What is it about modem society that causes so many marital failures? Social scientists-both qualified and self-appointed-offer a plethora of reasons depending on their own point of view. Each has a pet theory to advance, a panacea to offer, the one sure path to happiness!
The fact remains that most marital discord occurs when one or both partners suffers sexual maladjustment. Granted, the manifestations of that discord may be less obvious to the naked eye than one would hope. Often, the suffering person and/or his partner are unaware of the underlying cause of dissatisfaction. How many doctors' waiting rooms are filled with patients who articulate sexual dysfunction through physical illness? For the answer to that question, ask any physician or psychologist.
On the other hand, sexual dissatisfaction may manifest itself in behavior which the law regards as antisocial. Promiscuity and prostitution are two examples of conduct which society finds threatening, and yet it is often to these that partners in unhappy couples turn for satisfaction. In this gripping novel, we explore limited aspects of each in order that we may learn more about ourselves.
There is a universal fallacy that youth, physical comeliness, and economic well-being can insure a happy marriage. As our protagonists, Al and Patricia Simmons, learn, this combination insures nothing unless there is also sexual compatibility.
Given an opportunity by his employer to work in the field of expose journalism, Al Simmons soon finds himself enmeshed in the web of sexual intrigue that he seeks to report on. His young and beautiful wife, unhappy with the demands that he makes upon her body, is drawn unwittingly into the same tangled web.
Each of them, faced with the fact of the other's infidelity, reacts differently. But ultimately, they come to face each other honestly and without the layers of self-deception that most of us use to disguise our souls.
As publishers of this exceptional novel, we sincerely hope that our reward will include the knowledge that readers have gained a greater insight into one of our society's increasingly serious problems.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
"Give me another bourbon and water, sweetheart," Al Simmons, a virile and handsome young man of twenty-five called out to the scantily-clad young cocktail waitress as she hurried by his table carrying a drink-laden tray. She gave him a quick smile and a nod as she continued on past him, her swelling buttocks jiggling invitingly under the skimpy black satin pants of her uniform.
Christ, Al thought to himself as his eyes followed the girl's retreating figure, where the hell do they get these young broads? There were at least six other waitresses in the room-all equally lovely and all wearing the same uniform that was designed to cover as little of their voluptuous flesh as possible.
As he waited for his drink, Al wondered idly what his blonde wife Pat would look like in one of these uniforms. She had a better figure than any of them, tall and willowy with long lust-inciting legs and softly swelling breasts that almost drove him wild every time he saw her. That's the rub, he thought bitterly, she's been so goddamned cold and distant to me lately I don t get to see much of her body anymore! How in the hell can anyone so sexy be so fucking frigid?
His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Jim Gleason, news director of the radio station where Al worked as a fill-in disc jockey. The heavy man slid into the booth beside him and sighed.
"Jesus Christ, this place is a madhouse when all the offices let out," he complained to no one in particular. "Hi, Al. Thanks for meeting me."
This was supposed to be Al's day off and he had been puzzled when Gleason called this morning and asked him to meet in the downtown bar late in the afternoon. He had been sort of mysterious about the reason for the meeting, saying only that it concerned a possible news assignment for Al.
"What's up?" Al asked. He wanted to get this over and get home quickly. Things at home were bad enough, and Pat sure wouldn't appreciate him being away for the evening.
"Let me catch my breath," Jim replied.
The young waitress returned with Al's drink and Jim ordered one for himself, his eyes roaming appreciatively up and down the young girl's body. When she had gone, Jim turned to the man beside him.
"How long you been working for us, kid?"
"Almost a year, ever since we moved to Cleveland," Al said.
Jim Gleason seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as his darting eyes roamed around the crowded room. Al knew that it was an honor to be asked out for a drink with the news director. Jim Gleason was a legend in the news business, having started as a copy boy on a small rural newspaper and worked his way up in the business until his name and by-line were household words. No one really knew why a man who had served all over the world as a respected correspondent should suddenly give it all up and go into a non-reporting job with a radio station.
"I've been talking to Pete O'Brien about you," Jim said at last, directing his gaze to Al. "He tells me you want to get into the news department. That right?"
Al's anxious look answered the question. He had been badgering his boss, Pete O'Brien, for months to get out of the boring and inane job of playing rock music to adolescents. Radio station WHT had the best news department in the midwest-thanks largely to Jim Gleason, and Al wanted desperately for a chance to join the news staff.
"Y-Yes," he replied quickly. There was no mistaking his enthusiasm.
"I might be able to do something for you," the heavy man said, pausing for a moment as the waitress brought his drink. "That is if you're serious about it?"
"That's what I've wanted all along, Mr. Gleason. I just took the disc jockey job to get started. Reporting is what I really want to do. Christ, I'd give my eyeteeth to work with you in the newsroom!"
Jim Gleason studied the younger man for a few moments. He knew Al's background from his personnel file. Graduate of Chicago University with a communications major, a half-dozen jobs with small rural radio stations around Ohio, married with no children. Jim had talked to Al's boss about the possibility of a transfer and O'Brien had agreed that Al was wasted in his present fill-in job. The kid just might be what we need, Jim Gleason thought to himself.
"I can't really promise anything permanent," he said finally. "I need someone for a special assignment-something I think you might be able to handle. If you want to give it a try, and things work out-well, as I said I can't promise anything, but it sure wouldn't hurt your chances."
"Hell yes, I want to do it," Al replied with a grin. "Just give me the chance, and I won't let you down."
The news director was studying his companion's face again. Then, apparently satisfied, he gulped down his drink and smiled.
"OK, kid," he said heartily. "You got it! Now before you piss in your pants with excitement get up to the office and talk to Marla Smith-she's waiting for you in my office. She'll give you all the details. I'll call her and tell her you're coming."
Al got up from the table hurriedly, almost spilling his drink in his rush to leave. Oh Jesus, he thought to himself, my chance to make something of myself. Wait'll Pat hears the news! This is going to call for a real celebration! He could hardly wait to get home and tell his young wife the good news.
* * *
Marla Smith sat in Jim Gleason's large leather chair and tried to size up the sandy-haired young man sitting across the desk from her. Gleason had directed her to assign Al Simmons to the new expose on reducing parlors that the radio station was doing. Still, Marla thought that a more experienced reporter should get the assignment, and she had argued with her boss on the point. But Jim Gleason had been adamant, telling her that all of the reporters on the station staff were too well known, and that the job required a face that wouldn't be recognized.
"Just how much did Mr. Gleason tell you, Al?" she asked the eager young man.
"Nothing!" he replied uncertainly. "I-I mean, he said you'd fill me in on all the details." Marla Smith was a damned fine looking woman, he told himself, watching the sultry brunette move. But the rumors around the station had it that she belonged to Jim Gleason. Al tried to keep his eyes away from the ripely rounded breasts that jutted out provocatively at him.
"I think I should tell you at the outset that I was against you getting this assignment, Mr. Simmons." Marla's tone was impersonal but firm. "But since my opinion was overridden by Mr. Gleason... well, I'll tell you everything I know and tell you how it should be handled." Marla opened a large brown file folder that lay on the desk in front of her.
"I assume you know that WHT has been doing a series of investigatory reports... exposes, you might say... on fraudulent businesses in Cleveland." She paused while Al nodded. "Do you know anything at all about reducing parlors?"
"Not much," the young husband admitted. "I mean, I've seen the ads in the newspapers and on television... other than that, I don't know anything."
Al's body was firm and hard-muscled and he had never really given reducing-or reducing parlors-any thought.
"Most of them are strictly legitimate," Marla continued. "They serve a useful purpose for the businessman who wants to lose a few inches off his gut, or the housewife who's gotten a little flabby. Other than the fact that they're expensive as hell, there aren't many complaints."
She slid a booklet across the desk and waited for him to peruse it before continuing. Al saw that it was an advertisement for a new reducing parlor called The Body Shop. The expensive cover of the booklet showed a beautiful young couple, in tight, revealing uniforms standing in what appeared to be a luxurious gymnasium. Underneath their smiling figures were the words "For Men and Women." Al skimmed quickly through the booklet, picking out the key words and phrases. Apparently the Body Shop was a new establishment located in the heart of the downtown district. It was open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and advertised "guaranteed satisfaction for the tired businessman and the unhappy housewife." No prices were mentioned anywhere in the booklet.
"We've had a tip that this outfit offers more than the facilities they advertise. In fact, our information is that it's a variation on the old "dance school" routine-you know, they sucker people into signing up for hundreds of dollars worth of services-with contracts that are iron-clad and can't be broken."
"So they're expensive," Al interjected. "That's not illegal!"
"That's right... but prostitution is!"
"I don't understand," Al said, picking up the booklet again in disbelief. "You mean it's only a front for a whore... ,uh... " he blushed at the word, afraid that he might have offended the older woman. "... I mean a bordello?"
Marla smiled at his discomfort. Jesus Christ, she thought, this kid is going to have a great time investigating the place when he's afraid to say the word.
"You had it right the first time," she replied. "It's nothing but a front for a whorehouse!"
The young man looked down quickly at the booklet and then back at Marla Smith.
"But how the hell do they get away with it?"
"They suck them in with the reducing crap and before they know it, they're hooked. These people are unbelievably professional-if you can call it that. They know their business and they know how to play on lonely people's weaknesses. You go in to shed a few pounds and before you know it you're getting laid by one of their "technicians." Women are more vulnerable than men are and you can imagine what most of them will do when they're shown photographs of themselves and the employees of the Body Shop in compromising positions. They pay up and keep their mouths shut!"
"But why don't they go to the police?"
Marla laughed at Al Simmon's naivete.
"Some are afraid of the publicity and some... well, let's just say they get to like the treatment."
"Do you know Tommy Baldwin?" Marla asked.
Al knew that Tommy was a reporter for WHT's sister station downstate. He nodded.
"Well, Tommy came up last week on loan to us," Marla said, opening a desk drawer and withdrawing a tape cassette. She put it in a portable recorder on the desk. "He went down to the Body Shop with a miniature recorder and got this."
She pushed the "play" button on the recorder and Al immediately heard two voices conversing.
"Why don't you slip out of your things and let me get your measurements, " a female voice said. "Just hang your clothes here. " There was a rustle of clothing on the tape and the voices were suddenly lower in volume.
"Tommy had the recorder in his coat pocket," Marla said as she increased the volume until the voices were clear again.
"Gosh, you don't seem to have any weight problem, " the female voice said. "Why, you look like an athlete. "
"I think I just need a little exercise. " Al recognized the voice of Tommy Baldwin. "And I'm getting a little heavy in the middle. " The voice of the girl on the tape seemed to be getting more sexy as she took Tommy's, measurements. By the time she reached his upper thighs she was positively breathless.
"I'm sorry, sir, I'll have to move your... your thing, so I can measure your thighs. Do you mind?"
Al glanced up to see if the words had embarrassed Marla Smith. Apparently they hadn't because she continued staring at the machine intently.
"Just treat it gently, baby. It's the only one I have. "
"Oh, I will. " the girl replied. "It's the biggest one I've ever seen. I'll bet your wife really loves it. Gee, I'm getting turned on just looking at it!" There were several seconds of muffled sounds and then the girl's voice came back on again.
"Mmmmmmmmmm... look, it's getting hard... can I touch it again?"
Al lit a cigarette to cover his nervousness at hearing the lewd words. Marla was staring at him, he knew, and it was all he could do to keep his hand from going down to his aching crotch as the girl continued.
"... it's so wonderfully big... I'd like to kiss it... may I? Oh, thank you! I've never done this before and you'll probably think I'm forward but, would you mind if I... if I sucked it?
Al heard Tommy moaning deeply as the girl apparently took his cock into her mouth and began her lewd oral stimulation.
"Jesus, baby... " the undercover reporter gasped. "... that feels so good. " Al could hear the girl groaning too, and the sensitive recorder even picked up the lurid wet smacking sounds her lips made as they enclosed Baldwin's erected penis. Marla turned the volume up further to hear every erotic groan and Al could see that her tongue was circling her lips... either in nervousness or in sympathetic hunger, he didn't know which... as the obscene sounds went on. His own cock was throbbing now, pulsing rhythmically against his strained trouser leg and he felt his throat go dry.
"'I'm cumming, baby... suck it faster," Baldwin cried out on the tape, "Jesus, don't stop now... I'm going to cummmmmmmm! " Al's loins began to pound wildly, and his body grew achingly hot, both from the lurid sexual sounds that came from the tape recorder and the nearness of the beautiful dark-haired woman across the desk from him.
"Oh... ohhhh... Ohhhhhhhhhh!" Baldwin wailed as he writhed in the throes of orgasm. "Aaaahhhhhhh!"
Al Simmons felt himself rocked from head to foot by the compelling shouts of pleasure, and he was stunned to realize he was on the verge of orgasm himself just from listening to the lewd sounds being played on the tape. His thighs pressed together tightly and he wiped his sweaty palms on his trouser legs. Get hold of yourself, he told himself, for Christ's sake keep cool!
For what seemed like hours there were only the sounds of heavy breathing on the tape. Then, Al heard the girl's voice again.
"God, that was good! I could suck your prick all day. You know, if you signed up for one of our extended courses, we could do this as often as you wanted. Or if you liked you could have your choice of any of the other technicians."
Do you do this with all your customers?" Jimmy Baldwin asked.
"Oh, no!" the girl's voice hedged. "It's the first time I've ever done anything like this. You really turn me on. If you signed up for our twelve-month course we could do whatever you liked! It doesn't cost very much and you could take it off your income tax as a business expense. " The girl's voice became sexy again. "I'll just bet you'd like to fuck my pussy, wouldn't you? I have the forms right here, will you sign them? Gosh, honey, why don't you sign up right now and then fuck me real good?
Al was suddenly snapped back to reality by Marla's laugh as she shut off the recorder. His face was burning with lust and shame from almost having cum just listening to Tommy Baldwin having his cock sucked.
"Do you get the picture?" Marla asked.
"Yes," Al replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "And you say the same thing happens when women go in?"
"I'd guess they choose their customers carefully for the "full" treatment. But the answer is yes."
For the next hour he and Marla went over the material in the file folder. Tommy Baldwin's reports ended when he suspected that they were on to him, but they made a damning case against the Body Shop. There were also names of other customers from a list that Baldwin had stolen from the office of the exercise parlor. Marla suggested several ways that he might pursue the story and gave him an expense advance so that he could pose as a wealthy young business executive. It was already dark when the young disc jockey rose finally to leave the office.
"If you have any problems... and I mean any problems, call me or Jim Gleason immediately. We don't know who's behind this racket and we don't want you ending up in the morgue!"
"I'll do my best," Al told the attractive woman. His cock was still twitching from the erotic tape recording and he was anxious to get home to his lovely young wife. She just couldn't refuse him tonight!
"Good luck, kid," Marla called out to him as he left the office. "Who knows-you may win the Pulitzer Prize!"
* * *
As he drove homeward, Al tried to think how he could tell his wife Pat about the assignment without giving away any of the details. There was just no way in the world that he could explain to her that he would suddenly be thrust into a situation where he could have all the sex he wanted in the name of duty!
Al knew that this was going to be particularly hard on his young bride of only a few months. She would want to know all the details of the promotion and the first story assignment he was given. How in the hell was he going to explain all the evening hours that he would be required to spend away until the story was done. He knew that she would very likely be troubled by his erratic hours and behavior. Even now, she still grew sullen and suspicious when he didn't arrive home exactly on time. Al found her attitude hard to understand, though, since she obviously didn't want him home so that they could make love!
Although their honeymoon had been a delight for him, Al had sensed a certain passivity in her reactions even then. Oh, she didn't exactly reject him, but her whole attitude had been one of "Get it over quickly, honey, I'm tired tonight!"
At first it didn't seem to matter to him. He thought she would slowly lose all of her inhibitions and approach their physical lovemaking with as much ardor as he displayed.
Christ, he thought bitterly, I could cum then, just looking at her!
But as the months passed, Pat's passivity had turned to coldness, then to active resistance when Al had begun to demand that she give in to his more and more erotic love-play. All knew that his sense of manhood demanded the release of his more savage instincts to give an added dimension to their physical lovemaking, but Pat seemed unable to break through her old inhibitions.
Her parents were upper middle-class residents of the small Ohio town where Al had worked before coming to Cleveland. They seemed to be more interested in social-climbing than in their daughter's welfare. From the beginning they had sent her to the best schools, usually far from their home and their love. The strict and loveless atmosphere of the schools had caused Pat to remain emotionally undeveloped. Her only experience with adults had been through the impersonal teachers who gave her neither warmth or understanding.
Al's own parents, on the other hand, had been warm and loving working-class people from the south side of Chicago. They had given him and their other children a rich, full love of life. In money they were poor, Al knew, but they were rich in every other way.
If Pat had only known my folks before they died it might have made it easier, he thought. If she could only understand how good it is to be able to love another person completely-in every way-physically as well as with the heart!
A vivid image of their first meeting flashed through Iris mind as he neared home, of the way Pat had looked when he had first seen her at the small local malt-shop. She was young and lovely in a way that made her stand out stunningly among the other girls in the shop. She had just returned home from her last year at college in the east. Her glistening blonde hair hung down in soft waves around her delicately-sculpted face and her skin was the color of golden wheat. Even though she wore little makeup, her cheeks bloomed like soft pink flowers, and her carnation lips were full and sensually rounded.
He could even remember how she was dressed that first day. A light-colored blouse modestly revealed her firmly upthrust young breasts that thrust out ripely beneath the material. Her tight mini-skirt molded her tiny waist and lushly curving hips perfectly. Her legs were sleek and long with slender thighs and ankles. The first sight of her beautiful face and ravishing body among the other immature young adolescents had struck him immediately.
Miraculously, she had been attracted to the handsome young disc-jockey and it turned into a torrid, if chaste, romance. Six months later they were married against her parent's wishes, and when the job offer in Cleveland materialized, they left the small town happily.
Now, it was as if they were strangers, quarreling more and more frequently and unable to find anything to bring them together.
"Christ, I don't know what to do anymore," he ruminated, between trying to make Pat open up to him and now the pressures of a new and challenging job. It was not going to be easy for him.
He had dated many girls and women during his bachelor days and as a result knew quite a lot about the art of love, even though he was far from being a swinger. But his previous experience did him no good now, and he was at something of a loss to cope with his alluring wife's growing coldness and anxiety.
Man, I still want to fuck the hell out of that woman! I love her! But we keep getting nowhere!
To his surprise he found that his penis had come painfully erect again at the thought of making love to his voluptuous young wife. His cock pulsated massively against the restraining material of his trousers, yearning to slide back and forth within the wetly quivering softness of Pat's tight little pussy. Despite his frustration and weariness, the young husband found his mind flooded with torrid images of his slender wife playing like a pornographic movie in his head, showing her as he had never seen her before! Her nakedly gleaming body seemed to beckon like a mirage to him as he drove. He could almost see her running ahead of him on the street, naked and laughing, her sensually supple body shimmering with flaming desire, her golden hair billowing wildly behind her. Al shook his head roughly, trying to keep his concentration on the road, but a turbulent onrush of passion filled every part of his muscular broad-shouldered body. His desire-inflated penis, already aroused by the lewd tape recording he'd just heard, was throbbing madly now, screaming for release... any kind of release! A light film of sweat broke out of his forehead as he gripped his hands tightly on the steering wheel. A voice seemed to be calling to him... Pat's voice...
Come to me my darling, the voice seemed to say, come to me and sink your big hard wonderful cock into my love-starved little cunt...
" Try as he might to resist, Al was caught up in a wild inner fantasy that was taking him over like an obscene hallucination.
It's this goddamn story I'm on now, he thought, it's going to drive me nuts!
In his mind's eye he now saw his wife lying naked on their wide double bed at home, her legs splayed lewdly apart as her tapering fingers gently, lovingly fondled the pink fleshy folds nestled in the golden tangle of her pussy hair. The moistly winking entrance of her pussy loomed in his mind like a pulsing, steaming sunburst, inviting him to unbelievable pleasure. His thick muscular cock jerked hotly in response to the extraordinary vision, and his blood raced through his body as he trembled with passion.
Maybe that's just what I need to do, he thought suddenly, just get home and show Pat how much I love her, and fuck her till the crack of dawn! Jesus, that would be great! Maybe that's what we both need!
The tormenting visions vanished as his concentration centered on coming home to his waiting wife. Laughing inwardly at the prospect of a wild, abandoned screwing he reached down, his left hand massaged his impatiently throbbing cock beneath the tight cloth of his trousers.
His mind was on a hundred things at once-the new assignment, his need for sexual release, his marriage. He told himself to slow down, to concentrate on one thing at a time.
Suddenly Al felt wonderful. He could do it! He could make his lovely young wife see how much he loved her and how happy they could be once she broke through her self-imposed wall of coldness toward him. He felt exhilaration and excitement at the prospect of slipping between the cool sheets of their bed and feeling the warm, nakedly succulent form of his wife pressed tight to his hungry body. His body tingled with warm anticipation as he drove his car into the driveway of their home.
Tonight would be different, he told himself, it just has to be!
CHAPTER TWO
Pat Simmons paced anxiously back and forth in the spacious bedroom of the attractive, modem split-level home she shared with her husband. She was dressed in a light, filmy black nightgown that tantalizingly revealed her shapely body, and her long, shining blonde hair was drawn back and tied lightly with a black silk ribbon. Yet, despite her alluring appearance, she was distressed; and her cheeks were streaked with tears. Walking-quickly to a window, she drew back the curtain and gazed intently up and down the quiet street that grew darker as twilight approached.
Al, her mind screamed as she saw no cars approaching the house, where are you? Where are you?
Her husband had promised her to be home by six o'clock and now it was past eight. She had tried to calm herself earlier, telling herself over and over that Al had said the meeting with Jim Gleason was important. But by six-thirty the roast had burned, and the vegetables were cooked past eating and Pat had grown furious.
I planned a special dinner, she thought angrily as her eyes continued to search the empty street, something I thought he would really like! It's been so hard between us lately... I wanted this to be a special night!
She had bought candles and a special Indian incense, hoping that she might make up for her cold and quarrelsome behavior of late. She had bathed and dressed in her most seductive nightgown, in the hopes that she and her handsome young husband could rekindle the spark of romance that seemed to be growing dimmer with each month of their marriage. But as the minutes ticked by, her optimism and hope had faded until her face was a bitter mask of tearful resentment. She turned suddenly away from the window and walked to the phone beside the double bed. She dialed deliberately and slowly, then listened. There was a click, and a female voice answered.
"WHT Radio. Good evening."
"Hello, I'd like to speak to Al Simmons, please."
There was a short pause.
"I'm sorry," the girl said, "This is his day off."
