Weekend With The Boss
by Winston McElroy 


FOREWORD 

These are troubled times we live in, times when many of us are afraid to 
pick up the morning newspaper and read of the latest scandals and 
brutalities. The world's highly developed systems of communication and 
transportation have made us all too aware of the enormity of man's 
inhumanity to man, and the average man feels utterly helpless to do anything 
to help his society. 

Of course there exist those of us who are too caught up in personal problems 
to worry about the news, who feel disinterested rather than impotent. Both 
sorts of people often fail to see that it is the same basic human jealousy, 
greed, and stupidity which wreaks havoc in their homes and plasters 
horrifying headlines on the newspapers. Perhaps if more Americans thought 
clearly about this, they would take more care with the way they tend their 
own gardens. 

In Winston McElroy's bitingly realistic new novel, Weekend With The Boss, he 
takes the background of his native Midwest and a cast of typical well 
meaning but ill-advised people to make his point about humanity's 
responsibility toward humanity. None of these characters - not even Claudia, 
the intelligent and beautiful red-haired model who concocts the plan which 
eventually destroys some of them - seems to give serious thought to any 
motivation save their own selfish satisfactions. They rationalize that they 
are trying to save their friends' floundering marriage, but in fact they are 
only trying to gratify their respective egos. 

What is tragic, almost terrifying, about this powerful story is that at the 
end all of them are apparently as unthinking and uncaring as before. A 
marriage has been wrecked instead of mended, with both the young husband and 
wife vanished to some unspecified but surely unhappy fate, yet their 
"friends" have learned no lessons, and they themselves have been weakened 
rather than strengthened by their ordeal. 

What author McElroy has shown in this fast-paced, painfully realistic novel 
is a microcosm of society itself, and this is a book none of us can afford 
to ignore. Although the publishers cannot recommend it to the emotionally 
immature for reasons of its stark, often shocking portrayal of real life, 
they strongly urge that all thinking Americans read it and pass a few 
minutes thinking seriously about it afterward. 

-The Publishers 

 CHAPTER ONE 

The last rays of the setting sun filtered through the well-polished picture 
window of the Marstons' new white frame ranch house, lighting the face of 
the young brunette peering anxiously up and down the suburban street with a 
rosy pink radiance. Two seventh-grade boys whizzing by on their bicycles 
stared appreciatively at her shapely silhouette outlined against the large 
plate-glass window, their eager adolescent eyes lingering on her swelling 
breasts in her tight summer T-shirt, but the newly married young woman was 
too preoccupied to notice their lewd stares. 

"Where is Mitch?" she muttered to herself. "He said he'd be home by 
six-thirty so he'd have time to change and still make it over to the 
Vardens' by seven, and he's never been late before." 

Much to the disappointment of the youngsters who'd circled around on their 
bikes for another tantalizing glimpse of their sexy new neighbor, Vicki 
Marston turned forlornly away from the window and wandered into the kitchen 
for another look at the German potato salad she'd fixed for the barbecue at 
Vince and Dale Varden's home. She'd insisted on bringing something along 
even though Dale, who'd been one of her best friends since high school days 
and who was well aware of the Marstons' precarious financial position, had 
told her not to bother. As it was, she felt overly indebted to her blonde 
friend whose husband had gotten Mitch a job in his TV repair shop after the 
younger man's return from Vietnam. Why if it hadn't been for that, they 
still might not be married, for Mitch was old-fashioned enough to feel a man 
should be able to support his wife. 

"Oh God," she sighed, remembering how extraordinarily joyful she'd been that 
day last spring when her high-school sweetheart had finally landed the job 
and presented her with an engagement ring. Now, five short months later, he 
was coming home late, and her own heart was filled with dread at the 
prospect of seeing him. Normally, she enjoyed spending time with Dale and 
her handsome husband Vince, but this evening she was so ill at ease over 
what had happened yesterday that she felt that even a glamorous night of 
wining and dining in nearby Lexington could not have raised her spirits. 

"And it's not just last night, not really," she muttered into the potato 
salad. "Things have been going downhill ever since our honeymoon ..." 

A cloud dimmed Vicki's deep-blue eyes, and the blood drained from her 
ordinarily rosy cheeks, leaving her fair-skinned face nearly as white as her 
conscientiously scrubbed kitchen appliances. In her mind's eye she was 
seeing an unwanted picture of the white bridal suite in their honeymoon 
hotel as she, clad in a romantic lace negligee, cringed fearfully on the 
bed. Her new husband, his familiar face contorted with lust, lunged toward 
her with his enormous penis brandished in one hand and his breath coming in 
harsh, bestial gasps. Even though months had passed since that terrifying 
night when she'd lost her virginity, Vicki still shuddered at the memory. 

"No! I won't think about it!" she vowed to the empty kitchen. 

Despite the unhappy young wife's best resolves, however, the obscene images 
continued to dance in her brain. Once again, she was seeing Mitch's 
lust-reddened eyes boring through her honeymoon lingerie, then feeling his 
frenzied fingers pulling away the flimsy fabric to expose her virginal body. 

"No, Mitch, please!" she'd pleaded in genuine fright as he clutched at the 
sensitive mounds of her full breasts. "Please, be gentle! Not like this!" 

The expression on the desire-deranged bridegroom's face had grown even more 
animalistic, and her pitiful plea had only seemed to infuriate him. With a 
guttural grunt, he'd leapt upon her helpless body with such force that the 
wind was knocked from her lungs. 

"Mitch! Stop!" she'd wailed as soon as she could catch her breath. 

"I've been waiting four goddamn years for this!" he'd growled in the voice 
of a stranger. "Now you're my wife, and I'm going to fuck you, whether you 
like it or not!" 

For the next ten pain-filled minutes he'd done exactly that, attacking her 
unprepared body as though she were a hated enemy rather than the woman he'd 
loved and desired for so many long years. Without thought of how he might be 
hurting her, he forced his thickly swollen shaft of male flesh hard into the 
weeping bride's untouched vagina, brutally shattering her maidenhead even as 
she screamed in agony for him to stop. 

Then finally, after a seeming eternity of horror, his panting, sweat-slick 
loins had collapsed prostrate of top of her, pinning her pain-wracked body 
to the mattress. The room swam before her eyes as wave after wave of raw 
agony shot from her bruised nerve-endings up to her brain. As Mitch's 
deflated penis slipped at last from her ravished pussy with a lewd popping 
sound, she knew that her mother had been right, after all: sex was nothing 
but a disgusting, filthy, and inhumanly painful degradation! 

The next morning Mitch had been so sincerely contrite about his uncontrolled 
assault that Vicki had to forgive him. Yet though she could accept 
intellectually that the sight of her naked, available flesh had simply been 
too much for him after four years of sexual frustration in the service, 
emotionally something inside her had been injured beyond repair. Try as she 
might, she could not respond with pleasure to their tender lovemaking that 
next night, or any night thereafter. No matter how careful and gentle Mitch 
tried to be, she still felt nothing but nervous panic and pain. 

Sighing mournfully, Vicki managed to push the unpleasant honeymoon memories 
from her mind, only to find them replaced by an even more disturbing vision 
of last night's fiasco. Her husband had acted strange from the minute he 
came home, kissing her in the way she now loathed by pushing his tongue in 
her mouth. In high school days, she'd loved "french kissing", had grown 
excited by it; but now she knew it meant Mitch was in a sexy mood and she 
would have to force herself to endure it. 

The real trouble had commenced after dinner when they began watching their 
new color TV, which they'd been able to buy at a special discount when he 
got the job at Varden's TV Repair Workshop. She'd not been paying much 
attention to the old Marilyn Monroe movie as she leafed through the new 
September issue of McCalls, but apparently her husband was very attentive to 
the voluptuous blonde movie star. 

Suddenly Mitch had edged close to her on the couch and run his hand over her 
red-checked blouse, and whispered, "She sure is sexy. Looks kinda like you 
would if you were blonde." 

She'd tried to laugh off his obvious arousal, lightly suggesting a nice cold 
beer, some potato chips, perhaps a snack, but Mitch was not to be deterred. 
His green eyes glowed with that lecherous fire she so dreaded, and before 
she had a chance to escape into the kitchen his hands stole beneath her 
cotton shirt. 

"No, baby," he insisted. "I wanna eat this lovely body of yours, nothing 
else!" 

She assumed he wanted to kiss her breasts, a habit of his which she found 
rather perverted, but stoically tolerated. "No, Mitch, please," she 
protested softly. "Not now ..." 

The young husband, irritated at her lack of enthusiasm, suddenly took on the 
expression she so well remembered from their disastrous first honeymoon 
night. It was as though uncontrolled animal instincts were once again taking 
control as he dropped to the floor with a guttural groan and started pushing 
her knees apart. 

"NO!" Vicki wailed, rally panicking as she saw what he had in mind. A wave 
of terror surged through her innocent body, and she clamped her thighs 
together with all her might. 

"Yeah, baby!" Mitch muttered, forcing them apart again with his strong 
fingers. "Lemme kiss your sweet pussy like I've always wanted to do!" 

How could he suggest anything so horrible, so unnatural? "Are you crazy?" 
she gasped, leaping to her feet. "What's got into you, Mitch?" 

He glared at her balefully for a long minute and then turned angrily away, 
muttering something she couldn't quite understand but which sounded obscene. 
Then, without so much as a backward glance, he slammed out of the room. A 
moment later she heard the car squealing away into the night. Shaking with 
emotion, she'd locked herself in the bedroom and cried herself to sleep long 
before her husband returned home. 

"And now maybe he's never coming back because I locked him out," she 
muttered, placing the potato salad back in the fridge and impulsively 
pouring herself a glass of white wine. Normally the nineteen year old wife 
didn't drink much - certainly never alone - but at the moment she decided 
her flagging spirits needed a boost if she were ever to face the Varden's 
barbeque party tonight. "God, I hate sex! It's ruining our marriage! I must 
have been crazy all the time we were dating in high school when I thought 
sex was going to be the most wonderful thing in the world ..." 

Vicki remembered all the conversations she and Dale Collins, now Dale 
Varden, had had during their teens about this subject. Dale and their other 
good friend, a redhead called Claudia Champlin, had run with a more wild 
crowd than she, but they'd still remained close to her. How she'd envied 
Dale and Claudia their happy-go-lucky attitude toward making out and even 
losing their virginity... and yet simultaneously she'd known in her heart 
that keeping herself pure for Mitch was more important than "kicks". As her 
mother was fond of saying, men didn't marry the females with whom they sowed 
their wild oats. 

"Maybe I was all wrong ..." she mused now, thinking how happily married Dale 
and her husband Vince seemed, and how sadly her own marriage was 
floundering. "Everyone always said Mitch and I had a marriage made in 
heaven, after we'd stuck together for so long without ever breaking up once. 
But look what's come of it... " 

The white wine made the non-drinker feel rather dizzy and she set it down on 
the counter. It was no use going to Dale and Frank's feeling out of control 
- she might break down and let on that her marriage was a hideous failure, 
at least in bed, and she was too proud to let her best friend know her 
shameful secret. 

"But if Mitch doesn't come home, then there'll be no need to pretend 
anything," she muttered sadly. "Oh God, I wish I didn't love him so much. 
Then it wouldn't matter! I could go away and start a new life and never 
think about men or sex again!" 

But the fact remained that she did love her well-built, fair-haired husband, 
and that the thought of never seeing him again filled her with despair. 
Could it be her own fault, perhaps, that things weren't turning out happily? 
After all, Dale and Claudia both enjoyed sex; and Vince Varden seemed much 
more rough and animalistic than her own husband, always telling smutty jokes 
and playing with Dale's voluptuous breasts in public. Perhaps she was the 
one who was abnormal .. . and if so, what in God's name was she going to do 
about it? 

Chapter TWO 

Much to Vicki Marston's relief, her husband had seemed to want to forget 
last night's unpleasantness just as much as she did. They'd spoken only of 
inconsequential subjects on the short drive across the little Kansas town of 
Cedarburg to the Vardens' split-level home, and hesitant smiles had even 
been exchanged as they walked around to their friends' backyard patio. 

It had been several weeks since they'd seen their friends, for the Vardens 
had spent their summer vacation in Los Angeles visiting Vince's older 
brother Art who was part owner of a popular nightclub. Although it had been 
several years now since Art had paid a visit to his small home town, his 
ultimate success story remained one of the main topics of conversation even 
among those who'd not known him well. Now Vicki felt her own pressing 
problems being overshadowed by curiosity about the exciting vacation, for 
she longed to travel although she'd never been out of Kansas except for a 
high school excursion to Chicago. 

As they reached the neatly landscaped backyard, Dale Varden came bursting 
out the back door clad in tight hip-hugging jeans and a halter so skimpy 
that Mitch let out a loud wolf whistle. Laughing, pleased by the attention 
in a way Vicki could never have been, she embraced first Mitch then Vicki, 
kissing them on both cheeks in the French way which she'd affected since 
high school days. The intimate physical contact always embarrassed her girl 
friend somewhat, but Vicki knew it was just Dale's way like her flirtatious 
manner of talking and low-cut blouses. 

"Oh Vicki, I told you not to bother," Dale gestured toward the foil-covered 
bowl of potato salad. "Anyway we decided to go out instead. I couldn't find 
any meat at the A&P but chicken, and Vince doesn't like that and anyway we 
wanted to try out this new place over by the freeway. Okay with you guys?" 

Without waiting for an answer, the petite blonde motioned them in the back 
door. "C'mon, let's have a drink first. Vince is mixing up something special 
we had in L.A." 

Dale kept up a brisk flow of her usual exuberant conversation as she led 
them through the large colonial style kitchen, her fully rounded buttocks 
jiggling provocatively inside her skin-tight Levi's as she bounced along in 
her ex-cheerleader walk. Vicki glanced around her, once again admiring the 
room which was so cozy and old-fashioned yet possessed all the most modern 
appliances. Like his brother, Vince was a real go-getter, there certainly 
weren't many men of twenty-six who could afford a beautiful new split-level 
like this. It was a good thing Mitch was working with him now, and maybe 
someday she too could have a wonderful brick wallpapered kitchen with real 
copper pots on the walls. 

Mitch Marsten was feeling just as much envious longing as his pretty 
brunette's wife, but the object of his emotions was Dale Varden's tempting 
physique rather than her period-piece kitchen. Just the mere sight of those 
tautly twitching ass-cheeks produced an immediate thick swelling inside his 
jeans, and instinct told him that the blonde's aura of sensuality was not a 
deception as was the case with his own dark-haired wife. Besides, things got 
around in a small town like this . .. and if even half the stories about 
Dale were true, her husband was one hell of a lucky guy. 

The three young people stepped into the white-walled living room just as 
Vince was adding the finishing touches to four tall drinks. 

"Hey, great to see you guys!" he flashed them a jovial grin as he dribbled 
the final drops of gold liquid from a very tall bottle into the orange juice 
filled glasses. "You're looking prettier than ever, Vicki!" 

What was it about the way Vince looks at me that always made me feel naked? 
Vicki asked herself as she accepted the proffered drink with a rather 
awkward smile. It's something about his eyes - they make me think of the way 
Mitch's looked last night when he wanted to kiss me down there. .. 

"You're looking pretty good yourself!" Mitch flopped easily down on the 
black leather couch. "Lookit that California suntan!" He took a sip of his 
drink, started in surprise, then took another. "Hey man, what's this stuff? 
It's real good." 

"It's called a Harvey Wallbanger!" Dale broke in giggling. "'Cause is you 
have too many you'll be banging into the walls! It's got that Italian stuff 
in it." She waved toward the tall bottle of gold liquid on the built-in bar. 

Vicki gingerly sampled the cocktail as Vince started telling them about the 
good times they'd had drinking in his brother's ritzy nightclub, and the 
famous people they'd seen there. To her surprise she liked the concoction 
which lacked the alcoholic taste she normally disliked in martinis and 
Scotch, and since she didn't realize the drink also contained vodka, she 
allowed herself to be talked into a second one. By the time the two couples 
made their way out to their cars, the inexperienced blonde was so 
intoxicated that she'd quite forgotten yesterday's quarrel and snuggled up 
on the front seat beside her husband, just like in the old days when they'd 
been dating and this allowable contact was enough to sent sparks of 
excitement charging between them. 

They could see the restaurant's neon sign flashing from about a mile away on 
the dark flat prairie road. The Farmhouse, it proclaimed in gold and then 
Real Home Cooking played first red then green then blue across the 
star-sprinkled sky. As they drew nearer, they could make out the lights of 
the interstate highway snaking away toward the horizon, and the indistinct 
shapes of the other buildings which had popped up the moment the new freeway 
exit was put in this summer. 

"Gee Mitch," Vicki sighed, taking hold of her husband's arm for support as 
they made their way across the gravel parking lot. "Look at all the out of 
state license plates - Illinois, California, oooooh, there's one from 
Canada. It sure would be nice to take a trip like Dale and Vince did . . . " 

The sandy-haired husband squeezed his wife's arm, feeling grateful that she 
wasn't holding a grudge against him for last night's incident. Probably he 
had been too abrupt - Christ, though, he'd been too horny to stop himself - 
and anyway, it was no use blaming Vicki because she wasn't as open about 
sexuality as her girl friend Dale. He really did love his slender brunette 
wife and couldn't imagine being married to anyone else. Surely, if he were 
patient and gentle she'd soon get over these silly hangups. 

"Sure baby," he whispered into the softness of her flower-scented hair. "If 
things keep going good at the shop we'll be able to afford a vacation next 
summer. And energy crisis or not, people ain't going to give up their TV's 
you can bet on that." 

"Maybe we can go to the ocean," Vicki's voice shrilled with excitement. 
"I've always wanted to see it... " 

The Vardens' whose Chevrolet moved a good deal more quickly than the 
Marstens' oft-repaired old Valiant, were already seated in a candlelit booth 
at the back of the long wood-paneled room, talking to a curvaceous young 
waitress in a red-checked apron. 

"... only got pork chops and chicken. And lobster, but it costs more 'cause 
it's gotta be flown in frozen, y'know. An' shepherd's pie, that's the 
special of the day." She moved aside to make way for the second couple, 
staring at the handsome blond Mitch in the way so many women did, which 
always made his wife proud she'd married him. "Real hard to get enough 
steaks these days, y'know," she added apologetically. 

"Lobster for me," Vince decided. "And a bottle of red wine, what about 
that?" he glanced toward his friends. "We got into the wine habit in L.A." 

As the others placed their orders - pork chops for Dale and Mitch, chicken 
for Vicki -the young brunette found herself wondering about, her best girl 
friend's husband who sat across from her. When Dale, after running through 
about ten boyfriends and leaving them with broken hearts, finally got 
engaged to the seven year older Vince Varden, Vicki and everyone else in the 
Cederburg area had thought it was an excellent match. Now she wasn't so sure 
what she thought of Vince. Although she admired his hard-working ambitious 
character, there was a crude, almost brutal streak in the brawny man which 
made her faintly uncomfortably just sitting across from him. 

After a couple of glasses of red wine however, Vicki was feeling too relaxed 
for introspective contemplation. The sheltered nineteen year old had only 
been truly inebriated three times in her life - at a high school graduation 
party at Claudia Champlin's house where someone had dumped vodka into the 
punch, once on her honeymoon, once on a picnic with Dale and Vince. In the 
days before her marriage she'd strictly controlled her drinking after almost 
succumbing to Mitch's urgent demands at Claudia's party, and now she still 
didn't really like to drink ... it seemed somehow vulgar to her for a woman 
to be drunk. 

Tonight however, she felt a false euphoria flowing warmly through her 
bloodstream and understood why other people liked alcohol so much. All her 
nagging worries about her marriage had temporarily vanished, and she felt a 
pleasant glow from being together with old friends in cozy surroundings. In 
the candlelight, the Vardens' faces looked soft and kind, and Mitch's 
familiar features seemed more attractive than ever. Even "Aunt Minnie's 
farm-fried chicken tasted exceptionally tender and flavorsome to her. 

"What a nice restaurant!'" she exclaimed. "All these candles and all! We 
should go out more often!" 

"They're using candles 'cause it saves electricity," Vince remarked with a 
cynical smirk. "Takes a lot of bread to run all those dishwashing machines 
and shit in the kitchen," the waitress said. "But I agree about the going 
out, baby." 

Normally Vicki was irritated when her girl friend's husband used words like 
"shit" and when he called her "baby," but this evening she didn't even 
notice. 

"Oh I'm so sick of talking about this silly energy crisis," she said, 
accepting a refill of wine with a smile. She glanced toward her husband and 
Dale, but they seemed to be deep in conversation, apparently discussing 
their pork chops with home-fried apple slices. Turning back to Vince, she 
continued, "I like candles! And who needs beef? I read an article in Good 
Housekeeping that said it was bad for your heart - too much chlor - chol - 
well, too much something." 

"Okay, okay, let's not talk about the world falling to pieces," Vince 
agreed, flashing his undressing smile again. "I'm pretty damn fed up with 
all this talk, too, you bet I am. Say, have you heard the one about..." 

The brawny TV repairman began telling one of his off-color jokes, but Vicki 
didn't listen. She was watching Dale and Mitch and trying to suppress the 
slight twinge of irritation she felt at the chummy flirtatious way they 
treated one another. Of course it didn't really mean anything; she knew 
that; it had been this way even back in Cederburg High, and if Vince didn't 
mind when his wife kept "accidentally" bumping against her husband, why 
should she get upset about it. Taking a long sip of wine, she forced the 
ridiculous jealous impulses from her mind and pretended to be amused by the 
joke she hadn't heard.. 

By the time the two young couples had finished their main coursed and were 
drinking coffee and brandy with their "farm fresh fruit pies," the 
conversation had again swung around to the Los Angeles visit. Vince had a 
vague plan to start a nightclub in the Cederburg area, something for the 
interstate tourists and the locals who were loathe to drive all the way to 
Kansas City for a night on the town. His brother had offered to help finance 
such a venture and he hoped to be able to get a loan on the basis of his 
successful repair shop. 

"Credit's kinda tight right now," he said, pouring them all a glass of 
California brandy from the bottle the shapely waitress had left on their 
table. "But maybe after this political mess is cleared up, things'll get 
better." 

Mitch was enthusiastic about the idea, and the two men fell into a 
discussion upon which Vicki felt too intoxicated to concentrate. She turned 
her attention to Dale who was enthusing about Art's flamboyant life in Los 
Angeles. 

"You wouldn't believe the parties," she beamed at her girl friend, getting a 
wicked thrill from the fact that she was fondling Vicki's husband's foot 
with her own underneath the table while she talked to the unsuspecting girl. 
"Really wild - I mean, really wild! And the clothes! You have to see the 
outtasight dress I bought! I don't dare wear it around here in stuffy old 
Cederburg!" 

"Sure you do!" Vicki slurred. "I remember when the miniskirt first came in 
and you wore one to school, and Principal Prentiss sent you home to change!" 

"Yeah!" Dale giggled. "And he sure spent a long time measuring that little 
skirt with a tape measure, the horny old bastard!" 

Vicki giggled too, thinking of the bald headed pompous high school 
principal. "Wow," she remarked "It sure seemed like a long time ago. 

We were only freshmen then . . . and now we're old married women." 

"Yeah, time sure hurries on," Dale agreed. "I'm checking in the mirror for 
lines and gray hairs," she added in the confident tones of a young and 
attractive woman who has not yet had to face the reality of witnessing the 
degeneration of her flesh. "I've bought all sorts of weird anti-wrinkle 
creams in L.A. - you can get all sorts of super stuff there, let me tell 
you." 

"Gee, I sure wish I could do some traveling," the intoxicated brunette said. 
"Maybe next summer we can go out to California." 

