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Blackmailed Into Swapping
By Dana Swanson (address defunct)

***

A woman is forced into a swinging lifestyle by her 
boss. (MF, FF, orgy, swinger)

***

Chapter 1

After all that had happened, Mavis Moran mused. Willie 
Quentin still wanted her to continue working part-time 
at the supermarket he managed. After everything -- 
Mavis was somewhat bewildered as she pushed her long, 
slender legs into pale blue panties, adjusted the 
double-ply crotch over her ample love place and 
arranged the cups of the matching bra around her firm 
breasts -- she was still willing to work for him.

As she brushed her hair, she smiled at her expression 
in the mirror. At least, she knew Willie for what he 
was -- or she thought she did. He was a charlatan -- 
and he knew that she knew it. As she finished dressing, 
she wondered whether Becky Samon had kept her 
appointment the previous Wednesday to let Willie screw 
her.

Mavis smiled more broadly. "Theft, my itching butt!" 
she muttered. Well, Willie had tried that with her -- 
it had almost worked -- but she had caught him up. 
Well, she had after he had coerced her and seduced her 
in his office. She was slightly puzzled. There had been 
no hint of resentment that she had slugged Willie in 
the balls and thumped his hard-on with a knotted fist 
when he called her earlier, asked her to work. Well, 
that had happened Monday; this was Saturday. He had had 
ample time to get rid of any soreness in that time. And 
it probably hadn't made him too sore to shag little 
Becky, Wednesday. He really had the hots for her.

She probably wouldn't have accepted Willie's urgings to 
work if her husband, Phil, hadn't called the night 
before to say he couldn't possibly be home before nine 
Saturday night. It was only noon and Mavis poured 
herself a cup of coffee, thought of calling Miriam Carr 
and Connie Quentin to join her -- she wasn't due to 
report to the store until almost four.

But she decided against it. She hadn't seen either of 
her two closest acquaintances for several days. She 
shrugged. "I suppose I should think of them as 
friends," she mused, sipping the coffee and lighting a 
cigarette. An awful lot of "things" had happened among 
them in the past several days to regard them merely as 
acquaintances.

Connie's husband, Willie, had gotten to her, as had 
Henry Carr, Miriam's husband. And Mavis still didn't 
know for sure whether Phil had screwed Miriam that 
night last week. Maybe he had taken on Connie and 
Miriam both -- in the same bed at the same time! He 
hadn't made it clear!

Mavis almost wished he had humped them both -- good -- 
because Hank had screwed her! She shuddered as she 
remembered that repulsive Ben Glover ramming his 
obscene cock into that dainty Terry Lewis. "Ugh!" she 
muttered. 

Mavis wished she could have avoided everything that had 
happened in the past couple of weeks -- but Miriam and 
Henry knew things about her that she just didn't think 
she could stand for Phil to find out! Another thing 
that made her almost ill was that no matter how 
repelled she had been by what she had been compelled to 
do, she had enjoyed it with an almost animalistic 
pleasure. She may have started out in the sex act 
filled with revulsion -- but she loved to fuck and be 
fucked!

The thought tormented her that maybe she wasn't as much 
a sex captive as she had pictured herself. She fed on 
sex -- and Phil hadn't touched her in a couple of 
weeks.

Her mind was distressed and she contemplated having 
another drink. But resisted. If Willie made a demand on 
her today, would she resist his bed and his lecherous 
cock? A warmth fluttered through her and she frowned. 
Right now, rationally, she was adamant that Willie 
Quentin wouldn't screw her -- but her female chemistry 
was responding to her mental gymnastics!

Becoming more and more disturbed, Mavis decided to go 
to work early and get away from her thoughts and 
memories.

* * *

At eight-thirty that evening, Willie Quentin left his 
office and strode straight to the checkout stand where 
Mavis was working. He was brusque and businesslike. "I 
want you to stay over until all of the local chain 
proceeds are in the armored van. You'll have to take 
care of the lock-up procedure and receiving the two van 
guards. My cashier was just called away because of a 
death in the family and the assistant manager was given 
the day off because I thought it would be a light 
weekend -- right after a holiday."

Mavis nodded her consent and watched the tall, red-
haired manager stalk toward the elevator in the back of 
the store to return to his office. It had been a light 
evening. The other two checkout girls had gone just a 
few minutes before; the three stock boys, including 
Dell Emerson, Becky Samon's boyfriend, had gone at 
seven-thirty.

Earlier, Mavis had seen Mickey Lewis saunter through, 
buy a case of beer. He had avoided her, had checked out 
through one of the other stands. Maybe he was still 
embarrassed, knowing that she had seen his wife 
plundered by Ben Glover last Saturday night. Where had 
he been? Fucking Connie Quentin? Mavis knew that Phil 
had been occupied, somewhere, by Miriam Carr!

At eight, Henry Carr had roamed through the store in 
plainclothes while a uniformed officer bought a pack of 
cigarettes.

Mavis knew that Hank was with the officer as she had 
seen them both get out of the marked patrol car. It 
made her even more nervous when Henry Carr ignored her 
and the uniformed officer had checked out a few stands 
away. Things she had heard gave her reason for 
uneasiness.

Shortly after nine, she heard men coming and going in 
the vast stockroom. Mavis knew they were officials of 
other stores in the Salt Lake City area, bringing their 
store receipts for Willie to tabulate and lump all 
money together for the armored van fellows.

Mavis left her stand and tripped a series of switches 
with a special key that locked all customer doors 
electronically. Any tampering with the doors set off an 
automatic alarm at the Sugar House police station.

All she had to do was check the doors to see that the 
locks had engaged properly. That left only two doors 
for entry and exit the side door for employees and the 
huge door to receive merchandise. The side door could 
be opened from the inside or outside, but only by using 
special keys carried by Willie Quentin and the 
assistant manager. The loading dock door couldn't be 
opened at all from the outside, but had to be unlocked 
by throwing a series of three switches in the proper 
sequence, inside.

Only a few lights were on in the store proper. A single 
light burned in the stockroom it lit the passage from 
the loading dock to the stairway to Willie's office. 
With her uneasiness mounting, Mavis lurked near the 
entry to the stockroom, waiting for the armored van to 
arrive. She wished that Dell had remained behind -- but 
he hadn't spoke five words to her since what Connie and 
Miriam had forced him to do! Mavis shrugged. She 
couldn't blame him. And she doubted that he even 
suspected that Becky was fucking Willie!

She wished the van guys would arrive. As soon as they 
rang the bell for entry at the loading dock, she would 
go in back, trip the switches and admit them. Then all 
she had to do was stand by until they took all that 
money, loaded it in the armored vehicle, and she could 
go home. She wondered whether Phil was already there. 
She had left him a note on the breakfast nook table, 
explaining where she was.

As she thought about her husband, warm anticipation 
pulsed through her. When he had called the night 
before, she detected a sexy promise in his voice. He 
had said they would have a couple of drinks and hinted 
at a long night of romping between the sheets.

She was startled when a faint bell sounded and she 
looked up to see a red light flashing beside it. The 
armored van had arrived. It would only be a few minutes 
before she could leave, get in her old car and hurry 
home to her husband's arms.

Mavis pushed through one of the swinging doors and 
half-ran to the back of the stockroom. She turned on a 
small light over a complicated switch panel and 
carefully manipulated the three switches in sequence. 
She stepped back, ready to greet the van guards with a 
smile -- because she would be leaving soon.

But the three men who slipped inside the store weren't 
armored car guards. They were dressed in black 
coveralls with black hoods over their heads. In their 
black-gloved hands were ugly, menacing guns.

Her vague nightmares were about to become stark 
reality... The store was about to be robbed and there 
was no way to warn Willie Quentin in his office alone 
with all that money!

The three men seemed huge to her and she was aware only 
of slight differences in height. Her mind raced and 
there was a dull ache in her breast. From things she 
had heard in the past, Mavis wondered if her husband, 
Phil Moran, was one of the hoodlums!

She had not time for further, rational thoughts as one 
of the men slapped her lightly and pushed her along the 
passageway toward the stairs to Willie's office.

Maybe the van guys will show up and stop them, Mavis 
thought as she felt a hand up under her skirt, fingers 
pushing against her crack, urging her up the steps. She 
had no way of knowing that the three men had pushed 
ether bombs into the armored car to overcome the two 
guards, then had looted it of about two hundred 
thousand dollars.

"Open the door," one of the men -- the one who was 
squeezing one of her nervous fanny buns -- ordered in a 
guttural mumble. Terrified, Mavis pressed a button. A 
buzzer indicated that Willie had disengaged the lock.

Mavis was given a brutal shove forward and she crashed 
through the door and sprawled on the floor against 
Willie Quentin's desk. The three men stormed inside and 
one of them lashed Willie across the side of the head 
with a gun barrel, sending him sprawling back in his 
chair.

There were five dark blue sacks on the floor at one end 
of Willie's desk. He had tabulated the receipts and all 
of that money was ready to go.

Mavis rose unsteadily and peered at Willie who was 
rubbing a swollen welt on the right side of his head. 
"Get naked, you two!" the taller of the three bandits 
ordered harshly, stepping around the desk to slug 
Willie on the left cheek bone with his fist. "Naked!"

"Nooooo!" Mavis started to protest. The man slapped her 
again, hooked a gloved hand in the bodice of her dress 
and ripped it open to the waist.

"Getcher goddamned clothes off!"

She watched Willie get awkwardly to his feet and start 
stripping out of his clothes, his eyes darting from 
pistol to pistol. Mavis, in her terror, was only 
vaguely aware that she was shedding her clothes. After 
kicking off her flat-heeled shoes, she stopped, 
standing there in nothing but skimpy panties and low-
cupped bra. A gun barrel was pressed into her navel and 
she quickly slithered out of her skivvies and tossed 
aside the bra.

Willie was already naked, standing up, both hands 
braced on the top of his desk. The situation was 
blocked from her mind for a moment; she had never seen 
his penis soft, but it was still quite long. His 
testicles were large; the robbery hadn't caused them to 
shrivel. She felt sorry for him. His eyes were going to 
be black and he would have a tremendous lump on the 
side of his head.

The only man who had spoken moved around her and pushed 
her toward the desk. She almost fainted as the cold 
steel of a gun barrel was thrust against her anus.

Harsh, mocking laughter turned her sick. "Get that red-
haired bastard hard -- hurry it up -- or you'll have a 
helluva time getting this lead out of your ass!"

"Please!" Mavis implored as she was pushed around one 
end of the desk. She noticed that one of the men 
grabbed two sacks of the money and hurried from the 
office. The other shoved Willie into his chair and tied 
his arms behind the back. Then he unrolled a band of 
wide adhesive tape and wrapped it all the way around 
Willie's head, across the clamped mouth.

Mavis was shoved onto her knees beside Willie as 
Willie's legs were tied to the swivel mechanism and 
underpinning of the chair.

"Make the bastard a monstrous hard-on, baby!" the man 
snarled.

With disgust mingling with fright, Mavis reached 
timidly for Willie's genitals. His bag of balls was a 
handful. She began jacking him off, running the thick 
skin of his penis up and down the limberness. Up over 
the head and back down toward his hairy crotch. The 
glans jerked and perked and she flogged his meat more 
quickly. How could his peter respond like this, under 
the circumstances, she wondered as starch flowed into 
his bone and the penile shaft thickened and stiffened. 
In a couple of minutes, Willie had a full hard-on and 
Mavis prayed that her tormentor wouldn't make her give 
Willie a blow-job!

But that wasn't his intention. She was yanked backward 
roughly, landing on her naked ass, legs sprawled wide, 
feet in the air.

She stared in disbelief as the other man unrolled a lot 
of his tape. He hesitated when the third man returned 
and left with the other three sacks of money. Then he 
squatted beside Willie and slowly taped his hard prick 
with the adhesive tape. Round and round and round and 
round that massive pecker until it resembled an obscene 
mummy. Then he wrapped Willie's balls with tape and 
secured them to his left thigh with several winds.

Just the thought of taking off that cocoon of sticky 
tape almost made Mavis ill. It might come off his cock 
okay, but she would bet that it would yank out every 
hair on his scrotum!

Mavis had little time to contemplate Willie Quentin's 
miserable predicament. Everything was swept from 
Willie's desk and she was yanked to her feet. "You 
bastard!" she managed to swear as she was slammed down 
on her back on the oak surface. She was slugged in the 
pit of the stomach and wind was slammed out of her. She 
was helpless, fighting for breath, as her wrists were 
taped to legs on opposite sides of the desk. The roll 
of tape passed over her body, Just at the navel, and 
around the desk several times. Three or four winds of 
the tape secured her ankles that were pushed high 
toward her face. It was secured there as the tape was 
wound around her arms above the elbows.

It was almost a relief to have her legs drawn up high 
as the edge of the desk had cut into her buttocks. 
Mavis started to scream, but her mouth was crushed shut 
and tape cemented her lips together.

"I think we got time for me to fuck her!" the only man 
who had spoken said. Through terror-filled eyes, Mavis 
saw the other two men nod.

The man shoved a gloved finger into her upturned 
groove, then wormed it brutally into her vagina. "Go 
ahead and fuck her -- and let's get out of here," one 
of the men finally broke his silence.

Mavis watched the man step up to her and drop his 
clothes and shorts. She stared at his tools, fearing he 
might remove the tape and stuff the pear-headed shaft 
into her mouth and down her throat as he brought it to 
full rigidity by jacking off with gloved hands. But he 
was only interested in shoving his ten-inch cock into 
her cunt and dropping his rocks deep in her fearful 
body.

She wretched and squirmed as his gloved thumbs pried 
the lips of her pussy wide and he socked his cock deep 
into her channel that was shrunken by fear. This was 
one session of sexual intercourse Mavis knew she 
wouldn't enjoy. While her assailant warped the prick to 
her snatch, one of the other men taped up her breasts. 
The gum of the tape drew on her flesh and skin and the 
pain was almost unbearable. She was only vaguely aware 
of her rapist's quickening thrusts -- long and ruthless 
and fast. Then he shot a full load of boiling semen far 
up in her stretched swat.

"Tape!" he yelled triumphantly.

Mavis raised her head as he withdrew his saber-cock and 
quickly taped up her crotch, running the binding from 
her asshole to her belly button. Then back and forth, 
sealing his cum in her snatch.

Her first thought was that with his cum plugged in her 
twat she would get PG, but she had taken The Pill 
regularly. All that could happen -- the very worst -- 
was having this foul rapist's jizz soaking in her 
pussy.

* * *

Hysteria mounted, subsiding only after the three 
robbers had gone. Her discomfort, having her feet drawn 
high in the air and arms tied down the sides of 
Willie's desk, became dominant. She had the frightening 
sensation that she would be left like this, obscenely 
naked, her breasts and crotch painfully taped, until 
she died.

Willie was helpless. No matter how he struggled, the 
adhesive tape kept him harnessed to his chair. Mavis 
twisted her head to the right and stared at the 
grotesque mummy of his genitals. It must be very 
painful for him, she thought, having his hard cock 
bound up like that with wide strips of tape.

Time passed slowly. And Mavis drifted into a 
semiconscious state.

Later, she was only vaguely aware of other people in 
Willie's office. She learned the next day that Connie 
had called the police when Willie didn't come home.

Police Lieutenant Henry Carr was there -- he helped cut 
the tape bonds from her arms and legs and the strip 
that encompassed her body. There were other policemen, 
too. And Phil came as Hank wrapped a blanket around her 
nudity. He rode in the ambulance with her to the 
hospital where she was given a sedative before the tape 
was cut from her body. She was washed down with rubbing 
alcohol and put to bed. She was more asleep than awake 
when Phil told her that nurses had had to shave her 
pussy hair to remove the adhesive from her abused 
snatch.

She hadn't been aware of that, but had known when 
someone flushed out all of that cruel man's filthy 
semen. They had sprayed and perfumed her and that had 
felt good and cool and she wanted to sleep.

Her sleep was deep, but her mind played back, vividly 
like a full-color, three-dimensional movie, the past 
couple of weeks. Her mind focused immediately on that 
day when she came home from the store, the day Dell 
Emerson had accompanied her to help bring the groceries 
into the house.

Yes, that was when all of this horrible business 
started happening to her...


Chapter 2


As Mavis preceded Dell Emerson through the vined arbor 
to the back door, she was conscious of his eyes on her 
rump that was snugly molded by tennis shorts. She knew 
men and she knew that the young law student's eyes were 
exploring her body as he carried the large box of 
groceries.

She juggled the two bottles of gin and mix to her left 
arm as she unlocked the door. She liked to look sexy, 
knowing she had a figure men liked looking at. And Phil 
Moran, her husband, liked for her to dress enticingly. 
He was almost embarrassingly proud of her sensuous 
appearance.

And Mavis liked men's eyes on her. She held the door 
open, glad to be out of the glaring sun, and let Dell 
into the large kitchen. She paused, perfectly still, 
listening to Dell put the box on the breakfast nook 
table. She frowned. There was that one brief chapter in 
her life she wished she could erase. There was that 
tormented interlude after college when she couldn't 
find a job. A lot of men's eyes had seen her body -- 
not just in tennis shorts and skinny bra! They had let 
their lust-filled eyes rove over her absolute nudity! 
And, oh, the things she had let them do to her body! 
Some had been really, keenly good! Others had just used 
her for their animal pleasure. She wasn't resolutely 
ashamed that she had been a prostitute for four months. 
It hadn't been so bad. And the money was good! But, she 
would never, never, ever tell Phil! That would just 
kill him and her marriage, probably!

She sensed that Dell's eyes were on her hips and thighs 
and slender back again. She lingered with her reverie 
for a minute longer. But a girl had to make ends meet -
- she had had that urgent student loan to pay off 
before they would let her have her diploma in 
economics.

It hadn't been too bad. In the four months, she had 
only taken on enough "clients" to meet her financial 
obligations. Hell! she pouted, turning and smiling at 
Dell, a lot of girls gave it away free to thirty men 
and boys -- and she had earned almost twenty-five 
hundred dollars. And some of the older guys -- the 
tender repeaters -- had been real fun; they had taught 
her that sex-play was greater sport than the Super Bowl 
-- and no broken bones. She almost giggled. She had 
crushed a few sex bones. Except, the memory sometimes 
almost broke her heart. Well, she had her hero. Phil! 
And she would never sell her body again!

"A drink, Dell? That's right, you have to go back to 
the store. How about a lemonade? It's all ready, in the 
frig."

"Okay," the tall stock clerk said, slipping into the 
nook.

Mavis inhaled deeply, lifting her full breasts for his 
admiration, as she handed him the frosty glass. His 
eyes never missed a ripple of supple muscles in her 
midriff and the haughty lift of her breasts. "I'm going 
to have a martini," she murmured, turning away from his 
eyes that had riveted on her crotch where the tight 
shorts outlined the full labia -- the smile and crease. 
As she stirred, she sighed silently. She could have 
him. And, with Phil gone so much, an eager tail wagging 
around inside her would be scrumptious! But, she loved 
Phil too much to cheat, she told herself. Or did she? A 
healthy girl needs sexing ever so often.

No matter how much she needed a piece of male twang and 
a spot of nookey, it would take a helluva lot to get 
her on her back with legs kicked high for some other 
man's pleasure-stick! She sensed he was hot -- aroused 
-- she could almost smell his musky male aroma! She 
could have him -- if she wanted! But, wasn't he going 
with Becky Samon? The young woman who worked as a 
typist at the Salt Lake City law office where Dell 
helped work up briefs, did research and got some 
practical legal training? She wondered, even though 
they were engaged, whether Dell was faithful and loyal 
to her.

She would bet that he was! Right now, he was extremely 
hard-up! She could smell the warm, sweet aroma of his 
genitals -- and her excitement was increasing. But, she 
was resolute! She wouldn't let him seduce her and she 
wouldn't seduce him and cheat on Phil!

The fleshy curtains that protected her womanhood felt 
glued together and she didn't want to risk getting up, 
lest Dell see the telltale traces of honey seeping from 
her love cove! "Hadn't you better get back to the 
store?"

"Probably," Dell smiled, finishing his lemonade and 
sliding out of the booth.

After he had gone, she pouted over the possibility he 
had smelled her, too! She didn't want him to think of 
her as a cowardly female in heat! Afraid to skin out of 
her clothes and have a lusty sex romp while her husband 
was away. Mavis almost cried. She did need her cove 
explored. She shivered with sexual misery. If Dell had 
just made the gesture, she just knew she couldn't have 
resisted; she would have flopped over, flung her feet 
into the air and spread her milky thighs wide. She 
wouldn't have resisted one iota as he presented his 
manhood to her. She would have let him take her -- and 
she would have taken him! She fluttered and burned and 
itched all through her loins. She needed it! She needed 
a man!

"Phil!" she cried. She had heard many men say it, now 
she yelled it herself... "I need fuckin'!"

She finished the pitcher of martinis and glanced 
fuzzily around the elaborate kitchen. The gin had hit 
her very hard, after a couple of hours of tennis with 
Connie Quentin and being out in the hot sun. And the 
alcohol did nothing to cool the sensual urge that was 
coursing through her veins.

Mavis almost wished Willie Quentin, Connie's husband, 
would call her in to clerk that evening at the local 
supermarket where she sometimes substituted for regular 
help. The prospect of spending another evening of 
solitude without Phil was depressing. Would he be home 
tonight? He had said he was going to Cheyenne, Wyoming, 
on some kind of big burglary. That was three days ago 
and he hadn't even called!

She let her fingers graze the hard tips of her breasts. 
He hadn't even given her a little the night before he 
left. After three years of marriage, was his love and 
passion for her ebbing? The thought frightened her. She 
knew she was just as desirable as when he had married 
her. And her passion hadn't cooled, in fact, it seemed 
even snore volatile and explosive. As a matter of fact, 
her preoccupation with sex lately worried her. Was she 
-- could she -- turn into a nymph? She had read case 
histories about women who couldn't get enough 
intercourse. She often thought some of the symptoms 
paralleled her own feelings of lust.

Hadn't she seriously considered -- if only briefly -- 
an affair with Dell Emerson? Oh, she had found it not 
too difficult to resist making the initial overture 
toward the bedroom. But the cozy prospects of being 
fondled and laid had their stimulating allure. She had 
the physical evidence it was so... Her crotch was 
sticky -- hot with passion and her vulva and vagina 
seemed on fire!

Clumsily, Mavis eased out of the breakfast nook. Her 
tapering thighs were like jelly and she was surprised 
her long legs supported her. With both hands on the 
tabletop, she steadied herself. Each movement seemed to 
agitate the sensuous torment in her loins. She shook 
her head and smiled faintly. It was a good thing Dell 
had gone before she finished the martinis! She needed 
it so bad right then she would have flopped for the 
Quentins' gardener -- black as he was!

Suddenly, a vivid picture of one of her "clients" 
flashed through her mind. He always liked her down on 
all-fours, dog-fashion. The memory was so sharp and 
keen she could almost feel his penis gliding in and out 
of her vagina, his fingers gripping her flanks at the 
hip bones and hauling her body back, smooth cheeks of 
her ass pounding against his hairy belly as he speared 
his long, thick penis deep into her passion-juiced 
uterus.

She closed her eyes and shuddered. Was she sex crazy? 
Unsteadily, Mavis wandered into the huge living room 
and pulled the drapes. With her mind and body in 
turmoil, she flopped on the divan, breathing heavily. 
Phil wouldn't call; she just knew he wouldn't. And she 
would be alone another night. Sure, she knew several 
people, but they were Phil's friends. They had been his 
friends long before they were married.

Unhappily, she thought about them -- positive they 
weren't interested in inviting her over alone without 
Phil. Connie and Willie Quentin knew she was by 
herself. So did Miriam and Henry Carr. But it might be 
more difficult for the Carrs to entertain her. He was a 
police lieutenant and his hours were as irregular as 
Phil's. And she hardly knew Terry and Mickey Lewis. 
They were fairly new to the neighborhood. Mickey had 
just taken the position as basketball coach at the 
local high school. So, who else was there? You could 
bet that Dell and Becky wouldn't want to sit with a 
married woman they knew only slightly -- not when they 
could be at a drive-in movie necking and petting. She 
had the intuitive feeling they weren't making out, that 
Becky was saving her cherry for her husband on their 
wedding night.

Mavis could barely keep her fanny from bouncing; nerves 
kept sparking deep in her innards. God! How she needed 
relief! Resolutely, she turned to her right slightly 
and skidded the zipper on the side of her shorts and 
freed the button. Well, she wouldn't go hunting for a 
stud to service her. She drew her feet up and worked 
her shorts and moist panties down past her knees. 
Delicately, she combed her fingers through the rich 
pubic growth that was long and thick over her mound and 
fanned nearly to her navel.

"Ooooooh, goooood!" she sighed. Without even feeling, 
she knew the pleasure thorn had poked out of its fleshy 
sheath, tingly and hot. She had never made a practice 
of playing with her monkey, but it sure needed petting 
now! Mavis had never felt any regrets after 
masturbating, but she did it on rare occasions. She 
drew her feet up until the heels were against her 
buttocks; she fanned her knees and tense thighs wide. 
She wanted to live a clean, straight life, loving her 
husband and caring for her home. So, a little playing 
with her pussy wouldn't hurt anything -- not nearly as 
much as taking on some man while Phil was away. He 
probably would understand her masturbating, but would 
never forgive her for adultery.

Mavis knew that the seat of pleasure lay just inside 
the fatty folds of flesh just below the pulpy mound 
across her pelvis. But she would prolong the enjoyment, 
now that she had committed herself to sexing herself. 
Slowly, delicately, she stroked her fingers up and down 
the inner planes of her thighs. "Ooooooh," she moaned 
as muscles jerked and nerves sparked. She used her 
thumbs to press the thick lips together over the 
clitoris and the aching opening to the vagina. She was 
so drenched with passion, she knew stroking the firm 
flesh of her crotch could make her cum. But she fought 
off the building thunder in her loins. She wanted 
lightning to strike at the same time -- and that would 
come only when she parted the full lips and stroked a 
hand in the wet groove and crammed two or three fingers 
of the other hand into her greedy hole. The seething 
and boiling in her channel was reaching a tempestuous 
pitch.

After a slow rake of sharp nails along her thighs, she 
used the fingers of both hands to spread the labia 
wide. Almost brutally, she worked her bunched fingers 
into her vagina. Then she attacked the clit and upper 
part of the furrow with her other hand. Furiously, 
stroking up and down, raking the thorny clit harshly.

There was a pounding of drums in her head, and thunder 
and lightning were cascading together in long rolls in 
her insides. She was cumming! Faster and faster her 
hands flew -- up and down in the vulva, in and out of 
her cunny. She was having it! She was CUMMING!

"Aaaaaaahhhhhh, God!" she whimpered as the waves of 
passionate splendor washed through her like high tide. 
She was buffeted and battered by tremendous shock waves 
of masturbatory satisfaction.

As her heartbeat started returning to normal, after the 
lightning retreated into her uterus and the thunder 
grew still, she slowly opened her eyes, still clutching 
her snatch with both hands.

And stared into the smug amused face of Miriam Carr. 
Shame flashed through her -- but there was no sign of 
ridicule in Miriam's hazel eyes. Just faint, lively 
amusement. Mavis was starkly aware of her obscene 
posture, knees scissored up, thighs spanned wide, hands 
dug into her pussy -- and Miriam peering at her. Tears 
blurred Mavis' eyes -- and still she lay perfectly 
still, as if paralyzed.

"You poor darling," Miriam murmured, kneeling beside 
Mavis and placing one cool hand between Mavis' heaving, 
jutting breasts and another on Mavis' feverish hands 
clutched in her sex saddle.

"What a delightful, exciting performance!" Miriam 
cooed, slowly pushing one of Mavis' hands aside and 
fingering her own into the upper expanse of vulva that 
was slicked with female sex honey. Mavis' tense ass 
bucked uncontrollably as Miriam teased the moist furrow 
and deftly pinched the fading clit back to full 
erection.

Mavis wanted to sob and writhe away, but Miriam was 
doing things to her, again arousing her to a feverish 
pitch. The muscles in her flat belly spasmed and 
tightened as Miriam continued to masturbate her slowly, 
then faster and faster.

Mavis was panting in short gasps of passion, her free 
hand sliding up under her skimpy halter to clutch a 
breast melon. "Oh, God!" she whined and moaned as 
Miriam brought her out. She felt she was being turned 
inside out down there where her own hand was diving 
deeper and deeper into her boiling, roiling cunt. Her 
torso was bucking and plunging, naked ass humping up 
for full pleasure from her own inserted hand and 
Miriam's agile fingers. "I'm cumming!" she yelled 
triumphantly, no thought of shame, as her innards 
exploded into a violent orgasm that nearly left her 
unconscious.

She was only vaguely aware of Miriam leaving her as her 
sex-saturated body trembled and began returning to 
normal once again. She opened her eyes to see Miriam 
standing over her with a couple of drinks.

"You poor darling," Miriam repeated softly' helping 
Mavis sit up and cradling her in one arm. "Drink the 
gin and tonic, honey."

Mavis sipped gratefully, all but unmindful of her naked 
lower extremes. Right then she didn't care if Miriam 
gazed at her hairy tummy and snatch. She didn't care 
that Miriam had seen her playing with herself -- had 
helped her masturbate. She had had relief that she had 
needed so urgently. She couldn't sort out her emotions; 
tell whether the two self-induced orgasms were 
comparable to those she got from a huge cock working in 
and out of her pussy, or not.

"Thank you, Miriam," Mavis murmured, sipping the strong 
drink.

"You aren't getting all you crave from Phil, are you?" 
Miriam suggested slyly. "You two aren't making it so 
good in the sex department, are you? How long has it 
been since he gave you a good lovin'?"

"More than a week," Mavis cried softly, tears rolling 
slowly down her cheeks and trickling off her chin into 
the deep cleavage between her firm, feverish titties.

She liked the feel of Miriam's fingers under her arm, 
squeezing the ridge of her breast. "I feel so awful!" 
Mavis finally blurted, clenching her thighs over her 
naked, hairy crotch. The thick, blandish mat was 
soaking wet from her passion and perspiration.

"Sometimes, husbands and wives need a change of 
partners to make them more appreciative of their own 
marriages."

In spite of the liquor, Mavis' senses sharpened. What 
was Miriam hinting at? A thought was building in the 
back of her mind, emerging solidly from something she 
had merely sensed in the past. Phil's friends were 
swingers! Mate-swappers! Miriam, subtly, was proposing 
that she and Phil engage in the growing pastime of 
jumping from bed to bed! Oh, no! Were the Quentins 
involved? Somehow, she knew they were! And how many 
other couples in the neighborhood? People that she and 
Phil didn't even cultivate socially.

"What are you saying, Miriam?" Mavis queried, making 
her tone absent and disinterested.

"I am sure that I could rekindle Phil's interest in you 
-- the guys talk -- and Hank has said several times he 
is concerned about your physical and mental well-being. 
Besides that, honey, he has all the equipment and know-
how to please a girl. And we women know better than men 
how important it is to our lives to get rid of those 
deep passion-pressures so we can be relaxed and 
serene."

Mavis gulped half of her drink and trembled as if a 
sudden chill was numbing her body. She looked down at 
her nudity, panties and tennis shorts around her 
ankles. "Oh, no, Miriam!"

"Sometimes, it is a big step toward saving marriages -- 
it keeps them from becoming stagnated and dull," Miriam 
said confidently.

Mavis felt in a state of shock. She didn't even bother 
to haul up her clothes to cover her nudity while Miriam 
went to mix two more drinks. Could she do it with Henry 
Carr? Her thinking had never dwelled sharply on what it 
would be like to undress and crawl into bed with one of 
hers and Phil's neighbors and fuck. And she had never 
considered that Phil would lay another woman. She just 
couldn't imagine her husband pouring his meat into 
another woman's snatch.

Miriam's free hand was on her naked thigh, like a hot 
iron on her quivering flesh. It was like a daytime 
nightmare! Miriam was very serious and intent about 
swapping husbands. And the way she talked, Mavis was 
certain Henry was all for it! How would Phil react?

She sat very still as Miriam rose, kissed her cool 
forehead. "Think it over, sweet. Talk it over with Phil 
when he gets home. I feel certain you will see it my 
way -- for the best of all of us. If you should lean 
toward the negative, I'll try another method of 
persuasion -- and I am sure it will work!"

Mavis sensed an ominous note in Miriam's tone.


Chapter 3


Mavis, purposely, had left it dark all through the 
house, had sequestered herself in the master bedroom 
that she shared with Phil -- when he was home.

After Miriam had stolen from the house, Mavis had taken 
a long, hot bath, soaking for nearly an hour. She had 
powdered and perfumed her body, yet a taint seemed to 
linger in her flesh. Completely sober now, she knew 
what it was. The memory of her masturbation and having 
Miriam walk in and assist her into a second orgasm left 
a dark thought crashing through her mind. Shame and 
embarrassment gnawed at her. Another thing, as she 
considered it as objectively as possible, was Miriam's 
parting comment about being able to persuade her to 
agree to mate-swapping. She had been right at the 
time... There was something callous and threatening in 
her voice!

Surely, just having seen her playing with her pussy for 
needed relief wasn't enough to give Miriam a lever to 
compel her to consent to sleep around with other men! 
What the hell! A lot of women whose husbands weren't 
available masturbated. And not just with their fingers, 
either! She had read the books. And she had seen some 
of the tools that were available -- some of the girls 
in college had them -- dildos -- and used them 
regularly, nightly!

Mavis wished that Phil would call, and she didn't. What 
would she say to him? Could she talk about Miriam's 
open proposal that they swap husbands? Over the 
telephone? It might be easier than having Phil in the 
same room with her. On the other hand, if he were 
present, she could study his expression and compare it 
with his comments.

The thought of having Henry Carr or Willie Quentin 
riding in her sex saddle and banging her cunt with 
their cocks should have nurtured total revulsion in her 
mind -- but there was an aura of excitement mingled 
with questioning apprehension about it!

"Oh, damn!" Mavis swore softly, deeply tormented. How 
could she tell Phil, she wondered miserably, sitting 
down before the vanity mirror, wearing nothing but 
panties. As she slowly brushed her long, blonde hair, 
tears fell from her blue eyes onto her gorgeous 
boobies. Would Phil understand? Would he be furious? 
Maybe, he knew about their friends already!

Maybe her husband had already sampled the love wares of 
Miriam and Connie Quentin! And she was just being set 
up for a complete Mardi Gras of mate-switching! The 
thought was slightly repulsive to her.

But she and Phil hadn't been so hot in bed; their lives 
hadn't been exactly a bowl of passionate porridge 
lately! But she hadn't realized all of the signs were 
there for other people to read so easily.

Mavis waggled her taut, trim fanny around on the 
dressing bench to ease the twitchy-itch in her rich 
crotch. Phil hadn't given her a full ration of peter 
for more than a week. And her appetite for man-meat was 
getting to the point where she needed a lot of it and 
one as big as a horse!

Even though the experience had been distasteful she 
forced herself to reflect on it. Miriam, with sandy 
hair and large hazel eyes, after helping her 
masturbate, had looked right at her and brought it 
right out that she knew she and Phil weren't "making it 
so good."

And they weren't making it! -- not in the bedroom, on 
the sofa in the living room, in the shower standing up, 
in the tub lying down, in the back seat of their shiny 
Buick or in the patio or on the back lawn after dark. 
Mavis started crying harder. She needed her husband to 
make love to her -- not other men in the neighborhood. 
Oh, how she gloried in having his big bone buried in 
her swat! And she needed him so much she felt she could 
just make sausage out of his pecker. For a moment, she 
had the aching sensation she could use any he-meat -- 
young or old!

Her sense of shame deepened. How could she contemplate 
surrendering her body -- her pussy to another man's 
cock, her breasts and lips to another man's mouth? The 
brief episode of her life, before she was married and 
had taken men's lustful bodies between her thighs, sex 
stumps in her cavern, was blotted from her mind. Her 
brief tenure as a prostitute didn't count now. She 
didn't remember she had taken their thumping cocks deep 
in her pussy almost as eagerly as she had taken their 
money.

Mavis was aware that the double ply of her scanty 
skivvies had wedged into the tight smile of her vulva 
and was agitating her again. She finished brushing her 
hair and strolled restlessly around the bedroom. She 
paused at a window and cautiously parted the drapes and 
peered out across the dark back yard. It was after ten 
o'clock. A light was on in the den of the Quentin 
residence. The Carr home was blacked out.

She opened the window slightly and strained to listen. 
There was faint music wafting on the still night air. 
Mavis quickly concluded it was emanating from the 
Quentin home. She stared a moment longer and worked the 
drapes back together. Was it possible the Quentins and 
Carrs were swinging -- had swapped mates and actually 
were engaging in orgiastic fucking in the same room? 
Her heart hammered violently as her mind conjured up a 
lewd spectacle of the four naked people twisted in lewd 
knots, each screwing the other's marital partner.

"Oh, damn!" she whined, pouting and falling over 
backwards on the huge double bed. Why did such thoughts 
start her blood racing, heart palpitating madly? She 
DID NOT want to engage in such adulterous behavior.

She touched her bare breasts gently and found the 
aching dainty nipples fully extended to the point of 
exploding. She caressed a hand downward, fingering the 
thick mesh that adorned her pubic region. She found her 
crotch was like a bed of live embers, nearly torrid 
enough to sear her fingertips.

Mavis closed her eyes and worked her hand under the 
band of her panties and cupped her luscious mound. She 
had no qualms, then about masturbating again. She 
closed her mind to the embarrassing incident of Miriam 
catching her. Delicately, she plowed a finger into the 
smile and waggled it until the thick petals unfolded in 
a broad bloom.

"Oooooooooohhhhhhhhh!" she moaned, working the finger 
up and down the long, slick, hot rut, gouging it deep 
into her vagina, sliding back to the top of the furrow 
again. "Eeeeeiiiii," she panted, feet planted far 
apart, heels dug into the bed, frenzied ass bumping and 
grinding as she whipped her hand back and forth in her 
snatch, rapidly soaring toward an orgasm.

Just as she slammed into it, fingers buried in her 
cunt, thumb prodding her stinging clit, the telephone 
rang. The sound did nothing to deaden her erotic 
pleasure. A hand left her boobies and reached for the 
instrument. Still savoring the sweet, sugary blasts of 
her orgasm deep in her cock-channel, she gained control 
of her breathing.

"Hello?"

"This is Phil," the voice sparkled over the wire.

"I -- wish -- you -- were -- here!" Mavis blurted, 
clutching her passion-greased snatch. "Why haven't you 
called before?"

