Mona's Pain Lust
by Stan Miller


INTRODUCTION 

It never hit the newspapers, but what happened on that December day in a 
Buffalo, New York department store when a historic white-out tore down power 
lines and smothered snow plows like so many shells on a sandy beach, is 
worth repeating. 

Nobody expected snow, nobody wanted snow on that eighth day after an 
old-fashioned white Christmas, but it came piling in at their doors, an 
uninvited guest, raising havoc with transportation, ruining holiday plans, 
and causing a pandemonium unequaled in Buffalo. 

So bizarre were the events that followed, it might have passed for a 
psychological test designed by some wacky human behaviorist, for what 
happens when fifty-some strangers find themselves snowbound in a department 
store turned into a hotel with no doors, is 

somewhere bordering on hysterical. 

Of the stranded storm victims, Mona Bradley, a spoiled, bouncy, 
five-foot-two buxom blonde, with a coconut tan, fresh from Jamaican beaches, 
could tell the story best, for it was her vain frivolousness that prompted 
her demise and shameful infidelities, too scandalous for this introduction. 

The Publisher 


Chapter One 

Officially the season was only eight days past the winter solstice, but 
already Buffalo, New York had twice made national news with its Arctic 
white-outs, twelve foot drifts swept high by fifty mile per hour winds and 
chill factors dipping to a brisk sixty degrees below zero. The city's 
citizens, outraged by a second assaulting year of frigid days and sub-zero 
nights, clenched their fists angrily at the pregnant skies and then fell 
into a helpless, post-Christmas catatonic state of immobility. 

The city streets resembled a dump yard with ditched cars angled over 
sidewalks, their wind-blown shiny hoods sticking up out of their white 
burial mounds like so many graveyard markers. One couldn't venture past the 
porch steps without losing a muffler, a hat, or a mitten. 

Only a few of the more adventurous breed braved the knee-high snow and 
functioned as normally as possible, reminding themselves of the torpid 
summer of months past. Amongst this daring lot was Mona Bradley, wiping 
vapor from the windshield to clear a spot of precious visibility for her 
husband Orin who clutched the steering wheel, squinting to see through the 
blanket of falling snow to the parking lot entrance to Joseph's Department 
Store. 

"Honey, I'd give my new pink chiffon dress to be back in Jamaica lying on 
the beach and soaking up that delicious sun." Mona, a buxom blonde with 
honey curls as bouncy as Farrah Fawcett's, shivered in her patchwork rabbit 
fur jacket and ran a warm gloved hand over her husband's hard thigh. She 
loved Orin to the bottom of her soul and appreciated the honesty of their 
relationship. Never had he cheated on her, and Mona wouldn't think of 
looking desirously at another man... though a little flirting now and then 
never hurt anybody. On this solid ground they'd lived in marital bliss for 
four years, taking a yearly vacation, usually in winter because Mona hated 
snow and loved bikinis... especially the tiny string kind. Four days ago 
they'd returned from a ten day holiday in Jamaica. 

Tanned as wheat and proud of it, Mona Bradley licked the softness of her 
glossy pink lips and glanced up into her husband's smoothly shaven face, 
admiring his unharried expression and snickering at his sunburned, peeling 
nose. She'd told him to use sunblock, but Orin did things in his own 
natural, slow-motion exactness. Like driving across town in this Arctic 
blast without sliding into a ditch... and for the skimpy purpose of 
indulging his wife's vanities. 

And he was good to his 'bunny' and pleased her in every way possible... or 
tried to. Sure, some nights his performance in bed would make Don Juan 
wince, but sex was merely the frosting of love and, armed with that moot 
truism, he did his best... but by God, sometimes the woman was insatiable! 

"Not much time before the store closes, Bunny," Orin turned off the ignition 
and frowned at the infinitely stormy skies. "Are you sure they sell 
sunlamps!"' His rubber-soled hunting boots crunched on the newly fallen snow 
like jaws working on a mouthful of peanuts. 

"Of course they do! Oh, they have to! I'll just die if my tan fades before 
the New Year's Eve party." Mona's blonde curls bounced girlishly as she 
slammed her car door shut. "This is a thousand dollar tan, hon. Think of it 
as an investment." 

Under the brim of his knit cap, Orin's expression faded grimly. To refuse 
Mona anything made him feel impotent and it took so little to put a smile on 
that pouty, full-lipped mouth of hers... but this spending had to cease. The 
filling station was still in the red from last year's crippling snow storms, 
compounded by the gas shortage the year before. He still owed the State Bank 
of Buffalo for the thousand dollar tan that Mona sported like a new mink 
coat. 

Mona slipped her arm through his. "Don't worry about the money, darling. 
I'll just open a charge account." 

Orin gulped, turned ashen and it wasn't from the reflection of the snow now 
ankle deep and fresh and fluffy. "Orin, honey...? Are you feeling okay?" 

Mona's black mascara caked eye lashes fluttered over her high, tanned 
cheekbones. Like April sunshine glaring on winter's snow, Orin melted every 
time he gazed into his wife's beautiful face. Her satin smooth tan, the 
color of a newborn fawn, accentuating her limpid turquoise eyes that cast 
him a helpless, baby-innocent look that sparked straight toward his manhood 
and made it stand up at attention! His hand ran over the fuzzy fur of her 
rabbit jacket, marveling at the perfect covering for his wife's soft, lush 
full-bosomed beauty. 

The automatic department store doors swooped open and blasted them with warm 
air. Pulling off her leather gloves, Mona unzipped her fur jacket, letting 
the juicy melons of her ripe breasts jut out from beneath the red turtle 
neck sweater beneath. 

"Honey, I know our checking account is down to a goose egg, so I'll just run 
up to the credit department and fill out an application for a charge card." 

Obediently, Orin plucked his beanie from his brown matted-down curls, thrust 
his chilly hands into his overcoat pockets and sauntered idly about the 
first floor while his wife's voluptuously cupped buttocks, hugged snugly in 
black wool pants, disappeared up the escalator, heading for the fourth 
floor. Orin hated shopping and something about the nakedly sheer negligees 
clinging to white marble manikin legs, piles of lacy, ribboned bikini 
panties folded up on tables and the flimsy French brassieres that could 
cover only the nipples of a woman's milky breasts gave him the jitters. In 
the midst of a provocative day-dream of Mona prancing about in a flouncy 
bottomed peignoir, the color of nude flesh, a voice broke through. 

"Ain't exactly shopping weather, is it?" the uniformed guard grinned, one 
foot braced upon the sand-filled tray by the door. "Just about everybody's 
gone home for the day. By God, I think you might be one of the few customers 
left in the store." 

"Oh" Orin's kind blue eyes blinked. Hell of a fix that would be... snowbound 
in a department store. 

"Don't know if any of us'll get outta here if she don't stop." The armed 
guard flicked a cigarette out of his pack, offering one to Orin who refused, 
and lit it, stared out the glass doors at the solid white sheet which 
seemingly had no beginning and no end. 

Orin, not one for idle conversation, contemplated the snow, accumulating 
thick as the devil's transgressions outside in the parking lot where a dozen 
or so cars, caked with snow, sat deserted as toys in a wet sandbox. 
Nervously he pawed his knit cap, casting furtive glances over the jewelry 
counter toward the empty escalator. Orin had a lot to be jittery about. If 
the business office telephoned his bank for credit verification, Mona would 
find out he'd borrowed the money for the vacation and she'd feel guilty for 
insisting on Jamaica when Florida would have been cheaper. 

 * * * * * 

 Except for a few stragglers picking over albums in the record department 
and a couple browsing over the furniture sale, Mona noticed the lack of 
shoppers and fearful of the store closing, she bolted toward the credit 
department. 

"Yes, may I help you?" a rather dry voice greeted. At one glimpse of the 
out-of-season tanned face and sleek, generous figure, the somber black eyes 
that belonged to it lit up a long face topped with a receding hairline. 
Something about this brown-suited man reminded Mona of Uriah Heep, that 
horrid Dickens' character. 

"I've come to fill out a credit application." She flashed him a melting 
grin. 

His long cigarette-stained fingernails groveled around on his messy desk and 
handed her a form. "Fill this out, please." 

The credit manager's hawkish woman-hungry eyes bored into Mona's firm red 
mountains peeking out from the deep valley of her opened jacket, his thin 
nose twitching like a hungry rabbit, and his beady eyes all but burned holes 
in her jersey, trying to make out the dim penciled outline of her puffy 
nipples jutting out from beneath the fine lace brassiere that supported 
their creamy burden. 

Mona's lush buttocks flattened as she sat down on the chair and filled out 
the application. With the tip of her pink tongue peeking out between even 
teeth, she signed it in her generous scroll, exaggerating the M in Mona, and 
handed it to the credit manager. 

"I'll have to call the bank first and verify your credit rating." While Nick 
Harrington picked up the telephone, Mona toyed with her diamond wedding 
ring. Her heart fluttered when he rested the silent receiver back on the 
cradle. 

"Sorry... no answer at the bank. Why don't you come back on Monday and 
we'll..." 

Mona bit her lip and wailed. "I can't come back later. It'll be too late by 
then! Ohhhh!" she whimpered. "A check..." Her turquoise eyes pleaded. Let me 
write you a check." 

Nick Harrington rested back in his chair, twirling his thumbs, shaking his 
head sternly. "Store policy... no checks without bank authorization." 

Spidery eyelashes fluttered over Mona's high cheekbones, spotted needlessly 
with rouge. Casting him a flirtatious grin, she leaned far over the desk, 
the weight of her bosom resting two inches from the credit manager's 
sweating palm. "I'll do anything... Mr...." She strained to read his store 
employee badge. "...Mr. Harrington... Nick... You see, I just got back from 
Jamaica and I have to get a sun lamp to keep up..." she said in a throaty 
voice. 

Nick pooched out his livery lips and shook his head in a show of authority. 
Below the desk his penis jerked and he pressed it down with the heel of his 
palm. His monotone voice failed to show his excitement. "Do you have a part 
time job?" 

Mona sat voluptuously straight. "I... I sell Avon products... how silly of 
me to forget. I guess I depend too much on my husband." Mona blushed at her 
lie... but she had delivered products once last summer for her neighbor away 
on vacation. 

With an impatient grin, Nick Harrington marked a box on Mona's application. 
"Name of employer?" His black, shallow eyes reminded Mona of her pet canary. 

"Avon..." 

"Your supervisor, I mean." 

"Supervisor...? Well, uh... Gosh, I... Sara Woodward." The name came to her 
from the lotion bottles on the sale table downstairs next to the escalator. 
"Telephone 762-1937." 

Mona Bradley was hardly the criminal type, and certainly had no intentions 
of incriminating herself, but she had to have that sun lamp before her 
bronze tan turned to a dull splotchy peel! Orin's old girl friend Karen 
Tucker would be swishing around at the New Year's Eve party in her long 
chiffon dress and beehive hair-do and it would make her mouth water with 
jealousy to see Mona sauntering in brown as a coconut fresh from Jamaica! 

Her spirits fell with the snow outside the windowless office and she gulped 
with difficulty as the cunning credit manager dialed the number. His 
conversation with Jackson Plumbing Company was curt. Eyebrows raised, he set 
the receiver back on the cradle. After thirteen years of working in the 
credit department, he could pick a lie from the truth like fuzz from a black 
sweater, and this woman who was bursting out of hers was one conniving lady! 

"Mrs. Bradley, there is no Sara Woodward at that number." His voice, dry as 
day old toast, was buttered with accusations. "You don't work for Avon, do 
you?" 

The wrinkles on his forehead where hair once grew, smoothed, while his penis 
grew satin tight in the cotton cage of his boxer shorts. The wily 
woman-monger enunciated his threat casually. "You are guilty of fraud. Do 
you have any idea what this could do to your husband's credit rating?" He 
nonchalantly plucked the application from the desk, gave it a cursory 
inspection, and tossed it down. "He could lose his filling station..." 

Her response was hysterical... somewhere in between laughter and crying... 
and it bubbled from her chest in a nervous titter. "Oh, oh, oh my God!" Two 
wheat-tanned hands flew to her mouth. "Please believe me... I didn't mean to 
get Orin in trouble... I oh God, I'll do anything if you won't report me. 
You can hold anything I have as collateral... anything!" 

Ten nervous fingers fumbled through her wallet looking for the credit cards 
before she remembered Orin had them. Desperately, she started twisting off 
her diamond wedding ring that hadn't slipped off her finger since Orin had 
put it there four years past. 

Fear blazed in her brain as she helplessly watched the smirking credit 
manager lift the receiver and dial zero. 

"Police, please." His eyes were leveled on hers. 

"Lord, what are you doing?" 

Nick cast her a sinister grin. "Calling the police department. Fraud is 
against the law, you know. You signed this application and blatantly lied." 
Licking his beefy lips, he let the receiver dangle from his hand and drew in 
a deep breath. "Of course there are other ways of settling the matter." From 
the tips of her honey curls to the diamond chips of her spiking nipples, 
Nick Harrington's lust gleaming orbs examined the merchandise of Mona 
Bradley's lushly enticing body. 

"I'll do anything... just don't involve poor Orin in this mess!" she 
whimpered, her button chin quivering. 

"Anything, lady?" Nick's bushy eyebrows raised suggestively, wrinkling his 
naked forehead. "Well... ah, in that case!" 

Wolf whistles and sexual taunts were second nature to Mona, who stood up, 
exaggerating her posture, making the mounds of her breasts grow to Mount 
McKinley heights, pursed her lips, dumped her wallet back into her purse and 
snapped it shut with finality. 

"Really, Mr. Harrington... I'll report you to your supervisor." Her nose 
wrinkled up in disgust. "What do you take me for? I'm a happily married 
woman." 

Nick Harrington took her affront personally. Bolting to his feet, he pounded 
his fist on the desk and turned livid. "I'll have you arrested if you step 
foot out of this office!" 

 Chapter Two 

Downstairs on the first floor of Joseph's Department Store, Orin Bradley's 
patience had withered to a toothpick. Where was Mona? One by one, he watched 
angry shoppers stomp defeatedly back into the department store, shake their 
heads disgruntledly and brush the snow from their shoulders. 

"God damn, son-of-a-bitch!" sputtered a salesman ,blowing his frost-bitten 
dripping nose after spending fifteen minutes shoveling out his car only to 
have it slide into the culvert bordering the department store. "There ain't 
no way in hell I'm gonna get home, and my wife's gonna bitch at me for 
playing around on her. That's just great!" 

"Yeah, Chester, I don't know why in hell they didn't close the store this 
morning." The armed guard rested his hands on the heavy leather gun holster 
hugging his hips while empathetic eyes surveyed the nefariously frozen 
fairyland of the Joseph's Department Store parking lot. "Nothin' short of an 
army tank's gonna get us outta here." Pushing back his hat, he scratched his 
head. 

Orin Bradley let out an angry whimper and cast his eyes toward the 
escalator, contemplating searching for his wife in the playland maze of the 
store and dragging her home while they could still get there... sunlamp or 
no sunlamp! 

 * * * * * 

 Up on the fourth floor, vacated save for a few faithful employees, Nick 
Harrington bolted the door of the furniture storage room stacked high with 
the mattresses still in plastic wrappers. The delivery men were off due to 
inclement weather and with no customers to wait on, what salesman would 
venture there, he rationalized to himself with a lewd snicker. Often before, 
he'd used this room as a cheap motel room when a tear-faced customer 
couldn't pay her bill and was threatened with bill collectors. Worked fine 
every time. Why not with this dumb blonde bomb-shell sitting sprawled out 
atop a Seeley Posturpedic mattress looking like the helpless prey of a wily 
fox! 

A shiver of dread snaked up Mona's spine, feeling like a wild animal must 
when the steel jaws of the trap are sprung and snap down painfully on a 
tender paw. How could she have been so ignorant and selfish as to jeopardize 
Orin's filling station for the sake of a silly suntan! Oh, the follies of 
vanity! 

"You're quite a woman, Mona," Nick murmured, stretching out on the crinkly 
mattress next to her, his hands creeping up to caress Mona's wool-covered 
thighs and easing up to the waist band to unzip the metallic trap guarding 
her femininity. She didn't help him when he slithered the tight skinny pants 
down over her hips and pulled them off her slender legs. His cold fingers 
snaked up her smooth flesh as his gently massaging hand caressed her creamy 
skin. If not for the sake of her marriage, at least for her dignity, she had 
to try one last plea. "Please...? Can't we forget it. I didn't buy anything! 
I didn't steal!" Her turquoise eyes turned a watery blue. 

He eyed her luscious gullibility and almost imperceptibly, her thighs, tan 
as creamy coffee, slid apart involuntarily, the feeling of helpless defeat 
overwhelming. Confidently, Nicks hand scouted the way. His hand was suddenly 
at its destination, there on the warmly throbbing mound of her femininity, 
his fingers searching along the flimsy nylon panties that just barely 
covered her warmly moistened pubic slit. Slowly, his boney outstretched 
middle slipped in under the elastic legband and, before her fevered mind 
registered the moment, he was caressing the already blood-swollen lips of 
her wetly 

pulsating pussy. The sexy feel of her warm, young sex-flesh, the softness of 
her sparse, golden pubic curls tickling his exploring fingers inflamed Nick 
with an urgency to follow his fingers with the hardness of his massively 
erect cock. 

"Ohhhh... don't touch me there! Nobody but Orin ever touches me there!" 
whimpered Mona, sitting stoically still except for splaying her thighs 
slightly a little more, as his fingers turned her into a morass of 
sensations. She was getting hot... against her will. The sensitive nerve 
endings of her responding cunt were signaling a readiness to be 
titillated... and satisfied, and she wanted neither. Not with this horrid 
man! 

She would submit to him for Orin's sake... to save his filling station and 
their marriage... but that didn't mean she would enjoy it. And oh, God, his 
halitosis breath bathing her neck was making her hair curl! It'll be over 
with in a few minutes. A tiny moan escaped her lips. "Oh, please, Mr. 
Harrington... d-don't...!" 

He was leaning over her, ready to kiss her with his beefy lips, red and 
chapped. "Nick's the name..." he grated and kissed her hard, pressuring his 
pointed tongue through her wetly parted lips to stab probingly into her hot 
mouth as his arm snaked around her trim waist to crush her voluptuously 
trembling body close to his. Below, his fingers played at the moistened 
mouth of her hotly throbbing cuntal split, dipping just inside her furry 
pussy lips with sensuous insistence, then moving upward under her nylon 
panties to find the oily pink marble of her clitoris. 

For such a scrawny man, Nick Harrington was strong, and Mona was thinking 
just that when she moaned up into his mouth as his extended middle finger 
made contact with her sensitive little nerve bud, and her hips moved under 
her in a writhing, but futile attempt to escape his tantalizing fingering. 

Ohhh... it felt so delicious! Why didn't Orin tease her like that instead of 
rolling her over, sticking his penis in and finishing himself off after a 
few grunts. 

Adultery, hot fudge sundaes, and her fading tan couldn't get Mona's mind off 
the teasing brushings along the hot length of her clitoris where sparks 
seemed to fly! In a few more gyrations, her writhing hips were thrusting up 
with a fevered urgency against his pencil-thin finger. Mona stiffened. What 
am I doing, acting like a slut? I'm acting like I really want him to do it 
to me, just like when Orin gets me all worked up! Oh, God, I'm ready to 
cheat on Orin! That, she had never intended on doing. 

As Mona's body went rigid, Harrington pulled his head back, breaking the 
kiss, and looked down into her face quizzically. 

What's the matter now?" 

"Oh, I can't cheat on my husband!" 

"Your hot little cunt, or the filling station!" snarled Nick emphatically. 
"Anyway... he wouldn't pass up the chance for a good screw... and you know 
it!" He gave her pussy a hard jab that made her mouth drop open. "Now, get 
those clothes off so we can get out of here before the damned store closes!" 

Leadenly, Mona undressed. Turning her back to him, she pulled her sweater up 
over her head and tossed it aside. As she reached back to unclasp her 
brassiere, she felt Harrington's clawish hands already there unhooking it. 
Leaning forward, she shed the brassiere, letting the fullness of her creamy 
breasts pop free, her nipples puckering at their first breath of fresh air. 

Nick's hands, itchily grasping for their pliant softness, groped around her 
from behind, squeezing and kneading their satiny warmth like so much bread 
dough. As he dug his fingers into her mammary flesh, the coned-out, 
berry-like nipples spiked out hard against the palms of his hands. Mona 
tolerated his brutal caresses as he mashed her breasts with the hardness of 
his hands, while his chapped lips kissed the baby softness of her neck nape, 
causing indescribable tingling sensations to flash through her aroused body. 
Below, in the small of her tanned back, he felt the huge, warmly throbbing 
bulge of his penis pressing up tight against her back, seeping pre-cum 
smearing it on her naked flesh from the eye of his blood-engorged cock. 

"Oh, Oooohhhh..." she whimpered, unable to control herself. It was this way 
with Orin too. God, just the feel of a man's strength next to her frail, 
feminine body made her collapse in a mass of goosebumped, aroused flesh. 
Half an hour ago she would have punched somebody in the nose, had they 
suggested she would cheat on Orin... and she would have torn their eyes out 
if they'd dared intimate she would enjoy the feel of another man's hands on 
her naked flesh! 

"Jesus, what a tan! I'd love to see you in the bikini!" He licked his lips, 
gazing down at the brown border of her tanned back that dipped well below 
the cleft of her round, tight buttocks. 

Mona's shoulders quivered in helpless desire. Steeling herself, she resigned 
her body to its fate and told herself she wouldn't become emotionally 
involved with this horrid man. Somehow... I've got to get it over with... 
before Orin comes looking for me! 

Lithely writhing from his grasp, Mona stripped off her dampened panties and 
lay down on the bed, her thighs spread obscenely. Looking up at her credit 
manager with a feigned expression of boredom, she said; "H-Here I am. Let's 
get this over with." Inside her bosomy chest, her heart pounded with an 
impatience that tingled all the way down to her marbly clitoris. 

With a lewd snicker, Harrington began pulling off his own clothes. "By the 
time I'm finished fucking you, you'll want more. I know your type. I could 
tell you were lying." 

I'll be lucky if he's got anything down there between those skinny legs, 
winced Mona to herself, wondering how such a tall beanpole of a man could be 
virile. He's probably got a twig for manhood! She heard the sigh of cloth on 
skin, and knew he had stepped out of his trousers. Opening one turquoise 
eye, she saw him remove his shorts, releasing his twig that looked more like 
a log! My God! He's so big! Her eyes jeweled in surprise. Nick caught her 
look and chortled gloatingly. 

"Admiring my cock, heh?" He reached down and flapped its hardness at her. 
"Big as Orin's?" 

"N-No! You're a child compared to my husband!" she lied. 

"Oh, is that so? Well, flop over on your belly, bitch and let's give this 
child some sex education." Nick sat down on the edge of the stone-hard 
mattress and reached out for the trembling blonde who'd obediently changed 
her position, his fingers tracing the outlines of her shivering alluring 
contours lightly drawing them down over her back and across the swelling, 
softly pliant moons of her lush, plumply rounded buttocks; down over the 
tapered thighs he moved, allowing them to drift back up the soft, satin-like 
flesh of her bronze inner thighs to the twin protuberances of her smooth 
untanned bottom, where he paused to knead and caress the warmth of her 
lotion-soft flesh. His fingers, gentle and light the instant before, were 
now hard and brutal as they dug deliriously in hard to leave red welts on 
her alabaster ass cheeks as if to brand her. 

Again she moaned, partly in pain and undeniably, too, because of the hot 
passion sparking through her body. "Why d-don't you just go ahead and do it 
to m-me! I won't tell anybody that you raped me!" 

"Raped you? You're here because you wanted to be here." 

"No... no, I'm not!" she wailed down into the plastic wrapped mattress that 
felt devilishly cold against her fevered skin. 

"Well see..." His voice had modulated, a little softer now, as he continued. 
"What kind of man would I be if I didn't oblige a woman who wants to be 
fucked?" 

His reasoning escaped her for the time being. God! How she wished this 
ordeal was over with. Over and over, she promised herself she wouldn't sign 
any more papers without Orin there to justify it. And afterwards...? How 
could life ever be the same again? Certainly she could never shop at 
Joseph's again... and they had such fine sales, too! 

Suddenly, the snaky feel of his moistly warm lips were on her neck kissing 
her, his tantalizing tongue tracing down along her spine, as he crouched 
nakedly over her, his stone-hard penis spearing out from the wiry patch of 
his pubic hair. His mouth and tongue were caressing the satiny skin of her 
cream-white buttocks, sending tiny chills of sensual anticipation flashing 
along her nerve endings, telegraphing obscene messages to her pussy below. 
On downward along the softly smooth taper of her thighs, to the backs of her 
knees, the curve of her calves and her ankles, he kissed and licked like a 
mother cat cleaning her kittens. On the return trip, his tongue paid homage 
to the inside of her thighs as he levered them further apart. 

