up.
She went into Stevie's bedroom and got him up and dressed him and sent him outside to play. He was delighted that he didn't have to have any breakfast before going outside. Somehow she managed to act normal enough to fool him. He gave no sign of suspecting that anything was wrong. Ellen amazed herself.
When she had Stevie safely outside, she went to the phone and called Aunt Hortense. She couldn't think of anyone else to call. She didn't want to call the police or anyone like that, because she knew Daddy was dead and she knew that no one could do him any good now and she didn't want them tramping through the house while she was still there.
When she was finished with the call, she hung up and went into her own room and sat in the chair near the window. She felt an emptiness in her and she had somehow managed to turn off her mind and her emotions for a while. She knew that the feelings would come soon enough and the thoughts, too and she didn't want to think or feel any sooner than necessary, because when she did think and when she did feel, she would have to think and feel about the thing she had done and that was going to be the most horrible thing she had ever had to consider. Because she had done something worse than she could have believed possible, something worse than she could even have imagined before today.
She had murdered Daddy...
CHAPTER THREE
When the bell rang for the end of third period, Ellen uttered a silent prayer of thanks and picked up her papers and grade book. She could think of nothing but the snack break ahead and the cup of coffee that she craved. The students filed out the door in a ragged order and she took up her key ring, ready to follow them into the hall and lock the classroom. But then she saw Don Jethro standing next to his desk and she knew that he was going to talk to her about the grade she had given him on the recent composition exam. She wondered if she could get rid of him and talk another time, but that, she thought, wasn't a very professional thought and so she decided to head him off.
He was a remarkably handsome boy, in a dark and moody way. He wore the same kind of clothes as always, blue jeans, none too clean, though not quite dirty, a faded yellow sport shirt with no undershirt to hide the scraggly wisps of hair that showed through the unbuttoned top half of the garment. His hair was raven black and thick and wavy. He didn't wear it as long as some of the kids were doing, but it was full and bushy. He had a cocky look about him which had made one of the other young teachers remark to Ellen that Don was the only male she had ever seen who could swagger sitting down.
Now, standing with his weight thrown onto one booted foot, he looked like a swagger waiting to happen. And when he came up toward her, she felt a pang of desire so strong it almost made her wince. Don had a reputation around the school. "Cockhound" was what the other students called him and he had earned the nickname by managing to be hauled into court for statutory rape twice by the time he was a junior. Even the girls who had the sense to shun him obviously yearned for his company and it was just as obvious that Don knew it and took an amused pride in his ability to excite desire in the female breast. And the female cunt.
There was a gleam in his eyes as he approached Ellen that she found too easy to interpret and too hard to ignore. He gave her his million-dollar smile, the one that was supposed to make all females go weak in the knees and that was not without effect in this case.
"Hey, Miss Land, can I talk to you 'bout sump'n?" he asked, letting his eyes flick up and down over her body once. Ellen had worn a pantsuit that morning, but his gaze made her feel as though she were wearing a thin miniskirt with nothing under it. She cursed herself for the slight blush she couldn't avoid and nodded curtly. He smiled again, letting her know that he knew why she found it necessary to be curt. "It's 'bout that grade on the last test," he said. "Jeez, did you have to give me a D?"
"I didn't give you anything, Don," she said coolly. "You gave yourself a D. All I did was record the mark for you. That's all any teacher does."
"But, jeez, Miss Land," he said, standing just a little closer to her than was quite proper. "I didn't think I did that bad."
"Well, I'm afraid I did think so and still do and I can only grade you according to what I see in your work, Don." Ellen cursed him silently for making her wonder whether a step back on her part would be a rebuke or a concession.
"Well, God," he said, grinning as though he could read her mind.
Oh, God, Ellen thought, am I that easy to read ? Can they all see it in me? It just wasn't fair. It was bad enough being like she was, without having them all know it, as though they could smell it in her. She knew that she had to get away, that she had to get rid of him before the symptoms became even more embarrassing.
"All right, Don," she said a little breathlessly. "I'll tell you what. You do a paper on any of the subjects covered in the essay questions I asked on the test and I'll consider raising your grade. But it has to be a good paper and it had better be original."
"Sure," he said with mock enthusiasm. His irony bordered on sarcasm, but she decided to ignore it. "Sure, I'll do it, an' it'll be original, too, Miss Land. You know I ain't a cheater."
"Yes, I know, Don," she said. And it was true, too. Don had never showed enough interest in his grades to bother cheating. He gave the impression of one who allowed himself to be schooled because it was easier than hassling the stupid law that told him to be there. And perhaps because it brought him into close contact with nubile young girls.
She almost forgot about Don for the rest of the day. She tried to concentrate on the lessons she was teaching to exclude him from her mind and nearly succeeded in doing so. But he kept peeking slyly over the edge of her mind and she felt an itch every time she thought about him. She knew the itch wouldn't be scratched that night, at least not by Leo. He had college classes three nights a week and Monday was one of those nights. If he did come over it would be after the class let out at ten and since he had just spent most of the weekend with her and would probably be tired on a Monday night, she doubted she would see him.
No, she thought, chiding herself, I won't! I'll stay home and be decent, damnit!
She might've kept her promise to herself if she'd been left alone. She wasn't having it easy, but she was showing every sign of pulling through the night without cracking.
She went straight home from school. She needed margarine and sugar, but she didn't allow herself to stop and get them, because she didn't trust herself to get out of the car and still go home. She knew there were bars and restaurants and coffee shops around the supermarket and if she stopped the car she would almost certainly yield to the temptation to enter one of them; then she knew she wouldn't go home. She'd look for and find, a man.
So she told herself that she'd just have to live without those two staples until tomorrow. She parked her car in the garage that the apartment complex furnished and then went straight upstairs and let herself in.
She locked the door and put her grade book and papers on the couch; then, without waiting, she went into the bedroom and took off her clothes. She put on her robe, went into the bathroom and turned on both taps in the tub. Then she poured a healthy helping of bath salts under the steaming flood and watched them dissolve. She went into the kitchen to get a Coke, then said, "The hell with it," and poured herself a drink instead. She poured a good thumping slug of bourbon into a glass and topped it with the Coke she had meant to drink by itself. She didn't bother with ice cubes, but went straight into the bathroom, sipping her highball. She took off her robe and swished her toe around to test the heat of the water, turned the cold tap down just a little and sat on the closed lid of the john while the tub filled.
Her bath was a help, relaxing her, in tandem with the drink, enough so that she was able to keep her mind off of Don Jethro for ten minutes at a time.
After her bath she went into the living room, curled up on the couch, still wearing her robe and nothing else and graded some papers. She was actually getting pretty proud of herself. She was going to get through the night. She could feel it. There was the rest of that bottle of bourbon to help her and there was dinner to fix and to eat and the dishes to do and then the TV could keep her mind occupied until it was time to go to bed.
She had just finished the dishes and poured herself another highball, this time decently furnished with ice cubes, when she heard the knock at the door.
The sound of it startled her and made her tighten like a fugitive. She started so violently that she spilled a few drops of her drink on the kitchen floor. She put the drink on the table and went into the living room, then stopped in front of the door and said softly, "Who is it?" Too softly, apparently, because there was no answer. So she asked again, this time a bit more loudly.
"Me," a masculine voice said, muffled by the door. It sounded like Leo and she felt a sudden gladdening, because if Leo had decided to skip class and come to see her, it was going to be all right; she wasn't going to have to face this horrid night and the horrid temptations and drives in her own mind and body, alone. She opened the door without hesitation and without bothering to attach the chain.
It took her a moment to see, in the dimness of the hallway, who it was. But she had been so certain that it was Leo that she yanked the door wide open and smiled broadly at the tall figure and of course, it wasn't Leo. Leo was in college, where he always was on Monday evenings between seven and ten o'clock. She should've known that and now she wondered if she had known it all along.
The figure in the hallway was the lanky, swaggering figure of Don Jethro. He smiled back at her and the gleam in his eye was so frank now that it reminded Ellen that she was wearing only a thin robe and that it wasn't fastened as securely as it should've been. She pulled it closed around her.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice carrying more than curtness now. It was a voice full of hostility. Don's smile didn't even flicker under the poisonous spray of her tone. It bloomed like an impervious weed.
"I came over to ask your advice on that paper you wanted me to write, Miss Land." His eyes went up and down her figure and she pulled the robe even more tightly about her, thinking only of the necessity of keeping it closed and not at all of what the tautness of the cloth did to reveal her figure.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow." She was suddenly aware of the fact that the door was wide-open, that she hadn't used the chain and that there was nothing keeping him from coming right in if he chose to. She place a hand on the knob and was about to swing the door partly closed when Don decided to accept the implied invitation. He brushed past her and she felt the hardness of his body for an instant.
"Don, I said we'll talk about it tomorrow," she said as firmly as she could. Her voice was a little slurred and she wished that she were more accustomed to drinking and that the whiskey had had less effect on her. But it had been only one drink and she really couldn't blame the whiskey for her lack of control.
"Oh, come on," Don said. "I just wanted to ask you a couple questions about it, Miss Land. Nothin' wrong with that, is there?" He gave her a half-smile, half-knowing grin. "You got comp'ny?" He asked the question in a perfectly innocent tone, but the grin and the way she was dressed, left nothing to her imagination.
"No, I don't have any company," she said. "And I don't want any. Now will you please leave? You must know, Don, that this isn't at all proper behavior, coming to a female teacher's apartment in the middle of the night-" She bit her lip. Why had she said a female teacher? It was improper with any teacher, at least under these circumstances. It had been a slip and it had told him what she was thinking about, if he hadn't known it already.
He just grinned more widely than before.
"What do you think people would think if someone went by right now and saw you in here with me in my robe?" God, she was making things worse with everything she said!
"Well, I know how to prevent that," he said. He walked toward her, his heavy black boots clomping over the carpet. His presence was so overpowering and her own emotions so intimidating, that she stepped back reflexively, which he must've been counting on. He reached over with one foot and shoved the door hard. It slammed noisily, making Ellen jump a bit.
"Now, listen, Don," she said. "That was stupid. I don't know what you have in your mind right now, but if you don't get out of here right now, I'm going to call- "
"Shit," he said. The word shocked her, surprised her so badly that she froze, silent and unmoving, while he let his grin turn to a contemptuous sneer. "You ain't gonna call nobody or nothing, Miss Land," he said. "You don't want me to leave and you know it. You think you're talkin' to some dumb asshole who don't know what it's all about? You think just because I'm a little younger'n you I don' know where it's at, Teach?" He took a step toward her and she stepped back again. Her body was aching with tension and with something else she didn't want to think about. She felt a creeping dampness between her legs and she cursed her own lack of control.
"Get out of here," she said in a shaky voice. "If you don't leave this second I'll scream."
"Bullshit. You'd scream if I did leave," he chuckled. He was so goddamn sure of himself. She hated him for it, but at the same time it made him even more attractive. And he didn't really have to be attractive. That was the part of the joke that was on him, she thought. With her all he had to be was male. Just so he had a cock between his thighs and just so he was within reach; that was all. That would make him irresistible. But she had to resist him. She had never, no matter what, put out for a student, though in her year and a half of teaching there had been some moments when she could've yielded to the impulse easily. That was stupid, disastrous, destructive! If she started that, she'd destroy herself.
She took another step backward and felt the wall at her back. She closed her eyes and lowered her head, shaking it back and forth. "Please, Don," she begged softly, the tears rolling down her cheeks. "Please leave me alone. You don't know what you're doing, really. You must have some decency in you. For God's sake, please go away. You don't know what you're doing to me... " Her voice trailed off weakly and she stood, as resigned as a bound sacrifice on an altar, knowing that there was no way to escape his touch and no way to escape herself.
He reached out in an unhurried way, as though showing her that he knew she wouldn't stop him, or move away from him. She could've made a try at sliding along the wall to get out of his reach, then running away from him. But it was no good and she knew it. She wasn't going to escape him. She wasn't even going to try to escape him and there was no sense in trying to kid either of them any further. Don knew her well enough and she knew herself completely.
His hands closed on her arms. She felt the steely strength of his fingers through the thin material of her robe and her breath caught. A light film of sweat lay on her brow and she was shaking a bit.
"That's better," he breathed softly, pulling her forward. "Now you're bein' yourself, Teach." She felt herself lean against his hard, strong body and her breathing was suddenly shallow and weak. Her hair brushed his face and his hands tightened on her arms. His lips moved over her head and down to her forehead, then over part of her face.
She tried to pull back again, in one last, convulsive attempt at decency and self-control. It seemed to annoy him without worrying him. He pushed her back against the wall, just a little roughly; then his right hand came around and slapped her across the face. It wasn't a hard blow, but it was hard enough to sting and to impress on her the reality of his intentions.
"Now stop the bullshit, Teach," he said. "We both want the same thing and you know it. Who you think you're foolin' anyway?" He laughed. "Don't you think I know the smell of pants burnin'?"
He reached down casually and pulled at the sash of her robe. Ellen's hands moved reflexively to stop him, but she frustrated the meaningless gesture immediately. She could only earn herself another, harder slap. Her robe fell open a bit, just enough so that her body was revealed in a shadowy way. She saw the excitement light his eyes and she thought that at least she had managed to break the cool aloofness he effected.
He inserted his right hand inside the robe and even before he touched her skin she felt the intense quickening of her body. Her breath caught and then his hard, call used palm made contact with her rib cage and slid over it lightly in a kind of testing motion, as though he were trying the texture of her skin and finding it to his liking. His breathing was quicker than it had been and he was tensed, like a crouching beast of prey. Ellen felt herself grow weak all over and excited, her whole body responding to his nearness and the light touch of his hand.
He inserted the other hand and brushed her robe back with it. As her body came into view, he grinned wolfishly. "I knew you'd look great, Teach," he said. "But I never expected you to look this good."
Ellen's mouth hung open. She leaned back against the wall, too weak to stand by herself. Her whole body was tingling with desire. She resisted, somehow, the desire to fling herself at him.
He pushed the top of the robe back over her shoulders, tugging at it to make it slip between her body and the wall behind her. Ellen bit her lip, fighting back a whimper of need, intensely aware of her nakedness and the caress of his eyes. He moved one hand up and cupped a tit with it. The feel of his palm, so hard and masculine, on her tit, made her cry out with desire. Her nipple thrust itself into his hand and she suddenly moved forward, thrusting her whole body against his. Don's arms slid about her, under the robe and he pulled her in close, breathing in the perfume of her hair and the smells of her body, the musk of desire mixed with the bath salts she had put into her bath water.
His mouth covered' hers and his tongue sought hers. It needn't have sought it, because Ellen's tongue sprang toward the meeting with eagerness. She tried to lift her arms to return his embrace, but the robe, shoved behind her shoulders, bound her. She moved her arms back impatiently, .shrugging the robe off. It slid to the floor, falling in a heap at her feet. She was naked now, her body bared and offered to him. His hands slid over her skin with delight, moving down the small of her back and over the cheeks of her ass and then slipping back up again to her shoulders. Her arms tightened about his neck as he stroked her into a higher pitch of excitement, her tongue slid over his sensuously and she moved her legs forward against his, feeling the lump of his cock press against her body. He was big, she thought, big and virile and she was going to give him as much as he expected and then some.
"All right," she breathed in a defiant whisper, "if you want it, let's do it right." She broke away from him and walked to the bedroom door. She sensed rather than heard him behind her.
The bedroom was dark and she decided not to turn on the overhead light. She walked to the bed and switched on the lamp beside it, casting a soft and shadowy light across the width of her queen-size bed and throwing her own shadow along the wall and ceiling. She turned and saw Don standing in the doorway, watching her with obvious approval.
Ellen had always known she was pretty. Beautiful, some men had told her. She had seldom taken any pride in her looks, considering them as natural as the fact that she had two arms and two legs. She had thought about it, when she thought about it at all, as a fortunate thing, because with her problem it made things easier. If she had been born a homely woman it wouldn't have been as easy to get men.
But now she found herself preening, almost blossoming under the heat of his gaze. He had been so damned sure of himself and now it was nice to know that she had the power to make him take notice. Right this moment, she was sure, he was feeling lucky to be here with her, lucky to have this opportunity. And that at least took some of the sting out of the knowledge that she had been so easily available to him and that he had known it so surely.
"Hadn't you better take your clothes off?" she asked after giving him a brief glance. "Or are you planning to show me some exciting new way of doing it?" She turned down the bed covers and pulled them all the way down to the foot. When she looked at Don again he was taking off his shirt, having dropped his jacket in the chair next to the door. He tossed the shirt on top of it and took off his boots, pushing each of them off with the other foot. Then he unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down. They were tight-fitting and had to be pushed down like a bathing suit. He wore nothing under them and the sight of his cock, hard and huge, backgrounded by a healthy tuft of black hair, made her breath catch. She hoped he hadn't noticed her reaction.
She had fucked only two other males younger than herself and both of them had been completely inexperienced, emergency ports when she had been unable to find anything else. In those instances, at least she had had the satisfaction of knowing that she was in control of the situation and that she was teaching the little dears something new. This was different. Don, though he was six years younger than she, was something of a man of the world where sex was concerned. He knew the ropes and he had been experienced enough to know a nympho when he saw one. Still, she couldn't forget his youth and the necessity of knuckling under to his demands and she wanted him to be shaken up by this experience. Well, he had probably never had any girls except for very young ones, as inexperienced as the boys she had seduced those two times, unless he had been to bed with some bored prostitute. She was going to show him that he wasn't as experienced as he thought. She'd give him a time such as he'd never had before. She was determined on that score.
She lay down on the bed, enjoying the coolness of the sheet under her. She waited with concealed impatience while he tossed his pants onto the chair, then came toward her, walking with a slow and measured tread, doubtless so that she could get a good look at his manly physique and the cock that was standing out from his abdomen like a flagpole.
"You're beautiful," she said irritably. "Now why don't you stop the parade and let's get on with the main event?" Halfway through the chide she felt a stab of annoyance with herself, because he might think she was just eager to get at him, which she was and not take it the way she had intended, which was as a pin prick to his inflated ego. But the mark scored, apparently, because he scowled blackly and moved to the side of the bed. He was a pretty big boy and towering over her like that, he was a bit scary. She didn't let her fright show in her eyes or her body. She just moved over casually and let him have the edge of the bed.
He sat down, looking at her with a forced casualness that did little to conceal the excitement that pounded in his pulse and glittered in his eyes. She wondered whether he was just enjoying the anticipation of what was to come, or whether he was trying to outwait her.
She lay looking up at him, trying to hide the excitement she felt. One thing, she thought, that a woman had over a man in this kind of contest: he couldn't really hide his excitement, unless he was wearing a jock.
Don brought his legs up onto the bed and lay beside her. She turned to face him, moving over on her side and he took her in his arms and kissed her. She gave him kiss for kiss, moving her tongue over his and hugging him to her tightly as his hands moved over her shoulders and back.
One of his hands slid down past the small of her back, sending a convulsive thrill over her whole body and cupped one cheek of her ass. He pulled her pelvis in close to his and his cock prodded her like a steel rod. He started to pull her thigh up over his, apparently intending to push his cock into her and that made her wonder if he were really as much of a lover as he obviously thought. He might have had a lot of fucking experience, but he certainly lacked finesse and artistry in the matter of lovemaking.
She pulled away from him. He looked at her with a suspicious annoyance, as though he thought she might be trying to call things off, after teasing him to such a peak of excitement. Ellen, of course, couldn't have called things off even if he had been willing to allow it. Her need was worse than his, her excitement more intense than he could even understand.
She pressed him onto his back and he lay back reluctantly, waiting to see what she had in mind. "You don't have to do that yet, honey," she said softly, with a slightly taunting smile at the corners of her mouth. She rose up, pulling her knees under her and moved down to the area of his abdomen. There, she hovered over him for a moment, just long enough to let him guess at what it was she intended. She could tell from the sudden catch in his breath when the realization came to him and she also knew that he wasn't entirely sure. She let him wonder for a few moments more before she brushed back her blonde hair, gave him a flash of white teeth and bent down low over the straining and throbbing prick that seemed to aim at her mouth by an instinct of its own.
