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Subject: NEW The Family Swappers [2/3]
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WARNING:
This story is fiction, and should be treated as such.
The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY,
and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an
adult, or reading sex stories upset you, do not read any further.
I am not the author. I don't have the talent.
I can only be ... "TheEditor".
[continued]
The Family Swappers
Chapter 6
Erick read the printed schedule groggily. His brother's
valet, Frank, doubled as his own when he stayed out at the country
house, and the older man woke him early, reminding him that the
entire family had to be up early that morning. Usually Erick made
his own time, but this time, he remembered that he was expected to
be on hand during the 2 day excursion to Cederton.
"I'll be down for breakfast in half an hour," he said to
Frank as he tried to focus his blood-shot eyes on the print in
front of him.
10:00 A.M. Grandville Airport.
Family Jet departs at 10:30
Arrive Cederton 12:30 Greetings and Speech at Airport, local
Cassidy Club in full turnout.
1:30 P.M. Luncheon at local party club, TC in meetings until
4:00 P.M.
Free Time until 6:00 P.M.
Meet with local Club leaders and dinner at Hotel.
Free to 9:00 P.M. TC speech and question and answer period
during rally at Cederton Hall.
"Ugh!" Erick groaned. That was only the first day, he didn't
bother to read the second sheet of paper. He hated going on these
tours with his brothers but he couldn't expect to get out of it
all the time. Ron was very conscious of what the public wanted,
and he knew that it wanted to see the whole family out there
working for Tim Cassidy. Much as he hated to admit it, Erick knew
that Ron was right. He would go along and smile and try to look
busy, and maybe he could find some kind of amusement for himself.
Then he remembered Sylvie and the entire blurry events of the
night before.
"Christ!" he exclaimed, as he headed for the shower, "and I
almost got it in, too ... just a few seconds more, and I would
have been in!"
He laughed to himself as the hot water poured over his lean
body, suddenly cheerful about the whole incident. He had little
Sylvie just where he wanted her, didn't he? The delicate taste of
her golden blonde cunt still lingered on his lips until he
showered it off, and he wondered why he'd let her get such a rise
out of him when she scrambled away from him and headed for that
side door.
"Must have been pretty looped myself," he mused, "to let a
little cunt like that shake me up so!"
As he descended to the dining room, Erick showed little signs
of the previous night's debauchery ... his drinking with Sylvie at
the Club and his angry solitary drinking in his room afterward.
He smiled brightly to the housekeeper, Margaret, and when he saw
the little maid, Ella, he patted her on the bottom affectionately.
"We'll do it again soon, honey!" he confided, watching her
blush deep red and hurry away from him.
Tim was already at the table, and Erick pulled up his chair
after a brief good morning. He knew that Tim did not like to be
disturbed so early with banal chatter. The oldest brother perused
his newspapers silently, munching on his fresh croissants and
drinking his steaming hot coffee.
Ron entered shortly thereafter, and sat down.
"Wher're the girls?" he asked. "I hope Arlene knows that
she's expected to go along on this trip!" he growled sitting down.
"And Sylvie'd better be ready on time!" Ron was rarely
pleasant in the mornings, but they were all used to it.
Tim looked up briefly from the New York Times. He recalled
that Sylvie had really seemed out of it that morning, but he
remembered that she was getting up as he came downstairs. But as
for Arlene, he had no idea if anyone had bothered to tell the
attractive brunette that she would be expected along on the trip
to Cederton. Momentarily, he let his mind dwell upon the way his
wife's dark-haired cousin had cooed and crooned when his cock
slipped higher and higher into her raging pussy. She really
wanted it bad! Tim surmised.
"That's your job, Ron ..." he suddenly blurted out. "If you
didn't tell Arlene she probably doesn't know unless Sylvie asked
her to come, and you can't be sure of that. Don't bother me with
those petty things! I'll have to start having breakfast in my
room if this keeps up!" Tim went back to his paper.
Justly chastised, Ron frowned and went upstairs to alert
Arlene. He had expected the newcomer to be up and about bright
and early the way she had been on her first day, and he made a
mental note to observe her to make sure she was not the type who
would let him down in the lurch.
* * *
Ella scurried up the back stairs holding the small tray in
her hands. She had been stunned to see the buzzer from Sylvie's
dressing-room ring, and to hear over the intercom that her
employer wanted to have coffee and toast and jam brought to her
room. Ella was used to the fact that her beautiful blonde
mistress seemed to have no use for her whatsoever. All that Ella
could do was to straighten up while Sylvie was away, making sure
that Sylvie's bath salts never ran out. It was an easy job for
her, and she had no complaints, even though it was clear that
Sylvie did not seem to be able to stand the sight of her.
Ella had no idea that she had been observed that day,
groaning and grinding her naked buttocks into the sand as she
received Erick Cassidy's thrusting hard cock deep in her half-
virgin pussy. Had she known, she would never have been able to
stay in the Cassidy's employ. It was shameful enough for her now
to have to live with the way she had behaved with the youngest
brother of the family. And she only prayed that he would stay
away from her, because she feared that a similar lapse might occur
again. Certainly, he was one of the devil's agents!
Sylvie watched as Ella set the tray down and began to pour
the hot coffee into a cup. She had been lying in bed with a boric
acid pack over her eyes trying to make the swelling go down. She
had precious little time before she would have to forget all the
horror that dwelled within her bones and go out and be a public
figure again.
She looked at the pretty teen-ager who acted as though she
expected to be screamed out of the room at any minute. She
suddenly felt sorry for the girl. As sorry as she felt for
herself.
"Ella!" she said, "that is your name, isn't it?"
Ella jumped and almost dropped the coffee pot. "Yes ... yes,
ma'm."
"Do you like Mr. Erick?" she inquired, not really certain
what she was going to say.
"I ... I ..." Ella stammered frightened to death. Did Mrs.
Cassidy know about that day at the beach?
"You must stay away from him, Ella, do you hear me?" Sylvie
said, her face contorted with emotion. "Even if you think you
don't want to ... You must be strong!"
"Y-yes ... ma'm!" Ella burst into tears and went running from
the room, her high heels clicking behind her.
* * *
It was 9:30 P.M. and Sylvie Cassidy sat on the large platform
in an uncomfortable folding chair. On either side of her sat her
two brothers-in-law, Ron and Erick, her cousin, Arlene, sat on the
other side of Erick and various other members of the party,
cohorts and their assistants, including the older woman who was
Tim's secretary sat in a long row across the stage. Sylvie
watched her husband's back as he stood before them at the
speaker's platform. She had long since stopped listening to his
words, but she looked toward him with the expression of adoration
that was expected of her. From time to time she would look out at
the audience, and although the lights were bright against her
eyes, she could catch a glimpse of a face here and there.
"We're all here on exhibition!" she thought, meanly.
"They've just come to stare at us!"
She was overtly aware of the presence of the man she hated
most in the world beside her. Her husband's younger brother had
been sarcastically polite with her all day when they found
themselves together. But she knew that he was only planning ways
to get even with her for running away the night before. She had
hoped to save some semblance of her honor by stopping the lewd
plunder of her loins, but now she was not so certain that she had
saved anything at all. The torrential orgasm that her brother-in-
law had wrenched from her tongue-dipped pussy still seemed to
resound in her belly, and she was in a constant state of arousal
that she could do nothing to stop.
She thought wildly of seeing a doctor, but she knew she would
be forced into going to the Cassidy family man, to whom she could
never confide her problems. Somewhere, somehow, she must seek
help, though, she thought as the audience began to applaud, or
else she would go crazy!
"Mother's coming tomorrow, you know ... flying in from
Grandville!" Erick whispered confidentially to her.
Sylvie jumped at the evil sound of Erick's voice so near her
ear. Thelma Cassidy! The very thought of it, that her dreadful
mother-in-law would be there the following day was enough to make
her want to break down and cry right then and there. She gave a
sudden gasp and Ron turned and looked at her sharply.
"What's the matter with you Sylvie? You look terrible. Get
a hold of yourself!"
Sylvie wanted to run into her husband's arms when at last he
had finished with the questions from the audience. But it was
impossible to reach him. Ron was already right next to him
telling him that he had done better than was expected with the
difficult questions about his position on Taiwan and he was elated
that he had been so knowledgeable about the Women's Liberation
movement. The others were crowding around and congratulating him
and he was being pulled away toward the door.
Sylvie followed, feeling lost and alone. When Arlene came up
beside her, Sylvie turned to her cousin. "Oh, Arlene," she said,
tearfully, "never, never marry a politician. Your husband is
never truly yours ... he belongs to those others ..." she gestured
up ahead toward the moving crowd, centered by Tim Cassidy.
Arlene, still thrilling to her sacred moments alone with Tim
on the terrace, growled back at Sylvie in a much nastier tone than
she had meant to use, "It's your fault, Sylvie ... Tim is a very
special man ... and frankly, you don't act like you deserve him!!"
Sylvie stood stock still as her cousin moved hurriedly away
from her, after the disappearing crowd. Her mouth hung open in
surprise at the bitterness of her cousin's attack, and then closed
when she realized that someone might be watching her.
Quickly, she headed toward the side door where she knew the
limousines were waiting. She took the last one in the line, and
ordered the startled driver to take her back to the hotel
immediately. As the car pulled away, Sylvie looked out the
window. She could see Tim and the others emerging from the
meeting hall via the back entrance. To her alarm, she saw that
there were two young college girls who worked for the organization
clinging to Tim's arms, and he was laughing his characteristic
laugh and smiling down at them.
Sylvie plunged back into the dark seat, her eyes overflowing
with tears and her blood seething with rage.
"I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" she said out loud.
"Did you say something, Mrs. Cassidy?" the chauffeur
inquired, and Sylvie replied a terse, "no!" and pushed the button
that rolled up the glass panel between the driver's seat and the
passenger seat.
The hotel suite was opulent, but Sylvie found no pleasure in
the baroque furnishings or the thickly carpeted floors. She had
seen a thousand hotel rooms like these, and was due to see a
thousand more before her husband reached the White House, after he
won his seat in the Senate. How many more years would it all
take, and how old would she be when all the goals had been
reached. More important, how old would she feel?
Sylvie lay crying upon the large double bed that she was
certain would not be the scene of the intimacy she sought with her
husband. Heaven only knew when he would get back to the hotel
room, and by that time Sylvie thought she might have gone so far
as to do away with herself.
But suicide was not the answer, Sylvie knew that much as,
still sobbing, she peered into the large bathroom mirror. Even
her cousin, Arlene had turned on her, but still she would not
commit that final profanity.
The phone rang jolting her back to the other room. Her hopes
rose as she thought it might be Tim, wondering where she was and
hoping that she would join him. Perhaps something could be
salvaged of the mess she was in after all.
"Hi, Doll ... It's me, your gorgeous brother-in-law. Your
husband, the Senator, asked me to call. Wants to know where the
hell you are?"
"I ... I ..." Sylvie stammered.
"Well, I'll tell him you have a headache or something ...
obviously you're at the hotel. He won't be along for a while ...
there are a few people here ... a couple of girls ... some of the
prettier sort, and ..."
Sylvie threw the telephone down onto the receiver, only to
hear it ring again.
"You shouldn't ever hang up on a Cassidy, Sylvie," Erick's
voice droned. "You need something to soothe your nerves? Want me
to drop by??"
Sylvie suddenly screamed into the phone, "YES! YES!!! COME
BY ... COME RIGHT NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO MISS THE SHOW ... IT'LL
BE A GOOD SHOW I CAN PROMISE YOU THAT!!!" She hung up and ran
into the bathroom, where she began to fling off her clothing.
* * *
Tim and Ron were locked in conversation with their host, the
Mayor.
"Sylvie says she'll wait for you at the hotel Tim," Erick
declared.
"Okay, fine ..." Tim replied, "nothing for her to do here
anyway." He was a little annoyed that Arlene was still hanging
around, but said nothing since the young brunette sat in a corner
going over the coming schedules for the next few weeks, and did
nothing to bother him.
Tim turned to talk to the mayor, and Erick started to slip
out. "Hey, where you going?" Ron asked, standing and going over
to his younger brother.
Erick thought a second and then said to his brother, "Don't
bother Tim with this, but I think Sylvie is flipping at the hotel.
I'm hotfooting it over to see what's wrong."
"Why don't you send Arlene?" Ron asked, nodding toward the
seated woman who was looking at them curiously. He then thought
better of it, "No ... you'd better go ... I want to know all about
it, whatever it is we've got to get her straightened out in a
hurry, can't have her going around win a face a mile long,
screwing everything up!"
"Yeah ... that's what I thought," Erick replied, hurriedly
leaving the room.
Arlene looked up as the younger brother left, she began to
fume as she surmised that he was going to meet her cousin Sylvie
at the hotel!
* * *
An angry and totally deranged Sylvie flung the door open as
Erick knocked. Shocked by her appearance, Erick hesitated at
first at the door, but Sylvie motioned him in dramatically.
"COME ON IN CASSIDY ... DON'T MISS THE SHOW!"
Erick would have had difficulty recognizing Sylvie had he not
known for a fact that the woman facing him was his brother's wife.
She had done something dreadful to her hair that made it stand up
in teased puffs around her head, and the powder rouge and lipstick
on her face seemed to be an inch thick at least. She wore long
false eyelashes that made her look like a female impersonator, and
it was clear that she had tried to make herself appear as cheap
and tawdry as possible.
She wore a flowing pink negligee which might have appeared
tastefully pink under ordinary circumstances, but which only
looked as cheap and garish as the make-up she had applied.
She motioned Erick to a chair, and began to "perform" for
him, her lips curling sarcastically as she began to mouth the ugly
phrases that her distraught mind conjured up.
Erick flicked the "on" button of the small, expensive
recording machine he held in his pocket.
"NOW YOU BASTARD ... YOU WANTED IT ... AND HERE IT IS!"
Lewdly, Sylvie began to do bumps and grinds around the room, and
from the way her filmy negligee separated as she moved, Erick
could see that his disturbed sister-in-law was completely naked
underneath. The creamy smoothness of her legs appeared and
disappeared as she slid and whirled, shook her hips and jiggled
her breasts to an imaginary tune in her head.
"I ... want a girl ... ju ... like ... the ... girl ... that
... married dear old DAD!" she chanted, moving ever closer to her
husband's brother. The normally sedate and cool young woman, so
renowned for her poise in almost any situation, had finally let
loose. And even though there weren't too many logical thoughts in
Sylvie's head, she knew that this was something that she'd been
wanting to do for a long time. An elation took hold of her as her
acts grew more and more outrageous. She beamed proudly, her eyes
glittering, watching the man who had been her tormentor as he sat
staring at her antics.
With lewd, provocative motions, she reached under her gown,
pulling the top clasp apart and baring her magnificently proud and
full rippled breasts. Holding one in each hand, she shimmied her
hips so that the blonde triangle of her willingly exposed cunt
beckoned obscenely to the young man sitting in the chair.
Having gotten over his initial astonishment, Erick began to
smile in an amused manner. He lifted his hands and clapped them
together in applause.
"If you've wanted to make yourself look like a whore, you've
succeeded. Although I must admit that even whores look quite
different these days."
His insults passed over Sylvie's head as she slowly slipped
out of her negligee. "What do you think of this?" she cooed,
grinning in lewd invitation, pushing her curvy little buttocks out
provocatively and mincing around his chair in a wide circle. She
kept both hands on her sleek and well proportioned hips, and threw
her head back as she walked, her hips swaying enticingly.
"Very good ..." Erick applauded some more. He was beginning
to get truly excited by Sylvie's outrageous performance. The fact
that he was responsible for this beautiful woman's turning herself
into a parody of a burlesque dancer, was keenly appreciated by his
more perverse nature.
"Very good, indeed!" he cried.
"You ain't seen nothing yet!" Sylvie declared, pushed toward
the extremes of her jangling nerves. She advanced toward him
cupping her breasts, letting the ripe ivory toned roundness of
them nestle in her palms, thrusting out the large rosy nipples
jubilantly.
Defiantly, she spread her long sensuous legs right in front
of him, and watched with satisfaction as her husband's brother's
eyes were glued to her fingers as she spread the puffy golden-
haired lips of her pussy, and revealed the glistening inner
pearlesence of her gleaming cunt.
Erick couldn't keep his eyes off it. Although he had known
its slippery interior intimately only the night before, it still
contained a mystery and a lure that he could not resist. HIS
BROTHER'S WIFE!
He reached forward for her, clasping her around the buttocks
and pulling her lewdly presented pussy to his face. He burrowed
his lips in the wet inner split, growling passionately as he
realized that his dream was going to come true in a few moments.
He was going to fuck his brother Tim's wife!
Sylvie's unnatural bravado snapped as soon as Erick's hands
were upon her however, and she began to scream, "Stop! Stop!!"
But Erick held her tight, his hands hot and rough, and
although she clawed out in a nightmarish fury, kicking and biting
at him, he was too determined and too strong for her. It only
took him a few moments to subdue her, holding her down on the
thick carpet, keeping her arms pinned to her naked sides. He knelt
over her and looked triumphantly.
Smirking devilishly, one hand rose up and began to massage
her right breast. Sylvie wriggled and screamed, "NO, NO, NO!"
