It was a warm morning in early September. Bob and Lorna Grayson lay sleeping in the spacious bedroom of their fashionable suburban home in Jericho, Long Island. As the sensuous golden beams of the sun fell on Bob's body, he began to awaken. He glanced sleepily at the clock: 7:00, a half-hour before he was due to get up. He lay back, feeling luxurious. Turning, he noticed the lush, beautiful body of his wife twisting seductively in what appeared to be a pleasant dream. He gazed at her, admiring the long, blonde hair that framed her face in delicate silken strands, her clear alabaster skin, and the deep, natural redness of her lips. Through the sheer gauzy material of her nightgown, he could see the swelling of her full, pointed breasts, rising and falling in small rhythmic waves as she slept beside him. As he gazed at her, he felt his long, thick penis stiffen with desire. Instinctively he reached across the bed and began to caress her body, to cover her with kisses.
Lorna stirred sensually in her sleep as her husband's hands explored her body and his lips softly brushed her cheeks, her hair. At first she smiled languidly and let herself be kissed and touched; but as she grew closer to consciousness, she began to resist, and her body tensed.
"Bob", she said softly, half-awake.
"Oh baby", he murmured, "you're so beautiful.
His hand found its way under the silky negligee and he began to knead the soft, resilient mounds of her breasts. Lightly he flicked over the nipples, feeling them harden under his touch, then, with mounting hunger and intensity, his hand moved down across the smooth, trembling planes of her stomach and closer to the warm, curl covered mound between her legs. He wanted her, he wanted to fuck her on this beautiful, radiant morning. He had awakened feeling like a strong, young stag, and he wanted to mount his golden-haired doe while she was still hazy with sleep. Only half-awake himself, he savored the tingling sensuality that pervaded him. He kissed her lips deeply, and as he did so he slipped his hand down to the sparsely growing triangle of pubic hair, running his fingers in the softness of the curling strands, further down until the tip of his finger teasingly touched the fleshy pink slit nestled in the hair. He could feel his wife's body react to the touch.
"Mmmmm ..." she moaned, as she felt his finger glide like a feather across the warm fleshy furrow.
Bob was delighted! Usually Lorna resisted his advances, especially in the early mornings. She had been brought up rather strictly by a maiden aunt who took charge of her when her parents were killed in a car crash. From the time she was three years old, she had been brought up to fear men, and to grow cold at the suggestion of sex.
He knew he was the first man she had ever known intimately, and on their marriage night she had grown hysterical and wept for hours. He vowed to be gentle with her, sure that with time and patience her responses would become all he could wish for. But it seemed no matter what he did, she remained frigid and resistant. It had been a year, and there seemed no tangible progress. To be sure, they had had several sexual encounters, some very pleasant, but for the most part their love-making had been limited, and on her part, passionless. Now, however, Bob definitely felt she was responding warmly and fully to his touch. He could feel lust welling up in him, lust that he had carefully controlled for months. His large, thick shaft was achingly alive, straining against the material of his pajamas. He wanted her as he had never wanted anyone in his life. His finger pushed deeply into her tight cuntal sheath, stretching wide the smooth fleshy walls, moving in and out, his excitement mounting.
Lorna suddenly came fully awake and realized what was happening. Before she could do anything about it she felt her body grow rigid with tension; fear rushed through her.
"Bob ... ", she said pleadingly, "please".
"Oh baby", he moaned, lost in the delicious feelings that pervaded him, "let me love you. Oh, let me love you ... "
Lorna felt herself begin to tremble with terror. A vivid image of her Aunt Rose, the maiden-lady who had raised her, flashed sharply into her brain. She could see the mask of disapproval she knew so well - the tight, bitter mouth and the sharp eyes that denounced all sex and all men with one chilling glance. Lorna found herself anxious and guilty.
"Bob ... ", she said, "it's so early ... you know how I am in the morning. Please ... "
Feeling her resistance, Bob opened his eyes and looked fully at his wife. A tight-lipped, sour expression marred her nearly perfect face. The lean sensual body, which had adorned the cover of almost every important magazine in the country, was pulled as close as possible to the other edge of the bed, as if she wanted to shrink away from him and disappear. The sight washed away all Bob's ardor instantly.
"What's wrong?" he asked, making an effort to cover his irritation.
"I ... I don't know", she whimpered. "It's just so early ... I guess I don't feel in the mood ... "
Bob moved away from her, feeling himself grow bitter.
"You never are in the mood", he snapped. "Not in the morning, not in the afternoon, and not at night! I guess my timing is just totally off!"
He bolted from the bed and moved quickly into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. As he turned on the shower, angry thoughts raced through his mind. Goddamn it! How much time does she need to get over this fear of hers? It's been a year now, and things are getting worse, not better! He loved his wife, loved her deeply, but as time went by and their sexual relations had grown steadily worse, he felt his love turning to resentment, even anger! He knew they were drifting farther and farther apart. He stepped into the shower, and let the warm water wash over his tall, well-muscled frame. Maybe I should take a cold shower, he thought ironically.
He remembered when they had met. It was scarcely a year and a half ago. He had just been made editor of Metropolitan, one of the top magazines in New York. At twenty-eight, it had been quite a coup for him to achieve the status of editor-in-chief with near total control of the poetry, fiction, and news features that went into the monthly issues. When he met Lorna, she had been in New York only a few months, but was already a top photographic model Freshness, her wholesome looks, her radiant blonde hair placed her very much in demand. They met in Central Park, quite by accident, and fell in love almost immediately. Funny he thought, soaping his arms and chest, the thing I liked most about her was that she wasn't like the other models, ready. to do anything for a job. Her air of innocence and reserve was real. The backroom talk about Lorna among the photographers and editors was all speculation, because nobody had gotten to first base with her. There weren't any. snickers or sly whispers when she walked into the studio; rather, the hard-bitten, cynical professionals she worked with actually seemed to respect her. After a whirlwind romance, they had gotten married and moved to the house they now occupied in Jericho. For Bob it seemed like a dream come true. After struggling for years as a writer, living in Greenwich Village and being as poor as a church-mouse, he had suddenly gotten an opportunity to work with Metropolitan. Three years later he was top editor, married to a ravishingly beautiful girl, and had a fine house on Long Island. But now all that seemed to be crumbling. He was running out of patience and there was no concealing it. Although he was no Don Juan, he had bad some experience before his marriage; but Lorna presented a problem so deep that he had no way of solving it. He had tried everything, but nothing had worked. There seemed no solution. Feeling flat and defeated, he stepped out of the shower and began to dress.
In the other room, Lorna lay in bed, close to tears. She, too, was deeply troubled over the state of their marriage. She knew the problem lay primarily with her, and that her fear was rooted in the upbringing her Aunt Rose had given her. But she had no idea how to fight against it. She had thought, hoped desperately that Bob's gentleness and patience would break down her resistances; but so far it seemed to have had no effect. In fact, as time went by, she could feel herself grow even more closed off to physical contact, more rigid and unfeeling.
She remembered bitterly her childhood with Aunt Rose in Columbus, Ohio. Rose had never married, and was vehement on the subject of men.
"They're animals", she would say, over and over, "filthy animals with only one thing on their minds. You mind me, Lorna, don't get mixed up with 'em. Don't do like your mother did and get trapped into marriage. You have a career, and you stick to it, or believe me you'll be a mighty sorry girl. Yes indeed, a mighty sorry girl."
All through high school she had avoided dates, although she knew she was sought after. She had changed from an ugly duckling in her early adolescence to a fully developed, extremely beautiful girl. The phones were constantly ringing with boys asking her out. But even the ones that weren't stopped by her own indifference couldn't stomach Aunt Rose's angry accusations.
"Don't you call back here again, you filthy trash", she remembered hearing Rose shout time and time again into the phone.
By the time Lorna had decided to go to New York and try her luck with modeling, she was twenty-one, still almost completely inexperienced with men. Her aunt's words were burned into her brain with such intensity that once in New York she remained aloof and untouchable. She lived at a hotel for women, and made sure that none of the men she met professionally had a chance to get anywhere with her. But all that had changed when she met Bob.
She remembered seeing him in the park that sunny spring day. His slim, muscular body, clad in tight chinos and a thin T-shirt, his dark, curly hair and his piercing brown eyes had enchanted her. Particularly his eyes. It seemed to her that they were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen, so gentle, so warm. They fell in love, and the power of their feelings almost washed away Aunt Rose's stern warnings. They had so much to share, she remembered. They both loved books, music, poetry, and museums. She was fascinated by his job at Metropolitan. After seeing each other for only a month, she had agreed to quit her job and marry him. She had been deliriously happy, and when they found their suburban home, it seemed as if nothing could ever go wrong between them.
She had written Aunt Rose a long, cheerful letter telling her of their plans, and inviting her to their wedding. She received no answer, and though she was hurt and disappointed, she assumed that time would dull her aunt's animosity. But on their wedding day, a long, bitter letter from Aunt Rose arrived, accusing Lorna of being ungrateful and foolish and promising, "You will soon understand, within hours, in fact, that the step you are taking has committed you to a lifetime of shame and degradation, but by then it will be too late."
And that night, Lorna had lain frozen with terror, unable to respond to Bob's loving carresses, seeing only the bitter, twisted image of her aunt's face, accusing and angry. From that point on things went from bad to worse.
The sound of Bob stepping out of the shower interrupted her reverie, and she got out of bed quickly threw on a robe, and went downstairs to make coffee.
At the table Bob ate in silence. Lorna had prepared an elaborate breakfast, hoping to soften his anger, but he hardly looked at her from the time he came downstairs. At eight o'clock he got up from the table, picked up his briefcase, and headed for the door that led to the garage.
"Bob ... I'm sorry ... " she stammered as he opened the door. "I just need more time. It'll be all right, you'll see."
She smiled at him, trying to convey what she felt. Seeing her looking so frail and miserable, Bob's anger softened, and he moved to embrace her. Instinctively she withdrew, offering him her cheek instead of her lips. He turned on his heel abruptly and went out the door, without even a backward glance. Lorna watched through the window as he backed the car into the street and drove off. She poured herself a cup of coffee, tears streaming from her eyes.
Had she not been so distraught, she might have noticed a dark figure who turned the corner of their tree-lined street just as Bob's car pulled away. From the shade of a huge elm tree, he gazed at the gracious, rolling lawns, the neat hedges, the houses that seemed so safe and secure. "So this is where the bastard lives," he said, brushing a matted lock of long, dark hair away from his sweat-dampened forehead. "Christ! It looks like a fuckin' Christmas card!"
By the time Bob got to the expressway entrance, he had managed to cool down a little, but his resentment was still burrowing in him like a worm. He knew Lorna was trying her best, but he was at his wit's end. He turned on the radio for the traffic report.
" ... ... traffic over the George. Washington Bridge is heavy this morning, with delays on the West Side Highway. Motorists using the Long Island Expressway are cautioned that an accident has slowed the line of traffic back as far as the Robert Moses Park."
Damn, he thought, just when I didn't want any more problems. Glancing up at the cloudless sky, he knew the day was going to be muggy and uncomfortable, and as he drove he felt a knot of tension growing in his stomach.
Lorna sat at the kitchen table drinking her second cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette. Like Bob, she was unable to tear her mind away from the events of the morning. "Oh God," she moaned, leaning her head on her hands, "what's wrong with me?" Increasingly, of late, she had begun to consider the Possibility that she was abnormal, in need of another kind of help, something more than Bob could give her. Once or twice she had thought of going to an analyst, but her mind recoiled at the possibility of exposing her past with the frankness that she had heard analysis required. Besides, Aunt Rose had always said that what people who went to psychiatrists really needed was to confess their sins. What would I confess? she thought desparingly. Why am I being punished like this?
Like someone drowning, she began to see scenes from her past life rising before her eyes. It all seemed normal enough - although she had been lonely, for Aunt Rose rarely approved of any of her friends. "Riff-raff," she called them. "You shouldn't waste your time on them, Lorna." So Lorna spent most of her time alone, or with Aunt Rose. Vacations were worst of all, those long Midwestern summer days that faded into gray and golden twilights Then she had wished for ... Suddenly the succession of images stopped, and she felt the familiar tension. She had been, she felt sure, about to remember something, something frightening and shameful. What was it? "I must remember," she said through gritted teeth. "I must remember!" Something terribly important was just out of reach in her memory of those long summer nights. She closed her eyes again and tried to think. And suddenly in a rush, the scene she had been trying to remember came back to her.
It was the summer when she was thirteen years old. She had gone to bed early, but the oppressive heat made it impossible to sleep. For the preceding few months she had been aware of strange feelings in her body, stirrings she had never known before. Often in the warm summer evenings she would take off her frilly nightgown and lay naked on her bed, watching the breeze rippling through the soft white curtain& On this particular night the warmth of the breeze seemed to fall over her body like a caress. As she lay restlessly on her bed, trying to sleep, her skin began to shiver and tingle with a strange, forbidden feeling of delight. Somewhere deep inside she felt the restless tuggings wild urge. She looked at the mysterious softness of the small puffy mound down between her legs which was just beginning to sprout thin little curls of delicate blonde hair. Involuntarily, despite a vague feeling that she shouldn't, she found her young hands moving down there. The delicately curled tendrils of her pubic hair were warm and damp, and soft, so soft to the touch. It was a curiously pleasant feeling, she thought, to touch herself this way, instinctively, she flexed her knees and spread her legs further apart, in order to place her whole palm over herself down there. She was amazed to feel a throbbing under her hand, almost like a heartbeat. Curiously, she slipped her middle finger between the moist outer lips, and felt a sudden contraction, a spasm that seemed to go through her entire body. She jerked her hand away in surprise, and noticed that the pulsation she had felt before went through her whole body. How funny, she thought, it's like an echo. Instinctively, her little fingers found their way back to her now warmly trembling little pussy. Tentatively she worked her fingers forward until they touched the tiny bud of her pubescent clitoris. A delightful shock, almost like electricity, passed through her innocent young body. She began to flick her fingers lightly back and forth over the trembling organ, scarcely aware of what she was doing. As she did so, the wonderful feeling, so mysterious and exciting, increased. She felt she had made a wonderful discovery. With her free hand, she touched the soft, moist outer lips. Her excitement rose. She began to squirm and twist her virginal young body as the flames of newly discovered passion pulled her on and on.
"Oooooohhhhh," she moaned, "Oooooooh."
She flicked her fingers~ more intensively over her tiny, sensuous clitoris, now throbbing and erect, then over the hot, wet crevice, each movement creating a wild, exciting feeling that she had never known before. Her slim, pubescent body was Tacked with thrills that were totally new! She was experiencing the first awakening of pleasure; her body was electrified with the strange stirrings of early adolescence.
"Yes .... yes ... yes ... " she moaned in the darkness.
Then, her heart pounding with excitement, she slowly inserted her fingers into the trembling, young cuntal passage .... further and further she explored the deep, fleshy channel, and as she did so she felt overcome with delightful flashes of warmth and excitement.
As she began to push her fingers in and out, she realized that by doing so she could increase these wonderful sensations, and so with increasing excitement she began to manipulate her youthful hands into the tenderly pulsating hole; she increased her strokes, and as she did she felt herself possessed by sweet, aching feelings that seemed to transport her far from her bed, far from the room, into a paradise of shimmering delight, laced with a wondrous new feeling of desire. Although she did not know what she was doing, and was simply responding to the deeper urges of instinct and nature, she did know she had never felt so wonderful in all her life! She pulled her legs up further, opening her painfully heated young pussy even wider, manipulating her clitoris and thin fleshy vaginal furrow with increasing abandon and passion. She arched her body upwards, her fingers sinking deeper and deeper. Her breathing became quicker, sweat began to drench her naked young body, she felt consumed in an incredible steamy wetness.
She began to shudder from deep, deep within her, and the intensity of the feeling at first terrified her. She was about to experience her first orgasm; the tender, bursting bloom of adolescence was about to crash over her like a light summer storm. But carried forward by the waves of pleasure that washed over her, her anxiety .was soon melted away, and she could feel a wild river of excitement begin to gush and gather force from the activity of her young, probing fingers.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!" she cried aloud, overcome by a wild shattering force, a deep and thrilling ecstasy that seemed to overwhelm her completely. She was cumming! For the first time in her young life she was cumming! Her smooth, white-skinned body, so ripe and tender, was shuddering with the waves of that voluptuous radiance. Her pubescent skin was glowing with the intensity of the feeling that raced through her. She felt as if floodgates had opened deep within her cuntal passage and a rushing, shimmery waterfall of incredible ecstasy was carrying her away. Her young body was convulsed with deep, thundering spasms. Her cuntal passage was drenched in the first rush of female fluid. She felt herself soaring upward in a wild flight of feeling, light as a feather, light as a bird flying to heaven. Her pubescent hips were twisting and thrashing, her throbbing cuntal slit was a surging volcano of excitement ...
"Ooo�oohh!" she moaned, "oo�ooh!"
Her nostrils flared as she smelled the excited female odor of her body sweat mixed with the sweet perfume of the lilac sachet she kept under her pillow. She yearned to remain lost forever in the wonderful, turbulent feeling that pervaded her. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world, having discovered a secret delight that as far as she knew no one else knew about. It felt so wonderful! So lovely!
Finally, after what seemed like hours of sweet, throbbing excitement, her still slightly jerking body seemed to float gently back onto the reality of her bed. A lovely, relaxing coolness wafted over her. Slowly she sank back into the sheets and pillows, her vagina moist and radiant from the beautiful experience that had gone before.
But suddenly, the light in her room was snapped on harshly, and a cruel, bitter voice screamed at her!
"YOU LITTLE TRAMP! YOU FILTHY GUTTERSNIPE!"
It was Aunt Rose! Lorna was terrified! How long had she been watching, she thought in panic? Had she seen everything? Her aunt moved towards her, her eyes blazing, her hand raised to slap her. Lorna tried to move away, her naked, frail body scrambling across the bed, but Aunt Rose grabbed her brutally by the hair and pulled her back.
"I'll teach you! I'll teach you," she shrieked, and slapped Lorna's face again and again. Pain burned into her, turning what had been so rhapsodic and delightful into a nightmare so horrible she would never want to repeat it. Lorna lay crying and weeping, huddled in the tear-stained sheets of her bed as her aunt smacked her over and over again with the palm of her hand.
"I hope that teaches you a lesson, my girl! If you think that was painful, believe me that's nothing compared to what will happen if you have ANYTHING to do with sex again! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and stamped out of the room, slamming the door behind her, leaving Lorna tormented and whimpering on the bed ...
Back in the kitchen of her suburban home, her mind slowly returning to the present, Lorna remembered the incident with vivid intensity, wondering if perhaps this was a key to the frigid coldness that pervaded her sexuality. But her thoughts were interrupted by a crashing sound in the living room. Her mind exploded in panic: Someone was in the house!
Chapter Two
Lorna sat absolutely still, frightened, and listened. There was silence. But then she heard what she thought was a shuffling noise ... almost, she thought ... almost as if somebody was moving in the living room!
"Bob?" she called. "Is that you?" No one answered. Trembling from head to foot, she rose from the table and moved slowly to the hallway. She stopped to listen again at the kitchen door, but heard nothing. Edging her way along the hallway she approached the archway leading to the living room. She could see no one, and nothing seemed to be disturbed but ... yes, yes the door to the living room was slightly ajar! Glancing quickly around, seeing no one, she moved to the front door and opened it. There was no one there. Only neighbors leaving for work, and cars driving up the street. There was no one near the house. She shut the door.
It must have been the wind, she thought, that blew the door open. She laughed to herself, realizing how jumpy she'd been and resolved to try and relax a little. Then, suddenly, she noticed that the small Chinese vase usually on the end table next to the sofa was smashed into pieces on the floor. She moved into the living room slowly, glancing around, once again terrified. But no one was there. She knelt down and fingered the broken pieces of the vase. How, could the wind have knocked this over? she wondered. Then she saw mud stains on the carpet leading into the hallway! She caught her breath, her heart pounding! Quickly, she got up and moved into the hallway. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a hairy, muscular arm grabbed her around the neck, and a flat, sweaty palm damped over her mouth, preventing her from screaming. A heavy, masculine voice spoke, as she twisted, terrified, in the iron grip.
"Keep your mouth shut and nothing'll happen to you," the voice said. "You make one wrong move, baby, or try to shout and I'll belt you from here to kingdom come! Do you understand me?"
Lorna was paralyzed. Her mind was spinning. What's going on? she thought. What's happening? He dragged her into the living room and hurled her harshly down on the couch. The force of the push made her dizzy for a second, and as she came to her senses, her eyes focused on her assailant, who was now standing arrogantly before her.
He was a tall young man, about six-foot-four, in the middle twenties; he had a dark, Italian appearance, with long thick hair that framed his swarthy, dark-eyed face in long, sweat-dampened strands and hung down almost to his shoulders. He was extremely muscular, with a laborer's build. His tight-fitting T-shirt revealed his huge chest, and muscled biceps with a tattooed heart on the left arm. He wore tight, grimy Levi's that were almost white from many launderings; Lorna involuntarily glanced at his crotch and noted with some shock that he wore no underwear, and the thick length of his penis and his round, huge testicles bulged obscenely through the tight material. In fact it seemed to her that his massive shaft was erect. He had muscular thighs and legs, and his feet were dad in engineer boots. He grinned down at her, a cruel leer slashed across his thick, sensuous lips.
"Like what you see, babe?" he asked, noting that she had taken his body in with her eyes.
Lorna glanced away guiltily, frozen with fear. She wanted to scream, but couldn't. She felt paralyzed by this dark stranger's sudden intrusion! Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. She cringed with terror, strangely unable to move, compelled by the stranger's forbidding presence.
"Who ... Who ... are you ... ?" she stammered at last.
He stared at her so deeply she had to look down and turn away. She began to perspire slightly.
"Carlo's the name," he said finally, "Carlo Vincenti."
He saw the bar in the corner of the living room and went to it. As he began to pour himself a drink, Lorna suddenly realized that she was being held captive by some sort of madman; panicking, she ran to the phone and began frantically to dial for the operator. Carlo threw down his glass, ran to her, and ripped the phone out of her hands, slamming it down.
"None of that, sweetheart!"
She could smell liquor on his breath, apparently he had been drinking before ... drinking heavily. He grabbed her wrist and wrenched her away from the phone.
"Oooh! You're hurting me," she cried, tears coming to her eyes.
"You ain't seen nothing yet, babe," he sneered, hurling her to the couch. "Now you stay there and don't give me no trouble, or I'll rip that phone out of the wall and slam you across the mouth so hard nobody'll recognize that pretty face of yours again! Okay"
She glanced up at him, terrified! She knew instinctively she had to submit to him completely or there was no telling what he might do.
"All ... all right ... " she said, barely audible.
He glared at her coldly then went back to the bar.
"That's more like it," he said, pouring some Scotch into a shot glass. "You just do what I say and everything'll be just fine. Okay?"
He gulped down the liquor, glancing at her puzzled, anxious face.
"I'm here because of your husband," he said. "That fucking bastard!"
"What ... what do you mean?"
He reached into his back pocket and withdrew what looked like a wad of folded papers. He threw them at the couch. She picked them up, and began to look through the folded sheets. They seemed to hi poems of some kind. She glanced at the top of one of the papers: THE SUN STALLION by Carlo Vincenti.
"Are these yours?" she asked.
He turned to her, his eyes blazing. "I spent five years working on those goddam poems! Five years of my life! Do you know what the hell that means for a writer? Being so damn poor I couldn't eat half the time or pay the rent? No, I guess you wouldn't know about that, living like a fuckin' princess out here! YOU. DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE DO YOU?" he shouted at her, trembling with rage.
Lorna was shaking with terror.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she cried, weeping.
"Your husband made a fool of me!" he shouted, lurching towards her drunkenly. "A goddam fool!"
"I don't understand," she said, shrinking back on the couch, "What did he do to you?"
He grabbed the sheaf of poems from her, shaking them in her face.
"Five years I worked on these! My blood is in these poems! AND HE SENT THEM BACK TO ME WITHOUT EVEN A GODDAM NOTE! LIKE THEY WERE FILTH!"
