There have been, over the centuries of Man's civilized existence, a multitude of poets, authors, minstrels, lyricists, and artists who have used Young Love as the subject and theme of their great works - and rightly so, for that other human phenomena is so intensely fraught with beauty, spirit, drama, happiness, gentleness, sadness? We, the laymen of the world, should be eternally grateful to these craftsmen for having given us, through their varied talents, a chronological and aesthetic panorama of this great prodigy.
And now, with the publication of author Jacquelyn Masters' truly magnificent new novel, A New Wife's Hunger, still another of history's superbly gifted women of the Arts raises her voice and opens her heart to extol the ultimate virtue of Young Love. With rare insight, compassion and deep understanding for the agonies and the ecstasies of this phenomena, author Masters probes in depth the union of Ann and Mark Lawson - two young lovers, just wed,, who are embarking on a freighter voyage to the Virgin Islands for their honeymoon; but more importantly, who are embarking on a life together in a world filled with pitfalls and predators and awesome hurdles.
Ms. Masters' superlative command of the English language, unequaled by any author publishing her work today, makes the reader feel as if he too is on the boat with Ann and Mark, sharing their experiences and their heartbreaks and their desires. She takes us on an esoteric roller coaster ride which is both frightening and unbelievably beautiful, as she lays bare that side of Young Love's struggle for happiness and completeness which is all too often neglected by lesser artists. She tells us of the ineptitude, the fear and trepidation, which accompanies the formulation of a union between a virgin bride and a relatively inexperienced groom - and shows us how, in the space of ten short days and with the not always orthodox but nonetheless effective and humanitarian guidance of those men and women who have lived the torment-beauty of Young Love themselves, Ann and Mark Lawson are started on their way to a full, rich, rewarding life together with their love blooming more radiant with each passing day.
We are indebted beyond words to the author for having given us the privilege of publishing this monumentally poetic and important saga of Young Love at the crossroads.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
It was just past seven p.m., an hour before sailing, when newlyweds Mark and Ann Lawson boarded the M.S. Brunehilde. It was very hot even for Boston in early summer, and Mark was perspiring freely and breathing in panting gasps when he had completed his third trip up and down the ship's long, rope-railed gangplank with their luggage.
As he placed the final two suitcases beside the others on the wohndeck of the large German freighter, he noticed Ann talking to a fat, jovially-smiling man dressed in a white shirt and white ducks, salt-and-pepper hair combed straight back in the European fashion with the ends sticking up like quills on a porcupine. He was, Mark thought, probably the Chief Steward, and would no doubt be conducting them to their cabin. He walked over to the smiling, Nordic-featured man and his beautiful, jet black-haired wife of less than four hours.
He glowed inwardly as he stepped up beside Ann and put a possessive arm about her slender waist; he was a pretty damned lucky man and he knew it. Ann Lawson nee Montague was quite a catch, a lovely Dresden doll that all the eligible males in Erhert and Company - a huge Boston manufacturing concern - had been trying to either bed or wed ever since she had gone to work there as a highly competent personal secretary two years before. Only he, Mark Lawson, a lowly System's Analyst, had succeeded in accomplishing either of those goals - and only the wedded part to date. She had been firm in her persistent vows to remain a virgin until her wedding night, and in spite of Mark's urgings whenever they were alone and making out, he had gotten nowhere. Oh, she had let him fondle her breasts a couple of times, just a little, but nothing more than that - that is, until three weeks earlier when, after a cocktail party some of their co-workers and friends had given in their honor, he had come as close as a man could to taking her cherry without actually making penetration... but there was no use in thinking about such things now, for Ann was his and his alone, they were about to embark on a storybook honeymoon for three weeks in the beautiful Virgin Islands - and best of all to Mark's way of thinking at that moment, they were finally going to consummate their love for one another.
The very thought of at last seeing Ann's small but perfectly proportioned and perfectly symmetrical body( bronzed from frequent weekends in the sun (except in two very vital areas), caused a little involuntary tingle to course through Mark's genitals. Damn, but it was going to be good! He had waited so long, so long...
Suddenly, he grinned sheepishly. Hell, the way he was thinking, you'd suppose he was just some Hot-Pants Harry with a particularly fine score, all set to pop his nuts in a night of sheer lusting fun - and nothing else. And nothing could have been farther from the truth, for he loved Ann, loved her more than he had ever thought himself capable of loving any woman or anything. She was everything he had ever dreamed of, ever desired, in a woman and in a wife. Theirs was truly a marriage made in heaven...
Ann turned to look up at him as he encircled her waist, her eyes shining with her reciprocal love for this man she had married. She said, "What are you grinning about so little-boy-caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar-like, Mr. Lawson?"
He squeezed her lightly, kissing her forehead. "That, Mrs. Lawson," he said mysteriously, "you're going to find out a little bit later."
She blushed, poking him, and then looked toward the jovial fat man facing her. "Mark, this is Kurt Romer, Chief Steward of the M.S. Brunehilde."
"How do you do, Mr. Lawson?" Romer asked politely, extending his hand, beaming. His English was guttural, but good.
"Very well, thanks," Mark answered as he took the proffered hand. He glanced upward at the boat deck and the bridge above them, at the orange-painted masts rising beyond the superstructure amidships; he turned to look down at the main deck below, to where more masts and boom winches and an intricate pattern of cables and guy wires and ropes crosshatched them. A team of seamen were closing the cargo hatch just below, and he could see into an orderly hold which seemed to contain, among other things, several hundred cases of Tennessee Sour Mash Whiskey. He pointed to them, said, "Stores for the voyage, Kurt?"
Romer laughed appreciatively. "Nein. No," he said. "They are for import to Germany, yes?"
Mark nodded, chuckling. This is quite a nice ship," he said admiringly. "We expected something... well, a little less nicely kept up."
"Many people make the mistake of thinking travel by freighter must not be comfortable," the Chief Steward told him. "This is not so. Come, I will show you your kabine. It is directly, how you say, amidships, yes?"
He and Mark went to where the luggage was stacked, hefted several pieces each, and started toward an open companionway which led through the ship's superstructure. Ann walked at her new husband's side, saying, "Did you know, honey, that according- to Kurt, the M.S. Brunehilde is 180 feet long, weighs 7800 tons, and was built in 1956? She has full accommodations for twelve passengers, but there'll only be two other couples going with us to St. Thomas... " She broke off as Kurt swung open the door to Kabine No. 3 and bade them enter. Once inside, Ann made an ecstatic sound. "Oh, isn't this lovely, honey? Why, it's much, much bigger than we expected - and so nice, too!"
Mark had to share his bride's enthusiasm, for their cabin - which was the best the ship had to offer, they having been the first passengers to book and therefore having the first choice - was indeed both spacious and tastefully decored. The walls were paneled in light-stained mahogany, as were the built-on wooden bunk frames - one on either bulkhead. A six-drawer combination dresser-and-vanity was attached to the bunk frames against the forward wall, and there was a large circular mirror over it. A triangular table with two padded, sturdy-looking chairs, a large brocade sofa which would pull into a hide-a-bed against the aft wall, two handsome wall lamps, a large fan, and a pair of rectangular marine windows with red curtains pulled back away from them completed the appointments.
Kurt opened a door on their left, showing them a tile-floored bathroom with a tile shower at one end and two deep washbasins by the door. "Now," he said, "I will show you the lounge and dining room, and then I must make preparations for our voyage. We will be sailing in - he looked at his watch, a wide and expensive gold one of German manufacture - "about forty minutes."
The dining room and lounge, which were adjacent to one another, were large and comfortable, paneled in the same light mahogany and sporting solid, relaxing furniture. This was, Ann thought as the Chief Steward led them back to their cabin, going to be a truly marvelous trip, a trip she had long dreamed of taking - "the Virgin Islands freighter"; why the very phrase had an almost adventurous quality to it! And it was made even more wonderful, more exciting, because she was going to share it with the man she had married in a simple double-ring ceremony in Charlestown, the Boston suburb and the home of her folks, that afternoon; with the man she loved.
Ann sighed with a sense of contentment and well-being. She had never been happier than she was at this moment. Of course, there was tonight and the conjugal bed - but she had not allowed herself to think about that; yet now there was no escaping the fact that this was the day, the night, she would finally lose her long-well-guarded virginity. Well, certainly! she chided herself. You're married, aren't you? This is why a girl preserves her purity, isn't it? To present her innocent body to the man she loves, her husband, on their wedding night? There's nothing to be frightened of, for heaven's sake! And yet...
Ann found her mind harking back to her courtship with Mark, and how she had felt with him, how at ease she had always been where with other boys and men she had always had a tendency to freeze up. One of the boys she had gone with when she was just out of high school had called her a "frigid old maid" when she had slapped him for French-kissing her and trying to put his hand under her sweater. She had been deathly afraid for awhile that that boy was right, that she was frigid, but when she had met Mark and gone with him awhile, she knew it wasn't true at all. She hadn't let anybody touch her because she was saving herself, that was the simple truth - saving herself for this man, Mark Lawson.
She had not slapped Mark when he tried to French-kiss her; in fact, after two abortive attempts when she had simply clamped her teeth together, she had allowed him to put his tongue in her mouth. It had given her a deliciously wicked feeling, and a funny fluttering sensation in her lower stomach, and she had discovered that she liked it very much. The same thing had been true when he had tried to touch her breasts; at first, she had stopped him with a firm hand, telling him softly that it was wrong. And then, gradually, she had allowed him to place his hands on her soft, perfectly rounded breasts outside her clothing, then under it but just on her bra, and then finally on her bare breast though only for just a little while. His fingers had felt hot touching her like that, and her nipples had grown to diamond hardness, and her breath had come hot and harsh from her lungs. She had felt truly excited then, when Mark had been French-kissing her and stroking her bare breasts and nipples, stopping just long enough to tell her he loved her and then resuming his maddening actions yet again. It had been a good feeling, and she had known that she wasn't frigid, wasn't frigid at all...
But then there had been that night three weeks ago, the night of the cocktail party which had been given in hers and Mark's honor - and now she wasn't so certain of her sexual feelings. Ann remembered that night as if it had just happened, remembered every detail, almost every scrap of conversation. It had started out so joyously, with champagne punch and congratulations and teasing well-wishes and an almost New Year's Eve-ish atmosphere. All those present at the party had been close friends of both hers and Mark's, mostly from Erhert and Company, and Ann had felt safe and secure and able to let her hair down a little. She had drunk more champagne punch than she should have, become a little giggly, and gone around putting her arms around everybody because she felt so warm and demonstrative. She had kissed Mark several times in front of everybody else, warm passionate kisses, and she supposed dimly that she might have led him on to think that she wanted to have sex that night for the first time - though such a thought was the farthest thing from her mind at the party. Anyway, she wasn't naive enough to deny that she had been partly responsible for what happened on Old Bunker Road, overlooking the Boston Harbor, after she and Mark had left the party shortly past midnight.
The view of the Harbor, as they had driven along Old Bunker Road, had been one of jeweled splendor, and she had asked Mark to stop for a few minutes so that they look out on all that beauty. He had eagerly agreed, and on a shelled-turnout, with only the moonlight and the winking lights rimming the Boston Harbor for illumination, Ann had snuggled close to him on the front seat and rested her head on his shoulder.
She felt warm, lethargic, drowsily euphoric. After a time, she had turned to Mark and said, "Honey?"
"Yes, sweetheart?" he had answered.
"Mark, darling, I want you to kiss me. Kiss me to prove how much you love me."
He had needed no second urging, and Ann supposed that he might have misinterpreted her words to mean that she would allow liberties beyond those which had been the norm. At any rate, he had begun kissing her, ardently, his tongue flicking over her lips, and then pressing between her parted ones to find and fuse with her own liquid probe. Ann had felt a deep stirring in the pit of her stomach, responding to his lover's kiss by wrapping her arms tightly around him and pressing her body to his as he twisted on the front seat.
Before she knew quite what was happening, Mark's hands had been on her small but sculpted breasts, lightly, stroking them gently through the material of her jersey dress. She had clung to him harder. His touch was so good on her nipples, so good... there was nothing wrong in her beloved touching her that way. She had fused his tongue with hers more passionately, swirling their saliva together in the warm cavern of her mouth, and when his fingers had begun unfastening the large buttons on the front of her dress she had made no move to stop them. Then his hot, deft hands had the entire bodice open and were sliding around behind her to unsnap her bra hooks. The lacy cups had been raised, and his hands had held her breasts at last, thumbs tweaking the nipples lightly as they had before, bringing the drak pink berries into rigid arousal. Oh yes, his touch was so very, very good...
His tongue had begun to move in and out of her mouth then in an attitude of copulation, touching hers, withdrawing, slipping moistly and hotly inside her lips again, and Ann had felt the first faint stirrings of alarm. But in that moment, his mouth had left hers and moved down over the hollow of her throat, along the gentle upsweep of her globular white breast to the turgid nipple. He'd taken the tiny nub between his teeth, nipping it lightly, causing moaning gasps to bubble from Ann's lips and an ambivalent mixture of rising fear and rising passion to seize control of her brain and body. She wanted to resist, and yet she hadn't been able to -- and Mark had interpreted this to mean she wanted him to continue, to take further liberties with her flesh...
His hands had dropped to her legs at the knees, moving upward to stroke her creamy, patrician thighs, pushing up the hem up of her short dress as he did so. Ann had felt the rush of cool air play across her naked thighs, across the now-moistening protuberance of her pubic mound - and then his hands were there, on the downy-soft surface of her inner thighs, fingers almost touching her virginal pussy where no man had before gone, and his hungry mouth had become feverish, like a starving infant, on her breast.
"Nooooo!" she had moaned, the fear suddenly overwhelming the desire. "Oh God, Mark, no, no! This is wrong, you can't do this... " But Mark, enveloped by passion, had paid her words no heed. One of his fingers insinuated itself under the legband of her panties, touching the wet, warm, hair-fringed folds of her innocent womanhood, and she had gasped with a cry fraught with terror and thrill. Still battling in her brain was the inbred concept of sexual contact prior to marriage as an unforgivable sin, as opposed to the warm delights which her love one's hands and lips were filling her with.
Mark gently parted the soft flanges of her labia, drawing his finger upward along the tight, sensitive furrow to locate the tiny button of her clitoris. He began to tremble violently as he stroked the miniature phallus, making little purring sounds of lust deep in his throat, and Ann had found herself trembling too with the intensity of the conflagration which was being fought in her mind. A numbing, aroused warmth was slowly seeping into her brain cells, slowly dispelling the fear, and she knew that she would succumb, knew that she would give into this man she loved in spite of herself...
And then she had heard a sibilant sound, an unmistakable sound; Mark had unzipped his pants! The fear leapt into the foremost in the struggle of her senses, became consummate, and she began to push at Mark's head, push it away from her swollen breast, push his hands from between her naked and defenseless thighs.
"Stop it, Mark! Oh, please, stop it, stop it!" she moaned in agonizing torment.
But he was past stopping by then. His finger remained on her clitoris, rolling and teasing the nub, and his mouth remained glued around her hardened nipple, tongue licking and sucking it maddeningly in his desire. Ann's eyes fluttered open as she struggled, and she had stared down at this man she loved - stared down at him with a shocked horror for the sight she had beheld was uncomprehendingly nightmarish.
Mark had held his swollen, blue-veined penis in his free hand - and had been guiding its angry, throbbing head toward her partially-naked virginity!
She had screamed deep in her throat, for that first sight of a male organ in full erection was so hideous it had remained burned on the retinas of her eyes for days after the ordeal. It had been ugly, ugly! And it was so huge, so terrifying; how could a woman take anything that large, that awful, inside her body and enjoy it? She had been repulsed, and she had fought with every ounce of her strength.
But Mark had only wailed, "Oh God... Ann, darling, darling, I need you. I want you so goddamned bad! Oh God! Lucy, I'm going to cum and I want to cum inside you my love... " His words had filled her with utter loathing, but she had been unable to prevent him from pressing the head of his pulsating rod - it had been slimy with his oozing seed, she remembered - against the softness of her inner thigh as he endeavored to pull her panties all the way down, down to where he could insert the lust-thickened monster into her vagina and break her maidenhead like it was no more than an insensitive twig. She had squeezed her legs tightly together, feeling his sickening penis trembling against her thigh as he tried to work its bloated head into her cuntal area, struggling with all her might to free herself from his grasp.
And then - Mark had shouted in a high-pitched wail, "Ann, Ann, Ann darling, I'm cumming, cumming, oh Jesus! I'm cumming, sweetheart!"
His member had seemed to jerk out of control against her thigh, and then Ann had felt a great hot flood-tide of his sticky white seed pour forth to inundate her thighs, her jet black fleecy pubic hair and her defenseless vaginal slit. It had drenched the soft, still quivering folds of her womanhood with its searing heat until she felt as if she was being consumed by the never-ending torrent of liquid being emitted by the man writhing and moaning like an animal over her...
Afterward they had sat in shameful silence in the car, and Ann had cried uncontrollably. Mark had tried to comfort her awkwardly and with guilt and shame she had instinctively known was genuine, but she had refused to allow him to touch her. She felt soiled, humiliated, as if insects were invading the pores of her skin. But when she had calmed down that night after he had driven her home, she had realized the magnitude of a man's sex drive was great and that she had partially led Mark on to what had happened. When he had called her, miserable, the next day, she had accepted his apology, and after some strained moments the first couple of times they had been together after that, things had returned to normal in the excitement of their impending wedding. Still, she now had strong doubts about her ability to respond sexually, for every time she thought about making love with the man she adored, the image of his gigantic penis came into her mind and frightened her terribly.
Ann was aware that Mark was speaking to her, and she blinked several times, snapping out of her reverie. Her new husband was saying, "... the matter, sweetheart?"
"What, Mark?"
"I said, is something the matter, sweetheart?" he repeated. "You've gone pale all of a sudden. Do you feel all right?" There was concern in his voice.
Ann smiled up at him and suddenly everything seemed to be perfect for her again. Tonight would work out; things always did, didn't they? She just had to be calm and remember that she loved her husband and wanted to please him, and that he in turn loved her. Sex was important, but it wasn't all-consuming; you just couldn't build a marriage on the physical aspects alone.
The M. S, Brunehilde sailed a half-hour later. Ann and Mark stood at the railing on the port side of the boat deck and watched a small tugboat guide the big freighter away from the dock, turn her deftly with its flat snout bullied up against the ship's bow and then follow her out past the breakwater and into the open Atlantic. It was quite a sight, and so were the winking and retreating lights of Boston as the Brunehilde swung in a gentle curve and headed in a southerly direction. Ann felt the cool summer breeze rumpling her long ebony hair, playing across her delicately molded features, and she clung lovingly to Mark's strong arm. The air smelled fresh and brine crisp, and she breathed deeply of it, sighing happily.
They stood there at the rail for a long while and Ann wondered perfunctorily where the other passengers were. Probably in their cabins or somewhere on one of the other decks; well, it didn't really matter, she mused, for she would meet them at breakfast the following morning. Kurt had said that it was served promptly at eight o'clock in the dining room.
After awhile, Mark leaned his head close to Ann's and whispered, "Honey, I think we went back to the cabin. It's getting late."
Ann swallowed, experiencing a twinge of the fright she had known earlier. Then she firmed her jaw resolutely and looked up at her new husband with her eyes shining. "Yes," she agreed softly. "It's time, my darling."
Hand in hand, they walked down the stairs to the wohndeck and entered the companionway. Their cabin door was open, and Ann saw that the hide-a-bed had been pulled out and made up with frothy white sheets. Her breath caught in her throat momentarily, but she was determined not to show her consternation to Mark. She walked proudly to where their luggage, partially unpacked, was resting on the two bunk beds, thinking that Kurt had known they were honeymooners and had acted accordingly in making up the double instead of the two singles.
She took her frilly black lace negligee from inside one of her suitcases, smiled a bride's blushing smile at her new husband and said, "I'll... be right back, honey. I'm going to slip into something... more appropriate for our wedding night."
Ann moved past him and stepped into the bathroom. Mark stood there for a moment, feeling his breath quicken as he thought about what was shortly to transpire. At last!-At last he was going to have this lovely innocent creature, this beauteous sculptured treasure he had so long loved and coveted! He was going to have her body, have those small ripe tits pressed against his chest, have the tender moist pussy opened wide for his now-throbbing penis to enter and possess, have that sweet, rounded ass driving upwards against him as he stroked into her harder and harder...
Little droplets of sweat broke out on Mark's forehead. He stepped to the hide-a-bed and began to pull off his clothes in a hurried frenzy. Moments later, he stood completely nude, his long trembling cock standing out from his hirsute loins like one of those thick winch booms he had seen on the ship's after-deck. He looked down at his monstrous shaft, saw the little drooling droplet of seminal fluid on its swollen glistening head. I should put something on, he thought, at least a pair of my pajama bottoms... but to hell with it! This is my wedding night, and I'm going to make love to Ann for the first time and we both know it. So propriety be damned... Christ! My balls are like two lead fishing sinkers, hanging there... I've got a load built up like none in my life because I've waited so long for this night, so long for Ann's magnificent body to be mine, so long, so long...
He reached up and clicked off the wall lamps and the overhead light, leaving the cabin bathed in soft silvery moonshine which streamed in through the two undraped marine windows; it was almost as bright as a diffused indirect lighting system would have made it. Then he slipped between the sheets, dropping one of his hands down to stroke his hardened penis tantalizingly as he waited for his bride to come out of the bathroom. Little tingling sensations flowed through his turgid shaft as he toyed with the hammerhead rod, made his balls ache with pent-up fury.
Hurry up, he thought, come on, Ann, hurry up! Jesus, you don't know how long I've waited for this moment... Dimly, Mark realized that he was losing control of himself, that he was allowing total carnality to envelop him. He took a ragged breath, removing his hand from his burgeoning genitals. Take it easy, he cautioned himself. Don't go letting passion get in the way of your sanity. You have to be tender, gentle, with your new bride... she's a virgin, after all, and you have to realize that. The last thing you want to do, the very last thing, is to destroy your relationship with some uncontrolled act committed in the heat of frenzy and desire...
Mark took several deep lungfuls of the cool ocean air, and he felt himself calming down somewhat. It would be all right now; he would conduct himself like a husband with a new and virginal bride ought to on his wedding night -gently, lovingly, educatingly. He would - The sound of the bathroom door opening jerked his head in that direction, and the sight which his dark eyes feasted upon shattered all of his rational thoughts. His hand returned to his swollen cock reflexively, began to stroke it beneath the sheets and his breath spewed raggedly once again from between his parted lips.
Ann stood there, not three feet from him, one hand resting on the bulkhead. She was smiling shyly, dressed only in the sheer black lace negligee; the moonlight made the wispy garment completely transparent, and Mark could see each sensuous detail of her nakedness beneath it. Her small round pink-nippled breasts pushed the front of the negligee out in high splendor; the flat plane of her stomach with its tiny navel indentation sloped smooth and alabaster white to the perfectly symmetrical triangle of her dark black pubic triangle below. Her sublimely columnar legs, so magnificently in proportion to her tiny fragile body, were slightly parted, and Mark imagined he could see the glistening virginal slit at their apex. Her cunt, so rich and pink, so tight and coy, so delicately hair-fringed - waiting, just waiting for his invading cock, all his to possess and play with at his will.
And suddenly, Mark's brain was transformed into a seething cauldron of flaming lust. Nothing else mattered to him in that moment - not gentleness, not tenderness, not love - nothing else mattered but plunging his aching fevered prick into that tantalizing innocent flesh. He saw her not as his sweet lovely Ann but as a woman of the flesh, a cunt, a magnificent cunt which he legally owned and which he had to have right now at all costs!
He had to fuck her!
"Mark... " Ann whispered, tentatively stepping forward to the edge of the bed. "Mark, my darling, I... I'm ready for you."
With a cry that was almost animalistic ripping from Mark's muscled throat, he reached up and caught her about the waist and pulled her down beside him on the bed. "So long, I've waited so long for you!" he panted, his hot breath spewing into her face, frightening her as he clutched her soft resilient body to his own.
"Mark!" she cried, not comprehending. "Mark, honey, please . ., ! Be gentle, Mark... " But her words fell on lust-deafened ears. He clamped her to the bed with one hand and maneuvered the other rapaciously over the tender supple contours of her soft young body, squeezing her breasts spasmodically through the negligee, leaving red marks on the succulent flesh.
"Mark!" Ann cried out in fright, trying to struggle free of him. "Mark! You're hurting meee!"
But he was past all reason now. His hand bunched the negligee at her throat, jerked back violently; there was a shredding sound and the thin garment came away in his clawing fingers, leaving Ann lying before him completely nude. He cast the remains from him, his hot eyes feasting on her trembling flesh, and then his hands returned to her breasts, pinching the tiny coral nipples until they stood firm and erect. And then his mouth dropped greedily to engulf them, and he chewed hungrily at their tips, licking voraciously the chaste pliant flesh with his tongue. His hands crawled over her pubic mound, dipped between her legs, cupped and squeezed her pure wet pubic mound with cruel fingers.
"Oooohh!" Ann cried out in mortified horror, flailing her head from side to side. "Mark... have you gone... gone insane? Oh God, what are you doing... to me? Mark, Maarrrkk!"
He held her wildly straining body helplessly pinioned to the bed, imprisoning her with his weight like a great stone upon her bosom. Her long black hair was thrashing almost insanely from side to side beneath him, her lovely face twisted grotesquely in terror. Her wide-open eyes stared up at the lust-contorted caricature of the man she loved, had married, and her brain screamed uncomprehendingly: This can't be happening, it can't, it can't! This can't be Mark, my sweet gentle Mark, the wonderful man I married, doing these awful things to me!
Suddenly, Mark moved over on top of his new bride, forcing himself brutally between her slender legs, his hips falling heavily to wedge her thighs into a wide-splayed position, securing her jerking buttocks to the bed. The soft downy fleece of her pubic hair brushed teasingly against his throbbing cock, inciting him to unintelligible babblings of frenzied uncontrollable lust which drowned out her low tortured cries of fear and terror. He placed his knees strategically to hold her open to him, grinding his pelvis hard into her defenseless squirming crotch. The hollows of her thighs jerked spasmodically, drawing his hand between them like some powerful magnet; then he clutched his cock, and it worked up and down fiendishly until he split the moist, tight slit of her cunt with his prick's swollen head. Mercilessly then, it discovered the snug, undefiled opening to the soft warm passage between her legs, poised there...
And then he rammed forward!
