Many sociologists have stated that the United States is suffering from one gigantic Oedipus complex. This may very well be true because of our psychoneurotic desire for security and an unwillingness to share, combined with the almost impenetrable strata of societies within our society.
Bella Dietrich has taken this thesis and used it as a basis for one of the most excitingly explicit novels of the year, Pete's Mother. On the surface, the story deals with the sexual hang-ups of a fabulously talented and attractive woman, Lillian Morgan, who has broken up her second marriage at the behest of her teen-age, mentally disturbed son, Pete.
On a deeper level, it is the story of two pathetic people who have a need for security and an unwillingness to share each other with the world. At first diagnosis, both deny this, but it is apparent that neither has the ability to love, or give of themselves, or receive love from anyone else.
Deep in their individual miseries, they turn to the chimeral world of psychiatry for help.
Dr. Fredric Herndon, who accepts them as patients, realizes he must make both mother and son realize what they are doing to each other and those around them. Both are appalled at his recitation of the classic definition of Oedipus complex, as he tells them that the condition is brought about by any undue or unhealthy attachment of a child for his mother, that the condition almost always is morbidly suppressed and causes great mental distress through illogically remote manifestations in later years. "The name," Dr.
Herndon tells them, "has its roots in antiquity, based as it is on the Greek legend of Oedipus who unknowingly married his own mother and had sexual intercourse with her."
Dr. Herndon's cure is dramatic! To young Pete, the psychiatrist assigns his stunningly beautiful red-headed colleague, Dr. Yvonne Monteaux. Lillian's therapist is to be Dr. Herndon, himself. Isolated from each other, surrounded by a sensual atmosphere and two sexual pleasing people, both Lillian and Pete succumb to their natural instincts so long suppressed. Later, they must interact sexually with another mother and son suffering the same problem as they; the "transference" takes place, and Lillian and Pete come face to face with their hidden selves and black desires for the first time. From this moment on, their cure is assured.
As the fascinating story of their recovery continues, the reader finds himself sucked up in the esoteric world of "group therapy" and group encounters which are, to the uninitiated, nothing more than orgies involving dozens of couples.
No one could be better qualified to write this novel than our authoress, who uses the pseudonym Bella Dietrich to cloak her real identity as one of the West Coast's best known psychiatrists. Young, attractive, with a ripe and sensual figure, Miss Dietrich could very easily pass as the comely Dr. Yvonne Monteaux in this novel; portions of the book may very well be autobiographical.
With the aggressive Women's Liberation movement gaining momentum in this country, it would seem that in the future more and more young males will find themselves in Pete's position�_"clinging to mother, incapable of rapport with any females of his own generation, and suffering a love-hate attachment to someone who can only strip him of his manhood eventually. It is thus that the great Oedipus circle is completed, for it was Oedipus who slew his father and married his mother, only to die himself.
The Publishers of Dansk Blue Books are fortunate to have a woman of Miss Dietrich's professional calibre writing for us; we hope this will be only the first of many such books to come.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
The bright spring day was cool and a small wind fluttered the tall pines along the village streets. Lillian Morgan pulled the lynx collar on her smart camel suit higher against her throat, glancing at her son, Pete, apprehensively. He was lagging behind. She knew from experience he'd try to evaporate just as they got to the doctor's office.
In all his eighteen years he'd never done anything she wanted him to... anything that needed to be done or even had to be done. But, this time. Well, she hadn't come all the way from New York to Carmel, California, to have Pete pull one of his disappearing acts or one of his rages now. World-famous psychiatrists didn't come cheap.
She turned her head and saw that Pete was gazing in one of the shop windows... at least twenty feet behind her. Impatiently she walked back.
"Pete. We're going to be late."
"I'm not going. You go on," he answered casually.
A sudden rage went through her, the kind of rage she criticized in Pete. She knew perfectly well she couldn't physically drag an eighteen-year-old, six-foot one-inch son to the psychiatrist's office but she also knew she could not allow him to brazenly refuse to go. This doctor was her last hope for Pete... her last hope for herself.
"You're going," she said grimly. "You're going, all right, or I'll get back on that plane to New York and go straight back to my husband which is where I belong. And you can go to hell in your own way!" she blazed.
"Stop pulling me," Pete hissed, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging her hand off his arm.
"Then get yourself into that office!" Without thinking or caring any more that she was treating him like a five-year-old, she grasped his arm firmly and turned him with her into a small courtyard.
She meant what she said. This was the last chance for Pete. He'd finally accomplished what, she realized now, he'd started out to do from the moment she'd married Gordon Atherton. Split them up. Separated them.
As they walked in stiff unison across the cobbled courtyard a tall portly man came out of one of the doors and stopped in his own tracks at the sight of Lillian striding purposefully along with the tall gangling boy beside her. He couldn't know that Pete was her son, of course. No one ever did. She'd only been a terrified and trembling fifteen-year-old when she'd had Pete.
The man stared at her with burning eyes. Lillian could feel them. She'd never gotten used to it though men had been doing it since she was twelve. She could feel this man's eyes start at her pale hair coiled in thick loops like spun sugar, to her deep-set long-lashed startling black eyes, and then slide down her long throat to her thrusting full young breasts, over her firm flat belly and taut hips to long beautiful legs. Her warm suit with the fur collar fell away under his gaze and was no protection.
She was annoyed at his brazen stare. Gordon never stared at her that way and when he was with her no one else dared to. He was so kind, so considerate, so dear... except for those awful scenes over Pete that had become more and more frequent. In the last one finally, a month ago, he had shouted furiously, "Are you going to be wife or mother, baby? I don't need a mother! I need a wife!"
Gordon's usual calm lawyer's reason simply could not or would not function on the subject of Pete. One of the things she loved about Gordon was his ability to go right to the heart of the matter. He was a fine man, a brilliant man. She'd begun to fall in love with him almost as soon as she'd hired him as attorney for her firm, Fabini, Inc.
But he was too emotional and unreasonable about Pete. As a stepfather he just couldn't see Pete as she did. Gordon had said so many things that were so unlike him. Accusing her even of frigidity and worse.
Somehow she hadn't been able to make him understand that her nervousness and coldness were all part of the terrible, seemingly insoluble problem of Pete.
Pete wasn't like other boys. Sickly as a child, moody, temperamental with an ungovernable temper that only got worse as he got older. She suspected now that he was ill or soon would be... ill in the head. Mentally ill.
She'd had to admit that to herself.
Maybe... if she'd had Gordon all the years of Pete's growing up, it wouldn't have been like this. But she'd only married Gordon a year ago.
She'd been alone from the moment Pete was born. That awful hospital room in the county hospital, the beds jammed so close there was only an aisle between. The screaming of the other women, most of them just girls who'd gotten in trouble. Their babies would be adopted. Lillian had been just as frightened, just as young, but unlike the others, married to a twenty-year-old soldier.
When the hospital found out the boy had deserted her, they used every pressure to get Lillian to give her baby up, too. But after she'd turned her face to the wall and wept the bitter wracking tears of a desperate little girl, she had steadfastly refused. When she dried those tears and turned back to face the doctor, she was no longer a little girl. She was a woman with a baby to look after... and she did and she had.
This was the bitterest of all the hurts... to have slaved and worked inch by inch up from the genteel poverty of her childhood, to have broken out of the shell of a small southern town in Virginia, to have clawed her way from clerking in the local department store all the way up to president of Fabini, so her child would be protected from all the suffering she'd had... and then to have him turn out as he had!
It was a cliche she could never accept... that kids needed the hurts and bitterness in order to grow. All the babbling about affluence ruining kids! It was poverty that ruined kids. She'd seen too many broken on the rack of poverty, maimed before they started.
She looked at Pete, and anger eased into the permanent hurt that seemed always to rise in her chest at the sight of him.
A tall gangling boy, Pete Morgan slumped in a perpetual cringing from the world. His dark blond hair hung in a shaggy mop, neither terribly long nor very short, and his dark blue eyes looked out from this fringe sullenly.
He retreated from the world as surely as Lillian's father had crawled into the pseudowarmth of a booze bottle and guzzled the poison that had killed him when Pete was still a baby. The year of the deaths, the "Black year," Lillian had called it.
First, John Morgan, her lanky young soldier-husband, had simply disappeared with his outfit in Korea and never been heard from again. Her pride wouldn't let her pursue him either legally or morally for she'd been too guilty about marrying him only to get away from home. So his going had been a kind of death. In the agony of birth and the desperateness of her situation her own girlhood had died too. Then her father, scion of an old family, dying a tramp's bitter, decadent death. Her aloneness was complete for her mother had gone two years before in the wasting of tuberculosis.
Somewhere, from some unknown source deep within herself, she'd found the necessary energy and resolve. No one had taken her baby or beaten her down.
She'd done it all for Pete... or had she done it to Pete, she wondered now. Tears of guilt threatened to rise in her throat. Oh God. Those bitter years couldn't have been for nothing. The years she'd worked fifteen, eighteen hours a day so Pete could have the best private schools, the best vacations, the best clothes, the best friends... and now, here she was, a continent from her own home and Gordon Atherton.
One quick year was all she'd had of love. Not even that, for Pete had started his hate campaign from the moment she'd married Gordon. Their life had been made a hell 'til finally Gordon had yelled, "Choose, baby. Choose now! Are you going to be wife or mother? Because I don't need a snot-nosed punk's leftover mother! I need a wife, a woman... woman... now!"
Lillian grasped the brass doorknob of Dr. Fredric Herndon's carved oak office door. He was celebrated all over the world for his famous transfer role techniques. At least among his colleagues in New York she found he was considered the very best in his field. She'd made sure of that. Having had to make do with hundredth best or twentieth best for so long, she couldn't tolerate anything now but the best of everything. She could afford this Herndon. After all, Lillian Morgan was a name in the fashion world; president of Fabini, with retail outlets from coast to coast and three factories in New York to supply those stores.
The waiting room was serene and elegant and hushed. The hush of money was evident in the deep thick olive carpet, the paneled teak walls, the low quilted natural linen furniture.
Across the room was a strikingly beautiful brunette with diamonds on her fingers that were almost too large and showy. A young man was with her, so much like the woman that Lillian was sure he must be her son, only his was a breathtaking masculine version of the woman's beauty.
Lillian and the woman smiled at each other, the knowing wary smiles of doctor's patients who recognize they are in the same boat.
Pete slumped in a deep chair and held his eyes sullenly on a magazine, never turning the pages. His body language said more plainly than any words, "I'm here under duress, therefore I have no duty to cooperate. It won't work because I'll make it fail."
As they were ushered by the office nurse into the inner sanctum of the doctor, Lillian sent up a little command prayer. "All right, doctor, you'd better be as good as your reputation."
"This son of mine has got to be cured, purged, motivated, repaired... something! I've made enough sacrifices and willingly until now... but I want Gordon back. I won't give him up forever. I want him back now!"
Dr. Fredric Herndon kept pushing his black-rimmed glasses back firmly on his nose as he glanced over the notes, charts, and tests he'd demanded from Lillian on Pete before he'd even agree to taking him as a patient. They had taken up Lillian's last frantic week in New York.
There was an air of competence about Fredric Herndon, Lillian thought as she sat nervously in front of his desk. Oddly, it was coupled with an unexpected quiet warmth. Certainly he instilled confidence. Lillian began to hope that perhaps she'd found a beginning for Pete. Then with Pete taken care of... she could begin again with Gordon.
"You see, it's invariably necessary to treat both parent and child as patients... simultaneously, as it were. I'm sure you understand. Otherwise, it would be like trying to cure the ailing branch without ever checking the root."
Lillian found herself nodding, though she didn't agree at all. She didn't want to be a patient. She certainly didn't believe that all Pete's problems stemmed from her. But Herndon had a soothing, deep melodious voice that sounded as though nothing but perfect sense could ever be uttered by it.
A strange-looking man. Very black hair that silvered a little at the temples. A spare angular man with square shoulders and planes to his face that looked as though struck from some ancient rock. Though obviously occidental, there was a faint oriental cast to his face which made him seem mysterious despite his warmth.
He explained their problem as he saw it but in rather obtuse language that he assumed they understood. He asked a few gentle questions. Pete even seemed to relax a little. His face was less stiff while Herndon talked and there was the tiniest spark of interest in his bruised young eyes.
The doctor pressed a buzzer on his desk as he was saying, "You'll find Dr. Monteaux very helpful, Pete. I usually turn my younger patients over to her first. This is her field really. Her work on Gestalt therapies and their implementation in the existential young adult male is quite brilliant. You needn't be at all apprehensive. She's quite easy to talk to and very informal... and, of course, of your generation."
"But, Dr. Herndon, I understood Pete was to be your patient. We've come three thousand miles just so he could," Lillian protested.
"And so he is. But, you see, this really is my way. Experience has proven that Dr. Monteaux is most effective in the early visits. You, of course, will see me for the initial therapy," he smiled reassuringly. He looked much younger when he smiled, a hint of a dimple creasing one lean cheek and his pale yellow amber eyes losing their hypnotic cast in pleasant amusement.
Pete was led out the door by the most amazingly beautiful young woman Lillian had ever seen. Pete was obviously so dazzled that the pair of them had vanished before Lillian could say more than how-do-you-do.
Yvonne Monteaux had thick rich red hair that curled in tendrils on cheeks, forehead and down the nape of her neck and the creamy ivory skin that went with it. Her sparkling eyes were pale golden green like champagne that never went flat. The white doctor's coat she wore over her navy pleated skirt could not hide the incredible curves it was never meant to accommodate.
Fredric assessed the woman at his desk as he closed the door on Pete and Yvonne. He'd been right about this one... but then he usually was. He was honest enough with himself to realize that his enormous success had been mostly due to choosing the proper patients. If they were chosen for treatable sexual neuroses, then success was almost certain. There was simply no percentage in drug addicts or schizophrenics.
He was going to enjoy this case. Even from a three-quarter rear view, where he could look his fill without being seen by her, he could feel his groin tighten. Heredity had been very generous with her. The fine bones and poreless skin that no amount of money could buy and no amount of make-up could feign. Those incredible black eyes that had a way of looking at a man that sent a freezing jolt through his loins. Spanish blood? he wondered. Sometimes the pale hair and black eyes came from the San Sebastian area. The long delicate ankles, calves and thighs, the sweeping curve of throat down to the pointed globes of her magnificent breasts that hung high for the picking. Yes, he was going to enjoy this case. He rarely allowed himself to handle cases like this... but then most of them didn't look like Lillian Morgan.
Lillian fingered her rings nervously, wondering what she'd let Pete in for. Idly, to distract herself, she looked at the large glass frog on Herndon's polished desk. It was a magnificent Steuben piece with ruby eyes that shot fire when the light hit them.
The fiery-eyed frog only reminded her of the red-haired doctor who'd just led Pete away. She was so young... that girl. How could she be a doctor? She wasn't too much older than Pete. And she was so... so flamboyant. No. Sexy. That was the honest word. She exuded pure animal sex. And Pete was so young and totally inexperienced. God, what had she led Pete to in her burning desire to help him? Had she only added more problems for poor Pete? And the way that girl had looked at him... like a cat at a bowl of cream.
Fredric came back to sit at his desk, smiling at her reassuringly. Then as though he could read her mind, "I know Dr. Monteaux looks quite young... and, of course, she is... but she is a doctor and a very valuable assistant to me. Believe me, you'll see an improvement in Pete almost immediately. He'll be more relaxed, less hostile, more open and receptive." Herndon leaned across the desk, fixing her with his magnetic eyes and lowering his voice in a confidential manner. "I know it's hard to put your trust in a stranger... the very strangeness of a stranger makes him suspect. But try not to make up your mind too soon. Give me a chance. Open yourself to the choices, the possibilities." His voice was hypnotic and as beautiful as the stage voice of a Burton or an Olivier.
She found herself again taking his words as gospel. "You'll have to bear with me, Dr. Herndon. You make very good sense but perhaps the years of struggle... of becoming a self-made woman," she laughed bitterly, "have made me too suspicious and cautious for my own good. I'm sure my most unfeminine characteristic is that caution that comes from surviving in a business world," she smiled.
"Just don't let it trap you... like him, poor fellow." He held up the glass frog and turned it over so she could see straight into it from the top surface. There, captured inside, was a beautifully carved miniature prince, complete with lace cuffs.
"Oh, my," she laughed. "I had no idea there was a prince trapped in there. How charming! The old fairy tale. Hasn't anyone tried to kiss that frog and free him?"
"I need him as he is. I keep him on my desk to remind me," he joined in her laughter and came around to sit on the edge of his desk. "You see, all of us wait around to be freed from our various little frogdoms. We grow fond of our prisons and dare not accept the kiss of freedom even when it comes. My job is to teach you to accept and want the kiss," leaning down in a perfectly normal and natural way to brush her forehead with his lips. "You see... you almost jump out of your skin."
Lillian looked up at him in confusion and uncertainty. "Well, I'm not used to... well, I mean... I," she stammered, blushing furiously and feeling completely inadequate to the situation and resentful at being put so somehow in the wrong.
"Never mind, my dear," he said gently, standing up. "Come along and we'll go into my study where it's much more comfortable and less formidable," he waved his hands at the file cabinets and tape recorders and medical books.
Lillian had dealt with bankers and designers and corporation presidents and decorators and lawyers and millionaires for so many years and had never felt the least bit apprehensive, but this man... this Dr. Fredric Herndon! He intimidated her! She, Lillian Morgan, president of Fabini, Inc., felt like a not-too-bright little girl in his presence. An uncanny little shiver of excitement ran down her spine. At the same time she was being intimidated she also felt a strange elation... the elation of knowing he thought her a desirable and beautiful woman. There were tiny clues that told her this. The way his eyes lingered a fraction too long at her breasts, the way his fingers lost no opportunity to brush her ever so slightly.
"Here. Let me help you with this." His hands were on her shoulders removing her fur-collared jacket. She'd only pulled the collar away from her throat, feeling a little warm. He slipped it from her shoulders quickly, hanging it deftly on the coat rack before she could protest.
Herndon smiled warmly down at her, slipping his hand high under her upper arm to lead her through a door that opened on a pleasant, wide, book-lined room. Lillian felt his hand like a brand burning through the thin silk of her cream blouse. The back of that hand was brushing the side of her breast at every step. Her whole left side began to warm as though long cold embers had been stirred to life.
"You've had a very difficult time, haven't you, Lillian?" he asked gently, turning her to face him in front of a walnut breakfront that held his bar. "We'll have a drink and get a few of those kinks out."
He poured drinks even as she protested, "But it's only the middle of the morning."
"But this is much pleasanter than tranquilizers which I'd have to prescribe. As for time. Time is quite meaningless... at this moment. And the moment can only be snatched... not computed," he ended softly.
Lillian forced herself to swallow a gulp of the drink and look away from those amber eyes that probed her very soul. Her knees felt no more substantial than jelly. Concentrating hard, she walked a little stiff-legged away from him.
Fredric followed the sleek expensive creature with his eyes... the vulnerable nape of her neck, the curve of her back tapering to a narrow waist and taut camel-skirted buttocks, the nyloned calves down to expensive brown alligator shoes.
"I think you've been very lonely all your life... and you've worked much too hard. This is a tiny island of 'time out.'" He insisted she have still another drink while they talked casually of the books and paintings.
Lillian could feel the alcohol easing through her body and a lovely lazy enveloping warmth overcame her... a combination of the Scotch and Fredric's hypnotic voice.
Presently she found herself on a wide leather couch with her stockinged feet curled up and Fredric Herndon gently massaging her feet as he talked... the toes, the arches, the ankles. She closed her eyes, giving herself up to the pleasant warmth of the Scotch in her stomach and the strong warm hands kneading her feet. God, she hadn't realized how tired she'd been... for so long now.
Fredric could feel her relax under his hands, her eyes closed, her toes opening and closing like little anemones, her breasts rising and falling gently under the silk. What breasts! They were heavy with promise, the nipples almost visible through one of the new no-bra bras and the silk of her blouse. He could see the thighs clearly where her skirt draped down between them... magnificent slender tapering branches leading to the crossroads, the fork of her crotch, the mound of Venus.
"Poor little Lillian," he murmured, taking one slender white hand, turning it to his lips and tenderly tonguing the palm.
The touch of his tongue on her palm sent fire through Lillian's cold veins. An alarm was clanging in her head and reverberating. What was this man doing! She couldn't even remember how her shoes had been taken off or when. Her eyes flew open to find his face an inch from her own, his breath warm and close.
"I... please don't," she gasped, but her face was held firm where his hand caught her jaw and his other arm pinned her body. She found her mouth caught by his in a slow agonizing kiss that literally sucked her breath.
His tongue probed her mouth, darting in more and more daring searches. She pushed at his shoulders with her hands futilely, for he was terribly strong. She could not break the kiss though she tried valiantly, her brain screaming inside her head, "This man is no doctor," though she knew he was. "What is he doing? What am I doing here?"
Fredric held her fast, squirming armful that she was. Her expensive perfume reached his nose... a delicious heady scent made even more exciting by the warm woman smell of her skin. She tasted like the smoky Scotch they'd drunk. She writhed and he held her tighter. He liked a woman who made it worthwhile. God, he had known the moment he saw her that he couldn't let her get away.
His hand slid down the column of her throat, feeling the pulse beating wildly in its flesh prison. Further down he found her breast, so full that even his big bony hand barely covered it. It felt heavy-meated as though full of honey that only his mouth could suck out.
Her breath was coming in shudders through her nose and she felt his hand slide down her throat to her breast and it betrayed her, seeming to nestle in his hand, the nipple popping out turgid in his palm. Little jagged wires of pleasure raced through her. She sighed in spite of herself and was still.
His mouth moved then to her cheeks and eyelids and ears and throat in soft little kisses and murmurs... one hand caressing the nape of her neck and shoulder blades... the other sweeping across the mountains of both breasts, down the valley and back again like a five-fingered army in victory.
Nibbling and kissing his way across her beautiful face and throat, Fredric felt his cock stiffen fully. Not too fast. This was something to savor and enjoy... not gorge and gulp. Her breasts were swelling even more under his hand, the little snub-nosed nipples almost wriggling with joy like puppies being praised. His fingers found the button of her blouse at the cleft but it wouldn't slip through. Damn it! To hell with it! He ripped it from its mooring and heard the cloth shred with a little shriek. Two beautiful mounds with blooded-rose tips shone through the transparent net bra. God, he had to have those nipples in his parched mouth. He caught the thin net and tore it, pulling everything away from those two gloriously gorged breasts.
"AH-hh-hhh-hh-h�_"ah," she cried as his hands cradled her naked breasts and his mouth found one nipple, sucking the marrow, the honey from deep within her belly and loins, up through her breast and nipple and into his hot mouth. She clutched his head to her breast in ecstasy and the world fell away.
The honey of her filled his mouth and his hand were full of the globes of life, bursting under his bruising fingers. Sucking deeply, he imagined he could taste the sweet heavy drops in his mouth. He moved to the other and bit the tip of that hard rosy little nose. "God-odd-od-od-oo-d!" she moaned and clutched him tighter 'til he could only breathe the hot satin skin of her breasts. He was sucking an elixir that flowed fire down his belly to his loins and became a molten inferno that lifted his rod even higher to a rigid firing position.
Lillian was flaming. She knew it. Her skin must be red, she was so hot. She didn't know any more how she had got here or why. She only knew she had to get closer to this fiery god who seared her flesh.
He moved to shed her of the tatters of her blouse and bra and threw them in a corner of the couch. She stood then, naked from the waist up, suddenly cold without his hot mouth. She shivered, crossing her arms at her waist, unconsciously cleaving her breasts together.
"Here, my love," he commanded, holding his arms open for her to come to. She stepped up to him obediently and felt his arms wrap close around her hips, his head buried between her breasts. "I must do all this, the first time," he whispered. She swayed, but he held her tightly, one hand finding her skirt zipper.
Then he slid the skirt down her hips until it fell around her feet. His fingers tugged her pantyhose over her buttocks, below her belly and down her shapely legs and off over her feet. She stood on the pedestal of her crumpled clothes and his eyes made her feel like a goddess... proud in her nakedness... shoulders back, breasts thrusting, waist and hip and thigh indented in impossible curves, her pubic mound swelling gently in a little golden hill above her secret valley hidden in the joining of her thighs.
He looked at her long, in silence, his eyes laving her body. At last he said, "I'm going to take you slowly and well... do you understand?"
She nodded dumbly, her eyes searching his face in quest of command.
"You have come to me for aid and succor. I will give you all I have." Then he stood up and slowly, deliberately undressed. The jacket, the tie, the shirt, shoes and socks and finally the trousers and shorts as though he were performing a slow-motion ballet.
At last he stood as naked as she, hard where she was soft, straight where she was curved, flat where she swelled, swelled where she was folded.
He stepped to her, took her face in his hands and kissed her gently as though afraid of breaking the spell that held her. Impossibly her eyes filled with tears and then she felt her knees weaken and tremble. Just then he caught her and lifted her off the floor in his arms. She felt herself exalted, lifted above pain or loneliness. Her head fell against his shoulder and she closed her eyes.
Though she was tall, Fredric carried her weight lightly. It was only a few steps to the llama-covered bed in the corner of the room. His rigid cock strutted ahead of him. He hadn't felt so much like a rooster since he was twenty.
Her hair had lost its pins and rolled in pale waves as he laid her on the fur-covered bed. She looked up and smiled. He kissed her forehead and she reached up to touch his face tenderly.
His lips traced invisible map lines over her face and body... from mouth to ear to nipple to wrist to navel to thigh to palm to belly to knee to toe and back again. Then he pulled her so tight against him she could feel his heat the length of her body.
Lillian was trembling and almost panting with closed eyes, pressed so close to this strange man who built such a white heat inside her. She felt as though she had no control at all over her own body or her behavior.
It was almost as though she watched herself from afar and yet... she felt everything... all of it, his tenderly brutal lips, the sharp white teeth, the amber eyes as hot as his talented bony hands that moved over her in waves, slow advancing waves that threatened to drown her entirely in deep and delirious desire. His hot mouth, oh God, how hot it was... burning her every time it touched her skin and yet she could hardly bear the brief instants he took it away only to put it back in an even better place.
"God, you are so beautiful," he groaned in her ear, holding the length of her against him so tight she could hardly breathe. His tongue wet the inside of her ear and then dried it with his hot breath. "Made for pleasure... the pleasure only a man can give you. I'll give you more than you ever dreamed you could feel." His teeth caught her earlobe and the little pain became another wave of pleasure lapping her body. Then his tongue slid down the tender inside of her upper arm... back to her ear in hot thrustings like a little penis throbbing.
"Ohhhhh-hh-hh-hhh," she moaned, pulling his mouth to hers so she could feel the searing plunge in her throat.