"Got nice tits!" Erick whispered, fondling harder, searching
for the nipple. Finding it, he pinched hard until it grew rigid
beneath his fingers. His other hand was moving down and just as
Sylvie was trying to get her knee up to get him in the groin, his
hand slipped up into the fully spread, unprotected slit of her
pussy.
Sylvie's head fell backward as she was stunned by the searing
contact. She tried to resist the blinding flash of lust that
sprang up within her, but it was impossible. Too much had already
been set in motion. Then all the rest was like a slow motion
dream. It was happening to another person ... another woman
completely ... certainly not Sylvie Cassidy. Sylvie could watch
that other woman, that passionate, lewd creature who had lured
Erick on. She could look on from a great distance as the woman
did and said things that she herself would never do. Her thighs
and belly were afire and all the excitement that she had been
yearning for with her husband was there. When Erick freed his
imperiously erect cock with hurried impatience, he guided it
straight toward the pink defenseless lips of her vagina, heading
him toward the already wet and open spot that was ready to be
fully penetrated.
"OOOOOOOOoooohhhhhhhhHHHHH!! ERICK!! ERICK!!" she cried
out, a long wail of delight escaped from her brightly painted lips
as Sylvie lay back trembling beneath her brother-in-law's
thrusting prick. It felt so good that she was afraid to move.
How long had it been since she had felt a man's cock inside her
... promising her fulfillment, a man fucking her ... wanting her
... GIVING IT TO HER!
God, she needed it ... needed it even more than she had
known! She strained up against him, nakedly grinding against his
clothing, wanting him deeper inside her yearning moist cunt.
"FUCK DEEPER FUCK DEEPER DEEPER!" she cried, clutching up at
him and drawing him down closer to her full breasts, pushing
against the harsh fabric of his clothes as Erick grabbed the
wavering cheeks of Sylvie's buttocks and drove into her stallion-
like his hardness striking far into the gaping wetness of her
willingly wide-spread pussy.
"OH GOD!" she moaned, "OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" These were the
only words that counted now. All of Mrs. Tim Cassidy's
obligations were gone now, blissfully shattered, smashed by the
fucking cock in her womb ... all thoughts of her strangely silent
husband, of his possible infidelities ... all the peering, prying
newspapers... all had disappeared. Sylvie splayed her legs out as
wide as she could and allowed the thick blood filled cock of her
husband's baby brother to smash and plunder her aching, lust-
filled cunt into a blissful state of ecstasy.
"IT'S GOOD IT'S GOOD IT'S GOOD!!" she cried out, receiving
the brutal force of him in a state of raw, unadulterated lust.
With wanton abandon she began her orgasm,
"SSSSSSSNNNNNNNAAAAAAARRRREEEE!" letting it strike her incredibly
hard in a crashing, sharply spiraling tornado that spun her in all
directions at once. She knew it would be followed by another and
then another until all of her lust was milked from her hotly
streaming pussy!
When Sylvie lay in a crumpled mass of quivering spent flesh
beneath him, Erick knelt over her panting triumphantly.
"I fucked the living shit out of her!" he thought to himself
excitedly. She had toyed around with him long enough and finally
he had gotten to throw it to her. He went over her past
impertinences with delight, looking at her pale face as she lay on
the floor in a semi-swoon beneath him. The only thing that
bothered him was the thought that he might have given her too much
pleasure! His wetly, glistening cock began to rise from its
drooping state as a thought occurred to him. She wouldn't get
away so easy after all! He'd make sure she really remembered
their night together, just in case he never got a chance at his
brother's wife again!
"KNEEL UP!" he shouted briskly. There wasn't all that much
time. He could count on Tim being gone at least another hour
probably but no more.
Sylvie slowly emerged from the never-never land in which she
had been floating, there she was queen of all she surveyed, a
heavenly drifting creature who needed no food or water to survive,
only love. The harsh sound of Erick's voice brought her slowly
back to a reality she did not want to face, and when finally she
opened her eyes to his rough shaking, she closed them again right
away. It was as though someone had tossed cold water on her. She
was the old Sylvie, not the person who had so enjoyed her brother-
in-law's hard, lewd caresses. Her mind began to hum with the
horrid realization that he wanted something more from her,
something other than what she had already done.
"Oh god help me!" she thought, "perhaps if I go along with
him he'll leave ... it will all be over sooner!" She needed time
to think ... How could she have gone off the deep end so
completely. Was her mind going? Shamefully the memory of her
obscene behavior earlier in the evening came back to haunt her.
Down between her legs she felt achey and abused, whatever pleasure
she had been feeling at the time seemed erased. She felt herself
being bodily lifted from the rug, and she blushed for her
nakedness, for her thick ugly make-up, for everything she had
done. When she was positioned away from hen, on her knees, she
looked across at the exquisite furnishings of the hotel room and
winced that such acts of incestuous proportions were taking place
in such refined surroundings.
Behind her, Erick peered down at her tanned wide-spread
buttocks, deciding that he would truly humiliate Sylvie this time.
"NOW SPREAD THOSE LEGS WIDER!" he commanded. He had gotten
naked behind her, the better to enjoy himself, and his thick
pulsing cock stood out forward from his loins, its heavily veined
shaft pointing at the split between Sylvie's unsuspecting buttock
cheeks. Leaning over, hollowly and deliberately parted the cheeks
of her rounded buttocks wider than they would normally go. He
heard her moan and then with a perverse smile on his lips, pushed
his index finger forward. Sylvie's long tapered legs were spread
so far apart that she could feel the pull of her tendons where her
thighs joined the area of her used pussy. Suddenly, she felt a
sharp pain in her rectum and she realized with alarm that Erick
was working his finger into her back there. His finger was thick
and with a sudden sinking feeling, Sylvie knew that her husband's
brother was going to try to push it all the way in. She tried to
wriggle away from him as his finger began to turn in the deep
rubbery channel of her anus, sliding steadily inward and then
pulling out and pushing back in with abrupt jerking motions that
made her bellow out with pain.
"NNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGHHH!" The pain was horrible, and even
worse than that, the idea of what he was doing to her! No one had
ever touched her back there, and it felt decidedly hideous and
abnormal.
"PLEE ... PLEASE ... Haven't you done enough!!" she begged,
but as an answer to her pleas, Erick decided to try to force
another finger in beside the first, and placing the second thick
digit to the entrance of her roundly stretched rectum, he let it
worm its way in beside the other, watching gleefully as Sylvie
jiggled and squirmed, trying to cringe away. But Erick pulled her
buttocks back, making her remain in the humiliating lewd kneeling
position that made her rear passage wide-open to his obscene
attentions.
"YOU LITTLE CUNT!" he cursed, "I'm gonna fuck that tight
little high-and-mighty ass of yours, the one you've been shaking
at my cock for so long!"
Sylvie's face reddened, "OH WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MY LIFE!"
she thought "WHAT THIS AWFUL MOMENT HAVE TO DO WITH SYLVIE
CASSIDY!!" She was being punished for every lewd desire her body
had known! If only she had been chaste and faithful to her
husband! It occurred to her dazed mind that her cousin Arlene was
probably right ... a wife's place is beside her husband no matter
what ... she had been seriously remiss ... despite the pressures
of her life ... the perfection that was expected of her ... living
not with a man at all, but with a figure-head! But she should
have tried harder ... should never have broken under the strain!
Tears ran down her cheeks and her long blonde hair fell forward in
her eyes. Its teased locks, like cotton candy made her shudder as
she tried to support herself on her elbows. The pain in her
rectum was fierce, and she began to pitch forward propelled by
Erick's drubbing fingers.
"OH ERICK I CAN'T STAND IT ... YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME!!"
But she knew that he was deliberately trying to hurt her as much
as possible and the thought suddenly terrified her.
"AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!" she screamed as his fingers
shoved sharply and suddenly forward.
"Oh Lord let it be over soon, please!!" she mumbled, "let it
be over!!"
She felt his hard stomach pressing up against her buttocks,
and the thick warm shaft of his cock touching her back there and
then his fingers were sliding out abruptly with a small plopping
sound that signified that her stretched rectal passage was treated
to a relief she could not help sighing over. But then with a
dread certainty of what was about to happen, Sylvie felt the
hardness of Erick's cock running up and down the thin moist slit
that stretched from the soft open lips of her well-fucked pussy to
the base of her spine. Erick let his hands roam teasingly all
over her legs, her hips, her belly, and everywhere that he
touched, Sylvie felt her skin cringing away from him. She
whimpered softly, wondering seriously if she had died and gone to
hell. Then Erick's fingers slipped into the warm hair-fringed
lips between her thighs, the obscenely wriggling fingers slid
wetly upward into the thoroughly moistened slit of her pussy.
"HEY YOU'RE ALL WET ... NOW I KNOW YOU WANT IT!!" he
exclaimed jubilantly, "but want it or not, here it comes!!"
"NO NO NO ... I DON'T ... I DON'T!!" Sylvie declared, but
Erick's desire-hardened cock rose angrily against the tiny opening
of his blonde sister-in-law's anus, and he let its thickened girth
spread the soft yielding cheeks of her buttocks wide to admit him.
Sadistically, he began to rock and push against her, working
forward all the time, again pulling her helpless kneeling body
back toward him so that eventually the smooth rubbery tip of his
cock entered with a small sound into the tightly clenching
elasticity of the young blonde politician's wife's resisting anal
passage.
"By the way, Sylvie," Erick grunted evilly, "all that stuff I
told you about Tim and that girl, I just made it up!!"
"AAAAaaaaaaaarrghghghgh!!!" Sylvie twisted desperately,
trying her best to get away from the red hot searing pain in her
rectum. Erick's cock was sinking further and further into the
tight dark virgin passage of her anus and to the physical pain was
added a dreadful shameful pain of humiliation that hurt even more.
What had she ever done in her to deserve this, she wondered,
as weak and debilitated she tried to hold up under the terrible
scourging thing in her bowels. She could feel her husband's
brother beginning to warm to his task as the young lawyer began to
moan out his lust behind her. The hot touch of his hands on her
hanging breasts sickened her as slowly he began to knead the
trembling naked flesh with a harsh steady motion.
"OOOOOOOOOHHHHH it hurts terribly!!" she cried. "NO ONE HAS
EVERRRRRRHHHHH!!!! AAAAAAGHGHGHHH!"
"Fuck back!" he ordered, tersely. He had never felt anything
quite like Sylvie Cassidy's straining tormented rectum squeezing
all around his cock, and a wide lascivious grin spread across his
face. "Fuck back! There's more room in there!" he cried.
"OH GOD IT'S TOO BIG ... IT HURTS TOO MUCH!!"
She gasped for breath as the surging pole of flesh dug its
way deeper and deeper into her virgin rectum. Sylvie groaned as
Erick's loins smacked nakedly against the softness of her
trembling wide-held buttock cheeks. She heard him emit a harsh
whine of passion as she tried to obey his commands and began to
push hard. If he only would cum, it would an be over, she
realized and the thought was like a shining ray of hope in her
pain dazzled brain. With a gratified groan, Erick began to saw
rhythmically deep into the soft confines of Sylvie's helplessly
exposed anus. Gasping for air himself, he saw the end coming
soon, and began spearing savagely and shudderingly without the
slightest mercy deep into the softness of her palpitating back
passage. Beneath him he could feel her entire body quaking, and
as his hands slipped once more into the golden triangle of her
hair-fringed cunt, he felt her whole body give a lurch, and she
was moving against him in a new way. The sound she was making was
different, too, as though through the pain she was getting
something else, and frantically Erick began to slither deeper and
deeper inside her tortured rectum tantalizingly, more than he
thought it ever possible to go. His fingers plied the delicate
ragged edges of Sylvie's seeping cunt, and he watched mesmerized
as the reddish skin of her little round rectum drew back with his
cock each time he withdrew. His balls ached and tingled as he
smacked loudly up against bus sister-in-law's buttocks and his
cock felt like it was bursting with tiny sparks of hot intense
pleasure as Sylvie began to moan and undulate her buttocks back
against him.
By degrees the pain lessened and the stimulation of Erick's
fingers at her already inundated pussy began to wring from her a
crazy new kind of pleasure that made her bare her teeth and wag
her head from side to side. Her own brother-in-law was sodomizing
her! The very thought sent a huge ripple of perverse pleasure
throughout Sylvie's trembling body, bringing back a bit of that
feeling of rebellion that she had felt before. She tried to
reason against it, but now each time Erick's thrust of his swollen
surging prick shoved brutally forward, she would squirm back onto
the pain of his cock until she was soon through the pain and into
an all pervading masochistic ecstasy. The pain had become
pleasure by some mysterious transformation, the humiliation had
become joy and even triumph.
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH ... OOOOOOHHHHHHH!" Sylvie began to moan,
half in pain, half in pleasure. Erick pulled her far, far back
onto his thrusting cock, now swollen beyond anything he had ever
experienced before. It felt like a rock rising high inside
Sylvie's stretched rectum.
"OH ... OH ... OH BABY!! BABY ... SONNY'S GONNA CUM ...
SONNY'S GONNA CUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMM!" In his ecstasy, he used the
old family expression for him, the baby of them all, and letting
his head fall back he roared out, "IIIIIIIIIIIII ... IIIIIIIIIII
... FUCK BACK FUCK BACK FUCK FUCK ... SONNY'S CUMMMMMMMING!!!!"
And beneath his back breaking thrusts, Sylvie felt the first
splashing torrents of her brother-in-law's hot white semen
spluttering into the depths of her heretofore untouched anus, its
warmth surging through her naked abused body like a volcanic
eruption. The never before felt sensation sparked off her own
climax, and once more that night she screamed as a great rush of
pleasure ripped through her.
"OOOOOHHHHH NNNNN00000!" The hot thick sperm ran down the
crevice of her wide split buttocks to the slit of her nakedly
quivering pussy where it met her own fluid and the two mingled
warmly as they seeped down her legs and onto the carpet beneath
the sweat-glistening panting bodies of brother and sister-in-law.
"WHAT A LAY!!" Erick muttered as he fell across Sylvie's
spent nakedness, congratulating himself on his own enterprising
planning.
Chapter 7
Thelma Cassidy smiled for the photographers and kissed her
son affectionately. She was secretly pleased that her daughter-
in-law Sylvie was not present for the photographs, even though she
had told the family that she was deeply insulted that Sylvie
couldn't even get out of bed to see her.
"Cassidys don't get sick!" she told Tim, sternly, when he
tried to explain his wife's sudden illness to her. "At least not
when they're campaigning, they don't!!" she added.
Arlene stood nearby and thought she could not agree more.
How Sylvie could stay away on this important day was more than she
could fathom. They would be leaving Cederton that night, and the
bulk of campaigning was being done during the day. Thelma Cassidy
had flown in with her own entourage, looking fit and hearty for a
woman of her years, and the crowds gathered wherever they went,
anxious to see all of the famous family together. Only Sylvie was
absent, locked in the hotel room, complaining of fever and chills
and producing thermometers to prove it.
By night time the entire group was exhausted, and when it
came time to go to the airport, Tim and his mother waited in a
limousine outside the hotel for his wife to come down.
Arlene had made sure that everything was packed and had
helped Sylvie get ready.
As she watched Sylvie getting uncertainly to her feet, Arlene
had to admit that her cousin did look sick. But not feeling very
charitable toward her idol's wife and remembering the young
senatorial candidate's stiff hard cock rising in her trembling
cunt, scowled at Sylvie and inquired, "Such a sudden illness ...
what did you do last night to bring it on?"
Sylvie remained silent and tight-lipped. What on earth had
ever made her think that she and Arlene were as close as sisters?
Obviously there was no one in the entire world she could depend on
... not even herself! She wondered vaguely if Arlene suspected
that Erick had come to visit her, but then brushed it aside. No
one would ever suspect the depths of degradation she had been
dragged through by her evil brother-in-law!
"Probably screwing too much!" Arlene thought to herself
bitterly, imagining herself as the chaste and efficient wife of
Tim Cassidy. How much more suited for the job she was than her
younger cousin! The comparison was almost embarrassing. Poor
Tim, if only he knew. But once more, she reminded herself that
she couldn't possibly do such a thing as tell Tim what she knew
about Sylvie. She would have to suffer in silence while Tim went
along believing his wife Sylvie to be a faithful and obedient
wife!
"Well, let's go!" she said briskly. "You know if you'd
travel with your maid, you wouldn't need me to do so many of these
things for you!"
"Perhaps I don't need you to do anything for me!" Sylvie
suddenly snapped back. Just how much abuse was she supposed to
take from her cousin? She had brought her there to help her when
she needed her most but the older girl's presence thus far had
only served to aggravate things. She gathered herself up and
walked straight and tall in front of the startled brunette. She
began to call upon deep wells of courage inside her as she reached
the elevator and knew that within moments she would be facing her
eagle-eyed mother-in-law. She pushed Arlene to the back of her
mind, she would have to deal with her later. Right now she needed
all the strength she could muster.
Arlene followed in stunned silence and saw Sylvie into the
limousine. Then she went to the next waiting car and got in
beside the two brothers, Ron and Erick. She saw Erick put
something away in his pocket as she got in beside the two
brothers, and she wondered what it was. Obviously, the two
brothers were talking about something that they did not want her
to hear, for there was sudden silence as she got in.
"Sylvie any better?" Ron asked.
"Seemed much better," Arlene replied. "I think she'll be
fine after another day's rest."
"She's got that speech at the Woman's Club in Grandville,"
Ron muttered darkly. "She'd feel better by day after tomorrow!"
