Forced Swap
by Don Swenson


INTRODUCTION 

"If you don't let me ... I'll tell Mommy!" 

This is a spiteful little game learned early in life by many children. And 
if the demand is not acceded to and the child follows through with the 
threat, he or she is chided as a tattletale. 

Regardless of how relatively innocent the demand, it is still an insidious 
prank. In older children, let's say, after puberty, it is contemptible, to 
say the least. Can it be calculated how many young girls have been debauched 
by an older brother who has "something on" a sister and gets his way of "Let 
me do it to you, or I'll tell the folks?" 

And the frightened girl fearfully consents and loses her virginity-and 
instead of guaranteeing secrecy from a lascivious brother, she further 
enslaves her body to his future perverted lust. 

This is blackmail! 

It is virtually impossible to determine the extent of blackmail in the 
world. It is probably one of the most despicable of crimes perpetrated among 
civilized people. Psychologists and psychiatrists deal with the anguish and 
far-reaching physical, mental and financial ramificaions daily-among the 
rich and the not so-rich. 

The story of Mavis Moran is one illustrating the bizarre and weird twists 
blackmail can take. Many factors can contribute to a person's unwariness and 
put him or her in the cruel, greedy and lewd clutches of the blackmailer, 
making him or her a captive in a very real sense of the word. 

Sociologists, the police establishment, and the legal profession generally 
agree that many victims could escape the demoralizing and corrupting 
influence of the blackmailer if they would only abandon their fears and 
carefully weigh the potential agony of being prostituted against whatever 
possible effect of "whatever" revelation of shameful secrets. 

The reader can easily detect the factors that sank Mavis into degradation. 
There are loneliness and fear for her marriage. And there is an episode in 
her past that she wishes to spare her husband. Fear and shame opened the 
door wide for her debasement in bedrooms and on sofas at the hands of 
sex-hungry monsters like Willie Quentin and lesbian leeches. 

But greed, as it so often does, leads to the downfall of Mavis's 
sex-pillaging captors. However, through it all, human frailties are starkly 
revealed, pointing up that even the best-intentioned can possess wantonness, 
born of strong human-animalistic-drives. 

Therefore, let's not condemn weaknesses and aberrations in others such as 
Mavis Moran. People caught up in the web of shame woven by those with 
depraved minds deserve our sympathies. We do not have to forgive-that is a 
quality that will measure the heart and mind of those closest to the victim. 

It is deeply satisfying to those who do not know the victim to learn that 
the despicable predators pay a harsh price for preying on the minds and 
bodies of others, despoiling and pillaging. 

It is hoped that the story of Mavis-if it serves no other purpose-may alert 
at least one person to be wary and avoid the slimy grips of those who would 
debauch and demoralize. Don't become a nebulous statistic at the hands of a 
would-be blackmailer-and worse, a tragedy in the columns of suicides. Who 
knows how many have taken their own lives because of the depressing effects 
of blackmail in one form or another. 

-The Publishers 

 CHAPTER ONE 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mavis almost wished he had humped them both good-because Hank had screwed 
her! She shuddered as she remembered that repulsive Ben Glover ramming his 
obscene cock into that dainty Terry Lewis. "Ugh!" she muttered. Mavis wished 
she could have avoided everything that had happened in the past couple of 
weeks-but Miriam and Henry knew things about her that she just didn't think 
she could stand for Phil to find out! Another thing that made her almost ill 
was that no matter how repelled she had been by what she had been compelled 
to do, she had enjoyed it with an almost animalistic pleasure. She may have 
started out in the sex act filled with revulsion-but she loved to fuck and 
be fucked! 

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

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

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

* * * 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Getcher goddamned clothes off!" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tape!" he yelled triumphantly. 

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

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

* * * 

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

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

Time passed slowly. And Mavis drifted into a semiconscious state. Later, she 
was only vaguely aware of other people in Willie's office. She learned the 
next day that Connie had called the police when Willie didn't come home. 

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

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

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

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

 CHAPTER TWO 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mavis sensed an ominous note in Miriam's tone. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miriam's laughter tinkled deliciously in the still air of the vast room. 
"Possibly! Perhaps I should call her again." 

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

"All right, honey!" Miriam laughed and winked. 

"Don't you, really, think having the affections of three or four men would 
be more fun than having to settle for just your hubby, Mavis?" 

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

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

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

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

"Huh? Oh, yes!" Mavis recovered her poise quickly. 

She watched Miriam push it toward her with the tips of her fingers. "Open 
it!" Miriam invited. 

A present? Mavis wondered. "For me, Miriam?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 CHAPTER FOUR 

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

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

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

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

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

* * * 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is something wrong, Willie?" Mavis asked, a tightness in her throat. She 
was aware of faint perspiration in her underarms. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, Mavis!" Willie blurted, "if it were only that much, I'd gladly take it 
right out of my own wallet! 

But I can't cover two thousand bucks! And let you off with a stern, fatherly 
talking to!" 

TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS! 

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

A THOUSAND DOLLARS! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This is Saturday-not until Monday." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let's fuck!" he said bluntly. 

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

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

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

"Well?" Willie pursued gently, voice mild. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was going to fuck her with THAT! 

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

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

She strained to help him as he threaded his right arm behind her knees and 
lifted her rump so he could work her skivvies off over her taut ass. He 
peeled them, wrong-side out, up her thighs and off over her feet. And she 
was stark naked before his covetous lust-filled eyes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tongues jousted and twined. 

And he found her hole entry with his cock.... 

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

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

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

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

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

She knew, in minutes, he would be fucking her! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 CHAPTER FIVE 

The boxer has a hard-on! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That damned dog! Sniffing! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mavis' gaze swung with Terry's. Her eyes went to the boxer ... to his bag of 
balls and pointed prick. 

Mavis suppressed a gasp of surprise and distaste as she watched Miriam lean 
over and clutch the dog's sex pouch-jack him off gently until another inch 
or so of his prick crept out. 

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

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

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

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

God! the dog had a magnificent cock! Mavis couldn't prevent the muscles in 
her cunt from crawling.... 

"Ugh!" she murmured to herself. Then, her mind struggled with the question 
... HOW? 

And Connie and Miriam were giggling conspiratorially. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The dog knew what to do. 

He came up on her, between the out-flung thighs. "Guide him into her!" 
Miriam shrieked at Mavis. "Hold his cock so he can fuck it into her!" Mavis 
hesitated. 

"Do it, damnit! Or I'll tell a few things!" The dog's thing was protruding 
and protruding. Thicker and thicker, redder and redder. And his rump was 
fuck-fucking fruitlessly. And Mavis crept across the floor.... 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pump-pump! Prick slammed into her uterus. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 * * * 

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

 CHAPTER SIX 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * * 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good, God, NO!" Mavis flushed. 

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

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

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

"Nooooo!" 

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

"Whaaaaaat?" Connie giggled. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She didn't say anything, felt helpless and cornered. "What?" Dell asked. 

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

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

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

Mavis suspected Connie had whispered the proposition to him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she would sleep.... 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mavis watched Miriam, wearing snug shorts and a loose middie blouse, strut 
to the bar with the men's glasses and mix drinks. The men paused in their 
play until Miriam returned to hand them fresh highballs. She didn't bother 
circling the table to serve, but leaned out over the table-and the blouse 
sagged and Miriam wasn't wearing a damned thing under it. 

Her opulent breasts were clearly visible to any man who wanted to look. "Get 
your hand off my bottom-whoever you are!" she challenged. And Mavis-she 
couldn't tell who-knew that either Ben Glover or Mickey Lewis was sneaking a 
feel of Miriam's legs and ass! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked up as Miriam rejoined them. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her thoughts were interrupted when Dell strolled in, serious and pale. 
"Let's go, Becky. It's late." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

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

He was the one who was going to get her! 

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

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

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

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

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

SLUT! her mind shouted at her. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was going to fuck her on her own kitchen floor! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Slock-slurp; slock-slock. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We better get back," Hank said realistically. 

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

 CHAPTER NINE 

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

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

Mavis glanced about the room and squirmed with dismay when she found the 
others weren't there. Had Miriam succeeded in luring Phil away? Already, 
their naked bodies might be entwined, Phil struggling between her sleek 
thighs, shoving his horn into her body, giving Miriam the pleasure that 
should be hers? 

She didn't give a damn if Mickey Lewis were fucking Connie-but the thought 
of her husband pumping his wonderful prick into Mariam's hairless pussy 
almost made her cry. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mavis sipped at her whiskey as she watched Glover run the big toe of his 
right foot up and down the flattened crack of Terry's ass, digging it at the 
stretched butt hole. Then-Mavis felt a little like wretching-Glover used his 
toe to spread Terry's outer pussy lips and ran it up and down the reddish, 
slicky inner petal folds. Don't fuck her with your foot, Mavis frowned. Use 
your big dick. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 CHAPTER TEN 

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

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

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

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

"Hello?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mavis could see the stud horse man lean forward. 

"I am afraid I may have to do something that may send Dell-damn him!-to the 
penitentiary." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she was going to watch him do it! 

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

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

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

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

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

"A solution?" Becky sobbed softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Whaaaat?" Becky murmured as if hypnotized. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, now you are going to get it, Becky, darling! Mavis thought, as Willie 
waddled in behind her like a bull in heat in a pasture alone with a young 
heifer. 

He placed a hand on her quivering hip and used the other to bend his 
cockhead into her parted vulva. He pressed forward and shook his hips from 
side to side-right on target. 

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

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

He grunted and groaned, grasping the tiny young woman's heaving flanks. 
Relentlessly, he pulled her body back onto him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wonderful, sexy little bitch! Mavis marveled as she soared into her own 
climax, three fingers buried in her pussy, a thumb compressing her throbbing 
clit. 

Christ! how you love cock! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

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

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

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

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

The shock even shut off Willie's scream. She hit him again in the gonads; 
again-right on his cunt-slimed tusk. He wilted to the floor on his back in 
misery. 

"I know your game, Willie! And you won't get my dough! You can have whatever 
you want-from others-but not from me!" Mavis turned and called to Becky, "In 
here, honey!" 

When Becky weaved into the small bathroom, Mavis said to Willie, "Tell her 
what she has to do!" 

Willie seemed to put his pain out of his mind as he stared at his recent 
conquest who had gotten dressed. "You will come back every week," he said. 

"And you will fuck me twenty times-and give me a thousand dollars, Mr. 
Quentin," Becky nodded, a feverish light in her eyes. 

"Yeeesss," Willie mumbled. 

"When do I come back for our next fuck?" Becky smiled wanly. 

"We-shall-fuck-again-Wednesday," Willie muttered, flopping slowly back on 
the floor, one hand holding his big balls, the other nursing his aching 
penis. 

"Yes, Mr. Quentin-you will fuck me again Wednesday...." 

* * * 

Mavis led Becky to her old car, eased the slip of a woman into the 
passenger's seat. Then she drove back to the bank and redeposited the 
thousand dollars. She smiled at Becky when she returned to the car. 

Becky wore a wistful expression, "I had IT! I seemed to go all to pieces! 
You know what Mr. Quentin did to me, don't you, Mrs. Moran? He put his 
man-thing in me-fuuuucccckkked me! And-" her voice turned dreamy, 
thoughtful-"I liked it! It hurt a little bit at first, especially when he 
seemed to tear me!" 

That's when she lost her cherry, Mavis mused, driving off. Oh, what a lovely 
baby-and BODY! Mavis pouted, deftly adjusting the mirror so she could glance 
up and see Becky's reflection as she drove. She wished Becky would relax, 
spread her knees-but she knew that Willie's jizz coated her inner legs. 
Damn! She would take Becky home and spruce her up! 

Mavis almost swept through a traffic signal. What was she thinking? How come 
her heart pounded so frantically and irregularly? She had heard-had read ... 
did she have hot nuts to love this dainty, vibrant young woman? Was she 
contemplating girl-girl love? Oh, my God! Mavis wailed mentally. Yes, she 
wanted to undress the little Becky, see her nudity, put her hands on that 
smooth, satiny skin! 

Then what would she do? Mavis' mouth turned dry ... then it was secreting 
juices, fast as she could swallow. Were these love juices? Her vision was 
filled with the traffic and green trees and children gamboling on smooth 
sidewalks-and ripe young tittie points! 

Mavis almost swooned as she drove into her own driveway. She had an 
insatiable craving to put her mouth where Willie's penis had explored. She 
was suddenly obsessed with the frantic desire to eat Becky's tender young 
pussy! 

Becky was docile as a pet as Mavis led her into the house, into the kitchen 
where she mixed two screwdrivers. Mavis turned to see Becky sip her drink, 
melt to the floor, sit Indian-fashion. And she noticed that the little 
strawberry blonde hadn't bothered-or thought about skinning into her 
panties. 

The pooch of her pussy allowed no hint that a huge prick had bored into 
those sweet lips, stretched them into a big doughnut! Mavis braced herself 
against the dinette table as she stared at that gorgeous young snatch, the 
puffy mound and pouting, full lips that now clung together-oh, so inviting 
to be pressed and kissed. 

Mavis clutched the edge of the table until the tips of her fingers ached. 
She longed to touch-tease a little-purse-part-caress-tug that reddish, curly 
hair that adorned the mound like a valuable crown of spun gold-put a finger 
in that orifice that, oh, so short a time ago had been plugged with a 
massive pecker that had gunned it full of vile male jizz! 

Mavis wanted to finish what Willie had left undone. She yearned to lick 
those puffy, pinkish lips and siphon out all of that secretion of lust. She 
wanted to suck Becky's cunny, clean, purify and launch that gorgeous ass 
into sexy orbit and hear those nasty, pleadings...."Ffffuuucccckkmmmeee!" 

There was a wistful, pouty smile on Becky's lips, a dreamy look of 
MMMMOOOOORRRRREEEEE in her greenish eyes. Although passion was mounting in 
Mavis' loins, she sensed a hot, burning dryness. She didn't know how, but 
she just knew she could do so much for the tender Becky. Conversely, she 
knew that Becky could do something for her. 

"Did it hurt-Becky-when he broke your-cherry? Did his big cock hurt you when 
he shoved it into your-pussy? How did it-feel-getting your first-fuck-from 
such a huge-cock?" 

She watched Becky and frowned as the small young woman shook her head, 
tossed her beautiful hair. "Was his thing-big? He did fuck me-didn't he? 
That is the word-FUCK?" 

Mavis peered at her intently as Becky stared into her eyes. She seemed 
dazed, disbelieving. "I was saving myself for-Dell! And Mr. Quentin stripped 
me naked-and played his hands on my body-squeezed my boobies-pushed his 
thing at me ... INTO ME ... and FUCKKKKKEDDDDMMMEE! ... He took my 
maidenhead ... F-U-C-K-E-D meeeeeee! I hurt-for a little mite of time! Then 
it was goooooood! I liked his fucking me!" 

Mavis inhaled deeply. She was puzzled. She wanted to scratch her own snatch. 

