Donna Eagles dreaded seeing Wascomb. The prospect of meeting with her editor had created a queasy feeling in her stomach and the tall, slender blonde girl found herself making more and more errors as she tried to create the latest confession story.
"Damn, damn, damn!" she muttered, reaching for the eraser. The story was supposed to run roughly ten thousand words and it seemed like it would never get itself finished, although Donna could ordinarily bang out a stinker like it in two days... this one had the virginal girl organist falling in love with the parson and hanky-panky in the choir loft and it was lousy.
But it was ten cents a word, which translated to eating for a month, so the thing had to be done, even if it meant throwing up all over the typewriter.
It also had to be done on time, which was only two days away, and it had to be done to the formula which, revolting as it was, sold nearly a million copies a month to dum-dum frustrated women who, being unable to find love of their own, had to buy it on the newsstand.
"I want to... I want you... Oh, how I want... but there is Melanie... you're married to her!" The distressed auburn-haired girl made a weak protest as the handsome young minister caressed her... " Donna hammered out two more lines which she had written many times before.
"Damn it!" she said, ripping the page from the machine and grinding it under her bare foot. Wascomb would throw it back in her face. And rightly so... it was bad writing, and for his ten cents a word, Wascomb demanded Hemingway. He screamed like a wounded eagle and there was the monthly threat to cancel her contract. If that happened, Donna Eagles would have to go back to writing copy for an ad agency in New Y6rk, for less money and even more frustration. The lovely blonde loathed the city and was quite happy with her restored Colonial farmhouse in the Berkshire country of Western Massachusetts, despite the severe snowfall and generally miserable climate. This was a hot, muggy day, but at least she didn't have to listen to the continual blasting horns of midtown Manhattan, and the foul language, and breathe in the stink of the city. All Donna had to do was come up with two stories a month to keep Wascomb pacified and earn a friendly smile from the town banker. Feeding another sheet of paper into the monstrous IBM electric typewriter with the bouncing ball, again the troubled woman of twenty-nine said, "Damn!"
She considered her editor to be a strange man. Something was bugging him, and he took out his frustrations on his stable of writers. He showered down wrath upon them. Bitching, always bitching, wanting better material despite the low -- and sometimes slow -- pay. Somewhere in Pelham Manor there was a publisher, and he had nothing to do except ride daily in his chauffeur-driven Mercedes to the bank. He hired people like Wascomb to put out his books and magazines and generally be bastards, walking all over the prostrate bodies of indigent writers.
Donna had met some of the other editors, and to her way of thinking they were all emotional cripples... eunuchs programmed to do a job. The women were either confirmed lesbians or at the least bisexual. The males were gay as Hogan's goat, because the magazines were targeted for the female market.
Wascomb was possibly an exception.
Donna had known him for about two years, and to her he didn't seem queer. But he was a strange, solitary man, living alone in a sort of high-camp apartment. If he had any friends, she had never heard of them. He was not easy to get along with, but no matter how harsh his criticism of a story, it was not malicious. He made angry noises at whatever was submitted, and now he was coming to visit Donna.
To the girl, this was bad news. Wascomb never visited anybody without firing them or making a very heavy scene. He spoke seven languages and cursed fluently in each, yet did not make it a personal thing.
He was terrifying because he was at one moment impersonal, and the next, his tongue cut your gut and you felt he would like to drink your blood.
Wascomb was a machine.
A living guillotine.
And he was on the way.
As she stared at the blank sheet of paper in the typewriter, Donna Eagles had second thoughts about the wisdom of inviting Wascomb to visit her home in the mountains. The long-legged blonde was not afraid of a sexual attack. She was tall and strong and felt she could take care of herself... and as long as she had known Wascomb, he'd never even glanced at her mini-skirted thighs or the firm, wide-set thrusting of her breasts, which had never been hampered by the confinement of a brassiere.
Often Donna had wondered if her editor had any sex life at all. The way he drove himself and all his writers, she thought that maybe he was sublimating a natural urge which might some day overcome him. Smash the machine beyond repair.
This was a thing Donna could understand, because she was without a lover. Seven years ago, there had been an unfortunate experience with a teenaged boy who had been able to bring her lush woman's body to burning life, make her tight little cunt throb with lewd desire, whether it was filled with his reaming cock or the tenderness of his salivating tongue.
And then the summer season had ended and the boy had gone away -- a couple of years at Yale, he said -- and Donna had never wanted another man. None of those she met seemed to measure up to the vibrations she had known with the teenaged boy. She had loved him and forced herself to put him out of her mind because he was so much younger, eight years. Many times Donna had wanted to renew the relationship, and the boy -- now a man -- was not hard to find. He had obtained his law degree and was working with the White House in Washington.
A phone call would have done it, but she didn't have the nerve.
'To... " she wrote now on the typewriter.
For nearly a quarter of an hour, the lithe blonde stared at the word, while her mind was filled with the impending confrontation with her editor. The floor was littered with discarded pages of her script. Breathing a deep sigh and tossing her mane of honey-colored hair, Donna Eagles completed the sentence.
"To hell with it!"
Switching off the electricity to the typewriter, she almost ran through the back door, toward the small lake which was one of the reasons she had mortgaged herself to the hilt to take over the run-down farm. During the winter months, it froze and became a natural skating rink, providing a source of exercise. In summer, it somehow remained frigid and by plunging into it Donna could both cool her demanding woman's body and exercise her lean muscles. Swimming and skating burned up her desire for sex and made it possible to reject the masculine overtures of the town males.
Donna tried to be honest with herself, and admit that she wanted a man.
Wanted to fuck.
Yet the man available didn't appeal to her... they were too clumsy with their approach, bordering on the dishonest. Cheating on their wives, looking for nothing more than another woman to ram their cocks into, not caring for the woman... just a piece of meat to fuck. And then brag about it at the beer parlor.
So Donna Eagles had for years denied the passionate demands of her body, thinking always of the young boy from long ago and punching her frustrations into the defenseless typewriter, laying it all on Wascomb.
In the privacy of her little farm - which had a vegetable patch and also produced, in season, strawberries, apples, peaches, pears, asparagus, blackberries and other delectables -- Donna was close to being a free spirit. Rejecting the steaming sidewalks of New York, she usually wore nothing more than a faded, thin cotton shirt which bunched up around the firm globes of her high, out-thrust breasts and barely covered the smooth hemispheres of her jiggling ass-cheeks. There was nobody around to leer at her near nudity, and Donna was proud of her body.
Now, stripping the thin shirt from her, she plunged into the water from the end of a rickety dock to which her patient canoe was tied.
"EEEEEUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAYYYYY YYY!" the gorgeous blonde screamed as the near-freezing water engulfed her, raising goosebumps on her thrashing body, making the nipples of her firm breasts rise like hardened steel. She swam the length of the lake, her taffy-hued hair streaming wetly behind her, and then turned on her back, with her breasts exposed to the burning heat of the sun, and let her legs part obscenely, opening her long-denied cunt lips to its warmth. The water was so cold she could feel her pussy clenching in defense, and reached for it, opening the puckering lips that were lined with the soft golden curly hairs. Her clitoris hardened and peeked from its tight sheath as Donna's fingers probed her secret flesh. She sighed, "Ooooouuuuuggggggghh!"
It was so nice, lying motionless in the frigid water. The extremes of temperature excited her... the searing of the sun on her bobbing breasts, and the icy water which now flooded her puckering cunt lips.
Donna couldn't help herself... she had to use her hand.
Slowly the aroused woman began to stroke the softness of her cunt, running her fingers languidly up and down the sweet furrow as gradually her legs splayed wider. Teasing herself, she made her probing fingers stay away from her clitoris... sliding them up and down the now-flowering pussy until she was ready inside.
Then, with an obscene gasp of pleasure, Donna worked the extended middle finger of her right hand up into the hot channel of her cunt, rotating it, loving the way the fingernail rasped the soft tissue of her vagina, almost crying out with the sweet pain.
Her cunt grabbed her finger and demanded more, and she put a second finger into the seething depths of her pussy, and then a third, and she began to fuck her hand, making wide ripples in the clear water. Her flailing legs battered the surface of the placid little lake.
And then her thumb found her clitoris and massaged it to needle-sharp sensitivity as her fingers reamed her jerking cunt and Donna could feel the cumming begin, the volcano blowing its top deep in her humping loins, beginning to spill its sweet lava down the stretched channel of her vagina. She wished she were nimble enough to bend in the icy water and suck her pussy, luxuriate in the richness of her hot honey cum, driving the flicking spear of her own tongue deep up into her pulsing loins and taste herself.
The wild orgasm spent itself and Donna lay on her back in the water, coming down, beginning to feel shame and disgust at her wanton, sluttish self-satisfaction despite the delicious tingling deep between her long, slender legs.
"Shame upon you," she whispered when finally she began to swim back to the dock. "Get a man!"
A man arrived minutes after Donna Eagles emerged from the lake, dried her hair and the velvet flesh of her body and slipped the skimpy shirt over her head. It was Wascomb, and he was riding an antique motorcycle with sidecar attached. The elderly machine still bore the name of Massachusetts State Police. The sidecar was stuffed with camping gear.
Wascomb was a lean, long-muscled man and he now had a two-day growth of beard. He had the nose of a woodpecker and the jaw of a crocodile. His sandy hair hung to his shoulders and at the moment looked like an abused mop. He climbed off his motorcycle and made a professional appraisal of the nervous blonde.
"Christ, you look good enough to eat!"
"Oh, damn you!" Donna's cunt was still oozing its sweet juice, and she remembered how beautiful it was when her young teenaged lover had kissed her and licked... and she was aware of just how naked she must look. Worse than naked, with the thin shirt clinging like a second skin to her voluptuous body and her mane of taffy-hued hair dripping down her back. "Wascomb, you are impossible! How can you say such a thing?"
"Because you've got a cunt made for eating... and you fucking well know it," he retorted. "Donna, baby, I am not here to be nice. I bust my fucking ass to come here and square you away on this shit you write, so let's get down to the grits and greens... like right now I stink and want to get clean. That lake of yours looks good, and I brought my own soap and towels."
Before the startled blonde could protest, her visitor dug into the sidecar for what he wanted. Then he casually stripped himself naked and headed for the pond and dove into it clutching a bar of yellow laundry soap. He splashed and washed in full sight of the astonished girl, then scrambled onto the dock to dry himself.
Donna Eagles was unable to keep her eyes away from his penis. It was flaccid from the frigid water, yet hung halfway to Wascomb's knees. Although her experience with males was extremely limited -- just the one young boy -- Donna thought her editor was more than adequately endowed. God! What would it be like to have him hard and mounting her, filling her yearning cunt?
She had to get such notions out of her head... this much Donna knew.
This man was her editor, and he was a strange one. The long-limbed blonde was only too well aware of her own near nakedness, and was sure the golden little curls which fringed her tight cunt were only too visible under the thin shirt. She was sure the soft lips were flowering open in invitation... that if Wascomb moved closer, took her and maybe laid her down in the canoe and mounted her, she would surrender and cry out for more and more, using words that the heroines of her stories would never use.
Fuck me! Give me all your cock!
Words like that Donna would scream to a man she didn't even like!
Humiliated by the mere thought that she could be such a wanton slut, Donna turned away, but was determined to preserve whatever dignity she could salvage. She managed to say, "This is a very hot day, so I fixed a cold supper. Sorry I don't have anything except hard cider and beer to go with it."
"It's been years since I've tasted cider." the editor said.
Surprisingly, the dinner went much better than the nervous blonde thought possible. It was a simple meal, more of a buffet than a dinner. Cold cuts and frigid potato salad with tangy things like gherkin pickles to nibble on, and the jug of cider which had been chilling in the well. Donna Eagles somehow forgot her unwanted guest's nakedness as she relaxed in an old chair upholstered in leather which was cracked and seamed by time, with curly horsehair poking through holes. Relaxed was not quite the word... Donna knew her editor would not have made such a long trip just for the pleasure of it.
Sooner or later he would lay a bad scene on her.
It wouldn't be a sex thing. She was reasonably sure of that because his penis was still softly dangling. She knew he was admiring her body, probably wanting her... but as yet, he had nothing to offer. His cock was soft as cream cheese as he stood and began to pace the wide-planked surface of the centuries-old floor of the living room. His mouth was screwed tight and he looked like he might explode.
"Get naked, " he spat out.
"What?" the startled woman replied. She thought, I'm as good as naked now! Nothing but a shirt... not even panties! He is seeing all of me! "Wascomb, you must be mad! You're walking around in the nude, and I've gotten used to that, but now you want me to do the same. No! No way... tear up the flippin' contract! Oh, God, how did I ever get into something this stupid!"
"Oh, for Chrissakes!" the editor exploded. "You afraid of rape or some damn thing?" Furiously he shook his limp penis. "With this? Christ, Donna, you're the most beautiful fucking girl I ever met... and there's no damn way I can get hard now! Even if you got down on your knees and sucked me all night! But I have something important to say to you... important if you want to keep working. And with you wearing that half-ass shirt and your cunt winking up my eyeballs, I can't get it straight!"
"My God," the woman whispered. She felt the fury of his words, and the shame of impotence. "Wascomb... "
"Take off that fucking shirt! Damn it, if we're both naked we can talk!" he said vehemently.
Awed, the tawny blonde rose and slowly removed the shirt, letting her big, full breasts spring from their slight confinement, then shrugging the flimsy garment from her shoulders. In an unconscious gesture, she cupped the firm pear-shaped mounds and squeezed the burgeoning nipples to hardness.
Having a man sitting, just watching, excited Donna so she could not resist sliding one hand down to cup and massage her tender pussy.
"Uuuuuuggghhhhh!" she gasped in less than a minute, as the wild sensation spread through her loins and the sticky sweet cum gushed over her fingers from the pulsing lips of her lust-swollen cunt to spill down the smooth, quivering sensitive flesh of her clenching thighs. Donna shook in the fantasy of her orgasm and mutely mouthed the word, "Please... "
"I couldn't," Wascomb said. "I have to lay it on the line with you. Now lie down on the sofa and let me look at those beautiful tits and your pussy, and talk... "
"You are the most disgusting, obscene man I've ever known!" Donna cried out.
"Shut your fucking mouth and open your legs so I can eat your cunt!" he said.
"Oh, GOD!" she gasped. But the sheer brutality of his words made her comply with his obscene demand and Donna found herself spreading her legs and even raising her cunt to his mouth. She felt the first tickling of his tongue sliding up the tight furrow of her pulsing cunt, driving deep into it and she couldn't help herself. With the first lingual contact, she began to screw her body up to Wascomb's mouth.
She fucked up to him violently, thinking not of the tongue that was slithering up and down the tight furrow of her pussy but of the boy... so many years ago... the beautiful boy who had fucked her. The only one...
"Yes... yes... Oh, Jesus, YES!" she cried out as the dam inside her loins burst and her long, slender legs grabbed tight around his head and her sweet cum spilled into Wascomb's sucking mouth. She moaned and whined, "Lick me, oh, LICK MEEEEEE! Eat meeeee! Damn you, Wascomb!"
Then he was forcing her legs, her tight-grabbing thighs from around his cum-wet face and mounting her and fucking her, ramming his now-hard long cock into her soft, yielding pussy and she was fucking up to his demanding body and cursing him.
"Bastard... bastard... you fucking bastard... YOU'RE FUCKING MEEEEEE!" she cried out, and choked on the words she had never spoken before even as she screwed up on his reaming cock and held him tight... and she was cock-happy and cumming again, fucking up to him with all her strength and screaming, "Fuck, oh, fuck meeeeee!"
Donna felt the hot stream of his viscous cum pouring up into her loins and her own internal muscles sucking it up, and she bit his shoulder in her passion, licking his blood as she cried out, "Fuck, oh, FUCK!"
Oh, God, it had been so long!
So much she had missed...
And now he was pulling his softening cock out of her clutching cunt even though her strong, slender legs were grasping...
How could he be so thoughtless, so cruel? Didn't he realize that the time a woman most needs to be kissed and loved... or lied to... is right after she's been fucked?
At that moment, a woman feels she has been used and abused, even though she may have cum hard, and she needs some love, some assurance that she is important to the man who has fucked her.
Not just a piece of meat.
JUST TELL ME A NICE LIE!
That is the prayer of a girl lying under a man with his sperm oozing from her cunt.
His cum silver and sticky on her spasming thighs...
"Oh, please kiss me and lie to me and damn it say you love me!" Donna groaned.
And she knew he wouldn't.
To him, she was a piece of meat.
Just a quick fuck.
Hate that word.
Dirty word... hate that fucking word... get the hell off my sweating body and let me think of the boy I loved... YOU SON OF A BITCH!
He surprised her with tenderness.
He withdrew from her, his penis making a wet, sucking sound. He moved to kiss and suckle her breasts and then go lower, his tongue licking her belly and down, down, until it was again deep in her cunt and she was grasping his head and jamming her pussy up to his face and crying out her passion and lust as his tongue lashed her burning-hot clitoris and she rolled as if she were being horsewhipped. She felt her hot, sweet cum pour from her pussy into his mouth, again and again.
And Wascomb licked and sucked up every sweet drop before finally crawling into Donna Eagles' arms and holding her so tight it hurt. His head was buried between her voluptuous breasts and his cock, slippery with his cum and her juices, was between her hotly clutching legs.
* * *
My God! Donna thought as she lay and held her new lover tight. How have I ever... I don't even like him!
It felt so good when it was happening... when I was... when I was FUCKING... but I don't love him... I like him, maybe, but I can't love anyone but a young boy... Oh, God help me! What's wrong with me?
How depraved can I GET!
Jesus, can I talk to him and tell him? He's what they call a hardnose sonofabitch... could he understand ME? We've had sex and for me it was good... oh, so good, but maybe he thinks I'm a cold one. The thing he did first... licking me... they call it eating cunt! Oh, God, how I came! Just pouring into his mouth! But did he expect me to reciprocate? Take his penis in my mouth? I don't know how... but maybe... if a man would teach me...
She began to cry. The tears spilled over the chest of the man she convulsively held and her long fingernails raked his body and he suddenly wakened and with the back of his hand slapped Donna into awareness.
"What's happening?" Wascomb said.
"I'm going crazy."
"Aren't we all... lay it on me. The whole thing."
"All of it?" Donna whispered.
"I didn't come all the way here for the pleasure of fucking up the freeways. Either I get your head screwed on straight or I have to fire your ass. Honey, your bod is good in bed, but your damn fingers aren't dancing right on the typewriter. Now let's get to it... lay it on me. Shit, I'll work with you and make a writer out of you but how good your ass is in the sack does not count for sour owlshit. Talk is cheap but money buys whiskey. Now, let's hear the hangup."
Still crying, Donna Eagles spilled out a story of her childhood, brought up by righteous Bible-Belt parents who died leaving her only enough money to get through a two-year course in a junior college, where she had learned to type and not much else. She had discovered the better confession magazines paid up to ten cents a word and so she had taken a shot at it and somehow survived. She had no love-life and couldn't imagine how they had wound up in bed together, and it would never happen again... "Horseshit!" Wascomb said.
"I don't understand," Donna said in a near whisper as she combed her mane of taffy-hued hair with her fingers. "Please don't fire me... I need this job... "
"Then quit trying to lie!" Wascomb shot back. "Not to me, damn it! Tell me the fucking truth! I've got three million people buying the magazine every month, and I need good writers. If I don't have them, my ass is on the street! Now shit, baby, I lay it on the line. You have some talent, but you're short on ability and you are a lousy liar. Now, if you want to eat, you tell me the truth and you do it damn fast! Your bod isn't going to get you much. Shit, you're almost thirty years old, and Jesus Christ, I don't think you've ever fucked! Oh, you were good with me a little while ago, but did you really FUCK? Put your heart into it along with your tight little cunt? Oh, you have a sweet cunt. So have a few million other girls! Now, damn it, let's have the real story about your hangup, and we can work it out."
"Oooooohhhhhhh... I HATE YOU!"
"Nobody ever loved an editor."
"Oh, you rat!" Donna caved in and told him about the young boy she had loved so many years ago. How she had given all of herself to the youngster, and she finished by calling him "stinker!"
"You have a foul mouth," Wascomb said as he turned her over and caressed the smoothness of her beautifully rounded ass-cheeks. "Spread your legs and get up on your knees and elbows!"
"WHAT?" Donna cried out.
"I'm going to fuck you dog-style," Wascomb said. "It goes deeper. Now reach back and open your pussy with your fingers so I can lick it a little!"
Weeping in her humiliation, but afraid to disobey, Donna Eagles knelt and reached back to open the tender lips of her cunt, hoping her editor would not hurt her.
And then suddenly she felt the flicking tip of his tongue writhing up and down the softly furred furrow of her cunt and even into the tight puckering of her anus, and then slide up the warm, wet softness of her erotically flexing pussy lips to the tiny button of her clitoris. She began to squirm back toward his hot lips and tongue.
"Oooooohhhhh... yesssss... more!" she groaned, fucking her burning cunt up to the delving tongue.
And then he plunged the long hardness of his cock into her squirming body for the second time in two hours, and Donna could only fuck back urgently on the rigid stiffness of it.
She felt the huge mushroom-shaped head of it ramming up into her grasping cunt and his heavy semen-laden testicles smacking into the tender lips of her pussy and bouncing on her clitoris and she wanted more, more MORE of this wild fucking! She wanted nothing but a full cunt.
And she was hating the man who was fucking her so beautifully.
But Donna could not deny the needs of her full-fleshed wanton body.
Oh, she had to take this fucking!
She felt the thick, hard cock ramming and reaming into her welcoming pussy, the bulbous head crashing against her womb and she had the most wild, obscene thoughts which had ever passed through her nearly virginal mind...
Do it to meeeeee!
Oh, FUCK MEEEEEEEE!
Put it in my mouth... CUM IN MY MOUTH!
Put it between my ass-cheeks... put it up my ass!
Oh, God, what a FUCK!
His balls smacking against her yearning pussy, his rigid rampant penis reaming her lubricious cunt, Donna knew she was cumming so hard... the delicious juice was pouring from her flexing cunt lips to coat his cock and testicles and stream over the sofa and she couldn't help crying out her pleasure.
And then his cock was swelling inside her squirming cunt and spurting deep up into her loins, hot and male, and for the moment she found unbelievable pleasure in kneeling before a man and having him fuck her so wildly.
Donna wished in her frenzy that he would take his gushing penis and ram it deep into her mouth and let her taste the maleness jetting up into her quivering belly.
And then, as she felt the last hot spray of his cum in her grasping cunt, Donna collapsed instantly on the sofa. For several minutes she could not move as she felt the softening penis in her loins.
"I hate you," she whispered. "I hate me for what I just found out I am. I'm a slut."
"You're out of your bird. I think you're a hell of a nice girl." He moved between her legs. "I'm going to fuck you again."
"You couldn't... and I couldn't," Donna murmured even as she felt him hardening in her loins, growing longer and thicker. She hammered her fists on the sofa and went on to say, "I didn't intend anything like this... I'm ashamed of what I said... of what I am... I've never even said a four-letter word in my life until now... you have to believe me... " From what she had read and heard, Donna Eagles didn't think it was possible for this to happen, but now he was hard again in her tender cunt, fucking incredibly deep up inside her thrashing body while she cried out her pleasure and wanton desire as his hairy legs rasped her tingling thigh-flesh. Wascomb was bending low over her trembling back, his teeth sinking into her neck like a tomcat fucking a pussycat, penetrating, and his tongue was licking her blood.
Donna felt no pain... only exquisite, exhilarating sensual pleasure and she raised her quivering buttocks higher, begging in body language for Wascomb to split her pulsing cunt apart with his rampant cock.
"Ooooooogggggghhhhhh!" the taffy-haired girl sighed as she felt the cumming begin again and her internal muscles clamped tight on the plunging cock that impaled her sweating body. "Hard... hard as you can! OH, GOD!"
Then, as she felt dizzy with lust and seemed to be on fire in thousands - millions - of nerve ends, Wascomb was almost tearing her willing body apart as he fucked Donna so violently that in spite of her kneeling position and the strength of her body, she was driven face down on the bed as his reaming male flesh again spurted into her cuntal passage.
She wished at that moment that he had fucked her from above, so she could grasp him with her trembling arms and sweating thighs and hold him deep up inside her quaking belly. God, but he was big... not only his penis, but all of his body. She thought it was strange that never before had she realized Wascomb was so large a man.
So much bigger than that long-ago boy...
And what had his name been?
Donna realized that in her guilt at seducing the youth she had somehow blacked out his name from her mind, and for the life of her couldn't think of it.