In the front car, Thelma Cassidy turned toward Sylvie as they
started off to the waiting airport and the two waiting private
planes.
"Tim tells me this illness came on suddenly last night! You
poor dear! Don't trust these hick doctors. When you get back to
Grandville, I'm sending Dr. Darling right over to you. He'll fix
you up!"
"Right, Tim?" Thelma gave her handsome blonde son's hand a
squeeze. Tim was looking out the window, thinking of how it would
feel to pass these same bleak streets not as Tim Cassidy, D.A. of
Grandville, but Senator Tim Cassidy.
"Tim needs you to be well for him, Sylvie," Thelma went on.
"Remember ... we Cassidys have a tradition to uphold. We are
before the public eye, and the public is very demanding.
Nevertheless, we will show our breeding and our backbone!
Sylvie set her teeth. "Yes, Mother Cassidy," she replied.
"Yes, I know, Mother Cassidy." Back between her sore buttocks she
still felt a horrible pain, a terrible memory of her evening with
her husband's brother. The lips of her vagina were sore and raw,
and so far the ointments she had applied had not helped at all.
She ached all over. It had not been hard to fake the
thermometers, and when the doctor had found her temperature
normal, he'd declared that these things come and go rapidly. "Had
three cases of this flu already this week, the only thing for it
really is bed and rest. But I'll give you a shot, and you can get
this prescription filled. Take the pills every four hours. I
must say I've never seen such a famous patient. My little girls
will be thrilled!"
"Take care of my boy, now Sylvie ... I'm sending that
darling, Dr. Darling right over ... he'll give you some of those
special shots he gives me, and you'll be fit as a fiddle. Make
sure that Tim gets some rest now. He looks tired, and oh, yes,
I'll see you for certain before the big dinner at the governor's
mansion." Thelma Cassidy headed away from them on the air-strip
toward her own plane and her waiting entourage. She waved gaily
to them after kissing them both goodbye, and paused to kiss her
other two boys, Ron and Erick, who stood nearby. Her veils blew
in the strong wind, and her still shapely legs moved briskly away
from them. They all seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and then
they moved toward the ramp of the airplane that would carry them
home to Grandville.
* * *
"Sorry to leave you sick in bed, Sylvie." Tim looked at his
wife's wan features as she lay propped on her own pillows in the
family home. Got to go to talk with the district leader over in
the south district. I may be late! Did Dr. Darling give you
those shots?" Tim put as much faith in the family doctor as his
mother did, and he was confident that his wife's sudden virus
would be over in record time. It was not like Sylvie to be sick,
and he was counting on her getting back into the swing of things
right away.
"Yes, Tim, I'll be fine by tomorrow. Don't worry, I'll make
that speech on highway beautification at the Woman's Club. I
promise you, I won't cancel out," Sylvie told him just what she
knew that Tim wanted to hear from her, and she wished that he
would go and leave her alone. She had spent the entire day in her
room, seeing no one at all. At midday she asked Frank to bring
her up a little toast and broth, but that was all. The older man,
her husband's valet, had been surprised when she did not ask to
see her maid Ella to perform that simple task, but he was more
than willing to comply with Mrs. Cassidy's wishes.
* * *
"I ... want ... a girl ... just ... like the ... girl ...
that married dear ... old DAD!" Ron pushed the advance button on
the tiny recording machine. "You ain't seen nothing yet!!" the
female voice spit out.
Ron was listening to the carefully edited tape that Erick had
made during his night with Sylvie at the Cederton Hotel. Across
from him sat his younger brother, Erick, also listening to the
lewd tape.
"OOOOOOOHHHHHHH!! Erick!! Erick!!" the voice cried out, and
there followed the unmistakable sounds of intense love-making:
"FUCK DEEPER! FUCK DEEPER DEEPER ... DEEPER!!!"
Ron heard the tape through, his face growing redder and
redder as the sounds of abandoned climax followed one tumbling
upon another, and when the obscene recording was finally over, he
groaned and sat back in his chair. He actually had only heard a
part of the tape in the limousine, but now he knew the full story.
It had been hard for him to believe that the woman on the tape was
his brother Tim's lady-like wife, but finally, it was impossible
not to recognize her voice, even though she was undergoing the
stresses and strains of making love with his baby brother Erick.
He sighed and sat all the way back in his chair, staring into
space in the direction of the book-lined library.
"What else was I to do?" Erick inquired. "Any man would have
done the same. She seemed to want it so bad ..."
"And you just gave her what she wanted ..." Ron finished for
him. "Do you expect me to believe that Sylvie has turned into
some kind of nympho?" he continued, glaring at his brother.
Erick hadn't been able to keep his conquest of Sylvie to
himself. His own motivation for letting his brother Ron in on it
was uncertain. He had felt a real need to have someone else know
how he had gotten into Sylvie's tight little blonde cunt, and the
only person in the world he could tell was his middle brother Ron.
Ron had asked him after all for a detailed account of Sylvie's
problem, and he had done nothing more than what his brother had
asked of him. It sewed Sylvie right, though, he thought, to have
Ron think she was a nympho ... maybe she was for all he knew ...
the way she'd been standing there on the dunes that day with her
fingers in her cunt while he and Ella, the maid, were at it in the
sand.
"Believe what you want!" Erick replied.
"Well, I don't believe it ... something must have happened
... something to make her act like that ... did you do anything
...???"
"WHO ME??" Erick hunched his shoulders innocently.
He suddenly felt angry. No one ever believed him. He was
tired of getting kicked around by his two older brothers. It had
been going on since he was a baby, and he felt just as rebellious
against it now as he had then.
"If you don't believe me, I'll prove it to you then!" he
declared.
"Well, I'm going to need more proof than that ... If
Sylvie's really sick going to have to get fixed up and fast."
"Meet me in her room in 2 hours. We'll talk to her
together," Erick suggested, a sudden idea coming to him.
"Why 2 hours?" Ron inquired.
"Oh, I have some things to take care of first," Erick
replied, breezily.
"All right, I'll go along with you." He looked at his watch.
Two hours, that would make it 8:45 P.M.
"I'll be there." Ron watched Erick swing out of the door.
Then he went over and locked the door carefully. He went back to
his chair and turned the tiny pocket recorder on once more.
"This is dynamite!" he thought, realizing that he would have
to destroy the incriminating tape of Sylvie's voice.
"IT'S GOOD!! IT'S GOOD!!" she cried out, and the background
noises were of such an obscene nature that Ron couldn't help but
be affected by it. He pushed the rewind button and listened from
the beginning, feeling his dormant penis begin to rise slowly but
surely with each passionate groan that me small speaker emitted.
And to think that's Sylvie, he thought, over and over again.
He had never been particularly fond of his brother Tim's wife, but
he had always had to admit that she was one of the best looking
women he'd ever laid eyes on ... if not the best looking woman.
Sometimes at night when finally he got to bed after a long day's
and evening's work, he would think of her ... especially in those
early days when she and Tim had first gotten married, and he knew
that they were screwing hell out of each other all of the time!
His own sex life was almost nonexistent, but it was rarely
that he bothered to think about it. His life was consumed by
other, more important things. He usually brushed away the little
girls and the society women who wanted to throw themselves at any
Cassidy, although from time to time he succumbed. Ron was
thinking that one of those times was near. His body felt in sore
need of release from the tensions it usually knew, and he was
going to have to go out and find himself a woman. Nothing
difficult about that ... it was only annoying because it took
precious time away from his other activities.
He tried to concentrate on just how he would have to deal
with his sister-in-law's sexual problem ... if it was a problem
... he wondered if Dr. Darling would be knowledgeable and
trustworthy enough to deal with this rather sensitive problem and
be able to treat her? But he could not continue to think
rationally as long as the tape was on. Yet, he continued to
listen to its lewd contents, while his burgeoning cock stirred
lustfully upright between his legs.
* * *
Ella backed away from Erick's roving fingers. He moved his
thumbs against the tips of her nipples where they lay beneath the
front of her uniform, pushing hard against them and pressing the
soft firm breasts back against her chest. She backed up against
the wall of the stable several yards away from the house, where
Erick had asked her to meet him. It was dark and she was cold,
the sea air rushing in over the land created a cool breeze that
people stuck in the heart of downtown Grandville were not lucky
enough to have on hot August nights. Ella looked up fearfully
into Erick's face. She remembered what Sylvie Cassidy had told
her about resisting Erick, no matter what. But she did not seem
to be able to stop his fingers at her breasts, and how could she
resist him, anyway? He was who he was, and she was who she was!
"I don't have to do what you say ..." she muttered in an
attempt at defiance. "You're not really my employer!" she gasped.
"Oh, but I am; it's the Cassidy Corporation that hires you,
love, and I'm a major stockholder, not to mention a vice-
president. So forget that little ploy." His hands moved along
the teenager's quaking hips and thighs. His loins pressed forward
against hers, and he felt her tremble as his hard cock pushed
against her belly.
"All that is beside the point, anyway, sweetheart. I'm not
going to fuck you again ... not tonight, anyway ... I just want
you to do something for me. Take this medicine up to Mrs.
Cassidy. The doctor just had it sent over. You tell her the
doctor said to take two teaspoons right away. Stay there until
she takes it."
Ella clasped the tiny brown bottle in her hand. She felt
relieved, but also strangely let down. If that was all he wanted
of her ... she could easily do that.
"But ..." she started. Erick's fingers moved upward toward
the dark haired split of her hidden pussy, his forefinger slipping
in under the elastic of her nylon panties, pushing forthrightly
against the tip of her hidden clitoris.
"Uuuuunhh!" she gasped, her whole body remembering the day on
the beach with the young lawyer. She had not even gotten a letter
from her boy friend in Vietnam yet, but she'd read an article
about how the soldiers carried on with Vietnamese girls. It made
her feel better about the sinful way she kept thinking of young
Erick Cassidy all the time.
"You take it right now, love. Hurry up!" Erick whispered
into her ear. "You and I will have our meeting soon enough!"
His finger made one last upward motion into the thin wet lips
of her minuscule vagina, and then he whisked it out, spun Ella
around, and, giving a pat on her tight little buttocks, sent her
off toward the house.
* * *
Sylvie lay in bed, a light crocheted shawl that she had
bought on her honeymoon trip to Italy tossed over her revealing
silk nightgown. She had dutifully taken the medicine that Ella
had brought up. It had a bitter taste, but Sylvie was sure that
it must contain something special to make her regain her strength.
Already, she seemed to feel a great deal better. Resting in bed
all the long day had helped her a lot, and now she didn't feel in
the least bit sleepy. She tried reading one of the many books she
kept at her bedside, but, though she riffled through several of
them, none seemed to strike the right chord. She could feel her
mind as well as her body mending now as she managed to assimilate
the horrible things that she had endured with Erick into the
thoughts that seemed a bit more formulated. She felt that she had
probably paid off her debt to Erick ... the price had been
terrible, but at least it was over. He could not help but be
satisfied by what he had done to her. She would prove herself to
be as strong as any Cassidy by getting over it ... by carrying on
with her life as though it had never happened. She had made a
dreadful mistake, and her own body had deceived her, making her
act in ways she had never dreamed of, but now, all desire was
slaked from her system ... she thought. What a relief to know
some kind of peace from those inner torments.
Sylvie picked up the latest copy of WEEKLY magazine, and
looked at her own picture on the cover. Her fine perfect features
were as exciting as any movie star's, and for once, Sylvie felt a
surge of pride as she remembered that she was more than a movie
star ... she was the wife of Tim Cassidy, a position that held the
glamour of stardom, but also held all the importance of being the
spouse of a man who was serving the country.
She put the book down and closed her eyes, thinking that she
must somehow have strained them. The picture had suddenly blurred
out of focus. She ran her fingers through the light weight of her
long, beautifully brushed blonde hair, feeling suddenly warm all
over, so warm in fact that she had to remove the shawl from her
shoulders, and indeed she felt like removing her nightgown. Her
tongue was thick in her mouth, and suddenly she felt completely
parched. Sylvie jumped up and hurried into the bathroom, where
she removed her gown, slipping on a shorter one that lay neatly
folded in a chest. Then she drew herself a large glass of water
and drank it down, noting it did little to make her feel cooler.
She stepped under the shower and turned on the cold water. The
feel of the water on her deep peach toned naked body began to
inflame her. Each drop was like an obscene caress that stimulated
her beyond belief, making her cry out in an acute agony of desire.
"What's happening ... what's happening to me!!" she wondered
aloud, hurrying from the shower and going to her medicine cabinet
where she withdrew a small tin of salve. She dipped her fingers
into the salve and then spread it onto her tingling and engorged
nipples. Then she put a little bit down between her legs, rubbing
upward into the cleft of her swollen and oddly stimulated pussy
folds. Instead of soothing her as she had expected the calming
salve to do, it had exactly the opposite effect, and she was
startled to find herself rubbing against the velvet of her inner
membranes with a pressure that became more and more furious
"OH MY GOD!" she whimpered, "MY GOD!!!"
Everything seemed to be coming apart. She felt light as a
feather, one moment, and then she felt heavy and lethargic. When
she tried to focus on something, it appeared to move and shift and
she was forced to close her eyes tightly. Little shivers began to
traverse her half-clad body and she ripped off the shorter
nightgown and finally fell to the floor of her dressing room which
gave onto the bathroom. She just had to get something inside her
... something that would satisfy her!
Panic stricken, the thought entered her mind that she might
die if she did not have surcease from the waves of shuddering lust
that spread through her, she rolled nakedly over the deep pile
rug, rubbing herself against the grain of the fiber, until she
reached the wall and the intercom system. She knelt and pressed
the buzzer that would sound in the servants' quarters. Frank
answered almost immediately.
"FRANK ... GET UP HERE RIGHT AWAY ... I NEED HELP!!" she
cried in desperation.
"YES M'AM!" Frank turned from the intercom and passing the
curious Ella, he made his way toward the back stairway. He did
not know what might be wrong with Mrs. Cassidy, but he was
prepared to offer any assistance that he could, and he hurried up
the stairs, panting at the untoward effort.
Frank entered the spacious bedroom that Tim and Sylvie
Cassidy shared and seeing no one gravitated toward the dressing
room. There he was stunned to see Sylvie Cassidy's flushed and
naked body rolling and twisting spread-eagled upon the rug.
In her hands she held the thick phallus shape of a gilded
candle; one of several that were placed about the white and gold
dressing room for decorative effect. In desperation she was
trying to fit the thick instrument up into her raging vagina. She
twirled her entire body upwards and a little to the side, her legs
wide-spread as the pointed end of the candle appeared to be stuck
just inside her widely yearning pussy.
"UUUUUUUuuuuuunghh!" Sylvie's terror-filled eyes turned to
Frank who stood in the doorway, with an equally alarmed expression
on his face. She seemed to be imploring him with her eyes to come
and help her get the large candle inside her.
" FRANK ... FRANK ... FRANK ... HELP ... YOU'VE GOT TO HELP
ME ... I'VE GOT TO RAM IT IN ... I'VE GOT TO RAM IT INSIDE ... OH
DEAR GOD ... OH OH OH OHHH!"
Frank stepped hesitantly into the room. Nothing in his many
years of experience with the Cassidy family had prepared him for
this moment, and yet he felt that he had to rise to the occasion.
He tried to mink of what was the best thing to do. He had been
thoroughly trained in the fine art of serving, and this was a true
test of his mettle. Finally his mind made up, he moved forward
and grabbed hold of the candle, removing it from Sylvie's hands
and with a sudden thrusting motion twirling it in the flooded pit
of his employer's golden blonde fringed cunt and pushed it
steadily until it began to slide with a lewd slippery noise into
her rampaging cunt.
Sylvie felt the cold hard edged object entering her, filling
her and with alarm she realized that it was making her cum, cum in
an entirely different way than she had ever cum before. Her heavy
well-formed breasts jiggled upon her chest, sprouting tiny orgasms
of their own in the breasts that spread and electrified her entire
body. Frank was pushing and pulling now, kneeling beside his
climaxing mistress, hoping that he had made the right decision.
"MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE!" she commanded of Frank. The
orgasm was not enough, she had to have another immediately. She
twisted and turned against the rising candle between her thighs
and then she knew that she would have to have something alive
inside her.
"FRANK ... Frank!!!" she implored. YOU ... I HAVE TO HAVE
YOU!!!"
Her fingers were already reaching out for the elegantly
tailored front of Frank's trousers, where she found the buttons of
his fly and began to undo them. "I can feel something in there,
Frank, I know I do!!" she said wildly. "Frank ... YOU HAVE GOT A
BIG HARD JUICY COCK!" she cried triumphantly, withdrawing what was
truly just as she said, a good sized penis of satisfactory
hardness for Sylvie's purposes. The drugged young woman, moved
the startled servant's thick uncircumcised cock with demanding
precision, thrusting the foreskin back until the blood engorged
head popped through.
"You ... uh ... Mrs. Cassidy!" The older man's face was
flushed, and he could not quite get out the words he wanted to
say, for Sylvie was pushing him down to the floor, and mounting
him, and even if he had decided to resist, he would never have
been able to get away from her determined hands pushing him down,
and her strong legs spread on either side of his up-thrust cock.
* * *
Arlene pressed her ear to the study door, trying to figure
out what the strange, tiny sounds were. Instinct told her she
wanted to know more about just what Ron and his brother, Erick
were up to.
