The seething passions that lurk within many individuals are often hidden beneath a veneer of normalcy, exposed only under extremely trying and tempting conditions.
The woman who, after a few drinks at a party, takes on all comers, male and female alike. The man who, during the strip show at a stag party, climbs up on the stage with the girl and performs with her in front of his friends. The couple who, under group pressure, reluctantly joins the neighborhood wife-swappers.
Jane Conway, a prim and proper housewife, is one of these outwardly normal people. But within her a love of degradation and a desire to be debased and dominated lies coiled like a snake, waiting only for the proper stimulus to arouse it.
RAPED WIVES-a fictional story about a society that refuses to face many of its real problems.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Jane Conway was taking the books down from the top shelves and each time she rose up on her toes and stretched to reach a volume, her short skirt rode up so that the teardrop globes of her juicy ass could be seen. She wasn't aware of it and it didn't matter anyhow, because there was no one to see those delightful, heart-shaped mounds.
Mark, her husband, was outside, loading suitcases and boxes into the trunk of the car.
They were moving to New York City.
Mark's office had relocated him in the "big apple" and it meant a nice raise in pay and good opportunities for advancement. Mark and Jane were quite excited about it and looking forward to living in the big city. They Were a young couple who had only been married a few months and, although prospects for the future were bright, they didn't have a great deal of money.
That was why, instead of hiring a moving company, they were transporting their possessions in the car. Another young couple, John and Sandy Swan, had also been transferred. The Swans did not have a car and so it had been decided that they would share the expenses. Mark and John would drive down, with the car loaded to the gunnels with their combined possessions. This left no room for the women in the car and Jane and Sandy were going to fly down and look for suitable accommodations during the two days it would take their husbands to arrive by road. It had seemed the most logical way to get all four people and their stuff relocated. The only drawback was that they would have to spend a couple of days apart and, being horny young folk, that was a hardship. Still, it would only be for two days.
They had no idea what two days in New York could be like.
Now Mark was fitting boxes into the car like the pieces of a cubical jigsaw puzzle and Jane was showing plenty of juicy ass as she stretched up to the top shelves of the bookcase. She was sweating from her efforts and it made her glow very prettily. She was a pretty girl, anyhow. She had honey-blonde hair and blue eyes and a proverbial brick shithouse of a body. Her tits were big and firm, like inflated balloons that had been blown up by the taut valves of her nipples. Her waist was narrow. Her hips were pneumatic and her belly nubile. It was the sort of body that caused strangers to leer and friends to wish ardently that the Con-ways had been exponents of wife-swapping- which they were not. Men got thundering hard-ons when they saw her; lesbians drooled; old men, impotent for eons, felt evocative quiverings in their atrophied pricks and very young boys wished they were old enough to fuck.
Jane was faithful to Mark.
She hadn't been to New York yet.
* * *
Now Mark came into the house, wiping his forehead on the back of his hand, to fetch another load of luggage.
He stepped into the front room just as Jane stretched up to the very top of the bookcase.
Mark forgot about a load of luggage as his loins filled up with the luggage of lust. His cock swelled up like a big moving van, ready to transport that liquid baggage, and his balls expanded like overstuffed duffel bags.
Mark was an ass-man and whenever he saw his wife's lovely bottom he was greatly affected-especially when, as now, he caught a glimpse of it by accident.
She was wearing red bikini panties that were drawn so tightly across her pelvis that it looked as if her ass were the missile in the pouch of a slingshot.
Mark decided that packing the car could wait while his pecker did some packing of its own.
Grinning, he moved across the room.
Coming up behind Jane he quickly released his stiff cock from his fly.
He ran both hands up her skirt and gripped her ass firmly.
Jane looked over her shoulder, startled. "Oh Mark, not now, we must get the packing done," she said.
Mark tugged at her tight little panties and pulled them down around her ankles. Then he pulled her skirt up and moved in, rubbing his prick against her ass.
"Mmmmm," said Jane, "if you put it like that, I guess maybe we do have time."
She squirmed back onto his dick and then reached around and wrapped her hand around the throbbing dong.
Mark stroked her cunt, running his fingers along her moist crack and then stuck his middle finger up into her hole. Jane gyrated her lush hips, working her cunt around on his finger, then Mark lowered his knees and his cockhead slid down her ass and nuzzled into her crotch.
Mark stroked her cunt, running his fingers along her moist crack and then stuck his middle finger up into her hole. Jane gyrated her lush hips, working her cunt around on his finger, then Mark lowered his knees and his cockhead slid down her ass and nuzzled into her crotch.
Mark bent his knees more, until his cock was below her crotch, angled up with just the tip buried between her creamy cunt lips. He grabbed her by the hipbones and pushed his prick into her eager slot, running the full length up her cunt in the first powerful stroke.
"Ooooh," said Jane as she felt her cunt fill with rock-hard pecker.
Her pussy squeezed and clutched at his rod and sucked at his bloated knob.
They stood still for a moment locked together to the fullest penetration, savoring the thrill. Then Jane began to squirm down and back until his swollen balls were jammed between her legs.
Mark began to feed his cock in and out of her with long, slow, luxurious strokes.
Jane held on to the bookshelves for support and began bouncing her ass in and out, meeting him thrust for thrust. They fell into a steady fucking rhythm.
Mark swiveled his hips in, screwing his rampant prick into her hot squelching pussy, his lean belly slapping her ass and his heavily laden balls swinging between her legs.
Jane ground her hips as he plunged in. Her twat clung and pulled as though to drag him in to the very depths of her burning loins and therein milk his great throbbing dick. Her cream-filled hole fitted itself tightly to every inch of his dork and rippled along its length.
Mark reached around to the front and clutched her pussy, kneading at her plump cunt lips in rhythm with his lunges.
Jane moaned with lust. She was ready to come.
Mark plowed into her mightily, stuffing his big dick up her cunt with increasing power.
Jane whimpered with passion and writhed on his cock, her whole body crying out for his hot meat.
"Oh! Oh!" she cried. "Come... come now, darling!"
Mark felt her burning pussy melt around his cock and her cunt juice flooding over his prick in a hot torrent.
His cockhead expanded deep within her. Grimacing and contorting his face with lust, he drove his pecker up her cunt and rode furiously on to his own climax.
Howling like a wolf, he shot his wad.
His thick cream tore from his cockhead and slammed into her womb as he jammed his cock in to the roots. He stiffened, drew back and banged in again as he poured a second cuntful of hot jism into her juice-filled hole.
Jane humped her ass up and down, working off the terminal spasms of her own orgasm, her pussy gripping his exploding prick and wringing the cum from his knob.
Mark grunted as his loins emptied. His knees had turned to water. He clung to Jane and she clung to the bookcase, a contented smile on her face. He kissed her neck. She snuggled back against him and, before the bookcase, they stood together like two bookends supporting a volume of satiation. After a while they started packing again.
* * *
"It'll never fit in the car," Sandy Swan said as she gazed at the stacked boxes that contained all their moveable worldly possessions. Neither the Conways nor the Swans owned furniture but they had a fair amount of clothing, books, and all the various accumulation of a furnished home.
"Mark bought a big luggage rack," John said, but he was a bit dubious, himself. He hadn't realized they owned so much until it was all assembled together.
They were finished packing and relaxing now with a couple of martinis which, the cocktail shaker and glasses being packed away, John had mixed in a jam jar and poured into cups. Sandy sat with her legs crossed. They were long legs. Sandy was a dark-haired girl with languid brown eyes and a tall, willowy body. She had studied dancing once and her legs manifested that very nicely. She was not as sexy as Jane Conway, in the bouncy, ultra-female fashion, but she was firm and lean and lithe and to the practiced eye of a connoisseur she looked like the sort of woman who, once aroused, would tear a man apart in bed.
She tore John apart with regularity.
She was not too happy at the thought that they would be spending two days apart, either, for she liked to have sex at least once a day-a frequency well in accord with John's taste.
She was feeling comfortably horny at the moment.
She sipped at her martini and gazed speculatively at her husband over the rim of the cup. She smiled.
Sandy was a very direct sort of girl.
"Want a blow-job?" she asked.
John blinked. The last thing on his mind, at the moment, had been a blow-job. He had been thinking about the trip ahead and the prospect of living in New York and furthering his career. Yet, the moment she mentioned it, his dick gave a lurch. All other thoughts and considerations fled and, like some Platonic ideal in heaven, the concept of a blow-job filled his awareness, like the template from which all earthly blow-jobs had been stamped.
He gave her a slow smile.
"Well, I've never yet turned one down," he said.
Sandy was well aware of that. In fact, he was always badgering her to give him some head. Most of the time, Sandy preferred to fuck, but right now she was in the mood to do some sucking. She got that way, sometimes, and when she did nothing would satisfy her but a mouthful of hot cockmeat.
She got up and crossed to where he was sitting.
The front of his trousers shifted as his pecker jolted up from a dormant state to a rampant tower. Sandy loved to watch his cock get hard, even when it was secreted in his pants. It was nice to know that she could so easily have that effect on him, with no more than a few words-although, to be sure, the words had been of a stimulating nature.
She curled up on the floor before him, resting on her flank. She was wearing jeans and a tee shirt. Her nipples thrust out in twin points as they stiffened under the cotton shirt. She still had the martini cup in her hand and she took a sip, eyeing his bulging crotch with expectation.
"What an unexpected treat," he said.
"I feel like it," she said, which was rather an obvious thing to say under the circumstances. "Don't come too fast," she added. "I feel like sucking for a long time."
She held the martini in her left hand. With her right hand she reached out and cupped his crotch. Her palm slid along his distended cock tracing the contours through his pants, then slid in and cupped his balls, lifting, as if she were weighing the extent of his desire, estimating the volume of the load of spunk that his scrotum contained.
John sighed happily and pushed his legs out, parted, so that they formed a vee around her.
She was in no hurry.
She took another sip. She was feeling very erotic, very naughty. She said: "Two whole days, we'll be apart. Whatever will I do if I get the urge to suck a cock while I'm in New York?"
"Don't you dare!" he said, but his prick gave a mighty jolt as her words inspired him. Sandy didn't cheat on him, as far as he knew-but she often teased him by mentioning infidelity, knowing that a touch of jealousy was a most effective aphrodisiac.
"Not even one little cock? Just a tiny one?"
"Wanton bitch," he said, with affection.
Sandy took the clasp of his zipper in her fingers and began to pull it slowly down. She drew it down a couple of inches, then drew it back up an inch; opened his fly slowly, retreating back up but going just a bit lower each time.
"I imagine the men in New York will be after Jane and I like dogs in heat," she said. "I do hope that we can fight them off, Johnny. But I don't know... " That was right. She was only teasing John.
She didn't know at all.
Now she drew his zipper down all the way. His fly gaped open but his cock was still trapped in his underwear, writhing as it struggled to snap free.
She unbuckled his belt.
The front of his pants opened in a wedge. His shorts were bulging with the burden they contained, dragging the elastic band out from his belly.
She placed her hand on his cock and squeezed.
She paused to take another sip of martini.
Then she pulled his shorts out and down and his cock was freed. It was a big cock, capped with a mushroom-shaped knob. The vein up the ventral shaft was pounding and the head flared out like a hooded cobra ready to strike.
"Ummmm," she said as she gazed at this big taste treat.
She began to run her fingertips very lightly up the underside of his stalk and across the swollen head, tracing along the vein and over the cleft tip.
Her tongue came out, gliding across her lower lip. Her mouth was watering for cock. But she was still in no hurry. The delicacy was on the table and she could eat it at her leisure. She sipped at the martini again, enjoying a cocktail before the meal. Her tastebuds tingled. She was going to savor a nice, long meat course, followed by a creamy dessert.
She folded her fist around the root of his dick and gave it a slow push-pull. The fat rod expanded in her palm and the knob flared and darkened. She stroked him again. His big dick began to thunder. The head was glowing like an incandescent light bulb; she wouldn't have been surprised if that meaty slab had suddenly started to smoke.
She leaned closer.
Her tongue came up, sweeping across her lips a couple of times and then arching, flicking at the air, the hot tip lapping an inch from his cockhead.
John groaned as, looking down, he saw that pink lingual caresser hovering so close to his prick.
Sandy touched the tip of her tongue against the underside of his cockhead, tapping lightly and then drawing back, teasing and tantalizing.
She was teasing herself too, flirting with the dick for which she hungered.
Her tongue tapped him again, but this time instead of just touching the tip of her tongue to his knob, she flattened it and gave the ventral surface of that purple slab a long slurp.
Again she drew back, smacking her lips as she savored the musky taste of cockmeat and then leaning in and tilting her head sideways, she began to tongue his balls.
John's cock, left unattended, bucked and thundered furiously as she swept her tongue all over his bloated scrotum, licking the hairy sac, lifting the bag to run her tongue underneath, feeling the hard nuts jiggle inside the loose, wrinkled skin. She parted her lips and sucked avidly on his balls, filling her mouth with the succulent meat.
She began to lick up his stalk.
She went up slowly, her tongue crisscrossing back and forth up the sleek hard rod.
When she came to the knob, she paused, tongue fluttering, then lapped back down to the root again. She rose back up his cock, this time taking long fluttering slurps that swept up his cock from hilt to head. Then she turned her head to the side. Fitting her lips to the base of his shaft, she began to run her mouth up and down his stalk as if she were playing a flute.
John gasped with lust; a solitary nugget of preliminary spunk squeezed from the tip of his cock, coming out of the gaping cleft like a blob of quicksilver.
Sandy drew back, her eyes glued to his seeping cockhead, then she pushed her tongue out and gathered up the scum drop nimbly onto her tastebuds. She let the tasty blob run back and forth on her tongue, sampling it like a wine-taster sampling a rare vintage. Then she let it run down her throat.
It warmed her belly like a shot of brandy.
It warmed her cunt, too.
She lowered her face. This time she fitted her pursed lips to the blunt tip of his dick, caressing the hot tip with her lips.
She let her lips part very slowly and, millimeter by millimeter she took him into her mouth.
Her lips opened like the petals of a flower, sliding down over his bulging cockhead until her lips reached the ledge behind his knob.
Her lips clamped firmly closed, his whole big meaty cockhead in her mouth, her lips like a snug collar behind the knob and the rest of his long, vibrant rod standing out like a bolt that was fixing her head to his balls. She sucked.
Her cheeks hollowed in until both cheeks were pressed against his cockhead, pulling at the meaty mouthful. Then she began to take more of his cock into her mouth, her lips descending the stalk.
She went halfway down the fat stalk and paused, adjusting her mouth to the bulk and then, slid down another inch-and another. Slowly she moved on down, steadily descending his stalk. She used all of her mouth as she went down on him, her lips dragged on his stalk, her cheeks pulled at his cockhead, her tongue extended and then curled up like a pliable utensil, forking dick into her gullet. Even her teeth helped, nibbling ever so gently as she fed herself on prick. ; She was almost down to the root. Only about an inch of broad shaft remained in the air, his cockhead jammed into her throat.
Sandy slammed her head down. Her face buried itself flat to his belly and loins and she buried every inch of his prick into her mouth and throat.
She gagged as the meaty wedge filled her gullet, but she held the penetration within her head.
Now she set out to suck him off.
She clutched his balls in one hand, gently but firmly, and began to slide her lips up and down his fat pole, squeezing his balls tenderly each time her mouth pushed down and releasing them as she drew back up this towering cock.
