"Why not?" Tom Hansen replied quickly. "That's what we came here for."
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes directly in line with his crotch. Tom's body tingled with anticipation as he reached for his belt buckle.
"Want me to do that for you?" she asked.
"Sure," he answered, pleased at the offer. "Sure. But only if you want to."
Linda replied with a smile. She placed her hands at his belt and fumbled with it for a moment before loosening the buckle. Then she unfastened the snap on his pants and reached for his zipper. Tom felt his manhood swell instantly.
"Wait," he said, catching her forearm in midair. "Feel this."
He pressed her hand against the bulge which now stretched the front of his pants.
"Wow!" Linda grinned as she felt the hardness beneath her palm and fingers. "It's stiff already!"
"Sure it is, baby. You turn it on."
A contented smile rested on Linda's face as she eagerly kneaded Tom's meat with her fingers.
Tom closed his eyes and let Linda work. The delicate probing felt incredibly good; it seemed like ages since he'd had his prick massaged.
"Linda," he said in a voice rising with excitement, "would you like to see it?"
"Sure," she replied agreeably, looking up at him with wide, dark eyes which blended perfectly with her summer-tanned skin.
Linda reached for the zipper and yanked it down. Tom knew her next move, knew all her moves; he thought this familiarity was the most pressing problem in their marriage, and he didn't know how to solve it. She would now unhurriedly take off his shoes and socks before pulling down his pants. Only after all that was finished would she look at his loins and tend to them.
He caught Linda's eyes; they flashed a mischievous look at him as she swung her head to resettle her satiny black tresses on her shoulders.
"Let's get that thing out now!", she said suddenly.
"What?"
"I said, let's get that thing out now."
Linda's hand darted out and found the opening in Tom's shorts. She slipped her long fingers inside and groped in search of his hardon. She soon found it, and the warmth of her fingers sliding over his prick sent shivers of delight through Tom Hansen's body.
"Sensitive tonight, aren't we?" Linda inquired playfully. His prick was so swollen and anxious that he'd recoiled at her touch.
"Can't help it honey," Tom whispered through his teeth as he began to move his pelvis back and forth in rhythm to Linda's massage. He rested his hands on her shoulders to brace himself, and dropped his gaze to study her.
Linda Hansen was intent on her work, and her face radiated excitement and pleasure--making her features even more spectacularly beautiful than usual. Her coloring was fantastic: mellow shades of dark and tan merging to create an aura of sensuality and mystery. Her eyes were wide and dark, and they sparkled now as they focused on his crotch. Her perfectly formed eyebrows were arched with anticipation, and her ruby-red lips glistened with moisture.
She's a beautiful young girl all right, Tom thought. But it's her mouth--that large, lush mouth--that's her best feature. It's a shame it goes unused. But maybe tonight...
Suddenly Tom felt his cock spring free from his pants.
"There!" Linda exclaimed proudly, as though she'd captured an elusive quarry.
Tom's seven-inch rod jutted through his open fly like a steel prong. He could hardly believe what Linda had just done; she'd never deviated from routine before. But he didn't have time to analyze her motivation. All he knew was that his stiff cock was scant inches from her lips, and it was driving him crazy.
"You're in a racy mood tonight," Tom said as calmly as he could, forcing a grin.
"Like you said," Linda smiled, "this is what we came here for." Her eyes remained riveted to his cock as she spoke.
It was at Tom's insistence that the Hansens had left their small daughter with a babysitter and gone to spend the evening at this motel. Linda resisted the idea for days, but Tom argued that they needed a dash of excitement in their lives, and that the overnight stay would be like another honeymoon. After a week , of bickering. Linda finally gave in.
"Tom?" Linda said softly, finally taking her eyes off his prick to look directly up at him.
"Linda?" Tom replied over-dramatically and humorously as he swayed to and fro while she massaged his cock.
"I love you," she said very sincerely.
Here I am, Tom thought, standing with my dick in front of her beautiful face, and she thinks about love. I'm ready to get it on, and she's ready to talk about love. But that was the way Linda worked: sex had to take place within the framework of affection, love and marriage. And tonight, Tom was going to provide Linda with whatever she wanted.
"I love you too, Linda," he responded, running his hands over her shoulders in affectionate confirmation.
Linda's hands again reached out and slowly caressed his hard cock. Her fingers were delicate and incredibly sensitive, turned by years of classical piano training into subtle instruments of pure feeling. Without realizing it, Tom mused, her parents had made an investment which was paying handsome dividends for him.
"You like playing with me tonight," he said, gritting his teeth as her light touches on his hard shaft sent tremors of excitement to his very bowels.
"Yes, I do," Linda returned honestly.
"Why?"
"Why? I don't know why."
They were into a ritual now. Her eagerness to expose his prick was brand new, but this kind of conversation was not. Tom thought straight talk would be therapy for her, would make her emerge from the shell she'd constructed around her sensuality. Linda had always quickly cut off the conversation, and the therapy technique had never made it to first base.
"There must be a reason you like it," he pressed. "There has to be a reason when you like something."
"I guess it's because of the way I feel about you," she shrugged. Tom winced; that wasn't what he wanted to hear. He didn't want any of that love shit.
"My nose is me too," he said quickly. "I don't see you staring at my nose and rubbing that."
"I guess you've got a point there," Linda giggled, kneading Tom's hard meat faster now, her eyes burning directly into the hole at the end of his organ.
"Then why do you like my dick?"
"Tom!"
For the very first time, Linda's response to what she called a "vulgarity" was more playful than shocked. Maybe the therapy would be given a chance tonight. Maybe it would even work.
"I said, why do you like my dick?"
"I told you, I don't know. Maybe... "
"Maybe what?"
"Maybe because it's interesting, or something. Let's get these pants off," she said briskly.
Linda tugged at his slacks and pulled them down to his ankles. Then, she pulled his shorts over his outstretched hardon. Another departure from routine, Tom reflected.
"Why is my dick interesting?" Tom persisted as he bent down to remove his clothes. He was like an attorney. He was going to pursue Linda into a corner until she came up with specifics.
"Because it's so... commanding."
"Commanding?"
Tom noticed that Linda was staring directly at his rigid rod again, and her big eyes had a dreamy cast about them.
"Yes, commanding. It's sticking straight up like a soldier on guard duty, standing at attention." Linda grasped the stiff organ and ran her fingers over it reverently, as if in awe of it.
"Go on," Tom hissed through his teeth. His loins were straining under Linda's tender touch. He fought the impulse to lunge forward and shove his prick past Linda's lush lips and right down into her throat.
"It's fierce," she continued. "All red and angry. It's demanding attention."
"Do you like it?"
"Yes, I like it. I like it very much."
'Would you like to kiss it?"
Linda's eyes darted up at him, making a verbal reply unnecessary. Her look said it all: he had gone too far. Tom panicked--he didn't want to lose this rare chance to take advantage of Linda's genuinely lustful mood.
He quickly bent down and pressed his lips against hers in a passionate kiss, hoping to distract her attention from that last interchange. Linda's response was tentative at best; her lips seemed limp and unwilling. But, Tom realized, her hands were still at work on his cock, and so he continued to try to pry her mouth open.
She came alive again in an instant. Tom was surprised to feel her mouth open wide and her tongue brush past his own to dart into his mouth. It roamed around inside him in hot, searching circles. Her hands moved faster on his cock now, the fingers tugging at the sensitive skin housing his meat and tracing the bulbous red rim at the head of his shaft.
Linda was anxious, hot and anxious, and Tom could barely contain himself. He wanted to shove her on the bed, rip off her panties, and ram his prick right up that steaming, hairy cunt of hers. But now wasn't. the right moment, he knew. He had to be patient, he had to bide his time.
Suddenly, Linda broke off the embrace.
"That was good," Tom said contentedly, peppering her cheek and neck with kisses. "Let's not stop now."
"Shouldn't we call home?" Linda asked, looking up at him. "Or maybe call the folks?" Her hands no longer moved over his dick. They were still warm and comfortable, but they were just resting.
Tom wanted to explode. Her goddamned parents. Sometimes he felt he'd married them too. He'd done his best to make it on his own, hoping that would wean Linda from them. But things were tough enough for a young photographer in normal times, and the recession had tightened the squeeze even further. He'd lost his job, and been forced to join Andrew Marsh's ad agency. The pride Tom had swallowed stuck in his throat like a grapefruit, and he couldn't wait for the day he got out from under his father-in-law.
"The baby will be fine," Tom said softly. "We left her only an hour ago, and Melody's an extremely responsible sitter."
"But no one knows where we are," Linda protested. "Couldn't we call my folks and tell them now? Suppose there's an emergency."
Tom dropped his hands to Linda's shoulders, and continued in his reassuring tone of voice.
"If there's an emergency, your parents are quite capable of handling it." Tom's hard prick wavered perilously close to Linda's wet mouth as he spoke, but she didn't even seem to notice. "They've got lots of experience--they did a heck of a good job raising you, didn't they?"
"I suppose you're right," Linda smiled, succumbing to the flattery in his remark.
"I am," he said quickly. "So let's get it on! Hey--how about some pictures? I brought along the Polaroid."
Tom walked quickly to the suitcase by the door and snapped it open.
"Pictures?" Linda asked, puzzled. "Of what!"
"Of us, of course," Tom replied nonchalantly. He rummaged through the clothes until he found the camera. He picked it up reverently, appreciative of the fine instrument he had in his hands. It was the $2800 industrial model; he'd sneaked it out of the agency for the weekend.
Tom was amazed to see a giddy smile on Linda's face when he turned and walked back to her.
"You mean pictures of us... doing things?"
Linda's reaction indicated she was enthusiastic about Tom's suggestion. Tom thought he was going to have to coax her, and that his efforts would end unsuccessfully anyway.
"Right. We can't get everything--there's no automatic timer on this dude--but we can improvise."
"I want a picture of that," Linda said eagerly, pointing at the stiff prick pointing at her.
"Sure. Take the camera." Tom was damn near in a state of shock, but he wasn't about to let on.
"I never even gave anything like this a thought," Linda said animatedly as she took the camera with sure hands and scooted back across the bed. "It sounds exciting! Just give me a minute to get things in focus."
Linda had worked part-time at her father's agency since she was a teenager, and was a skilled photographer in her own right. She put her eye to the viewfinder, and twisted the lens expertly.
"Wow!" she exclaimed, laughing. "I've never seen anything like this in a camera before! Move around to the side a little, so I can get a good angle of it sticking straight out from you."
Tom suddenly felt awkward and self-conscious, but he followed his wife's orders.
"Now spread your legs a little," she commanded. "Okay--that's good!"
The shutter clicked and the film instantly shot out of a slot at the camera's base. Linda took it and placed it on the bed alongside her. The film was the new self-developing variety, but it was a special industrial version which produced a finished photo far more quickly than the consumer model.
"Come here Tom," Linda motioned to him, patting the bed. "We can watch it develop before our very eyes, as they say! Bet they'll never put anything like this into a TV commercial though!"
Tom and Linda stared at the blurry mass of color until it began to come into focus.
"Look!" Linda grabbed Tom's shoulder excitedly. "Your penis is emerging before anything else!"
Due to the heavy concentration of red in Tom's engorged prick, it did indeed develop first. It appeared alone, surrounded only by vague flesh tones and the blur of Tom's pale yellow shirt.
"It seems to be floating around by itself," Linda shouted exuberantly. "It looks like the Goodyear Blimp!"
Tom watched Linda gaze at the emerging prick with total concentration--and with a sly grin curling the corners of her mouth.
"Like that?" he inquired.
"Yes. Very much." Her eyes never left the photo.
Sexual desire had now possessed Tom Hansen completely. His erection was so stiff that it pained him; it's time to get her interested in the real thing, he decided.
Tom reached over and unbuttoned her blouse; Linda didn't seem to notice what he was doing. He pulled the left sleeve over her shoulders and then lifted her arms to let the blouse fall off. The arms were limp, lifeless. Linda seemed to be in a dream world all her own, and Tom took the opportunity to gaze at what he had revealed.
Linda's full breasts brimmed over the top of her white bra to form an unusually high cleavage. Her boobs were extremely pendulous, and a bra bunched them up. With clothes on, it looked like she had an average-size chest. Only when the clothes came off did it become apparent just how fully endowed she was.
Tom, his loins throbbing with desire, could not wait any longer to see her beautiful mammaries. He reached behind her and fumbled with the snap until it unclasped. He drew the straps over Linda's shoulders and down her arms.
Linda's tits tumbled free as the bra fell away, cascading down her torso like a waterfall over the side of a mountain. They fell until they swayed loosely just above her belly-button, wide globes set off by pert pink nipples whose color contrasted sharply with Linda's dark skin. The nipples were taut little darts which signalled Linda's full arousal.
Tom bent and hungrily sucked on Linda's left nipple. He felt her arms wrap around him and hold him gently as he licked and tugged at the rigid protuberance. Low moans began to come from her long, lovely throat.
"That's wonderful, baby," she breathed huskily. "Just wonderful. Kiss me, kiss me all over."
Tom felt his tool swell even further at her invitation. He could hardly believe his ears, but there was only one way to interpret her request--she wanted him to eat her out. She'd let him do that only once before, and then only long enough to learn that she "didn't like it."
But this time was going to be different, Tom thought as he kissed his way down from her nipple to the bottom of her breast and her taut midriff. Linda arched back and slumped against the bed, inviting him to work on her. He accepted her offer, and smothered her belly with wet kisses as he worked his own pelvis around so that he could press his prick into Linda's ribcage.
Tom then slipped his fingers into her pantyhose and awkwardly pushed on them, probing down her belly with his hungry tongue as far as he could until being stopped by the elastic. He could taste the little filmy hairs which grew in a dark row up to her navel. Linda's pussy was unusually hairy, and he loved every inch of it. He wanted to bury himself in that thick muff and lick it, make it come alive.
But the skirt and pantyhose held him back, frustrating his efforts to get to that dark, wet world between her legs. He played around with his tongue, waiting to come up with a way to get the clothes off without shattering Linda's fragile mood. One wrong move and the moment could be lost.
Suddenly Tom heard the zipper at the side of Linda's skirt being pulled down. He glanced over in surprise, and saw her hand undoing the button at the top of the skirt.
Linda raised her buttocks and drew the skirt down over her legs. Tom eagerly followed her hands with his own, and pushed the pantyhose past her pelvis and down to her thighs.
Tom's mind raced feverishly as he saw the pussy lying open before him. It was crowned by a high, arching growth of satiny hair. The hair was full and smooth, and so lustrous it looked like it had been carefully cared for.
The sight heightened Tom's eagerness. He anxiously pushed at the pantyhose binding Linda's thighs. She drew her legs toward her so he could get them off. He yanked them down over her ankles and tossed them to the floor.
Linda held her legs in the air, and then slowly spread them wide apart. She was inviting him, begging him in fact, to dive down on her. But with that furry pussy laid open before him, Tom needed no encouragement at all.
He headed straight for her cunt. The lips were spread slightly apart, revealing the deep pink recesses of her vagina--the same shade of pink which colored her nipples. Pink and black, Tom thought as he dove for the slit peeking through the mound of dark hair--beautiful pink and black.
A spasm shook Linda's pelvis as Tom's wet tongue glided along the outer lips of her cunt. Tom felt her quake beneath him, and wrapped his arms around her firm ass to control her movements.
But Linda was not about to be controlled. She began to pump her pelvis wildly in response to Tom's licking, rocking it up and down in an effort to soothe the burning sensation in her pussy. Tom felt her hands glide over his head, bobbing it to and fro as though it were an instrument she was using to jerk herself off.
The sweet taste and aroma of Linda's muff drove Tom to a level of desire he'd never before experienced. His loins were heavy and aching, and he pressed his hard prick urgently against her side.
Suddenly Tom felt a soft, tingling sensation in his scrotum, and he lurched forward involuntarily. Linda's expert fingers were now delicately massaging his balls. Tom felt his gism rise up in his hardon, begging to be freed. But the only response he could make was to work even harder on Linda's cunt, to roam wildly with his wet lips and tongue over the orifice that was now oozing fluid proof of his wife's excitement.
Tom plunged his tongue deep into his wife's pussy, reveling in the slippery-soft wetness which enveloped it. Linda responded like an animal to the thrust, arching her pelvis sharply and uttering a guttural moan of passion.
The aching in Tom's own loins had grown unbearable. The tantalizing feel of Linda's deft fingers playing over his scrotum and flitting about his ass caused him to pump madly against her side. He needed the warmth of her body; he desperately needed something to put his dick into.
Almost immediately, he felt Linda's hand leave his balls and her arm wrap itself around his inner thigh. She seemed to be tugging his body toward her torso, as though she wanted him to climb on top of her. But for what? Was she actually going to play sixty-nine with him?
Weaving his tongue in swirling patterns deep inside Linda's hot pussy, Tom clumsily moved his pelvis over her body. Her hands had grasped his dick and balls now, and seemed to be guiding him. He felt her push down on his loins slightly, urging him toward her chest.
Tom hunched forward in response, and then felt his prick being pulled downward. He came to rest in Linda's cleavage, and the sweaty warmth there greeted him as a welcome haven for the bursting hardness of his prick.
Tom continued to work magic with his tongue, and Linda flung her pelvis ever more frantically in response. Tom himself began to pump now, pressing himself against the softness of her chest, luxuriating in the feel of it against his swollen cock.
Suddenly Tom felt the warm flesh beneath his loins begin to envelop his prick. Taken by surprise, he moved his lips and tongue to Linda's clitoris so as not to break the spell, and twisted his neck around. He saw that she had placed her hands alongside her pendulous breasts and was pressing them around his dick and balls, providing a hot, fleshy hollow for him to thrust in.
His excitement grew to the bursting point. Linda had never been so aroused, and Tom wondered what specific thing had turned her on. He had to isolate it so he could use it again, every night, even if it meant he could spend his evenings immersed in Linda's formidable muff. But analysis could wait. All Tom wanted now was to make Linda come--and to come himself, all over that heaving chest of hers.
Linda's clit had grown stiff and hot in Tom's mouth, like a little prick of her own, It felt longer and harder than he had ever known and he sucked on it eagerly, urging it to explode. If that little organ was half as agonized as his big cock, he knew how much Linda needed a climax.
"Oooohhhh--keep it up honey!" Linda suddenly shouted. "Keep sucking me. It feels so good. God, I. never felt so good in my life. Keep sucking!"
Tom redoubled his efforts, spurred on by his wife's urging. Her words were still another departure for her--she never spoke during their sex acts. She always remained wrapped in her own emotional cocoon, never letting him in. But tonight she was literally begging him to enter all of her, her mind as well as her body.
"Lick me, honey. Lick me!"
Linda's voice was now an other-worldly shriek; it sounded like she's been possessed. She pumped her pelvis frantically, her thighs wrapped tightly around his head, her hands massaging the breasts which encased his straining red tool, She was a bodyful of animal passion--wild, uncontrollable animal passion.
"Oh help meee!" Linda screamed, flinging her legs straight into the air, her tanned thigh muscles taut and bursting with the strain of imminent orgasm. Tom followed her, trying to control her with all his strength, but he could barely hang on. She was like a bucking bronco flinging herself all over the bed.
Tom clamped his teeth over the hot red stack above her cunt in a last-ditch effort to bring her over the peak.
"OOOAAAAAEEEOWWW!" Linda exploded into orgasm with her shrill scream ringing in Tom's ears.
Her cunt pressed itself into his mouth and teeth as though it sought to devour him, and her thighs broke into a sudden sweat. Her legs still pumped, but they seemed helpless and purposeless now, pained victims of a spasm too intense to bear.
Tom himself had been at the brink of orgasm throughout the wrestling match with this beautiful young girl, a female so sexually possessed she seemed like a stranger to him. He'd been pumping his prick against her chest until it was ready to burst.
"Cream on me, honey," Linda suddenly urged, her voice coming in gasps from her heaving lungs. "Cream all over me. Please!"
Excited to an unbelievable height by this pleading for his gism, Tom thrust himself deeply into the soft flesh surrounding his cock and pumped like a madman.
"You're going to do it! Linda responded excitedly. "You're going to come hot and milky all over me. Please do it, please give it to me, please!!"
Tom groaned, and shot his load in spasms. First, there was a big one.
"That's it!" Linda shouted.
Then, a smaller squirt issued from his aching cock.
"There's more! I feel more! Give me all you've got!"
Finally, Tom squeezed a third load of come from his prick and let it ooze all over Linda's chest. His head fell between her legs; he felt like he might pass out.
"That's beautiful!" Linda exclaimed as Tom summoned up the strength to roll off her. "Just beautiful. Look at all your come on me! There must be a pint!"
Tom glanced up and saw a large pool of semen nestled between Linda's tits. It looked like a high-country lake lying between two mountain peaks.
"You're right," he panted, smiling weakly. "Told you I needed this weekend."
"I guess you did," Linda giggled in agreement, her eyes fastened on the pool between her breasts, watching it as it started to slowly break and run toward her belly. "You needed it to lose some weight. You must have dropped two pounds right here alone," she said as she nodded toward her torso."
"Feels like it," Tom grunted as he rolled over on his side.
"We can't let this go to waste." Linda said matter-of-factly. "It's the very stuff of life, you know."
With that, she dropped her hands to the semen, which was now running in rivulets along the base of her long boobs. She first dabbed her fingers in it, and then immersed them.
"It's so warm and soothing," she said in a trance-like voice. "It's probably filled with good things like vitamins and minerals too. Do you know what's in it?"
"No, I don't know what's in it," Tom replied in an astonished tone. He couldn't believe what Linda was doing.
Linda rubbed his slippery semen all over her belly and torso. It glistened under the light over the bed.
"I'm sure this is good for my skin," she commented. "Something instinctive tells me that."
Tom was unable to make a reply.
"Something instinctive also tells me I may get some more of it!"
Linda playfully reached out and wrapped her fingers around Tom's erection, which waved in the air a few inches from her right tit. Tom didn't even know his prick was hard; he usually went soft after orgasm.
"How come you're still up?" Linda's tone was curious, but there was a strong hint of excitement in it too. "I don't know," Tom shrugged. "Guess you've really turned me on tonight."
"Good," said Linda emphatically, a contented smile resting on her face. "Want to get inside me? Looks like you could use it!' Feeling new energy begin to flow inside him, Tom brought himself up to a sitting position. Linda's legs were still spread wide open, and one look at the pink slit peeking through the furry mass of pubic hair was all he needed.
He raised himself to his knees. Linda was gently massaging his cock now, weaving intricate patterns around the stiff organ with her delicate fingers. As he shuffled backward to position himself to enter her, she sat up to work on his prick while he moved.
"I like this penis so much tonight," she said to him, her dark eyes glistening with passion. "It's such a beautiful thing. It's so exciting... so powerful... " Tom let her control him, let her use his cock to steer him like a pilot uses the stick on a small plane. She moved him around until he was centered between her legs, and then guided him slowly into place.
"Ahhhh!", he gasped as he felt her tight cunt grasp the head of his dick. "God, that feels good!"
"Stick more into me, honey," Linda said urgently. "Fill me up with that big thing of yours. Stuff me!"
But Linda wasn't waiting for Tom to do it; she was literally taking things into her own hands. She had hold of his prick at the base and was shoving it into her cunt, stuffing it until the shaft was up to its hilt. She had seven hot inches inside her, and it seemed that she hungered for even more.
Linda's fingers now pushed at the base of the cock so that it withdrew slowly from her cunt. She wanted to control the instrument of her pleasure, to have its movements match her own needs. And Tom was perfectly willing to let her work his will. He was supporting himself on his hands, and he could look down and see his long rod withdraw until the head was visible.
Slowly, Linda filled herself with meat again. Tom felt like he was fucking in slow motion, but he was going to let her play her own game. Ever since the moment he'd handed her the camera, the results of letting her take the lead had been spectacular.
"Your penis feels wonderful," Linda moaned. "I feel like I'm a beach, and you're a big wave that's slowly pounding on me." Her tone was other-worldly, almost as if she was talking to herself.
"The wave comes in," she continued, "and it overwhelms you, and then slowly retreats. But it's coming back in again, you know it is. And so you wait for it."
Linda's verbal reverie turned Tom on. He'd been following her lead, moving very slowly, feeling like he could last forever inside her cunt. But he felt Linda's elated remarks right down to his very prick, and his gism began to well up inside him.
"I can't take this much longer," he grunted to his wife. He was propped up on his hands; holding the high-point of a push-up; the arms were beginning to quake, and his loins were demanding release.
"Come then, honey," Linda responded solemnly, looking up into his eyes. "Come. I'll help you."
Linda's fingers wrapped even more tightly around the base of Tom's hardon, and she began to shove it in and out of her pussy much more rapidly. The warmth of the slick sleeve enveloping his organ was quick and constant, and Tom felt himself on the brink of orgasm.
"I want you to come on me, honey," Linda said urgently.
"On you?" Tom grunted as he slapped his cock frantically into her.
"Yes. Not in me. On me. I want to capture the moment."
Tom felt Linda's hands leave his cock, and he immediately stepped up the speed of his strokes. The feeling in his dick was so intense that he only half noticed Linda reached alongside her and pick up the Polaroid.
"Let me know when you're going to come," she whispered as she raised her head. Her face was now on a higher level than her tits, and she could see over them as she raised the camera to eye level.
"I'll move myself faster for you," Linda said hoarsely. "That should make you come quickly. But take your thing out and come on my belly!"
The tight cunt clasped around Tom's hardon began to move in rapid little circles, slipping around him like a hungry vacuum cleaner. Within seconds he felt the push for orgasm rise in his balls, and he knew 'he had to shoot his load. He wanted it to go into the warmth of her pussy, he wanted to plunge deeply into Linda and pop in the innermost recesses of her vagina, he wanted to wither and relax there after he came. But he wanted to please her even more.
"I'm ready, honey. Shoot it on me!" Linda urged, camera ready.
Making a Herculean effort of will, Tom withdrew his agonized prick on the outstroke and let it waver above her hairy pelvis.
He grunted--and a mighty stream of semen jetted from his penis up to her belly button.
"Beautiful!" Linda called as the shutter clicked.
The hole at the end of Tom's dick opened again, and a second stream shot out, this one lacing a pattern over her lower belly like whipped cream from an aerosol can.
The shutter clicked again.
Tom's shoulders and arms ached. He simply wasn't able to muster the strength for a third shot. His remaining sperm just dribbled out of his cock onto her flowing mound of pubic hair.
"That's great! Keep it coming, honey!"
The shutter clicked again, and Tom collapsed exhausted on the bed.
CHAPTER TWO
The silent fury between them was thick enough to slice as they strode quickly up the walkway. The sun was shining and the sweet smell of early spring morning was in the air--but none of nature's lightheartedness had rubbed off on Tom and Linda Hansen.
Tom was fuming inside. After he'd collapsed on the bed last night, the next thing he knew Linda was gruffly shaking his shoulder.
He'd opened his groggy eyes, and was amazed to find her standing alongside him fully dressed.
"What's going on?" he mumbled, running his hands over his leaden face.
"Time to go," she replied.
"Go? What the hell are you talking about?"
"It's seven o'clock in the morning. You slept straight through the night."