Ron turned off the tape recorder and looked at his watch.
Only 8:30 P.M. but he saw no reason why he should wait until 8:45
to meet his other brother Erick there, he could probably get to
the bottom of the whole incident much better without the help of
his bothersome brother. As he stood up, he had some difficulty
pressing down the thick bulge of his lust-hard cock, but he
managed somehow and then placed the recorder in a niche in the
wall of the library between two thick books. No one would be
coming into the room until morning he knew, and he would return
later that night to destroy the lewd message that lay within the
coiled mechanism of the recorder. He left the room with a
distracted expression on his face as he climbed the stairs, he
hoped that his decision to let Tim Cassidy go alone to meet with
the District Leader had been a wise one. There were times when he
wished that he could be several places at once, and this was one
of them. He couldn't very well have let this important thing
about Sylvie go until later, though. Time was of the essence!
Downstairs, Arlene slipped into the study and closed the door
behind her.
There was no answer to his knock on Sylvie's door and Ron let
himself in. Before he had reached the half-way point in the room
he heard the loud grunting and groaning that came from the
dressing room. Hurriedly he rushed to see what was going on and
stood peering down at the strangest sight he had ever seen.
His brother's wife, Sylvie, bounced and gyrated nakedly over
the valet's beet red cock, spearing her own tingling pussy with
the rock-hard penis as she lunged up and down upon it. Behind,
Frank was attempting to thrust a gilded candle in between her
flexing cushiony buttocks, to the encouragement of Sylvie's
shrieking lewd words. "PUSH IT IN FRANK ... STICK IT IN MY
ASSSSSSS!!!" she cried, tears streaming down her face.
Dutifully Frank pushed the candle in as hard as he could,
worming it around as Sylvie's clawing fingers were instructing him
to do. Gleaming wetness seeped down from her gyrating cunt as she
rode the older gray haired man's rampant cock with faster and
faster lunges. Her blonde hair flew all over her head as she
worked, perspiring so freely that she inundated the valet with
drops of her sweat.
Ron stood petrified for a long moment. All that Erick had
said was true ... and it was for worse than he thought.
Nevertheless, Ron had to admit that he had never seen a lewder
sight in all his life. It was very unusual and it sent shivers up
and down his spine, and he could almost feel the hair on the nape
of his neck rising. As for his thickly swollen cock, there was no
doubt that the desire he was feeling was directed toward the
silken blonde performer in the middle of the dressing room floor
... his broker Tim's wife!
At that moment Sylvie looked up and saw him. She didn't
recognize him, only saw a man standing there. "WHO IS IT?" she
said, and then added, "WHOEVER IT IS COME ... COME AND HELP ME ...
HELP ME!!!" The madness still swirled in her belly and in her
brain and she felt like ants were crawling all over her, creating
a tingling lusting state that only rubbing and fucking would help.
With only a second's hesitation, Ron freed his thickly engorged
prick from his pants and moved into the room. He would do it to
her if she wanted, and after they would see what had to be done.
But right now he would do it. He had to!!
Ron saw Frank trying to scramble out from under Sylvie's
determined body, his eyes full of fear now that he had seen Ron
enter the room. With a groan, Ron told the older man that it was
all right. Then he bent and lifted Sylvie up, and Frank stood up
beside them. Sylvie clambered against Ron now, her legs trying to
climb his, her arms wound around his neck, her tongue thrusting
forward into his mouth. She pressed and pushed hard against him,
begging him to take her.
"Tim ... Tim ... is it you ... oh fuck me darling ... Tim,
fuck me ... fuck me!!!"
Ron picked her legs up and bracing himself against the wall,
thrust her gaping wide cunt hard down upon his exposed hardness.
His speeding cock drove hard, up and up into her wide-held pussy
as her legs clasped around his waist. He bumped his loins forward
to start a hard screwing motion into her tormented cunt that made
her keen and croon loudly.
"DON'T FORGET THE BACK ... FUCK ME IN THE BACK TOO!!! OH
SOMEONE PLEASE DO IT IN THE BACK!!" she implored.
Frank had stood by uncertainly until this moment, and then he
stepped forward. As a younger man, Frank had known many young
women, but none who had made him feel what Mrs. Cassidy had. He
was anxious now to please her as he parted her already wide-spread
buttock cheeks, and finding that reddish brown little hole that
had ached so for the feel of the gilded candle, he thrust his own
cock upward into its open mouth.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" Sylvie cried out. She could feel herself
sandwiched between the two men, Ron in front and Frank the valet
in back. She was shamelessly suspended between the two standing
men as the two hotly churning pecks filled her vagina and her
rectum, giving her at last something of the desire quenching
relief that she sought. The drug had taken its toll coursing
through her veins, spreading and continuing its evil work
onrushing through her system and bringing her to new peaks of
frenzy.
She yanked Ron's head to her and kissed his lips, his nose,
his eyes. Her tongue slavered over his face. She caught a
glimpse of his blonde hair and once more inquired, "Tim, oh, Tim,
is that you?" OOOOOoooooh let me cum again, just once more!!!"
she cried out, but she couldn't seem to climax again ... her body
was left always at the edge of it, hanging on by a thread but the
orgasm never came.
Ron's powerful young body smashed deep groans from his
distraught sister-in-law as eagerly he levered up ramming his
thickly engorged cock as deep as it would lunge upward into her
hungrily clasping pussy. Sylvie strained against him, wanting him
deeper, into the insanely quivering cunt she possessed!
She ground her buttocks down onto the inward thrusting penis
that speared her willingly open rectum. She felt hot sparks of
desire tracing along its nether path between her trembling naked
buttocks.
"OOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhhhghghdlghhh!" But still she did not cum.
It was always a second away. The pupils of her large blue eyes
were dilated as she felt Frank's plunging cock stiffen without
warning, spewing its white hot juice far into the obscenely
milking walls of her defenseless anus.
"NOT YET NOT YET NOT ..." she cried, but the older man's
spending cock was already limp and exhausted from its call to
duty, and behind her Frank felt the strong sensations of his
climax diminishing as his limp prick slid wetly from between Mrs.
Tim Cassidy's buttocks. He stepped back and tried to straighten
himself out, and when he looked up from his buttoning, he saw
Erick Cassidy standing in the room. He was laughing merrily,
watching the buffeting forms of his brother and sister-in-law
Sylvie as they furiously gyrated against each other, Sylvie's
widespread legs clasping behind his standing brother.
"So you came early?" Erick said, pleased with the little
scene that he himself had caused. The drug had done its work
well. It was supposed to but Erick had never used it before. It
had been given to him by the son of the Ambassador to Jabor, a
tiny middle eastern country where the men often used such things
to bring them mindless delights with unwilling women.
"Perhaps I could have a go too?" he inquired politely,
brushing Frank away. The two brothers stared at each other for a
brief second over Sylvie's shuddering shoulder, and then Sylvie's
voice awakened them.
"OH DON'T STOP ... DON'T STOP!!! FUCK ME YOU BASTARDS ...
MAKE ME CUM!!!"
His blonde hair dripping wet, Ron pulled away from the wall
and pulling his older brother's adulterous wife with him, he lay
down upon the rug. His legs felt weak and shaky after holding up
Sylvie's weight all that time, but he still felt a need to
complete the intensely satisfying fucking he was getting, so he
kept her smothering nakedness over him without releasing his cock
from her tightly clenching pussy. Her smooth legs lay spread over
him as he bucked upward into her squirming body. Her tongue
thrust mercilessly into his open mouth as behind them Erick
lowered his half naked body. He had removed his pants and shorts
and clad only in a sports shirt and his shoes and socks, he
replaced Frank's cock inside Sylvie's burning rectum with his own.
"Seems to me I've been here before," he mused to himself, as
once more he felt the tightly clenching rectal muscles massaging
all around his surging prick, making it tingle with a fierce
pleasure that sent him into a mindless ecstasy.
"OOOOOOOOOOHHHHH YESSSSS ... THIS IS THE WAY ... THIS IS THE
WAY ... YESSS!" Sylvie kept groaning. The torture was
miraculously subsiding and the strange sensation of tingling joy
was again seeping through her defenselessly aroused body. The
outrageous debasement and subjugation that she was undergoing
aroused odd masochistic delights that surged through her
bloodstream rivaling the drug with their intensity. Her strong
hips commenced rhythmic gyrating motions an abandoned harmony with
the increasing speed of the two rising cocks of her husband's two
brothers inside her ... one spreading upward into her tight,
slippery cunt, the other prodding high between her buttocks into
her rectum. She lay writhing between them ... Ron on the bottom,
Erick on top, face downward, her naked breasts pressing into Ron's
suit-clad body. He had not had time to undress, but it didn't
seem to matter, as he gave himself up to the strange sensations of
sharing Tim's wife with his other brother!
Sylvie thought of herself as a prisoner ... a defenseless
prisoner ... the mental mechanism that would produce her orgasm
worked swiftly inside her ... she was trapped between tow
battering lust-inspired animals. Her breasts were being pulled
and twisted, her lips smashed against two mouths that fought for
her favors. Never had she been so royally treated. She mewled
and whined at them, shaking her buttocks backwards up at Erick and
screwing her loins down onto Ron as the two rising cocks met and
passed each other against the thin membrane of flesh that
separated the drugged blonde's vagina from her rectum.
"COCK ... COCK ... COCK!" she moaned ... OOOOHHHH COCK ...
COCK ... COCK ... COCKKK!"
Chapter 8
Tim Cassidy thanked the chauffeur and bid him goodnight,
moving with his swift long stride into the house. Arlene greeted
him at the door. "This had better be good!" he told his wife's
cousin. He didn't know why but she was beginning to annoy him
more and more. "Never, never should have fucked her," he added to
himself as he followed the comely brunette into the study. "Not
at this stage of the game!"
Arlene smiled at Tim as he stood defiantly watching her in
the study. How handsome he is, she thought, how she longed to
feel those strong arms around her again ... that thick cock of his
blotting out every thought in her brain. How magnificent he is!
Like a ferocious golden lion'
"WELL!" Tim growled, "I didn't come out of that meeting to
meet a silly-assed broad, you know!" he couldn't help losing his
temper as the smiling girl kept on looking at him like that.
"You said it was important ..." he continued.
Arlene bridled, the spark gone from her eyes. How dare he
talk to her like that ... to HER ... She was the one who really
understood him, who really loved him ... who could really do all
that needed to be done for the Cassidy name! He would eat his
words once he knew everything about that little bitch he called a
wife! She was unfit to be Tim Cassidy's wife, cousin or no
cousin'
Silently, but with trembling hands, Arlene got down the
little recorder from the hiding place she had finally found after
half an hour's looking. She pushed the "on" button and moved away
from him, uncertain of just what his reaction would be to the
edited tape she had listened to with burning ears a few minutes
earlier. It was afterward that she had called him and told him he
must return immediately to the house.
"I ... want ... a girl ... just ... like the ... girl ...
that married ... dear old ... DAD! ... You ain't seen nothing
yet! ... OOOOOOOOOhhhhh ... Erick! Erick! ... Fuck deeper fuck
deeper ... FUCK DEEPER ... DEEPER!!!"
Suspiciously Tim listened to the obscene tape. At first he
thought that Arlene was just playing some kind of joke on him ...
that she thought he might become aroused by such a thing, and then
the realization gradually dawned on him that it was his wife's
voice, it was Sylvie on the tape, and that the lewd coupling
sounds and noises were absolutely real. The recording appeared to
be one of his wife and his brother Erick screwing themselves
silly!
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" he growled angrily, staring
menacingly at Arlene, who was cringing against the wall. She had
the definite feeling that she had made a dreadful mistake.
"WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?" HAS ANYONE ELSE HEARD IT?" Tim
shook with rage, his face pale and white, his blonde hair
disheveled and unruly.
"WHERE IS SYLVIE?" he finally asked, realizing that Arlene
was too frightened to speak.
Arlene motioned upstairs, and watched, terrified as Tim
whirled out the door and headed up the stairs taking them two at a
time.
* * *
A shudder of wanton delight surged through Sylvie's raw,
nerve tingling body as her breasts heaved and quivered down upon
Ron's chest, their hardened nipples digging into his suit top.
She fucked insanely with him and his younger brother, feeling
blissfully grateful to them ... she did not fully know who they
were, but hoped that one of them was her husband, Tim. Because at
last it was coming to a crashing roar overtaking her like a
breathtaking tidal wave of searing, indescribable elation, roaring
through her madly aroused body, filling her nakedly striving cunt,
as the lips worked and sucked at Ron's hard penis and shattering
through her rectum as Erick struck again and again within its
moist confines.
Her breath came in rasping and short frenzied gasps as the
powerful lightening-like sensations jolted her from the tip of her
blonde curls to her desperately contracting toes.
"Look at her go ..." Frank, the valet, mumbled as he stood
nearby. He would be ready to perform if called upon again, he
thought, but it looked as if it was all going to be over soon.
Tim rushed into the bedroom and then hurried to the dressing
room, his face ashen white as he heard his wife's voice.
"OOOOOHHHH GOD ... OH GOD ... I'M CUMMMMMM1NG ...
CUMMMMMMMINGGG ... OOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!" she wailed as the two
brother's cocks pierced her tender undulating young body and they
began to spew forth their jets of viscid fluid, spurting white and
hot against her inner walls, plunging and expanding, swirling and
pouring their last lust-driven load into her quaking, clenching
orifice.
A great burst of showering stars exploded inside her, racking
her entire being with an agonizing ecstasy that sent her brain
whirling madly. She felt herself blacking out, falling, falling,
falling as the torrential rain of pleasure granted her drugged
body a much needed rest.
Frank fled out the service door of the dressing room the
moment that he saw Tim Cassidy appear. But the brothers, Erick
and Ron, only saw him when it was much too late to do anything
about it. They saw him as they were bodily lifted up from the
limp, swooning body of their brother's satiated blonde wife.
"YOU FUCKERS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO SYLVIE?? WHAT HAVE YOU
DONE TO HER??? FIRST THAT DISGUSTING TAPE AND NOW THIS!!!"
There seemed to be now no answer at all, or at least the
answer was self-evident, and both brothers knew the ludicrous
position of being caught with their spent cocks lewdly hanging
out, still panting and puffing from their adulterous activities.
They both trembled as their older brother clapped them each
on the neck, with a superior strength born of his fury. Angrily
he knocked their heads together, and flung them from him. They
went sprawling across the room, and then scrambled to their feet.
"GET OUT!!! GET OUT OF MY WIFE'S DRESSING ROOM!" Tim cried.
"I'LL DEAL WITH BOTH OF YOU LATER!!"
The 2 brothers fled the room, running through the bedroom and
out the bedroom door. There on the landing they bumped into
Arlene who was curiously waiting to see what was happening.
When Ron saw Arlene he knew that she was the one who had
called Tim and had him listen to the tape. He knew it without a
word having been spoken. Erick rushed to his room to put on some
clothes, having left his pants in his sister-in-law's bedroom.
Filled with a horrible combination of remorse and anger,
frustration and humiliation by his older brother, Ron grabbed
Arlene by the arm and propelled her along the hall until they had
reached his room.
"Get in!" he told her, which caused her to tremble in terror.
"Get in, you sneaking bitch!"
* * *
When Sylvie came to she felt the soothing ripples warm water
all around her bruised and aching body. Her swollen breasts were
being softly massaged and gentle fingers moved over her naked body
in the warm soft water. The sweet scent of her favorite perfume
rose to her nostrils and as she opened her eyes she looked
directly into Tim's deep blue eyes.
"How are you!!" His deep familiar voice filled her with a
deep sense of well-being. Far from a casual question, he really
meant it from the bottom of his heart, she knew. His hands
continued to caress her beneath the water, and she saw that she
was in her own bath tub. She couldn't remember it all, but
gradually some details of her recent ordeal came back to her
confused mind.
She opened her mouth to speak. "Dar ... darling ..." she
whispered. His hands moved slowly along her thighs, touching her
everywhere beneath the water, slipping into the warmed split of
her abused pussy, up across her soft belly, moving along her
golden body as though she were a precious art work that he was
only just appreciating for the very first time.
"You'll tell me later ... now you must rest ..." Tim
commanded sternly, and moments later he was lifting her from the
deep alabaster tub and carrying her over to the thick fluffy
towels where he dried her carefully. Then he took her, still
wrapped snugly in a large white towel into the bedroom where he
placed her upon the bed, ever so carefully as though she were a
mermaid he had just found upon the beach.
He brought fragrant oils and lotions from her dressing room
and began to anoint her naked smoothness with them. His hands
worked their healing effect upon Sylvie as she lay, stunned as
much by her husband's quiet outpouring of love, as by all that had
happened to her.
After a long while she began to talk, and when she did, she
told him everything, from the very beginning, leaving out no
details and sparing herself not at all in the moving confession
that sometimes brought tears to her blue eyes.
Tim asked only one question. "Is this the medicine bottle?"
he inquired, lifting the small brown bottle to his nose and
sniffing it. He recognized the pungent smell instantly as the
liquid that an ambassador's son had tried to give him as a gift,
but that he had refused. He knew that its powers were purported
to be very great and suspected just who had placed it in a
medicine bottle and had it brought to his wife.