High-voltage sensations rippled through her as Harrington's teasing tongue 
burrowed deep into the dark mystery of the crevice between her buttocks, the 
curling tip of his tongue licking at the tiny, puckering opening of her 
anus. Mona shivered and recoiled involuntarily as the new and surprisingly 
erotic sensations shimmered like desert heat devils through the core of her 
being. 

Then, his mouth was gone from that sensitive spot and roving upward again; 
finally, after what seemed like eons, he was back at the nape of her neck. 
Now, it was in her ears, where his agile tongue licked all around the rim, 
then tantalized the hole with its pointed, teasing tip. 

Shuddering with lurid excitement, Mona's blood-red fingertips clawed at the 
plastic wrapper that was her sheet, wadding it up in crinkly balls in the 
palms of her 

sweating fists. Everything seemed to concentrate there in that hotly 
throbbing hole up between her legs, and then radiate outward to her belly, 
her breasts, her arms and legs. Even on the smooth skin of her back his 
moist kisses lingered. 

Oh, he's driving me bananas! Orin never did that to me... oh, God, he's 
making me want him... and he's such an ugly, disgusting man! 

"You can turn over now, Mona! I want to see if the front is as yummy as the 
back!" 

Complying, Mona flipped over on the noisy mattress, thinking: Maybe he'll do 
it now! Fervently, she wished that... wanting this torment to end. 

 * * * * * 

 Downstairs, Orin Bradley blew his nose and rubbed his hands, trying to get 
the feeling back in them after a shivering trip to the parking lot to see if 
his blue Toyota had found itself a home in the white snowdrift of parking 
area E. His fears, well founded, pounded in his ears along with the pain of 
frostbite. 

 * * * * * 

 Four stories up in the mattress warehouse, Nick Harrington crooned over 
Mona's naked body, his tongue darting across the tip of a distended, coral 
pink nipple, his hotly salivating mouth widening to take in the whole of it, 
including the goose-bumped areola between his hungrily sucking lips. His 
other bony hand stroked the swollen fullness of the other breast, cupping 
and massaging the tanned, white-patched mound of whipped cream flesh, 
kneading it hard as his thumb and forefinger teasingly rolled the painfully 
puckered, berry-like nipple. 

The rampaging erotic shock of his touch made Mona mewl deep in her chest, 
shamefully realizing that she wanted this strange man's rock hard penis 
fucking 

pell-mell into her seeping cunt. And he hasn't even touched me down there! 
Hard on the heels of this crushing self-knowledge came a devastating 
thought: God! I'll be an adulteress... not because he raped me, but because 
I wanted it! Lord forgive me, but I want him to fuck me until I'm 
knock-kneed... the way my husband should, but doesn't! 

Now Nick's demoralizing tongue was trailing with tantalizing slowness down 
across the flat white plane of her belly, stopping momentarily to screw 
flickingly into the shallow jewel of her navel; then, as his slobbering 
mouth tickled the sparse, golden blonde curls of her pubic thatch, Mona's 
body lurched. He's going to kiss my vagina! 

Orin had never tried using his mouth on his luscious wife down there between 
her legs; certain Mona would disapprove of such vulgar lovemaking. God! She 
clamped her desire-trembling legs tight together to deny Nick entrance 
there, but unexpectedly then, she felt him leapfrog downward to her thighs. 
As his moist kisses worked slowly back up toward her warmly quivering pussy, 
it was his hand that probed, his outstretched middle finger insinuating into 
the soft, hair-lined crease at the top and pressuring downward until he 
discovered the hidden bud of her clitoris throbbing in wild anticipation. 
Lightly, he brushed the tip of his pointed finger over it, petting it, 
stroking it, feeling it harden under the soft pressure of his finger. The 
nakedly crouching credit manager grunted with satisfaction as he felt her 
tightly clenched thighs relax ever so slightly. 

It occurred to Mona that she ought to say something to cut through the ugly 
sounds of his slobbering tongue licking over her body, but her will and 
volition had melted like April ice. The mass of erotic sensations 
overburdening her nervous system took charge mutinously and the aroused 
young wife couldn't keep her legs, guarding the succulent pink treasure of 
her womb, tightly pressed together. With a sinking feeling, Mona realized 
this virtual stranger had stolen command of her body. 

With a grunt, Harrington's nearly bald head dropped down between her 
erotically shivering thighs, while his hands worked at her knees, spreading 
and raising them so that her vagina was an open door to him. For a hungry 
instant, his gloating eyes devoured the delicious groveling feast before 
him; the pink petals of her vagina with the blonde furry coat glistening 
with her cuntal juices. It was almost like breaching a succulent shellfish 
to get at the goodies inside. With a suddenness too swift to follow, his 
hungry wet mouth clamped over her desire-ridden cunt. 

"Oooohhhh... God! You can't... do that!" Mona's lust constricted voice 
bubbled off into a loud kittenish mewl of pleasure as his wetly licking 
tongue invaded her impatiently pulsating pussy. 

Nick's tongue probed for a moment until he found her erect, pulsating 
clitoris and began to lick at it while his nostrils flared from the perfumy 
headiness of her cunt, driving him insane with desire, making his hairless 
head blush with desire. 

"Like that, huh?" he gloated listening to her agonized moans as he took the 
bud of her clitoris between his lips and sucking on its short, hardened 
length for a few seconds before shifting positions again. Now he held the 
hard little pink clitoris between his teeth, while his tongue played a 
drumming beat directly on the sensitive head. 

Mona was insane from the delicious torture! "Oh, Nick... don't... do that! 
You're driving me crazy!" 

Instinctively, she knew this cruel man wouldn't stop his tormentive licking 
until she was a quivering mass of mindlessly aroused desire. Her vision was 
beginning to swim and her ears chimed with a lustful, heavenly beat. Her 
only thought was a shocking one: to get this man's thick cock churning deep 
up inside of her, fucking its hot throbbing way into the deepest depths of 
her wildly impatient cunt! God... when would he do it? 

Just at the point where Mona was certain she would scream if he didn't stop 
his taunting, Nick shifted his salivating mouth downward, and his tongue 
slithered into the moistness of her crying cuntal mouth. She did scream 
then, as she felt him wetly stabbing his snaking tongue in and out of her 
fevered pussy. Her nakedly aroused cunt ground up into his sucking mouth as 
she struggled to match the fucking tempo of his tongue into that cock-hungry 
hole up between her frantically trembling thighs. 

His head buried in the searing muskiness of her cunt, Harrington heard her 
loud whimpering mewls of pleasure as he swirled his velvety tongue around 
inside her bearded, desire-swollen cuntal mouth. He could feel the silky 
curls of her blonde pubic hair tickling his shaven cheeks. But he would wait 
her out. The hot little bitch is ready to climb the walls! 

Reaching down, he pulled her long tapering legs up higher and slid his arms 
under them so that his shoulders wedged her thighs open wide. Draping her 
legs over his shoulders, he slid his hands under her softly rounded 
buttocks, his fingers digging cruelly into them and bruising the tender 
flesh when he pulled the twin moons up close and hard to his sensuously 
slavering mouth. His mouth fused to her genitals as if they'd been born that 
way! 

Gnashing her teeth and grunting, Mona's red lacquered fingertips reached 
down to Nick's head, grabbing a tight hold to the few strands of hair they 
found there and pulled him in harder against her. She'd turned into an 
animal, lost and mindless in the heat of the season... sex, sensuality, 
sensation... and the damnable need for orgasm was her world. 

"Oh, Ooohhh, Oooohhh, My Gooodddd! Do-do it to me! Now, oh, God, p1ease do 
it to me now! She moaned in agonized frustration. 

Nick Harrington's head raised from her steaming pussy and his mouth, 
dripping and glistening with her female juices, opened into a lecherous 
grin. 

"Oh, don't look at me like that!" quivered Mona. "Just do it to me and get 
it over with!" She closed her eyes to blot out the gloating leer of his 
triumph over her. "You animal!" she spat suddenly. 

"Hey, if that's your attitude, I'll stop right now and let you finger-fuck 
yourself," he grated at her. 

True to his word, Nick kept his threat as he crawled off the plastic-wrapped 
mattress and stood nakedly glaring down at her, his long massive purpled 
erection spearing out, a drop of pre-cum pearling at the tip. With an 
ugly-lipped smile, he wagged his cock at her and stroked it with one hand, 
petting it. "This is what you want, isn't it! You want to feel this little 
beauty fucking in and out of your cunt until you cum!" 

Mona felt a great fear of being abandoned on the brink of what she knew 
would be one of her most intensely powerful orgasms ever. "Ohhh, don't tease 
me!" Her trembling hands reached down to her own screamingly aroused cunt 
and she slipped a long nailed finger into the seeping pink groove to find 
the oily nub of her clitoris, giving it a few polishing strokes as her naked 
hips gyrated wildly and her breath came in loud, spasming rasps. Her 
turquoise eyes glazed insanely as she clawed animalishly at her searing 
cunt. For that instant in time, she was sure she was all cunt... a hotly 
throbbing cunt that needed a long hard cock to peg up her seeping hole! 

Mona grew frantic, almost delirious with the need to cum. It was no good, 
she knew dimly, to continue her masturbation, as her eyes focused then 
locked onto the huge shaft of meaty male flesh that Harrington held in his 
hand, using it as a carrot before the horse. 

With a loud groan, Mona pulled her tanned legs up, her knees almost to her 
bosom and splayed her thighs as wide as they would go, exposing the whole of 
her pink, glistening pussy to him, as her hips ground uncontrollably under 
her in the lewd rhythm of intercourse. With lust-trembling hands, she 
reached down with her red fingertips and slowly parted the petals of her 
swollen pink pussy lips far apart in an unmistakable, obscene invitation to 
the gloating credit manager. 

From the depths of her humiliation, she begged him, "For Godsakes, Nick! 
F-fuck me! Fuck me before I lose my mind!" Good, kind Orin, her fading 
suntan, and a falsified credit application were all forgotten in one wild, 
screaming demand for release! 

Satisfied with his domination over the blonde bimbo and her humiliating 
display and endeavors, Harrington crawled up onto the bed and kneeled over 
her, an arrogant smile of ultimate triumph on his chapped, reddened lips. 
"Good! Now give me a few instructions and my cock will be happy to 
accommodate the lady!" 

His sadistically cruel smile told her explicitness was his demand. She 
choked, swallowing her hot saliva as her mind reviewed the four-letter 
obscenities that were like branding irons searing their impressions into her 
brain. 

"I-I want you to... to f-fuck me... with your c-cock...!" she mumbled, 
feeling her cheeks blush with shame. 

"Where?" 

"In my c-cunt..." 

"Okay, and how?" goaded Harrington. 

"Oh, dear Lord, as hard as you can!" 

That didn't satisfy Nick Harrington. "Damn it, say it all at once, so I get 
the message." 

Like a prisoner tied to a public whipping post, Mona groaned out; "You're 
tormenting me!" 

"I don't want any doubts in your mind! You're the one begging me to fuck 
you... Isn't that right?" 

"Yes, oh, God, anything you say!" Tears of frustration pooled in her aqua 
eyes. "Please, Nick, fuck me... in my cunt!" 

He wedged his hips down between her widespread thighs, the head of his 
achingly pounding cock nestling down into the blonde-furred openness of her 
dripping pussy lips. 

"Okay, if you want it, stick it in yourself!" 

The guillotine blade of guilt snapped on her psyche, and Mona let out a 
soul-searing wail. "Oooohhh Gawdddd!" Reaching down, her tiny hand only 
partially encircled the girth of Nick's hot penis, and with deliberate care, 
she slipped it between the seeping lips of her cunt. 

Holding himself above her, Harrington flexed his hips slightly and forced 
his bulbous cock head inch by tormentive inch into the elastic opening of 
her hungering, moistly ready cunt. 

Flat on her back beneath him, Mona's mouth fell with the realization that 
his cock head would stretch her vagina beyond endurance, that he would rip 
her apart. She tensed in fear, the stretching pressure straining her flesh 
like a criminal tied on medieval rack. 

"Ooooaaaggghhh! You're too big!" 

"Damn it, would you quit being so nervous?" 

"Oh, please, I can't stand it!" 

Her tortured eyes begged him for mercy, but, through her tears, she noticed 
his sadistic pleasure as inch by heated inch, his cock bored into her wetly 
cringing cunt, until suddenly with a satisfied gasp, he rammed forward into 
her tightly resisting pussy with the force of a stallion. 

Mona screamed again, the stacked up mattresses absorbing her cries. 

"Take it out, pleeeze!" She would be forever stretched and Lord, what if 
Orin noticed she wasn't as tight as she used to be? 

"Hell, no... I just got it in!" he countered, as his bludgeoning length 
pummeled into her, pushing the moistly warm walls of her velvety cuntal 
lining before it until, with a resounding smack, his sperm-heavy balls 
slapped up against the smooth white cheeks of her nakedly upturned buttocks. 

He lay immobile for a moment before flexing his throbbing cock deep up 
inside the hugging walls of her cunt, his hips grinding to gouge his penis a 
fraction of an inch deeper into her tight cunt. 

Soon, the delicious sensual feelings, earlier masked by his painful 
entrance, came flooding back on her and her moaning mewls of pain were 
gradually replaced with gurgles of unequivocal pleasure. 

Nick began a grinding motion (something Orin had never done) swinging his 
hips from side to side in circles, boring his cock head deeper into the 
darkness of her womb. Stretched and relaxed, her cuntal walls gushed with 
happy juices, feeding the fire of her wild naked loins that gyrated, ground 
and undulated under her tormentor. 

The signals were there: it was time to really fuck her. So help me, God, I'm 
gonna fuck her till I squirt it out her fucking throat! 

The credit manager raised himself on hands and knees above her squirming 
body to get the most powerful leverage possible and began to rock backward 
and forward using short, smooth strokes that gradually lengthened and 
deepened with increasing speed. He felt the wetly clinging inner tissue of 
her cunt squeezing around the entire length of his rock hard cock as if to 
strangle it. God, she's got a tight cunt! 

As for Mona, her surrender was complete and unconditional. Deep in her loins 
the summer heat lightning of lust flashed from nerve ending to nerve ending 
in almost endless ecstasy of sensation, and grounding in the close, moist 
tightness of her cuntal sheath. She responded to this stranger in a way she 
never expected... and truthfully, though fate be damned... never had Orin 
ever filled her cunt so deliciously. Wriggling under him, she welcomed every 
body jarring thrust with a bucking counterstroke of 

her own, fucking him back with all the strength of her hot little 
five-foot-two body. Sweat dribbled from her forehead to dampen the kinky 
blonde curls tickling her forehead and a pool of perspiration was 
accumulating in the heated valley of her cleavage. 

Nick dropped his wet mouth to hers, capturing her lust-parched lips between 
his thirst quenching ones and she lashed her tongue deep into his throat to 
be sucked, thrusting it in and out to the tempo of his hard boring cock 
ramming in and out of her raging pussy below. Moaning up into his face, 
willing to accept anything and everything he would give her, she slid her 
lubricated cunt up and down the thick fucking length of his cock. Her lovely 
face distorted with lustful animality, eyes glazed unseeingly, nostrils 
flaring wide as her breath came in loud rasping pants, she was lost to 
everything but the lurid sexual dance they performed as they fucked each 
other with everything they had. 

As many times as she'd lain beneath her husband Orin, she hadn't known the 
true ecstasy of the fulfilled woman until this instant when a stranger 
fucked her like she'd never been fucked before, against her will, against 
her better judgment... almost raping her. With Orin, she faked her orgasms 
with a lurch at the right moment, a groan and a grunt; she had given him 
pleasure, but received none in return. Now her female curiosity was peaked 
to the exploding point. 

"Fuck me hard, Nick!" gasped Mona, feeling the heartbeat of her cunt pound 
throughout her body in a drumbeat of lust. "Harder! Oh Gawd, fuck me 
harder!" She knew her words would titillate him, and let him know she was 
loving every moment of it. "Oh, like thaaaat! Deeeep! Oh Gawd, deeeeper!" 

Nick Harrington's blood-fed penis gored into Mona's slippery-wet pussy and 
without a second thought, he slid a hand over the smooth skin of her 
gyrating buttocks, feeling the muscles rippling below the softness of her 
warm naked flesh, until his probing finger found her tightly puckered little 
anus. Dipping the tip of his bony finger into the hot juice that dribbled in 
copious dewdrops from her cunt, he lubricated the digit and aimed the tip 
against the rubbery softness of her nether ring. As he touched the button 
for the first time, Mona stiffened and rasped hot breath into his ear. 

Gouging into her tight little sphincter, he panted. "Now, lady, I'm gonna 
shove my finger up your asshole!" 

Though the image of his face was dimmed, Mona knew that was exactly what her 
body had been crying for. His telling her was a further incitement... like 
an ancient aphrodisiac. Delirious rapture swept over her and she wanted to 
be hurt too... to be able to feel everything, to scream in masochistic 
ecstasy. To scream was only normal when you were being raped... wasn't it? 
Of what need was pride? 

"Yes! Oh, God! Shove your finger up my ass!" she strangled out. 

Harrington pushed hard and his finger popped inside the warm sponginess of 
her puckering rectum until the palm of his hand slapped against her 
buttocks. Mona screamed hoarsely as his finger wormed slitheringly in past 
the resisting ring of elastic muscle 

that stretched with rubberband ease. Nick, who considered himself quite an 
expert in the field of anal novelties, instinctively knew this was a virgin 
asshole that his finger was exploring, and the knowledge caused him to gasp 
with the possibilities for her next time.. 

And there will be a next time... she's not off the hook yet. Somehow, 
somewhere our paths will cross, especially if I pull this fraud rap! 

Mona hadn't known before now, that pain and pleasure could mix and, even 
now, as the bittersweet agony pressured inside her rectum, she felt her 
muscles adjusting to the painful presence of his middle finger. She grunted 
and groaned, twisted and wriggled, straining to absorb both his finger and 
penis at the same time into her insanely demanding loins. 

Now, Nick's finger moved in concert with the purple log of his cock, and he 
could feel the extra bulge his finger made in the thin tissues separating 
her two pelvic passages. The increased pressure and friction was 
concentrated along the extremely sensitive under side of his aching penis, 
increasing the delicious stranglehold on his cock. Christ, I'll be cumming 
in a few seconds if I keep this up! 

Beneath him, Mona, now a sweating mass of baby soft flesh ground her seeping 
pussy up and down his nearly exploding cock with fury, her legs jerking, 
toes curling and hips nakedly gyrating as though she were trying to get 
ahold of Nick's cock and pull it out by the roots. 

Harrington felt the searing, acid burn of his impending ejaculation back 
there behind the swelling of his loaded balls, and he jerked his finger from 
her tightly sucking anus with a moist, popping hiss. 

Using both hands, he roughly pressed her knees back to her ballooning tits, 
cruelly mashing her plump breasts flat to her ribcage like a pair of fat 
hamburger patties. He could see that her quivering, breasts were sprinkled 
with the glistening sweat-drops of her passion as he fucked his brutal penis 
into her sucking, syrupy-wet pussy with bestial fury, boring into her 
aching, pussy like a hydraulic forging hammer. 

"Give me all of your cock, Nick!" she groaned. "Fuck me...! Oh! Oh, Gawwwdd! 
Fuck me! FUCK ME!" Her innocent baby face was contorted into a wanton mask 
of passion as she struggled to make that one final step into orgasm, only 
seconds away. 

Nick thrust and plunged, caught up in an ecstatic jackhammering rhythm as he 
levered himself powerfully against her soft flesh. Her shapely body was bent 
over doubled, with her arms and legs imprisoned by the straining muscles of 
his powerful arms. He had never known a woman who could take all of his 
loggish cock like this, who could stand up to his full onslaught and 
continue to ask for more. 

In a cold shiver, Mona convulsed beneath him. It started in her crinkled 
nipples and shot straight out to her tiny finger tips and down to curl under 
her polished toenails. The electrical circuit of orgasm bolted down to her 
tingling clitoral bud and shot up to her cervix, where her cuntal muscles 
clasped Nick's penis in a hammerlock hold. The blonde housewife was 
rocketing to heights where time and space were meaningless approximations 
and for a second she was one with infinity... until she opened her eyes to 
stare woefully up into Nick's smug, snarling face as he slammed his molten 
spear deeper into her frantically nibbling cunt in his own selfish drive for 
release. 

Dreamlike, she heard her own voice but didn't recognize its unnatural 
earthiness. 

"Ohhhh! God help me... I'm... I'm, cummmming!" she squealed. 

Harrington felt the rhythmic tremors of her pink wet bear trap squeezing his 
exploding penis, and with a final effort, he pounded into her, plumbing her 
wetly throbbing vagina until his cock nearly doubled over at the end. 

"Ohhhhh..." His moan sounded like air escaping from a punctured tire as his 
scalding sperm hosed through the blood swollen length of his ejaculating 
cock with satisfying force, splashing deep up into her milking young womb, 
as it spurted from the tiny slit in its madly pulsing head. 

"Gawd damn, Mona, that sweet cunt is pumping me dry!" Then, with a groan, 
his body folded, collapsing on top of her, while below the final dregs of 
his hot semen still 

spurt from his cock in lessening spasms of throbbing sensation. 

Quiet reigned in the Joseph's Department Store mattress warehouse except for 
the rasp of breathing slowing to a human pace. Finally, after long moments 
of communion, still stickily linked together by his deflating penis, Mona 
stirred exhaustedly under him. "Well, Mr. Harrington, you got what you 
wanted, now let me up!" 

A self-effacing cloud of guilt was settling over her psyche, and she wanted 
to be alone with her own recriminations and guilty conscience. Poor Orin... 
waiting so patiently for me... Lord, how can I face him now? She knew she 
would just die... absolutely wither up and die if she lost him! "Let me up, 
please, so I can get cleaned up!" 

Harrington snickered sinisterly. "You aren't off the hook yet, lady. I've 
still got the signed application to a fraud." 

"I paid dearly for that stupid mistake!" Mona flared. 

"That was only for starters. I figure you owe me at least five more romps in 
the sack before I tear up that card!" 

"Oh, God! Oh, God no! NO!" Frantically, squirming, she struggled to free 
herself of his dead weight. "No, you're not going to get your scummy hands 
on me again! Oh, no!" 

 Chapter Three 

In the fourth floor employees' lounge Mona bolted the door and, slipping out 
of her black wool pants and soiled panties, ran a basin full of hot water, 
crinkled up a crisp paper towel, dampened it and mopped around the swollen 
fur-lined lips of her vagina, scrubbing away all the male essence of her 
adultery. Then, worriedly, she checked to make certain her IUD was still 
securely in place. To have intercourse with a strange man against her will 
was bad enough, but to get pregnant by him, that would be nothing short of a 
Shakespearean tragedy. 

Gazing at her own reflection, she used a red lacquered fingertip to wipe 
away the black clown-like smudges of mascara under her eyes. Deep down in 
the secret corner of her heart, Mona knew she was a willing adulteress. In 
this age of frivolous, musical-chairs sexuality, hers was hardly headline 
news, but the fact that she'd reveled in it was. And all for the sake of a 
silly sunlamp! Oh, I'll never be that vain again... I promise, dear Lord! 

To sweeten her foully defiled body, she dabbed perfume on the wheat-tanned 
smoothness of her inner thighs and stripped to the waist then, splashing 
cold water on the swollen welts branded on her breasts by Nick's kneading 
fingers. Baptized back to purity, she went to find her husband. 

The escalator smoothed its descending path to the first floor, setting a 
weak-kneed Mona at her husband's feet where he leaned against the jewelry 
counter, a picture of composure. His patient blue eyes that usually asked no 
questions and expected no lies 

seemed to be asking something very specific. 

"Darling... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I'm sorry I'm l-late, but I had the 
worst time trying to find somebody to wait on me, and the credit manager... 
well, I didn't get the sunlamp!" She rolled her turquoise eyes at him and 
pooched out her pink-glossed lips in the way that always drove Orin crazy. 

He didn't say much. Mona slipped her arm under his, ready to go home to a 
hot bath and a cup of tea. "Look, Bunny, there's no way we're gonna get home 
tonight in this snowstorm!" His gloved finger pointed to the sheet of snow 
falling thick and fluffy as the rain of ivory flakes dumped into a washing 
machine. Accustomed to having her own way, Mona withered at the sight of 
weather-beaten customers crowding in front of the door, standing in a puddle 
of muddy water dribbling from their boots. 

"What-what are we going to do, Orin? I want to go home!" she wailed, her 
chin quivering like an animated button. "I've got to get out of here!" She 
covered her face with her hands and whimpered. 