"Bullshit," he protested, glancing anxiously over at the clock. But it only confirmed Linda's story, as did the halo of bright daylight surrounding the drapes at the far end of the room.
"So, it's seven o'clock. So what?"
Tom felt panic crawl inside him. He didn't want to get out of bed, and he didn't want to go home. All he wanted to do was fuck again.
"So, we have to go home, that's what," Linda replied. "Come on--get up!" She playfully tugged at his arm.
"I already am up," Tom replied with a grin.
He threw the covers aside, and revealed a stiff rod pointing skyward; he must have had it all night. She'd been so turned on by his stiff prick last night that he was sure it would have the same effect now.
"Tom, we don't have time for that," Linda said brusquely. "We have to get home."
"What about this?" Tom said angrily, pointing to his tremendous hardon. "You sure wanted to take care of it last night. Well, I want it taken care of this morning!"
"You'll just have to wait, Tom. Life does have its priorities, you know. Don't you want to see the baby?"
Hell no, Tom thought. I want to see myself get laid and blown, that's what I want to see.
"Priorities my ass," he said bitterly as he headed for the suitcase.
They drove home in stony silence. Tom was baffled and outraged by her abrupt change in behavior, and by her lack of concern with his very real sexual needs.
Fuck it, he thought. Fuck her, fuck her parents, fuck the agency, fuck everything. What Linda wanted was a cock that was socially acceptable, one that got hard only at "appropriate" times. But it sure as hell wasn't his.
And what he wanted was a woman who accepted a man and his prick for what they were, a truly sensual woman who would be pleased and happy to service his needs wherever and whenever they arose.
Tom was jarred back to reality by Linda's loud rapping on their door.
"Hello, Melody," she said curtly when the babysitter answered. Linda brushed past her and headed straight for their daughter, who was making gurgling noises in the kitchen.
"Everything go okay Melody?" Tom said to the babysitter, trying to sound pleasant to make up for his wife.
"Oh yes. Everything was fine." Melody said quickly, flashing a smile but sensing the heavy animosity between her employers.
"Great. I'm sure you want to get home to see your folks, so we may as well get going." He handed her a check, and opened the door.
"Good-bye Mrs. Hansen!" Melody called pleasantly as she picked up her overnight bag and slipped the check inside. But there was no reply.
Tom's face was pasted with a pleasant grin as the sitter passed through the doorway--but inside he was furious at Linda's behavior. Fuck her, he thought again; fuck her altogether.
"Wow, what a great day!" Melody said effusively as they went down the long, winding walk toward the circular driveway.
"Sure is, isn't it?" Tom replied gamely. He wanted to break social convention and say it was a great day outside but was a lousy day inside-but there seemed little point to doing that with some teenager, especially one he didn't even know.
Tom watched Melody Sullivan walk jauntily in front of him, and he suddenly forgot his wife and their troubles. He stared at Melody's ass as it swayed through the tiny gray mini-skirt that covered it, and noticed for the first time how full and round it was. Tom hadn't paid the slightest attention to her existence before--but the undulating movement of that young ass made him size her up for the first time.
Long, flowing red hair was draped neatly over Melody's shoulders. It framed a face that was downright beautiful: sparkling green eyes, a pert nose, and a mouth that was red and colorful without lipstick. In fact, Melody seemed to be wearing no make-up at all: her lashes were naturally long, and her cheeks were smooth and bright with the bloom of youth. Melody Sullivan didn't need a thing to supplement what nature gave her.
And as they climbed into Tom's sports car, he noticed that nature had given her a lot more than a pretty face. Her tiny skirt rode up to the tops of her thighs as she fastened her seat belt, revealing them to be firm and shapely. They were milk white the soft, inviting texture possessed by redheads alone.
Tom's gaze rose higher on her young body. Melody's light coat had been left open, and he could see the enormous rounded bulges pressing against her sweater, begging to be freed. Christ, I'm being ridiculous, Tom thought as he started the engine and slammed the transmission into low gear. The kid can't be over sixteen years old or something.
"Mr. Hansen?" Melody asked tentatively as Tom pulled into the street, squealing rubber.
"Tom, please," he replied flippantly.
"Okay," she returned slowly. "Tom it is."
He looked over, and realized that Melody was blushing. He hadn't meant a damn thing by what he said; he was just trying to make her comfortable. He'd better be careful; his lascivious thoughts might be coming through in his tone of voice.
"Can you do me a little favor?" she asked.
"Depends. What is it?" He became more gruff, more business-like.
"Well, it's such a beautiful morning I really don't want to go home. Knowing that place, nobody's even out of bed anyway. Would you mind dropping me at McMartry Park? I know it's out of your way, but it's so pretty. I'd like to spend the morning there and get some thinking done."
Tom again looked over at Melody. She gave him a shy but wide smile, one that revealed a sparkling row of perfectly formed teeth. At that instant, her striking appearance rang a bell with him.
Melody Hansen was exactly like the Queens in Tom's high school, the girls who were too regal and staggeringly beautiful for an ordinary guy like Tom Hansen to risk speaking to. Rejection was an absolute certainty: unless you were an All-State athlete or a doctor's son handsome enough to be a model, you didn't have a chance. Girls like Melody Sullivan were only a dream; they had no relationship to day-to-day reality.
"Sure, Melody," Tom said pleasantly. "I'll be glad to run you over to the park. I don't have a thing to do this morning anyway. But you'll have to answer one question for me first."
"What's that?"
Tom laughed. "What's somebody your age got to think about seriously? You should be out having fun!"
"Was life one big ball when you were a teenager, Tom?"
He reflected for a moment, and realized what she was getting at. Brains go with the beauty, he thought.
"No," he confessed. "No, it wasn't. There were a lot of problems."
"See?" Melody laughed. "I guess it's easy to forget."
"Well, it's not so much that," Tom replied, surprised at how elated the conversation was making him feel inside. "It's just that as you get older, the problems. you had as a teenager don't seem like they were very big ones. Adulthood gives you more perspective on what problems are serious and what aren't."
"Are you saying that things just get worse as you get older?"
Tom realized with a start that he was thinking--and saying--exactly that.
"Yes, I guess I am," he replied seriously.
"Oh God!" Melody said with a laugh as she flung her arms into the air. "That's all I need to hear!"
Melody let her arm brush across Tom's shoulders as she dropped it across the top of his seat. Tom felt like he'd been clubbed. He'd grown so aware of Melody's presence that she couldn't blink without his noticing it. She'd tried to do that subtly, Tom thought, his mind racing; she tried to make it seem natural, maybe even like an accident, but it hadn't worked.
On the other hand, it could very well have been an accident...
"Can you do me one other favor, Tom?" Melody suddenly seemed nervous.
"Depends," he said again, but lightly this time. "What is it?"
"Can you stop at a liquor store and get me a six-pack?"
"At this hour?" What he really meant was, "At your age?" But he didn't want to say that, didn't want to further emphasize the chronological gap between them. Melody probably thought he was ancient anyway. He wondered just how old she was...
Melody laughed and crossed her legs, letting her mini-skirt ride damn near to her crotch.
"What's wrong with this hour? On an empty stomach, it only takes a can or two to get you high. And I think better when I'm high."
Tom vacillated. All the social strictures against agreeing to Melody's simple request came down to a bottom line--serious trouble with the law for buying booze for a minor. But fuck it, he decided. It was a beautiful spring day, he sure as hell didn't want to go home--and he was getting more turned on by this voluptuous teenager every second.
The car's wheels squealed as Tom suddenly turned right, lured by a flashing neon sign which bellowed "Liquor." Tom hoped out of the car, went inside, and nervously purchased three six-packs. Might as well see if I can make it a party, he thought.
As he walked back to the car, Melody shouted with surprise through her open window.
"Hey--I can't drink all that!"
'Thought I'd give you some help," he said as he clambered back into the car with the bulky bag. Melody reached for it and immediately freed a can, smiling at him. "I've got my share of problems too, you know," Tom said.
Tom wheeled the car back onto the road in silence. He had given her the opening; he'd handed her the chance to invite him along. But there had been no response.
"That might be a good idea," Melody finally replied. "Let's have a good time this morning--maybe we can help each other out."
Tom's heart raced. What exactly did she mean by that remark? He took the open can she offered him and put it to his lips. The tart fluid stung its way down his throat, and landed in his empty stomach in one big plop.
They made small talk as they drove toward the park, with Tom stealing glances at the young girl each time they traded the beer can. No, he finally decided, she didn't mean a thing. She was just too sweet and innocent-looking to have anything sexual in mind. Tom was almost relieved. A little high, a little conversation with a beautiful girl on a warm spring morning was all he needed anyway. It would take his mind off things.
They finally came to the main entrance to McMartry Park and Tom drove in slowly, unsure of where to go. He suddenly realized he might very well be seen and recognized by someone.
"I know a nice private spot on the other side where we can park," Melody said, reading his thoughts. "No one will bother us there. I don't think anyone else even knows about it."
Following her directions, Tom drove the length of the paved road and then cut across the grass at the far end of the park. They came to a thatch of evergreens which grew at the base of a steep hill.
"Now what?" Tom asked. "Creep forward, right where I'm pointing. We can slip under the branches, and there's a little clearing behind the trees on the hill. We can park there."
"You're joking," Tom chuckled. But without hesitating a moment, he drove straight into the trees. The branches scraped the top of the car as it went through, and Tom laughed all the way. In a few seconds, they emerged on the other side, and Tom saw the clearing. He turned the car around and backed up the hill.
"See?" Melody cried triumphantly as Tom surveyed his surroundings. "It's beautiful, and it's private. Smell the pine?"
"Sure do," Tom said as he took a deep breath. "The whole thing is great. Makes you feel alive again. I can't imagine why I don't do this more often." He cracked open a third can of beer and leaned back against his seat.
"You should. When you get back to nature, even if it's only for a few hours, you feel like you're part of some great, grand scheme of things. You feel better about yourself, more relaxed. That's the whole idea of full existence, I think--to feel natural and relaxed about everything."
"You're right," Tom agreed. "You're absolutely right. But most of us spend all our time thinking about money and business and crap like that. It's crazy!"
"Tom, can I take your cock out?"
He jolted bolt upright and flashed an incredulous look at the beautiful teenager.
"Well, we want to be relaxed and natural, right?" Melody smiled sweetly. "What's more natural than our bodies? We're always covering them up, and denying the natural feelings we have. That leaves us all charged up inside. It's no good," she said earnestly as she moved across the seat to be closer to him.
"I can't argue with that," Tom said tentatively as Melody's hand fell to his stomach and began to roam over it. "But, we don't even know each other or anything. And besides," he stammered, "how old are you anyway?"
Melody's hand went to his crotch and massaged it gently. She moved her other hand to his fly and matter-of-factly zipped it open. She looked him straight in the eye.
"Eighteen," she replied.
Melody reached into Tom's pants and pulled out his prick. It was only half-hard; her move had surprised him so much that he hadn't had time to get excited.
Melody gently stroked the spongy organ. "Now doesn't that feel better?" she asked softly.
"Sure does," Tom grinned foolishly. He was at a loss for words.
"You have a very nice cock," Melody said in her matter-of-fact manner. She picked it up in her right hand and studied it. "It's very large."
Tom's manhood hardened under Melody's gaze. This was wild, he thought, absolutely wild. He was sitting in a public park on a spring morning with a teenage girl stroking his dick.
"You... say it's very large," Tom said hesitantly. "I take it this isn't the first one you've seen."
"Of course not," Melody laughed. "I mean, I am eighteen years old, you know."
"But I want you to know," she said in a suddenly serious tone, "that I am a virgin. And I'm very proud of it."
"You are a virgin," Tom said dumbly. He couldn't reconcile her openness with that status.
"Yes. I'm saving myself for the right man. But that certainly doesn't mean I have to torture my dates. I understand that males have needs, and I think it's downright cruel not to satisfy them."
My wife should hear that, Tom thought bitterly. And he was suddenly jolted: just an hour ago he'd been mired in his dissatisfaction with Linda, and had been fantasizing about a female who'd cater to his sexual urges. Now, he had one at hand.
"But what about you, Melody?" Tom teased. He placed his hand on her firm neck and ran his fingers over it. "What about your needs? How do you satisfy them?"
"Oh, after a date I just go home and jerk off. I'm not going to let boys do anything at all for me. They get so excited they'd just ram a finger right up me--and that's the end of my cherry!"
Tom watched fascinated as Melody's youthful white hand began to tug on his dick with steady up-and-down motion.
"I think we should take care of this for you now," she said, nodding down toward his erection. "Then we can concentrate on talking. I'd really like to get your opinion on a few things."
"It would be a little difficult to concentrate on anything except my cock right now," Tom joked.
Melody slowly bent down and placed her smiling lips on the bulbous head of Tom's red shaft. She puckered her mouth and gently lapped up the love juice oozing from Tom's hole. He squirmed with delight at the soft wetness of her subtle kiss on his prick.
"Would you like me to jerk you off or suck you off?" Melody asked cheerily as she sat up.
Again floored by her openness, Tom was at a loss for a quick reply. He wanted desperately for Melody to blow him, but was too embarrassed to say so.
"Which would you prefer?" he said, his voice shaking with excitement.
"I like to watch men shoot their load, but I know how much better it feels for you to be sucked off. Your wife probably doesn't perform fellatio on you, does she?"
"No," Tom replied honestly.
"Well, I'll be glad to suck you off then," Melody replied agreeably. "I'm sure you'd like that best."
Melody brushed her lustrous red hair to the side and bent down to cover the head of Tom's big cock with her soft lips. She nibbled at the pulpy head, letting the saliva flow from her mouth to bathe it in warm wetness.
Overwhelmed by the sensations at the end of his prick, Tom leaned back and shut his eyes. He'd forgotten how incredibly exciting the feel of a nibbling mouth was, and he savored the moment.
Melody's mouth opened wider, and she slowly took in the hard shaft. She was halfway down when she tantalizingly drew her head back up, letting her lips pucker and flow behind her. She withdrew and looked up at him.
"Like that?" she asked pleasantly.
"Phenomenal. You're just phenomenal," he moaned.
"You haven't felt my tongue get going yet!" Melody laughed, happy with his compliment. "That will drive you wild."
"By the way, just shoot your load in my mouth whenever you're ready. I don't want you to feel embarrassed about it or anything. I know it's better when you can come inside a mouth."
Damn right it's better, he thought as the smiling young girl returned her mouth to her stiff prey. I only have to keep my mouth shut so the park police don't come running, and all you have to do is keep your mouth open so I can come into it. It's a simple proposition. I don't know why the fuck my wife has to make things so complicated.
Melody's lips glided slowly up and down Tom's rigid meat, and he sunk even further back in his seat so that he could move his cock in rhythm with her mouth. He pumped his dick back and forth into her innocent face, and Melody stayed with him all the way.
Melody opened' her mouth even wider, in fact, and took in nearly three-quarters of the big cock each time he pumped his pelvis. His action seemed to increase her eagerness to serve him, seemed to make her want to swallow as much of his prick as she possibly could.
Her tongue suddenly lashed out over the rim of his engorged dong on the upstroke, and he felt the thrill all the way into his bowels. This young, sweet mouth was an experienced one--and a hungry one.
Melody's thick tongue worked rapidly now, sliding up and down his cock like a slippery wet animal with a life of its own. His hands fell on her hair, and he tried to guide her movements.
She willingly lapped at his stiff prick as he directed, and the sweetness and warmth of her tongue and mouth sent him into another universe. It was a world centered entirely on his burning prick and the mouth which sought to soothe it.
"I'm going to come soon," he panted, disbelieving how quickly she had brought him to the brink of orgasm.
Melody hummed her encouragement over the head of his cock, and the sound waves raced through his rod. She began to move her head faster now, urging him to use her mouth as a sanctuary for his semen. He could sense how warm and friendly she felt toward him, and that she genuinely wanted him to fill her throat with hot come. He shuddered, and flung his pelvis forward.
His entire cock disappeared into her mouth, and he could feel its head press against the silky base of the throat.
"Ohhh... my God!" he squealed as his semen burst from his throbbing prick. It jetted against the walls of her throat and dribbled down inside her.
Melody eagerly continued to munch on him, keeping his entire seven inches inside her jaws. She wouldn't let him go. She flicked her tongue wildly over his agonized prick, urging it to produce more come for her.
Tom shot a second wad into her, and Melody's mouth closed around it, lapping it up eagerly. Her tongue swirled over his meat to catch any gism that hadn't gone down her throat.
"Baby, ohhhh baby!" Tom groaned incoherently as his pelvis jerked.
His cock was shrinking, but this hungry teenager wouldn't let it recede from her mouth. She gobbled hungrily at the helpless organ, sucking up every drop of sperm she could.
"Enough, enough!" he laughed loudly, grasping her shoulders and trying to hold her still. Only when she felt the firm pressure of his hands did Melody finally let the slippery prick slide from her wet mouth.
"Did like that?" she asked with all the innocence of youth, her semen-stained lips hovering scant inches from his shriveling hunk of meat.
"I loved it," he smiled, stroking her gleaming red hair affectionately.
"I'm glad. I loved it too."
Melody flicked out her tongue once more and lapped up a few lonesome droplets of semen that had dribbled from Tom's cock after it left her mouth. He shivered his response, and then watched happily while she peppered his shrunken red prick with fond kisses.
"There. You should be more relaxed now," she said proudly as she finally sat up.
"That's the understatement of the year," Tom grunted contentedly.
"Now, if your cock cooperates, we can concentrate on enjoying this beautiful morning." Melody reached for another can of beer and popped it open.
"But what about you?" Tom was teasing, rubbing her cheek.
Melody looked at him coyly, and then dropped her eyes to the seat while she sipped her beer.
"I have to admit I am a little... excited," she finally replied. "I mean, if a mouthful of your huge cock didn't turn me on, there'd have to be something wrong with me, wouldn't there?"
"Well, you don't want to wait till later to masturbate, do you? You'll be itching for hours, and you won't be able to enjoy the morning. Why don't you do it here?"
"You won't... " Melody's look was solemn.
"Get excited and ram a finger right up you?" he laughed. "No, I don't think so. After what you just did for me, I owe you better treatment than that. Besides, I'm not one of your overheated teenage friends anyway."
"Okay," Melody replied cheerfully. She immediately placed her fingers under the mini-skirt and stripped her panties off.
"I've never jerked off in front of anybody before," she said as she dropped the panties to the floor. "Don't you think it's kind of weird?"
"Why? We should be natural and open, right? Jerking off is something natural, isn't it?"
Melody shrugged, and then grinned. He had her right by her own words.
"Right," she answered emphatically. She leaned back on the seat, pushed her pelvis forward, and hiked her skirt up to her waist.
A bright red bush peeked between Melody's creamy thighs. The morning sunlight played directly on it, making it glisten in varying shades of orange, blonde and red.
Melody spread her legs and laid her right hand between them, Then her fingers moved up slowly and came to rest on the cleft that housed her clitoris.
"Anyway," Tom said glibly as he watched her begin to massage her clit, "what was it you had to do such deep thinking about this morning?"
"Oh, a whole bunch of things. Life in general. My life in particular."
"What about your life?" Tom watched her hand moving faster now, tugging at her hard little clit.
"Well, in a year I'll be out of high school, and I have to decide what to do with myself."
Her fingers were flying over her clit now, and her face turned red.
"Have you been thinking about anything specific?"
"Oh, yes, I have," she replied slowly, her voice coming in little pants. "But it's silly."
"What is it?"
"I'd rather not say."
"Why? Come on, tell me."
"Oh... you'll just laugh."
"No, no I won't. I promise."
"I want to be a model," she blurted. Her legs spread wider apart to accommodate the growing excitement between them.
"That's not so silly. I think you'd be a great model. You've got beauty, poise, maturity... "
"Do you really think I could make it?" she asked anxiously.
"You sure could."
Melody's lush white pelvis began to rock now, and her fingers strummed faster than ever on her clit. Tom felt his limp manhood starting to stiffen again, and instead of keeping his thoughts to himself he decided to be "natural and open."
"Melody, watching you like this really turns me on. When you're finished, will you suck me off again?"
"Sure," Melody replied agreeably, between pants. "Guess you haven't been blown for quite awhile, huh?" Her movements grew more frantic while she waited for his reply--but he chose to remain silent this time.
"Tom?" she asked huskily, her voice hoarse and dry with passion.
"Yes?" he replied, stroking her scarlet hair with one hand and his cock with the other.
"You use lots of models at your ad agency, don't you?"
CHAPTER THREE
Her hands massaged her inner thighs.
Inevitably, they moved toward her stiff red clit.
She gently touched its tip, and jumped. The thrill it sent through her was like a jolt of electricity.
She couldn't believe she was doing this. She was sitting naked in the kitchen chair, and was about to jerk off.
Linda Hansen hadn't masturbated in the two years she'd been married to Tom. Before that, she'd only done it a few times. She didn't like it because it made her feel like an animal.
But looking at these photographs of this stiff, stiff cock, she thought, I don't mind feeling like an animal. I actually like it.
It had been a strange Monday, Linda reflected, and it had followed a strange weekend during which she and her husband barely spoke. He seemed unconcerned and preoccupied--and so was she.
Saturday morning, while Linda was unpacking, the Polaroid photos of Tom had tumbled out of the suitcase. One look at the shots of his hard prick in various poses, including come shots, and she could feel her clit stiffen.
She tried to deny the emotions she felt, but they'd worked on her all weekend. That, and the photos of that beautiful cock, were all she could think about.
And they spawned an idea which could revolutionize Linda Hansen's life.
Monday morning, as soon as Tom left for work, she took the first step in turning that idea into reality. She'd gone to the drugstore and purchased, along with a number of items she didn't really need but wanted for camouflage, a copy of Playgirl and a copy of Viva. She'd felt like hell at the checkout counter--she didn't have the nerve to look the clerk in the eye--but there was no other way to get the job done.
On the drive back from the drugstore the baby had fallen asleep, and Linda thankfully deposited her in the crib when they reached home. She headed for the liquor cabinet, poured a hefty portion of Scotch into a tumbler, and slugged it down.
By the time Linda sat down at the kitchen table with the magazines and Polaroids spread before her, the Scotch was coursing through her veins and bringing a giddy feeling with it. Linda was anxious and excited as she opened the first magazine. What she saw caused her to sit up with a start.
A tall, handsome young man stood on a beach holding a volleyball. He looked just like the suave men seen in aftershave ads; the only difference was that he was completely nude.
His penis was enormous, dangling between his legs like a hunk of salami hanging from the delicatessen rack. Linda shook her head and poured herself another shot of Scotch.
She had never seen such a large cock. In fact, she reflected, she'd never seen any cock other than her husband's--and the sheer bulk of this man's meat startled her. She flipped the pages and found various poses, but whatever the setting one thing remained the same: all visual emphasis lay with that huge cock dangling like a coiled snake between the young man's legs.
As she scanned the rest of the magazine, Linda found similar oversized pricks throughout it. The men attached to them were all posed in stereotyped model settings--beaches, boats, bedrooms--and they all seemed potentially powerful bed partners.
But that's just the point, Linda thought excitedly: their sexual abilities were only potential ones. Their cocks were immense, but they were limp and helpless. The men didn't exhibit the essential proof of their manhood. Soft cocks just didn't turn her on, Linda thought. And, if her theory was correct, they really didn't do a thing for other women either.
Linda picked up the other magazine and quickly flipped through it. She found the same phenomenon in its layouts, incredibly well-hung men who were only would-be studs. They hadn't proved a thing. They hadn't shown they could get those beautiful cocks up.
Reaching again for the Scotch, Linda reflected on the comments her friends had made about the magazines. Those comments and analysis of her own reaction to the sight of Tom's hard prick, had given birth to her theory.
The genitals in the magazines had inspired giggling remarks from her friends. Even Jennifer Hodgkins, her best friend since elementary school and known as a prudish person, had made eye-rolling references to the chunky pricks she'd seen in the magazines. To top off the success story, sales of the women's publications were zooming.
But Linda had sensed a wistful note in her friends' remarks. It seemed they might be interested in seeing something more but were too embarrassed to admit it. If the readership was dissatisfied though, why were the books selling so well?
They had allowed women to gaze at all the meaty cocks they wanted to, and that was an historical first. Women had finally been able to overthrow the shackles of Puritan modesty, and it was this novelty that accounted for sales.
Then Linda thought of the pictures of Tom's hard, alive cock. It was red and bursting, yearning to explode inside a woman. The excitement that sight created in her was no novelty. It was something basically lustful, something that a woman could never tire of.
Picking up the Polaroids, Linda examined them one by one: the side view of the hardon jutting from Tom's lean body, the angry prick hovering over her pubic thatch, the straining prick pouring its generous quantity of semen all over her belly. Linda felt her face flush, and she was amazed again at her reaction to these photos.
Her clitoris began to stiffen, and she could feel fluid seeping down her cunt. Linda's hand automatically slipped inside her skirt and panties and her middle finger began to slide up and down her slit.
Damn, nothing has ever turned me on like this, she thought. She laid the Polaroids on top of one of the photo layouts in the magazine, and studied the effect.
Yes, this would look very good inside a slick publication, she concluded as her finger slipped up her cunt. She moved the Polaroids around over the mid-sections of the models, imagining that the stiff dick belonged to them. Yes, it looks good, she thought--very good.
Linda Hansen dreamed of the ideal enterprise; one that could make bundles of money and be real fun as well. Fun hell, she suddenly realized--it would be an incredible turn-on!
She could recruit well-hung male models, help them get their big cocks up, and then shoot the photos herself. Her father's agency had all the necessary photographic equipment, and she had the experience. And her father had the money and contacts necessary to help produce a successful publication.
There should be women in the layouts, Linda mused as she slipped her skirt off and let it fall to the floor. Young girls would be on their knees, caressing and admiring the big pricks. They would smile with delight at the big hunks of meat stretching before their eyes and lips.
The magazine would be a knock-out seller, Linda decided. It would appeal to women, bisexuals, and probably homos too. It would be a no-nonsense breakthrough in mass publications, one that would someday be made by one of the established publishing houses anyway. Whoever was there first would reap the publicity and financial harvest for years--and there was no reason Linda Hansen couldn't be the one.
Linda slipped her fingers inside her pantyhose and pulled them down her long, shapely legs.
She then stripped her panties off and leaned back against the kitchen chair with her legs spread wide before her.
There was a foot-long candle resting in its holder on the table before her. Her mind a swirl of emotions, Linda reached for it.
She brought the candle to her pussy, eased it over her stiff clit, and shuddered with the feeling of ecstasy it gave her.
God, this is exciting, Linda thought. She returned her gaze to the Polaroids, and she could feel her cunt juices flow immediately in response.
I am a typical American woman, Linda told herself as she lifted her legs off the floor and tightened her thigh muscles in response to the intense sensations the phallic instrument sent through her. I have been sexually repressed, but all I needed was the right turn-on. And the right turn-on is a picture of a stiff prick--in fact, as many pictures of stiff pricks as I can see.
I can imagine those hard cocks poised above me, anxious to shove themselves into my wet box. I can imagine them stuffing me to the hilt, making me explode with excitement.