His eyes smoldered with a deep rooted anger, but he said
nothing. "I've been terribly neglectful!" he said, letting his
eyes roam over the startlingly fresh beauty of his wife's
gleaming, naked body before him on the bed.
Very slowly he undressed, and climbed onto the bed beside
her. Sylvie felt his arms, strong and tender, wrapping themselves
around her, and felt his kisses begin to cover her face, her neck,
her arms, the tips of her breasts, her now quivering belly, her
thighs, her legs, her feet, her toes, and back up again. Now his
tongue was lapping subserviently along her nakedness, so lightly
that it was like butterfly's wings fluttering all over her. She
felt her abused body responding to his tender caresses, and
realized that her hopes and dreams of the past few months were
finally coming true.
"Oh, Tim!" she sighed, turning suddenly toward him. Tim
could feel the split of his wife's long, silky legs pressing
against his hipbone, rubbing a little against his skin. Then her
fingers moved lightly up and down the shaft of his hard cock and
she held his wildly erect penis in her hand squeezing it tenderly
and Tim abandoned himself to the aching desire he felt for his
wife. Sylvie rubbed her moistening blonde pussy up against her
district attorney husband, beginning to moan softly to herself.
The aftermath of her drugged session had made her feel a
sleepiness that translated into languorous sensuality, and she
felt Tim's cock jumping and twitching in her hand as he turned a
little towards her, his long legs intertwined with hers as he
groped for her golden brown breasts. Finding them, his fingers
moved quickly pulling at the small mounds of sensitive flesh until
the nipples were hard and tight. He kissed her so hard that
Sylvie had to gasp for breath.
"OH, God, Tim!" she cried. She moved her whole body up
against him now, her hand slipping the foreskin of her husband's
cock up and down more and more and more rapidly. There was
nothing so sweet as the desire she felt for the man she had
married. None of his brothers had been able to duplicate this
sensation.
"JESUS!" Tim groaned. "I ... I want to be inside of you ...
Are you ... Can I ...?" He wondered if his wife was in any
condition for lovemaking, after all she had been through. But he
wanted her so badly that he could hardly contain himself.
"MMMmmmmmm ... Yes ... Tim ... Tim, please ... I've been
waiting so long ... so long ... AAAaaaaaaaaah!" Sylvie moaned and
writhed against the young politician's hip and he could feel her
hair-fringed pussy soaking wet against him. She clutched at him
wildly, and suddenly Tim realized that she was cumming right there
against his leg. The very thought of it almost made him reach a
climax himself, but he held back just in time, as Sylvie fell back
against his arms, her passion only momentarily drained.
"I WANT YOU ... JESUS ... I WANT YOU SO BAD!!" Tim cried as
much to himself as to her. With his long legs he parted Sylvie's
limp unresisting thighs. She was all softness after her orgasm
and waves of lust traversed Tim's throbbing cock as he placed it
in between her legs. Searching out the pink ragged opening of her
flowery pussy, he positioned himself and let the blunt tip of his
prick slide upward.
Sylvie shivered under him and suddenly was pushing hard. His
pulsating cock was slipping all the way up into the tightness of
her perfumed cunt. It sank deeper and deeper, filling her
waiting, unresisting pussy with all of its potent hardness, and
Sylvie grunted and opened her legs wide to receive him.
"OH SYLVIE ... YOU FEEL SO ... SO ...!" words failed him as
he began to fuck into his wife with rhythmic strokes. Never had
he felt anything like this before, even when they were first
married. They began to move together, spurred on by each other's
cries.
"OH NEVER STOP, never stop ... I love you so ... I love you
... wonderful ... wonderful ... your sweet cock is making me
cuuuummmmmmmmmm ooooooh IIIIIIIIII LOVE YOOOOOOOOOOUUUU!"
The muscles of their young bodies were tightened to meet the
demands of their lust. Had anyone seen them, they would have been
awed by the warmth and tenderness of their intense desire.
Then Tim could feel himself cumming. Everything in him
merging with everything in her. His rock hard cock was immersed
in softness and wetness and tightness and he was stiffening and
the white fluid of his orgasm starting its projectile motion
toward Sylvie's waiting womb.
"AAAAAHHHH!" The pleasure was sharp and he bit his lip as he
spun madly into the vortex of his orgasm, wrenching him over onto
his wife's body, as the hard splashes rose against her shivering
pussy. Sylvie was meeting his orgasm with her own, releasing it in
a head-on collision that sent them whirling together toward
another world where politics and family duty were unheard of.
"OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH TIM DARLINGGGGGG!" she wailed arms and
legs thrashing as she tipped her receptive loins upward to receive
as much of her husband's life-giving force as possible.
As soon as Tim had cum he knew that he was ready to start
again. "Got to do it again!" he cried, moving his already
swelling cock about in her drenched warm tunnel of her vagina.
"You'll never have to complain again, honey ... I'll fuck you
until you beg me to stop!"
Chapter 9
"We are just getting the returns from the 9th district. Yes
... yes ... and I think that our computers have definitely been
proven right, folks. TIM CASSIDY IS THE WINNER! TIM CASSIDY IS
OUR NEW SENATOR! In a few moments we'll have a word with the
winner, but right now, here is the word from Senator Gearson who
seems to have lost his bid for reelection to the Senate to the
young Tim Cassidy.
"Do you have anything to say, Senator?"
"I'd like to thank all the people that worked so hard for me
... and to congratulate the winner!" The elderly senator smiled
wanly, and the picture slowly faded out, while another took its
place.
"Here he comes now! He's coming now!" The announcer's voice
spoke hysterically. The sound of cheering had already come
thundering through and was filling the microphones and a throng of
hundreds danced up and down at the downtown Cassidy headquarters.
Finally Tim Cassidy and his entourage could be seen advancing
toward the bank of microphones. His wife Sylvie was directly
beside him and he kept her there with his arm around her waist as
together they moved slowly through the crowd. In front of them
making room for their passage were the 2 Cassidy brothers, Ron and
Erick, proudly beaming in recognition of the fact that their
brother was now a Senator. Behind them came a beaming brunette,
Arlene, Sylvie's cousin who kept her eyes trained on Ron Cassidy
as she walked.
She had set her cap for the oldest brother but it was the
middle brother Ron who had captured her, controlling her body and
soul with his strange disciplinary measures.
Upstairs in the private rooms reserved for the family, Mrs.
Thelma Cassidy along with a group of about a dozen camp followers
watched it all on her color set. She was a trifle miffed that Tim
had insisted she stay upstairs during the big moment, but she knew
her turn with the cameras and the photographers would come later,
so it wasn't so bad. Besides ... they had won... Her boy was on
his way to the great things she had always predicted for him.
She watched with approval as the tightly knit group gathered
around Tim as he made his acceptance speech.
"Through thick and through thin, the Cassidys stick it out!"
she murmured to the elderly woman who was her son's secretary and
Mrs. Grayson agreed.
"That girl is turning into a real Cassidy," Thelma said,
noting Sylvie's beaming expression as Tim spoke. Only Sylvie knew
that her husband's hand, hidden by the brothers and other members
of the group behind them, was rhythmically massaging her willing
buttocks as he gave one of the most charming speeches of his
career. It was their secret symbol that meant they would
celebrate the victory that night in their own manner, close in
each other's arms, his hard cock locked in the tightly clinging
orifice of her obedient and faithful pussy.
Arlene felt Ron's arm around her and looked adoringly up into
his eyes. "We've won!" he told her. "Nothing can stop us now ...
not with our organization!"
"Fucking and sucking and wheeling and dealing, Cassidy
style," Erick Cassidy thought. "Nothing can beat it!"
Chapter 10
Sylvie couldn't imagine a more beautiful day, and she hummed
a little bit to herself as she walked around her husband's office.
She paused in front of his window and looked out at the Capitol
Building a short distance away. Sylvie could hear him discussing
an important letter with his secretary, Mrs. Grayson, so she
stopped humming and stood quietly so as not to distract him.
My husband, the senator! she thought to herself. Things had
worked out so very well, and Tim had already been re-elected to
the Senate by a grateful and admiring constituency. Sylvie knew
that the next step for Tim Cassidy would be the White House. A
little chill went up and down her spine as she thought of it, and
once more she congratulated herself on having stuck out those dark
days before Tim had been elected. Those days, when she had been
so prey to self doubts that she had succumbed to the unwanted
advances of her husband's younger brothers.
She tried to shake off the dreadful memory of what she had
gone through back at the Grandville family meeting place. After
all, it had all happened many years before, and there had been
hardly any friction whatsoever between members of the family since
then.
Sylvie knew that Tim would never feel exactly the same toward
his two younger brothers after he caught them taking advantage of
her helpless, drug-induced state that lurid day in the dressing
room. Yet, the amorous reconciliation between husband and wife
had almost made the terrible events leading up to it seem
worthwhile. Sylvie smiled as she looked out at the budding trees
... it was spring and her blood stirred lazily in her veins. She
could feel a lingering sensuality in her shapely limbs as she
recalled her husband's lewd caresses of the night before. She
doubted if any other senator's wife could boast of such fervent
attention from her husband! Now, instead of neglecting her the
way he had when he was first getting started, he insisted upon
frequent and heated sessions with her, pulling her down with him
at the oddest moments, or pushing everyone out of his office so
that they could lie together on the soft leather couch against the
wall and writhe nakedly together in the midst of a busy afternoon.
Sylvie blushed at the thought, but it was so wonderful to
feel desired by her dynamic husband, and she felt she had changed
because of his attentions, becoming much more contented and
womanly. Her slender, well proportioned body had grown accustomed
to the increasingly intense delights that her husband treated it
to, and Sylvie often thought of herself as a wanton pagan ... a
blonde goddess of love. Only this love was not sinful or evil,
since she indulged in it with her own wonderful husband!
"Sylvie!"
She jumped at the sound of her husband's voice and turned
toward him.
"Yes, darling," she replied, looking at his thick blond hair
and those piercing but kindly blue eyes and the strong chin that
she loved so well and that were already famous throughout the
world.
"Daydreaming?" he asked. "Penny for 'em."
Sylvie blushed and looked at Mrs. Grayson who was standing
nearby. The older woman smiled and turned to leave the office
carrying her note pad with her.
"Thinking about the good fucking I gave you last night?" he
asked, even before Mrs. Grayson had left the room.
"TIM!" Sylvie cried, nonplused.
The door closed behind Mrs. Grayson and Tim rose to catch his
wife around the waist. He held her close up against him, so close
that Sylvie could feel every ridge of his rising penis against her
softly trembling belly.
"Yes," she admitted. "Yes, I was thinking of that!" she
cried.
"Want some more?" he inquired, teasingly, holding her tighter
still, until Sylvie could feel the beginning of that weakness that
she often got before she gave in completely to the mounting
strength of her desire.
"Tonight ... as soon as you come home!" she replied, kissing
him softly on the neck, her arms twined about his neck. As much
as she enjoyed making love with her senator husband, she couldn't
help feeling funny when he suggested that they do it right there
on the couch in his office. She thought now of the secretaries in
the outer office, and of Mrs. Grayson, her husband's private
secretary, who was a kindly looking older lady. She did not want
to shock any of them.
"I have a few minutes right now," Tim declared. "For a
quickie ..."
The softness of her spring dress made Sylvie feel almost
naked as she stood there in his arms. As it was, she no longer
wore any brassiere at all ... it was so old fashioned, and she had
on only the briefest of bikini panties, so tiny that they just
barely covered the tiny golden triangle of her silk covered pubic
'vee'. She could feel the tops of her inner thighs rubbing warmly
together, and she parted her legs ever so slightly, feeling a
fullness and a yearning deep in her belly that made her shiver.
She was about to agree when a buzzer sounded behind them at
her husband's desk.
Tim left her and pressed a button.
"Mrs. Cassidy on line one, sir," a male- secretary replied.
Sylvie made a face, and Tim looked at her as if to say, "What
can I do?" It was Tim's mother, Thelma, calling from Grandville.
She and Sylvie still didn't get along very well, but things were
definitely better, and Sylvie prided herself on thinking up new
ways all the time to thwart her mother-in-law's enthusiastic
meddling.
"Put her on," Tim said, sitting down in the huge leather desk
chair.
Sylvie approached him and kissed him gently on the forehead.
"I'm going to take a walk," she said. "There'll be a magnificent
dinner, just for us tonight ... hurry home!"
Tim blew her a kiss as she left the office and turned toward
the phone. "Hello, Mother? Well, how the hell are you anyway?
Ron told me something about a twisted ankle. Been out twisting
again?"
Tim pressed another buzzer on his desk and could hear the
faint sound it made in the outer office. While he was listening
to the familiar tones of his mother's voice, he looked up to see
his secretary, Mrs. Grayson, come in the door. He motioned for
her to lock the door, and with a secret smile she did so. Mrs.
Grayson had been with him a long time, and Tim hoped she would be
with him for a long while to come, following his career from young
lawyer to D. A. of Grandville to U. S. senator to the next jump
... the big one ... the Presidency!
Mrs. Grayson walked knowingly toward her employer. A widow,
the older woman gave the outward appearance of being a kindly
capable creature who would and could do no wrong.
Only she and Tim knew of the special relationship between
them ... an affinity that they had discovered one night long ago
when they had been working late over a legal brief. That night
seemed far away, as in the comfortably sedate office with the
April sun shining through the windows, Grayson moved around the
side of Tim's big oak desk.
"Yes, Mother ... well of course, Mother!" Tim was saying.
Mrs. Grayson's neat preying hair was tied back in a tight
little fluff at the nape of her neck, and now as she stood beside
the senator, she untied it, letting it fall in silken waves around
her shoulders. It had once been raven black, and it was still
beautiful with its silver streaks. She removed her sensible
rimless glasses, and her bright gray eyes sparkled with
anticipation. Her round pleasant face was free of makeup, and a
natural inner beauty shone from her features as she knelt down on
the floor beside Tim's seated figure.
"When do you want to come, Mother? Well, I'll have to ask
Sylvie first ... she may have planned something that I don't know
about ... well, of course not, Mom! ...
Tim nodded to Mrs. Grayson and swiftly the trusted secretary
reached toward the hidden zipper of her employer's fly. The soft
sound of its descent rose from beneath the desk, as Tim swung his
chair around sideways. Easily, Mrs. Grayson's deft fingers
reached in and clasped the thickly swollen mass of Tim's cock.
Only his features reflected the emotion he felt as her fingers
began a slow up and down movement on the nakedly exposed flesh of
his erect cock.
"Yes ... uh huh ... uh huh ..." he kept on talking to Thelma
Cassidy, the imperious mother of three boys; Tim, the eldest; Ron,
his adviser and manager through two successively successful
campaigns; and Rick, the playboy lawyer.
Mrs. Grayson held Tim's throbbingly hard cock in one hand and
began to pull the thick foreskin down, sending the rubbery tip of
his straining penis shooting upward to glisten nakedly in the air.
"Nice and hard," she mumbled so softly that no one could
hear. "Ooooah, how nice!" She looked up inquiringly and Tim
nodded to her once more, in such a way that she knew perfectly
well what he meant. Standing up, Mrs. Grayson slid her skirt
upward, revealing beneath her straight skirt a pair of shapely,
well developed legs, encased in sheer black stockings. She
removed her flat shoes and stood in her stocking feet on the deep
pile of the rug of Tim's office, and then, reaching upward, she
began to slip off a thin pair of clear blue nylon panties. Tim
could see the frilly mechanism of her elastic garter belt that
remained as the panties came down. Mrs. Grayson's wide pubic
"vee" was covered with deep black curls, and Tim could feel his
hardened cock gore an excited lurch at the sight of it. He was
listening to his Mother's voice with one ear, but his mind was
there between Mrs. Grayson's firmly soft thighs. Tim watched with
admiration as his secretary's face clouded over with a desire that
he had often seen.
In a familiar ritual, she raised her arms over her head
provocatively, pushing her long shining hair up and then releasing
it so that it fell softly to her shoulders. Her soft lips
quivered as she languidly moved closer. Already he could smell
the wonderful scent of the perfume that she spread between her
cream-white thighs. It smelled of roses and reminded him of his
mother's gardens that she had had since he was a little boy. Her
panties had been kicked off, and now she spread her legs wide as
Tim closed his knees together. The sheer black stockings ended at
the top of her thighs and the white flesh gleamed in contrast to
the dark material. The frilly bands of the black garter belt made
two long strips along her hips and the softly rounded shape of her
stomach was encircled by thin rosettes of pink that were edged in
the same black of the belt. Centered between these things lay the
perfect dark triangle of Mrs. Grayson's quivering pussy. She
seemed about to do a split as her stockinged feet slipped outward
further and further from the senator's hard thighs.
Simultaneously, the soft fringed covered mound of her cunt was
opening wider still as she lowered herself onto the long hard
shaft directly below.
"MMMmmmm ... Yessss ... Yes, Mother ... Yes, I'd say so
..." Tim was just as glad that his wife, Sylvie, had decided to
leave. There was nothing that made his day more than a call from
his mother along with a simultaneous visit from his obliging
secretary.
The older woman brought herself slowly down as she faced her
excited boss. He was young enough to be her son, and in fact she
had a son his age who lived in California. For each of them this
secret closeness meant a soothing of deep psychological needs ...
needs that no one else would have suspected, but which were
nonetheless present.