Pat suddenly felt foolish and embarrassed at having called the station. She hung up the phone as a pang of anxiety surged through her breast. She felt lonely and unhappy as she gazed around the room, taking in the familiar modem furnishings that she and Al had chosen so painstakingly together. They both loved that particular style and had made their home a showplace of comfort and charm. But now, as her tear-blurred eyes fell over each item, she wondered what had happened to the hope and happiness they'd felt when they furnished their home. I'm trying, she cried inwardly, I'm trying so hard! Glancing at the clock she saw it was nearly 8:30: Wiping the tears from her eyes, she rose and walked quickly to the window again, hoping for some sign of her husband's return. But she saw nothing, only the quiet, ordered suburban street. What a striking difference, it seemed to her, between the placid calm of the landscaped houses and the turbulent anxiety that flooded her almost continually now.
With a deep sigh, the young blonde wife turned from the window and decided to go to the kitchen to see what she could salvage from a mined dinner. But as she passed her vanity table, her eye fell on a framed color photograph of Al that sat amidst the bottles of cologne and body lotion. It was a picture taken on their honeymoon in California, and in it Al stood dressed only in his tight swimming trunks, grinning from ear to ear. Pat loved the picture, and as her eyes drank in his sun-bronzed, powerful body a thrill of excitement ran through her. She gazed lovingly at his broad muscular shoulders, sculpted athletic chest and slim hard hips. Her handsome husband had the body of a rugged young god, a unique combination of a rough and ready laborer and a supple Greek athlete. The sight of him standing there in the bright sun with the blue Atlantic speckling behind him and his curly reddish-blond hair glistening like fire brought a well of affection and love to the worried young bride. Suddenly it seemed as if all her anxiety was fading away, and in its place she felt tremors of desire sweeping over her. She longed to hold her husband in her arms and have him comfort her, tell her everything was going to be all right. No one could calm her like Al could, nobody!
"Al," she said softly to the framed photograph, "I love you so much. Please believe me! I know it's been hard, darling, but give me time, please."
With renewed determination she banished all troubling thoughts from her mind and went downstairs to the kitchen. She took a large, thick steak out of the refrigerator, and began seasoning it for a new dinner, adding a dash of wine for flavor. Then she inspected the vegetables and potatoes, to see if there wasn't some way to perk them up despite their being overcooked. It was at that moment she heard the car pull into the driveway. And in spite of her decision to resist all anxiety, a knot of tension began to throb in the pit of her stomach.
* * *
Al deftly lowered the garage door into place and locked it. As he turned toward the house, a sense of eager anticipation ran through him as he saw the familiar sight of his handsome dwelling; his penis pulsed warmly, still throbbing with the desire to make love to the ravishing, young woman he knew waited for him inside. He reminded himself once again to be as gentle and understanding as possible with her, then headed for the front door. Opening it, he called inside.
"I'm home, honey!"
"I'm in the kitchen, Al," his wife replied.
He strode buoyantly through the hallway and into the kitchen, where his wife stood cooking in her sheer black peignoir. The sight took the aroused young husband's breath away; she was truly a vision of sensual loveliness, especially the way the light played teasingly through the folds of her flimsy gown to reveal the wildly sensual promise of her perfect young body. His rapidly hardening cock gave an excited lurch in response, and he quickly dropped his briefcase and sports jacket, moved over to Pat and wrapped his strong arms affectionately around her waist.
"You're a good-lookin' woman, you know that, babe?" he said warmly.
Pat was inwardly very pleased at the compliment, and she blushed shyly.
'Thank you. darling," she whispered, and turned to him, circling her slim arms around him as well. "Oh I've missed you so much, and it's only been a few hours."
They moved easily into a warm long kiss, and as they did a jolt of electricity flashed through Al's previously aroused body. Drawing his willing wife tighter, he splurged his tongue hungrily into the soft warm cavern of her mouth, probing the tip into every secret recess behind her even teeth.
At first Pat was swept away by her husband's ardent kiss, but as his tongue grew more and more demanding in her mouth, she began to tremble slightly with fear. Sensing this involuntary reaction, she tried to ignore it, but the wilder Al's kiss, the stronger the anxiety surged through her until she finally pulled away to collect her thoughts.
"I... I ruined the dinner," she stammered, "and now I'm going to ruin the steak," as she turned away from her husband.
'The hell with that," Al replied, his voice husky with desire. "We can eat later... I've got something else on my mind first."
Pat smiled weakly, trying to hide the terror that was clutching at her chest and throat.
"I've... I've just got to finish this... then... then... " But even as she spoke, she remembered exactly why the first dinner had ended up in the garbage pail. "Why were you so late?" she suddenly queried her eager young husband in an angry voice. "You said you'd be home at six... "
"Gosh, honey, I forgot to tell," Al announced proudly. "You happen to be looking at the newest member of the WHT news department-complete with my first assignment!"
The young man was gratified by the look of surprise and happiness that came to Pat's lovely face. She threw her arms around him and squealed.
"Oh, Al, that's great. I'm so happy for you. Tell me all about it... how much raise did you get? And what kind of assignment did they give you? Please... tell me everything?"
"Whoa," Al pleaded. "I completely forgot to ask about the raise... and I'm afraid I can't tell you about the story assignment... " he paused, hoping that she would not press on about what he was going to work on. "... it's very hush-hush! An expose kind of thing. In fact I've been sworn to secrecy."
"You didn't ask about a raise?" Pat asked incredulously. "You know how badly we need the money... Daddy can't go on sending us money forever!" Her voice took on a harsher tone. "And why can't you tell me about the assignment? Don't I have a right to know?"
Her words were like a slap across his smiling face, and Al suddenly felt tired and angry.
"Stop it, Pat!" he snapped. "I'll get the raise thing straightened out tomorrow... I know how you hate to take money from your parents-I've always been against it-you know that! You'll just have to take my word for it that I can't tell you anything about my first assignment. I don't know, maybe they're testing me or something."
Pat stood there for a few moments, livid with anger. Then, without another word she ran out of the kitchen. Seconds later, Al heard the bedroom door slam shut with a loud bang. Quickly he followed her.
Pat lay across the bed sobbing loudly as Al sat down next to her.
"I'm sorry, honey," he said soothingly. "I thought you'd be happy with my news. You act as if it were bad news instead of the chance I've... we've... always wanted."
As he talked, Al patted his hands soothingly on the succulent half-moons of his wife's firmly rounded buttocks and squeezed seductively, trying to calm her and yet enjoying the texture of her ripe flesh beneath the silk garment she wore. Her sobbing increased and as his strong hands kneaded her ripe body she tensed, scarcely breathing.
"I really don't want to discuss it," she said finally. "If you don't trust me to keep your secrets... well, I don't want to talk about it anymore!"
"Honey, please," Al begged his unyielding wife. "I don't want to argue either. Can't we let it alone until I have a chance to ask Mr. Gleason if it's okay if I tell you about it?"
Without warning, Pat suddenly twisted around and sat up, throwing her long arms around her husband's body.
"Oh, will you? Promise?" she cried delightedly, wiping the salty tears on her husband's shirt. "And will you ask for the raise: Feel her warm breasts pressing voluptuously into his chest, Al would have promised her anything in the world. He was almost overcome with desire from her nearness. His hands moved swiftly to circle her and pressed her soft body tight to his chest.
"Oh, darling," she said suddenly, "I got a letter from Mother and Dad today. Let me get it."
Before Al realized what was happening, his honey-blonde bride had twisted away and gone into the hallway to get the letter. A sense of rage took hold of him at her obvious retreat from his rapidly growing ardor, but he tried to cool himself, remembering his decision to be as gentle as possible with her.
"Dad sent me a check for my birthday," she said excitedly, as she returned to the bedroom. "Mother made me promise to spend it on myself... she wants me to get a fur coat."
Al's anger was suddenly back. It was an old story with them-sending her money for things that he wanted to buy her but couldn't afford on his meager radio-station salary. Almost everything in the house had been purchased with checks from her father.
"Why can't they just wait until I can afford one for you myself," he snapped bitterly. "Your mother just wants to remind you of what a bum you married!"
"That's not true," Pat replied in a heated voice. "They just want us to have nice things!"
"Shit!"
There was never any question about how Pat's parents felt about Al. From the very first they had tried to break up their romance, and her father had even tried to get Al fired from the small local radio station. Luckily, the station manager was an independent old man who only laughed at the request. They would have preferred Pat to marry a professional-a doctor or lawyer, perhaps-someone with real possibilities in the world. Not someone like himself, from the wrong side of the tracks and with hardly any prospects of life. When Pat had told them that she would elope with Al if they didn't give their approval, her parents had finally given in. But nothing had really changed. To them, he was an outsider and the sooner their daughter realized it the better off she would be. They would have preferred a divorce to having Al Simmons for a son-in-law.
"Face it, Pat," her young husband said. 'They don't like me, and they never will. I'm just a guy from the wrong side of the tracks to them. I think if your mother had her way she'd have kept you as a spinster, locked up in that posh mausoleum they call home!"
Pat was shocked to hear Al talk this way. "Maybe they haven't been perfect, but they're not... they're not cruel... like you're implying!" she retorted.
"Oh babe," Al said, trying to calm his distraught bride, "I know they're just doing what they think is right... but you've got to admit it hasn't been easy."
Pat reflected for a moment on what he was saying. She remembered her mother's words... "remember Pat, Al is from another world, a world that is very different from ours... not as cultured, not as structured. I can't prevent your marrying him, but I warn you not to let him drag you down in any way... men of this type can be rather... rough with a woman. Really, I'm rather surprised he's marrying you. Usually there's only one thing they want. Anyway, remember you're a lady, and a lady never lowers herself to a man's level! Remember that, " The troubled young wife's brow knotted with worry as the bitter words rang through her brain. Seeing her upset, Al moved in to embrace her once again.
"Aw, don't let it get you down, Pat," he said warmly. "It's been rough, but we'll work it out." He took her in his arms and held her tight. "As long as we've got each other we'll be okay! Oh, honey, you're just what I need, all I need." Passionate tremors once again raced through him, and he began to cover Pat's face with hot kisses. But as he did, he felt her begin to resist again.
"Al... " she whispered edgily, "Al... I... "
"I tell you what," her eager mate continued in a low seductive voice, "why don't you light a couple of candles, and then slip into our nice warm bed... "
More than anything in the world, Pat wanted to make love with her husband, and yet her body shook involuntarily with fear at his suggestion.
"Al," she said, trying to mask her anxiety. "Why don't you let me cook dinner first?"
"Later... later," he whispered in her ear, as he licked her swan-like neck with his tongue. "This can't wait... Oh babe, I've been hot for you all afternoon... " Spontaneously, he kissed her shoulder so hard that it raised a little red welt. Pat drew back, shocked at the savage intensity of his kiss.
"Don't... don't do that," she cried, shaking with alarm. "I don't like it when you do that." The young disc jockey felt his temper begin to boil. He had been patient and deliberate, and yet it seemed no matter what he did, the minute he began to grow passionate she closed off like a slammed door.
"Pat, for God's sake what's wrong?" he asked. "I want to make love to you, isn't that obvious? You're treating me like I was poison."
"No, Al, it's... it's just... it's just... I've been cooking... let me take a shower... and then... "
"A shower? What the hell do you need a shower for?" he demanded.
"You just don't want me to fuck you, do you?"
"Don't use that kind of language with me!" she screamed suddenly.
"I'll use any kind of goddamn language I want! Understand?" Al found himself shouting back at her. "And what's more I'm sick of this crap! You're treating me like dirt, just like your mother used to do!"
"That's not true!" she shouted back, her face twisting into an ugly, angry grimace, "It is!" he shouted back. "That dame's a bitch!"
"Al!"
"And when you start acting like this, you're just as bad!"
"I won't listen to this! I WON'T" she cried petulantly, stamping her foot. She turned away from him and quickly fled, leaving Al alone and frustrated on the bed. Furious, because his plan for a gentle seduction had blown up in his face, Al lit a cigarette and tried to ease his seething mind.
This is getting ridiculous, he thought angrily, I can't lay a hand on my own wife! Christ, what am I supposed to do now? Damn it! Damn it!" He could hear the shower being turned on, but he knew his wife was only evading him; she was obviously freshly bathed when he came home. The sense of freezing hostility that had become so familiar between them lately once again filled the house. There were no sounds but the ticking of the ticking clock and the water running in the shower. Al's fists clenched tightly as anger rose brutally within his mind. He felt he was being denied what was rightly due him as a husband; he was weary from his constant attempts to break through his wife's frigid behavior. His patience was at the breaking point, and the frustration he had so laboriously concealed time and time again rushed through him now with violent intensity. He drew deeply on his cigarette, trying to fight his rampant anger, but it was of no avail. His temples pounded like jackhammers, both from long pent-up desire and from the boiling fury that overwhelmed him.
I'm not going to take any more of this, he raged. I want what's rightly mine as a man! And I want it tonight!
Rising from the bed, he began to undress slowly as the sound of the shower cascaded rhythmically in the bathroom. He removed his trousers and laid them over the back of Pat's vanity chair, then peeled off his tapered shirt, T-shirt and shorts and placed them carefully there also. With a wicked smile, he went down to the living room and got a bottle of whiskey. Quickly he swallowed two warm, stinging shots of the liquor and shivered as he stood naked on the thick rug.
Ah, that's good, he thought, as the potent liquid made his body tingle and throb hotly. His brain reeled slightly, but it felt good. Christ, I won't be made a fool of by my own wife and her goddamn family! I WON'T!"
After a couple more shots, he replaced the bottle and went back up to the bedroom. Another burst of rage flushed his face and neck and he felt almost savage now from the whiskey he had consumed, as he listened to the shower behind the closed bathroom door.
She's in there right now, that prudish little bitch, he thought. She's completely naked, soaping up those soft, white tits of hers and that nice tight little cunt, washing away everything 'dirty", just like her mother taught her! And then what? Then she'll come out here and give me a goddamn peck on the cheek and go to sleep or make dinner or some fuckin thing like that while I go nuts like a frustrated dope! Jesus, it's the most beautiful, natural act in the world, and she acts like I wanta rape her!
Al's brain suddenly began to visualize through the haze of his anger, the supple white form of his wife as she stood naked beneath the needle-point shower spray: her high-set berry-nippled breasts robed with a mantle of soapsuds, her softly dimpled ass-cheeks streaming with the hot water, her long blonde hair damp from steam and flowing like soft corn silk over her golden shoulders. He could clearly visualize her naturally golden pubic curls, thin and gossamer wispy, framing the tender softness of her coral-pink cuntal lips; her long slender legs tapering down from the rich, creamy thighs into shapely calves and slender ankles... glistening with water... slippery with soap... perfumed... warm... and wet...
The raging young husband felt a rushing wave of desire consume his loins, igniting a hot fire that burned agonizingly in his testicles and filled his huge pulsating cock with blood, making it as rigid as a thick, corrugated tree trunk. His heart began to pound violently in his chest-both from his intensely aroused state, and from his anger at his beautiful wife's frigid attitude. His penis was pulsating with lust now, and his eyes stared fixedly at the closed bathroom door. Yes, he knew she was in there... naked, as he was naked... new and lushly desirable... and he was out here with a hard-on, like some great diamond-head drill. But what good was it going to do him? When she came out and took a look at his eagerly jerking cock, she would react, he knew, as she always did with discomfort, fear at his maledom's great size, shame at its naked-and to her, obscene-exposure to her gaze. And she would draw away in open refusal... as she has done so many times before!
But not tonight, he thought crazily, Goddamnit, not tonight!
The lurid thought grew in Al's mind like an explosive bomb! Tonight he was going to fuck her! Yes, fuck her like a wife ought to be fucked and blast the nonsense right out other! No more goddamned kowtowing, no more frustrations, no more static, sterile sex!
His legs worked independent of his lust-filled mind and carried him forward across his bedroom with his blood-engorged cock jutting out in front of him ready for battle. He threw open the bathroom door, dimly heard the knob bounce sharply off the tile wall inside and took two giant steps forward. His hand reached out and swept the shower curtain aside, and he leered in at his nakedly beautiful wife standing beneath the rushing fall of water.
She was exactly as he had pictured her to be in the bedroom, with her firmly upthrust breasts lathered all white, and her wetly matted pubic hair glistening with the hot water. Al's lust-bloated penis jerked spasmodically at the sight of her warm sensuality in the flesh, and his balls arched with the need for the release of his churning load of cum.
Pat's mouth opened in surprise as she turned at the sound of the curtain being yanked apart. Involuntarily, she dropped the bar of soap she had been using and made a timid attempt to hide her naked loins from her husband's view.
"Al," she blurted out, "what are you doing in here?"
Her young husband's long hard cock leaped again as the surging mixture of desire and rage coursed through him with unrelenting strength.
"What the hell do you think I'm doing in here," he snapped at her, as he stared obscenely at her sculpted loveliness. Fie lowered one hand and encircled his lust-hardened flesh shaft, lifting it up as if presenting her with a gift. His entire being now was in a haze of liquor and torrential passion.
To Pat it seemed as if her husband had gone berserk, the way he stared at her like she was a... a whore! The terrifying sight of his massively rigid penis bulging out like the evil head of some giant eel made her gasp, drawing back against the wall of the shower stall.
"Al... " she cried faintly... "Al, what's wrong... what are you doing?"
The sex-crazed husband felt a tremendous surge of brutal power take control of him. He was the lord and master now, and his lips parted in a wide, salacious smile of barbarous triumph. All thoughts of gentle seduction were crushed to bits now; all he wanted was satisfaction for his volcanic need!
"I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before, bitch! Right here right now! With your sweet little ass pounding off the cold tile of the goddamn bathroom floor! Understand?"
His foul, repellent words, and their unmistakable meaning, caused his frightened wife to cry out in abject terror. Never had she heard such revolting things! And from her own husband who supposedly loved her! She couldn't believe it, but it was true-overwhelmingly, frighteningly true! She pressed against the wall as if trying to blend her body with it, trying somehow to escape this leering stranger who stood fondling his monstrous penis and testicles like a filthy pervert before her eyes; but there was no escape... to Pat it was as if all her mother's dire warnings were coming true in a sudden, horrible rush! She was paralyzed with fear!
Al reached up and twisted the shower knobs, shutting off the hammering spray, his eyes not once leaving the nakedly exposed perfection of Pat's femininity. His painfully throbbing cock and balls felt as if they were weighted down with increasing amounts of white hot lead, and the swollen glands of his cock shaft ached and tingled with maddening intensity.
"I'm going to put this big prick of mine so far up in your hot little belly that you'll scream and beg for me to pump you full of cum!" he said feverishly.
"Oh God, nooooo!" Pat squealed in anguish, her eyes reflecting the terror she felt. "Al, oh please Al don't... "
"The hell I won't!" he roared, still manipulating his great bloated cock, drawing the foreskin back with tantalizing slowness, reveling in the command he had over his young wife at the moment. "I've had it with you and your fucked-up fears about sex! I want a woman, not some sperm receptacle that lies on a bed praying for it all to be over! I want a woman, a real woman, Pat, and by Christ I'm going to make one out of you tonight!"
With those words, Al reached and grabbed her by the arms, pulling her soft warmness to him, his hands exploring her voluptuous, shower-wet flesh. His hot mouth sought hers out, found it, closed on it, and his tongue flashed searingly into the warm cavern of her mouth. She fought against him, trying to break his brutally pinning grip, but she was too weak against his powerful masculinity. She felt his heatedly turgid penis grind like a red-hot branding iron against her smooth white belly.
No! No! her mind shrieked in disbelief, this can't be happening to me! Oh please! Noooooo!
Al pulled her roughly out of the shower stall onto the cold tile floor. She tried to rake his bare back with her nails, but he had her pinned in such a way that she was completely defenseless. He used the weight of his muscular body to force her down onto the floor. Within moments their writhing bodies were stretched out prone, and Al trailed hot moist kisses down along the warm, wetly glistening flesh of her neck and chest. His mouth found the rising glove of one perfectly nippled breast, and taking the tender bud between his teeth, he licked and sucked it into involuntary hardness. His hand slipped between their bodies, and his fingers slid through the soft, damply curling pubic hair and forced its way between her tightly closed thighs. Then, with the palm of his hand resting flatly against the warm, fluted lips of her cuntal cleft, he began to slide his hand up and down with insinuating strokes in her little narrow slit. His fingers teased the tight, elastic opening of her tender vaginal mouth, working luridly to bring spontaneous lubrication from the walls, as she twisted wetly in his grip. His outstretched index finger found the tiny knob of her clitoris, and he exulted in the gasp of shock that rendered itself from her throat at the contact of his probe on the feverishly quivering miniature phallus. He fingered the nerve ending maddeningly, at the same time rubbing the slippery head of his hotly throbbing cock along the smoothness of her belly, back and forth, back and forth. Torrid heat swirled in great rising waves from his scrotum, and he knew he was too aroused to be able to control his orgasm much longer! He wanted to fuck her now! Now!
The passion-crazed young husband raised up, holding his wife's arms to her sides, and slipped one knee between her tightly clenched legs. She resisted bitterly his attempts to spread wide her thighs.
"You bitch! Spread those legs so I can see that pussy of yours! Like a real woman, Pat, so I can see your cunt in the light!"
There was something in his voice, in his lust-filmed eyes, which made her obey his harsh command immediately. A tremor of fear wound its way rapidly along her spine, for she had an instinctive feeling that he would hurt her if she didn't give in! Slowly, her face flushing in embarrassment and bright, she parted her legs.
Al grinned obscenely down at her cunt, so richly pink and moist, the lips like velvet fleece with downy pubic hair, the erect little clitoris quivering like a red rosebud. He was so wildly excited by the sight that he couldn't wait any longer! He released one of her arms and grabbed his impatiently pulsating cock as he lowered himself over the supine form of his fearfully trembling wife. With an almost animal-like growl he placed the bloated, purplish head at the entrance of her wetly quivering vagina, teasing it along the rich, fleshy valley... poised and read...
Suddenly, without warning, he shoved his powerful hips forward with a vicious cry of triumph and drove his great hot length of hardened cockflesh into her tight young pussy, revealing as the warm wet feel of her soft inner walls expanded around his blood-gorged penis.
"Aaaaaaaggggghhhhhh!" Pat screamed in pain as his brutal entrance, her hips jerking up and legs rising off the cold floor in spontaneous protest to her husband's bestial intrusion.
Her cry of protest was shut off as Al's hot, eager lips found her mouth as his long hard rod of flesh was filling her cunt.
The muscular, young husband began to plunge his thick flesh pole in and out of her vagina now with rough ramming strokes, pulling his heatedly pulsating penis shaft almost all the way out before burying it completely again in the depths of her cringing young cunt. Each time he flexed forward, the hairy sac of his testicles slapped resoundingly against her twitching, upturned buttocks. She ground her hips down against the tile in a futile attempt to escape, and her legs jerked wide on either side of his convulsing body.
"Noooooooooo!" she screamed into his mouth, "You're hurting me... uuuuuuuunnnnnnngggggggghhh! Noooo!"