"That's where it's happening, really. I mean on the coast they really let it 
all hang, loose, if you know what I mean. Here, lemme show you some photos 
..." 

Vince's loud voice ceased abruptly at the sound of the word "photos," and he 
turned eagerly toward his wife. 

"Yeah honey, show 'em those pictures!" he snickered. 

The petite blonde fished in her copious leather handbag and withdrew a 
yellow Kodak folder containing twelve snapshots. Giggling, she passed some 
to Vicki and some to Mitch, unnecessarily holding the fair-haired man's hand 
for a moment as she did so. Then, smooth forehead wrinkled in concentration, 
she carefully studied the Marstens' reactions to the obscene photos they'd 
taken at one of her brother-in-law Art's more swinging parties. 

Vicki's shoulders tensed as she glanced at the first picture, but she did 
not allow herself to show her shock. Vince would only make fun of her, 
calling her a country hick and maybe he'd be right. If this was the sort of 
gathering rich and famous people enjoyed, who was she to say it was 
indecent? Just because she doubted she could ever feel at ease in a topless 
bikini didn't mean they were necessarily wrong - why, in Time she'd read 
that on European beaches topless women were so commonplace as to attract 
little attention. 

"Gimme another look at those," Vince demanded, plucking the color photo from 
between Vicki's frozen fingers. "Wow, get a look at the tits on these 
chicks!" 

As he spoke, he shot the young brunette a scrutinizing glance from the 
corner of his eyes. He could tell that she was shocked, though she wasn't 
admitting it, and as a rosy blush spread over her high-cheekboned face he 
correctly surmised that she was imagining how it would feel to reveal her 
own breasts in public. 

Fastening his hungry gaze upon the enticing twin mounds straining against 
her thin cotton T-shirt, he once again vowed to carry through the plans he 
and his wife had formulated on the way back from California. If it was the 
last thing he did in his life he was going to get her. Vicki too astonished 
by the second photograph to be aware of the others' attention. In this 
picture a statuesque blonde who looked as though she must be a movie actress 
or a model was poised on the diving board above a kidney-shaped swimming 
pool in a lewd and suggestive pose for the benefit of a group of half-naked 
onlookers below. It was impossibly obscene, but the way the suntanned girl's 
body was positioned made the innocent young wife unwillingly think of 
lovemaking. 

Though she told herself that she didn't want to see any more, her hand 
nevertheless reached for the next photo. Suddenly her whole body began to 
shake with a strange tremor which slithered up and down her spine like 
red-hot electricity, and with a gasp she dropped the picture onto the 
tablecloth. Filth - that's what the picture of a naked Art Varden with two 
naked bleached blondes touching his huge penis with their tongues was! Pure, 
unadulterated filth! 

The alcoholic clouds quickly cleared from Vicki's mind as anger shot through 
her. Just as she was about to tell them exactly what she thought about 
vulgar things like this, her husband's bemused words interrupted her. 

"For Christ's sake!" he grabbed for the photographs his wife had dropped. 
"These are really something else! Where'd you ever get them developed, 
Vince?" 

"Oh, a friend of Art's specializes in that sort of thing." 

"Wow!" 

From Mitch Marsten's impressed tone it was obvious that he'd never seen 
anything like this before. "California here I come! That's all I have to 
say!" 

Vicki stared at her husband in amazement, too distressed for speech at the 
revelation of this lecherous side of his personality. His dark eyes were lit 
with unmistakable sexual excitement as he gazed back and forth between Vince 
and Dale then began eagerly leafing through the rest of the pictures. 

"You got any of you guys?" he inquired, his eyes fastening on the ripely 
jutting mounds of his boss's wife's full-mounded breasts. Jealousy rippled 
over Vicki, making her slightly nauseated and deeply depressed instead of 
angry as he added, "You really went to parties like this? You're not putting 
me on?" 

"Sure we did!" Dale's sea-green eyes challenged her girl friend's husband as 
her foot probed suggestively at his. "And we've got pictures to prove it, 
don't we, Vince?" 

"You bet we do!" The hefty man's laugh rang out so loudly that guests from 
nearby tables turned to stare at them. "Slides - lots of 'em! Why don't we 
go home and take a look?" 

Dale glanced toward her girl friend and felt a bit contrite when she saw the 
sadness in the pretty brunette's face. Much as she wanted to involve the 
Marstens in the exciting world of swinging couples she'd so enjoyed in Los 
Angeles, she felt a deep affection and responsibility toward her childhood 
friend. Even though she wanted to make love with Mitch -had wanted to for 
years now - so badly that right now her panties were damp with desire, she 
would not allow herself to do anything that would hurt Vicki and destroy 
their close friendship. 

"What do you think, Vicki?" she asked. "Want to come over for a nightcap and 
see what life's like on the coast? Or are you too tired?" This, she thought, 
left her girl friend an easy excuse to beg off. I don't want to see any more 
filthy pictures, Vicki told herself, but I don't want them to think I'm a 
wet blanket. Ignoring the flickering flames of curiosity which teased at the 
back of her brain, she rationalized that she was trying to be more 
open-minded in order to aid her faltering marriage. After all, looking at 
pictures wasn't the same as actually doing those indecent things. Of course 
she would never touch a man's penis with her mouth - it was unsanitary, 
abnormal - but if Mitch liked to see photographs of such perversions, maybe 
it was a good idea to try to understand and accept. If it was too 
disgusting, she could always shut her eyes the way she did in the movies 
about blood and violence to which he'd been dragging her for the past four 
years. 

"Sure, a ... a drink might just hit the spot," she managed a faint smile in 
Dale's direction. 

Vince insisted upon paying the bill, saying he could take it off his income 
tax as a company expense dinner, and they all rather drunkenly made their 
way out of "The Farmhouse." Vicki had composed herself enough so that she 
made no complaint when her girl friend's husband accidentally-on-purpose 
brushed against her breasts while helping her on with her light jacket. It 
was all just a game . . . they were all good friends ... it was all fun, of 
course . . . 

The Valiant refused to start. After ten years of faithful service, it 
appeared to have died quietly at last. There was no apparent reason for the 
motor failure, or at least Mitch, handy as he was with automobiles, was too 
intoxicated to discover it. After he'd checked out the obvious machinery to 
no avail, they all piled into the Vardens' white Chevrolet and headed back 
to Cederburg with the radio blasting out into the warm, star-studded 
September night. 

As luck would have it, the back seat was occupied by four broken television 
sets, and they all had to crowd into the wide front seat. Vicki found 
herself squeezed between Vince and her husband with their hard-muscled legs 
pressing tightly against her thighs. Perhaps it was only her imagination, 
but it seemed as though her girl friend's husband was rubbing his leg with 
unnecessary intensity against her bare leg, but of course he must move his 
foot on the gas pedal so she'd just make sure she held her own body as stiff 
and unresponsive as possible. 

"Ooohh! You're tickling me!" Dale giggled as Mitch threw an arm around each 
girl, and Vicki was momentarily annoyed that she was unable to see exactly 
what was going on. But then an oldie-but-goodie from their high school days 
came on the radio and she relaxed. It was good to be here in the car with 
the people she knew and loved best, just like in the old days when they'd 
all piled into someone's car to drive around the state following the 
basketball team. After all, Mitch's other arm was gently fondling her back 
even as he and Dale roughhoused like a couple of puppies - it was all 
innocent friendly fun. 

In the darkness Dale Varden slowly eased the hand which had jabbed her in 
the ribs down toward her unbrassiered breast. To her delight, firm masculine 
fingers tweaked teasingly at the tautening nipple, sending ripples of 
sensation to every nerve ending in her sensuous young body. Then she gave an 
involuntary gasp as Mitch abruptly reached his hand down inside her jeans to 
knead the pliant mounds of her buttocks. 

God he must really be drunk to take a chance like that with Vicki sitting 
right beside him! the scheming blonde thought as she peered toward the 
others to see if they'd noticed anything peculiar about her gasp. Luckily, 
her husband was telling an especially risque story about a Los Angeles 
escapade, and her gasp was taken by Vicki to be one of shock. The brunette 
threw her girl friend a smile, glad that someone else was shocked by Vince's 
vulgarity. 

I'm sure they really didn't do anything of the sort, she decided, tossing 
her shoulder-length chestnut curls. And as for these dirty pictures, they 
probably got them from Art. I'm sure Dale wouldn't go to an orgy. Okay, she 
used to be what Mom called "wild," dating a lot of guys and making out at 
drive-ins and all that, but she's certainly not a slut. I know her better 
than that! 

As these thoughts whirled through Vicki Marsten's head, her own husband's 
hand was slipping determinedly down between Dale Varden's willingly 
wriggling ass-cheeks in the direction of her well-lubricated cuntal slit. 
The excited blonde crossed her legs, allowing the groping hand contact with 
the tumescent lips of her pulsating vagina, and she couldn't repress the 
groan that burst from her lips. 

"Ohhhno!" 

Vicki heard her best girl friend's exclamation which came at the opportune 
moment when Vince was guffawing over his smutty punchline. She began to feel 
irritated at the burly television repairman again, to wish he would talk 
about something besides sex for a change. Her annoyance was heightened by 
the strange tremors that shivered up her spine at the very thought of the 
scene he'd described. Even though she pushed these sensations to the back of 
her consciousness, they played a part in her overreaction to the jokes about 
parties where the invitations read, "Come in your birthday suit!" 

"And then there was the time this starlet - a real cute little piece called 
Jolynne - got so turned on by one of Art's blue movies that she got up on 
the table and started finger-fucking herself right in front of everyone. An' 
then she started using a goddamned candle - a thick red one, no less! Jesus 
Christ!" The man's voice began to slur from the effects of the wine combined 
with his sexual arousal, and he pressured Vicki's soft naked thigh again as 
he added, "Took the whole goddamn thing up inside her, moanin' and groanin' 
like she was going crazy!" 

Vicki tried to block out the sound of his indecent words, but it was 
impossible. She was so disconcerted that she failed to pay attention to the 
way her husband's body was shifting around beside her or the strange silence 
from the normally talkative Dale. 

Keep talking, Vince! Dale was praying to herself as she began massaging the 
swelling bulge between her girl friend's husband's strong-muscled legs. She 
realized that Vince guessed what she was doing, that he was consciously 
trying to preoccupy Vicki and hopefully, excite the inexperienced brunette 
with his stories. From the tone of his voice, she could tell that he was 
feeling almost as passionate as she herself was. 

God, how long she'd wanted to touch Mitch this way, to feel his eager hands 
exploring her sensitive pussy-flesh and tingling clitoris! She remembered 
how she'd ground her dampening clitoris back and forth against the hard 
bleachers during basketball games as she watched the muscular Mitch Marston 
and indulged in a glut of prurient fantasies . . . fantasies which she'd 
thought could never become realities because of Vicki who sat beside her 
with Mitch's class ring proudly displayed on her left hand. 

A new version of the Rolling Stones' famous hit, Satisfaction, came on the 
radio, and its slow erotic beat so inspired Vince that he launched into 
another still more depraved tale of a young model and her pet German 
shepherd. They'd reached Cedarburg by now, and he automatically slowed the 
car to the required 30 m.p.h. as they rolled along past silent darkened 
houses and stately elm and maple trees. 

On the far side of the car his wife had reached a fever pitch of excitation 
as the hand of her childhood friend's husband shifted so that his thick 
middle finger was rammed up inside her eagerly accepting pussy while his 
palm pressed flat against the cleft between her undulating ass-cheeks from 
beneath. Her husband's lewd words filtered vaguely through her brain, 
increasing her arousal, though she wasn't really concentrating on what he 
was saying. 

Vicki however, was hearing every degenerate word Vince Varden uttered, and 
just as he began describing how the marijuana-drugged model had performed 
before them with her big dog, she knew she couldn't bear to hear another 
sordid word. 

"SHUT UP!" she screamed suddenly just as the Chevrolet was pulling up in 
front of the Vardens' three bedroom split level. "Stop it! I don't want to 
hear it! Shut up, damn you! Shut up!" 

Mitch and Dale quickly snatched their hands away from each other's excitedly 
pulsating loins and turned to stare in confusion at Vicki. Tears were 
streaming down her lovely face, and her classically sculpted features were 
distorted in anguish as she whimpered again, "Stop, please stop!" 

There was a moment of loaded silence, and then Dale gathered himself 
together enough to speak. 

"Really Vince," she exclaimed to her husband as he backed into the driveway. 
"You could have picked another story to tell, you bastard." 

The distraught brunette felt grateful to hear this support from her girl 
friend. Her planned invective against Vince melted away, leaving her shaking 
weakly and crying uncontrollably as he switched off the motor. 

Vince stared at the weeping young woman beside him, knowing he ought not say 
anything more but unable to resist making one last attempt to return the 
atmosphere to one conducive to a swap. 

"What's the matter, babe?" he laughed. "You afraid you'll attack Charlie or 
somethin'?" 

Charlie, the Vardens' six-month old golden retriever, had always displayed a 
special fondness for Vicki. 

The tearful blonde stared at Vince Varden in consternation, unable to 
believe that he'd said something so crude. 

"Let me out of this car!" she hissed, choking back her sobs and angrily 
pushing her tousled chestnut curls away from her eyes. "I'm not coming in to 
hear more of this filthy talk! I'll walk home!" 

"C'mon Vince, leave her alone!" Dale urged. 

She reached across to pat her girl friend's arm. "C'mon honey, we'll drive 
you home. Vince just doesn't know when to shut up, that's all. Don't let him 
bother you." Despite her intensive need for the satisfaction only Mitch's 
long hard cock could give her, Dale managed to speak warmly and 
sympathetically to her oldest friend. 

Vince and Dale Varden were frustrated at having their hopes for an evening 
of swapping rudely dashed, but Mitch Marsten was frankly furious. All day 
long he'd barely managed to contain his resentment at having been locked out 
of his own bedroom the night before, and now that he had a good quantity of 
alcohol swimming through his bloodstream and his virile penis was throbbing 
in urgent need from the uninhibited blonde's caresses, he could no longer 
hold back his righteous anger. A man had some rights with his own woman! 
He'd been faithful to Vicki despite her lack of sexual response for months 
now, but he simply couldn't put up with this situation much longer. Okay, 
maybe he'd gone too far with Dale just now, but it was all his wife's fault 
ultimately. 

It was past-due that Vicki should suffer for the many months of misery she'd 
put him through. Perhaps he'd been a bit too violent on their wedding night, 
but he'd thought she'd forgiven him, and anyway it was idiotic to punish him 
for this long. He hadn't wanted or intended to treat her so roughly that 
first time, but she should have understood his urgent passion. Instead, 
she'd set up this barrier of feeling against him - well, he'd had it! He 
couldn't take it any longer!" 

"I'd like to see those slides," he said, his voice too loud, too imperative. 
"If the women are chicken, they can bug off." 

Dale flashed him a withering glare. "They're both drunk," she said to her 
girl friend who was speechless after her husband's unexpectedly belligerent 
proclamation. "We'll just ignore them." 

"Do whatever you like," Mitch continued, too irate to care about the 
consequences of his irate words. "I only know I'd like to meet a chick who 
was honest about wanting to get fucked." He turned to Vince, his breath 
coming in harsh swallows. "You're a lucky guy. At least you're taking a real 
woman to bed tonight!" 

Dale, who normally never blushed, turned beet-red as she stared at the 
strained features of her best friend. 

"Now, that's enough!" she snapped. "You guys get out of the car and let me 
drive Vicki home if you wanna be big deal he-men and watch some dumb slides. 
Just get out and leave us alone!" 

"Yeah, let's see those goddamn slides!" Mitch exclaimed, pushing past Dale 
to get out of the car. 

Vince, looking bewildered and a bit annoyed, followed suit. As Dale jumped 
out of the Chevrolet and made her way around to the driver's seat, they 
moved toward the house, casting incomprehensive glances back toward the two 
women who were now tenderly embracing. 

By the time Dale had calmed Vicki down and gotten her into bed, almost an 
hour had passed. When she arrived back home, Mitch had left and her husband 
was impatiently awaiting her. She sank into his arms, giggling happily as he 
tugged off her clothes. 

"We've got to help Vicki and Mitch," she murmured as he began caressing her 
body. "They're in really bad trouble, I'm afraid. She told me she hasn't 
been able to feel any desire since the day they got married." 

"But you feel hot enough, don't you, baby?" Vince whispered, plunging his 
middle finger into his wife's desire-drenched vaginal channel. "You wanna 
fuck, don't you?" 

"Oh yes, lover! YES!" Dale moaned. 

For the moment, husband and wife forgot their friends' troubles as they 
joyously exploited each other's eager bodies. Tomorrow was time enough to 
worry about the Marstens . . . 

Chapter THREE 

Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny, and Dale Varden hummed happily as 
she fixed her husband's usual breakfast of strong black coffee, fried eggs 
sunny-side up, and raisin toast. Outside the kitchen window the backyard Elm 
was turning yellow, and the row of young maples at the far end of the lot 
were just beginning to take on a glorious red color ... a perfect Midwestern 
September day! Upstairs, she could hear Vince's discordant voice blasting 
out an off-key but cheerful rendition of Dylan's Mr. Tambourine Man, and a 
contented smile flickered over her lush pink lips as she remembered their 
passionate love-making of last night and this morning. Wriggling her shapely 
buttocks beneath her sheer pink nightgown, she delighted in the sensation of 
still-damp sperm between her naked legs. 

"God!" she murmured as she poured the orange juice. "Life's really 
marvelous!" 

By the time Vince had gulped down his breakfast, kissed her full on the 
lips, and dashed off to make it to the shop by nine o'clock, the blonde 
wife's euphoric mood had vanished as she remembered her friend, Vicki's, 
marriage problems. She had to do something to help, she thought as she 
soaped her petite but curvaceous body in the shower, but what? Her own 
year-old marriage had had its rocky moments, for both she and Vince had hot 
tempers, but everything had always been all right once they were in bed 
together. The Marsten's problem was just the opposite, and she was 
completely at a loss to come up with any sort of remedy. 

After her shower, she heated up some coffee and took her cup outside to sit 
on the sunny patio. If only Vince were home so we could talk about it, she 
was thinking as the telephone shrilled from the living room. When she heard 
Claudia Champlin's voice coming over the wire, it seemed like an answer to a 
prayer. 

During their high school days, Dale, Vicki and Claudia Champlin, a 
statuesque redhead, had been close friends. Now Claudia was working in 
Kansas City and only returned to Cedarburg for holidays or on week-ends when 
her elderly widowed father wasn't feeling well. Unlike her two girl friends, 
the redhead had shown no interest in an early marriage but had wanted to see 
a bit of the world and have some sort of career. Unable to afford even the 
state university, she'd saved up enough from her summer job at the A&P and 
babysitting to enroll in a secretarial course in Kansas City, then had 
gotten a good job in an advertising firm. Now, as she excitedly related to 
Dale, she'd had a really lucky break. 

"... And then Gregory - that's my boss -suggested that maybe I could do the 
nylon advertisements, since the model got hepatitis. So I did - and now I've 
been offered a modeling job in Chicago beginning next month! Imagine! A 
model!" 

Dale enthused over her friend's success for some minutes, then began 
confiding her worries about the Marsten's marriage. They'd always considered 
Claudia to be the most intelligent of them, the one who thought up clever 
solutions to all problems. It was a real stroke of luck that she'd happened 
to come home this weekend. 

"Mitch and Vicki are in trouble," she stated bluntly. 

"Trouble?" Claudia sounded incredulous. "But I always thought they were the 
ideal couple!" She paused, then added almost hopefully, "Or do you mean 
money trouble? I got a lot of money from that nylon ad - I can lend them a 
couple hundred bucks if they need it." 

"No, it's not money ..." Dale replied. " I wish it was just that." 

"Look, let's not talk on the party line. I'll come over, okay?" 

"Great!" 

"Or I have a better idea. Let's have lunch in the Sweet Shop, like we always 
used to in the old days." 

The Cedarburg Sweet Shop was as crowded as usual on Saturdays, with booths 
full of shouting and flirting teenagers, farmers in town for their weekly 
shopping, and the regular contingent of elderly men sipping coffee and 
playing checkers at the back table. Dale and Claudia were pleased to find 
that the particular booth which had been their crowd's favorite happened to 
be free when they entered, and they slid into the cracked red plastic seats 
without a glance at the lustful boys who stared at their long shapely legs. 

"A coke, George," she said to the dour-faced elderly owner as he approached 
their table. "And an order of fries, for old times sake." She turned to her 
friend, adding, "It's been ages since I ate this stuff." 

Claudia, who was determined to keep her svelte figure, ordered low-calorie 
orange pop. They sipped their drinks for a moment, each thinking of the many 
times they'd been here together with Mitch and Vicki. 

"But they never fought!" Dale exclaimed suddenly. "Never!" 

Her friend knew at once what she was talking about. "We have to help," she 
said seriously. "Tell me about it, Dale." 

As the petite blonde related the story of last night's misadventures, 
Claudia's elegantly made-up face darkened over with sympathy. Of course 
she'd always known that Vicki was far more prudish than she or Dale, but 
she'd believed that her friend kept her virginity before marriage more to 
hold on to her man than for reasons of morality. Now it seemed evident that 
the scare-stories her old-fashioned mother had showered her with during 
puberty had scarred her deeply, despite the fact that she'd laughed with her 
girl friends at the older woman's dire threats of hellfire and suffering. 
Claudia wondered if it were possible to undo the damage at this late date. 

"Wow! She's really hung up, huh," she whistled as Dale finished telling her 
how Vicki had grown hysterical in the car and how angrily frustrated her 
husband had been. "And it sounds like Mitch's just about at the end of his 
rope, too. What a goddamn shame!" 

Suddenly her dark, almond-shaped eyes narrowed as she recalled an incident 
from her sophomore year, just after Mitch had given Vicki his going-steady 
ring. She'd been babysitting at the house next to the Marsten's one night, 
and had called out to Mitch when she saw him coming home from a date with 
his girl. Something about his way of walking told her he was terribly 
sexually frustrated and on a strange impulse - though Claudia was admittedly 
quite intelligent, her Irish mother had bequeathed her with an undermining 
streak of wild impetuousness - she'd tried and almost succeeded in seducing 
her friend's boyfriend. 

With a speculative stare at her attractive blonde friend, who was delicately 
picking at her catsup-drenched french fries, she wondered what Mitch's 
reaction would be now if she tried the same trick. From what Dale had told 
her, she felt certain that he wouldn't insist on remaining faithful for too 
long. As the first inklings of a plan began formulating in her quick brain, 
the photogenic redhead's scarlet lips shaped into a smile. 

"Maybe you and Vince were doing the right thing last night, after all," she 
mused, twirling her orange diet-pop between well-manicured fingers. "And 
it's very interesting that you guys got involved in the swap scene, 'cause 
I've been going to a lot of parties like that in Kansas City, too. Gregory - 
my boss, y'know - knows all the real swingers. Anyway, I've seen a lot of 
couples who really changed drastically after being involved in that scene, 
and I bet if we - her best friends, who really love her and care about her, 
who aren't just using her or something sordid like that - got Vicki to swap, 
their marriage would heal itself straight off." 

Dale gaped at her smiling friend, her fingers frozen in mid-air with a 
greasy french fry dangling limply between her plate and her wide-open mouth. 
"I always used to think you were the clever one, Claudia Champlin!" she 
exclaimed. " But now I think you've gone crazy! Must be that big-city 
pollution! If Vicki even suspected that Vince and I had been trying to get a 
swap going last night, I don't think she'd ever speak to me again! Honest!" 

