GGL-116  Condo Cum-Ons
(Marsha Moore)


"For God's Sakes, Harry, get away from that window. Haven't you ogled that 
little bitch next door enough for one day?" Marsha Burns scolded at her 
husband from across the room where she had the Sunday paper laid out on the 
floor. "Her husband's going to catch you eyeing her and be over here with a 
baseball bat in a few minutes." 

"Man," he replied, turning toward his wife and smiling. "I'd give a whole 
month's pay to get a little of that stuff. I haven't seen anything that 
young and tender since we had that trip to Europe three years ago. I could 
really go for that little doll." 

He turned slowly from the den window where he had been looking out over his 
new neighbors' back yard, paused for a moment and then stole another quick 
glance at the young, lithe blonde in the tight shorts pushing the lawn mower 
next door. He sighed heavily and walked across the room to where his wife 
was lying in her robe on the thick, soft mohair rug. 

"I like 'em with experience too, baby, don't get me wrong," he grinned, 
dropping to his knees to sit beside her on the floor. "I spent too many 
years training you the right way not to appreciate it, but you gotta admit a 
little strange stuff never hurt anyone." 

"Well, I'm glad it doesn't." Marsha Burns looked up at him from the floor. 
"If it did, you'd have been dead and gone a long time ago." 

"Baby, that's where I get the experience to keep a nympho like you happy. I 
couldn't have held on to you for three minutes if I weren't the best. Now 
could I? Besides, you get your share from the club." 

Harry reached down the length of her long, well-shaped legs to the back of 
her knees and playfully brought his hand up under her robe, pushing the hem 
abruptly up the backs of her thighs before she could resist. 

"Ohhh, you beast," she jumped forward trying to escape the playful fingers 
coursing their way up along the sensitive parts of her legs. "Stop, stop it, 
Harry, please, please," she giggled out of control, knocking the cup of 
coffee she had been drinking into the air and spilling it across the rug, 
"Look what you done now. Ohhhh, Ohhhh, God stop, Harry, please stop." 

Harry grinned above her, placing one hand in the small of her back and 
pinning her to the floor, continued his rummaging up between his wife's 
flailing legs and laughing aloud at the same time at her helpless squeals 
for mercy. 

"No pants this morning, eh," he chided loudly as her robe flew up, exposing 
the lush, white, rounded cheeks of her buttocks. "Don't tell me I don't have 
a nympho here. Didn't I give you enough last night. Didn't I, didn't I?" 

"Ohhhh, yes, Harryeee! Yes, yes, anything you say, just stop it! Stop it, 
you're driving me crazy!" his wife bucked and twisted beneath the hand 
holding her tightly to the floor, laughing uncontrollably from the playful 
tickling he was subjecting her to. 

"Anything I say, anything," he demanded playfully, continuing the twisting 
of her flesh between her legs. 

"Yes! Ohhhh, yes, anything, anything!" 

"Help me get in those short pants next door?" 

"Yes, damn you, yes, just stop, stop!" 

He laughed aloud again and released his hold on her squirming body, 
withdrawing his hand from up under her robe. "That's my baby, knew you 
wouldn't deny me anything." 

"You bastard," his wife grinned up at him as she rolled over and smoothed 
the wrinkled material back into place. "I might have known you had something 
in mind when you started playing that little game of hanky panky with me." 

"Nonsense, love, you know I would have done that anyway. Besides, after we 
discuss this little matter and decide how we're going to approach it I just 
might give you a little reward: You'd like that, wouldn't you?" 

"Mmmmm," she smiled up at him, coquettishly. "I might just accept your offer 
if you think you're up to it." 

"Baby, I'm always up to it." He said rising from the floor. "What about a 
pick-me-up to stir up the blood a little? After all, it's Sunday and that's 
as good an excuse as any." 

"Since when did you need an excuse to swill that stuff down? If I don't kill 
you first then one of these days it will." 

"I can handle it, Sweetie, you know that," he winked at her. "What'll you 
have?" 

"If you're really serious about that offer," she smiled, "I'd better have a 
little vitamin with it. Make it a good strong screwdriver and easy on the 
orange juice." 

Harry walked behind the well stocked bar and mixed the drinks quickly and 
skillfully while he hummed happily to himself. He knew now that as soon as 
he had Marsha's agreement on the seduction of their young, luscious new 
neighbor that it wouldn't be long before he was in. She had never failed him 
yet when she had put her heart in a thing and he knew that she had an 
interest also in the young punk of a husband the girl had. He and Marsha 
made a good pair, he mused as he poured two generous shots of vodka into 
each glass on the bar in front of him. They both liked the innocent, 
virginal type that took some real work and planning to get at. The triumph 
was so much greater when it became a real act of seduction and not just one 
of the swapping things that they had become so involved in. Of course, he 
enjoyed those too, but the recruiting of new members was the fun part. 
Taking two young innocents this way and leading them on into a social life 
that they thought was modern and liberal until all of a sudden, without 
warning, they were watching each other get screwed silly by someone they 
hardly knew. 

Aside from the fact that his new neighbor was a cute little wench that he'd 
really like to give it to, he'd enjoy seeing the expression on the face of 
that punk kid the first time he saw his young wife getting a fuck thrown to 
her by someone else. This would be half the satisfaction and would be good 
to take him down a peg or two. Harry smiled in satisfactory anticipation. He 
had seen a thousand like that kid, fresh in the business world and knowing 
it all. All dressed alike in their permanent press button-down shirts and 
Ivy League suits, and all ready to conquer the world. His old man had 
probably put him through school, too, and maybe even landed him the job. He 
hadn't had to scrounge the best he could to get ahead like he himself had 
had to do, starting as a used car salesman during the depression when people 
could afford a car like they could fly to the moon. Well, he had learned a 
few things about living and life that he could teach that young punk and all 
his kind. They thought they knew it all with their constant demonstrations 
against this and that cause that they hadn't really enough experience to 
fully understand. Well, maybe he didn't understand those things either as 
much as he should but he did know about people and enough to understand that 
there was nothing they wouldn't do if subjected to the right circumstances. 
By God, he would make certain his new neighbors got their chance to be 
subjected to those circumstances. 

"What's taking so long with those pick-me-ups?" His thoughts were suddenly 
interrupted by the lazy drawling voice of Marsha floating across the room. 
"You must be stalling. Aren't planning to renege on your promise, I hope. I 
might change my mind about helping with the little hussy next door." 

"Not on your life, baby. You're going to get a working over like you haven't 
had since last night. I'm gonna practice up a little for the little bitch 
next door." 

"Well, I don't know about that. I'd kinda like to be taken for me, and not 
some young chick you don't even know will put out." 

"Oh, she'll put out all right," Harry grinned, nodding his head positively. 
"With the plan I've got worked out, we'll have 'em both in the rack within a 
week." 

"You don't even know if you can talk to them, my dear boy. Didn't he kind of 
cut you off yesterday when you invited them over for a drink?" 

"Yeah, he did," Harry winced in remembrance, handing the orange-colored 
drink down to Marsha and taking a seat beside her. "Gave me the impression 
he felt he was just a little too smart to mix with the likes of a used car 
salesman. He's been to college and all that. Even works in a bank as an 
investment executive, but it still don't cut no mustard with me." 

"My dear, you're a very modest used car salesman. After all, you do own five 
agencies here in the County. That should make you just about the richest 
used car salesman in the country." 

"Just a figure of speech," Harry smiled turning his glass up and draining a 
large swallow from it. "It doesn't seem to matter how far you go in this 
business, though, everyone still thinks you're just a salesman and there 
doesn't seem to be anyone any lower on the social ladder than one who sells 
cars no matter how rich they might be." 

"I think it's just that put-on home-spun attitude of yours. You know, `I'm 
just a country boy type.' But you can't kid me, Harry. I've lived with you 
long enough to know that you push that image to the hilt." 

"Never had a complaint in the business," Harry said. "Nobody likes to admit 
they've been had by a yokel even if you've taken the shirt off their back. 
They even brag to their friends about the good deals they get and then they 
come down to get their shirts taken off too. It's all one big 
merry-go-round. But we can't complain, can we? We're doin' pretty well." 

"Mmmmm, Why do you think I left the chorus line in Vegas, my dear? Certainly 
not your good looks." 

"Is it all money, baby? Is that why you've stuck around for eight years?" 
Harry grinned his broad grin again and placed his hand on the back of her 
thigh, massaging the soft, sensitive flesh gently. 

"Harry," she crooned softly, "Be careful, we've got business to plan out 
remember." She looked up at him coyly as he continued the teasing 
ministrations. 

Marsha gritted her teeth slightly as she felt the old feeling drifting 
slowly through the tips of her nerves. She was lucky to have Harry for a 
husband and she knew it well. He was one of the wealthiest and most 
successful car dealers in the country and took very good care of her in 
spite of the flamboyant crudeness and periodic streaks of cruelty in his 
sometimes overzealous sexual demands. Not that she minded the latter, she 
mused, she was almost as bad as he was and perhaps that was what held them 
together. He didn't mind at all what she did as long as she didn't hide it 
from him and was there when he needed her. But, by the same token, he did 
whatever he liked also in the way of outside sexual activity but would never 
hide it from her. In fact, it had made their marriage more exciting than 
anything else and had brought them closer together. Then, there was the swap 
club too. 

Yes, both by common consent had had their own little affairs but had never 
let them get beyond the physical stage. It was kind of like having your cake 
and eating it too and had added so much interest to their lives together 
that she could never want it any other way. She liked the arrangement they 
had with either being able to do as they pleased because she had seen so 
many of her friends lapse into a bored and almost unbearable existence 
without any variety in their lives at all. It wasn't pleasant watching 
people you had known as young, gay individuals suddenly wilting away into 
sad mechanical-like suburban night dwellers whose every action fitted into a 
slot or pattern that varied not one iota from one year to the next. She was 
grateful to Harry for salvaging her from this fate and really, in the 
beginning anyway, almost forcing her to accept the fact that life could be 
lived in a different manner than that accepted without question by the 
majority of society. She had to admit, it had taken some doing on his part 
to get her to participate that first time in the swapping thing that was so 
popular now but after the first time she hadn't complained about going to 
the meetings again. In fact, she rather looked forward to these little 
twice-monthly affairs now and planned her whole schedule around them. She 
absolutely made certain she had an easy day before the meetings so that she 
wouldn't be too tired to give her best. She even made Harry come home early 
from the office to rest up and take a nap so he, too, would be prepared for 
the long exacting evening. 

"Oooohhh," she moaned suddenly as her mind returned to reality. Harry's hand 
had reached her buttocks again and he had run the tips of his fingers 
feather-like down the full length of the soft-white crevice sending chills 
of sensation rippling across her skin. "Are you crazy, man? You want to be 
eaten alive?" 

"Eaten, yes baby, but not alive," he joked, twitching his fingers again into 
the slightly squirming crevice. "But don't get impatient, we'll come to 
that." 

"Well, you just stop it and get me another drink. We've got some planning to 
do. You've gotten me all excited over our new victims and I want to hear 
your bright little plan to bridge this social gap you think exists." 

"Just don't you worry, my little pet, I've got it all figured. Been thinking 
about it since that punk gave me the old brush-off yesterday. I think we 
might even be able to work it so they'll be our little donation to the club. 
You know we're due to cough up another couple next month and we haven't even 
started on it yet." 

"That's right," Marsha frowned. "It is our turn. Has it been three months 
since we brought in Sue and Charley?" 

"It sure has and you know the rules, bring in a couple every three months or 
you're out for good. We haven't been working on it. Here, give me your glass 
and let me fill it while I lay out the plan for you." 

"Harry Burns," Marsha chided, "I think you're out of your mind. Even if you 
do con her into bed with you, which I doubt, unless you rape her, I don't 
think you'd ever get a couple like that to go along with a group swap. 
They're just too young and naive. Why, I bet they haven't even been married 
a year." 

"Right you are, baby," Harry said as he rose to mix more drinks. "But that's 
the kind that when they fall, they fall hard. It'll be fun trying anyway 
even if we don't succeed and we will. Have you ever seen old Harry fail yet, 
baby?" 

"No, I guess not," Marsha had to admit. He just seemed to have a way with 
him that brought him anything he wanted. Women were always repulsed by him 
at first just as she had been in the beginning, but sooner or later, he 
worked a way to get to them. And God help them once he did, she mused. 

"Make mine a double this time, lover, I think I'm going to need it to keep 
from crying over the fate you've got planned for this poor little girl next 
door." 

"Poor little girl, my tail." Harry responded sarcastically from behind the 
bar. "Have you seen that set of boobs she carries around in front of her? 
Man I can't wait to get my teeth into those." 

"Well, don't get overly excited and bite them off." Marsha retorted, a bored 
tone in her voice. "That's known as the crime of mayhem." 

"Mayhem, scayhem," laughed Harry. "It just might be worth ninety days in the 
hoosegow to get a nibble at those. I'd be willing to risk it anyway." 

"Oh, shut up and bring my drink. I hate to see you get worked up this way 
over some other little slut and then take it out on me all afternoon. Come 
on and tell me this plan of yours so I can get worked up, too. You know, I 
just might enjoy teaching that poor innocent young boy a thing or two. I 
feel most motherly every time I see him." 

"You're not that old, chicken," he laughed, walking to the window again with 
the full glasses in his hands. "Man-o-man, look at that tight little ass 
almost hanging out of those shorts. There oughta be a law against that." 

"Harry! Get away from that window," Marsha scolded again. "You've got all 
you can handle at home right now. As soon as you deliver him to me then you 
can have all of that you can get, but not until then. I'm a very jealous 
wife, remember." 

"OK, OK, if you want to be a kill-joy and take away the few pleasures a man 
my age has left in this life, then be a bitch. I'll just have to settle for 
you this afternoon." 

"Harry," Marsha smiled at him demurely. "Let's take these drinks to the 
bedroom, shall we?" 

"Why, you little whore!" Harry smiled, following behind her down the 
hallway. "You're about the most selfish thing alive. You always come first. 
You drug me away from that window for your own selfish designs, I might have 
known." 

"I don't see you lagging far behind, my love." Marsha cooed, turning just 
inside the door and peeling her robe from her body seductively and dropping 
it to her feet. "Of course, if you'd rather not. .." 

"Let's not be too hasty now," Harry replied quickly, his face flushing 
slightly as his eyes locked on his wife's full well-tanned body. "I think we 
can work something out between us without too much fuss and bother." 

Marsha smiled at him coyly and did a small pirouette in the center of the 
room before she walked softly to the huge double king sized bed and lay down 
full in the center of it, spreading her limbs in a wide crucifixion 
position. She smiled lazily up at him without a word, just a seductive smile 
playing across her lips. Harry's breath sucked in slightly from the sudden 
excitement of the pose she had taken. 

Damn, he thought, There's just no one else like her. His eyes, for the 
millionth time in their eight years of marriage, played over full 
well-rounded curves and sent tiny ripples of desire running swiftly over the 
sensitive nerve-ends of his skin. His eyes roamed over the naked contours 
stretched out in anticipation before him. They stopped for a moment on the 
high-set round breasts that were set closely together, leaving room for the 
narrowest of valleys running between their magnificent firmness. He never 
failed to marvel at how they kept their shape at all times, in spite of 
their size. This possibly was the reason for her lead position in the chorus 
line at Vegas where he had first seen her and decided that he had to have 
her. Well, he had, and it had lasted a long time. He had shed his second 
wife with a quickie Nevada divorce and they were married a few months later. 
Nothing had changed since then and he still marveled at her each and every 
time he saw her in the nude. She was holding up pretty well for a 
thirty-one-year-old and if he weren't such a lecherous bastard, he mused 
silently to himself, he would never have had to step out of the house. She 
was enough for any one man. His eyes flicked lower to the enticingly 
rounded, ivory-sheened lips that led to the delicious sweep of long, 
gradually rounded thighs. Between her slightly spread legs he could see 
clearly through the soft pubic hair covering her loins the fleshy pinkness 
of her vaginal slit glistening wetly in the dim light seeping through the 
curtains. 

"Well, lover, are you going to stand there all day? Hand me my drink and get 
naked, Marsha teased at him, fully aware of the effect the licentious 
position of her body was having on him. She squirmed her buttocks down into 
the mattress, enjoying the power she was exerting over him by the lewd 
exhibition of her body and watching with secret satisfaction the changing 
expressions flickering across his lips. 

"You little prick-tease," Harry half growled, "You've gotten yourself a pile 
of trouble now and you just might not get out of it until tomorrow morning, 
if then." 

He handed her the double gin and set his own on the table by the bed, 
pulling at the same time at his clothes. It took only a moment for them to 
fall quickly to the floor where he left them lying in a disorganized heap. 
He stood for a moment at the edge of the bed looking down at her naked form, 
spread waiting on the bed. His long, thick penis stood out rigid beneath the 
slight paunch he was developing. Marsha had risen to one elbow to take a 
long sip from the tall drink and was looking directly at his hardness. 

"Mmmmm," she said softly for effect, as she brought the glass down from her 
lips. "That didn't take long." 

"No Ma'am. Old Daddy is ready, right now. Open 'em wide, honey, I'm coming 
in fast." He grinned down at her taking the glass from her hand. 

"Hey, wait a minute!" Marsha mockingly screamed as she rolled out of the way 
of his leap onto the bed. "You were going to fire me up a little bit by 
telling me what you were going to do to that little blonde thing next door!" 

"Oh, baby, come on," Harry good-naturedly pleaded. He knew it was a game and 
they played it often. He was ready now but knew she liked to be coaxed a 
little before the action began. 

"Nope, no story, no nookie." She said, squirming seductively just out of 
arm's reach across the bed. 

"OK, OK, if that's the way you want it. I'll tell you how you're going to 
get your share too. Is that a deal?" 

"Is it a deal!" She smiled, moving over close to him and stretching the full 
length of her body tightly against him. "That's the best part of the deal." 

"Well, it just might take you awhile to recover from what you're going to 
get in a second so I'll wait a few days to put it into effect." 

"Don't you worry about me," His wife nuzzled against his ear. "You can bring 
him on this afternoon after I've taken you on if you like. You never could 
stay long enough to make me beg for mercy." 

"We'll see about that later." he grinned over at her, taking her hand and 
pushing it down around the thickness of his upstanding penis. She began to 
stroke and then to massage it, rubbing the skin back and forth and then 
slipping her hand to his balls, cradling their softness in her palm. Harry 
groaned and gritted his teeth at her gentle ministrations of his testicles 
and penis. 

"Do you want to hear that story or not?" he sputtered as she gave a gentle 
squeeze that sent shivers down his spine. 

"Mmmmm," she answered softly, "just amusing myself in the meantime." 

"Well," Harry ground his teeth again and began. "I figure the way to get her 
is through him. If we can get him in a position where he has to go along 
with it then we've got it made." 

"And just how do you propose to do that?" his wife asked softly, continuing 
the gentle stroking of the loose foreskin up and down the full length of his 
rod. 

"That's going to be your job. I did manage to get out of him that his wife 
is going to her mother's for a few days starting tomorrow and I thought we 
might get him out for dinner and a few drinks and let you go to work on him. 
I can work out an excuse to get lost so he won't suspect anything and you 
can take it from there. Show him the "Playpen" downstairs, that always 
works." 

"Mmmm, I like. Gives me a chance to show my talents-and satisfy my maternal 
instincts all at the same time," she crooned gently. "Darling, for this you 
get a reward while you tell me how you think you can get him out with us if 
he's got the superiority bit about him." 

His wife moved down the bed, trailing the soft moistness of her lips down 
across the soft flabbiness of his stomach. Her fingernails scratched lightly 
over his cock that reached yearningly up toward the ceiling. Suddenly, she 
was hovering on all fours with her face poised just above it until he could 
feel the hot air from her breath blowing close against it. 

"Go on with the story, Darling," she cooed softly, "I'm waiting." 

"And," Harry swallowed deeply as his wife haunched on all fours over his 
loins, stroked his hardness first with one hand and then between both of 
them at the same time, "You'll get him in the sack with you ooooh." 

He groaned and thrust his loins forward involuntarily as the warm moistness 
of her open lips closed over the throbbing, sensitive head of his cock. 

"And, ooh, he'll be throwing it to you, oooh," he moaned again, reaching 
down and tangling his hands tightly in her hair to guide the rhythm of her 
bobbing head below. He lifted his head slightly from the pillow to watch her 
contorted face. It made the sensation that much more exciting when he could 
see the thickness of his rod buried between her sucking lips. 

"Go-wa on-a," she mumbled around his plunging instrument, struggling to get 
the words out and at the same time increase the twirling of her tongue 
around the moist stickiness of the blood-inflated head. 

"Fuck it, you can wait to hear the goddamn story," Harry growled as she 
began to suck a little harder. "You just suck it baby, and Daddy'll tell you 
all about it later." 

He looked at the mirror on the wall facing the bed so he could get a good 
profile look at his wife's face as his hardening shaft began to saw 
rhythmically in and out of her ovaled mouth. The very sight of it caused his 
loins to tense and jerk into her face until in the mirror it looked as 
though he were sinking the full length of it all the way down her throat. 
Almost all of it seemed to disappear with each hard thrust he made until 
only a little stretch of it showed white and glistening protruding from 
between her lips. 

Her tongue, with a nerve-tingling lick on the outstroke was making the head 
throb and jerk as though his heart itself were beating inside. He watched, 
hypnotized in the mirror, watching the flesh of her lips being pulled out 
grotesquely, clinging to the flesh of his prick as she sucked hungrily, her 
mind caught up in the task with all her concentration. Her breasts jerked 
and danced below her pumping torso, adding to the lust-inciting picture 
presented to him in the glass. 

"Suck it, baby, suck it," he hissed, dropping his head back heavily on the 
pillow and pretending for the moment it were the blonde in the tight shorts 
next door. Goddamn, he'd like to have her like this, ramming it deep in her 
throat. By God, he'd shove it all the way down to her tonsils when he did 
get her. He'd pump his hot sperm all the way down- her throat and into that 
white little belly of hers until she burst. 

"Come on, baby, come on," he grunted as his wife slaved below, her body 
beginning to glisten from the tiny droplets of sweat forming over her skin. 
He felt like pissing as he felt the pressure growing in his balls. He knew 
it wouldn't be long now. His cock felt like it was filled with lead and 
ready to explode like the popping of a giant balloon that when it went would 
spew its insides for miles in all directions. He shoved his loins hard up 
against her face, hearing her protesting mumble that went unheeded in his 
quest for the final end of this torture that was building - building - 
building until all at once he felt the white hot stream begin deep in his 
balls and race steam-like the length of his plunging cock. He gasped and his 
lips bared back over his teeth as though being tortured by fire. 

His cock began a sudden wild staccato jerking that flooded without warning 
his wife's wildly sucking mouth with gust after gust of the white-hot sperm, 
bloating her cheeks outward with each bullet-like spurt until she swallowed 
to keep from choking, mewling and crooning at his thrusting loins. 

"Don't stop, baby, keep sucking, keep sucking!" he gasped as his hands 
tangled tighter in her hair, convulsively ramming his cork farther and 
farther down her throat. She went on sucking wildly as he continued shooting 
his load deep, deep into her mouth. 

With one last earth-shattering groan, he emptied the last of his sperm into 
her lips but she went on nibbling gently, sucking every last drop from the 
spurting gland. 

Gradually, the satiated penis deflated in her mouth. Harry threw his arms 
out to the side in exhaustion, a great sigh of relief escaping from his 
lips. She lay for awhile with her head on his thigh, still nibbling gently 
at the limp, useless penis in front of her and then she crawled up over his 
belly and kissed him hard on the lips. 

"What happened to my story, lover?" she teased softly, smiling down at him 
with a slight sparkle of triumph in her eyes. 

"Why you little bitch! You had that planned all along, didn't you?" Harry 
half growled, half groaned. "Imagine picking on a guy ten years older than 
you." 

"You'll have your chance to get even, dear, I'll see to that in a few 
minutes. Now tell me the happy ending about how you'll talk Mr. Big next 
door into coming out for dinner." 

"Simple, love, I'll do a little shifting of my funds. We have so much money 
invested in stocks his boss old man Jordan'll do anything I say to get it. 
He can't very well turn down a dinner invitation with a client, can he?" 

"My you are clever," his wife teased as she reached her hand down and felt 
him hardening again. "And, an insatiable old bastard too," she grinned, 
feeling the moisture rising between her thighs. She knew it was going to be 
a long, delicious night and she smiled silently to herself in anticipation. 

Carol Benson hummed softly to herself as she sat before the dressing table 
combing out her long silken blonde hair. A tiny pout lined her lips as she 
struggled momentarily against a particularly stubborn snag that impeded the 
smooth course of the brush running downward toward her shoulders. 

"Ninety eight, ninety nine, and one hundred, there finished." she breathed 
in relief. She hated this morning ritual, but had been doing it since she 
was a little girl. It was one of those things her mother had insisted on as 
being healthy for the hair and she had to admit it had certainly helped her 
to retain that soft golden look, although, she sometimes wondered if it 
wouldn't have remained that way anyway. She took a long last critical look 
at it and then apparently satisfied, began to deftly apply her make up. It 
took but a moment as she didn't use much; just a touch of natural colored 
lipstick, that added a slight flesh color to her already full sensuous lips, 
and a quick line of eye make-up, that did nothing more than accentuate 
slightly their light hazel beauty. 

Cocking her head to one side, she surveyed the results of her work. She 
liked it and in spite of her inbred modesty, had to admit to herself that 
she was a very pretty little girl. She must be, she smiled, she had landed 
Bob for a husband and that had been a coup d'etat of the first order. She 
must have had at least ten serious rivals at the office who had been trying 
with every wile they possessed to land him. But she had won after a short 
struggle and that was the important thing. Not every girl got the most 
promising young executive in a banking company this size for a husband. 

He was going to be a success and a big one, there was no doubt in anyone's 
mind about that and in the three years since they had been married he had 
started very well. He was working for one of the best banks in California 
and now after just five years with them he had been given this chance in the 
main office to handle their investment accounts all on his own. Mr. Jordan, 
the president of the company, had even taken them out to dinner several 
weeks ago when Bob's promotion had been announced. He had told her 
confidentially while they had been dancing together that he expected big do 
all in her power to help him. It had really made it right to the top before 
too many years had passed. He also had complimented her on her graciousness 
and added that a good wife was also one of the keys to success in this 
business and he thought Bob had done well in that respect too. This had made 
her feel wonderful and she had promised herself that she would do all in her 
power to help him and had really made her feel like a partner in his 
success. This was supposedly the key element in a good marriage and made her 
feel needed in the strictest sense. Of course, she always gave Bob full 
credit for his successes and stayed pretty much in the background except to 
always look pretty and act hospitable at the many social functions they had 
to attend and to keep her husband as happy as possible at home. This she 
thought she was doing, though sometimes it was hard to tell. He was so 
wrapped up in learning his new job, and with all the things she had to do to 
move into this new house, they both just collapsed in the evenings after 
dinner. It hadn't given them much time together, not even for lovemaking, 
and this worried her. Not because she liked it so much, but because he 
didn't seem to need her as much or as often as he did a few weeks ago. 

Bob had taken good care of arranging the transfer to the new house though. 
Mr. Jordan had absolutely insisted that they move to a more fashionable 
neighborhood as Bob would have important clients to entertain at home. She 
still remembered the excitement she had felt when Mr. Jordan had said at the 
dinner table, "Bob, my boy, you realize with this new position you're going 
to have to start living in the manner commensurate with the position of a 
banking executive." 

Bob had answered something about his salary still not being enough to live 
on an even par with the wealthy customers whose accounts he would be 
handling and Mr. Jordan had assured him, "Don't you worry about that, my 
boy. The bank has decided to take care of a down payment for you and give 
you a housing and entertainment allowance that'll take care of that little 
problem." 

Carol hadn't been able to believe it when Bob had proudly brought her to the 
new house the first time about a week ago. The bank had handled the transfer 
of title and even the furnishing. She had been just a little disappointed in 
the furnishing of it at first, but rationalized that they could do what they 
liked later on when they really got on their feet. If Bob's present success 
continued that wouldn't be too long. Anyway, they had done a more than 
acceptable job through a decorating firm that handled all their new 
buildings and she couldn't really complain except for the fact that she had 
no say in it. This, she realized, was just vanity on her part and not really 
important. She could do without it for awhile. 

She was suddenly jerked from her reverie by the ringing of the doorbell. My 
God, she thought to herself as she tightened her robe around the softness of 
her body, that's the most awful rasping sound I've ever heard. That's one 
thing I'll have to change right away. 

She walked down the long hallway from the bedroom and opened the front door. 
A smallish attractive woman she had never seen before was standing on the 
front steps. 

"Hello there, I'm your new neighbor, Jean Talbot, from across the street and 
just wanted to drop by and welcome you to the neighborhood." 

"Oh, how nice," Carol said, smiling sweetly in surprise. "Won't you come in 
and have some coffee?" 

"Oh my dear, I don't want to disturb you, it looks as though you're just, 
getting dressed. I can come back later when you've finished." 

"No, don't be silly. Do come in." 

She blushed slightly when she looked down at her robe and realized that the 
woman must think she was certainly an irresponsible housewife still lounging 
around without her clothes on at ten o'clock in the morning. "Please come in 
and have some coffee with me. I've just finished cleaning the house," she 
added in self-justification, "and can slip something on real quick." 

"Well, just for a little while then," the woman replied. "I don't want to 
upset your schedule. I know you must be pretty busy with all the problems of 
moving in and all." 

"Oh, it's not too bad," Carol said, ushering her into the low modern living 
room. "My husband took care of most of the problems before we even changed 
houses. Please sit down and let me get the coffee. It'll just take a minute. 
It's all ready." 

She went to the kitchen and hurriedly got out their new serving set from the 
cabinet, preparing a tray with two cups from the new Rosenthal china that 
the bank had been so kind as to include in furnishing the house. It seemed 
they had forgotten nothing and Carol felt almost as though she were taking 
over someone else's house complete. She thought for a moment of running into 
the bedroom and changing now but decided she had better get some coffee to 
her guest first. She was certain they were more conscious of their social 
etiquette here than they were in the lower middle-class neighborhood they 
had just moved from. She hoped she could cope with the sudden change and had 
to admit to herself that she was more worried about it than she would allow 
herself to believe. 

"Here we are, Jean," she smiled graciously as she entered the living room 
and placed the tray on the table. "Would it be terribly impolite of me to 
excuse myself and get into my shorts quickly? I hate to play hostess with 
just a house-coat on." 

"Oh, not at all. I can take care of myself. Besides, I'm enjoying this 
beautiful living room of yours. I must say, you've decorated it in the best 
of taste." 

"Why thank you," Carol said, pinking slightly at the compliment. She didn't 
dare admit she had had it done for her. It would be just too degrading. A 
woman was supposed to take care of that part of a marriage and to admit to 
another woman that she hadn't was just unthinkable. "I'll be right back. 
There's everything here, cream, sugar, and the coffee." 

She hurried to her bedroom and quickly changed into the work clothes she had 
worn yesterday when she and Bob had started on the yard work. She knew the 
shorts were just a bit too tight and reached too far up her thighs but they 
were her old favorites and this was one concession she refused to make to 
the change in neighborhoods, they were just too comfortable and too much of 
a habit to give up. Bob had even tried yesterday to make her throw them away 
when she had brought them out to wear but she had absolutely refused. 

"You take me and you take these with me, Bob Benson," she had scolded and he 
had begrudgingly backed down. Sometimes lately, she had begun to think that 
perhaps he was too much of a prude. Good Lord, with the new enlightenment 
society was going through today they had much more to titillate their 
thoughts than her little pet pair of sorts. She knew he wound never 
understand this but somehow it had become a matter of principle with 
her-some kind of vague retention of her individuality that had crept through 
and refused to be destroyed along with the other girlish parts of herself 
that she knew she must sacrifice with this move into the upper classes. 
Well, she vowed, she would never give these up. She gave one quick swipe to 
her hair with the brush and headed back for the living room. 

"There, I told you, just took a second." 

"Well, yes, I can see why," her guest answered with a good-natured twinkle 
in her eye. "I didn't mean anything derogatory by that, Carol, I assure you. 
But you must admit the outfit is a bit skimpy." 

"Yes," she smiled back after a moment when she realized Jean was kidding, 
"But I like them and they're the most comfortable thing I own." 

"Well just don't let the lecher next door see you in them. He'll he over 
before you can count to three." 

"Y-you mean, Mr. Burns?" Carol raised her eyes in innocent surprise as she 
poured herself some coffee. 

"Yes, I do dear. He's better known as "Stud Burns" by the housewives in this 
neighborhood." She said with a slight trace of contempt in her voice. 

"Why you must be joking, Jean!" Carol laughed. "He's old enough to be my 
father." 

"He might be old enough to be your father, my dear," Jean smiled knowingly, 
"but I wouldn't even trust him with his own daughter." 

"I've never heard anything like it. I've only seen him once out the window 
since we've been here and he looks absolutely repulsive." 

"Oh, that he is," her guest admitted. "But he certainly gives it that old 
college try." 

"D-Does he ever succeed?" Carol asked, a tone of amusement in her voice. . 

"I think probably more often than not. You'll see him sneaking around the 
neighborhood just after lunch and disappearing into one house or another 
before you've spent too many weeks here. You can always tell whether he 
succeeds by how long he stays." 

"It seems you've made a habit of plotting out his little affairs," Carol 
said, a slight note of coolness in her voice. She didn't want to get 
involved with gossip on the block and thought the best thing she could do 
would be to cut off this conversation now before it got around to all the 
personalities of the neighborhood. 

"Oh no, Carol, don't get me wrong," Jean said, sensing her thoughts. "I'm 
not the street gossip, but the conversation did seem to get around to your 
next door neighbors and I thought I had better warn you. He'll be around to 
see you too, I can guarantee that." 

Carol though she detected a note of bitterness in her new neighbor's voice 
and wondered if perhaps this wasn't one of the instances where "Stud Burns" 
had succeeded. Something was certainly unusual about the way she talked 
about him and the vindictive things she was saying. She was a pretty woman 
and couldn't be over thirty-five or six. She had taken good care of herself 
and Carol couldn't understand how he would pass her up if he were as 
lecherous as Jean was saying he was. She thought she would probe 
diplomatically just for the fun of it and see what she could find out about 
her personally. 

"H-Has he ever tried anything with you?" Carol asked, lowering her eyes to 
the cup she was fingering thoughtfully in her hands. 

Jean smiled over at her. 

"I knew that question would come in one form or another if we started on the 
subject." she said, pausing for a moment. "Of course, he has. Even if he 
hadn't, I don't think I would admit it for vanity's sake. A woman does have 
her pride, you know." 

When Carol heard the sincerity in the woman's voice she was immediately 
sorry she had even asked the question. It wasn't her business to pry into 
someone else's affairs, particularly someone she hardly knew. 

"Jean, I'm sorry. I should know better. I guess I'm just becoming cynical in 
my old age." 

"My dear," smiled her neighbor, looking directly into her eyes, "I don't 
mean to sound condescending. But at your age I was perhaps the most naive 
thing around. It'll take you awhile to really understand what being cynical 
really is." 

Carol detected a note of sadness in Jean's voice and decided she had carried 
this topic of conversation just a little too far. Her visitor had obviously 
had a bad traumatic experience of some kind with Harry Burns and she wasn't 
certain whether she really wanted to talk all-out it or not. She decided she 
had better change the subject for safety's sake before she got herself 
involved in some morbid story that might take up the rest of the day. She 
had discovered early in life that the first people who always came to see 
you and made friends with you were those who had something to say -usually 
about themselves. But in spite of this initial judgment of Jean, Carol liked 
her. There was something innately sad about her that she couldn't exactly 
put her finger on and it was quite apparent that she wasn't exactly the 
happiest person in the world. 

"Please have some more coffee, won't you?" Carol offered, hoping she would 
take a hint and talk about something else. But Jean seemed determined to 
keep on the subject of personalities and continued talking. 

"I've seen your husband out the window. He seems nice." she said, reaching 
over and pouring her own cup full again. 

"Yes, he is." Carol's eyes sparkled as the subject changed to Bob. She was 
proud of him and didn't mind letting people know about it. "I think so, 
anyway." 

"You're lucky." Jean replied drily. "My husband is a brute of the first 
order." 

Carol was shocked for a moment at the sudden unsolicited disclosure. She had 
just been ready to tell Jean about Bob's new job of which he was so proud 
but Jean's revelation had cut her short. 

"Why, you don't mean that, Jean." she stuttered, not knowing quite how to 
react to her. She decided to lie a little, "You look so happy and settled. I 
don't see how you can say that." 

It was then for the first time that Carol noticed the slight, almost 
indiscernible slur of the woman's words. She had been drinking! A sudden 
feeling of compassion rippled through her. The poor dear! She must be having 
a hard time if she had to resort to alcohol at this time of the morning. She 
looked and spoke so logically when she had come in the house twenty minutes 
ago. While Carol pondered this for a moment, Jean answered the question for 
her. She reached in her purse by the chair and pulled out a small flask. 

"Would you like a small bit of brandy to lace your coffee, Carol? I find it 
helps on these cold days." Jean smiled almost apologetically, as though she 
realized the pity running through Carol's mind. "It's good with coffee." 

"W-Why no thank you. I-I don't drink much," she answered, watching as her 
guest poured almost half the cup full of the dark liquid. "B-But please go 
ahead." 

"I think it shocks you that I'm drinking so early in the morning doesn't 
it?" Jean looked at her, waiting for her confirming answer. 

"W-Well no, no it doesn't. If a person wants to drink in the morning then 
it's their business and no one else's." Carol defended. She had no intention 
of getting into an argument with one of her neighbors in the first few days 
they were here. Particularly over something she knew absolutely nothing 
about. 

"Well, I don't very often do this," Jean's words became slightly more 
slurred as she took a good sip from the cup. "But I saw that Stud Burns 
watching you out of his window yesterday when you were working in the yard 
and thought I had better warn you. He's going to be after your pants, mark 
my words." 

"Jean!" Carol answered, a shocked look crossing over her face. "I don't 
think you should talk like that. What he does is his own business but I'm 
certainly no child, I can take care of myself." 