The secretary bit her lower lip as she felt the hardness of
Tim's cock touching against her naked flesh. She let herself
remain poised upon its quivering tip, her pinkly turgid inner
membranes pulsing wetly against his rubbery cock-head ... and then
she began to move. Leaning forward, she brought her face close to
Tim's without interfering with the telephone.
"I'm gonna put you on speaker, Mom ..." Tim suddenly said,
his face reddening. He flicked a switch and put down the phone.
"Must you?" his mother's voice suddenly expanded into the
room from the small speaker on the desk. "I hate that thing! It
always sounds like you're in a vacuum or something!"
"Got some papers to sign, Mom, and it's easier ... go on with
what you were saying!"
But he did not hear as his mother continued, for Mrs.
Grayson's full, soft breasts beneath her loosely cut blouse were
pressing against his chest, and her slick, wet outer cuntal lips
were beginning to slip up and down the length of his cock, though
he had not yet entered her.
Tim began to daydream ... the droning sound of his mother's
voice, the wonderful intimacy of his secretary, his young and
exciting wife out walking in the city that would one day be his
... all these things went through his head as his rock-hard penis
grew harder and harder. The exciting older woman was moving
faster and faster, building up a friction in the external area of
her widespread pussy, feeling the young senator's thickening cock
throb and tremble against her. She stopped her pace and began to
ride slowly and sensuously over it. The fleshy penis between her
legs felt good to her as the thick foreskin slid back and forth
beneath the pressuring, and finally the full knobby surface became
a bulbous mass against the pit of her steaming pussy. She knew it
was time then!
Her Tim's big wonderful cock! she thought to herself. She
smiled at him as she panted above him and then planted small
kisses on his lips.
"TIM---ARE YOU THERE? AM I TALKING TO THE FOUR WALLS? FOR
HEAVENS SAKE!"
"Yes Mother, I hear you ... What's that you were saying
about Daddy?"
"I was saying that if your father were still alive, he would
have wanted you to sign that bill. Now your policies are exactly
the opposite of his, and even though you tell me that times have
changed, I still say that you father was a very smart man ... how
else would have he have made all that money ... money, which I
might add is going to help you go to be president!"
"Don't say such things on the phone, Mom ... Well, it's no
secret we've got money ... A lot of people have money ... but the
point is that ..."
Her breasts were nudging into his chest, her soft sweet
breath in his nostrils, her wetly quivering cunt on his cock ...
Mrs. Grayson's full white thighs spread outward and the thin
pink slit of her warmly seeping vagina nestled lovingly now
against his long, hot, lust-engorged cock where it thrust upward
from the opening in his pants. Tim moved his arms around the
older woman and she put hers up around his neck. Her fresh,
moistly hair-lined pussy slid tenderly up and down along the
blood-swollen shaft of his cock, and her body began to jerk
wildly. The passionate secretary was deep in an erotic trance.
She could not make a sound, but the sound was all inside her.
She reached her hand down and spread her aching cuntal lips
with her fingers as much as possible and then let the big smooth-
headed cock fit up inside their moistened circumference.
Unable to stand any more of it, Tim cried out, "MOTHER!" and
bucked his hips forward and upward as hard as he could. Mrs.
Grayson could hardly keep from crying out, but somehow she managed
as the thickly advancing cock slid slowly upward into her tightly
clenching cunt. Slowly it wormed its hard way up into her tender
softness, and she worked her hips down upon it, filling herself
with it, loving it, and wanting it with all her seething flesh.
"What? What's the matter, Tim? What did you call me like
that?"
"Just ... wanted ... to see if you were listening ..."
"Your voice sounds hoarse, Tim ... is that girl taking care
of you? You tell Sylvie that I'm going to give her a piece of my
mind if you get another cold. Your health comes first."
Tim wasn't listening as he began to fuck upward higher and
higher into the moist darkness of the older woman's experienced
cunt.
"Oh yeah ... oh yeah ... oh yeah ..." he murmured. "Yes,
mother, yes, mother, YES!"
Mrs. Grayson wanted to scream out to him as she sometimes did
when there was no open telephone connection involved. "OH FUCK ME
FUCK ME FUCK ME TIM FUCK ME GOOD AND HARD!"
The young senator had begun a steady rhythm up into her tight
warm vagina, and his strong hard cock was pushing, sliding racing
farther, the whole of it arching from the strong vaginal pressure
on it. His over-stimulated penis throbbed between the tender
vaginal lips, the elastic-rimmed tightness of his trustworthy
secretary, sending fiery thrills through him as he began to flick
his hips hard up and down. He felt her alternately relax and
tighten onto his advancing and retreating cock.
Mrs. Grayson's naked buttocks, trembling and white, slid up
and down upon Tim Cassidy's trousered legs as she felt herself
ramming openmouthed down upon him. She had freed his testicles
from his pants, and they snuggled up into the tightly clenched
crack between her eagerly trembling thighs. Size had never felt
him higher or harder inside her! Her warm velvety pussy clung
naked and hair-fringed around the thickness of his thrusting cock,
its moist pink mouth spreading to admit every inch of the slippery
penis. In spite of herself, she began to emit low hums of ecstatic
bliss, as her breasts heaved and her lips twisted with erotic
passion. Her mouth worked excitedly as her voluptuously writhing
body broke out in a thin film of perspiration. Her head rolled
from side to side, her dark, silver-streaked hair swaying as her
broadly flaring hips began a slow demanding roll above the
senator's heavily impaling cock. And then suddenly, with an
erotically wet sluicing noise, her hungrily grasping pussy screwed
itself nakedly down even more tightly against his exposed loins
and Tim was forced to clench his teeth in a desperate effort to
control himself.
"That's a good idea, Mother ... you're absolutely right," he
said to the speaker phone, and when he heard his mother's voice
continue he knew that he had made the correct reply.
Meanwhile, the older woman who lewdly straddled Tim's rampant
cock had entered another world. Her ripe feminine body was
bursting with lust as every section of it responded to Tim's
rigidly impaling cock, and in a wildly untamed manner she rode him
relentlessly. Her body screaming inside with agonizing delight.
She gurgled softly as the licentiously mounting sensations
overtook her right there in Senator Cassidy's office with a bevy
of secretaries outside typing and filing. Out the window she
could see the Capitol Building right over Tim Cassidy's shoulder,
and all along she was being magnificently fucked by the darling
young boy! Nothing else mattered but the incredible feelings
racing inside her totally feed and churning cunt, making her
quiver wildly as the hard blunt cock-head sped hotly in and out
against her inner cuntal flesh.
The warm wet pussy flesh jerked and twitched spasmodically
around Tim's lust-driven cock as the Startling tide of the orgasm
struck him.
Tim's loins released such a burning heat as his sperm spurted
violently outward and up into the softly yielding flesh that
surrounded his throbbing cock, that great gusts of steam seemed to
fill him as he fucked on into both of their orgasms. They seemed
to cum forever, his hot wet semen ricocheting wildly against his
long-time secretary's desperately contracting womb. Her hands
grabbed onto Tim's blonde hair as they writhed together on the
chair and choked back the moans that threatened to pour forth from
both their lips, and Tim knew that Mrs. Grayson was cumming not
once but several times in rapid succession. Her eyes were totally
lost, turned upward into their sockets as a glistening bit of
saliva formed upon her lips. Tim could see that she was enjoying
it every bit as much as he. She was wriggling this way and that,
moving her naked loins up and down and from side to side, milking
every tiny drop of cascading sperm from his wildly climaxing cock.
Her mouth bit down hard on his suddenly, and Tim felt everything
inside him lurch toward the woman who was old enough to be his
mother. He was giving her his all, and this acute, sky-thrusting
orgasm was his reward. It spun through his system, creating
turmoil in every nerve ending, and the young senator felt the
receding sensations being prolonged by the intense sucking
pressure of his secretary's slender, hair-lined cuntal passage on
his still-wildly-fucking cock. A thin rivulet of perspiration
trickled from his forehead as Mrs. Grayson slumped at last into
his arms. There was a lewd pool of wetness where their naked
flesh still touched, and Tim was glad that he always kept a change
of clothes at the office. He would need it today.
"Jesus!" he thought. "Jesus Christ!"
A buzzer sounded, and Tim started. His mother's voice was
droning on and her words were suddenly clear to him again.
"... and I won't take no for an answer! You'll both come
here in two weeks for dinner ... I've invited some very
influential people, including your nemesis, Senator Grotter. Just
a small party ... you can easily fly down to Grandville for it
..."
Mrs. Grayson was already lifting herself up from her young
employer's slowly deflating cock. She felt weak and drained, but
somehow uplifted. The day's work would fly by now, and soon she
would be on her way home. There were very few days when her job
was not lightened in this unusual way, and she looked adoringly at
the senator as she began to hurriedly adjust her clothes.
"Got to go now, Mother ... Yes, we'll come ... Send Sylvie
a note or call her ... got another call coming in. Yes, goodbye,
Mom!"
He pressed the button that broke the connection and then,
still leaving the speaker phone on, let the new call come through.
"Senator, it's the President's office calling." Tim rapidly
replaced his spent organ within the safe confines of his pants and
nodded to Mrs. Grayson. Briskly the older woman turned and left
the room, leaving him alone to take the call.
"Put them through!" Tim ordered, clearing his throat.
"Senator Cassidy? This is Gardner Peals, and I'm calling you
for the President. He would like to have you come to his office
tomorrow at 3:00 p m. for a private briefing about the course of
the war. Will you be able to come?"
"Of course ... I'll be there!" Tim smiled broadly. He knew
that before long, the President would be calling him directly on
the phone without the use of intermediaries. His status in
Washington was rising steadily and they were just about ready to
start the big thrust for the nomination. Most of the others had
been running all along, but he had remained in the background. In
the background, but not idle. His brother Ron had been busy
scurrying all over the country feeling out the mood and setting up
what was bound to become a Cassidy push within the next few weeks.
The way things were looking, it was certain that there would be a
Cassidy draft at the nominating convention. Then, having done his
homework well and made the right friends and the right enemies,
Tim Cassidy would step in and take over.
Meanwhile, he could afford to remain an enigmatic figure, one
who insisted he would not be in the running.
"Thank you, Senator. We'll-see you then." Peals, one of the
President's top aides, hung up, and Tim pressed the button which
would turn off the speaker phone.
With a sigh, he turned his swivel chair toward the window.
There were a few clouds in the sky now, and it looked as if it
were going to rain. All thoughts of his bossy, talkative mother
and of his erotically inclined secretary were gone from Tim's mind
now as his blue eyes stared out at the Capitol Building shining
white in the near distance. He was due down on the Senate floor
in a few minutes for a vote on the Hender Bill, and he would
shortly be riding the swift underground cars that went from the
senators' office buildings to the Capitol.
There was only the slightest bit of tingling left in Tim's
loins as a memory of Mrs. Grayson's licentious visit only a few
moments before flashed through his brain. The sensual interlude
had done what it always did for the ambitious young man---it had
cleared his head for the real problems that lay ahead ... left him
free for the scheming and plotting that would lead him to the
place in the world where he thought he really belonged ... 1600
Pennsylvania Avenue ... The White House.
Chapter 11
Sylvie noticed the clouds gathering above her and began to
walk a bit faster. She was pleased to see that the unusually
early warm weather that year had made the cherry blossoms begin to
bloom by the river, and she enjoyed their lovely sight and smell
as she strolled homeward. She and Tim had bought a very elegant
town house not far from the river. It was one of several that
formed an exclusive neighborhood of Washington notables.
They spent most of their time going between their Washington
house and the family meeting place, the large sprawling manor
outside of Grandville, the state capitol that was Tim's hometown.
Sylvie liked the Washington house best because it was her house
... whereas at the family house she was likely to find herself in
the company of Tim's two younger brothers, Ron and Erick, who,
having been raised there, gravitated to the spot whenever
possible. In addition, it was much too close to her mother-in-
law's place in the city of Grandville for comfort. The elderly
lady was always "popping by" for one reason or another, and often
invited herself to stay, much to Sylvie's chagrin.
Now, however, there was little for Sylvie to worry about; and
the terrible time she had had with Erick, Tim's youngest brother,
and later with Ron, the brainy middle brother, seemed far away.
It didn't seem as though it could have happened to her at all, and
Sylvie was grateful that the old mental scars had healed so well.
As the day got darker and darker, however, Sylvie couldn't help
feeling a slight tremor. It had been so bright, so clear, only
moments before, and now everywhere she looked there was an ominous
glow that was almost frightening.
She shuddered and scurried on, her high-heels clicking on the
pavement and her lightweight dress fluttering pale and pink as her
hips swayed and her soft smooth breasts bounced with each step.
The wind began to whip her long blonde hair about on her head and
suddenly there were large splotches of rain splattering down on
her. She hadn't even bothered to wear a coat! The house was
still several blacks away and Sylvie wondered where she might take
shelter. A flash of light and a booming sound of thunder rolling
in the distance told her that it would be unwise to stand beneath
a tree. Lightning crackled sharply somewhere in the distance and
after a few seconds another loud peal of thunder made her break
into a run.
Then Sylvie was aware of someone calling her name. At first
she wasn't sure, but then she knew it was so. "Mrs. Cassidy ...
Mrs. Cassidy!"
A dark car rolled up beside her, and a man leaned over and
held the door open for her.
"GET IN!" he called. "DON'T CATCH COLD, MRS. CASSIDY!"
The voice was terribly familiar, and Sylvie hesitated. It
was Frank ... her husband's former valet! At first she thought
she would not get into the car beside him, and then there was
another peal of thunder and she told herself that the past was all
over and she had no reason to shy away from Frank. What she had
done, she had done under the influence of a powerful drug. Erick
Cassidy, her younger brother-in-law, was the one who had
instructed Ella, her maid, to give it to her, telling her that it
was medicine.
Trying not to think about all that, she hurried into the car
and closed the door behind her. She must act natural, Sylvie told
herself, although being wet to the skin had caused her to feel
more vulnerable than she had in years---as though by seeing Frank
again she had brought back those terrible moments she had endured
in Grandville.
"Why Frank!" she said. "What a wonderful surprise ... and
you've come just in the nick of time! I would have been wetter
still in a few moments!"
Frank smiled at-her in his familiar servile way. He had been
a servant of the old school, the kind that no longer exists except
in a few fortunate English homes. He had served the Cassidy
family for many years, and had even continued to serve after the
incident in Sylvie's dressing room. Then he had given notice,
explaining that his health was failing and that he would like to
use his hard earned wages to make the rest of his days as
comfortable as possible.
Tim had added a goodly sum of money to the wages owed to
Frank, and had seen to it that Frank got a comfortable apartment
in a pleasant neighborhood in Washington. They had thought they
would hear no more from him, but now here he was.
"Glad to be of service, Mrs. Cassidy, you know that!" he said
softly. The car was moving slowly along, and Sylvie peered out
through the rain.
"I think you turn at the next corner, Frank!" she reminded
the elderly man.
"Only too glad to be of service," he repeated, and Sylvie
wondered for a second if his mind was going. She thought with
alarm of the night when she had rung for him ... it was after
taking the "medicine". She had lain nakedly writhing on the floor
of her dressing room when he entered. Sylvie flushed a deep red
at the thought now, and at the idea of how she must have looked.
Then she remembered the candle ... the gilded candle that she had
been desperately trying to ensconce within the tightness of her
straining, tingling vagina.
"Oh, help me, Frank," she had cried to him. "HELP ME!"
"How are you, Mrs. Cassidy?" Frank inquired now, and Sylvie
wrenched herself back to the present. Why was he making a left
turn instead of a right?
"Why, I'm just fine, Frank, and the Senator is well too.
You're looking quite well yourself. Enjoying your retirement?"
She did her best to make small talk, but she could hear her voice
trembling. Perhaps it was the drenched state of her clothing.
She felt a definite chill! She had to get home right away!
"I must get home swiftly, Frank!" she declared. "I think you
may have made a wrong turn ..."
"Oh, Mrs. Cassidy, I was so hoping to show you my apartment.
You know, the Senator has seen it, but you never have. I've made
quite a few improvements ... I have my own workshop, you know, and
nothing gives me more pleasure than to ..."
So that was it ... he was taking her to his apartment!
Sylvie tried to think of what she should do. She had learned that
it was important to maintain a semblance of dignity, even in the
most difficult situations, and now she counted on Frank's long
training as a valet and her own instinctive calling toward being a
true "lady". She must maintain that relationship, no matter what.
But she was frightened as the car gathered speed, and she turned
to see Frank's lips set in that same smile, his gray hair slicked
back in a different way, a new, more debonair way.
Come, now, she told herself. He's just an old man ... he
lives all alone ... probably lonely, needs company. He's proud of
his house and wants to show it of, that's all!
"I'd ... I'd love to see it, Frank!" she lied. "I hope it's
nice and warm ... I'm soaked clear through!"
"Oh yes ... you'll dry out there!" Frank promised, nodding
his head in a strange manner.
The rain poured down across the windshield of the car.
Sylvie noted that the car was brand new and showed very little
use. She speculated upon the amount of money that her husband Tim
had added to his valet's pension, and surmised that it was
probably a great deal. Frank ought to be very satisfied, she
thought. There's no reason for me to worry! But what Sylvie
wanted more than anything, as the car driven by the silent and
enigmatic retired valet sped toward the northwest, was to be safe
and warm at home. The nervous young blonde clutched and
unclutched her fingers, clasping them tightly together upon her
leather pocketbook which she held in her lap. Already, she was
wishing that she had stayed in bed that morning instead of going
out to enjoy the bright sunshine. All that sunshine was gone now,
and a dark fear was spreading inside her which was augmented by
the thunderstorm that surrounded the small compact car and its
strangely determined driver.