"AARRRGGGHhhuummm!" Ann screamed in reaction to the terrible fiery pain which his monstrous entrance of her virginal orifice had elicited. She felt her hymen tear as if it were a butterfly's wing in the jaws of a brutish dog, felt the blood pour down between her legs as Mark flexed his hips and drove his great prick between the fleshy moist cuntal lips and with a deep groan, thrust it all the way forward into her quivering pussy. Her legs jackknifed out wildly in a crazed effort to escape the unexpected barbaric implement of torture impaling her. But it only served to worsen her position, and Mark heard the guttural screech of further pain which came tumbling piteously from deep in her throat as his rock-hard cock battered deeper and deeper into her warm yielding flesh. At last their pelvic areas collided with a resounding slap, signaling triumph to Mark's passion-crazed brain. His thick shaft lay completely submerged in the secret recesses of her belly, the head resting against her cervix and the warm wet walls of her unwilling cunt clasped tightly around the shaft's full pulsating length.
"Mark! My God... uuuhh!" Ann screamed, but it was a helpless protest, a vain one. Nothing could stop Mark now, nothing except release of the tremendous load of semen which weighted his heavy balls. The twin blocks of lust slammed against her moist flesh as he withdrew his giant rod and plunged forward again, withdrew and plunged, withdrew and plunged. Faster and faster his pelvis slammed downward against the sweating defenseless loins of his bride without giving her womb the opportunity to adjust itself to the size of his driving cock. There was nothing for him in that moment but cumming, cumming, cumming...
And then he was there and his cock was jerking wildly in her soft- elastic pussy as he bucked and heaved above her; great billows of heat swirled through his loins as he emptied his balls of his seed as the molten cum raced along the length of his cock and exploded inside the virginal belly of his young wife - again and again and again, a never-ceasing flow of liquid fire filling her chaste cunt, despoiling it with its lusting intensity, overflowing it to pool with the blood between her legs.
"Honey... honey... honey... honey!" Mark chanted mindlessly as he came, his fingers digging into her shoulders. Then he jetted forth the last spurt of his fiery cum into her pussy and collapsed over her, pinning her to the bed. His rapidly deflating prick slipped from the sheathing warmth of her violated innocence with an obscene sucking sound, trailing a gossamer strand of semen across her virginal white thigh like the trail of a snail as he rolled off of her.
A long long time later, Ann lay staring up at the ceiling, unable to move under the weight of his body pressed close to hers, and his arm flung across her stomach. In a hurt, terrified voice, a voice filled with despair, with shattered dreams and illusions, she whispered into the night, "Why, Mark? Why did you take me that way? Why did you... rape me? Why weren't you gentle, Mark?"
And in a voice choked with the shame and misery of returning sanity, he answered softly, contritely, "I... I guess it was because I've waited so long for you. I... I know it must have been horrible, darling, but I just... lost control, that's all. Please forgive me, Ann. Please, honey, I do love you."
"I don't know," she answered. "I don't know if I can forgive you, Mark."
"Oh God! Ann, you have to believe that I'm sorry! It won't happen again that way, I promise you! Please, darling... " He lay close to her, touching her timidly, kissing her hair. She said, "I want to sleep now, Mark," in a dull voice. "I... I don't want to talk about it anymore tonight."
"All right," Mark said softly. "We'll just forget it happened, sweetheart. Can't we do that? Can't we forget that I... lost my head with desire for you?"
I don't know, Ann thought. Tonight was a crucial time, Mark. I came to you in love and gentleness, and if you had taken my virginity the same way I might have lost all my fears, my inhibitions about sex. But now, this way... Well, I don't know if I'll ever want to make love again with you...
With a softly whispered good night to this man who had violated her, this man she still deeply loved, a confused Ann Lawson rolled over and silently cried herself to sleep.
CHAPTER TWO
Breakfast was a gleaming silver and frost white tablecloth affair. As Ann entered the dining salon, her eyes were brightened from the spotless settings, and for the first time since she had rolled over from Mark the night before, she felt that possibly the trip would be enjoyable.
Kurt, the heavy-set steward who had greeted them when she and Mark first boarded, approached, a wide smile on his face which showed the two gold teeth in his mouth. "Guten morgen," he said in his pleasantly rich voice. "You slept well? Gut, gut. Come this way, please."
Without bothering for answers, he beckoned toward one of the two long tables. The tables were exactly the same, both seating six with comfort, but one was for the captain, his wife, the chief mate, the chief engineer and their wives. It was by the set of port-holes which perforated one wall and which allowed a panoramic view of the bow and ocean. The table which Kurt pointed to was under a large oil mural depicting a busy harbor scene. Already four people were sitting at the table, and they looked up expectantly as the Lawsons approached.
A small shiver of fright passed through Ann as it always did whenever she had to meet people she didn't know. She hesitated, brushing back a strand of her coal-black hair, sure that these strangers would be able to read in her face what had so grotesquely happened the night before. She had looked in the mirror this morning, but she hadn't been able to spot any changes in her features, and yet, wasn't it said that when a girl did IT for the first time, everybody could tell?
Mark, used to her shyness from previous times, leaned over and whispered, "Come on, you're going to have to meet them sometime. Don't be rude."
Don't be rude! she gasped inwardly. Of all the people to talk of manners, he was the last one who - And then she found herself being introduced, and the two men of the foursome standing to shake her hand.
"My name is Vic Garret," the first gentleman said, "and this is my wife, All."
Vic seemed like a nice enough person, thought Ann in a quick judgment. He was tall, taller than Mark but. not as broad-shouldered, and more polished, as more befitting his age, which looked to be about thirty-five or so. His hair was dark and wavy as though his blood was Latin, and very shiny, and he had a well-clipped moustache along his upper lip. Ann didn't care for moustaches as a rule, but on him she decided it seemed to enhance his aura of suaveness. He was dressed immaculately, like an ad for ship-board life out of Esquire in an Italian polo shirt of varied yellow stripes, matching slacks and dark slip-on shoes. His deep tan was enhanced by his color choice, making his skin look like burnished copper.
Ali, his wife, had the same golden hue to her skin and her short cropped hair. She wore a simple white jersey pullover and white slacks, and her tiny feet were encased in satin gold slippers. The slacks were tight, as tight a pair as either Ann or Mark had ever seen on a woman, highlighting her rich thighs and full well-rounded buttocks as she sat, and for a crazy moment, Mark thought he could make out the narrow line of her cunt as the pants stretched over her vaginal lips and inside. Her breasts mushroomed the jersey like they were miniature circus tents, and they seemingly bobbed freely as she moved her torso to smile at them, and again Mark couldn't help the erotic thoughts about her. Was this woman not wearing a bra? Is that all her flesh which so symmetrically pushed the top out, and was that faint ridge the seams of her cups or the tight berry nipples?
"I'm pleased to meet you both," Ali said. Her voice flowed like warm honey, soft and purring, and her lips glistened from some inner moistness. She was the essence of femininity Mark thought crazily, a goddess of sensuality, and in spite of his deep and abiding love for Ann, his genitals responded to her pulchritude with a pang of growing interest.
Ann couldn't help but feel a little spiteful toward Ali, for she knew instinctively what kind of effect the woman was having on her husband. God knows he didn't need any help, she thought, he's satyr enough without further coaxing... She smiled prettily at Ali anyway, and then turned to the other couple.
"I'm Michael Holt," the man said. He was shorter and older than Vic Garret and had none of the polish. His hair was thinning, and he had cut the remainder short to de-emphasize his baldness, and while he had probably been just as muscular at one time, age had lowered his massiveness to his stomach. He wore a charcoal gray sweatshirt and a pair of tartan plaid bermuda shorts, and his stocky legs stuck out of the shorts like hairy posts. Yet he had an infectious grin and a certain easygoing manner which appealed to Ann as though he was a lovable old teddy bear one could drag anywhere.
"Mike isn't too good at remembering to introduce me," the other woman said. "I'm Harriet Holt, and please sit down before the meal gets cold."
Harriet was a perfect mate for Mike, Ann thought as she slid a chair back and then pulled herself to the table. Sort of plain looking with mouse-brown hair, but with a touch of spit and fire which would make her interesting to talk to. Her light blue dress was of the design which never goes out of style, and her form wasn't as good as it once was, but then that sort of made up for Miss Va-va Voom on the other side of the table with her jutting breasts and swaying hips...
Ann caught herself as she began to mentally rack Ali Garret again. What was the matter with her? She never reacted to a lovely woman like that before... why this odd feeling of jealousy all of a sudden? Had it something to do with last night, perhaps? Was she bitter over Mark's rough and bestial lovemaking, and today she felt resentful towards sex? Or... was she angry at herself, at her inability to respond, the way Mark had shouted at her? Was the sight of this obviously sensual woman acting upon her like a red flag before a bull?
No... no... That couldn't be it! her mind cried out in rebellion. Ann turned to her husband who was busy talking to Vic Garret about New York traffic. No, I was right last night! Look at the way he's got one eye pasted on Ali. His expression is almost... almost lewd!
Mark couldn't help comparing Al's musky sultriness to his own wife's virginal sweetness. Now THERE was a piece all right. Ali wouldn't turn him away like a cold fish and then just lay there, a dead person. He could tell she was the kind of woman that loved cock... and he would bet anything that Vic got one hell of a lay when he was in bed with her... He blushed slightly, his corrupt ideas making him embarrassed. No use harboring any more lewd thoughts, as nothing was going to happen between him and this Ali creature...
The breakfast was in six servings, starting with rolls and butter then juice, then on through eggs, porridge, fruit and a cheese platter. These German freighters really had the food! By the end of the meal the Lawsons were well acquainted with the Garrets and the Holts who, it turned out, had known each other in New York for some time. Vic Garret was a real estate broker who owned a number of small, nondescript hotels and apartment houses. The Holts managed three of his houses, and when Garret had said that he and Ali were planning to go to the Virgin Islands for a little vacation, Mike talked him into going by the slow means of a freighter and really relaxing, and then it ended up that the Holts went too.
"There's a lot to be said for traveling by freighter," Mike said over coffee. "You get a sense of distance this way. By plane, you're shuttled into a narrow seat, served TV dinners by plastic waitresses, and suddenly you're there. A friend of mine went to the Canary Islands, and when I asked them where the islands were, he said he had no idea, since he had flown there."
"Of course you don't see many young people on ships any more," noted Vic. "Always in a hurry. I was a little surprised to find out that you two were the other passengers, in fact."
"Well," admitted Mark," We probably would have gone by jet, except... well, it's our honeymoon."
"No!" Mike exclaimed. "Did you hear that, Harriet?"
"Of course I did," his wife said. "I'm right here, aren't I?" She turned to Ann. "I think this freighter trip was a wonderful thing to do. Was it your idea?"
Before Ann could answer, Vic said, "This calls for a drink!"
"What now? At nine o'clock in the morning?" Mark said incredulously. "It's a little early, don't you think?"
"Nonsense!" ejaculated Mike. "Not for a celebratory salute to newlyweds." He rose from his chair. "One small toast and then we'll go on deck. What do you say?"
Mark turned questioningly to Ann. "I don't know... " Ann's first reaction was to be horrified at the idea of liquor so early in the morning. She had never cared for the taste much in the first place, and somehow it sort of seemed wrong to drink before sundown, and she was going to decline. Her mind was already forming the words, "No, thank you, but you go ahead if you want... " when another thought struck her.
She didn't want to go back to the cabin with Mark! Not after last night. Not with the way he had been ogling Vic Garret's wife. She knew what he would want to do, and the whole idea of post-breakfast sex revolted her worse than the thought of a drink. She remembered when she had awakened this morning with Mark's fumbling hands over her naked skin and the feeling she had within her as though a thousand crawly insects were all over her body. She had feigned sleep until the steward knocked lightly on the cabin door, signifying breakfast, and it was too late for Mark to have his way with her.
He had still wanted to make love to her. He had pleaded for her to not go to breakfast and to stay in bed, but she had firmly said she was too hungry and had gotten dressed. She shuddered as she recalled how he had looked as he arose.
His long waving penis, purplish and splotched with the web of prominent veins along the shaft. It was like an angry snake swaying from his lower belly as though it was wanting to strike her and fill her with some infectious poison. Mark had been tight-lipped with frustration as he padded to the bathroom, getting his childish revenge on her by showing off his manhood in such obscene display as he dressed.
Yes, Ann knew what lay in store for her once the cabin door closed behind them, and she wanted no part of it. Not now, not while she was still smarting physically and mentally from the rupturing embrace of last night. Possibly later, after both she and Mark had time to cool down and she could reason with him, convince him sex is too sacred to profane with lust. Far better to put off the time when he would take her, would do things that would drive them further apart. Even... worse actions to soil her body than last night!
"Yes," she replied in false cheerfulness, "I think a little drink would be just the thing. If it isn't too heavy."
Mark was taken aback by his wife's decision. He frowned and then said to himself, what the hell! It might loosen her up a bit, and God knows she needed that. I want her... want her responsive and hot beneath my loins, and maybe a little alcohol would lubricate those rusty hinges of her pussy! As he walked with the others, he vowed that if possible he would get Ann to take more than one drink - her usual limit - and see if that would do any good.
With that thought in mind, he sauntered next to Garret, just as the latter was leaving the dining room. "Vic," he said, "Vic, I was wondering if you would... " he faltered, unsure he should ask.
"Yes, Mark?" Vic's tone was very friendly.
"Make the drinks heavy if you can. You know."
Garret chuckled. "I sure do. A little... help for the bride, right?" He patted Mark on the back. "Don't worry. I'll serve some schnapps in that case."
"What's schnapps?"
"A sort of German gin is as close as I can describe it. It's the national drink, if any one could be named, and it's both cheap and deadly. If you're not used to it, it can pack a hell of a wallop."
"How does it taste?"
"Like distilled kerosene. I'll mix it with tonic water, and it will be nice in this hot weather."
Indeed, Mark had to admit it was nice, as later, he sat in the Garret's cabin which was a slightly smaller replica of his and drank the schnapps and tonic. The size of his drink was large, but he chalked that up to Garret's way of making sure Ann didn't tumble to her potent drink, and besides, he liked his drinks with a kick. He could hold his liquor better than most, he thought; schnapps or no schnapps. As he enjoyed the strange piquancy of the liquor, he decided that the concept for a libation right after breakfast wasn't such a bad idea after all. The routine which he had" back on shore was broken, and out here with nothing to do, it made no difference when he drank or slept or made love...
The conversation was proving interesting to Ann, and she began to warm toward Ali a bit. They discussed television and the raising of kids, which none of the women present had, and she found that both women were intelligent, witty and sparkling with vivacity. The idea of Ali as a female predator soon dwindled and passed from her mind.
The first drink Garret had given Ann had seemed odd tasting but not especially strong. She had asked for it to be weak, and Garret had winked and said that what he was pouring was a harmless European liquor. The talk continued, and so congenial was the company, and so little did she want to leave and return to the cabin that she didn't object when Garret pressed another drink in her hands. Unconsciously she began to unwind from the tenseness of her emotional anguish and she began to relax. She was not one who showed her emotions but rather preferred to bottle them up inside the way her mother had over the years. Not once did Mother complain or cry in spite of the wretched treatment Father had heaped upon her person. She had always kept an exterior of calmness until at last she had had a nervous breakdown and had to be hospitalized.
As she drained the second drink Garret was at her elbow. "Another, perhaps, Ann?"
"I really shouldn't... " she began, but she handed him her glass. The morning continued, and without realizing it, Ann found herself becoming more relaxed and carefree than she had been since the wedding. She began to truly enjoy the company of her new husband and her new shipboard friends. She wasn't conscious of the schnapps' insidious action on the nerve centers of her brain or the marked effect it began to have on her control.
Lunch seemed to come almost immediately. Ann was surprised that the one-drink celebration had turned into a whole morning. Both the Lawsons went to lunch well-inebriated, but neither minded. They were having too good a time! Unfortunately, Ann ate too much of the rich food, and between that, the over-abundance of the schnapps and the rolling sea, she began to get sick.
"Mark... " she said as they left the dining room, "Mark, I'm beginning to feel... woozey." She frowned. "I... I think I had better return to the cabin and lie down for awhile."
"Oh too bad, dearest. Here," he offered, "let me help you."
The idea that Mark might want to make love now with her feeling dizzy and uncomfortable on top of everything else, repulsed her. "No, no, you go on," she quickly replied. "I'll be... just fine... in awhile."
"If anybody should accompany you, Ann, it should be I," said Garret. "After all, I feel responsible."
"But - " Her protest went unheeded, and before either she or Mark could stop Garret, he had placed his hand on Ann's elbow and was guiding her along the passageway in the direction of her cabin.
Mark, befuddled by the schnapps, paused uncertainly then blurted out, "I'll be in the Garret cabin if you want anything."
Garret turned and smiled at Mark, assured and fully in charge now. "She'll be all right," he said smoothly. "She just needs to rest for a few moments."
Ann allowed herself to be escorted to her cabin with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. Vic is a very handsome man, she thought, courteous and thoughtful - not at all like Mark. He is refined, and it shows. He had been more than a gracious host today, for whenever he looked at her he seemed to smile in such a way as to make her think he really appreciated her presence there with him; that she somehow made the morning for him and that it was just a little secret between the two of them. Never a pass, never the slightest overture or remark. Just the smile...
It made up for Mark's crude leerings. He had been falling all over that Ali and Ali was plainly embarrassed by it. She was too nice a woman not to be. What ails the man? Ann asked herself. What would cause Mark to act so inconsiderately of her feelings? It was as if... as if he were another man now that he was married and that the Mark she had for so long dated and loved had been replaced by a complete stranger.
Ali seemed to lead the way back to her cabin even though she was slightly in back of Mark. Her slacks brushed up against him, the whisper of cloth against cloth and the warmth of her body a tantalizing teaser to him. He shook his head. It couldn't mean anything, he told himself; just a mistake... and then her firm ripe breasts slid along his upper arm, and he felt her hot sweet breath in his ear. Christ! What was she doing? Did she know that she was arousing him?
For indeed, as she moved and he pondered those movements, Mark's unsatisfied cock began to grow involuntarily. He mentally commanded his erect member to go back down as it tented the front of his trousers with embarrassing hugeness, but it disobeyed and leaped to greater turgidity. He knew that the back of his neck was burning red with his lewd thoughts, and as they entered the cabin again, he told himself over and over that this mental cheating on his new bride was wrong.
He rubbed his forehead as he slumped to the couch. "I... guess I had more of that schnapps than I should have," he stammered. "I'd better rest for a moment myself."
Ali sat down beside him. "Oh," she purred, "that's such a shame." She placed her hand on his chest and rubbed him lightly as a mother might a sick child. She moved slowly, lovingly, and yet Mark was no child... the pressure of her gently kneading fingers were working magic wonders down below in his groin. His now bloated penis suddenly ached to be released, and billows of swirling desire rose through his thighs, and his testicles flamed with sexual need. He didn't know what to do, what to say. The schnapps had fogged his inhibitions and reasonings, and he was stupefied by her odd, borderline advances.
The Holts also said they were sorry to hear of his bad feelings. "We were going to go up to the boat deck and play shuffleboard," Harriet said.
"You all go ahead... " he said.
"Three can't play, Mark," Ali said, "So I'll stay here with you."
"Fine," Mike Holt nodded, and then he smiled at Ali. Was he also winking? the crazy question darted across Mark's numbed brain. "See you shortly!" He and his wife went not to the regular cabin door, but to Mark's surprise, opened the door which was in the middle of the front bulkhead... a door which Mark had assumed led to a closet. Instead it opened into the adjoining cabin, the Holt's, and he could see that their cabin was similar but smaller than his and the Garret's.
"Sometimes a large family books on the ship, and this way the two cabins can become one large room," explained Ali at seeing - his momentary confusion.
Mark sat back, closing his eyes, the room drifting around him as the schnapps destroyed his will to resist Ali's ever increasingly desirous fondlings. He sunk slowly on this fleecy cloud her fingers caused, and her soothing words were a further euphoria. Surely there is no harm after all, in letting her rub my stomach. It feels so good... so good... what is she saying about my chest? I can't quite make it out...
"Mmmm, you have such a strong body, Mark. So young and strong and virile." Her hands dipped lower, circling and swooping like seagulls. She was rubbing his lower abdomen, past his belt line, and then she said in a throaty whisper, "Do you still have that hard-on, Mark? Is your big prick still up?"
Her electrifying words shattered the dreamlike quality of the schnapps induced stupor. He jerked upright, almost sober. "What? What did you say, Ali?"
"You heard me." Her hand reached down and cupped his groin in one sudden motion, and her eyes lowered to her massaging grip, and she made a mock pout with her pink moist lips. "I knew I got your cock hard when I was walking with you. Why do you think I was rubbing you just now that way Mark?"
"But I... I... " She laughed softly. "I could read your thoughts, too. You want to screw me, don't you? You were thinking how good it would feel to put that monster penis of yours into my hot pussy and fuck me until you shot your cum inside me. Isn't that right?"
Shocked immobile, Mark could only stare at her, his mouth wide. His prick, titillated by her experienced gropings, was throbbing wildly, nearly bursting his underwear. He groaned involuntarily and squirmed slightly under her touch. Why is she talking this way? Is she so oversexed that she can't control her passions, even with strangers? She must be a crazy nymphomaniac to act like this!
"You haven't answered me, Mark," Ali teased, her breath like hot fragrant jasmine upon his fevered brow. "You would like to fuck me, wouldn't you?"
"For... for God's sake, Ali! Control yourself!" he gurgled. "You don't know what you're saying!"
"Oh yes I do!" she sighed huskily. Then she leaned forward and her lips touched his cheek and her tongue was like a molten firebrand as it traced a line around his own lips. Mark was trembling now, trembling and staggering from the impact of this mind-blowing situation. He could feel the rising heat of lust boiling from his genitals, caused by her fingers, her lips, her erotic words.
"Fuck me... fuck me... fuck me... " her sonorous voice commanded. "I want you to fuck me, Mark."
"No... he protested, but his strangled words lacked conviction even to his own ears. This is wrong! All wrong! his seared brain cried out. Stop this now, before it's too late!
"No," he groaningly repeated, "Ali, I won't... " Ali only chuckled at the feeble protest, and she squeezed and stroked his penis and testicles through his pants more passionately. Then she said, "Watch me, Mark! Watch while I take my clothes off!"
In spite of his inner torment, Mark found that he was rooted to the couch, unable to do anything except stare open-mouthed at this luscious creature of Lucifer's harem, and she slowly, oh ever so slowly, got to her feet. She moistened her shiny red lips with the tip of her pink tongue, her eyes lit with some weird illumination of lust, and then crossing her arms in front of her, she lifted the jersey up... up... over her breasts and over her hair. She threw the garment to one side and stood for a moment, letting Mark's fascinated gaze rest upon the twin spheres of her breasts. Her tits were proud, jutting up and out like cornucopias of plenty, their burnish-hued areolas pinpointed by berry-red nipples which were hardened and erect.
She brought her palms up along her sides and cupped each breast tenderly, molding the rich and vibrant flesh with her fingers, tweaking the nipples to marble with her nails. "You want to kiss my breasts, don't you, Mark," she sighed invitingly, never taking her smoldering eyes from his face, "You want to bury your face between them and kiss and lick and suckle... " Mark's throat burst with an involuntary moan, and in spite of his better senses, his hands dipped to his sweltering loins, and he pressed the now-burgeoning gonads tightly with his fingers. "Please... " he begged, "Please don't... " Her only answer was to laugh provocatively and then unzip her shorts. As she opened them down along her side, she continued her masterful incantations of lust. "I don't need bras, Mark... I know you saw that at breakfast this morning. I felt your burning eyes on my breasts, and that is when I wanted you. I want men who are strong and take what they need... and I'm what you need, Mark... I'm the kind of full-blooded woman you need... " With the same tantalizing slowness, she lowered the skin-tight shorts, provocatively slipping them over naked thighs, and then they fell of their own accord down her finely sculptured legs to pool around her feet. She kicked her slippers off as she discarded the pants, and then she stood completely naked before him. "And panties, Mark... I hate to wear panties. I don't like to wear- any more than is absolutely necessary. Do you know that I never wear anything around the house? How would you like a woman to always be naked whenever she's near you, always ready to do as you wanted. Think about it... think... " No... no, I mustn't think about that! How can I not think of it and stop myself from making love to her? She's driving me wild... maybe it's a dream, a wet dream, and I'll wake up and find I am next to my bride...
"And my cunt," Ali said. She dipped her hands to the thin triangle of blonde curls and stroked it lovingly as though it was a beautiful work of art. "You want to kiss my cunt, too, don't you?"
"Noooo... " Mark moaned. And then the final fluttering of resistance left him and his pagan manhood asserted itself, and almost with bestial compulsion, he heard himself cry out, "Yes! Yes! I mean yes, I want to kiss your cunt! I want to! Oh God! Forgive me!"
"Hurry up and undress then, lover. I'll let you kiss me between the legs... lick the honey of my pussy... " And this time the rising eroticism overcame Ali. She had done her job too well, and she moaned with the heat of her own sexual froth. "Hurry!"
Mark was standing now, his hands fumbling with his belt. "But... but your husband! What if he should... ?!"
"Don't worry, lover," she gasped in reply. "We'll use the Holt's cabin. They won't be back for hours. I can guarantee that."
Mark tore at his clothes, his mind completely blanked to all but this provocative female animal before him. The billowing heat of his cock and balls burned the last scrap of sanity. His temples throbbed with the combination of schnapps and passion - was that damned liquor an aphrodisiac, for Christ's sake? - but nothing mattered except that luscious cunt and the release of his bloated sac of sperm. Not his wife, not her husband, nothing! He had to have her! He had to taste and smell that delicious looking vagina, and then he was going to fuck her...
"Fuck!" he yelled out at her as he threw his underpants on the couch. "Fuck you! I'm going to fuck you!" His penis stood out from his thick thatch of pubic hair like a Turkish rapier, its tip an arrowhead of shining desire. A thick droplet of clear seminal lubrication appeared at the single little eye, and his balls hung distended from the weight of the love juice which was soon to follow that drop. His eyes were glassy.
"Ahhh," Ali murmured. "That cock of yours, is as big and beautiful as I pictured it to be, lover. I know it will feel good in me, sliding in and out until my cunt milks the seed of your balls."