"You may think so, dear. But mark my words," she repeated again, "he'll 
think of something. I know that lecherous son-of-a-bitch. He'll screw you 
silly someday when you have your guard down and then have it all over the 
town with his big mouth bragging about what a good shag you are. I know 
him." 

"I-Is that what happened with you, Jean?" Carol asked softly. It was obvious 
to her that Jean had been hurt deeply and it had something to do with Harry 
Burns. Otherwise, she wouldn't be talking against him this way to a perfect 
stranger. She could feel nothing but compassion for Jean now and wanted to 
help her in any way she could even if it were nothing more than sympathize 
with her. 

"Is it that obvious?" Her guest said grimly. 

"No, no it isn't," Carol consoled. But you kept talking about him so much I 
couldn't help but wonder." 

"Well, that is what happened to me," Jean said bitterly, taking another long 
sip from the cup. "May I have some more coffee, please?" 

"Do you really think you should? I mean it's all right, but don't you think 
you should wait a little while?" Carol suggested hopefully. 

"No, dear, don't you worry about me. I can take care of myself. I need it if 
I'm going to make it through this fool day. Anyway," she suddenly brightened 
up, "let's get off such an unhappy subject and talk about something else, 
shall we? Tell me something about yourself. We're going to be neighbors for 
a long time, I hope, so let's get the silly little formalities out of the 
way." 

Carol was more than glad for the chance to get on to something else as it 
was too apparent that her neighbor was on an extremely touchy subject and 
she didn't want any emotional outbursts in her home from her very first 
visitor. She had enough things to worry about as it was in getting 
themselves established here without becoming the shoulder that all could cry 
on whenever they happened to have a problem of some kind. From that point on 
it was all small talk on the subjects that women usually discuss under such 
circumstances. She told Jean about Bob's new job and how happy they were 
that he had been given the chance to prove himself so quickly with the bank. 
Not that she hadn't expected it with the educational background Bob had 
built up, but she had to admit the good things of life were coming to them a 
little faster than she had really expected. In fact, she was afraid at one 
point that she was letting her exuberance about her husband run away with 
her and just knew she was boring Jean to death, but she seemed to he 
interested and even asked more questions when Carol would stop on one 
particular subject. Finally, she even let her talk her into one drink with 
her coffee and had to admit the cognac did taste good going down. It seemed 
to make Jean feel a little more at home also and she began to let her hair 
down in a more pleasant sense and before Carol knew it she had looked at her 
watch and it was almost time for Bob to be coming home for lunch. 

"Oh dear," she muttered in sudden apology, "Bob's due home in ten minutes 
and I haven't even started lunch yet! You'll just have to excuse me, Jean, I 
don't know where the time has gone." 

"You're lucky to have someone who cares enough to come home for lunch. I 
hope it lasts many more happy years," she suddenly reverted back to the 
sadness that had occurred earlier. "I'll drink up and be on my way." 

"Oh Jean," Carol smiled at her warmly, "I'm just so sorry. I was enjoying 
our conversation so much I just lost complete track of the morning. We'll 
have to do this again soon." 

"Yes, dear, we will." Jean smiled in understanding as she rose to leave. The 
alcohol was having an appreciable effect on her walking and Carol found 
herself reaching out automatically to steady her as she held the door for 
her to pass. She wanted to offer to walk her home but knew that Jean would 
take offense. 

"Thank you so much for coming over," she said instead. "I'm glad we've had 
the chance to get to know each other." 

"I am too, Carol," Jean said turning slowly back toward her. "And remember 
what I told you earlier about that bastard next door. I still mean it." 

Carol didn't reply and watched a shadowed wrinkle cross over Jean's brow as 
though she were almost going to cry. Then, turning slowly back toward the 
steps, she made her way dejectedly to the street. Carol closed the door 
softly behind her, a sudden sense of strange foreboding crossing over her 
mind. What on earth had that man next door done to her to make her so bitter 
and angry with the world? Well, she shrugged her shoulders quizzically, 
whatever it was there was nothing she could do about it and the last thing 
in the world she wanted to become involved in right off the bat was a 
neighborhood feud. That was the surest way she could think of to make one's 
self unwelcome fast and it certainly wouldn't ingratiate her with her 
husband. He needed all the social help he could get with his new job and she 
intended to do all in her power to see that he got it. 

Bob finished tying his tie and poured himself another martini from the 
pitcher he had prepared earlier. He had measured it out carefully to make 
certain that there were only two, remembering faithfully old Jordan's words 
about two being the absolute limit for a banker before dinner. 

"Dims the mind, son," he had warned, "and a banker needs his brain working 
all the time. Never know when a deal is going to come up at one of these 
parties and you've got to be prepared to assess it on a moment's notice. At 
least the basics of it. Clients don't keep their faith in bankers that can't 
give 'em a snap judgment on something they should know about. Remember that, 
Bob, and you'll be taking over for me one of these days." 

He knew he would have to have a couple more with the Burns before they 
started eating but tonight was kind of a special occasion and it might calm 
his nerves a bit. It wasn't every day that an important man like Burns 
walked into the President's office and told him outright that he had been 
impressed with his new neighbor and wanted to shift all of his investment 
account to their bank to be handled personally by him. He had left a message 
with Mr. Jordan that he and his wife were invited to dinner tonight to have 
a preliminary discussion about the mechanics of the change and also to get 
to know the man who would be handling all his money a little better. It was 
going to be an important night for his future and Bob knew it. He also had 
to make up for that abrupt meeting with Burns yesterday. He had no idea that 
he had that much money and could be so important in the community. He seemed 
to be a crude loudmouth type that Bob could not stand. 

Well, he had put up with all types and kept them happy for the last five 
years with the bank so this one should be no problem. He hadn't really given 
him a chance yesterday anyway so he might not be too bad. At any rate, he 
thought dryly, he had no choice. He would just have to put up with whatever 
came his way. That was part of being a success in business and he couldn't 
afford not to succeed now. Particularly with the debts they had run up in 
buying this place. He would be in hock to his own bank for the rest of his 
life. They had sounded as though they were giving it to them when Jordan had 
first spoken about it but he should have known that banks never give 
anything away. 

He was sorry that Carol had made plans earlier to go to her mother's for 
several days. She would have been quite an asset in dealing with both of 
them. Now he would have to carry the conversation with two of them which put 
him at a definite disadvantage. He had tried to talk her out of going but 
she gave him one excuse or another each time he brought the subject up. This 
was not like her and she had even seemed upset when he had come home with 
the good news about the new account. In fact, he couldn't remember seeing 
her this concerned about anything in a long time. True, they had both agreed 
they wouldn't get involved with any of their neighbors socially until they 
had a chance to make a judgment on whether or not they would like them for 
long-term friends but this was different. He had tried to explain that it 
was just part of his job and that once the account was in his hands they 
wouldn't be obligated to the Burns but she had sensed that wasn't true. 
Burns could still change his account back to his old bank anytime he wanted 
to and if he did that old man Jordan might lose the faith he had built up in 
his young protg. He knew only too well that with this loss of faith would 
go all the things he had built up up during the last five years. He had 
explained it to her thoroughly on the way to the airport just a short while 
ago. 

In fact, they had had quite an argument. He had said a few things that he 
was sorry about now such as his comment on her shorts again and about how 
she didn't seem at all interested in helping him succeed. First, wearing 
those things around the yard would make the neighbors think she was a 
low-class slut of some kind and now she wouldn't even delay her trip for one 
day so that he could impress the Burns. She bad for some unknown reason 
burst into tears when he had chastised her so much and he had been forced to 
change his tone a bit to soothe her before they reached the terminal 
building. She left a bit happier after he had done this but it still didn't 
justify anything in his own mind. She was letting him down and that was 
that. She may have had many reasons such as the strain of moving or 
whatever, but still, he was going through the same thing and he was willing 
to push himself beyond the way he felt. 

Why wouldn't she? He just didn't understand. Well, when she got back they 
could talk about it and patch things up. 

Bob took the last gulp from his almost empty martini glass and headed for 
the Burns'. In spite of his little spat with Carol this afternoon he still 
felt on top of the world. He was going to get that account and prove himself 
to Jordan if it was the last thing he did. That should show Carol he could 
do it even without her help. Damn women, anyway! 

Carol laid her head back against the seat and listened to the swift rush of 
air outside against the smooth metallic skin of the jet that was sweeping 
her home toward Chicago. It had been almost two hours since they had left 
the airport in Los Angeles and she was just beginning to recover her 
composure from the fight she had had with Bob. She just hadn't believed it 
when he had come home shortly after Jean had left and told her with all his 
boyish enthusiasm about the visit Mr. Jordan had received from Harry Burns 
that morning. 

God, the nerve of that man! 

She had found herself almost blurting out, without thinking, all the things 
that her early morning visitor had told her about Burns but Bob had kept 
cutting her off with his speculations on what this would do for his career 
with the bank and how impressed his boss had been with the sudden results he 
was getting in his new position. 

Finally, after much bickering, she had just given up and has said nothing 
more than she could not possibly cancel her trip at such a late date. She 
had lied that her mother had called that morning and told her about all the 
things she had arranged for her homecoming with friends and this sort of 
thing. As she had expected, he had not understood and had almost thrown a 
temper tantrum right in their bedroom. 

Perhaps, she tried to rationalize, he had reason for it. It was important to 
both of them for their future and for the children they were planning on 
having next year as soon as Bob was settled and secure and they were certain 
they would have no more financial problems. And, he didn't know about the 
things Jean had told her and probably wouldn't have believed them anyway 
even if he had stopped for a moment to listen to her side of the argument. 
She had had a little more time now since the plane had been in the air, to 
think more dearly and recover from the shock of the sudden disclosure of 
Harry Burns' visit to Bob. And perhaps Jean had been wrong. Perhaps there 
was something psychologically wrong with her that made her fabricate these 
things about Harry Burns and possibly other people too. After all, Carol had 
no way of knowing just how reliable a person Jean really was. She had just 
met her that morning, and aside from the fact that she seemed so sincere and 
hurt in what she was saying, it just might not be true. Yet it wasn't 
possible that anyone would tell stories like that without some basis in fact 
unless they were mentally deranged. 

That just didn't seem possible in this case! 

Jean appeared so logical in all the other respects that it just could not be 
the answer. True, she had had quite a bit to drink but not enough to cause 
her to go off on a tantrum like that. No, there was something to it. There 
just must be and no amount of success Bob could have in the world could 
justify her having to defend herself from a man like that. It was just 
asking too much. She would just have to make Bob listen when she returned 
home in a few days and maybe he could explain it to Mr. Jordan. He seemed as 
though he would understand if Bob didn't call her childish again and refuse 
to hear her side of it. 

Carol fluffed up her pillow on the back of the seat and closed her eyes to 
get some sleep. She would have more of a chance to think things over and 
perhaps make some sense out of this sudden change of circumstances that had, 
without warning, shadowed her happiness. A slight shiver of revulsion passed 
through her body as she thought of the ruddy-faced man next door and his 
hands reaching out unimpeded toward her body. Sleep came a few minutes 
later, driving the horrible lewd thoughts of Harry Burns, her neighbor, 
away. 

"Well, Bob boy, I think the program you've been laying out for me the last 
few hours should work pretty well. As Jordan explained to you, I haven't 
been too happy with the service this smaller bank has been giving me. 
They're just too conservative in their investment policy and I think a 
younger man with new ideas like yourself can help increase my returns on 
money invested by a great deal. Let's drink to a change as soon as I can get 
my affairs in order." 

Bob, following the lead of Harry Burns, raised his glass of Champagne in 
toast. He smiled over at the older man's wife as she toasted also, and 
tipped the glass to his lips. 

Boy, he had it made now, he thought happily to himself. He had spent the 
last two hours at their house and then dinner at Savatini's on the beach 
explaining the program he envisioned for changing the investment direction 
of his stock portfolio. He obviously had made quite an impression on Burns 
and his wife as they had spent most of the evening listening to him. Burns 
had really surprised him. He wasn't quite the hick Bob had thought when he 
had first talked to him yesterday in the driveway. Crude perhaps, but a hick 
he wasn't. He had punctuated Bob's rather complicated explanation of why, at 
this particular time, it was better to have some of his investment in growth 
rather than income stock with some sharp observations and suggestions. Some 
of the suggestions, Bob had to admit, were sound improvements over the plan 
he had personally worked out this afternoon. Of course, it was only a quick 
preliminary study, which he had made clear to Burns at the beginning of the 
evening, and he probably would modify it over the next few days as he 
received more information on the exact objectives he was to work toward. 
Some investors wanted to purchase stock that would not pay them much money 
immediately but over the long period they would gain more. Others wanted a 
short-term type of stock that paid high dividends to its shareholders. Burns 
seemed to have a lot of excess money that he didn't need for living 
purposes, so didn't need a short term investment. He could let his money 
pile up in a growth stock which would save him income tax at present and he 
could use the profit later when he retired. 

"Bob, you're marvelous," Marsha said, "This is what Harry needs to get him 
out of that rut he's been in with that bank. I'm sure you'll do wonders for 
him." 

"Why thank you, Mrs. Burns," Bob beamed. She hadn't said too much this 
evening aside from the usual social amenities that were necessary and had 
let them go about their business without interruption. But, it was easy to 
see who would make the difference in whether Harry Burns transferred his 
account or not. Damn Carol, he thought, she could have turned her charm on 
Mrs. Burns while he had been working her husband over if she had been here. 

"Please call me, Marsha. It looks as though we're going to be neighbors for 
a long time so we may as well end the formalities right now." 

"That's the best idea I've heard in a month of Sundays," her husband chimed 
in, a slight red flush of alcohol covering his cheeks. "We've had enough of 
business for one night. Waiter, bring us another bottle of Champagne-and 
make it good and cold. When I want to drink, I want to drink." 

Under normal circumstances Bob would have been embarrassed by the loud voice 
booming through the dinner club but Burns seemed to be well known here and 
no one seemed to mind. Besides, he was still flushed from the excitement of 
landing an account this size. There were some larger ones in the bank but 
not many from a private individual. 

"When do you think, Harry, that you can get your affairs in order with the 
other bank to make the transfer?" 

He wasn't worried about it but it seemed a good thing to bring up at this 
point. He did have to make the appropriate plans for the re-investment of 
the money as quickly as possible. A loss of one day could sometimes lose a 
man with this kind of account a lot of money. 

"Oh, don't worry about that right now. We can take care of it by next week 
sometime. You've made the deal, son, so relax and enjoy yourself." 

"Now, don't misunderstand me, Harry," Bob corrected quickly. "I just want to 
make certain I'm prepared with the proper information when you make the 
transfer." 

"I'd get it in writing as quickly as possible if I were you, Bob," chimed in 
Marsha. "He's been known to change his mind before." 

"Listen you two. We're out to have a good time tonight. Bob's got the deal 
as soon as I can study over his proposal and that's that, so knock it off. 
Let's eat, drink and be merry as the saying goes. Why don't you two take a 
turn around the dance floor? We shouldn't let that good music go to waste." 

"I would love to," smiled his wife as she rose from her seat. "I'm sure I 
won't have to worry about my toes, like with you, dear." 

Bob led her out to the dance floor where the small combo was playing one of 
the quiet old favorites. Marsha took him by surprise when she curled herself 
warmly into his arms, making certain he could feel the sharp, full tips of 
her breasts pushing tautly into his chest. He had felt all evening that even 
though she had not said much during the business conversation, she had had 
her eye on him. He had tried to ignore it but had somehow felt her eyes 
almost penetrating through him even when he wasn't looking at her. She was 
really built and not more than a few years older than he himself and right 
now with the way she was pushing herself into him he had the feeling that he 
had better be careful. He couldn't let a deal like this be ruined by some 
stupid action on his part now. He tried to pull back a little, worried that 
Burns was watching them from the table. He had never experienced a problem 
like this before with a client's wife and wasn't exactly certain how he 
should react. He knew he had to please them both, but by pleasing her he 
might just offend Burns and destroy his chances of getting this new account. 

"Don't be afraid, Bob," Burns wife whispered warmly into his ear, "I won't 
bite you." 

Bob's face flushed in the dimness of the dance floor as he felt her push 
forward harder, spreading her legs slightly so that the mound of her crotch 
rubbed hard against the top of his thigh. The soft silkiness of the dress 
seemed to hide nothing from his senses and he could feel the resilient flesh 
of her right thigh pressing tightly between his own legs as they moved 
slowly in time to the music. She had made the contact with the softness of 
his penis, and breathing wetly up into his ear, ground her leg slowly and 
methodically against it. 

"Surprise you?" she whispered as she felt the first slight stirrings of his 
rod beneath the pants. 

"W-We shouldn't be dancing this close together, Mrs. Burns. I-It doesn't 
look too good and Harry might see us," was all he could manage in return. 

"Oh Harry won't know, my dear boy. He's tied up with that Champagne bottle 
as usual and doesn't suspect a thing. You know I'm the one who suggested he 
change his account. I've seen you out the window for the last several days 
and just had to work someway to get together with you." 

"B-But I'm a married man," he stammered in a whisper. "A-And you're married, 
too." 

"That always makes it that much more exciting. Don't you think?" 

Bob suddenly lost his tongue. He was so surprised by the sudden and brazen 
revelation of Mrs. Burns' interest in him that the words just wouldn't come. 
He just couldn't believe that she was the one who had set this up and 
brought about the change of the account. It just didn't seem possible that 
anyone would want to shift that much money around with the attendant risks 
it involved in losses for such a simple reason. Was she crazy? 

"Harry does anything I say, Bob. And I mean anything. If we play it right we 
can have that account in your hands within a matter of days. It'll make you 
a big man at the bank." 

As she spoke she still ground softly forward with her thigh and gave a low 
throaty laugh as she felt him involuntarily hardening from the teasing 
motion. 

"You do like it, don't you?" she breathed through Bob's stunned silence. 

Before he could answer the music stopped and the combo leader announced it 
was time for intermission. Bob was happy to see it come. He was in such a 
state of shock he still hadn't determined if she was kidding or not. But, 
she just had to be. Things like this didn't happen so suddenly. This woman 
had to be mad! 

"You two looked like a couple of real love birds out there. The sexiest two 
on the floor." Harry Burns chortled as they sat down at the table. "Too bad 
your little gal couldn't make it tonight, Bob. We'd shown you two how it 
should be done." 

Marsha Burns nodded slightly to her husband behind Bob's back as he assisted 
her to her seat signaling that the stage was set. She knew there was no 
turning back for the young neighbor now. He would do anything for that 
account and she had made certain he was aware of the fact that to get it he 
had to please her. She would make certain that she was hard to please. She 
smiled an inward satisfied smile to herself and lifted the cool Champagne to 
her lips. Yes, she was going to enjoy playing mama this evening as soon as 
Harry made his excuse to get out of the way. A slight tinge of anticipation 
rippled between her thighs as she pictured him naked before her. 

"Marsha is an excellent dancer." Bob blushed at Burns' observation of the 
way he had been dancing with his wife. 

"Nice body too, eh?" Burns smiled at him, raising his eyebrows. "Used to be 
the best in Vegas. Not too many years ago either." 

Bob flushed again but Marsha Burns, sensing his embarrassment, came to his 
rescue. 

"Don't mind Harry. He gets carried away now and then with his modern 
thinking. You'd better watch that sweet little wife of yours when she gets 
back. He likes to think of himself as the reincarnation of Romeo himself." 

Bob winced slightly at the mention of Carol in that vein but ignored it. All 
he had to do was get this account and they would be set. She didn't have to 
become involved with these people at all and the way things had suddenly 
changed in the last few minutes, he wasn't certain he would want her to be. 
Of course, if she had been here, perhaps he wouldn't have been in the 
position he was in now. She could have been keeping Marsha occupied. 

"I think Harry looks like he could handle himself pretty well with the 
women," Bob said diplomatically, smiling as though he appreciated the joke 
Marsha had made about her husband and Carol. 

"Telephone for you, Mr. Burns," the waiter interrupted out of nowhere. Bob 
had been so engrossed in his thoughts about their remarks that he hadn't 
even noticed him approach the table. 

"Be right back, you two. No rubbing knees under the table while I'm gone," 
he laughed as he followed the waiter out to the lounge. 

"You'll have to excuse Harry." Marsha apologized. "He can be pretty raw 
sometimes. But he does mean well, so pay no attention to him." 

"I think he's delightful, Marsha. And of course I don't take him seriously 
when he talks that way." 

"But, my dear boy, you'd better be taking me seriously," she grinned a 
secretive grin at him across the table. "I mean what I say and I'm going to 
get you as quickly as we get the chance. I'm difficult to control when I get 
something on my mind." 

"Marsha, you've got to be kidding." he answered. "Just suppose we were to do 
something and Harry found out. That's a fine start for a man to make in his 
new job. Why, I'd be fired tomorrow." 

"I can handle Harry, my love," she smiled back at him. "You just handle me." 

Bob looked up to see Harry approaching across the dance floor. He was 
relieved to see him come back and put an end to this play of words. It was a 
dangerous game, he knew that, and one that he knew absolutely nothing about 
except that anyone with ambition in the banking business had better stay 
away from it. 

"Well, sorry, kids, but I just heard from the office in Ventura. We've had a 
robbery and one of the night men's been shot. I've got to get up there right 
away," He spoke quickly without sitting down. "You two stay here and have a 
good time. I'll drive on up from here and you can take a cab home. Sorry, 
Bob, but guess you'll have to see Marsha home for me." 

Bob's mouth dropped. He knew what taking care of Marsha was going to involve 
but was struck so suddenly by the realization that they were going to be 
left alone there was no protest he could make. He sat almost stunned for the 
moment and raised his hand in a weak "goodbye" to Harry Burns as he turned 
from the table to leave. He watched him disappear through the crowd and 
suddenly felt like a helpless trapped animal cornered by the hunter. Her 
voice singing softly across the table brought him abruptly back to reality. 

"Someone up there is answering all my prayers today. Don't you think so?" 

"Marsha, we can't do anything tonight. What if Harry comes back 
unexpectedly?" he said in an almost pleading tone. 

"Dear, he won't be back until tomorrow and your wife's away. What better 
chance will we ever have." 

"No," Bob refused, an obstinate tone in his voice. "We just can't do it and 
that's final. I could never face Harry or Carol again if we did." 

"My dear, order us a couple of double glasses of Scotch and then let's talk 
about the morality of it. Shall we?" 

He mechanically did her bidding and sat in silence as the waiter disappeared 
into the bar and returned a few seconds later with the drinks. Marsha said 
nothing but just sat across from him with a faint confident smile on her 
lips. She had been through this before and was looking forward to seeing him 
squirm later on tonight as she really put him through the paces. She would 
make it a screw he would never forget, she vowed to herself. It wasn't often 
she got the chance to really break someone in who was this young and naive. 
In fact, she mused to herself, she had almost forgotten such innocence still 
existed. Even though there was not much difference in their ages, they were 
a world apart in experience. 

"Well, here's to us and our getting to know each other better before the 
night's over." Marsha tipped her glass to her lips and took a large, deep 
swallow of the light, smooth liquid, her eyes sparkling at him over the top 
of the glass. 

Bob quickly followed suit. He needed it. Here he was with the chance of a 
lifetime right before him and the success or failure of it depended on this 
damn nymphomaniac sitting in front of him. Damn Carol anyway. If she had 
been here this wouldn't have happened and he wouldn't be sitting here alone 
and at the mercy of Burns' wife. If she had only listened to reason then 
none of this would have happened. He also recalled his parting words to her. 
"Alright, I'll take care of it myself. I don't need your help." This 
statement was forcing him into the position where he had to succeed at 
almost any cost. 

"Another Scotch for your thoughts," Marsha broke the silence, the still 
confident smile playing across her lips. 

Bob tilted his glass up, finishing it and waved to the waiter to bring two 
more. The first one helped to loosen his nerves up a bit, perhaps another 
would give him a better idea how to proceed with this little game. 

"No real thoughts," Bob answered her question after a momentary pause. "I'm 
just wondering what makes me so attractive to a woman like you who could 
just drop her handkerchief and get any man she wants. I'm sure you don't 
have to pay for it." 

"You tend to underrate yourself, Mr. Benson," she smiled coyly. "You're a 
very handsome and desirable man." 

"Well," Bob smiled back, the tension eased slightly by the Scotch. "I must 
be pretty desirable to have a two-hundred-thousand dollar account thrown at 
me like this." 

"I'm not having Harry give you the money, my dear, you're just going to 
invest it for him. There's quite a difference." 

"Is this the way this game of business is played?" he asked dryly, fingering 
the second glass the waiter had arrived with. 

"Perhaps not always, but it's the fun way to play it. Don't you agree?" 

He had to smile at this. It was amazing at how unimportant money became to 
someone who had it. And also, what it really could buy. He had never in his 
entire life thought of people spending it this way. In fact, not even 
spending it, merely using it to best advantage. It was true what she said, 
he wasn't getting any of the money-but he was still being paid. What a come 
down from the lofty thoughts he had had earlier today when he had been 
called in Jordan's office and told that Burns wanted him to handle his 
account because he was impressed with him. 

"Shall we drink up and be on the way home?" Marsha suggested. 

She sensed the break in Bob's resolve not to give in and had for that reason 
allowed him plenty of time to think and ponder over what the loss of a two 
hundred thousand dollar account would mean. She knew she hadn't completed 
the seduction yet but a few more drinks in the intimacy of the basement at 
home and perhaps a few of Harry's more subtle stag movies if they became 
necessary. 

"Yes, let's do," Bob agreed. The second double Scotch had given him more 
courage now and he thought perhaps he could handle her without getting too 
deeply involved. If he couldn't, well, he would just have to see. He had to 
have that account at all costs, but short, he hoped, of prostituting himself 
for it. He knew, without a doubt, that this woman across from him held the 
key to his entire future at the bank. 

The ride back to the neighborhood was agonizing for Bob. Marsha had given 
him the keys to drive and then had snuggled up next to him and teased him 
with her fingers and hands all the way home. He had weakly protested when 
she had unzipped his fly and wormed her hand inside his pants, teasing him 
into hardness. There was no way he could resist in the heavy traffic they 
were going through so had just sat in tortured silence as she stroked and 
fondled him at will. It was obvious she was enjoying his discomfort and kept 
up a steady stream of seductive conversation describing the things she was 
going to do to him when they arrived at the house. 

He had never been so happy in his life as when they pulled up in front of 
the Burns' residence and he could fight her away. He reddened slightly and 
she laughed beside him as he had difficulty in pushing his hardened penis 
back inside his trousers. 

"You could just leave it out," she kidded with a laugh. "It'll save time 
later." 

Bob got out of the car and opened the door for her and, with a guilty look 
at his darkened house next door, followed her into her own house. 

Once they were inside, Marsha led him straight through the living room and 
back to the den, pausing only once to collect a key from a cabinet in the 
hallway. 

"Now, I'm going to show you our little pride and joy." she said with 
excitement "We entertain some of our more select friends here once a month 
or so." 

He followed her silently when she drew back a curtain in the den and 
unlocked a leather-padded door and descended a set of stairs into the 
basement. It led them into a hallway that had two rooms off each side of it. 
They were beautifully decorated with the main item of furniture being a 
large king-sized bed that covered most of the floor space. The walls and 
ceiling were almost all mirrored, with each room otherwise done in varying 
colors. One was red, one was blue, and the other two were done in green and 
yellow respectively. She commented proudly on each as she led him on to a 
larger room at the end of the corridor. It was large and round with curved 
couches lining the walls that looked more like beds because of the width of 
the seats. A bar about fifteen feet long lined one side of the room off to 
the left. Marsha guided him there as Bob's mouth gaped open in wonder at the 
expense that had gone into this place. 

"Now, what for a drink?" she asked, noting with satisfaction that he had 
been deeply impressed so far with their entertainment area. 

"Scotch will do," he answered, his eyes still wandering around the room in 
amazement. 

"No," she smiled, "I've changed my mind. I'm going to give you our little 
party special. You may need an aphrodisiac to keep up with me." 

She walked behind the bar and brought up a bottle filled with a thick green 
liquid. It was labeled 'Pernod'. 

"Pernod?" he asked quizzically. "That's no aphrodisiac. You can buy it 
anywhere." 

"Not this kind, you can't, love. It's the old type they used to drink in 
France during Hemingway's time. It's outlawed now." 

"What's so different about it?" Bob answered with an unconvinced tone in his 
voice. "It looks the same to me." 

"It's made from absinthe which comes from the wormwood tree," she explained 
as she poured out two half glasses and filled them the rest of the way with 
water. "It's against the law everywhere now but Spain and Nassau." 

Bob watched the thick green color slowly change to a milky white as she 
poured the water in. He was fascinated by it and in spite of her terming it 
an aphrodisiac was anxious to try it. 

"There you are," she said, after dropping in several cubes of ice. "Give it 
a try." 

Bob, following Marsha's lead, lifted the glass to his lips and took a small 
experimental sip. It tasted like licorice and was smooth going down. He 
lifted it again and took a larger sip. 

"Like it?" 

"Mmmmm," he answered, "doesn't seem all that potent." 

"It gets you when you least expect it. Never makes you dull and sleepy like 
alcohol, either, just leave a mellow, smooth feeling in you all the time 
you're drinking it. 

"And the aphrodisiac part?" 

"That will come, love, that will come," she smiled, reaching over the bar 
and patting his hand. "Now let me show some of the other wonders of our 
little meeting-place." 

"And just what kind of meeting is this? You've got to admit it's a bit 
unusual for an ordinary social gathering." 

Marsha tightened her grip slightly on his hand and directed a soft, secret 
smile at him. 

"Let's just say it's for a few discreet friends of our that we have over now 
and then. But don't worry about that now. You'll learn a great deal more 
about it later. I'll see to that." 

"They must be quite discreet, I must say," Bob mused aloud to her. 

"Yes," she laughed, "They are. But you still haven't seen it all. Watch 
this." 

She turned to the back of the bar and flicked a small switch on an 
instrument panel. A sliding panel opened directly behind the bar, exposing 
four rows of large twenty-seven inch television screens set next to each 
other. Above each row was a printed sign designating the colors Red, Green, 
Blue and Yellow. 

"Someone likes his TV, I can see." Bob laughed. "But I didn't know we had 
that many channels in town." 

"We don't, pet. It's closed circuit TV. Watch this." 

Marsha flicked the switch labeled red and to Bob's amazed eyes the screen 
sputtered for a few moments and then burst forth in color. The first row of 
screens marked red showed a red bed at different angles. Number one screen 
at the top looked directly down on it from above. Number two screen showed 
it from one side and number three from the other. Number four camera was 
aimed at the foot of the bed about level with it so that it would show the 
feet of anyone lying on it. 

"Recognize it?" she asked. 

"It looks like the red room we were just in a moment ago." Bob answered, a 
surprised tone in his voice. "And a pretty complete view too." 

"You get an 'A' for that little observation. Now watch this." 

She turned a knob beside screen number four and it brought the bed in for a 
close-up. 

"They all have adjustable telescopic lenses that can be controlled from 
here. Not bad, eh?" 

"No, not at all," he whistled, "I'd hate to be a poor guy making love to his 
girl in there. There's not much privacy." 

"That makes it that much more fun when you know someone's watching but you 
can't see them. Now, one more gimmick that we're really proud of. Watch the 
big screen on the opposite wall." 

Marsha pushed another small switch and suddenly the view from screen number 
four was transmitted to the huge movie screen across the room. She played 
with the switches far a few moments, flicking back and forth from the image 
on each of the screens and bringing out any she desired in full blow-up on 
the big screen. 

"Good grief," Bob muttered in disbelief. "How is that set up?" 

"Just like a heavyweight fight in a movie theater. And sometimes," she added 
with a laugh, "the action in those beds gets just about as rough." 

"You don't mean you actually use those thing, do you?" he asked, realizing 
ac he said it, that it was a foolish question. No one spent the fantastic 
amount of money that must have been necessary to build this thing under 
their house for no reason at all. 

"Just when we get bored, my dear," she kidded him. "Here, you make the 
drinks this time. If you're going to be a good neighbor you have to learn 
about these things. I'll take a walk to the little girl's room while you're 
fixing them. I'll use the one in the blue room. Push the blue button and 
I'll show you what I mean about how much fun these can be if you use them 
for the right things. 

She squeezed Bob's hand tightly and disappeared into the corridor toward the 
blue door. He walked slowly around the edge of the bar, almost afraid to 
touch anything after the electronic display he had just seen. He was afraid 
he might accidentally push a wrong button and blow the place sky-high. 

He looked over the switchboard carefully and cautiously pushed the button 
marked blue. While it warmed up he turned to the bar and poured them another 
drink. He added a little more this time, admitting to himself that it did 
have a nice soft effect. He was already feeling light-headed and a "don't 
give a damn feeling" seemed to be spreading over him. In fact, he felt damn 
good. A helluva lot better than he had in a long time, for that matter. He 
added a little water to each of them and testing his with a good substantial 
gulp, turned back to the wall where the row of screens marked blue had come 
on in perfect automatic focus. The whole of the room was visible with the 
bed centered right in the middle of the screen. It was almost a better view 
than being right in the room. He had a completely unimpeded view of the 
whole area. He hated to think how much a set-up like this had cost. It 
staggered the imagination, the amount of work and know-how that had gone 
into setting it up. 

Taking periodic sips from the now familiar absinthe, he began to study the 
switch and dial system. It was so well marked that even a child could 
operate it. He assumed that all one had to do was stand at the bar and tell 
the bartender what one wanted to see. He could zero in on any specific 
action in any room that looked as though it might be interesting. 

But who in the hell did they fill those rooms with? It must be one of those 
neighborhood swap set-ups he had read so much about in the papers recently. 
But God, how did they get away with it without someone who would disapprove 
catching on and turning them in? It wouldn't take more than one puritanical 
neighbor to upset the entire thing. Unless ... they were all part of it. The 
thoughts floating through his mind were suddenly cut short by a voice coming 
from a small speaker over the row of sets tuned in on the blue room. He 
turned and looked in surprise. Marsha was standing at the foot of the bed 
looking directly at him through the TV. She had walked out of the bathroom 
attached to the room while he had been absorbed in his thoughts and begun 
speaking to him over the intercom. 

"Hi, enjoying yourself?" 

He was too surprised to speak. 

"Don't be bashful, just talk. I can hear you over the speaker." 

"Y-Yess, I am surprised," he finally answered after recovering from the 
abrupt shock of seeing her on the screen. 

"Well, don't be," she smiled. "Just go ahead and drink your drink while I 
get more comfortable." 

She looked at him again out of the corner of her eye and added with a slight 
teasing curl on her lip: "You can watch if you want to." 

He looked down at his glass again, embarrassed. He was thinking how stupid 
it was when she was not even near him. How would he feel if she were looking 
him in the eye and saying such things? He drained the glass again for the 
smooth energizing courage it seemed to be giving him. It was odd, but with 
each further sip of the milky white liquid the fears he had been carrying 
since they left the restaurant seemed to be slipping further and further 
away. A strange confidence that he had never possessed before seemed to be 
seeping magically through his blood, so smoothly, that he had hardly noticed 
the change. He marveled at the effect. It just wasn't like alcohol at all. 
There was no deadening of the senses of touch or thought, in fact if 
anything, it intensified them. 

His thoughts returned abruptly to Burns' wife on the screen behind him and 
he turned just in time to see her dropping the simple black cocktail dress 
she had been wearing to the floor. He felt a slight jerk from his prick 
beneath his pants as her body came into view. She was moving slowly, 
allowing the effect she knew it would he having on him to sink in. She knew 
how it should be done to do exactly this. There were no lewd or obscene 
movements on her part and she behaved as though she were in her own 
dressing-room, unaware of his existence. He felt somehow like a peeping Tom 
looking into a window from a secret hiding place in the driveway. 

The lewd thought somehow made her performance more appealing to him. 

He felt another slight jerk under his pants, his prick hardening slightly 
this time as she turned from the camera and bent over to pick up her dress 
from the floor. The full rounded moons of her buttocks came into tantalizing 
view in the camera pointed at the foot of the bed. She couldn't have been 
more than three feet from the lens and it gave him a completely unimpeded 
view of the narrow nylon strip of her panties between her firm full thighs 
that tightened momentarily as she bent over. The panties slipped teasingly 
into the crevice of her buttocks from the pressure of the position and then 
remained bunched up in the hollows as she straightened up again to take the 
dress to a hanger on the wall. He watched her with bated breath now as she 
walked across the room, the cheeks of her buttocks joggling slightly as she 
moved. It was a careful, practiced walk that smacked of the stage though 
imperceptible unless one knew she had worked as a dancer. 

Harry had been right about his wife when he had said she was built. He could 
understand now why they had hired her in Vegas. There was a lithe suppleness 
about her that dripped sex and nothing else. He was certain she had lost 
nothing since that time as her body was still perfection. He was still awed 
by the fact that she seemed so much more mature and worldly than he, though 
it was apparent she was not much older. 

One thing was certain now, he could not back down from her. If she needed it 
badly enough to go this far then he didn't stand a chance in the world of 
getting that account unless he went along with her. Also, damn it, it was as 
much Carol's fault as his. She could have prevented this entire situation if 
she had just delayed her trip home by one day. It hadn't been asking too 
much of her. She deserved his infidelity if that's what it took to make up 
for the job she should have been doing of keeping his client's wife occupied 
with small talk. 

His mind droned on, the cool liquid rationalizing away the defenses he had 
built up earlier at the restaurant with each further sip. He watched Marsha 
more intensely now as she turned back from the wall dressed now only in bra, 
panties, and garter belt. The thin veneer of the stockings she wore shone 
silkily in the not-too-bright light of the room and her black high-heeled 
shoes set them off to good effect. It suddenly occurred to him that he'd 
like to take her like that with the stockings and high heels still on. He 
had never had a woman like that and though he had sometimes tried playfully 
to pull Carol down on the bed while she was undressing, she had always, in 
her best puritanical manner, pushed him away and continued her preparation 
for bed in the bathroom. Come to think of it, he had not seen her that way 
very often. She seemed to have a thing about it that he could not 
understand. She didn't like for him to see her partly dressed or naked. 

