"Playin' with her pussy, dummy! Ohmigod! Will ya watch 'er fingers sneakin' in!"
"Bullshit."
The oldest of the three truckers sprawled beside the trailer rig rose slowly onto one elbow, sure his two buddies were up to another of the worn-out jokes of the highway. His eyes grew wide in disbelief at the sight.
The stack job was very nearly nude. Outspread in a dazzling display of girl wealth, the total lure of female was lying there on the grass, not thirty yards away. Dark hair tumbled sexily under her head, ripe breasts surged hard-nippled against a barely restraining top, and her lower body was the final blow to male self-control. Wild hips and a wide expanse of smoothly tanned flesh between, she was exposed right to the beginning of the prominent rise of her pubic mound. Her hand lay across the mons and exquisite fingers rested where her cunt cleft must be, just beneath the tiny white triangle of her bikini panties.
"Think she's doin' it, Ed?" The youngest of the watching trio was in violent erection, his hard-on forcing his slacks into a grotesque tenting.
"I know you want to, bubba!" snorted the trucker beside him. "Why don't you take that pole of yours over and ask 'er if she wouldn't rather have the real thing."
"Ain't never seen a woman play with herself. Like right out in the open, even." He looked around at the deserted rest stop. "Man, I don't believe it! She must be really horny."
"Ten to one she's ripe for three truck men. Gu show 'er your wares, Sonny."
* * *
Maureen stirred restlessly on the grass. She had seen the three parked semis when she pulled the Marquis into the rest stop and deliberately had chosen to sunbathe near them. Truck guys were safe to be around. After all, her Derek was temporarily one of them and he was pounding down I-75 this very moment. He must be less than an hour from their planned rendezvous here. Time to tan awhile, and so what if two of those three were ogling when she stepped out of her wraparound and stretched in the sun?
She had dozed off sleepily, spent from her play with Derek the night before. Her near-constant daydream teased her drugged thoughts, of her husband of less than a month, hard and eager and wanting in. It was the same dream that plagued her all day long as they drove their separate vehicles down the highway.
This time it seemed so real! Her fingers found the hypersensitized center of her want, even as she drifted on in sleep. "Do it to me!" Her rich lips, pouting in sleepy desire, formed the plea again as the trucker walked uncertainly toward her. "Give it to me hard!"
A delighted Sonny heard what he took as confirmation of the older trucker's promise. This beautiful sizzling witch was horny and she was begging for it. With a last nervous glance at the empty parking area, Sonny flipped open his zipper and brazenly presented a naked cock. As he went to his knees, he caught sight of the halter bow, nearly hidden under the shimmer of dark hair, and he skillfully released the bow. Trembling fingers drew the white bikini halter away from her front. Stunned by the sunburst wonder of tempestuous breasts, he simply stared for a long moment.
He wondered suddenly if her sleeping was really pretense.
"Wake up, doll," he whispered, daring to try to make her open her eyes. His fingers found the bow at her hips and in seconds her panties lay at her side. Her love mound pulsed visibly, and to Sonny's delight the hand he had carefully shifted to her side crept back to lie across the pubes.
"Give it to her!" came the hoarse voice of the oldest of his buddies.
He gave a frightened look around. Any second a tourist or even Smokey could come tooling over the rise. He waved a semicircle with a clenched fist and pointed at one of the rigs. Message received. The older man ducked into the cab of his semi and in seconds had the huge truck rolled into position, making a blockade to visibility from the highway. "No guts!" graveled the crew-cut senior of the trucker trio, swinging down from his cab and advancing across the grass. "Seen the day when a dame beggin' for it in the open like this got it in the open."
"Look at 'err" A bolder Sonny was fondling his bared erection as he knelt at Maureen's side. "She's not like the chicks around the gas stops. This one's got class."
"Wearin' a wedding ring, too," chuckled the third of the group. "An' drivin' that new Merc. She's classy ass, all right. Ten-to-one she's got no man and the ring is just show. C'mon, Sonny, dip it! You got about two secs 'fore I take first dibs."
The younger knew his future as a roadman was on the line. He had been driving for Manchester Movers Line with the other two for less than a year. All the truckers with Manchester were hot cocksmen, and a guy made it with Manchester in the long pull on the basis of her prick performance, more than his skill with a rig. Any bastard can drive a truck. It took an artist to grab the passing chances for quick cunt. This was Sonny's first big chance with witnesses.
"I'll take my own goddamn dibs." He stood full height and dragged his tee-shirt, then his grimy denims from his powerful body. Naked, he stood straddling the curvaceous unknown, staring at the way her finger tip was toying to-and-fro along the pussy cleft. He dropped into the valley of her legs, caressing the smooth turn of the thighs, now openly interested in her being wide awake to see and feel what she was about to take. "Cut the make-believe, doll," he hissed in her ear, reaching to angle his cock to the invasion. "Gonna take a trip to heaven."
Distant blurred sounds slipped into Maureen's summery dream. She was asleep... no, not quite... she was feeling. It was more than a dream. First she heard the sound of voices and what they were saying was harsh and demanding. Her Derek was never demanding when they were about to make it. And then there was the knobby pressure against her pussy flesh... urgent and beautifully savage. Her Derek was never savage, and how many times this first month of their marriage she wished he would be, when they copulated. The foggy mists of sleep were suddenly, totally dynamited away with the next sensation. A stretching her vagina wildly... hurling her great steely pole was ramrodding... stretching her vagina wildly :... hurling her into instant orgasm, even as she knew the truth...
She was climaxing to the wonders of stranger cock!
This was not her husband!
She was seethingly wide awake in cock-crazed frenzy, writhing in sex-driven want against her will.
It all happened in one fractured second. The dream... the voice... the feeling of that monumental shaft of hot man... and the startled wide-eyed staring at the naked man hovered above her and thrusting into her.
"Ayeeehhh ooh... ohbh... null... NO!!" Her climax squeal of protest stormed from her lips, even as her pelvic muscles thrust upward to claim more and still more against her will. It was so damned wonderful, this crazy stud length filling her passion pit and foreing the cunt convulsions to clasp and grip and rip the semen from her uninvited playmate. "Guh... godddhhh! Puleeese... oohhh, damn! DAMN YOU!" The hot, insistent bolts of his semen roared deep into the most intimate part of her possessed body. Even as she shuddered in surrendered joy, the lightning bolts of realism smashed home. She, Mrs. Derek Demours; the property of her bridegroom for little more than three weeks, was committing adultery! Frantic raw terror grabbed her. Not at the male taking her in coitus, but in horror that Derek might arrive at any second.
"Duh ... . don't!" she struggled to scream the words. "I... can't... can't fuck you!" Saucer wide eyes, pupils dilated with unwanted/wanted ecstasy, looked into Sonny's face.
"Baby, you may think you can't... but you sure doin' it!" Sonny's happy boyish grin was inches away, and Maureen's fingers flashed in frenzy, scraping skin from a high cheek bone.
"Ayyy... shit!" bellowed the wounded Sonny, grabbing for her wrists and trapping her arms far-flung to either side. "Bitch has spirit!" Maureen heard a roar of appreciation and for the first time saw her audience. The crew-cut fortyish ringleader and the ugly-as-sin muscled wonder at his side. Truth stormed as she gaped at their rampant erections. Everyone was planning to sample her and oh... damn! The outrageously over-grown penis stabbing deep and still deeper into her body was fresh and hard, in spite of having just ejaculated.
She stared past the face and the bloody streak she had scratched on it and tried to focus on the treetop beyond. Somehow she had to grab control... Run, Maureen, run! First she had to grab control of herself. For all the wrongness, for all she hated what was happening, she loved that huge cock that crammed her cunt. He had slipped it into her while she slept. It couldn't count as adultery. She was still being faithful to Derek, even as she... as she... "Oh... ohhhh!"
Every luscious contour was on straining display as she fought her orgasm and at the same time felt it take over. Her emboldened playmate pistoned deeply into her butter-soft flesh, feeling the quicksand clutching of tight eager quim muscles. Then, as his own orgasm shot for freedom up the long cock barrel, gorgeous thighs scissored tightly around his hips to force him totally in. She was his. His ejaculation flew crazily into her.
At the first hot spurts of his cum, Maureen was ready. It would be her only chance, she knew. From the expressions on the two crouching close as they saw their buddy start to come, she knew gang-bang was only the beginning of what they had in mind.
Feeling the grip of her wrists lighten as his orgasm claimed Sonny's self-control, Maureen writhed in an unexpected frenzy of arms and legs. "Do... do... DOI" she squealed, arching savagely against her momentarily climax-paralyzed playmate.
He was jolted off-center for just the split second Maureen needed. With a strength way beyond her hundred and ten pounds, she launched him from her front and rolled frantically away from the other two. It was the one weak instant for all three males, one climaxing and the other two totally engrossed in their own want. Before Maureen's intention grabbed them, she was halfway to the cement blockhouse comfort station, her lithe, superbly toned body a symphony of taut muscles, flashing legs and thrusting breasts. Dark, lovely hair tossed wildly as she reached the entry to the women's section, dashed through the door and flung herself into a cubicle to hide.
A roar from outside slammed the truth home. The three would come through that door and corner her if she stayed. Across the far side of the room was a partially opened window and she raced for it, flicking the catch of the rest room door as she passed. The woods just beyond the window were a silent sanctuary and she dove for a thick stand of pines just beyond the shrub. Panting, arms crossed over her middle, she clutched herself to force air to her lungs. She heard the shout from the women's room. "Hey, miss! We know you're out there. C'mon back. We're only funnin'!"
She shrank against the cool flat granite rock and tried to make sense of the madness. They weren't rapists. They really were nice guys... horny, wild, and crude, but they didn't mean to hurt her. But now when they caught her, if they did, she really would be in for it. Her attempt to get .away had been very convincing. It had even almost convinced her own vagina. Feverish little pinpricks of erotic excitement, in spite of herself, traveled her spine. Her thoughts focused on Derek to try to make these treacherous good feelings turn to bad vibrations.
Her man was out there, driving down the highway to this spot, this instant. It had started as a lark, their two-vehicle cavalcade to bring home the wedding presents and the huge bunch of furniture her relatives had given them. Derek in the two-and-a-half-ton Rent-a-truck could only travel at fifty miles an hour. He had asked her to go ahead and tool along faster in the Marquis and play him a little game as she went. Somewhere every couple of hundred miles she was to pick a rest area for loving. Then she was to rest herself in some prominent location so that as he came along he'd see her. He'd given her a gigantic bright yellow bath towel to lie on, just to be sure he wouldn't miss her.
It was her own exhibitionism that had gotten her into this, she scolded herself silently, as she stole away from the rock and began to backtrail through the woods. She looked down at the light perspiration glistening on her front. It was liking to show off her sleek body that had made these three nice guys behind her think she was some common tramp. No wonder. If she could only make it back to the edge of the trees and the parking area just beyond, she would have no trouble getting to the car and away.
Down the path that zigzagged in the direction of the lot, the three truckers waited behind a cluster of trees, listening to the crunch of the gravel as Maureen approached. Crew-cut gave a long, low whistle and stepped from the cover of the pines, cigarette dangled at his lip, cock spearing at his groin. "Hey, what have we here? A naked lady!"
For seconds not a sound could get past the tight bind in Maureen's throat. She heard a footstep behind her and spun free from the hands of the second man, looking desperately down a tiny path. It was the only chance and she dashed wildly for the one last way of escape. A root snagged her ankle and spilled her face down and helpless across soft pine needles.
Crew-cut was all confident male animal as he moved down the tiny dead-end trail, closing the distance between himself and this girl. He was sure she was putting all of them to a lot of work for what she wanted as much as they. She lay on her tummy, watching his approach, and, by her tenseness as he stood over her, he knew she was frightened.
"Not going to hurt you, little lady," he soothed, fingering his bared phallus and straddling across the sleek curve of her tail. She squirmed under him and he felt the warm tautness of her buttock cheeks grinding against his loaded testicles. "Just going to give you what that hot little chassis is abeggin' for."
There was virtually no resistance in Maureen when Crew-cut rolled her to her back and, shifting atop her thighs, stared down at the glories of her jutting boobs. He reached almost casually to pluck a lone pine needle from the cleft of her breasts.
"What are you going to do?" Her voice was whisper-small He roared happily at her affected innocence. Full breasts surging in hard-nippled pride said she knew what he was going to do and wanted it. He looked down at her perfectly tapered thighs curving out of sight where he straddled across them, her pressed-together legs forcing her already prominent mound into bold display.
"Lookee there, Sonny! Always can tell . a woman's hot. and ready by the way her love mound swells. Tells you her clitty is wild inside." He fingered almost tenderly along the sensitivity of her cleft. "This little lady has a man in her every day or else she is one hurtin' doll. I bet you that."
"I HAVE a man!" Tears sparkled at the corners of Maureen's eyes. "And, yes, I need him every day... but he's all I need."
"Ohhh... well, hey now! Listen to Miss Fidelity of Rest Stop Seventy-Two." He ground the . crown of his cock against the unresisting pussy flesh. "Don't tell me Sonny didn't make you come back there just now. What's this all-I-need-ishubby bit?"
Her eyes were suddenly wet. "Please...!" His turbulent glans cap was edging into the threshold of her vagina. "I did come. I will every time, but I... I'm promised. 'I'm just a bride."
"Hall! Hear that, guys? She's givin' us the virgin bit . just married and faithful wife. Hell! Look at these and talk to me about innocence!" His hand clamped firmly across a taut-nippled breast, massaging its firm fullness and bringing an uncontrollable gasp to Maureen's lips. "Look at those nippies stick up!" He leaned to kiss one and swatted the clawlike fingers reaching to do mayhem on his face. "Y'ain't dealin' with Sonny-boy now!" he barked, catching the sides of her face and staring into her eyes. "You're not about to hurt or to get hurt and not about to do anything you don't really want to do!" Their faces were scant inches apart and he glared into the darkest, angriest eyes he ever had seen on any roadside prize. It still didn't seem possible to Crew-cut that this dark-haired beauty wasn't just making it difficult for them to get what she wanted.
"You bastard!" Maureen hissed. "I'll kill you!"
"Tassk-tasskkk! You guys ever heard a virgin bride talk like that?"
"Hell, no, George. Give it to her!"
Maureen stared at the soaring cock and wondered at feeling totally fearless. She knew why. For all his rough talk, the one they called George was not about to harm her. His cock had speared away from her front when she squirmed to its first touch, and he shifted suddenly across her wide hips and clamped his knees tightly to the hour-glass indent of her narrow waist. Now his soaring prick stormed high above her breasts and an inspite-of-herself, fascinated Maureen watched him grab the barrel and slap its stiff length from one nipple to another.
"Do it!" Her voice dripped scorn. "Jerk yourself off over me, pretend-man!"
He seized his inflamed prick and, brandishing it like a club before her face, he watched her expression as he jammed the phallus deep into the cleavage of her boobs.
"Yessss! More pretend! Take me that way, big man. That how you make girls happy?"
The truth was he was making her madly happy. Her hypersensitive breasts always went wild to friction, and cock friction was a new experience to the tender boobies. "Titty tease and titty fuck... is that it?" The taunt spilled breathlessly from her lips.
"Titty fuck, is it?" snorted George, aiming his prick at her chin and straddling higher across her midriff to thrust the brimming cock directly at her parted lips. "Suck it, sweetheart!"
"Wait!" His inflamed cock leaped from her lips as she spat the command. "You could choke a girl to death that way! Come closer!"
A surprised Crew-cut, sure she was about to find an excuse to avoid oral sex, obeyed. Maureen felt his knees nudge snugly into her armpits and she stared up the tautly muscled front of this man old enough to be her father. The change in her came just that quickly. One split-second taste of a man's love organ and she was gone.
It had been that way before she fell in love with Derek. She had refrained from sex all the way till she met the man she one day would want to marry. True, she had known a dozen men she could happily marry before Derek and had learned her copulation skills on a dozen wonderful penises: But Maureen was true to her pledge to herself, for she truly had been in love with those twelve.
And the scores of others she had liked very much through the twenty-six years before Derek had never been allowed to take her all the way. If she liked a date, their play never went beyond hand play, nipple tease, toying with erogenous zones and mutual masturbation on very heavy crates. She really enjoyed masturbating a man, feeling the washboard ripples of erectile tissue along his cock barrel, tantalizing the million sensory nerves around the wide corona ledge of his glans and smoothing the little semen droplets that peeked too early from the eyelet all over the satiny crown.
It was awesome to her to squeeze-the root of a man's cock and watch the formidable way the crown would inflate and darken. Most especially intriguing to her about jerking a man off was the way he moaned when she pumped him through ejaculation. Everyone had his own climax sound. As different as fingerprints. The sight of leaping, sparkling, masturbated semen was what made her set a new limit for herself with very special dates. She wanted love cum so badly between her legs. Always when she jerked a date off and it was his turn with her, she made him collect the glistening semen wherever it had landed on her and rub it slowly with his fingertips over her mons and along her cunty crack. Maureen always loved her firm full breasts; not just because she saw how they bothered men, but because the boob cleavage was a wonderful place for semen to puddle when a man shot to her pumping fist. Her dates loved to finger into her breasts' cleavage and rub their cum wealth juicily over her globes, torturing her to climax just from the semen massage of her nipples. But it was when they transferred frigged ejaculation drops by fingertip from her chest to her clitty that she was really brought on.
It was very dangerous, she believed. But the danger added to the fun. She never would allow sperm to be rubbed beyond her taut clitoris. An old wives' tale had warned she could get pregnant from any playing around deeper than her ditty trigger. For years, through high school, she had had near full wonderful sex just from male fingers and her own in what she called "clitty-cra-zin'."
Finally, the waste of flying semen was too much. She had been staring open-mouthed at a date as she jerked him into the wildest orgasm she ever had brought off in one of her premarital men. The first warm bolt of his cum was a jet stream of runaway gism straight through her parted lips to the roof of her mouth. The tart animal excitement in the semen itself set her on fire. Before that first night of discovery of oral sex was done, she had sucked her delirious date through five fantastic orgasms and made, his penis a rubbery reed. She had discovered an incredible gift for fellatio. Not only did she madden her men with it, she invariably climaxed herself at the instant her date shot.
She liked it when the men she played with let her fuck herself with their cocks as she took them orally. She thought of it that way. That was the big difference. She was the one to go violent when she was mouth fucking. To Maureen it was beautiful to think of, it as mouth-fucking. His coming made her come and that made it more than just oral sex. When he let her take over, then it was as if their roles were reversed. He was the passive recipient and her wildest kicks came from fucking with her lips, trying to suck that fantastic cock right off his front, munching, siphoning, nibbling and kissing till he shot his love load of semen straight into her throat.
And then came Derek. The others she had fallen in love with had loved her mouth and her pussy lips; they had both been adored as beautiful places to fuck Maureen. But Derek was shy. Derek didn't think oral sex was very nice. He couldn't bring himself to go down on her and he didn't think it right that she should even kiss his erection.
Maureen had learned to love sucking a man as much as fucking him. Derek was a wild lover in the conventional role, even in the almost unconventional ways. He fucked into every crevice he could find, but one. In those long, wonderful nights of early marriage he jabbed it into her ear and her armpits, where Crew-cut now had his knees. He ejaculated into her breast tunnel as he squeezed her boobies together, and he even took her anally. But she couldn't break down Derek's resistance to fellatio, not even when she wakened early and licked him slowly awake, bringing him fully conscious with a total hard-on buried in her mouth.
"Maureen... don't, dearest... it's not clean!"
But a man was clean there, to her, and even Crew-cut, now hovered over her trembling frame, staring down as she fingered his outrageous erection, was a clean man. And this man, she had decided, she was going to have. She was back in premarital date life. Faithful to Derek, but cock-frenzied.
She focused on his leaping erection and, for all his toughness, Crew-cut felt his heart stop. Dead still. Her glance moved slightly and focused on the full testicles underneath. Her exquisite fingers formed a very feminine cupping under the balls, smiling for the first time as their eyes met. Lush lips formed a slight oval and a saucy tongue stabbed quickly, then disappeared. "I am going to kiss it," she murmured.
Crew-cut opened his mouth, then closed it as he watched her angle the fat crown of his desire toward her puckered kiss. Her lips spread slowly over the darkly swollen cap and as she engulfed the tip of the glans, Maureen dragged forward on the phallus to force the foreskin to wrinkle against her lips.
Her victim gawked helplessly at the sight of the ruby, satiny oval munching the outer tip of his cock, and his head swam with the sheer magic. Before she even took him fully, Crew-cut knew he was with an artist at fellatio. And he knew more. This was no roadside tramp. This was a lady. Even in the bitch heat they had managed to fire in her, she still was the lady. Her name was a mystery. Her reason for being here, a mystery. The only thing clear was the fact she plainly and simply loved cock--and didn't think she should, now that she was married.
He watched her nibble the thin foreskin, then tongue beneath it toward the wide coronal ring. Her eyes sparkled feverishly when she pulled the prick crown from her mouth and looked past it up at him, stroking the barrel with a gentle pumping action. "Pre-puce," she whispered, her finger deviling the thin foreskin flap..
"What?"
A suggestion of a giggle slipped from her lips. "I love a man with a foreskin.' Her stiffened tongue probed beneath the prepuce flesh and he could see its movement under the thin skin. He was sure, if she kept deviling the crazed nerve endings with that pointed tongue, he would ejaculate before she even took the cock into her mouth. "Ooohhh... look! There's a love drop already showing."
Her tongue moved very deliberately toward the glistening semen droplet and its torturous slowness in reaching the eyelet made still another and another back up behind the drop on display. A tiny rivulet of restless cum drooled down the grossly contorted glans.
"Old George is about to shoot!" growled one of the two watchers enviously.
"No, he's not!" snapped Maureen. "He's just putting out some lubrication so's I'll moisten this big old cap. You two come close and watch. Maybe I'll even make you moan a little like George. And I know George's type. He can hold off longer than you two put together."
Her tongue stirred the trickle of George's semen lushly to-and-fro across the darkened swollen crown as crew-cut George responded proudly to her praise. An instant later, as she clamped a tight dip vise around George's glans, the other two were crouched close to either side of her head, erections soaring in hot anticipation.
They watched her color mark her cheeks as she began the contractions of fellatio. The tip of George's prick was visible, a blunt knob against the inner wall of a pretty cheek, making a tiny mound. Then, as suddenly, the knob was no longer there but beyond the roof of her mouth.
"My God, guys... she's got me in her throat! Her tongue... oh, man! What a crazy licked" In a euphoria of remembered joys, Maureen milked lazily at the indriven phallus. Her tongue tracked slowly over each ripple of bone-hardness on the back side of the barrel, then guiding it with her finger tips, she expelled the erection almost to the tip and carefully engulfed it again, this time tracing the thick funnel on the under shaft. Heaven for George and more for her, who was, to all intents, fucking herself with captive pick Now, as the two close beside her head gawked jealously, she clasped the exposed part of the phallic shaft and guided the horny length more and more from sight, munching each millimeter of frenzied flesh as it went deeper into her mouth. As she took him, her eyes went wide and still wider in spellbound wonder, glazing and staring fixedly, then suddenly dancing happily as she looked at the two unattended hard-ons.
The foreskin she called "prepuce" tickled deep in her throat, and simultaneously she felt a tremor of forewarning run the length of the shaft. George was not going to hold off much longer, and she spewed the sopping, glistening shaft free of her oral trap, grabbing for the other two as she did.
In bold, commanding lip action she milked them alternately and quickly. They tried to fight the surge of lust, but the relentless siphon of rich lips, pursed and pulling, synchronized with a probing tongue that bedeviled even as she milked, brought the crises churning up in both.
"Ahh ... . yahhh... take it " One, then the other, fired warm cannonades of cum and she took every drop. The semen floods were oozing at the corners of her mouth. The spasms between her hips still were visibly racking her torrid body when she assaulted George's organ again.
There was no doubt that the crew-cut one had a taste and a length that especially maddened Maureen. She led him once more slowly to the previous peak and this time the persistent convulsions of her own ebbing orgasm made it impossible for her to stop. With a little muted cry of need she sucked him to his crest and when he reached it, drove him still farther.
"Guhhh... Godddhhh!" His body quivered and bent like a wind-driven tree trunk as he gave in to the hurricane emotion of his climax. At the height of the blast he saw her own reactions through orgasm-blurred eyes. She was lip-locked to his indriven prick, both hands cupped to her mouth to take no chances of losing him. Her body bent in a deep crescent, beautiful thighs wide-spread as if taking her playmate through her legs, she was driven by violent pelvic tremors. Clearly she was in the grip of uncontrolled climax as her hips writhed and strained to invite the invader still farther. And as the thirsty lips continued to milk the spent cock, she wilted in a soft ball, curling in a fetal position, eyes closed, every muscle limp. She was out of it. "Good Lord, she's beautiful!" The three stared at the incredibly voluptuous girl at their feet. "We don't even know her name."
It was George who bent and scooped her tenderly in his arms, hefting her as though she were no weight at all. "She's Lovelips," he murmured. "I don't care who else or whose else she is. Those lips I do not believe."
They walked silently back the gravel path toward the rest area, pausing near the edge of the tree stand to see who might have arrived since they left. It was still totally deserted. Moments later they had snugged her into the mini bikini again and spread her in precisely the same position as when they first saw her. If she had regained consciousness, she gave no sign.
Sonny saw the CB antenna stub on the center trunk of the white Marquis. "Maybe we'll get to talk to Lovelips on ears," he suggested.
"You kiddin'? Boy, you been with class. This little lady won't have time for no goddamned more truckers, you can bet."
Maureen had heard the conversation from the moment they laid her down on the yellow bath towel. Her long dark lashes fluttered lightly at the last remark and abruptly opened. "Thank you for that," she whispered. "No one has made me feel more like a lady lately than you three."
"Y'ain't mad?" She surveyed George's fortyish-plus face quietly. "Do you like to watch it as well as give it?"
"Uhunnnhh. But watchin's fun."
"Go nap in your cabs till my husband arrives. I really do have one and he's due. I'm going to tell "him about a dream I just had."