She placed her hands on the cock lightly, just touching it with her fingertips and letting him feel the contact. He grunted softly and his cock trembled. She wondered whether he had ever had a blowjob. It seemed ludicrous that a boy with his experience and reputation would've gone this long without one, but she supposed it was possible. She was careful, because he was obviously very excited and making him go off before she even got her mouth, much less her cunt, on that cock would be a disaster. It might give her a win by a knockout in their little game, but it certainly would be a costly victory, the way she felt now.
So she didn't do more than touch his cock for a while, letting him regain his control. Then she bent down lower, bringing her face in close so that she could smell the excitement in his crotch. Her thick hair fell across his belly and his body trembled at the touch of it.
She had to go slow on this and she knew it. Probably she shouldn't have started on a blowjob at all. But she hadn't suspected that it would turn him on to such a degree. Now she didn't want to back out.
She hesitated for a moment longer, letting him wrestle with his racing balls; then she touched his cock, just lightly, on the tip, with the wet pink end of her tongue.
"Uh!" he grunted softly and his body writhed a bit at the contact. Ellen paused and let him settle down again before she touched his cock once more, just as lightly. He writhed a bit again, but this time he didn't grunt and his control seemed to be a good deal better.
She began to lick his cock in earnest, moving her tongue over it in long, light strokes, leaving a trail of spit on the head of his prick as she went. She pushed back his foreskin and began to move her tongue down over the length of the cock, licking and wetting it with greater abandon, because this part of it was less sensitive than the head and she didn't have to be as careful to keep from making him come too soon.
She changed her position a couple of times, getting in place to lick parts of the cock she hadn't touched before, then moved farther down, surprising him by licking his balls and his crotch.
"Oh! Jesus Christ!" he grunted, swearing in a tight, hard voice that was a signal to Ellen to back off a bit. She let it go, waiting for Don to cool down and relax just a bit. Then she started to lick his cock again, staying clear of the knob because she wasn't entirely certain he could handle that yet.
She babied him like that for a long while, letting him keep control, not getting too intense in her sucking because she didn't want him to come too soon, slacking off when it seemed he might be ready to go off.
Finally, she decided to put the knob into her mouth. She moved her lips over it lightly, refraining from touching the head at all. She pulled her lips over the edge of her teeth to keep from grazing the sensitive skin with them and possibly making him come.
He grunted again and she stayed very still, waiting for him to regain control. Then she began to move her tongue lightly over the head of his prick again, still keeping the whole head of it in her mouth, still holding her lips between her teeth and his tender skin.
"Uh! Um! God!" His voice was tight with pleasure and desire and the effort to hold himself back.
Ellen was very careful not to get too heavy on the friction, keeping him within the limits of his control and he tensed and writhed a little with the effort to keep things going. As turned on as she obviously had him, he was still, apparently, concerned about making a good showing for her. He was as worried about coming too soon as she was about making him do so.
She held off for a moment, let him get himself under control, then she decided to set him off. He was a young boy and obviously virile and she was certain he'd be able to go off twice before he left her bed. So there was no reason not to let him come in her mouth once.
Ellen increased the pressure of her lips against his cock and began to rock back and forth, moving her whole body to drag her lips up and down over the crown of his cockhead. He grunted and swore and writhed in a paroxysm of pure delight, his body caught up in an ecstasy so sharp and so sudden, it was irresistible.
It took her a little longer than she had expected. He tightened himself against it for a moment and actually seemed to hold back by sheer will power rather than by technique.
But, of course, he was fighting a losing battle. She had him so turned on that he couldn't have held back more than a few seconds no matter how strong a will he had. His cock throbbed and whipped in her mouth, flexed and seemed to go wild, as though it had a life of its own.
She detected the taste she knew so well, the little tang in his cock that told her he was about to come and she knew she had him, that he was over the edge and couldn't back off now no matter what.
Then the cum spewed into her mouth, coming out in hot rivers that hit the back of her throat with the force of a fire hose. She clamped her mouth around his cock, still working back and forth to give him the maximum of pleasure and swallowed, too, a trick she had mastered long ago. She managed to get most of the cum down her throat, but some of it ran out over her lips and down her chin, to dribble onto his abdomen. He grunted and swore and she felt one of his hands clamp a fistful of her hair so tightly it hurt.
"Ohhhh! Goddamn!" he cried as one last spurt of cum shot out of his prick into her throat. Then his cock went soft in her mouth and his body seemed to go limp at the same time.
Ellen rose up to a kneeling position. She said nothing, nor did she look at him, but got off the bed and went into her bathroom. She took down the Lavoris and poured it full strength into a Dixie cup. Then she recapped the bottle and gargled with the mouthwash, taking it in several sips and spitting it into the basin as she used it. She ran some cold water to rinse it down the drain, then tossed the cup into the waste basket next to the basin.
She went back into the bedroom and saw him lying on the bed. She paid him only a casual glance, then went into the kitchen and picked up the drink she had left there when she had answered the door earlier. The ice had melted and the drink was weak, so she took a healthy swig of it and poured in another slosh of bourbon. Then she went back into the bedroom, still holding the drink.
"Well, you got what you were after," she said icily to Don. "Now do you think, before you leave, you can provide me with what I want, too?"
He winced under the cold onslaught of her words; then, sitting up suddenly, he snarled, "You're such a wise fucking bitch. You just give me a minute and I'll show you what a man is!"
"Oh, really? I can hardly wait. I didn't think you knew what a man was, Don." She was taking out her own frustration and self-contempt on him, but he had no way of knowing that and her words obviously stung him.
"You just keep it up, you wise cunt," he said coldly. "I'll shove those words up your ass and break 'em off."
"Oh, that's a good way to prove what a man you are," she said with a cold smile. His words scared her, because she had the feeling that he was violent enough to carry out his threat. "If you can't be a man in bed, you can always prove your masculinity by going around beating up women. Very good, Don."
"Aw, I'm not gonna hit you," he mumbled, leaning back against the headboard of the bed. "But I'll show you. I'll show you just what a man I am." He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself rather than her.
Ellen smiled once more. "Well, I hope so, because so far the best I could possibly do for you on this night's work would be a C minus, dear." She took another sip of her drink. "You know, if you're going to go forcing your way into a woman's apartment and forcing your company on her, the least you could do would be to perform decently once you're inside. It's unforgivable to frighten, bore and disappoint a woman all on the same night."
For a moment she thought she had gone too far. He sprang from the bed and moved toward her with a strong, catlike grace that was frightening. His legs looked knotted and powerful in the dim light and his shadow was huge and bent on the wall and ceiling. Ellen didn't even try to move away from him. He came up to her, knocked the glass from her hand and yanked her forward so hard she lost her footing and fell against him. The fall and the yank on her arm that kept her from going down seemed to wrench her whole body and she felt a jolting ache in her joints. She was pulled up hard, face-to-face with him and she felt his breath on her cheeks.
"You like to use that smart fuckin' mouth of yours for somethin' besides teaching class and suckin' cocks, don't you, Teach?" he demanded. "You think you're really somethin' special, huh? You think I don't know a hot-pants little tramp when I see one? What kind of special is a little cocksucker like you, who takes on a guy just because he has the balls to push his way into your fucking pad?"
"Don't, please, that hurts," she said, trying to pull her wrist from his grip.
"It hurts, does it? Well, that's just too fuckin' bad, little Miss Land, ma'am. That's really too bad, but maybe some pain is what you been needin' for a long time now. Maybe a fuckin' little whore like you needs to be roughed up a little now and then to learn your place, huh?" He gave her a shove, holding onto her wrist and snapping her toward him when she reached arm's length.
As she moved toward him once more, he slapped her across the face, a hard, stinging slap that turned her head as far as it would go. The pain was considerable, but somehow it drove all the fright out of her and in its place she felt her breast flood with a vicious rage. Her hand came up, curling into a talon and she almost reached his face with it before he moved his arm up to block hers, brushing it aside. Then he slapped her again.
"You bastard!" she shrieked and tried another slash at his face. But he laughed.
"You're a regular little wildcat, ain't you, Teach?" he said. He seemed to be enjoying the response he had aroused in her. His hand flicked across her face again, then again. Ellen's anger boiled furiously, rising up in her like a bubbling fluid about to run over. Then the anger seemed to change and there were other emotions that came out of it, like a substance rising to the top to be skimmed off of a boiling liquid. Suddenly she wasn't slashing at his face any longer, but straining forward, her body pressing against his. He grasped her wrists and pushed them back over her shoulders and behind her, straining her joints and muscles uncomfortably.
"You want it, Teach?" he sneered. "You want it now? You think maybe I can do you a job after all, Teach?" His taunting tone only excited her all the more; then his mouth clamped over hers, sending his tongue gliding inside to probe and caress and taste and she returned the kiss with all she had, her tits pushing against his chest.
She felt her nipples, as hard as pebbles and she hadn't noticed them hardening at all, didn't have any idea of how long they had been that way. He pushed her back and let go of her wrists. She fell against him, kissed him wildly, then felt him sweep her up in his arms. She lay cradled in his embrace as he carried her to the bed. He laid her down and got onto the bed beside her.
This time neither of them was in any mood for foreplay. He mounted her without ceremony and she opened her thighs for him with blind eagerness. He pushed his hard cock into her sopping cunt and began to fuck her. Instantly she felt a shot of pleasure as her hungering body responded to the stroking of his cock through her cunt. Her hips worked like a powerful and well-oiled machine, thrusting up as he came down, meeting him with a belly-slapping thud that jarred her pleasurably. The slap-slap-slap of their bodies meeting was as regular as a metronome. And the cadence of the pleasure moving through her body was like a metronone, too, an electric metronome, shocking her with regular jolts of joy.
"Uh... uh... uh... " she gasped with each thrust of that wondrous, hard prick through her cunt. He was a virile boy, with the strength of a dozen men, from the way he was pleasing her. She could only respond to his lovemaking like a puppet to which he held the strings. He was in complete control now and she knew that he knew it and she didn't mind at all. The contest was over and he had won.
His cock was ruthless, moving through her with the regular thrusts, driving her into a fit of ecstasy that was almost painful in its intensity.
Her legs rose and wrapped about him automatically. She embraced him with her arms and her legs, locking his hips into the caress of her thighs as his neck locked into the embrace of her arms.
His cock continued its sliding, gliding movements through her and she felt the throbbing of his body against hers and the heat of it and she felt shivers move through her own body, shivers of exquisite pleasure that left her weak and helpless against the desires of her own body.
His grunts filled her ears and she grew more excited at the sound. Everything seemed to be turning her on. She thrust and pumped in time with him, keeping his cadence and matching the power of his fucking motions. They were both covered with sweat and her cunt was pumping out its juices in huge amounts, lubricating her for the fucking that seemed to raise her need as it fed it.
"Ah!" she cried suddenly, her voice coming out taut and strained, the breaking of the dam as the pleasure built up in her like a cataract and forced its way out through her throat.
When the climax came it was enough to shake her like a tiny animal caught in the grip of a " predator's jaws. She clutched at Don, holding him against her, her nails raking his back and her legs tightening on his waist, holding him against her in a frantic clutch, as though he were a lifeline. Her eyes squeezed shut and her body tingled and burned with desire and she bit her lip and clenched her teeth and cried out with the force that rumbled through her.
Then Don grunted loudly and his cock seemed to whip and throb in her and she knew he was about to come. She felt another climax, at least as powerful as the first and then a third more potent than either of them. Then she felt the cum spew from his cock and flood through her like a river, coursing through her cunt and into her womb and filling her with the fierce, lovely agony of another orgasm.
"Uh!" he grunted. "Jesus!" Then another shot of cum shot from his cock and drove through her and she thrust her belly up against his, giving him the benefit of the last bit of pleasure he would be capable of feeling and taking pleasure herself, a last scrap of joy, like someone licking up the crumbs after a banquet.
It left him spent, as it had to do. Ellen, once the first instant of satisfaction was over, felt the same creeping lack as always, the faint stirrings of frustration that would grow in her until, in em hour, she would feel as though she had been alone all night.
To keep from thinking about it, she sat up on the edge of the bed, turning her back to Don. He lay still, but she was certain that she felt his gaze on her back, wondering how she could just sit up and turn her back, no doubt, after such a hair-raising fuck. They all wondered that, except for Leo. She had never done it to Leo. She had played the game with Leo, because she didn't want him to feel the clawing inadequacy she gave to men when she was honest. None of them had ever been enough for her. No man had ever done for her what she had been able to do for them: satisfy her completely, exhaust her capacity and need for more fucking.
She got up and went into the bathroom and turned on the taps in the tub. She felt the need to cleanse herself now, to rid her body of the touch and the smell of Don Jethro. This whole experience had been a lousy thing, something she wished she could erase from her mind. She poured in even more of the bath salts this time, as though the fragrance could remove the smell she sensed on herself. She had done shameful things before, gone to bed with complete strangers, with young boys who had never been with a woman before. She had corrupted others in her own need to satisfy the raging corruption in herself, but this was the first time she had ever fucked one of her own students.
She tried to tell herself that it was foolish to feel guilt about something like that, that Don was a pig and that this had been his idea from the first, but it did no good. She had sent out the signals that had told him he could get away with this. If he hadn't smelled the heat of her cunt, he wouldn't have come here this night. And she had opened the door for him. She had told herself at the time that she had thought it was Leo's voice from the other side of the door, but now she wondered. That was the worst part of her life, she thought despairingly: never knowing what she had done, or how much of it she had meant to do.
She got in the tub and soaked for a long time. She thought she heard movements in the bedroom from time to time, but she didn't pay any attention. She wanted to believe that Don Jethro didn't exist, that he had never been born, that what had happened to her just now had been masturbation and nothing else.
When she finally rose from the tub, she put on the spare robe she kept hanging on the door and went out into the bedroom. There was no one there. The rumpled bed was the only sign that anyone had been there this night. She changed the sheets and made the bed up neatly, in case Leo should come over. Then she went into the kitchen and poured herself another drink. She remembered the spilled one and went back and picked up the glass. The drink had soaked into the carpet and she didn't feel like doing anything about it just now. She had been meaning to shampoo the carpet anyway. She'd do it this weekend.
She went back in and took a healthy swallow of her drink, telling herself that this was definitely the last one tonight, that she didn't need that problem added to the one she already had.
She sat down on the couch and almost blindly went through the papers she had been grading before, correcting a few more before the night caught up with her and she started to cry.
It had been going on for so long now and she was still so young. She had given up thinking that she would ever change, that there would be a cure and then she could be like other women, with a choice. It had been going on for eight years now, since she was fourteen, since just a few months after Daddy's death. Since that awful night at Uncle Dudley's...
CHAPTER FOUR
Stevie had been sent to live with Aunt Hortense and Uncle Bill. Ellen would've liked to have gone there, too, but they couldn't afford to take both of them, so she'd been sent up to the northern part of the state to live with Uncle Dudley and Aunt Caroline. She hadn't looked forward to it and when she got there her fears proved to be underestimates of the real situation.
Uncle Dudley and Aunt Caroline had three teen-agers of their own: George, who was sixteen, Kent, who was fifteen and Becky, who was Ellen's age, fourteen. Uncle Dudley was a plasterer and made pretty good money, but with three children of their own in high school, it was a financial hardship for them to have to take someone else's daughter to raise. Of course, Ellen knew that and she went to them reluctantly, with a feeling of guilt and gratitude to them for taking her in. But that didn't satisfy them. No matter how much she tried to help out, no matter how hard she worked around the house, or how hard she worked in school to make them proud to have her as another daughter, they resented her, hated her. And they seemed to take pleasure in showing her that she was a drag to them, another mouth to feed, someone whose presence made their little house just that much less comfortable.
Their teen-agers took their cue from their parents and resented her, too. Especially Becky. She seemed to resent Ellen more than the others and did her best to make Ellen miserable, constantly reminding her that she was in Becky's room and that she was an outsider who was only allowed there because the adults of the house had reluctantly ordered it that way, having nowhere else to put her.
For the first time in her life Ellen found that she had no one who cared about her, or wanted her and that she had nowhere to go. Anywhere she went in that house she was only tolerated, never welcomed.
On that terrible night, Becky had been especially nasty to her and Ellen, crying, had taken her blankets and pillow out to the living room to sleep on the couch. She had never done that before and she didn't know how her aunt and uncle would react when they found her there in the 'morning, provided she was still asleep when they woke, but she didn't care at that moment. She only wanted to be away from the taunting words of her cousin. Just to be alone for a few hours would be a gift.
She made up the couch neatly and turned out the lamp. Then she stretched out, pulled up the covers and managed to get comfortable. It was an old couch, but it was nice, wide and pretty sturdy and she found that it wasn't much less comfortable than her bed.
But she couldn't get to sleep. Now, alone for the first time in three months, she found it all catching up with her. Becky's nastiness had only been the trigger. She was so miserable and there seemed to be no relief from it at all. She cried, as she hadn't cried since Daddy's funeral, when the grownups had stood around and clucked their sympathy and said that it was such a shame that she was taking her father's death so badly, thinking they knew the full ugliness of the thing that had happened and feeling for her and all unaware that she was crying over things they didn't even suspect.
Now all the tears she had dammed up for those three months came flooding out of her and she shook with hard sobs, painful sobs that racked her whole body.
She didn't even hear Uncle Dudley when he came in. He was heading for the kitchen, probably to get a beer. They had a TV set in their bedroom and he liked to watch the late movies after his wife was asleep. Uncle Dudley was working a swing shift and couldn't go to sleep early like everyone else.
She only became aware of his presence when he walked up to the couch. Then she jumped, seeing his form loom over her and she tried to wipe away the tears, as though she thought she could keep him from seeing that she had been crying.
"What are you doing out here?" His voice was soft and nicer than she had heard him since she had move in.
"I... I... Becky and I had an argument," she admitted. "I'm sorry if- "
"It's all right, Ellen," he said. He sat on the arm of the couch, right near her head. "I guess it's been pretty tough on you here, hasn't it, honey?" He stroked her hair lightly.
Ellen was astonished by his sudden kindness. It was completely out of character for him. But she wasn't about to question any kindness, from whatever quarter.
"It's all right, Uncle Dudley," she said, enjoying the soft stroking of his hand. "I know it's hard for you and Aunt Caroline to take me in." Her voice was still broken by sobs and the crying started up again, spurred by the emotions she was feeling now that someone was showing some concern for her feelings.
"No, we've been taking it out on you," Uncle Dudley said. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. His body was lean and wiry and his face carried the windburn and scars of a life of physical labor. He certainly wasn't a handsome man by any standards, but at that moment he was beautiful to her, because his face was the first kind one she had seen since coming here.
On impulse, she grabbed his head and held it in place while she shifted her position and kissed him back, on the mouth. She hadn't even known she was going to do such a thing and there had been no conscious sexuality about it. It had been an act of gratitude, an offer of love and nothing more. But she felt the response in his body and then she knew, for the first time, what it was he wanted from her and why he was being so nice to her for the first time, with his wife sound asleep in the back of the house.
For just one instant she was repulsed by the thought, horrified at the way he wanted to use her. Then, without warning, she felt a surge of desire so sharp it almost made her wince. She felt a dampness on her forehead and under her arms and her nipples stood up hard and straight under her pajamas.
She could see that Uncle Dudley sensed her response, but she could also tell that he wasn't certain of it. His hand stroked her hair again and she knew he was trying to decide just how bold he dared to be.
She pulled his head down once more, but this time she didn't kiss him. Instead she placed her mouth against his ear. "I know what you want," she whispered and felt his body go stiff with surprise. His hand, still caught in her hair, gripped tightly. It was like a warning, in case she meant to taunt or threaten him. But she had no intention of doing either. "You can have it," she said. "Not only now, but any time you want, as often as you want. I promise you."