He had tried to explain to her that a man needed a little preparation for it 
just as women did and couldn't just crawl in bed and begin to go at it 
without some kind of prior titillation. But God, this Marsha Burns knew 
about these things. She knew what a woman's body was for and he bet she knew 
how to use it in bed, too.-there could be no doubt about that. 

He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped it hurriedly across his 
brow to absorb the tiny beads of perspiration that were beginning to form 
from the tenseness of his body. He quickly poured another drink from the 
bottle he had left standing on the bar and drained half of it before the ice 
even had had time to cool it properly. He needed it now as the erection in 
his pants had risen to almost its full height. The tight restricting 
material of his shorts hurt and he pushed down, allowing it to slip out one 
leg band into the greater looseness of his slacks. It helped for a moment. 

"Bob," he suddenly heard the softness of her voice coming over the speaker 
in front of him. "Bring my drink." 

He jumped slightly from the unexpected sound. almost knocking over his 
glass. He had been too immersed in his thoughts while watching her move on 
the screen to be prepared for the sudden summons. 

"Bob," she repeated softly again. "Are you there?" 

"Y-Yes," he stammered back to her. "I'm bringing it now." 

"Well hurry, it's impolite to keep a woman waiting when she's cold this 
way." 

She pursed her lips softly at him through the distance of the screen and sat 
back slowly on the edge of the bed. Bob flushed for the third time that 
evening as he tried to force his erect cock back into the tightness of his 
shorts. He couldn't walk into the room like this. It was too obvious. After 
a moments struggle, he got it pressed down the best he could and reached 
over and switched the TV sets off. He started hesitantly toward the hallway 
with both drinks in his hand, his courage bolstered by the strangeness of 
the Pernod. No thoughts of resisting remained in his mind now, only the 
hesitancy of his own inexperience, but this self-doubt was fading rapidly. 

His neighbor's wife opened the door for him, staring at him and smiling 
slowly. She was wearing a light nylon robe now that came just to the tops of 
her thighs and it was obvious that she had shed the bra and panties while he 
was bringing the drinks. She had left the garter belt, sheer silk stockings 
and high heels on. The deep cleavage of her breasts showed without 
impediment at the top. 

"Mmmmm," she grinned over the top of her glass she had taken from his hand. 
"You're learning quickly. Just the right amount." 

"I've been practicing on myself," Bob answered raising his glass toward her. 
He suddenly found he didn't feel nervous at all. He felt the beginning of a 
glowing power and self-confidence that he had never experienced before. He 
felt marvelous, as if he had finally found the true strength within himself, 
one that had lain latent during all these years he had been married to 
Carol, all these years that he had catered to her modest, schoolgirl ideas 
about making love. He knew that making love to this woman standing almost 
naked before him was going to change him and perhaps nothing less would ever 
satisfy him again. 

Marsha lowered her eyes for a moment to the bulge at his crotch. She grinned 
again, a bit more forcefully this time. 

"You like me," she said simply, with a twinkle in her eye, "I can tell." 

"You're most observant," he laughed nervously, "I didn't think you'd 
notice." 

"How could I help it? You're quite a man." 

She settled herself on the edge of the bed, leaning hack on both her elbows. 
The softness of the robe rode up over her thighs, exposing the soft silky 
down of her pubic mound at the base of her smooth white belly. She patted 
the bed beside her, indicating for him to sit. 

"Well," she said after he had settled himself, "tell me something about 
yourself. You know, I really know very little a!-out you-or your wife." 

Bob was taken aback for a moment. What was there to say about himself or 
Carol either, for that matter? But before he had recovered from the surprise 
question enough to answer, she said: "No, it isn't really important now. We 
can talk about that later when we get to know each other better. Do you like 
the Pernod?" 

"It makes me less inhibited. I will say that," he kidded, reaching over with 
one hand and tracing small tiny circles with the sharpness of his nails over 
the whiteness of her stomach. 

Marsha shivered for a moment at the first contact of his fingers against the 
softness of her flesh. 

"Mmmm, it makes you braver, too. At first tonight, I didn't know if you were 
going to get in bed with me or not." 

"That was a hundred years ago, I think," he smiled over to her, feeling a 
slight flush from the drinks. "Shall I get us another drink?" 

"There's some in the cabinet," she pointed to the corner of the room. "We've 
got all the services, including automatic ice machine." 

Bob rose, taking her glass from her hand and glanced down at the thin 
hair-lined lips of her vagina clearly visible between her slightly parted 
legs. He did not blush this time and a pleased smile crossed over his face 
as she opened them a little more, a teasing grin lining her lips. He could 
see that she was excited. The first tiny dewdrops of moisture rising between 
her legs were faintly visible glistening in the tight narrow slit as she 
exposed herself to him. He hurried with the drinks this time, the heat in 
his own body rising rapidly. 

When he returned to the side of the bed with the drinks, she had loosened 
the front of the robe, exposing the large full mounds of her breasts, the 
ripe ruby nipples staring up at him wetly. She had moistened them with 
saliva from her tongue so that their pink bud-like tips throbbed slightly 
from the touch of her own fingers against them. 

"God, you're beautiful," he muttered, staring down at her nakedness with the 
drinks in his hands. He could see that her eyes had dilated a little from 
the excitement also. It was all he could do to keep from dropping to his 
knees in front of her and locking his lips to the softness of her flesh at 
that very moment, but he held himself back. He sensed that she needed more. 
She knew what making love was about and wasn't the kind of woman one just 
jumped on top of and rammed it into without preparing her well for it. The 
reward would be well worth the torture of waiting. 

"You're not bad yourself," she smiled up at him smoky, reaching up for the 
drink he offered. "In fact, you're quite a handsome young man." 

"I'm not that young," he defended. "Almost as old as you." 

"Have you had many women? Other than you wife, I mean?" She asked, matter of 
faculty, as though it were a perfectly normal question. 

"Enough," he lied, leaning over her and kissing her lightly on the lips as 
though he had done this kind of thing all his life. 

She pushed him away for a moment. 

"Here, put my drink on the table, darling. I'll spill it." 

He took both of them and placed them by the bed quickly and then leaned over 
her again, pressing his lips tightly down against hers. She reached up, 
curled her arms around and pulled him down on her. One of his legs fell 
tightly between her open thighs. She was surprisingly supple and soft and 
her body was glued into his as though it belonged there. She moved her thigh 
up against his crotch as he ground his lips harshly into her, bringing his 
cock to a painful hardness. He could feel the wetness from the seminal fluid 
seeping from the gland on the hardening tip. It smeared against his leg 
inside his pants until he was certain she could feel the wetness through the 
material. She continued massaging him with a practiced thoroughness until he 
thought the head would explode. It was jerking now as though he would cum at 
the slightest extra pressure and he would, he could feel it building deep in 
his testicles below. He thrust his tongue deep in her mouth as she sucked 
gently on it, nibbling with tiny sharp nips of her teeth that sent chills 
running the length of his spine. He pulled his head away to escape the 
teasing sensation and placed his cheeks against her hair, thinking guiltily 
for a moment of Carol and the shock it would be to her if she could seen him 
now, stretched over the almost nude body of their neighbor's wife. Her 
girlish innocence wouldn't believe it. She just didn't know infidelity 
existed. 

"Is your wife good in bed?" Marsha suddenly whispered into his ear as though 
reading his thoughts. 

"She's too inexperienced," he answered without the slightest shock at her 
name being mentioned at a time like this. Good Lord, he thought wryly, I've 
changed in the last few hours. 

"I'll teach you some things you can take home to her." She promised softly, 
breathing heavily into his ear again. "Let's get naked." 

He realized suddenly that she was quivering beneath him. Her thighs were 
moving against his loins. 

"You want to fuck me, don't you?" She breathed deeper this time. 

"Yes, God yes, I want to." He answered, the lewd words coming from her mouth 
exciting him more. "Then tell me!" 

"I want to fuck you." 

"How?" she groaned beneath him. 

"Deep, deep and hard. I want to fuck you like you've never been fucked 
before." 

"Oh God," she moaned, almost throwing him from her squirming body. "Get you 
clothes off before I die." 

He rose from the bed and began desperately stripping his clothes from his 
body. A slight tinge of self-consciousness came over him as he dropped his 
pants and shorts and stood over her still lying on the bed with his cock 
standing out in naked erection in front of him. She lifted her body slightly 
and squirmed out of the flimsy robe she was wearing, leaving her with 
nothing on but her garter belt and hose. Her black high heels fell to the 
floor with a double thud that sounded almost as a single sound they come so 
close together. She looked up at him standing stark nude above her. Her eyes 
riveted on the penis standing out in the air. She watched the throbbing of 
the blood-filled head for a moment, and said, "I like it. It's going to feel 
good going inside of me and twisting around deep in my cunt. Oh God, I want 
you to screw me with it." 

He lay down on the bed beside her, dragging her over to him with the 
strength of his arms. He moved one hand down to the smoothness of her 
buttocks and cupped them. They were beautifully shaped and sinewy as he had 
expected them to be. Her body was warm and soft against him and she raised 
her face to his, locking her mouth tightly to him as her hand searched down 
between them for the hardness of his penis. He gasped as the coolness of her 
fingers closed around his rigidity. He pressed his head forward and kissed 
her moistly back. Her odor was maddening, a perfume that he didn't 
recognize, but reminded him dimly of the freshness of spring azaleas. Her 
lips were soft and gave before the harsher pressure of his teeth with a 
yielding rubbery softness that sent tiny chills over his skin. She crushed 
the full length of her body against his and ground her pelvis tightly into 
him before suddenly twisting her body and pulling him over on top of her, 
opening her legs wide to take him between them. 

Harry Burns sat at the bar in the "Playpen" with a triumphant grin on his 
face as he concentrated on the row of TV screens marked "Blue." He had 
entered a few moments after Bob had followed his wife into the blue room and 
switched the sets back on. He sipped contentedly from the tall Scotch in 
front of him as he watched the action progressing. 

Damn, he thought, Marsha really knows how to handle herself in the sack! 

He could feel a slight tinge of jealousy overcoming him as he studied her 
face and saw the unmistakable signs he knew so well. This was no put-on act, 
but then, he should know by now that with her it was never put on. She just 
liked to screw and that was that. He switched the set pointed at the foot of 
the bed onto the large screen on the wall to get a better view and turned 
the volume on the small cartridge-type tape recorder in front of him higher. 
He didn't want to miss any of this. He had plans for this tape. It was going 
to get him inside the wife of this bastard getting ready to screw the hell 
out o f Marsha now. He leaned back with the contented thought of those long 
slim legs of his neighbor wrapped tight around him as he shoved his cock 
into her and fucked her within an inch of her life. By God, he'd show her 
what a piece of tail was. She'd never forget it as long as she lived. He 
could feel his own prick hardening at the thought as he turned his attention 
back to the two bodies struggling on the giant screen on the wall across the 
room. Small beads o f sweat began to form on his brow from the excitement he 
always felt when he watched another man fucking his wife. 

Marsha crushed Bob tight to her and ran her hands searchingly down over his 
body, exploring eagerly the secret hollows of all of him. His cock was 
resting hard against her thighs, pressed into the narrow hair-lined slit of 
her cunt. She arched up for a moment levering them both up off the bed with 
the strength of her back and, reaching under her buttocks with both hands, 
pulled her vaginal lips slowly apart giving his penis greater contact with 
the wet sensitive flesh as it lay the full length of the moist gently 
throbbing slit. She relaxed, dropping her body back to the bed, his rigid 
member trapped tightly between her thighs. 

He forced his hands between her shoulders and the mattress and ran them down 
the soft curves of her back and hips. He could feel the raised ridges of her 
spine moving almost imperceptibly as she undulated her body up against him 
in a slow, teasing rhythm. The sinews of her muscles rippled lightly just 
under the thin tan skin indicating a powerful hidden strength in her body. 
The tenseness of the cords in her thighs pressed against the outside of his 
hips. He wondered how they would grip around him later when he had sunk his 
hardness deep inside her. 

"Oh God, you feel nice," she whispered, smashing her lips against him again 
and writhing the flatness of her belly close up against him. Her nails 
trailed across his back, leaving small red welts in their path. He pushed 
his hands farther down beneath her, cupping the fullness of her ass in the 
palms of his hands and pulled her open crotch up tighter against him. He 
moved up and down slowly, insinuating the hardness of his full length up and 
down the widespread split, sensing it grow wetter and wetter with each 
passing second. Her ass began a more desperate rotation up against his loins 
until her legs, without warning, snaked out wide on either side of his body, 
her calves locking against the back of his thighs, pulling him tighter into 
her. 

"Oooh, fuck me now, darling, fuck me now." She moaned into his mouth, her 
eyes clenched tightly shut, her pelvis grinding. 

He started to move but she beat him to it. Her hands came down between them 
and circled around his throbbing cock, guiding it between the lips of her 
hot desire-moistened cunt. Bob groaned above her as he felt her move it up 
and down between her legs, parting the soft silky hair of her vagina with 
the pulsating blood-filled head. They grazed teasingly against it, forcing 
it into a greater hardness until it ached from the excruciating pressure. 

He couldn't hold back another second and flicked his hips forward with a 
sudden cruel thrust that drove it with a flesh-splitting crash into the 
gaping hot mouth of her pussy. 

"Ooooohh," she moaned beneath him as he felt the warm elastic-like sheath 
slip wetly over his sensitive naked flesh. It entered with a slight pop, as 
though she were a virgin being taken for the first time except that it was 
easier and infinitely better because she could control her vaginal muscles 
that way every time he fucked her. And he didn't intend for this to be the 
last time. He was learning, and learning fast, he wasn't going to let this 
get away for long. 

His long, thin cock raced up her cunt to the full depths of her belly, warm 
and tight at first, aching the full length of the rigid member and then 
easier as the wetness of the passage surrounded him, lubricating the way. 

Suddenly, he hit bottom, his balls slapping hard against the rounded cheeks 
of her ass. 

Burns' wife screamed a low, animal-like scream beneath him, twisting 
momentarily to escape the sudden unexpected pain, but he thrust harder, 
screwing his pelvis tighter into her loins so there was no escape for her. 
She was skewered good and he lay for a moment to allow the pain of the 
sudden entry to subside, proud that he could hurt her this way. 

He had gained the upper hand he knew because he had hurt her and she could 
not hurt back in return. 

It was the age-old plight of woman and would always make her subjugated to 
man. He reveled for a moment in the power he possessed over another man's 
wife impaled beneath him and flicked the head again bringing another low 
moan from between her clenched teeth. 

Goddamn, he's fucking her good, Harry Burns mused from his seat at the bar 
as he watched the fleshy hard instrument of his young neighbor disappear to 
the hilt between his wife's widespread thighs. He wondered with a half-cruel 
smile on his face what the kid was going to look like when he saw his own 
wife being fucked within an inch of her life that way by some guy she hardly 
even knew, namely, Harry Burns. An obscene thrill rippled through him at the 
thought and he half wished they would hurry. Marsha might not know it yet 
but she was going to get it again tonight after the kid finished with her. 
In fact, the way he felt now, thinking about ramming it in between those 
long slim legs next door, she was going to get it good. 

Bob ground his pelvis into the squirming flaccid flesh beneath him as she 
strained back under him, arching her loins up at him, lifting them both a 
few inches off the squeaking mattress from the strength of her upward 
thrusts. She moaned ceaselessly beneath his pounding body, opening and 
closing her legs around his hips as she worked up and down in a chanting 
rhythm of intercourse as old as man's world itself. Her mouth gaped open 
wide, her head flailing from side to side on the mattress again and again in 
wild abandon. 

"Oooh God, it's good, it's good! Shove your finger in my ass! Make me 
scream, damn it, make me scream!" she coughed at him in her daze. 

He reached under her between her buttocks as he drove his cock rhythmically 
into the wetness of her cunt. He stretched the crevice of her ass wide, 
searching with the tip of his middle finger for her anus. 

Suddenly he found it. 

A small rivulet of warm moisture was running down the widespread crevice 
from where he could feel his hard rod of flesh sawing into her. It moistened 
the tight puckered little hole, lubricating it slightly and he probed 
experimentally for a moment with the tip of his finger. He pushed hard, 
feeling it give a little, and then suddenly the tight elastic nether ring 
gave way completely and his finger slid in up to the first knuckle joint. 
She jumped forward, almost crawling on her back across the bed to escape the 
first unexpected pain. 

"Aaaahhhh, God it hurts!" 

He thrust again, sinking it to the second knuckle. 

"Oooooohhh! Yessss, yesss! Hurt me! Hurt me more!" 

In spite of the pain, he felt her suddenly begin screwing her buttocks back 
on his finger until it was sunk to the palm of his hand. He jiggled it 
inside, rotating it around in the fleshy depths of her rectum. He could feel 
through the thin wall of flesh separating her two passages the underside of 
his cock sliding in and out of her and began skewering her between them, 
maintaining the same rhythm for both as she groaned on under him. His nail 
caught the flesh momentarily in her asshole scraping her and she jerked, but 
then caught up the rhythm again, opening her legs wide out over the bed to 
give him greater access to the ravishing of her loins. 

Bob could feel his cock growing and expanding inside her until it felt as 
though it were going to burst from the exquisite pleasure building in his 
testicles as they slapped heavily against her buttocks below. It wouldn't be 
long he hoped, he knew he could hold it back. She had to cum soon. He began 
ramming it into her with long hard strokes in time with his finger skewering 
into her asshole to excite her more. 

He could tell she was near completion as she gripped him tight between her 
thighs, opening and closing them around him in time to his long, hard 
thrusts into her. She gurgled beneath him, the sound coming from deep deep 
within her throat as though she had no control over it. He knew she was near 
and he continued his merciless thrusting with all his strength. 

"Oooohhh, fuck it, fuck it hard, hard! Harddddd!" she chanted, mumbling all 
the obscene words that came to her mind and spurring him on with the 
pounding of her heels high on his back. She had jackknifed her legs up 
tight, pressing her knees back hard into her breasts and offering him the 
full opening of her upraised crotch. Her eyes rolled uncontrollably in her 
head, her face contorted and straining for the final explosion so near. 

"I'm cumming," she coughed suddenly, her mouth gaping wide in ecstatic 
abandon. "I'm cumming," she repeated again as though convincing herself. She 
mumbled on incoherently until the sounds coming from her throat were a mass 
of jumbled unintelligible syllables whose meaning was known only to herself. 
She pulled back her thighs tighter until the whole of her stretched pink 
vaginal slit was presented up to him to batter and use as he willed. Her 
ankles locked over his shoulders, her crotch squirming beneath him in a wild 
uninhibited dance of abandoned ecstasy. Her mouth hung open wide, unseeing 
eyes gazed wide at the ceiling. 

Jesus, look at her go, Harry Burns grinned in lewd excitement as he watched 
his wife racing for the final climax under the wildly fucking body o f his 
neighbor. 

A low banshee style scream suddenly formed on the edges of her lips and then 
pierced through the sounds of the squeaking springs and the two panting 
bodies slapping brutally together. Burns' wife's nostrils flared wide and 
she screwed herself up on his thrusting cock and locked herself to him with 
all the strength of the thighs while her loins jerked spasmodically against 
his belly. 

She held her breath for an interminable moment and then expelled it as 
though hit in the stomach by a solid fist, her body collapsing limply down 
into the mattress. She lay still, except for the uncontrollable quivering of 
her pussy still locked tightly around his tortured prick. He pushed deep 
into and then lay quiet, allowing her to rest for a moment. 

It was all he could do to keep from continuing to screw into her. God, he 
had never in his life seen anything like it. He had never felt anything like 
it either. He throbbed the muscles of his prick deep in her belly, hoping to 
bring her to life again. 

"That was nice," she mumbled. "I haven't had a ride like that in a long 
time." 

"You're not finished yet," Bob gasped down at her, the ache throbbing hotly 
in his balls. 

"God," she murmured in approval, "you held back for a long time." 

"But not much more," he breathed hard, "I'm almost there." 

"Roll over," she smiled sweetly up at him. "I'm going to give you a special 
reward for being so patient." 

He pulled back, sliding his hardness wetly out of the soft warmth of her 
pussy. He hated to pull it out, he was so near to shooting it in her belly 
that he didn't want to stop but he had to let her have her way. It would be 
best the first time until he learned more about making love to her. He had 
never done anything with Carol but get on top of her and after a few quick 
strokes shoot off his load and that was it. She didn't like to play and he 
even had the impression sometimes that she merely tolerated his love-making 
and didn't really enjoy it. Well, maybe he'd learn some things that might 
make her change her tune about things. 

He'd just let his neighbor's wife handle it from now on until he learned a 
little more about really pleasing a woman. 

He reluctantly rolled from the softness of her body over onto his back, thin 
sticky trails of her orgasm following his cock across her lower thigh. He 
lay tense with his rigidity pointed straight up at the mirrored ceiling. He 
could see them both reflected in it and followed her movements expectantly 
without having to raise his head and look down at her. 

She turned on her side toward him and, reaching out with her hand, began 
stroking him, sliding the loose flesh up and down in a slow, magical rhythm 
that caused his ache to increase almost beyond endurance. Then she rose to 
her knees and hovered over him on all fours, her face a scant few inches 
from the throbbing moist head of his prick. She held it tightly between both 
hands, stroking it between the flat of her palms in a teasing up and down 
motion that caused his loins to undulate in time to her maddening rhythm. 

Her head dropped slowly toward the hardness of him and suddenly her tongue 
flicked forward, the tip boring teasingly into the wetness of the tiny gland 
on the end. He sucked his breath in from the sudden unexpected contact. 
Chills rippled along the back of his spine, bringing a groan from his lips. 
She brought her mouth down all the way and enclosed the whole of the 
sensitive head in a moist, warm pressure. Her lips tightened like an elastic 
band around it just below the head, trapping it completely inside the warm, 
wet cavern of her mouth. 

"Christ!" he groaned, lifting his head from the bed and staring down at her 
contorted face. The sight of his hard shaft of flesh sunk halfway between 
her ovaled lips increased the sensation a thousand-fold. It was still wet 
from the juices of her orgasm and glistened like the stump of a wet tree 
along the part she had not yet taken between her soft moist lips. She 
massaged the soft resilient skin of his testicles gently with one hand and 
stroked the base of his cock between the thumb and forefinger of the other 
as she began to suck rhythmically up and down. He could feel the softness of 
her tongue twirling maddeningly around it at the apex of the withdrawal, the 
tip flicking magically across the tiny opening of the gland on the end. He 
flexed his buttocks, his head still raised, watching the top of her head 
bobbing up and down below. The sight of her labors made it all the more 
exciting for him. 

Marsha could feel his throbbing reaction and began to suck his prick a 
little harder, the tips of her teeth digging gently into the hard resisting 
flesh, leaving small white trails where they had scraped the blood from 
beneath the surface of the skin. She shifted her position over his thigh 
without disengaging her mouth from his prick and kneeled on all fours 
between his open legs. She reached under his buttocks and cupped them in her 
palms, pulling his loins up tighter to her face. Her tongue swiped around 
and around the growing gland furiously until Bob felt it nearing the 
bursting point as she took almost all of the rigid shaft deep into her 
throat. He was certain she would choke but she continued the maddening 
sucking on and on. 

Great swirls of heat were building deep, deep in his balls as he watched her 
face working above his sweating loins. He could see tiny rivulets of sweat 
rolling in thin droplets from the side of her body as she bucked over him 
like a demon gone mad. The muscles of his stomach tightened until he thought 
they would snap from the pressure as he arched his back up off the bed 
pushing even further between the moistness of her lips. Thin pink ridges of 
flesh pulled out from her mouth, clinging greedily to his thrusting cock. 

He groaned over and over again, his lips working crazily and incoherent 
mutterings spitting from between his clenched teeth. Suddenly, he gasped. 
The moment was here and a low, guttural sound started from somewhere deep in 
his chest as he felt the hot sticky sperm begin its mad dash from the 
sanctity of his balls and begin spewing in hot thin streams into her sucking 
mouth. Her cheeks expanded and hollowed fish-like as she greedily swallowed 
the warm flooding gushes to keep from choking. She went on sucking wildly as 
he emptied him white-hot sperm into the wetness of her mouth. His hands 
tangled cruelly in her hair, holding her head to the throbbing of his loins 
as he pushed his squirting instrument all the way down to her tonsils. She 
coughed sporadically as she swallowed to regain her breath. He moaned his 
last and grunted finally in complete fulfillment. Slowly, his cock deflated 
in her mouth but she continued the gentle sucking, drawing every last tiny 
drop of the warm sticky sperm from his battered cock. 

And then-there was nothing else. 

She had sucked him dry and with a groan he collapsed, arms widespread, back 
across the bed. She nibbled gently at him for awhile, her head resting 
softly on his thigh and then crawled up over his body to cradle his head 
against her still heaving breasts. She bent down and kissed him full on the 
lips. 

"Like?" she said softly after a moment. 

"Mmmmmm" was all he could muster at that moment, looking up into her eyes 
with an appreciative gleam. 

"I know more." 

"Is there such a thing?" 

"You can find out on Friday. We're having a party I think you'd like." 

"You mean one of those orgy things?" 

"Yes, but a nice one," she smiled. "We only have the best of friends." 

"My wife's coming home." 

"Bring her," Marsha said matter-of-factly. "She might enjoy it." 

"Are you crazy?" Bob gasped suddenly, rising to one elbow. "She would blow 
her stack. Besides," he added as a serious afterthought, "I love her and 
wouldn't want to get her involved in what I think you have going on here." 

"That's selfish. You're getting yours." 

"That's different and don't tell me it isn't." 

"It isn't. But anyway, you can make me an excuse to get out of the house. 
Just drive away, park down the block and walk back. It's simple. Besides, 
you could get twenty more accounts just like Harry's if you got to know 
these people. They all have more than they know what to do with and as I 
said, we know only the best of people." 

"Twenty," Bob coughed incredulously. "That's a lot of money. More than most 
account executives bring in ten years." 

"That would make you a hero at the bank, wouldn't it, love?" she grinned, 
reaching over and squeezing his deflated penis with her fingers. 

"What's wrong," she cooed over at him, "can't take it again?" 

"Not tonight, I've got to go to work in the morning. Also a lot of thinking 
to do." 

"Harry'll change his account tomorrow. You can count on that. But-remember 
all the others." 

"I'll think about it. It'll be tough finding an excuse to get out," he said, 
rising from the bed and pulling on his clothes. "Do I get another turn at 
you?" 

"Don't rush yourself, lover. You'll have quite a choice and just may want to 
change your mind when you see some of them, but we'll find time." 

"How did you get started in something like this? I just can't understand 
it." 

"Curiosity, I guess. But anyway, it's a long involved story that maybe I'll 
tell you about some other time. And incidentally, this sort of thing isn't 
allowed outside the meetings," she grinned, "This is on my own." 

"A cheating wife, huh?" he smiled back as he combed his hair out before the 
mirror. 

"Something like that." 

"Well, show me out of here. I've got to get some sleep." 

Marsha rose and slipped on the thin nylon robe she had torn from her body so 
hurriedly a few minutes ago, and led him out the door and up the stairs. 

A few minutes before, Harry Burns had switched off the TV screens, turned 
off his tape recorder and gone upstairs to their bedroom. He had a satisfied 
grin on his face. If he knew women at all, what he had on this tape was 
going to get sweet little Mrs. Benson flat on her back in a matter of days. 
He slipped from his clothes and crawled in bed to await the arrival of his 
wife. She'd better be ready, he smiled, that little session she put the 
Benson boy through just now had steamed him up until he was ready to 
explode. 

"Goodnight, Bob. That was wonderful. I'm going to expect you to come Friday 
night." 

"Goodnight," he kissed her lightly on the lips, a slight tinge of regret 
rising in his decision to leave and go home. "If I can make the contacts you 
say I can, then how can I miss it?" 

She closed the door behind him as he hurried down the steps and then walked 
quickly back to the bedroom. 

"Brilliant performance, my dear," Harry clapped from his sitting position in 
bed. "For a few minutes there I couldn't tell who was screwing who." 

"Oh, shut up, Harry. I feel like a damn whore seducing that innocent young 
boy like that. I hope you got what you wanted." 

"Don't kid me girl," he smiled at her from the bed. "I didn't see you 
fighting it when he was throwing it to you." 

"Well, no," she answered thoughtfully. "I thought it would be all for 
effect, but you know, he wasn't bad to be so inexperienced." 

"We'll change that soon. With what I have on that tape, we'll have both of 
them turned into the best in the neighborhood in no time at all. Did you get 
a smudge of that lipstick on his shirt?" 

"Yes, dear, I did. But good luck with that sweet young wife of his. She 
doesn't sound like the type who's going to appreciate our kind of 
arrangement." 

"That's the sweet part, love. The harder they are to get, the harder they 
fall, on their backs that is," he laughed. "Now come on and get in between 
these sheets. You've got big daddy all steamed up and ready to go." 

"Okay," Marsha smiled down at him, pulling the robe from her shoulders for 
the second time tonight. "I can stand a little dessert." 

Carol sat dejectedly on the living room couch staring thoughtfully into a 
martini glass. Her head whirled from the second one she had drunk since 
returning from her visit to Jean across the street. She hadn't intended to 
go over and encourage the friendship, but with the way things had gone 
between her and Bob since her return from her mother's, she just had to get 
out of the house and talk to someone. Jean hadn't helped much. All they had 
done was sip on coffee and cognac the entire hour she was there. 

She had become lightheaded from her inexperience in drinking and had started 
several times to tell her about the strange change that had come over her 
husband the last few days, but each time had caught herself and stopped. It 
was too embarrassing. Just how did one go about telling a new friend that 
she had found lipstick on her husband's shirt when she had sent the clothes 
to the laundry the other day? Even if she had known Jean for years it would 
have been difficult enough to confide that much in her but a friend of one 
week was just impossible. She had felt so low and miserable that she just 
had to talk to someone though and had put up with the small talk for an hour 
and then made her excuses to leave. She did find that the cognac had helped 
to cheer her up, even if only superficially, and had mixed up a pitcher of 
martinis when she had arrived home to keep the glow going. 

Perhaps it had been a mistake, she thought, as she felt them taking hold but 
she needed it. Damn it, if Bob couldn't take her to his business cocktail 
parties with him then she could stay home and get smashed. She felt like it 
tonight and that's just what she was going to do. 

She just couldn't understand this party he had to go to. He had been so 
evasive about it and wouldn't even tell her where it was. He had just told 
her not to wait up for him and left. Of course, she hadn't made much of a 
fuss about it. Her pride wouldn't let her. She had not said anything to him 
about the shirt either. She just didn't know how to go about it after being 
so happily married to him for the past three years and then all of a sudden, 
out of nowhere, something like this coming up. It had never happened before 
and she just hadn't been able to get up the courage to approach him with the 
evidence. Of course, she had tried to rationalize it away blaming it on 
everything conceivable such as, he bumped into a girl at the bank, or 
something like that, but it hadn't worked. The seed of suspicion had been 
planted and it had festered in her mind for the last two days. There was 
definitely something wrong but she just couldn't put her finger on it. 

There had been other more subtle changes too. He had tried to do some awful 
things to her last night when they were making love and had tried to make 
her return them. Things she had heard about but didn't really know normal 
people did. They were perverted acts and were things people only whispered 
about in dirty jokes or something like that. He had become angry with her 
when she had refused to let him do those perverse acts to her and angrier 
still when she had refused to do them to him. It wasn't that she hadn't 
tried. God knows she wanted to keep him a happy husband as she thought he 
always had been but she just couldn't force herself to go through with them. 
The thought of that horrible scene in the bedroom when he had tried to push 
her head down under the covers and the coldness with which he had treated 
her afterwards when she had refused to do it brought tears brimming to her 
eyes. She wiped them carefully with the corner of the handkerchief she held 
clenched tightly in her hand and took another heavy gulp of the martini, 
wincing slightly as it burned its way down her throat. 

Still, in spite of all of that, tonight his mysterious party was the 
crowning blow. She wasn't even really convinced that there was a party. He 
had been so non-committal and all about it and had murmured some half-way 
understandable story about it being necessary for his accounts at the bank 
that she had begun to doubt it. He couldn't even tell her what time he would 
be home. In fact, he was so vague about the whole thing, that she had 
convinced herself he was using it just as an excuse to see another woman. 
The one, undoubtedly, he was out with the other night while she was visiting 
her mother. There could just be no other explanation. That was what it had 
to be. 

She finished the last drop of the martini and reached forward for the 
pitcher on the coffee table and poured herself another. 

Her mind ran to another thing also that may have caused his sudden 
indifference but she dismissed it as too silly to even consider. This had 
been his insistence last Monday that she put off her trip to her mother's 
for one day and go out to dinner with him and their next-door neighbor's. He 
had mentioned something about him being one of the most important accounts 
in the country and how much it had meant to him to make a good impression 
but she hadn't been able to forget Jean's warning about that man Burns out 
of her mind. Of course, she hadn't been able to explain that to Bob. He 
would have thought she was absolutely ridiculous, which was probably true, 
but still she was frightened of what Jean had said about him. There was no 
telling what could happen in a closed neighborhood like this if a woman 
weren't careful and if what Jean said were true, which was highly unlikely, 
then she was sure the best thing was to just stay as far away from him as 
possible. She wished she could have made Bob understand this but she 
couldn't. The only thing she could do was insist that she make the trip to 
her mother's which wasn't a good excuse at all, but unfortunately, the only 
one she had. 

Well, she murmured to herself, whatever the reason, it still didn't justify 
that. 

Carol dropped her head into her hands and tears began to brim to the corners 
of her eyes. Things had seemed to be going so well for them with Bob's new 
job and all and now this had to happen. She just couldn't understand it-why 
did the world have to be so terrible sometimes? She had to talk to him about 
it the first thing tomorrow morning or she would go out of her mind. 

Her sobs suddenly ceased abruptly. The doorbell was ringing. Good Lord, she 
thought through the slight daze of the martinis, who could it be at this 
time of the evening? It must be after eight o'clock. Her next thought was of 
Bob. 

Maybe he had changed his mind! 

Maybe he had relented and was coming home to be with her. She pulled the 
robe she had changed into tight around her breasts and almost ran toward the 
door. 

She jerked it open excitedly, hoping with all her heart to see him standing 
there. Her smile suddenly faded. 

It was Harry Burns. 

"Good evening, Mrs. Benson," he bowed slightly, a serious expression on his 
face. "I'd like to talk to you for a minute if I may. It's very important." 

Carol stood struck-dumb for a moment at the sudden surprise and then drew 
the robe tighter around her. 

"C-Can't it wait until tomorrow?" she finally managed to stammer. 

"No, it can't. It's something that concerns the both of us - and," he added 
after a short pause, "your husband and my wife." 

"W-What do you mean by that?" 

"I mean some things have been going on between them that I think you should 
know about." 

"B-But that's impossible," she stammered, her face flushing at the sudden 
revelation. The thought of the lipstick shirt pierced her mind like a bolt 
of lightening. 

"I've got the proof right here," he said, holding up the small tape recorder 
he carried in his hand. "There's just no doubt about it. May I come in for a 
moment and play it for you? It's something you should hear." 

Carol was too shocked by his reference to Bob and his wife to refuse 
anything and let the door slide unresisting from her hand as he pushed past 
her into the hallway. She hesitantly closed it behind him and led him into 
the living room. 

A thought suddenly occurred to her. "How did you get that recording?" she 
asked. 

"By accident," he explained. "I have one of these portable briefcase 
recorders that I use in my business to take down conferences and I left it 
home Monday night when I had to go away unexpectedly. It activates itself 
automatically when someone speaks or makes a noise in a room. That avoids 
the problems of forgetting to turn it on or off." 

"Then, please sit down," she motioned nervously to a chair. 

"May I have one?" he pointed to the still half full pitcher of martinis 
sitting on the coffee table. 

"Yes, but please hurry with what you have. I do have a lot of work to do," 
she said, remembering Jean's warning about him. If it hadn't been for the 
things that had happened the last few days she wouldn't even have let him in 
the door but now she had to hear him out. She was so confused she didn't 
know which way to turn. 

"I think you had better have one too, Mrs. Benson," he suggested. "What I 
have on this recorder isn't going to be easy to hear." 

"No, I don't need one, Mr. Burns," she said, reflecting as cool a tone in 
her voice as she could muster under the circumstances. "I don't know what 
you have, or at least think you have, but I have no reason to doubt the 
fidelity of my husband in the slightest. Now if you'll just go ahead with 
what you have to say, I'll show you the door and I can get back to my work." 

"Well," he gave a half smile, his eyes falling to a knee that protruded 
inadvertently from her robe. "I don't really have anything to say. This 
little baby'll do all the talking." 

Harry Burns patted the recorder in his lap and took a deep sip from the 
martini, letting his eyes wander over the slim, well-rounded body on the 
couch before him. He could see that something was wrong with her and he was 
purposely taking his time. He wanted to enjoy to the fullest the final 
moment when he would switch on the tape and this little innocent, 
hard-to-get bitch would break into a thousand pieces like a delicate Chinese 
vase being smashed to the floor. This was his greatest enjoyment in life. He 
could have all the women he wanted, good women with the money he had. But, 
to take a proud young thing like this and bend her completely to his will, 
that was worthwhile. That gave him his kicks, watching their slow 
subjugation in spite of all the moral values and principles they had built 
up over the whole of their lives. Seeing all that crumble in one mighty 
cataclysmic fall when he rammed his hard cock deep between their wide-spread 
legs, that was a kick that was worth working for and one that couldn't be 
bought. It might take money to set it up as it had now but it was all worth 
that one final humiliating lunge into their pussy that they had taken so 
much pride in protecting all their lives. He would enjoy this one more than 
most. He could see the contempt she held for him in her eyes and nothing 
would please him more than watching it changing slowly to a glassy-eyed 
helpless desire as he ground his cock deep in that white little belly of 
hers. And, he thought greedily, if he could make her beg for it then so much 
the better. Yes, he was going to enjoy this one more than he had most. He 
would make damn certain her husband had a grandstand seat for the 
de-innocentizing too. That would add a lot to the pleasure of ramming it to 
her. 