"Now don't get hysterical, honey. We'll have to patient and wait 'til it 
stops," reasoned Orin in his mellifluous, lullaby voice, casting her a 
quizzical sideways glance that asked more questions than she cared to 
answer. 

God, he knows! I'm in trouble. I can tell from that glint in his eye. Mona 
shivered, not from the cold, but from the lingering snaky feel of the credit 
managers bony hands on her naked body. 

Then it sounded, like the voice of God overhead: 

The loudspeakers crackled and broke the strains of innocuous hi-fi music 
filtering throughout the store. "Ladies and gentlemen, Joseph's Department 
Store is now officially closed to business. We regret to inform you that due 
to weather conditions, we recommend no one attempt to drive home. Store 
departments will open to all stranded employees and customers. Complimentary 
dinner will be served in the Green Leaf Tea Room between seven and nine 
o'clock. Please stand by for further information..." The gusty male voice 
clicked off and Montovani's orchestra took his place. 

"Oh, Orny!" Mona gasped and bit at her clenched fist. What are we going to 
do? We'll miss that party and, and..." Her voice was muffled by Orin's 
sweater where she'd buried her face. 

Snowbound in a department store with a man who'd sworn to violate her again 
or charge her with fraud, causing Orin to lose his business-his life's 
blood! "Oh, Orin!" She sobbed. 

Any fears of being alone in this damnable predicament were dispelled when a 
beehive of buzzing voices and tromping feet made Mona pull her face from 
Orin's lamb's wool sweater, and raise her eyes in incredulity as down the 
escalator tromped a horde of disgruntled, frowning humanity. Employees, 
hidden away in windowless offices and corner departments, blasted the 
store's lack of concern. Why weren't we told earlier? The common complaint 
rippled through the crowd. Straight from the fitting rooms half-dressed 
customers in stocking feet and crisp clothes fresh from the hangers nodded 
in agreement. Anger and perplexity rose from the mob in a grey aura of 
disgust. 

At least there's safety in numbers, thought Mona. Nick Harrington won't have 
a snowball's chance in hell of getting his filthy hands on me with all these 
people around. Or would he...? 

 * * * * * 

 Upstairs in the sealed off privacy of the inner business office, the head 
manager of Joseph's Department Store poured himself a shot of whiskey before 
taking care of personal matters. 

"You mean that foxy looking tanned blonde bimbo with the big boobs that was 
just in the office applying for credit?" Hugh Murphy rumbled from deep in 
his barrel chest, his pale grey eyes watching hungrily as Blanche 
Harrington, his secretary, leaned over to pick up the wisp of nylon panties 
she had just shed. Naked now, her curvy, voluptuous body was revealed to him 
in all its ripely mature beauty. "The one I said looked like a stripper?" 

"Yes, that's the one," affirmed Blanche. "He couldn't wait to tell me every 
little detail about how got her in the mattress warehouse. Boy, sometimes I 
think he's just trying to make me quit my job here." 

It was precisely Nick's philandering that had driven Blanche into Hugh's 
arms and ultimately to his bed. One year ago she had known Hugh only as her 
husband's boss. Then one day she'd happened into his office to be greeted by 
a tear-faced secretary who in a fit of anger dumped her belongings in a box 
and tromped out the door with Hugh waving his fists after her. Hugh offered 
Blanche the job, considering her svelte qualifications, and they became 
close working partners. 

Somewhat foolishly, Blanche had let the subject her husband's infidelities 
slip into the conversation. Hugh had listened attentively and soothed her 
with a drink or two, and before she knew what was happening, she was in his 
private office, adjacent to his business office, the very room in which she 
was now taking off her clothes in willing anticipation. This room contained 
no desk, but it did have a well-stocked bar, stereo and video machine from 
which he could watch the activities of his employees... including those of 
unsuspecting customers in the department fitting rooms! 

The couch was an easily convertible bed with a soft mattress... the best 
Joseph's furniture department had to offer... and it made the change from 
seductive coaxing, to sexual congress an easy one. Wily-minded Hugh 
convinced her of the one true way of evening the score with Nick, until at 
this point, she was well ahead in the race for infidelity. 

Blanche looked down at his burly bulk as he lay out full length, naked on 
his bed, remembering how repulsive she thought his hairy body was when she 
had lain there nearly petrified with fear that first time as he brought her 
to searing arousal and ultimately to an earth-shaking climax. Now, she knew 
every square inch of his body as well as his filing system. Unconsciously, 
her eyes drifted up to his craggy face, clean shaven and smooth as his bald 
head. Her eyes locked onto the rock hard massiveness of his erect penis 
which stood up like a mighty obelisk spearing out of the dense brush of his 
graying pubic hair. From his private papers she'd learned his age was 
fifty-eight, though he hadn't slowed down sexually one pace. He was married, 
too, to a dark haired beauty 

named Sondra who represented his third (or fourth?) attempt at matrimony. If 
there were other women in Hugh's life, she didn't know and knew better than 
to probe. Hugh had made that point clear... forceful so, but she guessed he 
probably did bring other women into this room. Of course she'd never know: 
the man was tight-lipped and secretive, and perhaps that aura of secrecy 
surrounding him kept her coming back to his bed. 

"Did you say her name was Mona Bradley?" Hugh queried, taking Blanche into 
his bearish arms as came to the bed and crawled up on top of him, lowering 
her mouth to his and accepting his slithering tongue into the sweetness of 
her mouth while at the same she spread her thighs, then clamped them tightly 
as she captured the jackstaff of his pulsating cock in the fleshy trap 
between them. It lay hard and throbbing up against the naked pink flesh of 
her bedewed pussy. 

"That's what her credit application said," she mumbled into his mouth as he 
flexed his hips, rubbing the thick base of his heated cock on the throbbing, 
vibrant shaft of her fully awakened clitoris. 

Blanche felt the tingling tickle of his extremely hairy chest against the 
sensitive buds of her erect little nipples, and she moved them in a short 
repeated arc, back and forth across his chest, reveling in the 
tantalization. Before she had begun the affair with her 

boss, she hadn't known that her breasts were so sensitive. 

Hugh's paw-like hands roamed caressingly up and down her back, paying 
special attention to the round, protruding globes of her pliantly soft and 
smooth buttocks as he cupped them up, then pinched and massaged them, making 
ridges of her silky flesh ooze like white butter through his strong fingers. 
He felt her ripely naked loins undulating counteringly, as she began to 
slide her moistly naked cunt up and down the rock hard shaft of his cock. 

Breaking the deep kiss, he rumbled in his deep bass voice; "You can go down 
on me this time, doll..." 

"Ohhh, goood!" she breathed, agreeing instantly and giving him a bright 
smile. What she had learned in the months since she had been working here in 
Hugh's office, was that her willingness, her efforts to please him, had a 
direct effect upon her and Nick's standard of living. Hugh wasn't a cheap 
employer and raises came easily... if one followed the unspoken rules. Yet 
to this day, Blanche failed to decipher what her husband had ever done to 
warrant a raise. 

She slithered nakedly down over him, pausing for a moment to lick and suck 
at each of his tiny nipples, burrowing down through the thick hair fuzzing 
his chest to get at them. Blanche knew of his secret fetish, so she bore the 
intense tickling his kinky chest hair produced on her lips and nose. It was 
a small favor in return for the complete satisfaction he gave her each time 
they fucked. 

Hugh moaned his satisfaction with her as she knelt subserviently-her heavily 
ripened breasts swaying like fruit ready to be plucked-between his 
wide-spread legs. In one hand she held the lust-thickened shaft of his 
purple veined cock, while the other reached under to caress his hairy, 
sperm-laden balls. In spite of the erotic pleasure her feathered touch 
brought him, Hugh's mind was on other matters. Changes of which, Blanche was 
ignorant, were in the offing. 

At the last board of directors meeting, he'd strongly recommended that Nick 
Harrington be considered for their new store opening in Fairbanks, Alaska, 
and it looked certain he would be transferred. In a way, Hugh hated to 
promote Harrington out of state, for certainly Blanche would follow. But 
hell... gotta tend to business! 

Nakedly kneeling below him, Blanche had sucked one of his egg-sized 
testicles into her soft warm mouth and was gently laving it with her velvety 
tongue. His hands went down to her jet-black hair to smooth and caress her. 
In the next few moments, she had likewise sucked on his other sperm-filled 
ball. The feel of her hot mouth working down there between his legs gave him 
a whole series of erotic sensations. Then, she was licking him, her tongue 
flicking back along the sensitive flesh behind his scrotum until she was 
moistly nudging her tongue tip into the sensitive, puckered ring of her 
anus. He moaned and writhed under the electric charge of it, groaning. "God, 
Baby... that's it! Damned nice!" His wildly aching cock throbbed and lurched 
involuntarily... and after a minute, he gasped: "That's enough, Blanche." 

His hands on her head pulled her wetly probing tongue away, then he guided 
her hungrily open mouth toward the bloated purple head of his pulsating 
cock. Her smoke-grey eyes bored up at him sexily as she murmured, "That must 
have given you a charge!" 

"You know damned well it did! My cock yelled for attention!" 

"Mmmmmmm!" she mumbled unintelligibly as her sensuous lips ovaled and slowly 
slid down over the heatedly pulsing head of his penis, her wet little tongue 
instantly beginning to swirl around the smooth, satiny flesh. One hand held 
the long thick shaft, while her other caressed his scrotal sac, scratching 
lightly with her sharp fingernails. Every now and then, she slid her middle 
finger back and under a little farther to press against the saliva-moistened 
flesh of his anus. All these tricks were things that Hugh 

Murphy had taught her... small details that were a large part of her job 
description as his private secretary. 

The audacity of lying there naked on top of the top man in Joseph's 
Department Store while his wife Sondra browsed through the racks of 
designer-made dresses down on second excited Blanche Harrington to lustful 
heights and, with renewed vigor, she licked at her boss's purpled knobbed 
cock as if it were heaven-sent nectar. Soon his cum would be hosing into her 
mouth, and obediently she would gulp it down, then lick him clean. 

Often, she wondered how Sondra would react were she cognizant of Blanche's 
dedication to her employer. And, that matter, how would she, Blanche, 
respond if Hugh would refuse her admittance to his private office in favor 
of another woman's body. 

After one year of faithful service to the bearish man, wasn't it time she 
found out? 

 Chapter Four 

With people tromping over the onyx polished linoleum, huddled up in 
overcoats and sweaters, the Green Leaf Tea Room resembled more a shelter for 
hungry war-time refugees than it did a lady's luncheonette. Pink carnations 
in crystal bud vases topping the deep green gold-threaded tablecloths 
presented an ironic picture of propriety next to the groveling freeloaders 
taking advantage of the complimentary meal from the high priced delicatessen 
that most post-holiday bargain shoppers couldn't afford to frequent. Hungry 
jaws snapped like bear traps over cold chicken, smoked ham and rare roast 
beef, and in the free-for-all, one hefty grey haired lady elbowed her way to 
the front of the line and piled her plate high with crab legs, despite a 
barrage of four-letter invectives. The couch-minded, like the Bradley's 
ended up with a plate of soggy macaroni salad and a dry roll. 

Outside the glass doors, the snow piled high and deep and throughout the 
store the crackle of prerecorded hi-fi music was interrupted now and then 
for local weather-reports, all disheartening as a toothache in the face of a 
hot fudge sundae. 

Like drunken robots, the fifty some snowbound victims sauntered mindlessly 
around the department store, pacing from one department to the next in slow, 
time-consuming gaits. Some of the bargain-hunting females carried on like 
two-year-olds in Santa's workshops, sampling expensive French perfumes and 
trying on clothes either too expensive, too sheer for their sagging figures 
or too small. More than one seam ripped in a darkened fitting room as a size 
fourteen bosom slithered into a size seven gown in a ripping tug that popped 
buttons and tore egos. Others contented themselves in the television 
department watching the news from a seven foot high Advent screen, while 
across the floor in the stereo department, the younger s breed drowned out 
the TV with a combative disco beat turned up to volume ten on Slipshorn 
speakers. A shouting match sparked between the rivals until the teenage 
rogues stomped off down to the cafeteria and liquor department to see what 
trouble they could find there. 

By midnight, most of the marauding shoppers had run out of curiosity and 
steam and the mad scramble for a place to call home began. Those with 
foresight plundered the bedding department earlier in the evening and headed 
on up to the furniture floor to bed down for the first night of mayhem, 
contentedly kicking off muddy boots and snuggling under satin sheets and 
coverlets, price tags dangling. The wiliest victims had scouted out portable 
colored television sets and vintage wine from the "Vino Gardens" in the 
basement and settled in for a relaxing evening of gratis accommodations. A 
few unmated stragglers monopolized king-sized beds in hopes of luring a cold 
and lonely body into warm and wanting arms. But this first night everyone 
was defensive as a mouse in a foxhole, and friendly acquaintances were rare 
as July snow. 

The store had metamorphasised into a hotel with no doors and the Bradley's, 
who'd found a quiet corner in the children's furniture department, snuggled 
up like two spoons in the clown sheeted bed. Still wearing his long woolen 
underwear, Orin cuddled his stripped-down wife under the covers. 

Mona's whimpering sobs were soothed by Orin's hand stroking her smooth 
forehead and, for one tremulous moment, she considered spilling everything 
to her compassionate husband and throwing herself on his mercy. If he can 
find any in his heart for me... after I've confessed. The terrifying threat 
that Orin's agreeable temperament might reach its tolerance point and cause 
him to dump her for jeopardizing his business for a stupid sunlamp stopped 
her; no man was expected to endure such selfishness from his lifemate. With 
a paralyzing, almost pathological fear, she remained painfully tight-lipped 
and reticent. 

While Orin's snores rattled the pine bedstead, Mona's mind churned on. Over 
and over she reran today's episode, searching for the one factor that could 
set her free of Nick Harrington's evil threats. That damned application card 
was Joseph's Department Store's sole proof of her fraudulence. Thank God, 
she hadn't bought anything and charged it to her new account! She slept 
fitfully and awakened to the sound of eternally shuffling feet browsing 
boringly about the store. 

Breakfast, again gratis of the Green Leaf Tea Room, still stacked with dirty 
dishes from last night's smorgasbord, was a solemn affair. Most of the 
stranded shoppers hadn't slept well, if at all, and a few who'd slipped down 
to the liquor department for a party sat nursing hangovers over day-old, 
reheated coffee. Glum and depressed over the negative weather report muffled 
through the twice-amplified speakers, a sniffle and blowing noses sounded 
ominously in the morbid crowd. Tomorrow night was New Year's Eve, a night 
for drinking and making merry with the one you love... not with a department 
store full of depressed strangers. 

"The Buffalo Fire Department Rescue Squad reports that five people have been 
unearthed from their stranded vehicle west of here. These five deaths bring 
the total casualties to eleven. We advise no one to leave his shelter unless 
under dire emergency. Winds are whipping at forty-eight miles per hour, 
drifting snow obscuring visibility to zero..." 

Dan, the armed guard sitting at Mona and Orin's table, grunted in disgust 
and shook his head. "Hell of a fix this is! My girl ain't never gonna 
believe why I didn't show up for New Year's Eve!" 

Orin crunched on a dry breakfast roll, winced, and dipped it into his 
day-old reheated coffee. "Give her call." 

"You kidding? Telephone lines are down. We're stuck here till the good Lord 
decides to shovel us out." 

Mona gulped and turned snow white. 

 * * * * * 

 After breakfast, Mona left Dan and Orin to their gin rummy while she headed 
for the ladies room behind the lingerie department. "Frozen pipes... toilets 
out of order," read a sign posted to the bathroom door. Oh, that's just 
dandy! Now I have to go up to the fourth floor to the employees lounge. She 
shivered as if snake had crawled up her spine. Fears about crossing the 
credit manager's path and him making a lewd remark about their romp in the 
mattress warehouse prompted Mona to shake her head when Orin insist he come 
along. Still... was it her imagination, or was that a look of suspicion when 
she left Orin after the first hand of cards? 

Enroute, she passed by the wig department and donned a long, straight black 
one-something she'd always wanted to try. Being blonde was fun, but a change 
did the heart good. The bangs curtained her satin forehead, grazing her 
turquoise eyes, Cleopatra-like. She congratulated herself, confident of her 
disguise, but absent-mindedly forgetting the out-of-season tan that stood 
out like the proverbial sore thumb. 

The black-wigged blonde stepped coltishly past the furniture department 
where giggled lovemaking bubbled from a brass bedstead behind a lineup of 
dressers. Out of the corner of her eyes, Mona caught a naked nipple spiking 
out from a bosomy chest. Good God, is this what it's going to come to? 
Everybody doing nasty things with strangers? Mona tutted and pressed on 
toward the fourth floor where she finished her duties in the chilly 
bathroom, her attention split between the luscious effect of her raven wig 
and the credit card application sitting temptingly on Nick Harrington's 
desk, not more than one hundred feet away. 

Knowing she'd caused enough turmoil from deceit, Mona tip-toed past the 
business office, determined to get off the cursed fourth floor before the 
curtains of hell descended on her once more. But the temptation at finding 
the door ajar flooded her better senses with foolish hope and she peeked 
inside at the cluttered desk, knowing her application card was amongst the 
litter. Holding her breath and walking on polished tip-toes, she snuck over 
the orange shag carpeting toward the desk. Her tiny hands fluttered over the 
mess, shuffling papers and scrambling for the card that would put an end to 
this foolishness. 

She found it! Heaven is on my side! She rejoiced, closing her eyes and 
offering up a thanks to the Almighty, she pressed it to her chest. A gusty 
snarl curled her lips instantly and she'd made a half inch rip in it when a 
voice bellowing from in back of her, made her blood run cold as the icicles 
dripping from the department store eaves. 

"Find what you're looking for?" a dry voice rattled. Terrorized by the evil 
sound of familiarity, Mona's clenched fist flew to her quivering mouth and 
the card fluttered from her helpless hands and floated away to the carpet 
several feet away, caught like a dry leaf on the breeze. 

"Are you surprised to see me, Mona? Honestly, I didn't think you were that 
anxious." The same shallow black, canary eyes that horrified her yesterday 
froze her to the hot orange carpet in the few seconds they bored into her 
from bosom to bangs. 

"Mona? Why ever are you calling me Mona?" her voice drawled dramatically 
into a southern accent, as sweet as blooming magnolias, one she'd learned 
from a high school Tennessee Williams play. She charmed him with her lullaby 
voice, but the effect was weak at best. He grabbed her by the sleeve halfway 
through the door. 

"Don't play games with me, bitch!" His beady e sparked with malice. "Nobody 
else around here's got a tan in December... you think I'm stupid, don't you? 
Hot with anger and intimated insults, his balding head turned red as a 
polished apple. He grabbed her wig, tore it off, and stomped on it. "Really, 
Mrs. Bradley, you're only getting yourself in more hot water. The head 
honcho wants to see you about that phony application... and with thievery 
too," he tutted tauntingly. "Come on," he snarled through stained teeth and 
stale tobacco breath. 

The credit manager dragged the kicking and spitting blonde through his 
office and into the adjacent chambers marked with Hugh Murphy's name plaque, 
then dumped her into a chair next to the secretary's desk. 

In his plush inner office, Hugh Murphy sat hulkishly in his leather swivel 
chair, feeling a bit guilty for not alerting customers and employees to the 
severity of the snow storm and hoping to hell there were no lawsuits because 
of it... but hell, he'd been too busy 'dictating' to Blanche to think about 
the weather. Then, too, the matter of finding another secretary, one as 
'qualified' as Blanche was once Nick was transferred, laid heavily on his 
mind. 

Open-minded, loyal, and submissive women like Blanche were as rare as black 
pearls. Slowly, a lewd grin suffused his head at the tromping, stumbling 
sound of Mona Bradley bursting into Blanche's office being escorted, or 
rather dragged, by Murphy's womanizing credit manager. 

"Hello, Mrs. Bradley. I hear you've caused quite a stir," A tight, secretive 
smile bordering on an outright smirk curled Blanche Harrington's sensuous 
lips as she watched Mona struggling to compose herself. The woman's frankly 
appraising look bothered Mona intensely and she shifted uncomfortably, her 
eyes searching out every nook and cranny in the room like a trapped animal. 
Perhaps she could have been thankful that she couldn't read the secretary's 
mind just then. Mona's attention shifted to the lean figure frisking past 
her, heading for Murphy's office... no doubt to brief him on the charges 
against Mona Bradley 

Mona's mind frothed with indecision; she hadn't the slightest idea of how to 
defend her fraudulence. Several possibilities whirled confusingly through 
her mind, but in the end, she knew the truth must suffice. Above all, she 
would plead with this Mr. Murphy not to press charges... or to tell Orin. 
Anything but tell Orin! 

As the few minutes stretched to an eternity, Murphy's voice rumbled from the 
intercom summoning Mona into his presence. To Mona's ears he sounded like 
the wrath of God on Judgment Day. 

Nick Harrington lounged smirkingly at ease in a chair while Hugh Murphy 
stood behind his mahogany desk, pale blue eyes boldly sweeping over her 
contours as he courteously nodded to her to be seated. Relaxing a bit, 
lulled into a false security by his friendliness, didn't last very long. 
Hugh came to the point bluntly. "You've been dishonest in filling out a 
credit application, Mrs. Bradley!" 

Mona struggled to explain... offered to forget the application and never 
shop at Joseph's again, but after a lengthy discourse, she saw that all of 
her imploring arguments were met with implacable negatives and she burst 
into tears with a final; "Then... I... I just don't know what to do! But I 
don't want Orin, m-my husband to find out what I've done!" 

Hugh told her then: "There is one solution." He scratched his bald head, 
leaving claw marks. "I will be needing another secretary soon, and if you'll 
work for me as my personal secretary, starting on a trial basis for one 
month, during which, you'll learn your duties and prove your worth to me, 
I'll perhaps forget this ever happened. However... in the meantime, we can 
temporarily resolve it another way." 

Through miserable, tear-dimmed eyes, Mona looked up at him and trembled. 
"H-How...?" Then, she saw the salacious lust in those pale, blue eyes, set 
wide in his craggy lined face. The answer was there in her before he even 
spoke. Oh, no! Oh God, no! Not him, too! 

"From what Nick says, you would be willing to work it out, which is the only 
reason I won't be going to the authorities if you prove to be a very 
accommodating personal secretary," he leered. "Need I spell it out any more 
for you?" 

Mona gasped in disbelief, aghast. "Do you mean... sex?!" 

"Right! I can see you do have some sense in that pretty blonde head of 
yours," he smirked. "If you cooperate with us... eventually, you can rip up 
that application card and your husband will never know." Hugh's voice 
trailed off, but there was a hint of a real threat of possible consequences. 

That little word us stuck with Mona, its importance to what he said 
bludgeoning her painfully with it's pregnant meaning. 

"Us?" she questioned. "Y-You mean th-that? B-both of y-you? A-At one time?" 

"At one time! You're catching on, baby!" Harrington grunted dryly with an 
approving nod from his superior, affirming Mona's worst fears. "We're both 
going to fuck you at the same time... until you can't even walk!" 

"Ohhhh, My God! I-I'd rather go to jail!" she moaned. 

"You mean that? Because we can accommodate you either way... of course your 
husband will find out..." 

She hadn't the strength or courage to even notice who said that. 

"No... no... NO!" cried Mona. She felt like a trapped animal that once 
caught in the steel trap struggled to free itself, but only succeeds in 
causing the cruel teeth to dig in deeper, hold the trapped paw tighter, more 
painful still. She would have to do whatever they both demanded of her... 
But both of them? The skinny, beady eyed canary and the hulkish bear?! 

Deep in the morass of her self pity, Mona was wondering where her new 
debauchment by these leering animals would take place, when Hugh lumbered 
around his desk and took her by her slender arm, assisting her from her 
chair and said; "Come on now, Mona, let me show you into my private office. 

Here? Right now? Oh, dear God! Didn't these men any compassion? She 
wondered, too, if in the times she'd shopped at Joseph's how many other 
unsuspecting, teary-eyed women who couldn't pay their bills or lied, ended 
up in this office 'working off' their transgressions on Mr. Murphy's lordly 
couch which she stared at now through the opened door of his plush private 
office. Numbly, she allowed herself to be led in; then, just as dumbly, she 
sat down on the couch, as he led her to it, shaking her head negatively only 
when he held a shot of whiskey to her parched lips. 

"Why don't you give me vinegar?" she spat acidly. 

 Chapter Five 

"Don't be a martyr, Mona. Last time you didn't even need a drink. Suit 
yourself; I was just trying to make it a bit easier for you. You'll be 
dynamite with a few sips of 

booze to loosen you up!" Harrington coaxed, lifting his own glass to his 
lips, confident that ensnaring this blonde lovely would win him a raise. 