All she could think of was how nice it was to have a man's cock rammed to the hilt up in her long-denied cunt as Wascomb panted over her sweating body.
Oh, it had been so good... but there was something lacking even though she'd cum time after time and her sensitive flesh was now so tender she thought she'd scream if he thrust into her once again.
Donna slowly returned to reality and tried to reassemble the past few hours.
The hip kids have a word for it, she thought. I FREAKED!
They were in her house and Wascomb was in her -- oh, how he was in her -- and Donna could not remember how she got to the sofa. She recalled swimming, and watching her editor casually strip naked and take a bath in her lake... and how she had so subserviently taken off her thin shirt at his demand... and then the day became a blur.
Nothing was real except the slowly softening penis in her vagina and the rich flow of their mingled cum coating her downy blonde cunt hairs and the tender flesh of her still flexing thighs.
"Christ -- and I thought you were frigid!" Wascomb whispered.
"I am... it was the first time in almost ten years," the satiated blonde murmured. "I don't expect you to believe that but... "
"But I do... no chick who's getting it regularly could be such a wild fuck!" the editor said. "Like, my mind is blown. I need a drink, something stronger than your hard cider."
"The closet over the sink... whiskey," Donna Eagles whispered as she felt his now-soft penis slip from the clutching confines of her soft cuntal flesh. "With tap water."
He padded away on naked feet and she rolled onto her back, feeling confused. He had been so good... but there was something missing.
Something the nameless boy had given her so long ago.
And he had been just a boy, the long-limbed blonde told herself. His penis hadn't been long and hard as Wascomb's. It hadn't plunged so deep and hotly into her, or given her nearly so much sensual pleasure.
He had in fact been clumsy, inept even as he pantingly cried out how he loved her. And that was ridiculous, because she had been almost twenty-two at the time and he was barely fourteen. Inexperienced, but ardent in his juvenile lovemaking. She had been shocked when he pried her thrashing legs wide apart and put his mouth on her flowering cunt before he fucked her.
A woman never forgets her first fuck, Donna thought as her second lover returned with two drinks and lighted cigarettes and slid into the sweat-damp sheets beside her.
Like she was dying of thirst, Donna drained the tall glass and handed it back to him, murmuring, "Please?"
He got another drink and as he returned to the sofa looked down at her reclining body, still flushed by their fucking. He touched the icy glass to the nipples of her upthrust breasts and watched them harden and rise, and then bent to put his mouth softly over the love-swollen lips of her cunt.
"It wasn't much good for you, was it?" he said, his tongue glistening from their cum. "Was it me, or...?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Donna said curtly as she gulped her second drink. "You - you made me cum and cum until I wanted to scream!"
"And who were you thinking of?" Wascomb retorted. "I may be a fucking machine, but I know when a girl is really making it. Like deep inside, not just popping her pussy. Okay, you had orgasms... but not for me. "
"Oh, go away!" the distressed blonde cried out. "This is torture!"
"Horseshit!" Wascomb retorted. "You think I rode that damn antique bike all the way up here just for a quick fuck? There are a hundred fucks to the block in New York City, and most of them as pretty as you. Now, you hear this and you listen good, because I am going to say it only once. Listening?"
"Yes," Donna said abjectly as she curled into a defenseless naked fetal ball on the sofa.
"I am an editor. That means a hell of a lot more than just waving a heavy black pencil. It means finding and developing writers... otherwise, it's my ass. Writing confessions may be silly shit work, but damn it they sell! You are damn well paid, at ten cents a word, and you've been throwing shit at me for months! If you've bothered to look, you know I've had to rewrite your last nine stories, and that I am not hired to do, and am not about to do anymore. I have a letter terminating your contract but Goddamn it, I think you can write and don't want to lose you." He wiped sweat from his brow. "Jesus! If the boss goose knew I was giving you a second chance, he'd fry my ass. Now, will you write or quit before I have to fire you?"
"Oh, my God!" Donna gasped. "You don't know how hard I try! I pound out half a million words to get your damn ten thousand! If you don't believe me, go in the next room, where I work, and dig into those cardboard boxes and see how many drafts I've done. Trying to satisfy you!" Curled into her smoothly fleshed ball, Donna began to cry again. "I want to work for you because you're the toughest editor in the business. I know I'm not a writer, but thought maybe you'd teach me... but you never send me any critiques telling me what's wrong, and I don't have time to read whatever you've rewritten. Now, go, go, GO and see if I'm lying!"
Shaken by the violence of Donna's outburst, Wascomb rolled off of the sofa, his now flaccid penis flopping against his thighs as he said, "I think I might just do that. I saw a coffee pot in the kitchen. When I get through looking, where do I sleep?"
The question stunned Donna momentarily. The sofa was still warm and wet and had the scent of their passion. She uncurled from her fetal position and her cum-damp cunt was bared again to his hot eyes as she managed to say, "God help me... don't leave me alone!"
"I couldn't sleep alone under this roof." He looked down at the trembling blonde and his penis began to fill with blood, harden and become long again.
"It won't be a payoff," Donna whispered.
"Of course not. You're not a payoff sort of girl."
"Thanks. Now go do your required reading." Forcing a smile, the long-limbed blonde went into the bedroom, climbed into the bed and drew a sheet over her voluptuous body as the naked man walked toward her work room. She heard him padding barefoot down to the kitchen, and shortly after smelled aromatic coffee brewing, and finally his steps returned to the upper floor and the door closed as he entered her workroom.
Donna could hardly believe it when she woke up. The sun was burning into her bedroom and she was alone in the bed. She would have thought the passion and lewd behavior of the day before was only a dream, except that her cunt was throbbing and her thighs sticky with cum... so it had happened!
She had been fucked... and where was he?
Slowly the details came to her mind. Donna scissored her long, shapely legs and sprang from the bed, afraid that Wascomb had left. But she found him in her study, sound asleep on the uncomfortable old davenport, half-buried in a litter of discarded scripts. The coffee pot was on the floor. Squeezing his dangling hand, Donna wakened him. He rubbed his eyes but didn't seem to be disturbed by a confrontation with a naked woman, and he collected himself quickly.
"I just about read myself to death," he said, brushing his tangled hair from his eyes. "Christ, your first and second drafts were a hell of a lot better writing than your finished copy." He reached to touch her between the legs, his fingers teasing her pussy. "I mean it... it's not cunt hunger talking. But would you like to fuck? A day that begins with a fuck has to be great."
Donna Eagles felt the blush suffuse her entire body, and she realized that it was from her own desire. She felt the soft lips of her cunt filling with blood and opening, awaiting his cock, and she tried to make her voice light, kidding, as she replied.
"Wouldn't you rather have breakfast first?"
"Maybe I'll need the strength," he said. "But afterwards, we go to bed and we fuck and I give you a ten-cent lecture on your writing and what I want you to do. Okay?"
"Oh, my lord and master!" Donna said, mocking.
And as she spoke, she felt her cunt widening and oozing her rich-scented cum over his lewdly probing finger. His cock was hard and long now and she knew that she couldn't resist if he wanted to take her.
She would do anything he wanted.
The tormented blonde had a compelling urge to kneel over him and take his beautiful penis into her mouth and make love to him, but Wascomb made no move to encourage her. She snuggled for a moment against his hard-muscled stomach, expecting to feel the pressure of his hand on her head, pushing her down to his rigid cock, and her mouth was salivating.
"You are one hell of a woman," Wascomb said.
"I -- I don't think I like you," Donna Eagles said. Her slender hand slowly massaged his rampant penis, rolling the fleshy foreskin up and down over the mushroom-shaped head as her sensitive fingertips felt the heavy, pulsing veins. "But I'll do... do anything." She ran the wet pink tip of her tongue over her sensuous lips. She stood belly tight to him and relaxed her knees as she bent her head, inviting him silently to put his hands on her shoulders and make her kneel in front of his lust-hardened cock and have him jam it into her soft, salivating mouth.
Donna at that moment felt a great need to be subjugated and humiliated by the shaggy-haired man. Be forced to kneel and part her sensuous lips and submit to being fucked in the mouth, have his huge cock rammed deep into her throat and his hands pulling her head tight to his loins until he shot his hot, sweet cum into her belly.
Why?
Donna Eagles had no explanation for her perverted desire. She had never felt anything like this before, and wondered if maybe she wanted to be degraded physically rather than listen to whatever it was that Wascomb would finally say about her writing.
She knew he would be merciless, and he was.
Without warning, he threw her on the bed. He grasped her slender ankles and bent them over his shoulders until she screamed with pain and the plane of her genitals was completely exposed, her cunt stretched wide open, her smooth ass-cheeks obscenely spread drumhead tight.
Savagely Wascomb rammed his iron-hard penis up into her lubricious pussy and with the same violence thrust the thumb of his right hand into her helplessly exposed anus.
"EEEEEEYYYYYAAAAUUUUGGGHHHH!" Donna cried out at the shock of the dual impalement.
For a moment she struggled, and then her body betrayed her.
Sobbing in pain and passion, she tightly wrapped her arms around the humping back of her editor and moved so her legs grasped his neck like a vise.
"OOOOOHHHHHHHHH... AAAA UUUUGGGHHH!" she moaned as she squirmed to slam her cunt hard up to his bouncing balls. "You son of a bitch! Do it... OOOOOHHHH; DO IT TO MEEEEEE!"
"You sure like to fuck," he said, and rammed his cock deep up into her clutching pussy.
CHAPTER TWO
"You can make that typewriter do the Spanish fandango. You plot beautiful, but our readers don't give a hoot for plot... they want to read about people they can identify with. People who swear and fart at the table... not nice, like your beautiful little farm, but the way they know." Wascomb brushed his hair back and continued. "I don't think you've ever lived in shit. You had a nice, comfortable home, people who probably did the Sunday school number, sang in the choir or passed the basket and never missed the mid-week prayer meeting. Okay. And all the time they were building this hard core of lust... they knew what they were missing!"
"You're cruel!" Donna murmured and began to cry.
"Part of the job," Wascomb said. "But you -- you've got the spark, but you won't let the fire start. Christ, I came up here and hired an all night whore who's probably still sitting in the motel. I never thought I'd get into your bed, but I knew just seeing you would make me homy as hell so I took out insurance."
"Thanks a bunch," the distressed blonde said. "Sarcasm will get you on the shit list," Wascomb continued.
"I speak as your editor and also a man -- who -- had never had such wild fucking in a misspent life. Now you make damn good money. If you want to continue, you listen! Or walk. Pay you for two more stories, walking around money. Or you go my route."
"And what's that?" the blonde girl shot back defiantly. "I was born naked and the undertaker will make me naked again before he lays me out, so..."
"You have a short fuse," he said, raking his hair again with the fingers her throbbing cunt knew too well. "You're also talking like very bad Mike Hammer," He looked at her naked body almost in sorrow, admiring the beautiful curve of her thighs and buttocks, the thrusting of her high-set firm breasts and saw the nipples hardening, the sheen of saliva on her sensuous lips. Would she go down? Suck him? He thought she would. Hell, he'd never known a chick over thirteen who hadn't had a cock rammed into her mouth, but this one seemed to be different somehow. And how sweet it would be to cum in her beautiful mouth. Yet he had believed her ridiculous story of young love and maybe she didn't do it for the sheer pleasure of fucking or getting eaten or having a cock deep in her throat while her smooth cheeks, wet with the saliva of desire, drew on it.
But something deep inside told him to hold back. This was no ordinary female. The sidewalks of New York were lined with some of the best blow jobs in the world, and most of them could be had for a couple of drinks, dinner and light chatter. They pulled so easy and most were fun girls. Honey kissers.
Lying between your legs, your spent cock deep in their mouths, the tongue moving over the tender head. And then they knew how to slowly slither up the sweaty bed and kiss in a way that the cum was swallowed together, still hot and salty and living. The sperm spinning their tails, or whatever it was they did while swallowing the cum.
Wascomb was afraid this one would choke and spit.
He knew it took months of gentle teaching to make a good cocksucker out of a girl... teaching her to lick and kiss and erotically tease.
There were no months, there weren't even days. He had a few hours to do his job and be gone on the antique motorcycle. No time for education into the fine art of cocksucking, which had been taught to him years before by a friendly prostitute who didn't mind talking about her work, which was rare in itself. Not quite believing, he had tried it with a young and loving and almost virginal girl named Polly after doing just enough drinking to make him slow in arousing his cock. He had been good with her before, and she cried when there was no hardness, lying across his hard-muscled belly as her fingers clutched his balls.
The wetness of her tears soaking his pubic hair. She held his flaccid penis against her cheeks and the blood took over, began to flood it, make it long and thick, the purplish mushroom-shaped head swelling and becoming tender. She had mounted him and tried to get him into her lubricious cunt, and he had softened and she cried harder, her beautiful face burrowing between his widespread thighs.
And finally in desperation she had gulped his penis into her soft, warm lips, sucking hard.
Wascomb had been afraid once he came up, she would want to fuck, but bound what the whore had said was right - "Once you get it in your mouth, that's all a girl wants... and a sweet kiss on the pussy later."
He lay back and let her learn how to suck cock, and she learned fast, didn't try to pull away in the final minutes as he gripped her bobbing head and held it tight while he spurted his hot cum into her gulping mouth.
And then she had lain, still sucking and tonguing, and she had fought him off when he tried to ease her hot lips from his diminishing cock...
Yet weeks had passed before she learned the nuances.
How to take all of him into her mouth and down her throat without gagging, even though both of them wanted it.
When to stop sucking and just teasingly lick the tip of his throbbing staff and then go down again, agonizingly slow, her long dark hair tickling his belly and thighs as her cheeks went hollow and then ballooned with the stiffness of his cock in her mouth.
Wascomb had taught her to play sixty-nine, but she didn't like it.
"Your tongue and lips in my - my cunt -- distract me. I want to taste you, feel your heart," she said.
After that they flipped a coin to see which would go first, and the nights became long.
They laughed when the produced a calendar and pointed out unmistakably they hadn't fucked in four months and she, grinning, said, "It would be different."
"Isn't this the wrong time of the month?" he asked.
"Hell! I forgot... it's been so long!" she said. "Save it two days!"
"I'm homy now. Kneel over the bed." Submissively, Polly had, not knowing what he planned until she felt his penis at the tight little rose of her anus.
"Nooooo!" she moaned as the thick head of his rampant cock massively jammed into her, and his strong hands grasped her shaking ass-cheeks. She fell forward, feeling the thickness of him in her tight rectum... and then he was fucking deep up into her ass and she could only moan, "Ooooggghh!... Uuuummmm... YESSSS!
But that girl had not been a Donna Eagles, not by the stretch of any imagination. In time the affair wore out and Polly found a man who was dull but nice and married him, and it was a friendly parting. By chance they met on a slow afternoon in a discreet bar and talked, finding out they still liked each other. It was dark and silent except for the muted transistor of the bartender who was trying to pick up on five baseball games at once, having bets laid. She reached under the table.
"You're hard," she whispered.
"With you, always," he said. "Who could forget?"
"I love him. I could never cheat."
"No you couldn't. I'm glad you found him... I'm a bummer."
"Nice bummer... do you think that ball game the barman's so involved with will go on a while?"
"I think it's only the bottom of the third, and he's got some bread down."
"Can anybody see us?"
"I can hardly see you."
"Kiss good-bye, then?"
"I thought you just laid a line on evil me about loving your husband. Kissing leads to more."
"Dum-dum," the girl said. "He's a great guy. Every way, and particularly in bed." Suddenly she became serious as she went on. "He's the greatest thing, really. And if I hadn't known you, I could never hold him... or anything important. Like this guy has been around. I have to be more woman than he can imagine... "
"You're more woman than any man can imagine. If I was the kind of man worth a damn at being married, I'd want you."
"You're beautiful," she said. "Move a little." She pushed demandingly and he moved, still feeling her slender fingers grasping his cock through his summerweight pants. Her throat muscles were throbbing in a way he knew well and she whispered. "You're sure it's only the third inning?"
"Maybe top of the fourth."
"I'm not being unfaithful. I love my husband... so much! But you taught me... sucking, fucking, even enjoying it in the bottom... I get the hottest orgasms that way, but he likes my mouth... now, friend, lean way back and lie like a statue the way you used to do and let me give you a good-bye kiss. By the way, how many innings or whatever it is, do they have in ball games?"
"Nine. Maybe more of them if there's a tie. I don't know much about it."
"Enough time for the kiss."
She pushed him back into the curved leather booth and lay on it, her skirt riding up to show bikini panties. Slowly, she drew the zipper of his pants down and opened his belt and then pulled his shorts down almost to his knees.
His penis was hard as a rock, throbbing.
With a sigh of desire, she crawled onto the couch between his open legs and kissed the blood-swollen tip as he had taught her, her tongue swirling into the little hole from which the sweet semen would eventually spurt.
"Oooohhh... " he sighed, submitting to her oral caress. It seemed to go on and on forever. He could feel his balls draw up to his groin, and he imagined the hot cum in his balls, going up the thickness of his cock into her soft, salivating mouth as it had so many times before. She was good. She was magnificent! And so eager and tireless. Most girls liked to have a man pop quick and then seemed to think having cum on their tongue and tonsils was some kind of insult.
This one worshipped the cock in her mouth. He finally began to fuck up deep into her tightly enclosing lips, ready to explode his hot cum, until finally she broke away, choking as the massive length of his penis plunged deep into her throat.
"What inning is it?" she gulped.
'Top of the eighth, I think. The score is tied. I don't know who's playing."
"I suppose that means there's time," she murmured, her lust-swollen lips wet with saliva. "Please don't cum too soon. This could be the last time."
Her soft mouth opened to engulf his penis in its full, rampant strength, her deft tongue running around like a frightened mouse under the fleshy foreskin. She was moaning with pleasure and inside him the sweet, white-hot sperm was ready to blast into her avid, delicate lips, emptying his taut balls. He could no longer hear the transistor radio... all he could hear was the liquid sucking sound of her magnificent mouth, and she went down wildly and slowly sucked her way up the length of his cock.
He lay back in the dim, empty bar, delighting in the warmth of her loving mouth, her deftly twirling tongue.
Oooh... she had learned so well. Time after time she brought Wascomb to the brink, the hot, sweet cum rising in his throbbing penis like the quicksilver in a thermometer... and then she took her mouth away and nuzzled and licked his loins in a slow, playful way until he subsided. And then she began it all over again, taking his balls into her mouth, tonguing and sucking so lightly before kissing slowly up the burning length of his staff until her hot lips were delicately kissing the blood-engorged head of his throbbing cock again before she gave him all her mouth and throat...
Christ, what a magnificent cocksucker... and so beautiful...
The ball game on the radio had gone into extra innings, and it was the bottom of the eleventh with somebody named Willie Mays up and the bases were loaded.
He heard the crack of the bat, and the sharp sound said the ball was going out of the park and it triggered him.
It felt like his balls were blowing up as he came in her soft, hotly wet mouth. He grabbed her head and jammed it down to his loins and fucked with all his strength into the tightly enclosing lips, watching her throat spasmodically clench as she drank down his wildly spurting semen while his hard cock plunged deep, and he heard the wet sucking sounds clearly over the racket from the bartender's radio and saw the thick silver-white strings of cum oozing from her still sucking bruised mouth.
She had lain with her head in his lap, her lips kissing his slowly deflating penis and her tongue licking it clean while the sports commentator recapped the highlights of the game.
Damn, but his prick was tender!
Her lips glistened with his cum as her head with its mane of almost blue-black hair finally came up, reluctantly releasing his now shrunken manhood.
"The good-bye kiss," she had whispered, gluing her soft mouth to his, pulling him tight to her as her cum-laden tongue slid deep into his mouth and he tasted himself and felt weak. She had been down on him for at least eight innings... a couple of hours... He hardly felt it as her fingers deftly zipped his fly and tightened his belt while her tongue was probing his mouth. She sighed and murmured, "Never again, unless he throws me away. Don't call me... I'll call you... " And as if nothing had happened, she had slid from the booth and walked away, her taut ass-cheeks clenching, her long, fine, slender legs scissoring in the near-darkness. He liked it that she hadn't gone to the ladies room. There she might have spit the tasted cum from her mouth. But she was licking her lips, and he knew her tiny belly was full of his sex.
At that moment he had a wild urge to run after her, catch her, take her away from the man she now called her husband.
And he never knew that all he had to do was go to the door and whistle.
Now he was comparing her with Donna Eagles, the most magnificent piece of ass he had ever found. God, how nice it would be to get his cock into her sweet mouth, or her ass. But he didn't think it was possible, even though their fucking had been so good.
Unfortunately, she was part of the organization, and he knew a smart dog doesn't shit where he eats. The publisher wouldn't mind an occasional friendly fuck between an editor and a writer, but anything that looked like it might get complicated would get both their asses sent down the road. And he knew that, despite Donna's passion, this had been a freak thing, the sort of event that happens about as often as Hailey's comet passes.
"Get a shitwork job," Wascomb told her. "Be a damn slave laborer. Anything where you can meet the kind of frustrated people you're writing for -- and they come in every walk of life. Get friendly... listen to their problems. How many people do you know in this town? Two dozen? Get involved - write people. Know them! Hate them! Love them!"
"I see what you mean," Donna murmured. She had been writing off the top of her head without realizing.
"And get more sex into the yarns. No four-letter words, but tantalizing, fleshy prose. Like, if a girl drops to her knees in front of a man with her lips swelling and parting, the reader is going to know damn well she isn't down there, praying. Handle the rest through interior monologue, her thoughts of how she wants to hold him so badly she'll make love in ways she'd never dreamed of and only heard whispered about and until this minute she hadn't believed... Got it?"
"I-I think so," she said, blushing, recalling her own wild, obscene, completely foreign desires... "Yes."
These readers are frustrated products of the Puritan ethic, so they have to get their jollies by fantasizing through the stories we publish." His unwavering gaze pinned the concerned blonde as he went on. "Tell me - have you ever had any kind of sex but what we had?"
"No," Donna replied, blushing. "And never as much... "
"Then go out and get some. Experiment. You've got a beautiful mouth. Try using it."
"You are despicable!" she gasped, reddened cheeks burning now.
"Learn to be all woman," he said, undisturbed. "Bye."
She was crying with shame and remorse, hating herself, as the old motorcycle roared away. How could she have ever been such a wanton? Yield so easily and with a passion she hadn't known was in her. It might have been different if Wascomb was a nice guy, but he wasn't. Quite the opposite, and now she felt soiled.
But, soaking in her bathtub, she realized there had been a lot of truth in what the caustic-tongued editor had said. No matter how hard she worked at it, Donna had to admit her writing was shallow. Well, it couldn't hurt to try what he said. Not about sex, but getting a job where she could meet people.
Yet, what kind of job? She had no skills that she could think of. With her face and long-limbed luscious figure, she could easily get work at one of the roadhouses or taverns, but she didn't like the atmosphere of such places and didn't think listening to the troubles of drunks would be of much help. A waitress? She doubted she could even keep orders straight, let alone carry trays full of food. Learning would take months, and at best it would be slave labor, leaving her too weary to even look at her typewriter.
Then Donna had it -- the police department! Its business was people in trouble. She could type and answer the phone and was good at interviewing. And she'd heard at the drugstore soda fountain some gossip that the matron who had the job now would be quitting because she was pregnant. Perfect!
Light of heart, Donna brushed out her pale-hued hair and carefully dressed in a soft summer shift, humming happily. She got her Toyota station wagon out and drove to the tree-shaded square, easily finding a parking space near the red brick police headquarters. Approaching it, she began to get an idea of what Wascomb had in mind when he told her to get out and live. For although she had written many times of people in police stations and jails, she had never in her life actually been inside one.
Intrigued, she looked around as the door swung shut behind her. There was not much to see. It was a small building and looked much like any other office. Filing cabinets, calendars advertising local merchants on the walls, a couple of desks at one of which a uniformed officer read a racing form in boredom, another where a plump woman typed. A radio squawked and the cop said something to it and it became quiet again. Only two things jarred her. The scent of strong antiseptic and a barred door at one end which she presumed led to the jail. Donna hoped she'd never be led through such a door. The woman came to the counter, spoke into an intercom system after Donna stated her business. The Chief of Police would see her immediately.
As it was a small town, the chief, a lean, graying man in civilian clothes, was a familiar figure although Donna had not had any reason to meet him until now. Courteously, he settled her in a chair beside his littered desk and heard her out, occasionally nodding.
"Ayeh... I can see how you might want the job." He toyed with an ancient and empty pipe. "Never met a writer in the flesh before. Sounds like you'd do, Miss Eagles. Improve the decoratin', too. Ayeh! Give you some forms to fill out, but the job won't be open for mebbe four - five months. Smitty, the girl out front, she's not that far along yet."