"He's a liar! Dell wouldn't steal from anyone! He lied! He conned me! At 
first, before I realized what was going on, I was terrified. I didn't 
understand until after he shoved his cock into me, broke my cherry and 
fucked me! But I loved it! I wish he was here now! That b-a-s-t-a-r-d! I 
would make him fuck me right now! I like fucking and to be fucked!" 

Mavis couldn't understand why she felt so weak as she mixed a pitcher of 
screwdrivers and urged Becky to her feet. The young woman said nothing as 
Mavis steered her upstairs to the master bedroom. How can I fuck her? Mavis 
worried, refilling their glasses and watching Becky drift onto the huge 
double bed. I can kiss her pussy and suck it and tongue it and dip my tongue 
into her vagina! I can-I can try to work my tongue into her asshole and make 
her cum like Willie did! 

Becky slugged at her drink as Mavis ran a full tub of extra-warm water. She 
cooed and purred as Mavis undressed her, assisting the removal of her 
clothing by turning, lifting ... lifting ... lifting. Mavis almost fainted 
with sensual hunger as Becky raised her fanny high, saluting the attention 
with a bump and grind of her enticing, hairy crotch and puffed vulva. 

How can I fuck her? Mavis pondered, stripping out of her own clothes. How 
does one woman fuck another? I can suck her-eat her juicy, delectable 
hairdish-but I can't fuck her! Only a man has a big prick and can fuck deep 
into a woman's pussy. 

She bent and kissed Becky's docile, pliant lips, let her greedy mouth 
nuzzle, trail to capture one of Becky's succulent tittie points. Mavis 
sucked hard, felt Becky's timid hand pressing into her own left breast. She 
was reassured by Becky's quickening breath.... 

Mavis would feel her way along. She would bathe the young thing good and bed 
her ... instinct would lead her ... maybe, Becky would eat her pussy, too! 

A hot shimmer shivered all through Mavis' body as the thought steamed in her 
mind. It would be wonderful to have a virgin love her cunt! She gently 
tugged Becky from the bed and urged her into the hot bath. As she was about 
to step in, too, the telephone rang. 

"Damnit!" Mavis swore softly, lunging back into the bedroom. "Hello!" 

"This is Phil, Mavis; 'fraid I'll be tied up until at least next Saturday. 
The ginks who pulled this job think they are pretty smart. It's about the 
same type of setup as the guys were talking about at the poker party. The 
same chain store, as a matter-of-fact. No security. One manager collects all 
of the money. Easy robbery. But I think, in this case, it is one of the 
armored van crews behind it. Should have it solved by Friday night. These 
bastards don't know how to cover tracks ... anyone with brains could rob 
these people and never be touched! See ya sometime Saturday." 

Mavis' tension and preoccupation with the naked young woman in the bath tub 
had no chance to change before Phil broke the connection. He was gone. All 
Mavis was left with was a vague, nagging worry and the sexual opportunity 
for girl-girl adventure. 

Trembling with anticipation, Mavis returned to the bathroom, pausing in the 
doorway to study the petite Becky who was lying in the full tub of warm 
water, knees drawn up and flung apart, saucy breast mounds bobbing firmly. 
Her pretty lips arched slightly in a smile of beautific contentment. Her 
half-closed eyes almost formed a question of what happens next, but not 
quite. 

When Mavis stepped into the tub, between Becky's feet, the strawberry blonde 
woman drew herself up slightly in the tub to make room for her. Mavis 
shivered with pleasure as she squatted and the hottish water lapped against 
her taut buttocks and splashed into the gentle gape of her swollen, excited 
vulva. She felt her clitoris stiffening and extending out of its little 
fleshy sheath and she was growing passionately hot. 

To restrain herself from all but attacking the enticing young beauty, she 
picked up the large bar of perfumed soap in both hands and began to rub it 
up and down the inner planes of Becky's silky thighs. 

"Aaaaahhhh-ooooh!" Becky sighed, closing her eyes and tilting her head back 
as Mavis worked the smooth soap up and down her legs, each stroke reaching 
nearer and nearer the glorious vee of those perfect legs. She has a healthy 
fur patch, Mavis squinted at Becky's gently rounded pussy that had 
accommodated such an enormous cock for the first time just a short time 
before. She had to admit there was no evidence that Willie's penis had 
stretched it out of shape. She was young, her labia very elastic and 
resilient, Mavis marveled, at last grazing the puffy flesh with its lavish 
growth of curly pubic hair. 

"Aaaaahhhh!" Becky murmured and Mavis could see the muscles crawl in Becky's 
pussy, then up over her curvy body to rub the proud titties with erect 
nipples. 

"Ooooooohhhhhh-la-laaaaa!" Becky cooed as Mavis built a rich lather on the 
firm melons with the bar in one hand and using the other to caress and 
squeeze and tease the dark brownish-pink point. You're a sensuous young 
lady. Mavis thought, letting the soap slip away and using both hands on 
Becky's breasts. Why haven't you let Dell get into you before this? There 
are a few of us who know that he is a virile young stud with a very adequate 
and eloquent tuba. Didn't he gun me and Connie and Miriam full of thick he 
cream? How did you manage to keep him out of your sexy saddle? Mavis wanted 
to ask as she trailed her hands down over Becky's narrow waist and let her 
fingers dally with Becky's pert mound and the tight crease formed by the 
lips of her almost virginal snatch. 

"Did it hurt when Willie broke your cherry?" Mavis asked, forgetting she had 
asked the question before. 

"A little," Becky murmured. "But it was more surprise and not really knowing 
what to expect from his big dick than anything else. He was really quite 
gentle, in a way. I have heard and read that often a girl's first experience 
with coitus is the next thing to being butchered. But Mr. Quentin really 
fucked me quite gently. God! Is his thing huge! But," and Mavis frowned at 
the faint smirk on Becky's lips, "I'm already looking forward to the next 
time he fucks me. I wish there was some way I could watch Dell at work while 
Mr. Quentin fucks me, not knowing his fiancee was being screwed!" 

Mavis was stunned slightly by the sex ingenue's frank admission. In spite of 
her fairly broad sexual experiences, Mavis was in doubt that she could 
function to any degree of satisfaction if Phil were watching some other man 
fuck her! 

Becky's satisfied purring ended Mavis' distraction and she glanced down at 
Becky's squirming body to see that her fingers had parted the full, ripe 
petals and had dipped into the full blossom of Becky's aroused twat. "Let's 
get out and dry," Mavis said, almost curtly. 

Mavis' passion had cooled somewhat and she stepped away from Becky and the 
two of them dried themselves. Becky seemed to be pouted. Had she expected 
Mavis to dry and excite her with the towel? A quick glance told Mavis that 
Becky wanted more by-play, wanted hands on her naked body. As passionate as 
she was, Mavis mused, how had she managed to keep some man from getting to 
her, romping between those golden thighs in bed or the back seat of a car? 

And how innocent was she? The crude, vulgar words sprang easily from her 
lips ... the coarse words had never come freely and with ease with her. She 
had had a variety of men chunk the meat into her before she would even 
permit her mind to shape the word, fuck! Yet, Becky spoke it like a 
hard-bitten whore! Well, what the hell? She raked the rough towel through 
her crotch and tingled the clit and she almost gasped aloud with sensual 
pleasure. 

She tossed the towel into a hamper and reached into a closet for a bottle 
with an atomizer. Squatting halfway to the floor, Mavis sprayed her genital 
area with the stingless cologne, then under her arms. Without a word, she 
handed the bottle with the rubber bulb to Becky who followed suit. 

"At least we have nice-smelling cunnies," Mavis smiled, patting Becky on the 
pert behind and fingering the enticing crease of her butt. 

"I like Mr. Quentin's spray hose and perfume," Becky giggled. "Maybe we 
oughta get him over here and milk him dry-take turns. I've heard of gals 
gang-banging a guy as well as the other way around!" 

"How about Dell?" Mavis asked, deliberately attempting to cut the young 
woman. 

"Weeeellll, why not?" Becky smirked, striding naked ahead of Mavis into the 
bedroom and pouring a fresh drink. 

Maybe what little they had drunk had induced Becky to speak so easily and 
profusely about-screwing! Mavis mused. What baffled her was how to proceed 
with her seduction of this juicy young thing. Mavis was itchy with 
anticipation and heat was generating all through her tummy as she watched 
the healthy young animal set aside her empty glass and crawl into the center 
of the bed. "Mavis," Becky said hesitantly, invitingly, "please play with me 
and see if you can give me those tingly thrills Mr. Quentin did. Please?" 

Straightforward, Mavis suppressed a frown. But what, really, do I do? She 
had been tight and only vaguely remembered the sex-working-over she, 
herself, had received from Miriam and Connie. Maybe she should call them! 

Hell, no! She wanted this pliant young sex-gadget for herself. Mavis was 
giddy and a little awkward as she climbed onto the bed with her tits swaying 
gently. 

"Oooooohhhhh, Mavis!" Becky breathed, "you have beautiful boobies. Let's 
have some real fun! I've heard that girls can make each other feel sooooo 
gooooood! Kiss my titties and I'll kiss yours. I think we're going to have a 
yummy afternoon! Oh, golly! my hole-both holes-itch and twitch and burn!" 

Mavis maneuvered across Becky so that she could suck onto one of Becky's 
hard little nipples and her own left breast was pressed firmly against 
Becky's face. Instantly, Becky's hot little tongue curled around a tittie 
point and it was nursed into Becky's wet, avid mouth. Christ! she thought, 
she had never sucked another girl's tit before. She liked it! And she knew, 
instinctively, she would have no hang-ups about tonguing and sucking Becky's 
aromatic pussy! She cupped a hand firmly over Becky's hairy snatch and the 
young woman began squirming and writhing on the sheet. "Put your finger in 
my cunny, Mavis!" Becky begged as Mavis cleaved the hot lips and fingered 
the dainty sex-nub. 

As she nibbled a nipple, then licked Becky's armpit, Mavis hoped, fervently, 
that the hot young thing would mouth-love her pussy-the way Mavis was going 
to eat hers. 

Slowly, carefully, Mavis shifted position, swung her left leg over Becky and 
lowered her bottom toward the small woman's upturned face. The girl's lips 
and mouth continued to work in a suckling manner after Mavis had withdrawn 
her breast berry. She stopped when she could feel Becky's breath gently 
fanning against her anus and parted crease. 

As Mavis nestled her own face into Becky's perfumed crotch, Becky's legs 
rose straight into the air, thighs flung wide, and Mavis was able to plow 
her tongue into the juicy groove and dip it deep into the vibrating vagina. 
At the same time, she pressed her own hairy snatch against Becky's face and 
her love partner latched her mouth onto the full folds of tender flesh and 
dived her tongue into Mavis' hungry pussy. 

Becky began shuddering first, then Mavis couldn't control her own thunderous 
pleasure that rippled through her loins. In unison, they started gurgling, 
"Ooooohhh-Aaaaaghhh!" 

Their climaxes were shattering. Becky was bucking and up-fucking with her 
bottom as her legs latched behind Mavis' neck. And Mavis sucked deeply and 
snaked her tongue far into the girl's steaming pussy and reveled in the grip 
of inner muscles and she lapped greedily. And Becky was sucking noisily and 
chewing gently on the thick, swollen passion-petals of Mavis' 
fuck-receptacle. 

Later, they lay entwined in each other's arms, hot titties crushed together, 
sleek thighs working together as they rubbed their Venus mounds together, 
girl fucking.... 

 CHAPTER TWELVE 

Mavis awoke slowly, grateful that she could abandon the subconscious and the 
nightmare of reality she had lived the past few weeks. She felt funny, 
tingly all over. She worked a hand under the sheet and touched her highly 
sensitive breasts. Then her hand slid lower and she found her crowning glory 
was, indeed, gone. Her mound was smooth-skinned and she couldn't find a 
single tendril of curly hair on her puffed, sensitive outer labia. The 
nurses HAD shorn her completely. Phil had told her so, but she wasn't sure 
he had talked to her or whether it was all part of a dream. 

But her crotch was smooth and slick and a trifle raw from the effects of the 
tape and the razor. She pulled her foot up under the sheet and spread her 
knees wide. Well, she thought, eyes darting about the hospital room, that 
bastard hadn't damaged anything but her pride, really. She pressed a finger 
into her vulva. "All the working parts are intact," she giggled softly. 

She wondered what all those cops had thought, finding her and Willie tied up 
in his office, without a stitch on and their genital areas swathed in 
adhesive tape. She knew she should feel a sense of embarrassment at having 
strange men see her naked, but there was only relief that they had been 
rescued. Poor Willie! Mavis would bet the hospital had had a hell of a time 
getting the tape off his hard-on-and he probably didn't have a hair left on 
his balls! 

Mavis wolfed a breakfast of fruit juice, hot cereal, toast, coffee and two 
poached eggs. She was enjoying her third cup of coffee when her husband 
swept into the room, kissed her quickly and reached under the bedclothes to 
cup her hairless pussy. "This will be like screwing a ten-year-old virgin," 
he teased. 

"I was raped, Phil," Mavis frowned, worried eyes studying his. 

"It could be worse, baby," Phil said, kissing her forehead and clasping one 
of her hands. "No real damage done." 

"Did you screw Miriam that night?" she blurted suddenly. 

"Let's put it this way," Phil replied softly, strolling away, his back to 
her as he stared out the only window in the room. "I was a little drunk-and 
she screwed me." 

"Hank got to me, too," she confessed, holding her breath, fearful of male 
denunciation growing from injured ego. She almost screamed at him to say 
something, he was so silent for so long. 

Finally, Phil turned and winked solemnly, reassuringly. "I guess we're even 
on that score." 

Conversation was stalled for a minute as a nurse entered with a fresh pot of 
coffee and an extra cup, for Phil. "How about more coffee?" she smiled 
superfluously and was gone. 

"The robbers got about $238,000 in cash and another $22,000 in checks," Phil 
said slowly, filling their cups. "The bonding company has banned me from the 
case." 

"Why?" Mavis said with a start, and an old fear assailed her again. Was Phil 
involved in the robbery? Was he under suspicion? She had heard the men all 
talking about how easy it would be to rob Willie! 

"I'm an acquaintance-a friend-of Willie's. Even Hank has been taken off the 
case by the Salt Lake Police Department-for the same reason." 

"Who's investigating?" Mavis asked weakly. 

"The SLCPD-and Ben Glover for the bonding company." 

"Why Glover?" Mavis fretted. "He's an acquaintance of Willie and Hank and 
you!" 

"Not a close friend," Phil said bluntly, "certainly not a neighbor like Hank 
and me." 

Mavis didn't like the tight, cold knot in her stomach. Was Phil involved? 
She wanted to, but knew she didn't dare ask. 

"Well, I don't care," Phil laughed, seemingly relaxed and sincere. "It's 
going to be a tough one to crack. A real professional job. The two armored 
van guards-they were chloroformed or something and didn't, really, see a 
thing. Hell! They lost another couple of hundred grand or so from their 
rig!" 

They finished their coffee and Mavis watched Phil pick up the small suitcase 
he had set just inside the door. "I brought you some clothes. Why don't you 
get dressed and let's go home?" 