Insult heaped upon insult got the better of Mona's composure. "I don't want 
anything to drink!" she flared. And to herself: I don't want to lose control 
of myself again! Dear Orin, forgive me! 

"One man's poison is another man's high!" Hugh eased his bulk down beside 
her, sipping at his Jack Daniels up straight, and his ham-like paw went her 
knee to caress it suggestively. 

Even as a loathing for his touch flooded through her, Mona sensed a certain 
animal magnetism in Murphy, an intense, maleness that exuded from his every 
pore and an accompanying, unexplainable tingling-definitely sexual-ran with 
searing fingers up and down her spine as his exploring digits inched higher 
along her parted thighs to the soft inner warmth of her pubic vee. Timidly, 
she looked up at him and saw nothing attractive at all about him. He's an 
ugly old man...! But there was no explanation as to why she felt a tiny glow 
of arousal deep within her belly. 

Sitting across from her, Harrington had been drinking steadily from his 
glass; now he tossed down the remainder, set the glass down and moved to sit 
on the other side of her. "Let's get on with this before Blanche gets her 
suspicions up." In a moment, he tugged the sweater out of Mona's black wool 
pants and started yanking it up over her head. 

Afraid to look the men in the eye, Mona's eyes fell on the thick, pulsing 
bulge inside Harrington's pants which graphically reminded her of what was 
to come... in a few unholy minutes. 

For an instant, she resisted him as he pulled her sweater over her head and 
off her arms. "Please?" She clasped the sweater over her trembling breasts, 
trapped inside the flimsy barrier of her lace brassiere. 

"Hey! Get that sweater off and show Mr. Murphy that pretty tan line," 
whistled Nick suggestively, roughly pulling her sweater away from her. 

Then, as Nick began working on the snaps of her brassiere, she felt Hugh, on 
the other side of her, rising. Two turquoise pools of depthless despair fell 
on his bear-like body, stripping itself of tie and jacket. He, too, she 
couldn't help but notice, had a huge, tell-tale bulge in the front of his 
pants. A cold shiver nipped at her breasts and she realized she was naked 
from the waist up. Instinctively, she covered herself with her arms. 

"Hey baby, that's no fair... not with boobs like yours!" Nick firmly pushed 
her arms away; his hot thin lips coming wetly down to immediately capture 
the pink bud of her slowly hardening right nipple. He sucked it up hungrily, 
nibbling with his chapped lips, 

his tongue laving at the sensitive peak of flesh, while his hand was busy 
with its twin, his fingers massaging and rolling the now erect nipple 
between his thumb and forefinger. Again, she felt a traitorous sensation 
race charging through her... exactly what she'd prayed against. They can 
d-do what they want with me... but I won't let them make me like it! I 
won't! I WON'T!" 

"You will have to stand up for a moment." It was Hugh's throaty voice behind 
them. 

Mona stood up and Nick took her solidly into his hands moving deftly to push 
her wool slacks down over her smoothly flaring hips; they fell with a sigh 
to the floor. He pressed her tightly against his bony body, his hands on the 
softly rounded moons of her firm, fleshy buttocks feeling them through her 
thin nylon panties and pulling her up against the warm, pulsing bulge of his 
stalking penis. His hard male flesh was hot against her fearfully cringing 
abdomen and she felt nauseated at the idea of how she was being used, just 
as before, she knew self recrimination did no good. Her voluptuous 
five-foot-two body slumped against him, letting him feel her soft bumps. He 
tilted her head up and kissed her hard and long, his tongue probing 
sinuously between her soft pearly teeth. Mona didn't resist. Instead, she 
stood there limply and let him have his fun, as his hands ran up and down 
her back and caressed the soft, fleshy mounds of her nylon-covered ass 
cheeks and as she stood there unresisting, she tried to make her mind a 
blank page, pretend that none of this was real... only a silly book written 
for bored housewives. A metallic click behind her was followed by a couple 
of thumps. Glancing out the corner of a turquoise eye, she saw Hugh had made 
the couch into a big, soft bed. She remembered thinking: How clever! 

Behind her, his voice coming from the bed, she heard Hugh Murphy growl, "Get 
those Goddamned panties off of her! I want to see this lying little blonde 
bitch bare-assed naked. If she's gonna work for me she needs 
qualifications." 

Harrington stopped kissing Mona and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of 
the white laced bikini Mona had 'picked up' on the sale table down in the 
lingerie department, exchanging them for the soiled ones sopping with Nick 
Harrington's sperm. With slow deliberation, Nick pulled them down over her 
naked buttocks, exposing the deep tan line that dipped low along her cleft. 
With true admiration, he knelt before her and rolled them down over the 
smooth, wheat tanned columns of her firmly tapered thighs. Nick helped her 
to step out of them, then spun her around to face Hugh Murphy for a final 
appraisal. 

Mona grew two inches with the gasp of dismay. Lying naked on the bed, Hugh, 
propped up on two pillows, his huge, barrel-chested body seemingly covered 
with a blanket of dark brown hair, looked like a child's teddy bear. The 
hairiness of his virile body contrasted strikingly with his clean shaven 
face and shiny bald head... but the immense shaft of his manhood lancing out 
from a tangle of pubic hair, captured 

her gaze hypnotically. This man was more a bull than a man! 

"Pretty little thing, isn't she?" Harrington exulted, knowing his choice of 
women made a discernible difference in his pay check. 

"Yeah! She's okay... more than okay!" grunted Hugh, his eyes roving over her 
voluptuous nakedness with pure lust shining. He followed her gaze to his 
fully erect cock. 

"Impressed or worried?" he asked with a smile, his hand dipping down to 
caress it. "Or both...?" 

Mona ashamed of her ardent stare, glanced away. "N-No... I just couldn't 
help looking..." she mumbled to the wall. 

"Come on down for a better peek, my dear," encouraged Hugh, patting the 
empty mattress beside him. 

A moment's hesitation ended as Nick nudged her forward. Reluctantly, she 
padded over to the bed and sat down uneasily on the edge of it. Sitting up, 
Hugh wrapped his powerful arms around the naked young woman and lifted her 
into position beside him. Mona lay on her back, trembling in despair, shame 
and fright, as he stretched out beside her, still embracing her, his 
rampantly erect cock trapped between his abdomen and her faintly trembling 
thigh. Its throbbing heat and involuntary lurching signaled his anticipation 
and as she lay there quivering in his hairy embrace, she had the suffocating 
sensation of being hugged by some primordial cave man. She wondered if Hugh 
Murphy wasn't some throwback to an earlier age and she shivered within the 
hairy clasp of his arms, shuddering with fear, trepidation and 
mortification. 

"You know," Hugh said in a tender, whispering voice, almost seductive. "I'm 
not what you're thinking... I'm not cruel or sadistic. I just like to fuck." 

Something within Mona tingled. "But you're forcing me!" 

"Only for openers, my dear. You'll be coming for more. They all do in the 
end." 

He's insane! "I doubt it," countered Mona coweringly. 

True. The hands that roamed over her body were not cruel hands-just curious 
ones-and an undeniable tingle of arousal trickled through her. What about 
Hugh Murphy, anyway? He wasn't a sexy man, but he exuded the sexual virility 
of a mature bull... the kind of overpowering maleness that dominated a 
female. In the back of her conscious mind, she knew that her vow to refuse 
enjoyment was crumbling feebly His sex would dominate her with or without 
her consent. 

Harrington lay down on her other side and she felt the warmth of his naked 
body pressing against her clammy one. Below, the hard pole of his penis 
jabbed into her other thigh. 

In the flicker of an eyelash, Hugh's large, sensuous lips came gently down 
over hers and his tongue lashed deep into her throat, while one of his 
outsized hands almost covered the soft globe of one ripe melon breast. As he 
caressed her smooth satiny flesh, Mona couldn't resist a lustful gurgle from 
rippling in her throat. 

To the right of her, Nick Harrington used his mouth on her other softly 
throbbing breast, warmly sucking on the marbly nipple; then one of his boney 
hands moved caressingly down across the flat, sand-colored plane of her 
belly and in a probe of the fingers, his searching hand found the golden, 
hair covered nest between her trembling young thighs. 

Not wanting to do it, but helpless to control her over-heated muscles, Mona 
involuntarily opened her tightly clenched thighs at the first ounce of 
pressure of his hand. Almost instantly, she felt his outstretched middle 
finger delve into the fleshy slit of her seeping pussy to find the button of 
her clitoris. She lurched when his finger touched the magic switch, her hips 
jerking back and down into the softness of the mattress as his tantalizing 
fingertip brought a moan from deep in her bosomy chest. He gave the nub a 
few polishing strokes, turning it blood red as a polished cherry while her 
nakedly gyrating hips did a lusty grind of delight. God! Two men touching 
her like this...! 

A moment of panic tore through her. What was wrong with her? Alcohol was 
certainly not the excuse for this display of nymphomania, yet here she was 
on this bed, with two strange, virile men, against her will responding to 
them like a child to Santa Claus. Orin and her sworn fidelity flickered from 
her consciousness as she felt Harrington's body slithering downward, his 
mouth leaving her tingling breast to trail moist kisses down along the 
blazing path of his caressing hand. 

Lord! It took no brains to figure out the next move. B-But I can't help it! 
When Nick had kissed and licked her shamefully aroused pussy that last time, 
she'd been certain she would die from the sheer pleasure of it. 

Now, Harrington's mouth was poised above the golden curls of her pubic mound 
and the hot breath steaming from his snorting nostrils made her clitoris 
bud. His hot skinny hands were wedging her legs apart with gentle firmness 
and Mona whimpered helplessly up into Hugh's mouth puppy-like. In reward, he 
raised his head, breaking the passionate kiss, and dropped his beefy lips to 
her breasts where he took the erect throbbing nipple into his hot, 
saliva-dripping mouth. Mona winced as he nibbled at it with his teeth, 
sparking tiny pains of sensual joy. 

Her body manipulated like a rubber doll, Harrington hauled her legs wide 
apart and pulled up her knees, his hands sliding down along the warm, 
softness of her goosebumped, smoothly tapered inner thighs until they 
stopped at the furry mound of her cuntal slit. With deliberate slowness, he 
used his thumbs to peel apart the dewy petals of her pink cuntal opening. 
Mona couldn't breathe from the wonderful electric charges hot wiring through 
her body. 

Hugh, sucking on one nipple like a hungry kitten, made the half-dollar size 
nipple slide in and out between his lips. Without thinking, Mona reached up 
to her swollen 

breast, cupped it and offered up its nectar to the sex god; and with no 
further thought, her other hand reached up to fondly trace the craggy 
features of his bloated face. Hugh Murphy was no movie star, but his sexual 
allure was unmistakably real... a fact that Mona Bradley had recently 
discovered. 

Impatiently she waited as Nick's lips followed the fleshy path of his hands, 
alternately kissing and nipping the smooth tanned flesh of her inner thighs, 
his 

mouth like fire on her skin, as he taunted her with closer nibblings near 
the nakedly wide opening of her hotly pulsating cunt held wide open by his 
hands. Oh, God! What's taking him so long? 

A thousand volts of electricity stabbed through her! His lips were there, 
warm and moist, making erotically electrical contact with the searingly 
needful hole of her pussy, his tongue hotly lashing into the naked opening 
of her cunt, and she groaned aloud with both ecstasy and relief. Her hips 
did a dance of lust her and she felt all moist and warm down there between 
her legs as Nick's tongue ran circles just inside the coral mouth of her 
cunt. Oooohhh! Their mouths... oh God, their mouths! Her blonde curls 
thrashed from side to side as her body squirmed like a battery-run doll. 

And as Nick's long, snaky tongue wiggled upward to the on switch of her 
sensuality, her erect clitoris, he licked and sucked at the vibrantly 
pulsing bud, concentrating on the nerve-filled sensitive head of it, knowing 
that would have her well-oiled for the reaming he and his boss would give 
her. Hell! He gloated. This bitch is short-fused. What a sex pot! 

Nostrils flaring from the heady perfume of her womanliness, Nick lost 
himself in the hungry licking and sucking of her succulent young cunt, his 
own lust painfully aching in his sperm-filled balls. Damned if I know the 
protocol for sharing with the boss, but I'm about ready to pop if I don't 
get my cock in her cunt soon! In bed, sharing a woman, or whatever, Hugh was 
still boss. 

Mona had reached her wit's end. Harrington's hot, slithering tongue licking 
at her pussy below, while Hugh's vacuum-mouth sucked on her breasts above, 
had brought her to the bursting point. Suddenly, she heaved her hips off the 
bed, mashing her hot, furry pussy hard against Nick's working wet mouth 
until his nose flattened against her clitoris. "Oh, oooohh, Gawd! Ooooh! 
Yessss!" she hissed. "Do it to me!" 

Harrington's lips dribbled with her cuntal juices as he withdrew his sucking 
mouth from her cunt. "Let's not go through this bullshit it again, Mrs. 
Bradley. If you want to get fucked, you know the password!" 

Gawd! She hated those words... but if that's what it took, damn propriety! 
"Fuck me!" she cried without pride. "Fuck me! I want b-both of you to fuck 
me!" Actually, she wasn't sure just how one manipulated such double antics, 
but Mona was hardly in a bargaining power position. 

"Okay, Baby! You'll get it now!" It was Hugh Murphy speaking. "Let's change 
places, Harrington. I'll fuck her first!" 

Disappointingly, she felt the loss of their hot wet mouths as the two men 
shifted positions. Their naked bodies passed, one skinny, the other 
blubbery, one on either side of her slim figure, Harrington sliding upward 
to stretch out beside her and immediately lean over to kiss her with his 
long tongue. It was all the more erotic, for she could taste the slightly 
pungent taste of her genital lubricants on his lips and tongue. Massagingly, 
his fingers dug deeply into the soft globes of her passion-ripened breasts, 
while below, Hugh used at least two of his pudgy fingers to thrust deep into 
the moist hole of her frantically ready cuntal passage. Gawd! It felt 
good... but she needed something more than fingers down there... a warm, 
hard cock! Their playing games with me. Why don't they fuck me now? 

"Don't fret, doll. Hugh's just stretching you a little... don't want you to 
fall apart when my prick fucks into this tight cunt." 

A sudden stabbing pain down in her fear-tightened cuntal opening made her 
shiver as the tender tissues were pressed apart. "Oohh, that hurts!" she 
cried, twisting her mouth away from Nick. 

It was Hugh rummaging around in her tender pussy, prodding with three 
fingers. "You'll be glad I took the time for this. Now get up on your knees 
with your tanned little ass in the air. I'm gonna give it to you 
doggie-style." 

As Harrington moved aside, she hastened to obey, turning over and scrambling 
to her knees. Leaning down on her dimpled elbows, she looked back past her 
melonous dangling breasts to see Hugh heaving his bulk up onto his pudgy 
knees, his hands reaching out to grasp her naked hips. Another glimpse of 
his long, purple knobbed erection spearing from his hairy thatch at the 
junction of this thighs... his cockhead bloated with blood, the whole corona 
shiny and smooth as rich red velvet... made her throat constrict. Then he 
flexed his knees to nudge his log-like penis up against the little pink 
groove of her pussy. Mona felt it pulsating warmly against the flowered open 
lips of her stretched, seeping cunt and second thoughts flittered through 
her mind. God! He'll stretch me so wide, Orin will know for sure I've been 
fucked and messing around. 

"Reach back up and put that baby in!" grated Hugh, his bowling-ball shaped 
head red with exertion. 

His voice thundered with authority, and with shaking fingers, Mona reached 
back between her frantically trembling thighs and grasped the 
mushroom-shaped head, her fingers going only part way around its fleshy 
girth. Then, knowing its enormity, she felt its vibrant heart-throb, its 
radiating heat. Mona hesitated. 

"Put that damn cock in your cunt, bitch!" 

Mona never saw it coming, but feel it, she did. His hand came down in a 
stinging slap across her fear-clenched and tanned buttocks as 
simultaneously, he drove his hips forward, the thick blood heavy head of his 
erect cock ramming into her hot quivering pussy with a greasy squeak. The 
elastic flesh of her pink pussy opening stretched accommodatingly, 
distending wider than the three finger dilation of seconds before. A 

screech of pain and fright made him stop short, letting the purple-knobbed 
head of his cock peek into the tender cuntal flesh for the time being. He 
squeezed and massaged her goosebumped hips and buttocks and in a voice that 
would soothe a crying baby, he said: 

"Relax, honey, it's gonna happen now, so relax and enjoy it. That's what 
it's made for." 

Then in a schizophrenic flicker of sadism, he flexed his lust-swollen cock 
head inside of her, eliciting another open-mouthed whine from her tortured 
lips. Again and again he did this, until Mona relaxed into the pain and 
opened onto the sunshine pleasure of his generous fucking. 

Slowly, still with inexorable pressure, Hugh fucked his blood-fed penis 
deeper into her, feeling her contracting muscle ring at her cunt mouth 
squeeze down hard around his penis to send tantalizing sparks of erotic 
sensation racing through his manhood. 

Inch by inch, he bored into her until her voluptuous loins began to eagerly 
invite him in, undulating back against him, her wetly seething cunt trying 
to gobble up his hardness. Then, with a feral, rutting lust, he used the 
bear-like power of his back and legs to the final few millimeters into her 
tender cervix where it lodged solidly against the far back spongy wall of 
her vaginal sheath. Mona moaned, but this time with the tones of sheer lust. 
Grinning his satisfaction, Hugh flexed his throbbing penis as it lay buried 
deep up inside its tender pink tomb. Gratified to feel her contracting cunt 
muscles clasping around the full length of him, the walls of her tight cunt 
rippled with erotic pleasure in the moist intimate caress. His hands got 
busy roaming over her lushly kneeling body, reaching under to pinch her 
ripe, full breasts, then down across her tanned belly to her wetly matted 
pubic mound where he slipped an outstretched finger into the top of her 
vaginal groove to caress the excitedly pulsing bud of her clitoris. 

Mona bucked like a bronco charging out the gate, desperate for her 'rapist' 
to begin his powerful fucking. "Oh Gawd!" she moaned. "It doesn't hurt 
now... so fuck me! Oh, God, Hugh, fuck me! FUCK ME! Her eyes saw nothing and 
her mind didn't register her own words. 

Hugh used slow, long smooth strokes to accommodate the lady-humping like a 
stud-horse behind her-pistoning his penis in and out of her steaming, 
swollen pussy, pulling his cock out until only the angry cock head peeked 
into the clinging hot mouth of her cunt and then slamming it home all the 
way until his hairy balls slapped hard against her buttocks, the force of 
her cunt-plumbing thrust flattening her ass-cheeks. Mewling, moaning, 
purring, Mona gurgled in her throat, her face contorted in delicious pain. 

Nick Harrington watched, though none too patiently, as his kneeling boss 
fucked Mona from behind, contenting himself with exploring her every 
luscious inch, but paying rapt attention to her firm breasts, cupping the 
soft, warm fruits as they hung ripely from her chest. As Hugh established a 
fucking beat, one of Nick's hands worked its sneaking path down to her 
wildly rippling abdomen where he rubbed at her polished red clitoris. 
Through his finger tips he could feel the wet vibrations of Hugh's tree 
trunk penis fucking in and out of her vaginal mouth. 

Mona felt all of it. Her mouth opened and closed in incoherent babblings, 
her mind certain that Hugh's deep thrusts into her pussy, combined with 
Nick's fingers flicking over her clitoris would blow a fuse in her nervous 
system. Only dimly was she 

aware of Nick's body moving upward, sliding into place before her with his 
legs spread wide. Now he leaned back on his elbows, and as her glassy eyes 
finally focused on this new antic, she was gazing directly at his 
cyclop-like cock-eye from which dribbled a single pearl of pre-cum. It 
wiggled and waggled there before her face, sometimes grazing her lips by 
mere millimeters like a snake searching for its hole in the ground. Mona 
stared curiously at it, not understanding yet why he would be shoving his 
erect penis up toward her face. Unless...? 

"Wh-what...?" she gasped pantingly. 

"Suck my cock, bitch." 

"...B-but...? Suck it?" 

"This is known as a double fucking. Don't play ignorant with us." His voice 
was cold as a buried casket and his hand hard as its steel. His hand came 
down across her face in a stinging blow, then softened its touch as he 
grasped his cock and worked the foreskin back to show off the purple veins 
pulsing with blood. 

The shiny, silken tip of his cock brushed against her lipsticked lips and 
she twisted her head aside in a futile attempt to escape the horror of his 
demands. Quickly he trapped her head in his hands and straightened it with a 
grunting jerk, then with a cruel pressure, he brought her head down again, 
aiming it directly for his dripping cock's eye. "Open your mouth, Mrs. 
Bradley!" 

Mrs. Bradley... oh, Gawd, that's right... I am a married woman! The pain of 
her sin blackened out all cognizance of guilt, and reluctantly she ovaled 
her lips, experimentally, as he flexed his hips forward and upward, while 
simultaneously, his hands forced her head down. It slithered into her mouth 
reptile-like, just the hot jerking head of it entering between her softly 
parted lips and her stomach rebelled in gagging nausea. 

"Take it easy and use your tongue," he hissed, his angular, Uriah Heep face 
red with desire. 

There was no way out. Concentrating, she controlled her gagging reflex and 
with a tentative swirl of her velvety tongue, tried to please her torturer. 
The shame of her actions flooded through her. It's disgusting... the things 
they're making me do... the things they're putting me through. As if being 
fucked like a dog isn't bad enough, they're forcing me to suck his cock, 
too! 

It happened in a double flash of surprise. Just as Mona's mightily-stretched 
pussy adjusted itself to Hugh's plunging cock, her tortured lips accustomed 
themselves to Nick's slithering penis in her mouth. It had a sweet... no, 
bittersweet flavor, she decided, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked hard, 
using her tongue like a breast-sucking baby. Nick gasped with pleasure. 

"That's it, Baby! You've got a fantastic mouth... just as soft as your 
cunt." 

Instinctively, or perhaps accidentally, Mona began to move her head up and 
down the lust-thickened pole with the buffeting rhythm of Hugh's long hard 
cock fucking in and out of her mouse trap cunt. Magically, her throat and 
mouth seemed anesthetized to Harrington's thick penis gorging into her mouth 
and she wondered if it was shame or excitement she felt! 

Behind her, one of Hugh's hands slipped down between her quivering, gyrating 
buttocks and his pudgy loins. When she sensed his thick finger searching in 
the dampened crevice between her erotically sensitive ass-cheeks, she 
winched recoilingly. Oh, God... that too...? But, she couldn't object, not 
with her mouth stuffed full with Nick's plunging cock. 

Tentatively, he pressed the tip of his finger against her puckered anus and 
slid it slowly into the cringing button of her rear channel. Searing pain 
sizzled there, but she couldn't scream; her mouth and throat were stuffed 
with Harrington's boring penis, while behind, fucking into her well 
lubricated vagina, Hugh's blood hardened cock plunged in and out, plumbing 
her womb to its most secret depths. He pushed harder still, his middle 
finger in all the way to the palm of his fat hand which flattened up against 
her tan and white striped buttock cheeks. Again she jerked forward, 
squirming away from the unnatural probing so far up in her little rectum. 
With no choice but to relax, she let her muscles lose their grip and with it 
went the pain. Grunting, grinding, gyrating and twisting, her naked buttocks 
shoved back against the double fucking of her loins. Mona wanted it all, 
everything they could give her... even though all three openings were filled 
with probing digits and pricks. 

Deeper and harder the kneeling adulteress bore the ravishment of Nick's 
crazily bloated cock as he rammed it down to her tonsils. She countered with 
her bobbing head, feeling a wanton madness swim over her, building toward a 
tumultuous orgasm. Without reservation or doubt, she surrendered herself 
body and soul. 

As Harrington panted-perspiration dripping from his forehead to dribble off 
the tip of his aquiline nose-his blood engorged cock lurching inside her 
sucking mouth, Mona didn't give a thought about what would happen when he 
climaxed. She didn't have a chance to think about it before it happened. 
Suddenly he stiffened to a beanpole ramrod and with one animalish grunt, he 
was cumming... in her mouth, his cock wildly jerking and pumping like a fire 
hose. It squirted into Mona's mouth and dribbled down her chin in pearly 
strands. She swallowed to keep from gagging... and something terribly erotic 
made her hungry for the bittersweet taste. Instinctively, she realized 
that's the way it should be. If it were otherwise, what fun would it be for 
Nick...? And somehow, even though she loathed the man, satisfying him was 
mammothly important. When he finished hosing his sperm obscenely into her 
mouth, she kept right on sucking, licking up every last thread of the sticky 
cum that seeped from his deflating penis. Finally, Harrington lifted her 
head to free his satiated penis from her mouth-trap. 

