Grocery Money
by Jackson Robard
(LLP-707)


CHAPTER ONE 

As Grace Benton applied eye makeup, she studied her face; her huge brown 
eyes, the delicate high arched nostrils, the lips curving above like gull's 
wings on the downbeat, and full below. In college she had earned a beauty 
title, and yet, no boy had ever asked her out a second time. She had decided 
that they all wanted the same thing-to seduce her, the campus beauty queen 
and then strut around bragging about it. But she had never given in. And 
then Richard had appeared, a bright boy with a brilliant future. 

He had never made a pass at her, was sensible and considerate, and had 
showered her with gifts and fevered declarations of love. It had been more 
her fault than his, that night after the football game and party, when she 
had allowed, actually encouraged, him to unbutton her blouse and fondle her 
breasts. She remembered the terrible weeks after that night, when she was 
certain his finger had got her pregnant. Now she wished he had done more, 
that she had been even bolder and more vulnerable. Perhaps, their sex life 
would be different now, really exciting, and not the embarrassing ordeal 
that they felt obligated to endure two or three times a month. 

As Grace was hooking her bra, the front door bell sounded, loudly and 
insistently. It was probably Wanda. 

"Come on in," Grace shouted through the partially opened bathroom door. "I'm 
in here, getting ready to go shopping." 

"It's just me, honey. Nothing important. I just came over to tell you the 
news: I lost six pounds last weekend. Isn't that wonderful?" 

"Why, Wanda, that's marvelous! I'll bet Tom's proud of you. But you're not 
planning on losing more, are you?" 

"Not much more-maybe a pound or two," Wanda said offhandedly. "Don't kid 
yourself about Tom, though. He's too busy screwing his clients' wives, and 
anybody else he can, to lose any sleep about my figure. But I don't really 
care what he does on the road. He brings home those nice fat commission 
checks, and they make practically anything tolerable." 

"Wanda, you don't mean that," Grace chided as they moved into the kitchen. 
"You and Tom seem so happy. Everybody thinks so. I'm almost envious. I don't 
mean Richard and I aren't happy, it's just that lately he's been under such 
pressure at work...." 

"Oh, come off it, Grace! We both know perfectly well that your husbands a 
flop in bed, and blames it on you. It's pretty evident to anyone with eyes. 
If you two weren't such idiots about sex, you'd shake your dated morals and 
try something new. Read up on it. Even doctors are saying that extra-marital 
sex can enhance, and sometimes save marriages. And it can even be 
profitable." 

"What do you mean?" Grace asked. "If you're suggesting that wives ought to 
become prostitutes, to submit themselves to..." 

"Poor, poor Grace," Wanda mocked, smiling. "I guess you'd rather bow down to 
your impotent husband's abuse than use your head? Come on, Grace, what's so 
bad about saving a marriage, no matter what methods you use? As for making 
it pay, you know as well as I do that money is one of Richard's major 
concerns. Believe me, if I were in your shoes I wouldn't think twice about 
getting involved in some sort of juicy sex thing!" 

Grace was surprised when she realized that she had been, listening intently 
to Wanda, hanging on her neighbor's words, as though they were vested with 
great wisdom. Everything sounded so logical ... she was late, though, and 
despite the fact that her curiosity was piqued, Grace was anxious to excuse 
herself and start for the market. Richard had been adamant about dinner and 
would be furious if she failed to meet his demands. 

"Please, Wanda, forgive me," she begged, "But I've simply got to shop for 
dinner. Maybe we can discuss this later." 

"Sure, I understand," Wanda soothed. "But think about it, anyway. If you 
ever work up enough courage to do something about saving your marriage, let 
me know. I'm chummy with some of the more enlightened couples in the 
neighborhood, and I might be able to work you two into the action. You might 
find some answers to your problems. To be perfectly frank, I'd like to claim 
some of the sweets myself, but Tom is always out of town, and it's a rule 
that only couples can participate." 

"Thanks, Wanda, but Richard and I would never agree to anything like that. 
And please, don't ever mention to anyone that we've even discussed the 
subject." 

"Fine, honey, suit yourself," Wanda shrugged. "I've got to tear off now 
anyway. And besides, you've got to begin your daily ritual of servitude ... 
to stuff your supremely stable husband with sacrificial food and undeserved 
praise." 

Grace hurried on the way to the market, spurred on as much by anger as fear 
that perhaps Wanda was right. Then her thoughts turned to Wanda's remarkable 
knowledge of sex and what she made sound like a harmless way to supplement 
the family income. Wanda had seemed so certain that any such venture-what 
ever it was-was really innocent and enjoyable. Her good friend never failed 
to amaze her. 

* * * 

The following afternoon, Grace received news of the Taylor's party the next 
afternoon. Wanda had telephoned to invite her and Richard. Seasoning the 
invitation with suggestions that this might well indeed be an ideal 
opportunity to salvage Grace's and Richard's marriage. 

The guests sounded exciting, not at all the usual sort. Wanda had gone 
through the list, describing each person with candor. Grace was strangely, 
disturbingly thrilled at the prospect of the party. It would be an excellent 
outlet for the tensions that had been building up inside her. Hopefully even 
Richard would enjoy himself. She had called him at work and been 
flabbergasted when he had expressed an eagerness to attend the party. 

As she was putting the finishing touches to her face, the telephone rang. 

"Grace, this is Wanda. Listen, dress to the teeth this evening. Angus Leech, 
a big man in pictures, is coming, and I've heard that he's always on the 
lookout for talent. Remember what we talked about? Well, try to loosen up 
and be nice to him, for me. He might put you on to something worthwhile. 
Just keep it in mind. I've got to run now. Bye." 

Grace lingered a moment, the monotonous dial tone lulling her into a 
hypnotic acceptance of the vague opportunities that the name Angus Leech 
formed in her mind. She replaced the receiver on the hook and headed for the 
bedroom, a peculiar sense of hope lending an unaccustomed pertness and 
courage to her stride. 

"Please hurry, Richard. We're already twenty minutes late. You know how 
Wanda gets." 

Seated on the edge of the bed, pulling on his socks, Richard grunted and 
frowned. Grace felt a little abashed at her own boldness, talking to him 
that way, and stood staring at him, waiting for the expected reprisal. But 
he continued to dress, silently and with deliberate haste. Involved as he 
was, he failed to notice her drawn out appraisal of his body. She had not 
dared to look at him long and openly-at his flaccid penis and balls, the 
curve of his rump-for nearly two years. 

His frequent inability to achieve and maintain an erection made him 
extremely sensitive about his private parts, so she studiously avoided any 
reference to the area. This evening, though, she hardly considered the fear 
of reprimand. There pulsed in her a new hope, an as-yet undefined sense of 
adventure and self importance. Something in her was at the brink of 
fulfillment. 

* * * 

The party was already under full sway when, almost an hour late, Grace and 
Richard arrived. The living room was filled with the strains of exotic 
guitar music, muffled somewhat by a vulgar tenor voice issuing folk rock 
from the downstairs den. People were everywhere in the house, milling about, 
swilling down their drinks, searching for either Wanda or Tom to secure 
refills. 

Still feeling deliciously agitated, Grace left Richard and wandered into the 
kitchen, looking for Wanda. She was startled to see an extraordinarily 
handsome man with both hands under a young girl's skirt. Shocked but 
fascinated, Grace stood in the doorway for a moment, observing the 
spectacle. Then she recognized the girl: Lana, Rita Martin's eighteen year 
old daughter! The girl was smiling and slowly rotating her hips in the older 
man's lap. The others in the kitchen were completely oblivious to what was 
happening right in front of them. They were obviously much too occupied to 
notice, being themselves lost in conversation and drinking. 

"What a gorgeous dress, Grace! Why, you're absolutely beautiful!" Wanda 
cooed as she slipped through the throng and casually kissed Grace on the 
cheek. "I was afraid you and old grouch had changed your minds about coming. 
Well, what do you think of the party so far?" 

"Wanda-" Grace halted, not knowing quite how to express her consternation at 
seeing Lana Martin being so flagrantly fondled by a man more than twice the 
pretty girls' age. "Wanda, I-don't you think Rita ought to know what's 
happening to Lana? Look at them-she's actually enjoying it!" 

Wanda grinned and patted Grace consolingly on the shoulder. "I wouldn't 
worry, honey, if I were you. Rita's setting a fine example right now, in the 
back bedroom, with her husband and a nice young man they met at one of their 
own parties. Besides, Lana is in wonderful hands. That's Angus Leech she's 
with." 

"You mean the film producer you mentioned, the one who's always on the 
lookout for talent?" Grace asked, her face coloring with the register of 
even greater shock. 

"The same," Wanda said, still smiling. "Come with me now, I'll fix you a 
really wild drink, something to help you get into the swing of things." 

As they left the kitchen, Grace saw Agnus Leech's right hand withdraw from 
under Lana's skirt and disappear inside her blouse. Lana's own hands were 
busily employed inside the man's unzipped pants, rousing him on to lewd, 
even more enthusiastic manipulations of her breasts. Her lips were parted 
and she seemed to be breathing heavily. Grace's heart raced madly, her legs 
rubbery as she followed her hostess into a lavishly decorated room. 

Richard was already drinking, his expression clearly showing disapproval of 
the orgy like atmosphere of the party. As Wanda moved around behind the 
portable bar to fix herself and Grace the special, "really wild" alcoholic 
concoction she had mentioned, Richard leaned close to his wife and 
whispered. "Jesus, what a disgusting bunch. It looks like it's turning into 
a screw-in, one of those obscene orgies you read about. Foolishness like 
this makes me sick!" 

But Grace paid little attention to her husband's disgruntlement. Instead, 
she gave herself over to the fascination building within her. 

The music, the smoke-filled air, the people paired off or in small clusters, 
and the thought of the handsome film producer brazenly squeezing and 
exploring Lana's lush young body, made Grace feel helpless and submissive, 
unable to fight down the excitement provoking her to wish she were more a 
part of the party. The cocktail was working, too. Occasional rushes of 
warmth flooded her loins and softened everything and everyone in the room. 
Even Richard seemed less formidable, and she found herself thinking back to 
the excitement she had felt on that night they had come so close together in 
the back seat of his car, his hand on her breast, her taut tingling nipple 
growing more and more rigid between his thumb and forefinger. 

She remembered how he had probed the swollen lips of her vagina with his 
other hand, finally slipping into its warm, moist interior with first one, 
then two fingers. She had pushed her crotch down against his hand, 
shamelessly, wantonly arching to engulf him . ... 

"Grace, dear, I want you to meet someone, a very distinguished guest and 
personal friend of the Martin's. This is Mr. Angus Leech." Wanda beamed, her 
hands joining theirs in a salutary manner. "Angus-Mr. Leech-It might pay you 
to get to know one another. I'll see you both later, after I refresh 
everyone's drinks-especially Tom's," she called over her shoulder, 
departing. 

"So then, you're Grace," Angus Leech offered. "Wanda has spoken of you with 
reverence and, I might add, seems to think we have something in common." His 
voice was deep and cultured, as though he had had training in diction as 
well as in the art of charming any female within range. "But let me suggest 
that we move to a quieter place, perhaps the living room, where we may talk 
without all this ghastly chaos." 

She followed the tall, smartly dressed man to a small couch in the living 
room. Oddly, she had forgotten Richard, all the others, that this man had 
been taking cruel advantage of Rita's daughter in the kitchen, and was 
involved in some mysteriously illicit enterprise. 

Angus Leech cast a quick glance around them, satisfying himself that they 
were safely out of earshot of others in the room. Then moving closer to 
Grace, he spoke in a conspiratorial tone: "Wanda has informed me that you're 
desperately in need of money, a great deal of money, which you might be 
interested in earning at your leisure, afternoons. I believe I can help you. 
You see, I own and operate, a small, quite private studio where my 
associates and I film and photograph art subjects. Quite frankly we deal 
mostly with nudes, sometimes filming couples or groups to personalize and 
highlight the creative aspects of uninhibited socialization. I pay quite 
handsomely and am sworn to protect the anonymity of my models. As for the 
films and photographs themselves, they are discreetly distributed among 
responsible agents in this and several other counties. What do you think, I 
mean knowing what I've explained to you?" 

"I-I can't say yet, knowing so little about what you really do. Is there 
some way I can see for myself without becoming too involved?" Grace squirmed 
on the couch beside him, a brief flash of fear and her habitual feeling of 
inferiority coming over her. 

Her sheer, daringly low cut dress felt weightless, inadequate as cover from 
Angus Leech's insulting professional evaluation of her tense ripe body. 

"Try not to interpret my offer as anything but strictly business, Grace. 
Should you decide to accept, you may rest assured that you work will be 
thoroughly delightful and challenging, and very profitable. You'll be making 
a genuine contribution to a select segment of people." 

"I understand-I think I do. I-I just-my husband-" Grace faltered, not really 
clear on what she had started to say. Angus Leech's hand tightened 
reassuringly on her forearm, then moved away and dipped inside his 
fashionably tailored jacket, reappearing a second later with a small white 
card between his fingers. 

"Take my card and stop in to see me tomorrow afternoon, say between one and 
two. The address is on the card. Now, let's join the others and have another 
of Wanda's scandalous punch." 

Together they picked their way through the crowded rooms to the rumpus room, 
where she was relieved to find Richard engaged in a heated debate with Tom. 
They were arguing, with much animation. Tom was very drunk, wore a 
supercilious grin, and waved his glass to punctuate the most decisive points 
in his argument. He did not notice Grace's entrance with Angus Leech. 

The music was now frenetic, the air even thicker with smoke and a medley of 
perfumes. Grace saw Lana Martin standing in a corner across the room, her 
father's arm around her waist. Rita was behind the bar, a husky, brute faced 
man in his twenties seated in front of her on a tall stool. They were 
laughing and exchanging knowing, intimate looks according to the rules of 
some conspicuously erotic game. 

Rita, a splendidly endowed woman of forty with long black hair, leaned 
forward on the bar, her huge breasts resting like balloons on the highly 
polished oak surface. Her young playmate cupped both of her breasts in his 
hands, then lifted his clenched fists to his mouth, tilting them up as 
though he were drinking an imaginary offering. Grace felt her nipples tingle 
and harden as she watched them, wondering if Bob Martin had also seen his 
wife and the young man playing their sex game. Then suddenly Wanda was 
beside her. "So there you are," Wanda scolded as she motioned for Grace to 
follow. "Hurry, I want to show you something," 

"Gosh," Grace remarked as they descended the stairs to the lower level of 
the house, "I've never attended a party anything like this. But what really 
amazes me is that it's all happening next door to my own home!" 

"You're just growing up, honey." 

"Wanda, how on earth do you know all this about sex and people and things 
changing?" Grace asked with undisguised awe and respect in her voice. 

"I read, and I listen," Wanda answered. They were approaching the den. Wanda 
turned and put her finger to her lips, indicating to Grace that they must be 
quiet now. 

Half dozen or so guests were standing just inside and around the den door, 
all staring raptly into the room. Crowding up close to the others, the two 
girls craned their necks to peer into the room, and what Grace saw took her 
breath away. 

A short, heavily muscled man, whom she had never seen before, was sitting 
naked between two apparently young and yet totally uninhibited girls, also 
naked. Slouched down on the couch, as much on his back as his buttocks, he 
wore a smug grin and had his hands clasped behind his head. His long, thick 
penis rose totem-like and inflamed from his corded loins, his heavy 
testicles hanging like wine sacks over the edge of the cushion. One of the 
girls, a blonde with milk white skin and large breasts, was bent over the 
man, sliding her lips up and down the length of one side of the pulsing 
cock. 

Then, as if by tacit agreement, she grasped the man's lust hardened member 
and thrust it toward the other girl, a brunette, who immediately seized it 
and began to tongue the wide spreading head. The man arched, his hands 
coming from behind his head almost involuntarily to wind his fingers, in the 
dark girls hair and pull her mouth down to his throbbing penile staff. 
Responding, his lust her own, she squealed and crammed his fleshy piece 
deeply, deliberately into her mouth. The thick spongy shaft drove down to 
her throat, choking her, until she sucked upwards, greedily milking his 
semen off, savoring the taste of it mixed with her own saliva. She then 
began to suck in earnest, her dark tresses bobbing as she pumped her head 
rhythmically over the breadth and span of the huge oozing organ. 

Grace pressed against Wanda, frowning, and afraid that her hostess might 
detect that she was trembling and out of control. Nevertheless, it was 
urgent to Grace that Wanda's attention be directed to the fact that the 
brunette girl might be suffering, or ashamed. Waving off Grace's panicky 
intrusion, Wanda took her friend's arm and advanced a few steps. 

"My God, Wanda," Grace groaned with innocent disbelief, "Look at her! 
She-likes it!" 

The blonde pulled the jerking penis from the other girl's mouth and plunged 
it into her own moist cavern, her lips thin with the pressure of her arduous 
sucking. The dark girl burrowed her lush wet lips in the man's pubic bush, 
gradually, teasingly, inching lower and lower toward his huge throbbing 
testicles. 

"Bear down, ooooooh, suck, suck, you lousy cunts!" the man shouted, his hips 
bucking upwards, imbedding himself in the honey-haired girl's throat. Grace 
mashed her dimpled thighs against Wanda's firm buttocks and pointed with her 
chin toward the trio. The bubbly white lather at the corners of the girl's 
mouth frightened and intrigued Grace. "Is he cumming-is he cumming in her 
mouth?" 

"Not yet, honey, but soon!" Wanda assured her with glee and a strange 
hoarseness. "Be quiet and watch." 

Ramming deeper and deeper into the blonde's sucking mouth, the man turned 
his gaze directly to Grace, who was now kneeling almost at his feet, her 
eyes glazed with shock and amazement. He winked at her and grabbed his 
balls, pushing one of the boiling orbs into the dark girl's open mouth. She 
whispered and with her free hand eased his other testicle between her full 
lips, gently pulling and pushing his elastic scrotum as she rolled her hot 
tongue from side to side. His breathing was heavy, mounting. Sensing the 
nearness of his peak, the blonde tightened her lips and, working her hands 
under his backside, pulled the cheeks of his ass forward, driving his loaded 
prick into her throat up to the hilt. He convulsed, phlegmy white jets of 
cum spurting and gorging her, into her slender throat. She swallowed and 
pulled on his cock, eager to gulp down every last drop of his sperm, but 
thin streams of the precious fluid seeped from her red wet lips and ran down 
the still lurching shaft, to lick off her share of his cumming. A spirited 
murmur, rising to a pitch of applause, rose from the onlookers. Then, to 
Grace's surprise, Wanda strode to the center of the room and, raising her 
hands above her head, clasped them together in a gesture of victory. 

Without thinking, Grace joined the others in hearty applause. Both girls 
stood, nodded, and just as Wanda had, opened their arms in admiration of the 
conceitedly smirking man, who rose unsteadily and returned the compliment in 
like manner, not only to the girls, but his audience-and to Grace in 
particular. 

"If I may," he said, "I'd like to thank you all for whatever inspiration you 
gave me during this happy encounter. And I'd like especially to laud my 
hostess for having the good sense and money to arrange this occasion. Nor am 
I blind to her taste in neighbors, namely, the felicitously shaped young 
woman now at her side, of whom I've heard glorious reports from my latest, I 
hope last employer, Augus Leech. May we meet again." 

As the group straggled up the stairs, Grace turned to Wanda and asked, "What 
did he mean? Is he really working for Mr. Leech? How did he find out about 
my conversation with Angus-Leech?" 

* * * 

As Grace Benton waited for someone to answer the door to Angus Leech's 
studio, she attempted to assemble the events of the night before in a 
rational order. First, there had been her alarm at seeing Angus Leech in the 
kitchen with young Lana. Then, even more unexpected, there had been the 
naked man, his lovely mistresses, and the incredibly liberal behavior of 
most of the other guests. Everything about the party had been shocking, yet 
fascinating and.... 

"Yes, may I help you?" the petite blonde asked, her boldly casual scrutiny 
of Grace no less startling than the sudden appearance of someone at the 
door. 

"Oh, yes-yes," Grace stammered. "I've an appointment with Angus-Mr. 
Leech-now. That is, I mean, he said to come about this time. I'm Grace 
Benton. I met him-we were at a party last night and were introduced by my 
neighbor. Is he--? " 

"Sure, he's here," the blonde smirked. "Come on up." 

Grace could not help but notice the blonde girl's loose, arrogant gait as 
they approached the elevator. 

"You going to work for Angus?" the girl asked, again with almost studied 
casuality. 

"I don't know. I'm only here to-to talk," Grace said, "You see, I've never 
modeled before or been much of anything but a simple housewife." 

"Well, don't worry yourself about the work. It's a cinch. I got used to it 
right away. Angus had a reputation for being the best in the business. Okay, 
here we are," the blonde announced as the elevator grumbled to a stop. They 
stepped out of the cubicle, turned left and strode down a plushly carpeted 
corridor. 

Despite her escort's cocky demeanor, Grace grew even more optimistic when 
she felt her feet sinking deep into the luxurious pile of the carpet. At 
last they stood in front of a huge door inscribed with Angus Leech's 
initials. The girl inserted a gold key in the door, and they entered. 
Inside, Grace drew a sigh from her throat as the opulent decor of the room 
assailed her senses. 

Quite obviously it was a waiting room. There were impressionistic paintings, 
a brass rack laden with sophisticated magazines, and three sculptures 
comprised of complicated but provocatively fluid armatures and convexities. 
She wondered what Richard would think of such a show of affluence, if he 
would be awed or annoyed. Then it occurred to her that she was alone, that 
the blonde had disappeared. The inner door opened and Angus Leech 
materialized as though from another world, his brow beaded with sweat, his 
eyes flashing. 

"Grace, Grace, darling, you came! I hope I've not kept you waiting. We've 
been filming, you know, and I'm notoriously forgetful when we're shooting. 
Do forgive me!" 

"I've only been here a few minutes," she said shakily. "Your friend helped 
me find my way." Grace smile was unconvincing. 

"That was Millie, my secretary, you might say. But let's get down to 
business. I think it most imperative that I be honest with you from the 
beginning." 

Grace stiffened, her full chest heaving nervously. Angus Leech's directness 
disturbed her. 

"I can't think of considering you for a position until I'm absolutely sure 
that you're qualified. If you've no objections I'll put a few pertinent 
questions to you. First off, may I inquire as to your exact age?" 

"I'm twenty-nine, almost thirty." she replied with haughty innocence. "My 
side of the family keeps well-and we're all disgustingly healthy," she 
added, a note of half hearted apology in her voice. 

"Of course I can see that, my dear. What are your measurements?" 

"I'm not certain, exactly. Is it really necessary that you know that too?" 
Grace's face flushed a bright crimson, her eyes searching at Angus Leech's 
feet for respite from his intense gaze. 

"I could speculate, yes, but I'm not normally given to chance," He said, the 
trace of a titter qualifying his sincerity. "I'm confident, therefore, that 
you'll comply with my wish to confirm your implied guarantee that your 
figure meets my requirements." 

Grace gasped inwardly at the man's suggestion. Also intimidating was his 
insulting leer and what was an unmistakable lump bucking obscenely in his 
pants crotch. 

"I can see in your expression that you understand what I expect of you. But 
you needn't feel queasy about undressing here. We'll not be disturbed," he 
assured her, "and there aren't anymore interviews scheduled for this 
afternoon." 

Awkwardly, Grace Benton unzipped her dress. She was not as much terrified by 
the prospect of her nudity as she was by the smooth and calculating 
anticipation evident in Angus Leech's handsome anxious face. 

"How far down should I go?" Grace weakly inquired, thinking all the while of 
the money and how pleased Richard would be with it. 

"How far are you delicious?" 

Nodding assent, she hesitantly lifted her filmy slip up over her shoulders. 
Standing clad in nothing more than her straining bra and panties she looked 
to Leech for a last minute reprieve, some signal that her humiliation was 
sufficient to warrant redressing. 

But there was no mercy in his eyes-only an insane, high voltage glint that 
frightened her to hasten her performance toward its end. Reaching both hands 
high behind her, she unclasped her bra strap and, shying in a half turn away 
from his demanding scan of her superb white torso, wriggled loose from the 
scanty garment. 

"Turn around!" he commanded. "I haven't time to indulge your stupid little 
ego. Let me see your nipples. Ah ... yes, they're brown and full. 
Excellently balanced too. But hurry, let's see if your thighs are marked. 
Strip!" 

Without hesitation Grace responded, squirming frantically out of her 
underpants, almost tripping as she struggled to disentangle them from her 
ankles. Not even Angus's infamous right hand plunged inside his loosened 
trousers, covering his vulgar prick and balls, stalled her willingness to 
obey. It was similar to the party, she thought, the same unreasonable 
surging of fire and excitement in her body. And he had promised money, too. 

"Yes, you're perfect! You'll earn a great deal, much more than you imagined, 
working for me," he said, his eyes feasting hungrily on her pearly curving 
hips and the dark brown triangle of pubic hair between her thighs. His hand 
slithered lasciviously over his throbbing, now partially exposed rod, a 
gleaming nodule of semen welling at the tip. 

"What shall I do now?" Grace asked, her question a frail whisper. 

Angus Leech edged wordlessly forward on his chair, motioning Grace closer 
with his free hand. He then opened his fly all the way. She could see his 
sperm bloated balls nestling like fat bells below his erect penis. Moving 
toward him a few steps, she was remotely astonished by what she was doing, 
but at the same time acutely conscious of how her own action aroused her. 

"Now, Grace, comes the real test. Many girls', the silly ones, flunk out at 
this point." His breathing was dense with lust, his facial features 
transfigured as he inhaled her sweet, clean musk. 

"Come closer!" 

As she moved a step forward, her belly inches from his aristocratic chin, 
she thought of Richard and their barren years together, of their hardships 
and blind forages into sexual play. What would he think of her now? 