"Wait a minute! Let me explain . . ." Claudia's green-lidded eyes sparkled 
with excitement as the plan began to take definite shape in her mind. "It's 
simple, really. Somehow Vicki's got thing all twisted up inside. She doesn't 
equate sex with love and friendship - she thinks it's something dirty and 
evil. So don't you think it's up to us to show her that sex is really fun - 
one of the best ways of communicating and showing affection." 

Dale still looked puzzled, but there was a hopeful note in her voice as she 
remarked, "Sure, all that's true - but you didn't see how riled up she was 
last night, screaming and crying and the whole bit." 

There was a moment's silence as the young model's slim white fingers 
extracted a Benson and Hedges from an expensive-looking leather case and lit 
the cigarette with a small matching lighter. "All we need," she said at 
last, "is a few days of complete privacy and peace. And I know just the 
place!" 

"My boss has this cabin in Arkansas. Before he got divorced and his wife 
took the kids and went to Paris to become a writer, he used it for summer 
vacations. Now, it's for parties and for when he wants to get away from the 
rat-race and just take it easy hunting and fishing. If you can get away next 
weekend, the six of us could drive down there." 

"I have to ask Vince - mostly he opens on Saturday, but if you really think 
this might work, I think he'd be willing to go along with it," Dale replied. 
"But - but what do you mean, really?" 

"Here's my plan," the statuesque redhead began confidently, and for the next 
ten minutes her friend listened eagerly, nodding at intervals, smiling more 
and more broadly. By the time the two voluptuous young women made their way 
out of the crowded, smoke-filled Sweet-Shop, their faces were both glowing 
with excitement. 

* * * 

Vince Varden was concerned to hear his wife's voice on the repair shop 
phone, for she was considerate enough not to bother him at work except in 
the case of a real emergency. When he heard what she had to say, however, 
his rugged face broke into a wide grin. Five minutes later, he was in the 
back room talking to Mitch, who was busy fitting the back on a newly-revived 
television set. 

"Waddya say to lockin' up next weekend and going to the mountains? Claudia 
Champlin's quit her job to become a model, and she's got this rich boyfriend 
who's got a house in Arkansas. Just the six of us - should be a real gas!" 

Mitch turned slowly to face his boss, an immediate vision of himself and 
Dale lying naked in some secluded forest glade flashing before his mind's 
eye. Feeling too guilty to meet Vince's open gaze, he stared instead at the 
rack of spare parts hanging above the husky man's head. 

Why the hell not? he asked himself, suddenly realizing that last night had 
been the last straw. If we go to this cabin, something sure as hell is going 
to happen between Dale and I. But if Vicki's never going to treat me like a 
real wife, I'm gonna have to find satisfaction somewhere else. I've been an 
idealistic asshole for too long now, trying to convince myself that love and 
sex are two different kettles of fish just 'cause Vicki's so uptight she 
thinks that way. Well, that's over now! Now I'm gonna get this hungry cock 
of mine inside a real woman - right up between those fabulous legs of Dale 
Varden! 

"Why not?!" he grinned back at Vince, meeting his gaze levelly. "Sounds 
fantastic!" 

Chapter FOUR 

Vince closed down the shop at noon on Friday, and within an hour the two 
young couples had loaded a couple suitcases and two A&P boxes of provisions 
into the Vardens' Chevrolet. After several days of grey rain, the weather 
had once again grown summery, and this helped to send the four of them into 
a holiday mood. 

Dale and Vince, in the front seat, were buoyed up with so much excited 
anticipation that by the time they'd reached the southbound freeway the more 
subdued couple seated behind them were joining in the jokes and laughter. 
Even Vicki, who still felt a little awkward around the Marstens after her 
behavior last Friday night, began to gain some enthusiasm for the trip. The 
tight knot of tension that had been coiled inside her all during the week 
began to relax as she gazed out the car window. Soon, instead of seeing 
endless crop-covered prairie-land, they'd be driving over hills and through 
the thick forests of the Boston Mountains, through a landscape the sort of 
which she'd seen only in photographs up until now. 

Turning from the window's monotonous scenario of arrow-straight highway and 
hay fields, Vicki gazed out of the corner of her eye at her husband's rugged 
profile. Mitch, oblivious to his wife's scrutiny, was discussing fishing 
gear with Vince, but although he was arguing heatedly in favor of a certain 
sort of reel, his real attention was focused on his friend's wife's brazenly 
displayed flesh. Dale, taking advantage of the last of the hot weather, had 
donned a stretch-knit top and a pair of white short-shorts so tight they 
appeared to have been painted on her ripely rounded buttocks. Her nipples 
poked through the thin material of her crimson T-shirt like two small 
berries, and between her full-fleshed thighs the shorts pressed so closely 
against her crotch that the swelling lips of her vagina were unmistakably 
outlined. 

She's not wearing underwear! Mitch realized with a start. Jesus Christ! What 
a sexy broad! 

Instinct told him that his boss's wife was flaunting her body in a 
deliberate attempt to seduce him, and he had to bend down and hide his face 
by lighting a cigarette to hide the blush that rose on his fair-complected 
cheeks. All week long he'd been agonizing over his decision to be unfaithful 
to his wife of only five months, at moments feeling so tortured by guilt and 
sadness that he'd half hoped Dale Varden would rebuff any advances. Now, it 
was abundantly obvious that the curvaceous blonde was ready and willing for 
a little fun and games, and he knew that he was too charged with pent-up 
sexuality to resist her. 

A small sigh escaped from his wife's chest, causing Mitch to turn toward 
her. She was staring wistfully out the window again, a curiously sad little 
smile playing softly around her soft pink lips, and he felt a sudden surge 
of tenderness for the slender blonde. 

I'll never love another woman as much as I did Vicki, he told himself. And I 
still love her, too . .. but this sex thing's destroying it. Now here I am 
starting an affair, and how can things possibly get better with Vicki when I 
have to lie to her? I never was much good at telling fibs, anyway. 

There seemed no way to resolve the troubled thoughts whirling around in his 
aching brain, so Mitch turned the conversation to fishing again and resumed 
his lustful contemplation of Dale Varden's enticingly displayed loins. 

Just after they'd crossed the Neosho River in southern Kansas, Vicki's 
eyelids drifted shut and her head slumped back against the seat. All week 
long she'd been plagued by insomnia, had lain awake far into the night 
staring miserably at her husband's stiffly positioned body on the far side 
of their double bed. Now, she'd relaxed enough in the car to feel a ray of 
hope for her marriage, and in her relief had drifted into a much-needed 
sleep from which she didn't awake until hours later when the car turned onto 
a deeply rutted dirt lane. 

"Wh-what?" she stammered confusedly, rubbing her eyes and staring out into 
the darkness. "Wh-where are we?" 

"We're almost at the cabin, honey," Dale laughed. "And about time, too! I'm 
dying for a drink, and I'm famished. I sure hope Claudia and this Gregory of 
hers got here and opened the place up like they said they would, 'cause this 
looks like a pretty scary woods to spend the night in." 

"I see a light up ahead - they must be there," Mitch peered through the 
trees, pointing toward a distant pinprick of golden light. 

A few minutes later, they were drawing up in front of a surprisingly modern 
house. Vicki, who'd expected a sort of log-cabin shack, let out a pleased 
little cry at the sight of the pretty Swiss-style chalet with its 
window-boxes of geraniums and wooden shutters. 

"Oh, it's so nice and cozy!" 

A tall, extremely handsome man dressed in elegantly casual clothes which had 
obviously not been inexpensive met them at the door. Claudia, in an equally 
impressive silk lounging dress, followed close behind him. 

"We were beginning to think you'd never get here," she exclaimed, making 
introductions. 

Gregory Payne produced six glasses and a bottle of wine. By the time he'd 
refilled their glasses, everyone was at ease and relaxing before the big 
stone fireplace. Even Vicki felt happy, though she wasn't saying much. Her 
large blue eyes grew wider and wider as she stared first through the big 
windows at the tall pines and encroaching mountains, then back to the happy 
circle of friends, and even when Vince Varden started in on his vulgar Los 
Angeles stories again she was feeling too content to let his crude language 
and embarrassing innuendo bother her. If only things were the way they used 
to be between Mitch and me, she thought as she watched the dancing orange 
flames, I'd be perfectly happy. I'd like to be holding his hand and smiling 
into his eyes. . . But she was too timid to make an overture toward her tall 
blond husband, who was sitting on the opposite side of the fireplace talking 
to an animated Dale Varden. 

Suddenly, halfway through the second big bottle of wine, the men demanded 
food. For the next hour or so the women bustled about, giggling over the 
intricacies of the old-fashioned wood-burning stove - modern as the home 
was, it was without electricity since lines had not yet been run this far 
into the backwoods of Arkansas' Boston Mountains. Somehow, despite the wine 
they sipped as they fried chicken, tossed salad, and baked potatoes, they 
managed to produce an excellent meal which was hungrily gobbled up. 

Leaving the dishes for the next morning, they all settled back down by the 
fire to sip brandy and listen to the soft strains of music emanating from 
Gregory Payne's battery-run stereo. Vicki, more intoxicated than she'd 
intended to be but beyond the point of caring, was almost oblivious to the 
fact that Dale was flirting outrageously with her husband, as Claudia was 
with Vince. Dreamily, she realized that the four were dancing to the slow, 
sensuous music, and then she grew aware for the first time of the intense 
stare the handsome advertising executive was directing toward her. 

A little embarrassed, she smiled self-consciously in his direction. A moment 
later, before the alcohol-confused young brunette had a chance to protest, 
Gregory was pulling her to her feet and taking her in his arms. She gasped 
under her breath and tried to pull away from his overly intimate embrace, 
but he only laughed and began rotating against her in time to the seductive 
slow music. 

Vicki was a good dancer; at home, displayed on the living room bookshelf, 
were a half-dozen well-polished trophies which she and Mitch had won at high 
school proms and Cedarburg's annual Firemen's Balls. Now, although initially 
alarmed at the indecent tightness with which the strange Kansas City man 
held her, she soon closed her eyes and relaxed as the rhythmic melody surged 
through her blood. It felt good to be swaying in time to the music in the 
firelit mountain cabin together with trusted friends, feeling well-fed and a 
little light-headed from the wine and brandy .. . she hadn't been so happy 
in ages! 

Gregory Payne, a tall, dark-haired man in his early thirties with a 
fashionably-trimmed mustache and hair a few inches longer than was normal in 
Cedarburg, shot a lecherous grin over the curvaceous brunette's shoulder at 
the other two lewdly entwined couples. Claudia had filled him in about the 
young wife's "sexual hang-up" and the proposed remedy, and he'd been more 
than willing to join in. What a wild weekend his promised to be! Already, 
Claudia's sexy blonde friend, Dale, was massaging her pussy over Vicki's 
husband's hugely bulging cock as they danced, while over by the mantelpiece 
his redheaded secretary was allowing Dale's husband to slip his hand inside 
her low-necked red silk dress. 

Aroused by the salacious spectacle, Gregory impulsively slid his hands down 
over Vicki's firmly rounded ass-cheeks, skillfully massaging the pliant 
flesh beneath her twirling blue-pleated skirt despite her gasp of shock and 
stiffening body. Somehow Vicki, despite her unfashionable, almost 
school-girlish attire and naively open face, attracted him more strongly 
than sophisticated Claudia or openly provocative Dale. In a way, she 
reminded him of his first wife, though the former Mrs. Payne had been 
stronger-minded than this pretty little thing seemed. It was difficult to 
imagine the timid young Mrs. Marsten championing Women's Liberation, much 
less running off to Paris with three children under ten to make her own way 
in the world. 

But he didn't want to think about his puzzling ex-wife at the moment - he 
was far more interested in how soon and in what exciting ways he was going 
to be able to seduce this virginal-appearing young girl. Despite her initial 
reserve, he could now feel her taut buttocks muscles involuntarily 
contracting beneath his persistent kneading, and he gloated inwardly as she 
let out a low sigh. 

Growing more daring, the advertising executive pressured his muscular chest 
against the dancing girl's full breasts. They felt soft, yet youthfully 
firm, and he longed to take them in his hands as Vince Varden was doing with 
Claudia's. Before he could do so, however, Vicki's alcohol-glazed blue eyes 
flickered open to stare in appalled surprise at the other embracing couples. 

At first she thought she must be hallucinating, but as her vision cleared 
and she distinctly saw her own husband's hand cupping Dale's short-clad 
buttocks to pull her in against his bulging penis, she froze in her steps. 
My God! What's going on here? her intoxicated mind whirled as she turned 
toward her redheaded girlfriend and saw Vince Varden's hand massaging her 
bare breast. Mitch must be so very drunk that he didn't know what he was 
doing, and poor Dale must be terribly embarrassed and upset, too, about what 
her own crude husband was doing with the glamorous redhead Claudia. Oh dear, 
what a dreadful situation - the wonderful weekend she'd been looking forward 
to suddenly threatened to turn into a melodramatic disaster. 

Gregory, who'd been watching Vicki's eyes widen in shock with considerable 
amusement, suddenly jerked her limp body back toward him. 

"Oh, no!" she moaned, caught off guard and falling awkwardly against the 
virtual stranger's hard-loined body. He pinioned her against him with such 
force that she was powerless to resist, then began grinding his 
blood-swollen male thickness against the sensitive area between her sculpted 
legs. 

Horribly humiliated by the thought that she herself must look just as 
obscene as the other two unlawfully embracing couples, yet not wanting to 
make an unpleasant scene, Vicki unwillingly moved in time with Gregory 
Payne's close-pressing body. He'd seemed such a cultured, educated man that 
she was truly surprised to find him acting as animalistic as Vince or Mitch 
in his worst moments, and she felt her cheeks flaming with shame as his 
iron-hard penis rubbing against her sensitive pubic mound sent an unwanted 
thrill of desire charging through her loins. 

For the past five months Vicki had prayed to once again feel sexual arousal 
as she had in the days of going steady and being engaged to Mitch, but it 
had been as though that part of her body were irrevocably frozen and dead. 
Now, under sordid circumstances and with a complete stranger, she was 
horrified to find her traitorous flesh vibrating with undeniable physical 
passion. Stricken with guilt, the trembling brunette tried to draw her 
thighs together only to find that she'd worsened the situation by trapping 
his seemingly enormous penis between her sensitive thighs. 

Shame flooded through the innocent young wife's body as a telltale moisture 
dampened the crotchband of her white nylon panties, but with every wave of 
guilty self-disgust came a far stronger spasm of the most exquisite pleasure 
she'd felt in months. Gregory's skillful hands kneaded her buttocks in lewd 
little circular undulations which he well knew would heighten the 
stimulation of his hotly pressing member, and a lascivious smirk of victory 
transformed his handsome features into a mask of pure lust as he felt Vicki 
gradually yielding to temptation and grinding her pelvis back against him. 

I'm sick - perverted! the desire-tormented brunette accused herself. I can't 
feel pleasure from my husband like a normal woman . . . only with a 
stranger. Inside, I must really be nothing but a slut. Oh God, I don't want 
to be this sort of person! But I can 7 help it! I can 7 stop these sinful 
feelings! I can't even make myself pull away from him . .. 

Suddenly she realized that Gregory had maneuvered her over toward the other 
couples. What she saw in the dim light cast by the flickering ember of the 
dying fire so shocked her that she made no protest as Gregory's hand began 
pressing into the slit between her wriggling ass-cheeks. What in God's name 
had gotten into her husband to cause him to behave in such an audacious way? 
He hadn't drunk so much wine as all that. No, it was as if all six of them 
were being swept along into some nightmare of insane emotion by a current 
too fierce and violent to fight against. 

"Ooohhhh," she moaned under her breath, despising herself for feeling a 
lurid fascination at the obscene gyrations of Dale and her husband. 

The close-knit couple's erotic motions were too suggestive now to even 
pretend to be dancing. In fact, the way they were rubbing up against one 
another resembled a perverted parody of the love-act more than anything 
else. Her best girlfriend seemed to be encouraging the illicit contact - 
perhaps she was jealous of whatever it was Claudia and Vince were doing over 
in that dim corner beyond the fading firelight - but to Vicki's amazement 
she felt no anger, only a helpless thrill of raw excitement. 

All of a sudden, electric lightning shot through her loins as the stranger 
from Kansas City pressured his burgeoning thickness directly against her 
pulsating clitoris. A warm flood of feminine lubricating fluid gushed onto 
her flimsy panty crotchband at the overwhelming sensation, but at last the 
alcohol and lust-crazed nineteen year old brunette gathered the willpower to 
pull away from the man's embrace. 

"OOOHHHH!" she wailed aloud, her arousal and agony at ending the delicious 
titillation echoing piercingly around the room and causing her husband to 
break away from a very disappointed Dale Varden. 

The Marstens' stared at each other in consternation, Vicki's cheeks crimson 
as she realized that Mitch was able to see the damp stain on her thin cotton 
miniskirt. Now he'd know that another man had aroused her as he'd never been 
able to! Unfortunately, the taped music had come to an inopportune halt; in 
the ensuing silence, the frozen four were uncomfortably aware of the labored 
breathing of the oblivious Vince and Claudia. 

"Damn cheap apparatus," Gregory Payne cursed under his breath, crossing to 
rewind the machine. 

Taking advantage of this pause in the bizarre erotic atmosphere, Vicki 
crossed toward her husband and took his arm. 

"Let's take a walk," she suggested in a voice that she just barely managed 
to keep from shaking. "It's so - so hot and smoky in here. I need some fresh 
air." 

Mitch followed his wife out onto the wide porch as though mesmerized, 
vaguely aware that Dale and Gregory were shrugging and falling into each 
other's arms to continue their lewd dancing to a new tape. The cool mountain 
air cleared his head, and though his aroused penis was still throbbing with 
painful desire for the sexy platinum blonde; he was relieved in a way to 
have escaped from the overstimulating environment before making an 
irrevocable move toward destroying his five month old marriage. 

"Payne said there's a little river down at the bottom of the hill," he said, 
avoiding Vicki's eyes. "Whaddya say we walk down that way?" The young blonde 
merely nodded, too embarrassed by the strange events which had transpired in 
the cabin and by her own body's unexpected and unwanted re-awakening. Part 
of her longed to grab her husband's hand, to kiss him and beg him to love 
her, to let him fuck her right here and now beneath the glittering canopy of 
stars in order to prove to them both that she could respond like a real 
woman after all. But she was too shy to utter the words in the first instant 
when the tender yearning swelled inside her, and then she began to fear that 
he'd not respond to her in kind - that he was angry -and she didn't dare to 
make the overture which might have healed their marriage. The past five 
months of tension, and especially the last week where they'd treated each 
other as strangers who happened to be trapped in the same small house, had 
burnt a barrier between them which was not easily repaired. 

The two young people stood beside the peacefully gurgling creek, sexually 
excited but unable to communicate their deepest emotions. Mitch felt as 
though he were being buffeted in a tornado, as though all the precepts on 
which he'd based his decision to seduce the willing Dale tomorrow were being 
shattered into a thousand smithereens. Vicki had responded to another man, a 
total stranger! Maybe ... maybe some of their sexual problems had been his 
fault, not just the product of her unnatural inhibitions. 

Their eyes met, and an awkward, unsatisfying kiss was exchanged. 

"C'mon, let's crash," Mitch broke away from his wife and started up the 
bank. "I'm really bushed." 

An excited wave of anticipation swelled inside Vicki's stimulated loins. He 
wants to make love! He forgives me! she told herself as she hurried after 
him up toward the cabin. And I want to feel him hard and pulsing inside me - 
I really do! 

Both of them were grateful that their bedroom - which had originally been 
designed as the bedroom for Payne's eldest children, twin sons - had it's 
own private entrance. Neither felt up to facing their friends another time 
that night, and by mutual consent they let themselves into the cottage as 
quietly as possible. Vicki shot her husband a loving glance, which to her 
disappointment he didn't notice, then hurried to the large bathroom which 
was connected by two doors to the other two bedrooms. She felt an imperative 
need to wash the scent and memory of Gregory Payne's indecently arousing 
hands from her body before giving herself up to her husband's caresses. 

Mitch, who'd been debating with himself over whether to try to make love 
with his normally frigid wife, misinterpreted her abrupt exit and lay 
hastily down on the far side of the bed, feigning sleep. In a way, he was 
grateful, for he felt inadequate. What did this Payne fellow have, aside 
from lots of bread, that he didn't? If Vicki had responded coldly and 
indifferently to him, his ego would have been irreparably wounded. 

When Vicki came out of the bathroom and heard her husband's over-loud, 
obviously false snores, she felt as though a bucket of ice water had been 
dumped on her head. Mitch didn't want her! He probably hated and despised 
her, considered her a slut! Carefully climbing into the bed without so much 
as grazing his pajama-clad body, she lay in rigid frustration for what 
seemed hours. Despite her humiliation, the fires of desire inside her 
re-awakened young body refused to die out. 

Some time later, a medley of strange sounds reached her ears. In one of the 
bedrooms beyond the connecting bathroom, someone was making passionate love. 
Straining her ears, the excited young brunette deduced that it must be Vince 
and Dale ... but a minute later, she realized that there were four distinct 
voices. 

God! her bewildered mind whirled. They're all doing it together! 

It was impossible! She must be having one of those peculiar dreams when you 
feel as though you're wide awake... or perhaps something about the 
construction of the cabin's walls distorted her hearing ... or maybe she was 
still drunk and her perverted imagination was playing tricks on her ... 

Whatever it is, it's none of your business, she told herself sternly. 

Burying her head in her fluffy, down-filled pillow, the agitated young woman 
tried for several minutes to drown out the dim sounds of raucous laughter, 
shrill giggles and flesh slapping against flesh. Her efforts were to no 
avail; it was simply impossible to concentrate on counting sheep when what 
appeared to be a virtual orgy was going on in the next room, especially when 
the orgiasts were girls who were as close to her as sisters. 

She and Claudia and Dale had shared everything together, moving together 
from birthday parties, to boy-girl parties with kissing games like 
Spinning-the-Bottle and Snowball, to high school proms. They'd bought their 
first brassieres together at Peerless Department store, admiring one 
another's budding breasts, had cried over one another's broken hearts, had 
been bridesmaids at each other's weddings. Oh, sure ... in the last years at 
Cedarburg High Dale and Claudia had gotten somewhat boy-crazy and had 
attended lots of wild parties which she and Mitch hadn't been interested in 
attending, but she'd had no idea that her most trusted friends were turning 
into degenerate sluts. Mitch hadn't drunk because of basketball training, 
and they'd just been more interested in being alone together than in 
watching everyone get drunk. Had this sort of thing been going on at those 
parties without them telling her about it? No, they'd told one another 
everything! The group sex taking place in the next room must have been some 
sort of evil plot dreamed up by that awful friend of Claudia's and by the 
crude Vince Varden. Thank God she and Mitch had escaped from the devious 
clutches of those inhuman perverts - but how humiliated poor Dale must feel! 

A sudden loud giggle from Dale's unmistakable high-pitched soprano voice 
pierced through the listening brunette's brain and destroyed her comforting 
rationalization. Oh God, her girlfriend was really enjoying this debauchery! 
Suddenly the sleepless wife was overwhelmed by an all-consuming curiosity. 
She had to see what was going on, to find out for sure whether everything 
was all right and they were just playing some sort of a rowdy game, or if 
her worst suspicions were confirmed. 

After throwing a cautious glance in the direction of her somnolent husband, 
whose snores had by now acquired a realistic, slightly drunken note, Vicki 
Marsten slipped from her bed and tiptoed toward the half-ajar bathroom door. 
Pulling it closed behind her with a stealthiness which made her feel like a 
sick-minded eavesdropper, she guiltily leaned toward the wall beside the 
blue-tiled bathtub where the sounds were loudest. 