"You can stop sucking now," he said smugly, and that brought the odds back 
to one on one, which was okay with Hugh Murphy. Nick lay back and Mona 
watched with curious fascination as the blood fed penis collapsed like a 
punctured tire until it lay flaccid against his skinny thigh. Strangely, she 
still had the sensation that it was in her mouth and she wondered fleetingly 
if Hugh would want her to do the same to him... later. 

Bucking and pumping behind her, goring deep into her spongy pink depths, 
Hugh felt his tingling cock jerk in a gust of expansion and down there, 
behind the base of his penis, he felt the full load of his churning hot 
sperm boiling like a kettle ready to blow off its lid. Suddenly, he jerked 
his plunging finger out of her puckered rectum, and, grasping her with both 
hands around her waspish waist, he began to thrust and fuck insanely into 
her by hauling her naked body forward on his withdrawal. Like a rag doll in 
his strong hands, he fucked into her like an alley dog satisfying a 
bitch-in-heat under the mystique of a full moon. 

Mona sizzled with ecstasy. Like a time bomb ready to explode she counted the 
seconds, measured in grunting gyrations, until she would climax. God... let 
me cum! 

Hugh slammed his virility into her seeping cunt so hard that his lunges sent 
her head banging into Nick's boney knee. It was all she could do to hang 
onto her senses, allowing him to violently pull her lust-helpless body this 
way and that as he fucked into her with a manly dominance Orin sorely 
lacked. 

Without warning, she came. For an infinitesimal second, Mona Bradley stood 
on the pinnacle of an unconquerable mountain, breathing dizzily in the 
rarefied atmosphere and viewing the world in one glance as she convulsed 
spasmodically. The scream breaking from her throat was loud and long. "Oh, 
oh, ohhhh! Gaaaawd! I'm cumming!" 

Mona would have collapsed limply right then had not Hugh held her firmly in 
place as he punched his gorging penis into the heated mouse trap of her 
convulsively clasping cunt. 

Finally, with one last powerful, buttocks-flattening thrust, Hugh came. His 
massive cock expanded as every tablespoon of blood gushed down to his cock 
to explode in machine gun fire the white hot sperm which shot up to splash 
against Mona's tender cervix. He held her naked young buttocks close up 
against his hairy loins, his big, hammy hands grasping her painfully by the 
hips as his cock flooded her womb in a creamy froth. 

"Lord, you have a gorgeous cunt!" 

Unceremoniously then, he relaxed after a few moments, letting Mona fall from 
his grip until she slumped down onto the soft mattress, bouncing. His heavy 
bulk crashed down on top of her, his still twitching and pumping cock buried 
deep in her tired vagina. Not a word was spoken... 

After long moments, Mona stirred, feeling smothered by the flabby weight of 
Hugh Murphy's sweating body upon her small, frail one. Mona struggled for 
her next breath. "Let me up... please?!" 

Hugh grunted and rolled to her side. "That was something else, hon. You're 
going to love working as my private secretary when Nick here gets 
transferred to Fairbanks and takes his wife with him." 

"No way, mister!" spat Mona, yanking on her clothes. 

Hugh snorted and added acidly, "You're not off the hook yet... and with your 
attitude you're likely to end up over my knee and wearing some stripes!" 

Mona's guilt and shame piled high and deep as the snow burying Orin's little 
blue Toyota outside in the parking lot of Joseph's Department Store. 

Lord, when would the storm end? When could she go home with Orin, sit by the 
fireplace and play with the cat? When would life be normal again? 

 * * * * * 

 Down on the third floor, with one eye on the weather report, the other on 
his sorely losing rummy hand, Orin was wondering exactly that... and more. 
He flicked his wrist to read his watch, his eyes narrowing in concern. An 
hour and fifteen minutes was more than ample time to use the ladies room. 
Where the hell was Mona running off to? And why that scared-rabbit look 
everytime they happened into a crowded department or the tea room. If he 
didn't know her inside out as he did, he would be tempted to believe danger 
was on her heels. 

 Chapter Six 

The last day of the year was ripe with womanly misery. 

While Mona Bradley suffered the twin ravishment of two middle-aged sex 
hounds pawing over her body like so much trapped meat, Blanche Harrington 
mopped her sniffling nose in the off-limits territory of Hugh Murphy's 
business office. Slumped dejectedly in his rich-smelling leather chair, her 
fingers fumbled with the controls of his video machine wired to his private 
office and the lingerie fitting rooms for private when the mood hit. 

"Damn," she hissed as the picture flickered twice, turning to snow, and then 
blackened in finality. "The tubes out! I was right... that bastard is 
fucking other women in there! Right under my nose. Her eyes narrowed to 
watery slits. Jealousy and deep hurt fired her body with red-hot hatred. 
Once rejected was rule number one in the game called life, but to be twice 
deceived was heartbreaking. Tears tickled down her rouged cheeks and 
nervously, she brushed back a lock of curly brown hair that had straggled 
across her forehead. 

I knew Hugh used that office to scandalize women... I've been in there 
myself more than a few times. But had Nick no more pride than to follow his 
boss puppy-dog-like in after him, eating the crumbs from his master's table? 

Up until the moment the tube knocked out, Blanche watched as her husband 
stripped down the lusciously tanned woman accused of fraud and sucked on her 
breast. To suspect is one thing, but to see is quite another and an 
unexpected flicker of hatred bolted through her body. Though Blanche had 
sworn off Nick as a no-good woman monger who'd fuck a snake if he could find 
a place to put it in, he was still her husband. Could it be that her affair 
with Hugh Murphy was merely a decoy for her real emotions? Had it been too 
painful in the past to confront Nick's philandering... and that presented an 
excuse for her to even the score? 

Blanche gave the machine an angry slap, hard enough to rattle the tubes... 
to no avail. All that remained of the taped sex orgy next door was the tiny 
voice of Mona Bradley screeching: "Ohhh, that hurts!" 

One ear to the crackling speaker, Blanche visualized her lover's enormously 
thick penis slamming deep into that unseen woman's nakedly exposed vagina 
and she knew how that felt. Sometimes it still hurts me when he shoves his 
cock in! 

Hugh was speaking: "Believe me... you'll be glad I took the time for this! 
Now get up on your knees with your tanned little ass in the air. I'm gonna 
fuck you doggie-style!" 

Rustling, indistinct sounds came over the speaker, then, two or three 
moments later, the woman cried out: "NO! You're too big!" 

Oh, he didn't have it in her yet! 

Silence. Blanche's face flushed. God! He's such a dominating bastard. There 
was a tiny spark of sympathy for the poor woman in there... and unwanted, 
she felt her own loins begin to glow with an unexpected arousal and her 
inner cuntal lips moistened slickly. She resented her response. Damn! I'm 
getting hot... listening to my lover fuck a strange woman while my husband 
sits by! 

"Reach back up and put that baby in!" Hugh commanded. 

Crack! 

He hit her, the sonofabitch. Mona Bradley screamed, and Blanche had no 
difficulty imagining how he had thrust his hotly throbbing cock deep up into 
Mona's cringing cunt. 

"Come on, put that damn cock in your cunt, bitch... Relax, honey, it's gonna 
happen now, so relax and enjoy it. That's what it's made for." Hugh's voice 
was more gentle now. I don't think I've really ever gotten used to it! 
Blanche could almost feel it herself. 

From the speaker came Mona's passionate moan: "Oh Gawd! It doesn't hurt 
now... so fuck me! Oh, God, Hugh, fuck me!" Blanche thought about how often 
she had begged her employer just as abjectly. 

Mona Bradley: "Wh-what?" 

"Suck my cock, bitch." Blanche sat up erect at the unmistakable sound of her 
husband's voice. So the bastard doesn't want sloppy seconds, huh...? He's 
going to shove it in her mouth. Nick always was selfish. 

"B-but... suck it?" Mona was questioning. 

"This is known as a double-fucking. Don't play ignorant with us." Nick's 
trying to sound like a big shot now... just to impress Hugh. 

Another crack. He hit her, the bloody bastard! 

"Open your mouth, Mrs. Bradley." Following a moments silence: "Take it easy 
and use your tongue." 

She's got him in her mouth now! 

Blanche sat with one ear glued to the speaker, right up to the moment when 
Hugh Murphy revealed his secret plan. "That was something else, hon. You're 
going to enjoy working as my private secretary when Nick here gets 
transferred to Fairbanks and takes his wife with him." 

Blanche turned hot, then cold with anger. The prick's gonna fire me! she 
stormed, and hire that little blonde hussy. And Nick never said a word about 
it! Damn both of them! 

Flicking off the machine, Blanche stomped out of the office grabbing her 
coat and purse before she realized she couldn't get home. Damn this stupid 
snowstorm... stuck in this dumb department store with two men who treat me 
like dirt... work like a slave for them, and what do I get? Blanche 
Harrington harbored no doubts as how to even the final score. Since that day 
Nick began working here, her life had turned into a pinball game, knocking 
around balls and winning points. Damned ridiculous... 

The pressure of Blanche's angry stomping feet caused one of her skinny spike 
heels to wedge in the escalator step's groove on her way down to the third a 
men's floor, now a men's smoker blue with cigarette and cigar smoke. 
Humiliated and frustrated, she slipped her tiny foot of the trapped shoe and 
bent down to wiggle it free, the lines of her tight wool kick-pleated skirt 
hugging her buttocks like wet jersey. Fourteen sets of eyes turned from the 
television screen in a chorus of howled wolf whistles and laughter, making 
Blanche hiss with disgust. She arched her back, hands on her flaring hips 
and blasted them for their inconsideration. "What's the matter with you men, 
anyway? Isn't one of you gentleman enough to help a lady in need?" 

Dan looked boorishly up from his card hand, cigarette dangling from his 
lips. "That woman's always bitchin' about something," he muttered across the 
card table and slapped an eight of spades on Orin's king of hearts, trumping 
it. "She's Murphy's private secretary. Gorgeous piece of ass, but don't try 
to touch it... she's all mouth, just a bunch of steam." 

Blanche's professional credentials didn't interest Orin, her physical ones 
did: in particular, the svelte outline of Blanche Harrington's D cup breasts 
and waspish waist, pulled Scarlet O'Hara tight by a slim gold belt. Orin had 
never messed around on his wife, though more than one desperate female had 
offered her services in exchange for pounding out a dented bumper still hot 
from collision. This woman was twice as pretty as any of them, and needed 
help just as badly. Conceding the game to Dan, Orin hustled toward the 
escalator, now powerless for safety's sake, his pulse quickening as his 
heart pumped gushing blasts of hot blood to his rising penis. Orin felt hot 
and cold at the same time as his blue eyes closed in on the outline of two 
beige nubs poking out from under the sheer silk blouse Blanche wore. 
Something about her alabaster, flawless skin with impossibly firm bosoms 
reminded Orin of the manikins down on the first floor freezing in their 
see-through negligees, and he shivered. 

"My name's Orin... pleased to help you, ma'am." He might have been speaking 
to a customer at the filling station, so polite was he. With little effort, 
he wiggled the spike heel free, then held her hand-too soft to have ever 
touched dish suds-while she balanced her way back into the Italian spike 
heel shoe. His kind gentility impressed Blanche, but she was too ridden with 
male contempt to soften. 

"Nice to know there's one decent man in this damned world," she snorted and 
stomped off down the first floor lingerie department where she correctly 
predicted Sondra Murphy to be pawing through racks of negligees and 
peignoirs. Everybody knew Murphy's wife spent a good deal of time in bed... 
and not alone. Her penchant bordering on fixation for see-trough nightgowns 
and underwear was unheralded in Joseph's Department Store and the list of 
these items that passed Blanche's desk every week was 

cause for scandal. 

Sondra wasn't alone in her love for the sheer things in life, for right 
beside her stood a pot bellied lady whom Blanche readily recognized as the 
food monger who'd scarfed up all two dozen crab legs that first night of the 
whiteout when the Green Leaf Tea Room 

foolishly opened its door. Blanche remembered that smorgasbord well... its 
partakers crassly gobbling down food and guzzling wine like starving Vikings 
fresh in from the sea... for Hugh Murphy was none too pleased when his 
secretary came solicitously back up to his office with a cold chicken leg 
and a slice of salami for his dinner. 

Sondra was one hundred percent female and proud of it. A curvaceous redhead 
with hair flaming half way down her supple spine and shamrock green eyes, 
she flipping through a rack of recently arrived French camisoles and tap 
pants, both sewn from 'nude pink' silk and trimmed in antique eggshell lace. 
Holding one up to her bosomy chest and sacheting in salacious twirls before 
the triptych mirror, Sondra's smile faded when she caught sight of Blanche's 
reflection in the mirror. 

Oh, Lord! Had Blanche seen her hidden away down in the basement lawn 
furniture department huddled up on a lawn swing sharing a bottle of Italian 
Chianti from the Vino Gardens and a box of assorted cheeses and smoked 
seafood from the gourmet shop with her male friend? She rationalized away 
her fears. We've got to stick together in emergencies, don't we? Dear Jesus, 
Hugh would kill me if he found out I'd been messing around with one of his 
salesmen. But one thing leads to another in emergencies and nature always 
has its way... as the snow storm had proven. 

"H-Hello, Blanche," Sondra said to the mirror. "Isn't this camisole just 
adorable? I've got to have it!" She swung around to face the worry-wrinkled 
distress etched on her husband's secretary's gorgeous face and immediately, 
with selfish relief, Sondra knew Blanche's concern was a private one. 

With vehement reprisal, Blanche ignored none of the gory details, neither 
about herself and Hugh, nor the parade of 'other women', and Blanche soon 
learned Sondra was aware of her husband's philandering. For a reticent 
moment their relationship was an 

uneasy one-wronged wife and the other woman, but as they talked further, 
heading down to the gourmet shop to pick up a bottle of wine and glasses, 
they moved into a friendly camaraderie and shared intimate bits of 
information. 

Two glasses of wine apiece later, all guards down, they realized that not 
one of the four deserved the monogamous nuptials award and they decided it 
was time for a showdown-time to knock down the wall of double standards. 
Neither waged invectives toward the blonde haired, coconut-tanned lovely 
who'd screamed her lust over the video machine... though a flicker of 
jealousy over her lush body did spark Sondra's eyes a shade greener. 

Finally, the two women, drawn together in mutual misery, their bellies 
warmed by a third glass of wine and their talk of sex leading them on to it, 
both shared in a second floor fitting room, found themselves talking ever 
more intimately as they planned what they would do as soon as they found the 
right place. 

"We'll have to put on a good lesbian act..." Blanche said, finding it 
difficult to control her breathing. "You know what we'll have to do!" 

Sondra was remembering how it had been dancing in the Las Vegas club where 
Hugh Murphy discovered her-breasts first. "Yes, I know all about that!" One 
of her polished fingers stole out to Blanche's heaving breast to knead and 
caress. 

Cringing away, Blanche gasped. "Oh, God! Not now, Sondra! Not here!" Then 
she moaned as the gently caressing hand moved to the other breast. 

In the next instant, the two moaning women were together in the sealed off 
confines of the fitting room, their wetly open mouths seeking and finding 
lips to kiss, their tongues entwining probingly and their hands searching 
feverishly the lushly ripened mounds and curves of each other to caress and 
fondle. Soon they were on the plushly carpeted floor, Blanche a little 
apprehensive, yet, but willing to learn, as the flames of passion scorched 
out of proportion. Naked on the floor now, their hotly hungering mouths and 
faces buried in the warmly perfumed flesh up between each other's outspread 
thighs, they tasted the joys of woman-love, tender and sweet. 

"That was a practice run," suggested Sondra, lighting a cigarette afterward 
and lounging back, slim and willowy in her strawberry tressed loveliness. 

"Yes," agreed Blanche. "But I don't know how I missed out on this... all of 
these years!" Her sigh was languid, satisfied, and she gazed lovingly at the 
other naked woman with smoky, full-lidded eyes. 

Now was time for the real thing, and that takes more than curiosity. 

 * * * * * 

 Mona's grief was boundless... and to add insult to injury, her tan was 
fading. "Damn!" she sputtered, hysterically. "Double damn!" How could so 
many things go amiss in so few hours; she'd lived twenty some years with no 
trauma, and in as long as it took the skies to bury the earth, her miseries 
were burying her. 

The creeps... taking advantage of me like that! I won't feel guilty at all 
for stealing a sunlamp. She stomped off to the basement housewares, taking 
the steps instead of the escalator, and picked out the most expensive 
sunlamp there-one with an automatic timer-and stripping herself naked in the 
housewares storeroom, laid under the burning rays for five minutes. 

One side baked, she flipped over, appreciating the ray's hot fingers 
soothing her weary flesh like the touch of a man's massaging hands caressing 
her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. Behind her closed eyes flickered 
remaining scenes of today's debauchery. Mona whimpered in hurt and self 
disgust. 

Dear lovable Orin... forgive me, but I can't face you yet. Mona Bradley lay 
there amongst the cartons of electric fry pans, toasters and blenders, 
feeling like a caged animal, like one of those little glass ones so admired 
by the character she portrayed in her high school play, The Glass Menagerie. 

 Chapter Seven 

Orin Bradley found no value in negativity, but his patience was running thin 
as the food supplies in the plundered Green Leaf Tea Room. He'd stalked 
every square foot of the store searching for Mona, who'd seemed to have 
disappeared with the wind. She 

come to me when she needs me, he rationalized tiredly. 

Three o'clock in the afternoon didn't look much different from twelve 
midnight, except for the diffused rays of sun struggling to pierce through 
the pregnant grey skies. Orin Bradley thought just that in simpler terms as 
he stood near the glass-fronted store entrance, rubbing his chin 
contemplatively, watching the snow blanket the parking lot in its third 
seiging day. He chewed on his lip, perplexed. Suddenly, the innocuous 
background music of Montavani's orchestra trilled off, and a honeyed voice 
purred over the loudspeaker: 

"Would Mr. Bradley kindly come to the business office please? We repeat, Mr. 
Bradley, report to the business office on the fourth floor. Urgent..." 

Montavani's orchestra picked up its melancholy refrain and Orin Bradley's 
heart picked up a beat. "Mona... my Bunny!" Dear Lord, had something 
happened to her? 

Orin wasn't alone in his confusion. Down in the housewares storeroom tanning 
her rounded buttocks, Mona Bradley lifted her head at the sound of the 
crackling intercom, and sucked in her breath, a cold shiver suffusing her 
body. Mona seldom swore, but her mind rattled off a barrage of vituperations 
that would rust the gates of hell. 

The dirty bastards tricked me! They promised they wouldn't tell Orin if I 
did those dirty nasty things and now they're going to tell him anyway! True 
misery welled in her D cup chest, and for a moment she felt faint. This 
damned snowstorm... if only I could get out of this dumb store, I'd drive up 
to Portland Maine and stay with my sister until Orin serves me with the 
divorce papers. Oh, God, why did I ever insist on that sunlamp? Her dimpled 
chin quivered and she kicked at a carton marked 'fragile,' sending a 
punchbowl set crashing to the floor. Damn! 

 * * * * * 

 While Nick and Hugh, lust satiated, took a noonday nap in the private 
office, Blanche Harrington manned the outer office. She was filing her long, 
tapered fingernails when a man stepped through the door. 

"Mr. Bradley?" Blanche's wide blue eyes turned like lusty mood stones as the 
man who'd saved her expensive Italian spike heels ambled through the door. 
So this handsome gentleman is Mona Bradley's husband? Hmmmm... What a sweet 
coincidence. 

Unaccustomed to such blatant attention, Orin showed his awkwardness, which 
Blanche interpreted as a compliment, for men felt clumsy in the company of 
gorgeous women, didn't they? 

"I-I heard your announcement." 

"Yes." Blanche ran her scarlet red fingertips through her lustrous brown 
curls and arched her back, thrusting out the firm white mountains poking 
brown circles through her silk blouse unbuttoned one lower now to show off 
the shadowed valley of her creamy cleavage. Her nylon stockings swooshed 
excitingly as she swung one slim leg over the other, posed in profile to 
reveal a naked expanse of thigh garnered by a black lace garter belt holding 
up a sheer dress stocking. "I just wanted to thank you, Mr. Bradley, for 
being such a sweet, lovable man and saving my little bitty shoe." He's 
making this easy for me... "They're adorable shoes, don't you think?" 
Pooching out her cherry-glossed lips, she thrust out her leg, skirt hiking 
up to her garters, and wiggled one slender foot fashionably draped in a high 
ankle strap. "Nice, aren't they?" 

Orin Bradley gulped and smiled lopsidedly, his heart knocking at lust's 
door. "Ah... kinda wicked, but... but they are nice. Real nice." God, I can 
see the lace on her panties, her skirt's so far up her leg! 

"Orin? Would you be a honey and do me a little favor?" she gushed. "I'm just 
so sick and tired of being stuck in this stuffy store and you know about the 
lack of privacy. It's like the California gold rush trying to find a bed 
over in the furniture section. Well..." she fluttered her spidery eyelashes 
over her freshly rouged cheeks. "Would you be a darling and carry a mattress 
down to the second floor and put it in the dress department storeroom?" 

Orin shrugged; he was hoping the favor would have been more rewarding. 
"Sure. When do you want it?" 

"Oh..." Blanche glanced at her diamond watch. "In about fifteen minutes. 
I'll be in the room marked 'employees only!' Can't miss it." 

Orin hauled the mattress down from the fourth floor to the second, feeling a 
bit foolish and ignoring quizzical stares from the men in the third floor 
smoker, where empty wine and liquor bottles littered the floor. Nine 
television sets were blasting at once, all on different stations while men 
in two-day old five o'clock shadows slumped in easy chairs, arms draping 
over the sides, snoring. 

Orin knocked over a rack of women's clothes marked "Hold," wedging the 
mattress through the door; he was just righting it, when a sweet voice 
bubbled from the adjacent pressing room. 

"Thank you, darling. Come in and let me show you my appreciation!" 

...Then he saw her! Why Blanche Harrington was wearing at three o'clock in 
the afternoon a frilly dressing robe that he could almost look right 
through, the way it gaped open at the top, so that he could see her full 
white breasts welling out so delightfully underneath, was a mystery to him. 
Blanche eyed his hesitation and added, "You're a wonderful man." 

Momentarily, Orin wondered whether this was a trap. Hell, maybe she misses 
her husband and needs a body to warm up to. His interest peaked 
electrically. I've got nothing to lose! He stepped through the door. 

He saw the second one then! A blazing red head smiled up at him from the 
floor littered with over-stuffed pillows. Completely naked, her body 
arranged provocatively, he couldn't miss the delicacy of her pink nipples 
standing erect, the nipped in waist, curling hips and tapered thighs of a 
thoroughly sexual woman... like the stripper he'd seen down at the Red 
Garter, during happy hour. Orin stopped short, staring with unabashed manly 
interest. The door to the dressing room swung shut behind him and he heard 
the bolt click home. What the hell? Two of them...! A couple of lesbians, 
probably... but what do they want with me? 

He turned toward the door, something telling him he'd better leave, fast! 
"Excuse me ladies... but I feel out-numbered." 

Blanche was loosening her robe; the front draped open, revealing her lushly 
mature body, and Orin's eyes swiveled to take in her beauty, aware of his 
penis charging the gates of its cloth trap. 

"Don't you wanna watch us...?" Blanche said in a little girl voice with a 
lewd smile curling her lips. 

Christ! They're a couple of kooks! "Why would I do that?" he asked, knowing 
a keg of dynamite couldn't get him of there. 

The red head spoke: "Most men like to watch." 

"This is Sondra... Sondra, Orin Bradley." 

Orin nodded mutely toward his nude encountress. 

Her robe shed, Blanche dropped to the floor and Orin couldn't keep his eyes 
off her sensually rippling buttocks and long legs. "Just one thing... you 
are Mona Bradley's husband, right?" 

"Yes," His eyes narrowed. "What has that got to do with anything?" Orin was 
truly mystified. 

The two women exchanged glances, knowingly, and Blanche said, brightly, 
"Okay! That's all we needed to know." 

Orin watched dumbfoundedly as Blanche lay down on the floor beside Sondra 
Murphy, one of her tiny, white hands reaching out to caress the redhead's 
ripely firm breasts. He took a step, looked down at them and asked; "Aren't 
you going to tell me what the hell is going on here? What does Mona have to 
do with this?" 

"Later," Blanche said. "Meanwhile, why don't you get out of your pants and 
join us?" 

"I thought you wanted me to watch?" 

"Oh, that's right... but if you want... feel free." 