But he was mindless with lust now, consumed with the need for powerful release with the woman who had for months been growing colder and colder to his masculine needs. He fucked up into her relentlessly, plunging his thick rampaging hardness up into the moistly defenseless passage between her widespread legs. His sperm-laden balls grew hotter and hotter with each pounding stroke.
Lying helpless beneath his sex-crazed body, her eyes filled with tears of pain and humiliation. She prayed desperately for this horrible rape by her own husband to end. As she did, her mother's words of warning resounded in her brain with the impact of a hurricane... Men of his type tend to be animals! I warn you not to let him defile you in any way! I warn you! I warn you!... I warn you! The older woman's words echoed in rhythm with each vicious thrust Al made up into her. To the ravaged young wife, her mother's warnings had come hideously true, impaled as she was on the bathroom floor by her husband's bloated, burning instrument of torture! She yearned for escape from her horrible punishment, yearned for her husband-who had been transformed into a madman-to have his orgasm and end the brutal assault.
In order to achieve this, she began to jerk and twist her hips in a circular motion, opening and closing her cuntal passage with a muscular action that she had not previously thought possible.
"That's it." Al yelped in delight. "Oh yes, that's it!" Fuck me baby! Fuck me! Fuccckkk Meeeeee!"
Horror stricken, she tried to shut her ears to the obscene words, all the while striving harder to obey his lewd command, churning her hips wildly, madly now, squeezing his massively pulsing penis with her vaginal muscles harder and harder.
Al felt a surge of elation roar through him as Pat increased her activity; it was as if his attempt to break through her icy demeanor with a brutal screwing was actually going to work! In response to her unexpected passion, his body began to convulse wildly as his orgasm approached.
"Oooooooh... " he groaned excitedly, "I'm going to cum... oh baby fuck me... I'm going to cuuuummmmm! Ooooooohhhhh!"
And suddenly he was there! Pat felt the first jet of white pungent sperm burst from his wildly jerking shaft of heated flesh.
"Aaaaaaaaannnnnngggggg!" Her husband shouted, arching his body as it shuddered in the throes of a climax of earthquake proportions; he pumped stream after stream of boiling hot cum into her brutalized pussy-flesh as he moaned incoherently. "Uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhgggggg!... OOOOOOooooooohhhhhhhhhh... "
Pat gritted her teeth as her belly filled with his unwanted cum. Her naked young body was rigid and riddled with pain for she shared none of her husband's passionate sense of release. To her, this was an ugly, vile act she had to endure! Whatever desire she'd had earlier in the evening, whatever desperate hope she had harbored to be the fulfilled woman her husband wanted, was not swept away by the excruciating pain and merciless torture she had endured.
He continued to spurt his seemingly endless flood of hot male seed up into her cringing vagina, convinced that his wife equally enjoyed the raging, gushing orgasm he felt. After what seemed like hours, he finally collapsed with a long sigh of satisfaction, pressing his weight against her soft body on the cold floor. His still twitching penis began to deflate and Finally slipped from the moist, cum-drenched hole of his wife's pussy. Sighing again, he rolled off of her and felt his body tingle as it came in contact with the cold tiles. Turning to his wife, hoping to share the warmth and fullness he felt, he saw that her eyes were closed and lips drawn tight in unmistakable bitterness. At once, his triumphant happiness turned to resentment.
"You didn't like it did you?... " he snarled, daring her to look at him, But she could only turn her head away as tears filled her eyes and began to roll down her cheeks. How could she tell him she hated it! That she was revolted to the very depths of her being by his grotesque animalistic behaviour! She could only lay inert, her naked young body and mind awash with revulsion and agony; tremors of pain still throbbed in her vagina from his cruel attack.
"Oh God... " she moaned in a tiny, frightened voice, "what am I going to do? What am I going to do?"
CHAPTER THREE
Al rose early the next morning. In the dim half-light of the bedroom he could see that the other side of the large bed was empty and he suddenly remembered that Pat had taken a blanket last night and had gone to the guest room. With a groan he tried to sit, his brain reeling from the memories of the brutal rape of his wife in the shower.
"Oh, God," he said aloud as the awful truth came back to him. He had almost certainly destroyed their marriage with his rapacious attack on Pat's tender young body. He had proven everything her mother had said about him. He was no better than an animal!
Slowly, he made his way to the bathroom and turned on the light. The face that stared back at him from the mirror was a stranger's. Dark shadows lined his eyes and the stubble of his beard made him look like a different person that the loving young husband who had come home so happy the evening before. How could he ever make it up to her?
He shaved and showered quickly, afraid that the noise would wake her and that there would be another argument. He knew he couldn't face that now. His only chance would be to get away for a few days and let the memories of his cruel and obscene actions dim. An idea suddenly came to him: Suppose he told Pat that he had to go out of town on the assignment for a few days? That would leave him free to complete the story without having to face her and her demands for an explanation of his absence.
Still moving quietly, he dressed and packed a suitcase with enough clothing for several days. Fortunately, his clothes were expensive enough to allow him to pass as a successful businessman. He would check into a downtown hotel and pose as a sales executive who spent a good deal of time in Cleveland. In a few days he should have enough material for the story and he could return home. In the meantime, he could write Pat a long letter explaining everything and beg her forgiveness.
He sat at the desk in the bedroom and composed a note to his wife:
---
Sweetheart: I've got to go out of town for
a few days on the new assignment. I'll call
you tonight. I can't tell you how sorry I
am about last night. Believe me, it won't
happen again. As soon as I get back we can
sit down and work everything out. I love you
desperately and I need you, honey.
All my love-Al
---
Al propped the note up on the kitchen counter where his wife would be sure to see it and then went out of the house toward the garage.
His briefcase with the explosive file folder marked "Body Shop" lay on the kitchen chair where he had put it last night.
* * *
The muffled sound of a car door closing awoke Pat with a start. Still exhausted from the previous night's awful confrontation, the shapely young wife moved slowly out of the bed. She groaned wearily as she became conscious of the dull, aching sensations that swept over her body, particularly in her vagina. A wave of bitterness welled up in her stomach as she remembered what had happened in the bathroom.
She went to the window painfully, just in time to see Al's car drive away from the house. Oh, Al, she moaned to herself, how could you change so much?
How could he do that to me? Her thoughts were confused as she slipped into a housecoat and went toward the kitchen. What's come over him? I know we've been having problems, but there was no excuse for the horrible way he treated me last night! None!
In a few minutes she was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee and a cigarette in her hand. To the bewildered young wife it seemed as if Al had suddenly gone mad. Up until last night he had been a model husband. Of course they had their share of fights and disagreements, just as every young married couple did, and it was undeniable that they were both troubled by her increasing dislike of sex, but she couldn't understand why he had left the house yesterday a docile person and returned home a raging beast.
Why won't he tell me about the assignment they gave him yesterday, she thought bitterly. What could he possibly be doing that would require such secrecy? Then, a new thought came to her and she remembered her mother saying how shameful it was the way young girls threw themselves at radio personalities. Not that Al was famous like that, of course! But, she had read articles about how record companies had bribed disc-jockeys by offering them drugs and favors from call-girls to play their songs. Oh, my God, she gasped, could he be seeing another woman? At that moment her eyes fell on the note on the kitchen counter and she rose from the chair quickly and read it with mounting apprehension. It must be true! He was going to see another woman! The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach was growing and for a moment she thought she'd be sick.
Once again she thought that all of the things her mother had warned her about were true, horribly true! She felt dismal and bleak, a troubled girl alone in a hostile world. She yearned for the protection of her childhood-the years she had spent shielded from pain and discomfort. Now, it was different-everything was so complicated by Al's disgusting yearning for sex. Tears filled her eyes for what seemed like the thousandth time in the past few days.
Her initial impulse was to pack her bags and escape to the sanctity of her parent's home. But could she face them and the humiliation of scurrying back like a wounded animal-confessing to her smug mother that she had been right all along about Al? No, that would be no real solution. She had to work this out by herself. The sudden knowledge that she was all alone heightened her feeling of desperation.
The unhappy young woman walked quickly back to the kitchen table and fell onto one of the" chairs, the note from Al clenched tightly in her hand. For the first time she noticed that he had forgotten his briefcase this morning. A new thought flashed through tortured brain. Perhaps it contained some clue to why he was acting so horribly toward her. Or, it might contain something even worse-the proof that he had been seeing another woman!
She reached for the briefcase with a shaking hand. The slick brochure of the Body Shop caught her eye at once and she pulled it from the case and scanned it quickly. It seemed harmless enough, although she was surprised that Al would have such a thing. As her hands began to pull the file folder from the case, she did not hear the kitchen door open.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Al stood by the door, his face livid with anger. Without another word her quickly crossed the room and grabbed the briefcase and the Body Shop booklet from her hands.
"A-Al, what is it?" she cried in alarm at the look on her husband's face. "What is all this stuff?"
"Damnit, I told you my assignment was confidential," he replied harshly. "Why do you have to spy on me?"
"But I wasn't spying," she defended herself. "I was only... only... "
Al stuffed the booklet back into the briefcase and closed it. He stared at his confused young wife for a moment before speaking.
"We'll talk about this when I get home in a few days," he said, trying to make his voice more calm.
Pat felt the tears well up in her eyes and she began crying uncontrollably. She did not notice the sound of the kitchen door slamming as her husband left their home for the second time that morning.
* * *
Al over-tipped the smiling bellhop and waited for him to leave the room. Already he hated the sterile hotel room that would be his home for the next few days.
"Thank you very much, sir," the bellhop said. "If there's anything you need-anything at all-just let me know. I'm Frankie."
It wasn't hard to guess what he meant by "anything." Al dismissed him with a wave of the hand. He was anxious to get to work on the assignment and if things were as Marla Smith said, he'd soon have all the fucking he could ask for.
Marla's suggestion was that he pose as a regional sales manager for a large corporation. He was to go to the Body Shop and pretend that he was in Cleveland for a few days and wanted a place to relax and exercise. If they took the bait, he was to get as much evidence of their operations as possible-in particular, he should try to get them to blackmail him. Then the Cleveland Police Department and radio station WHT would lower the boom on the whole illegal operation.
Al settled himself comfortably on the sofa and reached for the phone. In a few minutes he was speaking to the receptionist at the Body Shop, making an appointment for himself for later that afternoon. The girl sounded breathless and sexy much as the girl on the tape recording had sounded. She assured him that they would spare no trouble to see that he was happy with their services.
He replaced the phone on the cradle and closed his eyes. This is going to be a real pleasure for me, he told himself, a chance to get all the pussy I want plus the biggest story of the year!
In a few minutes he was sleeping peacefully, his mind filled with dream-images of beautiful nude women smiling seductively as they caressed his own nude, eager body.
* * *
By the end of the morning, Pat had cleaned the house from top to bottom. For her, this work was therapeutic and allowed her to forget all of her problems by devoting all of her energy to physical labor. But then it was over and she had nothing else to divert her. Her mind returned again to Al's brutal behavior last night and then his anger this morning when he caught her going through his briefcase.
There was just no rational explanation for his actions. Why should he become so upset at her seeing the booklet from the Body Shop? It must be because he has something sinister to hide. She remembered the smiling face of the beautiful woman on the cover of the booklet. Suddenly, she felt old and tired. She wondered if she were as beautiful as the young girl model. She felt her firm round hips and imagined that she had gained weight.
Oh God. she thought irrationally, soon I'm going to be an old woman like the other wives in the neighborhood. She could see herself wrinkled and flabby like the middle-aged woman next door, her breasts sagging and her buttocks obscenely full.
It isn't fair, she told herself. Why can't we stay young and beautiful forever? Most men retained their looks for years long after their wives had faded. It just wasn't fair!
Her mind raced with confused and jumbled thoughts. The booklet had said that the Body Shop was for men and women. Maybe Al was using something innocent like the Body Shop for a rendezvous with some other young woman! For all she knew he might have been cheating on her for months. Her mouth suddenly became a tight thin line of rage and bitterness. She knew that she had discovered a whole different side to her young husband. His grotesque rape of her in the bathroom had been so completely alien to him that she wondered how much she actually knew about Al.
The more she thought about the Body Shop and how angry he had been this morning, the more she was convinced that he was lying about this being an assignment. I'll bet if I went there I could catch them in the act, she thought viciously.
Her tormented mind was suddenly possessed with the ideas of finding him in another woman's arms. It would serve him right, she told herself.
With cold determination she went to the telephone and asked the information operator for the number of the Body Shop and then dialed it. After a few rings, the receptionist answered.
"Good morning. The Body Shop. May I help you?"
* * *
It was late afternoon when Pat parked the car in the large lot next to the Body Shop. She sat there for a few minutes trying to get up enough courage to go through with it. It suddenly seemed the wrong thing to do and she gripped the steering wheel nervously, fighting back the anxieties.
Get a hold of yourself, she said silently. Even if you're wrong about Al using this place for a rendezvous, the worst that can happen is that you 'II get some much needed exercise!
With determination, she opened the door of her car and walked towards the front entrance. It was a modern building, two-storied, with a facade of newly-cleaned brick. A large sign hung over the door, announcing in bold script that this was indeed the Body Shop. The tips of Pat's fingers grew cold as she faced the building, trying to make her leaden legs obey her mind's command to go outside. Finally, after taking a deep breath, she swung open the glass entrance door and walked in.
The still-hesitant young wife found herself in a large reception room, luxuriously furnished with large soft chairs and couches. Everything in the expensively carpeted room was. designed to put people at ease-from the soft indirect lighting to the tasteful paintings on the walls. A lovely young receptionist sat behind a dark mahogany desk, smiling at Pat.
"Can I help you, miss?" she asked smoothly.
"Em Patricia Simmons-Mrs. Simmons," Pat replied. "I made an appointment by-telephone this morning."
The young receptionist glanced down at a pad on the desk and then looked up smiling.
"Of course," she beamed. "Welcome to the Body Shop. I'm sure you'll find our services very satisfactory." She pulled several forms from a desk drawer and pushed them across to Pat. "Would you mind filling in these forms, please? It's only a formality."
Pat Simmons looked at the forms with a puzzled expression. She hadn't counted on this. The idea of filling in forms somehow made her uneasy again.
"But you seem to require so much personal information," she said.
The young receptionist smiled again.
"I'm afraid it's a rule, Mrs. Simmons. We have to have this information so that we can treat you properly. You can understand that, can't you?"
The young wife didn't want to make a scene at this point. What's the difference, she thought dully, no one's life is a secret anymore, with all the government agencies knowing everything about you. She took the forms and the ball-point pen and sat down across from the girl.
She completed the forms dutifully, pausing only briefly at the questions about Al's employment and the several references required. Her signature was needed at the bottom of the last page-a page of fine print that Pat could not understand.
The receptionist saw her pause over the small type.
"Just sign at the bottom, Mrs. Simmons," the receptionist urged her. "No one ever really understands all that lawyer language."
The girl pulled the forms toward her before Pat had completed her signature.
"Only one more thing and we're all done," she said brightly. "The initial visit is twenty-five dollars."
Pat must have looked surprised because' the girl added quickly: "That includes a complete evaluation by our specially trained technicians. You're very lucky really. Mr. Roberts is free this hour and is going to attend to you personally. He's our best technician."
Mr. Roberts?" Pat asked in surprise. "I-I mean, won't it be a woman?"
"Gosh, Mrs. Simmons, we don't think of our technicians as male or female. They're kind of... you know... sexless!
Pat was still apprehensive about being evaluated by a male but she knew it was too late to stop now. She wrote a check for the money and gave it to the girl.
The receptionist stapled the check to the completed forms and pressed a buzzer on the desk. In just a few minutes, the inside door opened and Pat was staring at one of the handsomest men she had ever seen in her life.
"Mrs. Simmons," the girl said, "this is our Mr. Roberts."
Mr. Roberts was about the same age as Pat-certainly not more than twenty-two or threee. He had a slender, lithe body that was accentuated by the tight pants and shirt he wore. His golden hair was worn long and framed his ruggedly handsome features. His lips were full and sensual and wore a grin. Despite his slender body, Mr. Roberts had muscular arms and tight wiry muscles covering his upper torso. Pat's eyes ran down his body and she gasped silently at the large mound between his legs.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mrs... uh... Mrs...?"
"Simmons," Pat prompted, "Pat Simmons." An electric shock ran through her arm as Mr. Roberts clasped her fingers in his hand. Instead of dropping it after the warm handshake, Mr. Roberts slid his hand up her arm and smoothly guided her through the door from which he had just emerged. Neither of them said a word as they glided silently down a long hallway.
Finally, they reached a doorway and Mr. Roberts led Pat Simmons into a small room. It was as luxurious as the reception room but it contained no furniture, only a large mat-covered examining table and a screen.
"But I thought we were going to the gymnasium?" Pat asked.
"Not on the First visit, Mrs. Simmons," Mr. Roberts replied. "We have to determine your needs and physical condition first. May I call you Patricia, Mrs. Simmons? It seems so formal the other way." He smiled at her seductively as she nodded. "And you must call me Ken!"
They stood near the examining table while Ken Roberts eyed her lush figure appreciatively.
"Let me put you in the picture, Patricia," he said finally. "In order to determine what your body needs, I shall have to examine you. Then we can prescribe a program for you. Any questions so far?"
Standing here in this room with the handsome young man was having a strange effect on Pat Simmons. Her heart was pounding wildly as his strong hand caressed her arm.
"I guess not," she answered him.
"Good. Then we can begin." Ken drew her toward the screen. "Please undress."
Despite her natural shyness, Pat felt strangely at ease with Ken Roberts. But he was asking her to do something that frightened her.
"What?" she asked, startled by his request.
"I assure you, Patricia, it's necessary," he told her in a quiet voice. "Please don't be uptight or embarrassed. Just think of this as a medical examination and me as your doctor, ok?"
"Are you a doctor?" she asked, suspecting that the handsome young was man was not. No man other than her husband had ever seen her nude and the idea of disrobing in front of this stranger made her extremely uneasy.
"No, I'm not, Patricia," he said. "But my extensive training has been somewhat along the same lines. Actually, I'm a certified body technician."
Before Pat could inquire further, Ken Roberts came closer to her and put both of his hands on her shoulders. The nervous young wife was acutely aware of his nearness. She could see every muscle in his chest ripple as he massaged her shoulders. There was a certain thrilling excitement at being so close to such a man and she sensed the animal vitality coursing through him.
He stared at her intently, his blue eyes seeming to penetrate her innermost thoughts. His gaze was almost hypnotic and she could see that he liked what he saw.
"You're a beautiful woman, Patricia. It'll be a pleasure to have you as a customer," he said gently.
Pat was somewhat flustered by his unexpected compliment, and she blushed; yet she was also delighted to have such a good-looking man shower her with such attention.
"Thank you... " she said modestly.
"Shall we begin?" he asked again, his left eyebrow slightly arched.
"Yes... I guess so," she answered in an uncertain voice.
"Then please take your clothes off," he said in an offhand manner. Pat's eyes widened and a slight chill ran through her body. "I mean behind that screen," the muscular youth said, with a warm smile. "And don't be afraid of being in the nude with me. After all this is my business. You have nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. Now you undress. I have to slip out for a moment to get something, but I'll be right back. Okay?"
"Okay," Pat replied, smiling for the first time.
"Good... you seem more relaxed already. See you in a minute," and with that, Ken slipped out the door.
Pat rose from the couch and went behind the screen. Undressing slowly, she wondered what the examination would be like. She already liked very much what she had seen of the studio, and she felt comfortable with Ken, despite only having just met him. It was an exciting adventure for the young wife, to be Suddenly thrust into a new, thrilling world. She relished being away from the house and her cleaning chores. Humming happily, she slipped off her dress and hung it carefully on a hanger behind the screen. Then, with a slight trace of nervousness, she undid the hooks of her bra, freeing her ripe, firmly upthrust breasts. The two shimmering, fleshy orbs tingled with excitement as they were exposed to the air. Then, Pat slowly pulled down her tight bikini panties. As the silky garment slid slowly down her sleek thighs and legs, Pat realized again that she would be totally naked in front of a perfect stranger. Yet Ken's calming words came back to her, and she tried to relax.
After all, this is just a business to him, she thought, carefully folding her undergarments. It's foolish for me to be so shy about it.
Presently she heard the door open.
"I'm back," Ken said, "Are you finished?"
"Yes... yes," she answered timidly.
"Then come on out. Don't be afraid."
Hesitantly Pat moved out from behind the screen, like a little girl, trying to hide her private parts with her hands as she did.
Ken glanced up at her, seemingly in a casual way, and took in her sensually voluptuous body.
What a build, he thought hungrily, and those tits of hers are really something! Man, would I like to suck those! Mmmmmmm!
"I got some champagne," he said, holding up two full glasses of bubbly liquid. "Compliments of the Body Shop."
"Thank you," Pat said, lingering near the screen.
"Well, come closer," he said quietly. "Have some."
He held a glass out to her, and she moved to him and took it.
"You have a perfectly lovely body, Patricia."
"Thank you again," she said, blushing, but pleased at the compliment. She sipped slowly on the champagne, and as it coursed down her throat, she felt her body begin to relax. "Mmmmmm. This is good."
"Yes, I like it myself," he replied, draining his glass and setting it aside. "When you're ready, just lie down on the couch, on your stomach."
"All right," Pat said. She took another long sip, savoring the light, fruity flavor, then put the glass down and lay on the silky couch. When her body touched the sleek upholstery, a shiver of sensual pleasure rippled through her. She had never felt such luxurious delight as she let herself sink into the soft padding. The combination of the champagne and the smooth table worked like magic on the tense housewife. She closed her eyes and seemed to be lying on a cloud, floating in space.
"This feels so nice," she said in a lazy voice. "Good... ,good," Ken said.
The young technician let his eyes rove lustily over Pat's slim tapered back; the sight of her glistening pinkish-white buttocks made his long thick cock lurch hotly against the tight white material of his trousers. It wasn't often that his customers were so succulent and desirable, and he licked his lips with relish at the thought of what was to come. He poured himself more champagne and took a deep swallow, feeling the liquid work through his body like a warm mellow aphrodisiac. Then, placing the glass on the floor, he turned his attention to the table where the beautiful young woman lay.
"It will be hard to examine you as tense as you seem to be," he said gently. "Let me work out some of the tension."
Without waiting for a reply he began to massage her shoulders and neck with gentle, skillful strokes. As he worked, Pat could almost immediately feel the nervousness draining out of her.
"Gosh, that feels good," she sighed, trying to relax her body. The champagne had done it's job and she felt warm and wonderful lying here being caressed by a stranger. There was no false modesty at displaying her naked body, and she had forgotten the real reason for her visit to the Body Shop. The sensuous pleasant sensations continued as Ken's hands kneaded her back. A slightly wicked smile played across her lips as she realized that Ken was giving her a message through his fingertips-and the message was that he found her extremely attractive.