From here, she could hear every word being uttered with absolute clarity. 
What was more disturbing to the trembling girl, she could also distinguish 
the sounds of lovemaking so vividly that her imagination began conjuring up 
obscene visions. The more she attempted to erase these disgusting images 
from her mind, the more life-like they became. 

The worst sound of all was a sort of wet slurping noise, and despite Vicki's 
innocence she identified it almost at once: either Dale or Claudia was 
performing the perverted act which her own husband had tried to force her to 
indulge in last week. How could anyone bear to put a man's . .. thing ... 
inside her mouth? Revulsion swept through her as she imagined what it would 
be like to feel an enormous heated pole of flesh ramming in and out between 
her lips, and she shut her eyes in a vain effort to block out the mental 
picture of a man's thickly throbbing erection poised above her girlfriend 
Dale's pretty face. 

Her lewd reverie was interrupted by a shrill cry from a voice which was 
obviously Dale Varden's. 

"Yeeeaaahhhh, lover! Lick my pussy! That's goooodddd!" 

So Dale's not taking her husband's big.. . thing.. . in her mouth after all 
the listening blonde's mind whirled as she leaned her head weakly against 
the cool tile wall. She's doing something even more disgusting - letting him 
put his mouth on the most private part of her body. Why, I've never even let 
Mitch look at me down there, much less kiss me. It's sickening! Perverted! 

Yet even as these thoughts churned through Vicki's troubled mind, she 
gradually grew aware of a slight flickering sensation shooting out from her 
moistening pussy to every nerve-ending in her aroused loins. The unwanted 
feelings accelerated as she heard Claudia gurgle, "Uuuuggg, tastes goooddd!" 

An immediate vision of the scene on the other side of the wall sent a 
mortifying shudder of excitement flaming like liquid fire through Vicki's 
bloodstream. Now there was no denying what was happening; Dale was being 
kissed in the most degenerate way possible, right between her shapely naked 
legs. .. while in the same room Claudia's auburn head was bobbing up and 
down over one of the men's obscenely exposed male member! 

The vision, instead of revolting her as it ought to have done, sent a flood 
of warm moisture seeping from her indecently pulsing cuntal lips. Each creak 
of bedsprings, each muffled moan, infected the eavesdropping nineteen year 
old in the same way the erotic atmosphere had while they were all dancing in 
the living room. Something deep inside her was straining to break loose as 
new and unbidden impulses invaded her hitherto frigid flesh, and the flames 
in her fire-filled vagina were raging with such a red-hot intensity that it 
was impossible to ignore them any longer. 

Before the naive brunette bride realized what she was doing, her trembling 
right hand had made its way up under her pale blue baby doll nightie. As her 
fingers delicately made contact with her panty-protected vagina, a shiver of 
delight drowned out the guilt-ridden protests of her conscience and evoked a 
sigh of rapture. The sound of her own voice frightened her - it was quite as 
lewd as the high-pitched cries of pleasure Dale and Claudia were emitting - 
but instead of yanking away her traitorous hand, she continued to rub the 
oddly exciting dampness of her panty crotchband. I can't be doing this dirty 
thing! a censor shrieked out accusations inside Vicki's head. What's wrong 
with me today, anyway? I don't even feel like the same girl I was this 
morning. .. I'm a stranger, and I don't even like the new me. I hate it! 

With an anguished sob, the confused brunette turned to regard herself in the 
mirror above the sink. The room was too dark to make out more than the 
shadowiest outline of her chiseled profile - Grecian nose, smooth forehead, 
high cheekbones, and a mouth just a trace too large and so expressive that 
it gave her a vulnerable quality. Naturally wavy chestnut hair framed her 
face and fell in tousled curls around her swan-like white neck and onto her 
naked shoulders. Below, the full mounds of her breasts could just barely be 
discerned beneath the thin blue nylon of her summer nightie, their darker 
nipples poking against the fabric as her breath came faster and faster. 

I look just the same as ever, Vicki reflected. How can I feel so ugly inside 
and not have it show on the outside? 

"Shit, you beautiful bitch!" Gregory's sudden outburst startled the 
frustrated Vicki out of her reverie. As he continued to groan out 
obscenities, she unconsciously allowed her hand to stray back down between 
her legs. "Harder, baby! Harder! Holy Christ, I'm gonna give you my cum 
right in your sweet, suckin' mouth!" 

The uncontrolled animal passion in the man's voice sent flames flaring out 
of control deep within the innocent eavesdropper's fire-filled vagina, and 
she was unable to stop herself from accelerating her delicate finger touch 
to an insistent massage of her desire-dampened crotchband. Beneath the moist 
nylon, the hardening bud of her nerve-filled clitoris rose in erotic 
excitement, sending out a spasm of pleasure which made the lewd grunts and 
cries in the next room seem inciting instead of horrifying. 

Closing her eyes as if that might somehow obliterate the sinful reality of 
what she was doing, Vicki let out a muffled whimper of resignation and 
slipped a timid finger inside the elastic waistband of her pajama panties. 
Wicked thrills of forbidden excitement shot through her bloodstream as she 
felt the silken-soft dampness of her own vaginal flesh and as tendrils of 
fine brown pubic hair teased at her trembling hand, she let her middle 
finger trace a bold path from the jutting mound of her curl-covered pussy 
all the way down to her puckered little anus. 

Since her traumatic marriage had dried up the wells of normal feminine 
desires, Vicki Marsten had felt no desire to masturbate. It had been quite a 
different story during her adolescence, however, and she remembered with 
shame many occasions when she'd succumbed to the temptation of what her 
mother called "unnatural practices". Especially after returning from dates 
with Mitch, she'd found sleep impossible without quelling the burning fires 
which raged in her frustrated vagina, and she'd been compelled to press and 
rub her girlish thighs together to satisfy her frenzied need. 

Now, leaning against the cool tile wall of the bathroom, she allowed herself 
to do what she'd always considered the most despicable thing of all - insert 
her own finger into her cuntal channel. As a teenager she'd fantasized about 
doing this, but hadn't dared to try anything so obscene until this 
nightmarish moment. 

Mortified, but driven by forces too fierce to control, she shoved her finger 
in and out of the moistly clasping channel in rhythm to the wanton chorus of 
groans, wet sucking sounds, and protesting bedsprings. 

"Aaaahhh," she heard her own voice echo in the small bathroom, and at once 
stifled her outburst. God, what if she woke up Mitch and he saw what she was 
doing? Or what if the others heard her? 

For some strange reason, the thought of being discovered in her unforgivable 
act of masturbation sent a unexplainable quiver of arousal abandoned 
shooting along her nerve-endings. No longer caring about the immorality of 
what she was doing, Vicki began circling her sensitive clitoral bud with her 
thumb at the same time she insinuated another finger in her pulsating 
vagina. It had been so long since she'd felt any physical desire that she 
was almost fainting with excitement and would have collapsed had she not 
been leaning against the blue-flowered tiles. 

"I'm there! Cumming! C'mon, keep sucking! Cummmminggggg!" 

The impassioned man's wail faded into a strangled grown of ecstasy, and the 
eavesdropping nineteen year old heard a gulping, sucking sound. Was her 
friend Claudia actually swallowing her boss's sperm? It was unspeakable! 
She'd never imagined such a sordid thing in all her life! 

Suddenly something clicked in Vicki's lust-confused brain and she looked 
down at herself in appalled disgust. The sight of her upraised nightgown and 
her own hand inserted inside her blue nylon panties sent a shudder shivering 
along her spine, and she quickly pulled away her traitorous fingers. There 
was a soft sluicing sound as they popped from the desire-drenched cuntal 
channel, but the guilt-stricken brunette never heard it as a loud shriek 
from the adjourning room drowned out all other noise. 

"Aaaarrrhhhh!" shrilled a feminine voice which Vicki identified as belonging 
to Dale Varden. "Yes! Do it like that! Lick me right there! Eeeeehhhhhh!" 

I'm getting out of here. I don't have to listen to this! Vicki silently told 
her reflection in the mirror above the sink. It's going to drive me crazy if 
I hear another minute of it! With one last glance toward her wild-eyed, 
flushed-cheeked face, the distressed young wife snuck from the bathroom, 
then paused in the doorway to stare at the shadowy bulk of her husband 
beneath the covers. I can't stand to go back to bed, either, she decided, 
twisting her slender hands together nervously as an ecstatic feminine moan 
echoed from the room beyond. In her innermost heart, she knew that if Mitch 
had awakened and wanted to make love, she'd have been beside him in an 
instant - but she chose to ignore her own knowledge. I'll take a little 
walk. . . that'll clear up my head, she told herself. 

Chapter FIVE 

Outside, the magical panorama of stars had blurred into thick clouds, and a 
light mist was falling. Vicki shivered and clutched her light nightgown 
close to her body, wishing she'd thrown on a robe but loathe to reenter the 
cottage. As she stood indecisively by the wall of the chalet-type cabin, 
toes curling in the damp grass she suddenly realized that the sounds of the 
orgy were still ringing in her ears. The squeals and moans were much softer 
out here . . . but if she were to walk around to the other side of the house 
. . . 

A strange light flickered in the overwrought brunette's large blue eyes as 
she began to move robot-like in the direction of the voices, and her pussy 
began to burn with the same relentless fire she'd been feeling earlier in 
the bathroom. She had to see it - had to know if her friend Dale was really 
allowing her husband to touch her vagina with his mouth. No power on earth 
was strong enough to keep her away from the beam of light beyond a clump of 
honeysuckles, the light which she guessed came from their bedroom. 

A branch crackled under her feet as the barefoot brunette stepped from the 
lawn into the bushes beneath the bedroom window, and her heart caught in her 
throat at the possibility of being caught spying on her friends like some 
sort of sex maniac. Her fears were groundless; the two couples on the 
enormous double bed were so noisily absorbed in their activities that they 
wouldn't even have heard a large tree crashing in the woods outside. 

Curiosity overcoming her trepidation, Vicki fell to her knees on the damp 
ground so that her face was pressed against the window box and her eager 
eyes were staring into the bedroom through a row of plastic geraniums. It 
was a perfect view, and an excellent hiding place, but even if she'd been 
taking a much graver risk she'd have been unable to tear herself away from 
the sight which met her eyes. 

As the eavesdropping gjrl had surmised from the sounds, Dale Varden's 
golden-fringed pussy was indeed being tongue-fucked - but by Gregory Payne 
instead of her husband! The petite blonde lay spread-eagled on her back, her 
face contorted in obvious passion as the dark-haired man crouched between 
her suntanned thighs and snaked his tongue into her wantonly offered vagina 
like a ravenous animal. 

For a moment Vicki was too dazed by this depraved sight to take in any more 
of the details. Her eyes widened as she gaped at Payne's saliva- and 
perspiration-slickened face and maniacal expression, and all of a sudden she 
remembered how she'd danced with him, how his swollen penis had pressed 
against her and ignited the fierce fires of desire in her formerly frigid 
loins. Why, it might easily have been she lying there now beneath his 
obscenely lapping tongue, moaning and mewling in helpless surrender to his 
perverted oral caresses! 

A long shudder ran through the thinly clad brunette, but though the night 
air was chill in the mountains, her shivering came from inner turmoil rather 
than any external cause. Disgusting as it was, she knew she wanted to be in 
Dale Varden's place on that bed! 

Oh, God help me! she cried silently. I'm as sick as they are! I'm a 
dirty-minded voyeur and I LIKE to see the awful things they're doing. And I 
want to do them, too! 

Just as the frustrated young wife's hand was hovering against her pulsating 
cuntal slit and her conscience was fighting a losing battle with her 
frustrated flesh, her attention shifted to the far end of the bed. There, 
lying flat on her back between her boss's legs, was Claudia - and she had 
Payne's enormous, angry-red penis inside her mouth! And on top of her - oh, 
it was too obscene to be true! - was Vince, ramming his huge thickness into 
her auburn-haired pussy with such force that her whole body shook from the 
impact of his downstrokes. 

For several long moments Vicki was paralyzed with shock. Scarcely able to 
breath, she knelt outside the bedroom window trying to absorb the unlimited 
boundaries of her friends' depravity. How could anyone, especially nice, 
normal girls whom she'd known all her life, allow their bodies to be 
violated in such wicked ways? 

Gradually, however, Vicki's shock diminished and the direction of her 
thoughts changed as a fluttering sensation spread from her re-dampened pussy 
to every nerve ending in her trembling body. What does Dale feel like with 
that long tongue touching her down there where it's so sensitive? her mind 
whirled. I must feel warm and wet. . . much more exciting than a finger. And 
what about Claudia - don't her lips hurt from being stretched so far. . . 
doesn't she feel like choking with that great big thing pulsing so far 
inside her mouth? 

Fascinated in spite of herself, Vicki stared at Claudia's flame-colored head 
bobbing upward to meet the brutal thrusts of her employer's iron-hard cock. 
Suddenly the man let out a strangled roar, his entire body growing rigid 
save for his mouth and tongue which continued their lewd ravishment of the 
moaning blonde's vagina. 

"Yeah! I'm there! I'm cuummmmmminnnggggg! Aaarrrgggg!" the advertising 
executive wailed, and an instant later the redhead was gulping and choking. 
Life-giving sperm ballooned her cheeks and her eyes shone with lurid 
pleasure as she struggled to swallow every last drop of his shooting load. 

Unbeknownst to the three orgiasts, the watching woman's hand had once again 
slipped up under her nightgown hem. At the first touch of her finger to her 
tender cuntal tissue, she knew that she was going to reach climax, and reach 
it far more quickly than ever before in her nineteen years. Flashes of 
liquid lightning blazed through her blood, making her breath come in short 
panting gasps as she rested her burning forehead upon the wooden window box. 

Inside, the wantonly entangled couples were all reaching their climaxes, and 
their ecstasy was so obvious that it obliterated the last twinges of the 
young voyeur's guilt. The two fingers she'd thrust inside her tumescent 
vagina stroked in and out as fast as she could propel them, while her thumb 
massaged her tingling clitoris to a hard nub of blissful sensation. In 
another minute, she knew she'd be cumming along with the rest! 

Sticky white rivulets of sperm were trickling obscenely down her girlfriend 
Claudia's pink cheeks as her slender body writhed in the throes of passion 
beneath another woman's husband's pistoning penis. Suddenly there was a loud 
groan from Vince, and then the voluptuous redhead's loins rose up to meet 
his last mighty thrust. 

"Uuuuugggghhhh .. . aaaggghhhh ..." She choked out her delight in a 
cock-muffled voice which sent icy shivers of excitement rippling through the 
spying brunette outside. "Yyyaaahhhhhh!" 

Vicki's eyes bugged out from their sockets in prurient fascination as she 
saw that cream-white threads of male cum were seeping out onto Claudia's 
firm-fleshed thighs as well as onto her lust-twisted face. The mere thought 
of having two men abuse her helpless body at the same time was so wickedly 
thrilling that Vicki's finders sped still faster into her aching vagina, and 
an involuntary whimper burst from her parched lips. 

Be quiet! some last remnant of sanity cautioned. Do you want them to find 
you out here finger-fucking yourself like a common slut? 

Though Vicki heard the warning ring in her brain, she was too aroused by now 
to pay it much heed. The normally self-controlled and modest nineteen year 
old had been transformed by the salacious spectacle she was witnessing into 
a mindless mass of feminine flesh whose only concern was satisfaction of her 
animal needs. 

"Oooooohhhhhh!" she murmured again as the waves of pleasure in her 
finger-titillated cuntal passage surged more strongly. "Ohhhh, pleeeaaassse 
..." 

Inside the bedroom, the four pleasure-sated bodies had collapsed in a 
jumbled heap upon the big bed, their sweat-slickened flesh shimmering in the 
dim light of the kerosene lamp. Soft purrs and mewls of post-orgasmic 
contentment were the only sounds they uttered as they struggled to catch 
their breath, and in this sudden quiet Dale, who lay nearest the open 
window, slowly grew aware of a peculiar sound. 

Maybe it's only an animal, she told herself, but I bet it's Vicki! There was 
no way she couldn't have heard all the racket we were making - that was part 
of the plan! 

Curiosity and concern about her girlhood friend quickly overcame the petite 
blonde's peaceful, satisfied sense of inertia, and she struggled away from 
the tangle of bodies so suddenly that the girl outside hadn't a chance to 
move a muscle before Dale's face appeared at the window. Vicki caught a 
whiff of the erotic scent of lovemaking - male and female fluids laced with 
perspiration - as she knelt on the ground, frozen with fright. It seemed as 
though her girlfriend's eyes had caught sight of her, but then the gaze 
immediately flicked off into the dark woods beyond and she couldn't be sure. 

Not daring to breathe for fear of being detected, the guilty brunette shut 
her eyes in a subconscious superstitious hope that this would prevent her 
girlfriend from seeing her. Her fingers were still humiliatingly inserted in 
her now-numb vagina, for she didn't dare risk taking them out and making a 
sound. Never in her entire life had she been in such a disastrous situation; 
it was as though she were simultaneously experiencing every nightmare she'd 
had in her young life. 

"Whatcha doin', honey?" the anguished voyeur heard Vince Varden exclaim. 
"C'mon back here! We ain't finished with this night yet, not by a long 
shot!" 

"I hope not, lover!" Dale responded glibly. 

She'd seen her high school friend crouched in the honeysuckle bushes, her 
hand up under her blue nightie, but had hurriedly averted her eyes so as not 
to embarrass her. Nor was she about to tell the others, at least not until 
she'd thought things over and seen how Vicki reacted tomorrow morning. 

"I'm just kinda cold, in my birthday suit like this. Just shutting the 
window, that's all." 

"Well, hurry up about it," Vince growled. He enjoyed being aggressive and 
authoritarian when involved in a swap scene like this one, and he knew it 
turned his wife on as much as it did him. "This here cock of mine's just 
about ready to taste that sweet little mouth of yours!" 

Vicki's breath hissed from her lungs in grateful relief as the latticed 
window banged shut and she heard Dale fastening the shutters. Even with 
everything securely locked, she could still make out faint sounds as the 
uninhibited orgy resumed, but fear had temporarily killed her lust. 
Shuddering in self-repugnance, she removed her hand from her moistened 
vaginal channel and silently crept away from the cabin, bitter tears 
flooding up in her eyes at the realization of what she had just done. 

"Did Dale see me?" she muttered to the windblown trees. "How can I ever face 
any of them again?" 

Now that she was away from the shelter of the cottage's overhanging eaves 
and the honeysuckle bushes, Vicki noticed that it had begun to rain in 
earnest. Nevertheless, she continued to stand in the backyard, staring 
blindly at the starless sky and shadowy mountains through tear-distorted 
eyes. At last her feet carried her will-less back toward the entrance of the 
bedroom she'd been assigned to share with her husband. Shivering from the 
chill September night, she crawled back under the warm covers and lay 
ramrod-still for several minutes. Mitch, from the sound of his low, regular 
snores, was still sound asleep. 

I want to die! she thought as her burning eyes focused unseeingly on the 
quaintly beamed ceiling of Gregory Payne's luxurious mountain retreat. I 
don't know how I'll ever look my only real friends in the eye again, and I 
can't even blame them because I know that I'm just as sick and degenerate as 
they are. Maybe I should just go away - join a convent, or get a job in some 
city where no one knows me. 

Even in the throes of the most acute misery she'd ever experienced, however, 
the nineteen year old wife was sufficiently cognizant of the flaws in her 
plans for running away. Only Catholics became nuns, she knew, and her family 
had been Methodist; and she'd flunked typing in high school, always having 
assumed she'd marry Mitch and therefore never applying herself to the 
tedious chore of learning the touch system. There were other sorts of jobs, 
of course - waitressing and the like - but she had only about five dollars 
in her wallet, and that wouldn't even get her out of this Arkansas 
wilderness. 

"Ooohhhhh, yeah, lover!" she heard a female's voice echo dimly through the 
cabin walls. "That's it! Right there! Deep down inside me! Harder! Fuck me 
harder!" 

A chorus of faint groans and muffled love-cries teased at Vicki's ears, and 
though she desperately tried to ignore the noises, she found to her acute 
dismay that she was once again swamped with an uncontrollable flood of 
physical arousal. Sighing deeply, she turned on her side and gazed sadly at 
the snoring figure beside her, trying to swallow her pride enough to wake 
him with a gesture that would tell him she wanted to make love. 

It seemed certain that she could respond to her husband in the over-excited 
state her body was in, and if she could prove to him that she was able to be 
a real woman, a true wife, then perhaps all of tonight's shocking ugliness 
would have been worthwhile. Saving their marriage was the only really 
important thing, for Vicki Marsten couldn't even begin to visualize life 
without the one and only man she'd ever loved. 

Just as the timid brunette was reaching out a rather shaky hand to stroke 
Mitch's tousled blond hair, the tall man groaned in his sleep and rolled 
further away from her. Her hand shot back under the sheet, and she 
automatically shifted away until there was enough space between them for a 
third person. 

He's only dreaming... it didn't mean anything, Vicki tried to reassure 
herself, but she could not bring herself to make another overture. What if 
he rebuffed her because of the vulgar way she'd danced with Gregory Payne? 
She'd never be able to bear that! 

It seemed to Vicki that she lay awake for hours trying not to hear the 
obscene sounds coming from the next room, trying to erase the thought of all 
she'd seen through the open window. Finally she drifted off into a restless 
sleep, only to awaken from a disturbing dream just as the sky beyond the 
mountains was turning a misty, pearl-pink color and birds were beginning to 
chorus loudly in the tall trees surrounding the cabin. 

Vicki's sleep-blurred eyes stared vacantly out the window on Mitch's side of 
the bed, but the dream had left her too distraught to perceive the beauty of 
the mountain sunrise. 

I wanted it to happen like in the dream! her brain screamed in a moment of 
poignant self awareness. I wanted Mitch to find me watching through the 
window and come up behind and. .. and rape me, fuck me till I was screaming 
and exploding inside! And then I wanted the others to hear us, so we all six 
could be together doing everything to each other! Oh God! I must be really 
sick to feel that way! Or... or maybe I've got things all twisted up... I 
mean, that must be the way Dale and Claudia feel, too. Oh, I don't know! I 
just don't know any more . . . 

The sun rose over the horizon, a glowing ball of crimson fire hovering over 
the distant purple hills, but Vicki never noticed it. Her tangled chestnut 
curls were buried in her pillow as she choked back hot tears and tried to 
puzzle out the way her life had altered in the past twenty-four hours. 

Chapter SIX 

There was some sort of large insect droning incessantly over Vicki Marsten's 
sheet-shrouded head, and the sunlight streamed so brightly through the 
half-open window that she felt like a Christmas pudding steaming in the 
oven. She longed for a long, cleansing shower, but there were still voices 
moving about the cottage and she couldn't bring herself to face the other 
girls yet. Last night's events were still too vivid in her mind to enable 
her to act at all natural with her best friends. 

Restlessly kicking off the sheet, Vicki noticed with a shudder that there 
were grass and dirt stains on her pale blue nightgown. This concrete 
evidence brought on a fresh flood of shame for the perverted thrills she'd 
experienced as an unseen voyeur, and she glared balefully at the 
sun-drenched pastoral scene outside her window. 

I was so happy to be going to this lovely place, she thought bitterly. Well, 
if I'd known what sort of weekend it would turn out to be, I'd have rather 
stayed in Cedarburg the rest of my life. 

A fragrant odor of coffee and toast drifted in from the kitchen, but even 
though the troubled brunette suddenly realized she was hungry and thirsty, 
she couldn't bring herself to budge from the relative safety of her bed. It 
filled her with sadness to think that it was the best friends she had in the 
world she was avoiding; if you had neither a husband who loved you nor 
friends to trust, you might as well be dead. 