She opened the door and stepped backwards into the Holt cabin, her face still mesmerized by his giant prick as it swayed like a fakir's flute does in front of a cobra. Her breath was coming in short hard gasps, and her fingers once more dipped into the soft warm wet pussy and began to slip into the fluted channel of her vagina. She turned and threw herself on the double bunk which was against the outside wall of the Holt's cabin at an angle which cut off the view of the Garret cabin almost entirely. Mark, incensed beyond his own comprehension, staggered after her, giving the door a cursory slam, but at this point not caring whether it shut their carnal embracings from the world's eye or not. All he wanted was her!
Ali squirmed on the bed, moving so that she was in the middle, and then she splayed her legs, and the entire spectrum of her cunt was open to Mark's blazing gaze. It was magnificent, he thought as he approached, a perfectly molded valley of lust with its hair-forested mountains and the soft pink valley of her vagina and the erect bud of her quivering miniature phallus. He could almost taste her clitoris between his teeth, and the way it would tingle as he flicked its tiny nob with his tongue... he groaned and climbed on the bed beside her. Never had he been this excited before!
"Fuck... " he repeated like a crazed animal in heat.
"No... not yet, my love. First kiss me. Kiss my pussy the way you said you would... " She reached her hand down the creamy flesh of her naked front and rubbed the side of Mark's sweating cheek - and then wrapped her fingers in his hair and pulled his questing mouth down between her open legs. She could hear him moaning, and he needed no further urging. He opened his lips and pushed hard against the wetness of her hungry dilated pussy as he rapaciously tongued her vaginal furrow. Ali squirmed and cried out in ecstasy from his sudden contact. His tongue snaked out like an invading infidel, lashing the part of her tender flowering folds and branding the sensitive inner walls of her vagina with white-hot fire. She jerked forward at the teasing thrust and then lay back and ground her buttocks into the mattress as her vulva was bathed by Mark's swirling face. Her cuntal passage contracted and relaxed, opened and closed like a squeezing hand around his tongue, threatening to imprison it forever.
Suddenly he stopped. He raised his head and grinned mesmerically up the writhing expanse of her body at her. .
"Don't stop... " she moaned.
"I won't," he promised, and dipped back to the seething aromatic slit running between her widespread thighs.
CHAPTER THREE
Ann went into the bathroom as soon as Vic Garret had escorted her back to her and Mark's cabin. She washed her face with some cold water from the tap and ran a comb through her long black hair. She felt sticky from the heat, and imagined that she was giving off an offensive odor in spite of the deodorant and feminine hygiene spray and Eau de Navets, an expensive French cream sachet she had used upon arising that morning.
She stepped out into the cabin and crossed to the six-drawer dresser between the two wall bunks. Garret, sitting in one of the chairs at the table, smoking a cigarette, said in a bright voice, "Feeling a little better, Ann?"
"A little," she admitted, although her mind was still somewhat woozy from the schnapps she had consumed. "I'm going to change into some fresh clothing."
"That's a good idea," said Garret. "How's your stomach, by the way?"
"It feels as if it's curdled," she told him ruefully. "I probably should take an Alka-Seltzer or something... "
"I've a better idea," Garret said smoothly.
"Oh? What's that?"
"I know of just the thing to settle that queasiness. Best remedy in the world for an upset stomach. I'll ring for Kurt and have him bring some down while you're changing; we've taken this cruise before - this very boat, in fact - and I know they have some on hand."
"Well... " said Ann dubiously, but the ship seemed to pitch slightly at that moment, enhancing her nauseousness. She said quickly then, "All right, Vic, if you think it'll help."
"I can practically guarantee that it will bring results," Garret grinned with easy assurance.
Ann located a cool, sleeveless summer dress with a short skirt and a fresh change of panties and bra. She smiled hesitantly at Garret as she stepped past him and entered the bathroom, closing and locking the door with an automatic gesture behind her.
Garret watched the easy movement of her smooth rounded buttocks under the skirt she now wore with hot, gleaming eyes. His prick seemed to give a convulsive leap in his pants. Son of a bitch! he thought eagerly. She's some fine little piece, all right. It would really be nice to get my cock into that tight little cunt of hers, damned nice. The way she looked at breakfast this morning, it's a cinch that she was a cherry before last night... and the way she walked proves that old Mark really threw the balls to her. Hell, I don't blame him; if she was my woman, I would have fucked her until she couldn't walk!
Garret leaned forward to stub out his cigarette, then got to his feet and crossed to where an assistance buzzer was set into the wall by one of the two closets in the cabin. He depressed it and then stepped to the door, opening it and moving out into the companion way. Moments later, the fat and smiling Chief Steward, Kurt Romer, appeared.
In a low conspiratorial voice, Garret said, "A double B&B, Kurt. Right away." He winked.
Romer nodded, and his smile was almost a leer. "As you wish, Herr Garret." He hurried off down the companionway.
Garret grinned to himself, re-entered the Lawson's cabin, and closed the door. He resumed his position on the chair and lighted another cigarette. B&B, he thought. Brandy and Benedictine. There's no more powerful liqueur - or aphrodisiac. It'll settle sweet little Ann's stomach, all right, and put some fire into that tight young cunt of hers, too! I'll tell her it's a special concoction; she's gullible enough to believe it, and she won't be able to taste the alcohol at all...
His grin widened, and he felt his cock give another jump. If everything went according to the norm, then his wife Ali should have managed to get Mark Lawson into a compromising position by now. Ali was a damned alluring woman, and you just couldn't refuse her once she turned the charm on you; not if you were a normal, red-blooded male, and that's just what Mark Lawson had looked to be. Garret had to admit that Ali was probably the most provocative woman he had ever known - hell, that was why he had married her in the first place! - and that she could fuck like Cleopatra must have fucked. She'd be giving old Mark the ride of his young life right about now, he'd have been willing to lay odds on that...
The thought of his voluptuous wife getting fucked by another man made Garret's cock harden like it always did when he pictured the scene. Christ, but he was hornier than a three-peckered billy goat right now! True, he'd thrown a good screw into Ali last night, while they'd been steaming out of Boston, and she'd blown him for an hour after that - but that didn't alter the fact that there was new quail to be had. And once the scent of untapped resources was in his nostrils, then he was like a bloodhound on the trail...
But he would have to play it cool with this Ann Lawson. She was an innocent from the word go, and he would have to be careful that he didn't frighten her off. The B&B was assurance of the success of his proposed venture, though he had all the confidence many years of experience could instill in a swinger like himself...
There was a knock on the door, and Kurt came in with the double B&B. Tie placed it on the table, nodded slyly to Garret, and left as silently as he was expected to; he had had the pleasure of being Chief Steward on two other voyages which the Garrets had taken in past years.
Moments later, the bathroom door opened and Ann came out, looking fresh and radiant in the cool summer dress. Garret noted cunningly that her eyes were still somewhat glazed from the schnapps, however; the B&B was going to do the trick, all right, he thought with smug superiority.
But his voice was soft and disarming as he said, "You look great, Ann. Fresh as a daisy."
"I'm not sure I feel fresh as a daisy just yet," she told him with a rueful smile. "My stomach is still all fluttery... "
"We'll fix that right up," assured Garret, getting to his feet and picking up the slender glass of dark bronze liquid Kurt had placed on the table.. "Here you go, Ann. Just drink it down, and before you know it you'll be ready to take on a pizza with a side order of German potato salad."
Ann made a face. "Ugh!" she said. She took the proffered glass, staring at the contents. "Will this taste bad?"
"Okay," shrugged Ann. She lifted the glass to her lips, closed her eyes, and drained it in one swallow. She shuddered violently, put the glass down, and then smiled weakly at Garret. "Whew! That's strong, whatever it is."
"Just a little of Dr. Garret's patented snake oil," he chided. "Wasn't bad, though, was it?"
"No, not really." Ann sat down in the chair facing him, declined the cigarette he offered her. There was a hot glow in her stomach that was spreading rapidly through her body, and her eyes watered. But the flutterings in her stomach seemed to have abated somewhat, and she decided the concoction Garret had given her was effective after all. I really shouldn't have drunk all that schnapps, she thought woozily. I really shouldn't have...
Noticing the effects of the B&B with a satisfied inward smirk, Garret said, "If you feel better now, Ann, let's take a walk back to my cabin and join Ali and Mark."
"Well... all right," she said agreeably. "Might as well, I guess. But then let's all go up on deck and look at the ocean, okay?"
"Whatever you'd like," Garret told her. He got to his feet and took her arm, helping her up. Ann noticed that she was still walking unsteadily, but her stomach felt just fine now; she allowed him to lead her out of the cabin and down the companionway and up the stairs to the Garett's cabin on the boat deck.
As soon as Garret had opened the door and looked inside, seeing the sundry pieces of clothing strewn about, he knew that Ali had things well in hand - or in cunt, he grinned to himself. He guided Ann inside, shut the door, and then feigned a concerned frown. "What's all this?" he asked her.
Ann was having difficulty focusing her eyes, but finally she managed to make out the articles of clothing cast about on the floor and on the furniture. "Why... why," she stammered, "that looks like the... the clothes Mark and... and your wife were wearing!"
"So it does," Garret said with mock anger. "Come on, let's see what's going on around here!"
He steered Ann across to the connecting door between his cabin and the Holts', noting as he approached that it stood slightly ajar, giving a clear view of the Holts' wide double bunk. And of the panting, sweating activity on its rumpled spread.
"Holy Jesus Christ!" he whispered. "Look, Ann! My God, look at what's going on in there!"
Again, the young bride had difficulty in focusing her eyes. But then the swimming images localized, and she saw what Garret saw. She froze, froze into a shocked, hump-backed stance with a small cry of total horror slipping involuntarily from her slim throat. It was as if she had had the breath knocked out of her, for she was completely incapable of any kind of movement, any kind of sound. Her eyes bulged wide, uncomprehendingly.
The tableau which burned the retinas of her eyes was one of an age-old pagan ritual, a ritual known as cunnilingus. Oral-genital contact, a man s face pressed between a woman's wide-splayed legs, tongue flicking up and down her swollen furrow, in and out of her glistening vagina while she held his short, brown hair clenched in her fingers, pressing him tighter there. Cunnilingus... all the tittering, blushing, whispered terms for it: going down on, eating out, licking pussy, the ultimate French kiss... all of these echoed and re-echoed in Ann's terror-shocked brain as she stared at the slaving man and jerking woman on the bunk.
The woman was Ali Garret.
And the man was Mark, her Mark, her new husband, the man she had fallen in love with and married, his face shining wet with Ali's lubricating fluid, his tongue dipping and darting and washing, his face contorted mindlessly with unbearable lust...
Ann's mind tried to reject the sickening sight, the unbelievable horror, but the moving image remained to sear her eyeballs. She took a half-step backward, knowing that she must flee, get away from the disgusting carnal abuse which was so flagrantly being enacted before her and the husband of the woman on the bunk. But Garret caught her, held her in such a way that her eyes remained fastened on the madly twisting couple on the spread.
"Oooooohhhhhh!" she heard Ali mewl, flailing her short blonde head from side to side. "That's it, lover, that's ittt! Oh suck it, suck it, suck it, lover, lick my pussy, shove that long hot tongue of yours all the way up my flaming cunt...!"
"Mmmmmmmmmm!" she heard the strangled gasp of her suckling husband reply, his hands spreading Ali's thighs yet wider to expose more of her naked loins to his slavering face and darting tongue.
Look at that son of a bitch go! Garret thought. He's really working over her cunt with his mouth! Probably the first pussy he's ever gone down on. Garret's cock was rigid now as he held Ann's arms tightly, standing just a little in back of her; the bulge of his turgid shaft in his trousers swelled way out almost but not quite touching her swelling buttocks beneath the summer dress. He moved closer, guiding her backward gently, and she didn't resist him. She seemed to lean gratefully back against his unyielding body, unmindful that her buttocks were now resting against the swelling head of his cock, causing it to swell ever larger and emit a spot of seminal fluid. The only thing she knew in that moment, the only reality of which she was cognizant in her liquor-fogged brain, was the grim and obscene sight which assailed her vision.
Mark, that's Mark, my husband, and he's lying with his face pressed between the legs of a woman he's only known for a few hours... kissing her... her vagina, licking her between her legs like some vile and perverted animal. Oh God, it can't be true, it can't, it can't, it can't! I'm having a nightmare, an awful impossible nightmare.
Garret was holding her more tightly now, moving his erect penis up and down along the smooth warm curves of her rounded buttocks. He was breathing harshly against her neck, and he knew that she felt neither his cock nor his hot breath on her flesh at that moment; but she would, damned right she would... He moved his mouth close to her ear, began to intone in soft sibilant words, "Look at them, Ann. Look at them in there, look at my wife and your husband. Look at the way he's kissing her, Ann, look at the way he's kissing Ali between her legs... He's enjoying himself, Ann, he's enjoying himself with my wife, kissing her and licking her and sucking her... " Shut up, shut up, shut up! Ann's turmoiled brain cried out. She tried to put voice to the command, but she found that she was incapable of speech. Oh God, why are you talking that way? Can't you see that I know the... the filthy things they're doing without your telling me? Have you no shame? Dear God, I don't want to watch any more of this, I don't want to hear any more, I want to get away, get away...
Suddenly, Mark pulled his head from between Ali's legs and stared up at her with obscene features and glittering eyes. "I'm going to fuck you now!" he told her in a strangled gasp, licking her cuntal emissions from his lips with his tongue. "My cock is going to burst and I'm going to cum all over the bed if I don't! I'm going to fuck you, Ali, fuck you, fuck you, fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkkk!"
"Oh yes, fuck me, Mark! Put your big hard cock in my cunt, shove it into my belly, fuck it, lover, cum inside me, cum inside my cunt and my belly!"
Ann wanted to raise her hands to her ears, blot out the terrible vileness of the two lusting people's words, but she was unable to move her arms in Garret's vise-like grip. Horrified, she watched Mark raise up onto all fours, taking his bloated, blood-enraged penis in his hand as he had done to her the night before, and lean forward to tease the angry, hardened head over the slippery folds of Ali's pussy, made wet with her juices and his saliva. He poised it at the gaping door of her waiting vagina, and then Ali levered up, taking the head inside the , pink, petaled lips - and Mark hammered down with a brutal thrust of his hips to send his immense cudgel flashing the length of her waiting channel, filling it, the hard head slamming savagely up into her cervix.
"Uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhh!" screamed Ali. "Oh yessss, that's it, that's the way to fuck me, lover! Give it to me, yes like that, give it to me, fuck my cunt, fuck ittttttt!"
Mark was grunting like a hog as he thrust again and again into Ali's upthrust furrow, his huge hairy balls smacking loudly into her moistened anal crevice, her buttocks churning wildly as she sought to milk his cock of his huge, ever-building load of cum.
Noooooo! Ann's mind wailed. Please God, don't let me see any more of this sickness, don't make me watch another second of it! I'll die if I see any more, hear any more! I'll die, I will, I know it! Oh please, I can't stand it, I can't stand it!
But still she couldn't command her body to break free of Garret's grasp; still she couldn't do anything but stand and helplessly watch the flagrant lovemaking being performed before her young eyes. And behind her, rubbing his burgeoning prick up and down over the satiny surface of her buttocks, Garret whispered, "Look at them, Ann, watch them. Watch them making love. Watch them performing the act of love, Ann. Watch them, watch them, watch them... " And suddenly, Ann was watching them - not in the abject horror of moments earlier, but hypnotically, feeling strange sensations churning through her body, mindless to all but the lewd perverse relationship of her husband and Ali Garret. She stared at Mark's long, hard, glistening penis sawing in and out of the blonde woman's hungrily clasping vaginal orifice, in and out, in and out, and in her ear Garret kept whispering, "In and out, in and out, Ann, look at your husband sliding in and out of my wife... it must feel good for him and for her, Ann, it must feel so very good for both of them, in and out, in and out, in and out... " Then Garret's hands were moving on her bare arms, moving up and down the smooth velvety surface from wrists to shoulders, and Ann began to tremble under his hands. What's happening to me? she thought numbly. Oh, God, what's happening to me? I feel so strange, my stomach feels fluttery again but not like I'm going to be sick... and my... my vagina seems to be wet and tingling, almost as if... as if I was somehow sexually aroused by all this disgusting filth...
One of Garret's hands left her arm and moved along her sides and across the flat, tensed plane of her stomach to poise under the globular swell of one of her breasts. And then, slowly, insinuatingly, the palm of his hand moved upward to cup her warm, spongy tit, cup it without kneading for a moment and then begin to squeeze and manipulate the succulent flesh ..with gentle ease, thumb running across the uptilted peak to raise the tiny nipple into distended, quivering arousal.
Ann's liquor-dazed, shock-dazed mind comprehended then, He... he's touching my breast, Vic is playing with my breast! No, I have - to stop him, he hasn't the right to touch me like that! He... he must be sick, sick as Mark and Ali in there, I have to stop him... But she couldn't move; it was as if she no longer had control of her own body, was unable to use any of her muscles at all; as if her brain was frozen completely. And then she became aware of a hardness moving along her buttocks, moving up and down as Mark's cock was sliding in and out of Ali in ever-increasing fervor. It... it's Vic's penis! My God, his penis is hard, erect, and he's rubbing it along my buttocks! Oh God, I must run, run, run and find someone to help me!
But she remained rigid, her eyes seared by the terrible obscene twistings and cries of the couple of the double bunk, her brain a tumbling, confused mass of emotions and liquor haze. Garret's hand continued to squeeze her breast, was joined by his other hand to cup and knead both tender globes while he pressed his erect cock tighter into the soft rounded moons of her buttocks, grinding it lewdly into the crevice between them.
"My wife and your husband, Ann honey," he whispered against her ear. "So good, them together, making love, fucking, Ann, that's what they're doing, fucking, fucking and liking every second of it, fucking, in and out, in and out, it feels good for them the same way my hands on your breasts feel good for you, the same way my hard cock feels good for you, Ann I want to do the same thing to you that Mark is doing to Ali, to my wife, I want to do the same thing to his wife that he is doing to mine... " Noooooooooo! Ann's tortured, turmoiled mind howled in confused agony. No, I can't do such a thing! The very idea should make me vomit, should make me run, run, but I can't run and it doesn't disgust me, sicken me, the way it should... Am I crazy? Have the events of the past few minutes caused me to lose my mind?
Her nipples were quivering distended nubs of arousal now; strange sensations which were new to Ann in that they were almost overpowering in their magnitude rippled through her lower belly, consuming her tight young pussy with a raging inferno of rising passion. Involuntarily, her firm young hips began to churn back against Garret's hardened prick, drawing it tighter into the soft yielding valley between her buttocks, moving her chest so that her nipples rubbed hard against his probing thumbs. Breath began to spew in jagged gasps from between her tightly clenched teeth, and from ..her flared nostrils, and her glazed eyes were locked on the wildly fucking couple in the other room. It was as if some alien force had seized control of her mind, her body, her will - was forcing the entity that was Ann Lawson to submit to the lewd suggestions of Vic Garret and to forever watch the perverted lovemaking between her husband and Ali Garret. She was no longer her own master; she was a puppet in the hands of some strange and more powerful creature... lust!
Garret bent Ann forward slightly with the pressure of his body, his hands working feverishly on her swollen breasts and his hips grinding against her own undulating buttocks. He held her in that position for a moment, whispering lewd words into her ear in his mesmeric voice, and then he took one hand from one of her breasts and drew back slightly. He took the hem of her short summer dress and moved it slowly, teasingly upward to expose her bare thighs - higher and higher until the tightly-encased twin orbs of loveliness which ( were her ass cheeks came into view. He bunched the dress around her waist, letting it hang free below, and then his nimble fingers were rubbing slowly, exploringly, over the silky softness of her panties, tracing each buttock with the tip of his index finger and then tracing the cleft between them until a low, almost inaudible moan twisted itself from Ann's throat.
"It feels good, doesn't it, Ann?" Garret asked as he played with her smooth voluptuous flanks. "My fingers feel good on you, just like your husband's penis feels good inside my wife, feels good, feels good... " Yes, feels good, feels good, answered Ann's brain in automatic response, and it did feel good - so good the sensations his hands were causing in her breasts and between her legs, so new and wonderful these sensations...
Now Garret's fingers were inside the waistband of her panties, pulling them down, down over her now involuntarily undulating ass moons, exposing the glistening wetness which was her excited cunt nestled in the low valley, hair-fringed and enticing. He drew the flimsy nylon material down over her thighs, parting her legs slightly as he did so, down over her knees to puddle finally around her ankles. Then he squatted and lifted first one dainty foot, and the other, tossing the moist garment to one side. Raising up again, he began to stroke her now naked buttocks softly with his fingertips.
Ann was breathing so harshly now, she felt sure the jerking couple in the other room could surely hear her - not that it mattered if they did, for she was too far gone with liquor and arousal to care at that moment; she was consumed totally by these new and powerful emotions seething through her innocent young being. But neither Mark nor Ali would have heard a cannon firing at that moment, for both were striving with every fibre of their being for mutual release, moaning and slashing at one another with twisting, thrusting, hammering loins and buttocks. The wet, slurping sounds of Mark's axe-handle size prick pistoning in and out of her lubricious, flowering cunt were violently loud, and his huge sperm-bloated testicles seemed to crack like pistol shots as they bounced off her wet, upturned ass cheeks. Ali's fingernails dug harshly into his back, and Mark's own hands were cupped under her flanks, kneading and squeezing the flesh and assisting the clasping muscles of her vagina in milking and clutching his hammering cudgel.
"Cum, cum, cum, cum!" Ali chanted in his ear. "Cum, baby, cum, baby, cum, baby, cuuummmmmmm!"
"Fuck you harder, got to fuck you harder!" Mark chanted back with insane lust, increasing his jamming, savage assault on her wide-splayed pussy.
"I'm going to love you now, Ann," Garret whispered into the ear of the confused and shocked and intoxicated young bride. "I'm going to put it inside you and love you and love you and love you... " Oh Yes, I want to be loved... please love me, I want to be loved so bad, please please love meeeeeee!
Garret pushed her now unresisting body forward and down until she was kneeling on all fours and pulled the crevice of her tight, firm buttocks wide apart with his sure, quick fingers, revealing more of the salaciously enticing furrow between her sweet young legs. His other hand left her breast now to assist, spreading the valley still wider, so that her tiny puckered anus seemed to widen deliciously before his lusting eyes. He trailed one finger around and around the nether ring, causing Ann to groan in mindless torment, and then dipped it down into the moist, fur-lined slit, his middle finger extended. He teased that finger down and under and into the tight, incredibly soft cuntal opening of the young bride, moving with maddening slowness along the anterior wall of her cunt and then slipping out to move to the aroused and rigid bud of her clitoris. Ann mewled with subservient delight at the increased tinglings of desire his expert ministrations were sending through her - so good, it feels sooooo good to be caressed tenderly and lovingly, so good not to be treated like some bitch in heat, to be loved, loved, loved...
At that moment, Garret removed his one hand from her vaginal crevice, maintaining his stroking of her clitoris with the other, and there was the soft whisper of his zipper being drawn down, From a far corner of Ann's mind came a warning bell which portended danger, terror; still, she was unable to equate the danger in her liquored confusion and her passion, and the caressing finger felt so wonderful in her young aroused pussy...
Garret, his huge bloated cock filled with swirling blood and hot semen ready to erupt, pressed forward to tease the hard, rubbery tip into the moist cleft and down toward where his finger was sliding into the hot, wet folds of Ann's cunt. She felt it slip along there, opening and closing her legs involuntarily, almost spastically around his invading finger while she watched with filmed eyes her husband fuck Ali Garret. Then Garret worked the smooth rubbery head of his lust-hardened penis into her trembling furrow, replacing his finger with it at the door to Ann's sweet, tender womanhood.
He had to force himself not to plunge forward at that moment, shove his great hard cock into her tight little cunt and impale her with a triumphant cry of victory. No, he had to go slow, go careful; she was still a cherry for all practical purposes, having only had her maidenhead split the night before probably. Go slow, don't scare her, don't snap her out of the trance his words and the shocking sight before their eyes had put her in - that was how he had to play it. Then it would be good! Christ, it would really be good to shove his cock into that tight little hole and blow his nuts in this sweet little honey's belly! Oh Jesus, this was going to be the best fuck he'd ever had, all right... !
Slowly, tantalizingly, he worked the tingling head of his cock up and down her soft, hair-lined slit, up and down, up and down while the pressure in his balls climbed and soared. He forced himself, gritting his teeth, to go slow, slow, but it was fast becoming too much to bear; Ann's young velveteen ass was unconsciously undulating back against him with growing excitement, and she was moaning and panting, running her hands up and down her sides where her dress bunched at her waist in spasmodic motion. And the folds of her young cunt were soft, so soft, as soft as warm flowing honey around the head of his prick...
At last he could stand it no longer. He whispered urgently against her ear, "I'm going to do it now, Ann honey, I'm going to put it in and love you. I'm going to love you now, Ann, my sweet little girl... " Ann sucked in her breath in anticipation, his gentle words relaxing her, making her cunt flower wider and secrete more juices around the head of his penis. She spread her legs wider at his command whispered in her ear, and he pressed her torso downward slightly to give him more access to her exposed vagina. Then, slowly, he edged forward, sliding his cock into her sensitive, elastic hole, getting the head all the way in, reveling in her sweet tender flesh. He pressed forward, gritting his teeth still harder to keep from slamming every last throbbing inch of his cock home in one brutal lunge; another half-inch slid inside the resisting passage, and another, and she was so warm and wet and wonderful around his trembling rod of flesh. Another half-inch, another...
It's going inside me, filling me up, Ann thought vaguely, as the sensations of desire reduced her to a quivering, seething bundle of soft womanhood. But it feels good, so hot and warm and good going slowly inside me... it doesn't hurt, it doesn't feel bad, it's not like an animal sliding into me, not like Mark raping me... oh yes, it's so nice, sooooooo nice, yes this is what making love really is, oooooooooooo!
Easily, gently, Garret insinuated more and more of his burgeoning prick into the almost-virginal cunt of the young girl. His balls hung like lead weights, filled with his swirling cum, and he knew that once he got all the way in and started to stroke, he was going to pop his wad right away. There was just no controlling it, but then who gave a good piss? He was going to cum inside this fine young piece, he was going to fuck Miss Ann good, and that was all that mattered. Another inch, just another inch, and then he would be all the way in...
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," Ann moaned softly as, at last, Garret's sweating loins slipped the last inch forward and pressed firmly against her upraised ass cheeks - and all of his great cock lay buried in the warm, wet sheath of her young cunt. Oh God, all the way in, it feels good...