"On the sofa, sit there," Angus commanded, crossing to the couch himself. 

Suddenly he snaked out his hand and seized her wrist, pulling her down 
forcefully beside him. Then, without warning, he half rose and knelt on the 
floor between her firm thighs, staring at her soft curling pubic mound and 
the slightly wet lips of her tight cunt. His experienced hands moved under 
her buttocks, digging into her flesh so fiercely that she shined from the 
pain. Just as she shut her eyes, Grace caught a last glimpse of his satanic 
face easing down toward her sensitive vaginal slit, and the realization of 
what he was about to do made her recoil with a momentary repugnance. 

"No! Oh, please, don't, don't do that!" she sobbed; but Leech's grip was 
powerful and unrelenting. "Please, no one has ever done that, not even my 
husband. Don't! It's making me sick!" 

But her cries merely goaded him on. His long tongue flicked like a lizard's 
at her cringing vulva, purposefully teasing her to increasing 
responsiveness. Grace opened her eyes and watched with horror as he placed 
his thumbs on her naked cuntal lips and drew apart the downy fluff framing 
her sex. 

Grace groaned with the thrill of his first probing inside her vagina. Her 
body automatically arched upwards, her stomach churning with wave after wave 
of sensuality. "Ohhh, please, please stop! I can't bear it ... it's making 
me ... I'm ... Jesus! Go on, eat me, eat me up, you bastard! Use it-suck my 
guts out!" 

Becrazed by her pleading, his victory, he plunged his tongue further and 
further into her now squirming cunt, absorbing the flow of her cuntal juices 
with a relish uncommon even to him. He buried his face deeper between her 
thighs, sucking and slurping, and began to spread the full rounded cheeks of 
her buttocks with the rude ends of his fingers. 

"No, God! No!" Grace wailed. "Not there too!" Angus Leech continued to abuse 
her, running a presumptive finger around the contracting circle of her anus. 
He pushed slowly into the tight rubbery chamber with the middle finger of 
his right hand. One knuckle, then two grinding into her. Rising from her 
raw, slippery vaginal slit, he confronted her face to face with his 
glistening lips and grinned inhumanly as he withdrew his finger from her 
rectum. 

"Don't stop!" Grace begged, "For God's sake, have mercy!" 

He wormed three fingers in her pussy and rolled them from wall to wall, 
lubricating them with her flowing juices. She jacked her legs back even with 
her breasts as he wormed two slick fingers back into her rectal cavity and 
renewed his vile assault of her wide open cunt. 

"Bite me!" she screamed. "Bite my thing!" 

"What thing? Say it, you whore!" 

"My, my hole. Bite my hole there! I'm ready, yes! Go faster with your mouth. 
I don't care ... not now, not now! Please finish me, please!" 

His clammy paws ran roughshod over her waist and trembling breasts, 
occasionally dancing down below her puckering navel to where his searing 
reptile tongue tased and savored the dual orifices between her widespread 
legs. 

"I'm ready-I'm starting!" Grace shouted, filling the soundproof room with 
her gasping passion. "I'm cummmmmming! Ooohhh, yes!" she exploded, jerking 
and pushing against her new employer's fingers and mouth, the beautiful rush 
of fiery, spastic relief coursing every nook and crevice of her exquisite 
shape. "Are you ... are you cumming?" . 

At last she fell back, her pale arms and shoulders drooping submissively, 
uncaring that her vaginal mouth was bare and gaping, her secrets revealed. 
Nothing was left to her now. Angus Leech's accusing glare did not phase her; 
it was what she had expected. 

His voice came from far away. "You mustn't look upon yourself as a failure. 
I'm certain you don't realize my condition, or even that men are sometimes 
unequal to women like you, but I want you to understand that my-call it 
judgment-my estimation of a woman had nothing to do with my participation 
with her in an artistic event between the sexes. I'm saying that you're 
dazzlingly desirable and more than qualified to take a key position in my 
studio. Most important, Grace, is your responsibility to the masses, their 
education concerning matters of sex. I know what you must be thinking," 
Angus said calmly and almost tenderly. "You're wondering how our involvement 
this afternoon relates to your work with me. Trust me when I say it does, 
and vitally. I must be wholly confident that anyone I'm considering for a 
position be equipped, emotionally as well as physically, to handle the work. 
After all, others are involved, and I've got to guard my investments against 
incompetence." 

Grace listened as she straightened her stockings. His mention of 
incompetency filled her with fear, seemed threatening even though he had 
told her only moments before that she was eminently qualified to model in 
his studio. Why, why was she so afraid of failure, of disappointing her 
husband, Angus Leech, everyone? 

"And now, my precious," He said cheerily, "I think it's the right moment to 
toast our new agreement." 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Grace Benton heard the front doorbell, and at first she thought it was 
Wanda. Putting aside her dishes she descended to the porch landing and 
opened the door. It was Hollie, the single girl who lived across the street 
in a smaller version of all the houses in the neighborhood. 

"Hi, Grace," Hollie puffed. "Excuse me, I'm out of breath. I've been making 
the rounds this morning, and I swear, I'm going to take Wanda's advice and 
start dieting! She says most people are short winded because they're too 
heavy, and I guess she's right in my case." 

The only thing too heavy about you is your chest, Grace thought to herself, 
looking at the young redhead's enormous bosom. 

Richard had said that Tom and all the other men in the neighborhood 
constantly joked about Hollie's breasts. Grace suspected that it was not 
only Hollie's ample anatomy that provoked men. It was doubtless the 
redhead's unyielding, nearly fanatic sense of morality, her saintly 
attitude, that made her a target for ridicule. 

"Uh, Wanda tells me you've got a job now," Hollie said, seating herself 
opposite Grace at the kitchen table. "It's none of my business, and you can 
tell me so, but aren't you making a big mistake working for a man like 
that?" 

"What man?" Grace asked. "What did Wanda tell you?" 

"Well, she said that you're supposed to be posing for someone named Leech, 
in the nude! And she said Richard doesn't know. You'd better listen to me 
and give up the whole rotten business. It'll only cause trouble and make you 
ashamed to face everyone. I don't know how you even considered it!" 

"You don't know what you're talking about," Grace lied. "You're making 
something out of nothing. So please, keep your opinions to yourself. It so 
happens I'm working with Mr. Leech in a purely creative capacity, on an 
education project, and Richard doesn't know because I want to surprise him 
with the money." 

"Well, I'm sorry. Wanda brought it up, and I, well, it sounded, you know . 
... " 

"Yes, I know. It sounded like something exciting, so dirty to your way of 
thinking. Are you jealous, Hollie? Are you jealous that now I'm doing 
worthwhile work, something more than just joining church groups and talking 
about helping people, the way you do? Are you planning to spoil my plan, 
telling Richard? Are you?" 

Grace was shocked but pleased by her own outburst, the daring with which she 
lied to the self righteous little bitch. But she was relieved that she had 
not called Hollie the name she had meant to. The poor girl was shaken 
enough. 

"I shouldn't have spoken that way," Grace said comfortingly. "I'm tense, 
that's all. The new job is strenuous and of course, you can appreciate that 
I'm eager to make a go of it and help Richard relax about money, and 
security." She was further amazed when her words assuaged Hollie with the 
same effectiveness that Angus Leech's had had after yesterday's crisis in 
his office. 

"Oh yeah, I know," Hollie enthused. "I'm really proud of you, that you're so 
dedicated to Richard and to the brand new job." 

"Thanks. But now, if you'll forgive me, Hollie, I've got to clean house and 
get ready for this afternoon. Drop by in a day or two, if you've got time, 
and I'll let you know how everything is going." 

* * * 

Grace Benton felt herself, despite the strongest doubts, falling more and 
more in line with Angus Leech's way of thinking. She had had a difficult 
time that morning, fighting hesitancies, fears of a disastrous mistake. But 
she had dressed according to his instructions and now, still early, she sat 
in the waiting room. 

Richard had called at noon, as usual, and nothing had been different in his 
tone. She had almost hoped he would be tender or in some respect aware of 
her tenseness. She had wanted him to awaken in her a crippling sense of 
danger, to strengthen her mistrust of the charming man who was at this very 
minute just beyond the door, preparing for her entrance. But now danger was 
dulled, beyond her, in Angus Leech's hands. 

Grace ran her fingers long the soft leather of the tan couch, thinking again 
of yesterday, how she had been responsive to the sensual invasions the 
perverted use of her helpless body. 

"Millie said you had arrived," Angus said as he entered the room and seated 
himself beside her. 

"All right, I suppose. But about the money, the three hundred dollars I 
found in my purse when I got home...." 

"Listen," Angus Leech said, chuckling, "you earned every cent of it. Anyway, 
we haven't time to haggle over a few dollars, or perhaps you've changed your 
mind?" 

"No, I don't think so, but there's talk around the neighborhood. Wanda...." 

"Mrs. Taylor is quite discreet. I expect she'll join us too, one of these 
days. Not for the money, mind you, but because she's open minded and wants 
to help. You're special, though, and have so much more to offer people." 

Grace's misgivings melted, a glow of pride and self assurance replacing 
them. No one had ever said she was superior to Wanda. She felt a kind of 
smugness rising in her. 

"Now, let's forget about your neighbors and talk about the work at hand. 
First off, I can't impress upon you enough how important authenticity is in 
our work. You'll be meeting people inside who know exactly what I want, must 
have, and they'll help you understand your function. Millie will help, so 
listen to her. Let's go in now, I want to introduce you to someone." 

Grace followed him through the door, into a room that was surprisingly like 
any one of a number of studio apartments she had seen in her college days. A 
couch, a bed, a table, a few chairs and all very ordinary. And there was a 
man, not much taller than Angus Leech, seated on the edge of the bed. He was 
dark and muscular. 

"Grace, this is Irish. I want you two to get acquainted, talk, get the feel 
of each other. You'll be working together this afternoon. I'll be with you 
later." Grace noticed a strange, distracted quality in Leech's voice, as 
though he were excited. As he left the room, he cast a secretive glance 
toward the man on the bed. 

"Come on over here," Irish said, motioning to a spot beside him, his eyes 
quickly taking in Grace's voluptuous curves as she moved slowly to the spot 
he had indicated. "That's a pretty dress, you know. Not every woman can fill 
out a cheap dress." 

"I was, uh, told to wear this," she mumbled, ashamed of herself and sorry 
she had not brought something more attractive to wear. 

"Oh, no, don't worry. I know you have better clothes. It's your body, all 
that underneath, you should be very proud." 

Grace turned to look at him as he patted her soft shoulder with a gentleness 
and ease natural to one accustomed to doling out sympathy. Then, taking her 
off guard, he tightened his grip on her shoulder and pulled her close to 
him, planting a hot firm kiss on her lips. "No, relax," he breathed in her 
ear as she struggled to free herself from his arms. "You take everything 
wrong. Angus warned me that you would be afraid." 

She squirmed back a little, aware that a prickly feeling of pleasure was 
traveling through her thighs. Grace hoped she could not feel the goose 
pimples rising like tiny welts where his fingers played lightly at the nape 
of her neck. His other hand began to creep along her stomach, sawing back 
and forth and steadily higher toward her breasts. When his thumb brushed the 
underside of her right breast, she whimpered, an electric shock rippling 
down her spine and finally coming to rest with searing heat between her 
thighs. He pulled her close again, this time kissing her ear, his tongue 
wetly rummaging inside it. 

"Please, oh! You mustn't. Angus will be back soon!" 

"I know, baby, I know," Irish panted, his hand moving up to fully cup 
Grace's straining breast. She sighed again and concentrated all her will on 
thoughts of Richard, her home, the future, but to no avail. 

Her pelvis began to push and withdraw with a rhythmic rocking motion, 
betraying her, making her protestations as useless and hypocritical as 
though she were preaching chastity in the nude. 

Then he slipped his hand deftly inside her blouse onto the swell of flesh 
above the black bra. His other hand slipped down her arm and moved under the 
hem of her shirt to explore and palm the dampness of her inner thigh. Then 
suddenly, he drew away from her and spoke coldly, with business-like 
evenness. "Undress, right now! He'll be back in a minute, and we've got to 
be ready." 

"I don't understand!" Grace blurted. But he seemed not to hear her and rose, 
taking off his shirt and crossing to the table. She saw that pants reared at 
the crotch and were wet and bulging. 

"Come on, dammit, get out of that outfit!" he commanded, startling her to 
her feet. When Grace failed to move, he marched over to her and, with one 
downward tug, unzipped her blouse down the back. He then stopped and seized 
her skirt with both hands and pulled it over her head. 

"Keep your stockings on, and your panties. I'll take them off when it's 
time." 

Angus Leech entered just as Irish tossed Grace's clothes to the floor. 
Millie appeared next, the man who had been at Wanda's party making love with 
the two women, hard behind her. Frowning, he clutched a rumpled brown hat in 
one hand and a full bottle of scotch in the other. 

"Well, I'll be dammed if it isn't sweet little Miss Grace," the nude man at 
the party boomed, ogling Grace's delicious, nearly nude body. "And here she 
is with Mr. Irish, in what seems to me an outrageously compromising 
position. Holy Christ! What we won't all do for a few lousy bucks!" 

"Shutup!" Leech said curtly, menace in his voice. "You'll have your chance 
to shoot off, if you're not too incapacitated when your turn comes." 

Grace forgot her nudity for a moment and stared back at the half drunk, 
obnoxious man, remembering him on Wanda's couch, the two lusty girls sucking 
and drinking his sex. He had chosen her, out of all the women present, to 
speak to after he had spent himself in that girl's mouth, and now, having 
dismissed Angus's remarks, he pored over her scantily clad body. 

"Oh, I see that you like our newcomer," Angus Leech chortled. "Believe me, 
you'll have a real understanding of Grace after Irish performs." 

"The cameras are ready, Mr. Leech, whenever you are," Millie said, the same 
tinge of impatience in her voice and manner. 

At that, Grace's eyes darted to Angus Leech for reassurance, but he was 
standing by the door, issuing imperious orders to the men wheeling in the 
two portable movie cameras. As they positioned the equipment, in front of 
Irish and Grace, who were still standing by the bed, Leech noticed the 
clothing in a heap on the floor. 

"Here, Grace," Leech said, bending down to retrieve the garments. "Put them 
on again. The title of this film is "Wayward Wife", and I want you to look 
like a housewife. And Grace, pay no attention to the cameras, nor to any of 
us. Irish knows what to do, just let your body respond to him." 

Grace was vaguely aware of a delicate whirring from the cameras as Irish 
snaked his arm around her waist and gently forced her down to sit with him 
on the edge of the bed. A last dim thought of trying to tear herself away 
from him, and out of the room, flickered in her mind, but dwindled to a 
spark, and finally out, when the strange man swayed closer and placed a 
series of light kisses on her slender throat. 

His hands roamed expertly, still lightly, over her breasts and up and down 
her spine. Sweet chills fluttered involuntarily in her stomach when he 
pressed his wet lips on hers, his tongue plunging deep in her mouth. She 
felt a sudden rush of cool air on her back as he unzipped her skirt down to 
the cleavage between her buttocks. 

He stood, then, drawing her up with him, and coolly pulled her blouse over 
her head for the second time that afternoon. She felt his hand behind her 
back again, unsnapping the hooks of her bra and next the thrilling weight of 
her breasts falling full and free from support. She gasped as he removed it 
from her shoulders and heard him utter a moan of appreciation when the 
magnificent melons came into view. He sat on the bed and, hooking two 
fingers in the elastic waist band of her black nylon panties, pulled her 
last vestige of modesty down over the stark white symmetry of her buttocks. 

Taking her solidly by the hips, her turned torso to face him, her soft, 
resilient pubic hair only inches from his lips, Grace was horrified and 
winced, when she heard movement behind her and looked over her shoulder to 
see the cameras gliding like the eyes of prying monsters to either side of 
her, and she jumped when Irish's tongue darted forward like a lizard and 
touched the dewy outer petals of her vagina. 

His hands were on her backside, pressuring her forward, his fingers digging 
relentlessly into the spongy vellum of her flesh. She was losing her 
balance, falling forward against his face, against his teasing tongue now 
swirling lewdly in and out of her tortured pussy. At last she lost her 
footing completely and fell with him on the firm surface of the bed. He 
quickly grabbed her ankles and one shoulder, half flipping her on her back 
beside him, and then with both hands cupped at her up-thrust breasts, 
squeezing them cruelly until the nipples stretched and spread like peaches 
on the verge of bursting. She lay frozen to the mattress,, her humiliation 
complete, as he wormed out of his pants and returned to the ravishment of 
her body in one or two fluid movements. Again he attacked her aching 
breasts, closing his mouth over them one at a time, sucking and biting the 
pink lips to hard rubbery erection. 

Grace felt his still rod burning poker hot into her thigh. Despite her 
revulsion and the waves of disbelief that this was actually happening to 
her, little pangs of raw pleasure began to nibble at her nerve endings, 
peaking in her nipples and budding into full flower in her throbbing 
clitoris. His breath thickening, Irish brought his left hand down and worked 
his middle finger into Grace's nakedly contracting cunt. 

"Oh, ooooooh! My God, noooooo!" she cried even as she involuntarily ground 
her hips higher against the greedy, invading finger. Her legs splayed wider 
apart, exposing her moist quivering cunt to the leering lens of the cameras 
moving in for close up shots of the spectacle. 

"Now! Fuck her good!" came Angus Leech's shrill voice from somewhere in the 
room. 

Irish rose on the bed to his knees and began to stroke the taut 
uncircumcised foreskin of his brazen shaft. 

"What do you think of this?" he grinned, waving the hardened rod of flesh 
before her unbelieving eyes. 

She tried to speak, to tell him to stop, but he continued to display himself 
as she watched with tears filling her eyes. His body eased up to her, and he 
lifted and bullied her legs high and back over her writhing shoulders until 
she was bent almost double. She jerked and fought in one last desperate 
struggle, her head flailing from side to side, as he introduced the blood 
swollen prick into the slightly parted lips of her tight, defenseless cunt. 
She held her breath as the long, hard thing penetrated the tender walls of 
the passage, flexing and growing with each measured stroke. Each thrust 
drove him deeper and fattened her knees painfully into her chest. Then he 
humped faster and faster, deeper and deeper, his pistoning cock disappearing 
up to the hilt as his sperm bloated testicles slapped hard down against her 
tiny puckered anus. 

Grace had lost her will now, and she knew that, in spite of her humiliation 
and disgust, she was totally subjugated by this unknown man pumping wildly 
into her! She reached up to encircle his back with her arms, grinding her 
lust drenched vaginal crevice harder to him as her ardor maddened him on to 
ferocious speed and savagery. She no longer knew fear, only the glorious 
sensation of lying beneath this man who was fucking her against her will, 
and giving back to him as much as he was giving her. His hands clamored 
frantically under her buttocks, cupping each cheek and raising her pelvis 
for easier access to her depths, and he toiled above her, feeding her 
longer, smoother strokes that drew his cock out of her to its blunt, 
hardened head, then banging back into her, punished her cervix anew. She was 
oblivious to the approach of one camera to a position less than a foot from 
the edge of the bed. Angus Leech gestured maniacally and pointed to the 
thin, glistening lips of Grace's tight, hair-lined cunt wrapped obscenely 
around the hammering penis. Without looking behind him, he wiggled his 
fingers to invite the waiting man to join the fun. 

"Okay, you bastard, do your stuff," Leech, whispered tremulously in the 
man's ear. 

Without a word, he lay down beside Grace, his loins aligned with her head. 
He glanced up at Irish, smiled, and grasped Grace's head with both his 
hands, arching his hips toward her face. 

"Go ahead, fuck her face!" Leech screamed. 

Responding, the man hunched his muscular back and guided his giant, half 
hard cock to Grace's lips. She convulsed, unable to fathom the threat of the 
slowly lengthening penis pressing against her teeth. It was too much to 
focus on at once, one cock plunging in and out of her belly, another one, 
much larger, trying to push into her mouth! B oh! It was wonderful! 

"I'm almost there, I'm almost. . . " Irish hissed as he abruptly halted his 
motion and searched Leech's face for directions. 

"Change, change, then, for God's sake, and hurry!" Leech yelled. 

Then scrambling for new vantage points of Grace's body, the two men traded 
places and resumed their violations of the sumptuous openings of the girl at 
their disposal. Irish's cock found her mouth and mashed inward between her 
lips without hesitation. The rapidly sobering man ran his mammoth prick into 
her hungrily clasping cunt. 

They fucked into her for a minute and, his eyes rolling back, Irish hoisted 
Grace's head and rocketed a hot, searing stream of pungent, white cum into 
her mouth. Gagging, she swallowed, but was unable to keep from losing some 
of the gushing liquid at the corners of her mouth. Still, the other man with 
his boots tucked between the springs and the bed frame, dug his huge driving 
muscle into the flat plane of her wildly pulsating pussy, stretching and 
abusing the elastic, marble like walls with a vengeance. 

"Fuck me, fuck me harder! I'm cummmmmmg" Grace shrieked, her full white 
buttocks swirling up and almost disrupting the boring rhythm of the man's 
gyrating lunges. 

"Give it hell, baby!" he puffed down into her lust contorted face, renewing 
his assault and plowing his huge bulging cock into her with even greater 
fervor and abandon. Grace writhed ecstatically under him, the tremendous 
passion at its crest, her lips parting as she moaned and kicked madly with 
her heels digging wildly at the man's driving buttocks, spurring him on. 

"Jesus! Here I come, slut! Here's my load...." 

His muscular buttocks began to jerk uncontrollably as his cock expanded with 
the first rushes of cumming, the viscous liquid spurting deep inside her, 
filling her starved cavity and squirting out at the base of his cock with 
every new thrust. Grace could feel it, warm and sticky, running mercury like 
down into the crevice of her ass and onto the sweat soaked bed. Gradually 
his motions slowed to a halt, and then, delivering one last spastic stroke, 
he collapsed uselessly on her flushed body. After a moment, he lifted 
himself from between her still wide split legs and withdrew his steadily 
deflating member from her vagina with a lewd popping noise. 

Grace lay immobile, limp, watching the exhausted performer roll over on his 
back beside the equally drained Irish. She was paralyzed by shame and could 
not yet encompass the entire meaning of what had happened! 

This morning she had been a loyal wife to Richard, and now she lay here with 
the foul sperm of two utter strangers still running out of her! 

Yet, something, a lingering thrill, still hummed excitingly in her nipples, 
in her flared cuntal passage. If someone, anyone, wanted her now, she would 
not resist or even care very much. Nothing mattered now, not anymore! 

As though reading her thoughts, Angus Leech approached her, holding his 
hardened cock as he hurriedly greased its pulsing length with a clear 
jellyish lubricant. 

"All right, you two," he gesticulated to Irish and the man, "Off the bed!" 
When the two men had moved away and gone to the back of the room, Angus 
Leech looked at Grace with a devilish glint in his eyes, "I presume you're 
ready for the finale, my dear?" 

"What-are you going to do?" she replied blandly but with faint interest. 

"You'll see," he answered, helping her to her knees. "I'm going to fuck you 
... just that." 

Nothing could be more debasing than what had already happened, Grace 
decided, and allowed herself to be positioned for his use. 

She obeyed his sharp commands to turn away from him and kneel like an animal 
on her hands and knees, her ivory buttocks presented to him like a 
sacrificial offering. Grace cringed and rocked forward on her hands when 
Leech's finger came into contact with the tightly puckered lips of her anus, 
ambitiously massaging and tracing its velvety nm. 

"Not there, not there, too!" she suddenly wailed as she became aware of his 
intent, but her convulsive sobs only excited his depraved mind to more 
deliberate action. 

Clinging fiendishly to one cheek of her ass, he placed the tip of his cock 
at her tight, cringing anus and pushed the oozing end of it an inch into 
her, crushing and drawing the soft outer skin in with him. Then, a slight 
snap, and he was in ... a third of his huge, hardened penis was sunk in her 
ass! 

The helpless young wife's body pitched forward, away from him, but he 
followed her like a human dog after a bitch in heat, his knees shuffling 
into the bed with her, his hands grinding and mauling her breasts 
sadistically. Now he was almost buried in her, and she felt her clitoris 
tingle as his balls swung closer and closer to it with each lunge. She was 
actually liking it! 

"How's that, bitch! You like being fucked in your ass-hole, eh?" 

"It's good, oooooohhh ... ooohhh!! ! '" 

"Tell me, what am I doing, what do you want!" 

"You're fucking me ... in ... in my ass! And Oh God, please don't stop, 
ever!" she heard herself beg piteously. "Fuck me faster, faster ... oooh, 
faster!" 

Angus Leech's face contorted as she pleaded for him to go on. He fucked her 
rectum like a maddened beast, his tempo increasing with her cries, until 
they were at the edge of the far side of the bed. His moment was building, 
coming on with a force and drama that made him drool and lose strings of 
spittle on the small of her back. Her own forces were mounting again, and 
she ground salaciously back on the man's thighs to enjoy the full benefit of 
his cock. 

Suddenly, without warning, his desire spilled into her and brought on her 
own summing. 

Seconds later, Angus Leech disentangled himself from his depleted partner 
and gazed glassy eyed at the cameramen. "You got that, all of it, didn't 
you?" His question came in short gulps, a query intelligible perhaps only to 
his experienced technicians, and to Millie, who was scribbling notes on a 
piece of crinkly note paper. Leech rose, then, strode arrogantly on the 
couch. 

"You know," he said, "I'm thoroughly convinced that we should make this into 
a sequence. Say, a series of films depicting the housewife's return to 
nature. With Grace's assets, there's no telling what might develop!" 

With his last remark, he turned to Grace who was still sprawled on the bed, 
the wetness of their sperm matting her pubic hair and pooling beneath her, 
"What do you think, sweetheart?" 