Mavis smiled happily, threw back the sheet and scrambled off the bed. For a 
minute, she surveyed her reddened, irritated titties and hairless pubic 
mound. "I don't think I like being hairless," she complained wistfully. 

"I like it," Phil grinned, a finger nudging the unwhiskered smile of her 
pussy and a hand caressing the smooth cheeks of her butt. 

"Don't mess," Mavis said sulkily, remembering that Miriam shaved her crotch. 
Had her husband enjoyed fucking Miriam? she fretted on the way home. A sense 
of frustration almost overwhelmed her. Phil liked Miriam's slick cunt-and he 
hadn't diddled her in a long time! Well, she had to admit that Hank had 
given her a real humping in the kitchen! And Willie certainly knew how to 
get a girl to spin like a sex top! And Dell had made her cum, like wowee! 
And Erroll Flynn-the Carrs' Boxer! And les-love had its kicks! The 
robber-rapist she hadn't enjoyed at all! 

As she and Phil approached the back door, Mavis remembered something that 
caused her to stop. She remembered, as the robber dropped his coveralls and 
shorts and she stared at his dong, she had seen a wart on the left side, 
about an inch back of the dark, swollen glans. And it had raked the wall of 
her vagina with a certain tantalizing effect. 

If she saw that penis again, she would know who had fucked her! Maybe she 
should tell Henry Carr what she remembered! She shook her head and frowned 
at her own stupidity. She could just hear Hank say, "How do I put out an 
all-points bulletin for a guy with a wart on his pecker?" 

In the house, as Phil mixed a couple of scotch and waters, Mavis was still 
preoccupied and troubled. Phil hadn't been perturbed that she had been 
raped-hadn't seem particularly affected by her announcement that Hank had 
pumped the prick to her. Well, he had admitted he had prickered Miriam's 
pussy! 

Should she tell him about the robber-rapist? Maybe he would be peaved to 
find his wife paid close attention to a man's dingus before he socked it to 
her cunt! 

What the hell! She was getting tired of being a sex captive, of sorts. "The 
guy who banged me during the robbery had a wart on his shaft!" she blurted. 
"About an inch behind the head!" 

Instead of being irritated by the admission his wife inspected pricks before 
they were stabbed into her snatch, Phil seemed to beam. "Goddamn! I feel 
this has to be a close-to-home heist! And that may be just the clue we 
need!" Then he wilted slightly. "How the hell do you find a guy with a wart 
on his business?" 

Mavis shrugged. That was similar to the comment she would expect from Police 
Lieutenant Henry Carr. 

The gnawing worry that her husband had something to do with the supermarket 
robbery lingered with Mavis. "Whom do you suspect, Phil?" she asked 
cautiously. 

"Absolutely nobody-at this time," he frowned. "It was a real, professional 
job!" That didn't make Mavis feel any better; her husband, because of his 
background in insurance investigation, could qualify as an expert in such a 
venture. 

"I wouldn't want any of the money," she said timidly. 

"You wouldn't want part of about four-hundred grand?" Phil chuckled dryly. 
"All in unmarked, untraceable bills!" 

Mavis felt like crying. 

About three o'clock, the Carrs came over and Mavis was grateful for the 
break in the awkwardness between Phil and her. 

"Willie has a slight concussion and the blackest eye I ever saw," Hank 
chuckled as Phil served drinks. 

"And eight inches of the rawest meat this side of the butcher shop!" Miriam 
laughed. "That oughta keep his sausage out of a girl's grinder for a while!" 

"When they took all of that tape off Mavis," Phil said with his slow, shy, 
engaging grin, "they-" he paused to sip his scotch-"I guess I'll have to get 
her a hairpiece." 

"They shaved her?" Miriam chortled with glee. 

Mavis reddened. 

"Smooth as Miriam?" Hank grinned. "Absolutely!" Phil replied. 

"I'll be damned!" Hank almost choked on his drink and a sliver of ice. 

"You'd be shaved-not damned!" Miriam corrected. "I've never seen a man 
without bushes and bushes of cockle hair!" 

And Mavis knew that Phil, truly, had screwed Miriam-and Hank knew it. And 
Phil and Miriam knew that she had been plundered by Hank's cock; his 
stallion had stampeded all through her sex corral! 

Mavis glanced at Phil and recognized he wasn't about to mention her 
knowledge that one of the robbers had a wart on his dong! And she wouldn't 
say anything, either. 

"How much does the police know about the job?" Phil asked, rising to mix 
another round and sauntering out to the kitchen for a couple of cigars from 
the refrigerator. 

"I found out that there was no death in the family of one of Willie's 
employees-the cashier, I think. That's about all I found out before I was 
taken off the case early this morning. The notice really came from Ogden, 
not Los Angeles." 

"What do you really think, Hank? An 'inside' job?" Phil pursued. 

"Who can tell, at this time? I know that I took two weeks of my vacation, 
starting today when I was relieved of the investigation." 

Were their friends and neighbors involved? Mavis fretted, wishing she wasn't 
getting drunk so she could think clearly. She tried to recall, in detail, 
the animal-like thrusts of the robber's cock into her cunt. She remembered, 
not quite clearly, the rasp of the wart in her vagina as he fucked her. It 
had sent sharp electrical sparks all through her pelvic region as it rasped 
the wall of her channel. Then he had sunk his cock deep and shot her full of 
his jizz. 

She couldn't remember-but she didn't recall that Willie had a wart on his 
dong. And she had watched it all taped up. Hell! She had even jacked him off 
to make him hard! But she couldn't remember. Oh, that didn't figure. He had 
been bound into his chair and the guy who had screwed her while she was all 
tied up was the guy with the node on his pussy-knocker! I guess I am getting 
drunk! She hadn't seen Hank's pecker. He had fucked her from behind, in the 
dark kitchen. She didn't know whether she had felt a wart or not. She had 
been tense and apprehensive. Who else had fucked her? She wasn't sure about 
Dell Emerson; that had been almost like rape-under threat. 

Who? She had seen Glover's cock, vaguely, as he plunged it into Terry Lewis. 
But it had been dark. Oh, damn! She was starting to suspect everyone she 
knew. It probably was none of them-she hoped. 

But, if she could find the guy with the wart on his penis, she would have 
one of the gangsters. And that might lead to the others. There was one thing 
she had to do-that was clear in her alcohol-fuzzed brain-to find the guy 
with the raspy little lump on the side of his peter! 

How? Maybe she would start up or down through the ranks and screw the most 
likely suspects. Why not Hank first? He was here! 

The prospect of a hunt for a certain pecker started a warm tingling in her 
loins and Mavis sensed hot juices perking all through her itching vagina. 
She nodded as Miriam excused herself to go to the bathroom. Then Henry 
remembered a telephone call he wanted to make and said, "I'll use the 
extension in the kitchen." 

As soon as Mavis and Phil were alone, her husband asked, "Do you suppose 
Hank might be THE guy? You really don't remember from the night he pumped 
his prick to you?" 

Mavis frowned. "No, I don't." 

She remembered the exquisite sensation of having her twat filled with 
mammoth prick and his harsh hairiness rasping against her fanny cheeks and 
the backs of her thighs. But a wart on his sex-pole? No. 

"Maybe you should take steps to find out," Phil said, frankly inviting her 
to take on Hank as if he had no more concern about his wife screwing another 
man than if he had suggested that she start dinner. 

"Oh, Phil!" Mavis demurred. And she was troubled again by the possibility of 
identifying the robber who had fucked her. What if he did turn out to be one 
of their close acquaintances-and Phil were involved? Yet, maybe he wasn't a 
party to the crime. She just couldn't visualize her husband standing by and 
letting some guy screw her during the robbery when it wasn't necessary. 
However, it occurred to her, he could have been part of the gang and had 
remained outside the store. 

Oh, Christ! She didn't know whom to suspect! "Phil, you don't really think 
our friends could be involved, do you?" 

"If I were investigating this thing-which I'm not-I would look at it as an 
inside job," Phil said, "and that includes Willie." 

"Not Willie, honey," Mavis protested. "You didn't see the way that guy 
slugged him." 

"Maybe you're right about Willie," Phil shrugged as Henry and Miriam 
rejoined them. "There's one way we-you-can start eliminating possibilities." 

And this meaning was obvious-seduce the suspects! 

After Phil had distributed fresh drinks, Mavis frowned at him. "Okay! But no 
one is going to watch!" 

Phil only answered with a grin, nodding as Mavis shifted position casually 
on the sofa and let her skirt brush high up on her thighs. Her sex scenery 
wasn't missed by Hank's eyes and Mavis thought she detected a telltale 
swelling as he steamed up slightly. 

It would be no trouble to seduce Hank-but she was damned if she were going 
to let Miriam and Phil watch her examine Hank's dong for a wart, then flop 
onto her back and let him fuck her! 

Well, get Miriam out of here! Mavis fretted mentally. II I'm going to lay 
Hank, I want both of you out of here! Hank's eyes were drawn to her parted 
knees, trying to stare up her skirt to her panty-clad pussy. And Mavis felt 
his gaze was almost a physical touch on her bare skin and she was beginning 
to get a little hot. She leaned toward her husband and said softly, a little 
bitchily, "It's been a long time since I've seen yours-maybe you've 
developed a wart in that time." 

"Bullshit!" Phil snapped and Mavis watched him shuffle on the sofa, 
noticeably uncomfortable and perhaps a little guilty. 

"We're about out of booze," Phil said offhandedly. "I think I better take a 
trip to the liquor store. Who wants to go along? Hank? Miriam? Just to make 
sure I can find my way back." 

"Let me go, Phil," Miriam said quickly. "I want to get some things at the 
supermarket and the pharmacy next door." 

Mavis turned her head to hide a scowl. You slut! You want to get in my 
husband's pants again! 

"Okay, let's go," Phil said amiably, clearly pleased that Miriam was going 
with him. And Mavis pouted, And you want another crack at her cookie jar! 

In seconds, Mavis was left alone with Hank whose eyes were becoming glazed 
with passion as he continued trying to penetrate her panties with his eyes 
to explored her freshly shaved crotch. She spread her legs a little wider, 
giving him a totally unobstructed view of the silk-covered joy place. "You 
old dog," she said lightly, "you want to bury your bone in it, don't you?" 

She winked at him as he gulped his drink. You bastard, stare! I know you 
didn't see it that night, it was too dark in the kitchen. All you got was a 
lustful feel and you shoved it to me from behind and unloaded your jizz. 
Well, you'll get a good look at it today! 

Mavis didn't have to force a dazzling smile of invitation. She was beginning 
to appreciate Hank's lecherous stare up her dress. She squirmed slightly and 
her dress was rolled up in her lap and her long, tapering legs were in full 
view. Hank feasted his eyes on the inner softness of her creamy thighs and 
the rich curve of her pussy. 

"I don't expect them back for a while," Mavis murmured. "Wanta finish what 
you started the other night?" 

"What?" Hank muttered, a little dumbly, his mouth working as if he were 
already gobbling her pussy. Mavis made the muscles slither in her thighs and 
Hank's eyes bulged. 

"You didn't give me a complete fucking," she smiled, slowly unbuttoning her 
blouse and slipping it off. She arched her back, lifting her bra-encased 
titties high. "Like?" she teased as she removed the bra and moved her body 
from side to side, causing her ripe boobies to jounce before Hank's feverish 
gaze. "You just had your own jollies," she pouted, "a girl likes to be 
fucked with a good prick until she has her fun, too. And you have such a 
magnificent cock, Hank," she added, praising and flattering him, but meaning 
it, too. 

His big meat was wonderful; it had filled her cunny to the brim. And she was 
getting more anxious to crack his big nuts and have his thick cream whipped 
in her churning box. 

And it was obvious, from the husky bulge in Hank's trousers that he was 
well-armed, even though he had left his police revolver at home, that he was 
getting huge, and had a high-caliber gun barrel. Just the banana for her hot 
split! 

Mavis' vagina was crawling with the sensation of an active sponge, twitching 
in its eagerness to soak up Hank's ready phallus. She stood and leaned 
forward slightly, tempting Hank with her full titties, tips swollen and 
hard. She hoisted her skirt from the back, not letting him see her, and 
grasped the waistband of her panties. She worked them off over her rump and 
down her long legs. She let them skid to the floor and kicked them off, 
giving Hank only a flirty glimpse above her knees. She was all but ready, 
yet Hank was still fully clothed. Get naked, she was tempted to shout at 
him. Let me examine that big thing of yours, then let's fuck! 

"Is this a one-sided exhibition?" Mavis challenged, turning her back to Hank 
and shaking out of her skirt. She stood motionless for nearly a minute, 
letting him ogle her naked back and full buttocks. She worked the muscles, 
pinching the half moons of her ass firmly against the long, curving crease. 

She didn't want him from the rear this time; she wanted him between her 
spraddled thighs with her feet kicking high in the air so she could gobble 
all of his massive cock in her cunt mouth. 

Mavis was aware of a warm stickiness between her legs as she crawled onto 
the sofa and lay down, careful to draw up her right leg to shield her shaved 
pussy from Hank's lustful eyes. Jeez! How they burned with passion, the heat 
in them a match for the fire raging deep in her womb. "Get your clothes off, 
Hank!" She had almost forgotten, in her rising frenzy to be serviced and 
sated by his long stud-tool, that she was only doing this in order to try to 
trap the robber who had plugged her twat while she was helpless. God! She 
wanted cock in her snatch! She needed a vigorous sex-romp with male meat 
pounding long and smooth into her vag! Well, it wouldn't take much time to 
inspect Hank's hot, hard shaft for a wart, then they would fuck! 

"Hurry!" she panted, wiggling her fingers in his direction. She couldn't 
keep her fanny from lurching in coital grinds on the sofa. It kept bouncing 
erratically as erotic flames leaped and seared her viscous twat. Her flanks 
heaved and her loins ached and her vagina clutched hungrily for a meal of 
fat cock. She smiled encouragingly as he stood and began undressing. In 
seconds, after she checked his tusk, she would have him inside her, pumping 
the prick to her, relieving the sensual tensions. God! She needed a cum! 

"Hurry, fuck-partner," she begged, "I want that huge prick in me! I want it 
fucked in deep!" 

Mavis didn't have to look down at herself to know that the puffy pussy lips 
were gaping in a slight smile and her vulva was like a greedy mouth waiting 
to devour Hank's cock-sirloin. And-there it was-he had plenty of it. Long! 
Thick! Hard as an oak branch! A wonderful fuck-tool! 

She watched Hank approach, stiff-legged, his big bone wobbling from side to 
side as he walked. Then she reached with a trembling hand to tease his big 
nuts with the tips of her fingers. Tenderly, she seized his shaft near the 
hair-matted base and bent it toward her. She was tempted to suck him off, it 
looked so delicious! She slid the thick, tight skin back. She had milked 
down a lot of cocks and she knew she could make him cum by jacking him 
off-with only a few strokes. God! His shaft was rock-hard and hot as a 
poker! She didn't want him to shoot his goodies under the goadings of her 
hand. She wanted him to hose his jizz into her sex-starved pussy! 