The hot hollow of her mouth was only a foretaste of the blazing hollow of the beautiful golden-haired hot box between her legs. He'd promised to take her slowly and well, he reminded himself but he couldn't hold out much longer. He was almost bursting already and he'd barely started. But how could he help it when she quivered when he looked at her... much less touched her. Either she'd lived almost a nun's life and was starved for sex or she'd had so much practice it didn't take much to set her off. He was inclined to believe the former. She didn't really respond like a hooker... even a high-class one.
God, she was a hot one, though. Her beautiful incredible breasts were so sensitive, he'd discovered already, that almost before he touched them the nipples hardened into tight little buds and he knew what that did in turn to her delicious golden-haired pussy.
He slid one hand down her pale satiny side, softly caressed her smooth hip, across her taut belly and down to the feathered edge and further to find that she was drenched with love juice. God, she was soaked already! She was starved for his great throbbing rod that was mashed so deliciously between them. Well, he'd give a ramming that would set her libido humming. He'd shove his cock into that pulsating little wet satin pussy 'til she screamed with sheer joy.
"Lilli," he breathed against her throat, "Lilli, Lilli, Lilli." He pushed one finger gently into her clasping, quivering wet cunt. How haughty, austere and forbidding when she'd swept into his office, wrapped in expensive camel hair and fur, like a queen hiring an underling's services. Well, look at her now. She needed his service more than she knew. Only this service... not the one she'd come for... a good hard down-to- earth head-clearing fuck!
"Oh-h-h-h-h," she breathed softly, letting him do whatever he would, alternately sinking and rising on billows of oncoming pleasure. She floated and sank and rose again, bobbing with the wide tide that washed her.
"Oh, God," he cried, sliding on top of her. She could feel his weight and wanted to hold him forever... naked and hot and enveloping. His knees pushed her legs apart and she could feel the great burgeoning cock, thick and long against her belly like a blunt knife. She needed him inside her. She needed to be filled and fulfilled. Oh God, how she needed him. Involuntarily she arched up, pushing her pelvis up to meet him.
Suddenly he pushed up and she saw his lust-contorted face smiling down at her. He caught his great bruising stallion rod in one hand and waved it.
"Look, baby. I'm going to split you with this and fuck you 'til you cum screaming!" She looked in horror at that great distended, blood-gorged instrument... his... cock being waved at her... and his lustfully grinning face and heard him say again, "You need fucking so bad, baby. God, do you need fucking! And I'm going to give it to you good!"
She shrank in horror and disgust, a panic gripping her guts. It was as though she'd been wakened from an evil spell. My God! What was she doing with this maniac of a doctor she didn't even know? It was as though a cold firehose hit her in the belly. Pete? Where was he? How? How had she gotten here naked on a bed with a complete stranger? What vile magic had this maniac performed to get her, Lillian Morgan, in this insane posture about to... ?
"Oh my God! Let me go!" she screamed "Not now, baby. I'm going to fuck you!" He slammed her back against the bed. "I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before!"
She struggled, pushing at his face, trying to tear out his face with her nails. She wanted to tear out his tongue for saying such vile things. A murderous rage gripped her and she fought like a tigress. They were flopping and struggling all over the bed. He was a maniac and she must be mad too. How could she? What had happened to her and how? She'd endured Pete's father but she'd have done anything to get away from home. When he'd taken her and bloodied her and left her with a baby, she'd sworn she'd never be taken and used and discarded again. All those years she'd kept herself pure. The years of purification. Then Gordon... only last year. She loved him and he'd been so sweet and gentle... never pushing her... 'til finally he'd gotten so angry about Pete, who'd never left them alone, who'd used them so with his fights and rages.
Even at the last, Gordon had never done anything like this maniac. Oh God, she prayed, please help me get out of this.
He pinned her down, still writhing, and forced her legs apart for an instant. Some women loved rape and this one wanted it. God, how people lied to themselves... but he'd show her just how big a lie she'd told herself all these years.
The sweat glistened on her forehead and her face was twisted in the agony of fighting him off. Tears poured from her eyes and wet the hair at her temples. Her eyes shone in pure animal terror and he felt the surge in his cock, his balls almost bursting! God, he loved a woman who made it worthwhile. He could feel the semen churning hot, ready to spurt out his penis. Oh God! He had to unload soon. She turned her head to try and bite his hand and he lunged, sinking his cock to the hilt in her hot sticky tight cunt that gripped like a vise.
"AGH-GH-GH-AGH-H-H-HHHHHH!" she screamed. He had her now. He caught her mouth and forced his tongue in 'til she could only gag and moan. He was in completely... cock to the hilt, tongue lunged and locked. Her arms were pinned to her sides and her legs wedged apart for as long as he wanted her. And he wanted her! God, she was wet and tight and he could feel the cervix pushed against the hot head of his rod.
He didn't move... just held her captive to do with as he wanted... filled with him. His cock in that beautiful hot gripping cunt... his tongue in that lovely mouth. All of her gloriously under him... a beautiful, wanting, needing woman.
At last she was still. Now she'd play the "It doesn't mean anything to me" game. "Do what you want with my body. You can never touch my soul. I'm dead." Well, she'd change her mind in a few moments. He'd see to that.
He gripped her jaw and pulled his mouth away. "All right," he said as calmly as he could with his cock vibrating and pulsing in that wet little vise cunt. "We found out several things. You lie to yourself. You think fuck is a dirty word, describing an even dirtier action. I am stronger than you are and will have you either with or without your consent... and we found out you are a very unloved woman who needs love more than anything else. Right now you are pulsing inside and clasping me with all your might... and you won't even let yourself feel the glorious feelings." As he talked he could feel her ass that he held with one hand relax. He kissed the tears away from one wet temple and savored the salty taste.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Lilli, baby. I'm going to love you and fuck you in ways you never dreamed of.
Fucking's beautiful. Loving's beautiful. You've been a lady frog long enough."
She wept silently. Slow tears just crept from her eyelids.
"We're going to make you whole again... a woman... a real woman," he whispered.
Gently he slid out 'til only the glans was inside her and then he pushed in again... all the while kissing her and crooning and soothing. Her arms crept out from the cramped position he'd held her in and came around his body. Miraculously, when he slid out again her hand pushed his ass to make him ram home again inside her pulsing wet vagina that clove to him so eagerly.
"Oh, Lilli, baby. Isn't that better? Oh, sweet, sweeeeeeet," he chanted. Her hands stroked his back and buttocks, pushing him to her harder on his downstroke.
"Darling!" she cried softly, beginning to breathe audible breaths. He was right. She needed love... desperately needed love. All those years she'd refused the glories of love and now she couldn't even if she wanted to. That beautiful pulsing shaft of his bit into her deeply and it was glorious! Oh God! So good! She could feel him pulse inside her and as he drove it home, deep, deep inside her, she felt so full and beautiful and happy. She never wanted it to stop. "Go on, darling," she urged, beginning to pant. "Don't stop!" she panted.
"Can't," he managed. "We're never going to stop. We're going to fuck... and fuck... and fuck!"
"Fuck me harder, darling," she begged. Her hips writhed and her pelvis lifted to meet him as they beat out a building rhythm that carried them on and on and on.
"Go-o-o-od! I can feel you up in my throat!"
"That's right, baby. I'm... fuck... ing... you... all... the way up... to... your... throat... and I'm going to fill... you... with... cum 'til you overflow! Oh, baby! Ba-a-a-a-by!"
"Beautiful... beautiful," she groaned, beginning to throw her head from side to side in anticipation. "Your lovely cock is fucking me to death. Oh... doit... doit... do it to me!" She didn't even wonder at how she could be using words like that... words that had never passed her lips before. She was only conscious of one thing... that huge cock whipping her to life and love. Fucking in and out of her pussy 'til she thought she would surely die of the sheer bliss.
"Yesssss... yesss... oh, honey... yesss!"
Her hips ground and rotated in a lewd gyration that milked his jerking cock as he shoved it deeper and deeper into her clasping clenching, spasming cunt. God, he could feel his eyeballs burning with the hot load of thick boiling white cum building in his balls.
"Baby... baby," he sweated. "I want you to cum... with... me."
"Yes... yes...." she moaned. "Fuck me, darlinggggg!" Her legs and hips clutched him, sucking him into a swirling, clinging, shattering vortex that was going to explode.
He ground it home harder and harder. Her nails dug his back in long rakes and her teeth found his shoulder as they drove closer and closer and closer. A scream was building in his skull that was going to rend the sky and shatter the stars. Wildly she clutched and heaved and bucked, climbing his pole like a vaulter... and he hammered and battered and banged. Her thighs came up and wrapped around his waist and they came together in great shuddering crashes, body to body, belly to belly, cock in cunt, in and out, up and down. He felt the moment about to come in one great sky-blazing blast.
"Oh... my... darling!" she gasped, straining up in a wild arch. The steaming, boiling, bubbling, bubbling stream was about to split his balls... building up a mighty steam to rend him asunder. She could feel her belly lurch. She was almost there... with one mind-splitting scream.
"Ta-a-ake meeee. Take me ho-o-o-ome!" she wailed. He strained and clutched her wildly jerking ass. He found the little kiss-puckered asshole with his finger and shoved it in.
"Aaagh-gh-gh-gh-gh; Oh-h-h-h-h!" as though in agony but then she was bucking and pushing against his finger. When she thrust up she was impaled even deeper on his cock... when she shoved back she was stuck on his fucking finger.
"Harder, harder, harder, darling! I want you!" she sobbed, clutching his finger and cock with cunt and ass.
"Now-w-w-w-w-w-!" he screamed, knowing from her arching, screaming, thrashing body under him that they were cumming together.
"Burst-t-t-t-t-t with me-e-e-e-e-!" he begged. "Now-w-w-w-w-w-!"
"Yess-ss-ss-ss-ss. I'm cummmmmmiiiinnggg!"
"Cummmmmmm-m-m-m-m!"
"Together-er-er-er-er!"
"Baby, baby, baby. Red rockets in air."
"Oh, darling! Great balls of scarlet flowers burst in my head!"
"I know. Oh, God. You're so good!"
"Don't let me go. Hold me. Hold me."
"Beautiful, sweet, Lilli. A real woman."
"Yes! Hold me. Hold me!"
They lay panting, still locked together in the stripe of sunlight that had crept across them. Slowly the spent breaths returned to normal. Lillian sighed in a long breath and stretched luxuriously, her eyes almost closed.
She couldn't remember ever feeling so happily at ease and fulfilled. Fredric rolled slightly away to one side, his nose still in her thick silvery hair, one thigh and one arm still across her. She sighed again in satisfied luxury.
"Now you're telling the truth," he chuckled softly.
"You're laughing at me," she smiled happily. She found she couldn't help smiling. God! What a glorious feeling! She'd never dreamt that she could feel anything like what she was feeling now. The top of the mountain, the perpetual spring that exuded such joy that the whole world was inside her head singing peace peace peace.
What had brought her to this exaltation... to this peak... to this rock man who both tamed and fired her... was so fierce and so gentle. She'd never known anything like it. Gordon's lovemaking seemed so tame... so withdrawn... but she felt that wasn't fair. It had been her fault. She knew that now. Pete's father had been so long ago and he had been so young and inexperienced and selfish. But this! She felt like crying WHY DIDN'T SOMEONE TELL ME!
"I'm not laughing at you at all. It's almost sad that you've never really been aroused before. How much you've missed. Although I'm not a strict Freudian, he did have some pretty cogent theories on the subject," he teased.
Suddenly Lillian sat up and looked down at the naked stranger beside her. The stripe of sunlight still falling across them revealed his now limp penis but she could see it in her mind's eye as it had been a few minutes ago... an enormous rock-hard pulsing blue-veined monster that had rammed her like a cannon. She saw the black pubic hairs curling at the base, the now flaccid testicles, the well-muscled belly and hard thighs.
"Now, the doctor suggests...." he laughed and reached up to weigh one heavy globular breast in his palm.
Her thin skin felt scraped and raw now at his touch, her breast sore and tender. The doctor suggests! She was a patient! He'd been prescribing! Healing her illness! She could hardly believe her ears. My God! What was he... a public stud who mounted rich women patients for a fee! She'd heard about doctors like this... who exploited lonely women and used them like whores, used them and then charged them for it! How naive and stupid she'd been. Letting herself be trapped by this suave persuasive naked man who leered at her now, his hand gently bouncing her breast. She could feel her own moisture and his, spilling out of her now.
His semen sliding out of her very insides onto the fur coverlet. Even now her breast was responding to his touch and her clitoris twitched faintly in echo.
No! Lillian Morgan was not going to be made a fool of again. The doctor suggests indeed! She was not going to wait around to be ---- again. The painful word would not pronounce itself in her head. She must have been mad! Completely mad!
"You see. The guilt is beginning to gnaw at you again. I can see it in your face."
How did he know? Was she so transparent? Did her naked body expose her mind to view, too? Frantically, she sought out her clothes with her eyes. Her skirt and pantyhose were still crumpled in front of the sofa, her shredded blouse and bra wadded in a corner of the couch.
Her only thought now was to cover herself and get out of here before he raped her again. No, not raped, she corrected herself. She'd participated willingly. The very memory of the words she'd said, the screaming orgasm that had shaken her as she'd never been shaken before. My God, he must have brainwashed her.
She ran to her skirt and pulled it on with shaking fingers. The blouse gaped where it was torn over her breast. Furiously she stuffed the torn bra and pantyhose in her bag, and, head down, headed for the door to get her jacket.
Fredric blocked her way. He was standing in front of the door now in a rich dark red brocade robe, his glasses back on and looking professional except for his obscene black hairs showing on his chest in the V of his robe.
"I'll send you a check in the morning." All her cold fury poured into her words.
"You'll do no such thing," he announced calmly, his hands gripping her shoulders. "Listen to me." He shook her gently. "I do not have intercourse with patients normally. Yes, I am a doctor. You came to me as a patient. I intend to help you and your son. But what just happened has nothing to do with that. You're a beautiful desirable woman. I wanted you and you wanted me. We made love. We had a beautiful time. We hurt no one and we helped and cared for each other. There's nothing to feel guilty about... nothing!" He shook her again, searching her face earnestly.
"Oh, I could give you all the clinical phrases for the things I've learned about you... and I'll admit I couldn't have been sure of some of them in a hundred office visits. But I did not make love to you just in order to find those things out. I wanted you... as a man wants a woman... not as a doctor who wants to study a patient! Are you listening?"
His hands were biting into her arms and his eyes were probing her face. She felt limp, exhausted and terribly confused. All her resolve and fury and shame were beginning to fade. She, Lillian Morgan, who'd built a fashion empire with her bare hands, felt like a small child when he spoke to her and touched her... a small uncertain child. All child. All her defenses crumbled.
Why this man? There'd been so many men through the years who'd tried and they'd all run scared at her imperiousness, her business acumen, her single-mindedness about her career. Why was she suddenly so vulnerable? She didn't know. She didn't have any answers. Her brain felt numb.
"I've never done anything like this before," she managed to mumble.
"My dear child. Of course you haven't. That's obvious." He folded her to him closely. "You were a sheltered little poor girl who found herself with a baby too soon. So you shut out the world and made yourself into a sheltered little rich girl... and it hasn't solved a thing, has it? But we will solve it. You'll see."
"Please take me home," she whispered... in a soft very tired voice.
"Right away," he promised.
CHAPTER TWO
"You make all the right gestures so naturally," Yvonne smiled at Pete when he climbed in her little Porsche beside her, having seated her safely in the driver's seat. "I like that in a man."
"Right schools," he grumbled sarcastically, but secretly he was pleased. No one had ever implied he was a man as naturally as she just had. No talking down to him, no patronizing. He had to admit he couldn't find a thing wrong with Dr. Herndon or his beautiful assistant, Dr. Monteaux, though he'd been dead set against the whole thing. He didn't feel like a fumbling, inept, wrongheaded, idiot juvenile with them, which was the way he felt most of the time.
Particularly when his mother had married Gordon. God, he'd felt like a part of the furniture... not even that.
Chairs were useful and had a function. He hadn't been able to stand the sight of that man. He was everything Pete felt that he was not... mature, handsome, successful, witty, intellectual, sexy, athletic. Pete couldn't think of a single asset Gordon didn't have... including Lillian. Well, Gordon didn't have her now but it was probably only a matter of time before she ran back to him. He'd be alone again. Agonizingly alone.
"I know I promised to show you around town but I get the feeling maybe you'd just as soon leave that for another day."
Pete looked at the beautiful girl beside him... so close beside him in the luxurious little car. He could smell her perfume, a clean light flowery smell.
"You're the doctor."
"Well, yes, in a way," she giggled. "But I don't feel like one most of the time. You know... it's a little cool for the beach. Shall we go to my place instead? Have a beer and a swim in the pool? I'm not a very good swimmer... but those shoulders of yours tell me you are. Maybe you can teach me a few things. Sound okay?" Her green eyes sparkled, little flecks of gold chasing around the irises like darting goldfish.
"Yeah. Great," he answered laconically. He couldn't figure this Yvonne. She was so beautiful he couldn't take his eyes off her. Technicolor could never do her justice. And she didn't act like a frigging schoolmarm... no bustling efficiency, no stern importer of information, no telling you what to do every minute. She was easy and soft and girly and bubbly and sweet... yet she was a doctor. He couldn't figure it.
He was still trying when she turned the little car into her driveway high above the Pacific in Carmel Highlands. They'd twisted and turned their way up from the Inn, for the road wound its way up the mountain in a frenzy of hairpin blind curves, through tall forests, past quaint houses tucked into hillsides.
An hour later he wasn't even trying to figure this luscious chick. He didn't really care whether she was a doctor or not. All he knew was he'd never felt so terrific in his life. This was living! For the first time in his life he was alive and not just existing.
He stretched luxuriously on the wide canvas striped lounge by the pool. His muscles were wonderfully tired but relaxed. God, it felt good to swim again... really swim! To swim with someone. With Yvonne. At school he'd avoided all the team stuff, swimming only when the other guys weren't using the pool. He hadn't realized 'til now, having a comparison, how good he was.
And what a pool! Pete opened his eyes lazily. A pool right in the living room! The house and deck were one with the pool, set like a giant sunken wine keg, half of it open to the sky with deck surrounding it and half of it under the roof of the living room. Glass sliced across the middle of it where the roof joists defined the house but slid completely away and disappeared into the thick side walls at a touch. God, what a house!
God, what a girl! Pete watched Yvonne coming toward him carrying a tray. She padded barefoot in her wet blue jersey bikini that clung precariously to her luscious full-pointed breasts and rounded hips and mound.
The small silken triangles were like small birds about to fly away and leave her bare. Her walk was slow and undulating... each step raised a hip provocatively and her breasts jiggled tantalizingly, almost escaping the blue silk entirely. Her legs were slim and rounded and worked like scissored blades, their hinges joined in her cunt. The little strip of wet cloth was so skimpy Pete could even see a couple of red hairs creeping out where her cunt was. God! Either she was going to have to cover all that glory up or he was going to have to get out of here. He crossed his long legs self-consciously to try and hide his burgeoning cock that was swelling in the brief navy trunks Yvonne had lent him. He tore his eyes away from her advancing figure to look frantically for a towel to throw across his lap, but they were on the other side of the pool.
She was right beside him now. She leaned down, her breasts almost tumbling out, holding out a tray for him to select a sandwich.
"Like a bite?" she smiled.
Pete looked up and swallowed. One big beautiful breast was just above his jaw. He had only to reach up and bite that beautiful almost bare tit. Almost unconsciously he lifted his head when his hand reached for half a sandwich on the tray. His nose hit her nipple and he pulled back, a reflex action. My God! What was he doing? Suddenly he was furious that he didn't know. He'd never even kissed a girl... much less... !
"Oh, Pete." She caught his head with her free hand and crushed it to her barely covered breast, though somehow Pete felt it was his idea. Suddenly he was smothered in a delectable female breast. A round, high, firm breast. He could smell the damp skin of her mixed with the pool water and some perfume that made him want to devour her whole. Instinctively his mouth closed on the jersey-covered nipple that hardened instantly to a rigid bud. One hand found her other breast and squeezed that delicious ripened fruit. Dimly he was aware that she set the tray down on the glass table and then she slid onto his lap.
"Oh, Pete," she breathed again and pulled his face from her breast to her mouth. He was holding and kissing this beautiful creature, straining that soft body into his and drinking deep at the fountain of her mouth.
Her little tongue darted in and out and then he plunged his into the pink cavern of hers. God, if this was kissing, he was never going to have enough.
Between kisses he sneaked looks at the creamy thighs squeezed together in a V of blue silk that covered that little red-haired cunt. The creamy mounds of her globed breasts were spilling almost completely out of the silk. As he thrust his tongue deeper in her faintly moaning mouth, his hand dipped in to cup her naked white heavily full breast and the nipple was a hot hard little bud of desire.
Pete could feel his own breath coming in hot ragged pants through his nostrils like steam building up in a huge engine. She nibbled and ate his tongue and swirled her little pink tongue around his and then sucked his tongue deep into her throat. Instinct as old as the ages made his hand squeeze and knead her beautiful breasts, firm bounteous breasts, then thumb and pinch the nipples to hard little flaming ruby tips, pointed and protuberant, made for sucking.
Christ! He was going out of his mind! He'd only held a beautiful naked woman in the tortured release of wet dreams that had become the constant and automatic companion to sleep. But never... never had he held the warm white silk of a real woman pulsing under his own hands.
His loins were on fire. He could feel the caged, snarling, swollen lion of his cock caught and bound in his trunks in a great enormous bulge right under her damp little ass that sat in his lap. She ground her hips down on it in little teasing circles and he thought he was going to shoot off right in his damn trunks.
Suddenly she pulled away and wriggled up to stand beside him.
"Please, Yvonne. Don't leave me," he begged hoarsely, his hands sliding down her as she stood up and then moved away.
"I'm not, silly," she giggled. "I'm getting comfortably au naturel." One hand reached behind her and pulled the neck string of her bra. Both luscious breasts popped free and stood out to eye him with rosy nipples. Then the back string went and she dropped the offending bra, never taking her eyes from his face. She was whitely, rosily, roundly bare except for the blue jersey triangle clinging to her loins.
"You look hungry, darling," she whispered, offering up those breasts with her hands. He reached for her but she slipped away, deftly twirling.
"Not quite yet," she said huskily. She stood a little distance and slowly pulled the side strings of her bikini bottom, pulling it up between her legs tantalizingly, slowly, until the crisp red triangle of pubic hair was fully exposed to his lusting eyes. Triumphantly she flung the cloth away and stood smiling like a warm flesh goddess, a rosy marble vision.
Pete devoured her with his eyes until he thought he was going to do something silly like cry. He'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
She turned and twisted in a little pirouette so he could see every inviting, delectable inch of her naked lush beauty. Then she struck a pose like a model in a fashion magazine except that she was displaying only her own incredibly lovely satin body.
Suddenly she went into a little dance like in a movie, her hips undulating a slow rhythm in time to her sliding feet. She circled and dipped, first shoulders and breasts shaking and jiggling, then hips and pelvis grinding in a snaking motion. Then her belly was writhing in the obvious and obscene motions of a belly dancer.
Jesus! Pete felt as if he were fucking her with his eyes. He could feel his own cock seeping dangerously.
What would he do if he shot off now?
Just as suddenly she stopped and stood with her legs spread lewdly apart and he could see the sparkling tiny drops of her moisture on the red pubic hair and the gorged pink slit. Her thighs and pelvis arched in little spasms as she held her perfect peach-nippled breasts to him like priceless gifts.
"Come here and fuck me," she whispered huskily, cunt and breasts thrust out to him in lascivious spasms, her thighs quivering in licentious invitation.
Instantly he was on his feet and crushing that beautiful body to him in a lock from mouth to knees. She kissed him back hungrily and held him. He could feel her beautiful breasts crushed against his bare chest and his cock buried against her lovely white body. Oh God!
"Wait, darling," and she pulled back. "I want to see that beautiful strong cock of yours." Her little white hands tugged at his damp trunks and he helped her. At last they had the damn things off.
"Oh, darling," she breathed. "You're beautiful." Pete blushed in spite of himself. It just hadn't occurred to him that she could think his penis beautiful. It was somehow embarrassing that she did. God, it was so achingly blood-gorged it stood out like a stallion rod... huge and mighty. Her hands reached out and stroked it very, very gently from the glans to the base. Those little white hands looked so tiny caressing his enormous rod that quivered in joy at her touch. Oh God, don't ever let her stop. His hips thrust forward against her hands 'til his cock touched her satin belly.
God. All he wanted was to impale his shaft in that red-haired box 'til he died in exquisite agony. She was so beautiful and small and adorable. He mustn't hurt her but how could he have her without hurting her? Pete couldn't imagine how his pulsing great rod could stab that lovely little cunt without hurting. He'd rip her in two if he tried.
Yvonne's arms came up and went around him and he clutched the white warm silk of her 'til he thought his cock was going to spurt up between them.
"Take me to the couch, darling," she whispered and stood on tiptoe. He swung her up in his arms and carried her the few steps to the wide-striped lounge. Oh God, she was so light and so little. What was he going to do?
Yvonne pulled him down beside her on the couch and enveloped him in kisses. "First... canapes...." She laughed and slid up to dangle the prize globes of her breasts over his mouth. "Oh-h-h-h-h," she moaned as he bit the rosy tips and then sucked and tongued them. She wasn't hurt, he exulted and sucked harder, his mouth full of first one beautiful tit and then the other. "Yess, darling, yessssss," she hissed. His hands were sliding over her back and round buttocks and down her legs as far as he could reach. The smooth skin under his hands warmed and glowed.
Then he turned, forcing her down on her back beside him with his mouth still sucking one breast. She moved his head to hers and kissed him deeply... their tongues slathering and sucking and dueling. One of her hands caught Pete's big hand and moved it slowly down her belly to the crisp hairs of her cunt. She took his finger and guided it to her slippery, silky vaginal lips. "God," he groaned deep in his throat. She was so warm and waiting and wet.
His balls were shot with fire and he was terrified they were going to let loose and shoot his load any second.
Pete's hand had a life of its own... parting the red lips and exploring the infinitely sweet, slippery cunt that arched up to his fingers. Amazingly, he found his fingers going in with ease. Her lubricating secretions had wet his way. But his fingers weren't as big as his huge, jerking rod. He still couldn't imagine how he could get it in... but he had to. He had to... had to...
"Oh, yes, Pete, darling. Yess," she moaned and writhed beneath his hand, arching her pelvis 'til his finger found the erect little clitoris. At the same time her hand closed on his pole and slid back and forth, then teased the little slit until it was so wet he thought he was going to scream at the ecstasy.
Time fell away. His mother, Gordon, his loneliness. All Pete knew was the aching, beautiful sweet rapture that was her body and his.
She pulled him onto her and he felt her whole naked body beneath him. He tried to ease his weight on elbows and knees but she only grunted and pulled him down to her. "Pete... baby... you're ready, darling. I want you inside me. Take me. Take me."