"Been to places where there are no phones, baby," Phil 
laughed. Then she sensed a frown in his voice. 
"Anything wrong? Is everything all right?"

Mavis refrained from speaking for a moment as the 
firecrackers stopped blasting in her swat. "I'm not 
sure." Then a boldness crept into her mind. "Miriam 
made a bizarre and startling proposal today." Before he 
could interrupt, the words cascaded from Mavis' lips, 
"She suggested we join her and Henry in mate-swapping!"

"The hell!" Phil whistled and Mavis couldn't read in 
his voice whether he was for it or against it.

"She said," Mavis forced herself to giggle, "that it 
stimulates marriage. Can you imagine?"

She was waiting for his condemnation of the proposal, 
but all he said was, "We'll talk about it when I get 
home in about four days." And he hung up.

Was he in favor of screwing some other woman and having 
his own wife fucked by another man? God! She couldn't 
tell from his terse comments.

Mavis' slumber was troubled and restless. She dreamed 
over and over that her husband was slipping between her 
veed thighs -- but just as he was about to glide his 
big, hard cock into her pussy, she opened her eyes and 
saw the faces of Willie Quentin and Henry Carr and Dell 
Emerson and Mickey Lewis, the basketball coach who had 
moved into the neighborhood such a short time before. 
Their eyes were hot and wild and lewd and they fucked 
her, one after the other. And Phil was watching, as 
were Miriam and Connie. And she saw him fucking them!

She wakened, gratefully, to the persistent jangle of 
the telephone. It was Miriam Carr -- and it was nearly 
ten o'clock in the morning. Miriam suggested she come 
over for mid-morning coffee. After the nettlesome 
dreams, Mavis was almost elated to receive an 
invitation to do something -- get out of the lonely 
house. Gone from her mind was the dream of Connie and 
Miriam watching her being diddled by their husbands.

"You woke me and I'm glad, Miriam!" Mavis laughed 
shakily. "Just give me about half an hour for a quick 
shower and time to throw on some clothes!"

After showering and briskly drying her opulent body, 
Mavis quickly selected a snowy mini-bra and matching 
bikini panties. She hummed softly as she shimmied her 
firm fanny into the briefs. Leaning forward slightly, 
she adjusted the half-cups over the proud prominence of 
her cone-shaped boobies. "Aaaaaaahthh," she sighed with 
pleasure as the cool laciness snuggled against her 
smooth flesh that was still tingling from the shower 
and brisk toweling.

She slipped into a light linen blouse that buttoned up 
the front. With a faint smile of satisfaction she 
inspected her reflection. The blouse displayed the deep 
cleft between her breasts in a low-cut vee. Then she 
stepped into a miniskirt and zipped it up the back. The 
hem struck her at mid-thigh, showing lots of creamy 
leg.

Before slipping through the gate of the high, chain-
link fence, Mavis paused to peer at the lofty, rugged 
Wasatch Mountains that ringed the Utah capital to the 
east. They were mysterious, foreboding and beautiful. 
Then she hurried on to the Carrs' home. The faraway 
reverberation of chimes had barely died away and Miriam 
opened the back door.

"Come in, neighbor," Miriam smiled warmly. "Connie will 
be along pretty soon. We had a kind of wild little 
party last night and she has a slight hangover."

Mavis sat down at the kitchen table, aware of a tight, 
nervous feeling, a fluttering tension in her womb. Had 
she been right? Had the Quentins and the Carts had a 
little swap party last night? Would she and Phil have 
been invited if Phil hadn't been in Wyoming on an 
insurance case? The thought was naughtily exciting and 
frightening at the same time. Phil, on the telephone, 
had given her no clue how he would have reacted under 
such circumstances.

She didn't protest as Miriam laced their coffee with 
brandy and took a chair opposite her. "Have you thought 
about our conversation yesterday afternoon, Mavis?"

A tightness in her chest made breathing a little 
difficult and the tips of her breasts felt icy. "A 
little," she said, voice slightly choked. "Phil called 
last night and..." she paused to sip the brandy and 
coffee... "I mentioned it to him."

"Well?"

"He didn't say much," Mavis hedged, not wanting to meet 
Miriam's excited, glinting eyes. "I don't know," she 
muttered. "Oh, Miriam, I'm not sure it's right -- 
swapping, letting some other woman's husband do it to 
you..." Words failed.

"Crap!" Miriam laughed brightly. "He isn't just doing 
it to you, you're getting your jollies from him! Like I 
said, it adds spice to life and enriches your own 
marriage. It makes husband and wife appreciate each 
other that much more!"

Mavis wasn't convinced; her mind was still assailed by 
doubt. Had Miriam had Willie Quentin in bed with her 
last night while her own husband was diddling Connie? 
Maybe, as she had speculated last night, they had 
swapped and fucked right in the den!

She gulped at her coffee and brandy. She was dismayed 
at the sudden torrid sensation centered in the pit of 
her tummy. Miriam's hand was on her left wrist. THAT 
hand had been in her tormented groove yesterday 
afternoon and it had produced a heavenly sensation. She 
had never had another woman's hand on her most intimate 
place before in her life. It had been a strange and 
exciting and forbidden pleasure! She wondered if she 
would submit to it again, if Miriam made a pass. She 
pressed her thighs together. She wasn't sure, but she 
sensed she would let Miriam masturbate her, if she made 
the gesture!

A sudden surge of shame failed to stem the rising tide 
of need and passion.

"You may have some doubts right now, honey," Miriam 
said, and Mavis detected a tone of nebulous threat 
behind the bright, lively voice, "but you'll see things 
my way -- and we'll all have a wonderful swinging life. 
What's better, anyway, than one well-hung hubby, than 
two or three or four?"

My God! Mavis frowned inwardly. How many different men 
did Miriam and Connie bed? She may have been a 
prostitute for a short time, but that was out of 
necessity. She had never, never considered giving her 
body to several men -- for free! Yet, that seemed to be 
what Miriam was suggesting.

In the next instant, Mavis was stunned. It was as if 
Miriam had read her thoughts. "Honey, I know all about 
those few months right after you graduated from Brigham 
Young University. Now, don't be ashamed or frightened. 
Hank found out about it while he was investigating the 
theft at the jewelry store where you worked -- 
afterwards."

Mavis' entire body felt cold and she thought she was 
going to faint. My God! Miriam and Henry knew she had 
been a prostitute! She was speechless. It would just 
kill her -- and Phil -- and her marriage if Miriam told 
other people! Had she told the Quentins? She had never 
felt such morbid misery in her life. Even her first 
customer as a young whore hadn't made her feel this 
remorseful! And she knew she couldn't bluff Miriam that 
she didn't know what she was talking about. MIRIAM 
KNEW!

"Don't worry, honey. Hank and I understand the 
circumstances. We know you had to do it -- no work and 
all sorts of financial obligations. Lots of girls and 
women do it for a lot less reason. Now you cheer up! 
Let's have another brandy royal. Hank and I have never 
considered telling anyone else -- much less Phil."

Mavis watched the lithe, agile woman rise to replenish 
their drinks. Despite Miriam's words of reassurance, 
she knew her terrible secret wasn't safe with them. It 
was a club over her head. It virtually made her a 
captive of Miriam, a lever to compel her to do whatever 
Miriam wanted to do. And what Miriam wanted to do was 
introduce her and Phil into a wife-swapping ring. 
Miriam wanted to have Phil in bed and her to screw 
Henry.

Mavis' thoughts were in such a turmoil that the coffee 
and brandy seemed tasteless. This was something she 
couldn't confide to her husband! For the very thing she 
would have to tell him was the thing she thought she 
didn't dare for him to ever find out!

"You have met Terry and Mickey Lewis, haven't you?" 
Miriam changed the topic of conversation. And Mavis was 
dully aware of her hostess rising to let the family 
pet, a well-disciplined boxer, into the house. Vision 
blurred, she watched the handsome animal trot into the 
utility room. She heard him rustling and turning before 
lying down.

"I know them slightly," Mavis said absently, striving 
to overcome the shock of having been informed that her 
neighbors knew she had practiced as a prostitute for a 
time before marrying Phil.

Returning to her chair, Miriam said, "Connie is having 
her over tomorrow afternoon. We're going to teach her 
to play bridge. You play, don't you?"

Mavis nodded vacantly. There had been a standing joke 
at BYU that bridge was an audit course attended between 
classes.

"Why don't you join us, honey; it takes four to play."

There was that impish, secretive tone in Miriam's voice 
again. And Mavis' mind tormented her -- play what? A 
mental picture of Terry Lewis flashed in her mind. She 
was a small young woman -- about five feet, a pixie 
face and orangish hair. She had been a cheerleader in 
college. Someone had said she had married Mickey last 
June right after graduation from Utah State at Logan.

The initial shock of Miriam revealing she knew all 
about her past was waning and the alcohol was warming 
her body, the chill was passing. Miriam was so casual 
and nonchalant, evincing no sign of condemnation and 
consternation that her neighbor had been a prostitute 
for a short time. There was an aura of warmth about 
Miriam and this comforted Mavis. The fact that Miriam 
could twist her and bend her was slipping into the back 
of her mind.

The brandy was numbing her sense of reality and Miriam 
had said she and Henry wouldn't reveal her shameful 
secret. Listening to Miriam's cheerful chatter lulled 
and soothed her. There was a comfortable air of 
camaraderie in the kitchen as the two of them sat 
there, sipping coffee and brandy. Mavis knew she was 
getting a little drunk, but the deep sense of 
loneliness was fading. She glanced at Miriam and her 
mind reminded her -- this is the woman who helped you 
masturbate and gave you such intense pleasure.

And Mavis felt no shame. Instead, a sexy warmth flooded 
all through her body. Sharp flashes of heat darted up 
her inner thighs into her crotch and seemed to explode 
in little boom-booms of miniature rolling thunder deep 
in her insides, igniting little searing fires that 
licked through her vagina, from the swollen lips of the 
vulva into the womb. She glanced across the table at 
Miriam. "You're a good friend and neighbor, Miriam," 
she muttered, tongue a little thick, sex channel 
bubbling and burning with sexual need.

Maybe, her slightly fuzzy mind goaded her, Miriam would 
help her relieve the passionate, tormenting need. Oh, 
she didn't want Miriam's husband, her mind seemed to 
cower. She suppressed a giggle as a naughty little 
thought flashed. She didn't want the police dick's 
prick!

Her eyes swung from her coffee cup back to Miriam. 
Mavis squinted slightly. Miriam seemed unaware that the 
belt of her shorty housecoat had loosened and the vee 
at the throat was gaping open dangerously. The lapel 
folds already had sagged sufficiently that Mavis could 
see the rich inner surface of the two globes of firm, 
creamy flesh.

Miriam's eyes seemed slightly feverish as she returned 
Mavis' glance. She is aware, Mavis told herself, 
draining her cup. And her own pulse jumped. She had 
heard and read about woman-love.

Lesbianism!

Instead of feeling revulsion, she was conscious of 
leaping excitement.

"Let's fill up our cups again and go in the living 
room," Miriam said softly, tilting the coffee maker and 
the bottle of brandy. "Connie should be along pretty 
soon."

Lightheaded and slightly uncertain on her feet, Mavis 
followed the slender woman who was about equal to her 
own five feet six.

As if by subconscious design, Mavis sat down on the 
plush davenport. If she were going to get any sex fun 
from Miriam it would be here. She watched Miriam sit 
across the long cocktail table from her in a swivel 
rocker. Miriam's housecoat was wrapped looser still and 
Mavis could almost see the full left breast; a part of 
the dark aureole that surrounded a pointy nipple was 
visible. As she crossed her legs, Miriam let the two 
folds of the robe divide on either side of her sleek, 
tapering thighs. And Mavis wondered if the hazel-haired 
woman was as naked from the waist down as she was from 
the waist up.

Mavis sat for a couple of minutes, knees parted to let 
Miriam gaze on her panty-swathed crotch, then casually 
crossed her legs. Inner thigh muscles tensed 
involuntarily, hugging the ripe mound and thick labia. 
She itched with excitement -- there -- and had to 
resist the mounting temptation to scratch and rub and 
fondle.

"It's nearly noon," Miriam pouted. "I wonder where 
Connie is."

A little drunk and daring, Mavis blurted out, "Probably 
playing with herself!"

Miriam's laughter tinkled deliciously in the still air 
of the vast room.

"Possibly! Perhaps I should call her again."

Mavis twinged with jealousy at the thought of having a 
third person there to interfere with possible sex-play 
between her and Miriam. "Oh, let her be! She'll be 
along pretty soon -- you said so yourself!"

"All right, honey!" Miriam laughed and winked. "Don't 
you, really, think having the affections of three or 
four men would be more fun than having to settle for 
just your hubby, Mavis?"

Mavis cowered mentally and she wished that Miriam 
hadn't broached the subject again about mate-swapping. 
"Oh, I don't know!"

What she wanted to say was... let's not talk about men; 
play with my pussy! I've never done it, but the 
thoughts of girl-girl love are exciting! Can't you see 
I'm all steamed up and need my cunny cooled off?

Mavis had to refrain from bending forward for a closer 
look as Miriam leaned across the cocktail table as she 
uncrossed her legs. Not only did Miriam shave her 
armpits, but she also shaved her pussy! There wasn't a 
sign of pubic growth and the full lips gaped, pouting 
slightly, and Mavis wondered if Willie Quentin had 
plowed them apart with the head of his penis last night 
and shoved his cock through them and into Miriam's 
body!

"See this box, Mavis?" Miriam smiled, slowly drawing 
her thighs together and shielding her shorn groin from 
Mavis' eyes.

"Huh? Oh? Yes!" Mavis recovered her poise quickly.

She watched Miriam push it toward her with the tips of 
her fingers. "Open it!" Miriam invited. A present? 
Mavis wondered. "For me, Miriam?"

"Perhaps," Miriam replied and Mavis failed to detect 
the smirk on her lips and in her voice.

She set the cup on the table and picked up the fancy 
wooden box. Holding it on her thighs, she freed the 
brass catches and tilted the lid back toward Miriam. 
She glanced inside and slammed the lid.

Miriam laughed delightedly. "Open it! No, I didn't chop 
off Hank's business! It's too precious!"

Feeling a blush stealing up her throat and into her 
face, Mavis again opened the box and stared closely. A 
dildo! What, she wondered, did Miriam need one of these 
things for when she had her husband and Willie Quentin 
and Lord knows how many others in their circle of 
swapping friends?

For a minute, Mavis stammered unintelligibly. It was 
very realistic, every detail of blood veins and glans 
and hairy testes elaborately recreated. The shaft of 
the thing was every bit as long as her husband's nine 
inches -- but it appeared to be at least half an inch 
thicker!

Again slamming the lid, Mavis found her voice, 
recoiling from the thought of using such a thing on her 
own pussy. "What do you need such a thing for?" Her 
face burned with a fever of embarrassment. She felt a 
little dirty, just looking at such a contraption in the 
presence of another woman.

"You might be surprised!" Miriam chuckled with immense 
pleasure.

Without wanting to, Mavis again opened the box to study 
the artificial penis and gonads. The testes were the 
size of golf balls! And the hair on the gadget was as 
realistic as if it had been taken from a man's groin.

An amusing thought struck Mavis and she giggled, 
"Where's the asshole?" She was tempted to remove the 
contraption from the box, stroke the long, thick shaft. 
The skin looked as resilient as that of a real, live 
hard pecker. She tilted the box slightly and saw that 
the blunt point had a slit in it -- just like the 
genuine cock!

She was so engrossed in examining the hefty dildo, she 
was only vaguely aware that the Carrs' boxer swaggered 
in. It happened quickly and Mavis saw it only from the 
corner of her eye and wasn't sure she had really seen 
it at all. But she thought Miriam had spread her thighs 
wide and the stub-nosed canine had swabbed his tongue a 
couple of times up through Miriam's smooth, hairless 
crotch.

Then the chimes fractured the silence and Miriam rose 
to respond. The dog remained behind, sitting beside 
Miriam's chair. Mavis' eyes followed Miriam as she 
swept past and she noticed her hostess hadn't bothered 
to adjust her robe. A fleshy, uptilted left breast 
protruded saucily through the floppy vee -- and the 
folds just barely covered her lower region.

Mavis touched the artificial organ experimentally and 
withdrew her hand, slamming the lid. It felt very 
realistic, firm and rigid, yet pliable. She glanced at 
the dog and frowned. Filthy dog! she thought. About two 
inches of his slick, bright red tool extended from the 
hairy sheath of skin. Her stomach rolled slightly as 
the dog bowed his great head between his front legs and 
he licked nosily at his penis. Then he flopped over on 
his side and washed his black-skinned balls.

Yet, Mavis was mildly fascinated as she watched the 
slick rod move in and out of its protective pouch that 
was swollen with a knob far back toward his rear end.

Mavis' attention was diverted as Miriam returned, 
followed by the black-haired Connie Quentin. "Errol 
Flynn," Miriam scolded, "get back in the utility room."

Miriam had returned with a coffee maker and the bottle 
of brandy. Mavis shuffled over slightly as Connie sat 
down beside her on the sofa. "Hi, Mavis. God, I had a 
helluva hangover this morning!"

"Mavis suggested you were late because you might have 
been playing with yourself!" Miriam chuckled lightly.

Mavis cowered back against the sofa with intense 
awkward embarrassment. Why had Miriam said such a 
thing? She waited for an indignant reaction from Connie 
as Miriam managed three more cups of brandy and coffee.

"God forbid!" Connie snorted, picking up her cup. "I 
felt so damned queasy I never even thought about it! 
When I woke up I was in no condition or mood for hard 
cock or masturbating!"

"It was only a stupid comment," Mavis said numbly. "I 
didn't mean anything, Connie."

"That doesn't bother me, hon!" Connie said, patting 
Mavis' bare right thigh companionable. Then she 
giggled. "After what I got last night, I don't think my 
twatty was primed for sexy convulsions anyway!"

Mavis watched Miriam and Connie light cigarettes, the 
tenseness of a minute before evaporating and she felt 
more comfortable.

"Well," Miriam said, as casually as if saying 'Mavis 
has a headache,' "Mavis is hard-up and has a needy, 
greedy vag."

"What do you expect, Miriam," Connie defended hugging 
Mavis' shoulders, "her stud is out of town and he 
probably hasn't given her any for quite a few days."

If the conversation hadn't been so casual, Mavis was 
certain she would have felt mortified. How could these 
two beautiful women talk so nonchalantly about sex and 
intercourse and masturbation?

"He's probably getting all kinds of strange nookey 
while he's away," Miriam said cattily.

Mavis was a little too drunk to feel more than a twinge 
of hurt. She trusted Phil implicitly, had never even 
considered he might lay some other woman when he was 
out of town on business. The thought of him mounting 
someone else, making love to her with his dexterous 
dong caused a surging ache in her heart. Would he do 
that to her -- when she wasn't getting enough nookey, 
herself?

"I know for a fact Mavis isn't getting all the cock her 
canny needs!" Miriam giggled. And Mavis knew she was 
blushing again. She felt extremely clumsy and ashamed 
as Miriam continued. "I even helped her get her gun off 
yesterday afternoon didn't I, Mavis?"

Mavis couldn't meet the glittering eyes of her hostess. 
And she knew that Connie was excited by the 
conversation by the way she pinched her fingers into 
the smooth flesh of her thigh.

She wished she could get the box with Miriam's sex tool 
off her lap without their noticing. Actually, it might 
be fun using the thing, but the idea of a dildo in 
company with other women was repulsive to her.

"Before you came, I was letting her look at my girl's 
best friend if her guy's not around," Miriam pursued.

In spite of her embarrassment, Mavis was keenly aware 
of the twinging need deep in her womb. Somehow, 
intuitively, Mavis knew that she was going to be the 
object of Miriam's and Connie's perverted pleasure.

"Let me see," Connie said, opening the box. Mavis 
couldn't help herself; her eyes were drawn to the huge, 
artificial hard-on and simulated hairy testes. The 
slick head drew her attention and her twat fluttered, 
creating an ache in the area of the cervix. It was so 
huge! She wasn't sure her channel could accommodate 
such a mammoth shaft and bulbous glans.

Connie's hand had stolen under the hem of Mavis' skirt 
and the tips of her fingers were teasing and kneading 
only inches from her plump, firm mound. The strange 
hand playing around down there sent little thrills of 
ecstasy through her pelvis and her loins itched.

Mavis knew, with almost certainty, that these two young 
women were going to use the dildo on her -- she felt 
like a captive, powerless to resist. Yet, she knew she 
could jump up and flee to her own house -- but her will 
wasn't strong enough. As Connie scratched a nail 
against the sheer panties, grating the coarse pubic 
mesh, Mavis tried to press her thighs together over her 
hot snatch. But her knees crept apart, giving Connie's 
fingers freer access to her crotch. Mavis leaned back 
against the sofa, tried to stifle her shallow 
breathing. She knew she was going to be fucked with the 
dildo, that Miriam and Connie were going to ply it into 
her cove and get their kicks from violating her!

With eyes half-closed, she saw Miriam rise from her 
chair and set aside her cup. Someone took the box with 
the tool from her hands and she was conscious of being 
pushed over on the sofa. Hands were pushing her skirt 
up around her waist and fingers were playing with her 
tummy. Then there was a fumbling with the waistband of 
her bikini panties and they were being shucked from 
around her taut buttocks and down her thighs, off over 
her feet. She was naked down there!

Gentle, yet demanding hands were pushing her feet up, 
knees far apart.

Fingers were toying with her pussy petals, caressing, 
pinching, parting. She turned her head and saw Miriam, 
stark naked, holding the big instrument. She was about 
to get that huge prod poked into her vagina. And she 
just knew it was long enough to penetrate beyond the 
cervix, into the womb. The realization caused her 
uterus to flutter and ache hungrily.

A fingertip was goading her clitoris, but Mavis 
couldn't see that. Between the vee of her upraised 
thighs she could see Connie's amused face. And above 
was Miriam, her hands holding the immense dildo. She 
released it with one hand, let the big head dangle 
toward her face. It was so near, Mavis felt her eyes 
were crossing as she stared in slight fright at the 
realistic head with the narrow slot in the blunt tip.

"Open your mouth, sugar," Miriam urged, patting Mavis' 
blonde hair. "We must get it moistened; you'll do that 
with your mouth."

Oh, God! Mavis quailed. The thing even smelled like a 
man's sex gadget! And she was about to have it thrust 
into her mouth. Miriam was going to fuck that 
artificial cock into her mouth -- down her throat? "No, 
no, no!" she whimpered -- but her lips parted, mouth 
opened wide. And Miriam worked the huge knob deep into 
her mouth and screwed it around. She pried it in deeper 
and Mavis nearly gagged as the fake cockhead was goaded 
into her gullet; deeper and deeper and deeper until the 
hairy balls sagged against her chin and the upper pubic 
growth tickled her upper lip and nose. Only once when 
she was working as a prostitute -- had she ever had 
anything like it in her mouth. A customer had given her 
an extra hundred dollars for oral sex. Now, she was 
being fucked in the mouth with a dildo! And it tasted 
salty and musky -- just like that man's hot, hard 
peter. The only difference was -- he only had about 
four inches of pecker!

Slowly, Miriam withdrew the thing and Mavis was 
conscious of Miriam and Connie shifting positions. Then 
-- her ass humped and bucked. Miriam was working the 
big rod into her snatch. Oh, good, good! It was being 
drilled into her feverish cant, deep, deep -- deeper. A 
finger was rubbing and rasping her extended clit and 
Mavis knew she was going to have a booming cum before 
Miriam succeeded in ramming it into the balls.

"I'm going to do it!" Mavis croaked, cheeks of her ass 
tensing and bouncing for more of the gimmick in her 
snatch. "I'm cumming!" she howled. "Please! More! Cram 
it into me! I'm cumming! Fuck it to me fast! I need 
lots of fucking!"

She didn't care if Miriam and Connie were laughing, 
gloating as they shoved the synthetic prick into her 
body. She was on fire inside and her loins burned, 
flanks heaved with the effort and pleasure of having 
the breeding tool socked into her.

There was a grinding, twisting, levering in her vagina 
and Mavis felt she was about to faint from the erotic, 
heavenly impulses that stabbed all through her belly. 
Even her rectum seemed ablaze and she wondered, hazily 
as she up-fucked her bottom, if it were possible to 
have a rectal orgasm.

It was! Sensual pleasure was rippling all through her 
as Miriam continued to fuck her with the big pussy 
jabber. She wanted to relax and enjoy the cascading 
waves of enjoyment, but Miriam continued to cram her 
twat with the thing. Then, as if far away, she heard 
Connie's frantic voice.

"Pull it out of her, Miriam! I'm going to eat her 
pussy! I haven't had a good piece of hair pie in a long 
time! And I'm going to gobble Mavis' snatch! God! Her 
cunt smells aromatic and glorious. And I'm going to 
tongue her pussy good!"


Chapter 4


Mavis only hazily remembered Miriam and Connie dressing 
her, after they had used her body for their own sport. 
It was only mid-afternoon and she barely remembered 
stumbling home. Her vagina burned and ached from the 
plundering and reaming with the massive dildo and 
Connie's voracious mouth.

What was clear in her mind was the animated 
conversation between Connie and Miriam as they had 
adjusted her clothing. Connie had asked if "Mavis and 
Phil would join them." Mate-swapping!

And Miriam had said it still wasn't settled -- she 
wasn't sure Phil would cooperate "but Mavis will play 
the game our way!" Well, she had already played part of 
their sex-game, hadn't she? But, how much further would 
she have to go? What did they have in mind? Mavis 
cringed mentally, her body shook as if chilled. Miriam 
had the lever to force her to do just about anything! 
She considered running away -- but that would mean 
leaving Phil!

She hurried to the master bedroom and undressed 
quickly, then showered in a stinging cold spray. 
Somehow, she knew Phil wouldn't consent to swapping and 
swinging with the Quentins and Carrs. And what did 
Miriam and Connie have planned for the petite Terry 
Lewis? Was Terry promiscuous -- a swinger -- or not? 
Mavis couldn't even guess.

Even after showering, Mavis' mind felt saturated with 
Miriam's brandy; she was woozy and sleepy. She felt 
that Phil wouldn't call again, would be home on Monday. 
Bare, she slipped into the unmade bed, resolved to 
sleep through the rest of the day and the night. She 
would decide tomorrow how to counter Miriam's threat to 
expose her past and force her to engage in sex with 
hers and Connie's husbands. She sensed that Connie and 
Miriam didn't want Phil to fuck them nearly as much as 
they wanted Mavis to submit to sexual intercourse with 
their own husbands. Oh, God! Would they watch if they 
succeeded in their devious plans? The very thought of 
having Connie and Miriam watch as their husbands 
screwed her was humiliating!

* * *

Mavis awakened early, spirits blithe, and dressed 
quickly, donning a snug minidress of white silk that 
zippered down the back. Sleep had restored her mental 
serenity, thoughts of her lesbian antics the day before 
with Miriam and Connie fucked deep in the back of her 
mind.

Humming softly, Mavis fixed and ate a light breakfast. 
It was still some time before the bridge session with 
Miriam, Connie and Terry Lewis. She would change the 
sheets and make the bed, she thought, as she brushed 
her teeth.

Resolve strengthened in her mind as she rinsed her 
mouth. She wouldn't get involved in swapping. She 
wouldn't allow herself to be seduced by Willie Quentin 
or Henry Carr or Mickey Lewis or Dell Emerson. Then her 
conviction wavered as she thought of Miriam telling 
Phil that she had worked as a whore! She loved her 
husband and her body was only for his pleasure -- but 
would he bounce her ass out of his house if he knew 
about her past?

She was just daintying herself up after sitting on the 
throne when the telephone rang. She hurried her 
ministrations with the folds of tissue and flushed the 
toilet. With panties still draped around her lower 
thighs, just above the knees, she bobbed to answer it. 
Surely it wasn't Connie and Mavis; too early. Phil?

"Hello?" Mavis breathed, trying to tug up her panties 
with one hand. She was able to hitch them up her legs 
in front, but the elastic band refused to budge over 
the lower crown of her rump.

"This is Mr. Quentin, Mavis," the faraway voice sounded 
impersonal, slightly severe.

"Golly!" Mavis exclaimed, glancing at the clock on the 
nightstand. Ten-fifteen. "I can't work in the store 
today, I have an engagement to help Connie and Miriam 
teach Terry how to play bridge."

There was a brief silence and Mavis squirreled her ass 
around, trying to get her skivvies up over the smooth 
loaves. "I know that; Connie told me," Willie said. "I 
didn't call you about working, Mavis -- Mrs. Moran. I 
want you to come down to my office as soon as you can. 
Something has come up -- something disturbing."

"In a little bit," Mavis murmured, disturbed by Willie 
Quentin's stern tone.

She replaced the receiver and hitched her panties into 
place, snug over her butt and plush, hairy mound. He 
actually sounded disturbed and slightly angry, she 
thought, dressing quickly and hurrying downstairs and 
getting her purse from the hall closet. For a bit, she 
thought that the old Ford wasn't going to start, then 
it clattered to life and she drove hastily to the 
store, parking around back near the loading dock.

She entered through a back door and climbed the dimly 
lit wooden stairs in the storeroom to Willie Quentin's 
large comfortable office. There was a large skylight 
and a small window that looked down on the store. She 
had been here on several occasions. Willie had had a 
moderate-sized bathroom installed, as well as a small 
bedroom. Willie had explained that if an employee 
became ill, there was a place of comfort for him until 
a doctor or ambulance arrived. Also, he said sometimes 
it was convenient to rest for a couple of hours. Mavis 
knew that Willie often spent sixteen or seventeen hours 
at the store. A three-person elevator provided quick 
access from his office to the store.

She knocked on the door and was invited in instantly by 
an intercom speaker. A buzz told her that the lock on 
the door was disengaged and she turned the knob and 
pushed.

Willie Quentin was seated behind his desk, ledgers open 
before him. Mavis could see the long fluorescent tubes 
of the ceiling lighting in the store through the small 
window above and behind his head.

"Is something wrong, Willie?" Mavis asked, a tightness 
in her throat.

She was aware of faint perspiration in her underarms.

"Wrong and disturbing!" Willie frowned, tapping the 
eraser end of his pencil on the books. "Sit down, 
Mavis."

She was aware of his eyes following her as she eased 
into a leather chair slightly to the right of his desk. 
His gaze was on her knees briefly as she pushed at the 
hem of her skirt. "Is it something I did, Willie?" She 
didn't really need this job -- but it paid enough to 
provide all of hers and Phil's groceries and liquor.

"What have I done -- or do you think I've done?" Mavis 
demanded, fright worming into her mind.

"It appears, Mavis," Willie began slowly, "that there 
is a shortage in store funds. It appears, Mavis, you 
have been -- shall I say tapping the till? I hate to 
say it, sweetie, but that's what it looks like!"

"That's impossible," Mavis gasped, tense as a rubber 
band. "Whoever says I stole from the store is a damned 
liar!" she spat out. That was one thing of which she 
had never been accused in her life.

"Maybe, maybe not, Mavis," Willie shook his head, 
unkempt red hair bobbing, blue eyes icy as he peered at 
her. "You do realize how embarrassing and uncomfortable 
this makes me, don't you, hon? The wife of one of my 
best friends implicated in minor embezzlement. If you 
and Phil were short of cash, why didn't you mention it 
to me and Connie? Our friends needn't steal!"

"I didn't!" Mavis groaned, feeling faint and on the 
verge of crying. "I wouldn't steal! We're not short of 
funds! This -- this whole thing is just simply 
impossible!" There was a nagging feeling of futility 
mingled with the needling thought she was being framed.

"And to make it doubly, damnably worse, when I have to 
report the shortage... your own husband -- my friend -- 
might be assigned to investigate the theft. And find 
out his own wife was the thief!"

"I AM NOT!" Mavis screamed at him, the tears coming 
now, running down her cheeks, falling from her chin 
onto her breasts that seemed smothered in the tight, 
white silk dress.

"We sure as hell don't want Ben Glover investigating 
this," Willie moaned, snapping the pencil in half with 
one hand and hurling it into a wastebasket.

The name, hazily, was familiar. Ben Glover had helped 
Phil on the jewelry store theft. And he had been an 
infrequent guest at the Carr home, had played poker 
with Willie and Phil and Henry. He had a mean, 
treacherous and lecherous attitude. She didn't like 
him!

Mavis' thoughts seemed to cascade over each other. She 
wasn't guilty, but she could go to the bank and get 
enough to make good Willie's shortage. Surely Phil 
would understand if she spent a couple of hundred 
dollars on "silly girl whims". "I didn't take it," she 
sniffled, finding a handkerchief and trying to dry her 
eyes. "But I'll get the money and you can replace it? 
Phil needn't know about this and I'm sure he won't 
complain about a hundred dollars or so."

"Oh, Mavis!" Willie blurted, "if it were only that 
much, I'd gladly take it right out of my own wallet! 
But I can't cover two thousand bucks! And let you off 
with a stern, fatherly talking to!"

TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS!

Mavis nearly fainted. She was conscious of Willie 
opening his desk and setting a bottle and two glasses 
on the top. Through frightened and tear-streaked eyes 
she watched him pour the glasses about half full. "Tell 
you what, honey, if you can get a thousand dollars, 
Connie and I will chip in the other thousand."

A THOUSAND DOLLARS!

She sipped at the raw whiskey, barely conscious of the 
bite and harsh sting. God! Would Phil forgive her for 
tapping their savings account to pay off something she 
didn't owe! And it was generous of Willie to offer to 
go halfway on the loss! She glanced at his unsmiling 
face as he perched on the edge of his huge desk.

"I think I can get that much," she said bitterly, more 
frightened than ever. "But, please, not a word to Phil. 
I'll explain it some way -- the thousand dollars 
withdrawn from our savings."

Her tear-glazed eyes were drawn to Willie's slowly 
swinging foot. It was almost hypnotic. The focus 
cleared slightly and her gaze traveled idly up his leg 
-- and stopped. It seemed the tented bulge in his pants 
was abnormally large and her mind idly contemplated how 
big he was. With that kind of prominence, his balls had 
to be large and his penis immense!

Mavis' mind was jarred to reality when Willie spoke, 
almost harshly. "We better put back the money as soon 
as possible, then. Christ! There is always the dreadful 
possibility that if this thing gets out of my hands, 
Mavis, you could go to prison!"

She gasped from the horrible implication and 
possibility of being locked up like a common criminal 
for something she hadn't done. "But, I didn't do it in 
the first place!"

"How soon can you get your thousand dollars, Mavis?" 
Willie asked, replenishing their drinks. "Everything 
points to you!"

"This is Saturday -- not until Monday."

She studied his somber expression. "I think I can cover 
and hold out until then," he murmured thoughtfully. "As 
you know, the Saturday receipts of the nine stores in 
the area are always brought here for a double check, 
then taken by armored van for night deposit. Even if, 
by chance, store officials should detect the shortage, 
it won't be too difficult to explain an inadvertent 
error -- after all, it would be simple when one person 
-- me -- is dealing with something around a quarter of 
a million dollars."

Mavis felt a flood of gratitude toward Willie. After 
all, he was going to use a thousand dollars of his 
money to help shield her. "I can't get my thousand 
until Monday, either, come to think of it. And I'll 
have to tell Connie."

"Well, don't tell Phil!" Mavis pleaded.

Mavis stopped breathing as Willie's piercing blue eyes 
held hers for a long moment, then he looked away. "It's 
a big favor I'm doing you, Mavis -- a thousand-dollar 
favor!"

"I know, Willie," she muttered. And she felt that her 
agreement was tantamount to admitting she was guilty of 
embezzling from the store. "I don't know how I can 
repay you for absorbing half of the theft -- that I 
didn't commit!" she added one more effort of self-
defense.

"Perhaps not, Mavis," Willie shook his head, tone 
weary, "but it occurs to me that there is one little 
thing you can do for me that will take part of the 
sting out of my giving up a thousand bucks of my money. 
Phil need never know... Connie will never know... no 
one will know -- except just us."

Mavis was aware of a sinking, sickening sensation like 
a cold lump in her belly. There were strings attached 
to Willie's sharing the theft loss with her!

She dreaded asking what it was -- but knew she would in 
a minute. And she knew she would do whatever it was 
Willie wanted her to do.

"What do you want me to do, Willie?" she asked, feeling 
hopeless and helpless. She couldn't meet his gaze, 
instead dropped her eyes and stared again at his slowly 
swinging foot. Intuitively, she knew what he was going 
to demand.

"No one but us will ever know," Willie repeated softly.

"What the hell is it?" Mavis almost screamed at him.

"Let's fuck!" he said bluntly.

Mavis was stunned. For a moment her mind wouldn't 
function. Yet, she had sensed what he was going to 
require of her. He wanted to use her body in payment 
for his big, thousand-dollar favor!

Mavis laughed shrilly, giddily. God! how ludicrous and 
ironically funny. Before Willie had called her, she had 
just about made up her mind to defy Miriam and Connie 
and tell them swapping was out, as far as she was 
concerned. Yet, now, she was backed into a corner she 
hadn't counted on. And Willie had his own lever to get 
to her. And it seemed more catastrophical than the 
threat of Miriam telling everyone she had once -- only 
briefly -- been a prostitute. All by himself, Willie 
had a way to get into her panties! The prospect of 
going to prison was terrifying!

Who could have stolen the money, her mind worried. Dell 
Emerson? She knew he needed money desperately to 
continue in law school. And he wanted to marry Becky 
Samon. But he needed his job at the store. Would he 
risk losing it by stealing from his employer? Oh, God! 
Everything was so complicated and confusing.

"Well?" Willie pursued gently, voice mild.

She met his gaze briefly. His eyes seemed kindly and 
sincere. With a gulp, she disposed of the remainder of 
the whiskey in her glass and set it on the corner of 
his desk. She struggled for words. "Just this one time, 
Willie? That will be it? You won't pressure me into 
doing it with you again? Like -- like blackmail?"

"My God, no!" Willie grunted, tone of voice injured. 
"And don't look at it in that light, Mavis! Just call 
it a favor for a favor! I've admired you for so long. 
You're beautiful and alluring! Phil is so lucky to have 
such a ravishing beauty for a wife!"

"Connie is beautiful, Willie," Mavis snapped, rising to 
her feet. Her insides felt cold and she wondered if her 
unwilling vagina could or would accommodate his 
instrument. Something in her mind seemed to assume the 
roll of cold logic -- play it like a whore... take him 
in... work him off fast and get his thing out of you!