Garret let his prick rest imbedded in her tunnel for a moment, feeling its warm, moistened walls clasping his cock like a soft, tight fist. Then, he withdrew, withdrew until only the head lay within the warmth of her cunt; he stared down at his glistening shaft, slick with her lubrication, grinning obscenely at the way her soft, hair-lined cunt lips puckered out around the swollen head of his cock. He couldn't take it any more, he just couldn't - he plunged forward!
"Uuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh!" cried Ann softly. "Oooh, God!" And then Garret was moving, his hips driving forward, his hands kneading and squeezing her ass cheeks. His long, hard cock flashed up into her now-widened cuntal tunnel, the channel being accustomed to its girth by this time, flashed in and out just as Mark's prick was flashing in and out of Ali's heaving pussy. And she thought: It doesn't hurt, even when he moves fast like that, lean feel every inch of him worming into me and it doesn't hurt... oooooo, it feels so good and my... my vagina feels so... so strange...
She watched with lust-filmed eyes the actions on the bed in the other room, watched Mark slam into the blond woman with demoniacal force, drawing his heavy cock nearly out of the tight, moist sheath clasping at it hungrily, then plunging down again until his bloated balls slapped ruthlessly down against her tiny puckered anus. Ali's legs twitched, her toes curling on the bed as she lurched her loins up to receive him even deeper into her cunt. Then, suddenly, her legs jackknifed straight up into the air, and a low, thin wail bubbled from her lips. She was there; she was cumming! Her fists beat and pounded on Mark's back as her orgasm seized control of her body, and she seemed to be jerking as if with the St. Vitus dance, her lips pulled back to expose her gleaming white teeth.
Then Mark cried out, "Oh Jesus, oh Jesus, I'm going... going to cum, going to cum, cccuuuuuummmmmmmmmmm!" His body froze in midstroke, and then hurtled downward again in insane fury as his own climax struck and his semen came spewing out of his balls like fire out of a blowtorch, inundating her cervix with his seed, filling her pussy to overflowing; his hot sticky white cum flowed out and around his plunging cock to commingle with Ali's juices and form a puddle on the rumpled spread beneath their sweating, heaving bodies... Finally, he collapsed forward over Ali, and she wrapped her satiated legs around him in thankfulness, cooing her delight in his ear...
Garret's loins bucked and twisted against the kneeling Ann's upturned buttocks as he watched his wife and Mark cumming in the other room. That was all he could take; he couldn't hold out any more. He drove into the young bride with long looping, buttock flattening strokes that seemed to receive power from the tips of his toes, his balls churning and banging into her sweaty crevice below. Any second now, any second now, any second now...
And suddenly, without warning, Garret emitted a guttural mewling sound and his balls erupted like Mt. Vesuvius, sending great torrents of his bubbling seed spilling into Ann's tight, clasping pussy; he kneaded her buttocks convulsively, wrapping the hot moist flesh tighter around his wildly jerking cock as he came. Jesus, it was just like he'd known it would be! She was good, so good, sooooo goooooddddddd!
Ann, her turmoiled mind half-crazy with the new and consuming sensations flooding her body, buffeted insanely back against the heaving body of Vic Garret. She felt the hot warm liquid jerking from his penis then, felt it filling her, hot and flowing like warm oil in her pussy, and it was a feeling she had never known before, a feeling of such ecstasy that she opened her mouth in a wide, soundless scream. She heard but did not hear the slurping sounds of his ejaculating penis sawing in and out of her pussy, the harsh smacking of his balls against her flailing ass cheeks, and her body trembled and vibrated with growing, pinwheeling heat...
And then - And then her orgasm struck!
Great flashes of polychromatic lights burst in back of her eyes, and pleasure so acute it was as pure as pain consumed every fibre of her being. It was as if she was totally reduced to a churning mass of jelly in that single instant. Her wide-opened mouth worked soundlessly for a long moment as Garret continued to burst his cum into her pussy, and then her mental scream found voice and a sound almost unearthly in its magnitude spiraled out of her throat, a sound of wild undulating ecstasy...
"AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIEEEEE AAAAGGGGHH!"
CHAPTER FOUR
Ann's cry of release, as loud and tremulous as it was, did not pass unnoticed by Mark's satiated brain. He was aware it was his own wife's howl of orgasm, and for a split second he was torn by the fear that he had been discovered by Garret, or perhaps that the Holts had returned and Harriet had fainted in dead shock. He raised his head, eyes wide with fright, shaking the vestiges of comotoseness from him, the wild thought of how and where to escape rampant in his mind.
Then, with terrifying clarity, he saw his wife. Ann! He had been found out by Ann! Oh God, no! Then, as his emotions took another scan of the tableau, he realized that she was NOT standing there in horror, fully clothed and righteously indignant; no, she was NOT gaping, wide-eyed, at his indiscretions, ready to bolt with tear-filled agony. No, SHE WAS AS GUILTY AS HE WAS!
Every nerve and fiber of his body reeled with the impact of his view. On her all-fours in the doorway of the cabin, writhing in some kind of sick and perverted danse macabre, and behind her was the kneeling figure of Vic Garret.
"What... what is going on... " he stammered, frowning, his eyes uncomprehending bulges of sheer torment. Then he saw the whole lewd, filthy picture for what it was... for as he stared open-mouthed at the couple, Garret slowly moved backwards on his haunches and his mammoth, still red, still rock-hard penis slipped wetly from the backsides of Mark's bride! In one blinding flash, Mark realized that Vic Garret had just finished fucking his wife! That she had offered up to this stranger her naked crotch for his frenzied thrusts - and suddenly, as quickly as he absorbed the lascivious scene, an unreasoning anger seized him. He emitted an animal like growl and flung himself from the bed; hurt, disgust, hate, and disbelief all swirling emotions in his maddened brain. He wasn't aware that Ali had rolled over and was watching from the bed in soft, mocking laughter.
Mark crossed to his wife in three long steps, and as she raised her face to him, he backhanded her savagely across the mouth. "You whore!" he yelled at her, "You goddamned slut!"
Ann staggered upright, flinging a hand across her burning lips. White, viscous semen from Garret's orgasm trickled from her pink cuntal opening and down her inner thighs.
"Mark! Mark, I... " Mark turned on Garret then, who was still kneeling on the floor with a contented grin on his mouth. "And you, you bastard! I ought to kill you for doing this to her!"
"Why, Mark?" he asked calmly. Garret rose and faced him. "Why should you want to kill me?"
"For... for... " gasped the irate Lawson. His hands clasped and unclasped at his sides. "For... THIS!"
"For fucking your wife?" Garret taunted.
"Yes!" Mark blurted, his face grimacing at the descriptive word.
"In that case, don't I have the right to kill you first? Because weren't you making love to my wife before I was doing it to Ann?" Garret seemed to grow in height, to tower over Mark as he continued. "Well? Where is all your great indignation now, lover boy! Aren't you more naked than I, caught in the same situation as I? And isn't it true that you paid no heed to my feelings when you were fucking my woman? Well?"
Mark was struck speechless, and for a moment he could only writhe on the still spit of Garret's barbequing words. "I... I... " Mark choked, "I know that what I did was wrong! And I'm sorry about it... now!"
Ann couldn't contain herself any longer. "Oh please, Mark!" she cried out to him, "Please forgive me! You're a man, and I can understand... but I don't know what came over me! It was a mistake! A horrible mistake!"
Mark looked over at his lovely bride, and the agony of her miserableness made him cringe inwardly. He slowly, robot-like, collected his strewn clothing and, sitting down in a chair, began to put his shirt and pants back on. All the while he moaned, "No... no, oh no, oh no!"
"Oh, come on, Mark," Ali suddenly said from the bed. "Don't take it so hard. I mean, this kind of thing is done all the time by the best of families. In cities, suburbs, even in farm communities, people are finding out the benefits of just what we engaged in. Sometimes it's called wife-swapping, other times group sex; but whatever the name it's a way of heightening physical pleasure and teaching new avenues of love for one's own mate."
"It's sick... depraved... " moaned Mark. Ann, beaten and in abject humiliation, slowly bent to retrieve her panties. They were on the floor, like a tattered white flag of surrender, mute testimony to the degradation to which she had fallen. Sanity seemed to return to her slowly, for the shock of seeing Mark make love to Ali, coupled with her own illicit orgasm, and then added to the still smarting rejection by her husband, was too much for her dazed, benumbed senses to handle. The only thought in her mind was to flee this sinful den of perversion and never return. Even though she had caught Mark in the act of adultery, she realized that it did not give her the right to practice that horrid rite herself.
She whirled around, tears of self-abasement running rampant down her cheeks, and if it had not, been for the quick, restraining hand of Garret upon her arm, she would have rushed out the door.
"Hey! Not so fast, Ann," he said softly. "There's a few things I want to say to you and your husband. Sit down, please."
"There's nothing you can say! Not now!" she screamed in retortion. "Let me go! I want to leave, do you hear? Please, let me gooo!" Cascading streams poured down from her eyes as she struggled in Garret's grip. All she wanted was to run... run anywhere and die. Her marriage of only a few hours was finished, dead - as dead as she was inside, for the innocent virgin bride of the night before was now a common street whore, nothing save a chalice for evil men and their seed. Yet as she wrestled for her freedom, she realized there was nowhere she could go. She was trapped on this freighter, as trapped as if it had been designed as her own personal hell. She had to face her punishment, like it or not, and finally she ceased her squirmings and allowed Garret to lead her to the couch. She sat, dejected, averting her eyes from her husband's burning stare of loathing and hatred.
"That's better," Garret said. "Now you two listen to me for a minute. First of all, you, Ann, asked Mark to forgive you."
"Yes, yes I did," she moaned, her head dropping to her hands, "I do want him to forgive me, but I know he won't. He can't!"
"Nonsense! He shouldn't have to forgive you for the same reason you shouldn't forgive him. There's nothing to forgive!"
Mark jumped to his feet, his dark eyes flashing. "What do you mean, nothing to forgive? We... we were like rutting animals, for God's sake! No better than a bunch of... of... "
"Of normal turned-on human beings," interjected Garret. "Sit down and hear me out before you start calling names." He waited until Lawson had settled himself in glum, resentful silence again, and then continued. "Now face facts, kids. You enjoyed that little act with us. didn't you?" He waited for a dramatic moment, but received no answers. "Well, I certainly didn't hear any complaints while you were doing it, now did I? Of course not! That's because you were having one hell of a ball, and if you'd be honest with yourselves, you'd admit it. Sex is fun, kids. It feels good. It's supposed to, and that's the gist of my whole argument. Once, procreation was the most important thing about sex, but nowadays, there's more kids than we know what to do with. The population explosion, right? And we have the Pill and other effective means to stop more population without stopping the kicks."
"But marriage," broke in Ann in a dazed, broken shell of a voice. "The sacraments... love... fidelity... "
"We believe that by participating with others enhances our love for one another," Ali said in answer. "I don't think you could find a more devoted, happier couple than Vic and I. Group sex has added a new dimension of excitement and competitiveness which strict monogamy never could. You abandon unnecessarily binding restrictions and give yourself to the gratification of your desires, but when you're with your own husband, as I am with Vic, you want to put more into it. Your heart and soul, and that makes the loving better than anybody else's. And isn't that what marriage is all about?"
Ann sat in a mindless turmoil, trying to sort her upheavaled thoughts. The arguments for the pagan kind of amoral life which the Garrets seemingly lived battled her own ingrained precepts. It was wrong... she knew it was wrong... or was it? She had climaxed with Garret's male member inside her body, and it was obvious, all too obvious, that Mark had enjoyed making love to Ali. She shook her head, confused. So much had happened in so short a time...
"I think that the trouble lies in the fact that both of you have been brought up to view sex as fundamentally dirty. And that love, combined with sex, is a possessive kind of hold over your mate, rather than an expression of freedom. I'm sorry if that's the case. I can't accept that, nor that by sharing your mate you spoil your possession. I believe that sex is a clean, natural, open way of getting to know somebody else better."
"Think about it, at least," Ali added. She curled up in the sheets, looking like a soft kitten ready to take a nap after a satisfying meal. "This may be something you'll never try again, and how you decide is strictly your business."
Ann, seeming to find a newfound courage and curiosity, turned in her seat and looked at Ali. "How - I mean, have you been... that is, when did you begin?"
"When I met Vic. I was married at the time, to a big lug who was the lousiest bed-partner in the world. We lived in one of Vic's buildings. Anyway, Vic and I met, and well, I fell in love with him. He invited me to a party, and I went and it was there that I saw a couple make love for the first time. Christ, with my first husband, I never even saw me do it. He always had to have the lights out. At first I was shocked, just like you' were, I imagine, but then it became beautiful, like a ballet, and I realized that the most lovely sight I had ever seen were those two people joined in loving one another. It... sort of grew from there."
"I see," Ann said.
Garret grinned. "Why don't you two go back to your cabin and talk it over. You're newlyweds, and should get to know one another better anyway, and if you decide this isn't for you, well then just chalk it up to experience and forget it. If you find that it enriched your life and your love for each other, then let us know. We'll be pleased if it did, we honestly will."
Nodding, Mark rose to his feet. He beckoned wordlessly to his bride, and then he and Ann left the Garret's presence. They were apart, torn by their own fears, prejudices, and guilt. Neither of them said goodbye to their hosts, nor thought of what they could say to each other. It was a time of deep, soul-searching, re-appraisal of their values; an inner battle of despairing proportions.
Ann swallowed painfully as she walked inside the door of their cabin. Her husband of two days was stiffly beside her, his eyes boring daggers in her back. She waited until he was inside and then she closed the door quietly, her head bowed, and Mark went to the bed and lay down. Slowly he took a cigarette from his rumpled shirt and lit it, then propped himself up on one elbow to stare accusingly at his bride. She continued to stand in shame-faced agony by the door, unable to look directly at him.
Total self-abomination ran through her for what she had allowed to happen and what had been the climax of her act.
His sperm is still inside me, she thought sickly, a white smear of guilt. Vic Garret's seeds are mixing with my husband's... and I'm nothing except the whore Mark called me. Surely I will burn in purgatory for this... I'm the most horrible of women! Her vagina still ached from the brutalizing of Garret's buffeting cock, and her breasts were tender and swollen from sexual excitement, as if to add further reminders of her transgressions. Vic was not right about what I did. It was wrong!
Neither spoke, though the air was heavy with electric" thoughts, and then she slowly crossed to the bed where she sat down close to her husband. She was careful not to touch him, though. Mark continued to smoke his cigarette, and then as he snuffed out the butt, he asked softly, "Was Vic right?"
Ann's answer was quick and positive. "No!"
"You... didn't enjoy him, then?"
"I... oh please, Mark don't ask!" Tears welled in her swollen eyes again.
"Goddamn it, I have to know!" he snapped. His voice was suddenly cold and harsh. "Did you like the fucking he gave you or not? Now answer me!"
In spite of herself, Ann found that her mind was once more reliving this afternoon's terrible ordeal, only with the objectivity of a dream, for she seemed to see herself as another person might - as Mark probably would have if he had looked over at her sooner - and there she was, on her knees, her dress bunched obscenely up around her waist, her lily white buttocks spasming back on Vic Garret's mercilessly sawing penis. She saw her expression, the contortion of lust and debauchery which changed her normally placid features, and she felt the inner building of her orgasm again. Had she enjoyed it? Yes, she had to admit, Yes I loved every hellish second of it! I had liked it well enough to cum, to achieve my first climax.
Her revelation sent the threatening cloudburst of tears to rain from her eyes. She was the most despicable of creatures, the lowest of whores... "Yes!" she blurted in agony, "Yes, I did!"
"How well," he prodded, "how well did you like the fucking?"
"Mark, please don't torture me like this!"
"You came, and don't deny it," he sneered. "I heard you, don't forget. You camej for Christ's sake, and with another man! First! You didn't with me, but you went and screwed Vic and screamed for him!"
His words whipped her brain in verbal chastisement, and cringing, she tried to bring some sanity, some logical explanation to her predicament. "Mark, I'm sorry, Mark," she wailed, throwing herself upon his chest trying to hold him to her. "Please believe me, Mark. I wanted to cum with you last night, I truly did. But you were so rough with me. I was... scared, I guess and... afraid."
"Afraid? Of what? Me?"
"Yes... and of myself," she sobbed. "I think that I've always been afraid of me, of sex, of... my responsiveness. I was up tight last night, after all the excitement of the wedding, and I couldn't be the woman you wanted me to be."
"But you could for Garret? Is that what you're saying?"
"Nooooooo," she wailed loudly. "It was the schnapps, and the... sight of you making love. It was so horrible, so terrible that I lost control." She continued to cry against his chest, soaking his shirt from with her tears, and she dug her nails into his chest convulsively. "I'm nothing but an awful whore!" she moaned.
Mark sat in wretched sorrow. He loved his bride... he had to admit that he did in spite of what had happened. He loved Ann, and her last plea for understanding hit him hard. It was the schnapps, she had said... and who had gotten Garret to load her drinks? Himself! The sight of you making love, she had said, and he had been! He had been wallowing on that double bunk with that bitch, and just like Garret double bunk with that bitch, and just like Garret had shot at him, he had been adulterous first! He still smarted from his bride's infidelity, but he also was man enough to realize that he had no argument. He was just as guilty of breaking the vows of fidelity, and if his wife still loved him, as Ann kept saying, then he would try to forgive her in return. More, perhaps, for he had been the catalyst for her actions. True, the Garrets had taken advantage of a golden opportunity, that was obvious, and they had struck quickly and accurately, but he, and he alone, had to stand responsible. And, as he realized the tender frailty of his bride's womanhood, he was drawn closer to her, as though in the fear of losing her love, he had awakened a vast loving for her. He took one of her hands gently, and uncurled the fist her clenched fingers had made, and he kissed her forehead lightly.
"It's all right, honey," he comforted, "It happened, and we'll best forget about it. I don't want our marriage to end before it even starts. I love you too much." Then, in an effort to reassure her that she was not a whore, a harlot, a scab of the streets, he added, "Perhaps the Garrets were right. Perhaps the fact we shared our bodies with them and did it together so deepened your pleasure that you were able to climax."
"I... hope so," Ann replied, clutching the straw of his reasoning like a drowning woman, "I would like to think that."
"Sure," he continued in a soothing voice. "It isn't so important that you came with Vic first... what's important is that you found out that you can enjoy it, that you can respond fully."
They snuggled in quiet love for a few moments, and then Ann, calmer now, asked softly, "And you, Mark... you said perhaps the pleasure was deepened for me... was it for you, too?"
"It was wasn't it?" She felt a curious tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach, and the start of a peculiar warmth in her vagina as she mentally pictured him with Ali again. It was wrong... sick... lewd, but it somehow excited her. "Tell me, did you like making love to her as much as I enjoyed Vic?"
"Yes," he admitted finally. "Yes, I did. She was great."
The tingling spread like wildfire as he blurted out the truth to her. Ann felt the inflammation begin between her inner thighs, and knew instinctively that she was becoming aroused intensely by their talk. For some perverted reason, the lascivious debauchery of an hour ago was having a marked sexual effect on her body all over again... but this time she wanted her husband, and only him! Was there actually something in Vic Garret's arguments? Was the exchange of sexual partners one way of bringing one's own mate closer? The questions mixed with her lusting emotions as slowly, slowly, her passions quickened their pulses. Her hand moved from his back. What am I doing? she thought helplessly to herself. Why can't I stop? But still she moved around so that she was able to rub the front of his pants in a gentle, teasing manner. He looked down at her hand, uncomprehending. Ali had started this way... what is Ann doing it for? Surely... surely...
"Mark, I want you... " she heard herself moan.
"What?" he asked incredulously. "You want me? Now? After what we just did?"
"Yes, Mark... more than ever!"
Her hand continued to the belt of his pants, and down went the zipper. She laid back the flaps of his trousers and slipped her fingers inside, sliding under the band of his underpants and down, down to the wiry bristles of his pubic hair. Then she contacted the head of his penis, and she dipped lower so that she was able to grasp the whole of its length and caress it back and forth, back and forth. It grew - in rapid palpitations to instant erection, bulging against his shorts like a tent pole. She traced downwards, around the bloating cauldron of his rapidly heating testicles, teasing the soft fleshy surface of his groin.
"Mark," she moaned, mindlessly lost in the lust of the moment. The newly awakened fires consumed her, and she was newly awakened, she finally realized; Vic Garret having done it with his wicked travesty of this afternoon. "Mark, don't you want me?"
"Oh Christ," Mark moaned in reply. His hips began to undulate on the bed. "Yes, yes I do!"
She rose lone enough to undress him, and then herself, a momentary delay which left their clothes scattered around the cabin in a mock repeat of his seduction by Ali. Then she crawled on the bed and smiled warmly at him. "I can't help myself, Mark," she crooned, "I want you so badly... please, please make love to me!"
"Oh, yes, honey!" Mark whispered hoarsely, "Grab my cock and shove it up that beautiful cunt of yours." He reached for her, stroking her breasts with fevered hands. "Do it, baby, doooooo iiiiiiitttt!!!!!"
She raised herself on all fours, and she crawled over him with her knees on either side of his hips. She dipped her fingers between their bodies and encircled his rising cock, which was throbbing and encircling his rising cock, which was throbbing in uplifted desire, and she teased it with her thumb and forefinger, all up and down the rubbery length. Mark squirmed and moaned, and she smiled broadly, hungrily. Then she moved forward some more and spread her thighs and guided his giant cock to her desire-drenched pussy, rubbing its bulbous head over the fleshy, hair-lined lips of her vagina. Her cunt valley opened to his questing rod like a vanquished foe asking surrender before a marauding knight, and his cock sliced into the awaiting furrow like soft melted butter as she flicked its girth up and down.
"You like?" she gasped from the electric contact.
"Aaaahhhhh," came the sighing answer, and then Mark jerked upwards. His hips drove the elongated rod into the wetness of her cuntal tunnel, deep to the root of her passions.
"Uuuuuggghhhhh!" she groaned. He plunged upwards again, and then he began to stroke in long, rhythmic pumpings, and in response she rotated and squirmed her smooth white buttocks around in matching tempo. He withdrew, then slammed still harder until his aroused cock pressed hard against her cervix with its fevered head, and all the while Ann thought how wonderful it was that the man she was being so beautifully fucked was by her husband!
Oh God, there had never been anything this good! Not even with Vic... but Vic had been right; she was awakened, and she was enraptured more than any mortal being had the right to be. The glut of licentious perversion which she had seen and partaken in had somehow broken the shackles of her Victorian fetters. She was free! Ann tossed her head in wild abandon, and offered her breasts to Mark's wet, searching lips as she bent over his churning loins. She spread her thighs still more, angling down to grovel still further on the passion-hardened rod skewering up into her, and her belly churned with her impending climax.
"I'm... I'm going to cum honey," Mark gasped beneath her, "Oooooohhhhh, baby, don't stop... don't... "
"Uh... uh... uh... " Ann chanted in unison, raising her body in an arch and grinding salaciously downwards with greater pressure. She was almost there... so close... and she wanted to feel their love juices mingle together in the hot, boiling cauldron of her young belly. Her breasts heaved and trembled, and Mark once more placed his lips around her twitching nipples, sucking on them, feeling them grow harder still against his tongue tip, and hearing her pant and mewl with her newly unleashed passion. And then she cried out in a convulsing, gargoyle contortion of her lovely face-, rolled her tongue out and lolled her eyes, and in pagan abandonment she came in a roaring tornado of uncontrolled lust!
"AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!" she screamed out into the room, the core of her being ripped from her in animal ferocity. Spurts of her vaginal fluids inundated the mammoth shaft imbedded in her cunt, and then Mark jerked and lurched, as a tidal wave of his frothing sperm raced from deep in the swirling well of his testicles, up his vertical penis, and splashed far up into her quivering pussy. Her belly trembled from the torrent of his release, and he emptied the hot, white load to the point where it inundated her cuntal walls and rivuleted out and down between his legs to pool in mixture with her cum on the sheets below.
He fell backwards, and Ann collapsed on top of him, spent. Her legs went limp and she kissed his ear and neck tenderly as she felt his turgid cock slowly deflate within her. Then she whispered in his ear...
"I love you, Mark. I love your lovemaking, too."
"Was... was it better than with Vic?"
"Oh yes, darling. Much better."
Mark tried to move from beneath her, but she squeezed her legs together and said, "Leave it in, dear. I like the feel of it going soft inside me!"
"Ann... I love you too," Mark told her, "And I'm sorry for what happened between us and the Garrets today. I'm truly sorry."
"Hush, my sweet," Ann answered. "Don't be. I'm not."
"You're not?" came the shocked reply.
"Yes. Don't you understand? Vic was right. Somehow, a strange man entering me and shooting his seed in me awakened the desires which I'd kept for so long inside." She kissed him tenderly. "It had nothing to do with you, dear; it had to do with my moralistic upbringing. It was the lewdness and the sheer shock of the situation which opened me up."
Mark considered his bride's words for a moment, his cock still lovingly draining in her cunt. Then he kissed her and said, "In that case, I'm not sorry. But what about Vic's talk afterwards? Do you agree with him?"
"I don't know, darling. This one time, possibly it was good. It helped me... helped us. But more of this swapping... " she let her voice trail off in uncertainty. She moved her hips and fucked her tongue along her lips and then undulated her buttocks and amazingly, the lust began to grow inside her again. Yes; this was what sex is all about, she thought wildly, Sex IS good and fun, and I want more and more!
As she continued to make love - devoted, full and enriched, spiritual and physical - to her new husband, the bride, blushing now with sexual excitement, cried out from her sudden sense of freedom.
"Oh darling!" she wailed, "I'm going to love you... forever!"
CHAPTER FIVE
Ann begged off going to breakfast the following morning; she wasn't at all sure she could face the Garrets after what had happened yesterday, and she needed some time to prepare herself. Mark, in deference to the young bride's wishes, decided to remain with her in the cabin, and when Kurt came knocking at their door to tell this it was time for Fruhstuck, Mark said they would like some coffee in the cabin and that was all.
Dutifully, the fat Chief Steward soon brought them a large yellow hot-cold pitcher of heavy European coffee and two cups and some milk and sugar on a gleaming silver tray. He departed with a cheerful nod. As Mark poured coffee into the two cups, he studied his beautiful new wife across the table.