Her silence provoked a wry smile on Leech's face. "By the way, Mrs. Benton," 
Millie said, tossing her blonde hair as she went over to Grace, here's your 
envelope for today. The instructions for tomorrow are enclosed." Then, her 
nose bunching up into an impish grin, she added, "You do have a mink, don't 
you?" Well, if you don't, I'm sure you'll be able to afford one with what's 
in today's envelope for you." 

Grace rose quietly and dressed, avoiding the others' faces as she swiped 
here and there on her body with the towel that Irish had handed her a few 
moments before. She was astonished that they could be so casual and 
indifferent so soon after the humiliating orgy that had ended only five 
minutes ago. 

No one had even asked how she was, whether she was alive or anything. But 
what difference would it make, she wondered, wriggling her foot into her 
shoe. What could possibly change things? She knew that she should be filled 
with repugnance and loathing, but she was not, and this alarmed Grace Benton 
more than anything. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Richard had always chosen their anniversary nights to enact the sex farce 
that had embarrassed them for years. There was little chance that tonight 
would be an exception, Grace Benton thought as she finished clearing off the 
dinner table. 

"What do you say we turn in?" Richard said with nonchalance. "I guess you're 
pretty anxious to celebrate our anniversary ... as always." 

"Yes, I'm very tired," Grace lied. "I'd like to store up a bit of extra 
sleep tonight. Wanda's asked me for another fitting tomorrow, in the 
afternoon, and the excitement this evening has me off balance." 

"Off what! On our anniversary!" Goddammit!" he blasted, his face reddening, 
"I just don't know what to make of you. You've been behaving like a giddy 
school girl ever since that damned party!" His furor increasing, he stormed 
off toward the hall bathroom, detouring at the landing at the top of the 
stairs to snatch up the box with Grace's necklace in it. "There!" he 
screamed, slamming the box against the wall, "There's your present! Pick it 
up!" 

* * * 

Grace had come put early to sit on their lawn chair on the patio to feed the 
birds, and think. Last night had been worse in many ways that the experience 
at Angus Leech's studio the day before, and Richard's anger had converted 
the satisfaction and joy she had felt into a sordid recollection of her 
encounter with the others ... Irish, that man, the lewd bestial act by 
Angus, and Angus himself. And Millie, always so knowing and insultingly 
smug, as though she had lived several lifetimes of degradation, and 
survived. Would she become a Millie, so jaded and enlightened about sex and 
exhibitionism that she would one day jot down notes about it with the same 
efficiency? God, no! she resolved with an inward sweep of conclusive 
triumph. She would learn, earn, and get out, be herself again! 

"Grace, honey, are you crying?" Startled, Grace whipped her head around and 
watched Wanda's form sharpen through the tears. "You, silly, what's the 
matter?" 

"Nothing, nothing at all! Haven't you ever been happy enough to laugh this 
way? And besides, what do you know .about girls like me? It's only ... oh 
damn!" Grace broke down completely, her body convulsing with sobs. 

"Honey, come on now, let's talk about it," Wanda said softly, seating 
herself to cradle Grace in her arms. "Has that husband of yours been beating 
you down again?" 

"Oh, Wanda, it's not just that. I feel so guilty, so ... dirty! I can't make 
myself believe that what I'm doing for Angus Leech is worth the money." 

"So that's it," Wanda said, brightening. "Listen, you ninny, haven't I told 
you I'd do the same thing myself, and enjoy doing it, if I were in your 
shoes? All right, look at it this way. You want to save your marriage, don't 
you? You want to help Richard. Well, it's a cinch that he's not going to 
admit his own fault as far as your sex life in concerned. And it'll take 
years for him to earn enough to be satisfied, if he ever did know. So take 
it easy. You're doing the right thing." 

"I wish I could really believe that, Wanda. At least I feel better, though. 
Thanks a lot." 

"Don't mention it. Just fill me in on what happened yesterday at the studio. 
And don't leave out a thing! 

"I'd rather not," Grace demurred, "and besides, I've got to get ready. I'm 
leaving early to do some shopping on the way." 

"Okay, honey, I'll let you go, I just stopped by for a second anyway, but 
I'll be back later on if you feel like talking." 

"Thanks, Wanda. I appreciate you caring so much." 

* * * 

As it was, Grace arrived at the studio late. When she followed Angus Leech 
into the apartment, she was astonished to find that it had been radically 
changed. It was no longer the modest setting she had seen the previous day. 
There was a plethora of tropical plants, vines trailing down the walls, 
rocks, and a kind of artificial mossy grass covering the floor. There was a 
plastic surfaced imitation of a pool, where the bed had been yesterday. In 
all, the room resembled a jungle glen out of a fairytale world. 

"Are you impressed?" Angus Leech asked. 

"Yes, but what does it mean?" Grace frowned. 

"It's today's theme, the setting for your return to nature from frustrating 
domesticity. You'll see. You'll be assisted by Millie today. She's already 
aware of the nature of today's sequence, so please listen to her." 

Millie's entrance punctuated Angus Leech's statement. She was dressed in 
what appeared to be an authentic leopard skin sarong, her breasts and thighs 
jiggling piquantly as she walked. She flashed the same all knowing smile at 
Grace. 

"Angus, if you'll call in the others and get the performers..." Millie 
suggested. Nodding, Angus left the room and returned instantly with the same 
familiar cameramen and two large black goats at the ends of dual leashes. 
The men stationed the cameras in front of a great boulder with a hollowed 
out cup large enough to seat a human figure. It seemed to be made of plaster 
and was tapered down from the peak of what could be used as a back rest, 
into two furrows about eighteen inches above and on either side of the seat. 
The edifice piqued Grace's curiosity, and she moved closer to inspect it. 

"That's right, Mrs. Benton." Millie said, "Just sit down there on the rock 
and watch." Millie then led one of the goats to a spot about two feet away 
from Grace, unsnapped the leash from its collar, and indicated to Angus that 
she was ready. 

"Start the cameras," Leech bawled, plopping down in a canvas chair between 
the cameras. 

Grace watched the blonde girl's face, assume a primitive look as she petted 
the billy goat's flanks and slowly knelt by its hindquarters. Still stroking 
the animal, her long fingers creeping carefully toward the underside of its 
stomach, Millie spoke gently in a tongue the beast seemed to understand. He 
bleated and stepped up to the rock, rearing to place his forefeet alongside 
Grace's thighs. Millie moved with the goat, then sat and scooted under him 
on her buttocks, her legs straddling the dark shinny hooves that supported 
his haunches. Grace's heart throbbed crazily as she watched the blonde's 
hand take hold of the goat's hairy sheath and begin to milk it with lewd 
authority. She saw the creature respond, his natural lust kinkling and 
jerking his muscles to life. His dark pink prick began to emerge from the 
black outer casing, watery jets of fluid arching out and onto Millie's 
cheeks and shoulders. Millie skinned back the humping cock and grasped it 
with both hands until Grace beheld the smooth rubbery head on the staff, at 
its visible base, surging toward the shameless girl's lips. 

"Blow the bastard ... suck it!" Leech erupted from behind the floodlights. 

Millie flinched and then opened her lips for the lunging column, fighting to 
guide it into her accommodating mouth. After one abortive attempt, she 
managed to suck the long tapered animal cock in, her lips sucking him with 
all the vigor of a human lover. Grace hardly dared to breathe! She felt as 
though she had been caught in the act of some crime when the enormity not 
only of what she was witnessing, but because she was witnessing it, struck 
her. It was just as if she were an accessory, her very silence an agreement 
to help foster this undeniably unnatural sexual act. 

"He's going to cum and soon..." Millie gasped, coming up for a gulp of air. 
The cock banged harder into her throat when she resumed her wild sucking 
motion. It seemed that the girl wanted nothing else in the world but to 
please the animal whose testicles dangled and slapped against her throat 
with an obscene but steady cadence. 

A strange masochistic hotness seethed in Grace as the goat picked up his 
pace and tried to gag the girl below her. She could sense the load building, 
the animal's sperm rallying in his balls, and then found herself wishing it 
were in her. Then suddenly, a slushy swallowing sound came from Millie, and 
she locked her hands hard around the animal's humping buttocks, pulling him 
forward and deeper into her mouth. He shivered and poked himself into Millie 
like a maniac. She choked and swallowed frantically as the goat's boiling 
cream exploded into her. Grace uttered a little cry as she saw the girl's 
cheeks fill and empty, fill and empty, thick strings of cum slavering 
obscenely down her chin and onto the girl's hard breasts. 

"Get it! Get it!" Leech screeched. "A close up ... get a shot of that cum!" 

Incited by his enthusiasm, Millie purposely dribbled more of the milky 
liquid from her lips and ran her slithery tongue over the oozing distended 
hole at the tip of the animal's cock. 

"It's your turn now," Millie whispered up to Grace as the goat stumbled 
away. "Yours is the fresh one, with a fresh load, and all you've got to do 
is spread your legs and get the wildest fuck of your life!" 

Grace Benton's eyes skittered uncertainly across the room to where the other 
animal was standing in a corner by the door. A moment later, as Millie led 
the large black goat up to the boulder. Grace could see that he was taller 
and much stockier than the other one. She watched the beast with increasing 
inner excitement and felt a new tenseness in the soft fold of her pussy. 

Then, with the same agility and cooperation that the first goat had shown, 
this one grunted and also reared to place his feet On either side of Grace's 
nearly supine torso, but higher, this time alongside her shoulders in the 
scooped out furrows. Once again, Millie knelt down and began to manipulate 
the thick hairy sheath, her long delicate fingers stimulating the animal 
almost immediately. His moist inner shaft appeared within seconds and was 
solid and long, already flexing and spurting streams of thin burning liquid 
on Grace's spread inner thighs. 

Millie nudged the goat forward a step and leaned against Grace's left leg, 
opening the helpless girl's groin even further, then with the experienced 
fingers of one hand, parted the lips of Grace's pussy to reveal-the juicy 
palpitating entrance to her hidden secrets. With her other hand, she helped 
the goat's flailing cock find a beginning purchase in the cavern, and 
stepped back. Grace groaned unashamedly as the brute's hardened animal 
member drove tempestuously into her, his balls beating with a weighty rhythm 
against her exposed rectum. She began to claw and pull the flanks closer, 
her own open vaginal slit lashing out to meet his lewd assault. She reached 
far down and clutched his swinging sacs gently, turning her face sideways to 
avoid the creature's lolling tongue. 

The cock throbbed almost painfully inside her and felt as if it were charged 
with a thousand needle sharp volts, and now she was crying and tossing even 
more wantonly, her beautiful face blotched pink with ecstasy, her eyes 
closed, head rolling, her lungs afire as she gyrated in a wild circling 
motion. 

"Fuck! Fuck hard, you bitch ... up in your belly!" Angus Leech chanted, a 
faraway gleam in his eyes, his right hand jerking up and down the length of 
his own naked penis with a frenzy. 

Grace felt the first delicious torrents of the goat's scorching white sperm 
splutter into the depths of her cunt. It surged into her like a volcanic 
outburst, violently, warming her groin and touching off her own climax with 
a mind shattering pleasure. All her feelings of humiliation and fear went up 
in the smoke of her cumming. She was not even aware of the others watching 
her, filming her indecent subjugation, her face registering lurid delight as 
she sucked with her inner muscles to absorb the last dregs of the black 
goat's hot scalding sperm. 

She sighed as he pulled out of her with a rushing, sodden sound and pivoted 
on his hind feet to land on the floor. She was covered with her own sweat, 
consumed by fatigue. A fleeing sense of loss came over her as she watched 
the departing animal's limp penis disappear into the hidden sheath. She 
stared at him for a long time, her vision still glazed with dwindling 
passion, but the ugliness of reality was returning, bringing with it 
dishonor and strong waves of dread at the thought of facing the others. She 
rose quickly and snatched up the tiger skin she had discarded while the 
blonde had been sucking off the first goat. Out of the corner of her eye, 
she caught a glimpse of Angus and the others observing her, still showing 
traces of sexual intoxication in their expressions. My God! She thought, how 
much further must she sink into filth before they were satisfied? 

But Leech had turned his attention to the photograph equipment again, and 
Millie was occupied with the goats, fastening the leashes to their studded 
collars. 

"If that's all for today, Mr. Leech, I'd like to finish dressing and leave. 
. . " She lingered a moment, expecting him to ask Millie to fetch her money. 
But no one spoke or seemed to acknowledge her presence. Finally, Angus faced 
her and shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, Grace, go. We're not keeping you." 

"But, I haven't been paid. You said yesterday that there would be a bonus." 

"Now, now," Leech returned sarcastically, "You've had your bonus, haven't 
you? It's not every afternoon that a simple housewife is fucked to her 
hearts content by such a grand animal as you've enjoyed." Winking he once 
more applied himself to the cameras. Grace's body trembled with rage and 
confusion that she had been so hatefully duped. Tears filled her eyes and 
ran in rivulets down her flaming cheeks. "No, no!" she wept. "You can't just 
use me and ... and cheat me! I'm only doing this for money!" 

His voice mellowing, Leech strode over to the distraught girl and put his 
arms around her. "Oh Grace, I was merely testing you. Of course you'll be 
paid, and handsomely, for your work today. Millie, please get the envelope. 
It's in the usual place." 

Calmed by his mollifications, Grace dressed and waited by the exit to the 
waiting room, her posture slack as she witnessed the removal of the jungle 
props from the room. 

"In case you're wondering, we're shooting phase three of a series of still 
shots this evening. There's a staggering demand for our material. We have to 
work far into the night sometimes, to keep up and then too, to fit in the 
schedules of some of our part time models." 

Then, Millie breezed in, now fully dressed and immaculately made-up and gave 
the pay envelope to Grace. 

"Don't plan on being here tomorrow, honey. We're flying to the big city to 
have a batch of film processed and distributed. So take, it easy and think 
over what you'll do with all your money. Maybe you would want to buy some 
livestock with it," she chuckled. 

"Never mind Millie," Leech sighed, his eyebrows arching to simulate his 
heavy burden of suffering," she's wonderfully efficient, but she's lacking 
in grace and discretion." 

Grace forced a smile and put the envelope into her purse. She wanted to run 
away, to disappear in thin air, and yet to somehow retain her bizarre new 
life, its adventure and danger and oddly rewarding its shame fullness. 

"Shall I come day after tomorrow, then?" she asked humbly. 

"Just follow the instructions that are in the envelope, dear," Leech 
answered, his tone still smooth but implying that he was anxious to get back 
to his work. "We'll be seeing you then." 

As Grace stood waiting for the elevator to come to rest on the ground floor, 
she felt another gush of sticky substance dampening the crotch of her 
panties. The thought crossed her mind of what a shameful thing she was doing 
and what if Richard ever found out about it. Oh well, she was making all 
that money, and he shouldn't ever learn about it. She would merely tell him 
later that she had been doing some work at home ... something like 
addressing envelopes or telephoning for some business firm. 

* * * 

Grace Benton sat with her legs crossed under a huge eiderdown, the editorial 
page of the local newspaper spread out on the table in front of her. She had 
tried several times to read it, because she wanted to read up on all of the 
news so she could discuss it with Richard. But today she found herself 
unable to concentrate at all. Instead, her mind buzzed with questions and 
dreams of what she would do with all the money she was earning. Again, she 
was wondering how she could account to Richard where and how she had gotten 
over sixteen hundred dollars in her possession. She had neglected to 
consider this point when she began her new job and if she didn't handle it 
correctly it could very well jeopardize their chance for happiness and 
security. In fact it could become a horrible nightmare and maybe end in 
divorce. Perhaps, Wanda would have some solution. 

Determined to ask her neighbor's advice, she threw off the fluffy quilt and 
went downstairs to get her raincoat from the hall closet. Stopping in front 
of the mirror by the front door, and fluffed her hair and checked to see if 
she needed any lipstick. What she saw in the reflection made her pause. Her 
face was drawn and there were the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes, 
yet there was also a newness, an almost succulent, mysterious quality in her 
young features. She looked more than ever like a real woman, a woman with 
experience, a background and a woman with a story to tell. 

The short jaunt next door had been enough to get her completely wet. It was 
pouring down rain and her feet and the front of her dress were soaked, 
making her full breasts stand out against the damp material. 

"Honey, honey, come on in! Good grief, you're sopping wet!" Wanda 
remonstrated as she helped Grace free her arms from the raincoat. "Why 
didn't you button your coat up before you left?" 

"I thought I'd make a mad dash for it. I had no idea that it was raining 
this hard. 

"Well, let's get some coffee down you. Hollie is here, and dry I might add. 
We'll all have a nice chat and catch upon the latest news," Wanda said 
merrily. "Hollie, Grace's here and is soaking! Go into the bar and get some 
bourbon for this poor lamb's coffee." 

"That would be nice," Grace giggled. 

When the three women had pulled their chairs up to the living room 
fireplace, Grace was thankful that Tom had acted upon Wanda's nagging 
suggestions that a roaring fire would keep her company while he was on the 
road. The yellow and blue flames licking upwards were comforting, and 
peaceful. Also, the spiked coffee warmed and lulled her stomach like a 
tender caress. 

"Hey, tell us what's been going on at Mr. 

Leech's studio," Hollie said with obvious eagerness. 

Wanda's face clouded as she gave the buxom girl a reproving glance. "She'll 
tell you when she's ready and not before." 

"Oh, that's all right," Grace said. "Actually, we're filming a series, a 
thing involving nature subjects, about an American housewife's return to 
nature. That type of thing." 

"Animal's too?" Hollie asked. 

"Well, yes, animals too." 

"I think I'm beginning to get the drift," Wanda said slyly. "Knowing Angus, 
I can imagine what you've been up to. Did you enjoy it?" 

"It's, just work, Wanda. Whether it's fun or not doesn't enter into it." 
Grace hesitated, then went on boldly. "I've learned a lot about myself and 
what makes me tick, so it's been more rewarding than fun." She shifted in 
her chair, her eyes narrowing to slits as she leaned closer to them, her 
manner one of great confidence. 

The generous portion of bourbon in her coffee was having its effect on her. 
"Yesterday I learned that sexual desire isn't really desire, but 
stimulation. A woman reacts to almost anything man or beast, if she is 
properly introduced to it ... Angus . ... " 

"Angus taught you!" Wanda blurted out. "He taught you how to look upon your 
body as an instrument of pleasure." 

"Of pleasure!" Hollie shouted, her own volume shocking her. "But surely you 
and Richard ... surely you get enough ... uh ... pleasure at home with your 
own husband, with Richard and uh ... being married and all." 

"Oh shit, Hollie," Wanda said with boredom, "Can't you just once, forget 
your dismally sexless ideas and listen to reason? It's no damned wonder the 
women in the neighborhood pity you, being twenty-two and still a virgin ... 
Goddammit! Go get yourself laid and I'll bet you will be less tiresome and 
be happier." 

"Wanda!" Grace cried, "She doesn't know. She's not married. You had no 
right, she is just out of her teens!" 

"Grace, please, let's go," Hollie pleaded heart-broken, tears streaming down 
her face. 

"Well, I guess we had better. Come on honey," Grace said as she held the 
crying girl and at the same time negotiated Hollie's arms into the sleeves 
of her yellow slicker. "You understand, don't you, Wanda? We'll talk it over 
later. She is just too upset now." 

"Yeah, upset. That's what I was talking about," Wanda agreed. "Tell her I'm 
sorry, though I was out of line to talk to her like that." 

Grace got into her own raincoat, shivering as she cast a smile of 
understanding to Wanda, then took Hollie's hand and prepared for the sprint 
across the mud puddles to Grace's house. 

At home, Grace settled Hollie at the kitchen table and began a frank 
explanation of Wanda's attack. "You shouldn't mind Wanda, you know. She's 
awfully liberal and hasn't any patience with anyone who isn't the same way." 

"You're saying that I'm a prude, that's it, isn't it? Oh, Grace, you don't 
know. All my life I've had a stigma and I am so ashamed of myself," she said 
pointing to her huge full breasts. "And I can't cope with it. Do they really 
talk about me like that?" 

"Oh, Hollie," Grace comforted, reaching out to pat the girl and ward off 
another outburst of tears. 

"Grace, do they ... my friends ... the women, do they really pity me?" 

"Not really. They're concerned, just as I am. But I know what you feel. I've 
gone through the very same thing and now for the first time in my life, I'm 
discovering myself, what I am and what my husband means to me." 

"You're so lucky, having Richard, a home, and such an exciting job." 

Hollie's last remark sparked an incredible thought in Grace's mind. Why not 
Hollie? Why not introduce her to Angus and pave the way to a thrilling 
future, a self sufficiency and pride in herself that the girl had never 
envisioned? Angus would doubtless consider Hollie's endowments a boom to 
himself and his business. And he might even allow the girl to work with her. 
That would tend to save her own conscience as well as provide a less 
humiliating easement for Hollie into the role she would have fill later in 
life. 

"Hollie, you may be offended by this question, but trust me when I say I'm 
asking you for your own good. Are you still a virgin?" 

The full busomed young girl flinched and sat straight up in her chair her 
face flushed a deep red. Immediately, Grace felt vile and cruel for daring 
to ask the innocent girl so personal a question, but relaxed when she sensed 
resignation flow over Hollie's features and throughout her body. 

"This will probably surprise you, Grace, but no. I've been touched, by of 
all people ... my own father! He raped me when I was fourteen and I've never 
been able to live it down. Oh, how I have ached to tell someone! Her gaze 
fell to her feet as the horrible memory assailed her again with all its 
brutal force and detail. 

Hollie sat in silence for what seemed an eternity, overcome once more by the 
terrible sense of sin she had been trying to ignore for years, since that 
awful day, now reviving in her like a chronic disease that not even time 
could heal. She remembered her mother, the perky little puritan, who held an 
unyielding belief that the sole function and purpose of sexual behavior and 
intercourse was soley procreation. Her father, a stubborn, hard drinking, 
rogue, who had one day taken her like a common whore on the bed in her 
mother's room. He had even offered her money to keep quiet afterwards. Then, 
she had joined the church and become active in social affairs, in the choir, 
anything to make up for her guilt and keep out of range of all men. Men, she 
was convinced, were hellish beasts intent on using her plush body to satiate 
themselves. 

"Hollie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry into your past. I merely wanted to 
help you." Grace regretted what had previously been her catty, uncharitable 
attitude toward the tortured girl. Rising, she filled their coffee cups, 
racking her brain for a diplomatic way to introduce the subject of Angus 
Leech. 

Solving the problem, Hollie continued. "If only I could do something useful, 
like you, and maybe meet the right man. Someone who was wise and capable, 
someone to help me work out my fears and help me to be a human being again." 

"I might be able to arrange an interview with Mr. Leech," Grace said 
tentatively, her eyes searching Hollie's face for some kind of a reaction. 
"One thing I can promise, you'll meet some men. But I'm not scheduled to see 
him again until tomorrow." 

"Oh, Grace, could you!" Asked Hollie, a burst of gaiety lighting her usually 
sad eyes. "I'd be so grateful to you!" 

"I'll work out something, don't worry." 

Later, after Hollie had left, Grace felt like a wicked demon for having 
encouraged her to meet Angus Leech and begin what would surely be the most 
traumatic phase of her life. And yet, why not?" Hollie was single, lonely, 
anxious to work out her problems and have what Wanda so often called, "fun". 

* * * 

That days filming at the studio had been nothing compared to the first day. 
Grace had simply been asked to undress and pose alone in the nude. For that 
matter, she had surprisingly enjoyed striking the provocative poses Leech 
wanted for a series of still shots. Nor had she been upset when her employer 
staged her holding a rubber replica of a fat snake inches from her vagina. 
Only the close-ups of her widespread pubic region had seemed improper and 
debasing to her. Grace had also been directed to sit on a dark green easy 
chair with her legs spread wide apart as she squeezed her thrusting ivory 
breasts tightly together in a gesture of offering to the cameras. 

She had mentioned Hollie to Angus Leech, assuring him that he would be quite 
pleased with the girl's ripe figure and willingness to further the case of 
social enlightenment. Would he be willing to give her young neighbor a try? 

Leech had been more than interested, especially when he heard her candid 
description of Hollie's large breasts, and remarked that he had been 
contemplating having a party anyway, particularly since his trip to the city 
had been so profitable. Then, in his charming, bewitching manner, he had 
made a generous offer to sponsor a-party at her house. That way, he 
explained, he would casually meet Hollie and provide his "associates" with 
some distraction. Would tonight be too soon to have it? Grace thought for a 
minute, worrying about Richard's response to such an idea, then finally she 
said it would be fine with her. 

Having enlisted Wanda's aid in the preparation of imagine dishes, for a 
buffet, she was rereading the guest list to determine if she had forgotten 
to invite anyone. Leech had said he would handle invitations to his friends 
and had included enough extra money in the envelope to pay for a spectacular 
shindig. Richard had not been overjoyed when she breached the subject over 
the phone, but had finally agreed when she swore that "one of Wanda's 
friends" were footing the bill. Lying, she had gone on to say that the 
friend's apartment was inadequate to handle forty people, and that Wanda had 
begged her to ask him if it would be all right. Wanda had complied with the 
white lie and promised to back her all the way. And Hollie had sounded all 
excited and passionately anxious to meet the famous Angus Leech. 

Still, though, Grace would not shake loose the feeling that her intervention 
on Hollie's behalf might turn out to be a huge disaster. She struggled with 
the notion that she had no moral right to steer the naive young girl into a 
situation that could expose her to more shame and compromising depravity 
than she had known at the hands of her lust driven brute of a father. But 
the girl had faced reality, just as she had less than one week ago. Grace 
rationalized, tossing off her doubts as she began to think what she would 
wear that evening. It had to be something exciting. The hell with Richard 
and his old fashioned tastes! 