Her hand pushed his great throbbing penis to the swollen lips... sliding it on the moist, pulsing clit. "Oh, God," he groaned, "I'm going to cum."
"Yesss, darling," she breathed. "You're going to fuck me and fuck me and fuck me. We're going to cum and cum and cum!"
Her head was thrashing and her pelvis arched, pushing up to him. That wet, slippery, beautiful cunt was open and waiting. He had only to plunge it in... deep into the bowels of heaven.
"Now!" she screamed softly. "Now! Fuck, Pete! Fuck!"
He lifted and plunged and it went down to the hilt, blade into body... steel into flesh... sword into earth.
"God-od-od-oood," he screamed.
"Agh-gh-gh-gh," she groaned and choked in her mouth as though his sword had split her asunder. She writhed, impaled in an agonizing ecstasy that lifted her hips completely off the couch, lifting him with her.
He was fucking! For the first time! He was fucking! In and out of that pulsing, gorgeous, hot, velvet sucking cunt that grasped his cock and sucked it with clasping walls.
"Load me. Fill me... gush me, Pete. Pete. Pete!" She bucked and arched like a wild animal. Her hands dug his bare ass, shoving him in further and further. Pete could feel his prick hit bottom against her cervix.
"Baby... ba-a-a-by," he groaned. "I'm going to cummmmmmmmmmmmm!" The load in his balls was churning and steaming, ready to shoot.
"Yes-s-s-s-s. We're going to blast the world apart. My beautiful great man who fucks so goo-o-o-o-o-o-d."
Pete felt his load beginning to split his balls. His god-damned head was going to split too. He knew it. He was going to die right here and now. Die in this heaven and live forever.
She was climbing his pole and he was crashing to meet her. The explosion was coming... coming... cumming... cumming!
"Now-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w!" she screamed.
"Go-od-od-od-ooo-ooooo-od!" he screamed with her... blasting off the whole fucking planet. They ignited and Pete felt the mighty blast roar through his penis deep in her belly to the soaring sky... going on and... on... and... on to infinity. He was dying... dying... dying in a celestial rocketing glowing exploding star-shot universe. Great balls of light exploded in his head and he was dying so good... so good.
"Pete... Pete... Pete... I'm still cumming... I can't stop... I can't stop!"
"Cum... cum... cum...." he chanted. "Don't stop, baby. Cum again and again."
He was eased from that shooting universe to the warm spent enclosing grave of her arms and he slept.
Pete woke on his face, aware of a warm soft body cushioning him. He didn't know how long he'd drifted off... and didn't care. He only knew he felt as if he'd been changed, purified, purged and was now whole. A man! A real man!
He kissed the white neck where his mouth nestled and settled his arms to a new position... holding Yvonne's sweet little round ass.
"Darling," she said drowsily.
"Mm-m-m-m?"
"I have to wee."
"So do I but I don't want to move."
She pushed her hands against his chest hard, laughing, "But I'll wet the bed if you don't move."
"I'd rather stay here and fuck again."
"We will... but right now I have to wee. Come on, Pete, let me up."
"When?"
"When what?"
"Fuck again."
"As soon as you let me go to the bathroom!"
"Can you pee fast?"
"The fastest in the West," she laughed. "Now move, before I let you have it." She held one tiny fist up to him threateningly. He kissed it, then her nose, both cheeks and her mouth in a final salute.
"Okay," he laughed, moving off her splayed body. "One fast pee and then we fuck."
"You're awful," she giggled, sliding away and padding across the room, her tight little ass wiggling bare and enticingly.
CHAPTER THREE
Pete flung himself in the pool and swam hard straight across, then diagonally and then around. In and up, out and down he swam in joyous cavortings, exulting in the feel of the water all over his nakedness. Lord, he felt good!
In a few short hours his life had changed forever. He'd become a man, a real man. He'd had a woman, a beautiful woman, his woman and he was never going to let her go. She was going to be his forever. Jesus!
He felt good! The world was his and it was beautiful!
At last he grew tired and pulled himself out over the edge of the pool to dry. Whistling, he toweled vigorously and then tucked the towel around his hips. Where was Yvonne? She could have peed an ocean by now.
Somewhere he heard a phone ring and the soft musical voice of Yvonne answering.
Her beauty hit him anew as she came into the living room. She simply wasn't real. But she was and she was his. She had on a diaphanous white thing that reached to her feet... so sheer he could see the veiled red pubic hair and pink nipples. It was split to the waist and caught there with a heavy gold cord.
She was carrying the telephone in her hand, reeling the long cord away from her feet. As she turned he saw that her white robe was split up the sides almost to the armpits and one long satiny leg and hip were revealed.
"Yes, he's here, Mrs. Morgan. Would you like to speak with him?"
Pete motioned frantically. God, he didn't want to talk to his mother at a time like this. It was just his luck, though. He'd just had his first piece of ass and his mother calls! Christ! He should have known she'd be checking up on him... just like when he was eight. Well, god damn it, he wasn't eight now.
Yvonne held the phone out to him. He wanted to grab the thing and bang it down... but he didn't.
"Yeah?"
"Pete, are you all right?"
"Yeah. Sure."
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes, I'm sure!"
"I've been worried about you. What are you doing, I mean... well, there. I've called all over... I mean...."
"Swimming."
"Oh, I thought... well, I thought you'd be in Dr. Monteaux's office. It seems a strange place to get your therapy started."
Therapy. For the last few hours Pete had completely forgotten why he was to see Yvonne in the first place.
Therapy! God, she was a doctor. Had she been fucking for therapy? A muscle clamped in his jaw.
"Pete. I think you should come home now." She sounded imperious again... like do as you're told. He could feel the old fury rushing back... and yet... ? Supposing Yvonne had been giving him therapy? The blood rushed to his face in an agony of embarrassment. God, she'd probably been laughing at him the whole time.
Was she just a fancy slut with a Dr. to her name? Shit! He didn't care. He'd fucked!
His mother talked on and Pete's head was spinning, trying to sort out the events and thoughts that were coming too fast. Dimly he was aware of Yvonne setting a small table before the fireplace but she listened to his end of the conversation frankly. Occasionally she looked up and frowned faintly.
"Pete. I want you to come home. I'm worried to death about you. This Dr. Herndon and Dr. Monteaux... I'm not sure they're genuine. I think we'd better investigate them more thoroughly before we commit ourselves."
"Pete! Come home at once!" Her voice carried through the phone clear across the room. Pete was sure Yvonne had heard, and she had. Yvonne looked at him and shook her curls firmly. Then she curled up on the couch and looked at him with such sweetness and kindness and sympathy that he felt he'd been a fool to doubt her for one moment.
"No, mother," he said calmly. "I'm fine and I'll be home later." He put the receiver back gently on the hook and walked over to Yvonne with a feeling of having reached another milestone in this incredible day.
"I'm proud of you," she said quietly. "You stood on your own two feet. Your mother'll be furious for a while but she'll get over it. This Oedipal syndrome can be so insidious."
"Is that what you're doing?" he couldn't help asking sarcastically. "Curing my Oedipal syndrome?"
"Eventually," she dimpled up at him. "Right now I'm cooking you a steak and some artichoke hearts and there's sour dough bread and a good Cabernet Savignon. In fact, I'd better check it. I mustn't burn the first real meal I've ever cooked for you!"
He followed her into the kitchen that had so much glass that he felt the trees and flowers were on the inside.
There was an old-fashioned round oak table with comfortable high-backed chairs and a rosy brick floor.
Copper pots and utensils hung from the blackened beams. There was even a fireplace in a corner and deep gingham armchairs. Pete had been around enough to know that this kind of comfort and easy charm didn't come cheap.
He watched her bustle around the kitchen, humming faintly, as busy and efficient as a little wife. Seemingly she was unperturbed by her strange sheer floating garment that barely concealed anything. You'd have thought she was in a crisp dress with an apron.
In the course of her preparations she handed him an icy martini and toasted gravely, "To Frogs and Princes."
A short while later they were dining by candlelight on the early dinner she'd prepared in front of a huge fire.
Pete ate ravenously. Food had never tasted so good... even the artichoke hearts which normally he wouldn't touch. He talked eagerly as he ate, something that was quite foreign to the old Pete. She listened and talked just as eagerly by turns.
"You've been wondering about this house. It's simple, really. My very rich, old bachelor uncle wanted to give me a coming out party. The whole debutante thing. Naturally, this was supposed to bring me to my senses about being a doctor. The right young man... etc., was supposed to make me forget the doctor nonsense.
But, finally I talked him into giving me this house instead... something I really wanted and would use."
"What I really want is you," Pete said softly. Her dancing green eyes sobered and looked at him searchingly.
Then slowly she rolled the table away from the fire and came and sat at his feet. The white garment gaped over her thrusting young breasts and the S curve her body made as she curled at his feet sent a sudden stab through his loins. She leaned her head against his knee and his hand rubbed the soft red curls at the nape of her neck.
"I'm right here," she whispered. His hands slid down her throat to her insistent breasts and cupped their heaviness. He still couldn't believe he, Pete Morgan, could do such a thing.
"Yvonne. Yvonne."
"Mm-mm-mm," she approved. His chair thudded softly backward on the thick carpet and he joined her on the floor.
"I want to look at you," he whispered fiercely against her lips, his hands sliding up and down her from toes to throat. He jerked the heavy gold cord and she was sitting in a pool of sheer white silk, head thrown back and breasts pointing. The firelight and two guttering candles from the supper table shadowed and accentuated every curve. Pete drew his breath in sharply at the sight of her naked white loveliness. His prick was poling up under the towel he still wore. He felt he could never look enough. She was all the visions that had come to him in the night that could only end in semen-emitting wet dreams. But he wasn't a boy any more with only wet dreams to comfort him. She was here, alive and warm and pink and white and his. He'd fucked her beautiful little pink pussy over and over this afternoon and he was going to again.
He reached for her but she rolled lightly away and strode over to the huge armoire against the wall.
"Yvonne," he complained.
"Sh-h-h," she soothed. "I'll be right there. Just want to put some music on. A little mood music."
He grinned in appreciation. She knew how to do everything right. The soft strains of the Bolero filled the room... starting slowly with a faint insistent beat. She started slowly back across the room, her hips swaying in time to the music and thrust forward in the stance of a bullfighter... as though an invisible bull was going to graze her pubic bone. Her breasts winked their pink eyes at him in the firelight. Pete glanced down at his penis. It was holding the towel up already so he jerked the cloth away and his cock sprang up to a full right angle, looking as big as a bull's.
"Come here," he ordered.
"I am." She stopped first at the table where they had eaten and poured a glass of champagne. Christ! What was she dawdling for? He wanted her now! Couldn't she see he was ready? God, was he ready! He almost leaped up to grab her but something in her face stopped him. She took a sip of champagne and then walked slowly toward him... holding the glass to him in a toast.
She stopped in front of him where the firelight picked out all the soft womanly satin curves of her beautiful body. Slowly she turned her glass and dribbled champagne on first one breast and then the other. The droplets caught on her nipples and glistened. Then she lowered the glass and let the faintly yellow green liquid spill on her flat white belly and dribble down to her red pubic hair and into her slit. Christ! She was going to drive him crazy! He wanted to lick those bright drops... every one of them!
Yvonne leaned over then and poured the last of the champagne over his rigid cock that was pulsating and pointing toward the ceiling. It was icy on his hot prick and it shuddered in protest. She dropped on her knees in front of Pete then and lowered her head to lick the champagne off his prick. "God-od-od!" he moaned.
He'd never felt anything in his life to equal the incredible sensation of her little pink tongue on his rod. She was licking it and kissing it and stroking it with her tongue. His hips lunged forward involuntarily to get closer.
Suddenly she opened her red lips and took the tip in her mouth and sucked on it as though it were a penny candy. Her tongue flicked into the tiny slit and teased it. Christ! He couldn't stand much of this! It was too excruciatingly exquisite. "Oh-hh-hh-hh," he moaned softly. She took her mouth away and grinned... then plunged her mouth way down his shaft and took almost all of it. "Oh, baby," he gritted between clenched teeth. She began fucking his cock then... up and down, in and out of her beautiful red mouth, her curly head bobbing up and down. Her little white hands came out to cup and cradle his balls and she was sucking hard on his cock. Pete was trembling all over. God! He'd cum in her beautiful mouth if she didn't stop!
Pete grabbed her shoulders and pulled her off his cock and up to his mouth. He crushed her against him and kissed her long and deeply, tasting his own cock fluid for the first time. The thought and the taste drove him wild! He pressed her to him fiercely and lay back with her on top of him. The weight of her pressed his prick between them and her breasts hardened even though mashed against his chest.
"You beautiful adorable woman," he breathed between kisses, his tongue plunging in her mouth and dueling with her hard little pink tongue. His hand found her round white ass and pressed her to him harder over his steel-hard cock that was pulsing like a star glowing in the night sky.
"You've rubbed all the champagne off me," she breathed. "I thought maybe you'd like to lick it off."
For answer he tumbled her over on her back and took one deep pink nipple in his teeth. "Agh-agh-agh-gh- gh-gh-hh," she moaned, grinding her pelvis involuntarily and splaying her legs wide open. His tongue flicked out and licked the whole surface of one breast while his hand squeezed and rubbed the other to an upright bud. Moving to the other breast he caught a glimpse of the saliva-wet breast he'd just sucked. It gleamed like rain-drenched marble in the firelight. "I thought you'd like to lick it off," she'd said. Did she mean her little hair-fringed petaled pussy too? God, he wanted to but he knew that was supposed to be unnatural or something. Hell, it hadn't felt unnatural when she'd lowered her beautiful head and sucked on his cock. It had felt like the whole fucking world was beautiful and right and good. He'd almost gone out of his fucking mind with joy. Why shouldn't it feel the same to her if he sucked her? Besides, he wanted to. Oh, God, how he wanted to!
Gradually he worked his mouth down her belly until he was between her legs. He pushed her legs wider apart and looked at her delectable pussy open to him. The red hair curled around the gorged lips and he could see her lubrications had wet the whole surface with a silky liquid. He spread the lips of her cunt with both hands, gently starting at the top and working down. She was oozing and he could see the little clitoris, at attention, erect as a little prick.
His tongue shot out and licked her from asshole to clit and she screamed, "Pete-e-e-e-e-t-t-t-t-e-e!", clutching his head in her hands and clenching her fingers in his hair. God! She loved it! He loved it! His tongue licked her slippery delicious wet cunt... the lips, the cavern, the clitoris, with increasing efficiency.
Yvonne's hips ground up to meet him as he slavered and sucked and fucked with his tongue the first pussy he had ever even seen in the flesh, much less eaten!
"Goo-oo-oo-d," she whimpered, "Oh, God, it's so goo-o-o-od! Don't stop. Don't stop. Oh, don't ever stop!"
The music was building in the room as the volume and the beat slowly gathered. The churning in Pete's loins seemed to build in time to it.
Yvonne was pushing his face into her sopping cunt that threatened to suck his whole head into her. The smell and the taste of her, frantic with excitement, made him want to suck her forever. This was why adults were so secretive about fucking. It was too god-damned good! He'd been ready for this four years ago but he was sure as hell going to make up for lost time now.
"Mmm-mm-mm-mm!" He smacked his lips and looked at Yvonne with a dripping chin and face. "You want some more, baby," he grinned and slid up onto her to plunge his cunt-wet tongue in her mouth so she could taste her own desire.
"Gogg-gh-gh-gh," she moaned, her nails digging his back, her arms and hands gripping him. When he pulled back, her eyes were glazed, her face distorted in lust.
"I want to suck you too... at the same time. Put that bull cock of yours in my mouth, baby, and put your face back in my pussy."
Shivers ran up and down his spine at the vision of what she had suggested. Oh Christ! He had to have it that way... just that way!
He slid off onto his back on the deep carpet and slowly Yvonne crept over him on all fours and then slowly she settled on top and took his cock in her wet lips. Her sopping cunt was just over his face and he pulled her ass down so he could lick the whole of her lascivious pussy, long and leisurely.
The feel of the velvety cavern of her mouth on his hot hard cock was almost too much ecstasy to bear. He plunged his tongue into her wet cunt and this doubled his bliss.
The music was pounding the walls now in a blinding rhythm that he could feel in vibrations through the thick carpet. He'd stopped asking questions, stopped worrying about who he was, what his mother would say, giving himself up wholly to this pagan, animalistic, hedonistic rapture.
CHAPTER FOUR
"But how do you tell the princes from the frogs?" Lillian laughed.
"Easy. The frogs never try anything. They just dream about being princes, caught in the prison of their frogness and waiting for the kiss to free them. If they never try anything, they never do anything... they're frogs. If they try... even though they fail... they're princes in disguise," Fredric concluded, picking up his martini and toasting her with his eyes.
She smiled uncertainly, "I begin to sound dangerously like a lady frog." His hand slid over her camel-skirted thigh to catch her hand in her lap and squeeze it. She looked up guiltily as though the whole bar could see his gesture though she knew the long white tablecloths put on for the luncheon crowd made it impossible.
"No, my dear Lillian, this morning you ceased being a frog." She blushed above the fur collar, suddenly conscious of her naked breasts beneath the buttoned-up suit. He hadn't taken her home as he'd promised but insisted she use his shower to freshen up, assuring her she didn't need a bra or a blouse if she just buttoned her suit higher.
She couldn't believe that she was lunching at the La Playa with this strange magnetic doctor as though nothing had happened since she'd kept an appointment for her son at nine o'clock this morning.
But so much had happened in the past four hours she didn't think she'd ever be able to sort it out. With Fredric, crazy as it was, it made sense. But what would happen when she had to face Pete... and Gordon?
She'd heard about women who suddenly flipped and for no apparent reason became wanton and lust- crazed. She knew guiltily that she had never been so abandoned, so wild, so passionate... and legally, now, an adulteress!
Even as she ate and worried, she felt little prickles of warm sensation radiate through her body from the hand Fredric still imprisoned in her lap. It was as though her one live functioning organ was that hand he caressed and turned and squeezed and twined and stroked. The rest of her was warming to that one connection to life.
It was better when I was a lady frog, she wanted to cry out. At least she'd been spared the consuming guilt and the awful questions she was now asking herself.
Sensing her wave of guilt and uncertainty, Fredric removed his hand and applied himself to lunch. His charm was really quite overwhelming. He regaled her with jokes and stories about his profession 'til she was feeling almost her usual calm self again. By the time they pulled up in front of her newly rented house she was even laughing gaily.
Lillian unlocked the door and was pleased anew with her handiwork on this alien house, so different from her New York apartment. Wide casement windows looked out on the sea below, a long-cushioned window seat just under them. The sun had come out finally and streamed onto the orange Spanish rug she took everywhere and picked up the gleam of silk on the Louis IV chair. The few things she'd brought made a home from a furnished house that had had little charm. It had taken her four days of hard scrubbing and the help of a cleaning woman to even get the grime out of the place. But now it looked airy and inviting.
"It is only what I expected of you," Fredric said, spreading his arms to indicate his admiration of the room.
"Most of the furniture was here. I only brought a few of my things because I'd no idea how long Pete's treatment would take. I rented it sight unseen through a realtor, so it isn't much."
Fredric walked over to her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "Pete's treatment will take much longer if you keep apologizing and start getting froggy."
"What does that mean?" Her old imperiousness crept out.
"It means... let people take you as you are. No apologies or justifications needed. Understand?" He tilted her chin up and looked deeply into her eyes.
Lillian looked away in confusion. "I wonder where Pete is, by the way? It's been hours since he left with your assistant. Are they still at the office?"
"I've no idea. I never question Dr. Monteaux about her methods. She does excellent work. I simply accept that. I suggest you do the same," he grinned engagingly.
"I don't want to go to work at all this afternoon but I have to," pulling her close and whispering against her hair. "Dinner? Pick you up at 6:30?"
Lillian felt her knees weaken. What was the matter with her? She had absolutely no control whatsoever when she was with this man. Whatever he said do... she did. Whatever he said she accepted as gospel.
She'd come to help Pete and here she was in the doctor's arms. Was she losing her mind entirely? His arms around her now, holding her close against him, his mouth at her temple... she felt her whole traitorous body tingle and warm. My God, if she didn't get him out of here soon she'd find herself splayed out under him moaning. The picture of this morning's session flashed across her mind. She gathered her will against the onslaught of her senses and pushed away.
"I'd better not. I am worried about Pete and I don't know when he'll be home or what kind of mood he'll be in." Fredric fixed her with a skeptical glance.
"I know," she laughed, "you've explained all that but... I'd better call you later in the afternoon."
"Very well," he said quietly, "I'll wait for your call."
When he was gone Lillian found herself feeling cold and empty. She frowned at the pile of work from her New York office. Thick manilla envelopes covered her desk top, sketches that needed approval, reports from the branches, personnel changes, legal documents. It made her head ache to look at it.
If she postponed it, though, tomorrow's mail would make the stack even higher and more insurmountable.
Impatiently she flung off her suit as she walked to the bedroom, stepped out of her shoes and stripped off her pantyhose. She showered again quickly, avoiding looking at her body, and pulled on a turtleneck and some knit bellbottoms. Now a pot of tea. She made it and returned to the living room and the accusing stack of envelopes.
Once she was immersed in it the time sped by. It had always been this way with her work. The thought occurred again that maybe it wasn't altruism toward Pete that had propelled her all these years but self- interest and self-indulgence. And maybe Fredric was right... she'd shielded herself from the world with that work. What was it he'd called her... a sheltered little rich girl. Maybe it was time she came out from that barrier.
At four-thirty she'd finished, amazed that the afternoon had slipped away so fast. Four-thirty! Where was Pete? The more she thought about it, the more disturbed she was. He'd been with that Monteaux girl all day.
What could they have done or talked about?
She could imagine Pete talking on and on about how he hated Gordon. She could hear him blaming her for all his own shortcomings. Isn't that what people did in psychiatric treatment... found crutches for their own inadequacies? Usually by blaming their own mother or father. Examining the slightest hurt or disappointment 'til it became inflamed as a toothache.
Was that what Pete was doing now? Probing old hurts, relating all the gory details about being left at schools he hated while Mother worked. But she'd brought him here for psychiatric care. You're nuts, she told herself. Now that you've got him to the doctor you don't want him to go.
Lillian paced up and down, going over the events of the past few hours. Pete had looked interested and alive for the first time in ages when he'd followed that Monteaux girl out of Herndon's office. Supposing her own "treatment" at Fredric's hands was what Pete was being given by that red-haired vixen?
In the spotless blue and white kitchen Lillian made herself a stiff drink and carried it back to the living room.
She sipped it and stared at the phone... trying to reason with herself.
After all, she'd come thousands of miles to get help for Pete and here she was trying to interfere the first day. She hired experts all the time and had never had any trouble leaving them to do their work in peace before.
She tried to call on her own good business head but it was no use... she only became more hopelessly confused. Finally she decided it couldn't do any harm to call and ask what time she could expect Pete for dinner. That was a legitimate excuse, she told herself, knowing how lame it was... but she couldn't seem to stop herself.
When she put down the phone she was shaking. How dare Pete talk to her that way!
Think, Lillian Morgan, think! You head a pretty large corporation. Certainly you're not going to be hoodwinked by a little red-headed chit who's mesmerized your son. But then she herself had been mesmerized by Fredric Herndon this morning. She'd been hypnotized... there was no other word for it. How else could she have behaved as she had? But she knew that people couldn't be forced under hypnosis to do something they didn't want to do. Face it... you were seduced... and not against your will. Face it... you were laid.
And what was happening to Pete who had no experience, an innocent boy? Was he being seduced or lord knows what?
Well, he was her son and her responsibility. She'd have to go and rescue him and then she'd get them both out of here. There were plenty of other doctors around. So, she'd made a mistake. There was no need to compound it and leave Pete to the mercy of that woman.
Decision made, she threw a coat around her shoulders and tied a scarf over her hair. She was running down the brick walk to the garage when Fredric's red Alfa roared into the driveway.
"Hi," he called gaily. "You didn't call."
Lillian waited until he was right beside her to answer, "I did call Pete at Dr. Monteaux's, however."
"And that's where you were going. You look very angry right now and miserable," he said... again as though he could read her mind.
"Of course, I'm angry. My son's been with that woman all day. He's an innocent boy."
"Babies are innocent, too, but they get erections," he said gently.
"You're infuriating... and disgusting."
"Perhaps. Most people are at one time or another." Lillian felt him grip her shoulders.
"Don't touch me."
He shook her. "Stop this silliness. Listen to me. You're worried crazy right now... complicated by what you feel to be your own guilt. We'll drive up to Yvonne's and see Pete. That's the only thing that's going to reassure you that he's all right."
"No." She was half crying now at her own stupidity that had led her into such a situation. She tried to pull away but he held her fast.
"Now, we'll get in the car, darling, and go see that Pete's all right. You won't trust me yet so we'll have to prove it to you."
Doubt gripped Lillian then. Why did she always doubt her own sense when she was with Fredric? Who was this Svengali who made her feel so foolish and over-emotional and not very capable?
Somehow she found herself in the car with him. He was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief and quieting her and being solicitous and sweet.
"It's all right, darling. Pete's going to be all right and you're going to be all right. You've been locked up in a hard world too long with no one to help you."
She'd never needed any help before. His tweed shoulder felt reassuring under her cheek and yet five minutes ago she'd been furious with him. Never had she vacillated so, her emotions swinging in the wind of his presence. Why? Why? Why? She hadn't even known Fredric yesterday... he'd been only a name to her... a famous name with articles in national magazines about his prodigious success in psychiatry with unusual and unorthodox methods. Was he only using a method on her? She didn't know. She just didn't know.
Half an hour later they were parked on a bluff above the Pacific with the sun going down out there like a giant flaming urn. It was peaceful and Lillian felt more peaceful, too. The drinks Fredric had unpacked from a picnic hamper had helped. The glow was spreading through her stomach.
"I love this place," he mused. "No matter where I go... and I have to travel a lot... I can hardly wait to get back."
"It's so beautiful it doesn't look real."
"But it is real. Sometimes we begin to take ugliness for granted and the beautiful looks alien. Like this morning, for instance. It was beautiful for both of us... but you've had so little of that kind of beauty... it seemed alien to you, bad, immoral. Feelings have to be used, enjoyed... otherwise we cease to feel. That's mostly what's wrong with Pete. He's felt only negative feelings for a long time... he's got to be educated to feel positive things."
Lillian's head rested against the luxurious leather and she listened quietly, trying to decide if Fredric's words were true and sincere or if it was just his deep melodious voice that was seducing her again.
"Right now, you're wondering whether I'm real or not. The picnic basket... the drinks. You wonder... you're suspicious. The simple truth is just what I've told you. I thought it would be fun to surprise you with a picnic for dinner."
"I'm sorry," Lillian smiled. "I have been suspicious... neurotic if you will. But you've made me question so much of my life in just one day that I'm very confused."