I can imagine playing with those cocks after they've shot their loads, allowing them to flop lifelessly in my hands until I coaxed them back into sturdy condition.
I can imagine examining those pricks like a female doctor, imprinting their every line and vein into my memory forever.
I can even imagine... kissing them.
The kitchen chair jerked as Linda burst into an intense orgasm, her legs thrown high into the air and her gaping cunt suddenly filled to the hilt with the twelve-inch instrument.
CHAPTER FOUR
Melody's huge tits bounced up and down through her sweater as she rounded the corner. Tom felt his cock stiffen in an instant.
He never did get to see those beautiful boobs in the car Saturday--but he was going to be damn sure to get a good look at them tonight. And once he got a look, he was going to play with them, suck on them, and drive her teenaged ass wild with delight.
Melody stopped abruptly at the end of the hallway. She turned to no one, and whispered excitedly. Tom was confused; there shouldn't be anyone at the agency this late on a Monday night. He sure as hell didn't want anyone else there, because he'd never be able to explain what he was doing with a precocious eighteen-year-old on the photography set.
In a moment Tom saw a pert, young blond round the corner. He'd never seen her before.
"Hi Tom!" Melody called gaily. He nearly panicked as the sound of her voice echoed down the empty corridor. He put his finger to his lips to shush her and rushed toward the twosome.
"What's the matter?" Melody whispered. "I thought you said there'd be no one here."
"As far as I know there isn't," he replied. "But I want to make damn sure. I'm going to look around again and then set the burglar alarm. Who's this?" he asked, nodding at the blonde.
"This is my friend Cynthia," Melody replied proudly. "Cynthia, meet Tom Hansen."
The young girl smiled at him brightly, revealing an unusually wide mouth and a set of perfectly formed teeth. She seemed shy--but she was beautiful.
"Isn't she pretty?" Melody asked expectantly.
"Yes, she is," Tom agreed. "But what's she doing here?"
"Oh, we're best friends. We share everything, I told her about tonight and we had an idea."
Shit, Tom silently said to himself. If the beautiful Melody Sullivan was a blabbermouth, he might never get into her pants. In fact, he might never even see her again. Young piece of ass or not, he couldn't afford. somebody who was going to spread the word about them all over town.
"Don't worry Tom," Melody scolded. "Nobody else knows a thing, And you haven't even heard our idea yet."
"What idea."
"Nudes."
"Nudes?"
"Yeah, nudes. You know what nude means, don't you?" Her youthful voice was sarcastic. "We thought that was the best way to get noticed fast. You can take some photos of each of us separately, and then photos of us together."
"Together?" Tom was dumbfounded.
"Yeah, together. Naked, and together. Haven't you noticed what all those men's magazines are doing? They're putting a pair of girls in one layout, holding each other and all that stuff. It's the thing to do now."
"I better check around and set the alarm."
Tom couldn't confront the subject. He just strode away quickly, his mind racing. Teenagers today are absolutely amazing, he thought. Today's girls just calmly announced they wanted to be naked models in a Lesbian scene. But the question was--should he take the chance?
He turned down a corridor and checked the empty offices. He called out several times and his echo was the only reply. He pulled on the front door; it was locked. Then he headed for the rear one he'd left open for Melody.
If nude photos are what they want, then nude photos are what they'll get, Tom decided. As he contemplated the possibilities he felt his cock rise beneath his pants.
He wondered if his prick was making the decision rather than his mind.
Tom locked the rear entrance and set the burglar alarm mechanism. Then he walked rapidly down the hallway back to the girls.
"Everything okay?" Melody whispered loudly as he rounded the corner.
"You can talk normally now," he replied. "And we can get going on our session."
"Great!" she giggled, fondly grasping his arm. Her eyes dropped to his crotch. "But what's that?"
"What's what?"
"That bulge in your pants," she said, pointing at his fly.
"What do you think it is?" Tom countered hoarsely.
"I didn't think photographers walked around with hardons," Cynthia smiled. "I thought they were supposed to be like doctors. I didn't think models turned them on!"
That cute kid doesn't say much, Tom thought, but when she does she gets right down to it.
"We don't do much nude photography around here," Tom joked. "As an amateur I'm allowed to have an erection."
"As amateurs we can take care of your erection then," Melody laughed. "We can't get any good photos if you're preoccupied.
"Tom has a nice big cock, Cynthia. Wait till you see it. Where to, leader?"
"To the sets," Tom replied. He took Cynthia's slim arm and walked jauntily down the hall with a girl on either side of him. He seemed completely confident, but inside he was still confused.
His sexual prospects had changed so dramatically in 48 hours that he had severe difficulty accepting them. Only Saturday morning he'd been frustrated and miserable; on Monday night, he was in for all the sex he could handle.
They reached the large double doors leading to the photography sets and Tom opened them grandly, like a king admitting his subjects to his castle.
"Oh, wow!" Melody exclaimed as she entered the huge area. "This is the big time!"
The young girls surveyed the sets with awe. There were backgrounds for every conceivable kind of ad. They saw mountain backdrops for cigarette layouts, bathrooms for soap products, bedrooms for nighttime backache remedies, kitchens for cleaning products, fireplaces for "Homey" scenes. The sets were constructed on five levels of lofts built into the walls.
"Look over there!" Cynthia said excitedly, pointing to a far corner of the immense area.
"That's our full-time babbling brook," Tom announced proudly. "For menthol cigarettes, among other things."
"Wow," Melody whispered. "It's even better than I imagined. We've got half the damn world to pick from."
"Here's a set we can use right now," Cynthia said.
She was pointing at a huge four-poster bed immediately to their right, and Tom was too surprised to comment. The quiet youngster had struck again.
"Right, Cynthia. Let's get that big dick out and take care of it. Come on," she laughed as she pushed Tom towards the bed, "Let's get going!"
The nubile girls sat him down on the edge of the bed. Melody wrapped her arms around his neck and slowly sunk with him into the soft mattress.
"Oooo--we are going to be very nice to our big, handsome cameraman," Melody said in a sing-song brand of baby-talk. She blew her hot breath into his ear and then flicked her tongue along his neck.
Tom felt Cynthia's hand drop on his thigh and rub it gently.
"Listen, can I take this man's thing out now?" she asked in baby-talk, joining Melody in her fun. "If I am not home by ten o'clock I am going to get killed!"
"Go ahead, little girl," Melody baby-talked as she covered Tom's neck with wet, sucking kisses. "Tell me what you think of the strange thing this big man has between his legs."
Cynthia's soft white fingers reached for Tom's zipper and pulled it down. He hadn't said a word, hadn't made a suggestion in the last five minutes. I'm just a sex object, he thought contently. I just lie back and let the girls do all the work.
Tom felt Cynthia's hand slide into his shorts and search for his tool. Warm fingers slid around the hard organ.
"Let's take a look at this thing and see if it's as good as you said," Cynthia baby-talked. She tugged at Tom's hardon until it sprang free from his pants.
"Oh, it is huge!" she said. Her hands fell to his meat and she smiled as she spoke. "And it is stiff as a board!"
"Little Melody wants to see you shoot your load this time, Tommy-boy," Melody baby-talked. "She will give you a blow job later if you want, but she want to see your come now, Cynthia, help me with his pants."
Between the two girls Toni was stripped of his pants and shorts in a moment. His cock jutted in the air at full mast and Melody grasped it with both hands.
"Ohh--look, Cynthia. Two hands go around this big pole," she baby-talked as she began to tug up and down. "I told you it was a good one."
Tom gritted his teeth under the pressure of Melody's clenched fingers around his straining member. Cynthia was watching the action with a pleased grin from her kneeling position on the floor, and decided to join in.
"Want me to rub those funny balls?" she asked. Soft fingers cupped his testicles before he had a chance to reply. They massaged him delicately while Melody continued to work on his shaft. The sensations the two girls sent coursing through his body drove Tom wild.
"Hey," he panted, "it's not fair for you two to stare at my cock without me seeing any of what you've got." His hand was resting inside Melody's closed thighs now, and his fingers were massaging their soft flesh.
"What would you like to see?" Melody asked playfully.
Tom's eyes came to rest on the enormous globes pressing against Melody's sweater.
"Those," he said quietly. "They must be beautiful."
"I hope there's a magazine editor somewhere who thinks so," the suddenly mature Melody quipped. "Take over for me Cynthia," she said as she let go of Tom's penis.
Tom watched Cynthia's hand rise and clasp his hardon, and he welcomed the quick return of warm flesh around his meat. Melody held the bottom of her sweater and looked at him coyly. Then, she turned away from him and stripped it off in one graceful movement.
Melody Sullivan's back was smooth and white, and dimpled in all the right places. The overhead lighting in the studio made it glisten invitingly.
"Turn around," Tom grunted.
Her wavy red tresses bounced along her shoulder blades as she twisted her neck to give him a teasing look. He reached out and grasped her white shoulder, turning her sideways just enough to catch a glimpse of an enormous breast jutting forward from her rib cage.
"Ask Melody nicely," Melody baby-talked again.
"Please turn around, Melody," Tom said obediently.
Slowly and gracefully, like an accomplished stripper playing to her frenzied audience, Melody twisted her torso around until it came into full view. Tom gasped at what he saw.
Her tits were tremendous! They were incredibly large, rising from high up on her chest and swelling into huge alabaster mounds. Tom reached out in disbelief and cupped the left one. It was firm and muscular, and heavy as a melon.
He traced his fingers from the bottom of Melody's boob to the tip--which was covered with the largest nipple he'd ever seen. It was so big, and so subtly toned, that it was hard to tell exactly where it began. The smooth white skin of the rest of her breast blended in with the beige edges of the beige circle.
"My God--they're beautiful, Melody," Tom whistled. "You're going to make a terrific model."
Cynthia had rapidly increased her stroking of Tom's stiff dick, sensing his rising tide of excitement.
"Do her boobs turn you on?" Cynthia giggled as his prick swelled beneath her fingers.
"Yes," Tom gasped. "They make me want to come!"
"Good," Cynthia said, pleased. "I want to see you shoot your load. Do you want to see Tom come, Melody?"
"Yes. I want to see just how much come will spill out of that big dick of his," she baby-talked, gazing directly into his eyes.
"Bend over me," Tom whispered.
"What?"
"Bend over me. Bend over my cock. I want you to drape those beautiful tits over me. You can get a good view of me coming then."
"Is Big Daddy going to make me all wet?" Melody asked as she leaned across Tom's pelvis.
"If you want me to," Tom panted. "I'll come all over you if you want me to." Melody's breasts hung down from her like ripe fruit dangling from a trembling tree limb. She brushed her nipples over the tip of his dick.
"Come for us!" Cynthia urged as she pumped her small fist up and down his hot rod. "Come for us! Now!"
Melody reached down and cupped Tom's swollen balls. She gently pressed on them, and the sensation was unbearable. Tom pumped his pelvis wildly, and he could feel his gism swelling up within his shaft.
"EEEOOOWWWWW!" Tom screamed as he flexed his prick and shot his semen into the air. His voice was a shrill mixture of pain and pleasure.
"Wow!" Cynthia exclaimed. "Look at that! It's a geyser!"
Tom's wad went three feet high and fain a plop on Cynthia's slim ann.
"What about me?" Melody asked plaintively. She barely had the words out when another load gushed from Tom's straining dick and landed right in her cleavage.
"Oohhh--it's so warm," Melody said as she closed her eyes and luxuriated in the feel of his come dribbling down her enormous chest.
"Let's make sure we get all the come out," Cynthia said as she pumped rapidly on Tom's cock. Her action coaxed another globule of sperm from him, but this one wasn't going anywhere. It just oozed over the head of his shaft and dribbled across Cynthia's fingers.
"How nice," Cynthia said, pleased. She slowed down her hand and fondly squeezed the slippery semen-coated cock.
The teenagers' eyes were riveted on Tom's shrinking prick as he lay back against the bed gasping for breath. My fucking father-in-law should see this, he thought bitterly. My fucking wife should see it too.
"All calmed down now?" Melody asked pleasantly.
"I'm calm," Tom said in heaving breaths, "but what about you two? You must--"
"Later," Melody interrupted. "We have less than ninety minutes to get these photos. We can be taken care of later."
Less than ninety minutes, Tom thought with disgust as Melody forced him to switch mental gears from sex to business. It takes three days to get one fucking half-page photo for a perfume ad, and these kids want an entire magazine layout done in ninety-minutes.
Tom struggled his way to a sitting position, and looked around the studio for possibilities. When Melody had begged him for a modeling tryout Saturday, his original intention had been merely to humor her--and try to get into her virgin pants. But the idea these kids had come up with was good--and Melody's tits were even better. There was no doubt she was top-notch photographic material, and if lightning struck he just might actually get something published. And that would open a whole new world for him...
"Where should we go, Tom?" Melody was looking around, confused by the wide choice. The role of leader had fallen on Tom again.
He reached out and trailed his left hand over Melody's huge bosom.
"We've got to blend the models with the sets," he said thoughtfully. "A model can be great, and a set can be great, but sometimes you put the two of them together and they just don't work. A lot depends on your friend here."
"Cynthia, take your clothes off," he commanded. "Let's see what kind of model you'll make."
Cynthia obediently stood up and reached for the buttons at the side of her plaid skirt. Tom watched intently. Everything depended on how photogenic Cynthia's body was, and there was no way of predicting that until she was nude. Clothes could hide unsightly flab, varicose veins, any one of a hundred things which would ruin her for nude shots, pretty face or not. He hoped he wouldn't have to tell her she wouldn't do; there was no telling how Melody would react, and she was the one he needed.
Cynthia's skirt fell to the floor, revealing a shapely pair of legs. So far so good, Tom thought.
She reached inside the elastic on her pantyhose and quickly stripped them off. Her legs were lithe and tanned; they were downright beautiful, Tom realized.
Her smile betrayed a hint of shyness as Cynthia unbuttoned her blouse down the back. It slid over her shoulders and down her arms, falling to the floor in a heap on her skirt.
Nice midriff, Tom thought; slim, not an ounce of fat. And evenly tanned, just like the legs.
Cynthia turned around and unsnapped her brassiere. As it fell from her, Tom saw a beautifully bronzed back--one with the bright, golden tan only blondes can achieve.
Cynthia turned to face him. Two firm, pointed tits confronted his gaze. They were small but beautifully formed, and dotted with pert pink nipples that jutted straight out. And her breasts, like the rest of her body, were beautifully tanned. Cynthia was either a nudist or a sunlamp freak, and Tom didn't care which. All he knew was that the effect was staggering and would photograph terrifically.
"Beautiful!" Tom whistled.
"Glad you think so," Cynthia said modestly.
She bent over,' stripped off her panties, and stood straight up with her hands on her hips. Tom stared at a thatch of golden, wispy down between her legs; she was the first real blond he'd ever seen.
"All right, girls--let's go to work!" he said enthusiastically.
Tom Hansen was brisk and business-like as he walked toward the Hasselblad he'd loaded with 120-shot film. He didn't seem aware that he was walking around with his pants off and his dick dangling at half-mast in front of two teenage girls. He was being a craftsman now, and only the thought of creating good photographs excited him.
The girls' coloring creates a theme, Tom decided as he led them over to the "babbling brook" set. Golden Girl guides Cloistered Redhead. Nature's Child brings Shy Nymphet into the light.
"Melody, take your shoes off and put your sweater back on." Tom's instructions were brief and pointed as he focused the camera.
"Put it on?"
"Just do what I tell you--we don't have much time."
Tom motioned the girls to the other side of the brook. He directed Melody to stand on the vinyl rocks which formed the creekside, and told Cynthia to get ankle-deep in the water.
"Now reach out, Cynthia. Guide Melody in. The idea is she's reluctant, you want to help her. The two of you are going to share a warm experience together."
Cynthia followed directions and Tom was astonished at what he saw through the view finder. The scene was coming off beautifully--it was uncontrived and spontaneous, exactly what he'd hoped for. The girls were naturals, instinctively doing the right things, touching and gazing in just the right way.
Tom began to trip the shutter like a jackhammer.
"Help Melody take her sweater off," Tom shouted. "But I want it slow, very slow."
Cynthia reached out and, laying her hands on her friend, helped bring the sweater over her head. Melody's tits tumbled forward and Tom tripped the shutter frantically.
"Now touch her," Tom shouted again. "Melody is discovering her body, discovering herself, and you are helping. The two of you are discovering her together."
Cynthia's fingers explored Melody's bosom as Tom watched through the viewfinder. They trailed down along her neck, through her cleavage, across her huge nipples. In response, Melody reached out and caressed Cynthia's cheeks and earlobes.
"That's good, that's very good," Tom encouraged. "Now step forward gradually, very gradually, very slowly."
He watched anxiously as the girls moved toward him, The water's depth at the edge of the stream varied from one to eighteen inches, but in its center there was a ledge which created a sudden drop to four feet so that swimming scenes could be faked. Tom wanted to capture the girls' spontaneous reactions as they fell off it.
"That's it, keep coming, keep coming," Tom urged.
"Yeeoowwww!"
Cynthia and Melody screamed as they hit the sudden drop. Their fear turned to relief as their feet hit bottom and they splashed about.
"That's great!" Tom shouted. "Now splash each other--have a good water fight! Then I want you up on shore to take Melody's skirt off."
"No fair, Tom Hansen!" Melody shouted, her big tits like pontoons bobbing in the water. "You knew --"
"Don't look at me," Tom yelled. "Look at each other! Splash around!"
The topless teenagers followed instructions, and played in the stream like two water nymphs from an ancient Greek legend. Then Cynthia took her friend's arm and slowly led her to the side of the stream.
The girls stood still for a moment, gazing in each other's eyes. Then Cynthia's hands began to roam all over Melody's pendulous bosom, and along her snow-white midriff. They reached the sides of her skirt and unfastened it. The skirt dropped onto the rocks.
Melody bent down and slowly stripped her panties off. Her boobs hung forward heavily as she bent, and Tom saw that the nipples had grown erect.
Melody stood up completely naked and suddenly assumed the role of eager aggressor. Her hands played over Cynthia's lithe, tanned body. Her fingers seemed to be trembling as they brushed across her taut little nipples. Tom watched those nipples flower before him, and he began to wonder how much of the activity was play-acting.
Melody reached out and put her hand behind Cynthia's neck. Gently, she brought Cynthia's lips to her own and kissed them tenderly.
Tom became aware that his cock was rising again. He'd forgotten that he was naked, but this activity brought his attention back to his loins.
Cynthia and Melody were now necking seriously, with their hands roaming passionately over each other's backs. Their pelvis' touched, and their wet pubic hair was intermingling.
Gently, Melody brought Cynthia down to the rocks and, having completed the transition to aggressor, bent over her and planted kisses on her neck and torso while she lay back with her eyes shut.
Melody's creamy white ass was in the foreground of Tom's viewfinder, and Cynthia's blonde cunt was right alongside it. He snapped pictures eagerly. Cynthia's legs were demurely spread, like a young virgin unwilling to open wide. Her posture showed just enough of her cleft to be racy, but not enough to be pornographic.
Melody's lips brushed across Cynthia's taut nipples, across the bottom of her firm breasts, and down to her belly button. Her thick red tongue emerged and traced little circles inside the button. Cynthia began to moan.
"Hhhmmm, that's good," she said softly, running her golden hands over Melody's alabaster back. "That feels wonderful. Give me more."
Melody's tongue traced a zig-zag line from Cynthia's firm midriff to the rim of her golden pubic hair. It traced the skin bordering the thatch tantalizingly.
"Okay--cut it!" Tom shouted. He hadn't said a word during their passionate encounter because the girls had done beautifully on their own.
"Hey--why?" Cynthia asked plaintively. "We were just getting going!"
"I want you back in that four-poster, that's why. It'll make a great contrast with this stream scene. We'll be able to have a little story unfold that way."
The naked teenagers stood up arm-in-arm and watched Tom start to walk toward the bed.
"I see something strange, Cynthia," Melody cooed in her baby-talk. She grabbed her friend's firm golden ass as she spoke.
"I see it too," Cynthia responded. "It's something we don't have."
"What is that thing between his legs? It's huge!" Melody exclaimed.
"But it's pretty," Cynthia said. "It has a nice red end. It looks like there's an eye in it."
"I wonder what that thing is for?" Melody cooed as she put her forefinger in her mouth and sucked.
The sexual prospects offered by the girls' conversation were inviting, but Tom was still more concerned with the success of the photo session than he was with his hardon.
"Bring yourselves over to the bed and maybe you'll find out," he offered.
Still arm-in-arm, the nude girls scampered off the rocks and over to the four-poster. They sat on the edge of the bed and waited while Tom refocused the camera.
"Okay, we're set. Pick up where you left off."
"Gladly," Melody responded.
She draped her arms over Cynthia's shoulders and kissed her firmly on the lips. Cynthia immediately fell back on the mattress and passionately embraced her partner.
"Scoot over into the middle of the bed," Tom directed.
"I wonder why he wants us to do that?" Melody teased in baby-talk. "What does this man have in mind?"
"That big thing sticking out between his legs might have something to do with it," Cynthia replied.
"I wonder what he does with that?"
"I don't really care, snookums," Cynthia answered. "I like you even though you don't have that big red thing. You're so smooth and soft all over. And warm."
Melody bent down and hungrily French-kissed her friend. The two young bodies intertwined eagerly now, and began to rock back and forth on the bed. Cynthia broke off the embrace.
"Kiss me on the neck," she panted.
Melody's expert tongue quickly darted out and traced a line from Cynthia's earlobe to the base of her neck. Then it ran along her shoulder and quickly darted to the taut little nipple jutting from Cynthia's left breast.
Her tongue hovered over the nipple and flicked at it like a bird pecking at a worm. Then Melody's lush lips descended and planted a passionate kiss on the pointed little tit.
Tom snapped the camera repeatedly, catching every nuance of every pose as the girls rolled around together. Cynthia's back was arching as Melody's mouth drove hungrily along her ribcage and down her belly. The girls were being swept away by passion, and no director could stop them now.
Melody opened Cynthia's golden thighs wide apart and swooped down between them. She planted kisses all along the sensitive inner area just beneath her pelvic triangle.
Tom's prick stiffened even more as he took one last shot of Melody's flaming red tresses as they trailed along Cynthia's golden legs. He realized the girls had reached the point of no return as far as photography was concerned--because nothing they did from here on was publishable.
"All right, that's it!" Tom shouted. "Great job! Absolutely great!"
"Big man with big thing wants us to stop," Melody pouted. "Why does he want us to do that?"
"Does the big man have something better for us?" Cynthia asked. "I don't see how he could."
The girls' taunts were getting to Tom. The best way to shut them up, he decided, was to shove them full of stiff cock.
"I certainly do have something better," he said as he hopped on the bed. "You're going to love it."
"Ooo, look at that hunk of meat sticking out now, Melody! It's even bigger than it was before!"
"Where do you want it?" Tom rasped.
"What does he mean by that, Melody?" Cynthia asked in her childlike voice.
"I mean I can shove this into your mouth, or between your legs, or up your ass. Whatever's best for you."
"I don't think that huge thing could fit in any of those places, Mr. Hansen," Cynthia said, injecting a note of alarm into her voice.
Tom ran his hands along Cynthia's firm tits while Melody massaged her inner thighs. He could see the young blonde was really getting hot now.
"We won't know unless we give it a try," he said finally.
Tom stood on his knees and clambered over Cynthia's legs until he was right above her blonde pussy.
"Oooo, what's he going to do with that hard weapon, Melody? Is he really going to stick it inside me? It's so big and thick it will split me apart!"
"I'll hold this sac hanging down between his legs, Cynthia. If he hurts you, let me know and I'll pull him away."
Melody's fingers curled around Tom's scrotum. Their warmth was all he needed to send him plunging forward into Cynthia's box.
He felt tight, hot cuntflesh grasp the head of his cock. He struggled to get just an inch into Cynthia's canal. She was so tight he couldn't believe it.
"Oh, that doesn't feel bad at all, Melody," Cynthia sighed. "It feels very good, in fact."
Tom penetrated another inch into her cunt after another mighty thrust of his pelvis. He'd never been in such a tight pussy. The contrast between the sensations this adolescent gave him and his wife's loose-fitting cunt was the difference between night and day.
Tom grunted and tried a final shove. Cynthia yelped as he rammed his hard rod all the way up her tiny vagina.
"Wow! It feels like that big thing is going all the way up into my stomach, Melody!"
Tom felt Cynthia's pulpy young womb pressing hard against the head of his dick. He withdrew slightly, and then pushed forward again. He was beginning to get the rhythm of intercourse now, and the thrills Cynthia's tight sheath sent through him were unbelievable.
Cynthia's pussy started to lather, and Tom's cock slipped in and out more easily now. Cynthia wrapped her arms around him and began to moan.
"He was right, Melody," she groaned. "That big club of his really feels good inside me!"
Tom pumped his cock faster inside her, spurred by her compliment. Her slippery vise stayed clamped around his peter as he moved, and it pushed him to the brink of orgasm.
"I'm still holding his balls but it's hard to keep up with them!" Melody called. "He's ramming that weapon inside you too fast for me!"
Tom's cock strained, and an agonized groan escaped from his lips.
His rod trembled and throbbed inside the teenager's hot little box until it burst wide open, and he poured his come into her narrow canal.
"Oh! There's something hot and wet inside me now!" Cynthia exclaimed. "How strange! What a strange night this has been!"
That's right, Tom thought as he rolled off Cynthia and lay gasping on his back, looking straight up into Melody's enormous beige-tipped boobs.
It has been a strange night. And if things go right, there are going to be a hell of a lot more of them.
CHAPTER FIVE
Tom Hansen had been so anxious to see the results of the modeling session that he'd gone to the agency's lab right after the girls left. He stayed until the morning hours, and it was worth it.
The photos were nothing less than spectacular.
Tom knew that with just a little sleep his excitement would overcome his exhaustion. He went home, took a three-hour nap on the couch, and phoned in sick to the agency when he got up. Then he headed for a rental lab where he labored all day cropping, cutting and touching up.
When he was done, he realized he had a first-class product. Heady with the feel of success, he didn't take long in deciding who to submit the photos to.
Might as well go right to the top, he thought. And in the late afternoon, he bought an 11" x 14" manila envelope and addressed it.
He addressed it to Jerry York at Lance magazine.
The sun was setting by the time Tom raced downtown in his sports car to catch the last mail pickup. His mind was racing too as he conjured up all the things that might now be his: success, fame, money, important contacts, lots of pieces of ass. The rational part of him cautioned that he was jumping way ahead of himself, that even an acceptance didn't guarantee all that. But he enjoyed indulging himself, and so he luxuriated in his dreams of what might be.
Tom Hansen was so preoccupied he didn't notice a car make a swerving turn right in front of him, a dangerous turn which would have caused a smash-up had it been made a split second later.
He didn't realize that he owned both cars that were involved in the near-collision.
If he had, he might have realized that the young driver behind the sunglasses was his wife.
Linda Hansen didn't notice what happened either. She too was so preoccupied with her internal world that she was oblivious to the external one.
Tonight, she was headed for the agency's studio. And it was her turn to dream of success, fame, money--and hard cocks as well.
The thought that she'd soon be exposed to strange hardons sent a shiver through her as she made another turn.