She gripped it tight and studied the thick-skinned dong. There wasn't a sign 
of a wart. He wasn't the man who had screwed her during the robbery of 
Willie's store. Well, she wasn't going to be left empty-handed-empty-handed? 
She had a handful of magnificent pussy-pleaser and she was going to have 
this massive male member crammed into her snatch, hauled out and rammed back 
in and she was going to cum and cum and CUM! 

"Okay," she said huskily, shuffling on the sofa to make room for his spread 
knees between her parted thighs. "Let's have fun! Come on, Hank, let's 
fuck!" 

As he positioned himself between her veed legs, knees against her tense ass, 
she seized his prick in both hands. "I'll guide it in," she panted, pressing 
the pear-shaped knob into her vulva, massaging the red inner lips, then 
aiming it against the fluttering opening to her ravenous snatch. 

"Aaaaaahhhhhhh," she whimpered with passionate anticipation as Hank slowly 
nudged his cockhead into her throbbing vagina. "Ooooooohhhhhhhhh, sooooooo 
goooooodddddd! Fucking is such ffffuuuunnnnn!" she dug her nails into his 
shoulders, leaving red tracings of her wantonness. 

She jerked her fanny up and down and around to assist Hank as he slowly 
drove his shaft all of the way into her until his hairy balls bounced 
against her uptilted butt. The pucker string of her anus felt like a burning 
ring of fire. "God! Fuck me, Hank. Fuck me hard and make me cum!" she 
begged. 

Wham! Bang! After several slurpy, industrious pumps, Mavis felt she was 
about to shatter. His cock's head slammed past the cervix, into the womb. 
There was the pungent aroma of male and female sex-heat thick in her 
narrowed nares as Hank fucked her faster and faster. 

Sloosh! Sloosh! Sloosh! His prick plunged in and out of her cunt. "I'm 
cuuuummmmiiiinnnng!" 

A scream of rapture bounced off the walls and the ceiling as Hank pounded 
the cod into her and she humped her ass to meet his pistoning cock-thrusts. 
Spasms of erotic pleasure gripped her and her whole body felt like flowing 
lava. 

She didn't have the robber between her legs, but she had a master-fucker 
riding and bouncing and bucking in her fuck-saddle. And he really knew how 
to thud the meat to a girl. 

"Fffffuuuucccckkkk mmeeee faster and deeeeppppeeeerrrr!" 

She was like a shooting star and sparks of passion seemed to be exploding 
everywhere. She wouldn't have cared less as she careened through her violent 
pleasure had she known that her husband and Miriam were parked in the Carr 
garage with the double door closed. 

Phil was sipping raw scotch from a bottle as Miriam sucked him off, savoring 
his cock and giving him a sapping blow-job. 

She was in the thrall of her fifth climax and Hank was gunning his jizz into 
her snatch as Miriam and Phil shifted into the back seat to fuck until their 
sex-heat steamed up the car windows. 

 CHAPTER THIRTEEN 

Mavis awoke with the sweet realization that she was naked atop the covers in 
hers and Phil's bedroom. My husband, she thought, must have carried me 
upstairs to bed. She stretched slowly, deliciously. Criminy! Hank Carr gave 
me a good fuck! 

Her cunny still crawled and convulsed with the pleasure of having his huge 
cock socked into it. 

With eyes still closed, Mavis caressed her firm titties and pinched the 
nipples. One thing, though, she frowned: Hank wasn't the robber who had 
raped her. She reviewed the situation quickly. And it hadn't been Willie 
Quentin. And she was positive it wasn't Dell Emerson. Who? Her quest for the 
man with the tantalizing growth-or wart-on the side of his penis might never 
be fulfilled. She could fuck all the Mormons and Catholics in Utah and still 
not find him! What a helluva way to try to help her husband crack a 
robbery-bed all the men around! 

Mavis stifled a giggle. What a delightful way to , conduct an investigation 
... give all the suspects the third degree between her thighs, grilling 
them-and their peters-in her pussy! 

She turned onto her side and opened her eyes slowly. She squinted and smiled 
broadly. Phil was lying on his back beside her. He was blessed with a 
massive hard-on and his husky gonads were rolled high in their crinkled sac. 

Delicately, Mavis raked a fingernail across the purplish head and restrained 
the desire to laugh as her hubby's stomach muscles crawled and his erect 
penis trembled. Gently, she jacked him off, just running the tip of an index 
finger over his thick shaft, working the tight, thick skin up and down. 

Phil groaned; his ass bucked upward to meet her touch. "She sucked the whole 
thing," Phil mumbled and a smile brightened his expression. "She ate and 
sucked and swallowed the whole thing." 

Mavis pouted, then frowned. He was talking about Miriam Carr. It was clear 
to her. Miriam had given Phil a blow-job-and it was still in his mind. She 
has to be a master at cock-sucking, Mavis thought, if the pleasure she gives 
a man will dominate his subconscious. Mavis raised on an elbow to study her 
husband. Phil had been sucked off and he, obviously, had liked the lips of a 
woman-Miriam-lapped around his dong, slavering and licking and sucking! 

"Christ!" Mavis whispered softly, "he still has lipstick all over his 
pecker-and it's matted in his cock hair and smeared all over his belly and 
balls." 

You bastard! she swore softly, taking hold of his long, hot shaft. She began 
to masturbate him in a determined manner and his body jerked rhythmically. 

"Oooooohhhhh," Phil mumbled. "She sucked and ate the whole thing." 

Mavis jacked him off with greater diligence, rising to use both hands on his 
prick. Faster and faster. If it hadn't been for Miriam's mouth paint all 
over her husband's genitals, she would have been tempted to blow him 
herself! But she drew the line. She decided she would see if he had any jizz 
left in his reservoir.... 

"And he does...." she smirked as she felt the tensing in his pipe. She 
worked harder on his joint. 

"Shoot, you bastard! Shoot your cum all over yourself!" 

She whipped her hands up and down on his cock and kept it up all the time 
Phil ejaculated thick spurts of sperm all over his belly, even up into his 
chest hair. 

He awakened with a start and frowned as he realized that Mavis had jacked 
him off all over himself. Then he grinned as she scampered off the bed. "At 
least Miriam didn't create a mess." He swatted futilely at her naked butt. 

"She may have sucked you off and you didn't get cum all over everything," 
Mavis corrected, "but she left you a mess-your club all painted up for war. 
I'll make some coffee." 

"It wasn't Hank, was it?" Phil called after her. 

"He doesn't have a wart on his dingus," Mavis replied. 

As Mavis was fixing breakfast, Phil received a telephone call. Over their 
third cups of coffee, he said, "I have to chase my ass over to Reno. That 
was my boss on the phone. And, according to him, I am more and more under 
suspicion in connection with the robbery here." 

His tone was mild, but his bitterness wasn't concealed from Mavis. She saw 
his eyes briefly and the pain in them almost made her cry. 

"Oh, how can they think you were mixed up in it? You weren't even in the 
area." 

"But I was in the area," Phil shook his head. "I can't account for some five 
hours of my time-even though I was here, at home, at the time the robbery 
occurred." 

Mavis turned away. More than ever, she wished she could strip away the 
mystery-that is, strip the robber, screw him, if necessary, and find the man 
with the wart on his peter. 

She wished Phil didn't have to leave, but realized that being busy, on an 
investigation, would be better for him than being idle, waiting for 
something to happen. 

How, she wondered, could Willie and Hank be so blithe and carefree about the 
robbery? They just seemed to be so nonchalant about the whole thing. And her 
husband was the one who was catching all of the hell! 

She was just kissing Phil good-bye when Terry Lewis drove up, obviously a 
little tight. The trim little pixie sauntered up, wearing hot pants and 
weaving her vixen body enticingly. "Mavis, do you know where Connie and 
Miriam are?" 

Mavis suppressed a frown as she caught a brief glimpse of the way her 
husband peered at the diminutive, but very seductive little orangish blonde. 

"No," Mavis said, "I haven't seen them." She was tempted to tell her 
husband, Get the hell out of here, or fuck her right now, on the lawn! 

It was indelibly in her mind, the wanton scenes of Terry Lewis. She was a 
fuck-kitten and, probably, wouldn't object to Phil's stripping her down to 
the buff, slamming her down on her back or taking her on all fours. Terry 
fairly oozed sex; an aroma of fuck-fuck seemed to emanate from her every 
pore-not to mention her crotch orifice! 

"I'll call you when I arrive in Reno," Phil grinned and Mavis frowned as he 
started the engine and backed slowly from the drive. Oh, you'll fuck her 
later, huh? She waved good-bye until Phil turned the corner and was out of 
sight. Without even turning, Mavis was aware of Terry close behind her, 
could smell the sweet perfume of hot pussy. The very proximity of a vibrant, 
warm female primed for a sex romp-in whatever form-started Mavis' sexual 
organs churning ... the puffy lips of her pussy grew hot and her coital 
channel seethed with lustful anticipation. 

"Let's go in the house," Mavis said. 

"And have a drink and take off our clothes and play fun games," Terry 
tittered, falling in beside Mavis. As they entered the back door, Terry 
taunted, "I'll bet you haven't had a chance to get a sweet screw from your 
husband since he got home from Wyoming, have you? But, you've been getting 
some stiff dick, haven't you?" Terry teased. 

Mavis ignored the all-too-true analysis. As she mixed drinks in the kitchen, 
tried to keep her eyes from the great expanse of bare skin revealed by 
Terry's scanty attire, she asked, "Whose car are you driving? That isn't 
yours and Mickey's." 

"Maybe not, maybe so," Terry pouted. "It's a TBird. I like it and I'll have 
it." 

Mavis had never made many Singapore Slings, and the third pair of them 
didn't go any faster. She merely frowned as Terry said, "I got something in 
the car," and she ran through the house, her woman aroma wafting on the air. 
When her measurements proved faulty, Mavis tilted the bottles of straight 
booze into the glasses. 

She wasn't happy, but was, strangely, exultant about the delicious sensation 
of her pussy fairly steaming with anticipation of having sex-fun with Terry 
Lewis! 

"Did you like the randying you got from Del Emerson, Mavis?" Terry winked 
when she returned. "And how about Mr. Carr? And Mr. Quentin? And, how many 
others, Mavis?" 

Mavis didn't like the subtle, prying inquiry about-what Mavis 
interpreted-her life as a whore. "Did you like your trick with the boxer?" 
Mavis countered. "How about your being jumped and sex-banged by that dirty 
old Ben Glover?" 

"Massive cock!" Terry grinned, drinking deeply. "Mean as hell-the way he 
fucks a girl!" 

Mavis' pulse quickened, but she recoiled mentally. She didn't want Ben 
Glover's insidious prick in her body. Yet, provocatively in her mind was the 
thought ... does that lecherous old man have a wart on the side of his long 
pussy-pole? God! Would she have to fuck him to find out? To determine 
whether he might have or might not have been the robber who had fucked her 
during the night of the supermarket heist? 

She shuddered with grim dread. Would she have to? Have to fuck him-take his 
sex joint into her cunny? She wouldn't ask Terry if she remembered whether 
or not the lustful man had a growth on his thing. Terry, being as drunk as 
she had been, probably couldn't remember anything except Ben Glover's 
rocking the cock to her. 

Mavis felt her skin growing hot. Sleek muscles tensed under the silk 
dressing gown she wore as Terry's lascivious eyes prowled over her. "Mick 
took some boys from the summer recreation program camping in the Wasatches 
and won't be back until tomorrow afternoon," Terry said. And Mavis was aware 
of the lithe young girl's shallow, almost passionate breathing. 

And you want us to have a lesbian fling until then, Mavis thought. She 
wouldn't meet the flashing, sensual invitation in Terry's eyes. Maybe I 
should get Becky over and we can have a threesome-but she's probably priming 
herself for another blast from Willie's sex thunderstick. 

Why not Del Emerson? Mavis frowned; maybe it would be best to go along with 
Terry's game and get their sex thrills from each other. Eventually, Mavis' 
eyes were drawn to Terry's nervous fingers that kept toying with the package 
wrapped in brown paper. The sexy gal seemed obsessed with opening it. 

"What's in the package?" Mavis queried softly. 

"A toy that will beat the hell out of that gadget Miriam has!" 

The sensual warmth that flooded through Mavis' body made her even more 
keenly aware that she was absolutely naked under the dressing gown. Where 
there had been a faint dread and a wish that Terry would leave, there was 
now a hot, almost lewd anticipation taking its place. And Terry's eyes were 
fastened to the loosening vee of the gown that revealed the deep valley 
between her feverish, pointing titties. 

Terry's faint, smirking smile told Mavis that her companion was cognizant of 
the passion that was clutching her loins, that passion juices were starting 
to steam in her undulating vagina. The craving for sex was almost painful. 
Mavis was tempted to demand to see what was in the package. She was already 
convinced, after Terry's flat hint, that it was some kind of sex tool. Well, 
the way her pussy was crawling with need, she hoped it was a big one. Her 
deep well was like a starving mouth, eager to be crammed full of sex fare. 
She needed it! She just hoped that Terry was adept enough to girl-fuck her 
until she was satisfied. 

Trying to control the tremulous tone of her voice, Mavis asked slowly, 
"What's in the package, Terry?" 

Mavis wasn't sure whether the hot film of moisture on her inner thighs, near 
her crotch, was from perspiration or was the sweet passion-hone from her 
vulva. God! How her labia and asshole itched! 

"A double-dildo!" Terry exclaimed triumphantly. 

Mavis frowned. Why doesn't she unwrap it? She watched Terry stand, slowly 
remove her halter with the built-in bra cups. Mavis stared at the perfect 
cones of firm flesh. The nipples, surrounded by tight aureoles, were taut 
brown spikes tilting slightly toward the ceiling. 

Her fingers itched to touch the smooth woman fruit untouched by the sun. 
They seemed frothy and confection-rich with little smooth berries on top of 
all that sweet whipped cream. Her mouth watered to savor Terry's luscious 
breasts and to nibble those dainty nubs. 

"Where do we romp, Mavis?" Terry asked, excitement building in her voice. 
"Take off your robe and let's find a place to make girl-love!" 

Mavis watched Terry float to her feet, breasts hardly quivering from the 
motion. The puffy eagerness of Terry's pussy lips was a pronounced 
prominence in her hot pants. A proper name, Mavis thought, for those 
rape-inviting shorts ... HOT pants! And Terry certainly has hot pants! 

Well, her own box wasn't exactly an igloo! Mavis whirled, letting the hem of 
her gown swirl to give Terry a quick look at flashing, creamy thighs, and 
led the way through the house and upstairs to hers and Phil's bedroom. Mavis 
shrugged out of her gown and tossed it atop a bureau of drawers. When she 
turned, Terry was skinning out of her hot pants. Eyes missed eyes-they were 
too busy exploring each other's bodies. Desire fanned through Mavis as she 
marveled at Terry's delectable nakedness. And Terry's sex-glazed stare told 
Mavis hers was just as inviting. 