He tried to pull his head away, but she held to him with both hands, pulling his ear next to her mouth again. "There's just one thing I ask," she breathed. "You have to like me from now on. That's all. Just be nice to me."
She wasn't even certain he had heard her. His hand left her hair and moved to her shoulder. She could feel the tension in it and she knew, with a sudden excitement, that he was going to do it to her.
"Will you?" she demanded, still whispering, though his ear wasn't against her mouth any longer.
He looked at her as though not quite certain what she was talking about. "Will you be nice to me from now on?" she asked. "Will you like me, Uncle Dudley? No one will ever know except you and me. I'll never tell. And if you'll like me and be nice to me, I'll be your girl in every way you want. I'm not a virgin," she added. Then, to prove her point, she reached out and touched the front of his pajamas. Her fingers came into contact with the stiff lump of his cock and the touch made him wince. She heard the change in his breathing and knew that he was more excited now, that he was turned on and if there had been any doubt as to whether he'd go through with it, that doubt was gone.
He bent down to kiss her, his mouth seeking hers greedily. She let him kiss her, took his tongue with hers, gave the best kiss she knew how to give and then, when it was over, said, "You have to promise. I don't want much. I'll do my work, just like always. I don't want any special favors. I don't even expect you to like me as much as you like your own kids. I just want you to be nice to me from now on. That's all."
He tried to kiss her again, but she avoided his lips. "Promise," she said. And then, as his mouth sought hers again, "Promise. Promise, or I won't do anything."
"All right, goddamnit!" he hissed. "I promise. Now, are you- " Before he could finish, she grasped his head, pulled him down to her and kissed him, a long, deep and wet kiss that made his hand tighten on her shoulder.
She reached up and took his hand off her shoulder, pulled it down to her left tit. Her body had really begun to develop these past few months and there was a lot more there than there had been that night with Daddy. Even lying on her back, she had enough tit to make him flush with excitement as he felt the fleshy mound through her pajama tops. He kissed her again, his hand squeezing her tit. When the kiss was over, she pulled his hand away.
"Here," she said softly. "Let me take off my pajamas."
His eyes bulged with anticipation. His excitement amused her, but at the same time it communicated itself to her. The fact that she was able to turn him on so high made her excited, too. She unbuttoned her pajama top and let him see her tits. He licked his lips unconsciously and she thought that he probably wanted to lick her tits instead. And there was no reason why he shouldn't. She had never had that done to her, but she had heard that was something men liked to do and that it felt great when they did it.
She pulled his head down to her tit and felt his lips graze it, tickling the nipple into life just before he opened his mouth and took it inside. His tongue felt warm on her tit. As it glided over her nipple, leaving a trail of spit, she shuddered with excitement.
His hand cupped her other tit and she felt another quiver of delight and excitement travel over her body as he touched her there. His hand was hard and callused and the feeling of its masculine strength was enough to delight her. Her cunt was growing damp and her breathing was growing fast, shallow and ragged.
His hand slipped down off her tit and moved over her flat belly, slipping slowly toward her pajama bottoms. Her belly quivered as his hand slipped over it. She lay very still, giving no outward sign that she was even aware of the hand, much less that she knew its intended target. He was watching her carefully and she had the feeling that he still wasn't sure of her, that he thought she might be playing a trick on him and that she intended to cut him off at the last moment. She closed her eyes and lay still, allowing him the run of her body and after a moment his hand grew more bold in its advance, speeding up on its march toward her cunt.
His fingers dipped under her pajama bottoms and she gasped a little with excitement at the touch of his hand beneath her pants. Then it slipped down farther, touching the first wisps of the cunt hair that had begun to sprout in greater abundance in the past months. He grew visibly excited at the feel of the hair and his mouth sought hers once again. She returned this kiss as avidly as any of the others and perhaps a bit more so. Her tongue slid over his with sensuous delight. His hand moved down over her cunt and his fingers slipped between her thighs. She opened her legs to him, letting her left foot dangle over the edge of the couch, moving her right foot up the back of it, to give him more room to work. His fingers slipped over the moistening lips of her cunt and she writhed in delight. A thrill of joy ran through her at the friction of his fingertips moving over the lips of her cunt. She let out a gasp of pleasure and his hand grew even more bold. He cupped her cunt, squeezing it hard with his hand, massaging it and slipping his finger in between her cuntlips and inserting it into her snatch.
"Hhh-uuuhhh... " she sighed softly, the pleasure sending another shiver over her body.
Uncle Dudley slipped his finger more deeply into her cunt and began to move it back and forth, creating a friction that made her cry out again and again. Her hands clamped on his shoulders as the pleasure grew more intense. Her sopping-wet pussy thrust up against his hand and her eyes glazed and went half-closed, heavy lidded with passion. - Suddenly he drew out his finger, pulled his hand out of her pants and stood up. He pulled the cord on his pajamas and the pants fell in a puddle about his ankles. He stepped out of them, not bothering about his top. Ellen quickly shoved her own pants down past her hips, then pulled her knees up to her tits and pushed the pajamas off, dropping them to the floor beside the couch.
"Turn over," he growled.
She stared at him, not knowing what he meant. She had never heard of fucking in any way but the way she had done it with Daddy that night.
But he seemed impatient. He grasped her right arm and tugged it toward him and she complied. She nearly fell off the couch doing it, but she turned over and lay on her belly. He knelt on the edge of the couch and placed his hand on her ass. She quivered with fresh pleasure and desire at the touch of his hand there, but she still didn't know what he intended to do. He moved his body down toward her feet, placing his knee between her thighs. She opened her legs more widely for him and then he was kneeling between her legs.
"Get up," he ordered. "Hands and knees."
She pulled her knees up under her and lifted her body into the position he had demanded. She felt him move up behind her, his hands playing over her ass and then one hand left and she felt him fumbling his cock between her legs. It nudged her cunt and she felt a surge of pleasure that was almost an orgasm. His cock pushed against the lips of her tight pussy and he thrust his hips forward, guiding his prick with his fingers and it slipped into her in one thrust, wringing a little cry of surprise and pain from her. He filled her, jammed her. It had never occurred to her that cocks came in different sizes. But although the thrusting of that huge cock hurt her, it was a good feeling, too.
She hadn't even thought about the possibility that fucking could be done in different positions. The girls who had told her their secrets apparently hadn't progressed that far. Besides being different, the new position was delightful in itself. Uncle Dudley's cock seemed to touch her in different ways and with different parts of itself and it made her weak with pleasure to note the different sensations.
His prick began to plunge into her and withdraw as soon as he was inside her cunt. He moved back and forth with a quick and steady rhythm and the tightness of her cunt around his cock, coupled with this new and different position, had her gasping in an agony of pure pleasure before she knew it. His hands grasped her hips, his thumbs buried in the softness of the cheeks of her ass, his fingers curled around front, near the creases of the triangle of her cunt. She rolled her head and moaned with pleasure as his prick plunged into her pussy again and again, filling her and raking her with pleasure, driving her to a fit of joy. She had a climax within seconds and her cunt flooded so copiously that the juices dripped onto the couch. Her hair, damp with sweat, hung down on both sides of her face, obscuring her vision to the rear. She had no hint of anything he was going to do until he did it and the pleasures took her by surprise, each new sensation springing on her like a ravenous animal and racking her with exquisite pangs of joy.
"Uh! Uh! Christ!" he grunted, his voice rasping with the intensity of his pleasure.
His cock seemed to throb inside her and she knew he was more turned on than he had been in a long time. She had wondered, from time to time, what kind of sex life Uncle Dudley and Aunt Caroline shared. She had thought that it probably wasn't much, because Aunt Caroline just didn't seem to be the type.
Suddenly Uncle Dudley removed his hands from her hips and leaned forward along the length of her body. His hands moved over her sides, gliding over her smooth skin with obvious relish and finally slipping up under her to cup her tits. He never missed a stroke while this was happening, but kept his cock slipping in and out of her cunt regularly, fucking her with triphammer speed and precision, the cadence as steady as that of a clock.
"Uuuuhhhh... uhhhhhhh... uuuuhhhhh she whimpered as the huge cock continued to move her through one siege of pleasure after another, each more intense than the previous one.
His fucking was making wet noises now, as her sopping cunt rubbed against his cock with each thrust. His hands continued to knead and squeeze her tits and her nipples stood out against his palms hard and stiff and her skin puckered into gooseflesh all over her body.
"Uh, shit!" he grunted and thrust harder, so hard the impact of his body against hers drove her forward, so that his hands on her tits had to restrain her and the couch itself rocked perceptibly as they jolted back and forth. "Nnnnnnhhhhhh... nnnnhhhh... nnnnhhhh... " he moaned and she knew he was about to come.
Then it hit her with full force, an orgasm that drove her wild. She thrust her face into the pillow to muffle the loud cry that was wrenched from her. Just the beginning of it rang out through the room and then her face was buried in the folds of the pillow and she heard her own cry, deadened but loud in her ears, swallowed by the cloth and feathers of the pillow.
Then Uncle Dudley's grunting turned into a cry, too and it was loud enough to scare her. Apparently it scared him as well, because he clenched his teeth to hold it in and his cock rammed through her with desperate force, as though he couldn't get there fast enough. She knew he was ready to come and she knew that he wasn't doing anything to hold things back, doubtless because he had grown frightened that some other member of the family might come into the living room for some reason and see him fucking her.
Then he reached his orgasm and although she hated to see things end, she was grateful for it, too, because she knew that things had gone on dangerously long enough.
His cum spewed into her, shooting in deep and the feel of it, hot and steamy inside of her cunt, drove her over the edge into a powerful orgasm that made her take a mouthful of the pillow to swallow up the scream of sheer ecstasy that ripped itself from her throat.
When it was over she felt exhausted, spent by the effort of maintaining her position as well as by the pleasures that had racked her body. She hadn't even realized all the physical effort she had been expending, or that she had been working with him, moving her body back and forth in a rocking motion to increase the force of his fucking motions. It had been natural, even to the point of being automatic and unconscious.
When he pulled out of her, she fell forward, lying face down, her body still curled slightly because she was too far along the length of the couch and the arm was in her way.
Uncle Dudley stood up shakily and then seemed to gather up his strength sufficiently to steady himself. He put on his pajama bottoms and his robe, then sat on the couch below her feet. He said nothing for a few moments. Then he got up and looked down at her. Ellen's face was turned outward from the back of the couch and she saw his face blurrily from the corner of her eye.
"Just don't mention this to anyone ever," he said coldly. "Not even to me. And don't expect anything to be different around here, because it won't be!" He turned and walked to the hall door, then, with the doorknob in his hand, turned to face her again. "And another thing, bitch! From now on, you sleep where you fucking well belong!"
When he was gone, she cried for such a long time she lost track of the minutes. She didn't know whether he'd been gone for an hour or two hours when she finally rose from the couch and stumbled into the hallway. As she opened the door she had a momentary fear of seeing Uncle Dudley there, but the hallway was empty. She made her way to the bathroom, went inside and closed the door behind her.
She turned on the cold water and splashed it in her face. It was a soothing feeling and she stood there splashing her face again and again with cold water, taking comfort from it. She had put on her pajama bottoms before leaving the living room and now she lowered them and washed her cunt too. She had felt sore there, but now she realized that it had been her imagination. She had been sore because of the treatment she had received and the shame she felt for having prostituted herself to her uncle. She made a silent promise to herself that she'd never do that again. No man would ever fuck her unless she wanted just him and not something 'from him.
The door opened and she pulled up her pajamas hastily as George, the older son, came into the bathroom. He caught sight of her just as she pulled the pants up and blushed furiously. He backed away.
"I'm sorry," he said nervously. "I didn't know you were in here." He sounded more annoyed and embarrassed than apologetic.
"It's all right, George," she said, smiling at him reassuringly. "Come on in. I was just finishing up anyway."
"I just wanted to wash my hands," he said.
She looked down and saw that his hands had chocolate stains on them. Ellen stepped back from the basin and he turned on the hot water and began to wash his hands.
"Been eating Hershey bars?" she asked, just to make conversation.
He seemed to hesitate before smiling at her in the mirror. It was almost forbidden, by some unspoken rule, to be friendly with the "Outsider" in this house. But she gave him another encouraging and slightly plaintive smile and he melted enough to smile back.
"Yeah," he said. "Don't tell Mom, huh? You know how she gets."
George had a skin problem and was forbidden to eat more than three chocolate bars a week. But he had a job mowing lawns on weekends and after school and Ellen knew he spent some of the money on candy bars, which he consumed either outside the house, or else after everyone else was asleep.
"I won't tell on you, George," she said. "I'm not a tattle-tale."
"Thanks." He seemed to be loosening up a bit, getting used to the idea of being nice to Ellen and she didn't want it to end. It had been a long time since she had talked to someone who didn't either bark at her or snub her.
"If you want, I'll keep the candy bars for you," she offered just a little too eagerly. "That way, when your mom runs a spot check or something, she won't find them in your room."
She smiled at him again, because she felt a stab of panic. She had made a mistake and she was afraid she had blown it.
"I'll think about it," he said warily. "Thanks." He turned and headed for the door. He crowded past her and she grabbed at his arm. She was so lonely she couldn't stand it and the thought that he might leave her and go back to bed was frightening.
"Do you have to go right back to bed this minute, George?" she asked pleadingly. "I mean, couldn't we go into the kitchen and I could make us some hot chocolate or something and we could talk for a while?"
"You don't have to do anything for me, Ellen," he said. His eyes kept moving toward the door and she knew he was about to force his way past her. "I don't want you to do anything for me."
"Yes, you do. I can tell that you do. But you're afraid to like me. I know you are." She let one hand slide down his arm and slip over to the front of his pajamas, making a little journey down his chest.
He quivered with excitement and nervousness. Ellen opened the top button of his pajamas, letting her fingers trace a little path down his bare chest to the next button. He looked petrified and she knew he had never had anything like this happen to him before. She opened the next button, then the last one and placed both her hands on his bare skin. It felt warm and clean and good. She slipped her arms about him and hugged him, her hands meeting on his bare back beneath the pajama top. "You can do anything you want now," she said. "Don't you want to do anything to me? Don't worry about it, honey. I'm not a nice girl and you don't have to feel guilty about it. Not about any of it."
"Ellen, for God's sake!" He was in a sweat, literally and his voice was cracking with fear. "What if somebody should come in?" he demanded.
"No one's going to come in. It's late."
"You and I both came in, didn't we? Look, maybe we can do this some other time, Ellen."
Ellen reached behind her and turned the little handle that locked the bathroom door. "There," she said. "Now no one is going to come in."
"Ellen, I don't think we'd better- " It was obvious that he wasn't going to do anything. He just didn't know how to and he was too afraid. He probably thought that would make her laugh at him and he was trying to hide the fact by making up all these lame excuses. If anything was going to be done, it was up to Ellen to do it.
She had heard of something, in her conversations with those older girls. They had told her about a thing that girls sometimes did for men. One of them even claimed to have done it. She had said that it "wasn't so bad," but the very thought of it had disgusted Ellen at the time. Now, though, she was desperate and she would do anything to keep him from walking out on her like this.
She reached down and tugged at the snaps that held his pajama bottoms up. They gave instantly and the garment fell down, revealing a stiff prick. His cock was big, like his father's and it was as stiff as it could get. She touched it and he cried out in surprise.
"Now, don't worry, honey. You just leave everything to me."
"Ellen, for God's- "
"Shhhh," she hissed. "Don't worry. I'll do anything for you. You don't have to do anything." She dropped to her knees in front of him. His whole body shook with nervousness and excitement.
She had never seen a man's prick from this close before and it shook her a little bit. But she was determined not to show it. She took his cock in her hands, holding it lightly and brought her face up very close. He trembled again and his body wavered, as though he were going to fall over. She made comforting sounds deep in her throat, trying to soothe his nervousness and she leaned forward until her lips brushed the tip of his cock.
"Uhhhh," he said, emitting a sound of surprise and apprehension. She almost laughed, but she knew that wouldn't be the thing to do. As nervous as he was, it could only make matters worse. She was in control and she found that she liked the feeling.
She had also found that the touch of that cock to her lips wasn't as bad as she had expected. She didn't know what she had expected it to be like, but after all, it was only skin, just a part of his anatomy, not so different from kissing him on the mouth, or the cheek. And he'd like it. He'd love it and maybe he'd like her for it.
She touched his cockhead with her lips again, gathering up her own courage. He jerked and made that sound again, though this time it was more muffled than before. It gave Ellen a thrill to be wringing involuntary cries from him, despite his best efforts. She was suddenly filled with a courage and a boldness that she hadn't known she possessed. She opened her mouth and kissed the tip of his cock. The feel, the wetness of that kiss, surprised him and made him cry out again. Without pausing Ellen opened her mouth wider, stuck out her tongue and licked his cock, just the tip of it.
"Jesus!" he grunted tightly and she had to stifle a giggle.
Suddenly she felt good, better than she had ever felt in her life. She was in command, she was giving him pleasure, she was making him cry out for mercy. He was rooted to the floor because of her. He wouldn't be leaving her until she was finished with what she was doing for him. So, if she didn't want to be left alone, the thing to do was to make this last as long as she could.
She licked his cock some more, moving her tongue over it lightly and lovingly. He was petrified, unmoving except for a slight but intense trembling that wouldn't stop. She glanced upward, saw his head thrown back, his face turned toward the cracked and peeling ceiling of the little bathroom. She pushed his foreskin back and began to move her tongue up over the shaft of his cock. He grunted and whimpered with intense joy as her tongue did its loving work on him and his cock shook and throbbed in her hands.
Ellen was growing more and more bold as she realized that what she was doing wasn't really distasteful at all. She like it. She supposed that was part of being a bad girl. No nice girl could like doing such a thing, especially for a boy she didn't even care for. But she wasn't going to worry about that now. She was just going to enjoy herself and see to it that he enjoyed it, too.
In a sudden burst of boldness she took the head of his prick into her mouth and caressed it with her lips. He almost came unglued at that. His body jerked so hard she almost lost his cock and he cried out, not just a grunt, but a real, honest-to-God cry, as though she had hurt him. But she knew that it wasn't a cry of pain. She had just given him a shot of pleasure so great he hadn't been able to contain it and he had let it out in the form of a cry. It was the same kind of cry she had made when his father had been fucking her earlier.
She had had just enough experience and had just enough intuition now, to tell that he wasn't going to last much longer. She sensed it. There was a difference in the way his cock was acting in her mouth and a subtle difference in the taste of it and she just knew that he wasn't going to be able to hold back much longer.
She took his cock more firmly in her mouth and moved her tongue over the surface of it, licking and sucking at the same time, just doing anything she could think of. She wasn't experienced at sucking cocks yet, but she knew that contact and friction were the things that counted in pleasing a man, so she just gave him all the contact and all the friction she could manage at one time.
Then she made a charming discovery, one that would stand her in good stead for all the years of her sexual life to come. She found that there was one part of a man's cock that was the most sensitive and that was the little ridge at the back part of the head, a kind of crown on the rear of his knob. She had been noticing all along that as her tongue moved over George's cock he responded more violently at different times. And she had begun to suspect, as she went along, that it had something to do with the area of his cock she was licking at the moment. Now she realized that she had been right and that that little crown, or ridge, was the place where all the action was.
She concentrated on that, moving her tongue across it again and again, with increasing force, giving him more and more friction as she went along and he responded, showing her that she had been right in her guess.
"Uuuhhh... aaaaahhhhhh... uh!" he grunted and moaned and she felt a quivering in his belly and a throbbing and pulsing in his prick and she knew he was ready to come.
She had thought about this moment in the beginning and had decided that if she could predict with any certainty when he was about to go off, she would remove her mouth from his prick at that moment and let him go off in midair.