Wiping away a self-pitying tear, Vicki dragged herself out of bed at last. 
Lying here agonizing wouldn't do any good; no, better to carry on a pretense 
of normalcy until she'd figured out what she ought to do. Maybe if she spoke 
with Dale and Claudia, she'd be able to understand things better. 

But what if Dale really did see me peering in through the bedroom window 
like a filthy-minded Peeping Tom? Vicki's confused thoughts continued as she 
vigorously soaped her voluptuous body. And even if she didn't see me - oh, 
God, I hope not! - how can I even begin to start discussing something like 
this? It's just too embarrassing ... I suppose I could ask them for advice 
about Mitch, but even that's too hard to talk about. 

At the thought of her husband, the young wife's spirits brightened a little. 
He, together with Vince and Gregory, had left several hours ago for a 
fishing excursion on the nearby White River, hangovers forgotten as they 
resumed their animated discussion of rods and reels and techniques. Although 
she'd feigned sleep as he foraged noisily in the bathroom for Alka-Seltzer 
and toothbrush, Mitch had caught a glimpse of her eyes peeping from under 
the sheet and had come toward her. 

"Don't look so sad, honey," he'd said with unexpected tenderness. "It's a 
beautiful day and everything's gonna start goin' better for us, too. Cheer 
up! You'll see, everything's gonna be all right." 

Then, after planting a loving, toothpaste-scented kiss on her lips, he'd 
clattered out the door to join the other men. Of course, he'd never have 
been so nice if he'd known how sluttishly she'd behaved the night before, 
but his warm gesture still made her feel better. If only she, too, could 
hold some real hope for the future . .. 

To Vicki's intense relief, Dale and Claudia were gone when she finally made 
her way to the kitchen. A note on the table read: "Gone swimming down by the 
stream. Come on down when you get up, lazybones! Dale and Claudia." 

If Dale had really seen her spying on their orgy, she wouldn't be able to 
write so casually, Vicki tried to assure herself. But then she remembered 
that her girlfriends had deceived her for God knows how long about their 
swapping activities . . . how could she know what to believe now? Sighing, 
the skimpily-clad brunette poured herself some lukewarm coffee and began 
washing the stack of cups and saucers in the sink. No, she'd just stay 
around the cottage, explore a bit and lie in the sun. Hopefully, by 
lunchtime she'd be in better shape to confront the others. 

In her absorption in her problems, she never noticed the peculiar fact that 
both cars were gone from the front drive. 

* * * 

As Dale and Claudia, dressed in the tiniest possible bikinis, made their way 
down a deeply rutted dirt road in the Vardens' Chevrolet, their thoughts 
were just as much concerned with Vicki Marsten as the troubled brunette's 
were with them. Dale had, after some consideration, decided to confide in 
Claudia. After all, the redhead had always been the brightest of them, the 
one who found solutions to impossible problems. 

"Watching us, huh," Claudia murmured after Dale had finished relating her 
story. "And masturbating. Interesting . . . very interesting." The elegant 
auburn-haired model paused to stare out the window at the dense thicket 
through which they were passing, then continued. "Well, I think that sounds 
like our plan's more likely to work than ever, don't you?" 

"Oh, I don't know ..." Dale sounded a little worried, and she began biting 
her full pink lower lip indecisively as she maneuvered the automobile around 
a large fallen pine. "I s'pose. Unless she was too shocked, or something. I 
tried to pretend I hadn't seen her, but I don't know what she thought. I 
mean, she didn't get out of bed till we left this morning, did she?" 

"She'd embarrassed, of course," Claudia's voice was cool, confident. "And 
she's also very suggestible: I remember that from school days, when she'd 
join the swim team 'cause I told her it was a good thing, or the Pep Club, 
or whatever. She always looks at what other people are up to before she 
leaps. And look at the way she believed all that shit her mother pumped into 
her about men. Gullible! So last night she saw us - and this morning she's 
wondering. Right?" 

"Yeah... I guess so." Dale's face turned pink, an unusual occurrence for the 
self-assured blonde; but then the plan Claudia had dreamed up was 
extraordinary enough to make Cleopatra blush. "You . . . you really think we 
should go ahead with this?" she asked. 

"Of course! Why not?" Claudia let out a low, sultry laugh. "It'll be fun to 
get my hands on Mitch Marsten after all these years, and I know you've had 
the hots for him as long as I have, Dale - don't deny it!" 

"But. . . but maybe we're going too far." 

The glamorous redhead waved a well-manicured hand in a scoffing gesture. 
"Really, Dale! Don't talk like you don't know anything more about the world 
than Cedarburg, Kansas." 

The petite blonde blushed redder than ever, but fell silent. Sometimes she 
wasn't at all sure she liked Claudia much. Certainly, Claudia was the most 
beautiful, glamorous, and intelligent woman of her acquaintance . . . but, 
well, she wasn't very compassionate. Vicki, even though she was admittedly 
the not-too-bright sort who was easily maneuvered, was also the type who 
wouldn't hurt a person, animal or plant if she could possibly help it. 

Before either girl could say more, they caught sight of Gregory Payne's 
mud-spattered, new-model Plymouth, looking incongruous in its parking place 
in a forest glade. Vince and Greg stepped out of the car as the girls pulled 
to a stop, broad grins of anticipation on their faces. 

"Shhhhh!" Vince held his finger to his lips. "Mitch is just down that bank, 
by the river. Everything's worked out just fine. We told him we were going 
off to see some guy 'bout plans for this nightclub I have in mind, and told 
him you gals would pick him up 'bout lunchtime." 

"Oh, Vince, honey," Dale appealed to her husband. "Do you really think it's 
a good idea?" 

"Why the hell not?" he demanded, teasingly tweaking her nipples through the 
sheer nylon fabric of her red and black bikini. 

"Too late to stop us now, anyway," added Gregory. "After last night, I wanna 
get my hands on that stuck-up little broad so bad that nothing's going to 
stop me!" 

"Don't worry about a thing," Claudia assured them. "We'll keep Mitch out of 
the way while you teach Vicki a few lessons about fucking. With pleasure!" 
Her red-nailed finger traced a suggestive path across her skimpy pale green 
lace bikini bottoms. 

"Just don't be too rough," Dale still sounded worried. "Don't scare her or 
anything." 

"What's got into you, anyway?" Vince sounded rather irritated at his wife's 
reluctance. "You were the one who wanted to turn on your uptight girlfriend. 
Okay, so we're gonna do just that!" 

"C'mon, let's get moving," Gregory urged. "This thing may have been inspired 
by high-minded motives, but at the moment I'm inspired by the beginning of 
an enormous hard-on." 

Claudia grinned lewdly at her boss and got out of the car, Dale following 
suit. The two males got in and started the motor, and then Gregory stuck his 
head out the window for a parting shot. 

"And you girls take it easy with Mitch, hear! If the object of this is to 
save their marriage, you'd better leave a little something left over for 
Vicki!" 

Giggling, the girls made their way down a faint footpath leading down the 
bank toward the river. Mitch's figure could be seen far below, standing 
beside the water with a fishing line in one hand and a cigarette in the 
other. There was no other sign of life save for the chattering birds and 
multi-color butterflies, and the young women's pulses quickened as they 
thought of the illicit acts which they were going to perform in complete 
privacy with their best friend's unsuspecting husband. 

Mitch turned quickly as he heard sticks and brambles crackling on the path 
behind him. At first he couldn't see who was approaching, for the bright sun 
glinting off the water almost blinded him, and when he did recognize the two 
girls he was at first a little irritated. It had been nice and peaceful all 
alone here after Vince and Gregory had rather abruptly disappeared, the fish 
had started biting, and he'd been able to think rationally about his 
marriage without all the usual distractions. When he caught sight of their 
skimpy bikinis, however, his rugged face brightened into a welcoming grin. 

"Hi there," he greeted them. "Didn't expect to see you till 'round noon." He 
glanced at his wristwatch - it read ten-thirty. "Feel like trying your hand 
at a bit of fishing?" 

The two young women merely giggled and moved in so that they stood on either 
side of him, their virtually naked loins almost grazing his swim-suit-clad 
figure in such a provocative way that Mitch's attention immediately focused 
completely upon them. His eyes drifted down over Dale's half-naked curves, 
and he reddened as he remembered his intention of getting her off alone in 
the woods. Shit, if she weren't with Claudia now he didn't think he'd be 
able to stop himself. 

The diminutive blonde felt his eyes gliding over her body, sensing them 
pausing at her straining, low-cut bikini top and then locking on the strip 
of green lace which made a pretense of covering her slightly protruding 
pubic mound. Smiling seductively, she followed his eyes and saw that several 
curling tendrils of golden pubic hair had escaped from the tight legband of 
the panties. Then, so pointedly that Mitch could not fail to catch her 
intent, she stared directly at the swelling protuberance in his nylon 
swim-trunks. 

For the briefest second the two girl's eyes met in a gleeful flicker of 
triumph. So far, the plan was working exactly as they'd hoped! 

"What do you think he's looking at?" Dale asked Claudia in an artificial 
tone which gave Mitch the uncomfortable feeling of being a spectator rather 
than a participant in this bizarre conversation. 

"I bet he's looking at that cute bikini you got in LA!" Claudia gave a husky 
laugh. " 'Specially at the way those pretty little cunt hairs are sticking 
out!" 

"Do you s'pose Mitch'd like to have a look at my whole pussy, Claudia?" 
Dale's voice quivered with excitement as she observed Marsten's penis 
thicken and his face redden. It gave her a strange thrill to see the power 
she had over their former classmate and her growing arousal drowned out the 
last of her nagging doubts about Claudia's plan to seduce Mitch by 
performing a lesbian act until he was too turned on to resist joining in 
their lewd games and breaking his marriage vows. Though she'd never done 
anything like that in her life, the idea of behaving with such incredible 
wantonness was curiously stimulating. 

"I think," the redhead purred in her sultriest voice, "That Mitch wants me 
to take off your bikini so he can see your lovely body." 

Marsten's face contorted in confusion as he saw that Claudia Champlin was 
doing exactly what she'd said she would. His tongue snaked nervously over 
his suddenly parched lips and he gulped in embarrassment as he grew 
alarmingly aware of the throbbing bulge in his tight trunks. 

Jesus! Dreaming semi-seriously about seducing Dale Varden had been one thing 
- but this! What in God's name had gotten into his wife's girlfriends to 
make them act like this? Part of him wished they'd stop, for he didn't want 
to lose self-control after the optimistic feeling he'd had this morning with 
Vicki... but the more compelling voice in his soul wanted to watch them play 
out the salacious spectacle. 

The sophisticated redhead's slim fingers slipped inside her blonde friend's 
bikini bottoms, cupping her lushly rounded buttocks for an instant and then 
tugging the tiny scrap of material off. Never taking her eyes from Mitch's 
bemused face, she softly stroked Dale's sparsely curling blonde pubic "vee" 
with one hand while with the other she undid the back fastening on the 
brassiere. 

"This is the way Mitch wants to see you - all naked out in the middle of the 
woods with no one else around," murmured Claudia. 

"What else does he want?" Dale's voice was low and breathless as she fell 
into the spirit of the game they'd planned. Once again, she was giving her 
redheaded friend credit for an extraordinary intelligence. This was more 
exciting than anything they'd done or seen in Los Angeles! 

Claudia pursed her scarlet-painted lips as she glanced at the red-faced, 
noticeably disturbed young husband, and then the raspberry tip of her tongue 
darted hungrily out of her mouth in the classic gesture of provocation. 

"I think he wants to see me make you hot," she said at last. "He wants me to 
put my finger up inside your soft little pussy, and suck your breasts, and 
then ..." 

The tall, auburn-haired model let her sentence trail off in tantalizing 
promise of what was to come as she grazed her right hand over Dale's golden 
pussy mound. Then, taking the other girl's full breasts in her hands, she 
gently guided her to a kneeling position on the sandy riverbank. Mitch stood 
a few feet away from them, his breath coming in audible gasps at the 
incredible sight of the two girls he'd known since high school days moving 
into an erotic lesbian embrace. 

Could he possibly be dreaming? Mitch asked himself, but one glance at the 
fishing rod in his hand and the pails of worms and fish at his feet 
convinced him that he was definitely wide awake. Nothing like this had ever 
happened to him in his life - it was just like the stories Vince had told 
about Hollywood, or the sex-shows in Scandinavia and Amsterdam that one of 
his buddies in Vietnam was always going on about. Perhaps he was betraying 
Vicki by not walking away, but what red-blooded American guy could resist a 
temptation like this? 

"Aaahhhh," the naked blonde sighed softly as Claudia's middle finger teased 
at her blonde pussy "vee" for a moment and then slipped with an obscene 
sluicing noise up into her excitement-moistened cuntal channel. 

Mitch's incredulous eyes bugged from his head at his old classmate's 
blissful moan and the glimpse he'd caught of coral-pink cuntal flesh. He 
couldn't take his eyes from the prurient sight of the redhead's four 
scarlet-nailed fingers nestling in Dale's pale gold pussy curls - and one 
nail hidden up inside her fair - fringed vagina! For a brief instant a 
vision of his wife's innocent, woebegone face as he'd seen it before he left 
that very morning swam before his lust-glazed eyes, but it was almost 
immediately dispelled by the slow re-emergence of Claudia's fingertip from 
between her blonde friend's thighs. 

"Christ!" he muttered under his breath, not even aware that he'd spoken 
aloud. 

Sticky feminine secretions glistened on the redhead's middle finger as she 
slowly lifted her hand toward her face and licked the fluid away. All the 
while, her teasing eyes challenged the stupefied young husband. 

"Look at Mitch," Claudia turned back to Dale at last. "I think he liked 
seeing me stick my finger in your pussy, honey. Let's try it once more to 
make sure." 

The naked blonde whimpered something incoherent so overcome by her own 
wicked corruption that she could scarcely move her parched lips. Though 
she'd not admitted anything of the sort to her more sophisticated city girl 
friend, her experience in this sort of thing was very minimal. Once, after 
watching one of her brother-in-law's large collection of Scandinavian blue 
movies called "Four Women Alone", and after consuming almost half a bottle 
of Pernod, she'd sucked her husband's cock together with an equally 
intoxicated college girl who paid her tuition by dancing topless at Art 
Varden's nightclub. This incident had not quite prepared her for being 
finger-fucked by another woman, but since she'd not wanted to seem like the 
"small-town hick" Claudia kept calling her, she'd pretended not to be 
shocked when the plan was proposed. 

Now, to the petite blonde's astonishment, raging flames of arousal were 
shooting out from her finger-impaled vagina to every sensitized nerve-ending 
in her body. Part of her excitement stemmed from the delicious thrill of 
doing something strictly forbidden in front of the man she'd been longing to 
seduce for years, and part was sheer surprise at how wonderful Claudia's 
gentle finger felt as it surged back up between her trembling cuntal lips. 

Oh, it's like Heaven! Dale's pleasure-demented mind cried. She knows just 
where to rub and press inside me. . . and her thumb on my clit, too!. . . 
and Mitch's eyes popping out of his head and his cock out of his trunks! 

Mitch shivered as the taller girl's finger shot back up insider her friend's 
unprotected pussy, pushing back the damp pink folds of her vaginal lips 
until it was imbedded all the way to the third knuckle. His gaze shifted 
back and forth between the two beautiful young women, lingering first on the 
blonde he'd dreamed of fucking all week long, then on the statuesque redhead 
whom had once, long ago, attempted to rub her newly developed body up 
against him in the bushes outside the house where she was babysitting. 

He remembered the feel of those breasts for the first time in years . . . 
and now they were rubbing up against Dale Varden's naked body, the nubby 
lace fabric of the redhead's bikini top teasing Dale's full, reddish, brown 
nipples into taut miniature erections. Suddenly he wished that Claudia, too, 
would take off her bathing suit so that both girls would be kneeling totally 
naked in the sand before him. 

As though she were reading his mind, the red-haired model murmured to her 
friend, "I think Mitch wants you to take off my bikini, too. He wants us 
both naked." 

There was a low sucking sound as Claudia's middle finger once again slipped 
from Dale's swollen red cuntal lips, followed by a soft cooing sound as 
their lips met in a spontaneous kiss. Despite her giddy sense of erotic 
delight, the curvaceous blonde had no difficulty in unsnapping her friend's 
brassiere and tugging her wispy green lace panties down over her slender 
hips. Obviously she could scarcely wait to get her hands on her friend's 
most intimate flesh. I gotta get the hell outta here before I rape both of 
'em, Ted told himself, but his feet refused to budge. He felt hypnotized by 
the girls' sensual performance, and the fact that they were Vicki's best 
friends and that what the three of them were doing out here would wound his 
sensitive, naive wife irreparably made no difference. He had to see if they 
would really go all the way and make indecent lesbian love, as Claudia had 
hinted they would. Christ, they seemed to be enjoying themselves - he'd 
always thought only perverts got a kick out of kinky stuff like this. 

"Uuummmmmm . . . goooooddddd . . ." Claudia whispered as her bikini bottoms 
were pulled over her high-arched white feet by her quivering girl friend. 
She'd begun to suspect that this might be the first time Dale had tried 
anything like this, despite her claims of wide experience, and for some 
reason this made her all the more excited. 

Beads of perspiration broke out on Mitch Marsten's handsome face and his 
fishing pole dropped unnoticed onto the grass at his feet. Though he was 
still trying to convince himself that he didn't want to get physically 
involved in this lewd scene and destroy whatever possibility there was of 
saving his five month-old marriage, his face had taken on the look of an 
unattended youngster staring at a richly laden candy counter. 

The contrast between the slim, auburn-haired Claudia and the curvaceous 
blonde Dale was not only esthetically pleasing, but also unbearably erotic. 
Each young girl was, in her own way, a perfect example of a certain type of 
feminine beauty; together they merged into the essence of sensual womanhood. 
Claudia's breasts were smaller than her petite girl friend's, but they were 
perfectly rounded and had bright strawberry-pink nipples which made Mitch 
suddenly want to take them in his mouth and suck until she screamed for 
mercy. 

The goddamn cock-teasing bitch! he screamed inwardly as his fully erect 
throbbed painfully against his swimming trunks. She's been trying to do this 
for years! Jesus, I'd like to ram my cock into that stuck-up ass of hers and 
teach her a good lesson. 

He turned to Dale, and though she was cooing in a soft, vulnerable way and 
appeared to be as mesmerized by the redhead model as he himself was, his 
self-righteous rage only increased. That little yellow-haired bitch had been 
driving him crazy, too, and he couldn't stand much more of it. How he longed 
to rush up behind those billowing, milk-white ass-cheeks and plunge up 
between them with his iron-hard thickness! 

The lust-demented husband's reverie was interrupted by a low whisper from 
Claudia, who'd pulled the smaller girl down so that they lay side by side on 
the grass with their naked breasts and contrasting gold and red pussies just 
barely touching. 

"Mitch wants me to kiss your cunt, Dale. And you'd like that too, wouldn't 
you?" 

The sensuous blonde housewife threw Marsten a glance which caused him to 
break out in a cold sweat. 

"Yes, oh yessss ..." she purred. "If Mitch wants me to ... " 

Suddenly the T.V. repairman's legs turned to water and he sank to a sitting 
position on the river bank, his muscular, six-foot frame crumpling as though 
he were a marionette manipulated by forces far beyond his control. They're 
really gonna do it! his mind whirled in disbelief. They're gonna go all the 
way! Shit, what if Vicki knew. . . ! But I don 7 give a damn! I don't even 
want to think about her. 

Dale Varden's eyes fixed on his crotch, while the graceful redhead 
positioned herself so that her lovely face was directly up against the other 
girl's sparse, cornsilk-yellow pussy curls. Swirls of vehement desire 
churned within his scrotum as he sensed the desire radiating from her blue 
eyes, and his passion heightened as his intentions of remaining faithful to 
Vicki vanished. Why not he rationalized rather dizzily as Claudia's 
raspberry-textured tongue snaked out toward the curling gold tendrils 
fringing her girl friend's pinkly glistening cuntal slit. Why the hell 
shouldn't I have myself a good time once and awhile too, like Vince and Greg 
must do? I'm sick of being a nice guy all the time. 

Dale saw a subtle change come over the avidly watching man's craggy-featured 
face, a sort of hardening of the month and determination in the eyes which 
told her that his male passion had taken control over his feelings of 
responsibility toward his wife and his shock at their lesbian embrace. Good! 
she thought, he'll be joining in before long! Then, as Claudia's skillful 
tongue stopped nibbling at her cuntal curls and abruptly circled around her 
pulsing vaginal lips, she had no thought for anything except the exquisite 
physical sensations which coursed through her willingly offered body. 

"Ooohhhhh," she heard herself whimper. "Oh, God! Oh, it's goooooddddddd!" 
Without realizing what she was doing, she'd begun grinding her fire-filled 
vagina up toward the other girl in a lewd, undulating motion. 

Claudia stared down in triumph at the squirming cuntal flesh of her high 
school friend, gloating in the fact that she was introducing Dale to a new 
and thrilling sexual activity. Her pleasurable anticipation was heightened 
by the fact that Mitch Marsten, who'd had the nerve to reject her advances 
so many years ago, was now an avid voyeur. Then, as her tongue encountered 
the bittersweet moisture of the wriggling blonde's desire-dampened vagina, 
she forgot all else save the delicious taste of forbidden feminine flesh. 

"Uuuuuugghhhhh," the naked redhead mewled, her voice muffled as her mouth 
pressed close up against Dale's narrow vaginal slit and saliva gathered in 
her throat at the taste of the other woman's feminine secretions. She let 
her tongue trail hungrily down between the two cream-white mounds of her 
friend's excitedly tensed ass-cheeks, teased briefly at the puckered 
rose-bud of her anus, then slowly snaked back toward the puffy pink petals 
of the girl's eagerly flowering vagina. 

One last time, Mitch's weakening conscience commanded him to leave. Even if 
he had to walk the fifteen-some miles back to the cabin, he would be better 
off than if he watched this depraved lesbian coupling one moment longer. Yet 
as he saw Claudia lock her fair-skinned face between Dale's spasmodically 
clutching thighs, his fervid excitement increased and his sense of 
obligation toward his faltering marriage faded. 

"Jesus!" he mumbled under this breath as his hand involuntarily groped 
toward the aching bulge in his nylon swim trunks. I'm not being unfaithful 
or anything like that, he rationalized longing to stroke his throbbing 
hard-on. I'm just watching. . . that's all. . . 

Neither girl heard Mitch's low cry, for a shrill wail of rapture from Dale 
had drowned out everything else. Of course she'd felt the exquisite pleasure 
of having a tongue invade her most private feminine flesh, but never had 
anyone known how to arouse her as this other woman did. To her amazement, 
she realized that Claudia could bring her to the point of climax more 
quickly than any male she'd ever enjoyed oral love with, maybe especially 
because the male she'd lusted after all during her adolescence was watching 
her helpless surrender. 

Half insane with the realization of her power over the others, the 
flame-haired model began to caress the ivory-white mounds of her friend's 
upthrust breasts. Despite the fact that Dale had had the largest breasts in 
their class at Cedarbury High, they rose up in unsagging youthful firmness 
from her golden torso, twin hills of beckoning feminine flesh. Impulsively, 
Claudia pinched hard at each large red nipple, delighting in the girl's low 
squeal of pleasure-pain and the way the nipples tautened at once into 
rock-hard buttons. 

"You've got such a lovely body, honey," she whispered huskily. "And Mitch 
thinks so, too ... he likes your big, beautiful tits . . . he wishes he 
could feel how warm and soft they are." 