She looked radiant this morning, he had to admit that. Her smooth cheeks were flushed with health, and she seemed to be as happy as she had ever been in her life. Had their mutual infidelity of the day before really been a boon to their relationship as man and wife? he wondered. Could something as irresponsible, as wickedly sinful, as wife-swapping (and that's what it had been, for God's sake!) lead to something good and clean and beneficial to both of them? Well, if he had been asked that question academically, at some gathering or other, he would have said an emphatic no; now, he wasn't so sure. He felt closer to Ann than ever before, and he knew it was the same with her; witness the tremendous untapped passion she had exhibited with him the night before. Wasn't that preferential to the damned-near rape he had performed on her on their wedding night, for Christ's sake? And wasn't it a direct result of her indiscretion with Vic Garret and his own with Ali that had brought about this awakening of her senses? Mark was certainly .beginning to think so...
They drank their coffee, touching hands now and then and locking eyes across the table. Ann's mind was gradually blotting out the events of the day previous in favor of the strong avowed love she felt for her new husband. Nothing was really important except that love - and what she knew to be Mark's in kind; all else was relegated to secondary import on this morning. She no longer seemed to feel shame or guilt or confusion, for she was a fulfilled woman who had found the true beauty and rapture of sexual gratification with her chosen mate.
Mark was pouring more coffee for himself when the knock sounded on the door. Thinking it was Kurt, he called out cheerfully, "Unlatch and trek in, mein hen. " Vic Garret stepped inside, smiling brightly, his handsome face showing no signs of hesitancy or remorse or embarrassment. "Morning, kids," he said.
Ann, surprised by his entrance, blushed slightly and averted her eyes. Mark looked up at Garret, pursing his lips. "Hello," he said stiffly. His gaze was cold, but without animosity.
"Thought I'd drop in to see if everything was all right," Garret said. "Ali was worried about Ann, since the two of you didn't come to breakfast."
"We... weren't hungry, that's all," Ann said hesitantly, still not looking directly at Garret.
He laughed softly, stepping further inside the cabin as though it was his own and not the Lawson's. He leaned one hip against the frame of the nearest bunk bed, regarding Mark and Ann with an almost paternal expression. "Did you... talk over what we discussed yesterday?" he asked bluntly. "About what happened between the four of us, I mean, and the present and future effect on your relationship."
Mark's lips were a white slash now. "I don't think it's any of your business what we discussed, Garret."
"Isn't it? Well, perhaps not. But you both seem loving toward one another; you've got that newlywed look in your eyes again. When you left my cabin, it was a toss-up as to whether things would work out that way or just the opposite - with the two of you splitting up and never speaking to one another again. Ali and I were plainly worried. The last thing we want is to break up a marriage that's just starting."
"You should have thought of that yesterday," said Mark.
"Maybe we should have," agreed Garret. "But, it seems things have worked out for the best." He watched Ann's face intently, and then asked matter-of-factly, "Did you make love last night, after you returned to your cabin here?"
The sudden flash of crimson which flamed Ann's cheeks gave him an immediate answer. She turned away. Mark got to his feet. "Damn it, Garret, you... "
"Take it easy, will you?" Garret soothed. "There's nothing to get excited about. I think it's beautiful that you made love - and that it was perfect and completely fulfilling for you both."
"How... how did you know that?" blurted Ann.
Garret smiled sagely. "So I was right, eh? I thought so. Listen, kids, you aren't a unique couple, you know. Thousands - hell, millions - of young marrieds have trouble adjusting to one another at the beginning; that's especially true sexually. It was plain to see that you were having difficulties and that you needed some kind of impetus to bring you together. Granted, the kind of impetus Ali and I provided yesterday was a little drastic, but it worked just as we hoped it would. When you've been swinging as long as Ali and I have, then you begin to anticipate reactions and occurrences; the natural ones in your case was to either drift apart - which wasn't too likely with the love you exhibited for one another - or to want desperately to prove to each other that what you could have together would be better than what you could have with somebody else." Garret paused dramatically. "And it was, of course; it always is."
Ann looked at Mark, and he at her. Then they both lowered their eyes. Garret's smile grew larger, but more empathic. "Nothing to be ashamed about. I know how it is, because that's what makes Ali's and my marriage so good. Every time we swap, or make love to someone else, then we come home and do it with each other. And each time, it's always better than it was with the other person. That's the whole basis of group sex, of swapping on a regular basis; it makes your marriage as solid as a chunk of granite."
The coldness was gone from Mark's eyes now as he looked up at Garret. There was a grudging respect in his eyes, for he knew in his heart, knew intrinsically, that Garret was right in all he was saying. But he said, "I... I just don't think the concept... of wife-swapping is healthy, that's all."
"Only because you don't understand it, haven't been exposed to it," Garret said calmly. "Look what yesterday did for both of you: you each had a good, thrilling experience with Ali and I - nothing wrong in climaxing, is there? - and then you came here and had a tremendously beautiful sexual experience with one another. What could be more healthy than that?"
"I... I don't know," Ann said querulously. Her mind, so complacent only a few minutes earlier with her re-kindled love for her husband, was now confused again. Vic was right, she had to admit that; there wasn't any apparent flaw to be seen in his argument. But if she accepted his words completely, then that was tantamount to saying her herself that she would have extra-marital sex again - and again; that it was all right to indulge in wife-swapping and group sex. And it wasn't all right to do that on a regular basis, on any basis... was it? It couldn't be... could it?
"We just don't know what to think right now," Mark told Garret lamely. "We're confused... so much has happened, and so fast. We can't cope with it."
"Sure, I realize how that is," Garret said smoothly. "Listen, tell you what. Why don't you and Ann come on up to my cabin right now. Ali's there, and we can have a nice relaxing drink and talk it out in detail."
"Well... " Mark began uncertainly. "It'll do you both good. You'll understand things more properly once they're discussed at length. What do you say?"
Mark looked at Ann. "Honey?"
"I... I guess it wouldn't hurt if we went up and talked for a while," admitted Ann. She felt strangely detached from herself, as if she were dreaming this whole sequence of events - vividly dreaming it, but dreaming it nonetheless. She wished things were simple, that the world was simple and uncomplicated and that there weren't always a lot of things that had to be resolved and decided and thought out and worried over. That would have been so wonderful...
"All right... I guess we could listen," Mark said at length. "We... we're not closed-minded hypocrites, after all. We're open to... to ideas and concepts, aren't we, Ann?"
"... Yes, yes, we are," Ann answered softly.
They left the cabin and started down the companionway, and it seemed to Ann as if they were being carried along on a kind of vapor instead of walking - as if a cloud, invisible but very powerful, was stretched like a horizontal escalator beneath their feet, carrying them to some unknown destination and some unknown occurrence once they arrived. Only she knew, in a far dim corner of her brain, what that occurrence really would be when they reached the Garret's cabin: it would be wife-swapping, she and Mark were going to indulge in wife-swapping with Ali and Vic Garret on this day, openly and knowingly... she was going to have Vic's huge penis inside her vagina again, as it had been yesterday, and Mark's member would be inside Ali... Ann knew this as they floated right along, knew it and yet was powerless to stop it. Did she want it to happen? Did she really believe Vic was right in all that he had said about the attributes of group sex? Did she really want to commit willful infidelity with her husband in the same room, watching him as he watched her making love? The answer must be yes, she thought fuzzily, or I would stop it, somehow I would force myself out of this almost trance-like state I am now in and put a stop to it before it's too late... but I can't do that, won't do that, the answer must be YES!...
Mark, too, was vaguely aware that this sojourn to the Garret's cabin could only result in one thing - the exchanging of mates and a sexual bacchanal. And yet, the very perversity of the idea was somehow strangely enticing to him, not at all repulsive. Garret's words, rationalizing extra-marital sex, seemed to make all the sense in the world the more he pondered them; there wasn't anything inherently wrong with achieving sexual gratification, as long as it didn't hinder or harm the relationship with the person you truly loved - especially if, in fact, it strengthened the bonds of adoration between you both. No, he was becoming more and more convinced that Garret had been right - and he knew that he wouldn't stop things if they got started, wouldn't even try to prevent the inevitable...
They reached the closed door to the Garret cabin, and Vic knocked twice, lightly, and then opened the door. They went inside, and Ann blinked twice to accustom her eyes to the sudden darkness. She saw then that the wooden, louvered doors had been pulled closed over the twin marine windows in the far bulkhead. A shadowy blur sat on the table before the couch, and as Ann's eyes grew used to the dimness she saw that it was a movie projector. Movie projector? Now why would Ali have a movie projector set up... ?
Garret's beautiful blonde wife, who had been sitting in the darkness on the couch, stood up as they entered. "Well, hello," she greeted, and Ann could see in the pale light from the open door that she was smiling warmly. "I'm glad Vic was able to talk you into coming up. I hope everything is... all right."
"Just fine, honey," Garret said easily. He took Mark's arm, and placed a warm familiar hand on Ann's spine just above the hip, and steered them both to the couch. "Sit down, kids. Ali, is the film ready?"
"All set."
"What film?" Mark asked, but a small voice in his brain had given him the answer even as the question left his lips. He mentally told the voice that it was wrong, blotting out the knowledge but only briefly.
"You'll see," Garret said. "A little illustration of what we were discussing in your cabin right now."
"But I don't understand how a film of some sort can illustrate the... kind of thing we were talking about," Ann said hesitantly; she didn't comprehend at all.
"Relax, Ann, and everything will soon be abundantly clear," said Garret mysteriously. He stepped around to the movie projector on the table and began to adjust it in the darkness; Ann thought that he must be an expert at such things to be able to work without lights on the intricate mechanism.
Ali came around the table and stepped behind her husband, facing Ann and Mark. "Scoot down a little, honey," she said to Ann. "I want to sit next to your husband. That is, if you don't mind."
"Oh... no, no, I don't mind," Ann said and obediently she moved down to allow Ali more room; as the blonde woman sat down, Ann could feel the warm flesh of her thigh through a short, clinging chemise that Ali wore - and she knew that Mark could feel the same pressure on the blonde's other side. Was he excited by her pressing against him like that? the young bride wondered. Did he... have any lewd thoughts at this moment? Well, no, don't be silly, she chided herself; nothing is going to happen, nothing is going to happen, nothing is going to happen...
But she knew, even as she tried to convince herself of the opposite, that something was going to happen - something she secretly, perversely wanted to happen...
"Here we go," Garret said from the projector. He flicked a switch, and a square of light shone on the wall to the left of them, above one of the cabin's bunk beds. Garret sat down next to Ann, squeezing into the small space remaining on the couch; his thigh seemed to feel hot against Ann's, hot and hard and masculine. She swallowed hard, conscious of a tenseness in her chest and a funny fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach. She squeezed her legs tightly together and then her eyes went to the square of light, watched numbers dancing there backward from ten to four, watched an image in full color appear where the whiteness had been...
It was a bedroom, small and well-furnished. In the middle of an oval modernistic bed with a red velvet spread, a young girl lay reading a book. She was completely nude, little more than fifteen or sixteen, but she possessed firm, ripe breasts that were as bronzed as the rest of her body - as if she had been sunbathing in the nude on a regular basis. Her nipples were tender and ruby-red, highlighted by perfect brownish-pink circles that were her areola. She had a flat, planed stomach that curved into a beautifully textured abdomen, and her pubic mound was just slightly prominent and covered with silky, very fine golden hair; it matched her long tresses fanned out on the brilliant red spread, like a halo of gold encircling her head. Her legs were parted, just enough so that the camera was able to discern the shiningly wet folds of her vaginal lips and a faint, tantalizing hint of her youthful, blood-red clitoris.
Ann stared in shocked surprise at the nubile young girl, moistening her lips with the tip of her pink little tongue. And yet, there was a certain tension building inside her - a tension which further constricted her chest, and caused a tingling warmth along the walls of her pussy. Garret's thigh, pressing against her bare thigh - she wore only a very short miniskirt and a thin blouse with a peek-a-boo bra beneath and brief step-ins to complete her ensemble - seemed as if it was fever hot, branding her tender, sensitive skin with its heat.
She said, in a voice choked with emotion, "That... that girl. She... she's nude. What's she doing there like that? What kind of movie is this?"
"Just watch and you'll find out," Ali commanded in a husky voice. "It's very educational, honey; it's better than any talking Vic and I could do. You'll see... you'll see... " As the young girl on the red velvet bed read the book in her hands, her blue eyes began to close seductively. Her moist pink tongue appeared to move restlessly over her full pouting lips, and the rise and fall of her pear-shaped, high-nippled tits increased noticeably. Her tanned hips began to rotate as if to the beat of some musical tempo, slowly at first and then with increasing rapidity as the obviously erotic section of the book aroused her more and more.
Suddenly, her hand left the tome and began to massage one of her luscious breasts in small, teasing circles, thumb and forefinger squeezing the berry-like buds until they became even harder and more ruby-red. Her hips continued their wild, pagan rolling motion until at last her legs scissored wide to reveal to the camera for the first time the entire panorama of her glistening, petal-lipped cunt and the oscillating nub of her clitoris. Her hand left her breast then, inching its way down over her flat stomach, down over her silky pubic hair, down between her splayed legs so that the tips of her fingers revolved over the pulsating clit. Then they moved with agonizing slowness over first one bronzed thigh, then the other, to finally return to her lust-dampened furrow. Her hips raised high off the velvet spread, and she drew her legs back so that the knees touched her chest on either side of her full, rounded tits, squeezing the two spongy globes tightly together until the nipples almost touched, widening her cunt still more for the camera's whirring eye. Her finger began to tickle her clit, faster and faster, and now her head was flailing from side to side and there was a look of sheer abandoned ecstasy on her full mouth and sweat-sheened face. The tiny puckered hole of her anus seemed to throb open in a lewd invitation, and briefly her finger left her clit to tease round and round the nether ring - but it came back again to its main objective, swirling the quivering miniature phallus with insane speed as she sought to achieve her masturbatory orgasm...
"This is... depraved! It's sick and depraved!" Ann blurted suddenly, squeezing her own thighs tightly together and breathing raggedly, her eyes locked on the wildly jerking girl in the movie. But her actions belied her words, and they lacked convictions even in her own ears. She was aroused; even if she wouldn't admit it to herself, she was aroused watching this teenage girl play with herself. Aroused, aroused...
"It's not depraved at all, Ann," Garret told her calmly. He pressed his thigh tighter to hers and slipped an arm about her shoulders, stroking the thin blouse back and forth. The touch of his fingers sent an electric shock through Ann, and she shuddered. But she didn't pull away; if anything, she drew closer to him. "It's good, because it excites you. I know it excites you, because it excites me. It makes me feel good. It gives me an erection, a hard-on, Ann. It gives me a hard-on the same way it makes your pussy tingle and all wet and warm... " His lewd words, breathed almost in her ear, seemed to freeze the young bride into an immobile position, as if she had lapsed somehow into a catatonic trance. She was breathing heavily, her mind churning, her nipples rigid beneath her bra and blouse and her cunt watering exactly as Garret had said it would.
Mark, too, seemed mesmerized by the flickering film. He could feel Ali next to him, could feel the firmness of her breast pressing against his arm, the nipple seeming to burn his skin through the material of her chemise. His cock was turgid in his pants, and his balls ached with a vengeance. Christ, this was wrong, all wrong, but the way that young thing was beating herself off in the film was unbelievably enticing! And Ali... so close, smelling of musk, so much of a damned woman that it made you want to cry out like some space-age Tarzan and attack her every goddamned time you were near her. Jesus, Jesus, she was rubbing the back of his head now, rubbing and rubbing and her other hand was on his leg, a firebrand on his leg, moving higher and higher and he couldn't have prevented it if he'd wanted to...
In the dancing technicolor film, the golden-haired girl was masturbating with mindless rapture, her legs still pulled back and squeezing her succulent tits together and her bronzed buttocks an impossible fever of motion from her talented explorations of her own pussy. She was nearing a climax, almost there but not quite... and then, suddenly, a huge furry form bounded in a long graceful leap into the range of the camera, landing heavily beside the girl on the velvet spread. It was a gigantic Boxer dog, its jowls parted redly and its long furled tongue panting saliva. It moved forward, nuzzling the golden-haired girl's upthrust buttock in convivial gentleness.
The teenager became rigid at the sudden electric contact of the dog's cold nose, her finger positioned on the tip of her inflamed clit. Then, slowly, she smiled and patted the Boxer's huge head - and she pushed it lower with a familiar hand on its scruff, turning her body on the bed until her passion-lubricated vaginal slit was within inches of the, animal's panting tongue. She began to pat her golden pubic mound invitingly, her entire body tensed and her thighs which imprisoned her tits beginning to squeeze the pliant globes together as would a lover's hands.
The Boxer's stubby tail wagged happily, and the dog lowered its head to the girl's trembling, hair-lined vagina and sniffed greedily. Then its curled tongue licked upward exploratorily along the fluted edges of her lust-moistened pussy. The girl tremored with delicious abandonment at the forbidden contact, and her hips began to churn wildly on the bed once more. The animal ran its hot, wet tongue over her trembling clit, then back down almost to the brown ring of her tiny puckered anal hole, then back up over her cuntal mouth to her clit again, flicking with relentless fervor. She twisted and jerked madly, her mouth opened as if she were screaming out her rapture as the great Boxer lapped the pungent flaming juices of her desire-ridden cunt.
Ann had begun to squirm with building arousal on the couch as she watched the lewd, lascivious actions of beast and human flickering on the cabin wall. A part of her mind - the part of her which had remained a virgin even with her defloration, with her subsequent act of infidelity; would remain so until she broke its mental maidenhead through strength of will -screamed out for her to get up and run, get away from this perversity and animal sexuality. But the rest of her brain, stronger now, much stronger, was inflamed with desire and she was rooted irrevocably to her seat.
Garret's arm was still around her shoulders, and he had moved his hand down to caress her firm, taut breast briefly. Then he moved it back up again, only to slip his fingers inside her blouse, down to push her bra cup away and grasp the firm naked flesh of her tit and the turgid nipple. His other hand was on her thigh, stroking it up and down, up and down, moving to her panties, fingertips touching the moist mound of her cunt beneath the now-wet nylon band between her thighs. His fingers were hot and exciting on her flesh, and she couldn't stop him, didn't want to stop him; she was mesmerized by the lustful sight, before her eyes, and her body was reacting to both the film and to Garret's talented fingers. She didn't care... physical gratification, that was all that mattered... Vic had been right, when you were aroused you had to have release - and any kind of release was good...
Ali, sitting beside Ann, had thrown her left leg over Mark's right one, pushing her short chemise up around her waist. She wore no panties, and when she took Mark's hand and guided it to her wide-splayed cunt she reveled in his gasp of surprise and passion. Her own hand was moving busily across his lap, squeezing and kneading his hardened prick while his finger had begun to slide in and out of her cuntal lips noisily with a wet sluicing sound as if it were his cock fucking into her. She opened his zipper soundlessly, moved aside his shorts with deft fingers, and drew his blood-swollen shaft into the open. She began to massage it between her palms, thumbs running over and around the seminally-lubricated head, kissing him on the neck and trailing her hot wet tongue over his skin. Mark was breathing with staccato expulsions, like a runaway steam engine, and he was totally abandoned now to the perversion dancing on the wall and to the dexterous ministrations of the insatiable Ali beside him.
The blonde began to whisper in his ear, "I want you to fuck me, Mark, I want to feel this big hard cock of yours filling up my cunt... I want you to cum inside me, cum and cum and cum inside my cunt with your big cock spewing like a volcano... I want to fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you... " And Mark's finger moved with insane sawings in and out of her now-hungrily clasping pussy at the obscene "intensity of her desirous demands...
The young golden-haired teenager in the film had reached down to grasp the Boxer's ears and pull its huge head closer to her glistening vaginal furrow, pull its cold wet nose into her vulva. She maintained that position for several seconds, her body undulating in a crazy dance of lust, her hands burying the Boxer's head in her cunt. But then the animal jerked backward, breaking her grip, its tail slapping to and fro like a furry pendulum, and began to nuzzle the bronzed quivering globes of her buttocks. The dog's tongue probed her tiny puckered anus briefly, causing her to jackknife almost completely off the bed in ecstasy, and then licked upward over her pussy again to the indentation of her navel and the flat plane of her sweat-sheened stomach.
The young child seemed to have gone insane with lust, for her lips were twisted into a mindless contortion of uncontrollable passion. She reached out blindly and pulled the dog up over her trembling body, taking the Boxer's forepaws and positioning them on either side of her wide-splayed thighs. The dog's long, dripping tongue licked her bulging, squeezed breasts for an instant, and then it was lolling in her face as she held the beast steady. Her own tongue flicked out, found the dog's, ran up and down over it several times, her lips nibbling it and drawing it inside her mouth. Then she released one of her hands from its forepaw and reached down to grasp the shining, crimson penis which had magically appeared from its furry sheath at the Boxer's loins.
The huge slippery organ slipped from her fingers and she grabbed it again, almost . frantically this time. Her cuntal mouth was opened wide to the camera, glistening wet and ready, and her hips were upthrust as far as possible to receive the anticipated invasion of the animal prick she was now guiding to her womanhood. Then she had poised the brilliant red cock, so obscene against the warm, wet folds of her pink pussy; the dog, seeming to sense its nearness to conquest, bucked forward then to drive his immense implement of burning fire deep, deep into the golden hair of the girl's twitching cunt.
The Boxer's great hair-coated balls slapped off her squirming buttocks and her passion-contracting rectum as she lunged up again and again to meet the beast's impossibly rapid lunges into her warm, wet cavern of lust. Its forepaws sawed relentlessly at her sides, and she held its head again, sucking and licking the animal's lolling tongue as it fucked wildly into her. Her hips seemed to be a blur of motion beneath the Boxer's pistoning loins, and her face - turned upward clearly for the camera to see beneath the slavering head of the dog - was contorted even more mindlessly, more salaciously, than before as the enormous animal slammed its crimson cock faster and faster into her voraciously clasping cuntal channel...
The salacious, maddening sight of the dog and girl in the movie had sent Ann to a fever pitch of excitement. She was no longer sitting motionless with Garret's hands on her breast and on her thigh and cunt; she was now actively helping him. She turned her face, opened her mouth to receive his tongue and fused it with her own. Gone were all her inhibitions - inhibitions which would, undoubtedly, return when the drugged effect of lust wore off in her brain - and in their place was only a tremendous urgency, a need to gratify her carnal desires beyond all others. There was no shame, no sense of wrong-doing, no sense of sin; there was only lust, pure animal heat that threatened to destroy her very essence with its magnitude.
When Garret's questing fingers found the waistband of her flimsy white panties, began to draw them down, she raised her hips off the couch to help him. One of her hands dipped down to assist him in dragging them off her feet, and then she splayed her legs wide, opening her flowing, throbbing cunt wide for his returning hand. She reached up then, undoing the buttons on her blouse, pulling it open, pushing up her bra so that her small but perfectly symmetrical breasts were naked for his every whim.
Garret rummaged her cunt with his finger for a moment, then, as he lowered his head to take one of her turgid nipples into her mouth, he grasped one of her hands and guided it to his bulging trousers. Obediently, she stroked the hardened bulge, her fingers finding the fly and drawing it down. An instant later, his huge, purple-veined cock throbbed into view, its head like a great shining mushroom in the flickering movie light. She held it in her hand, like a starving child would hold a candy sucker, and then Garret was guiding her body over his with his hands, forcing her legs out on either side of him. Not once did his lips leave her breast, teasing and suckling the nipple with his mouth and tongue. His hands held her in that position, with her gaping cuntal opening readied above his cock imprisoned in her hand.
He took his lips from her tit then, commanded, "Look over your shoulder, Ann. Watch the movie. Watch the dog fucking the young girl, watching his cock sliding in and out of her pussy, Ann, in and out - in and out... " Ann did as she was bid, and the salacious sight set her whole body to vibrating crazily. She knew nothing but the raging inferno of lust, which was her being, was unaware of that Mark on the other end of the couch was now being mounted by Ali as she had mounted Vic Garret, only turned toward the screen with her firm, jiggling ass moons pressed down hard against Mark's heaving belly. Ann did not see, could not have cared about, Ali's hand wrapped around Mark's throbbing prick or the way the blonde guided it to her cunt, lowered herself onto it with a moaning sigh of ecstasy, began to rock up and down in total abandonment on the young husband's arrow-straight shaft while he kneaded her exposed tits with both his hands.
Nothing mattered to Ann at that moment but the insane need for release, to feel in her throbbing, aching channel a male member which would bring about that release. She guided Garret's pounding cockhead to her cuntal opening, parting the soft sparse cuntal fleece with its smooth rubbery head as he once again began to suck her breast. Still looking back over her shoulder at the flickering images on the screen, the young bride suddenly levered down with some special reserve of strength to impale herself on Garret's hardened rod of male flesh as if she were committing Japanese hara-kiri...
"Uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh!" she wailed, but it was a wail as much of thankfulness, of pure delight, as it was one of pain...
On the silver screen the young golden-haired girl squeezed and squeezed her swollen breasts with her thighs spasmodically, licking and sucking the dog's tongue, as the Boxer drove his flailing animal cock deeper and deeper into her churning pussy. She seemed to be crooning words of lustful encouragement to the beast buried within her, urging him to fuck her harder and deeper, to spew his searing animal seed far into her belly. She was no longer human, was only a mass of jellied flesh under the dog's masterful strokes of intercourse.
The child was approaching climax now, as was the beast whose cock she had taken into her cunt. Her golden hair swirled frenetically on the red velvet spread as she bucked and reared upward against the beast in an effort to ingest more of his flaming prick into the hungrily sucking cavern between her legs. The first overwhelming spasms of orgasm were seizing control of her now, causing her body to heave and jerk like a madwoman's; she was kissing the Boxer, showering its hairy, panting face with moist kisses and fiery tongue, holding onto its head as the dog fucked deeper into her splayed crotch. She bounced her buttocks with impassioned frenzy down against the bed as her cum now flowed freely through her, as the first spurts of semen from the Boxer's flame-red cock leapt like fire drops deep into the very depths of wildly quivering belly. Thick white sperm flowed like lava from her upthrust cunt as it clasped the ejaculating prick of the animal; it flowed down along the crevice between her bronzed ass cheeks, filling the working puckered ring of her anus, flowing lewdly across her hips to puddle on the velvet spread below.
And then, suddenly, as the Boxer gave one final spurt of seed into her pussy, she jackknifed her legs upward and then downward, collapsing like a rag doll; her head lolled to one side, and it was obvious that the magnitude of her cumming, of the dog's cumming, had rendered her completely unconscious. Her arms splayed out wide, releasing the Boxer, and as its rapidly deflating prick pulled from her cunt, trailing a white cobweb of animal seed before disappearing once again into its furry sheath, the beast licked her sweating, relaxed face several times to show its appreciation.