Now, however, she didn't want to do that. She had proved to herself that there was nothing distasteful to her about having his prick in her mouth. Maybe she could take having him come in her mouth, too. Even if it was terrible, she could get through it and she had an idea that it would impress George. So she kept working on his prick, working for all she was worth, giving him the best time she knew how.
When he came it was really something, a river, a sea of cum shooting into her mouth all at once, in huge gobs that seemed intent on driving through the back of her throat and out of her head. She caught most of it, though some ran down her chin. She didn't worry about that. She just worked at swallowing what she could. And it was a lot.
He was writhing in an agony of pleasure, his body twisting and turning as he spurted fresh gobs of cum into her mouth. Ellen took it and swallowed as quickly as she could, unable, at the moment, to taste much, because it was happening so quickly and she was swallowing it so fast, but she got a fleeting flavor of bitterness, an alkaline taste that was only mildly unpleasant.
At last he was through. He seemed limp, hardly able to stand up. He reached back, found the wall and leaned against it. Slowly he lowered himself to the closed toilet. He was covered with sweat and was breathing with explosive blasts of air. Ellen sat back on her feet and looked up at him with a mixture of sadness and pride.
"There," she said. "Now you know I meant it when I said I'd do anything for you. You liked that. Any boy-any man would like it," she amended. "I'll do it for you again. Any time you say. Any time at all, George. As long as you're nice to me. That's all I ask."
He looked at her with an unreadable look and then he stood up and pulled his pajamas up. He buttoned the top. She knew he had mixed feelings toward her now. He was drained and with the heat of his loins spent he felt disgust for this girl who knelt before him with cum drying on her chin and lower lip. But, of course, he had loved what she had done for him.
He looked down at her for a long moment and his mouth worked silently. He finally found his voice. "Ellen, I- "
"You don't have to say anything, darling." She leaned forward and hugged his knees. "I told you. You don't have to do anything at all. Just so you like me, that's all. I'm here for you any time you want and it will be our secret." She knew he wanted to leave and reluctantly, she realized that she would have to let him. She let go of his knees and he turned the lock on the door, opened it, hesitated, then left.
She washed her face carefully, used some mouthwash and looked at herself in the mirror to make certain there was nothing about her looks that would tip anyone off to what she had been doing.
She went back into' the living room and got under the covers on the couch. She turned off the lamp and lay still for a while; then she began to cry. She cried from loneliness, because she had done her best and still no one would stay with her. She knew she had done some good. George might not like her right now, but he would think about what had happened between them and when his prick was stiff again, he'd like her. That was as much as she could ever expect, of course: for a boy to like her when his cock was up.
But mostly she cried because she had remembered the promise she had made to herself just before going into the bathroom. She had promised herself that she would never have sex with any male for what he could give to her, but only because she liked him, felt something for him. Minutes later she had broken that promise. And she knew that she would break it again and again. All she could see in front of her for the rest of her life was a long string of broken promises.
CHAPTER FIVE
Don's behavior on the following day was no worse than usual. He had never been a troublesome student, really; just a disinterested one. He sat through class that day without making the least trouble, as always and when class ended he left without a word and with only a slight glance toward Ellen, which was unreadable, but which she thought contained a shot of resentment. She wondered whether he still harbored some resentment toward her over the way she had verbally castrated him the night before when he had come too soon. If so, she was glad, because his resentment and humiliation would probably keep him away from her after this and that was all to the good, now that he knew, or at least suspected, her inability to keep from falling into the arms of any man who made an attempt to fuck her.
When class ended she picked up her purse and went outside, locked the door and hurried down the hall toward the supply room. She had to pick up some test answer sheets for the next period and wanted to have a cup of coffee during the snack period that followed second period.
She unlocked the door to the supply room and scurried inside, looked along the shelves until she spotted the sheets she wanted; then, since they were out of reach, she took off one shoe and stepped onto a low shelf, stretching to reach the packet of printed forms.
Suddenly the room darkened as the door was pulled shut. She looked around so sharply she lost her balance and fell to the tile floor. It was a drop of more than a foot and her foot hit the floor at a bad angle. She cried out with pain as her ankle twisted under her and only her grab at the nearest shelf kept her from breaking it. As it was, she sprained it and when she tried to stand on it, she found the pain enough to send flashes across her vision.
It finally occurred to her to look and see what had caused the door to close. She saw Don Jethro standing there. In the dim light he looked sinister, like some demon called up from the fiery depths. It made her uneasy just to look at him and she bit her lip as much from fright as from the pain she felt.
"What do you want?" The question sounded foolish in her own ears, but she couldn't think of anything to say at the moment.
"Now that's a pretty stupid question, Teach," he said. "I want some of what I had last night."
"Don, don't be childish," she said. "You could be in a great deal of trouble unless you open that door right this moment."
"You want to talk about trouble, Teach?" he asked and laughed. "Let's have a little contest, you an' me. We'll each see who can cause the most trouble for the other one." That sent a shiver down her spine, but she tried to bluff it through.
"If you think anyone would believe anything you said- "
"I think so. Now we only have a few minutes, Teach, so let's just see if we can maybe get a little quickie over with and get on to our next classes. No bullshit. You don't want to be late for class and have to explain it, do you?"
Ellen felt a surge of panic. The fool really meant it! He actually expected to fuck her right here and now. "Look, Don, be reasonable," she said. "If you want to-if you want some more of last night's activity, why don't you come to my place and we'll- "
"You're wastin' time, Teach," he said and came toward her purposefully. One hand pulled down the zipper of his Levi's and the other yanked open the top button.
Ellen hobbled back a step. "If you come one more step, I'll scream. I swear I will."
"Shit, you're smarter than that, Teach," he said with an obscene grin. "You scream, someone might actually hear you; then we'd both have to tell our little stories and that would just make waves, wouldn't it?" He came forward another step and she backed up again, only to feel the wall against her back.
"Don, please don't do this!" She was terrified at the idea of it. She had fucked a lot of men in her time, including perfect strangers, but she had never done anything like this: fucking between classes in a high school supply room!
Then he was right in front of her. His cock was in his hand and she knew that if she intended to scream, it had better be now.
But, of course, she had no intention of screaming. The bastard was right. She didn't want to have to tell any stories and she certainly didn't intend to have him tell any. She tried to brush past him, but she didn't really expect to get away and she didn't. He grabbed her and pushed her against the wall again.
"Look, Teach, I told you, we don't have much time. I'm late for class a lot, but if you're late they're gonna wonder what the hell caused it. So if you're smart, you'll just cooperate. A quickie's all I want. Remember me?" His voice turned ugly. "I'm the guy who can't keep it up long enough to satisfy you anyway. So let's get it goin', sweets." He grabbed her by the throat and squeezed hard enough to cut off her breath for a moment. Then he moved his hand up and gave her a pat on the cheek. At least it was probably meant to seem like a pat. Actually, it turned her head to the side with its force and scared her more than it hurt. She bit her lip and stood very still.
Don reached down and pulled her skirt up. It was a short skirt, a mini. He yanked it up so quickly and so violently that it startled her and she gave a little gasp that was half-scream.
He looked at her warningly. "Let's keep it friendly, Teach," he said. Then he thrust his fingers inside her pantyhose and yanked them down hard. They went down to her hips and at the second yank they tore slightly and revealed her cunt.
He grinned. "That's real pretty." Then he yanked them down again, bending over and thrusting them past her knees.
She was shaking so violently she was afraid she might lose her balance and fall, but somehow she managed to stand there, with the support of the wall behind her. She felt her body drench itself in sweat. She wanted to run, but there was just no way to do it. And at the same time she had to admit to herself that her body was responding to the stimulation of his announced intention to fuck her.
Don's cock was thrusting out in front of him lewdly. He was close in front of her and as he moved it in the last few inches, his booted foot came up and centered itself on the wad of nylon that was her pantyhose. He stamped them down hard, clear to the floor. It twisted Ellen's foot a bit and she gasped again, but kept from crying out.
He grinned. "That's better, Teach," he said. "You learn the rules fast." His foot was still on the pantyhose. "Now just pull a foot out of there so we'll have room to work."
When she didn't respond instantly, he slapped her again and this time her head hit the wall behind her painfully.
"I told you, we ain't got the fucking time for you to play the scared virgin. Now, pull out a- He cut himself off as she pulled her foot free, resting her weight on the good one. She dropped off her remaining shoe to do it.
"That's a good girl," he said.
Then, without any more words, he reached down, took his throbbing cock in his hand and centered it on her cuntlips. A little more forward movement, a thrust of his powerful hips and he wrung a cry from her as his prick penetrated her cunt. Her head jerked back against the wall again at the sensation of his cock being speared into her cunt that way. Her hands came up to waist level and curled into talons. She held them still for a moment, then pushed them forward and grasped his hips hard. She felt the rivets on his Levi's and for some reason that excited her all the more. Then he placed his powerful hands on her shoulders for balance and began to fuck her.
He didn't try to baby himself along this time, but set about the task of making himself come as soon as possible. He shoved and pulled and shoved again, filling her cunt with his prick and ramming her ass against the wall with the weight of his body. She gasped and whimpered in a mixture of pleasure and discomfort as the wall made repeated and violent contact with her ass.
She found her hands assisting him and it surprised her, because it had been unconscious on her part up to that time. She was pulling him toward her and thrusting him back, then pulling him in again. His cock was moving through her cunt with ruthless force, driving her into a fit of pleasure so intense she couldn't help emitting little cries. It was only by self-control that she was able to hold them down from actual screams of intense joy. The violence of his fucking was turning her on as she had seldom been turned on before.
He moved right up against her, his chest pressing her to the wall. She felt the stiffness of his denim jacket through her sweater and bra. Her eyes closed. She felt herself caught up in a tingling, sensual joy so intense that she was half-crazy with it.
Somewhere, in the distance, she heard a bell clang loudly. The snack period was over and she was supposed to be heading back to class. She knew she should be concerned about that and she was, in a distant sort of way. She knew she'd be a good deal more concerned about it later, but now she couldn't seem to worry too much about anything more than a foot away from her hot cunt. She was in a fit of pleasure and in that moment she felt a minor climax sweep over her, dragging a cry of joy from her lips.
Then his cum spewed into her and she rammed her hips at him with renewed vigor, trying to hit her own orgasm before he was through with his fucking. But it was too late.
"Uh! Ohhhh, CHRIST!" he growled and another glob of cum shot up her cunt. Then he rammed into her a few more times and he was finished.
He pulled his softening cock out of her cunt and stepped back. He looked satisfied, drained. He grinned at her and pulled his pants into place, zipping them up and buttoning them.
"Thanks, Teach," he said. "That was real nice."
Beyond his mocking words, Ellen heard people moving through the hall outside. She was crying and she knew she had to stop it, because there was no way she could get to the faculty women's rest-room now and wash her face and repair her makeup. "I think you'd better get out of here first," he said. "You have to get to your class. I don't mind being late. And I'll have to leave when the halls are empty."
She bent down, pulled her pantyhose up, noting that they were torn in a few places and would have to be thrown away when she got home. She smoothed her skirt over them and stepped into her shoe, holding herself up with one hand on a shelf to keep from putting her weight on her injured foot. Then she hobbled over to where her other shoe had fallen and slipped her throbbing foot into it. She was at the door when he called to. her. She turned to see him handing her a pack of exam answer sheets.
"This is what you came in here for, ain't it, Teach?" She took the pack wordlessly, took a hold on her composure and opened the door.
The hall was nearly empty. She limped painfully down to her classroom in the next hall. The students were all standing around waiting to be let in.
"I'm sorry I'm late," she said in a voice that surprised her with its steadiness. She unlocked the door with a hand that only shook a little and went inside.
It was fortunate that she had planned a test for that period. She was able to get through without any lecturing and without spending more than a little time on her feet. Her ankle had swollen and she was in considerable pain. But she hid behind a book for most of the period, only looking up often enough to proctor the exam. When the period ended, she had the students leave their papers on the comer of her desk, rather than picking them up at the head of each row of desks as she usually did.
When they were gone, she gathered up the tests and put them in her brief-case. Then she went to the intercom near the door and picked it up. Winnie, the woman in the office, answered.
"This is Miss Land, Winnie," she said. "I've had an accident in the supply room and my ankle is badly sprained. I have to go home. I thought I could make it through the day, but I can't. Will you call and get me a sub, please?"
"Oh, there's no reason to do that," Winnie said. "Lunch is coming up and after that we only have two periods. We'll just get a couple of teachers to stand in for you. Let's see, I think Mr. Mahoney is free next period and Mr. Sims after that. I'll ask them if they can fill in for you."
"Thank you." She hung up, picked up her bag and brief-case, then remembered that she had better leave some kind of lesson plan for the men who were going to relieve her. She hobbled back to her desk, took a sheet of scratch paper out of the drawer and scribbled a note telling the teachers of her schedule.
Her ankle was painful, but she could've gone through the day with that. She hadn't realized, though, how shaken she had been by the incident with Don.
When she reached the office, Winnie told her it had all been arranged and Mr. Winslow, the principal, had okayed it. Ellen thanked her and limped out to her car. She drove home at a brisk speed, eager to get inside and try to forget about everything. A hot tub would do wonders for her ankle, she thought and it might also help her state of mind. And a cold drink would certainly do that.
She let herself into her apartment. She went into the bathroom and turned on the taps, then went into the kitchen. She poured herself a stiff drink and dropped two ice cubes into it. Then she went back into the bathroom. When the tub was full, she was ready for it, having taken off her clothes while the water was running. She sat down in the water and picked up her drink from the edge of the tub. She took a healthy swig, then held the icy glass against her forehead. It felt soothing. She took another drink and put it down on the edge of the tub again. Her ankle was still throbbing, but the pain had been deadened a bit by the hot water. She settled back, leaning her head on the juncture between the wall and the edge of the tub and dozed off.
She woke up wondering how long the doorbell had been chiming. It rang insistently, in such rapid cadence that the reverberations from one peal didn't have time to die out before it rang again.
Ellen pushed herself out of the tub and put on her robe. She was groggy from sleep and cold because the bath water had cooled while she slept. She stumbled out of the bathroom, tying her robe sash hastily. It was probably Leo, she thought. He'd be free tonight and he had probably come over, seen her car in the open garage, then panicked a little when she didn't answer the bell.
But when she opened the door, the man who stood there wasn't Leo. It was Lester Winslow, the principal. She stood in the doorway, pulling the robe about her more closely.
"Oh, hello, Mr. Winslow," she said nervously. "What brings you over to this part of town?"
"Well, may I come in, Miss Land?" he asked in a slightly humorous tone. She nodded and stepped aside. He stepped inside the apartment and looked around as she closed the door. "You've changed things a bit since the last time I was here."
"Yes, I like to move the furniture around every few months," she said.
"I remember that. But now I guess you've found someone else to move your furniture for you, Ellen." The deliberate dropping of her first name was an obvious clue as to the tone the conversation was going to take.
"Look, Les, I- "
"I just came over to see how you were doing," he broke in. "And to see if there was anything I could do for you. I mean, get something for you, or something like that."
"No, I'm quite all right, Less. I'll be back at work tomorrow. I've been soaking my ankle and it feels much better."
"It looks like you've been soaking more than that," he said with a lilt in his voice.
Ellen decided to ignore it. She didn't want to get started with Les again. That had been a mistake and one mistake at a time was more than enough for a woman like her. She couldn't afford another mistake while she was still trying to get rid of Don Jethro. She went to the coffee table and took a cigarette out of the box. She tried the table lighter, but it didn't work.
"Yes," she said. "I was in the tub when you came." She hoped he'd take the hint and leave, but he was ignoring hints this evening. "So now that you know I'm all right," she said, "I won't keep you. Your wife must be expecting you."
He shook his head. "No, I told her I'd be out until at least eleven and that she wasn't to wait up for me. So you see, you have plenty of time to offer an old friend a drink." He unbuttoned his coat and slipped it off.
Ellen felt a little surge of panic. The bastard was planning on staying. And Leo might happen over tonight. That was all she needed.
"Some other time, all right, Les? I'm very tired tonight and I'd like to get some work done before tomorrow." She was still holding that stupid cigarette with no way to light it. She dropped it on the table and started toward the door to let him out. But instead of following her, he reached out and grabbed her arm. She tried to pull away, but he held on.
"Goddamnit, you can't just write me off like that, Ellen," he growled in a low, tight voice. "I won't put up with it."
"Les, this is stupid. There was never that much between us and I don't want to get heavy with you. You're married and- "
"I was married all those other nights, too," he said.
"Four nights, Les. Just four nights. Don't make it sound like a long-standing affair, please. Now I'd appreciate it if you'd let go of my arm. You're hurting me."
He pulled her up close to him. She didn't even try to pull away this time, because his arms went around her. She heard his jacket fall to the floor.
"I'm not hurting you now, am I?" he asked mockingly.
She could feel his body through his clothes and the thin robe she wore and a surge of desire flashed through her.
"Les, please. Let me go." Her voice was unsteady. She couldn't seem to get her breath. It wasn't fair of him to do this. It wasn't fair of any man to do this to her.
"Let you go," he hissed. "I'll never let you go. Do you have any idea how much I've missed you? How crazy I've been since you broke off with me?" Before she could answer, he covered her mouth with his own. She tried to resist, but it was no use. In a few seconds she was returning the kiss, probing for his tongue with her own. Their tongues met and mingled and caressed and she knew she was lost. She felt like crying and knew she probably would cry later, but right now there wasn't time or energy left over for crying. All she could do was respond to his advances and match them with her own.
His hands found their way under her robe, pushing it back to make room. She surged against him at the touch of fingers and palms on her body, moving enticingly over her rib cage and belly and around to the small of her back. She whimpered with a painful excitement as one hand slipped down to cup one cheek of her ass. He broke off the kiss and moved his lips over her face and neck while his hand continued to play with her ass, kneading the soft, firm flesh, whipping her up to a white heat of excitement.
"Uuuuhhhh!" she gasped, thrusting herself against him.
He kissed her again and his hands moved up to shove the robe back off her shoulders, leaving her naked. Then, suddenly, he bent down and picked her up in his arms. He kissed her again and she clung to him hard. He carried her into the bedroom. She was beyond thinking of consequences now; she was so excited she could only think of the pleasure her body craved. He stood over her, looking down at her nakedness for a moment and she could see the tic of excitement in his cheek, the fire in his eyes and she knew he, too, was beyond calling back. Then he undressed.
It didn't take him long. He was naked before a half-minute had passed. His body was still lean and tan, as she remembered it and his cock was stiff and straight. Not the biggest cock she had ever seen, but that mattered so little, really. He knew how to use it, how to please a woman with it and that was all that mattered.
He came down next to her on the bed and she moved over to make room for him. He placed his hands on her without hesitation, one hand on her tits and the other roaming down over her belly to nudge at her cunt. She gasped and her body curled in the middle as he touched her there. She was red hot and her cunt had been soaking itself before his touch had reached it. Now it churned out a river of juice, wringing a fresh cry of excitement from her. He slipped one finger into her cunt, worked it back and forth and she gritted her teeth in intense excitement, her whole body afire with need.
"Oh, God, Les," she grated. "Do it! For God's sake, do it now!"
He pulled his finger out of her wet pussy, gripped her ass and pulled her onto her side, facing him. Then he let his hand slip down to her thigh, pulled it forward, hooking it over his own and thrust his leg between hers. They had done it this way before and she knew he wanted her to put his cock in for him. She reached down and gripped his cock in a hand made strong by need. She centered it between her cuntlips and fed it into her pussy, then he thrust forward, moving right up against her. His cock slipped between her well-lubricated cuntlips and filled her cunt with its throbbing flesh.
It was hard and huge in her and she began to fuck before he did, so turned on she couldn't wait for him to take the lead. He grunted with surprise as her snatch dragged across the head of his prick. Then he was fucking, too, his body moving in time to the rhythm she had set for them. They came together with a slapping of bellies and parted and came together again. In a moment Ellen was crying out, her voice high and thin with the intense joy that was running through her body. Her tits were tingling with desire and ecstasy and her body couldn't get enough of him. Her cunt swallowed his cock and disgorged it, then swallowed it again. His voice joined hers, grunting softly with each thrust of his prick into her clutching cunt.