Five minutes later the red-striped gray metal U-Haul lumbered slowly up the incline toward the white Marquis. The semi that had served as a vision block to the highway had been pulled down to the far end of the park area, and Derek slipped his U-Haul into the spot that George had just opened.
"Hi, doll! Gosh, I'm sorry I'm so slow. These Kentucky hills after flat Indiana really slow my rig down." Derek flopped onto his stomach and stretched to kiss his bride. "Miss me?"
"Madly." She nodded down toward the cluster of three trailers. "But those nice truckers have been taking care of me."
Derek grinned, glancing down at the three unattended vehicles. "If they were around they'd have been delighted to. Drivers must be sacked out in their cabs."
"So, who do you suppose pooped them?" Maureen propped to an elbow and looked over her husband's shoulder, eyes sparkling mischievously. "I had lots .of time waiting for my slowpoke hubby. We were very naughty."
He grunted in disgust. "Sounds like that dream you've been telling me about has been tooted. You're into truck men now. Guess the honeymoon is over."
"Let's see." She flung an arm over his hip and tugged impatiently till he rolled to his back. "Derek, it isn't! You got hard listening to my make-believe orgy." Her hand fingered his zipper and Derek made no effort to stop her as she dragged his turbulent stud length into view. "Wow... how beautiful! Tell you my new dream?"
"Tell me." Derek arched against the toying fist playing with his thick shaft, not even glancing to see if the truckers were really out of sight or not. He didn't care this time. She was teaching him the uninhibited life.
"Sonafabitch has three inches on any of us," grunted Sonny, watching Maureen slapping the turgid cock to-and-fro across her cheeks. The three had a perfect spot at the men's room window. "She's gonna give us a damned show of how she plays with the goddamned stallion."
"Know what I did in my l'il old dream, Derek?"
"Tell me."
He was making up his mind while half-listening. On three previous stops she had tried to make him do it with her in semi-seclusion like this, but the self-conscious fear that someone would come on them while they made it had taken over his erection at the last minute. They'd done it hurriedly, half-assed style over the seat of his U-Haul, and it had helped hold them till their motel rendezvous that night.
Today was different. He had been horny wild crawling over the hills, seeing some of the things he saw in passenger cars passing him. He was ready to take her in a steeple right in front of the whole world.
"I dreamed I just had to have you and had to have you and you wouldn't come to me, Dare-baby."
"So what'd you do?" He fingered the panty bow and slid his palm across a bared mons veneris that felt warmer than he ever remembered.
"I just lay here beggin' for someone to please help me in my misery." She bent across his hip and wigwaggled his prick under her chin, steering it quickly past her lips, up over the bridge of her nose and banging it happily against her eyes. "I thought of asking those three truckers to come help me. I had very naughty thoughts about them."
"Tell me." Derek squirmed happily, arching to present the total length of his erection for her to study. "Should of told 'em to give you a little temporary service."
"I was tempted to let them refuel me while I waited. You know, let me stick their big old hoses into my bod. Guess where I wanted it?" She grabbed the thick base of the rigid prick and aimed it at her mouth, engulfing cap and two inches before Derek could react.
"Awwwhhh, no way! Told you mouth sex is sick!" He rolled away in a savage twisting action, laughing hilariously but leaving no doubt that her dream story was over.
She was on him, squealing in frustration, her tapered lovely thigh flung across his hip as she tugged his shoulder to drag him to his back again. "No sex is sick!" She spat the words. "But this is what I really waited for!' She was astride his thighs, dragging impatiently at the bow of her halter to denude herself totally for his pleasure. "I wanted my super-stud to take me."
An incredulous trio gawked from the bathroom window as she gave them a maddening show of girl needing her man. Kneeing forward, she poised her superlative body directly over his cock, then bent deeply back after trapping the shaft between the taut muscles of her inner thighs. It was clear she was not going to steer it into her sex center herself. That much he had to do.
"Do me, Derek!" she begged, head flung far back over her shoulders, dark hair tumbling till it nearly reached the grass.
"Christ, she's lookin' right at us!" groaned Sonny, fingering his rampageous erection into bold view as he saw her stare fixed on their voyeuring point.
"Her guy is going to split her in two with that rod o' his," muttered George.
Fully aware of her audience and loving it, Maureen eased down as Derek guided his thunderhead cap into the yielding cleft of her labial gates. The action went suddenly hard and violent as the want for each other grabbed. They were a pair of beautiful bodies locked together on the grass, straining at each other, pumping and then pulsing in the wild paroxysm of simultaneous orgasms. When it was done, they lay quietly in each other's arms, Maureen cradling her cheek against Derek's shoulder and staring beyond him toward where the three had been watching. They were gone and she saw them down the walkway heading for their separate rigs. "I think we had an audience, Dare," she whispered in her husband's ear. "Is that sick sex, too?"
"Heck, it doesn't matter."
At the far end of the rest area there was the low thunder of truck engines roaring to life. "Damned if I care," murmured the happy bridegroom. "Best show they've had in years and we're married, so who looks? You know, that's a stupid kinda life, even in one of these little rigs. You sit up there, above it all, and you stare down at a bunch of happy cats. Some of the actions that go on! I swear lots of people just try to entertain truck drivers who can look down into the car and see the whole bit."
"What have you seen, Darer "Mostly crazy dames. I won't even tell you what I've seen some of 'em do." He flushed uncomfortably. "It's too embarrassing. Hey, get some clothes on. Here comes a car."
"Where do we meet next?"
"Down the road about two hundred miles there's a great truck stop. Fabulous food. You know I'm always gripin' about restaurants on the road. Well, baby, we can use a Truckers Only stop with our little U-Haul and you're going to taste some kinda cooking."
"Where'll I meet you, if it's Truckers Only?" She stood slowly to adjust the snug panties along the sleek curve line of her tail and felt a sadness about leaving Rest Stop Seventy-two. The trio of trucks was already thundering down I-75 ahead of them and the wild episode was finished. And finished, too, was the honeymoon if Derek meant it when he said, "We're married, so who looks?" Like marriage was the end to all excitement.
"You probably can pull in and park somewhere out of the road," she heard her husband say: "The Truckers Only bit is to keep tourists from using the pumps and the restaurant. I'll pull up beside you and you can hop in with me. Hey, I'm amazed at how many guys truck all their lives with their woman right beside them."
"Wish I was," she pouted, combing slowly through her tumbled hair. "Derek, we've got at least eighteen hundred more miles apart. I don't think I can stand all that separation."
He kissed her lightly on the forehead and started for his truck. "I'll try to dream up something wilder for the next stop." He studied her next-to-nothing costume. "And you get into something more modest for dinner at Murphy's Truck Stop or they'll all have you for dinner. Wear your gold wraparound. They tell me that's one hyper-sexed place, loaded with super-horny highway-men."
"And you picked it all for me," she sighed. "At least it's better than another one of those old drive-ins."
"See you." He waved as he swung into the square cab of his little truck. "Last one there's a rotten apple."
She sat quietly behind the wheel of the Marquis, surveying the once again deserted scene of her conquest. Had what she remembered really gone on back there in those woods? Where were those three now who had been so terrible and yet so tender at the same time? Down I-75. She gunned the Marquis out of Rest Area #72, her mood for new adventure quickening with the speeding traffic. Her sex life was about to go deadly dull, if Derek got her to their neat little organized home with his dull philosophy on sex and marrieds. How, she didn't know, but she had to find a way to turn him on to everything about their love life, married or not.
CHAPTER TWO
"Breaker One-Niner, Hey, it's Forty-Niner, Crew-cut Georgie. Do you read me?"
There was a staccato sound in the air over South Kentucky before the CB receiver spat the response. "Read you, Forty-Niner. Got the hammer down and hell bent for Murph's. Lovelips' old man is makin' that their next stop."
"Lovelips' old man is a goddamned jackass. You see him turn her off with her best act?"
"Knock off the profanity, Forty-Niner. Fox Charlie pick that up and they'll turn you off the air. Yeah, I saw the big turnoff to Lovelips, but did you see her ride? I want some o' that."
A sarcastic drawl interrupted from the third member of the Rest Stop #72 boys. "You see the measurements on Lovelips' man? Man, you got competition."
"She didn't act like I had competition from you, Sonny boy. Crew-cut is out." The CB air was silent.
* * *
Maureen saw the three purple-lettered Manchester Movers trucks two rises ahead on I-75. She was at least twenty miles ahead of Derek and it was time to play. And play was all it was now. They had taken her for the full sex trip and there was nothing to change that. She was innocent of any infidelity to her Derek. In fact, the more she thought of it, driving down a lonesome road without her man, it was pretty nearly impossible for a wife to be unfaithful to her husband. Maureen followed her train of thought and it made sense...
The male of the species wears the love organ. It is a great projectile attached to his front. It is he who must take his plaything and guide it into a teeny-tiny hole called a vagina. Only the one who actually handled the erection, placed it into the little cleft and shoved, could be responsible.
Come on now, Maureen! Her conscience was a distant mocking laugh, scorning her rationalization. What. about woman's seduction? Who- gets the phallus to stand up on end? Who drives the man to need it?
"That's not my fault!" she stormed, shaking her head angrily, then noticing the handsome face in the mirror of the truck she was following looking back at her. "So I'm pretty. just being around seems to get most of them hot. Like him." She glared at the face in the mirror and a hand waved happily at her, then went back to rest on the brace holding the mirror to the cab of the truck.
Maureen slid quietly into place behind the rig with Mr. Handsome. She had never let Derek know she understood Citizen Band Radio operation but she did. At least she knew the GO buttons and some of the sassy phrases truckers used. Derek was so far behind now he wouldn't ever know. She found the underdash button to raise the antenna. A second later she had opened the panel and was dialing Channel 19. "Breaker One Four to Sandusky Fruit. Do you read?"
"Loud and clear. What's your ten-twenty? You the pretty thing in the Merc behind me? What's your handler "Sandusky Fruit, this is the thing in the Merc takin' chrome off your back bumper. Tell me, San-dusky Fruit, are you fruity?" She giggled into the mike as she asked.
A rasping bellow of rage answered her taunt. "You gotta be that lesby broad workin' this road( Get lost, pretty Mere. Only fruit on my rig is in the refrigerator and on ice is where you're goin'!"
"Sandusky Fruit, you have a short fuse. I only heard girls don't bother you. Don't be sore. I'm glad they do. Over."
"Over your butt, Merc!" The radio rasped to silence.
"So look out, Sandusky Fruit. Look out and look down. This is Lovelips passin'. Why not prove I'm talking to a man-man." She accelerated slowly out into the passing lane and smiled impudently at the glare in her side mirror as she began to pass Sandusky Fruit. A glance in her rear view showed the highway deserted. It was the kind of wild notion that had needled her more than once, listening to some of the bawdy bar conversations while riding with Derek. Just as it was unlikely anyone could trace the talkers, so it was more than unlikely talking and showing at the same time ever would backfire with later repercussions.
Maureen felt the tremor of sheer daring grab her as she fingered the snap of her wraparound. She was sure Sandusky could see everything she did. That was just what she wanted. She puckered a kiss through the front window as she shed , her cover and a startled oath broke radio silence. "Be goddamned, Lovelips, you outta your wig?"
Her voice was low and sultry as she eased slowly past the tail gate of the big rig bearing the fruit of Peach Valley, Georgia. "Just bringing you a couple of peaches you missed back in the orchard, Sandusky, baby."
"Show me, Lovelips."
And she did.
Catching her breath at her reflection in the mirror, she pulled up to pace him just behind the cab door. She smiled saucily at the face staring down from the high rig. She blessed the selection of mikes that Derek had made as she rubbed it sensuously across her lips. It was egg shaped. To all intents, it was the glans of a man's cock in her hands. Watching the road ahead and the road behind and pacing the fruit truck perfectly, she let the driver case every exposed inch of her.
She wore nothing now but a bra of black lace that barely covered the centers of her breasts. A jauntily perched yellow hibiscus blossom was in the dark hair. Bra and blossom was all. Nothing else.
The incredulous driver, used to strange sights and curious come-ons to his good looks, had never seen a girl like this. From his high perch he stared down at the golden-tanned perfection of her maddening body. The gorgeous contours were on dramatic display, from the thrust of her breast line to the slope of her midriff curving down to the tantalizing flat plateau of her lower body. Shadowed as she drew near was the prettiest set of thighs he ever had seen, and he gawked at the bared crotch. Not only at the dark intrigue of that triangle where her thighs met, but at what she was doing.
With brazen openness, Maureen had the oval microphone pressed against her navel when the trucker first caught sight of what she held. Now she slid the mike across the sharp concavity of her rib cage and, holding it by the wire, flip-flopped the device from boob to boob. Then, kissing the oval of the mike while the trucker gaped, she pursed full, moist lips to the plastic as if it were a male organ.
She dropped the mike into her lap and pressed it suggestively between her lovely thighs. The act brought the voyeur's cock out of his fly into a clenched fist and he began a frantic masturbation, lest his dream disappear before he finish. He couldn't watch for more than seconds at a time, but the brief glimpse was enough. She was actually stimulating herself, too. He was sure of it.
"Ohmigosh!" His ejaculation moan stormed into the cab., of the Sandusky Fruit truck and a delighted Maureen saw the sparkle of wild semen shoot above his window ledge.
It was the reward she needed for newly discovered fun. And it was more than fun only. It was sweet revenge for the way those three devils in the rest stop had taken advantage of her. Something must have snapped inside, she decided, pulling away from the fruit truck and moving on down the road.
* * *
"Smokey at mile marker 233," came the hoarse-voiced warning as she tooled past the gas truck, unaware she was flying low. "Back fast off the hammer, Lovelips."
He knew her name!
Maureen had drawn a white lace mantilla over bare shoulders to conceal her near nudity, once she left her Sandusky tease, but, dressed or undressed, she had been recognized. It came sizzling home to her. The conversation via CB had a range of maybe five miles in the mountainous terrain. She had counted on that. No way she would risk such craziness if her Derek could possibly pick up the way she talked to Sandusky. But this one had heard the comment about white Marquis and dark hair and he had her pegged.
"Thanks, Honey wagon." She waved appreciation over her shoulder at the smiling face behind the windshield of the beer truck. "Guess I better get a new handle."
"Lovelips, you livin' dangerous," came the drawled warning. "You in blue grass country and we got us a pack o' high rollers who would like to get your ass in the blue grass. Over."
"Gotta catch this Mercury first," she laughed. "You ever see anyone hold mercury?"
She took the hammer off and coasted past the speed traps around Berea at the posted fifty-five.
"All clear, Lovelips," whispered her friends of the highway as she moved out again, heading South by Southwest. It felt good to be notorious.
* * *
Darkness came suddenly in the hill country. And the tire went even more quickly. It was a kind of a distant "WHOOSSHHH!" through the closed windows of the Marquis and she had to wrestle the power steering finger tip lightly to keep from spilling over to the soft gravel shoulder.
"Damn!" She settled back against the seat and listened to the night stillness around her, knowing there was no need to leave her car to know exactly what had happened. She had blown the front right tire and had absolutely not the foggiest notion of how to change it. Just as she reached for the mike to advertise her problem, she saw the headlights in the rear view. A truck, slowing to pull in behind her. "Little mayday problem, Merc out of Florida?"
At least it wasn't one of those behind her she had bedeviled with her private show or they'd have used Lovelips. "Big problem for me. I'm a nonmoving accident," she said into her mike. "I don't know how to change a tire."
"Me an' my buddy will help you."
The lights behind her dimmed to parking and, grateful that she had gotten decent in her wrap. around just before the blowout, Maureen stepped from her car. The two figures seemed to take forever reaching her as she bent to her trunk and fumbled for tools she never had learned to understand. The rig's forward parking lights gave off a soft yellow light. Obviously they were enjoying the scenery of her rear view, but Maureen felt completely at ease.
"You chomped a piece right dead center out of that tire," observed the leader of the pair. "By the way, I'm Amos Jefferson, ma'am."
"Thank you for stopping, Mr. Jefferson," she said, solemnly extending her hand to shake his and watching his man bend to dismantle the wounded wheel. "I'm Mrs. DeMours and --"
"Hell, you didn't have to tell met" he interrupted with a chortle that sounded very self-assured. "You're the legend of I-75. Lovelips is the handle, right? Got about half-a-dozen throttle jockeys ready to take right off the ground from the way they passed the word."
"Passed what word?" She tried to make it sound innocent and mystified, but it wouldn't wash.
"Here to Miami, sweetheart, by now. The white Mercury Marquis with the sweetest seat cover this side of heaven when she's willin' to show it. They're probably composing songs about you coast-to-coast by mornin'..."
"I don't believe you, Mr. Jefferson." She said it in a half-whisper and then she saw proof that friend Jefferson was anything but a good Samaritan on the highway. He had a lot of other help he wanted to offer her and the white barrel of his want gleamed boldly through the open fly of his pants to tell her Jefferson was confident she would take his help.
"You can call me Aim, instead of Amos, sweetheart." Chuckling happily he nudged close to her side and let the leaping shaft of warm wild cock brush along the back of her thigh. "See, I just love to take aim on a sweet willing thing like you."
It was a time for silence and Maureen kept hers while the other crouched at the wheel change. As she watched, her thoughts spun furiously. She had set herself up. She was with two who were taking her at her own face value and she had put the value there. All at once she felt the change beginning to come. Now there was nothing to blame it on. She was out on a dark Kentucky hillside and her reputation had followed her to this little patch of bluegrass.
Beside her Amos was peeling his shirt and she felt his stare, hot and intent. He patted her waist casually, feeling for the snaps of her wraparound. Suddenly alone and feeling very vulnerable in the soft yellow lights that framed the front of the truck body, she was on sensuous display to pairs of awed eyes as her cover fell away. "I seem to keep meeting bothered men today," she murmured, slapping Jefferson's hand away when he reached for her bra. "Don't you think you should say, 'Please, ma'am?' "
"Please, ma'am!" His voice lacked some of its original self-confidence.
In a slow, deliberate, tantalizing strip, her back turned from them in pretended shyness, she removed each Item from her body, feeling the lust building to fever heat behind her.
When at last she swung to face them she was completely nude, one long brunette tress tumbling across a sleek shoulder, curling at the swelling of her breast to neatly frame the dark aureole and accent a rigid nipple. She had a proud statuesque fearlessness there on that deserted hillside. Outnumbered two males to one girl, she still was in command. And she almost ,felt that way. In their simple sexual heat for her, their bared and turbulent erections stormed skyward in praise of her beauty. These two, like the other three, made her feel as Derek DeMours had miserably failed to make her feel in his weeks as her husband. Sex was sex. to these men of the road. They'd have roared disgust at Derek's suggestion that oral sex or any sex was dirty. Or would they?
Like a chilling wind from the north, the horrible thought came. They might think of her as just a cheap road tramp, like the kind that hung around the truck gas stops, putting out for a fast ten while the trucker refueled. Maureen strolled sensuously toward the one who called himself Jefferson. Head high, shoulders back, her breasts gleaming bright in the yellow glow of the truck lights, she stepped within reaching distance of Jefferson. She was committed to find out.
"Feel them, Amos." She looked down at her front and, to be sure he read her loud and clear, arched defiantly to make the already dazzling boob display thrust still closer. "Bet you think I'm a cheap pickup, don't you?"
Any lesser man than Amos Jefferson would have grabbed the opportunity to handle the fantastic display of beautifully animated, eager breast flesh. Jefferson was no ordinary man. He read signals that warned him.
"You mean, as we say CB style, I think you're a dress for sale? Some goddamned whore on the highway? Hell, no, I don't. You're a damned foolish girl, but no tramp." He glared at the hand that darted to partially cover a breast and pointed to her wedding band. "You're some married doll with a husband scrap goin'. You taldn' him outta our hides?"
Maureen moved in very close and her succulent nudity was warm through Jefferson's slacks. He felt the calm in the girl as she slid her arms across his shoulders and around his neck. Very slowly and deliberately she kissed him on the mouth, then, wriggling against his middle, forced his inflamed hard-on between her thighs. For a second she held motionless, head drawn back, staring into his eyes.
"Thank you for that. But I'm not taking a marriage fight out on stranger men." She felt his cock heat pulsing against her inner thigh muscles and knew their embrace was stopping any serious conversation. She needed one moment of seriousness to try to say out loud what she was going through on this crazy trip.
"Don't you truckers have a kind of sleeping bunk behind your cab seat? I feel so exposed out here. Could we go back there?"
"You know it. And there's where you gotta tell us what you're up to."
How the two men got naked coming through the truck cab door and over the seat to where the three of them cuddled was something Maureen didn't try to figure. But they were unclothed when they lay together in the back on a cozy mattress meant for one and holding three.
"I have to tell you," she murmured, casually fondling the erection rubbing her hip with one hand, at the same time stroking the other phallus jammed against her shoulder. "I have to find out what's clean in sex. My husband, says one part isn't. I don't believe that. If I thought he did four weeks ago, I wouldn't have married him."
"What's he say isn't clean?" demanded Jefferson, squirming against the delectable nudity of caressible Maureen. He still refrained from stroking or fondling this strange female till she said what she had to say. It was plain by the way she writhed in low-keyed uncontrol that all he or partner Bill Keyes had to do was to slip it in and grab. But waiting would pay off. Something in Jefferson made him positive.
Maureen's hand on his erection tightened. "Do you think oral sex is dirty? I mean, I like to suck and to be sucked. Derek thinks it's wrong and unclean."
"The goddamned fool! Of course it's clean? It's one of the cleanest kindsa play. Sounds like your old man has a buncha hang ups." He squirmed to the position that brought his head and shoulders over her hips and he rested his cheek on the taut, trembling plateau of her tummy for an instant. "Seems to me, it's time you got a demonstration instead of another lecture."
"What do you mean?"
Her deliciously supple body writhed in feline contentment to their new positions. Bill had been forced to shift when Jefferson sought the new position and it brought Bill's impressive sex equipment to the side of Maureen's head. In the soft light of the cab dash he gawked at the fantastic sight of his loaded testicles and outrageously stiffened prick nestled in the shimmering darkness of her hair. "What do you mean?" he heard her repeat when his partner didn't answer.
"I'm going to show you what I mean," muttered Bill. His hand caressed lightly over her mons and traced the cleft of her vagina. "This is the cleanest, most wonderful place in the world. Right through here when it's time is where a baby is born to life. Tell you what I believe, Lovelips, that someone up there is tellin' us he picked the sweetest, cleanest place for that kinda thing to happen."
"That's a beautiful thought," whispered Maureen.
"And look at that." Jefferson nodded toward his partner's unembarrassed display of all his sexual parts against the dazzling beauty of Maureen's hair. "I'm hetero as hell, but I think a man's sex organ is as clean as anything in the world. Least if he takes care o' himself like he oughta, it is."
"Do you think so, too?" Maureen tilted her face slightly to look at Bill and it brought her cute pug nose directly against the tip of his tormented cock crown. "Ooohhh! It does smell clean... "
"Let me show you how clean it is." Jefferson's voice was hardly audible as he bent to nuzzle into the sweet valley between her thighs. "I'm gonna lick every nerve in the prettiest place in the whole world."
Her legs opened to the warmth of his lips and he burrowed quickly, deeply into the magic of her sex center. His tongue was a spearing dart as it divided soft labia flesh and snaked for the clitoris.
"Ooohhh, yeahhssss!" She was almost instantly at the edge of orgasm and a self-controlled Jefferson eased off the tongue-strumming of her climax trigger. He was lightheaded, wild with want to take her, drive her into his cab mattress and stuff her with a brimming cock. But he was damned if he would, yet. Not till he showed her all guys weren't stuck on simple copulation. Not till , he showed her what he meant by clean.
He lifted his head to look across the contoured wonders of her front, deep into her eyes. "Love-lips, I'm gonna lick your sweet honeypot bone dry. I want every pore inside your cute cunt to know it's loved clean. You're gonna start comin' in a second from my lick lovin'. Come crazy, gal! An' if you get up for it, why don't you show old Bill there you think it's clean clear through to suck his penis. Be a happy cock sucker and proud o' it."
"Aim... Amos!" His name bubbled to her lips as he dove for the warm pussy slit and began a busy probing. "Amos, you're there! I... oh, dear... I'm cuh... commminnnhh!"
As if it would slow the frenzied climax emotion that tore to every corner of her body, she seized Bill's massive prick and stuffed the mushroom-shaped crown into her mouth. There, to the man's tortured delight, she did nothing at first but let the warm saliva of her wanting slush around the cap. In the cab mirror, Bill caught the unforgettable sight of the fabulously stacked voluptuary, her body deeply contorted on the camped sleeping deck, her wonderfully rich lips wrapped around his erection with most of the barrel still exposed. Her breasts were outspoken globes jutting in loneliness as she wriggled to the sweet agony of Jefferson's cunnilingus. That was the really maddening display of woman that Bill never had seen before in his twenty-eight years. A female in cum frenzy, hips and legs and loins in straining, writhing ecstasy to the educated tongue piercing deep into her cunt.
Maureen's eyes caught Bill's stare in the mirror and she saw she enthralled him. Her body was a rapture-driven torrid thing of beauty. And beautiful in her mouth was the sign, of all that threatened to spoil her marriage. A male organ driven into her lips.
Jefferson's face turned profile to the mirror as he mounted his newest cunnilingus attack on her vulva, and she gaped at the sight low on her body. His eyes sparkled happily and his lips were almost, but not quite, touching her pussy flesh. It was wonderful. She watched his tongue snake' unhurriedly along the dark cleft of her cunty gates, moistening and maddening them before he went in. Still keeping a little space between his lips and her labia, he tongued stiffly into the passion pit, bringing all his forty-five years of sex expertise into the act. If he knew she was staring, he gave no sign, totally occupied in driving her mad.
She watched the crimson dart as he licked busily just inside the threshold, able to see even as she felt the torture. Finally, when he had tongue-caressed every one of a million erotic nerves in her tender labia, he came at last to the clit. He paused, stopping the welcome torture a moment, and whispered across her front, "Feel clean to you?"
"Beautiful... ohhh, so right!"
"Show Bill how clean." Jefferson tilted his head and pressed his lips close. "I want to see if you come when he does."