The film ended then, abruptly leaving only the white square of light shining on the cabin wall in dancing brilliance...
Ann, driven to heights of mindless, soulless lust by the bestiality she had just witnessed and by Garret's hard, throbbing cock imbedded in her softly moist vagina, jerked and bucked wildly above the man's heaving loins. Her hips were dancing as the young child's in the film had been dancing, swirling round and round as she rode up and down Garret's hardened pole of male flesh. Vic continued to nibble and suckle her tits, first one, then the other, his fingers digging into the soft resilient flesh of her ass cheeks as he rocked her down on his cock. He could feel the bloated head pound rhythmically against her cervix, could feel the sweet honey of her ragged breath exploding against his face as she fucked on top of him like a madwoman. Christ, never had it been this good... never... never! She was incredible when she got turned on, a woman to match Ali, if ever such a woman was born...
Have to cum, have to cum, have to cum! Ann's passion-crazed brain chanted. That's all that matters, have to achieve release, have to cum because physical gratification is good and it will be that much better between Mark and I... Mark, my beloved Mark is making love to Ali right now, she is doing to him what I am doing to Vic... he's going to cum inside her vagina as Vic is soon going to cum inside mine, but it doesn't matter because I love him and he loves me, we're in love, in love, in love...
"I'm almost there! I'm almost there!" screamed Ali from the other end of the couch. She was bobbing crazily up and down on Mark's pistoning shaft, rubbing her tits together frantically as she did so, her lips pulled back from her teeth. "Mark, honey... put your finger in my asshole! Shove your finger up my asshole, Mark' honey and make me cum... oooooooohhhhhhh!"
With passion-inspired obedience, Mark took one of his hands from her waist and probed at her twisting, churning buttocks. He located the sweat-slick valley between them, and she levered up to allow him access to her desperately working anus. Then his extended middle finger found the puckered nether ring, teased along it for a moment, then slipped inside with the tip. He held the digit stiff, and Ali suddenly levered back down again, driving his cock hard up against her cervix and burying his finger to the palm in the moist, rubbery passage of her rectum. "Aaaaaaaahhhh, that's it, oh God, that's it, Mark lover honey baby, all the way up my asshole!"
She began to rock crazily up and down on the two masculine members in her orifices, and then she screamed, "That's it, that's it, I'm there, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cummmiinggg!"
"Oh Jesus, me too, Ali, me too!" howled Mark, and he felt his balls explode his load of fiery white semen up into her belly as she bobbed up and down at the same time on his cock and on his finger embedded deep in her wildly clasping rectum. His seed flashed again and again and again against her cervix and then washed down over his cock to pool on the couch between wide-stretched legs...
The sound of his wife screaming her orgasm triggered Vic Garret's climax. He thrust upward with a brutal lunge, eliciting a wail of pain and pleasure from Ann's lust-wracked throat, and his balls too erupted his reservoir of sticky, milky semen into the young bride's tightly clinging pussy channel. Ann felt his burning sperm fire into her, drenching her womb, and she strove harder and faster up and down on the pumping prick for her own release. Harder and faster, harder and faster, harder and- "Yes, yes, yessssssssssss!" she screamed as her cum finally struck with mind-boggling impact, washing her soul free from her body and sending it on an inexpressibly wonderful journey into the far reaches of the vast, beautiful universe...
Cumming and cumming and cumming... so beautiful, so wonderful. Vic had been right because there was nothing unhealthy, nothing wrong, nothing wicked and evil involved in something as inherently lovely as cumming like this and knowing that when you do it later with someone you really love it will be even more rapturous... cumming and cumming and cumming, all through a lifetime, cumming and cumming and cumming...
CHAPTER SIX
Ann sat on the couch, one leg bent under her, the other dangling toward the floor. She leaned back and smiled, then shook her head, sending her hair flying. "Oh, that sun felt nice," she said, "But I don't think I could have taken much more of it, Ali. It was hot!"
Ali smiled back at her. She stood facing the large plate mirror, her weight on one hip. She ran a finger under the band of her bathing suit the way a woman does - she was wearing a skimpy, bandana sized two-piece bikini - and examined one satin thigh. "I wonder if I got any tan yet?" she mused.
"I don't see how you can tell," Ann said. "You're already a beautiful copper color."
"You really think so?"
"Definitely," Ann confirmed. "You have that fair kind of skin which picks up color very fast. You're a natural blonde."
Ali chuckled. "You noticed."
Ann blushed, embarrassed to the reference of what had taken place so shamefully the day before. "I... I couldn't help noticing, Ali," she said in a low voice. She sat in silence for a moment, her mind going over what had happened and the sickness she felt. The "home" movies... those perverted strips of celluloid with the dog and the girl... the way the girl had so relished the dog's burning tongue and firebrand cock... and then the complete abandonment again to her most salacious desires, nakedly abandoning her principles as though she was a sex machine unable to turn herself off... and then the satiated smugness as she lay with male sperm all around and inside her, and the chill of wretchedness as the satiation turned into mortification. But she had been tired, so tired from the long morning, and it hadn't been until much later that the full impact of her surrender had hit.
The darkened cabin with the wooden shutters drawn... the creaking of the ship as it rolled in the sea... the slow, drowsy return to consciousness. Her head had felt strangely thick and it had seemed difficult to think clearly as she lay there, and every muscle of her body seemed to have been tied in tiny knots.
"It happened... " she had moaned softly to herself, "It happened again... and again... and again... " And over and over in her pained mind had come the question, why? why had she allowed it to happen? Why? Why?
She had slipped from the bed, careful not to awaken her still sleeping husband, and lurched into the bathroom. She had stared in the mirror, and had seen the heavy lines which marred her near virginal skin. Her eyes had seemed to have sunk into her sockets as though the night had aged her a decade. "No... " she had moaned, "No, it must have been a nightmare... " But she knew that it hadn't been a dream, that she had actually lived through the obscenely sickening show and the revelry afterwards, and no amount of wishing could change that reality. She had looked down at her tender flesh and saw the mass of bruises that centered around her breasts and inner thighs. Her nipples were raw and even the slight pressure of her exploring fingertips had sent sharp waves of pain through them.
Ann had managed to stumble to the couch, afraid that she was going to vomit. Tears and hysteria had welled up in her, but she had steadfastly refused to break down. She was her mother's daughter, and no matter what happened to her, she was going to keep her torment, her agony inside her. Somehow she would face the day... her husband... the Garrets and the Holts. She had bitten her lips to keep from crying. By the time Mark was awake, she had gained at least an outward control of her senses.
But now, in the Garret's cabin with Ali she wasn't sure she could keep up the charade. The morning had been appalling. Not that anything had happened - on the contrary, everybody including Mark had acted as though nothing was wrong, that the previous night was spent in some innocent diversion like playing bridge! That was as bad, no - worse - than the other way; for there was no chance to release her inner torture by confessing her abject misery to Mark, or lashing out angrily at the Garrets for perpetrating such gross indecency upon her and her new husband. And now, now to have Ali smilingly refer to last night, and to give the idea that Ann might have been interested in the color of her pubic hair! Ann shivered from the disgusting suggestion and sought to change the subject.
"I wonder when the men will be down?" she asked.
"Hours from now, if I know Vic. As long as Klaus serves him that dark German beer, and as long as the sun is bright, he'll stay in that deck chair as though he was rooted to it." She turned back to the mirror. "And Mark has been asleep in his chair since breakfast. He really must have been worn out from last night."
Again the sly comment about what had happened... and this time Ann couldn't contain a slight whimper of remorse. She wanted Ali to stop, but the woman didn't seem to notice her agony, or if she did, she wasn't acknowledging it. "... those films always get my blood going, Ann," Ali continued. "That dog's got a tongue as long as an anteater's nose, I swear!"
Ali undipped her bra and shrugged her shoulders, letting the top part of her bikini fall to the floor. "Maybe you're right, Ann," she said, "I do have a lot of tan." She brought up her hands and cupped her firm, ripe breasts. "Quite a tiger stripe I've got," she said with a grin. Then she slowly slid the bottom portion of the bathing suit down and stepped out of it. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and her hands gently caressed her bare thighs and furrowed mound. "Yes, that white skin sure is a contrast." She walked over to the couch and sat down beside Ann and stretched languorously out. "Ahhhh," she sighed in a liquid voice. "Christ, does it feel good to be naked again."
Ann didn't know what to say. Never had she seen such abandonment of modesty. Not even the night before had she been struck by blatant nudity as she was now. During her school years she had seen many girls without clothes on, and had taken showers and been at slumber parties with them, and their private parts had been open and exposed. But there had been the overtones of chaste good taste present then, and she had averted her eyes from their areas, and they in turn had not flaunted their bareness in front of her, slightly embarrassed at the necessary circumstances as she had been. But Ali! She relished her nude form; but again, so did nature lovers in those forest camps of theirs. Ali had added a sexual aura somehow, as though she was constantly in heat, and her form was anything but an asexual bag of muscle and flesh. Nudists fought the sensual aspects - Ali heightened them.
"You... you're planning to take a shower?" Ann asked as she fervently sought control. She wanted to cry out for Ali to cover herself, to take stock of her shameless condition and cease her parading. But she knew that she couldn't and possibly her hint would at least speed up this wild woman's actions.
"Oh, I don't know," Ali replied. "Possibly later." She parted her legs slightly, just enough so that the glistening folds of her pussy were visible. She moistened her lips several times and her breasts began to rise and fall as they pooled against her chest. "Christ, all I can think about is last night," she said in a husky voice. "I think of that damned dog and I get as hot as the hinges of hell... " she groaned slightly and began to rotate her thighs on the cushion.
Ann tried to avert her eyes from the licentious sight of Ali spread naked before her, but in spite of her efforts, she kept returning her attention to that perverted triangle of lust, almost hypnotized by the way it undulated, and in her agitation, she barely noticed that her own inner thighs were beginning to tingle. She unconsciously placed her hands in her lap, pressing against the pants of her own, bright yellow two-piece bathing suit in a vain attempt to stop the wandering trails of her wetness.
Then Ali's legs spread wider apart, and her throbbing, pink-slitted vagina with its dainty clitoris nestled in its folds was completely exposed to Ann's horrified gaze. Ann swallowed hard, her throat dry, and inside her stomach was a thousand butterflies. There was something fascinating about her pubic area... some strange, grotesque attraction about the soft hair-lined flesh which made Ann cringe and yet at the same time lean closer...
Ali ran her hands hotly over her naked body, caressing and kneading her flesh and breathing loudly. "Ahhh," she sighed uncontrollably. "Oooh God, I'm excited... " Ali let her. hand trail down her body until she was able to revolve her fingers in the lust-dampened furrow of her open pussy. Her legs bent slightly to allow her roving hand more room to rummage, and then she began to massage her cuntal valley faster and faster, and she threw her head back, her teeth tight together and her eyes clenched shut. , "Oh, God, what... what are you doing to yourself?" screamed Ann.
"Enjoying... myself... " groaned Ali. The masturbating woman propped one leg on the sofa and her heated cunt was splayed wide. Ann could almost smell its wafting musk, and to her completely agonized eyes, Ali's probing fingers wormed in and out of the wide open vagina, and her other hand teased her erect clitoris at the same time. She secreted heavily, and then Ann heard the discernable slush-slush sound of her slapping hands as they found and broke suction with the clasping, yet dilated hole. "Uuuuuuhhhhh... " moaned Ali, her head rolling back and forth in tune with her slick hands.
"Stop!" Ann cried out in overwhelming shock. "Please, stop this insanity at once!"
"Why?" panted Ali. "Why shouldn't I enjoy myself?"
What she's doing is wrong! Ann's brain howled. "All wrong! She opened her mouth to tell Ali of her thoughts, but in her own emotional agony she could only groan and tremble. She then sensed the deep wetness which had been unconsciously building in her own vagina, and with building fear, she was forced to admit to herself that she had been sitting here in ever-increasing excitement, and that her hips had been grinding in response to Ali's sexual perversions. She tried to retain control of her body, but then her eyes locked on the whipping fingers beside her, and the hold on her senses began to diminish.
"I'm... sorry for... you, Ann," Ali said between undulations. "I can see your... consternation... and that you are... still unable to... give of yourself... freely!" She leaned over and began to rub her torso against Ann's body, her full warm breasts sliding along Ann's shoulders and her hot thighs against the yellow material of Ann's bathing suit bottom. "If you'd only be honest with yourself, you'd... see that... you would... like sex, and not think... it was dirty!"
"I don't think of sex as dirty," protested Ann in a thick voice. "I... I just don't approve of what you're doing."
"Why not? I'm aroused and excited and I'm seeking release, that's all. It's natural, just like what we did last night was natural. Passion is a very strong emotion and can be expressed in many different ways."
"But passion by itself can't produce happiness."
"No? Well, I can tell you that I'm making myself happy right now... and that Mark made me happy last night. And I know damned well that Vic made you happy a time or two."
Ann felt a strange faintness creep over her. She knew that what Ali was doing to herself, this lurid display of self-abusement, was wrong. Her mother had told her so, hadn't she? Had said it would lead to pimples and rotting of the brain, and worse... yet when she tried to clear her mind in order to argue back, she found that it was blurred with her sexual arousals. All she could do was sit dazed, overwhelmed by Ali's masturbating hands and mesmerizing words. Wrong, she repeated to herself... but was it? She shook her head, confused...
Ali was rubbing Ann's thigh with her right hand, now, her left one still at play in the inner recesses of her cunt. She whispered further indecencies in Ann's ears, and Ann breathed heavier and heavier. She began to rock back and forth on the sofa, utterly captivated by Ali's soothing tone and touch. She couldn't believe the same depraved and licentious reactions were running on the verge of rampancy through her for a third time in three days, and that she wanted more and more experience in sex.
Oh God, when will this nightmare end? She cried out her torment and fought to twist away and shut her eyes from Ali's slithering fingers, but it was as if every brain cell had snapped from insane lust.
Ali continued to caress and fondle both herself and Ann's quivering leg, and then, when she felt that the proper moment had presented itself, she took her hand from Ann's flesh and slowly began to massage her breast. She slipped her fingers under the cup of her suit and slid them up, over her alabaster breasts. Ali mewled with passions unrestrained as she viewed Ann's twin hillocks of womanhood, and she drank of their beauty and savored the budding nipples. They were beautiful, she thought, almost as beautiful as a man's monstrous member and hot, hairy body... but occasionally it was nice to touch the creamy skin of another woman, and feel the velvety sweetness. Especially a young woman like Ann, who had just been awakened to her hidden depths of sexuality.
Ali continued to encircle Ann's breasts with her one hand and slide over and in her own cuntal passages. She watched the nipples grow and she continued to talk in cooing tones in Ann's ear about how nice she was and how lovely her body was, and how good the fingers were on her skin...
All this time Ali was stroking her breasts and sides and stomach, Ann was moaning slightly, her hips gyrating in the pagan beat of intercourse. It did feel lovely, just as Ali said... so lovely and nice and soft... and as Ali began to tug at the young bride's bathing suit bottom, she found herself unable to halt her automatic responses. No! Stop this! I don't want a woman to touch me THERE! she screamed internally, but obligingly she lifted her buttocks and allowed Ali to remove the thin panties. Oh God! Please let me stop her... please... her mind screamed in silent prayer.
Yet she still was unable to break the binding emotions which held her to the sofa. Dream-like she saw her suit bottom pool around her bare feet, and then the sliding, almost snake-like creeping of Ali's long-nailed fingers across her now bare thigh. She moaned in total agony, but now beyond the ability to stop she spread her inner thighs to the woman beside her. Ali leaned over, her fingers now gently wrapped in the soft velveteen curls of Ann's pubic triangle, and when her nail touched the little clitoris, both females moaned.
Ali continued to slide her hand up and down the trembling slit of Ann's fire-infernoed cunt, and then she kissed the palpitating belly and the little round hump of her abdomen. She licked lower and lower, until her head was buried in Ann's lap, and all Ann could see was the tight-clipped curls of her head as she slavored at her lower belly... and all the while she used her other hand to part the hungry hairs of her own pussy and stroke her vulva with increasing lathers of perversion.
Ann clawed at Ali's hair. Stop! Dear God! I must stop her before I completely lose my mind! She wants to kiss me... nooooooo! With mind-blowing horror she realized exactly what desire was flooding through Ali's warped brain. Nooooo! I can't let her do this to meeeee! I would never allow even my husband kissing me between the legs, of touching his lips to my vagina... I would never let him do it... I certainly can't allow another woman to do it!
But in spite of her most fervent prayers, her efforts were to no avail. She felt the first hot tingling contact of moist female tongue upon her cunt, and as Ali's experienced kisses engulfed Ann's pussy channel, she capitulated to the torment of her unfulfilled yearnings. As hard as she fought the truth, her physical body responded automatically to the built-in conditioning of instinctive drives, and although she had been trained to view both cunnilingus and lesbianism with utter repudiation, she found that the taunting feelings between her legs was too good to resist. As though she was in the throes of dying, she moaned loudly and passionately, and she sunk back to the sofa until she was almost prone, and let the swiftly moving tongue and flickering lips radiate her body with overwhelming bursts of aphrodesia. Her head swam as Ali licked and sucked her tender, blood-engorged cavern, and she began to drive her hips forward, against the hot-breathing mouth as she mewled with unsatisfied sensations.
Ali groaned and hissed, reaching for her own release with her one hand as she grazed Ann's clitoris and stroked and invaded her vaginal orifice with her mouth and licked the wet furrow with eel-like tenacity...
And suddenly the door opened!
Both women froze, Ali looking up from between Ann's widespread thighs her finger still resting on her erect clitoris, and the other hand still buried in her own lust-aroused cunt. Lucy, gripped by absolute terror of being discovered in the practice of lesbianistic involvement, felt the overwhelming need to jump up, to run and escape - but Ali held her tightly with head and arm draped in her loins, and she was unable to move, and could only stare up at the man who stood smiling in the doorway.
It was Michael Holt.
He was wearing a pair of lime green trunks about the size of a shrunken jock-strap, and his belly hung over the tops of them and shadowed his prominent bulge of manhood. He was hairier and thicker than Ann had imagined him to be, but what made him more frightening to her was the strange leer which was on his face.
"Well! What have we here?" he chuckled obscenely, and stepped inside the cabin. "Go right ahead, girls; don't mind me."
"Ooooooohhhhh, God!" Ann wailed, "What are you doing here? Oh God, what are you here for?"
"Well, I was looking for Vic, and thought he might be in here, what with all the noise I've been hearing next door." He took another step forward so that he was very close to Ann, and then he smiled evilly, "But I think I've changed my reason for coming."
Ann felt herself blush crimson all over, or so it seemed, and some of her rational thoughts came back to her as the first shock of being caught began to fade slightly. Still, she was unable to move, to get up from the sofa and gather her clothing and run...
"I don't think that whatever Vic is doing can be better than this." His grin was wide across his face. "And of course three is always preferable to two."
"Oh, please go away," Ann moaned. "I... "
"Don't worry, Ann," Ali said with a soft chuckling sound. "Michael is one of us."
"What? Mike is... "
"That's right, baby," Holt said. "Why do you think we take these trips together? So we can have a grand fuck for days on end... and usually we can get the other passengers going, too." His hands can were rubbing his thighs now, and the bulge in his green trunks was growing... growing before Ann's terrified eyes like a swelling balloon. She could see the rigid outline of his cock as it rammed in increasing hardness up the fabric, its head almost breaking the elastic barrier around the top... with a cry of extreme terror and mortification welling in her chest, she tried to squirm from the couch, to pull her still throbbing vagina from Ali's fevered mouth, but Ali's hands were still entangled in her pubic hair and hips and she could only continue to whimper as Holt played with the front of his shorts.
Ali clasped her to the sofa more firmly. "It's all right, Ann," she crooned. "Just relax and enjoy it!"
"No, no I can't!" Ann babbled frantically. How could Ali lie there so calmly and unashamed? This terrible man with his demon penis so near to my face! How could she tell me to relax and enjoy ?
"What a delightful little scene you two are making," Holt chided. "Ali sucking you while she was jerking herself off, fingering that nice cunt of hers." His eyes were shining lanterns of lust, and a faint trace of spittle formed at the corners of his mouth. He breathed in short wheezes as he glared down at Ann's beautiful young innocence, at her breasts with their cherry-tip nipples and at her perfectly formed thighs and legs, and the continuing form of Ali as she stretched out in pagan splendor beyond...
Ann knew that her vagina was flowing again. That although she could not see her cuntal mouth, she could feel the seeping juices matting her pubic hair, and as she continued to stare at Holt's tightly protruding trunks, she felt a strangely perverse desire build in her. It was the desire Ali's masturbation had aroused and the subsequent kissing of her vagina had further whetted, and which was so close... yet so far... from being satisfied. Perversely, contrary to her most fervent hopes and desires, the pressure of her erogenous upheavals were climbing yet higher. Her breath began to match Holt's in ragged tempo, and she ran her tongue gingerly over her lips and began to tremble violently. There was something fundamentally erotic about her naked position and his; something which she could not deny.
I'm sick... I'm so sick! I have to stop this!
And then, as if the devil were answering, Ali dipped her lips teasingly back between Ann's thighs.
"Aaaahhhhh!" Ann cried out in abject surrender. She lifted her buttocks off the sofa and shuddered, but her writhings only seemed to glue the woman's mouth to her cunt tighter. She was torn between the mortification and terror of being confronted by this bear of a man before her... this Michael Holt who for some perverted, deranged reason seemed to be fascinated by her entrapment... and by the ravaging hurricane which was boiling through her vaginal walls. Her senses and modesty were torn to shreds before the storm which Ali was exploding within her.
"My trunks, Ann!" Holt cried hoarsely, "Slide my trunks off! I want you to take my cock in your hands while she's sucking you!"
The obscene lewdness of his foul command caused Ann to roll still more passionately. She twisted against Ali's lickings, her mind blank to everything - her self-loathing, the carnality of her situation - and mindlessly she slid her hands up his hairy thighs and over his sweat-slick waistband. She hooked her fingers inside and Holt sucked his breath in, and then she began to draw the suit down over his groin.
She managed to get it halfway down, but the monstrous hardness of his great cock prevented her from removing it more, and almost frantically, Holt helped her. His hands jerked at the material and finally his hard, fleshy penis flipped into view the way a leg on a card table snaps into position.
It was large and curved, like a giant Saracen sword. His shaft was like a shovel handle in girth, purplish with veins and reddish from passion. Its turgid head glistened maniacally and his hands encircled his immense cock and began to stroke it back and forth as he reveled in the soft excited moans, which escaped from Ann's throat as Ali manipulated both the bride's and her own cunts with frenzied determination.
"Suck me," groaned Holt. "Put my cock in your mouth and suck me, baby!"
"No, no I can't do that!" mewled Ann, "Nooooo, don't make me!"
"You teasing little bitch!" shouted Holt. He reached down and grabbed a handful of her long, black tresses and pulled on them, forcing her protestingly nearer to the edge of the sofa. He got down on his knees, his hand still tightly entwined in her hair, and his cock slowly quivered under the tip of her nose. "Suck me off, you hear?"
"Please," she cried out. "Please noooooo!"
"Open those lips," Holt snarled, and he jerked on her hair again, causing a short gasp of pain to slip from her. He pressed forward and brushed the slickened head of his prick over her lips. She started to plead for mercy again, but it came out muffled and low as he pushed the sound back down her throat with his throbbing cock's sudden entrance. He pushed her pale face forward some more and slid his firm yet fleshy shaft into her saliva-rich mouth.
"Suck," he hissed again.
Oh God, he's lost his mind, flickered through Ann's tortured brain. He'll kill me if I don't!!!
Ann closed her eyes, her humiliation and loathing for what she was doing past all bounds. She felt numb to the cabin around her, devoid of feeling, and her lips began to slowly nibble his hardened penis in fear of what he might do if she refused further. She coughed until she became accustomed to this unnatural invasion and tried not to think of what she was doing, but it was impossible not to. His testicles bounced against her chin and there was an odor of semen around his genitals which filled her nostrils with the constant reminder of the cruel act she was forced to commit.
"Oooooohhhhh, baby, that's it! That's it!" Holt began to chant, and he pumped into her tightly ovaled mouth with fevered strokes. "That's it! Milk it! Milk it!" He used his hands in her hair to make her head move in the tempo with his jerking loins, unmindful of any pain it might be causing Ann.
Down between her open legs, Ali was thrusting herself forward with great sawing lunges of her darting tongue, and made bestial sounds deep in her throat as her mouth and lips continued their lewd invasion of her now hungrily throbbing cuntal passage. And suddenly, losing all control a gasp of total lust escaped from between Ann's overfull mouth, and suddenly she found herself moving forward as if she wanted more of Holt's immense cock slicing her cheeks. And in that moment all the pain and terror and humiliation swept from her mind, leaving a new and stronger basic emotion. The emotion of sexual need! Her thighs clasped around Ali's flaying head as she seemed wonderfully filled with the woman's magic tongue. She worked her lips and teeth in a wild symphony of lascivious notes as she played upon the groaning Holt's hardened organ like a bitch gone insane. Oh God, she gasped to herself as the newly discovered awakening became reality to her brain. Oh God, I like it! I like this stranger's penis in my mouth and Ali's kissing lips upon my vagina... ohhhhh I never dreamed anything this perverted could be so good and wonderful...
She buffeted back against the sweetly nibbling face of Ali as she felt the first tentative waves of her climax seize hold of her. Her tongue and lips swirled around Holt's near-exploding prick, and she let little mewlings of pleasure escape from around it. Yes... yes... her own orgasm was almost there, in direct cadence with Holt's and Ali's. It won't be long now!
Holt gave a sudden, high-pitched roar and his pummeling shaft drove forward in her mouth, and he worked demon-like with long, brutal lunges against her larynx. "I'm cumming... I'm cumming... I'm... I'm cummmiiinnnggggg!!!!"
"Yes, yes me toooo!" came the muffled cry of Ali from deep inside Ann's vaginal valley. Her body thrashed out and she twisted and chewed with madly sucking lips on the young girl's tender pussy, fingers flailing in her own cunt.
Yesssss... so am I... so am I! Ann screamed internally. Oooohhhhh yyyyyeeesssss I'm cummmmiiinnngggg! Aaaaaaggggghhhhh!!!