Four male models willing to pose nude had been rounded up with a few phone calls Monday afternoon. She'd told the modeling agencies she wanted handsome, younger men, and that no prior experience in nude photography was necessary.
That had been easy. But the task of putting together a new publication seemed almost an impossible one. However, Linda Hansen was determined to get the job done no matter what the odds.
A magazine of the kind she was aiming at required three basic things: good photography, good writing, and as much advertising as possible. She could supply the photography herself. She was hoping that Rosalie Gomez, the agency's leading salesperson, could round up some advertisers. And she'd spent nearly all day with an old friend, Jennifer Hodgkins, trying to convince her to edit the magazine.
Jennifer was shocked when Linda approached her. Although she was in her mid-twenties and married now, Jennifer was still the prude Linda had known during their childhood years. They'd spent many long nights talking as they grew up together, and they'd shared many confidences. But whenever the subject of sex arose, Jennifer led the conversation in another direction.
"You want to do what!" she yelled when Linda explained her plan. "I can't believe it," she said, shaking her head in dismay. "I just can't believe it!"
Linda then tried to appeal to her from the standpoint of women's rights, and women's advancement in American society, a subject in which Jennifer was keenly interested. Linda said she felt women had been sexually repressed for centuries. The so-called "liberation" represented by the profusion of women's magazines was merely another instance of male domination. They were owned, edited and distributed by men--who couldn't have any valid concept of what women really wanted.
Linda's goal was a magazine produced and controlled only by females. It would be designed to break the sexual shackles which had bound women from time immemorial, and would be truly responsive to the wants and needs of modern women.
Such a magazine required a skillful, socially aware director, Linda said--and Jennifer Hodgkins was ideal. Before her marriage two years ago, she'd been assistant editor on a fashion magazine. She had all the background necessary to produce a first-class publication. Besides, Linda argued, the job would give her something important to do instead of waiting all day for her husband to come home.
After Linda's all-day barrage, Jennifer's reaction had warmed up to mixed. Linda left with a promise that Jennifer would think about it. She's got to say yes, Linda thought anxiously as she drove along; she's the only one I know who can handle the job.
The familiar sight of the agency brought Linda back to current reality, and she swung her car into the rear parking lot. As she turned off the ignition, she saw three men standing at the rear entrance to the building.
Linda took a long, deep breath to calm herself, and then hopped out of the car. She approached the men jauntily, a broad smile on her beautiful face.
"Hi!" she shouted, extending her hand in greeting, "I'm Linda."
The three men stared at her curiously.
"I'm Mark," a dark young man of medium build finally offered, shaking her outstretched hand. Two taller men, Don and Jeremy, introduced themselves in turn.
I'm going to see their big, hard cocks, Linda thought as she sized up each one. She wondered how she'd react to their erections, and there was an awkward pause in conversation while she day-dreamed.
"I was expecting another fellow too," Linda said finally. "Why don't we go inside, and get things set up. I'll come back and see if he shows."
The men stared at the ground as Linda spoke, and nervously kicked pebbles. They were obviously ill at ease, and their attitude increased Linda's tension. She opened the door and motioned them to follow her.
"What we have to do is simple," Linda said too loudly as she led them down the long corridor leading to the photography studio. "But we don't have much time, so I'll get right to it.
"Gentlemen, we're going to do some nudes tonight. That's nothing new. But you may be the first models in a national magazine which does feature something new. What's new is that... " Linda cursed herself for being unable to continue. She'd wanted to sound natural and business-like.
"What's new is that... we'll be showing you in a state of full excitement." She couldn't turn around to look at the men.
Finally, a lone voice spoke up.
"You mean... with erections?"
"Exactly."
The men laughed, pouring all their nervous energy into their outburst. Linda didn't know how to read their reaction, so she remained anxiously silent.
"Here we are," she finally said when they reached the studio's large double door. She opened it and quickly headed for the equipment locker while the men milled around. The studio was nothing awesome to them as it had been to Melody and Cynthia; they were professionals.
"Okay," Linda said absently, "where should we set up?" Her nerves were getting worse, and she hoped a quick set selection would take attention away from her.
"There," she said relieved, pointing at the babbling brook set. "Let's go over to the stream."
The men just stared back at Linda without moving. Finally, Jeremy spoke up.
"Are we all supposed to get in there together or what?"
"No, of course not," Linda laughed, immediately catching his implication. "This is a magazine for healthy women, not unhealthy men. We'll be showing you one at a time.
"Come on over and take your clothes off, Jeremy," Linda smiled. "We may as well start with you."
Jeremy shrugged and exchanged a glance with the other models. He followed Linda over to the stream and stood alongside her as she focused the camera. She seemed to be ignoring him, so he decided to take action to get her attention.
He calmly took his shirt, pants, shoes and socks off. He slipped out of his undershirt, and then his jockey shorts.
He stood before her stark naked.
Linda immediately turned to look at his cock, and the excitement of seeing a nude man crawled up inside her.
His prick was short and stubby, not nearly as big as Tom's she noted. His scrotum was a tiny, tightly-wound ball. The genitals did nothing to turn Linda on.
But the thought of his dick getting hard did turn her on. Immensely.
She wanted to reach out for his cock and give it life. She wanted to pump it into a state of appealing hardness, pump it until she coaxed all the semen out of it. She felt herself blush at the thought, and knew she had to escape for a moment to calm herself.
"Jeremy, why don't you go up on the set and get the feel of it? I'll go see if the other model has arrived."
"I'll go," Mark quickly offered. "No sense wasting your time if we've got to get all of us down tonight."
Linda glanced around at the three men and suddenly felt she was being ganged up on. She desperately needed a moment alone to pull herself together. But they seemed to have developed an unspoken conspiracy to take away her only excuse to leave.
"Mark! Come sack here!" Linda shouted in a shaky voice.
The young man turned around and walked reluctantly back to the group. Linda was pacing back and forth, folding and unfolding her arms nervously.
"Listen. I guess it's time to be honest with each other," she said slowly. "To be fair to you. And to be fair to me too.
"What I'm trying to say is, this whole thing is a first. It's the first time anyone's tried a publication like this. It's the first time you guys have modeled nude. And it's the first time I've ever... taken any nude photos.
"So we're all a little on edge. Maybe if we can just relax and understand each other, we'll come up with a good product. What do you say?"
Linda glanced at the young men to gauge their reaction, and she suddenly felt the air of tension melt away. Her speech had had a healing effect; they were on her side now.
"We've all got a lot of learning to do," Jeremy said from his perch atop the brook set. His voice was friendly, kind. "And Linda, you have more to learn than the rest of us."
"What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled.
"Well, I can't get a hardon just standing here, you know. I do things on command for most assignments. Give me a cigarette and I'll smoke it. Give me a can of deodorant and I'll spray it under my arms.
"But ask me to get a hardon? My peter doesn't just pop up on demand, you know."
The other two models looked at Linda and nodded their agreement.
"A man needs a reason to get a stiff rod, Linda. Bring a broad in here to play with me and I'll be fine. But I can't just stand here and give you what you want."
"I... I hadn't thought about that," Linda confessed, staring down at the floor.
"It's easy to overlook the obvious on a new project," Mark sympathized. "I'll be glad to come back tomorrow night. It'll give you time to round up a couple of girls."
Linda's mind raced. The studio was going to be occupied the next three evenings for a rush job. The weekend was out, people were always floating in and out to catch up on paperwork. Besides, she wanted to get things going as quickly as possible.
"Well, maybe all we need is me," she offered with a smile. "There's an automatic timer on this camera. I could help you guys get your erections while the camera handled itself!"
The three men stared at the dark-haired beauty who was practically pleading to play with their pricks.
"Now we're getting honest!" Jeremy quipped.
"What do you mean by that?" Linda asked.
"You only told us a half-truth before, Linda. This is a lot more than just a business session for you. It turns you on, doesn't it?"
"What makes you think so?" Linda asked defensively.
"It was the sight of my cock that really gave you your case of nerves, wasn't it?"
Linda breathed a deep sigh of relief. There was no more covering up necessary now.
"Do you know how I got the idea for this magazine?" she said, smiling seductively at the men.
"I saw a photo of a good stiff dick, that's how," she said in answering her own question. "That's all it was--a photo. But it taught me something very important.
"It taught me that I love hardons. And if my theory is right, other women like them too. And they'll be glad to pay to see them " Linda's candid statement left the men with looks of astonishment on their faces. She'd transformed herself from a nervous employer to a beautiful, sexually aggressive young woman.
Linda purposely swayed her hips as she walked over to the brook set after activating the automatic timer. She smiled as she draped her arm across Jeremy's shoulders.
She placed her other hand on Jeremy's stomach, and rubbed it suggestively. She smiled at him even more broadly, and impulsively kissed him on the cheek.
"Now that's the way to turn a man on," he said, hugging her.
"I see your cock is in agreement," Linda said slyly, her eyes dropping to his rapidly-extending prick. "Let's see if we can encourage it some more."
Linda's sensitive hand dropped to Jeremy's dick and tugged gently on it. She then skimmed her fingers along its underside until she reached his wrinkly balls. She massaged them eagerly.
Jeremy's cock grew and hardened as she worked.
"Now that's what I call a stiff prick," Linda said as she gazed at the distended organ. "Your cock looks much prettier that way."
"Thank you, ma'am" Jeremy said with a mock bow. The automatic timer whirred and the shutter tripped just as he spoke.
Linda realized the camera had caught her with his cock in her hand, and that hadn't been her plan.
"Okay, you should be all set now!" she said pleasantly as she stepped back to remove herself from the camera's eye. "Now stand to the side, Jeremy, so we can get some good profile shots of your dick sticking out. Remember, millions of women are going to be looking at it!"
Jeremy turned so that his hard prick was pointing directly at Linda, and she dropped her eyes to study it. It was still small, even though it was up--at least two inches smaller than her husband's, the only other organ she'd ever seen.
But his cock was hard, and that was the only thing that counted. That hardness, that readiness to fuck, was what she wanted to see. And if she was typical, millions of other American women wanted to, see it too.
She felt the love juice trickle between her legs, and she squeezed her thighs together instinctively. "Get in the water now, Jeremy," Linda shouted. "Bend over, bathe yourself--all the standard stuff. You know the ropes."
Jeremy followed directions. He stepped calf-deep in the water and adopted a number of poses. Linda ran down to the tripod, took the camera off it and snapped photos of Jeremy from different angles.
"That's it," she commented encouragingly with each pose Jeremy struck. "Looks good! More to the side now. Now look at me, look at me! Okay--now put your cock in your hand and smile!"
"What?!"
"Put your hand around your cock and smile!" she insisted. "You're just about to give it to a woman, to millions of women in fact. You're giving them a look at the beautiful hardon, and you're proud of it! Now hold it up!"
Pre-seminal fluid on the head of Jeremy's cock glistened under the lights as Linda found him through the viewfinder. He was holding his prick like a club, and Linda captured the pose from several angles before she stood up with a pleased smile on her face.
"What do I do with this hard on now that I've got it?" Jeremy asked. He was stroking his prick slowly. "You got it up--are you going to bring it down?"
"We'll see," Linda replied flippantly. "Maybe later. We'll see."
Linda was astonished at what she'd said. She could hardly believe what she was doing. A virgin before marriage, and a faithful wife to her husband, here she was massaging another man's penis and promising to give him more later!
It was the sight of hard cock that had done it to her--and her magazine would be a million seller because it would do the same thing to women all across America.
"Where do you want us to go, Linda?" Don asked.
He and Mark were standing alongside her, completely naked. She'd almost forgotten about the other, two models, and their appearance startled her. Her eyes dropped to their loins. Mark was flaccid but Don was already at half-mast.
"Don, get over in that shower and turn it on," she directed. Success in any modeling session depended on taking advantage of the right moment when it arose, and the models were obviously eager to please her now. "Mark, you go lie on that four-poster bed over there."
"Play with yourselves. Make those pricks hard! That's the only way I want them!"
The two nude men jogged off and Linda returned her attention to Jeremy. He was still hamming it up for the camera, and Linda raised the Hasselblad to eye level to take a few more shots.
"Hey, why don't you come on up here, and let the timer do that work?" Jeremy smiled. "I need something done for me that a machine can't manage " His hard red prick was pointing directly at her as he stood with his hands on his hips. Linda's gaze was drawn to it, and it began to hypnotize her. She realized what he wanted her to do, and that once she made a move there would be no turning back.
"All right," she replied agreeably. She placed the camera on the tripod and set the automatic timer. She walked up to the set, sat down on the near side of the stream, and motioned Jeremy to come to her.
Jeremy's stiff dick bounced crazily in the air as he ran over to her. He sat down on the rocks and spread his legs wide, so that his stiff shaft jutted straight into the air.
Linda's right hand grasped his straining hard-on, and the shutter tripped.
"Your fingers are warm. And sensitive." Jeremy said through gritted teeth. The shutter clicked again as her left hand found his balls.
"These pictures sure as hell aren't going to be published," Linda joked as she began to stroke up and down on the hard meat.
"Why not?" Jeremy asked. He suddenly grew thoughtful.
"Maybe some female involvement would be good," he offered. "Not a whole lot, but a shot or two in each layout. It would give your readers another woman they could choose to see things through if they didn't want to project themselves into the scene.
"You would be clinically regal," he continued, "sitting here fully clothed while you played with my hardon. You could bill yourself as the Queen of Cock or something."
The shutter whirred again as Linda contemplated the idea. It wasn't bad, not bad at all.
The Queen of Cock. She rather liked the title.
Her hand rapidly pumped up and down on Jeremy's prick while she struck a smiling pose for the next shot. Jeremy shivered, and spread his legs wide.
"Pardon me, but I think I'm going to come," he said with an embarrassed grin.
Linda marveled at his self-control. There was no huffing, puffing and moaning like there always was with Tom. Men, like women, are infinitely varied in their reactions to sex, Linda decided.
She gazed down at the pulpy head of Jeremy's dick. She smiled as she watched it swell and strain.
"I think you're ready to come," she said excitedly as the shutter tripped again.
Jeremy shot his load straight out in two quick jets. Linda was surprised at the small quantity of his semen, and she pumped methodically on his organ to make sure he was milked dry.
"Thank you," Jeremy said, only slightly out of breath. "I think you're going to get some good shots out of this."
"I just got some good shots," Linda joked, wiping her hand on her skirt to remove the semen.
"Hey--it's my turn now!" Don called from the bathroom set. Linda looked over, and was intrigued by what she saw.
He was tugging anxiously at his fully-erect prick. It was much longer than Jeremy's--about as big as Tom's Linda observed.
The hard shaft pleased Linda, and she picked up the tripod and went over to Don.
"All right, big boy. Turn on the water," she said pleasantly. "Spin around under it--do the same kind of thing Jeremy was doing. You know the ropes."
"How about if I just jerk off the whole time?" Don asked as he turned on the shower faucets.
"That's fine, but let me know before you come--I want to get in on it. I'm going to be in each of these scenes for a few shots."
"Don't worry, honey. I'll make damn sure you get in on it."
Don's wet hand slapped against his hard meat as he turned slowly in the shower, and Linda watched fascinated through the viewfinder. He alternately smiled, appeared pained, looked nonchalant--all the facial expressions an experienced model provides.
But Linda only noticed his big, hard cock. She felt her clitoris Stiffen, and pussy juice began to flow again. Jeremy had been relaxed and gentle-manly: the owner of this angry prick was more animalistic--and his spirit touched a sensitive nerve inside her.
Linda studied his prick. It was fleshy, and deeply veined. It was a couple of inches longer than Jeremy's, she realized, and she wondered what kind of load she could coax out of it.
"Okay, I think we've got enough," Linda called after she'd taken a number of shots. "Get out now, and I'll help you dry."
Linda set the automatic timer and dashed over to the tub. She grabbed a towel as Don stepped out, and began tousling his hair and drying his neck and back. Then she gently pushed him down into a sitting position on the edge of the tub.
As Don's big cock waved in the air before him, the shutter tripped. Linda dropped the towel in the tub and grabbed his rod with both hands. She ran her fingers up and down the shaft in a sideways motion, like she was peeling a grape. Don shut his eyes and leaned back.
"God you sure know how to use those fingers!" he groaned. He spread his legs wide apart and began pumping his pelvis.
"And you sure know how to make this big prick hard," Linda said admiringly. She was still using both hands, but stroking faster now. Don's dick was wide enough to accept all ten of her fingertips, and the sensations they gave him quickly brought him to the brink of climax.
"Ohhh, wow!" he moaned. "You really want me to shoot my load, don't you?"
"You said it," Linda replied. "I want your big prick to explode right in my hands."
Don could feel the load of semen racing through the center of his shaft, making a headlong dash to freedom. He grunted, leaned back further, and grimaced.
"GODDAMMNNN!" he yelled as the sperm jetted from him. He flailed his pelvis wildly, propelling every drop of sperm up from his trembling balls and through the gaping hole at the end of his rod.
Linda smiled with delight as his scum spilled from him. It didn't spurt from his body like Jeremy's, but just rolled in big globules down Linda's shapely fingers.
Linda's hands were soon covered with Don's gism. She took them off his meat and looked at them closely, fascinated by the milky fluid as it dribbled across her hands.
"Looks like you're doing a hair rinse commercial," a voice quipped.
Linda looked up with a start, and a shiver went through her. A short stranger was standing alongside her, leering at her!
"Hey buddy--what are you doing here?" Jeremy said, running over from the other set.
"I was invited, man," the stranger nonchalantly replied. "I'm a little late, but I was invited. Glad I showed up too."
"You're the fourth model then," Linda surmised. Her face was flushed with embarrassment. In a very short time she'd gone from faithful wife to free-spirited playgirl, but she wasn't ready to be watched by strangers like some go-go girl in a bar.
"I am, and my apologies for being late. I see you all got started without me," he smirked. Linda stared at him, and decided she disliked him. His manner was too smug, too dripping with conceit.
"I guess we left the back door open," Linda realized, upset at her cafelessness "Just walked right in," said the short man, lighting a cigarette.
"Jeremy, can you put your pants on and go lock up?" Linda asked quietly. "Meantime, since you're here--what's your name --?"
"Clyde. As in Bonnie and."
"Since you're here you may as well join in. To be brief, what we're doing is shooting for a new women's publication that will be very straightforward. It will--"
"I didn't think you were doing a spread for the Ladies' Home Journal," Clyde interrupted. "You want me to strip and get going, right?"
"Right," Linda replied as he unbuttoned his shirt. "I don't know what set we'll use you on, but we've got plenty to choose from."
Linda brusquely picked up her camera and tripod, and walked over to the four-poster. Mark, who'd remained a silent witness to the exchange, was lying there with a bemused look.
"Mark, you don't look like you're ready for the kind of shots we want," Linda chided. Mark's stubby little peter was completely flaccid. It was so small it was virtually lost in the mass of pubic hair surrounding it.
"A conversation like that is supposed to turn me on?" he joked. "I was waiting for you, Linda."
Linda set up the tripod, focused the camera, and turned on the automatic timer. She could see that without plenty of stimulation Mark's role in this session would be a wash-out.
Linda stared at his small cock as she sat down on the bed alongside him, This organ looked different than the other three she'd seen in her life; there seemed to be an extra roll of flesh at its end. But she didn't want to ask about it, especially in front of the arrogant stranger, and so she said nothing.
"Sit up, Mark, she said as she hoisted him by the shoulders. "Get on the edge of the bed so we'll be in full view of the camera."
Linda reached down and caressed Mark's small scrotum as he positioned himself. She ran her fingertips over the wrinkly flesh for a few moments, but saw there was no change in his penis.
She reached for his dick, tugged on it--and it responded immediately. Linda's eyes danced with excitement as the prick lengthened and widened.
"I like hard cocks," she said in a throaty voice. "Only stiff, hard cocks ready to perform. This is more like it."
Mark's rod was indeed stiff now, and turned out to be a shade bigger than Jeremy's in full bloom. Linda was jerking him off with her left hand, a contented smile on her face, as the automatic timer methodically tripped the shutter.
"Can't wait for my turn."
It was Clyde's voice. Linda flicked her eyes up and saw him standing alongside the camera. She experienced the same feeling of distaste she'd felt before--and then it caught her eye.
The biggest prick Linda Hansen had ever seen dangled limply between Clyde's legs. She felt a shiver of disbelief run through her; she didn't know anything like that even existed.
The hunk of meat was longer just hanging there than Tom's was when fully erect. And Clyde's organ was so thick it was incredible--thicker than her wrist, it seemed.
"See something you like, baby?" Clyde smirked.
Linda was speechless. She couldn't take her eyes off that tremendous cock. The head alone was bulkier than Mark's entire flaccid organ.
"I see something I don't like," Linda recovered. "And that's you. Looks to me like there's only one outstanding thing about you."
"Yeah, and it's pretty outstanding. Got the nerve to give it a try?"
Clyde's question verbalized Linda's thoughts. She'd been trying to imagine stuffing all that cock into her pussy, but she couldn't; it would split her wide open.
"That's not her bag," Mark said from his prone position on the bed. Linda's hand was pumping automatically on his stiff prick, and the sensations were spreading throughout him.
"Linda wants to see hard dicks," Mark panted. "She doesn't care about size."
"That's easily arranged," Clyde smirked.
He wrapped his right hand around his enormous tool and Linda watched in stunned fascination as he began to play with himself. The head of his instrument flopped out of his fist like an organ all its own; incredible as it seemed to Linda, she actually saw five inches of meat hanging over the end of his fingers.
Linda watched him jerk himself off, and he in turn stared at her beautiful face.
His prick soon became rigid, and the sight of it made Linda's already-hard clit strain until it seemed it would burst.
"There--does that look better to you?" Clyde asked as he removed his hand and turned to the side. Linda gulped. The prong sticking from this little man's body was at least ten inches long, and thicker than two ordinary cocks put together! Linda couldn't believe her eyes.
"That's very admirable." Linda tried to sound snide, but she couldn't completely hide the awe she felt. "We'll put you on another set as soon as we've finished shooting Mark."
"I had something different in mind," Clyde said, his leer reappearing.
Linda stared at him, trying to read his meaning. Then another movement distracted her.
Don was approaching them, his cock harder than ever. The look in his eyes said he was ready, When she'd started out on this project, Linda reflected, she'd no conscious idea that she'd get involved in anything like this. She was going to put together a magazine and have some titillating fun along the way--and that was it.
But now she was a hot island in a sea of hard pricks. It appealed to something primeval in her, something she hadn't known was there. She wanted to throw away everything her culture had ingrained in her--and let these men have anything they wanted.
"Okay," she said, hearing her words from a distance as though someone else were saying them. "We can have a little session, if you guys are up to it."
Jeremy had just returned and he threw a questioning glance at Linda. She looked at him and then spoke in, a seductive voice.
"Bring your beautiful cock over here Jeremy," she smiled. "You've been very nice to me, and I want to reward you."
Linda zipped open Jeremy's fly as soon as he reached the bed. She massaged it gently, and soon it rose and struck straight out at her.
She'd continued pumping on Mark's prick with her right hand while she played with Jeremy. Her eyes took on a dreamy cast as she looked from one organ to another.
"Two hard cocks," she sighed. "One in each hand. How great!"
Linda's racing fist had brought Mark to the peak of excitement by now. His thigh muscles were tensed and his taut torso showed how close to orgasm he was.
"Shoot your load for me," Linda urged in a hoarse whisper. "I love your hard cock, and I want to make it explode."
Mark grunted, and rocked his pelvis back and forth.
"Your dick is ready to burst," Linda said as she watched the swollen member. "Go ahead. Relieve yourself. Let it go." Fluid began seeping out of the head, and Linda grew more excited than ever.
"Shoot your hot come out where I can see it!" she shouted.
Milk-white semen flew all over Linda' skirt at the instant she asked for it. She continued pumping away while Mark shuddered and groaned.
"One down," she commented. "Three to go."
"Let's get that skirt off you and see what you've got," Don said as he climbed on the bed and pushed Linda down on the mattress.
Don's hands reached under Linda's firm ass and undid her skirt. He slipped it over her tanned, shapely legs and dropped it on the floor.
Jeremy leaned over and began massaging Linda's smooth belly, letting his fingers roam tantalizingly over her pelvis. Don joined in, tickling her inner thighs with his fingers.
The sensations exploding in Linda's cunt were like nothing she'd ever known before. Her love juice was flowing profusely, oozing out of her like water from an underground spring.
"Let's get those panties off," Jeremy said gently.
He slipped his fingers into the elastic and pushed Linda's panties over her long legs. Then he drew back to survey what he'd revealed.
Linda's thick mound of pubic hair glistened invitingly under the studio lights. Her pink slit was barely visible in the middle of the sable growth, but her profuse creaming was quite apparent.
Jeremy stood with his stiff cock scant inches from her lips, and Linda gazed at it fondly. She reached out and tugged on it again, reveling in the feel of its slippery hardness in her hand.
"Climb on top of me," she whispered to Jeremy. "Fuck me."
Jeremy eagerly accepted the invitation. He quickly hopped on the bed, clambered between Linda's knees, and poised above her pussy with his dick in his hand.
"Stick me with your hard cock," Linda groaned. Jeremy seemed hesitant for a moment. He stared at her fondly, feeling genuine affection for the beautiful young woman lying beneath him with her legs spread wide open.
Linda quickly grabbed his prick and brought it to her hole. She desperately needed something to fill her cavity right away; it felt like there was an infinite vacuum inside her, one that could be dispelled only with the intrusion of a hot male tool.
Jeremy felt his cock slide easily into Linda's squirming vagina. He shoved it to the hilt, and felt it enveloped by slippery, wet cuntflesh. He groaned his appreciation.
"God, you're wonderful," he breathed into Linda's ear as he humped her. "You're really wonderful. My dick feels so good inside you!"
"Let's see if she'll be wonderful for the rest of us too," Clyde said as he approached the bed. Don exchanged a glance with him.
Four hands reached for Linda's blouse, and it was quickly removed. Her tits were spilling over the top of her tight bra, beckoning the men. Jeremy supported himself on his hands to allow the others to work at Linda's torso, and the bra was soon ripped from her.
The large, sloping tits tumbled free, falling down her ribcage and stopping just above her belly button. Her bright pink nipples stuck out in full erection. They were larger and stiffer than Linda had ever known them.
Don bent down and sucked on her right nipple, licking and sucking it like a starving man. Linda shut her eyes and writhed under the hotness of his mouth.
One thought dominated Linda's mind--the hard cocks which surrounded her. They made her more excited than she'd ever been in her life.
Jeremy's prick was slapping in and out. of her furiously, but it didn't make her feel complete. She wanted all three men inside her at once; she wished she could enjoy all three beautiful pricks simultaneously.
Suddenly Linda felt something warm and heavy fall across her face, and she opened her eyes.
Linda was shocked to see Clyde's monstrous prick just inches from her eyes, slithering across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose like an angry snake. She felt like she was looking at a penis through a magnifying glass every line, every vein stood out in booming detail.
The size and closeness of Clyde's cock turned Linda on even more. She loved the heavy, slippery feel of it as it slid over her skin.