Her head went up and down as if she were ducking for apples in a barrel, bobbing with a steady rhythm. She sucked as she descended and slurped as she rose back up to the top of his spike. Her lips were fitted like a scabbard to his long contours. Her tongue flashed back and forth and across the underside of his dick as she rose up, then flattened and formed a soft, moist lingual road over which his steaming cockhead could slide in as it pushed back into her throat.
John began to jolt his hips up and down, so that he was fucking into her mouth, pushing up as her head came down, then pulling away as she disgorged the meaty mouthful. He humped on, keeping pace with the rise and fall of her head as she avidly slurped away at his sturdy pecker.
His dick was steadily expanding now, his balls ballooning, as her eager lips and nimble tongue and loving mouth brought him towards the heights, stroke by stroke.
Sandy squeezed his scrotum as if to press the spunk from his balls by the gentle pressure, forcing the carnal sap up the long trunk of his phallic tree.
John began to shake violently; his legs seemed to have turned to water, his belly was a maelstrom of swirling lust and his mind was fogged by passion, rising like steam to cloud all else from his thoughts.
"Honey... I'm... gonna... come... " he moaned.
Sandy sighed, ducking her head far down his stalk, her tongue coiling and lashing.
She began to bob up and down faster, knowing that he was at the point of feeding her with his hot spunk. She purred with the joy of expectation, her mouth watered, the saliva pouring down his shaft as her head sucked upwards.
His hands pressed on the back of her head.
She knew he was ready to blow. She felt his balls explode in her hand. She drove her head far down so that all of his cock was in her mouth, just as his first hot geyser spurted from his swollen knob and washed her throat with the savory oil.
"Ahhh," she gasped.
She drew back, slurping, and held steady with just the head of his dick in her mouth as his second wad shot out. Her mouth was filled to overflowing with his delicious cream. She gulped it down greedily. Ribbons of creamy joyjuice ran from her unfurled lips and poured down his stalk. Her head went right down after them, sucking them back into her mouth and taking his third powerful jet in a spurt that skimmed over her tongue, hit the roof of her mouth, then flooded down into her throat, washing over her tonsils.
Drained, John slumped back into the chair.
Sandy continued to suck on the head of his dick until it began to soften and shrink and she milked every drop of his precious spunk out.
At last she pulled away from him, sighing with satisfaction.
"Mmm, that hit the spot," she said. "I guess that should hold me until we meet up in New York... I hope so... "
"I hope so, too, you bitch," said John.
"Two days is a long time... " she said, teasing.
He rolled his eyes, feigning fury; they both laughed. They had no idea how long two days could seem.
* * *
John and Sandy had been married just over a year-twice as long as Mark and Jane, but not long. Sandy often teased him about other men but that was all it was-teasing him. She had never been unfaithful to John and did not intend to be. Nevertheless, in teasing him that way, Sandy titillated herself at the same time, for she found the idea of cheating on her husband-in theory-a very erotic and exciting fantasy. She never for a moment supposed that she ever would. Not really.
But they had never been separated before.
* * *
Perhaps it was perfectly natural for a woman to speculate about the thrill of indiscretion, as well, for Jane Conway often excited herself with similar thoughts of furtive love affairs and torrid sexual adventures with strangers. It was all just harmless self-titillation, certainly; even more than Sandy, Jane knew that she would never be unfaithful to her husband.
Her erotic fantasies were so secret that she did not even tell her good friend, Sandy, about them.
But Jane and Mark, too, had never been separated.
* * *
And so, packing, fucking and sucking, the Conways and the Swans prepared to move to New York. Despite the fucking and sucking, the packing got done. In the morning, Mark and Jane picked up Sandy. Both girls were taking all the luggage that they could manage on the airplane, because the car was going to be chock-a-block full. They both had two large suitcases and hand luggage. There was no room in the car for John, who stayed home, and both women had to crowd into the front seat with Mark.
He drove them to the airport.
Mark returned to the Swan apartment where he and John loaded the rest of the gear into the car and set off without further delay.
John said, "I hope the girls will be okay."
"Of course they will," said Mark.
Why shouldn't they be?
CHAPTER TWO
Neither Jane nor Sandy had done much traveling and when they deplaned at New York they were amazed and awed by the size of the airport. They wandered around for a while, burdened by their luggage so that they had to halt every few minutes to rest. They felt like Okies fleeing the dust bowl, with their suitcases stacked around them; it brought to reality what a vast difference had been made in their lives, moving to New York, where even the airport seemed bigger than their home town. Their husbands had told them to go directly to Manhattan-for they had a horror of getting stuck on Long Island-but that was easier said than done. The girls had no idea where to find a bus and figured that a taxi would cost them a fortune. They both had quite a bit of cash and several credit cards but saw no reason to squander it on a taxi. They decided to inquire about a bus and, with that in mind, went up to one of the bars snuggled along the edge of the corridor.
They needed a drink by this time. The bartender, a supercilious fellow, seemed to hesitate before he reluctantly agreed to give them martinis. This embarrassed the girls. They figured that it was probably gauche to drink martinis in New York. There was so much to learn.
Instead of learning new things, they should have remembered a thing that they, as small-town girls, had always known-that they should avoid strange men.
Jane asked the bartender where they could find a bus that would take them to Manhattan.
He shrugged.
They felt quite lost and confused.
"This was a shitty idea," Jane said. "We never should have come on ahead of Mark and John."
"We'd better take a cab," Sandy said. "We don't even know where to find a cab." Sandy asked the bartender about taxis. He rolled his eyes and turned his back. He knew that if he cowed them they would leave a larger tip. He was a surly fellow who hated his job. He wanted to be a headwaiter.
Not knowing what else to do, the girls had a second drink.
They started to feel a bit more relaxed as the gin did its soothing work on their nerves.
"What we ought to do is vamp some guy," Sandy suggested.
She was smiling but sounded half-serious.
She said, "We may be hicks, but we're still sexy; I guess we could get a ride, huh?"
"Our husbands would hate that."
"If they knew."
"Oh, you are naughty."
Sandy laughed.
Two young men came up to the bar. They had long hair and wore jeans and tank top shirts. One had a tattoo on his forearm and the other had an earring in one ear. They ordered beer, much to the disdain of the bartender, who knew damn well he was not going to get a tip from them.
They regarded the girls.
Sandy and Jane ignored them.
"Maybe we can ask a cop," Jane said.
"Oh Jesus, lady, don't do that," the young man with the earring said, looking horrified.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Don't ask a cop."
"You don't know what we're talking about, how can you say a thing like that?" Sandy said.
"Don't matter. You never ask a cop nothing," he said. "The minute you give a cop a chance, he'll search you. That's right. Sexy girls like you, he'll give you a body search."
The girls looked startled. Then, realizing that he must be joking, they laughed.
Despite his long hair, he was a pleasant-looking young man with a friendly smile.
Sandy said, "We're from out of town."
"I'd never have guessed."
"We want to get into Manhattan and don't know where to find a bus or a taxi."
"That's a coincidence," he said. "We're going on into the city, ourselves. We can give you a ride."
Jane and Sandy looked at one another.
Jane said, "We're married."
The man looked amused.
"I only offered you a ride, lady."
"Well... all right."
"It's very kind of you," Sandy added.
The girls knew it wasn't quite seemly to accept a lift from strangers-especially strangers with long hair and earrings and tattoos-but it was a solution to their confusion and, after all, what harm could it do? The worst thing that could happen would be that the guys would try to seduce them-and would, of course, fail.
They introduced themselves.
The man with the earring said his name was Sundance.
The man with the tattoo called himself Butch.
They finished their drinks. Jane paid. When she opened her handbag, Sundance and Butch made a point of paying no. attention to the contents. The martinis cost three times as much as they were used to paying at home. Jane counted her change and left a dollar on the bar. The bartender looked dismayed. She put a second dollar down with it. He shrugged. Sundance paid for the beers and put all the change in his pocket. Then he scooped up the tip that Jane had left and put that in his pocket.
"Hey!" the bartender said.
"Smuck," Sundance said.
To Jane, he said, "You don't want to tip smucks."
"Oh," she said.
She hadn't known that. In fact, she wasn't sure just what a smuck was. She knew that she would have to look it up in the dictionary so that she would know when not to leave a tip in the future. It occurred to her that Sundance had not returned the money to her but she said nothing.
The long-haired fellows helped them with the luggage and they went out to the parking lot.
"What weird guys," Sandy said.
"I wonder if they live in this van?"
There were no windows in the back and the girls had no idea where they were going. The van speeded up and they heard traffic around them. They drove for quite a while. Then they no longer heard any traffic. That seemed strange. They would have supposed that traffic would increase as they came into the city. The bumps became more pronounced, as if they were a rough road. Then the van stopped.
Sandy opened the back doors.
They were parked in a sandy stretch and she could see the ocean off to the side. It didn't look like Manhattan to her. She looked around for the Empire State Building.
"Where in hell are we?" she asked.
"Maybe we broke down?"
"Something is damned funny here." Sundance and Butch came around to the back. They were both grinning. "What's going on?" Sandy asked. "Smucks," he said.
"What... where are we? What... "
"We're gonna rob you, lady."
"And rape you," added Butch.
Sandy and Jane looked at each other. This couldn't possibly be happening. A sense of unreality came over them.
"Man, are you girls dumb," Sundance said. "Hicks. You ought to have known, just looking at us, that we was rapists."
"And robbers," Butch said.
"This is a joke, huh?" Sandy said.
"You're the jokes," said Sundance, and he snatched Sandy's handbag from her. She stared at him. She looked at Jane. Jane shook her head. Sundance was going through her bag. He counted the money, nodding like a bartender satisfied with a tip. He opened her wallet and looked at the credit cards.
Butch held his hand out.
Jane clutched her handbag.
"Give it over, girl. No sense in making this harder on yourself, right? We don't want to hurt you."
"Don't want to torture you," Sundance said.
"Or kill you. Unless we have to."
"Although it's kind of fun to torture girls, at that," said Sundance. "Nice to hear 'em squeal and watch 'em squirm."
Jane gave Butch her bag.
Butch took both handbags and put them in the cab. Sundance was blocking the door.
Sandy said, "Okay, you bastards. You've got our money. You can drive off and leave us now."
"Got to rape you, first." Butch came back.
"Which one you want to fuck?" Sundance said.
"I want the dark one."
"Okay, I'll screw the blonde."
They got in the van. The girls crawled back on the mattresses, terrified, still not believing that this was happening. Butch opened his jeans and lowered them. He wore no underwear. His cock stuck out in a coil, not quite hard. Jane and Sandy stared at it like birds staring at a serpent.
He wrapped his fist around his dick and began to pull it up and down with quick strokes.
It hardened and rose up, the knob flaring. He gazed down at his peckerhead, looking satisfied.
"Okay, get your pants off," he said.
Sandy shook her head.
He said, "You can make it easy on yourself. If you don't, I'll have to hurt you."
Sundance slid up next to Jane. He put his arm around her.
"We'll watch," he said. "Get us in the mood."
Butch was thrusting his cock out towards Sandy.
He said, "Make up your fucking mind. I can stick my dick in you or I can stick a knife in you."
Sandy's face tightened up. She looked at Jane. Jane was more frightened than Sandy, or showed it more.
"Ah, shit," Sandy said.
And to Jane's amazement, Sandy pulled her dress up and pushed her panties down.
"That's smart," said Butch.
Sandy leaned back on her elbows, her crotch bared. Her thighs were parted. Her cunt mound was a broad wedge of dark curly pubic hair and her pink slit was parted. Her clit was stiff. Jane was amazed to see this. It was almost as if her friend had become sexually aroused.
"Get it over with, then," she said.
Butch knelt between her legs. His dick loomed out over her belly, the knob throbbing. Sandy was looking at that pulsating peckerhead and she could not hide the interest in her expression. A flicker of a smile passed over her hips.
"I've never been raped before," she said. "I always wondered what it would be like." She smiled wickedly then. "It's too bad you have such a tiny cock, though."
Butch glowered and Sundance chuckled.
Jane saw what her friend was trying to do- she thought. She wasn't sure, though, because Sandy's pussy certainly looked as if it were excited.
Butch fitted his cockhead into Sandy's slot.
He pushed, slipping the whole thing up her on the first long stroke.
"Are you in?" Sandy asked. "I can't feel it."
"You got a sloppy cunt," he rasped. "It's tight enough for a normal-sized cock."
"Bitch!"
Sandy tried to look bored.
"C'mon, get it over with," she said. Butch pulled back until only his knob was in her box, then slammed in hard, grunting. "What a bore," Sandy said. She faked a yawn.
Butch began to ram the cock to her furiously. His bloated balls swung in, slapping against her ass; his belly whacked against hers. He was grimacing and snorting.
Jane could see his fat cock vanish up Sandy's hole.
She saw a trickle of cunt juice run down Sandy's crotch, into the crack of her ass.
And then Sandy could no longer keep up the pretense.
She certainly hadn't wanted to be raped but it was true that she had often wondered what it would be like.
And it was not true that Butch had a small pecker.
And as he poured the pork to her, Sandy began to tremble. She started to pant. Jane, amazed, realized that her friend was actually enjoying it! She saw Sandy's face change, the feigned boredom ebbing away, replaced by a look of animal lust. Jane gasped and closed her eyes, ashamed to witness her friend's disgrace. But then she opened her eyes again, immediately, fascinated by the sight.
Sandy's long, muscular thighs rippled.
She arched her back; her legs clamped around Butch's heaving flanks and her arms went around his shoulders.
"Fuck," she said. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She voiced the word each time he plunged up her cunt.
She was moving with him now, meeting him thrust for thrust. As he slammed his dong up her, she pushed her pelvis down hard; as he withdrew, she rolled her hips. Her pussy was clutching him in a tight sheath, wringing and milking on his pecker.
This can't be! Jane thought.
Then she thought: And I'm next!
Along with her horror, Jane felt a growing excitement, a dark expectation. Would she, too, enjoy it, as Sandy was? And Sandy was definitely enjoying it, there was no doubt about that. The girl might have been faking her expression, her words, even her labored breathing, but there was no way she could fake the way her cunt was responding to his strokes. Her whole crotch was flooded with cunt juice and her cunt lips were sucking on his stalk. Her lithe body undulated under the man, squirming and wriggling.
Jane suddenly realized that her hand was resting on Sundance's swollen crotch.
He must have placed it there, she thought; it certainly wouldn't have drifted there of its own accord.
She thought that she should snatch her hand away.
But his cock felt huge and hard and vibrant and, rationalizing, she thought: I mustn't make him angry...
She squeezed gently. Sundance sighed.
"Take it out," he whispered.
Well, of course, Jane did not want to do that. But she knew she must not anger the man. It was better to be raped than to be tortured or killed.
She unzipped his fly.
Like Butch, he wore no underwear. As his fly opened his dick came charging out like a bull into the ring, looking for soft flesh to hook on that big horn.
Jane glanced down. She caught her breath. He had a monstrous prick, a huge thick stalk capped by a bulbous crown that was pulsing spasmodically. The knob was an angry red and the cleft, eager to spit, was gaping open.
Jane folded her fist around the root.
Her small hand could barely span that great girth.
She began to stroke him slowly up and down. She was thinking that maybe she could trick him; that she might be able to jerk him off, dispelling his passion without getting raped.
"Your friend loves it," he rasped.
Jane and Sundance stared at the coupling couple and there was no doubt whatsoever that Sandy was taking pleasure in being plundered. Her whole body was vibrating. Her eyes were narrowed with lust, her lips were parted, her pelvis danced to his strokes.
She whimpered.