"You mean ... he ... he wouldn't publish them?"
"As far as I know he didn't even look at them! WHO THE HELL DOES HE THINK HE IS!" He shouted, his eyes bulging, flecks of spittle appearing at the corners of his mouth, "THAT BASTARD SCREWED ME! LIKE I WAS DIRT!"
"But ... but there are other magazines ... " she stammered, "you could send them to the other ..."
"I don't want the others," he said fiercely, his eyes penetrating her face like daggers. "METROPOLITAN is the only goddam magazine worth looking at! WHO THE HELL DOES YOUR HUSBAND THINK HE IS? TELL ME! HUNH?"
He pushed his face close to hers, his heavy liquor-breath almost making her nauseous.' She wanted to scream, to run, but was powerless. He hovered over her like a tormented, hideous beast.
"Well now I'm going to give him a dose of his own medicine," he said, leering at her. "Now I'm going to show that bastard husband of yours what it feels like to have something you love treated like dirt."
With a sudden icy shock, Lorna realized that this crazed young man was going to take out his revenge on her! She was going to be the object of his hatred and rage! Frantically, she tried to get away, to run into another room, but he pulled her back brutally.
"Oh no you don't" he snarled, "you're not getting away from me that easily! And if you scream so the neighbors hear I'll knock you silly, understand? UNDERSTAND?"
Lorna felt humiliated and ashamed. She knew this brutal creature who held her wrists lightly, so tightly that they were burning, was half-mad, capable of anything. Despite her horror, she knew it would be best not to fight him; she knew she had no choice but to surrender to him, to whatever horrible fate he had in mind for her.
"I ... I ... understand" she whimpered, fighting back the tears and surging sense of revulsion.
"Good," he said, dropping her back on the 'couch. "Now, let's see what kind of fun we can have, shall we?"
With one brutal stroke, he reached down his wide, sweaty palm and tore the flimsy nightgown from her body. Lorna tried to pull up her legs, to conceal the soft golden triangle of her vagina, but he reached down and yanked her legs down.
"Oh no you don't! Don't go playing sweet little girl with me! To me, baby, you're just a fucking whore! A gutter girl! You got me? Now spread those whore legs!"
"What?" she asked timidly.
"SPREAD EM WIDE' HONEY! SO I CAN SEE YOUR ARISTOCRATIC LITTLE CUNT."
She was shocked, overcome with a wave of horror. No one had ever talked to her like that ever! She closed her eyes, as if by doing so she could wipe away the grotesque situation that confronted her, but Carlo was not to be stopped.
"I SAID OPEN 'EM!" he shouted and pulled her legs apart, revealing the trembling pink flesh of her vaginal slit, nestled in the golden coring pubic hair. "Now that's more like it," he said, gunning lewdly at her.
Lorna was humiliated now beyond anything She had ever known possible; feeling this man's eyes glaring shamelessly up between the nakedness of her open thighs was too much to bear. She felt her flesh crawl in revulsion.
Carlo could see the disgust in her face, and this made him even more enraged.
"So, I disgust you, eh? Sweet, innocent little girl doesn't like crude Carlo does she. You think I'm dirt, too, like your husband, is that it?"
"No ... no," she whimpered.
"You're lying, you goddam little bitch! YOU'RE LYING!"
A wave of uncontrollable rage swept over him, and almost before he knew what he was doing he had yanked her off the couch and forced her to the floor, turning her over on her stomach. His mind reeled, consumed by a growing mixture of hatred and lust! He was going to show these bastards they couldn't fool with him! His massive prick had already responded to his turbulent feelings and had grown stiff, pressing against the filthy, ragged dungarees he was wearing; quickly he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down below his knees. As he did, his blood engorged shaft shot completely erect, straining for release, his huge, sperm-laden balls swayed and pulsed lewdly as he stood above her like some crazed demi-god.
"I'll show you and your husband just what you're doing to me!" he shouted down at her, as she lay face down, naked and trembling on the soft carpeting of the living room floor. He knelt behind her and pulled her up by the hips with a violent movement, so that she was propped on her knees and elbows, her upturned, naked and defenseless behind her. His eyes glazed, he suddenly grabbed the soft, fleshy globes of her buttocks harshly, his long fingernails dl~1ng into the tender flesh sending shots of pain through Lorna's helplessly kneeling body.
"AAAAAAAHHH!" she screamed, feeling the sharp pain, her flesh trembling.
"That's nothing, babe, that's nothing!"
Consumed by revenge, his mind whirling with rage, he spread the smoothly rounded cheeks apart with the palm of his hands, his eyes riveting on the light, puckered little hole of her anus cringing nakedly between them. A cruel smile played across his lips.
Lorna shuddered with revulsion, as she felt the angered young man's fingers Subtly exploring the secret crevice back between her nakedly trembling buttocks; she felt mortified and ashamed. No one had ever touched her there! Now she closed her eyes tight shut and gritted her teeth she felt his finger run up and down the sensitive flesh, sending shivers through her body. His finger lingered at the puckered anal entrance, teasingly. She could feel the edge of his fingernail explore the rim. With a gasp of horror, she realized what he was about to do, and in the next second she was consumed by a stinging shaft of burning pain as Carlo, extending his finger out, wormed it mercilessly up into her tiny cringing rectal entrance.
"AAAAAAANNNGGGH!" she cried.
She had never known such pain, like a knife sending burning, searing fire into her anal passage and all the way up through her back.
"Stop, stop! Please!" she cried, sweat breaking out on her forehead.
"Not on your life!" he grunted, squirming his punishing finger even further into the warmly clinging walls. Seeing her writhe and cry out in pain only increased his desire for revenge. He forced his finger in deeper, further up the tightly resisting little crevice, widening the entry as Lorna screamed helplessly beneath him in terror and pain.
"AIAEEEEEEEE! NOOOOOOOO!"
He rammed and prodded his finger into the shuddering passage, sending unbelievable shafts of pain through Lorna's twisting, tortured body. She pulled away, desperately clutching at the carpet trying to escape the horrible humiliation of what he was doing to her, but the enraged young man grabbed her with his hand and pulled her back, holding her tightly by the shoulder. He pushed his finger in and out brutally, forcing the hot spongy walls to widen, his other hand holding her firmly, his nails digging into the cringing flesh of her shoulder.
She moaned, overcome with shame, pleading for him to stop, but he was deaf to her cries. Then suddenly he pulled his finger out of the aching, throbbing anal passage, and positioned her hips again, so that her buttocks were waving lewd and helpless in front of his heavily throbbing cock. He began to moisten his huge spear with his own saliva on the palm of his hand.
"Please ... please ... " she begged, "I'll give you anything you want! Please don't do this to me!"
"This is what I want," he said, positioning his gorged shaft against the tightly pursed little hole. "This is exactly what I want!"
With a cry of triumph he pulled back the velvety envelope of skin and revealed the charged, rubbery head.
Lorna could feel it probing it the entrance to her back passage and cringed as she realized the full horror of what was about to happen to her. Tears came to her eyes and shame swept over her body.
Carlo could feel the sensitively pulsating tip of his cock nestle at the tight anal entrance; as he knelt there behind her, his balls pulsing lewdly below, he felt he was beginning to get back some of the pride he had lost when his poems were rejected by Metropolitan. He had been crushed when he received his manuscript in the mail without so much as a note of explanation. Even the most rank beginner deserves at least a formal rejection, he 'had thought angrily, but these came back without anything! He had felt utterly humiliated! Years of struggle down the drain. But now, he thought, now I feel like a god! A god, with this beautiful blonde bitch of a love slave kneeling before me, offering her ass in sacrifice. The enraged young poet could stand the torment of waiting no longer. Without further hesitation, he levered his hips forward and the huge swollen head of his massively pulsating cock pressed against the tiny anal opening. Sweat broke out on his forehead as his long rigid shaft fought to penetrate the opening; the woman's anus was so tight that it brought pain to the sensitive head of his pressuring penis.
"You're hurting me," the young wife cried. "Stop ... please." Her entreaties changed to a whimper, then a loud whine, and finally a scream as the pressure at her cringing little anus built up agonizingly.
Carlo grunted, made a sudden thrust, and the tight elastic anal ring muscle suddenly popped over the pulsating head of his thick hard rod. Once inside the young wife's anus, he started hammering it without hesitation into her hotly clenching rectum with vicious little jerks that sent Lorna's body thrusting forward in agony.
She shrieked out as her rectal crevice was consumed with sharp, burning sensations shooting forward up her back like a series of hot lead bullets.
"AAAAAAAAAAAANNNGGGHHH!"
The thought of his inhuman perverted act filled the ravished young girl with shame and loathing. She was being humiliated worse than a prostitute, kneeling obscenely, this bestial unfeeling vile beast straddling her lewdly.
Carlo looked down in triumph at his long hard fleshiness just inside the heatedly puckering entrance to Lorna's tight little opening. He grunted again and continued to ram his hotly throbbing penis in further and further into the hot buttery depths of her rectum.
"OOOOOOOHHHHHHH, please stop! I can't stand it," she yelled, trying to pull forward to escape. But he gripped her firm flesh more tightly, digging his nails into the tender whiteness of her hips, and forced her to remain subservient before him. Thrust after painful thrust, he viciously imbedded his thick, blood engorged ramrod even deeper until finally his lust-swollen testicles slapped loudly against the smooth flesh at the back of her wildly trembling thighs.
Lorna wailed and thrashed like a wounded animal, her head thrown back as she cried in pain.
Then he began to fuck her slowly in and out of her hideously stretched anus, each sodomizing thrust widening the straining elastic channel and easing his rapacious entry.
I'll show these bastards, he thought angrily, treating me like this!
His fury rose as he thought of the heartless rejection, compounded by years of struggle and poverty. He screwed into the loudly wailing wife's rectum orifice more harshly now, increasing his tempo, his mind reeling from liquor, lust and rage. His dangling, hairy balls were slapping at the moist flesh of her vaginal slit which was aching now and strained by the violent tearing at her rectal passage. The harsh, cruel strokes came faster and faster.
"N N O O O O O O O!" she cried, "NOOOOOOOOO!"
But nothing could stop him now. Lorna felt as if she was being ripped apart by a flaming poker, torn to shreds by the hot, impacable shaft of this stranger's penis. He pumped his hips back and forth, back and forth, brutalizing the bruised walls of her backside with his hard, thick piston. He rammed and shoved, grunted and groaned, excitement surging through him as he felt her soft, warmly fleshed young body beneath him.
Lorna was consumed by pain now, racked by the terrible punishment this mad man was inflicting on her! The bruised walls of her anal passage. were burning with fiery shocks. She had never felt such pain in her life! The agony was at its height now, and she screamed with pain!
Then, strangely, just as the tortuous punishment reached its apex, Lorna involuntarily began to surrender to it ... bit by bit, a totally new feeling began to ripple through her ravished young body; out of the burning humiliation and shame came an entirely new feeling of warmth and excitement, a feeling she had never felt before in her entire life. She felt as if she was melting, as if her body was consumed by overlapping waves of pleasure that made the pain seem almost bearable ... yes, even exciting ...
"Oooooohhhhh ... " she moaned ... "Ooooooooohhhh!"
Carlo was grunting and moaning now, his muscular body tense and shaking with lust. With each pounding, brutalizing thrust he felt he was getting back some measure of his manhood; he had been sneered at many times in his life, for being poor, or for being uneducated, but now he was getting back at all of those bastard college punks who thought they had the world by the tail because they had a college degree and could have their pick of fancy jobs. They could treat a man's work as if it was trash and not think twice about it. But no more, Carlo swore, no more! He was getting back some of his own! He hadn't even met that son of a bitch Grayson. He only knew that he was the managing editor, the one who made all the decisions! He had found out the address by sweet talking Grayson's secretary and had borrowed a car to drive out in time to see the bastard's car drive down the street. He didn't even get a chance to see his face. Well, he thought, just as well! As long as I can punish his haughty bitch of a wife, he'll know exactly how I feel about him.
"UNNNNNGGGHH! UNGGGGGH!" he grunted, burying his hotly throbbing cock to the hilt in Lorna's battered anal passage with as hard and cruel a blow as he could deliver.
Beneath his powerful ramming, Lorna was experiencing some dark thing she could not understand. It was as if a hidden aspect of her personality, a wildness, a boldness, were being wrenched up in her by Carlo's brutal attack. The pain had long since faded and had mingled with the incredible rapture she felt. She moaned and felt her body begin to writhe uncontrollably, as though she were possessed by a demon.
Feeling her lush body squirming beneath him, Carlo came really alive with excitement. He increased his tempo, his swollen penis frantically ramming in and out of the naked young wife's shuddering anal passage. He could feel white-hot sperm begin to gather and surge through his throbbing balls, welling up, a churning whirlpool of hot, yearning seed. Excruciating tingles began to throb through his genitals.
Lorna too was suddenly caught up in a whirling vortex of aching excitement. She felt extraordinary velvety flashes of heated pleasure surging through her loins. Her body was trembling with passion ... the pain nearly lost in the delicious new thrills that filled her ...
"AH ... AHHH ... AHHHHHHHHH ... " Carlo groaned as he felt himself about to shoot his hotly raging load of sperm far up into her belly. He rammed her mercilessly now, like a mindless stallion fucking into a mare. His eyes burned from the sweat dripping off his forehead.
And, suddenly, he was there!
The burning, thick white cum spewed forth into Lorna's warmly clenching hole, an electrifying gush of male fluid. He was seized by convulsive spasms of pure delight as his wildly jerking penis emptied itself in a seemingly never-ending torrent.
Bob Grayson's wife could feel the boiling, surging river of lava streaming into her and seeming to spread out through her entire body; she felt as if she was melting and flying off in a million tiny pieces. She could scarcely believe how wantonly wonderful she felt! And then, as the young man's long, hard cock jerked and quivered in orgasm, she felt the exquisite blossoming of her own climax ... and she was cumming! She shoved her smoothly fleshed buttocks maniacally back against his loins as she shrieked out her release. Her own feminine juices were gushing in her vaginal passage, released by the turbulent activity in her wildly puckering rectum. All pangs of revulsion and guilt were washed away in the vast, hot ocean that surged so mightily through her writhing loins!
Carlo rammed his hot gushing spear back and forth as the never-ending rocket-load of cum spurted through the charged head and into her throbbing anal passage. He felt wildly excited, like a conquering warrior chieftan forcing this pathetic creature to submit to his cruelty. An ancient, primitive exaltation consumed him as he shot the last of his white, boiling sperm into this love slave's sacrificial anus.
"Annnnnnnnggh," he moaned, draining himself. He let the last of his aim empty into her and then pulled his rapidly deflating penis away with a sudden pop. He slumped onto the floor next to her, exhausted.
Lorna lay heaving and panting, feeling the aching pain that pervaded her stretched and shuddering passage. The ravished young wife realized that she had been through the most terrifying ordeal of her life. She had been raped! Not only raped, but sodomized by this brutal young stranger! And yet, despite the pain, despite the disgust and shame that filled her, she had also felt the dark glimmerings of a kind of forbidden excitement she had never known in her entire life, even with her husband. As she lay on the floor, drained and numb, the dull throbbing pain still present in her back regions, she wondered what those feelings had meant. Then she turned, only to see Carlo grinning at her lasciviously.
"Liked it, didn't you," he said.
Chapter Three
By the time Bob got to his office he was half an hour late. The traffic jam into the city had been much worse than he had anticipated. He walked into his office fired, hot, and upset.
"Good morning, boss!" May, his pretty, young, redheaded secretary chirped.
"I don't see what the hell's so good about it," he grumbled walking past her.
"Oh, there's coffee on your desk," she said, a little subdued, knowing her boss morning moods were frequently sour. "And Miss Kelly's been on the phone since nine trying to reach you."
"Who the hell's Miss Kelly?" He asked.
"The new free-lance copyeditor. Joan KeIly. You know, she's the girl Ralph recommended before he went to Europe. She's doing the feature articles for the November issue."
"Well, what does she want?"
"I'm not sure, but she sure sounds mad!"
That's all I need, he thought wearily, more trouble with women.
"I'll call her later," he snapped, and went into his office.
He had barely opened his container of coffee when the phone rang. He snapped on the intercom.
"Who is it, May?"
"It's Randolph, from the Art Department."
"Put him on."
There was a click and a slight buzz.
"Hello, Bob? It's Randy!"
"Good morning. What's up?"
"Those cover illustrations! You've had them on your desk for a week! Have you made a decision which one to use?"
Bob again felt the little knot of tension grow fighter. He had been poring over the two illustrations daily with no luck; he seemed unable to make a decision, completely stymied by the choice confronting him.
"No, not yet. I'll try and make my decision by this afternoon."
"Well, personally I prefer the one with the Black Power theme, but the photo of Alan Ginsberg is good too! Do you think you could let me know by one o'clock?"
Bob felt pressured and began to lose his temper.
"I don't know. I'll call you when I make the decision, all right?"
"Well, all right, but you know it's awfully late and if we don't get them to the printers before ... "
"Goddam it," Bob shouted, his anger exploding, "I know when the deadline is. You don't have to tell me! You just sit tight and I'll let you know what my decision is. Is that clear?"
There was a short silence over the phone.
"Sure thing. Just let me know." Randy said. "And relax, huh? You sound a little tense."
"Okay. You're right, I'm a little tense today."
"That's all right. Well, call me back when you've decided, all right?"
"Sure."
They both hung up.
Bob leaned back in his desk chair and tried to let the worry drain out of him. He felt he was reaching some sort of crisis point in his life, and there seemed to be no relief in sight. Wearily he took out the two illustrations and placed them before him. One showed a vivid sketch of Black Power militants mobbing a public building. The other was a close-up photo of Alan Ginsberg, the poet, smiling warmly. Either one was right for the November issue, but the ability to make a decision about them seemed to have vanished completely. He was hopelessly confused.
The intercom buzzed again. "What is it now, May?"
"It's Miss Kelly again. She wants to talk to you."
"Look, can't you put her off? Tell her I haven't come in yet."
"She'll only call back, boss. Maybe you should talk to her. It's the only way she'll stop calling. She's very persistent."
"Damn. All right," he sighed, "put her on."
There was a switching sound.
"Hello ... hello, Mr. Grayson?"
"Yes, this is he."
"This is Joan Kelly."
"I know. What is it you want, Miss Kelly?"
"It's about the articles for the November issue. I need more time. Your office gave me a Friday deadline, and I can't possibly have them finished by then."
"I'm sorry but we don't have more time."
"Why not?"
Bob's patience was beginning to wear thin. He was in no mood for another argument.
"Look, Miss Kelly, we had no deadline trouble with Ralph. The articles were always in when they were due. Now if you can't do your job in the time we give you then just say so, and we'll give it to somebody else."
"Well," she replied testily, "maybe the articles Ralph had to work on were a hell of a lot, better than the ones I've got. How can people call themselves writers when they can't even punctuate a simple sentence?"
Bob exploded.
"I'm damn sorry you don't like them, Miss Kelly! Next time we'll make sure we don't inconvenience you. Listen, baby, if you can't get the work done, then quit. I'm not going to take this crap from you or anybody else! Is that understood?"
The voice on the other end of the phone snapped back immediately.
"Mr. Grayson, who the hell do you think you're talking to?"
Completely exasperated, Bob slammed the phone down on the receiver. Damn freelancers, he thought bitterly, always griping about something or other. He sipped his coffee slowly and lit a cigarette, trying to calm himself. He knew this was going to be one hell of a day, if the events of the morning were any indication. He snapped on the intercom.
"What is it, boss?"
"Look, if Miss Kelly calls back tell her I'm out for the day. And if she wants to drop the job, tell her that's okay, too. I can't take anymore hysteria today. Is that understood?"
"Clear as a bell, Mr. Grayson."
Bob switched off the intercom and sat down. I need a vacation, he thought, I'm tired. His mind returned to the events of that morning, and he frowned. He loved Lorna, but there seemed no way to reach her. It looked like their marriage was on the rocks unless he could find some way of making real sexual contact with her. But he was completely at a loss. He knew it was affecting his work, his health, his emotional life; he knew that unless he had some relief soon he could end up at a headshrinker's like so many of his friends in the business, or even in the looney bin.
Jesus! he thought, shaking off a sudden chill. What the hell's happening to me? He took another sip of coffee, a long drag on his cigarette and turned his attention to the illustrations that lay before him on his desk.
Carlo lay nakedly sprawled on the couch, watching Bob Grayson's voluptuous young wife mixing drinks, as he had commanded; she was completely naked also, as he had forbidden her to put on clothes. He had decided she was to be his slave for the entire day; he would have total dominion over her, and humiliate her in any way he could think of. She timidly brought the glass of Scotch to him, her lushly ripe body trembling with shame, feeling utterly humiliated.
"Thanks, babe," Carlo said, taking the drink from her. "Have one yourself."
"No ... no thanks."
"I SAID HAVE A DRINK!" he roared. "YOU DO AS! SAY, UNDERSTAND?"
"Yes ... yesss ..." she said, half-conscious, completely under the spell of his brutal domination. She moved slowly to the bar, as if hypnotized, and poured herself a small glass of Scotch, mixing it with water. She timidly took a sip and shivered as it coursed down her throat and sent tingling sensations through her body; she rarely drank, and the effect of the Scotch always unbalanced her, making her slightly dizzy.
Carlo watched her arrogantly, his glowing eyes roving shamelessly up and down her voluptuous body: the sleekly firm, unblemished white skin, the full, sloping mounds of her breasts with round, pinkish aureoles circling the delicate buds of her nipples; the smooth, flat plane of her stomach; most of all he admired the. beautifully rounded, ivory orbs of her buttocks that shimmered as she moved, and her hips, so well formed, so inviting. He longed to run his tongue over the silky skin, and explore the wet, fleshy region up between her long, slender legs. Yes, he thought lewdly, she was a nice hunk of flesh. Just the sort of creature to ram his pulsing shaft into, to sink his hot prick deeply into that tight little pussy. But not right away, he thought, not right away. He had other ideas in mind. He let his head fall onto the back of the sofa, as he watched her through half-lowered eyes, the effects of the drinks making him feel raunchy and mellow. As he took in every soft, fleshy curve of her ripe body, he could feel his cock rouse itself and stiffen. A warm throbbing began to course through his genitals, and he was ready again for some excitement.
"Hey, baby," he said, in a voice deceptively soft and tender.
She looked at him, expecting some sort of mercy at last.
"Y ... yes ... ?" she asked shyly.
"How are ya feeling?"
"All ... all right, I guess ..."
"Good," he said, There was a long silence as he gazed at her with hard, dark eyes. Then he spoke. "Come here and suck my cock."
She reeled back, shocked.
"What?" she asked, scarcely believing what he was saying to her.
"I SAID SUCK MY COCK!"
He grabbed his erect, massive tool in his hand.
"NOW!"
Involuntarily she began to move to him slowly as if in a trance. Ripples of shame ran through her body, an inner voice was screaming at her, the voice of her aunt, punishing her with guilt, warning her not to do what he commanded. She felt as if she would be torn apart by the torment that raced through her mind; the last thing in the world she wanted was to touch him, yet she continued to move towards him as if he was an irresistible Svengali.
"On your knees, 'bitch!" he commanded as she stood helplessly in front of him.
Slowly, fighting back tears, she sank down on her knees, as he jutted his pelvis forward. He reached out with his huge hand and grabbed her by the hair, jerking her head down into his genital region. At first Lorna thought she would become nauseous. As if the horrible anal rape she had suffered this morning were not enough, she was being forced into something that was almost beyond her comprehension. How could this be happening to her? Why?
Suddenly he crushed her face against his thick, hot throbbing cock. She could feel it pulsing, gorged with lust. The pungent, masculine odor filled her nostrils, repelling her and yet at the same time she noted dimly, charged her with an alert awareness. She struggled to free herself, but he held her tightly by the hair and her moves only brought her pain.
"SUCK IT!" he commanded.