As Claudia's saliva-wet mouth sank back down on her girl friend's eagerly 
upthrusting vagina, Mitch was indeed driven out of his mind with desire to 
touch the writhing young blonde's voluptuous body. Without realizing what he 
was doing, he pressed his hand against the swell of his nylon-encased penis 
and began unconsciously stroking up and down on the rock-hard bulge of his 
cock with a rapid, rhythmic motion. A few seconds later, his clean-shaven 
face turned a ruddy shade of red as he gazed at his lewdly pumping hand, but 
despite his reluctance to have his wife's two girlfriends see him 
masturbating he was unable to stop himself. 

Shit! he rationalized dizzily. I'm better off cumming in my swimming trunks 
like this than I am attacking them. I haven't got anything to be ashamed of 
- what they're doing's a hundred times more obscene! And I'm not really 
doing anything to hurt Vicki. . . 

The instant his eyes refocused on Claudia's deep-delving tongue, however, 
his dubious logic rapidly dissolved into a haze of mindless lust. The 
long-limbed redhead had climbed over Dale's left leg until she crouched with 
her own unprotected cunt hovering mere inches from the blonde girl's face, 
all the while keeping her own lapping tongue buried deep within the other 
girl's passion-soaked vagina. At first the bemused young husband didn't 
quite comprehend what was going on, but then suddenly he flashed on one of 
the Scandinavian pornographic magazines his army buddy had shown him, and he 
realized that the two women were going to simultaneously tongue-fuck one 
another. 

"Jesus!" he breathed, his eyes widening in astonishment. 

The man's amazed outcry echoed loudly in the open air, resounding above the 
sounds of lapping river water and shrill bird calls yet neither girl turned 
to look at him. They were too busy arranging their longing loins in a 
"sixty-nine" position to notice anything else, too intent on slithering 
their respective tongues into each other's eagerly receptive cuntal flesh to 
be diverted. 

Mitch, too, had lost all sense of reason. He no longer bothered to worry 
about his moralistic wife as he kneaded his passion-pulsating cock faster 
and faster; in fact, he had temporarily forgotten her existence. Sexual 
frenzy had wiped out the hopes and dreams he'd harbored earlier this morning 
for reshaping his faltering marriage and months of built-up frustration were 
surfacing in a tidal wave of pure animal passion. I gotta fuck them! his 
mind screamed in maniacal fury as he struggled to his feet and tore off the 
restraining nylon swimming trucks. The cock-teasing bitches! I'll show 'em! 

Mitch's burgeoning penis shot forth stiff and straight as a sapling 
tree-trunk as he stepped toward the mewling, writhing females. Once again he 
dropped to his knees, this time directly beside the girls, but their faces 
were buried in each other's desire-drenched vaginas and they appeared 
unaware of his presence. 

Vaguely irritated at being ignored, and in a fury of need at the sight of 
all this pulsing pink pussy flesh, Mitch wrenched Claudia's auburn head away 
from her fairskinned friend's thighs. The tall model's flame-colored pussy 
remained embedded in Dale's greedily licking mouth as she gaped up at the 
naked man, and slowly the frown on her saliva-smeared face changed to a 
smile of lewd satisfaction. Mitch, his own face lit, saw her eyes brighten 
as she fixed her gaze upon his burgeoning cock. By a rather grim smile of 
anticipation. 

Without another moment's delay, the long-frustrated young husband hunched 
his body forward so that his throbbing pole of aching male flesh danced 
against Claudia Champlin's- slightly parted red lips. 

"C'mon, suck it, you cock-teasing bitch!" he cried in an 
uncharacteristically harsh voice. "You've played games with me long enough 
-now it's my goddamn turn!" 

A surge of power and pride washed over the unfaithful young husband as he 
heard his aggressive shout echo through the peaceful river valley. This was 
the way a man was supposed to behave . . . and he didn't give a damn if it 
were right or wrong, or what the repercussions might be. He wasn't going to 
let two nineteen-year-old females make a fool out of him! 

Claudia's scarlet lips parted slowly, and then her raspberry-pink tongue 
shot out to flick at the little pearl-like droplet of seminal fluid 
glistening in the thick cockhead's glans opening. A shiver of ecstasy danced 
along her nerve-endings as she tasted the pungent pre-cum, so subtly 
different from the female secretions she'd been savoring before Mitch 
interrupted her, and then she ovalled her lush lips and encircled the hotly 
pulsing head. 

He's coming around, just like I hoped he would! she gloated as she drew the 
thick flesh pole another inch into her mouth. For the first time in ages 
he's asserting himself, acting like a real male! 

Claudia liked aggressive, domineering men, as she assumed all women did; 
therefore one of her considerations in planning a way to save the Marstens' 
marriage was to change Mitch's self-image as well as educate Vicki. Of 
course, this also afforded the redhead herself with a more exciting 
experience! 

Rolling her eyes upward, she stared at the thick length of purple-veined 
cock slipping into her mouth. Despite her wide experience with oral sex, she 
felt a quiver of trepidation as she assessed the enormous size of the man's 
penis. It was truly gigantic . . . surely it would tear her mouth apart! 

"Suck me!" groaned the frenzied man impatiently. "C'mon, put it all the way 
in that cunt-licking mouth of yours! Now!" 

Lustful anticipation, intensified by Mitch's rough tone and her twinges of 
fear, seared through Claudia's bloodstream. For the moment, she'd almost 
forgotten the blonde who lay beneath her, but then a maddening nibble along 
her tumescent cuntal lips reminded her that not only was she about to suck 
the largest penis she could ever remember seeing, she was also being 
tongue-fucked by the woman below! 

"Yes, Dale, honey!" she mewled around the rubbery bluntness of Mitch's 
cock-head which was crushed against her lips. "That's it! Kiss my pussy 
while I eat this big, beautiful prick!" 

Suddenly both girls gasped aloud as they felt talon-like fingers abruptly 
tearing their bodies apart. Claudia's mouth hung open in shocked deprivation 
as the heated male thickness was wrenched from her greedy lips and Dale 
looked equally disoriented as her friends palpitating pussy disappeared. 
What in God's name was Mitch up to now? 

A loud growl from the lust-crazed husband provided the answer. "I wanna suck 
Dale while I cum in your mouth!" he demanded, delighting in his arrogant 
masculinity. "Kneel down with your pussy over my face, Blondie! You can 
watch your girlfriend suck me off while I show that hungry little cunt of 
yours a trick or two!" 

Dale's blue eyes widened in excitement as she saw the unfaithful husband 
throw his hard-muscled athlete's body flat on his back on the sandy 
riverbank. Her cock-hungry red-haired friend bent down without batting an 
eyelash, and once again took the bulb-shaped head of his lust-swollen penis 
in her mouth. Her tongue teased round and round the thickened foreskin until 
he groaned under his breath. 

"Come on, Dale!" Claudia's words were almost inaudible as she continued to 
tease at Mitch's iron-hard erection. "Do as he says!" 

Feeling rather awkward but wanting desperately to be part of the lewd 
triangle, the nineteen year-old blonde rolled toward Mitch and then knelt 
above his head, facing Claudia so that her firm white thighs were pressing 
on either side of his ears and her hands were tangled in the fair hairs on 
his chest to keep her balance. She and Claudia exchanged a look of mutual 
ecstasy, and then with one hand she wantonly pulled her glistening pink 
pussy lips apart just above Mitch's appreciative eyes. 

"Uuurrgghhhh," he moaned, immediately burying his mouth in the succulent 
folds of coral cuntal flesh. 

Since he'd remained faithful to his steady girlfriend all through high 
school, and until today had never cheated on her after their marriage, Mitch 
had only enjoyed oral sex a few times in his life. These occasions, which 
all took place at the rather cheerless whorehouses he'd visited now and then 
while in the army, had provided physical release but not much real erotic 
excitement. Now, with Dale and Claudia, his wildest dreams were coming true 
in a way he would never have believed possible. 

"Goddamn!" he groaned, his speech garbled as he relished the mysterious 
aroma and taste of the young blonde's pink-rimmed vaginal mouth. "Too 
fucking much!" 

For a brief instant he wrenched his face from the churning cauldron of 
Dale's pussy to stare in lurid fascination at Claudia's photogenic face 
twisting into a contorted mask of perversity as she slaved over his 
rock-hard thickness. She'd taken fully half of his lust-bloated cock inside 
her mouth now, and the sight of her lips straining around his rigid member 
like a red rubber band increased the delirious swirling sensations afforded 
by her skillfully circling tongue and pressuring lips. As she strove to take 
still more of his upthrusting flesh weapon into her bulging cheeks, he 
noticed drops of perspiration forming on her satin-smooth forehead and 
little muscles working frantically in her swan-like throat. If only Vicki 
treated me like this, Mitch's mind cried in momentary remorse as Claudia 
began pulling her mouth away from his fire-filled penis with a slow, 
excruciating suction. A guy needs action like this to make life worth 
living, but I really hate to have to go behind her back for satisfaction. 

Rolling his eyes upward, the adulterous husband stared in fascination at 
Dale Varden's enthusiastic face through the cleavage between her dancing 
white breasts, then refocused on the sweet-tasting cunt just before his 
eyes. He ran his tongue over the succulent pink flesh of her clasping 
vaginal slit, then abruptly withdrew to titillate the bright berry of her 
desire-tautened clitoris. From .the expression on her passion-flushed face, 
he couldn't tell whether he was exciting her or torturing her, but then he 
felt her undulating above him, forcing his lips and tongue exactly where 
they would stimulate her most. 

As he continued to suction her defenseless little pussy mouth, Mitch slid 
his hungry tongue deep into her crazily clutching channel, then quickly 
withdrew to swirl once more over her fluted pink cuntal lips before 
thrusting in again deeper than ever. Dale's cream-white thighs began 
quivering helplessly on either side of his head, as though she'd lost all 
control over her reactions, and a guttural crooning hum droned from her 
half-open lips. Every inch of flesh in her butter-smooth vaginal sheath 
molded against his invading tongue, giving Mitch the impression she was 
trying to clasp his tongue and pull it all the way down to her womb, and he 
was astounded to find that a woman could have so much control over her 
genital muscles. 

"Oohhh . . . aaaahhhh . . . ooohhhhhh Dale's breathless chant grew shriller, 
more intense, as the man's tongue delved ever deeper into her climax-craving 
pussy. "Ooohhhh . . . yeessssss .. . oohhhhhh ..." 

The petite blonde's erotic whimpers mingled with Mitch's incoherent grunts 
and wetly sluicing sounds Claudia made as she madly tried to draw the 
married man's iron-hard stiffness all the way down her throat without 
gagging. In combination, their three lust-hoarsened love-cries blended into 
a weird chorus which drowned out the normal mid-morning sounds of a forest 
and frightened away all fish in the vicinity. 

As far as Mitch Marsten was concerned, however, he'd have willingly 
relinquished the chance to catch fish for the rest of his lifetime in 
exchange for the sexual revelation the two young women were giving him. He'd 
always been ahead of them in school by two years, and consequently had 
thought of them first as troublesome neighborhood pests who cried when he 
threw earth-worms or rotten apples at them, then in high school as Vicki's 
rather silly, boy-crazy friends. Only since coming back from the army last 
spring, and especially since working for Vince Varden in his TV repair shop, 
had he noticed the petite blonde had become a much more sophisticated woman 
than his own wife. As for Claudia Champlin, he'd scarcely thought of her at 
all until this weekend, certainly not in the sense of being able to suck a 
man's cock in a way that drove him out of his mind with ecstasy - and while 
her mouth was still wet with another woman's cuntal juices! 

Christ, I love Vicki - of course I do, he thought distractedly. But why the 
hell didn't she learn to treat a man like her girlfriends can? It doesn't 
make any sense! 

Suddenly Dale, overcome by the wanton perversity of their oral triangle, 
threw her body down upon Mitch's broad chest. All rational thought vanished 
at once from the young man's mind as he felt her melon-shaped breasts 
pressing warm and pliant against his bare chest, and then he stiffened and 
jerked in shocked delight as he realized that there were now two female 
tongues swirling around his hugely swollen member. 

"Aaauuugghhhhh!" he groaned in rapture, digging his own tongue deeper into 
the squirming moistness of Dale's vagina, which still pressed tightly 
against his mouth. 

Vince Varden had told him that Dale had done this at a party in LA, but 
Mitch had been certain his boss was a bit drunk and exaggerating when he'd 
claimed that his wife had sucked him off together with another girl. Well, 
now he knew it was true, and he also knew it was one of the most fantastic 
sensations he's ever felt in his life! The dual stimulation of his 
lust-throbbing cock, plus the marshmallow softness of Dale's dancing breasts 
and the sweet pungent odor wafting from her loins made his blood-engorged 
testicles churn with impatient sperm. 

"You suck his cock," he heard Claudia suggest in a feline purr. "And I'll 
suck his nice soft balls." 

"Mmmmmmmmm," Dale replied. 

The crouching blonde's mouth slid willingly over his fire-filled member - 
just as his own mouth was hungrily devouring her desire-drenched cuntal slit 
- and then great swirls of heat began building deep inside him as the 
redhead's skillful mouth started nibbling at his ultra-sensitive testicles. 

The three intertwined figures bucked and slaved over one another on the 
riverbank as overpowering currents of depraved sensual electricity turned 
their respective bodies into an insanely writhing mass of white-hot flesh. 
Each could sense their own climax building inside their pleasure-tortured 
loins, and they strove for this end as though possessed by demons. As the 
obscene tempo of their out-of-control passion increased, all three felt 
themselves spinning helplessly in a boiling whirlpool of sheer naked lust. 

The girl's eyes met as their heads bobbed in greedy feast over their 
friend's husband's proudly swollen penis, and they raised their 
saliva-slickened faces toward each other for a tender kiss. Their plan had 
worked out better than their most optimistic dreams had supposed it might! 

Mitch, blissfully unaware of any plot, groaned in rapture as the two young 
women resumed their avid sucking. Incoherent mutterings spit from between 
his tension-clenched teeth as Dale swiped her tongue in a rapid staccato 
motion around the dilating glans of his ready-to-explode penis, and an 
inhuman howl burst from his chest as Claudia simultaneously teased at his 
blood-bloated testicles. 

"Oh, Christ!" he swore, twisting his six-foot frame in an agony of arousal. 
"Yeah! Oh, yeah, I'm cumming! CUUUMMMIIINNNNGGGG!" 

At once a searing flood of thick hot semen spurted out into Dale's madly 
sucking mouth and cascaded down her throat. Caught unaware, she choked and 
gasped as she labored insanely to swallow every last drop of his white-hot 
cum, but though her cheeks ballooned out grotesquely with her effort, thin 
rivulets nevertheless trickled down over her chin. Claudia, her eyes 
glinting with wanton delight, hungrily licked the bittersweet trails of 
live-giving seed from her girlfriend's flushed and perspiring face. At the 
same time, she ground her fire-filled pussy against Mitch's strong-muscled 
leg in desperate search for her own climax. 

As the long pent-up semen rushed down from his exploding balls, spasm after 
spasm of ecstasy shuddered through the groaning man's entire body. His face 
was pressed so tightly against Dale's palpitating pussy that he could see or 
smell nothing save moist female cunt, and his tongue involuntarily dug 
frantically into her clasping vagina as his climax rocketed through his 
loins. 

"Aaaaaggghhhhh!" Dale sobbed suddenly as her body began to stiffen. 

The next instant, the petite blonde's torso arched high up over the 
pleasure-tortured man beneath her, her cum-sticky mouth wrenching away from 
his still-spurting penis as she wailed out her own joyous fulfillment. Then 
she collapsed back on Mitch's hairy blond chest, wailing and spasming in a 
mindless delirium of pleasure, and Claudia's lips replaced hers on his 
cum-pulsing cock. 

The redhead sucked with all her might on the ejaculating thickness to drain 
the last driblets of pungent male fluid, savoring it like some fine vintage 
wine. The sheer lewdness of laving up and swallowing his sperm after another 
woman had already done so suddenly pushed her own straining body over the 
brink into the deepest chasm of pure bliss she'd ever experienced, and a 
warm pool of feminine fluids washed onto Mitch's leg as she ground her 
vagina faster and faster against him. 

"Cccuuummmmmming!" Claudia's cry was shrill, inhumanly eerie as it echoed 
through the river valley. "I'm cccuuuummmmmiinnnggggg!" 

For what seemed an eternity the three orgasming bodies shuddered and 
thrashed in an ecstasy of unutterable bliss, mewling and moaning as they 
gloated in their wild pleasure. At last Dale rolled off Mitch's twitching 
loins and collapsed in exhaustion on the grass beside him, and Claudia 
dropped like a lead weight between his legs, her head still nuzzling his 
sperm-sticky genitals. For several minutes they all lay absolutely still, 
savoring the lingering traces of their powerful orgasms and listening to the 
sound of their labored breathing. There was no other sound in the valley 
save the gurgling of the river, the birds and insects having fallen silent 
beneath the unseasonably warm September sun. 

"Mmmmmhhhhhmmmmm," Claudia murmured at last. "Wow, Mitch! That was 
fantastic! I feel so gooodddd ..." 

"Me, too!" Dale breathed. "What a super morning!" 

Mitch made no reply, for his mood of satiated contentment had begun to fade 
with the sound of their words. Sure, it had felt great - it had been the 
most erotic experience he'd ever enjoyed - but now he was plagued by guilt 
as he realized the enormity of the sin he had committed. If his wife ever 
found out he'd acted like an "abnormal pervert" with her two best friends, 
she'd be so hurt that it would surely be the end of their marriage. Worse, 
she might just go off the deep end, and he'd have to live with that burden 
of guilt over his shoulders for the rest of his life. 

A moment's bliss. . . an erotic fantasy come true, he thought remorsefully 
as he pulled his body away from the two beautiful naked women. But in the 
long run it's not worth it, and I can't ever let it happen again. 

Dale and Claudia stared at him dazedly as he struggled to his feet and made 
his way to the river, where he carefully washed his penis to remove all 
evidence of unfaithfulness. His heart was too heavy to notice their 
inquiring glances, for he felt sure Vicki could read his guilt in his eyes, 
and in any case he'd never been much good at lying. 

And now I'll be living a lie, he thought somewhat bitterly as he put back on 
his swimming trunks. Christ Almighty! What a mess I've made of everything! 

"What's your hurry, big boy?" Claudia drawled in a teasing, languid voice. 
"Why not take it easy for awhile?" 

"There's other kinds of fun we could have," Dale's eyes sparkled as she 
spoke. "And there's plenty of time, Mitch." 

Marsten turned to regard the two naked females with a pensive, peculiar 
gaze. He didn't feel angry toward them - not in the least - but he also knew 
it was impossible for him to share their lighthearted, carefree sexuality. 
Perhaps they didn't care about Vince and Gregory, but he felt a deep sense 
of responsibility toward his sensitive young wife. 

The girls were smiling at him expectantly, their faces still flushed from 
exertion and glistening here and there with drying trickles of his thick 
white cum. Suddenly it seemed too much of an effort to try to explain how he 
felt to them, so Mitch merely bent over and gathered up his fishing gear. 

"I'm gonna walk back," he stated briefly. "I need some time to cool off." 

"Don't be silly!" Claudia objected. "It's miles back to the cabin! We've got 
the car." 

Without answering, the tall, fair-haired man set off up the path toward the 
road. The last thing he wanted to do was pull up together with Dale and 
Claudia and let Vicki know they'd spent the morning together. Things were 
going to be sticky enough without that! 

Chapter SEVEN 

At the same moment when Claudia and Dale were making their way down the 
riverbank to seduce the unsuspecting man who stood fishing below them, Vicki 
Marsten was succumbing to temptation. 

Drinking, particularly drinking alone and in the morning, had never been one 
of the young wife's vices, but her plaguing thoughts had plunged her into 
such a dark mood of despair that she decided she must do something. She'd 
thought it would be the best thing to stay by herself this morning, but in 
fact the silence of the empty cabin made her feel decidedly uneasy, and when 
she tried wandering around the gardens she only felt more lonely than ever. 

"I should have gone swimming with the girls, I guess," she muttered to 
herself as she dejectedly returned to the cottage, heated up some bitter 
coffee, and added a liberal splash of the brandy they'd been drinking the 
night before. "At least then I wouldn't feel like I'm going crazy. People 
always say it's better to talk things out, and they must be right. Maybe my 
problem is that I keep too much bottled up inside me." 

The pretty brunette gulped at the coffee, wrinkling her nose at the taste of 
the alcohol but hoping against hope that the burning liquid would raise her 
flagging spirits. 

"Anyway, what's the use of knowing what the problem is?" she added bitterly, 
clenching her coffee cup in desperation. "What I need to know is what to do 
about my life .. . about Mitch . .. about myself..." 

Suddenly she realized that she was talking aloud and immediately fell 
silent. Only crazy people talked to themselves, people like Dale's senile 
grandfather, and Vicki was not feeling quite miserable enough to place 
herself in such a category. 

Although the brandy relaxed her, it didn't chase away the unwanted memories 
of last night's lurid events. Sighing, Vicki poured herself another cup of 
coffee and filled it almost to the brim with cognac, and though the second 
drink tasted even worse than the first, she drank it down in the same spirit 
one swallows medicine. Her troubled eyes roved around the kitchen in search 
of something to do with herself to pass the time, but the other girls had 
already cleaned up and made a potato salad for lunch to serve with the fish 
the men would catch. Perhaps there was something to read in the living room 
.. . 

Carrying her coffee cup, Vicki wandered out into the main room and inspected 
the few books and magazines on the wooden shelf. Nothing really struck her 
fancy: last week's Newsweek, a few old National Geographies, some hunting, 
fishing, and boating periodicals, September's Playboy, some detective 
novels, and a book called, Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex. 
This last paperback looked interesting, but the innocent young wife was 
afraid someone would come in and find her reading it. She glanced over her 
shoulder, decided that it would be safe to just leaf through it, and was 
reaching to pull it down from the shelf when there was a scraping of tires 
on the gravel driveway. 

Hastily replacing Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Sex and grabbing 
Newsweek, she plonked down on the couch. It was Gregory's big car, she 
ascertained by craning her neck, but why were the men back from fishing so 
early? 

When Vince and Gregory walked into the room without her husband, Vicki's 
first reaction was relief. Then, as she remembered the obscene, animalistic 
way these two men had acted last night in bed, she blushed in spite of 
herself and began to feel uncomfortable. 

"Hi," she tried to keep her voice casual. "Wh-where's Mitch?" 

"Oh, he's a real fishing nut," Vince laughed loudly. "But me and Gregory 
wanted to go see someone he knows about this nightclub idea of mine." 

"Nightclub..." 

"Yeah, remember when I told you about it that night we went out to dinner. 
Like my brother's. Big money!" 

"Oh, yes ... of course," Vicki murmured. 

Would it be a place like those terrible pictures he'd bought back from Los 
Angeles? A place where girls in lewd costumes served drinks, a place with 
topless dancers? Where they showed dirty movies? 

Gregory picked up her coffee cup and tasted it, and Vicki blushed more 
furiously than ever as he grinned "Drinking at this time of the morning! 
That's a pretty damn good idea, if I do say so. How 'bout it, Vince?" 

"Great! But something long and cold." 

Vicki didn't want another drink; she was already regretting the brandy, for 
it seemed to make her more nervous than ever, at least since the men had 
entered the room. It made her uneasy to not be in good control of what she 
said and did around them, and to be uncertain whether she was just imagining 
that strange predatory look in their eyes. Yet when Gregory placed a tall 
whiskey sour in front of her, she didn't want to seem rude by refusing. 

I'll sip it very slowly, she told herself. And then I'll make up some excuse 
to get away from them. 

"Where're the other gals?" Vince asked, and Vicki stole a look at him under 
her long lashes to ascertain in his face reflected the strange tone in his 
voice. It was nothing she could put her finger on, but instinct told her 
that something was going on. 