"Come," she gasped. "Come in me... come with me... " Butch slammed in with vigor, grunting and moaning. His big plunger filled her snatch, forcing a mist of cunt juice from her. She began to cry out, wordless gasps of pure lust. Her back arched and she rippled under him as he whanged his dick home with furious energy.
Suddenly Butch stiffened.
His balls exploded and he blew a thick wad of hot spunk up her cunt, his ass bouncing on the recoil.
Sandy's twat melted around him, her cunt juice gushing out to blend with his spunk.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she cried, each gasp punctuating another spasm of her climax.
He heaved the prong to her and blasted a second hot stream into her loins, then yet a third.
He slumped over her.
Sandy continued to grind her loins against him as she pumped out her orgasm to the dregs.
She was smiling.
Jane's eyes were fixed on her shameless friend and her hand was clamped around Sundance's stalk, pumping up and down from hilt to cockhead with a steady rhythm designed to bring him to a climax. He had been observing Sandy and Butch with such total concentration that he seemed unaware of the fact that Jane was trying to jerk him off as the lesser of two evils. But now that Butch had shot his wad, Sundance turned his face to the blonde.
"It's your turn," he said.
"No," she gasped.
Her hand flew up and down relentlessly. She could feel his shaft expand in her grip and his cockhead was starting to glow with readiness.
Sundance caught her wrist.
Jane looked into his face, pleadingly.
"So you want to jerk me off, huh?" he said.
"Yes! Let me jerk you off... " He released her wrist. Jane began to pump him again, her fist speeding up and down his big rod. She looked down, fascinated, watching the head of his prick flush and flare.
"Come this way!" she squealed, still hoping to use the handjob to save herself from being raped.
"Yeah!" he snorted.
He placed his hand behind her head and pushed her face down. His cockhead towered just under her chin.
"Oh! No!" she wailed.
"Yeah, you can jerk me off," he snarled. "In your mouth!"
He pushed harder.
His bloated peckerhead nuzzled against her lips.
Jane realized that she had been hoist by her own petard!
Which was worse, she wondered-to be raped in the cunt or in the mouth?
But the decision had been taken out of her hands, although her hand was still skimming up and down his stalk.
Sundance was pushing her head down and ramming his cock up into her face. She held her lips compressed, refusing to take it into her mouth. She might still avoid it, although it meant getting a faceful of spunk.
His hand tightened in her hair.
"Suck it," he snarled.
Jane rolled her eyes.
Sandy was looking at her! Sandy looked fascinated. Jane stared back at her friend. And her lips parted.
She didn't consciously will her mouth to open. It just did. Her lips parted around the tip of his cock, slowly sliding down the meaty slab.
"Ahhh," he sighed as his cockhead slid into her hot mouth.
Jane was stunned as she realized that she actually had a mouthful of hot cockhead. She had slurped it in-not willing, but automatically, as if, presented with a pecker, she just naturally began to suck on it. Her cheeks hollowed in as she sucked. Her tongue began to glide around against the underside of that smoldering wedge of cockmeat.
Her hand was still stroking.
Now her head began to bob up and down on his dick. Her pursed lips pushed down, meeting her index finger and thumb, then dragged up to the knob while her hand stroked down to his balls.
Her eyes met Sandy's gaze, challengingly. Sandy was grinning!
I'm not enjoying this! Jane told herself, desperately. I'm only sucking him off so he won't rape me! I don't really love the taste of his big, hot cock... I'm not really thrilled at the way that huge cockhead is filling my mouth... I don't want to drink all his lovely, hot, thick cum...
Sundance moaned with pleasure.
His hand moved away from the back of her head and there was no reason why she could not pull her mouth away from his dick now, but she didn't. She was taking his knob right back into her throat now, slurping and sucking through every inch. Her hand had stopped pumping. She held his stalk at the hilt, steadying it but not stroking as her mouth did the job.
His legs were extended in front of him. His thighs began to jump with spasmodic contractions and his heels drummed against the floor of the van.
"Gonna blow... " he gasped.
Jane sucked voraciously on his knob.
Suddenly her mouth was filled with cream.
She sputtered and gulped. Her mouth was filled to the brim and hot jism bubbled from her unpeeled lips, running down his stalk. Her head continued to bob up and down the slippery rod and she was swallowing his cum, gulping it down as she made room for more. He shot a second heavy dose into her head, then a third that trickled weakly onto her flashing tongue. He was drained.
Jane continued to mouth him until she was sure that she had milked every drop from his cock and balls-just so that he would have nothing left to fuck with, of course.
Then she pulled her lips away.
His cock sagged and collapsed. Soft, it was still impressive as it flopped along his thigh.
"That," he said, "was nice."
Jane was still staring at Sandy. Sandy was still smiling. Jane felt her face blush with mortification.
It wasn't my fault, she thought. I had to do it. I wasn't as wicked as Sandy, either. She came!
"It was lousy," Butch said. Sandy looked startled. Butch said, "It ain't no fun, raping a woman if she enjoys it more than you do!" He looked greatly insulted. Sundance chuckled.
"Let's torture 'em now, huh?" Butch said. "Naw, we'll just dump 'em out here." He opened the doors.
Sandy was pulling her panties on and Jane was still swallowing spunk; it trickled down her throat and warmed her belly. The two rapists got out and motioned for the girls to follow.
"Let that be a lesson to you," Sundance told them.
Sandy said, "You might at least leave us enough money for a taxi, huh?" She had pulled her dress up as she adjusted her panties. There was little point in modesty at this stage. As her panties molded to her loins, the crotch dampened.
"Don't be silly," Sundance said.
"At least some telephone change... "
"So you can call the cops? What are we, stupid?"
"Assholes," Sandy said, curling her lip. Jane winced. She was afraid that the two rapists might decide to torture them, after all. But the men laughed at the insult. Butch closed the doors of the van. "Our luggage... " Jane said. "We can sell that in a used clothing store." Jane wailed.
"Small-dicked bastards," Sandy called them.
The two men got in the front of the van. Sundance was driving. The van started, rumbling loudly. The men were grinning, quite pleased with themselves, although Butch still resented the fact that his victim had enjoyed the rape more than he had. That did not seem quite fair to Butch. It was a rapist's nightmare.
They drove off, spraying sand.
Sandy and Jane looked at one another, looked at the departing van, looked at each other again. The full horror of the affair was sinking into their numbed minds. They were standing there on a secluded beach and they had no money, no credit cards, no identification and no luggage. Sandy has been raped in the cunt and Jane had been raped in the mouth.
Their husbands were somewhere on the highway and could not be reached by phone.
It occurred to Jane that it could have been worse-their assailants could have taken the clothing they wore, leaving them naked.
She turned to Sandy; she didn't know what to say.
"This," said Sandy, "is a hell of a note... "
CHAPTER THREE
Along with everything else, Jane was embarrassed.
She was well aware that Sandy had been watching when she sucked Sundance off and in some ways that was worse than the actual act. She had had no choice, but still...
She said, "My God... it was bad enough to be robbed but to be raped as well... "
"The raping wasn't so bad," Sandy said.
Sandy realized how embarrassed Jane was and she said that to make light of it but Jane took it the wrong way. Feeling defensive, Jane took the offensive.
"You liked it!" she cried.
Sandy was logical.
She said, "Well, not exactly. I mean, I didn't want to get raped and if there was any way I could have avoided it, I would have. But since I had to get screwed, what the hell... I just made it easy on myself."
But Jane was not in the mood for logic.
"You liked it!" she cried, again, as if she could mitigate her own guilt by casting blame on Sandy.
Sandy was annoyed.
"So I liked it," she said. "So what. You licked it!"
"Ohhh!" Jane wailed.
"Look, Jane... we're not to blame. There's no sense... "
"Oh, you horrid woman! You came!"
Now Sandy was getting angry.
"Well, you swallowed his cum. That's worse."
"I didn't want to!"
"I was watching. You looked like you were having a merry old time, gobbling away on his prick."
Jane covered her face with her hands. She was trembling with shame and anger.
"They didn't hurt us, at least," said Sandy. "We're in a bad spot but everything will work out okay. Why... " she grinned, "...
we can always find some smuck and mug him... " But Jane was in no mood for humor.
She couldn't look at Sandy. Sandy had watched her suck that man off and Jane simply couldn't bear to look at her now. She was sobbing into her hands.
"You're horrid, horrid, horrid," she said.
Sandy made one further attempt to get through to Jane; she said, "I've often wondered what it would be like to get raped. I didn't want to, I never expected to, but since it had to happen, well... it was quite an experience... " Jane felt exactly the same way.
Jane liked to suck cock and Jane had fantasized just as Sandy had and while she had been gobbling Sundance's big dick it had been thrilling. But Jane was not as open and honest as Sandy. She was more inhibited. Thus the truth of Sandy's words horrified her far more than if they had not been true.
She sat down in the sand, her head still in her hands.
Jane said, "We'd better get to the highway; we'll have to hitch a ride."
"Oh no! We'll get raped again... "
"We can't stay here," Jane said.
"I'm not going to hitchhike! You... you're probably hoping you will get raped again, you horrible woman!"
Sandy flushed with annoyance. She felt sorry for Jane, but she wasn't going to take that crap; wasn't willing to take all the blame to soothe Jane's own shame.
She said, "Suit yourself; I'm going."
Jane didn't want to be left alone and she didn't want to leave and she felt just terrible.
Sandy walked off.
Jane looked up after a while, just in time to see Sandy disappear over a sand dune.
She jumped up to follow her, then hesitated.
She wished she hadn't said all those things. She still didn't want to have to look Sandy in the eye but she didn't want to be left there all alone, either.
She ran after Sandy.
Topping the dune, she was just in time to see Sandy get into a car that had stopped for her. "Wait!" Jane cried.
But the car drove off and Jane was truly all alone with her dark remorse.
* * *
For a while her emotions were so confused that they tumbled through her mind without any semblance of order; she didn't know what she was thinking or what she was feeling. But after a while she calmed down. She began to see things more logically, the way that Sandy did. Why had she recriminated against Sandy? How stupid that was. If Sandy had enjoyed being raped, that was her business and no concern of Jane's.
Jane knew that her reaction had been subjective-that she had flared up simply because she, too, in a bizarre fashion, had enjoyed it. And she had enjoyed it! She had to admit that, shameful as it was. When Sundance had shot his thick wad into her mouth she had almost had an orgasm.
But not quite.
Sandy had been luckier than Jane in that respect.
Jane, to her surprise, found that she felt envious of her friend. She wished that the rapists had fucked her, too, and that she had come.
Jane was horny!
Giving head always made her randy as could be but under normal circumstances that was anything but a hardship, because Mark always fucked her afterwards or, if she had milked his dick so dry that he couldn't get a hard-on right away he was always more than willing to suck her off, in turn.
She had never sucked a guy off without enjoying a subsequent climax of her own.
Now, with the musky flavor of Sundance's spunk tingling on her tastebuds and warming her belly, Jane wanted to come.
Her imagination began to function in a lusty fashion. She had often thought about being raped-usually when she was masturbating, while Mark was at work-and the idea, in theory, had always been very thrilling. The reality had been a letdown.
If only she had been alone!
If Sandy had not been there to witness it, Jane might well have enjoyed the whole sordid business. She almost wished that she had been alone. Almost, hell-she did wish it. If those two men had abducted her without Sandy, she could have sucked Sundance off and then, hot as hell, spread her legs for Butch. It would have been a chance to experience her ultimate fantasy. And the best part would have been that she would not have to feel guilty or ashamed, for it would not have been as if she were willfully being unfaithful to her husband; she would have had no choice and, as they say, if rape is inevitable, one might as well relax and enjoy it...
A golden opportunity had been lost.
But now that Jane was thinking realistically, she no longer felt quite so badly.
Sandy had got a lift right away and would no doubt be back with help in a short while. There was nothing that Jane could do but wait for her friend to return. She didn't dare hitchhike now-even now that she no longer feared another rapist-because then she and Sandy would be separated and that would only add to all the confusion. She leaned back, elbows in the sand. She actually managed a smile. She wished that Sandy had waited here and that she had been the one to hitchhike.
She wouldn't have been looking for a rapist, of course.
But if a rapist-or two rapists-happened to pick her up, and she had been on her own... Jane was getting hotter and hotter. Jane had time to kill.
Jane would not be seeing Mark for two days.
Jane, feeling very sexy and very naughty, decided that she would give herself a handjob. She looked around.
She was hidden from the highway by the sand dunes that rippled up behind her. The beach was deserted on both sides. The expanse of blue water showed not even a boat. This was a truly secluded spot and it suited her immediate purposes admirably.
She began to massage her tits.
She wore no brassiere. Her nipples exploded into her palms as she cupped the big, firm mounds. She kneaded the fat globes and then pulled her fingers up the slopes and began to pull gently at her tingling nipples.
She knew that, faithful wife that she was, she ought to think about her husband as she played with herself.
But circumstances were not normal.
She thought about Sundance.
She thought about how his big cock had flared in her mouth and how he had whimpered when he shot his load and how she had willingly gulped that succulent jism down her gullet.
"Ooooh," she murmured.
This was enough masturbation fantasy to last a lifetime!
Jane leaned back, her nubile body arching. She drew her dress up her thighs, then above her hips. She wore bikini panties. The crotch was damp. Her pussy was smoldering and her clitoris had tightened into a sensitive nugget.
She cupped her hand over her cunt.
The heat of her cunt warmed her hand and her panties immediately became damper.
She stroked her twat tenderly, her hand pulling up as it had on her tits, fingers pulling her clit as they had her nipples. She petted herself through her panties for a moment, then slipped her hand inside them and began to stroke her naked cunt. Her fingers traced along the cunt lips and across the clit with loving attention. Her cunt lips unfurled like the petals of a fleshy pink blossom and the parted slot filled with cream.
"Ummm," she sighed.
She parted her thighs wide. A gentle breeze from the water wafted over her; it seemed to fan her crotch, increasing the fiery urgency that simmered there.
Jane had never masturbated in the open air before; she found it a thrilling experience. Her eyes were closed and she was still thinking about Sundance's cock. Her hips shifted from side to side and her belly pumped.
She looked around again.
The beach was still deserted.
Grinning with delight at her own eroticism, she pushed her panties down, squirming her hips out of them; she drew them down her legs and took them off. She gazed fondly down at her golden snatch, spreading her lush thighs wide apart. Her crotch was swampy. She cupped her hand over her mound, fingers trailing into her slit. She squeezed. A tingling sensation rushed through her loins. Ripples of pleasure coursed up her thighs and quivered laterally across her gently rounded belly.
She began to masturbate with both hands then.
She started to fingerfuck herself with one hand while, with the other, she stroked her cunt lips and clit. She was pushing three fingers in and out of her gash with a steady, fucking motion. Her loins began to hump, just as if it were a cock that was moving up her hole.
She was pretending it was a cock. Sundance's big cock.
"Oh, please don't," she whimpered, talking to her imaginary rapist. And of course her pleading did no good whatsoever; her fingers continued to plunder her cunt. She sighed. She knew it was no good begging this imaginary fiend to desist.
And after he finished, Butch, too, would rape her.
Her imagination was seething, her mind every bit as hot as her loins.
She pulled her fingers out of her snatch and brought them up to her face. She held them bunched together. They were glistening with cunt juice. They were Butch's cock and, too impatient to wait until her cunt had been vacated, he was going to put that cock into her mouth...
"Don't make me suck it," she whined.
She pushed her fingertips against her lips.
Her lips parted and she slowly took her creamy fingers into her mouth and sucked on them. She could taste her own cunt juice. She pretended it was a trickle of spunk from Butch's dick as she slurped it up.