Lorna's mind screamed at her not to submit to this perverted act he was forcing upon her, but she knew there was no way out of it. She had to do as he ordered. She could feel the bulbous, rubbery head brushing against her lips as though it had a mind of its own and wanted - demanded - to be tasted, licked, and sucked. But she tightened her mouth in revulsion and fear, refusing to admit it entrance.
"I said suck it!" Carlo shouted, giving her a sharp twist by the hair.
"AAAAAAAGGGHHH!" she screeched as his vicious jerk seemed to wrench the hair from her head. "Please stop! I'll do anything you say."
He softened his grip. Knowing what she was about to do, a wave of shame engulfed her; sweat broke out on her forehead as she stared at the young man's huge, wildly throbbing penis before her face. Timidly, uncertain of what to do, she opened her mouth. Her eyes were filling with scalding tears of shame and humiliation, yet she had no choice but to go ahead with the vile act. She tentatively reached out and, using thumb and forefinger, pulled back the thick foreskin, fully exposing the round, pinkish head. She shuddered as she forced her lips to enclose the heated tip, as if kissing the rubbery skin. A shiver of revulsion ran through her as she took the entire hotly pulsating head into her suddenly salivating mouth and began to suck on it as he had commanded.
Carlo moaned aloud as he felt the most softness of her incredibly warm lips enclose the sensitive head of his thick penis. He loved the feeling of someone licking and sucking his cock. Tinges of lewd delight ran through his genitals as he slumped forward, still holding her by the head, and began to thrust his long hard penis in and out, deeper and harder as Grayson~s terrified young wife timidly nibbled and probed with her lips.
"Harder," he snarled, "suck it harder!"
Responding to his commands like a robot, she began to suck and pull his gorged rod with her tightly compressed lips as he moved back and forth, each time pushing the massive pole of flesh in deeper and deeper into the warm, wet interior of her mouth. She fought back a raging sense of revulsion and disgust. She couldn't imagine why this was happening to her. Why should she be the victim of this mad man? Suddenly, vivid images flashed through her mind of Bob and of the sexual disappointments they had experienced together. She had always been too frightened of sensuality, no matter how hard she tried to overcome the warnings of her aunt; despite her deep need for love, she was closed off in fear, locked in a prison of the mind. She had never met anyone like Carlo. She was used to being treated tenderly and politely, indeed Bob had always been extremely gentle with her. And yet ... she had to admit that despite her deep disgust there was a certain strange excitement to the way Carlo treated her now ... like a common whore, a slave ... a slut!
He was forcing her to do things she would never have even considered under normal circumstances. It was ugly and vile, and yet there was a wild fascination in it, too, and she could sense certain strangely exciting emotions and feelings were being tapped in her that had never been tapped before.
Suddenly, without warning, Carlo shoved his hotly throbbing penis deeply into her working mouth, nearly gagging her. This new thrust made the kneeling young wife pull away instinctively, but he tightened the grip on her hair, and she was forced to take his massive ramrod almost to the back of her throat. She was dripping with sweat now, hunched over his genitals, as she obediently sucked and licked at his warm hardness. Through her mouth she could feel the veins along the length of his cock, pulsing with each beat of his heart. As he continued to ram the hot, thick spear through the ring created by her tightly compressed lips, Lorna began to realize that tireless she resisted, the better it was for her. Little by little, she began to relax her jaw and mouth muscles, and to suck and pull at the huge, fleshy penis in rhythm to his strokes, submitting to its massive dominance ... accepting without further protest this brutal rape of her mouth. As the rubbery head moved in a warm boldness in and out of her mouth she could taste the little droplets of pre-cum on her tongue, and she felt repelled and disgusted by it; but she was helpless - she had never been more helpless in her life, kneeling before this strange young man - and she could only surrender to his lewd, perverted demands.
Carlo insinuated his hot pole slowly in and out of her wetly sucking mouth, going in deeply, then pulling out slowly, savoring the feeling of her softly warm lips clasping tightly around his hardness. He especially liked the feeling of her teeth rubbing tantalizingly against the sensitive underside of his shaft. He pushed in and out, in and out, increasing the tempo!
Man, he thought, this is really something! He glanced around at the plush, upper-middle-class furnishings, and at the naked, well-groomed young suburban wife he had forced into acts of degradation. His mind reeled back to his own poverty-stricken childhood. He had come from working-class people in the heart of Manhattan's Little Italy; he had had to struggle for everything he had ever wanted. Not being able to afford college he had educated himself, spending every spare penny on books, teaching himself how to write. He remembered how his friends in the slums had laughed at him for wanting to be a poet, but he felt somewhere deep inside of him that this was what he wanted. That he could express something in his poetry that he couldn't express in life; He had poured five years into writing The Sun Stallion. And then, he thought angrily, to have some rich college boy who had had every advantage spit on it like that! It rankled him, called up every bit of fury and hate that had been pent up since he was a. child. Maybe it was crude and wrong of him to take it out on the editor's wife sucking now so desperately at his huge cock, but as far as he was concerned he was having his just revenge. He glanced with contempt at his surroundings, and then viciously rammed his cock deeply, cruelly into Loma's mouth, causing her to choke and gag.
"Suck it, you bitch," he shouted.
Lorna gagged as he thrust his massive pole of pulsating flesh deep into her mouth, but something had begun to happen to her, even in her humiliation, something that bad begun to alter the way she felt. Involuntarily, from somewhere deep inside of her, a new feeling began rushing through her, almost transcending the humiliation. A perverse, evil sort of enjoyment was creeping through her. It was almost as if ... as if ... she could barely allow herself to think it ... but ... YES, YES, her mind cried out ... SHE ALMOST ENJOYED IT! SHE ENJOYED BEING A WHORE! A COMMON PROSTITUTE! She had been so socially rigid, so sexually frigid for so long, that this sudden vulgar intrusion by a man she would normally never associate with was opening her to entirely new realms of experience. "Experience" she could only label as base and vile, yes, but it was true that she could feel in the depth of her degradation the unfolding of a dynamic new person, a person of, wildly strange urges, of lewd feelings, a person capable of exciting and being excited. Before she knew what she was doing she placed both hands around his naked buttocks, had pulled his loins in closer to her face, and began to suck this domineering young man's cock with new abandon; she devoured his hot, fleshy tool with a mounting excitement that transcended all her earlier feelings of despair and humiliation. What had been revolting and unthinkable to her only moments ago began to fill her with a. sense of forbidden pleasure. She felt her whole body begin to palpitate, and she opened her throat wide to receive Carlo's thrusting strokes. She was no longer Lorna Grayson, she was a wild, sensual creature submerged in a sea of eroticism!
"Mmmmmmmmmm ... " she moaned, "MMMM ... "
Carlo could feel the change in the young wife's attitude. So, he thought, she is beginning to like it! He, Carlo Vincenti, had not only forced this pure little girt to perform gross acts, but she was actually beginning to enjoy it. This was a bonus he hadn't counted on, and the feeling increased his excitement and potency!
"Let's go baby! Suck my cock! Oh baby, that's it, suck it ... oh, beautiful ... beautiful!"
He began to pump his hips back and forth faster and faster, his excitement mounting as Lorna, sucking greedily at his pulsing penis, was racked and trembling in these incredible new sensations she experienced. She was lost, beyond reason, beyond morality, beyond the puritan training of her aunt! She was a sucking, licking happy whore, a slave-captive anxious to please her muscular, domineering master! As Carlo's lusty ramming increased, so did her wet sucking become hungry and devouring. She had lost complete consciousness of her identity and wanted only to consume this delicious long cock with her voraciously nibbling lips. Suddenly Carlo could feel the new sensation surging through his hotly throbbing balls. He could feel the hot male seed begin to wind its way through his aching testicles.
"AAAAANNNNGGGGH!" he cried out. "I'M CUMMING!"
The erotic tension. built up until it was becoming unbearable; he pumped and thrashed wildly, while Lorna sucked and pulled, her mind reeling and crashing from the wild accumulation of excitement. Her shamelessly aroused vaginal passage heatedly released its sweet juices as her lush young body began to shudder with sensuality, caught up in the delicious vortex of Carlo's orgasm.
"AAAAAEIEEEEEEEEEEE!" he screamed, and suddenly he shot forth a gushing stream of while thick liquid into Loma's gluttonously working mouth. As she felt the heavy spurts of hot cum burst forth from the exploding cock's head, she was revolted at first as she felt it fill her mouth and course down her throat, nearly choking her. But the consuming ecstasy she felt quickly dispelled her disgust, and she drank his hot manly essence with rapture, sucking and pulling at his cock, while the muscular young man screamed with delight from the incredible release he felt.
"O O O O O O O O O O O O OH! BABBEEEEEEEEEEEE!" he cried, feeling his white-hot load spurt out of his prick and into the deep interior of her throat. "OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Loma greedily devoured the strange liquid. Gradually she felt the last of the essence draining from the softening rod, and after what seemed like an eternity of incredible rapture, Carlo withdrew his glistening shaft from her warmly wet mouth, lay back on the couch, and sighed deeply in pleasure. Lorna gazed, at him for a moment; her eyes lingered approvingly at the huge, thick chest muscles, and the iron hardness of his virile young body. For a moment she felt a new wild surge of desire pass through her. Then, her head clearing suddenly, she became consumed by a cold wave of guilt. The terrible reality of what she had done, of the vulgar act she had performed, suddenly became vividly clear to her. With a little gasp she realized she had done something she had never in her life thought possible.
"Oh God," she thought, through her body, "What's happening to me? What's happening to me?"
Chapter Four
It was nearly 12:3O and Bob still couldn't make up his mind about the cover illustration. His inability to make a decision now began to gnaw at him and he had already smoked a full pack of cigarettes. The intercom buzzed.
"What is it?"
"Miss Kelly is here to see you."
"What?"
That damn bitch, he thought, it isn't enough to drive me nuts over the phone, now she has to do it in person!
"She seems anxious to see you, boss. What should I tell her?"
Bob sighed deeply, trying to collect himself and cool his anger. Well, he thought, there's no use fighting it! Today is going to be one long series of aggravations and the only thing to do is give in to it.
"All right," he said at last, "send her in."
He switched off the intercom and lit up yet another cigarette, steeling himself for what he was sure was going to be an unpleasant interview. He hadn't really devoted much thought to Miss Kelly, but his impressions of their phone conversation led him to expect a dumpy middle-aged harridan, with thick glasses and thicker ankles. "Just what I need today," he thought angrily, "Aunt Rose with a college degree." He swiveled his chair around and glowered threateningly at the soot-laden city landscape visible in the wide window behind his desk.
At the sound of the door to the inner office opening, he turned around abruptly, making no attempt to mask his feelings of irritation. He was caught short by the figure that met his eyes. Joan Kelly definitely, he decided, was nothing like he'd imagined her.
His first impression included a bright yellow miniskirt that looked as if she'd been poured into it. In fact the overall effect of her walk across the room on slender but well-built legs, laced to the knee in a pair of high vinyl boots, was liquid. She seemed unhurried, almost languid. His eyes moved upward, past her sleek thighs, over her firm well-fleshed hips. She wore a wide, beaded leather belt which tapered upward until it met the soft curve of a pair of very, ample breasts encased in a soft, clinging white jersey. Her arms were bare and tan, and she wasn't, he observed, wearing a brassiere.
"Mr. Grayson?" Her voice was much throatier than he noticed on the phone. "I'm Joan Kelly."
Bob's gaze met a pair of very blue eyes, which looked at him so directly that he inadvertently glanced away, noticing as he did, that her hair was a shining mass of chestnut that swirled away from her face and fell in soft ripples over her shoulders. She was, he decided, ravishingly beautiful.
"Won't you sit down," he said, indicating .a chair near the desk. Watching her slip gracefully into the chair Bob sensed an instinctive excitement course through him. Their eyes met and they held the gaze; Bob felt his skin come alive, his thighs and hips felt warm, indeed his whole muscular torso seemed to come alert in the presence of this voluptuous woman sitting before him. In fact his stirring penis had already become aware of the sensuality she had brought into the room with her, and he could feel his cock continuing to grow until it was swelling against his leg.
"I'm ... I'm sorry I snapped at you over the phone this morning," he said at last. "There's been a lot of pressure lately at the office and I guess I took it out on you."
Joan smiled warmly at him.
"Well," she said, "I lost my temper too. And I apologize Mr. Grayson."
"Please," he said, "call me Bob."
For a moment he felt a flash of anxiety pass through him. After all, he thought, I'm a married man. I shouldn't let this attraction take hold of me! It's wrong! And yet, as he remembered the endless clashes with Loma, the months of cold rejection, the deep sense of frustration that was with him constantly, he began to feel that he had every right to let his feelings toward this sensually attractive young woman flow freely. He knew he had wanted her at once! He wanted to feel his hot, throbbing spear slide deeply into her warm tightly clasping cunt. He knew it from the minute she walked into the office! Why not, he thought, take what you need wherever you find it? Why not?
The intercom buzzed and Bob flipped the switch.
"What is it, May?"
"It's one o'clock. Can I take my lunch break now?"
"Yes," he said, then added quickly, "and take your time. Take an extra half-hour if you want."
"Gee thanks, boss," the secretary gushed, "you're a doll! Bye!"
He switched off the intercom and turned again to Joan, who sat serenely before him smoking a cigarette; a trace of a seductive Mona Lisa smile played across her lips. Bob knew that by giving May a long lunch break he was already taking steps to insure his privacy with this gorgeous creature whose deep blue eye seemed to hypnotize him when their gaze. But despite any misgivings he would normally have, he knew he was somehow possessed by strange, animal instinct that seemed to be surging up inside him. He wanted her! He wanted to flick her now!
"I'll be able to deliver the manuscripts by Monday at the latest," she said, "if that's all right with you."
But Bob could scarcely hear her words; his mind had suddenly begun to reel and spin. Lorna's face seemed to loom up before him looking frail and terrified, angry inner voices seemed to hurl accusations at him. He became intensely dizzy, and leaned forward, holding his head in his hands, trying to restore balance.
"Is anything wrong," Joan asked, seeing his apparent turmoil.
"No," he said, looking up at her after a moment, "I think I've smoked too many cigarettes this morning. I just feel a little dizzy. I'm all right now."
But he could feel his dizziness turning into a splitting headache.
"I'll just take a couple of aspirins," he said, rising.
"Look," she said, "I know a wonderful neck and shoulder massage that should clear up your dizziness completely. My ex-boyfriend was a medic in Vietnam and he taught it to me. Believe me, it works much better than aspirin."
"I don't want to trouble you," he said, feeling resistant to the possibility of physical contact.
"Oh, it's no trouble," she said, getting up and moving behind him. "And it'll be my way of making up for yelling at you over the phone. Just take off your jacket and loosen your tie."
Bob took off his jacket and flung it on a couch nearby, then he loosened his tie. He decided then and there not to fight his feelings any longer.
"Now sit back in the chair," she said soothingly. "Close your eyes, relax and let me do the work."
He leaned back, eyes closed. He felt her long, tapered fingers begin to slowly massage his neck muscles in gentle rubbing motions. He felt an immediate release of tension; the lightness in his body began to ebb away.
"Oooohhh," he sighed, "that feels fantastic."
"Good," she said, and moved down the shoulders, kneading the muscles tenderly, almost seductively. "You are tense," she noted aloud as she felt the stiffness in his shoulders.
Bob felt himself sink into a dreamy, semi-conscious state as Joan's nimble fingers skillfully massaged his fatigue and anxiety away.
"I guess I am tense," he said softly, feeling himself almost drifting and floating. "But I feel a lot better now."
"Good," she said. As her hands moved over his lightened masculine flesh Joan let her mind fall back momentarily on herself ...
At twenty-eight, she had been a free-lance copyeditor and proofreader in New York since her graduation from State College in Pittsburgh. She had come from a small town nearby, in the coal-mining district. Her father was a local neer-do-well, who drank heavily; her mother was a long-suffering hypochondriac who was also known to drink more often than she should. She was an only child, and her early years were fraught with terrifying scenes of drunken rampages, of fighting against her father, of running away from home time after time. She knew from the time she was seven that her primary impulse was to get away from that dark, poverty-stricken environment. She was going to educate herself and move to the city, preferably New York, where, she felt, she might live a better kind of life. She had laboriously worked to win a scholarship to State, and then worked nights as a waitress to pay her way and finally give her enough for the long awaited move to New York City.
Joan's mind fastened on Bob Grayson as she returned to the present, her hands moving sensuously across the broad, muscular shoulders of this highly attractive man. When she had first seen him, only minutes earlier, she had been drawn to him at once; his slim, well-developed body, his thick curly brown hair, the chiseled Grecian features of his face, and the full male sensuality of his lips had attracted her immediately. In all her years of experience with editors he was definitely a rarity. Most of the men she had to deal with were crude older men, or pompous, self-confident playboys. And in the Village, where she had lived since her arrival in Manhattan, the men were rough and often egotistical artists or laborers. But this man with the warm, intelligent face, the lean athletic body, was uniquely exciting to her. Even in his business suit he seemed to exude a Solid masculinity combined with an appealing sensitivity. Despite the wedding band on his left hand, which, she knew, might mean trouble, despite any objections and reservations she usually had with getting involved with employers and married men, she found herself becoming increasingly excited as she moved her hands across his upper back, and then let her fingers tangle themselves in the dark, curly hair that set off his handsome face so beautifully. She smiled inwardly; she knew there were some who might object to her attitude, but she scoffed at the rigid moralities that most men and women lived by. She knew it made them frightened and angry! She made it a rule to take her pleasure where she found it! Her hands began to rove down across the sculptured muscular chest that felt enticing to her through the white, crisp material of his shirt. She let her finger flick lightly between the buttons of his shirt, touching the warmly naked skin beneath.
As Bob felt her hands move down across his chest, he could sense his body responding to her sensual gestures. At first he fought the feeling, but that was quickly dashed away in the first, warm, luxuriant wave of excitement that coursed through him at her sure touch. His large, pulsing rod was already stiff with lust; he could feel it straining, eager to be free of the confines of his trousers. Then suddenly, instinctively, he reached up and touched the luxurious folds of her thick, silky hair. As his heart began to beat faster and faster, he wound his fingers shamelessly through the abundant strands. It was as if he had unleashed a hidden tide of passion, for he was now overcome with the desire to crush this svelte beauty to him, to press his lips against her own.
"Joan," he heard himself whispering, "Joan ..."
A carnal need ripped through his genitals, and his body was suddenly hot - flushed with a kind of lewd sensuality.
"Oh, Bob ... "she sighed, flicking her tongue lightly into his ear and making him shudder with pleasure.
He felt her slim fingers move down the front of his shirt and delicately begin to probe at the bulging, excited hardness between his legs. Then, suddenly, he rose; an anxious feeling of resistance had suddenly returned.
"Joan, look ..."
"What's wrong," she asked, her glittering eyes gazing steadily into his, her lips parted in a warm, seductive smile. "Don't you want me?"
Bob was completely off guard. The boldness of this girl was something he had never confronted before. Most of the women he knew were either girlish, shy, and very reserved, like his wife, or cool and bitchy. But now he was face to face with a woman who did not function by the normal code of restraint and subtelty he was used to. In fact she was unlike any with a woman who did not function by the normal code of restraint and subtlety he was used to. In fact she was unlike any
"It's not that ..." he said .. "It's just that ... "
"It's just that you're married."
"Yes."
"Well," she said, softly, "I don't mind if you don't."
His heart began to pound in his chest; a light film of perspiration broke out on his forehead. The tips of his fingers began to grow cold. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She seemed to radiate sensuality and a promise of wild excitement, an excitement that Bob rarely allowed himself to experience. His body was trembling with desire, his long cock throbbed excitedly. He wanted to fuck her. Fuck her in a way he had never fucked a woman before.
"Well ... if you don't want to," she said, moving towards the door as if to go.
"Wait," he called, watching her sensuous hips swaying under the little bright yellow miniskirt. She turned to him, her eyes dancing.
"Yes?" she asked.
The deep, unspoken passion that flew between them linked them now like a winding iron chain; they began to move slowly towards each other, drawn hypnotically by the strength of their hot needs. Joan seemed to float as she moved, each step accentuating the dreamy curves of her ripely voluptuous body. They were almost touching now, and instinctively they both stopped. This was the point of no return, to go further, they knew, would start a chain reaction that neither of them could stop. Then with a groan, Bob suddenly reached out and grabbed her supple shoulders, so beautifully delineated by the white Jersey sweater. Their bodies dung together as they kissed deeply. Joan's lips felt soft and pliant against Bob's; tentatively, he let his wetly quivering tongue explore the warm sweetness of her mouth, pushing between the parted lips to flick lightly over the teeth. Joan opened her mouth fully, almost wantonly, inviting him to penetrate her as deeply as he wished. He pushed his tongue into the moist interior of her mouth, playfully duelling with her tongue, pushing almost to the back of her throat. He French-kissed her harshly, almost cruelly, liking the lewd feeling it engendered in his hungry, lust-tightened loins.
"Well ... well ... well." the girl said, puffing away and gasping for breath.
An implacable carnal excitement surged through Bob as, quickly, he moved to the door of the office and locked it. He disconnected the intercom, making sure there would be no interruptions. He wanted to lick her now, and nothing was going to stop him from taking her right there in the office. All thoughts of his wife, together with any feelings of guilt or anxiety, were swept away in the torrent of sensuality that consumed him. He walked slowly towards her, his hot eyes roving greedily over her incredibly supple body. The thought that she was almost too god-damned beautiful and seductive to be true. But yet here she was, just as eager to get laid as he! Bob swept her ripe young body into his arms and kissed her again, deeply and hungrily, his lips crushed brutally against hers.
Joan returned his kiss with equal. fervor, and held him tightly, reveling in the feeling of his lean, hard body. She tingled as his warmly wet lips began to kiss her neck, her face, while his hands caressed her shining chestnut hair. Voraciously, she plunged her little red tongue deeply between his lips and dropped her hand down between their two bodies, letting her fingers search his trousers until she felt the massively throbbing bulge of his thick rigid penis. With gentle fingers, she began to massage it skillfully, feeling the long shaft and thick, bulbous head straining with desire beneath the fabric of his trousers. Moments later, her other hand slid down and began weighing and playing with his lust-swollen testicles through his pants.
Joining the game, Bob's hands quickly tugged at the bottom of her sweater and then moved boldly up between the cloth and her soft warm flesh. He carefully caressed the area just above her shoulder blades - a spot which, he knew, was highly and erotically sensitive for all women. He felt his hot need for the girl growing even stronger as he caressed the velvety smoothness of her back. Then, he moved his hands around to cup the softly fleshed orbs of her large firm breasts.
"Mmmmmmmm ... " she sighed, as he gently massaged the resilient spheres. His fingers brushed lightly over the tips, and they stiffened even further to stand erect under his touch.
Without warning, Joan unzipped the trousers of his pants, and reached in to worm her fingers through the opening of his shorts and put her warm hands on his stiffly throbbing spear. Carefully, as though she were handling a fantastic work of art, she eased the long, heatedly pulsating cock out and expertly moved back the protective foreskin, exposing the pinkish swollen head which she began to tease with her fingers, sending shudders of wanton excitement rippling through the editor's body.
"Ooooooohhhhhh," he moaned, as she skillfully rolled the thick pulsing flesh between her fingers.
With equal adeptness, Bob slipped his hand under the girl's miniskirt and into the tight elastic crotch band of her panties. Quickly his hand found the moistly hot crevice up between her legs, and his fingers began to explore, the warm layers of flesh nestled in the curling strands of pubic hair. He traced the entire length of the wet furrow, from the quivering bud of her clitoris at the top to the softly inviting entrance of her vagina down below. He slipped the tip of his outstretched middle finger into the warm passage, gently widening the opening, moving deeper and deeper accompanied by her loud moans of excitement.
Consumed with wild desire as she felt his finger slipping into her vaginal sheath, Joan suddenly bit his earlobe sending a searing, tingling flash of pain through him. At first Bob was angered by her savagery, but he quickly realized that the pain was wildly exciting and it actually seemed to increase his hot hunger for her voluptuous young body. Feeling a new surge of lust consume him, he quickly rammed his finger to the hilt - all the way into the hotly clasping depths of her pussy.