With trembling fingers, she fumbled at the buttons of 
her dress. A torrid lightning bolt lanced through her, 
seeming to start in her breasts and exploding deep in 
the womb. "One time and one time only, Willie! I'll 
fuck you just this once!"

She slipped her arms out of the dress and let it drape 
down over her hips. She smiled faintly as he stared at 
her pale, smooth skin, eyes ogling the luscious breasts 
that were barely contained by the low-cup bra. His 
swelling erection was about ready to poke through his 
zipper. She felt he would blow his wad fast and she 
would be done with him -- wouldn't even get up a sweat.

She freed the remaining buttons and let the dress fall 
around her ankles and stepped out of it. Slowly, she 
turned before Willie, clad in nothing but panties, bra 
and slippers. Take a good look, she thought, grateful 
for the whiskey she had drunk. Look good -- maybe 
you'll unload in your shorts and I won't have to screw 
you, after all!

"In the bedroom... in the bedroom!" Willie panted, 
shucking out of his clothes and stripping down to his 
shorts. Mavis glanced at him briefly, saw the thick 
tufts of red hair growing through the slot of his 
shorts. The ridge of his joint was long and massive, 
bent off to the left. She could tell the swollen glans 
were enormous.

She would bet she could give him a few brisk jackoff 
strokes and his candle would blow apart. But she turned 
and strode into the bedroom. She stood aside as Willie 
whipped the bed down to the fitted bottom sheet. She 
wondered how many times he had done that... how many of 
his employee had found themselves in the middle of this 
bed, taking on this big, redheaded man.

The burning in her channel was almost painful and her 
skin had a tingling sensation of fever. She was about 
to get it... Willie, in seconds, would be plundering 
her pussy with his sex log.

Hands behind her back, up between the shoulder blades, 
Mavis parted the bra hooks and flung it away. At the 
same time, she kicked off her slippers. As Willie 
turned, she slipped by him and crawled into the middle 
of the bed, turned onto her back. She peered at him 
passively as she drew her knees up and spread them, 
letting him stare at the sleek, inner planes of her 
creamy thighs. With both hands she caressed the firm, 
yet pliable flesh and felt wisps of dark blonde pubic 
hair that escaped around the leg hems of her panties. 
She would give him his thousand-dollars' worth! But she 
had to stifle a gasp of dismay as Willie shucked his 
shorts and grasped his shaft with both hands. He had at 
least nine inches and it was larger around than a bat 
handle! And with all that red hair on his body, he was 
second only to an Irish setter!

He was going to fuck her with THAT!

She cowered mentally as he eased onto the bed, on his 
knees. Her body shuddered involuntarily as he placed 
his palms on her narrow, pliable flanks. He forced a 
gasp through her lips as he pressed his thumbs deep 
into her tender flesh, ground them roughly into her 
guts. She was surprised at how cool his hands were on 
her feverish skin. Her fanny bumped slightly and her 
feet drummed the mattress.

Oh, God! She was going to be fucked by this man -- and 
her body wanted it! Her cunny was fairly crawling with 
anticipation for the insertion of his massive pecker! 
"Oh, Phil!" she moaned, wishing, desperately, it was 
her husband who was going to give it to her, pump her 
twat full of man meat!

She strained to help him as he threaded his right arm 
behind her knees and lifted her rump so he could work 
her skivvies off over her taut ass. He peeled them, 
wrong-side out, up her thighs and off over her feet.

And she was stark naked before his covetous lust-filled 
eyes.

Shame was only a nagging ping in the back of her mind 
as she again spread her knees wide, drew her feet up 
until the heels were snug against the bottom cheeks. 
She was going to get it -- she needed it. And her being 
fucked by another man was not adulterous in her mind... 
she wasn't being promiscuous. Circumstances demanded 
that she put out to Willie Quentin.

She steadied herself as Willie placed his hands on her 
knees and eagled them farther apart and crept between 
her quivering thighs. In seconds he would be burrowing 
his huge plunger into her and pumping away, deeper and 
deeper. Then, at the climax of the act, he would hose 
her snatch full of semen -- and her debt to him would 
be paid. With the fingers of both hands, Mavis parted 
the labia to reveal the slick, hot rut to accommodate 
the great head of his prick. She warned it to slide 
smoothly into her, not grind against dry flesh.

But Willie didn't dock her hard. Instead, he plopped 
the massive head into her groove, pushed her hands 
aside so the folds of her pussy, the outer labia, would 
cuddle his glans hot and slick and inviting.

"OOOOOHHHHHH!" she moaned as the head of his cock 
plowed against her swollen clit. She was aware of his 
hands squeezing her feverish, eager, love-sick breasts. 
They weren't hard and cruel -- they kneaded and pinched 
the pointed nipples.

"Pppphhhhhiiiillll!" she yelled. Willie worked the big, 
blunt knob up and down her greedy furrow. 
"Wwwwwwiiiiillllliiiiieeeee!" she panted, trying to get 
her hands down there to guide his sex tusk.

Vaguely, she heard him chuckling softly. She stopped 
twisting her face from side to side to take his mouth 
on hers. Mavis reveled in the harsh sensation of Willie 
biting on her full lips. "Aaaaagggghhhh!" she whimpered 
in sensual anguish as his tongue parted her lips, 
licked against her teeth.

Her mouth opened wide and she clamped her teeth down on 
his rampant, exploring tongue. "Aaaggghh!" she sighed 
as the tip of his oral fucker explored her mouth.

Tongues jousted and twined.

And he found her hole entry with his cock.

Her knees parted... she flung her feet into the air... 
she sought her toes with her hands to draw them up 
toward her head... she expected a brutal plunge of 
pecker into pussy... but Willie worked the head into 
her... easy... slowly... and her cunny was craving 
cock... "Moooorrreeee!" she pleaded.

She felt his cock expanding her... almost heard the 
creak of her pelvic bones as his prick intruded... 
"Pppppphhhhhliilll!" she screamed as his cock burrowed 
deeper and deeper and deeper into her body.

His hands cupped her buttocks, lifting them off the 
mattress until she was pressed down on her shoulders. 
On and on IT came... into her tender, pliable body... 
deeper into her sacred place... further into her 
vagina.

There was a momentary grating as the head of his cock 
grazed the hardness at the cervix and plunged on 
past... deeper and deeper.

Mavis felt with a hand... felt the massive sag of his 
balls that were heavy and hot and hairy. She was 
greasing him good! The juices of her vagina were 
leaking out of her and slicking his great shaft. She 
knew, in minutes, he would be fucking her!

"Fuck the shit out of me!" she hollered harshly as he 
sunk his cock up to the balls in her and she felt his 
nuts plop against her uptilted butt.

Somehow, he had gotten her legs up over his shoulders 
and had full possession. In seconds, she knew, he would 
ram another couple of inches of cock into her snatch.

"I'm going crazy!" Mavis gulped. "Give me cock! Pump 
the prick to me!"

Mavis was aware of tears of shame and remorse streaming 
from her tightly closed eyes. But she didn't care. She 
needed fucking! And Willie was going to give her a 
masterful banging!

He drew far out of her and her cunny was clutching 
greedily at the head of his shaft. "Don't pull your 
cock out of me!" she howled, trying to hump her ass up 
to get it back inside of her.

He rammed deep, into the womb with his great post and 
Mavis gulped, sensing she could almost taste it, it was 
so deep. Her guts growled. Her asshole itched. Her 
rectum was on fire.

But that was because he had worked a massive thumb into 
her butt hole. "Aaaaaahhhhh!" she whimpered, 
squirreling her rump around, gyrating on his pecker and 
thumb at the same time.

Whore! Whore! Whore! her mind taunted her. And she said 
back -- Fuck you! I need fucking! I need a man's cock 
in my swat! I have been needing a good fuck for more 
than a week.

"FFFFUUUCCCKKK MEEEE, WILLLLIIIEEE!" she begged as he 
plugged her hole, corked her sex flask.

His cock, in long smooth, practiced strokes was 
pistoning in and out of her, batting the head against 
the bottom of her sex well. Vaguely, she heard his 
huffing and puffing as he labored, fingers grinding her 
butt meat, thumb gouging her asshole.

"GOOOOOODDDDD FUCKING!" he growled, like an animal as 
he plunged in, his balls slap-slapping against her 
parted fanny buns.

She was knocked for a turn as she came and sensed she 
was flushing his cock with her sex sap. Lights flashed 
and she knew she was screaming with sensual 
satisfaction. "I'm cuuuuummmmming!" she screamed, 
bouncing her ass up, grinding her splayed crotch 
against his laboring groin.

"You fuck good, baby!" Willie grated in her ear, 
pumping his meat to her. Faster and faster. Mavis felt 
it expanding, twitching, pulsating. She knew he was 
about to cum and wanted his jizz squirting her sex cove 
full of his thick cream. "Give it to me, 
Willllllilliiiee!" she howled, locking her ankles 
around his neck.


Chapter 5


The boxer has a hard-on!

That was the first thing Mavis noticed as she walked 
into the Quentin home. At least two inches of his dick 
protruded from its thick-skinned pouch.

Her mind was like a void. She barely remembered 
struggling into her clothes, recalling Willie saying, 
"One helluva thousand-dollar fuck!"

He had left and she had floundered around, found the 
bottle in a drawer of his desk, had taken a hefty swig 
and then went home. Miriam had been waiting for her. 
Numbly, she had insisted that Miriam wait with her, 
have a drink, while she showered and dressed.

Then they had gone to the Quentins'. They were going to 
teach Terry Lewis how to play bridge. Mavis suppressed 
a giggle.

She couldn't play bridge -- not today! But she sure 
knew something about fucking! Willie Quentin was a 
master at plugging a girl's pussy!

And that damned dog!

He had a hard-on! Big and red and slick! Mavis, as if 
in a dream sat down and nodded to Terry, the little 
girl... former cheerleader... cute... pixie face... 
orangish hair.

Could anyone tell she had just had a fantastic screw 
from Willie Quentin? God! He had a mammoth cock -- 
educated! The way he could pry it around and lever it 
inside a woman's pussy!

That damned dog! Sniffing!

"I'm a little tight," Mavis mumbled. "I don't think I 
can be of much help, teaching someone to play bridge." 
But not tight in my pussy! Willie had expanded that!

"Well, who cares?" Connie demurred, passing around a 
tray with four glasses of vodka and grapefruit juice. 
"Maybe another day."

That damned dog has a big sex-bone, Mavis quailed.

But the dog was sniffing in the direction of Miriam and 
Terry. Why had Miriam brought her dog along? Mavis 
worried. She had heard things ...

And he sniffed under Miriam's skirt and Miriam didn't 
bat his clipped ears. Then he wiggle-butted across the 
room and nuzzled Terry's bare knees. Was she innocent? 
Was she a swinger? Mavis wished she were sober!

Remorse -- over what had happened a short time before -
- was buried deep in her mind. Mavis sobered slightly, 
slowly, as she sipped the stiff vodka drink. She 
glanced over the brim of her glass at Terry Lewis. 
There was a wild, eager, frantic gleam in her eyes.

Her gaze seemed lewd to Mavis. She addressed them all, 
even though she called Connie's name. "Show me, please. 
I want to know! I want to do it -- have him do it to 
me! But I'll need help. You'll probably have to hold 
me! In my mind, it's repulsive! But I want it!"

Mavis' gaze swung with Terry's. Her eyes went to the 
boxer... to his bag of balls and pointed prick. Mavis 
suppressed a gasp of surprise and distaste as she 
watched Miriam lean over and clutch the dog's sex pouch 
-- jack him off gently until another inch or so of his 
prick crept out.

A sensation of exultation crept into her mind. The dog 
wasn't for her! She wouldn't be degraded and humiliated 
by an animal! He was for the petite Terry! Excitement 
exceeded her sense of contempt.

She watched Miriam motion with her hand, send the dog 
across the room, stick his dark muzzle -- boldly -- up 
under Terry's short skirt. Her knees quivered apart. 
Just a couple of inches and the dog's blunt snout 
wasn't anywhere near her sex-seat.

But the young woman's eyes were glazed. "You'll have to 
help me -- make me!" Terry trilled.

Mavis cringed inwardly. A dog fucking a human female! 
And the girl was asking -- inviting -- it! Her snatch 
had been sated by Willie's mammoth prick -- and she 
didn't want it! Somehow, the idea of watching a young 
woman -- beautiful as Terry was -- get fucked by a dog 
was perverse... but enchanting!

God! the dog had a magnificent cock! Mavis couldn't 
prevent the muscles in her cunt from crawling... "Ugh!" 
she murmured to herself.

Then, her mind struggled with the question. HOW?

And Connie and Miriam were giggling conspiratorially.

Mavis stared. Terry's sleek thighs were drifting 
farther and farther apart. And the boxer knew what was 
up there! He was sniffing loudly and pushing his muzzle 
farther under the tender girl's dress. He knew! She had 
tender pussy up there! And he was going to get into it! 
Lap it! Lick it! Fuck it -- with his red, slick pole!

"You'll have to make me!" Terry yipped in protest, 
clamping her knees together and shutting off the dog's 
progress.

Mavis glanced from Miriam to Connie, watched them 
finish their drinks slowly, set their glasses down and 
lean forward. "Let's give her to him!" Miriam said 
brightly. "Come and help us, Mavis!"

Mavis remained in her chair, watched as Connie and 
Miriam stood and converged on Terry. She scowled as she 
watched Miriam stoop and masturbate the dog for a 
moment.

Then they tugged Terry from her chair. Connie held 
Terry's arms as Miriam scooped hands up under her dress 
and hauled down Terry's silkies. There was a brief 
struggle... the dog sloshed his huge red tongue over 
Terry's taut crotch. The dog knew he was going to sink 
his bone in the girl's treasured gash. And Mavis 
suspected he had a jobber big enough to make her hole 
smoke and make her yell. Mavis had seen animals fuck -- 
and they could really poke it in and out of a pussy. 
REALLY FAST!

Then, as if in a dream, Mavis watched the small girl 
stripped stark naked and the dog was really laboring 
his gulping tongue over her flat tummy and trying to 
swab it between her milky thighs. He nibbled daintily 
at her light-colored pubic mat and Terry whimpered.

"Want it from the belly or the back, Terry?" Miriam 
gurgled as she and Connie held her arms, twisted behind 
her back. Mavis' eyes opened wide as she watched Miriam 
maul one of the perfect breast cones and tweak the 
nipple cruelly.

"Oh, God! You'll have to make me! I wwwwwaaaannnnttttt 
to try it! But his thing is so big and ugly!"

"This beats bridge!" Connie yelled in triumph as she 
and Miriam tugged Terry into the middle of the floor. 
Connie toed an ottoman away from an easy chair. She and 
Miriam stepped on Terry's feet and forced her 
backwards, over the low object.

The dog knew what to do.

He came up on her, between the out-flung thighs.

"Guide him into her!" Miriam shrieked at Mavis. "Hold 
his cock so he can fuck it into her!"

Mavis hesitated.

"Do it, damnit! Or I'll tell a few things!"

The dog's thing was protruding and protruding. Thicker 
and thicker, redder and redder. And his rump was fuck-
fucking fruitlessly. And Mavis crept across the floor 
...

"Oh, God, no! I changed my mind!" Terry screamed.

But there was no salvation for Terry Lewis. Connie and 
Miriam wouldn't let her up. And, timidly, Mavis gently 
grasped the boxer's balls with her right hand and his 
dark red shaft with her left. She pressured forward 
with her hand on his balls until the tip of his cock 
dug into the girl's dainty vulva, the sharp point 
prying the lips apart.

He knew where to go... and buried his bone deep in her 
wretching body.

His toes danced on the thick carpet and he stabbed her 
deep. Instinctively, Mavis massaged... jacked him off 
through the thick skin of his cock jacket and felt the 
knob swelling. He has a magnificent cob, she marveled, 
bending her head to watch him knife it into the girl.

Terry's feet flew into the air and her ankles locked 
over the hunching animal's back.

"Aaaaaaaaaanh!" Terry whimpered as the dog flung his 
cock into her. Mavis saw the huge knob coming out of 
the pouch. The dog was bouncing it against the splayed 
lips of the vulva.

Then he crammed it all into the tight hole, past the 
yielding pelvic bones and he had his bone buried in 
Terry Lewis' dainty, fragile body. He humped away in 
short, gouging strokes, deep in her insides.

Miriam and Connie were panting with perverted pleasure 
as they held the girl bent over the ottoman. And Mavis 
stroked the black-skinned balls...

And Terry suddenly wheedled, "Fuuuuuck me! I'm being 
fucked by a dog! It's so good... being fucked by a 
dooooog! And his big knob is stuck in me! I can hold 
his cock in me because his knob is locked in my 
twatittty!"

And the dog had it in her snatch good. Mavis leaned 
back as Miriam and Connie released Terry's arms and 
scooted away to watch. It was plain the dog wasn't 
going to give up soon. He wasn't going to turn around 
ass-to-ass. He was going to stay hung in the young 
woman until he was ready to soften and unlatch.

Terry clenched a handful of her close-cropped hair and 
with her other hand, she played with one of the boxer's 
ears, tweaked his nose and let him lick her fingers. 
She guided his great tongue to her tits and started 
moaning and bumping her fanny as he licked in great 
slurps across the perfect mounds of beauty.

Then he began pumping it in and out of her again in 
short, spearing strokes and Terry came again and again. 
The ball near the back of his cock must have been the 
size of an orange. It was lodged -- stuck -- in her 
snatch. It would never come out -- his cock -- 
accidentally. Terry held his dick in her pussy with the 
inner tension of coital muscles and her thighs clenched 
around his body.

Mavis took the drink Connie offered her, fascinated, 
hypnotized by the uncanny sight of a dog fucking a 
woman. And Terry was loving every plunge of his prick 
and the big ball wedged inside her vagina. Mavis 
wondered if the sex stick was stuck all the way into 
Terry's womb.

"Is he shoving it into your uterus?" she suddenly 
asked, impulsively.

"Is -- he -- ever!" Terry panted. "I'm blowing my fuck-
gasket again!" She writhed and grunted and up-butt-
fucked to get all of the dog's cock. "I'd like to have 
his big knob in my ever-lovin'-fuckin'-womb!"

The boxer knew his business. He hunched forward 
brutally, burying his prick deep in Terry and he 
gobbled a beautiful tit, gently, into his lascivious 
mouth and Terry exploded, reached to grab the dog's 
nuts in both hands and pull his ass toward hers.

"He's shooting a gallon of hot jizz into my swat!" 
Terry squalled with erotic delight.

Mavis could see Terry's tight butt hole flutter and 
spasm and seem to work in and out. Mavis felt faint her 
vision seemed to spin and her tummy felt all swimmy. 
She realized that watching the session of sexual 
intercourse between Terry Lewis and the boxer had 
greatly stimulated her pussy and it was all sticky and 
hot.

Passion was raging like an inferno through her vagina 
and roaring into her womb. She fumbled her empty glass 
away and twisted her body around to lie on her stomach. 
She was conscious of a humming in her ears, of her 
breath whistling through her flared nostrils. Vaguely, 
she was aware of cool, adept hands shuffling under the 
short hem of her dress, of her panties being peeled off 
over her tensed rump and down her long, tapering 
thighs.

She had no resistance to the pairs of hands lifting her 
butt into the air, pushing her knees up and apart from 
her flanks. Fingers were playing around with her hot 
vulva, parting the thick petals. She shuddered as 
something hot mopped into her wet, sticky groove.

"Oh, my God!" Mavis whined. Miriam and Connie had 
gotten the dog's dick out of Terry, had turned him away 
from the small woman's body and were pointing him onto 
her. She felt her pussy crawling and squirming as the 
thick, hot tongue plowed through her vulva and rasped 
tantalizingly over her anal opening, up and down the 
crack of her ass. "Oooooh!"

And he was mounting her! She could feel his hairy 
underside against her buttocks, the loaves fanned apart 
with involuntary anticipation. God! her mind quavered. 
Just a few hours before, she had been screwed by Willie 
Quentin! Now, she was about to be fucked by a big 
animal!

His forelegs were locked around her narrow waist and 
she felt his lolling tongue between her shoulder 
blades. Mavis' head was twisted to her right. She 
opened her eyes and could see the dog's right hind leg 
dancing between her legs as he positioned himself. The 
sharp point of his prick skidded up and down her fanny 
crease, almost penetrated her asshole. But it glazed on 
past -- downward -- and speared her throbbing pussy. 
His knob was still there, ready! He hunched forward and 
Mavis stiffened against his weight and pressure.

"Aaaaaaaaggggggghhhhh!" she grunted, the sound turning 
into a soft, wailing scream as he drove his cock home, 
knifing it all the way into her pussy, lodging the big, 
hot ball behind her pelvic bones. And she knew how 
Terry had felt! It was ecstatic! It was exotic! It was 
heavenly and he punched her pussy vigorously and she 
swirled into a ravaging orgasm that seemed to sear her 
mind.

"Oooooohhhhhh!" she shuddered, back-fucking her ass to 
meet his rapid humps and pumps and hunches. She knew, 
later, she would feel revulsion and shame. But right 
now she was getting the fucking of her life from the 
dog's long, thick, burning prick.

Pump-pump! Prick slammed into her uterus.

Sloosh-sloosh! Big cock-knob batted around just inside 
her sex tunnel.

"Fuck-fuck! Fuck-fuck! Fuck-fuck!" she heard the words 
clearly and realized they were coming from her sex-
tormented mouth. "Fuuuuuccccckkk meeeeee!" she yelled.

Then, minutes later, she was flooded with liquid fire 
as the dog plunged his cock deep into her and flooded 
her funnel full of his steaming animal semen.

Instinctively, Mavis drew her knees together, thighs 
clenching, capturing the animal's rigid shaft and large 
knob in her wretching and spasming tube.

Vaguely, dimly, she was aware of his plaintive whining 
as he tried to back out of her, but she held him tight. 
His forepaws were on the small of her back, just above 
the taut, fleshy buns. And he was swiveling around. His 
entire sex auger was twisting inside her. One of his 
hind feet was lifting... and he was stepping over their 
welded connection. And they were asshole to asshole. 
His massive cock was bent back between his hind legs, 
firmly secured in her voracious cunt. And the hard, 
blunt clipped tail was gouging at her anus as he 
struggled to crawl away, drag his prick out of her 
pussy.

She was aware of Miriam urging her to raise up on her 
elbows. It was a struggle. Mavis was sapped from her 
super-sensual experience. But she accomplished it. 
Miriam's hands parted the bodice of her dress and her 
fingers slid inside the filmy bra to fondle the hard-
tipped tits.

And back there... Connie was playing with the dog's 
balls, keeping his cock hard inside her burning cunt. 
And the dog shot again. His gushing, fiery honey 
cascaded all through her snatch and catapulted Mavis 
into another shattering climax.

"Oooooohhhm, dear!" she whimpered. "Myyy God!" she 
quavered. "I'm cumming again!" She drew a deep breath. 
She sobered slightly. "I'm being fucked by a dog!"

More than ever, she felt she was a sex captive, at the 
mercy and caprice of Connie and Miriam. And hadn't 
Willie gotten to her? She was his captive, too! He had 
promised she would have to do it with him only one 
time, but Mavis sensed, intuitively, he could get to 
her again, if he pushed the demand. And Hank Carr had a 
lever, if he were inclined to fuck her!

"My God!" she wept softly, involuntarily pushing her 
firm breasts into Miriam's massaging palms. Probably, 
there would be no swap to it... she was a sex toy for 
all of them!

She opened her eyes and met the lewd stare of Terry 
Lewis. The elfin girl was no innocent. She liked her 
sex. What about her husband, Mickey? His wife had just 
had her first copulation with an animal. Would she, 
Mavis, be forced to submit to Mickey's fucking?

Oh, my God! What if they threatened to tell Phil 
anything and everything?

* * *

Was it an hour later? Two hours? She had no 
recollection of relaxing her pussy and releasing the 
dog's slick red prick from her pussy. Only vaguely, she 
remembered, stumbling to her feet, grabbing her panties 
and wiping the dog's juices from her inner thighs. She 
crammed them into her crotch to soak up the remaining 
flow of his cum and slipped from the house. Miriam and 
Connie seemed oblivious to her departure. Miriam was 
introducing the tiny Terry to her dildo; Connie was 
squatting on Terry's face, forcing her to eat her pussy 
...


Chapter 6


In the safety and seclusion of her own home, Mavis 
stripped and bathed, consumed by thoughts of guilt at 
having let Willie lay her -- and getting drunk and 
letting the Carrs' boxer diddle her cunny with his 
slick pecker. Almost ill, she washed out her twat again 
and again.

Still stark naked, she prowled through the house and 
tried to deaden her memory with liquor. She knew that 
if she didn't get thoroughly drunk, she would cry all 
night. And she still had Sunday to live through before 
Phil got home Monday.

"I'm a snockered slut," she moaned with self-
recrimination. "But Willie would have let me go to jail 
over somebody else's theft, if I hadn't let him fuck 
me! And I was too drunk to know what was happening to 
me when the dog screwed me!" she rationalized.

But Willie had given her a lot of cocking -- and she 
had been needing it for quite a while. And Connie's 
husband really knew how to fuck, ball a girl! She 
shuddered. And the boxer was one of the best fucks she 
had ever had!

"Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh, nooo," she wept softly, 
surprised that no tears came. "Did I -- NO, I didn't 
enjoy being fucked by Willie and that beast!" But 
hadn't she?

Her vagina was all soppy and crawly as her mind toyed, 
suddenly, with the erotic recollection. Was she really 
a rotten, fuckin' slut? But she was in their grips! If 
they said "fuck," she would fuck; if they said "suck," 
she would suck! She would do their perverted bidding.

She was a prisoner of their corrupt whims! There 
probably, would be no mate-swapping! She was just a 
tool for their sexual greed!

* * *

Mavis awoke about mid-morning Sunday. There was a 
burning itch in her vagina that communicated itself to 
her rectal channel. She writhed under the light bed 
clothing and opened her eyes slowly. A good night's 
sleep had been good for her; her spirits were brighter 
and the events of the day before -- being screwed by 
Willie and the dog -- weren't nearly as repulsive as 
they had been the night before.

She slipped from bed and strode naked to the bedroom 
window. She gripped the cord and whipped the drapes 
aside, then frowned. It was raining. Her eyes swept 
across backyards -- and saw Connie and Miriam cavorting 
in the downpour, wearing bikinis. For July, it had to 
be a warm and unexpected rain. Through the open window, 
she could smell the warm freshness.

Mavis smiled broadly. Connie and Miriam seemed to be 
having a crazy time, just running and prancing about in 
the rain. "Why don't you take off those silly bikinis?" 
she said aloud. "They don't hide much, anyhow!"

She watched for several minutes, then slipped into a 
short dressing gown, and went downstairs. She made 
toast and ate it with a glass of orange juice and a cup 
of strong, black coffee. As she munched the toast, she 
reviewed what she had to do -- get a thousand dollars 
from the bank and think of some excuse for Phil. Maybe 
she could tell her husband that her brother called and 
begged for a loan that he would pay back as soon as he 
could. Well, he never would. But her story wouldn't be 
checked, Phil didn't like her lazy brother.

Her second cup of coffee Mavis laced with a double-shot 
of whiskey. She felt a little smug; that story would 
suffice. Oh, Phil might raise hell for a few minutes, 
but his anger would subside. Better that than have a 
scandal over stealing money from the store. And she 
might go to jail and lose Phil!

Yet the unpleasant thoughts didn't submerge her into 
melancholy. However, one thing did perplex her -- it 
seemed that Miriam and Connie got an abnormal pleasure 
from the sex antics of others. Yet, Connie seemed cut 
from a little different cloth than Miriam. Hadn't she 
lost her composure and eaten Mavis' pussy with 
absolute, greedy abandon? And hadn't Mavis seen her 
push her snatch onto Terry's mouth?

Idly, suddenly feverish Mavis wondered what it would be 
like to tongue out another woman's swat. How would it 
be to put her lips on Miriam's clean-shaven vulva and 
kiss it deeply? Then dip the tip of her tongue into the 
hot, wet, slick petals and suck on the little clit-
thorn!

"I've got to stop thinking like this," she muttered, 
shaking her head, clenching her thighs over her 
cushiony pillow and grinding the pussy mesh. She poured 
bourbon into her cup and filled it with coffee.

Mavis was baffled by her carnal thoughts. Even when she 
-- those few months -- had engaged nightly in her 
promiscuous pursuit of money, she had retained a 
distinct dignity and pride. It had been a necessity, 
selling her body to men, but now her mind engaged in 
all sorts of sex fancies! Her vagina seemed to be a 
ravenous glutton for hard penis with an appetite that 
would never be sated.

"Lord, oh, Lord!" she moaned, grinding her smooth 
thighs together to apply delicious pressure on her 
thick prissy lips and the prickling clitoris that had 
turned hot and hard.

Her musing was shattered rudely by the chimes. Someone 
was at the back door. Flustered, she jumped to her feet 
and adjusted the robe and its sash to cover any trace 
of her nakedness. Then she hurried to answer the 
beckon.

Her eyes widened as she stared out at Connie Quentin 
and Miriam Carr. They were dripping wet, still wearing 
their bikinis. "You two look like a couple of drowned 
cats!" Mavis laughed, holding the door wide.

"Wet pussies, you mean," Miriam grinned, slipping 
inside and back-swatting Mavis' rear as she passed.

"Sopping wet, hot pussies," Connie amended, quickly 
kissing Mavis with rain-wet lips and pinching a tittie 
through her robe. "Got a couple of towels for these two 
crazy cants?" Miriam asked, patting at the water that 
was running down her wet body.

Mavis skipped into the utility room and brought back 
two beach towels she had stored there. She stopped 
abruptly. Miriam and Connie had stripped off their 
skimpy bathing suits and stood there naked, without 
modesty or concern.

"Sometimes I wish I had the nerve to shave off my pussy 
bush," Connie said, taking a towel from Mavis. "I'll 
dry you, you hairless bitch and you can do the same for 
me."

Watching the two towel each other's bodies, paying 
adoring attention to breasts and crotches and buttocks 
was more than Mavis could stand. "I'll fix you two a 
couple of coffee royals," she said, slipping away 
toward the kitchen.

Mavis was openly fascinated by the two nude women 
sitting with her at the breakfast nook. The brisk 
rubbing with rough towels had popped their nipples out, 
dark and hard and pointed. "Did Willie give you a 
little last night?" Miriam teased.

"Heck, no!" Connie frowned. "He said he was all zapped 
out! I wonder who? I have a suspicion some other 
woman's monkey has been gobbling my hubby's meat-
banana!"

Mavis sensed herself blushing, hoped that Connie and 
Miriam didn't notice. Willie had fucked her! Yet, she 
felt certain he hadn't told his wife about it, Connie 
was leering at Miriam. "I think I know whose animal got 
his meat!"

Miriam giggled appreciatively and looked away as she 
sipped her coffee and whiskey. And Mavis was relieved; 
Connie was, undoubtedly, referring to the night before 
when the Quentins and Carrs had swapped!

"Besides, last night was Saturday -- the night Willie 
has to tabulate receipts of all the stores in the Salt 
Lake City area and get it into the armored van. I'm 
sure he gets uptight with all that money in his office 
and virtually no security."

Mavis watched Miriam nod, "Hank says the store 
officials are stupid; it would be easy to rob them -- 
Willie."

"And," Connie agreed, "Willie handled a little more 
than $275,000 last night!"

"With that kind of responsibility, no wonder he had a 
limp, limber dingus!" Miriam chuckled, reaching to 
tweak Connie's right nipple.

"Keep your sexy hands to yourself! Don't start 
something you can't finish!" Connie chirped, recoiling 
with mock indignity.

They were silent as Mavis freshened the drinks. Then 
Connie pouted, "Willie says the guys are going to play 
poker Monday night; he hopes Phil gets home and will 
join in."

Mavis hoped her dissatisfaction didn't show. She wanted 
Phil to herself his first night home.

"Who all is going to play?" Miriam broke up Mavis' 
thoughts.

"He said if they can count on Phil, there will be 
Willie and Hank and Mickey and that old fart, Ben 
Clover," Connie counted off on her fingers. "Willie 
says five players makes a good game."

"And what do we women do while the men are playing 
cards?" Mavis continued to pout, feeling a cold gnawing 
deep in her tummy.

"Why, you've been to their card parties, honey!" Miriam 
chided. "We keep their glasses filled, sandwiches in 
their greedy hands and slap their hands when they sneak 
a feel and play grab-ass!"

"I think," Connie said slyly, "that our dear Mavis is 
looking forward to a jounce in the hay and having her 
pussy poked on Phil's first night home from Cheyenne."

"Awwww, come on, honey!" Miriam hiccupped. "Don't tell 
us you haven't had enough cums in the past couple of 
days to take the edge off your pecker yearnings! There 
were all the things Connie and I did for you -- and you 
did for yourself -- and you even -- took so much out of 
old Errol Flynn the boxer that he wasn't even 
interested in my slot last night when Hank had to work 
a double shift on Robbery Detail!"

Mavis reddened, then grinned in good humor. "If Phil 
wants to play poker with the guys, it's okay!"

The silence grew heavy for a few minutes and Mavis 
sensed apprehension building as she peered at Connie's 
sly smile and sparkling eyes.

"If you should need a little sexing, Mavis-honey, I bet 
I know where I can get you some," Connie smirked.

Not your damned husband! No one! Mavis rebelled 
mentally.

"I bet I can get Dell Emerson to crawl your gorgeous 
frame and give you a lusty fuck!" Connie pursued.

"Good, God, NO!" Mavis flushed.

"Come on!" Miriam interjected. "You really got your 
jollies from Errol Flynn! He fucked you good and you 
were still begging for more long, hot cock in your 
swat!"

"Good Lord!" Mavis quailed, absently filling their cups 
with bourbon and coffee. "I was half-drunk! I didn't 
know your dog was going tuxedo it to me!"

"But you didn't resist," Connie chided. "You even 
bucked and fucked right along with his hunching the 
cock to you! Well, I bet I can get Dell Emerson to plug 
your pussy with his young stud prick!"

"Nooooo!"

She almost swooned when Miriam said tersely, "And I'll 
bet I know something that will convince Mavis to take 
him oh!"

"Whaaaaant?" Connie giggled.

"My business -- if Mavis doesn't consent to cooperate," 
Miriam winked, gloating. "Right, Mavis-honey?" When 
Mavis kept silent, Miriam said eagerly, "Get Dell here! 
You can, can't you? Right now!"

"Oh, God! Please, no!" Mavis pleaded.

"Yes!" Connie bubbled, springing to her feet and 
running naked into Mavis' living room to the telephone. 
When she returned, Miriam said thoughtfully, "After 
Dell bangs Mavis, I might enjoy some of his twang, 
myself! He's a young, handsome stud!"

"Maybe we'll all get a little sex-servicing!" Connie 
booted, gulping her coffee royal. "He'll be here in 
about twenty minutes. Mavis? You got a couple of spare 
robes or something? We don't want to startle all of the 
starch out of his pecker by letting him walk in on us 
naked!"

Mavis glared at Miriam, knowing the threat she implied 
concerned the short time she had hustled her fanny as a 
prostitute. "Upstairs, to the right, in the big 
closet."

She felt helpless. She was going to be fucked by yet 
another man. And Connie and Mavis were going to watch 
him pump the prick to her! Her sense of desolation was 
too great to even consider pending humiliation.

Oh, damn! Her sex orifice was a burning tube! Even her 
rectal region was searing, tormenting fire. No! No! No! 
Mavis wallowed in misery. She was going to be fucked 
again and her body was craving a man -- his hard meat!

She was unaware that she was drinking straight bourbon. 
All her mind could deal with -- her conscience -- was 
the reality that soon she would be naked with a man on 
her, in her, fucking her!

She had never felt more a captive of someone else's 
will and demands in her life. She was naggingly aware 
of her knees creeping apart, of cool air on her 
feverish pussy, of a spasming in her vagina. Her body 
wanted a man's long, thick, hard cock!

"Ooooooooothhhhh!" she sobbed quietly, baffled that no 
tears flowed from her eyes.

Dully, numbly, Mavis shuffled to her feet to answer the 
chimes sounded at the back door. She hesitated a 
moment, checked her robe, careful it was protecting her 
modesty. Dumbly, she stared at the tall Dell Emerson. 
His hair was mussed slightly and she thought absently 
he had probably done it when he removed his stock 
apron.

"You need me?" Dell asked, eyes intense. "Mrs. Quentin 
called and Willie sent me over. What's the matter? What 
do you want?"

How, Mavis fretted, can I tell you that you are here to 
fuck me? We are going to fornicate while Connie and 
Miriam watch because they are going to force us to! Why 
don't you take your viriled dick and run away? "Come 
in," Mavis said flatly. "I'll get you a cup of coffee 
royal -- you may as well get a little drunk." She 
didn't wait for his response, but turned and led the 
way into the dining room where she got a cup and mixed 
a coffee royal -- half and half. Buster, she thought, 
gulping her own cold booze, you wanted to have me a day 
or two ago. Now you will! You're going to fuck me 
because I don't want Miriam telling on me -- and Connie 
knows something that will keep you from saying no! 
Well, buddy-boy Dell, after you diddle my hole, you 
better not go around telling other people! Just fuck 
me, drop your rocks, enjoy your screw and keep your 
damned mouth shut!

"I'd better not drink," Dell hedged. "After I do 
whatever it is you need, I have to get back to the 
store."

"Yes, Dell, drink up!" Connie crooned as she and Miriam 
returned from upstairs.

Mavis noticed that the two beautiful women were 
deliberately careless about flashing their legs for 
Dell's eyes and their ripe mounds were daringly 
obvious.

"Mavis, you'll do it," Miriam said tersely, eyes 
glinting a little cruelly. "Dell's here -- and you'll 
let him! "

She didn't say anything, felt helpless and cornered.

"What?" Dell asked.

Mavis watched Connie push Dell into a chair and lean 
toward him. Mavis knew that Dell couldn't help but see 
down the front of the robe that Connie wore. His eyes 
seemed to pop a little bit and Mavis knew he was able 
to ogle her luscious bosom. For a second, she thought 
he was going to snake a hand inside and grab a plump, 
firm tittie.

"Whhhhaaaaatttt? Oh, no!" Dell protested, voice 
swimming with amazement, disbelief.

"Why not?" Connie purred, tousling his short-cropped 
hair. "You're a man -- and I'll bet you aren't getting 
any from Becky!"

Mavis suspected Connie had whispered the proposition to 
him.