Mavis stood perfectly still as Terry tossed her package on the bed and 
approached slowly, clutching her breast mounds near the base, pointing the 
swollen nipples at Mavis. Mavis' breathing was shallow and hurried as she 
watched Terry rub first one nipple, then the other against her own. The 
gentle friction of Terry's tittie-rubbing, plus the promise of tempestuous, 
illicit girl-sex seemed to kindle an intense fire all through Mavis. She 
hoped Terry would suck her pussy-and she would eat her in return. Slowly, 
Mavis reciprocated and grasped her own hot breasts, pointing them "in" so 
that her nipples mated with Terry's hard, burning points in electrifying 
thrills. 

They shuffled toward each other, crushing their tits together. As they 
twined their arms about each other's naked bodies, Mavis felt the 
titillating tickle of Terry's profuse pubic mat tickle her hairless Venus 
mound. Mavis caressed Terry's lean, sleek back and shuddered with pleasure 
as her love-companion kneaded the firm, smooth buns of her fanny. 

Mavis loved the contact of flesh against flesh, the gentle rasping of 
Terry's pussy hair. Mavis hunched her rear end forward to increase the 
pressure of the fleshy sex mounds that formed a parapet to their cunnies. 
Her hands found and cupped Terry's firm seat-buns as she shivered, loving 
the way Terry worked her fingers into the crack of her butt and probed for 
the tight, burning crinkle of her asshole! She almost wished that Terry 
would worm a finger into her anus and finger-fuck her bowels.... 

AND THERE IT COMES! Involuntarily, Mavis slid her feet apart, pushed her 
rump back slightly, relaxed her buttocks to take the demanding finger deep 
into her rectum. 

"Aaaaagggghhhh!" she sighed raggedly, capturing Terry's partly open mouth 
with her own. Terry responded by fucking her pelvis against Mavis and 
stabbing a hot, moist tongue into Mavis' mouth and tickled her palate. 
"Aaaaaahhhhh," Mavis sighed, wiggling her ass as Terry swizzled her finger 
around in her ass channel. Mavis wriggled harder, feeling pressure against 
her stinging clit by Terry's sex mound. 

Trembling, they wrestled frantically in each other's arms for several 
minutes, on the threshold of orgasm, but not quite able to make it. Their 
boobies were welded together; their pubic regions were grinding; passion 
thrills danced in Mavis' loins; Terry's finger stirred a deeper carnal, 
animal pleasure deep in Mavis' butt hole. 

"Let's get on the bed," Terry moaned, "and we'll sit in each other's saddles 
and girl-fuck!" 

Mavis didn't want to break off the tantalizing contact, Terry had drawn her 
away out and orgasm was just a question of time, but she let Terry back 
away. "Get on the bed; on your back; put your hands under your hips; brace 
them up high." Mavis was aware of a hot, gooey sweetness in her crotch. 
Lithe and athletic, Mavis had no trouble following directions. She felt a 
little silly with her legs straight up in the air, feet far apart, her 
hairless pussy exposed to her partner's lascivious gaze. She wished Terry 
would hurry. She needed fucking! Through half-closed eyes, she watched Terry 
step up on the bed. 

"Brace yourself firmly," Terry panted with passion, positioning her right 
foot against Mavis' upturned fanny and stepping through with her left foot, 
placing it near the base of Mavis' left breast, between arm and ribs. 

Mavis spread her legs wider, expanding the vee of her taut thighs. She 
tilted her head so she could watch Terry part the full, thick petals of her 
pussy. "That feeeels gooooood!" Mavis moaned as Terry massaged the clit with 
the tip of a finger and dived a finger deep into her hot, throbbing twat. 
"Ooooohhh!" she whimpered, her ass bumping and grinding to accentuate the 
pressure, wanting more and more in her cunt. "Heeeeaaaavvveeennnnly!" Mavis 
groaned. She rotated her rump, up-fucking her snatch against Terry's 
educated hand. 

She watched Terry's other hand at work in her own crotch as the girl pressed 
her labia far apart so that the slick inner surface was fully exposed. And 
Terry was turning her own pussy blossom inside out. 

Terry squatted slowly, her smooth, firm, rounded buttocks caressed Mavis' 
inner right thigh; her pussy mesh, curly and rich, raked her left. Mavis 
thought she could feel the intense heat of Terry's voracious young snatch as 
it sank closer and closer. 

Then there was faint contact ... then full pressure ... and Mavis felt their 
searing pussies were welded together in ecstatic, erotic bond. 

"Two women can screw pretty good," Terry panted. 

"What a delicious sensation," Mavis murmured as Terry swabbed her bottom 
around, rubbing the hot slickness of their cunnies together. Mavis thought 
she could feel Terry's hard clit needling against her own and up-bucked her 
ass and came quickly, sharply, almost painfully. 

"Ooooohh, fuck me!" Mavis whined, reveling in having her snatch glued to 
another woman's in wanton female intercourse. She looked up at Terry's 
triumphant face, eyes half-closed, relishing her own orgasm. "I never 
realized two women could latch their pussies together and fuck sooooo 
goooooood!" Mavis choked with pleasure. Terry had both of her arms around 
Mavis' stiff left leg for support and was girl-fucking like mad. The breath 
of passion whinnied through her narrowed nostrils as she fucked around and 
around, rubbing her steaming, burning snatch against Mavis'. 

"Oooooohh. ffffuuuuccckkk-fuck, FUCK!" Terry grunted, shaking her ass around 
and around, faster and faster. "I'm ready again!" Terry screamed, fucking 
faster. "Let's cum together!" and she churned her crotch faster and harder 
against Mavis' scorching sex orifice. 

"I'm ccccuuuummmmiiinnnggg!" Mavis squalled, upfucking her ass, suddenly 
shattered by sensual relief, losing muscle control. She went limp, burning 
with pleasure as orgasm danced along every nerve. She was vaguely aware that 
Terry had collapsed toward the foot of the bed, their pussies still melted 
together. 

Shortly, she was aware of the rustle of paper and knew that Terry must be 
unwrapping her double dildo. It was such a heavenly pleasure, having her 
parted pussy lips kissed by another woman's cunt mouth. Mavis didn't protest 
as Terry crawled from contact. Her strength was returning after being 
buffeted by the erotic session of female coitus with the tempestuous Terry. 
She righted herself and crawled to see what Terry was doing. 

She stifled a gasp as Terry withdrew the instrument from its wrappings. The 
color was that of a male, Caucasian. "Merciful gawd!" Mavis breathed, 
staring, wide-eyed. It was as if two well-hung men, with hard-ons, had run 
into a guillotine. And the full genitals of both had been united at the 
base. Two sets of hairy balls growing out of each other. And long phalluses 
pointing in opposite directions. Mavis noted, admiringly, that each shaft 
was at least nine inches long: the heads were gorgeous, enormous bulbs-and 
the thickness of the spears would make a heifer cough! 

"Can we fuck each other with that?" Mavis inhaled slowly, gulping. 

Terry giggled. "I think-hope-so. If we can, won't it be a marvelous fuck?" 

"How do we do it?" Mavis sighed, her pussy again spasming with eagerness. 
After all, she had just had a clitoral cum and needed a deep vaginal 
penetration to really set her off and satisfy her craving for prick. 

They flopped over, lying side by side, face down with their knees drawn up 
under their heaving, naked tummies. Mavis watched Terry play with the 
artificial dong, take one knob into her mouth as if giving a man a blow-job. 
Mavis touched one set of the hairy balls and was amazed at how realistic 
they felt. 

For a minute, they peered into each other's eyes. Terry stopped sucking the 
cock and they kissed quickly, held the contact, tongues swizzling in each 
other's mouths. 

"I think I know," Terry said, slipping away. "You stay where you are." 

"I'm not going anywhere," Mavis giggled. "Not when there is the prospect of 
having my pussy fucked. And I want to try to take all of that wonderful 
prong in my snatch!" 

"Be patient, passionate love," Terry chortled, voice musical and happy 
behind her. "What a beautiful thing you are from behind. I just feel like 
licking your butt hole and tonguing your gorgeous pussy!" 

"Don't be bashful," Mavis laughed, tossing her butt in little tantalizing 
circles, really wanting Terry to eat her pussy and asshole. 

"Maybe later," Terry chirped. "I'll give you your half first, then take 
mine. We'll go at it rear-to-rear." Mavis quivered delicious pleasure as she 
felt one of Terry's hands on her upraised buttocks. "Here it comes, love," 
Terry murmured. Mavis braced herself as she felt the object swabbed in her 
wide rut. "That's the hole," Mavis sighed as Terry pressed the big knob 
against the vaginal entry. 

"Betcha!" Terry agreed, cramming about two inches of it into Mavis' sultry 
snatch. 

"Aaaaahhhh!" Mavis purred, wincing slightly as the massive pole slid deeper 
and deeper into her feverish body. 

"Here it comes, baby," Terry said, "this should fill your snatch absolutely 
to the brim with make-believe cock!" 

"Ggggoooodddd!" Mavis groaned. 

"You have a cuntful!" Terry gloated and Mavis rotated her ass with pleasure 
as Terry fucked in and out of her a few times. "Hold your scrumptious snatch 
and butt still while I fill my greedy cunt with my half. This should be tops 
if there ain't no man around!" 

Bracing herself on the side of her head, Mavis ' watched Terry shuffle 
around. She worked a hand under her belly and grasped a set of balls, 
holding the tool steady until Terry was ready. She felt the sweet brush of 
buttocks against her own. She felt the tool jockeyed about slightly and 
Terry groaned, "Damn! It's a big son of a bitch! I'm gonna take it all if it 
stretches my snatch all out of shape! Ah! In it goes! What a nice 
cock-feeling in my cunny!" 

As Terry continued working the huge shaft into her own body, Mavis could 
feel the fat pole jostling in her own twat, sending ripples of pleasure 
jerking through her body. Once Terry jumped and Mavis almost growled at her 
not to pull the tool out of her. 

"When I finally get it all the way in me," Terry panted, still laboring to 
sock the massive dong into her snatch, "we'll hunch back and forth toward 
each other-we'll back-fuck and really ball the jack." 

"I don't know whom you're talking about," Mavis panted, "but I wish this 
jack were here and we'd really fuck his balls off!" 

Instinctively, each clutched a set of artificial genitals and began 
manipulating their cunts around the dual post. It let them control the pace 
and depth of penetration; they liked it in deep, their ass cheeks rubbing. 
Terry's pace was frantic; Mavis' was more measured as she fucked her cunt on 
the thing in long, slow strokes. When they climaxed, they released the 
balls, tangled their fingers in their hair or beat the mattress with their 
fists and fucked their asses against each other as they exploded with sex 
pleasure deep in their loins. 

"Wwwwwhhhhaaaatttt fffuuuucccckkkkin'!" Terry breathed raggedly as she and 
Mavis slowly emerged for their fifth cums. 

Mavis wanted to get one more jolting climax. The big dong was sliding 
smoothly and easily into her greased, boiling snatch up to the simulated 
balls. "One more!" she howled, "and you can eat me! We'll eat each other!" 

But the telephone rang and they were interrupted for a few hours. Their 
frantic, passionate girl-fucking was over for a while. 

Willie Quentin demanded that Mavis come down to the store. He emphasized 
that it was urgent! 

 CHAPTER FOURTEEN 

Mavis freshened her body and dressed while Terry lay sprawled in the middle 
of the bed, the huge dong protruding from her snatch, one end still buried 
in her body. 

"Mick isn't going to like me having that T-Bird," Terry frowned, "but I'm 
going to keep it, anyway!" 

Mavis watched the little sex-pot slowly fucking the dildo in and out of her 
snatch. 

"I should go down to the store with you and get a fast fuck from Willie," 
Terry panted. 

"I don't think he'll fuck anyone for a few days," Mavis replied, remembering 
how Willie's dong had been taped up just a few days before. And Becky would 
get his prick, if anyone did. 

"What's it all about?" Terry asked shakily, in the throes of a half-orgasm, 
slamming the big, artificial male-bone deeply into her twat. 

Mavis frowned as she stared at Terry, feet kicking in the air, thighs flung 
wide as she masturbated herself with the dildo. For a second, Mavis wished 
she had the other half of the dong scrunched into her own pussy again. 

"Probably something about the robbery," Mavis muttered. "There's booze in 
the kitchen and the den; help yourself. I'll be back as soon as I can get 
back." 

* * * 

At the store, Willie stopped her from taking the elevator to his office. 
"The investigator-Ben Glover-wants to interview you about the robbery. He's 
somewhere in the storeroom." 

Mavis' skin felt cold and scaly as that of a fish or a snake. She didn't 
want anything to do with Ben Glover-especially not in the darkened 
stockroom! But she watched Willie take the elevator to his office and she 
entered through the swinging doors. 

A match flared in the gloom, about ten feet away, and Mavis saw Ben Glover's 
hawkish face reflected in the flickering flame. He exhaled smoke and shook 
out the match. "Come over here, Mrs. Moran--Mavis, baby-and tell me what you 
know about the robbery." 

Her guts twinged and she sensed her vaginal passage turning cold and dry. He 
was a fucking beast! Hesitantly, almost mesmerized, she approached, stopping 
within a couple of feet of where he lounged on a crate of fresh lettuce. 

Somehow she knew-he-Ben Glover-was going to give it to her. He was going to 
fuck her. And her guts boiled and her whole sex tract felt as if it were 
being seared by fire. HE WAS GOING TO FUCK HER! 

"Baby," Glover said, easing forward on the crate and taking a pocket 
flashlight from his coat, "I think you know more about this robbery than you 
have told the cops." 

"No, no, no, no!" she muttered, recoiling mentally, but not retreating from 
the tiny penlight that he kept on her face, moving it from one eye to the 
other. 

The small light almost blinded her; she couldn't see his face. But she felt 
his hand, rather, his finger and thumb as he tweaked one of her nipples. She 
wished she had worn a coarse, tight bra-instead of the filmy, lacy harness 
and matching bikini panties. It, probably, wouldn't have made any 
difference. Ben Glover was going to screw her with his long, lascivious 
prick! 

Glover kept her right nipple in pinched captivity. The light left her face 
and she was in total darkness. The penlight was stabbed into her left breast 
and Glover twisted it against the tumescent point that seemed to burn under 
the pressure. 

She shivered as he traced the light down over her ribs, across her stomach 
to poke at her navel. "Aaaaaaahhhh," she moaned, tormented and frightened. 

The pressure of the small flashlight was increased on her belly button, 
starting nerves tingling deep in her rectum. Mavis stifled a gasp. God! It 
sparked wanton twitches all through her loins, into her inner thighs-all the 
way down into her toes. 

He was going to fuck her! 

And she sensed she wanted him to fuck her! 

If he fucked her, she would know whether he had a wart on his prick-if he 
were one of the robbers! The one who had raped her! 

She couldn't see. The light was dug into her belly. Yet her senses were 
alive. Glover's breath was on her face. She could smell him. His odor wasn't 
rancid, but was musky and virile. Her tummy crawled; she could almost feel 
his hard cock against her soft flesh! 

She would not fuck him back! 

"Phil have a hand in it-baby?" 

"Noooooo!" 

"Come on, sweet cunt! Tell me what you know!" 