"Uh... uh... uh... " The sound of his voice close to her ear was exciting and she clutched him to her more tightly, holding him in a strong embrace, delighting in the feel of his beard rasping against her cheek. The hair of his body was matted with sweat and she felt it against her tits, scratching them with each forward thrust.
"Aaaahhhh... aaaahhhh .. AAAAHHHH!" she cried as the pleasure reached a crescendo, a climax that had her gasping with weakness and lack of breath. She clutched at him, digging her nails into his back and drawing thin trails of blood along his skin. He pulled and pushed with greater vigor than before, thrusting his cock into her with greater and greater force, until she was going through another climax, one more intense than the first. She knew that her response was turning Les on, that he was being aroused by her reaction to his fucking. It excited her all the more and her response grew greater and turned him on even more. "Uh! Uh! Damn! SHIT!" he cried as his prick thrust into her with greater urgency than before. He was reaching his peak, nearing the time when he would spew his load into her.
She knew he was going to come at any moment and she accelerated the thrusting of her hips and pelvis, ramming her cunt against him with greater frequency and greater force, maximizing the pleasure for both of them, getting as much out of it as possible before it was over. She hit a string of orgasms that came so close together she was shaken to the core of her being by them.
Then his cock spat its load into her. He shot cum like a fountain, driving it through her cunt and into her womb with the force of a flood. She cried out, her own orgasm matching his and intensifying it, their bodies melting together, fused by the heat of their ecstasy.
They lay together for a while, their bodies clammy with sweat, his cock softening rapidly in her cunt. Their breathing slowed to normal and finally they parted. His cock dropped free of her cunt and he lay on his back for a while. Then he rose and stood for a moment, looking down at her with a smile.
"Just like old times, wasn't it?"
She didn't bother to answer him. She lay watching while he dressed, whistling a little tune to himself. Then, when he came back and leaned down to kiss her, she pushed him away. "Don't jump to any conclusions, Les," she warned.
He chuckled. "We already came to quite a conclusion tonight, didn't we?"
"Don't come back here again," she said. "The door will be locked."
"What are you- "
"You caught me in the right mood tonight and you had yourself a good time because of it."
"I think we came out about even on that score."
Apparently she had singed his male ego a bit. She hadn't meant to do that, though what he said wasn't entirely true. She had had as much pleasure as he all right and maybe more, but as always she wasn't really satisfied and he obviously was.
"All right, we both had a good time. But I didn't mean it to happen. And it won't happen again, because you won't get into the apartment, much less my bedroom. I don't want anything more to do with you that way. And you have a lot more to lose if there should be trouble than I would."
"You really mean it, don't you?" he asked.
"I do."
"All right. But you'd better hope we don't run into each other sometime when there's no one else around. You proved tonight that you can't say no to me. You never could."
She turned her face away from him. He was right. She could never say no to him.
Or any other man, for that matter.
CHAPTER SIX
A week after Ellen's experience with Don Jethro in the supply room she was going over her grades while the class worked on a test. She noticed that Don hadn't turned in the paper he had promised and without thinking about it, she looked over at him.
He was looking at her and at her glance he rose and walked up the aisle. He bent low over her desk and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "I'll have that paper done real soon, Miss Land. I wouldn't want you to think I'm taking advantage of our personal relationship in class." He didn't laugh, or even smile, but she knew that he was mocking her and she couldn't help the furious blush that crept up from the top of her blouse. Don went back to his desk.
She was sure she had read his message. He wanted her to give him credit for the paper he had never written and he wanted a good grade in her class, though he deserved to fail. She didn't know what she was going to do about it. She had never allowed her personal problems to affect her work and she didn't want to set a precedent. But on the other hand, it seemed very little in return for keeping his mouth shut. And he'd be gone after next year, probably sooner than that since he was a dropout if ever one was born. Still, it rankled her to think of giving him an A or a B when he deserved an F. She'd think about it. She had months before the end of the school year. There was no hurry in his case...
She was wrong about that. She had read him wrong and the urgency of his meaning had escaped her. She found out her error at eight-fifteen that night, when someone knocked on her door. It was Don and he jammed a boot in the door the moment it was opened.
"Get away from here!" Ellen shrieked, trying stupidly to slam the door on his booted foot. Don put a shoulder against the door and gave it a shove. Despite the fact that she had all her weight against it, Ellen felt the door push her back. She tried to dig her feet into the carpet and get a firmer foothold, but by the time she'd thought about it, Don's shoulder hit the door again and it slammed against the chain that held it, ripping it from its moorings. She was pushed back and the door flew open, banging against the wall noisily.
He came in, his swagger more pronounced than usual and she could see that he was at least semihigh on some kind of drug. Before she could assimilate that fact, she was presented with another, even more unnerving: he wasn't alone.
There was another boy with him, a boy about his age, or perhaps a year or so older. He was taller than Don and skinny, with pockmarks on his face. His hair stood out from his head like a fuzzy helmet. He was a scary sight. He'd have been scary on the sidewalk in broad daylight; here, in her apartment with a broken chain hanging from her door, he was terrifying. She tried to grab hold of her emotions, but it was getting harder and harder to bluff through something like this. It had been happening too often lately. Besides, she thought with a thrill of fright, her bluffing didn't seem to do much good anyway. It hadn't stopped Don from fucking her last week.
"All right," she said. "Now you've really put yourself into a bind, Don." She tried to keep her voice steady. She wasn't completely successful. "That's breaking and entering."
"Hey, Braniff, you hear that?" Don asked his friend. "The lady says we're in real trouble. She says that's breaking and entering, 'cause we busted that chain there." He laughed and his friend laughed with him. "Hey, no shit, Teach, is that breakin' an' enterin'?" he asked, turning back to Ellen. "I think you're right. We're really in bad trouble. Breakin' an' enterin'. That's got to be a felony, huh? So if you got us on a felony right now, then there ain't no sense in not havin' a good fuckin' time for ourselves. Ain't that right, Braniff?" He chortled again and Braniff joined in his laughter. They both sounded wild and Ellen guessed that they were higher than she had thought at first. "Let's see," Don said. "Breakin' an' enterin'. What big-time crime should we commit next?" He pretended to think it over.
"If you leave right now, I'll forget about it," Ellen said. "I have no desire to get you in trouble and as you know I don't have much reason to want the police dragged in. But if you don't- "
"I know!" Don crowed. "How about assault?" As the word left his mouth, he demonstrated that he knew what it meant by slapping her across the face. It was a jarring blow and she didn't feel the sting of it at first. She only felt the stunning impact as her head reeled back and rocked and she fell back a step and lost her footing. She fell to the floor. She raised her hand to her cheek and rubbed it absently, trying to gain her wits.
Before she could do that, Don grabbed her wrist, yanked her hand from her face and pulled her to her feet with a jerk that felt as if it would yank her arm from her shoulder socket.
"You know what assault means, right, Teach?" he asked. "It means this!" He drove a fist into her stomach, doubling her over. The pain was unbelievable. She had never known that anything could hurt that much. It drove all the wind from her lungs, so that she couldn't speak. She felt her stomach heave and tasted the bile of vomit in her throat. She managed to choke it back. He grabbed her hair and pulled her upright. "Now," he said, "you got us for breakin' an' enterin' em' assault. Simple assault. You wanna try for aggravated assault, Teach? That's a real good charge."
"Please." The word croaked from her throat. "Don't... "
"What's that you say, Teach? You say you don't wanna get us for aggravated assault? Well, that leaves two more crimes we can try for, don't it? Two more that I can think of. There's rape, which is my personal favorite. Ain't that your personal favorite, too, Braniff?"
"Yeah, right on, man," Braniff said. His voice was higher pitched than Ellen had expected it to be.
"Good. Then Braniff an' me are agreed," he said. "We like rape best of all. But there's another, an' I think, since this is your pad, Teach, you oughta be the one to choose."
There was a sound of metal and when he moved his free hand, Ellen saw a long, wicked-looking switchblade in it. He placed it against her throat. "The other choice, Teach, is murder," he said. He pressed the blade against her throat hard enough so that the point pricked her a bit. "Now, you choose," he said. "You tell me which you prefer. Rape or murder?" When she didn't say anything, he pressed a bit harder with the knife. "You've gotta say which you want, Teach. You gotta say it or else I'll just have to... " He let the sentence trail off, but he gave her just a little more pressure with the knife.
She bit her lip. "Rape," she rasped. Her voice was difficult to command, or to use at all. "I choose rape."
"That's a very wise choice, I think. But you gotta be a nice hostess an' tell us please. You gotta say, 'Please rape me', or else we might decide to get all sulky an' take the other choice just to spite you."
It wasn't as hard making herself say it as she had expected. The hardest part was talking at all, with her throat stretched taut and the knife pressed against it. "Please rape me," she said and closed her eyes tightly. The knife lightened on her skin, then withdrew altogether.
"That's real thoughtful of you, Teach. I always knew you'd be a real thoughtful hostess." He pulled her upright from the arched-back position in which he had been holding her and gave her a shove in the direction of the back of the apartment. "Now why don't you get your pretty little ass back in that bedroom an' we'll take you up on your offer? Braniff, for Christ's sake, close that door."
Apparently neither of them had noticed that the door was still open until that moment. It was an indication of how stoned they were, she thought.
She walked into the bedroom trying frantically to think of a way out of this. But there was no way out of it. And she supposed she'd live through the experience.
In the bedroom, she started to undress right away, facing the back wall. She didn't want to look at either of them while she stripped. If she didn't look, maybe she could pretend she was alone and just getting ready to go to sleep.
Braniff closed the door behind them and locked it. Then he shoved the nearby chair under the knob and jammed it in tightly. They didn't tell her to turn around, as she had expected. They just came around and sat on the foot of the bed. Their expressions told her not to try turning away from them and she had no intention of crossing them. Her belly still burned from the blow Don had dealt her.
She pulled her blouse off over her head as quickly as she could, then unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the floor. They sat looking at her with such obvious enjoyment that they reminded her of dirty-minded little boys sitting staring into a woman's window while she got ready for bed. She tried not to think of them. They were little boys all right, but they were dangerous little boys.
She reached back and took off her bra, unhooking it with shaking fingers. Finally, she got it open and peeled it off, dropping it to the floor in front of her. She was wearing nothing but filmy panties now. She hooked her thumbs in the elastic and pushed the panties down past her hips. They dropped about her feet. When she stepped out of her shoes she was completely naked, free of all her clothes.
"All right," she said. "I'm ready." She was really amazed at how calmly she was taking this thing. From the corner of her eye she caught glimpses of lumps in the front of their pants. Her mouth went dry with nervousness and also with the excitement of sexual awareness.
"Well?" she said, a note of sharpness creeping into her voice. "Which of you two lovers is going to be first?"
They looked at each other, grinning. "Hey, what about that, Braniff?" Don asked. "Which of us is going first? It was my idea, you know."
"Yeah, but you already fucked her once," Braniff said. "Looks like you could give firsts to your old buddy."
"I'll flip you for it," Don offered.
Braniff pulled a coin out of his pocket and handed it to Don. Don looked at both sides of it, then tossed it in the air, catching it neatly in his right hand and slapping it onto the back of his left. "Call it," he said.
"Heads."
Don lifted the hand covering the coin slowly. He peeked under his palm slyly. "Shit!" he breathed and Braniff grinned broadly. Don returned his grin good-naturedly and tossed the quarter back to him. Don got up and went over to the door. He pulled the chair out from under the knob and turned it around and straddled it. He settled down, ready to watch the show. Something in his eyes glinted like fire and Ellen realized more clearly than ever how high he was.
She felt her armpits moisten from nervousness. Braniff stood up and pulled his shirt off over his head. His hair hardly seemed to have been disturbed. His body was skinny to the point of emaciation. There was a red scar that curved from his chest down to the left side of his rib cage. It looked as though it had been made by some wicked knife. When he pushed his pants past his hips, she saw that he had nothing on under them. His cock was huge, so far out of proportion to the rest of him it was almost comical. But there was nothing comical in the sight to Ellen.
"Okay, chick," he said, giving her a leering grin. "You said you were ready. Let's get it on."
Ellen walked to the bed and stretched out. She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them again he was looming over her, looking down and obviously enjoying the sight of her stretched out there, naked and open to him. Ellen realized with a slight start that she had parted her legs without realizing it. Well, that was appropriate enough. And there was no sense in pulling them together, when she'd just have to spread them again.
"Move over, bitch," Braniff said softly. She froze for a moment, for some reason shocked by his language, then shoved herself over on the bed. making room for him. He sat on the edge of the bed and swung his feet up, stretching out next to her. "I feel like I need some warmin' up, bitch," he said without looking at her. "You know what I mean?"
From the look of his prick, he didn't need any warming up at all. But, of course, she knew what he meant. And what he wanted. And she knew there wasn't any way to keep from giving it to him.
She sat up, rearranged herself on the bed and moved down to a position next to his loins, kneeling over him. She brushed back the thick gold of her hair and bent over him. The hair fell forward again, brushing his skin. Ellen stared at his cock, swollen and throbbing with arousal. She licked her lips nervously and reached out with both hands, touching the cock, taking it into her grasp. The effect of her touch was very noticeable. But something else happened and though it probably shouldn't have, it surprised her.
She turned on, too. She had been scared a moment ago, scared and nervous and disgusted at what was happening to her and what she was being forced to do. But when her hands touched that living, throbbing prick she found herself suddenly aroused, her whole body trembling with desire and excitement and even a premature pleasure.
She thrust out her tongue and laid it on the tip of his cock. Braniff's whole body trembled at the touch of that wet, pink tongue. His lightly haired legs shifted and his body trembled a bit. She felt a sudden boldness sweep over her. She was in control now. She might not be able to refuse him what he wanted, but when it came to giving it, she was in command.
She took his cock into her mouth, just the head of it and began to suck lightly. At the same time she moved her tongue over the sensitive skin and played with his balls with one hand.
"Aaahhhh," he sighed.
Ellen moved her head about, bringing him new friction and fresh sensations by the movement. His body squirmed under her.
While one hand played with his balls, tickling and exciting him with the expertise of a woman who had sucked off a hundred men in the past eight years, she let her other hand move up and down the shaft of his cock. She tried various amounts of finger pressure until she found the amount that seemed to excite and please him the most. She used the edge of her finger and gave him just a bit of her fingernail to stimulate the nerves of his prick. He squirmed all the more and grunted his pleasure. Her tongue was still doing the greater part of the work, however. She moved it back and forth, seeking new places and new angles all the time, licking and sucking his cock for all she was worth.
"All right, bitch, goddamnit!" he grunted. When she didn't stop, he repeated, "I said all right!" He grabbed her arm, pulling her hand away from his cock. "Come on up here now. I want to stick it in you."
Ellen pulled her mouth away from his stiff prick reluctantly and moved up beside him on the bed. She stretched out, opening her legs. She had actually been enjoying herself sucking him, getting him more turned on than he had bargained for. She had even been prepared to let him come in her mouth. It would've been fun to feel that luscious prick throbbing and pumping out its juices against her tongue. But he was the boss, she thought resignedly and now he wanted to fuck her.
He piled right on top of her, missionary position. He certainly wasn't a very imaginative sexual athlete, she thought. He just put his weight on her, mashing her tits flat with his chest and then, groping between her legs with his hand, he pressed his cock between her cuntlips and inserted it into her. Then he thrust with his hips, driving his big cock fully. It was so huge it wrung a gasp from Ellen, filling her with flesh, stretching her delightfully.
He began to fuck her instantly, moving his hips up and down in a rapid rhythm. His cock rammed back and forth in her incessantly and despite Braniff's lack of imagination or subtlety, it couldn't help turning her on. Especially since she had already been turned on while sucking his cock. Her hips matched his rhythm. They had been doing that right from the beginning, mostly because she knew she had to please him if she didn't want to get hurt. But now her hips seemed to be working independently of her brain, grinding up against his with no more motivation than the pleasure that was shooting through her body in shocklike jolts.
"Uh-uh-uh-uh," she gasped as her hips worked in time with his, increasing the action of his cock through her cunt. The sensations seemed to race through her whole body now, rising in a constant spiral until she was caught up in such a fit of ecstasy she couldn't even think straight any longer. Her eyes grew glazed and heavy-lidded and her arms locked around his neck in a tight embrace. She drew her legs up a little, bending her knees and cradling him in the soft couch of her inner thighs.
The yielding caress of her thighs seemed to excite him, to make him even more virile. His prick thrust through her cunt with the force of a sword, driving up along her snatch and stroking the sensitive tissues of her cunt into full arousal.
"Uh! Uh! UH!" His voice came out in harsh grunts that filled her ears with their raspy noise. It was like music to her, because his orgasm matched her own. His cum flooded her, driving into her cunt and sending her to the heights of her own climax, drowning her in an orgasm that seemed to overwhelm her with its force. She clutched at him, pulling him into her body, holding to him with all the strength in her hands, as her face turned into a mask, contorted with pure delight.
"Oh! Shit! Fuck!" he growled as his cock spat its last glob of cum into her. Then it was over and he lay atop her exhausted, his cock softening quickly in her cunt. Finally, he pushed himself off of her and rolled onto his back.
As the heat of her loins died out, Ellen felt a twinge of guilt. She had succumbed as always, to the raging fire in her loins.
"That was all right, chick," Braniff said. He shoved himself up from the bed, stood looking down at her for a moment. She stared back up at him with unfocused eyes, noticed the limp and helpless cock that hung between his legs He pulled on his pants and shrugged into his shirt. Then, from the shadows, Don swaggered up to the side of the bed. He was naked. She hadn't seen or heard him undressing and assumed he had done it while she had been fucking with Braniff.
"Hi, Teach," he said. His eyes were even glassier than before and she guessed that he'd been popping pills while sitting and watching the little sex show she and his buddy had been putting on. His cock was stiff and straight, standing out from his body like a pole. To Ellen's surprise, the sight of it turned her on. That vague feeling of dissatisfaction she had felt turned into a fiery desire instantly. She hid the feeling because she was certain she wouldn't be able to stand it if he knew how she felt.
She lay looking up at him, keeping her eyes vacant. When he got on the bed, resting on one knee at first, then easing himself into a supine position, she felt the excitement well up in her. She looked away from him, hoping he would take it as an act of disgust. Her body was pulsing with desire already and he hadn't touched her yet.
"I'll take one of those little jobs you gave Braniff, Teach," he said with a grin. "One of those blowjobs, if you don't mind. Or even if you do mind."
"All right," she said, trying to keep her voice flat and even a bit reluctant. Actually, she could already taste his prick in her mouth and she was eager to make the sensation real.
She didn't kneel over him as she had for Braniff, because she was tired from everything that had already happened. And her muscles were a little bit stiff. Instead she reversed her position on the bed, sticking her feet up next to Don's head and placing her face next to his loins, curling her body up in as comfortable a position as she could manage. She rested her arms on his body; one on his belly, the other on his thighs. Then she let her weight rest on them. She took his cock in her hands, readjusted her position for maximum comfort and began to lick his cock with gusto. The desire in her loins was a raging furnace and she could only bank it with sexual contact. Her tongue dragged itself over the head of his cock in long strokes and he rewarded her with a grunt of pleasure at the first licking motion.
Ellen worked hard on his prick, laving it with her tongue, leaving trails of saliva. She let one hand slide down and begin to manipulate his balls, caressing them and tickling them until he was twitching with involuntary thrills of joy. His cock fairly throbbed with excitement and she felt a warm flush of pride and happiness at the way she was using his body to make him feel the things she wished.
"Uh! Christ!" he grunted and she closed her mouth over the knob of his prick and pressed her tongue against it, moving her tongue with enough pressure to create a nice friction.