"I know, darling. LOOK! There it goes." The orange urn flattened and sank into the sea at the horizon line, leaving a brilliant peach glow in the sky.
He reached for her little silver glass that fitted in the flask and began putting it away.
"Look, we'll run up and check on Pete and then drive down the coast. I want to show you Ramaden Centre."
"Oh, yes. I read about that in Life. Some sort of seminars and sensitivity training, isn't it?"
"Sort of... though sensitivity training is not a phrase I like. Awareness is closer to it. And speaking of awareness, you are very beautiful." His arms went around Lillian before she could protest. In spite of herself her hand crept around his neck. His hard mouth and arms and shoulders felt wonderful. She could feel a tingling of pleasure start faintly as his mouth drank from her deeper. His hands rounded her breasts tenderly and then he tore his mouth away.
"Later... later," he muttered. "Right now we have to go check on your eighteen-year-old baby boy. Right? Right!"
He started the car, shifted, backed, and they roared away down the ribboned highway in the twilight.
CHAPTER FIVE
Both palms of Pete's hands were full of delicious, naked breasts and his mouth full of wet sopping oozing desirable cunt. He sucked and squeezed to the building beat of the music that was roaring in his ears now like the sea. Oh God! It was so so so so good! Never had he dreamed that anything could be so good. His balls were building up a load of steam that was going to shoot his hot cum to the sky and back.
Yvonne was sawing away on his cock like it was ambrosia and Pete felt he must surely be in heaven.
Fucking was indescribably fabulous but sucking was even better. She seemed to know every little ridge and bulge of his penis and balls, licking all of them slavishly. Even his asshole she licked as sweetly as if it had been a particularly succulent sweet.
These little foreign cars were fun, Lillian thought, as she watched Fredric twist the car expertly up the switchback narrow road... up through the darkening forest. She was having qualms now, wondering what Pete would say at her checking up on him. He'd be furious and then sullen. If she wouldn't have looked so terribly foolish she'd have asked Fredric to turn around. The car bore on, the headlights sweeping the houses tucked in the hillsides.
The road widened a little and became straight in the beam of the headlights. Fredric picked up her hand and brought the fingers to his lips as though in silent encouragement. How did he always know what she was thinking? Because people were his business, she supposed. His hand then reached down into the darkened area under the dash and found her foot. Tenderly his hand massaged her ankle and arch and slid up and down her calf. The sympathy seemed to flow from his strong fingers as surely as if he'd said the words.
She was feeling better and his hand was lovely on her foot and leg... as good as her father's had been when she was so little. She'd wake in the night and cry with the growing pains in her legs and he'd rub her and soothe her back to sleep.
If she was being used by Fredric, she reasoned, it was well. He didn't need her money or Pete as a patient.
He was world-famous so one more patient couldn't really mean anything to him, one way or the other.
As the little car turned into a driveway abruptly, Lillian knew they had arrived and she was none too sure she wanted to now. No lights showed anywhere. Fredric helped her out of the car and guided her with his arm around her waist in the settling dark.
As they rounded a wooden baffle that sheltered a small entry garden, Lillian could hear the beat of the music and see a faint glow of light somewhere.
"Let me do the talking," Fredric commanded as they came to a massive carved oak door. She nodded. He knocked several times but no one came. Pete might not be here at all. The music was awfully loud and seemed to be getting even louder.
Fredric turned the knob and pulled her in after him. "They may be in the pool," he said with his mouth to her ear so she could hear him above the din of the music. He pulled her with him down a hallway that edged the perimeter of the house. An abrupt turn and they were in a huge room that had a pool halfway inside. What an incredible house, Lillian thought.
The music was deafening in here. A dim glow of candles flickered at the far side of the room and a fire burned in a massive stone fireplace but the light was totally inadequate in such a huge place.
Lillian was trying hard to see when above the music she heard a high-pitched scream. "Suck me harder, suck me-e hard-e-er, ba-a-a-by." Lillian stopped, frozen in her tracks, her brain not wanting to translate what she thought she'd heard. Fredric bumped her from behind and his arms came around her to steady her.
Then her eyes found a horror she couldn't believe! Two naked bodies were tangled on the deep carpet before the fireplace like two cleaving white animals rutting. She took one glance and her whole world shattered into sharp crystal fragments. She tried to scream, to yell, to blot out what she was witnessing, but the outrageous horror was too great.
She wanted to flee, to run from what her brain told her was an utter impossibility... but yet an all-too-real reality. A monster had been let loose there and was roving and breaking up her known, safe world.
Pete and Yvonne were locked in the age-old embrace of mutual oral manipulation. They were lying completely nude on the thick white carpet in the pulsing firelight, their hands coursing over each other's hot heaving bodies, their mouths and tongues buried in each other's genitals. They squirmed and writhed as though possessed. Lillian could imagine the wet lewd sounds of their mutual sucking though the music drowned it out.
Fredric's arms tightened around Lillian in a hard hold to keep her from falling in shock. He saw Yvonne moaning with abandon as she sucked the large glistening cock sawing between her lips and he saw Pete's wildly bobbing head tear into the tender pink flesh of her young pussy. Fredric felt his own cock harden in his pants as he held the almost fainting Lillian tight against him, her little ass butted right up to him.
Lillian tried to close her eyes to black out the horror, but her eyelids wouldn't work. She remembered how many times Gordon had tried to push his head down on her own genitals and she'd never allowed it. It was pagan and animal lust. How could she bring up a son if she indulged in such filth... and yet here that same son lay in that passionate writhing with that young slut.
Yvonne was at a fever pitch, her mouth straining to almost swallow whole the rigid penis that was pumping between her cheeks. As Lillian watched, Yvonne let the cock bury itself all the way up to Pete's pubic hair, so that none of his huge rod was left to see. Lillian expected to see Yvonne fall away choking with all of Pete in her throat, but she didn't.
Lillian held her breath as Pete spread Yvonne's fleshy inner thighs even farther 'til he'd splayed her wide.
Her moist, blood-gorged slit was in plain sight, the throbbing wet flesh dripping with his saliva. Then Pete dropped his head and Yvonne's writhing pumping cunt was lost from view. Her legs locked around Pete's burrowing head, her hips salaciously moving in rhythm with his foraging tongue and the beat of the infernal music.
Fredric's arms tightened even harder around Lillian and she could feel one of his hands close fiercely around her breast, the other at the crotch of her knit bellbottoms. His fingers found her slit through the cloth of the slacks and her sheer bikini panties and pressed hard. Involuntarily, subconsciously Lillian found herself beginning to lean with Yvonne's undulations as Pete continued to lick and suck the girl's crotch.
"I can't stand it," she gasped, though no one could hear her above the music. She tried to cease the sympathetic movements of her body but Fredric's arms and hands held her in a steel grasp. "Please, please, no," she moaned. Words tumbled from her lips piteously, an incoherency, almost an idiot's babbling.
Yvonne tasted Pete's masculine musk, the piquant tang of his pungent genitals and she ravished them with her warm tongue, tremors of delight shooting through her. She brushed along its base and wide underside to the coroneal ridge, stickily protruding from the thick foreskin, and then placed with it in lapping puppy strokes. She managed to slit the tiny hole in his smooth bloated glans with the tip of her tongue. Then she slid down to the base again and his hair-covered sac of testicles and her saliva dribbled freely over them.
Removing his lovely cock for a moment, she took hold of it with one hand and shucked it hard up and down, up and down as she slathered his balls with sweeps of her hungry mouth, catching as much of his bursting flesh as she could. She could feel his sucking mouth on her wide-spread cunt that was mashed to his face.
Her manipulations made him squirm and dance 'til his hair-circled brown anus showed. Yvonne continued to lick along the corded ridge between his spread buttocks, cruising tantalizingly around his puckered asshole, slathering his inner thighs with saliva, then stiffening her tongue and ramming it home into the brown crinkle of his asshole.
Her own pubic area was flaming with the dragon lashes of his tongue and burning sweeps of his mouth on her clitoris and cunt. Frenzied, with the wild boiling sensations churning her loins and belly with erotic ferment, she was being driven with maniacal speed toward her crashing climax. God! She had to cum with his gigantic young cock in her mouth, with her own mouth overflowing with the gush of his mighty orgasm.
She was going to suck and suck and suck every drop of his precious semen... dry to the balls! Trailing her tongue back over his bloated scrotum and along his purplish shaft to the pulsing head she slipped her lips down deep on it again.
Pete groveled in her juicy cunt, her rhythm in perfect harmony to his thrusting tongue. The complete abandon, his utter capitulation to this angel who'd brought him out of darkness blotted out everything except this frantic and lovely debauchery of which he was a wildly willing partner. He could feel her desire-flamed pussy opening to his mouth as he could feel his huge swollen rod sucked tight against the tender inner roof of her mouth, and a moan began to build deep, deep within his chest.
Pete felt the cheeks of her ass clench and relax over his excited face. He pried her loins still wider and pushed his mouth deep against her slick vaginal slit, and she squirmed as though stuck. The pulsing hair- circled pussy was deeply sunk on his nose and lips, and clenching her buttocks tight so she couldn't slip, he stuck his thick wet tongue deep within the soft wet fleshy folds. He felt her gasp with wild excitement and this caused her to intensify her frenzied nibbling, at the same time quickly screwing herself down on him all the harder. He could hardly breathe with her vagina opening and closing in hot tight rubber-band contractions.
Spreading her wider with his palms, he flicked his tongue over her alabaster backside, sucking and licking while she sashayed her ass almost out of control.
The tide of her cunt flowed wider, the secretions washing down his chin and her legs while he sluiced her stretched vaginal hole. Pete could feel her muscles contract and then hollow around his head while his tongue burrowed deeper with each sharp thrust. Her tantalizing odor was a sex perfume mixed of cunt lubrications, faintly sweaty skin and the orifice of her anus. He removed his tongue from her slick warm pussy and roved along the puckered pink bud of her asshole, circling the scalloped edge and then stabbing hard into her anal passage with savage thrusts. Then he returned to the sticky, pulsing pussy lips, lunging deeper into the hidden valley to discover the throbbing erect clitoris. His teeth bit it tenderly while his tongue taunted it unmercifully as she bucked and writhed above him in a desire-maddened dance. He could feel she was almost ready to cum!
Ramming his tongue deeper in her hole, he could feel the mounting moans racking her body, bringing her closer and closer. The warm soft thighs clamped viciously and he could feel the sopping flesh trying to suck him into the vortex of her swirling vagina. Her heels snaked against his shoulders and the tormented palpitating pussy mashed gluttonously against his face. The muscles of her body corded in ridges and she pulled savagely on his penis with mouth and hands in ever-increasing fury 'til...
He felt her stiffen and her whole body seemed to explode over Pete as his load of sperm began to burst in a mighty roar along its narrow tube. MY GOD! C-U-U-U-M-M-M-M! BURS-S-S-S-T-T-T-T! GOOD! OH GOD SO GOOD! Her wanton wrenching body quaked uncontrollably and the love juices poured from her sweet wide cunt. The torrents flowed sticky warmth over his face and her teeth chewed his cock in savage exultation, then plunging it deep in her throat, taking it to the hilt as his body shot molten glory into her throat.
She sucked the shooting hot jets of his semen exuberantly, hungry for the volcanic cum that kept spurting down her throat as he jerked and groaned beneath her, ramming it further and further down her throat.
The music was cymbaling in a crashing, thrashing cacophony of sound as his cock continued to jerk in paroxysms of delight, gushing a hot stream in her churning belly. The semen was searing hot and she clamped her lips tightly, twirling her tongue around the throbbing head. His balls were bottomless and continued to shoot the seemingly unending torrent that she sucked insatiably in long shuddering gasps, her own loins gasping in incredible joy over his face.
Fredric could feel Lillian's wetness soak through the two layers of cloth that covered her. She was in an agony of guilty desire as she watched in snakelike hypnosis the two young bodies sucking their mutual delight. He could feel her shake and shudder, alternately arching against the rock of his penis with her ass and then plunging her pelvis forward against his tentacled fingers that clamped her crotch. His other hand held her prisoner against his chest and that hand nipped and kneaded both swelling breasts through her sweater and bra 'til the buds of nipples stood out in twin knobs.
Jesus! Those kids were having one hell of a good time. And his good time was coming. Soon now, he'd pick Lillian up and carry her out to the studio. She was delirious now, murmuring an incoherent broken babbling that no one could hear for the enveloping music that shook the rafters. He let her rave, kissing her throat and ear and rubbing his fingers hard in her cloth-covered slit that got wetter by the minute.
Youth didn't have to be wasted on the young. He'd discovered that in India as a young man working on his first doctorate. A culture that old had always seemed to know the rules this culture hadn't grasped... the main one being, use it or lose it. Here he was at fifty and he knew he could still keep up with that young buck of eighteen writhing on the carpet... but it was only because he's never stopped using it... hot, hard and as often as possible.
The kid was learning fast, though. Yvonne had really gone to work on him. A few sessions at the Centre and they could go jetting back to New York.
Lillian was plucking at his hands feebly... those hands that ravished her shaking flesh. Her eyes poured silent tears and she saw Pete sucking on Yvonne's slick, enflamed cunt as eagerly as he had sucked her own breast when he was born. They slipped out of focus then through the veil of her tears but she felt her own flesh sear and cringe at the never-ceasing hands that both held, cherished and defiled her.
She was in the hot cavern of hell... that raging hearth was only the beginning. She knew not what was to come. She only knew she'd been condemned to live for her eyes still had vision and her flesh sensation.
She could imagine a mouth sucking her own naked, wet genitals. A fire burned there now and her will was too weak to stamp it out. Oh God, don't abandon me to this den of hell.
Fredric slipped his hand under her sweater to her hot naked ribs and then eased it up under her bra 'til his hand held one swollen heavy-gorged breast. She was babbling and sobbing, "God, don't abandon me...." Did she imagine she was abandoned when every pulse of her body was screaming with life?
He held her hard for she would have fallen. His cock was jerking a huge message against her hot buttocks and his hand pinched her hard nipple in a pain he knew was joy. Carefully he worked his other hand inside her knit slacks at the waist. They stretched easily and his hand slid down her belly to the rim of her bikinis and he plunged it still further 'til he plowed the soft cushion of her pubic hair. The pulsing silkiness of her slickly wet slit under his fingers sent a charge of electricity through his loins. God, she was ready. So ready.
He was sure she'd never even been sucked and he was going to suck her off 'til she had a barrage of orgasms that would blow her mind.
Lillian felt the searing rising wave of pleasure wash over her... belly and thigh, breast and cunt, throbbing and churning in an abandon as wanton as the wild tableau of debauchery before her.
Ripples of fire shot through her ear to her loins and they were already at white heat. A delicious wetness poured from her, tapped like a spring that trickled down her thighs. The hot bodies in the firelight were bucking and arching, cleaving and sucking, nuzzling and stabbing like some long-forgotten animals mating in a primordial slime. The bodies no longer had names or relationships... they were nameless ecstasy and she was sharing a little of it by looking.
The music was at a fever, crashing in great waves, each bigger than the last, and she arched against the invader stabbing at the walls of her citadel.
Suddenly she was borne up, she knew not where, and her head fell. Something was carrying her away... away... away. Numbly she closed her stretched eyes and let herself sink, no longer caring, no longer knowing.
After a long time she felt herself laid on a bier like a sacrifice. She did not care. She had already known too much. Clothes were stripped from her numb body and she could feel the air on nipples, arms, thighs. She let it happen... not willing anything.
CHAPTER SIX
Fredric stripped her limp body quickly. Her eyes were closed but her breath came in ragged pants. God, she was wet to her knees in flowing cunt juice! He tore his own clothes off with shaking hands, noting with satisfaction the great size of his rigid shaft, revealed by the light pouring through the skylight from a gibbous moon.
Then he gently stroked her from toes to nipples. Wherever his hands went she trembled like an aspen.
Thank God for this little studio of Yvonne's where she dabbled at painting like most of the other females in Carmel. At least it had a bed he could bring Lillian to that was away from the main house. By now Yvonne and Pete would have had their crashing orgasm, and unless he missed his guess... they'd be at it again soon.
Slowly he spread Lillian's legs. He mustn't break this seeming trance she was in... not yet. God, what a magnificent body and for all practical purposes almost virginal. She'd lived like a nun for years.
Below the shadowed patch of hair he saw her inner thighs and inflamed vaginal lips gleam wetly. His cock jerked in anticipation and he threw himself between her spread legs. Hungrily his eyes feasted on the dripping pink lips of her cuntal mouth. He slid his hands up her thighs, along the satin hips to the great primeval mounts of her breasts and as he caught them fiercely in his hands his tongue shot out to lick that sopping cunt from asshole to clit in one long delicious lick.
"OH-H-H-H-H-H-HHHHHHHHH!" She moaned an eerie wail and arched under his hands and tongue in a convulsive lurch. Fredric drove his head savagely downward again, mashing his lips on her vaginal lips and ramming his stiff tongue deep in the dark hole of her womanhood in the ultimate kiss. Her arms flailed wildly and then found his head. Her fingers grasped his hair and clutched him deeper into her lust-soaked loins.
He'd suck her better than Pete sucked Yvonne. He'd blow her mind with multiple orgasms... this poor baby who'd never even been sucked before.
Fredric wantonly tongued her trembling sopping slit, his hands squeezing and cupping the firm high tits brutally all the while his mouth and tongue assaulted her deep furrow that ground upward to meet him. A sharp agonizing whine leaped from her throat as he licked the erect little clitoris pulsating under his tongue.
His teeth held it gently and he ran his tongue round and round it, over and over... up and down and back again.
Her head was flopping from side to side in the agony of ecstasy and Fredric opened his mouth even wider, sliding his tongue downward along the slippery lips to the hair-fringed vagina that throbbed to his touch.
Then he began to orally fuck her, hard and fast, harder and faster, faster and harder, sliding his stiff wet tongue up deeper and deeper into her clinging, clasping hole, listening to her unintelligible whimpers as he flicked and plunged and slipped and stabbed and whirled his tongue in the velvety inside of her pulsing cunt.
His hands slid under her thighs, propping them up 'til they lay draped on his shoulders, the whole ripening delectable plain of her cunt open to him in utter abandonment. Cupping her firm white buttocks in his hands he thrust his tongue deep, deep into the hot liquid fire of her pussy.
Lillian's ears heard the wild ravings and whimperings and moanings come out her own mouth as Fredric mouthed and kissed and tongued her dripping hole and all the while her brain screamed inside her skull OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD! And then, as her ass convulsed beneath the blade of his hard tongue, he drew it out and shot it licking downward to the tiny, virginal ring of her puckered anus.
Her breath sucked in in a tortured rapture that threatened to split her lungs as her body was being raped asunder with an impossible bliss. His hard tongue cut into her forbidden little asshole, splitting it wide to accept his pseudo-phallic tongue that plunged and plunged and plunged. Lillian's body quivered and shook uncontrollably beneath his powerful assault, the spasms of pleasure coming in torrents that quenched the small part of her mind that cried out that this was lewd, vile, perverted. She only knew it must never stop, this incredible rapture that washed her in great building waves of sheer animal delight.
Fredric sucked and sucked and licked and fucked her gripping tight little asshole with his tongue, enjoying the wild lurchings of her lust-captained body, knowing her climax was soon coming. Come on, baby, moan for me, grind it up to me, churn that belly and box and ass right up to me. I'll make you cum with my mouth and then I'll fuck you with my cock 'til it comes out the back of your beautiful head. He drove his tongue harder and harder into her tight anal passage and then drew it out slowly to slide it tantalizingly up the drenched wet pulsing slot of her cunt. Briefly he glanced up the high-walled valley of her breasts to see her face twisted in the grimace of uncontrolled passion. She loved it like nobody else! Such slavish adoring bliss.
It wouldn't be long now. He dug his tongue down again savagely.
Lillian squirmed and twisted beneath the un-shakeable tongue that sought and licked and sucked and ate the ripened fruit of her cunt, sending a stormy lightning-and-thunder rapture through the trunk and roots and branches of her body. It had to break soon. She couldn't stand it! She'd go mad with that fiery rod of a tongue burning her insides to cinders. Her head rolled like a broken doll's as she ground her whole crotch up to that lusting, leering face and lascivious tongue, whipping her to the heights ever higher and higher and higher.
Rising, rising, rising. Her arms clutched the bed, pushing her loins high in the air to meet the blistering passionate tongue, the gathering billows rising... rising... RISING! THE CREST!
"AGH-GH-GH-GH-GH-GH-AGH-GH-AGH-GHH-HHH-HHH-HHH-H!" She screamed deep in her throat, catching his head to her in a hammerlock, drawing him inward to her celestial fire.
Her juices flowed over Fredric's face and tongue, then down her ravished rectum to the bedspread beneath her.
Moment after moment she screamed again and again as he licked and sucked and gored and fucked her with his rapier tongue and the rapture stabbed her over and over and over. Her thighs locked his whole head and her nails raked his skull where her fingers clenched in his hair. She was cumming and cumming and cumming in a long string of multiple orgasms she hadn't known was possible.
At last she sank back exhausted, satiated and spent. Her thighs fell away and he looked up at her beautiful satisfied face.
"Was it so good for you, baby?" he murmured as he pulled himself up between her limp thighs to hold her close.
Cradled in his arms, she moaned softly, "Oh, Fredric, I never knew. How could I not know? So wonderful, so beautiful, so good. Oh God."
He could feel his cock throbbing like a lighthouse against her belly... the signals sweeping his brain in mounting frenzy. She dozed in his arms, crooning sometimes as she came back to consciousness.
After a long while, he kissed her gently at first, then insistently, shoving his tongue through her teeth and probing deeply.
He pulled away to whisper, "It's going to be better. I've got to fuck you now baby. My cock is aching so I can't stand it. I want to fuck you long and hard with it. I've got to shoot this hot load deep up inside your belly. I want to fuck you now!"
"Oh, fuck me. Yes, fuck me now... deep and long and hard. I want to feel your huge rod deep in my belly. Fuck me now."
His throbbing savage rocket cock was only too eager to begin the invasion she called for. His ragged breath came hoarsely and he knew he could not deny his cock its well-earned reward a moment longer. The fevered head, so swollen and screamingly sensitive, touched the blazing cuntal lips, spread wide for him.
Then he pressed forward, feeling the slippery wet lips begin to slide slowly back for his passage into her secret cavern. In one smooth long stroke, he lunged, shoving it all the way in.
"AHAGHGHGHAAAAAA!" she screamed in the agony that was tearing her asunder, splitting her completely apart. Her nails dug at his chest and shoulders and her legs spread even wider to try and ease the pain but it was no use. Down, down, down the thick long knife of his fleshy rod pressed into her contracting belly.
And then Lillian felt his huge penis crash hard against her cervix and the slap of his testicles against her defenseless rectum. He was into the very depths of her body... deeper than anyone had ever been... inches further... and in those secret recesses, inches were continents. An agonizing red flame surged and swept through her body with each pulsating beat of her vagina.
Fredric had wanted to take her in stages... easy... so she would beg for it. That one savage thrust had not been planned but his rod would not be denied the striking assault deep into her helpless body. Christ, she was tight, terribly, achingly, beautifully tight. It was like fucking a sixteen-year-old virgin.
Lillian took a long shuddering breath and Fredric felt the involuntary muscles pull on his throbbing cockhead.
He twitched and she moaned. He twitched his cock again, making it jerk upward inside her. Her muscled walls responded immediately, expertly massaging his blood-gorged, warmly encased cock like the nimble fingers of an expert masseuse.
Very, very slowly Fredric began pulling out a bit. The trunk of his penis was being clasped by the vise of her vaginal lips... loath to let it out at all. He tightened his ass cheeks, forcing his cock to throb in her close passage. Pleasure flickered across her face. Then very slowly he pushed it in again, slipping sweetly through the clinging, holding walls of flesh.
She didn't want him to withdraw, but when he did and then thrust in again to the deepest depths of her womb, she was amazed at the pleasure. Every muscular ridge of the probing penis she could feel against the velvet vaginal walls.
Slowly, tantalizingly he began pumping in and out of her. Her pelvis automatically elevated to meet him. Her body was alive as it had never been before. She could feel everything... all senses achingly aware.
Fredric began to rotate and grind his hardened shaft deeper and deeper into her. An answering rotation of her hips shot through him. He rocked above her, stroking into her in a practiced easy rhythm.
Everything had fallen away for Lillian... Pete and that girl in their animal sucking, wanting to get Pete settled in a life of his own, winning her dear Gordon back, all worries about morals or being used, all neuroses, all anxieties had fallen away... leaving only the thick long lovely cock sawing into her like a sharp-pointed plow into fertile earth.
She strained upward, her abdomen heaving in passion, her hands clutching his ass and driving him deeper and deeper into her screaming arching body.
Without breaking stride Fredric sank his teeth into her nipple and she screamed at the pain and pleasure of teeth on tit and rigid cock in violent contact with her clitoris. Frantically she surged up to keep the throbbing cockhead on her pulsating clit.
"AH-H-H-H-HHHHHH!" she moaned in adulation. Her legs went up his shoulders 'til her whole sopping clasping cunt was open for his assault. Fredric found her puckered little asshole with his finger and in one sudden vicious thrust forced it in the cringing anus.
"GAGAAAAAAAGH!" she screamed. "NOOOOOO-O-O-O!" She'd always thought people who did this vile dirty thing should see a psychiatrist, and here was a psychiatrist doing it to her body.
"Don't...." she wept. "Don't do that!" She jumped ever upward at the twin invasion of her body but the upward movement only drove that great cock deeper in her belly and that lewd finger farther in her ass. She cried out aloud but her words were gibberish. Her belabored body mocked her protests struggling to be heard for it rocked and fucked and strained in wild abandoned rapture. Her legs quivered on his thick shoulders and she pulled his mouth to hers so she could suck his tongue as voraciously as her cunt and asshole sucked his cock and finger.
Fredric moaned in deep animal pleasure. The bliss was almost unbearable. Slamming mercilessly into her, cock, finger and tongue, he felt what were silent screams of joy coming from her whole writhing body.
Feeling the unbearable climax beginning deep within him, he jerked his finger out and caught her ass cheeks in his hands, bruising her up to him as he hammered viciously in and out. He fucked as though she were the last fuck he would ever have, pounding into her like a maniacal piledriver, his breath rasping now in tortured ragged breaths. He dug deeper into the quivering slit between her widespread legs.
And then he felt the tortured pressure in his balls suddenly blow the dike and begin to roar down the narrow tunnel of his cock.
"CUM-M-M-MMM-M-MMMM-M-M-M with ME-E-E-EEEEEEEEE-E-E, princess-S-S-S!" he yelled.