Grace Benton experienced a tremorous thrill as she recalled Leech's saying 
that Irish would be coming. She grappled with the feeling, arguing to 
herself that the boisterous man was cruel and quite obviously self 
indulgent. She remembered with coarse unwanted delight how he had used her 
prostate body, obediently following Leech's demands and taking turns with 
the other man as they had plied her defenseless bodily openings to satisfy 
their own selfish sexual needs. Also, Leech had cautioned her, Millie would 
be there, wearing a "special" costume, and would be more than willing to 
help serve drinks and "entertain". . 

"Grace, where are you?" 

"In here, Wanda in the bathroom. Come on in." 

"Wow, what are you going in here, fully dressed and with the telephone too?" 

"I know it's silly," Grace laughed. "It's just that I've been doing a lot of 
thinking in bathrooms since I've grown up. It's easier somehow. But hey, 
what's the matter? I thought you'd be home whipping up gallons of intriguing 
food and making ready to seduce every male in sight." 

"Don't trouble yourself about my outfit for tonight. Believe me I'll mange, 
baby. As for the food, things they're ready and waiting. I just came over to 
add an extra something to the punch we made." 

Holding up three bottles filled with thick green liquid she said, "It's some 
stuff that Tom was lucky enough to buy from one of his hornier clients. Just 
blend it with the other stuff. I can guarantee its beneficial effects, that 
it'll make everyone happier, and a helluva lot looser, and less like 
Richard, who'll probably waste the whole evening just talking and frowning." 

"Gee, thanks, I'll mix it in, if you're really certain that it's all right. 
But please, come a little early, won't you? I'm altogether too rattled to 
think of everything myself tonight. Do you know, that in all the three years 
we've been married, this will be the first big party we've had?" 

"Yes, but don't you worry. I'll help set up things for you. Just don't 
forget the green stuff that's all. And you'd better do it when your nervous 
husband's not watching, lest he decide to pour it out to protect his 
chastity." 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

The party had already fulfilled Grace's wildest expectations. People were 
eating, drinking, lavishing compliments on her for her imagination in 
bringing together such an interesting group. A band that Angus had hired was 
in the living room, drinking and chatting freely with the guest between 
numbers. In the kitchen, between the breakfast table and the refrigerator, 
Irish stood swaying, nominating everyone in sight as a potential candidate 
for a role in some howlingly funny movie plot he had dreamt up to charm 
anyone who would listen to him. Hardly anyone paid attention, though, which 
little daunted him, and he pursued the farce with real authority and spirit. 
Grace promised herself that she would draw aside her drunken colleague, and 
persuade him to be ribald and more a friendly contributor to the genial 
atmosphere of the party. Then, wandering back into the living room, Grace 
checked a cry when she saw Millie serving cocktails in her special hostess 
costume. 

The languid blonde wore only a skimpy short skirt, very high heels, and 
nothing above that! Her snowly breasts jiggled and jumped as she moved 
casually from person to person, bending over to thrust her cherry tipped 
nipples in the face of those who held out only half empty glasses to be 
refilled. 

Grace quickly ran through the guest list in her mind, terrified that 
Richard's boss and several of his coworkers would be insulted and thwart him 
when he applied for the advance in the position he wanted. Then, coming to 
the rescue, Leech rose from a dark corner and announced, "The young lady you 
see refilling your glasses is my most valuable employee. Her key function in 
life is to please. If anyone had the profoundly bad taste to disagree, pity 
the person," said the slightly tight director. Then added, to enforce his 
admonishment, "My precious Millie can't tolerate men without push enough to 
assert themselves as men." 

A cheer went up from everyone, including Richard's co-workers. Wanda 
regarded Leech through slitted eyes, inhaling the brazen hussy's cheap 
perfume with disgust as her glass was replenished with the potent drink. Her 
roving gaze met Richard's and seemed to meld with an unspoken rapport as 
they condemned the girl and the speech with their eyes. Richard lifted 
himself from the wall he had been leaning against and crossed the room to 
squeeze down on the couch beside Wanda. He could not help but notice his 
sexy neighbor's low cut neckline. Her dress, a clinging velvet model that 
hugged her slim erotic thighs like an extra skin. He rebuked himself for 
thanking the circumstances that kept Tom away from home so much. 

"Richard, love, I think you're having a bit of fun for a change, if it's not 
a mirage," Wanda said coyly, her voice throaty and suggestive, a flirting 
gleam in her eyes. 

"Can't complain," Richard countered with unusual boldness. "But who's that 
half naked woman, the racy waitress your friend Leech has been praising? 
Damned if I'd mind getting her into the sack myself! She's beautiful. And so 
are you if you don't mind my saying so. No kidding, you are!" 

"Well, well, well," Wanda purred as she stretched lazily to show off her 
lithe form to its best advantage. "Now what would your sweet little wife say 
if she heard you carrying on like this?" 

"Nothing, not a damned thing! Grace's too shallow to know about these 
matters. But you, you're different. I'd bet a days pay that you're aren't a 
bit like her." Richard downed the remainder of his drink to climax as well 
as excuse the rashness of his blunt statement. 

"You will never know at the rate you've been going," Wanda taunted while she 
looked cursorily about the room, satisfying herself that no one was aware of 
what was happening between them. Only Rita Martin had been watching, but 
turned briskly away to endorse what seemed to her a promising intimacy in 
the making. 

Richard leaned closer to Wanda and, taking her off guard, planted a wet 
passionate kiss on her mouth. After the initial shock, that her neighbor's 
abnormally pure husband would venture such an act, Wanda returned his kiss, 
pressing her luxurious body against him with an urgency and boldness that 
would surely frighten him back to the safety of his servile little wife. 
Wanda thought how fun it might be to tempt this proper, self righteous, 
half-man, half-mouse to try something with her. After all, he had had three 
or more drinks already, enough, she decided, to spark his manhood into 
action, if he had any! 

Richard,Benton seemed to sense Wanda's sudden availability. He pressed 
forward to kiss her again, this time allowing his free hand to rove 
tentatively along her slim shoulders and down daringly close to the exposed 
upper expanse of her full, rounded breasts. A chill and pleasant warmth 
passed through her, and she squirmed her beautifully rounded buttocks deeper 
into the cushion and tighter against his slim male hip. Her panties were 
dampening with the wetness of sexual arousal, and she squeezed her thighs 
together in a vain attempt to check the tingling sensations beginning to 
grow down there. She was on dangerous ground, and knew it, but felt certain 
that she could tackle just about anything the poor idiot might do. 

"Why don't we go somewhere, anywhere, out of the living room?" Richard 
proposed huskily. Wanda felt the hardness of his penis drilling into her 
thigh, a sure sign that her game was working. 

"Of course, Richard, why don't we talk in the bedroom?" She lowered her 
head, smirking to herself and reveling in her power to taunt and control 
him, to push the game to its limit, a hair breath this side of danger, and 
prove beyond a doubt her mastery in using him at will. 

"That's a great idea," Richard decided, taking her hand and resolutely 
clearing a path for them as they cut through the milling crowd of guests in 
the hallway and crossing in front of them from room to room. Wanda was 
positive that at any second he would turn sheepishly and say, "Okay, okay, 
you've bluffed me out," so she followed him with an attitude of docility as 
she planned a new strategy to further her superiority of him. "Would you 
like to pick up a couple of those drinks on the way?" Richard asked, 
detouring into the kitchen without waiting for her approval. 

"Go ahead, if you need courage. I'm fine myself," Wanda deliberately teased 
him. She sidled up to him, her arms folded into her chest in an imitation of 
sweetness, while with the toe of her shoe she sawed suggestively at 
Richard's calf. 

"You're hot, aren't you neighbor lady? But maybe it's all fake, you know, 
the liberated woman out to get her share of the goodies too. Am I right?" 

"Maybe, maybe, you're right. But how would you know, one way or the other?" 

She pressured, more than ever enjoying his discomfort and the fact that he 
stood with his back to the others to shield the thrusting erection showing 
in his slacks. 

"Try me," Richard braved. Then, taking her hand more possessively than 
before, he practically jerked her off her feet to lead her again into the 
crowded corridor leading to the stairs and the bedroom. 

He is actually going to take me in there, Wanda thought with amusement, but 
watch him run like a scared rabbit when I come on a little. Only the ebb and 
flow of a quivering pulse of anticipation, a feeling not part of the game, 
troubled her, as Richard pulled her into the bedroom. Her feeling of power 
lessened when he closed and locked the door, stripping off his jacket as he 
adjusted the little lamps on the night stands, on either side of the head of 
the bed, to a softer light. Then, he wordlessly crushed her to him, almost 
painfully grinding his mouth on hers, thrusting his tongue into her mouth 
and greedily sucking at hers. 

Wanda shuddered from the stimulation that being involved in something 
forbidden gives a person, despite her fondness and the ironic kind of 
loyalty she felt for Grace. She still was not threatened and believed that 
she was capable any time of putting his hot breathed immature man in his 
proper place. She sighed as though unmoved and at the end of tolerating his 
increasingly reckless caresses. She walked easily to the bed, her casualness 
designed to insult him with indifference. But Richard misunderstood her 
intention and immediately stretched out beside her. Her act had been to him 
one of consent, a shameless invitation to touch and fondle her as much as he 
wanted to. He was raging inside, his cock beating with every breath, his 
balls nestling like rocks ready to erupt their load into her. 

Wanda gasped at the change coming over her as he worked his trembling eager 
hand up under her clinging dress and gently petted her soft inner thighs. 
She felt tiny delicious contractions in the tiny bud of her clitoris and 
began gradually to give way to the wild incoherent emotions shooting 
relentlessly through her yearning body. 

Richard's agitation was building higher and hotter, urging him to rotate and 
press his seething loins cruelly against hers, while his shaking hand tore 
at the soft material covering her full rope breasts. Freeing them at last, 
he shoved himself fully upon her and nibbled and bit her hard brown nipples 
until the slim girl groaned and writhed, her own hands circling one tip at a 
time to form a taut mound to make it more available to Richard's mouth. 
Sucking and biting at her, he ripped open his pants and kicked them free 
from his body. Then he placed his hand under her undulating back, lifting 
her an inch or so as he slipped her already disheveled dress up to the 
inhibiting mounds he had just stopped sucking. 

"God, are you really going to? Really?" she moaned, choking on the thickness 
of her own lusting emotions. 

To show her he really was, Richard lifted her dress off her head and still 
kneading her heaving breasts, dragged her sheer, nylon panties down over her 
hips to her knees. His body lurched ahead, his hairy male body covering her 
from head to toe, and then he placed his own knees inside hers and forced 
them widely apart. With an inhuman cry, she kicked her legs back and forth 
lasciviously, bending back her legs impossibly to accommodate the rigid cock 
about to fuck into her and stretch her warm pulsating cuntal passage beyond 
her wildest dreams. 

God almighty, it was a big one! And to think, that to her, Richard had 
seemed such a helpless little boy! He sensed that there was not one iota of 
resistance left in her and pushed the thick elastic head of his cock against 
the sensitive moist lips of her open pussy. She was pinned to the mattress 
under his weight. The scalding hot throb in her stomach screamed for release 
from its agonies. Nothing mattered to her now but to swallow the entire 
length of his throbbing penis into her moist vagina. 

"Oh please," she moaned, her voice rising to a shriek, "Fuck me, fuck me 
with your cock! Hurry!" 

Richard's mouth twisted into a crazy smile as he ground his pelvis up to her 
buttocks and with one merciless lunge parted the soft pubic hair and plunged 
into her hungry cunt. Inch by inch, he buried himself deeper into her 
tightly clasping vaginal cavity, until at last she had accepted all of his 
hard, throbbing male organ up to the hilt. Low hums of pleasurable servile 
abandon came in torrents from deep in her throat. Her face was contorted 
with lust, with her nostrils flaring and a light sweat beading her forehead 
and Wanda was wild with a passion she had never believed possible with this 
man. Richard was some lover! 

The wet sucking sound of their union joined in harmony with the smack of his 
sperm filled balls against her nakedly unprotected anus. He slaved above 
her, occasionally changing his rhythm from short fast penetrations to long 
smooth strokes that brought his huge cock almost all the way out of her 
clasping vagina on the backstroke and then in again until she could feel his 
pelvic bone crunching on her. 

He grinned again, thinking to himself of the beautiful humiliation she would 
feel as he slipped his hand under her smooth satiny buttocks and worked a 
finger back and forth across her defensively puckered anus. It was delicate 
and warm, and he would feel it bucking away from his touch as she ground 
wildly up against his loins. His passion out of control, he jammed into the 
tender rubbery flesh of her hair-lined pussy with two fingers. 

"God, Noooooo!" she moaned, her hips involuntarily leaping upwards to escape 
the painful intrusion into her rectum, yet serving only to drive Richard's 
gigantic penis further into her than before. Then he plunged his fingers 
still deeper, spreading them to widen even more the no longer virginal 
nether throat of her straining rectum. 

Slowly, Wanda's whimpering protestations subsided and changed gradually to 
cries of excitement as her anus became accustomed to the strange invasion. 
She was impaled like a slave between his thick cock slamming into her 
ravaged vagina and his two fingers worming salaciously into her obscenely 
stretched anal passage. 

Wanda's gorgeous face was unrecognizable, a mask of feature contorting 
animal joy and he felt satisfaction in taking her like this ... off her high 
horse, while he fucked her with the hardened cock she had seemed to be dying 
for since he had known her. He quickened his strokes, burning and throbbing 
and deep, as she thrashed now beneath him like a dog. She was close now, he 
could feel it coursing deep in her belly and along her wide spread thighs. 
Her breasts were rosy and firm under his jerking weight, the erect nipples 
being crushed against his muscular chest. 

"Oh God! Oh Christ! I'm making it, I'm cumming, cummmmmming!" Wanda shivered 
and began to flail under him, her skewered cunt throbbing and opening like a 
tiny fishes mouth around his plunging cock. He banged harder and faster, 
smashing between her flailing legs like a berserk man. His own orgasm had 
arrived like a deluge of unexpected lava trying to escape all at once 
through the small aperture at the tip of his swelling cock. He arched his 
back and delivered one hard desperate thrust to spill his milky white 
seminal fluid far up into her belly. Their juices mixed inside, a pool of 
sticky hot cum. 

"That was wonderful! Wonderful!" Wanda said, her words made unclear by her 
gasping breath. Her legs had fallen limp on either side of his still heaving 
body. She was totally exhausted but strangely she was fulfilled as she had 
never been before but finally remembering where she was and that it was her 
best friends husband who had just made love to her. He continued to move the 
fingers in her rectum just enough to make her grind down against them, and 
she hoped he would keep them trapped there for a few more moments. Wondering 
how long they had been away from the party, she tapped him on the shoulder 
and said, "I think it's about time we got out of here and joined the others, 
d.on't you?" 

"I guess I'd better disengage myself first, unless you're up to trotting in 
there all plugged up," Richard straightened up on his knees, still bending 
his upper torso over her while he withdrew his fingers from her rectum. 
Then, he pulled his deflating penis slowly out of Wanda's open wet pussy 
with a whooshing sound, and a cool rush of air filled her where he had 
worked them both to a thrilling climax a moment before. 

"If this always happens when you have a party, Richard, I think you should 
have them more often," she said while preparing herself to meet the crowd of 
people outside the bedroom door. 

"You know, we don't have to wait for a party to do this? Grace has no idea 
about us. Besides, I've heard through Hollie that Grace has some kind of 
afternoon job and she would never find out. I could take my lunch hour 
around two o'clock and we..." 

"And you'd sneak home for a quickie with old Wanda, is that what you want to 
say? Well, you never can tell, I just might get horny again. But I doubt it, 
not after this, not for a while anyway." 

Satisfied that they both looked presentable they left the bedroom and tried 
to blend inconspicuously into the guests again. They had no trouble because 
everyone was drinking the punch freely and the band was playing some heavy 
rock music drowning out most of the voices. 

Grace spied Wanda and hurried over to her. "Thank heavens, here you are! 
I've been looking all over for you. I need you to help me meet the 
emergencies! The first thing," Grace sighed, "we're running out of punch. 
Not that they need another drop! God! You should see them, undressing in 
front of the group, peering down dresses and talking as though filthy 
language were in vogue. What shall I do! 

"It's a party isn't it, honey? Let them get their kicks." Wanda winked, "As 
for the booze, send out for more and in the meantime, I'll try to think up 
some lie to explain stealing the last two bottles of Tom's reserve, the 
chache he thinks I don't know anything about. See you in a minute." 

Grace braced herself and retreated to the bedroom to telephone the liquor 
store, checking the money in her bra with a reassuring pat. When she burst 
into the bedroom and flicked on the light, she jumped in fright at the sight 
of Rita Martin and Irish both naked and slamming obscenely against each 
other on the bed. 

"Oh dear, excuse me! I wanted to use the telephone to call for more liquor 
... we are out ... Oh, I am sorry!" Grace said, tears of embarrassment in 
her eyes. 

"Hell, lady, don't worry a bit," Irish said without missing a single stroke 
of his spearing into Rita's willing vagina. "We're good friends ... maybe 
more, and throwing a good fuck into your nice neighbor here is the best way 
in the world to introduce us." 

Grace started to say something else but decided not to when she saw him 
begin another attack of punishing thrusts into the groaning and twisting 
Rita. 

A few feet out of the door, she ran headlong into Angus Leech. He seemed 
more sober, more his handsome, deceitful self, although she saw that his 
lips were pursed in an odd smile, unusual even for him. He seemed to be 
inflamed by the activity around him, even drugged by it. 

"Dear, you beautiful thing, where's this super young girl you've told me 
about? Go and get her at once!" Despite Leech's feigned imperiousness, Grace 
noticed a tone of wrought up sincerity in his voice. 

"Gosh, Angus, I've been too busy in the kitchen to keep track of her, or 
anybody for that matter. But just as soon as I take care of getting a new 
supply of liquor, I'll find her and introduce you. By the way, have you seen 
my husband, Richard?" 

Before Angus Leech could answer, Richard approached them, his manner of 
walking was certain proof that he was slightly more than tight. In fact, he 
was on the verge of being stone drunk. Her heart fell when she realized his 
condition, there was no way he could possibly drive to the liquor store with 
her. 

"Whass matter, honey?" He managed to slur through thick lips, the very 
effort of speaking causing him to momentarily lose his balance. "All 'us 
wanta 'nother drink ... and here ya are juss talkin'. . . " 

Coming to the rescue again, Angus broke in with a suggestion. "By God, I'm 
thirsty too! So why don't I send one of my staff to buy the ingredients that 
goes into that lovely punch that you make, Grace?" 

"Oh thank you, Angus." Grace smiled, her glance darting to Richard to 
determine if he had caught her using his first name. But Richard was too 
preoccupied with keeping his balance to perceive any familiarity between his 
wife and Angus Leech. 

"Okay then, I'll be in the kitchen, when you can find someone to go," said 
Grace as she hurried off. 

"Hmmmmmm, now where is that damn Irish?" Angus wondered aloud as he moved 
off to find him. 

Moments later, Irish slapped Grace familiarly on the buttocks as he came 
into the kitchen. "Boss says I'm supposed to drive you to the store for more 
booze. Are you ready?" Although she knew he was drunk, was always drunk, she 
couldn't believe the clarity of his voice, the steadiness of his step as he 
escorted her down the steps to the front door. As they were leaving, Grace 
cringed at the sight of Richard stumbling drunkenly upstairs. His fly was 
open, his hair messy, and he looked like a wreck. As he climbed, he was 
lurching and weaving and she was instantly overcome with compassion for him. 

"Richard, are you okay?" she asked tenderly. 

"You're damn right, sweetie," the intoxicated man mumbled, straightening up 
to verify his statement. 

"Oh, good, but why don't you go find Wanda and keep her company? We'll be 
back in a few minutes, we're just going to the liquor store. See you later, 
darling." 

Speeding up the block in the sports car, Grace sighed in relief and turned 
to Irish who was at the wheel. "It might have been easier to give you the 
directions and avoid all the hell I'll get from my husband when I get home. 
I've never seen him this drunk before." 

"I wouldn't worry about it one bit, honey. He's not as drunk as he is tired. 
I'd be the same way if I'd fucked that long legged gal in the sexy low cut 
dress like he did. Why..." 

"What do you mean ... what 'gal' are you talking about?" Grace asked 
menacingly, the ominous tone of her voice surprising her as much as her 
companion. He did not reply but instead, tromped down on the accelerator, 
causing the powerful car to sink lower, then jump ahead with a boost of 
energy that threw Grace against the leather seat. Despite her consternation, 
the beautiful drone of the engine was music to her ears. 

"You know that tall broad, your foxy neighbor ... she and your husband were 
awfully cozy in the living room before ... then they just disappeared into 
thin air." Irish was silent again, intent as he skidded the car around the 
corner that Grace had directed him to take. Again in perfect control, he 
continued. "You mean to say you're pissed because your safe little hubby 
gets a little on the side, uh? Shit, I'd screw that bitch myself, but I'm 
more interested in that young piece of tail with the fantastic boobs. What's 
her name?" 

"Do you mean Hollie?" Grace said, barely audible. 

"Yeah, that must be the one. Can you fix me up?" 

"I doubt it, I doubt ... Oh ... I doubt everything!" 

They drove on without speaking, each lost in their own thoughts. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

The guests were now grouping in little bunches, after having drunk more of 
the sexually exciting punch, and were beginning to seriously discuss and in 
some instances, explore one another's physical assets. Grace had located and 
introduced Hollie to Angus Leech, who was typically charming as usual, and 
confident as he guided the voluptuous girl through the swarm of excited 
guests toward a relatively unpeopled corner next to the living room window. 
It was the only place in the room where they might find some semblance of 
privacy. 

"Before I say a word, let me at least tell you that I recognize your rare 
sort of sweetness, that you seem a she-devil and an angel at the same time. 
You can't imagine how grateful I am to Grace for introducing us." Breathing 
laboriously, he let his eyes roam ravenously on Hollie's throat, just above 
the ballooning bulge of her huge round breasts. 

"I'm glad," she said shyly. The situation was embarrassing her, taking its 
toll on her composure. Her full breasts were rising, threatening to burst 
into view and endorse her discomfort, the womanhood she had tried to ignore 
and conceal. "Grace, my friend, has tried to help me face things, and she 
said you could teach me to help people and so..." 

"And exploit your exquisite physical attributes," Angus finished. "I think 
you're quite able to help, except," he said pausing briefly, "for what 
experience warns me, must be a crippling ignorance on our part towards the 
truth and honesty among people." He inhaled slowly, to dramatize his point, 
and sipped slowly and thoughtfully on his drink, an almost defeated look on 
his face. 

Unable to endure his implication, Hollie snatched up his glass and downed 
most of his potent cocktail in great gulps, the biting liquid making her gag 
and cough. Bravely, though, she tilted the glass up again, this time 
emptying its contents. A lovely glow came over her, centering mostly in her 
stomach but extending up along her ribs to her massive breasts. He watched 
her with delight as her expression softened, sweetening to innocence as 
though a benevolent spirit had entered her and touched her soul with some 
kind of magic. Nor did she object when he slipped his arm around her 
shoulder, drawing her up to him until her left breast was flattened against 
the side of his chest. She blushed slightly when squirming her buttocks 
deliciously to find a more comfortable position, the edge of the couch 
brushed electrically against the soft folds of her pussy lips, sending a 
sudden charge of warm pleasure up her vaginal opening and into the pit of 
her belly. 

"Say," Hollie asked, "would you mind getting me another drink. I wouldn't 
mind having one all to myself. Thanks." 

Angus started for the kitchen, anxious to have her try some more punch, it 
would suit him fine ... when he ran into one of the guests. He seemed to be 
a good friend and after talking for a moment they both moved off to another 
part of the house ... Hollie was chest fallen, thinking that Angus had lost 
interest in her. About the time she had thought of an excuse to leave the 
party, a man's voice cut into her thoughts. 

"Here you go, drink this and it will cheer you up," Irish smiled, giving her 
a glass filled with the potent punch. "This is more practical having a big 
glass, than to keep running to the kitchen to fill up. I always find the 
biggest one around and then I can sit most of the evening without refills 
... I was watching you from the other part of the room and saw Angus run out 
on you. Well, don't let it bother you one bit." Irish said and promptly made 
himself comfortable in the spot next to her that Angus had just vacated. The 
big man then thrust forward his own tall glass in the manner of a toast. 
"Let's drink to everlasting friendship, okay? That sounds as good as any 
toast, doesn't it?" 

Hollie found herself liking this peculiarly handsome stranger, the carefree 
way he spoke and he tossed off his drink as though it were plain water. Yet, 
she also sensed an intelligent, highly emotional quality in his youthful but 
lined face. 

"What do you do for a living?" she asked feeling she shouldn't have asked 
such an absurd question. 

"Sure, you may. I make most of my money," he said in mock seriousness, "by 
being first, a gun runner, and then a mercenary in Africa, I've done some 
spying on the side, and oh, yes, I push drugs to the local school kids. My 
good points, hmmm, let's see ... I donate my time to helping young ladies 
and I've loaned a sizable fortune to one of the richest men in the country 
... just to get him started in the business world and..." 

"Stop! Oh please stop ... this instant!" Hollie giggled bursting with 
laughter at this insane man. Burying her face in his muscular shoulder to 
stifle her giggles, she reached up to muffle his mouth with her hand. 

After their laughter was spent and neither of them had the strength left for 
more than an occasional snicker, they permitted their eyes to meet and found 
that there was something more serious there. The exotic drinks, combined 
with her new found friend's casualness and the erotic turn the party was 
taking around her, disposed the young girl to an attitude of all out 
adventure. 

Smiling, she cuddled up to his muscular shoulder and pointed to the members 
of the small band who had taken off their shirts and were now playing 
independently among the guests in the room. Some of the prettier women were 
dancing by themselves, swaying suggestively to the primitive beat of the 
music. 

Suddenly, Hollie turned to her companion and asked, "Hey! What's your name, 
anyway? How do I know that you're not really a spy?" 