Her other hand was fingerfucking her cunt steadily, playing the role of a cock. She was being raped in cunt and mouth at the same time-just as she would have been, in reality, if Sandy had not been there as a witness.
She had sucked her fingers clean.
She switched hands, bringing another creamy taste treat to her mouth. Her tongue curled out, laving and licking. Her lips pulled on those cunt juice-coated digits. She had almost convinced herself that it was really happening-that her loving hands were two huge, inexorable rapist dicks.
There was no harm in a fantasy.
But Jane was so hot that she almost wished it were really happening; almost wished that Sundance and Butch would decide to return and rape her again.
She alternated hands again, so that she was once more sucking on creamy fingers, her own cunt juice playing the role of substitute jism in her mouth.
Her cunt was steaming. It pulsed and rippled against her palm as she cupped it. When she pushed three fingers up her hole her cunt lips sucked on them greedily and the muscles of her channel contracted, pulling and throbbing, just as if her pussy were working on a real cock, dragging it in and milking it as the concentric rings tightened in sequence.
She wished that her hands could come.
"Come," she said, urging her make-believe lovers to shoot their rapist spunk into her at both ends.
Then she started to come.
Fired by fantasy and thrilled by her own caress, her cunt started to melt. She finger-fucked herself faster. Cunt juice flowed into her slot and ran down her crotch. It seeped into the crack of her ass and soaked the sand beneath her. She was moaning and panting.
Her whole lithe body jerked and squirmed as she pumped away, working her orgasm to the crest.
Then she was at the peak and her pussy was melting like a candle around the wick of her sliding fingers and she cried out with the joy of her climax.
Satiated, she slowed.
She continued to slide her fingers up and down her hole as the final feeble spasms of her passion worked themselves off.
She lay back in the sand, smiling.
Oh, that was naughty, she thought.
But it didn't matter because she had merely been pretending and she had been all alone with her erotic fantasy and her self-caressing hands.
She opened her eyes, looking down at her satisfied loins.
A dark shadow lay upon her belly.
She frowned. She looked up to see what had cast that shadow.
And two grinning men looked down at Jane...
CHAPTER FOUR
No sooner had Sandy reached the highway and stuck her thumb out than a car stopped. She ran up to it and got in beside the driver before he could change his mind, for she knew that she must look a bit flustered and disheveled. But why should that stop a man from giving a girl a lift?
"Thanks," she said.
"Where you going?"
He was a handsome man with a square jaw. He didn't look at all like a rapist.
"Where am I going?" she repeated. "Why... I'm not sure... " She hadn't even thought about that.
He looked amused.
He said, "Well, I'm staying at a motel a few miles down the road. I can take you that far."
Sandy decided that the best thing would be to tell this fellow the truth. He might know what to do.
She said, "I've just been raped."
He blinked.
"Two horrible young men in a van. They gave me a lift from the airport and brought me out here and one of them raped me. The other one raped my girlfriend in the mouth."
"Jesus," he said.
"And they took all our money and our luggage and I just don't know what to do."
He nodded. He thought for a moment, said, "What about your friend? Where is she?"
"She's still on the beach. She feels pretty bad."
"We'd better pick her up, huh?"
Sandy considered that. She was annoyed with Jane. She said, "She wants to be alone for a while. Maybe you could just take me to a telephone or a police station or something first?"
"Sure thing," he said.
He drove off.
He said, "We can stop at my motel, if you like. You can use the telephone there." He grinned. "Don't worry," he added. "I won't rape you."
"All right," she said.
He fingertipped a cigarette from his shirt pocket and held it out. Sandy took it gratefully. He took one himself; lighted both with a gold Dupont. Sandy realized that even her cigarettes had been stolen. That, more than anything else, brought the true difficulty of the situation home to her.
"Do you have a place to stay?" he asked.
"Well... we were going to stay at a hotel in the city. The Duke. Our husbands are supposed to meet us there. But... I don't know if we can stay there without any money or identification... it's not a very classy place... "
"I can lend you some money, if you want," he said.
Sandy looked at him. He seemed genuine and serious. She had been very lucky, she thought. What would the odds be against getting a lift from such a kind, sympathetic, generous gentleman?
And handsome, too...
She said, "Gee, that would really be great. I can pay you back as soon as my husband gets here."
"No trouble," he told her.
Sandy thought it was too bad that Jane had pulled her tantrum. And then she thought: Maybe it's better this way; maybe this guy wouldn't be so nice if there were two of us...
And in a way, Sandy was thinking the same as Jane had-that things were easier when one was alone and did not have to behave in front of a witness.
* * *
His name was Brock Jenkins, he told her. Sandy told him who she was. She thanked him again and he brushed it off; any man would do the same, he implied. He was not looking for gratitude, he was just a very nice man.
They pulled into his motel.
"Want to go to the office? Or you can use the phone in my room. That will be more private and comfortable... if your terrible experience hasn't put you off strange men."
"Your room," she said, "will be fine."
* * *
Sandy telephoned the police. She answered a lot of questions on the phone and agreed to come to the station in a short while and fill out a report. The police said they were hopeful that they could intercept the van. It would have been better if Sandy had got the license number, of course, but they understood that she had not been thinking too clearly and, anyhow, vans with desert sunsets and vultures painted on the panels were not too common.
Then she telephoned her home, hoping that John and Mark had not yet left. There was no reply. She tried the Conway apartment with similar lack of success. There was nothing for it but to wait until they arrived in two days time.
She reported her credit cards stolen. "Well, I guess that's all I can do for now," she said.
"Shall we go back for your friend?"
"I wonder... could I have a bath first? I feel so... dirty... from that nasty man's hands... " Sandy drew a deep bath and wallowed in it. The warm, soapy water relaxed her. Things were not so very bad. They could have been plenty worse. She hadn't even minded being raped, truth be known. It had been a very erotic experience. She hadn't wanted it to happen and yet... she did not really regret it.
It was too bad that Jane had been there with her.
It might have been... fun...
But Jane wasn't with her now.
She soaped her tits; the nipples stood out.
She was alone in the motel with Brock Jenkins and he was such a very kind and generous fellow... and handsome...
She soaped her crotch, washing away the residue of the rapist's vile lust.
She wondered how she could ever thank Jenkins enough?
And as she worked the slippery soap around in her slippery crotch, she began to smile wickedly.
Yes, she knew how she could thank him.
But she would have to thank him before they picked up Jane... Jane didn't understand these things. Sandy was rationalizing. It was really no different than being raped, she reasoned. The rapist had forced her and now fate was forcing her just as surely, because it really would be a good thing to be nice to Jenkins, who had been so nice to her in her difficulty...
And she wanted to...
* * *
Sandy came out of the bathroom, her body still damp-and naked.
Jenkins was looking out of the window. When he heard her pad into the room, he turned.
Sandy smiled. "Oh," he said. And he smiled, too.
His eyes moved over her body, going up and down.
"Would you like to fuck me?" Sandy asked.
"I... you're very desirable... "
"I owe you that much," she told him.
Jenkins shook his head.
"You owe me nothing," he said. "If that's why you're offering me your body, forget it."
That surprised Sandy. It pleased her, as well; she saw that she had not judged this man wrong.
She said, "It's not just that. I... want you to."
He hesitated. He looked uncertain. Sandy wondered if maybe he was too moralistic; if she had made a mistake and he would resent her offer. She didn't want him to think she was a tramp, either. It would have been better if she had been a bit more subtle about it, she figured, but it was too late for that now.
She said, "I'm not normally like this, Brock. Really. I've never once been unfaithful to my husband. But I'm in such a strange mood right now. It must be some form of shock or... I don't know... that horrible man raped me and now I feel that the only thing that will purge me of him is to... sleep with a man that I want... " Even to Sandy, that sounded like a pretty feeble excuse.
But Jenkins seemed to be considering it. He nodded slowly. Sandy was watching him nervously, hoping that he would not reject her. A rejection, at the moment, was the last thing that the poor girl needed.
And then, to her relief, she saw that the front of his trousers had started to bulge.
He said, "I don't know as I follow your reasoning... and you don't owe me a damn thing... but if that's what you want... " He grinned and his eyes shifted to her loins. The swelling in his pants grew more pronounced.
"Fucking you will be no hardship," he said.
Sandy sat on the bed. She watched Jenkins undress. She wasn't at all sure why she was doing this, whether it was purely because of physical lust or if she needed it for some vague psychological reasons but, as she gazed at him, she felt her crotch begin to blaze with desire.
His body was lean and muscular. He had wide shoulders and a washboard belly.
He had a big, hard cock.
It was thick and long and the head was throbbing as he moved towards her. His dick led the way, like the bowsprit of a ship heading into harbor. Sandy stared at that welcome rod and, as if her eyes were caressing him, it pulsated in response.
He paused beside the bed.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
And now that she had seen his tool, Sandy was more sure than ever. She nodded. She lay back on the bed and her knees came up; her thighs parted; her crotch was sodden. Her eyes narrowed and her lips parted moistly.
"Yes," she said.
Brock moved between her parted thighs lithely and holding his big dick in one hand, remained poised above her for a moment.
They were strangers, and Brock, gentleman that he was, wondered if she had the capacity to take his massive cock.
There was only one way to find out. Dipping lower he fitted the head of his dick into her creamy crotch.
Sandy gurgled with delight.
He began working the tip of his prick into her hot slot, rubbing it up and down and then working it into her gash, stirring his knob around in her juicy pussy. As the velvet-smooth, iron-hard head of his cock ran over her love-bud, a swift electric shock jumped through Sandy's nerves; as that smoking slab of meat churned her slot, she felt her blood pound heavily through her heated veins.
"Oh, put it up... put it in... " she urged.
Jenkins didn't obey immediately.
He reached around and cupped her taut ass with both hands, holding her crotch to his rod. Then, very slowly, letting his cock find the path unaided by his hands, he began to push that formidable tool into her greedy cunt.
He fed her an inch of cockhead, then paused and held steady, his hands firmly cupping her ass and holding her pelvis in place, like a bracket for his bore.
Sandy did not attempt to push her wet pussy further onto his cock-she was willing to let him set the pace, as long as she got that thundering rod up her. She squirmed and writhed around, working the wet sleeve of her cunt around on the bloated portion of his peckerhead she had already been granted.
His ass rotated, corkscrewing slowly; his hips screwed; he fed her the head of his prick.
The moment that wide wedge of cockmeat was inside her, Sandy's cunt lips clamped firmly and moistly closed around the stalk, holding tight to the knob as if in fear that he might suddenly decide to retract the welcome plunger.
He braced his muscular thighs, readying himself to shove the length of his elongated prick into her loins.
But there was no need to move... Sandy's cunt was dragging him in.
Her cuntlips were pulling at his stalk with wet suction, dragging him up her hole inch by inch with a remorseless pressure, and as his dick entered her, her hold began to constrict around his rod in a series of concentric rings that fluttered up from her cunt lips and pulled him up towards her womb along a tight, slippery, clinging channel.
Jenkins held steady, loving the feeling of being literally hauled up her hole.
Sandy's talented pussy pulled him in to the hilt, so that every millimeter of his rod was buried up her twat and his swollen, cum-filled balls were jammed tight to her perineum.
They held that deep penetration for a few moments, both enjoying the feeling of being linked to the roots. Sandy whimpered with joy at being stuffed absolutely full with a strange man's hot pecker. Jenkins moaned with delight at the unexpected treat of having his whole massive rod embedded in his horny new acquaintance.
Then her cunt relaxed.
Jenkins began to fuck into her ferociously.
Sandy swayed, meeting him, pushing her belly up as he plunged in and then pulling back as he withdrew, so that they were crashing together in a head-on collision, doubling the speed with which his pecker slipped up her pussy and magnifying the friction of that heated, lubricated passage.
Her cunt continued to drag at him as he thrust, then loosened to allow him to draw back fluidly, until only the tip of his dick was in her, then started to pull back again.
Holding her tightly by the ass, he pounded the prick to her, groaning and grimacing with the fury of his assault. His ass flew in and out, dipped down for an underslung stroke, then rose and screwed the rod in from a higher angle, so that the full length of his throbbing cock passed across her hot love-bud as it bored into the depths of her cunt.
His cock was so hot that it hissed as it sped up her wet hole and her cunt was so fiery that it was steaming. Creamy cunt juice bubbled from her cunt lips, forced out by his big cock as it surged in, leaving no room up her snatch for the pussy juice. Her clit was on fire; it seemed to burn his shaft as it ran across it, coming and going and it was so taut that it hummed like a crystal under high frequency sound waves.
This couple was so intense that it could not endure for long; they were both riding a dizzy spiral towards the very peak of sexual sensation.
Jenkins poured the pork to her savagely.
Sandy ground herself against him, sinuous as a snake, as she took his great wad.
Her cunt was melting under his attack.
"Oh... come... come... " she gasped.
"Yes, yes," he grated through clenched teeth.
Long lateral waves of ecstasy coursed through her loins, centering in her cunt in a maelstrom of wild lust. His balls were inflated like balloons, ready to burst.
Sandy cried out, she arched her back, rubbing her stiff nipples against his chest, moaning as wave upon wave of joy broke upon the shores of release.
She was clawing at his shoulders, bucking against his belly, hooking her slick thighs around his flanks. She had gone wild with the frenzy of her orgasm, her whole body vibrating as she came and came again.
As he felt her cunt melt around his cock, like a candle around a burning wick, Jenkins began to moan. He rammed his mighty pecker in to the hilt and his cum came out in a turbulent explosion, filling her cunt with love juice.
He drew back, then slammed in for a second great spurt, pouring his spunk out in creamy loops and coils into her frenzied loins.
Spent, he slumped down on her.
Sandy continued to writhe and squirm on his impaling prick as she worked out the last dregs of her ecstasy on that huge dork, then she, too, slumped.
And even in the wonderful moment of fulfillment, the horny girl was wondering when, and if, this sympathetic gentleman would fuck her again...
She knew that they should go and get Jane.
But it seemed a shame...
Still, she couldn't leave Jane all alone on the beach.
But Jane was not alone .
CHAPTER FIVE
Jane gasped.
The two big, hard-looking men were standing right next to her-or over her-and their shadows fell across her naked belly. They were grinning.
How long have they been here? Jane thought.
Did they see me playing with myself?
But even as she asked herself that question, she knew the answer. It registered in their amused eyes and grinning faces. Jane realized that her dress was still tucked up over her hips and she had not yet put her panties back on. She tugged the dress down with a quick, squirming movement. The dress seemed heavy, as if the double shadow they cast on her belly had a physical weight, holding the garment down. She pulled it over her hips and down her thighs. She felt less vulnerable then. She even began to feel resentment and anger. What right did they have to spy on her?
She glared up at them.
They were wearing swimming trunks and hooded sweatshirts. The sweatshirts were tight and bulged with the heavy muscles of their brawny torsos and the swimming trunks were tight and...
Bulged with their erections!
Jane wailed when she saw that. Her eyes snapped closed, as if she could obliterate these men by denying their presence to her sight. She felt like burying her head in the sand, like an ostrich that has noticed a lion but she knew that would be a very silly thing to do for, with her head buried, her ass would be sticking up in a most inviting position.
She opened her eyes again.
They were still grinning, lewdly, lasciviously. Their hard-ons looked bigger than ever, and more mobile, writhing great lumps inside the tight trunks.
It occurred to Jane that she might once more be in a precarious position vis-a-vis rape.
"Go away!" she wailed.
Although only a few minutes before, as she merrily masturbated, she had been wishing that Butch and Sundance would return, that had only been hand job fantasy. She hadn't really wanted it and, now that she had come, she certainly didn't want it.