"Ooooohhhh, God ... " she groaned, "that's just the way I like it."
In his wildest dreams, Bob had never imagined he would find a woman like this! Here was someone who didn't shrink away from brazen sexual contact, who actually craved it! She returned his advances with an ardor and passion that stimulated him beyond anything he had ever known possible. She began to twist her hips against his finger, opening her pussy as wide as possible to admit him entrance, all the while massaging and stroking his huge, iron-hard cock and balls. Bob surrendered completely to the torrid feelings that washed over him.
They kissed again, their tongues mingling shamelessly as they openly caressed each other's genitals. His mind reeling and unable to wait any longer, Bob pulled his hands free and began quickly to remove her clothes. He slipped the white jersey over her head, fully exposing the large, firmly rounded breasts. How incredible she looked, he thought, standing there in her tight miniskirt and leather belt, her naked breasts rising and falling with the tides of her passion.
Smiling at his undisguised look of admiration, Joan quickly slipped off his tie and undid his shirt, puffing it off, throwing it on the carpet next to her sweater. She ran her hands over the curling hair of his chest, and across the rippling, wavy muscles of his stomach.
"Nice ... " she said, her eyes bright with pleasure.
Slowly she unhitched her wide belt and let it drop to the floor, then slid off her boots and unzipped her miniskirt, which she lowered very ... very ... slowly. Gracefully, she stepped out of the short garment and put it too in the pile of discarded clothes. Seeing her nakedly standing there clad in only her black bikini panties, Bob suddenly found it difficult to breathe; her lush young body was sculptured perfection, while, soft, and firm. His cock, already swollen with excitement, stiffened even more, and for one wildly improbable moment he thought he would cum just from looking at her. The girl's eyes never left his face as, with a lewd smile, she slipped off her panties, exposing the little triangle of softly curling hair between her legs.
She moved towards Bob and reached out, unbuckling his belt. He stood there, trembling like a wild stallion unaccustomed to feeling human hands, as Joan removed his pants and undershorts. In a few moments, he was completely divested of clothes and she gazed admiringly at his nakedly powerful body.
"You're beautiful," she said, her voice husky with desire.
"You are too ... " he replied, his eyes roaming every lush curve, every shadowy inviting crevice of her voluptuous body.
Seeing Bob naked, he reminded the girl of an Olympic runner in pictures she had seen of ancient Greece. She could imagine him running through the country side, completely nude, his long penis and balls wildly dancing beneath him.
She moved into him, her hands greedily clasping his hard muscled body as she ran her hands over his shoulders, his hips, and thighs ... before grasping the huge, hotly pulsating shaft of flesh between his legs. She was shaking with excitement.
"Oh ... I want you," she cried. "Please? I want you to fuck me now!"
Quickly the girl squatted, then lay down full length on the floor of the office; the thick carpet, which pressed against her naked buttocks, intensified her passion, and its rich texture sent erotic shivers tingling through her body. Without hesitation, Bob knelt between her widespread legs and placed his massively throbbing cock against the warmly moistened lips of her cunt. Slowly, savoring every hot shiver of delight that ran through him, he pushed his lust-engorged penis into the heatedly pulsating vaginal slit, feeling the warmth sliding over the head of his cock and then slowly moving down his fleshy staff.
Joan closed her eyes and groaned in ecstasy. "Oooooooohhhhhhh ... you feel so good. Sooooooo Goooooooood!"
With one smooth thrust, the editor slid deeply into her, deeper, deeper, deeper up into her belly until finally the swollen cock-head brushed against the tip of her spongy cervix. Arching perfectly over her, with most of his weight on his knees and elbows, he began to stroke slowly in and out of her hotly clasping cunt, with his rock-hard cock moving snugly against the tight ensheathing walls of her pussy. God, he thought with amazement, how he loved to feel the sensitive coronal ridge of his cock-head slipping up and down her tight little cunt! He pulled out so that only the tip was concealed in the throbbing furrow, then, with a groan, be plunged in again deeply as the girl mewled and writhed beneath him in pleasure. He repeated this over and over, increasing his tempo as he went. Joan began to move her pelvis up and down in perfect rhythm with his motions, her hot vaginal walls clasping hungrily at his pumping ramrod. She felt her muscles relaxing and her pussy opening like a flowering lotus to receive his huge pole of rigid flesh, as she slowly almost as if in slow motion - wrapped her long slender legs around his naked buttocks.
Bob was experiencing an intense new kind of freedom that was carrying him to realms of sensuality he had never known before! His mind churned with a turbulence of introspection. I'm actually screwing a fabulously beautiful woman right here on the carpet in my office! God! I'd never think of doing this under any circumstances! But it feels so good! So god-damned exciting, so great, that I just don't give a shit! I'd fuck her any place! I've held back so long with Loma ... poor timid Lorna, poor frigid unhappy bitch of a wife, Lorna. I always had to be gentle with her, like a fragile doll, and always had to keep a firm hold over any deeper, wilder urges that I felt. But now, with this sexy little bitch of a Joan Kelly lying nakedly here beneath me - trying her damnest to out-fuck me - I'm a man again! He felt exultant, and he drove himself into a frenzy of sexual abandonment as he slammed his huge, heatedly throbbing cock into her hot, receptive little cunt.
"Oh, baby, I'm going to fuck you! FUCK YOU!"
"Yeeeeesssss! Do it!" she cried out in reply, "YEEEESSSSSSS!"
Every muscle in Bob's body moved with precision, as his sperm-bloated balls slapped loudly against her straining, upturned buttocks with each powerful thrust into her pussy. They were both moaning loudly, sobbing in sexual delirium, When suddenly there was a shrill ringing nose that shattered the hot vortex of throbbing excitement. It was the phone, jangling noisily.
He stopped stroking in and out of her heatedly quivering cunt and looked up toward the instrument.
"No! NO, BOB!" Joan said hoarsely, her eyes wild with excitement. "Keep going! Don't stop now! Don't stop no matter what!"
Totally revived by her blazing encouragement, he began to batter her pussy like a ramming bull. The telephone could go to hell! The magazine could go to hell! Everyone could go to hell! The only thing that mattered was fucking this hotly squirming woman, fucking her wonderfully adept pussy, and bringing them both to an explosive climax at the same time. He pumped his pelvis violently, his enormous prick driving into her with incredible force and hardness.
"Aaaaggghhh!" he cried triumphantly.
He screwed her without mercy, his hard muscular buttocks bobbing up and down, his long thick cock swollen to the bursting point, slicing into her mercilessly.
"AAAAAANNNNNGGGGGHHHHH!" Joan screamed, reveling in the brutal strokes she received. This was just how she liked it! The harder he drove into her, the more she wanted! She felt free and totally alive! It was meetings like this that gave her life meaning! She loved the feeling of his iron-hard prick tearing at her, plunging along the widening, shuddering walls of her hotly impatient pussy. She moaned with delight as he began to suck and bite her nipples, piercing her with little sparks of pleasure.
"Yeeeeesssss! OO ooOhhhhhh, Jesus, yeeeessss!" she cried.
Bob was charged to the full extent of his manhood now; he felt he was at last getting the kind of release he had been unconsciously looking for all his life. He smote her like a god of old, ramming his driving cock into her wetly pulsing vagina, that opened greedily to receive all of his gift. Abruptly, he felt his restless seed begin to surge and gather in his loins. His lust-swollen testicles, slapping at her softly fleshed anal crack, began to bulge with white hot cum, and he redoubled his efforts to bring her to climax with him.
Joan felt the change in him, and at the same time she, herself, was bathed in a new exultancy, the throbbing in her cuntal sheath seemed to increase, as rhapsodic waves of pleasure shot through her craving loins with tingles of wanton delight. She ground her naked young body up against his rigidly long shafts and cried out in pleasure as the first powerful surges of her orgasm hit her.
"AAAIIEEE ... AAAHHHH ... AHHH .." she screamed, I'M CU ... CU .. CUMMINGGG!"
Bob, too, was at the bursting point, overwhelmed with the wildly thrilling sensations shooting through his entire body. His lust-engorged penis was ready to explode with cum ... and, suddenly, the moment came and passed ... and his massively pulsating cock was spewing spurt after spurt of hot semen deep into her wetly clasping cunt.
Joan's belly was flooded with a warmly exciting wetness which spread its thrilling heat throughout her body as her long, slenderly tapered legs and pelvis thrashed wildly. Her own heated cuntal juices flowed freely as she was suddenly plunged into a turbulent ocean of joy ... consumed in an ecstatic rush of orgasm, floating on wave upon wave of pure pleasure. Closing her eyes, she imagined she was lost in a universe of pulsing whiteness, as his hot male essence spurted deeply into her vaginal cave, setting off new and even morn powerful explosions of sensuality.
Releasing himself fully, ejaculating wantonly into this excitingly voluptuous woman that he had met barely an hour ago, gave Bob an incredible sense of power and erotic freedom that he had always denied himself. He poured his thick stream of cum into her wildly milking pussy, in a manner never possible with his wife, his eyes glazed over in a lewd joy. He emptied himself triumphantly, knowing as be did so that never before had he ever delivered such fantastic release.
"Aaasaaaahhhhhh!" he groaned as the last of his manly essence drained into her. "Oooooooohhhb ..."
Joan could feel the flow of her own female juices ebbing away as, bit by bit, the turbulence of orgasm diminished. Bob slowed his pumping motion and soon stopped, his long glistening cock pulling gently out of her overflowing pussy with a soft "plopping" noise. Then he lay next to her on the luxurious carpeting, spent and exhausted, breathing heavily ... but happy.
Joan closed her eyes, savoring the sweet, warm radiance that wafted through her.
"I've got it!" Bob exclaimed, sitting up abruptly. "I know which picture to use for the cover."
"You do?" Joan asked, lazily, somewhat puzzled by what be meant.
"Yep! The Ginsberg photo. I haven't been able to make up my mind all week." He-lay back on the carpet, smiling contentedly. "Thanks. And by the way, take all the time you want with those manuscripts!"
"Who knows," she said, her eyes twinkling, "it could take months."
Chapter Five
Immediately after Carlo left late that afternoon, Lorna had resolved that she would tell Bob everything. At first she thought of calling him at the office, but she was in such a state of shock from the bizarre encounter, that she couldn't deal even with a phone call. She had tried taking a tranquilizer to calm her nerves, but nothing seemed able to stem the rush of stormy thoughts that tormented her. She was torn by guilt, deeply ashamed of what she had been forced to do, and yet there was another part of her that actually relished the experience. To her growing horror she found herself dwelling on Carlo's rough physique, and even ... yes, even desiring it, despite the fact that she knew with every fiber of her being that she had no right to such thoughts. She hoped the warm, loving arms of her husband could wipe away all this madness. She decided to tell him everything when he came home. Surely he would understand.
But as the hours ticked away, Lorna realized that Bob was not coming home at his usual time. Six o'clock slipped by, then seven, and he hadn't even called to say he would be late. It must be the traffic, she thought. She switched on the television set. The flickering images swirled to life and the light of the set cast an unearthly glow in the living room.
"Traffic tonight on the Long Island Expressway is lighter than usual, and homebound drivers will enjoy the unexpected ease of driving and by the way, for ease of driving, here's a word from your friendly Oilways dealer ...
She switched off the set angrily. She became intensely resentful of her husband, as if his lateness was a way for him to torment her even further. She inhaled deeply on her cigarette and began pacing about the smart, modern furnishings of her house wondering where he was. Then, in a flash, she thought of Carlo and a surging wave of desire passed through her; the very revival of the memory of the afternoon when she had actually touched her lips to his genitals filled her with a curious mixture of excitement and lust.
Suddenly she heard Bob's car pull into the driveway. Her body stiffened, she felt frightened and was unsure of what she would say to him Only moments before she was certain she wanted to tell him about Carlo, but now ....
Bob came in the kitchen door brusquely, hardly looking at her. He brushed past her, as if he was in a great hurry, and went into the living room, flinging his attach� case onto the couch and taking off his hat and coat, dropping them onto a chair.
"Traffic was lousy on the Expressway!" he said "Goddam truck overturned."
He turned on the TV, then went to the bar and started pouring himself a Scotch, still preoccupied with the lewd afternoon he had spent with Joan. All he could think about was the excitement, the fantastic sensuality he had known. They had spent the rest of the afternoon together, having drinks, talking; finally they parted only when Bob knew he had to get back home before Lorna suspected anything. Now, he sat with his drink in front of the television and watched the evening news show with great intensity.
Lorna stood in the archway to the living room staring at Bob as if she couldn't believe her ears; for some reason he was lying to her, she knew it! Why? Why didn't he want to tell her why he was so late? Why had he made up a lie about the overturned thick? A million angry, conflicting thoughts raced through her mind ... maybe ... maybe he's having an affair, she thought suddenly. The very idea of it loomed up in Lorna's brain with terrifying reality! He might be cheating on me! Why else would he lie?
She turned away, so she would not reveal her sudden bunt of tears to Bob. She felt ashamed, ashamed of having inwardly accused her husband of something that was probably only her imagination. She felt lonely and confused, unable to sort her thoughts clearly.
"Anything happen today?' Bob asked offhandedly, his eyes still glued to the set.
She caught her breath, not knowing what to say to him; she felt as if they had become strangers to each other. She thought of Carlo .. and the brutal way he had hurt her ... and how strangely, wickedly delicious it had felt ...
"No .." she said softly, "nothing happened. How about your day?"
"Same old stuff," he said, taking a swig of liquor. "What's on the late show tonight?"
"I'm not sure. Clark Gable, I think ..."
"Great!" He had picked up the TV listings for the week. "Yeah, in Honky Tonk. With Lana Turner. Christ, I haven't seen that one since I was a kid."
She watched him lean forward, glass in hand, almost lost in the gauzy-colored images on the screen.
"I think I'll just go to bed then ..."she said, moving into the kitchen to warm up the dinner. "I'm kind of tired."
"What about the movie?" he asked, calling from the living room.
"I've seen it before," she said, as she dipped the plastic bag of buttered peas into the boiling water.
The next morning they ate their breakfast in silence, save for the early morning news from the radio that filled the air like a kind of background music. Bob read the literary reviews in the morning Times, while Lorna checked the movie listings on the television page.
"Christ," he said at length, "some chick was mugged in Chelsea last night .. some kind of drug thing ..."
"Who was she," Lorna asked, hardly listening to him.
"Mmmm ... some kind from New Rochelle ... a young girl.
"That's terrible," she replied. Inwardly her thoughts were riveted to Carlo ... remembering his thick hairy chest, with muscles so huge she could hardly span her hands across the width of them.
"I'm late," he said, picking up his attach� case and gulping down a last swallow of coffee.
He kissed her on the cheek.
"How're you feeling?" he asked, smiling.
"Fine," she said, a little vacantly, trying to force a pleasant smile.
He went into the garage, and within a few moments she heard the car start up and move out of the driveway into the street.
She poured a fresh cup of coffee and sat down to the second cigarette of the morning. The phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hello, babe ... "
It was Carlo. Her initial impulse was to hang up, but she was frozen; deep inside she wanted to bear his voice.
"What do you want?" she asked softly.
There was a short pause. Then he replied: "I want to lick you between the legs."
Lorna gasped, at once horrified and excited by his crude remark. There was a long silence.
"Come down to my apartment," he said, finally.
"What?"
"I said come down to my pad in the Village."
"I ... I can't."
"Why not?"
Lorna summoned whatever strength she could muster to resist him.
"Because I'm a married woman. And because I don't want to see you again! Ever!" She could feel the tears coming to her eyes.
"You're lying," he said coldly. "You do want to see me again. Why not admit it? You liked it yesterday didn't you?" There was a silence.
"Well, didn't you?"
"Yes ... "Lorna whispered timidly.
"What?" he asked. "I can't hear you, babe!"
"Yes!" she hissed, "Yes ... yes ... yes!"
"Right on!" he remarked, cooly, "you're all right!"
"Carlo please, wasn't yesterday enough for you? Why do you have to go on with this?"
"Because I want to go on, do you understand? Hunh?" he snapped harshly. "Ibis is my show, and we play by my rules! All right, babe? Because otherwise I tell your husband about this little game."
More than anything else, Lorna realized now that she didn't want Bob to know what was happening. She realized she should have confessed everything last night, but now ... now it was too late.
"All right ... " she heard herself saying, "all right."
"Fine ... that's fine," he said soothingly. "I'm at 114 Christopher Street. Heart of Greenwich Village. Got that?"
"114 Christopher ... yes I know the area."
"Good. Apartment 5B. Make it noon. Heat of the day, right?"
"Y .. yes ... "she said softly.
"Good. Say, babe," he said, "you're doing just fine! Just fine!" He hung up.
Bob called Joan at her apartment almost immediately after reaching the office. His thoughts had been full of her all morning. Whatever anxiety or tension he might have felt were swept away in the intense desire to see her again, to touch her, to feel again the pounding excitement that had roared through his body the day before, releasing feelings he hadn't known were possible.
He heard her pick up the phone.
"Hello?" Her voice was husky with sleep. "Who is it?"
"It's Bob."
"Bob ... good morning. It's good to hear from you." She made an effort to rouse herself quickly out of sleep. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," he said. "How about you?"
"Mmmmmm ... "she sighed, "just heavenly, after yesterday ...
Bob felt a surge of desire rush through him. "I'm afraid I got you up," he said.
"That's all right," she replied. "It's nice to hear your voice."
His heart leapt at her words. He felt drawn more and more irresistibly to her. He wanted her, he wanted to fuck the living daylights out of her!
"I think I can get away from the office today," he said, feeling his cock beginning to stiffen inside his pants. "After about 11:00 ... I just thought ... "
"Oh, that's great ... " she said. "Come on over. I'm free the whole afternoon. We can just sort of ... well, take it easy, if you know what I mean."
"I know exactly what you mean," Bob replied, unconsciously reaching down to stroke the pulsing mound in his trousers. "What's the address?"
"l14 Christopher Street. Apartment 5A."
"Fine."
"There's no elevator, you'll have to walk up five flights."
"That's okay," he said, laughing, "I've lived in walk-ups myself I'm used to hiking."
"Then you've got your work cut out for you. See you after eleven, then?"
"Soon as I can make it."
"I'll be waiting," she whispered, then hung up.
At 11:00 Bob left the office on the pretext of having a conference with a writer at his home, and arrived at her building at exactly 11:30. After paying the cab driver, he glanced around at the street.
It had been years since he had been down to the Village; not since his early days in New York, when he was a struggling writer. It looked almost exactly the same way: the gnarled old buildings, the narrow streets. It was a strange world of artists and bohemians, of swingers and hippies. He could smell fresh baked goods being taken out of the ovens of nearby bakeries, and Italian sausages frying at snack stands. He saw wild, bearded artists, and actors and models. This bad once been his home, years ago; but now it was strange and distant to him. It seemed, too, a little foolish. He was used to the pleasant comfort of his orderly suburban life. It suited him. And yet, he also knew that there was a wilder part of him that had instinctively pulled him to the Village in his early days, and was being called up again so compellingly by Joan. He walked up the five flights and buzzed the bell at her apartment door.
She opened the door after peering through a little peephole to see who it was.
"Hi," she said, opening the door wide. "Come on in."
She was wearing tight shorts and a leather halter that barely concealed her ripe, jutting breasts. At the sight of her Bob could feel his long rod harden again with lust. He moved into her apartment, which was a large one-room studio, with a kitchen alcove. It was painted completely white with Monet, Cezanne and Picasso prints on the wall. There was a wide sofa that was used for a bed, a desk with a typewriter and papers, and. a couple of butterfly chairs. A huge furry, red rug covered most of the floor. There was incense burning, and the soft light through the orange curtains in the window gave the room a warm, exotic feeling. There were piles of books everywhere.
"I'm waiting to have shelves built," she said, seeing Bob glance at the random stacks of books. "There's millions of these damn books and I don't have anywhere to put them yet."
"I like your apartment," he said.
"Thanks. The guy next door is a writer, but he also does carpentry work and he's going to put a whole wall of shelves in for me, for free ... except for lumber and hardware."
"He sounds like a nice guy."
"Oh he is. And he's a really good poet, too. How about a drink?"
"Sure. Scotch if you have it."
"Coming right up. Just drop your stuff anywhere."
He put his attach� case on a chair, took off his jacket and loosened his lie. He turned and watched her in the kitchen alcove mixing drinks. Her skin was so light and creamy, it seemed to glow with a light of its own; her body moved in soft, rippling waves as she made the drinks. Bob's eyes roved lustily over every sensual inch of her, savoring the slim waist, the full, fleshy hips, and the long perfectly proportioned legs. He knew that in only minutes he would hold her naked body 2gainat his own, and he grew warm with anticipation.
"Here's your drink," she said, handing him a glass amply filled with Scotch and ice. As she turned back to make one for herself, Bob glanced around at the books strewn on the floor.
"Where'd you get all these?" he asked.
"Oh, I've had some from when I was a little girl. I've always loved books. When I've got extra money it always goes for new ones. I like the feeling of having them surround me. I guess it's security or something."
Bob saw random titles: Pride and Prejudice, The Kama Sutra, Farewell to Arms. Authors like Steinbeck, Dostoyevsky, Dickens and Shakespeare.
"You're a real book worm," he said.
"Kind of. But I enjoy other things too," she said, walking into the room languidly, smiling and sipping her Scotch slowly.
They gazed at each other. Bob felt somewhat embarrassed at being in her apartment. It had been years since he had been in a place like this, and although it was exciting to him, there was also a part of him that felt guilty about the situation. He thought of Lorna, and what she might think if she knew of his clandestine affair.
"What's the matter?" Joan asked, noticing the furrow of worry form on his forehead.
"Oh ... nothing ... "
"Thinking about your wife?"
"Well ... "he said. "Yes."
Joan narrowed her eyes somewhat, looking directly at him.
"Look," she said, "if you're not sure about this maybe you'd better go. This isn't easy for me either, you know."
Bob looked at her, taking in the bright blue eyes, the invitingly sensual lips, her statuesque body. A hot animal-like excitement began to surge through him once again. His cock, already stirring with desire, hardened, throbbing with need. He felt swept again by that incredible sensation that had come over him when he first saw her, an irresistibly magnetic attraction that obliterated all doubt and, worry. He moved towards her. His hand reached up and his fingers slowly caressed the perfect arch of her eyebrow, the gentle slope of her nose, the curve of her full, red lips ...
"Don't worry," he said softly, "I'm sure."
He lowered his mouth to hers. The electric touch of their lips, combined with the heady effect of the liquor, sent a thrill of forbidden excitement shuddering through both of them. Without a word they put down their drinks and embraced lightly, their bodies eagerly pressing together like two hungry animals yearning to mate. They sought each other's lips greedily and kissed with a burning intensity as their hands roamed knowledgeably over each other's bodies.
Bob could feel the firm, lushly sensual flesh beneath his hands. How warm and soft she was! How wickedly exciting it was to run his hand up and down her long, smooth back that tapered down to the rich perfection, of her hips. How silky and erotic her chestnut hair felt as he ran his hands through it, all the while kissing her with heated abandon.
Joan returned his embrace with undisguised equal enthusiasm. Last night, just before dropping off to sleep, she had hoped he would call her today. She, too, had wanted to hold him once more, and to feel his wonderfully large cock drive into her always hungry cunt again as it had the day before. She yearned to feel his tight, hard body and to squirm against him in naked abandonment.
"Oh Bob," she moaned, "you feel so damned good."
As their ardor began to mount, their eager hands started working on each other's zippers and buttons. Bob unfastened the straps of her leather halter and removed the garment to expose the sloping, ripely fleshed breasts; his eyes locked on the warmly gleaming golden flesh of her resilient orbs, their pink halo s encircling the soft aureoles around the hardening lips. Flinging the halter to the couch, his fingers moved sensuously over the quivering mounds, and Bob's excitement rose as he felt her warm softness tensing under his touch as her breath became harsher more rapid.