"GODD-OD-ODDD!" she moaned as his cock exploded like a ball of fire deep in the channels of her belly that heaved wildly. Her nails dug his shoulders and her body thrashed in crazed convulsions as her vagina squirted its molten lava around his spurting shaft. The incredible delight of their mutual cumming swirled their hot juices in a boiling vortex of satisfaction deep within the earth of her belly. Her orgasms went on and on and on as her vaginal muscles desperately milked his boiling sperm 'til every drop was extracted. She was sucking his very essence from his balls and his male organ was slowly, slowly dying a sweet and dreamless death.
Lights suddenly flooded them, still locked tightly together at the end of the act of copulation.
"You slut!" The words were hissed out like bullets. "You filthy, lying bitch. What's the matter? Didn't Gordon screw good enough? Old Doc here looks like a real pro. God, how you've fooled me all these years. GOD-D-D-DDD!" The tears were streaming down Pete's face now as he stood in the doorway, dressed only in trousers, his fists clenched white at his sides. His face was white too, pinched and twisted with the agony of what he was feeling.
Fredric recovered first, sliding off Lillian and flinging the bedspread up over her. He threw on trousers. She was lying frozen as a statue, staring in horror at Pete. Her brain wouldn't function. Nothing functioned but her eyes burning on Pete.
"I hope you rot in hell!" Pete sobbed, hanging on the door frame. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his mother and this man had watched him with Yvonne. His Mother had watched them sucking in front of the fireplace. What had been so beautiful was suddenly ugly, filthy... as filthy as it had been for him to watch their groans and lewd fucking. GOD! GOD DAMN! He was shaking and hanging on the doorframe. He wanted to kill them both. He wanted to kill or get away... away forever.
"Pete. You're feeling very badly right now... but listen to me." Fredric came toward him holding out his hands.
"Don't come near me, you swine!" Pete snarled, a murderous white rage gripping his gut. He thought he was going to be sick, violently sick.
Lillian lay there scarcely breathing, watching the pain on Pete's face and feeling it knife her own gut. How could she have done this to him, how? If he killed her now she deserved it... but it was Pete who would suffer. The guilt was hers, not her innocent child's. How had she come to this hell? How?
"Pete," she whispered, the word like a knife in her breast.
"You screaming, wallowing, fucking slut!" Pete screamed, the words catching in his throat.
Then he was gone... the doorway blank... and the black night filling Lillian to the depths of her soul.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Fredric grabbed his shirt and ran out after Pete. He could hear him, thrashing his way down the side of the hill through the underbrush. No, Pete wouldn't listen to him now. It was bad enough when a child saw his parents fucking for the first time and usually at a much earlier age than this. Parents were supposed to be gods and goddesses... above the mundane bodily functions. But for a boy like Pete to see his mother with a man she wasn't married to... particularly when Pete had such unresolved Oedipal feelings himself... it could be disastrous. He knew Pete was capable of anything in the state he was in. Fredric could see the headlines now. HERNDON PATIENT GOES BERSERK!
Yvonne! She could stop Pete. Fredric raced toward the house. He found her coming out of her bedroom wrapped in a huge terrycloth bath blotter. She stopped in amazement when she saw him. She must have been in the shower when Pete had wandered outside and happened on their little party in the guest house.
"Yvonne. Get dressed. Pete's run off in the woods. He saw his mother and me out in the studio. You can guess the rest. Call the sheriff's department. Tell them you have a potentially violent patient... they've got to help you find him and bring him back. I've got to get my bag from the car and give Lillian a shot. She's in mild shock."
Dialing frantically while jerking on some clothes, Yvonne thought Pete must have really cracked for Herndon to be so frantic. After agonizing delays, during which she got completely dressed, she finally got through to the sheriff's office.
Her voice was under control as she explained in her best professional manner that she needed help in locating a potentially dangerous patient.
"Dr. Monteaux. We have very few men to cover a lot of county, but we'll get you an officer as soon as we can."
"But, when?"
"Hang on a minute and let me check." Yvonne felt the minutes ticking by. She could probably have found Pete herself by now.
"Looks like the nearest is about forty-five minutes from you, Dr. Monteaux."
"But there must be some way I can get some help sooner. This boy could kill someone."
"Well, that's about as soon as we can get you an officer, ma'am."
"Wait. What about the fire department here in the Highlands?"
"You might give them a call."
Yvonne didn't even bother to thank him but hung up and quickly called the fire department.
Fredric ran back to the studio with his black bag. Lillian was still lying on the bed, huddled in the bedspread, staring uncomprehendingly and shaking with chills that racked her body in shudders.
Quickly Fredric filled a hypodermic needle and swabbed her arm. She didn't even feel the needle as he pushed the plunger. Then he pulled all the blankets around her and wrapped her in an awkward bundle and carried her out into the darkness, around the house to his car. He eased her in, put the seat back as far as it would go and shut her in.
Running back to the house he almost collided with Yvonne in the hall.
"I'm taking Lillian home. She'll sleep now. I'll be back as soon as I have her settled. What about the sheriff's department?"
"They take too long. But the volunteer fire department will send up a couple of men. In the meantime," she said, flinging on a coat and a scarf, "I'm going to look for him myself. After all, I know this hill better than anybody."
"Good idea. I'll be back soon."
Fredric drove like an automaton programmed for fast careful alert driving. He glanced at Lillian, belted onto the seat in a bundle with a seat belt. She was out, head lolling and eyes closed.
He drove like a madman but a closely controlled one, coming down the treacherous curves of the mountain at racing speeds. Finally he was down to the highway and headed back to Carmel.
Yvonne stumbled through the bushes close to the house calling Pete, her heart hammering in her chest.
She had to find him. Even better than Herndon she knew what an overly sensitive, easily panicked boy Pete was. He'd had all the excitement he could stand for one day before this happened. Why did it have to happen? Damn! If only Herndon hadn't brought Lillian up here. But he had.
She didn't dare go too far into the woods before the firemen got there. "Pete. Please answer. Pete," she called softly, parting the wild sage and stumbling in the dark. "It's me, Yvonne. Please, Pete."
Oh Christ! It had been a helluva day! Gordon Atherton got up and stretched his tired cramped legs, rubbing his numb butt wearily. That pile of briefs was done. He looked at the stack of them on his desk with satisfaction. When the rest of the office went home and the phones stopped ringing he could really turn out the work.
One lone typewriter was still going out in the front office. He'd gotten so engrossed he'd forgotten about Miss Burnett... and asking her to stay and finish up the other research he'd need tomorrow on the Hill case. She hadn't liked it, either. The way her pretty little snub-nosed face had closed and her English accent got even more clipped. Well, hell. Everybody didn't always get what they wanted.
He looked at his face glumly in the mirror of his private bathroom. He hadn't gotten everything he wanted, either. When he'd finally landed the Fabini account he thought he was getting close. And when he'd married Lillian he'd thought he really did have everything. And now look. She was out on the coast wet-nursing that kid and he was in New York working his butt off and lonely as hell. Glumly he turned on his electric razor and let it glide over his face.
When he'd finished he didn't think he looked much better. Curly medium-brown hair, green eyes with shaggy eyebrows, strong jaw and straight nose. Hell, it was just a face, but at least he looked presentable enough now to stop and have a bite on the way home. Home. A lonely one-room studio he'd rented hastily when he'd walked out on Lillian. If he went back there now he'd get quietly drunk and feel like hell tomorrow.
A faint ping of the typewriter carriage suddenly impinged on his thoughts. Miss Burnett! What the hell was her first name? He picked up his toothbrush and brushed his teeth. Edith Burnett, that was it. Take her out to dinner and get a little of that free ass she'd been passing out... but only among partners in the firm. Well, he was a partner and he hadn't had his.
Besides, she laughed pretty and had a figure that would raise a prick on a corpse. And he'd damn near been a corpse for a year... sexually, that is.
He'd thought the day of priggish females was over 'til he'd married Lillian. He still didn't understand it. He'd never had any sack-time troubles 'til her... his wife, the one woman he didn't want to have sack trouble with.
Well, he'd earned a little freedom and a good fuck, he thought as he whistled, smoothing the unruly waves over his temples.
Leaning on his hands over her desk, he said, "Would you be able to find a little old-fashioned pity in that correct English heart of yours and have dinner with a lonely, middle-aged tired lawyer?" Gordon grinned down at the sandy-haired, blue-eyed young girl.
She pulled the typewriter cover on her machine and looked up at him sideways with her crinkly bright eyes.
"Well, I ought to tell you to buzz off, buster... and I would too... if I weren't so hungry," she laughed. "Just let me run to the loo a minute and put on some fresh lipstick. I won't be a moment."
He watched her walk down the hall to the ladies' room, switching that neat little butt of hers. She had a way of walking with her knees close together that swung her hips at every step. It was so delicious that when she'd first come to work for the firm there were even bets as to how long she could keep it up... so sure was everybody that it was as affected as her accent sounded to American ears. But it turned out to be just the way she walked. Hell, it was great. It might not be very genteel but it was great.
When she came back, Gordon didn't know quite what she'd done to herself in seven minutes flat but she looked elegant and far prettier. He could see she'd lowered the V of her navy suit and filled it in with pearls and had on white kid gloves but he didn't know how that could change her whole face so much.
She stopped in front of him, gave him a smart British-type salute with the backs of her fingers folded flat against her forehead. "Ready for inspection, sir!" He walked around her, falling in with the game, looking at her tight little ass, rounded and made for the right things, her slim ankles, letting his eyes linger a shade too long at the faint cleavage barely visible through the pearls where her suit neckline had been lowered by unbuttoning the top button.
"Yes, you'll do," he said sternly.
"Listen to him. I may just find the tube and go home after all," she teased.
Her dimple showed when she smiled. He liked that. Hell, he liked her. She was cute, agreeable, young and very pretty. Yes, Miss Burnett would do very nicely for tonight.
Pete sat on the rock ledge, huddled with his bare arms wrapped around his bare chest... not so much to keep the warmth of his body in but to keep his guts from spilling out. He'd long since stopped crying but his face still felt stiff from the dried tears. His eyes stared into the darkness below. How far it went on from the rocky shelf he didn't know. It was as though his eyes were propped open permanently for if they closed he would see against the black screen of his eyelids his mother and Herndon and feel his skin crawl with the knowledge they must have seen him earlier with Yvonne. It was too Goddamned much!
He'd felt so big and manly with Yvonne... so full of love and life... and his mother, his own mother had reduced it all to a pile of shit!
It had been a long time since he'd heard Yvonne calling him faintly from the top of the hill near the house. He didn't know how long but long enough for him to be shaking with the cold air coming up from the ocean somewhere down there far below.
He'd heard cars coming and going... voices... he didn't know whose. He didn't care. He just wanted to blot out the whole week they'd been in Carmel. He wished they'd never left New York. But then it would have been only a matter of time until he found out what kind of a slut his mother was. If this was what sex did to people he didn't want any. Fuck sex!
Stiff and sore, he rose with a groan and tried to see into the darkness. He turned and looked back toward the house. There were still a few lights in it. The only lights around. It must be late. Really late. Well, he'd better try and make it up to the road. What he'd do when he got there, he didn't know. He'd think about that later. All he knew was he could never go home again.
Slowly he parted the scratchy bushes and started climbing. As he got closer and closer to the top of the hill where it flattened in a wide curve that accommodated the road and the house he had the uncanny feeling he was being watched. He went slower and more carefully but twigs kept snapping underfoot and the bushes kept hissing and rustling at his every move.
Suddenly he heard a voice very close. "Pete. It's all right. It's only me." And then Yvonne caught his arm.
He shook it off. "Leave me alone."
"Oh, my poor darling. It's all right. No one's here." And her arms in a heavy wool coat were around his cold shaking achy body and she was hanging onto him like she was afraid he would fall. He wasn't too sure himself, come to think of it.
"Come on. Let's get some hot coffee in you." She squeezed him affectionately and walked him toward the house and he let himself be led. Christ, he was so tired, he didn't know what else to do anyway.
Pete felt like he'd been through a battle and the only thing saved was his own useless skin. He was alive but that was all.
She talked soothingly as she led him into the house, sat him briefly in a chair while she put the coffee on and then came and got him as though he were a rag doll and led him into the bathroom. He was still shaking and so tired he felt he might fall just from sheer exhaustion.
She held him with one arm and turned the shower on with the other. "Can you manage a hot shower by yourself?" He nodded dumbly, still avoiding her eyes. When she left he dropped his pants which were all he wore and stepped into the steaming shower stall. It felt so good he just stood there letting the heat of the water beat into him, moving only to let the water beat on his forehead... as though it could cleanse his dirtied brain too. When he got through he'd get the rest of his clothes and then he'd take off. He didn't know where and he didn't care.
When finally he stepped out of the shower he found all his clothes neatly laid out on the marble counter top and a cup of steaming coffee too. The scalding coffee tasted wonderful.
Yvonne was waiting for him in the bedroom when he came out. She had the coffeepot in her hand and refilled his cup. She smiled quickly up at him and then led him over to the bed. "You get some sleep after you finish your coffee. The world won't look so black tomorrow. You'll see."
Why didn't she say he'd acted like a punk kid... running off into the woods crying! His hand was shaking as he put his cup down and when he looked back at her she threw her arms around him, crying, "Oh, Pete. It hurts so terribly to become a man."
Lillian came up from a thick sleep like a swimmer toward the air. Her head felt fuzzy and muffled as though swaddled in gauze. She even felt it with her hands to be sure it wasn't. As her hands fell back she felt the familiar silk of her own ivory satin comforter. She was in her own bed. Fredric must have brought her home but... and then she remembered. Oh God, she remembered! Pete. Pete.
No, she couldn't think about that yet. Not yet. It was too painful and she felt weak and woozy.
Cautiously she opened her eyes. The bedroom was dark but the door was partly open into the hall where a small light burned. She listened intently but the only sound was her own heart pounding dully in her ears.
She could feel the bed linen against her naked body. The skin felt too sensitive and almost hurt as though she had a fever. Slowly she began to climb out of bed and it was just as though she'd had a long illness that had left her weakened and depleted.
Finally she made it to the bathroom. The fresh bruises on her body were beginning to show... the golden pubic hair matted with Fredric's sperm and her own secretions. She looked down at herself with loathing and disgust and wanted to hide that body that had betrayed her so. But first she had to clean it... and clean it.
She turned on the water and stepped into it, bracing her hands against the tile walls. She stood for long minutes, just letting the water lave her tired filthy body. Everything she did, every movement seemed to be in slow motion. Gradually she scrubbed every inch of her body with soap and a thick washcloth. Then she shampooed her hair. Still she stood until the water began to cool. At last she turned the knobs and stepped out. Wrapping her hair in a towel she twisted it into a turban and then took a thick jacquard towel to her body, scrubbing it dry 'til her skin felt raw. At last, wrapped in a thick fleecy pink dressing gown, her hair turbaned, she could raise her eyes to the mirrored reflection of herself.
She looked like herself except for a faintly bruised look around the eyes... the look Pete had. But she did not look like "whore"...."slut"...."bitch." All the things Pete had called her, she was. She'd done them. She was guilty but her actions did not show. She wondered dully if and when they would appear as visible proof.
But Pete wouldn't be here to see them. He'd gone, vanished out that dark door... forever, she knew, if he could. Her body that had given him life had betrayed her and him beyond redemption.
Cautiously she moved around the house like a sleepwalker, not knowing what to do or what she wanted.
Lost. Inept. She'd turn on a light only to snap it off the next time she circled the room. For some time she found herself staring at the enameled and gilt clock and not knowing what time it said.
In the kitchen she had to think a long time before she could remember how to make milk toast. Finally she got the hot milk poured over a bowl of thickly buttered toast squares. She sat at the kitchen table eating hungrily with a soup spoon, concentrating on feeding her empty and abused stomach. It began to warm and feel better. Her head didn't feel so funny now, either.
Gordon's strong and kindly face began to appear in her head. The thick eyebrows and strong nose and jaw, the thick wavy hair he hated so. She smiled, remembering how hard he brushed it in the mornings to get it to stay put. Sudden tears of self-pity welled up in her eyes. If only he hadn't left her. If only she hadn't come to California. If... if...
"Sorry this place is so noisy and crowded tonight," Gordon said, bending his head down to Edith's ear so she could hear him above the din of the music and people crushed on the dance floor.
She snuggled closer into his arms, her temple against his jaw, fitting every luscious curve into his arm until they were pressed tightly from breast to knee. "I'm not," she whispered. He gave himself up to the music and the feel of her warm soft body tightly pressed to his. God, it was so good to hold a woman against him. He barely shuffled his feet in time to the music, swaying with the beat and feeling her fragile rib cage through her suit and her big tits mashed against his chest and the mound of her pubic bone and her thigh against the growing bulge of his cock hidden between them. They swayed for long minutes, a little island in the swirling waters of humanity around them.
"Come on. Let's get out of here."
In the taxi she came eagerly into his arms and they rode to Gordon's apartment locked together like teenagers. Her mouth parted under his and his tongue probed aggressively while his hand insinuated under her suit jacket and bra beneath the shelter of her coat that was draped over them. One firm heated breast bulged into his grasp and Edith's breath was drawn in sharply as he squeezed the hot naked globe. Yes, she liked that as much as he did.
By the time the cab pulled up in front of his apartment they were both breathing in uneven little pants.
Gordon tipped the driver far too much while Edith pulled her coat on and buttoned it high.
Finally they were in the apartment. It wasn't too neat, but what the hell? The cleaning lady came tomorrow.
He hadn't realized how much Lillian did for him until he was alone. No cleaning lady could ever keep him in clean shirts and with all his buttons on.
"I wish I could afford to live close in like this," Edith said wistfully.
"Not much of a place, but I was in a hurry."
"Oh, I think it's nice." Her big blue eyes said, "You're nice too." She was a little high, he thought happily.
Gordon rummaged in the closet that had been made into a tiny kitchen-bar. "I'll get us a nightcap." Ice cubes for drinks and a piece of toast and a cup of coffee in the morning were the extent of his use of it.
"I'd rather have a joint, love, if you have any about."
Gordon straightened, not sure he'd heard her right. He looked over his shoulder at Edith sprawled comfortably on the bed-couch, her sandy hair tousled and curling around her face. She looked terribly young and vulnerable. He felt like a dirty old man suddenly. A nightcap he offered her and she asked for pot as naturally as his generation had asked for beer.
"I'm afraid I don't have any," he stammered.
Christ. Who was he kidding? When you were married you even forgot how to seduce a girl any more. He'd been uncomfortable most of the evening except when he was holding her.
He turned back to the kitchen cupboard, poured himself a stiff Scotch and downed it in a couple of gulps. As he set the glass down he felt her arms slip around him from behind and her face rub against his shoulder blades.
"Never mind, love. I'd rather have you anyway," she murmured, sliding one hand down his belly to his burgeoning cock buried beneath his pants and shorts. She traced the outline of his bulging prick with her fingers lightly. The fire in his loins outdid the Scotch burning in his stomach. Her other hand wriggled inside his shirt and smoothed over his chest and ribs. A little whimper escaped his constricted throat and he turned around to clench that hot little body to him.
Gordon's lips swarmed over Edith's in a kind of frenzied, slightly angry tenderness. He felt his teeth against hers and she opened her mouth and his tongue rammed into her, toying with her lips and tongue. She sucked on his tongue, her eyes shut as he clutched that tight little rounded ass up to him, feeling the muscles in it tighten in his hands. God damn! If she wanted to fuck she was damn well going to get fucked.
He pushed her before him, her arms still tight around his neck as he maneuvered her, and squirmed around the furniture to the bed he hadn't even bothered to make this morning. He shoved her down on the bed and half fell on her, sliding one hand up her nyloned leg under her skirt to her soft inner thighs.
She sat up like a jack-in-the-box, slapping at his hand playfully, "Stop that. Not so fast, love. Give a girl a chance," in her precise English voice. She wriggled from his grasp to stand up and walk over by the armchair. Slowly she unbuttoned her jacket and drew it off to reveal the most incredible bra he'd ever seen in his life. Her big beautiful breasts were in a nude-colored net bra that had holes over the ends of each cup which allowed her deep pink areolas and nipples to poke through, naked and biteable.
"That's the damnedest thing I've ever seen!" Gordon said, half rising from the bed.
"Isn't it," she laughed. "Imported from Europe." Then her skirt slid further and further down until it dropped to her feet in a puddle of navy cloth. Her long rounded thighs and calves were encased in sheer navy nylon that came up high like a ballet dancer's tights but the top of them was a nude elasticized lace bikini that just barely covered her pubic hair. She stood for a moment while he looked at her... her high firm breasts shaped to cones by the net bra till the bare nipples stuck out in points. The curve of her waist and the dimple of her navel at the top of her firm white belly down to the lace bikini holding her thighs encased in sheer navy nylon. His cock was jerking in a crazed beating against his shorts and pants as he tore off his shirt. He couldn't take his eyes off those net-encased breasts with the naked ruby nipples winking at him.
Edith walked away from him to the kitchen door, switching those almost-bare buttocks with every step, the nude lace caught in the cleft of them and barely clinging to the rounded cheeks. He could hear her pouring a drink as he tore his clothes off. His cock leaped out like it was spring-loaded, quivering out from his hairy loins in a thick blood-swollen shaft.
She turned and came over to him with a drink in her hand and a knowing look in her eye. She stopped by the bed as his hands caught her legs, running up and down the silky nylon. "Here's mud in your eye, love."
She lifted her drink just as his mouth closed on one naked tight nipple thrusting through the open end of her bra.
Gordon heard her moan as his lips sucked hard on the nipple. His tongue was teasing even harder, sweeping it in circles and licks. His hands came up to hold those netted cones and his mouth moved from one to the other, licking the pointed succulent nipples like ice cream. Still sucking and biting, his hands slid down her satin-fleshed sides to the bikini pantyhose and he stripped them down her long legs like banana peels. His tongue snaked out then as he moved his head lower and jabbed the stiffened end of it into the dimpled navel. "Oh-h-h-h-h," she cried softly and he sucked and thrust his tongue in the tiny depression in her belly. It was as though he'd found the ripcord and her whole body was opening like a lazy parachute. He could feel her arms twist behind her to undo the bra and strip the offending little cloth from her. Her belly was writhing up to his probing tongue and began to rotate as he left her navel and began sliding his wet tongue down her belly in tongue-wide streaks of saliva.
"Yes-ss-ss-ss-s, love-ve-ve-ve-ve. That's it," she hissed softly, her thighs flexing as his head moved downward and his tongue parted the crisp curls of sandy pubic hair. Gordon's tongue found the top of her slit that was already wet with the silky secretions her body was pouring out. All the time his hands were caressing the satiny tender skin of her calves and thighs and buttocks. God. He wished Lillian could have responded this way. The body under his hands and tongue and mouth quivered at his every touch but it was just a hot lovely little body. It wasn't his beautiful Lillian that he loved. The vision of her that leaped unbidden into his head he banished by burying his mouth on Edith's erect throbbing clitoris.
"Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h God-od-od-od-d-d-d," Edith screamed softly between her teeth as her hips and pelvis arched to his voracious mouth. Gordon ate her spasmed little pussy with relish as his enormous prick grew larger and larger in anticipation. He caught her clitoris gently in his teeth, the swollen tiny little pricklike gland pulsating and shooting sparks of sheer pleasure along her nerves.
She was swaying and moaning and jerking her loins up to his probing energetic curious tongue like a motor- wound toy doll sparking out on its battery. Jesus! He hadn't had any eating pussy in so long! Suddenly he lunged his tongue into her throbbing wet hole and she arched and almost fell as though struck in the vitals with an arrow.
"Ohhhhhh, please." She was shaking and shuddering as though a chill wind were freezing her bones. "I can't take any more. Lie down and let me suck you. Please."
She pushed at his shoulders until he lay back against the pillows and she crawled between his legs and kneeled before his sky-rising penis like it was a heathen god. Her hands came out to stroke it from the top down to the thick base and then cup his balls like they were precious weights as her mouth kissed the head that was oozing his male secretions. He watched her bend her head again and take the bulging cock-head in her mouth and nibble it tenderly. Gordon almost came off the bed at the sheer exquisiteness of sensation.
God, this proper little British chit must have started early. She knew exactly what to do and how to do it but he didn't give a damn who she'd learned on or where she'd learned it as long as she just kept sucking. His prick looked and felt gargantuan as her little red mouth circled it and her tongue swirled around it, lashing his glans with a maddening passion and then flicking the tongue tip into the little slit. Her big beautiful breasts were bouncing as her head bobbed, tonguing and licking his rod that was jerking with agonizing joy.
Edith's mouth began to suck harder and harder, taking more and more of his shaft into the wet velvet cavern of her mouth.
"GODDDDDDDDD," Gordon groaned deep in his chest, lifting his pelvis up to her slavering, sucking mouth.
His whole damn aching boiling cock was disappearing down her beautiful sucking throat, as her cheeks stretched grotesquely, puffed out to accommodate his mammoth and erect member.
Oh, God, so good! Gordon's belly and guts were churning with the building orgasm that was gathering inside his balls and he knew he couldn't hold out much longer. Edith sucked all the way to the tip of his lust-swollen penis and then laved her tongue up and down, along the ridge and then over his balls, lapping and licking with little mewling sounds spilling from deep in her throat. As she came back to the head, she licked it in a swirling motion all the way around and then plunged her pretty face down so her mouth caught almost the whole length of his trembling huge rigid cock deep in her throat. Gordon thought surely she'd triggered the boiling cauldron of his semen but not quite yet. He caught her face in his hands and held her as she was for a moment, impaled on his great pulsing prick which filled her throat completely. He'd almost forgotten how good sex... pure sex... without the emotional overtones that could make it a heaven or a hell... could be.
Just pure unadulterated sex.
He pulled her up then, off of his cock and up into his arms so she was lying on top of him and kissed her deep and long, the wild taste of his own cock in her mouth.
Still sucking and probing the pink voracious mouth, he reached down and spread her thighs so she was straddling him, then lifted her hips. She was kneeling then astride his body and he smeared her lubrications from her wet swollen cunt with his fingers the full length of her slit and even around the asshole. He gently wormed the tip of one finger in her puckered little anus, feeling the walls clinging. Then he had it in one knuckle, then two. She was moaning and breathing shudderingly through her nose.
Pulling her mouth away and gasping, "That's it, lover, fuck me in the ass," and she was screwing herself down on his finger, waggling and grinding so his finger burrowed even deeper in her bowels.
Then she lifted herself so she could guide his hardened pole to her silky wet cuntal lips and then she suddenly plunged so his prick slid all the way up to her cervix. She ground her buttocks up and down, her face contorted with the lusty unbelievable fulfillment of cock in cunt and finger up ass, both her holes stretched tight with Gordon.
"That's it. That's the way I want it. Oh, God, Edith baby, you're so gooood."
She looked down and grinned, giving him her British salute again with her hand to her forehead.
"Glad to be aboard, sir."