"Well Mr. Burns, I'm waiting." Carol mustered her courage. She held an 
outward calm now by sheer force of will, but deep inside, her stomach was 
churning like a whirlpool. She just couldn't believe what he had said about 
Bob and his wife was true, and yet, there was fear in her heart that it was. 
His strange actions of the last few days told her something was wrong, and 
yet, she wanted with all her heart and soul for it not to be true. 

There was only one way she could find out. 

"I suggest you take a martini. It isn't going to be pleasant," he urged 
again, "I think it might make it easier for you." 

"Alright," she weakened for a moment, afraid that if what he had said was 
right, she just might go to pieces. "Just a small one." 

He placed the recorder on the table and poured her glass full in spite of 
her request for a small one. 

"You'll need all of it. This gets pretty rough so take your drink and sit 
back against the couch. I don't want you falling off." 

Carol picked up the drink from the table and nervously took a small sip. She 
didn't have the slightest idea what to expect from this. Particularly 
something on a recorder. She held her breath as she watched him lean forward 
and switch the small machine on. 

"I've left out the first part." he explained. "This is what I'm certain 
you'll be most interested in." 

There was nothing for a moment and then she could hear the rustling of 
people moving around in the background along with the standard hums and 
buzzes of all recording machines. There was a long moment when there was 
nothing and then a woman's voice broke through: 

"HAVE YOU HAD MANY WOMEN? OTHER THAN YOUR WIFE, I MEAN." 

"That's Marsha, my wife." Burns said as he intently watched the expression 
on Carol's face. "ENOUGH." 

The familiar voice of her husband came through the speaker. Carol's heart 
stopped. Her face turned pale white. There was a pause and then the female 
voice again followed by Bob's. 

"IS YOUR WIFE GOOD IN BED?" 

"SHE'S TOO INEXPERIENCED." 

Carol sucked in her breath. Her face flushed. Burns reached forward and 
switched the recorder off. Smiling secretly to himself at her husband's 
remark about her sexual capability. That should set her off by itself. 

"Do you believe me now?" he maintained his indignant attitude. 

"Y-Yes, I-I believe they were together. But it still doesn't prove they did 
anything wrong." 

"Take a good strong slug from your drink, girl. You're going to need it." 

Carol needed no coaxing this time. She took half the glass in one quick 
swallow, coughing slightly from the sudden burning in her throat. Burns 
flipped the switch to on. She could hear the sounds of heavy breathing and 
movement on a bed and then Marsha Burns voice: 

"YOU WANT TO FUCK ME, DON'T YOU?" 

YES, GOD YES, I WANT TO." 

There was a slight pause in the voices but the breathing became heavier and 
she could hear a more intense movement on the bed. 

"HOW?" 

"DEEP, DEEP AND HARD, I WANT TO FUCK YOU LIKE YOU'VE NEVER BEEN FUCKED 
BEFORE." 

Bob's voice came through with a guttural passion she had never heard in 
their own love-making. She sat thunder-struck. Her face flushing a bright 
red from the disbelief and humiliation of listening to her own husband 
making love to another man's wife with that man sitting right in front of 
her. 

"OH, GOD, GET YOUR CLOTHES OFF BEFORE I DIE!" 

There was another long delay in the voices as she heard the unmistakable 
sounds of clothes being torn hurriedly from a body. The shrill sound of a 
zipper being undone came through loud and clear. And then, the bed squeaked 
again and the voices returned: 

"OOOOH," a low ecstatic groan came from the speaker, "FUCK ME NOW, DARLING, 
FUCK ME NOW!" 

Harry Burns maintained his outward appearance of indignation as he heard his 
wife moaning in the throes of abandoned intercourse with Carol Benson's 
husband but an inward sadistic satisfaction coursed through him as he 
watched the horrified and helpless expressions crossing over the girl's 
face. He felt his prick jerk slightly under his pants as he saw the robe 
fall farther away from her knee, unnoticed in her state of shock. A small 
portion of her exquisitely formed upper thigh was plainly visible as she sat 
immobile across from him. God, he'd like to grab her now and throw it to her 
right here on the couch while they listened to her husband screwing his own 
wife silly on the recorder. But, he knew women well enough by now to know 
the time wasn't yet ripe. She was still in shock and he had to wait until 
she had recovered and anger had set in. There was nothing a wronged woman 
wouldn't do for revenge against an errant husband no matter how moralistic 
she might be under normal circumstances. He would just bide his time for 
awhile and make certain she had all the opportunity she needed to build up 
her temper. 

"OOOH! GOD IT'S GOOD, SHOVE YOUR FINGER IN MY ASS! HURT ME! HURT ME!" wife 
droned on. 

"AAAAAAHHHG, GOD, IT HURTS!" 

Carol's hands shook almost out of control. She turned the glass up and 
drained the other half of the martini, attempting to blot out the ugly 
pictures forming in her mind of her husband grunting and sweating over the 
woman whose voice moaned from the tape. It didn't help. The pictures formed 
and faded like dirty movies she had heard described in whispers at cocktail 
parties she had attended before marriage. She could even feel the rhythm of 
the two twisting and churning bodies locked together in intercourse on the 
tape. Their gasps and groans coupled with the slight squeaking of the bed 
made it all too clear. Other words came through, ugly, obscene words that 
she had seldom heard spoken before and that she had almost forgotten existed 
in her innocence and protected existence. She heard the woman's cry of 
fulfillment coming through the distance from the coffee table and in her 
immobility made no objection when Harry Burns reached over and filled their 
glasses again with the mixture in the pitcher. She needed it. Without 
waiting, she lifted the glass shakily to her lips and sucked the harsh 
burning gin gratefully down into her throat. She noticed her robe falling 
away from her thighs and started to pull it down but suddenly forgot about 
it as the tape was filled with wild groans of excitement. 

Bob's groans! 

God, what was that woman doing to him? And then she remembered the other 
night when he had tried to push her head down to his genitals. Could that be 
it? Would he dare to let another woman do that to him? Would he expect her 
to do such a disgusting thing to hold him? 

A piercing low scream rippled from Bob's throat signaling his obvious climax 
and Carol flushed again at the crazy thought she found running through her 
mind. It was stupid at a time like this, but she had found herself wondering 
if the woman had taken her mouth away or not when Bob had finished. From the 
soft feminine mewling sounds coming from the recording now she was sure she 
hadn't. 

Harry Burns reached over and flipped the switch turning the recorder off. 

"I think that's enough," he said, a forced tone of anger in his voice. 
"Anyway, it proves my point." 

Carol said nothing. She couldn't speak from the shock she had just gone 
through and just sat there as though in a hypnotic trance. 

Harry rose from his chair and walked over to the couch, sitting down beside 
her. He gently took the glass from her hand to keep her from dropping it and 
placed it on the table. 

"What are we going to do about it?" he said slowly. 

"Oh God, God I don't know." Carol blurted out dropping her head into her 
hands and sobbing like a small child. "I-I just didn't think Bob could ever 
do a thing like that to me." 

Harry watched the whiteness of her smooth, firm, almost completely exposed 
thighs as she blubbered into her hands next to him. Her robe had snaked 
almost up to the "V" of her legs now and he could feel small beads of sweat 
breaking out on his upper lips as he studied the delicious fullness of them. 
It was all he could do to keep from reaching over and pulling her down right 
now. Obscene thoughts of how tight her wet little pussy would be shifted 
through his mind. 

But no, he couldn't spoil it now. He had greater plans and no matter how 
much he would enjoy ramming it up into her soft little belly right this 
minute, the later pleasure of fucking her silly with her husband looking on 
would be even greater. 

He allowed her a few minutes for the initial emotional reaction to wear off 
and then poured her another drink. At the same time, he took a clean white 
handkerchief from his pocket and pushing her head gently up from her hands 
began to dry her eyes. He did it slowly, not wanting to make any sudden move 
that would destroy her confidence in his presence. He knew that damn Jean 
across the street had probably talked to her already about him as she did 
with anyone she could get to listen so he had to be careful in his approach. 
He had seen nothing but contempt in her eyes when he had walked in tonight 
so knew it was going to be a tough row to hoe in gaining her trust. The 
first step had already worked well, and if things went according to plan, it 
wouldn't be long now until he had her just where he wanted her. 

"I-I guess you think I'm an idiot carrying on this way, Mr. Burns," Carol 
managed to stutter after a moment. 

"No, of course not. No one can blame you for being angry after what you've 
just heard. I feel the same way." 

"I know, but I feel so foolish," she said in a hoarse voice from the crying. 
"I was so shocked, I didn't even stop to consider how it must be affecting 
you. After all, it was your wife that he was-was doing it to." 

"Yes, it's been quite a shock to me also," he lied. "You can imagine how I 
felt when I first heard it." 

"W-What are you going to do about it?" Carol asked hesitantly, taking a 
soothing sip from the glass. She could feel her composure returning now that 
the initial shock had worn off and the drinks were giving her a lightheaded 
feeling that was slowly turning her humiliation into a slow, seething anger. 

"Well, I didn't want to do anything until I talked with you. It's a problem 
for both of us." 

Harry Burns spoke smoothly from the long years of sales experience on the 
used car lot. His words came easily and quickly and Carol soon found herself 
nodding in agreement when he spoke. She had forgotten the warnings of Jean 
now and had passed them off as neighborhood gossip, or perhaps even 
jealously. Maybe Harry Burns hadn't made a pass at her after all and this 
was why she was really angry at him. 

"You didn't hear the end of that tape," he continued on. "But they've made 
arrangements to meet at a party at my house tonight. Now if ..." 

"Tonight," Carol blurted out in disbelief. "You mean my husband is at the 
party at your house?" 

"That's right, have you seen the cars over there?" 

"Why yes I have," Carol said, gritting her teeth with fire rising in her 
eyes. "But, I didn't associate it with the party Bob said he was going to. 
He said it was company business." 

"Well, my wife throws some pretty wild ones and she thought she'd have a 
good one while I was off on business. I told her I had to go away when I 
heard the tape so's you and I could decide what to do." 

"I'd like to go to it and just catch them in the act," she said 
vindictively, feeling the anger begin to boil in her blood. 

"Yes, we can do that," Harry said seriously. "Marsha likes to be different 
with each party she gives and tonight she's made everyone wear masks. I took 
the liberty of stealing a couple of the type she was going to pass out at 
the door." 

"But won't they notice two more people there?" she asked, doubts suddenly 
entering her mind. 

"Naw, they've got at least thirty people wandering around the house and 
they'll never notice us. Besides, we've got the basement fixed up into a 
party room where they'll all be and it's almost pitch black anyway." 

"I-I don't know," Carol said hesitantly, "they just might recognize us." 

"Not a chance, these masks are the rubber type, you know, the Brink's 
robbery kind. You couldn't even tell your own mother in one." 

Carol took another heavy sip from the drink, the warm liquid burning courage 
into her bloodstream. She knew this was absolutely crazy, but she just had 
to see for herself. She still couldn't believe that recording. There must be 
a mistake somewhere and she just had to know. She loved Bob with all her 
heart and just couldn't accuse him of such a thing without absolute proof. 

"Alright, I'll do it. But it'll take me a few minutes to get dressed." 

"Well go to it. I'm as anxious as you are to see what's going on. But, one 
thing I should warn you about." He looked at her and spoke with a sincerity 
that made her feel grateful to him for the warning. "These things get rough. 
Dirty movies and all. Do you think you can take it without giving us away? 
They can't under any circumstances know we've been there. It might start a 
row and none of us can stand the scandal." 

The martinis and the anger coursing through her body made Carol throw 
caution to the winds even though something deep inside whispered to her that 
this was a dangerous thing to do. She knew she shouldn't but then the 
thought of the lewd voices wrapped in the throes of passion on the tape 
flickered across her mind again. 

"I can take it," she said with a forced smile. "Give me a minute to get my 
dress on. I bought a new one Tuesday in St. Louis, Bob has never seen it." 

"Here," Harry smiled, pulling a rubbery mask from his pocket and handing it 
to her. "This is your spy suit." 

"I'll hurry, pour yourself another drink, Harry. If I may call you that?" 
she added quickly. 

"Be my guest, Carol," he smiled. 

He watched her walk from the room, pulling the light filmy robe about her 
body. A thin secret smile of triumph played across his lips as he studied 
her soft sensuous buttocks moving away from him. 

Man, he whistled quietly to himself, what a ball you're going to have 
cradling those two little soft white babies in your hands tonight. 

Marsha pressed her thigh tightly against Bob's at the bar in the "Playpen" 
as they watched the straight-laced waiter pouring the guests large drinks of 
the thick green Pernod. Bob mused at the sudden change of color from the 
medium green to a thick milky-white when lie added the water to it. Like a 
lot of us, he thought dryly to himself, changes color with the slightest 
provocation. 

"Impressed with the crowd?" she interrupted Bob's thoughts with an extra 
hard pressure against the side of his thigh. 

"If all these people under the masks are who you say they are then you're 
right about traveling in the best of company." 

"Believe me, they are, but don't you dare let on you know I've told you who 
some of them are. That's breaking the rules for the first part of the 
evening. You're not supposed to have the slightest idea who you are ending 
up with until it's all over." 

"Well, from what I've seen so far, I don't think I can go wrong no matter 
who I grab. I'm just glad these masks don't cover the most important part of 
the package." 

"I think you'll find they're quite talented underneath too." she laughed. 

"Not too talented, I hope. I don't know if I can stand another lesson like I 
received from a certain neighbor the other night." 

"Mmmm," she reached over and pressed his hand. "Wish I could continue that 
lesson right now but hostess duties call. I've got to circulate and make 
certain everything's all right with the guests. You be a good boy and help 
by making a little polite conversation with a gal I'm going to send over. I 
would suggest doing it right too, her husband is loaded and it could be a 
very, very good account." 

"Send her around, I think I can handle anything now," he smiled at her 
through the oval shaped opening in the thin flesh-like mask. 

Bob watched her disappear into the small crowd standing in groups around the 
room. There couldn't have been over twenty or twenty-five people but with 
the dim purple light it looked like more. They almost filled the center of 
the chamber and gave it a close warm look that allayed his earlier fears of 
not fitting into something like this. He raised his glass to his lips 
feeling the now familiar taste of the absinthe drain cool and clear into his 
throat. His mouth was still a little dry from his earlier nervousness and 
the drink was just what he needed. 

He couldn't help but feel a little cocky as he gazed around the dimly lit 
room and compared his own well conditioned body to most of those present. 
Though he couldn't see their faces he could tell by the slight paunches 
extending over the men's belts that they were all in the early middle-age 
stage. It contrasted noticeably with their women. They were for the most 
part much younger and in much better condition than their husbands. 
Evidently, they had all chosen well, much as Harry Burns had done. Money, he 
smiled to himself, can buy anything, even love. Perhaps it wasn't always the 
truest kind in the romantic sense but it was close enough to the real thing 
not to matter that much. Love was only a matter of feeling secure anyway. 
What better way for a young girl to feel secure than with a million dollar 
bank account? 

In the last few days he had just begun to understand this. Old Jordan had 
called him into the office Tuesday and informed him that he had gotten the 
Burns account. It had been a simple statement on his part but Bob could feel 
for the first time since he had come to work for the bank a sudden new-found 
respect the last few days, on the part of not only Jordan but his co-workers 
as well. Suddenly, they all knew who he was and people were greeting him in 
the mornings in the office that had never spoken to him before. Yes, success 
did help and by God, this slight taste of it he had just experienced had 
just whetted his appetite for more. He had heard all his life that it took 
more than just brains and business ability to get along in the financial 
world and it looked as though, thanks to Marsha, he had found out what the 
"more than" was. If he could wangle a few more accounts like this one from 
her husband, he would be on easy street with the bank for the rest of his 
career. It shouldn't take long and if he just watched himself carefully he 
could do it without Carol ever finding out about what he had to do to make 
it. 

"Hello," he heard a soft honeyed voice purr next to him. "Someone let my 
glass run dry." 

"Well, we can't let that happen, now can we," Bob smiled down through the 
mask at the girl who leaned against the bar where Marsha had been a few 
minutes before. He couldn't tell what her face looked like but it didn't 
really matter. From the neck down was all he needed to see. She had all it 
took and the tight knit mini-dress hid little of it. The girl sensed his 
eyes roaming over her body in the dim light and turned slightly to the side 
so that he got a quick glimpse of the profile of the most beautiful pair of 
breasts he had ever seen. Carol had a nice set, he had to admit, but if 
there was ever a pair that might compete with them they were standing out 
right in front of him. 

"Our hostess says I'm to look after you for awhile," she said in the soft 
mellow voice that reminded Bob a little of Lauren Bacall. But there the 
resemblance ended. This girl was built, smallish, but she was built. 

"Under normal circumstances I would tell the hostess that I'm perfectly 
capable of looking after myself," he grinned, "but I doubt seriously if I 
could have improved any on her choice this time." 

"Glad you approve," the girl smiled. "My name's Susan, what's yours?" 

"Bob," he said, purposely omitting the last name as he noticed she had done. 

"That's nice," she smiled again, "It sounds so substantial. I don't like all 
the Rocks, Tabs, and so on people are naming their children these days, 
sounds as though they'll blow away tomorrow." 

"They will, don't worry. Here, have your drink. It's all refreshed." 

"Good, come on over and meet some of the other people. I want to show you 
off even if I can't see all of you yet." 

"Let's go," he said, taking the hand she offered and following her off 
toward a small group on the other side of the room. This was the chance he 
had been waiting for. Marsha had said she would make certain he got the 
biggest ones first and it looked as though he was going to enjoy more than 
just landing this account. He felt slightly guilty for a moment when he 
thought of Carol sitting quietly at home while he played like this, but then 
he had no other choice, not if they were to stay on this side of the tracks 
and meet all the expenses his new job entailed. 

Carol followed close behind Harry Bums as they descended the steps down into 
the basement. She felt kind of silly with the rubber mask covering her face 
but then again was grateful for the anonymity it afforded her. The thin 
rubbery material covered the whole of her facial features and she had put 
her hair back in a long golden pony-tail which was an unusual style for her. 
This, coupled with the new dress she was wearing, should make it impossible 
for Bob or anyone else to recognize her. Harry had been right about the 
effect. She doubted sincerely if even her mother would have known her at 
this minute. 

In spite of the light-headed feeling the martinis had left her with, she 
could still feel a small knot of fear growing in her stomach. There was 
still no way of knowing if this were some kind of trick on the part of Harry 
Burns just to get her over here but she had to see for herself. The lipstick 
on Bob's shirt, plus the recording, were just too much evidence against him 
and if he were here it would take all the will-power she had not to turn 
loose on him and begin berating right in front of all the other guests. At 
any rate, she thought, as she walked alongside Harry Burns down the 
corridor, it's too late now. You've made a bargain with him to see if there 
really is anything going on between his wife and Bob so you'll just have to 
stick it out no matter how bad it becomes. 

"Remember now," Harry whispered over to her as they entered the large 
circular room. "Don't go ogling at people right away to try and find him, we 
have a long time and don't want to give ourselves away." 

"Alright, I won't," she whispered back in promise, her heart beating a mile 
a minute as they walked toward the circular bar along the left wall. 

Carol was amazed just as Bob had been when he had first walked into the 
chamber and her first thought was to turn back toward the door and run but 
the horrible thought of Bob possibly being here strengthened her resolve to 
stick it out no matter how rough it might become. She just had to know for 
her own personal satisfaction if he was playing her for the fool. What she 
would do when she found out, she could decide then, but right now she just 
had to know if it were true. 

"What on earth kind of a party is this?" she whispered to Harry as they 
found a place at the crowded bar. 

"It's a friendly little get together where people drink a lot and forget 
their troubles." He answered back in a low voice, motioning to the bartender 
with two fingers at the same time. "They show stag films and things like 
that to get everyone nice and friendly. Ever seen one?" 

"N-No I haven't," she whispered back, her voice cracking slightly. "A-Are 
they too bad?" 

"Depends on what you call bad," he chuckled softly, handing her one of the 
drinks the bartender placed in front of him. "They get one nice and heated 
up if you like that sort of thing." 

Carol was more than glad she had the mask now as she could feel herself 
blushing at his candid answer to her question. 

"And remember," he added. "I warned you it could get rough so just stay with 
me and don't get panicked when they start the fun and games. We've got to 
look like we're enjoying each other like everyone else so no one will get 
suspicious." 

She watched him raise the glass to his lips and take a deep swallow and did 
the same, glad to have something in her hand to stop her from shaking. She 
was surprised at the first taste of the cool licorice bubbling smoothly down 
her throat. She had expected something that tasted much stronger to be 
served at a party like this. She tipped the glass again, her throat parched 
from her nervousness and the number of martinis she had drunk at home with 
Harry while they had been listening to that horrible recording. 

"Hey," Harry warned, keeping his voice down. "You're really going at it." 

"Mmmm," she mumbled with a full mouth, "It's good. What is it?" 

"Just a light drink," he lied with a slight twinkle in his eye. "But be 
careful, I don't want you to get too out of it. We've got some investigating 
to do. Guess these won't hurt though. Here give me your glass, you finished 
that one like you really needed it." 

Carol passed her glass over to him, feeling the slight lightheadedness she 
had had from the martinis returning. It had almost worn off with her taking 
time out to dress and from the walk over here but now she could feel it 
slowly taking control of her body again. Except ... this time it seemed to 
be different. This drink didn't have the dull slowing effect the martinis 
seemed to have. The glow was there, but otherwise, it didn't seem to dull 
her thinking at all. She liked it and sipped heavily again as Harry Burns 
passed her a new drink. A strange giddiness seemed to pervade throughout her 
whole body as she turned from the bar and looked around the room. She had to 
squint her eyes to see any distance because of the dimness of the light but 
still, she could make out with reasonable clarity, the small groups of 
threes and fours scattered around the floor in idle conversation. She 
strained to see if she could find Bob in any of the groups, but with the 
light the way it was, it was almost impossible. 

"How on earth are we ever going to see if my husband is here if we stay at 
the bar?" She turned to Harry and whispered impatiently in a low tone. 

"Don't you worry," he reached over and patted her arm, warmly this time. 
"We'll run into him sooner or later. We've just got to let nature take its 
course now. So just relax baby, and let's have a few more of these to get us 
in a good fighting mood. 

Carol shivered slightly from the sudden change of tone in his voice and the 
boldness of his touch. Before, he had been almost defensive in his 
conversation with her, the hurt voice of a wronged husband, but now suddenly 
it had changed in a matter of a few moments. She detected a certain 
confidence that suddenly frightened her and for some reason made her feel 
more alone than she had ever felt in her entire life. She turned to her 
glass again for the warmth it had given before and almost hoped now that Bob 
would be here to save her if she had gotten in over her head. Jean's warning 
about Burns going to any length to get her in bed flickered through her mind 
again for a brief moment, but again, she pushed the thought away. He had to 
be sincere, with the recording and all, there could just be no mistake about 
Bob's infidelity to her. 

She was just raising her glass to her lips again when she felt a slight 
pressure on her side away from Harry Burns. She turned to find someone 
pushing against her trying to get at the bar and moved a little toward Harry 
to give him room. 

"Give me two more," a voice behind the mask said. Carol froze. 

It was Bob's voice. After three years of marriage she would recognize it 
under any circumstances. Harry sensed her sudden tensing and slipped his arm 
around her waist pulling her into him. She made no move to resist. The shock 
of hearing Bob's voice in this place had made her totally incapable of 
resistance. She felt the softness of her breasts crushed tightly against 
Harry's chest. 

"What's wrong?" he whispered close in her ear. 

"Shhhh," was all she could manage. Bob was so close to her that she was 
afraid he could hear them whispering back and forth to each other. She stood 
immobile for what seemed an eternity, allowing the softness of her body to 
be squeezed tightly into Harry Burns' chest. She didn't dare breath until 
the moment long minutes later when her husband picked up the drinks the 
bartender brought and carried them back across the room. She watched him out 
of the corner of her eye handing one to a small blonde girl who snaked her 
arm around his waist in a familiar gesture. She couldn't believe her eyes 
when she saw Bob reciprocate, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and 
pulling her close against him. 

Tiny droplets of tears brimmed into the corners of her eyes as she stared 
across the dim room, seeing for the first time with her own eyes, her 
husband holding another woman. She was hardly conscious of Harry Burns 
speaking next to her. 

"Was that him?" 

"Y-Yes, damn him," she managed after a short pause. 

Harry pulled his handkerchief from his pocket for the second time that 
evening and dabbed gently at the corners of her eyes. 

"You'll smear your make-up." 

"I don't care," she replied. "I've never felt so humiliated and hurt in my 
whole life." 

"You'd better care," Harry said, a harsh tone in his voice. "Remember, we've 
got a bargain. We've got to catch them in the act." 

Carol took the handkerchief from his hand and continued dabbing her eyes. 

"Give me another drink, please." she said simply. "I think I need a few." 

"That's a good girl," Harry smiled down at her, pushing their glasses across 
the bar. "Now you're talking." 

He reached over and curled his arm around her waist, pulling her close back 
to him. Carol let herself fall limply against him, all fight taken from her. 
She had come here with the faint hope that somehow there had been a mistake 
with the recording, but there hadn't been. He had been lying to her all 
along about the business party tonight and had just used it as an excuse to 
get away and cheat on her. Well, she would see just how far this thing would 
go. If he could have his fun, so could she. She could hurt him just as much 
as he could her and if she had to step out of line to do it then, damn it, 
she would. She pulled heavily against the drink Harry handed her, feeling 
the soothing liquid coursing through her blood like a sedative. The hurt and 
humiliation were gradually fading with the smooth lightheadedness the drink 
was bringing on. A slow burning anger seethed inside her, blotting away the 
tears that had formed from the shock she had just been subjected to. 

Harry had slipped his hand up her side and cupped it warmly just beneath her 
breast. He could see the slow change coming over her as the Pernod began its 
gradual conscience-killing effect. He knew it wouldn't be long now before 
this little bird was his. She had received her second shock of the evening 
and in a little while she would get the final killing jolt that would knock 
out any resistance she had left. He knew Marsha would do her part well. 

"Let's grab our place for the movie that's comin' up, sweetie. We don't want 
to be left out." 

Carol followed behind him as he guided her with his arm around her waist 
along the side of the room to the circular couch that lined the wall. He sat 
down, pulling her down alongside him. She had to almost crawl over the seat. 
It was so wide that when they were leaning back against the deep soft back 
cushion just their feet were hanging over the edge. About every four feet 
was a thick arm rest separating the seats from each other. She had 
difficulty making it without spilling her drink but Harry took it from her 
hand and she settled back comfortably with him. He handed her her drink back 
and curled his arm behind her, pulling her over tight against him. 

"More like a bed, isn't it?" he laughed softly. 

"Yes," she answered without feeling. "How long do we have to wait here?" 

"Just a minute. The others are taking their seats now." 

She strained her eyes through the semi-darkness again and could see the 
small group Bob and the blonde girl had been standing with breaking up into 
pairs and walking toward the couches. She watched angrily as she could see 
him guiding the girl toward a place several seats down from where she and 
Harry sat. Just as they were ready to sit another woman approached them and 
said a few words in a whisper she could not hear. Bob left the blonde with a 
shrug of his shoulders and followed her over toward Carol and Harry. Carol 
held her breath, afraid to breathe as they sat down on the section right 
next to them on her side. 

Harry smiled quietly to himself. Marsha was doing her job well, he thought, 
and he could hardly wait to see Carol's reaction when the action really 
started. 

"They're right next to me." She turned and breathed almost inaudibly in his 
ear. "What'll we do?" 

"Just keep quiet." he whispered back. "But we've got to really look like 
we're lovin' it up so we don't bring attention to ourselves." 

"W-What do we have to do?" she whispered in alarm. She hadn't expected 
things to have gone this far even though in her anger she had had some rash 
thoughts earlier. She could never in her life let another man do anything to 
her no matter how angry she became at Bob. It just wouldn't be right. 

"Nothing so bad," Harry assured, "just enough cuddling to make them think 
we're part of the party. If they find out now, we're both cooked, so just 
don't go fighting me off if I make it look like I'm getting hot pants." 

"Y-You don't have to talk like that," she objected into his ear, feeling 
again the numbing fear rising in her body. What if he did do something now? 
With Bob here she couldn't do a thing about it. If she made the slightest 
unusual sound he would know it was his wife next to him. She just couldn't 
let him recognize her under these circumstances even if he were doing the 
same thing right next to her. A woman could forgive a man for indiscretion 
but a man could never forgive a woman no matter how unfair it was. Wild 
thoughts of jumping up and running raced through her mind. He would think it 
were just another of the women here getting sick or something but the 
tightness of Harry Burns arm kept her pressed hard back into the cushion. 
She would just have to wait it out until a chance came when the movie was 
over. 

"Ohhh, I like you touching my nipple like that," she heard Marsha Burns' 
voice drift hoarsely over from next to her. Her face flushed in anger 
beneath the mask and she couldn't help turning her head slightly and see 
what they were doing out of the corner of her eye. 

To her amazed horror, Bob had his hand inserted down in the front of the 
woman's dress and was massaging her breasts. She had her head back on his 
shoulder with her mouth slightly open, a rapturous expression on her face. 

"Your husband's quite a lover," Burns whispered contemptuously in her ear. 

"How could he?" She said clenching her teeth, her voice rising in anger. 

Harry Burns jerked her head abruptly toward him with his hand and pressed 
his lips wetly to her grinding his mouth tightly to hers. She groaned and 
struggled limply for a sudden panicky moment, feeling his hand pressed hard 
into the softness of her breast. 

"Shhh," he whispered into her mouth. "They heard you. Relax. We have to make 
it look good." 

She let herself go limp as he commanded, surprised at the softness of his 
lips pressing into her mouth. The thought crossed her mind that it was the 
first time another man had kissed her since she had been married. She had 
almost forgotten what it was like and had to admit to herself that he did 
know what he was doing. In spite of her guard being up against letting any 
emotion overcome her, she could feel tiny butterfly like sensations flit 
suddenly through her stomach. 

"There," he said, whispering into her ear, "Don't say anything else. You'll 
give us away." 

Carol lifted her glass to her lips and drained it, desperately trying to 
collect her confused thoughts. She had never thought another man kissing her 
could do this to her, particularly with her husband sitting not more than 
three feet away. But before she could pursue the thought further the large 
white screen flickered to life in front of them. 

The waiter was making the rounds, passing out fresh drinks to the couples 
stretched out on the couches and Carol pressed hers greedily to her lips as 
she glued her eyes to the screen. 

She was afraid to look over at Bob and Harry's wife for fear of what she 
would see. The soft mewling sounds coming from her lips and the grating 
noise of his heavy, deep breathing told the story well enough. She could see 
through the dim light the vague shapes of other couples wrapped in tight 
embraces around the room. No one seemed to be paying any attention 
whatsoever to anyone else. 

Her eyes glanced back to the screen just as the title, "THE TUTOR" came on 
in large letters in color. She had never seen one of these movies before 
though she had heard a great deal about them and didn't have the vaguest 
idea what to expect. She had a slight tinge of doubt in her mind about 
whether or not she could sit through it if it was as awful as she had heard 
they were, but in another sense she was grateful for it. It took her mind 
momentarily off the entwined bodies of her husband and her neighbor's wife 
next to her. 

Harry Burns pulled her close to him, letting his hand dangle gently over her 
shoulder. His fingers brushed softly against the tip of her breast. He was 
growing more confident by the second and lewd, obscene thoughts of the 
things he would do to this young soft body once it had reached the stage of 
helpless submission ran in delicious kaleidoscopic pictures through his 
mind. Man, he grinned secretly to himself, he would turn her every way but 
up and then maybe that way too. She'd know she had been fucked when he 
finished with her, that was sure. 

On the screen a man sat looking at a book. At first glance, it appeared as 
though he were reading it but the angle of the camera turned and it could be 
seen that he had photographs secreted between the pages. His eyes gleamed as 
he studied them and the camera came in for a close-up showing the rounded 
lips of a woman enclosed over a hard rigid cock. Her eyes were tightly 
closed in obvious rapture over the task she was performing. 

Harry felt his young neighbor jump slightly from the sudden unexpected scene 
but he held her tighter, pressing his hand harder against the softness of 
her breast. 

The man started to turn the page, but suddenly turned toward the door. 
Someone was knocking. He closed the book and went to the door, opening it 
and letting in a young blonde schoolgirl of about eighteen. She was dressed 
in a Catholic girls' school uniform and carried a set o f books cradled in 
her arms. He showed her to the table and gave her the seat across from him. 
She sat down and shyly opened her book to the page he indicated and he gave 
her an assignment. There was no sound but the actions of the two indicated 
clearly what they were doing. The man left the room and the girl began 
studying her assignment. After a few moments, she reached over and took her 
tutor's book to check something. She opened it to the pages where he had the 
pictures secreted and the camera showed a sudden shocked expression cross 
over her face. It was apparent that her first reaction was to close the book 
and slide it back across the table but her curiosity overcame her fear of 
being discovered by the tutor. She began to slowly shuffle through the 
packet of pictures. A close-up showed the various positions of intercourse 
the subjects in the pictures were in. The camera switched to the girl's 
face, showing the wide-eyed amazement in her expressions. As the camera 
remained focused on her face, a slow change could be seen coming over her. 
Her emotions gradually changed from one of amazement to one of open mouthed 
excitement. The effect the pictures were having on her were apparent as the 
audience could see her eyes slowly dilate and the unmistakable smoky haze of 
passion flicker through them. She began breathing hard and the camera 
dropped to the floor under the table. It was positioned so that it looked 
straight up between her legs. She had pulled her skirt up slightly and had 
inserted her finger under the leg band of her white nylon panties. She was 
stroking softly the narrow moist slit of her vagina. It could be seen 
glistening wetly between her open legs as she suddenly shoved her finger 
deep in the tight little pussy and began fingering herself in time to her 
excited breathing. 

Carol held her breath, as she watched the scenes taking place on the screen. 
She had never in her life seen anything like it and again was grateful for 
the protective covering of the mask over her face. It all looked so real and 
true to life she couldn't believe it and through the lightheaded 
intoxicating haze of the Pernod, which all of a sudden seemed to be hitting 
her with greater force. She could feel her own body twitch in sympathy with 
the girl on the screen and pressed her thighs tight together to cut off the 
slight tingle that had started in her belly and worked its way down slowly 
to the sensuous point between her legs. Harry pressed harder into the 
softness of her breast and she made no move to resist as she could feel the 
tiny bud-like nipple harden under the thinness of her brassiere. She knew 
she would have to stop him soon before things ran away with them but she 
would wait for a moment until the delicious tingle between her legs 
subsided. 

A sudden look of horror came on the girls face on the screen. The tutor had 
suddenly opened the door and caught her fingering herself with the pictures 
in front of her. He grabbed her roughly by the arm and marched her over to 
the couch in the corner where he pulled her down across his knees. Her legs 
kicked wildly behind her as he lifted her skirt up over the soft round 
globes of her buttocks and began spanking her through the panties with the 
palm of his hand. The girl kicked and screamed under the harsh pounding of 
the tutor, her scantily covered little buttocks quivering piteously before 
each cruel blow. 

The camera showed a close-up of his face where a cruel glint shone brightly 
in his eyes. The camera switched to her buttocks again where he began 
drawing the flimsy white panties down over their delicious firm roundness. 
Angry red welts stood out on them from the spanking he had just given her. 
Tears of pain ran in streams from her sobbing eyes as she felt the soft 
nylon being drawn slowly over her buttocks and across her thighs. Her face 
turned toward him with a pleading expression, tears streaming from her eyes. 
She was begging him to stop. He pushed her from his lap to the floor and 
walked over to the table and picked up the packet of dirty pictures. He 
pulled several of them from it and returned to the prostrate young girl who 
had struggled to her knees. He held several of the photographs, with the 
more sadistic positions, in front of her face talking threateningly to her 
all the time. The poor, fear-struck girl kneeled in front of him nodding her 
head in agreement. Obviously, he was threatening to turn her in to the 
Mother Superior if she didn't follow his demands as outlined in the 
pictures. Quaking with fear, she rose to her feet and began stripping the 
clothing from her young budding body. The man with an evil grin on his face 
did the same. His pants fell to the floor quickly and his big, rigid penis 
could be seen standing out in front of him like the thick stump of a tree. 
He obviously had been chosen for the part because of this special endowment 
that appeared at least seven inches in length. The girl finished dropping 
her panties to the floor and stood before the grinning man completely naked, 
her arms crossed futilely over her well-developed, firm, young breasts. The 
hair covering the mound at the base of her white little belly was soft and 
sparse and the tiny folds of flesh covering the narrow slit of her vagina 
were plainly visible. The man gleefully made her sit down on the front edge 
of the cushion of a big easy chair and drape her legs up and out over either 
arm. He knelt down between her wide spread thighs with the camera zeroing in 
for a close-up of her pussy just over the top of his head. He reached 
forward placing one thumb on either side of the narrow hair-lined slit and 
spread the tender lips slowly apart exposing the moist pink flesh 
surrounding her tiny tight cunt. The camera zoomed in closer and her tiny 
clitoris could be seen throbbing gently in the air just above the tight 
elastic cuntal opening. 

Carol hardly dared to breathe. The Pernod had turned her body into a loose 
bundle of raw nerve ends that her mind could no longer control. She could 
not believe what she was seeing on the screen in front of her or the 
feelings it was causing to course through her flesh in tiny licking flames 
of desire. Harry Burns had pulled her so close against him now she could 
hardly move and during the excitement of the young girl undressing, inserted 
his hand down the vee of her neck and cupped a naked breast. She could feel 
small pin pricks of delicious feeling racing through the tips of them as he 
rolled the tiny hardening nipples maddeningly between his thumb and 
forefinger. She could feel the heat of his breath rushing against her ear as 
he turned his head toward her and locked his lips wetly against hers. She 
tried for a moment to twist away but the pressure of his mouth was too much 
for her in her present state. 

"Cooperate, they're looking toward us," he breathed into her mouth. 

She had almost forgotten about Bob and Harry's wife in her concentration on 
the movie and let herself relax gently against him. She had to make it look 
good, she rationalized through the haze of the Pernod. Bob must never find 
out she was here. He would kill her, but she laughed secretly, he deserved 
everything she was doing. It gave her a secret sense of power to be lying 
here in someone else's arms with his hands bringing delicious sensations 
from her throbbing breasts while her husband lay a few feet away doing the 
same thing to another woman and not even knowing she was here. 