His hand left her breast and mauled her right buttock, tugging her body 
toward him. A finger dug at her crotch-and she heard the hint of a skid of a 
zipper. 

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" she gasped. 

The light left her navel-and a hand grabbed her by the butt, her skin 
crawling under his hand. "He was involved! Tell me what you know!" 

"Noooottttthhhhiinnggggggg!" Mavis thought her voice fairly rang with denial 
in the dark storeroom. 

"Show me and tell me what you did at THE time!" Glover demanded. 

Mavis was glad to get out of his grasp-yet she knew she was going to get his 
sex trunk in her! She almost giggled with relief that he was no longer 
touching her. Her relief was short-a hand shucked up under her short dress 
and long fingers were cuddling the full, long, curvy loaves of her ass as 
she preceded him. And fingernails were finding the upper waist hem of her 
skivvies. He was going to strip off her panties and fuck her! 

He hooked a nail and her panties were slipping off the saucy flirt of her 
upper buttocks. "Nnnnnoooo!" she protested as Glover pushed her into the 
deeper shadows of the stockroom. 

"And you let the bandits in, huh?" Glover snorted. 

THERE WAS THE SOUND OF A ZIPPER SKIIIIDDDDNNNNIING! 

And Mavis could smell-more strongly than ever-the odor of prick! It was so 
strong it almost panted back at her! It was only a question of-not if-but 
when he would diddle her! 

She was about to get a whole belly full of prick! 

Her panties slid down around her ankles and her legs quaked. Glover heisted 
her skirt up over her back and dug a finger, doodled it around in the crack, 
and nudged the tense anal pucker. 

Mavis wished her cunny would stop hungering for hard, long male meat! 

"Phil had nothing to do with it!" she yelled as Glover pushed her over 
stacked cartons of vegetable juice, big cans. 

One of his thumbs hooked her in the asshole and stabbed into her throbbing 
rectum. His left hand gripped her left thigh and her legs skidded apart; she 
hunched her rump back at him as she felt the oozy knob of his cock rake the 
smooth crown of her butt. She was about to get him in her! He was about to 
fuck her! 

Mavis shook her head, desperate, helpless. She was about to get this 
terrible man's dirty old cock! She wanted to run. But she was going to take 
him on. Her entire rear was exposed to his attack-and his hands had captured 
her heaving flanks-and the thick, dripping knob of his jobber was jabbed 
flush against the entry to her bowels! 

Not in the asshole! 

She sobered slightly as Glover sagged his knees for a more direct aim and 
planted the knob of his cock in her bloated vulva. Damn you! Mavis swore 
silently at her pussy, don't look forward to getting his prick inside ME! 

Mavis sensed his tensing, aiming his dong. 

Here IT comes, she thought-braced herself for his forward onslaught. She 
moved her weight to the left when he missed and she snuckled his cockhead 
into her vulva. 

"Dddddaaaammmmnnnn!" she complained as Glover buried his bone deep in her 
viscous twat, slamming the hard head against the curvature of the cervix and 
ramming to the very depths, stretching her coital cave. 

"Daaammmnn you!" she shrieked, rearing her ass backward, trying to out-fuck 
his massive prick. 

But he was pumping the meat into her snatch, rasping the lips of her outer 
pussy-and there was no wart! 

There was no wart on his dong! He was not the robber-rapist! 

Tears flooded into Mavis' eyes. He was no help. She thrust her ass back to 
meet his forward hunch, fucking her like a mongrel dog. 

"It's all a waste!" she wept as she maneuvered to get all of her assailant's 
prick. The knob banged against the bottom of her sex canal and she almost 
swooned from an overwhelming orgasm. 

Mavis swung her ass wildly, slamming her taut rump loaves against his pelvic 
region as he poured the cock to her. She tightened her sphincters in revenge 
that she didn't have the right one; she wouldn't have minded taking the 
prick of the robber-rapist! 

She rotated her fanny, shoved her exposed rear back again-unmindful of his 
long finger in her asshole. She lifted on tiptoes, trying to break off his 
prick in her pussy. 

"Aaaaagggghhhh!" she wailed, trying to fuck him into nothing. But he was too 
much man. He started squirting his jizz into her; grabbed her by the ass 
cheeks, prying them apart; hauled his prick out of her pussy and shoved it 
roughly into her roiling bowels where he finished unloading his semen. 

She was fearful he was going to make her suck him clean, but he left her 
there, skirt up over her butt, legs spread far apart for fucking, weeping in 
frustration, cunt and rectum well-hosed with cock juice.... 

After several minutes, after letting his male sap drizzle to the floor, 
Mavis adjusted her clothes and fled. All she could say, starting the old 
car, was that he wasn't the one; he didn't have a wart on the side of his 
prick. The fucking had been for nothing. 

Mavis was glad, for the first time, she had no cunny carpet. His jizz didn't 
cling and clot in pussy hair. "Ha-ha-ha-ha!" she laughed, almost 
hysterically. 

She wept all the way home. She was glad that Terry was in the kitchen, 
drinking vodka over ice. "Ben Glover thinks Phil is involved in the 
robbery!" Mavis sobbed, taking the glass of ice and vodka that Terry pushed 
toward her as she slumped into the breakfast nook. 

"He screwed you!" Terry shouted-and Mavis detected a tone of frenetic anger. 
"That bastard! Fucking you! Trying to push that robbery onto you and Phil!" 

"Come home, Phil!" 

A little later, she let Terry undress her, lead her upstairs and bathe her 
in soothing hot water. Then they returned to the kitchen and drank in 
half-brooding silence. The booze relaxed Mavis and she grew drowsy. Vaguely, 
sometime during the evening, Mavis was aware of Terry coasting her back 
upstairs and putting her to bed. Before drifting into deep sleep, she 
snuggled against the kittenish softness and warmth of Terry, thinking how 
nice it was to have someone in bed with her. 

Sleep endured until nearly two o'clock the next afternoon, until it was 
dispelled by the insistent front door chimes. Clumsily, Mavis crawled from 
bed and struggled into a dressing gown. She left Terry asleep in the bed as 
she hurried downstairs to answer the door. 

She stared stupidly at Mickey Lewis whose mouth was pursed in a grim line. 
"Is Terry here?" he asked curtly. "I see the car she was driving is out 
front." 

Mavis nodded, glancing at the sleek, powerful Thunderbird. It was a pretty 
thing she admired. Even the colors of the Utah license plates harmonized 
with the color of the car; so often they clash. 

"She stayed all night with me," Mavis yawned. "Come in, Mickey; I'll make 
some coffee and call her. God! We must have slept fourteen hours!" 

Mavis left Mickey sitting impatiently in the living room as she went to 
start coffee percolating. She was aware of his eyes on her body as she 
strode back through the living room, flimsy gown fluttering about her thighs 
as she went to waken Terry. 

She found Mick's wife half-awake, stretching and yawning. "Mickey is here," 
Mavis told the naked doll. 

"Oh? Is he back already? How did he know where I am?" 

"He said he saw the car you're driving," Mavis replied, heading back 
downstairs. 

"She's dressing," Mavis told Mick whose piercing gaze stabbed at the loose 
vee of the gown and traveled downward, lingering for a moment on the pubic 
region, then dropping to her knees and generous length of tapering thighs. 
"The coffee should be done," she murmured, going to the kitchen and 
returning with pot, cups and saucers, cream and sugar. 

As she and Mick sipped coffee, waiting for Terry to join them, Mavis wished 
he wouldn't stare at her that way! His intense gaze almost made her flesh 
crawl. And he made no effort to conceal his interest in peeling off her 
gown, putting his hands on her and having his way with her. 

She would have liked to recross her legs, but she didn't want to give Mick 
that momentary view up her inner thighs toward the sensuous place he 
coveted. 

Damn! His eyes gave her chills and hot flushes that tingled deep in her womb 
and danced outward through her loins. 

When Terry joined them, Mickey demanded, "What are you doing with that car?" 
His tone was flat, cold with anger. 

"I want it and I'm going to have it," his wife said, pouring herself a cup 
of coffee. 

A brittle silence lasted several minutes and Mavis thought she could almost 
see Mickey's thought processes in action. Terry was defiant, yet there was 
an air of flightiness in her demeanor. Mavis had no doubt that Mickey would 
have his way. He was studying his next move; in a moment, she thought, he 
will lay down the law to his young wife. 

"Tomorrow, you'll take that car back to Ely, Nevada; arrange to store it for 
your brother; take the bus back here," Mickey said flatly. 

Mavis frowned slightly; why had Mickey overstressed certain words? back to 
Nevada ... your brother....It was almost like some kind of code that 
husbands and wives often use; it tells the outsider nothing, but has very 
clear meaning for the married couple. 

"Let's have some brandy in our coffee," Terry said, glancing at Mavis 
questioningly. "I want the car, Mick," Terry almost begged as Mavis went to 
get a bottle of brandy. 

"You-will-take-it-back-to-Nevada tomorrow," he snapped. 

Something clicked in Mavis' mind as she returned. Back to Nevada? Why ... it 
has Utah plates! Whatever was Mickey talking about? 

"I'll take it back." Terry acquiesced numbly. And Mavis noted she had put 
the same stress on the word. "Tomorrow, as you say." 

"Good!" Mickey grinned. Now that the issue about the car was settled, the 
grimness left his face, replaced with a bright, easy smile and laughing 
eyes. 

Mavis was uncomfortably aware that Mick's eyes again were undressing her. 
And his stare wasn't lost on Terry. What he had in mind, if given the 
opportunity, was clearly spelled out by the huge lump in the crotch of his 
trousers. He was a dirty dog with a big bone and he wanted to bury it deep 
in Mavis' flower bed! 

He asked to use the telephone and made no effort to shield the massive 
tenting of his swollen pecker from hers and Terry's eyes. Returning, he 
flopped onto the sofa, stretching his long legs out before him and said, "My 
party was out for a little while; I gave your number, Mavis. Is that all 
right, if he calls back here?" 

She nodded numbly. 

Mickey grinned and waved his cup toward his wife, "I think you better take 
that car home and put it in the garage-where it will be safe-until you leave 
for Ely tomorrow. It worries me, being responsible for other people's 
property." 

Nooooo! Mavis recoiled mentally. She could sense an insidious plot 
developing. And the narrowing of Terry's eyes told her it wasn't just 
imagination, either. It was quite plain that Mick had devised a way to be 
left alone with her! He wanted to fuck her-and he would have his wife out of 
the way. Terry would be at home and Mickey would be here, waiting for a 
phone call that would never come! He could take all of the time he needed to 
seduce her. This tall young man was going to fuck her and Mavis felt 
helpless to prevent it! 

Mavis wished she hadn't drunk the brandy, felt she needed a clear head to 
cope with whatever lay ahead of her. Hell! she knew what lay ahead of her! 
Mickey Lewis was going to lay her! 

She wanted to plead with Terry to stay, but she was gone before the words 
would form. And Mickey was sitting across the room from her-and the male 
bulge in his pants was getting huskier all the time. He seemed to taunt her, 
gently scratching the curved material over his balls with a fingernail. 

"You want it, don't you, Mavis?" Mickey asked suddenly, his fingers idly 
stroking his penis and gonads through his clothes. 

"Whhhaaaatttt?" Mavis stammered. The blunt, verbal approach had always 
dismayed her. She thought she much preferred straight physical jousting-the 
way Hank and Ben had gotten to her. 

"You want some of this, don't you, Mavis?" Mick persisted, goading his sex 
business to even greater dimensions with his left hand. 

Mavis felt even more vulnerable than ever, wearing nothing but the thin 
wrapper. She was dully aware that she was so disturbed she had been 
unmindful of her lone garment; it sagged open dangerously, revealing the 
deep cleavage between her breasts. And his gaze made her tits tingle! The 
folds had fallen away below the waist, exposing lengths of creamy thighs. 
She glanced down quickly and held her breath. Mickey could see almost all 
the way to her shaven crotch. She was ripe for the taking! 

"Well, you want it and you're going to get it, baby!" Mickey chuckled 
hoarsely. "I'm going to fuck you good, Mavis! We are going to have a real 
hot, lively sex party. I'm going to fuck your sweet twat full of big meat 
and dump a whole load of sex rocks in your quarry!" 

Mavis gasped silently. "No, no, no, NO!" she blurted. 

"Yep!" Mickey laughed, rising and stripping to the waist and taking off his 
shoes and socks. "You want it from behind; me on top; or you top-riding? Me, 
I like to fuck in all positions! Which way do you like to fuck best?" 

Mavis' vagina contracted and she fretted that she wouldn't be able to take 
the monstrous cock that was so clearly outlined in Mickey Lewis' pants. It 
was huge! Maybe she could absorb him all right if she were receptive to 
having him plow his big dong into her cunt. But she felt all shrunken tight 
inside. 

"Let's fuck, baby!" Mickey declared, striding up to her, taking her left arm 
and tugging her out of the chair. 

"Pppplllleeeeaaaasssseee!" Mavis begged. But she didn't resist him as he 
pulled away the only flimsy garment that covered her nakedness. There was no 
doubt about it; he was going to screw her! 

"Nice body; fancy tits!" Mickey breathed, pinching one taut nipple and 
raking his tongue across the other. He sucked the hard spire into his mouth 
and chewed roughly. The sharp tingles seemed to explode like needle jabs in 
her anus, her pussy and her navel. 

His right hand went around her, caressed the smooth small of her back and 
fondled the tense buns of her fanny. She wondered how long he would toy with 
her, maul her, before he got down to the business of flopping her down and 
fucking her. It was almost degrading and humiliating, standing there 
tolerating his lecherous hands on her skin, his mouth sucking her nipple, 
fingers kneading her flesh. 

Resigned to his sexual manipulation, she wished that he would hurry, give it 
to her, fuck her until he was finished and get out! A big hand was on her 
right flank, the fingers dived between her crimped thighs, forcing them 
apart and caressing her hairless mound. 

Mavis shuddered involuntarily as Mickey worked a finger into her groove and 
rubbed the tender clitoris. "Aaaaaaahhhh!" she sighed, unable to keep her 
feet from drifting apart to give him free play in her crotch. Nerves jumped 
and tingled in her inner thighs. "Eeeeeeeiiiii!" she screeched as Mickey 
stabbed a finger into the snug orifice. He laughed with satisfaction around 
the nipple as he sucked with his wet mouth. He was going to arouse her in 
spite of her disgust toward him. She knew he would have no trouble laying 
her out and fucking her. Her misery was multiplied as she began to realize 
that he was going to make her want his cock in her cunt! Like a brazen 
animal in heat! Hungry for his prick! 

She told herself she, really, didn't want to be fucked by Mickey Lewis! But 
he was stirring up her passions and her body was being tuned up for a 
tumultuous sessions of sexual carnage! 

"Let's get with it, Mavis-baby," Mickey breathed, his hands all over her 
nude body. "Let's fuck!" 

She seemed aflame with wanton desire. She trembled weakly as he stepped back 
from her. "Where do you want me?" she asked huskily, eyes half-closed. "Do 
you want to fuck me on the floor? On the sofa? Or would you rather we screw 
upstairs on the bed?" 