The huge cock fell from the tip of her nose to her lips. All Linda had to do was open her mouth and she'd be able to taste it, to see if dick felt as good on her tongue as it did inside her pussy.
But Linda had never sucked off a man before, and couldn't quite bring herself to do it. Instead, she shifted her attention to still another activity that was taking place.
Don's cock was burrowing along the tops of her tits, sinking into the soft flesh and carving a hot channel to run in. He was simultaneously rubbing the top of his shaft, and his clenched eyelids and heaving torso indicated he would soon spill his come on her.
Three men... three cocks... all thrusting at her from every direction. It was too much for Linda's libido; she took the final plunge.
She opened her, mouth wide, and Clyde's immense organ fell into the groove her lips created. The angle was too awkward for Linda to approach the huge tool head on, and she was glad. Fitting that bulbous cockhead into her mouth was a frightening prospect.
Linda sucked tentatively on the fleshy pole as it slid across her wet mouth. It tasted warm and spongy, and she enjoyed its texture on her tongue.
Linda Hansen could hardly believe it.
She was doing the unthinkable.
She was sucking on a man's cock!
Her tongue flicked along the underside of the massive instrument, exploring the smooth feel just below the rim of the organ. Then she curled her tongue under the enormous prick and formed a cradle for it to rock back and forth in.
Jeremy was plunging relentlessly into her cunt with his stiff weapon, and Don was jerking himself off rapidly into her soft bosom. Linda realized with a thrill that she was having it all. Three men with three stiff cocks were pleasing her in three different ways.
The thought triggered a stabbing sensation in her cunt, a searing jolt of sexual electricity unlike any she'd ever experienced.
"OHHHH... I'M GOING TO COME NOW!"
Linda was screaming at the top of her lungs--but the sound she made was barely audible. It came from deep within her throat as a pained murmur, an other-worldly gurgling sound. Her eyes were opened wide in disbelief at the intensity of the orgasm, and her mouth clamped the middle of Clyde's rod as though it were her only anchor to reality.
The three men immediately reacted to Linda's incredible outburst of feeling.
Clyde's heavy cock lurched forward, sliding rapidly across Linda's wet lips. It strained visibly, and Clyde grunted like an agonized animal.
Linda watched the white come ooze from his big cock and drop in heavy globules on the sheet alongside her. Clyde instinctively drew his prick backward, imitating the rhythm of intercourse. But his dick was so big that its semen-splashed end didn't reach Linda's hungry lips as he moved it back and forth. She felt relieved; she didn't know how she would have reacted to that.
Jeremy's body was a frenzy of sexual activity; his dick moved in and out of her at lightning speed. His face was red, and his arms and body trembled in the incipient stages of climax.
"This is for you Linda!" Jeremy yelled as he thrust his cock as far as he could into her lathered pussy.
Warm come spilled into her cunt in little waves. She tightened her pussy around Jeremy's organ, trying to squeeze every drop she could from his rapidly-subsiding instrument.
Jeremy dropped in a sweaty heap across the bed, panting like a marathon runner at the end of his long race. It was Don's turn now, and his groan caught Linda's attention just in time.
She watched as he squirted his gism over her big tits. Linda felt it dribble down her bosom, and a smile of pure pleasure appeared on her beautiful face. She felt as if the two men had bathed her--both inside and out--in the world's most soothing balm.
The models all fell away from Linda, each one trying to recover his breath and composure. But Linda felt just the opposite, as though she'd gained, not lost, something, something living. which infused her entire being with a new enthusiasm for living.
Linda stretched and arched her back, like a cat luxuriating in the sun.
She felt re-born.
She had a new magazine underway, one which could conceivable make her the toast of the entire nation.
She felt a new sexual completeness. She had learned much about her body and herself tonight--and the truly sensual nature which had lurked just beneath the surface all those years.
Linda Hansen reached out and grabbed Clyde's dick. She tugged on the huge, helpless piece of meat and enjoyed the feel of power it gave her.
Linda Hansen, Queen of Cock.
She liked the title, and hoped to wear it well.
CHAPTER SIX
Tom Hansen paced behind his desk, taking deep breaths and running his hands through his hair.
He'd been this way every morning for the last ten days, waiting for the mail to come into his office. It had been four weeks since he'd sent the photos off to Lance. But with the eagerness of the fledgling contributor, he was hoping for a minor miracle.
Marlene, a big-tilted black girl, finally appeared with the mail. They exchanged pleasantries, but Tom was unable to look at her. His eyes were fastened to the material she spilled into his "in" box. It seemed an eternity before she left.
Tom raced through the box, spilling several pieces on the floor. His heart pounded like a bass drum inside him. Ads, business junk, subscription offers--and then he stopped, shaking in his shoes.
There it was.
A simple 3" x 8" envelope with the Lance emblem serving as the complete return address. Tom ripped it open and read: Dear Mr. Hansen: Thank you for your submission.
We are very pleased with your photos. The models are superb, and you've captured a spirit of genuine tenderness in the girls' relationship.
We will offer you $2,500 for this layout.
Further, we would like you to come to New York with your models so we can explore further projects. You are invited to my home for a cocktail party the evening of the 26th, and we can meet the following morning for a business session.
Yours truly, Jerry York Editor & Publisher Lance R.S.V.P.
Tom sank into his chair dazed. He'd made it! And with a personal invitation from Jerry York!
The 26th was only three days away. He had a massive amount of detail work to do: excuses to find for Linda and the girls' parents, travel arrangements, time off from work. But this was his big chance, and he'd do anything necessary to capitalize on it.
The first step was his wife. That should be simple: a business trip, some out-of-town shooting, would get past her. He occasionally had to do that anyway, although Linda always seemed to resent his leaving. He would be all right if only she didn't check with her father...
He dialed home, and did his best to make his voice weary and displeased.
"Listen, hon, something's come up. I've got to do some shooting in New York at the end of the week. But it'll be only for a few days--I should be back Sunday."
His wife's acquiescence surprised him.
"I guess business is business, isn't it?" she sighed "When are you leaving? I'll pack for you."
Linda Hansen hung up the receiver, sat down in a chair, and put her face in her hands. She'd been edgy for weeks; the effort it took to put together a new magazine was incredible.
But she'd done it. Jennifer Hodgkins was editing (although she refused to look at the photos, leaving layout work entirely to Linda), and she'd used her contact to come up with several quick free-lance stories and articles. Rosalie Gomez had done a spectacular job of lining up current and contingent advertising--she'd called exclusively on female business owners and managers--and over half the cost of their first edition was funded. The rest Linda had taken care of with a commercial loan secured by her trust fund.
But the most nerve-wracking part of the effort was sneaking around Tom, making up the lies about her activities. The magazine was at the printers now, and all the last-minute changes had been made. The presses were rolling, and Rosalie had arranged a press conference the same time the first copies were scheduled to hit the local stands.
Thank God he was going to be out of town.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The sleek limousine glided to a stop in front of the most awesome home the three passengers had ever seen.
Melody's heavy tits bounced up and down and her short skirt rode to her crotch as she clapped with glee.
"My God! I feel like I'm dreaming! I can't believe this is actually happening!" she gushed.
Tom looked at her calmly. Inside, he was just as excited as she--but he was unwilling to reveal it.
He stared down her thighs until he reached her crotch. He wanted to fuck Melody right then and there. But the girls had been merely polite to him since their photo session. There'd been no more wild sex, and Tom realized they'd merely been using him. But that was all right with him. Because tonight he was going to use them. Their blossoming teenage bodies were going to become the pawns in his game--if his conjecturing proved correct.
Tom had done a lot of thinking after receiving Jerry York's letter. He was certain that all first-time photographers and their models were not invited to parties at this pad and business sessions later. No, there had to be a reason--and it had to be contained in the pictures York saw.
They showed two beautifully naked teenagers cavorting with each other, and featured a strong hint of lesbianism. So York's special thing was either teenagers or lesbians, and Tom planned to do his level best to find out which one it was--and to make sure the girls catered to it.
Melody, Cynthia and Tom stepped out of the limo and gazed at the mansion. It was four stories high, with huge windows revealing so much inside light that it looked more like an office building than a home.
They walked in awe up a dozen steps and passed beneath huge Georgian columns before they reached the front door. They rang the bell and were greeted by a man in a tuxedo.
"May I help you?" he asked noncommittally.
Tom said they'd been invited by Jerry York; the man asked them to step inside. They found themselves in a large foyer along with four armed guards. There was a massive stained door at the end of the room which looked to be solid steel.
The man in the tuxedo made a phone call, nodded, and then turned his manner into a pleasant one as he asked the trio to follow him. He rang another bell several times--in some sort of code, Torn deducted--and the inner door opened.
A lush blond whose bright red nipples poked over her loose-fitting satin evening gown greeted them.
"You must be Tom, and Melody, and Cynthia!" she said in an overly-friendly voice.
"We are," Tom answered, his eyes riveted to the enormous areola the blond was showing him.
"Jerry will be with you shortly," the blond smiled. "He's anxious to meet you all. Why don't you come this way and have some refreshments?"
They entered a huge area that would have been the living room in a normal home, but served as the entertainment center here. It was as big as a gymnasium, with huge chandeliers hanging from the cathedral ceilings.
Another pair of bouncing tits caught Tom's eye. He stared at an incredibly sculptured. young woman who seemed to be hurrying toward him. Oddly, she looked very familiar.
"Mr. Hansen?" she asked pleasantly, extending her arms and brushing her enormously wide tits in the process. They had to be at least 40D's, Tom decided. He could see the outline of their big nipples pressing against her yellow chiffon dress.
"Yes," Tom replied casually. He was trying to play the role of a sophisticate, someone distinctly unimpressed with the splendor surrounding him.
"I'm Carla Langley," the brunette said as she took his hands. "Mr. York's personal secretary."
Tom stared at the massive tits and let his eyes roam over the rest of this woman's beautifully curved body. Carla Langley! She wasn't York's secretary; she was his personal protegee and mistress. And last year, she had been Plaything of the Year!
Tom mentally undressed her, remembering her magnificent body from the many spreads he'd seen in the magazine. He visualized her firm white ass, the big nipples, the brown thatch of curly pubic hair.
"Don't try to look at me through this dress!" Carla teased. "It's not worth the trouble. If you take a swim with us later on, you'll see everything you want to see!"
Tom was thoroughly embarrassed, and he felt himself blush. The girl seemed so natural about it all that he probably shouldn't have felt that way, but he couldn't help it.
"Would you all like something to eat? Or drink? Or smoke?" Carla asked pleasantly.
"Smoke?" Melody responded immediately. "You mean grass?"
"Grass or anything else you'd like," Carla replied. "But since this is your first visit to the mansion, let me explain the ground rules to you before we go any further.
"As outlined in the Lance philosophy, Jerry York believes no one should be coerced into anything. So we have this ballroom area out here for conventional tastes--liquor, conversation, dancing.
"In a room down this hallway," Carla said, pointing with her left hand, "we have a supply of dope for those who partake. In the back of the mansion there's a swimming pool for nude dips--or, you can wear trunks if you prefer.
"If you want to fuck at any time, you can go upstairs. There are groups, and there are also private rooms for individual encounters."
"Some dope would be nice now," Cynthia interjected with a smile. Carla looked at Tom and Melody to get their agreement, and then she led them down the hallway.
They came into a dim area thick with the acrid odor of marijuana. About a dozen people lounged in beanbag chairs, talking and laughing.
They were quickly approached by a stolid-faced waiter who offered them a tray filled with dope, pipes and other paraphernalia. Only the precocious Cynthia looked beneath the tray, and what she saw caused her to bring her hand to her face and gasp.
A half-hard cock was sticking through his open fly.!
Melody picked up three joints from the tray and offered one to each of her companions. Tom took his unwillingly--he'd smoked only one in his life--but Carla held a lighter for him before he could figure a way to gracefully back out. He lit the weed, but held the smoke in his throat. He wanted nothing to interfere with his thought process on this all-important evening.
Cynthia was poking Melody in the ribs, trying to point out the waiter's hardon--but Melody was too busy drawing on her own joint to pay attention.
"Waiter! Waiter! Another smoke, please!"
The sultry female voice came from a beanbag just to his right. Tom glanced over and saw that it belonged to a stunningly attractive young woman.
Her milk-white coloring contrasted beautifully with her flaming red hair. She reached up a long arm as the waiter approached, placed it gently behind his head, and brought him to his knees before her.
She spread her thighs, and Tom gulped at the curving white legs exposed through a slit in the dress.
"You must be getting tired," she said softly to the waiter. "You ought to take the pause that refreshes."
The girl swung her right leg over the back of the beanbag and revealed a twinkling red bush. Tom couldn't believe his eyes--but the waiter's face was unbroken by any show of emotion.
The gaping crimson cunt glistened in the soft light. The waiter examined the pussy and then moved toward it. His tongue suddenly flicked out along the sides of the cleft.
The redhead pushed her pussy directly into his face as she arched her back and slumped deeply into the beanbag. She wrapped her legs around his neck and locked them together.
The waiter licked at the scarlet pussy until soft moans of delight came from the redhead.
"Having a good time, everyone?"
Jerry York had joined the group.
Tom instantly felt awestruck: he was in the presence of a living legend. Jerry York was smiling pleasantly at him with an expression that was still boyishly charming even though he was in his early thirties now. The famous shock of blond hair that curled over his forehead made him look much younger.
"Yes, it's a nice party," Tom replied, trying to be the sophisticate, trying not to reveal his utter amazement at the activity taking place in the beanbag.
"I don't know whether the waiter's having a nice time," Cynthia giggled.
"Why's that?" York asked.
"Because he's got that hard cock sticking through his pants and it doesn't look like the redhead plans to do anything with it!" Tom and Melody finally noticed the tip of the waiter's bursting organ protruding through his open fly.
"Do you want to help him out, Cynthia. It is Cynthia, isn't it?"
"Well, I don't even know the guy," Cynthia said, ignoring York's question. "I don't know if--"
"Carla, why don't you help Cynthia out?" York's face was creased with a grin, but he left little doubt that his suggestion was tantamount to a command.
The two young women exchanged mischievous smiles. Then Carla dropped to her knees and scooted across the carpet to the beanbag, with Cynthia right behind.
The waiter's tongue was dipped into the cunt that had been thrust upon him. Gurgling sounds came from deep within the redhead's throat; the skillful tongue had transported her into another world.
"Will it be okay if I just grab his cock?" Cynthia whispered to Carla, pointing at the flaming head.
"I think so. But don't grab his dick--caress it. Be gentle."
Cynthia delicately placed her thumb and fore-finger over the hard cockhead, and squeezed the pulpy flesh in little circular movements. She stared in fascination at the hole in the center of the prick; milky pre-seminal fluid was beginning to seep from it.
"I'd like to get his, whole dick out," Cynthia whispered, "so I can see how big it is!"
"Then just open his zipper, silly!"
"But he doesn't even seem to know what we're doing! Suppose he doesn't want me to?"
"Just go ahead!"
Cynthia opened his zipper and a huge hardon instantly popped free of its confines. "It's magnificent!" Cynthia declared, looking back and forth from the cock to Carla.
"It is. It's a beautiful dick," Carla agreed.
"It's so big I need your help to hold it all!" Cynthia giggled.
"Sure," Carla replied. She leaned forward to place her right hand into the waiter's pants, and the tops of her ample breasts spilled out over her gown.
"I've got his balls," she smiled.
"How do they feel?"
"Soft. And they're big--very big."
"Let me have a look!"
Carla reached around the waiter's buttocks and yanked his pants down to his knees.
"God, that's a beautiful cock!" Cynthia exclaimed as the genitals came into full view. "And his balls are the biggest I've ever seen!"
The waiter's prick stood proudly erect, it's bulbous head glistening with milky fluid. Cynthia eagerly grasped his huge testicles in her right hand, and wrapped her left around the base of his hard shaft.
The waiter sucked on the redhead's pussy as if oblivious to the activity at his own loins. His nose was nestled at the top of her cleft, and his exhalations wafted gently against her turgid clit. His lips curled inside the outer lips of her wet vagina, and his tongue rolled around the slippery insides of her most secret place.
Her cunt was pulsating and quivering as though it had a life of its own, as though it would reach out and suck his entire head inside with one vacuum-like pull.
Carla gently grabbed the top of his huge shaft. She smiled at Cynthia, and they began pumping up and down the thick instrument in unison. The pre-seminal fluid flowed more profusely from the red end of the organ. Carla pointed at it with her free hand and winked.
Carla Langley swooped down on the hard cock and licked away the juice with deft strokes of her tongue.
Up above the redhead had taken all the licking she could stand. Her face was flushed, and she'd ripped the top of her black gown off. She was furiously massaging her pointed tits and taut nipples.
The waiter recognized the signs of approaching climax.
He drew away from the redhead's gaping cunt, and just tickled her pert red clit with his tongue. The redhead smiled broadly and moaned as he worked over the throbbing little muscles.
"Is she coming?" Cynthia asked Carla.
"I think they're both coming!" Carla replied.
The redhead's thigh muscles grew taut and she shoved her cunt into the waiter's face. She panted furiously, and moaned like an animal as the delicious thrills of orgasm cascaded through her.
And the cock in the girls' hands had approached a parallel point of excitement.
"Here it comes!" Carla yelled as she watched the swollen prick.
His pelvis jerked forward and a huge stream of semen jetted from his dick. It shot four feet, and landed on Carla's gown.
"Wow," Cynthia commented. "With all that stuff in there, no wonder the poor thing looked like it was going to burst."
"The show's not over yet," Carla smiled.
Cynthia looked at the huge organ again, just in time to see another spurt of semen shoot from it.
"He's going to lose two pounds," Cynthia giggled.
"It must be ages since the poor man came," Carla said sympathetically. "He's shooting quite a load."
Her eyes aglow with excitement, Cynthia watched as two more spurts of semen issued from the straining dick. The last contributions fell on their hands and forearms.
"Things are getting a bit sticky around here," Jerry York quipped. "What do you say we go for a swim?"
The two girls stood up and wiped their hands clean of semen on a towel York had tossed them. Then the five of them headed down a hallway toward the swimming pool.
Tom's prick was hard. He hoped that no one was looking at his crotch, because he doubted he was having a "sophisticated" reaction.
But the sight of the Plaything of the Year and a beautiful teenage companion pumping eagerly on a big spurting cock had turned him on beyond belief.
And the scene had put his mind to work too. He'd watched York throughout the session, and it seemed his blue eyes grew hard as he observed. There was a strange light in them--an eerie combination of bitterness and yearning. Tom had to understand what it meant if he was to take full advantage of his short stay here.
There was no doubt, Tom reflected, that York had orchestrated the entire scene. He'd encouraged--indeed, commanded--his own lover to initiate her assault on the waiter. He wanted it to happen.
York led the group to a huge sliding glass door, and opened it to reveal a double Olympic-size pool. Tom gulped when he saw the activity in and around it.
Young nude bodies splashed and played everywhere. Tom's eyes were unable to focus with all the bouncing tits, dripping pubic thatches and shimmering young asses which vied for his attention.
"You four go inside the dressing room and hang up your clothes," York said. "Carla, I'm going upstairs to get some trunks--I'll be right back."
Tom was surprised and confused by York's last remark. Everybody else in the pool was nude, but Jerry York--head of the Lance empire, a leading force in the nation for sexual liberation, for a decade--was going to get a bathing suit.
Why?
Carla Langley's beautiful ass swayed invitingly in front of Tom as she led the way to the dressing room. He was so mesmerized by it he had no chance to look again at all the lush flesh splashing around the pool.
Carla found two empty lockers on one side of the room, and two more on the other. Melody and Cynthia went together to the other side, and Tom heard their teenage whispering and giggling begin immediately.
The next thing Torn knew, Carla's golden dress had fallen to the floor in front of their lockers. Tom loosened his tie, trying mightily to keep himself from glancing sidelong at her.
"You can look at me," Carla said, unembarrassed.
Carla Langley's tits were huge, and as beautifully formed as nature could make them. Large brown nipples covered their tips. Her midriff was flat and muscular; a dark brown patch of pubic hair curled between her shapely legs. Her thighs were tanned and firm.
"Guess you didn't need York to become Plaything of the Year," Tom said admiringly.
"No, I didn't," Carla said as she found a hanger for her dress. "The selection was made by an independent panel of editors. Jerry purposely removed himself from the judging."
"Speaking of Jerry," Tom said tentatively as he hung up his jacket, "can I ask you something about him?"
"Sure. But I might not answer."
"Fair enough. Well, how comer... "
Tom stumbled, searching for the right words. "How come what?"
"How come he 'wears bathing trunks?" Tom blurted. "I mean, he's supposed to be--"
"I know, I know," Carla said in a weary voice. "I know all about it."
"What's his problem?" Tom dared as he slipped off his slacks.
His hardon stretched his underwear but Carla made no comment. She looked at him with searching eyes, trying to read him, trying to decide if he was a friend who could be trusted.
"He'd have me deported if he knew I talked about him," she finally quipped.
Tom stripped off his shorts and his erect penis sprung free and flopped about in the air. He didn't say a word; he didn't want to come across too eager.
"There's nothing wrong with him," Carla said absently, "absolutely nothing. But he's got this complex because... because he's not well hung.
"If I've told him once I've told him a million times," she rushed. The words were spilling from her now, as though she were in a confessional. "I couldn't care less how big or little his dick is. I'm his mate, and I love him, and I want to marry him. "But he won't listen. I want to forget about all these damned wild parties, and the swinging, and the dope. I just want to spend quiet evenings at home with him. But he won't let up--he's a driven man."
"Why is all that necessary for him?"
"Because... he can't function sexually unless he's watching me play with some big cock, or watching me get fucked by another man. So we go on. But I'm sick of it, and I'm ready to get off the merry-go-round."
Tom's mind churned. He put together this conversation with what he'd surmised about York's interest in teenagers, and an idea flashed to him.
"I've come up with something that may help," he said. "You'll have to let me talk to my models a minute. And you'll have to trust me."
Carla just looked back at him with a helpless look in her big brown eyes. He nodded at her, and walked over to Melody and Cynthia.
"Hey, look at that hardon! Old Mr. Hansen's getting turned on!" Melody laughed as he approached them.
"He probably hasn't had anything good since the last time we took care of him," Cynthia said arrogantly.
Tom sat down and stared at the nude nymphets. He just prayed that they were capable of being serious about something on this giddy evening.
It meant everything. It meant Tom's career, and their careers.
He pulled them down alongside him and told them his plan.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Don't just stand there with a hardon!" Cynthia called merrily from the middle of the pool. "Take a swim and work it oft" Tom blushed as several swimmers looked his way and laughed. He ran quickly to the pool's edge, his hard cock flopping as he went, and dove in.
Only Melody remained dry; she perched beautifully naked at poolside, laughing at Tom. But Jerry York was sneaking up behind her to take care of that.
He grabbed her firm white ass and tossed her into the pool. Melody yelped and flailed and splashed. Her big boobs rose in the water; Tom suspected they alone would keep her afloat.
Carla Langley walked over to York and fondly put her arm around him. Tom stared at her magnificent body, enjoying the way. her wet pubic hair dropped between her legs and splattered along her upper thighs. He watched the pair walk arm-in-arm to the poolside and sit down.
Cynthia swam over to the steps and then used her hands to propel herself up them until she reached York's feet.
"This really is a fun place you've got here, Mr. York," Cynthia remarked with a sincere smile. Tom realized she was already putting his plan into action.
Cynthia looked like a young nude goddess when she slowly stood up. Water dripped from her golden body and ran in little rivulets all over her, giving her an incredibly fresh glow and appeal. Her firm, pointed tits didn't jiggle at all as she sat down next to Jerry York.
Melody's boobs rose in the water and jutted out from her as she breast-stroked her way toward the trio. Tom purposely took his time in joining the movement. He let Melody reach York's feet before he swam over and slowly walked up .the steps.
"Guess your prick doesn't go for the water cure," Carla joked as he emerged. The remark surprised Tom, but then he realized she was merely playing the role York demanded of her. He glanced down at himself and realized he was still half-hard.
Carla's hand shot out and grabbed his dick. Her fingers were warm and exciting around his wet organ, and he instantly grew to full strength again. Whether she was role-playing or not, Tom enjoyed being toyed with by the Plaything of the Year.
Carla grabbed Tom's arm with her other hand and brought him to a sitting position in the water. Then she scooted down two steps to be alongside him.
The water slapped gently at Tom's balls and ass. His loins were right at water level, and he could feel the little waves run up his crack. The sensations sent excitement coursing through his dick, and it stiffened even further.
Carla gently caressed his rigid rod, running her hands up and down it reverently.
"This is a beautiful hardon you have," she said, her tone filled with admiration. Tom stared at the Plaything of the Year as she gently stroked his prick. He could hardly believe this was happening to him. The girl was stunning, absolutely beautiful, and she was nationally famous, a woman admired from afar by millions of men. And here she was, playing with his dick.
Carla suddenly swooped down and kissed his cock, covering the head with her lush mouth. Her lips were pursed around the bulbous red head and they gently nibbled at his meat; a genuine kiss was the only term Tom could mentally find to describe what she was doing.
Tom thrust his prick straight out and jammed it further into Carla's mouth. Her subtle sucking was too delicate for him to stand.
He pumped his pelvis until four inches of hot cock slid in and out of her rounded lips. Her mouth was deliciously moist and warm, and he could hardly stand the thrills she sent through him.
Carla's fingers cupped his balls tenderly and massaged them. Her delicate touch, combined with the easy slapping of the water on his scrotum, drove Tom wild.
He'd wanted to last longer, much longer.
He wanted the Plaything of the Year to suck him off at a leisurely pace.
But the excitement was too much for him.
"Take all of me in your mouth!" he grunted as he shoved his prick forward again.
She took all seven inches now, her lips hungrily gobbling at the root of his shaft. Tom was ablaze in a frenzy of passion.
She munched eagerly on his stiff prick as it swelled and burst inside her mouth. Tom could feel the end of his penis press against the back of her throat, could feel his semen squirt against the delicate tissue there and spill back onto him.
"Geezzz--us!" he groaned as he shot his load straight into her warm mouth.
She rocked her head back and forth over his throbbing rod, gobbling all his come in expert gliding motions. Her tongue wrapped itself around the pole as she pumped, and she licked away all the liquid evidence of his climax.
Carla let his cock slide from her mouth as Tom slumped back against the steps. She smiled at him fondly, and continued to massage his balls She was bringing him down as slowly as she could.
As Tom fell back against the steps in exhaustion, he glanced up and saw two hands dancing along Jerry York's inner thighs. Melody and Cynthia each had an arm across his shoulders, and each had a hand playing perilously close to his loins. York just sat there stoically.
"Would you girls like to partake of some of that meat now?" York asked in a stilted manner as he nodded at Tom.
"I want some good cock," Melody whispered in his ear, "but Tom Hansen doesn't have what I want."
"I want some of whatever Melody gets," Cynthia said petulantly. "I'm not going to be left out."
"Can't we go upstairs? To someplace private?" Melody's voice was throaty with passion as she flicked her tongue inside York's ear.
Tom saw York's jaw tremble slightly, and realized he was nonplussed. Jerry York hadn't orchestrated this tune; it was being played on its own. Two nude nymphets were practically begging him for sex.