"You know I will."
"Ain't never felt a woman come when she brings on a man that way. Show me."
It was artistry in snug quarters. No one noticed or cared in the least that they were cramped. Forced to bend far back, to suck Bill fully, Maureen loved the squeeze conditions. The three of them felt like one body in the small area. Jefferson, cramped into the lovely warmth of her wide-spread legs, felt her violent passion for oral sex as she engulfed an inch, then another, and still more of Bill's erection. When Bill began a violent trembling, his passion nearing crest, she showed her fellatio artistry. Easing her lip vise, she gentled the rampant prick to still another height. She was clearly leading him to a massive explosion.
"Guh... goddd, I'm goin'!" cried Bill hi last-second warning.
Simultaneously there was a bubbling frenzy, convulsing the muscles deep inside Maureen's vagina. Bill's tongue deeply driven picked up the signs instantly and he began an urgent probing to catch the magic that was taking her.
"Ahhh... yeah... YESSSS!" A storm of semen shot into Maureen's mouth. Milking and siphoning, she welcomed the violent blast of Bill's ejaculation. At its height her body went savagely rigid in trembling paralysis. Jefferson, burrowing between her legs, knew the signs. She was caught in her own runaway climax and the rapture of it momentarily transfixed her. A warm, lightly fragrant moistness bathed Jefferson's tongue and she moaned throatily as she took the last volcanic burst of Bill's coming.
They both watched her closely in the mirror as she uncoiled from the collapsing cock and leaned to an elbow. She reached for the tissue box on the ledge of the cab seat and they gawked incredulously at what she did next: Both were certain she would spit the ejaculation she had taken from Bill into the tissue. Instead, she propped herself in a sitting position, pursed her lips and sucked an index finger slowly and sensuously. It was glistening with mingled semen and saliva when she drew it out and both men gaped as the finger tip massaged the residue of Bill's climax across her taut nipples.
Violent tremors racked her frame as she did it once, twice, still a third time, each repeated instance building her more and more to a new fever of excitement. Then the tissue touched lightly at her lips and before their eyes she visibly swallowed the rest of Bill's ejaculation. "Love Mister Cum. I am a very proud, happy cocksucker." Her expression, the want in the eyes, the quiver in her breasts as she wilted to her back and reached for Jefferson, made it plain this was no act. "You better take me, Amos Jefferson! I want to feel our mounds push crazy at each other. I want you to fill me with your cum. NOW!"
They were locked together in a frenzied bundle of male and female flesh, writhing and straining within the tight confines of the bunk, grinding a newly aroused Bill hard against the cab wall. Both struggled and lost the battle to hold off demanding orgasms that raced too quickly. Moans of delighted vagina and overjoyed cock sounded inside the truck cab and then it was very quiet.
"My turn," came Bill's hoarse whisper beside them as they clung tightly together, feeling the thank-you spasms ripple across Maureen's front.
"You hear somebody?" demanded Jefferson.
"I hope so." She unwound from their inter-locked arms and legs and squirmed to angle her lower body toward Bill's lust.
"Hold it, guys!" hissed Jefferson. "Think we got company!"
Tail lights brightened in the outside mirror and the two men leaped clear of the bunk, groping into their pants. "Could be a company inspector," grunted Jefferson breathlessly, tossing Maureen her wraparound as he stepped down from the cab.
Blessing his foresight in bringing her things, Maureen hurried into her cover and was at the side' of the men by the time the new arrival had backed up to the Marquis.
"Derek!" Maureen darted to the driver's side of the U-haul two-and-a-half ton. "Thank goodness you didn't miss me. Come look at our beautiful new radial."
"For Pete's sake!" Her husband stared at the chunk of rubber missing from the new tire. "That was close!"
"Glad we happened along," chuckled an uncomfortable Amos. "You've got a plucky wife here, sir. She was goin' t'try to change this tire herself."
Derek surveyed the disheveled hair and the twisted wraparound. "By the looks of the try, she was going to have some big problems."
"That's us," observed a relieved Jefferson. 'We're the problem removers. Better get to your next Firestone dealer and demand full rebate. Betcha haven't got five hundred miles on this tire."
"Just about that," agreed Derek, crouching beside the two men. They declined his offer to take over the change.
"We got 'er this far. May as well let us take 'er all the way," chuckled Bill.
It was an indefinable something there in the night air. Derek couldn't put his finger on it. He looked at Maureen watching silently from the edge of the highway, then at the two truckers. Made no damned sense at all and he wondered if he was getting early warning signs that her was going to be a jealous husband. But there was something he sensed that couldn't be understood as anything sensible. A kind of a sexy something in the air. Maybe it was only what Maureen always seemed to do to men whenever they were around her. She was a turn-on to the toughest of them and he couldn't be sure, but there as he knelt at the side of the one who called himself Jefferson, Derek was sure he caught the whiff of Maureen's perfume. 'He was for sure getting paranoid about his wife, he decided.
"Baby, you better stay on my tail and follow me down to Murphy's," he said as the hubcap was tapped back into place. "It's just not safe out on the road at night and --"
"Derek! What a thing to say. These two wonderful men help me and you tell me I'm not safe!"
"Hell, I didn't mean it that way. I mean, next time you might not be as lucky."
"There won't be a next time!" She snapped it at him and felt instantly sorry her irritation... or was it guilt that surfaced so easily? "I'd go crazy at forty miles an hour in the Merc, Please don't make me trail you, Derek. I have the CB. I can take care of myself."
Derek looked at Jefferson and shrugged. "So, what would you do if you had this lady for your wife?"
Even in the low yellow glow of the parking lights the flush showed in Jefferson's face. "I reckon I'd just do everything she wants and nary have a quarrel about it."
"Hey, thanks," Derek grabbed the man's hand and pumped it, squeezing a bill into his palm. "Just let me say thanks somehow for giving my wife a hand."
Jefferson shook his head and looked at his partner, trying to hold back the urge to laugh. "Keep it." He shoved the bill into Derek's shirt pocket. "It was an honor to be of assistance. Let's roll, Bill." He beckoned his partner and the pair walked away.
"Thank you," called Maureen as they reached their cab. "You may have saved my life."
"Pleasure, ma'am." Bill tossed her a jaunty salute and started to say something else, thought better of it, and clambered into the truck.
CHAPTER THREE
"Breaker One-oner . Yo-ho, you candy-striped thermos bottle! This is Big John. You got a county mounty out in front?"
The red and white tanker trucker snorted in disgust. "Big John, back off the hammer. You're plumb into my butt."
"Sorry, Candy Stripe. What about black and white? Any smokey on rubber out front of you? Big John, over."
"Hell, no. No county mounty... no smokey . no black and white. What's with you, Big John? You hidin' from the law?"
"Not me, baby. I'm outta Circle City with a load o' spare ribs. But I was gonna put the hammer down and go chasin' that pretty seat cover what jus' passed you."
"Good luck, Big John. She blew my door off passin' me like she was an airyoplane. I hollered, you better believe. Tell you she bent my windows, shoutin' back on her box. Said she was on her way to Murph's and showed me some pretty leg when she passed."
"Be damned! Me too, thermos bottle."
"Whatcha thinkin', Big John?"
"I'm thinkin' I'm agonna hit the green stamp lane." The big rig with the load of meat out of Indianapolis roared into the passing lane and pulled alongside the tanker truck. "Gonna high-ball it to Murph's and get me a piece o' the trick from bikini state."
"She wearin' Florida plates?"
"That's about all she was awearin' when she passed me."
* * *
Maureen woke suddenly and for a moment of puzzled bewilderment had no idea where she was. Then she oriented. The Murphy's Trucker Stop sign, glowing high above the ramps of diesel and rated octane pumps, reminded her. She was at the edge of Kentucky's southern border. She was alone in her car where she had fallen asleep after the frustration of being turned back at the access drive up the hill to Murph's.
"Sorry, lady, we don't allow no civilian cars, no tourists, no nothin' but guys drivin' a bucket o' bolts, eighteen wheels or somethin' that makes 'em honest-to-God road jockeys."
"I'm honest-to-God hungry and a very good road jockey," she protested, wishing she didn't look so darned city slicker driving a Marquis and wearing a white mantilla high on the neck.
The elderly gate watcher had thrown up his hands and turned away. "Unless you're ridin' in a truck, you can't get onto Murph's property. He'll have my neck if I letcha."
"But my husband... he's coming right behind me in a truck. Doesn't that make me eligible.?"
"Eligible when you're in the cab with him."
Nothing else was left so Maureen backed down to the lane from the highway to the truck stop, pulling well off the macadam to wait for Derek. It was a soothing cool night outside and, rolling down her windows, she pushed her seat to full expansion and curled for a snooze.
The two faces appeared out of the darkness without a sound. She saw them just as her door swung open.
"Hot damn, Charlie, lookee here!"
An evil leer looked down at Maureen and suddenly, shatteringly, she was aware she had been stupid. Around truckers she was safe, but she had just assumed truckers were the only ones around Murph's.
"Expectin' someone special, babe?" The hand was bold on her breast and she, for the first time in her life, was very frightened. "You must be that new dress for sale we hear gets into Murphy's tonight."
"I am not!" She straightened very slowly in her seat and fought the wild pounding in her chest. "I am a police officer and if you want to be foolish just do what you're thinking."
"Don't that beat all, buddy?" The hand left her breast and now clamped a painful vise on her wrist. "You hear of any police officers up here in Kaintuck out of Florida?"
"Do seem a mite far from home," cackled his companion. "Best be careful --"
"Screw that! You gettin' to be a dull shit, Charlie!" A pimpled face was very close to Maureen's. "And I wanta do a number on this cute trick with the high fallootin' shawl!"
Her body was airborne as it left the car seat, flung aloft by the powerful arm of the pimpled one. She landed in soft sticky slop and was on her feet running for the old man's gatehouse shack when a blow slammed her to her back. This time she stayed down.
"C'mon, Charlie boy. Let's get the hot one over to the woods." He dragged both of her arms behind her and an oath exploded from his lips as her mantilla fell away from her shoulders. "Be a sonofabitch! This broad is wearin' nothin' but brazeery under the shawl! C'mon, Charlie, we're goin' t'do some dong dippin' in class ass."
They almost made it with her to the edge of the pines. If the pimpled bully hadn't stopped en route to drag his cock from his fly, they would have. At the last second in the open the beam of a truck barreling off I-75 up the access road pinned the three of them with its bright light. There was an unearthly grating of metal on metal as wheels, brakes, and everything Big John could lay his feet and hands-on to stop the rig got into the act.
"Sheeyitt... Charley... get her outta sight!" Her assailant dragged viciously on his captive's arms-and never saw her kick coming. With a strength she never knew she had, Maureen grabbed his one second off balance and caught him squarely in the groin with her heel.
"Ayyyyeeeee!" The pimpled one crashed dead weight to the ground, clutching his groin. Big John was on him as he made it to his feet to race for the cover of the woods. The trucker never even bothered to make a fist, backhanding his face to-and-fro. Then doubling him with an elbow in the gut, Big John left him silent on his face with a chopping blow across the nape of the neck.
"I know this little turd!" he snorted, rolling Maureen's assailant to his back. "He's the kind of bastard who gives the industry one helluva name. Probably lives about a mile from here and jus' feeds off stoo --" Big John broke off and flashed an ear-to-ear grin at Maureen's face. "You all right?"
"Go ahead and say it," she sighed. "I was stupid. I was napping with my car window open and he and his friend saw an easy mark."
"You! Hey, old man!" bellowed Big John at the frightened face at the gatehouse shack door. "Call the bear cage and get a smokey out here to collar this little s.o.b. You wanta make a complaint, miss?"
"I... I don't know. Maybe they can just take him in for trespassing. I can't stay, really."
"Don't blame you." Big John's eyes suddenly widened in recognition. "Hey... that your Marquis there by the road?"
She caught his arm as a rut in the slope leading down to her car tripped her. For a second her breast was full and vulnerable against his hand. It said a lot to Maureen when he actually apologized as she shivered close to the hugeness of her rescuer. "Thank you very much. I really needed the help."
An overhead ramp light illumined the front of his slacks and she saw the ridgepole of Big John's excitement. What a fantastic difference, she thought. Big John horny hot for it just as much as the creepy neighborhood rapist he'd rescued her from. But Big John, for all he wanted it, wasn't taking the cheap shot the bully had.
It was just one of those impulses, but, once felt, there was no way Maureen could resist acting on it. Her fingers were bold and curious as they reached across him for the bulge in his slacks. She squeezed the length and the breadth and when he gasped, she groped for his zipper. "Come, let me say thank you my way," she murmured, tugging him toward the Marquis.
"Let me get my rig off the road." He broke from her and dog-trotted toward his semi, stopping suddenly to call back down the hill. "Hey, better idea. Ride into Murph's with me. I got a room reserved."
Her giggle was happy-go-lucky girlishness dancing across the distance separating them. "I can't. I'm waiting for someone and I have to stay with my car."
"A him someone? 'Nother road jockey?"
"My husband," she replied. "Go get your truck off the driveway and come back."
Within moments he was at the passenger side door, starting to enter the front when he saw her in the back seat. She smiled engagingly at his startled expression and beckoned him to the back.
"You must be kiddin'!" He slammed the door and slumped back against the soft cushions of the car. "You really mean your old man's comin' down the pike?"
"Back at least fifty miles." She cuddled against a massive shoulder. "Time for me to say thanks."
Big john was clearly ill at ease. "Look, I heard about you. I know your handle. Lovelips. I know who, when and where in the last two hundred miles. I gotta lot o' respect for you, Lovelips. But I got too much for you."
"Whatttt?" Tiny tremors of building excitement tore through her startled thoughts. She had been expecting his refusal to play and that would be that.
"I'm too damned big. You felt it."
"Not all the way." She burrowed through the wrinkled denims and flipping open the fly, groped through Big John's jock briefs. For silent seconds she simply traced the man's erection, getting its full dimension. He was a little hard to believe. In the darkness of the back seat she had to guess, but it was a cock at least twelve inches long. Her fingertips described the curve of the corona cap. She caught her breath. He was at least three inches at the wide point of his glans and the shaft had to be two stiff inches thick. Idly she toyed with the huge glans, letting her finger drift under the ledge, watching his head loll back to the delicious torture. "Why did you invite me to your room at Murph's, if you're too damned big?"
His stare bore into her eyes. "You agree lam?"
"I didn't say that. I wondered why, if you really think so, you wanted' to take me to your room. Tell me?"
Her directness had him off guard. "You'll laugh."
"Try me."
He. shifted uncomfortably from their closeness and his hand reached for her fingers toying with his shaft. At first she thought he was going to make her disengage. Instead, he simply cupped his huge mitt around her hand, squeezing lightly, then pulling.
"Our road jockey bunch are a tough crowd." He sighed and waved her to silence when she started to protest. "I know what you're going to say. But with each other we're tough, even when we're nice to pretty ladies. So you gotta promise this is for your ears only."
"Secret. Okay, I promise."
"Been thinkin' 'bout you ever since they started talkin' about Lovelips up the road over my box. Really didn't believe it was for real when I saw your Mere here, even though they was talkin' 'bout you comin' hell-bent for Murphy's. See, I was workin' a daydream while I hammered down to get here. Figured I might see you in the dining room."
"What were you daydreaming?"
He sucked in his gut and the massive equipment in her fingers surged high. "I dreamed I'd get you into the room I have here. They call it the bridal suite. No stuff! Figured I'd lash you to the bed and beat off over you."
"Lots o' girls. Some guys. Them I could handle. But when your old lady tells you what mine did, you kidding me, Big John?"
"Not kiddin'! I got too much. I've known it all my life."
"Who told you?"
"Lots o' girls. Some guys. Them I could handle. But when your old lady tells you what mine did, that I'm a freak... "
"They all should be exterminated!" snapped Maureen. "No man can be too big for love."
"Tell you the truth, I jus' sort o' settled for friggin' for my sex. I get some big kicks. Even got it down to where I can get it off without. too big problems while I'm rollin' down a four laner on a dead day like this."
"
"Did you do it today?"
"Hell, no. Had too much thinkin' goin' on." He threw a frightened glance to try to read her. "You think I'm a creep, I bet."
She stretched across his barrel chest and tilted her face to his, lips puckering poutingly. A light kiss and she backed off an inch or two, still puckered. "Do you see my lips, Big John?"
"I guess." Perspiration dotted his forehead and the organ pulsed in her grip.
"Those aren't my mouth lips really," she murmured. "Those are my labial lips. You know what labial lips are?"
He was perspiring profusely now and nodded. "I think lots o' times looking at a lady's mouth, about her vagina. Thought I was a little queer there, too."
"I don't know about all the girls in the world, Big John, but you're looking at the exact size of my teensy pussy slit." She tapped her lips as she spoke and felt his cock surge to the word "pussy." He liked it. She puckered and relaxed her lips in suggestive little contractions. "Pussy pull... pussy pull," she whispered. "Still think I'm a lady?"
"You know it." His voice was a barely audible croak and his eyes couldn't leave her mouth.
"You aren't going to do a thing, Big John. You think your cock is too big for anything but masturbating. I'm going to show you something to remember. Is my pussy teensy?"
"God, I guess!"
"I'm going to copulate with your big one, Big John. This way first. Watch and then figure what that means about my real pussy."
Very methodically she went to work on the stallion hugeness. Working in tiny nibbles at first, slowly opening her lips to engulf more and more of the darkened glans, she was near the outer immensity of the ledge when she shifted position. "Relax... biggmmmmmm! I want you to see it go inside."
The oval of her mouth widened and at the last instant her eyes danced happily across his changed expression. He clearly wanted it in her. "Oh, my gosh... yesss... YESSSS!"
She was unchained fury with the indriven organ pressed as far back as she could take it, tickling the roof of her mouth and sending crazed joy sounds spewing from his lips as she began to milk him madly.
"My God! I ... . I never... ohhh ... . loon... look out!"
The spray was a warm frenzy of overjoyed male, racing from' the depths of his want into the sucking lips of the strangest, most wonderful female of the species. Big John had never known another like this.
She unwound slowly from her position in his lap and he watched her enjoy the gift he had ejaculated, then curl in a lightly trembling bundle of need-filled woman against his shoulder.
"Take me," she whispered. "He's still hard and ready. I need you. Please, this time you fuck me where you want it most."
The shudder traveled violently across his shoulders. "Damn! I'd do it, if we was inside. Here!" He shoved the key into her hand and stuffed his unsurrendered erection back through the fly of his pants. "The bridal suite is 2-A. I keep it myself half the time and the name is a joke. But you and your old man got it for tonight. If you don't mind havin' an audience, there's a kind of a nice kook who runs Murph's dorm and private rooms. Jake has a big one-way mirror next to the bed. He likes to watch when couples have it."
"Where'll you be?" A disappointed Maureen watched him open the Marquis door to leave.
"Likely watchin'. But if your husband leaves, like for the hall shower or a bite o' food, you'll probably be jumped by Big John." He squeezed her knee. "Thanks for showin' me somethin' about myself."
"Thank you for letting me eat him." He hovered hesitantly for an instant, muttered in frustration and started to close the door. "Aren't you going to help a lady out?" She took his hand and stepped to the grass beside the car. Brazenly she clutched the hand that had helped her and guided it to her crotch. "Feel me," she whispered.
A finger prowled cautiously under the wrap-around hem and rested tentatively on her mons curve. "That is something else," he said breathlessly. "You better put your panties on."
"Put it inside me." She tugged the index finger toward her cleft, pressing close against his front so he could do it without her looking. "Hurry! There's no traffic coming. You know what to do."
"You mean... " His voice was barely audible.
"Masturbate me... hurry!"
The finger prowled quickly under the flanges of her labia and went directly to the taut nubbin of her clitoris. In tiny, tenderly tantalizing strokes over the clit, he fired instant passion and felt it. Her arms were feverishly tight around his back as she came and at once her head tilted far back, her eyes staring glassily into the starry sky.
"Thank you." She kissed him quickly and broke for the driver's' door of the Marquis, stumbling slightly off balance as she hurried away from a plaything she hated to leave.
Watching him drive up into the parking ramp moments later, she settled back in the darkness of her now securely locked car and wondered at the madness. At the very least she had shown a man something of his many reasons for pride. A great hulking giant had found new feelings for his body and she had given him that with oral sex. It was very little to ask. Derek be damned. It was a beautiful thing to do for a man.
Distantly she could. see a familiar truck light pattern. It was a U-Haul. Could be Derek. The truck slowed as it neared and pulled to the shoulder behind her. "Hey, lady, lookin' for someone?"
She dashed into his arms and held him as if they had been separated for years. "Looking for you," she whispered. "I've already had a delegation."
"From where?"
"Murph's. They wouldn't let me inside till you arrived and took me in by truck. But someone felt badly when I told the gateman we were spending the night. The management even sent a key out." She wigwaggled Big John's room key to 2-A. "See, the bridal suite, even."
Derek snorted resignedly. "Hell, this is one night I could bypass that. I sure tan use sleep. The rattletrap I'm driving must have square wheels. I am shot to hell."
* * *
Two hours later she had no doubt stopping at Murphy's Truck Stop, and especially staying in the bridal suite, had been a dumb idea. Derek was in an awful mood. He had no suspicions about her behavior. She wished he did. Instead of jealousy when he noticed the appraising candor of the truckers in the restaurant, he was turned on to a wholly new streak of conversation about their relationship.
"You know, I've been doing a lot of thinking, riding down here," he began. "Been kind o' mulling a new idea. What do you think of open marriage?"
"I don't think a thing about it." She caught a glimpse in the mirror of a casually tumbled lock of brunette hair drifting across her forehead. That had begun the irritation with Derek. He had said nothing about her disheveled state or about the scratches on her arm from the spill in the field. He seemed lost in thoughts more important to him.
"I kinda like the idea. Two can be in love and they can still have their private lives."
"You mean private lives every which-way? Sex ways, too?"
"Well, yeah. I was readin' this from a book by a psychologist and he said it's good."
Maureen didn't answer, concentrating on her onion soup. When she finished, she looked across the table at her husband. "Is that why we're sitting opposite each other, instead of side by side? That's a first time for us, you know."
"I know, baby. You gotta understand. I'm pooped and just wanted to spread out in the booth." He colored at being put on the defensive and went back to his question. "I think open marriage is a pretty good idea as a way of life. Each one does her or his own thing."
"I don't!" flashed Maureen. "And you didn't a month ago. I think a couple can be so complete . for each other and if they really understand the other's needs, their marriage can be a very closed affair and very happy."
Derek actually smirked as he broke the hard roll and buttered himself a piece. Another telltale sign that something was bugging her man. She always had thought it was a mark of his difference that Derek enjoyed doing the little things. Like buttering her a piece of roll before he helped himself, for instance. "I get what you mean... that old make-one-someone-happy bit."
"You are making me angry, Derek." She said it very softly and her lips hardly moved, but every word reached him.
"Sorry, kid. I'm just pooped, I guess." He reached across to squeeze her hand. "I've been having too much time to think, with this solo flight in the damned truck and you out there getting blowouts, whistling on down the road on your own... and wanting it that way. Sorta' makes a guy wonder if his girl wouldn't like to keep her own life and do her own thing."
Maureen's eyes sparkled angrily. "I married to make one life! I've been doing my own thing for twenty-five years. It's not a marriage, as far as I'm concerned, till I know everything you want that's good for you. And you know what's good for me."
The waitress was at the table with their dinner. It wasn't just the way Derek enjoyed the topless treat that Murph's provided their trucker visitors in all the female help. It was the way his hand deliberately drifted from the arm of the booth bench to touch lightly at her hip as she bent with his plate.
"Be costing you ten percent more, sir, if Jake sees that." The girl winked saucily at Maureen. "He's lucky he's with you. Jake saw and he has a hard and fast rule. Don't touch the merchandise or pay ten percent more on the tab."
"Merchandise?" wondered Derek out loud. "You mean it's for sale?"
The waitress straightened as though he had slapped her and Maureen noticed that the slightly turgid nipples went instantly flat to Derek's insult. Her hand darted to catch the girl's wrist. "I apologize for him. Please, don't make a scene. He didn't mean it the way he said it."
The hardness in the girl's expression eased. "Maybe you better explain manners to him. Even truck stops have them. Can I bring you anything else?" She directed the question to Maureen who looked at Derek; he was focused on the main course and out of the conversation.
"We're fine."
The waitress rolled her eyes in despair for Maureen and left.
At three different tables in the dining room Maureen saw them. Men of the road with whom she had been intimate at various times during the day. Now she felt only a very good reaction to it. There at the table by the window were Sonny and Ed and Crew-cut George. And two tables beyond were Amos Jefferson and Bill Keyes. Sitting alone and quietly watching from a distance was her latest playmate, Big John. Every one was very special to her and every one was obviously extremely pleased with his secret.
Especially pleased was Jake Zender, night manager of the restaurant and the sleeping facility. He had learned to read signs over the years and tonight was already building to something very special, if he read the signs right. At least half-a-dozen men in. his restaurant were intimately acquainted with that newlywed female. At least ninety percent of the rest of the dining room would love to be acquainted.
Normally by nine at night his three super stack jobs with the overdeveloped breasts, the wild hips and the impudent asses were spoken for. It was no whorehouse operation. The truck stop was too long in business to even tolerate stray females wandering the gassing area as some places allowed. Only long time repeat truckers at Murph's, the regular professional who had won acceptability to one of the three sizzling waitresses, ever got to play with them. But out there in his dining room Jake saw two who normally asked a night or a few hours with one of the girls, and hadn't yet. Something was in the air and the focus was on the gorgeous creature there with the character who had just insulted Milly.
"That creep called me merchandise," Milly stormed to the other two waitresses back in the service area. "He'd have boiling coffee in his lap right now, if it wasn't for his wife. She apologized."
"
"She's beautiful. I hate her."
"I know a secret, Milly." The third waitress with flame-red hair and nipples that never ever flattened leaned across the condiment counter in the service pantry. "She's got a rap out on I-75. I heard 'em talkin' on the box. She's Lovelips and you wouldn't believe this, but... " Voice lowering to a whisper, the redhead back-tracked what she had heard. "I got conversations all the way to Lexington on that crazy antenna down at the shack," she insisted when the doubt showed in her listeners. "Really beats me. She's a nice person but she's makin' out like a nympho."