She felt Holt's cock as he jerked convulsively and a great burning surge of his hot, thick cream of sperm flooded her mouth. She swallowed and swallowed, wondering mindlessly if his balls were somehow a never-ending cauldron, and the steaming liquid coursed down her throat and pooled in her stomach. He filled her mouth again and again, until no matter how tightly she held her lips over his spasming rod, his semen still gushed forth and flowed down her chin and dripped to the floor.
Ann's own climax happened then; a wild and intense release that shook her womb and opened the floodgates so her vaginal juices poured forth and drowned with their female essence Ali's still swirling tongue. She barely heard the older woman's final scream of orgasm, but felt her face heave in a final lunge against her cunt. In that moment she half insane with the rapture she felt, and for a few mindless, soulless moments she knew of nothing except the deflating cock draining slowly in her mouth and the deep, satisfying quivering that rippled for a seeming eternity down between her open thighs.
She lay warm and lethargic, completely fulfilled, and without any shame at all. What was the purpose of kidding herself any longer? It had served no function except to deceive her and stop her from enjoying her body. She had truly, undeniably enjoyed the lewd, salacious rape of her mouth by Holt while Ali's hot throbbing tongue wormed around in her vagina. The perverted seance a trois had produced an orgasm of unequalled brilliance, and she wanted it to be repeated over and over again. Gone now forever were all her prudish moral restrictions. She had become a woman of the flesh - and stopped being her mother's daughter - and now all that mattered was the beauteous satiation which flowed like claret wine through her veins. She knew that physical gratification was her personal Nirvana, and that she looked forward to whatever other lewd perversions might further be in store for her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
For Ann, the rest of the week sped by on wings. After her wild initiation into group orgy, and then the more lewd and perverted practices perpetrated on her aroused body by Ali and Michael Holt that third day out, Ann was overcome by her now unchained emotions. Her well-ingrained moral code pleaded with her to stop these horrid, defiling actions, but then her body would surrender again, egging her on to further lust-enriching experiences.
She was confused much of the time, searching her soul for definite answers to Man's age-old dilemma of ethics, and with no more success than the sages of the centuries. Vic Garret talked to her and Mark of the fact that there are no set, universal mores to life; but rather that the society and the individual decide on what is right or wrong... and as her young, innocent but willing mind soaked up his teachings like a thirsty sponge, she began to feel better and less guilty over her transgressions.
Then there were other times, when she shed her clothes and inhibitions and joined in group sex with trepidation at first, and then with surprising zeal. Mark constantly commented afterwards about how surprised he was over the enthusiasm she showed at such times, considering her past of prudish behavior. It was almost as if he was a little afraid of the fires that had been started in her - and once he had actually berated himself for being the cause of it. He had raped her that first night, he had said, and then in his mindless lust had allowed Ali to seduce him, and that he, not Ann, should bear the brunt of these indiscretions.
And then Ann suddenly found herself defending their newfound position. She had looked back in mind and word at the sweet virgin who had been shy before her husband's bed, and she could see the error of her ways. It was bound to happen, she had argued, for she was a woman, a full-blooded female with drives and yearnings which if she had been honest with herself, would have been allowed expression long before this voyage. She felt sorry for the girl who had boarded this ship, she had said, and sorry for other women entrapped by sterile and binding conventions of a previous century. But that was over, and now in the place of chains was a hungry cavernous maw which needed constant filling.
And Mark filled it. Over and over his throbbing cock sawed in and out of her thrill-seeking vagina, and as she locked her legs around her husband's driving buttocks, and her arms around his back, she knew instinctively that she was on the right path. She loved Mark with more than just soul - she loved him physically, giving and receiving all the pleasure Nature had built into her.
Not only Mark filled her physical needs, but so did the Garrets, and upon occasion, the Holts. It seemed as though when she wasn't being made love to by her husband, she was sliding up and down the lust-hardened cock of Vic Garret, or letting his wife kiss and suck her cunt - which, Ann discovered, brought intense happiness to the woman. Nights were spent in abandoned revelry, interrupted by discussions of politics or sports or whatever as the couples rested. Mark had been thoroughly shocked when he found out that his wife had sucked Michael Holt's penis before she had sucked his, but he soon got over that infantile jealousy when she showed him what she had learned...
She had showed him, mastering his cock with her lips and tongue as she expertly drew the sperm from his testicles. She had not confessed her active part as she had when she had first been fucked by Vic Garret - she reveled in the fact that she had tasted a male organ and liked its strange piquancy,- and her eyes had smouldered and then her whole body caught fire as Vic prodded her with his raging lust.
And yet, in those off hours which were not filled with eating or sleeping, or erotic games, Ann still found herself questioning... and every time she did, the same answer kept repeating itself. She enjoyed the lascivious, carnal pleasures of the flesh, and as long as it did not threaten harm to her marriage, she was going to enjoy them. They certainly didn't seem to be harmful to her relationship with Mark; in fact, just the opposite. It was as Garret had prophesied: greater harmony and love had been achieved, and if there was a greater proof to the success of this new venture, Ann knew of none.
So on the last night of the voyage to the Virgin Islands, Ann felt a strange combination of thrills and reticence as she sat at dinner. Kurt served the rump steak and creamed carrots and then the Bavarian creme dessert with his customary aplomb, and the table conversation was trivial and bantering, with most of it centered on what sights they would see in St. Thomas, and where the Garrets would take Mark and Ann, as they had been there many times before, and the Holts adding their suggestions.
Ann and Mark had stayed in their cabin since noon, exploring the depths of their passions as though there was no tomorrow. For some unknown reason she had not wanted to go swimming in the pool or sun out on the deck, but instead stayed in the somewhat muggy stateroom and frolicked with her new husband in the nude. There was the love juice on the sheets to prove the prowess of his drives, and the remembrance of bending over for the soap in the shower that let Ann know how well he liked her full rounded body... and as Ann talked across the table to the Garrets, she realized that the odd feeling of disquiet which had made her wish for reclucity on this day was one of intense love for her husband, a love which had transcended the desire to socialize, a love which had to be expressed in long, wonderful, physical couplings.
Yet there was no satisfied languidness to her now, no idyllic peacefulness soothing the fires of passion. She sat in her brief halter and shorts, trying to keep her composure but inwardly becoming more excited. Her chest felt constricted and she breathed heavily as her eyes darted from each of the others as the joking continued. Her pussy was tingling... ever tingling... and she could feel the nipples of her tender breasts harden like granite beneath the thin material. Her hand stroked Mark's leg under the table, and she could sense his mounting desire. There was nothing said, but needn't have been - everybody was aware of what inevitably lay ahead on this warm, balmy night.
They had been drinking all throughout the meal, and when Kurt had provided another round after dessert, the six of them trooped out on deck for some air. There was a lull to the conversation as they all looked at the shimmering black water around them, and at the spider web of sea-froth the ship threw aside as it knifed away the miles. Ann licked her dry lips and gazed over at Vic Garret with eyes that were slightly glazed from the liquor and the heat of her rising passions. Mark could feel hot eyes on his body, too, and when he raised his head to seek out their source, he found Harriet Holt staring with open sensuality on her smiling face.
Holt crossed to Ali and slid his hand around her waist. Ann caught her breath as she noticed that his tight pants had a noticeable bulge from his hardened cock. "Let's go for a swim, Ali," Holt said in a husky voice. "I'm hot."
Ali grinned back, stretching her arms so that her mountain-sized breasts pulled taut against her thin velour shirt. "I don't want to go all the way back to the cabin for my suit, Mike."
"I'm not wearing one underneath my pants," Holt said with a lewd grin. "I didn't figure on needing one."
"What? You mean you want to skinny dip?" Ali's voice was teasingly horrified. "Now?"
"Yeah, right now. With nothing but the moon between us."
"What about the crew?"
"They can join in if they want... and if you think you could handle them all."
Vic Garret laughed and Ann found herself giggling as well. It won't be long now, she thought, caught up in the erotic conversation. I can't wait much longer... and I can tell Mark can't either. His penis is as hard as Michael's, bulging out of his bermudas... and Harriet is eyeing his cock and wriggling her thighs as if her pussy is as hot as mine...
"I don't think I should, lover," All retorted, "Because you always get a hard on in the water."
"Damn right I do. But don't worry about the crew seeing it. You'll be hiding it between those long legs of yours the whole time."
Ali laughed at that and then turned to rub her breasts against his chest. "Let's go then, Mike. I don't believe you!"
They crossed to the steps leading to the after deck, and disappeared from view? Ann moaned inwardly and pressed her buttocks against the white railing. They're going to the pool and fuck... yes, and FUCK is the right word... and now there's only Mark and I and Vic and Harriet. Vic for me, and Mark for Harriet... that's the way it's going to be... the first time. And then there will be other combinations. Ali and Michael will come to the cabin where we'll be, and then they will want to join in again... and again... and again...
Ann couldn't contain the mewling of pure animal lustings which escaped from her constricted throat. She wanted a man... any man... any cock... NOW, and she sipped her drink with trembling lips and turned back to her husband. He was in an impassioned discussion with Vic Garret, talking of the American abroad with all the intensity of a person totally oblivious to what was going on around him, and Vic was conversing with just as much enthusiasm as though he was not aware that his wife had just walked off with another man to swim in the nude and screw in the water.
Ann sidled up to her husband and rubbed against him, her hand cupping around his groin tantalizingly. She found the sac of his testicles nestled in his thighs, and the long, thick cudgel of his erect penis as it lay against his left leg, trapped by the restricting bermudas. She remembered from when he had dressed before dinner that he was not wearing any underpants, and with the perversity of a female predatory animal in heat, she slowly fingered his zipper...
Mark gasped with the sudden touch to his privates, and faltered in his conversation. "I... that is, uh... no American likes to be taken in a foreign land."
Garret grinned as he saw what Ann was doing.
Ann looked up with wide, innocent eyes at her husband. "Go on, Mark. Don't let me stop you. I want to hear about Americans being taken abroad. I know a broad who loves to take any American she can."
This time Garret guffawed, and Harriet chuckled too. Mark grinned and blushed slightly, but managed to continue. "Ann, Vic doesn't believe that we should bend over backwards when we're in a strange land... I mean, that we shouldn't stop a native from giving us the shaft... no, that came out wrong too. Damnit, if you don't stop what you're doing, I'm going to tear into you right here."
"Save it for Harriet," Ann cooed. "I've got my hot sights on your friend here. I'm sure he won't mind going native with me."
"Not at all," leered Garret. "But your husband does have a point."
"A damned fine one," Mark said. "I really believe that our poor image overseas is because we look like a bunch of suckers to the people, throwing money around like water, rather than having some respect for it like they do."
"And I say that when I go on vacation I plan to enjoy myself, and to hell with what they think. Why should I care? I'll never be seeing them again," Garret retorted.
"The ugly American in person," Mark replied, shaking his head. "The world is too small these days not to care about other countries and what they think. Most of them are democracies where we visit, and if we show them that we're nothing but a bunch of boobs, they might vote Communistic... vote for the group who seem strong and cagy and more likely to win."
"Bull shit. Who's going to think that? Europe? We bailed them out of two wars, for Christ's sake. We saved their asses."
"Sure. And look at France. They despise us, just the same way a beggar despises the hand that feeds him. A soft touch, a dumb and innocent babe ready to be plucked... and with your attitude, that's exactly what they see when you visit them."
"So what do you advise?" - Garret asked sarcastically. "The we stop going there? That we stop aid and friendship?"
"Hell, no, I'm all for aid, and the Marshall Plan, and CARE when it was needed. But it isn't now, and when I go to Paris, I don't want to be considered some rube off the farm. I want to be respected as a thoughtful intelligent citizen of the most powerful country in the world. I want to be a little envied, I guess, because I think being an American is something to be envied, and not sneered at. And I can see that if we. don't play their rules in their country, we will be considered crass and stupid and childish. And one rule is that you don't take crap from anybody. You don't let them push you around."
"You push them around instead, I suppose?" Ann asked.
"Of course not, honey. All I'm saying is that one should be aware of their customs and language and con-games, and stop them from doing it to you - even if you can afford their little take."
"And I still say that being the world power gives us the privilege of being catered to." Garret rapped his hand on the railing for emphasis.
"Dammit, we earned the position, and if they don't like the way we are, that's their tough shit. I'm not changing for any monkey, let me tell you. And to give you an example of that, English has replaced French as the world language. It's now taught as the second language in most countries, and wherever I go, I expect that I will speak my tongue, and not theirs because I'm in an economic and social position to require it. And you better believe I will spend money carelessly, because I've earned that right as well. If some laborer in East Ubangi works for 20 cents a day and starves, that's his luck... I don't have to whittle my budget down to his scale just to try and please him." He paused to sip his drink and then added, "And if he thinks of me as a sucker, then he's stupider, for he's beneath me."
Ann had had enough of this controversial talk. She could feel her cunt throb with the building juices, and the crotch of her shorts began to soak up some of the seeping lubricants. She rubbed her hand harder along Mark's leg, and he groaned with sudden sexual fever.
"Speaking of what's below a sucker," she smiled coyly at Garret, "Why don't we go to your cabin and find out? I could be the sucker, if you like, and you could be beneath me... " She let the idea percolate through Garret's mind, and as it did, a wide, salacious grin spread across his face. It won't be long now, she thought to herself as Garret reached for her, and I'm hornier than I thought. First I'm going to kiss his penis, and then there will be other new and more fun combinations...
Mark watched with mixed emotions as Vic Garrett took Ann by the hand, guiding her staggering steps and weaving body as they walked toward the cabin. Ann was inebriated, there was no doubt of that in Mark's mind; inebriated and uninhibited because of the liquor. Perhaps if she hadn't drunk so much, she wouldn't have been so free with her words, so blatantly obvious with her burning desires... and then there was no more time to be concerned with the fate of his bride, for Harriet was beside him, smoothing her hands down her sides, then up again to cup her breasts in a provocative pose. Her eyes were burning and hungry, and her wet, pink tongue darted like a dancing snake over her lips. "Come on, Mark honey," she breathed heatedly, "It's time for us, now."
Mark swallowed and his cock ached as it beat against the cloth of his bermudas. In the background were the shrieks and yells of Ali and Holt in the otherwise deserted pool and the soft lappings of the ocean against the ship...
Slowly, Harriet turned, her sensual eyes locked on Mark's protuberance between his legs. With feline grace, she slowly unhooked the halter she was wearing and let it fall to the deck. Mark groaned as the full, pure white, ruby-tipped breasts hove into full view like the sudden appearance of snow covered mountains from a fog bank.
"Take them, honey," she commanded. "Play with them, and kiss them. Now."
"The cabin... " he started to say.
"In a while. Right now I want to be out here, right in the open air, and have you play with my tits." She squeezed them in emphasis, the nipples erect and inviting, and then Mark mindlessly brought his hands up to cup hers and the delicious mounds, and he ran his thumb and forefinger over the turgid buds, and then took one in his mouth and began to suck as if he was a hungry child breastfeeding. Low moans of growing passion came from Harriet's throat as he sucked and fondled...
Ann brushed against Vic Garret, squirming under his grip as they made their way down the hall to the cabin. She shivered from his touch on her body. She couldn't help it, for she had had too much to drink she realized, and the alcohol seemed to release her inner spirit - the spirit of sex. And whenever she was around Vic Garret, the only thing she could think about was sex. Her body reacted responsively, sending ripples of pleasure and desire swirling throughout her flesh.
Kurt came around the corner from the pantry, and smiled at them as he stopped to let them pass.
"Guten Abend," he said cheerfully. "Can I get you anything? "
"No... no," Ann replied, and she shook her head nervously. Damn, why was that man always around at the wrong times? Here she was, all but embracing another man, and this fat German steward was right there, all eyes and ears. He seemed to grin at her embarrassment, and then as she passed him, he almost seemed to be mentally undressing her. His hand came in contact with the smooth curve of her buttocks, seemed to linger there for a split second longer than necessary as though his touch was no accident.
And Vic... what was the matter with him? Was that a wink he gave to Kurt? No... no, that couldn't be right. It was pure imagination and nothing more. She was on edge tonight, it being the last night before docking and everything... sort of the culmination to the trip.
Once inside the Garret's cabin, she felt a great deal better, as though the door being shut made her actions proper and livable. She looked up at Garret, who was breathing heavily and raking her firm bride's body with lustful gaze. "I want you," he whispered hoarsely.
"Yes, Vic... take me... " she moaned almost incoherently.
He wrapped his powerful, all-enveloping arms around her, nearly crushing the wind from her lungs. They kissed long and hard, their tongues sliding in and out of one another's mouths, licking their lips and feeling the ridges along the roof and pooling their saliva in a passionate whirlpool of sensuality.
Then his hands dipped lower, cupping her breasts, while still maintaining the lover's embrace. The soft buds of her breasts rose to full erection, and she could feel his blood-engorged cock slip along her thigh and belly as he rubbed against her flesh. Tremors of flaming lust eddied deep in the core of her stomach, and she responded by grinding her pelvis into his penis.
"Damn you, Vic," she seethed from beneath clenched teeth. "You set me on fire, you know you do. I can't resist you... Ohhhhhh... " she moaned, her eyes closed as she yielded her succulent womanhood to his delicious manipulations. Her hips began to rotate in time with his hands as they moved still lower, down and then across the bare flat plane of her velvety smooth belly. His finger tips paused tantalizingly at the waistband of her shorts.
"Uhhhhhhh," she gasped heatedly. "Lower, Vic, touch me lower. Oh Christ, I think I'm so hot I'm going to explode!"
Vic chuckled faintly, in a low, obscene ripple of lasciviousness, and then he slipped his hand inside her shorts, caressing the soft rounded skin of her lower abdomen. She wriggled so that his hand went a little lower... and he grazed her soft resilient pubic hair. She shuddered and pressed against him... and then his finger found the pulsating little nub of her clitoris, and he flicked it teasingly.
"Ohhhhhhh... ohhhhhhhhh," she groaned uncontrollably.
"Come on, Ann, baby, I want you to do what you promised out there on deck. I want you to suck my cock. I want you to put my hot penis into the soft mouth of yours, rub those sweet lips up and down it and fan that black hair around my belly and balls and lick and suck and kiss me... " His lewd words drove any last-minute thoughts of propriety from Ann's liquor-fogged mind. Her young, still-inexperienced cunt was soaked in anticipatory moisture, and the palm of his hand was slipping gently over her vaginal hole. God, I want him! she cried out to herself, I want to suck him just as he ordered me to. I want to feel that mammoth cock of his buried to my throat, fucking in and out of my mouth. I don't care about anything else in this whole world except Vic Garret's hard, exciting penis!
"Yes, Vic... yes, yes... anything you want. I want to please you... ohhhhhh!" She put her tongue back in his mouth in a simulated action of what his cock would be like in her mouth, and then she bit his lips gently while her hips ground harder and faster against him and the maelstrom of lust which was her body now boiled uncontrollably.
Garret continued his maddening encircling of her clitoris and cunt, and he began to lead her toward the door to Holt's cabin. "In there... in Holt's cabin, Ann," he said, "In case the others come back and want to use this bed... " Obediently, still clinging to him, with his hand still insinuated inside her shorts, Ann allowed Vic Garret to take her into the adjoining cabin. There, in front of the freshly made bed, he kissed her long and hard and then stepped away and began to shed his few clothes.
"Strip, Baby!" he ordered feverishly. "Get out of that sun suit and be naked!"
She pulled and tore at the two binding garments, her mind mesmerized with lust, her eyes slavishly held to Garret's suddenly exposed cock, gigantic and throbbing and angrily purplish as it jerked in the air with anticipation.
Garret fell back on the bed, spreading his legs and thighs wide to allow her room to kneel between them.
Wild with seething emotions, the young bride took advantage of his mute offer and crouched there, her knees touching his hirsute flesh, and her hands resting gently on his upper thighs where they molded into his groin. She lowered her head, her eyes feasting on her target, her moistened lips parted... And then she slowly slipped ,her famished mouth down over the smooth, rubbery head of his cock and she began to suck him softly, running her tongue wetly around and around the tip and teasing his dilated glans slit agonizingly with the tip of her tongue.
Then, with a cry of abandoned desire gushing from her mouth, she bobbed faster and faster over the shaft of manly flesh, sucking and kissing with complete slavishness, her tongue flashing and Garret's buttocks churning wildly on the bedspread. His hands wrapped themselves in her raven hair, and the soft silky strands were like a curtain to the lusting mouth pictured within their frame. He arched his back and forced her head down, and still more of his throbbing male organ was swallowed by her tender cheeks. Ann could feel the softness of the head touch back against her larynx, and further tendrils of sexual excitement spread through her quivering body. She strove to draw his very life essence along the tubular passage of his beautiful, monstrous cock.
Suddenly Ann heard the cabin door-open, and she turned to see who it was. Ali and Michael returning from their swimming? Perhaps her husband and Harriet... and then her eyes flew open and from her position with her mouth completely engulfing Vic Garret's penis, she made out the squat form of the steward, Kurt, standing in the archway. My God! What's he doing here? was her first wild thought. And... her questions was soon answered.
"I was wondering... if you were going to get here in time, Kurt," Garret panted from beneath her. "She's damned good... I was almost ready to cum!"
"Ach! Sehr gut!" Kurt stepped closer to Ann, his lips wild with uncontrolled, animalistic lust, and his lips skinned back in a snarl of salacious delight. He undid the buttons of his white pants and let them drop around his feet, then kicked them off along with his shoes while he unbuttoned his shirt and removed his black tie. His cock was already bulging against his undershorts.
Ann's mind was a confused jumble now, for it was almost as if he and Garret had planned this! Vic's words... and that wink in the hall... yes, yes, of course! It was inconceivable and unreal... but true!
Then Kurt lowered his undershorts and he stood nude before the couple. His penis was thick and long with a large bulbous head, and was a pale ghostly color, as though his flesh were somehow encased in some pallorous sheath. Ripples of horror flashed through Ann's tormented mind, and she felt sick to her stomach. She suddenly found Garret's cock in her mouth repulsive and she wanted to spit it out, but she was unable to move, held firmly as she was by Garret's steel-hard hands.
Oh God! she moaned inwardly, Oh God!... and then Kurt was on the bed behind her, and the hot expulsions of his fetid breath against her ivory buttocks made her flesh crawl with repulsion. Then his fingers were touching her; fat lily-white fingers that dipped into the moist crevice of her buttocks, spreading them wider, opening her tiny anal hole to his lusting and obscene view. She tried once again to twist away, but Garret flexed his hips and drove his penis deeper into her mouth and with his hands held her face in place.
"Mein Gott! But what a beautiful little asshole!" Kurt exclaimed.
"Shut up and put your cock in it, you Bavarian pervert," Garret cried out. "I can't wait for you to sightsee all day!" And then to Ann he said in a softer tone, "Easy, baby, it'll be all right."
No! Oh God in heaven, I can't let him do it to me back there... and yet, what can I do? Nothing!...
Nothing! She was trapped between the two rapacious men, and she knew that fight as she might, she would be forced to submit to their lusting whims. And when she felt the first probing touch of Kurt's smooth rubbery cock against her tiny sphincter ring, and then the movement as he lowered it slightly and allowed his penis to moisten itself in her vaginal juices below, she gagged with the nausea of fear and disgust.
"Suck it, Ann," Garret moaned, beginning to pump his still-bloated cock in and out of her quivering mouth. "Suck me... you'll like Kurt's cock inside you once he gets started.
Believe me! You'll like it once you get used to it."
"Ja wohl!" Kurt growled. "It will feel good, miein Liebchen. You wait and see!"
"Do it, Kurt! For Christ's sake do it and stop talking!" Garret commanded harshly.
No, no, no! wailed Ann's tortured mind, but it was too late. With a brutal, sadistic shove of his loins, Kurt rammed forward, his cock soaring with savage and merciless force against her closed anus. It tore through the tender membranes like a berserk machine of vengeance and her rectum parted to his war-like attack. Her anal tunnel was suddenly filled with blinding, searing pain, and Ann cried out with excruciating agony around Garret's throbbing prick.
"AAAaaaaahhhhhgggggrrrrrrr!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ann was delirious from the double screwing of her mouth and rectum. She moaned around the giant phallus which was filling her mouth and tried to scream once more, but her face was too contorted to allow any noise to pass her widely stretched lips. The pressure of the steward's monstrous cock and his thick muscular thighs forced her rectum still wider, opening to Kurt the full warm depths of her tightly resisting anal channel.
"Oh God! Stop! I can't take you there!" mewled Ann from around Garret's charging penis. "Stop!" Her cry was one of pain and humiliation at being defiled by this complete stranger, and he in turn laughed heartily and plunged his invading penis further into her entrails.
"Come on, Ann," panted Garret from above her, "Relax. If you'll only relax, you'd find that you'd enjoy it!"
Relax! How could anybody relax when their insides felt as if they were being torn apart. Ann cried out her anguish and tried to squeeze her tortured anus together with the force of her sphincter muscles. But it was of no use. Kurt gave a quick thrust of his ham-like thighs, and his lust-hardened penis surged onwards until his pubic hair was pressed flat against her buttocks. Then he slowly withdrew, and the pain of his movement again brought forth piteous groans from Ann, and then in again he went. He looked down in lustful delight as his turgid cock with its peeled back foreskin rammed through her tightly ovalled anus.
"Aaaagg!" cried out Ann. "It hurts!"
"Mein Gott! A virgin, yes?" Kurt grunted and then said, "ach, I got a virgin, ach!"
He began to pump without mercy, crooning with unbridled delight as he ground every centimeter of his cock in and out and through her bowels, his pubic hair teasingly grazing her buttocks.
Ann was mindless with the pain, and she clawed the bedsheets and moaned around the cock in her mouth to ease the raging fire of his invasion... and then the pain began to lessen slightly and a strange wetness could be felt between her legs. A masochistic ambivalence of agony and rapture began inside her loins, and her body started to undulate in tiny circles. Relax... and you'll enjoy it, Garret's command repeated in her broken mind, Relax...
Ann suddenly recalled that Ali had said the exact same thing, and when she had allowed herself to accept and desire, she had enjoyed Ali's lesbian ministrations fantastically. Could this be the same? Could she be fighting when she should be asking for more? Was this just another example of her prudish shackles stopping her from being a true and honest and responsive woman? She didn't know... she knew nothing except the presence of these two rampaging penises... and the unalterable fact that Kurt was no longer hurting her. There seemed to be a tingling, weirdly pleasurable sensation in her groin, different from being fucked in her vagina, but definitely just as exciting and climax building. Oh, did she dare relax and enjoy this sodomistic perversion? Oh... oh... she could not HELP but relax and enjoy!