"The girls want to go upstairs for a bit," York announced. "Let's head on up."
Many eyes followed the naked bodies that filed behind Jerry York as he walked along poolside. Tom's red and swollen dick flopped helplessly against the sides of his thighs as he walked. He watched the girls in front of him, and noticed that while Melody's tits plopped up and down as she moved, Carla's swayed heavily from side to side. Melody's jutted outward further, but Carla's were much more rounded and meaty. It occurred to him that he hadn't had a chance to suck on those world-famous globes, and he made up his mind to try once they got upstairs.
Melody and Cynthia stepped alongside York as he led them through a kitchen to a back staircase, and each put an arm around him. Tom reached for Carla Langley's hand as they walked up the stairs behind the trio, and she squeezed his fingers fondly as they intertwined.
"This way," York said when they arrived at the top of the stairs. It was the first thing he uttered since leaving poolside, and Tom anxiously hoped that the two teens were preoccupying his thoughts.
They walked a good one hundred feet down a hallway covered with a luxurious white shag before York finally stopped. He opened a door and the group stepped inside.
The room was huge--at least five times larger than the average bedroom. Soft gold carpet blended perfectly with green-and-gold flecked wallpaper. A large bed adorned with a gold satin comforter lay at the far end of the room. The wall to its right was decorated with rectangular antiqued mirrors; dim golden ceiling lamps bathed the room in subtle light.
"This is really beautiful," Melody said as she wrapped her arms around York's neck. "But, it's just what I would expect from such a beautiful man."
Before York could reply, Melody stood on tip-toe and brushed his lips with her own. She kissed him lightly, tenderly. Her big boobs fell gently against his chest and flattened as she held herself close to him. A bulge suddenly appeared in York's bathing suit.
If it weren't for the girl being nude and the hardon stretching the man's bathing suit, the pair would have looked like the stars in a 1940's movie ad. They remained passionately entwined in each other's arms for some time, gently lip-kissing. They seemed more concerned with affection than sexual desire.
York finally broke the embrace.
"Maybe we can watch these two go at it one more time," he grinned, nodding at Tom and Carla Langley.
Ignoring the pressure of the hardon pressing against her stomach, Melody gazed dreadily into York's eyes.
"I don't want to watch anybody," she said huskily. "I just want you."
"We both want you," Cynthia whispered as she rubbed York's ribcage.
Tom sensed it was time to withdraw. He took Carla's hand and slowly led her to the far corner of the room. He sat down on the lush carpet and positioned her in front of him.
York's stiff prick poked at the front of his blue bathing trunks as the girls led him over to the bed. Tom noticed that the protrusion was surprisingly small; he wondered if York were fully erect.
"I really envy Carla," Melody said as she sat York down on the bed and ran her hands over his chest. "She's so lucky to have a handsome, mature man like you. But she has you all the time. Tonight, just for one night, I'd like to have you. May I?"
"Why... certainly," York replied, his ego even more excited than his dick. His eyes were dancing nervously and his face was flushed.
Melody took York's hands and brought him to a standing position. Cynthia, like Tom, decided that things were going so well she wasn't necessary. She softly stepped away from the twosome and sat down alongside Carla and Tom.
"I want to kiss you," Melody said huskily as he sat down on the bed again, her face just inches from York's midriff. "I want to kiss you all over."
She withdrew her hands from York's. She curled one around his back and used the other to draw him down to her.
She planted a long, sucking kiss on his neck. York placed his hands on her shoulders for support; he was visibly trembling.
Melody let her tongue slide leisurely down his neck. Then she lapped at his chest until she reached his left nipple. She began to suck on it hungrily.
"Melody, I don't think I can take this," York groaned.
"You'll take it," she said with finality, "because I want you to take it. And because I want to take you. All of you."
Melody's tongue left York's nipple and slithered along his rib cage. Then she licked her way down to his belly button. She inserted her tongue inside it and moved around in tantalizingly slow circles.
She slid her fingers into his bathing suit and, still licking eagerly at his belly button, slipped the trunks down to his knees. Then she drew back to look at him.
"What a wonderful cock," Melody said simply as she stared at His prick was only four inches long.
"It's beautiful," Melody continued as her hands grasped York's buttocks. "Absolutely beautiful. It's got such character. Just like you, Mr. York," she said looking up past the rigid little organ and into his eyes.
York was completely at a loss; he didn't know what to do or say. He decided to let the beautiful teenager take the lead.
"Please turn," Melody said. "I want to see all your cock. As much of it as I can. Again and again."
As York turned sideways, his profile and his hardon were reflected in the angular mirrors on the wall. They were positioned to reflect an infinite number of times, and it was quickly apparent what she meant by "again and again."
They both gazed at a thousand teenage faces smiling at a thousand hardons.
"See?" Melody asked softly. "Look at your dick. It's so beautiful." They stared at the mirrors for some time.
"I'm a virgin, you know," Melody finally said.
"What?!"
"I'm a virgin. And before tonight, I'd only seen one man's thing--Tom's. But I didn't like it. It was big and ugly. But yours is nice and cute."
"Let's have your body free," she murmured. "Completely free."
Melody pushed the bathing suit down from his knees to his feet. York stepped out of it as if in a trance.
"Are you really a virgin?" he asked incredulously.
Melody spun him around so that his dick was pointing straight into her face. She gazed at it intently as she whispered her reply.
"I am. And this hard meat you have is what I've been saving myself for. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. And it's mine, all mine."
Melody's fingers fell gently on the stiff dick, and she stroked it reverently.
"I want all of you," she purred, talking directly at the hard dick. Her thick red lips were scant inches from the rigid organ. "You're so beautiful I want everything you can offer me."
Melody moved forward slowly, barely brushing his cock with her lush mouth on her way to his inner thigh. She planted her lips just below his scrotum and gave him a wet, sucking kiss while she continued to stroke his rod.
"I can hardly believe," she panted, "that your wonderful cock is so close to me. It's the greatest thing that's ever happened to me." She kissed him furiously up and down his thigh, and then drew her head back.
"I've just got to have your cock in my mouth," she said urgently.
Melody slid her lush red lips over his prick. She lingered at the head, making gentle sucking movements with her lips, bathing it in her warmth and moistness. York's eyes were wide with excitement when she removed the organ from her mouth and looked up at him to speak.
"I want all of your cock," she repeated earnestly. "Everything it has to give."
Melody opened her mouth wide and slowly slid it down the length of his shaft. She gobbled right up to the base of the organ, and then her lips curled out to suck the soft skin surrounding the cockroot.
"My God!" York groaned. His back muscles were straining, and his legs had gone rubbery. He felt like he was going to collapse.
"I want you to come in my mouth, Jerry," Melody pleaded, mumbling over the shaft between her lips. The sound waves traveled along the hard rod and down to his prostrate. He shut his eyes and grimaced.
Melody's head bobbed rapidly up and down his prick, lubricating it profusely. Then she suddenly came to a stop while her lips were nestled in his pubic hair. The entire organ lay in her mouth, bathing in her saliva.
She twirled her thick tongue under the dorsal side of the hardon and rippled it around the shaft, going round and round to create a swirling, fleshy cylinder. Beads of sweat appeared on York's brow as he luxuriated in the best blow job he'd ever had.
"Come," Melody mumbled with her mouth full of cock. "Come my love. Shoot in my mouth. Be the first one to fill me with scum!"
York shoved his dick forward, and Melody stayed with him. She tightened her grip on his ass and helped him press into her face until he felt the inflamed head of his shaft touch the soft flesh at the top of her throat.
And that did it.
"AAAAEEEE!!!!"
His scream was primeval as he poured his semen into Melody's mouth. His sperm ripped away from him in an agonized combination of pleasure and pain, an experience so incredible that it became spiritual for him. This is how the soul tears itself away from the body, he thought. With sweet pain. Unbearable, sweet pain.
Melody's arms stayed tightly clasped around his ass. She'd felt his warm come squirt inside her throat, and knew he wanted to collapse on the bed. But she wanted to cradle his dick in her mouth as long as she could. She wanted him to remember this night for the rest of his life.
"Melody, Melody," York moaned, running his hands over the redhead's shoulders. "Melody, you're wonderful!"
She was still slurping on his subsiding cock, and he couldn't bear the intensity of the feeling. He lurched backward to pull his limp little prick from her mouth.
"Don't take your dick away," Melody pleaded. "It looks so red and swollen that I know it needs to be soothed. Please, let me give it a warm place to rest!"
Melody's bright red twat glistened in the dim light as she stood up and dramatically flung herself back on the bed.
She spread her lush white legs wide apart and held her arms in the air, inviting York's embrace.
"I'm a virgin, and I want you to fuck me," she said solemnly. "Your wonderful dick will feel warm and comfortable inside me. Please put it in!"
York just stared at the pleading nude teenager. It had been years since he was good for more than one orgasm in an evening--and he was astonished to feel his prick pumping full with blood again.
The redhead was offering her cherry to him, and he couldn't believe it was happening. She was begging him to bust her wide open, to be the first to slide into the tightness of her virgin cunt, to be the first to give her the thrill of a hot cock thrusting away.
York climbed on the bed. His four-inch dick was stiff as a board. He held it in two fingers, and slowly leaned forward to enter the beautiful young redhead.
Her cherry was strong, and a whimper of pain escaped her as she pressed the head of his shaft against the membrane.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked softly.
"No. I want to be fucked," Melody replied, her immense torso pumping up and down as her entire system raced with excitement.
He plunged his stiff rod forward and it pierced her cherry., He could feel it tear, he could feel himself slide into her for an inch.
"You're in me now," she confirmed, panting. "Your cock is inside me. Give me more, please!"
He thrust again and penetrated another inch up the tight canal. It was like being inside a wet, spongy clamp, and he'd never known anything so exquisite. Melody had wrapped her arms around him, and was flicking her thick tongue into his ear.
"Give me more dick," she whispered in hot little breaths.
As York thrust forward in response, Carla turned to look at Tom. Tears of gratitude were streaming down her face. His plan had worked, and it opened up the possibility of a whole new life for her. For the first time in years, Jerry York had been man enough to screw a woman on his own. He'd been made to feel loved and appreciated, and he'd responded with a sterling sexual performance.
Tom saw Carla's shapely ass rise up in the dim light. She was standing on her tip-toes and hunching forward.
The Plaything of the Year was offering herself to him dog-style, in gratitude for what he'd done. His seven-inch cock had grown stiff watching the action on the circular bed, and he couldn't help feeling that Carla Langley was going to be amply rewarded for her gesture.
She was going to have a man-sized peter rammed up that world-famous pussy of hers, and it ought to be quite a treat after all the time she'd spent on Jerry York's undersized little instrument.
He spread his legs wide apart so his hard prick stood straight up in the air. He pushed it forward to give Carla a better angle to descent on.
Her pussy slid over him like a wet rubber glove. Her firm cheeks rested on the tops of his thighs; she had taken all seven inches in one skillful move.
"Feel good?" she asked simply.
"Feels great," Tom replied.
"Hold my tits," Carla whispered.
Tom wrapped his hands around the enormously wide globes which had attracted so much attention in Lance. His fingers played over their tips, teasing the large, bumpy nipples which had excited millions of men.
Carla's skilled pussy began to weave small circles around Tom's excited cock. Her ass-flesh slapped against him as she moved, giving him the sensation that he was being fucked all over his loins and legs.
He felt Cynthia's arm drape over his shoulders, and turned to catch her fond smile and knowing wink. He looked over at the bed again to see York and Melody still entwined, their asses moving slowly together, their mouths breathing words of endearment to each other.
Carla's pussy moved faster now, and moans of passion began to escape from her. They were discreet moans-so York wouldn't hear, but she was unable to totally contain her excitement.
"I'm coming," she groaned, twisting around to look at Tom, her expression one of astonishment at the speed with which he'd brought her to gratification.
Their eyes stayed fastened to each other as Tom quickened his stroke. He rammed his dick up her wet pussy hard, very hard, giving her all he could. He watched her face flush, watched her pleading, grateful look as he rammed it to her and made her come.
Tom shot his load into the Plaything of the Year and slumped back against the wall.
It had been a hell of a party.
CHAPTER NINE
Tom Hansen sank into the plush leather chair alongside Jerry York's desk with a self-satisfied feeling.
This is where I belong, he thought. At the top. In every way.
He'd been awakened by an early call from a York assistant, who said York wanted to meet him at 7:00. Tom couldn't believe the hour. His own mind was foggy with the need for rest, but York was legendary for needing only four hours sleep a night--and for assuming that was all everybody else needed.
"Morning, Tom," York said pleasantly as he strode into the office with folders tucked under his arm. He was freshly showered and shaved, and the room filled with the odor of expensive cologne as he entered.
"Good morning, Jerry," Tom said confidently.
And he had every reason to be confident. He'd brought York the thrill of his life last night, and he in effect "owned" Melody. In addition, he had Carla Langley solidly in his corner. If York wanted more of Melody, he'd have to deal through Tom. If he didn't, if his new-found normalcy was enough to make him settle down with Carla, then he had her support going for him. Either way, he had it made.
York flipped open a folder and scanned some photos.
"I like these shots yet. did of the girls," he said pleasantly. "You have talent."
The nude teenagers have more talent than I do, Tom admitted to himself. But he accepted the compliment; there was no doubt the shots were good.
"We want these, of course. Payment was mentioned in our letter. Is it satisfactory?"
"It's the going rate," Tom shrugged, not wanting to appear over enthused. "It's satisfactory."
"Well," York said dramatically as he stood up, "Now we have to talk about the future.
"I like your work, Tom," he said as he walked around the desk. 'I think there could be a place for you here--an important place. Of course, we'd like to feature your girls in a few more spreads if this one gets the reaction I think it will. But we'll have to move on from there."
Tom hung on each word. York seemed about to offer him a genuinely important position of some sort. The fact that he got it by being a pimp was of little importance.
"I need new blood, Tom. I'm faced with more competition than I've had in my ten years in business.
"Things are wide open now," York said, a concerned look etched on his face. "If you own a men's magazine today, it no longer takes a massive legal staff to defend yourself against suits in every hamlet in the country, the way we had to in the early days.
"No," York shook his head, "anybody can do it now. Anybody can slap together any damn magazine, and it'll be sold everyplace - drug-stores, all-nighters, supermarkets. And it's hurting us--hurting us badly, Tom."
York was standing with his back to Tom, staring at the bound volumes of Lance which covered the entire east wall of his office. He ran his hand nervously over the back of his neck.
"Let me give you an example," he said as he returned to his desk. He picked up another folder, produced a magazine and handed it to Tom.
"I got this the other day, from a friend--and thank God I still have friends. He pirated it from a printing plant and flew in with it Wednesday. I think the thing hit the stands today."
Tom glanced at the first edition of Hard Times. The cover was a montage of smiling nude men, each strategically cropped just below the belly button. There were still some limitations on what you could do with a cover, Tom thought, amused at the hypocrisy involved.
He flipped the magazine open, skipped over a few pages of ads, and found the editorial page. He read it with the scornful smirk he assumed Jerry York wanted to see.
What you have in your hands, dear "lady," is a first in many ways. It's the first edition of the first publication edited and published solely by women for women. And it's the first magazine that will give the American woman exactly what she wants to see.
For centuries, the natural sexual urges of women have been cruelly suppressed by men. Men have been fearful they could not compete with the infinite sexual and orgasmic capacity of the female. And indeed, they cannot: the male's puny abilities--a few moments of frenzied activity, a rushed climax, passing out into sleep--can hardly match the female's capacity to enjoy herself for hours.
From time immemorial a handful of unoppressed women have demonstrated our superiority by taking on a dozen or more men in a single bout. Invariably, the girls wear them out, despite being overwhelmingly outnumbered.
And what do men do to explain this phenomenon? The lower classes , call the session a "gang bang" and scorn the woman as a "whore." Learned psychiatrists speak of "Nymphomania" and "an abnormal need to feel loved."
But the truth is simple. This handful of sisters merely demonstrated what every woman is capable of. Men sense this and try to cage their women with "standards." But the "standards" exist only to maintain male egos, and to keep both sexes from recognizing the truth: when it comes to passion, men are far and away the "weaker sex."
At Hard Times, we hope to sweep away all the old myths, and to help women come into' their own. We exist because we hold in contempt the money-hungry men who feed on our sexual starvation by showing us sterile stereotypes with limp penises. Their magazines sell--but only because of our desperation.
Hard Times will show you men with cocks grown hard under the stimulation of one of your sisters--women who are housewives, secretaries, teachers--women who want to break down the barriers for all of us. The first issue features your publisher, who had more fun--and learned more about herself--putting this magazine together than she's had in her entire life.
I bill myself as the Queen of Cock. But you too can be a Queen--in your home, in your town, and even in our magazine. Volunteer to be a model for us, or send us your own photos.
We want to do everything we can to help you realize your full potential as a women.
Sincerely, Linda Hansen Queen of Cock Tom looked up into Jerry York's twinkling eyes. "I assume," he quipped, "it's not a relative."
"No. No, it's not," Tom laughed. "Just a coincidence " Tom laughed even louder inside at the incredible irony of the publisher's name. It was the same as his hung-up, freaked-out, frigid wife's--the woman he was going to dump as soon as he got home.
Life was too short to spend in constant sexual frustration, Tom Hansen had decided last night. He belonged in the libertine atmosphere of Lance people, not in the stifled one created by his wife.
Lance people fucked when they felt like it, not when it was convenient with their baby's schedule, their mother's schedule and their social schedule. And spontaneity was much more Tom's style. Linda could take her baby and her mother to her lawyer and she could legally kiss good-bye the hardons she found such a nuisance.
Tom flipped through the pages of the magazine, thinking that it must have been a rush job. The production was down-right sloppy, with some columns visibly slanted, and there was a blurry color mix in many of the ads.
Suddenly Tom saw a short man with a tremendous cock smiling in a photo layout. Tom gulped. The damn snake must have been eight inches long just hanging there limp. A cock like that must send York directly to the psychiatrist's couch, he thought.
The next page showed the prick in its erect state, and that was even more impressive. The hard cock was damn near a foot long, according to Tom's estimate. He shook his head, surprised at seeing that kind of photo in a mass-distribution magazine. For the first time, he made the connection with the Hard Times title.
The centerfold was on the next page, and Tom turned the magazine to unfold it.
What he saw nearly caused him to drop dead, right there in Jerry York's plush leather chair.
The twelve-inch cock was hard again, but this time a young woman sat on the edge of a bed smiling at it. Her hand was wrapped around the stem of the huge pole, leaving as much cock visible over the end of her fist as Tom possessed entirely.
The smiling young woman was fully clothed.
The smiling young woman was his wife.
The magazine dropped at Tom Hansen's feet as he bolted for the door.
CHAPTER TEN
She gazed intently at his fly, her dark eyes dancing with anticipation.
"Can't wait to see what you've got under there," she smiled seductively.
The object of her attention was tall, handsome--and plainly embarrassed.
"I'll change now," he mumbled. "See you in a few minutes."
"And I'll see you in a few minutes!" Linda quipped.
A satisfied smile crossed Linda Hansen's face as she put her hand to her brow to shield herself from the sun. She gazed out across the bow of the yacht, and let ,herself be mesmerized by the gentle undulations of the blue-green ocean. It was a stunningly beautiful day, and her mood matched it.
Things were going better than she ever dreamed. Hard ,Times had been on the stands less than 48 hours and the initial printing--250,000 copies--was nearly sold out. The printers were furiously gearing up to churn out another quarter million.
News of the success had reached advertisers quickly. Rosalie was receiving calls--on the week-end no less--from all across the country. Account executives were begging for space in the next issue, and for long-term contracts.
Jennifer Hodgkins had sketched out the format for a second issue while the first was on the presses, but Linda hadn't wanted to invest in any photo layouts until results were in on the first magazine. When the response proved so overwhelming, Linda found herself immediately making plans for the feature spread in the second issue.
Her approach was different this time. She had more money, more backing now. She rented a luxurious yacht for the day merely on her signature. And when she called the modeling agency for three men she was flooded with dozens of applicants. She scanned through the portfolios and picked the most handsome men, the ones who simply turned her on the most.
Hard cocks weren't part of their portfolios, of course. But Linda felt blind selection was the fairest way to do things. Other magazines deliberately picked well-hung studs, but that wasn't the way life worked.
No woman could tell what kind of prick she was getting until the moment she bedded a man. Hard Times' models would be selected in just the same way--picked for other merits, with the hope that the cock would be pleasing too. The result in the magazine would be a representative selection of size and shape.
Stiff erections danced in Linda's imagination. She could hardly believe how much she'd changed, and how eagerly she looked forward to the parade of male nudity about to unfold before her. Her whole attitude toward this session was different; she wasn't scared" this time. This time, she was sure of herself, and knew exactly what she wanted. And what she wanted was stiff dick. She wanted to see it, to hold it, to photograph it.
And she wanted cock sliding in and out of her cunt, rubbing against her clit, setting off a million tiny explosions inside her body as only hard cock could do.
Linda Hansen had fulfilled the goal outlined in the editorial Jennifer wrote for her. She'd become a truly liberated woman, one fully aware of her infinite sexual potential.
That potential is going to be satisfied this afternoon, Linda thought excitedly. On this yacht, and by those three men inside the cabin undressing. Rosalie Gomez, clad in a pink bikini which showed much of her ample cleavage, came up from below and interrupted Linda's reverie. Rosalie was of Mexican-American descent, and her skin was darkly bronzed without any previous exposure to the sun. Linda needed to coat herself with oil to achieve the same effect, and she envied Rosalie's natural tan.
"Where are the men?" Rosalie asked in a shaky voice.
"Nervous?" Linda smiled sympathetically.
"Shouldn't I be?" Rosalie shrugged. "Besides, I still don't understand why you want me. You've got two female models coming."
"I told you, Rosalie--we want our readers to identify with the magazine's staff. We want them to know we're not a bunch of phonies. We want to show them all of us--even our advertising manager--really believe what we say."
"Three hardons belonging to three perfect strangers will be presented to me in a few minutes," Rosalie laughed, "and you want me to worry about editorial philosophy?"
"Your nerves are just a result of your conditioning, Rose," Linda said sincerely. "You have to escape your conditioning."
"Yeah, but how do you escape twenty-seven years of it?"
"Do you want to play with those cocks or not?" Linda asked abruptly.
"Well, I... "
"Yes or no. Stiff dicks or not--which is it?"
"Well... it's yes, I guess."
"Why?"
"Because... because I'd like to, that's all," Rosalie shrugged.
"See? It's that simple to escape conditioning. You admit to yourself and others the way you really feel about things. You don't hide by reacting the way you're `supposed` to."
"It's a hell of a change," Rosalie admitted, shaking her head. Her hair was deep black, and cut in a short style.
"Do you want to fuck those men?" Linda pursued.
"I don't know. I honestly don't know."
"Well, isn't playing with all that meat going to turn you on?"
"Probably. But I'm not supposed to admit that, Linda. `Nice girls' just don't own up to feelings like that, no matter how strong they are." Rosalie's black eyes gazed at the seascape, and she spoke slowly to illustrate her point.
"I remember my wedding night. I was a virgin. I was lying in the bed, waiting for my husband.
"I saw this big stiff thing stretching his underwear. I was only twenty years old, and I'd never seen a penis in my life. I was dying to look at it, to hold it, to love it.
"But he practically hid his cock from me. He crouched low and went over to turn off the light. We made love in the dark, quick love. He didn't want to offend the `sensibilities' I was supposed to have as a virgin bride.
"His prick was all I could think about after he fell asleep. Finally, in the middle of the night, I couldn't stand it any more.
"I took the blankets off his cock after I turned on the lights. His prick was lying there curled and peaceful, like a sleeping snake.
"I was astonished at how big the dick was. I bent down to study it closely, picking it up in my hands and playing with it. He was only twenty himself, and even in his sleep he got a hardon right away.
"I was playing with his hard cock, enjoying myself tremendously. It seemed that the more I rubbed it, the bigger and thicker and harder it got. I rubbed it up and down with both hands, and he started moaning in his sleep."
Rosalie paused, leaning back against the deck railing and taking long, deep breaths. It was the first time she'd shared this experience with anyone.
"He must have had a big prick if you could fit both hands around it," Linda commented enviously.
"Oh, he did. His dick must have been nine inches or so, and it was very thick. I asked him once if I could measure it, but he wouldn't let me. He said I was being ridiculous.
"Anyway, I was pumping up and down on his hardon when the white stuff came shooting out of it. It went all over my arms and hands, and some of it hit me in the face. At first I was scared, but then figured out what it was.
"I scraped his come off my cheek, put some on my index finger, and then sucked it off. It tasted bitter at first, but the more I swallowed the better it got. Eating it really turned me on, so I kept going.
"I ate all the come I could find--off my fingers, off my arms, everywhere. I even wiped the head of his dick clean and ate that. It was great. I slept peacefully after that."
Linda realized Rosalie was meeting a long-standing need by opening up to someone. She was fulfilling a psychological necessity, a mental purging she had to undergo before she could come to terms with herself--and before she could participate in the modeling session.
"It sounds like your sexual instincts are extremely strong, Rosalie," Linda commented sympathetically.
"I guess they are," she shrugged. Her right shoulder strap fell across her arm, leaving her tit halfway exposed. "But life is filled with strange ironies, you know."
"What do you mean?"
"A year later I came home sick from work one morning, and found him in bed with a cheap slut. A whore. She demanded her twenty dollars before she would leave.
"I would have done anything for him. I'd have sucked his cock in the halls of Congress," Rosalie laughed emptily. "But he had preconceived notions about what kind of woman it was all right to have fun with. And it destroyed our marriage."
"How've you been since? With men, I mean?"
"Afraid to let loose, I guess," Rosalie sighed. "You're right; women are just conditioned. In my subconscious, I'm afraid if I ever show a man just how deep my sexual needs are, he'll cast me off in favor of some cheap whore again."
Linda was at a loss for words. She knew she should supply Rosalie with some comfort and understanding, but she couldn't find anything to match the depth of Rosalie's outpouring. Fortunately, the three models filed out of the cabin just at that moment, and Linda decided to focus Rosalie's attention on something else.
"Come on over here, you guys!" Linda called. "Let's get this show on the road!"
Linda's aggressive manner was entirely the opposite of her first session. The men, all clad in tight bathing suits, seemed slightly intimidated; they smiled and glanced nervously at each other as they ambled over to Linda.
"Okay, I think you know what this session is all about, don't you? Half of America does, so I suspect you do too. Boys, I want you to meet Rosalie Gomez, our advertising director."
The models nodded and smiled at Rosalie, faint traces of embarrassment in their expressions. Finally, a sandy-haired young man of medium height spoke up.
"We're going to be shooting for Hard Times, right? The ladies' magazine that shows it like it is?"
"You've got it, friend. You're Carl, aren't you?" The model nodded affirmatively, and introduced the young women to Charlie and Gil, his two companions.
"Well, let's begin," Linda said confidently. "Gil, why don't you go stand up there, next to the mast. It's a good phallic symbol!"