She continued to play with his nuts with one hand and as she had done with Braniff, moved the other hand up and down the shaft of his prick while she sucked his cock expertly, working her cheeks and tongue at once.
"Oh, Christ," he groaned, almost as though he were in pain.
She took her mouth off his prick because she didn't want him to come too soon. She was enjoying herself thoroughly and there was no sense in ending the party prematurely. While she was giving the head of his cock a rest, she ducked her head down and began to lick his balls and crotch, stopping from time to time to work up a fresh store of spit. She did it noisily, because she had learned that men often found that sound exciting. And she was certain that Don wouldn't be any exception to that rule.
He had had enough time to catch his second wind. She didn't want him to gain too much control. She was in command of this little party now and she wanted to keep it that way.
She took his cockhead into her mouth once again, then let her lips slide down farther, gripping his shaft. She worked her head and shoulders up and down, using her back muscles and her arms to power the motion and exerted a nice friction with her lips. She pulled her lips in over the edge of her teeth to protect him from her teeth and at the same time allow her to exert pressure with her lips for a long time without tiring.
"Uhhhh... oooohhhh... uhhh... "
The sounds that escaped from his throat now were whimpers instead of cries. He was bathed in sweat. She accelerated the motions of her head, determined to make him come in her mouth. The thought of it excited her.
But he wasn't having any of that. Possibly because of what had happened between them a week earlier and the way she had humiliated him over the fact that he had come in her mouth, he was determined to get into her. He grabbed her arm and tugged at it and she knew what he intended and reluctantly she complied.
But the reluctance was short lived. The moment his cock was out of her mouth and she was turning herself around, she felt a stab of fierce desire at the thought of having that cock shoved where it belonged. Her cunt was suddenly sopping wet with excitement. She had been about to lie next to him and let him mount her, but now, instead, she rose over him. She threw a leg over him, straddling him as she would have a horse and reaching down between her thighs, took hold of his prick and placed it between her cuntlips. She squatted on it hard, driving the stiff and swollen cock deep into her cunt.
She sat on him, staring down with a look of triumph, feeling the superiority of her position, the superiority of her will and her experience and the command she had taken of this situation despite his switchblade and the brutality with which he had threatened her.
She began to move her hips in a slow, circular motion, massaging his cock with the walls of her cunt, giving them both a fine, soft feeling. The friction sent a glow of delight spreading slowly through her cunt and up into her belly, down into her thighs, all over her body. She tingled with the feeling and closed her eyes and moaned softly.
"Oh, shit! Shit! God, Christ, shit!" His words came out in a flood and his body worked in time with hers, churning and pumping and she knew that she had turned him on very high, because he wasn't able to keep his cool now, when she was barely started with the actual fucking and was only giving his cock a mild, soft caress with the inside of her cunt.
She knew he wasn't going to hold very long and she decided that she wasn't going to be cheated. She would use every trick she had ever learned to keep him going for as long as possible.
She stopped her movements, holding, very still, throwing her head back and letting him grab hold of himself. She opened her thighs as wide as possible, until it was slightly painful to rest her weight on them, because she knew this would stretch her cunt wide-open and provide less support and less contact with his prick. She pulled herself up a little bit, too, letting his cock emerge part way from her cunt, the pressure and contact were lessened further.
He lay quite still for a long time and she even felt his cock soften, not a lot, but perceptibly and she knew that he was back in control of himself. He was back in control, she thought with a burst of pride bordering on arrogance, because she, in her generosity, had decided to grant him control. Well, not exactly generosity, she thought with wry humor. She was determined to get hers out of this and if he couldn't control himself well enough, then she had to use her considerable skills to turn him on and off like a tap. And she was just the girl to do it.
She started to fuck again, moving in that same circular motion for a while and then, slowly, experimentally, she started to move up and down, stroking the length of his cock with the walls of her cunt.
"Oh, SHIT!" he cried out, pounding the sheet with a doubled fist.
Despite the fact that she was held in the thrall of a pleasure as intense and demanding as his own, it was hard for Ellen to keep from giggling. It was fun controlling him like this. She didn't know why, in the eight years she'd been fucking, it had never occurred to her before that enslaving a man to the rages of his own loins was a pleasure in itself. Perhaps she had been too busy feeding the burning hunger of her own body to take time to enjoy the pleasures of such power. Only in the past weeks, only since she had started to fuck with this boy, had she learned of her capacity to control men.
She began to flex her cunt, working it like a fist. It was something she had learned to do years before, quite by accident. It was tiring and difficult, but she knew from past experience that nothing turned a man on better. She shut her eyes and concentrated on the task, utilizing the voluntary convulsions of her belly muscles to work and caress his prick. She felt his body tense and he cried out again, more loudly and intensely than ever.
As he writhed in an agony of joy, she bent down over him, leaning close and letting her face come near his. She smiled softly and let the long blonde cascade of her hair play over his face. He hardly seemed to see her, even when his eyes were open, which wasn't much of the time. He was shivering and quaking with ecstasy, his whole body flexing as the waves of pleasure shot through him in rapid succession. She knew that he was close to coming and she stopped the practiced flexing of her cunt and began to move up and down again, stroking herself more firmly and violently than before. Soon she, too, was feeling wild waves of joy, her body tingling with the intense ecstasy that filled her like shock waves.
When the orgasm hit, it was a massive one. Her nipples stiffened into pebbles and she bit her lip to try to stifle the cry of joy that wrenched itself free of her throat.
Then she slumped forward, her shoulders bent and her whole body limp with exhaustion. After a moment she slipped to the side and lay on the bed.
Don rose and put on his clothes.
"Come on, get dressed," he said to Braniff.
"Huh? But I wanna go again," his buddy objected.
"Don't talk like a goddamn asshole," Don said.
Ellen saw Braniff's body stiffen in anger and for a moment she was afraid she might be about to witness a vicious fight. But Don soothed him.
"What I'm trying to say, is that if we stick around too long, we're likely to get caught. Someone might come in, or hear the noise over here and call the pigs. Now we've had a good time and we don't have to pay for it. Why push things?" He smiled and Braniff smiled back.
"I dig, man," he said.
Don looked over at Ellen and there was something in his glance that told her there was more to his reason for wanting to leave now than the excuse he had just given to his buddy.
They were gone moments later, leaving her lying there, still naked and exhausted. She knew she should feel shame and disgust over what had just happened. But she didn't feel anything like that.
All she felt was a deep exhaustion and an equally deep peace. The peace filled her whole body and she lay in it as though it were a pool of warm, still water, soaking it into her very being. She looked up at the ceiling and smiled softly and even hummed a little time to herself once in a while. She didn't know how long she lay there like that, but it was a long time.
It wasn't until she was on the verge of falling asleep that it occurred to her that for the first time in her life her lust was fulfilled and she felt nothing but deep peace. For the first time in her sexual existence, she had conquered the vague frustration that had always been her enemy...
CHAPTER SEVEN
After the night when the two boys raped her, or thought they did, Ellen thought about what had happened and came to the conclusion that either she was the kind of woman who responded to rape and the threat of violence from a male, which she didn't believe, or else she simply needed more than one man to satisfy the sexual urge that boiled within her.
The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that the latter conclusion was the correct one. She had always enjoyed sex, had always achieved an orgasm. But she had never before achieved the complete satisfaction she had known on that night. It was only logical to conclude that although one man could raise her to the heights of ecstasy, she needed at least two of them to leave her totally satisfied.
It was an enticing thought and one not without a certain charm. But at the same time, this theory was scary, too. Because even if she were willing to accept herself as she was, she knew that society wouldn't. Still, Ellen knew herself well enough to know that there was no sense in debating the merits of the two courses left open to her, because she would yield to the drive that had always been in her. Sooner or later, now that she knew, or thought she knew, what she needed to attain peace with herself, she would get it and to hell with the consequences.
So, instead of wasting her time and energy debating with herself on the wisdom of following that course, it would be smart to think up the safest way of doing it.
She would let Don Jethro use her, but on her terms. She would make a deal with him that would give them both what they wanted from each other, but that wouldn't interfere with her relationship with Leo. She was in love with Leo. She was ready to admit that now, though she knew that marriage was even less wise than it had been before. A man like Leo would certainly never stand for a wife who had to be shared with other men. So she would just enjoy her relationship with Leo for as long as possible.
The next day, at the end of the third period, she said, "Don Jethro, will you please remain for a moment?"
The other students filed out, while Ellen hoped that she wasn't blushing and giving away something to them. But none of them seemed even to have noticed that she had asked Don to stay. When they were all gone and Don was standing next to his desk, Ellen went to the door and closed it. She had left it locked at the beginning of the class period, deliberately, so the spring lock would catch when she closed the door.
"Would you please come up to my desk, Don?" she requested and he swaggered to the front of the room. She sat down and looked across the desk at him.
"I have a proposition," she said without smiling. "I've decided to give you an A on that paper I assigned you." Of course, he hadn't written the paper and they both knew it, but he didn't even smirk at her offer. She went on without pause, gratified at the steadiness and businesslike tone of her voice. "I've also decided to give you a B for the course. Any higher than that might cause comment, don't you think?"
"Yeah." He looked and sounded a bit skeptical, as though he were waiting for the stinger in the proposition.
"In return for this and whatever help I can give you in your other classes and relationships with teachers, which should be plenty, you will agree to do certain things for me."
"Yeah, I want to hear about those things," he said.
"You will agree to come to my apartment whenever I ask you to do so. You'll come on any night I ask you and you will be very discreet about it. You won't tell anyone, or let anyone know that it's happening. That includes your friend Braniff."
He grinned at that, but she thought the grin was forced a little. She dismissed the thought.
"As I say, you will come whenever I ask you and also you will leave when I say. There will be no rough stuff. If you try any of that, the deal is off. You'll be throwing away a pretty sweet setup. This can be a long-term deal if you want that. So if you agree to my terms, I think you'd be a fool to upset things. Your choice will be between a very sweet bargain on the one hand and a bad time on the other. Because I'll make it very hot for you, dear. And please don't think I'm bluffing."
"No, I don't think you're bluffing," he said with new respect in his voice. "I've seen the look you got in your eye, Teach. But only in men. And only when I was just about to have a real mean fight with one of them."
"Good. Then you know I mean business."
"There's just one thing. I don't see why you want to give me a deal like this. What have I done for you and what are you gettin' out of it? You that hot for my bod?"
"That's another of the terms, Don. You don't ask for my reasons. I could hardly be setting some kind of revenge trap for you. If this got out, I'd stand to lose a lot more than you, as you well know. On the other hand, I'd like to remind you that you would stand to lose a great deal yourself. Your record isn't very good and if you try to double-cross me in any way, I'll holler rape so loud they'll hear me on the moon."
"Okay, so neither of us double-crosses the other, because we both got a lot to lose. And I don't ask questions."
"That's right. That's my deal and I think it's a good one. By the way, on the nights I don't want you, you're on your own."
"That's real generous, Teach."
"I just thought I'd make it clear. Now, is it a deal?"
He didn't even hesitate. "It's a deal, Teach. And it's gonna be a pure pleasure doin' business with you."
That night he came to her apartment at eight o'clock, as agreed. He came in quietly and she left the door unlocked for him, so he wouldn't even have to ring the bell. It occurred to Ellen that it might be wise, in the future, to find some other place to meet him. Maybe she could rent a room in another part of town, under an assumed name. It was worth a thought anyway. She couldn't keep seeing him here, obviously. Sooner or later the neighbors would be bound to notice and start to chatter about it.
The moment he came in the door, he swaggered to her in the kitchen, where she was making herself a drink, took her in his arms and kissed her long and hard, running one hand under her robe and thrilling her with his fingers. She leaned into him with a quick desire, her heart pounding, her breath fast and shallow, her nipples standing out like pencil erasers.
"How about makin' me one of those?" he asked, looking at the drink after the kiss.
"Take that one," she said.
He picked up the highball and took a swallow while Ellen got down another glass and poured herself a fresh one.
They went into the bedroom without mentioning it, both propelled by the knowledge that he had come for just one reason.
They finished their drinks quickly. Then Ellen shrugged off her robe and turned down the bed while Don took off his jacket, Levi's and underwear. She lay on the bed and he came to her. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and placed a hand on one of her tits. He cupped it, kneaded it luxuriously, then bent low, still working her tit and kissed her again. Ellen's body warmed to his touch, her cunt flooded itself and she realized that the anticipation and the talk she had had with him earlier, coupled with the possibility that he, at last, could be the solution to the problem that had plagued her for eight years, had turned her on full blast.
There was nothing artful or subtle about Don. His hands moved over her with simple delight, with a child's honest and straightforward enjoyment. His mouth did the same, closing over one of her tits and wetting it with his tongue.
"How 'bout suckin' me, Teach?" he whispered.
"Stretch out," she instructed.
She moved over to give him room and he lay on the bed beside her. She swapped ends, lying next to him with her face near his crotch, her knees bent slightly to keep her feet from pressing against the headboard. She took his stiffened cock in her hands and began to lick it. He grunted and shivered at her touch. Then he quieted down as she continued to lick away at his prick, moving her tongue over it lightly, with relish, with real enjoyment. She felt the same kind of power she had known the night of the "rape", the ability to bring this man to a state of helplessness through the pleasure she could give to him.
She took the head of his cock into her mouth, closing her lips softly but firmly behind the ridge and began to move her lips and tongue over the sensitive skin at the same time. The response was immediate and potent. The little grunts of pleasure he'd been emitting gave way to greater, more intense sounds of ecstasy. It was a pleasant experience to wring such cries from him with so little effort.
She began to rock her head back and forth, giving him a luxurious friction that would've turned on a dead man. At the same time she kept her tongue forward in her mouth so that with each forward movement of her head it came into contact with the tip of Don's prick.
He twisted and turned on the bed, pounding the sheet under him with a doubled fist, crying out in loud grunts as the pleasure grabbed hold of him and racked him like a huge and powerful hand.
"Mmmmmmm... " Ellen intoned softly as she continued to suck and lick the cock. She was amazed at his self-control. He was doing remarkably well at holding back. She knew she could still make him come if she really wanted to, but it was obvious that he was improving his control. Don's lessons were beginning to take effect, she thought and if he continued to improve at this rate, she might just have to give him an A after all.
The thought made her laugh inside, but her mouth was too full of cock for her to express her mirth audibly. She sucked harder, giving him an extra thrill and was gratified when he was able to hold back.
She didn't really want to make him come in her mouth. She was just intrigued by the thought of seeing how much it would take to set him off despite his best efforts.
This night she wanted him to get into her cunt and she decided not to push things too far. If he had an accident, she'd be pushing it, because even an iron horse like Don couldn't get it back up right after coming. And she might not have time to get it on with him again.
So she held off, just licking and sucking lightly, gauging his reactions, pacing him and herself. Her mouth was starting to get a little tired anyway and she'd need it later, so she gave his cock one last caress with lips and tongue and pulled her face back. Then she leaned down and licked his balls for him, just to make sure he remembered to keep his cock stiff for her while she changed position.
"All right, honey," she whispered. "Now you think you can put that where it'll do both of us some good?" She chuckled and stretched out beside him. She turned onto her side, facing him and he turned onto his side, too. They came together and she raised her left leg and laid it on his waist, bending her knee sharply and hooking her ankle on his hip.
Don thrust his leg between her thighs and she reached down, took his cock in her fingers and inserted it between the lips of her cunt. His hips thrust forward, driving the stiff cock deep into her.
"Aaahhh," Ellen sighed at the feeling of the shaft penetrating the depths of her cunt.
As usual, Don didn't wait around or waste any time with subtlety. He started fucking right away, his hips driving his cock like a machine. The feel of it dragging through her was a beautiful thing to Ellen. She moaned softly, her eyes glazing almost instantly with pleasure. Her body shivered with a thrill of joy and she felt herself go into an almost dreamy state as the sensations lulled her with their sweetness. Her hips matched the slow thrusting of his. At least, she thought, he had learned enough lately not to jam his cock to her with maximum speed and force right from the initial penetration. The boy was learning something about fucking, she thought almost proudly.
Her cunt lubricated itself generously and his cock slipped through her with a well-oiled slickness, making a wet sound with each thrust and each withdrawal. His hand rested on her hip, guiding her and keeping her in time, not that it was needed. But it was pleasant to feel the hand there and the guidance and control it offered. Ellen moaned softly as they continued to fuck with a gentle slowness, their bodies coming together in soft, slapping motions and sending the sounds of fucking through the bedroom.
"Uh!" Don grunted softly and his hand tightened just a bit. He began to accelerate his fucking motions, bringing them together more quickly than before, driving his cock with greater force.
She took his cue, allowed him control of the situation, since it pleased her to do so at the moment. She sped up her own body, moving against him more frequently and with greater force than before.
It was a delicious friction that they shared, a tingling feeling that struck from their genitals like sparks and flashed through their bodies, heating them, growing ever stronger as their efforts grew more intense.
She decided it was time to get it over with. Actually, she still had plenty of time left, but she decided she might as well get on with things.
She took the lead from him, moving with greater force and speed, driving her body against his and forcing him to accept the faster tempo. His body responded to her, even though she felt a reluctance in him. He was obviously trying to make it last as long as he could, but that hungry, primitive body of his wouldn't let him fight her, or at least not fight her effectively.
His cock seemed to grow even bigger and harder inside her cunt and he thrust it with pile-driver force, ramming it through her snatch and producing a merciless pleasure that she gobbled up with her own savage passion.
Her cunt was sopping wet, which was fortunate, because the friction of his big prick was growing greater by the second. He rammed and pulled and rammed again, driving his cock through her until she was screaming with delight, her voice tight and shrill as the pleasure threatened to blow the top of her head off.
He was so caught up in the frantic fucking now that he pulled her into his body with savage force, pushed her back for another run, then pulled her forward once again as his own hips thrust toward her.
"Uh! Shit!" he grunted and she knew he was close to coming.
Then her own pleasure hit a peak. It wasn't the big one yet, but it was something very nice, a tingly climax that moved over her body like a warm wave, leaving gooseflesh in its wake.
Then her orgasms were coming in quick succession as Ellen's cries pierced the room's silence again and again and he joined her with his harsh grunts, making up a duet of orgasmic joy.
She hit her peak before he reached his and felt a considerable sense of relief over that fact. She had been afraid that he might just come before she made it; then, not only would she be cheated, but at the same time she would be robbed of the chance to give her "theory" a valid test.
Then his cum flooded into her cunt and he grunted and cursed into her ear, his voice loud and harsh and urgent. His cock spat gallons of cum into her snatch and drove it up into her womb and she shivered with pleasure.
When it was over he fell away from her and lay drawing air into his lungs. They were both soaked with sweat. Ellen rose and sat on the opposite edge of the bed for a while. She felt him shift his position, sensed his eyes on her back. She stood up and went into the bathroom and turned on the taps in the shower and adjusted them; then she went back into the bedroom. He was still lying on the bed. "You'll have to leave now," she said, trying to keep her voice as courteous as possible. She didn't want to offend the bastard, because there was no way of knowing what he might do if she did that. He looked up at her and she saw the germ of a scowl on his face.
"Why?" he asked.
"Look, Don, you agreed to my terms this morning. One of the terms was that you come and go as I say. Another was that you don't ask any questions. Now we've had a good time. There isn't any reason to go into my whys and wherefores now. Please leave. When I want you again, I'll tell you and it will probably be soon. All right?"
He didn't seem to like the bargain he had made now, but he rose from the bed and put on his clothes. "Okay," he said. "You're the boss."
She watched him leave the apartment, then she went in and took her shower. She was careful not to get her hair wet, because there would certainly be no chance to dry it before Leo arrived.
* * *
After making her date with Don that day, she had waited through the following periods until lunch, so that she could talk to Leo. He seemed to have been avoiding her recently and she supposed it was because of the way she had turned down his insistent pleas for marriage. He'd been that way several times before, but he had always come around again, when his temper cooled off and his libido had warmed up. Still, it always made her uneasy until she had him safely back in her bed. She never knew just when he might decide to give up on her.