They made no move.
"You nasty voyeurs!" she cried.
They looked at each other, eyebrows up, as if they questioned that term.
"Horrid Peeping Toms!" she sputtered.
"Naw, not Toms," said one. "Dicks."
"Huh?"
"We're dicks. You know... cops."
Cops! Jane was in two minds about that. Surely cops would not rape her. They might even help her out of her predicament. But she was more mortified than ever at the thought that staunch minions of the law had seen her fingerfucking herself.
"I'm Bill," he said. "This is Ed."
"You don't look like cops," she said.
"That's because we're wearing bathing suits instead of uniforms," Ed explained. It sounded logical.
"We're off-duty," Bill added.
"Er... can I see your badges?"
"Badges? Where the fuck we gonna wear badges, when we're wearing bathing suits?"
Well, that was logical, too.
Jane decided she had better believe them.
She said, "I'm in trouble, officers... "
"You sure are, sister," Ed said.
"Masturbating on a public beach," said Bill. "That's a serious offense, young lady. That will get you two to five."
"Section 14D of the state penal code," Ed said.
"Yeah. Two to five. You'll have plenty of time to masturbate while you're serving two to five."
"If the old bull dykes give her a chance," Ed said. "Sexy girl like this, they'll probably be sitting on her face all day. She'll be so sick of pussy she won't even like her own."
"That's the way it is," Bill agreed.
"Better read her her rights," Ed said. "Then we'll take her down the station and book her."
Jane's jaw was hanging open.
She hadn't realized that she'd broken the law but, now that she thought about it, it seemed quite probable that public masturbation was a crime. And she knew that ignorance of the law was no excuse. And she couldn't deny committing the offense, for these two policemen were eyewitnesses.
What would Mark say when he found that she was in jail?
She began to sob.
"I feel sorry for her," Bill said.
"Ah, you're too soft-hearted. She looks like a hardened beach masturbator to me. I'll bet this ain't her first offense. Just think of all the morals she's corrupted in her time, Bill... all the young men who have had their lives affected by the sight of a woman fingerfucking herself in public... " Bill said, "What about it? This your first offense?"
"Yes! Oh, I've never done anything like that before. If you'll let me explain... "
"Tell it to the judge," said Ed.
"Won't hurt to listen," Bill said.
Jane saw that her only hope was to tell the truth and throw herself on their mercy.
"I was raped," she said.
"What's that got to do with it?"
"Well... "But what did it have to do with it? How on earth could she explain the strange state of mind that had caused her to feel so randy?
Ed said, "Raped? She must have led some poor guy on, Bill. That's an offense, too. Corrupting the morals of a rapist. The judge will just love that."
"Christ! She'll get life for that!"
"Let's take her in."
"I didn't lead him on!" Jane wailed.
"You think she really was raped?" Bill wondered. "Maybe we ought to let her go, huh? I hate to be responsible for arresting someone who gets life."
"Can you prove it, lady?' "How could I prove it?" she asked. "My friend was a witness,-she'll tell you that it's true. She was raped, too."
"Naw, that's no good. A rapee can't testify, she'd be a prejudiced witness."
"The police doctor can tell," Ed said.
"Yeah, but we'll have to take her in for him to examine her and once she's inside, slam! That's it. Ten years at least."
"I got no sympathy for her. Hell, you and I got hard-ons, watching her. And we're law abiding, being cops. Think what it would of done to a civilian."
"Still... I think I'll check her story out, Ed. If she's telling the truth, we'll let her go. If she ain't, we can get an extra ten years tacked on for perjury."
"You're too soft. But okay, go ahead."
Jane hesitated. But she had no choice. She was at their mercy and it wouldn't do to antagonize them. They were cops, after all; showing them her cunt would be simply a matter of showing them evidence and clues, nothing more.
Jane pulled her dress up.
Bill knelt in the sand beside her.
"Open your legs," he said.
Jane parted her thighs.
Bill peered at her juicy snatch, as keen as Sherlock Holmes looking through a magnifying glass.
"Any clues?" Ed said.
"Hard to tell. Plenty of cunt juice."
"That's probably why the hell she masturbated... to hide the evidence," said Stern Ed. "That's a crime, too."
"I'll have to sample it," said Bill. "That's the only way to tell if there's spunk up there."
"But... but . Jane stammered.
"Shut up!" Ed snarled. "We've had enough of your lies, lady. Forensic investigation will reveal the truth."
Bill lowered his face. His tongue came out. He began lapping up her sodden crotch. His hot tongue slurped up her slit, then pushed up her hole. His face was taut with concentration as he lapped away.
If Jane hadn't known better, she would have sworn that he was eating her out.
It even felt good!
His tongue squirmed around inside her cunt and his lips pulled on her cunt lips. After a while he leaned back.
"Well?" Ed asked.
"Hard to say. Better have a second opinion."
Ed grimaced, as if he found the task distasteful. But he was a cop and he knew his duty. He got down on his hands and knees, dipped his big face between her thighs and began to suck and lick with great attention to details.
His lips clamped on her clit and he sucked steadily. Her slot was flooded; pussy juice ran over his tongue and into his mouth and he sampled it on his tastebuds before he swallowed it.
He leaned back, his mouth gleaming with cream.
"What do you think?" Bill asked. "I think she lied. I can detect no spunk."
"Yeah. And look... her little man in the boat is all stiff and tingly... that's a sure sign that she's wanton."
"You sure you been raped, lady?" Ed asked her. "I mean, it's possible, I guess... but I'm damned if I can taste cum."
"He didn't come in my cunt," Jane said.
The two policemen looked shocked.
"My God! Oh My God! Giving false testimony... and... inducement to commit a crime!"
"That's right. Eating pussy is a crime in this state, lady. And if there was no evidence to be sampled, that means you led us to commit a crime under false pretenses... we thought we were looking for spunk but, with no spunk there, what we were doing was sucking your twat!"
"But... you didn't let me explain! He came in my mouth!"
"Jesus! Lady, you're hanging yourself. You know that? Fellatio is a heinous offense."
"Second only to sodomy," Bill added.
"Yeah, how about that? He get up your ass, too?"
Jane had started to sob so greatly that she could not reply. She knew she was innocent of everything-except masturbating in a public place-but the circumstantial evidence was against her. Even if a sympathetic jury found her innocent, she would be disgraced. Her life was ruined. Mark would divorce her. How could she blame him?
Suddenly she realized that Ed was sucking her cunt again.
"What are you doing?" she wailed.
Ed said something but his words were muffled up her pussy and she couldn't understand him. His mouth was wide open, clamped over her cunt like a mussel on a coral reef.
Bill said, "He's compounding the evidence, lady. I'm a witness. You're allowing cunnilingus; that's seven years."
Shattered, seeing no hope, Jane fell back in the sand. Ed's nimble, investigative tongue probed up her slot and his lips pulled on her parted cunt lips. Despite the horror of her predicament, she had to admit that it felt very nice.
When he stopped, she was almost sorry; it was better to be sucked off on a beach than thrown into a cell.
The two cops were staring accusingly at her.
"Well, that ought to take her out of society for a long time," Ed said. "Can't have women like this on the streets."
"Still... I have this nagging idea that maybe she's telling the truth," Bill said. "Her story is so preposterous that it just might be true. I mean... who could make up a ridiculous alibi like that one?"
"A gut feeling, huh?"
"Yeah. A sort of tingling in my balls."
"Well... we could reenact the crime, I guess."
Jane was staring at them.
"It's our only chance, lady," Bill told her.
"Oh, yes... anything... " she gasped.
Bill nodded. She could tell that he was on her side; that he was really trying to help her, unlike his partner, Ed, who wanted to lock her away. She realized that it was true; one cop was nice and one was brutal, an effective system that caused criminals to confess and, she hoped, freed the innocent.
Bill knelt down beside her.
He pushed his bathing suit down.
His huge pecker stood up in front of his belly, throbbing. The knob was a great slab of purple meat and the dark vein that ran up the underside of the stalk was as fat as her little finger and pulsing spasmodically.
Jane looked at his huge nightstick.
He was looking at her, peering down his belly so that it seemed as if he were looking at her right through the head of his prick, as if it were a magnifying glass-or over it, as if it were a gunsight. Her lower lip trembled. She felt as though she were on the witness stand, about to be cross-examined.
"Okay," he said. "Show me how he raped your head."
Jane thought about it. She wanted to make sure that she got the details absolutely correct, for she knew that these sharp-minded detectives would instinctively know when she was lying.
She said, "Well, first I pumped his cock up and down with my hand. I was trying to jerk him off so that he wouldn't have any energy left to fuck me... "
"Sounds logical," Ed said.
"Show me," said Bill.
Jane folded her fist around the root of his massive billy club. She began to pump it up and down. The big, bloated knob began to flare, expanding, diminishing for a moment and then flaring up even larger, like a great purple lung.
"Then... " she said, her gaze fixed on that big cockhead, "... then he pushed it against my lips... " Bill thrust his hips out.
His cockhead brushed her cheek, then slipped around to nuzzle at her mouth.
Jane kept her lips clamped for a moment. Her hand continued to skim up his rod.
"Then... " she said, and as she spoke her lips naturally had to part a little bit and the tip of his tool slipped in. "Then he pushed his cock... in... like... this... " Jane slowly lowered her face, feeding his huge peckerhead into her mouth. Her lips clamped snug around the thick shaft, just behind the glans.
She could no longer give verbal evidence, for her mouth was too full of hot cockmeat to allow her to speak, but she was able to demonstrate quite accurately how it had been.
She sucked on the bloated knob, fairly inhaling it.
Her tongue lashed and coiled around the meaty wedge.
She began to move her head up and down, running his dick back into her throat, then slurping up it, her lips pulling and her tongue writhing.
She would never have done this, if she'd had a choice, of course, but since it was necessary, she was pleased to discover that cop cock was tasty, indeed. His knob felt like a wad of molten iron sheathed in a velvet bag. She sucked steadily and with gusto, hoping that when he came she would have proven her case.
Ed was a keen observer.
"Looks like she's sucked a cock or two before," he said.
"I think she's telling the truth," Bill wheezed, his face contorted, his chest heaving. "I think there really was rapist dick in her mouth... " Ed nodded.
He said, "I'd better check her asshole out, in that case... if she ain't been committing sodomy, we'll let her go."
Jane, hearing that, was filled with a joy every bit as vibrant as Bill's pecker. She had no qualms about letting him inspect her asshole, for she had never been buggered in her life.
Ed grasped her by the hipbones and pulled her up into a kneeling position. Her head was down on Bill's dong and her shapely ass was thrust up at the highest point of her body. She really did feel like an ostrich then-an ostrich that had buried its head on a throbbing pecker.
Ed flattened his hands on the cheeks of her ass and spread them apart, widening the cleavage and exposing its taut brown eye. He peered at the nether hole.
"Looks innocent," he grunted.
He ran a fingertip up the crack of her ass and pushed it into her anus. Jane squealed, the sound echoing over Bill's dork. Ed worked his finger into her asshole with surprising tenderness. He twisted it about inside her, probing, examining. Jane squirmed at the strange sensation.
He pulled his finger out.
He bent down and ran his tongue up her ass cleavage with a long, fluttering stroke, then began to wedge the tip into her asshole. His tongue slipped in; his lips sucked.
Jane saw that this was a very thorough investigation but, being totally innocent, she was pleased.
He leaned back, making slurping sounds.
"Tastes cherry," he said.
He pushed his bathing suit down and hauled his dick out, gripping it by the hilt, like a truncheon. Ed's cock was every bit as big as Bill's whopper, but it had a different configuration. Whereas Bill's prick was tubular, with a flaring head, Ed's was tapered, so that it was fattest at the root and gradually inclined up the stalk to a long, pointed tip. It was, in fact, perfectly shaped for prying into tight places. It was like a burglar's tool, confiscated from some break-and-entry man.
He swung it in his hand.
The knob slapped against her firm ass.
Jane gasped, wondering if this was the third degree; if he intended to use his pecker like a rubber hose.
He whacked the bloated club against her again.
It didn't hurt at all, she realized.
He could never beat a false confession from her with that flexible bludgeon.
Then he fitted the tip to her asshole.
He pushed. Her anus resisted. Jane wriggled her ass about, trying to dislodge him from her asshole, but she never missed a stroke on Bill's dick; her head went up and down with a fluid rhythm, taking the fleshy nugget far back into her throat.
Ed gripped her by the hipbones, holding her steady; his cock wedged at her anus resolutely.
"Relax," he grunted. "There ain't no sense in withholding evidence, lady... " Jane realized that the only way he could be sure that she had never had a cock up her ass was to put his own cock up her ass and gauge the resistance and the circumference. She had no desire to be buggered but the alternative was worse-she would go to jail, where bull dykes would sit on her face all day.
She held her ass steady and hoped that it would not hurt too much. She braced herself against the pain, stoically resolved to bite the bullet-although she knew that Bill would not be pleased if she were to bite into his big bullet by mistake.
Ed pushed steadily.
His long, tapered cockhead began to wedge in.
A cock with a bulbous knob-like the admirable pecker upon which she was sucking so fervidly-would never have been able to pry into that taut tunnel, but the tip of Ed's dick was the smallest segment. It slowly worked up her asshole.
He pulled her back by the hips as he pushed his own hips out. She wriggled, not trying to dislodge him now but trying to squirm onto his rod.
His cockhead, smooth and tapering, slipped into her asshole.
Jane gasped as she felt her tight channel spread around the meaty intruder. She stopped sucking on Bill's dick for a moment. She had the head in her mouth and the fat stalk stood out between them, like a bolt fixing her mouth to his balls at a distance. She was drooling down his shaft.
Ed began to feed more dick to her asshole.
His pointed knob worked higher and the stalk levered in behind it, wider and fatter with every inch. He stuck fast; he pushed in hard, pulling her pelvis back at the same time; he pushed another inch into her.
It hurt. Jane was trembling. His cockhead felt like a wad of red-hot iron as it worked its remorseless penetration deep up into her bowels. She gasped and whimpered, the sounds muffled on the big gag of Bill's dong.
And yet, along with the pain there came another sensation. It was a tingling thrill and it was increasing. It was similar to the lovely feeling of having a prick up her cunt, yet subtly different; akin and yet alien. It seemed to be related to the pain, too, as if the throbbing hurt were a highlight of the thrill.
Jane's eyes opened wide with surprise.
It felt good!
Despite the pain, it felt wonderful to have her asshole crammed full of hard, hot pecker! Ed slammed in ferociously then, dragging her ass back like a tight boot onto his phallic foot, and his long dick ran into her bowels, burying its full, vibrant length.
For an instant, the pain became agony. Hot I ripples coursed through her plundered ass like an electric charge. And then the pain subsided. It was still there, but now it was no more than an undercurrent, a background sensation upon which the pleasant thrill was building.
Her sphincter muscles relaxed.
Her tight channel adjusted to the bulk of his intruder, loosening and molding itself to his tapering contours.
Ed held the full penetration for a moment. Her asshole was so tight that he feared he had skinned his prick.
Then he began to fuck into her ass.
Jane moved with him, pushing her bottom back to meet his thrusts and then rotating her hips as he drew out.
Her asshole began to work on him, rippling up the length of his fat reamer, wringing the rod and sucking on the knob with soft, fluttering spasms.