Gil, the tall young man whom Linda had teased when he came on board, stepped over to the mast and leaned on it casually while Linda focused her camera. She took a few throw-away shots to get the feel of the scene.
"Okay, we're set now. Go strip his trunks off, Rosalie," she commanded.
Gil stared at the tops of Rosalie's tanned breasts as she seductively strolled toward him. He felt himself growing excited beneath his trunks.
"You worship cock, Rosalie," Linda said, trying to put her in the right frame of mind. "And you worship the mere attached to the cocks. Get down on your knees to remove his trunks!"
Rosalie's eyes stared at Gil's groin as she kneeled before him. Her movements were slow and reverent.
She slipped her fingers into the waistband of his trunks and tugged. Gil was staring down hungrily at her, drinking in her lush lips and big brown eyes. Her soft touch at his waist excited him.
His cock grew to full mast and strained to be free of the garment confining it. The bulge was just inches from Rosalie's beautiful face. She pulled down gently until the suit revealed his pubic hair and snagged on his hardon.
"I don't know if I can get past this big prick," Rosalie said with a smile. She turned to face the camera and Linda snapped away.
"Sure you can, honey," Linda encouraged. "That hard cock is something you're dying to see."
Rosalie placed her hands at the front of the waistband and yanked it straight out over Gil's hardon. She allowed it to snap back, and then pulled the trunks down past his scrotum to his ankles. Gil stepped out of them and placed his hands on his hips.
His hard prick jutted seven full inches from his body, and Rosalie's eyes widened with excitement as she stared at it. She reached up and gently cradled it in her fingers. Then she ran one hand along the underside, holding the organ steady by grasping the head with her other hand. She was very pleased with what she held.
"This is a sturdy prick," she observed with a smile. "A fine specimen."
Linda hopped all around the pair, taking photos from every angle. She concentrated on close-ups of Rosalie's beaming face as it hovered next to Gil's erection. The sight of the hard tool in her viewfinder sent the love juices flowing in Linda's cunt.
"Let's see what you think of some other specimens," Linda said merrily. "Gil, put your trunks back on--Carl, you come on over now."
A puzzled look on his face, Gil bent down and picked up his bathing suit.
"But what am I supposed to do about this hard on?" Gil asked as he stepped toward Linda, the thick organ slapping against his thighs as he walked.
"Hold on to it," Linda laughed. "We'll need it later."
Carl had taken his place alongside the mast, and he and Rosalie looked to Linda for direction.
"Just pull down his trunks, Rosalie," Linda called. "Do the same things you did with Gil. Just remember the opportunity you have--you're going to see another cock, and you're going to make it good and had."
Rosalie smiled directly at Carl's groin and placed her fingers inside his bathing suit. There was no bulge there--just the faint outline of his loins.
Rosalie stripped Carl's trunks off in one flowing motion. She got them down to his ankles and helped him step out of them.
She looked up at his cock. It was only slightly tumescent.
"Let's make this thing hard," Rosalie said seductively as she reached out and cupped his balls. She cradled the wrinkled sac in her hands and tenderly massaged it.
"Your prick is going up and I'm not even touching it!" Rosalie smiled.
Carl's cock was indeed rapidly pumping up; like a balloon gradually filling with air. Rosalie continued her massage of his testicles, cooing at them while she worked.
"What soft little things you have," she said. "The skin is so tender in my hands. I'll be very careful with them. I know how delicate they are, and I know what wonderful fluid they make."
Carl's tool rose to full length under Rosalie's attention. It was less than an average cock--about five inches long--but the smile on Rosalie's face indicated she was more pleased with it than she was with Gil's much larger organ.
Linda tripped the shutter again and again, scooting around to get different angles of the action. She was excited because she'd captured the gradual build-up of Carl's erection.
"That's enough Carl," Linda said as she stood up. "Charlie, it's your turn now."
"Hey--I didn't get to play with Carl's dick," Rosalie said.
"You'll have to wait, honey. Charlie, get up there and let's go through the same routine."
Charlie adopted several poses using the mast as a prop. Rosalie waited patiently on her knees until Linda gave the command.
"Off with his trunks, Rose."
Rosalie eagerly reached for Charlie's bathing suit. She was getting into the swing of things now; her clit was stiffening beneath her bikini, and she was anxious to see Charlie's genitals.
The big bulge in his trunks indicated he was ready for action too. He smiled down at Rosalie as she eagerly lifted his suit over his hardon. Her lush lips were wet with saliva, and Charlie resisted the temptation to shove his hardon into her warm mouth.
His fully erect cock sprang free as Rosalie removed the suit. She reached up and ran her hands along it reverently.
"This is the biggest prick in the bunch," she commented. "Must be eight inches long. And it's thick as my wrist!"
"I've seen bigger," Linda said smugly as she snapped away with the camera.
"The important thing isn't size--it's hardness. Is it hard, Rosalie?" She was chattering her directions now, trying to coax Rosalie into a different mood, hoping to get a departure from her reactions to the previous two models.
Rosalie squeezed Charlie's thick piece of meat.
"It's hard," she confirmed. "But the skin outside is soft and tender. It's a very nice prick."
Pre-seminal fluid oozed from the end of Charlie's dick. He was struggling with himself; he knew he was merely a paid model who had to treat this assignment like any other. He couldn't ram his rod down this young woman's throat unless he was told to, or he'd damage his career.
Linda moved in for a close-up of the hard cock next to Rosalie's mouth. It was a good view, and she was satisfied with his part of the session.
"Okay, that's it," she said. "Put your trunks on, Charlie."
"You've got to be kidding," he protested. "We're done?"
"Not by a long shot. I've got a surprise for you. Girls!" Linda was shouting toward the cabin. "Girls, you can come out now!"
Two curvaceous forms appeared from the cabin.
One was a pert blond whose tits bounced like melons on a cart as she ran giggling from the cabin. She was under five feet tall, and had a cute pug nose and sparkling blue eyes. She had the fresh glow of a high school cheerleader.
Her friend was a stacked brunette with long, lithe legs. She was more reserved; she smiled demurely as she followed the blonde up to the group.
"Fellas, this is Anne and Darlene," Linda said. "Girls, I want you to meet Gil, Charlie and Carl."
The bikini-clad young women extended their arms and shook hands with the young men. Smiles were exchanged all around.
Linda glanced at the growing bulge in Gil's bathing suit.
"Looks like you're really happy to meet these girls," Linda quipped, nodding at his crotch.
"He's getting stiff already, Darlene--look at his bathing suit!" Ann giggled as she pointed at the bulge inside Gil's trunks; Darlene just smiled discreetly.
"Now I want you all to listen," Linda said, commanding the group's attention.
"This is the feature spread for the next issue. It'll be called `Discovery', and the idea behind it is simple.
"Three aggressive women seduce three young men. They pull their bathing suits off, find the cocks they like best, and then it's playtime.
"Now the idea is that Rosalie is the shy, virgin type, so I shot Rosalie by herself. But Ann and Darlene are out for all the fun they can get, and they work as a pair--an excited pair. If everybody's got that straight, we'll get going--Gil, go stand up on the deck and get ready."
Gil's hard prick threatened to rip apart his bathing suit as he walked. Ann and Darlene followed him and sat at his feet when he reached the deck.
"Now smile at each other, ladies," Linda chattered as she approached the trio with her camera. "You're talking excitedly about Gil.
"You're talking about his cock, and what it will be like. You're wondering how big it is, and how much come it will shoot."
"You don't have to try to get us in the mood," Ann interjected. "That dick is already hard, and we want to take a look at it now!"
Each girl placed a hand inside Gil's trunks and pulled forward. His prick popped out.
"Wow!" Ann exclaimed as she grabbed his cock with her little hand. She pointed it toward her and bent to examine it.
She bobbed her blonde head all around the organ, studying it from every conceivable angle. Darlene looked over her shoulder, catching as many glimpses as she could.
Linda snapped a dozen shots, pleased at the contrast the bubbly Ann provided to Rosalie's sedate approach. She quickly felt she had enough for the layout, and she motioned Carl up to the deck to take Gil's place.
Carl stood before Ann and Darlene with his hands resting on his hips. They quickly ran their hands up his legs until they reached his crotch. Darlene probed gently at his loins.
"Looks like this cock needs a little stimulation," she declared.
The girl yanked down Carl's trunks and his peter dangled before them. Ann grabbed his balls and Darlene's long fingers cupped the flaccid little organ. She caressed it gently, her fingers tickling the underside, urging the lifeless member to flower. But nothing happened.
Linda peeked out behind her camera.
"Anything wrong?" she asked Carl.
"Shouldn't be," he replied ironically. "But I just don't feel sexy. I mean, this situation is too contrived. It doesn't turn me on."
Linda was furious. A limp dick could ruin the whole damn layout. She didn't know what to do.
She felt a reassuring pat on her arm, and watched surprised as Rosalie walked past her toward the deck. Her right shoulder strap was still off, and the tight bikini bottom revealed the curved lines of her ass.
Wordlessly, Rosalie knelt in front of Carl's prick and brushed the other girls aside. She smiled fondly up at him, and reached out to caress his scrotum. She massaged it tenderly, her fingers tickling the sensitive skin with the lightest possible touch.
It worked again. Carl's tool slowly began to rise under Rosalie's gentle ministrations. Her face was just inches from his loins, and his dick brushed across her nose as it pumped up to jut straight out from his body.
"What a nice man and a nice dick," Rosalie said sincerely.
Linda was feverishly snapping away with the camera, her anger replaced by excitement. The scene was perfect: one of the girls had found her man and her cock!
Rosalie rested her nose on the upper side of Carl's five-inch phallus. Her exhalations wafted on his prickskin and he shuddered with delight.
"That's an incredible feeling," he murmured, planting his hands in Rosalie's hair and running his fingers through it. "Just incredible."
Rosalie exhaled harder on his cock and it jerked upward in response. She brushed her upper lips along its side, tickling the hardon with the soft skin between nose and lips. This is an historical first, Carl thought; I'm being nuzzled off.
Rosalie's clit had grown hard as a little twig beneath her bikini bottom, and she could feel her love juices flowing. She felt wonderfully fond of this man Carl, and she was tremendously turned on by the stiff dick he'd produced just for her. She hated to risk turning him off by showing her eagerness--but she was unable to resist her desire to swallow him whole.
Her mouth opened wide and she swooped down over the red crown of Carl's cock, down over the shaft, all the way down to its root.
She'd swallowed his entire five inches in one loving gulp.
Rosalie's lips munched frantically on the stiff prick as she drew her mouth back to the head. She nibbled at his cock hungrily there, and then moved forward to swallow the entire organ again.
Carl's thighs trembled under the hot assault of Rosalie's hungry mouth. He felt like his pelvis was going to explode.
Her hands were still cradling his balls, tenderly caressing them, bringing the sperm inside to a boiling point. Carl knew he would come soon unless the beautiful young woman stopped.
He gently held her head and pulled his cock from her mouth.
"What can I do for you?" he asked sincerely. "You can fill my mouth with your come," Rosalie replied passionately.
She gobbled up his cock again, eating her way down to the root and then nibbling back to the head of the shaft. She squeezed gently on his testicles, and he shivered with the thrill it sent coursing through his body.
Rosalie's right hand worked its way up the crack of his ass, tickling him, probing around his bunghole. That was too much for Carl to take.
He shoved his cock deep into her mouth, back against her throat, and shot a wad of semen into her. His body was racked with spasms.
His hard dick jerked violently from her mouth and splattered another load all over her cheek. Rosalie's eyes drooped with passion as she anxiously followed the twitching organ.
She opened her mouth and lunged forward to capture his cock again. She slid her lips over the slippery organ and sucked it in. A final squirt of gism greeted her, falling on her tongue and dribbling into her throat.
Rosalie lapped up the slippery semen covering Carl's twitching organ. She was like a hungry cow at a salt block, her big tongue greedily ingesting every drop of sperm it could find.
Carl's swollen red prick gradually began to subside. Rosalie gave him a final kiss on the head of his pecker, and leaned back on her calves to look up at him.
"Like that?" she asked softly, her tenuous tone betraying her insecurity.
"I love it," Carl gasped, his torso heaving as his lungs pounded in an effort to recapture his spent oxygen.
Semen dribbled down from Rosalie's cheekbone to her jawline.
"Almost forgot," she said softly. "I didn't get to eat all your come."
She placed a hand on her cheek and brushed the sperm over to her mouth, shoving it in like ice cream. She wiped her face clean, swallowing every drop his throbbing cock had splattered on her.
Carl affectionately patted her on the head. She reached out and hugged him around his thighs, her cheek pressing against his withered dick and balls.
Linda was beside herself with excitement: she had captured new love on camera. The irresistible emotions Rosalie felt had been plainly etched in her face, and the photos would reveal them fully. She couldn't have dreamed of a better series of photos.
Ann and Darlene had watched Rosalie's hungry onslaught with awe. Linda was right about them. They were interested in fun alone, and they didn't comprehend the depth of the fierce, lonely passion they'd just witnessed. They were only twenty years old, and didn't yet know how severe life's bruises could be.
"What do you say, girls?" Charlie leered at them. "It's my turn to pose now."
Charlie's prick was visibly stiff through his bathing suit. Linda motioned the three to the other side of the boat; Rosalie and Carl's embrace begged for privacy.
When they reached the opposite deck, Ann and Darlene dropped to their knees and surveyed the bulge in Charlie's trunks. After the scene he'd just witnessed, Charlie was ready for action.
Ann put her tiny hand on his huge crotch while Linda began to take photos. She probed at it eagerly, tantalizing his stiff cock with her curious fingers.
"This prick is already stiff as a board," she declared. "Let's get it out of there!"
The girls quickly slipped the trunks past the hardon and off the anxious model. His pole jutted from him like a horizontal mast.
"It's all red and swollen, and I know it needs to be soothed," Ann cooed. "Can I please have it, Darlene?"
"It's bigger than Gil's" Darlene noted, nodding at the other model. Gil was surveying the scene impatiently, rubbing his hard cock anxiously.
"This weapon is nearly eight inches long," Darlene said. "The other one is only seven. Would you rather have Gil?"
"I'd like to see if I can get eight inches of cock in my little cunt," Ann giggled.
That was all Charlie could take. He swooped Ann up in his arms and carried her to the edge of the deck. He set her up against the railing and kneeled down to look at her.
A mixture of fear and pleasure showed in Ann's sparkling blue eyes. There was no doubt Charlie meant business.
Her bikini top had slipped and her pert little nipples peeked over it. Her tits were an innocent white tone, which contrasted nicely with the rest of her tanned torso.
Charlie suddenly reached out and ripped the top off, revealing her young bosom for all to see. Her tits were angular little tubes which poked sideways, puffy beige nipples pointed in opposite directions toward her arms.
"Your breasts are beautiful," Charlie declared, desire dripping in his voice.
"And your cock is beautiful," little Ann replied pleasantly. "Let me take my bottom off so we can make beautiful music together!"
Ann shimmied out of her suit and spread her legs for Charlie. Her pubis was sprinkled with golden hair, and her slit was visible beneath it. Her pelvis was as snow white as her bosom, and she looked like an innocent lamb awaiting the moment of truth.
Beads of sweat glistened on Charlie's forehead as he contemplated the naked young beauty before him. He was trying to figure out where and how to take her--but then he suddenly cast reason aside.
Charlie's rigid prick led the way as he lunged forward. Ann gasped and held her arms out to catch him.
His hard cock rammed its way into her tight little slit, and she yelled with pain. Only the bulbous head penetrated, so he backed off slightly to give himself room for another try.
He thrust forward and got three inches of his prick inside her. She opened up just slightly, her love juices working furiously to soothe the way.
Moans of delight came from Ann as he shoved a third time and got half his prick up her.
"That feels terrific," she shuddered. "Please give me all of it."
Her eyelids closed as he obliged. He drilled his way inside her like an oversized corkscrew, nearly ripping her apart as he went. Her tight pussy sent ripples of excitement through his big prick as he wriggled it inside her. It was so snug and set inside her he didn't want to slide in and out, didn't want to leave the delicious sensation of the fleshy clamp clinging to him.
He moved his prick around in little circles, like he was stirring a bowl of batter. The action made Ann feel like she was going to split wide open.
"God, it hurts," she moaned. "But it's good, so good."
Charlie felt like a great god visiting pain and pleasure on a helpless mortal. He quickened his movements and drove both of them wild as he moved round and round. He anchored himself by grabbing Ann's white ass, and turned himself into a rotary sex machine.
Ann began twisting her cunt in the opposite direction of Charlie's movements. She was panting heavily now, and her torso flushed with pre-orgasmic excitement. She held onto Charlie's shoulder for dear life and pumped away.
"I'm going to come!" she groaned, her voice tinged with surprise. "I'm going to come! Your cock is driving me wild!"
Charlie plunged forward, his gism rising like a tide inside him.
"YOU'RE WOMBING ME!" Ann's voice was a taut scream. "YOU'RE WOMBING ME!!"
She leaped off the railing and into Charlie's arms. The pair intertwined like a creature with two torsos and one pair of legs.
"FUCK ME GOOD!" she screamed, completely out of control.
Charlie poured his load inside her just as her own climax struck.
Ann's clit exploded in a hundred directions, sending sexual shock waves through her entire body. She squeezed Charlie so tightly he thought his ribs would snap under the pressure.
He filled her with sperm, awkwardly pumping while he held her in midair. He wanted desperately to let her down when he finished, but she clung to him like her body was made of suction cups.
A satisfied smile rested on Linda's face. Her own clit had stiffened long ago, and she know its tension would need to be relieved soon. But for the moment, she was content to survey the scene for final photo possibilities. She'd already taken dozens of shots she knew would be great, but they hid nothing at all; she'd have to decide later just how far Hard Times could go in its portrayal of honest sexual feeling.
She glanced once more at Charlie and Ann rocking in each other's arms and then turned her gaze to Darlene and Gil.
Darlene was straddling him as he lay on the deck, riding his stiff cock like a hobby horse. A smile beamed across her face, and her long tits bounced up and down as she rode. She held his face in her hands, and was incomplete control of their intercourse.
Linda looked over at the other side of the deck, and saw a reversal of the previous poses in which she'd captured Carl and Rosalie. She walked quickly to them to see what potential there was in the scene.
Rosalie's legs were spread wide; her calves rested on Carl's shoulders. She was slumped against the railing, and her hands gripped it so tightly her knuckles were white.
Her cunt was directly in his face. He was lapping at it tenderly, sucking the love juices from it with the same heartfelt sincerity she had eaten him. Her wide slit was apart for him, and he flicked his tongue hungrily inside her hot canal.
"Move up, Carl," she urged. "Lick my alit. Please."
Her tone was nearly desperate; she seemed on the verge of tears. It was as though there was a tremendous fear mixed in with her tremendous sexual yearning.
Carl nuzzled his way through her pubic hair to the top of her cleft. His tongue snaked around until it found the organ--and then he abruptly stopped. Carl parted her pubic hair and gazed at her cunt. He could hardly believe what he saw.
Her love bud stuck out from her like the tip of her pinky.
The clit was well over an inch long. It was stiff and red just like a little prick without a hole in the end.
Rosalie's eyes pleaded with Carl, begging him to suck on her hard little shaft. Her look was one of anxious longing; she was begging him to accept her as a person, a whole person whose sexual abnormality didn't diminish her need for love.
Carl looked up at her for a long time--and then he pursed his lips over the turgid shaft. He sucked lovingly on it, drawing it up and down, bobbing his head as he ate the clit with all the feeling he could muster.
A sharp cry escaped from Rosalie; she was sobbing with happiness. No one had ever done this for her before. Other men had started to perform cunnilingus, but they'd laughed or withdrawn in horror when they'd seen her big organ. They'd treated her like a freak.
But having a clitoris over an inch long didn't make her a freak. It just made her an ordinary young woman with an extraordinary need for love, and it looked like she had found that love at last.
A thousand explosions worked their way from her hard clit down into her cunt. She just sat there with tears of joy streaming down her face as she reached her climax. Her midriff trembled violently and her legs twitched with the thrill, but no sound escaped her lips. She just silently cried, happier than she'd ever been in her life.
Linda stared at the scene, her own eyes welling tears. as she shared in Rosalie's happiness. She had hoped Hard Times would do a lot of good for many women, and she'd just witness the first example of it. Her magazine's role had been an indirect one in this case, but it had been the philosophy behind it which gave Rosalie the courage to open up--and change the entire course of her future.
Linda's heart swelled with pride at the thought that her brainchild could do so much good. She was so engrossed she did not notice the police patrol boat, its engine cut to prevent detection, drift up to the side of the yacht.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tom Hansen angrily slammed down the receiver and headed for his car, leaving a pile of dimes on the shelf inside the phone booth.
His wife wasn't at the agency. She wasn't at the club. She wasn't at her mother's. No, the operator didn't have a listing for Hard Times, but she sure wished she did.
The sports car roared down the street. Tom's jaw was set in grim determination as he mashed down the accelerator.
He knew how he could locate Linda, but it was going to be a damned unpleasant scene.
That goddamned Jennifer Hodgkins would know.
Jennifer had to be the one who put Linda up to this madness. He'd seen her listed as editor in the magazine he'd picked up at the airport, and her role immediately became apparent.
Torn had never liked her, her full body notwithstanding. Her face was a plain Jane's, and her manner identified her as the most frigid bitch on the block.
Linda and Jennifer had been friends since childhood, and Tom felt she'd always exerted an undue influence on his wife. Jennifer was the quiet type, and they always wanted to control things behind the scenes. She'd talked Linda into this whole insane enterprise--making a fool out of her and a laughing stock out of him.
Queen of Cock, my ass, he thought furiously as he gunned the car around a corner. She didn't want any part of her own husband's cock; it was a travesty to show her holding other men's hardons like she really enjoyed it.
And it was that thought that was driving Tom mad: she actually looked like she was enjoying herself while she grappled with a foot of hard cock. She had no business making him a cuckold--but to enjoy herself on top of it! That was the limit.
He'd shove his hard prick all the way down her throat and choke her to death, that's what he'd do. Or else he'd fuck her to death. He'd tie her to a bed and fuck her for days, forever if necessary, until she expired from sheer exhaustion. He'd give the Queen of Cock more miles of dick than she'd ever dreamed of.
The sleek sports car screeched to a halt in front of Bob and Jennifer Hodgkins' sprawling brick ranch. The sprinkler system freshened the blooming green lawn, and the whole atmosphere radiated middle-class bliss.
But Tom Hansen was going to change all that.
He rang the bell and paced back and forth. He rang again. Finally, the door opened.
Jennifer Hodgkins appeared in the doorway. She was wearing thick frame glasses, and her hair was done in the mousey bun that made her look forty-four instead of twenty-four.
"Tom!" she said, surprised. "Good to see you. Come on in."
Tom just glared at her and then stalked into the living room.
"Good to see me my ass," he snapped as he threw himself into a plush velvet chair. "You know why I'm here."
"I do?" Jennifer said pleasantly, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"I'm here to find my fucking wife!" he yelled.
"Tom! I don't appreciate such language."
"You don't appreciate such language," he seethed sarcastically. "Indeed. My sincere apologies. I got out of hand." He sat silently for a moment, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair.
"You appreciate a big dick though, don't you!" he screamed.
Jennifer's hand rose to her mouth, and her jaw dropped open.
"Tom, you're hysterical. What are you talking about?"
"Hard Times," he shouted, "that's' what the fuck I'm talking about."
Understanding hit Jennifer Hodgkins like a shock wave.
"I... you mean... don't tell me you didn't know?" Her voice was a whisper of disbelief.
"Don't pull that surprised act on me, you bitch," Tom fumed. He stood up and knocked into the cocktail table. You're the one behind the whole fucking mess and don't think I don't know it!"
"Tom, I just can't believe you didn't know about the magazine. I assumed... "
"Cut the shit, Jennifer. Where's my wife?"
"I don't know, Tom. How would I know? I don't keep track of her. She's probably somewhere working on the magazine."
"You mean you don't keep track of what your employees are doing? Don't give me that shit."
"My employees?" Jennifer was shouting now herself. "You've got to be kidding!"
"No, I'm not kidding. I'm not kidding about any of this. I want to see my wife. Now!"
"Tom," Jennifer said slowly, "I'm the one who works for her."
"What!!?"
Jennifer took Tom's arm and sat him down on the couch. Looking him straight in the eye, she told him the whole story. He buried his face in his hands as she finished.
"Want a drink, Tom?" she asked gently.
"I want a bottle."
Jennifer went to the liquor cabinet and poured him a hefty tumbler of Scotch. After a moment's reflection, she poured herself one too. Her nerves were nearly as bad. now as his.
"People certainly are funny, aren't they?" Jennifer mused as she handed Tom the glass. He put it to his lips and slugged half the drink down.
"How so?" he asked glumly.
"You make these assumptions about them, but no matter how close you are to the situation the assumptions can be very wrong," Jennifer said thoughtfully. "I naturally assumed you knew all about Hard Times. In fact, I figured you were encouraging Linda to do it, and that it was probably your idea to begin with. I'd have bet you were the power behind the throne."
"You mean the throne belonging to the Queen of Cock?" Tom laughed bitterly. "No, not likely. But you're right--there's no predicting people. If you'd asked me to pick the last two women on earth who'd be involved in a magazine like that, I'd have picked you and Linda.
"I know what Linda's like. When it comes to sex,. she's damn near frigid. I practically had to beg for it. I was fed up with the whole damn scene."
"Doesn't sound like the Linda I know," Jennifer quipped. "And what about me?"
"You? You've always been a prude, Jennifer. You wouldn't even look at a naked man, no less edit a publication that featured them."
"You're right," Jennifer confessed as she reached for the cigarette box on the cocktail table. "Or you were right. I'm changing. Linda's opened up a whole new world of possibilities for me.
"I sympathize with your problem, Tom," Jennifer continued as she lit her cigarette. "But you blame everything on the female, as though it all rests with her. I think men are more at fault. They've crowded women for centuries into believing they were some way they weren't. We're so anxious to please men that we fell for the whole line."
"Don't give me that women's lib bullshit," Tom snarled as he downed the rest of his drink.
"I'm not, I'm not talking about rhetoric at all. I'm talking about individual human beings who haven't realized their potential. I'm talking about me, for instance." she said as she kicked off her shoes and curled her legs beneath her. "Do you want to hear about me?"
"What about you?" Tom was trying to sound interested, but his mind kept wandering to his wife.
"Let me tell you about my introduction to sex. I'd looked forward to my wedding night for months for my whole life, actually. When we got to the hotel I spent a long time in the bathroom putting on my negligee, placing perfume and makeup in all the right places, trying to make myself as desirable as possible. All I could think of was pleasing Bob. So what happens when I walk into the bedroom all starry-eyed and filled with love?
"He's standing there naked, leering at me, rubbing his cock. His hardon was pointed right at me. I'd never seen a penis before, and I was so shocked at how big it was I nearly fainted."
Tom stared at Jennifer, amazed that she was talking like this. She was too preoccupied with her story to notice the look on his face.
"But do you think Bob cared about how I felt?" she continued. "Do you think he even noticed?
"He just put me on the bed and pulled my panties off. He Stood over me with that ugly red thing waving in the air, and then he lunged forward. He broke me wide open with one stroke. I was a bloody mess.