Perhaps, she mused dreamily through the wonderful sensation the absinthe 
covered her with, she had been missing something in turning down all those 
passes she received when she had been working to help support them. She 
thrust her tongue back sharply at Harry Burns as he sucked it deep into the 
wetness of his mouth. He really knew how to kiss. Bob, in all the time they 
had been married had never kissed her with such wild animal abandon and 
passion and she squirmed hard down into the seat. All the hurt and 
humiliation she had felt before were gone and the Pernod had tempered her 
anger so that all she felt now was a relaxed justification for being here. 
She had just as much right as Bob did in enjoying something like this. As 
long as, of course, it didn't go too far and Harry did seem like such a 
gentleman. He had been looking after her interest all evening and she was 
grateful to him for being so considerate. He wasn't at all the way Jean had 
described him that first morning she had come over. Admitted, he was a bit 
crude in his language and appearance but this didn't matter, they were both 
sharing this sordid secret of the affair between his wife and her husband 
which was a very strong bond between two people. 

Harry withdrew his lips from hers and looked back toward the screen. 

"God damn, look at that," he turned and whispered heavily into her ear, his 
hand tightening harder on her breast. 

She turned her head slightly and caught the view of the screen just as the 
man's head moved forward toward the moist pink slit he was parting with his 
fingers. There was a profile view now of his face and the girl's vagina with 
the tiny reddish clitoris still quivering from her obvious excitement. The 
man's tongue snaked out and the tip swiped across the throbbing flesh 
sending the tiny bud into a jerking hardness that brought groans of delight 
from those watching in the room. He teased it wetly for a moment with his 
tongue and then began running it up and down the full length of the widely 
spread slit bringing contorted expressions of joy to the girl's face that 
could now be seen in the camera. 

Carol could feel a sudden twitch between her own legs and again pressed them 
tightly together to try and stop the maddening sensation. 

The girl wrapped her hands into the man's thick black head of hair and the 
muscles in her arms stood out tight and strained as she pulled his face 
forward with all her strength into the moist wetness of her loins. Her hips 
began a slow hard grinding up against his face as he sunk his tongue with a 
sudden lizard-like thrust deep into the tightness of her clasping pussy. She 
now was a raw quivering mass of desire and writhed and twisted like a slow 
moving belly dancer under the man's hot probing tongue. 

There was a groan next to her and Carol wanted to look but she didn't dare. 

"Marsha's sucking him," Harry whispered with heavy breath. 

She turned slightly, unable to stop herself and got a sudden clear view 
through the darkness of Harry's wife's head working up and down over her 
husband's loins, her lips clasped tightly in an oval circle around his erect 
penis. It stood hard and rigid through the open zipper of his fly, slight 
tufts of pubic hair protruding around the edge of the thick base. 

"Oh God," Carol moaned, turning back to Burns and hiding her face tightly 
into his shoulder. "They're doing something awful." 

She hadn't expected this. Kissing, yes. But not this right out in front of 
everyone else. Again, small tears brimmed through her eyes. She thought a 
moment ago she had herself in control and that she could handle herself 
under any circumstances but now she found she couldn't. The awful sight of 
his penis disappearing into Harry's wife's hungry, sucking mouth was just 
too much for anyone to stand. The sounds coming from next to her were just 
like the recording, wet sucking noises punctuated intermittently by small 
mewls and groans of totally absorbed pleasure. She could hear other like 
sounds coming from around the room too as other couples, overcome by the 
ravishment of the young girl on the screen, locked themselves together in 
various forms of sexual connection. She burrowed her head tightly into 
Harry's shoulder to try and shut the sounds away but it did not help, they 
were everywhere, coming at her from all sides. Again, she wanted to run but 
knew her legs would not support her if she rose from the couch. She could do 
nothing but lie here in Harry Burns arms and listen in torment while his 
wife made love to her husband. She turned her face back to the screen hoping 
it would drive his groans of pleasure away from her ears. 

The man had risen from the floor now and climbed up on the soft cushioned 
arms of the chair. He was kneeling in front of the girl's face with his 
knees straddling her body on both sides. His giant rigid cock stood out in 
the air like a huge fleshy monster. He had his hand around it, rubbing the 
wet lubricated head softly against her tightly clenched lips. It was 
apparent she didn't want to open them but he reached forward with his other 
hand and pinched her nostrils tightly together. She fought for a moment 
moving her head from side to side in desperation until with a sudden gasp 
for air her mouth opened wide. The man flicked his hips forward sliding the 
huge blood-filled head deep within the confines of her tender lips. Again 
she fought but he tangled his hands cruelly into her hair and forced her to 
begin a gentle sucking motion. Her lips hollowed and expanded with each 
stroke he made into her mouth. Tiny ridges of soft pink flesh could be seen 
pulling from her ovaled lips as he drew back, and then disappeared back 
inside as he slid it gently forward again. He began a rhythmic sawing, back 
and forth, never quite drawing it out all the way but leaving the tip just 
inside the warm moistness of her mouth. After a moment, the girl seemed to 
warm to her task and reached up between his wide spread thighs and cradled 
the softness of his testicles in her palms. She stroked them gently as she 
sucked voraciously at his thrusting cock above. From the profile it appeared 
as a thick wet glistening piston of flesh moving methodically in and out of 
her hungrily-nibbling lips. 

Another deep animal-like groan erupted beside Carol jerking her attention 
from the screen. 

Harry's wife had lifted her dress up over her hips and crawled up Bob's 
body. She obviously had worn no panties as Carol had not heard the tell tale 
noise of clothing being removed. She was straddling him, the round whiteness 
of her buttocks poised directly over the hardness of his long thin cock. She 
was reaching back underneath her body with her hand and guiding him into 
her. Carol held her breath as she saw the red bulbous head of her husband's 
prick make contact with the moist open flanges of Marsha's cunt. She moved 
it up and down in the moist glistening slit for a moment, parting the soft 
pubic hair, and then with a slight "oooomph," ground her buttocks hard down 
on it. 

Carol's eyes were wide in hypnotized disbelief as she watched Bob's 
throbbing cock slide slowly up into the wet clasping lips of Harry's wife's 
cunt, making a wet sluicing noise as it entered. She ground down on it all 
the way until all Carol could see was a small tiny bit of the base of his 
cock protruding from the tight moist lips surrounding it. She knew she 
should scream and reach out and tear them apart but the tranquilizing effect 
of the Pernod and the tightness of Harry's arms holding her to the couch 
would not permit it. Instead, she lay frozen in immobility and watched 
helplessly as Marsha began a slow grinding up and down movement with her 
buttocks rising in the air above Bob until just the tip of his rock-hard 
cock was left just inside the warm enclosing sheath of her flesh. Then, with 
an "oooomph" each time she made the movement, she dropped heavily back down 
on him, impaling herself completely with each long smooth stroke. 

Carol turned her head away again, a tight restrictive feeling digging deep 
in her belly. She had never imagined what it would be like watching two 
people making love, particularly her own husband, and found it affected her 
in a way she had never dreamed. Instead of the absolute revulsion she had 
expected, she could feel a strange light-fingered quivering deep between her 
thighs. She closed her eyes and pressed her face back tightly into Harry's 
shoulder but still the vision of Bob's cock, wet and glistening, skewering 
into the moist softness of Marsha's vagina raced through her mind. She 
clenched her eyes tight but could not blot out the lewd inciting picture. 
Their soft moans and the wet sucking noises of intercourse drifted across to 
her ears magnifying the obscene image a thousand times. 

Harry's hand ground harder into her breast as he too suddenly became aware 
of the wet coupling of the two bodies next to them. He gave a sudden hard 
pinch against the soft rubbery nipple sending a flash of pain and pleasure 
shooting down the full length of her spine. She uttered a low helpless groan 
into his ear which was quickly choked off by the harsh pressure of his wet 
lips clamping over hers. His tongue flicked moistly into her mouth causing 
her body to squirm again down against the seat in an attempt to stem the 
flowing tide of passion creeping over her. 

"He's fucking my wife," he breathed into her mouth. "Did you see them?" 

"Y-Yes," she mumbled back, the lewd word strangely exciting her. 

"I believe in an eye for an eye," he whispered roughly and pulling her on 
her side so that they were facing each other. He ground his pelvis tightly 
into hers sliding his hand down to the soft roundness of her buttocks and 
pulling her loins tight into his. 

"Oh, no, God no, we can't, we can't," she whimpered into the wetness of his 
mouth trying to keep her voice as low as possible. She tried to squirm away 
from him but his strength was too great and she only succeeded in worsening 
her position. She didn't dare struggle too much for fear of bringing 
attention to them. Bob mustn't find out she was here, he just mustn't. He 
would never forgive her and it would destroy all chances of working 
something out between them when she confronted him with the fact that she 
knew he was having an affair with their neighbor's wife. 

"Why not, your husband's fucking my wife? I'm just going to even the score 
and fuck his wife, by God." He whispered as though he meant it. 

"Oh! Please don't do it to me," she pleaded, tears again bubbling to her 
eyes. He had her in a position where she couldn't fight back and he knew it. 
If she resisted too strongly then Bob would certainly hear and all their 
chances of any future happiness would be ruined forever. Oh, why hadn't she 
listened to Jean and not let her curiosity run away with her? Why hadn't she 
been satisfied with the evidence from the tape recorder? 

Her body stiffened as she felt Harry begin massaging the soft white cheeks 
of her buttocks from behind and pulling her loins harder against his. As he 
ground against her, his mouth still locked wetly to hers, she gasped and 
held her breath feeling the rising hardness under his pants pressing into 
her own moistening genitals. The sweet licorice taste of the Pernod wafted 
lazily through her bloodstream intensifying the sudden uncontrolled 
sensations beginning to course through her against her will. She clenched 
her eyes tightly shut fighting against it with all her strength, but the 
soft fingers of his hand nipping teasingly against her nipple and the 
hardness of his penis grinding into her crotch, brought further soft moans 
of helpless submission to her lips. Her very helplessness and the thought of 
her husband making love to another woman not more than a few feet away were 
too much for the tortured girl's mind. 

"God, you're built, baby. I'm going to enjoy this little swap." 

"Oh, don't, please don't," she whimpered as she felt the lewd delicious 
feelings still rippling across the surface of her skin. "N-No one but my 
husband has ever done it to me before." 

"Always a first time for everything, chicken." He laughed softly, dropping 
his hand down between their tightly merged bodies to the flatness of her 
belly. 

"Oh, don't touch me there, please don't." She sobbed, still conscious of 
Bob's groans of wild abandoned passion next to them. Her body jerked 
slightly as she felt Harry's fingers hooking and sliding the material of her 
dress up the front of her thighs. She moaned and tried again to pull away 
using all her willpower to overcome the strange sensations building up still 
against her will deep in the pit of her stomach. 

"Baby, I'm gonna fuck you and fuck you good. That'll teach that husband of 
yours to keep his prick in his pants around my wife," Harry grinned 
triumphantly to himself. "You ain't ever gonna be happy with what you're 
gettin' at home again." 

Carol gasped and held her breath as she felt the hem of her dress reach the 
top of her thighs and his fingers suddenly coming into hot searing contact 
with the softness of her naked flesh. An electrifying shock rippled along 
the flesh of her legs as she felt him slipping a finger slowly under the 
tight elastic leg band of her panties. She squirmed back a little, 
whimpering helplessly, as the tip found the narrow sensitive slit of her 
vagina and gently thrust into it, parting the soft pubic hair and making 
sudden delicious contact with the throbbing tiny head of her clitoris. It 
was wet and slippery from the unwanted desire that permeated her whole being 
and she sucked in her breath tightly to hold back the groan of pleasure she 
felt building deep in her chest. She couldn't make a sound. Bob would know, 
he would know, and he just couldn't find out it was his own wife wrapped in 
this horrible obscene embrace with Harry Burns right in front of him. All 
she could do was to lie here helplessly while he roamed his hands over her 
body at will and took all the indecent liberties with her he desired. There 
was nothing she could do and the tears of humiliation cascaded warmly down 
over her face, as in her horror she found herself reacting involuntarily to 
the maddening caresses of her breasts and vagina. She was wet between her 
legs and found her hips suddenly squirming in involuntary rhythm to the 
light teasing of his finger rummaging between her thighs. 

"Spread 'em a little, baby," Harry breathed harshly into her mouth, "Daddy 
wants it open wide." 

"Oh God, please don't do it here. I couldn't stand it," she pleaded softly 
through her tears and desire. "Don't let my husband see you doing it to me." 

"Promise you'll do it my way if we go somewhere?" he whispered with a 
triumphant grin on his face. 

"Oh yes, yes, anything," she implored, "but please don't let him watch us." 

Harry rose from the couch and pulled her up by the hand giving her just a 
moment to smooth her dress down. He led her quickly toward the bar, stopping 
to fill their glasses and then, once more, pulled her by the hand out of the 
room and into the corridor. 

Carol was so emotionally upset from the Pernod and the horrible sight of her 
husband making love to another woman that she was hardly conscious of what 
she was doing or where she was going. It wasn't until he had led her into 
the room and closed the door behind them that she suddenly realized what she 
had said to him in her desperation back in the other room. The full impact 
of the evil thought of another man making love to her suddenly hit her. She 
had to get out of this awful mess she had gotten herself into and had to do 
it quick or it would be too late! 

She suddenly turned toward the door and grabbing the knob tried with all her 
strength to pull it open. 

It was locked! 

Harry Burns laughed behind her as she struggled desperately, but to no 
avail, against the unyielding handle. Finally, realizing the futility of her 
efforts she sagged forward against the door and sobbed helplessly. 

"Oh please let me out, Mr. Burns, please. I'll do anything but this. I-I 
just can't go through with it." 

"Too late now, baby," he said with a cold, cruel grin playing across his 
lips. "Remember, an eye for an eye. Besides, what are you worrying about? 
He's out there balling my wife, don't you think we ought to get even?" 

"Yes, yes, but not like this." She pleaded desperately. "We can sit down and 
talk with them later." 

"Not on your life," he laughed aloud. "Old Daddy here doesn't play that way. 
Besides, I've been looking forward to this since I saw you working out in 
the yard last Sunday with those tight-assed little shorts on. Alan, what a 
picture you make in those." 

"Y-You mean you thought about this before?" The brutal realization that she 
had been led into this like a naive young schoolgirl suddenly hit her with 
the impact of a cannon ball. 

"Hell yes," he gloated proudly. "You don't think that husband of yours is 
any better than anyone else with investments do you? No baby, it was those 
tight little pants of yours that got him that account and nothing more. 
And-I intend to get a lot of what's in 'em if he's going to keep it." 

She stared across the room in disbelief. She couldn't believe the things he 
was saying. How could this crude, obscene man dare to stand there and say 
those things to her? He just wasn't human. 

"Now come on, chicken, get that dress off and let's see what you look like 
in the nude." 

Carol pressed herself tightly back against the door as she watched him begin 
stripping his clothes from his body. She wanted to close her eyes and shut 
out the horror but was too frightened that he would move toward her without 
her knowing it. It took hut a second until he stood in front of her 
completely naked, this thick, hard prick standing out from beneath the 
slight paunch he was beginning to develop like the menacing shaft of a heavy 
blunt spear. He turned toward her and with a lewd grin on his lips began 
stroking the heavy uncircumcised foreskin back and forth over the hard 
bulbous head. 

"Like that, honey?" he smiled, obviously enjoying the brutal torment he was 
subjecting her to. He was a sadist and she watched like a trapped insect the 
faint cruel glint growing in his eyes like a hot burning ember glowing in 
the fire. 

"Bet your husband never had anything like that to stuff in you," he 
continued his tormenting of the horrified girl, watching the contorted 
expressions of paralyzing fear cross over her face like some great tidal 
wave of darkness. Carol tried to speak, hut she couldn't. She was completely 
frozen against the door as she watched the lewd man still stroking himself 
before her. Against her will, he eyes dropped again to the hard fleshy 
instrument he was holding in his hand. 

My God, it was thick! 

In spite of her fear, she found her mind wondering how a woman could take 
such a thing inside of her without being split completely apart. He was 
built and he knew it, and stood for a moment longer reveling in the fear the 
size of his cock was bringing to her eyes. 

He started slowly toward her. 

"D-Don't touch me." Carol finally managed to stammer through the 
immobilizing fear. She knew there was no escape now. He was going to ravish 
her helpless body no matter how she pleaded with him not to do it. 

"Are you gonna take those clothes off, or do I have to do it for you?" 

Carol stood motionless, all hope gone. There was nothing she could do 
against his strength. She was alone and completely at his mercy to do as he 
wished. 

He reached out with his thick meaty hands and with a quick sudden jerk drew 
her hard against him cupping her face in his palms. He jerked her mask away 
and with an evil triumphant grin pressed his wet lips tightly down over 
hers, thrusting his tongue deep into the depths of her mouth. She stood 
limply in front of him feeling the hardness of his penis digging into the 
softness of her stomach. A last faint thought of trying to tear herself away 
from him flickered across her mind but faded with the pain of his fingers 
digging into the sides of her face. 

"That's a girl," he breathed into her mouth softly. "Daddy's gonna do it to 
you nice and easy." 

Carol was dimly aware of his hands leaving her face and snaking around her 
body to the zipper at the back of her dress. With one swift downward jerk he 
opened it down to the tops of her buttocks. She could feel the cool rush of 
air against her skin as he pulled it from her shoulders and let it fall in a 
soft heap to the floor around her ankles. The snaps of her brassiere came 
next and she heard him mutter a faint sigh of lusty appreciation as he 
dropped it to the floor and her full white breasts burst into the open air. 
He dropped to his knees in front of her as she swayed above him, hooking his 
finger in the elastic waist band of her white nylon panties and pulled them 
slowly down over the softness of her round full buttocks and let them drop 
in the small skimpy pile of her other clothing around her ankles. 

There was nothing left. She stood before him completely naked like the 
goddess Venus while she heard him panting on his knees in front of her. She 
swayed dangerously, almost losing her balance as she felt his lips pressing 
tightly into the nude flesh of her belly. The sudden wet contact sent a 
chill racing the length of her spine and she automatically reached forward 
with her hands locking them in his hair to keep from falling. Mistaking this 
for total surrender he dropped his lips to the "V" of her crotch, spreading 
the soft blonde pubic hair with his thumbs and flicking his tongue 
lizard-like into the moist, flowering slit of her vagina. 

Carol jumped from the sudden electrifying contact with the tiny bud of her 
clitoris, losing her balance and falling backwards toward the bed. The edge 
caught her behind the knees and she sprawled flat on her back, her legs 
opening wide as she landed. 

Harry Burns leaped forward and caught her in that position as she kicked to 
close her legs. He clamped his sweating palms against the soft insides of 
her thighs and held her as she landed. Legs spread wide apart and eyes open 
wide in abject terror, she struggled to close them but it was a hopeless 
one-sided battle. She could see him haunched on all fours down between her 
widespread thighs grinning up at her between her proud upstanding breasts 
like a beast of prey ready to pounce on its helpless, fear-stricken victim 
and devour it in savage feast. The pink moist flesh of her naked vagina was 
presented up to his leering face in defenseless sacrifice. She lay frozen to 
the mattress, her humiliation complete, as she watched his tongue slowly 
circling his lips in nervous preparation for the ravishment about to take 
place. 

Again, he placed his palms flat against the inside of her thighs his thumbs 
resting on the soft fleshy flanges of her cunt. Then, with a slow torturing 
outward movement of the thumbs he drew the ragged pink lips slowly apart 
exposing the moist pink slit to the mercy of his gaze. He watched it 
greedily for a moment and then with an animal-like groan he dropped his head 
and buried the full length of his long slippery tongue snake-like into the 
warm throbbing walls of her pussy. 

She jerked, a soul-searing moan escaping from deep in her chest. Her 
buttocks ground down into the mattress trying to escape the maddening 
assault on her secret genitals. 

"Oh God! Ooooh, Oooooooh!" She whimpered before his depraved attack. Her 
head was up off the mattress, watching in horrified disbelief that this 
nightmare was actually happening to her as his head rocked up and down in 
greedy feast between her legs below. 

"It can't be, it can't be," she groaned over and over to herself, in 
undisguised humiliation, her head falling back on the mattress and flailing 
helplessly from side to side as his tongue speared in and out of the 
involuntarily dilating lips of her cunt. In spite of her terror, and 
revulsion at the horrible things being done to her defenseless genitals, 
tiny wisps of forbidden pleasure began to ripple deep down in her belly and 
her arms lay tensed at her side while her firm rounded breasts jiggled 
slightly from the buffeting her body was undergoing. His hands reached up 
over the white flatness of her quivering belly and dug harshly into their 
fleshy softness, his fingers rolling the hardening nipples between them in 
unrelenting fury. As his mouth and tongue worked animal-like in slobbering 
subjugation at the wide-spread tightness of her cunt, his eyes remained 
opened wide, watching in arrogant delight the contortions of her face up 
through the quivering white mounds of her breasts. He was waiting, waiting 
for the first signs of total surrender he knew were sure to come. 

Carol lay frozen in abject submission to the depraved outrages he was 
subjecting her helpless, trapped body to. There was nothing she could do, 
and great tears of humiliation and shame swelled in her eyes. Random crazy 
pictures of her husband flickered through her mind as she listened to the 
vile wet sucking noises Harry Burns was making at her crotch. Oh God, how 
could she ever face him again after allowing her body to be subjected to 
this cruel inhuman man haunched on all fours down between her cruelly spread 
legs? He was defiling her as she never thought possible, humiliating her 
beyond her wildest imagination and there was nothing she could do but lie 
beneath him and accept any degradation he would desire without so much as a 
scream in protest. Oh God, why did Bob have to make love to his wife! Why 
did he have to deceive her and leave her at the mercy of this lust-crazed 
beast! Carol had never felt so alone and helpless in her entire life. 

His eyes remained locked on her face as he continued the torturing thrusts 
of his tongue into her vagina. He watched the helpless tears falling over 
her cheeks with cruel satisfaction. The goddamn little bitch, this would 
teach her to run around in her yard with those short shorts on, teasing the 
hell out of a man. So she was too good for the likes of him, he laughed to 
himself, giving an extra hard thrust of the tongue. Well, he'd show her. 
Before the night was over she'd be crawling to him on her knees begging for 
more. And by God she'd get it and more. Chuckling softly to himself, he 
brought his hands down and pushed them under the backs of her knees splayed 
out wide on either side of him. He lifted and pushed them up and over her 
body so the kneecaps touched her breasts and exposed the whole flat plane of 
her crotch to his lustful sight. This would get her, he grinned, and flicked 
the tip of his tongue into the tight little puckered hole of her anus 
nestled just below the opening of her cunt. 

The unexpected wet searing contact with the sensitive, rubbery opening 
brought a long low moan of anguish from her tortured lips. She clenched her 
eyes tightly shut and her lips bared back over her teeth from the torturing 
sensation it sent racing out of control through her body. 

"Oooooooh, God, don't, please don't!" she whimpered, trying desperately to 
screw her buttocks back down from the hot flicking tongue licking without 
mercy at her asshole. His answer was a lewd chuckle from his wet lips and a 
further stab into the tight fleshy ring. 

"Aaaaaggh," she groaned again as small tiny goosebumps rippled across her 
quivering belly and full heaving breasts. 

Carol sobbed helplessly before his attack, and suddenly, in spite of her 
revulsion and humiliation she felt her body begin to desert her. Her 
buttocks jerked back involuntarily at the darting tongue sending helpless 
spasms of delicious sensation coursing through her raw nerves. 

"Oh no! No! I can't! I can't!" the cruel realization of her loss of control 
suddenly hit her with it's full impact, bringing further cries of shame and 
humiliation at the thought, not only of the obscene adultery she was 
committing with another man, but the more frightening and shameful thought 
that her body was suddenly enjoying it. She clenched her teeth tight 
together and fought with all her will against the tiny licking sparks that 
threatened to burst into sudden uncontrollable flame and devour her in her 
helplessness. But, it was a losing battle as Harry Burns mewled and licked 
ceaselessly at her naked wet loins below. 

And then, after a moment of long desperate struggle within her tortured and 
confused mind, the dam burst. 

Her shamelessly aroused body suddenly jerked spasmodically and began a slow 
abandoned movement up against his thrusting tongue. Her hands curled down 
into his hair with a low soul-stirring moan from deep in her chest. 
Forgotten were the thoughts of her husband, forgotten was the humiliation. 
All that mattered now were the delicious shafts of pleasure piercing through 
her flesh like tiny pricking needles of fire. 

Harry sensed her sudden submissive surrender and with a savage grin, thrust 
his thick wet tongue deep into the quivering sheath of her vagina again. He 
could feel the soft silky pubic hairs grazing tantalizingly against the tip 
of his nose and the sides of his cheeks as she ground her buttocks in a slow 
hypnotic rhythm up against his face. She was his now, he gloated, watching 
excitedly the pained pleasurable contortions of her face as her eyes 
clenched, her lips baring back over the whiteness of her teeth. 

Yes, by god, it wouldn't be long now, he sensed with excitement, until he 
rammed it deep into that white little belly of hers and shot his hot eager 
sperm all the way up in this tight steaming pussy. By God, she wasn't too 
good for him anymore. She was just another hot little bitch who was 
screaming to be fucked by any cock she could get her hands on. Well, he 
gloated with obscene delight, she'd get it alright ... and get it good. 

Outside on the screen, the man's buttocks were flexing and hollowing rapidly 
as he drove himself hard into the writhing young girl underneath him. Her 
legs were wrapped tight around his body, her ankles locked in a lewd 
death-like grip over his back. His giant cock was spearing into her tight 
wet pussy like a steel piston, bringing grunts of indescribable joy to her 
mumbling lips. 

Bob could see the end coming for both of them as he watched the screen over 
the rocking shoulder of Harry Burns' wife as she labored heavily over him to 
finish it. He heard her grunt loudly just as he felt his own explosion deep 
inside the tight wet confines of her cunt shooting its hot fiery liquid deep 
up inside her. Both their bodies quivered for a moment emptying themselves 
against each other. And then, she collapsed down on him with a sigh of 
relief as Bob watched the couple on the screen grunting to completion just 
before the last few frames of the reel whirred into blackness. There was a 
few moments of darkness as Marsha Burns slowly crawled from his body, his 
wet deflated prick slipping from her with a soft sucking noise. And then, 
the screen was lit again. He tried to focus his eyes to see more clearly, 
but he couldn't. The Pernod and the final wild race for fulfillment with 
Marsha had dulled his senses too much. It was just a faint blur in the 
distance across the room. 

"Recognize the Red Room," Marsha whispered next to him, a strange excited 
tone in her voice. 

He nodded his head slightly as his eyes focused a little better. He could 
make out the blurred shapes of two bodies writhing on the bed with a man's 
head buried deep between the wide-spread legs of a blonde girl whose hands 
clung tightly to his hair as though it were a matter of life or death. Her 
blurred face was contorted into a half-crazed expression of passion that 
seemed to border on the verge of hysteria. He had the sudden vague feeling 
that he knew this girl from somewhere but his thoughts were interrupted by 
the white-coated waiter going around the room and whispering something to 
the couples locked in various positions of love on the couches. Without 
exception, they stopped whatever they happened to be doing and focused their 
attention on the screen. 

"Harry's breaking in a new member for us tonight. You'll enjoy watching it." 
Marsha whispered over to him, the strange excited tone in her voice growing 
more intense. 

"Harry, your husband!" he exclaimed. "I thought he was out of town." 

"Oh, yes, he was," she laughed, snuggling her shoulders nonchalantly. "But 
he came back unexpectedly and decided to join in the party. I forgot to tell 
you about it." 

"B-But," Bob stammered unable to believe his ears. "What if he sees us 
together." 

"Don't you worry, dear boy," she said, patting his hand. "He knows all about 
it. Now you just relax and watch the show. It should be particularly 
interesting to you." 

"To me, why me?" 

"You'll see, love, you'll see." She patted his arm and curled up against 
him. "I'll have the screen focused properly in a little while after Harry 
really gets warmed up." 

Bob took his glass from the small rack on the arm of the couch and tipped it 
to his lips. He knew he had had enough but this was a crazy mess and he 
decided he was going to need a little fortification if he had to face Harry 
Burns tonight after screwing his wife the way he had been doing. The Pernod 
relaxed him again and he tried to concentrate on the screen, his eyes 
clearing slightly. 

God, that girl, whoever she was, was really going out of her mind. He 
wondered casually which one of the men's wives it was, and why Harry Burns 
got the honor of breaking her into the club. He wished also they'd focus 
that screen now, this was too good to be missed and he wanted to see all the 
details of the action. The thought of that poor girl in her first initiation 
stirred his loins considerably in spite of the going over he had just had 
with Marsha, God, he'd love to get a shot at her tonight after Harry 
finished. He wondered if the club rules were the same as some of those that 
had been exposed in the papers recently where all the men got a shot at the 
new female members. But, there was no hurry, he would have plenty of time 
before the evening was over. 

Carol squirmed and bucked under the maddening torture of Harry's flicking 
tongue until she thought the pounding of her heart would break through her 
chest. Her head was raised from the bed again watching his face, her hands 
locked tightly behind his head pulling the punishing lash of his tongue 
deeper and deeper into her. It seemed as though the delicious sucking of her 
vagina had gone on forever, when suddenly Harry forced his head from the 
tight restrictive grip of her hands and kneeled up between her open thighs. 

She closed her eyes tight again to close away the humiliation of lying under 
him stripped naked and defenseless against his cold cruel gaze. The shame of 
the weakness of her body momentarily brought her to reality. But, then he 
spoke: 

"Now I'm gonna fuck you, baby," he breathed. "Just like your husband did my 
wife, only better." 

Carol lay still, with her thighs open wide, her breath coming so fast she 
felt her lungs would burst. Her belly quivered and heaved as though he 
already had the long thick cock extending out from his loins sunk deep 
inside her. 

Harry bent down over her prostrate body, fastening his teeth harshly into 
the nipple of her heaving left breast. She groaned in pain, attempting to 
twist away from the sudden sharp torture but his hands, playing over the 
softness of her thighs and hips, held her tight. His lips roamed wetly over 
the white palpitating mounds, causing a blissful twitch that descended 
feather-like to her crotch below. Her buttocks began a slow impatient 
grinding down into the mattress. 

"God damn, you're gettin' hot," he moaned as his lips slobbered over the 
soft sensitive parts of her body, his eyes still hard and cruel in the greed 
of his desire. "I'm gonna screw you like you've never been screwed before. I 
want to see you twist and squirm when this cock of mine sinks into your 
belly. I want to see you beg and scream for it." 

Carol lay frozen under the prodding of his obscene words. Their very 
lewdness excited her more and more but still she fought within herself 
against this final surrender that would mean her total subjugation to him. 

"Spread your legs wide, honey, I'm comin' in now," Harry grinned in triumph 
above her. 

Quivering, half in fear and half in anticipation, Carol opened her thighs 
wider apart. Harry levered up over her, his arms stiff, his hands resting on 
her shoulders. He dropped one hand down between their bodies taking the 
hard, throbbing cock between his fingers and guided it forward, using the 
thick rubbery head to part the full, fleshy lips of her cunt. She turned her 
head to the side on the mattress, closing her eyes with a shudder as she 
felt its soft electrical contact against the sensitive ragged edges of her 
moist pussy. She held her breath for what seemed an eternity, lying still in 
utter subjugation before him, not even daring to breath. 

"Oooooooh," she breathed as she felt the first harsh pressure against the 
tight elastic opening of her vagina. 

He pushed. 

"Aaaagh," she coughed as the tip slipped through, stretching cruelly the 
tight rubbery opening until Carol felt as though her thighs were splitting 
apart from the relentless outward pressure. 

"Ooooh, God no, please. You're hurting me. You're hurting me!" She was 
suddenly screaming almost at the top of her voice as she jerked her eyes 
open in fear and saw his evil sadistic grin above her. Oh God, he was 
killing her, and he was enjoying it. He was enjoying watching her suffer 
beneath the cruelty of his slow relentless penetration of her cunt. 

Suddenly, the grin on his face faded and a contorted expression of sheer raw 
lust replaced it. He could stand it no more, watching this helpless, 
innocent young wife spread-eagle beneath him with the head of his cock 
disappearing into the hair of her pussy. 

He had to fuck her, he had to, and quick! 

He fell forward, his weight smashing her full firm tits tightly back against 
her chest. He thrust his hips forward at the same time and his long, thick 
cock slid into her cunt like a raging freight train pushing the soft moist 
flesh of her vaginal walls in rippling waves before it. There was no 
stopping it until with a loud groan his balls smacked heavily into the 
upturned cheeks of her tightly clenched ass. 

"Oh God! Oh God!" she cried beneath him. She had never been so filled in her 
life and his cock felt as though it had ripped her vagina in a thousand tiny 
threads as he had speared into her without mercy or thought of injury. And 
now, now it lay sunk deep in her belly filling every part of her insides. 
There wasn't one tiny ridge of flesh on it that she could not feel as it 
pressed tight against the soft flesh of her cunt, enclosed in the moist warm 
sheath like a sword sliced cruelly into its piteous victim's belly. 

He lay still for a moment, his face directly over hers. Carol too lay 
immobile, afraid to move for fear of the pain it might bring. Neither made a 
sound for a long moment and then suddenly she felt a throb deep inside, the 
thickness of Harry's cock jerked up another half an inch as he flexed it 
inside her vagina. 

"Auuuuuuughh!" she grunted breathlessly, her face contorting to the deeper 
pain. 

"Told ya I'd stretch that tight little pussy of yours, baby," he tormented 
above her, flexing again. 

"Aaaaaaaggggghh," she groaned deeper this time, the cords in her neck 
standing out from the pressure of her resistance. 

"Like it?" he grinned down in lewd delight at the pained expression on her 
face. 

There was no answer. 

"Like it, baby, I said?" he flexed again. 

"Ooooooohhh, yes, yes," she cried, afraid to offend him. The pain was just 
too unbearable. 

"Beg then," he hissed with contemptuous coldness. 

"W-What," was all the anguished girl could utter. 

"Beg me, I said," he repeated with greater arrogance. 

"Ooooh, no I can't I can't," she prayed beneath him. 

"Beg me to fuck you. Now!" he throbbed the huge member deep down in her 
quivering belly again. 

"Oooooh, God, don't, don't, I can't," she fought with all her strength and 
courage to escape this one final humiliation. This, she knew, would be the 
final surrender. There would be no escaping him ever again. It was the only 
thing she had left. He had taken all else, her pride in her fidelity to her 
husband, her self respect, everything was gone. She couldn't let him have 
the pleasure of hearing her beg too. She just couldn't. 

He throbbed deeper, digging his fingers into the softness of her shoulders 
at the same time. 

"Do it," he commanded, savage fire burning in his eyes, "Beg, you bitch." 

"Ooooh, God," she sobbed, her resistance broken by the pain and helplessness 
of her position. "Do it to me, do it to me." 

"Not like that, say fuck me," he demanded. 

"Oh, fuck me!" she hissed through clenched teeth, tears gushing from her 
eyes as she spat out the lewd, obscene words. Her humiliation and 
degradation were complete. She would never be the same again. She had 
allowed herself to lose control over all the things she knew were right and 
now she wished she were dead. She could never face Bob again with the 
innocence she had before. She was a whore now, she was a whore! 

The bitter words bored into her mind like evil omens of doom. She was lost! 
Lost! He had taken everything that was right and good from her. There was no 
hope left, nothing, nothing, but the huge, fleshy instrument buried deep 
inside her burning vagina. 

Harry Burns sensed the loss of the last remaining ounce of resistance left 
in her soul and clamping his wet lips suddenly right down over her mouth he 
began a slow rocking motion between her thighs. He could feel the tight 
narrow passage widening slightly with each short smooth stroke as she 
groaned in hopeless defeat beneath him. It wouldn't take long to turn this 
smooth, soft-bodied young wife into a raw, squealing mass of helpless 
desire. He could feel it by the way she reacted to his earlier touches. Even 
though she had resisted and was convinced in her own mind that she was a 
sweet conservative wife, true to her husband in all respects, he could 
detect a latent hot streak in her that had just never been turned on. Well, 
he'd make sure she got turned on tonight and he could think of nothing 
better than having a cute little hot pants like this in the neighborhood 
that he could sneak over and grab a little piece of anytime he got the urge. 

Carol's body began to involuntarily react. There was no longer any reason to 
fight the lewd flames of desire coursing through her veins. She had lost the 
battle against the obscene feelings and even the agonizing thought of her 
total surrender sent chills running along the base of her spine as she felt 
the slow rhythm of Harry Burns' cock begin skewering wetly into her. 

Her whole body twitched and writhed beneath him and she groaned incessantly 
up into the moistness of his mouth, shoving her tongue with a sudden 
complete abandon deep into his throat. Low hums of passionate servile 
acceptance came in torrents from deep in her chest, her face contorted with 
passion, mouth working, neck straining, nostrils flared, a light sweat 
breaking out on her forehead under the now disheveled soft blonde hair. 

Harry slipped his hands down her sides and slid them under the soft smooth 
globes of her moving buttocks, grasping them harshly, one in each hand. He 
remembered with lust-inciting clarity the tight shorts she had worn in the 
backyard that day and the thoughts he had had of holding them like this. The 
realization that they were his now to do with as he wished, drove him to 
greater frenzy. 

They were flexing and unflexing, oozing around his fingers as he pressed his 
hands tightly into them. He jerked her harder to his loins and felt her 
pulling her thighs back a little more, the moist wet hole of her cunt 
flowering open to receive his cock to greater and greater depths. 

The pain was gone now and her legs on either side of his impaling rod of 
flesh were jerking and quivering in uncontrolled abandon. Her eyes were 
closed and her tongue worked and slavered up into his mouth as small mewling 
sounds of velvety pleasure rumbled from her throat. The cords in her neck 
and thighs stood out hard and tense as she writhed beneath him from the 
intensity of her feeling. There was no longer any thought of anything but 
the delicious sensation of lying beneath this man who was fucking her 
against her will and giving back to him what he was giving her. 