Joan slid his tie from his collar and tossed it lightly onto the couch. Then, one by one, she tantalizingly undid each of the buttons of his shirt, all the while kissing him teasingly on the lips, occasionally biting the lower lip. When his shirt was fully unbuttoned, she slipped it off of him and dropped it on a chair; then she let her hands slide over the hard curves of his muscular shoulders and chest. She loved the thick bulges of his forearms, and the strong shoulders felt warm and exciting to touch. She let her palms move down across his chest, reveling in the thick, curling hair, then down across the hard, rippling planes of his stomach that were so well defined. It seemed to Joan that theme wasn't an ounce of excess weight on his wiry, Adonis-like frame.
Bob moved away from her and began to unzip his trousers, at the same time Joan unhooked her shorts. They each watched with mounting excitement as more of the other's body was exposed. Joan particularly liked his strong, sinewy legs that were covered with delicate, dark hair. She felt her heart beat faster at the sight of his large, enticing cock - throbbing plainly through the confining material of his shorts.
Seeing her stripped to her flimsy bikini panties, Bob felt another wild surge of desire shoot through him. He moved to her and cupped one supplely curving mound of her buttocks, so silky to the touch with the fight panties emphasizing the sensuous texture. His other hand sought the warmly pulsing pubic mound which had dampened her crotch-band with impatient moisture. Joan wormed her fingers through the opening in the front of his shorts and tightly grasped his hotly pulsating penis at the same moment Bob slipped his hand beneath the elastic waist band of her panties and let his probing finger tease the quivering bud of her clitoris.
Joan thrilled to the feel of his generously endowed cock, so long, so powerfully erect. She ran her fingers over the round, rubbery head, and in her heated excitement could almost feel it sinking deep inside her vaginal cave. So deep that it touched the delicate cervix. The lewd thought caused the girl to begin trembling with a wild anticipation.
"Oh baby," Bob groaned as her nimble little fingers played with the hardened flesh of his cock. She moved with sensuous expertise over every part of his penis; first teasing the warm head with her fingers, then lightly grasping and stroking the thick shaft in such a manner that he groaned loudly in animal-like pleasure. She moved her hand along the entire length of his throbbing cock, awakening every long inch of that lusty member. She paused at the thick base, massaging it skillfully, and sending searing jolts of pleasure through his quivering flesh.
Bob slid his hand along the hot, wetly fleshed furrow of her cuntal slit, occasionally letting the tip of his outstretched middle finger dig deep into the palpitating pussy opening, and at other limes using thumb and forefingers to massage her clitoris again. Each time Joan shuddered with pleasure as she felt his fingers teasing the sensitive little bud. She was mad with longing now, and with eagerly trembling, hands she began to yank at his shorts. Sensing her new, urgency, Bob did the same with her panties, slowly and deliciously puffing them down over the flaring curve of her firmly fleshed buttocks and legs.
In seconds they were completely naked, their bodies bathed in the golden light from the window. It seemed to Bob in his aroused state that her voluptuous physique actually glowed. The svelte, slender form was invitingly alive as the girl moved toward him, slowly undulating as she walked, like liquid mercury She stopped in front of him, only inches away. Although they were not touching, the energy that passed between them electrified Bob's body from head to foot. With a mysterious smile she suddenly dropped to her knees and once again took his iron-hard cock in her hand, causing him to groan at the touch of her small fingers on his thick, massively throbbing penis.
She deftly pulled back the sheath of foreskin, exposing the lust swollen pinkish head, then without warning, her tongue darted from her mouth and playfully licked the one pearl-like drop of impatiently oozing semen from the tip.
At first Bob was resistant, shocked at the boldness of the girl's actions but then, as her wet, warmly ovalled lips began sucking at the head of his cock, he could only cry out in pleasure ... his resistance completely banished.
"Aaaaaahhhhh!" he moaned softly.
Now Joan crawled forward one pace, and let her softly warm lips completely enclose the pulsating head, teasingly sucking and licking; bringing his huge tool to a full, exciting life. He began to respond fully to the girl's oral lovemaking as her knowledgeable hands skillfully massaged the warm pods of his balls. Loving the musky male odor that filled her nostrils, the kneeling young woman took the entire length of his long fleshy cock into her greedily sucking mouth, letting her teeth brush lightly against the skin of the thick shaft. A lewd and shameless passion welled up in her as she felt the heated flesh pulsating deep in her mouth. She sucked and pulled at it wildly now, while her hands lightly caressed his straining buttocks and his muscular thighs.
Bob was totally consumed with excitement, waves of wanton pleasure shot through him as this beautiful creature on her knees worked her warm, tightly compressed lips up and down the long hard length of his penis. He began, almost unconsciously, to thrust his pelvis back and forth, to move his whole body in rhythm with the sensually sucking warmth that washed over him. He glanced down and watched this voluptuous and uninhibited creature eagerly sucking at his penis with complete abandon. It filled him with a sense of power ... he felt fully alive, like a superhuman creature. He was strong, potent, and shaking with lust.
"Oh yes ... "he groaned, "yes, oh yes! Baby, that's it!" surging through him. Her fingernails dug into his buttocks as she took his enormous cock as deeply as she could in her warmly pussy.
"Let me taste you, too ... "he said, his voice hoarse with a lewd hunger.
"Yes! Yes!" she moaned.
Quickly she withdrew her warm mouth from his cock, and moved quickly to the wide couch; there she lay back, obscenely spreading her legs and pushing the glistening pink blossom of her hotly eager cuntal lips up fully to receive him. He positioned himself, directly above her, his knees on either side of her head, his pendulous testicles swaying obscenely above her mouth and his face hovering just above the perfumed moistness of her pussy. The sweet feminine scent wafted up into his nostrils and his red, heatedly quivering tongue tentatively explored the curling strands that surrounded her trembling, pink slit. He began a maddening licking, a licking that moved down closer and closer to the wide-open palpitating mouth, of her cunt. Then, unable to control himself any longer, he drove his tongue into the moistly heated vaginal opening.
"Aaaaaaggggghhhh!" he heard her groan as he wetly licked and teased the quivering little nerve ending. He was tremendously excited by her animal-like, sensual reactions as she moaned, groaned, and mewled beneath him. This was something he had never experienced from his wife, and now his own sense of potency was renewed by the shameless sexuality of the woman who hungrily squirmed and thrashed beneath him. There was no resistance here, no distaste. His mouth moved down' again toward the fevered opening to her vaginal sheath and returned his tongue into the moistly pulsing pussy.
Electrified, almost screaming from the overpowering sensation of his hotly quivering tongue in her cunt, Joan undulated her body obscenely, spreading her legs wide apart and lifting her knees to give him easier entry. She felt a warm, tingling delight surge throughout her body. It was in moments like this that she felt truly alive, truly a woman! For years she had suffered the scorn of her relatives and even friends who had disparaged her for not being married and for living as a bachelor girl with lovers instead of a husband. She had tried to explain to them that she was not the marrying type, that she had a career and valued her freedom to come and go as she pleased above all else. Of course, there were times when she had to admit that she yearned for the security of a spouse, a home, and material comforts. But as long as her life style provided her with exciting moments such as this, she felt it was well worth the price she had to pay ... and well worth the scorn of her relatives and friends. In gratitude, she greedily devoured his cock and used her hands to play with his lemon sized balls swaying lewdly and scraping across her forehead.
Bob, insanely excited, plunged his tongue deeply into the warmly shuddering walls of her pussy, whirling and rotating it as he drove the young woman to unbelievable heights of wantoness. Her defenselessly open cunt was grinding up into Bob's face, crushing his mouth cruelly against the slippery wetness of her furrow, flaring open to devour his pleasure-giving tongue. At the same time her warmly wet mouth sucked at his huge, hot spear sending shivers of shameless lust surging through him. Her fingernails dug into his buttocks as she took his enormous cock as deeply as she could in her warmly sucking mouth, feeling the rubbery head brush at the back of her throat. She worked expertly on the excited genital flesh, and her tongue roved greedily over the throbbing veins that stood out along the length of the massive pole. Bob, positioned floating aloft, joyous and alive, carried along effortlessly by the bubbling torrent of her orgasm. ramming deeply into the wet, shuddering passage.
"Oooohhh ... OOOOOOOH!" Joan mewled as Bob's tongue nibbled and darted in and out, occasionally flicking over the clitoris lewdly, and then ramming back into the widening, eager hole. An entirely new feeling was beginning to sweep over her and she felt as if she were floating on a soft cloud of pure sensation. Her eager mouth clasped hungrily about Bob's thick rigidly erect penis and her lips began to move up and down 'the length of the hot pole with increasing excitement.
Bob moved his pelvis back and forth in rhythm with her sucking motions, and he crushed his face even more harshly against her wet, wide-open pussy ... jamming his tongue deeply into the pulsing canal and reveling in the aromatic warmth of her cuntal flesh against his face.
The swelling, tidal feeling that pervaded Joan now had began to increase. She felt lightheaded, as radiant hot sparks raced through her body and over her skin. Her devouring, sucking mouth combined with Bob's wildly licking tongue and her impending orgasm all had joined together in an incredible surge of throbbing, obscene excitement. Her rasping breath came faster and faster, and her body began to shudder with the building crescendo of her nearing climax.
Bob, too, could feel he was close to orgasm. His balls grew tight from an acute tingling sensation, as the thick cum began to surge forward. He increased his tonguing, wildly worming the tip of it far up into her heatedly clasping sheath. Abruptly, he was there and his body was engulfed in convulsions. His genitals, driven to unbelievable excitement by Joan's expert sucking, began to inflate with rapture, straining for release. He felt like a boiling volcano about to explode. On and on the excitement mounted until it was almost unbearable.
"AH ... All ... AAANNNNNGGGGHIIH!" he groaned against her cunt, and suddenly a thick spurt of white, hot liquid shot from his wildly jerking cock into Joan's hungry mouth. The ecstasy as he released his spurting essence was beyond anything he had ever felt! It was almost as if he were pouring a gushing river down the young woman's throat.
He redoubled his efforts, tongue fucking her madly, ramming his oral member deeper than ever into her hot little cunt.
Joan gulped the thick, warm fluid and felt it course grandly down her greedily working throat as he spurted an incredible gush of cum into her mouth. Her own feminine juices, streaming from her cuntal walls, shimmered down her sleek inner thighs, pulled forth by the rapid whirling of Bob's tongue and the suction of his hot mouth against her wetly clasping vagina. She sucked at his cock with her tightly compressed lips, her mouth draining him of every drop of cum, while her own hot essences streamed out of her vaginal entrance and spread across Bob's mouth and face like a fine sheen of oil. Joan was floating aloft, joyous and alive, carried along effortlessly by the bubbling torrent of her orgasm.
"MMMMMMNNNNNN ... "she groaned ... "Ooooohhh ... God ... "
Bob felt the last of his cum spew into her with an electrifying spurt. His passion and drive began to ebb slowly away, and as it did a relaxing coolness wafted over the relaxed muscles of his body. Feeling Joan's orgasm fade away also, he moved his mouth from her wetly quivering cunt and stretched next to her nakedly warm body on the sofa, exhausted and satisfied. He turned to her and their eyes met.
"That was the greatest," she said, sinking into the softness of the couch.
"Mmmm ... "Bob sighed in agreement.
Suddenly the harsh sound of a door-buzzer shattered the silence. Bob bolted up, looking startled.
"It's okay," Joan said, laughing pushing him back, "That's just the doorbell next door. You can hear everything through these wails. I think my neighbor Carlo has a visitor."
Chapter Six
Lorna stood before the door to Carlo's apartment trembling and afraid. She had taken the train in from Long Island, and from the minute she had gotten into a cab at Penn Station, she regretted having surrendered to Carlo's threats. She didn't like the city anymore now; it was too dirty and polluted, and since she had an aversion to Greenwich Village, she was doubly anxious. To her the Village wasn't colorful; the inhabitants seemed vulgar and brazen, like Carlo. It had always repelled her. She had never understood Bob's fascination for his former Manhattan home, and as she approached it in the cab, she felt the old dislike well up in her. She knew it was a mistake to come, and yet, curiously, she knew also that somewhere deep inside she wanted desperately to hold Carlo and to touch him ... and have him touch her!
The door suddenly swung open, and Carlo stood before her, stark naked.
My god, she thought, he doesn't even have the decency to cover himself in the hall.
"Hello, babe," he said, rubbing his hand lightly across the flat, muscled plane of his stomach. "Come on in."
His apartment was a one-room studio, like all apartments on that floor. It was sparely furnished, with a large mattress on the floor covered by an Indian print, and pillows strewn about. One wall looked like it had been painted floor to ceiling in bold colors by a drunken artist, and Lorna gazed at it curiously, somewhat disturbed by its brilliance.
"Some friends of mine did it at the last party I threw," he said, noticing her reaction to the wall. "Weird, isn't it?"
She glanced at him, saw him smiling broadly at her, then turned away, blushing. There were orange crates heaped along the walls with books and papers, piles of memorabilia and sketches.
Suddenly she felt two strong hands grab her as Carlo took her by the shoulders and crushed his lips against hers, grinding his naked pelvis into her hips. At first she was startled by the suddenness of the gesture and instinctively resisted, trying to twist out of his lightly gripping hands, but he was insistent, holding her in tight embrace, his wet tongue forcing entry between her lips. Finally she succumbed; she felt almost as if she would be smothered by him, overwhelmed by the strength of his enormous, muscular frame. Then he pulled away, gazing at her darkly, almost coldly.
"How about some wine?" he asked.
"No, thanks," she replied softly.
"Oh, come on ... after all," he said, pouring some wine into a glass, "it's going to be a long afternoon."
Lorna froze.
"I ... I have to be back before my husband comes homes ... "she stammered.
"Don't worry," he said, handing her a glass, everything's going to be fine. Just take it easy."
She turned away from him, feigning intense interest in the huge wall painting: You've got to get out of here! an inner voice screamed at her. Now, get out while you can! But she knew it was useless. No matter what she tried, Carlo was much stronger than she was and, besides, she didn't want to go! She had to stay and see if yesterday's feelings had been real; at the moment, she wasn't really sure she had experienced that wildly abandoned joy yesterday. Maybe it had been a dream. She sipped her wine slowly, trying to reconcile her feelings. Suddenly she heard sounds behind her, and turned to see Carlo going through a pile of records near an old phonograph.
"You like jazz?" he asked.
"No," she said, remembering the cacophonous, unpleasant music she had heard once or twice before.
"You're kidding," he said, turning to her, looking aghast. "Miles? Ornette Coleman?"
She shook her head.
"Oh, baby," he said, slipping a disc onto the machine, "you don't know what you been missing."
"I ... I guess I ... I haven't heard enough of it ... " she said quietly, and thought: I guess I've missed a lot of things in life.
The pounding, insistent music of the record suddenly blared into the room. Lorna reeled back; it seemed terribly loud to her. Then she realized that her vision was blurring also, and she had trouble keeping her balance.
What's wrong? she thought. What's happening to me? The feelings that swirled through her were like nothing she had ever, felt. Maybe it's the wine, she wondered, looking intently at the glass. But as she brought the glass towards her eyes to see it better she found herself becoming utterly fascinated by the deep, rich redness of the liquid.
"Oh," she exclaimed, "the wine's so beautiful!"
"Great," he said, laughing, and putting two more records onto the machine.
She felt light and tingling, as if she was a feather floating around the room.
"I ... I think the wine's going to my head," she said dreamily, hardly conscious of her unusual condition. "I feel ... I feel ... so ... so strange ..."
"Yes?" Carlo queried, drinking down a large gulp of wine himself. "Great!"
He started moving in time to the jazz music, snapping his fingers and undulating to the rhythm, his eyes half closed as if drifting on some private ecstasy of his own.
As Lorna looked at him, she gasped and drew back, for it seemed to her as if his massive, well-developed body was going through strange transformations. He began to look like a satyr from mythological ages ... his eyebrows seemed to grow pointed little tips that gave him a devilish look, his muscular body seemed to arch, ram-like, and she could almost see, in her blurry, dream-like state, little horns jutting through his long, lanky hair. As she watched him undulate lewdly before her, his eyes became like bright lamps, that beamed intense light at her, almost blinding her. She felt herself being caught up in the sensuous, urgent rhythms of the strange, staccato music. She was sinking farther and farther away from the identity she knew, and was being transported again to the other region, that other personality that she first knew yesterday during her humiliating encounter with Carlo. Now, under the influence of the wine ... she felt all her inhibitions melting away.
"Carlo ... " she said in a voice that sounded thick and slurry to her, "Carlo did you put something in the wine ... I feel so strange ... I ... I ... "
"That's all right, baby, you're going to be fine ... just fine."
His voice sounded mellow and soothing to her, she began to relax, her anxieties slowly beginning to dissolve and float away.
"Just relax," he continued, "just relax."
The record changed now to a slow, raunchy blues. Lorna felt herself able to relax into the undulating beat, to let her head drift slowly. She felt her body began to twist and move just as Carlo was doing, he felt suddenly able to move herself like she was underwater, in slow, waving movements ... she felt more graceful than she had ever felt in her life. The room seemed to glow and pulsate with light, and even Carlo was beginning to lose his dark, devilish look and instead take on the qualities of a god, his eyes promising wild, exotic rapture, infinitely desirable rather than repellent.
"Oooohhhhh," she moaned, "I feel so good. Sooo goooood!"
"Oh, baby," Carlo replied, "that makes two of us."
As he danced, insinuating his pelvis forward and back obscenely, he began to grasp his cock, already massively erect and throbbing, and manipulate it lewdly in front of her. Seeing this, Lorna was suddenly overcome with disgust. Carlo moved towards her, his eyes darkening.
"What's the matter? Can't take it? Hunh?"
She tried moving away, suddenly deeply terrified of him.
"No ... " she cried in terror, "leave me alone ... please, please!"
He grabbed at her, laughing cruelly.
"Oh no you don't," he snarled, "don't start pulling that game with me. You want me to flack you, don't you? Don't you!"
"No," she cried, but he gripped her wrist in a burning, iron-like grasp. "Yes! Yes! I do want you. Oh, Carlo, you're hurting me!"
"What do you want me to do?" he said, gripping her fighter, his face slashed with a sneer. "Say it!"
"I ... I want ... you to ... to .."
"Say it! SAY IT. I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME SAY IT"
A torrent of emotion broke loose in her brain, she felt as if she would be torn apart by the inner conflict that consumed her. In a vivid flash of images, she saw her Aunt Rose Standing over her, about to hit her, taunting her. Then she saw Bob, and the unhappy look of disappointment that crossed his face so often when they were together. Suddenly, out of the raging tide of images, the words came out of her throat as if torn loose by a violent hand.
"I WANT ... I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME! I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME! FUUUUUCCCKKK MEEEE!" The last was a Banshee scream of rebellious torment as she began tearing at her clothes ...
In the apartment next door, Bob turned to Joan. They had both heard Lorna's obscene shouts, and Joan was laughing.
"Christ," Bob said, disturbed by what he heard, "what the hell goes on in there?"
"Oh, that's just Carlo. He gets a little wild sometimes. He's probably got a new girlfriend!"
"I wish he'd turn his damn phonograph down."
"Oh, I don't mind it," Joan sighed, "I like jazz, and it's kind of sexy hearing it over there ... "
"Sexy? You think that's sexy?"
"Sure," she said, smiling at him.
"Next thing you'll tell me that what they were shouting made you feel sexy too ..."
"Well," she said, gazing at him, "to tell you the truth it did. Are you shocked?"
"Well ... maybe a little ..."
She sat up and looked directly at him.
"You know, it seems to me that you need to relax a little more, you know what I mean?"
"What are you talking about ... ?" Lorna's husband asked.
But almost before he could get the words out, Joan had begun running her hands lightly over his hard, muscular body, exciting him, making his flesh shiver with pleasure.
"I love your body," she whispered. She stroked his thighs, his hips, she gently caressed his chest, then leaned down and blew lightly into his ear.
"Mmmm ... " he sighed, "that makes me sexy ... "
"Yes?" she asked, then began kissing him, starting from his eyes all the way down his face, his chest, the flat smoothness of his stomach, and down into the curling, bristly hair of his genitals. She let her wetly parted lips play teasingly with the flesh of his huge cock, and watched as it began to stiffen and stir with desire. Her lips began to nibble lightly at the throbbing head of the penis, sending little shocks of delight through his body.
"Oooohhhhhh ... " he groaned, pleasurably, "that feels soooo niiiiccce!"
Suddenly he pulled her face up to meet has and they French-kissed with deep intensity. The feeling of their naked bodies clasped together, lying there on the sofa, sent ripples of sensuality through them. Whenever they touched there seemed to be an electrical vibration between them that made every part of their bodies feel alive 'and excited. Bob remembered feeling exactly that way in the early days with Lorna, but that had quickly faded when their difficulties with sex had begun. Now, holding this voluptuous creature in his arms, he felt those wonderfully wild vibrations coursing through every part of him. He quickly moved her so she was lying on her back and he kissed her face, her neck, then moved down to the large, firmly flushed breasts that shivered with excitement. His tongue traced .a line around the rosy aureoles, and then his lips nibbled at the hardened, tender nipples, sending shafts of pleasure through Joan.
"Oooooohhhh baby," she moaned, "that feels wonderful Ooooohhbhh!"
She instinctively reached down and began to stroke his massively hardened cock, which was pressed against her thigh. She marveled at its thickness and length, it felt so good to the touch, so warm and fleshy; her fingers teasingly glided over the exposed rubbery head, making Bob squirm and thrash above her in utter pleasure.
"Mmmmmnnnnn ... " he mewled, moving his hips back and forth, increasing the pleasure of her hand massaging his lust-engorged penis. His hungry mouth seemed to devour her round, fleshy breasts. First one, then the other. He felt lost in their soft resilience, the sweet texture of those large, pliant mounds. He felt he could stay with her like this forever, lost in a sea of undulating lustifully naked flesh. Even in his bachelor years, before he met Lorna, he had never felt as free and open as this. The girls he dated were always warm and giving at first, but as he got more intimate with them, as they began to make love, he sensed they usually became cold and reserved. Perhaps it's me, too, he thought, maybe if I were less cautious, less gentle, perhaps .... perhaps ...
Suddenly, Joan grabbed him by the hair and brought his mouth dose to her, kissing him with fiery intensity that was almost painful. At first he didn't like the forwardness of her move ... but then he realized that there was also pleasure in the feelings she called up in him, that those little painful shocks were delightful as well. This was the point when he had always felt himself begin to retreat! Not now, he thought to himself, not now! Go with it, relax, let it happen! He gave himself completely to this wanton young girl, let his body respond in a way that called up deep, animal excitement. He could feel his heart throbbing, pounding, his whole body begin to vibrate with wild, jungle excitement. He kissed her again, his tongue driving deep, deep into the warmly receptive flesh of her mouth. They parted, gasping for breath.
"Wow!" she said, "where have you been all my life!"
In the next room, with only the thin wall separating the two couples, Carlo watched, sprawled on the mattress sipping wine, as Bob's wife, Lorna, undressed slowly, as he had ordered her to do, stripping in time to the lewd, wailing music. Her face aflame in embarrassment, she lifted the loose, pink blouse up over her head. Her full, proudly jutting breasts seemed more tantalizing than ever in their little lacy, white bra. She unhooked her tight skirt, letting it drop to the floor, revealing her buttocks-hugging white bikini panties - so tight that they were indented into her vaginal crevice. She stepped out of the skirt and started to pick it up to put it away.
"Just kick it away from you," he shouted.
"But ... I just want ... "
"I said just kick it into the corner! Don't play snotty bitch with me!"
She did as he told her, and kicked the skirt in the dusty corner nearby.
"Now pump them hips, baby, like somebody was standing there throwing a wild fuck into you!"
"What ... ?" she asked, scarcely believing what he was asking her to do.
"Wiggle your ass, baby, grind them hips! Come on! Don't ask questions, just do it! DO IT!"
Standing there, in her bra and panties, feeling utterly ashamed, she began to wiggle and twist her body in a vulgar sort of fashion she would never have done before. Somehow the incredible headiness of the wine, which she felt sure was drugged, helped her in her movements, and she was able to shove her pelvis back and forth with remarkable ease.
"That's it, baby," Carlo shouted, "you're doing great."