Feeling free he was, and his rapidly swelling penis below was wanting just 
that-freedom! The two voluptuously naked women were facing each other now, 
lying on their sides, their full firm breasts mashing together, and below, 
he saw their thighs, straining against each other, Blanche's brown haired 
triangle rubbing in eager little circles against the burnt orange curling 
hair of Sondra's loins, whose sleekly curving thighs were spread slightly, 
allowing Blanche's thigh to slide up between them. Damn! Maybe they're both 
horny and this lesbian act is just a way of getting me in on the act...? 
Orin was still dubious. God knows what excites women these days... 

The women's mouths melded together in a deep tongue-jousting kiss, and he 
noted both had closed their eyes while their hands roamed caressing over the 
naked contours of each other's body. He could take only a minute more before 
he tore off his pants and jumped down on the floor with them. Forgotten was 
Mona, his little 'Bunny,' and fidelity. This was the stuff day dreams were 
made of, and who was he to turn and run in the face of a feast like this, 
especially with a personal invitation? 

Standing by a folded up ironing board, Orin stripped off his pants, sweater 
and shirt in record speed and draped it over the board, his rock-hard penis 
standing up at forty-five degree angle. He crawled down on the makeshift 
love bed seemed made just for him, his itching hands reaching out to begin a 
caressing exploration of each woman's satin-smooth, warmly vibrant bodies. 

Their kiss broke momentarily, as Blanche looked up at him through smoke-grey 
eyes and murmured; "Ready now?" 

"Damned right I am!" Orin blurted, asserting his masculinity which was 
something he hadn't done since he'd broken Mona's cherry on their wedding 
night and made such a mess on the hotel sheets he couldn't forgive himself 
for such brutishness; since then he'd softened his caresses... maybe too 
much. But hell, these women were the devil's mistresses... nothing virginal 
about them! 

"Does the name Hugh Murphy mean anything to you?" Sondra asked, reaching out 
a hand to him. Orin shook his head, tired of questions. "He's my husband." 

He pressed up close to Sondra, and she began fondling his painfully 
pulsating cock, her gentle fingers moving along its thick length 
appreciatively. "And Blanche's husband is the credit manager of the store." 

"You're both married!" 

"No problem," giggled Blanche reassuringly. "They don't know." 

Orin was wary as a cornered mouse now; he couldn't divine these women's 
motives, but he was so damned heated up down there between his legs, he 
couldn't walk off. Besides, Sondra's hand was caressing him in a very tender 
spot right now. "Relax, Orin darling," she murmured. "You know, you're cute. 
You should grow a mustache. I love to feel mustaches tickling my pussy!" 

...Then, Blanche was moving up to her knees and reversing her sensually 
naked body, forcing Orin to move aside as she threw one leg over Sondra's 
head to straddle her in the classic sixty-nine position; then spreading her 
firm satiny thighs, she lowered her hair-fringed pink pussy down over the 
redhead's face. As Orin watched open-mouthed, the blood pounding in his ears 
on the return trip from his blood-fed cock and he saw Sondra's pink tongue 
snake out sinuously between her lips and lick up toward the coral-pinkness 
of the cunt hovering above her head. "Christ!" he breathed, as his cock 
jerked. He would have loved to be doing that himself! 

Sondra's faintly quivering thighs were spread wide, and Blanche's head 
slowly lowered down between them while Orin shifted his gaze to watch. He 
saw her tongue lash out to bury itself in the wetly glistening vaginal slit 
and as Sondra shivered with lewd delight, Orin heard mewling, humming sounds 
rumbling from their throats mingling with the obscene sucking noises of 
tongue-fucking. Hell! They were literally all wrapped up in each other, and 
what could he do but caress their bodies? 

His hand went out between the two soft, warm bodies, first to the kneeling 
Blanche's, where he fondled her dangling breasts and dug his fingers into 
the buttery flesh, cupping them up and rolling the nipples between his thumb 
and forefinger. Seeing that he was free to use both hands, he slid his other 
hand up over Sondra's tautly rippling belly to her bosom to knead and caress 
her swollen breasts. He felt a pearl of pre-cum ooze ominously, and he 
feared he wouldn't make it through the first round without blowing it right 
down into the pillow. Concern about how to divide up his attentions worried 
him. It's impossible! I'll have to fuck one, and then the other... that 
means I have to hold back until the second one's ready to cum. 

It sounded awfully complicated... 

Now the two women were wildly grinding their wetly glistening pussies into 
each other's faces, and their breathing was raspy and wild. Christ, they 
might cum any second! Apparently, they realized it, too, for Blanche was 
struggling to push Sondra's savagely writhing cunt up away from her mouth 
and making strangling noises in her throat. 

Finally Blanche raised her head from Sondra's crying pussy, her lips 
glistening moistly from the perfumed lubricants. She muttered, "It was so 
good... I almost forgot about Orin, and I want to finish up by being fucked 
by this gentle, kind man... isn't his prick gorgeous, Sondra'?" 

Her eyes were riveted on his massive penis as she straightened herself 
around on the floor and lay back nakedly supine on the pillows, her thighs 
spreading wide in an obscene invitation to be fucked. "Come on... stick that 
beautiful cock in me, NOW!" 

Orin obediently crawled in between her thighs and started to lower himself 
between them, when Sondra gasped out her objections. "NO! Why do you get 
him? I've got to have it... right now!" 

"Christ," Orin moaned unhappily, worried he might either. "I can only handle 
one at a time." 

Beneath him, Blanche was reaching down between their naked bodies to tightly 
grasp his ready cock, and with a deftly expert hand, she guided it to the 
heated opening of her seething pussy; then, without warning, she arched her 
back and bucked up against him to force his lust-swollen bloated cock head 
just inside her hotly throbbing cunt. 

"Too bad, Sondra! I've got him in me already!" Blanche purred triumphantly, 
as her satiny hips undulated up to him to absorb more of his male flesh. 
"You can finger yourself darling... while you wait!" 

Orin couldn't wait! His charging cock was already , half-buried in Blanche's 
tight cunt and with a quick thrust of his hips, he drove his penis deep into 
her, feeling the flutterings of the secretary's interior vaginal muscles all 
along his thick, throbbing length. Nothing short of death could stop him 
now! He fucked in and out of her heated pussy with a smooth, steady beat, 
hoping that could bring her to orgasm without cumming himself. Hell... what 
a predicament! Choosing between two sexually aroused and bickering women was 
not his idea. 

"No! Wait!" Sondra cried frantically, resting her cheek down on the pillow 
so that she could talk to both of them. "Listen! Orin can fuck both of us at 
the same time! It's a weird position I learned in a San Francisco Chinatown 
opium den. Listen to me! I was pretty loaded at the time, but I think I 
remember how it works." 

Even though Blanche's rapidly rippling cuntal muscles were massaging his 
cock to the exploding point, Orin, good patient Orin, listened. "How does it 
work...? I've only got one cock, you know!" 

"Stop, so I can show you!" Sondra's voice was urgent and her hand stole down 
to her wetly throbbing pussy where she used her finger to give her clitoris 
a few polishing strokes. "Oh, please stop...! We can do it!" 

Orin stopped humping, deeply affected by this woman's urgent need, her 
sobbing cry for fulfillment... to be included in the grande finale. 

Blanche made a fuss. "Oh, God, Orin... keep fucking me! This was my idea, 
Sondra!" she spat vitriolically, her pointed fingernails clamped down on his 
naked 

buttocks, pulling him deeper into her, while her hips did a Mexican jumping 
bean dance, slamming up against his hairy thatch. Then she pulled her knees 
up until her thighs were pressing hard against the pliant mounds of her 
breasts, now lightly dewed with the sweat of her arousal arousal. "Oh, God 
fuck me harder!" 

"Come on, let's try it," suggested Orin, taking command. "I've never fucked 
two women at once and I want to see how it works." He raised himself up on 
his hands and knees, pulling his long lubricant-slick penis out of Blanche's 
pussy with a sucking noise. He didn't want to stop any more than she wanted 
him to, but in all fairness, they had to include Sondra. Futilely, the 
whining Blanche loosened her hold on him and he pulled himself clear of her 
grasping hand and writhing hips to growl, "Okay, Sondra, get on with the 
lessons!" 

Mewling joyously, Sondra was quick to obey. "It's simple, really." Facing 
Orin, she slowly sat on the nakedly trembling breasts of Blanche beneath so 
that her openly spread vagina was directly above that of the boss' wife 
below. 

Orin's mechanical mind perceived the machinations immediately and he crawled 
in between both women's widely parted thighs, as Sondra pulled her knees up 
and spread her legs even wider, a painless position for an ex-Las Vegas 
chorus girl. Looking down, Orin took in the twin, wetly waiting pussies, one 
above the other, only a couple of inches apart. Sandra's red haired cunt, 
its pink inner layers flowered open to receive his lurching penis, 
contrasting sharply with the brown, softly curling tendrils of Blanche's 
moist and crying cunt. 

"Christ!" he exploded deliriously. "The Chinese got it all over us 
Westerners!" 

"Come on, Orin... this is no culture class. Fuck us! First stick your cock 
in me... then pull it out all the way and fuck it into Blanche's pussy... 
then back and forth between us!" Sondra panted in lustful anticipation. 

"Oh, God, Orinnnn! Hurry up and fuck us!" seconded Blanche pathetically. 

With an ecstatic willingness born of the erotically mind-boggling spectacle 
of two soft warm cunts waiting hungrily there for his painfully throbbing 
cock to fuck them, Orin slammed his hips forward and drove his long hard 
penis straight into Sondra's pussy, boring deep and hard, and feeling her 
hot inner walls cling to him as his lust-incited cock's head flickered past 
her cervix and struck the far back wall of her cuntal sheath. Pulling his 
madly pulsating cock all the way out of her churning pussy, he tilted his 
hips downward slightly and sunk again into Blanche's seething vagina. All 
three moaned in a chorus of wanton delight. 

Then Orin began to alternate, driving first upward into Sondra above, then 
downward into Blanche below. After several thrusts he began fucking each of 
them more deeply. Orin was like a child with a new toy, feeling the 
differences between their wet cunts, closing hiss eyes now and then and 
guessing which was which. 

A deep-throated moan came from Blanche as her hands came up between Sondra's 
arms to cup the firmly bouncing mounds of her breasts; she caressed them and 
rolled her coned-out nipples to harder buttons. Sondra shivered and moaned 
in lewd delight and Orin watched the redhead kiss her husband's secretary's 
neck. 

"Oh, Ooohhh, Ooooohhh!" Blanche mewled. "It's beautiful! Oh, my God, fuck me 
harrrrder!" 

Slaving away above them, Orin tried! GOD, HOW HE TRIED! He slammed his 
thick, lust-hardened cock alternately into each of their grinding cunts, 
like nickels into slot machines, knowing that odds and their wild excitement 
would land the jackpot in one of their cunts! Who would he be inside of when 
his spewing, mind-blowing orgasm hit, when the acid-like burn of it scalded 
his manhood clear down to the hairy trunk of his cock! 

Blanche came first! "Ooooohhh IIII'mmmm cummming!" Her scream rattled the 
tackboard walls. Her naked, young body below convulsed, long legs thrashing, 
and she thrust her quivering cunt up at his thick impaling shaft with such 
fury that she lifted Sondra and Orin completely off the floor. He rammed 
into her deeply then withdrew to fuck his penis into Sondra's wildly 
clasping cunt above. In the next instant, he was stroking into Blanche's 
softly heated, spongy flesh and she moaned: "Oh, God, Orin! Shove your prick 
in me... just a couple more time I'm... ohhhh!" 

He did. And she did... cum. He stayed right there with her, punching his 
lurching cock into her and she came a second time with an unearthly, banshee 
shriek that sent the ironing board crashing against their feet. 
"AAAaaauuugghhh!" 

Quickly, he slipped from Blanche's frantically entrapping pussy and thrust 
it upward, deep into Sondra's hungry pussy above, where with several 
non-stop jarring strokes, he brought the redhead to the brink of her 
release. 

"Oh, that's it! Orin... you annnngel! I'm cummmming!" 

As Sondra convulsed, legs flopping out to her sides and her eyes swimming 
unseeingly while delicious waves of relaxing muscle-spasms surged through 
her nakedly orgasming body. 

Damn! Both of them! They both came! Orin felt like pounding himself on the 
chest. Closing his limpid blue eyes, he let go and his wildly jerking cock 
pumped deliciously as his white hot semen hosed through the nine inches of 
his still thrusting penis to jet from the tiny slit in its tip. Satisfied 
sexually... and intensely pleased with himself, he enjoyed the ecstatic 
sensation of his sperm jetting deep into Sondra's nibbling pussy. 

"God that was something else!" 

He forewent the desire to collapse on top of them, his added weight would be 
too much for Blanche on the bottom. Reluctantly he pulled his flaccid penis 
from Sondra's nibbling pussy with a lewd wet sucking sound and rolled to his 
side. Now Orin lay between them. 

Her breathing back to normal, Blanche reached out to caress Orin's hairy 
chest and murmured, "You're quite a man!" 

He accepted the compliment demurely; now that his body was satisfied, his 
mind was looking for some answers... what had his wife to do with all of 
this craziness? 

Sondra echoed Blanche's applause: "Orin, thank you," she gushed throatily. 

With false modesty, Orin shrugged off the compliment. "Hell... how often do 
I get to fuck such beautiful women... at the same time!" 

Unexpectedly his eyebrows knitted together: "Tell me where the hell my wife 
fits into this?" 

A moment of silence prevailed; finally Blanche opened up. "We thought this a 
good way for all three of us to get even with our spouses..." 

"All of us?" Orin looked askance. "Sorry, but I don't understand. What have 
I to get even with Mona for?" 

Sondra tutted, losing her patience. "You mean you didn't know she's been 
balling my husband and Blanche's too?" 

"No! God damn it! Not Mona... not my Bunny!" His anger was quick and raging 
within him! 

"Why would we lie to you?" put in Blanche. 

"I'll be a sonofabitch! How did those bastards get to her?" he grated. 

"Seems she lied on a credit application and they threatened to turn her over 
to the police... something, too, about you losing your service station...?" 
Murphy's secretary explained. 

"That goddamned sunlamp!" muttered Orin. 

"...Her husband passed Mona over to my husband, and..." 

"I'll knock her goddamned head off." 

Blanche tutted. "Just like a man! You haven't exactly been saying your 
prayers in the past half hour." 

"Yeah, but now what...?" 

Blanche was pulling on her robe. "I suggest you keep a closer eye on her 
until we dig ourselves out of this damned department store." 

 Chapter Eight 

The restaurant clock read five o'clock as Mona sat at a small table in the 
back of the Green Leaf Tea Room, a tea bag into her steaming cup, a circle 
of laughing canasta players encircling her on all sides. Claustrophobia and 
guilt trapped her too, and she would have stayed down in the housewares 
storeroom had it not been for that infernal little mouse nibbling away at 
the cardboard boxes. Her sugar laden teaspoon poised in mid-air, she looked 
up to see Orin's tall frame sauntering under the trellis rimmed with 
artificial roses at the hostess station. Even at that distance, Mona 
discerned an unusual flush to his cheeks, and a determined gait. 

"Surprised to find you alone," he said bluntly, pulling up a chair, 
something in his uncharacteristically commanding demeanor making Mona 
shiver. 

"Wh-what's that supposed to mean...?" she flushed with apprehension. 

"It means, my dear wife... that I know you've been getting yourself laid 
while the rest of us mope around this department store!" he rasped out at 
her. 

"Be quiet, Orin, so nobody hears. That's not true, Orin," she lied through 
her clenched teeth. "I love only you!" she sobbed. 

"What about Hugh Murphy and Nick Harrington? 

The two names stabbed out at her and she felt as if someone had stuck her in 
the guts with a knife. "Oh, God!" How did he find out? 

"Don't lie to me, Mona," he pursued grimly. "Don't you want to know how I 
found out?" 

Mona fought back tears, certain now that he would leave her... ask for a 
divorce, but nothing would force her to admit he was right. "There's nothing 
to find out... be-because I didn't do anything!" 

"Mona, you've never lied to me." His eyes leveled and bored into her 
downcast ones. "Their wives told me... and do you want to know something 
else?" He didn't wait for her answer. He plunged in the knife when he said 
gloatingly, "They threw themselves at me... to get even with their 
husbands... and I fucked them both... at the same time. What do you think of 
that, Mona?" 

Mona couldn't believe her ears. Orin? My Orin did something nasty like that? 
"H-How! I don't understand." 

"I don't know how they found out," he growled. He leaned over the table and 
spat, "Didn't you hear what I said? I fucked them both at the same time. 
Aren't you going to ask any questions about that!" 

"No!" flared Mona. "Don't be so crass!" She turned her head to see two 
canasta players perk up their ears. 

"How does it feel to know I've cheated on you? Not very much fun, is it?" he 
blasted, and from there he proceeded to shower her with details of his 
sexual encounter with the naked nymphs in the pressing room. Mona found 
herself becoming aroused, as his unbelievable tale churned on. Finally, when 
he finished, Mona snuggled her chair up close and ran her hand over his 
thigh. 

"Darling, why don't we go upstairs to our little home away from home and 
make up, Orin?" 

Orin banged his fist on the table. "Sure, now that you've had your fun you 
want to forget it. Well, let me tell you something. I'm ready to get laid by 
those two luscious women again. I don't forgive and forget that easily... 
and I'm gonna make damned sure you don't go bouncing from one hot bed to 
another!" 

Mona's spirits fell with the temperature outside. Her overtures were spurned 
hideously and his blatant unfairness bothered her. 

"...But you're blaming me... and then doing the same thing. That doesn't 
make sense!" she tried to reason. 

For the remaining six hours they stayed awake on that thirtieth of December 
Orin would not let Mona out of sight. Exhausted, Mona reticently curled up 
in bed, sleeping poorly plagued with bad dreams, longing for Orin's lengthy 
arm to hug her close. 

When they awoke that morning, the air was crisp as a bite into a cold, green 
apple and over the intercom thundered an announcement from fourth floor 
headquarters: 

"We regret to inform our store patrons that our heating system is 
malfunctioning. There will be no heat in the store for the time being. We 
advise people and children to bundle up in blankets from our linen 
department on the first floor... I'm sure you've all found it by now. 
Camping lanterns will be furnished for safety and warmth his evening." 

Mona looked at Orin and shivered with rattling teeth. "We... we might freeze 
to death before you have a chance to divorce me." 

Orin rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Now don't start blaming me... you're the one 
who started this mess that damned sunlamp. Next time I'll think twice before 
I give you what you want." 

Words between them were monosyllabic and few that afternoon. While Orin and 
Dan played gin rummy in the third floor smoker, Mona lounged r reading 
Cosmopolitan magazine, Orin looking up from his card hand to cast her an 
accusing glance with every turn of the page. He didn't say anything, he just 
glared at her with that stony stare. 

By that evening, food rations had slimmed down to dietetic tidbits and the 
first twinges of real panic set in. It hit some harder than others: The fat 
bellied little lady who'd been seen stuffing her mouth with gourmet shoppe 
delights, and draping her body in see-through lingerie, sat at a corner 
table frowning over a bowl of cold soup. 

The fifty-odd stranded storm victims gathered solemnly in the tea room... 
some playing cards to fend off hunger, others chatting amicably, exchanging 
stories, when suddenly the lights died. A scream of terror rippled through 
the crowd. 

"Oh, God, the power's off! We're going to die!" screamed a particularly 
anxious woman, ripe with child. 

"Some New Year's Eve this turned out to be," mumbled Mona, washing down a 
Nesbitt cracker with a sip of cold tea. 

"Nobody panic!" It was Dan, the armed guard, standing up on a chair in a 
Statue of Liberty pose, brandishing a flaming Bic lighter. "Don't anybody 
panic! Nothing can happen if we stay calm." He remembered his two day 
security guard training course on crowd control when he told them to finish 
eating and prepare for the night, following it up with a positive weather 
report. "Radio says it's supposed to stop snowing tomorrow." 

Anybody who knew Dan personably believed him reliable: He carried a 
transistor radio like most cops carry guns. "Tomorrow we'll be home to our 
families and loved ones." 

A combined sigh of relief and loved-starved murmurs rippled through the 
crowd. "If we all stay in the same room, we can't freeze to death. Our body 
heat will keep us warm." A few giggles rose; it wasn't difficult to pick out 
the singles in the crowd. 

Following Dan's directions, the buzzing, hustling, shuffling crowd followed 
the leader down to the basement's camping department where one hundred hands 
snatched down sleeping bags and camping lanterns. Like the blind leading the 
blind, they held hands and inched their way up to the fourth floor, which in 
the next hour turned into an indoor camp ground; replete with tents pitched 
from king-sized sheets and burning lanterns dangling from branches of pole 
lamps. Spirits seemed to brighten despite the ludicrous disaster, and when 
one of the teenage boys suggested a few cases of champagne to celebrate New 
Year, nobody objected. 

Dumbfounded, half frightened and bewildered, the Bradley's listened to the 
fracas, separated from their bed by the escalator dividing children's from 
the adult's furniture. In moments, the boys' lanterns flickered up the 
escalator and a scraping of cardboard boxes announced the arrival of liquid 
spirits. 

"Happy New Year!" the youth bellowed and popped a champagne cork which was 
the first in the gatling-gun rupture of popping corks, and the shimmer of 
glass reflected in lamp light flickered from hand to hand as the bottles 
made the rounds. Somebody snuck down to the third floor and threaded a tape 
of disco music and set it ablast on volume ten on the battery operated 
boombox speakers. 

Mona, head banging against the bedstead from the bass drum beat, peeked her 
head out of the roof of covers and looked around at what resembled a 1960's 
outdoor rock concert. 

Everybody joined in a toast to the New Year... jumping on beds and dancing 
on them, fears and defenses shed in a wild moment of celebration. 

"Really, Orin, it is New Year's Eve. Why do we have to be miserable? Let's 
go join them for a glass of champagne." complained Mona who loved parties 
and dancing. 

"No!" 

"Why?" 

"Because you'll end up in somebody's bed, that's why!" 

"Orin! For god sakes, at least let me go grab another blanket from an empty 
bed... I'm freezing to death." When he said nothing, she blasted, "Oh, I 
see... then you won't need a divorce." 

Gripping her arm angrily, Orin hissed back, menacingly. "Don't get smart 
with me Mona. You're just lucky I haven't smacked you in the jaw!" 

"Orin... I'm freezing... I mean it! I'll be right back." 

"When he released her, Mona was so terribly frightened, that she scuttled 
away from him and darted into the darkness, winding her way through the mass 
of merry-making humanity, searching for a blanket. This was the first time, 
since she'd known Orin, that he had actually threatened her with violence. 
Remembering the grim anger in his usually kind eyes, she dabbed at her own. 

Around her everyone was kissing and holding each other, making warm body 
contact after two days of frozen loneliness. It turned into musical arms 
with faceless strangers in that blackened room, lit only by the fracturing 
beams of glaring lantern light. Five people joined hands in a circle dance, 
a circle that grew hand by hand until the fourth floor became a square dance 
hall of stomping feet and singing voices, swirling and twirling together 
drunkenly like so many whirling dervishes rejoicing over the mysteries of 
the universe under a full moon. Shoes flew off kicking feet, and in the 
heart of the foray a shirt lost a button and was tugged off, dripping with 
perspiration. 

 * * * * * 

 In Hugh Murphy's inner office, sealed off and lit by lanterns, heated by 
camp stoves, Nick Harrington and his boss sat sipping champagne cooled on a 
window ledge. In their midst was Dan, making his hourly report on the 
restless natives raising havoc. 

"Go ahead, let them have their party," offered Hugh generously. "We'll have 
one of our own." 

"But Jesus, Mr. Murphy, they're wrecking the store... tearing it up!" Dan 
was fearful of losing his job. 

"Hell, insurance pays for that." Murphy turned to his accountant, James 
Alabaster, a little eunuch of a man who'd been hidden away in his office, 
nose in the books sorting out inventory figures, working night and day, 
ignorant of the white-out until his naked light bulb flickered and died. 
Spending New Year's Eve with his mother was no fun, so what reason had he to 
complain, if he couldn't get home? 

"That's right. We'll have to cover the deductible, though," he answered in 
his chirping voice. "Can we have a girl now?" he asked, anxious for the 
reward 

promised him if he could straighten out inventory. 

"Sure, James." Hugh emptied his champagne glass and turning to Nick said; 
"Go get her. Drag her by the hair if you have to. Little James here deserves 
something nice for straightening out our books." 

"Goodie, goodie!" James clapped his hands together. "What does she look 
like?" 

"You'll love her... she's got blonde hair and the prettiest tan this side of 
Hawaii." 

Dan started to rise and turned pale. Good Christ... that's gin rummy Orin's 
wife! 

 Chapter Nine 

"Happy New Year's Eve, Mona... glad you could make it," Hugh Murphy greeted 
at the door, drink in hand. "Now I'd like you to meet our friends. You 
already know Nick Harrington..." 