With his free hand he pulled her forward so he could kiss her mouth while still bucking his cock deep in her willing, pulling, milking cunt and his finger deep in her constricted asshole. He moved in and out of her orifices like pistons in unison.
"OH-h-h-hhhh Gordie. It's lovely," she crooned wantonly. "Fuck harder. So hard."
Wave after wave of pure feeling was crashing over the head of Gordon's burning, throbbing fucking prick. A great swell of excitement was lifting and surging.
He drove his hips upward to thrust his great rigid driving cock deep in her belly. Edith was grinding down to meet him, her rhythm perfectly attuned to his, with small slapping sounds as she bore down.
Gordon grabbed her bouncing breasts with both hands now, bruising them in his frantic, surging, clutching upward thrust.
"Oh-h-h-h God, Gordie, fuck me good... so-o-o-o-o gooood!"
"Soon, baby, I can't hold on much longer."
Her hips were rotating a maniacal whirling dervish dance as she ground down on his great throbbing pounding pole. "Yes, Yesssss," she chanted. "Oh, do it, do it, do it."
The beat increased as the surging boiling threatening swell lifted under them and they were riding higher and higher and higher.
Edith's head was flailing from side to side and she was shaking and moaning, digging her nails deep in Gordon's shoulders. His hands clutched her hips as she rode him like a bucking maddened stallion for he was slicing into her cunt and up into her belly and he strained to keep her on.
It was beginning to blow. He could feel the seething cauldron peak and boil and then... blow!
"GOOOOOOO-OO-OD-OD-OD-ODDDD!"
"AEI-EI-EI-EI-EI-EO-EEEEEEEEEE!" she wailed as his hot blazing semen gushed up in her like a geyser and triggered her moaning, screaming orgasmic spasms.
"CUMMMMMMMMMMMM," he screamed, still shooting deep in her belly like a gusher that was never going to stop.
"I'm cummmmmmming," she ground through her teeth, shaking and quivering with the blazing torch of his pumping rod that seared her in rapture.
At last, still spurting, he pulled her upper body down on his heaving chest and they wrapped their arms and legs around each other and breathed and tasted and kissed and sucked mouth to mouth.
As he kissed her, his cock was still pumping inside her warm velvet cunt that was convulsing to milk his balls dry. Hearts thundering, they lay face to face, panting and shaking little quakes. She wriggled 'til her thighs lay on top of his, imprisoning his slowly dying prick still inside her.
BRRRR-RRR-RRR-RRRRR-RRRRR-RRR-GGGGGGGGGGGGG!
Gordon and Edith flinched in a startled clutching as the shrill ringing of the phone echoed through the room and their still pounding hearts. Edith slid down beside him as he reached frantically for the damn thing in the nook by the bed.
"Yes," he said gruffly.
"Gordon?"
"Yes." His heart was still pounding in great thuds in his chest and it speeded up as he realized it was Lillian in California.
"I'm sorry to call so late but... I had to talk to you." Her voice sounded small and childlike... the usual crispness gone.
"Okay. What's the matter?" He reached down to pull the bedclothes over him. He turned over and reached for a cigarette, not realizing his voice had softened.
Edith slipped from the bed, gathered her scattered garments and discreetly disappeared into the bathroom.
Gordon breathed easier and took a deep drag on his cigarette, listening intently to Lillian's confused and uncharacteristically muddled and emotional voice.
She was babbling on and on about Pete and Gordon felt his anger rising. Something about Pete being gone.
"Look, Lillian. What do you expect me to do about it when I'm in New York?"
"Oh, Gordon... you should never have left me... and I should never have left you," she said softly.
"If all you want of me is to find your erring son... and it looks as though it is... then I did exactly the right thing!" His blood was rising. Pete! Always Pete!
"No. No, you don't understand." She was sobbing now. This wasn't like her but he was so mad he ignored it.
If Pete was gone it was good riddance as far as he was concerned. He was also embarrassed as hell that she'd phoned at the precise moment she had. Gordon pulled the covers higher as though she could see right through the phone.
All the emotions churning through him made him gruffer than usual. "Look, you hired a doctor for the kid. Get him to do something. That's what you're paying him for."
"But Pete's gone," she sobbed helplessly.
"Look, it's one o'clock in the morning here. I can't do a thing about your problem tonight, Lillian. I'll try and call you tomorrow night."
"Oh, Gordon, darling. Pete's gone," she sobbed.
"And good riddance, too, I'd say! Good night!" He banged the phone down. He stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray. How in hell had he ever gotten himself married in the first place?
Edith walked out of the bathroom completely dressed. "That was your wife, wasn't it?"
"Yes. I haven't gotten a divorce yet."
She nodded and then trying to cover the embarrassment they both felt, "I'll just let myself out and get a cab downstairs."
"No. No, I'll get dressed and take you home." She shook her sandy curls and opened the door a crack.
"Good night." She blew him a tiny kiss from her fingers and tiptoed out, closing the door.
Gordon lay staring at the ceiling for a long long time.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Sublimation is a strange phenomenon. A defense mechanism that can be highly beneficial to the world... artistically, at least. Beethoven, Michelangelo, Descartes... the list is long and impressive... but... and we know this for a fact... the sublimations of the geniuses enriched the world but left the men themselves, the human being... a poor and miserable creature."
"Now." Fredric leaned back in his office chair and brought the tips of his fingers together, looking kindly at Pete and Lillian seated on the other side of his desk. "It's obvious that both of you have been sublimating in destructive ways. In your drive for success, Lillian, you attempted to fool your poor sex-starved body into believing it didn't need sex. You made yourself a hermit, Pete, bidding for your mother's attention. When you got that attention, you hated and resented that even more... for it wasn't the kind of attention you wanted.
"We've had a very unpleasant time because you have not been able to think of your mother as a person... a woman... with needs and wants that may not include you. You demand that she think of you as a person, however." Lillian lit a cigarette in an attempt to get hold of herself.
"The right hand never knows what the left one is doing."
"One way," Fredric was saying, "to change this destructive sublimation is to teach you to sublimate in constructive ways. At the risk of sounding old-fashioned, I must say that we're dealing with a pretty deep-seated Oedipal syndrome."
Fredric rose from his desk and began walking back and forth. "As you know, we use what might be termed rather unorthodox methods in reaching certain goals. At this point we're going to use two other patients, a mother and son, who have a rather similar problem. We'll do a group therapy session... the four of you... in which we hope you'll transfer and satisfy your Oedipal feelings to someone who's not related to you. From there, we'll progress to some seminars at Ramaden Centre.
"I prefer informal settings and relaxing surroundings so you'll come to my house for dinner at eight. Informal, of course."
Something in his face, serious and businesslike as it was, disturbed Lillian... a faint quirk at one corner of his mouth, a sliding away of his eyes that held a gleam of amusement. Group therapy. A dreary session of verbal assault, from all she'd read about it. It sounded embarrassing and dull. Nevertheless she had to see it through now. She was so grateful to have Pete back and to have at least his surface forgiveness.
Yvonne drove expertly down the Carmel Valley road. Pete edged his hand onto her pink wool-covered thigh.
"Pete. I'm driving."
"I won't interfere. I just have to touch you."
"You'll be touching... well, someone else tonight, Pete."
He slid his hand down her leg. "I don't want to touch anyone else."
"I know, darling. But you have to trust me. I promise you... you'll find our lovemaking even better for it. And you won't find tonight unpleasant. It'll be a kind of catharsis."
"I thought this was some kind of group therapy thing."
"It is," she said earnestly, "but, well, the doctor believes more in actions than words. Without being too clinical, we'll try and transfer your need for your mother to a woman who's not your mother."
"You're not my mother... and you're a woman." His hand slid up to squeeze her breast.
"Stop that. You'll make me have a wreck. No, Pete. You don't understand... an older woman... your mother's age or older."
"I'm not sure I understand all this but the doc seems to know what he's doing. But you've done more for me than all the doctors in the world. There's only one thing that bothers me. How many other guys have you taken on like me... I mean," he swallowed and finally blurted, "well, I don't want to be just another patient. I want to be... well... your guy."
"I know, darling," she said softly, throwing him a quick look of sweetness and sympathy. "Just remember... you've been pretty well... out of sorts for a long time and it will take some rather drastic... almost shock treatment... to do any permanent good. When you're really out of the woods... then we'll talk about us... okay?"
Fredric went straight to his bedroom suite for he could hear the faint clatter of dishes and pots coming from the kitchen which meant that Yuzo had dinner well under way.
Showering, he thought about the cases at hand. Lillian and Pete, Jessica and Andrew. How little people knew about their own bodies, their motivations, their lives. How much they relied on the Judeo-Christian ethic to guide them... leaving themselves so vulnerable thereby, for they knew nothing of physiology or even of evolution. Completely ignorant of their own intrinsic natures.
He was counting heavily on his own understanding of human nature in this case... though it was called by much fancier names in his profession. Lathering himself thickly, he let the water beat down on him. He was worried. If this was to work at all, he'd have to play them all like a maestro played an orchestra. So many things could go wrong. That had been a close call with Pete.
He hadn't a shred of solid scientific evidence to back him up, as he knew too well. He was playing a hunch and hunches could be devastatingly wrong. But... if he was right... the rewards could be enormous... not only in money. It could put him 'way ahead of the pack... Horney, May, Fromme... all of them.
He strode naked into the bedroom and pulled on a deep red silk kimono over black silk trousers and tabis.
He tied a long black fringed scarf low on the hips as Yuzo had taught him was proper for a Japanese gentleman. He felt a tremor in his stomach as he surveyed himself in the mirror, smoothing back his hair with a brush. He was taking the biggest gamble of his career and he knew it.
Her car lights stabbed the darkness and there was very little she could see outside their perimeter as she drove up the winding road. Mailboxes beside the road had disappeared by now and there was only wild sage and brush. Fredric must live in the wilderness. Alone... as she was alone now. She'd lost Gordon and she had very little hope that she could ever repair the damage between her and Pete. Fredric's fancy words had not soothed her fears. She was coming here tonight because she had started down a road that had no turning. It was as though a Greek tragedy was being played out and she was incapable of changing the inevitable action.
When it was over, and it would be soon, she'd go back to Fabini for that would be all she'd have left. She could see herself as she would be in years to come... as she had seen so many others... the lonely, embittered career woman, wielding her power like a club because power was all she had. No man, no child... just work... of which she was both master and slave. The money would amass but it would be nothing... except more power and more slavery.
She had no hope that tonight would change anything. Fredric had been so vague about it and she hadn't really understood what he was driving at. Transference. Sublimation. Just words. She needed to know that Pete was going to be all right... but she had no real hope.
A smiling Japanese houseman let her in to the foyer. He took her coat, bowing profusely. The house was so still and serene she felt she was in a museum. Then she heard a faint sound of voices and laughter, but the houseman stopped her when she started toward it. Just then Yvonne came from that direction and walked to her, smiling and holding out both hands in welcome.
"Oh, Lillian, I'm so glad to see you. I'm so glad Pete's back... so glad you're both here. I know everything's going to work out."
The girl seemed so sweet and genuine, her piquant beauty even more of a shock tonight for she was dressed in a long gray-green brocade robe that made her red hair even more startling.
"Come along." She took Lillian's hand and led her along the foyer, but into a small dressing room instead of the living room.
"I don't need the powder room," Lillian said.
The girl turned and smiled, "I know," as she pulled a long ivory brocade robe from the closet. "This is for you to put on." She held it out in delight.
"Surely we don't need costumes for a therapy session," Lillian laughed a little impatiently.
"All of us play many roles," Yvonne smiled gently.
"But I really think this is a little silly."
"The others have all changed. You might feel a little out of place." Yvonne smiled as she went out the door.
"I'll be back to get you in a moment."
Lillian shrugged and began to change. Fredric had always been the strangest man she'd ever met. She flung off her clothes and threw on the heavy robe. It closed with a high belt and a jeweled clasp just under her thrusting breasts. The feel of the heavy silk hardened her nipples and the slip of the fabric on her naked body was sensuous. What was happening to her? She had never in her life been so conscious of her body as she had begun to be in the last few days. She could almost feel Fredric's burnings hands on her. Guilt gripped her. What kind of a creature was she turning into?
When Lillian was introduced to the other couple, Jessica Wein and her son, Andrew, she realized they were the two she'd seen in Fredric's waiting room that first day. They were both dark with the almond eyes and full lips of renaissance religious paintings. Jessica could have been a madonna with a deep widow's peak of dark waving hair parting her high forehead and a beautiful oval face. Andrew had the idealized beauty of a young Greek god or a saint with his curling dark collar-length hair, straight Roman nose and voluptuous lips.
Pete appeared from behind one of the many priceless-looking screens that divided the vast room. His eyes looked haunted but he smiled and offered her a drink from the tray he carried. She took it with a trembling hand. Was he ever going to be whole again after what she had done to him?
Fredric led her to a low lounge. "As you can see, I borrow from whatever culture that seems to offer excellence," he said, indicating the spare luxurious room, the robes, the low candles. "Young Andrew is feeling a little out of it. I'll bring him over. You'll like him, I think."
Soon Lillian found the beautiful young man smiling uncertainly beside her. He was miserable, she realized.
She smiled warmly at him and began to chat casually in a conscious effort to put him at ease. He looked nothing like Pete but there was something about him that reminded her.
When she looked up she saw that Pete was now seated with Jessica. He was bending attentively to her as she laughed gaily. These were evidently their dinner partners. Transference, wasn't that it?
Fredric managed to have the glasses never more than half empty at all times. Shoulders were leaning against pillows, feet were being curled up on the low couches. He pressed the hidden buzzer under his table and Yuzo appeared with trays of exotic delicacies.
Lillian had never tasted such exquisite food. Andrew was voracious. She passed him little tidbits from her plate. He particularly liked the bits of meat in a honey sauce. She picked one up and held it to his mouth.
Inadvertently his mouth caught her finger and sucked the sweetness from it. An electric jolt sizzled through her loins when she caught his eyes and saw that it was no accident. My God. She pulled her finger away quickly. He was only a boy... like Pete.
Pete realized he was a little drunk when Jessica leaned over to pick up one of the candles to light a cigarette and her coral robe gaped to show most of one perfect ripe white breast. He wanted to burrow his head there and take it savagely in his mouth. He shook his head to clear it. She looked as desirable as Yvonne. How could she? Jessica must be at least as old as his mother... maybe older.
A sudden vision of his mother leaning over his bed when he was little leaped into his head. She'd been wearing a thin white nightgown and her breasts had been clearly outlined in the night light. When she'd leaned over him he'd reached up his chubby little hands and touched those lovely soft breasts for an instant and then his hands had been pulled away and tucked firmly under the covers. He still remembered the terrible ache of disappointment and clearly understood he'd been a bad boy.
"Come and help me with the screen for the movies," Fredric said to Yvonne. Unnoticed by the others, they went to the far end of the room and pulled the heavy drapes. Then they pulled over them a large movie screen.
Fredric walked back to the others and announced, "We're going to have a little entertainment. It's exotic but then we're all grown up. If it suggests anything to you... feel free. You're among friends who wish you well."
His voice had a slow hypnotic quality to Lillian... as though the words were very widely spaced. It must be the alcohol. Was she drunk? she wondered hazily.
The room had darkened except for the flickering candles and now soft music with a slow beat came from somewhere. The screen lit up to show two people walking hand in hand up marble steps that might have been Greek from the columns that showed in the background. They wore airy robes that flowed in draperies to their feet. The man was very young... a boy only and the woman mature with a beautiful carriage and a magnificent figure.
They walked into the temple and stood by a deep bath. The boy reached out, pulled a cord, and her robe fell to expose her majestic naked body. She walked into his arms, pressing her breasts and loins up to him as she kissed him deeply. Then she stepped back and jerked his robe from him to show that his cock had jerked fully upright from just one kiss. He looked embarrassed 'til she caught it in her hand, skinned it expertly and dropped in front of him to take it in her mouth. A visible ripple went through him from head to toe. His hips thrust forward to shove it further in her mouth.
She stood up laughing and threw herself in his arms again. Then she pulled him over to a long carved couch. She sat down and cradled his head in her arms and gave him her breasts to suckle.
Lillian squirmed back on the pillows, her eyes glued to the celluloid lovemaking. So this was what Fredric had planned. She didn't see how this could help except to embarrass everyone. She could feel her own moistness starting between her thighs sheltered under her robe. When she leaned back she found Andrew's hard young body against her back, his hand along the edge of the lounge. It was more comfortable but she knew it was dangerous. She was heating up and he was only a boy with his mother and Pete right over there. She glanced over to see Pete's mouth sunk on Jessica's and his hand inside her robe, obviously cupping one of her breasts. And he had called her a slut when he was just as bad or worse! Where was Yvonne... and Fredric! She strained her eyes in the dim candlelight but they had vanished.
A nose was nuzzling her neck and a hot breath whispered, "Oh please, Lillian, let me hold you." Andrew's strong young arms came around her. Again he reminded her of Pete... something in his begging young voice. She stiffened. My God! She must be a slut to want those hard young arms even tighter around her. As if she were in a trance, she looked over at Pete to see his head buried in Jessica's robe, his mouth on her breast and Jessica's lusting face thrown back in passion. Lillian caught Andrew's hands and jerked them to her... feeling his palms close convulsively on both breasts. "Oh, Lillian," he whispered hoarsely. Her nipples hardened through the silk at the hungry warmth of his hands.
She looked at the screen as Andrew's hands began to course her body through the silk, but that was no help. The woman on the screen was splayed out on the couch and the boy was shaving away her pubic hair.
Curls of it fell before his razor, exposing more and more of her cunt with each swipe. She'd read that the ancient Greeks shaved their pubic hair.
She felt Andrew twist her cruelly to him and find her mouth. He was thrusting his tongue deep in her throat in mock copulation. She couldn't breathe except raggedly through her nose and her head was swimming with the alcohol.
Pete felt the woman Jessica trembling violently, responding to his hands and mouth and arms. He wondered vaguely where Yvonne was but he couldn't stop to look. This was a woman... a full voluptuous woman who responded to his slightest touch. He pulled his mouth away from her breast inside her robe. His cock was jerking under his own robe like a wild thing. He paused, looking down at her and drinking in her beauty by the dim candlelight, the beauty she helplessly displayed, her great almond eyes wide and desirable, her ripe moist lips parted, her pointed breasts rising and falling provocatively...
"What... wh... what are you doing?" she whispered, gaping up at him with a full passion that made nonsense of her words.
"Looking at you and wondering where I can be alone with you... and a lot of other things as well." The words were thick in his mouth. Straining his eyes in the dim light, he thought one of those screens might do to fold around the couch. Then he saw his mother, head thrown over the back of the couch, her robe pulled down around her waist and Andrew's handsome young head moving from one of her full breasts to the other, sucking them as though they were full of nourishing milk. Hell, the old lady was making out, he giggled to himself. Could it be only a few days ago when he'd gone mad with rage and jealousy when he'd seen the doc fucking her? Let Andrew have her... let the doc have her, he thought hazily. I got my own mother-warm tits right here. He slipped down to gather Jessica in his arms. She opened her lips and sucked him to her and the hot lust flowed between them. The slow beating music was still coming from the screen but he didn't bother to look now. He had a hot one right here. Shit! He wasn't sure he could hold back before he ever got it into her. If this was transference... right on!
Pete lay with her, pressed half onto her. She was eating his face, sucking and nibbling his tongue with that red mouth of hers... trying to maneuver him on top of her. She wanted his blistering aching cock inside her fevered cunt! He ground his still growing hot pole against her hip and outer thigh, his brain spinning at the incredible events leading up to this. His own mother about to be shagged by Andrew while he was getting ready to fuck his own mother. No, Andrew's mother. Christ, he couldn't even think straight!
"You're going to be my baby," she whispered.
God damn right! He jerked her robe back to reveal her magnificent naked body. His greedy eyes swept lustfully over her fully ripened contours as waves of seething desire charged through him. High fully rounded breasts, an incredibly small waist that flared to full ivory hips and then downward to the unbelievable sweep of long perfect thighs and legs. She parted those legs and he could see the soft dark pubic hair surrounding the pinkness of her vaginal slit, already wet with tiny drops of moisture. She was like a lewd lasciviously beautiful picture, her pale naked glowing body framed in the vibrant coral brocade.
Her breath was coming in little shuddering sighs that rippled through her, her great eyes never leaving her face. It was as though a statue of the virgin had come to life and was pulsing in voluptuous passion for him alone. She reached up one hand and outlined his great throbbing prick under his robe. Christ! She almost set him off. He sat up and pulled his robe from him. This was no time for confinement.
As he did he couldn't help but see the screen love-making going on. The larger-than-life woman up there was sucking the guy's rod that looked three feet long, fondling his balls 'til he looked like he was going out of his mind. Suddenly he pushed her down and she pulled his head to her wide-open splayed cunt that glistened, sopping with lubrication. Pete had never seen a cunt that naked, that wide, that huge, that complete. She was more naked than any female he'd ever seen. The outer lips, the inner lips, the clitoris.
Shit! She had no pubic hair... clean as a whistle. She'd been shaved! But she'd had hair at the beginning of the picture. He must have missed something.
A hand suddenly slid down his cock, strutting out of his lap in a thick rod. God-d-d. Then Jessica's black hair was falling over his lap as she nibbled the end of his cock, making little mewling noises. Pete felt an uncontrollable spasm of blistering delight as her little snake tongue lashed around and around the sensitive glans. Her tongue then began a swirling gyration as she sucked further and further 'til his throbbing cock was deep in her throat. Christ! He was going to shoot his load like a damn school kid. How did he make her stop and yet keep her doing it?
At last she withdrew her head, sucking him to the very tip... then she flung herself back on the couch and spread her arms and legs open to him.
"Christ!" Pete blurted and flung himself on her, his mouth finding her waiting one, his tongue exploring the still poignant taste of his own cock there, which only added to his ballooning desire.
Pete slid over her, couching himself between her legs, and her whole body undulated up to him, the bowl of her milk-white belly quivering tightly to him in an agonized dance.
Wedging his hands farther down under her, he cupped her full voluptuous buttocks, pulling her wet, dripping crotch up even tighter against him. He drew his pulsing penis into the splayed little chink of her velvet-soft cunt, sliding it back and forth, back and forth. The throbbing pink mouth flowed more and her ass rotated urgently against his massaging prick head that was right on the erect little clitoris.
"Oh-h-h, baby," she sighed. "I've got to have it. Hurry and shove it in me."
Open-mouthed, he kissed her and pointed the lust-flamed stalk of his hard aching cock right at her dripping grasping vulva. Taking a deep breath, he lunged and felt the walls of her sucking channel accept him right up to the hilt, his pubic hair and hers making tangled contact.
"God, oh God, oh God," she cried.
"Oh God!" Lillian moaned, but she wasn't sure the sound came from her own throat or from across the room.
Andrew's young red lips were sucking the very marrow out of her body through her right nipple, sucking voraciously as Pete had done when he was a baby, making mewling contented noises deep in his throat.
Then he moved to the left one and sucked hard, the tip of his tongue tantalizing the vibrantly sensitive hard erect nipple, making her vagina suck in hard in hopes there'd be a long throbbing cock there. Oh, there had to be soon. She'd lose her mind! She clutched his curly dark head to her, ramming his handsome young face against her gorged swollen breast 'til he sank his teeth around her nipple. "Yessssssss, that's it," she urged, feeling the hot mouth and sharp teeth send shooting sparks through her delight-drenched loins.
She ran her hands down his beautifully muscled young back to his lean buttocks. She was going to teach him all the lovely things she'd just learned. Reluctantly she removed him from her breast to help him strip off his robe.
The screen was still shining hard and bright and the screen lovers were still at it... larger than life. Lillian heard Andrew gasp as a close-up of the woman's shamelessly shaven cunt came into focus... filling the screen in all its lewd wet pulsating glory. The boy's head came into the frame and the camera closed in on his lips and tongue that clamped on the inviting, sucking vulva, and his tongue shot out to titillate her clitoris and then his lips slid and clamped tight but you could tell from his mouth movements he was fucking his tongue into her in deep lascivious thrusts.
Enough of this make-believe fucking! She slid her robe the rest of the way off and turned to Andrew. It was as though a charge jolted through him. He strained her to him 'til she thought her ribs would crack and that his tongue would gag her so deep in her throat. He fell back with her on top of him. No one had to tell him what to do with his hands. They were pressing and cupping and smoothing her, but she had to see that monstrous cock she could feel against her belly. As she sat up it sprang up from his loins, huge, resilient, throbbing and mammoth. She'd never be able to contain it all! Her hands came out to stroke it and it jerked wildly at her touch. She knew what she wanted to do... kiss it and suck it as she'd seen the woman on the screen do... but she'd never had a penis in her mouth. Gordon had wanted her to suck him and she had called him all the vile names the vile act implied. Yvonne had done it to Pete. Tentatively she lowered her head and took the throbbing, weeping Cyclops head of Andrew's gigantic penis in her lips. He jerked up, half-sitting in a spasm, screaming, "AHG-GH-GH-GH-GH!"
She pulled her mouth away. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, no, please... please... again," he panted, begging. Obligingly she ovaled her lips around the bulging head and tasted the rutting young liquid oozing from the head, her tongue lapping and swirling around.
Delight surged through her very veins and she sucked his great shaft further and further into her throat. "So beautiful," he moaned as she screwed herself around 'til her ass was closer to his head and arm, never letting up on slicking and sucking his mighty manhood.
She found his hand and guided it to her frantic cunt that was sucking inward in agonizing pulls. There. His finger found her sopping slot and he finger-fucked her grasping, churning pussy in time to her voraciously sucking mouth on his cock.
God, the ravishing sensation of his great throbbing rod in the cavern of her throat that almost strangled her.
Poor Gordon, she realized now how cold she had been to him. Now when it was too late. God, what she'd missed. Had she known, had she been a full woman, she might have had him still but she'd lost him through her own stupidity. She'd give anything to be able to suck him now and let him suck her. God, it would be glorious!
Lillian ground her quivering aching cunt up to his finger while she ate his long spearing cock. Andrew groaned as she dug the tips of her teeth gently into his resisting flesh. In increasing fury she lashed her tongue around the glans, her head bobbing faster and faster, bloating her cheeks with the full length of his cock. Andrew raised his loins and drove his shaft in further and then in an agonizing lunge clamped his mouth where his racing finger had been. Lillian arched and screamed as his tongue found her erect clitoris, his mouth grinding down on her cunt lips. She felt their twinning vibrations quicken to a white heat.
Sucking his shaft to the tip she pulled her mouth off long enough to gasp, "Got to have it in me. Fuck me.
Quick. Fuck me!" His tongue was still driving into her as if he hadn't heard, as if delirious in his frantic sucking of her cunt. Shaking, she leaned down and grabbed his beautiful young head and pulled him on top of her, spreading her thighs wide to hold him. She reached down between them and grabbed his slick wet prick, swollen to a rigid but vibrating thick rod. Putting it at her sopping pussy lips, she gasped, "There.