"They went swimming." Vicki glanced from one man to the other as they seated 
themselves on either side of her on the leather couch, in her nervousness 
taking a large gulp of the drink she'd neither wanted nor needed. 

"Swimming, eh?" Gregory Payne's handsome face peered down at the young 
brunette, and she flushed as she recalled the indecent way he'd held her 
when they'd danced together last night. She hoped he wasn't remembering the 
same thing, but there were lewd glimmers in his piercing gray eyes which 
told her that he was. "I wouldn't have thought they'd have been up before 
noon, after the way they performed last night!" 

Vince guffawed loudly and a crude smile spread over his rugged features. 
"I'll say!" he agreed as he inched closer to Vicki and jabbed her in the 
ribs. "Did we keep you up last night with out racket?" 

Oh God, they know I watched them! the guilt-tormented wife's mind wailed. 
She wished that she could vanish from the face of the earth and never again 
have to deal with the Varden's, or Claudia and her dreadful lover, or even 
her husband, Mitch. Suddenly the burden of her problems was too much for the 
nineteen year old newly wed. 

Draining her glass, she set it shakily on the coffee table and stared 
fixedly at it to avoid the eyes of the men on either side of her. If they 
looked into her own eyes, they might guess that their talk about last 
night's sexual debauchery was reviving the strange, unwanted fluttering 
sensation deep inside her belly and up between her long, bare legs. 

The men exchanged a conspiratorial wink over Vicki's slumped dark head, and 
then Gregory rose to pour fresh whiskey sours. 

"Yeah, you look sorta bushed, Vicki," he remarked as he handed her the drink 
and sat back down so close that their naked thighs were touching. "I guess 
we were making a lot of noise. You should have come on over!" 

The timid wife's pretty face was beet-red, and her voice shook weakly as she 
replied, "N-no, I slept fine." 

Maybe I can pretend to be sick, say I have to go lie down, her brain 
whirled. I've got to get away from them before I give myself away! And why 
in God's name are they sitting so close to me like this? 

Pressing her thighs together to quell the forbidden tingling had only 
intensified the indecent feelings inside her vagina, and to the embarrassed 
wife's dismay the pressure of Gregory's muscular leg was contributing to her 
unbidden excitement. The men wore only swimming trunks, and their 
near-naked, perspiration glistening loins gave off a distinct masculine odor 
which disturbed Vicki still more. Just to have something to do with her 
hands and something to look at, she sipped at her fresh drink. 

Suddenly a wave of dizziness swept through her, causing her hand to shake as 
she set the glass back down on the table. She was drunk! 

The realization hit her in the pit of her stomach, and a terrible, unwanted 
thought flashed through her brain: I'm not responsible for anything that 
happens now - I'm not in control of myself "Well, well," Gregory drawled in 
her ear, startling her so badly that she turned to stare at him. His 
steel-grey eyes still had that strange, meaningful look she'd noticed at 
first, and she hastily dropped her eyes back down to her lap. "So we're all 
alone here ... just the three of us. Cozy, huh?" 

"You bet!" Vince chortled. "You bet your life it's cozy!" 

In Vicki's intoxicated mind, the leering males flanking her on either side 
changed into huge black birds of prey who menaced her with hooked talons and 
knife-sharp beaks. She was some small, helpless animal trapped between them, 
unable to escape and vulnerable to their every horrible desire. 

The hallucination faded in the uneasy silence that followed the men's words, 
and as Vicki's vision refocused she found that she was staring directly at 
Gregory Payne's over-tight swimming trunks. For a shocked second her gaze 
remained riveted to the thick bulge protruding from the thin nylon fabric, 
and though of course she had seen his penis last night, she still was 
astonished at its huge girth. How had poor Claudia ever taken that 
tree-trunk size cock up inside her without being injured in some shameful 
way? 

Tearing her glance away, she realized to her chagrin that the advertising 
executive's eyes were regarding her in a knowing way. He'd seen her staring 
at his penis! Vicki blushed again, but despite her embarrassment the strange 
excitement inside her had grown to a surging current which threatened to 
throw her into a state of depravity like that of last night. 

Calm down! Get hold of yourself! Vicki cautioned herself. Think about 
something else . . . change the subject to something neutral. 

"How ... how was the fishing?" she asked in a brittle, squeaky voice which 
sounded artificial even in her own ears. "Catch much? Maybe I could start 
getting it ready for lunch so it'll be ... " 

"Sit down and relax, honey," Gregory patted her knee, sending prickles of 
sensation chasing along the nervous wife's spine. "It's too early to think 
about lunch, and besides, Mitch is bringing all the fish 'cause we left them 
in the cooler." 

To Vicki's acute discomfort, the strange man's hand remained on her leg. She 
wished with all her heart that she'd worn slacks today instead of this 
thigh-high denim mini-skirt, but it was too late to do anything about it 
now. What she had to worry about was somehow getting away from these men 
before something dreadful happened, before they realized how her traitorous 
body was reacting to their presence. It was obvious that both Vince and 
Gregory had been drinking all morning - she could smell the beer on their 
breaths when they first came in -and that ominous bulge in Greg's trunks 
could only mean one thing. After the scandalous way she'd danced with him 
last night, he couldn't be blamed for thinking she was a slut who'd go to 
bed with anyone, and after what she'd watched them do last night, she didn't 
think that the presence of Vince would stop him. 

Although she was acutely aware of the danger of her situation, Vicki didn't 
move. I'll just finish my drink and think of some logical excuse to run off, 
she rationalized. After all, we're Greg's guests here, and Vince is my 
husband's boss. I don't want to act rude. 

Without letting herself think what she was doing, the intoxicated brunette 
took advantage of leaning toward the table for her glass to glance at 
Vince's swimming trunks. As she'd feared, they were tented out in the same 
way as Greg's, the blue-striped fabric stretched out of shape by the huge 
thickness pushing against it. What was even more shocking - and more 
fascinating - was that the straining leg band of the garment had lifted 
along the inner thigh to reveal a glimpse of the man's lust-engorged 
testicles! I wonder what they feel like? she wondered, realizing that she'd 
never really looked at her husband's penis in detail and had never touched 
the sparsely-haired sac of his balls. Mitch's long cock-shaft had always 
filled her with fear and repugnance, and she was astonished to find that her 
reaction to these strange mens' genitals was one of lascivious curiosity. 

Suddenly she pulled her eyes away and took a guilty gulp of her whiskey 
sour. How long had she been staring in that shameful way? What in God's name 
was wrong with her these past two days, anyway? 

Out of the corner of her alcohol-glazed blue eyes, she hurriedly checked to 
brazen action had been detected and found that both men were leering down 
inside her loose-fitting peasant blouse. The drawstrings had somehow come 
half undone, and Vicki realized with horror that Vince and Gregory had an 
unobstructed view of her breasts in their transparent white nylon brassiere. 

Trying not to panic, Mitch's wife started to tie the drawstring on her 
blouse more securely. She didn't raise her eyes to the two males, but she 
was vividly aware of their pressing bodies and the accelerated tempo of 
their breathing. It was no real surprise when Vince's rough fingers tore her 
hand away from the neckline of her shirt .. . deep inside, she'd known all 
along that something like this was bound to happen. 

"Don't bother with that," Varden commanded curtly. "We like looking at your 
tits, don't we, Greg!?" 

"We sure do!" Payne reached into the neck of her blouse to grab her right 
breast, and tweaked it so hard that the trembling wife gasped aloud. 

"Please!" she pleaded. "Don't do that!" 

Her voice carried little conviction; even Vicki could hear how weak and 
unsure it sounded, and the men paid absolutely no attention to it. While she 
sat there frozen, Greg's broad palm massaged first one breast, then the 
other, pinching the little nipples till they grew hard as diamond chips and 
sent arrows of forbidden arousal shooting out to every nerve-ending in her 
alcohol-sensitized flesh. Though she knew it was terribly wicked of her, 
Vicki could not fight the knowledge that his massaging hands felt wonderful. 
A thousand needles of pleasure-pain pricked at her nipples, flaming desire 
inside her vagina into full force, and though the innocent newlywed feebly 
tried to reach toward her assaulted breasts and push the hand away, she was 
actually loathe for the fearfully thrilling feeling to end. 

"Why not?" Payne leered. He was kneading both of the brunette's straining 
breasts now, and somehow he'd managed to work his hands underneath her loose 
blouse so that her gauzeous white brassiere was her only protection against 
his marauding fingers. "You like it, don't you? Just like you liked the way 
we danced last night!" 

Vince laughed loudly, the vulgar note in his voice increasing Vicki's acute 
shame. She was vaguely aware that he was swaggering over to the bar and 
refilling their three glasses, at the same time switching on the stereo 
which stood nearby. 

"C'mon, you guys!" her friend's husband called out. "Dance some more! Put on 
a show!" 

"No!" Vicki wailed as Greg Payne's strong hands dragged her to her feet. 
"Let go of me! Stop it!" 

The guilt-stricken wife's pleas were to no avail. Loud rock music half 
drowned out her voice, and the Kansas City advertising executive pulled her 
close to his virtually naked body so that her traitorously tingling vagina 
was crushed against the prominent bulge in his nylon swim trunks. As he 
slowly guided her around the room in tempo to the sensuous beat of the 
top-volume album, his hands continued their tantalizing pinching and 
kneading of her fire-filled breasts. 

"No ... no ... no ... " she whimpered over and over in a shrill, breathless 
voice, but Payne paid no attention to her. 

The realization that she was helpless to escape from his vise-like hold hit 
the frightened brunette like a well-aimed blow in the belly, and she 
shivered although it was overly warm in the sun-drenched cabin. This 
unscrupulous stranger was going to take advantage of her in whatever 
shameful way he wished; she couldn't prevent him from doing so, not only 
because he was physically far superior to her, but because she herself 
wanted him to ravish her! 

Vince Varden materialized beside the dancing couple, a full drink in his 
hand. He held it toward Vicki's trembling, tension-whitened lips with a lewd 
smirk, pressing his other hand against her mini-skirted buttocks as he did 
so. As Vicki recoiled away from his crudely familiar touch she crushed up 
against the rock-hard protuberance in the other man's swimming 152 trunks 
and gasped in anguish. 

"No Vince, please!" she begged. "I don't want any more to drink ... I don't 
want to dance . .. please tell him to let go of me!" 

The young wife had appealed to Varden in the vague hope that her close 
friendship with his wife might put some sense into his head, but one good 
look at his lust-blazing eyes and fully erect cock told her how mistaken 
she'd been. I'm lost! she thought as she swallowed the whiskey he poured 
down her throat. And the worst of it all is that some sick part of my mind 
wants it to happen! Oh God! Why did I let myself get so drunk? 

Gregory's suggestive grinding motions against her pelvis grew wilder as her 
best friend's husband commenced a vigorous massage of the whimpering wife's 
well-rounded buttocks. Unchecked sensations ran rampant through the 
intoxicated brunette's naive young body at the dual stimulation, and she 
felt a shameful dampness on her panty crotch band as involuntary feminine 
lubricating fluids seeped from her pulsating vagina. Squeezing her eyes 
shut, the last remaining shreds of her willpower struggled against the 
forbidden excitement, but the knowledgeable fingers teasing at her buttocks 
and breasts combined with the two rigid cock-shafts pressing against her 
from both sides were too much for her alcohol-crazed mind. 

"Ooooohh," she moaned, and though she was horrified to hear her own voice 
crying out in submissive desire, she couldn't repress another cry. 
"Uuuummmhhh..." 

This can't be happening! her deranged mind wailed. For months and months I 
couldn't feel anything for my own husband even though I love him more than 
anyone else in the world - and then for no reason at all I started feeling 
all these weird things for Greg yesterday. And now .. . now I'm being pawed 
at by two men at once, men I don't even like! Vince is crude and vulgar, and 
as for Gregory, I don't know him at all! And the way they treat their women 
- why after seeing that, I should have packed my bags and gotten out of here 
straight away! I just don't understand how I can be allowing such a sinful 
thing to happen! 

Whether or not she understood her own reactions, Vicki was intoxicated with 
lust at being fondled so ardently by two men at once. For the first time she 
had fallen victim to the delirious feelings of danger mixed with ecstasy 
which are accomplices of all forbidden pleasure, and frightened as she was 
by her body's takeover of her mind, she no longer had any control over 
herself. 

"Shit, I'd never have guessed you were built like a bomb!" Vince's rough 
hands had suddenly yanked the confused brunette's loose-fitting peasant 
blouse over her head so that she stood whimpering in her skimpy denim skirt 
and white brassiere in the middle of the big room. "You always ran around 
looking modest as a nun. Well, now I know you've got all the right 
qualifications so why don't you try some topless dancing. Maybe you can 
perform at my club when I get it set up!" 

The man's raucous laugh drowned out Vicki's shocked cry of protest, and 
before she knew what was happening he was unsnapping her brassiere and 
tossing it away onto the floor. Pulling away from Gregory's embrace with 
every ounce of strength left in her alcohol-stimulated loins, she made a 
futile effort to hide the snow-white mounds of her breasts with her hands. 

"No!" she gasped helplessly. "No, please! Give me back my blouse! Please!" 

"Don't gimme that bullshit!" Vince's voice grated harshly in her ears. "I've 
been wanting to get my hands on your stuck-up little body for a hell of a 
long time, and I ain't gonna stop now. Besides, you wanna get fucked as bad 
as we wanna fuck you!" 

"Nooo!" Vicki's voice rose in a shrill wail despite the lewd sensations of 
unwanted desire which coursed through her half-naked body at his use of the 
obscene word "fuck." 

"My husband ..." 

"What about your husband?" Gregory snorted. "He's miles away from here with 
his fishing pole sunk in the goddamn river. You can do whatever you want, 
and he'll never know unless you tell him!" 

"Yeah," Vince taunted. "Come down off your high horse, baby! We saw you 
staring at our pricks - and now you're gonna find out how to have a whole 
lot of fun being real naughty." His big hand shot out and pulled her short 
skirt up over her panty-protected buttocks. 

"Oh God, Vince!" Vicki desperately tried to stifle the whirling vortex of 
pleasure which was steadily building in the depths of her churning belly. 
"Don't touch me down there!" 

"Why not, baby? You're all wet and ready for us!" 

Hot tears of shame pricked at the corners of the temptation-tortured young 
wife's eyelids. It was true - the crotch band of her panties was damp with 
the shameful evidence of her arousal, and there was nothing she could say 
that would make her look less like a slut. Suddenly a wave of self-disgust 
washed over her, and she jerked away from the men, making a frantic grab at 
her discarded blouse. 

"No!" she shrieked, her voice half-hysterical as her lifelong moral values 
put up a last stand against her long-frustrated body's sensual needs. "You 
can't talk to me like that! You can't touch me - it's RAPE!" 

"I'll talk to you any way I damn well please!" Vince bellowed as he lunged 
toward her and pushed her back against Gregory. 

The breath was almost knocked from Vicki's lungs by the vicious shove, and 
she collapsed limply against the executive's chest as her futilely retrieved 
blouse slipped from her fingers. Once again, her burning breasts were 
smashed against his hard-muscled naked torso, and his stone-hard weapon was 
throbbing against the flat plane of her pliant belly, and Vince had moved in 
behind her and inserted his hand up between her helplessly trembling thighs. 

His lewdly positioned hand played for a few teasing seconds on the sensitive 
flesh of Vicki's upper legs then insinuated itself under the elastic legband 
of her bikini panties. Despite the humiliated young woman's frantic wriggles 
and soft sobs of protest, it slithered forward from her puckering anal 
opening till it reached the shameful moistness of her desire-drenched pussy 
lips. 

"Oooooh!" she yelped in unwanted delight as Vince's middle finger suddenly 
tweaked at the nerve-filled bud of her clitoris. "Aaaahhh!" 

The tiny button immediately rose in a palpitating erection and the 
inexperienced brunette felt her willpower break down completely as the 
smoldering tension inside her burst into wild, white-hot flames. It no 
longer mattered that the man whose finger was stroking and teasing up inside 
her vagina had, less than six months ago, sat in the Cedarburg Methodist 
Church and watched her stand at the altar and pledge herself to another man. 
Nor did she care that the male whose hands were roughly stimulating her 
nipples into miniature erection was a total stranger who only wanted to use 
her body for his own obscene pleasure. The only thing that counted was the 
aching void in her belly which could only be filled by a pulsating length of 
thickly heated cock-flesh. 

Suddenly a string of urgent moans broke from the unfaithful wife's lips, 
surprising her as much as the two men who caressed her traitorous body. 
"Yyyeeesss . . . oooohhh . . . yyyeesss ... do it... do whatever you want to 
me ... yesss ... I want you to ... ooohhh ..." 

As if her wanton whisper had been a signal, the two males began tugging off 
the brunette's remaining clothing. She stood speechless, unable to react as 
shameful shivers of desire flickered along her impatient body. And even when 
Vince tore off her white nylon panties so roughly that the fragile fabric 
was ripped in half, she made no protest. 

Varden let out a low wolf whistle as the two men stepped back and stared at 
their friend's wife as though she'd been a Playboy centerfold. 

"What a body!" he .leered. His eyes roved hungrily up from the curvaceous 
magnificence of her firmly rounded white buttocks, past the trim indentation 
of her waist, over her sun-bronzed torso and the contrasting snow-white 
mounds of her proud breasts. "Out of this world! A real sex-pot!" 

"Built for loving ..." Gregory Payne agreed. "Look at that tight little 
ass!" 

Although Vicki knew she ought to feel humiliated by the way they were 
discussing her body like a slave's on display in the market place, she 
couldn't repress a thrill of pride at their admiration. She'd always known 
she had a good figure - less buxom than Vince's wife, more softly rounded 
than Claudia's - but no one had ever told her so in such an extravagant 
passionate way. Mitch often told her she looked cute, pretty, beautiful... 
but of course she'd never stood naked before her husband like this, and he 
knew she didn't like him to use words like "sex-pot" and "ass." 

"Get down," Vince's harsh voice interrupted the hopelessly aroused wife's 
distracted thoughts. "Get down on the floor! On your back!" 

Vicki stared at him in bewilderment, a tremor of fear blending with her wild 
desire as she saw lecherous vengeance spread over his broad face. There was 
something in his expression which gave her the uncomfortable feeling of 
being nothing more than part of the plunder from some war, and the way he 
was ordering her around was also most unnerving. 

When the bewildered naked brunette didn't comply right away, the 
lust-enraged Varden grabbed her pliant breasts as though they were 
motorcycle handles and tugged her to her knees. 

"Listen you silly bitch," he muttered into her wide-eyed face. "We're gonna 
fuck you now, and it's gonna be a lot of fun for all of us - as long as you 
do just like we tell you!" 

The forbidden word echoed through Vicki's passion-clouded brain to the tempo 
of her thudding heart, and a final wave of shame seared through her 
bloodstream. How despicably perverted she must look kneeling naked on the 
soft rug in front of them, her breasts swollen with her forbidden desire and 
her sparse brown pussy hairs damp from the pre-cum fluids which seeped from 
her burning vagina. Even her hair, which normally fell in a smooth, 
school-girlish page boy over her shoulders, was tousled like some cheap 
tramp's. 

Oddly enough, the thought of her shocking appearance stimulated the aroused 
nineteen-year old instead of inciting her to fight her way out of this 
perverted dual seduction. Prurient quivers of longing teased along her 
sensitized nerve-endings, and all thoughts of her husband vanished as she 
felt herself hurtling down into a dark abyss of mindless animal passion. 

"Lie down!" Vince growled again. 

This time Vicki sank obediently to the floor, for something about her girl 
friend's husband frightened her. There was a bestial brutality in his face, 
and instinct told her it was wiser not to cross him. Besides, she could not 
deny the strange masochistic thrill that was stealing through her blood ... 
the unwanted longing to be used, taken forcefully, totally humiliated by 
these two men. 

Vince stared hungrily down at the subserviently prone woman, his eyes 
lingering on the thinly curling tendrils of chestnut brown hair fringing a 
tantalizing glimpse of glistening pink cuntal flesh. Licking his lips, he 
began pulling off his straining blue-striped swimming trunks. 

"I'd sure enjoy eating that sweet little pussy of yours," he leered at her. 
"But this big cock of mine's been waitin' so long to get inside your 
cock-teasing cunt that I can't wait any longer. Another time, baby, and I'll 
have you screaming for more of it while I tongue-fuck you!" 

Vicki moaned helplessly, partly in reaction to his lewd words, partly in 
terror of the giant fleshy cudgel which shot from his dark-haired loins as 
his trunks dropped to the floor. Her eyes roved dizzily over her girl 
friend's husband's athletic body, taking in his burly, muscular build and 
smooth, golden tanned flesh, but always her gaze was drawn like a magnet 
back toward the impossibly thick penis pointed so menacingly at her helpless 
body. 

A triumphant grin spread over the television repairman's rugged face as a 
feeling of pure power surged through his loins. Always before, he's quite 
correctly suspected that Vicki looked down on him as being vulgar and crude, 
even though he was her best friend's husband and her own husband's boss. Now 
he'd forced her into a position where she was totally at his mercy and could 
not possibly challenge his superiority over her, and soon she'd be begging 
for his rock-hard cock, just the way he'd always dreamed of seeing her! 

Tauntingly, he stroked the thick, uncircumcised foreskin back and forth over 
his blunt, lust-swollen cock-head, causing his dangling balls to sway 
between his strong-muscled legs. Vicki's eyes widened with alarm, and he 
snickered in gleeful delight. 

"Too big for you, huh?" he smirked. "Bigger than Mitch's, huh? Well, don't 
worry - we'll get it up in that tight little hole of yours somehow!" 

Dropping to his knees, he turned to the other man who was struggling out of 
his swimming trunks. 

"Whatdya think we oughtta do with this pretty little piece of ass?" he 
smirked. 

It was an unnecessary question, the two men having already discussed the 
matter in detail on the ride back to the cabin, but Vince could tell that it 
shocked and excited the innocent brunette to hear them talking about her 
this way. Greg understood and smoothly played his part. 

"I kind of fancy getting into that cute little ass of hers," he drawled, 
watching in disbelief and then panic cloud the young woman's lovely face and 
deriving a sadistic satisfaction from her terror. "Are you a virgin back 
there, sweetheart?" 

He couldn't mean such a horrible thing! It was sick, far too perverted for 
her to allow, no matter how eager she was for this forbidden lovemaking. 
Vicki struggled to a sitting position, realizing she'd let herself in for a 
lot more than she was prepared to handle, but before she could make the 
planned dash for her bedroom Vince was upon her. 

"Where the hell d'you think you're going?" he growled as his heavy-muscled 
body pinioned her back down on the soft carpet. "Didn't you hear me tell you 
to do what we say? You wanted to get fucked, and now you're gonna find out 
what it's like to fuck real men!" 

The passion-crazed man's hands were rougher than he realized as he wrenched 
the whimpering brunette's resilient white thighs apart with his thumbs and 
then shoved his knees between them to hold them in position. He crouched 
above her helplessly pinned figure with a lascivious grin on his 
sweat-beaded face, pressing his iron-hard penis against her squirming belly 
as one hand played with her sensitive breasts and the other shot abruptly 
toward the moist pink warmth of her wide-splayed vagina. 

"OOooooh nooo . . . ooohhh Goddd! OOoooohhh!" Vicki whimpered. Her body was 
tense, fists clenched to her sides, eyes firmly closed to shut the 
humiliating reality of her situation. 