Mona glowered at the credit manager, lounging at ease in his chair sipping 
champagne, his jacket and tie off already. God, him again? Hugh followed her 
gaze to a runt of a man whose short legs dangled from the chair, feet not 
touching the ground. 

"This is James, our accountant, you know Dan, the security guard." 

Four? Four of them? My God! No! NO! Her mind refused to accept it. She could 
have screamed... but she doubted it would do any good... 

And later on we may have a mystery guest!" Hugh talked as the champagne 
poured. 

Mona felt faint. "Do you mean... there's going to be five of you? Who are 
going to... 

"To fuck you. Yes, that's right, Mona! I'm sure you'll have no trouble. That 
hot pussy of yours could handle ten on a Sunday morning." 

Mona shuddered at the lewd compliment, too bizarre to consider. "You're nuts 
if you think that I'll agree to this!" 

"You don't have a choice!" He was right, for already Nick's boney hands were 
undressing her, layer by layer. Hugh's eyes bored into her and the 
commanding figure he struck caused her to obey. He stripped her down to her 
brassiere and panties and took them off too. Amid obscene comments from the 
four men in the room, she looked around dazedly to see them crowding around 
her and reaching out to fondle her naked breasts, tweaking her nipples and 
fluffing her pubic curls. When her eyes fell on Dan, the armed guard, she 
gave out a scream of dismay. The double crosser...! 

Gorgeous piece of ass, isn't she?" crooned Murphy. 

"Damned right!" Dan, feeling a bit guilty and pale, knowing better than to 
turn down Murphy's favors, had to agree, and reached out to touch his gin 
rummy partner's wife's left breast. 

Naked in the midst of four virile, (well, three really...) turned-on men, 
she glanced around at them, seeing the lewd desire in their burning eyes and 
the massive bulges in their pants. Ohhhh, my God! They're serious! They're 
going to d-do it to m-me! All four of them! 

"You can't... you can't do this to me!" 

"The hell we can't!" Hugh said acidly. He nodded towards Nick who stepped to 
the door and locked it. Dazedly, Mona looked around the room, splattered 
with lantern light, and saw that the pull-out sofa had been disassembled, 
the mattress placed on the floor. 

The mathematical genius who'd twice saved Hugh Murphy from the IRS, set his 
drink aside and came to Mona, his little eyes filled with raw lust, and he 
took her into his tiny arms, pressing her close, chin meeting chin, until 
the warmth of his throbbing erection was tight against her belly. He ran his 
hands down her back and his fingers dug into the pliant softness of her 
buttocks. "Yes, she is something else," he murmured. Mona stood stiffly, 
refusing to respond. 

James was walking her backwards, now, her bare feet sliding reluctantly 
across the carpet until the backs of her ankles touched the mattress on the 
floor. The pudgy little man pushed her lush young body down onto the 
mattress and stepped back to strip down to his birthday suit to reveal his 
long, thin and slightly curving penis lancing out from the black curls of 
his pubic hair. At least I'll be done with the smallest one first... she 
thought with relief. 

"Of course!" Nick Harrington responded. Then, to the other three, he 
observed. "She'll be a hell of a lay with a little booze in her." 

Hugh growled, "Hell, she's stalling!" He reached for her and stretched her 
out beside him on the mattress, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss, his 
tongue stabbing at her throat. 

A knock sounded at the door and Nick hastened to see who it was. A muffled 
conversation took place and Nick unlatched the door, a tall handsome man 

brushing past him. 

"In time for goodies, Ralph," greeted Nick with a smirk. 

Mona didn't notice the newcomer, too absorbed was she in the hands prying 
her clamped-together legs apart and caressing their inner softness with 
fingers running all the way upward between her spread legs to play in the 
golden curls for a moment, before an out-stretched finger slipped down into 
the warm cuntal slit to tickle the already hardening bud of her clitoris. 
She was pretty sure it was the fat little man stimulating her there. Then, 
another pair of hands was cupping and fondling her swollen breasts on the 
opposite side from Hugh. The fingers dug into the tender softness like 
kneading bread dough, and she winced. The fingers relaxed; a man's hot 
mouth, smelling of champagne was down there now, sucking hard on the brown 
button of her nipple, sending quivering chills of white hot lust through her 
nakedness. God, it as a repeat of yesterday, only multiplied by two. 

"I've got her drink here," Harrington said solicitously. "So how about 
letting her up long enough drink it?" 

"Drink it yourself, Harrington. We're busy now!" James Alabaster sneered, 
and it was evident, even to Mona, that, that ingenious midget was the brains 
and moneymaker behind Josephs' Department Store. 

Mona struggled to free her lips from Hugh's possessive, livery mouth. After 
a few grunts, she gasped, "I want that drink, Nick! Give me that drink" She 
tried to sit up. 

Hugh tried to stop her, but finally gave up. "Alright, slut! Slug it down 
then... so we can get on with some fucking!" 

The beautiful young wife sat up dazedly, surrounded by five naked men, and 
accepting the champagne from Nick, she drank it greedily. Amid ribald 
remarks and impatient, fondling hands, Mona drained the champagne, thankful 
for its numbness. As Nick took the glass from her hand, James Alabaster 
grunted in a voice that sounded like a 33 record player on 78 RPMs. The two 
men glared at each other for a moment in a fight for power. "Does she suck 
cock, Mr. Murphy?" 

"...But I-I..." 

"She does whatever she's told to," beamed Nick. "She sure as hell does!" 

"And she will!" added Hugh. 

Alabaster stretched his short torso back on the mattress with a lewd grin. 
"Well...?" he questioned. 

"Okay, baby, you heard the accountant... crawl over there between his legs 
and get started!" 

Mona shot him a malevolent glance, but obeyed, nakedly crouching down 
between James' thick thighs, she reached out for the long, skinny shaft of 
his cock grasped it and hesitantly lowered her head to it. 

Moving his bear-like body in behind her kneeling nakedness, Hugh rasped out, 
"Quit stalling... Or I'll give you some incentive strokes across the 
backside. Get to sucking!" 

Repulsed and goosebumped with fright, the housewife worked the loose 
foreskin back and forth a couple of times before taking his throbbing 
boy-sized cock head into her wetly ovaled lips. Remembering her first lesson 
with Nick, she used her tongue swirlingly all around the smooth rubbery head 
of it, and was rewarded with a deep moan. Down on all fours, Mona bobbed her 
head up and down like a crazy jumping jack, working her tongue over his 
glistening shaft. 

"Christ!" Ralph, the salesman from the men's department complained. "I wish 
she was sucking my cock!" 

"Hang on, fellow. This is your Christmas bonus. Everybody gets a crack at 
this hussy." 

Flanked by Ralph on one side, and Dan on the other, she felt their hands 
caressing and exploring her naked young body, cupping and fondling her 
heavily swaying breasts while fingers traced the coconut tan lines striping 
her body where her bikini once hugged. Behind her, the unmistakable presence 
of Hugh's big body was leaning over her, kissing her back, beginning up near 
her shoulders and moving downward, trailing his hot licking tongue down her 
spine. In spite of her disgust, the soft wet kisses made her shiver with 
unwanted delight as his tongue progressed on down, down, and down with 
inexorable slowness. 

As James flexed his hips to drive his scalding penis up farther into her 
sucking mouth, Mona began absorbing more of his long thin seldom-used penis, 
letting it worm down her throat. The anesthetizing affects of the champagne 
had numbed her throat to all discomfort, and his skinny manhood caused no 
pain as it jabbed half way down to her esophagus. Closing her eyes, she 
began hollowing her cheeks to exert more sucking pressure, while she twisted 
her head slightly, her tongue swishing around the baby-mushroom head on each 
outstroke. To guide her movements, her other hand shot down to fondle his 
sperm-bloated chestnut-sized testicles. 

Behind her, Hugh was working his way down to Mona's soft buttocks, while his 
hammy hands dug into the satiny, smooth flesh, his fingers prying her ass 
cheeks apart at the crevice, and his tongue pressuring downward until it 
licked at the brown eye of her rectum. 

Cringing away from his velvety tongue at its first salacious contact, Mona 
was shocked by his audaciously obscene stimulation down there, but as erotic 
sensations continued to crackle through her, sparking her clear to the 
bellybutton, she wriggled back against his bloated face, struggling to wedge 
her legs wider apart, opening up a bigger playground for his searching 
tongue. Mona's better senses were lost to her sensuous ones and what it was 
she craved in these men, ribald and sexually demented, though they be, she 
couldn't decipher. I'm putty in their hands! 

Dan on one side of her was sliding his hand down over her belly, forcing 
aside the reality that this was his gin rummy partner's wife whose belly 
button he was tickling; and as Hugh, behind her, let his mouth drift 
downward, until his long licking tongue lashed deep into the now seething 
portal of her eagerly throbbing cunt, Dan slipped his middle finger into the 
moist trap of her pussy slit, crying for attention and teased her clitoral 
bud with an erotic, maddening stroke. Mona's hips started moving as if 
strapped into a vibrator, undulating against both Hugh's wet tongue and 
Dan's finger-fucking. God! It feels so good... all those hands on me at 
once! I-I can't help it! 

James Alabaster writhed in lewd delight beneath her vacuum-cleaner mouth, 
and his now expanding cock lurching involuntarily as the glistening shaft 
moved smoothly in and out like a greased piston between her nibbling, 
tightly ovaled lips. 

"Ohhhh, you're so pretty. Now crawl up here on top of me and finish me off," 
he chortled. 

Deferentially, Dan and Ralph on either side of her slid away, waiting their 
turn, aware of the corporate pecking order that was always in force in Hugh 
Murphy's loosely woven and strangely coupled organization. Mona balked. It 
was one thing for her to remain passive... to let them do with her as they 
pleased, because she was alone in her fight, it was another thing for her to 
be a willing martyr. 

Behind her, Hugh withdrew his slithering tongue from her seeping cunt and 
barked: "Damn it, Mona, the man's been working for two day straight! Get 
your ass up there and start fucking him!" 

Murphy's rumbling, commanding voice galvanized Mona into action and with 
trembling limbs, she crawled up timidly over James' blubbery hips, 
straddling him without being ordered, her tiny hand guided the hard wiener 
of his impatiently throbbing cock between her swollen pussy lips. Afraid she 
might crush this dwarfish man, she lowered herself onto his jutting erection 
and felt it slide smoothly up into her cunt, the rubbery cock head not quite 
reaching her sensitive cervix that tickled with lust. She paused to adjust 
herself, but the naked little man beneath her was in a hurry, his hips 
bucking eagerly, smacking into her pelvic bone. 

"You've got a nice pussy," he complimented in a crackling voice. 

A spark of sympathy for the love-starved man whispered through Mona's loins 
and she began to rock back and forward on him, raising her body and lowering 
it to drive his penis in and out of her sucking cuntal sheath. James 
ink-stained fingers reached up to 

the full moons of her ripely swaying breasts and massaged them in tempo with 
her smoothly pumping hips. For the time being, the other four voyeurs could 
do little but watch as Mona's nakedly grinding buttock moved at a faster 
speed at James' urging, as he put his hands on her waist and pumped her up 
and down. Mona leaned forward slightly and James pulled her down to his 
hairless chest, her smoothly rounded buttocks still waving defenselessly 
high in the air behind her as she slaved away at fucking the accountant of 
Joseph's Department Store. 

Her hands had fluttered free, and seeing his chance. Ralph slid over close, 
his flagpole cock dripping with pre-cum, he grasped her hand and wrapped it 
around his cock and flexed his hips in a masturbatory dance of lust. 

Hugh took his cue and moved in close behind Mona, watching with dribbling 
awe as her wetly pumping pussy slid up and down the beanpole shaft of James' 
cock. Reaching out, he again caressed the satiny warmth of her plump 
buttocks, reveling in the feel of her ass muscles rippling under his strong 
hands. Inspiration struck and he lubricated his middle finger with saliva 
and pushed it against the brown button of her defenseless anus, remarking to 
no one in particular: "This ought to speed things up a little!" 

Mona cringed from his evil intent and clenched her buttocks tight together 
in a feeble attempt to ward him off. In the next breath, she felt Hugh's 
thick finger enter her puckering anus and thrust with one smooth stroke into 
her quivering rectum. She moaned with the pain of it and emitted an 
involuntary cry of, "Oh... please, don't!" 

Her answer was an obscene chuckle from Hugh, as he moved the finger in and 
out of the hot sponginess of her rectum, countering her even fucking 
movements up and down James' hardness. 

Beneath her, exhausted from lack of sleep, his nerves ready to fire from his 
delicious fucking, he felt the bulging intrusion of the thin separating 
tissues that rubbed directly along the sensitive underside of his penis, 
intensifying the fantastically exciting feeling of her tight cunt, and knew 
he would be cumming in a matter of minutes. Writhing his pudgy hips, he 
bucked up against her pelvic bones as he felt the signaling jerks of his 
coming ejaculation, "Agh! Ag AAAaaaauuuggh!" he groaned loudly as his penis 
exploded, jetting his hot sperm up into her milking pussy. He stopped 
moving, holding himself rigid as jerking cock pumped it from him; he tried 
to grab her rotating hips and hold her still. "That's it! Stop now! Damn 
it!" 

But Mona had no intentions of stopping now! Her pulsating pussy felt stroked 
so beautifully and her climax was only one pet away. God! I could cum in 
fifteen seconds! She realized what he was saying and realized, painfully, 
that his cock was softening, no longer filling her. In the next instant, she 
felt herself being lifted and rolled bodily, as Hugh behind her, ripped his 
thick finger from her rectum and hauled her nakedly resisting body from on 
top of James. Her fingers tore from Ralph's pulsating penis as Hugh turned 
her expertly over on her back and eased his burly body down between her 
widespread thighs, dribbling with James' still warm sperm. 

 * * * * * 

 Orin Bradley lay under the cotton roof of blankets watching with mixed 
incredulity and envy as the storm victims swiveled, kicking legs and waving 
arms to the disco beat of the Bee Gees blasting from the third floor stereo 
department... "Stayin' alive... stayin' alive..." 

Obviously heat was no problem for them; across the escalator he could see in 
the glaring lantern light the fleshy shimmer of naked chests shiny with 
perspiration... and more than one bouncing pair of breasts had popped free 
of a neckline. 

"Like a bunch of gypsies gone berserk," grumbled Orin, tucking the blanket 
up under his quivering chin, and wiggling his icy toes to make sure they 
were still there. Mona... where the hell is Mona and that extra blanket? His 
fingers reached over and touched the cold metal of his watch sitting on the 
nightstand under the clown clock. He held it up, squinting. The bitch has 
been gone for over half an hour! Now how could he excuse her for that? 

Snarling with rage, he threw back the covers, stomped into his shoes and 
watching his breath steam in the cold bitter darkness of despair, he threw 
on his clothes, shirt tail hanging out. This is it... enough of this messin' 
around! 

Blanche and Sondra weren't hard to pick out in the sweating morass of 
children, young singles, married couples and a few golden-aged senior 
citizens... and one pregnant lady. Sondra's long strawberry hair caught the 
orange lantern flames, casting neon red streaks of excitement in the 
furniture department turned dance hall. She and Blanche were bumping and 
grinding face to face when Orin tapped Blanche on the shoulder and screamed 
in her ear. 

"What's happened to Mona? They've got her, the bastards!" Orin found release 
in blasphemy, something Mona had never allowed before. 

Blanche panted to a breathy stop and swizzled around. "Hugh told me to get 
the hell out of the office. They've got five men in there... and I think 
they're all planning to lay Mona!" 

"Five?" Orin exploded. "That's a damned gang bang. Who the hell are these 
bastards?" 

"Well..." she counted on her fingers. "There's James Alabaster... the 
accountant. Hugh, of course and my husband, and two others. Do you know who 
they are?" she cupped her hand and held her mouth close to Sondra's ear. 

"Ralph and Dan..." she supplied. "I saw them go in there. They wouldn't let 
me in!" she pouted. 

"Dan? The guard Dan? Gin rummy Dan?" Orin's jaw fell from shocked deceit. 
"Okay, we know where she is, but how do we get to her?" 

Orin's blue eyes fastened on the business office area at the other end of 
the fourth floor. 

"Well, we could even up the numbers, I suppose..." Sondra suggested with a 
glinting smirk. "Make things easier on Mona." 

"What do you mean, even things up?" Orin queried with a lopsided grin. 

"Well, it's five to one now on Mona. That's a lot of dick if she isn't used 
to it. Blanche and I could make it easier on Mona," Sondra reasoned. 

"...Or six to three if Orin came along," added the secretary. 

"Oh, I'm coming along. I don't want Mona getting hurt... but how do we get 
in?" Real concern shoved aside anger now. 

"You forget, I'm the secretary... I open the office every morning." She 
shoved a half empty champagne bottle under Orin's nose. "Drink this, you're 
gonna need it..." 

 Chapter Ten 

Nick Harrington contented himself voyeuristically for long minutes, but now 
as the ace accountant who'd won Hugh Murphy's generous favors for his 
twisted little business mind gasped out his orgasmic pleasure, he took his 
rightful place in the pecking order. He watched as Hugh Murphy turned the 
shamelessly aroused and begging-to-be-fucked Mona Bradley onto her back and 
lowered his hairy bulk down between her trembling thighs that shimmered with 
sweat and drying sperm on her inner thighs. The lamp light caught the 
glistening length of Hugh's thick cock prodding at the portal of Mona's 
flowered open cunt. As Nick watched, he decided how to best use this 
sex-craze young woman, something he'd tried only with a cheap prostitute in 
Detroit on a business convention. His eyes fixed on Hugh who began to fuck 
in and out of Mona's gripping pussy with long smooth strokes, and the shock 
of the deep body jarring thrusts reflected in the jouncing of her ripely 
quivering breasts. Damn! She got the prettiest boobs I've ever seen! 

Crawling across the mattress and crowding the eagerly panting Ralph aside, 
Nick's eagerly itching hands reached out to both of her firmly tanned 
mountains, cupping them up. He pulled them close together. noting how they 
created a fleshed cleavage pocket and came up into high-standing cones. 
Yeah, damn... that'll be great! 

On the other side of the door, Blanche's knuckles turned white from 
pounding. "Art! I know you're in there! Let me in!" 

Groaning with disgust, Nick shot a malevolent look at the door and barked; 
"Blanche? What the hell do you want?" 

"Listen, Nick... I know you've got Mona Bradley in there... and that there 
at least four other men with you! Sondra and I are coming in to join you... 
and sort of spread the fun around!" 

"Hell you are!" 

"I can and I will... because if Mona's husband had his way, he'd be signing 
a police complaint charging you and those yo-yos in there with you with 
kidnapping!" 

"Oh, shit! Is he coming in here too?" For a moment, Nick's poise fled him; 
he looked ready to bolt. 

"Sure he is! If we change your gang bang into a swapping party... maybe Orin 
will change his mind." 

"Stop talking about kidnapping!" The word had shocked every male in the 
room. Only Mona, bent on her hot quest for orgasm, remained unaffected. 

"You better believe me, Nick... you could go before the judge for this!" 
bellowed Blanche. 

"Damn it, okay. The more the merrier, I suppose." As if the others hadn't 
heard the conversation shouted between a locked door, Nick made the general 
announcement: "My wife Blanche and Hugh's wife Sondra are bringing Orin 
Bradley in here to swing with us!" 

"What the hell?" Hugh growled. "Not with my wife!" snarled Hugh as he drove 
his thickly pumping cock deep and hard into Orin Bradley's wife's moist, 
red-hot cunt. "Aaaggghh!" she moaned unaware of what had been said. 

"I'll let you in, in a second!" yelled Nick, disgruntledly. 

Locating his boxer shorts and slipping his skinny legs into them, Nick 
slumped into a chair and poured himself another drink, warming his 
stockinged toes by the battery run foot warmer. He downed the champagne in 
one gulp and speculated on how it was possible for Blanche to have found out 
about Mona being in the office. Her mention of 'swinging' made him suspect, 
also, that she was getting a little on the side. But who the hell with....? 

Finally Nick went to open the door. 

Blanche, standing in the middle flanked by Hugh Murphy's wife and Mona 
Bradley's husband, smiled sweetly at him, her eyes taking in the bulge of 
his still half-hardened penis inside his striped boxer shorts. She smiled 
and said demurely; "I'm sorry to take away from your fun, darling... but 
it's not fair is it?" 

"What's not fair?" growled Nick, opening the door wider and letting them 
file through. 

"For one woman to get all that attention." Nick grabbed his wife by the arm 
and dragged he aside. "Don't make a fool of me in front of the boss, damn 
you. I had to do it... Alabaster and Murphy wanted it that way!" 

Sondra, squinting in the darkness, walked to the middle of the room and 
looked down to see her husband nakedly slaving away above Mona's wildly 
responding body, his hips rising and falling with machine-like regularity as 
he jack-hammered his purple-knobbed cock into her nibbling vagina. Walking 
nonchalantly over to the mattress on the floor, Hugh's wife gazed down at 
him, remarking.. "Hugh, darling, I'm here... and you're going to get your 
chance to see me get laid by another man... like it or not!" 

"The hell!" Hugh didn't miss a stroke into Mona's cunt. 

Ralph, the salesman, who was lying close beside Mona, had placed her soft 
hand again on his straining cock, while his own hands caressed her 
goosebumped breast, his finger and thumb rolling her nipple-buds into hard 
marbles. Looking up, he gasped at the sight of his sometimes-lover standing 
there, a redheaded vixen of loveliness. She was availing herself to him... 
and in front of the boss, too. Hell what an opportunity to get even with 
that blowhard! In seconds, he was on his knees before Sondra as he unhooked 
Mona's tightly gripping fingers from his stalky erection. "Do you mean that, 
Sondra?" 

Sondra gazed down at his ready-to-fuck cock and smiled. "You heard me." She 
kicked off her shoes and automatically, he reached up under her skirt, his 
hands running smoothly up her thighs while she began stripping off her 
blouse. Ralph assisted by slipping his fingers in the tight waistband of her 
flimsy little panties and peeling them down over her curving hips and 
thighs, as she smiled archly and stepped out of them revealing her 
strawberry tressed pubic mound and gleaming white buttocks. 

Meanwhile, Dan, welcoming the chance to get a crack at the corporate head's 
luscious wife, stood up and came around behind her. Without hesitation he 
unhooked her brassiere with the simple grace and removed it to see her ripe 
luscious full breasts glimmer nakedly in the shadowing lantern light, his 
hands going around her from behind to fondle her soft warm fleshy mounds. 

Sondra jumped from the contact of his cold hands, and to warm him up, she 
reached back behind to grip his solidly pulsing cock that jabbed warmly 
against the small of her back. 

Ralph, still kneeling in front of Sondra, finished undressing her by zipping 
down her skirt to let it puddle to her slender ankles. With a low moan of 
hunger, he wrapped his arms around her long, smoothly tapering thighs as his 
mouth aimed for the pink triangle of her pubic mound. Quickly, his tongue 
licked down from above into the warm pink moistness of her cuntal slit and 
came into tingling contact with the studding erection of her marbly 
clitoris. Sondra whimpered like a hungry kitten at the delicious contact 
with her sensitive nerve bud and her legs trembled weakly as she slid down 
to the softness of the mattress between the two nakedly virile men, her 
thighs splayed obscenely to Ralph and his wetly slithering tongue. Then Dan 
got in on the action, kissing her mouth, his hands roving over Sondra's lush 
curves and mounds, as his tongue lashed deeply into the sweetness of her 
mouth. Sondra sighed and quivered with lewd expectancy, her arousal swelling 
tenfold at the sight of her husband, not three feet away, slamming his 
mushroom-headed cock in and out of Mona's stretched pussy. 

Nick and his wife stood there in an argumentative stances, but Orin Bradley 
was not interested in listening to their squabble as Harrington began to 
castigate his wife Blanche for interfering with his fun! "Listen, Nick... 
I'm sick and tired of your playing around. It's okay for men, but not for 
women. What kind of moronic sense does that make?" she blasted. 

Orin moved off to the corner of the private, plush office following Sondra's 
lead. Both she and Blanche had briefed him against showing jealousy, and 
above all, not to use his fists. Still, it took every bit of patience and 
cool-headedness he possessed to contain himself as he caught his first 
glance of Mona lying flat on her back, her passionately quivering legs 
spread wide and pulled up and back, mashing her tan and white striped 
breasts flat to her chest, accepting all of Hugh's thundering cock and 
mouthing silent pleas for more. That took the patience of Job, but he 
watched silently as Hugh's cock cleaved his wife's tender young pussy, her 
wetly throbbing cunt flowered open and distended torturously to take it all 
in. He withered at the sight of his wife's beautiful baby-face twisted in 
lustful passion... a passion he had seldom seen in her. Seething with anger 
and hurt, he pumped his fists, wishing he could settle this with a few 
well-placed punches... But Blanche and Sondra said to play it cool... making 
it a swinging party, so at least I can keep my eye on Mona! 