Shove it in there." His tongue drove into her mouth as his hips gave a mighty lunge, almost splitting her from stem to stern, and she could feel his cock slam against her cervix. God, it hurt! It hurt so good! Her legs wrapped around his hairy young calves and her hands found his lean hard buttocks like slabs of motorized granite to drive that shaft home. She ground her aching loins up to him in a wild circular rotation and clamped the muscles in her vagina in a rippling convulsion that made him scream into the cavern of her mouth. His hands dug under her to grab her ass and he clenched her up to him 'til she thought her pubic bone would crack. Oh, this delicious boy. Baby. Man. Great beautiful fucking man! She could feel his balls, heavy sperm-laden balls, slap hard against her anus.
She worked her legs back and forth, flailing hips working in time as he advanced the battering-ram cock and then retreated. Advanced and retreated. She felt his great rock hardness sliding in and out of her warm wet cunt and the seeping moisture from its lips dribbling between her legs.
As he fucked harder and harder, he began to chant, "I'm fucking, I'm fucking, I'm fucking," as though God had suddenly been revealed and a miracle was wrought.
Lillian heaved her hips in mighty lurches against his battering cock. Nothing mattered except the sperm- loaded balls whacking her ass mercilessly and his magnificent cock pounding her clenching hole. She wanted his white hot semen spurting deep into her belly and she was deliriously immersed in the delicious assault of his frantic cudgel. Soon, soon, soon, her brain signaled. Rising, rising, rising, a blood-tinged wave was going to crest and crash.
"NOW-YV-W-W-W-W!" she screamed. "CUM WITH ME! CUMMMMMMMMM WITHHH MEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
"I'm cumming, CUM-MMMINNNGG," he screamed as she heaved upward in a mighty thrust, arching them both up in the air as though a sword had impaled them both through her hips and they hung quivering in the last agony of life.
Her nails dug his back in long furrows and her teeth sank into the rigid muscle of his shoulder. His hands clenched her buttocks convulsively as torrents of thick foaming semen gushed from his cock to surge through the depths of her body at the crest of a mighty wave. Her own juices kept pouring and pouring, hot bursting liquid that charged and mixed with his sperm in wild abandon. It pumped on and on in decreasing spasms.
"My darling, my baby, my Pete," she murmured incoherently.
He collapsed against her neck in utter and complete exhaustion, numb and still as a marble Greek god.
Jessica's wanton words resounded in Pete's ears as he dug his thick throbbing shaft even deeper into the furthest confines of her seething, sucking vagina that was milking the whole length of his rod like a clutching motor. Christ! He had to have a breather. He knew he couldn't last ten seconds this way. He turned his head away to blank his brain, but his eyes were met with the sight of his mother sucking Andrew's great cock as they lay on the couch across the room. Jesus!
His eyes flickered to the screen where the movie was still going on. The young boy was fucking the woman's asshole with enormous shattering thrusts and she was backing it to him in a crazed passion, her ass swinging as his hand finger-fucked her in front in perfect time. Turning his head back toward Jessica he saw Andrew was slaving with his lips and tongue over his mother's inflamed, dripping cunt while she clung to his giant pole with her mouth. Oh Christ! It was a goddamned orgy!
He pulled back 'til only the swollen bulging tip of his throbbing rock shaft was still inside her. Slow. Take it slow. Stretch it out. She was moaning and writhing beneath him, straining to get the rod back in to the hilt.
Her nails were digging into his ass, trying to force him back in all the way. God, she wanted cock. His cock.
Nothing else would do.
He struggled to control the building, mounting orgasm, trying to establish a rhythm, but her sucking cunt was drawing at the insides of his balls, His balls were slapping hard at the naked orbs of her ass, his rectum clenching spasmodically.
Pete could feel the whole of her belly opening like a lascivious orchid to receive his brutal onslaught. Her beautiful white body jerked and twisted and writhed as she ground her swollen pussy up to him, moaning incessantly, her oval Madonna face contorted in ecstatic passion.
His balls were going to split. He had to distract himself and yet keep her hot and going. That kid on the screen fucking the asshole! Pete reached under Jessica to find her rectum. There. A tiny crinkled crumpled petal wet with the secretions slithering down between her legs. He worked a finger gently into the opening that snapped like a million rubber bands. As he shoved his cock into her silky hot pussy, he stabbed his finger into her little wrinkled asshole.
"AGH-GH-GH-GH-GGGGG!" she screamed, arching up 'til both her legs were draped over his shoulders and her whole impassioned sopping cunt and asshole were in abject surrender to his assault. Oh God! It was beautiful fucking both her orifices at once 'til he could feel simultaneously his cock and his finger driving in wild unison deep into her soft warm tight moist body.
"Please... please," she was sobbing. "No, no... no-o-o-o-o!" Her voice wailed up like a banshee and trailed off as her heels locked behind his neck, striving to remove his driving finger in her ass and still retain that cock she wanted so bad deep in her cunt. The waggling of her ass only caused his finger to thrust even deeper in her bowels. Suddenly the sphincter muscle gave way before his merciless pounding and soon Jessica was crooning and writhing in a snaking rotation of her wide-spread soaking cunt and ass that telegraphed to Pete she was loving it... all of it.
"Darling... harder... harder," she was panting. "Fuck my ass harder." Her eyelids were flickering in a passionate rapture and her nostrils flared like a wild mare. Her asshole clenched on his pounding finger as though it were trying to chew it up while his cock beat a ceaseless drumming of lust against her upturned cunt.
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHH... OOOOO... OOOOOOOOOO," she chanted in a liturgy of passion, the tempo speeding up as her body took over entirely.
And Pete, hearing that chant, felt the gates of heaven begin to open within him. He drove it into her with everything he had, feeling her hot inner flesh massaging, sucking at his almost exploding cock. He fucked into her frantically, ramming every centimeter of his great throbbing tool into her hot pleading willing pussy.
Pete could feel the velvet-and-shattered-crystal explosion begin somewhere in his spine. Quickly it spread to his balls. He clutched her ass tightly in both hands now. Her great amber eyes were unseeing smoked glass staring at a vision far beyond. Pete increased the intensity of his strokes. Oh Christ! He was going to come apart... asshole to apex.
Jessica's wildly thrashing ass waved from side to side in a frantic crazy screwing up and down on his pistoning cock. They were wrapped in the death grip of passion, flopping as though gasping their last breaths.
Pete heard a whimpering moan from her throat that started low and built like a mighty chord from a gigantic organ. "A... i... e... eeiiiiieeeeeaaaaeeeiii... eeee... iiiii... eeeee I'm CUMMMMMMMMMMMMIIINNNGGG!"
With a low gasp of ecstasy he exploded deep in the pulsating depths of her womb... his hot white lava erupting in great gushing spurts to mix with her juices in a boiling, swirling, bubbling cauldron of rapture.
He lay spent as a gasping fish on the beach, for the very essence of his soul was still spurting in smaller and smaller throbs as the ebbing tide withdrew further and further and further. Time had retreated too, and he could not grasp its significance. It was as though he too had gone backward to his beginnings and forward to his ends.
It might have been moments or years later that he felt her stir beneath him. He felt her lift his face and he opened his eyes to find her warm amber eyes looking soberly into his soul and she whispered, "I am ready to let you go." He felt freed and strong and able to soar, though the words seemed to be for someone else.
CHAPTER NINE
Gordon Atherton drove up and down the black streets of Carmel in his rented car. God he was tired... bone tired... his nerves edgy with exhaustion. He hadn't planned on driving down from the San Francisco airport, but the fog had come down like a curtain over Monterey and Carmel. The planes couldn't land so he was stuck in San Francisco. There was nothing for it but to take the limousine the airlines people offered or rent a car. Riding with a bunch of strangers in the stuffy black hole of a limousine was not his idea of travel.
He peered out at a post on the corner but couldn't make out what it said. Christ! Not a street light anywhere.
He slammed the unfamiliar Plymouth forward and drove on.
What the hell was he doing here anyway? He'd called her from New York... no answer. He'd called from the S.F. airport... no answer... and he'd called the minute he pulled into this damn burg... and Lillian still didn't answer her phone or else she just didn't stay home a lot. So what was he doing driving around in the dark trying to find a house she'd rented?
The fog was thicker than ever. He'd never get anywhere in this soup without some help. He found the main street and found the police station with the help of a funny-looking Chinese with a drooping goatee.
Sliding a piece of paper with a clear hand-drawn map on it across the counter, the sergeant grinned, "That'll take you to San Antonio Street... but it won't help you much in locating a particular house. As I told you... you can't get Doc Herndon at night except through his answering service. His home phone's unlisted and so's the one at Ramaden Centre down the coast. And from what I've heard about that place," he chuckled, "I guess it ought to be."
Gordon pulled his hand out of the pocket where he'd put the map. "That so? Something special?"
"Well, I don't know," the sergeant drawled. "Lots of famous psychiatrists and sociologists and all give lectures down there. Lots of rich people pay through the nose to go to them. All that sensory awareness stuff. Had a big spread on it in Life not long ago. Folks 'round here though seem to think it's just a pretty fancy place with a lot of fancy names for all the shenanigans that guys used to go to whorehouses for." He winked. "Know what I mean?"
Gordon frowned. "Yeah, I know what you mean." Maybe his crazy hunch that had brought him on this wild goose chase had been right. Lillian had gotten herself mixed up with something, it looked like, and just might need his help. That's what had brought him out. She'd sounded so helpless on the phone. Just the sound of her voice... not what she'd said.
"Look, you've been a big help, sergeant. Could I impose on you for one more thing? Well, a couple, really?"
"Sure thing."
With the sergeant's help Gordon found a single motel room for the night, a pretty good steak sandwich, and the right road to Dr. Herndon's house... plus the exact location of Ramaden Centre.
His headlights showed a carved wooden sign saying HERNDON at the very top of this mountain road he'd been on for what seemed like ten minutes.
The whole place had an air of mystery which was only intensified by the Japanese man who answered the door. Gordon explained who he was looking for.
"Doctor not at home." The man started shutting the door in his face, but Gordon was faster with his foot.
"Look. I told you I want to find the doctor tonight. If he's not at home... where can he be reached?"
The man looked sullenly at him. "Doctor not at home," he repeated.
"Look. My stepson is a patient of his. I want to find him." Gordon pulled out a twenty.
The man drew himself up... insulted.
"How about Ramaden?" Gordon asked suddenly. The man's eyes gave him away though he still insisted, "Doctor not at home."
Gordon thanked him and left. Driving down the mountain, he was still debating with himself. It was crazy to go driving off down the coast on a dangerous unfamiliar road to Ramaden and maybe still not locate Lillian.
Go back to the motel and get some rest. That woman must really have her hooks into you or you wouldn't even be considering such a crazy jaunt. Maybe really just wanted to see the place... that fancy whorehouse.
Christ, he was horny enough to need one.
Lillian thought the people at Ramaden a strange and motley crew. She'd never seen such a collection of... well... weirdos. They seemed to come from every nationality and every size and shape imaginable.
American housewives, bearded college professors, Indian Sikhs, Afro-coiffured Negroes, pig-tailed Chinese, English near royalty, South American Indians. Mankind came in such incredible diversity of form, and it was a shock when you saw so many of them assembled.
Her eyes focused on Fredric as he talked to the group. His head looked bony and rather saintly against the soft halo of light coming from above and behind him.
"Focus your awareness on what you are feeling. Communicate your feelings without words to the people you love around you. Let them know with your body. Know them with your body in all the ancient beautiful ways. There is no judge, no watcher. Love with your true soul... your body. You are purged of words... of reason. Now feel!"
As he stepped down, people began turning to each other, hugging and kissing. Fredric walked over to Lillian and dropped down beside her on the huge mattress-padded platform. It was only one of the three-sided rooms that opened their fourth sides to the enormous pool that glittered in the moonlight. It was amazing what people would do, Fredric though, if you only prepared them properly. Lillian saw that Fredric was beside her as naked as everyone else. He took her hand and tongued the palm, sending tiny explosive vibrations through her body. Then he took that hand and wrapped it closely around his huge rising penis.
It felt huge and hard and lusty in Lillian's hand. She wanted it to get even bigger and held it tight, skinning it up and down so the head began to weep a slow liquid ooze. Fredric's hands were now free to manipulate her beautiful rose-tipped breasts to rock-hard red poker-pointed readiness. His tongue found her waiting mouth and she sucked it eagerly into hers, all the while feeling his rod swelling to monstrous proportions under her hands, slicking it up and down in a quickening rhythm.
Jessica loved the sight of her white body in the moonlight, lying between a huge black man's thighs. She had thrown herself on him, tongue sucking in a voracious simulation of copulation into his great fleshy-lipped mouth, her white breasts mashed against his heavy-breathing black chest and feeling his huge cock ballooning to a monstrous blood-gorged instrument against her belly. That belly was churning in lewd excitement of anticipation as his great black hands clutched the moon-white orbs of her round ass in a lusting vise. The whites of his eyes grew even rounder as she pulled her mouth away and slid herself down between his thighs to lie and ponder the great thick shaft and bulbous head of his great black cock that stood up like a huge hammer from his loins. She lowered her head and took the bittersweet black cock in her white cheeks, ovaling her red mouth around it lovingly.
Pete found himself pinned down by four women. Yvonne had stroked and fondled him to bucking readiness and then saucily lowered herself on his air-spearing cock, impaling her pink, wet gorged cunt on his enormous aching rod. "Oh God, yes, baby. You captain this one. It's good this way."
She ground her hips in a circular little dance that set his own hips arching up in an abandoned response. "I thought you'd like this," she smiled happily, feeling his enormous prick jerk and probe 'way up in her belly, filling her hole completely and beautifully.
His hands thumbed and kneaded her knobbed hard nipples and breasts to mottled excitement... and they began to moan and murmur their rising enchantment. One very deep grind of her loins shoved his aching cock in her pulsing, clasping pussy even further 'til he felt it was going to come out the back of her head. Involuntarily both his hands flung out beside him to spread in a T-bar as though he were being crucified.
Suddenly he found the fingers of both hands touch silky wet cunt lips. He jerked his head to find that the twins, Sue and Carol, had lowered themselves on his ecstasy-stretched hands.
"Fuck us too," they begged prettily, splaying their perfectly formed cafe au lait thighs so he could sink the middle finger of each of his hands in their pink desire-drenched cunts. He looked up guiltily at Yvonne, but she was screwing up and down his great throbbing pole in great delight. Seeing his look, she said, "It's all right, darling. It's where it's at... loving everybody. Feel free."
"Jesus!" he groaned, sliding his fingers in the wetly ready pussies of the twins. "What a way to cum. What a way to love!"
They were fucking happily when he saw two naked thighs kneel on each side of his head. The wet slick fur-ringed cunt between them was open to his view... and glinting invitingly in the soft light.
Pete looked up at the overhanging cunt, wide open and ready for whatever he wanted to offer. The slick red lips of the swollen vagina were shining from her vaginal secretions and the tiny clitoris quivered as he watched. He had never even imagined a cunt being offered to him so sensuously. He couldn't let that go by.
"Come here, lover, whoever you are," he invited, looking straight up as the cunt mouth dangled so enticingly over him. A face bent down where the cunt had been to smile, "It's Dahlia, Pete, from the seminar this morning. The lovely Filipino doll with the incredible high pointed breasts that ended in swollen nipples that almost folded back inward at the tips and the white-toothed smile and flashing black eyes that made the sun come up.
"Come here, Dahlia, baby. Put your sweet little pussy right here." She giggled delightedly and lowered her wet naked pussy to his face. She squirmed and squealed as his teeth clamped on the clitoris, moaning when his tongue lashed madly around the swollen gland. He thought she was going to faint when he clamped his lips tight around the clitoris and sucked it like a miniature cock. Driving his tongue deep in through the vaginal lips, he tasted the ambrosial nectar of her delicious little cunt. He scoured and licked and sucked and teased and it shot the mercury of his own desire raging even higher.
Yvonne was mewling in rapture at the exquisite sensations that came from sliding up and down Pete's pole like soft butter. Pete could feel every jumping little muscle, every twitching little nerve in her greedy and voracious pussy. He could feel the head of his cock hit against her cervix. Then she stopped moving and sat there, letting her uterine muscles do all the work. Pete groaned deep in his throat, his mouth full of Dahlia's wet grinding cunt. It was as though hundreds of greedy leeches were working on his cock while Yvonne sat absolutely still. Pete couldn't see the twins but his fingers were being sucked madly by the two sopping burning cunts. He shoved his fingers in as deep as he could reach and found the clitoris of each with his thumbs He was rewarded by two squirming, screwing cunts arched up to try and encompass his hands, to swallow them whole. "AHHH," one of them moaned. "OHHHHH," echoed the other. He wondered fleetingly if they did everything together.
Pete sucked Dahlia greedily, probing deeply up inside her pulsing pink pussy with his hard tongue, listening to her building groans of delight. He could hear Yvonne's breathing become loud and uneven in deep gasping gulps of air as she began to bounce up and down on his maddened prick, using straight jabs and wild rotary grinding movements.
He knew Yvonne was almost to her climax and he was reining in a little to keep pace with her for he knew he could cum any second. Thrusting his tongue deep in Dahlia, he lashed her cunt wildly and finger-fucked the twins furiously with both hands. It would be wild if he could make them all come together. He increased his efforts to bring them off. His fingers made soft sucking sounds as he fucked the twins' dripping salacious pussies and his face was drenched with Dahlia's secretions as he sucked and lunged his frantic tongue in her squirming cunt. Pete could feel Yvonne moan as she was savagely impaled in one great slam on his thundering cock. The twins and Dahlia were moaning and writhing incoherently and he dug faster and harder and harder with his tongue and fingers.
Yvonne arched then and screamed, "C-U-M-M-M-M-M-M-... Please... CUMMMMMM... NOWWWWWWWWW!"
The moment she started screaming and straining like a bucking horse, arching and falling further downward each time, Pete felt the twins' cunts butting wildly over his fingers and the wet sucking walls pulling on them in rapture. Simultaneously, Dahlia buried her cunt in his face, screaming, "OHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," like a wail from beyond the grave.
His cock thundered like an express train through the clenching tunnel of Yvonne's open cunt. He could feel his balls growing and straining, his penis expanding 'til it was bursting the warm walls of Yvonne's cunt... and then he was CUMMMMMIIINNNNGGG! They were all cumming just as he had hoped! He groaned his powerful release deep in Dahlia's milking cunt that was pouring her orgasmic juices all over his face. Semen roared like a snorting bull held back too long, down the hot corridors of his pent-up penis to spurt a sensuous racking havoc through Yvonne's writhing moaning body. His hands were drenched in the love juices of the twins as their cunts milked and sucked his fingers like two hungry waifs. They were wailing their release in an eerie keening as his cock continued to gush and spurt.
Pete felt powerful and alive and masterful. He'd brought it off! Satisfied four women at once! God, this was free and easy loving. They rolled off him exhausted and spent except for Yvonne who fell forward on his chest like a little girl seeking shelter.
Lillian felt the easy, dreaming, warming bliss of Fredric's preliminary lovemaking begin to heat her beyond that point. He was lying between her legs on top of her, fucking her ears, her mouth with his hard lusting tongue, laving her face and throat with kisses. She could feel the great log of his male organ expanding against her naked belly as his balls lay on the warm wet lips of her cunt. She was feeling! Since Fredric she'd learned to feel... to really feel! Oh God, he'd done so much for her. She'd been a dead and wretched bitch before Fredric. Oh, she wanted to do something beautiful for him. She wanted to show her appreciation, to thank him, to grovel for him.
Suddenly she knew what she wanted to do for him. "Fredric darling... please...." she whispered against his questing mouth. "I want to suck your cock. I want to lick you... suck you 'til you cum in my throat... please... please, darling."
He pulled up and stared at her with his mesmerizing eyes. "Don't say it... do it, Lilli, baby. Do it for me. Suck me good."
Pillows were being shoved under her head and Fredric then slid up to lock his knees in her armpits and there right under her nose was his huge pulsing, blood-gorged, vein-laced cock. Close up it looked enormous and she wondered even if she could suck it... but she must... for him. For a brief moment a surge of near-panic swept over Lillian as she realized there was no escape now. Tentatively she reached out a hand and stroked it experimentally.
She felt him writhe and heard him groan when she drew back the foreskin from its glistening head, exposing the pulsing glans. She manipulated the thick outer flesh back and forth, her mind concentrating on the lewd tool 'til finally there was nothing but the hard, hot sensation of his huge cock in her tiny hand. Then she moved her face forward hypnotically.
She heard him choke in anticipation as some unexplainable desire eased her legs out 'til they were splayed out unseen. Lillian drew in her breath and flicked out her tongue on the soft velvet tip and swirled slowly.
She felt him jerk and moan as her tongue tip found the tiny orifice at the head of his cockhead and burrowed into it. She tasted the male tang seeping in seminal fluid droplets from the little slit, and excitement washed through her. She licked along the soft underside of his veined cock and then slowly back to its coronal rim, then forward once more to the thick base and on to the soft bloated sac of his balls, drawing her nails gently under them and weighing their hot heaviness in the palm of her hand with slavelike affection.
Her other hand drew the foreskin back 'til the heavy head stood up proud and naked. Eagerly she took the hard purple head in her mouth, letting the burning shaft glide the full length of her tongue as her ovaled mouth took more and more of it. She could taste his oozing drops of seepage, pungent and lust-inciting.
Fredric groaned as she labored on the end of his aching lusting prick, her beautiful face obscenely distorted as she tried valiantly to get all of his cock in her mouth. He eased his hands around her head, his fingers meshed in the fragrant pale hair, palms against her jaws to guide her lovely face as he began a slow undulation with his hips, sliding his thick lust-swollen cock in and out of her mouth with a lewd sucking sound. Fervently her cheeks puffed as she performed the lewd toil and his hips irresistibly shoved his throbbing cock between her lips in a mounting, quickening fury.
Lillian couldn't resist the obscene stimulation the sucking of Fredric's cock was bringing her. The fleshing rod heaved in and out of her eager wanting mouth and perverse and wanton rapture, the sensation of intemperate lasciviousness raced insanely through her belly and loins.
Her long thighs spread unconsciously wide as she clung to his balls with her delicate hands and sucked joyously. She would never have imagined that sucking Fredric could bring her such sheer bliss. She'd wanted to do something for him and found in doing so she also received a bounty.
Eagerly she explored every ridge and wrinkle of his thick cock head. Her tongue licked ferally at the blood- gorged head, probing again and again the tiny split while her pussy grew moist and exquisitely fevered.
There was a great aching hollow between her legs that needed filling.
Miraculously she felt someone lie down between her lonely thighs and a hot breath blew against her inflamed pussy. Suddenly she felt strong palms pressing against the softness of her inner thighs, moving them even wider apart, and her brain reeled erotically in lewd anticipation.
She lurched and groaned on the hot cock in her mouth as moist fevered lips closed on the desire-drenched mound between her legs. Damp taunting kisses were being lavished on the hair-rimmed lit of her tingling cunt... more gentle and beautiful kisses than she had even imagined... teasing loving kisses on the closed lips of her heated pussy... until at last his tongue parted the gilt pubic hair and began to snake at the delicate opening. Whose tongue? She strained to see around Fredric and then the hot mouth left her heated cunt long enough to grin up at her. Andrew! DEAR darling Andrew!
When he returned to the wild pleasurable licking of her pussy lips, it was even better than before. Choking moans of delight gurgled from her too-full-of-cock quivering mouth and every muscle in Lillian's body reacted to the crazed pleasures of Andrew between her legs and Fredric between her cheeks. She felt the apex of sexual enchantment wakening within her. She wondered vaguely if she'd go mad with the ecstasy of it.
Engulfed in the vortex of swirling enchantment, her mind suddenly blank to all else except the building tempestuous sensuality that was firing her whole voluptuous body aglow.
She could feel and hear Andrew's panting as he spread the fleshy hair-fringed flanges of her moist pink slit open with delicate fingers and she heard him grunt in lusting and felt him drop his head and draw his poker- hot tongue up through the exposed wet coral flesh of her velvet flowering cunt.
"OH-H-H-H-HHHHHHH," she choked and slaved over Fredric's cock, gently raking her teeth down the thick trunk. She wanted his great load of thick hot cum to shoot and spurt deep into her belly. She wanted it to be so beautiful for him as she knew it was going to be beautiful for her.
Jessica had lain for some time completely entwined with the black man after he'd made her cum three times and his own gigantic explosive orgasm had so exhausted him that he lay as though dead. Drowsily she watched the spectacle going on all around her. Couples, threesomes, foursomes, daisy chains of bodies linked by faces buried in genitalia.
She saw Lillian spreadeagled with Andrew sucking her between the legs in wild concentration and Fredric kneeling over her chest and fucking his great cock into her eager mouth. Inexplicably Jessica's fingers found her own still slippery pussy and began rubbing in and out in time with the beautiful gyrations she watched.
Oh, she wanted it. Ohhhh. She was never going to get enough to fill her aching hollow.
Gently she extricated herself from the arms of the black man and walked the few steps to the threesome.
She straddled Lillian's slaving, salivating face, spread her legs wider in front of Fredric's lewdly contorted face and presented him with her dripping salacious pink-fleshed slit of her starving cunt.
He gaped at the widespread pink aperture she held open to him and saw it glistening moistly with the viscous droplets of carnal desire. Her dilated vaginal mouth was actually twitching as she squirmed her lovely loins before him and he stared at its exposed, enticing beauties.
She caught his head in her hand and guided his face to her slick wet pink slot and he plunged the full length of his hot tongue into the quivering warm depths of her tightly clasping cunt.
He heard her moan and whimper, unintelligible words tumbling from her lips as her soft hands clutched at his head, her fingers tightly entwined in his hair: she continued to emit throaty animal sounds while she pulled his face forcefully into the splayed split of her sucking down-fringed cunt. He speared into the seething depths of her excited channel and she ground her hips, squirming and writhing as groans and mewling sounds poured from between clenched teeth.
She pressed his face into the hot sensitive vaginal walls opening and closing around his thrusting tongue.
Fredric's cock was jutting between his strong thighs like a frenzied stallion and Lillian sucked it hungrily, holding its heavy base with her hands to pull back the thick prepuce, sucking almost the whole length in her anxiously salivating mouth. She was aware that he was moaning into the hair-lined cunt of Jessica who stood with splayed thighs and slightly bent knees, straddling Lillian's head. Oh, it was beautiful. All and each, loving and loving. Not hating. Just loving.
Oh, this was going to be so beautiful for all of them... but it must be the best for Fredric... for dear Fredric who'd brought them all together for healing.
Her desire unbridled now, Lillian sucked his cock voraciously and deep into her hot saliva-filled mouth 'til she nearly choked. Tiny explosions of scintillating lust burst in her brain as he moved up and down... in and out of her mouth with his thick hard cock in a rhythm of his own while Andrew's lashing, probing tongue thrust deeper and deeper in her searing wet cunt.