Her head was bobbing up and down on Bill's cock in counterpoint. She swayed back and forth, taking a cockhead into her gullet at one moment, a peckerhead into her bowels the next. Filled at both ends, the girl was also filled with carnal ecstasy. Her whole supple body was vibrating and trembling as she took dick at head and tail. She was taking Bill's pecker right down her gullet now, and Ed was pouring the pork up her asshole as far as it would go and she wondered if their cockheads might not be bumping together somewhere in the middle of her belly.
Ed's bloated balls slapped into her crotch.
Reaching back between her legs, she got a handful of scrotum, squeezing and pulling. She had Bill's balls cupped in her other hand, pumping on them as if she wanted to push the creamy load out by the pressure.
All thoughts of rape had left her; her fears of being arrested were a dim memory; the girl was so abandoned to the joyful sensation of being double-dicked that she was hardly thinking at all, but had become a creature of pure sensation.
Her cunt was smoldering.
It was ironic, she knew-raped by three different men, she had not yet been raped in the logical place; her cunt was still unplundered. In her ecstasy, she almost wished that a third rapist might come wandering along...
Both men were nearing the crest.
Rumbling in his throat like a lion, Bill corkscrewed his ass steadily back and forth, fucking into her mouth as if he were screwing his big dick into a threaded socket.
Ed was grunting as he poured the pecker into her asshole with thundering strokes.
Jane's lips turned outwards as she slurped ravenously up the big mouthful, then compressed into a taut collar as she ran her head voraciously down the rod.
Her hips ground from side to side as Ed withdrew, then she jammed her ass back to meet his inward thrust.
She could feel both bloated dicks swelling even more. Bill's face-fucker was ballooning in her mouth and Ed's ass-reamer was spreading her so wide she thought that her hipbones might fly out of their joints.
She realized that she was soon to become the willing recipient of a double load of spunk; that they were going to hose her with cum from both ends. The thought thrilled her. She wanted both men to shoot at the same instant, to pour the cream into her with simultaneous jolts.
Bill, who had been in her mouth a few minutes longer than Ed had been up her ass, seemed slightly advanced on his inexorable passage to orgasm.
Jane started sucking a bit slower, delaying the inevitable mouthful; at the same time she worked her ass muscles like a pump, milking Ed's dick for all she was worth.
This worked to such efficient effect that Ed's cock surged and he passed Bill on the climactic course, his pecker threatening to erupt at any instant.
Jane renewed her oral efforts, sucking on Bill's cock with total abandon. Both men moaned.
Jane was starting to cream between them, her neglected cunt melting in sympathetic vibration with her mouth and asshole.
Then they came in her.
Bill gasped and ran his cock back into her throat and hosed her gullet with his foam.
Ed groaned and whacked his prick into her hard, his cum bursting into her bowels.
Jane gurgled with joy as she felt a wash of hot cream pour down her throat and another steaming spurt slide into her asshole. She swallowed. Her ass worked with reverse peristalsis, dragging Ed's cum up into her body, as if she wanted the two separate loads to meet like opposing tides in her belly.
She rolled and rippled between them, like a pig roasting over a fire, spitted at both ends with her cunt flaming below.
Bill shot a second wad, then a third, filling her mouth. She gulped the delicious cream down with rare greed while Ed sent a second geyser into her ass.
Drained, they both pulled out of her, their cocks popping free with moist sounds, echoes of each other.
They were panting like steam engines as they looked at each other across her collapsed body. They were stunned by the magnitude of the orgasm that she had sucked from them.
Jane wriggled in the sand, her crotch still melting, flopping about like a mating fish.
Then, finished, she turned onto her back in the cream-darkened sand and smiled uncertainly at the two exhausted men.
"You aren't going to arrest me now, are you?" she asked.
"Naw," Ed said.
"Know why?" said Bill.
"Why?" she said.
" 'Cause we ain't really cops!" they said.
CHAPTER SIX
They looked at her, wondering how Jane would react to the knowledge that this had been less-or more-than a police investigation, and she looked back at them, wondering exactly the same thing-how was she going to react? But then she grinned. They might really have been cops, but she had known all along that their probing was not standard police procedure. She had fooled herself, even as she pretended to be fooled by them.
It was a handy way to get double-dicked without having to blame herself for her wanton submission.
Now, grinning, she said, "If you aren't cops, then you must be rapists, and now I've got the evidence on you."
She licked her cum-coated lips. Exhibit number one.
She was wondering if they might like to return to the scene of the crime?
But the two pseudo-cops were drained.
Their cocks hung down, limp as noodles.
Oh, well, she thought, it was all for the best. If she let them fuck her, now that they had admitted they were not policemen, she would probably have pangs of guilt and shame afterwards; self-recriminations that she did not have to suffer when she was raped against her will or deceived into thinking it had been a standard police investigation.
She didn't want to be unfaithful to Mark without a damn good reason, of course, for she was not that sort of errant wife. But rape and detection were fun.
She said, "Now that you've done naughty things to me, you might at least give me a ride into the city, huh?"
"Sure," Bill said.
"I have to go to the Duke Hotel. I... I don't suppose you could lend me enough money to get a room?"
"We don't have any money," Ed said.
"We're both out of work," said Bill.
"If we were working we'd probably be cops," said Ed.
But at least they gave her a ride.
* * *
Which was why Jane was not on the beach when Sandy and Jenkins drove back to get her, a short while afterwards.
"She must have decided to hitch a ride, after all," Sandy said.
Jenkins was looking at a patch of sand that had been well-plowed, as if a dust devil had been spinning there. There was a damp patch in the middle of this swirl. But he did not jump to any hasty conclusions; it could just as well have been an oil slick washed up on the shore and only a man with a dirty mind would have determined categorically that it was cunt juice.
He said, "Where would she go?"
"Well, we're going to meet our husbands at the Duke; I suppose she'll go there."
"We'd better drive there, then."
Sandy nodded.
Sandy would have liked to stop at Jenkins' motel again, for the pleasant fuck he had thrown into her had served to whet her appetite for more of the same. But she was worried about Jane and, more to the point, she didn't want Jenkins to think that she was the sort of woman who cared more about getting her pussy stuffed than she did about a friend in trouble.
They got in his car and headed for Manhattan.
Sandy didn't sit too close but she kept eyeing his crotch, wondering if he would think her too brazen if she offered to suck him off while he drove.
She was getting plenty excited at the prospect.
But, not certain how he would react to such a bold offer, she forced herself to look away from his crotch. She looked out the window. They were just passing a roadside tavern and she looked at that and she looked at the cars in the parking lot and then she did a double-take and gasped.
One of the vehicles in the parking lot was a van. The panels were painted with a desert sunset and a vulture...
* * *
"You sure this is their van?" Jenkins asked. He had pulled into the lot and parked beside the van.
His jaws were tight, his expression fierce. Jenkins obviously had no use for rapists.
"I'm pretty sure," Sandy said. "I'll check."
She got out and opened the doors at the back of the van. Jenkins stood beside her.
"This is the one, all right. You can still see cunt juice on the mattress where Butch raped me... and see there... a few drops of cum, where Jane drooled after he shot in her mouth... " It occurred to Jenkins that Sandy was a girl with a single-track mind, for the purloined luggage was also in the back of the van but she hadn't noticed that right away. She had a keen eye for cunt juice and cum, no doubt of that.
"Is that your luggage?" he asked.
"Hummm? Oh. Oh, yeah."
"Well, that's proof, then. I mean, it could be anyone's cum, but if those are your suitcases, this must be the van."
He hauled the luggage out and put it in the trunk of his car. Then they looked in the cab of the van. Both stolen handbags were there. The van was not locked. Being thieves and rapists, Butch and Sundance did not expect to be robbed, themselves-or raped, for that matter.
Sandy opened the handbags. The identification and credit cards were intact; the money was gone.
"They must be in the bar," Jenkins said.
"They'd better not see me," Sandy said. "Why don't I wait in the car and you can go in and call the cops?"
He looked thoughtful.
"You really want to have them arrested?"
"Well... I guess so. I mean, they still have all our money and they did rape us... "
"Yeah. But I can get the money back. And do you really want to have to go into court and tell how you were raped? That's not a pleasant experience."
"If you can get the money back... but how? There are two of them and... "
"That's no trouble," he said.
He was a true gentleman and knew that scoundrels and blackguards were all cowards and bullies and could easily be thrashed.
"What do they look like?"
"Well, Butch has a tattoo and Sundance has an earring. They both have long hair and they're wearing jeans and tank tops. You can't miss them."
"I should think not," he said, grimacing with distaste at the unsavory image.
"Wait here; I'll be right back."
He strode determinedly into the bar.
The two rascals were standing at the bar, drinking beer from bottles. Jenkins shuddered when he saw them. If there was one thing he despised more than a rapist, it was a man with dirty hair falling over his shoulders.
He forced himself to be calm and moved up beside the unsightly pair.
"That your van outside?" he asked.
"Yeah. How'd you know?"
"Well, I figured from the look of you that you would be driving a van with a vulture painted on it."
They smiled, thinking he was complimenting them.
"But you have to move it," he said, politely. "You've got my car blocked in."
"Yeah, in a minute." Butch said.
"Now," said Jenkins, not so politely.
They regarded him. His shoulders were a mile wide and his chest was deep and he wasn't smiling.
"Okay," Sundance said. "I'll shift it."
"Both of you," Jenkins said. "Why is that?"
"Move it!"
Butch and Sundance looked at each other.
They shrugged. They headed for the door. The bartender looked relieved to see them departing and Jenkins followed right on their heels as they went out the door.
"That's them," said Sandy.
"Oh-oh," said Butch.
Jenkins grabbed them both by the collars. They tried to run but their legs churned to no effect as he lifted them and hustled them toward the van.
"I guess there's no point in denying it, huh?" Sundance said.
"Give the lady back her money," Jenkins told them.
They both reached into their pockets and came out with money. Sandy took it.
"We only spent a couple bucks on beer," Butch said.
"Yeah, it's mostly here," she agreed.
"You don't have to have us arrested, do you?" Sundance said. "We've learned the error of our ways."
"We'll never rape a girl again," Butch joined in.
Sandy was enjoying their discomfort.
She said, "If we have them sent to jail, they'll find out what it's like to be raped. Plenty of hardened convicts with big dicks will bugger them."
The two rascals wailed in horror.
"We never hurt you or your friend," Butch said. "You even got your rocks off when I screwed you... "
"And your friend drank my cum," Sundance put in.
Jenkins shook them like a terrier shaking rats.
"Don't talk about women that way," he said.
But it was true, Sandy was thinking. She had come and she had enjoyed it and Jane had enjoyed it, too, although she wouldn't admit it afterwards. It didn't seem quite fair to send them to prison where they would most certainly not enjoy being raped up the ass by huge convict cocks.
Not that naughty Sandy would have minded an assful of convict cock, come to think of it. Sandy had been horny while she considered giving head to Jenkins in the car and she was still horny; the thought of prisoner prick, while it might have terrified the two heterosexual culprits, had quite a different effect on Sandy. She thought of being incarcerated in an all-male cell block and forced to service each and every one of the big-dicked inmates and her pussy began to flow incandescently. But it was an impossible dream, she knew; if she were ever sent to jail she would be sent to a woman's prison, where she would no doubt have to eat out prostitute pussy and munch murderess muff and tongue gun moll gash. Not that that was such a terrible idea, if the favor were returned...
She was daydreaming.
Jenkins interrupted her erotic fantasies, and said, "What shall I do with these bounders? I'll be pleased to give them a good thrashing, if you like."
Butch and Sundance squealed and squirmed, as frightened of a beating as they were of buggery.
Sandy smiled mysteriously.
"I think the punishment should fit the crime," she said.
Jenkins thought about that for a moment. How did one punish a rapist on the principle of an eye for an eye? Although he was a gentleman-or perhaps because he was a gentleman -he was not as imaginative as Sandy.
He said, "Well, I guess I could shove a tire iron up their assholes... "
"Eek!" said Sundance.
Butch burbled with horror.
Sandy said, "I was thinking more along the lines of meting out their punishment, myself; taking my own revenge... " Jenkins said, "You want me to hold them down while you shove tire irons up their asses, then?"
"Not exactly."
Jenkins still figured that she had penetration in mind.
He said, "I don't mind thrashing them, but I'm damned if I'll rape them for you... " Butch and Sundance were pleased to hear that.
But they, too, figured that their recent victim intended to penetrate their virgin assholes in some fashion, and plenty of squealing and squirming was going on. Sphincter muscles contracted in terrible foreboding. They did not relish the idea of having tire irons reaming them out but they were helpless in Jenkins' steel grip. They looked pleadingly at Sandy.
She said, "I thought maybe I should sit on their faces."
The two villains stopped struggling.
Jenkins considered the justice of that revenge.
"Sort of like raping their heads," Sandy said.
"Yeah, but... two absolute cads like this... why, they might even enjoy a punishment like that... "
"Oh, we'd hate it!" Sundance assured him.
"I'd rather be thrown into a briar patch than have a woman sit on my head," Butch added.
"That's the worst punishment ever devised for a rapist!"
"We'd rather have tire irons up our assholes!"
They protested so much that Jenkins, stern and righteous fellow that he was, saw that it was a fitting punishment, indeed.
"That's what we'll do," he said.
* * *
Sandy moved the mattresses together in the back of the van. Jenkins ordered the villains to recline on them. The scoundrels did so without protest, obviously resigned to their horrible fate and going stoically to the torture chamber. Jenkins gained a bit of admiration for them.
At least they were facing up to their fate. Jenkins sat against the closed doors of the van, arms folded across his broad chest, like a captain of a warship witnessing the flogging of mutineers.
Sandy lifted her dress and pulled down her panties.
Her crotch was so wet that Jenkins nodded his approval; placing that swamp in their faces would be akin to keelhauling-a worse fate than flogging.
Sandy knelt, straddling Butch's head. Her body hid his face from the resolute Jenkins and he grinned and winked up at the girl, his tongue sliding out like a plank over which her clitoris could walk.
"Take that!" she said, and she slapped her wet muff into his face like a sponge.
Butch began to tongue-fuck her, shooting the hot cunt lips right up her hole. She ground her hips, working the wet punishment around in his face. He gasped for air. Her cunt lips unfurled and she soaked his whole face with cunt juice.
She reached down with both hands, spreading her cunt lips wide open around his mouth.
"Ummm," he sighed.
Jenkins knew that it was a groan of agony and he nodded his stern approval.
Jenkins could not understand why his pecker was getting hard. He was no sadist.
Why should he get sexually aroused as he witnessed this well-deserved punishment?
It was one of those quirks of nature that a gentleman often failed to understand.
Sandy whimpered, then wailed.
She had been so horny that it took only a few moments; her cunt opened up and she washed his eager face with cunt juice.
"That," she said, "serves you right."
She switched to Sundance.
His mouth was watering for pussy and his head raised up to meet her descending crotch. She mopped his face with the wet snatch, wetting him from chin to brow, then settled into position with his lips voraciously slurping on her cunt. Her hips worked like pistons; her belly pumped and heaved.
Sundance fitted his lips to her cunt lips and sucked; his tongue shot up her hole like a scoop, spooning out great mouthfuls of slippery joy juice. He moaned with the pleasure of eating pussy, the sound muffled in her crotch and echoing in the chamber of her padded cunt.
It took longer this time. But not much.
Truly aroused by the whole situation, thrilled at having these two men totally in her mercy, Sandy soon soared to the heights again and her twat melted around Sundance's face like a pancake flowing out over a griddle.
She worked her crotch around in his face until she had milked out every spasm of her orgasm.
"Let that be a lesson to you, you fiend," she said.
Sundance was too busy swallowing cunt juice to reply.
Sandy dismounted from his head.