So she had gone to the faculty lounge with some trepidation. Leo was there, eating his brown-bag lunch, as always. There were a few others in the lounge, too, but the seat next to Leo was vacant, so she slid into it. He looked at her blankly for a moment and Ellen knew he was trying to decide whether to give up on his anger or to drop her. Evidently he was hornier than he was mad. He smiled.
"Hi, love," he said.
She felt a flood of relief. She had been more worried than she had realized, which meant she loved him more than she wanted to admit.
"Hi," she said. "I was just on my way to the cafeteria to get a sandwich. You want to walk over with me, handsome?"
"Sure."
On the way to the cafeteria, she made the excuse of getting her purse to get him into her classroom. As soon as she had the door closed she came into his arms and kissed him deeply. It was a long and satisfying kiss.
"I've been needing that," she said. "Why don't you stop being a stranger to me and come over tonight?"
"I have a class tonight," he said and she heard disappointment in his voice.
"I'm open all night, you know. You could take a toothbrush to class, then stop by afterward for the night."
She knew by his hesitation that he had been thinking things over these past few days and had probably told himself that he had to break off with her. But, as she had hoped, he didn't have the will power to go through with it.
"All right," he said. "It sounds like a deal."
* * *
When she was finished with her shower, she stripped the bed and put on fresh sheets. Then she ran a brush through her hair and put on her nicest nightie, a brand-new red one she had bought a week earlier and never worn. Tonight was definitely the occasion.
Leo arrived at ten-thirty. He looked a little tired when he walked in, but when he saw her sitting on the couch watching TV and waiting for him, his eyes lighted and his whole body seemed to take on fresh vigor. He stood up straighter. She hoped something else was standing up, too.
She stood and they kissed. That other thing was standing up, all right. She felt the lump in his pants and because she was excited and in an impish kind of mood, it gave her an idea.
She dropped to her knees in front of him. He seemed to know what she intended. His hands rested on her shoulders and he stood straight and still while she pulled his zipper down.
As soon as she had his fly open, she fished inside and pulled out his cock, working awkwardly with it because it was stiff with desire. Ellen held the big prick tenderly, then began to lick it, moving her tongue over it lightly at first, caressing the tip of the cock wetly and kissing it from time to time. Then she reached up and opened his belt, unhooked the top of his pants and let them fall around his knees. She pulled his shorts down, too. She caressed his balls with her fingers while she used her other hand to steady his cock and hold it in place for more tongue work. She kissed the tip of it, then began to move her tongue up over the length of the shaft, leaving a trail of saliva as she went. His hands were her gauge, tightening and relaxing on her shoulders as she went along, telling her his response with almost electronic precision. She knew those hands well and she could read the pressure they exerted almost without thinking about it.
She took the head of his cock into her mouth and sucked lightly while he let out little moans of pleasure. She could feel the tension in his body and especially in his hands. She stopped sucking his cock and licked his balls and his crotch, wetting them down well. She knew he liked that. She knew his likes from start to finish and could always turn him on and excite him and then please him totally.
She broke off and looked up at him with a soft and inviting smile. Then she rose gracefully to her feet, took his hands in hers and backed toward the bedroom, pulling him along with her. He had to pull one hand free and hold his pants up. They both laughed at that.
She had left the bedside lamp on and the room was soft with shaded light. Ellen saw his eyes glance at the turned-down bed and she took him there, stopped and opened her robe. Under it was the red nightie, transparent and thin. His eyes moved over her then and she felt them as she had felt his hands before, a light caress that was sensuous in the way it moved over her skin.
She pulled the nightie off and lay on the bed, shoving the bedding aside and moving over to give him room. He dropped his pants, bent down and yanked them off over his shoes. Then he pulled his shoes and socks off, took off his shirt and he was as naked. The sight of his body excited her, as it always did.
He lay next to her, pulled her toward him and began to caress her body, holding one tit and cupping it; then he kissed her on the mouth, a deep, wet kiss that sent thrills of excitement through Ellen's body. His hands did their work well, as always, sliding over her skin and sending tingly joy all through her with their light caresses.
Their bodies moved together on the bed and she felt his cock between her legs, hard and throbbing and still slightly wet from the sucking she had given it.
He reached down and pulled her leg up over his hip, hooking it there. She thrust her own hand between them before he could do it and took his prick in her hand. She centered it between the lips of her cunt and fed it into her pussy. His thrusting hips completed the penetration, driving the hard cock deep into her cunt.
"Mmmmmmm... " she murmured softly as the cock soothed and excited her at once with its bulk. It was big and hard and it seemed to fill her and stretch her and throb within her and she wished that it could stay like that always and that they could just lie there without moving. It was a wonderful feeling.
But, of course, it wasn't enough for either of them and in a moment Leo began to move his hips, pushing and pulling slowly, driving his cock through her in slow and luxurious movements that sent little sparks of joy along her spine. His hand rested on her hip, guiding her and she responded to it and to his body, matching his cadence with the thrusts of her own hips.
"Oh, honey," he breathed, his words no more than an exhalation in her ear.
"Yes, baby, yes," she answered, her voice coming out in a throaty moan. She was caught up in more than pleasure now. She felt an overwhelming affection, a passion of tenderness, as she always did when Leo fucked her. Ellen felt the joys of her body strongly, but there was so much more when she was doing it with him.
"Oh, Jesus, honey, I love you," he said, caressing her, drawing her body in even closer, tighter against his own. "I love you so much, Ellen, baby."
"I love you, too, Leo," she said as she had often said before in moments like this, when her body weakened her resolve and she surrendered her good intentions and the logic that told her it was unwise to admit such feelings to Leo.
They lay together for long moments that way, his hips working slowly, tenderly, lovingly, sliding his cock up her cunt in long, luxurious thrusts and pulling it back slowly.
Then Leo took the lead again, accelerating slightly and the tingle of pleasure increased. Ellen felt it shoot through her flesh in rippling waves and her skin broke out in gooseflesh.
"Hhhhhhh... " Her breath came out in a long, ragged sigh as the pleasure grew to a soft but significant glow that filled her body, more intense in the area of her cunt and diminishing as it radiated out toward her head and feet. The soft flesh of her thighs seemed to warm and tingle as the pleasure coursed through her. She could feel the tightening of Leo's hand on her hip and she knew that he was feeling the same increase in the intensity of joy that she was responding to.
As though by a common decision, their bodies began to accelerate and increase the intensity of their thrusts more rapidly, more insistently than before. The liquid sounds of his prick shoving its way through her wet cunt grew louder, until the sound itself was a turn-on and the slapping of their bellies together reinforced it, making them more insistent yet and the pleasure was mounting to peak intensity now and they were thrusting and pulling, their hands and arms helping in the motion as it grew too fast and too powerful for the action of their hip and back and ass muscles alone.
Ellen could feel herself reaching a climax and she opened her mouth wide and threw her head back, drawing air into her lungs. Her eyes were half-closed, glazed with passion. She felt his breath on her throat, felt the hairy expanse of his broad chest slapping against her tits, flattening them with each thrust.
Then the climax came, a small, preliminary one that shook her a little, loosening her joints and making the tingling of her skin come to a head. She gasped with it and made little cooing sounds of satisfaction afterward. Leo's voice answered hers with soothing moans. Ellen moaned softly; then the second climax came and it was followed instantly by another. Each was more potent than the one before and she felt herself glow with pleasure, her body riding from crest to crest with hardly a dip in between and each crest mounting to a higher point.
Then the big one hit and it shook her like a ragdoll. Her whole body whipped and quivered with it and she cried out in an agony of pleasure, an ecstasy that was so intense it robbed her of her sanity for a moment.
"UH!" she cried. "Oh! Oh, JESUS!"
Then she felt Leo's hands grip her more tightly and his cock was so rigid it almost hurt as it continued to ram inside her cunt like a piston.
This his cock spat its load into her, spewing it in gobs that came out one after another, split seconds apart and at the same time cries and grunts of ecstasy were torn from his throat.
His ass clenched repeatedly, ramming his cock through her cunt with the authority of a powerful machine. His grunts and her cries of pleasure mingled with one another and were lost; then one last great gob of cum shot into her cunt and up into her womb and she screamed with delight. Then it was over.
They lay that way for a long time, his softening cock still in her cunt, their bodies molded together, his hands playing over her with the simple delight of tactile enjoyment.
Finally they parted.
Finally Ellen rose from the bed. She looked down at him and smiled tenderly. "Booze or coffee tonight?" she asked.
"I think a drink would be right," he said. "Help to put us to sleep."
"You mean you need something to relax you after what we just did?" she asked with an impish grin. "I think I'm losing my talent."
"Just bring the drink, wench. And don't spare the alcohol."
"Yes, Master."
She went into the kitchen, poured two stiff drinks, then took the drinks back into the bedroom and handed one to him.
"To us," he said.
"I'll drink to that." She tossed off a quarter of her drink in time with him. She held the glass carefully as she lowered herself to the bed and stretched out close beside him, lying in the hollow of his arm.
"It was great tonight," he said.
His voice sounded tentative, as though he were leading up to something. But she felt a glow of satisfaction that she hardly took notice.
"Mmmm-hmmmm," she said softly.
"You know, I think it was the best it's ever been for us." When she didn't answer, he took another swig of his drink before he asked, "Don't you think so?"
"Yes, but let's not talk it to death, though. You shouldn't talk about something that's perfect."
"It was perfect, wasn't it?"
"That's right, dear." She closed her eyes and relaxed. "Perfect."
"You know, I knew it was perfect. For me. And I was pretty sure it was perfect for you. Better than it's ever been before. But I'm glad you said so. Because I think it's just all the more reason we should make it legal."
She felt a sinking feeling, a kind of sad, monotonous disappointment. Talking it to death seemed to be exactly what he intended to do.
"It's late," she whispered. "Let's get some sleep." It was a clumsy attempt to shut him up and doomed from the outset.
He looked a little annoyed. "Why won't you even talk about it?" he demanded.
"Because it's impossible. I've told you that time and again. Now why can't you just enjoy what we have, the way I do and stop demanding more?"
Because what we have isn't enough for me. I love you and I want the whole shot. I want a home for us and kids. I want to introduce you to my friends as my wife. All those corny, old-fashioned things."
Ellen bit her lip. Damn it, did he really think she didn't want the same things? Was he blind? Why did he have to make it so hard for her?
"Darling, please," she said soothingly. "I enjoy our relationship as much as you do and I want to keep it up. But let's not talk about marriage any more. At least not tonight, all right?"
"I'm not going to be put off that easily any more, Ellen," he said. "I'm not going to be put off at all."
"Leo- "
"I've been thinking about us the past couple of days. I haven't been able to think of anything else. I've been going through the motions at school and my own school work at college has gone to hell, too. We have to have this out once and for all. I love you."
"Leo, please, don't ruin- "
"And you love me, too. You said so just minutes ago and you certainly sounded convincing about it."
"Leo, I can hardly be held accountable for what I said in the middle of- "
"Don't shit me, goddamnit," he said, giving her a little shake. "You love me. I know you do. And if there's some reason why we can't marry, I want to know what it is."
"Well, you can't know!" she snapped, at the end of her patience. "You'll just have to take my word that the reason exists." The moment she said the words she was sorry, because she could see and feel and sense, that something had changed in that moment, that she had seen a page turn in their relationship and there was no turning it back, ever.
"No, I don't, Ellen," he said softly, almost tenderly. There was a sadness in his voice. "I don't have to take your word for anything any longer."
He rose from the bed and started to dress.
Ellen sat in the middle of the bed like a lost child, watching him with a feeling of despair. "Don't leave me, Leo," she begged. "Please, darling, don't leave me!"
He was already dressed. "Don't you see that I have to, honey? Can't you see that this arrangement is killing me?"
He stood looking at her for a moment and he looked as if he were ready to cry. Then, suddenly, he bent over the bed and taking her face in his two big hands, he kissed her on the mouth. It wasn't a deep, erotic kiss, such as they had shared so recently, but a friendly, loving kiss. It was a good-bye kiss, she thought sorrowfully.
"Good-bye, baby," he said in a pain-racked voice. Then he turned and walked out of the bedroom so fast she didn't even have time to frame a protest in her mind. She heard the front door close softly a moment later.
It had started out as such a lovely night, she thought. And now it had turned into this. She had lost Leo, the only man who had ever meant anything to her beyond a quick fuck. The only man she had ever loved and possibly the only one she ever would love.
She curled up on the bed and began to cry...
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next night Don showed up at Ellen's apartment without an invitation and she was in no mood for him.
"This isn't part of the agreement," she said. "I didn't ask you here tonight, Don. Now please leave."
He only stared at her and the look in his eyes was so savage and so vague at the same time, that she knew he was high on some kind of drug.
"Fuck the agreement, Teach," he said, his voice thick and not quite in control. "We got a new deal."
"I don't know what you're talking about, but if you don't get out of here this instant, you'll be dealing yourself out altogether."
"I saw your boyfriend last night," he said. Something in his voice made the words more than just startling. They were scary. "I saw him and I even saw who he was. Crandall. The fucking math teacher from the fucking school. So that's why you wanted me out of here so goddamn fast. Get the prelims over and make way for the main event. Get the second string out, because the varsity is comin' in."
"Don, this isn't- "
"Well, goddamn it!" he roared suddenly, making her jump with fright. He grabbed her arms and shook her roughly. "I'm through bein' the second string! You understan'? I'm through with it! Either you wise up, or I'll wise you up, Teach."
"Stop it, Don. You're not making any sense at all and if you keep on like this, you're likely to say something you'll be sorry for."
"I'm not much for talk, Teach," he said in a voice that was heavy with threat. "What's more likely is that I'll do somethin' you'll be sorry for."
"I'm not afraid of you, Don," Ellen said firmly. The thing that surprised her was that it was true. He really didn't scare her at all. Perhaps she was too overwrought already because of Leo's defection to worry about whatever it was Don was threatening to do.
"Well, maybe we can change that, Teach."
He grabbed her by the hair, pulled her toward him so quickly and so roughly, it made her teeth rattle. Ellen gasped and very suddenly she did feel fear. He pulled on the handful of hair, twisting her head to one side until her neck hurt from the pressure. Then he slapped her, hard, three times. The sting of the slaps was painful, but more than that, it scared her by lending reality to his threats.
"There," he said. "Now maybe you're a little bit scared of me, eh, Teach?"
"Let go of me, you adolescent bastard!" she hissed.
"You fuckin' bitch!" he screamed and hit her in the belly with a huge fist.
The pain was excruciating. Her face turned into a mask of agony and she couldn't straighten up.
"You made me do that, Teach," Don said, his voice somehow sullen and contrite at the same time. "I didn't wanna hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you, Teach."
He grasped her arms and pulled her upright, yanking her against him. The pain in her middle was still throbbing, but Ellen found herself almost oblivious to it as his words ran into her ears. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"I want you to be my girl, Teach. Just my girl. I don't want you to see nobody else. I'll be good to you, Teach. I promise you. You'll see. I know how to treat a girl if I really dig her."
It was almost more frightening to hear this from him than the threats she had heard before. It was like receiving a proposal of marriage from the Frankenstein monster. Ellen didn't know what to say. She was flustered and the first words that occurred to her popped out of her mouth, because they were literally true.
"I could never be... just your girl, Don."
They were badly chosen words and Don reacted as she would've expected.
"All right, Teach," he said, his voice a hissing, rumbling animal sound. "If that's it, if you think I'm a piece of shit that's try in' to stick to your fuckin' shoe, I guess there's nothin' we can do about it. But if that's what you think I am, then I guess I'll just have to live up to it." He shoved her away from him and as the distance between them widened, he drove his fist into her belly again. "I wouldn't want to disappoint you!" he roared.
She was doubled up with pain again and before she could even think of straightening up, much less running away, he hooked a huge hand in the neckline of her sweater and yanked downward. His strength was astounding. The heavy, expensive sweater tore clear down the front, baring her to the waist except for the white nylon bra she was wearing.
Somewhere she found the strength to stand and make a dash for the door. It was futile, of course, but she tried. She couldn't scream yet, which was her only hope. She was really afraid now, because she was certain that he meant to kill her.
He grabbed her arm and swung her around like a man tossing a doll. He drove her to the couch and she bounced wildly with the impact. She almost rolled to the floor, but managed to get her feet under her and make another try. He was between her and the door.
Ellen still didn't have enough wind to scream, but she managed to croak a plea. "Don, for God's sake, think! Please don't do- "
"Save your breath, Teach," he said. His hand dipped into his jacket pocket and when it came out there was a snicking sound and a flash of light on steel.
It was the same knife he'd had the other night. He came toward her slowly and she tried to back away. But the couch was to one side of her and behind her was a blank wall that seemed to mock her with its unyielding surface.
"Don, please," she begged. "Please don't hurt me... I didn't mean- " He moved toward her, the knife glittering evilly in his hand. He brought the knife up slowly, laid the edge of the blade against her face and moved it down slowly. It felt very sharp and she pressed her head back against the wall and held very still, because it could cut her if she moved.
He slid the knife down to her chin, pressed the point against her, then slipped it down to her throat. She whimpered as the knife slid down over the center of her bra. When it was below the bra, he stopped for a moment and moved it back up under the garment. He slid the blade under the center of the bra, pulled out on it and made a brief slicing motion.
Ellen gasped and nearly screamed as the bra fell away from her tits, hanging from the shoulder straps and leaving her exposed. Don moved the knife against her left tit and pressed lightly against the nipple. It stung and the pain, though small, was sharp enough to make her pull back more tightly against the wall.
He moved the knife down from her tits and slid it over her flat, bare belly. It scratched her slightly as he guided it toward the waistband of her skirt. He slipped the blade under the skirt and moved it around to the side; then, turning one of the cutting edges outward, he pulled hard, slicing as he did so. The waistband parted, then the skirt fell down around her feet, leaving her nothing but her white lace panties.
"Very nice, Teach," he said mockingly. "That's really pretty. But I think what you got inside them is even prettier. And I mean to see it."
"Please," she begged. "I'll take them off."
"You keep your goddamn hands where they are."
He moved the knife down over her skin once more, past the elastic of the panties and down over the smooth, translucent nylon until it reached her thigh. Then he slid the blade up under the leg of her panties and sliced once more. The cloth parted with a soft ripping sound. He moved the knife up until it reached the waistband. He had to reach over with his other hand and hold the cloth in place so that the knife could cut through the elastic. When he'd done that, the panties fell to a point midway down her thighs. He reached down and gave them a yank and they fluttered down to her ankles.
Don smiled at her. It was the smile of a sadist. He moved his free hand over her tits, kneading them lightly at first, then with increasing pressure. As the manipulation of her tit became painful, she tried to pull away, sliding along the wall, but he gave her a threatening look and placed his knife against her face again, pushing the point against her cheek.
"One more move, Teach," he said, "and you won't have such a pretty face no more. You dig, Teach?" When she didn't answer, he pressed the knife harder for an instant. "I asked if you dig."
"Ye-es," she stuttered.
Suddenly his hand dropped from her tit. She was afraid to move her head, but she rolled her eyes downward and managed to see his hand drop to his fly. He yanked his zipper down, then reached in and fished out a prick that looked rock hard. It sprang out as quickly as the blade had sprung from the handle of his knife. He held it for a moment, looking into her eyes and grinning madly; then he moved right up against her.
Ellen felt humiliated and degraded as never before as Don moved in with his cock in his hand and centered it between her cuntlips. Then he slipped it into her, jamming it in with such force that she . knew it was a substitute for the blade of his his knife. He was stabbing her even as he raped her.
He finally pulled the point of the knife away from her cheek. But before she could begin to feel any relief from the fear, he brought the edge of the blade against her throat.
He began to fuck her, moving his hips in a slow, grinding motion that dragged his prick through her cunt with the maximum friction. She was beyond feeling any pleasure at that point. She felt only fear and the desire that he enjoy what he was doing enough so that he would forget to kill her, or torture her, or disfigure her.