If only she had let Gordon teach her when he'd wanted to. She'd do anything for him now... anything he asked her... but he was gone. Gone forever. These thoughts flashed intermittently as she sucked with fury and love at the hard flesh rod that was brushing at her palate, while Andrew, with moist oral sounds, enchanted her naked voluptuous crotch.
Then another newer sensation of prurience registered in her lust-incited brain! She felt Andrew's finger working at the tiny puckered mouth of her rectum! Her breath quickened uncontrollably as she forgot all else... as he pushed the long invader right up into her rectum like another prick... all the way up to the cupping palm of his hand.
"AAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH," she grunted around Fredric's huge expanding cock in her mouth, but in ecstasy and delightful shock as her mouth and tongue momentarily stopped their sucking... for Andrew's intrusion into her asshole caused an immediate twinge of orgasm to start building in her belly and loins. She felt his handsome young mouth glued to the round elasticized hole of her cunt, his deep thrusting tongue swirling and lashing the sensitive walls in cadence to his finger-fucking into her asshole, and she began to nurse and suck the hot hard thickness of Fredric's cock with all of her feminine ability.
Lillian heard Jessica's howling moan that signaled she was reaching her peak. It was an eerie unearthly sound. "AHHHHH-OOOOOO-iiiiiii-EEEEE-OOOOO-EEEE!"
It was as though a chain reaction set in. Fredric knew Jessica was going to cum. She clutched his face against her dripping cunt with ferocious hands, her fingers clenching and writhing painfully in his hair. Every muscle and cord of her willowy body telegraphed the event to his lust-filled brain. He could scream with joy!
Her scream was a licentious plea that was too much for him. He felt the intricate organs of his inner manhood ferment at the peaking lewdness of her unintelligible sounds.
Fredric felt his massive cock swell in Lillian's voraciously sucking mouth... and then, he screamed a muffled cry in the convulsing vagina of Jessica. "GAAAAOOOODDDD!"
Lillian wasn't quite ready. Fredric's gigantic cock shot his cum down into the back of her throat in wild spurts of teeming liquid, gush after gush of the hot sweet male fluid, and then came the overwhelming explosion inside her that caused her entire body to shudder rapturously. Lillian half screamed and almost choked on the spewing masculine jets of cum spurting into her throat. Frantically she swallowed and sucked fiendishly again and again the flood of boiling semen squirting into the warm receptive shelter of her mouth.
Andrew was still playing his tongue skillfully around the outer portions of her clitoris and she never wanted him to stop. Never. Her mind played no part, she was feeling a second thunderous cataclysm. Dear God!
She was CUMMMMMING again!
Lillian's pelvis and cunt were still aching and trembling in the air with Andrew's sucking mouth still clamped to her. Jessica had sunk to her knees and then rolled away like a collapsed doll and was still on the mat.
Fredric had gushed and gushed into Lillian's mouth 'til his balls had been sucked completely dry and he rolled over to lie splayed and spent by her shoulder.
When at last Lillian lay still, her eyes closed and mouth slack, a little trickle of Fredric's cum drooling obscenely out the corner of her mouth, Andrew crawled up to lay his throbbing cannon-muzzle cock against her belly by lying on her. Hazily, Lillian felt the weight and struggled up from the deep valley of nearsleep.
Andrew. Dear darling Andrew. Poor baby. Everyone had cum off so beautifully except him, she realized, as she felt him point the blunted bloated head of his cock at her cunt and rise on his toes like a diver. She shuddered at his lust-contorted face. God, she didn't know if she could take any more, but dear God he'd been so lovely... making her cum twice in cataclysmic quakes.
Then she felt Andrew lunge forward and dive deep into her belly in one savage mighty stroke.
"Can't wait! CAN'T!" she moaned. His breath was ragged and tortured and he was fucking into her in wild and youthful abandon, his teeth bared and his eyes closed. Suddenly she felt his hands clutch her ass cheeks in a painful grip as he pulled her cunt up to his rampaging cock pistoning in and out in brutal assault.
"Darling, darling," he groaned. "Cum with me. CUM ON. CUM ON. TRY!"
Automatically her pelvis ground a circular motion and she felt his cock jerk deep up in her belly. Amazed, she found it felt so good and lovely all over again. She threw herself up to meet him, churning and arching wildly to keep the contact with her clitoris that was greedily clamoring again.
Abruptly he arched and screamed, shooting his hot boiling load too long denied. His hot mouth fastened to hers and his tongue fucked into her mouth as wildly as his prick into her cunt. My God, it couldn't be! This bucking young stud had triggered her again. She felt the gushing waves of sensation hit her again. She was cumming again!
Gasping and panting they lay, and their arms fell away, and incredible fatigue crushed them where they lay.
CHAPTER TEN
The sign came up too fast and Gordon hit the brakes and twisted the Plymouth violently, the tires screaming in protest, and the whole car leaning alarmingly as he corrected frantically and finally got it onto the steep driveway that led down a long incline to Ramaden Centre. Christ! His nerves must be shot. He'd almost lost it back there.
He slowed it to a crawl and inched along, bouncing on the poorly repaired road. It was dark as hell but he could see dim lights twinkling below him and a cluster of long and short buildings... low-lying and connected like a European village.
It was further away than he'd thought at first. But now that he was here, he was in no hurry. Years of practice in the law had taught him not to rush it when the cheese began to bind.
A blind rage had built up in him all the long drive down the coast. The frustrations of the day had pyramided, and the more he thought about his own crazy actions in the past day or so, the madder he got.
This drive down was the craziest thing yet. He'd almost creamed himself back there and he knew it was just nerves and rage and fatigue. He was maddest of all at Lillian. When he found her he didn't know if he'd be able to keep from shaking her 'til her teeth fell right out of her lovely head.
At last the lurching road brought him to a wide parking area. He ran his hands through his hair and reached for the tie on the seat beside him. Aw, the hell with it. He flung it back on the seat... and got wearily out of the car.
It was quite a way up to the main entrance but he finally found the heavy bark-covered door with a great iron latch. The place wasn't pretentious, that was for sure. He swung the latch and went into a small anteroom with a waist-high desk that barred the way to a huge beamed room beyond. Well, if it was a whorehouse it must have good personnel... it sure wouldn't make it on atmosphere or decor. It looked more like a rundown summer camp the highway had isolated.
Just as he was about to yell out, a door opened on the left behind the desk and a girl's head and shoulder appeared. She was fumbling to tie a blouse in a knot over her full breasts and she leaned in, her waist- length hair swinging forward. "Yes?" she inquired casually. She had the poreless translucent skin that sometimes came with chestnut hair and tilted gray-green eyes, heavily shaded with thick lashes. No makeup at all but she was still beautiful.
"I," he stopped as she finished knotting the blouse and came up to the counter. A long cotton skirt came down to her bare feet and swung as she walked. Her slim waist was bare between the skirt and the blouse that only emphasized the full pointed breasts. Yes, it must be the personnel. If she was the madame then he'd just skip the girls and take her.
"Yes?" she inquired again, this time softly, her little tongue flicking out to wet her pale lips. Her eyes said as plainly as any words could, "Not bad. Interesting, in fact." She looked him over quite frankly.
"This will sound like a strange request... but I'm trying to find my stepson. Pete Morgan. He's a patient of Dr.
Herndon's and... well, is he here?"
"Who?"
"Pete Morgan."
"Look, here's a stack of brochures. Why don't you take them along... and if you're still interested... mail us your registration."
Gordon shook his head and chuckled, "I don't know how we got started on non sequiturs, but we seem to have. The brochures are very informative, I'm sure." He put them back in her hand. "But that's not what I came for."
"It isn't," she smiled blandly at him.
"No, it isn't."
"That's strange. Usually that's what they come for... no matter what they ask for. That... and to get a look at the place." She waved her hand behind her airily.
He leaned on the counter so that his eyes were much closer to those luscious breasts. "Well, that's not why I came. Let's begin again."
She stood with her hands on her hips, "It's pretty late to begin anything," she said suggestively.
"Better late than never."
"You come on pretty strong, Mister...?"
"Atherton. Gordon Atherton. Look. When do you get off? Maybe I could buy you a drink." Maybe she talked with a few drinks.
"Angie." She was still out of sorts that she'd drawn desk duty tonight. The rest of them were in there balling away and she was stuck out here alone. But not anymore, she thought with satisfaction. She'd have her own little therapy session.
"You can't buy me a drink... but I can buy you one." She lifted up the desk top for him to come through.
She led him through a series of casual rooms furnished with what looked like early Salvation Army, then through a short breezeway, across a patio and into a cottage.
She turned on a few lamps and the book-lined walls and deep chintz chairs and sofas came to life. "Now for that drink." She slithered over to a large cabinet and opened the doors to reveal a full bar. "I don't always approve of drinking before fucking. Cuts down on performance... but you look tired."
Gordon froze in midstep. The casual way she used the lewd word galvanized his prick into stirring life.
Christ! She didn't waste any time. He'd never find out a damn thing this way.
She turned to hand him a healthy slug of brandy in a snifter. "Oh, wait." She took the glass from him and walked over to a couch. She set her glass on the table and put his right between the mountains of her breasts. "I forgot to warm it," she said huskily. She rolled the glass round and round and finally handed him the snifter of tit-warmed brandy. He took a long pull on the warm brandy and felt its glow hit his stomach gratefully.
He decided on the direct approach. She seemed to be frank enough. "After I have a couple of these brandies, I'm going to throw a fuck into you you'll never forget, Angie, baby... but I also want to know where Pete Morgan and his mother and Dr. Herndon are. So the order is... we drink, we fuck, and then we talk," he said, slugging down the rest of his brandy.
"Then by all means, let's drink."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"How did you know I was a cocksman, as you put it?" Gordon asked, watching Angie pad around the tiny kitchen, making coffee. She'd pulled on a soft blue silk robe and given him an old terrycloth one that was too short for him so a lot of hairy leg showed as he perched on a stool by the sink.
She turned to look at him seriously, swinging back the long ribbons of her hair. "Something about the way you looked at me, the way you moved. You were so square and kind of huffy and angry. A typical frog except that I could see you were just on the brink of breaking out."
"A typical frog?"
"That's Herndon's term. All the people who're so damned hung up on their lack of sex... waiting around for somebody to see and do something for them."
"You mean his patients?"
"Yeah... and most of the rest of the civilized world."
"So, what does the doc do for them... the patients?" Now he was getting somewhere... not that he hadn't before. He couldn't remember when he'd felt so high, contented and absolutely great. Maybe she was right.
Maybe he had been a frog.
"Simple," she snorted. "Just convinces them through a series of lectures and seminars to let go... hang loose... let themselves feel... do what they want to do anyway... fuck. That's what's wrong with every one of them that comes here... no matter what their complaint is... money, in-laws, kids... you name it... what they really need is some good old-fashioned fucking. Doc's a smart guy. He gives people what they want and they're happy to pay for it."
She put the coffeepot on a tray with cups and saucers, cream and sugar and a plate of sandwiches. Gordon followed her back to the living room, thinking hard about what she'd said. God knows what she said had certainly been true of Pete. That poor devil had been such a bastard and Gordon had dimly realized way back in his head somewhere at the time that it was because Pete was a virgin. He wasn't getting any. But Lillian? She'd never seemed to want it much. She'd tried hard to pretend for his sake... but somehow he couldn't for the life of him see her turning on... really turning on like Angie just did... to fucking.
They sat on the floor with their backs against chairs, stretching their feet to the fire. Gordon ate hungrily and drank the scalding coffee.
"You don't believe me, do you?" Angie asked over her cup.
"Sure, I do, Angie. It's just... well, I can't see Lillian... Pete's mother... well, turning on like that."
"You don't want to see," she accused. "All you guys. Great for you to fuck around but not your wife. Let me tell you something, Mr. Gordon Atherton. Women like to fuck as much as men do... or hadn't you noticed I turn on pretty good? What do you think they're doing in that seminar right now? Balling! That's what they're doing." A sudden picture of Lillian, naked and lovely, flashed into his head�_"and some guy fucking her. He felt his blood pressure rise. Angie was right. The thought made him mad as hell. He knew Angie liked to fuck. God damn! He'd just had one hell of a demonstration... but Lillian?
"Come on. I'll lock up and we'll go join them. Nobody's going to show up this time of night. Course, you did," she giggled, reaching over to pat his prick through the terrycloth robe.
"I don't even know for sure that Lillian and Pete are here."
She stood up, stacking the cups on the tray. "I'd say the chances are pretty good," she drawled on her way back to the kitchen.
He followed her, fighting a battle within himself. If what she said were true... could he stand it? Could he stand to see some guy balling Lillian? Could he stand to walk into what amounted to a god-damned orgy?
He could put his clothes on and leave. That's what he could do. But he knew he couldn't. Somehow he'd have to live through it.
As they came back to the living room he bent to pick up his clothes. Angie took them out of his hands and pressed her luscious barely covered body up to him. "Where we're going," she whispered, grinding the bowl of her belly up to him suggestively, "you won't need those."
After locking up, Angie led him through another series of rooms only this time to the right off the main room.
They finally emerged in what looked like a dressing room. Clothes hung everywhere. Other doors led into bathrooms he could see.
Abruptly Angie turned to face him and slowly untied the blue silk robe. Just as slowly she opened it to reveal her beautiful body and then let the robe slip to the floor behind her. She came toward him then and began pulling his robe from him. "You'd be overdressed in this crowd," she laughed, moving in close to kiss him. As if they had a will of their own his hands came up to cup her creamy buttocks. "MMMMMMMM," she whispered, tightening the muscles in her ass cheeks as she pressed to him. Her mouth opened under his and she sucked his tongue down her throat hungrily.
Gordon could feel his prick coming to life again. She felt it too, for her hand reached between them and she clamped her little hand around his cock and began stroking and jerking it to life again. When she had it hard and pulsing in her hand, she stepped back so that it poled out in front of him like a bull cock.
"There," she smiled in satisfaction.
"What the hell?"
"I had to prepare you before we go in," she giggled.
"I can't go into a roomful of strangers like this!"
"Don't worry. You'd be out of place without it... Oh, all right... here." She backed up to him and wrapped his arms around her so his hands cupped her breasts, his poling cock pressed against her buttocks. "Now, we'll walk through that door. Just hang on to me."
The sight that met Gordon's eyes was so incredible that he simply could not believe what he saw. He kept blinking and blinking but it didn't dissolve. Three-sided rooms opening off an enormous pool, and those rooms were covered with mattresses padding the floor wall to wall. On these padded floors were bodies... male and female in every conceivable position that the ages have devised. Christ! It looked like the drawings from Pompeii, descriptions from the Decameron... like Rome come to life. A cacophony of sound, babbles and screams and groans as orgasms were reached here and there. Pantings, growling, mewlings. It was a god-damned circus!
Every conceivable size and shape and color of human being from the palest white through all the browns and yellows to the deepest black... fucking in every imaginable way! By twos, by threes, by fours... he even counted six in a daisy chain. Gordon was both horrified, repelled, and yet strangely elated and excited. Soon Angie was no longer walking in front of his swaying hard erection. He would have been out of place in this crowd without it!
Suddenly Angie dropped to her knees between a woman's white legs that were splayed and writhing. A black man was straddling the woman and fucking the most enormous black cock into her mouth. The woman's flowing cunt was open for the world to see, juicy and pulsing and wanting. Angie obviously decided to help her out. Gordon saw her head dip down and lick the woman's cuntal slit from ass to clit. Gordon saw her arch and choke a cry of joy around that huge black cock fucking into her mouth as Angie began her licking, sucking machinations.
Jesus Christ! Gordon stepped over bodies to walk on. Whorehouse? A whorehouse was discreet compared to this. It was a god-damn flaming fucking orgy.
Suddenly Gordon stopped in his tracks. Pete! That punk kid was ramming his huge eighteen-year-old cock in a little redhead's asshole. She was bent over at the waist and her ass was in the air and Pete was tearing into her. Sodomizing her! Gordon could see him spread those little white cheeks and guide that impossibly huge cock into the girl's tiny crinkled brown anus. She was screaming with the pain and Pete was snorting and ramming her like a god-damn bull. Jesus! Gordon had never even done that himself though he'd wanted to... his New England conscience had always stopped him.
Even as he watched, Gordon's prick was jerking in front of him and his balls were on fire with a building ache. Seeing all the depravity around him, his body wanted to join in... but he had to find Lillian. He had to see with his own eyes what depths she might have sunk to.
God, then he saw her! She was on all fours like an animal over a man, sucking his cock like it was ambrosia, and the man's face was buried in her cunt licking and sucking frantically. Her long blonde hair was swinging as her head bobbed up and down, sawing that bastard's cock off. They were 69ing their heads off! What he'd begged for, pleaded for... and she'd called him an animal! God damn her soul!
A blind searing tearing rage shook Gordon, so engulfing he even saw the proverbial red behind his eyeballs.
He closed the few feet between himself and them in a leap. He grabbed Lillian by the arms and pulled her off the man to her feet. He was shaking her and screaming, "You god-damn whore!"
The man got up and patted Gordon's shoulder. "Take it easy, pal. There's plenty."
Gordon's arm shot out and caught the man across the chest, sending him flying in a heap across the mat.
"Go find yourself another cunt!" he snarled.
"Gordon darling." Lillian was crying and trying to cling to him.
He turned back with a snarl, feeling tears of outrage close his throat. "A god-damn rutting animal and you were too good, too pure, too saintly to even give me a decent fuck now and then."
"But, darling, please," she was sobbing, the tears pouring down her face. "Please, please. I love you. I was stupid and wrong. I know that now. I'll do anything... anything. Punish me... but please, please, let me love you." She was clinging to him in misery and anguish and he could feel her hot breasts against his chest. She clung like a leech. He shook his head, dazed, still blind with rage and hurt. Hurt! He hurt so bad he knew he was going to be sobbing too in another minute. Sobbing over this bitch he'd loved so much. He could feel the tears gathering like a storm deep in his chest.
"I'll never deny you anything again," Lillian sobbed. "Not anything. Do whatever you want. Please... please. Give me a chance, darling."
Another chance. Christ, he had to do something. That hurt in his chest had to be assuaged. His balls were on fire and his belly churning. He had to humble her, degrade her, hurt her as bad as she'd hurt him. Now while he had the chance... because he was never going to see her again. He couldn't. And then it came to him. She was reaching for his mouth and pleading and sobbing. He crushed his mouth to hers in one last long kiss, bruising her lips, bending her to him, his arms and hands biting into her beautiful body brutally.
Then he tore his mouth away and rasped out, "Turn around. On your knees."
For the first time she obeyed him instantly. She was kneeling with her back to him, her shoulders still shaking with sobs. He dropped to his knees and bent her forward at the waist.
"Now shove your ass back here."
She looked over her shoulder in terror. "What are you going to... to do?"
Gordon slapped her hard across the ass. "I said, shove your ass back. Spread your knees, bitch."
Dear God, he was going to do it. But she did what he ordered. She loved him and she'd lose him forever if she refused him anything now.
Gordon felt a surge of new blood racing toward the throbbing head of his extended cock. He kneed himself up between her widespread thighs and open buttocks. He had seen her moist cunt and the small puckered hole between her luscious ass cheeks. Gordon grasped his cock in his hand and dipped the head between the crinkled virginal lips of her anus.
Then without benefit of any mercy, Gordon thrust forward, and Lillian felt an agonizing pop and stretching at her rectal mouth. She clenched her hands into fists and her breath wadded in her throat as a vicious spasm of pain went through her, so unbearable that she twisted and half-screamed. She waggled her bottom to get free of the wickedly torturous cock that was reaming her backside.
Oh, God... dear God. He was going to split her wide open back there, she realized in sudden horror, her rounded white buttocks beginning to thrash insanely, and then she heard him laugh or was it sob, his strong hands gouging into the tender flesh of her hips. God! He was holding her viselike, and her every attempted move only drove his huge rod of solid flesh deeper and deeper inside her cringing passage.
"Shove your ass back on it," Gordon commanded, grasping at her tensed upper thighs and straining his hips forward. "You said you'd do anything! Well, this is for all the misery you've handed me, baby."
"Oh... Oh, God," Lillian choked, unable to restrain the tears of agony or the guttural moans of shame. But could she stand it? He's ripped me all open back there. OHHHH, he's tearing my rectum apart. Oh, God.
He's punishing me. Oh, God, he's punishing me! But I deserve it. I want him to. I want it. Punish me, darling.
Punish... me!
Lillian tried to hunch back as he thrust forward and she felt the excruciating torment of his thick throbbing cock going into her, pushing the resisting flesh before it 'til at last, with one lunge, he ground it all the way up inside the warm tight vise of her stretched rectum.
Her poor brain reeled with the masochistic torment. Then she felt his pelvis push solidly into her soft white rounded buttocks, his balls whanging against the spread flushed lips of her pussy below. She was impaled, afraid to breathe with the terrible wracking pressure that felt as if her thighs were going to split apart.
Lillian felt torn from Gordon's invasion, but strangely Gordon's cock buried in her ass brought a sensation of atonement.
She deserved it. She knew that. She'd nearly ruined both their lives by being such a selfish egotistical fool.
She'd crawl to him, endure anything... even this, if he'd have her now. She gritted her teeth and repeated over and over to herself what a bitch she'd been. Gordon's massive prick was racing in and out of her rectal passage from her asshole to the very depths of her belly. The pain was killing her, but she told herself it was beautiful.
Lillian could feel the chastising vigor with which Gordon's great prick was fucking deep into her ass channel.
She'd only endured up to now, but the agony was reaching an unexpected new stage. There was pain... but there was obscene pleasure too.
Sweat was streaming from Gordon's brow and cheeks while he fucked his heavy cock into the stretched hole between Lillian's beautiful buttocks. He stared down at the lasciviously clinging aperture, pulling her white cheeks apart suddenly as he could see the pink flesh pull out and cling to his thick rod as he extracted it, disappearing as he rammed it home.
His balls were ready to spill, to spurt his hot load. Her warm grasping asshole was sucking the very marrow from his loins. He couldn't stand it much longer.
Suddenly, with one grunting thrust, he shot his powerful load deep into her forbidden channel. Spurting and spurting and spurting 'til he was exhausted and spent.
"Darling... darling... Gordon, darling." She was weeping softly, turning her head to try and see his face.
She'd stood it. It was over and she wanted desperately to be comforted.
Gordon sighed a long shuddering sigh that wracked him. It was over. Over at last. The anger had gone but the ache remained.
Wearily he pushed himself off Lillian's beautiful body and stumbled over her.
"Please... Gordon, darling... please."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Gordon turned away from the window where an April rain was depressing him, picked up his coffee cup and checked his calendar. Representative from Grandmothers, Inc., Dr. Taylor from N.Y.U. on those night classes in marriage management, the committee from New York State prison system on rehabilitation of prison divorcees. In only one year, he thought ruefully, I've become some kind of expert on marriage matters, at least in law circles... and only I know what a fraud I am. It was easy to pinpoint other people's troubles... but never your own.
He looked up as Miss Bell knocked briefly and came in. "The representative from Grandmothers, Inc., to see you, Mr. Atherton. Mr. Morgan."
Before Gordon could say anything, Pete Morgan was crossing the room and holding out his hand.
"Hello, Gordon. Good to see you."
"I didn't realize," Gordon shook his hand. "You've grown up." Pete was groomed and dressed like a young executive with an air of self-sufficiency that made him appear twenty-five, not nineteen. Gordon felt confused and a little off balance.
"Yes, I have... but I have a long way to go. I guess growing never stops... or shouldn't. You've done a lot of good work in the past year."
Gordon's eyebrows raised. How did Pete know what he'd done?
"One of my law professors at Harvard thinks you're tops. Law is part of my business management major."
"You're majoring in business management?"
"I know it's pretty hard to believe... but people do change. You've changed, too. Giving up corporation law for all this social conscience work you do now."
"Yes," Gordon answered slowly, still not believing the metamorphosis he was seeing.
"Mom's changed, too, Gordon," Pete said quietly. "She's out of Fabini except for stock she's holding for me. That will be my start."
"I should think Lillian wouldn't be very happy without Fabini. That always seemed to matter the most to her," Gordon said bitterly.
"The only thing she lives for now is Grandmothers, Inc. Organized it, funded it, and works day and night for it. It's to help working mothers do a better job of raising their kids than she feels she did with me. She finds grandmothers to live with them... spend time with the kids, give them the extra attention their mothers can't always supply when they have to work. The grandmothers are older women with no families... and they need to be needed, too. There aren't enough to go around, of course, so Mom pitches in when a young mother is desperate for help for her kids."
"She was always a great one for worrying about kids," Gordon said disparagingly.
"Look, Gordon. She's trying to atone for a lot of things she felt she did wrong. I'm not here for charity. It's just... well, I broke up your marriage... coldly and deliberately. I'd like somehow to make it right again. This has been eating me for a long time now. Mom doesn't know I'm here. She feels she's done you enough damage already. She'd stay away forever... if she thought she was protecting you."
Gordon paced, unable to look at Pete now, his emotions so unruly he shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking. God knows he knew how hard it was to say you were wrong... to admit guilt... but Pete was doing it. Could he do it... no matter how much he might want to. Pride, guilt... he'd been over it so much... but always other people's pride and guilt... never his own.
"I know I'm being very selfish again, Gordon."
"How so?"
"I don't want to carry this load on my back forever."
"I can understand that," Gordon admitted.
"If you'd just see her, I think you'd understand."
"Oh. Pete. I don't know," Gordon said wearily, "and then there's...."
"You mean Dr. Herndon."
"Yes. The frog cure."
"We've never seen him again. Sometimes a massive shock may be the only thing that will work. It wasn't electric shock... but another kind. We were shocked awake... we have changed... but you only need one of that kind of shock," Pete said grimly.
Gordon nodded slowly.
Gordon felt like running the moment he saw her sitting alone in a corner booth of the restaurant. His throat tightened, but Pete's hand on his arm was insistent.
They were almost to the table before Lillian saw them. One hand fluttered to her throat and a look of fright and uncertainty passed over her lovely face. She was even more beautiful than Gordon remembered... thinner, even finer-boned in a simple dark dress with a wide white collar and cuffs. Her face floated up to him as it did in his hopeless dreams at night.
"Lillian," he said, unable to say more.
He saw the tears come up in her eyes. "Oh, Gordon," she whispered, putting out one hand uncertainly. He took it and held on to it as he slipped into the booth beside her.
"How... how have you been?" she asked, swallowing and blinking tremulously. He just patted her hand and squeezed it hard, nodding. Then, "You okay?"
She nodded back, the tears beginning to roll out of the corners of her dark eyes unnoticed.
Neither of them noticed Pete leave, but his step was almost bouncing as he left the restaurant, whistling in the rain.