Harry slaved above her, moving suddenly into longer smooth strokes that 
brought his cock almost all the way out of her clasping vagina on the 
backstroke and then thrusting forward into her uplifted buttocks again until 
he could feel the harsh slap of his balls against the unprotected crevice of 
her anus. He grinned, at the thought of further humiliation and slid his 
fingers down over the tight skin of her ass and found the small puckered 
anus cradled defenselessly below. It was soft and warm and he could feel it 
working with the movement of her buttocks pushing against his loins. 

He pushed into it with a sudden quick movement feeling the soft rubbery 
flesh yielding before his attack. 

"Oooooh," she gasped, the sound tumbling from her lips in painful protest. 

He thrust harder, taking pleasure in hearing her noises of subjugation. 

"Ooooooooooh!" she groaned louder this time from the further outrage against 
her defenseless asshole. 

But there was no respite. 

He worked his finger around inside, stretching the rubbery softness wider 
and wider as he ground into her. He slipped another finger in and felt the 
tight resistance give way as it moved into the soft warm depths. 

The deep guttural noises coming from her chest slowed into whimpers of pain 
for a moment and then slowly subsided to be replaced by greater moans of 
pleasure as her anus slowly became accustomed to the strange unnatural 
invasion. 

He smiled a smile of triumph into her wet sucking mouth as he felt her begin 
slowly screwing her rectum back on his fingers as he probed them 
methodically around the warm rubbery depths. She was hopelessly impaled 
between his hard throbbing cock in her vagina and his fingers shoved tightly 
in her asshole. And now, moaning and mewling beneath him, she began twisting 
and squealing in abandon under the double ravishment of her loins. 

He slid his other hand slowly up from the smooth rounded cheek of her ass to 
where his cock was sliding smoothly in and out of her pussy and could feel 
the soft hair-lined folds clasped tight to his rampaging cock and he could 
sense their softness pulling and giving with each long, hard, jack-hammer 
thrust into her. 

He fondled and played with the contracting lips of her pussy where he 
entered her, bringing softer moans of abandoned sensation from her mouth and 
at the same time he could feel the ever widening passage of her vagina 
flowering in greedy desire to swallow the whole of his cock plunging far 
inside her. 

He quickened his thrusts, hot and pulsating and deep, as she thrashed her 
body beneath him. She was ready to cum, he could feel it as her legs on 
either side of him jerked wide and up. He ripped his fingers from her rectum 
with a wet hissing sound and pressed his hands behind her knees pushing them 
back and hard down against the mattress on either side of her shoulders. The 
plane of her crotch was wide open to the pile-driving thrusts of his loins 
as he smacked brutally into her. 

"Oh, oh, oh," she chanted beneath him, her face contorted in an 
unrecognizable mask of wild abandon passion. 

He grunted and groaned and quickened his stroke, grinding hard and deep so 
that his cock bored far up into the hidden, untouched recesses of her womb. 
Her breasts heaved and quivered up against the pressure of his chest, the 
tiny hardened nipples digging into him like buttons on a coat. 

And suddenly, she shivered under him! 

"Oh God! ... Oh God! I'm cumming! Cumming! Ooooooooh, Ooooooooh!" 

He felt her cunt opening around him and warm gushes of wet sticky liquid 
flooding hot around his pistoning cock. He thrust faster, digging deep, deep 
inside her. He wanted her to remember this all her life, and worked to make 
it true. 

He felt her jerk up towards him several times, the lips of her cunt working 
and sucking at his penis as though trying to milk him dry. Her breath was 
coming in short desperate gasps and he thrust deep again feeling suddenly 
his own hot, wet sperm shoot from the top of his cock far into her soft, 
quivering belly. Their juices mingled deep down inside in a wet pool of joy 
and passion that Carol had never known could exist. 

Her legs went limp all of a sudden and fell out to the sides, splayed 
obscenely on either side of his still heaving body. Her heart pounded in her 
chest as though it would burst. Her body was beaten and satiated as it never 
had been before and the sudden wave of shame and humiliation returned to her 
again as she remembered where she was and who was lying on top of her with 
his thick penis still buried deep inside her still gently palpitating 
vagina. Again tears stained her cheeks as she saw the obscene picture they 
made in the mirrored ceiling above. Her, lying with her arms and legs spread 
wide apart and his body covering hers between them in the age old position 
of the conquering man. Well, she had been fucked, and fucked good, just as 
Jean warned her and now all she wanted to do was get away from this horrible 
place as fast as she could. Even though she had caught her husband in the 
midst of making love to this man's wife, it gave her no excuse. He must 
never know, never. 

"Like it, baby?" Harry lifted his head above hers and grinned down at her. 

"Yes Harry," she said coldly, "Now let me up. I want to go home." 

"In a minute, baby, in a minute," he smiled. "I ain't even pulled it out 
yet, see." 

He throbbed his deflating rod gently in her vagina. 

Carol groaned from the further indignity, throwing her arm over her eyes to 
blot out the closeness of his face over hers. It was enough to have been so 
weak and to have allowed her body to surrender to the crudeness of this 
horrible man whose cum lay hot and sticky deep in her belly but to have to 
listen to him talk about it afterwards was just impossible. 

"Harry, please, let me up, please," she whimpered. "I have to go before Bob 
leaves here and finds me not at home." 

"What are you worried about? He's gettin' his, ain't he, and from my wife 
too. Turn about's fair play." 

"I know, I know," she pleaded trying to get through to him. "But it's 
different with a man. He could never forgive me." 

Outside, Bob had found himself moving nervously on the couch as he watched 
the hazy body of the blonde girl writhing in wild abandoned passion as Harry 
Burns fucked her. He had never seen such an exhibition of sheer, 
unadulterated lust and it was getting to him. It hadn't been long since he 
fucked Burns' wife but even so he could feel his prick hardening again at 
the sight of the two bodies moistly fused together on the screen. The waiter 
had switched the camera a few minutes ago to the one at the foot of the bed 
and Bob had felt ripples of life coming into him again as a perfect view 
came on the screen of Harry's cock buried deep inside the girl's cunt. For 
some reason, this one had been in good focus and even the tiny red flanges 
of her tight pussy could be seen clasping hungrily around his cock as it 
slipped in and out of the soft surrounding of light blonde pubic hair. Bob 
had watched hypnotized as the tight wet cunt lips had skewered up and down 
the rigid pole of flesh following it out as it withdrew and disappearing 
back inside as he thrust into her again. Then the camera had gone back to 
the one over the bed where they had a view of them from the top. It was out 
of focus again and her face couldn't be made out too clearly except that she 
was screaming for it. She had to be, her legs were drawn back as far as they 
could go and her hands were digging into his buttocks trying to pull him 
deeper inside her. God, she was a hot little bitch, hotter than anything he 
had ever seen before. 

"Do I get her next?" Bob whispered over to Marsha who sat quietly with a 
strange secret smile on her face. 

"Mmmmm, Yes, I suppose so if you like." And then added with a twinkle in her 
eyes. "Do you think there'll be anything left after Harry gets through?" 

"God, at this rate, I don't know," he answered as he saw the writhing couple 
begin racing wildly for their final orgasm. "But I sure as hell hope so." 

Marsha pushed a button by the couch and the waiter came over from behind the 
bar and leaned over her. 

"Peter, I think the set needs focusing a little. Would you take care of it 
for us, please. And switch the camera around a little, we'd like a little 
variety in the positions." 

"Why didn't he fix it before, couldn't he see it wasn't working right?" Bob 
said half angrily. They had missed a lot of the best of the action. 

"Ready for a surprise, dear?" Marsha smiled at him. 

"There's nothing you can do anymore that would surprise me," he smiled back. 

"Oh no," she laughed, "Then watch." 

He looked back toward the screen as the blurred lines around the figures 
smacking against each other in uncontrolled passion on the bed suddenly 
began clearing away. The camera pointed straight down from above the couple, 
the girls face looking straight up at it from over the man's shoulder on top 
of her. The last shadowy lines faded and the set was brought into sharp 
clear focus, a perfect picture of the girl's lust contorted face. 

Bob's heart stopped. 

His head whirled in disbelief at the vision that 'flickered suddenly before 
his eyes on the giant screen. It was Carol's face staring up at the camera 
with glazed unseeing eyes. Her mouth was wide open wide, gasping fish-like 
up into the room. 

"My God, it can't be," he groaned. 

The view switched to the camera at the foot of the bed again and the thick 
fleshy cock of Harry Burns was outlined clearly pistoning wetly into the 
hair-lined opening of his wife's cunt. He was holding her legs back far over 
her head so that he had the greatest possible access to her helpless 
widespread loins. Her buttocks were presented up to him in white defenseless 
sacrifice as his monstrously thick cock speared in and out of her without 
the slightest grain of mercy. His finger was sunk deep in Carol's tiny 
puckered anus. 

It's a mistake, it's a mistake, the thoughts flashed through his mind faster 
than he could think. It's someone else. It's got to be. 

But the view changed again and Carol's panting, pleading face was again 
clearly visible, egging her laboring lover on, her arms and ankles locked 
tightly around his sweating body, riding the wave with him. 

Bob sat frozen, as he saw her begin screaming her first shrill sounds of 
orgasm as Marsha's husband screwed her mercilessly. Her legs kicked back 
wide until he thought Carol's crotch would split down the middle from the 
cruel distorted position but Harry Burns had reached up with both hands and 
held her knees back cruelly up over her shoulders and tightly down to the 
mattress until she was bent double. God, he would kill her. How could she 
take it so deep? 

His question was answered as he saw her final jerks of fulfillment and 
watched the hollowing muscles of Harry's buttocks as he pumped his lewd, 
sticky sperm deep up into Carol's quivering belly. 

Bob's first impulse when his wife's face had first come on the screen, was 
to leap from the couch and race to her rescue. But a moments confused wait 
showed that this was no rape. 

She was loving every minute of being fucked by another man! 

The goddamn bitch, his mind repeated over and over, she's loving it! The 
dirty little whore, the dirty little whore, she had never put out for him 
like that. All the time he had thought she was just a cold innocent babe in 
arms and had used all the patience he had possessed to try and break down 
the barriers she had thrown up against sex. But it had never worked. She had 
always remained cold and impassive to his lovemaking co-operative, yes, like 
she was doing him a favor, but still cold and impassive. 

And now - now this. She had turned on with their neighbor like she had never 
had a prick shoved in her before. Well, by God, he was going to get his 
share of it tonight too and maybe break her damn little unfaithful neck in 
the process. 

"Surprised," Marsha chuckled softly next to him sensing his hurt and anger. 

"How did she get here?" he asked with fire in his voice. 

"Oh, Harry dropped by your house and suggested it." 

"She didn't object?" 

"Did she look like it?" Marsha laughed. "Harry said she almost raped him on 
your living room couch before he could get her out of the house." 

"Take me to her," he said harshly, the anger rising to a fever pitch inside 
his chest. 

"Alright, if you promise no fights," Marsha agreed with a smile, "That's 
against the club rules." 

"No, no fights. I'm just going to fuck the shit out of the little bitch." 

"Well, just walk on down to the Red room and knock twice on the door," she 
grinned wickedly. "I'm sure she'll be very surprised and happy to see you." 

"Not when I'm through with her she won't," Bob shot back at her as he rose 
from the couch. 

Carol lay immobile under the heavy relaxed body of Harry Burns whose 
sweating flesh oozed over her supple form in collapsed satiation. She could 
feel his penis slowly deflating inside her belly. Her vagina felt flooded 
and used as it never had before and she wanted to close her legs and rest 
the ache that was forming there. She had pleaded with him to let her up but 
he had not responded. He was enjoying to the fullest his brutal and complete 
conquest of her proud young body and was in no hurry to withdraw from its 
warm wet cavern. She lay quietly, afraid to move for fear that it would 
excite him again and cause his thick huge penis to harden once more deep 
inside her. The thought of having to go through the horrible humiliation 
again of his spewing his hot white cum inside her would be too much. She 
would not be able to stand it and lay still hoping he would let her go 
without subjecting her to further indignities. 

She was hardly conscious of the knocking on the door until she felt Harry's 
spent body stirring above her. She felt his withdrawal, his now soft penis 
slipping from her vagina with a soft, wet, sucking noise. A cool rush of air 
flowed through her loins and over her body when he rose. A long sigh of 
drawn out relief breathed from her heaving chest and she closed her legs in 
relief feeling the pain subside a little in the stretched muscles of her 
thighs. Her eyes opened and suddenly the realization hit her that he was 
going to open the door. 

"Don't," she almost screamed at him. "I don't have any clothes on." 

"Don't worry, baby, whoever it is won't mind the sight of you one bit," he 
said as he turned the key in the lock and swung the door wide open. 

Carol struggled to raise herself from the bed and then froze to the 
mattress, her eyes opened wide in disbelief. 

It was Bob! 

"Oh God," she moaned in humiliation at her husband seeing her like this, 
naked and her belly still filled with the wetness of another man's sperm. 
She opened her mouth in horror, but was too paralyzed with fright to scream. 
Instead she jerked her arm up over her face and collapsed in a sobbing, 
helpless heap back down on the mattress. There was nothing else she could 
do, her face reddening from the shame of his eyes locked coldly on her 
broken and used body. 

"Yes, bitch, it's your husband coming to pay his respects." He snarled 
coldly as he stepped inside. 

"She's all yours, sport," Harry Burns said contemptuously and walked from 
the room without bothering with his clothes. Bob did not bother to look at 
him as he squeezed past him in the doorway. Even though he had just finished 
doing the same thing to his wife he was not certain he wouldn't lose control 
from the anger coursing through him and smash Burns' arrogant face into a 
pulp. 

"Bob, darling," Carol blubbered from the bed, finding somehow the courage to 
remove her arm from her eyes and look up at him. "You don't understand, you 
don't understand!" 

He walked over by the side of the bed and stood looking down at her with a 
hard, contemptuous hatred in his eyes. He did not speak. Carol quivered on 
the mattress her fear and humiliation too great to allow her to move. 

"Darling, listen to me, please listen to me," she sobbed up at him. 

Her words sounded pathetic and useless even to her own ears. 

His eyes trailed the length of her body, coming to rest at her thighs where 
thin sticky trails of the lewd sperm Harry Burns had just pumped into her 
could still be seen glistening wetly in the dim light of the room. The lewd 
reminder incited him more. His face contorted with a cruel and unbending 
ruthlessness that she had never seen there before. 

"Darling, let's go home and talk," she pleaded. 

He still did not speak. He just stood silently with a hate-filled expression 
lining his contorted lips. 

"Say something, darling, say something," she prayed to him in desperation. 
She didn't know him now and her shame and humiliation were replaced by the 
fear that he was going to kill. She almost wished he would. "You fucking 
bitch." 

He spoke the words so hard and cruelly that she winced from their impact. He 
leaned down over the bed and grasped her shoulders hard in his hands digging 
his fingers deep into the softness of her tortured flesh. He held his face 
within inches of hers. 

"How many other men have fucked you since we've been married?" he spat. 
"You're nothing but a dirty little whore. A whore, that's what you are. 
Well, I'm gonna pay for mine this time and see if it makes it more lively, 
like with Harry Burns. I want two dollars worth and it better be good." 

He straightened up and pulled two one dollar bills from his pocket and threw 
them on her sobbing form as she lay quivering beneath his vile verbal 
attack. Through her bitter anguish Carol could hear the sound of a zipper 
being drawn down and then the movement of the bed sagging under his weight 
as he crawled on it. He closed his hands tightly around her throat and 
pulled her mouth to him. But the sudden movement and the savage pressure of 
his hands on her throat caused her to jerk her face away. 

"You bitch," he spat, "I didn't see you squirming away from him." 

He slapped her hard, flat across the cheek, jerking her head to the side so 
hard she thought certainly he had broken something. She tried to twist away 
from his madness and rolled desperately across the bed. 

He caught her by the hair and jerked her back. The next slap was behind the 
head and Carol felt as though he had broken her head. 

"Bob! Bob! Please, please, you don't know what you're doing," she pleaded in 
hopeless desperation. 

"I know bitch, I know," he spat between tightly clenched teeth. "I've 
finally learned the game." 

He slapped her again, this time across the face when she had turned to plead 
with him bringing a harsh stinging sensation to her skin as though she were 
being doused with raw gasoline. She fought and struggled now for fear he was 
going to do something desperate in his rage, kicking and scratching with all 
the remaining strength she had left after the previous struggle with Harry 
Burns. They were a tangled mass of arms and limbs and suddenly without 
warning they rolled from the bed and fell to the floor. Carol was on the 
bottom and felt the brutal impact hard against her back. Bob levered up and 
straddled her stomach landing blow after blow across her defenseless face. 
She felt herself losing consciousness and managed to gasp through her pain. 

"Bob! Bob! You're killing me! You're killing me!" 

He snapped to his senses without speaking and fumbled his belt from his 
pants. He stood up over her and began lashing it across the whiteness of her 
belly and wildly heaving breasts. She rolled to her stomach in a desperate 
attempt to escape the cruel leather cutting into her skin but he placed his 
foot in the small of her back, pinning her helplessly to the floor, and 
continued raining the hard frenzied blows across her back and quivering 
buttocks. Then, as she groaned in pain and humiliation from the excruciating 
punishment he suddenly stopped as quickly as he had begun. 

"Now, baby, I want my two bucks worth," he spat down at her shaking 
spread-eagle form. "And do it like a whore, not like a wife." 

"Oh no, darling, not like this, not like this," she sobbed up at him. The 
tears streamed now in flowing wet rivulets down the sides of her cheeks and 
in spite of her pain and pleading she could feel him pulling her legs 
brutally apart on the rug, not even bothering to lift her to the bed. 

He dropped to his knees between her thighs adjusting his hard throbbing cock 
in his hands. And then, as suddenly as he had begun hitting her before, he 
fell forward across her body and rammed his cock deep into her still 
sperm-filled cunt. Though she wasn't prepared for the sudden onslaught, the 
wetness from the fucking she had just received from Harry Burns lubricated 
her and eased his otherwise searing entry. 

He began immediately to fuck into her with hard brutal strokes, not caring 
about her pain or tears as she groaned and twisted in agony beneath his 
flailing body. He reached out to the side of his hips and shoved his hands 
under the backs of her thighs lifting them up and back until she was bent 
almost double and her knees scraped the floor up over her shoulders. She 
groaned again and again in anguish as he thrust into her inhumanly contorted 
body with long deep strokes that travelled the full length of his hard 
throbbing penis. His driving loins smacked hard against the plane of her 
upturned buttocks, buffeting her head harshly back against the side of the 
bed. The smack of his hips against hers resounded through the room like 
claps of thunder from a storm building menacingly over the distant 
mountains. 

"Oh, Bob, Bob, you can't, you can't," she moaned on helplessly beneath him. 

But there was no response from his growling twisted lips only the pain of an 
extra hard thrust up against her cervix that Carol was certain had torn her 
deep inside. She had thought the beginning with Harry Burns before she had 
lost control of herself was horrible, but this was worse. To lie beneath her 
own husband and be treated like the lowest of prostitutes, used to vent his 
own lust and anger against, this was a thousand times more degrading. Her 
thoughts flowed as though she had no feeling left in her tortured nerve 
ends, they had been used and raped to the point that nothing came through 
anymore. There was no pain left in her body to bring forth, only the 
horrible humiliation and anguish of the hateful rape of her body by her own 
husband and she lay passively, no longer moving or caring beneath him. 

"Move it, bitch," he suddenly commanded through his panting mouth. "I want 
my two buck's worth." 

He dropped his hands to the softness of tier buttocks and cupped them 
tightly, digging his finger nails hard into the resilient flesh to emphasize 
with physical pain the words he had spoken. 

"Move it," he snarled again when there was no response to his first command. 
"It's just another fuck like all the others, only I got it coming to me 
legal like!" 

"No, No Bob, it's not true!" she squealed beneath his punishing impalement. 
"You don't understand! You don't understand!" 

"Move it!" he hissed through tightly clenched teeth. 

Carol sobbed and began a slow mechanical grinding of her buttocks up against 
his thrusting loins to escape the painful digging fingers cutting into her 
flesh. Small red welts followed their path and her shame and humiliation 
grew with each further moment that brought his orgasm closer. He was going 
to spew it into her, into her in anger rather than love, and the thought 
made her wish he had killed her. It would have been far better than this 
horrible rape of her body by a crazed man that was as much a stranger to her 
as Harry Burns had been when he had taken her the same way. The only 
difference was she felt no rising tide of passion overcoming her body now 
the way it had before, with her neighbor's husband and the strange thought 
entered her mind that she had rather Harry Burns had done it to her again 
than be taken by her own husband rutting like a savage primeval animal above 
her. 

He suddenly quickened his thrusts again and jerked into her as though his 
body had been taken by a spasm of death. He kneaded and dug her flesh 
beneath him without being conscious of her cries of pain and humiliation. He 
wanted to destroy her, destroy this dirty bitch who had so deceived him all 
these years. His cock expanded and grew inside her until he thought it would 
burst, burst from the hate and anger that ruled his body now. The pain was 
long and half-sweet until distant moments later it exploded ... 

Carol cringed beneath him as she felt the first thin hot spurts of his sperm 
begin emptying deep into her raw tortured vagina. The dreaded thought that 
she might get pregnant and not have the faintest idea of which had done it 
crossed her mind as she felt the warm sticky fluid filling her as Harry 
Burns sperm had a few minutes before. The twin hot pools mingled evilly 
together in her quivering belly making her feel more debauched and miserable 
than she had ever felt in her life. 

He crawled from between her legs, a thin trail of sperm trailing from the 
end of his deflating penis. She lay with her eyes clenched tightly shut, 
beaten and humiliated on the floor. She made no attempt to move as she heard 
the sudden harsh sound of his zipper being closed and the last cruel words 
erupting from his lips. 

"You're nothing but a cheating little bitch. And, by God, I'm not going to 
let you forget it as long as I live." 

And then he left the room. 

She lay motionless for a long period of time afterwards, unable and not 
wanting to move. Her legs were still spread wide as he had left them and her 
loins wet and raw from the dual raping they had just been subjected to. 
Anyone who wanted to could have come in the room at that moment and dropped 
down on her and fucked her to their hearts content. She would not have 
resisted or cared, nothing mattered anymore. Her whole world had exploded 
cruelly in her face within a matter of the last few hours and the full 
impact of its awful meaning had not yet penetrated her tortured mind. A few 
hours ago she was still a faithful and innocent wife who had never had 
anyone other than her husband and now she lay here with the lewd sperm of 
two complete strangers, and her husband had been a stranger, lying deep 
inside the secret recesses of her body. 

Oh God, she wished she were dead. She wished they could just come and take 
her away now and bury her forever so that she would never have to face the 
horrible, cruel world again. But ... she wasn't. She was alive, perhaps 
barely, but she was alive and would have to make the best of it. 

She moved, pulling her limbs together experimentally to see if she could 
still control them. The pain and ache was horrible and she winced as she 
pulled herself slowly to the sitting position, pausing there to allow her 
aching muscles to adjust to the movement before she put her hands on the 
side of the bed and pulled herself in anguish to a standing position. 

She saw herself in the full length mirror and studied with uncaring 
detachment the bruises and welts that marked her smooth white skin. She 
reached up and hesitantly touched her breasts, feeling the dull throb from 
the marks surrounding her tender nipples aching all the way through her 
chest as though she had been beaten with a horsewhip. 

She stood for a moment longer, eyeing her piteous form in the mirror and 
suddenly understanding with all her being the feeling of the words she had 
heard spoken so often: "raped and abandoned." Well, she understood exactly 
what they meant now, pulling herself to the foot of the bed to pick up her 
clothes. They were still lying in the piteous heap in which they had fallen 
when Harry Burns or rather, "Stud Burns," she smiled wryly, had stripped her 
helpless body naked an eternity ago. A picture of those clothes lying there 
in the disheveled, unorganized pile could tell without another word the 
whole story of her sudden downfall. The phrase, "one picture is worth a 
thousand words," ran crazily through her mind. 

She struggled slowly into her wrinkled clothing and opened the door, turning 
at the same time and taking a final look at the room that would live in her 
mind forever as the symbol of her shame and degradation. The crumpled two 
one dollar bills lay still on the bed where her husband had thrown them. As 
an afterthought, she went back inside and picking them up, stuffed them into 
her purse. 

She walked up the stairs and out of the house without seeing anyone. They 
were all too pre-occupied with other things. The cold air outside refreshed 
her a little and she was happy to see the lights in her house were not on. 
She could not face Bob now and thoughts of packing and leaving tonight 
before he returned flickered quickly through her mind. But she was too 
exhausted and beaten to care, besides, she could sleep in the other bedroom 
and lock the door. He would be too drunk and tired himself from whatever he 
was doing now to give her any more trouble, tonight anyway. 

One thing, she resolved to herself, her life was going to be different from 
now on and she wasn't going to let her husband out of this easily. He was 
going to pay for all the indignation he had heaped upon her defenseless body 
and mind tonight, and ... he was going to pay dearly. 

The long high-ceilinged room buzzed with the low, sophisticated conversation 
of a large intellectual group of people. White-coated waiters hurried 
through the crowd balancing trays of drinks in their hands and stopping 
periodically to replenish the supply of those that held empty glasses. A 
huge fire burned in the Victorian fireplace that was almost as large as the 
entrance door itself. 

Carol marveled at the wealth displayed here. She couldn't recall ever having 
been in a home that exhibited so much of it, particularly in such subtle 
quiet taste. The paintings were the most impressive thing about it. Masters, 
all of them, sat against the reserved background of hand carved walnut 
paneling. This, she mused, was wealth in its grandest sense. 

"And," she listened dutifully as her host spoke, "the Renoir hanging to the 
right of the mantelpiece has been in our family since the artist painted it. 
He gave it to my grandmother as a token of her sponsorship of one of his 
shows in Paris. This of course, was when he was a complete unknown." 

"My," she spoke as the short graying man in his late fifties paused to sip 
from his drink, "your family certainly seems to have an interesting history, 
Mr. Thurman." 

"Please call me, Randy, Carol my dear, we don't stand on formality here," he 
quickly corrected her. 

"All right then, Randy, I will," she smiled sweetly over the top of her 
glass at Randolph Thurman the Third. His eyes wandering secretly over the 
curves of her body had not passed her notice. 

That's good, she thought, smiling at the polite conversation he kept up in a 
steady stream to keep her occupied and from wandering away with anyone else. 
She felt flattered. Most of the men, at one time or another in the hour or 
so she and Bob had been here, had made one kind of pass or another at her. 
Strangely enough, she was enjoying her new kind of role in open society. 
Until last week when she had her eyes opened at the Burns house she had 
always been the passive one at affairs like this, but no more. This was the 
new Carol, the new one who knew what the world was all about and how to go 
about getting it. She and Bob had made their peace after several days of 
ignoring each other when for some reason Marsha Burns had let slip about the 
plan with the lipstick on the shirt and the tape recorder. He had almost 
crawled on his knees apologizing to her and explaining the entire sordid 
reason he had ended up there in the first place. She had accepted his 
apology but still refused to move her things back to their bedroom. She had 
set up house there and pasted the crumpled two dollar bills over her 
dressing table mirror to remind her of what he had put her through and of 
what she had vowed as she had stumbled her way into the house after being 
screwed half senseless by those two wild men that night. She didn't care 
what the reason was for all that happened, the cold plain fact was, it had 
happened. 

Bob still hadn't realized it but nothing could ever again be quite the same 
with them. Something had changed in both of them and she was afraid the 
major change was in herself. She liked the house they were living in and the 
way the people were able to live who surrounded them. Obviously, to get 
ahead and stay there Bob would have to do well with them. 

Well, she had promised herself that he damn well would, and she would do all 
in her power to insure that he did. 

California was a community property state where the wife had a right to half 
the husband's earnings and she had made it quite clear to him that she 
expected her half at the end of each month deposited in her own account. She 
was going to watch that crumpled two dollars that had started the whole 
thing grow by leaps and bounds and after it had grown to an amount she 
thought reasonable, then she would consider where she and Bob stood. 

She had made all of this quite clear to him but she was certain he still 
didn't believe it. Well, tonight she would show him how to land an account 
without lifting a finger and would make him squirm at the same time. She 
would show him she meant what she had said. 

"Well, my dear," her host said finally, "that is the complete history of my 
family. What do you think of it?" 

"Why it was just a marvelous story, Randy," she lied, hoping against hope he 
wouldn't ask her any questions about it. She hadn't really heard one word he 
had said, she had been so busy with her own thoughts. She would have to 
watch this wandering mind of hers. If she was going to get anywhere with 
these people she would have to pay attention and learn as much about them as 
she could. 

"Now," he said, patting her shoulder warmly, "I've told you all about 
myself, let's hear something about you." 

"Well," Carol answered with a feigned shyness, "there isn't really much to 
say. Certainly nothing that would be as interesting as your background." 

"Oh I'm certain you're exaggerating. A beautiful woman like yourself 
certainly hasn't passed all these years in total obscurity." 

"Mmmm," she fluttered her eyes at him, "I'm afraid so. Just a quiet little 
housewife, trying to keep a working husband happy." 

"Well, I should say you are doing a fine job, isn't that him over there 
talking with my wife, Susan?" 

Thurman pointed toward the fireplace where Bob was engaged in conversation 
with the small blonde woman he had met at the Burns and several other 
couples. 

"Why, yes, yes it is." Carol had lost track of him in the last hour as they 
had each circulated in their own way. 

"Your wife is lovely," she added after studying her for a moment. 

"Yes, I think your husband likes her too," he smiled with a twinkle in his 
eye. "He showed quite a preference for her at the Burns' party the other 
night." 

"W-Were you there," she almost dropped her drink in surprise. Bob had told 
her they were invited to a party at an important prospect's house, but he 
hadn't explained that he had met them at the Burns' house. 

"Yes, I was, dear. And I must say, that was a brilliant little exhibition 
you and Harry put on for us. I looked all over for you afterwards but you 
just disappeared." 

"I-I was pretty tired. That was my first time, you know," she said 
recovering her composure rapidly. 

"Yes, I know. Harry explained we would have to wear masks for your first 
initiation and we don't usually follow such formalities in our little 
get-togethers. I thought at the time it was rather strange and still don't 
understand, but it isn't important. It did add a little variety to the 
evening." 

"Well," Carol smiled, "Let's just say I was a little shy the first time." 

"Are you still?" he grinned across at her. 

"Not in the least," she smiled back. 

"Good then, we'll work something out later, all right?" 

"Mmmmm," she crinkled her nose at him. "I'd love to." 

"Your husband has taken quite a shine to Susan, and knowing her, I think 
she'll keep him occupied." 

"Randy," a vengeful thought came to her mind. "Do you think we could do it 
in the same room. Both couples at the same time I mean?" 

"You aren't shy any more, are you my little bunny?" his eyes lit up in 
surprise. "I suppose we can work it out. We have two double beds in our 
bedroom and I know Susan won't mind. Will your husband object?" 

"No, he won't," she assured, "But let's make it a surprise for him. He's 
never seen me with another man, except of course, on that screen. You work 
it out with your wife that she takes him in the room first and turns out the 
light, all right?" 

"My dear, to get you, I'd do anything," he smiled and taking her hand 
squeezed it tight. "Come now, I want you to meet some of the others before 
we play." 

"Oh Randy," Carol said suddenly, holding him back by the arm. "You do know 
that Bob is in the investment business, don't you?" 

"Of course, I do." He smiled. "You know the people like us stick together 
and Harry Burns says he's a very competent young man. I'll let him handle 
all of our business from now on. Providing, of course," he added with a 
twinkle in his eye, "you're as good to me as you were Harry." 

"You promise?" 

"Absolutely, first thing Monday morning. But," he added, "I'm not an easy 
man to please." 

Carol shuddered slightly from this statement as she followed behind him 
toward a group engaged in an animated argument over something. She hoped too 
much wouldn't be demanded of her, she had never engaged in any unnatural 
acts such as the thing she had seen Harry Burns' wife doing to Bob the other 
night but supposed if she drank enough at first and really had to, she could 
go through with it. 

"Gentlemen," Randy said interrupting the conversation. "I'd like to present 
Mrs. Carol Benson. Her husband is the new investment banking head for 
Jordan's bank. A very bright young man who is going places from what I hear. 
I'm going to leave her with you for awhile while I circulate among the 
guests. But I warn you," he shook his finger good-naturedly, "I saw her 
first and no hanky panky while I'm doing my duties." 

Carol blushed slightly at his statement, but quickly recovered herself as 
the three men each introduced themselves in turn. She found herself 
wondering, with a flush inside her, if any of these had seen her obscene 
performance with Harry Burns the other night. She was sure not all of these 
people were part of the group as it was too formal to be one of those mass 
swap things but still she wondered which they were. She would be glad when 
she found out so she wouldn't find herself blushing every time she met 
someone new. 

"We were just on the subject of Vietnam, Carol. What do you think about it? 
Our friend, Roger, here is one of those doves that wants us out of there 
right now, no guarantees, just out." 

"Gentlemen," she laughed sweetly, "I'm just a poor ignorant housewife and 
know nothing about these faraway problems. You fight it out among 
yourselves." 

She could tell that Roger, obviously a professor, was reaching the fighting 
point. He seemed so intense about his beliefs. 

"Listen, Peter, the only thing I'm saying is that we have no right to be in 
there killing women and children when it has nothing to do with us. Let them 
decide among themselves how they want their government to be," he said 
hotly. 

"If you feel so humanitarian about it then take a look at what would happen 
if we did leave them alone. How many South Vietnamese do you think they 
would execute immediately?" 

Peter continued without giving Roger a chance to answer. 

"Look how many have died in Russia, China, and Cuba. The first thing these 
people do is shoot the leaders and they are left with nothing to lead but 
the sheep. It's easy to bend sheep to your way of thinking. A thinking man 
like yourself wouldn't live two minutes if they took over." 

"That may be true," Roger replied, the blood flowing to his face in 
disagreement, "but nothing gives us the right to kill people. All those 
people want to do is live in peace and be left alone." 

"Chamberlain was a peace at any price man in 1936 too. That only cost the 
world some twenty or twenty five million people killed a few years later." 

"You mean you would let our country play God and decide to kill thousands of 
men on the very vague possibility that it might prevent another war? That's 
ridiculous," he snorted angrily. 

"My good boy," Peter ignored his sputtering. "Man is a very imperfect animal 
and the only guide one has for the future is history. Well history says it 
has always happened that way. You let them succeed in Vietnam and the rest 
of Asia will follow within a matter of years. We shall also have lost the 
faith of all those people who depend on us now. Whether we like it or not, 
we are playing father to a good part of the world. That's always been the 
curse of being strong. We have no choice, Roger my boy." 

"That still gives us no reason to send our boys over there to be killed." 

Carol could see this little argument was likely to end up in a brawl and 
wished Randy would come back and get her out of it before it happened. She 
didn't understand the entire thing anyway, except that what Peter was saying 
seemed to make more sense than Roger's argument. Her eyes searched around 
the room for Randy and she inadvertently spotted Bob following Susan through 
the arched door at the far end. She smiled to herself, thinking of the 
little surprise in store for him later on. This would go a long way toward 
gaining the revenge she had sworn the other night. 

"Roger," Peter continued, "You have got to admit there are a lot worse 
things than dying. Perhaps you don't think so but I do. For instance, 
watching your family starve to death or be humiliated consistently. These 
are the reasons man has had wars from the beginning of time, to protect his 
family and the things he has worked for." 

"They have fought them for big business, that's why they have fought them," 
Roger objected violently. 

"Oh, horsecrap," Peter answered. "Big business is so controlled by 
government and unions they no longer matter. All the interests are the same. 
If the country is poor, the businesses in that country are poor; if the 
businesses are poor, then the people who work for them are poor. It's as 
simple as that. Why, did you realize," he shook his finger in Roger's face, 
"that the people in our so-called poverty rolls are better off than ninety 
percent of the people in the world. That is not something that happens by 
accident. It's hard work on the part of most people." 

"We still have people suffering from malnutrition from not getting the right 
things to eat," Roger defended. 

"Listen, boy, one more point, and then let's get on to something else. In 
any kind of society you'll find some people that can't make it to the 
grocery store a block away either because they're too stupid or too lazy. 
Now you've got to admit that setting up a trucking service to deliver to 
these people is going just a little bit too far. Make them walk like the 
rest of us." 

Carol breathed a sigh of relief as Randy walked up and slipped his arm 
through hers just as Roger opened his mouth to thrash back at Peter. It was 
an argument that she knew would go on all night and she had more important 
things to do. She had to get that account for Bob and at the same time give 
him back a little of his own medicine. 

"All right, fellows, you'll have to continue your little soap-box speeches 
without Carol's company," he smiled. "As host of this party I'm exercising 
my right to be boorish and spirit her away." 

Carol followed him gratefully into the next room which was the bar and also 
Thurman's trophy room. The walls were lined with the mounted heads of most 
of the big game animals she had read about or seen in the movies. It was 
quite impressive. 

"Thank you for the timely rescue. I'm such a nit when it comes to things 
like that," she said when they were standing at the bar. 

"To be perfectly frank, my dear, so are they. They will stand and talk for 
centuries about it and never arrive at any kind of conclusion. The silly 
thing is that they will never do anything about it either-just drink and 
talk. That's all." 

He laughed softly and shook his head. "What will you have?" 

"Do you have any of the green drink they served at the party the other 
night?" she asked hesitantly. 

"Of course, we have," and signaled to the barman for two Pernods. 

She didn't want to be too open about it but thought she had better have some 
kind of fortification to go through with this thing. She wasn't that brave 
just yet and did have some modesty left although she wondered now why she 
should worry about it with the position a lot of these people, including 
Thurman, had seen her in the other night. Evidently, they had switched the 
screen before Bob came in the room as Thurman had not mentioned it. She was 
grateful for that, it was bad enough that they had seen her with Burns 
without her husband's brutal assault too. 

"You like Pernod?" he smiled at her an understanding tone in his voice. 

"I like the feeling it gives, don't you?" 