Donna Eagles' face fell, and she said earnestly, "Chief, this is something I need now. I've explained what my editor said, and I know you can understand... "
"I know babies take their time," he replied, not unkindly. "Now, there's other jobs that might fill your bill. You know Charlie Saunders, runs the market on South Street?"
"A little. I trade there." Donna replied.
"Hear Charlie's in need of someone. You meet a lot of people workin' in a market. Think the work is mostly cashier and markin' prices. Give him a call if you want."
"Oh, would you?" Donna said breathlessly. Why hadn't she thought of it first - she'd even noticed a Help Wanted sign in the window a couple of days earlier. "I don't have any experience, but then I don't need much salary."
"Anybody who can type can run a cash register," the chief said, shushing her and beginning to talk.
Less than an hour later, Donna had the first day-wage job of her life, and it almost frightened her. Somehow, she had never realized until now how many thousands of items even a small market held. This one was halfway between a country store and supermarket and had been in the Saunders family for over a hundred years. It lacked much of the brazen brightness of A&P or First National and although there was a large self-service section, part of the store went back to the last century with goods stacked on shelves to the ceiling and clerks using long grab rods to bring them down for customers. There were only two checkout aisles. A butcher had a small concession in the rear. The store concentrated on food and household necessities, selling neither toys nor power lawnmowers nor automobile accessories, and Donna thought this was perhaps why she had done her trading here rather than in the bigger placed with their somewhat lower prices.
Trade seemed to be good with smocked clerks stocking shelves, marking prices and hustling about their duties. Only one checkout line was open and several customers with shopping carts were waiting as a stout, jolly woman danced her fingers over the keys of a cash register and a boy who looked to be in his mid-teens deftly bagged up purchases and hurried them out to waiting cars for the housewives. He was tall and slender with medium-long light brown hair, dark eyes and regular features, and for a moment Donna caught her breath because in the way he moved, smiling quickly at the older woman as he went about his work, he reminded her of Alex -- that was his name -- Alex, the boy of long ago. And then Charlie Saunders was escorting her to his cubbyhole office.
The store proprietor was nearly in his sixties but not too old to look with great appreciation at the unfettered thrust of Donna's breasts and the long, tanned, curvaceous beauty of her decorously crossed legs. She hoped he wasn't a lecher, but men were men... They settled back to discuss the job. Donna had been afraid her wish to work only a limited time might cost her the position, but it worked to her advantage.
"Right now this is only until the summer people go - unless somebody quits," the round market owner said, his eyes on the definite outlines of her nipples against the thin summer dress. "Then things slack off until the maples turn, about middle of October, and we're busy for a few weeks. Another slow time until the ski folks come up. Not much to the job, except sometimes you got to be fast on the register."
"I'm sure I'll be clumsy at first," Donna said modestly.
"You seem to be a bright young lady - you'll learn." Then with a wink and appreciative glance at her bared legs, he said. "Might be we'll get a lot more men customers. Now, it's too busy to try teaching you the cash box at this hour. Can you come back at eight o'clock tonight, when we close? We'll show you around and give you your first lessons."
Donna eagerly agreed, even forgetting to ask how much she'd be paid as if it made any difference. She arrived just as the clerks and helpers were being passed through the door by Charlie Saunders, and with a smile he ushered her in. For a moment she was afraid they'd be alone in the deserted store, but then she saw the tall, handsome youth who'd been bagging groceries was at the rear, stocking shelves, and she felt better. She wondered who he was and soon found out.
His name was Eddie Young, and he was just fifteen; the jack-of-all-trades in the market. After Saunders introduced them, Donna found Eddie's dark eyes sliding slowly down her magnificently displayed figure and then shyly away. It had been a stare of awe rather than obscene in any way, and Donna found it sweet... and strangely exciting. But surely, with his lean good looks, Eddie must be meeting many, many girls younger and more beautiful than herself -- and much more scantily clad -- on the lake beaches and in the parks of this vacation area.
"Eddie is the bag boy as I'm sure you know, being a regular customer," the proprietor said. "He has to work very fast to box or bag the items you ring up, and it's important for you to tell at a glance which should be passed to him first. Now, Eddie, would you show Miss Eagles just how the cash register works while I pick out a few things?"
With that the man took a shopping cart and began picking items, apparently at random, from the shelves, taking his time while the youth, stammering a little, explained the workings of the machine, how it tabulated, subtotaled, figured sales tax and other intricacies. Donna could feel an excitement building within her that certainly couldn't be attributed to a new job, and she feared this strange surge and tried to suppress it and concentrate.
"Want to try it, just for fun?" he asked, moving in the narrow area to let her at the keys. She felt her tightly clenched ass-cheeks tremble when inadvertently she brushed against him and realized he had an erection! For her! Oh, God! Nooo! She averted her crimsoning face as she began to explore the keys of the cash register.
To Donna it didn't seem difficult -- at least her eyes were quick to focus on the keys she needed, and her fingers quick to find them. She was pleased with herself already. But the pleasure was short-lived as Saunders appeared with an overflowing cart that must have held a hundred items.
"All right, my dear, try it," he instructed.
With a gulp, the taffy-haired woman began grabbing items from the basket. Canned goods, frozen foods, packages of meat, eggs, assorted fruits, dog food, paper towels, cookies and God only knew what else, trying to find the prices and hit the keys right. Cold sweat broke out on her body. Eddie bumped her, throwing her off-balance a couple of times. And Mr. Saunders and Eddie were carrying on a stupid conversation about, the weather right in her ear and directing a lot of their comments to her until Donna was shaking, tipping things over clumsily, jamming the keys and wanting to scream at them to SHUT UP! God! She'd never imagined...
And then, finally, the ordeal was through and Eddie had what looked like a small mountain of boxes and gaping bags stacked while Mr. Saunders was carefully examining the list of charges which the machine had spewed out on its tape. Then, solemnly, he and the now-grinning youth counted the boxes and estimated their cubic footage. Then they began to put everything back into the shopping cart again. Donna was dismayed when she saw a carton of eggs emerge dripping from the very bottom of one box, a squashed flat sack of tomatoes from another, bruised apples, broken stalks of asparagus and what she could only think of as a general disaster.
Then Donna, wishing she could sink through the floor, watched as the two went through the entire routine again, the stocky older man's hands a blur and Eddie's also as one item after another was rung up and boxed. Instead of seven boxes, only three were needed this time. The solid, heavy items were in the bottom, the breakables on top and not an inch of space was wasted. And to make matters worse, the tapes didn't come close to matching. Donna had overcharged her fictitious customer more than seven dollars!
She felt tears being to flow and wordlessly started for the locked door, wanting only to escape and never come back. But Mr. Saunders caught up with her and, paternally patting her shoulder, told her not to feel badly, that it happened to everybody at first, and in a couple of days, she'd breeze through like a veteran. She was amazed, first at her ineptness at what had seemed such a simple task, and then that he would even consider giving her the job she needed so badly. Yet he wanted her back in the morning and with a benevolent chuckle told her that the way things had been mixed up in the basket, the way he and the lean youngster had chattered inanely, and Eddie bumping her, had been intentional, just to give her an idea of the confusion she would be facing. The proprietor said she could work out on the checkstand during the slow hours and handle less demanding work when things got busy. And Eddie would be there to fix any problems while she was learning.
Gratefully, Donna thanked the man as he let her and Eddie out and locked the door. She was startled to realize it was almost ten o'clock at night.
As Saunders disappeared toward his Buick, Donna let out a deep sigh of relief and heard Eddie chuckle close beside her.
"Don't feel bad, Miss Eagles," the youth said. "Nobody wins the first round with that monster. You'll do okay."
"Thanks," she said ruefully, and then realized that because of her the teenage youth had surely missed his supper, and she felt indebted to him. She turned and touched his muscular young arm, the outthrust nipples of her breasts almost brushing his chest as he stood tall and shy in the light of a street lamp. Almost choking on the words because she felt the heat again and now guilt and wondered how deep the unconscious motive was, she continued, "Eddie, you must be starved, and it's all my fault. Now, how about a burger or pizza and Coke before you go home."
"Gee, Miss Eagles, I'd like to but you don't have to. I can raid the icebox when I get home."
"Really, I insist - and I'm hungry, too. I was too nervous to eat earlier," the lithe blonde older woman said. "Unless your parents expect you home right away."
"Oh, no, they're in Pittsfield at a play or something. I'd just hang around with the guys, I suppose."
"Then, it's settled." Donna linked his arm with hers and steered him around the comer and down the block to the local pizza parlor which she gratefully saw was almost deserted. It would remain so until the last show at the area drive-in movie broke and the hordes of teenagers came, famished, from that passion pit. "I'm starving and while we eat maybe you can give me some tips on working at the market."
"Gee, if I can, sure, Miss Eagles."
"And as long as we're going to be working so closely together, you might as well call me Donna. The Miss coming from a handsome young man makes me feel old." She headed for a dim-lighted rear booth where they could talk. The lovely blonde knew she was digging into the grave of her past - but what harm could there be in a pizza with the teenager? Nothing more serious than heartburn, she tried to reassure herself, without much success.
"Gosh! You... old?" the boy blurted as he jackknifed his long adolescent frame into the booth. "I'll bet you're not over twenty-two!"
"Then I won't tell," Donna said, smiling with sensuous lips. "Now, let's order."
The pizza, when it came, was better than any she'd ever had in the place, and Eddie explained that the pimple-faced kid behind the counter was a good buddy and always laid everything on heavy. She was surprised to learn that Eddie's family owned the biggest feed and fuel store in town and asked why he was working in the market. He explained that Mr. Saunders had a nephew about his own age and that both his father and the market owner felt the youths could learn more if they didn't work in the family business so they had sort of exchanged boys for the summer.
"At your age, I think I'd rather be out at the lake," Donna said, and immediately regretted her words because she thought he might feel she was putting him down because he was a teen. She hastily added, "I mean, with the girls. Do you have a girl?"
"No steady," Eddie replied, looking at the swell of her breasts. "I date some, but not much because I don't have wheels. Just a bike. If I do good at the store, Dad says I can have a 'cycle." Eddie told her he spent most of his days off alone, fishing, but added that most of the lakes and streams were fished out or polluted and it was a wasted effort. Then, making her tremble, he added that the lake on her property was teeming with bass and trout. Donna thought a long moment before replying.
"Well, I've never caught a fish in my life, but if you want to try out there, you're welcome." Eagerly, he accepted. They finished the pizza, and she was secretly relieved when Eddie turned down her offer of a ride home, explaining he had his bicycle. As she hurried to her compact car, Donna felt the blood pulsing in her distending pussy lips. When she reached her farm, she quickly ran up the stairs, stripped off her clothes and fell naked on the bed, her hands going to her spreading thighs, teasing the sensitive flesh until she could stand it no more and urgently began to thrust her fingers into the steaming depths of her flowering cunt.
"Aaaahhhh!" she cried out in quick release, and in shame realized the figure of the handsome young boy was filling her mind's eye.
"Ooooohhhh...!"
After a couple of weeks, Donna realized one day she had caught onto the nerve-wracking intricacies of the job and was making few mistakes. Also, she had to admit the uncouth-talking editor had been right. She'd come to know more people in that short time than in the nearly two years since she'd bought the farm. She picked up enough scandalous gossip to keep her typewriter smoking for a year with stories about real people and their problems. Before, she had been only a pretty outsider, but suddenly she was on the way to becoming one of the accepted.
Predictably, the number of young men trading at the market increased sharply. She was invited out countless times but always made excuses. For one thing, it was an exhausting job. For another, she could not rid her mind of the wanton, shameless yielding to the foul-mouthed Wascomb. If she did that sort of thing once she might be tempted to do it again. She felt frequent stirrings in her young loins. The warm-blooded blonde knew that sooner or later she would have to yield to a man, either lover or husband. So she poured herself into the hectic drudgery of her work and in her spare time continued to write. Her first effort actually got a note of praise from Wascomb, which was rare as a unicorn.
The only disturbing factor was Eddie young. The handsome lad had to work so closely with Donna in the confined space of the checkout stand that their bodies were forever brushing, her long, curvaceous thighs pressing tightly to his, the soft warmth of a breast covered only by a thin summer dress crushing against his wiry biceps.
The quickly arousing honey-haired woman tried to repress her natural urges, but day by day she became more and more afraid of herself...
CHAPTER THREE
The market was closed on Sundays. Both Donna and Eddie had Mondays off. As yet, he hadn't taken advantage of her invitation to fish in the farm lake, an invitation Donna had come to regret with each passing day as her carnal yearning for the lean, handsome youth increased. Against her own lewd desires, she had even tried to find a proper girl for Eddie in a subtle way. Two had caught her attention.
One was a tall, slender pale-haired girl who might be seventeen or so -- not too old for Eddie. She had cornflower-blue eyes, wideset, if somewhat small, conical breasts, a narrow waist that flowed tantalizingly into perfectly sculpted flaring hips and a saucy, heart-shaped derriere. Her long legs were sleek, with sun-bronzed thighs molding into gracefully curving calves.
Donna learned her name was Norma Swenson, and she was the daughter of the man who ran the electrical shop in town. She had a nervous way of sliding the tiny pink tip of her tongue over her sensuous lips and she seemed almost as shy as Eddie when she was in the store. Paying for her purchases, she would make little jokes or small talk with Donna,' her eyes wide and innocent, and she would hardly glance at the youth. Donna never saw her in the company of a boy, always with other girls.
The second prospect was physically Norma's opposite. Petite and dark eyed. The eyes seemed to sometimes show the fear of a startled deer. She was curvaceous, with big yet firm breasts which were always tightly confined in a brassiere. Her dresses came almost to her knees. Her nose was slightly pugged, her mouth wide and with a soft, warm look to it, her cheekbones high giving a suggestion of Slavic ancestry. Donna knew the girl's name -- Sylvia Keene -- but beyond that she was something of a mystery.
She didn't dress in the casual way of other teenagers, but there was no mistaking the budding femininity beneath the loose-fitting clothes. Nor was there any mistaking the yearning way she looked at Eddie Young. The town gossip mill soon provided some answers.
Sylvia was an orphan, a distant relative of an itinerant preacher named Leo Harrope. A scrawny man of indeterminate age, he and the girl had appeared in the area a couple of months before, and he had lost no time in renting a vacant store in which he established a church of the fire-and-brimstone variety. As far as anyone could find out, he had invented his religion himself. With Yankee vision, the townsfolk predicted he would be gone overnight when the summer people left, having passed his basket.
He gave Donna Eagles the creeps, and she felt sorry for Sylvia. It was plain he didn't let the girl have any contact with boys. Yet his own beady eyes were always on Donna's lushly curved body every time he came into the store. He was the only customer with whom she was curt almost to the point of rudeness but her attitude seemed lost on him.
So those were the two possibilities of disposing of her growing Eddie problem, and for disparate reasons Donna couldn't see how either would work...
* * *
On a Sunday morning, Donna decided to not even look at her typewriter. Although it was not yet ten o'clock, the sun was blazing hot, and the pond beckoned. Recalling the way Wascomb had caught up with her there when she was wearing nothing but a shirt, she found a bikini and carefully secured it to the bulging curves of breasts and buttocks. It was too small, she thought as she surveyed her lithe figure in a mirror, but better than nothing. Over it she put on a terry cloth beach robe. Taking a book for later, she went down to the pond, dropped the robe and book in the tall, sweet smelling grass under an ancient elm and strode to the end of the creaking old dock. She noticed the canoe was leaking a little and thought she must get a can and bail it, or turn it up on the little beach. With that the voluptuous blonde drove into the water, going deep, shuddering in its chill as she kicked her long, shapely legs and rose toward the glimmering surface. Goose bumps rose on her tanned skin and she shuddered, treading water before striking out across the sun glittering placid pond. She swam until she felt like ice and then ran in the hot sun and threw herself down in the tall grass. She realized she'd forgotten a towel, but it was of no consequence -- the heat of the day would dry her shivering body quickly.
Donna tried to read but found the book dull. Then, cradling her face on her crossed arms, she let herself drowse. Footsteps on the planking of the dock brought her back to reality and she rolled over, breasts proudly upthrust, long, sleek legs curling under her as she saw Eddie Young arriving with a fishing pole and tackle box. His eyes boggled when he caught sight of Donna's nearly naked figure and he stopped suddenly, his eyes captivated by her sensual beauty so flagrantly revealed.
Donna reached for her beach jacket, but it was twenty feet away, under the tree. To scurry for it would only increase the sudden tension, so she smiled, nervously moistening her wide, generous lips with the flicking tip of her tongue and managing to say, "Hi, Eddie. Going to try your luck, I see."
The lean youth managed to nod as he shuffled sandaled feet. He was bare chested and wore only faded, patched blue jeans. She could see the hardening of his cock under the tight pants as he said, "Hi, Donna... yeah. There should be some whoppers in the lake. Okay to use the canoe?"
"Sure, Eddie," the flustered honey-haired woman said, feeling the warmth of her arousing pussy-lips and knowing her nipples were stiffening and lengthening against the fabric of the tiny bikini. She was glad he didn't want to fish from the dock. That would have put him just too close for comfort. She thought she had never seen a more handsome physique, and in the past weeks Donna had come to know the boy inside it was really nice, always courteous to everyone, even the repulsive minister. "You'll have to dump some water out."
He grinned and loped to the dock. She couldn't take her eyes from the ripple of his long, strong muscles as he effortlessly drew the canoe onto shore, overturned it and emptied it before refloating it, putting his fishing gear in and smoothly paddling away. She watched until he vanished behind a line of brush and trees.
When he was gone, Donna quickly got her jacket. Suddenly, feeling the flush of wanton desire suffuse her, she decided she needed a drink. A big drink. And she rarely had more than one weak one a month. At the old farmhouse, the aroused blonde debated on whether she should remain there, putting temptation out of sight if not mind. She rejected the thought as she mixed a tall pitcher of gin and tonic, squeezed a lemon into it and after it had been well chilled by ice cubes, poured it into a party Thermos jug. She carried it back to the grassy area and poured a strong one into a plastic cup, hastily gulping half of it down.
The gin went off like a bomb in her stomach. It seemed like only a minute or two passed before the nervousness began to abate. Sighing in a way that strained her bikini top, she refilled the cup and put it by her side as she tried again to get interested in her book. Far across the pond she could see the boy. He was kneeling in the canoe and his fishing pole was bent almost double. It took him several minutes to net his catch, and when he did, she could see it was big. He soon began to cast again, and Donna went back to her book, occasionally sipping from her drink as the sun slowly arced across a cloudless sky. She lost track of time until she heard the canoe bump against the dock and saw Eddie coming with a string of three large fish.
"Two trout and a smallmouth bass," he said proudly. "Big, hey?"
"Magnificent," Donna concurred. She saw the sweat rolling down his tanned, muscular chest and realized he must be thirsty. She added, "Why don't you take them up and put them in the old refrigerator in the bam, Eddie? And help yourself to a Coke or something. You must be parched."
Even as she spoke, the luscious blonde older woman felt a trembling in her loins. She could no longer deny her wanton and obscene desire for this boy who was only half her age. She had to do something to bank the raging fire in her loins. Abruptly she gulped the remainder of her second drink, peeled the short robe from the quaking curves of her lust-consumed body and ran at full speed down the dock and again her sleek body knifed into the water. She forced herself to swim the width of the pond without looking back, and when she turned she could see the tall handsome boy sitting where she had been, thumbing through her book.
Now the icy water had done its work, and she felt it safe to return. She swam slowly to the old, homemade ladder at the end of the dock and climbed it, her breasts jiggling, her hips swaying as she ascended.
The mishap occurred as she took her first step on the aged planking of the dock. A splinter the size of a cocktail toothpick stabbed into the sole of her foot, going deep.
"Aaaauuuuuggghhhh!" Donna screamed in sudden pain, and fell on the rough boards, clutching her foot.
Eddie was running to her, bending over her, quickly seeing what had happened. He whistled and said, "Oh, Donna!"
"It hurts," the blonde moaned. "Do you think you can pull it out?"
"One way or another," he said grimly. His strong young arms went under her pain-wracked body and seemingly without effort he lifted her. Every movement seemed to make the pain worse and Donna clutched him tightly around the neck, her head buried against his tanned shoulder, her firm, almost bare breasts flattening on his chest as he carried her to the grass and gently laid her down. He ran for his tackle box, looked dismayed and came back. "Dam it, I don't have any pliers with me! It's too big for tweezers. Better call the doc -- I don't want to try cutting it out."
"Oh, God, it hurts," Donna moaned. "And this is Sunday. Not much chance of getting a doctor. Eddie, do something!"
Eddie thought for a minute. He tried to work the splinter out with his fingernails but couldn't get a grip on it. Finally he said, "You got any alcohol?"
"Just some gin in the kitchen," the pained woman whispered.
He was gone and back on the run with the gin bottle. Gently he lifted her leg, his strong hands sliding tantalizingly up the smooth flesh of her calf, and lay it across his own legs as he knelt over her. He poured gin around the wound and the ugly piece of wood. Then, grimacing, he put the bottle to his mouth and let the burning liquid pour. He sloshed it around in his mouth for a long minute. They way it tasted, it must be capable of killing any germ in the world, he thought.
"Try to hold still -- if it breaks we've just gotta find a doc or a nurse or somebody." Now he was no longer the shy young boy. He was a growing man confronted with an emergency. "Lucky I've got sharp teeth."
The splinter was in Donna's left foot. With almost iron strength his left hand gripped her ankle and his right her trembling calf as his head went down to the sole of her foot. She felt his lips and tongue, and despite the pain it tickled and aroused her and her leg jerked. His right hand instantly slid up the smooth hot contours of her leg, past her shapely knee, fingers finally digging into the soft, sensitive flesh of her inner thigh painfully. He drew the leg tight as his hot lips pressed wetly against the sole of her foot. He had to work his gin-reeking mouth around for a long time before he was able to grasp the long fragment of wood between his teeth.
With infinite slowness, the boy pulled at it, not daring to breathe for fear of snapping it off. Donna was moaning but lay still. He could feel her heartbeat. She jerked a little and he shoved his right hand higher, until his fist opened wide and grabbed her cuntal mound. Dimly it seemed to him the sound of her moans changed.
Then suddenly the splinter began to come out. Another minute and he had it. Proudly his head came up with the treacherous shaft of wood still clutched in his teeth.
"Oooh, thank you, Eddie," Donna whispered. They remained stiff as statues, eyes locked. "It feels so good now."
"Whew!" Eddie said and looked down at the recumbent blonde with her taffy-colored mass of wet hair spraying out on the carpet of grass. And then he looked down the length of his right hand. He had pressed so hard against her pubic mound, fingers digging into her secret flesh, that the scanty bikini bottom had snapped loose and the triangle of cloth fallen away so that his hand was tight against the soft, lubricious lips of her pussy, with its little fringe of curly pale hair. He had never touched a woman there before... and could he be wrong or was her pelvis beginning to undulate, return the pressure? Suddenly Donna's blue eyes were heavy lidded, her sensuous lips parting as the little pink tongue wet them and she sighed softly. He knew he should jerk his hot hand away, but couldn't. He could only mutter, "Oh, my God!"
"Eddie... Eddie... Eddie... " the now panting blonde sighed. "I don't think I can walk too well."
Again he scooped her up in his arms. Donna shut her eyes and clung tightly to him, feeling the rock-hardness of his young cock rubbing against her nearly bare buttocks. She knew she was lost. A mixture of shame and uncontrollable sensuality swept over her. He carried her into the house and carefully laid her on the sofa in the living room.
"Got any kind of antiseptic?" he said in a choking voice, his eyes glued to her reclining body. She told him there was some in the bathroom medicine chest. He found it and in minutes had cleaned the wound and taped a compress to it. Once the first aid was done his eyes returned to her loveliness. It was unbelievable. His cock felt like a bar of iron ready to burst from his pants. He trembled and moved to kneel over her, wanting to touch her beautiful pussy again but afraid to, because before it had been an accident, really. But she was lying there, a pale-haired goddess, and seemed almost drunk or drugged. Her bikini top had slipped to expose one long hard pink nipple centered in a perfect globe. Her lips were heavy, parted. Groaning, he pressed her down and his mouth sought hers and he felt Donna tremble violently in the moment before her arms locked tight around his back and her hot, moist lips began to move against his own. She was moaning and her tongue was sliding between his lips in a way he'd never known. His hand moved to cup the firm warmth of her breast, pulling the scanty cloth away, and he marveled at the smoothness and heat of it while Donna's belly heaved and her legs scissored restlessly.