Milly curled a disdainful lip. "It's that ridiculous husband she's got. Betcha that marriage won't last another whole month. He actually put a paw on my derriere when I brought his dinner."
"Tell Jake the Snake," giggled the redhead. "Make him pay the ten percent for the feel job."
"I couldn't." Milly looked toward their table from behind the latticework grill separating the service pantry from the customers. "She's very polite and apologized for her husband's remark. But even if she hadn't, I wouldn't do that. Every jock in the place saw him do it and they'd think I was just showing jealousy of her, if I did."
"You jealous, Milly?" The redhead was watching her closest friend for her answer.
"'Course I am, DeeDee." Milly had a refreshing honesty. "I'm jealous of him, not her. She is so sexy. I'd love to get my hands on her for just about one hour. She must feel like honey and butter all over."
DeeDee edged close to Milly's tail and her hand slid round her front to cup under a breast. "Your signs are up, Milly." There was no malice in the redhead's observation. "Why don't we try to make Jake a thrill tonight? We'll all go in to her. Don't we always welcome first-time females in the bridal suite?"
Milly visibly shivered. "How'd you hear about that? For heaven's sake, don't let Big John know you heard he gave up his room. He is so darned shy and I'm so darned hot for him. You know what he told me last time when I almost broke him down to come spend the night with me?"
"Tell... tell!" The girls leaned close to hear the whispered secret.
Across the room Jake was turning over his stool behind the cash register to his elderly assistant cashier. Alice had been a ward of Jake's for years and even though she shocked easily, blushed to the bared breasts of the waitresses, she liked her work. "Got some things to attend to over there," he said, nodding toward the stairs to the sleeping area.
A curious quiet came over the dining room as Jake walked down the aisle of tables, greeting regulars and smiling at road jockeys making their first stop at Murphy's. He cut an interesting, bizarre figure, this middle-aged, well-preserved man with the dark shiny toupee and the thinline mustache. It was rumored that he had gay urges, but no trucker ever had been solicited and those that knew Jake as Big John knew him, were well aware of Jake's real urges.
Jake was a compulsive voyeur. In the two principal suites he had installed two great see-through mirrors. The knowledgeable knew that Jake liked to slip into the unused passageway between the two suites and occupy his free time watching the action of the couples he quartered in 1-A and 2-A. When it wasn't some overnighter with his traveling companion--always fun to watch--it was one or more of his waitresses with their very special trucker friend of the evening. Tonight the Bridal Suite had been surrendered by Big John. for this husband and wife from Florida. That in itself was a first and it augured well for the action he'd be seeing.
There was just one problem. It was Big John's demand that he be allowed into the empty between-rooms-passageway to do his own voyeuring of this Derek DeMours and his wife Maureen. Jake never had allowed that before, but you didn't tell six-foot-seven-inch, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound Big John where he was allowed. He could do as he wanted.
* * *
"Baby doll, are you ever loaded tonight!" Derek, supine under the straddling Maureen, looked up into the passion-driven beauty of his wife's face. "Don't I remember doing something like this a couple of hours back?"
"Eight hours, Dare. Eight and a half hours and I'm about to expire needing you!"
She flipflopped the limp penis and her disappointment was hard to hide. "Let's sleep and maybe you'll forget to keep score on how many times."
Wilting to his side, she stretched nude against the golden spread of the king-size bed and reached for his hand. "You still awake, Dare?"
"Mmmmhh." He opened his eyes and his expression was sober. "Know something I been think-in' about? It's another of those no-nos that you hate. But I think this is a good one."
An impatient Maureen caught a corner of the bedspread and dragged it over as much of her sleek body as she could, burying her head under her arm. "I don't want to hear it. It sounds ominous."
"Not really." Derek sprawled on his back, arms akimbo, looking over at the cute bundle of his wife huddled half-hidden under the spread. All her lower body was exposed and he reached to tap the smooth slope of her ass cheek. "This is what I want to talk about. You can get too much, you know."
"Who says?" She slapped the hand away anti shoved to an elbow to stare down at her man.
"I'm just telling yon the facts of life. You can copulate too much. I think we should start a definite program early in our marriage and stay with It. I'd like to see us do it about once, maybe twice a week the first few years, at least. Maybe longer before we start to taper off the way marrieds always do."
"That's sick!" A wave of instant depression flooded Maureen. She was listening to her future and it was nauseating. "You never thought four times a night was too much before we were married. You never ever could believe that! Making love is the best thing that ever happened to bodies. I've read it from a whole lot of experts who know lots more than either of us. Derek, you can't believe you can do it too much!"
His sigh was audible to the listener in the passageway. "Sorry, doll. I do. It is definitely something you have to pace. Specially a man. Face it, a man really has to put out compared to the girl. And now that we're heading back to work and our new home 'and all, I've got our futures to look out for. I mean, I've got to stay fresh and sharp."
"And you intend to do that by cutting out sex love?"
"Aw, look, doll... I didn't say cuttin' out... just cuttin' down a little now that we're married and getting back to responsibility and ... ."
"You can go to hell!" The words stormed from Maureen's lips and she flung her leg over the side of the bed, looking contemptuously down at the speechmaker. "I am going to help you start your little celibacy kick, Derek DeMours. Right now."
"Watcha doin'?" He watched her fling the wraparound across her shoulders, then force her arms angrily through the three-quarter sleeves. "Hey, you're not leavin'?"
"I am going, Derek. Go ahead and make a scene. I have some friends out there who would like to hear it. I am going to get another room for the night, if they have one."
"Aw, shit!" He rolled to his side and pretended to ignore her as she slapped her things into the overnighter. "You'll be back in five. Why don't you call in a trucker," he added sarcastically. "You have my permission."
"Don't be smart!" Maureen strode in high-heeled anger to the door and fought the impulse to slam it behind her as she stepped into the hall. Jake barely made it to the lobby before she arrived, slipping behind the counter casually and folding open a newspaper.
"My husband is feeling ill." She lies with a convincing smile, thought Jake. "You probably don't have any more empty rooms. I just thought I'd ask so I could let him sleep undisturbed."
"Why, of course we do, Mrs. DeMours. For you. Same hall. Right next door to 2-A almost. It's the suite we call our Anniversary Suite. Doesn't mean anything. We just try to make like New York."
"I'll take it."
* * *
Just an hour earlier she had signed in for her husband and herself as Mr. & Mrs. Derek DeMours. The observing Jake, privy to the bedroom spat and tuned to every sexual interest in his collection of hypered men and girls, saw a very busy evening coming for one Maureen DeMours. It would make a very fascinating fillip even to draw the pooped hubby into the action and let the chips fall around his jealousy. "I'll show you to your room myself, Mrs. DeMours," he said silkily, bending for her overnighter and leading the way to the stairs.
It was when Jake paused to fumble the key into 1-A that Maureen's ire with Derek was first shunted into the background. She remembered what Big John had said about a kinky but nice Jake Zender and about his voyeuring point. Her wrath with Derek overriding shyness, she waited till Jake closed the door and was walking toward the air conditioner next to the huge wall mirror. "Does that drape pull across that mirror?" she asked innocently as he fiddled with the air conditioner.
His expression was frozen disappointment as he swung to look at her. "Why... uh, yes, ma'am. Believe it does."
Maureen had the instinct of tigress. She strode regally to the killing of Jake's hoped-for voyeuring. It was impossible to restrain a smile as she heard the light cough behind the mirror signalling that Big John must be there. The cute bastards! They wanted to watch her with or without a man. The exhibitionist in Maureen flared when Jake turned and his jacket spilled open. The jig was up. He apparently didn't care whether she saw his aroused bulge or not. He must be expecting the window on his fun to be shut off and impishly she reached for the draw cord at the mirror's edge.
"Would you close the drapes over the picture window, too, Mr. Zender?" She was fumbling the zipper at the back of her neck while she pulled the mirror drape almost but not quite closed.
When Jake turned from the window, she saw his eyes dart to the mirror and catch sight of the tiny opening she had left. A visible change in his expression, he hurried for the door. "Will there be anything else, miss?"
"None, unless you can think of a way to give my husband a super vitamin tomorrow. He's just so tired lately, I've forgotten I'm married." She looked with disarming directness straight into his eyes and Jake felt the wild quiver of want. With only a little guts he would have offered, but the comment could have been purely innocent. And he was as bashfully hung up on the approach to a sophisticated female as was Big John.
"Oh, before you go, could you do something about this dumb zipper? It seems to have jammed." Her fingers caught a handful of gorgeous brunette hair that trailed across her shoulders and pulled it to the side. She was fully aware of what he saw. Her rear view was superlative and every curve was highlighted by the body-molding mini-wrap she had grabbed before storming out on Derek. The gold lame had a fleshy tone and it moved slinkily with the taut contours of her shoulders and tail. Nothing was left to Jake's imagination.
Never in dealing with thousands of transient wives and truckers' girl friends in Murphy's hostelry had Take ever had a better opportunity. A wife he knew had played with several of the truckers staving with him at this very moment was touching close. She was mad at her husband and vulnerable to Jake's private desires. Whatever he did, she would never make an issue of it, might even like it. "Lock seems broken," he muttered, bending awkwardly and disappearing momentarily from her view in the vanity mirror. His face popped up over her shoulder again and he wore an almost apologetic expression. "If you can be patient, miss, I can have it loose in a second."
"It's Mrs.," she corrected, giggling. "But I'm afraid you're right. I'm a miss for the night." Behind her as she spoke there was a soft whisper of a zipper and she knew it wasn't hers. She heard the sound of tightened breathing. "Just make the teeth meet and I think the zipper will slide," she suggested.
"Think I'm getting it." She felt his fingers fiddling busily at the lock and they were the fingers of only one hand. Behind the mirror, across the room, she was sure she heard the sound of shuffling. They were being watched by Big John. "Why don't you lift your arms above your head? That might make the material hang looser for me to work on."
"You should be a dress designer. You understand women's clothes." As she spoke she felt his hands at her hips, pretending to smooth the lame material, and then an odd sound came from deep in his throat. Unable to hold off any longer, Jake's hands roamed away from the wide hips, up the dramatic concaving of her midriff, carrying the dress with them, over the outspoken orbs of her breasts, caressing as they went. Suddenly the material was up and over her head.
"Don't be frightened, Mrs. DeMours." He was panting hoarsely, his hands back down the slope of her back prying at her panties. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just had to see you without you seeing me staring."
Belief in Maureen was instant. She wasn't the least afraid of Jake or of any man, but she was terrified he'd do something that would blow the whistle on any kind of fun night at all. Big John considered himself her protector and, with little motivation, she knew he'd come straight through the mirror at Jake.
"Ohhhh, I love that." She flung her arms high above her head, stretching the gold cloth with them, staying virtually blindfolded. "I want you to look at me all you want, Jake. Take me to where I won't fall. Is it better if I can't watch you?"
"Much!" He steered her to the king-size bed and eased her to her back, worming between her legs as she relaxed in the unexpected prison of her tugged-up skirt. It was a kinky start to an evening in which he needed so much, more than this, but something might 'happen to Jake to make him relax.
"What are you going to do?" she whispered, when she felt him crawl into the valley between her legs, then stop at her knees. "Would you do something special for me?"
There was no answer and by the rasping sound low in his throat Maureen knew Jake was out of his depth and ready to run from what he wished he hadn't started. She fought the impulse to drag the cover from her face and free her arms. Direct eye contact now would really ruin the chance of play.
"You might laugh at me, Jake, but please don't. I need a huge favor. I've always wanted a man to put his organ into my panties. You know, not really do me... just almost... oh, Jake, yess!"
He grabbed the suggestion and flung himself across her lower frame, propelling his erection directly to the elasticized lower edge of her panties, then fingering under to make room. His prick shoved eagerly up and under the panties, trapped by the elastic which forced it snugly against her pulsing venus mound. Pubic hairs rubbed against the cap as Jake began a piston thrusting and the friction of the soft down drove him wild.
"Mon dieu! Mon dieu!" Want agony spilled from his lips in his native French and suddenly Maureen understood. Here was a man native to the land of love who didn't know how to make it. It was the, clue to all his hang-ups.
"Jacques... Jacques!" Her hips writhed frantically as she tried to force his attention, calling his real name. "Jacques, vous etes tres magnifique! Jake, tear off my pants and do me for real!"
"Mais non, mam'zelle." He was off on Cloud Nine of pretense. "Mam'zelle demande amour comme ga. Maum'zelle, ohhhh!" His body was shuddering to the force of his thrusts as he changed to the tongue of his adopted America. "I give you love like you asked for it."
Surrendered to his wants, Maureen arched against the pillow on the bed, wishing she could see what Big John must be watching through the mirror.
Again the violent pistoning began as he humped wildly against her pubic mound, the long shaft traveling back and forth on the outside, pressed tightly by the elastic lace. Faster and faster, up and down. To Maureen it was a sheer frustration, missing the target by scant inches as he continued to simulate the act across her mons. He was getting his thrill from the fabric and the short tendrils of her cunty hair.
His semen spurted hotly across her tummy, the barrage blocked by the top edge of her panties.
And abruptly it stopped.
His breathing was the short staccato of man beside himself with more need. As he withdrew slowly, pulling his unsurrendered erection free of its panty trap, she knew reality might terrify him, if he came down to earth too fast. She had to keep his fantasy alive.
"That was beautiful," she lied, feeling her body tremors quicken to' the desire his cum triggered, spattered and useless over the flat of her tummy. "Jacques, will you --"
"Shut up with Jacques!" he growled. "I'm Jake."
"I am Maureen, Jake." His repulse of her effort to reach him in his native tongue was ominous. "Jake, take off my bra and let me show you what you've done to me. Please! My nipples are going mad from what you just did. You've got to help them!"
"Gonna stare at your goodies," he hoarsed. "Your bra is on its way off, babe. You like to show yourself off there, don't you, sweet ass? Not just to your hubby either, right?"
"Oh, you are so right, Jake! Take it off me. You're hard and you'll get harder when my boobies are lookin' you in your eye! You have three super chicks with super breasts waiting table, but none of them have nipples that. stick out like mine. See!"
She talked whisper-low and fast as he bent across her to fiddle awkwardly with the bra snaps under her shoulders. One wrong tone and he would run. He, was that shy. He and Big John should make a team. As Jake struggled to free the last snap, Maureen twisted her shoulder to give his fingers room.
"Oh, Lordy, that is just beautiful." He scrabbled around her body and threw a leg across her slim waist, straddling her on his knees, staring down at the vision of woman perfection.
"Beat me with it, Jake! Smack my breasts with your cock. Hard as you want!" She was dying to beg him to let her out from .under the fabric so she could watch, but now a new plan was needling that involved another shy one.
Her protector, Big John, was crouched close to the tiny opening in the drape and she was sure he was beating off while he stared. It was an impossible waste in both men. Jake's obeying her order to flail at her breasts with his organ would come to a masturbated ending in no time. With the kind of excitement Jake was already putting into his whacking at her, he was bound to ejaculate quickly.
"Wait!" she moaned the plea and Jake froze rigid, staring down at the voluptuary whose face and throat were still shrouded under the dress. "I know someone who would help us have a wonderful threesome!"
"What do you mean?" Jake's voice was brittle with tension, sure she was going to bring her damned husband into it. The whole thing could be that kind of a set-up.
"I know a just wonderful man who's here tonight. I'd love to have him trying me where he thinks he can't fit, while you do me upstairs."
"Don't understand you." Jake's voice cracked with nervousness.
"Big John." Maureen's voice rose a decibel higher. "I want Big John to get over one of his dumb old scares, same time you do."
There was an audible shuffling in the passage-way beyond the mirror and Maureen waited breathlessly in the electric silence of the bedroom. Neither Jake nor Big John spoke, but neither one of them protested either. It was about to happen.
Outside on the stairs leading to the second floor, three waitresses, done with their evening's service, were, at the very moment Big John exited the passageway, about to turn the corner of the stairwell. Milly pushed back in surprise to keep the others from coming on when she saw a hulking form close what she thought was an unused hall closet door. "Big John!" she whispered in disbelief. "He just walked out of a closet!"
DeeDee's flame-red hair bounced as she exchanged glances with dark-skinned Priscilla. They waited till Milly beckoned. The three hurried to the door and an instant later one of Jake's best kept secrets was out.
"That rat!" hissed Priscilla. "Now I know why he gives us 1-A and 2-A for most of the weeknights. He listens through the walls!"
"Shhhh!" Milly led them toward the faint crack of light where there was visibility into the bedroom through the drape.
"I do not believe it!" Pris gaped at the sight of Jake mounted across the midriff of a fantastically stacked female. "What's... who's that?"
Under her voluntary prison of gold cloth, Maureen squirmed to the less animated tidy-whipping of Jake, then heard the sound of a door opening. It must be Big John.
Whether Jake knew or didn't know of his arrival was of no concern to the burly trucker. Summoning one last bit of courage to act on her taunt, he strode purposefully to the woman on the bed, ignoring Jake's protest as he bent to finger the dress zipper. "Ya damn fool!" he snorted. An instant later Maureen was free of her trap, seeing again and being seen, a dazzling nude outspread in tantalizing female splendor to the hot stares of two men. Three stunned girls gaped from behind the mirror.
"Too much!" whispered DeeDee, arms wrapped tightly around Milly as she molded to her back and stared over her shoulder at the spectacle. "I am not even going to guess where a certain husband is."
"Look! Big John is stripping."
He was a modern Goliath, thought an awed Maureen, staring up at the man as he peeled his tee-shirt. When he kicked free of his jockeys and straightened, she hoped her lust was less transparent than it felt. His phallus was a top-heavy club of manpower, its darkened knob so wild with desire it climbed high in defiance of gravity and his own gutlessness. Her guess at dimensions had been conservative. Big John had all of twelve inches and looking down at her he was a mass of uncertainty.
As if to stall the moment of truth he turned on his heel to stride to the drape covering the great mirror beside the bed. "You want to see what you're askin' for, you better see it from all directions." He dragged the pull cord and three startled female voyeurs cringed against each other at what felt like sudden transfer to the bedroom. A full window had been opened for them with the flinging wide of the drape and the three were hushed to silence by the sensation that they actually were in bed with the two men and Maureen.
"Big John is going to do what he thinks he can't down below, while you do what feels good up there." Maureen was a possessed woman as she saw the might of john from two angles--where he stood beside the bed and his body profile reflected in the mirror. She saw his eyes travel to her lower body and she writhed in bold invitation, legs widespread, golden glorious thighs forming the apex of the triangle of her want.
Jake, still mounted atop her waist, seemed to find courage in the arrival of another male as uncertain in sex as he was himself. "Gonna beat her tits right off her front, John," he chortled, whacking at the thrusting mounds with a new boldness. "That's what she likes."
"She likes something else more," cooed Maureen. "Make a booby tunnel and let me feel it like I'm gonna feel John down where he belongs. Go, John... I want you in me same time!"
He crept between the widespread wonder of her legs, staring zombielike at the ultimate target. Kneeing forward, he reached under her buttocks and, cupping her ass cheeks, slithered as close to her crotch as he could, her legs bending wide to either side of his thighs as he edged closer and closer.
"That thing will split her in ten pieces." DeeDee's voice was an awed whisper. "Why is she beggin' for that kinda murder?"
"He'll never try. She knows it," Milly snipped cattily. "She's just getting kicks from two kinks."
"Please, Big John... try... just the tippy end, even," moaned Maureen. "Slide it through my teensy crack and watch what happens."
Jake was already hovering across her upper body, back arched to position his, arrowlike phallus on a plane with her boob cleavage. She clutched her breasts and pressed them together as a tight tunnel for his prick. Jake shoved it in. Sheer magic! He was instantly caught in a helpless pelvic thrusting, his cock urging deeply into the handmade boob cunt and ramrodding happily in the newfound playpen. His eyes danced with incredible joy and Maureen felt the turgid stiffness of his barrel begin to tremble and pulse. "You're going, Jake... go... go... GO!"
Head thrown back to absorb the violence of the orgasm claiming him, Jake pumped a frenzied ejaculation through the buttermilk wonder of the sweet boob trap. His cannonade was a warm, spurting barrage, rat-a-tatting into the cleavage, then springing free to rain semen across her face.
"Look at her!" hissed the redhead in the dark passage. "She's gettin' it off right this minute to Jake's gism!"
And she was.. Wild droplets flying freely as his cock leaped from captivity took Maureen across the front of her face and throat and breasts. Just enough hit the hypersexed places to drive her into her own spontaneous climax. Little rapture cries spilled from her lips and Jake rolled to the side to watch the frenzied contortions of her possessed body.
Wide hips were in writhing mania to the ecstasy tearing at every erogenous corner. Big John caught her just in time to keep her from rolling free of his clasp in unhinged desire. His great paws, clamped to her hips, seemed to drag her back to the reality close by and she reached imploring arms to the powerful man. So close, so far. "Take me, John! Please, take me!" Her hand pulled frantically at his shoulders, then dropped to her crotch. "Look! Oh, John you've got to look. Do you hate what you see?"
He gawked like an awkward adolescent at the mysterious place he never had seen so openly displayed. Exquisite fingers were at the dark wavery line of her labia and she splayed the tender pussy flesh wide to his viewing. He looked ,past the labia, wide-stretched by her fingers, into the heart of a sunshine-pink cunt threshold. The taut almond shape of her clitty was dramatically visible and Big John reached. His finger tip touched lightly at the tip of the clit and she moaned in passionate madness: "Take me... take me with yours, John."
He urged forward slightly and his hand pressed the knobby cap of his bludgeon against dainty, baby-soft cunt flesh. Her fingers were ruthless in spreading the vulva to his invasion. She wanted him to know how far her tantalizing cunt-lips would open and she had picked the direct route to prove it.
The cock crown urged against the yielding flesh and Big John urged forward simultaneously. "Ahhhh... yahhh... oh, yeah... it's... it's in!"
And it was.
A spellbound trio of waitresses gaped at the sight of Maureen's pussy cleft stretched wide for the stupendous organ. Its breadth seemed much more than the oval that admitted it, and Big John's eyes, dilated with fear that he might at any second hear her scream, stared unseeing at the great mirror.
"He looks like he's out of this world," whispered Priscilla. "I've never seen it really happen up this close."
"Hurtin' ya?" gasped John, staring at the incredible female beneath him. "Tell me, does it hurt?"
"No... John... no! Oh, man, you have got to give me all you have... now, John, NOW!"
It was the encouragement he needed, and, tightening his clasp on the sleek roll of her hips, he dragged her more and more onto his phallic spear. She wriggled and strained, her body an intriguing harmony of crests and valleys totally surrendered to the male driving into her passion pit. Animal beautiful in the superb toning of each body, they held their audience entranced as they pulsed in mounting urgency. Big John's shaft moving millimeter by millimeter slowly into Maureen's welcoming vagina gave warnings of his orgasm building and he steeled himself against it. He wanted to be deep in this luscious girl before he shot.
Their eyes met and Maureen's smile sparkled with encouragement for his first venture with a female in years. '"You're a devil!" she groaned. "You won't give me all of it. I want all of it!"
"Gonna!" He ground forward and the gleaming shaft went still farther from sight. Again the short thrusts and the pause. And again the long thrust.
"He's got to be hurting her," worried DeeDee in an agony of wanting to fondle the girl who was doing what she and the others had always wanted to do for Big John. "Let's go in to them."
"No way!" Milly guided DeeDee's hand back to her breast and the redhead contented herself strumming her best friend's boobs as she watched the action reach for peak. "Look at him... he's losing control."
Big John's back stiffened and he rose almost to his knees, his hands clamped to the curve of Maureen's ass cheeks, his prick stuffed to its full extremity deep in the overjoyed vagina. Maureen's scream of orgasm-run-wild bounced from the walls of the room and echoed into the passage. Beyond in 2-A Derek stirred wakefully, then sat bolt upright to the faraway sound. A second later he sagged back against the mattress. Not a chance in the world that squeal could have been Maureen. But it had that familiar desperation he knew. Couldn't be his wife. No way. He lay wide awake, listening, hearing only silence.
For gasping seconds the two playmates were lost to any world but their own. Their cum paralysis was a fantastic tableau of stop action. Their bodies were in suspended animation as their crises took them simultaneously, only the quivering where cock locked to cunt telling their viewers that Maureen and John were not statues. As the last of his flood passed, he wilted to her side, still buried to the hilt, his outsized phallus in total, unyielding erection.
When she squirmed to nuzzle closer to his frame, Big John thought she wanted to disengage and he uncoiled slightly to let the cock spring free.
"No... nuh, no... please stay!"
He relaxed in the warm magic of her arms and legs and felt the lush ripeness of her torso press happily against his. "You are so good, Big John," she murmured. "And you still are as hard as a rock."
"Know it." He ground a confident thrust against her mons and nibbled contentedly at her earlobe. "I don't know where you put all of me in that little place down there."
"All of you is starting to get busy again." She wriggled in welcome of the new want. This time the pressure to climax was too much for Big John to fight orgasm. He tried, but Maureen was snatched by her own orgasm. It was one triggering the other and for delirious moments they rocked in happy abandon to mingled rapture.
"Wow," growled John. "That is some wild feeling, Mrs. DeMours."
"Ooohhh... I like that." Maureen pushed impudently against the deeply crammed muscle.. "So you like to spoil married women for their husbands, don't your' "I do now," he agreed. "But I got bad news, ma'am. You might not ever seen your husband again."
"Why ever not?"
"I think I'm permanently attached." He ground to-and-fro in short thrusting urgency and Maureen's happy exclamation stopped the little panic mounting inside.
"What a perfect chance!" she exclaimed, feeling his fear, sensing the potential collapse of Big John's fantastic advance to normal sex. "I always have wanted a man big enough and far enough in me to do it. Will you... will you please walk me while we do it?"