He watched her, his mind stimulated by the strange wine, as she moved her luscious, pampered body like a performing street whore in her silky lingerie. He unconsciously reached down and began stroking his thick, throbbing prick with his hands, moistening it and exciting it with his hands as he watched the young wife dance obscenely in time to the music.
"That's it baby, that's fine! See, it's like you're my whore. My two-dollar whore!"
Lorna winced at his words, but was completely caught up now in the carnal excitement of what he was forcing onto her.
"Do you want me to fuck you, baby?" Carlo snarled, "Do you?"
"Y ... y .. yesss ... "she replied.
"Then say it. SAY IT!"
"Fuck me! FUCK ME! FUCK ME ANY WAY YOU LIKE!"
Bob was wildly aroused now. Joan was right, he thought, the sounds from the other room were exciting, and he vaguely wondered what the woman looked like who was begging to be fucked. As he heard these last cries of lust, he felt his whole body tremble with excitement, to vibrate with a yearning desire to sink his huge prick deep into the wet, mossy depths of Joan's tight little pussy. He arched over her now, ready to plunge into her; wanting to hear her beg, too. He wasn't disappointed, for she ground her hips up impatiently and groaned loudly, "Give it to me, baby. Oh .. please. Fuck me. FUCK ME!!!!"
Reaching down she tightly grasped his heatedly pulsating cock and guided it to the entrance of her cuntal passage. With one smooth thrust of his hips, he slid in like a newly christened boat going into water ... and his thrust went deep and full, up to the hilt. They were joined together now, and the electrifying wetness they felt in their genitals sent out glowing radiations to all parts of their wantonly writhing bodies.
Slowly, he began to drive in and out of her wetly clasping cunt, plunging his massive pole of hard flesh in so deeply that it bounced up against the tender tissue of the cervix, and pulled it out again until it was poised achingly just inside her quivering pussy lips. Back and forth, in and out, he created a surging, undulating rhythm that sent reverberating shudders of lewd excitement through the walls of Joan's vaginal passage.
She ran her hands greedily over his laboring body, savoring each muscular curve with delight. As she felt the round, plunging head of his cock bore deeply into her, it was as if her body were being borne aloft by a mighty, battering rocket with incredible thrust. She could feel the softness of his hairy balls slapping against the tender flesh of her anal crack, moistened now with the heated juices welling up from her shamelessly aroused cunt. She dosed her eyes, and it was as if she was lost in a white, pulsing cocoon of pure sensation. The wailing savage beat of the jazz music from the other room, the lewd cries of Carlo and his woman, and the sound of Bob's panting breath suddenly all mixed with the rising and falling tidal roar of some inner ocean ... and Joan felt the walls of her vaginal passage shuddering in delight under the exquisite blows of his hardened penis. She could smell the musky odor of his sweat mixed with his fragrant male cologne, and the combined scent sent further surges of wantoness through her.
It's even better than yesterday, she thought, better than I could ever have imagined! She congratulated herself for being open enough to allow the flirtation to grow between them, for it had certainly been worth the delicious pleasure she experienced now. She relaxed her body and opened herself as much as possible to the heaving, pounding man above her ... this beautiful, curly-haired Greek God who smote her with such brilliant, battering strokes.
"Aaaaannngngggh!" she cried, submitting totally to the radiant ecstasy that enveloped her.
Carlo rose from the mattress, driven to a 'frenzy by Lorna's lewd movements, and clasped her almost naked body to his. They were crushed together tightly, each writhing like wild savages, Carlo's massively erect cock rubbing harshly against the sleeky smooth skin of her thigh. His hand suddenly reached into the tight elastic leg-band of her little white panties and his outstretched middle finger wormed its way into the heated vaginal slit, already moist and throbbing from the sensuality of the music and dancing.
"Aaaaagggghhhh ... God!" Lorna cried from the sudden insinuation of his finger into her wetly quivering pussy. The violence of his movement caused her to pull away again, but he was insistent and shoved his finger harshly all the way to the hilt into her hotly clasping cuntal passage. He moved it up and down in time to the music, encouraging Lorna to thrust her hips to the beat as well. Despite her anxiety she felt herself become a part of, the vulgar music and the movements; excitement and desire flushed through her body, and she began to be transformed with an animal-like lust which could be alleviated only by fucking. Slender fingers instinctively grasped Carlo's huge, throbbing cock and pulled back the satiny smooth foreskin to expose the rubbery head. She wrapped both hands around the thickly pulsating pole, swollen with desire, and began pumping it for all she was worth. Carlo tore her flimsy panties off with one harsh swipe of his hand, then he turned her roughly, ripping off her bra and tossing it in the corner.
"Get down on your hands and knees," he ordered suddenly.
Stunned, hypnotized by his command, and woozy from the wine, the young wife did what he ordered, kneeling like an obedient slave on all fours. Carlo quickly knelt behind her, and guided his long throbbing penis into her wetly heated pussy lips from behind, scraping the huge pulsating head up and down the length of the cringing furrow. Then, without warning, he made one brutal thrust and his mammoth rod of hardened flesh roared into her cunt like a runaway freight train. Lorna screamed with each hot inch that bored into her.
"AAAAANNNNGGGH!"
She jerked forward from the impact of his entry and only then realized that she could see herself face to face in the full length mirror that stood in front of her. She felt utterly degraded, watching Carlo straddling her grotesquely from behind, like a pure-blooded bitch in heat being mounted by an alley mongrel. She turned away, unable to look at her own lust-contorted image any longer.
"NO!" he shouted, "WATCH! WATCH IT IN THE MIRROR!"
Tears filling her eyes, the young wife forced herself to look at the obscene act that was being forced upon her, kneeling subserviently on the floor while this debauched stranger took her like she was chattel or a common street-walker.
Carlo thrust his long hard cock back and forth inside of her inflamed, wetly tight passage, his throbbing testicles slapping at the sensitive-fleshed furrow as he moved. He, too, watched lasciviously in the mirror. He felt charged with excitement as he saw this humiliated woman cringing under the hammer blows of his battering rod. He moved fast now, fucking her harder, and harder, thrusting his powerful buttocks forward with as much strength as he could summon, and ramming into her cringing little pussy with cruel, merciless blows.
Lorna felt bruised and broken as his great pressing weight brutalized her without let up. Her head swam with the wildly abandoned, almost hypnotic, music and Carlo's animal-like grunting. She couldn't stand the sight of herself in the mirror with him heaving and sweating behind her. It was ugly and horrible, she thought, how could she ever have been drawn in to this nightmare. She felt waves of disgust overcome her ... yet, as she did, the disgust was oddly mingled with excitement, the same sense of lewd sensuality she remembered from the previous day. She felt her hips and thighs begin to relax involuntarily, and to move more in rhythm with Carlo's harsh strokes. Her tight vaginal passage began to open and become moist and hot, allowing him easier entry. She was breathing heavily now, her body beginning to glow and tingle in a lewd pleasure not to be denied. Quickly, the excitement built as her earlier pain and humiliation faded away.
"Ooooohhhhh ... . OOOOOOOOO," she moaned as a delightful rush of feeling went through her, and her wetly clasping cunt began to throb with hot pulsating surges of desire. Lorna stared lasciviously at her wanton image in the mirror. Thrilled, she pumped her hips, her pussy greedily milking his plunging penis, impatient now to increase that delicious feeling rippling outward like waves from the center of her heaving loins.
"THAT'S IT, BABEEEE!" Carlo shouted, almost maniacally, "FUCK BACK; FUCK BACK! SAY YOU WANT MY PRICK TO TEAR YOU APART! SAY IT!"
"I WANT YOUR .. YOUR PRICK TO TEAR ME APART!" Bob's young wife screamed, meaning it - meaning every lewd word of it! "TEAR ME APART! FUCK ME! YEESSS! YEESSS! YEESSS!!!"
In the next room, Bob was amazed at the potency and erotic sensation he felt as he pumped his large, hotly pulsating cock in and out of Joan's eagerly throbbing pussy. The editor was more excited than he had ever been in his life, urged on by the wanton obscenities being shouted by the woman in the apartment next door. His body moved with an ease and power that he had never known before. At his slightest whim, his body muscles responded like a perfect, well oiled machine; there was none of the physical strain he sometimes felt, especially after his marriage, and none of the hesitancy that so often had marred his sexual unions. He felt free, free to explore the ecstatic depths of his own potency. At times, he was overcome with a certain anxiety about his wife Lorna; after all, he thought, now that I've experienced this kind of sexuality with Joan, how can I ever respond to Lorna's frigidity, how will it be possible for me to resume our marriage. But these troubling thoughts were pushed aside for later study. Instead, Bob let himself be caught up in the implacable tide of lust and passion that pervaded him and made every part of his body tingle and glow. He rammed her like a stallion or a stag, his body shining with sweat, his muscles flexing and rippling as he moved in and out of her wetly palpitating pussy with long hard thrusts that brought delirious moans of pleasure from the young woman's lips.
Beneath his battering blows Joan felt herself exultant; like an Amazon queen from ancient times, transported to undreamed of heights of ecstasy by her slim-hipped lover. She twisted her body and thrashed wildly, her eyes glazed with excitement, her nostrils flared; she felt the wetly quivering walls of her vagina squeezing his thick penis each time its massive hardness came tearing headlong into her. She felt her deeper feminine juices begin to flow as a moist, aching feeling surged inexorably through her loins. It was as if man and woman had reached a new high plateau of passion, for' her entire body began to quiver and tremble as she sensed the first glimmerings of her coming orgasm.
"Ooooooohhhhh," she moaned rapturously, "OOOOOOHHHHH!"
Her moan was echoed by Bob Grayson as he, too, reached for his climax.
Lorna Grayson was totally lost now lost in a sea of thundering sensation, her kneeling body consumed by an emotion that thrilled her as nothing ever had before. Her body felt light weightless, despite the brutalizing thrusts she felt 35 Carlo's massive cock tore into her tight little cunt from his position behind her. Both bodies were thrashing wildly, totally captivated by a mad, instinctive passion older than time itself.
Carlo plowed into her with full force, his rigid penis aching now and straining for release. He grabbed her tightly about the hips, his fingers digging into her softly firm flesh, and slammed his cock into her like a demon. They were completely synchronized, two wanton gypsy creatures wildly pumping in unison, urged onward by the sensuous beat of the pagan jazz music.
Lorna was no longer conscious of anything except the excruciating delight she felt. Watching in the mirror, it seemed to her as if she was witnessing a strange hallucination, a wild, whirling explosion of obscene behavior. She looked like a bucking squirming banshee, beyond reason, beyond thought ... being dog fucked into a sweet oblivion.
Behind her, Carlo stared wildly at the erotic scene before him in the mirror and watched his wetly glistening cock moving in and out of the young wife's pussy like a straining, white piston rod. He felt triumphant at what he had forced upon the pathetic creature who knelt so subserviently in front of him like a whipped dog. He felt he was getting perfectly just revenge for the scorn that had been heaped upon his writing by her husband, and for the degradation he had suffered by that callous rejection the editor had sent. Suddenly, he felt his excitement increase! He could feel a surging, throbbing sensation in his wetly slapping balls as his cum began to gather for that hot moment of release.
Lorna, too, felt herself overcome with building waves of pleasure, tingles of ecstasy told her that the moment was nearing when she would secrete her female juices in a wildly pulsing consummation. The throbbing walls of her widely stretched vaginal canal now melted like wax under his powerful strokes and began to shudder with excitement.
In the other apartment, separated only by a thin plaster wall, both Joan and Bob heard the female's exultant cry of orgasm and felt their own pleasure about to reach the apex.
"Ohhhh ... , Ahhhhh?!!!" Bob cried as he felt the onrush of heated sperm building up to an incredible climax in his powerfully overloaded balls. "Ahh! Ahhhhh! Aaaaagggghhhh!"
And suddenly he was there! The scalding hot cum spurted out of his madly sluicing cock and rushed headlong into the tightly clasping, shimmying passage of Joan's cuntal canal.
Joan suddenly felt the thick male essence heatedly flood her loins, washing her with waves of unbelievable sensuality. It was as if she had exploded into a million airy fragments, and was soaring across an endless universe of throbbing carnal delight and bliss. Her own hot juices of release were flowing freely, washing over Bob Grayson's gushing, emptying cock as she came ... and came ... and came in a monumental orgasm that was almost frightening in its intensity.
In the other apartment Carlo could feel his warm sperm rushing headlong out of his prick and crashing like a roaring river into Lorna Grayson's steaming young loins. She, too, was feeling a wonderful oblivion stealing over her as her cuntal juices flowed in electrifying release.
Carlo's swirling, turbulent white cum entered her, and she felt consumed in a pool of rapture so deep that she was sure she would drown.
The angry young poet heaved and thrashed, emptying himself mightily into her; an enormous stream of cum rushed out of him, it seemed to go on forever. He lost consciousness of body, time, and place; there was only this extraordinarily powerful feeling in his genitals - a feeling so strong that he was sure his very soul was spewing 'out in mighty spurts from the swollen head of his penis.
Gradually, the depths of their passions drained, and Lorna lay face down panting and trembling in exhaustion on the dusty floor. Carlo pulled away quickly and threw himself on the mattress. His hot, sweating body still reverberated from the incredible intensity of the passion he had experienced.
"Man, oh man," he said, his eyes closed, "that was mighty fine fucking!"
And Lorna, hearing the obscene word, felt a sudden jolt of pride and accomplishment shoot through her weary young body ...
Chapter 7
Joan Kelly and Bob Grayson lay back on the wide sofa, drained and exhausted.
"You say the fellow next door is a writer?" Bob asked after a long silence.
"Yes, a poet. His name's Carlo Vincenti."
For some reason the name seemed to ring a bell, although Bob couldn't place where he had heard it.
"Carlo Vincenti? I've heard his name before."
"Have you published any of his work?"
"I don't think so."
"Well, then you ought to. I think he's quite talented," Joan said. She rose, walked nakedly to her desk and started to rummage through a pile of papers.
"Mmm ... I don't see it here. I did have some of his things here. Sometimes he asked me to criticize them, but I don't see them anywhere. Maybe I gave them back. Hey, I know! Why don't we go next door and meet him, maybe you'll be able to use some of his work ... "
"I don't think so," Bob protested, "after all, it might be an intrusion." He grinned, it might be fun, though, to see what that hot bitch in there with him looked like.
"An intrusion? Oh, listen, not with Carlo. He'll be delighted. Remember you're in the Village now. Things are done differently down here."
"You don't have to tell me that," Bob remarked. He thought about how different his life style was from Joan's. His beautiful, well-furnished house in the heart of Long Island suburbia. The well-tended lawns, the conventional morality, the security of the same routine day after day. How different that was from the world of swinging sex, of artists, bohemians, hippies; morality, was entirely individual here, there were no two alike anywhere. Anything went! And yet, rather than destroy her, this freewheeling way of life seemed to give Joan a bloom and vivacity that was altogether charming. Obviously all this chaos and excitement agreed with her.
"You like your life, don't you?" he asked.
"I love it," she replied without hesitation.
"But don't you ever think of getting married, of having children?"
She looked at him steadily, then turned away, sorting her thoughts.
"Yes, sometimes. But I don't think I'm the marrying kind. Of course, if the right man came along ... "
Bob thought he detected a certain falter in her voice, as if tears were welling up from inside of her.
"Maybe I shouldn't have asked you that, given our situation," he said sympathetically.
"That's okay," she said, turning to him. "Look, I'd rather not talk about it. It's been too nice a day to get into anything like this. Let's just have fun."
"Fine," Bob agreed, "what will we do?"
"Let's go visit Carlo. I'd love to get a gander at his new girl. She sounds like a real swinger."
"Anything you say."
Bob pulled on his trousers, and Joan slipped a loose shift over her head. She started for the door.
"Wait a minute," he said, "before we go ... "
He took her into his arms and kissed her warmly and deeply. They could feel the excitement begin to well up in them all over again, even though they had just made love only minutes ago.
"Oh, baby," Bob said, as they pulled apart.
"Come on," she said, breathlessly, but not very convincingly, "there's, time for that later."
She led the way out of her apartment, carefully locking up.
"Why lock up?" Bob asked, surprised. "We're only going next door?"
"This is New York!" she said, "Land of a million robberies. A girl on the next floor got robbed of practically everything she owned just because she left the door unlocked when she went to buy some cigarettes."
"Christ, how can you stand it? How can you live this way?"
"Oh, you get used to it," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "Besides, it develops character. You'd be surprised."
Although Bob understood what she was saying, inside he was secretly relieved that he didn't live in the city anymore; he remembered his secure suburban home, and for the first time in two days realized that his life there had many good features he had taken completely for granted.
Joan knocked on the door.
"Hey, don't worry," she said, noticing a look of apprehension on Bob's face. "Just stay cool and everything will be fine."
The door opened. Carlo stood just inside the door, obviously just pulling on a pair of dirty jeans; otherwise he was naked.
"Hey, Joan," he said, "nice to see you."
He picked her up in his arms and swung her around, giving her a big kiss as he set her down.
"Carlo's very affectionate," she said, laughing, winking at Bob.
The brute presence of this uninhibited man made the editor feel strangely uncomfortable. Somehow he felt inferior to him, his whole way of life now seemed rigid and cold to him~ especially in the presence of this muscular, hearty man.
"Carlo, this is Bob ... "Joan said.
"Glad to meet ya," he said, sticking out his hand.
Bob shook hands with him, noting the firmness of Carlo's handshake.
"Bob's a magazine editor," Joan said, "and I've persuaded him to have a look at some of your stuff. Do you have time?"
"Sure, sure ... " Carlo said, his eyes gleaming. "Come on in."
They moved inside. And as Carlo shut the door, the couple caught sight of Lorna, sitting on the mattress, terror in her eyes, clutching the sheet to cover her nakedness.
Bob saw her and at first couldn't believe his eyes, then suddenly he realized the reality of her presence ...
"What the ... " he cried. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Joan was dumbstruck for a minute.
"Do you know each other?" she asked.
"Know each other? ... know each other?" Bob cried, his eyes suddenly glazed, specks of spittle forming at the corners of his mouth as a surge of rage moved like a violent convulsion through his body. Turning suddenly to Carlo, who was locking the door he shouted: "YOU FUCIUNG BASTARD!"
With a mighty lunge he leapt upon Carlo and the two began struggling, wrestling. Carlo was totally surprised, but his old army training came in handy, as he expertly fended off Bob's unexpected blows and grips.
"Hey, man, what's the matter?" he asked, trying to shake off his assailant.
"Bob!" Lorna shrieked. "Stop it! STOP IT!"
At her words, Bob pulled suddenly away from Carlo and stood panting and staring wildly at his naked wife.
"What's going on here?" Carlo demanded. "What the hell's the matter with you?"
"That's my wife, you bastard! That's my wife you've been fucking!"
Carlo reeled back in mock disbelief! "No, man. I don't believe it. This hot little chick your wife? Ah, come on." He turned to Lorna. "Is this true? Is he really Robert Grayson, the famous editor?" His sarcastic tone escaped everyone except Joan.
Lorna was mortified, utterly humiliated in the presence of her husband and this strange woman.
"Y ... y ... yes ... "she stammered. "Yes."
Joan clasped her hand to her mouth to keep from crying out in a strange mixture of laughter and awe. To her it was an incredible situation, the four of them suddenly confronted like this with no preparation. Although she knew Bob was almost hysterical with rage, she couldn't help feeling that there was also a certain humor in the situation. In spite of herself, she laughed throatily.
"You find this funny?" Bob shouted at her, appalled at her unexpected reaction.
"Oh, Bob, forgive me, it's just that seeing the four of us here ... like this ... I mean, you and I, and she and Carlo ... "
Lorna suddenly realized, through her, own shame, that her husband was guilty of adulterous behavior with this brazen woman who stood before her; guilty of the same thing she had done ... and probably for less reason.
"Bob," she cried, "you mean you ... and this woman ... oh, no ... no ... What's happened to us?" She began sobbing loudly into the sheet she had clutched up to her naked breasts.
Joan felt sympathetic to the poor girl weeping on the mattress. Bob's wife had a look of naive innocence about her, and had obviously fallen into the clutches of Carlo's darker nature ... a nature that Joan knew most women were not fully prepared to cope with. And then, to suddenly be caught by her husband who was in the midst of his own clandestine affair, that was an emotional shock for any woman particularly for someone as obviously sheltered as Lorna was.
"It's okay, honey," she said sympathetically, "everything will be all right."
"Get away from me!" the young woman shrieked, as Joan moved in to comfort her. "You bitch!"
"Goddam it, shut up," Bob roared, "you've got no right to talk to her that way! You're nothing but a whore! A goddamn whore!"
Joan was angry at Bob's blind violence.
"Oh for God's sake Bob," she said angrily, "this is a difficult situation at-best, let's try to work it out. I mean, after all, we're in this together. I know it seems bizarre to you, but to Carlo and me this kind of thing can happen anytime. The best thing to do is calm down and try to patch things up the best way we can!"
"Patch things up?' What the hell are you talking about?" Bob was shouting unable to control his rage. "THERE'S NO GODDAM THING TO PATCH UP!"
The editor was crazed now, so deeply jolted by the grotesque situation he found himself in, that he hardly knew what he was doing or saying. He had even forgotten about Carlo, his eyes focused only on the two women.
"THERE'S NOTHING LEFT NOW! NOTHING! NOTHING!" he yelled.
Carlo had moved quietly into the kitchen and was sipping some wine to steady his nerves. Here in front of him, hysterical with anger, was the man he had vowed to destroy, the man on whom he vowed to vent his revenge! Now, it seemed, his plan was working far better than he could have possible arranged, for Bob Grayson was obviously completely out of control. Now, Carlo thought, now maybe he'll know what it means to have your whole life destroyed in a moment! He smiled triumphantly and watched the strange scene taking place in his apartment, almost completely forgotten by the others who were caught up in the stormy emotional confrontation.
Bob suddenly moved towards his wife as if to slap her, reeling and lurching with rage.
"Stop! BOB STOP IT!" Joan cried, alarmed at his move. He stopped and turned. Slowly Bob moved, towards her; his eyes blurring. He was so caught in his turmoil that his vision was affected and he could only see forms and colors now. He was completely confused, like a hurt and helpless child.
"Bob," she continued, noting. his lack of control, trying to soothe him, "please calm down. Everything's going to be all right!"
Bob stared at her like a madman, his pupils dilating, his nostrils flaring.
"How? HOW?" he demanded. "IT'S ALL OVER!"
Lorna spoke up softly, terrified, trying to communicate with her crazed husband.
"Oh, Bob, I know it looks terrible, but if you'll only give me a chance to explain ...
"I'LL GIVE YOU NOTHING" he screamed "I'LL GIVE YOU NOTHING" I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!"
"Oh, no!" she cried, as everything she had ever known seemed to be crumbling, her entire world swirling down the drain. "Please, darling, please ... I'm sorry. I don't want to lose you."
"Bob," Joan said soothingly, "don't be so harsh with her. Be reasonable. It's not as bad as it looks, I'm sure of it. Don't you have any pity?"
"Pity? Pity?" he mumbled, trying to clear his head.
"Yes ... you have a beautiful wife," she said, "and she obviously loves you. I know you can work things out. You just have to go through the changes, that's all, and try to make a new life for yourself. You musn't be so rigidly bound to your old morality. Remember, this is the village! Anything can happen here!"
"Yes?" Bob asked, a curious gleam coming into his eyes. "Anything, huh? Anything at all?"
Suddenly he began laughing maniacally. Joan and Lorna turned to each other, like two strangers who would normally be hostile towards each other, but who were now strangely tied by the hysterical behavior of this slim young man. It was almost as if a warmth of feeling passed between them, despite the unusualness of the situation. Bob continued laughing, his head thrown back, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling. There was a dark edge of cruelty in his tone, and both girls wondered what he would do.
"All right," he said finally, "all right. This is the village is it? Fine! FINE! Then let's let everything go down the drain, shall we? Let's let everything go! WE'LL BE SWINGERS! RIGHT? RIGHT?"
