Message-ID: <4536eli$9710021741@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/4536.txt> From: TheEditor <grobert@IDT.NET> Subject: NEW The Family Swappers [2/3] Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-Id: <l03010d00b0585b8e1839@[169.132.208.47]> 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. 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