"Aw, hey! Come on!" His protest was pure phony. If Maureen was inventing, Big John wasn't. In another of his lonely highway fantasies he had many times visualized himself in just this beautiful predicament. Stuck! Hung-up and unable to extricate his great cock from the gorgeous playmate attached to its massiveness.
"Take me for a walk, John. Let's see if you can hold off till you... till you take us to the mirror " An incredulous waitress trio saw the happy-go-lucky expression on the man' they long ago had dismissed as hopeless. This huge hunk of male potency always had enjoyed himself in the dining room ogling their pretty breasts and politely conversing with super shyness. And they knew what he did in the loneliness of the bridal suite where any one of them would have gone with him on invitation. Now, thanks to this total stranger, he was liberated male and soon to be fair game for the three of them.
"You have to help, Jake," panted Maureen as John slid from the bed and staggered to full height with his delicate bundle of fuckable female. "I am for sure going to bang my head on something, the way he's stumbling around. Ohhh... damn... Juh John! Jake! He's makin' me come again... help!"
Fantastic sight from the other side of the mirror. Broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped six-foot-seven John standing full height and turned toward the mirror. Attached to his stallion cock was a cock-crazed package of luscious nude female.
Maureen's orgasm eased and she rocked back and away from John's chest, falling back into Jake's arms just as he got behind her. "Let me all the way down," she pleaded. "I want to watch him walk me."
Jake eased her downward till her body was on full display from its attachment to Big John's cock. Electrifying! A muscled male with two inches of the root of his buried cock visible wasn't even supporting her as she hung. His prick was the hinge. Only her legs, scissored behind at his waist to lock at the small of his back, held her. She draped wantonly and happily away, her breasts jutting like pointed exclamations to the mobile copulation.
"Now, help me up, Jake. Only part way." Graceful arms laced out to reach for the second target she needed, her fingers circled the thick, steel-like barrel of his prick as his arms went under her shoulders to hoist.
"Oohhh... I love... I love," she cooed when he had her hip high. Her lips were on a plane with the frenzied cock in her clasp. She guided it directly to her mouth and squirmed impatiently against Big John's organ as she pressed a lush kiss to Jake's glans. "John, let's all come. Three ways at once."
Three girls, clutching each other in sheer delighted envy at the spectacle, gaped in awe. Jake's prick was lip-lodged in Maureen's mouth and she tortured the man with lush, juicy tonguing sounds and drove the sensories under the wide ledge of his prick totally insane. Then the need for more of him took her and she admitted, inch by eager inch, the arrowlike shaft. "It must be in her throat," whispered DeeDee, her body trembling against Milly's in the excitement of seeing one woman take two males.
Like dominoes, the three orgasms charged, one triggering the other and the three collapsing in a gasping, tumbling pile of ecstasy. And, as suddenly as the finale began, it had passed. She lay passionate beauty, arms wide flung, breasts heaving slightly, her glorious legs widespread, visibly there on the bright crimson carpeting, a thing of too spent to move.
"You both were out of this world," she murmured, pressing fingers to her lips and throwing a tiny kiss to them. "Now little Maureen is pooped. Would you tuck me in bed, dear ones?"
Big John collected her in his arms, as if she were a nothing weight, and started for the great bed.
"You make me feel light as a leaf off a tree."
"You're even lighter," he said softly, bending to deposit her on the satin sheets.
"Do you think I'm a fallen leaf, Big John?"
He leaned to kiss her lightly on the lips. "How can someone who gives a man his life be fallen?
Thank you, Mrs. DeMours. I'll kill. the first slob who says you're anything but a lady."
A moment later the room darkened as the door closed behind the departure of Jake and John. Neither spoke. Neither even looked toward the passage door behind which three girls cringed breathlessly.
* * *
"We let her sleep," insisted Milly as the three tiptoed from the no-longer-secret passageway.
"But first we have to visit," whispered red-haired DeeDee, clutching her arms across a trembling front, still seeing the way Maureen looked taking two at once.
"Let me go back and peek at her husband," Priscilla interrupted. "Maybe he's awake."
"Forget him. He's just a tail-pinching joke."
"But I want to."
Two moved in barefooted silence toward 1-A and Priscilla tiptoed toward 2-A. On her last look through the other mirror, Maureen's husband appeared to be sleeping fitfully. He was a curiosity Prissy had to solve.
Not just curiosity about the fight between newlyweds, but her curiosity about the extremely pale skin of this Derek DeMours. He must be in office work. He was tantalizingly whiter than the daily diet of deeply tanned truckers she saw. Against her better judgment she headed for the door of 2-A. The need to know was overwhelming. Was his love organ as ivory-white as his face and arms? In the hall light Prissy glanced down at her ebony breasts and wondered how an angry bride-groom would react to a beautiful black in bed with him. Prissy eased the door open. She had to find out...
CHAPTER FOUR
A wakeful Derek lay in the loneliness of 2-A. To be in what Murphy's called its Bridal Suite, made the frustrations incredibly worse. He hadn't been pooped a damned bit, as he had told Maureen. He had been testing. He hadn't meant a single, stupid word about making love a time or two a week, now that they were married. He was testing her again.
His thoughts had been on a merry-go-round from the time he came across the two trucker dudes helping his wife change the Merc tire. The more he mulled it after getting back on the highway and seeing her whistle off ahead of his U-Haul, the more he felt suspicion building.
When they rendezvoused at the entry to Murphy's, the first thing he'd noticed was the messed-up state of his wife. Maureen's hair was tumbled across her shoulders. She had scratches on her arms and her Wraparound looked as if something or someone had dragged her like a sack of potatoes. Derek's suspicions shot even higher. She could well have been in the bushes with some trucker. While she waited for him to tool down the highway she might have torn off a piece.
At supper his mind had been loaded with his doubts about his bride. It seemed incomprehensible, but it could be that the scene he made about her love of oral sex on their wedding night had turned her off. He hadn't used his brains, he accused himself, lying in the semi-darkness of the Bridal Suite, reviewing how he had lectured at her on the oral bit once he saw how she loved to suck, as well as fuck.
He remembered the way the truckers had cased them as they sat in the restaurant. Made him so damned mad, wondering if one of them--or was it more than one?--had gotten into her. Then those sexy, topless jobs waiting on table. The beautiful black girl with the wonderful eyes and the high-flung breasts really turned him on, even sitting across from Maureen. And then the way the attention of the males seemed to bypass the sexy waitresses and focus on their table. On his wife!
It was dumb of him to have patted the ass of the girl serving their table. He'd acted on impulse, wanting to divert attention from his wife and he damned well had. Almost got his butt kicked out of the place. He had to top it off with the bullshit about open marriage. That was his prize contribution to an evening heading toward disaster. She rewarded him. She had walked out of their bedroom and for all he knew at the moment, straight out of his life.
Lying in the silence, he had heard that faraway scream. If it wasn't the sound of his wife in orgasm, it was someone who sounded just like her. And it was damned hard to blame her, if she was playing with someone. He had come on like a chump.
He went rigid at the soft sound across the room. Someone was at the door. Could it be Maureen coming back? Whoever it was, was hesitating. Uncertain. That would hardly be someone trying to rip off the room. Faking sleep, Derek lay unmoving and watching through lowered lids. He caught the faint fragrance of perfume as the silhouette slipped through the door. Female. But not Maureen.
Every perfume she wore he had given her and personally chosen. This was a new odor. Softly sexy. He made the oddball mental note to try to locate that smell for Maureen. And that almost gave away his wakeful state as he stirred to the turn-on of the perfume.
Priscilla froze at the sign of a movement on the bed. She watched for a nerve-wracked minute, her eyes getting used to the near darkness. She could make out the lines of Derek's body under the sheet and her heart raced at the sight of the tenting of the satin. He was wearing a hard-on!
A tumble of confusion ripped at Priscilla. He could be awake. And why would he be turned on by nothing at all when he didn't turn on to his own curvaceous, man-hungry wife? The beautiful black girl was frightened by what she had dared, but the sight 'of that sheet trembling to the rampant cock beneath it left the highly sexed Prissy with no choice but to try.
It was a time for boldness. Courage high, she moved with quiet determination to the edge of the bed, stood staring for an instant, then slid a knee carefully onto the mattress. That was the instant of discovery for Derek. He had been intrigued in the dining room with the extremely high thrust of the full breasts of the black girl. With the visible difference between the waitress Milly, whose nipples went flat in her anger at him, Derek remembered the tireless erection of Priscilla's bold cherries. Once, as she walked by their table carrying a tray, he had seen an unusually long black lock of hair drift casually across one breast. Apparently the tease of her hair on the stiffened nipple had been too arousing, for when she put the tray down, the first thing she did was to toss the arrant strands impatiently back across her shoulder.
But for some reason she had dared to come into his bedroom. As far as Derek knew, she didn't even know he existed. Except that the waitress he'd insulted by the pat on the rear probably told her and the others. It hadn't stopped this fabulously stacked girl from coming to him. In fact, it may have been the reason. He was ready for most anything to get his mind away from the disaster of his marriage.
Prissy slid the sheet carefully down Derek's front, the satin torturing the flame-heated glans that ramrodded stiffly from his groin. He heard her catch her breath at what she had exposed and he chanced sounding phony when he let a little snore slip from his lips. It was the reassurance Prissy needed. There in the half-light, Derek's body looked milk white, like a figure of Adonis in ivory. And like a gleaming snow-white candle, his phallus soared in the darkness, a lonely sentinel of one man's intense want.
A sixth sense told Priscilla Jordan she needn't really be careful. She could sing and dance on his bed and wake him, if she wanted, and he still would be compelled by his want to stick that white porcelain pole into her dark and tawny body. A quiver of uncontrollable desire raced through her sizzling contours, forcing her to pause at the very second she was going to straddle him. She stretched to relieve the nervousness that was charging wildly through her. Derek watched, awed. Priscilla's graceful arms reached high and her head rocked far back. Her trembling muscles moved in unplanned sensuality that whipped the man before her to a frenzy of fuck desire.
He was on fire for a female of a different race. That was as common as every day for some men. For Derek it was a first time. Eyes shadowed by the light cast by an outdoor neon, he could stare and not give away that he was awake. He drank in the slim-bodied, almost fragile nature of her frame. The lithe figure wore the proof of her femininity proudly as she bent still farther back, stretching taut and tapered muscles, throwing bold breasts and prominent love mound into brazen relief. The neon glow caught the black satin of her flesh in boobs and rubes and highlighted her magnetism. Derek fought the mania to grab the wonder of the girl onto his inflamed prick. He fought the want and waited for her to move.
"Love you, mister ivory," Prissy murmured, bending across his thighs. "You are going to be my vanilla ice cream cone."
Her head was profiled to him as she tongued lightly at the tip of his erection as if taste testing. The violence of his turnabout in sexual want toward this woman stormed briefly at Derek. Where he had been revolted by Maureen's wanting to practice fellatio on him, even ordered her to forget that as a depraved kind of sex, now, with this sensuous black mouth trembling its want against his cock crown, he was wild for oral play.
Was it that she was black? In the on-again/off-again light from the window her seethingly sexual body was like dark velvet and his erection was a bright white neon shaft sticking up past her cheek. She nibbled at the root of his cock, following the thick funnel up the dorsal side of the barrel while her fingertips traced the protruding vein along the top.
"Fuck into a dark cave, mister ivory," she whispered hotly against the tortured fullness of his cock crown. "I want to see you go in my mouth." The table light glared brightly suddenly.
Clearly his intruder was committed and Derek was just as committed to faking sleep for as long as he could. It was a fantastic assault on a lifetime attitude against mixed sex... against oral sex... and for some reason he couldn't understand, Derek also was fighting a fidelity battle. Why the hell Maureen should enter his mind, he couldn't figure, but give the girl between his legs white skin and longer breasts and she could almost be his wife.
Her moist warm lips were sheer poetry in motion as Prissy engulfed the swollen cone of Derek's cock. Through barely opened eyes he could see the total preoccupation of his seductress with her toy. Dark eyes danced happily as she mouthed the corona, then accepted two inches of the shaft to complete the length of love organ she wanted to deal with. Saliva whirlpooled lushly around the indriven organ and her tongue was a torturing snake along the wide ledge and across the sensitized underglans.
His hands would not lie quiet longer. The madness she had built in his loins in the first seconds of sucking demanded expression. His arms swept to clutch at her shoulders. For, one heart-stopping second Priscilla waited for the blow that would declare her unwanted. It never came.
She burrowed brazen wild against the swollen prick. The reflection of the bed action made an inflaming mural in the wall mirror and Derek gaped from the dark shapeliness writhing across his lower body to the bold spectacle mirrored in the glass. It was like seeing himself getting it simultaneously from two people. "Ahhh... yes! Oh, sweet criminy... suck me!"
His hands roamed caressingly across the silken perfection of Prissy's back, fondling across her smooth hip line, tracking the curve of her ass cheek as she siphoned with a thirst that demanded more and more. His curiosity went to the juncture of her thighs. The instant his fingers prowled through the labia into her cunty center, Prissy began to moan--a low-throated sound muffled by the phallus plowing into her lips, but a clue to her wanting.
Suddenly the climax grabbed deep in his groin and he began a helpless pelvic humping at the magic lips. A longtime freeze in Derek was blowing wild. He had found suck sex frenzy. The ejaculation charged deep into her mouth, drooling happily to her throat. It was the thought of that which had always turned him off on oral sex. Somehow cum spurting into a mouth had seemed unclean. How he knew what he never had understood before--not with Maureen and not with others before her who had wanted to suck him. It just felt right! This intruder from another race had crept into his bed and made it right. He was a fellatio freak. "Thanks!" he gasped, making no move to withdraw.
She was lip-locked to the slightly softened prick and was not about to release her prisoner. Her gorgeous body was deliciously contorted and he was able to see her face staring at the mirror. He also saw most of the rest of the succulent curves. Her straining torso, her lovely legs and arms were flung across him as she locked into his orgasm with her own.
Her lower body was just a breath away. He tugged at the sleek curve of her hip till she rolled to expose the mystery down low. For tentative moments Derek simply caressed Prissy's hip line, following the smooth flow of her loins to the rise of her pubes. He had to see, remembering a guilt that he never had fingered Maureen's cunty flesh so boldly as now he did Priscilla's. The peach-pink tenderness of the sex center just under the vulva lips was a breathtaking magnet. It seemed to Derek a kind of micro-mini volcano center as he gawked at her baby-soft pussy darkening from peach-pink to deep crimson in anticipation. Visible trembling of the love flesh; he fingered open the outer lips still wider to expose the taut clitoris. Shrouded under a thin shield of stretched cunt flesh, the distended clit pulsed in readiness. Derek never had felt the grab of a need to love a woman's play center as he did now. "Mini cock," he murmured. "Trying to get out from under and climb like a man's."
A shudder traveled Prissy's body at the softness of his voice. She had heard nothing from the moment she entered his bedroom till the instant he shot into her mouth. And that was an inarticulate nothing. Now he had spoken and his words were tender and loving. She watched him bend across dragged the flaccid cock from the trap of her hip and. the twisting of his body almost mouth. She tightened the lip vise. Her arms circled his tail to snug his loins against her face, while she watched what he would try next. Maybe it was over. Maybe that was the turn-off with his wife and he was all words and no action.
His tongue stabbed that notion to oblivion. Deep and possessive, stiff and curious, he snaked into her vagina, licking across yielding passion flesh till he found the clitty. Fighting the want to scream her joy, Priscilla felt the thickening of the flesh between her lips. Her playmate's response to cunnilingus was showing itself, stiffening, lengthening, once again filling her mouth with hardened cock.
It was a spectacle in two-way mouth madness as Derek's need for tender savagery with Prissy's cunt was met by her own need to drink more of his cum. They milked and munched and siphoned on each other in a writhing, possessed ball of flesh, black on white and white on black. Intermittently spent by the ferocity of the want, one or the other paused for breath to study the suck spectacle in the great wall mirror. It was jungle wild with runaway desire. And it was a building crescendo, broken suddenly by Prissy's climax cry. "I... eeehhh... Yes, YES!" Her orgasm-ridden scream burst freely as she spewed a brimming prick from her lips to vent her ecstasy. And it was a transformed Derek who grabbed his sopping organ just as his ejaculation surged and jammed it back into the dark loveliness of her. In fantastic running climaxes, one toppling across the other, both locked and trembling as their high points merged, Derek and Prissy rocked in rapture.
When the crests had passed, they lay as the joy left them, sprawled, helplessly interwoven in an enticing display of bodies beautiful. It occurred to Priscilla that almost anyone might have been watching from beyond that mirror... Big John or Jake, or her roommates, Milly and DeeDee.
"How'd you know I was alone?"
"Your wife told me." Prissy toyed aimlessly with the limp penis resting across her palm.
"So? Y'know, I almost believe you. Which one of them is she shacked up with?"
"Them?"
"Which trucker is she with? I heard her squeal and she wasn't that far away."
An impudent giggle tickled against his groin. It was not what Derek needed as he came down to earth from the wild flight to orgasm spaces. "You think that's funny?"
"I think you're funny," murmured the sultry voice against his gut. "Your wife is with my roommates."
"You're lyin'."
The party felt over. Priscilla pushed slowly to her palms and stared up the front of the man she now felt aware of as very much a whitey honk. She could understand the communications break-down that must have fouled up the early marriage of these two, if he could turn that easily insulting to a near-total stranger. All the tenderness in him and from her to him melted as she shifted from his naked body, to slide toward the edge of the bed. There she sat for a long, quiet moment, debating whether to tell him to go to hell or show him something of what he was about to lose. "You want to see where your wife is?"
His eyes glittered suspiciously as he moved a leg over the bed and trailed her toward the door. She was going nude out into the hallway. "You crazy?" He grabbed for his slacks. "Someone could see you like that!"
"Ooohhhh, I really do hope they do." She pirouetted insolently before him as he stumbled into the pants. "Don't you think they might like me this way? Lots of men do. And I love gettin' it in the hall."
He followed her out of 2-A, bumping her shoulder when she turned abruptly into the hall closet right beside the room. "Hey... what the...?"
"Shhh! You say one word and you spoil everything."
They tiptoed along the soft runner rug, moving toward the wide expanse of light flowing into the passage from both 1-A and 2-A. The epithet reached his, lips but choked off before he let it fly. One-way mirrors! The house had its own sex gallery made to order.
An inarticulate croak of sheer disbelief reached Priscilla and she caught his wrist to squeeze him to silence as they saw the three on the huge bed in Room 1-A. His wife... with two other females! His chest pumped furiously at the sight and the blood charged hotly to his groin, driving his penis to unexpected, unwanted hardness. He was seeing what he had always condemned as unthinkable--girls enjoying girl bodies!
* * *
When DeeDee and Milly slipped into the Anniversary Suite, Maureen's sleep was no put-on. The door had closed behind Take and Big John and she barely heard it. Billowy white and softly languorous, the clouds rolled in through her thoughts. She felt herself drifting lightly through time and space, body tingling in the aftermath of potent male play, the sensual pinpricks growing more and more distant. Alone in the happy euphoria of not caring who she was or where she was or why, Maureen lay sleeping in innocent, unpretending nudity when the door opened.
"She is just simply precious!" whispered Milly as the pair crept to the side of the bed. "She looks like an angel."
"And angel who's been had by two tigers." DeeDee shuddered at the sight of the light scrape mark on Maureen's arm. "Do you think one of them did that to her?"
Milly crept across the mattress edge and leaned close to the scratch the shrubs had made earlier on Maureen's upper arm. A tumble of red hair drifted to obscure the want in Milly's eyes as she looked from the scratch to the sunburst beauty of Maureen's breasts. "I'm not sure what did it, DeeDee. We better make it all better." She puckered a light kiss to the scratch mark, then shifted her attention lower on Maureen's body. "This, I'm sure, those two animals did to her." She pointed to a light puffiness around the dark, wavery cunt line. "You know Big John must have hurt going in. Look how he did her pussy petals!"
"He can hurt me like that any time," DeeDee murmured, stroking her best friend's hip and wishing they hadn't come in. There was a passion in Milly for this stranger that DeeDee never had seen her show anyone except herself. It was as if she was helping in the spoiling of her own playtime to be here with Milly and she wished they could leave. "She's sound asleep. Let's come back later."
"Uhunnnhh! I want to cuddle with you and with her real close till she wakes. Please, DeeDee." Milly's eyes had desperation appeal as she stretched to kiss her friend. "When she wakes, she's going to need some tender lovin'. to make her better. You cuddle her back and I'll cuddle her front."
A resigned DeeDee coiled against the warmth of Maureen's ass cheeks and squirmed close to wrap herself against the succulent curves of sleek Jack and shoulders. Her nipples. went taut against the softness of Maureen's brunette tresses and she brushed them aside, her nipples stiffening even more to the satiny friction of buttermilk flesh. Suddenly DeeDee was turned on, wanting this newcomer to wake so they both could explore her.
If DeeDee wanted, Milly was beside herself needing. Her body bent to contour to the shapely curvaceousness of Maureen's front: It was a maddening turn-on to look into the childlike beauty of that face, so restful in sleep, then to look down the front of an utterly intoxicating mature female bod. A little more... there! Milly had her outspoken breasts in light contact with Maureen's. Nipple matched nipple and now, even in her sleep, Maureen's were stiffening and standing, almost touching DeeDee's. Deliberately DeeDee edged nearer and the abrupt meeting of the sensitive cones sent erotic lightning sizzling through the redhead.
"Mmmmhhh." Maureen stirred lightly and her arm drifted across DeeDee's waist.
"She's really asleep!" hissed Derek to Priscilla as the two crouched, peering through the mirror.
"And you thought she was lesbian," taunted Priscilla softly. "Would that be terrible, to be bisexed?"
"Hell... she couldn't --" He started to turn away.
"Watch." Prissy stabbed a finger in his ribs to force him back to the window. "She's waking."
"I am DeeDee," whispered the voice over Maureen's shoulder, and as she said it, tender fingers stroked lightly along the undercurve of her breast. "She is Milly. You remember Milly?"
Maureen didn't reply, but just stared from the slightly frightened face of the girl who had been her waitress hours earlier, down to where a tumble of flame-red lay curled between their breasts. Very slowly she drew the crimson hair aside and looked quietly at the way Milly had snuggled close during her sleep. Both sets of nipples were rigid nubbins aimed at each other and terribly aroused by the proximity.
"We want to get to know anyone who can turn a restaurant upside down in one hour," murmured Milly, drawing her shoulders back just enough to drive her boobs forward and mash the nipples against Maureen's. A gasp broke from Maureen and said what words couldn't. She liked the feel of another woman!
"Mmmhhh!" DeeDee wriggled sensuously against Maureen's back and her arms circled the taut body, fingers fondling lightly along the fullness of the breasts, aiming a tumid nipple back against Milly's when it slipped from contact. "We want to get to know everything about you. And we hope maybe you might like to get to know things about us. 'Course, you know when you came in this place you put aside any old hang-ups you brought with you... "
"Yes, I ... . but... " Maureen fell silent as she savored the fantastic magnetism of the pair trapping her on either side. Had they barged in to let her know she was accepted? Or was it the exact opposite? Maybe they were here to get her out of Murphy's the shortest and most direct way.
Milly's face was inches away from her own and Maureen made a fleeting study of the loveliness that might mask a lethal female. Anyone who served as topless waitress to truckers had to be pretty self-reliant. Even more than that. A girl as super-stacked as Milly, with sweetly feminine but very tough musculature, could take care of herself. It sent a chill and a new want through Maureen. What would it be like to sexually conquer Milly? Or DeeDee?
"You know I run this place." Milly said it with low-keyed matter-of-factness. "My two best friends are as jealous as I am of your body. We probably hate you for turning Big John on before we could... but we love you for doing it. He's ours now."
"How did you...?"
Maureen's head twisted suddenly toward the great mirror at the side of the bed and behind the glass Derek felt wild shock as she seemed to look directly at him. "You know about Jake then, too."
Milly smiled and looked over Maureen's shoulder at DeeDee. "Do you think we should let her become an honorary member of our all-girl club? No men allowed."
"I like that," Maureen exclaimed, not waiting for DeeDee. "What do I do?"
"We do. We have to initiate you."
She waved DeeDee on the errand. "Go! You know what. In the medicine cabinet."
Platinum blond hair tossed impatiently as Dee-Dee bounced from the bed to obey the order. A moment later she was back in the bedroom with a collection of small transparent vials filled with ruby and amber and gold colors. Across her arm was a towel and Maureen stared, fascinated by the exaggerated hip swagger and bold confidence in DeeDee as she handed the mystery elements to Milly. Clearly the two of them believed they had little Maureen well in hand.
It was silent in the bedroom as the king-size pillows were piled in the center of the bed. Without a word Milly and DeeDee drew Maureen across the top pillow, spread-eagling her tenderly to their inspection. There was erotic electricity between the three as, totally charged, Maureen felt the full impact of her vulnerability. No escaping that the lesbian heat of Milly, and DeeDee was in command in just the seconds she lay before them on naked display. She was conscious of the tingling in her breasts and her vagina and knew her nipples must be advertising the state of her emotions.
"We have come to anoint you, new friend," whispered a distant voice. Out of the corner of her eye Maureen saw the vial of amber liquid in Milly's hand the ruby vial in DeeDee's. One following the other, they poured the soothing fluid across her breasts, her midriff and her lower body--only tiny drop of the fragrant substances, but it had a special potency, the electricity in the room deepening with each application.
"You are very beautiful, Maureen DeMours," whispered a low voice. "Would you like your husband to be present for your initiation?"
Beyond the mirror, Derek listened tensely as Maureen seemed to have trouble absorbing the question. "I love my man," she murmured. "He is in love with me, I think... but no! I couldn't stand to have him here. He would be big and hard, demanding to put his thing in me. I want something soft and tender."
She looked in the direction of the mirror and Derek flinched at the visible passion in his wife's expression. Maureen was a woman possessed with a very special need, and that need was not for him. As if she felt the crushing of a male ego, Priscilla's arms circled Derek's powerful frame from the back and her fingers interlaced across his tense gut, trapping a cock that reared angrily from the offended Derek's groin.