Ken Roberts let his hands play lightly on the smooth, upturned ass-cheeks. He gripped the pliant flesh like two soft melons, working the tight muscles expertly so that they seemed to melt under his nimble fingers. Inwardly he was pleased with himself. Most of the women who came to the Body Shop were beasts with sagging tits and overweight bodies-women who had to pay for any extra-curricular sex they got. But this beautiful young woman was different. He could hardly control the lust rising within him as he examined her lovely flesh with his hands.
When he had first been recruited for this job he didn't like the idea at all. He was tired of fucking old hags for pay. But he had come to get a real thrill from his mastery over these sex-starved customers. And there were times, like today, when a real beauty came in for treatment. And he made sure that he got his cut of the money from the expensive contracts and the blackmail.
He lived for erotic excitement, and the Body Shop provided him with plenty of that. Particularly when his customers were so ravishing and desirable as the shy, demure young woman whose nakedly voluptuous body was now his to use as he pleased.
"Turn over now, Pat," he cooed into her ear.
"Mnnnnnnnnnnnn... " she sighed, as she languidly rolled over onto her back.
"Have a little more champagne... the best is yet to come," he said.
Pat picked up her glass and took a deep swallow of the effervescent wine; as it coursed down her throat, she felt completely at ease. Her mind seemed to be gliding in paradise, and her body tingled with warmth and vibrancy. She gave him the glass and lay back, sinking into the silky cushioned comfort of the table.
Ken let his sure fingers play gently over her face, as she closed her eyes and seemed to drift into a dreamy state. Deftly he massaged her temples, her eyelids, and her cheeks, then slowly, he let his nimble hands slide down to the rosy, succulent mounds of her firm young breasts. Her skin was white as marble, save for her brownish aureoles and rosy nipples. His own body was alive with an obscene excitement as he straddled her with his knees on either side of her hips.
Pat, in her dreamy state, felt his fingers glide like feathers over her breasts; her skin tingled and her nipples quivered and hardened, the rubbery tips grew taut with pleasure as he rolled and kneaded them with his hands, charging her body with sensuality and warmth.
"Ooooooohhhhhh... " she found herself moaning involuntarily. Ken's expertise was potent, working skillfully against Pat's tension and innate resistances.
"Feels good, doesn't it," he whispered. "Feels sooo nice. You deserve to feel nice, Patricia... you deserve everything... "
I do, Pat thought languidly, I do... I haven't felt this wonderful in months... if Al can do it, then so can I!
Ken was caressing her hips and thighs, and then slowly, as his hands continued to massage her, he leaned down and nuzzled his face lightly into the soft, velvety planes of her stomach.
Pat instantly tightened as he did this, and her eyes flew open in terror.
"Nooo... no " she murmured.
"That's all right, Patricia... don't worry... this is just part of the treatment... you don't mind... do you? You feel so good.
I've never had such a wonderful body in my studio before... please relax... relax... "
His soft, soothing voice instantly calmed the anxious housewife. She was too pleasantly relaxed now to resist, and his voice and eyes seemed to hypnotize her, completely removing all doubts.
"Just lay back," he whispered, "and everything will be wonderful... just drift and dream, Patricia... float away... "
He began to flick his pink tongue lightly over her naked skin, sending shivers of delight through her. Unconsciously, she began to move her body, undulating slightly under Ken's wetly darting tongue. Pat was enveloped in the pleasurable sensations that washed over her; she had never experienced such thrills in her life, and she was too drowsy and delighted to resist. She submitted completely to his nimble tongue and hands, lost in a dreamy world like some ecstatic Alice in Wonderland... so lost that she wasn't even aware of his mouth gradually moving lower and lower...
After all, she thought dimly, for all I know Al has been seeing other women... anything is possible and this feels so nice... soooooo nice!
Why shouldn't I have some pleasure?
Ken moved his mouth further down the stomach and lewdly explored the regions just above the soft downy pubic mound between her legs. He looked up expectantly at her-not sure if she would protest. When she moaned low in her throat, the young man grinned widely and licked his lips. Slowly, his tongue trailed over the soft, silky tendrils of her pussy hair and slid closer and closer to her soft, little pink slit that lay nestled in the succulent flesh up between her trembling thighs.
"Oooooooooohhhhhh... " Pat mewled, her body quivering with unsuppressed excitement as the handsome youth moved closer to her suddenly aching vaginal furrow. She made no resistance at all to his moves, for her entire being was radiant with thrilling warmth. To her it was completely unreal, a delightful fantasy that closed around her like a mist. She had never felt so happy in her entire life!
Suddenly Ken darted his long tongue into the wet, tender flesh of her cunt, and her entire nakedly aroused young body quivered from the electric shock of his tongue-fucking. He's actually licking my vagina. Why, I haven't even let Al do that!
Yet rather than being horrified or ashamed, she was ecstatic; for the wetly searing touch of his tongue on her wildly throbbing pussy was immensely pleasurable. She was enraptured by Ken's brilliant seduction, overcome with excitement, unable and unwilling to resist.
The handsome masseur ran his tongue up and down the moistly trembling cuntal slit, probing with his moist pink tip deeper and deeper up into the secret recesses of her hot cavern. He licked at the warmly perfumed outer lips, nibbling playfully at the silken strands lining them. Then he found the hardened tip of her tingling taut clitoris and began to probe and suck on it, pulling it artfully, sending excruciating ripples of forbidden delight through Pat's sensually glowing body.
"Ooooooohhhhhh... " she groaned, overcome with a wild sense of excitement that she had never felt before; she began to twist her body and undulate her hips, unconsciously encouraging him further.
That's it, Ken thought happily, she's hooked! Christ, these uptight housewives arc easy as rolling off a log! There shouldn't be any trouble from here on in.
Ken's prediction proved to be more than true, for as Pat felt the hot, wet pleasure of his masterful tonguing, she opened her legs wider to allow him easier entry, and pushed her ripely flared hips upwards so as to meet his hungry, probing instrument. Gone were all thoughts of shame and guilt; gone were any vestiges of the idea that she, a married woman, had no right to do such a thing! In her wildly exultant state, her legs now thrashing and quivering with delight, she felt as if she was getting full revenge for her husband's suspected philandering. She was consumed with a wicked sense of pleasure and erotic abandon, and now she gave herself completely to it.
Lewdly, she writhed and twisted beneath his madly fucking tongue until she thought she would faint from the ecstatic joy that pulsated so hotly through her loins. Her wide-open cunt was now frantically grinding up into Ken's eager face, crushing his mouth cruelly against her slippery wetness, flaring open to devour his pleasure-giving tongue.
Ken, throbbing with passion and perspiring slightly licked greedily, savoring Laura's increased delight. He was exultant that his seduction was successful beyond his wildest expectation. His massively erect penis pulsed with sensual pleasure, straining to be free of the tight confines of his trousers. But Ken knew that he must wait until later for his own release. She would return soon and then, he knew, anything goes! For the present, there was the enjoyable task of stimulating the wantonly kicking, writhing, groaning female beneath him, his prize for the day!
The shamelessly aroused young wife gasped and cried out with pleasure' as Ken stiffened his tongue and plunged it deeply up into her hot, madly throbbing cunt, rotating it far up inside her. Her hips were oscillating in time to the wetly probing tongue, and little eddies of forbidden thrills raced through her, threatening to suck her consciousness into a swirling maelstrom of sexual delirium.
"Oh God!" she cried out with delight as Ken's tongue nibbled and darted in and out, occasionally flicking obscenely over the clitoris, then slipping back into the widening, eager cuntal sheath, "OoooooohhhhhhGgggggoo odddd!"
The young wife was lost now, completely lost! She didn't care about anything now but increasing the vast, wonderful sense of ecstasy she felt.
Ken began fucking his tongue deeper up into the naked housewife's heatedly clasping young pussy, sucking and probing with consummate skill as Pat began to moan steadily. Her ripe voluptuous body vibrated madly as incredible surges of excitement began to ripple through her like ocean waves, waves that were whipped to a frenzy by Ken's long wet tongue whirling round in the velvet-like interior of her vagina. She could actually hear wet, sluicing sounds made by his tongue and it thrilled her even more! Pin wheels of color exploded behind her closed eyes! A new lightness was rising in her, like sparkling bubbles of champagne racing in her blood! With a sudden shock of exaltation, she realized she was going to have an orgasm! The first orgasm of her entire life! She could scarcely believe the volcanic rushes of ecstasy that consumed her! She came closer, closer, ever closer to that magic moment so long denied her.
Then... she was there!
"AaaaaaggggghHhhh! " she cried from the very depths of her being, her body overwhelmed with flashes of ecstasy that shorted out her nervous system in a glorious shower of sparks. "I'm... I'm... cu... cu... cumming! I'm cuuummmmiinnngggg!!"
She heaved and thrashed like a raving madwoman under the hot, thick tongue fucking so furiously up into her wetly pulsing vaginal canal. Hungry flames of pure wantonness engulfed her as her inflated cuntal walls dilated and shuddered, issuing thick streams of warm orgasmic juices that cascaded over her lover's wetly glistening face. She continued to moan and flail her long blonde hair, utterly delighted, until finally, exhausted and deeply satiated for the first time in her life, she sank back on the table, luxuriating in the golden glow that suffused her throughout.
Ken stood next to her, triumphant in the knowledge that she was completely under his spell, and took another sip of champagne.
"I'm sorry," he lied. "I... I didn't mean to do that. But you are so beautiful. Forgive me, Patricia," he said, playing the role of innocent young man. "I've never done anything like that before. So... please... please say you'll forgive me."
"Oh yes," she replied weakly, all sense of morality and conscience swept away in her radiant state.
"Then, you'll come back again, won't you? I hope you will... it could be so nice... "
"Yes... " she said softly, still floating on a cloud of delight, "Yes... I'll come back."
"Oh, thank you, Patricia," he said as his hand came out and stroked her naked thigh. "I hope you'll forgive me if we don't go on today... I'm just too upset by everything."
"Whatever you say," she answered drowsily. "Whatever you want me to do."
CHAPTER FOUR
Marsha Bennett relaxed into the soft comfort of the padded leather chair behind her desk and smiled as she glanced through the Body Shop's weekly accounts. It had been a record period, and soon she would have enough capital to expand operations to more cities. Not bad for an ex-farm girl from Arkansas, she told herself smugly.
The raven-haired woman caught a glimpse of herself in the hanging wall-mirror on the other side of the room and she was pleased with her image. Although she was just over thirty, Marsha was usually mistaken for much younger. She was tall for a woman-nearly five-foot-ten but she carried her voluptuous body with all the grace of a dancer. Every part of her lovely body was perfectly proportioned, from her large swelling melon-like breasts down to her firm rounded hips that flowed perfectly into her long curvaceous legs. Her face was arrestingly attractive, with high, almost oriental cheekbones and glowing skin, a perfect background for her flashing dark doe-like eyes. Her long straight nose gave a proud look to her face, and her bright crimson lips, unbelievably full and exotic, were an instant invitation to passionate kisses.
Marsha had opened the Body Shop with her savings from earlier years as a New York call-girl, and business was booming. Even without the extra money from the blackmail, the Body Shop would have been a huge success. When a wealthy customer balked at paying the large amounts, Marsha would take over the client herself-or if it was a woman, she would have Ken Roberts assigned. Their record was perfect at persuading reluctant customers to pay up.
It had only been recently when she suspected that one of her customers was a plant from the police or a newspaper that she became even a little concerned. The man had simply never turned up at the Body Shop again, and Marsha breathed a sigh of relief at her earlier doubts.
A discreet tap at the door made her look up from the pages scrawled with figures.
"Come in," she called out.
The shapely receptionist came into the office and walked over to Marsha's desk. She held a folder in her hands.
"Today's suckers!" she said simply.
"I've told you not to use that word," Marsha said angrily, "not even in private. They're customers or clients!"
If the girl had not been such a good receptionist, Marsha would have fired her long ago. But there was no denying that she had the looks and the manners to put people at ease. Most men were so busy trying to get a look at her lovely body that they didn't realize they were signing long-term contracts when they filled in the initial forms. And women were so used to signing things that they almost never questioned one more set of forms.
"I'm sorry, Miss Bennett," the girl smirked, obviously not at all sorry. "I think you'd better have a look at two of these... ," she paused while she withdrew two sets of forms from the folder and laid them on the desk. "There was a Mrs. Simmons in earlier today-she got the treatment from Ken-you know the type, bored young housewife." She paused again and pointed to the form. "Check the stuff on her husband."
Marsha quickly scanned the page. Mrs. Patricia Simmons had listed her husband's name as Albert and his occupation as radio announcer for a local station. There seemed to be nothing particularly interesting about the information and she looked up quizzically.
"I don't get it," she said.
"You will in a minute," the girl said, handing her another set of forms. "It just so happens that a Mr. Albert Simmons is sitting in the reception room at the moment," she paused dramatically. "... and would you believe it? His wife is named Patricia! But get this, although every thing else matches-ages-the whole bit, he gives his occupation as a sales manager and his address as Toledo."
The girl stood there looking proud of herself while Marsha read the second set of forms. There was no question about it, she thought to herself bitterly, he's a goddamned reporter! No self-respecting policeman would be so stupid as to let his wife come in and blow the thing. He had to be a reporter!
"You say he's outside now?" Marsha asked.
"I thought I'd better see you before I assigned him to a technician."
"Good thinking," Marsha said with a sadistic grin as she made her plans for Albert Simmons. "Why don't you ask Mr. Simmons to step in and have a chat with me! Oh, Ann, that was a good piece of work. You'll get something extra this week."
When the girl had left to get Al Simmons, Marsha leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. What an incredible piece of luck-both good and bad-to have both Albert Simmons and his wife come in on the same day, she mused. I'll have to get a report from Ken Roberts quickly and find out if the man's wife was vulnerable.
"Miss Bennett?"
Marsha opened her eyes to see the ruggedly handsome Al Simmons standing in the doorway. God, what a gorgeous creature he is, the owner of the Body Shop thought to herself. It was going to be a pleasure to handle this case herself!
"Please come in, Mr. Simmons," she said in a low throaty voice. "I'm Marsha Bennett."
"Happy to meet you," Al replied as he glided across the plush carpet and took the outstretched hand. The sight of this voluptuous creature had stunned him completely, and he was at a loss for words. She exuded a throbbing, magnetic vibration that was overwhelming. Al had expected nothing like this, and he was caught off guard.
"Please sit down," the beautiful woman said, gesturing toward a comfortable chair that was placed on the other side of her desk.
Al settled into the chair and allowed his eyes to roam over her body.
She cowered herself, like liquid mercury, into the chair. She was dressed in an expensively tailored blouse of green silk. Her wonderfully endowed breasts, pushed forward by the form-fitting bodice, looked like two ripe melons ready for picking. Al could scarcely believe their size and succulent shape, and he found himself wondering if she hadn't used some artful padding to increase her natural endowments. A matching mini-skirt clung enticingly to her fabulously rounded, well-fleshed hips. Sheer black stockings and spike-heeled patent-leather shoes completed the costume, except for glittering ear rings and a necklace with stones that looked like diamonds. She positioned herself in the chair with seductive grace, and when she crossed her legs, with a rustle of black nylon, the young announcer swore he could see almost to the shadowy "vee" up between her firm-fleshed thighs.
To his amazement, despite what Marla Smith had told him about this place, he found himself immediately bewitched by the owner's voluptuous body and strange, compelling beauty. Keep hold of yourself, man, he commanded inwardly, Remember, this broad is nothing but a cheap racketeer, no matter how sexy she is!
The stern warnings from his mind, however, did nothing to diminish the rapidly growing excitement her presence created in him. He could feel his skin growing warmer, and his genitals began pulsing softly, like a muted jungle drum.
"I wanted to meet you," Marsha Bennett said melodiously, opening her small handbag and withdrawing a gold cigarette case. "I like to meet all of our new clients-especially the good-looking ones!"
She smiled slightly, looking directly at him as she withdrew a cigarette from the case. Al fumbled through his pocket to find a match, feeling a little like an awkward boy, and moved forward to light it. Marsha leaned in to catch the flame, and as she did, their eyes held steadily. It seemed to Al as if he were looking into the very depths of all sexuality. It was all he could do to pull himself back to his chair.
"Why, thank you," he replied, trying to sound casual and self-assured-something that he decidedly did not feel at the moment. "You're very attractive yourself. Are you really the owner of the Body Shop?"
"I confess, Mr. Simmons... may I call you by your first name?"
"Please call me Al," the young man answered her. "Everyone else does."' "I started to say, Al," she went on smoothly. "I confess to owning the Body Shop."
There was a long silence in the room while the voluptuous Marsha waited for Al's next question. She stared at him curiously, trying to decide what would be the best way to handle him. He seemed too naive and nervous to be an experienced reporter. Perhaps the best way would be just to confront him with the fact that she knew who he was.
"You do have more questions, don't you?" she said suddenly.
Al was acutely aware that he was being scrutinized and it only made the aching of the rigid hardness of his cock more sensitive. "I don't understand, Miss Bennett?"
"I know why you're here, Al," she said in a soft voice. "I'm surprised at you, pretending to be a sales manager! Are you ashamed of your affiliation with WHT?"
Stunned, the budding young reporter felt as if the roof had fallen in on him. How could she have known? He sensed his new career being ruined on his first assignment. How in the hell could she have known?"
Marsha really enjoyed the look of distress that flashed across Al Simmon's suddenly blanched face. He looked as if he were going to cry.
"There's no need to deny it, you know." Her voice was supercilious now and she continued to attack. "We know all about you and why you're here. Did you think you could fool me?"
Al tried to protest but she only waved his words aside.
"Why don't we lay our cards on the table," she asked him. "You came here to do a story-probably an expose-on the Body Shop, didn't you?"
She read her answer in his embarrassed face.
Marsha leaned back in her chair, her keen mind rapidly sizing up the handsome young man across the desk from her. Everything about him told her that she could handle him. It would be a pleasure, really. She decided against telling him how she had found out who he was. The knowledge about his wife would be kept secret for the time being-to be used later if needed.
Suddenly, she rose gracefully, almost lazily from the chair and came around the desk to pull up another chair and sit down beside him.
Al nearly gasped, as he saw that beneath her sheer blouse that she was wearing nothing. He could clearly see two berry-like little nipples that stood out like quivering buds against her jutting breasts. His immediate impulse was to reach out and fondle the enormous, fleshy globes. With a great effort, he restrained himself, content to even be so close to such beauty.
"Can't we be friends?" she said in a sexy voice.
Al could scarcely believe the size of Marsha Bennett's ripe breasts. They jutted out at him invitingly, straining against the material until he thought they would burst their restraints. She was the sexiest, most desirable woman he'd ever seen, and his body was responding to her sleek and daring eroticism like a throbbing machine, growing hotter by the second. His long hard penis was as stiff as he could ever remember it being, and it ached for release.
At the same time, he was almost physically sick from the knowledge that he had been uncovered as a reporter after only a few minutes in the Body Shop. He was disgraced and would be lucky if they even let him keep his job as a fill-in announcer. How in the hell was he going to get out of this mess? Better just to play it cool and see if you can salvage something out of the situation, he told himself.
"What is it you want here, Al?"
The desperate young reporter decided that he might as well come clean now that his cover was blown.
"All right, Miss Bennett," he began unevenly. "You're right, I do work for WHT. We've had information that your 'reducing parlor' is a front for something else, and that you're pressuring your clients with sex to sign up for long-term contracts at exorbitant prices."
Marsha answered him with a laugh. Her hand was playing with his coat sleeve as she spoke.
"Why, that's ridiculous! We have a very legitimate business here. I don't know where you could have gotten such information, although I suppose some of our clients might tell you that for spite if they propositioned one of our technicians and were turned down."
Al smiled slightly, his confidence coming back now. He remembered the obscene words on the tape recording he had listened to in Jim Gleanson's office.
"Are you telling me that nothing goes on in the Body Shop except your helping people to reduce and keep fit?"
"Exactly," Marsha replied confidentially. "If you don't believe me why don't you let me take you on a tour of the gymnasium and the other facilities? You cam. see for yourself that everything is strictly 'em the up and up."
Al raised one eyebrow, and looked intently at the stunning woman perched on the chair next to him.
"Oh, I don't doubt that you could give me a tour that would convince me that everything was just fine-at the moment! You've probably already warned everyone to be on their best behavior while I'm in the building!"
"I have done nothing of the sort," she replied innocently. "Look. We exist to provide a service for our clients, a warm and elegant setting where they can relax and forget their troubles for awhile while they get back in shape. Now if there's anything wrong with that, I'd like to know what it is!"
"Oh, there's nothing wrong with that... provided your 'services' don't include extras... like a little sexual relief!"
The beautiful woman's eyes grew wide with surprise, and then she suddenly threw back her head and laughed uproariously.
"Oh, Mr. Simmons! How could you think that goes on in our establishment?
"I don't think up anything," he replied, overlooking her laughter. "That's not my job. I'm interested only in the facts... proven facts."
"Oh?" she remarked, her face growing somewhat taut. "And do you have proof?"
"I might. I just might," he replied.
"Then, you've been deceived," Marsha declared fiercely. "You've been fed a pack of lies. Is this proof firsthand? Have you been here yourself?
"No, I haven't," he said, after a short pause, and he could see that she relaxed somewhat at his answer.
"Without firsthand information, Mr. Simmons, your story isn't anything more than libel; and believe me, we're ready to sue your station for every penny we can get if you broadcast anything libelous. There's a lot of money at stake here. We've worked hard to make the Body Shop a place of comfort and convenience, serving the real needs of the community."
"Do you expect me to believe that?" A! interjected.
"I don't expect you to believe anything except what you see with your own eyes. Anything else is pure speculation... and, frankly, all you're doing is speculating!"
The young announcer knew that what she was saying was somewhat true. No matter how many tapes or statements he had, he knew he couldn't expect the station to release a story of this magnitude without seeing for himself. As though she could feel him wavering, Marsha continued to use her powers of persuasion.
"I'm here as the owner of the Body Shop," she went on, "to convince you that what we do is strictly on the up and up, I don't know what you've heard from others, but I do know that there are a lot of lonely unhappy people in the world who will do anything to get their names in the papers,"
"That's certainly true," Mark agreed noncommittally.
"Mr. Simmons, you strike me as being a very intelligent man, as well as an attractive one," the voluptuous woman continued, smiling a little. "Won't you let me show' you one of our establishments so you can see for yourself? Then, if you still want to see more... without me, you're perfectly free to do so. All I want is a fair chance to prove ourselves to you."
Despite his conviction that the business was a swindle, Al felt his absolute certainty was shaken a little. The combination of Marsha's cool logic with her spectacular face and body was slowly wearing down his resistance. Perhaps he had been wrong, perhaps the tape he had heard had come about simply because the Body Shop had one over-zealous employee who would do anything to make a commission sale. Perhaps, the voluptuous woman seated across from him was telling the truth. "Are you married?" she asked unexpectedly, already knowing the answer.