Her soft moaning continued. The pain in her foot was forgotten now as her aroused body writhed in illicit passion. She sucked his probing tongue deep into the saliva-filled softness of her mouth. His free hand reached under her back and fumbled with the snap of her slipping bikini top. Her nostrils flaring, she squirmed and reached back, her fingers quickly loosing the restraining fabric, freeing her firm, proud breasts completely.
"Woooooowwww!" the aroused teenage boy mumbled against her hot mouth, and he slid lower to take first one nipple and then the other into his inexperienced but ardent lips. Little twinges of pain surged arousingly through Donna's loins as she felt the scraping of Eddie's teeth. Then he was wetly sucking on the quivering globes even as his fingers slid down her undulating body, over the gentle swell of her tiny belly and encompassed her cuntal mound.
"Ummmmmmmmm... " she sighed, shamelessly, and ground her pussy up to his digital manipulations. Her hand reached for the front of his pants and felt the long, urgent hardness there and she squeezed it wantonly, wanting it in her belly, plunging deep. She raised her buttocks so he could slip the loosened triangle of bikini from her burning hot loins. Her Bartholin glands were gushing lubricating fluid down the hot channel of her cunt and the aroused beauty knew she was more than ready to spread her legs wide and engulf the hot young penis in the delicate folds of her tingling pussy. She was fumbling to yank the zipper of Eddie's jeans down when she remembered that it was on this sofa she'd had her first obscene sexual contact with Wascomb. She just couldn't do it here with this innocent young boy -- it would be desecration!
Then her bedroom. But no! How many times had the editor fucked her there? She thought of the smaller guest bedroom just a few feet away on the ground floor and momentarily halted the aroused youth's ardent if inexperienced lovemaking.
"Down the hall... the bedroom," the burning hot blonde gasped.
Eddie carried her there naked and eased her onto the bed. He stood for a moment, gazing at Donna in wonder and amazement. He had never thought anything like this would be possible. God, she was so beautiful... and an older woman... and she wanted him!
Trembling with desire, Donna reached for him and with a deftness she didn't know she possessed unsnapped his jeans and ran the zipper down. Instantly his young cock sprang out, hard and throbbing, as his jeans dropped away and he kicked out of them.
"Ooooooohhhh... so beautiful!" the long-denied woman whispered, reaching to touch it, take it into her nervous fingers and guide him into the wide-stretched vee of her long, slender legs. Shaking with nerves, the boy rose above her in a push-up position as she rolled his loose foreskin back over the purplish mushroom-shaped head of his penis and guided it to the flowering outer lips of her pussy. She felt him tense, and knew he was on the point of ramming it into her yearning belly, but she wanted to prolong this beautifully carnal moment and she cried softly, "Not yet! Let me savor you... " Her eyes closed to passionate slits, she slowly moved the warm bulbous head up and down the full length of her softly furred cunt, feeling it become slick with her own juices. She held it against the tingling nub of her clitoris for a moment, and then drew it down between the blood-engorged pussy lips and into the crack of her wide-splayed ass-cheeks. Her fingers stroked the rigid rod passionately.
She could feel the urgent pulsing and the warm sticky fluid that oozed from the little hole at the tip to mingle with her own liquid outpourings of unsatisfied lust. Finally, her eyes now wide and glassy with her illicit desire, she looked up at the passion-contorted face of the handsome youngster and drew the knob-shaped tip of his cock between the inner lips of her pussy, placing it at the yearning entrance to her cuntal channel. Her trembling other hand went to his tightly clenched buttocks and as she pulled Eddie downward, arched her back and jerked her pelvis up. The gaping lips of her tight hair-fringed cunt devoured the rigid shaft of his young manhood, literally sucking him deep up into her yearning loins with one swift movement.
"Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!" Donna moaned, writhing as she felt the tree-like penis plunge into the soft coral-hued depths of her body, and her tender flesh rolling ahead of the arrow-shaped tip in tantalizing waves until in an instant the plundering head smacked against the yearning mouth of her womb and his young, sperm-filled balls slapped against her widely stretched ass-cheeks. Her legs flew into the air and clamped his back, holding him deep within her demanding cunt and her fingernails now began to bite into his lean, muscular back. Thrusting her softly furred mound up with all her strength, trying to bring him impossibly deeper into her, Donna cried out, "Ooooooooooh! I need this so!"
For minutes she held him so tight he couldn't move other than to flex the great rod of steel-hard flesh in her, and Donna found muscles she didn't know she had clenching and sucking at the invading cock. And Eddie, unexpectedly involved in his first sexual encounter with a woman, followed her lead. Her lust-contorted face looked adoringly up at him as she slowly began to move, her pelvis rising and falling but still keeping his virile young cock deep in her pussy.
God, but she was hot and wet inside, and so beautiful with her damp hair fanned out over the pillow! He never knew it was like this! And her tits! Her beautiful tits! With a groan he cupped them in his young hands and began to squeeze. And then he could stand the slow motion no longer and began to grind against her cunt, jerking back, plunging deep and rejoicing in the mewling sounds of pleasure from her gaping mouth as she fervently matched his reaming strokes, the tender, wet lips of her cunt seeming to gobble up the length of his rampant penis like a hungry mouth. Donna gasped with pleasure as his scrotal sac with its heavy load of boyish semen smacked repeatedly against the tight-puckered hole of her anus. The totally aroused blonde began grinding her clenching buttocks in small circular motions as she wildly fucked her cunt up the full length of his reaming organ.
Rising on his elbows, the boy looked down over the sweating smoothness of Donna's quivering belly and with disbelief saw his rampant cock withdraw from her cunt with the velvet soft lips sucking hungrily at it until only the bulbous tip remained between them, and he marveled at the way it disappeared like a greased pole into the heaving warmth of her straining body. He had never known such pleasure was possible. Her pussy was vise-tight around his tingling organ and he was fucking deeper and faster with every stroke. For a moment, hearing Donna's wild cries, he thought he was hurting her, but then she sank her sharp little teeth into his shoulder and drummed her heels on his back and he knew she wanted more.
"OooooOoh, my God!" Donna Eagles cried out. The vision of what she must look like, arms and legs tightly clamped to a boy half her age as he screwed her with the passion of adolescence came to her and excited her even more. She no longer cared about the right or wrong of this. All she wanted was MORE! Thrashing on the bed, she managed to throw both legs over his shoulders and lock her ankles together, stretching the plane of her genitals drum-tight, completely opening herself to the rampant cock as she moaned her lewd pleasure. The room was filled with liquid sucking and slapping sounds and the musky scent of their wild coupling, and she was now powerless to move... all she could do was lie obscenely contorted beneath the humping boy and be deliciously fucked! Now his cock was sliding up and down her warm, lubricious passage like a battering ram, reaming the most intimate depths of her burning loins. Donna didn't want this deliciously depraved sensation to ever end, but with each slap of his balls against her defenseless rectum, she wanted more and more to feel the gushing of his hot young sperm into the desire-ridden cavern of her cunt and fill her rippling belly.
She could feel her orgasm approaching like a flash-flood as her vaginal muscles twitched and sucked hard on the plunging, impaling cock. The hot juice burst free deep inside her almost without warning, with the suddenness of a rifle shot and poured down her cuntal passage like lava as every nerve in her body seemed to feel an electric shock.
"Aaaaaaauuuuuggggghhhhhh! Now! NOW! I'M CUMMMIIIINNNNGGGG!" Donna screamed. She reached and found his jiggling balls and warmly squeezed them with her fingers. "Cum with me... CUM IN MEEEEEEEEE!"
The panting, lust-crazed teenager could no longer hold back. Like a stream of fire he felt the first jets of semen shooting down the thick tube on the underside of his penis, searing the swollen head of his cock as spurt after spurt streamed into the wetly sucking pussy of the nearly crazed taffy-haired woman. He rolled and squeezed her breasts and cried out unintelligible sounds while she rolled and twisted beneath him in her painfully contorted position. Her orgiastic writhings almost frightened him, as did the twisted contours of her face, suddenly a grotesque mask he had never seen before. His wildly gushing cock was buried to the hilt up in the steaming depths of Donna's cunt, and she was clutching his testicles so hard it hurt... but it was a good kind of hurt.
Donna's internal muscles milked his exploding maleness and she felt her body filled with the heat of his ejaculation and she drew on him until his penis was drained and beginning to soften. But still she would not release the maleness of him, and slowly kept fucking up to his loins as, groaning with relief and joy, she managed to pull his mouth down to hers and suck his tongue deep into her throat. In a compartment of her mind, the satiated woman wished Eddie could be like Wascomb in one way -- a satyr, able to become erect time after time. If only she could have that, Donna thought, his cock endlessly hard in her yearning cunt. Yet for all his virility, the editor hadn't drained her as this handsome young boy had.
As she caressed him, Donna thought with some amusement that she, despite being almost twice as old, was without much more experience than Eddie Young. He had implied he was a virgin. Well, years ago there had been the one teenage boy, and less than a month ago Wascomb, so she didn't have much of a head start.
Maybe there were many delightful things they could learn together, teach each other through experimenting. Shamelessly, Donna wanted to experience every sensual joy with her young lover.
She wanted to feel his hot, passionate mouth on the lips of her pussy, and his tongue swirling deep inside it.
She wanted to taste his beautiful penis, draw it deep into her throat and suck on it.
With a start, Donna realized her most perverted and erotic ideas came to mind after she'd had sex, not before.
Perhaps because of the precipitous way their coupling had come about, Donna had not entertained any idea of Eddie performing cunnilingus upon her until this minute. And certainly she hadn't had the urge to fellate him then. Now the desire to engulf his penis in her soft mouth was overwhelming, but he was spent. If and when it happened, she wanted his cock long and rock-hard. As she sighed and disentangled herself, feeling his limp shaft slip wetly from the still clinging lips of her pussy, Donna wondered if Eddie would think of her as some kind of a pervert for wanting oral sex with him. Well, maybe she was, but she wanted it anyway!
As she stretched out beside the boy and clamped him in her arms and their sweat glistening bodies came tight together, Donna thought that the really strange thing about it all was that with her passionate nature, she had withheld pleasure from herself for so many years.
"Jeez, I never thought it was like that!" Eddie mumbled.
"It never was for me before," she sighed. "God, I want to do it again."
"You couldn't... you have to get your strength back. Me too," Donna whispered as her hand enclosed his flaccid member, feeling their mingled cum slick on it. She led his hand to her sopping-wet cunt and added, "Cuddle up and nap."
* * *
Dusk was closing in when Donna awakened. As they slept, their bodies had parted, and she was able to slip from the musk-scented bed. Remembering their passion and the sweetness of it, Donna stood naked for a moment, looking down at her young lover as he lay with limbs akimbo, his hair mussed, a suggestion of a smile on his sleeping face. His penis lay semi-limp across his thigh and she wanted to bend and kiss it, but didn't dare.
And with sleep had come realization and remorse at what she had done, corrupting a fine young boy in a way which society would surely condemn if ever if became known. She could be sent to jail. Certainly she would have to leave her delightfully comfortable little farm and go to some distant place. On bare feet she padded into the kitchen, where she made a strong gin and tonic and carried it into the living room. She lit a cigarette and restlessly ran her delicate fingers through the tangled mass of her wheat-hued hair as she fought with her conscience. She felt like one of the agonized heroines (heroine or harlot?) in the stories she wrote.
If only she could be fifteen again! Nowadays, teenage sex was calmly accepted by adult society.
But the seduction of a fifteen year old boy by a twenty-nine year old woman definitely was not.
In her troubled heart, Donna felt that what had happened was better for Eddie than if he'd gotten his sexual indoctrination from a girl his own age. She could give him maturity instead of just a few spasms of sensual pleasure -- perhaps with the idea of eventually trapping him into a miserable marriage with a promiscuous body. Marriage was one thing which was safely out of the question because of the disparity in their ages. As it was, they could be beautiful as lovers...
Donna, sipping her drink and caressing her tender breasts, faced the fact that only an enlightened psychologist who specialized in sex would be likely to agree with her reasoning. And such a person would likely be run out of staid New England on a rail if he let such a view be known.
"Well, Que sera, sera," Donna muttered to herself as she finished her drink and returned to the bedroom, turning on a dim night-light before lightly lowering herself to the cum-stained sheets and moving to press her body against that of Eddie.
His penis was lengthening and thickening again as he slept. Lightly Donna Eagles' fingers touched the swelling head and rolled the fleshy foreskin over the ridge...
CHAPTER FOUR
It was a bad afternoon for Norma Swenson, when it should have been a good one. It was her seventeenth birthday, and the slender blonde had been given a brand new Fiat roadster, which she had immediately set out to show off by slowly cruising the streets of the town and glorying in the attention she got from her contemporaries. She used up a full tank of gas riding them around and then parked conspicuously in front of the pizza parlor, into which she was followed by a gaggle of her girlfriends, all of whom had arrived in somebody else's car, or on bicycles, or even afoot. They filled three booths, and the inevitable swarm of teenage boys materialized and within minutes the groups were well mixed and noisily happy.
All except Norma, who should have been the happiest.
For she was surrounded by girls with whom she'd had lesbian sex, and youths who had tried to get into her skin-tight HotPants and failed through clumsiness and just plain pushing too hard.
The daughter of an indulgent, prosperous and permissive father, Norma had turned to girls for sex after the boys had mauled her and several times she had nearly been raped. An older woman - she must be all of twenty-five -- who worked in the town drug store had talked long hours with Norma as she sat at the old-fashioned soda fountain, sounding her out sympathetically.
There had been the invitation to visit in the woman's apartment and the skillful seduction, gently accomplished, so different from what the boys were always trying to do. Norma had responded and soon became the aggressor, learning to use her tongue and lips and hands for purely sensual pleasure. Through this period she dated boys, but it was always the same story. They wanted nothing but what she had between her legs and didn't give a sweet shit for her as a person.
Her lesbian lover left town after a hushed up scandal involving a secretary at City Hall, and Norma, starved for sexual release, discovered it was easy to "bring out" almost any girl she chose in such a way that her advances, if rejected, could never cause any of them to accuse her of trying to seduce them into unnatural sex. Her teacher had taught well.
But her field of conquest or prospective conquest was narrowing because of her own standards of beauty. Looking around, she counted nine girls with whom she more or less regularly had sex, and found them all lacking in physical beauty, if not ardent perverted desire. Oh, they were pretty enough, some even beautiful, but they were still graceless with baby fat. They giggled too much and thought that eating cunt was so wicked but fun! After her more mature lover, they were children to Norma Swenson.
She wanted someone exquisitely feminine, more beautiful than herself, and not a child. Her heart had leapt and her loins seethed with desire when she set eyes on Donna Eagles.
For a long time there had been no way to casually meet Donna and make a start on a seduction, because Donna -- a writer or painter or something -- was rarely to be seen. She didn't mix with the townspeople for such a long time. And then when Donna had for some reason taken a job at the market, Norma's heart soared and she began inventing reasons to go there, just so she could talk a few seconds while she ogled the high, wide-set breasts so plainly exposed in the short dresses Donna wore, and wonder how it would really feel to have those long golden legs tight around her own face while her lips wetly kissed the sweetness of Donna's pussy and her skilled tongue plumbed its juicy depths.
But Donna had not responded to any of the subtle lesbian overtures, which Norma thought a little strange. After all, it was common knowledge the statuesque woman didn't date. Or if she did, it was out of town, and there'd been no gossip about such a thing.
The other disturbing factor was Eddie Young.
Norma found herself attracted to him. He wasn't like the rest of the boys his age. He was, in fact, painfully shy. Deep in her heart, Norma did not want to be a lesbian. The thought of being bisexual - AC-DC, able to take pleasure from both sexes, appealed most to her. She was too far gone to give up the Sapphic delights she had discovered altogether.
If she could work something up with Eddie, it might be great. Norma was sure he wouldn't be like the others, grabbing her ass and tits and trying to get his fingers under the tight elastic of her sheer panties and on her virginal cunt until she was ready to subtly lead him to sliding the gossamer garment down her legs. But now Eddie was working next to Donna and she had not yet been able to connive a way to get them apart and make her move - whatever her move might be.
Damn it to hell and back! the tall young blonde teenager thought, and slipped away from the group unnoticed.
She gunned the sporty little roadster away, deciding to drive out her frustrations, taking rural roads aimlessly until by chance she found herself on the one where Donna's farm was situated. Through a gap in the trees, she caught a glimpse of the pond, and a figure in a canoe. It looked like Eddie. Quickly she braked and took a second look, recognizing him. Momentarily Norma wondered just what the devil he was doing there, and then thought that maybe Donna, working with him, had given him an okay to go fishing.
There was a narrow path through the trees and bushes. Norma parked the car and slipped down to the shore of the pond, wondering if she had the courage to hail Eddie. And then there was movement from the direction of the farmhouse, and Donna Eagles, wearing a bikini that was next to nothing, appeared, carrying a Thermos. Norma watched as Donna poured herself a drink and picked up a book and began to read. She tried to think of some excuse to move in on the voluptuous blonde but failed. The thought of just saying she was in the neighborhood trying out her new car would ring false, because she had no reason to show off her car to Donna.
"Shit!" she said under her breath.
Well, she could at least wait and see what happened. And it turned out to be a long wait. Her pink tongue was hanging out with desire for whatever it was Donna was drinking as well as for the soft, golden flesh of Donna herself.
Time rewarded her patience. She saw Donna's mishap on the dock, and her loins burned when she watched Eddie Young almost completely bare Donna's beautiful cunt as he mouthed the splinter from her foot. The burning increased when he carried Donna to the house.
Norma decided she might as well stick around and see what happened next -- and nothing was happening within her view as an hour went by. The crouching honey haired girl began to fill with anger and frustration. What could they be doing? Surely they weren't having sex, not a kid like Eddie and a full-grown woman like Donna Eagles. She thought maybe they were waiting for a doctor, but nobody came down the remote road. Unable to contain her curiosity longer, the lesbian girl moved toward the house, screened by the thick growth of bushes which surrounded it. She stayed to the rear so as not to be seen skulking by anyone who drove past.
The first window was the kitchen. Empty.
From another she peeked into the living room. Also empty. Rounding the comer of the old house she found a third window. This one was partly open and through the screening, crouching so only the top of her head showed over the sill, she heard panting and animal cries and wet sounds and the violent creaking of bedsprings. She was stunned and angry, and she had to see it!
Rising just enough to look, she gasped so loudly she was sure the tightly locked couple must hear her, but then she realized they were beyond hearing anything as suddenly the long, beautifully tapered legs of Donna Eagles swung up to lock passionately around young Eddie's neck while his slender-young cock plunged to its fullest up into her glisteningly lubricious cunt!
From this angle, the spying girl could see the lust-swollen pussy lips flexing and sucking voraciously at the rampaging spear of flesh. Donna's buttocks were splayed wide and with each ramming stroke of the boy's wetly gleaming penis his heavy balls smacked the tiny puckered rose of Donna's anus. Donna was almost bent double beneath the lustful fucking of her illicitly young lover and the contortions of sheer sensual delight that twisted her beautiful face into a mask said only too clearly she was reveling in this merciless abuse of her helplessly open genitals.
Their wanton coupling seemed to last forever until Donna suddenly screamed out her gushing completion and Eddie jackhammered his spurting cock to the absolute depths of her wildly jerking body.
And they were frozen in the grotesque position a long time before unlocking their sweat gleaming bodies. Norma watched the boy's limp cock slide from the pulsing lips of Donna's pussy, a string of thick whitish cum trailing from its head down the trembling flesh of Donna's thigh. When they tenderly embraced and were obviously going to fall asleep, the wildly excited high-school beauty could stand no more. She slipped away as quietly as she had arrived, stunned, feeling terribly cheated that the two people she really wanted were beyond her reach.
Or were they... ?
* * *
"Darling, you'd better go now -- it's dark," Donna Eagles whispered as Eddie drowsily woke with the movement of the bed as she moved against him, realizing his youthful penis was once again swollen with blood and desire for her. She must send him away and make sure this never happened again, was never found out. Yet her loins craved to be violated by his rock-hard flesh once more and she couldn't help but close her delicate fist around its slender length and slowly stroke it, feeling the hot pulsing of his arousal. Her own matched it and she yielded as he enclosed her in his strong arms and began to kiss her. She sighed, "Ummmmmmm... "
"I get to stay out until midnight on weekends," the eager boy said against her silky hot lips. "Please, Donna, I just gotta do it again. You know that."
Donna made no reply, which he took for silent refusal. He could understand it. Jeez, if anyone ever caught them... but who could? Teasingly his hands began to stroke her velvety flesh, tracing the rich mounds of her breasts, the flatness of her belly, the clenching half-moons of her buttocks, down her sleek thighs and up to the softly furred slit of her tinglingly sensitive cunt.
Eddie began to kiss her fervently; her neck, her eyes, her ears and slowly shifted lower until he was crouched over the twin peaks of her aching breasts. His mouth came down on first one and then the other, his tongue licking wetly as his eager lips sucked them far into his salivating mouth. Donna groaned with pleasure yet hardly moved. Eddie was sure he'd have to do more. Guided by an instinct as old as mankind, he moved lower, his tongue wetly laving her sweetly salty flesh, the fluttering tip tracing lines of liquid fire across the quivering mound of Donna's little belly. He felt her hands come to his head, and, sure that she was going to make him stop, he pushed them away and continued his passionate kissing, his mouth gliding around the fleecy golden triangle of Donna's vaginal mound and down her now restlessly moving leg.
Ooh, God! He's going to do it! He's going to go down on me! Once sure that her illicit lover's salivating mouth would be caressing her yearning nether lips, Donna Eagles knew she could never move to stop him, not if this was the greatest sin in the world! Yet she found herself trying to keep her long shapely legs together, stirred by some remaining fragment of what was right and what was wrong. Yet the aroused taffy-haired beauty knew it was only a token protest as she felt his hands easily prying them open into a wide-stretched vee as he knelt between the beautifully curved twin columns.
Then his seeking mouth was on the ultra-sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, his tongue flicking wetly, and she felt her body yield and her pelvis begin to undulate sinuously in lewd invitation. She could feel his hot breath on the very lips of her pussy now, parting the silken curls which fringed it. His hands slid under her wide-splayed ass-cheeks and she raised her knees, wide open for the impending oral caress.
The sweet woman scent of Donna's pulsing vagina filled the teenage boy's nostrils and they flared like those of a stallion teasing a filly. God, he couldn't believe it, that he was doing this -- wanted to do it. He'd heard the guys talking about eating pussy and just the thought of it had revolted him, and he couldn't understand it. Now that his own moment had come, he understood everything. In the dim-lighted room, he could hear Donna making little mewling sounds and weakly whispering for him to stop, but nothing could stop him now, and the way she was squirming made him sure she really didn't want him to stop. Her long slender fingers were lewdly caressing the soft thatch of her pubic hair, and he could stand it no longer.
With almost an animal growl of determination, he plunged his wet mouth into the soft fur of her, his tongue probing the sweet fleshy slit of Donna's pussy. He felt her jerk wildly, and then her cunt was grinding frantically against his seeking mouth.
He had never tasted anything so delicious in his entire life.
"Ooooooohh... Ooooooohhhhhh... Darling Eddie!" the wantonly aroused Donna crooned, grinding her buttocks on the cum-stained sheet and feeling her vulva flower open to his wetly delving tongue. Unable to restrain herself, she reached down with both hands, caressing his beautiful boy's face and with her thumbs stretched her juice-laden cunt lips wide to give his lingual member the fullest possible access to her most secret and sensitive flesh. Eddie might lack the expertise which the lecherous Wascomb had demonstrated, but she knew he was doing this out of love and not because by mere chance he happened to see her nearly naked and crudely overpowered her with a rough verbal assault. Donna ran her fingers through the youth's hair and pulled his face, now shining with her cuntal fluid, tight to the vee of her loins and began to thrust up to him with urgent but tantalizingly slow fucking motions.
Eddie, panting with his need to taste more and more of this new and unimagined delight, fluttered the curling tip of his tongue from one side of the gaping cunt to the other, licking up the delicious secretions from the soft coral-hued inner flesh. He explored the full length of the steaming furrow and when he felt Donna jerk and gasp as he reached the tiny button of her clitoris he whirled his tongue around and around it. Then he closed his lips, wet and hot, over the miniature penis and sucked furiously, his head rising and dipping in rhythm to Donna's uncontrollable writhings.
"Eat me! Oooooohhhhh! EAT MEEEEEEE!" the totally abandoned older woman screamed, her legs thrashing, thighs clamping like satin around his burrowing face. Her loins were on fire and in minutes the fire burst out of control and gushed down the dark passage of her pussy to pour into the boy's avaricious mouth. She jerked almost spastically against him and cried out, "Eddieeeeee... I'm cuuummmmiiinnnnnggggg! Don't stop! Keep licking meeeeeee!"