She found that she could move her hips with his, that she could give him some cooperation in the fucking without moving her head around and increasing the possibility of being cut by the knife and she did so, trying to give him as good a time as possible. Her cunt gyrated in time with his cock and he began to grunt with pleasure. That was a little scary, because she knew that if he got too turned on he might slit her throat without meaning to. But it was obvious that he meant to go all the way to an orgasm and so she decided she might as well make him come as soon as possible.
She placed her hands on his hips tentatively. He had ordered her not to move them, but that had been when he had been enjoying himself by cutting away her clothing. This might not annoy him.
It didn't. He just pressed into her more firmly, pushing her ass flat against the wall behind her and continued to fuck her with all his concentration. She guided him, helped him, pulling his hips toward her and shoving them back in time with her own fucking motions. She was doing her best to give this crude coupling some finesse and some class, though she wasn't enjoying anything and didn't expect to. Not while that knife edge was pressed against her jugular.
It seemed he could read her mind, though it was probably only that he had reached a point in his own excitement where he no longer trusted his coordination. At the moment he turned the blade so that the flat side was against her throat. He gripped her shoulder with his other hand. He leaned his head forward, placing his lips next to her ear and hissed, "I can turn it around again real fast, cunt." He proved his point by turning the edge of the blade against her throat. "So don't try nothin'," he advised, turning it flat again.
Ellen couldn't imagine what it was she was supposed to try, precariously balanced on her tiptoes, with her body depending on his to hold her up and her legs spraddled out and with his prick already lodged in her cunt. But she accepted his warning without answer.
"Uh! Uh! Uh!" he growled as his ass clenched again and again, driving that awesomely stiff prick into her cunt and pulling it back again.
And now, despite her fear, or perhaps as an answer to it, her body began to respond to his fucking without any need of thought and planning on her part. Her pussy began to gush with juices now and her hips seemed to take on their own motor action, pressing and pulling, driving themselves on the current of raw pleasure.
"Ooohhhh," she moaned softly, her voice giving some vent to the tingling joy of her flesh. She was caught up in it now and her hands pulled and pushed in perfect time to his own action.
He grunted in her ear and his own hands clamped on her naked shoulders so hard it was painful, but she hardly noticed the pain because of the joy that permeated her body now.
She hit a climax, a small one that just made her tingle and shiver all over and her mouth opened to suck in air. She was having trouble getting enough air into her lungs at that point.
As her mouth opened, he pulled his head back a bit and kissed her deeply and wetly, pulling her chest against his with his hands while his cock slid through her cunt with the same ruthless force as before.
Then he was grunting and growling, his voice tight and high pitched, almost as though he were screaming in pain. His cum shot into her cunt like a river and Ellen answered his grunts with screams and cries of her own. Her body stiffened and shook with the passing waves of pleasure, each stronger than the previous, until she hit the massive orgasm that nearly broke her in two with its force.
"Shit! SHIT! CHRIST!" Don roared in her ear and his hands dug into her shoulders so hard she nearly fainted from the pain, but it was all right, because the pleasure was even stronger. It carried her like a wave under a surfer, cresting, then letting her down slowly, gently, as the already softening cock continued to stimulate her cuntal walls with each thump of his body against her own.
When it was over he drew out of her, stepped back and stood looking at her for a long time before he did anything. His face was a mask, hiding his feelings from her gaze and she couldn't tell what he would do, or what he thought. But she had the feeling that he felt shame, which was odd for a man like him and contrition, which was even stranger.
"You made me do that, Teach," he said in a low, angry growl. He reached down and stuffed his prick into his pants and buttoned them up. "If you'd said yes to me, if you'd even been nice to me, maybe I wouldn't have had to do that."
"It's all right, Don," Ellen said wearily. "It really doesn't matter."
"You fuckin' whore," he breathed and she realized that she had said the wrong thing. That his raping her didn't even matter was probably the ultimate insult and she hadn't even thought before she had spoken.
He came at her suddenly, jamming her against the wall and the knife was against her throat once again, the point biting into her skin with a bee-sting of pain. She looked into his eyes and knew that the decision was being made, not exactly by him, but in the dim recesses of his ape brain, that in a moment she would either be dead or safe. Her heart was thumping wildly. In a moment...
He made an animal scream that startled her and turned away. He ran to the door, stopped there and looked at her across the room. Then, in a childish voice, he cried, "You're gonna be sorry for this. You'll see. I'm not through with you, you fuckin' tramp!"
He opened the door and ran out into the hall, not bothering to close it behind him.
Ellen stood against the wall for a long while, thinking that she should go over and close the door before someone happened by and glanced in to see her standing there, naked, her torn clothing lying all about her, cum leaking from her cunt and running down her leg.
Finally, she went to the door and closed it. She sat on the couch and lit a cigarette with hands that didn't shake at all. She was amazed at her own lack of nerves now that the crisis was past. But then, she thought, it really wasn't past. He had threatened her and she had learned enough about Don Jethro in the past weeks to know that when he threatened he carried through. She didn't know what he had in mind for her, if anything. What he did would probably not be planned in advance at all, but would be done with the spontaneous, instinctive rage of a jungle animal. The thing that was surprising was that she had reached a point at which she couldn't really care about it. She was mildly curious to see what he would do to punish her. But with the loss of Leo, she couldn't really care what happened to her any more.
She couldn't even cry...
CHAPTER NINE
The next day Don was absent. Not only from Ellen's class, but from school.
During the snack period she started toward the faculty lounge. As usual, the halls were deserted. She had started late, after locking up the room.
She was going by the supply room when someone stepped from a side hall and grasped her arm. She gasped in surprise and sudden fear, but when she saw who it was, there was no surprise. And the fear had been automatic, an animal reflex. She looked at Don calmly. He had that knife again, held in close to his body, using both of their bodies to hide it from other eyes, should someone happen by.
"The supply room," he said in a low voice. "Unless you want to bleed to death right here."
She considered refusing him, but then shrugged and took her keys from her purse. She selected the right one, opened the supply room and was pushed in with a brutal shove.
She stumbled against the shelves, hitting her shin on the edge of one and balancing herself with her hands. The door slammed and the room was suddenly pitch black.
She heard him move and wondered if he was going to come up and grab her and perhaps kill her, in the darkness. There was a snap and suddenly the light was on. It was only a sixty-watt bulb and her eyes hadn't adjusted to the darkeness yet, so she didn't blink. She saw him standing there, the knife in his hand.
"You change your mind about us, Teach?" he asked.
He was so stupid, she thought with a mixture of pity and contempt. And even a touch of compassion. Stupid to think that anything more than a pure animal act could exist between them and even more stupid to make such a demand now. If it meant anything to her, if her life still mattered, she could con him along now, tell him that she had decided she could love him, that she was afraid to refuse him and had thought it over and decided to try a life with him. With his monkey mind it would be easy to fool him. But she wasn't going to do that now. Because it just didn't matter anymore.
"There's no need for any thought about us," she told him in a calm, dead voice. "So do whatever it is you've decided to do."
He looked unnerved by her lack of fear. This was obviously not the reaction he had expected. Her fear of him the previous night had been a purely animal thing and he had used all that up. Whether he killed her or not didn't matter now.
"You tryin' to make me think you don't care?" he demanded. She just looked at him coldly.
He walked up to her and drove his fist into her belly, in the same spot as the night before. The pain was excruciating and she doubled over, dropping her bag and spilling its contents over the floor.
"You want more of what you had last night, cunt?" Don demanded. His voice sounded hardly human. He was higher than a flag on some drug and the viciousness was bubbling out of him. He slapped her and she couldn't even raise a hand to defend her face from the blow, because she was still bent over with pain and lack of air.
Then, as he flew into an unreasoning rage, he slapped her again and again. Most of the blows didn't even hurt much, because they rained on her without accuracy, striking her shoulders and the top of her head as much as her face. She fell back against the wall, still not able to stand quite upright as he struck her again and again and again. She thought he would never stop.
Suddenly he grabbed her, pulled her away from the wall, then slammed her against it again, pulling her upright. He shoved a booted foot between her feet, hooked one foot and pulled it forward, throwing her off balance and nearly making her vomit as she fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.
"You think I won't? You think I won't kill you, goddamnit! You got the fuckin' idea I'm afraid to kill you or somethin'? I've killed people before, in case you're wonderin'."
She only looked up at him, her face slightly contorted by the way he had her head twisted back. His threats didn't scare her, not because she doubted for an instant that he would carry them out, but because she had run out of fear and no longer cared about her own life. Then he had that knife in his hand. He brought it up against her face.
"How about if I don't kill you?" he asked with a stupid animal cunning. "How about if I just cut your face up a little? Say a couple nice, deep scars? Maybe one right across an eye, so you'll only have one eye left to see when you look in the mirror and see how fuckin' ugly you are!"
Ellen's body shuddered at the thought of what he was threatening to do to her. She could've faced death, but a residual grain of feminine vanity struck fear in her at the thought of being disfigured, made into a horrible thing, an abomination to look upon. She shrugged.
"All right," she whispered and took his cock into her hands.
He glared down at her defiantly, daring her to renege on the deal. Ellen blew a puff of warm air on his cock, bringing it to a greater rigidity, then began to lick it listlessly. But there was nothing listless about Don's response to the touch of her wet tongue. He began to tremble with excitement the instant she started. She wondered how long it would take to make him come this way. She intended to get it over with as quickly as possible. She had to get back to her classroom and she wanted to be rid of him anyway. Of course, he might decide to do more to her. He might even kill her yet, she thought with a mild interest. Somehow, other than the thought of being cut in the face and blinded in one eye, nothing seemed capable of bringing her any feeling of horror.
She did it all automatically, her nerves and muscles working from the memory of a thousand previous blowjobs. She licked the cock with long, slow motions of her tongue, warming it with her spit; then she licked the shaft as well, giving him all her expertise without the gusto and relish she usually brought to this job.
He didn't seem to notice that at all. The sensations in his cock were the same as though she were giving her all. He grunted and stiffened, moving his body in weird gyrations as the pleasure mounted in his prick, then overflowed, running up into his body and wringing his thick muscles like rags.
Ellen took the head of his cock into her mouth and began to suck. She knew, from experience and without thinking about it, that it was time to move on to the next phase of the act. Her tongue made its little circular movements over the tip of his cock while her lips worked their magic farther back.
Don's breathing was heavy and measured, ragged but fairly steady as she worked on his cock, bringing it to a greater and greater stiffness with each swipe of her tongue and each gentle, knowing caress of her lips.
Her hopes of bringing him to his orgasm with her mouth were dashed when he apparently caught hold of his senses and pushed her back. She suspected what he wanted, but she continued kneeling until he grasped her hair and pulled up so hard it hurt enough to make her cry out. Then she lifted herself to her feet and stood while he yanked up her skirt. He moved in close, right up against her and thrust his hips forward. His cock was stiff as iron. Ellen felt it thrust between her legs as he moved in. Then he reached down, took it in his hands and centered it between her cuntlips. He fed it into her enough to be secure, then thrust hard with his hips, driving the hard cock deep into her cunt in one brutal push.
She let out a gasp as the cock slid up into her, huge and thick, filling her cunt with its massive form. He didn't wait for anything, but, as always, began to fuck her right away, moving his hips in quick, hard thrusts that drove into her deeply. The sensations ran through her and she couldn't help responding to some extent.
Her hands grasped his shoulders for balance, because she was on her toes now, lifted by the thrust of his cock, her legs spread out to make room for him. As he drove in and out she gasped again and again, her fingers digging into his shoulders until her fingertips grew numb. Her head tossed back and rapped against the wall behind her. She was wild with the pleasure of fucking, caught up in it despite herself. Her body still craved the joys of sex, no matter the state of her mind and her hips were working in their own educated way, matching Don's rhythm, gyrating, thrusting and pulling and making the most of the wild friction of his cock sliding through her cunt.
The pleasure peaked again and again, driving itself higher each time, then sliding back to rise again. Her hands slipped from his shoulders and her arms went about his neck to hold onto him tightly, pulling his face next to hers.
"Uuuaaaahhhh!" she cried out in a piercing voice, her mind caught in a fog of intense joy.
He grunted in counterpoint to her shrieks; then his cock spat his cum into her cunt, as he clutched at her tightly, holding her body hard against his own. He jammed his cock deeply into her and held still as the cum shot out of him and into her, driving deep into her womb.
The feel of the hot cum shooting into her again and again in huge globs drove Ellen over the edge. She felt wild with pleasure, her body rigid with it, her hips driving back and forth as she tried to resume the fucking for one last moment.
When it was over he pulled out of her, stuffed his cock back into his pants and looked at her with a dull expression that gradually gave way to a more meaningful scowl.
She knew what was bugging him this time, of course. He had managed to make her feel pleasure, but even he could tell from her face that the thing he had just done to her hadn't been anything important so far as she was concerned. He had tried to awaken something in her besides the animal joy he had already succeeded in making her feel several times. He had tried to force her to feel some significant emotional connection with him, or at least revulsion at the way he had brutally raped her. But he had failed to do either. Ellen brushed her skirt down idly, smoothing it and looked at him as though he had just stopped her in the hall to ask about his schoolwork.
With a roar of rage, he struck her again, driving his fist into her belly and doubling her over and then, screaming something about making her sorry, he turned and ran from the supply room. The door slammed behind him.
She stood there for a moment, then realized dully that she had better be getting back to her class. She hadn't heard the bell, but it must've rung, because she saw by her watch that the period had begun five minutes before.
She pulled off her torn pantyhose and stepped back into her shoes, picked up the contents of her bag, then did something with her hair, using the mirror in her compact. She left the supply room, not bothering to turn off the overhead light.
Her students were gathered in front of the door, milling about and tossing wild conjectures about the reason for her tardiness to one another. Ellen felt a wry amusement as they shut up when they saw her. She took out her keys, unlocked the door and led them all inside.
"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," she said when they were all in their seats. "I wasn't feeling well and had to take some medication."
She was ten minutes into the class when the P.A. system clicked on and hummed and everyone looked up expectantly. Winnie, the woman in the office, read off the announcement in the stilted monotone of one who is unaccustomed to speaking in public.
"Your attention, please." There was a pause and the sound of Winnie taking a deep breath before continuing. "Classes are dismissed for the day. All students are requested to leave the grounds at once. The buses will arrive at the north gate in ten minutes for those who must be bussed home." Another pause, another breath of air and the sound of lips parting close to the microphone. "Will all teachers dismiss their classes and report to the faculty lounge at once, please? Thank you."
There was an excited hubbub throughout the class and Ellen tapped the lecturn with her ballpoint pen. "Please try to file out quietly and keep the noise down while you're in the hall," she said. "Class dismissed."
She waited until the room was empty, then took her purse and roll book, locked up and headed for the faculty lounge. She saw other teachers entering as she approached and the sight of them, for some reason, made things fall into place for the first time. She remembered Don's parting threat as he ran out of the supply room and she wondered if that had anything to do with the sudden turmoil in the school.
She went inside the faculty lounge, saw the other teachers crowded in, then noticed two men she had never seen before. One of them was dressed in a business suit and the other in the uniform of a police officer. She turned to Ed Byrnes, the physical education teacher. When she spoke, her voice was tight with sudden apprehension.
"Ed, what's happened?" she demanded.
He looked at her with a surprised expression, as though he had thought everyone knew about it by this time. Then, though he tried to look grim and sympathetic, his face took on the unmistakable excitement of someone who is about to reveal a very juicy tidbit.
"It's Leo Crandall. Don Jethro went crazy on drugs and stabbed him right in his classroom."
They told her later that she had screamed. All she would ever remember was the darkness closing in from the edges of her vision and the sudden jar as her body hit the floor...
CHAPTER TEN
For the first few days, it was doubted that Leo would pull through, but somehow he did.
At the end of the week, on Friday afternoon, he was allowed to have visitors and Ellen drove over to the hospital to see him. She was as nervous as a cat, because she wasn't sure of how well he would receive her. Their breakup had never been rescinded and so she really wasn't his girlfriend or anything else to him except a girl he had asked to marry him and who had refused.
She stopped off on the way and bought him a couple of books and had them gift wrapped. It took her several minutes to find Room 302. It was a three-bed room, but he was alone at the moment and she was thankful for this. She walked in keeping a tremulous smile on her face.
He turned at the sound of her footsteps and she had the feeling that he knew who she was before he saw her. He grinned so widely that it made her heart jump. She was reminded for the hundredth time in the past week just how much she loved him.
"Hi, Leo," she said softly, sitting on a chair next to the bed.
"Hi, love," he said, smiling back. "Why don't you give me a kiss before you sit down there?"
She rose and bent over the bed to kiss him. The kiss turned out to be more than she had intended, because he made it that way.
"Good," he said. "Now, bring that chair closer, so we can hold hands like a couple of dumb teenagers."
Ellen slid the chair over against the bed and sat down again, gratefully taking his hand in hers.
"Ellen," he said, "I've had a chance to do some thinking since the other day. It wasn't as serious as they thought and I suffered more from loss of blood than anything else. That's what almost killed me.
The mention of his near-death made her tighten up and he felt the squeeze of her hand. He looked into her eyes and smiled his reassurance. "But I'm okay now. They're going to let me leave tomorrow, if I can find someone to take care of me."
"I'll take care of you," she said.
"You sure? What about what people will think?"
"I could care less what people think. I'll take care of you."
"I was hoping you'd feel that way. That's what I've been thinking about, honey. You and me. And I've decided that whatever your reasons are for not wanting to marry me, I'll accept them. I want as much of you as I can have. I've discovered that human life is as fragile as it is precious, Ellen. And I don't want to miss anything I don't have to. What we have is good, no matter how much or how little there is of it."
"Thank you, Leo," she said simply, because that was all she could think of to say. "Thank you, darling." Then she noticed the books in her lap and gave them to him. "I bought this for you. It's books. I thought you'd be in the hospital a lot longer."
"That's all right. I can read them while I'm waiting for you to come home from work."
"Yes, you can," she said and laughed from sheer giddy happiness.
"I haven't heard the news since I've been here," he said. "Did they catch that poor, crazy kid?"
"Don? Well, in a way. He's dead. He tried to crash a barrier the police had set up. He was in a stolen car."
"You know, it's funny. I don't feel any rancor toward him at all. Whatever it was that drove him to pick me as his target really did me a lot of good. It taught me what's important. I still feel as I always did about you, honey. I still want to marry you. But I'll take it as it comes from now on. And if we can't have it all, I'll settle for what we can have."
"All right, darling," she said, the tears running down her cheeks unnoticed. "All right. We'll take it as it comes. I love you, Leo. I love you very much."
"I just happened to think of a great way for you to prove you love me," Leo said. "If you'll just- "
"Hold it, darling," Ellen said, wiping away her tears of joy. "You don't have to ask me again. The answer's yes-I will marry you-the minute you get out of this hospital."
Leo's face took on a glow of happiness and he squeezed Ellen's hand. "Well, believe it or not, that's not what I was going to ask you to do," he said, smiling widely, "but since you brought up the subject, I'd be more than happy to oblige you and make an honest woman out of you."
Ellen leaned over him and kissed him warmly, then whispered in his ear, "If marriage wasn't what you were referring to, just what was it you had on your dirty little mind?"
"I'll give you one guess," he said, grinning.
With that, Ellen reached beneath the sheet and fumbled for Leo's cock which, to her surprise, was already rock hard and throbbing.
"Are you sure you're not too tired and weak, darling?" she asked, squeezing his cock in her cool hand.
"I'm neither tired nor weak," he said, then gasped as Ellen gave his hard cock several quick jerks with her hand.
"Well," she said, grinning lewdly, "If you're that strong... "
She pushed back the sheet, leaned over his upthrust cock and slowly lowered her head, enclosing his throbbing cockhead in the warmth of her mouth...