The way the woman was staring so knowledgeable made him strangely uncomfortable. It was as though she had sensed the difficulties he and Pat were having, and knew every detail of his trouble-filled private life. A light film of perspiration broke out on his forehead, and his fingers grew cold. He resented her question, but his brain reeled with confusion.
"Yes... I'm married... " he replied somewhat hesitantly, "Why do you ask?"
"Nothing personal," she replied, sensing his embarrassment. "But we find a lot of our customers are married men who want to relax from their business tensions, so that they can go home to their wives feeling refreshed and eager to give them a little attention. That's all part of our service is to relax our client's tension."
Al had to admit that there was something to be said for her point of view. Many times he arrived home from work so tense and frustrated from pressures at the station that he was short-tempered and edgy with Pat.
"That makes sense," he replied agreeably. "If that's all you're doing, you'll have no trouble from me."
"Good," she said warmly. "Then we have nothing to fear. And in that case, Al, perhaps we can be friends instead of enemies. Could we?" she cocked her head to one side and smiled.
"Perhaps," he answered cautiously. "But only after I see for myself what's going on."
Al's initial distrust and contempt was melting away almost without his being aware of it, and he was surprised to realize that he and Marsha were speaking warmly, as though they were old acquaintances. She not only was a sexy looking female, but smart as hell and good company besides.
"Would you like a little sample?"
"Sample?" Al's body stiffened suspiciously. "What do you mean?"
"I mean why don't you let me massage those shoulders for you? I guarantee you it'll make the rest of your day much more enjoyable. Then we'll go inspect the gymnasium."
The young husband's breath quickened as she spoke, and his already aroused penis began to throb madly against his thigh. Christ, what's wrong with me, he thought angrily. A gorgeous broad wants to massage my shoulders, and I act like a teenage virginal boy being propositioned by a whore. She's right! I do need to relax!
"Sure, why not?" he finally answered, forcing back his distrust.
Marsha rose from her chair and moved closer to him.
"Lean back in your chair," she said soothingly, positioning herself behind him, "and just close your eyes and relax. Let me do the work."
As he followed her instructions, Al could sense her powerful female presence behind him. The flowery fragrance of her perfume drifted into his nostrils and worked like an aphrodisiac on his brain. With long, tapering fingers, the raven-haired woman slowly massaged his neck muscles. Her gentle rubbing motions brought an immediate release of tension, as the tightness melted away.
"Oooooohhh," he sighed, "that's good "I'm glad." Her voice was soft and relaxing, as her hands moved down to knead his shoulders with tender, somewhat provocative strokes. "You are tense, too tense... " she noted aloud as though she were a physician.
"I guess I am," he said softly, beginning to feel dreamy and only semi-conscious under the voluptuous woman's soothing touch. "But I feel a lot better now."
"I'm glad to hear it," she replied easily, without losing the easy rhythm of the massage. Despite the fact that she wasn't certain he believed her, she was beginning to enjoy her task. Al's muscles were enticingly hard beneath his white shirt, and she found herself wondering what he looked like naked. In fact, she was inwardly delighted that the target of her charms was such a desirable specimen of masculinity.
I think I'm going to like this a lot, she thought with a sudden growth of excitement as she moved her hands over his upper back. Quite a lot!
Teasingly, she let her fingers glide upwards until they tangled themselves in the dark, curly hair that set off his handsome face so beautifully. Glancing over his shoulder, she could see the mound of his genitals, thick, virile, and hard inside his trousers. He's all man, she thought appraisingly, and the more he proved a challenge to her wiles, the more she wanted him, and looked forward to fucking him. Al's excitedly pulsating cock gave a heated lurch as she slid her hands smoothly over his shoulders and down onto his chest. Good, she mused lewdly. Good... he's set up now and nearly ready for the kill.
Her fingers flicked lightly between the buttons of his shirt, touching his naked skin. As Al felt her warm, gentle caress on his rippling flesh, he gave a slight start. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps the massage was becoming more blatantly sensual... maybe she was leading up to a wild screwing. At his lurid thought, a wave of guilt shivered through him; the face of his vulnerable young wife flashed in his mind's eye like a harsh warning.
"I... I feel fine now," he stammered, trying to end the massage before he lost control of himself. Her skillful hands were affecting him more strongly than he wanted to admit.
"I hate to stop," Marsha replied, a calculated catch in her voice. "You have such nice shoulders... so muscular... I'll bet you're really something else without clothes on."
Overriding his objections, she gently pulled his head back so that his neck rested directly between her own nearly naked, rapidly heaving breasts. A luxuriant wave of warm excitement surged through his body at the touch of her softly seductive flesh against his temples. Desperately he fought down the impulse to reach up and grab her. He was almost overcome by the extraordinary pleasure that washed over him in ever-intensifying waves. His massively enlarged cock was red hot, and his balls were swollen and throbbing with mounting desire.
"I'm truly enjoying this," the statuesque woman cooed, as she slowly massaged his temples. "In fact... it's even getting me kind of excited... even though we're trained not to let that happen in this business. It sometimes happens." She shrugged, then continued, "But... you're such an attractive man. Oh, forgive me for saying it, it's really very unprofessional of me... but if you weren't married... and so suspicious of my motives... I'd be tempted to make a play for you!"
"Yes?" Mark replied, his voice shaking a little, despite his determination to control his mounting excitement.
"You bet," Marsha purred softly, stroking his face and neck. "It would be so nice to have your beautiful naked body pressed against mine. But I really mustn't say such things," she reproved herself with affected sincerity. "You'll only think our establishment is as corrupt as you supposed."
Al's brain seethed with stormy thoughts. Part of him violently distrusted her motives and resisted her lewd suggestions. But another side of him, a darker, more primitive aspect, screamed at him to throw aside reason and restraint and plunge his swollen, lust-enlarged cock deeply up into her hot little pussy. I want to fuck her, he realized in a flash of self-awareness. I want to fuck the hell out of her!!!
"Of course," Marsha continued, her voice low and velvety, "there's nothing wrong with a little fling after work someday, if you're in the mood. I mean... no one has to know about it... after all, we're two consenting adults... "
The young reporter was half mad with desire, and her tantalizing suggestion was all the urging he needed. With a deep, savage groan he rose suddenly, flung aside the desk chair, and grabbed the tall, ravishing woman in his arms, passionately crushing her lush warm body with his own. They kissed harshly, cruelly, and she opened her mouth fully, delighted that at last he had made his move. She darted her wet tongue deeply into his mouth, driving him wild with desire. Fiercely, he forced her tongue back with his own, so that his hungry oral spear could explore the interior of her moist warmness.
Quickly, Marsha dropped her hand down and roved between Al's legs, where she found the massive outlines of his thick, stiff cock. Skillfully, she began to massage it, so that the long shaft and thick, bulbous head strained furiously against the fabric of his trousers.
Groaning deeply, Al slipped his own hand up inside the sheer blouse she wore, resting it on one of her full rounded breasts. It was so large that his hand could not contain it completely. He felt a warm thrill of forbidden pleasure as he caressed her soft warm flesh. They broke their long kiss, enabling the journalist to slip his other hand into her blouse and knead both firmly full breasts with relish.
"Mmmmmm... " Marsha moaned, as he tweaked the rosy pointed buds of her nipples, making them quiver and grow taut. "Gooood... "
Deftly, the raven-haired woman unzipped his trousers and thrust her hand boldly to grasp his lust-bloated, eager penis. With trembling fingers, she withdrew its heatedly throbbing length and expertly eased back the protective foreskin, exposing the purplish head. Her fingers stroked its massive column lightly and teasingly, sending shivers of hot excitement rippling through Al's body.
"Oooooohhhhh," he groaned, "that feels good!"
With equal adeptness, he slipped his hand under her short, tight miniskirt and wormed his outstretched middle finger into the tight elastic legband of her pants. Her dark pubic hair was moist and silky, and his extended finger, moving almost as if it had eyes of its own, quickly found the warm fleshy slit nestled within the curling strands. He began finger-fucking up and, down the entire length of the moistly heated furrow, from the quivering little bud of her hardened clitoris to the soft, buttery entrance of her cuntal passage. As she groaned wildly in a fiery eagerness and ground her loins against his hand, he slipped two fingers into the creamy orifice,, gently stretching the muscles, moving deeper and deeper with lurid, insinuating strokes. He was elated that she didn't resist him, as his frigid wife certainly would have done. Instead, the statuesque reducing salon owner relished his every sexual advance and, as his fingers found their way deeper and deeper into her wetly clasping pussy, she began violently pumping her pelvis back and forth, forcing his thick fingers even farther up into her obscenely eager cunt.
"What a man you are!" she crooned, clinging tightly to his neck with one hand, while the other continued its wildly erotic stroking of his cock. "You turn me on more than anyone I've ever met! I want you to fuck me! From the minute you walked in here, I've wanted you to fuck me!"
Her explicit language added fuel to the fire of Al's smoldering animal lust. All sense of morality and guilt were swept aside in the savage drive that pervaded every part of him. With a bestial groan, he suddenly pulled his fingers from the hot, fleshy depths of her cuntal sheath. His cock was tightly locked in her long slender hand and she began to jerk it slowly up and down, yet so expertly that Al thought he would cum right then and there! He pulled away slightly, to cool himself down.
"I'm going to lock the door," he said, his voice throaty with lust. "And then I'm going to ram my big prick up into that juicy cunt of yours so hard you won't be able to walk for a week!"
"Do it, lover," Marsha replied, her eyes glazed with obvious desire. "Oh Jesus... please... do it now!"
Swiftly, Al locked the door, closed the blinds, and took the phone off the hook. When he turned back to Marsha, he was amazed to see that she had used the time to strip herself naked, except for the black lace garter belt and sheer black stockings that rose up high on her lushly Firm thighs, and the patent-leather spiked heels. She had unfastened her hair so that it cascaded down in dark, glistening waves around her face, now a mask of torrid desire. Spreading her legs wide, she lay back seductively on the couch, deliberately exposing her naked, wetly glistening pussy to his hungry gaze. Even as he watched, Marsha's tapering finger reached down provocatively and parted the folds of moistly succulent flesh, revealing the moistly pink channel that led in and up from her vaginal lips.
"Fuck me, Al!" she groaned, almost incoherent in her hot need of him. "Shove your long beautiful cock up in my pussy! Hard! Now!"
Within seconds, Al had stripped his clothes off and nakedly joined her on the couch. Marsha lay back obscenely, trembling with eagerness and ready to be fucked. Hungrily, he threw himself on her tawny, golden body. His voracious mouth locked on the warm ripeness of her breasts and began to suck greedily, while his hands feverishly explored the entire length of her lush, sensually fleshed frame. She was still scantily clad in the black garter belt over black nylon stockings and high heels and this only increased his demon-like lust. He had never been so heatedly aroused in his entire life, and he felt as though he would never be able to get enough of her. Delighted that she had accomplished the first stage of her mission, Marsha eagerly ran her hands over the young announcer's broad muscular frame, savoring the powerfully quivering muscles of his back and buttocks. But her own excitement had reached an excruciating intensity, and she groaned in hunger, aching to feel his hotly pulsating shaft buried up to the hilt inside her belly.
"Fuck me now," she begged. "Ram your pick inside my cunt!"
Al needed no encouragement. Without hesitating, he positioned his long throbbing flesh staff at the entrance of her impatiently waiting pussy, then eased it slowly up into the moistly inviting folds of her cuntal sheath.
"Oooooooohhhhhhh!" Marsha moaned in ecstasy. "It's so big... so hard! You feel soo goooddd!"
He thrust his rock-hard penis deeper up into her trembling belly until the lust-swollen tip of his cock-head brushed against her spongy cervix. Arching lewdly over the passionately heaving amazon, he began to fuck her slowly with long, tantalizing strokes. With increasing intensity and speed, his ravaging rod of flesh speared savagely against the hotly expanding walls of her pussy, in and out... in and out.
Marsha humped her buttocks in perfect rhythm with him, matching him stroke for stroke, her vaginal walls clasping hungrily at his humping pole of tempered flesh. To take him as deeply as possible, she shifted her hips upward, spread her wantonly trembling thighs even further apart, and wrapped her nylon-encased legs around his waist, so that the sharp heels of her pumps rested against his hard-muscled hips. The hot, almost painful feeling of her spiked high heels jabbing excitingly into his pumping buttocks excited Al even more.
He knew that what they were doing was not only immoral, but foolish, considering how closely Marsha was connected with his upcoming expose, but he didn't care! He had held back for so long with his timid, troubled wife... had been forced to keep a firm rein on his wilder, deeper sexual urges. But no longer! With this raven-haired, dark-eyed goddess, fucking him on the couch in her office, obscenely thrashing and writhing beneath him, he felt free to indulge himself in every form of torrid, unbridled excess. He fucked up into her like a demon, ramming his blood-engorged hardness against her wetly swollen cuntal flesh with titanic force.
"Oh baby, I'm going to fuck you silly!" He growled savagely. "Fuck you until you go out of your goddamned mind!"
"Yeesssss!" Marsha groaned in ecstasy, her eyes rolling wildly in her head as her nails dug painfully into the naked flesh of his shoulders. "Yeeeeesssssss!!!! " Al's body was glistening with sweat now, and his every muscle felt alive as he moved against her with strength and precision. He could hear his balls slapping against the moistened anal crack as he rammed into her. Nothing mattered to him now! Not Pat, not his job, not the story... nothing! The only thing that mattered was fucking the hell out of the luscious bitch twisting and squirming beneath him on the leather of her office couch, fucking her hotly milking pussy until they both reached an explosive climax. He pumped his hips violently, and his thick hard cock drove up into her tender moistness with the force of a jackhammer.
The statuesque beauty's face contorted into a grimace of pain under his merciless thrusts, but her nakedly voluptuous body didn't cease its frantic undulation. Al's thick flesh shaft tore up into her cunt with hard, painful strokes, making her pussy walls ripple in protest, but she loved it! The harder, and more painful it was, the more she demanded it!
"Aaannnnnggghhh!" she moaned in wild abandon.
He snarled, savoring the conquered, submissive look in her formerly cool, impassive eyes. The spiked points of her high heels dug into the muscular flesh of his buttocks, encouraging him to fuck her even harder, and she raked the bud-like nipples of his chest with her fingernails so fiercely that he thought he would explode.
His hot, impatiently churning cum was beginning to boil and fill his sperm-bloated balls when he redoubled his intensity.
Marsha sensed the change in him and at the same time, felt herself jolted by her own unexpected, explosive bursts of passion. Her cuntal walls quaked furiously as her own climax drew nearer and nearer.
"I... I'm... cu... cumming... " she mewled. "Oh Christ! I'm cummmiinnnnggg!!!" Al too, was at the bursting point. He suddenly arched his body as if jolted with a thousand volts of electricity, and his madly jerking cock exploded with a gush of scalding cum!
"Aaaaaaannnnnnnnnnhhh! Oh Fuck! Fuck back!" he cried out, as rivers of white pungent cum jetted into her wildly clasping, spasm-seized cunt.
Marsha's own cuntal juices flowed like steaming vapor as she felt her convulsing vaginal cavern Fill with the warm wetness of the radio announcer's hot sperm. Her wantonly writhing body was rocked by tremors as the earthquake force of orgasm consumed her. White starbursts of ecstasy exploded behind her lowered lids as Al's load of warm sticky sperm shot deeply up into her hungrily grasping cunt.
"Aaaaaahhhhh," Al moaned, as he felt his passion begin to ebb after what seemed like hours. "Oooooohhh... "
The reducing salon owner also felt the flow of her female juices slowly diminish as her turbulent orgasm reached its natural completion. Languid and relaxed, she leaned back sensuously as her lover eased his rapidly deflating cock out of her still twitching vaginal sheath and sat down next to her on the couch.
"My God, that was the best fuck I ever had in my life," Al murmured, feeling more content than he had ever known possible.
"I don't know what happened," Marsha replied, not entirely untruthfully. "I've never been so turned on by a man."
Al leaned over and brushed his lips against her breasts, causing her nipples to suddenly spring erect again.
"Of course this doesn't change anything... I'm still going ahead with the story," he announced quietly.
"I wouldn't have it any other way, lover," the statuesque young woman smiled up. lazily at him. "I wouldn't have it any other way!"
CHAPTER FIVE
Patricia Simmons drove almost recklessly toward her home. She was still in a state of dazed shock from her seduction by Ken Roberts. Not only had the handsome young technician swept away the years of sexual inhibitions and anxieties in a few moments, Pat knew that she had to see him again soon. The innocent young housewife could scarcely keep her mind off the memories of those thrilling sensations that had raced through her body for the first time. She still felt light-headed and lewdly warm from the sensual tongue of the young man. It was almost as if her body were truly awake for the first time in her life. Nothing in her past experience had prepared for the delicious after-glow.
As she turned into her own driveway however, her happy dreams began to fade and the sight of the familiar house jolted the shapely blonde housewife back to reality, a shiver of cold fear rushing through her.
My God, she thought in sudden panic, what have I done? I'm a married woman... it must be a terrible sin for me to have enjoyed the lovemaking of another man! The awful word "unfaithful" sprang to her mind! There was no other word for it-she had let another man make love to her!
The terrible enormity of what she had done hung over her like a dark cloud as she went into the house. How could she face her young husband again without his knowing her secret immediately from the guilt that must be written on her face? Despite everything, she loved her husband and wanted to keep their marriage alive. The irony of the situation struck her, and for an insane moment she wanted to laugh. Her visit to the Body Shop had been for the purpose of discovering her husband's infidelity. Instead, she had violated her own marriage vows! And worse yet, she had promised the handsome young Ken Roberts that she would return the next day!
The unhappy young wife was confused and frightened as she took off her clothing and threw it into the laundry hamper. She wanted a good hot bath-to soak herself in steaming water until all traces of her salacious transgression were gone. Even as she ran the bath water, vibrant and exciting memories of her erotic afternoon with Ken Roberts raced through her mind, mixed with stinging flashes of shame and guilt over her wanton behavior. As she lay there soaking, she told herself that never again would she visit the Body Shop. Yet another, deeper voice regaled her with the memories of the ecstatic, animal passion that she had experienced. She wanted to repeat the wonderful, billowing climax, to be transported again to the lurid realms of pure erotic sensation that had overwhelmed her.
After finishing her bath, the still confused young wife went into the kitchen and fixed a snack for herself. Al's note had said that he would telephone tonight but Pat was uncertain if she could talk to him without giving herself away.
The hours dragged on and the telephone remained silent. Pat leafed through magazines and tried to watch television, but it was no use and she found she could concentrate on nothing but the delicious pleasures of that afternoon. By nine o'clock all of her suspicions about Al's infidelity had come back. Her own unfaithfulness was forgotten as she conjured up visions of her virile young husband in the arms of another woman. How could he be so inconsiderate at a time like this, she wondered half-aloud. To hell with him, Ken Roberts wants me, she thought bitterly.
At that moment the telephone rang.
* * *
In his downtown hotel room, Al Simmons was also confused and troubled by the afternoon's events. Not only had he blown the story, he had apparently succumbed to the oldest trick in the book in allowing Marsha Bennett to make him behave like a naive schoolboy. The voluptuous beauty had turned him on the way no woman ever had-including his wife Pat-and he had been stupid enough to think that he had the same affect on her. The doubts had set in after he had left the Body Shop, but for a while at least he had felt like a man, a powerful, virile man who could have any woman he wanted.
Now, he felt depressed and tired. Jim Gleason would never give him another chance, and after what he had done to Pat last night, his marriage was probably ruined. He had never wanted to make her unhappy, but there seemed no way of breaking through her frigidity. If only she had a tiny part of Marsha Bennett's sex drive, he thought to himself, everything would be fine. He was still reeling from their incredible fucking in her office.
The unhappy young husband knew that he had promised to telephone Pat this evening and he reluctantly picked up the phone and had the operator put the call through. It rang several times before he heard Pat's voice come on.
"Hello."
"Hi, honey," he said with as much courage as he could muster. "Did I wake you?"
"Al! Where in the devil are you?" she answered with a question of her own. "I've been waiting for hours for you to call."
"I got tied up, honey," he lied. "I'm truly sorry. Is everything all right?"
"Yes, everything's fine. When are you coming home?"
"Pat, like I told you in my note, I'm going to have to be away for several days on this assignment. I'll be home as soon as I can... you'll just have to trust me when I say it's important-for both of us!"
There was a long silence on the other end. Finally, he heard what sounded like sobbing.
"Then there really isn't much more to say, is there?" Her voice sounded weak, defeated.
The telephone suddenly slammed down.
For a moment, Al was tempted to phone her again but he knew that it would only result in an argument. Why in hell can't she trust me, he thought bitterly. Why couldn't she understand that it wasn't his fault? That this assignment was important to both of them?
The telephone rang and Al picked it up quickly, convinced that it was Pat calling him to apologize. The voice belonged to Marsha Bennett.
"I'm downstairs in the lobby, Al," she purred sexily. "Mind if I come up?"
Al's thick, fleshy cock lurched in his pants as he heard her voice. He had a sudden memory of her jutting melon breasts-those creamy, succulent mounds-so wonderfully big!
"Hell yes, baby," he replied passionately. "I can hardly wait!"
Lewd thoughts raced through his mind as he waited for the ravishing beauty to come upstairs and he unconsciously reached down and began to rub his pulsing genitals in anticipation.
In a few moments there was a knock on the door and Al hurried to open it.
"Hi, lover," the statuesque beauty said brightly. "Care for a drink?"
She looked unbelievably sexy standing in the doorway in a form-fitting blouse and miniskirt of shiny leather. The miniskirt was so short and tight that Al's eyes almost dropped out of his head as he realized that the hem was only about an inch away from her pussy!
She carried a silver tray in her hands that held a bottle of scotch, an ice bucket, and two glasses.
The lust-inflamed radio announcer took the tray from her and watched as she walked by him and into the room. Her long lithe body moved slowly, like a caged animal, the muscles of her legs rippling as she stood in the center of the room and twirled around. The shiny leather skirt was open almost all the way down from her navel, exposing her nakedly glowing flesh, and the young husband could see the tantalizing slit of her prominent pubic mound partly revealed by the sexy garment.
She waited until he had set the tray down on a table before putting her arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him toward her.
"I just couldn't stand it without seeing you again today," she said throatily, her eyes almost on a level with his. "I've never felt so whole and satisfied in my life as this afternoon!"
"That goes for me too," he replied with a lewd smile. He could hardly believe his luck in having such a desirable woman here with him. All of his previous doubts were gone and all he wanted to do was to fuck her again.
"How about a drink?" he asked, trying to regain his composure.
"I'd love one," she said, her hand sliding teasingly down toward the massively throbbing mound between his legs.
She continued to sensuously run her hand over his genitals as he half-turned and clumsily made drinks for them. Then, she slowly unzipped the front of Al's trousers and teasingly began to worm her long slender fingers into the bulging entrance of his shorts.