Stunned and delighted that he could give his newfound woman such overwhelming pleasure with only his mouth, the teenage boy ravenously continued his ardent devouring of her soft, delicious pussy, and Donna kept cumming and cumming and sobbing out endearments and her long legs held his head prisoner while her hands drew him with the strength of insane passion to the depths of her totally aroused womanhood. She was fucking her cunt up to his delving face so hard that his jaw was beginning to ache as he made his tongue firm and sent it far up the flexing channel of her gushing vagina. He became aware of his own need. Damn, this was making him so big and hard he thought his cock might bust from its skin like a boiled hot dog!
Lost in her sexual frenzy, her body deliciously wracked by one continuous orgasm, Donna twisted and jerked and spasmed. She was unaware of just what was happening to her as Eddie suddenly broke free of her wanton grasp, reared over her and with one lunge buried the burning spear of his cock to the hilt in her bucking body.
"Noooooooo!" Donna almost screamed, trying futilely to escape the sudden impalement, which brought her shockingly back to reality. "Eddie! Wait a minute! Please!"
"Damn, I can't wait!" the boy groaned as he began to fuck deep up into her heaving wet loins. He couldn't understand it -- she was so hot, she must want it! And she was damn well going to get it, every iron-hard inch of it until she screamed for mercy. "I just gotta fuck you!"
Tears of frustration began to well from Donna's dark eyes while her woman's body instinctively matched the rhythm of the rampant penis as it rammed in and out of the clamping lips of her vulva. Eddie had, of course, completely misunderstood her cry of protest. He had no way of knowing that instead of filling her belly so delightfully, she really wanted his lust-swollen cock in her mouth, and the way he had eaten her, he could never be shocked if she wanted to return the favor.
Damn it, he was so long and beautifully hard at this minute. But she knew he was past hearing anything she might say if she tried to make her lewd and obscene desire known. He was ramming his maleness up into her quaking loins so hard he'd never stop until he once more flooded her wetly sucking pussy with his hot, thick young sperm.
Writhing and arching her back and screwing with all her lithe body, her full, firm breasts bouncing, the strawberry nipples tender and elongated, Donna matched the adolescent boy's savage fucking with her own. She thought maybe it was best this way after all, because after he had so ardently eaten her, he must be on the verge of exploding the fullness of his scrotum at any minute, and when she finally achieved her lascivious desire -- took his thick penis between her eager lips and laved it with her tongue -- she wanted it to go on for a long, long time. She wanted to experiment, find every possible way to give oral pleasure to the rod of his manhood and at the same time take from it. Gone were all thoughts of abruptly ending their relationship. That could never happen until her own desires were fully satiated. When that was done, she might be able to talk some sense into both of them, but for now...
"Aaaaaauuuuuugggghhhh... Eeeeeeyyyy aaaaahhh!" Donna cried out, her legs flailing to lock over his plunging buttocks. "I'm cummmmiiiinnnnggggg again! " Inside her seething pussy, she felt his rampant penis bulge, the mushroom-shaped head swelling to amazing size as it buffeted her deepest inner flesh. Eddie was gasping now, his face contorted, and he threw back his head and yelled as once again the great stream of cum poured through his shaft to spurt and penetrate to the very mouth of Donna's womb, filling her writhing loins to the brim and squirting from the flexing Ups of her ravenous cunt.
Again they lay tightly entwined, their bodies slick with sweat and the room heavy with the sweet incense of their musk, drowsing. Cupping a burning hot breast the boy finally whispered, "Hey - why did you tell me to stop? I know you wanted to do it."
"I -- I had something else in mind," Donna murmured.
"What?"
"This isn't the time to tell you," she said with a wry grin. "Save it for a surprise."
"Well, okay," Eddie said dubiously. He shifted, preparing to sleep again and added, "Damn, I'm really pooped out."
"Uh-uh," Donna managed to reply firmly, prodding him. "Now it is getting late, and you surely can't sleep here all night. Go take a shower and go home. I mean it."
"Shit," the teenager grumbled, but obeyed. The water ran and in ten minutes he was back, no longer smelling of raw, wanton sex and fully dressed. He said, "Tomorrow, Donna?"
"I don't know."
"It'll be tough getting together the rest of the week, working. I don't know if I'll be able to keep my hands off you at the store."
"Well, you'd better keep your hands -- and eyes off!" the long-limbed blonde said, rearing up in the sex-scented bed. "All it takes is the wrong kind of look in this town and the tongues start wagging. We'd both be in more trouble than you ever imagined!"
"Yeah, you're right," Eddie admitted. "I'll watch it."
"Phone me tomorrow but not until late afternoon. There are errands I have to do, and some writing. To say nothing about thinking us over. Now, a long goodnight kiss, and go."
Their open mouths came together and tongues dueled and her writhing body tingled wherever his hands caressed her sweaty flesh. Donna Eagles had never been so deliciously fulfilled, so ecstatically happy in her life.
Nor had she ever been so troubled.
Sleep refused to come and finally she showered and put on a robe and went to the kitchen to make hot chocolate. She realized suddenly she'd had nothing to eat all day since a skimpy breakfast and so she grilled a ham-and-cheese sandwich and slowly ate it while sipping the coffee. She became aware of aches in every muscle and they reminded her on him. God, but he was strong! And Eddie certainly needed no instructions in how to satisfy a woman. By the time she locked up the house and went up to her own bedroom, the exhaustion overtook her and she fell asleep almost immediately.
In a comfortable two-story Colonial house on the far side of town, Norma Swenson lay awake far into the night, reliving every minute of what she had witnessed through the window and making and discarding one plan after another.
She was sure of only one thing -- now she had a lever to use on the two people she wanted most. Certainly whatever she came up with would be blackmail, but the kind either or both of them would come to love and need. She shuddered as she thought of what it would feel like to have Eddie Young's rampaging cock ripping into her virgin cunt, but she suspected that with a young girl like herself, he would be more gentle than he had been with the ripe-bodied older Donna. Or maybe, once he got his male organ into her, she'd want it as hard as he could give it to her!
There was no doubt in the teenage blonde's mind of her ultimate success. She had foreseen it even as she drove the little roadster back to town. So confident and preoccupied with her project had she been that she had even turned down a whispered suggestion from pert little Mary Lou Coates, and she'd spent months leading Mary Lou, a vivacious redhead, into lesbianism and Mary Lou had quickly become her greatest conquest and most eager partner. She had soothed the openly adoring girl, explaining that with all the excitement of a new car and her birthday, she had a headache and just couldn't get with it. In the darkened rear room of the pizza parlor, Norma had given in to the extent of a prolonged searching kiss and when Mary Lou had drawn her hand to the vee of her pussy, Norma had worked her fingers inside the flimsy panties and brought the other girl to a panting climax. For her it had been mechanical, but Mary Lou was satisfied.
In the end, just before dropping off to a restless sleep, Norma decided the best move would be a sudden and devastating confrontation. She would make that move in the morning.
CHAPTER FIVE
Her body still deliciously aching, her cunt lips throbbingly tender, Donna Eagles arose early and quickly did a minimum of housework, including changing all the sheets, flushing at the stains which were mute evidence of her lewdly unleashed passion. After a cup of coffee and a doughnut, she tried to get into another confession story for Wascomb but her own shameless behavior with a boy half her age kept intruding. Oh, is she could only write that story!
Smiling in remembered ecstasy, she updated her shopping list, wrote checks for the current bills and at her typewriter tried to catch up on neglected correspondence. There was a letter from a literary agent whom she did not know. He had apparently gotten her name from a spy in Wascomb's office and wondered if she would be interested in writing Gothic romances. A checkout had proved him legitimate and advances of up to thirty-five hundred dollars a book were certainly not to be sneezed at. Also, she would be working in novel-length scripts which would bear her name, rescuing her from the anonymity of the confession stinkers. Donna wrote what she hoped was a lightly enthusiastic reply and asked for some sample books to use as Bibles.
Then there was an angry letter to one of the outfits which had issued her a credit card, in which she declared firmly she had not changed an eight hundred dollar mink stole in a store in San Francisco on 18 May last -- she had in fact never been to San Francisco in her entire life. However, she added caustically, if they wanted to spring for an all expense trip out there, she would gladly present herself at the store in question and get -the matter straightened out. Wasted words, the tall honey-haired girl realized, for she was talking to a computer. It would take months to get straightened out. Donna, wearing a loose blouse and chopped-off jeans, had just finished addressing the envelope when she saw an unfamiliar red roadster, its top down, swing into her drive and inexplicably park where it could not be seen from the road. A girl with straw-colored hair was driving, and it took a moment for Donna to realize it was Norma Swenson.
What could the teenager possibly want? They hardly knew each other, the only contact being at the market. She watched the tall girl hurry toward the house, long, slender legs scissoring in the sun. She wore a minimum of clothes -- a deep bodice blouse that clung to her young, high-set breasts, knotted to expose her flat little belly, and a micro-mini skirt which barely came to the juncture of her curvaceous thighs. Donna was at the door, opening it, when she reached that point. She looked into the cornflower blue eyes that seemed innocent at first until the depths were penetrated, and then they were somehow frightening.
"We have to talk, Donna," was the reply from the luscious young mouth. "I might as well call you Donna right away. We don't know each other at all hardly, but we will. May I come in?"
Completely puzzled, first by the girl's presence and then by her obviously assured attitude, Donna Eagles stepped back and the Nordic teenager swept confidently past her with a saucy twitching of her exquisitely sculpted buttocks. Uninvited, she sat on the sofa.
With the arrogance of complete self-assurance, Norma crossed her long, tapering legs, shook a cigarette from a pack in her clutch purse and lit it, blowing a smoke ring as she fixed Donna with her avid eyes. Damn it, she was beautiful! How sweet it would be to eat her... and then make Donna go down and give her head in turn! Norma knew she had a tremendous advantage. Shock! This would not be seduction as she knew it. This would be rape. Yet she was confident that Donna would be yelling for more and more of the same, and she was old enough, had been around enough, to handle an affair the way it should be done, not like the dumbhead teenyboppers she had brought out so far. And somewhere along the line, she would manage an experiment with Eddie Young, because he was as vulnerable as Donna herself. All she had to do was threaten to expose his relationship to the older woman and Donna Eagles would be deep in some very hot soup.
"Do I smell fresh coffee?" the young girl asked, wetting her sensuous lips with the tip of a fluttering tongue. "I think we can talk easier with coffee."
"I can't dream of what you want, Norma," the other said, both puzzled and beginning to be frightened. "But if coffee will get it out, be my guest."
Feeling like a trapped fugitive in her own house, Donna filled coffee cups and brought them with cream and sugar on a tray. Her hands shook and she wished she had some strong whiskey to lace hers with -- something told her she'd be needing a bracer quickly. Sitting opposite the young lesbian, whose Sapphic bent she was not yet aware of, trying to smile as she spoke, Donna spilled a little of her coffee.
"Now, Norma, do you mind telling me what this is all about?" She had a terrible fear that it concerned Eddie Young. Could he have pedaled his ten-speed bike straight to the malt shop and bragged about his conquest? No! Never! It was unthinkable. "I'm busy, but can give you a few minutes."
Norma moistened her lips until they gleamed and her avaricious eyes were on the slender length of Donna's crossed legs. She said, "Do you want the build-up first or the bottom line?"
Damn, but these kids today don't mince any words, Donna thought. They talked straight out of the TV action shows and the frankly worded books which colorfully studded the news stores with lurid covers of naked or near-naked women.
"The bottom line, I guess," she replied, trembling in fear.
"We're going to go to bed and make love. Girl love." The words were spoken with calm assurance and the eyes were steady as the rock of Gibraltar.
"WHAT!" Donna dropped her cup and coffee stained the hooked rug as she gaped in astonishment at her uninvited visitor. "You must be out of your mind! Are you using drugs?"
"Shit is for idiots," Norma said scornfully. "No, Donna. I've wanted you for a long time... wanted to love you. Not dirty squirming but beautiful love, one woman to another. Better than anything you'd ever find with a man."
"You are mad!" Donna exploded. She reached for the phone. "I'm going to call your parents!"
"Why not call Eddie Young instead?"
The six words completely shattered Donna Eagles. She drew her hand back from the phone and when she was able, asked, "What about Eddie Young?"
"Maybe you'd better have a drink first," the slender girl said.
"There's nothing but gin... and I hate gin."
"I swiped some prime bourbon from the old man's bar," Norma said, "just a sec."
She was gone and back in seconds, clutching a bottle as Donna Eagles buried her face in her hands and began to cry in the depths of despair. Her world was irretrievably shattered. Numbly she accepted a fresh coffee that smelled more of bourbon and managed to take a deep draught without spilling any. She gasped as the hot liquor hit her throat and blinked her tear-reddened eyes. Nothing was said as she quickly finished the cup and felt the warmth and false courage of the liquor spreading through her. She accepted a second cup. Norma put the bottle on the end table at her side as Donna worked furiously to collect and organize herself. The terrible initial shock was becoming blurred by alcohol and time and finally she said, "I guess I'm as ready as I ever will be."
"I saw you and Eddie yesterday. WOW!"
"Oh, Jesus!" Donna wanted to be sick, but knew she would have to listen. She was in a bad position, but maybe there was something to be done yet with this perverted little sexual blackmailer. She said, "Wait -- I've got to go for a minute."
She went into the bathroom and ran water into the bowl, but on the way pressed a switch which activated a big Roberts reel-to-reel tape recorder which for esthetic reasons Donna had concealed in the bottom of an authentic imitation replica of a Governor Winthrop secretary. If the president could bug the Oval Office, then she could certainly bug her own living, room, although not for any nefarious purpose. The tape machine was in fact a writing tool and duly claimed as such on her income tax returns. Donna had found that she not only talked to herself while musing over a story, she answered herself, playing the parts of all the characters. It gave her sometimes perfect dialog for her writing, making it necessary to add only description and transition graphs to her written scripts. Now, for what it might ever be worth, she would have an audio record of her coming humiliation. She returned, told Norma she felt better and to go ahead with her fantasy. Her cup was empty and she poured straight whisky into it and sipped, hardly noticing its strength.
Norma was no longer so arrogant. But she was painfully explicit as to what she had seen, causing Donna to drink more and more. And then Norma explained how she had become the way she was, and suddenly was a little lost child in Donna's half-inebriated mind. She found herself sympathetic, and wryly thought that this conversation on tape was going to lead to a novelette that would curl Wascomb's toes!
"Poor kid," she mumbled, drinking. "Sorry for you... that you have to come here and threaten me. Y'know, I've been hellishly lonely too, for years."
"You mean you -- you'd have made it with me if you knew?" Norma was incredulous. If the answer was yes, then she was the prize fool of the year, because now, no matter how good them might be together, deep inside Donna Eagles would hate her, and she wanted to be loved. "Oh, Donna honey."
Impulsively, all brash arrogance gone, the young girl crossed the room and knelt beside Donna, clutching her, on the verge of tears. She needed a drink herself. She took the cup from Donna, drained it and refilled it. Donna was making no move to push her away, even seemed to welcome their physical closeness. So warm and nice, having things move in this direction.
"I must tell you about it... all of it... maybe you'll unnerstan' about Eddie," Donna said thickly.
"Yes," Norma said softly. She hesitated, and then brought her mouth, warm and wet and tender, to Donna's, and there was no rejection. Donna returned the kiss and made no protest as Norma's hand deftly slid inside her blouse to enclose the ripe fullness of a breast and squeeze as she rolled the pink berry of nipple between her skilled fingers. "Tell you the whole story. You better have plenty time."
"All we'll ever need, darling," Norma murmured between kisses. The voluptuous older woman was now responding with unbelievable warmth, even stroking her bare leg. "Why don't we go into your bedroom and really relax."
"Good idea," Donna mumbled. She found her legs slightly unsteady but after a moment regained her equilibrium. Hand in hand they went up the ancient stairway to the room that held Donna's big bed. She had the presence of mind to hit another switch that turned on a microphone in this room also. She stood unresisting and on the verge of response as Norma held her close, covering her with little teasing kisses. Excitement surged deep in her belly as the young girl slowly peeled her blouse off and bent to kiss her full breasts, suck and nibble the nipples to full hardness and erection. And it seemed only natural that Norma should slowly kneel and draw Donna's faded shorts down the smooth columns of her legs, leaving her stark naked. For a moment, Norma's arms clasped her around the thighs and Donna felt the hot breath on her arousing pussy and the delicious flickering of a long, pointed tongue seeking out the curl-fringed slit of her cunt. It wasn't Eddie, but it was nice!
Norma guided her to the bed and quickly removed her own scanty attire. Donna looked up at the firm thrusting young breasts, the tiny waist, gracefully curving hips and pubic triangle that had hair almost the color of her own. Then down the tanned taper of thigh to dimpled young knees and gracefully swelling calves, and she realized, Norma was beautiful!
They lay together, Norma's fingers feather-light yet burning hot as they traced every contour of her body. Donna made little sensuous, hungry sounds as the searching fingers found erogenous zones she had never dreamed of. Her own hands began to stroke and seek as she slowly told the story of her frustrated, barren life, sparing herself nothing, including even the vulgar, shameful episode with Wascomb. She wanted another drink but didn't want to leave the warmth of the young girl's warm, soft flesh enough to get it and anyway, she'd probably had far too much already.
"Christ, what a bum trip!" Norma muttered of Wascomb. "I'd like to cut his balls off and feed them to my cat!"
"My fault as much as his," Donna murmured. "I'm old enough to say NO! He just happened to come along at the right time and, well, he sort of sprung me out of a trap, I guess."
"Was it really good, Eddie fucking you?"
"You saw it," Donna replied, trying to smile. "What do you think?"
"I might want to borrow him for an experiment," Norma replied, "I'm a virgin."
"I'll be damned!"
"Now I'm going to make love to you, darling."
"Yes, oh, yes!" the now passionate older blonde gasped as hands and lips began to rove over her aroused body. "Eat me, oh, please eat me!"
With infinitely tantalizing slowness, Norma, her straw-colored hair hanging loose and tickling like a million feathers over Donna's now willing flesh, began to kiss every inch of the older woman's body. Her darting tongue was like liquid fire raining over the firmly upthrust globes of Donna's breasts and her pursed lips soft as velvet on the erect and throbbingly tender nipples. At the same time, the young girl's fingers were sliding and dancing over Donna's tensely vibrating body like those of a piano virtuoso. Her ardent mouth pursued its course over the swells and dips of the succulent flesh. Donna found her legs parting in eager invitation to the flaxen-haired youngster to begin the feast they both desired and Donna began to moan in mounting anticipation.
"Roll over, darling," Norma murmured, urging Donna with her hands. Donna lazily complied, lifting up her buttocks as Norma slid two pillows under her hips. Norma began to kiss and lick up and down her spine, and her hands caressed the satin smooth roundness of Donna's buttocks as her salivating mouth moved lower and lower. At last she said, "Bet Eddie didn't do this!"
Donna squirmed and murmured, "Oooohhhh!" as she felt the wet probing of the teenager's invading tongue sliding deep into the crease of her ass-cheeks. Suddenly the pointed little tip was swirling slowly around and around the tight little ring of her anus, driving Donna almost wild. Swept by a totally new sensation, she arched her back, rising higher, and spreading her knees wide. Then Norma's thumbs were drawing her jelly-shaking buttocks apart and the teasing tongue thrust forward, like a snake working by the rubbery barrier of Donna's anal ring and slithering far up into her rectum!
Donna had never felt anything so intensely arousing in her life. Sinuously she began to fuck her tingling ass up to the delving tongue, whimpering her pleasure. The vile obscenity of the act was lost on her, and she was sure she would cum any minute.
"Oooohhh! Don't stop!" Donna pleaded as she felt the hot wet tongue withdraw. "It feels so good!"
"Just the beginning, darling," Norma murmured with a smile of lewd triumph. Nibbling and kissing and whirling her tongue faster and faster, Norma turned the totally aroused older woman over and laved every inch of her wildly undulating body. As her skilled mouth moved higher and higher between Donna's wide-splayed legs, Donna could suddenly stand the suspense no longer. With a groan she grabbed fistfuls of Norma's sun-bleached hair and pulled the wet, sucking mouth directly to her juice-filled cunt. Burrowing her beautiful face into the soft dampness, Norma began to lick with the flat of her tongue and deep in her throat went, "Ummmmm... " Raising her pelvis, Donna strained to expose every possible bit of her pussy to the young girl, gazing with delight at the beautiful face framed between her quivering thighs. Norma's agile tongue seemed to be everywhere at once, whipping her clitoris to burning, then slithering like a hungry eel into the very depths of her vaginal passage while the sensuous lips sucked with abandon at the wide-stretched mouth of her cunt. Completely losing control of her body, Donna fucked violently up to the bobbing face and felt the now familiar seething deep in her belly.
Liquid slurping sounds filled the room as Norma Swenson, making eager little noises, sucked and licked at the gushing flow of cunt juice. Her tongue missed none, slithering into the wide-open crack of Donna's ass-cheeks, to her thighs and tenderly along the inner surfaces of the flexing pussy lips. Donna was awash in a sea of wanton ecstasy, groaning and grinding her hips from side to side as Norma again brought her skilled lips down on the curl-fringed flanges of Donna's vulva. Suddenly Donna pushed her back, raising on an elbow.
"I want to do it to you!" she cried.
"Oh, darling," Norma murmured, licking her cum wet lips. She stretched out in Donna's place. "Yes... go down on me."
More wildly excited than ever before, Donna bent over the sleek younger girl, kissing her tenderly, tasting her orgasmic juice on Norma's eagerly parted lips. She tried to do just what Donna had done to her and after a few minutes it seemed natural to be kissing and sucking the pointed, proud young breasts and urgently fingering the moistly soft slit of Norma's pussy. Norma was the one squirming and moaning now, and the half-drunk Donna took pleasure in being able to arouse such response. She trailed her hand up and down the sleek young legs and inner thighs and suddenly the teasing was too much for her.
"I can't do this anymore," Donna gasped. "I can't wait!"
Nimbly she slid between Norma's invitingly spread legs, her entire vision filled with the beautiful tight little virginal cunt with its soft framing of golden fleece and the tiny nub of her clitoris peeking from the top of the furrow. Donna bestowed only quick token kisses on the warm thigh flesh that was sweetly salty and then, as Norma reached to spread the flowering petals of her pussy, Donna ravenously brought her mouth down on it, noisily licking and sucking and slashing with her tongue. The heady woman aroma filled her flaring nostrils and she caught Norma's flailing legs, drawing them tight to her own cheeks as she strove to get her inexperienced tongue deep up into the welcoming depths of the teenage beauty's cunt.
"Hey! Take it slow!" Norma chuckled as she raked her long fingers through the disarrayed mass of Donna's pale-hued mane. "I'm not going anywhere. Don't wallow like a starving Indian. Kiss and lick and tease, darling. Do me like I did you."
"Ummmmm... " Donna mumbled without losing oral contact for an instant. But she heeded the words and her head began to rise and fall in rhythm with the sinuous undulations of the slender young girl, and it was better. She could feel each heartbeat, each tremor through the tip of her probing tongue. Donna took her time, trying to learn every way to eat this delicious young pussy that had opened a whole new world for her.
"Put your finger in my asshole," Norma instructed.
In other circumstances Donna Eagles would have been terribly shocked by such a situation -- finding herself kneeling subserviently between another girl's tightly clamping legs, licking and sucking her cunt, and now pressing hard with the outstretched middle finger of her right hand at the tight sphincter ring until it suddenly relaxed and allowed access to the steaming warmth of Norma's rectum. It was tight, and she had to slowly twirl it around until her finger gradually sank in, knuckle by knuckle, to the hilt. She began to fuck deep into the two orifices with finger and tongue, matching her strokes to Norma's coital rhythms. When Norma began to pant uncontrollably and thrash around, without being told Donna drew her deeply rooting tongue from the sweet honey depths of the fragrant teenage pussy. Her pursed lips captured the tiny penis-like clitoris and she sucked it between them, as the tip of her tongue swirled and lashed it.
Suddenly Norma was bucking violently up to Donna's burrowing face and she gasped, "Oooohhh, darling! Now! I'm cummmiiinnnggg! Oooohhhh! EAT MEEEEEE!"
At that instant Donna's mouth was inundated with the rich, muskily fragrant outpouring of orgasmic juices. Gulping and sucking to get every delicious drop, she continued to finger-fuck Norma's wildly gyrating anus. It went on and on until total exhaustion claimed them both. Donna lay panting, her face pillowed on the soft curls of the younger girl's pubis. She was both stunned and delighted with herself and silently she blessed Norma for coming to her rescue from an unexpected direction.