"And if you don't agree, how would you like it if I 
told my husband to fire your ass? Jobs are scarce and I 
know you're barely struggling by, trying to save money 
during the summer for law school in the fall. And how 
do you think the law firm where Becky works would react 
toward you if my husband should call -- very indignant 
-- and tell the lawyers that you had made sexy passes 
at me? And I'll bet you would lose Becky, too! The best 
thing all around for you to do is give Mavis a good 
fucking and enjoy it!"

Please! Please! Please! No! Mavis' mind cried in 
resistance to the humiliation that was about to be 
heaped on her. She glanced up, looked away. Dell's 
pain-filled eyes were trying to read whether this was 
what she wanted. She didn't want him to think she was a 
wanton slut who had other women find her a stud.

"Mavis," Miriam nudged her softly, threatening. "I'll 
just tell Phil -- at first... if you don't consent, 
then others!"

You bitchy beast! Mavis recoiled, surprised that her 
hate for Miriam and her blackmail wasn't intense -- as 
it should have been. "Where?" she said dully, aware of 
Connie's hands slyly unbuttoning Dell Emerson's shirt. 
He seemed so shocked he didn't notice. As for herself, 
she felt an overall chill flowing over and through her 
body. Her thighs were clamped together and her vulva 
seemed dry and icy.

A woman could take in a man's hard-on whether she 
wanted it or not! But how could they force a man to 
screw if he didn't want to, In the first place he had 
to have a hard jock or it wouldn't penetrate. Could 
Miriam and Connie get Dell hard?

"Upstairs, in your bedroom!" Miriam gloated 
triumphantly.

"Not in Phil's and my bed!" Mavis rebelled harshly, not 
looking at any of them.

"In the living room, on the couch!" Connie hooted 
softly. "It's like ours; it folds down and makes into a 
double bed!"

"Come on!" Miriam commanded as she and Connie rose and 
started toward the living room.

Mavis knew she was more than a little drunk. "No one is 
going to fuck me in my bed except my husband!" she 
whined. But no one heard her. She was surprised that 
Dell Emerson had followed Miriam and Connie so 
immediately. After a minute, resigned, she rose shakily 
and shuffled reluctantly toward the living room. She 
paused and stared at the couch that had been let down. 
To her it seemed to represent a sacrificial altar on 
which she would be subjected to adulterous indignity 
for the obtuse sexual pleasure of Connie and Miriam. 
How could she have ever considered them her two closest 
neighborhood friends? Because they were the only ones 
she knew in the area. And she wondered how Terry Lewis 
felt today, after -- they had pinioned her and 
introduced her to bestial intercourse. Yet, if she 
remembered correctly, from what Terry had said, Terry 
wanted the experience of being screwed by an animal!

She was unaware that gentle tears had started, blurring 
her vision. Miriam and Connie seemed like wicked 
strangers to her. She could see that Connie had 
stripped Dell to the waist and his muscles were 
quivering as he stood stolid, deeply, emotionally 
agitated.

"What do you want me to do?" Mavis' voice quivered, 
unable to take her eyes from the flattened couch. If 
she were going to be fucked, she wanted to get at it, 
get it over with!

As if hypnotized, Mavis watched Connie work adroitly 
with Dell's clothes, drop his pants and shorts down 
around his ankles. She was surprised; Dell didn't have 
a ready hard-on -- but he wasn't shriveled with shame 
and dismay, either! There was a certain puffiness in 
his penis and his husky testes were lifted midway in 
their sac. Somehow -- from experience -- Mavis knew 
that he was well-hung, would have a master cock if 
Miriam and Connie succeeded in getting it fully erect! 
Mavis shivered involuntarily as little shock waves of 
erotic expectation sparked through her. It was purely a 
physical reaction -- her mind was filled with 
revulsion!

Mavis couldn't quell the ripples of excitement as she 
watched Connie's hands on Dell's lithe body, rubbing 
his muscled belly, his legs, inner thighs -- carefully 
avoiding touching his balls and penis. And Miriam's 
hands were massaging Dell's lean buttocks pinching and 
squeezing and kneading. Mavis' eyes focused on Dell's 
privates as his nuts rolled up and down, his pecker 
twitched. Yes! They were getting him ready -- whether 
he wanted to or not! They would be able to get him in 
shape to fuck!

Mavis inched forward, fascinated. She had seen felt, 
guided a lot of cocks into her cunt. But Dell's penis 
was a marvel. He had been circumcised; there was 
absolutely no foreskin at all. His penis, slowly 
gorging with blood, was like a peeled wiener. The blood 
veins now, were filling and ridging along the sides and 
top of his thickening dong. He was going to have a huge 
prick, long and thick. Even his balls seemed to be 
enlarging as Connie continued to tease and caress his 
belly and inner thighs, the tips of her thumbs just 
barely goading his scrotum.

Dell's body continued to tremble and his stem was 
rising, extending, extending. It was going to be a 
long, tight-skinned pole with a blunt point. The slit 
in the head was gaping and Mavis could see the slick 
pinkness from which thick cream soon would be pouring 
into her.

Dell's cock was reaching full extension. It was so long 
and heavy it sagged away from his crotch, lifting his 
bag of balls. The veins along the side were like blue 
cords under the dark brown skin. Mavis was vaguely 
aware of Miriam leaving him and slipping up beside her. 
She made no effort to resist as Miriam's hands undid 
the sash of her gown, parted it and lifted it from her 
shoulders, slid it down over her arms and tossed it 
away. Mavis stood perfectly still under Dell's gaze. 
His eyes were nearly closed, but she knew he was 
studying her uplifted breasts, tiny, pointed nipples. 
His gaze drifted down to her narrow waist, to the flat 
tummy to the profuse growth like a meadow on her pussy 
mound.

Mavis quivered as Miriam's cool hand moved down between 
her shoulder blades, over the small of her back to play 
with the solid butt buns. The hand with tickling 
fingers worked up and down over her ass. Mavis knew her 
fanny had no sag and she sighed as Miriam continued to 
rub her butt. Muscles fluttered in her tummy and her 
rectum as Miriam worked her fingers into the clenched 
crack and nudged her burning puckered anus.

"Are you ready to fuck, Mavis?" Miriam breathed hotly 
in Mavis' left ear. Mavis didn't respond as she 
continued to stare at Dell's prodigious prod. Her cunny 
and vulva still felt sandpaper dry. She had doubts she 
could take Dell's prick easily -- it was so huge! She 
just knew, being dry in her channel, Dell was going to 
hurt her.

The moment of reckoning, time of coital truth was 
nearly at hand, Mavis knew. Clear sticky syrup was 
oozing from the slot in the end of Dell's prick. He was 
ready to fuck! His nostrils were flaring, then 
narrowing and she knew he could smell the warm aroma of 
her pussy, dry or not!

"Ready for a good clicking, honey?" Miriam whispered 
again, flicking her tongue into Mavis' ear. "He has a 
magnificent peter, doesn't he, honey? Dell will give 
you all the cock you can handle!" Mavis felt the tip of 
Miriam's finger inserted slightly in her hot asshole. 
She knew that Dell's prick, once he got it all the way 
into her and it was well-lubricated -- would make her 
snatch steam.

"Ready to get on the couch, honey and let Dell fuck 
you?" Miriam pursued. And her finger wormed deeper into 
her rectum -- and Mavis felt a release of juices in her 
pussy. The inner petals of her vulva were itching and 
burning deliciously. She could hardly stand the erotic 
flushes that were being ignited all through her pelvic 
region.

"Let's get on the couch, honey, and let Dell give you a 
good pussy-plundering!" Miriam urged her forward.

It was time. Mavis eased onto the couch on her knees 
and crawled toward the center of the couch with 
Miriam's finger still sunk deep in her rectal cavity. 
She hesitated, whined softly as Miriam worked her 
finger around the burning cavern, then extracted it. 
Without further urging, Mavis swiveled her body about 
and turned onto her back. Miriam touched the back of 
her left knee. Obediently, Mavis drew her feet toward 
her fanny, pulled her knees up and spread her thighs 
wide, presenting her hairy target for Dell's meat 
spear.

Mavis waited for him, eyes half-closed, lids heavy, 
staring at the ceiling. She sensed Miriam moving 
around, above her head. Then Miriam's hands touched her 
face, moved down to cup her hot tits. She heard Dell 
rustling forward, felt his timid weight on the side of 
the couch.

In just a minute, he would be... whatever else, Mavis 
thought, I won't reach down there, take hold of his 
cock and guide it into me!

Mavis stretched her arms straight out from her body and 
gripped the edge of the couch with her fingers. Oh, 
God! she wished Miriam would stop playing with her 
breasts, fanning her passion! She wouldn't help Dell 
slide his prick into her! She gripped harder. She 
sensed him easing between her drawn-up thighs. She 
wouldn't look at him. The muscles in her buttocks 
tensed as his hairy legs gently brushed her sleek inner 
thighs. Would he be gentle when he stabbed his cock 
into her vagina? Or would he be like a maddened bull 
and slam the hard, bludgeoning meat into her dainty 
body tissues?

Mavis sensed Dell getting closer and closed her eyes. 
She thought she could feel the intense heat of his 
genital organ on her own feverish pussy. In seconds, 
she thought, body tensing, he will be putting it in me 
and fucking me! I won't fuck him back! she vowed, 
biting her lower lip roughly. I just won't cooperate 
and give him the satisfaction of matching his fuck-
strokes with my own!

She could hear his rapid breathing somewhere a few 
inches above her face. She trembled as one of his hands 
rested on her bare shoulder, fingers gripped her tender 
flesh. Her knees quivered as he adjusted his torso 
between her legs and she felt a hand fumbling down 
there. Mavis felt a thumb parting the labia, spreading 
them so the head of his cock could plow, unobstructed 
into her furrow.

"Gently," Mavis murmured, almost pleading, as Dell 
wedged the blunt knob of his prick firmly into her sex 
groove. The heat of him was intense as his prick grew 
bolder, probing nearer and nearer the entry to her 
glory tunnel. She winced as he gripped her shoulder 
more firmly. His hand was still between their bodies 
and she knew he must be gripping his shaft near: the 
base, trying to aim it accurately at the fluttering 
entry to her body. "Please! Be gentle!" Mavis begged, 
wishing she could shrink her ass away from his cock 
that was like a red hot poker working around in her 
vulva.

"OOOOOOOOOHHHH," Mavis sighed. The thick point of 
Dell's prick was nudging at her hole. One thing, she 
thought, there won't be that rolled-back fold of 
foreskin to create added friction if he does bang his 
cock into me hard.

His hand was gone from between their bellies and was on 
her other shoulder. She breathed deeply and relaxed 
slightly as Dell hesitated. Then his knees nudged 
forward toward the splayed loaves of her ass and the 
coarse hair on his thighs grated against her own tender 
legs.

She sighed, almost with relief, as Dell slowly slid his 
massive penis into her vagina. He was going to be 
gentle. He wasn't going to bang it into her.

Mavis was ever so grateful that Dell was gentle. She 
even spread her knees wider to give him greater access, 
more freedom as he burrowed and drilled his slick-
skinned prick deeper and deeper into her sex tube. She 
was so relieved that he wasn't going to attack her like 
a butcher -- that her sphincter muscles contracted and 
expanded around his shaft.

But I won't fuck back, she told herself as he delved 
his cock deeper into her now-lubricated snatch. 
"Uuununhhhhhhghggghhh," she moaned as the head of his 
bone nudged her cervix and slid on past toward her 
womb. He does have a mammoth instrument, she gulped 
silently. He will really fuck me deep! Every muscle in 
her body twinged, every nerve tingled as he drew far 
out and slowly slid his cock back into her until his 
big balls slap-slapped against her uptilted fanny. 
Their combined juices were seeping out of her burning 
swat.

He gave her four or five long, gentle pumps, stroking 
his cock into her. Mavis could smell the musky aroma of 
cock socked into hot cunt strong in her nostrils. She 
wiggled under him, spread her knees wider as he began 
to settle into a steady coital rhythm, pumping the 
prick to her, socking the hard head against the bottom 
of her canny.

"Aaaaaaahhhhh," she sighed as his pace quickened. There 
were soft wet sounds down between their torsos as he 
rocked the cock to her. Mavis was aware that her feet 
had lifted from the couch and were waving around high 
above Dell's humping rump. She knew that this lifted 
her flattened crotch to him, let him plunge his prick 
another inch into her sex cavern. And he was fucking 
her faster and she was ...

"CUUUUMMMMIIIIIINNNNNG!" Mavis shrilled, her ass 
pumping wildly. He kept plunging it in and out of her 
as she orgasmed like a primitive savage. 
"Giiiiiivvvveeeeee it to me!" she panted, growled, 
screamed, begged. "Fuck it to me!"

She kept climaxing, cunt muscles spasming and wrenching 
with glorious pleasure. Mavis sensed that Connie had 
moved toward her bottom and had her feet, pushing them 
far back toward her head as Dell continued to plunder 
her cunt with his thudding cock.

She almost fainted with erotic delight as he slammed in 
deep and began shooting her snatch full of his thick, 
boiling jizz. And she was fucking back, her pussy 
glorying in the massive prick that was crammed deep 
into her body and was gushing love juice into her.

Mavis was pleasurably exhausted. Her mind seemed to 
swirl in euphoria; she felt dreamy and relaxed. 
"Oooooo, ohhhhh," she murmured, not wanting Dell to 
take his cock out of her cunt where he had let it soak 
in her sex cauldron for several minutes -- even after 
she had siphoned out all his jizz.

Mavis turned her head and opened her eyes slightly. 
Miriam and Connie had the naked Dell flat on his back 
in the living room floor and Connie was squatting down 
on him as Miriam held his sex post perpendicular to his 
heaving body so Connie could capture it with her thick-
lipped pussy.

Mavis closed her eyes. She would sleep and let Miriam 
and Connie have their way with the young virile Dell. 
They could take turns fucking him.

But she would sleep...


Chapter 7


Hank and Miriam Carr were in the Moran living room when 
Phil drove in the driveway and Mavis had no opportunity 
to talk to her husband, let alone take the time to 
choose her words and determine just how much she could 
tell him -- about the things that had happened to her.

"We got a poker game tonight at Willie's," Hank said, 
sipping the drink Mavis had mixed. "You'll make it, 
won't you? We won't play too late."

"I reckon," Phil grinned, patting Mavis on the bottom. 
He flattened his dark brown hair with the palm of his 
right hand. "When does the game start?"

"In about an hour," Hank said. "Gives you time to eat 
and come over."

But even after Miriam and Hank had gone, with Phil 
nibbling on cold beef sandwiches, washing it down with 
bourbon and soda, Mavis couldn't think of a way to open 
the conversation that was weighing on her mind.

Absently, it seemed, Phil finally said, "What's your 
feeling about what you mentioned to me on the phone?"

"What? I don't know," Mavis muttered, nerves jangling. 
"I don't think so ..."

"Why?" Phil grinned. "Don't tell me you can't bear the 
thought of a little strange puntang? Just talking, 
though, I think Connie and Miriam might have a pretty 
hot tail between those fancy legs. And they're kinda 
obvious, pushing it at a guy sometimes. And Hank and 
Willie -- I know they're aware of it -- don't seem to 
be perturbed by the idea their wives might put out 
between strange sheets."

Arching an eyebrow, Mavis challenged, "If you think you 
want to dip your wick in their lamps -- go ahead!"

Phil laughed easily, "I was thinking of a different 
analogy -- darting my stinger into their blossoms!"

"Then dip your stinger in their blossoms," Mavis joined 
her husband's soft laughter. She loved his infectious 
grin and sparkling brown eyes. Truly, she didn't care 
if he fucked Connie and Miriam! Bitterness gnawed at 
her elation for a second. How could she resent her 
husband's having an affair with other women -- after 
what she had done? And she had enjoyed it -- once the 
penile penetration had been accomplished and hard, 
experienced cock was inserted deep into her hungry 
vagina.

Quietly, Mavis said, replenishing her husband's drink, 
"If they give you an opportunity to fuck them -- don't 
turn it down." She hoped bitterness and deceit weren't 
apparent in her voice.

Phil laughed and clutched a firm butt cheek in one hand 
as he took the drink from her hand that trembled 
slightly. "I doubt that they can give a guy the quality 
of nookey you can."

"Thanks for the dubious compliment," Mavis smiled 
gratefully.

"You're a good piece of ass," Phil nodded, reaching 
under the hem of her miniskirt and stroking her inner 
thighs, caressing the pulpy fruit of her woman -- hood 
and tracing the crack of her ass with his closed 
fingers.

"Want a sample now?" Mavis teased, grinding her pelvis 
coitally against his hand.

"Let's go play a few hands of poker -- and I'll fill 
your tight little sex maw later with lots and lots of 
eager cock!"

Mavis smiled good-naturedly, "You'd rather go play 
'poke her' with cards than stay home and poke me with 
prick! I don't understand how you can prefer chips 
around a table with men when you have a red-hot chippie 
at home just dying to flop into bed naked and fuck you 
to sleep?"

She was surprised she didn't cringe as she labeled 
herself a chippie for her husband. After all, that's 
what she was! First with Willie, then the boxer, then 
with Dell Emerson!

Who would be next, she fretted as she accompanied her 
husband out of the house and across the back yard 
toward the Quentin residence.

"Do you want to swap -- really -- Phil? she frowned, 
taking his arm with both hands and crushing her right 
breast against his hard biceps.

"It's a thought," Phil replied, slowly, thoughtfully. 
"I don't know. I've thought about it a lot since we 
talked on the phone. I don't think I'd have any trouble 
banging Connie and Miriam -- mental hang-ups, that is. 
But I have jealous palpitations when I consider you 
naked in someone else's arms and him pistoning his 
prick into your snug pussy."

Mavis cringed. If you only knew, she wailed mentally, 
that in the past couple of days Willie had had me, a 
dog flicked me: Dell laid me. Oh, I just couldn't bear 
to have you find that out!

Softly she said, "If you want to shag Connie and Miriam 
-- I won't think any the less of you, darling. I've 
heard that a man sometimes needs some strange poontang.

"But, if I did," Phil said thoughtfully, pausing in the 
Quentin backyard to light a cigarette, "Willie and Hank 
will want to bang your ass!"

Mavis was startled by the stern, almost vicious tone of 
her husband's voice. I'm glad you don't know, she 
thought, looking away, eyes peering at the abundance of 
stars in the clear sky. And you'll never arrow, no 
matter what I have to do! She knew this admission to 
herself had put her life in bondage as long as she and 
Phil remained in Salt Lake City where Connie and Miriam 
and Willie and Henry -- and who knew how many others -- 
could get to her! She was a captive just as sure as if 
she were locked in a jail cell!

Connie opened the door and stood peering at them, 
without a word, for several seconds. She had changed 
into a one-piece sunsuit and looked very leggy and 
appetizing. The tight bodice accented her full breasts.

"Come in, characters," Connie smiled slowly, and Mavis 
was aware that Connie's eyes were on Phil. As they 
passed by the den, Connie took Phil's arm, stopped 
them. "Phil and Mavis are here," Connie called. A table 
was in the center of the room. Poker chips had been cut 
into stacks in front of each chair.

Mavis saw Willie and Hank immediately, leaning against 
the fireplace. Then she saw Ben Glover, Mickey Lewis -- 
and Dell Emerson -- lounging in easy chairs positioned 
about the room. "Come and join the gals, Mavis; let 
Phil have a drink before they start their pasteboard 
carnage."

Mavis nodded to others sitting at the dining room 
table. There was Miriam and Terry and young Becky. If 
it worked out that way, everyone could be mated with 
the exception of Ben Glover. God! she thought, he has 
lecherous eyes!

Mavis nodded to the other girls as Connie brought a 
large pitcher from the refrigerator. "Screwdrivers," 
Connie smiled, filling glasses on a tray in the center 
of the table.

Mavis glanced about. Terry's eyes seemed to glitter and 
Mavis speculated that the little doll had had quite a 
bit to drink before she and Mickey arrived. And Becky, 
the trim strawberry blonde, seemed wound up tight. Her 
eyes seemed furtive and fearful. Mavis wondered if 
Connie and Miriam had something planned for her and 
whether Becky was aware of it.

Vaguely, Mavis could hear the deep murmur of the men's 
voices and the clatter of chips as they were tossed 
into the pot. There were six of them playing. Willie 
had always contended five made a good game. If they had 
known that there would be six, she and Phil could have 
stayed at home. She shrugged away her discontent and 
tried to concentrate on the girls' harmless 
conversation about clothes and the drudgery of 
housekeeping and meals and the lack of variety and 
excitement in married life.

Maybe Becky and Terry missed the subtle inference but 
it was clear to Mavis that Connie and Miriam were 
alluding to husband-swapping. She frowned. It seemed, 
lately, that Miriam and Connie were obsessed with the 
topic of hopping into bed with some other woman's 
husband.

She made up her mind that she wasn't going to drink 
much, was going to stay sober so she would be keenly 
aware of whatever happened -- to others as well as to 
herself. Little Becky was beginning to feel the effects 
of the vodka. And Terry was drinking faster and the 
alcohol was beginning to belt her hard; it was evident 
in her slightly slurred speech and brassy tone.

Mavis eased away from the table and strolled about the 
room, carrying her drink, but not touching it. No one 
paid attention to her and she drifted toward the den to 
lounge in the archway. Ben Glover's eyes picked her 
immediately and fastened on her legs below the 
miniskirt. Mavis stifled a shudder and wished she had 
worn slacks! His eyes seemed to strip her naked!

"Has your company beefed up its security -- especially 
on Saturday nights, Willie?" Glover asked tossing his 
hand into the discards.

Mavis watched Willie nod negatively. "The brass is 
satisfied that the armored van guards are sufficient. 
The van rolls up at ten-fifteen every Saturday night 
with three armed guards. I help one of them load the 
money and it's their responsibility."

Her eyes swung to Phil who blew her a silent kiss and 
winked as he said, "Ben and I both know that your 
insurance premium and bond rates would be sharply 
reduced if you had guards on hand through the evening 
as receipts arrive from the other stores."

"So?" Willie shrugged, "tell it to the brass."

The men chuckled, paused in their play to sip their 
drinks and light cigarettes.

"It would be a cinch," Henry Carr said, "to knock you 
over, Willie. Even amateurs could hold you up and 
probably get away clean. For one thing, the police 
department -- we have discussed it and fretted about it 
-- would have damned little to go on. Hell, there isn't 
even a record of serial numbers of bills. All that cash 
and checks are dumped in bags by other stores after a 
fast tabulation and brought to you."

"You're right," Willie nodded. "And it makes me a 
little nervous. I guess store officials think the 
practice is unknown and they rely on this against the 
probability of robbery."

"Bullshit!" Glover shuffled the cards, offered the deck 
for cut, buried a card and dealt. "That kind of secret 
can't be kept!"

"Tell it to the brass!" Willie said, opening with a 
blue chip.

The casual discussion of armed robbery had a chilling 
effect on Mavis and she gulped her drink nervously.

"Another round, Connie!" Willie called, interrupting 
the conversation. In an instant Miriam slipped past 
Mavis and into the room. "I'll accommodate you," she 
said. "Connie went upstairs to wee-wee."

Mavis watched Miriam, wearing snug shorts and a loose 
middle blouse, strut to the bar with the men's glasses 
and mix drinks. The men paused in their play until 
Miriam returned to hand them fresh high-balls. She 
didn't bother circling the table to serve, but leaned 
out over the table -- and the blouse sagged and Miriam 
wasn't wearing a damned thing under it. Her opulent 
breasts were clearly visible to any man who wanted to 
look. "Get your hand off my bottom -- whoever you are!" 
she challenged. And Mavis -- she couldn't tell who -- 
knew that either Ben Glover or Mickey Lewis was 
sneaking a feel of Miriam's legs and ass!

But Miriam didn't bolt away, seemed to enjoy the men's 
leering at her breasts under the gaping blouse. Then 
the hand must have been withdrawn from her fanny and 
she backed away and set the tray on a table next to an 
easy chair.

Mavis watched Miriam circle the table slowly as the men 
resumed their game. She didn't care that Miriam stopped 
behind Phil, leaned forward until a full breast rested 
on his shoulder. Mavis winked quickly when Phil glanced 
at her, questioningly. Let Miriam throw her sex at 
Phil, she mused. I don't care. She actually anticipated 
seeing her husband reach up and tweak Miriam's nipple. 
But he just folded his cards on the hand of stud and 
sat unmoving.

She wished she could have heard what Miriam whispered 
to Phil; he scowled slightly. Mavis finished her drink 
as Miriam wiggled against Phil, actually forced his arm 
around her narrow waist. Then she edged herself onto 
his lap, ground her fanny -- around and around -- 
against Phil's groin.

How obvious and blatant and wanton can a woman act? 
Mavis wondered, frowning slightly. Miriam was doing her 
best to give Phil a dry fuck! Mavis had the eerie 
sensation things were going to happen before the night 
was much older.

Maybe Phil would get a piece of ass -- strange stuff. 
Mavis pouted. Maybe he has screwed other women since 
they had been married, but tonight would be the first 
that she would know about. Herself? Mavis' fingers of 
her left hand toyed absently with the end of a long 
blonde tress that trailed over her left shoulder. Would 
she be subjected to some man's animal, sexual lust? She 
shivered as if the room had grown suddenly cold. The 
muscles in her tummy, deep in her loins, seemed to coil 
with hungry expectation -- all against Mavis' troubled 
will.

My God! Mavis fretted mentally, her eyes drifting to 
her husband who was still getting the coital rubdown 
from Miriam's teasing, goading swiveling butt in his 
lap. The others around the table had paused in their 
play to leer at Miriam trying to arouse Phil to sexual 
frenzy -- and a possible orgy right there in the 
Quentin den.

My husband will flick Miriam tonight! the thought 
seemed to explode in her mind. And I wanted his cock in 
me so much! Then an objective thought was sharp and 
scintillating in her mind. She would like to see Phil's 
face when he saw Miriam's hairless pussy and shoved his 
prick into that meaty maw. She wondered if her husband 
had ever shoved his big click into a woman's chamber 
that had no carpet of pubic growth adorning it.

Everyone was watching Miriam grind her pussy against 
Phil's genitals -- except Ben Glover. His eyes seemed 
afire, burning in his haggard, lustful face. Mavis' 
body jerked and there was a sharp stabbing sensation 
deep in her womb. Her mind was crying NO! NO! NO! But 
her vaginal appetite for a man's prong-prawn was 
increasing. Oh, God, no, she quailed. She didn't want 
to surrender her body to any more men! All the fucking 
she wanted was from her husband! She didn't want any 
further humiliating sexual abuse of her body. But she 
had a strong premonition that she, again, would yield 
her body to the panting greed of a man. She would 
spread her legs and let him in, not even resist his 
pumping his carnal prick into her!

She felt tears about to form and turned away, left the 
room. She paused briefly in the dining room, glad it 
was empty. She composed herself quickly, brushed away 
the start of tears. Slowly, Mavis followed sounds in 
the living room. She paused between the two rooms and 
watched Connie and Becky easing Terry onto the 
davenport.

"Passed out, poor dear," Connie grinned, shaking her 
head, tossing her black hair.

Don't leave her exposed like that, Mavis thought. Put 
her legs up on the davenport, together. And pull down 
her escort. But Mavis continued to stare at the inert 
girl, at the bare, sleek thighs and the rounded crotch 
sheathed in blue nylon.

Mavis turned away. She had a hunch that Terry, too, 
would have her pussy plundered by some man's horny 
instrument. A hot flush washed through Mavis' body. She 
would like to watch her fucked!

In the dining room, Connie and Becky were sitting at 
the table. Mavis set down her glass and deliberately 
filled it with screwdriver from the pitcher. She didn't 
bother to flinch or recoil as she felt Connie snake a 
hand up under her dress to feel her legs and rub her 
butt. Let her play, Mavis pouted, standing perfectly 
still -- kind of enjoying the sexy finger play inside 
her panties, in her crack.

She looked up as Miriam rejoined them.

"That Phil is a difficult man to make hard!" Miriam 
said.

"I've noticed that at times," Mavis murmured, feeling a 
little bitter, remembering that Phil hadn't touched her 
in more than a week. She tried to be flippant, "If you 
can get his horse up, go ahead and saddle it and ride 
it in your barn."

But she really didn't mean it. She didn't want Phil 
fucking other women -- and she didn't want to be mauled 
and screwed by other men. She didn't want to swap!

But it seemed they were all hurdling toward mixing 
mates! Who was going to get her? Some guy was going to 
be without a cunt -- unless two of them doubled up on 
one woman.

Oh, God! Not me! she fretted, almost in a panic. 
Especially not that lecherous Ben Glover!

Maybe she would get laid by Connie! That black-haired 
beauty now had her fingers playing with her anus and 
dabbling into her cunny pouch, caressing and gently 
pinching the puffy labia. Mavis suppressed the heady 
sensation to giggle. Getting laid and screwed -- eaten 
out -- by another woman!

Her thoughts were interrupted when Dell strolled in, 
serious and pale.

"Let's go, Becky. It's late."

"And?" Becky frowned, eyes loving, yet serious and 
concerned.

"And," Dell sighed, "I lost thirty-five dollars."

Becky didn't have to say it, Mavis thought, reading the 
small girl's expression. OUCH! That hurt. Those kids 
needed the money. It never crossed Mavis' mind to 
remember that Dell had fucked her and had been forced 
to let Connie and Miriam used his fine, young cock.

Then the handsome young couple was gone, declining a 
nightcap. That left five men and four women -- if the 
passed-out Terry counted!

It was only eleven-thirty. And the five men continued 
their poker play after Dell had withdrawn. She heard 
her husband gloat, a little loudly, a little drunkenly, 
"My pot! Damn! This is a goodern! Must be forty bucks 
in it!"

Mavis smiled as Connie stiffened slightly. She was 
pleased her husband was triumphant and happy. "Mavis!" 
Phil called and she was on her feet instantly, hurrying 
to please him. "Honey, dash over home and get me a 
couple of cigars? I would go -- but I feel a hot streak 
upon me!"

Wordlessly, she nodded under his excited Raze. Then she 
wilted slightly as Henry Carr pushed back his chair. "I 
need a breath of fresh air. I'll walk over with you, 
Mavis. We've had some prowler reports in the 
neighborhood -- I wouldn't want you to encounter some 
mean character."

Mavis breathed deeply, raggedly. You are the mean 
character, she thought with a twinge of mental misery. 
But what can I do?


Chapter 8


The moon had hidden its face behind opaque clouds 
beyond the Wasatch Mountains to the east. But Mavis 
needed no light in the inky black night to know here 
Hank Carr was! She could hear his deep -- somewhat fast 
-- breathing right behind her. She could almost feel it 
on her neck. His musky male aroma drifted on the still 
night air.

He was the one who was going to get her!

Mavis' knees weakened and trembled -- but her cunny 
muscles clutched deliciously tormenting and she sensed 
a hot flush of sex juices released in her trembling sex 
channel. Her mind cried NO! But her physical being was 
crying out to be fucked!

His footsteps were stealthy and right on her heels. No 
one had to tell her he had a hard-on. And that hard 
cock was destined to be socked into her cunt!

Mavis couldn't resist a feeling of resignation. He 
would fuck her -- and she would let him!

He was off to her side now and a hand was gently 
touching the small of her back -- the tip of a finger 
was nudged against the dimple-start of her crack. He 
wasn't even waiting until they got in the house to 
start putting the make on her! She just hoped he didn't 
think it was necessary to remind her that he knew she 
had been a whore in order to lay her! She would let him 
-- she knew she would -- she was resigned to taking him 
on, letting him hose his jizz into her twat!

Mavis cursed herself! Her sex channel was roiling, a 
boiling cauldron! Just from having Hank Carr's 
knowledgeable hand on her body. Her coital muscles were 
knotted and bunched. Her rectal passage was itching and 
burning -- and she wished that Hank would get his hand 
inside her panties and rub her asshole to relieve the 
exotic torment.

SLUT! her mind shouted at her.

And she answered silently... I have no choice. I can't 
have any of these people know and talk about my past!

Henry Carr's hand dropped away from her quivering body 
as they entered the house. Mavis didn't bother turning 
on another light as the lamp in the distant living room 
cut the gloom in the kitchen. Mavis knew exactly where 
Phil kept his cigars... in one of the vegetable drawers 
in the refrigerator.

This is where he'll take me, Mavis thought, hesitating 
on opening the refrigerator. Somehow, she knew.

"I didn't see a sign of a prowler," Hank said in the 
dim kitchen.

"I didn't either, I didn't know we had prowlers in the 
neighborhood." Mavis breathed shakily -- wishing he 
would make his move... piss or get off the pot!

There was a rustling behind her, but Mavis wouldn't 
turn to determine what it was. She folded her arms 
under her full breasts, just waiting. She sensed it was 
only a matter of time before Hank made his move. She 
shivered, hating the suspense of when he would take 
her. If it were going to happen, she wished he would do 
it and have it over with -- spare her the agony of 
uncertainty. It would also extinguish the raging fire 
that was roaring in her cunt.

There seemed to be something primitive in the air. It 
was all animal; the pursuer and the pursued; the hunter 
and the hunted. She was the prey. Mavis was glad it was 
very dim in the epic and span kitchen. She didn't want 
to see it happen to her. Hank wouldn't seem quite so 
carnal and forbidding here in the gloom. She wouldn't 
have to look at him as he gave it to her. All she would 
have to cope with were the feeling and smell and 
hearing his lustful breathing. This way, in the dark, 
it wouldn't be so bad even if he made her take his cock 
and guide it into her.

If she couldn't see him -- his face -- as he fucked 
her, maybe it would just be like an unpleasant dream. A 
short dream; depending on how long it took him to pump 
his prick into her until he came.

"You're a sexy, curvy bundle, Mavis," he whispered 
hoarsely and Mavis jumped, startled, not realizing how 
near he was. His breath even wafted fine wisps of her 
blonde hair. She hadn't expected him to speak. She had 
thought he would just start stripping her -- and take 
her!

"What are you going to do, Hank?" Mavis mumbled.

His soft laughter sent cold chills up and down her 
spine.

"Why, you came after some cigars, sweet thing. That's 
what you're going to get -- a cigar!"

"Please?" she sighed, knees weak and trembling.

"You don't have to ask for it, Mavis," Henry Carr said. 
And he placed his hands on her upper arms.

Soon, soon, soon, she fretted, he would be getting to 
her. She wondered if he were hung as well as Willie. 
Willie had a huge cock and he knew how to use it! Well, 
Hank could fuck her, but she wouldn't cooperate. She 
wouldn't even permit herself to get steamed up and 
orgasm! She wished her channel would stay dry and the 
walls of her vagina would rub him raw!

She let him turn her torso and pull her into the circle 
of his arms. God! He was stark naked. That had been the 
rustling she had heard behind her; Hank taking off his 
clothes! He had been damned cock-sure he was going to 
use his cock in her!

She didn't resist as he crushed her to his bare, hairy 
chest. He held her so firmly, her breasts were 
mushroomed almost out of the bra against him. And his 
hands were rubbing up and down her back, his fingers 
pinching her firm buttocks at the terminus of their 
downward stroke. And his touch was stoking her sex 
furnace and she was about to erupt.

"Ooooooohhhhh!" she whimpered as his mouth and spearing 
tongue found hers. His kiss was masterful and 
demanding. She let her lips part, chin lift slightly so 
he could jut his tongue into her mouth. His tongue was 
wild. Mavis felt she had never been French-kissed like 
this before in her life. And he was dry-fucking like 
crazy, grinding his groin against her tummy. And he was 
hot and bone-hard! She didn't have to see it or feel it 
with her hands; she knew Hank Carr had an immense pussy 
plunger!

His hands, now cupping her ass and lifting her up on 
tiptoes, were pushing her toward the precipice of 
climax and she was about to beg him to rip off her 
clothes and fuck her! She needed it! Wanted it as badly 
as any bitch dog in heat!

But she didn't have to beg. His hands were busy up 
under her skirt and her panties were slithering down 
over her buttocks and he was baring his target for 
attack. In seconds, the fragile, protective sheath of 
silk would be gone and there would be nothing between 
her puffed pussy and his long, hard prick! He was going 
to fuck her on her own kitchen floor!

Hank's hands left the bare, feverish flesh under her 
skirt and drifted to her shoulders. For a second panic 
and disappointment seized her. She thought he was going 
to push her to her knees and force her to give him a 
blow-job, suck him off and she would be cheated out of 
having a big cock pummeling her cunt! Whatever had been 
her earlier resolve had dissipated. Right now, she 
wanted a fuck!

But she would do just as Hank wanted, praying silently 
that she received sexual relief while he was spending 
his cock in her and deriving his own pleasure. She 
couldn't see his face in the dark as he left off 
kissing her and pushed her away. Mavis let him lead her 
to the serving bar that separated the kitchen dinette 
from the dining room.

He turned her about and pushed her over the bar. 
"What?" she puzzled in a slightly whining voice as he 
shoved her aching tits down on the Formica counter. She 
braced her arms across the surface, clenched the far 
edge with her hands. Mavis rested her face on her left 
forearm, trying to peer behind her, but couldn't see 
the naked Henry Carr. But he was back there. And she 
knew he was going to feed his cock into her cunt from 
behind.

Somehow, dog-fashion had always seemed degrading to 
her. But she wouldn't resist or complain. She was going 
to get his hard meat in her pussy. She had resolved 
that she wouldn't cooperate, wouldn't permit herself to 
climax, but, now, she was starving for long plunges of 
hard, pulsating cock in her quivering cunny.

She trembled with anticipation as he hiked her skirt up 
over her ass, exposing her fanny. Obediently, she 
spread her feet and knees apart as Hank's hands pressed 
against her inner thighs. She hoisted her rear as much 
as she could to give his prick full and easy access to 
the passion-slicked pouch formed by the swollen labia 
of her vulva.

Hurry, hurry! Fuck me! her mind implored. But she said, 
"Get it over with, Hank."

She held steady as he pushed his thumbs into the 
already-parted crease of her ass and lodged them 
against her anal pucker. She was fearful he was going 
to ram them inside her rectum -- then wished he would.

Hank was panting in soft whistles, his breath keening 
through his nostrils and Mavis could smell the 
muskiness of his genitals. She stiffened, braced her 
legs as she felt the thick point of his bull prick 
explore her crack. It was hot and gooey with his 
secretion of lubrication. For a second she thought he 
was going to cornhole her, but he wanted it in her 
snatch and he dabbed the head of his cock into her sex 
pouch and swabbed it around.

"Aaaaaaaaceeeeeeiiii," Mavis whimpered with pleasure -- 
she was unable to restrain as Hank raked the clit that 
had hardened and extended from its little silo. She 
hoped he hadn't been circumcised; she wanted him to 
have a full foreskin that was rolled back behind the 
glans and would brush roughly against the crinkled 
walls of her feverish vagina. "Fuuuuuuccckkk me!" she 
heard herself begging.