He had sparked a fire in her and her vagina was seething like a boiling 
cauldron. 

"Let's fuck on the floor," Mickey wheezed, undressing. "Lie down on the 
floor-let's screw there." 

Obediently, Mavis glided to the floor, knowing that his eyes were on her 
bare rear end. She stretched out prone on her back, eyes half-closed. "Do 
you want to fuck me topside or dog-fashion?" she asked, holding her legs 
tightly together against her pussy. 

She wanted it! 

"You can fuck me any way you want to," she whined softly. She felt she could 
hardly wait for Mickey to push her thighs apart and crawl on her. She was 
aching-craving-for his meat spear deep in her snatch. "Give it to me," she 
whimpered. "Fuck me deep!" 

She got a brief glimpse of his mammoth instrument as he parted her knees and 
settled between her thighs. Instantly, her legs fanned wide and her feet 
kicked high into the air. Mickey pushed her feet far back toward her head 
and she grabbed her toes. Her sex saddle was flattened out for his body, 
rich hairless pussy tilted upward to take his thick, hard meat. 

"Plunge the prick to me!" Mavis begged, her body twisting with sexual 
gluttony, wanting him to hurry, poke his cock into her throbbing twat. 

She quivered with anticipation as Mickey dipped the hot, fat glans into her 
passion-slicked furrow. She sighed with ecstasy as the smooth head slid over 
her swollen clit. "In me!" she pleaded. "Fuck it into me!" 

Mavis wiggled her ass around, trying to get him to locate the blunt tip 
against her ravenous opening. "Aaaahhh, there!" she wailed softly as Mickey 
planted the head of his prick against the entry to her vagina. "Oooooohhhh!" 
she sighed as he thrust forward, popping the thick head of his pecker inside 
her body. 

"Fuck it in deep!" she pleaded, waggling her fanny up at him, attempting to 
lever her body to capture his sex plunger. "Leeeetttt's fuck," she wheedled. 

"Yeeeeeaaaahhhhh, baby!" Mickey murmured and his cock began sliding slowly 
into her cunt, deeper and deeper, stretching her channel. "You got a hot 
pussy!" 

Mavis knew she had all of his cock in her because she could feel the heavy 
weight of his balls against her flattened, upturned rump and his hairy groin 
was ground against her smooth, hairless pussy-pillow. "Let it soak in my 
cooze a minute; then fuck me!" 

She loved the deep penetration, the way he kind of rotated his ass, grinding 
his groin against her, prying his massive prick around and around in her 
snatch as if he were trying to ream out her sex cove. She felt that the hot, 
juiced lips of her pussy were vulcanized around the base of his pulsating 
shaft that he was feeding into her in little short jabs. 

"Oooooohhhh ... God!" she gasped with erotic pleasure so intense she thought 
she was about to explode. "Come on, honey, fuck it to me! Give me all of 
your marvelous cock in big plunges! I need fuckin', lots of fuckin' with 
your wonderful prick. Shove the meat to my cunt, Mickey-baby!" 

She held her breath as he slowly snaked his pecker out of her. "Here it 
comes, Mavis," Mickey grunted in her ear, a hand mauling one of her ripe, 
tender tits. 

"Yes! Yes!" she moaned. "Ram the prick to me! Make my pussy smoke!" 

Then he gave it to her, in a long steady stroke, penetrating her pussy to 
the full length of his sex bone. His big coconuts full of sex goodies 
plopped warmly against her gyrating bottom. Mavis loved his cock buried deep 
in her body; loved the warm musky odor of hard pecker blended with hot 
pussy. 

"Fuck me fast," she begged, squirreling her ass around, making her twat 
gobble his thick cock-sausage. He backed his prick out of her cunt and 
slammed it deep. Mavis reeled into a delicious cum, loving the aroma, the 
faint, squish-squish of thick cock plowing into her seething sex well. 

Her pussy was a boiling liquid fire as Mickey plundered her body, driving 
his wonderful tusk deep into her sensitive, ravenous orifice. She knew he 
was about to cum; his plunges were faster and erratic. She could feel the 
pulsations in his shaft as her sphincter muscles seemed to twine around his 
massive meat. "Aaaaaaggggghhh!" he cried, slamming the prick to her and 
grinding his belly against hers. She was thrust into another violent orgasm 
as Mickey began jizzing the daylights out of her. "Ooooohhhhh, sooooo good!" 
she purred as he continued to flood her snatch with his thick love honey. 
She loved the way he gave the farthest wall of her cunt little pokes with 
the squirting head of his prick. 

Suddenly, as her intense, erotic pleasure began to subside, she felt 
something else. It was a tingly scratching sensation. Mavis sobered 
slightly-and she knew. She relaxed, let her heels rest on the small of his 
back. She worked a hand between their sweaty bodies so she could use it and 
her sphincters to milk all of his sex juice into her cunt. She squeezed his 
cock at the hairy base. She wanted to feel it as he withdrew. She was 
certain, but she wanted to verify it with her fingers. 

"That was a real good, hot fuck," Mavis kissed him on the parted lips, felt 
his tongue in her mouth, his panting breath of passion ebbing. "A really 
dandy fuck." 

She would have liked for him to leave his cock buried in her cunt, it felt 
so good. But she wanted to have his big, slick meat in her hand. She would 
suck it, if she had to. She held her breath as he eased his tusk out of her 
body. 

Yes! YES! There it was! 

She spread her legs wide as he crawled backward so that his face was between 
her thighs. She smiled smugly as she lay there, letting him tongue the cum 
out of her pussy. She had found the man. 

Mickey Lewis had a wart on the side of his pecker.... 

 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 

After Mickey departed, pleased with his sexual conquest, Mavis prowled 
impatiently through the house. That smug, self-satisfied expression would be 
erased from his face in a hurry, she thought, after she told Phil that she 
had found the robber-rapist. 

Finally, about dark, she settled down in the living room, sipping a tall 
scotch and water and watching television. She hadn't liked the brutal 
screwing he had given her during the robbery, but she acknowledged that when 
there was no one else around, there was no possible peril, Mickey Lewis 
could really fuck a girl and give her a whole bagful of jollies. 

Well, Mickey had betrayed himself, having to have another piece of tail. The 
wart on his dingus had given him away. She had had her cock and cunny 
fun-and Mick was going to get what was coming to him. Mavis wished she could 
talk to Phil, but she didn't know how she could reach him. But, hadn't he 
said he would call? She frowned; he had said after he got squared away. When 
would that be? Tomorrow? She would just have to wait. Who, she mused, was 
involved in the robbery with Mickey? She just couldn't believe Hank or 
Willie-certainly not her husband, Phil-were in cahoots with Mick. 

She had a hunch that Terry could shed a lot of light on the crime that had 
Phil under such deep suspicion. She was almost tempted to call the little 
sexpot and have her come over; but she doubted that Mickey would allow it. 

She would just have to wait. 

Mavis was so anxious to have the whole affair settled, she felt that every 
nerve in her body was sparking. Intuitively, she sensed that when it was all 
over, she no longer would be a sex captive of hers and Phil's acquaintances. 
That would be a good feeling! Maybe she would confess to her husband that 
she had been a prostitute for a while; she didn't know how he would react, 
but if that terrible secret were wiped out from her mind, she would feel 
relief and a peaceful sensation of liberation. Somehow, she felt her husband 
would forgive her that sordid chapter in her life. 

The telephone rang sharply and Mavis almost screamed. It took nearly a 
minute for her to compose herself and lift the receiver. "Heeeelllloooo?" 
she said, voice just above a whisper. 

"This is Phil, baby. I'm at a place called Battle Mountain, Nevada. I'll 
stay the night and head home in the morning. I got to Winnemucca and the 
Nevada state police stopped me; my boss asked their help in stopping me and 
telling me to telephone him. The Nevada case has been solved and I'm turning 
around, coming home. I'll be there before dark tomorrow." 

Mavis was so intensely happy she couldn't reply for several seconds. Then 
she blurted, "Honey, I know who the robber-rapist is!" 

"Gggrrrreeeeeaaaatttt!" Phil exclaimed. "Tell me." 

Quickly, Mavis told him about her seduction by Mickey Lewis, finding the 
wart on his dong. "And I have a feeling that Terry bought this fancy T-Bird 
with some of the robbery money." 

She told Phil about Mickey's ordering Terry to take the car to Ely, Nevada, 
store it for her brother. "It isn't a Nevada car, honey," she said, "it has 
Utah license plates." 

"If I had the plate numbers," Phil said, "I would have the ownership traced 
through the Utah vehicle bureau." 

"I don't have or know them, honey," Mavis frowned. Then a bold thought 
crackled into her mind. "Phil, what if I could persuade Terry to let me go 
with her to Ely? You could meet us there-give us a ride home so we wouldn't 
have to take the bus? While we are in Nevada, maybe you could get all of the 
truth out of her?" 

After a short pause, Phil replied, "Okay. Sounds good. How will I find you 
in Ely?" 

"If I can get Terry to take me along-I don't think she'll be against the 
idea-I'll be sure we register at a good motel. You just start calling motels 
until you find your oversexed wife!" 

"Great, honey! I'll see you tomorrow night?" 

After Phil hung up, Mavis looked up the Lewis' number and dialed. She didn't 
have to sell Terry on the plan; she jumped at it. 

"I was just dreading that drive," Terry said happily. 

"And I feel the need to get away from Salt Lake and the house for a while," 
Mavis bubbled. "And it is so convenient for us-with Phil coming home. He 
said he won't mind a bit, the extra miles he will have to drive to pick us 
up." 

* * * 

They were on their way by six the next morning and arrived at their Nevada 
destination in plenty of time to find a motel and look around town, if they 
wished. Mavis' smug satisfaction received a big boost on the road. While 
taking a turn at the wheel, letting Terry nap, she found the registration on 
the sun visor. It was Terry's car! 

As they cruised through town, Mavis spotted Phil's Buick parked on a side 
street, around the corner from a hotel. Apparently, he arrived before they 
had. "Let's find a motel and get settled," Terry said. "You can grab a 
little rest while I find a place to store my car. What time do you expect 
Phil?" 

Mavis shrugged. "He'll call motels until he locates us." 

As soon as they were in a motel, Mavis stripped down to bra and panties and 
collapsed on one of the two double beds. Terry's eyes turned sex-greedy as 
she stared at Mavis and winked. 

"If we thought your hubby would be getting in late," Terry said, "we could 
prowl the town and pick us up a couple of well-hung studs for some hot 
yumyum fun!" 

Mavis smiled back. "I don't think I want Phil to catch me-or us-with a 
couple of stallions wearing our saddles." 

"Probably right," Terry nodded, taking three bottles of liquor from one of 
her suitcases and setting them on a dresser. 

Mavis watched her find a couple of glasses, strip off the cellophane and mix 
a couple of drinks of whiskey and water. "Anyway," Terry said, "I brought my 
double-dong along and we can have a romp with it." 

Mavis cramped her naked thighs together against the pleasurable clutching 
the thought of the dildo aroused in her loins. "If you need a little 
sexing," Mavis said softly, "maybe I'll let Phil give you a little fucking 
when he arrives. He has a very masterful prong and really knows how to make 
a girl's twatty smoke." 

"Wheeeeee!" Terry breathed, whirling about the room. "I don't know how I'd 
react, getting diddled while the man's wife watched." 

"Nothing like finding out," Mavis laughed as Terry pranced out the door. 
"Don't pick up a stud; come straight back!" 

"Right on!" Terry called as she slammed the door. 

Phil called about ten minutes after Terry left the motel. "I saw Terry drive 
by the hotel where I'm camped out," Phil said. 

"I saw your car when we drove through town," Mavis said. "She wants a little 
fucking!" she laughed. 

"And I'm a stud-service candidate?" he said. 

"I figure you might be able to put the screws on her-I mean screw the truth 
out of her," Mavis bantered. 

"Where will you be while I'm giving her the third degree and jacking my 
handle into her cunny?" 

"Right here, honey, witnessing every word, guiding your prick and holding 
your wonderful balls up out of the hot sand." 

"Hot sand? What the hell are you talking about?" 

"You don't want your balls getting scorched in hot, desert sand, do you? 
I'll hold them for you while you fuck the robbery truth out of little 
Terry." 

"If you insist on being present while I fuck the little wench, just let my 
balls dangle," Phil said with mock solemnity. "Get her a little tight, if 
you can." 

"I have a feeling that won't be any trouble," Mavis replied. "I just hope 
she doesn't pick up some clown to give her a breeding before you have a 
chance to get at her greedy snatch." 

"Well, I'm going to park on a side street and stake out your motel from 
across and down the block. I'll wander in about an hour after she gets 
back." 

When Terry returned, it was obvious she had sampled the liquid wares of at 
least one of Ely's clubs. She was half-loaded, happy-and her sex appetite 
was at an end-of-Lent intensity. Mavis fairly grinned appreciatively as she 
watched the sexy doll strip out of her clothes and parade about the room, 
showing off her saucy breasts, curvy fanny, flat tummy and scratching the 
coarse floss that adorned the inviting mound that crowned her pussy. 

As they sipped whiskey and water, Terry wheedled, "Let's get out the 
double-dong and fuck each other, Mavis?" 

"Not right now," Mavis demurred. "Phil called from up the road and will be 
here pretty soon." 

"How soon?" Terry pressed. And Mavis studied the narrowing of her nostrils, 
the fire in her eyes and the way she fanned her silky thighs in and out, 
pressing them against her sex trove. 

"Oh pretty soon," Mavis evaded. "Maybe you should put on something." 

"Why?" Terry pouted. "If you aren't going to back out and let him screw me, 
why shouldn't I be all ready for a jump in the sack?" 

"You don't want to seem too eager," Mavis countered. "You don't want to 
startle him." 

"Do you think-if he comes in and sees me all naked and ready to fuck-I might 
scare him?" Terry giggled a little tightly. 

Mavis shrugged. "I don't know. I just think it might be better if you 
weren't naked, were wearing something-kind of teasing him into the idea of 
punching your pussy...." 

She nodded with approval as Terry gulped the remainder of her drink and 
found a loose-fitting sunsuit in a suitcase. "I think it's a big waste of 
time, putting on clothes, when you know all along you're going to get a 
fucking!" 

Mavis was surprised-maybe it was the liquor but she didn't experience any 
mental qualms as they talked about her husband and his diddling Terry. She, 
actually, was looking forward to seeing Phil thud his prick into the dainty 
Terry's quim. 

When Phil knocked and she let him in, Mavis frowned slightly. No, a naked 
Terry wouldn't have scared him off. His pants were tented with a swollen 
cock and ready testes. He came ready to fuck. 

"Bring in your luggage, honey, and stay the night," Mavis said. 

"Rrrrrrriiiiigggggghhhhhhttttt!" Terry echoed. 

Phil grinned, then returned to his car to get a large suitcase and a 
leather-cased object Mavis knew was a cassette tape recorder. 

She fixed him a drink, turned and saw him staring at Terry's scantily clad 
body-and Terry had already discovered that Phil was sporting more than half 
a hard-on. 