For in her heart she knew that having sex with young boys was wrong. She didn't intend to give up Eddie -- yet -- but the day would have to come, and after him, who? In time she might find a man of acceptable age who could elicit the same responses from her which Eddie did... but until then, and maybe after, she could always find sexual satisfaction if not love with beautiful girls.
Norma started to free herself from the embrace but Donna held her tight, murmuring, "I want more."
"That's nice," Norma said, guiding Donna's salivating mouth between her thighs and to the lubricious lips of her pussy once more. "Ummmmm... that's very nice!"
CHAPTER SIX
Donna Eagles was drowsing in the mid-afternoon when Norma eased out of her embrace, dressed and lightly kissed her goodbye. Donna held her close and said, "When do I see you again?"
"Almost any night you want. Nobody'll be suspicious if you call my house... you'll be just another girl voice."
"Okay," Donna said.
For half an hour she lay in the bed, remembering. There was some feeling of shame, but not much. After all, she'd been forced. Could she be blamed for liking what had happened? She remembered her errands and quickly showered, brushing out her hair and dressed for town. The liquor had worn off and suddenly she was hungry. She swung the car into a drive-in eatery, ordered a cheeseburger and malt and only too late did she realize Eddie Young was riding up on his bike. At the moment she didn't want to see Eddie, but he leaned the bike against the building and came to the car.
"Okay for tonight, about eight?" he asked hopefully, Donna Eagles' first reaction was to say no.
but she hesitated. Not out of consideration for the boy's feelings, because she had made no promises, but because of her own mixed emotions. She was afraid she might get carried away with delayed remorse and confess the lesbian encounter. Yet there was another question which only Eddie could answer. She had, in retrospect, thoroughly enjoyed making love with Norma Swenson. Had she enjoyed it too much? She thought of the years she'd gone without a man and wondered if subconsciously she had been wanting a woman all along. Unforeseen circumstances had landed her in her present condition of non-chastity and, one might say, working both sides of the street. If any man could arouse her, it would be Eddie. So, to find more of the truth about herself, she would have to agree.
"All right," she whispered, seeing the adoring look in his eyes. "Wait until it's dark, and call first, in case I have company."
* * *
At about the same time, a tableau which would have astounded the entire town was unfolding in a shabby house trailer parked in a remote pine grove several miles to the north.
Its door securely bolted and shades drawn, the interior was bright with photoflood lights. A self-drive motion picture camera with timed single-frame exposure capability stood on a tripod, its staring eye aimed at a bed.
On the bed, stark naked, reclined the voluptuous dark-haired teenager, Sylvia Keene, her sensuous mouth set in an angry pout as her fingers idly twirled the curling hair of her pubis. Now she wore a flowing auburn-hued wig and garish. Makeup to compensate for the light factor. No one who had ever seen the demure, shy, repressed and restrictively garbed niece of the Rev. Leo Harrope in town would ever have recognized her as the same person. She looked like the personification of all house girls, although she was only fifteen. Working whores twice her age hadn't experienced as much as this unfortunate girl, who had lost all hope.
Equally eye-boggling was the scene in a second bedroom. Seated before a lighted mirror, the itinerant minister, also naked, was applying makeup. He had already donned a dark-hued hairpiece over his own scraggly thatch and now was affixing a Pancho Villa mustache to his thin upper lip. Satisfied with that, he stood and surveyed himself in the mirror. His body, for a middle-aged man, was not bad in appearance, more lean than skinny. He could be a very hard man, having been a product of the hills of Tennessee. He stroked his long cock to semi-hardness and knew it would do its job.
In the brightly lighted room, he turned the camera on. It held four hundred feet of color film, and was set to expose one frame per second. It would function for hours. The reclining girl paid no attention, other than to curl her lip in disgust at the man and what he was going to put her through again.
"We work good together, we kin get two, three new books outa this session, Sylvie," he said in his mountain twang. "Yew gotta appear to be enjoyin' more than yew did las' time."
"So now I'm an actress," the girl said with resignation, squeezing the dark nipples of her breasts to harden them. "Let's get it done."
There was a soft chuckle. The Reverend Leo Harrope, self-anointed minister, enjoyed nothing more than putting the beautiful little girl down, and although he had no more religion than a boar hog, he blessed the day the Lord had delivered this one into his hands.
It had been in the early hours of morning, somewhere around two o'clock, in a depressing part of West Virginia, not far from some hick-town. He had been laboriously pushing his old pickup truck, with house trailer behind, with no particular destination in mind.
The girl had appeared in the headlights, stumbling down the mountain road, her clothes tattered, her hair mussed, scratched and bleeding. He stopped and helped her into the truck where she blurted out her story in near-hysteria which was eased only when he administered a medicinal dose of white lightning.
Essentially, she had been on a bus, headed for New York from Arkansas. The bus had missed a connection in the town ahead, leaving her stranded for a whole day. After putting her cardboard suitcase in a locker, she had wandered around the little town and discovered there was a dance. One of the local boys said he'd take her, so she went with him in his pickup truck. There had been a lot of drinking. Having no money to speak of and no place to stay, she had agreed to spend the night with him on the farm where he worked. She knew what that meant, but she was desperate. But on the way, the boy had decided he couldn't wait. He had attacked her in his truck, pressing her down on the seat, ripping her panties off and ramming himself between her legs. She panicked. Her hand found a wrench on the floorboards and she hit him with it. She hit him until he was dead. And that was it. She was really on the run.
If nothing else, the Rev. Leo Harrope had proved decisive and efficient. He drove to the scene of the crime, which was only a few yards from a deep gorge. He wedged the body behind the wheel of the truck, started the motor, put it in low and let it go. He was driving away unconcernedly minutes later, the terrified girl sitting close to him.
Sylvia Keene had cringed when she heard the price she must pay for this doubtful salvation.
The Rev did some preaching - anybody who could thump a Bible could pick up eatin' money from the ignorant. But he knew a man in Atlanta who paid well for dirty pictures. He had the cameras, but until now he hadn't been able to find a sweet-faced young girl like the kind they wanted. Well, now he'd found her.
For Sylvia, it had been horrible at first. Even though she hadn't been a virgin, getting fucked with a camera staring at her made her sick. She had been taught to suck cock and bend over to let him shove his cock up her tender little anus. Now it was a mechanical thing she simply endured. She dreamed of escape, but over her hung the threat that the Rev would call the cops. In her innocent youth, she never realized that by disposing of the body and concealing the crime, of which she most likely would have been acquitted, he shared her guilt.
Wearily, as the camera clicked every second, she assumed the demanded poses, with the mechanical, lewd smile on her face as she gazed into the lens. She hardly grunted as his long cock pressed hard against her anus, breached the rubbery barrier and sank to its full depth up into her rectum. She rotated her smooth buttocks and matched his slow fucking motions. This went on until the Rev was satisfied there were enough exposures on the film for that type of action.
He pulled his still-rigid penis from her distended anus and put her through every conceivable position for straight fucking. Sylvia was a piece of obedient meat, feeling nothing. Actually, having a cock in her did feel good to her body, but not this cock. She was young and pretty, so why couldn't she have someone like that handsome bag boy at the market. She knew she'd love it with him. If she had a boy like him, she'd do anything. Cook and scrub floors and clean house and mend his clothes and, thanks to the bastard Rev. she'd be the best fuckin' he'd ever find anywhere, and she'd love it.
An hour and a half passed, and the Rev was still at it. Sylvia often wondered how he could stay hard so long, doing it to her ever' which way.
"Y'awll aughta git work in a stud house," she told him once when she was not as depressed as usual. "How come y'awll nevah fuck me so I feel somethin'?"
"Yew don' wanta get knocked up, do yew?"
"There's rubbers, an' pills, an' things, Rev."
"Don' trust 'em."
Now came the part she hated. The cocksucking. Sylvia knelt subserviently on the linoleum floor and, always thinking of where the camera was, began her odious task. Then it was on the bed, with her kneeling over his loins. Then on her back with him fucking deep into her mouth. Every conceivable way, until her jaws ached and her lips were swollen.
"Guess that's enough," the Rev. Leo Harrope said finally. "Finish me off."
Almost gratefully, Sylvia furiously drove her sucking mouth up and down the still-hard penis, tonguing and nibbling and drawing on the thick tube of male flesh until within two minutes the middle-aged man grabbed her head and held it tight while he fucked deep into her mouth. She gagged and choked, and as soon as he released her ran for the tiny bathroom and spit in the bowl, then gargled with a strong mouthwash. It was the only way she could insult her captor and exploiter, refusing to swallow his cum. Once he had tried to force her and she had thrown up all over him, and that was the last of that.
While he removed the film from the camera, the girl shed her wig and scrubbed off the horrible makeup. Fifteen minutes later she reappeared, in her garb and role of traveling minister's ward. She began to automatically cook dinner for them while the Rev washed and returned to his usual semi-clerical garb. They sat down to a typical Southern dinner of pork chops, greasy fried potatoes, greens and com bread.
"We're goin' to make us some calls on the good people, the sinners out thar tonight, Sylvie," the Rev announced, gnawing on a bone.
" 'Evenin', Brother, may the good Lord bless your house."
"Oh, shit!" Sylvia exploded. "Why do we have to keep up this fucking masquerade? You're making plenty off the pictures now, and I'll do fuck-suck movies, I've told you that. I could live like a human being. Honest, I wouldn't mind, not any more."
When anger and tension took over, both slipped away from their basic country language into the universally bland phrasing and accents they had picked up in their travels and from the omnipresent television. However, the Rev believed suckers were more likely to be generous to people they could look down on, like uneducated hillbillies, when the basket was passed. Many would donate just so they would go away. His bank account testified to the soundness of his theory.
"Best we do some evangelizin' from time to time," he said mildly. "You say you're a preacher, you gotta ack like one."
"Christ, I'd like to wear a miniskirt and boots, just once!"
* * *
Darkness came early that night as threatening thunderheads built and bloated their black bellies over the mass of Mount Greylock. The Berkshires steamed in humid heat. On the expanses of nearby Lake George, a sudden wind kicked up a chop. Wise to the violence of New England weather, the natives set about putting things in order, taking in lawn furniture and hanging potted plants and securing their windows. The weather advisory had predicted a good possibility of as severe a lightning storm as had been known for years. The tension in the air could have been cut with a dull knife. People suddenly began to snap at each other. Friendly dogs fought in the streets as the barometer dropped sharply.
And in her farmhouse, Donna Eagles picked at a TV dinner with no enthusiasm. She felt the oncoming storm from the mountains, and also, more acutely, the storm within her newly awakened self.
She hoped that Eddie wouldn't come, that he'd call it off because of the impending weather. Yet at the same time she knew she needed him desperately, to straighten out her confused mind. Nervously brushing back her long pale hair with shaking fingers, Donna was sure that one more meeting with Eddie would show her the truth -- whether she was a normal woman or a lesbian.
Try as she would, she could not feel revolted by her interlude with Norma. It disturbed her not nearly as much as her blatant seduction of the teenaged boy.
And what of him? He was a smart kid, intuitive. Would he just look at her and know something had happened?
It occurred to Donna that perhaps she should have a drink from the remains of Norma's bottle. It might settle her nerves, and if Eddie smelled liquor on her breath, he might figure anything out of the ordinary could be put down to her having had a few drinks.
She did it, and felt better after the first sip. She promised herself she would not get drunk. In the mountains, there were strobe-like flashes of lightning, followed by the distant rumble of thunder. Pouring a second drink, Donna wondered just what she should wear. There was so much of her wardrobe she hadn't even looked at in a couple of years. Finally she decided something concealing yet revealing would be best. Something which would cloak her lush woman's body if things went badly, and yet which could easily be shed if she yielded to the virile youth's desire. She settled on a garment which she had bought on impulse and never worn. It was Oriental in style but of a smoky gray rather than the usual red or black, with mandarin collar. Although ankle length, it was slit up the sides to the hip, so her long, curvaceous legs flashed golden with each stride. It was feather light, of some synthetic fabric which looked and felt like silk. The buttons were faked -- one long pull on a concealed zipper and it would fall away, if she wanted that.
Donna drew fragile mesh bikini panties up over the taut rounds of her buttocks and posed before her mirror, pleased with her reflection. There was not the slightest trace of sagging in her pear-shaped breasts with their prominent nipples. They were ripe, ready for eating. Her waist was miniscule, which only emphasized the mature womanly swell of her hips. Tiny golden curls were visible through the lacy openwork of the panties, which fit the cleft of her soft-lipped cunt like a second skin. She cupped the high set mounds of her breasts, caressing them until the coral-hued nipples centered in the slightly darker areola erected, and she felt again the arousal that kissing and sucking and licking could bring. Trembling, she put on the exotic dress and saw it fit her tight as a snake's skin. She found high-heeled pumps which hadn't been worn in a long time. She coated her mouth with silvery lipstick and grinned wickedly at her reflection.
"You're sure asking for it, girl," she whispered. She practiced walking in the unfamiliar heels a few minutes, and returned to her living room. She switched on the porch light, turned down the room lights and. hearing another crash of thunder, checked the hurricane lamps. They had plenty of kerosene. Then she noticed a near-antique gas lamp with flowered eggshell-thin shade. It had fuel, and just to see if it would work she pumped up the pressure and touched a match to the twin mantles. It hissed and filled the room with a romantic golden glow. On impulse, she took it into the lower bedroom and placed it on the bureau. Then, her stage settings complete, she returned to the Colonial living room, fixed another drink and sat to wait for her illicitly young lever, muttering to herself, "If, after I've gone to all this trouble, you don't show up, I'll wring your beautiful neck!"
Eddie showed up. He slipped through the door without knocking and dropped the latch into its slot. He was about to turn the key in the Yale lock when he caught sight of her curled on the sofa, her breasts proud and sharply outlined against the clinging cloth, her legs bared by the slits in the side.
"Jeeezzzuss Keeerrist!" he gasped. He had never seen a woman so beautiful in his life... and she was his! God, those legs and tits and that sensual angel face. She couldn't have a damn thing on under that crazy outfit. He wanted to cross the room and push her back on the sofa and fuck her to death! "Donna "For you -- you like it?" she said, teasing him. She rose and walked into his open arms and took his mouth on hers, surrendering to his wildly plunging tongue. He was holding her so hard it hurt and his strong young hands were digging deep into the sensitive flesh of her ass-cheeks, pulling her mound hard against his rising young cock. She broke away and gasped, "Don't break bones!"
"Damn, but you're even more beautiful with clothes on!" the aroused teenaged boy whispered in awe. "I almost wasn't going to come, with the storm and all, but oh, WOW!"
"Darling," Donna murmured, embracing him. "Don't mess me up. This fancy thing is fragile. I mean the gown, not me."
Well, you're definitely a switch hitter, she told herself. A few hours ago you were eating a girl like crazy, and now you 're so hot for this boy you can't stand it!
"Nooooo... " Donna went on as she felt his hands rove to her breasts and squeeze through the thin cloth. "Not so quick. One thing you'll have to learn with girls is to take your time and let them take theirs. You're so excited now you wouldn't even know it was happening, and neither would I." She winked lewdly. "Perhaps I shouldn't do this, but I'm offering you a drink. Contributing to the delinquency of a minor, etc. You sit across the room and sip it and look but don't touch. When you've banked that furnace, we'll go on to other things. Okay?"
"No way I can argue with you, Donna," he said, and sat.
Perched nervously on the edge of a wing chair, the boy tried to organize his head. Christ, how long was she going to tease him? He was hard as a railroad spike already. If he had to look at her much longer, see the way her long legs flashed like fragments of a kaleidoscope in that damn dress, he was going to shoot his wad in his pants! He found his voice and called out, "If it's whisky, just a little water -- that's the way we have it at home."
Slug him good and cool him down, Donna thought as she poured. She saw his eyes blink at the first sip, but he didn't wince. The tension became as electric as the approaching storm. He was watching her, not wanting to finish his drink before she had downed hers. Donna watched with equal intensity, until she saw the strong liquor take hold and the handsome teenager relaxed and began to talk about trivial things and could keep his eyes off her exposed legs and the swell of her breasts. She could feel the hot viscous fluid oozing from her cunt lips already, but silently in her mind she said, "Cunt, this ain't your night Donna was not going to allow his reaming young penis into her pussy. She was determined to sample what she'd been deprived of before. She wanted to take him into her mouth instead; draw his long, rigid staff between her virginal lips and experience something new, just as she supposed Eddie would be doing. The drinks had made her giddy enough that she was hardly able to control her eagerness to begin. She put her glass down and rose, saying, "All right, you beautiful thing, let's go."
"Christ, yes!" he retorted, jumping to his feet.
"But one thing. " the sensually aroused blonde said sharply. "As they say in the Victorian novels, 'You've had your way with me', and tonight it's my turn. Understand?"
"No," Eddie said blankly.
"We do it the way I want tonight." Donna saw his face fall and hastened to add, "Oh, it was beautiful, what we did, all of it. I just want to try something new."
"Hope you don't own a razor strop or like that," the boy said, grinning as he shrugged. What the hell could she have in mind? Something new, and this wild outfit she'd put on just for him... he couldn't fathom it.
"With the storm coming, we could lose the electricity, so I think I'll light a coal-lamp here," Donna said, and did so.
In the bedroom, Eddie looked around, liking the soft light from the gas mantles before he moved to take Donna into his arms and fumble for the buttons of her dress, but she drew back and said, "Wait, this thing is tricky. Let me do The zipper purred and the exotic garment fell away with a shrug of her smooth shoulders, piling around her feet, leaving her more than naked with only the transparent mesh panties. Eddie gasped at the sight of her tall, sleek body, her firm, tip-tilted breasts, the golden down of her pubic hair, the incredible length of her shapely legs. With a groan he again advanced on her, reaching for the waistband of the panties, but she slapped his hand away sharply.
"No! They stay on!"
"Huh! What the hell?" he stammered.
"They stay on for now," Donna insisted. "I don't think you'll mind. Now, let me undress you."
As if she had done it thousands of times before, she slowly undressed the trembling youth, discarding his shirt, unbuckling his belt and drawing down the zipper of his flare slacks. As they dropped to his ankles and he kicked them away she bent to slide his jockey shorts down. His rigid penis sprang free, inches from her face, and she could see the tiny drops of lubricating fluid already oozing from the slit in the spongy mushroom-shaped head. God, it was beautiful! On her knees, she hugged him to her, rubbing her face against the hard flat muscles of his belly, feeling his cock brushing her, so rigid and hot. The male scent of him was overwhelming. She cupped his sperm-laden balls and felt the life surging within the wrinkled sac. There was a tremendous temptation to take him into her mouth while she knelt like this, but she wanted to prolong the experience, so, trembling with anticipation which matched his own, she rose and urged him down onto the bed. _ "Eddie, lie still as you can. Close your eyes and see if you like what I do," she whispered, her tongue flickering over her gleaming, sensuous lips. The teenaged boy, not quite sure of what would happen next, complied. He trembled like a rabbit hiding from a pursuing hound as he felt her delicate fingers enclose the long, slender rigidity of his penis and draw the foreskin down over the bulbous head as her other fingers toyed slowly, teasingly with his balls, the nails lightly scraping at the ultra-sensitive perineum just below the scrotal sac. He groaned and willed himself to be like a statue. "Beautiful, so beautiful," Donna Eagles whispered. "Now let me do everything."
And she set out to do something she had never done before... wouldn't have dreamed of doing.
She would surrender her mouth's virginity and become a cocksucker!
Like an astronaut setting out to explore uncharted worlds, she knelt on the bed, crosswise to his quaking young body, at his hips, his rigidly aroused penis in her slowly stroking right hand. She bent over his face, kissing lightly. Eyes and lips and ears and even raising his head to nibble at the back of his neck, before tantalizingly licking and kissing her way down to the little nipples of his muscular chest. Her breasts flattened against his body and .he was burning hot. His breath came unevenly as he strove to keep his eyes shut and enjoy the sensory delights.
Donna laved his torso and belly with her searching tongue and buried her face in his sparse mat of pubic hair before continuing her oral exploration lower. Eddie Young groaned. He was going to flip if something didn't happen soon. Was she actually going to blow him? Jesus! Or maybe this was all just a buildup for when she would straddle him and ride his cock - he'd heard girls like to do that.
Donna was becoming aware of a hitherto unknown deep well of sensuality within herself. She had a new toy, the most beautiful toy in the world, and was learning to play with it. With her free hand she nudged Eddie's slender but muscular legs apart and bent low, her mass of taffy hair obscuring his loins. She put her lips to the inside of his right thigh, sucking lightly at the male scented flesh while her tongue described teasing little circles. His balls were pressing against her cheek. She turned her head and opened her mouth wide, pursing her full, avid lips carefully over her teeth and sucked one into the hot, wet cavern of her mouth. Her tongue rolled it around as she sucked very lightly, knowing how sensitive a man was there. Eddie groaned, and now his eyes opened. It was incredible, seeing her beautiful face buried between his legs, and she mouthed his testicles.
Slowly Donna let his balls escape her mouth. Shifting slightly, she held his penis rigidly upright between thumb and forefinger, the fleshy foreskin drawn tightly down over the burgeoning staff. The blood-engorged knob-like head was huge and throbbing. She tossed her hair back from her eyes and lowered her parted lips to it, and blew lightly on the velvet-soft surface. She felt Eddie shudder and knew his eyes were upon her now.
The tiny pink tip of her tongue flicked out and explored the little pearl of fluid that had built up at the slit in the head of the boy's throbbing cock. It had a salty, heady taste, and she swiped her tongue around the yielding cock-head, licking up the viscous juice which had oozed over it. Her open lips tenderly kissed the purplish-red tip for an instant and then she drew away, her tongue flicking like a snake's tongue all the way down the underside of the thickly veined staff to his balls again. She began to kiss and lick and then nibble at it like it was an ear of sweet com, feeling the handsome young teenager begin to stir restlessly and hearing his heavy panting and suppressed groans.
But the erotically aroused older woman was teasing herself as much as she was Eddie, and now she could stand it no longer. She moved to kneel between his wide-splayed legs and bent over his loins. God, but his cock looked huge! How could she ever get it into her mouth, all of it? Well, she would just have to learn.
Pursing her lips into a soft, wet oval over her fine white teeth, Donna Eagles lowered her head,' tongue lashing, licking the bulbous tip of the rigidly erect penis like it was an ice-cream cone. She stretched her jaws wide and then her lewdly seeking mouth enclosed its prey while her tongue lazily swirled around the smooth heat of it. Looking downward, it seemed like she was trying to swallow a tree. Already her mouth felt stuffed. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked tentatively. She realized she'd have to breathe through her nose. Two deep breaths and she worked her head from side to side, feeling the rigid spear of flesh sink deeper into her seductive lips. It was so exciting... kneeling like a slave, her lovely mouth distorted by the boy's penis. She had to have all of it.
"Ummmmm... " she moaned deep in her throat, and went down until the rubbery head came in contact with her soft palate. She gagged but did not surrender an inch. She remained immobile for a minute, adjusting to the strange intruder, and felt her mouth and jaw and throat muscles beginning to relax. Slowly she began to slide her lust-swollen lips up and down the slippery staff. Her mouth was filling with saliva and she tried to swallow it. She found the passage of the thickly veined penis past her tender lips tremendously exciting and with each bobbing of her head, she was getting more and more of him into her mouth, and now he was unable to remain still. With each downstroke, he was thrusting up just a little, so that, a fraction of an inch at a time, the hot slender spike of his manhood was disappearing between her eager lips. But there were still inches to go, and her mouth was stretched to its full capacity - or so Donna thought. She was doing it very slowly, using her tongue to lave the mushroom-shaped head every time she came up, gasping for air. Maybe, as the old saying went, she had bitten off more than she could chew. But she was determined to finish what she had started. She was sure Eddie wouldn't have to be all the way in her mouth to cum, but she wanted the experience of having all of him. She began to work her head up and down faster, to suck a little harder, and prayed he wouldn't ejaculate before she attained her own goal.
He solved her problem then, crying out his need and desire.
As Donna's head dipped and her cheeks hollowed with her sucking, the boy's hand caught her massed hair and held her tight while with one violent stroke he fucked up into her sorely stretched mouth.
Donna jumped like a bucking bronco as the long, rigid penis rammed past her tonsils and deep into her throat. She gagged and choked and tried to break free of the teenager's steel-strong grip but he didn't relent. Her nose was buried in the sparse forest of his pubic hair. His balls were flattened against her chin. He ground his hips and the length of his rampant staff moved violently in the hot, saliva-filled cavern of her mouth. It seemed an eternity before she could breathe through her nostrils and choke down the fluids her stomach wanted to disgorge.