He bounced the blunt tip against the fleshy curtain of 
her vaginal opening -- then plunged about five inches 
of thick cock into her. "Aaaaaaaahhhhggghh!" she 
breathed raggedly, bracing against his forward 
pressure. His cock continued to bore into her twat and 
Mavis gulped appreciatively. Vaguely, she knew she 
would hate her slutty avarice later. But right now she 
wanted all of his cock, deep in her snatch and fucking 
like crazy.

His cock was snug in her cunt, but there was no 
grinding friction. His coital syrup had coated his 
shaft and her vagina was honey-glazed with a sort of 
sensual craze. The big head, with its roll of foreskin 
nudged her cervix and glided on past, well on its way 
toward her womb.

He was going to fuck her deep and thoroughly. As if in 
a daze, Mavis wished Hank had a big knob, like his 
dog's, that would swell and lodge inside her cove.

"Is it all in?" Mavis queried, panting with desire for 
him to start his rocking, hunching coital plundering. 
She could feel the hairy rasp of the fronts of his 
thighs against the backs of hers. A thunder was 
starting inside her and she knew she was going to be 
shaken with a premature orgasm and wished he would give 
her four or five good, fast cock-pumps before she went 
off.

"Not quite," Hank grunted. "You have a good, tight 
pussy."

Mavis almost cried out as Hank rammed the last couple 
of inches of his post into her hole. "I'm going to make 
your cunt smoke!" he promised, almost brutally jamming 
the head against the deepest reaches of her swat.

"Give-me-a-couple-of-thrusts!" Mavis begged, shaking 
her ass back at him and rotating it. "I'm going to have 
a cum!"

He swizzled it around in her clutching cunt and gave 
her a series of rabbit-like pumps -- just a couple of 
inches in and out -- and Mavis exploded deep in her 
vaginal tube. Her sphincters gripped the long, thick 
shaft and she was grateful that Hank buried his prick 
deep in her snatch and let her cum and cum and cum, her 
pleasure cascading all through her pelvic region.

Then his hands clenched on her narrow flanks, thumbs 
dug into the softness of the area between her heaving 
rib cage and her squirming ass. When he began drawing 
out of her, Mavis pleaded, "Don't pull your cock out! I 
need more fucking! Fuck me good; shoot your load deep 
in my pussy!"

She had hardly gasped out her pleading and Hank fucked 
his bone deep into her quivering maw. His pelvic bone 
banged against her ass and his balls slapped up under 
her, against her plump pussy mound.

"Ooooo-hhhhh-iiiii-aaaaaaaa-iiiii-aaaa!" Mavis breathed 
with erotic gratitude as Hank began fucking her in long 
strokes. She breathed deeply and almost swooned as she 
smelled the sweet perfume of male and female blended 
together. "How you can fuck," she marveled as Hank 
poured the prick to her in faster strokes that brought 
his cock out of her snatch until just the head remained 
inside her swat. Then, "Slock!" plunged it back into 
her. The big balls bounced against her stretched pussy 
folds.

Slock-slurp; slock-slock.

"It's heaven to fuck!" Mavis squalled with delight, 
rotating her ass faster and faster and hunching her 
tensed buttocks back at him as he slammed his meat tusk 
to the limit in her greedy cunt.

"You're a good, red-hot piece!" Hank panted, huffing 
and puffing as he hunched.

"This is a good position," Mavis murmured. "My ass is 
just the right height for you to pump your prick into 
me!"

She felt he really was making her snatch smoke as he 
fucked her with long, fast pumps. "I'm gonna cum 
again!" she wailed, voice shrill. And she felt her 
entire vaginal cavity was being shattered by the 
violence of her orgasm. "Hold it in deep and let meeee 
cum!" she begged, trying to capture his thick, 
rapacious cock with her coital muscles. But Hank fucked 
her faster, really banging his prick into her cunt.

He was cumming, too. "Aaaaaagggghhhhh!" Mavis gurgled 
with appreciation as his sex hydrant began flooding her 
innards. It was like a liquid fire that was consuming 
her pussy and her ecstasy knew no bounds. She thought -
- hoped -- he would never stop hosing his jizz into 
her. It was sooooo heavenly, having his cock fairly 
blowing her snatch full of thick, creamy cum.

She hardly knew when Hank slowly extracted his spent 
member. The erotic pleasure continued with her and she 
remained bent over the bar in the ready position, 
knowing Hank or anyone else who might enter the house 
could see her bare ass and gaping, gored puss. Even an 
inexperienced kid could tell she had been thoroughly 
fucked.

"Where does Phil keep his cigars?" she heard Hank ask 
and she knew he had backed his prick out of her.

"In the refrigerator, in one of the vegetable drawers," 
she finally managed to mumble, still reveling in the 
glory of his peckering.

"There's only three," she heard Hank say.

She heard his barefooted approach. "One for you and two 
for Phil," she heard him chortle. He pushed her up on 
tiptoe as he suddenly inserted a ten-inch-long 
panatella all the way into her throbbing pussy still in 
its cellophane wrapper.

For a moment, Mavis was dismayed. Then she started 
giggling. A cigar in her snatch. She thought her pussy-
fire was still hot enough to burn it to a cinder.

"We better get back," Hank said realistically.

"Yes," Mavis agreed, straightening. She kicked her 
panties into the utility room and followed him out into 
the night. If she got fucked again that night, whoever 
pumped the prick to her would have to extricate the 
cigar first!


Chapter 9


As Mavis followed Hank across the dark back yards, she 
was assailed by a variety of emotions. She seemed to be 
tagging after her illicit lover like a docile servant 
girl; she couldn't understand how she could submit to 
other men without even a show of resistance, then be 
flooded with remorse after they had had their way with 
her body; and as they approached the Quentin home, a 
sense of reluctance almost caused her to turn and bolt 
for her own house -- she didn't want to see her husband 
wrapped in another woman's arms in the throes of 
passion.

But she padded on after Henry Carr and followed him 
into the house and the Quentin den where the men had 
played poker. She wondered if Willie could read in her 
face that Hank had humped her in her own kitchen, bent 
over the serving bar. He gave no sign as he wordlessly 
mixed three drinks and handed her and Hank a glass.

Mavis glanced about the room and squirmed with dismay 
when she found the others weren't there. Had Miriam 
succeeded in luring Phil away? Already, their naked 
bodies might be entwined, Phil struggling between her 
sleek thighs, shoving his horn into her body, giving 
Miriam the pleasure that should be hers?
She didn't give a damn if Mickey Lewis were fucking 
Connie -- but the thought of her husband pumping his 
wonderful prick into Miriam's hairless pussy almost 
made her cry.

Mavis attempted to concentrate on Willie and Hank, take 
her mind from disturbing thoughts. How could they be so 
unconcerned, sitting here and sopping up whiskey while 
their wives were being fucked elsewhere in the house? 
Maybe they were. But, to Mavis, it appeared all they 
were interested in was getting drunk. They seemed 
oblivious to her presence -- at least she didn't have 
to worry about being taken again by Willie or having 
them taking turns ravaging her body.

"I'll get to that Terry." Willie mumbled, replenishing 
his and Hank's drinks from a bottle of bourbon. "And 
I'll shag that Becky Samon, too," he vowed, nodding his 
head as if to add emphasis.

"I'll bet she's a virgin, Will," Hank shook his head, 
disputing Willie, "and I'll bet you don't even get a 
whiff of her pure pussy."

"Yer on and how much?" Willie challenged, grinning 
drunkenly with good nature.

"Name it!" Hank responded. "A case of Scotch?"

"A bet!" Willie grinned, gulping straight whiskey and 
wiping the dribblings from his chin with the back of 
his free hand.

Mavis slipped away from them, suddenly wondering where 
Ben Glover, the grayish, haggard man with the lecherous 
eves, was. A chill shivered through her. He must still 
be about. He was the one she would have to avoid 
encountering: he wanted her! His eyes, earlier had, 
unmistakably, told her that!

Lights in the dining room had been doused but there was 
a table lamp on somewhere in the living room where they 
had put Terry Lewis when she passed out. Silently, 
Mavis made her way toward the large, luxuriously 
furnished living room. Maybe Mickey had taken his 
little wife and gone home and Phil had Connie and 
Miriam in bed with him somewhere. Oh God! she fretted 
miserably.

Suddenly, Mavis stopped cold, all of the hot liquor she 
had drunk turning to ice water in her veins. She 
cowered into heavy shadows along one wall and hunkered 
behind a large easy chair.

Not ten feet away was Ben Glover, hovering over the 
sleeping Terry. His teeth seemed long and wolfish in 
his leering mouth and Mavis thought saliva was drooling 
from his foul lips.

He was going to take and defile the dainty Terry! How 
could a man get any satisfaction fucking an 
unresponsive, passed-out woman?

What was he going to do next? Mavis wondered as Glover 
turned and peered about. The dim light struck him just 
right and Mavis could see the massive ridge in his 
clothes, extending upward nearly to his belt buckle. 
Ben Glover had a hard-on of sufficient girth and length 
to service a young cow! He would rip and tear and ruin 
the small Terry! Mavis felt, no way, could the young 
woman take what he had into her body without being 
horribly damaged.

Mavis frowned, alarmed at the warm quiverings in her 
vagina, unable to control the clutching cunny muscles 
around the cellophane-wrapped cigar Hank had inserted 
into her.

Although she was nearly overwhelmed by revulsion, she 
knew she was going to remain where she was and watch 
Ben Glover impale the helpless Terry on his giant 
lance. Then Mavis was appalled at the thought that 
burned in her brain... she wished Glover would disrobe 
so she could see his big sausage. She wanted to look at 
his hard cock, see his lusting flesh without the 
obstruction of his clothes.

She held her breath while Glover removed his shoes and 
socks, then stripped to the waist, taking off his shirt 
and undershirt. But she wouldn't see his mammoth 
phallus for a while. He wasn't going to disrobe 
completely for the time being.

Terry hadn't moved since she had been placed on the 
couch. Her right foot, drawn up still rested on the 
seat. Her left was on the floor knee sprawled wide. Ben 
Glover had a clear view of her panty-sheathed crotch. 
Mavis watched the vile man bend over the girl and she 
could see him clearly as he sniffed at her relaxed 
pussy.

He was in no hurry to get on with his depraved venture. 
He seemed to be savoring time, gloating over the 
defenseless little beauty. There was an air of 
knowledgeable confidence in the way he went about 
defiling his prey.

Mavis watched Glover step back, study the curvy woman. 
She was nothing more than well-molded clay to be mauled 
by his long-fingered hands and poked and prodded by his 
great tool.

Then he leaned over Terry and wormed a hand inside her 
blouse, inside the full bra cup and Mavis could see him 
squeezing almost brutally. Terry groaned and twisted 
slightly, but didn't emerge from her alcoholic stupor. 
She, indeed, was helpless to avoid the cruel, sexual 
assault that she was destined to receive. And Mavis, 
suddenly, nearly called out to Glover to FUCK HER!

Glover fumbled in his right front pants pocket and 
Mavis felt a rising torrent of terror as he withdrew a 
knife and opened it. The blade wasn't long, but it 
glittered evilly in the pale light. He's going to 
mutilate her! Mavis almost screamed. Maybe he win cut 
off her nipples!

She watched the tall, gaunt man test the edge of the 
blade with the flat of a thumb. She could hear him 
humming softly. Quickly, he cut off all the buttons on 
Terry's blouse. Then he sliced along the shoulder 
seams, then the side seams and tossed away the two 
front halves of the thin garment. With a deft flick of 
the blade, he cut the shoulder straps of her brassiere. 
Deftly, he cut the bra, starting under each arm-pit and 
threw the cups aside. He paused a moment to tweak each 
nipple until they expanded into ripe, pointy spires.

Glover worked the blade under the waistband of Terry's 
skirt, near the navel, and gently sawed it downward, 
severing the bottom hem. With his left hand, he folded 
the skirt flaps aside. The frail slip was cut slickly 
by the sharp knife and only Terry's panties remained to 
cover her unconscious nudity. Glover cut down each 
side, from the waistband to the leg hems, and removed 
the triangle of silk to reveal Terry's hair-adorned 
pussy. She was naked, lying there in the ruins of her 
clothes.

Now he will plunder her, Mavis thought, fuck out his 
pleasure in her with his oversize prick.

Mavis was aware of an overpowering need of a drink. 
Slowly, so that she didn't get Glover's attention, she 
crawled toward the den. As she stood up at the archway, 
she heard the front door open and close. Maybe Glover 
was going to abandon Terry -- and Mavis was aware of 
keen disappointment. She had wanted to watch him 
sexually abuse the little cunt!

She glared at Hank and Willie -- both had gotten their 
guts full of booze and were sleeping, heads and arms 
sprawled on the poker table. Willie was snoring like an 
animal. Hank had spilled his whiskey and his face was 
resting in the soggy puddle in the tightly stretched 
blanket on the table.

At the bar, Mavis removed the lid from the ice bucket 
and filled a fresh glass with ice cubes and bourbon. 
Quickly, she darted back to the living room and again 
squatted in the shadows behind the chair.

Just in timer Glover reentered the house, carrying a 
piece of wood resembling a large broomstick about four 
feet long. There were two leather loops attached to it 
near the ends. What on earth, Mavis puzzled.

But Mavis didn't have to wait long for an explanation. 
Almost roughly, Glover seized Terry's limp left wrist 
and dragged her onto the floor. He grabbed an ankle and 
pulled her to the center of the room. With a foot, he 
pushed her legs out straight, kicked her feet far 
apart. Then he dropped to his knees and lifted her left 
leg, pushed the wooden pole under it, lifted the right 
leg and worked it under, just behind the knees.

Glover knelt between Terry's legs and grasped the pole 
in the middle with his left hand. He levered upward, 
drawing Terry's legs parted thighs toward her face. 
With his right hand, he took Terry's left wrist and 
worked her hand through a leather loop which wrapped 
across her thigh from the inside. Then he slipped the 
loop over the end of the pole. Quickly, he repeated the 
maneuver with her right wrist.

Terry was wadded up, arms lashed to her knees. The 
cheeks of her rear glistened dully in the pale light. 
With thighs splayed far apart, her pussy was fully 
exposed, a ready, unprotected target for a man's sex 
spear.

Mavis shuddered silently as Glover stood and chuckled 
obscenely. His simple little sex-torture rack. Terry 
was mumbling, "No, no, no. Please? Nooooo."

"Yeeeeeessssss, cunt!" Glover hissed, removing his 
pants and shorts.

His back was to Mavis and she couldn't resist the 
tremblings of anticipation, wanting to look at his 
front nakedness. She yearned to see his bunch of tools.

Mavis stared at Glover's back, felt a little ill. The 
pulpy halves of his rump seemed to sag with the 
flaccidness of middle age. Even the flesh of his back 
seemed to hang in wrinkles and his legs were spider-
webbed with varicose veins.

But, then, Glover tensed. The veins remained in his 
legs, but the sagging flesh firmed and his lean ass was 
rounded and taut. He turned -- and a hand went 
involuntarily to Mavis' wide open mouth. He was, truly, 
immense, His blunt-headed penis sagged at a ninety-
five-degree angle from the base at his hairy crotch. 
His scrotum, full of big balls, resembled a huge 
conifer cone.

Mavis had thought the blood veins in the tall, scrawny 
man's calves were pronounced -- but his pulsating prod 
was heavily ridged with purplish blood vessels. And the 
stubbed-off battering ram was syrupy to the point of 
being disgustingly snotty.

Oh, God! She would never want that obscene tool 
drilling and ramming into her pussy!

And he was going to bludgeon that log into Terry's 
dainty, tight little hole! Oooooohhhh, Mavis sighed 
silently, staring at that huge, long hunk of hard 
flesh.

Terry was mumbling and groaning, her head twisting from 
side to side. Perhaps, Mavis thought, being bound up 
like that -- knees up high and flung wide, wrists 
lashed to them by Glover's sex bar, she was being 
roused because of the awkward position and discomfort.

Mavis sipped at her whiskey as she watched Glover run 
the big toe of his right foot up and down the flattened 
crack of Terry's ass, digging it at the stretched butt 
hole. Then -- Mavis felt a little like wretching...

Glover used his toe to spread Terry's outer pussy lips 
and ran it up and down the reddish, slicky inner petal 
folds. Don't fuck her with your foot, Mavis frowned. 
Use your big dick.

But Glover was jacking off slowly with both hands as he 
knelt between Terry's pinioned legs. He shuffled 
forward, still beating his meat, working his fingers 
around to grease his shaft with his own clear sex 
juice.

He continued masturbating with one hand as he grasped 
the bar in the center with his left hand. Mavis was 
aware of a fire kindling in her own vaginal channel, 
fascinated by Terry's slicked gash and Glover's massive 
spear.

Glover rocked Terry back and forth on her shoulders by 
pushing the bar toward her face and pulling it back 
toward him She was just a fucking machine, harnessed up 
like that, Mavis thought.

Terry's entire body quivered and convulsed as Glover 
bent the blunt head of his cock into her soupy vulva 
and swabbed it up and down, around and around. He 
shuffled forward on his bony knees and ass-hunched the 
big knob into her tiny vagina.

"Aaaaagggghhhhh!" Terry whimpered, just barely beyond 
the edge of complete drunkenness. Glover would sober 
her up, Mavis thought. He pushed his knees within a 
couple of inches of her upturned fanny. He pulled the 
bar toward him, rolling her ass toward him -- and 
gorging her snatch with about four inches of hard male 
meat.

"Eeeeeeeiiiiiiii," Terry whimpered softly as Glover's 
prick stretched the inner walls of her vagina.

Wheeeee! Mavis clenched her thighs against her own 
snatch and wiggled the nearly forgotten cigar around in 
her swat.

Now, Glover had both hands on the bar and was slowly 
pushing Terry's body away from him until only the big 
knob was in her, then pulling her toward him. Each time 
he worked another inch of his monstrous dong into her. 
When his balls rolled high in their sac, Mavis could 
see Terry's stretched pussy ring and her quivering 
anus.

"Aaaaagggghhhh!" Terry complained, not yet realizing 
how helpless she was.

Glover now had both hands on the center of the bar that 
kept Terry's hands secure, her thighs and knees fanned 
wide. His huge plunger was making a big, round fleshy 
doughnut of her cunt lips. It was, it seemed to Mavis, 
stretched all out of shape. But, what surprised Mavis, 
she was taking his cock -- all of it. Mavis had a clear 
view. In a minute -- another couple of Glover's rocking 
her body back and forth -- she would have consumed all 
eleven or twelve inches of his sex snorkel. She really 
had a snatch! Mavis marveled, vaguely aware that her 
own sex juices were boiling freely.

Mavis drained her glass and watched Glover push far 
forward on the bar, shoving it up near Terry's chin 
that was twisting from side to side. Terry's bottom was 
up on top and Glover began pumping the prick to her in 
long, fast, brutal thrusts.

"Aaaaahhhh!" Terry groaned, her voice drifting into a 
plaintive scream as Glover drilled his cock past her 
cervix and into the uterus.

Mavis thought she was going to faint as she watched 
Glover fucking the shit out of the tiny girl. She did 
collapse behind the chair as Glover pounded Terry into 
a violent drunken climax and yelled triumphantly as he 
found the trigger of his cannon and began spouting her 
upturned sex cavity full of jizz...

Mavis waited, watched as Glover hauled his long shaft 
out of Terry's body, shook the sex juice off on her 
cramped tits and into her face, dressed and departed.

Then Mavis slipped from her hiding place, squatted and 
removed the cigar from her pussy, threw it away and ran 
out of the Quentin home to her own and to bed.

To hell with Phil. Let him fuck Miriam or Connie or 
both... she slept and didn't awaken until long after 
Phil had left for Provo.


Chapter 10


When Mavis awoke, she was surprised she felt no remorse 
about the night before. As she ran a tub full of 
pleasurable hot water, she was slightly excited, 
wondering who had found Terry bound up in such a lewd 
position, ready for fucking and unable to resist even 
if she had wanted.

Strangely, she wasn't disturbed that she and Hank Carr 
had fucked down in the kitchen -- yet, she was 
reluctant to go down to make coffee. She just knew that 
the room and the memory would haunt her at first. Her 
cunny muscles squirmed. Hank knew how to diddle!

She didn't know whether it was the delightful bath or 
the memory of having her pussy plugged so thoroughly 
and exotically. She shook her blonde hair and examined 
her body in the clear, steaming water. There was no 
sign to indicate she had fornicated with relish! 
"Aaaaah," she sighed. She wouldn't go out -- except to 
the bank to get that thousand dollars to give to Willie 
to cover someone else's theft! "Damn bastard -- whoever 
you are!" she swore.

Well, she would take care of that first thing, Mavis 
resolved. She quit the bath, dried hastily and dressed 
in a tight white sweater and white slacks. Phil had 
left the percolator plugged in and she drank a cup of 
coffee quickly. Just as she was about to leave the 
house, the telephone rang.

"Hello?"

"Phil here in Provo, honey. How are you?"

"Fine," Mavis gulped. "Did you get laid last night?"

She grinned, feeling a little devilish as she waited 
for her husband to answer.

"We'll talk about it later. I just wanted you to know I 
will be down here two or three days -- wanted to be 
sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," Mavis said. "I have to go to the bank. Call 
me again tonight. I have to do some things and I want 
to get them done. By the way, Phil, I was disturbed by 
you guys' talk last night -- about some-one robbing 
Willie and the store. Is that really possible?"

"It would be easy as pie," Phil said tersely. "If 
certain people knew what the hell they were doing."

That bothered her all the way downtown to the bank, 
while she was filling out the withdrawal slip and 
getting the cash in twenty-dollar bills.

It really never left her mind until she parked behind 
the supermarket near the loading dock and started in 
the backway to Willie's office. Then she was occupied 
with another thought... would Willie put the make on 
her again -- despite his promise?

Mavis hesitated near the dark stairway to Willie 
Quentin's office. Why was there such a trembling in her 
legs? And there was such an itching and burning all 
through her loins. It seemed centered in her rectum and 
flashed through her vulva and into the very depths of 
her womb.

There seemed to be a grinding and churning in her pussy 
channel. Quick tears leaped into Mavis' eyes. Did she 
want Willie to take her and force her and fuck her 
again? Oh, no! It was cool here in the dark store-room. 
It was pleasant; Mavis could smell the mingling of 
odors, detergents, fresh produce, the butcher shop 
across the huge building.

Mavis wanted to regain her composure, shuffle off the 
squirrely yearning to be sexed. Through a small glass 
window in one of the swinging doors between the 
storeroom and the market, Mavis could see shoppers 
wandering up and down the wide aisles. The window was 
so high she couldn't see their metal carts -- but she 
had no trouble identifying Becky Samon who pressed a 
button and stepped into Willie Quentin's private 
elevator.

What was Becky doing here? Vexed, smooth brow now 
wrinkled, Mavis stole up the stairs. Vaguely, she 
remembered hearing Willie tell Hank he would make 
Becky. And a case of Scotch whiskey rode on the bet!

Full realization hit Mavis at the top of the stairs. 
Becky would get Willie's masterful penis, so hard and 
thick and long -- and she would be left wanting!

"Goddamn that Willie Quentin!" Mavis swore softly as 
she tiptoed up the stairs. "He's going to get -- 
somehow -- a piece of virgin tail and my thousand 
dollars! Well -- screw him -- he isn't getting any more 
of my ass!"

Mavis wished she could get into Willie's office -- to 
listen to the red-haired man operate, watch him plug 
the virgin's prime pussy. Oh, Lordy! Mavis sighed 
raggedly. Becky was such a tiny, fragile little thing. 
If Willie succeeded in seducing her, could she possibly 
take his huge pole into her unpracticed cunny?

Mavis shivered, perplexed that she was imbued with a 
hot sense of anticipation. She wanted to see the 
veteran cocksman stab the little blonde and give her 
the first fucking of her life! Carefully, Mavis pressed 
an ear against the door to Willie's office, straining 
to hear what was happening inside. She almost stumbled 
forward. The door had been left unlocked! Had Willie 
done it deliberately? Probably not.

The door gave inward ever so slightly and Mavis held 
her breath. She could hear the uneven murmur of voices. 
For the first time, she acknowledged that, in her 
subconscious, she would have let Willie have his way 
with her again. Hadn't her own husband shacked up the 
night before, had given his hard pecker to Miriam? And 
she hadn't had any of his cock for going on two weeks! 
Sure, she would have let Willie screw her again, if he 
pressed her for it. Jealousy began to blossom vilely in 
her mind. Willie was going to give it to Becky. What 
the hell did Becky know about how to use and enjoy a 
prick? Hell! She would probably scream and the pain 
would keep her from having even a second of pleasure as 
Willie fucked her. "But I know what to do with a pecker 
when I get it dicked into my swat," Mavis whispered to 
herself.

She no longer could hear the voices and pushed the door 
inward a couple of inches. If she could just get in the 
coat closet just inside the door. What the hell if 
Willie did detect her opening the door? After all, she 
was supposed to be there.

Resolutely, Mavis pushed the door open about a foot and 
peeked inside. There was a sound of running water. And 
Mavis reckoned that Willie was using the bathroom. She 
opened the door wider. There sat Becky in a chair 
before Willie's desk with her back to Mavis.

Quickly, Mavis stepped inside and slipped into the 
closet -- just a few seconds before Willie returned 
from the bathroom. The closet door gaped open a couple 
of inches -- just as it had been when she scurried 
inside. She could see a fragment of Becky's profile; 
when Willie leaned forward she could see his bushy red 
hair and his solemn, slightly florid face. Well, she 
didn't have to see much, she could hear everything 
perfectly.

"Becky," Willie began in a monotone, "you want to marry 
Dell, don't you? And I think you are a grand young 
couple. I think as much of Dell as if he were my son. 
Yet, Becky..."

Mavis could see the stud horse man lean forward. "I am 
afraid I may have to do something that may send Dell -- 
damn him! -- to the penitentiary."

"Ooooooh, no!" Becky cried, leaning forward. Mavis got 
a brief glimpse of her pallid face before she wilted 
back into the chair.

So, that's the bastard's game! Mavis frowned, hating 
Willie and admiring his technique at the same time.

"Do you have a couple of thousand dollars, Becky -- to 
make up a shortage in store funds that I am positive 
Dell has taken?"

"My God, no!" Becky cried. And Mavis could hear jerky 
sobs wracking her petite body. "Dell wouldn't steal!"

"I thought so; I thought so, too," Willie murmured. 
"But facts are facts, Becky."

Mavis thought Willie was thoroughly enjoying the 
innocent young woman's misery and shaken faith in the 
young man she loved. His eyes glittered and his tongue 
flicked at his slightly puffy, full lips. Christ! From 
his expression, he was already savoring her tender, 
juicy body, Mavis thought. He doesn't deserve a cherry! 
Yet, Mavis knew Willie Quentin was going to coerce the 
sweet virgin into surrendering her body and her naked 
thighs and her glory place to his sex mace. And Willie 
-- he had proved it to her -- would ravage and plunder 
that sweet, tender pussy with his ruthless, lewd tusk.

And she was going to watch him do it!

And I am a victim of his game, Mavis' anger boiled. He 
frightened me into letting him fuck me and I was going 
to give him a thousand backs for it! Like hell!

"You do want to marry Dell, don't you, Becky?" Willie 
said, feigning weariness.

"Ooooohhh, yes!" Becky wept and Mavis could see her 
shaking with emotion. "We've been planning and saving 
for more than a year! But all of our money is going for 
furniture and things for our apartment!"

Tell her how you can help her out, Willie, Mavis 
thought with a mixture of admiration and bitterness.

"I think I have a solution," Willie cut into Mavis' 
thoughts.

"A solution?" Becky sobbed softly.

He has a hard, driving bargain, Becky, Mavis bit her 
lower lip. When he gets you on the sheets without any 
clothes on, you'll find out about his bargain. It's 
about nine inches long and thick enough to make a 
heifer twitch her tail and it shoots thick, pearly 
cream all over the inside of a woman's snatch!

It's called a cock -- a hard -- on -- a prick! And he 
knows how to exact his pound of female flesh while he 
pours the meat into you!

Go ahead, Willie, Mavis conjectured, tell Becky that if 
she lets you seduce her, you mill dig into your own 
pocket and bail out Dell. Yet, he won't be giving up a 
penny! He'll just be screwing you so Dell won't go to 
jail. Well have fun, getting fucked, Becky! Dell has 
had his nookey! Me! And Connie and Miriam! So, fuck for 
fun, sweet, innocent young thing!

Mavis crowded close to the slot of the open closet door 
and watched Willie stand behind his desk. 
Automatically, Mavis' gaze dropped down his thick body 
to the pleated trousers. Yep! He was already sporting a 
monstrous hard-on!

"Becky," Willie began slowly, "it will create a problem 
for me at work and at home. But I am willing to use my 
monthly bonus and make up the rest to put back a 
hundred bucks a week for you and Dell. If you agree, 
I'll have a talk with Dell -- he can keep his job. One 
thing you mustn't do and that is mention the whole 
messy business to him. Promise?"

Mavis swiveled her gaze to squint at the innocent 
Becky. Her lips curled -- a little cruelly -- as she 
watched Becky nod in agreement. She was going to 
acquiesce to whatever Willie suggested; she was going 
to consent to lie on her back and let the big, red-
haired man fuck her! And for no reason! Dell had done 
no wrong. But Willie was going to pop the little 
virgin's cherry through frightening her.

"Okay, Becky-baby," Willie said softly, circling slowly 
around the desk, "to make it worthwhile, for 
compensation for doing you and Dell a favor, you will 
come here once a week for twenty weeks. Let's make it 
every Wednesday after you finish work at your office. 
Okay?"

Mavis held her breath, waiting for Becky to reply, 
wondering if the young woman realized, yet, what Willie 
was demanding. "All right," Becky finally answered, 
sobs ebbing slightly.

Mavis realized that -- even though Willie was standing 
within two feet of her -- Becky hadn't yet seen that 
Willie had a hard hunk of male twang bulging the front 
of his pants.

Mavis clenched her thighs together over her own hot, 
wet crotch, vulva pulpy with erotic desires, as Willie 
methodically removed his shirt and slipped his belt 
free. "Get naked, Becky-baby," Willie wheezed, kicking 
off his shoes and slipping his trousers over his feet.

"Whaaaat?" Becky murmured as if hypnotized.

"Suuuurrrree," Willie grinned, tongue licking his thick 
lips. "For twenty weeks, to pay for Dell's crime, I'm 
going to fuck you!"

It was obvious that Becky was so stunned that all she 
could do was stare and gasp as Willie shuffled out of 
his shorts and let his massive set of genitals move 
into her view. The gaping slot in the blunt tip dripped 
a long string of clear syrup. "I'm going to fuck you, 
Becky -- twenty times to pay for Dell's till-dipping! 
Get undressed -- or I'll tear those fancy rags off that 
virgin back of yours and tear that juicy rear of yours 
from asshole to belly button! Getcher fuckin' clothes 
off!"

"PLEEEEZE, NO!" Becky wept as she stood uncertainly. 
Her arms remained rigid at her sides, not protesting as 
the naked Willie stalked around her, lascivious eyes on 
her, fat lips kissing her hair, nuzzling her dainty 
ears. Becky still didn't protest as Willie removed her 
bolero jacket and unbuttoned her blouse down the back.

Mavis found herself trembling with passion as she 
watched Willie swab the head of his massive cock 
against Becky's quivering left hip. Becky's blouse came 
away and Willie quickly, adroitly undid the three hooks 
of her lacy bra. It fluttered to the floor and Willie 
smothered her firm, proud titties with the delicate 
dark tips with his meaty hands.

Baby, Mavis thought, in a couple of minutes you're 
really going to get the meat! Big hard, thick man-meat! 
Right up your snatch funnel!

Becky was paralyzed, hypnotized -- probably as much 
from seeing Willie's huge, ready sex banana as from the 
nightmarish prospect of what was going to happen to 
her. Doesn't she realize that Willie is going to 
deflower her? Mavis wondered, a hand rubbing at her own 
itching crotch, through her clothes. Doesn't she know 
that Willie is about to rupture her cherry with that 
massive sex-prod of his and fuck her?

Becky was totally naked now and Mavis stared at the 
sleek thighs, at the full, firm, ripe cheeks of her 
butt clenched tightly. Her clothes lay in an obscene 
heap around her dainty ankles. Mavis thought she heard 
a gurgle of lewd anticipation as Willie traced the 
tensed crack of Becky's ass with an index finger.

Get with it! Mavis thought. Flop her down; bust her 
cunny skin and fuck her!

Mavis was grateful for Becky's quiet sobbing; it 
disguised her own passionate gasps. She just prayed 
that her knees didn't weaken any more, letting her 
crumble to the floor. She pressed her face into the 
open door slot to watch Willie kiss and nuzzle Becky's 
tanned shoulders and caress her sleek, slender body. He 
urged her body forward, bending her so that her well-
turned fanny jutted backward. Would he take her there, 
from the behind? Mavis wondered, fingers digging at her 
own steaming vulva.

Willie urged Becky's slender thighs and knees apart 
with an urgent, hairy leg. Mavis had a minute's look at 
the virgin's small pussy pouch between her legs. The 
labia that had never been stretched by a man's cock 
were clinging together. But, Mavis knew, in a short 
time, Willie's massive dong would pry them into an "O" 
and stretch them around his pulsing shaft as he ripped 
her hymen and fucked her.

Dell should have this privilege and pleasure, Mavis 
frowned. I should interfere, she thought. But she 
remained in her closet, secluded from the crude, 
lascivious act that was taking place. She wanted 
Willie's plundering prong -- but she also wanted to see 
Becky get a brutal, ruthless screwing.

With the fingers of his right hand pursing the firm 
loaves of Becky's rear apart, Willie used a bare foot 
to urge her feet far apart. Her gentle weeping was 
suddenly jerky and Mavis suspected that Willie was 
nudging the tip of a finger against her delicate anus.

"Oooooohhhh, noooo!" Becky whimpered as Willie forced 
her torso lower, placed her hands on her trim ankles. 
He is going to take her from the rear, Mavis nodded, 
unable to control her own erotic trembling. Will he 
bust her in the asshole or will he just fuck her in the 
pussy?

Mavis wilted silently to her knees. Becky's slender 
body was pulsating rhythmically and Mavis sensed her 
loins must be fluttering with fright or instinctive 
knowledge of penile penetration. Mavis was only vaguely 
aware that her hand had crept into her own clothes and 
she was swabbing fingers up and down her hot, slick 
vulva, masturbating slowly.

She wanted to close her eyes, but the sight of Willie 
pushing strong thumbs into Becky's anal crease and 
pinching her firm flesh with his fingers was too good 
to miss. He peeled her cheeks far apart, stretching the 
rectal entry until Mavis could see the pink inner 
slickness. Maybe he will cornhole her, she breathed 
raggedly. But, Becky can't possible take his cock in 
her rectum!

Willie lowered the blunt, searching tips of his thumbs 
and Becky cried out, "Aaaaaahhhhh!" as they pressed the 
thick lips of her pussy apart. Mavis could see the 
glazed inner surfaces -- and could hardly wait for 
Willie to jab his hard penis into the tiny petal folds. 
Mavis pressed her free hand over her mouth as Becky's 
flanks heaved and her fingers gripped her ankles more 
firmly. Her hair fanned down from her head, swept the 
floor. Her eyes were closed; her mouth was slightly 
distorted. Mavis suspected shock was wearing off and 
she now realized she was on the verge of coital 
violation.

Mavis stared as Becky suddenly opened her eyes wide, 
staring, unseeing, as Willie bored an index finger into 
her vagina. "Oh, baby! You're still virgin! You got a 
tiny little basket of fruit for picking in there! Man! 
you're gain' to have the best fruit-plucker fucking you 
in this world!"

Becky cried something unintelligible and Mavis stared 
at her body, at the convulsion of smooth muscles in her 
flanks as Willie wormed his finger around in her tight 
snatch. Fuck her, Willie! And get it over with! Stop 
torturing her! Jam your cock into her and end her 
misery!

"I'm goin' to give you a thousand bucks, besides!" 
Willie muttered. And Mavis stiffened, her hand freezing 
as she rubbed her stiff clit-thorn, on the rim of a 
violent orgasm. NOT MY THOUSAND BUCKS, WILLIE!

Mavis resumed playing with her passion-greased groove 
again -- wanting Willie's prick in her -- as he moved 
in behind Becky's uptilted rump and rubbed the head of 
his cock up and down her wide-parted crack.

"Aaaaaaaiiiiii -- Eeeeeeeiiiii!" Becky muttered, 
gurgling as Willie's hot, wet knob stroked her crack 
and nudged into the vulva.

Mavis stared at Becky's proud tits that sagged slightly 
toward the floor. The tips were extended and hard. She 
may be terrified of the rape she was undergoing, Mavis 
thought, but her woman's intuition is primed for it. 
The fleshy curtain to her vagina fluttered and Mavis 
knew Becky was instinctively ready for penile 
insertion. She may not even feel the tearing and 
destruction of her hymen -- if she can accommodate 
Willie's mammoth prick!

Well, now you are going to get it, Becky, darling! 
Mavis thought, as Willie waddled in behind her like a 
bull in heat in a pasture alone with a young heifer. He 
placed a hand on her quivering hip and used the other 
to bend his cockhead into her parted vulva. He pressed 
forward and shook his hips from side to side -- right 
on target.

Mavis suppressed a gasp as she watched the purplish 
head of his cock sink into Becky's body, disappear 
slowly into her coital receptacle.

"Aaaaeggggthhh!" Becky screamed softly, yet bracing 
herself and holding her ass steady to take the big man 
behind her. "Noooo!" she screamed a little more 
shrilly. And Mavis knew that Willie had lodged his 
penetrator against the hymen. She could see his dark 
stick pulsing and vibrating. She wished he would turn 
his head so she could see whether Becky's tight cunny 
gave him any pain.

He grunted and groaned, grasping the tiny young woman's 
heaving flanks.

Relentlessly, he pulled her body back onto him.

"Ggggaaaaggghhhh!" Becky screamed shrilly and Mavis 
knew Willie had ripped away her cherry as his cock 
plunged into her stretched twat a couple of inches -- 
fast. He swiveled his hips, swabbing his knob around 
just inside her pussy. Becky's mouth was wide open and 
she was gasping as Willie fucked her in little, short 
strokes.