"Bob, please ... " Lorna said, trying to calm him down.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he screamed, now completely out of control. His vision had begun blurring, and all he could see were these two ravishing women in front of him.
"SWINGERS! YES!" he cried. "LET'S SEE HOW LIBERATED WE ARE, SHALL WE? LET'S HAVE A TASTE OF THE NEW MORALITY!"
Bob lurched wildly forward and grabbed his terrified wife by the arm, pulling her from the mattress and hurling her n a position close to Joan.
"KISS EACH OTHER!" he cried, like a raging animal. "KISS EACH OTHER!"
Lorna stood in the room, her head hanging down in abject humiliation, tears falling from her eyes. Here was the ultimate degradation, she thought, forced by her husband to embrace, even kiss the woman who had been his mistress! Her body shook with disgust, repelled to the core by what she was being compelled to do.
For Joan, the situation was difficult, but, not impossible. She had had wide experience in all kinds of sensuality, including a few extremely pleasant encounters with women. Her motto had always been to go along the line of least resistance, and despite Bob's wild, uncontrolled anger and the explosive quality of the situation, she thought that perhaps she could help Lorna and perhaps ease the situation. And, she thought, maybe I'll fine an added, unexpected bit of pleasure. Normally, of course, she would never think of such a thing with the wife of a current lover, but under these circumstances ... why not?
"GO ON!" he screamed at them, "GO ON!"
Joan, taking the situation calmly in hand, moved towards the frightened girl, and reached out to embrace her.
Lorna shuddered as she felt the soft feminine arms tenderly touch her and begin to caress her shoulders and back. How strange it was to feel a woman's touch on her body, how strange also to feel her naked skin against the material of this strange girl's loose, gauzy shift dress.
Joan pulled the trembling body to her and embraced her fully. Lorna stiffened and instinctively tried to pull away. She felt it was horribly wrong to have body contact with her own sex! She suddenly hated Bob for forcing her into this! Even though it was true that she had been indiscreet with Carlo, Bob had had an affair of his own! He was as guilty as she! But one look at the crazed, hysterical face was enough to tell her that the best she could do was submit to his commands! Just as she had done with Carlo. How strange, she thought, that now her husband should be treating her in the same merciless way that Carlo had done!
Joan felt an unexpected thrill of delight as she let her hands wander lightly over Lorna's nakedly trembling body. It had been quite awhile since she had held a woman, and the sensation was a delicious contrast to the hard, masculine bodies she had grown accustomed to. She savored the smoothness of the young wife's skin, the sweet fragrance of her perfume. She held her close and felt the softly supple fullness of her breasts pressing heatedly against her body.
"STRIP!" Bob commanded her, his eyes glazed with power, rage flashing through him like an electric current.
Joan swiftly slipped the loose dress over her head and dropped it in a corner. She embraced Lorna once again, and thrilled to the warmth of her body, feeling her own hard little nipples becoming erect as Lorna's ripely fleshed breasts brushed hers.
"KISS HER! KISS HER!" Bob commanded excitedly.
Lorna steeled herself for the utter humiliation of what was about to happen. She felt Joan's wetly parted lips press against hers, and despite her revulsion, she had to acknowledge that there was something strangely pleasant in the feeling as well. Involuntarily she found herself relaxing, oddly soothed by Joan's comforting embrace. Tentatively, she allowed her hands to touch Joan's body; at first a shudder of revulsion coursed through her, for she knew it was against all principles of decency to do what her husband so shamelessly insisted on. And yet, as her fingers felt the satiny skin of Joan's back and the smooth, voluptuous lines of the girl's hips, her curiosity was piqued. She had to admit there was a certain unexpected excitement in the feel of the other woman's warmly sensuous body. She shyly returned the kiss at first, pressing her lips against Joan's. Soon, however, flesh responded to flesh, and a heated tingling sensation began to ripple through her body.
"That's it," Bob hissed, "that's it. Go on. GO ON! GET WITH IT!"
Joan's hotly moist lips pulled away and sought Lorna's breasts, and she teasingly let her mouth wander over the rosy tips, licking them, biting them slightly; the tender little nipple quivered and hardened under her darting tongue. Lorna let out an involuntary cry of pleasure and pushed one shoulder forward as Joan sucked at her sensitively fleshed mound while massaging the other breast with her hand.
Bob felt his anger slowly begin to change into a perverse sense of excitement as he watched his mistress playing with his wife's innocent young body. Then, as Lorna - seeming to loose control of herself - began running her hands over Joan's firmly rounded buttocks, a vulgar sense of power pervaded him; these women were both submitting to his commands! HE WAS THE MASTER! He could feel a rush of lust surge into his loins as he watched them fondling one another, and he unconsciously reached down and began to stroke his rapidly elongating cock. The sense of potency that came over him was more than he had ever felt before, as if he had tapped a power in himself he had never allowed to open before him.
Standing in the shadows of the kitchen alcove, all but forgotten by the others, Carlo watched the bizarre scene, gulping down his potent wine. His vision was already slightly blurred by the mixture, and his mind swirled and danced with delight as he watched the lewd display of Lesbianism before him.
This is working out even better than I had planned, he thought, delighted! I've got that goddam editor doing exactly what I would have done to his wife! He felt exultant! He had triumphed beyond his wildest imaginings, and felt for the first time that his craving for revenge had been fully satisfied. Now as he watched the two beautifully naked women caressing each other, he could barely contain his excitement, and immediately felt his cock spring to life! His hand roamed down to the buttons of his ragged jeans and opened the fly to expose his huge rigidly throbbing cock. Pulling it out, he massaged it slowly, savoring the obscene spectacle and downing still more wine.
"GO ON! GO ON" Bob shouted, "FURTHER! FURTHER!"
Joan gently eased Bob's wife down onto the wide mattress. Then, she knelt before her, and gently licked the smooth, trembling planes of the girl's stomach, running hands up and down the sleek inner thighs and legs to excite her further.
"Mmmmmm ... " Lorna moaned, almost without realizing she had spoken. "Ooooooohhhh ... " Despite the repugnance of the situation, she found herself relaxing, her eyes closed; somehow, she felt calmed by the delicious tonguing she was being given. She lay back on the couch as Joan hovered over her impatiently quivering loins, wetly licking her firmly fleshed thighs before moving up teasingly into the moist mound of pubic hair.
Lorna loudly groaned in delight as she felt the forbidden thrill of Joan's hot, wet tongue on her vaginal slit, the darting, tip flicking artfully against the moistly-fleshed outer lips. Little electric-like surges of excitement immediately began to flash through her body as she felt, the hotly quivering tongue sliding up and down the wet furrow up between her legs. Joan licked and probed at the clitoris until it hardened and stood erect like a tiny penis; then she sucked at it, puffing with her eager lips and biting just enough to send wild shivers of wanton stimulation rippling throughout the young wife's writhing body.
"Aaaaaahhhh ... " Lorna sighed as she gave,herself over fully to the probing tongue. She opened her eagerly trembling legs even further and raised her feverish pussy up against the young woman's face, inviting her to ram her tormenting tongue deep into her cunt ... to go even further. But the soft spell of sensuality was abruptly shattered by Bob's voice, shouting at them.
"NO! SWING AROUND! DO IT TOGETHER!"
What does he mean, Lorna thought.
"SUCK EACH OTHER! EAT EACH OTHER'S PUSSY, NOW!"
Joan, knowing exactly what the angry editor wanted, swung her body around gently easing Lorna full back on the mattress until her own warmly throbbing cunt was directly above Bob's wife's face. Then with a moan, she bent down once again and continued to greedily lick at the wetly perfumed pussy.
Lorna reeled with shock at her husband's newest command! She had let herself be positioned, too numbed to resist, but now she couldn't go on! BOB WANTED HER TO RETURN JOAN'S TONGUEING! She was overwhelmed with revulsion, and felt she had finally reached the breaking point.
"GO! LICK IT!" Bob shouted, half-mad with rage and lust, pulling and jerking at his massively erect penis. "LICK IT! LICK IT!"
Closing her eyes, and fighting back nausea, Lorna opened her mouth and pushed out her tongue as Joan's wetly eager pussy was lowered onto her face. At first the young wife recoiled from the taste of the slightly tart, feminine wetness as her tongue delicately dabbed at the moist cuntal outer lips, but as her own sense of wanton excitement was recharged by Joan's hot tongue fucking into her vaginal passage, she began to tentatively explore the fleshy wet furrow. She shivered uncontrollably as she rimmed her tongue around the delicate strands of curling pubic hair that lined the soft, pinkly glistening cleft. Finding Joan's budding little clitoris, and brushing her tongue lightly over it, she was startled to feel it respond and harden and quiver with excitement.
"Annnnnggggghhh ... " Joan mewled as that flickering warm tongue began licking over her fevered vaginal furrow and played teasingly with her over-sensitive clitoris. She increased her own activity, hardening her tongue and plunging it deep into the succulent wet folds of Lorna's pussy, darting it in and out like a little red penis. The effect of the probing tip was to send waves of wildly ecstatic pleasure surging through the young wife's body, making her writhe in complete abandonment. She had lost all consciousness of where she was now, and responded to Joan's artful tongue-fucking by savagely ramming her own tongue deep into the girl's wetly clasping cunt.
The men watched lasciviously as the two naked females became oblivious to everything but the obscene giving and receiving in their mutual tongue-fucking of each other. Both were wildly writhing and groaning incoherently from the delirious effect each was having on the other.
"YEEEESSSS! YEEEESSSS!" Bob shouted, wild eyed, as he moved up right next to the two nakedly quivering women, his hand was clasped lightly around his massively swollen cock and he was stroking it rapidly up and down, working himself into an unthinking frenzy of lust as he watched two pinkly glistening pussys grinding against two voraciously wide-open mouths.
Carlo scarcely believing what he saw, had also begun madly stroking his own rigidly thick penis. He moved into the front room and watched the bobbing, fleshy orbs of Joan's quivering buttocks as she crushed her pussy down against the ramming, wetly curling tongue that Lorna pushed so deeply into her. It was, he thought, the most erotic goddamned thing be had seen in months ... I just may write a poem about it, he thought, and read it over and over again! Waves of jolting excitement shot through his body as he stood in grimy dungarees that had been lowered to his knees, one hand puffing wildly at his thick, heatedly pulsating cock, the other kneading his soft, throbbing balls. Quickly, never missing a stroke, he waddled to stand right next to the editor: Both men were just above the naked women, both were vigorously stroking their lust-swollen pricks.
Lorna was now completely submerged in a sea of forbidden carnal ecstasy. Like a possessed mad woman she drove her tongue deep into Joan's hot cuntal passage. She twisted her pelvis and ground her pulsing wet furrow upwards into Joan's voraciously licking mouth, her own heatedly quivering vaginal lips beginning to flower and open wider, savoring the darting, flicking activity of Joan's skillful tongue.
Joan pressed her moist mouth harshly against Lorna's wetly steaming pussy, her tongue sinking deep into the tasty pink sheath. The analytical part of her mind began to muse over the strange situation that had taken place. She wondered what the link was between all of them; why they should suddenly be brought together under this bizarre set of circumstances. She was sure it was no accident, that some incredible working of fate had bound them. She marveled at the way life worked, marveled that such a situation could happen out of all the possibilities life had to offer. It was moments of coincidence like this that gave life its meaning, she felt. She was sure there was a reason for all of it, although as yet she had no idea what that reason was. She knew there were many, particularly women, who would scorn her way of life, but Joan knew that for whatever loneliness and confusion was sometimes involved, her life was precious to her, and given another chance she would live it exactly the same way again.
With renewed delight she crushed her face greedily into Lorna's passion drenched pussy, and rammed her stiff tongue deeply into the hot cuntal passage, sending searing beams of unbelievable ecstasy through the young wife's widening vaginal walls.
Bob stood wildly stroking his penis, the massively pulsing rod hard as a cannon and ready to explode. He was crazed with lust as he watched the twisting, thrashing women devouring each other's cunts with complete abandon. He wanted to cum all over both of their naked bodies - wanted, in some inexplicable manner, to get revenge that way.
Alongside him, equally aroused, Carlo's knees were bent slightly, his pelvis pushed forward obscenely as he increased the jerking of his engorged, lust-racked penis. He was near the point of explosion, could feel the cum boiling through his shuddering prick. He planned to splash on the naked buttocks of his next door neighbor, Joan.
Lorna felt the undulating walls of her cuntal sheath begin to expand and contract with increased intensity! Hot erotic flashes began to jolt her entire body, and she prepared herself for the shuddering climax to engulf her ...
"MMMMMNNNNNNNGGGGGHHHHH!" Joan mewled, twisting lewdly above Lorna, her hotly clasping vaginal passage also inflamed with lewd excitement, her feminine liquid at the point of excruciating release. She felt as if she was sinking into a sea of velvety softness, completely consumed by a tidal wave of sweet wetness. She was cumming ... she was cumming ... SHE WAS CUMMING!
"AH ... AH ... AAAAHHHHHHH!" Bob yelled like a Comanche, as he felt the delicious crescendo of orgasm pulsating through his loins, a boiling white-hot seed nearing the point of release. "AAAAGGGGHHH!" he cried, pumping wildly at his suddenly expanding cock; and then, with a groan, the jet of steaming cum spurted forth and he screamed in anguished joy as he saw it splattering heatedly on his wife's naked breasts and face.
As if his sudden release had a magical effect on the others, the room became a shuddering, shaking sea of orgasm. Joan and Lorna felt themselves transported in an incredible, whirling vortex of delight; wave upon wave of excruciating pleasure consumed them as their madly licking tongues tasted the steaming, feminine fluid cascading down the cuntal sheath and spreading like a satiny sheen across their voracious mouths, lips and tongues ...
"UH ... UH ... UUNNNNGGGHHHH!" Carlo groaned as he shot a fountain of male seed out of his bursting penis! It gushed out in explosive spurts from his lewd position and splashed against Joan's nakedly writhing buttocks to flow in a shining white stream down over the rounded flesh and onto the backs of her whitely firm thighs.
Bob cried aloud again, exulting in his grunting, powerful release, the turbulently hot cum spewing out of his cock in explosive rushes and splattering now on both of the women. Then with a loud sigh, he relaxed as one last spurt shot through the air and landed on Joan's naked shoulder where it clung to her like a glistening pearl.
Moaning, the women felt their excitement begin to ebb, the warm ecstasy draining away in soft, lapping waves. Soon, satisfied and exhausted. Joan lay down next to Lorna on the mattress.
Lorna closed her eyes, sinking into the softness below her, her senses still reeling from the wild excitement of all that had gone before, her taste buds lingering over the musky aroma of Joan's cunt.
After puffing up his dungarees and fastening a couple of the buttons, Carlo went into the kitchen and came back carrying the wine bottle, holding it aloft.
"Now that's out of our systems," he said, smiling broadly and in genuine warmth for the first time since Lorna had known him, "how about a drink everyone?"
Chapter 8
Carlo surveyed the scene in his studio apartment. The two girls were lying on the couch, exhausted, and a dazed and uncertain Bob had sprawled on a pillow against the opposite wall.
"I'll take a drink," Joan said.
Carlo walked over and handed her a glass filled with the red wine. Hearing no response from the others he assumed they didn't want wine, and took a sip himself.
The room was silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator, and gushes of water draining through the pipes in the walls. They all had leached the unexpected crux of a difficult situation, and no one knew quite what to say.
Lorna searched Bob's face for some sign of how he was feeling, but he had closed his eyes and shut himself off from the world. She felt the old feeling of humiliation wash over her. How could such a thing have happened to her, she thought, how? Only two days ago life went on as usual: shopping, cleaning, cooking ... and now, she was caught in an emotional hurricane of proportions she hadn't known before, except perhaps for her childhood encounters with Aunt Rose. She glanced at Carlo, who seemed to be wrapped in his own thoughts. This brute of a man had forced her into vile acts she had never dreamed possible; yet, despite the disgust she felt, she also instinctively understood that she liked the vital, exciting thing that had happened to her, as if, by some incredible whim of fate, she had been forced to face what she would normally never confront. She had been brutalized sexually, yet at the same time opened to a new depth of feeling in herself she hadn't known existed.
"I'll ... I'll have some wine," she said timidly. Smiling at her, Carlo handed her a glass full of the red liquid.
"Thank you ... " she sat upright on the mattress, gazing at her husband, unmindful of her nakedness even feeling proud of it.
Bob felt utterly confused. After the turbulence of the violent scene he had caused, he felt embarrassed and foolish. He couldn't imagine how he had been caught up in this nightmare, or how all four of them had suddenly been caught together in a whirlpool of sex and conflict. Suddenly, he remembered the well-built, rough young man whose apartment he was in, the man who had cuckolded him and triggered his emotional outrage. He opened his eyes and stared at Carlo. Their eyes caught.
"I want to talk to you," Bob said to him, darkly.
"Fine, man," he replied, "what is it?"
"How did you ... you and my wife ... how did you meet?"
Carlo laughed. So he thought, the truth is about to come out.
"Through you," he said.
"What?" Bob was completely confused now. "What the hell are you talking about? I've never met you before."
Carlo's eyes narrowed, he felt some of the bitterness coming back now. He reached around into the back pocket of his dungarees and withdrew the folded manuscript of The Sun Stallion. He hurled it at Bob's feet vehemently.
"There! Recognize that?"
Bob picked up the folded papers and opened them slowly. It seemed to be a literary manuscript ... poems of some kind. He glanced at the title: The Sun Stallion. That title suddenly rang the big bell, just as Carlo's name was now familiar. Smiling strangely, the edits held up the manuscript without looking at it and began reciting:
"I AM A STALLION BORN OF THE SUN BATHED BY THE MOON ...
"I know this work," he said quietly.
"You're fuckin' right you do," Carlo shouted angrily. I sent it to you months ago to see if you wanted to publish it in your goddamn magazine." The poet was almost ranting now, "And you didn't have the guts to send a note back with it! I've put five years of my life into that, man, FIVE YEARS! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS? DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO STARVE HALF TO DEATH BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T HAVE MONEY?"
Suddenly Bob was infuriated.
"Yeah, I know what it means," he snapped, "I know goddamn well what it means. I was a writer, too. I lived in the fucking village and didn't have a dime to my name for more than five years. You're not the only man that's been poor, you know?"
Carlo was taken aback.
"You? ... "he asked, "you a writer?"
"Yes," Bob said, "but I wasn't good at it and 1 gave it up, that's all."
"Jesus," Carlo said amazed, "I thought you were some college dude. Well, you never know." He shrugged.
Bob rose and moved threateningly towards him. "Now you tell me one thing, you son of a bitch;" he said, through clenched teeth, "how did you meet my wife?"
"Take it easy, man," Carlo said, trying to calm him. "When I got that manuscript back in the mail after months of waiting, without a goddamn note I lost my cool. I completely blew my stack. I went out to your house and wanted to kill you. But I didn't. Instead I took it out on your wife. I wanted to treat her the way you treated my poems!"
"Why, for god's sake?" Bob shouted. "WE'RE GOING TO PUBLISH THESE IN THE DECEMBER ISSUE!"
Carlo reeled back, completely shocked.
"What? ... you're going to ... to what?"
"Publish them. I remember it now clearly. This is the most brilliant work we've seen in years, everybody said so! We sent out a letter telling you that, and that we were going to mail the original manuscript back as soon as we zeroxed our own copy."
"I didn't get a letter ... "
"You didn't?"
"I don't understand." Bob thought for a moment, and then spoke up. "Can I use your phone a minute?"
"Sure."
All eyes were on Bob as he dialed the phone. Lorna, Joan and Carl all wondered what was going to happen next.
"Hello, May?"
"Yeah, boss?"
"Listen, you know that letter 1 asked you to send out to Carlo Vincenti, the poet?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you send it? I've just been in touch with him and he says he doesn't know anything about our plans to publish his work."
"Let me check. Hold the phone a minute."
Bob turned to the others. "She's checking the files."
After a moment May came back to the phone. "Boss ... someone made a boo-boo. The letter was typed all right, but instead of sending it, it was filed. "Are we in trouble?"
The editor didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Finally he laughed. "No, I think it's okay."
"Shall I send it out now?"
"No, I'm with the author now, I'll tell him myself."
He hung up the phone and turned to Carlo.
"The Sun Stallion is going to be published in December. We're devoting the entire issue to it. And if you'd received my letter, you'd know that Random House is interested in putting it out in hardcover, and later in paperback for their college series. It will make you a nice pile of money."
For once, Carlo was completely at a loss for words.
"I ... I don't know what to ... to say ... " he stammered. "I'm sorry about what's happened ... Christ, if I'd only known ... I never would have done anything like this." He turned to Lorna. "Gee, babe, it looks as if I owe you an apology, too."
Lorna stared at him for a long time before she felt the corners of her mouth turning up in a smile. Despite what she'd been through she felt a certain tenderness towards Carlo. For all his brutality and vulgarity, there was something good and fine about him, she thought, and she didn't necessarily mean that wonderful penis of his-although that was a part of it.
"That's all right," she said. "We all make mistakes. I've made quite a few myself."
She glanced at her husband who had begun staring down at her naked breasts. Saucily, she lifted her right shoulder a silent little offering of warmly ripe flesh. She felt brazenly bold, alive for the first time in her life.
"Well," said Joan, suddenly making her presence felt, "this has been an absolutely amazing day! It's remarkable how fate works, isn't it?"
"Fate?" asked Carlo. "How do you mean?"
"Oh, just that out of all the possibilities in life, this happened to all of us out of the blue, because of a simple little mistake. And I'm just amazed by it all."
"Hell," Carlo laughed, "you're amazed by everything. I think that's why I've always liked you."
"Liked me," Joan said surprised, "I thought the only thing you ever thought about me was that I was handy to borrow sugar from when you ran out."
"Well, that too," he said, winking. "How about some coffee?"
A fresh cup of coffee seemed like the perfect idea to everybody.
"I'll help you make it," Joan volunteered. And the two of them went off to the kitchen alcove. Bob and Lorna suddenly found themselves alone, and each grew uncomfortable. After the turmoil of what they had been through, neither of them knew what to say or how to re-establish lines of communication that had been slowly severed for the past year and now seemed completely demolished. Bob sat down quietly next to her naked body on the mattress.
He turned to her. "Hi," he said.
"Hi," she replied, smiling wanly.
"I guess ... I guess you've been through quite a bit, huh?"
"Yes ... " she said softly, then added, " ... but it wasn't all that bad. He taught me something about myself ... " She trailed off, not knowing the right words.
Bob took her hand and held it tightly. "Look ... I'm sorry I flew off the handle like that .. I don't know what came over me. I think I must have lost my mind ...
"I don't blame you, darling. It's a terrible situation to be in. I think I would have done exactly the same if I'd been in your place."
"You think so?" he asked, feeling a surge of warmth pass through his heart towards her.
"Yes ... "
Slowly she reached out to take his other hand and placed it against her warmly fleshed breast.
"Do you think there's a chance for us now?" he asked.
"I think so," she said ... "Oh yes, I think so ... because ... because ... " She took a deep breath, then plunged in, knowing it might hurt him. " ... because Carlo exorcised a lot of devils in me I never knew about my body before. It wasn't your fault ... no one's really, not even Aunt Rose's. I'm a woman now, darling. A woman ... "
In the kitchen alcove Joan and Carlo were putting the coffee on to boil.
"There," Joan said. "It should be ready in five minutes."
"Great," he said.
Their eyes caught, and for the first time in two years they had been living next to each other they held the gaze. Carlo had never been interested in her before. She had always seemed like a cold, efficient business-bitch type. But seeing her making love so freely to Lorna, seeing the fullness of her voluptuously naked body, he was drawn to her for the first time in a way he never thought would be possible.
Joan had always found Carlo talented but too self-centered, too egotistical to ever consider as a lover. But the experience they shared that afternoon made her realize that there was another side to him that she had never seen, an exciting combination of brutalness - which she liked - and a boyish kind of shyness that he had always kept hidden behind his crude exterior. Suddenly she felt an overwhelming urge to hold his hard, muscular body, to feel his thick sensual lips crushed wetly against hers ...