"Jesus, baby, be careful," he said in a voice growing heavy with passion, "or I'll cum right here."
"Don't worry, lover," she replied as she took her drink with a shaking hand. "I want this to be nice and slow."
As they stood there sipping their drinks her hand grasped Al's thick long penis inside the shorts, and with delicate, deliberate strokes she caressed the hotly pulsing cock into a rock-hard erection. Under her expert ministrations, the thick throbbing flesh shaft became swollen with lust and his balls tightened in hot churning eagerness.
"It blows my mind when you do that," he groaned, trying to mask the intense thrills that pulsed through him.
The statuesque brunette took her hand away for a second and gazed at him coquettishly. "I'd much rather blow something else!" Her tongue licked her crimson lips to insure that he understood what she meant.
Effortlessly, he guided her toward the bed until the backs of her knees were pressed into the soft coverlet. They finished their drinks and at the same time Al set the empty glasses on the bedside table as Marsha began tugging at her clothing. Al watched with mounting lust as her blouse was tossed aside and her magnificent breasts swung into view, her cherry-tipped nipples straining and erect against her golden creamy skin. In a moment, her miniskirt followed and she stood almost nude before him. An obscene grin played across her face, enhancing her lovely features.
"Why don't you help me with my panties, lover?"
While the lust-maddened young husband quickly disrobed, Marsha stretched out on the bed, her legs splayed wide apart and bent slightly at the knees. He could see the dark "vee" between her legs, hidden only by the thin nylon of her panties, her plump cuntal lips pulsing slightly as his eyes traced their outline.
Al wondered if there was a lovelier sight anywhere in the world.
Marsha reached out and took his heatedly throbbing cock in her hand as he climbed onto the bed, her fingers sliding back and forth over the thick foreskin, caressing the tip of the swollen, blood-engorged head. Her hand gripped the thick penis tightly, squeezing it then relaxing her grip.
"You have such a lovely big cock," she moaned up at him. "I just love it... I want to suck it forever, Al. Promise you won't cum quickly?"
She released his madly throbbing cock while he bent down and hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her panties and began to pull them down over her hips. Marsha moaned again with pleasure and lifted her lower body to help him. His feverish hands were clumsy but suddenly the thin panties were sliding down her long curvaceous legs and the frantic young man was gazing ecstatically down at her naked cunt. He felt her fingers on his head, pushing his face closer to the beautiful spot, but he needed no encouragement.
A fragrant female aroma tickled his nostrils as his face came closer to the glistening petal-like pussy lips, hair-lined and plump, opening slowly to expose the coral inner-skin as Marsha spread her legs apart.
His eyes were riveted to the smooth crease between Marsha's spread-eagled legs and his tongue licked his lips eagerly. With his thumbs, he spread the fluttering folds of cuntal flesh further apart, reveling in the nearness of such wantonness. He wanted to flick his tongue over the sweet delicate flesh that was open and exposed to him but something held him back. Never before in his life had he wanted anything so badly.
"Lick my pussy," Marsha whispered hoarsely. "Oh God, Al, please suck my cunt... please?"
All of his previous inhibitions were gone in a flash and he pressed his wet mouth into her burning flesh hungrily, his tongue running up and down the slick velvety folds of flesh, searching out each crevice and licking avidly at the lubricating juices that seemed to flow so freely from her pussy. Her pelvis began to rotate slowly and her body arched up to meet his eager mouth and tongue while her mouth poured out moans of ecstasy.
Lust-inflamed, Al began to move his tongue faster and faster over the full length of her hotly pulsing flesh, turning the coral-hued folds to liquid fire. His tongue flickered from side to side, up and down, over the rigid pleasure-bud of her clitoris, and then finally snaked deep into her lustfully burning vagina.
Marsha felt the soft sucking lips close wetly over her yearning pussy-flesh, and she cried out softly, thrusting her firm buttocks up hard as her thighs clenched automatically around Al's handsome face.
Al's massive cock was iron-hard now, pulsing mightily against the mattress as he labored over the moistly gaping pussy beneath his face. His swollen hardness felt as if it would burst from the excitement as he sucked Marsha's cunt, and he knew that he wanted to spew his thick steamy cum into her mouth or her pussy instead of wasting it on the bed. He moved his head up and down faster, sucking her taut tingling clitoris into his mouth and holding her little penis-like bud there while his flashing tongue drove her higher and higher... until she soared on a cloud of passion and delicious lust.
"Aaaaaahhhhhhh!" she moaned in ecstasy. "I'm cummmiinnnggg!"
With an eagerness that he did not know he possessed, Al redoubled his efforts with his searing tongue, working it faster and faster up and down her thrashing pussy, sucking the sweet flesh into his mouth and teasing it until the hot burning folds of skin glistened wetly from her fast-flowing lubricating juices.
"Suck it, baby... Oh my God, I'm cummmmmmiinnnnnnngggg!" she gasped, "Eeeeeeeeeeee!"
Her wails of pleasure rang around the walls of the room as she gripped Al's head with her long fingers and pressed it tightly against her churning cunt while explosions of joy rocked her.
"Aaaagggghhhhh!
Then, her tall shapely body collapsed and she lay there groaning, her half-open lips moist with saliva. Ripples of pleasure still surged through her as the young man continued to lick the pink petal-like folds of flesh between her legs. Finally, he dropped his head to her flat, smooth stomach and waited for her to revive. His throbbing cock pulsed madly and the pressure was almost more than he could stand.
"God, baby, that was good," she said at last. "Now let me suck you."
She drew his well-muscled body upwards with her strong slender hands until he was even with her. Then, gently she pushed him over on his back and grasped his throbbing cock-staff in her hand, pulling back the pulsing flesh and stroking it slowly.
"Make it last," she begged him as her head came down closer to the blood-engorged cock. "I want to suck you forever... don't cum too fast!"
Al was almost out of his mind with lust but he wanted it to last also, and every fiber of him strained to hold back the white-hot juices that were threatening to explode within his swollen testicles.
"Hurry, baby," he moaned. "I can't wait much longer."
Marsha suddenly lowered her head toward his thick jutting hardness, flicking her tongue forward, the tip boring teasingly into the seeping wetness of the tiny eye on the glans. He sucked in his breath from the sudden contact. Another groan came from his lips as Marsha brought her red ovaled mouth down all the way and enclosed the whole of the purplish bulbous head in the warm moistness of her velvety mouth, straining upwards at the same time. Her lips tightened like an elastic band around it just below the head, trapping it completely inside the warm wet cavern.
"Aaaaaahhhhhhhh!" The groan of pleasure at the sudden contact escaped his lips involuntarily.
With his cock still tightly clenched between her lips, Marsha snaked her body around so that her firm rounded buttocks were even with his upper body. Moving slowly, she lifted one long shapely leg and brought it down on the other side of his chest, exposing her dark hair-lined pussy to his fascinated gaze. He watched with mounting excitement as her white, moon-like buttocks separated and her tiny puckered anus came into view. Every detail of her moistly pink pussy and puckered rectal opening was etched into his teeming brain and his hands went out automatically to massage her blood-swollen cuntal lips while his fingers pulled her jiggling buttocks further apart. The little orifice seemed to be beckoning him invitingly, clenching lewdly as his head raised to come closer. Suddenly, he felt her warm mouth leave his heated cock and he groaned with frustration.
"Finger fuck me in the ass while I suck you," he heard her plead. "Hurry, baby, I want to cum with you."
Without further urging he pressed his long middle finger against the tightly puckered little hole, probing the resisting softness. He groaned again as he felt the warm mouth enclose his pulsing cock, enclosing it lovingly as her head plunged downward.
Her hips bucked back against his finger as the flesh gave way and he saw his digit disappear into the little rectal opening, worming its way slowly up into the warm buttery channel. With a last brutal lunge, he sank it all the way in and began to rotate it within the tightly clenched passage.
Marsha twitched her hips wildly back against the impaling finger while her sucking mouth drew the hard glistening cock slowly and deeply up into her moistly tight oral cavity. She massaged the softly resilient skin of his balls with one hand and stroked the base of his cock between the thumb and forefinger of the other as she began to suck rhythmically up and down.
In a matter of moments Marsha felt the first throbbing reaction of orgasm and began to suck harder, the tips of her teeth digging gently into the taut, resisting flesh, leaving thin white trails where they had scraped the blood from beneath the surface of the skin. She shifted her position slightly, kneeling lower into his genitals and taking in as much of the giant flesh shaft as her mouth would hold. She slid a hand under his buttocks and cupped them in her palms, and she felt him intensify the probing finger in her asshole. Her tongue swiped round and round the still-expanding glans furiously until she sensed that it was reaching the breaking point. Obsessed, she continued the maddening sucking.
He arched his back off the bed, pushing even deeper into her mouth. Greedily, her lips clung to the thrusting cock. He groaned over and over again as if in complete ecstasy from the sensations she was bringing him with her wildly plunging mouth. Her own orgasm was building quickly from the finger jabbing into her rectum and she sucked even faster on the thick cock held captive between her crimson lips while her flashing tongue licked avidly at the rampaging shaft.
"A aaaaahhhhhhhh... oh God... suck it faster... that's it!" he cried out in pleasure as the burning column plunged between the velvet walls of her mouth, lubricated by her hot saliva and the first drops of semen flowing from the dilated tip of his massive instrument.
Suddenly, he gasped and a low, guttural sound started from somewhere deep in his chest as the hot sticky sperm began to surge from the straining testicles and began spurting in hot thin streams up into her ravenously sucking mouth. Her cheeks expanded and hollowed greedily as she swallowed the warm flooding gushes of his fresh-tasting virility. She went on sucking wildly as her stomach felt the first lightning flashes of orgasm explode and the delicious sensations flood through her.
Gulping down the pungent liquid as it shot up into her willing mouth, Marsha sucked even faster, unwilling to give up its prize.
"Aaaaagggggghhhhh!" he wailed. "Don't stop... don't stopppp!"
With a groan of ecstasy, her shapely tall body relaxed and came down heavily on his, her greedy mouth still nibbling at the rapidly deflating organ as his finger gave one last vicious lunge before he pulled it from her rectum with a loud sound.
* * *
Patricia Simmons dressed carefully for her second visit to the Body Shop. She chose a clinging sheer blouse and short skirt that molded perfectly to her lush full figure, emphasizing the ripe curves of her hips and her upthrusting succulent breasts. She wanted to dress so that Ken Roberts would be as excited over her appearance as she was at seeing him again. Her freshly showered and perfumed body was eager and willing to again experience the sensuous thrills of yesterday. All last night and this morning her mind was filled with the thought of seeing the handsome young technician again and, hopefully, feeling the same lewd and erotic glow of satisfaction surge through her body until it blotted out everything except her own sexuality. Her hands fumbled nervously as she tried to tell herself that anything that happened now was her husband's fault. Had he come home last night he would have been rewarded with her newly-discovered craving for sex. Her doubts and suspicions about Al and another woman only made her more determined to punish him by letting Ken Roberts use her as he wished.
In less than an hour, she was walking into the plush reception area again, eager for whatever was to come. The receptionist looked up smiling as Pat walked in, a faint look of pity replacing the smile almost immediately as she recognized the attractive young wife.
The receptionist had been instructed this morning that Marsha Bennett and Ken Roberts were to be notified immediately when Pat Simmons arrived. Beyond that, she knew that the owner of the Body Shop and her assistant had arranged for Pat and Ken to use one of the special smaller gymnasiums-one that was equipped with a two-way mirror in addition to the hidden television camera and microphone.
"Why, good morning, Mrs. Simmons," she said cheerily as she pressed the hidden button under her desk. "All ready for your exercises?"
The way she said the word "exercises" made Pat wonder for a moment whether the receptionist knew what had happened yesterday, and she blanched slightly with embarrassment.
"Yes, I am," she replied. "Is Mr. Roberts available?"
Before the girl could reply, the inner door opened and Ken Roberts stepped into the waiting room. He was dressed in tight-fitting stretch gym slacks and was nude from the waist up. A broad smile played across his handsome face and he licked his lips in anticipation of his second session with the lovely blonde girl. She had her kicks yesterday, he thought lewdly, today's my turn and she's going to pay for her husband's activities!
"I've been waiting for you all morning, my dear," he said smoothly, taking her arm and leading her through the doorway. His hungry eyes devoured her voluptuous body as they walked down the carpeted hallway. Ken could see from the look on her face and the way she was dressed that she was ready and willing for more of yesterday's torrid love-making. It was exciting to know that women found him attractive and could be made to do anything he wanted.
He could hardly contain himself as he led the willing young wife into the special gymnasium room. Pieces of exercise equipment were scattered about to lend authenticity to the room that had been especially designed for the purposes of blackmail. Furtively he flicked a switch to signal Marsha that the room was in use.
Pat Simmons followed him with growing anticipation as the powerfully built, half-naked young man led the way down the hallway and into the room. She could scarcely resist the impulse to reach out and touch his tanned, hard body. Her knees felt weak and a strange pleasant sensation burned in the pit of her stomach.
As soon as they were inside the room he turned to her and pulled her body toward him passionately, his hands running down over her swelling hips with an undeniable urgency. At first Pat was taken aback by the sudden move, but soon she was overwhelmed with the electric thrill of being his arms, and she returned the embrace, swept away on a rising tide of pleasure as he began gently kneading her buttocks. Her eagerly trembling young body tingled in expectation and her vagina began to throb insistently as Ken kissed her feverishly on her warm soft lips. Then, just as suddenly, he pulled back.
"Get your clothes off, baby!" His command was sharp and the words snapped her back to reality.
Resisting her sudden anxiety, she looked around the room for a screen behind which she could undress. There was none, only the equipment that could be found in any normal gym and a low padded table in one corner of the room.
He watched her scan the room with her eyes and he became impatient to see her lovely body again, naked and exposed to him like he wanted.
"Get 'em off, baby," he said, fondling his swelling genitals beneath the tight material of his trousers. "My cock is gonna burst in a minute!" The suddenly frightened young wife, confused by his rough words, resisted his command.
"Ken!" she said in a timid voice, shocked by his lewd handling of his male organ. "It's silly, but I'd like some privacy while I undress."
"Kid, you don't know how silly that is!" His laugh was sinister now. "I really dig watching you cunts undress... but do it real slow, that really gets to me!"
Pat couldn't believe her ears. He was totally changed today. Yesterday he had been so gentle with her, so soft and understanding, but today he was behaving like a... a brutal rapist! Almost like Al had acted the other night when he had forced her to submit to him in the bathroom!
"Go on," he ordered. "Stop fucking around and do what I tell you."
Her eyes wide in fright and shock, Pat shook her head silently. Her wetly parted lips opened and she whispered one word, "No!"
"Yes!" It was uttered ferociously as Ken abruptly stepped forward and his powerful hand locked around her upper arm. "Now get 'em off!"
"Leave me alone," she screamed.
"Save your fucking breath. This place is sound-proofed."
Desperate now, she tried to twist away from him only to have his grip tighten. She felt a wave of excruciating pain shoot out from the muscles of her arm. "Don't," she whimpered, really frightened now. "You're hurting me!"
"Are you going to undress?" He .relaxed his hold momentarily.
"No!"
"Baby, I'm going to work you over for sure if you don't get with it," he snapped, grinning nastily. "You'd be surprised what I can do to a woman and never even leave a mark. But you'd feel it, cunt! Oh, you'd feel it for sure!" He opened and closed his fists, working his fingers in readiness.
"I won't! You can't make me!" Her voice was quivering with fear but she tried to face him down.
Without warning, he gripped her arm again, causing her to scream out with pain. It was as if he had broken it, and she almost collapsed from the agony. Through the pain and the sudden tears that flooded down her cheek she heard him laughing.
"See what I mean, bitch? I'm an expert at pain. You're lucky I want to keep you conscious for the time being. You should talk to some of the other old cunts who've tried to tell me what I couldn't do. And besides, you weren't so fucking high and mighty when you let me eat your pussy yesterday, were you? And you came back today for more tongue-fucking! Well, it's your turn to suck my cock and by God, you'd better get those clothes off.
His evil voice sliced through her nerves like a hot knife and the horrified young housewife found herself holding her hands over her ears and shrieking for him to stop the obscene words.
"Shut up... shut up!"
He waited for her to stop screaming and then continued slowly. "I'll shut up when you start getting undressed. You're going to get the lesson of your life today-who knows, I may even teach you to like sucking cocks." He pulled down his tight pants quickly and his huge penis sprang up, hard and erect, pulsing wildly as he teased the thick skin back and forth on the shaft.
Frightened almost out of her wits by the massive organ, Pat's will to resist was being battered down by the hopelessness of her situation.
With tears of defeat and shame streaming down her cheeks, she began to unbutton the thin blouse.
"Nice and slow... " he chortled with an obscene glee. "... do it slower... I'll get you some music to help you."
He quickly disappeared from her sight as he ran to the corner of the room and flicked a switch that suddenly filled the room with the blare of loud jazz music.
"That better?" he asked. "It'll relax you. Now get going... and remember, nice and easy!"
The young wife trembled in fear, and a black wave of shame engulfed her. Suddenly her whole world had begun to crumble. How could she have made such a terrible mistake to come to this awful place? She knew that she was about to be punished for yesterday's transgression and that there was nothing she could do about it!
"You thought you'd come back for some more pussy-eating, right?" His voice had begun to tremble as she stripped the thin blouse from her upper body, exposing her succulent full mounds, her nipples shriveled with fear.
"My God, Ken, I... I... I don't know why you're doing this to me," she said, her voice heavy with anguish. "Nothing to understand, sweetheart, nothin' at all. It's just that I want you to return the little favor I gave you yesterday. Only in my way!
Pat knew that she had no choice but to go along with him she had to do whatever he wanted, at least until the session was over, and then she thought desperately she could leave... leave and never set foot in this horrid place again! As the rock music continued to blast its lewdly suggestive beat, she took a deep breath to give her confidence. What a fool I've been, she thought, what an utter fool!
"Now you've got the idea," Ken said. "Do what I tell you and everything'll be just fine."
He went to the low, heavily-padded table stripped nude, and sprawled on it, stretching his young body sensuously. His legs were splayed, and one hand dropped lewdly to his genitals. He leered at the deeply ashamed wife while he stroked his pulsing cock.
"Now let's see you strip," he growled, "Nice and slow!"
Pat fought back a growing sense of revulsion, trying her best to comply with the degenerate young man's request. She began nervously once again to remove her clothing, while Ken stared at her with burning, lust-crazed eyes.
"Real slow like a whore!" he reminded.
The humiliated girl bit her lip fiercely to keep from bursting into sobs again, as she let the thin blouse fall to the floor. As she did, Ken began to stroke his cock-staff even more excitedly, his eyes hungrily drinking in the sight of her naked breasts. He could see her ripe crimson nipples becoming taut involuntarily as the cool air washed over her golden flesh and he had an impulse to cross the room and take the sweet buds into his wet mouth. The rosy buds were like seeds about to burst. He shuddered as a sudden spasm of desire surged through him at the sight of her full rounded breasts jutting provocatively. He licked his already wet lips again as the tight miniskirt followed the blouse to the floor and she stood there before him, naked except for the thin nylon panties, her body shaking with terror and wanting to scream as the depraved young man aroused himself on the couch. .
"Move it," he ordered her. "... move your ass!"
"What?" she asked, not understanding what he wanted.
"Get with it, baby, move your ass in time to the music!" His hand was already milking his massive cock in time to the sensuous music. "Do it bitch!"
Pat was staggered by his horrible behavior. He was even more perverted and disgusting than she had realized, but she was powerless to resist. The almost naked young housewife forced herself to sway rhythmically to the jungle beat of the music. Refusing to look at him, she closed her eyes... and found the lewd pagan beat of the music even stronger.
She felt totally humiliated as a husky-voiced male singer began to moan almost incomprehensible lyrics to the music. She blushed uncontrollably as her body twisted to the sensual rhythm, ashamed that she could perform so obscenely before the perverted Ken Roberts. Yet despite her revulsion, the driving music began to work on her reeling, confused brain so powerfully that she began involuntarily shaking her hips to the lewd beat of the guitar and the moaning voice.
"Yeah, baby, that's it... go... go!" Ken shouted, aroused to a fever pitch by the sight of the blonde young housewife undulating and twisting wantonly before him in her little bikini panties. He felt as if he had all the power in the world to force her to do anything that his perverted mind wanted and could conceive. He reveled in the feeling, for he lived only for his own erotic satisfaction, despising all the fools and idiots who had never tasted the delights of corrupting such innocent young flesh.
Pat was utterly numb now, so thoroughly dazed by the treatment she had received at the hands of the degrading young Ken Roberts that she could only surrender to her fate like an obedient slave. The music began to pick up its beat, a hammering driving rhythm roared through the room that made the dancing woman nearly dizzy from its intensity, yet she continued to shake her nearly naked, sweat-dampened body in a growing frenzy of lurid thrusts.
Suddenly Ken Roberts reached out and pulled her writhing body to him, unable to contain his excitement any longer. He grabbed her soft warm flesh in a vise-like grip with one hand while his other hand ran over her firm rounded, nylon-clad ass-cheeks with relish.
Pat was overwhelmed by the pungent male odor of his naked body and in spite of all her previous fears, the masochistic acceptance of her fate had made her love-starved body grow irresistibly passionate as she swung obscenely to the music.
A lewd smile played on Ken's lips as he suddenly thrust his hand down the front of the tight elastic panties, and his outstretched middle finger found its way roughly to the silky-haired entrance of her wildly pulsing vaginal slit, heatedly moist and soft from the carnal sensuality of the dancing. Without warning, he thrust his middle finger sharply up into the creamy little orifice.
"AAAAAAAaaaaaannnnnnggghhhhhhh! " Pat cried out in fright and protest from the sudden intrusion.
She tried to pull away, but Ken held her tightly with his free hand while his thick finger rammed all the way into her wetly clasping cuntal passage.
"No... please... don't!"
"Do as I say, cunt," he screamed back at her. "Do as I say!"
There was no mistaking the implied threat in his harsh words and Pat found herself surrendering to his depraved orders. It was no use resisting! No use at all! Even as she shuddered in abject defeat, his finger still cruelly impaled in her burning cunt, excitement and desire rushed suddenly through her sensually aroused young body as if they were violently released from within by her unwilling seduction. She had done everything she could to resist him-now she was no longer responsible for her actions. Her heart began to pound wildly as she let the aroused sensations wash over her.
With a little groan, she reached down and grasped Ken's massively erect flesh staff with trembling and uncertain hands. It was the first time she had ever touched any man's penis except her husband's, and a thrill of forbidden pleasure surged through her as she quickly pulled back the smooth thick foreskin and exposed the lust-bloated, rubbery head. She moved her hands up and down the long, thick organ, exploring every inch of hot muscular flesh with rising excitement as the naked youth pumped his hips back and forth obscenely.
"On your knees, cunt!" he ordered her.