And then suddenly it was all right. Her throat muscles relaxed and there was ho more choking or gagging. Donna's cheeks went hollow, the rigid outline of the boy's cock showing clearly, as she began to suck again. He released her head and she drew up until only the rubbery bulge of his cock-head remained in between her saliva-wet lips, and then swallowed him to the hilt without any difficulty. Each stroke was better than the one before and Donna found herself wishing he was longer and thicker, long enough to plunge all the way to her quaking belly. On the upstroke, she let the blood-engorged head almost escape her eager lips while she licked its smoothness with her flailing tongue and then went all the way down again, her head working from side to side, her teeth nibbling, worrying his penis like a dog gnawing on a bone. She could hear Eddie groaning with pleasure now, and wondered if his was as great as hers. Her full breasts jumped and jiggled with her frenzied movements, the nipples teasingly rasped against his thighs. She could see her ravenous lips distorted on the outstroke, drawn outward like the lips of a feeding fish. Her drooling saliva had coated his pubic hair. Faster and faster her head bobbed, her beautiful face alternately ballooning and hollowing as she went at his loins like a starving tigress.
"Oh, God!" Eddie cried out. "I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum in your mouth! Oh, suck it... suck me, Donna!"
His impassioned words stirred the wildly gulping older woman. Deep in her own loins, she felt a familiar tingling that built and built as his thick cock rammed deep into her bruised lips and swelled so it strained her avid mouth. Her blonde hair flailed the air with the fury of her oral assault and then it happened. The first spurt of burning hot, salty cum exploded into her mouth just as she was wildly diving on his jerking loins, and the second jet went deep into her throat, almost choking her. But she gulped and drew up until only the bulbous head remained inside her salivating lips and sucked with all her strength, feeling gush after gush of the thick, rich semen filling her cheeks. It seemed like there would be no end to the boy's cumming. She swallowed and swallowed and still there was more, until finally he was drained.
Gasping, Donna rose up, brushing her long wheat-colored hair away from her sweating face. A long string of thick white cum trailed from the comer of her mouth and dropped onto the nipple of her left breast. She tossed her head back and swallowed the last drops eagerly, panting, catching her breath. Eddie, dazed by his experience, started to say something, but she motioned him to be quiet and knelt between his legs again, her tongue reverently licking his penis clean. Then she drew the softening member into her contented lips and snuggled down, sucking very gently as the tip of her tongue played with his cockhead.
As she sucked the softening rod of flesh, savoring the after-taste of rich young semen, Donna was lost in reverie. At least she knew one thing -- she could go either way, with abandon. She loved to fuck. She loved to have a mouth, male or female, worshipping her pussy. She loved to taste a young girl's cunt, or be half-choked to death by a cock.
And that damn, foul-mouth Wascomb was the start of it all.
Bless him!
She was so satiated with sex that she never heard the storm when it arrived, although it was heralded by the drumming of hailstones, the flash of lightning, crashing thunder and driving rain. She didn't hear the door which Eddie had latched but not locked blow open.
Donna was aware only of the sweet penis held tenderly between her softly ovaled lips.
Equally enervated, Eddie Young also dozed off, still unable to believe that it had all happened. Thank God his parents weren't home.
* * *
The storm hit with even more violence than had been predicted, with winds of near hurricane force hurling hailstones as large as golf balls amid a torrential downpour which was punctuated and counter-pointed by jagged streaks of lightning and crashing, rolling waves of thunder. The locals had battened down, but at this season the area swarmed with summer people, and a lot of them would be in trouble before the night was out. So every available State Trooper, cop, fireman, ambulance, tow truck, utility company vehicle and crew and anyone else who might be needed was on standby. The distress calls quickly mounted.
Amid those caught in the deluge were the self-ordained Rev. Leo Harrope and his reluctant accomplice. By chance they were on the road which led past Donna Eagles' farm, and were trying to make it in the old truck back to their trailer house. A washed-out culvert blocked them. With some difficulty, Harrope turned the wheezing truck around and retraced his path along a road running nearly six inches deep in water. Their evening of solicitation had gained them nothing. Doors had been slammed in their faces by householders getting ready for the onslaught of the elements.
As they were about to pass Donna's farmhouse, the Rev braked quickly. The front door was wide open. From within came the pale glow of an oil lamp.
"What the hell?" he mused. A wide-open door might offer shelter, which they would soon need. Also, it might mean trouble. Why didn't the occupants of the house close it? Perhaps they were elderly people, bedridden or injured. For all his callous exploitation of little Sylvia and the Bible, Harrope was not without feeling. If he could help someone, at no cost to himself, he would. And they damn well weren't going very far in this bastardly storm. The open door offered a roof. He drove into the yard and parked. He had to shout instructions to Sylvia to be heard over the drumming hail. They were simple. "Run for it!"
Slipping and sliding, they reached the house and slammed the door behind them. The Rev's practiced eye told him there were, or had been, two people. Two empty glasses. He was about to give a shout and thought better of it. Exploring first would be in order. He motioned Sylvia to silence and began his prowl. A dim light from a partly opened door caught his eye. He went to it on squishing feet and peered in.
"Ah will be Gaw-damm," he whispered at the sight of Donna asleep, naked except for the mesh panties, lying between Eddie's legs with his limp penis still in her mouth. In her sleep, she was suckling like a child. The boy was snoring softly. He recognized both from the market and silently motioned Sylvia to the door. He grinned when he saw her mouth drop open in shock, then said, in a whisper, "Go get the Polaroid out of the truck."
"But it's hailin'," the girl protested.
"I don' care if it's shittin'," the Rev whispered fiercely. "Git!"
Swearing under her breath, the teenaged girl obeyed. Harrope carefully took two packets of film. Satisfied with the result, he sought out a hiding place and stowed everything in a cubbyhole beneath the kitchen sink. Then he firmly secured the door.
"What we gonna do now?" the frightened girl whispered.
"Big house here. Must be bedrooms upstairs. Them two won't be wakin' for a while. Les' go see.
There was no need for quiet, with the storm raging. The Rev led the way up the staircase and with a pocket flash found Donna's bedroom. The light switch didn't work but there was another hurricane lamp on a stand and he lit it.
"Fancy bed," he commented. "Le's try it out." He began to quickly shed his clothes.
Sighing, Sylvia stripped off her outmoded garments and stood naked by the bed as she made a plea. "Rev, please fuck me!"
"Homy li'l thing," he whispered with a grin. "Thought you'd got enough cock jes' a while back."
"I mean fuck. Fuck my pussy. Let me cum!" She almost dropped to her knees, pleading. "You never put it in my cunt but long enough to take your damn pictures. Then it's always I got to suck yew off! That's about enough to tear any woman up, an' yew know I don' complain. For the love of Christ, FUCK ME!"
"Yew got a point, Sylvie," he said thoughtfully. "Meet yew halfway. In the ass."
"That's not it!"
"Yew like it. Gurandamtee yew'll cum. Wet me up so I go in easy."
Subserviently, the helpless girl knelt and began to lave his penis, coating it thickly with saliva. Then she crawled onto the bed and supported herself on her elbows and knees, her smoothly rounded young buttocks quivering in anticipation. The Rev, rolling the foreskin back on his tumescent penis, moved behind her and grasped her swaying hips, holding her steady. He brought the red tip of his cock to the puckered rose of her anus. At the instant she felt the rubbery warmth between her ass-cheeks, the young girl rocked back and relaxed and felt it press hard, then burst past the elastic sphincter muscle and slide smoothly into her rectum which already had been invaded so many times that she could take it this way as easily as in her pussy. There was a tingling as Harrope's heavy balls smacked against her wide open cunt and clitoris.
"Ummmmmmm... Oooooohhhhhh!" Sylvie murmured as she fucked back. It did feel good. Maybe if Rev kept it up long enough, she could make it. She strained and writhed and churned her jiggling buttocks and strained to get all of him inside her. After an eternity there was a burning deep in her belly and she knew it was on the way. Wildly she gyrated on the strange bed, bent obscenely under the middle-aged fraud of a man. She wanted to scream out her pleasure but remembered the two asleep downstairs, and forced herself to whisper, "Now -- FUCK HARD AS YOU CAN!"
In faster and faster tempo the rigid pole of flesh speared relentlessly in and out of her tightly clutching anus and the bed rocked with the violence of their fucking. Her sphincter ring clung possessively to the plundering penis and suddenly her belly and loins exploded and sweet scented cum dripped from the dark fringe of hair on her long-denied pussy. Sylvia had to clamp a hand tight over her mouth to avoid screaming out her orgiastic pleasure even as she felt the Rev's loathed cum spurting into her rectum, filling her back passage and squirting out to coat her flexing ass-cheeks and trickle warmly like molasses over the gaping lips of her pussy. The Rev finally collapsed on top of her.
"I dew believe I like your ass better than your mouth. Sylvie," he said.
"At least this way ah get somethin' more'n a belly full of cum." she whispered.
"Listen to that storm. Sure glad we foun' this place," the Rev said. He pulled his softening cock from her distended anus and rolled onto his side. In minutes he was asleep. Despite the foul elements whirling and crashing about outside, the night had opened a new vista, one which could make him a lot of money, enough so he wouldn't need little dumb Sylvia much longer. He could never just boot her sweet ass out -- she might say the wrong thing to the wrong people, even by accident, and then it would be his ass. No. he could find a nice middle-sized city and set her up in a little apartment and she could turn tricks. She was sure good in the sack. But that beautiful blonde downstairs, with the cock in her mouth, she could be worth a fortune. He knew who she was, who the boy was and that the boy was underage, so he had her by the short curly hairs of her beautiful cunt.
The savage storm moved in a tight circle over the Berkshires, punishing the land and the people and their houses through the night. Roads were inundated. Families were evacuated from the lowlands along the Hoositanic River as it overflowed its banks. Gas mains were washed out along with water lines. Telephone and power-company poles toppled with their cables. Trees blocked roads. Except for radio, there was little in the way of communication.
* * *
In the town, two people who did not know each other were concerned about the welfare of Donna Eagles.
One was Wascomb, whose publisher had decided to put out a new line of books, leaving his irascible editor to somehow line up a cadre of writers. Donna had been among his first choices. He had forsaken his ancient motorcycle and sidecar in favor of an airplane and the plane was barely on the ground before the storm hit. He tried Donna's phone but the line was out of order. He could not find a taxi or a car to rent. He said to hell with it, found a bottle shop and a motel room. He would spend the night killing the bottle and reading scripts he had brought with him.
The other was Norma Swenson. She found herself alone at home, as her father and all his electricians were called out to aid the emergency crews. She worried about Donna, all alone at the farm, and wanted to be with her. Police blocked her as she tried to drive past the barricade in her new car, lectured her and ordered her home. Frustrated, she raided her father's hidden cache of dirty books and read herself to sleep.
By daylight, the pounding rain and high winds had slackened but nothing much moved except high, muddy water. Both Norma and Wascomb were obsessed with the need to get to Donna Eagles, if for different reasons.
The beautiful young blonde lesbian vowed to walk through the mud and debris. She dressed in the oldest clothes she could find and stuffed her long slender legs into fishing waders and set out.
Wascomb, feeling the whiskey he had consumed, again searched for transportation and learned the roads were blocked. He cursed and slogged through muddy streets until by some miracle he came upon a diner which was open. By luck he found a stool amid the clamor of muddy, wet men who had been out all night, and told the harried counter girl to just bring him anything available, and coffee, black and hot, quick.
With the steaming cup in his hand, he fell into conversation with the man seated next to him. There were no strangers with morning. They agreed it was a son of a bitch of a storm.
"But those clouds have a silver lining for me," the man said.
"How so?"
"I got a rec vehicle agency. All-terrain machines that go anywhere. Mud, water, sand, they go!" He drew on his pipe. "Now a lot of folks think they're expensive toys, and they are, until something like this hits, and they get a man around when nothing else moves."
"Ah, so," Wascomb said. He had slight knowledge of such machines, but had read about them. He thought quickly of the expense account. "Would you happen to have one to sell?"
"I got more than I care to look at."
"Let's eat quick and go to your store."
An hour later, Wascomb had laid out nearly two thousand dollars for a strange-looking piece of machinery, apparently half-boat and half-wheeled tractor. It had three axles and bent in the middle. It progressed like a fat waddling drunk, but it went where he aimed it, snorting, spinning its thick-treaded wheels. He had a map showing where the high ground would be, but the thing seemed to be able to more or less stay on what was left of the road.
Two miles from the center of town he came upon a girl slogging along in knee-deep water. She wore shapeless foul-weather gear and waders, and long, stringy blonde hair hung limp on her back. He brought the machine to a halt alongside her, staring. She was' young and beautiful. He was interested.
"Hey -- you want a lift, honey?" he called. Nearly exhausted, Norma Swenson stared and said, "Christ, yes!"
"Where the hell are you going in this kind of shit?" Wascomb asked as she clambered over the open side of the vehicle.
"A farm down the road... the Eagles place," she panted.
"You too?" He gunned the little engine and the ATV waddled.
* * *
There was a swelling in Donna Eagles' mouth, growing, filling it completely, waking her. For a moment she was disoriented, and then she realized it was Eddie Young's penis. She had slept the night through without ever releasing it. The teenaged boy was stirring, and slowly she drew his burgeoning staff deep into her throat as the events of the night and the storm returned to her. The lean boy woke to the soft ministrations of her mouth.
"Ooooh, what a way to wake up," he said, grinning and ruffling her tousled blonde hair as she sucked. "Beautiful! Hey, take off those panties and swing around so I can get to you. I want to eat you for breakfast. You ever sixty-nine?"
His words brought Donna back to earth. Reluctantly she let his cock slide from her clinging lips and mumbled, "Oh, baby!" But she felt certain physical demands and went on. "We can try it, but I have to go wash my face first. Be right back."
She did what she had to do in the bathroom, washed the sleep out of her eyes and decided to peek out the windows and see what damage the storm had done. In the living room, she saw the muddy footprints and stared. She followed them to the stairway, and saw they went up but didn't come down. So she had uninvited guests. Donna, her breasts jiggling, tiptoed to the phone, only to find it dead. A quick look around showed nothing out of place. It was strange, to say the least. She wished she had time to think about it, but she felt she should investigate, and was glad Eddie was here with her. To spike her courage, she sought out the bottle of bourbon and took a stiff drink. It made her blink but brought her fully awake. On bare feet she returned to the room. Motioning Eddie to silence, she whispered what she had discovered.
Instantly alert, the boy jumped from the bed and went to see for himself. He peered out the window and saw the truck in the drive, and his eyes widened.
"It's that kooky preacher!" he whispered. "There are two sets of footprints. Maybe the little girl he has with him?"
"We gotta find out, Donna," the teenaged boy said urgently. "You got a gun?"
"What would I need a gun for?"
"Times like this, I guess," he said. "Let me get my pants on."
Wearing only his jeans, Eddie slipped out to the bam to look for a weapon. The only thing he could find was a broken-off axe handle. He gripped it and returned to Donna and said, "I'm going up to have a look. You stay here."
"I'm going with you," the disturbed older woman said. "You don't know what you might find."
"Then damn it, get some clothes on."
"I don't have any clothes downstairs," she said. "Except that crazy gown, and if I have to run, I don't want it holding me back."
Eddie shrugged. He thought if the Bible-thumper woke up to the vision of Donna Eagles wearing nothing but the thinnest of mesh bikinis, her big tits staring him in the face, he would shit. They went up the staircase. The door of Donna's bedroom was closed but not latched. He eased it open and gaped at the sight within.
The Rev. Leo Harrope and his "niece" were sound asleep, their naked bodies entwined. And, he noted, she was really a good-looking chick. Big breasts, tiny waist, good long legs, and a dark triangle of curly hair at the juncture of her thighs, but not thick enough to conceal the ragged lips of her young pussy. Nowhere near the woman Donna was, but still very prime. But what was she doing lying like this with the traveling minister?
Donna peered around his shoulder and looked. She also blinked at the sight, unable to quite comprehend. She said, "Wake them up. Now!"
The bed was an antique brass monstrosity out of the Victorian age. With a grin, Eddie Young hit it a lick with the axe handle. It vibrated like a cross between a harp and Chinese gong, and brought both occupants bolt upright from their slumber. The reverend swore like a mule skinner and the young girl rolled into a ball, cowering, startled and frightened.
"Good morning," Donna Eagles said in a caustic tone. Forgetting she was nearly a hundred percent naked, she advanced into the room. "May I ask just what the hell you're doing here - other than sleeping together in my bed?"
"Mawnin', ma'am," the startled preacher said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes and telling himself this was no time to be at a loss for words. His reddened eyes boggled at the sight of Donna and it all came back to him in a flash, the way she'd been sleeping with the boy's cock in her mouth, and the pictures he'd taken. The boy with the axe handle could be trouble, but some fast talk would make a hell of a lot of difference right now. He decided to drop the hillbilly bit -- this woman wouldn't buy it. Damn Sylvie was whimpering. He slapped her and shut her up and said, "Miz Eagles, the fact is we were on the road when the storm hit. Your front door was wide open, and we saw your light, and we didn't have a chance to get back to our house trailer. So we just found a bed."
"You just found a bed," she said thoughtfully. "You didn't call out to see if anybody was home?"
The Rev dropped his bomb. "Oh, we looked around, but it didn't seem we should disturb you. You looked so happy, asleep downstairs with the young feller's prick in your mouth."
"Son of a bitch!" Eddie went for him but Donna caught him from behind and managed to hold him as Harrope scrambled out of bed and tried to get his pants on as Eddie cursed him. "Listen, you motherfucker, you're shit in this town! You think anybody would believe what you say? But they'll believe us. We live here. If we say you broke in here and then fucked your niece and we caught you at it, you phony bastard, you've had it. If you live long enough to stand trial, you'll get fifty years!"
"Ma'am, can you reason with this boy?" the Rev said to Donna. "I think you'd best do so. I mean that. I have some things to show you."
"Cool it, Eddie," Donna said. "Let's hear him out."
"Sylvie, get your ass out of bed and quit snifflin' and get some of those Polaroids. Not all of 'em... keep the rest hid. Git!"
The frightened girl scrambled from the bed naked, her breasts swaying, her ass-cheeks clenching, and ran from the room and down the stairs. She returned with several color photos, which she gave to Harrope and he in turn approved and passed to Donna Eagles.
Donna's face went white. She wanted to just turn to dust. Her world had exploded, and now she knew she had to make some kind of deal. She and Eddie might testify to what they had seen, but a picture was still worth its thousand words. This had to be hushed up at any cost! She whispered her conviction to Eddie. He still wanted to use the axe handle, but was reluctantly persuaded.
"What, Revered, is your price?" Donna said calmly.
"Yew... I want yew in bed, " he said, leering and licking his lips.
"And damn it, I want that boy to fuck me!" Sylvie amended.
"I'll kill both of them!" Eddie shouted, brandishing the handle.
"Eddie, they're not worth murdering," Donna said. She looked hard at the Rev. "If I do what you want, do I get all the pictures?"
"On my solemn oath, ma'am," the scrawny man said piously.
"If we don't, I will let him beat you to death," Donna said frigidly.
Slowly she rolled the mesh panties away from her hips. She felt her cunt cold and dry.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Futile rage burned in Eddie Young's breast. He wanted to beat the charlatan preacher to death -- with the axe handle or his bare fists, and was sure he could do it. Yet he knew Donna Eagles was older and wiser than himself, and if she was willing to make the sacrifice, there was nothing to do but go along with her.
Donna, meanwhile, was in a state of semi-shock. She would, she vowed, accept any degradation as penance for her illicit seduction of the teenage boy.
The Rev took full command at that point, ordering Sylvia to get the Polaroid and fresh film packs. When she complied, he loaded the camera and ordered Eddie and herself to find another bedroom. "Yew want a fuck, get him to give you one... but don' yew let him cum in youh pussy. Take it in youh ass or mouth, heah?"
At a gesture from Donna, Eddie halted another move toward the Rev. Leo Harrope and, fuming, followed the twitching ass-cheeks of the young girl down the stairs into the bedroom he and Donna had used. As the door closed behind him, Sylvia turned to him and said plaintively. "Ah, didn't want anythin' lak this to happen... but ah gotta do what the Rev says. Yoall got no idea what'll happen if ah don'! Nothin' we can do for your woman. Please fuck me... make me cum! The Rev never does let me cum!"
"I can't do it," Eddie Young said bitterly.
"Am ah that bad?"
"No, you're not bad at all," the boy snapped. He shook his flaccid penis and added, "But with this?"
"Oh, ah know how to fix that!" Licking her full lips, the girl pushed him down on the bed and quickly sucked his cock deep into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the softness of it.
In the room above, Donna was being forced into the greatest humiliation of her life, posing lewdly, stark naked while the gaunt pseudo-preacher used his camera. His tongue was hanging out for her body, but he wanted to get the pictures first in case she ever tried to kick up a fuss. As she subserviently moved from one position to another and he clicked away, the Rev refined his plan.
It centered on making Donna as much of a slave as Sylvie was, and that meant breaking her spirit quickly and completely. He looked over the prints he had made and thought they would do for now. There was a dressing table, and in a drawer he found a tube of vaginal jelly. Dropping his pants and stepping out of them, he began to smear it on his cock while Donna, her face blank, watched.
"Get up on your hands and knees," he ordered. "You gonna get fucked in your pretty ass!"
"Ooooh, noooo... " Donna pleaded. "Nobody's ever... " Shut up an' get up!"
Afraid to disobey, she complied. She felt the bed shake as he knelt behind her, and then his lewdly grasping hands spreading her trembling ass-cheeks. She lurched forward as his crudely extended middle finger probed the tight ring of her anus, sobbing, then gasped as it cruelly thrust past the rubbery barrier, twisting and boring up into her rectum.
The outstretched finger sawed in and out of her and she wept, her tears streaming down her beautiful cheeks and soaking the sheet over which she crouched, awaiting the final humiliation. And then there was the lust-swollen head of his threatening cock replacing the finger, battering at her virginal rectum. Donna clenched her ass-cheeks and cried out as the older man cruelly slapped the quivering globes of her buttocks. She swayed from side to side on wide-splayed knees, helpless, wishing now she'd let Eddie use the axe handle and to hell with the consequences.
Harrope's flesh was stronger than her own, and he breached the barrier of her anus. "Uuuggghhhh!" Donna cried out as, stretched unbelievably, her back passage was forced to accept the rampant spear. Behind her, the Rev held her squirming hips tight and forced his cruelly invading cock deeper and deeper up into her. The pain was terrible, like nothing she'd ever imagined, and she pleaded, "Oh, please stop. Anything but this... ANYTHING!"
"Jes hold still and you'll get to like it pretty quick," her attacker said, slowly beginning to fuck in and out of her defenseless buttocks.
Despite all Sylvia could do, Eddie's cock refused to erect in her salivating mouth. In frustration, she cried, and her tears wet his pubic hair, but the thought of what Donna must be going through made him impotent. Dimly he could hear her cries of protest and pain. He wanted to act, but didn't know what to do. The whole thing was too much for him, particularly this girl who was mouthing his limp penis so desperately. She had seemed so religious and demure when she came into the market, but anybody could see that wasn't the case. And she was scared as hell of something...
"Why don't you tell me what this stinking rotten deal really is?" he blurted. "What's the bastard got on you?"
Sobbing, the frustrated dark-haired girl surrendered his cock from her eager lips and began to tell him...
The ungainly but agile vehicle which slowly carried Wascomb and Norma Swenson toward their destination was forced from the washed out road. Following Norma's directions, the shaggy editor guided it across pastures and meadows and finally into the pond behind Donna's farmhouse where it laboriously churned and splashed like a spastic turtle until it reached the far shore and like a miniature tank, crawled up by the dock. From that point, looking up the slope toward the house, they could see a battered pickup truck.
"What the devil!" Norma exclaimed. "That truck -- I know it. It belongs to this half-crazy traveling preacher, and I know damn well he's got no business being here."
"Let's go ask his business, Norma," Wascomb said. He had tried to figure the girl out since he had picked her up. Obviously she was agitated for the safety of Donna Eagles or she wouldn't have been hoofing it five or six miles through a flood to reach her. Having the requisite mind of all editors - one which thought the worst first and considered other possibilities later -- he had come to the suspicious conclusion that Donna and Norma had a little girlie-girlie thing going, although the way Donna fucked that was hard to believe. He said to her, "You stay behind me. I'm going in."
"What if the doors are locked?" she asked, uncertain.
"Locks are to keep honest people out."