"Ah ha! I did forget, my name is Irish ... just Irish," he said, wrestling 
her in for a hug to reward his simple direct answer. She relaxed closer, her 
spectacular chest pressing firmly into his. Then he kissed her lingeringly 
on the mouth and then dropped one hand to rest warmly on her knee. She's a 
hot little girl, he thought, moving his hand carefully up to the hem on her 
skirt. He fully relaxed the arm around her shoulders while kissing her neck 
and draped his hand on the upper swell of her full breasts. The thought that 
he was going to really score with her excited him and he began to massage 
the tip of her breast with his fingertips. 

She was not resisting at all. Instead, she seemed to regard this gesture 
almost as a casual thing, an understanding between them, and she drank her 
full glass of punch down slowly as he caressed her. While she seemed to be 
basking in his advances, he excused himself on the pretense of finding some 
more to drink, making his way through the crowd. 

He was looking for Wanda and found her in the den that was adjacent to the 
kitchen. She was dancing with a skinny, older man who wore only a pair of 
red boxer shorts that were patterned with small white flowers. Her eyes were 
glazed, faraway, and she threw her hips forward as if aiming them directly 
toward the skinny man's pelvis. 

"Wanda, can you spare a minute, I want to talk to you?" Irish broke into her 
dream world. 

"Sure, big boy, what's on your mind. I think that I already know, but first 
I'd like you to meet Duke Boyd." She said. "This handsome man works with 
Richard and says he wants to 'roll me' a term I'm sure he learned years ago 
in school." Duke agreed with a drunken grin and advanced on Wanda, his cock 
causing his shorts to bulge in the front. 

"Hang on a minute there, man, I'd like to see the lady here, alone, before 
your unprecedented sexiness bowls her off her feet." He grinned as he drug 
her to the nearest corner. "Jesus, are you that hard up? But listen, I'm 
going to fuck that sweet young gal with the big boobs, and I'm thinking this 
might be the best place right here. So, would you mind taking your big bull 
and screwing somewhere that poor little innocent girl can't see." 

"What's in it for me," Wanda asked teasingly. 

"Man, you've already fucked Grace's husband to a frazzle, and now you've got 
little imagine pants all hot and ready. Shit, lady, save something for the 
other girls here at this party." 

Wanda smiled wickedly to herself as the broad shouldered man passed out of 
the room and into the kitchen, where he delayed long enough to find two more 
glasses to fill with punch. When he returned to the couch, Hollie was 
sitting just where he had left her. Now, however, her gestures and overall 
appearance indicated that she was even drunker and less than ever in control 
of herself. He took her hand and led her unsteadily to the kitchen and then 
into the dimly lit den. There, he gently urged her to sit with him on the 
floor. He handed her the two glasses to hold while he removed his jacket. 

Hollie studied his face admiringly, cherishing his every move and wondering 
what such a clever, well built man, and gentle writer he had said, could 
possibly see in her. She must be in love, she decided, because no other man, 
real or imaginary, had so warmed and awakened her sensually. Her breasts 
pulsed in time with her heart beat, the nipples becoming unbearably hard and 
itching to be touched by him. 

He kissed her again, almost too tenderly to fill her craving for his mouth. 
Then he kissed her again and again, each contact more demanding and harder 
and forcing her toward the floor. When they were stretched out full length 
beside each other, he nipped her ear and renewed his seductive explorations 
of her billowy heaving bosom. She stiffened as he seized one of the tingling 
pink nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling and pinching it to 
shoot arrows of pleasure and pain along her quivering nerves. She was 
vaguely astonished by what he was doing, but she lay quietly savoring the 
titillating fondling of her sensitive breasts. His hand moved down on her 
thigh again, his fingers lightly tracing the silky inner flesh as they 
worked up beyond the top of her nylons to within an inch or so of her 
moistening cuntal opening. 

"Relax, your legs a little. Open them!" Irish breathed softly into her ear. 
Moving his hands up a fraction on her thigh as he said the words. 

"I can't. I really shouldn't," she moaned even as she felt her thighs 
yielding to make herself more vulnerable. He ran his middle finger over the 
lips of her tightly closed vaginal slit and felt the sticky wetness of her 
nylon panties. With his other hand he was working steadily at the buttons of 
her blouse, opening them one by one, kissing each new exposure of her 
cleavage and at the same time cautiously slipping her bra straps off her 
shoulders. Protesting, she strained closer to him, her mind seemed to be 
fighting a losing battle with her body. She was aware of the hardness of his 
penis digging into her outer thigh as his hips rocked, frightening but 
exciting her to delirious heights of sexual desire. 

"I love you, I love you! Oh, I love you!" 

He responded by ripping open her blouse to the waist and jerking off her bra 
to fully reveal the full white spheres that had been driving him out of his 
mind all evening. With a basic animal moan he leaned over her and began to 
suck and bite voraciously at the stiff, light colored nipples. When she 
tried vainly to escape the sudden invasion of her purity, he wormed a hand 
under her buttocks and pulled at the moistened crotch of her panties until 
they gave way. 

"Not this way! Oh please, no!" she cried. Shifting his weight on her to pin 
her flat, he parted the fine pubic hairs lining her pussy and slid one 
finger into her cuntal passage. As he closed his mouth over hers, he rolled 
the thrashing girl onto her side and removed the remaining shreds of her 
blouse and bra. Moving her then to the other side, he stripped away the last 
of her garments and yanked her skirt down over her legs and ankles and 
finally they were completely free of her body. 

When his finger inched deeper into her helpless cunt, she gasped and 
whimpered for him to show her some mercy, but he continued slowly and 
expertly insinuating into her with his finger in an effort to loosen her 
preparation for the plunge of his huge cock. There was no escape for Hollie, 
so she lay back to experience fear and humiliation change to one of divine 
ecstasy. Her hands were tangled in his long brown hair, as she pulled his 
head greedily to her huge breasts. 

Hollie began to sway and move with his motions as he grated his cock against 
her pubic hair, removing his hand to grip her hip and regulate her motions 
with his. His thick lusting rod rubbed teasingly over her clitoris, the 
oozing head grinding further and further into the wet flanges of her pussy 
until it began to spread the resisting ring of her almost virginal pussy. 
Nothing in the world had seemed so good, so all consuming to her in her 
whole life, and she wished suddenly that he would end her agony of longing 
and fill her desperately tingling pussy for good. Then, in her vagina, there 
was a feeling of being stretched beyond endurance and she could feel his 
long hard throbbing cock slide into her soft interior like a moving snake. 
All of his weight seemed to push into her groin, imbedding him in her 
brutally, sending unwanted tinges of exquisite sensuality through her entire 
being. 

She began to undulate her body under his, levering herself on her elbows in 
order to meet his crushing lunges and bury the beautiful male cock into her 
as far as he could penetrate. 

"Deeper! Deeper, please!" she screamed, urging him to fuck her even faster 
and harder. He gritted his teeth and began to plunge in and out of her with 
wild, driving thrusts that bowed his body grotesquely at the peak of the 
in-stroke. He held on to the cheeks of her ass with all the strength he 
could manage, his fingers clawing into her, hurting her, as she tried 
furiously to keep up the same wild fucking movements. 

Hollie did not realize that others were in the room, nor did she notice the 
overhead lights were on. Wanda had turned them on when she was certain that 
the impassioned young woman was beyond seeing any change around her. The 
guests that were crowded at the door and particularly the ones who had 
positioned themselves closer to the frantically fucking couple were so 
engrossed in viewing this fascinating performance to talk or create any 
distracting disturbance. One couple, neighbors of Grace and Wanda's was 
kneeling within a foot of Hollie's head, their eyes glued to the pairs 
heated writhing as though in a spell. Her arms around the naked waists of 
two men, Wanda leaned back on the wall to the side of the door way, gazing 
intently on Hollie's unseeing, shut eyes. Angus, with his cock out, stood 
nearby, jerking it off like a lunatic as his own eyes took in the show and 
tried simultaneously to absorb the expressions of everyone crowded into the 
room. 

Unaware of the audience, Hollie twitched and bucked uncontrollably as she 
encouraged her lover and at the same time relishing the pumping, punishing 
penis's ramming against her cervix. The man's lust was reaching its peak, 
tiny pains of fire boiling in his swinging balls. Then it happened, the 
spastic last heaves of climax that drove him into her even deeper, his long 
cock spearing into her, spewing his hot cum into her throbbing cunt in great 
waves. 

"Not yet! Not yet! Wait for me too, darling!" she sobbed in frustration. But 
he couldn't wait and there was no hope for her. She pushed her hips up 
against his deflating penis, the cock that had fucked her to a mind blowing 
crest and then betrayed her by spending itself seconds before she too was 
able to cum. She pounded desperately at his back in hopes that she could 
finally make it, but he rolled off her body in exhaustion, and lay quietly 
beside her. 

Now she was crazy with unfulfilled desire. She kicked her legs wide out in 
the air, her own fingers trying to manipulate the throbbing open passage 
between her legs. She dug into herself trying to reach the depths where a 
moment before the beautiful hard cock had once filled her. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, strong hands seized her arms and pulled them back, 
and at the same moment other hands spread her legs farther apart. On one 
breast, she felt a ravenous sucking mouth, and a warmly grasping hand on her 
other breast. She gasped as the combined attack of hands and mouths on her 
body began slowly to register in her mind. Timidly, she opened her eyes and 
took in what was happening to her. Cocks, mouths, and hands were everywhere; 
all over her body, sucking and fondling her. Her beloved lover was across 
the room, lying on his stomach, his head on his arms panting and trying to 
recover from his efforts. 

"I'll finish what that big faker couldn't. Come on, baby!" the thin man 
slurred as he slid his experienced cock into her willing cunt. 

"Fuck her, boy!" Wanda said, waving his red and white shorts like a cape in 
front of a charging bull. 

"That's it! Yeah, Go! Go!" Exclaimed Angus, stumbling up to aim his own 
spurting cock at her face. Hollie licked her lips to taste all she could 
with her tongue of the foam that had fallen there. One of the other men had 
taken charge of her heaving breasts and was straddling her while he shoved 
his oozing penis roughly between her creamy tits, his demanding hands 
pushing them together to form a hot deep crevice for his aching cock. 
Another stranger pinioned her arms, to the floor and released her only to 
wind his fingers in her hair and force her head to one side, and then 
plunged his hard cock into her mouth with brutal force. All of the men were 
completely aware of their total conquest and mastery of Hollie's mind and 
body, they regarded the penetration of her mouth as an invitation to 
accelerate their communal use of her and proceeded to enjoy all the parts of 
her body at will. 

Hollie screamed at the top of her lungs as orgasm after orgasm flowed over 
her. Her legs were drawn back and locked around the neck of the man whose 
cum was overflowing into her cunt with hot jet-like spurts. The cock in her 
mouth also exploded filling her throat with the wet sticky liquid, causing 
her cheeks to expand to the bursting point as she tried desperately to not 
lose one drop of the precious cum. Thin streams ran away from the corners of 
her mouth when he finally fell away from her, his softened cock falling 
uselessly away from her sucking mouth. 

She placed her own hands over the hands of the man who was still holding her 
breasts, helping him by pressing them tighter around his rock like penis 
that was still stabbing up and down within inches of her chin. With a 
violent lunge, his moment arrived too and the first stream of his pungent 
sperm landed on her chin to dribble down onto her neck only to be drawn back 
in strings that mingled with the rest of his load of cum spilling between 
her tits. The areolas of her nipples were slick with the slickness of his 
glistening cum. 

Hollie thrust her pelvis up against the lifeless member that was still in 
her cunt, then collapsed down on the floor as the cock slipped limply from 
her drenching pussy. She could not think or even bring herself to move. 
Unaware of the others, she stared at the ceiling, her hair and lips covered 
with the wetness of their cum, her thighs still shining where two men had 
pumped themselves to a climax. She felt lower than the most shameless 
prostitute, uncaring and beyond repentance. Then she remembered Irish, the 
carefree man, her lover. Turning on her side, she looked around the room her 
dulled vision finally resting on him across the room. He was prone as if in 
a coma and where she had seen him last, on his stomach, his superb body 
relaxed from his efforts with her seduction. 

"Irish?" she called weakly to him, expecting him to rise up miraculously and 
erase all that had happened to her, the violations of her body, her 
nakedness, the sordid bliss she had felt as all those strange men had 
obscenely fucked into her and brought her to a beautiful, exciting orgasm. 

"He's gone, baby, you wore him out, don't trouble yourself," Wanda's voice 
cut in from somewhere in the room. Hollie looked to where her friends voice 
was coming from and found her sitting nude with a man's head in her lap. 
Wanda's chin and thighs were still glistening from moist cum. 

* * * 

Later, when the party had broken up and Grace was telling the last of the 
guests goodbye, she felt embarrassed that her husband, Richard was passed 
out on the bed upstairs, still dressed and snoring like a baby. Oh well, the 
thought occurred to her, there were other people almost in the same 
condition, so she really shouldn't worry about it. What did worry her was 
the fact that Richard had been unfaithful to her by fucking her best friend, 
Wanda. 

Grace had not mentioned to him that she knew of his making love with their 
neighbor. How could Wanda? But knowing this, she felt a little relieved and 
it made her own unfaithfulness at the studio now seeming less criminal. Yet, 
she couldn't believe that her own best friend would seduce Richard ... 
surely that must have been the case ... behind her back. And to make it 
worse, was the fact that he had allowed Wanda to do it even though he rarely 
showed sexual interest in her, his own wife. 

She went slowly back into the house and into the kitchen. It was a shambles, 
trays littered with half eaten sandwiches and cigarette butts, empty 
bottles, broken glasses and someone had even left their coat hanging on a 
kitchen chair. The punch bowl, in the center of the table, had a crack in it 
running from the rim down to the bottom and the remains of the punch had 
spilled out onto the table leaving a dried green stain on the cloth. 

Originally she had decided to dive in and clean up the worst of the mess, 
but she was overwhelmed by fatigue, the strain of the evening having 
exhausted her physically and emotionally. Happily, Angus had promised that 
her visit the next day to the studio would not require too much of her. In 
fact, he had hinted that most of his time would be occupied with a new 
model. He said she would probably only be there about an hour. 

Then she found herself trying to imagine the new model. Maybe he had 
scheduled an interview with Hollie after all. She had left the party early, 
looking badly battered and with tear stains on her cheeks. She had thanked 
Grace for the party and left holding hands with Irish, the two of them 
weaving as they left. His low sleek Porshe was still parked where he had 
left it after the drive to the liquor store. Evidently the rumors she had 
heard about Hollie and Irish were true. But she had also heard that her 
young friend had conducted herself in an unbelievable fashion with several 
other guests, indulging in sex play with them that Grace knew would horrify 
Hollie had she been sober. 

Strangely enough, she too had felt erotic urges all evening, and had wished 
that the party was another studio session and that she could participate in 
one of Angus's thrilling studio settings there in her own house. Yes, she 
decided, the super moral Hollie had broken loose and enjoyed the sexual 
advances of men ... at last! 

With that thought Grace experienced a pang of guilt, feeling thankful that 
Richard was too drunk to move from the other bed, and she would have some 
time to herself to think about all that had happened this evening before she 
dropped off to an exhausted sleep. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

"Hey, Hollie, haven't you got anything to drink in this place? I've looked 
everywhere while you've been lying there day dreaming about your debut last 
night." 

Hollie peered up at the naked man standing over her, his long limp penis 
dangling loosely between his legs. She was too sleepy and hungover at first 
to be alarmed at the presence of a man in her bedroom. Then, as she became 
more awake, she recognized the man who had fucked her the night before, and 
a shudder coursed through her aching body. 

"What are you doing here?" 

"Hell, baby, last night you took my keys, remember? You convinced us both 
we're in love. Look, I'll settle for a cold beer or whatever you've got in 
the house, and then I'll be on my way." 

Hollie rolled over to escape the impatience in his face, sobbing miserably 
and not caring that the sheet had fallen from her back and exposed her 
rounded buttocks. "How could you? How could you worry about a drink, after 
last night?" she managed to ask between wails of shame and disappointment. 

"Look, I'll make you a deal," the man offered. "It's just because of last 
night that I need a drink before we talk about it, so you tell me where 
you've got the beer and then we'll sit down and talk about last night. I'd 
like nothing better, by God!" He sat on the edge of the bed and gently 
stroked her back to demonstrate his sincerity. Finally her sobs petered out 
to sniffles, and she turned to him and spoke. 

"There's beer, and some sherry in the cabinet, it's over the stove." Then 
after a moments pause, she added, "I think I'd like some sherry to calm me 
down." 

Returning from the kitchen with a nearly empty bottle of sherry he sat down 
again and poured a small portion into a glass, then handed it to her with a 
broad grin. 

"There should be more, the bottle was almost full yesterday." 

"Well don't worry, honey. I had a little taste in the kitchen. Now about 
last night," he said with a sweeping gesture that was meant to include the 
surrounding neighborhood. "I'd just try to forget the whole damned thing, if 
I were you." 

"But, but you said that you loved me!" she whimpered miserably. 

"Yeah, sure I love you. And you're one helluva good lay too." At that, she 
flinched and buried her face in the pillow as the humiliating words sank 
into her mind. Vivid images of her role in the den flashed back to her, 
making her half sick with conflicting feelings of guilt and remorse. 
Suddenly, those feelings were replaced with savage, all consuming anger, and 
she sat up rigidly in bed, her lush breasts bursting into view as she turned 
on her naked buttocks to stare hatefully up at him. 

"Well," she stormed, "A good lay? That was what you wanted, wasn't it? And 
wasn't I? But that's right, you were too drunk to know, you were passed out 
on the floor. Maybe you'd better ask the others who fucked me silly, they 
know and they'll tell you all about it!" 

She spat the words clearly and distinctly, her voice shaking with rage only 
toward the last, as fierce tears of indignation filled her eyes. 

"Okay, teacher," she shouted, her voice breaking, "now I'm ready for 
anything! Thanks for the lesson." 

Stunned by her outburst, Irish started to speak but she interrupted. She 
rose to her knees and discarded the sheet from the vee of her pubic hair and 
thrust her full hips toward him with obscene defiance. 

"What's the matter?" she howled. "Don't you want to FUCK me? Or shall I find 
someone downtown or maybe even at the studio?" 

"You crazy little bitch, you think because you got fucked by a few cocks 
last night, you're all whore now. I'm fond of you, sure and I'll fuck you, 
but you're too damned stupid to know what love is! I'll see you around," he 
waved, rising to leave, "and thanks for everything!" 

"Don't go. I'm sorry ... Irish," she called out as he slammed the front 
door. "I do love you, I really do!" 

A moment later she heard the snarling whine of the Porsche changing gears as 
it tore up the street, the sound growing dimmer and dimmer as though 
symbolizing her diminishing hope for a new life. 

"Oh, his keys! I still have his keys!" she cried. She jumped out of bed and 
raced to the closet in the hall, grabbing the coat she had worn to the 
party. Searching frantically in the pockets, she sighed with relief when her 
fingers closed on the gold chain with an assortment of keys. 

"Maybe I can find him at Mr. Leech's studio this afternoon?" Hollie asked, 
trying to camouflage her excitement as she wrote down the address Grace gave 
her from the other end of the line. "I'd be over to help you clean up, but 
he'll probably need his keys, although I can't imagine how he ever got home 
last night without them. Can you?" 

"No, I can't," Grace agreed. "How do you feel this morning?" 

"Perfect, just perfect, thank you!" 

"I wish I could say the same for Richard," Grace said. "He was awfully 
confused this morning. He barely made it to work." 

"Yes, I supposed everybody got a little drunk last night. Even me." 

"Well," Grace consoled, "I'd have joined you, but I couldn't break away from 
my duties long enough to get involved in anything. Millie, you know the girl 
who went topless, was helping me serve, but it seems she got sidetracked 
with Richard's boss and forgot to help me." 

"A lot of us did," Hollie said softly. "Anyway, thanks again for the address 
and the party. I'll try to come over tomorrow." 

"You mean you're not going to stay for your interview with Angus today? I'll 
see you there, won't I?" 

Hollie was silent as she struggled futilely to figure out the meaning of 
Grace's question. Had she committed herself to Angus as well as made a fool 
of herself with Irish and the other men at the party. 

"Maybe," Hollie answered hurriedly. "I've got to go. Goodbye." 

Grace stared quizzically into the silent telephone receiver, the curtness of 
the girl's answer like a slap in the face. 

Hollie rubbed herself briskly with the thick towel after her shower, patting 
powder under her arms and inside her thighs. Her body glowed with a peachy 
tint from the hard spray she had trained on herself to cleanse away whatever 
remained from last night's orgy. Standing in front of the mirror, she sucked 
in her breath at the sight of the bruises and welts on her breasts that 
marred the otherwise faultless skin. Her breasts were tender, not as they 
usually were from their weight, but deeper in, where the muscles had been 
torn by the hands of men she had never seen before the encounter in the den. 
And there was a bruise between her creamy orbs that started in the crevice 
there and extended up to her collarbone. 

She thought again of Irish's tenderness and the flurry of poignant kisses he 
had lavished on her the evening before, before lust had dazed and inflamed 
them both. Despite his ugly behavior that morning, she was certain that he 
was just as lonely and starved for affection as she, even though at this 
point he was not inclined to admit it. But she could never excuse the 
cruelty Wanda had shown in inviting the others to witness her love making 
with the man. Nor could she ever forgive the outrageous rape of her newly 
aroused body by the strange men, much less the fact that she had lost 
control and actually contributed wantonly to her own debasement. 

She dressed with extra care, hoping wistfully that her dress would appeal to 
Irish ... she wanted so to impress him. 

Hollie entered the waiting room to Leech's studio a little after two 
o'clock. Millie had shown her in very graciously and had made no reference 
to the party whatsoever. She had assured the nervous girl that Angus was 
inside, "working on a short sequence with one of the other models, and that 
he would be out as soon as possible." 

Just as Hollie was settling back into the soft leather chair, preparing 
herself to wait as long as she must for the appearance of her new lover, 
Irish, the door opened and Leech sauntered in. 

"So, you made up your mind to come after all?" he chuckled, seating himself 
on the broad arm of her chair. His eyes shone as he straightened his scarf 
and bestowed upon her his most winning smile. 

"Actually, I'm here to see Irish. He left his car keys." She explained, her 
confidence flagging under the older man's intense study of her plush young 
body. He seemed not have heard her at all, and leered instead, as he 
remembered her delicious contortions as she endured the subjugating hands 
and cocks of her seducer, Irish, and the three other men on Grace's carpeted 
den floor. 

"Why, of course you'll see Irish," he winked slyly, "but first, dear, let's 
finish the talk we started last evening. I'm sorry we were interrupted, but 
that man, the short heavy gentleman you saw me wander off with at the party, 
is one of my most generous clients. But I know you understand, now that 
you've met him on such intimate terms." 

Hollie shivered as the full impact of his words hit her. Surely that man had 
been one of the three who had defiled her while Angus Leech had watched and 
masturbated himself to an orgasm. 

Shifting himself closer to her, he suddenly caught her head in his hand and 
forced her face to his. She let out a pleading cry as he tilted back her 
head and pressed down his mouth on hers, his searing tongue forcing its way 
between her teeth to lick and stab into the recesses of the sweet wet 
cavern. With his other hand he clutched at her heaving bosom, rubbing the 
resilient mounds of her breasts with his palm and then clutching anew and 
pulling on them one at a time. 

"You filthy man! Stop it! Stop!" she shrieked. Then he rammed his forearm 
into her neck, pushing her solidly back into the chair and lowering his head 
to one up-thrust breast. He sucked ferociously at the nipple, opening and 
closing his mouth on the shrinking pink tip under her bra and the fabric of 
her dress. She went rigid beneath him, gathering all her strength, and 
jerked away, screaming as the pain of wrenching loose from his teeth sent 
currents of agony through her chest. 

"You dumb fucking whore!" he bellowed. "Do you think I don't know how hot 
you really are beneath that phony, proper exterior? Come here!" he said, 
pointing to an enormous mirror as he strode up to the wall facing the studio 
inside, "I'll show you something!" 

She saw him press what was apparently a lever on the bottom section of the 
frame. "Are you willing to cooperate with me now?" he said as the reflection 
in the mirror changed to a clear view of the interior of the studio. Hollie 
rose to her feet, sucking in her breath at the shocking exhibition she saw. 

Irish, her new boyfriend, was positioned between her friend and neighbor, 
Grace's legs, his hard glistening rod sliding easily in and out of her 
friend's hungry cunt. Grace was lying on her back, on the only table in the 
room, with her hands clasped behind her neck in an attitude of depraved 
surrender to his onslaught. 

"This is a private session," Angus said, lighting a cigarette. "As you see, 
there are no cameras. They're rehearsing, you might say, for one of my more 
private episodes." 

Hollie said nothing and watched with incredulity as Irish skewered Grace 
more violently, pounding into her unmercifully with his expanded cock. They 
were out of their minds with passion, fucking harder and faster as their 
greed for each other drove them on. Grace seemed to be shouting lewd 
encouragement to him through clenched teeth. She was begging him to ram it 
into her hot, wide open cunt and to fill her belly with cum. She was 
reveling in his riddling of her cunt and bucked up against him like a true 
whore to drain every last ounce of his energy with the sucking flanges of 
her vagina. Hollie watched with fascination at the lewd sight before her. 

She was only remotely aware of Leech's naked penis creeping up under her 
skirt behind her to rest under her buttocks, finally finding its way up into 
the crevice protected by the thinness of her panties. She reached behind her 
to discourage any further invasion of her buttocks and accidentally 
encountered his soft, hair covered balls with her fingertips. At the touch, 
an expression of lecherous elation came over his face, his penis jerking to 
greater hardness. He pushed his free hand roughly down the front of her 
dress and cupped one lush breast, delighting in the fact that the massive, 
globe was too large to encompass with only one of his hands. 