At last he concentrated on drilling his prick into her. 
Inch by inch. Becky didn't scream anymore, just braced 
herself and absorbed that massive, ravaging prick in 
her body. Mavis thought Willie would never make it all. 
But he succeeded in burying his rapacious prong in the 
virginal pussy and his balls slapped against the backs 
and insides of Becky's trembling thighs.

Willie kept his cock deep in her, soaking, as he leaned 
back and looked down at Becky impaled from the rear. 
And Mavis could see Becky's fluttering anus. Muscles 
were rippling sleekly in her thighs -- and Mavis sensed 
the small woman was adjusting to the ruthless violation 
of her pussy. Maybe she will like being fucked! Even 
the first time!

From the way her body shook and the alto-tone 
whimperings sifting from her wide open mouth. Mavis 
knew the virgin was getting something out of her first 
fuck. Willie was rubbing his big hands all over her, 
pushing his hairy chest down on her bowed back and 
playing with her tits, pinching the tiny nipples. He 
leaned back, hands still locked on her flanks just 
above the flare of her hips and hauled about eight 
inches of his cock out of her tight vagina.

Then he thrust it back into her, steadily -- a 
masterful fuck-stroke, sinking his he-sausage deep. 
Becky squalled as he plunged it all the way past her 
cervix, possibly into the resisting womb. No... maybe 
he just expanded her sex well to take care of his huge 
hose. Her cries and sobs and wailings were 
indecipherable. Was she liking her first fucking? 
Willie began fucking her in long, penetrating strokes. 
He bent his knees, held his body rigid, hauling Becky's 
rear end back on his pussy-skewer -- pushed her off of 
it, towed her body back. He was using her frail body so 
that she fucked herself!

His soft, gloating chuckle was almost obscene in the 
private office as he pumped her body back and forth on 
his thick shaft. And something was happening to Becky. 
Mavis couldn't describe the mutterings that were 
cascading from her twisted lips. Then! Mavis knew! 
Becky was in the throes of the first climax of her life 
-- at least while her snatch was pinioned by a male 
poker. She was orgasming all over the place.

The scream was indescribable! Yes! She was begging! Her 
words became discernable! "FUCK ME!"

God! Is she cumming? Mavis marveled as Willie began 
thudding his ass forward, driving his cock into the 
fragile body as he yanked her quivering ass back on his 
sex-spindle. His balls were slapping up between her 
legs, against Becky's tight, cock-filled belly.

You wonderful, sexy little birch! Mavis marveled as she 
soared into her own climax, three fingers buried in her 
pussy, a thumb compressing her throbbing clit. Christ! 
How you love cock!

Becky's hands were off her ankles and braced flat on 
the floor as Willie thudded his long meat post into her 
swat. She was squalling softly, begging for prick, 
reveling in having her snatch banged by a master's 
prick.

"You really love to fuck, don't you, Becky?" Mavis 
murmured ever-so-softly to herself, her own body 
shuddering with erotic sex-thrills.

All of Becky's smooth muscles seemed to be rippling 
like a sleek cat loping freely. And she was begging 
plaintively for Willie not to stop fucking her. For her 
first time, Mavis thought, she was voracious and 
demanding to have prick plugging her pussy.

Suddenly, Willie rammed his cock far into her and Mavis 
knew he was shooting his thick, creamy stuff into the 
never-to-be-again-virgin.

"Aaaaahhhh -- oooohhhh -- Goooood!" Becky squealed with 
pleasure as Willie's prick hosed her twat full of male 
juice.

Mavis watched until Willie slowly extracted his cock 
from Becky's vibrating vagina and dropped onto his 
haunches so he could tongue out her pussy and worm his 
folded tongue into her asshole.

Mavis enjoyed her own, self-induced climax and listened 
to Becky have an anal cum as Willie squirreled his 
tongue around inside the small woman's hot butt hole.


Chapter 11


At last, Willie stumbled to his feet and into his 
bathroom helping the trembling Becky into a chair as he 
went. Mavis regained her composure and stepped into 
Willie's office. With a hand on the back of Becky's 
chair she peered down at the naked girl, at the heaving 
tits that were still pointed with unaccustomed passion.

Becky's thighs were pressed together, but Mavis could 
see the remnants of jizz oozing from her snatch and 
glazing her inner thighs. One of Becky's hands was on 
her mound, fingers twirling tendrils of strawberry 
blonde pubic hair. The girl's eyes were closed and she 
was still experiencing the after explosions of orgasm, 
enjoying the thunderous sensation of having a man's 
cock pumping into her pussy for the first time.

Mavis frowned. "Get dressed, Becky," she said softly, 
then whirled to stalk into Willie's private bathroom. 
She grinned. He had really had a blast and was 
straining to force pee through his swollen tube. Clear 
syrup dripped from the gaping slit as he grunted with 
Herculean effort. Then his water started.

It was then Mavis knotted her fingers into a fist and 
struck him with all her strength -- right where his 
bent-out cock was rooted to his crotch. She swung again 
and belted him in the yo-yoing balls.

The shock even shut off Willie's scream. She hit him 
again in the gonads; again -- right on his cunt-slimed 
tusk. He wilted to the floor on his back in misery.

"I know your game, Willie! And you won't get my dough! 
You can have whatever you want -- from others -- but 
not from me!" Mavis turned and called to Becky, "In 
here, honey!"

When Becky weaved into the small bathroom, Mavis said 
to Willie, "Tell her what she has to do!"

Willie seemed to put his pain out of his mind as he 
stared at his recent conquest who had gotten dressed. 
"You will come back every week," he said.

"And you will fuck me twenty times -- and give me a 
thousand dollars, Mr. Quentin," Becky nodded, a 
feverish light in her eyes.

"Yeeesss," Willie mumbled.

"When do I come back for our next fuck?" Becky smiled 
wanly.

"We -- shall -- fuck -- again -- Wednesday," Willie 
muttered, flopping slowly back on the floor, one hand 
holding his big balls, the other nursing his aching 
penis.

"Yes, Mr. Quentin -- you will fuck me again Wednesday."

* * *

Mavis led Becky to her old car, eased the slip of a 
woman into the passenger's seat. Then she drove back to 
the bank and redeposited the thousand dollars. She 
smiled at Becky when she returned to the car. Becky 
wore a wistful expression, "I had IT! I seemed to go 
all to pieces! You know what Mr. Quentin did to me, 
don't you, Mrs. Moran? He put his man-thing in me -- 
fuuuncccckkked me! And..." her voice turned dreamy, 
thoughtful... "I liked it! It hurt a little bit at 
first, especially when he seemed to tear me!"

That's when she lost her cherry, Mavis mused, driving 
off. Oh, what a lovely baby -- and BODY! -- Mavis 
pouted, deftly adjusting the mirror so she could glance 
up and see Becky's reflection as she drove. She wished 
Becky would relax, spread her knees -- but she knew 
that Willie's jizz coated her inner legs. Damn! She 
would take Becky home and spruce her up!

Mavis almost swept through a traffic signal. What was 
she thinking? How come her heart pounded so frantically 
and irregularly? She had heard -- had read... did she 
have hot nuts to love this dainty, vibrant young woman? 
Was she contemplating girl-girl love? Oh, my God! Mavis 
wailed mentally. Yes, she wanted to undress the little 
Becky, see her nudity, put her hands on that smooth, 
satiny skin!

Then what would she do? Mavis' mouth turned dry... then 
it was secreting juices, fast as she could swallow. 
Were these love juices? Her vision was filled with the 
traffic and green trees and children gamboling on 
smooth sidewalks -- and ripe young tit points!

Mavis almost swooned as she drove into her own 
driveway. She had an insatiable craving to put her 
mouth where Willie's penis had explored. She was 
suddenly obsessed with the frantic desire to eat 
Becky's tender young pussy!

Becky was docile as a pet as Mavis led her into the 
house, into the kitchen where she mixed two screw-
drivers. Mavis turned to see Becky sip her drink, melt 
to the floor, sit Indian-fashion. And she noticed that 
the little strawberry blonde hadn't bothered -- or 
thought about skinning into her panties.

The pooch of her pussy allowed no hint that a huge 
prick had bored into those sweet lips, stretched them 
into a big doughnut! Mavis braced herself against the 
dinette table as she stared at that gorgeous young 
snatch, the puffy mound and pouting, full lips that now 
clung together -- oh, so inviting to be pressed and 
kissed.

Mavis clutched the edge of the table until the tips of 
her fingers ached. She longed to touch-tease a little -
- purse -- part -- caress -- tug that reddish, curly 
hair that adorned the mound like a valuable crown of 
spun gold -- put a finger in that orifice that, oh, so 
short a time ago had been plugged with a massive pecker 
that had gunned it full of vile male jizz!

Mavis wanted to finish what Willie had left undone. She 
yearned to lick those puffy, pinkish lips and siphon 
out all of that secretion of lust. She wanted to suck 
Becky's cunny, clean, purify and launch that gorgeous 
ass into sexy orbit and hear those nasty, pleadings... 
"Ffffuuucccckkmmmeee!"

There was a wistful, pouty smile on Becky's lips, a 
dreamy look of MMMMOOOOORRRRREEEEE in her greenish 
eyes. Although passion was mounting in Mavis' loins, 
she sensed a hot, burning dryness. She didn't know how, 
but she just knew she could do so much for the tender 
Becky. Conversely, she knew that Becky could do 
something for her.

"Did it hurt -- Becky -- when he broke your -- cherry? 
Did his big cock hurt you when he shoved it into your -
- pussy? How did it -- feel -- getting your first -- 
fuck -- from such a huge -- cock?"

She watched Becky and frowned as the small young woman 
shook her head, tossed her beautiful hair. "Was his 
thing -- big? He did fuck me -- didn't he? That is the 
word -- FUCK?"

Mavis peered at her intently as Becky stared into her 
eyes. She seemed dazed, disbelieving. "I was saving 
myself for -- Dell! And Mr. Quentin stripped me naked -
- and played his hands on my body -- squeezed my 
boobies -- pushed his thing at me... INTO ME... and 
FUCK MMMEE! He took my maidenhead, F-U-C-K-E-D M-E! I 
hurt -- for a little mite of time! Then it was 
goooooood! I liked his fucking me!"

Mavis inhaled deeply. She was puzzled. She wanted to 
scratch her own snatch.

"He's a liar! Dell wouldn't steal from anyone! He lied! 
He conned me! At first, before I realized what was 
going on, I was terrified. I didn't understand until 
after he shoved his cock into me, broke my cherry and 
fucked me! But I loved it! I wish he was here now! That 
b-a-s-t-a-r-d! I would make him fuck me right now! I 
like fucking and to be fucked!"

Mavis couldn't understand why she felt so weak as she 
mixed a pitcher of screwdrivers and urged Becky to her 
feet. The young woman said nothing as Mavis steered her 
upstairs to the master bedroom. How can I fuck her? 
Mavis worried, refilling their glasses and watching 
Becky drift onto the huge double bed. I can kiss her 
pussy and suck it and tongue it and dip my tongue into 
her vagina! I can -- I can try to work my tongue into 
her asshole and make her cum like Willie did!

Becky slugged at her drink as Mavis ran a full tub of 
extra-warm water. She cooed and purred as Mavis 
undressed her, assisting the removal of her clothing by 
turning, lifting... lifting... lifting. Mavis almost 
fainted with sensual hunger as Becky raised her fanny 
high, saluting the attention with a bump and grind of 
her enticing, hairy crotch and puffed vulva.

How can I fuck her? Mavis pondered, stripping out of 
her own clothes. How does one woman fuck another? I can 
suck her -- eat her juicy, delectable hair-dish -- but 
I can't fuck her! Only a man has a big prick and can 
fuck deep into a woman's pussy.

She bent and kissed Becky's docile, pliant lips, let 
her greedy mouth nuzzle, trail to capture one of 
Becky's succulent tit points. Mavis sucked hard, felt 
Becky's timid hand pressing into her own left breast. 
She was reassured by Becky's quickening breath.

Mavis would feel her way along. She would bathe the 
young thing good and bed her... instinct would lead 
her... maybe, Becky would eat her pussy, too! A hot 
shimmer shivered all through Mavis' body as the thought 
steamed in her mind. It would be wonderful to have a 
virgin love her cunt! She gently tugged Becky from the 
bed and urged her into the hot bath. As she was about 
to step in, too, the telephone rang.

"Damnit!" Mavis swore softly, lunging back into the 
bedroom. "Hello!"

"This is Phil, Mavis; 'fraid I'll be tied up until at 
least next Saturday. The ginks who pulled this job 
think they are pretty smart. It's about the same type 
of setup as the guys were talking about at the poker 
party. The same chain store, as a matter of fact. No 
security. One manager collects all of the money. Easy 
robbery. But I think, in this case, it is one of the 
armored van crews behind it. Should have it solved by 
Friday night. These bastards don't know how to cover 
tracks... anyone with brains could rob these people and 
never be touched! See ya sometime Saturday."

Mavis' tension and preoccupation with the naked young 
woman in the bath tub had no chance to change before 
Phil broke the connection. He was gone. All Mavis was 
left with was a vague, nagging worry and the sexual 
opportunity for girl-girl adventure.

Trembling with anticipation, Mavis returned to the 
bathroom, pausing in the doorway to study the petite 
Becky who was lying in the full tub of warm water, 
knees drawn up and flung apart, saucy breast mounds 
bobbing firmly. Her pretty lips arched slightly in a 
smile of beautific contentment. Her half-closed eyes 
almost formed a question of what happens next, but not 
quite.

When Mavis stepped into the tub, between Becky's feet, 
the strawberry blonde woman drew herself up slightly in 
the tub to make room for her. Mavis shivered with 
pleasure as she squatted and the hottish water lapped 
against her taut buttocks and splashed into the gentle 
gape of her swollen, excited vulva. She felt her 
clitoris stiffening and extending out of its little 
fleshy sheath and she was growing passionately hot.

To restrain herself from all but attacking the enticing 
young beauty, she picked up the large bar of perfumed 
soap in both hands and began to rub it up and down the 
inner planes of Becky's silky thighs.

"Aaaaahhhh-ooooh!" Becky sighed, closing her eyes and 
tilting her head back as Mavis worked the smooth soap 
up and down her legs, each stroke reaching nearer and 
nearer the glorious vee of those perfect legs. She has 
a healthy fur patch, Mavis squinted at Becky's gently 
rounded pussy that had accommodated such an enormous 
cock for the first time just a short time before. She 
had to admit there was no evidence that Willie's penis 
had stretched it out of shape. She was young, her labia 
very elastic and resilient, Mavis marveled, at last 
grazing the puffy flesh with its lavish growth of curly 
pubic hair.

"Aaaaahhhh!" Becky murmured and Mavis could see the 
muscles crawl in Becky's pussy, then up over her curvy 
body to rub the proud tits with erect nipples.

"Oh-la-laaa!" Becky cooed as Mavis built a rich lather 
on the firm melons with the bar in one hand and using 
the other to caress and squeeze and tease the dark 
brownish-pink point. You're a sensuous young lady, 
Mavis thought, letting the soap slip away and using 
both hands on Beckons breasts. Why haven't you let Dell 
get into you before this? There are a few of us who 
know that he is a virile young stud with a very 
adequate and eloquent tuba. Didn't he gun me and Connie 
and Miriam full of thick he-cream? How did you manage 
to keep him out of your sexy saddle? Mavis wanted to 
ask as she trailed her hands down over Becky's narrow 
waist and let her fingers dally with Becky's pert mound 
and the tight crease formed by the lips of her almost 
virginal snatch.

"Did it hurt when Willie broke your cherry?" Mavis 
asked, forgetting she had asked the question before.

"A little," Becky murmured. "But it was more surprise 
and not really knowing what to expect from his big dick 
than anything else. He was really quite gentle, in a 
way. I have heard and read that often a girl's first 
experience with coitus is the next thing to being 
butchered. But Mr. Quentin really fucked me quite 
gently. God! Is his thing huge! But," and Mavis frowned 
at the faint smirk on Becky's lips, "I'm already 
looking forward to the next time he fucks me. I wish 
there was some way I could watch Dell at work while Mr. 
Quentin fucks me, not knowing his fiancee was being 
screwed!"

Mavis was stunned slightly by the sex ingenue's frank 
admission. In spite of her fairly broad sexual 
experiences, Mavis was in doubt that she could function 
to any degree of satisfaction if Phil were watching 
some other man fuck her!

Becky's satisfied purring ended Mavis' distraction and 
she glanced down at Becky's squirming body to see that 
her fingers had parted the full, ripe petals and had 
dipped into the full blossom of Becky's aroused swat. 
"Let's get out and dry," Mavis said, almost curtly.

Mavis' passion had cooled somewhat and she stepped away 
from Becky and the two of them dried themselves. Becky 
seemed to be pouting. Had she expected Mavis to dry and 
excite her with the towel? A quick glance told Mavis 
that Becky wanted more by-play, wanted hands on her 
naked body. As passionate as she was, Mavis mused, how 
had she managed to keep some man from getting to her, 
romping between those golden thighs in bed or the back 
seat of a car?

And how innocent was she? The crude, vulgar words 
sprang easily from her lips... the coarse words had 
never come freely and with ease with her. She had had a 
variety of men chunk the meat into her before she would 
even permit her mind to shape the word, fuck! Yet, 
Becky spoke it like a hard-bitten whore! Well, what the 
hell? She raked the rough towel through her crotch and 
tingled the clit and she almost gasped aloud with 
sensual pleasure.

She tossed the towel into a hamper and reached into a 
closet for a bottle with an atomizer. Squatting halfway 
to the floor, Mavis sprayed her genital area with the 
sting-less cologne, then under her arms. Without a 
word, she handed the bottle with the rubber bulb to 
Becky who followed suit.

"At least we have nice-smelling cunnies," Mavis smiled, 
patting Becky on the pert behind and fingering the 
enticing crease of her butt.

"I like Mr. Quentin's spray hose and perfume," Becky 
giggled. "Maybe we oughta get him over here and milk 
him dry -- take turns. I've heard of gals gang-banging 
a guy as well as the other way around!"

"How about Dell?" Mavis asked, deliberately attempting 
to cut the young woman.

"Weeeellll, why not?" Becky smirked, striding naked 
ahead of Mavis into the bedroom and pouring a fresh 
drink.

Maybe what little they had drunk had induced Becky to 
speak so easily and profusely about -- screwing! Mavis 
mused. What baffled her was how to proceed with her 
seduction of this juicy young thing. Mavis was itchy 
with anticipation and heat was generating all through 
her tummy as she watched the healthy young animal set 
aside her empty glass and crawl into the center of the 
bed. "Mavis," Becky said hesitantly, invitingly, 
"please play with me and -- see if you can give me 
those tingly thrills Mr. Quentin did. Please?"

Straightforward, Mavis suppressed a frown. But what, 
really, do I do? She had been tight and only vaguely 
remembered the sex-working-over she, herself, had 
received from Miriam and Connie. Maybe she should call 
them!

Hell, no! She wanted this pliant young sex-gadget for 
herself. Mavis was giddy and a little awkward as she 
climbed onto the bed with her tits swaying gently.

"Ooohhh, Mavis!" Becky breathed, "you have beautiful 
boobies. Let's have some real fun! I've heard that 
girls can make each other feel so good! Kiss my tits 
and I'll kiss yours. I think we're going to have a 
yummy afternoon! Oh, golly! my hole -- both holes -- 
itch and twitch and burn!"

Mavis maneuvered across Becky so that she could suck 
onto one of Becky's hard little nipples and her own 
left breast was pressed firmly against Becky's face. 
Instantly, Becky's hot little tongue curled around a 
tit point and it was nursed into Becky's wet, avid 
mouth. Christ! she thought, she had never sucked 
another girl's tit before. She liked it! And she knew, 
instinctively, she would have no hang-ups about 
tonguing and sucking Becky's aromatic pussy! She cupped 
a hand firmly over Becky's hairy snatch and the young 
woman began squirming and writhing on the sheet. "Put 
your finger in my cunny, Mavis!" Becky begged as Mavis 
cleaved the hot lips and fingered the dainty sex-nub.

As she nibbled a nipple, then licked Becky's arm-pit, 
Mavis hoped, fervently, that the hot young thing would 
mouth -- love her pussy -- the way Mavis was going to 
eat hers.

Slowly, carefully, Mavis shifted position, swung her 
left leg over Becky and lowered her bottom toward the 
small woman's upturned face. The girl's lips and mouth 
continued to work in a suckling manner after Mavis had 
withdrawn her breast berry. She stopped when she could 
feel Becky's breath gently fanning against her anus and 
parted crease.

As Mavis nestled her own face into Becky's perfumed 
crotch, Becky's legs rose straight into the air, thighs 
flung wide, and Mavis was able to plow her tongue into 
the juicy groove and dip it deep into the vibrating 
vagina. At the same time, she pressed her own hairy 
snatch against Becky's face and her love-partner 
latched her mouth onto the full folds of tender flesh 
and dived her tongue into Mavis' hungry pussy.

Becky began shuddering first, then Mavis couldn't 
control her own thunderous pleasure that rippled 
through her loins. In unison, they started gurgling, 
"Ooooohhh -- Aaaaaghhh!"

Their climaxes were shattering. Becky was bucking and 
up-fucking with her bottom as her legs latched behind 
Mavis' neck. And Mavis sucked deeply and snaked her 
tongue far into the girl's steaming pussy and reveled 
in the grip of inner muscles and she lapped greedily. 
And Becky was sucking noisily and chewing gently on the 
thick, swollen passion-petals of Mavis' fuck-
receptacle.

Later, they lay entwined in each other's arms, hot 
fifties crushed together, sleek thighs working together 
as they rubbed their Venus mounds together, girl-
fucking...


Chapter 12


Mavis awoke slowly, grateful that she could abandon the 
subconscious and the nightmare of reality she had lived 
the past few weeks. She felt funny, tingly all over. 
She worked a hand under the sheet and touched her 
highly sensitive breasts. Then her hand slid lower and 
she found her crowning glory was, indeed, gone. Her 
mound was smooth-skinned and she couldn't find a single 
tendril of curly hair on her puffed, sensitive outer 
labia. The nurses HAD shorn her completely. Phil had 
told her so, but she wasn't sure he had talked to her 
or whether it was all part of a dream.

But her crotch was smooth and slick and a trifle raw 
from the effects of the tape and the razor. She pulled 
her foot up under the sheet and spread her knees wide. 
Well, she thought, eyes darting about the hospital 
room, that bastard hadn't damaged anything but her 
pride, really. She pressed a finger into her vulva. 
"All the working parts are intact," she giggled softly.

She wondered what all those cops had thought, finding 
her and Willie tied up in his office, without a stitch 
on and their genital areas swathed in adhesive tape. 
She knew she should feel a sense of embarrassment at 
having strange men see her naked but there was only 
relief that they had been rescued. Poor Willie! Mavis 
would bet the hospital had had a hell of a time getting 
the tape off his hard-on -- and he probably didn't have 
a hair left on his balls!

Mavis wolfed a breakfast of fruit juice, hot cereal 
toast, coffee and two poached eggs. She was enjoying 
her third cup of coffee when her husband swept into the 
room, kissed her quickly and reached under the 
bedclothes to cup her hairless pussy. "This will be 
like screwing a ten-year-old virgin," he teased.

"I was raped, Phil," Mavis frowned, worried eyes 
studying his.

"It could be worse, baby," Phil said, kissing her 
forehead and clasping one of her hands. "No real damage 
done."

"Did you screw Miriam that night?" she blurted 
suddenly.

"Let's put it this way," Phil replied softly, strolling 
away, his back to her as he stared out the only window 
in the room. "I was a little drunk -- and she screwed 
me."

"Hank got to me, too," she confessed, holding her 
breath, fearful of male denunciation growing from 
injured ego. She almost screamed at him to say 
something, he was so silent for so long.

Finally, Phil turned and winked solemnly, reassuringly. 
"I guess we're even on that score."

Conversation was stalled for a minute as a nurse 
entered with a fresh pot of coffee and an extra cup, 
for Phil. "How about more coffee?" she smiled 
superfluously and was gone.

"The robbers got about $238,000 in cash and another 
$22,000 in checks," Phil said slowly, filling their 
cups. "The bonding company has banned me from the 
case."

"Why?" Mavis said with a start, and an old fear 
assailed her again. Was Phil involved in the robbery? 
Was he under suspicion? She had heard the men all 
talking about how easy it would be to rob Willie!

"I'm an acquaintance -- a friend -- of Willie's. Even 
Hank has been taken off the case by the Salt Lake 
Police Department -- for the same reason."

"Who's investigating?" Mavis asked weakly

"The SLCPD -- and Ben Glover for the bonding company."

"Why Glover?" Mavis fretted. "He's an acquaintance of 
Willie and Hank and you!"

"Not a close friend," Phil said bluntly, "certainly not 
a neighbor like Hank and me."

Mavis didn't like the tight, cold knot in her stomach. 
Was Phil involved? She wanted to, but knew she didn't 
dare ask.

"Well, I don't care," Phil laughed, seemingly relaxed 
and sincere. "It's going to be a tough one to crack. A 
real professional job. The two armored van guards -- 
they were chloroformed or something and didn't, really, 
see a thing. Hell! They lost another couple of hundred 
grand or so from their rig!"

They finished their coffee and Mavis watched Phil pick 
up the small suitcase he had set just inside the door. 
"I brought you some clothes. Why don't you get dressed 
and let's go home?"

Mavis smiled happily, threw back the sheet and 
scrambled off the bed. For a minute, she surveyed her 
reddened, irritated fifties and hairless pubic mound. 
"I don't think I like being hairless," she complained 
wistfully.

"I like it," Phil grinned, a finger nudging the 
unwhiskered smile of her pussy and a hand caressing the 
smooth cheeks of her butt.

"Don't mess," Mavis said sulkily, remembering that 
Miriam shaved her crotch. Had her husband enjoyed 
fucking Miriam? she fretted on the way home. A sense of 
frustration almost overwhelmed her. Phil liked Miriam's 
slick cunt -- and he hadn't diddled her in a long time! 
Well, she had to admit that Hank had given her a real 
humping in the kitchen! And Willie certainly knew how 
to get a girl to spin like a sex top! And Dell had made 
her cum, like wowee! And Errol Flynn -- the Carrs' 
Boxer! And les-love had its kicks! The robber-rapist 
she hadn't enjoyed at all!

As she and Phil approached the back door, Mavis 
remembered something that caused her to stop. She 
remembered, as the robber dropped his coveralls and 
shorts and she stared at his dong, she had seen a wart 
on the left side, about an inch back of the dark, 
swollen glans. And it had raked the wall of her vagina 
with a certain tantalizing effect.

If she saw that penis again, she would know who had 
fucked her! Maybe she should tell Henry Carr what she 
remembered! She shook her head and frowned at her own 
stupidity. She could just hear Hank say, "How do I put 
out an all-points bulletin for a guy with a wart on his 
pecker?"

In the house, as Phil mixed a couple of scotch and 
waters, Mavis was still preoccupied and troubled. Phil 
hadn't been perturbed that she had been raped -- hadn't 
seem particularly affected by her announcement that 
Hank had pumped the prick to her. Well, he had admitted 
he had prickered Miriam's pussy!

Should she tell him about the robber-rapist? Maybe he 
would be peeved to find his wife paid close attention 
to a man's dingus before he socked it to her cunt!

What the hell! She was getting tired of being a sex 
captive, of sorts. "The guy who banged me during the 
robbery had a wart on his shaft!" she blurted. "About 
an inch behind the head!"

Instead of being irritated by the admission his wife 
inspected pricks before they were stabbed into her 
snatch, Phil seemed to beam. "Goddamn! I feel this has 
to be a close-to-home heist! And that may be just the 
clue we need!" Then he wilted slightly. "How the hell 
do you find a guy with a wart on his business?"

Mavis shrugged. That was similar to the comment she 
would expect from Police Lieutenant Henry Carr.

The gnawing worry that her husband had something to do 
with the supermarket robbery lingered with Mavis. "Whom 
do you suspect, Phil?" she asked cautiously.

"Absolutely nobody at this time," he frowned. "It was a 
real, professional job!" That didn't make Mavis feel 
any better; her husband, because of his background in 
insurance investigation, could qualify as an expert in 
such a venture.

"I wouldn't want any of the money," she said timidly.

"You wouldn't want part of about four-hundred grand?" 
Phil chuckled dryly. "All in unmarked, untraceable 
bills!" Mavis felt like crying.

About three o'clock, the Carrs came over and Mavis was 
grateful for the break in the awkwardness between Phil 
and her.

"Willie has a slight concussion and the blackest eye I 
ever saw," Hank chuckled as Phil served drinks.

"And eight inches of the rawest meat this side of the 
butcher shop!" Miriam laughed. "That oughta keep his 
sausage out of a girl's grinder for a while!"

"When they took all of that tape off Mavis," Phil said 
with his slow, shy, engaging grin, "they ..." he paused 
to sip his scotch ..." I guess I'll have to get her a 
hairpiece."

"They shaved her?" Miriam chortled with glee.

Mavis reddened.

"Smooth as Miriam?" Hank grinned.

"Absolutely!" Phil replied.

"I'll be damned!" Hank almost choked on his drink and a 
sliver of ice.

"You'd be shaved -- not damned!" Miriam corrected. 
"I've never seen a man without bushes and bushes of 
cockle hair!"

And Mavis knew that Phil, truly, had screwed Miriam -- 
and Hank knew it. And Phil and Miriam knew that she had 
been plundered by Hank's cock; his stallion had 
stampeded all through her sex corral!

Mavis glanced at Phil and recognized he wasn't about to 
mention her knowledge that one of the robbers had a 
wart on his dong! And she wouldn't say anything, 
either.

"How much does the police know about the job," Phil 
asked, rising to mix another round and sauntering out 
to the kitchen for a couple of cigars from the 
refrigerator.

"I found out that there was no death in the family of 
one of Willie's employees -- the cashier, I think. 
That's about all I found out before I was taken off the 
case early this morning. The notice really came from 
Ogden, not Los Angeles."

"What do you really think, Hank? An 'inside' job?" Phil 
pursued.

"Who can tell, at this time? I know that I took two 
weeks of my vacation, starting today when I was 
relieved of the investigation."

Were their friends and neighbors involved? Mavis 
fretted, wishing she wasn't getting drunk so she could 
think clearly. She tried to recall, in detail, the 
animal-like thrusts of the robber's cock into her cunt. 
She remembered, not quite clearly, the rasp of the wart 
in her vagina as he fucked her. It had sent sharp 
electrical sparks all through her pelvic region as it 
rasped the wall of her channel. Then he had sunk his 
cock deep and shot her full of his jizz.

She couldn't remember -- but she didn't recall that 
Willie had a wart on his dong. And she had watched it 
all taped up. Hell! She had even jacked him off to make 
him hard! But she couldn't remember. Oh, that didn't 
figure. He had been bound into his chair and the guy 
who had screwed her while she was all tied up was the 
guy with the node on his pussy-knocker! I guess I am 
getting drunk! She hadn't seen Hank's packer. He had 
fucked her from behind, in the dark kitchen. She didn't 
know whether she had felt a wart or not. She had been 
tense and apprehensive. Who else had fucked her? She 
wasn't sure about Dell Emerson; that had been almost 
like rape -- under threat. Who? She had seen Glover's 
cock, vaguely, as he plunged it into Terry Lewis. But 
it had been dark. Oh, damn! She was starting to suspect 
everyone she knew. It probably was none of them -- she 
hoped.

But, if she could find the guy with the wart on his 
penis, she would have one of the gangsters. And that 
might lead to the others. There was one thing she had 
to do -- that was clear in her alcohol-fuzzed brain -- 
to find the guy with the raspy little lump on the side 
of his peter!

How? Maybe she would start up or down through the ranks 
and screw the most likely suspects. Why not Hank first? 
He was here!

The prospect of a hunt for a certain pecker started a 
warm tingling in her loins and Mavis sensed hot juices 
perking all through her itching vagina. She nodded as 
Miriam excused herself to go to the bathroom. Then 
Henry remembered a telephone call he wanted to make and 
said, "I'll use the extension in the kitchen."

As soon as Mavis and Phil were alone, her husband 
asked, "Do you suppose Hank might be THE guy? You 
really don't remember from the night he pumped his 
prick to you?"

Mavis frowned. "No, I don't."

She remembered the exquisite sensation of having her 
twat filled with mammoth prick and his harsh hairiness 
rasping against her fanny cheeks and the backs of her 
thighs. But a wart on his sex-pole? No.

"Maybe you should take steps to find out," Phil said, 
frankly inviting her to take on Hank as if he had no 
more concern about his wife screwing another man than 
if he had suggested that she start dinner.

"Oh, Phil!" Mavis demurred. And she was troubled again 
by the possibility of identifying the robber who had 
fucked her. What if he did turn out to be one of their 
close acquaintances -- and Phil were involved? Yet, 
maybe he wasn't a party to the crime. She just couldn't 
visualize her husband standing by and letting some guy 
screw her during the robbery when it wasn't necessary. 
However, it occurred to her, he could have been part of 
the gang and had remained outside the store.

Oh, Christ! She didn't know whom to suspect! "Phil, you 
don't really think our friends could be involved, do 
you?"

"If I were investigating this thing -- which I'm not -- 
I would look at it as an inside job," Phil said, "and 
that includes Willie."

"Not Willie, honey," Mavis protested. "You didn't see 
the way that guy slugged him."

"Maybe you're right about Willie," Phil shrugged as 
Henry and Miriam rejoined them. "There's one way we -- 
you -- can start eliminating possibilities."

And this meaning was obvious -- seduce the suspects!

After Phil had distributed fresh drinks, Mavis frowned 
at him. "Okay!

But no one is going to watch!"

Phil only answered with a grin, nodding as Mavis 
shifted position casually on the sofa and let her skirt 
brush high up on her thighs. Her sex scenery wasn't 
missed by Hank's eyes and Mavis thought she detected a 
telltale swelling as he steamed up slightly.

It would be no trouble to seduce Hank -- but she was 
damned if she were going to let Miriam and Phil watch 
her examine Hank's dong for a wart, then flop onto her 
back and let him fuck her!

Well, get Miriam out of here! Mavis fretted mentally. 
If I'm going to lay Hank, I want both of you out of 
here! Hank's eyes were drawn to her parted knees, 
trying to stare up her skirt to her panty-clad pussy. 
And Mavis felt his gaze was almost a physical touch on 
her bare skin and she was beginning to get a little 
hot. She leaned toward her husband and said softly, a 
little bitchily, "It's been a long time since I've seen 
yours -- maybe you've developed a wart in that time."

"Bullshit!" Phil snapped and Mavis watched him shuffle 
on the sofa, noticeably uncomfortable and perhaps a 
little guilty.

"We're about out of booze," Phil said offhandedly. "I 
think I better take a trip to the liquor store. Who 
wants to go along? Hank? Miriam? Just to make sure I 
can find my way back."

"Let me go, Phil," Miriam said quickly. "I want to get 
some things at the supermarket and the pharmacy next 
door."

Mavis turned her head to hide a scowl. You slut! You 
want to get in my husband's pants again!

"Okay, let's go," Phil said amiably, clearly pleased 
that Miriam was going with him. And Mavis pouted, And 
yon want another crack at her cookie jar!

In seconds, Mavis was left alone with Hank whose eyes 
were becoming glazed with passion as he continued 
trying to penetrate her panties with his eyes to 
explored her freshly shaved crotch. She spread her legs 
a little wider, giving him a totally unobstructed view 
of the silk-covered joy place. "You old dog," she said 
lightly, "you want to bury your bone in it, don't you?"

She winked at him as he gulped his drink. You bastard, 
stare! I know you didn't see it that night, it was too 
dark in the kitchen. All you got was a lustful feel and 
you shoved it to me from behind and unloaded your fizz. 
Well, I'll get a good look at it today!

Mavis didn't have to force a dazzling smile of 
invitation. She was beginning to appreciate Hank's 
lecherous stare up her dress. She squirmed slightly and 
her dress was rolled up in her lap and her long, 
tapering legs were in full view. Hank feasted his eyes 
on the inner softness of her creamy thighs and the rich 
curve of her pussy.

"I don't expect them back for a while," Mavis murmured. 
"Wanna finish what you started the other night?"

"What?" Hank muttered, a little dumbly, his mouth 
working as if he were already gobbling her pussy. Mavis 
made the muscles slither in her thighs and Hank's eyes 
bulged.

"You didn't give me a complete fucking," she smiled, 
slowly unbuttoning her blouse and slipping it off. She 
arched her back, lifting her bra-encased tits high. 
"Like?" she teased as she removed the bra and moved her 
body from side to side, causing her ripe boobies to 
jounce before Hank's feverish gaze. "You just had your 
own jollies" she pouted, "a girl likes to be fucked 
with a good prick until she has her fun, too. And you 
have such a magnificent cock, Hank," she added, 
praising and flattering him, but meaning it, too.

His big meat was wonderful; it had filled her cunny to 
the brim. And she was getting more anxious to crack his 
big nuts and have his thick cream whipped in her 
churning box.

And it was obvious, from the husky bulge in Hank's 
trousers that he was well-armed, even though he had 
left his police revolver at home, that he was getting 
huge, and had a high-caliber gun barrel. Just the 
banana for her hot split!

Mavis' vagina was crawling with the sensation of an 
active sponge, twitching in its eagerness to soak up 
Hank's ready phallus. She stood and leaned forward 
slightly, tempting Hank with her full tits, tips 
swollen and hard. She hoisted her skirt from the back, 
not letting him see her, and grasped the waistband of 
her panties. She worked them off over her rump and down 
her long legs. She let them skid to the floor and 
kicked them off, giving Hank only a flirty glimpse 
above her knees. She was all but ready, yet Hank was 
still fully clothed. Get naked, she was tempted to 
shout at him. Let me examine that big thing of pours, 
then let's fuck!

"Is this a one-sided exhibition?" Mavis challenged, 
turning her back to Hank and shaking out of her skirt. 
She stood motionless for nearly a minute, letting him 
ogle her naked back and full buttocks. She worked the 
muscles, pinching the half moons of her ass firmly 
against the long, curving crease.

She didn't want him from the rear this time; she wanted 
him between her spraddled thighs with her feet kicking 
high in the air so she could gobble all of his massive 
cock in her cunt mouth.