"Think they've had enough?" Jenkins said.
Sandy regarded their crotches. Both scoundrels had prominent erections; their jeans stood up like tents.
"Not quite," she said. "Frustration is the ultimate punishment for dastards of this ilk."
She had also noticed that Jenkins, whose dick was bigger than either of the other two, had a hard-on.
She nimbly opened Butch's fly and pulled his pecker out; she deftly hauled Sundance's dick from his jeans. The two cocks stood up side by side, like a picket fence.
"See how frustrated they are," she said.
Jenkins nodded. It was obvious that both of those neglected cocks were in need of orgasms.
"But not as frustrated as they're going to be," said the vendetta-minded rape victim.
She bent down and took Butch's sturdy prick into her mouth. She sucked vigorously on it for a moment, then drew away. His cock was pounding like a jackhammer.
She switched to Sundance, sucking his cockhead with gusto; when she withdrew, it was humming like a tuning fork.
"See how I'm punishing the rascals?" she said.
"Er... I think they enjoy it," Jenkins said.
Being a woman, he figured that she did not realize that she was being less than cruel.
She said, "But they won't, when I stop before they come... "
"Aha!" Jenkins said, getting the idea. "What a truly fiendish punishment that is!"
He actually felt sorry for the two villains; evil as they were, no man deserved this!
Sandy straddled Butch. She wrapped her hand around the root of his prick and slowly slipped her cunt down upon it. She went up and down a few times, then disengaged.
"Don't stop!" he wailed.
But Sandy was merciless in her vengeance.
She mounted Sundance and fed his pecker into her cunt, giving him several hot sheathings.
Then she pulled away, leaving him gasping, his cock thumping with frustration, banging at the air like a fist pounding on a table to summon a waiter.
"Now for the ultimate torment," she said.
She crawled up to Jenkins; opening his fly, she dragged his monstrous pecker out.
"Look at this, you villains," she said. "See what a full-sized dick looks like!"
Butch and Sundance looked with envy upon the gigantic dong on display before them.
"I can't understand why it's hard," Jenkins said, sheepishly.
Sandy went down on him. She gave his bulging cockhead a thorough mouthing, then pulled away.
"Hey! I don't need to be punished, too!" Jenkins cried, in horror, thinking that the woman had got so carried away that she was going to torture all and sundry.
"Of course not," she said. "You're going to fuck me and come in me while they watch with their cocks untouched!"
"My God! That's... diabolical!"
Sandy turned so that her back was to Jenkins. In that position, Butch and Sundance would be able to see all the juicy details as his huge dork went in and out of her slippery gash.
She slowly settled down onto his cock.
The head vanished up her cunt.
She squirmed down, feeding his tool inch by inch into her smoldering cunt, until it was buried to the hilt. His bloated balls jammed against her crotch. She rose up, lean thighs tensing. The stalk appeared, sliding out of her hole, creamy with cunt juice and bursting with vibrant potency.
Butch and Sundance reached automatically for their abandoned cocks, with masturbation in mind.
"Hands off those cocks!" Sandy cried.
Their hands reluctantly moved away. Their cocks were fairly screaming for relief but they were helpless; they could only watch in frustrated torment, while Sandy slid up and down on Jenkins' monstrous pole.
Sandy was really enjoying this.
She was getting fucked and she was enjoying having her recent tormentors watch. She reached down and spread her cunt lips wide open so that they could see his fat stalk glide up into the creamy hole.
Cunt juice poured down his cock as she rose up; then her hot sheath followed the juice down, sheathing him to the hilt.
"Come in me," she gasped.
As if obeying her command, Jenkins slammed his ass up and his peckerhead exploded deep in her womb. Sandy cried out with joy as she felt his hot geyser burst in her. He came with such force that she felt as if she had been standing astride a volcano when it erupted. His orgasm shook her pelvis and rattled her bones. She rose up and slammed down again, taking his second creamy jet as her own climax whacked her loins.
Sandy pumped merrily away until Jenkins was drained to the dregs, cock diminishing and balls deflated.
Then the woman smiled with happy contentment and pulled her pussy off his dong. She crawled back up to Butch and Sundance and sat once again on their faces, forcing them to tongue her sodden cunt clean as a hound dog's tooth.
She figured then that they had been punished sufficiently. Jenkins and Sandy left the van.
Jenkins paused before closing the doors; sticking his finger out at the two punished scoundrels, he said, "Don't let me catch you raping or robbing again or I'll find some leper pussy to mop your faces with."
They assured him they would law abide.
Jenkins slammed the van doors.
Butch and Sundance reached instantly for their tortured pricks and began to pump them up and down with vigor. They both shot within seconds, the creamy wads arcing up and crisscrossing in the air and splattering against the sides of the van. Trickling down, the congealing spunk made an interesting pattern which they left there, a nice complement to the vulture outside.
* * *
Jenkins drove toward Manhattan.
Seated beside him, Sandy did not so much as glance at his crotch. She had finally had enough for one day.
"I'm certainly glad that we recovered our money and luggage... and punished those fiends," she said.
"I hope they learned their lesson."
"Oh, I think they did," she said, ambiguously.
"Your friend will be pleased to find out that you've got your things back and that the rapists have been dealt with."
"Yes. I might not give her all the details," Sandy said. "She's a delicate, gentle girl...
she might be a bit upset if she knew how thoroughly we punished them."
"Not bloodthirsty, huh?"
More like cum-thirsty, thought Sandy. But she did not say it, because Jenkins was a gentleman and might not understand.
She was thinking of how avidly Jane had swallowed Sundance's spunk. Her enjoyment had been obvious; it was a shame that she had reacted so miserably afterwards. But she was an inhibited girl. Sandy wondered what she would do about getting a room without any money or identification.
Sandy would have been amazed.
And thrilled.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bill and Ed had dropped Jane off outside the hotel, a rather seedy place in the Village. She went into the lobby. The desk clerk was seated behind a wall of bulletproof glass and the inner door into the hotel itself was locked and could only be opened by the clerk's pressing of a buzzer. It intimidated the innocent young woman. But she didn't know where else to go. She stepped up to the glass and spoke into the grill, feeling as if she were visiting someone in jail.
"Could I have a room?"
"By the day or the hour?"
"Huh?"
"You a whore or you want to sleep?"
"Oh my goodness! I'm waiting here for my husband... " He squinted at her. Even to his jaded eye, Jane could not be mistaken for a whore.
"Okay," he said. "Twenty dollars."
"I... I'm afraid I won't have the money until my husband arrives," she stammered nervously.
"No money, no room."
"Oh dear!"
He turned away.
"I was robbed, you see."
"Go to welfare."
"I couldn't do that. I have money... I mean, I had money... but I was robbed and raped and... "
"Raped?" His ears perked up.
"I'm afraid so."
He looked at her more closely then. He could see why any man would be glad to rape her, gorgeous as she was.
She said, "They took all my cash and credit cards and my identification... if only you'll trust me... "
"Can't do it, lady."
"What will I do?" she wailed.
Another man came into the office from an inner room. He eyed Jane. He was a stout man with hair sprouting out of his ears. There was egg on his necktie.
"What's the trouble here?" he asked.
"Dame wants a room but she ain't got no money. Says she was robbed and raped."
"That ain't our worry. We didn't rob and rape her."
Then he looked at Jane more closely. The sour look on his face vanished. Jane really was adorable. His whole body started to vibrate. His cock stiffened. Even the hair sprouting out of his ears got hard.
He approached the glass, his eyes on her tits.
He said, "I'm Folliard, the manager. Maybe we can work something out between us."
"Oh, I hope so."
"Buzz her through," he said.
"I wish I was the manager," said the clerk, with envy, as he pressed the buzzer. Jane went through into the shabby lobby. Folliard stuck his head out from a side door and motioned for her to come. She followed him into his office. He went behind his desk and leaned on it, staring at her.
"You really was raped, huh?"
She nodded.
He said, "We get lots of whores staying here. Lots of them would rather give me some head than pay for the room."
"I'm not a whore."
"You're a rapee... ain't so much difference, the way the law looks at it." Jane gulped.
"You want to give me some head, you can have a room."
"Certainly not."
"Goodbye."
"But... I'm destitute... "
"You still got a head, lady."
"But my husband can pay as soon as he gets here... "
"I'd rather have the head, tell you the truth."
"You're disgusting!"
Folliard sighed. He said, "Look at it this way, lady. If you give me one measly blow-job, you got a place to stay. You'll be safe. If you don't, you got to go out in the streets, sleep in the park. A looker like you, destitute on the streets, you're certain to get raped nine, ten times. And that's just tonight. You might get beat up, you might get killed, but it's a certainty that you'll get raped. And it won't be hotel-manager dick what gets into you, either. It'll be lower-class dick. Ethnic dick. You'll get gang-banged. You'll get buggered. You'll have to drink wino scum. Suit yourself, that's what you want."
Jane gave a gasping sob.
Folliard, his case stated, leaned back from the desk.
Jane noticed that the lump in his pants was sizeable.
This was coercion. In her predicament, this horrible man was forcing her just as surely as the rapist had.
And yet... once forced to go down on Sundance, she had to admit that she had enjoyed it... and when the pseudo cops had conned her into a head and tail job, it had not been unpleasant. Did the end justify the means?
Folliard interrupted her indecision.
He said, "Give me a gobble and you can go straight up to a room. You can take a nice warm bath. You can brush your teeth and get the taste of cum out of your mouth. If you choose to go out and get raped by hordes of bowery bums, you'll have to walk around covered in cum-that's if they don't kill you."
There was a lot to be said for it, she realized.
He was an unsightly fellow but he was, at least, a respectable hotel manager...
And the bulge in his pants was rather attractive.
It wasn't as if the poor girl had any choice in the matter, it was simply a case of choosing the lesser of two evils.
Suddenly she giggled.
He wanted a blow-job! It would make the fourth man she had had that day, and not one of them had broached her cunt.
She said, "Would you settle for a fuck?"
He looked startled.
"Certainly not," he said. He blushed at the suggestion. "I'm a happily married man," he said. "I don't commit adultery. Head don't count."
Jane sighed. Maybe it was all for the better, though. If she went down on him she wouldn't have to look at his ugly face and hairy ears while he screwed her. If his cock was sightly and shapely, she could pretend that he was handsome.
"I have no choice," she said.
"It's for your own good," he told her, and he patted his bulging crotch with a pudgy hand.
The big lump swelled like a balloon. Folliard leered through his fat and hauled the big lump from his fly.
Jane regarded the meaty handful with a mixture of revulsion and lust. It was the fattest dick that she had ever encountered. The suety slab lolled in Folliard's hand like a monstrous bloated snake.
He frigged along its length a few times before dipping his hand back into his fly and bringing forth his huge balls. They hung down over his trousers like great water-filled balloons, threatening to drop under their weight.
Jane gazed at his crotch in fascination. I'm going to suck that! she thought. I'm going to take that disgusting thing in my mouth!
Her mouth watered.
She licked her lips.
Her drooling had not gone unnoticed. Folliard lumbered towards her.
"Get down on your knees and suck it," he rasped.
Jane hesitated. Her inclination was to turn and run headlong into the streets and face whatever hazard awaited but then, as she eyed his bloated pecker, she found herself washed by waves of lust.
She sank to her knees before him.
Still she hesitated.
Folliard thrust his hips forward, banging his big purple peckerhead against Jane's tightly closed lips.
"Open your mouth and gobble it," he barked.
Jane closed her eyes and slowly opened her mouth.
Her lips slipped over the head of his dick and she began to suck slowly. The big knob swelled in her mouth-and she liked it. She opened her eyes and looked down his rigid shaft tapering away from her-and hungered to travel its length.
Folliard gave a fucking motion with his hips, pushing his cock into her mouth. The big knob pushed at her cheeks so that they bulged out and the tip wedged in her throat.
Jane gasped, gagging, and drew back as his peckerhead scraped the back of her throat.
Folliard took her head in both pudgy hands and lunged in again.
This time Jane pursed her lips tightly, holding his prick in a tight collar as it forged in over her tongue and into her throat. Her cheeks caved in as she sucked, gripping his stalk in a wet suction.
Folliard began to heave in and out furiously, pulling her mouth onto his dick like a finger into a glove. Jane loved it. Her lips clamped on his rod as he withdrew, then parted as he plowed back in. Her tongue lashed back and forth, laving the underside of his fat prick. Her head bobbed up and down as he plunged into her face, his heavy cum-laden balls slapping into her chin.
He clamped his pudgy fingers into her hair, push-pulling her head up and down his rod. His big cockhead slipped into her cheek, slid along the roof of her mouth, folded her tongue up around it and glided back into her throat.
She avoided looking up at his face.
Her eyes were turned inwards as she gazed at his fat cock, looking cross-eyed-or cock-eyed -at the thick root as it appeared and then vanished into her face.
Suddenly he started to tremble, his whole fat body shaking on his bones.
"Gonna blow!" he rasped.
Jane sucked ravenously.
Folliard groaned and his dick exploded. He hosed her throat like a fire extinguisher spraying foam on an inferno and Jane gulped it down and sucked for more. He blew a second spurt into her, and then a third, filling her mouth and whitewashing her tonsils. Cum poured down her throat. She gulped greedily.
He pulled away and his cock, already starting to soften and shrink, popped from her lips.
She sucked after it, giving the knob a flashing tongue stroke as it retreated.
She looked up at him, smiling-then shuddered as she saw how truly ugly he was. His dick had been lovely but she hated to see the body to which it was attached.
He tucked his cock away and zippered his fly.
"Okay, you got a room," he said. "Bath or shower?"
"You already gave me a hot shower," she said.
* * *
Jane went up to her room and drew a bath. She had no toothbrush but that didn't matter because the taste of spunk lingering on her tongue was pleasant. She was certainly having quite a few strange experiences in "fun city", she thought, as she wallowed in the warm water. And the best part of it was-she was blameless!
She had sucked three men off and had been fucked up the ass and not one of those affairs had been her fault; force and necessity had combined to fill her with cum yet leave her with no feelings of guilt.
But she had not been fucked in the cunt. She sort of regretted that-in her blameless way.
Jane figured that her adventures were over. But she was wrong...
CHAPTER EIGHT
Brock Jenkins stopped his car in front of the Duke. He looked at the seedy facade questioningly.
"I've never been here before," Sandy told him, rather ashamed of the place. Sandy was no snob, herself, but she had an idea that her gentleman friend might be. "My husband used to stay here when he came to New York years ago, when he was in school; I guess the neighborhood has gone down since then."
Jenkins made a noncommittal sound.
Sandy said, "Well, I'll run in and see if Jane is registered or tried to register. I suppose... if she isn't here, Brock, I suppose I could stay with you tonight, huh?"
He nodded.
"Want me to come in with you?"
"I think not," Sandy said. She didn't know how Jane would react if she were to show up with a man. "But if you can wait for me here, while I check...?"
She didn't really expect Jane to be there. Although she was ashamed of herself for feeling that way, she would have preferred to not find Jane yet-not until she'd had a chance to spend at least one night alone with Jenkins. This desire surprised her. Sandy had never been an unfaithful wife before. She'd thought about it often enough but never actually did it, or intended to do it even while thinking about it. She wondered if being raped had changed her attitudes, or if it was simply that this was the first time she had ever been away from her husband for any length of time. She didn't feel guilty, either; circumstances had justified her behavior and she was able to rationalize away her guilt just as nicely as Jane did.
She got out of the car, smiled at Jenkins and went up the concrete steps into the enclosed entrance.