As if Carlo had been thinking exactly the same thoughts, he suddenly took her in his arms and pulled her naked body to him. Impulsively they kissed deeply, as Joan ran her hands over the sculptured lines of his broad back, savoring the hardness. She reached down and felt the rock-hard firmness of his buttocks under the tight denim of his jeans. She kneaded it with her hands, feeling a hot, wildly surging passion well up in her.
Carlo was stunned by the overpoweringly sensual feeling of her naked young body. His hands roved hungrily over her softness and her firmness, lingering over each fleshy curve. He could feel his cock stiffen and swell with a hotly implacable lust. Never had he imagined she would feel this good to him, or that she could respond in such a fiery way that seemed to match his own wild abandon. There were few girls that could measure up to the sexual demands be made, and the thought crossed his mind that the next door girl he had practically ignored for the past two years might indeed be just the woman he had been looking for. He shoved his tongue deeply and roughly into her warmly moist mouth, and Joan greedily opened her mouth wide to receive him as deeply as possible. He felt her hot little tongue playing with his as he explored the warm interior of her mouth. Then, suddenly she forced his tongue out, and shoved hers deep into his mouth with as much lewd intensity as he bad done. At first the poet was almost caught off guard, but quickly he realized that her passion matched his perfectly.
Without warning she slid her hand down into the front of his dungarees and lightly grabbed his massively pulsating cock, massaging it inside his jeans, sending heated ripples of hunger through him.
"Oh, baby ... " he moaned, as her hand skillfully caressed his throbbing penis. He leaned down and began sucking and biting on her straining breast, licking at the softly fleshed mound with a rising tide of passion. So caught were these two in the thrall of their sexuality that they completely forgot the Grayson's in the other room.
Lorna saw them first, and gasped. She couldn't believe that, after all that had taken place, Carlo and Joan could completely lose themselves like that. It shocked her to see them making love so shamelessly, when she and Bob were sitting only a few yards away ... and, if she were completely honest with herself, she also felt a slight twinge of jealousy.
Bob saw them also, and like Lorna his first reaction was distaste. It seemed crude on both their parts to behave so lewdly, but then when he had a chance to think about it, he quickly realized that Carlo and Joan were of a different world, and that it was as much his own uptightness as their uninhibited behavior that caused his discomfort. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps I can never be as free as those two, but I can surely learn a lot from them. He realized that his experience with Joan had given him a certain freedom that he had never had before. He turned to Lorna, whose eyes were locked on the salacious spectacle.
"Are you shocked by what they're doing?" he asked.
"Yes ... yes, a little," she replied softly.
"I think it's okay ... they have their own way of doing things," he said, "and so do we. Maybe we can all learn something from each other." He put his hand down between her naked legs and began steadily stroking her sleek inner thighs. His meaning was unmistakable.
"Oh, Bob, I don't know," she said, feeling her old fears taking hold of her again. "I'm afraid ... "
"Don't be afraid," he said, whispering in her ear, "don't be afraid."
He kissed her ear lightly, then blew into it. Lorna could feel shivers all over her body as he did so. He began to kiss her face, her neck and naked shoulders, and Lorna was paralyzed! He was actually going to try to make love to her, right here! Now! And with Carlo and Joan in the same room! Despite everything she had been through, she still felt resistant to her husband's advances. Suddenly, he moved his head down to her pubic area and without warning, for the first time in their married life, he jammed his wetly quivering tongue deeply into her moist vaginal passage.
"Aaaaaannnnggghh!" Lorna groaned, suddenly taken aback by the quickness of his move.
It was almost as if Bob instinctively felt her terror getting in their way again, and, was determined to use what he now knew would help her get over it. He shoved his warmly curling tongue deeply into her pussy, licking madly, giving her absolutely no chance to resist. He nibbled at the tiny nub of her clitoris which quickly hardened, sending irrepressible tingles of wanton delight through Lorna's body. She realized suddenly that her husband, her slim, beautiful husband, was the man giving her this rough tonguing in her rapidly awakening vagina, and the thought excited her tremendously. She opened her legs wide and pushed her glistening pussy forward, unashamedly offering it to him ... savoring each wet lick of his warm tongue on her trembling cuntal flesh. "Yeeeessss," she cried loudly, "yessss!"
In the alcove, Carlo and Joan had just broken away from the consuming spell of their sexuality in time to see Bob tonguing his wife's wildly writhing cunt. They turned to each other with a broad smile of delight and shrugged their shoulders.
"Quite a day," Joan whispered.
"It ain't over yet," Carlo replied and quickly shut off the half-brewed coffee. "It ain't over yet. Let's fuck."
He grabbed Joan again, excited by the scene taking place on his mattress, and resumed licking and sucking her breasts. The girl's, small hands unfastened all the buttons on Carlo's jeans and pushed them down to his ankles, freeing his massive tool that shot erect with a majestic yearning. She skillfully stroked and massaged his genitals, knowing she was driving him to maddening heights of excitement. He suddenly jammed his outstretched middle finger harshly into her moistly quivering pussy.
"Aaaaagghh!" she cried "OOOOHHHH, BABEEEEE!"
The two of them-stood in the alcove caressing each other with a wildly erotic abandon.
On the mattress, Lorna had become so shamelessly aroused that she could no longer contain herself. In one shattering moment all her inhibitions and restraint toppled like a row of dominoes.
"Let me suck you," she cried, "Let me suck your beautiful cock, darling."
Bob was completely astonished by her words. This was the first time his wife had ever used such lewdly exciting language, and he was totally delighted. He was seeing aspects of her he had never seen before. Quickly he pulled his pants off and lay back on the couch, as Lorna positioned her suddenly salivating mouth over his wildly throbbing penis. Slowly she lowered her face until her half-parted, glistening lips had enclosed the bulbous tip of his cock, and then she began to suck and pull at it, sending incredible waves of hot excitement through him.
"Ooooohhh ... "he moaned blissfully.
Lorna sucked eagerly and found herself enjoying the musky male odor of her husband's cock that filled her nostrils! She found a heated new excitement at taking his huge, pulsating penis in her wet mouth and tasting it, sucking it, feeling it sliding along the rim of her teeth and lips; it gave her a sense of warm, immense pleasure, filling her naked body with a tingling delight. With her hands she massaged the hard resiliency of his balls dangling beneath his throbbing hardness. She had never thought she could enjoy something like this so much, but it was true! She was finally free of the guilt and nagging fear that had kept her a prisoner all these years, free now to find, the full flower of her womanhood. She hunched over his heatedly beating penis, licking and sucking at it greedily, as If to devour it totally 'in her warm, wet mouth. As her tightly ovalled lips moved up and down his hard shaft, she suddenly realized that she was indescribably happy ... perhaps truly happy for the first time in her adult life, for now she was part and partner of a man.
Meanwhile, Joan and Carlo were discovering that their sexual instincts were perfectly matched; they had played with each other's wantonly aroused bodies building each other up to almost undreamed of heights of arousal, and now both yearned for sexual union.
"Let's do it on the floor, next to them," Joan suggested, whispering in Carlo's ear. "It'll be beautiful."
"Baby, we are in complete agreement," he replied.
Stepping out of his jeans, he moved into the room behind Joan, being careful not to disturb the passion of the couple on the mattress. They quietly lowered to the floor, after Joan put a couple of huge fluffy pillows beneath her naked buttocks to raise her hips and allow deeper entry into her womb. Carlo kneeled between her widespread legs, then lay atop her, supported by his arms and knees. He looked like a great brute, a muscular, wanton savage, and Joan was lewdly thrilled by the idea. She could feel her impatiently pulsating pussy surge. with excitement and fill with a moistness in anticipation of his hardened thickness entering her.
"Now ... now ... " she whispered. "Fuck me now."
Carlo reached down between their naked bodies and guided his huge pulsating shaft of flesh deftly into her yearning, moistly hot vaginal passage. As it moved in and pounded like a spongy jack-hammer against her cervix, Joan felt as if she had never before been fucked - as if suddenly she had become complete - had discovered new sensations within herself. The thought excited her; how very good he felt in her, how she loved the sparkling warmth that seemed to wash over her as their naked bodies fucked up and down against each other. She felt incredibly lucky. First today, there had been Bob, who was tremendously exciting to be with, and now Carlo, with his own wildly different brand of fucking! She felt as if all her dreams were coming true!
Now, Carlo began to move smoothly in and out of her madly rejoicing cunt like a powerful steam engine beginning to gather momentum. He could feet his aching prick slide back and forth along the wetly undulating walls of the girl's tender little pussy; with each stroke it seemed his cock had never before felt such a wildly exciting cunt, and already he could feel the tingling of an orgasm begin to surge through him. His huge, hairy balls were slapping at the naked flesh of her anal crevice, and the sound of naked flesh on naked flesh only increased his potency. Suddenly he knew he was going to screw her like crazy! Screw her from here to kingdom come! He rammed his hips back and forth, and the young woman eagerly fucked back, moving her pelvis in perfect synchronization up to meet his long, hard cock; they could hear the wet, sluicing sounds of penis and vagina heatedly joining together in moist delight.
Suddenly, Joan could no longer keep her happiness to herself. She cried out loudly, "Oooohhhhhh! FUCK ME GOOD, BABY, FUCK MEEEEEEEEE"
It was only then that Bob and Lorna Grayson became aware of the other couple on the floor next to them. They had been so lost in their own wild sexuality that they hadn't realized that Carlo and Joan had slipped down beside them and were making love! Lorna panicked and pulled her warmly wet mouth away from her husband's long, glistening cock. Bob realized that she had been caught completely off guard and was about to retreat into her old anxiety and fright. He pulled his tongue from her sweetly moistened cunt and changed position so that he was sitting.
"It's all right, darling ... " he whispered softly into her ear as he moved to her. "It's all right."
He gently pushed her back on to the mattress and before she could protest, slipped his hardened penis into her wetly cringing pussy. He could feel her body tense and attempt to withdraw, but he was determined to help her over her difficulties. Taking the cue from Carlo, he began to swing his hips back and forth, easily at first, trying to relax her.
From the moment Lorna realized that Carlo and Joan were making love right there next to them, she became totally shaken. Up until that time she had been more free than she had ever been in her life, and had found herself consumed with this new sense of erotic freedom. It had been wonderful sucking Bob's cock like that; her lips had savored the feeling, her whole body had trembled with a new and strange passion. But now, suddenly she was growing cold and frightened .. frightened that she was involved in something beyond her capabilities. She felt Bob move his wetly thick penis into her vagina and was moving back and forth, but she felt distant, completely removed from what was happening to her. Her fists were actually clenched in fear.
The young wife closed her eyes, trying to relax, but immediately the mask-like face of Aunt Rose came like a nightmare specter into her mind.
"You'll be sorry, my girl," she heard Rose shrieking, "you'll be sorry! You little tramp! YOU UTTLE TRAMP! YOU LITTLE TRAMP! LOOK AT YOU, RUTTING LIKE AN ANIMAL, A FILTHY ANIMAL. ANIMAL! TRAMP! ANIMAL!!!"
The words seemed to be echoing over and over, louder and louder. Lorna winced from their intensity. But gradually she became aware of Bob's cock tearing at her, warmly roaring along the sensitive walls of her vaginal sheath ... pounding, pounding ... it was as if his pounding were trying to break through the intensity of Aunt Rose's forbidding words. Little by little, as she felt the hot moistness grow in her cuntal passage, she began to feel fully the long throbbing length of his huge cock inside of her. The vision of Aunt Rose's bitter, cruel face brightened, grew more intense. Then Bob stopped his thrusts to look down and say simply, "I love you. Do you know that?" Then gently, he began pushing his massively pulsating rod in and out of her awakening cunt again. Aunt Rose's face seemed to grow dim, then brighten, then grow dim again ... as Lorna felt a deep erotic ecstasy begin to surge through her loins from Bob's pounding strokes. It was then she knew positively that the two of them were winning the battle against Aunt Rose and the inhibiting sexual terror that had instilled into her as a small girl. With every battering blow that embittered, spinsterish face grew dimmer and dimmer, and with 'all her courage and strength Lorna began to surrender fully to her husband, resisting the fear and coldness.
"Yessssss ... " she moaned softly, then louder and louder ... "Yeeessssss!!! Yeeeeesssss!!!! YEEEEESSSSSSSSSSI! !!! FUCK ME!!! FUCK MEEEEEEE!"
In this final shrieked cry, it seemed to Lorna that the image of Aunt Rose's face shattered like a mirror into a million pieces and faded away ... and she felt a sudden release, as if a great weight had been taken from her body forever. At last she was free of the shackles she had known for almost fifteen years!
"OH YEEEEESSSSSSS" she shrieked, "YEEESSSSSSSSS! FUCK, OH, FUCK ME."
Tears of joy streaming from her eyes, she gave herself completely to the roaring surge of lust that ran through her. Her voluptuous young body began to writhe, and she wrapped her long slender legs around his naked buttocks as Bob slammed into her like a mighty cannon. He had finally battered through her resistance, battered through years of fear and turmoil. She moved her pelvis up and down now with a fevered intensity and tightly put her arms around him, delighting in his rippling muscular body. She ran her hands through his curly hair, and eagerly drew his face down to hers. They kissed deeply, thrillingly, with an intensity they had never before known.
Bob could feel the release of tension immediately. It was as if they had suddenly been freed from restraints that had held them back for years, and their bodies merged as never before. He felt his cock suddenly grow even harder - stronger - and he flicked in and out of her wildly milking cunt.
Lying next to them, feeling Carlo's thickly pulsating penis driving in and out of her own vagina, Joan turned and watched the Grayson's make love. How beautiful they looked, she thought, and how wonderful it was to see young, perfect bodies passionately mucking each other. She felt a warm rush of sympathy, mixed with the extraordinary passion - that rushed through her as Carlo rammed his hot fleshy staff into her. She tentatively reached out with her hand and touched the two naked bodies next to her. Lorna and Bob turned, feeling the softly warm touch of her fingers, and both smiled. Both of the Grayson's reached out for her naked body and began caressing it gently.
It was the first time Lorna had actually seen another couple making love; and free of her anxieties, she watched in a rapt amazement that added heat to her own excitement. She had never before realized bow incredible the sight of two bodies fucking could be. She gazed blissfully at Carlo, so thickly muscled, so brutish, nakedly arched over Joan perfectly, each muscle rippling and shining with sweat. She watched him swinging his powerful hips in and out, and could see his huge, glistening cock slipping in and out of the moistly clinging flesh of Joan's pussy. And Joan! How radiant she looked as Carlo drove into her with a raging lust. Joan had closed her eyes now and was giving herself totally to the rapture she felt, still letting her hand wander over Bob and Lorna as they flicked.
Bob watched also, feeling a sense of amazement that grew more intense by the minute. It seemed incredible to him that so much could have happened in such a short time. Not only had he broken through many of his own resistances, but his wife also had been suddenly freed from her old anxieties and fears. Within the space of only two days, their lives had been completely turned upside down; they were now in a situation that only forty-eight hours ago they would never, have dreamed possible. With a cry like a Viking warrior, he slammed his massively throbbing prick deeply into his wife's wetly steaming cuntal passage.
"ANNNGGGGGGGGGH!" she cried, delighting In the depths of passion she felt. "Your cock feels wonderful!"
Carlo turned, still ramming his mighty spear into Joan, and caught Bob's eye. The two of them, fucking side by side, exchanged a warm, broad smile, and each went about the business of satisfying the ravishing, writhing creatures beneath them. They went at it like two satyr-gods astride their voluptuous mounts, fucking them with a lusty intensity charged with an incredible potency.
It was still hard for Carlo to believe that his poems were going to be published; it had all been because of an error, a secretary's error. But at the same time, he realized that his brutality always had been a mask, a wall behind which he could hide his own insecurity. Now, after this strange confrontation, he felt a new person emerging; he felt in better control of his temper, a little more mellow. Even the quality of his screwing with Joan beneath him seemed to have more feeling, more of a sense of subtle rapture that added to his strength. Now, as he drove powerfully into her hotly clasping cunt, his body straining and sweating, alive with lust, he cried out joyously!
"YAHOOOOOOO!" he shouted like a drunken cowboy, grinning from ear to ear, and riding Joan like a mare. "YAHOOO!"
His ecstatic cries seemed to radiate a new charge of excitement to the room, and both couples felt a change come over their bodies, as if they were all four now in total rhythm with each other, perfect synchronization.
Bob felt the first heated surge of cum winding through his pulsing, sperm-bloated balls. An excruciating delight wafted over his naked body as hot little tingles began to ripple outward from his loins. The white-hot seminal fluid was pushing slowly upwards for the final moment of ecstatic release. Lorna, also~, feeling the shudder of ecstasy go through Bob's body, could feel her vaginal walls begin to quiver and squeeze with a new intensity, a hotly exciting series of thrills began radiating out of her cunt, spreading throughout her entire body. She was almost there ... almost ... for the first time ever with her husband ... almost!
"Oooohhhhh ... " she moaned, feeling the onset of orgasm. "Oooohhhh ... "
Carlo felt his distended prick begin to pulse with new excitement as he heard Lorna's mewling rapture next to him; his balls, slapping against Joan's anal furrow, became charged with excitement as he, too, felt the restless surging of cum begin to work its way towards that final explosion. He became inundated with a growing feeling of hot delight, his body consumed with a lusty, steaming sensation. He was being wrenched out of himself into the total feeling of swirling, surging eroticism. He felt bathed in light, awash in a completely abandoned wantoness. The poet bucked and fucked into the young woman's writhing body beneath him; he was caught in the fabulous crescendo unlike anything he had known before. How incredible it felt to ram his climaxing prick deep into Joan's hot, moistly fleshed little cunt!
"Ah ... ah ... ah ... " he groaned, as the excruciating build-up seemed to go on forever.
Beneath him, Joan had lost all consciousness and was floating on a cloud, seemingly high above the earth. She was being billowed aloft by the intensity of her orgasm and Carlo's expert fucking. She felt the erotic sparks beginning to shoot through her body, as her vaginal walls became hot, then began gushing out the juices of her orgasm. She suddenly convulsed and began wildly bucking like a huge fighting fish attempting to dislodge the barbed hook.
"AAAAAAANNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGH!" Carlo screamed, and Joan felt the spurting explosion of hot fluid inside of her. It fanned out through her loins and seemed to extend to every part of her body. She felt herself floating' higher and higher on a tidal wave of delight as she came with him.
Bob, also, had reached the pinnacle of ecstasy and his white hot cum was spurting headlong out of his ramming tool and into Lorna's wetly clasping pussy. Their cum mixed in sweet rapture, and both of them felt transported beyond time and space, lost only in the fountain-burst of passion that consumed them both. They had melted into one another, two madly fucking animals that were floating on a river of orgasm.
"AAAAAEIEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Lorna cried, feeling the floodgates open in her and a torrent of exquisite delight pervade her entire body. Never in her life had she felt anything as wonderful as this! She felt free now, free forever of the bondage of the past. She had surrendered completely to her husband, and found, in her surrender, a totally new and delightful world opening up to her.
The small studio apartment seemed to shake with the orgiastic excitement that pervaded the room. The two couples were thrashing away in wanton abandonment; loud moans and panting cries pierced the air, bodies twisted and heaved, undulating in- an unbelievably beautiful exploding ecstasy.
After what seemed like hours, the throbbing excitement began to diminish. Both men felt their surging seminal fluid ebb and drain away, and finally the throbbing passion subsided! Carlo pulled away from Joan and lay on a pillow next to her, completely satisfied ... for the moment. Bob did the same, sprawling on the mattress next to his wife. For a long time nobody spoke, each was in a private world of pleased satiation.
Carlo stared over toward Bob Grayson's wife. God, he thought, she is a luscious broad. Not quite as talented sex-wise as Joan here, but not bad. With a little training, she'd be damned near unbeatable in bed. He glanced up to see Bob staring speculatively at Joan lying nakedly on the mattress; as the poet watched, his eyes were drawn by the long slow crawl of the editor's penis coming back to a vigorous life ... ready to join battle again.
Carlo nodded to himself then said, "Hey, man. Want to change partners?"
An immediate look of anger crossed the editor's face, and he had opened his mouth to protest when he happened to look down and saw Lorna's expression. "No ... I don't think we'd better ... " His words choked off as Lorna reached up and gently put her hand against his mouth. She was nodding her head rapidly.
"Why not?" she asked. "Why not? We've both been with them before. We like them."
Bob was stunned for a moment, but then as he saw Joan softly smile at him and open her legs in silent invitation, he suddenly felt it really was the only thing to do. He already felt the growing excitement at the thought of seeing his wife lying beside him, being fucked by another man while he fucked the sensually voluptuous Joan.
He grinned, then said laughingly, "Yeah. Why not?"
Chapter 9
It was the fifteenth of December. Four months had elapsed since the strange meeting in the Village. Carlo's poem had just been published in the December issue of Metropolitan, and Bob sat in the breakfast nook of their home, reading excitedly to Lorna from the latest issue of Book Review Weekly.
"Listen to this," he said and began reading from the text of the paper, "The publication of The Sun Stallion in this month's issue of Metropolitan is a landmark in magazine publishing history. Editor Bob Grayson has discovered in Carlo Vincenti a major new poet, perhaps the best of the young generation, and certainly one of the best in the past decade ... "
"Oh, Bob," Lorna cried, "that's fantastic!"
"There's more," he said, reading further.
"The writing style is superb, and the reader is swept along by the sensuous, fluid lines of these poems in a way that is unlike anything this reviewer has come across in quite some time. It was a pleasure to read it! Thank you Metropolitan! And thank you, Carlo Vincenti!"
"Bob," Lorna said, "I'm so proud."
"So am I," Bob said, beaming at her.
The past few months had fulfilled the hopeful promise of that strange encounter, for Lorna and Bob were now closer than they had ever been. Their life was full and rich, and they felt well on the way to even greater happiness.
"I'd better get going, or I'll be late for work," Bob said, glancing at the clock.
As he rose from the table, there was a buzz at the front door.
"I'll get it," Lorna said, and moved quickly to the living room.
Bob slipped on his overcoat and picked up his attach� case. "Who is it?" he called from the hallway.
"A telegram," she replied.
"From whom?"
"I don't know ... "
In a few moments Lorna was in the hallway with him tearing open the envelope. She read the contents.
"It's from Carlo ... Why it's a poem!"
"A poem?"
He took the telegram from her and read the contents; it was indeed, a short poem:
A POET WHO IS HEAPED WITH PRAISE CAN HARDLY HOPE FOR SOMETHING MORE BUT YOU SHOULD BE THE FIRST TO KNOW I'M GOING TO WED THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
"My god," Bob exclaimed, "they're going to be married!"
"It's wonderful!" Lorna said, "just wonderful!"
"Who would have thought it would have turned out that way?" Bob asked?
"Well," Lorna said, "as Joan might so aptly remark, fate works in strange ways'!"
"It certainly does," Bob agreed, as he put his arms around his beautiful, voluptuous wife and drew her closely to him, "it certainly does."
They kissed passionately, their bodies pressed close and shivers of excitement ran through them.
"Mmmmmm ... " Lorna sighed happily as they separated.
"I may never get to work this morning~" Bob said, smiling broadly and drawing her to him again.
Suddenly the doorbell rang again.
"Damn'," Bob snapped, "now what?"
"It's probably the postman," Lorna said, walking to the door. She bent down and picked up some letters that had been slipped under the door. "Bills. And a letter."
"A letter? From whom?"
"Aunt Rose."
"That old bitch. What the hell does she want now?"
Lorna looked at the letter, her fingers began to tremble slightly at the thought of what the contents might be. She stared at the white envelope with her Aunt's familiar cramped handwriting scrawled across it.
"Oh, I don't know what she wants," she said at last. "And, frankly, I don't give a damn."
Glancing up at her husband she began to rip the letter into little pieces; then she threw it above her head and they both laughed as the torn letter fluttered about them like confetti. Lorna moved to Bob and slid easily into his arms. They looked at each other with love and warmth.
"Now," she sighed, reaching up with her mouth to nibble the tips of his earlobes, "where were we?"