Her fevered mind began to fill with the torrential explosion of the double drumming cocks. All else - self-guilt, hesitations, incriminating remorse - were pushed to the side as she centered on the growing lusts which were swamping her fiber and flesh. She found herself responding with automatic greed, and that her hand as if of a life by itself, was reaching underneath her body and up between her legs and stroking the soft dangling testicles of the steward. Then her hand found her cuntal opening which was dilated and wet, and her fingers began to rub hungrily the soft hair-lined lips of her vagina, teasing the throbbing clitoris in time to Kurt's pounding penis. Her complexion changed from the pallor of fear to the flush of sexual frenzy, and she bared her teeth around Garret's cock as further blasts of overwhelming perversion emanated from her widened rectum.
"Yes... " she heard herself moan uncontrollably. "Yes, fuck my ass-hole, fuck it hard!" She heaved backwards, swallowing the last fraction of his driving cock into the warm rubbery depths of her tightly clasping rectum. "Fuck my AASSS!" Dear God! She was hopelessly impaled! Her brain was fired by her lewdness, and suddenly a new thought surged through her mind.
What if Mark were to see her now? How low and depraved he would think his young bride to be... and how she would be guttered by his condemnation! She would hate to be discovered like this by her husband! Hate? No, be honest with yourself, Ann... you would love it! Yes! Yes!
Sensuous thrills raced through her, and she resumed the twin task of sucking and fucking the mammoth axis which ran through her front and behind. Yes, what was missing was Mark, and it was too bad he wasn't there with her now... that would be the final culmination of her wildly desperate search for freedom!
* * *
Mark had never known or dreamed of anything like this in all his life. It was indescribably ecstasy, and his mind was overcome with enrapturement. As he stepped from the small bathroom where he had retired after fucking Ali to completion, he found a panorama of erotic debauchery spread before him like a scene from pagan Rome. On the bed lay Ali, face up, her beautiful buttocks grinding around in the air. On top of her, face down, was Harriet! They were kissing and fondling one another, their breasts mashed in an embraced union of lovemaking, their groins churning together wildly... and right behind them was Michael Holt! He squatted on his haunches, his hardened staff jutting from his thick pubic hair, and incredibly, he was fucking both women at the same time! First he entered his wife's cunt, would stroke and then withdraw, only to plunge into Ali's hungry pussy... and then return to Harriet and then back to Ali! It was fantastic!
Even though he had ejaculated twice so far tonight, Mark felt his cock once more begin to throb like a furious stallion goaded into a frenzy. He stepped nearer the trio, and then Harriet broke her embrace and smiled back at him.
"Ohhhh," she whimpered, "Stop it, Michael. I want Mark for awhile. I suddenly have the hots for Mark... " she wriggled free of Ali and Holt and tumbled to the floor. She started for Mark. "Fuck Vic's wife alone for awhile, dear," she called back over her shoulder. The lewd adulterous couple were writhing in their bed of bliss and barely acknowledged the fact she was gone. Mark grinned salaciously at Harriet, realizing that he was far from finished for the night, not with the perverted action of what he was witnessing making his penis grow like wildfire! He looked around the cabin, not wanting to make love on the hard floor, and then he thought of the Holt cabin. It had a nice bed... and then he remembered his wife. She was in there with Vic!
Lucy... and that satyr named Vic Garret!
Jesus Christ! They've been in there a long time. Maybe they're asleep, or perhaps they've even dressed and left to go get a drink... he had to look in there and see... he had to know what they were doing...
Mark trembled as he and Harriet slowly opened the cabin door. Harriet was just as curious and just as excited at the prospect of viewing whatever was going on in there as he was - more so, if the truth be known, for she was far more conditioned to the perversions of the body than Mark. With his introductory newness and the fact that it was his bride in there, he was filled with a certain amount of trepidation as well as interest. Nevertheless, he could not have stayed away from that voyeuristic urge even if he had wanted to!
Within, bathed in the cool moonlight from the open portholes, he saw the bed and his wife upon it. He looked closer at the two other writhing forms, and then his eyes widened in horror as he recognized the man who was systematically raping her anus!
"Oh Jesus!" he blurted out, "it's Ann! She's being... " he choked on the words, "She's... "
"Mama Mia!" whispered Harriet beside him. "It's Kurt! He's screwing her in the ass while Vic is shoving his cock in her mouth!"
From the Garret bed came the startled cry, "Kurt?" Ali looked over at the door, and Holt stopped his wild drubbings. "Did you say Kurt is in there?" she asked again.
"Yes!" Harriet rubbed against Mark. "Oohhhh, and is he giving it to Ann!"
Holt swore under his breath. "That damned steward. He can't keep his cock to himself, can he? Every trip, he has to crash our little parties!"
"Who cares, Mike? The more the merrier, I say! Let me up, I got to see him in action. He could always throw a mean fuck, that man!"
A second later, Holt and Ali were crowding around the doorway, staring at the three on the bed. Ali groaned. "God, are they enjoying it!" she breathed huskily, "Look at them go!"
"Christ yes," Holt gasped, "I've got the biggest hard-on you ever saw, just watching them!"
Ann heard their conversation and hoarse, breathing and a wild sensation lanced through her body. She plunged her hand deeper into her cunt, touching the charging cock of Kurt through the thin membrane of flesh separating her anus and vagina as she did while her other hand firmly grasped Garret's prick while he orally fucked her ovalled mouth. She realized that Mark was among the spectators at the door, and she salaciously pressed herself against the two men who imprisoned her, jerking her buttocks and lips in an effort to set Mark's passions afire.
For she felt free, completely, thoroughly free at last! The final fetter of decency drooped, and she dared to revel where before she would have stopped in abject terror. Her past frustrations, resentments and repressions burst from her heaving brain like a series of angry boils.
Mark gaped at the erotic, narcissistic scene of his sweet bride being buffeted between the two men like a rag doll. His loins throbbed, and Harriet was tantalizingly fondling his rigid penis, biting his ear, endeavoring to work his hand in between her legs. But Mark was beside himself with shock, and he continued to stare open-mouthed at Ann as she performed the lewdest of acts before this depraved lusting audience... and there was nothing he could do about it!
Oh God! Is this what I have caused? Mark's mind blasted with the revelation of what his bride was engaged in. She was being fucked in the ass! By the steward, Kurt! And while she was taking his cock, she was purring with increased bliss around the damnably prurient penis of Garret! And she's enjoying the whole salacious act! She let Ali suck her cunt... FIRST! She had told him that she would never let that happen, but she had... and then she sucked Holt's cock before she would go down on him... and now, now, she has the gall to let him see her being sodomized by some fat German waiter... by a foreign stranger... when she swore that the whole idea of sodomy was so repugnant to her that she would never allow it to happen ever!
And yet he was struck by the self-accusation that it was his fault that she had become this perverted bitch... his fault entirely and not hers. He had started this loathsome circus when he allowed Ali to seduce him that first day... if he had stopped it then or even later... but no, his brains had all been in the end of his cock, and he had blindly gone on, dragging Ann resistingly behind him. And now she was a totally depraved woman, the evil consequence of his momentary weakness. Oh God... is it too late? Can I do nothing? I've made a terrible mistake! I thought that I... Oh God, please help me! Don't let this tear our new marriage apart!
He barely was aware of Ali and Holt as they pushed past his frozen body. Ali was kneading her own breasts and rubbing her inflamed cunt lips, and Holt put his hand around his cock and stroked the tuberous growth in time to the humping three-some in front of them.
"Ohhhh, I can't bear to just watch," moaned Holt.
"C'mon, let's join them... " hissed Ali and still handling her genitalia in frantic abandon, she began to cross the cabin floor to the bed. Holt pursued, his breath short, gasping wheezes of lust. "Yes... yes... yes... " he repeated.
Ann's eyes lowered at the sound of their licentious words. Yes... yes... come one, come all... and then cum together! Use me... use my body to your most crazed desires... I want everything and anything to happen... every opening, every hand filled with hard jerking cocks...
Ann mewled her urgings as Garret's swollen, blood-pumped shaft continued to surge inside her mouth like some proud and mighty piston. She rubbed his penis with her one hand, trailing her fingers along his rubbery, wettened shaft as it slid in and out of her mouth, tickling the leathery sac and pressing slightly the two sperm-filled testicles within it, rolling them around and gaining a gasp of sheer ecstasy from Garret's straining mouth. Her hips moved backwards to meet the upthrust of Kurt's penis as he crammed it into her rectum and then forward again to swallow the whole of Vic Garret's plunging cock into her hot sucking mouth. Her complete body undulated like a ball between these two men, and her buttocks and head moved in tiny abandoned circles.
"MMMMmmm... mmmmm... mmmmm," she chanted in muffled tones in tune to their crushing thrusts against ass-hole and mouth. Wilder and wilder they became, punishing her between them like a puppet, and all three of them groaned in an intermingling of mad sexual license.
Ali was the first to reach the bed, and without hesitation, she crawled up and balanced herself over Ann, straddling her back the way one would ride a horse - only backwards. She moved closer to the now drooling Kurt Romer, feasting in the lustful gaze of his popping eyes. He took his hands off the ass-cheeks of Ann as they were no longer needed to hold the bride down and stationary, and began to caress and tease Ali's large excitement-hardened breasts. A low wail bubbled from Ali's passion-contorted face, and she jerked closer to Kurt and stood a little higher and offered her twitching cunt to his questing nostrils.
He breathed deeply of the fragrant pussy, and then grabbed Ali by the waist and pulled her crotch closer, closer until his whole fatty face was buried in her soft pubic growth.
"Suck me, Kurt," Ali moaned in a tremulous voice, "put that big German tongue of yours deep into my cunt... ooohhh," and as Kurt's head whipped from side to side, she trembled and quaked with ever-increasing fervor. "Oooohhh, yes... yes!"
"Mein Gott! Mein Gott," came the almost inaudible babblings of Kurt as he endeavored to suck and lick and kiss the splayed cunt before him in the same tempo as his ramming cock. "It is the finest of perfume! Mein Gott. the finest!"
The convulsive explosions inside her vaginal slit made Ali almost weep with joy. She leaned back so as to offer still more of her pink slippery pussy to the steward and clasped her handsome husband around the shoulders for support. She turned her upper body a bit so that they could kiss, and as his hands closed around her breasts and manipulated the beauteous gland to rock firmness, she murmured, "I love you, Vic! Ohhhhh... I love you so much!"
Then Holt was on the bed, but he was frantically looking for some way of getting to Ali, pulling on his penis in ever-increasing fury until Mark thought he was going to pull it right off. Holt said nothing, but there was the wild-eyed gleam in his eyes as he savored over the quartet of perversion, and first he would hop beside one and then over to another and then around to a third in his attempt to assuage the growing agony in his semen-drenched penis.
Harriet had taken Mark's fingers now, and in spite of his near-comatose stance, had managed to insinuate two of them between the moist lips of her own pulsating vagina, but she was unable to get Mark interested in her. He continued to stare at his bride in unbelievable horror as she ( twisted her buttocks and gave full access to the tiny coral-hued anus. He watched mesmerically as she sucked at Garret's penis as a calf might suck his cow-mother's teat, and the cunnilingus being performed on Ali above by the steward.
"Please... Mark... let's go in there and join them," Harriet begged. She began to grind her own overheated cunt gapingly against his hand and simultaneously stroke his aching cock more vigorously. But Mark was still too engrossed to know what she was doing, saying or wanted.
"C'mon," Harriet moaned softly. "C'mon and let's fuck and watch them... " Mark only stared straight ahead of him in unblinking fascination. In the back of his erotically fogged brain came a jumble of words and questions... "Oh, Dear Christ, could this be my young innocent bride? Is it possible? And even as he thought of these things, and Harriet engulfed his testicles in her soft, delicate, warm palm, he knew that the answer was~ yes, unbelievingly yes...
And she's loving every minute of this obscene performance!
He groaned from self abomination. He could see Kurt's huge thick rod disappearing and reappearing between her sucking, fish-like anal lips, her long disheveled hair flowing down over Garret's cock, her firm round tits dancing beneath her heaving chest as though they had puppet strings attached to their nipples.
He wanted to cry, to scream and pull his bride's suddenly insatiable body from between the three naked bodies, but he could not. His prick ached and throbbed, and he was only able to stand transfixed, hypnotized by his young wife's mercilessly buffeted form. Unconsciously he began to follow the rhythm Kurt was setting with his cruel sawing in and out of her asshole. Wilder went the beat, punishing Ann more and more, and she moaned in muted voice from around Garret's fleshy rod as it fucked into the receptive cavern of her mouth.
Harriet had left him now, her own needs amplified beyond her ability to control them. She took her husband from the bed and then she sunk to her knees, and he mounted her dog-fashion on the floor, and their grunts and moans of sexual depravity added to the already-filled air of the cabin as they watched the four on the bed...
And that left only Mark out. The sight of the rampant abuses of his bride's helpless body filled his brain, making him reel with insane throbbings. He could hardly breathe. He had never in his most wild fantasies ever dreamed of such debauchery... never hoped he could be part of one... never considered his wife as being involved... and yet, there she was, the ringleader of depravity! It was more than he could take!
He staggered forward, his hardened cock pointing the way like a divining rod. He was an uncontrollable animal, angered at his puritanical bride's acceptance of such immorality, furious at being the core of her change and frustrated to the point of torture at not having a sexual outlet from his horrendously exciting tableau. He was a melting pot of agonies with the fire raging in his furnace of lust and his cock like an ingot of steel made from such forgings. He banged his shins on the bureau and thrust his hands out for guidance, his one roaring thought to somehow, in some way, punish himself and her as she was punishing them by her obscene surrender to the men on the bed.
"I'm... going to fuck you... " he growled as he stood by the bed, "Ann... "I'm going to fuck the shit out of you!"
"Uuuuuummm!" moaned Ann through her contorted lips. Her husband's words penetrated her insatiable brain, adding unquenchable passion to her soul. Mark, entranced by the most loathsome and carnal acts of sex possible... and he wanted her! She suddenly shivered with love for her man, a love deep and abiding, and she was exhilarated by the freedom she was now given. She wanted Mark very badly... but she wanted these other men, too. Yes, and even wanted Ali on top of her... she wanted her love and sex both... and she was going to have it! Oh God above! She was the luckiest of the lucky!
Mark climbed upon the bed and viewed once more the scandalous scene before him. He licked his dry lips and glanced down at his fully erect penis and then back at the four acrobats of lewdness. Ah, it was almost too good to believe! Yes, yes, he had made the right decision! He wanted to join in... He had to! He had to pillage and rape his young bride's body along with the others - and it was a rape, even if she was accepting it. His lust bloated his cock to bursting as he anticipated adding his own corrupting actions.
"Hurry!" cried Harriet as she wormed back her tight little vagina on her husband's brutal penis. "I want to see you in Ann! Hurry, before I cum!" Then Holt thrust his penis deeper inside Harriet and she howled from the force, her buttocks split apart, and her soft wet fleece of pubic hair quivering from his blows. "Hurry, Mark... Huurryy!"
Ali glanced from her position above Ann, and with a crazy shake of her sex-crazed head, she wailed, "Yes, Mark... join us... join us now! I can feel my cum and my husband is almost... almost there tooo!"
"My balls are about to explode!" shouted the jerking Garret, and he strove to pump harder still into Ann's still hungrily sucking mouth.
Mark needed no further urging. He lay down on his back, and with his hands he spread Kurt's thick legs wider, and then he worked his way between them then between his bride's thighs until his face was level with her searing cunt. He removed her still masturbating fingers, and in their place he kissed her pussy savagely and wormed his tongue deep inside her, and he could feel Kurt's surging cock through the vaginal membranes as the steward anally fucked Ann. The tremors and Ann's mewlings of sensuality caused him to spur onward.
Ann found tears rolling from her eyes and slipping between her lips as the delirium of the three men caused her to literally cry from the ecstasy. She shoved her cunt lower upon her husband's face while he massaged her pink salubrious slit and vibrating clitoris, and then he began to slide further up her body, and the sudden rush of air as he left her wet vagina made her tingle and shiver.
Then she felt his stiff, upraised cock brush where his lips had been, and she ground lower, forcing Kurt to bend a bit... but the heavy-set steward only grinned from the salacious knowledge of what Mark was attempting, and then he was groveling in Ali's cunt again, lost in the reverie of her sweet secretions. Ach, it was wonderful! he thought wildly. It is always like this every time these crazy Americans named Garret take this boat! If only all his voyages were this good!
Mark surged upwards as though he had the devil's trident between his legs instead of his penis. And in response, Ann's tender cunt seemed to suck his cock inside it, opening and then closing around his shaft with all the precision and strength of a belly-dancer's muscle control. There was only the thin membrane of her vaginal wall separating the two men's cocks, and after a moment they got into cadence, sliding along their respective tunnels like pistons in an engine. First one and then the other rammed to its hilt, consecutive rods of tidal-wave force, pumping and pulsating against her twin channels of writhing lust.
"Ooohhh!" Ann screamed around Garret's still fucking cock. Although her lips were stretched and sensation filled, she was able to add, "More! More! Don't ever stop!"
They gave her more, Mark and Kurt, their heavy balls slapping skin and flesh as they thoroughly bored Ann's vaginal and anal passages, and their lubrications all seemed to pool in the pink inch of flesh between the dual-driven openings.
Mark looked upwards, and as he was even with his bride's lovely face, he was able to take in all the masterful sight of his wife sucking Garret's cock. The details were sharp. Her teeth clung to Garret's rod on the outswing, only to have her lips close back over the shaft again as it thrust back in. She fondled the tender sac of balls which bobbed beneath the man's swollen member, and she managed to use her forefinger and thumb to beat a little of the skin at the base. Her hair flayed on both sides: a curtain of fine silk to the picture of perversion, and Mark was spurred onward in increased tempo at the lovely view.
And then Garret jerked spasmodically, groaning with increased loudness, and he moved all the way back so that his cock-head was removed from Ann's nibbling lips. "I'm... I'm ccuummiinngg!" He screamed deliriously, and as she held her mouth open, his jerking cock spurted its fiery semen in a hard, jet-like stream. Ann's mouth caught the surging sperm, her gullet working at a tremendous rate to keep up with the never-ending pumpings. Yet not once did she close her mouth or take a breath as Garret shot his load of steaming cum across the narrow channel between cock and mouth. Then Kurt, yelling in German, humped demon-like, his hips but a blur as he experienced his orgasm. Thick fluid burst from the end of his penis to flood her warm clamping anal channel and make her belly quiver from the force of his climax, and his balls spasmed as they released the full force of his enema-like ejaculation inside her widely stretched rectum.
Then from above, the distinctive wail of the blonde woman cut the air, and her legs gripped Ann's sides like a nutcracker. "Ooooogghh Kurt! Your mouth is the best! Ooohh! I've cum! I've cum! OOOhhhh!"
Ann thrust her buttocks back on the monstrously expanded columns of her lovers, her every muscle in an catatonic contraction. Her anal sphincter closed around Kurt's ejaculating penis, and her cunt muscles rippled along Mark's cock, and she let the rain of Anderson's seed fill her mouth to overflowing. Her orgasm hit like a bowling ball hits tenpins, sending pinwheels of kaleidoscoping colors flashing through her mind, a blinding spectrum of intense completion. Her very soul was tossed helplessly about by the immense power of her primordial release.
And Mark - churned to a frothing animal of sensuality, burning with the fever of sex as he screwed his bride and watched Garret drain the milk of his balls above him, began to jump and twitch, and then he lifted his ass and blasted his hot searing cream deep, deep into Ann's waiting womb. He writhed furiously and continued to shoot into the vagina of his bride an unending charge of heated sperm, a madly gyrating container of semen which filled her cunt and flowed from her vulva lips and ran down between his legs to pool in the bedsheets below.
Ann, as the last little drop came from Garret's already deflating penis, swallowed and licked her lips and then lowered her face and kissed her husband passionately on the lips.
"I love you," she murmured affectionately. "Oh, my darling... " whispered Mark, "you are the finest wife a man could be blessed with."
Mark's and Kurt's cocks slowly went limp and Kurt sat back on his haunches, breathing heavily as though he had been running all day. Ann squirmed down upon her husband, not wishing for him to withdraw as Kurt had, and she nuzzled his ear and neck. Ali was leaning against the wall, a glazed look in her eyes, and Garret had a satisfied smug grin across his features. "That was great," Garret said. "Wunderbar!" extolled Kurt, "absolutely wonderful!"
They were quiet for a moment, and then Ali said, "Hey! The Holts! They haven't cum yet! Look at them, will you?"
And sure enough, on the floor were the still fucking duo, but it was evident that Harriet and Michael were soon to realize their climaxes, for they strained and heaved wildly against one another, their flesh and sinew surging together in a melody of sexual harmonies. Ann rolled over and placed her head on Mark's heaving chest, and the five on the bed watched the lewd show near them, occasionally shouting encouragements or jokes. Ann looked down at her husband and saw that the Holt's activities was giving him a newfound erection, and she reached a hand down and began to rub his again rising penis with her palm. His hips began to resound with urgency.
The fucking on the floor began to arouse all of them again in empathic stimulation. Kurt stroked his cock and Ali, repaying his kindness of previous moments, moved and placed her lips over his head, not moving her mouth but merely breathing feverishly on his cock as he masturbated, and she looked forward to his cumming which would shower her mouth with semen. Vic boldly replaced Ann's hand on Mark's turgid expanse and sucked on Ann's cunt while he played with her husband, and by a quick swinging of his hips, he was able to push his huge weapon into Ali's cunt.
The Holts came with squeals and yells, but the evening did not end at that point. It went on for hours with a thousand different variations of perversions. One, two, three - all seven grouped in entanglements of sexual lustings, fucking and sucking and fondling and cumming over and over. At last, as the new hours of the morning broke through the windows, Kurt had to dress and leave for breakfast duty. The remaining partners, cuddled together in somnambulistic reverie and smiled at him happily as he stood by the cabin doorway, adjusting his black tie.
"Good morning Kurt," Ali said dreamily. "You needn't bother calling me for breakfast."
"You mean 'good night," Holt said with a sigh.
Ann wrapped herself tighter in her new husband's arms. "Yes, good night Kurt. I'm going to sleep for a week."
"Ach! You can not! We reach St. Thomas in another four hours." He chuckled. "But gute Nacht, Ann, you little Liebchen. You are the greatest." And as he started closing the door, he added, "and you too, Mark."
The young newlyweds fell into blissful sleep immediately, contented, complete and spiritually unified.
CHAPTER NINE
The hot tropical sun streaming in through the opened windows in their cabin woke Ann from a deep dreamless sleep. She moaned with contentment, rolling over, her hand searching for the warm nakedness of the man she loved. Mark was not there, and her eyes snapped open instantly with concern; she sat up in the hide-a-bed, looking sleepily around, and the thin sheet fell from her firm high breasts. He had brought her back to the cabin in his gentle arms after Kurt had left and gone to bed with her then. Where... ?
Ann relaxed as she saw the nude form of her husband standing at the windows and looking out. Her eyes lowered to his loins in profile, and she gazed fondly and lovingly at his limp penis lying nestled in the hammocks of his soft deflated testicles. I love you, Mark, she thought drowsily. And I love your penis, your beautiful love-giving, life-giving penis.
He seemed to sense her eyes on him, and he turned to smile warmly and tenderly at his bride of less than two weeks. "Hi, sweetheart," he said. "How's the world's most beautiful woman and the universe's finest and bestest piece of ass?"
She giggled, dimpling at the compliment. "Fine," she answered. "Wonderful, in fact. What time is it?"
"Almost noon," Mark told her. "We're steaming into St. Thomas right now. Should be docking in less than an hour, I'd guess. Come on over to the window; it's quite a sight."
Ann smiled teasingly, "I've got a better idea, honey," she said. She moved the sheet away from her legs and spread her alabaster thighs wide apart, revealing to his eyes the softly hair-fringed beauty of her cuntal furrow. She watched his cock, saw with some pride that it gave a convulsive little shudder and began to come erect at the sight of her womanhood so provocatively displayed. "You come on over here, and I'll show you something better than any harbor and any St. Thomas."
"I thought you'd always dreamed of seeing the Virgin Islands," chided Mark. "You should be excited right now."
"I am sweetheart. Oh yes, I'm excited, all right."
Mark laughed. "I'd have thought you would be worn out sexually after last night."
"I'm not, though. Not for you."
"We don't have time to do anything, honey. We have to pack."
"We have time."
"Well... "
"I want to suck you, my darling," Ann murmured huskily, seductively. "I want to suck my darling husband's cock in the harbor of St. Thomas. Suck it until he cums. Wouldn't you like that, sweetheart? Wouldn't you?"
"Christ!" Mark said. His cock was standing rigid now, the head swollen with blood and his balls tingling. "You've become insatiable, you know that?"
"Would you rather I had stayed the way I was before?" Ann asked demurely.
"Not on your life!"
"Then come over here and let me suck your lovely prick, darling. We can worry about packing and those other unimportant things when I've milked your cock of every last beautiful drop of cum."
Mark fairly jumped to the bed. He sat beside his lovely emancipated young wife, bent to kiss each of her small, perfect tits and then dipped down to give her cunt a quick kiss and lick with his tongue. Then he stretched full out, and Ann reached down and took his turgid cock between the palms of her hands. She kissed his throat, his chest and nipples, his belly, lowering her head to take his prick into her mouth and love him like a wife should always love her husband - with full and complete abandonment and adoration. Christ, but he was a lucky man... the luckiest goddamned man in the whole world to have such a beautiful, loving, passionate young bride.
And as Ann took her husband's swollen prick between her lips, began to run her tongue round and round the coronal ridge, splitting the glans eye with the tip of her tongue and lapping up the first droplets of his semen, she was thinking about St. Thomas - and all the promised nights with the Garrets and the Holts in the luxury hotel where Vic had insisted they stay. Yes, and she was thinking about returning to the States, too, when hers and Mark's honeymoon was over, for Vic Garret had said that there were dozens of couples he knew who were definitely swingers, and he had promised to introduce Ann and Mark to all of them...
Then Ann Lawson, free and emancipated, a true woman of the flesh now, began to suck her husband's cock with ecstatic intensity; she forgot about all else except the wonderful hardened rod of golden male flesh which was filling her warm wet mouth and which would soon fill her throat with the seed of a true and everlasting love...