"He fucked me for about two minutes, and that was it. A year later he accused me of being a cold fish, and told me he was going to get love wherever he could find it. Ours has been a marriage in name only ever since."
"But you've been married two years, haven't you?"
"Two and a half," Jennifer replied as she sipped her drink.
"You mean... you haven't been raid in a year and a half?" he asked incredulously.
"Nope," she replied simply.
Tom stared at her in disbelief.
"But Linda's preaching has convinced me to change all that," she said brightly as she finished her drink. "She says there's a different me that I've got to get to know better. And I've become a believer. Watch this," she smiled.
Jennifer reached behind her and removed the comb at the back of her bun. She brushed her hand through her hair and it spilled shimmering brown waves across her shoulders. Taking off her glasses, she reached for her purse. She removed a make-up kit and quickly applied lipstick and rouge. Then she sat back and smiled at Tom.
"There!" she said as she took off her shoulder-padded jacket, pleased with herself. "How's that?"
Tom's amazement was plainly apparent as he stared at her.
He saw a luscious young woman, a sexy thing with a seductive twinkle in her eye. Her lips were round and full, and her breasts were huge mounds pressing against her sweater. Her legs were long and shapely beneath her modest gray skirt.
"Quite a transformation," Tom whistled.
"Do you think I look the prude now?" Jennifer laughed.
"Certainly not."
"Would you like to fuck me?"
She didn't wait for an answer. She grabbed Tom and pressed her lips against his in a greedy kiss. He felt her tongue slide inside his mouth before he even realized what was happening. It rolled around inside him frantically, searching for his own tongue. Her breath came in hot little pants, and she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed so tightly Tom thought he was being attacked.
When her hand pressed against his crotch, he understood that was exactly what was happening. Her fingers groped anxiously for his manhood, and Tom quickly grew hard.
She found his stiff dick and squeezed it. Then she reached for his fly. Without ever loosening her hold on him, she zipped it open and frantically searched inside.
She found his hard cock and pulled it through the open fly. She curled her fingers around it and moved them over the shaft with lightning speed, like a blind person examining a strange object. Jennifer suddenly broke off the embrace and looked at him, her eyes languid with passion. Her mouth was open and her lips were wet and glistening.
She stripped her sweater over her head in one quick movement and let it fall to the floor. She unsnapped her brassiere and slid it over her arms. Her tits spilled forward, and Tom's eyes grew wide when he saw how big they were. Enormous brown nipples covered them at the base.
She reached under her skirt and slipped her panties off her long legs. She gazed at Tom the whole time, as though he would leave if she took her eyes from him.
She grabbed his prick and hopped on him without taking her skirt off. She pushed him back against the couch and drove her tongue between his lips; licking against the roof of his mouth, the sides, anywhere she could find.
Her tight cunt slid down his pole like a custom-made glove. Her ass landed in his lap with a thud, and she groaned like an animal when it hit.
"OH MY GOD!" she heaved. "YOUR COCK IS WONDERFUL!"
As she rose on her knees, her silken pussy tugged against Tom's erection on the upstroke. She bounced down again, and Tom felt the shiver of sexual pleasure run through him, filling his system with the giddy delight only a tight cunt can give.
He pushed his cock upward, trying to match Jennifer's movements. She growled again, a strange gurgling sound which came from the base of her pulsating throat, and redoubled her frenetic movements. She slapped hard against him, her hungry vagina contracting as she rose and fell.
Her hair swung back and forth against her cheekbones as she rode him. Her mouth was open, and her breath came in strained gasps. She was like a wild animal; she didn't even know Tom was there.
All she cared about was his cock being there. She'd been so long without the feel of flesh in her flesh, so lonely and aching in her empty bed. It was as if this was her first and last chance to experience the wonders of sex, and she was going to make every second count for a lifetime.
"Your prick feels so wonderful inside me," she groaned. "It goes in and out and in and out... " She trailed off into another animalistic moan and humped even faster than before. Tom wrapped his fingers around her big, bouncing tits, using them as handles to steady himself as she banged against him, He looked down and saw the conservative gray skirt hiding her pubis. It seemed strangely out of place amid this violent sex, and he wanted to observe the action.
He lifted her skirt and saw the cream-covered cuntlips squeezing his prick. He watched her damp pussy slide up and down his pole with lightening-like strokes.
"Cock is so good," Jennifer panted. "Sex is so good. It's the best there is. The best... " She cried out again, and Tom watched her cunt slide over his cock with detachment. He didn't have to move a muscle. Her hungry body, nearly six feet of pent-up passion, did all the work.
He pressed his ear to Jennifer's heaving bosom; he could hear her heart pounding like a race-horse's. A wave of compassion swept over him. This was a desperate, lonely woman who was experiencing a joy she'd never known in her entire life. He wanted to hold out for her, to let her enjoy his hard manhood for every possible second.
But his swollen prick could take little more. Her throbbing pussy was bathing it with love juice, was pulsating around it with a thousand fleshy vibrations, was driving the sperm straight up from his balls.
"Look at us," Jennifer demanded.
She too was watching Tom's big prick glide in and out of her twat. Her head was bent, and together they watched themselves screw.
"I'M BEING FUCKED!" Jennifer cried. "You can see it, you can actually see it. WE CAN WATCH ME BEING FUCKED."
"Yes," Tom panted, "you can see the whole thing. Do you like to watch?"
"I do, I do," Jennifer hugged "I like to watch my cunt being fucked.
"And your prick!" she exclaimed. "The veins look ready to burst!
"It's beautiful, your prick," she said. "It's not like the ugly little thing I saw on my wedding night. It's a beautiful, living thing. I was wrong about cocks for so long ... Uhhh ... Uhhhhhhh!!!" She threw her head back; her face turned to a grimace of pain.
"Jennifer--are you all right?"
"No!" she cried. "I'm exploding! My cunt is breaking up into little pieces!"
Jennifer was having her very first orgasm, and she was struggling to communicate her feeling. Her face was red, and her hanging tits flushed brightly. Color spread over her torso like a rash.
"I'm coming too!" Tom groaned.
"I'll watch you!" Jennifer screamed, near hysteria now. "I'LL WATCH YOU COME!"
They both held up her skirt so Jennifer could see Tom's throbbing organ. The veins filled to bursting as his sperm slithered its way up the canal at the center of his dick. He thrust his pelvis one time, the only time.
Hot come exploded into Jennifer's trembling pussy, splashing up against her womb and lining her silky cylinder with the fluid she had not felt for so long.
"I feel it!" she panted. "I feel it floating inside me! It's a man's wonderful, powerful semen!"
Jennifer wriggled her pussy around Tom's subsiding cock, winding it in little circles to milk him dry. He stayed in her as long as he could. He was remarkably composed, and not at all out of breath. His starving partner had done all the work.
She still gazed at him with the anguished, passionate look that threatened to turn to hysteria at any moment. Tom felt himself shrink inside her until his soft prick slid out.
"Your cock is gone," she said, alarmed.
"We just fucked pretty good Jennifer," Tom replied calmly. "It doesn't last forever."
"But I want it to!" she said anxiously.
Jennifer hopped off Tom's lap and got on her knees. She reached for his belt buckle and quickly undid it. She unsnapped his pants and hurriedly pulled them down to his ankles. She removed his shoes and socks.
His puffy cock waved helplessly next to her face as she bent down to take off his shorts. She slid them very carefully off him, and then turned her gaze to his genitals.
Tom's legs were spread wide and his long balls hung down on the couch. Jennifer studied them carefully, like she was looking at something through a microscope. Then she reached out and scooped them up, holding them in both hands.
"Your balls are so soft and silky," she said, enchanted. "They don't feel like anything I've ever felt before."
"Haven't you ever held a man's nuts?" Tom was again astounded by her naivete.
"No," she replied. "I always wanted to, but they looked so wrinkly and ugly. I was wrong about that too. A woman has never experienced softness until she's held a man's balls in her hands."
Jennifer pursed her lips and brushed them against Tom's testicles. Her tongue darted out and licked the delicate skin. Tom threw his head back against the couch and groaned while Jennifer's big tongue lapped all over his scrotum. She opened her mouth and sucked his balls in. They were too big for her to swallow, too big for her to get even half of them in her mouth. But she nibbled contentedly on what she had, looking up at Tom with a passionate, hungry gaze. Her tongue worked too, finding one of the little nuts inside his sac and lapping gently at it.
The sucking on his nuts drove Tom wild. His cock began to rise again, and the slow movement caught Jennifer's eye.
"Your dick is getting stiff again," she said in a trance-like tone.
His balls were still cradled in her mouth as she spoke. She munched on them faster now, her eyes fastened to the prick she was causing to expand.
She grabbed his hardon and pumped up and down on it while she ate his nuts. She felt it swell in her hand, felt the hotness and hardness against her palm. Her clitoris had remained stiff despite her orgasm, and the feel of his cock tormented it even more. She began wriggling her ass about, moving her pelvis in big circles against the couch.
She couldn't wait any longer.
She reached up and grabbed Tom's big tool, and threw herself on him. She slumped heavily against his chest, and Tom struggled for his breath as she aimed his hard prick at her cunt.
Her pussy found the end of his rod and slid over it. She worked her way down until the entire shaft was inside her, and wriggled her ass to settle herself.
"The second time around," she whispered with hot breaths into his ear. "Love is more wonderful the second time around."
The heated movements of her cunt began again, and Tom lay back for another ride. Within seconds she had transformed herself into the other person who'd lain dormant inside her so long, the frenzied animal who couldn't get enough hard prick.
She was like a storm upon him, a human hurricane blitzing his loins and body and mind with a sexual barrage more powerful than anything he knew existed. Her breath came in hot gasps and she fucked him with every fiber of her being. Tom began to move with her now, slapping his upper thighs against her lush lower thighs, ramming his rod into her pumping wet cunt.
She planted a long, suckless kiss on his neck as moans began to rise in her throat.
"I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming!" she suddenly panted.
Tom couldn't believe her speed, couldn't comprehend a woman reaching orgasm so quickly. But Jennifer was such a blur of passion that she crammed an hour's activity and years of longing into just a few intense seconds.
She screamed as she exploded on him, flailing away on his prick like a madwoman. Her whole pelvis shook, and he could feel the tremors inside her cunt as it vibrated around his turgid organ. There was no doubt about it--she'd achieved another climax.
Tom himself wasn't quite ready yet, but with the whirlwind treatment she gave him he didn't have to worry about being left high and dry. Jennifer just continued to fuck him as if she'd go on forever.
The insistent slapping of her wet cuntflesh on his hardon finally created intense feeling in his cock. She reached behind her big ass and grabbed his nuts. She massaged them tenderly as she flicked him. The action of his cock, his balls and the long sucking kiss on his neck caused a new supply of gism to well up inside him.
"I'm coming again!" Jennifer suddenly groaned. "It's going to kill me this time! Your cock is going to kill me!"
Jennifer emitted another blood-curdling scream. Her massive tits trembled as she went off again. The excitement was contagious, and Tom stroked furiously to join her.
A load of sperm shot from him in an agonized, squeezing movement. He felt like his guts were spilling into her cunt along with his semen.
Jennifer didn't even seem to notice that he'd come. She continued to hump him, and he was forced to grab her massive tits and push her away.
"I can't take any more," he gasped.
Jennifer got up and stood naked in front of him. Her hands were on her hips, and a triumphant smile crossed her face.
"I can take more," she smiled. "I can take all the cock you can give me. Any time."
Tom lay back against the couch and watched her creamy ass as she ambled over to the liquor cabinet to get him a restorative drink. As she passed the television she bent and flicked it on.
"A little diversion and a drink will make you a new man," she smiled as she returned and handed him the glass.
She sat down, crossed her shapely legs, and lifted Tom's head into her naked lap. She held the glass of Scotch and helped him drink, like a baby.
Tom's eyelids closed and he felt himself slipping off into much-needed sleep. Jennifer was running her hands over his warm forehead, soothing him. The drone of the television was hypnotic, the voice of the newscaster a sedative for his consciousness.
... may have met an abrupt end today when its founder and publisher, Mrs. Linda Hansen, was arrested on a yacht with three men and three women who...
The announcer's words pierced Tom's consciousness, and he bolted to a sitting position. He and Jennifer stared at the screen.
... charges, including indecent exposure, conspiracy to commit lewd acts, sodomy, unnatural sexual behavior, public nudity, and lewd conduct.
Tom watched the screen as Linda unsuccessfully attempted to shield herself with a newspaper from photographers and TV cameramen. She was wearing a bikini;" she clutched the top with one hand. She looked distraught.
Linda was followed by three young men in various stages of disarray, and three young women who were also bikini-clad. Tom recognized one of them as Rosalie Gomez from the agency's sales staff. She didn't seem upset at all; she was relaxed and smiling while she held hands with one of the men.
...Judge Clayton Harrow set bail at $25,000 for Mrs. Hansen, and $10,000 each for her six companions. A hearing-on the charges will be held Tuesday morning.
What bearing this incident will have on the future of the magazine which created such a sensation--and furor--over the weekend is unclear. However, it would appear...
Tom mentally tuned the announcer out, cursing him as a voyeuristic fool. He sank back into Jennifer's lap and reached for the cigarette box.
Serves the fucking cunt right, he decided. I get to rest on her best friend's pussy while she rots in jail.
Poetic justice, he thought smugly.
CHAPTER TWELVE
He fucked Jennifer one more time, and then crawled from her house like a rag doll. She'd risked standing nude in the doorway to bid him good-bye, her expression inviting him back any time he felt like it.
Another free piece of ass. They're everywhere, Tom thought matter-of-factly as he started his car and swung it into the quiet tree-lined street. The sun was falling, and night would soon be on the city.
Tom automatically started home, but soon realized there was no reason to go there. He would find it too disturbing to be in the midst of what used to be. He stopped at a liquor store for a bottle of Scotch, and headed for a downtown hotel.
His night was strange. Screwing Jennifer had drained him completely, and his system was too bankrupt to provide the rage he wanted to feel against Linda. So he thought he'd drop off to sleep immediately. Instead, he just lay on the bed in his darkened room, and drank and thought. He finally drifted off to sleep in the early morning.
The sun peeking through the Venetian blinds woke him. He tried to analyze his emotions as he showered, but couldn't.. He still didn't feel the dull cloth coat. "I have to bring it back. I don't have anything else to wear, so they're letting me borrow it."
Tom stared stoically at her. She turned and went back to the sergeant's desk to fill out a ledger book. Dozens of cops and civilians passed by her, and not one turned a head to look at the drab figure at the desk.
Some Queen of Cock, Tom thought.
She returned to him and they silently walked to his car. He didn't hold the door open for her when she got in.
"Home?" he asked curtly as he started the engine.
"Where else?" she replied glumly.
They drove along wordlessly. Linda stared blankly at the traffic through the windshield.
Finally Tom laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"Events. People," Tom replied. "Do you know where I was when I found out about you and your magazine?"
"Where?"
"In Jerry York's mansion."
"Jerry York's mansion?!"
"That's right. Sitting in his private office. He was the one who showed me the magazine, in fact."
"What in the world were you doing in Jerry York's mansion?"
"Fucking the Plaything of the Year."
"What?!"
"I said, fucking the Plaything of the Year."
"Have you been drinking?"
"She sucked me off too. Almost forgot about that."
Linda's eyes widened. The story sounded impossible, yet Tom was so calm and rational that she sensed the ring of truth.
"Yes sir," Tom said with an ironic grin, "Wouldn't that make a great story for a scandal sheet? Plaything of the Year blows Queen of Cock's husband."
"How... how did all this come about?" Linda was now certain he was telling the truth.
He related the whole story, from start to finish. He took it from Melody's first blow job to the wild photo session to the party at York's place. Linda stared at him incredulously the whole time he talked.
"Well, what do you think of all that?" he asked proudly when he was done.
And at that instant, the main reason he'd done this became clear. She'd been messing around with all those big pricks, and he wanted her to know for sure she wasn't the only one who could fuck around. He wanted her to know he'd been getting his too; he wanted her to experience the same pain, the same sense of betrayal, that had afflicted him.
"I'm... I'm shocked," Linda finally replied.
"Shocked? At what?"
"At your behavior. That you'd be so callously unfaithful. And with teenagers, no less. I trusted you completely, Tom. I guess I was a fool."
"You were a fool!" Tom exploded. "How the fuck do you think I felt seeing a picture of my wife hanging onto a footlong cock. And having that picture distributed nationwide? I could see myself on the Today show with Barbara Walters: 'And now we have an interview with Mr. Thomas Hansen, voted Cuckold of the Year and Laughing stock of the decade!"
There was a long silence.
"You're right," Linda finally admitted softly, "You aren't any worse than I am. It's just that I was surprised, that's all."
"How the fuck could you be surprised at anything?" Tom fumed. "At least I told you. You didn't pick up some goddamned magazine and see it."
"You're right, you're right," Linda repeated penitently. "You're absolutely right. I'm sorry for what I've done to you."
They drove for a few minutes with no further exchanges. Tears formed in Linda's eyes.
What happened to us, Tom?"
"You, that's what," he snapped. "First I have to beg you to fuck, and then you bill yourself as the Queen of Cock--of every cock but mine. How the hell is a man supposed to cope with that?"
"You didn't have to beg to fuck me," Linda protested lamely. "I always--"
"You always made it last on your priority list," Tom interrupted. "And you fucked like you were trying to be a lady. I never wanted a lady. I wanted a woman. Somebody like your good friend Jennifer."
"Jennifer? I don't understand."
Tom just smirked--and Linda caught his meaning. She put her hands to her face.
"When?" she asked, horrified.
"All day yesterday," Tom laughed. "That's when. What a piece of ass that was."
He was rubbing it in now, mercilessly grinding the salt into her wounds, hoping they would be as painful as his. They pulled to a stop in their circular driveway.
"Jennifer's always been such a prude... " Linda was staring straight ahead, and sounded like she was in shock.
"Not any more," Tom laughed. "She fucked me like a wild animal. I've never been taken for such a ride. I guess she's changed, Linda. And do you want to hear something really funny?"
"What?"
"She said you're the one who changed her!" He broke into a hearty, cruel laugh.
"Tom?" Linda asked, her voice on the edge of breaking.
"Tom my ass," he replied bitterly.
"That proves people can change, doesn't it?" He stared at the dashboard.
"Well, I've changed too. Changed a lot. Please come inside."
He looked over at her, over at the pleading brown eyes which highlighted her spectacularly beautiful face. He sat there for a moment, and then opened his door. He didn't know why he was accepting her invitation, just as he still wasn't entirely sure why he bailed her out in the first place. He just did it.
They walked into the living room. Without looking him in the eye, Linda reached for his hand. She led him over to the couch. She sat down, took both of his hands in hers now, and looked up at him.
"I was wrong in the way I did things," she said firmly. She couldn't bear his hard gaze, and she looked down at the floor as she struggled to find the right words.
"Your sexual urges were very strong, but I just ignored them," she said softly. "I understand that now, and how maddening it must have been for . you. I only wanted sex when it was convenient. I was absurd. And I'm sorry.
"You wanted to be sucked off," she continued. "You always wanted me to do that for you, but I wouldn't. I was dumb, just plain dumb.
"But I've changed, Tom," she said urgently. "I think this whole experience can be the best thing that ever happened for us, if we just try to let it be."
"How?" Tom snapped, exasperated. "How can it possibly be good?"
"I'll show you," Linda replied solemnly.
She reached out and grabbed his belt buckle. Before he had time to stop her, before he was even able to understand what she was doing, she'd undone it with her expert hands.
She quickly opened his fly, grabbed his slacks and pulled them down to his ankles. Then she took off his shoes and socks and pulled his pants off.
Linda got off the couch and fell to her knees.
She kissed his feet, licking at the toes. Her tongue curled around his ankle-bone, and slid-up his calf. She reached the back of his kneecap, and sucked on the soft white flesh there.
Her tongue lapped its way up the side of his thigh. Tom stood like a stone, amazed at what she was doing but determined to resist her.
When she reached the bottom of his shorts she rose and brought her beautiful face in line with his midriff. Her tongue darted into his belly button, and she wrapped her arms around his ass. She licked and sucked at the little hole for a long, long time.
Through a mighty effort of will, Tom's peter remained soft despite her efforts. He didn't know why Linda was doing this, but he wasn't going to give her any satisfaction at all.
Linda's left hand slid across his butt and then hovered in front of the slit in his shorts.
"Let's get your meat out and take a good look at it," she said solemnly.
She reached into his underwear and found the head of his cock. Cupping it with her fingers, she pulled upward.
His prick leaped out from his shorts like a striking snake, and flopped across them. It hung there limply, its pale whiteness contrasting with T his deep blue shorts.
"Remember how you wanted me to look at your dick and tell you how much I like it?"
"Yes."
"Well, your cock was the only one I'd ever seen. But now I'm an expert. I've held poles nearly a foot long. I've jerked them off, and watched them shoot their loads for me.
"And I've been fucked by other pricks now. I've had them jam me until my cunt exploded. So I'm an experienced woman now. I know what I'm talking about--and I want to examine your dick."
She reached out and picked up his cock in one hand. She looked at it very closely, like an inspector on an assembly line.
"Your cock has thick veins running along the sides," she began. "There is tender, wrinkly tissue forming a circle near its end."
"The head of your cock is different in color and texture than the rest of it," she continued. "It's light pink, and the skin is smooth and delicate. The hole at the end is bigger than most. You shoot big loads of come."
Linda used both hands to spread apart the tissue at the end of Tom's dick. The hole widened and flattened, like it was winking at her.
"And now, wonder of wonders, your cock is actually growing. Right in my hands, it's getting longer and thicker.
"It's texture is still soft, soft as silk," Linda said as she ran her hands over the hardening member. "But it's becoming stiff and strong, and beginning to stick straight out from your body."
"Do you like my dick?" Tom asked through gritted teeth.
He hated himself for everything, for asking the question he'd asked hopefully so many time before, only to receive meaningless answers. His wife would play games with him, knowing what he wanted to hear but never really meaning what she said--because she never had any basis to make a judgment on.
"Yes, very much," Linda replied sincerely.
There was conviction in her voice, and Tom cast his eyes down to study her expression. She seemed pleased at what she saw. She seemed to be telling the truth.
"Let's measure it," she said suddenly, looking up at him with a smile. "We've never done that. I don't even know how many inches you have!"
Linda stood up, and Tom grabbed her drab shirt.
"Take those damn things off," he said gruffly. "I want to see your tits. And your hairy pussy."
"Whatever you want," she said obediently.
She immediately unbuttoned the gray blouse and took it off. She wore no bra, and her fits were just as he remembered them--long and flowing, with those oddly pink nipples jutting out.
She slipped off her shorts and panties. Her curly crown of pubic hair arched thickly between her legs, glistening in the morning light.
Tom watched the undulations of her perfectly-shaped ass as she headed for the kitchen. She opened a cabinet and returned with a tape measure, her big tits swaying as she walked.
She dropped to her knees in front of Tom's hardon. Her beautiful, wide mouth--the one Tom had longed for years to feel around his member--was just inches from his throbbing rod.
"Let's help your dick reach full size before we measure," she said as she grasped the organ in her left hand. She pumped on it purposefully, studying the organ from the side as she did so. She watched it grow even longer and thicker.
"There," she said, satisfied. "Now let's size it up!"
She stretched the tape measure across the top of his cock and studied the reading.
"Exactly seven inches," she announced. "More than enough for any woman. Let's get the circumference."
She wrapped the tape around his hard prick, her head bending to gaze at the underside where the end met the tape.
"Five inches," she said. "Again, bigger than average."
"But the important thing about your prick," Linda said, "is the way it's shaped. It's nearly perfectly formed, like a smooth cylinder. The end isn't bigger and out of proportion to the rest of it, like some I've seen. And it isn't bent or anything. It's one smooth formation, and that's what I like second best in a prick."
"What do you like best?" Tom asked feverishly. The excitement was welling up inside him now. This Linda with the overriding sexual interest was the one of his dreams.
"The hardness," Linda answered. "The stiffness. I like my pricks good and stiff, and yours is as hard as possible."
Linda leaned forward and brushed his cock with her thick red lips. She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes wide with excitement.
"I want the sweet taste of your meat in my mouth," she said passionately. Tom could hardly believe his ears.
"And Tom?" she whispered.
"You're taking a virgin."
"What?"
"I've never blown anyone before. I was saving myself for you. Only you."
Linda's lush lips parted and her big mouth opened wide. She moved over the head of his hardon, and then gently closed her mouth. She puckered her lips on the meat, and flicked her tongue into his cockhole.
Tom. shuddered. The sensation she gave him was nearly unbearable.
She moved her lips further down the organ, slowly, gradually, like a starving woman who wanted to be sure she was actually tasting a solid object. Her lips crawled forward, making little munching movements as they went, until she had worked her way down to the root of his cock.
She had his entire seven inches in her mouth and she had taken it in easily, gracefully. Her mouth was so wide and big it was made for fellatio.
She was born to suck him off.
A delicious combination of pleasure and agony coursed through Tom's cock as she drew back on it, sucking hungrily like she had a massive straw in her mouth. She reached the head of the organ and bathed it in saliva, her tongue wrapping around it and teasing it with its slippery feel.
"Are you sure you've never done this before?" Tom asked, his voice shaking.
"Never," she replied solemnly when she looked up at him. "I had one sliding across my lips once, but I didn't do anything. It was much bigger than yours--nearly a foot long."
"I think you could have handled it," Tom said. "Your mouth was made for sucking men off."
Linda opened her mouth wide and moved back over the erection, gobbling up .the entire shaft again. She felt it swell and tremble in the warmth and softness of her mouth.
"You don't have to do this," Torn said suddenly. "You can stop."
Linda slowly drew her mouth back along his hardon and spoke while her lips rested on its head.
"I don't want to stop. I want to suck you off. Because I love you. And because I love your cock.
"And I'll never stop loving it," she said passionately as she swooped down again over the erection. She reached its base and then began to pump her head rapidly back and forth. She felt Tom's trembling hands fall gently in her hair and caress her head.
"This in unbelievable:" he groaned.
Linda's head continued to pump back and forth on the long organ. It went faster, faster, faster, until Tom could bear it no longer.
"I'm going to shoot my load, Linda," he panted. "Get out of the way!"
"I want you in my mouth!" Linda said, parting her lips to speak as she blew him. "I want the wonderful taste of your hot come in my mouth!"
The sound reverberated through Tom's hardon, and his whole body shook. He was ready to explode.
"Pour your come into my mouth," Linda urged passionately. "I want your hot come. I want it for the rest of our lives, anytime you do!
"That's how I'll wake you up," she continued while Tom stuffed her big mouth full of cock. "You'll feel my mouth rising and falling on your beautiful prick, and you can start the day by shooting off into me!"
Tom's cock burst open. He could feel the head hit the back of Linda's throat.
He shot his load on that tender tissue, splattering it into her throat and mouth and tongue.
Linda furiously gobbled every drop of come from his organ, lapping it up eagerly, reveling in the taste.
Tom shut his eyes, but he could still see. He could see a very long future for the two of them together.