"How was your trip?" the three of them said, almost in unison. 

"No problem, sweat, okay," they chimed, then smiled sheepishly, awkwardly. 

There was no doubt about Terry's eagerness to have thick, hard cock chunked 
into her snatch. Her eyes were glazed with the animal message-Fuck me! And 
Mavis could smell the sweet aroma of her cunt. 

Calculatingly, Mavis took the initiative. "Phil, don't cream in your shorts! 
Terry wants to be screwed, so why don't you two strip and diddle?" 

You little bitch! Mavis frowned as Terry lurched to her feet and shrugged 
out of her sunsuit. Phil laughed and caressed his swollen genitals through 
his pants with the bottom of his frosty glass. 

"Where do you want to give it to me, Phil? Where do you want to fuck me?" 

Mavis frowned. About the same question she had asked Mickey after he had 
gotten her aroused. 

"Not in the butt hole," Phil laughed, "in the middle of a bed." 

"That's what I meant!" Terry snapped, hurling herself onto a bed, flopping 
onto her back and making a sex saddle of her thighs, knees far up, feet 
dangling in the air. Mavis stared at her inviting, hairy crotch, pinkish 
inner labia glistening with passion-moisture, opening to her vaginal 
fluttering. Terry's voice turned pleading, "You can cornhole me, if you want 
to; but fuck me in the cunny, too!" 

"Give it to her, Phil! Fill her snatch with prick and fuck her!" Mavis 
urged, desire fluttering through her as she anticipated watching her husband 
ream the young woman's vag with his massive tool. 

"Hurrrrry and fuuuuuucccccccccckkkk meeeeeee!" Terry wailed, waggling her 
fingers and her fanny at him, begging plaintively. 

Mavis sat perfectly still as her husband stood, set his glass aside and 
undressed slowly. Terry gasped and Mavis felt slightly jealous as Phil's 
massive tool was uncurled from his clothes and his phallus stiffened and 
lengthened and thickened. She would like to have his dick in her-but he was 
going to fuck it into Terry Lewis! 

And she was going to watch her husband fuck the little hot-pussied hussy! 

Phil seemed to ignore her as he crossed the room and eased onto the bed, 
worked his own naked body between Terry's inviting thighs, shuffled forward, 
his cock waggling, toward the woman's sex treasure. 

In a minute, Mavis fretted, yet was filled with anticipation, her husband 
would be screwing another woman-right before her eyes. There was a lecherous 
expectancy. She wanted to see Phil drive his cock into Terry's cunt, stretch 
that marvelous vulva out of shape and fuck his mammoth meat deep into her 
fragile body. 

Mavis leaned forward to see clearly as Phil hovered over Terry, his lips and 
teeth finding a breast berry. "Aaaaaaahhhh!" Terry whimpered, reaching to 
find Phil's throbbing prick, trying to pull it into her steamy twat. 

Phil closed the distance between their pubic regions until the huge, 
glistening head of his cock soaked in her hot groove. "You want it, Terry? 
You want a good fuckin'? Give me the cassette, Mavis," he said all in one 
breath. 

Mavis lurched to her feet and placed the instrument near the head of the 
bed, near her husband's right hand. She stood for a moment as he opened the 
case, pointed microphone toward Terry's face. 

"Yeeeessss! Fuck me, Phil!" 

He flipped the switch and Mavis watched the reels move. Then she returned to 
her seat. 

Phil moved over Terry's uptilted bottom, let her work the huge pear-shaped 
head just inside her vag. "Yes! Fuck me!" 

Phil let the head of his cock soak, just inside her wiggling body. "Tell me 
what you know about the robbery of the store that Willie manages," Phil 
urged softly, giving Terry's twat little jabs with just the knob of his 
dong. 

"Please fuck me, Phil?" 

"We know that Mick was one of the robbers. Tell me about the robbery." 

He plunged a couple of inches of hard prick into her snatch. "Tell me!" 

"Ffffuuuucccckkkkmmmeeeeee!" Terry begged, trying to up-hunch her ass to get 
his spear in her. 

Phil gave her a couple of fast cock-thrusts. "Tell me!" 

He rammed the remaining seven inches of his sex sausage into her. 

"Fuck me!" Terry squalled as Phil withdrew his prick. "It was a clever 
setup. Mick? Yes! He was one! He raped Mavis! The beating Willie got was 
part of the plan-he's involved-to throw off suspicion." 

Mavis watched her husband plow his rock-hard cock back into Terry's ravenous 
snatch. "Hank was against it-but he went along with the guys." 

She was panting with passion and starving hunger for more of Phil's sex 
pole. He gave her several long, fast pistonings-she farted loudly as he hit 
bottom with the thick point of his prick. 

"Ben Glover was the mastermind," Terry snorted as Phil fucked the cock into 
her. "He cased the whole job-with Willie's help on timing of the guards and 
the van. Hank helped steer the SLC police away from suspecting them." 

Mavis watched her husband clutch Terry's heaving flanks with both hands and 
pump the prick into her furiously. "Where is all of the money?" 

"They split it up. It's hidden in everybody's houses! Oooooohhhh! Fuck me, 
Phil!" 

Terry had her toes in her hands, feet hauled back parallel with her ears, 
legs flung wide, taking every last inch of Phil's sex meat that he was 
drumming into her. 

Mavis knew when Terry was exploded into violent orgasm. She screamed like an 
Indian on the warpath. 

Her lust was unbelievable as she tossed her bare, sweaty ass up at Phil to 
meet his inward plunge. She kept cumming as Phil buried his dong deep and 
began shooting the jizz into her sex-soddened cunt. 

Even after Phil extracted his long, thick prick from her snatch and went to 
shower, Terry lay there in the middle of the bed with her thighs spread 
wide, plundered pussy an almost obscene invitation for more fucking. 

The solution of the crime had been almost too easy, Mavis thought, once the 
vital key was found. All it took was finding the man with the wart on the 
side of his sex root. She wondered how long the case would be dragged out; 
she hoped that she and Phil wouldn't be involved for a long period of time. 

She frowned at the naked Terry, at the thick lips of her pussy that smiled 
leeringly, at Phil's thick, pearly sex cream that oozed from her vag and 
trickled into the crack of her ass. 

Mavis shrugged and rose to mix her and Phil another drink. "We'll go home in 
the morning," she murmured, studying herself in the mirror above the 
dresser, satisfied with her trim figure that was amply revealed by the 
scanty panties and bra. "Then Phil can get the ball rolling with the police 
and insurance company." 

She accepted her husband's ardent kiss when he merged naked from the shower. 
"Why don't you help Terry to a shower," he said, "later, I have some more 
questions I want to put to her." 

"Why is a shower important?" Mavis pouted. 

She frowned at Phil's wide grin. 

"I am to use my exclamation point on her again and I want a nice, clean, 
perfumy sentence to punctuate." 

 CHAPTER SIXTEEN 

During the night, in the still darkness of the motel, Mavis heard her 
husband working on the passionate Terry. The sodden sound of big cock 
thudding into female flesh was loud in the room. The earthy odor of male and 
female sex pervaded the close air. 

"Where have the men hidden the money, Terry?" she heard Phil pant as he 
slammed his prick into the whimpering Terry's cunt. 

"In-in-in their homes. I don't know-oh, fuck me! God, you fuck a girl good!" 

"Where in their houses, Terry?" Phil persisted and Mavis thought she could 
actually hear the head of her husband's cock banging against the bottom of 
Terry's sex well. "Where did Mickey hide his share of the money?" 

Squish-sqnish! Squish-squish! 

Mavis could visualize Phil's long post sliding in and out of Terry's elastic 
hole in prodigious strokes. Plop-plop; plop-plop. 

He was really banging her tail, Mavis thought. That is the sound of his 
balls slap-slapping against her upturned bottom end. 

"... in the attic of the garage...." Terry groaned. "Oh, please! Don't talk! 
Just fuck me! Give me lots and lots of your wonderful prick! I'm cumming!" 
she screamed suddenly. 

And the quickening complaint of the bed told Mavis that Phil was plunging 
the prick to the small young woman. "The others?" Phil grunted as Terry 
sobbed with erotic fulfillment. 

Mavis drifted into sleep and was only vaguely aware of her husband joining 
her in bed. Then it was morning and Phil awakened her with a long kiss and 
his fingers pinching a nipple. 

"Let's get on the road," Phil urged, slapping the women's bare bottoms as he 
urged them from the beds. Mavis noted that Terry's eyes were red, there was 
an almost petulant pout on her puffy lips. Phil must have kept her awake and 
fucked her most of the night, she thought as she and Terry dressed in 
silence. 

* * * 

As they drove into Salt Lake City, Mavis wondered idly whether little Becky 
had gotten her Wednesday screw from Willie Quentin yet. 

Phil parked downtown and fished a nearly full bottle of scotch from a 
suitcase. Then he steered the two women into a club that he and Mavis 
frequented on nights out. While Terry was in the women's lounge, he told 
Mavis, "You two drink setups while I'm gone. I want to see the county 
prosecutor, talk to the SLCPD brass and get my boss down here. I'll be back 
as soon as I can." 

He returned in a couple of hours, had a couple of drinks with Mavis and 
Terry. "Let's go home," he said and Mavis nodded. Although he was silent, 
Mavis knew him well enough to sense he was pleased and excited. 

As he parked the car in the garage, Phil said, "The prosecutor obtained 
arrest and search warrants. Let's get inside, have a drink and wait for 
developments." 

As he sloshed scotch into three glasses, he winked at Mavis and grinned. "My 
boss-right on the spot-said that if this pans out, I have the agency's 
managerial job in Seattle. If we want it." 

Mavis' heart jumped and drummed rapidly in her breast. "That would be 
wonderful, honey." Then she frowned. "Gad! You mix a strong drink." 

"Gotta be strong!" Phil exclaimed. "This may be a banner day for the 
Morans!" 

About thirty minutes later, he returned from answering the telephone in the 
den, a smug expression on his face. He sat on the arm of Mavis' chair, 
leaned over and whispered, "They found some of the loot at the Lewis home; 
Mick is in custody. Damn! I would like to see the expression on Ben Glover's 
face when they hit him!" 

Terry had been silent so long that when she did speak, Mavis felt she had 
just walked into the house. "Whatever is going to happen?" 

Mavis glanced at her husband's satisfied smile. "The damned suspicion that 
has been aimed my way will be erased! There's going to be hell to pay in 
some houses around this neighborhood." 

A few minutes later, as Mavis was replenishing drinks, Miriam Carr rushed 
through the back door. "God! Phil What's going on? Hank and I were having a 
drink in the den and a whole flock of cops from downtown showed up! They 
have a search warrant and they're ransacking the house! They arrested Hank!" 

Mavis could tell from Miriam's furtive eyes that the raid held no mystery. 
"Want a drink, hon!" she mixed one anyway. 

"I guess I need one. What the hell is going to happen?" 

Mavis glanced at her husband, loved the noncommittal way he shrugged. 

"Hank has been on this fuckin' force for fourteen years! Where do these 
lousy Salt Lake cops get off, arresting him?" 

The chimes were sounded from the back door and Phil hurried to answer the 
beckon. 

When he returned, he motioned Mavis aside. "Hank is on his way downtown to 
jail; police and insurance investigators found more than one-hundred 
thousand bucks in a floor trap under his and Miriam's bar in the den. They 
found about the same amount of money at Willie's house, spread under bat 
insulation in the ceiling. They arrested Willie in his office at the store. 
One of the officers said he heard they hauled him, cock and all, right out 
of the saddle of that little Becky Samon!" 

"They should have let him finish his ride!" Mavis smirked. 

The back door slammed and Connie Quentin dashed into the living room. 
"Willie's been arrested!" 

"We know," Mavis soothed, mixing her a drink without asking if she wanted 
one; it was obvious she needed one. 

A short time later, as Mavis was studying Miriam and Terry and Connie 
huddled together on a sofa, the front door chimes echoed through the house. 
Phil opened the door and admitted two men from his agency and a plainclothes 
policeman, a detective captain. 

"Glover is a riot," the captain said. "We had no trouble with him. He was 
trying to wear out his part of the take by counting it over and over. He had 
more than a hundred thou spread out on the kitchen table in neat little 
piles!" 

Mavis thought the captain seemed embarrassed, apologetic and pleased. He 
took a straight shot of scotch and offered Phil his hand. "Phil," he said 
huskily, "I never wanted to suspect you; you're a damned good investigator. 
I understand from these fellows of your agency we're going to lose you to 
Seattle. Are you going to take it?" 

"Yes," Mavis responded as Phil started to nod slowly. 

"Well, good luck," the captain said, "I better get downtown. I have a lot of 
paperwork to put in order. God! What a haul today has been!" Mavis let him 
out and closed the door slowly, silently. She turned as Phil slowly unwound. 
"Fellows," he said softly, "what would you like?" 

"Jim here," one of the insurance agency representatives said, "is 
transferring in from our Topeka, Kansas, office. He's going to need a house. 
The boss thought maybe he could look over yours and buy it, if you take the 
Seattle promotion." 

"Sure, sure," Phil said. 

And Mavis peered at him intently as her husband's eyes brightened. 

"How long has it been since you saw your wife-what's your name?" 

"Jim Svenson," he said. "About two months." 

"Just a minute, before you look around. I think it would be a good idea if 
you took along a guide and chaperone. Mavis and I wouldn't want you to be 
lonely." 

Mavis scowled at her husband. Whom did he have in mind to escort a potential 
house buyer? His implication was plain-and she was the only one who really 
knew the house. 

"Okay, ladies," Phil commanded, pointing at Connie and Miriam and Terry, "on 
your feet! And get your clothes off! Jim, the bedrooms are at the top of the 
stairs-make yourself at home." 

When the three women hesitated, Phil crossed the room and quickly undressed 
them. They were too stunned to protest. "Take your pick-gentlemen-you too, 
Mark-we have the finest hostesses in town." 

"You dirty, rotten bastard!" Connie exploded. "We won't...." 

"Oh, shut up, Con!" Miriam snarled. "We may be going someplace where we 
won't get any decent male twanging for a long time; so let's have a good 
fuck and enjoy it! The Swede looks like he could take on two girls-judging 
from the bulge in his pants! Well, studs, make a choice; the odd girl can go 
with the big galoot from Topeka!" 

Mavis had no idea how they would pair off as the men trudged up the stairs, 
the three women prancing ahead of them. She didn't care. 

Suddenly, she felt she no longer was a sex captive. "Now, Phil," she teased, 
"What happens now?" 

"Well, we get ten percent of the recovered loot as reward-something over 
forty thousand dollars; we'll go to Seattle...." 

"Come on!" she demanded. "I mean right now!" 

"Well," he taunted her, exploring her boobies with one hand and squeezing 
her butt with the other, "I think I'll strip my wife, lay her out on the 
floor and have a good, choice piece of ass for a change." 

"Oooooohhhhh," Mavis sighed as he slid his long cock into her tight cranny. 
She liked being this kind of sex captive. "Ooooohhhhhh! Fuck me, 
darling...." 


THE END