Hollie's struggles to escape his hand and probing cock grew less as she once 
again became absorbed in watching the good fucking Irish was giving Grace. 
They were in the throes of orgasm and screwed against each frantically. 

"He's fucking her best friend, isn't he?" Leech said breathlessly. "And 
they're both liking it, aren't they? Watch!" 

Hollie still said nothing but continued to watch, stunned,-not wholly 
believing what she was witnessing. Her lover, had lifted Grace's firm, 
creamy legs and spread them as wide apart as they would go. Then he saw her 
treacherous neighbor's mouth gape open, as though pantomiming a scream and 
she drove her groin up tightly against the working man's just as his 
hammering hips jerked forward and began spurting his cum into the deep, 
passion moistened cunt. She was horrified at the sight of Grace's trim white 
buttocks contracting uncontrollably, signaling her own orgiastic upheavel 
deep in her thrashing belly. Then thick white cum seeped from her quivering, 
pulsing pussy as it mercilessly squeezed at Irish's rod and she could see 
thin trails of the sticky white semen run down into the exposed valley 
guarding Grace's tightly puckered anus. 

"Don't you wish that it was your cunt that his hot cum were in, Hollie dear? 
Don't you now?" Leech grinned, lasciviously as he took advantage of the 
girl's stunned expression and quickly unzipped the back of her dress without 
her even noticing what was happening. "Incidentally, my dear, this is a two 
way mirror so neither of your trusted friends can see you watching them 
fuck." 

"Oh my God, how could they? I trusted them and now look! Oh," Hollie moaned 
pitifully, biting her lower lip as she watched Irish get up off of Grace, 
gleaming strings of both their cum clinging to his deflating member when he 
withdrew away from his still obviously aroused partner. 

"Watch carefully now, because the show isn't over, not over at all," Angus 
Leech informed her. Still unaware of her partial nakedness, and now hardly 
caring that Leech's erect and hardened penis had slipped under the elastic 
band of her nylon pantie leg. Hollie saw Irish raise his hand in a gesture 
of welcome to the two young men who had walked into the soundproof and 
mirrored room. They stopped several yards away from the table where Grace 
lay waiting. Irish held a brief conversation with them, then smiled wickedly 
and in lewd invitation, pointed his upturned hand toward Grace's open and 
warm pubic area. Her pussy was glistening and waiting and the two young men 
were ready. 

Hollie gulped and felt a rush of heat within her when she saw the size of 
the shorter man's sex organ. God, she thought it must be bigger than Irish's 
and it's still soft! Almost immediately she forgot her hurt and anger over 
Irish's betrayal of her with Grace. She watched with increasing excitement 
as the two men approached Grace, the tall man's cock already hard and 
jutting out like a long hard poker, while the other's thick, heavily veined 
organ swung pendulously from side to side as he walked toward her. 

A desperate look of fear registered on Grace's face when she realized that 
the depleted sex actor, Irish, had deserted her to stand across the room and 
watch the two young men circle her menacingly, like big cats on a hunting 
party ... and she was their prey. Unexpectedly, the taller man seized her 
wrists, and held them fast to the table while his friend wound his strong 
fingers in her hair, forcing her face into his curly pubic hair. 

He rubbed the blunt end of his growing prick on her cheeks and along the 
edges of her mouth, his hips straining forward as he yanked ruthlessly at 
her nearest breast to lever her body up to the edge of the shaking table. 
Then arching his back, he rammed into her unprotected mouth with his 
monstrous shaft, stretching her lips thin and bloating her cheeks even 
though the instrument was far from being as hard as the other man's. 

Hollie felt a blending of regret and relief when the man fucking himself to 
total stiffness in Grace's mouth, stopped, and for no apparent reason. 
Mesmerized, she pressed closer to the mirror to catch every nuance and 
detail of their erotic movements. The blonde man Grace had been sucking had 
pulled out his cock and was helping the other man bully their captive to her 
feet. Then the shorter man seated himself on the edge of the unsteady table, 
his now fully hard prick sticking up several inches above his navel like a 
snake ready to spring. They worked like an efficient team and muscled the 
wiggling Grace up onto the table, her thighs straddling the seated man's 
loins. The latter hoisted her hips higher and plunged his thick pulsing cock 
halfway into her, pushing the unresisting moist flesh of her tender pussy in 
soft waves before its cruel impalement deep within her. 

Grace's back tensed at the quick and brutal impalement, then she relaxed and 
she slithered down to wetly devour, with her open cunt, the last remaining 
section of the hardened rod of flesh. The man still holding her while 
standing moved in then and dug his fingers into the soft white hips, 
elevating her soft buttocks to a level with his own bursting pulsating 
instrument. Holding it, he aimed the glistening rod at the tightly clenched 
ring of her anus and leaned in until it's mushrooming head touched her. He 
rubbed it in slow teasing circles around the opening and pressed steadily 
in, finally planting the first part of the bulbous tip inside her stinging 
ass hole. When he had pierced a few inches into her, he slapped the bottom 
man on his thigh and muttered something to him. 

"That's it! That's it! The signal!" Angus yelled to Hollie. "How do you like 
that, eh? Don't you think that would feel heavenly, you big tittied little 
bitch; to have two hard cocks fucking into you at once? That's what you call 
the full sandwich fuck, how do you think you would like that?" 

"Oh, that does look wonderful ... Yes! ... I want to do it too. Please!" 
Hollie begged him as her lust driven companion pulled her dress up over her 
white mooned buttocks and stripped her panties down around her ankles. As he 
quickly kicked out of them and ground back against his blood engorged cock 
wedging into the upper depths of the crevice between her gyrating buttocks. 
But then, Leech stepped back a little and dropped to his knees behind her, 
prying open her ass cheeks and he rammed his face between them, covering her 
anus with his suctioning mouth. His long hot tongue flicked out and into her 
virginal ass-hole, rolling and twisting inside her until she thought she 
would faint from utter ecstasy. 

"Watch! ... Look at them!" Leech commanded, diving back to renew his tongue 
lashing and sucking of the girl's lewdly working back passage. 

Her head whirled with brainless sensuality when she managed to focus her 
eyes again on the threesome. Grace's rounded white buttocks were pried open 
wider than ever now, the pair of huge glistening pricks fucking with 
alternating rhythm into her incredibly expanded ass-hole and her pussy. 
Hollie was thrilled with each of their thrusts into Grace's wildly thrashing 
body, watching enthralled, as the standing man's great sperm laden balls 
swayed at the base of his hard driving rod, smacking into the bottom man's 
balls with every animal like plunge into her. 

"Oh, if only," Hollie yearned, taking a wide stance to permit Leech's 
smothering mouth and tongue to forge greater pleasure at his will. She hated 
and envied Grace but not for having been fucked by her own Irish. She wanted 
to be in Grace's place now and to have those thick shiny rods sliding 
beautifully in and out of her cunt, filling her, spreading the sensitive 
walls of her own yearning pussy and ass. She could almost feel Grace's 
fantastic frenzy as the man skewered into 

Grace's cunt and pulled with angry sucking motions of his mouth on her 
friends's wildly juggling tits. 

Hollie's dreams were brought to a halt when she cried at the entrance of 
Angus Leech's saliva wet penis into her own tight, resisting ass-hole. Her 
brow furrowed with anguish, and she struggled unsuccessfully against it, yet 
she was hesitant to chance losing what was at least half of the pleasure 
that her friend Grace was experiencing and so endured the initial discomfort 
of his entrance. His hands were clutching both breasts from behind, his 
fingers occasionally pausing to pinch her rigid nipples until they stung 
from the pressure. Even though her rectal passage was still wet from the 
small intrusions of his tongue, she was not prepared for this sadistic 
attack from the rear. Still, he pushed into her, the sphincter muscles 
around her anus closing on and swallowing more of his lustfully throbbing 
cock with each plunge. The pain was so overwhelming that she could not 
think. Tears came to her eyes as the advancing penis probed deeper and 
deeper. "It's good! Ohhh, yes! Do it to me there, fuck me hard!" she groaned 
with the changing sensation of pain to weird pleasure. She began to push 
backwards toward the thrusting of his loins. 

"You, put your legs further apart and watch them! Look!" Leech snapped. His 
hard, wet cock head rode further into her ass, at last up to the stocky 
hilt, and he dropped one hand from her breasts to sensuously to stimulate 
her thrumming clitoris. Obeying him, she turned her attention anew to the 
threesome inside on the crazily wobbling table. The two men were on the 
verge of emptying their sperm in Grace, their eyes were rolled back, their 
teeth bared as they stroked into her with animal lust. Grace wallowed 
obscenely, raising and lowering her hips to run every fraction of the last 
inch of their cocks into her belly and ass. Suddenly Hollie saw both men 
stiffen almost together and begin a spasmodic jerking action as they began 
shooting hot gushing cum into Grace's ravaged ass-hole and cunt. Seething 
torrents of the milky fluid flowed freely out of her and ran off their 
testicles, and finally slipped off the table onto the floor. This sight was 
almost too much for Hollie to bear and she felt the tremor of her climax 
sweep through her and flow volcanically in delightful spasms, causing her 
mind to reel with the ecstasy of it. 

" Aaaaaagggggghhhhhh. Yeeesss, yesss," she screamed as she felt the first 
convulsions of Angus's orgasm matching her own. His raging rod redoubled its 
fury, fucking in to her very depths and sending the contents of his balls 
splashing against the tender inner wall separating her rectum from her 
cuntal passage. Gradually, the force of his rampaging cock slowed to a 
lagging churning motion, until at last he staggered back from her, his limp 
penis slipping out of her no longer virginal ass-hole with a slight popping 
noise. 

She fell forward against the two way mirror, the heavy breathing from 
Leech's ultimate exertion no less than her own exhausted breathing. Then she 
looked inside again and saw that the two men had risen and left the table to 
fall onto the couch that was on one side of the room. Their chests were 
heaving as they too tried to regain normal breathing again. Grace was still 
on the table, now on her back with her legs wide flung as she stared 
trance-like at the white ceiling. Her soft young pussy hair was matted with 
their semen, the reddened flanges of her cunt as raw and stretched open as 
was her newly opened anus. 

The full breasted girl could no longer deny her sexual awakening. She was 
now a real woman whose latent desire for men had been torturing her for 
years, waiping her life, making her a prisoner in a morality what was never 
really her true self. Perhaps, her father's rape of her young and 
defenseless body had been an excuse to avoid the feverish urgency in her 
blood by becoming socially involved in clubs and other activities, none of 
which were really effective when it came to helping others as well as 
herself. 

Both Grace and Angus Leech had stressed the importance of the work in the 
studio, that the workshop was a dynamic way of finding oneself as well as 
trying to help others, bringing them together ... yes, it certainly could be 
very fulfilling and beneficial work ... so why not, she asked herself. So 
she adjusted her bra forming the huge breasts into them snuggly and smiling 
sweetly, turned her back to Leech. "Angus, would you mind zipping me up?" 

"Why yes, of course. I'd be more than happy to help you in any way possible 
now." Having dressed and regained his usual composure, Leech placed his hand 
warmly on her shoulder and steadied her while he closed the back of her 
dress with his other hand. 

"Oh, thank you," she said, still smiling coyly, her expression softening 
even more as a new, wonderful hope fluttered in her chest. 

"I'm pleased, so very pleased that you qualify for our work here," he said 
smiling, "and now I hope you'll understand the reason you should be leaving 
before Grace comes out of the room. She might be, well, a bit upset if she 
sees you here, especially since she'll be leaving with your friend Irish and 
the two other men ... Understand?" 

"Oh, don't worry about her seeing me here, she knew that I might be coming, 
Mr. Leech," Hollie began to explain. 

"Never mind that," Leech broke in on her statement, a good natured gruffness 
in his voice. "Simply take my word for it, Hollie." He then reached inside 
the upper desk drawer and took out a sealed white envelope, and handed it to 
her. 

"This will be of great interest to you I think." 

"But Irish's keys. I have them with..." 

"Give them to me, I promise that I'll return them to him. Besides, you'll be 
seeing your new friend regularly from now on." 

"Well, alright, I'll be leaving now then. See you soon, goodbye." And she 
turned toward the door to leave, her voice showing the disappointment at not 
speaking to Irish after all. 

But when she reached the street she opened the envelope that Angus had given 
her and was astonished at the sight. She had five hundred crisp dollar bills 
inside. She couldn't believe her eyes and so she opened the enclosed note 
with anticipation. 

Angus had told her that she was indeed a very beautiful girl and he was 
impressed by her willingness to cooperate with the work project. She was to 
be at the film studio again tomorrow morning and they were happy to have her 
working with them. She was free to choose whatever costume or clothing she 
desired It was signed, Angus. 

She was very thrilled about her new job, and couldn't wait until tomorrow 
morning. Well, it certainly was a fine way to earn that much money and to 
think that she could also see Irish in her job too ... that will be so nice, 
she thought. It's nice to be free of my inhibitions, at last! 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

An entirely different kind of note was handed to Grace when she emerged from 
the film room with the three men. She was confident that it was the usual 
hundred dollar bills with instructions to return on a certain day and so 
didn't read it immediately upon leaving the studio. Angus had been somewhat 
distant, but it made no impression upon Grace because she was still basking 
in the relaxing aftermath of her sexual encounter a few minutes ago, and it 
didn't seem important to wonder about his coolness then. 

But now, she was sitting on the local city bus as it strained up the hill to 
her street, and was stunned, shaken by the contents it contained. She had 
found the money inside, but also with it was a shattering note from Angus. 
And he had actually signed it Mr. Leech! Not even Angus as he had been doing 
of late! It was written in a very terse style and informed her that she was 
no longer needed in the series they were working on ... they sincerely hoped 
that she had benefited by her experiences with them and would she please 
continue to show discretion regarding the duties she performed while she had 
been in their employee ... and enclosed were the payment for her services. 

She couldn't believe her eyes, what had happened? She had done her best and 
they had told her of future plans that she was to be involved in as well, 
and now she was no longer needed! She felt as if she had been cast aside, as 
indeed she had been. 

The next morning Grace slept later than usual, explaining to Richard that 
she hadn't slept a wink all night and wanted to catch an extra hour of rest 
after he left for his work. Again, he seemed to understand and left her with 
the idea she should stay in bed all day if she thought it would help. 

She had drifted off to sleep right after he drove off but awoke shortly 
after nine o'clock feeling a little more refreshed." She had quickly dressed 
and had gone to the bank to deposit her money in the savings account she had 
opened earlier for her extra money she was earning. 

Now, at eleven, she was busy cleaning house, a frown on her forehead as she 
tried desperately not to think of Angus Leech, her work, her friends ... 
anything! She planned to prepare an excellent dinner for Richard tonight and 
start being a genuine wife again, in all ways. 

But nothing was working. Her resolves faded into thoughts about herself, her 
failures as a woman and now even as a whore. She had decided that was 
exactly what she had become ... a whore just as common as though she had 
walked the streets ... or even just a prostitute in some second class 
brothel on the wrong side of the tracks. Her feelings were still not 
crystallized though she admitted. She had felt pride, for earning the tidy 
sum now safely in the bank as well as for her performances at work. 

No one there had complained at least she didn't think so and yet ... and 
yet, she had been discharged with no apparent reason. Surely if they had 
finished her part in the series, she could act in an other one... 

Then she recalled her consternation when Angus had told her that yesterday's 
session was not to be filmed and that it was to be a trial run to determine 
her ability to relate with men, more than one man ... She had been confused 
by the absence of the cameras, as she had grown to like having these events 
recorded. Also she was upset because Millie hadn't even been there taking 
notes and whispering to Leech. 

Most upsetting of all though, had been when Irish had come in and briskly 
instructed her to undress immediately. "The boss man said I'm supposed to 
warm you up again," he had explained. And he had, oh he had! Then, after the 
warm up, those two other young men had come in and the heartless way they 
had used her, turning her blood to wild fire and driving her insane with 
rapture. They had even told her how good she had been. Still, here she was, 
dismissed, not even worthy of whoredom. No wonder Richard was dissatisfied 
with her in bed! She was no good as a wife or a whore! 

* * * 

"Grace, are you home?" Wanda yelled from the front door. 

"I'm up here Wanda, in the kitchen." 

"I thought you were here, your window is open and from the looks of those 
clouds you would never go away and leave them open. Hey, what's the matter? 
You look pretty glum, did something happen at the studio today." 

"I don't know," Grace said listlessly. 

"What do you mean, 'you don't know'? I thought you and old Mr. Film Maker 
himself were in the middle of filming the best film ever made. He can't be 
tired of sex, if I know Angus ... but maybe it's you who is tired of sex..." 

"Yes, I think that I am tired of sex, and a lot of other things too." 

"Oh come on, Grace," Wanda mocked, "don't tell me you're becoming your same 
old self-righteous self again, are you? When you have finally loosened up 
and have begun to enjoy yourself, why, what's happened? Don't you like all 
that money, and too, what about the plan to really please Richard in bed? 
Come on, please tell me!" 

"No, the same old Grace I am not. You of all people, should know that, 
Wanda. Just as you seem to know what pleases my husband better than I do. As 
she talked, she felt a wave of anger rising in her at the thought of Wanda's 
betrayal with Richard on the night of the party. That, plus her disgrace of 
being fired yesterday at the studio, made her want to lash out visicously at 
the 'know it all' woman. 

"Christ, what's bothering you today?" 

"Okay, I'll tell you what's bothering me! Do, you really want to know or are 
you afraid to know? The first thing is, I've been told by your friend Angus 
Leech that I'm no longer needed as a whore at his so named studio. Secondly, 
I'm sick and tired of your kind of cheap friendship. And last of all, I know 
all about you and Richard going to bed together, for what you will probably 
call an 'affair' during the party last night. That's what's bothering me 
Wanda!" After her outburst, Grace glared with a hateful silence at Wanda and 
she stared back in disbelief, amazed by the fire and loathing in her calm 
neighbor's usually placid temperament. 

"Why ... Grace ... what on ... How ... Who told you about Richard and me?" 

"It's not important who told me," Grace interrupted. "What is important is 
what you did ... you fucked my husband behind my back and right here in my 
own house! 

While she was sorry that Grace had learned of the infidelity with Richard, 
Wanda could not understand her friend's angry suggestion that she was afraid 
to take on a real man. It was an unfair opinion but to reassure herself, she 
thought back to the other men in her life ... college, work and even the 
service men she had met ... they had all prized her as having a real talent 
in making them sexually aroused beyond the normal female. She would fuck 
anyone, and she had long ago decided, if he was clean, good looking, and 
with some intelligence so as not to be inhibited she would go to bed ... No, 
she was good and enjoyed sex and perhaps Grace was merely worried about 
Richard, his inability to get worked up when he was with his own wife. 

"Grace, listen to me," Wanda began, "I confess that I did go to bed with 
Richard ... and I am also sorry that your arrangement with Angus didn't work 
out, but you are wrong about some things. As for Richard, he's a lot more 
man than I thought he would be ... you should know that." 

"I don't know anything, you're the expert. Tell me!" Grace spat, infuriated 
by Wanda's cool declaration of guilt. "However, there's one thing ... if 
you're such an nympho, why haven't you worked at the studio? It's all fun 
and games you know." 

"I told you," Wanda said abruptly. "Tom brings in enough money for us and I 
don't need to work extra." 

"You liar!" Shrieked Grace, her face becoming deeply red with rage and her 
shoulders shaking with emotion. "Why don't you admit that Angus knows you 
for what you are, a frigid bitch and doesn't want you around. Tom doesn't 
either or he wouldn't make a point of staying on his trips so much!" 

"Go to hell! That's not true!" Wanda yelled at last loosing her self 
control. "Any man who has any sense wants me! Richard's been hot for me 
since the day you moved in to this dump. And when it comes to Angus, you 
don't know what you're talking about. After all, he dropped you didn't he?" 

"Wanda, that is quite enough. You had better leave, and now!" 

"You're damned right I'll leave right this minute too!" Wanda stormed down 
the stairs. Turning when he got to the door, she shouted back at Grace. "But 
you are going to be sorry as hell you ever met me!" 

"I am already and I don't want to ever see your face again! Do you hear?" 
Grace was shouting at Wanda as she crossed over the lawn to her house next 
door. What a way for a friendship to end! 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

An hour later, still furious, Wanda sat in her own kitchen with a tall glass 
of vodka tonic in front of her. She had been fighting her anger at Grace, 
trying to rationalize her way back to calmness, but she had succeeded only 
in becoming more enraged as she thought about the accusations directed at 
her. She had even attempted to telephone Tom at his hotel in San Diego, but 
had been informed by the operator that he had not yet shown up to claim his 
reservation there. This was not like him, she pondered as she sipped the 
drink, not like him at all to forget to cancel a reservation. He was too 
efficient, too much the enterprising businessman, to neglect even something 
so trivial as telephoning the hotel to say he would be delayed or was not 
coming after all. 

Wanda checked the calendar on the wall beside the stove, hoping that she had 
mixed up the days ... no, she had been right: it was the twenty-fourth, two 
days after he said he would arrive in the city to meet with the head buyer 
of the dress factory. Anyway, there it was, the uncanceled reservation 
itself! She wished she knew where he was going to be, then she could call 
and talk to Millie. He was undoubtedly staying with one of the staff 
members. Of course, he had probably gone directly to the meeting, had a few 
drinks afterwards with someone, an executive or buyer-and had been invited 
to the man's house for dinner and overnight. That would account for 
everything, surely, Wanda decided, taking another healthy gulp of her drink 
to salute her ability as being logical. But why hadn't he telephoned her for 
almost a week? 

"Goddamn Grace!" she said aloud, surprising herself with her own voice. The 
bitch had actually ridiculed her, called her a "sex expert" and gone on to 
imply that Tom, her own husband, was using business as an excuse to stay 
away. And as for Angus, he had begged her to come to work for him-actually 
begged! She had declined, of course, because Tom would not-have wanted her 
to waste herself on a lot of slavering idiots with big cocks. Not that she 
had ever asked for his opinion on the issue; she just knew he wouldn't want 
her to. 

Still, she had to be honest with herself. The very word "cock" sent cold 
chills up and down her spine. Subsequent to Angus's offer she had been 
tempted to listen to him and go to the studio at least once to take in a 
filming session. He had tried to entice her with tales about this male 
actors, saying that he rarely considered hiring a man unless he had an above 
average endowment of sex equipment. She could take her choice of them any 
day, he promised. 

Even though she was riled, she could not hold down the giddy warmth that 
engulfed her when she envisioned hard or even a limp male sex organ, with or 
without bodies and faces attached above. 

She took another sip from the glass and rose, noting as she swayed toward 
the bedroom that the alcohol was having a remarkable effect on her ... Or 
was it more than just the drink? Anyway, her entire system was in a state of 
disorder, a mixture of anger, excitement, and alcoholic haze. 

The magazines were where she had left them, in the top drawer of her 
dresser. She chose several of her favorite photos and sat on the bed, 
leafing through the pages with delight. Then, with a sardonic sneer on her 
face, she stopped and read a portion of the text on the first page of one of 
the magazines: "This magazine is produced to provide a unique collection of 
photo reference studies to be used by the serious artist. Any person 
desiring erotic or sordid material are warned that such is not to be found 
in this book, nor is it our intention to provide material of such a 
nature..." Ha! Big deal, Wanda thought, as she leaned over to examine one 
picture of a young man not more than twenty, who was posed in a kneeling 
position. His thick cock and dark-skinned scrotum hung to the floor between 
his tight muscular thighs. He appeared to be rather obtuse she thought, but 
for that very reason, he was all the more stimulating. She could almost feel 
the texture of his cockhead, th smooth soft skin of his balls. Then she lay 
bac panting with her legs parted. Her long tanned le lifted up and bent and 
unbent alternately, her back bowing as she moved her hips slowly to the 
lilting rhythm of her dream. Her fingertips stroked the soft outer lips of 
her vagina, spreading the moist flesh gently apart, caressing their 
smoothness to sudden rigidity. A kaleidoscope of sensual visions committed 
to memory tumbled about in her head, stirring her desire and anger toward 
Grace simultaneously. 

Wanda inserted a finger between the pulsing flanges of her vagina, expecting 
her passion to soar even higher. But nothing happened. Then she plunged 
another finger in, and another, now three altogether, and still she felt 
nothing like the blaze of sensuality that she had expected. Instead, she was 
beset by an overwhelming anxiety and a foolish shriveling of her longing to 
fondle the young man's fleshy, dangling penis. "Cock, big fat, cock!" she 
chanted desperately in an attempt to rekindle her lusty hunger. Finally, 
admitting defeat, she hurled the magazine against the wall and pulled up her 
panties, an affronted expression smoldering like sulphur in her eyes. "That 
bitch, that silly bitch! ... Well, she'll pay, by God, she'll pay for this!" 

* * * 

"Hi, kids," Wanda said as she walked up to Hollie and Irish. They had just 
climbed out of the Porsche and were busy straightening their clothes and 
stretching when Wanda's greeting cut through the roar of traffic still 
buzzing in their ears. 

"We're just coming from the studio," Irish said, brightening at Wanda's 
presence. "Hollie and I finished about the same time-take it as you like-and 
I graciously offered to drive her home." 

"Oh, yes, Wanda, it was beautiful-more than I thought it would be. You just 
don't know." Hollie exclaimed as she smiled up at Irish. 

"Oh, it was uh, beautiful," Irish smirked. "A perfect pisser of an 
afternoon, despite the fact that little blooming tits here had been hard at 
it since sometime this morning ... Good Christ, talk about waking a sleeping 
beauty..." 

Hollie gazed lovingly ,at Irish, her lips half-mooning in an innocent 
expression of adoration. "Tease all you like," she giggled, "but now I know 
why they call you a stud." 

"Well, this stud needs a stiff drink." 