Of course, lurking in the back of his mind was the knowledge that he had 
enjoyed Hugh's wife... had fucked her to a soaring orgasm, but now, faced 
with the reality of seeing his own wife in the throes of ecstasy beneath 
another man's belly, that was close to unbearable. 

Her turquoise eyes closed, head flailing in a flounce of blonde curls, Mona 
felt all her nerve ends terminate seemingly right there in that tightly 
stretched hole up between her legs that Hugh Murphy filled so wonderfully. 
Suddenly, she moaned aloud, unaware of her enraged young husband feet away, 
watching, listening. "Fuck me harder, Hugh! Oh God, shove it in me deeper... 
and harder. I want all of your cock! All of it!" 

Blinded with fury, knowing only that somehow he was going to get even, Orin 
raised his eyes from the mattress surrounded with flaming lanterns streaking 
red over his wife's naked body and saw that Ralph and Dan were already 
involved with Sondra Murphy. Methodically stripped of her clothing, she lay 
between the two men, whose four hands roved across her body like lost birds 
looking for a place to nest and lying at the other end of the mattress was a 
strange looking fellow Orin assumed to be James Alabaster, the mathematical 
genius. During his angry inspection of the room, Orin's penis had come up 
hard and throbbing. Without thinking, he crossed to the mattress, zipped 
down his fly, and reached in to haul out the massive stalk of his angry, 
flushed cock. I'll give her some cock to remember, God damn it! 

Kneeling down beside his mindlessly, lustfully lost wife on the mattress, 
Orin reached out to keep her head from rolling, tightly gripping her by the 
delicate jaw, while his other hand held the purple veined shaft like a 
weapon, and he worked the loose foreskin back to reveal its mushroom shaped 
head. He gripped her face, forcing her to face him and growled; "Here, God 
damn it, Mona... let me give you some cock if you need it so bad!" 

Mona popped open one passion-clouded eye to gaze directly into her husband's 
slitted cock-eye, dribbling with pre-cum. Eyes fading with fright, she snuck 
a peak at his stony face, seeing the fearsome expression of it and knowing 
Orin had reached his saturation point with patience. Dear Lord... he thinks 
I'm here because I want to be! Immediately she understood what he wanted... 
what he was going to force her to do...! And she remembered all those nights 
she'd absolutely refused to take his penis into her mouth. Maybe she could 
calm him down. 

"Darling... you're here!" 

"Yeah ... I'm here, and now start sucking on my cock, you bitch!" 

As if he were pulling a tire lose from its frame, he pulled her head roughly 
close to him while he wriggled closer to her, spreading his knees wide and 
shoving the hotly throbbing head of his cock hard against her lips. She 
tried to twist her head aside, but he held her tight. "Wait... it's not like 
you think... I..." 

"Suck!" He thrust his hips forward against his wife's moistened, parted 
lips, and automatically she ovaled them as the satiny rubbery length slipped 
inside. Instinctively, her tongue began to swirl around the sensitive tip 
and the little glans at the end. Orin shuffled forward further, groaning in 
an effort to ram more of his maledom down his wife's choking throat. 

Between her widespread thighs, Hugh worked savagely, slamming his demanding 
cock with sledge hammer thrusts deeply into her belly. His balls ached, 
begging to explode its flesh-searing load. Dismay and joy mingled in him: 
dismay and disappointment at not being able to bring Orin's wife to orgasm, 
which was a point of pride with him in his prowess with women; the joy, of 
course, was the natural one of ecstatic anticipation of ejaculation. Damn 
it! Why did her husband have barge in here with my wife and Blanche? Hugh 
had been so wrapped up in his own sexual play, he could watch only 
helplessly as his wife brazenly threw herself at his salesman and armed 
guard. And that damned Bradley... forcing his wife to suck him off, just 
when I'm ready to cum... cum! 

Viciously, he rammed his wildly spewing cock deep into her nibbling pussy as 
far as he could for one final plunge, pubic bone crashing hard into hers and 
making her moan and whimper. His white hot semen rushed in spasmodic gushes, 
pumping from the tiny eye to jet deep into the young wife's quivering womb. 
"Aaaggghh!" he grunted in disgust. "Christ! I blew it too soon!" His bulky 
body slumped down on top of her, interfering with Orin who was shoving all 
but a millimeter of his cock down his wife's throat. 

In the corner of the room, Nick and Blanche ended their verbal battle with 
Blanche's promise for no more double standards in their marriage. In short, 
succinct statements, she declared her sexual freedom. 

"We can split up... or we can swing together as a couple. But no more of 
this behind-my-back stuff! I want to have a good time out of life!" 

It was an ultimatum Nick couldn't argue against. "Damn it, have it your 
way... but so far, all we've done is talk about it. Let's get in on the 
action!" 

They plunged into the middle of the room, eyes hungry for a spare pussy, a 
flaccid cock. Both stared down at lucky Sondra Murphy now nakedly up on her 
knees, her smooth alabaster buttocks humping back against Ralph who was 
fucking her dog style from behind, slamming his king-sized cock deep into 
her slippery cuntal hole. Also on his knees in front of the strawberry 
haired ex-show girl was Dan, unconsciously grinding his teeth in blind lust 
as Sondra worked her mouth around the blood-fed erection sliding easily in 
and out of her practiced lips. 

Whimpering with lust, Blanche stepped out of her dress while beside her, 
Nick stripped off his boxer shorts and, dropping to his knees, crawled over 
to the triumvirate writhing on the mattress. Now was Nick's chance to get at 
Mona! Hugh obviously was coming down to the wire, ready to cum in a flash. 
In a countless second it happened, and Hugh's bearish body sagged heavily 
down on top of Orin's luscious blonde wife. With wily alacrity, he noted 
that his boss had failed to bring the coconut-tanned blonde to orgasm... for 
Mona was punching her pelvis up and down in an invitation for 
someone-anyone-to finish her off. 

Nick nudged his boss. "Dammit, Hugh, how about getting off of her, so I can 
have turn on her!" His command bordered on insolence, he knew, but Blanche's 
interruption had fired his impatience. Besides, he was tired of playing 
second fiddle to that little Nero, Alabaster. 

Surprisingly, the bully figure of Hugh Murphy stirred and rolled away to his 
side of the mattress like a bowling ball skimming down the gutter. With an 
unintelligible grunt, he glared over at Sondra, involved with her own thing 
with Ralph and Dan and grated; "When I get you alone, you little whore, I'm 
going to fuck the ass off of you!" 

Of course she couldn't answer back with her mouth stuffed full of cock and 
everytime she caught her breath, Ralph jabbed her from behind. Dan was just 
about ready to cum and Sondra bobbed her head up and down the warm shaft of 
his pulsing penis, trying to match the obscene tempo of his thrust as he 
savagely fucked his cock faster and deeper into her hungry mouth and throat. 
Trembling with anticipation, Sondra waited for the hot flood of Dan's sperm 
to explode into her mouth; even so, she heard and thrilled at her husband's 
threat to 'fuck the ass' off her. Ooohhhh! I hope so! 

Orin had been on the brink of telling Hugh what he thought of him when Nick 
interrupted. As Harrington pushed himself up and rolled away from on top of 
Mona, Orin snapped at Nick. "Not so damned fast, Harrington! She's my 
wife... I'm going to fuck her now!" 

Kneeling up, he pulled his saliva-glistened penis out of Mona's sucking 
mouth and bellowed: "Get up on your knees, woman! I'm going to fuck like a 
man!" The insult, aimed at Hugh, fell on deaf ears. 

Mona, her eyes glazed with arousal, disappointed with Hugh's untimely 
orgasm, hastened to her knees. "Ohhh, darling, Orin! I want you to f-fuck me 
any way you w-want!" In a flash her buttocks were waving in an obscene 
invitation back toward her husband who had knee-walked into position behind 
her, his penis threaded with saliva and lubricating pre-cum. 

Disheartening it was for Blanche, as she kicked aside her panties that the 
only man not involved in copulation in one form or another, was James 
Alabaster. He was lying there, watching after having satisfied Mona's 
pounding pussy. It tickled him, too, that Hugh Murphy, big blow-hard Murphy 
couldn't make her cum. And they thought I was inadequate... hmmff! 

Alabaster's eyes fell on Blanche standing there nakedly voluptuous with her 
smoky grey eyes, and he knew that the ultimate power ploy would be to fuck 
the boss's womanizing credit manager's wife... the boss' own lover! Her 
creamy white skin was a sharp contrast to Mrs. Bradley coconut tan, and her 
sensually mounded body, pointed up in full melonous peaks, were tipped with 
rosebud nipples... an erotic vision to a man who'd spent two days tucked 
away in an office alone. He reached down to touch his stirring penis... 
perhaps to make certain it was still working. His five foot frame wiggled 
over to her, coming up to her chin. 

"It's getting crowded over there," he squeaked. Then he took her in his 
pudgy little arms and kissed her with a, deep lashing tongue, open-mouthed 
as he moved her backward toward an upholstered arm chair in the corner. 

Beggars can't be choosey... Blanche reminded herself, feeling the soft 
velour of the chair cushion soften the blow as she slumped down into the 
chair. 

In a flash the little man was kneeling down in front of her, his hands going 
up under her knees to lift and spread her smooth thighs apart. Deftly, he 
draped her flexed legs over the chair and as he leaned forward, Blanche 
instinctively rotated her pelvis... wanting his tongue there in the seeping 
folds of her pussy. 

"Goddd, that's nice!" she crooned as James' head wedged between her 
trembling thighs and his long hot tongue shot out to lick her hardening 
clitoris. 

Hugh did a double take as he recognized the groaning woman in the chair as 
Nick Harrington's wife... and his mistress! A flow of rekindling sexual 
interest coursed through him. Being the virile man that he was, his heart 
pumped gushing blood into his growing cock and trapped it there, building 
another hard erection. Well, hell... I might as well even things up! There 
are twice as many cocks as cunts. He hauled himself off the mattress and 
ambled over to where Blanche and James monopolized the softest chair in the 
room, his penis spearing boldly from his salt and pepper pubic hair, ready 
for a close encounter. 

As Orin came in behind his kneeling young wife, Mona, whose naked tanned 
striped buttocks undulated like a waving flag back toward him, Nick 
snickering, "If you wanna satisfy the woman, give it to her in the ass!" 

Mona heard his vile urging and moaned, "Nooo, Orinnn, don't you dare!" 

Orin recognized the fitting punishment for his wife's debauchery. He forgot 
for a moment that the man suggesting it was completely responsible for her 
forbidden infidelity in the first place. 

"Shut up! You told me I could fuck you any way I wanted..." Putting his 
words into action, Orin reached out to the beige moons of her buttocks and 
with strong fingered hands, pried apart her clenching buttock cheeks. 
Holding them widespread, he dipped the lust swollen head of his throbbing 
penis into the hot slippery moisture-a lurid mixture of saliva, female cum 
and male sperm-and aimed it straight at the tiny brown eye of her tightly 
puckered anus. His pulsating cock head jabbed at the defenseless button and 
he pushed hard, using all the strength in his muscular legs and back. 

"Aaaaggghhhh... you're hurting me!" cried Mona. "Stop... Orin!" 

Orin grunted with the effort as he felt the elastic opening give a little. 
"It's tighter than hell!" 

"It'll go in," Nick cheered from the sidelines, wishing he was doing that 
himself. 

"Orin... baby... don't... you'll ruin me back there!" 

"No I won't!" countered Orin. "Push your ass back against me just like you 
did with these other bastards. PUSH, GODDAMN YOU!" His hand whined through 
the air and came down in a stinging slap against her buttocks. Nick grinned 
at her sharp scream. 

Abject in humiliation, trapped in a room with six sex-crazed men (the worst 
of which was her own husband), Mona was forced to cooperate. She tried to 
relax and push back against him, but gained only a searing pain for her 
trouble. "Ooouuggh!" she shrieked. "It hurts too much," she hissed between 
clenched teeth. 

Nick was down on his hands and knees coaching. "It only hurts for a little 
while! You'll get used to it! It'll slide in like greased lightning if you 
just relax." 

Sweat beaded on Orin's brow. Her tightly clenched anus was locked like a 
vise around his purple veined cock; her sphincter ring felt as if it were 
contracting rather than stretching. But he was committed to his task and 
with a surge he rammed hard, forcing the tip of his cock far enough inside 
of her rectum to feel the spongy walls. It was the most intensely erotic 
sensation he had ever felt. "Christ!" he choked, then rammed forward, again, 
gaining another half inch. 

"Oooooooohhh! Myyyy! GGoddddddd!" Mona screamed with the pain of it. 

Instinctively, Orin gripped her bucking hips and pulled her roughly back 
toward him, while he drove his loins forward with jackhammering thrusts. 
Inch by painful inch, his cock bored into her tense rectum until finally 
almost all of it was buried deep inside her hot, private walls. Looking 
down, the lantern illuminated the cruelly stretched little anus clenching 
and unclenching like a baby mouth. It's in, by God, I got it in! 

He stopped pushing then, knowing that his wife's virginal rectum would need 
a moment to adjust to this new delight, but he couldn't help the involuntary 
lurch of his cock buried deep inside her buttery depths. Each time his 
overly excited penis spasmed, it brought another wail or squeal from Mona's 
swollen lips. God damn, this is really wild! 

Now that his cock was in her hideously stretched backside, flexing and 
squirming around in its unnatural burial ground, it felt better... much 
better. The pain had metamorphasised into a dully erotic sensation. She 
moaned, this time not with pain but with desire... a wildly insane desire 
for Orin to go on and on, using her rectum back there just as her cunt and 
her mouth had been used. 

Her hips bucked and her lips quivered, mouthing pleas. "Orin... darling...? 
Fuck me there! Go ahead... and fuck me there!" Even as she moaned out her 
supplications, she wasn't prepared for Nick Harrington's suggestion. 

"Now... if you'll flip her over, Orin... and keep your cock shoved all the 
way up in her asshole, I'll be able to fuck her, too... in the cunt! She'll 
go crazy over that!" 

Neither man seemed to have heard her gasped out objection, for in the next 
moment, her husband had wrapped his strong arms around her and was rolling 
them both over until she was lying full length on top of him-her back 
pressed against his hairy chest-with his throbbing stalk of maledom buried 
like some giant log deep up inside her sensitively puckering rectum. Her 
legs were splayed wide apart, white threads of cum-some old, some 
recent-sticking to her legs. 

Orin, her once gentle, sweet Orin rasped in her ear: "Now you're going to 
get enough cock, damn you!" 

Helplessly trapped between the two men, she felt Harrington crawl between 
their legs. A pearl of pre-cum dripped from the slit of his penis, 
needlessly lubricating its way for the plunge that would fill Mona Bradley's 
cunt to bursting, stuffing her like a Thanksgiving turkey. The sensation 
registered as exquisite in her brain as it slipped in, filling her with 
man-cock. "Oh, God! Don't make me wait! Fuck me! Fuck me... hard! Both of 
you!" 

Then she was buffeted from above and below, both long virile penises moving 
in her with a wildness that knew no equal, and she matched that wildness as 
she bucked her hips upward against Nick to absorb all of his cock into her 
pinkly swollen pussy, then fucked downward against her husband to feel his 
grinding deep into the hot tightness of her anal canal. It was all too 
heady... so ridden with erotically delicious sensations that her senses 
began to desert her one by one: eyes dimming with lust and ears buzzing and 
unhearing, but leaving her feeling it all... the only important sense upon 
which she concentrated was the electric sensations of lustful sexuality as 
she was fucked in the anus, fucked in the cunt... and fucked into sweet 
oblivion. 

Ralph, slamming his purpled knobbed manhood into Sondra's receptive pussy 
from behind, brought the redhead to her first orgasm while she sucked 
kittenishly on Dan's long hard pole. Moments later, his own climax pumped to 
spew his scalding cum deep up inside her convulsing cuntal channel. Wild to 
drive toward his own ejaculation, Dan shoved Ralph in the chest, pushing him 
away. "You've had her! Now it's my turn!" Kneeling up, he pulled his cock 
out of Sondra's softly nibbling mouth, flipped the naked redhead over on her 
back and shoved his cock up into her steaming pussy. Insanely, he fucked 
into her, pounding deep and hard with desperate strength... and Sondra came 
again, just ahead of his own explosion. 

"Aaaaaaaahhh! GaaawWWd!" 

Dan collapsed wearily on top of her with a grunt of satisfaction. "Christ, 
what a woman!" 

Hugh Murphy had been making amends with his secretary, kissing and fondling 
her naked breasts as she sat spread-legged in the chair while the kneeling 
accountant tongue-fucked her to ecstatic heights of ecstasy. Her hips ground 
up against his wet tongue, smashing his nose against her clitoris. Suddenly 
she broke her kiss with Hugh, gasping: "Oh, that's wonderful... but I've got 
to have a cock in me now!" 

Alabaster raised his bobbing head and she slid from the chair down to the 
thick carpet, stationing herself in front of a heater with her thighs wide 
in reception. Eagerly her hands groped down to pull at his long thin penis 
as he wiggled up between her legs. She guided him straight into her seeping 
cunt and her hands shot down to pull him hard and tight into her loins. 
"Now! Fuck me with everything you've got!" 

Going down to the rug beside her, Hugh Murphy intended to have her suck him 
off while James fucked her, but his attention was diverted by his wife's 
screaming climax under Dan's pounding pelvis. Hugh's pale blue eyes flashed 
with jealousy and an unwarrantably injured pride. So inured was he to the 
double standard of behavior, he found it damning to tolerate her brazen 
salacity. I'll teach her who's boss when we get home! 

His piggish eyes shifted to the mattress where the three figures punched and 
thrust against each other, all yelling out mating calls of lust. Two men 
fucking one woman was something he'd like to try himself and watching Mona 
Bradley's greedy response at being sandwiched in between Nick's slamming 
cock in the cunt and her husband's deeply buried manhood in her anus, 
cemented his assessment that Mona could take on ten men at once. 

A banshee cry of womanly lust pierced his ears and his eyes followed the 
sound waves to the floor where his secretary, Blanche Harrington, sweated 
under the stiffening body of his accountant. One final plunge into Blanche's 
quivering pussy and the dwarfish fellow gasped in complete exhaustion as 
another pint of his sperm shot out to splash against Blanche's thirsty 
cervix. 

Hugh Murphy wanted part of the action-after all, this was his office, his 
company. Mona Bradley had no room for more cocks and fucking his wife in 
public was no way to usher in the New Year. Inspiration of a new sort 
flitted through his body. Waiting for a moment, Hugh knelt down beside his 
secretary and prodded James Alabaster into moving aside. "You got your 
reward... she's my secretary!" 

Obligingly, too tired to resist, James rolled away, completely satiated. 
He'd cum twice. 

Hugh straddled Blanche's naked body and, as she gazed up through sex-glazed 
eyes to see him swimmingly, she murmured. "Oh, it's you, Hugh! Fuck or 
suck... which will it be?" 

"Neither!" 

"Huh?" 

"This!" He spat into his palm and rubbed the saliva over the knob of his 
pulsing, cock. Sliding himself up further, still straddling her, Hugh 
reached out to cup the pliant melons of her breasts; then pushing them up 
from the sides toward the center of her chest, he flexed his hips forward 
and slid his heavy veined cock into the soft, warm, buttery channel between. 
"Now, Blanche, you hold your tits up for Hugh, and I'm going to have some 
fun!" 

"...But, what will I get out of this?" she started to protest. 

Hugh cut her short. "Don't worry... you'll be taken care of." 

"Nick never did this to me!" 

Hugh Murphy flexed his hips, driving his seeping penis in between the soft 
satiny flesh of her breasts as she obediently held them tightly together. 
Damn! This is just a sophisticated kind of masturbation! But whatever Hugh 
wanted, Hugh got... and this silliness proved just that. I'll just have to 
put up with it... like I put up with everything else. 

Blanche wasn't prepared for the erotic sensations of his heavily swaying 
testicles scraping tantalizingly across her naked belly and a flicker of 
arousal glowed deep up in the pulsing, sperm-filled hole between her legs. 

Over on the mattress, Mona was mewling and purring, moving in concert with 
her husband brutally fucking into her anus and Nick ramming so deliciously 
into her throbbing cunt. Suddenly, everything tingled from her toes to her 
finger tips and she felt as though a volcano were ready to blow inside of 
her. Soaring, she rose to meet her orgasm, convulsing with a scream: 
"Ohhhhh! Goddd! Fuck haaarder! I'm cummming!" 

Never in her four years of sexual experience had Mona climaxed so intensely. 
Her naked young body shivered as thrills of orgasmic pleasure shimmered like 
deep-throated organ notes through her. For a moment she felt faint, her eyes 
dimmed and blood pounding in her ears like raging surf. 

Beneath her, Orin brutally thrust his hips upward, his penis boring another 
inch up into his wife's rectum as his sperm-filled balls let loose with a 
pint of semen. His cum surged through him like molten lava. "Christ!" he 
gasped. "Ohhhh, Bunnnnnnnnnnny!" On and on his cock pumped, even though he 
lay quite still, not stroking at all, just lying there and feeling her 
rectal muscles milking him of all strength and feeling Nick's cock through 
the thin membrane separating cunt from rectum. 

Above, Nick Harrington pounded and pummeled into Mona's cunt, splashing out 
his orgasm and collapsing on top of the reunited Bradley's. 

None of the three moved, and the room fell quiet, save for the grunting 
sputters from down on the floor where Hugh Murphy straddled Blanche, fucking 
her between the breasts. 

"Oh, God, fuck me, Hugh! Fuck me in the cunt!" 

He did and she did... fuck-both cumming in less than a minute. 

Afterward, they all lay half comatose, watching the lanterns flicker. One by 
one, bodies cuddled together for warmth, the sizzling heat of lust having 
warmed the room to a seasonable comfort. States of emergency do bring people 
closer together, and out in the furniture department, bodies contacted in 
provocative rapacity, huddling together for heat, cuddling for security, 
kissing to welcome in the New Year. In drunken bliss, under a roof of 
blankets, more than one child was conceived on that blustery eve. 

 Chapter Eleven 

Exactly sixty-two days had elapsed since the rescue squad unearthed the 
snowy burial ground of Joseph's Department Store parking lot and the 
victims, weary but unexplainably high spirited, returned home to families 
and lovers. 

Mona Bradley sat in the outer office retyping for the fourth time a memo 
from Hugh Murphy to the staff, announcing this year's office party to be 
held at a retreat he'd rented in the mountains. He knew how to keep his 
employees happy. 

Mona handed the memo to her employer for his signature. "Is that okay, Mr. 
Murphy, Sir?" She asked, knowing that anything she did had to please her 
demanding boss right down to his hairy testicles. Even though he could be a 
stern, demanding task-master, he pleased her, too... they'd managed to 
adjust to each other rather painlessly, considering their tightly knit 
working relationship of submissive secretary and domineering, demanding 
boss. 

"Looks fine this time, doll... now come into the office for some 
dicktation." He raised his eyebrows until they knit one hairy line across 
his nakedly furrowed forehead. 

Mona submissive to her boss' every demand, quickly and obediently slithered 
out of her tight, tube knit sheath dress, kicking it to a corner, she sat 
down on Murphy's lap, straddling his legs, his stony erection jabbing and 
slapping against her belly. Pooching out her lips, she lowered her mouth to 
his and slithered her tongue between his beefy lips, then drew back 
unexpectedly. 

"Oh, one thing... Sir!" She put a polished fingertip to her glossy lips and 
smirked. "Our new credit manager caught a woman lying on her credit 
application. Rather pretty little thing... she's Hawaiian with long black 
hair down to her buttocks. She's sitting in his office now. I thought you 
might like her. What are you going to do about it?" 

Hugh Murphy bellowed out a two-ton laugh. "After we finish up here, bring 
that little hussy in here and I'll set her straight!" 

Two months ago Mona would have told him in no uncertain terms where to go, 
but now that she had worked for her new boss and learned to obey his whims 
and needs, she also learned of her need to be completely dominated by a 
powerful demanding man like Hugh. 

She still loved Orin, but things were different between them now. Orin had 
hired himself a buxom little gum chewing high school girl with flaming red 
hair to do his books and answer the telephone, since she knew he no longer 
considered their marriage to be sacred any longer, her own mind was one 
hundred percent clear of guilt. 

"Yesss, Sir!" purred the blonde-headed secretary climbing off Hugh's lap and 
falling slavishly to her knees, her anxious fingers working at his zipper 
while she wet her tongue for the task that lay half erect in her hand now. 
"Let me take care of you first, and then I'll bring her in..." 


End