The desk clerk regarded her speculatively. She didn't look like a whore, either, and he was surprised. It was not often that two sexy non-whores arrived at the Duke in the same day. He wondered if that horny pig, Folliard, was going to be doubly lucky.
Sandy approached the bulletproof glass.
"Is Mrs. Jane Conway registered here?"
"Yep," he said, immediately, not even bothering to check the book. He had heard those moist slurpings from Folliard's office and was not about to forget Jane Conway. He longed for the day when he was a hotel manager, himself, instead of an unblown desk clerk. "She checked in about an hour ago."
"She did! Well, I'd like to go to her room, please."
"No guests allowed."
"What?"
"Nobody goes through that door unless they've paid for a room," the clerk told her. "We let unregistered visitors in, first thing you know we'd have a dozen people sharing a single."
"I see," Sandy said. The neighborhood really had gone down-or else her husband had come up in the world.
"Well, will you ring her, please?"
"No phones in the rooms."
"Well, how do I contact her, then?"
He shrugged. "You can wait here until she comes out or you can leave a message or you can pay for a room."
Sandy sighed. Well, she would have to get a room here eventually, anyhow, since John expected to meet her here. She was still hoping to spend some time with Jenkins but having a room would not necessarily disrupt those plans.
"All right," she said. "I'll take a room. A double. My husband will be joining me later."
"I guess you aren't a whore," he said. "Certainly not."
"I got to ask. I knew you weren't, though, since you're a friend of Mrs. Conway, who also ain't." He squinted. "Say, were you raped, too?"
Sandy gasped.
Why on earth had Jane told this fellow about that?"
But then she remembered that Jane had no money or credit cards and she knew that her friend must have explained her misfortune in order to get a room.
"Yes, I was," she said.
The desk clerk sighed, his emotions divided between envy and vicarious pleasure. Lucky Folliard! Oh, the benefits that came with managing a sordid hotel!
He said, "You'll want to see the manager then."
"I don't see why," said Jane, but the clerk had already left the counter. He knocked on the inner door. Folliard came out, looking smug.
"Got another blow-job, Mister Folliard."
Folliard's eyebrows shot up and the hair in his ears bristled. He looked at Sandy through the glass and smiled. She was not quite as sexy as Jane, perhaps, but she was very nice. It would be no hard ship to dip his dick into her face. He waddled up to the glass, grinning hugely.
"You're paying by head, huh?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"She's the girl that was raped with Mrs. Conway," the clerk told him, to get things straight.
"Ah, yes. Well, we try to accommodate. If you'll step into my office, we can settle your account."
"I don't understand... "
"You do want to blow me for a room?"
"I most certainly do not!"
Folliard looked flustered.
"You don't want a room?"
"I want a room. I don't want to blow you.
There seems to be a misunderstanding here."
"But you have no money."
"Of course I have money. I think you must be mistaking me for someone else. I'll pay for my room in cash."
She took her money out.
She couldn't understand why the manager looked unhappy at the prospect of being paid.
"In fact, I'll pay for Mrs. Conway's rooms, as well."
"That's already taken care of."
"Oh? Jane had money?"
"Well, no... but she took care of it."
"I don't see... I... " The penny dropped! Sandy's eyes widened.
"She didn't!"
Folliard blushed and nodded.
"Jane gave you a blow-job for a room?"
"That's correct. She thought it preferable to being raped on the streets."
"Well, I'll be damned!" Sandy exclaimed.
Then she started to laugh. She was very glad that she had found out about that, especially after the scene that Jane had pulled on the beach, the recriminations and the accusations. So Jane was learning about necessity now, too; learning that it was better to make the most of a situation and get by as best one could! Sandy felt quite proud of her friend.
"Tell me... did she enjoy it?"
"I believe so," Folliard said. "Not meaning to sound immodest, but yes, I think she did."
"Did she swallow it?"
"Every drop."
Sandy grinned. She almost wished that she were broke, so that she, too, could experience the sordid thrill of giving a blow-job in lieu of rent. In fact, had Folliard been less repulsive, she might well have struck a deal.
As it was, she paid with money.
Folliard retreated to his office, looking glum, and the desk clerk, looking very smug at his boss' sad disappointment, buzzed Sandy through to the hotel.
Sandy went up to Jane's room.
* * *
"Who is it?" Jane called, when Sandy knocked.
"It's me, honey."
"Oh! Come on in."
Jane was lying on the bed, naked, still damp from the shower. Sandy crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed.
"So you got here," Sandy said.
"I got a ride."
"I was worried."
"Where have you been?" Jane asked.
"I have good news. I've recovered all our money and suitcases and our handbags. Except for a few dollars."
"Oh!" Jane exclaimed, delighted. "But... how?"
"This wonderful man gave me a lift and we stopped at his motel so I could call the cops and then he was driving me in here and I spotted that van. He dealt with Butch and Sundance very handily. But it took time, that's why I wasn't here sooner."
"That's great! Are they in jail?"
"No. I didn't figure you would want to have to appear at a trial. I sure didn't. Anyhow, I don't see any reason why our husbands have to know about it, huh?"
"You're right. It would be embarrassing."
"And we punished them."
"Oh? How?"
"My friend made them lie down in the back of the van and I sat on their faces... " Jane looked shocked. She blushed. "Are you serious?"
"Um-hum. I came, too."
"Why, that's awful!"
"I figured you'd be shocked," said Sandy.
"How could you?"
Sandy was smiling mysteriously.
"How could you get a room without any money, by the way?" she asked, innocent as could be.
"Er... I explained my situation and... errr... "
"It's funny," said Sandy. "When I checked in, the manager asked if I wanted to suck him off... " Jane was red as a beet; she turned her eyes away.
"Whatever made him ask a thing like that?"
"I... don't know," Jane stammered. "Maybe you just sort of looked like a cock-sucker, you think?"
"Or maybe you already blew him?"
Jane gasped. She knew the jig was up.
"Oh, I did," she said. "I had to! That horrid man!"
"Swallowed his cum, too, didn't you?"
Jane was finished with deception.
She said, "Yes! And that's not all. After you left me on the beach I gave myself a hand-job... and two men came along and said they were cops and... one fucked me in the mouth and the other fucked me up the ass...
Now Sandy was startled.
Her prudish friend had got more than she had!
She patted Jane on the shoulder, and said, "Don't feel bad, honey. I fucked the gentleman who gave me a lift. Twice. So we don't have to be embarrassed with each other; we're both naughty."
Jane was very relieved to find that Sandy was not going to cast any blame on her. She even managed to smile and they smiled conspiratorially at each other.
"Our husbands will never find out that we've fucked other men," Sandy said. "What they don't know won't hurt them... "
"That's the funny part about it," said Jane. "With all the cocksucking and buggery... I haven't been fucked!"
"Incredible!"
"I don't even have to lie to Mark. When he asks if I've been unfaithful, I can say, in all honesty, that I haven't fucked anyone else."
That was such a nice point of honesty that Sandy laughed.
"But... it's left me so horny," Jane admitted.
"Yeah, I can understand that. Sucking dick all day and taking it up the ass, you must really be ready for a fuck."
"I sure am."
"I'll tell you what! My friend is waiting downstairs; why don't I ask him to come up and fuck you?"
Jane looked interested.
"Would he rape me?" she asked.
"Certainly not. He's a gentleman. Anyhow, how can he rape you if you ask him to fuck you?"
"Well, that's no good, then. I wouldn't mind having him fuck me against my will, but I can't cheat on Mark."
Sandy saw that was a difficulty.
"I'll just have to suffer until Mark gets here, I guess," said Jane, sadly. "My poor pussy is so hot... " Sandy looked down at the pussy in question. It was hot, all right, make no mistake about that. The cunt lips were unfurled and the slot was flooded and the love-bud was standing to attention. Her cunt was so hot that it was steaming.
Jane said, "There's nothing I can do... " Sandy was thinking about her previous fantasy-about being locked up in a woman's prison, where she would be forced to suck prisoner pussy and convict cunt. It had been an erotic concept. Sandy had never sucked a pussy. She was curious. She also felt very sorry for her poor friend, who had been sucking like a sump pump all day and got not a thing in return.
She said, "Maybe I could help you out, honey... "
"How?"' "Well, I can't rape you... but I could... if you liked... I could suck you off... " Jane gasped.
"If you wanted me to, I mean... "
"But... that's what lesbians do!"
"Yeah, but I'm not a lesbian, so it wouldn't be as if we were doing something perverted."
Now Jane pondered a nice point of logic.
Her cunt really was hot.
"That's true," she said.
Her crotch felt as if it were about to vaporize.
"If you wouldn't mind... " she whispered.
Sandy smiled. She ran her hand up the inside of Jane's slick thigh. Jane quivered. Sandy brushed her fingertips up the girl's sodden crack. Jane whimpered. Jane closed her eyes. Sandy slowly pushed her middle finger up the hot hole and felt Jane's quim pull demandingly on her.
"I wouldn't mind at all," she said.
And she went down on Jane...
Although she had never eaten a pussy before, Sandy knew how to do it instinctively. Knowing how she liked it, herself, she knew just how Jane would like it.
She used only her tongue at first, running the flattened surface up Jane's steaming slot and across her clit with lusty slurps. Then she stiffened her tongue and stabbed it as far up the hole as it would go, tongue fucking her friend with a steady rhythm. She fitted her lips to Jane's cunt lips and began to suck with gusto. Cunt juice ran over her stabbing tongue and into her mouth. She let it trickle down her throat.
"Ooooh... I like it!" she gasped.
She had had no idea that sucking a cunt would be such a rare pleasure. She began to gobble ravenously.
"So do I!" Jane wailed.
Her hips worked like pistons and she thrashed about wildly, abandoned to animal lust, all her emotions melting as surely as her twat was melting.
Sandy was using her tongue, her lips, her teeth; she rubbed her whole face around in that slippery cunt, sighing and gurgling with pleasure as she discovered the joy of cunt sucking. Her tongue spooned out creamy dollops of pussy nectar and her lips pulled ribbons of pearly juice from that tasty hole. She was panting heavily, her hot breath billowing right up inside Jane's cunt. Jane's whole crotch was awash with saliva and cunt juice, her clitoris was taut and trembling, like a. little rocket about to launch itself into the heavens of Sandy's worshipping mouth.
She clamped her thighs about Sandy's face.
"Come," Sandy whimpered. "Come for me, baby... " Her words echoed up Jane's cunt as if it were a sound box, so that Jane felt the rippling syllables rather than hearing them. Her pussy began to cream. It began to ignite. She would not have been surprised if it had suddenly burst into flames.
"I will... I am... " she wailed.
Her clit slid onto Sandy's tongue, gliding fluidly over the slippery surface.
She went off like a machine gun, her orgasms coming one upon the other in rapid sequence, each peak higher than the one before and followed immediately by one yet higher, until she was clawing at the bed and screaming with joy and pouring so much cunt juice into Sandy's eager mouth that she felt her whole body had turned to cunt cream.
"Ahhh," she sighed as she passed the peak.
Sandy continued to tongue and suck, eager to drain every succulent drop from that delicious quim.
Sandy's ears were muffled between Jane's thighs.
Jane had a drumming in her own ears.
That was why neither of them heard Brock Jenkins knock on the door... and why he walked in uninvited...
* * *
Jenkins had waited patiently in the car.
But after a while he began to worry about Sandy, for it was plain that the Duke Hotel was an unsavory place. He went in and inquired. Told that both girls had checked in, he decided to bring their luggage in, for he really was a polite fellow. But when he came in with the suitcases, the desk clerk explained that he would have to pay for a room before he could be allowed inside. This didn't seem quite right to Jenkins and he argued but the clerk, safe behind his bulletproof-and punchproof- glass, was firm. Jenkins had to pay for a room.
This made Jenkins even more suspicious of the hotel. It looked the sort of place from whence innocent girls would be sold into white slavery.
He was even more suspicious when he located Jane's room and heard all the panting and wailing and slurping that was going on behind that door.
He knocked, but there was no reply.
It occurred to him that perhaps the girls were gagged-with cocks, possibly-and so, although normally he would never have opened a door without being invited, he did so.
He was taken aback by the scene before him.
He blinked, but the scene was still there. There could be no mistake. Sandy was eating the other girl's pussy. Jenkins could see her nimble tongue slide up the gash and he could see streamers of cunt juice pouring out.
He stood just inside the door, not quite sure what he should do under the circumstances.
Then Jane was drained and Sandy raised her head and both girls noticed the bemused gentleman.
Sandy blushed a bit, but said, "Oh, hi." To Jane, she said, "This is my friend, Brock."
Jane said, "How do you do," because she could think of nothing else to say.
Jenkins was looking most suspicious.
He said, "How come your friend is punishing you, Sandy?"
"Huh?" said Sandy.
"Why is she punishing you the same way that you punished those dastardly rapists? Did you do something wrong?"
Sandy giggled, and said, "Naw, it's not the same thing when two girls do it."
Jane was looking bewildered.
"Brock is a gentleman," Sandy explained. "He doesn't understand about cunt sucking."
"That's true," he said. "It's funny, though. My cock is hard again. Why should that be?"
It was definitely hard. It stood out in bas relief, big and bold and welcome.
"Oh, if only he were a rapist!" Jane said.
Sandy saw how she could help her friend.
She said, "As a matter of fact, Brock... she did punish me. I didn't realize it, until you brought it to my attention, but that's exactly what she did. The wicked girl punished me when I hadn't done anything wrong."
"That's not right," he said. "It certainly isn't. I think you should avenge me."
"Gladly," he said, ever the man to right a wrong. "Shall I hold her down while you sit on her face?"
"No, I think you should grab her with your big prick."
"She might like that," he said, for although many points of human behavior escaped him, Jenkins knew that women usually enjoyed having his dick up them.
"Not her," said Sandy.
"Not me!" cried Jane, taking up her cue. "I'd rather fall in a hole than get fucked by your huge cock!"
"Well, that's settled, then," said Jenkins, and he whipped his monster pecker out and advanced upon the bed. Jane opened her legs wide and if he hadn't known better he would have thought that she was eager to have him slip the pork to her-but he knew that she was simply resigned to her fate and, quite logically, wanted to get it over with as fast as possible.
He knelt between her thighs and fitted the huge knob to her soaking gash.
"Take that," he said, and he shoveled his dick in to the hilt with one powerful thrust.
"Oh! Oh, yes! I mean... oh, no! Anything but that!"
Jenkins had never punished a woman before and he regretted the necessity, but he knew his duty. He was stern and resolute. She had committed a wrong and she had to be punished and he steeled himself against her pitiful protests and punished her with his steel-hard prick, beating the meat up her cunt with vigor.
Sandy knelt behind him and began to lick his balls.
He wondered why she was doing that, but figured it was some subtle point of punishment that he failed to comprehend. He had never understood Kafka, either.
Jane, fucked at last, cried, "Oh, don't come in me!"
And Jenkins blew his load up her cunt with such force that his ass was thrown back on the recoil, banging into Sandy's face and impaling his asshole on her tongue.
He plowed in, shooting a second hot spurt.
Sandy followed him in, furiously lapping at his balls, and Jane rammed her pelvis down to meet his thrust as her cunt melted around his pecker.
Jane squirmed and writhed as she pumped her climax out to the end; she was smiling happily.
Jenkins spilled the last spurt into her and withdrew.
He looked very suspicious.
Sandy said, "She's writhing in agony, Brock."
"Yeah? Then how come she's smiling?"
"That's a grimace... "
"Oh," he said. But it was a smile, really. "It's true, what they say, thought Jane, happily. New York is "fun city"!