Frank could feel Sylvie's nervousness beside him, and he
wanted to tell her that there was really nothing to be nervous
about. But somehow he didn't know how to couch the words. She
would just have to wait until they arrived at his apartment. It
wouldn't be long now. It was still difficult for the older man to
converse easily with any of the Cassidys after so many years in
their service, so many years of "Yes, Ma'am" and "No, Sir" and
"Will mat be all, Sir?"
Frank thought about the early days when he had been hired by
old man Jenson Cassidy and his wife Thelma. The three boys had
been mere children then, and things had been considerably
different. Different, that is, from the way they were later on
when Frank---an aging though still effective worker---became young
Mr. Tim's valet. He had seen Tim through his bachelor days and
watched the comings and going of hundreds of comely young women,
and then he had been with him during the first few years of his
marriage to Sylvie. Frank knew, as did all the servants in the
big house in Grandville, that strictly speaking Sylvie was not of
the same caliber as the Cassidys. He had even heard Mrs. Thelma
Cassidy refer to her daughter-in-law as a "shopkeeper's daughter
from the sticks." Nevertheless, with her elegant looks and
manners and that natural poise of hers, Sylvie had managed to hold
her own. There were a few minor exceptions, of course, and Frank
smiled to himself now as he recalled that night when Sylvie's
voice had spoken so harshly into the intercom. Frank could not
recall the exact words, but she had said something like "HELP ...
YOU'VE! GOT TO COME HELP ME!"
"Here we are, Mrs. Cassidy!" Frank said, pulling up in front
of a small three-story apartment building. There were similar
houses on either side of it, and sloping lawns ran down to the
sidewalk, divided by descending concrete steps.
Wet and cold as she was, Sylvie did not want to enter that
building. Yet, she knew that she would. She had very little to
say in the matter. Frank hurried around the front of the car and
opened the door for her. Then he produced an umbrella and, taking
her gently by the elbow, escorted her up the concrete steps to the
front door of the small apartment building. For a moment he
fumbled with his keys, and then they were entering the warm
interior of the building.
"Here we are ... it's right here!" he said, a tone of
excitement entering his voice.
Once more Sylvie reminded herself that the Cassidys at least
owed Frank a little bit of interest in his life after he had been
with them for so long. After all, servants were people, too ...
not to be dismissed with a nod and a thank you and some money as
though they had no real lives of their own. She felt a little
better as she entered the apartment. It was quite large inside,
and although sparsely furnished it gave the appearance of being
very comfortable. A wall-to-wall rug covered the living room
floor, and an old-fashioned sofa looked like a good spot for her
to sit. But first she gravitated toward a radiator that was
giving off steam heat in a corner of the room.
"Yes, that's right, Mrs. Cassidy, warm yourself. Shall I
make some tea?"
"Tea would be lovely, Frank!" Sylvie replied, her teeth
chattering as she backed up against the radiator and looked around
her and Frank disappeared into what she assumed was the kitchen.
Through an open door at the end of the living room she could see a
large double bed, and upon its white chenille spread lay what
appeared to be some kind of tools. She remembered that Frank had
told her he had some kind of workshop, and she wondered what kind
of things he made. Then she saw for the first time that the end
tables on either side of the sofa were covered with framed
photographs. She went over to see the pictures and was startled
when she saw that each frame contained a photograph of a member of
the Cassidy family. They were all taken from newspapers and
magazines, but had been cleverly cropped so that they looked like
real pictures. Everyone was there; a smiling and waving Thelma
Cassidy, looking half her seventy-odd years, wiry and spry as a
young girl in her flowing veils and stylishly cut dress ... an old
picture of Jenson Cassidy, the enterprising oil magnate who had
been dead for many years now---the picture showed him shaking with
President Teddy Roosevelt, and Sylvie was shocked to think of how
long ago it had been taken ... then there was Tim, her husband,
and Sylvie's heart skipped a beat to see a young and innocent-
looking boy, probably still in prep school, years before their
marriage, when she herself had probably been in grade school.
Frank had known her husband then, and even before that, and Sylvie
realized that she had rarely, if ever, thought of this fact. Why,
Frank was more of a Cassidy than she was, really!
There were also pictures of Ron graduating from Yale, already
looking sternly serious and determined, and of Erick sitting on
the zebra-striped seats of that famous nightclub in New York with
some gorgeous debutante. Then Sylvie saw a photo of herself! It
was by far the largest and the most recent, but she had not seen
it at first because it was half hidden behind the lamp. She
recognized the photograph as the one from the cover of Weekly
Magazine. One of the best she'd ever taken, it showed her
perfectly balanced patrician features, her broad smile and shining
white teeth and her flowing blonde hair, framed before a
background of the Capital Building in Washington. It had been
taken several years before, and Sylvie recalled looking at it
carefully that night ... the fatal night when she had taken the
fake medicine! Frank must have cut it out then, she thought with
alarm. Homey sounds of clinking china were coming from the
direction of the kitchen.
Hurriedly, Sylvie replaced the picture so that it was behind
the lamp. She remembered that the caption had read: "SYLVIE
CASSIDY the popular D.A.'s wife/On her way to Washington?"
Well, here she was in Washington, and her husband had already
been reselected to the Senate. She knew that his brother Ron was
already hard at work so that Tim would get his party's nomination
at the convention, and Tim himself never ceased to remind her that
she must never do or say anything that would reflect poorly upon a
prospective First Lady. She must act as though she had already
attained that exalted height, and that way there would be no
problems.
But at this moment Sylvie felt very far from being a First
Lady. In fact, she was acutely aware of the fact that she was
not. Some of her old insecurity that she had known in the early
days returned to her as she thought anxiously that perhaps she
would not make a good President's wife after all. She had been
doing just fine so far, true, and there wasn't a Washington
hostess who did not vie for her presence at the numerous teas and
parties that took place in and around Washington. She and her
senator husband were always invited to the most prestigious
embassy parties as well, and Sylvie was famous for her clothes and
her exquisite good looks. A tall, willowy blonde, there was
little that she could wear that did not become her; and her
figure, she knew, was the envy of all the women who were
acquainted with her. People sensed the deep sensual bond between
her and the handsome Senator, and it made them one of the most
popular couples in Washington. Her husband's brother and expert
campaign manager, Ron, had put it crudely to her long ago, and
Sylvie had to admit that he'd been correct.
"The people want to elect a senator who looks like he's
getting laid. And you're our ticket to ride!"
Sylvie sat uncomfortably upon the sofa. Her dress was still
damp, although she felt quite a bit warmer than before. She
wished that she had something to put around her, for she feared
that the already thin material of her dress had become so
translucent with moisture that the round brown tips of her bare
nipples beneath were showing. What am I doing here anyway? she
asked herself. I should have insisted that Frank take me right
home! She repeated to herself her husband's words when she had
worried about the aging valet's reaction to that devastating
evening in her dressing room.
"I trust Frank implicitly, Sylvie. I'm sure he only thought
he was doing the right thing. He was following your orders, even
though they were bizarre. He was responding above and beyond the
call of duty. I'm sure he looks upon it that way. Don't forget,
he was trained long ago in England to respond to the most unusual
of circumstances with dignity and calm. You and I will try to
forget about what happened. Certainly Frank already has!"
"Here we are, Mrs. Cassidy!" Frank said, entering the room
with a tray. The piping hot tea steamed from the pot as he set it
down on the low coffee table in front of Sylvie, and she could not
help looking forward to its warmth.
"As I recall, you take two lumps and a little bit of milk.
Is that correct?" Frank smiled down at her, and Sylvie blushed.
"Yes," she replied, lowering her eyes. "Yes, thank you,
Frank!" The man's memory was obviously quite excellent!
The hot tea tasted delicious, and Sylvie sat back, just a bit
more at ease than before. She tried, however, to keep her arms in
front of her, just in case her nipples showed too clearly. There
were times when she wished she still wore a brassiere, and this
was one of them. Some people just didn't understand that the
times were changing.
"Well, Frank," she said, breaking into the long silence that
threatened to become uneasy. "What a cozy place you have here. I
really like it. Tell me, how do you spend your time, now that you
have so much of it?"
"Oh, I keep quite busy." Frank had taken a seat opposite
Sylvie in a straight-backed chair that he pulled up to the coffee
table. He drank his own tea with relish. "I work on my little
gadgets ... and then there's the book."
"The book? What book?" Sylvie asked. Suddenly everything
inside her was listening, waiting for what the gray-haired man's
answer would be.
"Why, the book about the Cassidys, of course!" he replied
easily, as though she should have known all along. "I see where
everyone's writing books these days, and in my youth I used to
fancy myself a writer. That was before I went to training school,
of course!" he added with a twinkle in his dark brown eyes.
Sylvie was silent. She couldn't think of a thing to say. It was
all she could do to keep her hands from trembling on her teacup.
"Oh yes, I keep busy! I have a very modern tape recorder
that I use to dictate into. It's the best way, I understand. Oh
yes, I have a lot of memories already down on tape."
"I ... I see ..." Sylvie stammered.
Frank was thinking about how well his book was going. The
Cassidys had been his life, and he knew more about them than about
anything on earth. It would be splendid to have that fact
acknowledged. He would become a celebrity in his own right.
"There's already a columnist fellow who says he'd be
interested in helping me get the book published," Frank said
quietly. He was watching young Sylvie Cassidy carefully.
"Perhaps you'd like to hear some of the tapes?" he inquired.
Outside a siren was screaming, and a fire truck clattered
past. Sylvie felt that sirens were wailing inside her head, that
any second the terrible throbbing would burst from her temples.
"Yes ... yes, I would like that," she said. A part of her
knew that the danger was near, that it was in fact present, but
another part of her dared to hope that there was nothing to worry
about. Frank got up and started into the bedroom, motioning her
to follow.
"This is my workroom back here," he said.
On legs that wobbled and trembled, Sylvie followed her
husband's former valet into the room.
"There's something I'd like to ask your advice about, anyway,
Mrs. Cassidy," Frank said. "Won't you sit down on that chair
there?" He pointed to a chair that was placed between the bed and
in impressive bank of taping equipment that sat upon a long table
against the wall.
Sylvie sat down. There was a deadness inside her, a numb
spot that she sometimes had before she was going to be sick. I
must not get sick now, she told herself. I must remain calm.
Frank reached into a cabinet and withdrew a reel of tape. He
congratulated himself once more and was thankful for the twist of
fortune that had brought the tape into his hands. He fondled it
carefully, thinking back to that night. Frank's dormant penis
began to pulse with life as he remembered Sylvie Cassidy's
silkenly naked body. She had pulled him to her.
"Frank, you've got a cock in there ... You've got a good
hard cock!" She had to have it inside her, no longer satisfied by
his own efforts to help flier get the gilded candle into the
tightly clasping orifice of her golden-fringed pussy. Pushing him
down on the soft rug of her dressing room, her mind crazed by the
drug Erick had sent to her id the guise of medicine, Sylvie hod
mounted his rigid and startled cock.
Frank seemed to feel that incredible sensation still, and he
wondered how much of it Sylvie Cassidy remembered. His long cock
throbbed excitedly as he recalled the tightness and the strength
of Sylvie's yearning cunt, wrapping itself around his upthrusting
penis as she bounced up and down on it. She had commanded him to
thrust the candle into the tight nether hole of her anus, and he
had tried his best to do so, while withstanding her forceful
attack.
He could not deny that it had been pleasurable to serve Mrs.
Cassidy in that manner, and when young Mr. Ron had entered, he too
had felt the same way. Sylvie had been pressed between the two of
them, her brother-in-law Ron and himself, at one point, and Frank
had found her stretched and throbbing rectum a willing receptacle
for his lustfully hard cock. He remembered how much Sylvie had
seemed to like having the two ramming, worming penises inside her
at once, and it was then that Frank had ejaculated far into his
employer's wife's buttock-cushioned anus, in the most powerful
orgasm that he had ever known. When the youngest brother, Erick,
came in, Frank was already getting hard again, and he was hoping
that he might be called upon one more time to satisfy the
outlandish craving that consumed Sylvie Cassidy's deeply tanned,
honey-and-gold nakedness.
It was not to be, however, and Frank had thought it best to
leave swiftly via the service door when Sylvie's husband, the
senator-to-be, came in and found them all lustfully writhing with
his lewdly drugged wife.
The entire story might have ended there, Prank thought now as
he fondled the tape, had he not chanced to pass the open library
door downstairs on his way to the back of the house. Something
made him go in, and there he found the minute tape recorder on the
floor.
His father before him had often told him that a man's chance
often came but once in a lifetime, and if he is lucky enough to
see it he must grab at it while he can. It had been a simple
matter to borrow Morrison, the chauffeur's, taping equipment and
to make a copy of the contents of the recording in his own small
room then and there. He had done so and slipped the little
recorder back exactly where he'd found it, and no one had ever
been the wiser. Until now, at least.
Frank did not know what had made him do it. Perhaps the
untoward events in which he had so recently indulged had changed
his thinking so that he was able to foresee that the little tape
recorder might contain something of value to him. He had not
dreamed that it would be a tape of Sylvie and Erick, her husband's
youngest brother, making furious and ecstatic love. It had been
quite a bonus for the elderly valet to play this tape back to
himself while the others were still upstairs working out their
lusts. He had enjoyed hearing Mrs. Cassidy's groans of desire,
and Frank thought how much company the little tape had been to him
all these years. Why, prior to that evening he had been certain
that his youth was gone. He rarely thought of such things. As a
younger man, he had known many young girls, but none of them had
matched Mrs. Cassidy in either beauty or in sensual intensity!
He slipped the tape onto his machine now, aware that Sylvie
Cassidy was watching his every move.
"Would you like to hear this?" he inquired. "I'd like you to
tell me if you think I should include this part in the book."
Dumbly, Sylvie nodded. She could feel her palms sweating,
and the tape began. What could it possibly be, she wondered,
terrified.
"I ... want ... a ... girl ... just ... like ... the girl ...
that married ... dear old ... DAD! ... You ain't seen nothing
yet!"
Sylvie almost fell off the chair. That tape had been
destroyed long ago! She had been present when her husband burned
it! Yet here it was ... back to haunt her! The unmistakable
sounds of Sylvie's voice lewdly enticing her husband's youngest
brother in a hotel room, inviting him to look at her nakedness,
filled the small bedroom. Erick had spliced the secretly-made
tape later on so that Sylvie's later attempts to stop the course
of events that she had started were completely erased. There
followed only the intensely wet sounds and blissful gurglings of
human copulation. Sylvie once more heard herself screaming as
Erick's hard pounding cock brought a release to all her built-up
tensions. Over and over again she cried out as her orgasms
accumulated and grew stronger and stronger. "OH FUCK ME FUCK ME
HARDER HARDER!"
Sylvie wanted to stand up and rip the tape to shreds. Anger
replaced her original fear, and she glared at Frank's happily
listening face.
"That could be anyone ... ANYONE AT ALL! You must be crazy
to think you can make anyone believe ..."
"Oh, Mrs. Cassidy," Frank declared, "I hope you're not upset
by this. Actually I did think you might prefer to own this part
of my little book yourself. It is, after all, so ... how shall I
put it ... intimate!"
Sylvie stood and began to blurt out exactly what she thought
of Frank and of the tape.
"Blackmail!!!" she cried. "YOU CAN'T BLACKMAIL THE CASSIDYS!
WHY, MY HUSBAND HAS ALREADY GIVEN YOU MORE MONEY THAN YOU COULD
POSSIBLY KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH!!!"
Frank was continuing as though he hadn't heard her. It was
distasteful to him that he had annoyed her so, but then he thought
that she might calm down a bit later when he had finished what he
had to say.
"... and as for this tape being anybody, I'm sure you've
heard of voice prints by now. They are relatively new, but
already very conclusive when it comes to identifying voices I'm
surprised that you don't know that, Mrs. Cassidy."
Sylvie sat back down as though the breath had been knocked
out of her. Was it her imagination, or did Frank seem to be
looking at her in a new way? She was sure he was looking at her
breasts, and she could feel her nipples contracting fearfully at
the thought. She kept her legs pressed tightly together as she
sat primly on the edge of the sofa. It was hard to play the part
of an indignant wife when that tape was still playing, with her
own voice on it raised like a common harlot, wailing and moaning
and obviously enjoying ill
"Perhaps you'd like to have a brandy while you listen to the
rest." Frank was suggesting, and Sylvie seemed to hear him
through a fog. She nodded yes, just to get him out of the room,
and as soon as he had left she leapt up and began to try to push
buttons and pull levers to get the tape off of the recorder.
Unhurriedly, Frank returned carrying two brandy snifters and
a bottle of aged cognac.
"I hope you didn't hurt your fingers, Mrs. Cassidy." he said.
"Actually, you may have that tape if you like. I have another
copy." He held the brandy glass within reach. "Do drink this.
I'm sure it will make you feel better!"
He himself took a deep sip from his own glass, letting his
eyes wander over the slim, well-rounded body on the sofa across
from him. He could remember every detail of its nakedness, every
quiver of her taut little pussy around his sturdily-built cock.