"Yes, normally I do, but tonight I don't think I would really need it." 

She smiled as he ran his eyes appreciatively the full length of her body. 
She could feel a slight throb inside her as he undressed her with his eyes 
and had to admit to herself that she was looking forward to his making love 
to her. This would be the first time she had really willingly done it with 
another man other than her husband and was anxious to see if she would have 
the same reaction she had had with Burns when he had taken her against her 
will. The Pernod flowed smooth and cool down her throat and as she drained 
the glass she could feel it slowly taking hold. Thurman quickly ordered them 
another, sensing that she was becoming tense as the time drew nearer. He 
didn't want any changes of mind now. He had waited patiently all week for 
this chance after his wife had told him she had met the girl's husband at 
the party and invited them here tonight. 

"Susan should have our husband pretty well under way by now," Thurman said 
to her over the top of his glass. "And, my dear, I'm getting pretty 
impatient too. I've looked forward to this all week," he confessed. 

"I am too, now that I've seen you," Carol lied. She was still a little 
nervous but felt her courage returning rapidly with each sip of the milky 
white drink. Strange what it did to her person, she thought and remembered 
with bitter memory the lewd, obscene spectacle she must have made out of 
herself last week when she had lost control of herself and turned into a 
wild, frenzied animal. She wondered if it would happen this time and found 
herself hoping it would with Bob in the room. Anyway, this time it would be 
she who was doing it and not the drink or shock from discovering her husband 
with another man's wife. 

"I'm ready," she smiled, a little uncertainly in her voice. 

"Then drink up," Thurman said, "and follow me. We should catch them right in 
the middle of it." 

Carol tipped her drink and drained the glass, grateful for the warm 
lighthearted feeling it brought. Thurman took her hand and led her through a 
side door out the bar and up a flight of thickly carpeted stairs. He turned 
right at the landing and they walked along a hallway with many doors until 
they reached the end of the corridor. 

"Voila, our bedroom." 

He opened the door just enough for them to squeeze through without letting 
in too much light. Inside he took their glasses and she heard him place them 
somewhere in the darkness. She strained her ears to see if there were other 
noises in the room and felt herself begin to shake slightly from the first 
strange experience of going of her own free will into a room with a strange 
man for the purpose of making love to him. She listened harder. There was no 
sound. 

"I don't hear them," she whispered to Thurman as she felt him return to her 
side and touch her arm. 

"It's a suite of rooms," he whispered back, "The bedroom is off to the 
right." 

She expected him to take her hand and lead her there but instead his arms 
pulled her to him and his lips came moistly down on hers, his tongue probing 
wetly into her mouth. She sucked on it gently letting her body melt into his 
in the darkness. She could feel herself begin to tremble from the excitement 
of another man's kiss and her nervousness slowly faded. He held the kiss 
long and hard and she could suddenly feel a slight jerk where his loins 
pressed into the softness of her stomach. He was getting hard and she sensed 
a sudden tensing in her own breasts as the tips were smashed hard against 
his chest. 

"My God, I want to fuck you," he breathed into her ear. 

The word strangely excited her as it had when Harry Burns had first used it 
last week but this time it wasn't a fearful excitement, it was one she 
welcomed. She reached down between their bodies and boldly stroked his penis 
feeling more wicked than she ever had before. The tingling in her breasts 
dropped to her thighs and danced there magically for a moment as he sucked 
in his breath from her touch. 

"Take your dress off," he whispered hoarsely, unable to wait any longer. He 
guided her to a chair that she could just barely make out in the dimness of 
the light coming through the windows. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness 
now and she could distinguish the darkened forms of the furniture. 

Carol's hands trembled as she reached behind her and slid the zipper 
silently down from her neck to her buttocks. She lifted the dress over her 
head and dropped it softly back across the couch. She reached behind her 
again and unsnapped the brassiere, gasping suddenly, as the cool rush of air 
touched the tips of her breasts causing the tiny rounded nipples to jump 
into erection. She dropped it to the seat of the couch. Her near nakedness 
sent wicked chills through her flesh, exciting her as she had never been 
excited before. The thought that she would soon be writhing in passion under 
this man she hardly knew in a bed next to her husband added to the forbidden 
thrill. She could hear Thurman next to her struggling rapidly from his 
clothing and she smiled at his obvious impatience to get at her. Yes, she 
was going to enjoy tonight more than she ever had anything in the world. 

He reached for her in the darkness, his hands coming into contact with the 
nakedness of her shoulder first, the coolness of his hands causing her to 
jump. 

"No, not yet," she whispered. "I still have my panties and stockings on." 

"Leave your stockings and high heels on, we'll turn the light on later and I 
want to see you like that." 

She stripped her panties down over the fullness of her hips and thighs and 
stepped from them, dropping them with her other clothes on the couch. 

Thurman's hands reached out again in the darkness and began running over her 
naked flesh. She stood still, her arms at her sides, trembling from the 
wicked sensations running through her. He dropped his head to her breast, 
cupping it in his hand, and sucked the tiny throbbing nipple deep into his 
wet mouth. Carol groaned and swayed in the darkness, almost falling. 

"Don't, don't do it here." She pushed his head away reluctantly. "I want you 
to do it where my husband can hear us." 

Without speaking, he took her hand quickly and led her through a door at the 
side of the room. It was darker here as the blinds were closed and no light 
at all came through the windows. He stopped for a moment to get his bearings 
and Carol held her breath. 

She could hear them! 

They were small sounds, scarcely audible even in the almost total silence of 
the big room, but ... they were unmistakable sounds. Slight wet sucking 
noises that she had heard for the first time in her life last week. 
Thurman's wife was doing the same thing to Bob that Harry Burns' wife had 
been doing last week. 

Oh God, would Thurman expect the same thing from her. She felt herself 
wishing she had drunk more of the Pernod to make things easier. She couldn't 
refuse him anything he asked now and a small ball of fear began growing in 
her stomach that she might not be able to bring herself to do it. He had 
said he was going to be hard to please and she wondered apprehensively what 
demands he would place on her. 

They reached the empty bed and he guided her down gently onto the silken 
coverlet spread over it. She had never felt anything like the sensation the 
first touch of it across her back gave her. It was almost like felt and was 
warm from the first contact when she had expected it to be cold. She 
wriggled her back against it cat-like as she felt the bed sag from his 
weight as he lay down next to her. He made no attempt to keep his movements 
quiet and she was certain Bob and Susan could hear them but it only added to 
the excitement that she was going to get herself screwed silly while he lay 
listening to all the sounds she made. She waited quietly for a moment as 
Thurman pressed his nakedness next to hers for some sound that would 
indicate they had disturbed them but there was none. The soft wet sucking 
noises continued unabated as though they were unaware of anyone else's 
presence. 

"Ooooooh, God," she suddenly groaned forgetting her husband on the next bed. 

Thurman's wet moist lips had begun a gentle nibbling along her shoulder 
sending goose-bumps racing over her flesh. She quivered uncontrollably from 
the sudden unexpected sensation and dropped her hand between them grasping 
his hard erected cock in her hands. She heard him groan in return as she 
pushed against it with her fingers sliding the foreskin back over the round 
rubbery head. 

"I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk tonight," he hissed between 
clenched teeth. "God, you've got a body." 

Carol smiled to herself through the sensations of desire building deep in 
her belly. Her husband must have heard that and now she would make certain 
he knew it was her. 

"Oh God, Randy, I want you to fuck me. Fuck me good, please. I need it bad." 

She moaned with a false passion, hearing with quiet satisfaction, the sudden 
stillness on the other bed. And then ... a feminine voice pleading: 

"Oh keep sucking Bob, lick it, lick it. Don't stop, darling!" It whispered 
through the room in desperation and then she heard the sounds of movement as 
though someone were struggling to pull someone back to them ... and then ... 
the wet sucking sounds again but quieter this time. 

Carol's breath stopped. Bob was sucking her! It was not the other way 
around! 

It was the last controlled thought she had. Thurman's hot moist mouth 
fastened tightly to an erected nipple and began a gentle sucking pressure 
against it. His hands coursed lightly at the same time over the soft 
firmness of her belly and thighs. His mouth played for a long delicious 
moment around the throbbing tits, moving from one to the other, his tongue 
trailing wetly down through the narrow fleshy valley between them as he 
alternated his attention to each. 

And then, his mouth slid down over her now quivering belly, his penis 
sliding from her hand as his body moved away. He ground his tongue for a 
moment into her navel, bringing small mewls and gasps of pleasure from her 
open mouth. He moved lower, maddening patterns of indecent sensation 
trailing after his gently nipping teeth. She felt her thighs being pressed 
gently open and she made no resistance as he haunched down between them. She 
sucked in her breath with a gasp as she felt his fingers spreading the soft 
hair covered lips of her vagina and the coolness of the air touched against 
her there. His tongue flicked forward, the tip teasing moistly against the 
tiny bud of her clitoris causing it to throb into hardness. He lowered his 
fingers and spread the opening of her cunt wide apart and then suddenly 
dropping his tongue from her clitoris, thrust it deep into the pink, moist 
flesh of her pussy. 

Carol jerked from the sudden wet contact and reaching down tangled her 
fingers in his hair and pulled his face hard into her loins. His tongue 
circled around maddeningly inside her, the tip flicking against the wet 
sensitive walls of her pussy like the tongue of a cobra prepared to strike. 

"Ooooooooh," a long low groan escaped from deep in her throat, "It's good 
darling, it's good, do it more, do it more!" 

She chanted the words out without thought, her breasts heaving against her 
chest. Her legs splayed out wide and she jack-knifed her knees up hard 
against her swaying breasts to open her cunt as wide as she could to him. He 
pulled the upturned crevice of her crotch wide apart with his hands, 
stretching it cruelly as he heard her begging for more, and dropping his 
tongue to the small tight puckered anus, thrust the tip hard against it 
until he felt it give slightly and the tip enter just a hair. She fairly 
shrieked her joy now as he teased against the tightness of her rectum. 

"Randyeee! Randyeeeeee! Oh God, Oh God!" 

He moistened the top of his finger in her cunt and pressed it against the 
tight little hole, his mouth returning to her clitoris, and as he nibbled 
against it he thrust forward with his finger sinking it to the first knuckle 
in her anus. 

"Uuuugh!" she grunted. 

He thrust it to the second knuckle. 

"Uuuuuuugh! Darling it hurts! It hurts!" 

He held it still and thrust his tongue deep up her vagina again until she 
became accustomed to the strange presence in her asshole. 

She lay still, holding her breath with her mouth wide open, her lips drawn 
back tight over her teeth. Then after an eternity, she began to breathe 
again. He began to lick and suck in earnest now, twisting his finger around 
and around in her rectum, stretching it wider with each brutal circle until 
the pain in her rear passage merged with the powerful pleasures coursing 
through her pussy and she began thrusting her white rounded buttocks back up 
on his finger, skewering it into herself in rhythm with the lashing of his 
tongue. He slid his free hand up under her upraised buttocks and pressed 
them tight against his face, locking her to him in a wet moist connection of 
tongue and vagina. The soft curly pubic hair grazed tantalizingly against 
his cheeks. 

A strange masochistic wildness had taken hold of her body as she lay impaled 
between his tongue and finger and she ground her ass in wild abandoned 
ecstasy hard up against the maddening probing of her hot steaming loins. 
Nothing mattered now but the agony of the lovely swirling sensations 
rippling over every inch of her naked flesh. There was nothing else in the 
world and she writhed and twisted beneath his impalement gasping and 
screaming all the lewd words that came into her tortured and anguished mind. 

"Oh God, Randy! Suck me! Lick me! Ram your finger in my ass! Harder! Harder 
darling! Oooooh! Eeeeeegh! Aaaaahg!" 

Thurman worked demon-like below hearing her cries approaching a quick 
climax. By God, Burns was right, she was a hot little bitch, he thought 
through the blind passion of bringing a tender young beauty like this to 
orgasm. He had waited his chance and it was worth it all. He flicked his 
tongue faster and ground his finger with greater severity into the 
ever-expanding hole of her anus. 

Her body worked beneath his, her thighs spasmodically opening and closing on 
the sides of his head. He could feel their warm soft resilience press 
tightly against his ears as she would jerk involuntarily from an extra deep 
flick of his tongue in her cunt. 

He felt her belly begin to rise and fall more quickly, her head flailing out 
of control from side to side on the mattress, her long blonde hair lashing 
about the bed like a whip. 

He thrust his tongue deeper. 

Her thighs pressed tighter into the sides of his head, tighten and softening 
in rhythm to the thrusting of his punishing tongue. He knew she was on the 
brink of orgasm ... not quite there ... but hanging on the verge. Her 
breasts heaved and danced on her chest wildly, her fingers twisted crazily 
in his hair. Her head stopped its flailing and tensed as she arched her 
back, the cords in her neck standing out like steel-tendons. Her face 
contorted and a low guttural scream rumbled deep in her throat, choked off 
at the last moment by a long soulful gasp that reminded one of a dying 
animal. 

"Aaaah," and then again,"Aaaaah!" 

Carol felt as though she were losing her insides as the fluid of her orgasm 
started deep in her belly and gushed out with a roar around his still 
thrashing tongue and out into his face. She could feel it running wetly down 
the crevice of her buttocks, around the finger sunk in her anus, and down to 
the covers below. 

She gave one last great gasp and collapsed down into the mattress, dropping 
her legs like heavy weights of lead to each side of his body. She could not 
move. The world had ended and she had been consumed in the last great 
cataclysmic fire that was the destruction of everything living. She lay 
absolutely immobile, her arms and legs splayed out uselessly like a rag-doll 
in either side of her body. Thurman lay still also with his head pillowed in 
the softness of her wet, blonde pubic hair between her legs. They panted out 
their exhaustion together for a long moment and then Thurman crawled up over 
her and pressed his open mouth tightly against hers. She could feel the 
wetness and intensity of her orgasm on his cheeks and thrust her tongue deep 
in his mouth in a wordless gesture of thanks for the indescribable journey 
he had just taken her on. 

"Rest for a moment, darling," he whispered into her mouth, "and then I want 
you to do me." 

She nodded her head gently in agreement his mouth still locked tightly to 
hers. She knew this was the moment she should have dreaded, but now it 
seemed such a small thing to do for this man who had brought such wild, 
delicious response from her. She had done it with him just for revenge 
against Bob, but instead, he had shown her what one person could really give 
to another. She wanted to do it for him, she wanted with all her heart to 
repay him for this ultimate kindness he had bestowed on her. 

Through the darkness, she could hear the soft mewling pleadings of Thurman's 
wife. She laughed softly to herself. Bob had a long way to go and a lot to 
learn if he were going to compete with the likes of the other two men she 
had had in the short space of this last week. Even Harry Burns had his good 
points as a lover, in a brutal kind of way, but he had made her come in 
spite of her resistance to him. There was a lot to say for that. 

Thurman lay with his leg thrown over her, his chin nestled against her 
shoulder as their breathing subsided. The wet sucking noises of Bob's 
lovemaking to Thurman's wife filtered through the room in a low continuous 
rhythm. They were punctuated by the low moaning noises of her passion. 
Periodically, as he thrust his tongue forward extra vigorously, a slight 
whimper of surprised delight would erupt from her lips. The symphony of 
sounds excited Thurman more. Carol could feel his already hardened prick 
lying across her thigh throb almost in unison to the sound of his wife's 
groans. 

"Are you ready, darling?" she whispered in his ear, the sounds exciting her 
as she knew they were him. 

"Yes," he whispered back eagerly, "Are you rested enough?" 

"Yes, darling, but I want you to promise me one thing before I begin." She 
cupped his ear in her hands so that not a sound could be heard on the next 
bed. "I-I want you to turn on the light just before you cum. Is there a 
switch by the bed?" 

"Yes, there is a wire with a switch on it right here. I can hold it in my 
hand. But why not now if you want it on? Susan wouldn't mind." 

"Never mind," she whispered low, "You've promised. Now, turn over on your 
back." 

Carol was surprised at her own boldness as she told him what to do but she 
could think of no greater punishment for Bob than to suddenly find he was 
watching another man shoot his sperm deep in his wife's mouth while he stood 
helplessly by unable to do a thing. The thought of doing that to a man no 
longer repelled her as her own loins were still moist and warm from the 
pleasures he had just conferred upon her and anything that made a person 
feel that good could not be as degrading an act as it seemed. 

She began slowly as he had, first running her tongue down the hollows of his 
neck and to his chest. She found the small male nipples and nipped gently at 
them not sure they would respond. To her pleasant surprise, they did and she 
could feel him twist slightly from the strange sensation. She did not know 
much about the male body and worked slowly to learn. With one hand she 
reached down and grasped his hardened penis between her fingers as she 
worked lower and lower with her tongue licking wetly at his flesh. She 
remembered the wild sensations that had run through her own body when he had 
licked at her navel and conferred the same on him, running her tongue hotly 
around inside it until she felt his stomach begin to heave beneath her. He 
was hairy and she could feel the soft wiriness of it against her lips and 
face as she moved. She dropped one hand down lower and grasped his hardened 
penis tightly between her fingers, drawing back the foreskin in a teasing 
motion that brought other louder moans from his lips. 

The position was growing more uncomfortable as she worked lower so she 
crawled over him, pushed his legs apart and kneeled on all fours between his 
thighs. her feet hung over the end of the bed. 

Her face was over his loins now and she continued the gentle skinning back 
and forth of his ever hardening cock. Her lips were a bare inch away from 
the tip and she opened her mouth and breathed softly against it, allowing 
her hot breath to flow over the cool tip with a maddening slowness. 

"Oooooh God, suck it now, baby," she heard him groan above her. His words 
excited her as she knew her husband next to them would hear and she found 
herself sadistically wishing she could see his face as he realized she was 
doing this lewd obscene thing, willingly, to another man. 

She wanted to punish Bob as he had never been punished before. 

Her tongue flicked out, the tip coming into warm wet contact with the head 
of his cock. She circled it about the smooth, rubbery flesh as he groaned 
and twisted above from the cruel teasing she was subjecting him to. The tip 
of her slowly searching tongue found the tiny opening of the gland at the 
end and darted wetly into it. It was already moist from the tiny droplets of 
seminal fluid seeping through from his rising excitement. The sharp pungent 
taste and odor caused her mouth to salivate and her nostrils to flare 
slightly. Her hands dropped to the base of the huge erected prick and she 
cupped his soft, smooth testicles gently with one of them, grazing her nails 
tantalizingly over the hairy flaccid flesh. The other hand she placed at the 
thick base of his cock where it soared from the curly black pubic hair 
covering his lower stomach. She pinched it between her thumb and forefinger 
and pulled down hard, skinning back the foreskin until the large red 
throbbing head stood alone and naked against the softness of her lips. She 
began planting moist warm kisses around it, beginning at the tip and tracing 
a path down the full length of it to the base and then wetly back up to the 
tip again. She played longer than she knew she should, not being able just 
yet, to bring herself to take it in her mouth. 

But Thurman could stand it no more. With a gurgle deep in his throat he 
reached down with his hands, tangled them in her hair, and thrust his loins 
up with the strength of a bull. Carol resisted for a moment, doubts running 
wildly through her mind, but it was too late. The thick spongy head rammed 
inside, crushing through her soft moist lips, between the whiteness of her 
teeth and into the moist saliva of her mouth. She could feel the spongy 
stiff substance rub the full length of her tongue almost imbedding itself 
deep in her throat. 

She closed her eyes to keep from choking. Saliva seemed to fill her mouth, 
all of it, except that filled by Thurman's great fleshy rod, now protruding 
banana-like from her ovaled shaped lips. 

"Oooooh, god honey, your mouth is like butter," she heard him murmur as he 
began a slow rhythmic undulation of his hips up into her face. 

"Tighten your lips and suck harder," he hissed from above, his voice coarse 
and thick from passion. 

Carol did his bidding, feeling at the same time the excitement growing again 
in her own body from the mean, debasing thought of her mouth being used this 
way by Thurman as Harry Burns had used her cunt before. She sucked 
demon-like, swishing her tongue with vengeance around and around the 
throbbing head sliding in and out of her ovaled lips ... She sucked to end 
it, her head bobbing like a cork in the stormy seas over his pumping loins. 
The masochistic joy of being used, used like a dirty whore, permeated her 
body in tingling submissive mewling sounds that came from her lips locked 
tightly around his thrusting cock. He was going to pump his lewd white sperm 
into it until it ran from the edges of her lips in sticky white trails of 
blissful sensation that could be matched by nothing else in the world. 

And ... when that moment came ... when it came 

Bob, damn him, would see it all ... her cunt throbbed momentarily at the 
thought as her mouth clung wetly to Thurman's cock screwing mercilessly into 
her face ... 

Earlier, Bob had let Thurman's wife lead him into the same darkened room. He 
had wanted to turn on the light so that he could see her nakedness when she 
shed her clothing but for some reason she would not allow it. He had not 
been aware of the earlier conversation that had gone on between her and her 
husband about bringing both he and Carol into the room at the same time. He 
had stripped his clothing from his body quickly in the darkness as she had 
waited on the bed urging him to hurry. His head whirled slightly from too 
much drink and he had not protested when the moment he stretched beside her 
she opened her legs wide and guided his head down between them. 

He had never made love to a woman like this before though in the heat of 
passion he had tried with Carol many times. But she had always, in her 
puritanical way, pushed him off. He parted the softness of Susan's vagina 
with his thumbs and found his nostrils suddenly flaring from the sweet, soft 
odor that arose from her body. 

It was jasmine. 

"Kiss my cunt, darling," she had purred above him, her fingers stroking 
softly through his hair. 

He had flicked out his tongue experimentally and felt her jerk and quiver 
slightly as it came into contact with the smooth moist flesh exposed between 
the narrow, thin slit of her vagina. He licked gently at the hardening 
little clitoris snuggled just above the wide-stretched entrance to her cunt 
where it gave him a sudden sense of power as it brought further jerks from 
her body and greater moans sifting through her lips. 

He pressed his thumbs farther apart pulling the ragged moist edges of the 
slit open further. His tongue traced a path up and down the full length 
searching out the wet hidden crevices between her legs. He gradually warmed 
to the task as he became more and more familiar with the tiny erogenous 
zones of her loins and felt her breathing increasing in intensity. His sense 
of power grew with the familiarity and he found himself teasing for a moment 
at a particular sensitive area, listening to her impatient mewling above 
him, then flicking his tongue forward at the last minute when he sensed she 
could wait no longer. 

The groans and twisting increased until he pressed his head forward and 
thrust his tongue out lizard-like sinking it deep into the wet opening of 
her pussy. There was weird, soulful cry from her lips and then a slow, set 
grinding of her loins up against his face began. Her hands tangled tight in 
his hair, kept his face imprisoned between her rotating thighs as though 
held by steel bands. 

His cock hardened on the cover below and his own loins began a slow 
thrusting against the spread, rubbing the full tortured length of his rising 
penis against the softness of the mattress. The tingling sensation rising in 
his own belly from the pressure against his cock and the sweet, soft odor of 
Susan's warm fleshy cunt grinding on his face, blotted out the fears he had 
had of leaving Carol alone downstairs. He had wanted to stay close to her to 
prevent a recurrence of last week but Thurman's wife had been so insistent 
on showing him the house and then of getting him into bed he didn't dare to 
refuse. He had promised Jordan he would have more accounts to follow Burns 
and didn't dare go back on his word. They had come to expect things of him 
at the bank and he had to produce now or else. 

"Ooooh, move your tongue a little faster, darling," she purred again 
bringing his mind back to the task at present. He quickened his thrusts 
feeling her buttocks increasing their speed slightly. 

"Put your hands under my ass and draw me closer, darling," she breathed 
heavily. 

Bob slid his hands down from between her thighs and cupped them under the 
smooth rounded globes pulling her crotch up tighter into his face. He could 
feel tiny dewdrops of moisture forming against his cheeks on the edges of 
the soft pubic hair surrounding his lips. He nipped gently with his teeth 
into soft fleshy folds surrounding the widening hole and reveled in the tiny 
squeal it brought from her throat. He was enjoying this power he possessed 
over her and worked to show his complete domination of her every breath. His 
tongue slavered on and on in the moistness of her loins, increasing little 
by little in speed and depth until he had brought her to the point of 
absolute subjugation to the whims of his flicking tongue. 

Then, as he licked and sucked between her yawning, open thighs like a 
hungry, mewling child he heard a sudden noise behind him in the darkness of 
the room. His first impulse was to raise his head and see what it was but 
the strength of her hands holding his face tight into her loins prevented 
him. 

He heard the noise again, closer this time as though someone were struggling 
quietly on the bed next to them. The smoothness of naked skin rustled 
against the bed cover punctuated by low, excited whispers. He closed his 
eyes and continued the thrusting of his tongue into Thurman's wife's cunt 
and then opened them again and tried to see through the darkness to the next 
bed. It was too dark and he closed them again, thinking why should he 
bother. It was probably some couple trying to find a place of their own. He 
hurried his sucking of her cunt hoping to satisfy her quickly as a sudden 
thought of Carol being alone downstairs with all those others crossed his 
mind. If they were dragging the women off to the bedrooms already she might 
be in trouble. He was not so certain she would resist it as hard this time 
either, from the strange things she had been saying all week, and he just 
couldn't bear to go through all that again. This is why he had allowed 
Thurman's wife to pull him off by himself so early in the evening. Now, he 
could get his duty over with before Carol got suspicious or got herself 
involved in something she couldn't handle again. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a series of soulful gasps. It sounded like 
a woman in pain. He stopped for a moment, holding his breath. He wondered if 
he should continue but his question was answered by a tightening of Susan's 
fingers in his hair. His tongue snaked forward again into her soft, warm,, 
liquid depths as he heard a distinct female murmur followed by the sound of 
heavy male breathing. God, it was another couple and they were going to make 
love right next to them. They must have either drunk a lot, or been so fired 
up they couldn't hear, if they hadn't noticed he and Thurman's wife in the 
room before them. 

"Oooooo, God," he heard in a heavy throated female whisper, barely audible 
even in the almost total silence of the darkness. 

"I'm gonna fuck you till you can't walk ...' 

Thurman's voice followed in an equally soft murmur. "Oh God Randy, I want 
you to fuck me ... fuck me ... please ... need it bad!" 

Bob's tongue froze in Susan's cunt as he heard the familiar pleading voice 
of his own wife begging their host to fuck her in the next bed. He couldn't 
believe his ears for a moment until he was shocked back into reality by 
Susan's pleading shriek above him: "... keep sucking, Bob, lick it... don't 
stop!" 

Her legs jerked out over his shoulders and her thighs wrapped around his 
head pulling his face back into her crotch wet and hard. His face flushed as 
he realized she had screamed his name and Carol would know. He sucked to 
keep her from screaming again and listened for some sign that she knew he 
was there and had pushed the man away ... there was none ... just the 
continued rustling of naked bodies against the mattress and the wet moist 
sounds of lips slavering out of control across soft bare flesh. Oh God, he 
hoped she wasn't sucking him but he didn't dare raise his head from Susan's 
wildly grinding buttocks to find out. She would shriek again and if Carol 
hadn't heard it last time she would the next. But anyway, she must know 
someone was here now. How could she do whatever she was doing knowing 
someone else was in the same room and listening to every sound she made? 

He wished he could see them. Was she lying on top of him straddling him with 
her legs open? Was she completely naked or had she just lifted her dress up 
over her hips as Marsha had done to him when they were watching that movie? 
His tortured mind formed a thousand lewd obscene pictures of his wife lying 
in the darkness next to him with her dress pulled up over her hips and lying 
back on the mattress with her legs spread obscenely open while Randy Thurman 
plundered her soft, defenseless cunt with his hands and mouth. Or ... was 
she haunched over him, her head bobbing up and down with his thick hard cock 
shoved into her clean, soft mouth. He groaned and pushed face as tight as he 
could into the warm moistness of Thurman's wife's pussy trying to drive from 
his mind the anguished thoughts. His tongue lashed at her like the eye of a 
storm building into a wild uncontrollable tempest that would suddenly erupt 
and devour them all ... he sucked to hurt her like her husband was his own 
wife ... he sucked to forget ... to drive out the noise of blind, inhuman 
sounds beginning to erupt from Carol's tortured throat so close to him. She 
sang and crooned in an abandoned ecstasy that he had never been able to 
bring from her, that she had never accepted from him in all the times he had 
made love to her. At times he thought she was in pain and he bit cruelly 
into Susan for revenge, but at other times she cooed softly like a kitten 
being stroked into submission and he nibbled gently to return that being 
done to his wife as best he knew how. 

God, he was getting excited. Excited from the wet sucking noises coming from 
Thurman's licking tongue as he plundered the very depths of Carol's hot 
steaming pussy. And suddenly, without realizing it, he forgot it was his 
wife, he forgot it was another man bringing cries of pain and pleasure from 
her lust contorted lips. It was just a woman, a hot passion-crazed woman 
writhing and twisting in the throes of the act of a sexual coupling as old 
as time itself. He felt his cock throbbing and aching against the covers 
below, his testicles felt swollen and angry at their neglect and he could 
feel small droplets of cum begin oozing from the tip of his cock wetting the 
mattress beneath where it had rubbed. It jerked when suddenly he heard her 
cries and pleadings for further and further indignities to be heaped upon 
her. He moaned in piteous masochistic torture as Randy followed her screams 
and rammed his small fat finger deep into her unplundered and virginal anus. 

And, she begged for more! He was sucking her! 

He heard her murmuring obscene words, words he didn't know she knew, broken 
and slurred, mixed with the animal-like mutterings of passion from deep in 
her lungs. She groaned incessantly and he could hear the rustling of her 
naked skin against the bed as it twisted and turned beneath Thurman's 
licking tongue. He could picture her with her face wildly contorted in 
abandoned ecstasy, her body bent double with the toes of her feet touching 
the bed up over her shoulders, her loins presented up in defenseless 
sacrifice to his voraciously sucking mouth. 

And then, then she emitted a sudden unearthly squeal that was low and sharp 
and sounded as though he were killing her except that Bob knew he wasn't the 
was at the point of orgasm and the bed next to him groaned and creaked 
beneath her wild thrashing. The wet sucking noises coming from his wife's 
widespread and open crotch filled the room as Thurman licked and sucked her 
pussy faster and faster with his tireless lizard-like tongue. 

Her heard her voice gasping, "Aaaah, Aaaaaaaaah," and then it trailed off to 
a small almost helpless cry of piteous whimpering as she moaned out her 
completion through her tortured lips. 

Bob's body was tense, and he sucked harder against Thurman's wife's open 
loins trying to no avail to kill the furious aching desire building in his 
cock below as he heard his wife being debauched as she had never been 
debauched before. 

He heard her breath deeply, a sigh escaping from far down inside her still 
heaving chest. She gave small occasional cries of further sensation as her 
teasing lover nipped for a moment longer at the still throbbing bud of her 
tiny erect clitoris. 

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the heavy spent breathing 
coming from the other bed. 

He listened intently to see if they would stop or go on to something else as 
equally dirty and sordid as the act they had just performed. His own sucking 
of Thurman's wife's cunt was forgotten now and he continued as an automaton. 
His interest was on the next bed and he had to hold himself back to keep 
from leaping the short distance between the two and raping his own wife 
where she lay. God, he wanted to fuck her now. He wanted to bring the same 
responses from her lips that Thurman had, he wanted to show her he could do 
it too and just as well. 

There was a rustle of the bedspread and the soft sound of a naked body 
twisting around on it. Soft whispers that he could not make out drifted 
across in the silence. They were re-arranging themselves and he could hear 
the slight squeak of the bedsprings as someone moved and crawled about on 
the bed. Then, there was the audible sound of heavy, coarse male breathing 
becoming more and more excited by the second. He was whispering things that 
Bob could not make out clearly but from their tone alone sounded lewd and 
forbidden. Then suddenly, there was a gasp from Thurman's lips as though he 
were in sudden pain, his voice broke through the darkness like a knife, loud 
and clear so that Bob could not mistake their cruel sadistic meaning. 

"Ooooh God, your mouth is like butter." 

Bob groaned into Susan's wet gyrating cunt and clenched his eyes tightly 
shut wishing to blot out the horrible picture forming in his mind of his 
wife's sweet virginal lips slipping obscenely down over Thurman's 
glistening, thick cock. This was the ultimate humiliation, lying here with 
his face pressed tightly between another woman's thighs as his own 
beautiful, innocent wife sucked another man right on the next bed. 

"Tighten your lips and suck harder," he heard Thurman hiss through 
passion-clenched teeth. He jerked his head up, forcing it from Susan's 
clinging hands and tried to peer through the darkness. He could see nothing 
but his imagination ran wild, the low dim form of Carol haunched on all 
fours over Thurman's grinding loins with his cock buried deep in her mouth, 
emerged clearly in his mind. She was not fighting it and low soft muffled 
mewls of pleasure drifted across the room from her cock-filled mouth. 

Bob could stand no more. He had to fuck her. He had to participate in this 
lewd awful rape of her body, and it was rape, even if she didn't fight it, 
it had to be. She would never let herself be used in this way if it weren't. 
But even as he prayed that it was, further mewls of pleasure groaned from 
Carol's lips as the tempo of the wet sucking sounds she was making with her 
mouth increased. 

"Don't leave me! Don't leave me, darling." Susan ground, fighting 
desperately with her hands to draw his head back down between her 
wide-spread thighs. But, Bob twisted away ignoring her pleas, the wet 
sucking noises Carol was making with her ovaled lips and the grunts of 
pleasure coming from Thurman's mouth as she labored over him were too much. 
Forgot ten was the account, forgotten was Jordan's possible anger if he lost 
it. He was a wild uncontrolled animal now that wanted nothing more than to 
ram his aching tortured cock into the girl next to him. He wanted to punish 
her as she was punishing him by her obscene submission to the man on the 
next bed. He rose from the end of the bed where his legs were hanging over 
the edge and half stumbled toward the sucking noises in the darkness. He 
banged his shin painfully against the corner of the bed but ignored it in 
his frenzy. He thrust his hands out in front of him feeling in the air 
toward the sounds and where he thought the end of the other bed should be. 

There was an abrupt inhale of breath and the sucking noises stopped as his 
hands came into electrifying contact with soft swaying flesh. It stilled for 
a moment and then, with what he thought was a soft muffled laugh, began 
again. He probed experimentally with his fingers, digging them harshly into 
the flaccid giving skin. He found her backbone, the tiny ridges standing out 
from the humped-over position she was kneeling in. He followed it slowly 
down toward her buttocks until he came into warm contact with the crevice of 
her ass. It was hanging right over the end of the bed and swaying high in 
the air, her knees wide-apart on the edge of the mattress. He moved around 
directly behind her running his hands over the smooth white cheeks of her 
soft buttocks. He could feel them quivering under his touch from the 
movement of her head below as she bobbed and twisted her face, her lips 
still locked tightly around Thurman's ever-growing prick. 

Bob gritted his teeth, tiny droplets of sweat beginning to roll from his 
forehead and with his thumbs he drew the soft flexing crevice of her ass 
wide apart. He ran the middle finger of one hand down the entire length of 
it, feeling it still wet and open from Thurman's saliva and her own orgasmic 
fluids that had gushed so wildly from it a few moments before. He thrust his 
finger into her cunt, feeling her jerk slightly forward from the sudden 
invasion. A deeper mewl came from her throat but she did not let up with her 
sucking of Thurman's cock for an instant. 

God, she's hot, ran through his mind and caused his already aching penis to 
throb again in anticipation of ramming it in between the beautifully shaped 
mounds of her buttocks. Again, the lewd thought of fucking Carol from behind 
while another man fucked into her mouth from the front overcame the shame 
and humiliation of her wanton submission to Thurman. He slipped his hand 
from her cunt and pried the full rounded moons wide apart and leaned 
forward. His prick made electrical contact with the soft sparse pubic hair 
covering the slim folds of tender young flesh which enfolded her vagina. He 
gasped, as he felt her hand reach back under her body, her fingers gently 
enfolding his thick shaft. She moved it up and down for a moment, parting 
the softness of the blonde pubic hair and then guided him gently forward. He 
let his hips move to the slight tug until with a sudden groan that began in 
the tips of his toes, the warm moist flesh of her vagina popped teasingly 
over the head like a tight fitting glove. He could feel the softness of the 
curly, soft lining of pubic hair brushing teasingly around it where it 
entered her. 

Bob could hold back no longer, he threw back his head and rammed forward, 
his cock flooding into his kneeling wife like a great tide, tearing and 
bursting everything in its path, deeper and deeper until his loins smacked 
hard against her upturned ass. He could feel the white soft cheeks flattened 
out from the wide-split crevice towards her hips from the pressure he was 
exerting into her backside. He convulsively reached forward, clasping his 
hands tightly around her narrow wasp-like waist where it flared down into 
her broad well-formed hips, and held her tight so that she could not move. 

A low muffled moan came from her lips, distorted in sound by the huge thick 
cock throbbing deep in her throat and she tried to squirm forward to escape 
the deep and sudden impalement of her wide-held pussy. She was held 
vice-like, skewered between Thurman's cock buried deep in her throat, and 
that of her own husband grinding deep into her upheld backside from the 
rear. 

Thurman, lying beneath her, held her head trapped tightly between his hands, 
his legs splayed out wide on either side of her knees. He thrust his cock 
mercilessly into her mouth, forcing her lips apart with each upward jerk 
until almost the whole of his rigid flesh was swallowed in her mouth. At the 
other end, Bob surged into her with long deep strokes into the wet throbbing 
slit between her buttocks which hollowed and shook beneath his hands as 
though she were being beaten with a whip. 

Thurman's hand suddenly clenched above involuntarily from the spasms 
building in his body and the light switch he held in his hand closed with a 
click. The darkened room was without warning bathed in light from the lamp 
that flashed on by the side of the bed. 

No one noticed it or cared. 

Bob swung his head from side to side as he rammed his cock deeper and deeper 
from behind into Carol's stretched and open cunt and suddenly caught a side 
view of the lewd horrible scene in the huge mirror of the dresser that stood 
a few feet from the bed. He groaned in anger and frustration as the obscene 
picture of his wife being buffeted between the two of them in the 
subservient kneeling position she was in became clearer to his eyes. He 
could see Thurman's huge thick rod disappearing and re-appearing between her 
sucking fish-like lips, her long disheveled hair flowing down over her head 
to lie in a soft pool on his round, hair-covered belly. Her firm, white tits 
danced and shook below her heaving chest as though they had strings attached 
to the nipples and a puppet master quivered them from above. 