Without protest, she eagerly fell to her knees in front of his body, her hands still avidly pumping the huge cock. She wanted to watch the white-hot cum spew out of the little slit in its tip, to revel in her subjugation by performing any obscene act her master required.
"Lick my cock!" he barked at her, his eyes and face aflame with lust at the sight of the innocent young woman kneeling before him. He wanted to degrade and humiliate her in every possible way. Better still, he knew that Marsha Bennett was monitoring the performance through the two-way mirror and the knowledge increased his excitement.
Pat was out of her mind with lust, but the thought of touching the massively throbbing penis in her hand revolted her. She wanted him to fuck her in her pussy, to fill her belly with the enormous pulsing organ until her legs split wide apart, to pound his beautiful thick flesh pole into her burning cunt until she screamed for mercy! But she knew that she was his slave and that she must first do what he wanted. There was no other way out! He had ordered her to lick his cock-to run her velvety tongue over the pulsing flesh and she must obey.
Her face went closer and her pink tongue flicked out tentatively, touching the purplish tip of the massive penis gingerly. It tasted salty-sweet to her-not at all unpleasant as she had imagined. Her long blond hair hung limply over her bare shoulders as she hunched over the mammoth penis in her hand. She wanted to close her eyes but she knew instinctively that she did not dare. Instead, she examined the warmly pulsing penis with fascination. It seemed so huge to her, much too large to fit between her legs and into the burning sheath of her cuntal passage.
"Lick it, Goddamnit!"
The lust-bewildered young wife flattened her tongue and began to lick slowly up and down the hot hardness, savoring the male aroma that wafted up to her nostrils. She began slowly but soon quickened her pace, teasing her wetly flicking tongue into every little crevice and fold of flesh, gliding it smoothly over the ridge of hardened flesh at the knob head and feeling the different texture of the tip.
Ken Roberts was crazy with lust and he pumped his hips forward and backwards as the young woman's smooth tongue lapped eagerly at his still-swelling prick. The pressures in his body were building and he knew that he couldn't wait much longer to shoot his fiery hot seed.
"Now start sucking!" His voice sounded strange and loud.
As though she were drugged or drunk, she slowly lowered her head until her ovaled mouth was wetly poised over the huge organ. Then, she allowed his rough hands to guide her mouth forcefully until the throbbing purplish tip touched her lips. She didn't want to do this-she didn't want to suck his cock, but somehow she had gotten into the situation where she had to do as he asked. She tried to make her mind go blank as her lips involuntarily folded around the thick throbbing glans and she tasted full the pungent moist heat of his cockhead.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" he groaned with ecstatic relief as her tongue slowly, now voluntarily, snaked around the sensitive glans and fed more of her mouth on the long rigid shaft. God, it tasted good and she had done it so easily! She heard him moan again and she wondered why she had always been so revolted by the thought of taking a man's penis into her mouth. It was no worse than many things she had done in her life. Actually, she thought to herself, it feels wonderful to have his smooth flesh sliding into her cavernous mouth, her lips contracting tightly to increase the pressure as the rubbery tip rubbed lewdly against the back of her throat, spreading its seeping liquid semen across the roof of her mouth.
She sucked hungrily on the rock-hard penis in her mouth, greedily seeking more of the hot flesh that began to piston in and out so smoothly. Then, with a shock she realized that her free hand had slipped down between her legs and one finger was feverishly gliding underneath her panty leg and searching for the aching slit that burned so pleasantly. She rubbed the finger vigorously against the clenching vaginal lips, building tremendous currents of electrical shocks that buffeted the excitedly trembling walls of her hot cunt. For her, reality was not the huge flesh rod pistoning in and out of her mouth, but the finger that had now found the bud of her clitoris and was caressing the bud of flesh lovingly.
"Suck it, baby... faster!" he cried out.
"Fasterrrrrr!"
There was a vague jerking in her throat and she sensed the impending rush of sperm that shot up from his balls and through the underside of his pulsing penis until it spewed up into her hollowing mouth, filling her sucking velvety oral channel with its pungent wetness. She gulped the sticky white fluid down almost absentmindedly, and concentrated on the finger plunging in her pussy. Her mouth was overflowing with sperm, yet the spasms of her own quickening orgasm were the only thing she could actually sense. Building higher and higher like crashing ocean waves, the blood-fed ripples of her climax stilled for a moment, then suddenly shot forward and snapped at her belly like a gigantic bull-whip, emptying her mouth of the quickly deflating penis and snapping her brutally back to her senses.
As she sank back on her haunches his evil voice echoed around the room.
"Now get those pants off, baby, there's a couple of holes that haven't been plugged yet!
CHAPTER SIX
Marsha Bennett watched Pat Simmon's head bob up and down on the glistening cock through the two-way mirror on her office wall. Her own breath was coming in excited pants as she saw Ken Roberts suddenly stiffen and the young housewife's cheeks bulge with his spewing cum.
Get hold of yourself, she silently told her racing mind as Pat's mouth finally pulled away from the rapidly deflating cock and thin tendrils of sticky white male sperm trailed from her red lips and oozed down her chin. The sight of the young wife sucking Ken's massive prick excited her tremendously and she hoped that Al Simmons would arrive soon and get ready for action.
She pulled herself up in her chair and glanced nervously at the wall-clock. It was almost eleven o'clock and he had promised to be here by ten-thirty. Christ, she thought to herself, not even Ken Roberts can keep Pat Simmons waiting forever. Everything depended on Al Simmons "discovering" his wife with the handsome young technician. That was Marsha's ace in the hole and it would prevent Al from doing his expose on the Body Shop. She knew that her own efforts to make him kill the story had not worked-even after their frantic fucking in the hotel last night he had still insisted on checking out the Body Shop himself. Eventually he would have found out about the blackmail, she knew, and it would have been all over for her. But no man-not even Al Simmons-would risk the public humiliation of his wife for a story!
Her eyes went back to the two-way mirror just in time to see Pat Simmons tugging off her brief panties while Ken Roberts looked on with sadistic glee.
The receptionist's buzzer suddenly signaled Al Simmon's arrival and the raven-haired beauty rose from her chair and went toward the doorway, flicking off the switch that controlled the mirror as she went.
"Good morning," she said cheerily as the door opened and the receptionist led him into the reducing parlor owner's office. He looked drawn and a little haggard and Marsha remembered how he had fallen asleep early that morning, his limp cock in her mouth, his aching body exhausted from her tireless fucking.
Al collapsed in the soft chair by Marsha's desk after the receptionist had left them. He had made up his mind this morning after hours of soul-searching; nothing would keep him from this story! If the Body Shop was nothing more than a whorehouse he was damned sure going to expose Marsha Bennett-whatever the woman did to deter him "Ready for the inspection tour?" Her voice was bright and there was no trace on her face of the obscene wantonness she had displayed last night.
"I am," Al replied wearily. "... and I think I should tell you, Marsha... no matter what's happened between us... if there's anything phony here... anything at all, well, I'm going ahead with the story!"
She laughed.
"I like a man with determination, Al, and you've got plenty of that! I haven't had a night like last night in years. Why, I'll bet you could satisfy a dozen girls like me."
Despite himself, Al felt a surge of masculine pride at her words. His ego had been so bruised lately by his wife's indifference to sex that it was amazing to him that he could still satisfy any woman.
"Who's going to give me the tour?" he asked finally. "I still don't trust you to show me everything."
"Why, lover, what a thing to say!" she protested, flashing her perfect white teeth in mock surprise. "What I had in mind was something quite different-a television tour."
"Television tour?" Al's voice was full of puzzlement.
"How do you think I keep tabs on the place?" Marsha asked him. "Every gym and exercise room in the place is wired for closed-circuit television. All you have to do is flip a switch and you have the Body Shop under complete surveillance. Want to see?"
She pressed a console on her desk and a large Picasso print on the wall swung away to reveal a television screen.
"Everything works off this console," she said as he rose and came around the desk to stand behind her. Her hand rested on the console, her long fingers skipping over but not pressing the three rows of buttons. "Each button activates a hidden camera and a microphone so that by pressing one of these you can zero in on any spot in the building."
Al knew that it wouldn't necessarily show him what he wanted to see-that Marsha may have already warned her employees to his presence in the Body Shop. At the same time, he was bone-weary and it would allow him to sit quietly behind the desk and observe everything that was going on. After he got the lay of the place he could make his inspection on foot and talk to some of the clients as Marsha had promised him last night.
"The buttons aren't marked," he said. "How do you tell which room is which?"
"Oh, I do it from memory," the statuesque brunette replied. "I'll get one of the girls to bring in the list and stay with you in case you have any trouble."
"Where are you going?" he asked suspiciously.
"I've got a client who insists that I give her my personal attention," Marsha said, pushing a buzzer. "Jean can help you... she's one of my more promising staff members."
There was a light tap at the door and it opened slightly. An attractive, redheaded girl stuck her pert face through the partly opened door.
"Did you want me, Marsha?" the girl asked smiling.
"Yes, Jean. Would you bring in the television room code?" she said to the girl. "Oh, and Jean, please cancel your appointments for the next hour or so... I want you to show my visitor how to operate the console."
Marsha arose from her chair and kissed the weary young announcer lightly on the cheek.
"I'm off, lover," she said. "Jean will take good care of you, and if you want me, just press the button for Gymnasium One, I'll be on the screen in blazing color!"
She turned and waved gaily as she left the room. In a few moments the door opened again and the redheaded girl entered. Al could see that she was dressed in a tight-fitting leotard that concealed nothing of her lithe young body. Her torso and curvaceous hips swayed invitingly as she crossed the room, her smile open and frank.
My God, Al said to himself, she can't be more than fifteen or sixteen years old. Everything about the young girl exuded youth and freshness. Her ripe young breasts jutted proudly beneath the thin material of her costume and Al's eyes went almost immediately to the swelling pubic mound where her cuntal lips were clearly outlined. He blushed as the girl saw him staring down at her pelvis and rolled her hips slightly.
"I'm sorry for staring, Jean," he apologized. "You're a very beautiful girl."
"Why, thank you, sir." Her voice was light and melodic and Al suddenly wanted her to stay with him. It still puzzled him a little how someone who looked so young could be working in the Body Shop. Her wavy red hair was cut shoulder length and it swirled around her lovely face like a bright hood, setting off her sparkling green eyes and golden skin.
Jean pulled up another chair behind the desk and motioned for Al to sit beside her. She settled her own sensuous body in Marsha's soft leather chair and poised her fingers over the console.
"Marsha said that you'd want to see the whole building on our closed-circuit television system. Where should we begin?"
The reporter in Al suddenly surfaced.
"Why don't we begin with you?" he replied, extremely conscious of the lovely young girl's sexiness. "I mean, why don't you tell me a little about yourself... you know, how old you are, what you do here, things like that... "
His eager eyes were traveling over her slim body, taking in the swelling breasts and her long tapering legs. He marveled at the change that had come over him since yesterday. He had been so tense and bottled up, like a caged lion really, with no help in sight. Now, the deepest, most savagely erotic aspect of himself was surfacing like a gushing oil well-powerful and still uncontrolled. He wanted to let it explode before he capped it forever-to savor the animal sexuality that his young wife had ignored. He hated to admit it, but his earlier resolve was disappearing rapidly and he had a tremendous urge to reach over and pull the black leotard from the nubile young teenager sitting next to him.
"Well, let's see," Jean started to answer his questions. "I've worked here as a technician for about a month. This is my first job since I left nursing school. I'm twenty, single and I live alone."
Al thought he detected a note of invitation in her last words and he moved his chair closer to hers. His cock was already pulsing heatedly and he found his eyes wandering down to the "vee" between her legs again.
"Are you really twenty years old?" he asked her. "You could easily pass for much younger."
"A lot of the customers tell me that," she replied with a laugh. "But it's true-want to see my birth certificate?"
Al was really getting hot now and he wanted to see something besides her birth certificate.
The young girl had spread her legs apart and was gently massaging her inner thigh. She was still smiling at him, but her eyes had hardened perceptibly and she licked her lips nervously.
"Marsha tells me you're a reporter or something," she asked him. "Are you going to try and put us out of business?"
Al was taken aback by her frankness and for a moment he could think of no adequate reply. Did he really want to put the Body Shop out of business? Certainly that had been his intention yesterday before he had met Marsha Bennett. Now, he was less certain about his motives. Oh, he was going through the motions, he realized with a lack of enthusiasm. He was going to scrutinize their operations-or at least as much as they were willing to show him. But there was a gnawing uncertainty growing in him.
Sensing his confusion, Jean pressed on.
"Would it really be that bad if you discovered that our clients were getting something besides what we advertise?"
"Of course it would," he answered with more conviction than he actually felt. "That kind of thing is illegal! If what I suspect is true, this is nothing more than a whorehouse! And I have reason to believe you're involved in blackmail also."
His long, thick penis lurched once and stiffened into erectness as the lovely young girl reached over and pressed her fingers into his thigh, kneading it slowly and gently. She was an expert and Al's whole body tingled with lust as her hand moved slowly upwards... coming nearer and nearer to his genitals. The confused young reporter found himself almost wishing the place were a whore house. Christ, it felt so damn good! But Jean moved her fingers away from his bulging penis and teasingly retraced their path downward again.
"That's not true!" she lied heatedly. "We only give people what they're willing and even anxious to pay for! Why should that be illegal?"
Al tried to relax his tense body. The last thing in the world he wanted right new was to argue with the beautiful redhead. His mind was racing, filled with lewd thoughts of what the nubile young girl would look like without the leotard. He wanted to reach out and strip it from her luscious body, to bare her ripely upthrust breasts and slim long legs to his full gaze. But no matter how hard he tried to stay calm, his thick eager cock had grown rock-hard and his sperm-churning balls were throbbing excitedly.
"I'll level with you, Al," Jean said earnestly. "There are some things that happen in the Body Shop that I don't much like either... extortion is one of them! But nobody ever forced a customer in here or made him come back against his will. And nobody pays a cent that they can't well afford! Anyone who gets fucked here wants to get fucked! They pay for the privilege of a little extra-curricular sex because they aren't satisfied with what they're getting at home. Is that so hard to understand?"
The young husband's mind was filled with confused doubts. It really didn't matter about the story or anything else; he had to satisfy the savage lust that raged within his rugged body. Too much had happened since yesterday to allow him to think rationally. He answered her question with a shake of his handsome head.
"And I'll bet you never even considered how difficult it is for those of us who work here," she continued, her fingers busy again, this time explosively close to his lustfully pulsing cock. "I have this thing about really groovy men like you. When they turn me on, well, something inside just tears me up if I can't satisfy my natural urges."
Jean's voice had become strained and he felt her eyes boring into the bulge between his legs. Her long slender fingers were only a fraction of an inch away from his straining cock beneath the material of his trousers, kneading and probing eagerly, inciting his steaming hot penis with an excitement he had never before felt.
"Jean!" he protested weakly. He knew that he was blushing and the thought angered him. Why in the hell should I be uncomfortable when a young broad does everything in the world but scream out that she wants me to fuck her?
"Oh God, Al, my pussy is sopping wet right now just from thinking about your cock!" Without warning she quickly reached out and unzipped his fly. Her hand slipped smoothly between the material and searched frantically for the small opening in his shorts. They both gasped with relief as her long fingers pulled his tortured, lust-engorged cock free, the tips closing over the hot flesh and squeezing lovingly. "God, it's so big!" she said in a surprised voice. "But I've got to have it! Jesus, I want your prick so bad... put it in my pussy now... oh, please... right now!"
She suddenly stood up, releasing his pulsing stalk of flesh and pulling the leotard away from her excited body. The material slipped smoothly down over her heaving breasts and slim hips and Al stared at her almost virginal young body in awe. He had never seen anything so lovely in his life! Her hips swayed rhythmically as she stepped out of the confining uniform and kicked it away from her with one long beautiful leg.
"There was no holding back for him now, no hope of retrieving control of the situation. His agile hands pulled away his own clothing as her frantic fingers reached out to help him.
"Oh Christ, hurry!" she pleaded. "I'm burning up... I'm going to explode... "
Casting aside his shorts, he pulled the panting young girl toward him and crushed her breasts into his hard palpitating chest and pressed his full lips down savagely against his tongue suddenly darting into her mouth. Expertly, she sucked his tongue into her mouth, pulling and teasing the flesh as their juices mingled. His hands ran feverishly up and down her willowy body, massaging the tender moon-like buttocks while she strained to wiggle her cunt up against his legs.
T-The couch... " she moaned, pulling her mouth away from his momentarily. "... fuck me on the couch."
He needed no further urging and he pulled her rapidly across the room. In a moment, she was stretched out on the soft leather-like material, one of her long slim legs hooked on the back while the other rested on the plush rug.
Trembling with lust, Al knelt down and pulled her legs even further apart until her whole upthrust pubic mound was exposed and naked to his eyes. Her plump little pussy lips, sparsely covered by silky tendrils of russet pubic hair, glistened wetly and invitingly, and the lust-crazed youth could see that her pink nipples were hard and erect against the flattened breasts.
He had to contain himself from crying out with sheer delight. This lovely young redhead was placing herself at his disposal with an ardor that he had never before seen. Erotic fantasies flooded his brain and his eyes bored into her downy covered pussy and he became possessed by the desire to plunge his mouth and tongue into that delicious, fleshy slit and suck it until she screamed out for him to plunge his throbbing cock deep up into her hotly excited cunt. He wanted to devour her succulent young pussy like a rare piece of prime steak; to taste that soft, buttery cuntal flesh now! His eyes darkened as a hungry salacious glint came to them.
"I'm going to suck that sweet pussy of yours," he said with a passion he had never before known.
Jean squealed with delight and pulled her legs even further apart as his heated face came down and his tongue darted into her steaming pussy, parting the quivering cuntal flesh.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! " she moaned with pleasure, straining her milk white buttocks upwards to meet his wildly fucking tongue that probed and glided up and down the smooth cuntal lips toward her clitoris. The little penis-like bud-all pink and glistening-was soon enveloped by Al's hungrily sucking lips and he reveled in the delicate, pungent female essence that wafted from her vagina like a warm aphrodisiacal perfume. He was overpowered by it, and in that moment he became transformed from an earnest young reporter into a dangerously aroused animal-a carnivorous beast that wanted to devour the tender young pussy stretched out before him. With a long sigh he gripped her firm, flaring hips with his trembling hands and pulled her succulent young flesh against his face, his tongue flicking down and beginning to explore the sparse nest of russet pubic hair that concealed the warmly moist slit within.
"Oh, yes... suck my pussy good... make me cummmmmmmmm!" she screamed out, her hands wrapped around his tousled head, pushing it down onto her naked crotch.
So intent were they both on their lustful pleasure that neither noticed the office door swing silently open and Marsha Bennett slip quietly into the room. She stood by the door, licking her lips with relish at the lewd sight of Al Simmons' slavering tongue on the young girl's widespread pussy, wet and heated from his oral ministrations.
"Oooooohhhhhhhh... " the redhead moaned. "Ooooohhhhhhhh! Eat it! Eat my pussssssssyyyyyy! " Fascinated by the exciting stimulation of the nude young couple, Marsha moved quietly toward the couch. She had changed from her office clothing into a skimpy gym suit of stretch nylon that clung to her every curve like an extra skin. Her eyes, glazed with lust, riveted on Al's insanely throbbing cock. She could almost still taste his pungent salty-sweet penis that her hungry mouth had devoured repeatedly last night. She wanted to have the iron-hard rod of flesh plunging into her again-into her mouth, her burning pussy, her eager asshole! Get hold of yourself she said silently to her lust-inflamed self, stop acting like a naive schoolgirl! When this is over and the danger is passed, you'll have all the sweet cock you want!
The groans from the lovely young redhead were becoming more insistent and Al redoubled his efforts, his tongue sweeping a wide moist path along Jean's quivering cunt from the point where only a small space separated her warm vaginal cavity from her puckered little hairless rectal opening, up through her glistening blood-filled pussy lips to the small knob of hardened flesh of her pulsing clitoris. His own genitals ached with desire as they throbbed against the material of the couch. He could feel the pressure building in his swinging balls, pressure that threatened to explode in a stream of white-hot sticky cum.
"Aaaaaggghhhhh! Don't stop... please don't stop... I'm going to cummmmmmmm!" Jean wailed, her voice almost incoherent with mad lust. Spasms of pure pleasure shot through her stomach and loins, her legs suddenly closing on Al's broad, hard-muscled back as she tightened her soft inner thighs around his handsome head and wailed out her delicious joy.
"Oh... oh... ohhhhhhhhhh!"
Inflamed by the aroma of the cuntal juices streaming out the girl's tender young pussy, Al licked and sucked even harder, wanting to bring her to higher and higher heights of pleasure. In a moment he would plunge his massive blood-swollen cock up into her madly churning cunt and he wanted her to be well ready for him. Just as Jean's body lunged upward and her wet pussy lips flattened against his mouth they were both startled by Marsha's loud voice.
"What the hell is going on here?" she demanded in mock anger, her long fingers digging into Al's shoulder. "Can't I leave you alone with one of my employees for a moment without you fucking her?"
Scare the shit out of him, she told herself, remember what's at stake!
The cynical owner of the Body Shop almost laughed aloud as Al's head came up from between Jean's legs and she saw the sheepish guilty look in his face. By God, she thought as she tried to maintain her role of outraged virtue, I think he's going to cry! Out of Al's line of vision, the redheaded young girl smiled happily with the combined pleasure she had just received and the knowledge that she had done her job in seducing the young reporter perfectly.
"You moralizing bastard!" she said with a rehearsed bitterness. "You complain about us and want to put me out of business and then you come in here and screw everybody in sight, including... " she waved a long arm at the outstretched Jean. "... including an underage girl! I should call the goddamned police right now!"
"Underage?" Al protested, scrambling to his feet and standing nude before the scolding woman, his huge cock still throbbing with frustrated lust. "S-She told me she was twenty. Tell her Jean," he turned to stare down at the reclining nude girl. "Tell her!"
His frustration turned to rage as Jean just shook her head dreamily. A low groan escaped his trembling lips and he bit down on the lower one to contain it. Jesus Christ, he thought savagely, I've been had again!
"Well!" Marsha demanded. "What's it going to be? Are you going to give up that foolish story or do I call the police right now?"
Al's desperate mind raced madly back and forth between thoughts of facing Jim Gleason with no story and the even blacker images of himself hauled off to prison on a statutory rape charge. There was really no choice for him-the question she asked had answered itself in the pitiful look he wore on his face.
Marsha stepped closer to him, her taut, upthrust nipples almost grazing his naked chest. She knew she had won and she couldn't resist the last final reward. Her fingers went down and curled around his huge cock tenderly.
"You don't have to say it, Al. You'll give up the story, right?" With ever-mounting passion, she pulled gently at the heated flesh of his pulsing. cock. "Of course, you'll have to tell them something. We'll work it out so that they won't suspect anything. And you won't be sorry, I promise you."