"It is my task to waken the nerves our oils have stirred in you." Milly brushed a long egret feather across turgid nipples and Maureen's eyes widened in excitement to the sensual torture. Her fingers clutched at the milk-white fullness of her breasts, pushing them toward the torment of the feather. "Ooohhh ... . I can't stand much more!" she moaned when the tormenting feather brushed lightly across her vulva, to-and-fro in a maddening rhythm, then moved to the hypersensitized cunty cleft and doodled along passion-lips parted with excitement.
"I... I'm guh... going to come!" she stammered, her voice rising to near hysteria as she felt warm lips take the place of the tantalizing feather to press boldly against the soft flesh of her labia.
"Let go come." cooed Milly, pushing into the hollowing of Maureen's tummy. Impatiently she nudged DeeDee and suddenly Maureen was feeling another mouth urgent against her tender pussy lips. All about her she was conscious of eyes watching... sparkling and happy and wanting as they stared at her mounting passion... waiting for the inevitable. She didn't know she felt it, but she was sure there had to be an audience of more than these two... some sixth sense said she was being watched by a man. It was a delicious longtime yearning that had needled deep in her vagina to have a male watching while she came solo. Dreaming it or not, the odd feeling mounted even as her lust for the passionate pair at her crotch mounted. A man was watching, she could feel his presence. But who?
"Look!" She screamed the word at the mirror, thinking it could well be that Jake and Big John had retreated there after leaving the play with her. "Look at me! John! Jake! I... I'm coming!"
Derek gawked helplessly from a point not six feet from where his wife lay embraced by the superbly stacked pair of wild nudes. What did she call those names for? Milly and DeeDee were vying in what had to be the most luscious wrestling match ever staged for possession of another girl's sex center. All through the delicious torture of sampling kisses ''and probing tongues pressed unashamedly into her most intimate place, Maureen was whipped by the newest frenzy in her sex life. Never aware that other girls could in-flame her so, she was now a convert to bisexuality. It happened that fast and she knew she was hooked.
"Ooohhh... yesss!" Suddenly frantic for expression for her new feelings and hoping, too, that men were watching, she flailed at the hands clasping and clutching at her body. "Look! Look at me!"
Startled, Milly and DeeDee rolled from the flailing arms and kicking legs and watched a transformation in Maureen. Gorgeous, tension-taut legs spread to their extremity, beautifully tapered thighs wide open to expose the fluttering excitement of Maureen's needy pussy.
"My God, she's gone out of her tree!" Derek whispered hoarsely over his shoulder and Priscilla shushed him to silence.
Maureen's fingers... one... two ... . then three, drove through the molten fissure and found the clitty. "Look at it... look!" she shrilled, spreading the cleft with urgent fingers to expose the pronounced nubbin of the clitoris. "See! See what I have!" Boldly she spread the flanges of quim flesh and stared happily at the awe in the expressions of Milly and DeeDee as they watched the urgency of her need to exhibit.
"Baby... that is the biggest, sweetest cum trigger a girl ever had!" Milly stretched to tongue the outspoken cone and Maureen's palm swatted stingingly across her cheek. Startled, Milly, red hair tumbled carelessly across her shoulders, high color in her cheeks, moved back to safe watching.
"Do you like it?" Maureen demanded.
"I love," moaned Milly. "It's sucking big. Please let me try it."
"Me first," DeeDee squealed, making no move to invite the kind of punishment Milly had taken.
"I want you both... but you watch first and anyone else who wants to can watch what I do for myself when my Derek is mean to me."
Behind the wall Derek colored in the near darkness and wondered if Priscilla could feel his trembling excitement. She felt. Her fist circled the barrel of his hard-on and she began to stroke slowly and lovingly as they saw Maureen start to masturbate herself in earnest.
It was a strange compulsion, surpassing any reason. The loving eyes of two loaded with curiosity to explore her body, both wanting to lick that finger-strummed clitoris, seemed to drive Maureen even more to want. to exhibit a masturbated moment. All at once she was embarrassed and snatched the stroking finger from its play.
"Show us, Maureen. Take it all the way. We . want to watch it happen."
Quickly her fingers stirred the stiffened clit again, flicking it in urgent stimulation. Behind the mirror Prissy's clasp tightened and she was pumping Derek's wildly excited cock in perfect rhythm with Maureen's self-play. As Maureen undulated and wriggled to the fast mounting of her climax, Prissy pounded the turbulent hard-on in her hand. 'Gonna jerk you off same time as your wife comes," she hissed in Derek's ear.
"Ahhhh . yesss!" Maureen's body arched to the grab of orgasm. Before the crest had fully passed, both Milly and DeeDee were burrowing excitedly into the wide valley of her legs again, kissing the sweet flesh of her inner thigh, DeeDee burrowing without fear of another blow deep into the climax ridden cunty center.
"Beautiful... ohmiGod . beautiful!" Derek's semen flew against the glass on the reverse of the mirror as Prissy pumped him through his ejaculation. A violent emotion was tearing at the black girl as she gaped at the sparkle of love juice erupting from the great white pole clutched by her dark fist. It was primitive and it was wild. That white phallus could be yanked right off his front, paraded into the bedroom next door and flung at the three white girls. Show them something. She was black and beautiful. She had conquered the white cock belonging to the gorgeous creature spread in the middle of the bed playing herself to dumb craziness when she could have had this in her.
Some fantastic sense of injustice seized Prissy briefly. Made her whole body tremble as she pumped the wild prick of another lucky whitey. These two had everything. Mostly they had every day together and every night in the bed, too. She was a wanted waitress. A hundred cocks a day went hard for her and at least two a day went into her. But in this out-of-the-way nothing place in lower Kentucky, was where Priscilla's life could begin and end.
It was pure envy. She knew it. She fought it. She knew she wanted to leave this lucky man with the super-endowment of sex parts and go love his wildly voluptuous wife. Let him watch and groan and moan in his loneliness. Then maybe the son of-a-bitch would know what he stood to lose, not making this Maureen everything. A scream from the next room broke her reverie and she dropped Derek's unsurrendered hard-on and moved back down the passageway. He never noticed her leaving.
"You darlings!" Maureen's hands moved in light caressing strokes across the curvaceous backs of her two playmates. "You are driving me out of my mind!"
She felt herself pulled and twisted and tossed as hands prowled and tongues licked and legs entwined with hers. "Go out of your mind, Maureen, baby... we're going to love your titties and kiss a mile deep in that sweet cunt."
"Ooohhh ... . I... " Dark hair swirled from side to side as Maureen writhed atop the pillow hill that the girls made. "Tongue-fuck me. Kiss my vagina to death with your pretty pink tongues. Stick them up me as far as you can... " She paused, panting with need run wild.
"Will you love our cunties that way, too?" Red hair swirled lightly across Maureen's lips as Milly hovered close to her face.
"I will! I want to!" Maureen's imploring arms encircled Milly's shoulders and dragged her against her front. "Let me do you first."
"Not till I taste your sweet honey, doll." She dove wantonly for Maureen's palpitating cleft and licked voraciously along the moist and very over-heated passion lips: Maureen's orgasm stormed instantly again. The oils, the fingers, the lips and the impudent tongue that now masked her clitty brought her on in seconds. Not satisfied to feel the violent convulsions start, Milly's tongue stiffened penislike and speared past the clit deep and still deeper to lick thirstily at spasm-driven vaginal muscles. Maureen was locked in an orgasm. that tumbled from one crest to another and wouldn't stay or leave. An end-over-end climax mania seized and held her, almost paralyzed in its paroxysm.
Milly straightened triumphantly and beckoned DeeDee to sample. "Taste a pretty girl coming." Milly pushed her usual play partner to hurry her. "Get your tongue way in and you feel her cunty muscles grab just like you're a man."
"I want you... Oh, Milly, give me you while DeeDee plays with me!" Maureen clawed for Milly's hips and dragged her to position. "Closer! I can't move. DeeDee's got me trapped and I want you same time she takes me."
Milly needed no urging and wriggled close to the puckered lips as Maureen arched deeply to nuzzle into the sweet cunty valley. It was the first time Derek ever had imagined his wife in girl play. Fantastically animal and beautiful at the same time. He gawked at the flurry of dark hair, tossing eagerly across her shoulders, and he wondered if he was seeing an end to Maureen as a heterosexual female.
It was a hypnotic display of sex as the three in the girl nest took and were taken. In the midst of the happy cacophony of squeals. and groans of orgasm rapture, Maureen began to feel a new sensation... a new want that grabbed at every pore and muscle of her being. She was at the very height of fresh climax when the emotion grabbed her and it was frenzied in its demand. Wouldn't it be fantastic to be a man with these two?
A man! She could be a man!
Her head lifted from the blond nest of Dee-Dee's pubes and she looked across the room to where she had dumped her bag on arriving. There was just the thing in that bag to give these two sweet playmates of hers a perfectly nutty new sensation. She had made it herself in her studio in that first wild week of her marriage to Derek. He had pretended to hate her measuring his phallus with the calipers and called her a kink when she began to mold the form of his erect penis on her potter's wheel. But it was something she had to do.
When a few days later the warm, realistic neoprene cock emerged from the fixer bath, even Derek had a glint at the sight of his erection immortalized. He refused to let her keep it on her desk in the art studio, even though she promised she would tell no one whose it was. So she'd hidden it. And when they took off from Miami for Indianapolis to go get the furniture and wedding gifts, for some reason she had packed it into the side pocket of her suitcase.
The perfect plaything for the wildness of this moment. She broke from the clasp of DeeDee, ignoring the moan of despair from the platinum beauty as she darted to the bag. Both girls watched her, bent with her back to them as she fumbled with the strands of leather she had affixed to the dildo to let her pretend to be Derek.
"You little witch!" The oath burst from the voyeur's lips as he saw his wife spin to face her girl friends. He had thought the scene they'd had over what she had created had spelled an end to the pretend cock. It had disappeared and that was that. And all at once it was back again. Derek felt his heart race at the utter contradiction of his organ on Maureen's fabulous curvaceous front. The two females watching her approach as they lay totally entranced across the gold spread were completely silent.
For an instant Maureen's chest pounded with uncertainty, in fear of the look she saw in their eyes. They said nothing, simply stared at the sizzling combination of thrusting sunburst breasts, narrow waist and wide, wonderful hips. All back-ground for the grotesque overdeveloped erection at her crotch.
It was frighteningly real and Maureen knew it. With practiced expertise, she wove a nonchalant dance of girl/man bawdiness along the side of the bed. Arms high, breasts animated in their thrust and neoprene play cock leaping in believable excitement. A pelvis thrust and grind made the monstrosity storm at the air as she stared at the two beautiful girls on the bed. "Man time." She said it low and soft, her fingers playing obscenely along the length of the shaft, then aiming it at the pair. "Who wants me first?"
"Man time, hell!" Milly stretched for DeeDee and drew her close. "That is unreal! Who needs it?"
"We need it!" Maureen moved across the edge of the mattress and the cock did a side-to-side pendulum to the sway of her body as she swivel-hipped across the king-size bed, kneeing toward her targets. "I'm going to fuck you both out of your pretty heads. You can't stop me!"
Secretly she had to know. Were her two playmates just girl-to-girl types? Or did they really have the turn-on they pretended for Big John and Jake. It made a difference. Their love had inflamed her, but deep in her body there was a drumming of the sound of her favorite kind of love pressing with new need. She craved man love. Playing the man role would tell her something: Maybe there was no way to be both hetero and lesbian. Bisexual could be cocktail party talk. She thought she was, but would she remain a person who could appreciate AC/DC as they used to joke about others in art school.
A quiver of., anger tingled through DeeDee's body as she saw the fascination in her roommate's eyes for the way Maureen appeared. It had been disturbing enough that Milly wanted to play with this intruder into their affairs, but she could tolerate the little lesby interlude. Now it was going too far. This outsider with the luscious body, the dark shimmering hair and the massive fake prick on her front was going to drive Milly back to her former man madness.
Hetero was not what DeeDee wanted for flame-haired Milly's major interest. The two of them with black Priscilla moved through the horny eager man world of the truckers' restaurant and daily they each had their personal sex menu filled with spurting cocks. But in the last months DeeDee had tired of the rugged ruffians of the highway. The play with the tender touch and the searching tongue, the caressing finger tips and the urgency of pressed-together boobs... where did you find this in the trucker world? Except with Milly and Prissy.
"Take it off!" DeeDee wriggled free of Milly and grabbed for the hard-on decorating Maureen's pubic mound.
Thinking it was all play, Maureen gave a happy cry and lunged across DeeDee to get at Milly. The move threw her lower body across DeeDee's hips and the warm, fleshlike prick ground impudently into the platinum blonde's crotch. Fury came from nowhere inside DeeDee and she grabbed a handful of brunette hair and dragged viciously to pull Maureen from her best friend.
"Eeehh! Help, Milly!" Tears stinging her eyes at the violence from DeeDee, Maureen grabbed furiously for the hands holding her hair, pried free and was instantly spilled to her back by the red-head.
"Ye gods, that is a fantastic organ, DeeDee! Be nice to it." Milly flung a leg across Maureen's middle and proceeded to mount the reproduction of Derek's cock. "It is so, oh, so damned real."
Milly's body was convulsed in instant climax as the dildo, urged upward by the thrust of Maureen's buttocks, drove deep into her vagina. Head thrown back, hands on her hips, eyes closed to the wonder of the girl-to-girl copulation, Milly was red-haired frenzy in total orgasm.
No one but Priscilla saw the lethal intent of DeeDee as the blonde flung herself at Maureen's upper body. Her hands were like claws fixed on the glories of two gorgeous breasts. Squeezing!
"Oh, DeeDee, please! No... NO!" Maureen writhed in frantic effort to free from the hands that clamped to her boobs, but escape was impossible. Milly was mounted firmly and fully on the plastic cock and she was rocking in a self-induced climax that refused to ease. For the moment Maureen's exposed upper body was entirely DeeDee's and to the black girl entering the room it was plain her roommate was ready to destroy.
Fingers tightening on the jutting beauty of the rich breasts, DeeDee's fury forced the tumescent nipples to blossom to incredible exclamation points of want and fear. Seeing the threat to the magnificent globes, a shocked Priscilla flung herself across the bed, tearing at DeeDee's shoulders.
It was a moment of terror for Derek, helpless in the passageway, gaping at what could be the murder of his wife. He stared disbelievingly as the dark fury of Priscilla's body flung itself into the fray. Just that quickly the girl battle took sides as Milly, still mounted on the play cock, saw her roommate torn from what she thought was fun frolic with Maureen's breasts.
With a scream of outrage at Priscilla's roughness with DeeDee, Milly lunged across the black girl's shoulders to drag her from what promised to get someone hurt. Seconds later Prissy was spread on the bed with her lovely ebony body wriggling under the wrist-and-ankle-bolds of Milly and DeeDee. Only Maureen was out of it, curled in an incongruous ball of frightened girl at one side of the bed. She was clutching across her middle, hugging herself against further mayhem from DeeDee as she stared at the three girls. Words wouldn't come and she waited for someone to make sense of the wild turn of events.
"Come!" It was Prissy, sounding less a captive to her two friends and more like person in charge. "Bring that beautiful rod over here."
"No way," gashed Maureen. "I'd rather live."
"She won't touch you again." Priscilla writhed against Milly's hands holding her wrists flat against the gold spread. "Didn't you see DeeDee killing the company? Show her, Maureen."
"What are you talking about?" Milly's flame hair tossed as she twisted to look over at Maureen. Then she saw the red marks where DeeDee's fingers had squeezed Maureen's breasts. "My God, DeeDee, that is the last straw!"
Maureen jerked away from the hand at her breast as Milly reached to soothe the gorgeous mounds. "I am a man!" They watched her straddle the dark, smoothly contoured sleekness of Prissy's thighs, and against the black skin her own flesh, and especially the ivory whiteness of the play cock still attached to her loins, was dramatic.
"Oh, you wild man creature," whispered an entranced Priscilla. "Wherever did you find a mister prick like that? I swear I've seen it somewhere."
In the cloister of the passageway Derek winced at the fantastic eroticism of the sight, never hearing Prissy's remark.
"Maureen, please!" There was genuine pleading in Prissy's voice. "You have to be my man and put that gorgeous cock up me. My friends are really sorry about your boobies... aren't you, Milly?... aren't you, DeeDee?"
Not caring what the answer was, feeling only the intense magnetism of Priscilla's wanting, Maureen spread the black girl's thighs and kneed to position to fuck her.
The orgasm shriek tore at the walls as the long cock, that felt exactly as the real thing had moments before, sank to the depths of Prissy's vagina. It was two-way rapture. The base of the dildo had a rounded nipple cap that forced the cunt lips of its wearer wide to coital thrusting. The hypersensitized clitoris, crushed by the pressure of the neoprene, was in flaming climax as a chagrined DeeDee and an excited Milly watched. Both Maureen and Prissy were locked in feverish climax.
It was a magnetism neither could resist as Maureen, arched to the mania of her coming, cupped her hands across her boobs and squeezed. Both watching females thought it was to soothe the hurt that DeeDee had brought and they crept to either side of the possessed one.
"Let us... Maureen ... . I'm sorry I hurt you. Please, let us love you while you play man," pleaded DeeDee, pulling at the fingers covering Maureen's breasts. "We want to kiss them while you take Priscilla."
The sparkle of fear left Maureen's eyes as she drew her bands away and flung her arms behind her to offer the outspoken fullness of high-thrusting breasts to the will of the girl who had just attacked them. She seemed not to care as she looked from Milly to DeeDee. "Tear them right off my front, if you want," she dared, her voice brittle with tension as she stared at the stiletto sharpness of DeeDee's fingernails. "One swipe and you can ruin me as a woman." Her glorious boobs heaved boldly to her words and she glared at DeeDee. "And I wouldn't care... cause I still could do this. I'm a man!"
Her lower body was humping feverishly into Priscilla's welcoming vagina. The long shaft of the copy of Derek's cock went in and almost all the way out and with each thrust Prissy's rapture went from wild to wilder. Neither DeeDee nor Milly saw a bit of the pretend coitus. Both were lip-locked to Maureen's offered breasts... siphoning thirstily at maddened nipples, triggering one climax after the other in their new playmate. An utterly spellbound Derek tried to understand how it all had come so far so fast. He had managed to work his way out of a wife and now out of Priscilla.
Somehow it all seemed ridiculous to stay in the empty passageway staring at girl play any longer. He longed for the guts to dash into the room with the girls, his freshened hard-on jutting its hunger as he pleaded with them to suck him and fuck him and take the real thing. But it wouldn't wash. The four in bed beyond the mirror had the real thing they wanted. It turned Derek's sex world into an upside-down mess.
Hardly noticing two males at the far end of the hall watching as he left the passage closet door, he stumbled into 2-A and flopped exhausted onto a lonely bed.
"Be goddamned," muttered Big John. "Jake, ain't that Maureen's old man?"
CHAPTER FIVE
Derek was gone when Maureen came down from her room in the morning. A note at the front desk read simply. You move faster than I do. I drove on ahead. See you at Atlanta tonight as planned. Love DEREK She reread the note at the table in the dining room and wondered if Derek was double-entendring with the "you move faster" bit or if he really meant it was the kiss-off of their marriage.
"So, why don't you stay on with us?" The three were standing there at the side of her booth, fully dressed and looking worried. "If it isn't going to work," Milly dropped onto the soft cushion of the bench beside Maureen, "then get out now."
"We'd love to have a fourth," giggled DeeDee, all the hostility of the night before long gone. "For bridge, of course."
"But I don't play bridge, 'Sides," Maureen wig-waggled the note from her husband, "it still may work. Isn't one of you supposed to be waiting table?"
"These guys go cafeteria style in the morning. Bare boobs aren't that big with most of 'em before coffee."
Maureen clasped Milly's hand and smiled across the table at DeeDee and Prissy. "Thank you for last night. And thank you for the invitation. A gal could get hooked on that kind of hospitality."
"Oh, speaking of hospitality." DeeDee was embarrassed, but she made herself go on. "I'm so sorry I lost my cool. Are you sure I didn't hurt them?"
There was a second of silence, then Maureen caught both DeeDee's hand and squeezed. "They're fine, 'cept that they're itching crazy right now. Know what drives me bananas?" She ducked her head and- the three leaned close to hear her lowered voice. "I keep seeing you both sucking my nipples while I did a number with my Derek's play penis on Prissy. I'll never have that feeling again in my whole life."
"With Derek?" echoed DeeDee.
She told them in whispers about making the replica of her bridegroom's erection and that was what she used on Prissy in the bed.
"You better go see what you can do to make that marriage work," decided Milly. "If you ever get your .chemistry together, you two ought to have some wild times."
"I think I'm ready," agreed Maureen. "But it's nice to know I have a job to come back to, if it doesn't work out."
"Any time." Milly pushed from the booth and the other two followed. Very brief kiss on the forehead by Milly and a short exchange of glances by the two. "If you still itch after breakfast, come on upstairs. This is our sleep-in day."
"Thanks. I better go."
Milly caught the other two on the stairs going back to their room. "You were strange, Priscilla Mason," she accused quietly. "When Maureen told us that was her man's organ, you just looked the way you look... you know, like you knew something."
"I did." The black girl smiled in quiet smugness. "Her Derek had the real thing in me an hour before." She let her friends absorb that a moment, then went on. "And what's more, you know what she told us how he didn't like mouth love?"
"You taught him to like it," observed DeeDee.
Prissy shivered happily. "He taught me to like it all over again. That man had the prettiest honky cock I ever saw. Just like ivory. I almost cut it off to keep it for my souvenir."
"Wish you had," snipped Milly. "Then we for sure would get Maureen back." Her arm rested casually along the small of DeeDee's back. "Take me to bed, dolls. Before one of those super-horny road jockeys comes out of his room loaded with eighty-eights."
"I never understand that jive," complained Prissy. "What are eighty-eights?"
"That's CB for love and kisses." Milly pushed the girls in the room ahead of her. "And who needs it? I go for bare breasts before breakfast,' personally."
DeeDee toppled happily into their bed, arms outflung for her roommate. "I'm so glad. Come find mine."
* * *
A dejected Derek was lumbering through the early morning mists on I-75, never seeing the hill country beauty around him. All he could remember was the sight of Maureen happy in the arms of those three waitresses and using her reproduction of his sexual best to amuse them. It all had come to this in less than four weeks of their becoming man and wife. He didn't have the foggiest notion if he would see Maureen in Atlanta or just turn off and head due West. Call the whole damned thing off...
The needle in his conscience pricked when he remembered that he was so ready to believe she had shacked up with one of the truckers when she left his room. And he had been almost sure she had played with those two jokers who helped her change the tire earlier. And on all counts he had been wrong. So she played with girls. That was better than shackin' with guys. In fact, it was kind of wild.
The needle deepened. He remembered the way he was with Priscilla. "Hell, a guy's only human... " he growled at the empty cab of his truck. "Shit ... . so's she... " They both had been a couple of immature babies, he decided, and by now she was probably on the phone with their lawyer in Miami.
Sure his marriage wasn't about to survive the trip to Miami, he forced his thoughts off the whole mess and tried to concentrate on the driving. Up ahead he saw the green Caddie off the shoulder of the road and just beyond, thumbs up and one of them waving a hanky, were two of the prettiest females he'd seen since leaving Florida.
"Help you, ladies?" He smiled down at the stacked blonde with the opened blouse and the super legs exposed almost to the crotch in the blowy skirt.
"Can you take us to the next town?" Her companion cinched the belt at her waist nervously and Derek saw the sweater snugged tight across outspoken breasts, taut points visible. "We seem to have blown out the lines in our cooling system."
"Climb aboard. You're fifty miles from any-where."
"We know. I'm Pandy, by the way," said the blonde, "and the beautiful one of us is Arlene."
"I'm Derek... I hope Arlene hasn't got a gun in that briefcase." He eyed the black attache case.
Their laughter broke the grimness of his mood and he watched Arlene open the briefcase to show her portable CB. "It's the one thing they rip off a deserted car. That's why we got us the tray-elfin' kind o' ears." She tilted her head inquisitively toward his dashboard and Derek made a mental note that a pageboy haircut might be old style, but it was damned sexy. "You don't have a box in your rig."
He shrugged. "It's a rental truck. Got one in my car, though... uhhh, it's back... uhhh " He went silent. No point in mentioning they were being followed by his wife. Out of the corner of his eye he cased the pair. Arlene's hand had drifted over Pandy's thigh to clasp the other's fingers. It was a little thing, but it said a lot. They might be lesby, or they might be plain scared. Or they might be up for something more interesting than either scared or lesby. He thought he'd risk it. "Say, either of you know if a person's really married till the copy of the marriage license comes back?"
Pandy's giggle was contagious. "I found out. You aren't really married, even then. It's a lot more than a piece of old paper."
He nodded, staring stonily out the window at the road ahead. "That's what I'm findin' out, too."
"Why not tell us about it?" Pandy's hand drifted across to rest encouragingly on his knee and Derek tossed a glance at Arlene whose hand still lay lightly on her friend's leg. In just that few minutes a strange kind of understanding between complete strangers seemed to be linking together by the touch of hands. He told about the series of events that had happened since leaving Indiana.
"Where is your wife now?"
"Not sure she's my wife, like I was saying ... . but she's back there a couple of hundred miles."
"And you think she may be playing around with a bunch of truckers?"
"I didn't say that. I only saw her lovin' it up with these girls I was tellin' you about. But --"
"But you think she could be with a man now or you wouldn't be talking that way."
"Well... "
"Haven't you ever fooled with a girl since your marriage?"
"Hell, no," he lied. "I have my standards."
"Or didn't have your chance," murmured Pandy, her fingers tracing lightly above his knee. "Girls other than your wife do bother you... like right now."
"That's not so. It's just normal old me." He glanced defensively at the thickening along his in-seam. "You gals sure do stick together."
"We have to sometimes." Arlene leaned across her friend's front and Derek shuddered at the erotic excitement he felt. He could see all of her breast except the very tip, which the teeny bra covered. The potent female electricity in the two girls shot like an arrow to his groin, destroying all the controls he always thought he had over visible arousal. He looked from the ridgepole clearly out-lined along his leg to the triumph in the eyes of the two at his side. "You have the same problem any other normal male has, Derek. Or do you still claim it's just more of overbuilt you?"