Mavis was aware of a warm stickiness between her legs 
as she crawled onto the sofa and lay down, careful to 
draw up her right leg to shield her shaved pussy from 
Hank's lustful eyes. Jeez! How they burned with 
passion, the heat in them a match for the fire raging 
deep in her womb. "Get your clothes off, Hank!" She had 
almost forgotten, in her rising frenzy to be serviced 
and sated by his long stud-tool, that she was only 
doing this in order to try to trap the robber who had 
plugged her twat while she was helpless. God! She 
wanted cock in her snatch! She needed a vigorous sex-
romp with male meat pounding long and smooth into her 
vag! Well, it wouldn't take much time to inspect Hank's 
hot, hard shaft for a wart then they would fuck!

"Hurry!" she panted, wiggling her fingers in his 
direction. She couldn't keep her fanny from lurching in 
coital grinds on the sofa. It kept bouncing erratically 
as erotic flames leaped and seared her viscous swat. 
Her flanks heaved and her loins ached and her vagina 
clutched hungrily for a meal of fat cock. She smiled 
encouragingly as he stood and began undressing. In 
seconds, after she checked his tusk she would have him 
inside her pumping the prick to her, relieving the 
sensual tensions. God! She needed a cum!

"Hurry, fuck-partner," she begged, "I want that huge 
prick in me! I want it fucked in deep!"

Mavis didn't have to look down at herself to know that 
the puffy pussy lips were gaping in a slight smile and 
her vulva was like a greedy mouth waiting to devour 
Hank's cock-sirloin. And -- there it was! -- he had 
plenty of it. Long! Thick! Hard as an oak branch! A 
wonderful fuck-tool!

She watched Hank approach, stiff-legged, his big bone 
wobbling from side to side as he walked. Then she 
reached with a trembling hand to tease his big nuts 
with the tips of her fingers. Tenderly, she seized his 
shaft near the hair-matted base and bent it toward her. 
She was tempted to suck him off, it looked so 
delicious! She slid the thick, tight skin back. She had 
milked down a lot of cocks and she knew she could make 
him cum by jacking him off -- with only a few strokes. 
God! His shaft was rock-hard and hot as a poker! She 
didn't want him to shoot his goodies under the goadings 
of her hand. She wanted him to hose his jizz into her 
sex-starved pussy!

She gripped it tight and studied the thick-skinned 
dong. There wasn't a sign of a wart. He wasn't the man 
who had screwed her during the robbery of Willie's 
store. Well, she wasn't going to be left empty-handed -
- empty-handed? She had a handful of magnificent pussy-
pleaser and she was going to have this massive male 
member crammed into her snatch, hauled out and rammed 
back in and she was going to cum and cum and CUM!

"Okay," she said huskily, shuffling on the sofa to make 
room for his spread knees between her parted thighs. 
"Let's have fun! Come on, Hank, let's fuck!"

As he positioned himself between her veed legs, knees 
against her tense ass, she seized his prick in both 
hands. "I'll guide it in," she panted, pressing the 
pear-shaped knob into her vulva, massaging the red 
inner lips, then aiming it against the fluttering 
opening to her ravenous snatch.

"Aaaaaahhhhhhh," she whimpered with passionate 
anticipation as Hank slowly nudged his cockhead into 
her throbbing vagina. "Ooohhhh, sooo goood! Fucking is 
such fun!" she dug her nails into his shoulders, 
leaving red tracings of her wantonness.

She jerked her fanny up and down and around to assist 
Hank as he slowly drove his shaft all of the way into 
her until his hairy balls bounced against her up-tilted 
butt. The pucker string of her anus felt like a burning 
ring of fire. "God! Fuck me, Hank. Fuck me hard and 
make me cum!" she begged.

Wham! Bang! After several slurpy, industrious pumps, 
Mavis felt she was about to shatter. His cock's head 
slammed past the cervix, into the womb. There was the 
pungent aroma of male and female sex-heat thick in her 
nose as Hank fucked her faster and faster.

Sloosh! Sloosh! Sloosh!

His prick plunged in and out of her cunt.

"I'm cuunummmmiiiinnnng!"

A scream of rapture bounced off the walls and the 
ceiling as Hank pounded the cod into her and she humped 
her ass to meet his pistoning cock-thrusts. Spasms of 
erotic pleasure gripped her and her whole body felt 
like flowing lava.

She didn't have the robber between her legs, but she 
had a master-fucker riding and bouncing and bucking in 
her fuck-saddle. And he really knew how to thud the 
meat to a girl.

"FUCK ME FATSTER, FUCK ME DEEPER!"

She was like a shooting star and sparks of passion 
seemed to be exploding everywhere. She wouldn't have 
cared less as she careened through her violent pleasure 
had she known that her husband and Miriam were parked 
in the Carr garage with the double door closed.

Phil was sipping raw scotch from a bottle as Miriam 
sucked him off, savoring his cock and giving him a 
sapping blow-job.

She was in the thrall of her fifth climax and Hank was 
gunning his jizz into her snatch as Miriam and Phil 
shifted into the back seat to fuck until their sex-heat 
steamed up the car windows.


Chapter 13


Mavis awoke with the sweet realization that she was 
naked atop the covers in hers and Phil's bedroom. My 
husband, she thought, must haste carried me upstairs to 
bed. She stretched slowly, deliciously. Criminy! Hank 
Carr gave me a good fuck!

Her cunny still crawled and convulsed with the pleasure 
of having his huge cock socked into it.

With eyes still closed, Mavis caressed her firm tits 
and pinched the nipples. One thing, though, she 
frowned: Hank wasn't the robber who had raped her. She 
reviewed the situation quickly. And it hadn't been 
Willie Quentin. And she was positive it wasn't Dell 
Emerson. Who? Her quest for the man with the 
tantalizing growth -- or wart -- on the side of his 
penis might never be fulfilled. She could fuck all the 
Mormons and Catholics in Utah and still not find him! 
What a helluva way to try to help her husband crack a 
robbery -- bed all the men around!

Mavis stifled a giggle. What a delightful way to 
conduct an investigation... give all the suspects the 
third degree between her thighs, grilling them -- and 
their peters -- in her pussy!

She turned onto her side and opened her eyes slowly. 
She squinted and smiled broadly. Phil was lying on his 
hack beside her. He was blessed with a massive hard-on 
and his husky gonads were rolled high in their crinkled 
sac.

Delicately, Mavis raked a fingernail across the 
purplish head and restrained the desire to laugh as her 
hubby's stomach muscles crawled and his erect penis 
trembled. Gentry, she jacked him off, just running the 
tip of an index finger over his thick shaft, working 
the tight, thick skin up and down.

Phil groaned; his ass bucked upward to meet her touch. 
"She sucked the whole thing," Phil mumbled and a smile 
brightened his expression. "She ate and sucked and 
swallowed the whole thing."

Mavis pouted, then frowned. He was talking about Miriam 
Carr. It was clear to her. Miriam had given Phil a 
blow-job -- and it was still in his mind. She has to be 
a master at cock-sucking, Mavis thought, if the 
pleasure she gives a man will dominate his 
subconscious. Mavis raised on an elbow to study her 
husband. Phil had been sucked off and he, obviously, 
had liked the lips of a woman -- Miriam -- lapped 
around his dong slavering and licking and sucking!

"Christ!" Mavis whispered softly, "he still has 
lipstick all over his packer -- and it's matted in his 
cock hair and smeared all over his belly and balls."

You bastard! She swore softly, taking hold of his long, 
hot shaft. She began to masturbate him in a determined 
manner and his body jerked rhythmically.

"Oooooohhhhh," Phil mumbled. "She sucked and ate the 
whole thing."

Mavis jacked him off with greater diligence, rising to 
use both hands on his prick. Faster and faster. If it 
hadn't been for Miriam's mouth paint all over her 
husband's genitals, she would have been tempted to blow 
him herself! But she drew the line. She decided she 
would see if he had any jizz left in his reservoir.

"And he does..." she smirked as she felt the tensing in 
his pipe. She worked harder on his joint. "Shoot, you 
bastard! Shoot your cum all over yourself!"

She whipped her hands up and down on his cock and kept 
it up all the time Phil ejaculated thick spurts of 
sperm all over his belly, even up into his chest hair.

He awakened with a start and frowned as he realized 
that Mavis had jacked him off all over himself. Then he 
grinned as she scampered off the bed. "At least Miriam 
didn't create a mess." He swatted futilely at her naked 
butt.

"She may have sucked you off and you didn't get cum all 
over everything," Mavis corrected, "but she left you a 
mess -- your club all painted up for war. I'll make 
some coffee."

"It wasn't Hank, was it?" Phil called after her.

"He doesn't have a wart on his dingus," Mavis replied.

As Mavis was fixing breakfast, Phil received a 
telephone call. Over their third cups of coffee, he 
said, "I have to chase my ass over to Reno. That was my 
boss on the phone. And, according to him, I am more and 
more under suspicion in connection with the robbery 
here."

His tone was mild, but his bitterness wasn't concealed 
from Mavis. She saw his eyes briefly and the pain in 
them almost made her cry.

"Oh, how can they think you were mixed up in it? You 
weren't even in the area."

"But I was in the area," Phil shook his head. "I can't 
account for some five hours of my time even though I 
was here, at home, at the time the robbery occurred."

Mavis turned away. More than ever, she wished she could 
strip away the mystery -- that is, strip the robber, 
screw him, if necessary, and find the man with the wart 
on his peter.

She wished Phil didn't have to leave, but realized that 
being busy, on an investigation, would be better for 
him than being idle, waiting for something to happen.

How, she wondered, could Willie and Hank be so blithe 
and carefree about the robbery? They just seemed to be 
so nonchalant about the whole thing. And her husband 
was the one who was catching all of the hell!

She was just kissing Phil good-bye when Terry Lewis 
drove up, obviously a little tight. The trim little 
pixie sauntered up, wearing hot pants and weaving her 
vixen body enticingly. "Mavis, do you know where Connie 
and Miriam are?"

Mavis suppressed a frown as she caught a brief glimpse 
of the way her husband peered at the diminutive, but 
very seductive little orangish blonde.

"No," Mavis said, "I haven't seen them." She was 
tempted to tell her husband, Get the hell out of here, 
or fuck her right now, on the lawn!

It was indelibly in her mind, the wanton scenes of 
Terry Lewis. She was a fuck-kitten and, probably 
wouldn't object to Phil's stripping her down to the 
buff, slamming her down on her back or taking her on 
all fours. Terry fairly oozed sex; an aroma of fuck-
fuck seemed to emanate from her every pore -- not to 
mention her crotch orifice!

"I'll call you when I arrive in Reno," Phil grinned and 
Mavis frowned as he started the engine and backed 
slowly from the drive. Oh, you'll fuck her later, huh? 
She waved goodbye until Phil turned the corner and was 
out of sight. Without even turning, Mavis was aware of 
Terry close behind her, could smell the sweet perfume 
of hot pussy. The very proximity of a vibrant, warm 
female primed for a sex domain whatever form -- started 
Mavis' sexual organs churning... the puffy lips of her 
pussy grew hot and her coital channel seethed with 
lustful anticipation. "Let's go in the house," Mavis 
said.

"And have a drink and take off our clothes and play fun 
games," Terry tittered, falling in beside Mavis. As 
they entered the back door, Terry taunted, "I'll bet 
you haven't had a chance to get a sweet screw from your 
husband since he got home from Wyoming, have you? But, 
you've been getting some stiff dick, haven't you?" 
Terry teased.

Mavis ignored the all-too-true analysis. As she mixed 
drinks in the kitchen, tried to keep her eyes from the 
great expanse of bare skin revealed by Terry's scanty 
attire, she asked, "Whose car are you driving? That 
isn't yours and Mickey's."

"Maybe not, maybe so," Terry pouted. "It's a T-Bird. I 
like it and I'll have it."

Mavis had never made many Singapore Slings, and the 
third pair of them didn't go any faster. She merely 
frowned as Terry said, "I got something in the car," 
and she ran through the house, her woman aroma wafting 
on the air. When her measurements proved faulty, Mavis 
tilted the bottles of straight booze into the glasses.

She wasn't happy, but was, strangely, exultant about 
the delicious sensation of her pussy fairly steaming 
with anticipation of having sex-fun with Terry Lewis!

"Did you like the randying you got from Del Emerson, 
Mavis?" Terry winked when she returned. "And how about 
Mr. Carr? And Mr. Quentin? And, how many others, 
Mavis?"

Mavis didn't like the subtle, prying inquiry about -- 
what Mavis interpreted -- her life as a whore. "Did you 
like your trick with the boxer?" Mavis countered. "How 
about your being jumped and sex-banged by that dirty 
old Ben Glover?"

"Massive cock!" Terry grinned, drinking deeply. "Mean 
as hell -- the way he fucks a girl!"

Mavis' pulse quickened, but she recoiled mentally. She 
didn't want Ben Glover's insidious prick in her body. 
Yet, provocatively in her mind was the thought... does 
that lecherous old man have a wart on the side of his 
long pussy -- pole? God! Would she have to fuck him to 
find out? To determine whether he might have or might 
not have been the robber who had fucked her during the 
night of the supermarket heist?

She shuddered with grim dread. Would she have to? Have 
to fuck him -- take his sex joint into her canny? She 
wouldn't ask Terry if she remembered whether or not the 
lustful man had a growth on his thing. Terry, being as 
drunk as she had been, probably couldn't remember 
anything except Ben Glover's rocking the cock to her.

Mavis felt her skin growing hot. Sleek muscles tensed 
under the silk dressing gown she wore as Terry's 
lascivious eyes prowled over her. "Mick took some boys 
from the summer recreation program camping in the 
Wasatches and won't be back until tomorrow afternoon," 
Terry said. And Mavis was aware of the lithe young 
girl's shallow, almost passionate breathing.

And you want us to have a lesbian fling until then, 
Mavis thought. She wouldn't meet the flashing, sensual 
invitation in Terry's eyes. Maybe I should get Becky 
over and we can have a threesome -- but she's probably 
priming herself for another blast from Willie's sex 
thunderstick.

Why not Del Emerson? Mavis frowned; maybe it would be 
best to go along with Terry's game and get their sex 
thrills from each other. Eventually, Mavis' eyes were 
drawn to Terry's nervous fingers that kept toying with 
the package wrapped in brown paper. The sexy gal seemed 
obsessed with opening it.

"What's in the package?" Mavis queried softly.

"A toy that will beat the hell out of that gadget 
Miriam has!"

The sensual warmth that flooded through Mavis' body 
made her even more keenly aware that she was absolutely 
naked under the dressing gown. Where there had been a 
faint dread and a wish that Terry would leave, there 
was now a hot, almost lewd anticipation taking its 
place. And Terry's eyes were fastened to the loosening 
vee of the gown that revealed the deep valley between 
her feverish, pointing titties.

Terry's faint, smirking smile told Mavis that her 
companion was cognizant of the passion that was 
clutching her loins, that passion juices were starting 
to steam in her undulating vagina. The craving for sex 
was almost painful. Mavis was tempted to demand to see 
what was in the package. She was already convinced, 
after Terry's flat hint, that it was some kind of sex 
tool. Well, the way her pussy was crawling with need, 
she hoped it was a big one. Her deep well was like a 
starving mouth, eager to be crammed full of sex fare. 
She needed it! She just hoped that Terry was adept 
enough to girl-fuck her until she was satisfied.

Trying to control the tremulous tone of her voice Mavis 
asked slowly, "What's in the package, Terry?"

Mavis wasn't sure whether the hot film of moisture on 
her inner thighs, near her crotch, was from 
perspiration or was the sweet passion-hone from her 
vulva. God! How her labia and asshole itched!

"A double-dildo!" Terry exclaimed triumphantly.

Mavis frowned. Why doesn't she unwrap it? She watched 
Terry stand, slowly remove her halter with the built-in 
bra cups. Mavis stared at the perfect cones of firm 
flesh. The nipples, surrounded by tight aureoles, were 
taut brown spikes tilting slightly toward the ceiling.

Her fingers itched to touch the smooth woman fruit 
untouched by the sun. They seemed frothy and 
confection-rich with little smooth berries on top of 
all that sweet whipped cream. Her mouth watered to 
savor Terry's luscious breasts and to nibble those 
dainty nubs.

"Where do we romp, Mavis?" Terry asked, excitement 
building in her voice. "Take off your robe and let's 
find a place to make girl-love!"

Mavis watched Terry float to her feet, breasts hardly 
quivering from the motion. The puffy eagerness of 
Terry's pussy lips was a pronounced prominence in her 
hot pants. A proper name, Mavis thought, for those 
rape-inviting shorts... HOT pants! And Terry certainly 
has hot pants!

Well, her own box wasn't exactly an igloo! Mavis 
whirled, letting the hem of her gown swirl to give 
Terry a quick look at flashing, creamy thighs, and led 
the way through the house and upstairs to her's and 
Phil's bedroom. Mavis shrugged out of her gown and 
tossed it atop a bureau of drawers. When she turned, 
Terry was skinning out of her hot pants. Eyes missed 
eyes -- they were too busy exploring each other's 
bodies. Desire fanned through Mavis as she marveled at 
Terry's delectable nakedness. And Terry's sex-glazed 
stare told Mavis hers was just as inviting.

Mavis stood perfectly still as Terry tossed her package 
on the bed and approached slowly, clutching her breast 
mounds near the base, pointing the swollen nipples at 
Mavis. Mavis' breathing was shallow and hurried as she 
watched Terry rub first one nipple, then the other 
against her own. The gentle friction of Terry's tittie-
rubbing, plus the promise of tempestuous, illicit girl-
sex seemed to kindle an intense fire all through Mavis. 
She hoped Terry would suck her pussy -- and she would 
eat her in return. Slowly, Mavis reciprocated and 
grasped her own hot breasts, pointing them "in" so that 
her nipples mated with Terry's hard, burning points in 
electrifying thrills.

They shuffled toward each other, crushing their tits 
together. As they twined their arms about each other's 
naked bodies, Mavis felt the titillating tickle of 
Terry's profuse pubic mat tickle her hairless Venus 
mound. Mavis caressed Terry's lean, sleek back and 
shuddered with pleasure as her love-companion kneaded 
the firm, smooth buns of her fanny.

Mavis loved the contact of flesh against flesh, the 
gentle rasping of Terry's pussy hair. Mavis hunched her 
rear end forward to increase the pressure of the fleshy 
sex mounds that formed a parapet to their cunnies. Her 
hands found and cupped Terry's firm seat-buns as she 
shivered, loving the way Terry worked her fingers into 
the crack of her butt and probed for the tight, burning 
crinkle of her asshole! She almost wished that Terry 
would worm a finger into her anus and finger-fuck her 
bowels...

AND THERE IT COMES! Involuntarily, Mavis slid her feet 
apart, pushed her rump back slightly, relaxed her 
buttocks to take the demanding finger deep into her 
rectum.

"Aaaaagggghhhh!" she sighed raggedly, capturing Terry's 
partly open mouth with her own. Terry responded by 
fucking her pelvis against Mavis and stabbing a hot, 
moist tongue into Mavis' mouth and tickled her palate. 
"Aaaaaahhhhh," Mavis sighed, wiggling her ass as Terry 
swizzled her finger around in her ass channel. Mavis 
wriggled harder, feeling pressure against her stinging 
clit by Terry's sex mound.

Trembling, they wrestled frantically in each other's 
arms for several minutes, on the threshold of orgasm, 
but not quite able to make it. Their boobies were 
welded together; their pubic regions were grinding; 
passion thrills danced in Mavis' loins; Terry's finger 
stirred a deeper carnal, animal pleasure deep in Mavis' 
butt hole.

"Let's get on the bed," Terry moaned, "and we'll sit in 
each other's saddles and girl-fuck!"

Mavis didn't want to break off the tantalizing contact, 
Terry had drawn her away out and orgasm was just a 
question of time, but she let Terry back away. "Get on 
the bed; on your back; put your hands under your hips; 
brace them up high." Mavis was aware of a hot, gooey 
sweetness in her crotch. Lithe and athletic, Mavis had 
no trouble following directions. She felt a little 
silly with her legs straight up in the air, feet far 
apart, her hairless pussy exposed to her partner's 
lascivious gaze. She wished Terry would hurry. She 
needed fucking! Through half-closed eyes, she watched 
Terry step up on the bed.

"Brace yourself firmly," Terry panted with passion, 
positioning her right foot against Mavis' upturned 
fanny and stepping through with her left foot, placing 
it near the base of Mavis' left breast, between arm and 
ribs.

Mavis spread her legs wider, expanding the vee of her 
taut thighs. She tilted her head so she could watch 
Terry part the full, thick petals of her pussy. "That 
feels good!" Mavis moaned as Terry massaged the clit 
with the tip of a finger and dived a finger deep into 
her hot, throbbing swat. "Ooooohhh!" she whimpered, her 
ass bumping and grinding to accentuate the pressure, 
wanting more and more in her cunt. "Heavenly!" Mavis 
groaned. She rotated her rump, up-fucking her snatch 
against Terry's educated hand.

She watched Terry's other hand at work in her own 
crotch as the girl pressed her labia far apart so that 
the slick inner surface was fully exposed. And Terry 
was turning her own pussy blossom inside out.

Terry squatted slowly, her smooth, firm, rounded 
buttocks caressed Mavis' inner right thigh; her pussy 
mesh, curly and rich, raked her left. Mavis thought she 
could feel the intense heat of Terry's voracious young 
snatch as it sank closer and closer.

Then there was faint contact... then full pressure... 
and Mavis felt their searing pussies were welded 
together in ecstatic, erotic bond.

"Two women can screw pretty good," Terry panted.

"What a delicious sensation," Mavis murmured as Terry 
swabbed her bottom around, rubbing the hot slickness of 
their cunnies together. Mavis thought she could feel 
Terry's hard clit needling against her own and up-
bucked her ass and came quickly, sharply, almost 
painfully.

"Ooooohh, fuck me!" Mavis whined, reveling in having 
her snatch glued to another woman's in wanton female 
intercourse. She looked up at Terry's triumphant face, 
eyes half-closed, relishing her own orgasm. "I never 
realized two women could latch their pussies together 
and fuck sooooo goooooood!" Mavis choked with pleasure. 
Terry had both of her arms around Mavis' stiff left leg 
for support and was girl-fucking like mad. The breath 
of passion whinnied through her narrowed nostrils as 
she fucked around and around rubbing her steaming, 
burning snatch against Mavis'.

"Oooooohh, ffffuuuuccckkk -- fuck, FUCK!" Terry 
grunted, shaking her ass around and around, faster and 
faster. "I'm ready again!" Terry screamed, fucking 
faster. "Let's cum together!" and she churned her 
crotch faster and harder against Mavis' scorching sex 
orifice.

"I'm cumMING!" Mavis squalled, up-fucking her ass, 
suddenly shattered by sensual relief losing muscle 
control. She went limp, burning with pleasure as orgasm 
danced along every nerve. She was vaguely aware that 
Terry had collapsed toward the foot of the bed, their 
pussies still melted together.

Shortly, she was aware of the rustle of paper and knew 
that Terry must be unwrapping her double-dildo. It was 
such a heavenly pleasure, having her parted pussy lips 
kissed by another woman's cunt mouth. Mavis didn't 
protest as Terry crawled from contact. Her strength was 
returning after being buffeted by the erotic session of 
female coitus with the tempestuous Terry. She righted 
herself and crawled to see what Terry was doing.

She stifled a gasp as Terry withdrew the instrument 
from its wrappings. The color was that of a male, 
Caucasian. "Merciful gawd!" Mavis breathed, staring, 
wide-eyed. It was as if two well-hung men, with hard-
ons, had run into a guillotine. And the full genitals 
of both had been united at the base. Two sets of hairy 
balls growing out of each other. And long phalluses 
pointing in opposite directions. Mavis noted, 
admiringly, that each shaft was at least nine inches 
long: the heads were gorgeous, enormous bulbs -- and 
the thickness of the spears would make a heifer cough!

"Can we fuck each other with that?" Mavis inhaled 
slowly, gulping.

Terry giggled. "I think -- hope -- so. If we can, won't 
it be a marvelous fuck?"

"How do we do it?" Mavis sighed, her pussy again 
spasming with eagerness. After all, she had just had a 
clitoral cum and needed a deep vaginal penetration to 
really set her off and satisfy her craving for prick.

They flopped over, lying side by side, face down with 
their knees drawn up under their heaving, naked 
tummies. Mavis watched Terry play with the artificial 
dong, take one knob into her mouth as if giving a man a 
blow-job. Mavis touched one set of the hairy balls and 
was amazed at how realistic they felt.

For a minute, they peered into each other's eyes. Terry 
stopped sucking the cock and they kissed quickly, held 
the contact, tongues swizzling in each other's mouths.

"I think I know," Terry said, slipping away. "You stay 
where you are."

"I'm not going anywhere," Mavis giggled. "Not when 
there is the prospect of having my pussy fucked. And I 
want to try to take all of that wonderful prong in my 
snatch!"

"Be patient, passionate love," Terry chortled, voice 
musical and happy behind her. "What a beautiful thing 
you are from behind. I just feel like licking your butt 
hole and tonguing your gorgeous pussy!"

"Don't be bashful," Mavis laughed, tossing her butt in 
little tantalizing circles, really wanting Terry to eat 
her pussy and asshole.

"Maybe later," Terry chirped. "I'll give you your half 
first, then take mine. We'll go at it rear-to-rear." 
Mavis quivered delicious pleasure as she felt one of 
Terry's hands on her upraised buttocks. "Here it comes, 
love," Terry murmured. Mavis braced herself as she felt 
the object swabbed in her wide rut. "That's the hole," 
Mavis sighed as Terry pressed the big knob against the 
vaginal entry.

"Betcha!" Terry agreed, cramming about two inches of it 
into Mavis' sultry snatch.

"Aaaaahhhh!" Mavis purred, wincing slightly as the 
massive pole slid deeper and deeper into her feverish 
body.

"Here it comes, baby," Terry said, "this should fill 
your snatch absolutely to the brim with make-believe 
cock!"

"God!" Mavis groaned.

"You have a cuntful!" Terry gloated and Mavis rotated 
her ass with pleasure as Terry fucked in and out of her 
a few times. "Hold your scrumptious snatch and butt 
still while I fill my greedy cunt with my half. This 
should be tops if there ain't no man around!"

Bracing herself on the side of her head, Mavis watched 
Terry shuffle around. She worked a hand under her belly 
and grasped a set of balls, holding the tool steady 
until Terry was ready. She felt the sweet brush of 
buttocks against her own. She felt the tool jockeyed 
about slightly and Terry groaned, "Damn! It's a big son 
of a bitch! I'm gonna take it all if it stretches my 
snatch all out of shape! Ah! In it goes! What a nice 
cock-feeling in my canny!"

As Terry continued working the huge shaft into her own 
body, Mavis could feel the fat pole jostling in her own 
swat, sending ripples of pleasure jerking through her 
body. Once Terry jumped and Mavis almost growled at her 
not to pull the tool out of her.

"When I finally get it all the way in me," Terry 
panted, still laboring to sock the massive dong into 
her snatch, "we'll hunch back and forth toward each 
other -- we'll back-fuck and really ball the jack."

"I don't know whom you're talking about," Mavis panted, 
"but I wish this jack were here and we'd really fuck 
his balls off!"

Instinctively, each clutched a set of artificial 
genitals and began manipulating their cunts around the 
dual post. It let them control the pace and depth of 
penetration; they liked it in deep, their ass cheeks 
rubbing. Terry's pace was frantic; Mavis' was more 
measured as she fucked her cunt on the thing in long, 
slow strokes. When they climaxed, they released the 
balls, tangled their fingers in their hair or beat the 
mattress with their fists and fucked their asses 
against each other as they exploded with sex pleasure 
deep in their loins.

"Wwwwwhhhhaaaatttt fffuuuucccckkkkin'!" Terry breathed 
raggedly as she and Mavis slowly emerged for their 
fifth cums.

Mavis wanted to get one more jolting climax. The big 
dong was sliding smoothly and easily into her greased, 
boiling snatch up to the simulated balls. "One more!" 
she howled, "and you can eat met! We'll eat each 
other!"

But the telephone rang and they were interrupted for a 
few hours. Their frantic, passionate girl-fucking was 
over for a while.

Willie Quentin demanded that Mavis come down to the 
store. He emphasized that it was urgent!


Chapter 14


Mavis freshened her body and dressed while Terry lay 
sprawled in the middle of the bed, the huge dong 
protruding from her snatch, one end still buried in her 
body.

"Mick isn't going to like me having that T-Bird," Terry 
frowned, "but I'm going to keep it, anyway!"

Mavis watched the little sex-pot slowly fucking the 
dildo in and out of her snatch.

"I should go down to the store with you and get a fast 
fuck from Willie," Terry panted.

"I don't think he'll fuck anyone for a few days," Mavis 
replied, remembering how Willie's dong had been taped 
up just a few days before. And Becky would get his 
prick' if anyone did.

"What's it all about?" Terry asked shakily, in the 
throes of a half-orgasm, slamming the big, artificial 
male-bone deeply into her swat.

Mavis frowned as she stared at Terry, feet kicking in 
the air, thighs flung wide as she masturbated herself 
with the dildo. For a second, Mavis wished she had the 
other half of the dong scrunched into her own pussy 
again.

"Probably something about the robbery," Mavis muttered. 
"There's booze in the kitchen and the den; help 
yourself. I'll be back as soon as I can get back."

* * *

At the store, Willie stopped her from taking the 
elevator to his office.

"The investigator -- Ben Glover -- wants to interview 
you about the robbery.

He's somewhere in the storeroom."

Mavis' skin felt cold and scaly as that of a fish or a 
snake. She didn't want anything to do with Ben Glover -
- especially not in the darkened stockroom! But she 
watched Willie take the elevator to his office and she 
entered through the swinging doors.

A match flared in the gloom, about ten feet away, and 
Mavis saw Ben Glover's hawkish face reflected in the 
flickering flame. He exhaled smoke and shook out the 
match. "Come over here, Mrs. Moran -- Mavis -- baby -- 
and tell me what you know about the robbery."

Her guts twinged and she sensed her vaginal passage 
turning cold and dry. He was a fucking beast! 
Hesitantly, almost mesmerized, she approached, stopping 
within a couple of feet of where he lounged on a crate 
of fresh lettuce.

Somehow she knew -- he -- Ben Glover -- was going to 
give it to her. He was going to fuck her. And her guts 
boiled and her whole sex tract felt as if it were being 
seared by fire. HE WAS GOING TO FUCK HER!

"Baby," Glover said' easing forward on the crate and 
taking a pocket flashlight from his coat, "I think you 
know more about this robbery than you have told the 
cops."

"No, no, no, no!" she muttered, recoiling mentally, but 
not retreating from the tiny penlight that he kept on 
her face, moving it from one eye to the other.

The small light almost blinded her: she couldn't see 
his face. But she felt his hand, rather, his finger and 
thumb as he tweaked one of her nipples. She wished she 
had worn a coarse, tight bra -- instead of the filmy, 
lacy harness and matching bikini panties. It, probably, 
wouldn't have made any difference. Ben Glover was going 
to screw her with his long, lascivious prick!

Glover kept her right nipple in pinched captivity. The 
light left her face and she was in total darkness. The 
penlight was stabbed into her left breast and Glover 
twisted it against the tumescent point that seemed to 
burn under the pressure.

She shivered as he traced the light down over her ribs' 
across her stomach to poke at her navel. "Aaaaaaahhhh," 
she moaned, tormented and frightened.

The pressure of the small flashlight was increased on 
her belly button, starting nerves tingling deep in her 
rectum. Mavis stifled a gasp. God! It sparked wanton 
twitches all through her loins, into her inner thighs -
- all the way down into her toes.

He was going to fuck her!

And she sensed she wanted him to fuck her!

If he fucked her, she would know together he had a wart 
on his prick -- if he were one of the robbers! The one 
who had raped her!

She couldn't see. The light was dug into her belly. Yet 
her senses were alive. Glover's breath was on her face. 
She could smell him. His odor wasn't rancid, but was 
musky and virile. Her tummy crawled; she could almost 
feel his hard cock against her soft flesh!

She would not flick him back!

"Phil have a hand in it -- baby?"

"No!"

"Come on, sweet cunt! Tell me what you know!"

His hand left her breast and mauled her right buttock, 
tugging her body toward him. A finger dug at her crotch 
-- and she heard the hint of a skid of a zipper.

"NO!" she gasped.

The light left her navel -- and a hand grabbed her by 
the butt, her skin crawling under his hand. "He was 
involved! Tell me what you know!"

"Nothing!" Mavis thought her voice fairly rang with 
denial in the dark storeroom.

"Show me and tell me what you did at THE time!" Glover 
demanded.

Mavis was glad to get out of his grasp -- yet she knew 
she was going to get his sex trunk in her! She almost 
giggled with relief that he was no longer touching her. 
Her relief was short -- a hand shucked up under her 
short dress and long fingers were cuddling the full, 
long, curvy loaves of her ass as she preceded him. And 
fingernails were finding the upper waist hem of her 
skivvies. He was going to strip off her panties and 
fuck her!

He hooked a nail and her panties were slipping off the 
Saucy flirt of her upper buttocks. "Nnnnnoooo!" she 
protested as Glover pushed her into the deeper shadows 
of the stockroom.

"And you let the bandits in, huh?" Glover snorted.

THERE WAS THE SOUND OF A ZIPPER SKIDDING!

And Mavis could smell -- more strongly than ever -- the 
odor of prick! It was so strong it almost panted back 
at her! It was only a question of -- not if -- but when 
he would diddle her!

She was about to get a whole belly full of prick!

Her panties slid down around her ankles and her legs 
quaked. Glover heisted her skirt up over her back and 
dug a finger, doodled it around in the crack, and 
nudged the tense anal pucker.

Mavis wished her cunny would stop hungering for hard, 
long male meat!

"Phil had nothing to do with it!" she yelled as Glover 
pushed her over stacked cartons of vegetable juice, big 
cans.

One of his thumbs hooked her in the asshole and stabbed 
into her throbbing rectum. His left hand gripped her 
left thigh and her legs skidded apart; she hunched her 
rump back at him as she felt the cozy knob of his cock 
rake the smooth crown of her butt.

She was about to get him in her!

He was about to fuck her!

Mavis shook her head, desperate, helpless. She was 
about to get this terrible man's dirty old cock! She 
wanted to run. But she was going to take him on. Her 
entire rear was exposed to his attack -- and his hands 
had captured her heaving flanks -- and the thick, 
dripping knob of his jobber was jabbed flush against 
the entry to her bowels!

Not in the asshole!

She sobered slightly as Glover sagged his knees for a 
more direct aim and planted the knob of his cock in her 
bloated vulva. Damn you! Mavis swore silently at her 
pussy, don't look forward to getting his prick inside 
ME!

Mavis sensed his tensing, aiming his dong.

Here IT comes, she thought -- braced herself for his 
forward onslaught. She moved her weight to the left 
when he missed and she knuckled his cockhead into her 
vulva.

"DAMN!" she complained as Glover buried his bone deep 
in her viscous swat, slamming the hard head against the 
curvature of the cervix and ramming to the very depths, 
stretching her coital cave.

"DAMN YOU!" she shrieked, rearing her ass backward, 
trying to out-fuck his massive prick.

But he was pumping the meat into her snatch, rasping 
the lips of her outer pussy -- and there was no wart!

There was no wart on his dong! He was not the robber-
rapist!

Tears flooded into Mavis' eyes. He was no help. She 
thrust her ass back to meet his forward hunch, fucking 
her like a mongrel dog.

"It's all a waste!" she wept as she maneuvered to get 
all of her assailant's prick. The knob banged against 
the bottom of her sex canal and she almost swooned from 
an overwhelming orgasm.

Mavis swung her ass wildly, slamming her taut rums 
loaves against his pelvic region as he poured the cock 
to her. She tightened her sphincters in revenge that 
she didn't have the right one; she wouldn't have minded 
taking the prick of the robber-rapist!

She rotated her fanny, shoved her exposed rear back 
again -- unmindful of his long finger in her ass-hole. 
She lifted on tiptoes, trying to break off his prick in 
her pussy.

"Aaaaagggghhhh!" she wailed, trying to fuck him into 
nothing. But he was too much man. He started squirting 
his jizz into her; grabbed her by the ass cheeks, 
prying them apart; hauled his prick out of her pussy 
and shoved it roughly into her roiling bowels where he 
finished unloading his semen.

She was fearful he was going to make her suck him 
clean, but he left her there, skirt up over her butt, 
legs spread far apart for fucking, weeping in 
frustration, cunt and rectum well-hosed with cock Juice 
...

After several minutes, after letting his male sap 
drizzle to the floor, Mavis adjusted her clothes and 
fled. All she could say, starting the old car, was that 
he wasn't the one; he didn't have a wart on the side of 
his prick. The fucking had been for nothing.

Mavis was glad, for the first time, she had no cunny 
carpet. His jizz didn't cling and clot in pussy hair. 
"Ha-ha-ha-ha!" she laughed, almost hysterically.

She wept all the way home. She was glad that Terry was 
in the kitchen, drinking vodka over ice. "Ben Glover 
thinks Phil is involved in the robbery!" Mavis sobbed, 
taking the glass of ice and vodka that Terry pushed 
toward her as she slumped into the breakfast nook.

"He screwed you!" Terry shouted -- and Mavis detected a 
tone of frenetic anger. "That bastard! Fucking you! 
Trying to push that robbery onto you and Phil!"

"Come home, Phil!"

A little later, she let Terry undress her, lead her 
upstairs and bathe her in soothing hot water. Then they 
returned to the kitchen and drank in half-brooding 
silence. The booze relaxed Mavis and she grew drowsy. 
Vaguely, sometime during the evening, Mavis was aware 
of Terry coasting her back upstairs and putting her to 
bed. Before drifting into deep sleep, she snuggled 
against the kittenish softness and warmth of Terry, 
thinking how nice it was to have someone in bed with 
her.

Sleep endured until nearly two o'clock the next 
afternoon, until it was dispelled by the insistent 
front door chimes. Clumsily, Mavis crawled from bed and 
struggled into a dressing gown. She left Terry asleep 
in the bed as she hurried downstairs to answer the 
front-door.

She stared stupidly at Mickey Lewis whose mouth was 
pursed in a grim line. "Is Terry here?" he asked 
curtly. "I see the car she was driving is out front."

Mavis nodded, glancing at the sleek, powerful 
Thunderbird. It was a pretty thing she admired. Even 
the colors of the Utah license plates harmonized with 
the color of the car; so often they clash.

"She stayed all night with me," Mavis yawned. "Come in, 
Mickey; I'll make some coffee and call her. God! We 
must have slept fourteen hours!"