A sigh of relief whistled past Al's half-closed lips and he felt himself relax as the fingers continued to urgently massage his swollen prick. To hell with it, he rationalized desperately, what's the use of fighting it? I'm beaten... why not enjoy what I can out of the whole fucking mess? He nodded his head in defeat.
"Oh, Al, that's great!" Marsha's tone suddenly changed and she let herself smile for the first since she had entered the room.
Now's the time, she told herself smugly, clinch it right now! Her cunt was palpitating with anticipation and she increased the erotic pressure on his rock-hard erection. "Why don't we celebrate? Come on, Jean, how about a threesome?"
In a moment, the nubile young girl was off the couch and pressing her still perspiring body against Al's back, her ripe young breasts pressing lovingly into his warm flesh as Marsha Bennett pumped obscenely on his pulsing rod.
"You mean both of you?" the astonished young husband asked in a low, emotion-filled voice. His fevered brain was filled with lusty visions of the two lovely women satisfying his lusty cock and he could hardly control himself.
"I mean both of us?" Marsha replied with a throaty laugh. Who would you like to fuck first?"
CHAPTER SEVEN
In the room just a few doors from Marsha Bennett's luxurious office, Patricia Simmons slowly pulled her thin nylon panties down her long smooth legs. Little droplets of drying sperm-still lay at the corners of her mouth and her tongue licked at the pungent-sweet male cum involuntarily. Her tortured brain still reeled from the memories of what she had just done and she tried to blank out the obscene images of her warm mouth sucking greedily on the huge penis. She thought she must surely be going mad as she remembered how delicious it had tasted and how her cheeks had bulged out with the spurting white cum as she gulped it down like some thirst-crazed desert animal quenching a parched throat.
She kicked away the panties and looked down at the man stretched out on the matted floor. Ken Roberts lay there fondling his rapidly hardening cock in one hand, his face a mask of obscene delight as his eyes traced the outline of Pat's hair-lined pussy lips above him.
"Liked that, didn't you?" he suddenly demanded, his voice hard and filled with lewd suggestion. "You're all the same... I never met a sweet young thing yet who didn't take to sucking cocks like a whore!"
Pat Simmons was stunned by the words but she knew they were true. She was his slave now, an insignificant piece of flesh that would do whatever he ordered. She no longer had any will of her own. All that mattered was that she get her own pleasure too. Never again could she resist the lure of a stiff male cock plunging into her body. To her, it made no difference which of her body openings he used as long as she could recapture the exquisite pleasure of orgasm for herself.
"Get down here, bitch!" he ordered the naked young housewife.
Without protest, Pat lowered herself down and squatted next to Ken's body. His free hand went immediately to her warm vaginal opening and he massaged the moist cuntal lips, his middle finger teasing at the coral-hued inner flesh.
"Play with my cock, baby, I like that," he said sneeringly, inwardly laughing at the mastery he had over her every movement. "But first, beg me a little."
A warm glow was returning to Pat's pussy as the fingers continued to knead the blood-engorged lips and the reawakening of her lusts began. She reached over and took his still-swelling cock in her hand, almost afraid that she would be unable to control herself. She spoke the words he demanded in a weak, almost incoherent voice.
"Louder, baby, I didn't hear you," he said. "I-I want to play with your c-c-cock," she blurted out in a stronger voice as he dug his middle finger savagely upwards into her moist warm cunt, his nail scraping the soft inner flesh and causing her to jerk uncontrollably. Suddenly he pulled the finger free and plunged it into her anus without warning.
"Aaaaggghhhhhh!" she wailed as the terrible pain shot through her legs. Don't... please don't... not there!"
It was as if her whole lower body was on fire as the brutal rape of her rectum by his thick finger continued. She wanted to scream for him to stop but she knew by the look on his face that he was enjoying her cries of pain. Oh, my God, she thought as the awful pain surged from every nerve end, he'll kill me! He'll kill me! Mercifully, the pain subsided in a moment, to be replaced by a dull ache that she could bear.
"I may shove my cock up that tight little asshole in a minute. How'd you like that, cunt?"
"No!" she pleaded in a terrified voice. "I'll do anything you want!" Frantically, she stepped up the tempo of her hand on his pulsing cock, squeezing it eagerly as her fingers pumped up and down on the hardened flesh still moist with saliva and drying cum. "P-Please, I beg you, let me love your cock," she crooned. "I love it... let me make you cum again this way?"
"I'm going to shove it up your asshole!" he taunted the terror-stricken housewife. "I'm going to split you in two!" His savage finger lunged in and out of her tight rectum as he talked and the awful pain began again. Gasping with pain, Pat knew that her only chance to spare herself the awful rape of her anal opening by the huge cock in her hand was to satisfy him with her mouth or cunt. She tried desperately to pull her body downward so that she could take the throbbing male organ into her mouth, but he held her impaled on his finger, his strong hand threatening to tear the tender young vaginal flesh if she moved.
"No you don't, baby," he ordered her harshly. "Straddle my cock... and by God, move slow or I'll tear your asshole out!"
Inching her body upward, she slowly moved one long leg over his hips and poised herself with her cunt just over his wildly pulsing prick. Then, with a grunt she lowered her body until the massive purple knob head touched her cuntal lips, spreading the blonde hair-lined flesh and resting against the smooth velvet inner lips.
With a savage thrust, Ken Roberts arched upwards and she felt the thick pole of flesh lunge up into her tight cunt at the same time as his finger rammed into her rectum again.
"Aaaaarrrrrggghhhhhh!" she wailed as her cuntal and anal canals were filled with stiff male flesh. For a moment she thought she would black out from the pain. On and on his lusty hard cock plunged... deeper and deeper up into her almost virginal pussy... tearing at her tender cuntal walls as the massive purplish cock-head spread her delicate flesh before it. Then, she felt a new pain and she knew that the head was resting against her cervix, his matted pubic hair rubbing against her silken cuntal floss lewdly as he rotated his hips in time to her grunts.
"Now start fucking, you bitch," he cried out sadistically. "And it had better be good!"
* * *
Al Simmons suddenly found himself surrounded by soft female flesh as the two women knelt over his body. He was stretched out full-length on the soft rug of Marsha's office, his body pressing into the ankle-deep carpet while Marsha and Jean prepared to begin their love feast. The young redhead started first, to be joined quickly by the older woman. They began to lick his naked body, running their tongues tantalizingly over his abdomen and chest, sucking and biting on his nipples, then licking his armpits all the way up his inner arm to tease him. Slowly they laved him, working their mouths downward to his toes, each which they nibbled and sucked.
He had never felt anything like it before. Delicious erotic sensations began to ripple through him immediately, from the first instant they touched him. The paths of their tongues left an icy coolness on his warm skin, adding to his pleasure. He closed his eyes and moaned softly as the two lithe, sensual bodies pressed in on him from both directions, rubbing moist cuntal sheathes against his legs, filling his mouth with ripely taut nipples and, at the same time, running their hands and lips freely over his nakedly powerful body. Time and again he tensed, only to relax again as the maddening ministrations continued.
Every nerve, every inch of his flesh felt alive-quiveringly alive-and it was as though there was a fire in the heavy sac between his legs, emanating outward in every direction. His penis was massively erect, jerking and swaying in the air. His balls felt hard and tight, as though they were already full of thick male fluid, and they throbbed spasmodically as the two beautiful women worked over him.
He felt one of them spread his legs apart and begin sensuously licking the pale, sensitive flesh of his inner thighs, working her way upwards in wet circles. She flicked and whirled her tongue over his testicles, then took as much of the heavy hairy sac into her greedily sucking mouth as she could, nibbling softly and making him moan with pleasure. Next, her soft lips caressed his painfully surging penis shaft, finally curling around the purplish head and taking it deeply up into her mouth.
Suddenly, she abandoned her oral activities and straddled his waist, just above his cock. Al opened his eyes and saw that it was Jean. Her face wore a look of lewd wantonness as she spread apart her cuntal lips with her fingers, exposing the pink inner folds of her tight little pussy.
"Let me help you," Marsha Bennett said in a soft voice. She grasped Al's huge cock in her hands and began rubbing it back and forth over the moistly warm opening of Jean's pussy.
Al groaned as he felt her hot furry wetness against the charged rubbery head of his lust-enlarged cock. Teasingly, Marsha moved his pulsing hardness back and forth, almost but not quite allowing it to slip into the warm buttery depths. Jean moved slowly to bring her hard little clitoris against it, sending ecstatic waves of pleasure coursing through both their bodies, then twisting her naked young pelvis in a corkscrew motion, she slowly lowered herself onto his rigid pillar-like column. He groaned as he felt her moist softness engulfing his hotly throbbing shaft. Leaning back and using the floor for leverage, she began slowly pumping her smooth white buttocks up and down over him.
At the same time, Marsha squatted over his face, spreading her softly furred outer lips with her hands. Looking up, Al could see the thinly glistening crevice of her vaginal slit, already moist and throbbing.
With agonizing slowness, Marsha lowered herself over the willing face until he could smell the warmly perfumed aroma of her cuntal passage, feel the soft downy thatch of her pubic hair, and finally, taste the sweet tartness of her velvety vaginal slit. His tongue snaked out, touching the hard little bud of her clitoris, then moved downward and began to explore the fleshy interior. He could feel her lushly naked body tremble above him, and the knowledge that she was aroused filled him with new excitement.
"Mmmmmmmmmmm," he moaned, seizing her erect clitoris lightly between his teeth, and nibbling and sucking on it.
"He loves to eat pussy," Jean laughed. "Make him eat you good, Marsha!"
The sound of her laughter only made the incredibly erotic action even more overwhelming. Slavering wetly under Marsha, he began twisting his pelvis back and forth and up and down, in time with Jean's now intensifying fucking motions. His whole body was charged with excitement. He felt incredibly powerful, although he was stretched out on the floor and consumed with electrifying sensual feelings such as he had never known before.
Suddenly, Jean began to lurch up and down on his desire-swollen rod, emitting short gasps. His pelvis moved with her, bouncing up and down, lifting her off the floor with each stroke.
Above him, Marsha wriggled faster and faster, twisting and spreading her legs to force his wetly quivering tongue deeper and deeper into her shuddering vaginal passage.
"Nnnnnnnggggghhhhhh," the older woman mewled, her cherry-tipped breasts bobbing like corks as she undulated her pelvis around his lewdly licking and sucking tongue. It was like an incredible pump as the moaning, thrashing trio raised and lowered in unison.
"Oh... Oh... " Jean gasped, feeling her orgasm approach with galvanic intensity. "I'm cumming! Oh! Oh! Fuck me! Fuck me! Ffffffuuuucccckkkkkk MMMMEEEEEE!"
"Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeeeee!" Marsha wailed, her voice joining Jean's. It seemed to Al that the room was suddenly alive with lewdly writhing and screaming females. Marsha's succulently warm pussy began to contract uncontrollably and she ground it down into his face as though she would devour his tongue with her hungry vaginal mouth.
All at once, Al's pelvis began to rock furiously, as though he were going to erupt. He wanted to hold it back-to fuck forever-and he strained to hold back the surging white cum that coursed upwards through the passage in his rampaging cock. Suddenly, he knew that it was no use and he arched his body upward to meet the downward thrust of Jean's contracting cunt as it impaled him. His lips and tongue began to flutter involuntarily as he groaned his own orgasm into Marsha's pussy, his words echoing around the wildly pulsating walls of her red hot vagina.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Al stumbled toward Marsha Bennett's desk, his legs threatening to buckle under him from the exhaustion of his wild sexual binge with Marsha and Jean. Both of the women still lay on the soft rug, their arms and legs outstretched, their bodies slowly recovering from the explosive orgasms.
I've got to have some water, he thought desperately, his eyes trying to focus on the carafe of clear cool liquid that sat on a silver tray on the desk. Quickly, he filled a glass from the carafe and gulped it down greedily, spilling the cold water onto his chin and chest. He leaned his still shaking buttocks on the edge of the desk and he refilled the glass and sipped it slower this time. Unsteadily his free hand reached around to make contact with the wooden surface and accidentally touched the console with trembling fingers. Immediately, the room was filled with a woman's voice.
"Oh, my God... fuck me... fucccckkkkk meeeeeeeee!"
The voice trailed off in a low groan and the sound of naked flesh battering against other flesh replaced the words.
Marsha realized what had happened immediately and she sprang to her feet and raced to the desk, her hands trying to pull Al's fingers away from the console. He stood there, his body frozen, his frantic mind trying to identify the familiar voice.
My God, he thought, it's Pat! That's Pat's voice!
Then, with a mighty swing of his strong arm, he shoved Marsha away from him and turned toward the closed-circuit television screen. His shocked eyes were stunned by the sight of Pat's naked body straddling Ken Roberts, her golden hair matted around her head as she moved up and down on the glistening male cock impaled in her hungrily clasping pussy. Her voice wailed again, this time with greater urgency.
"Fill my cunt, master! Aaaaarrrrgggghhhhh! " The obscene sight almost drove the breath from Al's body, as if a giant fist had slammed into his midsection. He wanted to scream, to tear out his eyes as he saw that a man's finger was plunging in and out of Pat's rectum in time to his long cock spearing deep up into her pussy.
"Where is she?"
Almost insane with rage, he brutally grabbed Marsha's arm and twisted it. She was terrified and her lips opened but no sound came out.
"Goddamn you, where is she?"
"In the next room," the frightened owner of the Body Shop managed to blurt out at last. Her arm felt as if it were being tom off by the crazed young husband and she almost collapsed as he released her and ran toward the door.
"I'll kill her!" he screamed as he threw open the door and ran down the carpeted passageway.
Marsha recovered her senses quickly and, along with the suddenly alert Jean, ran after him. She knew that he was capable of murder at the moment and that he had to be restrained.
The two women caught up with him inside the room where Pat Simmons labored frantically over Ken Roberts' body. He was standing by the door, his hands over his ears to block out the obscene groans of his wife and her lover. Neither of them had noticed the three come into the room and their lewd display went on.
"You've got to punish her," Marsha whispered to the young husband, one hand on his arm while the other went down to his flaccid cock. She knew that there was only a slim possibility that she could control him and she had to take the chance. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Jean was on the other side, her frantic fingers massaging his body and trying to make him relax.
"Did you ever ass-fuck her?" Marsha continued, her voice still low and throaty with excitement. "Don't kill her, Al, please! Ram your cock up her ass! Show her what a real man you are!"
She made the male flesh in her fingers growing erect as her words washed over his fevered brain. With a quick toss of her head she motioned for Jean to get down on her knees and take his penis into her mouth. They had to do something to calm him down!
Jean sank to her knees quickly, her mouth forming an "O" with her lips stretched over her sharp little teeth. Her hands went around his buttocks and she pulled his trembling body toward her as Marsha guided the half-erect penis between Jean's lips. A shudder ran through his body as the redhead's mouth enveloped his thick cock and her tongue began to suck hungrily at the rising flesh staff.
"You'll do it, won't you, Al?" Marsha pleaded. "Split her in two like the whore she is! Make her scream for mercy!"
With a mighty effort, Al opened his eyes. Marsha is right, he thought bitterly, I'll make her suffer... I'll humiliate and shame her the way she deserves! He was still in a state of shock but the soothing words from the owner of the Body Shop and the warm slavering mouth of the girl who sucked his now-rigid cock calmed him. His wife's buttocks still humped up and down on the reclining man's massive prick, unaware that he was in the room. Ken Roberts, however, had suddenly realized that three pairs of eyes were boring down into his body.
My God, he thought desperately as he tried to push Pat's body off him, it's her husband! Despite his efforts, he could not move. His eyes widened in alarm as Jean suddenly expelled the huge cock from her mouth and stood up. Then, the three figures moved toward him and he heard Marsha call out to him.
"Ken! Get her around the waist and hold her!"
Pat Simmons screamed as the youth's strong arms closed around her waist with a vice-like grip and she felt hands mauling at her buttocks. She struggled to rise but it was no use, she was caught between two powerful male figures.
"Dirty bitch," she heard a crazed voice say. "I should kill you! Dirty rotten bitch!"
She felt Ken Roberts pull his finger from her rectum and the loud sound made her struggle even more. It was insane, she knew, but the voice sounded like Al! Suddenly, she knew that it was him and her mind went blank for a few seconds in horror. When she revived, the enormity of what had happened jolted her and she began to scream uncontrollably with hysteria.
Behind her, Al Simmons knelt on the floor, his lust-swollen cock pointed directly at the tiny puckered anal opening that nestled between his wife's quivering buttocks. Every nerve in his body concentrated on the hairless orifice that would soon be filled by his rampaging angry cock.
"I'll make you pay!" he screamed as Jean directed the huge purple knob into the cock-virgin anus.
"Al... don't... please, Al... I'll do anything... don't fuck me there!"
Suddenly the room was full of screams of rage and pain as Pat felt her rectum stretch widely before her husband's obscene onslaught. A burning heat of pain seemed to envelope her as his swollen cock savagely drove up into her rectum.
"AAAAARRRGGGGHHHHHHH! " Desperately, Pat tried to pull forward to escape the awful thrust, her feverish brain unable to believe such pain possible. Rough hands gripped her hips as the massive flesh staff began a rhythmic in and out movement and Ken's impaling cock in her pussy thrust upward in time to her husband's cock in her anus. She felt as if the thin membrane that separated her two passages would tear apart under the tremendous pressure of the fiery rods sawing in and out of her.
"AAAAAAAIIILLEEEEEEE! " Her humiliation was complete now, there was nothing more that anyone could ever do to her. She was completely and totally abased and degraded! Frantically she fought to lose consciousness as the pain subsided. Her great tears dripped down her cheeks and onto Ken Robert's chest as the awful pummeling of her body continued.
"Fucking whore! Go ahead and scream!"
It was Al's voice again. He was raving wildly as his body rammed in and out of her. She prayed for death-to be swept away on some black plateau of nothingness-anything but to have to endure this terrible ordeal! Then, just as she thought that she could stand no more a new feeling began to surge through her loins. It was almost imperceptible at first, only the first faint stirrings of something that was locked away inside her. But it built quickly! Her cunt and rectum seemed warmer and the pain receded rapidly, to be replaced by a dull but pleasant sensation. Involuntarily, her lower body relaxed and she felt the tingle of Al's wiry pubic hair as he rammed his heated cock up to the hilt.
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH! " Her cries of pain were gone and everyone in the room noticed the change. The sounds that came from her throat were still indistinct but there was an urgency and a softness that she could not control.
"Fuck her harder, Al, she's beginning to enjoy it!" Marsha urged. Her own fingers were busy in Jean's wet pussy, her eyes ablaze with lust from the erotic sight of the ass-fucking only a few inches from her face.
Pat Simmons heard the raven-haired woman's words and she realized with a shock that they were true! Her body was now pumping in concert with the invading cocks, savoring every thrilling lunge up into her hungry pussy and clasping rectum. She no longer wanted the ordeal to be over; now she wanted to prolong the delightful sensations that were coursing through her legs and belly. She was loving the skewering and she moaned in ecstasy as the tempo increased. Her buttocks undulated sensuously back against her husband's charging cock, churning faster and faster as she felt him tighten in anticipation of the load of white cum that would soon explode within her nether channel.
"Harder... fuck me harderrrrrrrr!" she wailed as the first spasms shook her and the thrilling sensations built exquisitely. Nothing in the world was better than this, she thought dreamily, her body jerking and humping furiously as both cocks exploded at the same time. The white-hot male sperm began spewing into her hotly stretched orifices, flowing deeply up into her rectum and her already sopping pussy.
"Oh, Goooooodddddddddddddddddd!" she screamed hysterically. "I'm cummmmmiiiiinnnnnggggg!"
She collapsed unconscious on the exhausted body of Ken Roberts, sandwiched between the still-spurting cocks which filled her ravaged but satisfied body.
CHAPTER NINE
Patricia Simmons hurried to the ringing telephone. Her supple young body dodged around furniture, collapsing finally on the soft couch as she brought the suddenly silent receiver to her ear.
"Hello."
"Hi, baby," Al's voice said brightly. "How's my little sexpot today?"
The happy young wife smiled in appreciation at her husband's words. She loved to have him call her little nicknames; it was a constant reminder to her that their days of bickering were over.
"I'm just fine, lover. Are you coming home soon?"
"Aren't you going to ask me about me meeting with Jim Gleason?" he chided her.
"Oh, yes! What happened? Are you going to lose your job?"
The young couple had been worried all weekend about Al's meeting with Jim Gleason today. There could no longer be any delay in Al telling the news director that the Body Shop was clean-that he had found no evidence of any wrongdoing or illegal activities. He was also to report that Marsha Bennett had agreed to cancel any contracts for clients who thought they might have been bilked.
"Whoa! One thing at a time," Al replied. "First, he congratulated me for a good job and said that they were satisfied with my version of the story. And no, I'm not going to lose my job. In fact, I'm now a full-fledged member of the WHT news staff."
"Al, that's great!" Pat said happily. She was so proud of her handsome young husband and she wanted him home so that she could show him just how much she loved him. "Congratulations, honey, I'm so happy for you."
"Thanks, baby. Get yourself ready for a celebration tonight, I've got another surprise for you-Marsha Bennett is coming out for the evening. She's waiting for me downstairs right now. Okay?"
Pat's heart began to beat faster and she felt a warm glow spreading through her loins at the news. Marsha Bennett coming here?
"Of course it's okay, Al," she replied. "Are we going to do something special?"
She heard her husband laugh heartily.
"To tell the truth I think she wants to eat some of that sweet pussy of yours! And while she's doing that I may just think of something interesting to do with this cock of mine. Any ideas?"
"Al, stop it!" Despite herself, Pat was blushing furiously as she heard her husband laugh again and then hang up.
She sat there for several minutes, her mind racing with exciting and erotic thoughts. She could think of several things for Al to do with his huge, beautiful cock and all of them involved her crimson-lipped mouth.
The happy young housewife felt a slight twinge of guilt as she thought of that awful morning in the Body Shop when Al had discovered her with Ken Roberts. It had only been through the careful pleading of Marsha Bennett that Al had agreed to forgive her and try to work out their problems. Al had been more than happy with his decision, of course, after he found out that his wife's sexual inhibitions were gone.
Pat blushed again as she suddenly remembered the older woman's words of advice as she and Al prepared to go home that day: "Never deny your husband-or yourself-anything that seems right to both of you. That's what keeps places like the Body Shop in business!" Pat had put beautiful Marsha Bennett's advice to the test every day since and the results were obvious to her.
I would have gone crazy without Marsha, the young wife said to herself.
Now, in less than an hour Marsha would be here. This would be Pat's opportunity to once again prove that she would never again deny to her husband-or to herself-the thing that had caused so much trouble for them both in the past few months.
Patricia Simmons was humming happily to herself as she arose from the couch and went toward her bedroom-to wait for her husband and their lovely guest.