"Doesn't mean a thing," he growled. "So, you two are turn-ons to me. That's my body's way of sayin', 'Hey, they're a couple of sharp cookies. That's all that means.'"
"That is revolting!" exclaimed Pandy, her hand slipping from his knee to rest casually on the cloth covering the knobby outline of his cock crown. "You are telling me you have this thing of yours under perfect control and it's only your private little compliment to our sex? And you still have no real problems about self-control and all that good stuff? Right?"
"That's right." He glanced down at the very feminine hand cued over his glans tip. "And you can leave that hand right there and it'll have no effect on me."
Arlene's finger were busy at the sweater snaps behind Pandy's back at the same time that Pandy's fingers found the zipper of Derek's pants. "No way anyone can prove it without seeing the bare facts. Now, take Pandy's reactions to our driver, for instance... " The blouse fell away and with it the bra. Derek's gasp was involuntary. Pandy had the biggest, hardest nipples he ever had seen. Peach-pink, provocative, topping rich globes, they stood more than a half an inch of turgid excitement and the excitement traveled two ways--to Derek and to Arlene.
"See, here's mister self-control himself!" Pandy dragged the horny gristle of Derek's erection into view and squeezed, trapping blood in the cap and forcing it to almost double the size. "Now, that's what I call a male of the species."
Arlene leaned against the door and looked across the two. "I'd say there's one of each," she said. "Male and female. I think Derek needs to prove something to us."
"Don't have to prove a damn thing," he snorted, wishing the fist clamped around his cock would play with it or do most anything. The whole discussion was a lot of crap he'd started to pass the time and now it was coming back to haunt him and accomplish nothing. He had a sudden storm of doubt. This pair of cockteasers were having a little fun with their benefactor and they probably thought they were giving him his kicks. After last night games were the last thing he needed. "Look good to you?", he demanded as Pandy bent across his thigh and brought her face within inches of his hard-on.
"Looks. positively edible." Her tongue stabbed impudently and missed.
"I'd rather drink it," cooed Arlene.
"Tell you one thing, if I decide to hold it, there isn't any female in the world who can make it come."
"Arlene?" Pandy, looked over her shoulder at her friend. "That's a dare I can't walk away from. You're older. You want to drink him first?"
"Go right ahead, sweet one." Arlene was already scrooching out of her things. "I have another test for our ever-faithful almost-husband when you're done."
Derek wondered if the minimum speed sign he'd seen back down the road was enforced as he cut back to a crawling thirty-five. Trim black hair framed Pandy's petite face as she bent coolly to the fellatio. He eyed the exquisitely carved profile of the girl, carefully turned to present her action to him. She wanted him to see his cock go into those ruby lips and to give him privacy to stare, she even closed her eyes as she began to siphon and suck.
It was too pat.
Too damned professional and cocksure.
He grunted as he wondered who invented cock-sure for a word. Maybe the inventor felt the way he felt right at the moment. Come hell or high water, he was not about to let go in this chick's mouth. She could suck him to Miami, for all he cared. In fact, it would be a kind of record, he'd bet. He forced himself to think about records. No way Guinness would print any kind of fellatio stand-off record, but it was a hell of an interesting idea. And it helped kill time while he let her nurse his prick till suddenly she spat it sopping from her mouth.
"He's queer," she flared angrily, glaring into the satisfied smile on Derek's face. "Maybe , you're some kind of transsexual or something... right?"
"Wrong. Just a guy who has all the control he needs to be a good husband to a good wife. If he had one, that is."
"Let's make it tougher. Pandy, trade places with me and let me see how brave he is with his fidelity kick."
The girls shifted and the instant she was at his side Arlene's fingers were milking sensuously along the undiminished erection, drying Pandy's saliva and deviling the thin flesh at the apex of the glans. "You wouldn't dare the whole trip, I betcha," she taunted.
"Try me."
There was something profoundly disturbing in the way Arlene looked at him under that tumble of blonde spilling across her forehead. "Dare you to fuck me while you keep on truckin'." She said it simply and she knew his answer without waiting for it. Her leg traveled across his and suddenly she was making what had to be an awkward copulation angle look very easy. "You'll have to steer it in," she murmured, leaning slightly toward the wheel and hefting upward to give him room to aim.
He probed low under the sweet curve of her ass cheeks and, as if they had done it half a million times before, he scored on the first thrust. His cock was halfway into her vagina, driving in at the most sensitive angle, torturing every nerve in his groin and sending murderous sensations that threatened premature ejaculation before he ever had begun to thrust. They found the tempo and a low, simmering coitus was under way. Little more than a light pulsing between the two was visible to Pandy at the side, but it was a tumult of two driven bodies under Arlene's skirt.
No way Derek was about to be able to hold back the climax urgency pounding his loins. A frenzied friction mounted up and down his shaft, the delicious pressure of her tail grinding sexily against his balls on her downthrust. Most maddening of all, was the fact she was in climax and staying there, low-keyed but totally from the first second he pressed his cock into her.
In the side mirror the lone car a mile behind suddenly became a major terror. It was white. It was Marquis. It was their car. Maureen was over-taking at high speed!
"Duck!" he barked just as the Mere pulled out into the passing lane.
A sharp rat-a-tat of her horn and an innocent wave over her shoulder was all the interest his wife appeared to take in her husband as she sped by.
It was that quick. He couldn't even remember if he waved back, he was so absorbed in keeping Arlene and Pandy down and out of sight.
Pandy peeked above the dash at the receding car. "Guess who that must have been," she snapped sarcastically. "When the cat's away, the mice and all that jazz... "
"Shut up!" Derek's face was flushed and no one had to tell Arlene that a beautiful beginning had just pooped. She slid off the softening penis and patted herself neatly into place, then settled back against the seat, silent and pensive.
Down the highway a puzzled Maureen stared at the distant square box of the U-Haul. He had someone in that dab with him. A girl someone!
Derek had picked up a female. The way he'd been crawling when she overtook, made her think he was having engine trouble, till she caught that flurry of blonde hair just above the dash, half into the driver's side. He was up to something and there was no way to find out... or... of course, there was.
She reached for her CB mike. The U-Haul didn't have ears, so she could call in the blind, without Derek knowing. "Breaker one-niner, this is Lovelips to the Red Thermos Bottle southbound on I-75 above milemarker 321. Do you read?"
"Loud and clear, Lovelips. What's up?"
"You have a U-Haul, Indiana license plates, maybe a mile from you. Could you hammer down the bullet lane and give it an eyeball? I need to know if my sisters are in that rig with my husband."
"Negatory, Lovelips. Got a smokey dozin' in the bushes about a mile ahead. Surprised you didn't get him on your tail, the way you're movin'. Say, how'd you learn them fancy trucker words?"
"Thermos bottle, please. When you get by smokey, give a look, like a dear. I have to be sure my sisters made it."
"Ten four. I'll try." There was silence. Minutes that seemed like hours went by, and then the call came back.
"Breaker one-niner. Thermos bottle has an affirmative for Lovelips. The U-Haul has a driver and two girls aboard. You sure they're your sisters?"
"That's affirmative. Why?"
There was an uncomfortable silence. "No reason. By the way, the U-Haul is just pullin' over into the rest stop at milemarker 356. Over and out."
It seemed like forever before the exit appeared and, fingers crossed that there was reentry on the other side, Maureen darted down the macadam break-off. Seconds later she was northbound again and within minutes she saw the rest stop and the lone vehicle parked back of the stand of trees near the rest rooms. It was Derek's truck.
It felt to Maureen her life had come to total standstill. She slid the Marquis to the curb beside a concrete block toolhouse where it was out of line of vision to the truck or the woods behind it. Her thoughts darted back twenty-four hours. Had it only been the day before when she had had her encounter with the three truckers at that other rest stop? She barely noticed the rest stop was empty as she slid from the car, undecided what to do now that she was here.
Her husband was somewhere near. Unless the trucker had been teasing, Derek was not alone. She eased away from the concealing building and crossed the short open space to the dense pine growth, heart pounding with fear. Fear that he'd seen her and that would be that. No explanation, whether he was alone or with someone would help what had happened to their marriage. A happy laugh deep in the woods drew her hurrying down a pine-soft path.
"Hell, yes. That's what I said!" The sound of Derek's voice just beyond the brush shrub ahead stopped her trembling by the side of the towering oak. "I just happen to be a guy with super self-control."
"That is about as male chauvinistic as you can get," sniffed the voice of an unseen female. "Arlene, please, put, your camera down and let's go skinny dip."
"Not till I get what Derek-darling promised. All these humongous naked oak trees and one lone naked male, built like an oak tree himself."
Maureen trembled with need to see and terror at the thought of seeing. Was her man already naked or were these two females trying to get him that way?
"You're just wasting time with your precious Nikon, taking a picture of a man in this state. You can't enter it in that silly People contest anyway. Branches on an oak, okay, but that stick-out branch on him... that's ridiculous. It's top-heavy."
Maureen's heart fluttered to near complete arrest and she risked the peek around the brush. Devastating sight! Her man was naked and nonchalant in full-blown erection, leaning against the massive trunk of the tree at the lake edge.
Kneeling nude at the water and looking coyly over her shoulder up the muscled front of Maureen's husband was a young girl of sixteen, maybe seventeen. She was silver platinum blonde and the long tresses drifted carelessly down her shapely back. In her fingers was a leafy branch that she was dawdling idly in the water, making tiny circles. Curiously she seemed indifferent to the outspoken length of horny gristle just beyond her right shoulder.
It was the other female with no more cover on her body than the very narrow strap which held the camera who sent the real tremors through Maureen. She was slightly older than Maureen, maybe thirty. Like the younger, she was a silver platinum blonde. Maureen wondered if they were sisters. But her way of looking at Derek was the frightening thing to see. Pure predatory and feline. If she was interested in picture taking at all, she was far more interested in the prick that leaped from the loins of the man facing her.
"Pandy's right, Derek. I'm quite serious. I want a picture of you in that setting. You have the perfect musculature. But you have to get that penis down. Even then, you may have too much out front for me to use. They're really strange with their judging."
Maureen fumed silently as she listened and watched her man's brazen calm.
"You have to help me win, Derek." The one called Arlene came very close to his front, her fantastic bod twisting to angle a sleekly turned hip against his darkening cock crown. "Please! See, if I even place in the top ten, it's worth over a thousand dollars prize money."
"Told you, be glad to help. What do I do to get rid of the hard?" He actually seemed to be enjoying his dilemma.
"Maybe what Pandy says. Swim. Except then I have to wait till you sun dry. Your body would shine too much. Darn, if you'd shoot a load, it'd get you soft." Arlene sighed when he remained silent, shifted weight and smiled mischievously into his face as her hip rubbed the hypersensitivity of the cock crown. "Why don't you go jump into the cold water, then? Will that soften the ugly old thing?"
Maureen watched the arrogant familiarity of her husband as he grabbed the root of his cock stalk and brushed it along the satin silkiness of Arlene's thigh flesh. "The way it is, nothin' could bring it down!"
Arlene was not merely turned on by the light contact of the phallus against her hip and thigh. She was visibly shaken by the tantalizing touch of the erection, Swinging the camera across her shoulder, where it dangled incongruously on the strap, banging her back, she clutched feverishly at his hips to draw him tightly to her front.
For an inhinged few seconds the two stood cemented together on the path by the water's edge, Pandy watching intently as they rocked together. Arlene managed to slightly part her smoothly tapered legs and Derek's thunderous organ stormed through. An incredibly frantic Maureen, powerless to act, watched the fat mushroom of his glans cap plunge into view through Arlene's thigh, squeezed so painfully by the trap that the crown was purpling and twice its normal swollen size.
Pandy was suddenly turned on. She twisted to a position directly behind Arlene and reached to devil the protruding prick cap. "Hold him right there, Mommy! I'll soften him for your picture."
Double-barreled shock to Derek. He visibly strained against the trap of Arlene's legs while Pandy's fingers toyed with the grotesquely swollen cap. "Won't work... Mommy!" He snorted the word like an accusation and it worked the magic on Arlene that nothing else could. She broke their embrace and backed a step away, looking coolly at her daughter and then at Derek's savagely distorted cock.
"Pandora... you do enjoy being the spoiler. Now Derek knows I'm an old woman." Nonchalantly she dragged the camera back over her shoulder and studied the ASA setting on the top.
"Hey... no spoiler." The protest leaped from Derek's mouth. "You won't ever convince me you were more than ten when you had this adolescent. So, I want to get your picture for you and I'm a married man. Just married, in fact, so I'm faithful. Okay?" A curious kind of relief flooded Maureen, even though her man's sex organ leaped as he admitted marriage to someone. "That's why I said I could hold it when we were playin' in the truck out there. I can still hold it... if I want to."
"So make a poor photog a happy girl. How can we make you soft if a cold swim won't and you're all that faithful?"
His eyes had a kind of dilated intensity as he stared at Arlene. "I could beat it off." He made the declaration matter-of-fact and calm, but both females were visibly shaken.
"You really mean that?" Arlene was close to his face, looking searchingly into his eyes. "I think I'd love you for doing it."
"Just stay close... like you are... " His fist closed around the turbulent barrel and he began to masturbate. "Never did this right in front of a woman, but... I... whatcha doin'?"
She had backed half a step away and dropped to a knee to aim her Nikon lens at the tempestuous tip of his erection. "Want to get a picture of you doing it. I never saw a man beat himself before. It... it's pretty."
"Hell... it's private, tool"
"No one will ever know. Just us three. I only have your genitals in the lens."
If she lived to be a thousand, Maureen would never forget the intensity in Derek as he bent to scoop the strap and camera from Arlene and hold it out to Pandy. "Sweet adolescent, can you work this thing?"
"'Course:" Pandy's lips pouted sexily as she snatched the camera from Derek and aimed it at his lower body. "So, big man, you're kinda adolescent yourself. Dare you to beat it right into Mommy's face?"
"Oh, dear God, yes!" The suggestion sent a wild tremor through Arlene and straightening, she drew back her shoulders and forced firm full breasts into danger's way. "Beat me everywhere. My face, my head, my hair... and, please, please beat my boobies. I've never been cock whacked in my titties."
A disbelieving Maureen, who had till now been almost convinced she had married a monk, saw passion light Derek's expression as he slapped his erection to-and-fro across Arlene's lovely face. Her eyes danced in appreciation and her mouth ovaled invitingly, but he wasn't taking the oral route. Somehow it was a kind of kinky declaration of his faithfulness to his marriage as he pounded mercilessly at the phallic excitement with fellatio offered within inches. Maureen felt a curious glow of pride and for all the madcap of the scene, felt her first ray of hope for their marriage.
Pandy scrabbled busily behind her mother, at Derek's side, then from down under shooting up to capture the tight grip of his fist on the shaft. "Stick your breasts real high and let him whack the nipples." She squealed excitedly as Arlene obeyed, arching deeply to thrust the orbs skyward to present the targets Pandy had demanded.
"Hit them, big man," taunted Pandy, snapping pictures furiously as the prick swept, across the outspoken cherries, whacking gaily at the explosive prominence of the boobs. "That's the only part of me bigger'n my Mommy." She bent back from her kneeling position, forcing her shoulders deeply back, putting her own boobs on bold display. "Hit mine, too." Even Maureen caught her breath at the girl's distended nipples--they jutted almost an inch from the dazzling golden globes.
"Oh, Lord, that is somethin' else!" The sight of all this woman wealth triggered Derek's semen barrage, even as he spoke. A high flying trajectory of milk-white joy shot across the top of Arlene's light and lovely platinum hair, splattering happily both startled fronts. Sparkling gaily in flight, the cum struck the nipples and trickled over the curve of breasts, drooling down Arlene's forehead, puddling in Pandy's cleavage.
For one stunned second the three were a stop-action tableau of sexual want halted in mid-act.
Arlene's unblinking stare was focused on the light drool of leftover semen edging from the eyelet of Derek's cock. Pandy was something else, her youthful heat taking over self-control as she wilted to the ground on the soft grass beside them.
"It's on them," she moaned, writhing to her back in her own possessed world. "The man put pretty semen on my nipples."
She was a voluptuous, mature woman in the grip of a frantically personal moment, uncaring that both Derek and Arlene were staring. Her fingers wove a sensuous choreography across the inflamed nipples and Derek wondered if constant personal toying with them had made them enlarge to such prominent exclamations of desire.
"You didn't go down." It was a quiet accusation from Arlene's voice, midway down his body. "You are bigger than ever, if anything."
Turned away from her daughter's self-stimulation with Derek's ejaculation to look with awed disbelief at the erection still trembling directly before her, Arlene sighed. "I don't understand you. You must have shot a quart"
"More like a teaspoon!" snorted Derek, bracing against the tree and arching his proud body to throw his sexual parts forward in bold relief. "I don't understand me either."
Her hand caressed the side of the trembling cock shaft and her voluptuous figure was straining slightly with want that wouldn't be put down. "First, you can hold back from coming till you want and now you can't make it collapse after you do squirt"
"Needs something," he mumbled.
Maureen watched unbelieving as Arlene's sensuous lips puckered to the tip. "Will you be good to me this time?"
It couldn't be happening,. thought Maureen. Not in one million years would she believe that the man who had once claimed oral love was dirty was letting a stranger take him. But he was. "Beg," came the demand, low but very clearly. "Beg for what you refused back in the truck."
"Please!" Derek's voice was a broken croak. "Suck me... please."
"Say it. Keep sayin' it while I do it... Wanta suck-off in front of the whole world?"
"Yeah!" His pelvic thrust jammed the thick dark cone into Arlene's ready lips. "Suck me off... suck it... in front o' the whole... the whole... " His hips were quivering violently; his buttocks cheeks tight and pinched as his ejaculation sprayed furiously through Arlene's lips. She was taken by surprise but ready, even so, milking and munching, dragging him by the hips to drop to her side on the soft grass. Still in orgasm hypnosis, he continued to pulse for nearly a moment after his semen stopped flooding.
They lay quietly after Arlene released his organ wet and dripping from her lip trap and both stared at each other and then at it. Neither spoke. It was Pandy who broke the silence. "Mommy... he's the one."
Arlene seemed to understand and twisted to look over Derek's body at her daughter stretched in restless nudity beside them. Derek wondered if she had made herself come to the self-stimulation. Whatever, she had done it to herself, while Arlene siphoned his brimming prick and finally brought about the soft penis she wanted.
"He's the one, Mommy," repeated Pandy, her hand drifting across the grass to touch Derek's flaccid sexuality. "You promised I could pick and you would help me get it from mister right."
"You're sure?" A believable kind of tremor crossed from Arlene's body to Derek's. Her eyes didn't look as though they were teasing. "You're sure, Pandora?" she repeated.
"I'm sure. I want to learn on his. It's beautiful." So was Pandy as she said it, arms crossing her midriff and squeezing to free bold breasts in bolder relief, her, tummy so taut with want it actually hollowed and pressed the pubic mound to greater prominence. "Will you, please, Mommy?"
"You may not believe this, Derek. My daughter is a virgin. She has been given all privileges in sex play but one. That she promised to consummate only when I could be there to see and maybe help. Do you believe this?"
If he didn't, it was visible his libido did. Slowly, but very determinedly, a rubbery penis began to creep across his thigh. "He believes... look! Will you look at it grow!"
Mingled fury and fascination held Maureen in stunned paralysis. It had to be a mother/daughter game they worked on all their many men. And Derek was buying. No! Derek had bought. His erection was fully ballooned, ramrodding in horny excitement at the heavens. It was like some kind of nether world to an intrigued and outraged Maureen. Another woman propelling Derek's big prick toward the surrendered wantonness of the little witch with the super hips and the jutting breasts and the untried vagina. And her Derek was going to try it.
His knees were in the valley of Pandy's thighs and he was hovering, angling his outrageously long shaft into the warmth at her crotch. His cap was a blunt knob urging itself through baby soft pussy flesh and when the scream broke from Pandy's lips, it wasn't a hurt scream. It was a squeal of thrill to much practiced coitus. She was about as virgin as her mother, raged Maureen in silence.
Arlene was worst of all. Visibly enamored of oral sex with her daughter and with a man's phallus in close proximity. Crouched beside the two, she nudged her pretty head against their bodies, forcing them to arch and give her room to play. While Derek went slowly berserk to Arlene's tongue-tease and the tight squeeze of Pandy's snug quim, Maureen went slowly down the path that led from her husband's betrayal.
It was his cop-out on love that bugged her most. Her man was deliberate in his betrayal of their marriage. Nothing she had done gave him warrant, as far as Derek knew. He had seen none of the romp in Murphy's or anywhere along the ride from Indiana to Florida. There was no reason for him to write her off for the fight between them the night before. If he'd do it now, he'd do it again... and again...
Behind her by the lake there was the hoarse cry of a man in the throes of orgasm. Her man! He was pouring what belonged to her into another woman's vagina. The lure was both irresistible and irrational to return and look. He had done it. There was no turning back the clock. And then truth stung. Even as Maureen edged back around the bush to see the newest cockymania, she remembered. She had taken her share of others, too. Male and female. They all had been fun. Why should she expect him to be any different?
She stared at the total conversion of the one-time hater of oral love. He had the two luscious females, one sprawled atop the other, and positioned them in writhing sexy display of their woman wealth. Arlene was outstretched beneath her daughter, her arms circled up from under to clamp across Tandy's midriff. The sight of woman clutching woman, her fingers strumming happily across the incredibly pointing nipples of the other and forcing new climax, was totally maddening. And it was a magnet to Maureen.
The night before she had been part of lesby play for the first time in her life. Now, seeing her man burrowing lustily into the pussy center of one, while fingering the cunt lips of the other, she felt an overwhelming need to bring the crisis in her life to a head.
Tearing the cover from her body, she stripped behind the bush and emerged nude and wild-ready for whatever. None of the three saw her approach. Both females were on their backs, bodies arched to Derek's tormenting tongue. He was busily licking into the threshold of the boldly offered vulva of a possessed Pandy, his back to Maureen's approach. "Ohhh . beautiful! Man... ohhh, out of this world! Suck it... it's bigger than my nipples!"
Derek was in wild new erection. His head, visible from the back only, was burrowing eagerly for Pandy's ditty and his fingers, which had been playing with Arlene's pussy when he started the cunnilingus, now clutched feverishly to try to immobilize Pandy's thrashing hips.
Without a word, a nude Maureen dropped to the grass at Derek's feet, threw herself across his legs and grabbed the defenseless hard-on. His cry was muffled and then silenced as he apparently thought his cock was the object of new fellatio by Arlene. It was totally the property of Maureen and when she heard the surprised explanation of the mother to the pretend virgin, she never looked up from her preoccupation.
Derek's cock was hers completely. She nibbled the outer rim of the fat glans, then engulfed the darkness without preliminary. Torturing the glans with the whirlpool wash of saliva and a bedeviling tongue, she milked it feverishly. Just as she felt pulsing tremors low at the root of the horny length advertise that orgasm was imminent, Maureen felt kill rage. He had supposedly given her this beautiful plaything for life. He already had shared it with the world. He deserved to lose the whole package of his manhood! She squeezed fiercely, staring at the place where the great white bone disappeared into the nest of dark pubic hair.
There was such a runaway excitement in his groin, the prick stood out like an animal apart from the rest of his body. And even as she felt the impulse to rip cock and balls from that trembling front, an electrifying fact grabbed. Her man was about to shoot that load of semen she had thirsted after. For what had seemed aeons, she had wanted to suck him. And now her husband was about to ejaculate of his own will into her mouth. Suck-mania whipping her to orgasm herself, she milked fiercely at the indriven organ. Abruptly he came.
Stopping the frenzy--freezing his passion for the pussy lips that had preoccupied him--he eagerly shot into the thirsty oval of Maureen's mouth. And the instant the climax began to ebb, Maureen's panic surged. In the setting she had invaded, once reason returned, there was going to be no way to salvage reconciliation. In one last long draught he took his final semen drops, broke her clasp and darted away. There was a startled female cry, but when she looked over her shoulder, Derek was still buried, face deep in the passion center of the younger, while Arlene stared incredulously after Maureen's retreat.
At the edge of the trees she stopped, dressed, and minutes later emerged in what any casual observer would consider a return from a lazy walk. Lots of time. No way could Derek put his little lust nest together and get back to the truck in less than fifteen minutes.
She walked to the U-Haul and looked in the cab. The darned fool! In his haste he had left the keys. There on the floor was his overnighter and on top of it a briefcase belonging to the females. She opened the lid, curious. They didn't seem like briefcase types. A portable CB! The decision grabbed quickly. Maureen knew if she went back to the Marquis and drove on down the highway she probably would drive right out of their marriage. That was a laugh. Hadn't he just about declared himself out of it? And what was her mini-orgy the night before but her own declaration of independence?
Something had to give. For a reason she couldn't take time to define for herself, she didn't want to blow her marriage to Derek. She, loved the guy. And for all his betrayal, he had shown her enough for her to know he loved her.
She grabbed the keys to the Mere from her purse and hurried to where she had parked it, carefully backing to the U-Haul. There she proceeded to exchange her bag for Derek's, then put the Marquis's keys in their usual hiding place in the well beneath the ashtray.
A curious trucker watched the cute trick in the snug skirt climb into the cab of the U-Haul and slowly drive from the rest stop. He had pegged her for the one they'd all been talking about down the road from Murphy's. "One niner, do you read me good, buddy?"
There was no response. The moving van lumbered out onto the highway as the U-Haul disappeared over the next rise. For ten miles the eighteen wheeler hammered in pursuit of the red and gray truck, sure it was who he thought it was. But why had she dumped out of the pretty white Marquis and into the square-wheeled discomfort of the rent-a-truck? He remembered someone along I-75 talking about a guy tailing Lovelips in a rental. Supposed to be her husband and supposed to be a knockdown, drag-out domestic brawl. "Breaker one-niner, to little red riding hood in the do-it-yourself bucket-o'-bolts. Do you read? Come in, Lovelips, and make Hot Harry a happy man."