The doors were in fact locked, but the old New England houses were built to keep out weather, not intruders. He unlocked one by the simple method of kicking it off its hinges. He went in fast as he had been trained to do years before as a combat infantryman. He made a lot of noise and heard a scream from somewhere above.
Pounding through the house he encountered a young boy, naked, and a young girl, also naked. Another scream came from above, and they went flying like tenpins as he found the stairs and took them, three at a time. Another scream, and he hit a door without slowing, and as it fell from its frame, saw a scrawny son of a bitch just pulling his cock from the reddened cheeks of Donna Eagles' buttocks.
Wascomb grabbed him by the thin gray hair of his head and hit him once. The blow broke the face from the bridge of the nose to the jaw, and teeth and blood spurted from the ruined mouth as the man dropped like a sack of coal. The others -- Norma, Eddie and Sylvie -- came pounding into the room as Donna cowered, sobbing, on the bed. Wascomb looked at all the naked people.
"Would somebody tell me just what the fuck's going on here?" he asked. "And is there any liquor? I'm dry."
The telling took a lot of time because each had a different version, or only fragments. The editor digested the information and tried to collate it. He concluded they were dealing with a two-bit con man and acted in accord. The Polaroid pictures were collected and burned in the fireplace. The now semi-conscious preacher was, still naked, thrown into the back of his own pickup truck which was driven a mile down the road to a point where a small creek had temporarily become a big river. Eddie drove and Wascomb followed with the rec vehicle. A bank of oozy mud was found, and Leo Harrope was jammed into it up to his waist while the truck was driven into the torrent. Then they went back to Donna's.
The three females, two naked and one still clothed, were in the living room, comparing notes, when the muddy man and boy returned, satisfied with their accomplishment. The Rev would have a hard time explaining how he got into his strange situation. They removed their soiled clothing and took turns in the shower.
"No point to putting our pants back on... nobody else seems to be wearing them, Eddie," Wascomb said with a wink. "Except that Norma, and I guess she'll match the rest of us fast."
They went downstairs stark naked, their half-hard penises swinging from side to side. There was a pot of fresh coffee and some whiskey to lace it with. Norma had shed her outer clothing and wore only a faded shirt and ragged jeans. She brought cups for them and then said, "I feel out of place," and quickly shed her remaining garments.
Donna was covering her face with her cupped hands, sobbing softly. She'd had one stiff drink and it had settled her somewhat but not entirely.
"Oh, my God," she mumbled. "How could this happen to me? For years I was so straight, and in the past month, I've changed so I don't even know myself!" She looked up, appealing for understanding. "Years without a man, and then, Wascomb, you! From you to Eddie, a boy half my age, but I couldn't help myself. And Norma... making love with Norma... going wild when I tasted her pussy! Oh, Jesus!"
"Honey, it's all right," Eddie said, moving to embrace her.
"It's not all right!" she cried. "How do you think I feel when I discover I'm a cocksucker and lesbian and I love it both ways? How do I face myself?"
"Donna, you're talking like you just made an escape from a medieval nunnery," Wascomb said. "Which maybe in a way you have. I admit I sent you down the road, forced you to go out and live, but I didn't think it would lead to this. But what's so wrong about it? Who did you hurt? Nobody! What's wrong with going down on Norma? Hell, I'm going to do it just as soon as I get a chance." He winked at the tall, blonde girl, and she hesitated, then winked back. "And shit, if it was good for you and Eddie, who's to throw rocks? You aren't planning to carry him off into the sunset, and a friendly fuck or suck never hurt anybody. Get it out of your head that you're a witch or something."
"The word is bitch, " Donna said hopelessly. She dried her eyes and looked at each one in turn and took another deep draught of her spiked coffee. "If we're going to play To Tell the Truth, I have to make the most humiliating confession of my life."
"What, darling?" Norma murmured.
"That -- that unspeakable Bible-thumper, what he did to me. You all know... sodomized me. Well, I liked it! Yes, I did! Oh, I hated him, loathed him, wanted to kill him, but when his prick was deep in my ass, I wanted it... I was almost cumming when you broke in. That's what's wrong with me! I'm a fucking sex machine! Oh, I repressed it for so many years, but once I had the excuse, well... " There was a long silence, broken only by Donna Eagles' hopeless sobbing, until Wascomb spoke. "Well, pretty sex Machine, there are five of us here, all linked one way or another. Before we all get taken down with trauma, I think we should go for the bottom line."
"What's the bottom line?" Donna said, her voice flat.
"I say we should all go up to that big bed of yours and have at it."
"An orgy?" Donna gasped.
"Let's call it a tactile encounter session," Wascomb replied. "Come on."
They went upstairs and fell into the big bed, tangling, touching, reaching for hardening cocks and ripe, full breasts and lubricious cunts.
"I want Eddie to fuck me," Sylvia groaned. "Oooh, how I want to really cum!"
"I wouldn't be any good," the boy replied. "I mean, like Donna is my woman."
"Besides, I want him to finish what the Reverend started," Donna said. "I recommend Wascomb... highly, very highly."
"You're trying for twelve cents a word, babe," the editor said with a grin. "As the good Lord said, 'Suffer little children to come unto me'," wherewith he drew Sylvia to him. His penis was huge, and the young girl grasped it eagerly as her legs splayed wide and he mounted her, his strong hands squeezing the firm young mounds of her breasts. The others lay close, their eyes fixed on his cock as the dark-haired girl happily guided it to the lips of her flowering pussy. She gasped with pleasure as it sank deeper and deeper into her trembling loins. Donna knew just what she was experiencing, feeling the rock-hard maleness jamming up into her lubricious cunt, sending rippling waves of tender flesh ahead of it until finally Wascomb was buried to his balls in the gaping orifice, and Sylvia, sighing out her pleasure, tightly locked her legs around him and began to fuck furiously. The bed rocked and creaked, and their thrashing bodies sweated with the fury of their fucking. On each outstroke, the pale, coral-hued inner lips of Sylvia's cunt clasped tight to the rampaging penis as Wascomb pulled back so only the tip remained in her thrashing body, and then he plunged downward with a pile-driver stroke that made her gasp, and his balls smacked wetly against her wide-stretched ass-cheeks.
None of the totally engrossed spectators had ever seen another girl get fucked before, and the contortions, the moans and pantings and gaspings of pure sensual pleasure amazed them.
With a fury, the shaggy editor continued to ram his rock-hard cock deep up into her humping loins until, her eyes glazed, Sylvia fell limp beneath him. When he withdrew from her gushing pussy, he was still hard.
"Next?" he asked, baring his teeth in a lewd grin. "Norma?"
"I-I could never take anything like that!" the teenage blonde stammered. Then she blushed and said, as if confessing a sin, "I'm a virgin."
"Well, we can always tie you to a tree for unicorn bait," Wascomb said. He jerked his head toward the nearly catatonic Sylvia. "She's a smaller girl than you, and it fit. You want Eddie, but right now, Eddie's in the throes of puppy love. All he can think of is Donna. Believe me, you'll be better off losing your cherry to a dirty old man like me than some high school kid."
"It frightens me," Norma whispered. "I'm all tight inside."
"Let me see if I can help," Donna said impulsively. She crawled over tangled bodies and between Norma's legs, her tongue flickering, seeking the soft cuntal lips. With a sigh, Norma relaxed and Donna clamped her mouth tight to the lubricious virginal pussy, her blonde hair spraying over the wide-stretched thighs, not caring that her lewd lesbian act was being witnessed, and again thrilling to the taste of young cunt. Her tongue fluttered like butterfly wings up and down the opening slit, dipping into the well of honey as her lips sucked and then flailed the rising bud of the young blonde's clitoris. She worked her extended middle finger into Donna's tight rectum and once again fucked her with both her hand and her tongue until Norma cried out in ecstasy and jerked her seething loins up to the all-consuming mouth while her hands pulled the bobbing taffy-haired head tight to her genitals.
"Now she's ready," Donna Eagles said, licking her lips as she disengaged herself. "Fuck her!"
Wascomb quickly slid between the outstretched legs, his rigid penis still glistening with the secretions of Sylvia, probing for the relaxed vagina of the virgin lesbian. She groaned as he pressed past the outer lips of her gushing cunt and tried several times to enter her without success.
"I'll help," Donna said, taking his thick shaft in her fingers and guiding it up and down the gaping nether mouth until finally she placed it at the orifice which led to the depths of the young girl's trembling belly. She said, "There... easy."
Wascomb thrust, and Norma Swenson gasped as the bulbous, mushroom-shaped head of his cock encountered the barrier of her maidenhead. She moaned and squirmed, but the pressure was relentless. She wanted it so much, yet feared it even more.
Wascomb lunged, fucking up into the tight wetness of her, and she screamed, her legs flailing. "Aaaauuggghhh!"
Norma's eyes rolled up in her head, and her lips peeled back tight over her teeth as she felt the massive phallus plunging up her pussy like an express train, sending rippling shock waves of tender, virginal flesh ahead of it. It seemed to be endless, but then there was the hard smack of Wascomb's pelvis against her pubic mound, and his heavy, semen-bloated balls slapped against her widespread quivering ass-cheeks. It hurt, but once deep in her cunt, he lay unmoving. She felt his cock flexing, stretching her, and after a minute or two, the pain diminished and it all began to feel funny but sort of good. Tentatively, she moved, grinding her buttocks against the sheet, and as she did, he slowly began to fuck in and out of her.
"Ummmm... " she sighed, trying to stretch herself wider, wanting him deep in her despite the soreness. She drew her long sleek legs up and locked them around his back and clamped her arms around his neck, and her body undulated as she learned how to fuck. Suddenly he was going too slow and easy. She wanted it hard and fast and she began to writhe and screw her cunt up and down the length of his impaling shaft and moaned, "Oh yesss... fuck me! Damn it, FUCK MEEE!"
Fascinated, Eddie, Donna and Sylvie watched the reaming lance of flesh piston in and out of the tender virginal flesh, pumping flecks of blood. Norma was meeting each pile-driving thrust like a mad woman, clawing and drumming her heels on Wascomb's humping back, and when she came the first time it sounded like the scream of a wounded eagle. Wascomb tried to stop, but she wouldn't release him until two more overwhelming orgasms had wracked her limber young body and only then, limp and exhausted, did the teenage blonde, no longer a virgin, free the shaggy editor.
And his penis was still long and rigid.
"How do you manage that?" Donna murmured, gazing at the still erect organ. "You've been... been fucking... for an hour and worn out two young girls, yet you're still as hard... "
"I'm into Yoga," Wascomb said. "I don't understand it, but it works. You know?"
"I know," Donna Eagles said, thinking of how on his previous visit he had repeatedly fucked her almost into insensibility. She wasn't sure she would want a man with such a capability around. Too much of a good thing. She would settle for a normal male, like Eddie. Now, having cast all inhibitions aside, she turned to the lean, teenage boy and said, "I'd like you to finish what the dear departed Reverend began."
"Fuck you in the ass?" the boy blurted. "Really. I want it to be you." She wished she still had the decency to blush, but now she was just a feral woman. Anything was acceptable and desirable. She knelt on knees and elbows and waggled her smooth buttocks in invitation, trembling as she felt his hands on her hips, holding her steady, and then the insistent pressure of the mushroom-shaped head of his slender young cock against the tight ring of her anus. Looking down between her swaying breasts, she could see the length of his virile young cock and the heavy balls swinging at its base. Donna Eagles willed her body to relax and enjoy what was about to happen.
But she failed. She cried out in pain at the first attempted entry. God, but it hurt! She thought she could take it easily, now that it had happened to her once, but she was still uptight and her muscles clenched against the intrusion.
"Oh, damn -- I want to but I can't!" she cried out.
Panting, young Eddie backed away, frustrated, but Norma was crawling across the bed to embrace Donna and whispering to her, "Darling, I know how to relax you, if you really want to do this."
"I want to... but it hurts so much," Donna replied.
"I know how to make it feel good."
Then Norma was behind her, bending low as she knelt, her lips hot on Donna's cunt, her tongue swirling into it until Donna was gasping with sensual pleasure. Norma continued to lick and kiss, up through the wide-stretched crease of the trembling ass-cheeks, to the erogenous zones along the spine and then back down to her anus.
Norma's tongue rimmed it as it had once before and then wriggled past the tight sphincter muscle, long inches into the hot steaming depths of Donna's squirming rectum until Donna was gasping for breath and furiously grinding herself back to the warm wetness of tongue and lips. Her cries grew higher and higher in pitch, and they all knew she was on the verge of cumming when Norma suddenly pulled back and, seizing Eddie's throbbing cock, led it once more to its target.
This time, Donna barely grunted as the blood-swollen knob popped past the elastic sphincter muscle. She churned her buttocks and humped back as the teenage body's invading shaft inexorably drove deep up into the seething heat of her rectum.
"Ooooooh... Yesss!" the taffy-haired woman moaned, squirming to spread herself wider until the rigid phallus was embedded in her trembling buttocks to the hilt, and the heavy, sperm-laden testicles were jammed hotly against her dripping cunt. Now there was a strange mixture of pain and pleasure involved. It seemed her flesh was stretched to the breaking point as the boy flexed his rampant spear in the depths of her back passage, but it felt so good. She found herself undulating, humping her back, fucking with her buttocks, screwing up on the impaling penis while Eddie remained immobile, letting her set the pace.
"Nice... nice... " the enraptured blonde chanted. "Nice and slow. Oooohh, I can feel it almost in my throat. Make it last, darling, make it last!"
Slowly, the two tightly locked figures rocked back and forth, Eddie's pulsing penis sinking into the tender little hole that was stretched so tightly around it, Donna setting the pace, grinding from side to side up and down to increase the sensations brought on by the anal penetration. Now, she was completely relaxed, and he was moving in her anus as easily as he would in her cunt. She smiled in triumph at the others and tossed her long mane of honey hair and suddenly jerked back so hard that his balls flattened against her lust-distended pussy with an audible wet smacking sound like the tail of a beaver spanking the water.
"This is beautiful, but this ex-virgin is still bleeding," Norma said. "I've got to find a towel or something or the bed will be ruined."
Impulsively, as Eddie's relentless staff bored again into the depths of her anus, Donna panted, "Darling, I want to taste it."
"Oh, wow!" Norma wriggled into position on her back, her long, sleek legs open, her pussy directly below Donna's salivating mouth. Ravenously, Donna dipped her head, her tongue seeking the red-tinged blonde hairs of the young girl's pussy. As the cock plunged in and out of her anus she licked and sucked as Norma's thighs clamped her slavering face. With a grin and a wink, the tall Scandinavian girl said, "Oh, honey, where did you ever learn to eat pussy!" As Donna slithered her tongue deep into the younger girl's fragrant pussy, supping on mingled orgasmic juices and virgin blood, she wondered what she must look like in this position. Joyously getting fucked in her own virgin ass-hole and with her face buried in the sweet, seething loins of a beautiful girl. For a moment she wished the Rev's camera was at hand so she could preserve this moment. She thought she could go on forever and hoped Eddie would be able to hold off from cumming because his prick felt so good. All memory of the storm and what it had brought had left her... she was living from minute to minute and loving it.
Oh, how well she had followed Wascomb's advice. It had not only accomplished his purpose in giving it so many other doors had swung open. She sucked tenderly at the young cunt and rolled her eager tongue around and around Norma's clitoris until Norma cried out in the throes of a new orgasm and fucked up hard against her mouth, bruising her tender lips and gushing sweet juices onto the flat of her lashing tongue.
"No more... no more for now," Norma mumbled, scooting away, her hand cupping her pubic mound. She lay close to Sylvia and they watched. She asked, "How long can this ass-fucking go on?"
"I've been wondering the same," Wascomb said. "Christ, we're going to have to get a razor and shave him pretty soon." He laughed and reached out to turn Donna Eagles' passion-flushed face up to him. "How'd you like to be the meat in a sandwich?"
"Huh?" the sensually enraptured blonde said as she ground her buttocks back on the impaling shaft of male flesh. "Sandwich?"
"Both Eddie and I do it to you at once."
"You mean suck you while he's in me?" the confused girl said, not breaking her rhythm. "Why not?"
"No. I go into your pussy," Wascomb said. "It's fabulous."
"It can't be done," Donna protested earnestly. The proposal didn't shock her... she thought it must be some outlandish joke which had come to Wascomb's libertine mind. "But after what I've been through, I'll try anything."
"Why not?" The homely editor showed his crocodile teeth. "Eddie, you turn her over slowly so you're underneath and Donna's spread out over you. And hold her tight because at first she'd going to yell like hell. But then she'll love it. Okay."
"I don't like the sound of this," Donna gasped, but before she could break free, Eddie had her head held tight and rolled on top of him, her legs flailing, his penis still to the hilt in her anus. He was holding her arms as Wascomb, peeling back the foreskin of his cock, crawled between their legs. Suddenly, the enormity of what lay in store for her struck Donna, and she struggled, but she had no chance. She saw the enormous bulbous head of Wascomb's phallus and then felt it nuzzling at the gaping mouth of her pussy as he raised over her in a pushup position. She groaned, "Ooooohhh... Noooo!" But her protest was in vain as she felt the tip of his cock move between the soft, coral-hued lips of her quivering cunt, seeking the entrance to her vaginal passage. He pressed forward as he had when he took Norma's cherry, but now she was too tight with Eddie's cock thick in her anus and only paper-thin membranes separating the two channels. He could never get it into her, but he could hurt her terribly by trying.
"Damn, this is tight," Wascomb said as he grunted and thrust. "How about you chicks help me fuck her?"
With a soft chuckle, always happy to see someone else go through the kind of torture she'd had to sustain, even though that person might be a real friend, Sylvia reached out to grasp Wascomb's long shaft and firmly hold the rigid member to the constricted orifice. Straining, Wascomb thrust forward.
"Eeeeyyyaaahh!" Donna screamed as the bulbous head forced entry. Her legs flailed the air wildly, but there was no way to escape the terrible impalement. Inch by inch, thrust by thrust, the editor's massive member drove far up into her defenseless cunt. She was sure her vitals were being irreparably ripped and tom, that she would bleed to death internally. And then there was a final brutal lunge and Wascomb's rampant shaft was buried to the base in her vitals, separated from Eddie's cock only by the thinnest of membranes. Tears of pain and shame ran down her cheeks, and she made no resistance when the worldly-wise Sylvia raised her legs and placed them over Wascomb's back. The position eased the pain somewhat, at least. She felt Wascomb's cock flex in her cunt. She tightened the clamp of her legs around Wascomb as tears of anguish poured from her dark eyes. Donna moaned, "I can't -- can't take it!"
"You can, and you'll love it," Wascomb said, unconcerned with the incredible pain the sandwiched blonde was enduring with the two rigidly unyielding penises jammed far up into her loins. "Just fuck, honey. Fuck with your cunt and your asshole and see how good it feels."
"Aaaauuggghh!" Donna cried out as Wascomb withdrew slightly and then drove back to the depths of her vagina, and Eddie, aroused, followed suit, sliding his cock almost all the way out of her tender anus and then, sawing back into her soft body. How could they do this to her? "It hurts... ohh, how it hurts!"
"Roll her on her side, she's pretty well-stretched," Wascomb said to Eddie. "And don't be in a hurry. For the chick, a sandwich fuck has to last or it's no good."
I'm just a piece of meat to them, Donna Eagles thought in despair as she felt herself being maneuvered so she was lying on her side. Eddie's groping hands found her tender breasts and kneaded them while Wascomb's fingers were pinching the quivering globes of her abused buttocks. They began to fuck in and out of her cunt and rectum in steady, slow rhythm. She could feel the two rigid cocks rubbing against each other, separated only by the thin membranes of her vaginal and rectal passages. She squirmed, trying to escape the cruel, double impalement, but every movement seemed only to let them go deeper into her violated body.
But even as she strained, the pain diminished and became strangely pleasurable, and Donna found herself jerking forward with her pussy to welcome Wascomb's reaming member and then back as it withdrew to absorb Eddie's phallus deep into her anus. Donna had never dreamed anything could be like this, having both her cunt and ass jammed full of plundering cocks, and the very revolting obscenity of it perversely thrilled her. She squirmed, but no longer to escape, but to get more of them.
"Oooohhh... what fucking!" she crooned. "Harder! Hurt me! FUCK MMEEEE!"
Eagerly participating now, she found herself buffeted back and forth between the humping male bodies like a badminton bird. She jerked and slammed her buttocks violently up to Eddie's reaming rod of flesh until it felt like her anus would split, and then thrust her pubic urgently forward to take every inch Wascomb could jam into her burning hot cunt and chanted, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... " In wild abandonment she writhed and undulated in a euphoric daze of sensuality, slamming her grinding hips back until her anus was stretched to the limit, then surging forward to feed her hungry cunt with cock. In the hot, wet depths of Donna's loins, a boiling tidal wave built and began to break. Every muscle in her wildly straining body jerked and twitched as she bounced between them like the clapper of a fast-ringing bell.
"Oooohhh... Eeeeyaaahhh... Aaauuhhh! Fuck meee! Fuck meee, I'm cuummiiinngg!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as the wave curled and crashed and her cunt spewed forth its juices. Her orgiastic passion set off that of the two who were so wildly fucking her, and she felt the cocks swell and begin to spurt hot, viscous cum into both her wildly churning orifices. She groaned, "More... more... more... don't stop fucking now!"
The jerking, pulsing rods of flesh remained solid in her, but the pace slowed, and for a long time, instead of being crushed and smashed between the male bodies. Donna crooned as the two penises lazily worked in and out of her cunt and rectum. And then it was building again, and she took the initiative, writhing and grinding and fucking wildly front and back until again there was the great squirting of hot semen and in herself a delirious delight which brought her to the edge of passing out. She barely felt it as the now-soft cocks eased from her forever-stretched pussy and rectum.
Only then did she become aware of what was happening inches away on the big bed. Norma and Sylvia were face-to-loins, locked in a tight embrace, the tongue of each wildly delving into the wide-open pussy of the other, groaning and sighing as they licked and sucked.
She found watching the wanton passion of others fascinating, the way their lips closed so ravenously on each other's pussies and their tongues slithered and lashed. Even the liquid sucking sounds stirred her, and Donna knew that, perverse as it might be, she had to somehow preserve this thing she had discovered. She didn't quite know how it could be done, but she would find a way. For too long she had denied herself as a woman, but now she had learned to give and take from both men and women. For the first time in her life, she felt free.
The forces of nature and the curiosity of the police provided the solution for her.
Mother Nature had sent a bolt of lightning into the pine grove where the Rev. Leo Harrope had parked his trailer. It being the only metal object in the area had taken the full force of the millions of volts of electricity. Trailer and contents were reduced to dust, including cameras and hundreds of pornographic, pictures of Sylvia.
The itinerant preacher himself, badly battered, had been found up to his neck in mud not far from the remains of his truck. He could not or would not explain how it happened or why he was stark naked when rescued. He claimed amnesia, saying the last thing he remembered was driving his young niece Sylvia Keens to Boston to catch a plane to San Francisco and encountering the savage thunderstorm on the way back. He said he was leaving town himself.
The news items were bits and pieces of a storm-flood roundup on the local television station, watched in Donna's living room by the five who knew the story behind the story.
"Well I guess that wraps it," Wascomb said. "Shame to break up such a congenial bunch."
"Who says we have to break up?" Donna protested. She knew Wascomb had to leave. He had used the intervening hours to talk over the new writing assignment, and she had accepted. "Norma and Eddie are right here in town. Sylvia is really abandoned, and it gets lonesome out in the country. She'll stay with me. By the time we fix her hair differently and put her into micro-minis and fruit boots, nobody'll recognize her as the Rev's niece. We've already rapped that out. And you're only an hour away on the bird. Come up weekends."
"You've got a deal," Wascomb said. "But now I've got to get into that strange machine and flee."
"Kiss good-bye," Donna said teasingly.
"What else?" He bent to kiss her as she sat in the wing chair, but Donna, laughing lewdly, peeled off the short robe she was wearing and was startlingly naked. "Not that way, dum-dum! Like this!"
With a smooth motion she slid to her knees in front of him and fished his penis from his pants. Teasing it with her fingers to hardness, she rolled the blood-swollen head around her lips and tongue and drew it into the saliva-filled warmth of her mouth. As she struggled to absorb its unusual length, Wascomb slowly sank to the hooked rug carpeting. As her nose finally buried itself in his pubic hair, and she could feel his cock almost in her stomach, she felt hands at her bare buttocks, and then the mushroom-shaped head of Eddie's virile shaft pushing deep up into her anus.
"Ummmmm... " Donna Eagles moaned, sucking hard as she fucked her churning buttocks back. "Ummmmm... "