"Hey Hollie, I've got an idea," Wanda joined in. "I've just opened a fresh 
bottle of vodka ... Why don't you two sex-maniacs come to my house and cool 
down over a drink? Okay?" 

"Splendid idea!" Hollie said dolefully, "I've got to shower and get ready 
for the Neighborhood Honor Society meeting at seven o'clock ... I'm 
resigning this evening ... Irish, you'll stop over before you leave, won't 
you?" 

"Sure, baby ... But now, let's have that tall one," he said, winking 
mischievously at Wanda. 

Later and settled down comfortably in the den, Irish and Wanda spent a 
leisurely half hour poking fun at Hollie's gleeful exuberance over her 
recent introduction to the exciting fruits of sex and love. 

After a while, he began to loosen up and, while moving closer to his 
hostess, launched a steady flow of praise and poetic ideals designed to bowl 
over any obstacle in his way. 

"It comes to me, my good friend, that you're a true cynic, imbued with wit 
and charm, but above all, an insight into the symptoms of our decay as a 
culture ... I should say..." 

"I should say you're drunk," Wanda said saucily, "and that now you're trying 
to talk your way into my pants. You might make it, you know, but that 
depends upon something else." 

"Damned if you didn't find me out, you would! But what sacrificial provision 
must I hold to strike it rich in your secret parts? In other words, how much 
to fuck you, Wanda, dear?" 

"I'm surprised that you'd pay for any woman. But since you've placed me in a 
position to bargain, I admit that there's something I do want." 

"My car?" Irish asked sarcastically yet not certain what she did want. 

"No, not your car," Wanda laughed. "It's something much less expensive, I'd 
simply like to borrow one of Angus's films without his knowing it. I want 
one with Grace in it, one of the ones that hasn't been released. I'd ask him 
myself, but I know he's a fanatic about unedited film. It's all in fun, just 
for a joke." 

Irish shrugged his shoulders and said, "Hell, if that's all you want, 
there's no problem whatsoever. But you're not planning something rotten at 
Grace's expense, are you? She's a nice girl, you know. Besides, even though 
she did last a little longer than most of them, she just got the boot from 
Angus." 

Sidling up closer to him, until her leg pressed warmly against his, Wanda 
assumed a pouting expression and nuzzled her head into his chest. "Come on 
now, would anyone as affectionate as I am do mean things to others? Anyway, 
I thought you were interested in knowing me better." 

With that, he reached out for her breasts and at the same time rolled on his 
side to throw a leg over her thighs. Her head still nestled against him, she 
smiled to herself and allowed him to believe that his seduction of her was 
in the bag. 

Then, with a perfect imitation of real protest, she uttered a little cry and 
struggled free. "Not yet, Irish-Don't forget, you've not met my price." 
Still wearing her pout, she added, "Most important, though, I'll be certain 
to see you again when you bring the film." 

"I'll be damned! You've outfoxed me again! 

Okay, you win, I'll get you your damned film, despite its being a risk and 
against my better judgment. But I think I'm entitled to test "what I'm 
paying for-even if it's just a feel-How about it?" 

"Wouldn't that amount to the same thing as credit?" Wanda asked coyly, 
feigning amazement. Nevertheless, she did not flinch when he gathered her 
beautiful ripe body to his and kissed her firmly on the mouth. His hands 
moved once again toward her full succulent breasts, but this time she 
complied with his desire to touch her and sat passively while he kneaded the 
lifting spheres. She saw his enormous cock jump to life in the crotch of his 
slacks, a stain of semen beginning to spread where the inflated head 
strained to burst through the light material. Then, her own sensual yearning 
sprang to life, her flesh prickling and chilling for the second time that 
afternoon. The sight of his aching penis, and his expert manipulations of 
her breasts, made her wish that holding out were not her insurance that he 
would return with the film she wanted. But her revenge was too important to 
sell out for a single sexual feast, no matter how fantastic it would no 
doubt be. 

"Steady there, man! You'll get your ride, I promise, just as soon as you 
deliver the goods. After all, you only wanted a feel tonight." 

"Damn!" he exclaimed, "for such a hot-blooded little bitch, you're as 
calculating as Lucrica Borgia. Don't worry baby, I'll deliver ... Be 
prepared though, because I'll be here!" 

"Say, you'd better run if you're going to see Hollie before she takes off to 
sink the Neighborhood Honor Society with her speech on free love." 

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I've got to work with her on the filming, and 
it's up to me to keep her agreeable ... Besides, that blooming chest of hers 
is nothing to spit at. But one thing bothers hell out of me," he said as 
though thinking aloud. "I can't figure out how a broad with tits as big as 
hers ever managed to get a membership in the Neighborhood Honor Society! Can 
you?" 

Wanda smiled and said, "Maybe that's the reason she was accepted, those big 
tits. There are some old gentlemen in the club too, and she does look 
innocent, so the women would vote for that. Ha! Just wait until the word 
gets out about her 'freedom' party, the other night." 

"Yeah, that's a juicy piece of gossip for them." Irish smiled. "Well see you 
Wanda ... I'm splitting now." 

 CHAPTER NINE 

"Mr. Benton, there's a Mr. Tom Taylor on line three," the operator informed 
Richard over the intercom. 

"Hello, Richard, this is Tom, your wandering next door neighbor. Listen, I 
want to apologize for calling you at work, but I just arrived this afternoon 
from San Francisco and had to get in touch." 

"It's good to hear from you," Richard said uncertainly, fearing that his 
friend's call might be about Wanda and their party. There was no crispness 
in Tom's voice, though; nothing to indicate that he knew ... "So what's up, 
old friend?" 

"Nothing world-shattering. It's just that a friend of Wanda's came by this 
morning and dropped off a stag film. Something spicy, I hope ... Well, he's 
got to have it back tomorrow, and I thought you'd like to drop over this 
evening to see it with me. We'll have a few drinks, talk ... That sort of 
thing." 

"Sounds fine, Tom, but what about the girls?" 

"Oh, that's all taken care of. Young Hollie has been in touch with Wanda, 
she just left, as a matter-of-fact. They're over at your house now .v It 
seems that Wanda and Grace had some sort of falling out today ... Nothing 
important. A woman thing, probably about clothes or a recipe, something 
silly. But, to make a long story short, the girls have conspired to get 
Grace out of the house and over to Hollie's, to hash things out, while you 
and I sit around swilling booze and watching some cunt get her fill of well, 
whatever fills her. What do you say? Can you come?" 

"Suits me," Richard said with relief, anxious to please Tom. "But what time 
is it safe to come? What time?" 

"Anytime, as soon as you get home. But go home first and put on something 
casual, something you don't mind messing up if the girl in the film's as 
good as she's supposed to be. "Oh, you'd better grab a bite to eat while 
you're there. There's not a damned thing in our refrigerator but diet food 
and some kind of punch concoction Wanda uses to keep her hormones alive. 
Well, I'll let you go back to your work. See you about seven." 

"Okay, Tom, and thanks for calling." 

Richard sat quietly at his desk after he had told the switchboard girl that 
he would not receive any more calls unless they were extremely urgent. Aside 
from being behind in his work, he needed time to think and let the tightness 
of his stomach relax. God knows, his wild interlude with Wanda had seemed 
worth all the risks and hazards of any extra marital indulgence. But that 
was on the night of the party, so long ago in time, and now he felt guilty, 
sorry that he had allowed mere drunkenness to carry him so irrevocably 
beyond Grace's simple trust. He had always been unrelentingly strict with 
her, perhaps too much so, and she would surely lose confidence in his 
authority if she ever found out about his breach of her faith in him. 

But Wanda was such an earthy, cock hungry bitch. She was the kind of woman 
men star in their wildest erotic fantasies and not even Grace would blame 
him if she knew anything about sex and what makes a man tick. He had never 
broken their marriage vows with anyone before Wanda, but if Grace did not 
somehow miraculously change into a real woman in bed, there was every 
possibility that he would work out his frustrations with his gorgeous 
neighbor again. Just the thought of her animal like contortions, her 
delicious long legs and high white breasts, made his cock hard as steel. He 
wished he were with her that very moment, slipping his big rod between the 
ridges of soft flesh framing her deep wet pussy. Yet, Grace's body was just 
as exciting, fleshier, more voluptuous, perhaps, but perfectly proportioned. 
Her breasts were fuller, in some ways less wholesome and more inviting than 
Wanda's. If she were only a little more primitive, more female and not so 
submerged in her role as wife, she would be sexually superior even to Wanda. 

He thought, then, of his role as Grace's husband. For some reason, one he 
could not fully comprehend, he had changed from a lover into a ruler of his 
wife. He had become her hostile critic, derogater and detractor, finding 
flaws, carping, correcting, and above all minimizing and cutting her down to 
a scale she seemed to understand and want. 

"Richard, if you don't mind, I'd like to see the report on the Hayward 
deal," a voice cut in. 

"Oh ... yes, of course, Mr. Brown, here's the preliminary right here. I'll 
have the final on your desk by quitting time. I'm not quite finished yet." 

* * * 

Richard pulled into his driveway just as it was growing dark, a few minutes 
after six o'clock. Grace must already be gone, he thought, as the house 
lights were out except for the one small lamp they always kept burning when 
they were away. 

Inside, he found a brief note from Grace on the table by the door. 

"If you need me, I'm at Hollie's ... She and Wanda came by this afternoon to 
invite me over for a talk and coffee. Your dinner is in the oven. 

Love, Grace." 

Later, Richard sat eating alone for the first time in years. She had left a 
tuna noodle casserole, which was one of his favorite dishes, but he found 
himself not enjoying it because of her absence ... she was always there. 

Then he remembered what Tom had said about Grace and Wanda having had a 
falling out. Surely Wanda had not said anything about ... But no, of course 
she wouldn't. As bold and irreverent as she was, she was no more willing to 
jeopardize her security with Tom than he, Richard, was to hurt Grace 
unnecessarily. It was more likely what Tom had guessed, some wholly 
irrational female thing involving vanity. Funny that Grace had neglected to 
mention it to him, though. Usually she painstakingly reported everything, 
even the most boring incidents, to him the first opportunity she got, and 
she said nothing about this. 

In the bedroom, changing into his jeans and an old sweater, it occurred to 
him that Tom would appreciate seeing the collection of some old college 
books he had saved from his graduate days when he was writing his thesis. 
Grace had tried several times to add them to her pile of terminal junk 
during spring housecleaning, but he had always intervened wanting to save 
them for a rainy day. 

They were exactly where he had last seen them a month ago, downstairs in the 
garage in a dark corner next to the extra tires, covered with dust and oil 
and beginning to yellow. He chuckled aloud when he noticed that the small 
heap of feces near the books was peaked with balls of dust that their cat 
had clawed onto to hide his scent. 

Richard was scanning the second volume when his eyes wandered and he caught 
sight of the thin imitation leather booklet resting on top of the next layer 
of yellowed books. He picked it up and read the cover: Hillsdale Savings and 
Loan Co. It was new and had apparently been moved under and taken from the 
books a number of times. Opening it to the first page, he was stunned when 
he saw the booklet was Grace's, a savings account and in her name! The 
balance was $3,175! 

He reeled where he stood, trying to make sense of this extraordinary 
discovery ... But this was impossible! Not even he could have skimmed that 
much money from the household allowance he gave her every week. Moreover, 
the account had been opened less than a month ago. There were seven entries, 
all over two-hundred dollars, the last one only deposited several days ago. 

He checked his watch and saw that it was after six-thirty. Tom would be 
wondering about him. He stuffed the book into his hip pocket and started up 
the stairs, convinced that his discovery must be a mistake and could put to 
rest in his mind with a simple explanation from Grace. Still, he could not 
help but speculate about it. There had to be an explanation, and he was 
going to find out what it was tonight. 

* * * 

Richard stood at the bar in the play room while Tom mixed the drinks, mostly 
whiskey, in two hefty tumblers. 

"We bought these a few years back," Tom said, pointing to the glasses. For 
special kinds of liquor, but they're so large and hold the cold so well, I 
use them for beer and cocktails too. Saves me a lot of walking. You don't 
need refills so often with them." 

"Good idea, they're nice," said Richard, without conviction, his mind still 
swarming with questions about Grace's savings account. He thought of 
excusing himself and rushing over to Hollie's house to ask his wife for the 
answers, but decided against it. Tom seemed to be at ease, a little drunk 
perhaps, but pleased that they were drinking together and sharing an evening 
like true bachelors. Well, I might as well take it easy too, Richard 
decided, lifting his glass for another belt of the potent drink. 

"Did you figure out what the girls were mad about?" Tom asked. "I asked 
Wanda just before she left, but she wouldn't say. Said something about my 
being an inconsiderate son-of-a-bitch. Then she went on and on about my 
adolescent sense of responsibility just because I forgot to cancel my 
reservation at a hotel in San Francisco ... I don't understand her when 
she's like that! Every once in awhile she flips and then raves about the 
damnedest things. I put up with it, though, because she inevitably softens 
up and becomes shy as hell. Fucks as though the world was coming to an end. 
That reminds me, let's set up the projector and see what this film's all 
about." 

"That's a great idea," Richard said agreeably, thankful that Tom had ended 
the conversation about Wanda. 

"Give me your glass then, and I'll make us a couple of real king-size 
drinks, enough to last us so we won't go dry during the movie," Tom said, 
filling the glasses to the brim with the expensive amber-colored whiskey. 
After he had finished, he came from behind the bar and walked up to the wall 
on the other side of the room, then pulled down the permanently-fixed 
screen. Meanwhile, Richard put to work his technical skill and began to 
thread the film leader through the complex of rollers and other 
appurtenances on the side of the projector. 

"Boy, this sounds pretty wild," Richard brightened, holding up the flat 
black metal film case. "It's called believe it or not "Life on a Farm" ... 
Series Al." 

"I know, listen, man, it's only because you're about my best friend that I 
didn't give it a preview first. But I thought I'd save it to see with you, 
because I'm one of those boorish bastards who's always telling people what's 
coming next. You know, when I've seen a movie before anyone else ... I can't 
shut up." 

"Well, don't feel guilty. I'm the same way. But come on, the hell with 
talking ... Why don't we see if the star can really be a farmer?" Richard 
was feeling his drinks, but more than that, he was at ease with himself 
because of Tom's obvious ignorance about the good banging he had given his 
wife on the night of the party at his house. 

"You don't see me hiding my eyes," Tom slurred. "Go to it, turn it on Roll 
em!" 

Richard nodded and flipped the switch at the back of the projector. They 
both tilted up their glasses for a drink, as though to steel themselves for 
the thrills to come. They squirmed on the bar stools to secure better 
positions as they leaned back with their elbows on the rolls of leather at 
the edge of the bar. 

First, there was the usual montage of black slashes and numbers on the 
screen. Then the clattering of the projector ceased and the title 
appeared..."Life on a Farm", produced and directed by Angus Leach-A.L. 
Production. Two girls were on stage with a large black goat in what appeared 
to be a jungle scene. Both were naked. One girl was seated in the bowl of a 
huge rock with her head thrown back, her identity obscured by the camera 
angle and the other girl's lush form. The goat was mounted on the rock with 
his forefeet just outside the seated girl's thighs. The foremost girl knelt 
and began to manipulate the goat's genitals. When the beast's cock emerged 
from his sheath, she took it fully into her mouth and began to suck and draw 
on the hard wet length. 

"Jesus, look at that!" Tom huffed. "Wanda was right when she said this was a 
winner!" He was already engrossed in watching the film when Richard turned 
to nod his head up and down in appreciative agreement. 

The passionate animal was close to orgasm. The pretty blonde girl seemed to 
sense it and pulled the creature's humping buttocks forward to better 
facilitate his lewd thrusts into her mouth. His buttocks quivered and he 
drove faster, faster, until the girl's cheeks bloated with his dense flow of 
sperm. She swallowed in rapid succession, still sucking obscenely at the 
thick shaft to withdraw every last ounce of cum she could. The sticky white 
liquid dribbled out from between her lips, down onto her chest. Exhausted, 
the goat dismounted the rock and was led away by the blonde. The other 
girl's lower body was then exposed. The camera moved in for a close-up of 
her ivory buttocks and the moist, slightly-parted cleft of her hair lined 
cunt. She wriggled down deeper into the hollowed out space in the rock and 
spread open her legs, showing more clearly the area of her pussy and the 
dark ring around her ass-hole. 

There was a tiny birthmark on one half of the girl's buttocks. That was 
clearly visible. 

"Holy shit!" Tom bombed, "I can't wait to see how they top that." Richard 
remained quiet, somewhat distant as he studied the screen. 

While the girl on the rock waited in readiness, the blonde led up a second 
goat, blacker and huskier than the first. At the gentlest prompting, the big 
brute reared and took a sound position between the prone girl's thighs. The 
blonde fell to her knees and once again stimulated her charge by 
masturbating the sheath encased penis of the animal to erection. The long 
knobby cock slid inch by inch into view ... As the blonde stepped away, the 
seated girl raised her head to watch the goat's organ split her throbbing 
cunt and ram into her. Her lips were parted, her pointed red tongue clenched 
between her teeth, signifying the degree of her lascivious joy at this 
debasing act. 

"Good God, it's Grace!" Tom cried dumbfoundedly. Immediately, he reached 
behind him to shut off the projector on the bar. 

"No, let it go," Richard said softly, his face ashen, his body shaking with 
the force of barely-concealed emotion. The two men stared at each other for 
a long painful moment, then Tom began the machine again. The whirring sound 
was painfully loud, the picture as clear as a bell. 

The intensity of Grace's crazed lust increased as the goat banged harder 
against her, sinking his inflamed shaft further and further into her willing 
vagina. She grimaced as the thrusting cock tip gouged her cervix and sent 
delicious waves of pain and pleasure through her. She caressed the wide base 
of the cock at the peak of each of its lunges into her, her hands drooping 
to fondle the balls below it at the back-stroke. 

Richard was transfixed, his mind afire with fury and shock. Slowly, dimly, 
the initials "A.L." surfaced on his consciousness ... Suddenly it came to 
him, A.L.! The bank book hidden away under the books, the money ... His wife 
was a whore, a sneaking slut! The realization broke like a tidal wave 
throughout his tensed body. He turned to look at Tom, hoping his friend 
would somehow know the real depth of agony and embarrassment he was feeling. 
But Tom was thoroughly absorbed in the depraved exhibition on the screen. He 
bristled anew at the sight of Tom's meaty hand rubbing the pronounced lump 
jutting up from the crotch of his pants. His best friend was turned on, 
actually hot at the most humiliating moment of Richard's life! Fighting with 
himself, Richard faced the screen again. 

He could barely focus his eyes, but had to. Grace ground her cunt up to meet 
the beast's hard driving cock. Her pleasure-wracked body twisted and writhed 
as the dumb animal fucked into her hot, hungrily milking vagina like a 
jack-hammer. And she liked it! 

"Man, look at her go!" Tom yelled, his hand now plunged down inside his 
pants, pulling at his cock without shame. As Richard watched, horrified, his 
excited neighbor began to buck uncontrollably on the stool, holding his 
penis as it spewed gush after gush of cum in the crotch of his pants. 

Richard turned again to view the lustful coupling on the screen and saw the 
crazily fucking goat was cumming deep in Grace's belly. Her face was pinched 
and her nostrils were flaring from the effects of her own ecstasy. My God, 
he had no idea she could ever get that excited ... and over a dumb animal! 

 CHAPTER TEN 

The three girls sat cozily around the round table in Hollie's kitchen, 
sipping the last of their coffee and chatting about incidentals. The main 
topic, the argument between Wanda and Grace, had long ago been settled. They 
had both apologized and were now feeling repentant for the harsh words they 
had exchanged. Only Wanda was not truly relaxed. She kept glancing up at the 
clock on the shelf over the cabinet next to the sink. 

"Don't you think we ought to wind this up?" asked her friends. "It's getting 
late and besides, we'd better not let Tom and Richard get the idea that 
we've abandoned them. "As usual, you're probably right, Wanda, I dread 
facing my husband though ... I can't remember when I've ever put his dinner 
in the oven, with only a note to explain my whereabouts and why he has to 
eat alone." 

"Now stop worrying, Grace," Hollie admonished. "After all, you and Wanda are 
the ones who've been telling me to break loose and start thinking about 
myself. Well, I've done it now, and it's only right that I give you back 
some of your own advice." 

Grace smiled broadly and drained the last of her cold coffee as Hollie rose 
to put away the cream and rinse the dish that had been heaped high with 
cookies and candy. For the first time since her hostile encounter with 
Wanda, Grace was thawing emotionally and looking upon her break with Angus 
as a boon and not the repetition of hopeless failure that had been the story 
of her life. Hollie turned toward her two friends, sighed and excused 
herself: "I'm sorry, but I've simply got to go to the bathroom before you 
leave." 

When their hostess had pulled the door to the bathroom and turned on the 
faucet, presumably to drown out the sound, Wanda pushed aside the ashtray in 
front of her and leaned forward toward Grace. 

"Grace, no matter what you may think of me after tonight, let me say I'm 
sorry. You don't know what I'm talking about as yet, but just try to chalk 
up what's coming to old Wanda's damned foolishness. Anyway, forgive me..." 
Wanda's eyes were filled with tears, long streaks of mascara running down 
her cheeks. 

Grace was overcome with the sincerity of Wanda's plea, still not aware of 
its meaning nor the force of her friend's remorse. She was on the verge of 
replying when Hollie breezed in, her colossal breasts still bouncing even 
after she had come to a halt in the doorway. 

"What's wrong?" Hollie asked, taking in the somber expression on Wanda's 
face. "Did I barge in at the wrong time again?" 

"No, never mind," Wanda said, quickly composing herself. "It's just that I'm 
tired and want to go home, now." 

"Yes, I suppose that's a good idea. I'm tired too. Plus, I haven't seen my 
husband since early this morning. He's going to kill me, I'm afraid, because 
I had the nerve to take off with hardly any justification." 

The three girls rushed around the kitchen, cleaning up and avoiding each 
other's eyes. When the silence was no longer bearable, Hollie broke in with 
a giggle and said, "Tom asked about you today, Wanda. He was really 
concerned about your state of mind. He told me to warn you that he might 
drop by some day soon. He was only kidding, of course." 

"Of course," Wanda said. "That will be a surprise." 

Wanda and Grace invited Hollie to join them for a night cap and walked down 
the block to Wanda's house. Tom had just returned from the bathroom when the 
two wives and Hollie walked into the play room. The women knew at once that 
something was wrong, there was an atmosphere of discomfort and hate filling 
the room. Richard was still on the stool, staring down wordlessly at the 
floor. Wanda moved quickly to the bar and turned off the movie projector, 
which had played through the film some time ago and was then casting only a 
stark white blankness on the screen. 

"You knew, didn't you?" Tom asked in undertone. Wanda did not answer and 
continued to stare away from him, her expression a confession of guilt. "You 
knew, didn't you?" he asked again, his voice rising in anger. 

"Yes, I knew. I'm sorry, please forgive me." Wanda sobbing openly fled from 
the room. 

"What's going on here?" Hollie blurted out. No one answered the untimely 
question, the tenseness in the air reigned on, uninterrupted except for 
Tom's shame-faced retreat to the bar to fix himself another drink. 

"Anyone for a nightcap? ... Richard?" 

Grace turned to watch Richard's reaction to the question, but there was 
none. He simply looked down, his eyes glassy and remote, his lips curved 
sneeringly as if he were thinking of some naughty private joke. She knew the 
look, had seen it on numerous occasions when some major disaster had 
affected him. 

"Richard, I'm sorry too," Grace said. "I know you're angry with me, but 
listen..." 

"Be quiet! Just be quiet!" Richard whispered. 

"But I fixed your favorite casserole for dinner. Wanda and I, oh please, I'm 
sorry I wasn't home!" 

Hollie mustered her courage and stepped up to Richard. "Let's all have that 
nightcap Tom offered." Still, no one moved or made any indication that 
Hollie's newfound self confidence was worth even the least attention. 

"Tom, I fucked your wife. I fucked her in her pussy, Tom, and I think I'll 
fuck her from now on, every time you're out of town." Richard's black eyes 
twinkled almost gaily as they searched from face to face to appraise the 
effect of his words. "Why, Tom, old buddy, what's bothering you? Don't tell 
me you can't handle the truth about your hot pants little wife. You don't 
actually think she sits around here with a pillow over her pussy dreaming of 
you, while you're gone, do you?" 

"Richard, hadn't we better go?" Grace asked softly. "We can talk this over 
at home." 

"Yes, of course, my loyal little Grace, my industrious little wife. Of 
course we can talk this over at home. For that matter, we can sit down over 
a nice hot cup of coffee and decide what we're going to spend your hard 
earned whore money on, but you'd best consult Tom, before we make any 
decisions. Right? He's fucking you too, isn't he? Oh, I almost forgot! Oh, I 
almost forgot! Angus Leech should have a say too, shouldn't he? He helped 
you to stardom, didn't he?I've always wondered what it would be like to make 
love to an actress. They say it's pure hell, but now I know that's a lot of 
shit. You've been wonderful, love, just wonderful.-No trouble at all, but 
then, even I can understand why. You haven't had the difficulties an actress 
normally has, no husband to interfere with your performances, no fans 
milling around outside your door, yelling for autographs. None of the 
legendary hassles beautiful actresses usually have with press agents and 
gossip columnists. God only knows, from what I've seen, you don't need a 
psychiatrist to figure out your sex problems. It's all quite simple. We'll 
buy a farm and stock it with big black goats, maybe, and bulls. And 
chickens. Have you tried roosters yet, Grace? I'll bet my last dime that 
they're great too-one of your better lays ... I would imagine." 

"Oh please, this is scary, please stop!" Hollie whimpered, the meaning of 
the tension finally starting to penetrate her innocent understanding of the 
circumstances. 