On the other side, he could see Thurman's wife, Susan, watching them with 
her eyes opened wide and smoky from the effect the licentious sight was 
having on her. Her legs were spread loosely apart and drawn up in a 
crab-like position with three fingers of one hand thrust far down in her 
cunt. Her other hand massaged her own breasts in wild circular motions as 
she worked vicariously in time to the cruel buffeting of Carol's body 
impaled between Bob and her husband. 

He wanted to cry, to scream and pull his wife's suddenly insatiable body 
from between them but he could not. His prick ached and throbbed inside her 
clasping pussy and he couldn't bear to pull it from the soft, tight, hot 
moistness. Instead, he watched hypnotized in the mirror as the tempo 
increased by the second. 

Unconsciously, he began following the rhythm Thurman was setting with his 
merciless sawing in and out of her mouth. Wilder and wilder the two of them 
became, punishing Carol mercilessly between them. Their thick hoarse groans 
intermingled, Carol's muffled and muted from the fleshy rod stuffing the 
cavern of her mouth. She lolled limply between them, allowing herself to be 
used as they would, following their beat in the swirling of her tongue 
around Thurman's almost exploding cock. 

And then it came! 

A deep, half-human scream erupted from Thurman's throat and he locked his 
hands hard around the back of Carol's bobbing head, drawing it deep down on 
his rigidity until all Bob could see left of his cock was a small bit at the 
base protruding wet and glistening from his wife's wildly sucking lips. He 
watched in horrified awe as her throat tightened and untightened, swallowing 
in great desperate gulps the hot, sticky fluid Thurman was spewing in her 
mouth. Her cheeks bloated and hollowed as the warm, working cavern of her 
mouth filled and emptied, filled and emptied, as she swallowed desperately 
to rid it of the flooding white sperm pulsating into it. God, he thought, 
the man must be a reservoir of sperm. 

At the same time he could feel a gush of warmth around his own cock inside 
her still-pulsating vagina and her juices begin to flow out from around the 
edges of his deeply imbedded cock and down into the softness of his swaying 
testicles. 

She was cumming too, and groaned out her release as she continued her now 
uncontrolled gnawing on Thurman's deflating prick below. Bob clenched his 
eyes tightly shut and felt his testicles begin to wildly erupt. His hot 
sperm spurted like a fire hose through the end of his driving cock and 
squirted wildly far up into Carol's palpitating vagina. In spite of the 
excitement of the moment, an obscene thought of his sperm mixing with that 
of an almost total stranger deep inside his wife's quivering belly sent 
chills of revulsion creeping through him. For a moment he hated her again 
and thrust his cock as deep as it would go as it spewed out its lewd load, 
he ground his pelvis around and dug the head deeper and deeper scraping the 
walls of her pussy without mercy. She whimpered, her own orgasm nearing its 
end and tried to jerk forward to dislodge him from her now satiated cunt but 
he held her tight for a further moment looking down on the back of her head 
as she suddenly turned to the side. Thurman's thick, deflated prick slipped 
from her mouth and he could see thin, sticky strings of his hot sperm still 
connecting her face to it even though it was now several inches away from 
her lips. Her breathing was heavy and wet as though her mouth and nose were 
completely covered with moisture. She groaned and flopped her head sideways 
to his heavy belly, her body limp like a doll, held in place against Bob's 
loins only by the pressure of his hands at the juncture of her widespread 
thighs. He strained forward and emptied the last of his cum deep inside her 
and then released his hands as he felt his own prick begin deflating inside 
the wet, flooded hole of her crotch. She slithered forward and lay still 
across Thurman's loins and chest, her own legs still wide apart. He caught a 
last view of her wide stretched vagina between her open legs, wet and 
glistening in the light from the lamp before he fell to the side on the bed 
where Thurman's wife was still working herself with her own fingers into a 
frenzy. He had barely hit the mattress when she engulfed him in her arms and 
began pleading: 

"Now me, now me!" 

He could see Carol, her face still lying against Thurman's calmed belly 
smiling over at him, thin trails of his sperm still visible around her ruby 
red lips. Her victory was complete. She had hurt him with a vengeance. 

Later, they did other things, wild, crazy positions with all of them on the 
same bed that he had never known existed with Thurman's wife directing like 
a master musician. To him, the evening faded into nothing but a wild tangled 
mass of thighs, breasts, and cunts. He was not always even certain whose it 
was, but took the offering without question. Why not, there wasn't much else 
in the world now. He knew, without question, that they had both passed the 
point of no return. 

Summer had passed and the season had slipped into late fall. Carol Benson 
was sitting in the living room looking out the front window at the last of 
the leaves falling from the trees across the street. She was dressed 
casually, in a pair of slacks and sweater. It was faintly apparent that she 
had matured more than she should have in the last few months from the tiny 
crow's feet barely becoming visible in the corners of her eyes. Her make-up 
was a little heavier, too but aside from these facts, one who had not known 
her before would not have noticed the difference. She still retained the 
fresh sparkle in her eyes and the eagerness within her body. In fact, she 
could feel that eagerness coming to the fore now as she waited for Harry 
Burns' car to return from picking up the other two couples he had gone 
after. 

She had enjoyed the party last week where all of them were naked in the same 
room and pressed her thighs tightly together in warm remembrance of some of 
the things that had been done to her and the things she had done to others 
in return. It seemed to be getting to the point now where she wasn't 
satisfied unless she had at least three or four men in the same evening and 
if it hadn't been for Harry Burns sneaking over several days a week and an 
occasional door to door salesman, both of which were strictly against club 
rules, she would have gone completely out of her mind. Poor Bob just 
couldn't stand the pace she required any more but she didn't blame him, 
probably no man could have. 

The were doing well with Bob's new accounts and he had made three new 
promotions in the last two months or so since they had first met the Burns. 
Her personal account was growing by leaps and bounds and had finally reached 
the point where they had just agreed to forget it. She had gotten her petty 
revenge and Bob had suffered enough until they both had adjusted to sharing 
each other. She had put the crumpled two dollar bills away as a silent 
souvenir of her introduction to the hedonistic world and they had resumed 
life as before, except of course, for their new circle of friends. It just 
seemed so natural now, these weekly meetings and all, and it never ceased to 
amaze her at the affluence of the members. She just couldn't believe the 
number of leading citizens from the area who had already been members or who 
had joined the club since she and Bob had become members. It was simply 
astounding. 

Her reminiscence was suddenly interrupted by the harsh blare of a horn 
outside. She quickly put out the cigarette she was smoking and picked her 
bag up from the hallway and bounded out the door and down the stairs to the 
waiting car. 

"Hi, everyone ready?" she queried with a laugh as she crawled in the back 
seat with Jack Sherman and Sarah Castles. 

"Hi, chicken," Harry Burns returned her greeting with the others. "Phyllis 
can't make it. Sudden case of flu, but otherwise everything's okay. You and 
Sarah oughta be able to handle three old men like us without too much 
trouble." 

"I think I could do that myself without too much trouble," she kidded back. 
"Unless all three of you have improved a great deal since last week." 

She smiled warmly over at Sarah Castles who sat a bit nervously against the 
other corner of the back scat. She knew she would have to be a little gentle 
with her and lead her along for the first day anyway. She was new with the 
group and a young newlywed of less than two months. She had never been on 
one of these weekends where all the couples split up into groups of six with 
no husband or wife pairs allowed together in the same group. Sarah might 
find it a bit difficult without her husband for the first time and Carol 
sympathized with her. She too had gone through the same sort of doubt for 
the first several times but now they had become so commonplace with her she 
looked forward to it. It seemed to lift all inhibitions, for no matter how 
many times one sexed it up in front of husband or wife, they always seemed 
to hold something back. It was a natural reaction, she supposed. She had 
found her self always feeling inhibited too when she knew Bob was watching 
someone else doing it to her. It might not be apparent to someone from her 
wild reaction to sex, but she felt it deeply within herself anyway and she 
knew the others did too. This was the reason for these little changes in 
club practice once a month where no mates were allowed along. She knew, too, 
that Sarah was in for a rough weekend. Harry Burns would make certain she 
got everything it was possible for a woman to get. He seemed to enjoy 
humiliating women, particularly the young, innocent, new members who were 
still a little shy. Carol knew this from her own experiences with him and 
the things he had demanded of her when he had gotten his chance with her the 
first few times. Well, she would just have to hold him back as much as she 
possibly could for Sarah's sake. 

The trip to Harry's lake cabin was several hours long and they passed it 
quickly and enjoyably. Charlie Evans, sitting in the front seat with Harry, 
had brought several bottles along and they passed them around in the car, 
discussing animatedly all the time their plans for the two days they were to 
spend there. She didn't know too much about Evans, he too was a new member 
and she had only made love with him one time when they both had already been 
through the mill so she listened particularly to anything he would say to 
see if she could figure him out. It did not help much. He was the quiet type 
that made it difficult to tell what really smoldered beneath him. She had 
the feeling that it was a great deal but she wasn't certain she liked it. 
Harry Burns was a sadist, there was no question about that but he was a 
loud, crude one. You always knew what he was thinking, but with Evans it was 
different. He was too quiet and she had a tinge of fear about being alone 
with him in a room with no one else around. She just didn't know what he 
might do to her. 

"House coming up in about three minutes," Harry said as they rounded a bend 
on the dirt road they had been traveling since turning off they main highway 
several miles back. "Start getting your pants off, girls," he joked, knowing 
the effect it would have on Sarah Castles. 

Carol could see her flush a little from the remark and twist nervously on 
the handkerchief she carried in her hand, and suddenly for the first time, 
she could understand the excitement that Marsha must have felt when she had 
watched her being taken that first night. There was a little added 
something, perhaps the small degree of sadism latent in all of us, that 
increased the enjoyment of watching someone who was not quite willing in the 
beginning to turn suddenly into a wild inferno of uncontrolled lust. This 
wouldn't be Sarah's first time, but it certainly would be the first time she 
really got it with no holds barred. There was no husband around now to 
object if things really got out of hand. And ... she knew with these three 
that they very well could. She found herself guiltily looking forward to 
seeing Sarah having it thrown to her good. God, she thought to herself, I'm 
getting as bad as the rest of them. 

Harry pulled the car up in front of the stone and redwood cabin that sat 
right on the edge of the lake and switched the motor off. They all pitched 
in carrying the food and liquor into the house and had cleared the car in a 
matter of a few minutes. The sun was just going down over the far edge of 
the lake and presented the most beautiful sunset Carol had seen in a long 
time. The air was a bit nippy at this altitude and Harry had built a huge 
roaring fire in the stone fireplace that gave the cabin a warm, homey look, 
belying the real reason they were here ... A stranger walking in at this 
moment, she mused, would have thought they were just two married couples and 
a friend up for a quiet weekend of fishing or bridge. But, if he happened to 
stay a few minutes longer, he would soon see that that was not the case. 

Harry, as usual, had had the interior done in perfect keeping with its 
purpose. The living room was huge with a high oak-beamed ceiling and a large 
stone fireplace that looked like one from the old frontier days. It was so 
large a person could almost stand up in it and it heated the house 
beautifully. Several large double mattresses were scattered around the floor 
against the walls without bedsteads. Nice, she thought drily, one doesn't 
hurt oneself if you fall off in the heat of the moment. 

They busied themselves for awhile with all the domestic activities required 
to open the cabin up for living. The men carried in wood and after a long 
struggle got the hot water heater going with the electric generator. The 
cabin was too isolated to have electricity and Carol noted with a grimace 
while she and Sarah were tidying up the kitchen and putting the food away 
that it had a wood stove and they would have to prepare the meals on that. 
She had never cooked on one before but Sarah had and she let her handle that 
part of the chores. 

The men relaxed and fixed the drinks while they cooked the steaks and she 
noticed that Harry kept pouring a little more for Sarah than he did the rest 
of them. They began to tell after awhile but she didn't stop, she seemed to 
be trying to build her courage up for the time when she knew she would have 
to produce according to the club rules in spite of her fears. 

"Sarah," Carol said warmly at one point when they were in the kitchen alone 
and she could see the poor girl shaking so badly she could hardly hold the 
pan she was cooking with. "Don't worry about later tonight. It'll be all 
right." 

Her reminder of what was to come seemed to be the final strain on Sarah's 
nerves. 

"Oh God, Carol, I-I just can't go through with it. Phil and I didn't really 
know what we were getting into with all of this," and she dropped her head 
in her hands. "Phil needed the job Charlie Evans offered." 

"Well, why did you join?" Carol asked with sympathy in her voice. "You 
should have known after the first time you came to one of the parties." 

"Oh, it was too late then," she blubbered into her hands. "Phil just 
couldn't turn down the job offered him and we were so afraid of losing it 
with all the debts we have to pay for my mother's hospital bills and all. It 
really is a good job and we need it so badly." 

"You poor dear," Carol consoled, her heart going out to her. "You mean he 
gave Phil the job just to get at you?" 

"Y-Yes, he did. And he hasn't had me yet but he will now, and-and I know 
it's just going to be awful. I don't think I can stand having him or the 
others touch me." 

"But didn't you like it the first time?" 

"No, no I didn't, but I did it for Phil and now he's not here. He's off with 
someone else doing the same thing. It's just horrible, horrible." 

Carol started to say something about the way she and Bob became involved but 
decided against it. It wouldn't help Sarah and besides, she might say 
something to the others and they mustn't find out they had become members 
just to take advantage of the accounts Bob would get. 

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now. You just relax and let things 
take their course. You'll see how easy it will be-and fun too," she added as 
an afterthought, hoping to cheer her up. 

"I-I don't care, I just can't and I'm not going to." 

"Here, here, what's all the fuss?" Harry Burns came through the kitchen door 
with a grin on his face. "Let me fix up the drinks, it looks like you girls 
are empty." 

He took the glasses and patted Sarah intimately on the buttocks as she kept 
her face turned away from him so that he could not see her tears. 

"You know," Carol said quietly as he left the room. 

"You don't have a choice under the rules. Once you've accepted membership 
you've got to do it. It would ruin Phil if you didn't." 

"Oh God, I know, I know," she whimpered again but suddenly straightened up 
again and turned back to the stove as Harry re-entered carrying their fresh 
drinks. 

"They're good and strong now," he joked jovially. "Now let's get on with 
these steaks. Old Daddy here needs some energy to make this little dolly eat 
her words about being able to take us all on." 

"Oh Harry, damn it, get out of here," she laughed back, playfully squirming 
away. "You'll get your chance, don't worry." 

Harry opened several bottles of wine for the dinner and they all ate 
voraciously from the effect of the cool mountain air and the long trip up 
from the coast. The others laughed and joked while they ate and Carol could 
notice Evans' eyes drifting over to Sarah almost devouring her luscious 
young body right at the table. She sat quiet and said little unless asked a 
question. 

"Come on, Sarah, cheer up," Jack Sherman said when he noticed the sadness in 
her face. "We'll get to you girls soon, you don't have to look so 
impatient." 

The others burst out in laughter at his joke and at the same time Harry, 
finishing his steak, rose from the table and began rummaging in his bag. He 
pulled out several reels of 8 millimeter film and presented them proudly to 
the others. 

"New stuff, it just came in and boy, is it hot," he announced. "Now come on 
let's get with it." 

Carol looked over at Sarah and noticed that she was ready to burst into 
tears again from the announcement that things were to begin. The men had 
risen from the table and had gathered around the fire with their after 
dinner drinks in their hands. She reached warmly over and clasped Sarah's 
hand in hers, whispering to her. 

"Remember Phil's job, you've got to go through with it even if it kills 
you." 

The poor tortured girl sat still for a moment and then nodded her head in 
helpless acceptance without speaking. 

Harry threaded the projector in one corner of the room and focused it on the 
screen on the opposite wall while the others pulled out a huge king-sized 
mattress from the corner and flopped down on it in the center of the floor. 
They left room between them for the girls who followed a moment later and 
lay down beside them. Harry grabbed some large pillows and threw them over 
to Jack who arranged them behind everyone so they could relax fully to get a 
good view of the screen. 

Carol was flanked on the outside by Jack with Charlie Evans in the middle. 
Sarah was next to him with Harry lying on her outside. It was apparent from 
the helpless trapped look on Sarah's face that a deep battle was raging 
within her over whether or not to fight the inevitable. She pulled heavily 
on her drink and Carol could see her hand shaking as though she were 
freezing. Charlie Evans had noticed it too and it was apparent he was 
enjoying her tortured discomfort. 

The picture flicked on, brightening the room a bit from its light. It was 
the age old story of a seduction with a neighbor calling on a young innocent 
housewife in the next apartment after she had kissed her husband goodbye for 
work. There was the usual foreplay with the woman fighting for all she was 
worth at first, then slowly succumbing to the man. He fucked her on the 
living room couch for awhile and made her suck him and then he went to the 
door and motioned outside. A huge man appeared, obviously a friend who had 
been waiting until the other man had seduced her. He entered and stripped 
his clothes off quickly while the poor girl lay huddled in terror back 
against the couch. Then he fucked her the same way for awhile while the 
first man made her suck him. They both worked her over in various ways, one 
at a time, then both together until it could be seen they were all cumming 
at one time in a wild three-way orgasm. 

It was the climax that started the real excitement among the group watching 
it from the mattress. Carol heard a sudden sucking in of breath and saw 
Evans' hand lifting Sarah's dress slowly up her legs. She had raised her 
head from the pillow and was looking down glassy-eyed and helpless as she 
could feel her thighs slowly being exposed to the sight of those around her. 
Carol though for a minute she was going to scream and tear herself from the 
bed but suddenly the wild look of revulsion faded from her face and one of 
helpless resignation crossed over it. Her head fell loosely back to the 
pillow, her eyes clenched tightly shut. She obviously had thought of Phil 
and his job and what it would mean to them if she resisted now. Her spirit 
was completely broken. 

Carol watched in aroused fascination, her own excitement rising at the sight 
of Charlie Evan's hands as they began their lewd seductive movements over 
Sarah's full, young form laying helpless before him. He obviously, was a 
master of humiliation like Harry Burns only in a more sadistic and serious 
sense. Evidently he had waited a long time to get her this way and it was 
apparent he was not going to let her off easily. 

Sarah's dress was up to the top of her thighs now and the flimsy whiteness 
of her panties came into view. Tiny, soft strands of dark silky pubic hair 
could be seen flowing out from under the tight elastic leg bands around her 
vagina. 

"Open your thighs," Evans breathed down at her, a cruel, unyielding glint 
sparkling lewdly in his eyes. 

Carol held her breath as the young helpless newlywed obediently spread her 
legs a few inches. A tear of shame coursed down her soft cheek. 

"More than that, honey," Harry chimed in, a lewd excited grin on his face 
too. "We wanna see that tight little pussy of yours." 

Sarah spread her thighs wider but Evans, losing patience, grabbed her knees 
and forced them sharply apart, bringing a whimper of protest from Sarah's 
lips and exposing the full of her crotch to the men's leering eyes. Charlie 
reached down and with one quick swipe of his hands ripped the flimsy silk 
panties away without giving her a chance to close her legs. 

"Oooooh, don't, you're tearing them, you're tearing them," she groaned as 
the soft raw flesh of her vaginal slit came into view. 

"Now don't you worry, honey," Harry grinned over her. "Daddy'll buy you a 
new pair. Maybe six of 'em before the weekend's over." 

"Boy, I'm gonna enjoy fucking that. Look at that soft little pink opening. 
It's gonna start jerking in a minute, just begging for something to stretch 
it about two more inches apart," Charlie grinned. 

Carol watched this lewd humiliation of Sarah with mixed emotions. It was 
exciting her, God, how it was exciting her and yet she felt a slight tinge 
of pity coursing through her for the helpless young girl who was being 
subjected to such a thing after such a short period of marriage. At least, 
she and Bob had been married for three years before it happened. She could 
see her lying there with her legs apart probably feeling more naked and 
ashamed than she had ever felt in her life. She didn't even try to stop the 
tears rolling down her cheeks now and they gushed over the side of her face 
and wet the pillow below her head in piteous streams of shame. She was 
forced to lie almost naked beneath those two vile, filthy old men and accept 
their crude caresses and lewd words without resistance. 

"She'll be a good fuck," Harry observed, his head peering over between her 
legs where Charlie held them apart. 

He reached forward and ran his middle finger up the tightly closed slit, 
parting the soft vaginal hairs and feeling the smooth, moist, pink flesh 
beneath jerk against his sudden contact. He dug it slightly into her tight 
little vaginal opening feeling her shiver from the sudden sensation. 

Carol could feel the pit of her belly and thighs hot and moist from the lewd 
spectacle before her. She was aware dimly of Jack's hands working at the 
zipper on the back of her slacks and lifted her buttocks slightly as he 
opened it to allow him to draw them down over the rounded moons of her ass. 
She wore no panties and drew in her breath deliciously as the warm air of 
the heated room swirled about her unprotected genitals. She could hear him 
rustling out of his clothes behind her as she kept her eyes glued to the 
obscene positioning of Sarah's helpless body in front of her. Jack placed 
his hands on her hips and lifted her in a kneeling position so that she was 
on all fours with her face looking over Charlie's body at Sarah next to him. 
And then, she felt the hardness of Jack's cock scraping and rubbing against 
the moist lips of her own cunt. She was ready, and reached back under her 
body, grasping his rigid prick and pulling it forward until she felt the hot 
throbbing head insinuating itself between the little ridges of tender flesh 
on either side of her pussy. He pressured forward slowly and with one long 
easy stroke slid it all the way up into her heaving belly. She moaned as she 
felt the head batter softly up against her cervix, buried as far in her cunt 
as it would go. Her mouth dropped loosely open and she began squirming back 
against him dog fashion as she felt him begin rotating it deep inside her. 
The head scraped deliciously against the far hidden walls of her womb in a 
sweet magical rhythm that brought swelling moans from deep in her throat as 
she kept her eyes tightly glued to Sarah's body still held tight between the 
two other men. 

They had stripped all of her clothes off now and she was completely naked 
and defenseless to their rummaging hands between her legs and over her 
breasts. She was completely open, Harry had drawn one of her legs up over 
his hips on one side and Charlie had drawn the other over his so that she 
was laying with her knees up in the air and her thighs wide apart, her 
crotch completely open to them. Charlie worked at her vagina now slowly and 
expertly insinuating his fingers, hurting slightly at first, so that she 
gasped and bit down on her lips to stem the pain. And then, he smoothed them 
around inside, sliding his other hand up under her buttocks and drawing them 
up tight against the hand in her cunt. She could not escape and lay back 
hopelessly impaled between the two. 

"She's getting wet," he grinned over at Harry, who had dropped his head to 
her nipples and was beginning to bring small mewls of half protest, half 
pleading from her clenched lips. 

"Is she ready to fuck?" he asked raising his head. "Almost, almost," Charlie 
breathed heavily. "I can feel it opening wider down inside." 

"Me first," Harry hissed. 

"No, both at once," Charlie said, a strange sadistic tone in his voice. 

"How?" 

"You in the front and me in the back." 

"We'll hurt her, that's against the rules." 

"Who'll complain?" 

"Her husband, you idiot." 

"No he won't," Charlie grinned as he continued his rummaging into the poor 
groaning girl's cunt, stretching it wider and wider with each further circle 
of his fingers. "He knows I'll fire him if he does." 

Carol couldn't believe her ears. Even through her burning passion that was 
coursing through her own body from Jack's cock skewering into her from 
behind, the impact of the words came through to her. God, they were going to 
sodomize her and fuck her at the same time. Sarah was too far gone in her 
shame and humiliation to resist anything they tried now and Carol was 
certain she would let them do anything they wanted to do her now with 
Charlie's threat to fire her husband. The obscene thought of the depraved 
unnatural ravishment about to take place right here a few inches in front of 
her face caused her to groan in guilty excitement and grind her own buttocks 
tighter back against Jack's undulating pelvis as he continued his long 
smooth strokes into her. 

Charlie suddenly withdrew his fingers from Sarah's widely expanded vagina 
and rose to the floor. 

"Turn her over," he hissed down to Charlie who still held her tight down on 
the mattress. He obediently moved up and caught her by the shoulders, 
twisting her around so that she was lying face down on the mattress. She lay 
without struggling, just small gasps of humiliation and shame coursing from 
her mouth. Her buttocks quivered slightly from her deep soulful sobs. 

Charlie stood on the edge of the mattress now completely stripped. He waited 
for a moment standing between her ankles which protruded over the side. His 
monstrous cock, long and white, stood out with thin blue lines of veins 
pulsating out around it. Carol's eyes opened wide in horrified wonder. God 
he would kill the girl. She could never take a thing like that in her 
rectum, he would split her in half. 

He stooped, and grabbing both of the sobbing girl's ankles, pressured out 
harshly, pulling her legs wide apart. 

"Oh no, please no," she whimpered as she felt the cool rush of air between 
her thighs. "I can't let you, I can't let you! Not that way!" 

She jerked and tried to rise. 

"Hold her, hold her," Charlie yelled to Harry who pushed his hand hard down 
into the small of her back pressing her back tight against the mattress. 
Sarah struggled for a moment and then laid still, her body shaking from the 
violently helpless pleadings rumbling unheard from her throat. 

Carol moaned involuntarily from the lewd scene as Evans dropped to his knees 
between the girl's legs, running his hands greedily over the long, firm 
muscles of Sarah's shaking calves and up the inside of her thighs to the 
moistened interior of her legs. The cleft between them was deep and inviting 
and Carol shuddered in rising excitement as he ran the edge of his hand down 
the smooth crease of Sarah's buttocks parting it slightly so that the tiny 
puckered anus was visible to her gaping eyes. Her own cunt throbbed from the 
effect of the indecent exposure and she could hear Jack gasp behind her as 
he felt her warm wet flesh jerk tighter around his cock. She moved forward 
an inch or so, so that her face was within a few inches of Sarah's quivering 
buttocks. She wanted to see it all, every tiny thing that happened and Jack, 
behind her, shuffled forward on his knees between her thighs so as not to 
lose the maddening contact. 

Evans leered down at the cowering girl and slowly drew aside the soft white 
mounds of her buttocks. Sarah groaned and tried to tense them together 
again, but he dug his fingers hard into her soft flaccid flesh and she 
relaxed and let him spread them apart as he wished. 

Carol, in her excitement, could hear him suck in his breath as the tiny ring 
of soft tender flesh came into view again. He pushed one hand down and 
thrust experimentally at it with his middle finger. Sarah jumped and cried 
out as she felt the unnatural intrusion into the tight rubbery opening and 
pressed her pelvis hard down into the mattress, her buttocks tensing tight 
together to try and escape the finger being thrust into her ass. It was 
useless and he thrust forward again sinking it to the first knuckle. 

"Aaaaag, God," she gasped piteously and clenched her ass together as tight 
as she could, trapping his hand between the hardened cheeks. 

"Open it," he commanded brutally, pushing down with all his strength and 
popping his finger through the desperate but useless resistance past the 
second knuckle. She groaned aloud and in piteous submission relaxed, her 
backside limp to be used as he wished. 

As he scoured mercilessly into her abused anus with his finger, widening and 
preparing it for the greater entry to come, Carol could see his other hand 
stroking and preparing this thick veined cock for the final and ultimate 
humiliation of the defenseless young newlywed spread-eagled on her belly 
beneath him. He pulled the thick foreskin back, exposing the huge round 
bulbous head. It was monstrous and he aimed it directly at the tiny puckered 
hole now stretched wide from the rummaging of his middle finger. 

He opened her buttocks wide again with his thumbs, withdrawing his finger 
and leaning forward to drop a large drop of spittle from his lips to moisten 
and lubricate his entry. Then, he leaned forward pressing the whole of his 
body into her back, the thick full length of his cock lay pressed into the 
crevice of her ass, the tip resting against the tiny throbbing hole wet from 
his spit. He pushed his hands under her loins again and stretched the white 
soft moons apart. Levering himself up on his elbows, he pressed slightly 
with his hips for a moment, directing his rock hard instrument straight into 
the tightly clenched orifice of her ass. 

Carol held her breath for what seemed an eternity and then groaned as she 
saw the unrelenting staff pop suddenly through the tight restricting ring of 
flesh. She watched with open mouth, tongue hanging loosely from her lips, as 
she saw the tiny stretched anus slipping over and clasping the tip of Evan's 
cock like a rubber band. He grinned above her like an evil avenging devil 
and thrust his hips hard down again sinking his rod halfway to the hilt. 
Sarah cried out with pain, the sound muffled by the pillow pressing into her 
face, and flailed her legs on either side of him struggling hopelessly to 
escape the cruel impalement. 

Her buttocks jerked and twisted beneath him, trying to throw him off, but 
her desperate struggles only worsened her position. With each buck of her 
body his cock skewered into her tightly-resisting anus another cruel and 
painful inch, until finally ... 

"Aaaaaaag, Uuuugh!" she gasped out the last of her strength and Evan's 
thick, huge cudgel slipped unimpeded into the warm rubbery depths of her 
rectum to the hilt. She jerked spasmodically for a moment and then lay still 
to ease the pain of the cruel and complete occupation of her asshole. It was 
useless to resist further as each throb of her body only served to widen and 
stretch the tiny cavern to greater and more painful dimensions. 

"Oooooh God, it's a tight little asshole," Evans hissed through clenched 
teeth above her. In spite of his desire to begin fucking into her ass 
immediately, he reached down grasping her firm rounded hips in his hands and 
pulled her to her knees, bending her body almost in double. He ground his 
teeth tight together and took several long smooth strokes into her, bringing 
a groan of pain and humiliation from her tortured lips each time he thrust 
forward. Harry Burns, beside the obscenely-coupled pair, was going out of 
his mind. He ran his hands wildly over her breasts and back, pinching and 
pulling at the soft flesh until he could stand it no longer. 

"Turn her over, damn it, turn her over," he fairly shouted at the 
preoccupied Evans. 

Evans, barely hearing his pleas, locked his hands tightly to Sarah's hips 
and rolled to the side, pulling her backwards on top of him. His huge, 
throbbing cock was still imbedded deep inside her anus as she lay full 
length on her back tight against his stomach and chest. Her legs splayed out 
limply on the outside of his legs, a low pleading mewl coming from her wet, 
tortured lips. 

Harry Burns lost no time. He leaped over between her widespread legs, 
straddling Evan's knees and pushed her thighs further apart still. He 
grasped his hard, aching cock in his hands and guided it without a moment's 
delay deep into the moist open cavern of her pussy. 

"Oooooooh," she groaned as it slithered deep inside her belly, joining 
Evans' cock already buried there in her rectum. She lay moaning and sobbing 
from the pain and shame, sandwiched between the two of them, impaled between 
their cocks like an insect, with only the thin wall of flesh between her 
anus and cunt separating the two vicious instruments. 

There was no delay. Harry Burns already excited from watching Evans' cruel 
rape of her anus began to furiously fuck into her hot, moist pussy while 
Evans beneath, began thrusting up with long hard strokes into the depths of 
her rectum. It took a moment, but then they began a natural rhythm, 
buffeting her between them like a sack of soft resilient foam rubber. She 
was uttering a single low whine which went on and on all the time they 
ground into her but interrupted occasionally by a deep grunt from her chest 
as they smacked into her body with harder and harder force. 

Carol watched mesmerized, her eyes a scant few inches from where the two 
thick cudgels skewered into Sarah's wide stretched loins like twin battering 
rams. Her excited lust-dimmed eyes watched the moist long cocks-wet their 
full lengths from Sarah's vaginal secretions-fucking into her. She could see 
the ragged pink edges of her cunt drawing back with Harry's cock on the 
outstroke and disappearing back inside as he rammed it home again deep in 
her belly. The same was true with the tight clasping opening of her wide 
stretched asshole as Evans screwed into it with a demonic fury. On and on it 
went as she knelt before Jack screwing into her from behind like a wild man, 
he too excited by the obscene spectacle of two men ravishing the soft young 
girl between them at the same time. 

And then, the impossible happened. 

As Carol knelt in subservient excitement in front of the helpless Sarah she 
suddenly heard the low whining moans of pain change, almost imperceptibly at 
first, and then to a tone that left no room for doubt. It was a low whimper 
of passionate pleading. 

She was beginning to enjoy it! 

It was a strange kind of masochistic joy, perhaps from the very helplessness 
of her position or from the lewd, obscene thought of being fucked half to 
death by two men at once like this. But whatever it was she began to feel 
it. Her hips began to move backwards to meet the upthrust of Evan's cramming 
it into her rectum and then forward again to swallow the whole of Harry 
Burns' plunging cock into her suddenly hot steaming pussy. Her whole body 
undulated between the two men and her buttocks moved in tiny abandoned 
circles. 

"Ooooh, oooooh, oooooh," she chanted on and on in time to their crushing 
thrusts against her cunt and asshole. Wilder and wilder they became, 
punishing her between them like a puppet. All three of their coarse groans 
intermingled in a symphony of mad sexual abandonment. 

Sarah screamed first. 

"Aaaaaahg," and then a longer one. "Aaaaaaaahggg! Oh God, keep on ... keep 
on!" 

The poor helpless girl was out of her mind with desire now and began sobbing 
out her orgasm that seemed to go on and on until Carol thought it would 
never stop. The men, sensing their total conquest of her body and mind, both 
plunged forward at the same time imbedding their suddenly wild ejaculating 
cocks deep into her pussy and asshole and pumped their sperm far, far up 
into her heaving belly. They collapsed in a spent and satiated heap for a 
moment. Harry Burns rolling from off the top of her body his penis, still 
hard in spite of his orgasm, slipping from her wide-stretched cunt with a 
wet sucking noise that could be heard the full length of the room. Sarah lay 
still, flat on her back on top of Evans. His cock was still imbedded deep in 
her anus and she looked as though she were in a daze. Her legs wide apart so 
that the tiny pink edges of her vagina could still be seen wet and 
glistening, the thick stump of Evans' cock protruding from her rectum below. 

Carol was going out of her mind now. The sight of the helpless, innocent 
Sarah going stark raving mad the way she did and turning into a sex-crazed 
maniac was just too much. She had to have it ... and just the way Sarah did. 
Nothing else would do. 

She slid forward desperately, dislodging Jack's still driving cock from her 
pussy and turning back to him, hissed over her shoulder. 

"Put it in my ass, the way Charlie just did. Quick, damn it, quick!" 

Jack, without needing further encouragement, placed the throbbing, 
blood-filled head against her tiny tight anal opening and thrust forward 
with all his strength. 

"Oooooooh, God, Aaaaaag," Carol groaned, fighting to keep the tears of pain 
from flowing to her eyes. She didn't know it would hurt like this. It felt 
like a huge, red-hot steel rod being crammed between her legs. 

But, she didn't have time to object further. Jack, locking her tight to him 
with his hands on her hips, rolled over in the same position Evans had had 
Sarah in, his cock imbedded deep up her rectum. Harry Burns needed no 
further invitation and jumped between her widespread legs and rammed it home 
deep in her belly. After awhile it didn't hurt anymore and they fucked her 
and fucked her, until she thought she would never cum again. Orgasm after 
orgasm flooded through her until finally she was too drained to even move. 
The rejuvenated men buffeted her limp form between them for hours like a rag 
doll until at last the two finished and spurted their hot, white sperm deep 
in her widely-expanded twin passages. 

As they rolled from her body, both spent for the moment, she caught a 
glimpse out of the corner of her eye of Evans furiously fucking Sarah again. 
Only, this time, there were no anguished pleas for mercy. She had her legs 
drawn back up tight against her chest with her ankles locked behind his 
neck. His cock was sunk completely to the hilt in the moist, hot slit of her 
vagina. Carol could see the wide stretched lips of the now-hungry tight cunt 
almost crawl up the full length of him as Sarah moaned and purred beneath 
him. 

The thought, "well, welcome to the club" suddenly ran ridiculously through 
her mind. 

After this, the weekend ran its course rapidly. Everyone made love to 
everyone else in a thousand different ways but somehow it never seemed to 
reach the same intense emotional state it did that first few hours. Sarah 
never made an objection after her initial one and Charlie Evans got all of 
it he wanted, So did the others. Carol was happy when Sunday afternoon 
finally rolled around. She was tired and one could only take so much sex. A 
lot maybe ... but still there's a limit on everyone. 

It was Sunday morning and summer had come again. The long, lithe blonde 
turned lazily on the floor. One could detect the movement was a painful one, 
possibly because of the hangover she carried. 

"Bob, for God Sake's, get away from that window and stop ogling that new 
neighbor of ours. Haven't you looked enough?" 

"Not on your life, chicken," he replied with a wide grin. "I've got my 
sights set on that." 

"You'll never make it," his wife looked up at him impatiently. 

"Don't be too sure," he smiled, walking over and sitting down beside her. 
"I've got a plan and you're gonna help me make it work." 

He smoothed his hand down over her firm rounded buttocks and suddenly 
without warning shoved it up under her robe to her naked crotch. 

"Ah, no pants, just as I thought." 

Carol jumped forward and shrieked, trying to escape the teasing rummaging 
between her legs. 

"Damn you, Bob Benson," she giggled as she fought to force his hand down 
from between her legs. 

"Gonna help me?" 

"Yes," she giggled again as he moved his hand more rapidly. "Yes, yes, 
anything you say." 

Next door, Ellen Jensen pushed the lawnmower with a light smile on her face. 
She was really happy for the first time since she and Dick had married last 
year. The new house was really wonderful and the neighborhood the most plush 
thing she had ever seen. She had always had dreams about living in a place 
like this since her childhood and now, it had all come true. Dick with his 
new job and all had wanted to wait another year before making a move like 
this but she had pressured him into it after a long argument. She was sure 
they could make out alright if she budgeted everything well and if the bank 
would approve that loan they needed so badly. She had heard their neighbor 
had a real important position at the main office. 

Maybe Dick should go over tomorrow and see if perhaps he could do something 
for them. After all, it couldn't hurt anything to ask. 


THE END