Suddenly her body was shaken by an uncontrolled quiver of pleasure as she 
felt Vince's hand contact her already lewdly aroused pussy, and her faint 
protests faded into mewls of unwanted pleasure. Opening her eyes, she gazed 
once again at the enormous angry-red flesh cudgel poking against her 
desire-churning belly. Much as she feared it would hurt her, she desperately 
yearned for him to plunge it up inside her aching pussy so that she could 
know the total degradation of groveling beneath him while another man 
watched. In her excitement, Payne's threat was conveniently forgotten. 

Vince caught her rapt gaze at his blood-engorged cock-shaft and smiled 
smugly, but there was a glimmer of surprise mingling with the lecherous 
hunger in his eyes. From the way his wife and Claudia Champlin had talked, 
he'd expected their quiet chestnut-haired girl friend to put up a hell of a 
fight, but in fact she was squirming her ass-cheeks in lewd undulations as 
he finger-fucked her and eyeing his blood-heavy member as though it were the 
most wonderful thing she'd ever seen. Frigid? -bullshit! His young 
employee's pretty wife might act like a stuck-up cold fish, but with a man 
like himself who knew how to turn a woman on, she was a real hot little 
bitch! 

By now Vince's ego was as swollen as his huge cock, and he decided to 
enhance his triumph by making his vulnerable victim plead for her obscene 
defilement. 

"Do you want me to fuck you now?" he asked slowly, tauntingly. "Do you wanna 
see what a nice thick cock like mine feels like pumping up inside you?" As 
he spoke, he withdrew his teasing finger from Vicki's desire-dampened cuntal 
mouth, relishing her low cry of disappointment as it slipped from her greedy 
pussy with a lewd wet pop. "Do you want my cock?" he demanded again, more 
insistently this time. "C'mon, tell me you want it!" 

The innocent young wife cringed, and her face faded to the color of ashes. 
Then as he repeated this question in a curt tone, two bright pink spots 
appeared on her cheeks and she blurted out her shameless plea. 

"Yesss Vince, I want you to do it... I want your cock inside me ... I need 
it so bad!" 

Without a moment's delay, the panting television repairman's lust-bloated 
cock-head was pressed up against her unprotected vaginal lips. Vicki's belly 
quaked in aching anticipation as the bulbous rubbery-smooth head parted the 
petals of her well-lubricated pussy mouth, and she rocked her hips upward to 
meet with the heavy cock-shaft which could fill the hungry void between her 
widespread legs. Teasingly, Vince drew back, laughing as the unfaithful wife 
groaned in frustration. 

"Jesus, you're one hot little thing, aren't you!" he exclaimed. "How'd your 
husband take care of you all alone, huh?" 

A tremor of guilt ran through Vicki's passion-fired figure as she thought of 
her husband. It wasn't likely that he considered himself as lucky as his 
boss seemed to think he must be, but that was her fault, wasn't it? She had 
never been able to respond even half as passionately to him as she was now 
with strangers, and if he should walk in right now he probably wouldn't even 
recognize. If he should walk in right now... The chilling phrase echoed 
through her brain with a hollow finality. I'm risking the marriage that 
means more to me than anything else in the world, she thought bleakly, and 
then another voice chimed in from the back of her brain. And I don't care! I 
don't care! 

"Now I'm gonna fuck you like you've never been fucked before!" Vince's hiss 
interrupted his employer's wife's reverie. "And I wanna see you move that 
hot ass of yours!" 

Whimpers of yearning torment broke from the spread-eagled brunette's lips as 
the thick-set man lowered his powerful hips and parted her swollen vaginal 
lips with his blunt penile head. The searing contact sent shivers of pure 
pleasure raging through her bloodstream, and to her shock she found her hand 
slipping down between their bodies to grasp his heated thickness and urge it 
still deeper inside her cock-starved cuntal channel. God! It was enormous! 
It was going to hurt terribly, but her reckless need was so strong that it 
overcame her trepidation. 

With a low growl, Vince flicked his hips toward the whimpering woman and 
dropped down on top of her, crushing her full breasts flat beneath his 
dark-haired chest as his lust-swollen hardness shot like a rocket far up 
into the softness of her hungrily clasping cuntal channel. Deeper and deeper 
it plunged until at last his sperm-heavy testicles slammed up against the 
upraised half-moons of her ass-cheeks and their pelvic bones crashed 
together with a shuddering jolt. 

"Ahhh, ahhh!" Vicki moaned out loud, feeling him sliding into her. 

Much to her amazement she realized that the enormous penis had entered her 
with a minimum of pain. It filled every centimeter of her tight vaginal 
passage, and she could feel each wrinkle and vein on the huge flesh cudgel 
imprinted against her palpitating cuntal walls. Then as he suddenly flexed 
the lust-heated thickness which was embedded all the way to her cervix, she 
realized she'd counted her blessings too soon. 

"Aaagghh! Nooo! You're hurting meee!" she wailed in agony. "Aaaagghh! Please 
stop!" 

Vince only grinned in cruel triumph, his eyes shooting red sparks like some 
half-insane beast and frightening the inexperienced nineteen year old more 
than ever. The latent streak of sadism in his character had been aroused by 
her plaintive cries, and he was eager to tame this formerly haughty young 
girl with his mammoth male weapon. 

He's enjoying hurting me, Vicki's tortured mind screamed. Just like that 
perverted movie I read about in the Sunday supplement about that awful 
French Marquis de ... something. He's going to kill me and love every minute 
of it - or worse, he'll injure me in some terrible way, and how will I ever 
explain it to my husband? Oh how in God's name could a nice girl like Dale 
have married a monster like Vince? 

"No please!" she whined again, her tone hopeless as she despaired of raising 
any particle of pity in the strong-muscled man looming above her. "You're 
too big! Please stop!" 

"Too big for ya?" Vince taunted, his eyes blazing with maniacal fire. "Well, 
don't worry - you'll get used to it real quick!" 

"NOOO!" Really panicking now, the whimpering brunette attempted to pull her 
cock-impaled vagina away from the torturing flesh pole then fell limp as 
this only added to the burning agony in her helplessly trapped loins. 
"Plleeaasssee!" she whimpered. "Please don't, Vince! Pleeeezzzee!" 

The burly television repairman seemed angered by her new resistance. His 
broad face darkened into a mask of rage as he grabbed her flailing legs 
behind the knees and cruelly shoved them back against her breasts then 
pinned her ankles behind her neck with talon-like fingers. I'm going to be 
black and blue all over, Vicki wailed in silent anguish. And how will I ever 
explain that to Mitch? 

Suddenly the huge flesh cudgel wrenched almost all the way out of her 
quivering vaginal cavity, and Vicki's body relaxed in relief that he had 
finally taken pity on her helpless plight. Her hopes were dashed an instant 
later as with a bestial growl, he rammed forward with every ounce of 
strength in his hips and thighs to sink his lust-bloated cock back up inside 
her helpless cunt. It sliced into her viciously, driving the smooth flesh of 
her cuntal walls in shivering ripples before it until at last she felt his 
cum-swollen balls slap against the puckering orifice of her anus. 

"Ahhh ... ahhh ..." The impaled young wife's sobbing protest echoed 
piercingly throughout the high ceilinged cabin. She felt as though her 
vagina had been shredded to a million fragments of raw, nerve-filled flesh 
as though she would never be able to walk again. 

But it's what I deserve, I suppose. The thought rang clearly through Vicki's 
mind, overriding her pain. I acted like a common whore, and now I'm being 
punished for it. Vince is treating me like the cheap slut I really am. 

Oddly enough, the pain almost at once began to diminish. Vicki's vagina, 
well-lubricated at it was to start with, had adjusted itself to the massive 
intrusion, and the red-hot arrows of agony faded to teasing throbs of 
masochistic pleasure-pain. Although the blunt balled fist of his cock-head 
was jammed directly up against her spongy extra-sensitive cervix and she 
could still feel every heated inch of his pulsing shaft against her filled 
cuntal walls, the tickling sensation of his sparsely-haired testicles 
swinging against her anal opening and the pungent erotic scent of male and 
female sexual secretions were equally strong positive stimuli. Gradually, 
desire flooded back into her vagina, and its muscles began contracting 
around the huge flesh pole, timidly at first, then more urgently. It was as 
if the pain had been magically transformed into an insignificant portion of 
the much more important satisfaction her body had craved so avidly ever 
since yesterday evening. 

Blinking away the tears that still clung to her long eyelashes, the 
rearoused brunette became aware of Gregory Payne whose existence she'd 
totally forgotten during her torturous ordeal. He was as naked as she and 
Vince, and his hand was frantically massaging a long purple-red penis which 
appeared from her vantage point to be every bit as gigantic as the male 
flesh rod which was pounding so relentlessly into her wide-stretched cuntal 
passage. As muscles she'd never dreamed she possessed began to clasp around 
her best girl friend's husband's heated member as it surged in and out, she 
found herself fantasizing about how it would be to have two vaginas so that 
both men could ravish her simultaneously. 

"Jesus Christ!" Payne groaned. Gone were the calm, cool, confident tones of 
the advertising executive with two private phone lines and an elegant 
secretary smiling at him from behind a new model IBM - now his voice rasped 
with the same coarse bestiality as Vince Varden's. "I can't wait any longer, 
man! Turn her over and let me into that little pink asshole of hers before I 
explode!" 

Vicki froze, suddenly remembering the threatening suggestion he'd made 
earlier. He couldn't really mean it! He couldn't! No one really did sick 
things like that, did they, except perhaps in the Kinsey survey? It was 
unthinkable, impossible - INHUMAN! 

"Okay, okay," the laboring television repairman assented. "I guess she's hot 
enough now for two cocks." 

The egoistic man had achieved a lurid pleasure from the knowledge that the 
other man was watching his huge cock - of which he was inordinately proud - 
subjugate this voluptuous young girl to the point where she was loving his 
punishing ravagement. Still it would be exciting to further humiliate her by 
sandwiching her between them. By the time he and Greg were finished with 
her, she'd be a real woman like Dale and Claudia, ready to come at their 
beck and call and eager to screw at any hour of the day or night. 

"No ... no ... no ... " Vicki chanted weakly. "Oh please, no!" 

Payne paid no attention at all to the inexperienced brunette's piteous 
pleas, nor did Varden. He neatly flipped her slender body over so that she 
was obscenely positioned astride his impaling cock, her ripely rounded 
breasts dancing before his bemused eyes and her shoulder-length chestnut 
curls flailing wildly around her panic-stricken face. Her neck strained in a 
desperate attempt to see what the Kansas City businessman was up to behind 
her, but Vince's hands grasped hold of her tousled silken curls and pulled 
her mouth up to his. 

"Mmmffgghh," she cried in a muffled voice as his greedy tongue slithered 
down her throat and their saliva mingled in a passionate kiss. 

Somehow, kissing in the same way she and her husband used to in their going 
steady days seemed almost more obscene than the animalistic fucking, and 
Vicki was so distracted by her childhood friend's husband's pressuring lips 
- as well as his steadily plunging penis - that for a few seconds she forgot 
the lewd-intentioned Gregory. 

At this precise moment, Payne grasped hold of the unfaithful wife's 
ivory-white ass-cheeks and thrust them wide apart. 

"Noooo!" Vicki wailed, half hysterical with her dread that he was really 
going to attack her in this debased manner. "Wh-What are you doing?" 

The dark-haired businessman's laughter spat out like the slap of a whip. 
"Whatdya think, baby? I'm gonna ram my cock into your sweet little anus!" 

"Oh no, no you can't," she moaned, but it was no use. 

His fingers had forced her tender ass-cheeks so far apart that Vicki felt 
she was being pulled to pieces, and even the thrilling ecstasy in her 
cock-pummeled vagina could not compensate for the agony. When the impatient 
man's middle finger dug into the tight elastic ring of her rectal orifice 
she let out a high-pitched squeal of horrified anguish, but there was no 
escape from the two pairs of brutal male hands that held her pinned between 
their lust-driven bodies. 

"No, no!" she wailed. "No one ever did this to me! You mustn't! Pleeezze!" 

Unfortunately, this was exactly what Payne wanted to hear. After watching 
Vince Varden's triumphant conquering of the initially reluctant young wife, 
he wanted to prove his own masculinity in some spectacular way. Well, now he 
could! He'd be the first to enter this deliciously tight-clasping little 
anus! 

Dragging his finger from the tiny passage with a loud obscene popping sound, 
he immediately positioned his fire-filled cock-head against the puckered 
little orifice. Without thought of the pain or injury he might be inflicting 
upon her, he shoved his aching hardness as far as it would go into the 
frantically resisting anal channel. 

"Arrgghh!" she screamed, wishing she would faint. 

Even the devastating agony of Vince's enormous, merciless penis ramming into 
her vagina had been nothing compared to this burning torture! At least he'd 
been attacking her in the natural human way - this was bestial, abnormal, 
and her shame heightened the stabbing agony she felt as he shoved his 
passion-heavy cockshaft ever deeper into her uselessly resisting rectal 
passage. Vicki's shuddering sobs once again rang out in the wood-paneled 
cabin living room, but neither man seemed to care as they continued to shove 
their lust-driven members into her twin orifices. 

The pain-wracked young woman tried to twist away from the heated flesh 
cudgel pounding deep into her never-before-entered rectal passage, but all 
she succeeded in doing was driving her fire-filled vagina more forcefully 
down on the giant penis invading from her pussy. Tremors of ecstasy mingled 
confusingly with the red-hot agony in her ravished anus, and her cries grew 
inhuman as conflicting sensations of pleasure and pain surged through her 
thrashing loins. 

This can't really be happening to me, her frenzied mind shrieked... must be 
a nightmare! Then, to the no-longer-innocent wife's intense shame, a second 
voice rang out from the darkest corner of her brain. But you like it... you 
like having two strange men's big cocks inside you ... you know you do. .. 

"Nooo!" Vicki wailed in alarm, more in protest to her own traitorous body 
than to the males who were subjugating her to this final humiliation. 

In spite of the torturous pain, it was impossible to deny the perverted 
twinges of unnatural excitement which had lingered in her frustrated loins 
ever since yesterday evening. Some despicable, hitherto unsuspected part of 
her soul actually wanted this ultimate degradation, yearned to be slavishly 
subjected to two abnormally large poles of thickly invading cock-flesh. Sick 
as she knew herself to be, she could not fight the urgent needs which were 
so much more compelling than any code of morality. 

The second cock had begun stroking in and out of her already overstuffed 
loins, automatically adjusting itself to the tempo of the other man's 
steadily pistoning penis. By now both males had forgotten that the original 
reason for seducing the formerly shy and innocent brunette had been to teach 
her the joys of sex, and swapping in particular. Their only goal now was the 
satisfaction of their own lust-maddened loins, and if it included inflicting 
a little pain and thus working out the aggressions that had accumulated over 
the advertising copy and malfunctioning TV sets, so much the better. 

"Goddamn ... goddamn . .. goddamn Gregory gasped as he pushed his aching 
virility deeper into the whimpering woman's butter-soft anal passage with 
each downstroke. "She's got the tightest asshole I ever felt! Out of this 
world!" 

"And the sweetest pussy this side of the Mississippi!" Vince groaned in 
reply. Through the tissue-thin membrane dividing Vicki's two feminine 
orifices, he could feel Payne's rhythmically stroking rigidity, and with 
this added stimulation he knew that it wouldn't be long before his thick 
white cum was exploding deep into Vicki Varden's defenseless loins. 

Despite her unwillingness to respond to such perverted carnality, Vicki was 
powerless to fight the resurgence of strange masochistic pleasure which 
rippled through her doubly-impaled body like liquid lightning. Soon her 
anguished whimpers had changed to mewls of depraved ecstasy, and a wanton 
sparkle replaced the tears in her large blue eyes. 

Look how low I've sunk! she marveled. Yesterday I thought I was wicked for 
finger-fucking myself while I watched the others fuck and suck, and now I'm 
doing something just as bad and loving it! 

With the acceptance of her own animalistic depravity came a furious rush of 
wanton sexuality. The young brunette's body began to writhe between the 
men's sandwiching bodies, her lithe figure jerking backward to meet the 
lengthy thickness ramming into her ravaged anus then wriggling forward to 
draw the spearing shaft of her best friend's husband's cock deeper into her 
cum-hungry cunt. Tendons in her neck and thighs stood out hard and taut as 
she relinquished herself to an abandoned state of salacious sensuality, and 
she began to wail out her uncontrolled arousal in a shrill, half-human keen. 

"Yessss! Fuck meeee! FUCK ME!" Her voice was so loud that it carried out the 
open window, frightening away a flock of birds in the tall-pine in front of 
the cabin. "Fuck my ass! Fuck my cunt! Give me your cccuummm!" 

I'm lost, utterly lost, she thought, the realization of her total 
degradation sinking into her innermost soul. All I car about is having hard 
cocks pounding into me, and I don't give a damn whose cocks they are. The 
old Vicki who wanted love and tenderness is dead. . . and the new Vicki's a 
stranger... a wicked, wanton stranger. I don't think I like her very much, 
but I can't help it and I don't really care. 

"Fuck me!" she cried again, and since both men were as wrapped up in their 
own violent lust as she, they failed to notice the note of tragic despair in 
her scream of passion. "Fuck me hard . . . harder! Fuck me forever! 
FFUUUCCCKKK!" 

* * * 

Mitch had expected to return to Payne's vacation cottage long after the 
girls, hopefully after everyone had eaten lunch and was lying down for the 
afternoon siesta Gregory had said was his custom here. As luck would have 
it, however, he'd only been trudging along the dusty back road for a mile or 
two when an aged pickup truck with a load of hay pulled to a stop beside him 
and an equally old man stuck his grizzled head out the window. 

"Ya wanna lift?" he inquired after pulling a corncob pipe from between, his 
remaining yellow teeth. "Kinda warm for walkin'..." 

Not feeling in the least like making conversation, yet also not wanting to 
offend the kindly man, Mitch thanked the elderly farmer and hoisted his 
fishing gear into the battered truck. And in fact, rather to his surprise, 
the garrulous driver's conversation had put him in a much clearer, calmer 
mood by the time they'd reached the cabin. 

As he walked across the wide green lawn toward the house, the old farmer's 
parting words rang in his brain. 

"Stuck-up city folks," he'd sniffed disdainfully, revving the wheezing 
motor. "Got no understanding 'bout life, 'bout its natural rhythm. Had a 
real nice lookin' smart woman, Payne did - interested in growin' things and 
raisin' critters, she was, and I don't blame her a bit for runnin' off to 
some fool foreign country. All he's interested in is partying. Well, I don't 
know nothin' 'bout nothin', but it seems to me that life's mostly makin' the 
best of the hard times. Me and the missus, now, we've been together over 
fifty year, 'n we've had our hard times, but we understand each other better 
'n anything, and I guess I love her more now than when she was a purty 
little golden-haired thing an' I could put my two hands 'round her waist. 
An' that's only 'cause we worked hard together, taking the knocks along with 
the laughs." 

He paused and Mitch, thinking he'd finally talked himself out, held out his 
hand and smiled. 

"Thanks for the lift," he said. "And I sure hope I know as much about 
everything as you do when I'm your age." 

He started toward the apparently empty house, hoping that he would find 
Vicki there and deciding that if he did, he'd take her in his arms and talk 
to her from the deepest part of his soul as he'd never really done before. 

Everything's going to be all right, he thought. Even the things I did this 
morning won't matter if I'm really down-to-earth honest with Vicki and make 
her understand how important it is to me to spend the rest of my life with 
her. And hell, so she's a little uptight about sex - well, she'll come 
around in the end. That's not the really important thing any way... 

A shrill inhuman cry reverberated through the clear country air as he 
approached the house, but although a chill premonition of evil floated 
through his mind, he was too buoyed up with optimistic hopes to credit it 
with any significance. 

Some sort of animal, he told himself. A mouse caught in a trap or a rabbit 
snared in a thicket. 

Before pushing open the thick wooden door he paused, his heart thudding 
against his ribs in the unacknowledged fear that the scream had been far too 
loud and shrill for a small animal... too similar to the cries Dale and 
Claudia had been making down by the river... 

Don't be ridiculous! his logical brain chided. You're imagining things 
because you feel guilty, that's all. He turned the handle, and then as he 
peered in through the half-open door, his blood turned to ice, and his hand 
froze on the knob. 

"Aaaahhh! Fuck me hard!" A female's lust-demented voice shrieked, and there 
was no mistaking now that the cry was definitely a human one. Nor, despite 
the dimness of the cabin after the glaring sunshine outdoors, was there any 
question that it was his own wife who was thrashing on the floor between the 
naked bodies of two sweat-slickened males. "CCcccuummm ... make me cum! 
OOOoohh, yeeeaaahhh!" 

Vicki's cries cut through her unobserved husband's heart like a keen-bladed 
sword, and for a brief instant he had to close his eyes and cling to the 
doorknob for support. When he opened them again, he saw that all three were 
orgasming, their loins tensing and then shuddering with wave after wave of 
physical ecstasy. As thin rivulets of glistening white sperm began seeping 
out onto his wife's spasming loins, Mitch thought she glanced toward the 
door and saw him standing there. Then as he looked again he saw that her big 
blue eyes were too glazed with her wanton passion to have seen anything. 

"I'M THERE!" she groaned. "Give me your ccuummm!" 

At the sound of Vicki's climactic cry, her husband shakily closed the front 
door and began to walk robot-like toward the entrance to his bedroom. 
Automatically, his face black with despair, he threw a few belongings into a 
suitcase and headed out across the lawn to the road. Although there were no 
more obscene noises echoing out from the living room, his swift departure 
was unobserved, and in fact he was not missed until nightfall. By that time, 
Mitch Marsten was three rides away, driving through another state in the cab 
of a large semi truck. 

* * * 

Three years later when Claudia Champlin finally achieved her dearest 
ambition and won a minor part in a Hollywood film, she paid a visit to Vince 
Varden's brother Art at his Los Angeles nightclub. She'd pretty much lost 
touch with Cedarburg, Kansas after her father's death two years ago, though 
she and Dale still exchanged letters at Christmas, but Art knew a lot of 
people in Hollywood and it seemed advantageous to renew their acquaintance. 
Besides, she was curious to find out what had happened to Vicki who'd gone 
out here to work after her husband deserted her. 

"... never answered any letters while she was working for you, and then she 
just vanished into the blue and we didn't know where to write." The 
glamorous redhead stared down into her drink, an expression of guilty 
sadness clouding her lovely face. "Haven't you heard anything -gossip or 
something? I mean, people around here seem to know everything about every 
one else. It's almost as bad as Cedarburg!" 

The nightclub owner's undressing eyes surveyed Claudia whom he'd remembered 
as a skinny carrot-haired tomboy and decided that he was going to start 
inviting her to his weekend orgies. 

"Sure, I've heard some talk," he said slowly, "but not lately. She really 
didn't fit into my crowd ..." 

"What do you mean by that?" Claudia hoped that she would be acceptable to 
his sophisticated friends. 

"Well you know I had to fire her from her job here," he tried to explain. "I 
mean she was okay as a topless dancer, but she had no cool. It's one thing 
to have a good time - we sure have ourselves some damn good things in this 
part of the world - but she really went overboard. Screwing any old guy or 
even two or three at once right back in the dressing room . . . and then 
getting real upset about it, drinking till she passed out or taking sleeping 
pills and stuff." 

"Oh God! Poor Vicki! I guess she was really upset about her husband leaving 
her ... and she never was very bright. Nice, real nice, but not clever ..." 

"You can say that again," Art refilled the curvaceous redhead's glass. "I 
never saw a nice-looking gal with so much going for her mess herself up so 
bad. But hell, I guess that's life." 

"Yes, I guess that's life," Claudia echoed in a hollow voice. Then, raising 
her glass to touch the handsome nightclub owner's and forcing a smile to her 
face, she added, "Cheers!" 


End