Mavis left Mickey sitting impatiently in the living 
room as she went to start coffee percolating. She was 
aware of his eyes on her body as she strode back 
through the living room, flimsy gown fluttering about 
her thighs as she went to waken Terry.

She found Mick's wife half-awake, stretching and 
yawning. "Mickey is here," Mavis told the naked doll.

"Oh? Is he back already? How did he know where I am?"

"He said he saw the car you're driving," Mavis replied, 
heading back downstairs.

"She's dressing," Mavis told Mick whose piercing gaze 
stabbed at the loose vee of the gown and traveled 
downward, lingering for a moment on the pubic region, 
then dropping to her knees and generous length of 
tapering thighs. "The coffee should be done," she 
murmured, going to the kitchen and returning with pot, 
cups and saucers, cream and sugar.

As she and Mick sipped coffee, waiting for Terry to 
join them, Mavis wished he wouldn't stare at her that 
way! His intense gaze almost made her flesh crawl. And 
he made no effort to conceal his interest in peeling 
off her gown, putting his hands on her and having his 
way with her.

She would have liked to recross her legs, but she 
didn't want to give Mick that momentary view up her 
inner thighs toward the sensuous place he coveted. 
Damn! His eyes gave her chills and hot flushes that 
tingled deep in her womb and danced outward through her 
loins.

When Terry joined them, Mickey demanded, "What are you 
doing with that car?" His tone was flat, cold with 
anger.

"I want it and I'm going to have it," his wife said, 
pouring herself a cup of coffee.

A brittle silence lasted several minutes and Mavis 
thought she could almost see Mickey's thought processes 
in action. Terry was defiant, yet there was an air of 
flightiness in her demeanor. Mavis had no doubt that 
Mickey would have his way. He was studying his next 
move; in a moment, she thought, he will lay down the 
law to his young wife.

"Tomorrow, you'll take that car back to Ely, Nevada; 
arrange to store it for your brother; take the bus back 
here," Mickey said flatly.

Mavis frowned slightly: why had Mickey over-stressed 
certain words? back to Nevada... your brother... It was 
almost like some kind of code that husbands and wives 
often use; it tells the outsider nothing, but has very 
clear meaning for the married couple.

"Let's have some brandy in our coffee," Terry said, 
glancing at Mavis questioningly. "I want the car, 
Mick," Terry almost begged as Mavis went to get a 
bottle of brandy.

"You... will... take... it... back... to... Nevada 
tomorrow," he snapped.

Something clicked in Mavis' mind as she returned. Back 
to Nevada? Why... it has Utah plates! Whatever was 
Mickey talking about?

"I'll take it back," Terry acquiesced numbly. And Mavis 
noted she had put the same stress on the word. 
"Tomorrow, as you say."

"Good!" Mickey grinned. Now that the issue about the 
car was settled, the grimness left his face, replaced 
with a bright, easy smile and laughing eyes.

Mavis was uncomfortably aware that Mick's eyes again 
were undressing her. And his stare wasn't lost on 
Terry. What he had in mind, if given the opportunity, 
was clearly spelled out by the huge lump in the crotch 
of his trousers. He was a dirty dog with a big bone and 
he wanted to bury it deep in Mavis' flower bed!

He asked to use the telephone and made no effort to 
shield the massive tenting of his swollen pecker from 
hers and Terry's eyes. Returning, he flopped onto the 
sofa, stretching his long legs out before him and said, 
"My party was out for a little while; I gave your 
number, Mavis. Is that all right, if he calls back 
here?"

She nodded numbly.

Mickey grinned and waved his cup toward his wife "I 
think you better take that car home and put it in the 
garage -- where it will be safe -- until you leave for 
Ely tomorrow It worries me, being responsible for other 
people's property."

Nooooo! Mavis recoiled mentally. She could sense an 
insidious plot developing. And the narrowing of Terry's 
eyes told her it wasn't just imagination, either. It 
was quite plain that Mick had devised a way to be left 
alone with her! He wanted to fuck her -- and he would 
have his wife out of the way. Terry would be at home 
and Mickey would be here, waiting for a phone call that 
would never come! He could take all of the time he 
needed to seduce her. This tall young man was going to 
fuck her and Mavis felt helpless to prevent it!

Mavis wished she hadn't drunk the brandy, felt she 
needed a clear head to cope with whatever lay ahead of 
her. Hell! she knew what lay ahead of her! Mickey Lewis 
was going to lay her!

She wanted to plead with Terry to stay, but she was 
gone before the words would form. And Mickey was 
sitting across the room from her -- and the male bulge 
in his pants was getting huskier all the time. He 
seemed to taunt her, gently scratching the curved 
material over his balls with a fingernail.

"You want it, don't you, Mavis?" Mickey asked suddenly, 
his fingers idly stroking his penis and gonads through 
his clothes.

"W-what?" Mavis stammered. The blunt, verbal approach 
had always dismayed her. She thought she much preferred 
straight physical jousting -- the way Hank and Ben had 
gotten to her.

"You want some of this, don't you, Mavis?" Mick 
persisted, goading his sex business to even greater 
dimensions with his left hand.

Mavis felt even more vulnerable than ever, wearing 
nothing but the thin wrapper. She was dully aware that 
she was so disturbed she had been unmindful of her lone 
garment; it sagged open dangerously, revealing the deep 
cleavage between her breasts. And his gaze made her 
tits tingle! The folds had fallen away below the waist, 
exposing lengths of creamy thighs. She glanced down 
quickly and held her breath. Mickey could see almost 
all the way to her shaven crotch. She was ripe for the 
taking!

"Well, you want it and you're going to get it, baby!" 
Mickey chuckled hoarsely. "I'm going to fuck you good, 
Mavis! We are going to have a real hot, lively sex 
party. I'm going to fuck your sweet twat full of big 
meat and dump a whole load of sex rocks in your 
quarry!"

Mavis gasped silently. "No, no, no, NO!" she blurted.

"Yep!" Mickey laughed, rising and stripping to the 
waist and taking off his shoes and socks. "You want it 
from behind; me on top; or you top-riding? Me, I like 
to fuck in all positions! Which way do you like to fuck 
best?"

Mavis' vagina contracted and she fretted that she 
wouldn't be able to take the monstrous cock that was so 
clearly outlined in Mickey Lewis' pants. It was huge! 
Maybe she could absorb him all right if she were 
receptive to having him plow his big dong into her 
cunt. But she felt all shrunken tight inside.

"Let's fuck, baby!" Mickey declared, striding up to 
her, taking her left arm and tugging her out of the 
chair.

"PLEEZZEE!" Mavis begged. But she didn't resist him as 
he pulled away the only flimsy garment that covered her 
nakedness. There was no doubt about it; he was going to 
screw her!

"Nice body; fancy tits!" Mickey breathed, pinching one 
taut nipple and raking his tongue across the other. He 
sucked the hard spire into his mouth and chewed 
roughly. The sharp tingles seemed to explode like 
needle jabs in her anus, her pussy and her navel.

His right hand went around her, caressed the smooth 
small of her back and fondled the tense buns of her 
fanny. She wondered how long he would toy with her, 
maul her, before he got down to the business of 
flopping her down and fucking her. It was almost 
degrading and humiliating, standing there tolerating 
his lecherous hands on her skin, his mouth sucking her 
nipple, fingers kneading her flesh.

Resigned to his sexual manipulation, she wished that he 
would hurry, give it to her, fuck her until he was 
finished and get out! A big hand was on her right 
flank, the fingers dived between her crimped thighs, 
forcing them apart and caressing her hairless mound.

Mavis shuddered involuntarily as Mickey worked a finger 
into her groove and rubbed the tender clitoris. 
"Aaaaaashhhh!" she sighed, unable to keep her feet from 
drifting apart to give him free play in her crotch. 
Nerves jumped and tingled in her inner thighs. 
"Eeeeeeeiiiii!" she screeched as Mickey stabbed a 
finger into the snug orifice. He laughed with 
satisfaction around the nipple as he sucked with his 
wet mouth. He was going to arouse her in spite of her 
disgust toward him. She knew he would have no trouble 
laying her out and fucking her. Her misery was 
multiplied as she began to realize that he was going to 
make her want his cock in her cunt! Like a brazen 
animal in heat! Hungry for his prick!

She told herself she, really, didn't want to be fucked 
by Mickey Lewis! But he was stirring up her passions 
and her body was being tuned up for a tumultuous 
sessions of sexual carnage!

"Let's get with it, Mavis-baby," Mickey breathed, his 
hands all over her nude body. "Let's fuck!"

She seemed aflame with wanton desire. She trembled 
weakly as he stepped back from her. "Where do you want 
me?" she asked huskily, eyes half-closed. "Do you want 
to fuck me on the floor? On the sofa? Or would you 
rather we screw upstairs on the bed?"

He had sparked a fire in her and her vagina was 
seething like a boiling cauldron.

"Let's fuck on the floor," Mickey wheezed, undressing. 
"Lie down on the floor -- let's screw there."

Obediently, Mavis glided to the floor, knowing that his 
eyes were on her bare rear end. She stretched out prone 
on her back, eyes half-closed. "Do you want to fuck me 
topside or dog-fashion?" she asked, holding her legs 
tightly together against her pussy.

She wanted it!

"You can fuck me any way you want to," she whined 
softly. She felt she could hardly wait for Mickey to 
push her thighs apart and crawl on her. She was aching 
-- craving -- for his meat spear deep in her snatch. 
"Give it to me," she whimpered. "Fuck me deep!"

She got a brief glimpse of his mammoth instrument as he 
parted her knees and settled between her thighs. 
Instantly, her legs fanned wide and her feet kicked 
high into the air. Mickey pushed her feet far back 
toward her head and she grabbed her toes. Her sex 
saddle was flattened out for his body, rich hairless 
pussy tilted upward to take his thick, hard meat.

"Plunge the prick to me!" Mavis begged, her body 
twisting with sexual gluttony, wanting him to hurry, 
poke his cock into her throbbing swat.

She quivered with anticipation as Mickey dipped the 
hot, fat glans into her passion-slicked furrow. She 
sighed with ecstasy as the smooth head slid over her 
swollen clit. "In me!" she pleaded. "Fuck it into me!"

Mavis wiggled her ass around, trying to get him to 
locate the blunt tip against her ravenous opening. 
"Aaaahhh, there!" she wailed softly as Mickey planted 
the head of his prick against the entry to her vagina. 
"Oooooohhhh!" she sighed as he thrust forward, popping 
the thick head of his pecker inside her body.

"Fuck it in deep!" she pleaded, waggling her fanny up 
at him, attempting to lever her body to capture his sex 
plunger. "Let's fuck," she wheedled.

"Yeah, baby!" Mickey murmured and his cock began 
sliding slowly into her cunt, deeper and deeper, 
stretching her channel. "You got a hot pussy!"

Mavis knew she had all of his cock in her because she 
could feel the heavy weight of his balls against her 
flattened, upturned rump and his hairy groin was ground 
against her smooth, hairless pussy-pillow. "Let it soak 
in my cooze a minute; then fuck me!"

She loved the deep penetration, the way he kind of 
rotated his ass, grinding his groin against her, prying 
his massive prick around and around in her snatch as if 
he were trying to ream out her sex cove. She felt that 
the hot, juiced lips of her pussy were vulcanized 
around the base of his pulsating shaft that he was 
feeding into her in little short jabs.

"Oooooohhhh... God!" she gasped with erotic pleasure so 
intense she thought she was about to explode. "Come on, 
honey, fuck it to me! Give me all of your marvelous 
cock in big plunges! I need fuckin', lots of fuckin' 
with your wonderful prick. Shove the meat to my cunt, 
Mickey-baby!"

She held her breath as he slowly snaked his pecker out 
of her. "Here it comes, Mavis," Mickey grunted in her 
ear, a hand mauling one of her ripe, tender tits.

"Yes! Yes!" she moaned. "Ram the prick to me! Make my 
pussy smoke!"

Then he gave it to her, in a long steady stroke, 
penetrating her pussy to the full length of his sex 
bone. His big coconuts full of sex goodies plopped 
warmly against her gyrating bottom. Mavis loved his 
cock buried deep in her body; loved the warm musky odor 
of hard pecker blended with hot pussy.

"Fuck me fast," she begged, squirreling her ass around, 
making her twat gobble his thick cock-sausage. He 
backed his prick out of her cunt and slammed it deep. 
Mavis reeled into a delicious cum, loving the aroma, 
the faint, squish-squish of thick cock plowing into her 
seething sex well.

Her pussy was a boiling liquid fire as Mickey plundered 
her body, driving his wonderful tusk deep into her 
sensitive, ravenous orifice. She knew he was about to 
cum; his plunges were faster and erratic. She could 
feel the pulsations in his shaft as her sphincter 
muscles seemed to twine around his massive meat. 
"Aaaaaaggggghhh!" he cried, slamming the prick to her 
and grinding his belly against hers. She was thrust 
into another violent orgasm as Mickey began jizzing the 
daylights out of her. "Ooooohhhhh, sooooo good!" she 
purred as he continued to flood her snatch with hit 
thick love honey. She loved the way he gave the 
farthest wall of her cunt little pokes with the 
squirting head of his prick.

Suddenly, as her intense, erotic pleasure began to 
subside, she felt something else. It was a tingly 
scratching sensation. Mavis sobered slightly -- and she 
knew. She relaxed, let her heels rest on the small of 
his back. She worked a hand between their sweaty bodies 
so she could use it and her sphincters to milk all of 
his sex juice into her cunt. She squeezed his cock at 
the hairy base. She wanted to feel it as he withdrew. 
She was certain, but she wanted to verify it with her 
fingers.

"That was a real good, hot fuck," Mavis kissed him on 
the parted lips, felt his tongue in her mouth, his 
panting breath of passion ebbing. "A really dandy 
fuck."

She would have liked for him to leave his cock buried 
in her cunt, it felt so good. But she wanted to have 
his big, slick meat in her hand. She would suck it, if 
she had to. She held her breath as he eased his tusk 
out of her body.

Yes! YES! There it was!

She spread her legs wide as he crawled backward so that 
his face was between her thighs. She smiled smugly as 
she lay there, letting him tongue the cum out of her 
pussy. She had found the man.

Mickey Lewis had a wart on the side of his pecker ...


Chapter 15


After Mickey departed, pleased with his sexual 
conquest, Mavis prowled impatiently through the house. 
That smug, self-satisfied expression would be erased 
from his face in a hurry, she thought, after she told 
Phil that she had found the robber-rapist.

Finally, about dark, she settled down in the living 
room, sipping a tall scotch and water and watching 
television. She hadn't liked the brutal screwing he had 
given her during the robbery, but she acknowledged that 
when there was no one else around, there was no 
possible peril, Mickey Lewis could really fuck a girl 
and give her a whole bagful of jollies.

Well, Mickey had betrayed himself, having to have 
another piece of tail. The wart on his dingus had given 
him away. She had had her cock and cunny fun -- and 
Mick was going to get what was coming to him. Mavis 
wished she could talk to Phil, but she didn't know how 
she could reach him. But, hadn't he said he would call? 
She frowned; he had said after he got squared away. 
When would that be? Tomorrow? She would just have to 
wait. Who, she mused, was involved in the robbery with 
Mickey? She just couldn't believe Hank or Willie -- 
certainly not her husband, Phil -- were in cahoots with 
Mick.

She had a hunch that Terry could shed a lot of light on 
the crime that had Phil under such deep suspicion. She 
was almost tempted to call the little sexpot and have 
her come over, but she doubted that Mickey would allow 
it.

She would just have to wait.

Mavis was so anxious to have the whole affair settled, 
she felt that every nerve in her body was sparking. 
Intuitively, she sensed that when it was all over, she 
no longer would be a sex captive of hers and Phil's 
acquaintances. That would be a good feeling! Maybe she 
would confess to her husband that she had been a 
prostitute for a while; she didn't know how he would 
react, but if that terrible secret were wiped out from 
her mind, she would feel relief and a peaceful 
sensation of liberation. Somehow, she felt her husband 
would forgive her that sordid chapter in her life.

The telephone rang sharply and Mavis almost screamed. 
It took nearly a minute for her to compose herself and 
lift the receiver. "Heeeelllloooo?" she said, voice 
just above a whisper.

"This is Phil, baby. I'm at a place called Battle 
Mountain, Nevada. I'll stay the night and head home in 
the morning. I got to Winnemucca and the Nevada state 
police stopped me; my boss asked their help in stopping 
me and telling me to telephone him. The Nevada case has 
been solved and I'm turning around, coming home. I'll 
be there before dark tomorrow."

Mavis was so intensely happy she couldn't reply for 
several seconds.

Then she blurted, "Honey, I know who the robber-rapist 
is!"

"Gggrrrreeeeeaaaatttt!" Phil exclaimed. "Tell me."

Quickly, Mavis told him about her seduction by Mickey 
Lewis, finding the wart on his dong. "And I have a 
feeling that Terry bought this fancy T-Bird with some 
of the robbery money."

She told Phil about Mickey's ordering Terry to take the 
car to Ely, Nevada, store it for her brother. "It isn't 
a Nevada car, honey," she said, "it has Utah license 
plates."

"If I had the plate numbers," Phil said, "I would have 
the ownership traced through the Utah vehicle bureau."

"I don't have or know them, honey," Mavis frowned. Then 
a bold thought crackled into her mind. "Phil, what if I 
could persuade Terry to let me go with her to Ely? You 
could meet us there -- give us a ride home so we 
wouldn't have to take the bus? While we are in Nevada, 
maybe you could get all of the truth out of her?"

After a short pause, Phil replied, "Okay. Sounds good. 
How will I find you in Ely?"

"If I can get Terry to take me along -- I don't think 
she'll be against the idea -- I'll be sure we register 
at a good motel. You just start calling motels until 
you find your oversexed wife!"

"Great, honey! I'll see you tomorrow night?"

After Phil hung up, Mavis looked up the Lewis' number 
and dialed. She didn't have to sell Terry on the plan; 
she jumped at it.

"I was just dreading that drive," Terry said happily.

"And I feel the need to get away from Salt Lake and the 
house for a while," Mavis bubbled. "And it is so 
convenient for us -- with Phil coming home. He said he 
won't mind a bit, the extra miles he will have to drive 
to pick us up."

* * *

They were on their way by six the next morning and 
arrived at their Nevada destination in plenty of time 
to find a motel and look around town, if they wished. 
Mavis' smug satisfaction received a big boost on the 
road. While taking a turn at the wheel, letting Terry 
nap, she found the registration on the sun visor. It 
was Terry's Car!

As they cruised through town, Mavis spotted Phil's 
Buick parked on a side street, around the corner from a 
hotel. Apparently, he arrived before they had. "Let's 
find a motel and get settled," Terry said. "You can 
grab a little rest while I find a place to store my -- 
the car.

What time do you expect Phil?"

Mavis shrugged. "He'll call motels until he locates 
us."

As soon as they were in a motel, Mavis stripped down to 
bra and panties and collapsed on one of the two double 
beds. Terry's eyes turned sex-greedy as she stared at 
Mavis and winked.

"If we thought your hubby would be getting in late," 
Terry said, "we could prowl the town and pick us up a 
couple of well-hung studs for some hot yum-yum fun!"

Mavis smiled back. "I don't think I want Phil to catch 
me -- or us -- with a couple of stallions wearing our 
saddles."

"Probably right," Terry nodded, taking three bottles of 
liquor from one of her suitcases and setting them on a 
dresser.

Mavis watched her find a couple of glasses, strip off 
the cellophane and mix a couple of drinks of whiskey 
and water. "Anyway," Terry said, "I brought my double-
dong along and we can have a romp with it."

Mavis cramped her naked thighs together against the 
pleasurable clutching the thought of the dildo aroused 
in her loins. "If you need a little sexing," Mavis said 
softly, "maybe I'll let Phil give you a little fucking 
when he arrives. He has a very masterful prong and 
really knows how to make a girl's twatty smoke."

"Wheeeeee!" Terry breathed, whirling about the room. "I 
don't know how I'd react, getting diddled while the 
man's wife watched."

"Nothing like finding out," Mavis laughed as Terry 
pranced out the door.

"Don't pick up a stud; come straight back!"

"Right on!" Terry called as she slammed the door.

Phil called about ten minutes after Terry left the 
motel. "I saw Terry drive by the hotel where I'm camped 
out," Phil said.

"I saw your car when we drove through town," Mavis 
said. "She wants a little fucking!" she laughed.

"And I'm a stud-service candidate?" he said.

"I figure you might be able to put the screws on her -- 
I mean screw the truth out of her," Mavis bantered.

"Where will you be while I'm giving her the third 
degree and jacking my handle into her canny?"

"Right here, honey, witnessing every word, guiding your 
prick and holding your wonderful balls up out of the 
hot sand."

"Hot sand? What the hell are you talking about?"

"You don't want your balls getting scorched in hot 
desert sand, do you? I'll hold them for you while you 
fuck the robbery truth out of little Terry."

"If you insist on being present while I fuck the little 
wench, just let my balls dangle," Phil said with mock 
solemnity. "Get her a little tight, if you can."

"I have a feeling that won't be any trouble," Mavis 
replied. "I just hope she doesn't pick up some clown to 
give her a breeding before you have a chance to get at 
her greedy snatch."

"Well, I'm going to park on a side street and stake out 
your motel from across and down the block. I'll wander 
in about an hour after she gets back."

When Terry returned, it was obvious she had sampled the 
liquid wares of at least one of Ely's clubs. She was 
half-loaded, happy -- and her sex appetite was at an 
end-of-Lent intensity. Mavis fairly grinned 
appreciatively as she watched the sexy doll strip out 
of her clothes and parade about the room, showing off 
her saucy breasts, curvy fanny, flat tummy and 
scratching the coarse floss that adorned the inviting 
mound that crowned her pussy.

As they sipped whiskey and water, Terry wheedled, 
"Let's get out the double-dong and fuck each other, 
Mavis?"

"Not right now," Mavis demurred. "Phil called from up 
the road and will be here pretty soon."

"How soon?" Terry pressed. And Mavis studied the 
narrowing of her nostrils, the fire in her eyes and the 
way she fanned her silky thighs in and out, pressing 
them against her sex trove.

"Oh pretty soon," Mavis evaded. "Maybe you should put 
on something."

"Why?" Terry pouted. "If you aren't going to back out 
and let him screw me, why shouldn't I be all ready for 
a jump in the sack?"

"You don't want to seem too eager," Mavis countered. 
"You don't want to startle him."

"Do you think -- if he comes in and sees me all naked 
and ready to fuck -- I might scare him?" Terry giggled 
a little tightly.

Mavis shrugged. "I don't know. I just think it might be 
better if you weren't naked, were wearing something -- 
kind of teasing him into the idea of punching your 
pussy..."

She nodded with approval as Terry gulped the remainder 
of her drink and found a loose-fitting sunsuit in a 
suitcase. "I think it's a big waste of time, putting on 
clothes, when you know all along you're going to get a 
fucking!"

Mavis was surprised -- maybe it was the liquor -- but 
she didn't experience any mental qualms as they talked 
about her husband and his diddling Terry. She, 
actually, was looking forward to seeing Phil thud his 
prick into the dainty Terry's quim.

When Phil knocked and she let him in, Mavis frowned 
slightly. No, a naked Terry wouldn't have scared him 
off. His pants were tented with a swollen cock and 
ready testes. He came ready to fuck.

"Bring in your luggage, honey, and stay the night," 
Mavis said.

"RIGHT!" Terry echoed.

Phil grinned, then returned to his car to get a large 
suitcase and a leather-cased object Mavis knew was a 
cassette tape recorder.

She fixed him a drink, turned and saw him staring at 
Terry's scantily clad body -- and Terry had already 
discovered that Phil was sporting more than half a 
hard-on.

"How was your trip?" the three of them said, almost in 
unison.

"No problem, sweat, okay," they chimed, then smiled 
sheepishly, awkwardly.

There was no doubt about Terry's eagerness to have 
thick, hard cock chunked into her snatch. Her eyes were 
glazed with the animal message -- 

Fuck me! And Mavis could smell the sweet aroma of her 
cunt.

Calculatingly, Mavis took the initiative. "Phil, don't 
cream in your shorts! Terry wants to be screwed, so why 
don't you two strip and diddle?"

You little bitch! Mavis frowned as Terry lurched to her 
feet and shrugged out of her sunsuit. Phil laughed and 
caressed his swollen genitals through his pants with 
the bottom of his frosty glass.

"Where do you want to give it to me, Phil? Where do you 
want to fuck me?"

Mavis frowned. About the same question she had asked 
Mickey after he had gotten her aroused.

"Not in the butt hole," Phil laughed, "in the middle of 
a bed."

"That's what I meant!" Terry snapped, hurling herself 
onto a bed, flopping onto her back and making a sex 
saddle of her thighs, knees far up, feet dangling in 
the air. Mavis stared at her inviting, hairy crotch, 
pinkish inner labia glistening with passion-moisture, 
opening to her vaginal fluttering. Terry's voice turned 
pleading, "You can cornhole me, if you want to; but 
fuck me in the canny, too!"

"Give it to her, Phil! Fill her snatch with prick and 
fuck her!" Mavis urged, desire fluttering through her 
as she anticipated watching her husband ream the young 
woman's vag with his massive tool.

"HURRY, FUCK ME!" Terry wailed, waggling her fingers 
and her fanny at him, begging plaintively.

Mavis sat perfectly still as her husband stood, set his 
glass aside and undressed slowly. Terry gasped and 
Mavis felt slightly jealous as Phil's massive tool was 
uncurled from his clothes and his phallus stiffened and 
lengthened and thickened. She would like to have his 
dick in her -- but he was going to fuck it into Terry 
Lewis!

And she was going to watch her husband fuck the little 
hot-pussied hussy!

Phil seemed to ignore her as he crossed the room and 
eased onto the bed, worked his own naked body between 
Terry's inviting thighs, shuffled forward, his cock 
waggling, toward the woman's sex treasure.

In a minute, Mavis fretted, yet was filled with 
anticipation, her husband would be screwing another 
woman -- right before her eyes. There was a lecherous 
expectancy. She wanted to see Phil drive his cock into 
Terry's cunt, stretch that marvelous vulva out of shape 
and fuck his mammoth meat deep into her fragile body.

Mavis leaned forward to see clearly as Phil hovered 
over Terry, his lips and teeth finding a breast berry. 
"Aaaaaaahhhh!" Terry whimpered, reaching to find Phil's 
throbbing prick, trying to pull it into her steamy 
swat.

Phil closed the distance between their pubic regions 
until the huge, glistening head of his cock soaked in 
her hot groove. "You want it, Terry? You want a good 
fuckin'? Give me the cassette, Mavis," he said all in 
one breath.

Mavis lurched to her feet and placed the instrument 
near the head of the bed, near her husband's right 
hand. She stood for a moment as he opened the case, 
pointed microphone toward Terry's face.

"Yeeeessss! Fuck me, Phil!"

He flipped the switch and Mavis watched the reels move. 
Then she returned to her seat.

Phil moved over Terry's uptilted bottom, let her work 
the huge pear-shaped head just inside her vag.

"Yes! Fuck me!

Phil let the head of his cock soak, just inside her 
wiggling body. "Tell me what you know about the robbery 
of the store that Willie manages," Phil urged softly, 
giving Terry's twat little jabs with just the knob of 
his dong.

"Please fuck me, Phil?"

"We know that Mick was one of the robbers. Tell me 
about the robbery."

He plunged a couple of inches of hard prick into her 
snatch. "Tell me!"

"FUCK ME!" Terry begged, trying to up-hunch her ass to 
get his spear in her.

Phil gave her a couple of fast cock-thrusts. "Tell me."

He rammed the remaining seven inches of his sex sausage 
into her.

"Fuck me!" Terry squalled as Phil withdrew his prick. 
"It was a clever setup. Mick? Yes! He was one! He raped 
Mavis! The beating Willie got was part of the plan -- 
he's involved -- to throw off suspicion."

Mavis watched her husband plow his rock-hard cock back 
into Terry's ravenous snatch. "Hank was against it -- 
but he went along with the guys."

She was panting with passion and starving hunger for 
more of Phil's sex pole. He gave her several long, fast 
pistonings -- she farted loudly as he hit bottom with 
the thick point of his prick.

"Ben Glover was the mastermind," Terry snorted as Phil 
fucked the cock into her. "He cased the whole job -- 
with Willie's help on timing of the guards and the van. 
Hank helped steer the SLC police away from suspecting 
them."

Mavis watched her husband clutch Terry's heaving flanks 
with both hands and pump the prick into her furiously. 
"Where is all of the money?"

"They split it up. It's hidden in everybody's houses! 
Oooooahhhh!

Fuck me, Phil!"

Terry had her toes in her hands, feet hauled back 
parallel with her ears, legs flung wide, taking every 
last inch of Phil's sex meat that he was drumming into 
her.

Mavis knew when Terry was exploded into violent orgasm. 
She screamed like an Indian on the warpath. Her lust 
was unbelievable as she tossed her bare, sweaty ass up 
at Phil to meet his inward plunge. She kept cumming as 
Phil buried his dong deep and began shooting the jizz 
into her sex-soddened cunt.

Even after Phil extracted his long, thick prick from 
her snatch and went to shower, Terry lay there in the 
middle of the bed with her thighs spread wide, 
plundered pussy an almost obscene invitation for more 
fucking.

The solution of the crime had been almost too easy, 
Mavis thought, once the vital key was found. All it 
took was finding the man with the wart on the side of 
his sex root. She wondered how long the case would be 
dragged out; she hoped that she and Phil wouldn't be 
involved for a long period of time.

She frowned at the naked Terry, at the thick lips of 
her pussy that smiled leeringly, at Phil's thick, 
pearly sex cream that oozed from her vag and trickled 
into the crack of her ass.

Mavis shrugged and rose to mix her and Phil another 
drink. "We'll go home in the morning," she murmured, 
studying herself in the mirror above the dresser, 
satisfied with her trim figure that was amply revealed 
by the scanty panties and bra. "Then Phil can get the 
ball rolling with the police and insurance company."

She accepted her husband's ardent kiss when he merged 
naked from the shower. "Why don't you help Terry to a 
shower," he said, "later, I have some more questions I 
want to put to her."

"Why is a shower important?" Mavis pouted.

She frowned at Phil's wide grin.

"I am to use my exclamation point on her again and I 
want a nice, clean, perfumy sentence to punctuate."


Chapter 16


During the night, in the still darkness of the motel, 
Mavis heard her husband working on the passionate 
Terry. The sodden sound of big cock thudding into 
female flesh was loud in the room. The earthy odor of 
male and female sex pervaded the close air.

"Where have the men hidden the money, Terry?" she heard 
Phil pant as he slammed his prick into the whimpering 
Terry's cunt.

"In-in-in their homes. I don't know -- oh, fuck me! 
God, you fuck a girl good!"

"Where in their houses, Terry?" Phil persisted and 
Mavis thought she could actually hear the head of her 
husband's cock banging against the bottom of Terry's 
sex well. "Where did Mickey hide his share of the 
money?"

Squish-squish! Squish-squish!

Mavis could visualize Phil's long post sliding in and 
out of Terry's elastic hole in prodigious strokes.

Plop-plop; plop-plop.

He was really banging her tail, Mavis thought. That is 
the sound of his balls slap-slapping against her 
upturned bottom end.

"...in the attic of the garage..." Terry groaned. "Oh, 
please! Don't talk! Just fuck me! Give me lots and lots 
of your wonderful prick! I'm cumming!" she screamed 
suddenly.

And the quickening complaint of the bed told Mavis that 
Phil was plunging the prick to the small young woman. 
"The others?" Phil grunted as Terry sobbed with erotic 
fulfillment.

Mavis drifted into sleep and was only vaguely aware of 
her husband joining her in bed. Then it was morning and 
Phil awakened her with a long kiss and his fingers 
pinching a nipple.

"Let's get on the road," Phil urged, slapping the 
women's bare bottoms as he urged them from the beds. 
Mavis noted that Terry's eyes were red, there was an 
almost petulant pout on her puffy lips. Phil must have 
kept her awake and fucked her most of the night, she 
thought as she and Terry dressed in silence.

* * *

As they drove into Salt Lake City, Mavis wondered idly 
whether little Becky had gotten her Wednesday screw 
from Willie Quentin yet.

Phil parked downtown and fished a nearly full bottle of 
scotch from a suitcase. Then he steered the two women 
into a club that he and Mavis frequented on nights out. 
While Terry was in the women's lounge, he told Mavis, 
"You two drink setups while I'm gone. I want to see the 
county prosecutor, talk to the SLCPD brass and get my 
boss down here. I'll be back as soon as I can."

He returned in a couple of hours, had a couple of 
drinks with Mavis and Terry. "Let's go home," he said 
and Mavis nodded. Although he was silent, Mavis knew 
him well enough to sense he was pleased and excited.

As he parked the car in the garage, Phil said, "The 
prosecutor obtained arrest and search warrants. Let's 
get inside, have a drink and wait for developments."

As he sloshed scotch into three glasses, he winked at 
Mavis and grinned. "My boss -- right on the spot -- 
said that if this pans out, I have the agency's 
managerial job in Seattle. If we want it."

Mavis' heart jumped and drummed rapidly in her breast. 
"That would be wonderful, honey." Then she frowned. 
"Gad! You mix a strong drink."

"Gotta be strong!" Phil exclaimed. "This may be a 
banner day for the Morans!"

About thirty minutes later, he returned from answering 
the telephone in the den, a smug expression on his 
face. He sat on the arm of Mavis' chair, leaned over 
and whispered, "They found some of the loot at the 
Lewis home; Mick is in custody. Damn! I would like to 
see the expression on Ben Glover's face when they hit 
him!"

Terry had been silent so long that when she did speak, 
Mavis felt she had just walked into the house. 
"Whatever is going to happen?"

Mavis glanced at her husband's satisfied smile. "The 
damned suspicion that has been aimed my way will be 
erased! There's going to be hell to pay in some houses 
around this neighborhood."

A few minutes later, as Mavis was replenishing drinks, 
Miriam Carr rushed through the back door. "God! Phil 
what's going on? Hank and I were having a drink in the 
den and a whole flock of cops from downtown showed up! 
They have a search warrant and they're ransacking the 
house! They arrested Hank!"

Mavis could tell from Miriam's furtive eyes that the 
raid held no mystery. "Want a drink, hon!" she mixed 
one anyway.

"I guess I need one. What the hell is going to happen?"

Mavis glanced at her husband, loved the noncommittal 
way he shrugged.

"Hank has been on this fuckin' force for fourteen 
years! Where do these lousy Salt Lake cops get off, 
arresting him?"

The chimes were sounded from the back door and Phil 
hurried to answer the beckon.

When he returned, he motioned Mavis aside. "Hank is on 
his way downtown to jail; police and insurance 
investigators found more than one-hundred thousand 
bucks in a floor trap under his and Miriam's bar in the 
den. They found about the same amount of money at 
Willie's house, spread under bat insulation in the 
ceiling! They arrested Willie in his office at the 
store. One of the officers said he heard they hauled 
him, cock and all, right out of the saddle of that 
little Becky Samon!"

"They should have let him finish his ride!" Mavis 
smirked.

The back door slammed and Connie Quentin dashed into 
the living room.

"Willie's been arrested!"

"We know," Mavis soothed, mixing her a drink without 
asking if she wanted one; it was obvious she needed 
one.

A short time later, as Mavis was studying Miriam and 
Terry and Connie huddled together on a sofa, the front 
door chimes echoed through the house. Phil opened the 
door and admitted two men from his agency and a 
plainclothes policeman, a detective captain.

"Glover is a riot," the captain said. "We had no 
trouble with him. He was trying to wear out his part of 
the take by counting it over and over. He had more than 
a hundred thou spread out on the kitchen table in neat 
little piles!"

Mavis thought the captain seemed embarrassed, 
apologetic and pleased. He took a straight shot of 
scotch and offered Phil his hand. "Phil," he said 
huskily, "I never wanted to suspect you; you're a 
damned good investigator. I understand from these 
fellows of your agency we're going to lose you to 
Seattle. Are you going to take it?"

"Yes," Mavis responded as Phil started to nod slowly.

"Well, good luck," the captain said, "I better get 
downtown. I have a lot of paperwork to put in order. 
God! What a haul today has been!" Mavis let him out and 
closed the door slowly, silently. She turned as Phil 
slowly unwound. "Fellows," he said softly, "what would 
you like?"

"Jim here," one of the insurance agency representatives 
said, "is transferring in from our Topeka, Kansas, 
office. He's going to need a house. The boss thought 
maybe he could look over yours and buy it -- if you 
take the Seattle promotion."

"Sure, sure," Phil said.

And Mavis peered at him intently as her husband's eyes 
brightened.

"How long has it been since you saw your wife -- what's 
your name?"

"Jim Svenson," he said. "About two months."

"Just a minute, before you look around. I think it 
would be a good idea if you took along a guide and 
chaperone. Mavis and I wouldn't want you to be lonely."

Mavis scowled at her husband. Whom did he have in mind 
to escort a potential house buyer? His implication was 
plain -- and she was the only one who really knew the 
house.

"Okay, ladies," Phil commanded, pointing at Connie and 
Miriam and Terry, "on your feet! And get your clothes 
off! Jim, the bedrooms are at the top of the stairs -- 
make yourself at home."

When the three women hesitated, Phil crossed the room 
and quickly undressed them. They were too stunned to 
protest. "Take your pick -- gentlemen -- you too, Mark 
-- we have the finest hostesses in town."

"You dirty, rotten bastard!" Connie exploded. "We 
won't..."

"Oh, shut up, Con!" Miriam snarled. "We may be going 
someplace where we won't get any decent male twanging 
for a long time; so let's have a good fuck and enjoy 
it! The Swede looks like he could take on two girls -- 
judging from the bulge in his pants! Well, studs, make 
a choice; the odd girl can go with the big galoot from 
Topeka!"

Mavis had no idea how they would pair off as the men 
trudged up the stairs, the three women prancing ahead 
of them. She didn't care.

Suddenly, she felt she no longer was a sex captive. 
"Now, Phil," she teased, "what happens now?"

"Well, we get ten percent of the recovered loot as 
reward -- something over forty thousand dollars; we'll 
go to Seattle..."

"Come on!" she demanded. "I mean right now!"

"Well," he taunted her, exploring her boobies with one 
hand and squeezing her butt with the other, "I think 
I'll strip my wife, lay her out on the floor and have a 
good, choice piece of ass for a change."

"Ooooohhhhhh," Mavis sighed as he slid his long cock 
into her tight cranny. She liked being this kind of sex 
captive. "Ooooohhhhhh! Fuck me, darling..."

The End

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 30