There was a sputter of electronic interference and then a sultry voice poured into the moving van cab. "Hot Harry, this is Lovelips. How'd you know it was me?"
"Vibes, pretty Lovelips. 'Sides, I'm your protector. Don't forget the chicken coop 'bout a mile ahead."
"Chicken coop? Say again, Hot Harry. I don't understand chicken coop."
"Weigh station, dummy! You go past that and you are one trucker in big trouble. This is Dalton, Georgia country. Smokeys dozin' on every danged curve."
"Stay by me, Hot Harry. I need you." A strange feeling of contentment settled over Maureen as she dropped the mike back into the case. She wondered what Arlene and Pandy and dear Derek were going to do when they found she had stolen their wheels.
"Follow me, Lovelips." The moving van purred past her up the incline to the weigh station and Maureen waved at the face smiling through the sideview mirror. Somehow it seemed possible the whole scene could still make sense. It better, fast. That much she knew. Even as she knew she was starving for a man between her legs again.
"Hot Harry... where you hot?"
"Where you hopin'."
CHAPTER SIX
"Breaker niner." The driver of the moving van waved as he passed the U-Haul. "Hey, Lovelips, Hot Harry here. You wanta tune in on the Wheeler Dealers in Jax tomorrow night?"
"I don't copy, Hot Harry. Who are the Wheeler Dealers? And what makes you think this heap can make Jacksonville?"
"You will The Wheelers are just an oversexed bunch o' road jockeys like me. Guess who's bein' initiated into the Jar chapter?"
"You. Wish I could be there, but I have a husband meeting me at Four Flags Hojo's in Atlanta."
Derek had been idly scanning the channels as he drove South. Mounting apprehension filled his thoughts. He had found the Marquis. He had listened to Arlene's description of the female who had intruded into the lakeside sex games with his two passengers. Easy to put it together from there. Maureen had seen. Maureen had left her own cute message, telling him to get lost, when she left the Marquis in exchange for the U-Haul.
Pandy and Arlene had been grateful he hadn't panicked when they reached the car. He'd driven them into town to get the garage help for their stranded car and they promised to watch for either the U-Haul or the Mercury when they were fixed and on their way again. Neither girl had minded the loss of their portable CB. "It'll give us a reason to come look you up in Miami." Arlene had been pensive as they parted. "I hope you two get back together."
So had Derek till he stumbled across that unmistakable voice transmitting on channel 19. Lovelips had to be Maureen. He wondered whether she had picked the handle or if her boyfriends in the semis had given it to her. He fingered the mike, playing with the notion of a remark to let her know she was being monitored by her husband. "Stupid!" He hooked the mike onto the set and shook his head at the near miss. It was time to keep a low profile and listen. She thought her pretense about not understanding CB stuff was believed. She probably also thought she'd gotten away with that blow job. How dumb could Maureen be. And how sweet those lips of hers had been.
The shiver traveled his spine. How dumb could they both be? Not much more than the point they'd reached. If there was any hope to get back to what they once had between them, he had to do some selling. Convince her he wasn't the swinging sonofabitch she'd seen there a few miles back.
"Hot Harry, how d'you know I might go to your Wheeler Dealer thing with you?"
"Your secret pal, Big John. He recommended I try, if I came across you. Wheeler Dealers are choosin' King o' the Road and his doll tomorrow in Jax. That's why I trailed you into that rest stop. Look, forget it." Harry sounded uptight. "You got things to do. Jus' wanted to invite you, if you were free. Over."
"If you're stuck for a girl, Harry, call HoTo's about eight. By then my man will be me man again or we're still in trouble. Page the dining room."
"Eighty-eights to you, Lovelips." The lights that framed the rear doors of the moving van flickered happily. "Gotta make some tracks. By the way, you looked right good takin' lunch by the lake."
A wild shiver raced through Maureen's back. "You were there?"
"Watchin' you every beautiful bit o' the way. Lucky bastard, whoever he was. Three gals on a guy. And Hot Harry with lots more than Big John to offer just had to hide behind a bush and beat a rat-a-tat on his tom-tom."
A shaken Derek heard the incredible words and felt his head swim at confirmation of Arlene's report and first clear proof of another guy.
Maureen was sure Harry could see her blush in his stare back through the side view mirror. "Didn't know I had an audience."
"Neither did your playmate. Over and out, Lovelips."
"Good numbers, Harry," she murmured into the mike, easing off on the accelerator to drop away from the mocking eyes watching in the mirror of the truck ahead. She felt an intense craving to see Derek. All at once their marriage and what was wrong with it felt like public property. Hoping against what seemed huge odds, she wondered if he would be at the Howard Johnson's as they had planned.
* * *
"You're telling me you switched the Merc for the truck just to tease and for the heck of driving that heap?" Derek's eyes were cool, unblinking steel.
She smiled with waning confidence and concentrated on the plate of the house specialty. Right then she wished she was a clam herself and not some dumb little bride making a wreck of her marriage. "I thought it would be fun to surprise you. If you were all that mad, you didn't do much about catching up to me. You had the wheels to do it, too."
He shrugged. Maureen couldn't have the foggiest notion that Arlene would describe the intruder in his fun and games. What was her reason for the cat and mouse? It was the one thing that kept him from working her over for her deceit, pretending not to know how to use a CB. He wondered where she'd hidden the briefcase with the portable unit that belonged to Arlene. One damned con job after another between them both and only the needle in him that she still loved him kept him from talking divorce' then and there. He felt the sting of wanting her. Had since they rendezvoused at Four Flags HoJo's. And he could want her to hell and back, but till what they had started in extramarital came to a crisis, there was no way they'd be really back together.
"Damned HoJo's been servin' the same stupid franks and beans from Year One." He scowled at his platter and when she concentrated on her dinner, not responding, he pushed his plate away and unfolded the Jacksonville newspaper.
"Mrs. DeMours." The page voice on the wall speaker was a dull monotone. "Phone call for Mrs. DeMours."
"Who the hell could that be?" Derek growled across the top of his paper without looking up from his reading.
"Probably Mommy." Maureen hoped it would sound nonchalant. "You know she had our over-night stops list."
"Mmmmhh. Say, hello for me." He engrossed himself in the sports page, ignoring her hurried departure from the table.
The dining room hostess motioned her toward the hall house phone and Maureen felt a frantic trembling low across her tummy, teasing a wild itch into an excited vulva. Tantalizing, impossible-to-stand quiver, reaching past sensitive labia into her vagina. Only Harry Whoever-He-Was knew, besides her mother, that she was there.
And in the few steps across the lobby to the house phone Maureen knew the reason for her sex want even for Harry Whoever-He-Was. He really wanted her. Her body. Her breasts. Her cunt. Every love-starved bit of her body was wanted by the voyeuring character in the moving van who called himself Hot Harry. She wondered if he really had more than Big John. But it wasn't size or heat that made her wish she was this very moment naked in the arms of Harry. It was his acceptance of her. Harry wanted her. In spite of the wanton wildness with another man before his eyes. He really wanted her.
"Hello." She was sure her voice cracked. "This is Mrs. DeMours."
"Hi, Lovelips."
"Where are your No need to ask who it was. Only Harry had that soft confidence in his basso profundo voice.
"Look over your left shoulder, first of the phone booths."
Her nipples itched furiously as she turned slowly toward the alcove where the pay-phone booths were located off the mainstream of traffic into the dining room. The cashier and hostess desk were out of view, but clearly visible was a corner of the dining room and the back of Derek's head. He was still studying the sports page intently.
Then the occupant of the only phone booth in use caught her eye. Tall, dark-haired, handsome. He gave a tiny salute when their eyes met. There was nothing arrogant or smart in his manner. If anything, Harry was a million miles from sure of himself.
"Had to stop and make one more try for tomorrow night," he said. "Look, the Wheeler Dealers are a very nice bunch of people. I gave the wrong idea when we were jabberin' on CB."
"No. Not at all." Her eyes were wide and wonder-filled as she stared at the man talking with her not twenty feet away. "But your King-o-The-Road and his doll contest sounds pretty crazy."
"I thought you got pretty turned off. That's why I had to try to sell you one more time. By the way, you are one gorgeous lady in that mini. What is it... a mini wraparound? You look even better in clothes."
"Stop it!" she hissed. "You'll make me blush. You mean I didn't look like one of your highway dress-for-sale types by the lake?"
"You? A loose woman? Hell, no! Want me to tell you what I think you are?"
"I'm not sure." She twisted to glance toward the dining room. Derek was unmoved at his paper. "I'll risk it."
"You are a very highly sexed, newly married girl. Your old man is being a chump. There just no way all that fantastic heat in that stacked chassis o' yours is goin' t' let you alone. That's why you need us Wheeler Dealers for a night " He broke off as his low voice reached that uptight level Maureen remembered in their CB exchange. "What's more... this King-o'-The-Road needs you for a night."
She had been staring at the wall, focusing on his words, rather than looking at him, but the intensity of his plea made her toss a glance over her shoulder toward his booth. "Harry! You're showing!" Maureen stared at the figure behind the glass door and he stood from the booth bench as she turned. His fist was filled with a bared and swollen erection! Someone will seep' she warned hoarsely.
"That's the idea." He stroked brazenly on the formidable shaft of his hardened flesh. "You're either King-o'-The-Road or chump-of-the-road on initiation night at Wheelers. This is all a chump is allowed to do while the other guys play with all the opposites in sight. If he comes alone, he plays alone."
A wave of wanting swept Maureen. The towering manliness of Harry with that bare white power in his hand was irresistible. She turned her back to the dining room to give Harry an open "view of her front while the hall from the motel lobby was empty. Her hand slipped to the lower flap of her wraparound and casually lifted. "Will you make this doll very happy, if I'm your doll for the initiation?"
"Oh, Lordy, you know it!"
Harry gaped at the sizzling sensuality exposed by her opened skirt. Panty hose of sheer nude gray accented the wealth beyond the white wrap-around. A dark pubic triangle was clearly visible through the nearly transparent nylon and her fingers rested briefly on the rise of her pudendum, drifting briefly to the shadowed valley of her crotch. Superbly tapered thighs disappearing into the fold of the skirt gave him a vision of exquisite legs with fantastic gripping power. She would be perfect.
"Beat off, Harry," she whispered into the phone. "Quick!" Her skirt slipped back into place as a couple approached down the hall toward the dining room. "Let me see how hot Harry is before I say yes.
"You'll see, Lovelips." His words were broken and when the hall was empty again she turned in happy disbelief.
Harry was puffing the booth door slowly open, leaning against the back wall and beckoning. "Come get a quick sample of the real thing."
"Can't." She watched helplessly as his masturbation strokes intensified. So near. So far. "You really are a nut!"
"S'why they cuh... call me Hot . Huh... oh, yeahhh." His hanky made it barely in time, covering the glans and capturing the ejaculation while his audience of one simply stared.
"Where's this Wheeler Dealer wingding?" she asked as he sagged back onto the booth bench and pulled the door closed.
"South of Jax on I-95 about four miles." He sounded vastly relieved and she thought frustratedly, why shouldn't he? "It's in the Manchester Movers warehouse."
A chord sounded distant but distinct in her head. Manchester Movers? "Do you know anybody with them?"
"Most everybody." He was closing his fly brazenly as he talked. "You know someone?"
"An older man named George someone... "
"Crewcut? Hell, he'll be there tomorrow night. Him and Sonny... and sonofagun! You gotta come now!"
"I'll try." She tossed a last look toward the booth as the door opened and a very conventionally put-together male stepped out. "You mean they'd make you fly solo all night, if you come alone?"
"That's the truth." Harry flipped the phone onto its cradle and moved out of the alcove. "Scuse me, ma'am," he apologized, brushing nonchalantly past her as he headed into the dining room.
* * *
It took exactly twenty-four hours and something over two hundred miles for her to finally decide to go. She only really made up her mind to turn in when the sign Manchester over the huge warehouse off I-95 caught her eye. During the day, loafing slowly southward in the Merc, which she had traded Derek for, she had listened to CB exchanges in trucker code that hinted of the wild plans for the night's meeting of the Wheeler Dealers. At least thirty rigs were parked in an orderly semicircle along the side of the big warehouse. In the lot at the end about as many cars were parked. "Girls of the guys," she speculated aloud.
"Help you, miss?" inquired the face at her window when she stopped at the fenced security gate.
"I was looking for Harry Wendover." She studied the expression of the elderly guard and wondered if he was aware of the nature of the proposed meeting somewhere inside the vast building.
"Door's down quite aways. Park your Mere and I'll run you over in my cart. Harry told me to be on the lookout for ya." A mystified Maureen followed the direction of the brown clad guard's finger when the electric golf cart stopped. "Up there," he said simply, leering knowledgeably.
She made her way to the little door to the right of the massive loading ramp and her light knock stirred hurrying feet beyond the door. A moment later she stepped into an unreal world of soft lights, thick carpeting, and curiously watching men and women. It was the last thing she expected to see in a massive old concrete warehouse.
"We've been hoping you would come," murmured the voice at her elbow and Maureen swung toward the speaker. The girl was an incredibly voluptuous platinum blonde, whose gown of silver sequins had the look of having been molded to her while she was nude. "You're Lovelips, aren't you? Harry's doll?"
It sounded strange, being anyone but Derek's doll. But that last night in Howard Johnson's with her husband had made her want to be almost anyone's but his. She smiled, nodding. "Who are you?"
"Your escort till-we meet the men. I'm Fran." The blonde giggled, catching her fingers and guiding her past smiling faces in an almost darkened room. "Wheeler Dealers," she said, waving airily at more new faces. "You'll meet them later." Fran's arm was casually familiar, resting across the sexy curve of Maureen's tail, fingers toying lightly at the sleek rounding of her hip where a snap holding the snug wraparound was located.
Strangely Maureen felt completely comfortable and unafraid when the dress was slipped from her shoulders. And comfort became a kind of confident female conceit when Fran led her, clad only in bra and parities, to a dimly lit platform. There, clustered around a throne like divan that had to be a century old, were half-a-dozen muscled males, every one of them naked and every one aroused. Maureen smiled, recognizing the central figure who obviously was the group's leader. Crewcut George hadn't changed a bit and neither had the unapologizing hard-on bolting urgently above his crossed thighs.
"This is to be Harry's doll .tonight, Fran?"' George gave no sign of recognition.
"So Harry says. She hasn't been, asked. Isn't she too beautiful?" Fran's fingers caressed lightly along the tumble of Maureen's dark hair, brushing it back across the satin perfection of her shoulder to give a rapt audience total view of her next step in readying the guest.
"You are Maureen DeMours? Mrs.. Derek DeMours?" George's stare was kindly but direct as he. asked the question.
"I am. And I would like to be Harry's doll tonight."
* * *
No one heard the door from the outer room open silently to admit Derek. He had parked the U-Haul with the line of monstrous vans and simply taken the chance he could walk in unchallenged. It was accidental perfect timing when all the members and their guests of the Wheeler Dealers were herding into the lounge to watch the welcome of Hot Harry into chapter membership. No one was guarding the door.
Derek had been in private torment for the whole drive from Atlanta to Jacksonville. Eaten by curiosity after watching the good-looking bastard come into the HoJo dining room right after Maureen came back from that phone call, Derek knew she was into a whole new ball game. Who had a better right, he wondered. Why she hadn't simply blown their marriage sky-high after her lakeside discovery of his infidelity, he'd never know. She couldn't love him, but she must. It was the only reason for her staying. And mostly, he knew he loved Maureen. They both had sailed to the edge of self-destructing their marriage. Somehow, some way, there had to be a way to win her back.
Over the CB airwaves of channel 19 he'd picked up the word of orgy brewing at Manchester Movers in Jacksonville. It was easy to find. It was even easier to get through the door. And now that he was in, tiny panic tremors sizzled through his body. He knew what he might find. Down at the far end parking lot of the warehouse he'd spotted the familiar white Marquis. She had to be inside. And his reaction to that bugged him. He fought the fright that made his throat dry and his hands wet. He knew he would likely find his Maureen in some form of sexual secretive behavior, else she would have casually mentioned a stop like this, in spite of the uptightness between them. If nothing was here she was ashamed of, then why keep silent about it?
That was the sweat. In his tumble of thoughts about all he knew of Maureen... about all the reasons he didn't want to lose her... he suddenly realized he had never yet seen her betray him. Girl-to-girl play was not betrayal and all the rest had been purely in his mind. The certainty impacted on him just as he slipped into the sensual luxury of the truckers' lounge in the warehouse. If he never had really seen her at sex with another guy, something told him he was now about to.
Distantly across the softly lighted room, he heard voices and saw guys and girls crowding through yet another door into a room .that seemed nearly blacked out. It was simple to mingle into the midst of the group where identities were dismissed and disrobing a stranger was much more interesting. A girl's voice, low and sultry at Derek's elbow, exclaimed in annoyance, "This darned bow!" Her face was abruptly directly before his, smiling invitingly. "Could you help me? My hair tangles into a mess when I pull off my sweater by myself."
"You alone?" he risked, when the bow came loose and the light and lovely blond hair spilled freely over bare shoulders.
"No... but you're first time." She matter-of-factly removed Derek's clothes from his body. "I'm George's girl. He's retiring King-o'-The-Road. So I need protection till he gets off his funny throne and back to me." Her eyes were solemn and staring as she studied Derek's limp state. "I ought to be safe with you. Honest, I think you're the only man in the place who's that way."
"First time here," he murmured, wondering what he could say that wouldn't give away that he was in intruder. "Us shy types come on slow. What's happening now?"
The blonde deposited his clothing on an upholstered chair and he made a mental note of the location, if he should have to run for it.
"Come with me." Her eyes assessed him calmly as they moved toward the raised dais. "Oh, you are so pretty. You know everyone will know you're a new road jockey. Your skin is so white."
"Hope they let me stay... Big John... He started to lie about his invite, then stopped: There with her back to him, standing next to a naked giant of a man and facing half-a-dozen of the horniest males Derek ever had seen, was his wife. He'd know Maureen anywhere.
And even as he felt the electricity of intimate recognition and the shudder of savage jealousy, that she was nude beside a naked man, he heard the incredible admission float back across her shoulder. "I would like to be Harry's doll tonight."
It was incredible to Derek. If his head was ready to hear or 'see almost anything, his heart wasn't. Here before him the girl who stood by his side only a month before and said she wanted to be Mrs. Derek DeMours was like this. The girl at Derek's side moved closer and he was only vaguely conscious of her hip pressed against his. Her hand drifted to his groin as they watched together.
"Mrs. Derek DeMours, you know what will happen if you serve as doll to our King-elect?"
Long dark hair moved across the sloping sexiness of her shoulders as Maureen nodded. "He... will ... . probably want ... . to... do things with me?" Her voice sounded very small and unsure to Derek.
"He will!" snapped the leader as he stood from the ancient couch. "So will many of us. For some wives that is too much. Tell me, Mrs. DeMours, will you commit adultery with all in this room?"
Derek saw a visible tremble ripple through the succulent loveliness of Maureen's body. "I love my husband." She said it softly and deliberately. "I would most of all love to have him see me take another man into my body. He has forgotten that most men are attracted to all of the women they love."
If he lived to be a thousand, Derek never would forget the proud sensual straightening of that superbly contoured figure as his wife turned. Body profiled to him, she raised her lovely arms to the hulking giant as he turned toward her. An outrageously grotesque cock jutted from Harry's groin, and when their bodies closed, Maureen squashed it in an impudent trap between them as she offered her lips to her host.
"Dance with our new King-o'-The-Road!" commanded George, but Derek hardly heard. He was filled with the devastating awareness that he had mounted a brimming hard-on as he watched his wife embrace another man. There was a tiny gasp of appreciation from the girl pressed intimately close to his side. He watched spellbound as her fingers clamped possessively around his cock barrel.
"Shy is gone," murmured the delighted blonde. "You are just beautiful. Can I try to give it more hard?"
"Anything," murmured Derek unhearing. His stare riveted on the pair weaving in a losing attempt to keep the tempo of hauntingly slow notes offered as dance music. It was plain both Maureen and Harry had an urgency for each other that was eating the last of self-control. She let hi in lead her the final few steps to the edge of a crimson-covered mat. He drew her across the edge of the cushioning under the tiny overhead light. It was clearly carefully arranged to let all see.
Ever so gently, Harry spread Maureen's legs. Her eyes were glazed with pure want of more as he crept between her knees. He lowered himself to rest his cheek on a smooth-skinned thigh and she could feel his stare burning into her most intimate place. Gentle fingers followed his stare, stroking the dark line of her cunt cleft.
He brushed slow kisses along the inner muscle of her thigh, lip-loving his way toward her maddened vagina; "then- deliberately bypassing it to move across her midriff to Maureen's agonized breasts, thrusting with want to be loved. For tortuous moments Harry nibbled and sucked taut nipples and she fought back the scream. An entranced husband cringed with the realization he never had really lip-loved his wife at all.
As Harry drew himself carefully across her body, supporting his weight on his elbows, she felt the hard pressure of his unyielding cock make a bold track across the taut plateau of her tummy. His lips were at her pubic mound and his tongue prowled. the hillock to the very edge of her cleft. Derek was sure' he would sweep her to coitus without kissing the cunt center. Once again he was wrong. Uncontrollably, Maureen urged her pelvis forward and she felt a warm tongue snake inside the wild passion pit of her vagina. "Ohhh, Harry, I've got to taste you."
She twisted against his hold on her hips and finally reached his maddened cock. At the instant his tongue found her clitoris, she forced the huge crown of his hot flesh into the dark oval of her mouth. Before Derek's eyes, Maureen and another man were one writhing bundle of flesh, tongue-probing each other to frantic distraction. The two were a scene of sheer animal need and the delight they found in the other's sex center was electrifying to watch. The hard fact of his gross ignorance of his bride's want tore at Derek. He remembered he had actually told her oral love was dirty. Now, acting on her most basic wants, Maureen was telling him what she thought of that stupidity of his.
The pair tore at each other in quest of the other's climax and as violently as the madness began, even more violent was the rapture that took them simultaneously. Buried far into the thighs of the other, neither could cry out as the paroxysm seized them.
"Come!" hissed the blonde who had adopted Derek's erection and dragged on it now to propel him toward the dais. "Let's get close to their action. I want my Georgie-baby to see what a treat I have till he get's back."
Terror was the only word for it as Derek let his unknown playmate lead him up the step and across the wide platform toward where Maureen and Harry and at least a dozen other couples were now involved on and off the huge mat. Little of the crimson spread could be seen as the center of love action became more and more congested with newcomers. But Derek knew that at any second Maureen would twist from her play with Harry and see him. And the whole ball game could be over.
"Take me... Harry, please take me!"
Her words smashed deep into Derek's thoughts and he watched Maureen arch to present the wanted target of her cunt center to another. It was finally, truly happening. He was about to watch his wife commit adultery. Weirdly, his head numbed with the sounds of ecstasy excitement on all sides, Derek watched like a spectator at a sideshow. The girl fingering his rampant cock flesh was whispering an invitation, but he never heard.
Maureen's playmate tantalized his thick prick glans just inside her yielding labia. "Damn you! You've got... please! I need all of you!" She squirmed against his thighs in a frenzy of impatience and suddenly the great cock was almost totally buried. "Yesss... oh, let me have you ... ." She rocked in frenzied coital urgency and her partner humped in feverish counterattack. "Good... good... Oh, my Godddd!"
Just as the full blast of her orgasm took her and just as the room around her was a blurred vision of faces and grappling bodies, one face was clear and sharply focused. Maureen stared incredulously at her husband. In one brief fleeting instant Derek saw a flurry of pain and want and love storm her expression. She screamed at the ceiling as the possessed male atop her writhing body thrust and thrust and thrust again.
And then the pair were one in climax. A seething, demanding finish that right at its height brought Maureen's wide-eyed stare back to her husband's face. "Ohhh... yes... Derek... Dear Derek, I need you!"
He wanted to charge from the trap of his self-appointed escort's arms. He wanted to shout joy to the heavens at the name she had screamed at the height of her coming. His name Maureen wanted him still. For one split second in time he simply stared back at the pleading in her eyes, then puckered a kiss and blew it across the short distance that separated them.
It was sudden and it was abrupt. Maureen unwound from the embrace. She eased to a half-sitting, half-sprawled position, resting her weight on her palms and surveying the room strangely quieted around her. She was altogether beautiful and a score of truckers who had counted on play with her watched as she crept across the mat toward Derek.
"Some of you aren't going to understand." She was at his side now, not looking at him. "I just had wonderful fun with a sweet man. I've had fun with some of you other crazy road jocks. No way I can pretend to be sorry. I really loved it. No way I can go on either, now that this man is here." Her fingers closed tightly on Derek's and squeezed. "If he'll have me, I want to go home. This is my husband."
A collective gasp rippled across the breadth of the room and all action froze as the crowd gaped at Derek. He shoved slowly to his feet, drawing Maureen with a gentle tug of the hand to kneel before him. His glance roved across the watching audience and then settled on the dark hair of the beautiful woman crouched and looking up his front. She was completely at ease as she stared at the groin directly before her, then reached to cup casually under. the dangle of cock and balls. Her glance traveled to his face and there was mischief in her eyes as he met her look.
"See, this gal's had a total louse for a husband. What's worse than a guy who tires to squash the want in this much woman?" He urged his pelvis slightly and the flaccid prick flopped lazily against his thighs. "To tell you the truth, I'm the one who's wonderin'. You suppose you would have me back?"
His hands gripped hers tenderly as he helped Maureen to her feet. His mouth was warm against hers and as they kissed, oblivious of all about them, he had her answer. Aware only of a storm of want that was filling both of them with a desire that bubbled new and deep, he ground close as his phallus shot upward.
"Want to leaver' he whispered in her ear, urging forward to let her feel his savage hardness.
"Don't care." She squirmed expectantly against his erection. "I really don't think I could go one step farther."
They wilted as one to the softness of the mat. The whispered delight of those around them was barely heard. Ever so slowly, easing his turbulent cock through clasping cunt flesh, Derek filled his Maureen with his need. Where it would go from there, neither asked and neither cared. Something like brand new had begun between them.