The young girl's plea stabbed through Richard's consciousness like a bolt of 
lightning. He whipped around his head to locate the source of the voice, 
gave Hollie an apologetic smile, then took Grace's arm to leave. 

"We'll be seeing you around, Tom ... I guess." 

With that statement Richard took Grace's arm and ushered her hurriedly out 
the door. They had a lot to talk about this night and he was going to get 
some reaction from her even if he had to fuck her to death. That's exactly 
what she deserved, a good hard Fucking, by God! 

* * * 

At home, Grace and Richard undressed for bed, their mutual silence hanging 
like a pall in the air. There was no doubt now that he knew where and how 
she had earned her extra money. And he had publicly admitted his infidelity 
with Wanda. If only he would unbend; if only they could sit down and talk 
over their marriage, the events of the last month, the killing distance 
between them. 

"How many men have you been fucked by Grace? How many cocks have you had up 
your sweet little cunt? Tell me!" 

"Richard, I think we're both too upset to discuss this rationally. 
Tomorrow's another day and all I can say right now is that I'm sorry. I did 
what I did for you, for us, to help us out of the financial rut we've been 
in for years." 

"Aha!" Richard howled, his arms extended, the nasty sneer he had worn 
earlier returning to his face. "I thought you'd at least come up with 
something more imaginative than that." 

Grace chose not to acknowledge his last remark, knowing that anything she 
said would simply incite him to further anger. She went on undressing in 
silence, peeling her thin pink panties down over her still exquisite 
buttocks, shedding her last defense against total vulnerability. Turning, 
she saw that Richard was also naked, standing beside the bed with his hands 
on his hips, his eyes gleamingly fixed on her ivory buttocks where, a moment 
before, the telltale birthmark had been exposed to his burning gaze on the 
screen. 

"Come here, love," he demanded softly, as he eased himself to a prone 
position on the bed. Is your little cunt hungry, or did you get yours 
already today? Come over and sit with Richard, your husband, the one with 
all the legal privileges, or had you forgotten?" A thin cruel smile played 
across his lips as he patted the edge of the bed beside him. 

Hesitantly she stepped over to the bed, watching as he stroked the rock-hard 
length of his pulsing rod. "Richard, please, you must believe me. I only did 
it for the money ... I mean-" she began as he reached up to jerk her down 
beside him on the blanket. 

"Ah, my thoughtful little wife whore. Well, now let's see what you've 
learned in your recent travels," he snapped. "If you're good enough, I may 
even pimp for you." His hand snaked out to twine into her hair, twisting it 
painfully around his fingers as he pushed her face down toward his belly. As 
she tried to pull away from his agonizing grasp, he snarled. "What's the 
matter, baby. Do you only do it for cash? I'm your husband remember?" 

Grace felt the smooth blood engorged head of his lurching cock pressing 
bluntly into the soft skin of her cheek. Straining to turn her head up to 
face him, she pleaded. "Please, Richard, don't do this to us. I love you." 
With a bestial grunt, he pushed her down again and heaved his pelvis upward, 
lodging his thick, aroused cock between her yielding lips. 

She tenderly kissed the tip of its head, then took it into her mouth, 
accepting as rightful whatever humiliating abuse he would subject her to. 
Her tight lips moved slowly down his cock, her tongue working persuasively 
as she lowered onto it, tasting the pungent tang of his viscous cum seeping 
from the tip. 

"Oooh, Grace!" Richard groaned as the warm elastic pressure of her lips and 
the skillful darting of her pointed tongue caused him to stab his distended 
column deeper into her mouth, forcing it toward her throat like a throbbing, 
aching wand of pleasure. 

Christ! He loved her! Right at that moment he was certain of it. She was his 
wife and, besides, no one had ever sucked his cock like this before. "Suck 
it, God, Oooh! I do love you!" 

Her heart leapt as she heard the words rasped breathlessly from the 
lust-contorted lips of her husband. Holding his penis in one hand, she eased 
down on his loins, beginning to draw it steadily up and down through her 
open lips, twisting her tongue at the peak of each stroke. 

As he raised his head to watch, the sight of her lovely cheeks, bloating and 
hollowing with each thrust, drove him to a greater frenzy. She gasped and 
sucked harder as he began a rhythmic pounding into her mouth, brutally 
crashing the huge muscled cock against the tender tissue of the back of her 
throat. 

"Oh, baby, I love you ... love you," he whispered hoarsely as the glans of 
his hardened penis pulsed maddeningly beneath her tongue. Her breasts 
quivered and billowed below her buffeted torso as he slammed his groin into 
her face, fucking her receptive mouth with his straining rod of hardened 
flesh. His cock felt ready to explode, the pressure in his pulsing balls 
building to a bursting point. 

He writhed his buttocks, pulling her head down to engulf his fiery organ as 
he felt the white hot stream from deep in his bloated testicles mounting the 
length of his rod to explode in jet-like streams far into her throat, 
filling her cheeks as she gulped wildly to swallow it all to keep from 
loosing a single drop. 

With a last massive thrust, he emptied a torrent of the fluid into her 
mouth, watching amazed as she greedily drew out the last dregs of sperm 
still caught in his shrinking penis. 

He fell back onto the bed while she lay contentedly across his stomach, 
cradling the limp organ in her warm palm and stroking it gently with her 
other hand. 

"Darling, darling, you're wonderful! You don't know how happy I am now," 
Grace said softly. 

Richard was silent for a moment and then said, "Grace, I couldn't believe it 
when Tom ran those movies! I couldn't believe you could possibly get into 
that kind of thing ... but I have been thinking ... I guess our lovemaking 
hasn't been all that great, has it? Both of us have needed to learn a lot, 
about ourselves. I love you and have always needed you, but it's taken all 
this for me to realize how desirable you really are to me: Honey, now I know 
that you've wanted me just as much! 

And now I'm sorry that Wanda and I had an affair at the party and I..." he 
faltered. 

"Sshhh, darling, I'm not sorry at all now ... you and I have both learned 
something by being with other partners. I thought that I was not a good wife 
to you ... I thought that I must be frigid, but after all of this and 
tonight with you, I know I'm not! I did enjoy it with all those others! I 
could just imagine that it was you fucking me and I would go wild!" Grace 
explained. 

"Grace?" 

"Yes"? she answered. 

"I love you very much, and let's start all over with our marriage. We'll be 
newlyweds again and learn all about our needs and finally make love like we 
could have been doing these last few years!" Richard went on excitedly. 
"What do you think of our moving away from here and starting all over again? 
I can request a transfer from the company and I am sure it can be arranged 
... would you want to?" 

"Oh, Richard, yes I'd love it!" she squealed happily. 

"It's settled! I'll set it up the first thing in the morning. Now, let's get 
down to business, I want to give you the fucking of your life! 

"Darling, you have got a deal!" 

* * * 

Then, with a low groan, Richard began massaging her lushly ripened breasts, 
rolling the nipples between his skillful fingers and caressing the sensitive 
areolas with the palms of his hands. Grace moaned up into his hot mouth. She 
wanted to respond to his advances on her sensitive flesh. The gentle playing 
of his fingers on her tingling young breasts sent burning waves of unbridled 
lust racing down into her quivering loins. Her control vanished like ice 
before the heat of her passion, and her groans gradually became moans of 
ecstasy. 

Grasping the twin mounds of the young woman's ripely rounded buttocks in his 
outspread fingers, Richard pulled her beautiful young body still tighter up 
against his hard aching cock. He could feel her soft breasts pressed against 
his muscled chest, the tiny rigid nipples like buttons pushing into his 
skin. Through her thin nylon gown he could feel her supple ass cheeks 
clenching and unclenching in an undeniable expression of hunger. Finally, 
his hand stroked lower to brush against the softness up between her thighs. 
He exalted at the feeling of the hot moisture of anticipation! 

Slowly, willing to stop if she made any real sign of resisting, Richard 
insinuated his fingers under her gown and eased them down toward the silky 
mass of pubic hair in the hidden vee up between her thighs. As Grace 
stiffened with excitement, he stroked enticingly across her pubic mound, 
working his outstretched middle finger up into the moist heated opening of 
her cunt. 

"Oh, Richard! Please! Yes, yes!" she gasped. Grace tried not to jerk her 
helplessly trembling loins away from his invading finger and, Richard 
continued to slip his finger in and out, deeper and deeper up into the tight 
confines of her hotly quivering pussy. And, in spite of her seeming 
reluctance, the young wife began squirming her clasping little cunt madly 
around on his outstretched middle finger, the flames of lust quickening with 
each ecstatic thrust up into her now wet pussy. 

He slipped his finger further up into the tight confines of her moist pussy, 
and slowly began to increase the in and out fucking motion. Her hot cuntal 
fluids were flowing copiously now, and his finger slid easily in the slick 
moisture as he fucked in and out of her clasping cuntal lips. 

"Oh, Ooohhh!" she screamed, sensing that her aroused body was now helplessly 
caught up in the sharp flashes of lust that danced throughout her entire 
body. Even as she protested, against her will, her unresisting soft, white 
glistening thighs were spreading farther and farther apart to give him 
complete access to her curl fringed cunt. 

Richard's eyes feasted greedily on the shivering young body of his wife 
squirming hungrily in his embrace. Lewd pictures of what he was going to do 
next to this new born wife ran vividly through his head. Never in his 
wildest dreams had he expected to have Grace at his mercy like this. The way 
she was twisting in his arms, she was practically begging to get fucked like 
this. Richard had never seen Grace get so hot so fast and this was only the 
beginning of what he had planned for her sweet little pussy. 

Suddenly, he could wait no longer to ram his impatiently throbbing cock up 
to the hilt in that hot fleshy hole up between her legs. 

Grabbing Grace around the waist, he pressed her down onto the edge of the 
king sized bed. God! he wished he had done this to her before! This lovely 
wife of his was ready, at last, for him! 

Pulling Grace gently down onto the edge of the large bed, he gradually eased 
her head back until she was lying with her long tapered legs spread out wide 
on either side of him, her calves hanging down with her feet flat on the 
floor. He was bending over her heaving form, his lips still fastened 
passionately to hers, and he could feel her eagerly squirming cunt grinding 
around in heated desperation up against his rock hard penis. 

And then ... Grace never knew how it happened, she was rising up off the 
mattress of her own accord so he could slip her gown completely off! The 
cool rush of air over her exposed naked body sent thrills of pleasure 
running through her inner thighs, and she wantonly spread her long legs 
wider apart, offering her unprotected young pussy up to the mercy of his 
passionate gaze. 

"Ohhh, God!" she moaned over and over. 

"I'm going to take care of you, little girl," Richard told her. Dropping 
down with his knees on the floor between her widely spread legs, his face 
level with her slowly gyrating pussy, he could see the soft pink inner pussy 
lips contrasting with her white thighs glistening inches away from his 
hungering mouth. The lewd sight of her helplessly opened cunt made his cock 
throb with an aching desire, but first he wanted to put Grace at the peak of 
sensual ecstasy, then he would take his swollen penis out and plunge his 
long thick cock up into the depths of her quivering pale belly. 

Placing the palms of his hands on either side of the moistly layered outer 
flanges of her aroused pussy, he eased her tiny cuntal mouth open. Richard 
moaned excitedly at the unbelievable succulent sight before him. The small 
pink hole of her desirous vagina was palpitating visibly up inside as if 
beckoning his tongue to fill her pungent little cuntal depths to the 
fullest. 

A little at a time, Richard lowered his mouth closer to her nakedly exposed 
loins, thrusting his tongue out to probe teasingly at the tiny erect bud of 
her clitoris. He could feel the tickly softness of her shining pussy hair 
against his cheeks and the perfumed heat of her desirable cunt made his cum 
laden balls pulsate with desire. 

From the first wet electric contact with her clitoris, Grace groaned and 
pushed her pelvis wantonly upward. But Richard leaned forward, holding his 
extended tongue pressed hotly against the tiny aroused clitoris of her cunt. 

She raised her head and the obscene view of Richard's face buried up between 
her thighs and his raping tongue spearing deep into the sensitive wet walls 
of her pussy sent pure spasms of insane desire coursing wildly through her 
submissive body. She thought of all the years they had wasted by being so 
inhibited with one another, ... this was wonderful and she lowered her head 
back onto the bed, her mind and body spinning in a world of licentious 
gratification that she had never had with Richard. 

He sensed the lust inciting effect his lewd ministrations were having on his 
wife's erratically trembling loins as her naked buttocks slowly began to 
rotate on the bed, screwing her wetly heated pussy up hard against his face. 
Her moistly clasping vaginal passage contracted, opening and closing tightly 
around the long smooth length of his tongue swirling deep around up inside 
her openly spread cunt. He listened to her moans and gasps growing in volume 
and intensity as he began tongue fucking her in earnest. 

Now, her cries had become one long low ceaseless moan of pleasure as she 
jerked her legs up and his tongue dipped down into the narrow crevice of her 
light hued buttocks and licked lightly over her tiny puckered little anus. 
Then he ran his tongue back up over her pussy mouth, enveloping the whole 
hair line opening with the hotness of his lips, sucking at her wildly 
quivering clitoris with his hungrily sucking mouth. 

"Goood! Soooooo goood!" Grace chanted, her body and mind completely out of 
control now from the delicious oral impalement of her hot cunt. He felt her 
feet scraping in rapture against his upper back, felt the muscles of her 
tightly flexing inner thighs tensing and contracting against his ears as he 
licked and sucked at her wide split pussy with a wild animal lust that 
threatened to drive both of them totally insane with passion. 

With her wanton desire increasing with each wicked thrust of Richard's 
tongue up into the wide stretched opening to her womb, she thrust her hips 
harder into his slavering mouth. He worked patiently over her sweet, hair 
lined flesh grinding so passionately up against his sucking mouth and the 
abandoned young wife's soft inner vaginal walls trembled and gushed forth 
hot, liquid juices of passion from the never before attainable intensity of 
ravenous lust with her own husband. 

Richard knew her impending climax was almost here from the unmistakable 
frantic rhythm building up under his skewering tongue, the gradually 
increasing tempo of her pelvic gyrations up against his face, and he knew it 
was time to give her what her hungry cunt wanted. Blowing lightly into her 
moistened pussy and flicking his tongue before him he reached down and began 
stroking his own stiffened penis causing it to throb in anticipation. 

He wanted to feel Grace's pulsing cuntal softness clasping around his penis 
when she started that orgasm she so desperately needed, and he wanted to 
fill her hot little belly with his own boiling hot semen when that ecstatic 
moment came at last. His hard thick cock ached from having waited this long 
to put its lust stiffened length deep into her gaping hole, and he squeezed 
the glands between his thumb and forefinger to keep from cumming right then 
and there.... 

Abruptly, he lifted his wetly smeared face from between her shimmering 
thighs and stood up, levering his cock head down into position to fuck up 
into her widely spread cuntal lips. 

"Now, I'm going to really fuck you," he said his voice husky with lust. "And 
this will be the best fuck you've ever had!" 

At his words, Grace looked up from the mattress and saw between her 
outspread thighs at the massive length of the throbbing cock that was about 
to penetrate her throbbing vagina. It was huge! He had never been that 
swollen and hard looking before, and she didn't know how it would feel being 
fucked by Richard with his cock like that. 

"Open up! Hurry! I'm coming in!" Richard grunted, as he flexed his buttocks 
to thrust forward into the hotly tantalizing moistness of her cringing 
pussy. "I'm fucking up into your hot little pussy!" the lust driven man 
muttered, shoving his lust thickened hardness farther into her widely 
stretching cuntal opening with his every word. 

"Ohhh, its sooo niceee!" she whimpered. 

In an attempt to ease the entrance, the impaled young wife reached down with 
her hands and placed her fingertips on either side of the piercing rod of 
hard flesh, pulling the curl fringed lips of her painfully stretched cunt to 
the sides to give his swollen penis easier access to it. Seeing her fingers 
close to his cock as it was slowly disappearing up into her moistly pulsing 
cunt was too lewdly exciting for Richard to bear, and, with one more heavy, 
cunt ramming lunge, he buried the remaining inches of his rigid rod all the 
way to the hilt inside her hot little belly. 

"Aaaaaaggghhh!" she screamed. 

"Oh Christ! What a tight little pussy you have!" He groaned above her, his 
eyes still fixed on the obscene coupling of their two struggling bodies. He 
could feel her nakedly rounded buttocks clenching against his heavily 
swaying balls, while the wet clasping walls of her pussy gradually began to 
accommodate his blood engorged thickness. 

He held his pelvis tightly pressed into her pubic mound, waiting for her to 
plead with him to go on. Gritting his teeth from the unbearable ecstasy 
threatening to make him cum at any moment ... waiting, waiting for her to 
utter the words he knew she would eventually blurt out in her helpless 
passion. He had waited years for her to say them and he could wait a while 
longer ... maybe. His lust clouded eyes focused on her tortured lips, and he 
saw them tighten to form the longed for words.... 

"Oh, Richard, Fuck me! God, I need you so!" 

With those words Richard could feel her hotly clasping cunt grinding eagerly 
up against the whiteness of his long thick cock in a lewd invitation for him 
to begin fucking in and out of her ecstatically rippling cuntal walls. 

Slowly, he began withdrawing his wetly glistening cock from the moist 
softness of her inner cunt until only the broad cock head was left inside 
his clinging sheath. With a long smooth stroke, his thick hardness shoved 
her smooth pussy walls aside once more as his penis fucked back deep up 
inside her depths. A rhythm which brought low crooning sounds of pleasure 
from her desire constricted throat. 

Gradually, he increased the tempo as he felt her slick cuntal fluids seeping 
in abundance around his deeply embedded hardness, and he fucked into her 
passionate pussy until finally he began to feel her tiny answering motions 
grow in intensity. Her vaginal mound jerked downward as he withdrew from her 
clasping pussy, trying vainly to hold him deep inside her. Richard moaned 
above her from the maddening sensations her movements sent bolting through 
his loins. "Keep fucking hard on my cock! like that!" he commanded. 

"Ohhh, ohhh, harder! Fuck me harder!" she begged desperately, her head 
tossing in abandon from side to side. Her eyes were closed in rapture as she 
raised her legs up to lock her thighs around behind his naked buttocks as he 
fucked wildly in and out of her pleasure tortured vagina. The initial 
discomfort was gone now, and all that mattered was the thick pole of flesh 
that was fucking her so beautifully. Sprawled across her curvaceous body, 
Richard gave her what she was asking for, increasing the speed of his body 
racking strokes while her greedy little pussy fucked up and down on his 
heavily stiffened cock like a bitch in heat. 

He wanted her twisting and turning under him when he finally filled her with 
his white hot sperm. She would be impossible to satisfy after this unless 
she was getting fucked exactly like he was doing now. Slowly at first, then 
wilder, until she would think her head was going to explode. He had the 
secret at last, from now on she was going to be fucked exactly like this ... 
like he had always wanted to fuck her. 

Grace was reaching heights she had never known existed and she spasmodically 
flexed her pelvis muscles, the downward motion bringing her quivering 
clitoris into direct contact with the tip of Richard's hotly driving penis. 
This sent such thrills of sensual delight racing through her shamelessly 
aroused body that she did it again with each plunge into her. Grace's 
frantically shuddering cunt was now clasping around his cock shaft like a 
glove, and she could feel every blood expanded ridge of his hard plunging 
flesh as it fucked in and out of her hungrily devouring pussy like a piston 
gone mad. 

"Oh yes! like that! Keep fucking me like that!" she whimpered up at him, her 
normal voice escaping her now with the intensity of her carnal pleasures. 
Her mouth hung limply open and her eyes were clenched tightly shut as her 
nostrils began a frenzied animalistic flowing in time to his mind shattering 
pelvic strokes, building her forbidden passion to a sharper edge as she 
screwed her lunging hips up and down beneath him. "Darling ... it's sooo 
goood!" the lust-drugged wife murmured again and again. 

Her entire body was filling with an overpowering need to reach satisfaction, 
relinquishing all her inhibitions to the erotically tingling sensations 
running up and down her thighs. Irresistable sparks of pleasure seemed to 
light flames inside her clasping womb and flash madly through her veins. The 
sensations rippled through her cunt and out the dark hair lined pussy lips, 
dancing up across the surface of her heaving belly and blazing in her erect 
nipples until they felt like two red coals on her naked breasts. 

"That's it, grind your hot little cunt up hard on my cock. like that!" he 
murmured breathlessly. He could feel the tiny rings of muscles inside her 
hot cuntal mouth tightening and nibbling around his hard penis. The 
widespread cuntal lips between her splayed out thighs pulled and sucked 
tantalizingly on him as he withdrew his lust hardened rod until only the 
bloated tip remained inside her wetly rippling cunt, then he slowly fucked 
forward again, feeling her nibbling vagina welcoming him as he buried the 
full length of his huge throbbing shaft deep up into her hungry cunt. 

"Oh, Richard! Fuck me!" she cried. 

Smiling in triumph, he took his hands away from her melon like breasts, and 
put them down under her nakedly thrashing buttocks to raise them up off the 
wildly squeaking bed. He watched in lewd fascination the slow withdrawal of 
his glistening cock, soft thin ridges of the girl's pink cuntal flesh 
clinging to his swollen penis as she screwed her ass cheeks down onto the 
softness of the bed. Sweating, he let her strain up and down beneath him for 
a while, a half crazed smile playing over her beautiful, slightly parted 
lips. Grace's movements became faster and the force of her thrusts 
pressuring up against his rigid penis became more and more urgent, her teeth 
bit hard into her lower lips as she strained to cum all over his heavily 
aching, ready to explode cock. 

Her desperate young vagina seemed to be milking at his bursting rod, her 
cuntal juices flowed so freely now that he could hear the lewd sucking sound 
her hot little pussy was making as they fucked. 

She arched her back up and thrust her cunt wildly up at his well muscled 
body, swallowing the huge expanded penis deep inside of her lusting body. 
Richard's hands were kneading at her glistening ass beneath until she was 
balanced back up on her shoulders, her thighs clamping his hips. With the 
fury of a madwoman, she began to fuck viciously now up to his impaling cock 
while he answered her by ramming his throbbing penis over into the hotly 
devouring furrow of her vaginal slit. His piston-like thrusts into her 
convulsing young cunt bumped his wife's head back and forth on the bed as 
she finally gasped out her shattering fulfillment. 

"I'm cumming! Oooooohhh, God! I'm cumming!" 

Richard was fucking into her now wildly churning cunt for all he was worth 
and gritting his teeth from the effort he was making. He could feel his 
heavy cum laden balls slapping repeatedly up against her quivering ass 
cheeks, and he heard her give out a low deep groan as her whole voluptuous 
body began to vibrate uncontrollably under his savage thrusts. Her hot 
gushing cum oozed out from her convulsing cuntal passage to flow around his 
hard long cock, before trickling lewdly down the crevice of her undulating 
ass. 

He kept fucking into her as hard as he could, the strength of his rhythmic 
thrusts causing her legs to splay up and out to the side. Now that her wetly 
gaping pussy was completely vulnerable to his pile driving strokes, Richard 
rammed forward all the way up into her until his pelvic bones smacked hard 
against her pubic mound. 

Then he simply went mad. Relentlessly he fucked his rigid cock in and out of 
her frantically moving cunt, smashing into her at a tempo that made her 
whole body begin to shudder uncontrollably a second time as the maddening 
cock of hard implacable flesh bored into her spasmaticly jerking pussy over 
and over, like a runaway car. 

"Oh, you are a hot little bitch!" He hissed through tightly clenched teeth. 
Now he could feel his churning cum beginning to flow through his heated 
balls as they slapped harder and harder against Grace's writhing ass cheeks. 
He was about to explode ... but she was cumming again! She began screaming 
out her second orgasm, right on top of the first one and the third one was 
already building up in her insanely thrashing cunt. 

His jerking cock expanded until he thought it would burst, and then he felt 
the machine gun burst of spewing semen begin deep in his bursting testicles. 

"Here it comes ... I'm cumming too!" he grunted and strained above her. 

"Oh, fill me! God yes! Fill me with your hot cum!" Grace gasped as she felt 
streams of burning white semen shooting deep into her clasping pussy. 

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" he ranted mindlessly. "I'm filling your cunt 
with my cum!" 

"I'm doing it again! Aaaggghhh!" she called to him. 

The seeming endless spurts of cum spewed like hot lava into her convulsing 
young pussy as Richard groaned above her like an animal. Her rippling little 
cunt was clamped powerfully around his maleness as he gave one last deep 
lunge up into her warm belly, and held it there, spilling out the last thin 
jet of cum into her voraciously sucking pussy walls. 

His knees were trembling from the force of the orgasm, and Richard watched 
his slowly deflating penis slip wetly out of Grace's cum filled cunt. Her 
long smooth legs dangled limply over the edge of the bed and her body 
gradually quieted to a stillness as the last ripples of her own orgasm 
flickered hotly around inside her and then quieted. 

As Richard allowed his limp wet cock to withdraw from her steaming pussy he 
could see her well fucked cunt flutter slightly as a thin web of his white 
semen seeped out its still slightly quivering lips. 

"Now I've finally done it, I've made a wife out of you. In fact I made a 
husband out of me!" Richard said quietly, taking Grace in his arms. "We have 
learned a bit about love making in the last few days and I for one am happy 
about it. We're going to have a wonderful life together from now on, okay?" 

"Yes we will, providing you always make love to me like that! I didn't know 
you could be so good." she said with love in her eyes. "Richard?" she asked, 
"do you think that you will be able to get that job in another city? I hope 
so." 

"Yes, I know it can be worked out with the boss. But Grace, before we move 
let's throw a party for our friends...." 

"Oh, that's a great idea ... now let's see, we can invite Wanda, the 
Martin's, Hollie and ... well all of the neighbors! Maybe even Irish and 
Angus can come ... unless you would mind?" 

"With a grin on his face he said, "Well dear, what's a party without those 
two...." 


THE END