It made him just a little bit angry to see the contempt that Mrs.
Cassidy seemed to have for him. It showed in her eyes, and then
there was that thing that she had just said about money. As
though he wouldn't have any idea what to do with a great sum of
money if he had it! He didn't feel as sorry for her as before
thinking of that, and of her unfriendly attitude toward him when
he had helped her out that night, when she thought she might die
if she did not have his own stiff cock lunging high into her rich
little fur-lined pussy!
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!!!" Sylvie finally shouted out.
The tape was going on and on, and the terrible compromising
lewdness of her own voice was beginning to drive her crazy. Worse
than that, the distinct noises ... the all too explicit sounds of
her own husband's brother Erick's hard cock rising steadily harder
and harder into her moistly churning cunt. Oh God, it was too
much to bear!!
"Why, I certainly don't care to take any of the Cassidy's
money, Mrs. Cassidy. The entire family has been good to me in
that way. There's something else I'd like to have."
There was a long silence while Frank seemed to mull these
words over in his mind, Sylvie downed the whole of her brandy,
thankful for the burning warmth it created in her mouth and throat
and then in her jittery stomach. She dared not speak. Her tongue
felt thick and fuzzy in her mouth, and she longed for more brandy.
Frank leaned forward as if anticipating her thoughts, and she
wondered if she had been looking longingly at the bottle. He
filled her glass again, this time to the very brim, and her hand
trembled so as she lifted it to her parched lips that several
drops fell across the front of her pink dress.
As she brushed her fingers across the wet spots, she could
see the voluptuously large mounds of her breasts, and the all too
well-defined protrusions of her nipples. She shivered as the
brandy coursed down her throat this time, and then knew that all
hope was lost when Frank began to clear his throat. She had hoped
that the silence might go on forever, that he might never speak
again the words which would tell her what she already knew. Yet,
that was impossible of course ... and he had already spoken before
the words became clear in her head.
"I'm an old man, Mrs. Cassidy. When I left your employ
because of my health, it occurred to me that I might never ever
again know the kind of delights that you had bestowed upon me that
one night! You were ... uh ... magnificent, if I may say so!"
Frank's face was radiant as Sylvie looked at him, her own face
ashen and her features strained by the events of the past few
hours. "Since I know that you are prone to enjoy such things ...
and, I might add, you seemed to find me quite acceptable that
night ... I thought perhaps ..."
"NEVER!" Sylvie cried out. But she was thinking of her
husband Tim hard at work back at his office. She was thinking of
his push for the nomination ... of his bid for the presidency.
The situation was more delicate and dangerous than she had
thought, and it was all her fault!
Frank seemed disappointed, but undaunted by her reply, and
she was alarmed when he went on talking as though she hadn't
spoken. His mind has gone! she thought. He's crazy!
"I was drugged that night, Frank!" she cried. "You've got to
understand that that had nothing to do with me ... not the real
me!" Sylvie realized that she was only partially telling the
truth. It was true that she was drugged the night she had yelled
down for Prank to come and help her; but as for the night with her
husband's youngest brother---that spoiled brat Erick---she had not
been drugged at all, not even drunk. But how could she explain
that she had really been temporarily deranged. It didn't sound
right, no matter what! If she complained to be temporarily
unbalanced, that was as derogatory a thing for a senator's wife to
be as being under the influence of a potent aphrodisiac. Erick
had driven her to it with his lies and his taunting, and her own
physical frustration had been brought on by her husband's lack of
attentions. They were so happy together now, though, that she had
trouble remembering how dreadful it had been when he had been so
uninterested in her wifely charms!
"Perhaps you were drugged, Mrs. Cassidy," Frank was replying,
"but I don't know if the columnist will understand that."
Sylvie sucked in her breath, her face flushed.
Frank reached forward to flick a switch that started the by-
now-completed tape into rewind. Then he started it up again.
Sylvie reached forward and grabbed the brandy bottle, pouring
herself a stiff glassful. She took half the glass in one quick
swallow, coughing slightly from the burning sensation in her
throat.
This time, Frank felt his cock jerk slightly as he heard
Sylvie's recorded moaning in the throes of abandoned intercourse.
He watched the horrified and helpless expression crossing over the
young blonde woman's face with a new kind of inward sadistic
satisfaction.
Since Sylvie was still sitting motionless in the chair, he
added: "You do understand, Mrs. Cassidy, don't you? You can
certainly make my declining years much more pleasant with just the
slightest bit of ... uh ... cooperation!"
Sylvie stood up quickly and tried to force her way past her
husband's former valet. She felt hysteria mounting rapidly inside
her as she yelled at him.
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! I'VE GOT TO GET HOME! YOU CAN'T
POSSIBLY EXPECT ME TO---WHY, MY HUSBAND ...!!!"
Frank easily barred her way, taking hold of both of Sylvie's
wrists with a surprisingly strong grasp. As soon as he touched
her, Sylvie knew that he meant to carry out his threat. His voice
was pleasant and his expression mild, but he meant to force her
into some kind of lewd agreement with him! She fought him
briefly, and then realized that she was helplessly compromising
her dignity. With great difficulty, she struggled to gain control
of herself again. Certainly she could reason with the man. He
was standing so close to her, his tall, elegantly thin body
slightly curved with age, that she could smell his cologne.
Yardley's ... she recognized it as the scent her father always
wore back in the little town in which she'd been raised.
"I'm sure Mr. Tim would want you to do anything you could to
help me out ... and then of course you would have the tapes ...
both copies to do with as you like. I'm sure my book will be
interesting enough without that whole chapter, although it does
lose some of its sale value, I'm sure!"
"If it's money ... Sylvie spit out desperately. But the
deceptively mild-mannered gentleman's gentleman waved his hand in
a gesture of annoyance.
"As you mentioned before, I already have more money than I
know what to do with."
Sylvie realized from the slightly sarcastic tone of his voice
that she had insulted him deeply, and she knew instinctively that
somehow she would pay dearly for that insult. Already the mention
of her husband's name was enough to send her into a complete state
of shock. Whatever happened, she must get the tapes and avoid
letting him know anything about this threat to his campaign! He
had already shown enough understanding where she was concerned,
and she didn't want to do anything now to lose his love. Nothing
must change that wonderful relationship they had now. Everything
just had to remain the same!
Suddenly she collapsed, falling back onto the edge of the
bed. She sat with her hands covering her face and began to sob
into theta like a little girl. "OH GOD! I DON'T KNOW! I JUST
DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!"
Frank looked down at the tanned stockinged thighs that were
almost completely exposed as she sobbed into her hands. Her short
pink dress had snaked up higher than she knew and he could feel
small beads of sweat breaking out on his upper lip as he studied
the delicate fullness of her upper thighs.
"It's not too difficult for you, I'm sure," Frank said.
Although he was a native American, his English training had
brought a definite accent to his words, and Sylvie thought of how
ludicrous it was for her to be sitting there like that, crying
uncontrollably, while this man, so well known to her and yet a
total stranger, stood hovering menacingly over her.
But when she raised her head, ready to tell him that she
would return another time to discuss the matter further, she saw
something totally unexpected. There before her very eyes was the
bloated hardness of Frank's fully exposed penis. He stood holding
it now, just inches away from her face, and she jumped backward,
trying to scramble away from him.
"OH GOD NO!" she cried.
But he had already grabbed her by the shoulders and was
waving his nakedly throbbing cock in front of her face.
"Suck it ..." he said, so softly that she thought he might
not have spoken after all. But he said the horrible words again
and Sylvie knew that she had not been mistaken. "Suck it!" he
commanded, louder this time, pulling her unwilling head and
shoulders toward his beet-red, heavy-veined cock.
"I bet you like to suck cock!" he added reflectively. He had
thought about this many times. As a young man he had only
succeeded in having this rare treat once, and he had often thought
that any man worth his salt should have more than one such delight
in a lifetime. This would make twice, at least, he mused,
fondling the warmth of his rapidly hardening cock.
"This is grotesque, Frank ... You can't do this ... Frank
... You need help, Frank ... you mustn't do this to me!" Sylvie
babbled a steady stream of words, hardly realizing what she was
saying. But none of her words seemed to help, and she visualized
her senator-husband, handsome and serious, perhaps speaking right
now on the Senate floor, unaware of what was happening to her.
She must protect him at any cost!
Helplessly, she shuddered underneath the former valet's hard
fingers. She felt his hand at the back of her head, pushing her
face gently but filmy down. His other hand was still wrapped
around his own rigid cock that stood out in the air in front of
her like an ugly fleshy monster. She could see him rubbing the
wetly lubricated head with his thumb and forefinger, and then,
horribly irreversibly, he was rubbing it softly against her
tightly clenched lips. He continued to do so until it was evident
that she was not going to open her mouth. And then he reached
forward and pinched her nostrils tightly together.
Sylvie fought for a moment, trying to move her blonde head
from side to side in desperation, grunting out her protest at the
obscene performance that was being requested of her. Then with a
sudden gasp for air her mouth opened wide. Instantly Frank
flicked his hips forward, sliding the blood-filled head of his
penis thrusting deep within the confines of the young wife's
tender lips.
Again, Sylvie fought, but Frank, feeling the hot wetness of
her oral cavity against his pulsing penis, tangled his hands
cruelly into the Senator's wife's hair and forced her to begin a
gentle sucking motion.
"Ah ... ah ... oh ... Mrs. Cassidy ... yessssss!" he
murmured, oblivious to her torment as her lips unwillingly
hollowed and expanded with each stroke he made into her wide-
forced mouth. Tiny ridges of soft pink flesh could be seen
pulling from her availed lips as he drew back, and Frank smiled to
see his former mistress in such a subservient position. Passion
mounting in his loins as his thoughts wandered, Frank began a
rhythmic sawing back and forth, never quite drawing his hungrily
thrusting cock all the way out, but leaving the tip just inside
the warm moistness of Sylvie's stretched and aching mouth.
"So happy you could oblige me, Mrs. Cassidy!" he cried,
groaning as he thrust his loins forward into the warm moistness.
It was far, far better than he had imagined it would be. The
memory of his initiation into such oral delights had dimmed
considerably over the years, but now, he thought, he would have
this memory always. Mrs. Cassidy's golden-blonde head bent
backward as he forced his stiffly probing cock forward into her
mouth. Her deep blue eyes were alternately wide open in horror
and tightly closed as she performed the lewd task of sucking his
demanding, rock-hard penis! It was a sight to remember!
Frank looked at the mirror on the wall facing the bed so that
he could see a good profile view of the Senator's wife's face as
his lust-hardened shaft continued to saw rhythmically in and out
of her ovalled mouth. The very sight of it caused his loins to
tense and jerk into her face until in the mirror it looked as
though he were sinking the full length of it all the way down her
swan-like throat. Almost all of it seemed to disappear with each
hard thrust he made, until only a little stretch of its purplish
mass showed glistening and protruding from between his lips.
Sylvie could protest no more. She was so completely
humiliated and shamed by what was happening that she only
whimpered now and then as the harshly thrusting rod of Frank's
cock plowed willfully into her widely-separated lips.
OH GOD! she thought. Let it end soon! It had to be over
soon, she told herself. He couldn't go on forever like this! I'm
doing it for Tim, she told herself. Perhaps this will satisfy him
and he will give me the tapes ... perhaps if I cooperate a bit
more ...
Her tongue, with a nerve-tingling lick, thrust forward toward
the throbbing head that pushed against it. Frank smiled as in the
mirror be could see her beginning to come to life. The sensations
around his happily surging cock told him that he had brought out
the hidden sensuality that he knew dwelled inside of the young and
beautiful Mrs. Cassidy.
He watched, hypnotized by the image in the mirror, as the
flesh of her soft pink lips was pulled grotesquely as he pulled
back and she began to suck hungrily. Her breasts jerking and
dancing within the loose folds of her dress added to the lust-
inciting picture presented to him in the mirror.
"That's it ... oh yes, that's the way!" he hissed, letting
his head roll backward as he arched his loins forward into her
hotly steaming mouth.
Preoccupied as she was by the horrible thing she was doing,
Sylvie could hear the wet lewd sounds of her tortured copulation
with her husband's brother rising throughout the small bedroom
mingling with the grunts and groans that burst from Frank's parted
lips and the strangled moans that came from her own stuffed mouth,
for the tape continued to spin out its shameful tale, reminding
her of the reason for her obscene sucking of Frank's distended
cock.
"Ohhhhhh ... faster ... a little faster!" Frank grunted out
as she slaved below him. His hands in her hair twisted and pulled
at the silken blonde strands and Sylvie could feel her body soaked
with perspiration. She wanted the final moment to come so that it
would be all over, and yet she feared the awful sensation of his
sperm ... the nasty, bitter wetness that would seep into her mouth
just when she least expected it.
"OH COME ON COME ON!" he urged. Frank was soaring somewhere
above the clouds. No longer a servant, he was a MAN ... and he
was ramming it deep into Mrs. Cassidy's straining throat! By God,
he'd shove it all the way down to her tonsils before he was
through. His white sperm was going to shoot deep into her throat
and slide slowly down into her belly ... that same softly jiggling
belly that he had once known so well, and which he intended to
know again in the most intimate sense of the word! He could feel
the pressure growing in his testicles, which he had freed from the
encumbrance of his dignified and conservative trousers. He knew
it wouldn't be long now, because his swollen cock felt like it was
going to explode into a zillion pieces! He shoved his loins hard
up against Sylvie's vulnerable face, hearing her mumbles of
protest, but letting them go unheeded as he started on the final
race toward fulfillment to the long awaited end of his torture!
It was building ... building deep inside his quivering balls as he
gasped and bared his lips back over his teeth. All along his
incredibly hard penis he could feel the wild nibbling and sucking
of Mrs. Cassidy's warmly wet mouth. Bits of her spittle were
overflowing and dribbling down her chin as his bursting cock began
a sudden wild staccato jerking that let loose a flood of semen
without warning into Sylvie's wildly sucking mouth.
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" he moaned ecstatically.
Gust after gust of white hot sperm bloated her cheeks
unnaturally outward with each spurt of long-accumulated jism and
she began to choke and swallow, choke and swallow, sputtering
against Frank's thrusting loins.
"I'M THERE! I'M THERE ... KEEP SUCKING KEEP SUCKING! DON'T
STOP YET!" he rasped out, as his hands tangled fighter in her
hair. Convulsively he rammed his cock farther and farther down
her throat, as hopelessly-trapped Sylvie went on sucking as best
she could, feeling the voluminous quantities of the elderly
valet's cum flowing down her gagging throat. Tears were streaming
down her cheeks as with one last earth-shattering groan Frank
emptied the last of his sperm between her lips and clutched her
head to the dampness of his exposed loins.
"OH FUCK ME, FUCK ME! HARDER! HARDER!" Her own taped voice
cried into the stillness, and Sylvie shuddered against the still-
quivering thighs of the valet. Gradually his satiated penis was
deflating in her mouth and she heard a great sigh of relief escape
from his lips. He was pulling away from her, and she
simultaneously pulled back, letting the limp mass of his cock fall
from her trembling lips.
"Oh ... Oh God ..." she cried softly. She scrambled away
from him, moving sideways on the bed until she could stand up, and
then, trembling and shaken, she headed for the door. But
something stopped her, and she turned back toward Frank who was
still standing there adjusting his trousers.
"The ... the tapes ... both copies ... I'll take them now!"
she managed to stammer out. The taste of his cum was acrid and
strong in her mouth, and she knew that her hair was a fright and
her clothes a rumpled mess. There was no window in the room, so
she could not tell whether or not the rain had stopped. It didn't
matter, she would run all the way home in the downpour if
necessary. If only she could get out of that horrible place and
take the incriminating tapes with her!
Frank looked at her in a manner which was both grateful and
apologetic at once.
"May I say," he began politely, only panting the slightest
bit after his powerful orgasm, "first of all, Mrs. Cassidy, you
were magnificent! You surpassed my fondest dreams ..."
"NEVER MIND THAT!" Sylvie screamed, and then lowered her
voice in an effort to control herself. "The tapes ... I'll have
them now!"
"Well, I was about to explain. I'm afraid you'll have to
come back. You see ... l don't keep both copies here ... But I
can manage to have them for you ... say ... next week, at this
same time?"
Sylvie did not know what to say. Her heart fell and she was
afraid she was going to go to pieces right then and there. Then
she spoke. "Very well ..." her voice broke, but she went on, "I
will expect you then. Next Monday."
Frank cleared his throat.
Absurdly, Sylvie focused on the pattern of the floral
wallpaper in the valet's bedroom. There was a terrible aching in
her temples, and she feared her legs would give way under her at
any second.
"It might be best for you to come here, Mrs. Cassidy. That
way you can go over some parts of the manuscript with me ... there
may be some things of interest to you ..."
Sylvie turned and ran out the door. In the living room she
scooped up her pocketbook from the couch and headed for the door.
She did not hear the valet following her, and for that much she
was grateful. When his apartment door was closed behind her she
headed for the street door and dashed outside. The cold air mass
that had enveloped Washington after the thunderstorm filled her
lungs as she began to clatter up the street on her high heels.
She knew she would never find a taxi in that neighborhood, and she
would have a long way to go. Her freedom gave her no pleasure
whatsoever since she knew that it was only temporary, and she
dreaded having to face her unsuspecting husband that evening at
the special dinner she had promised him.
[continues]
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