Every Kid In The Pack
by Sharon Gordon
(RX-287)


FOREWORD 

What's a den mother to do with a house full of horny little cubs, 
overturning everything-especially her lustful desires-every time the pack 
meets at her house? Should she give in to her overwhelming passions and grab 
off one of the little dears and strip him and play with his smooth little 
body? Should she allow herself that last measure to degradation and actually 
seduce the child, introducing him to all manner of adult fun and games ... 
years before his time? 

That's the particular den mother's dilemma that Emily Foster faces in Every 
Kid in the Pack, Sharon Gordon's very first novel. We at Surrey House, Inc. 
consider ourselves quite fortunate that the charming Mrs. Gordon elected to 
submit her manuscript to us. We purchased it immediately and asked Mrs. 
Gordon to rush headlong into a second novel for our Rated X series of 
strictly adult fiction. 

Mrs. Gordon, herself a widow with one small son, lives in Colorado, high up 
in the cool, cool mountains. The snow is there now, she tells us; a 
happening that we, here in sunny San Diego, have great difficulty 
comprehending. A natural phenomenon that always seems to be out of mind in 
the land of forever sunshine and nauseating smog. Perhaps Mrs. Gordon is 
right, is accepting the snows and freezing winters in exchange for a small 
ration of fresh, pollution-free air. 

But we digress ... back to Every Kid in the Pack. If you agree that Mrs. 
Gordon has that essential Extra Something to create superior erotic novels 
for our adult readers, perhaps you'd be kind enough to drop us a note and 
tell us about it. 

-THE PUBLISHERS 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Emily Foster grimaced in pain. Mack's cock was still too goddamn big; it 
hurt her terribly. She buried her face against her husband's shoulder so he 
wouldn't see her tears. Mack always got terribly angry when she didn't enjoy 
it; he was unaware that she had never enjoyed it. 

Emily knew it was psychosomatic, but that didn't make the pain any less 
real. Mack's cock was unusually large, true; but women's cunts were supposed 
to be elastic, to become accustomed to any size organ. Emily's hadn't. 

Mack shoved his huge dick into her with fury, his animal grunts indicating 
that he was close to cumming. 

Emily's penis-fear began on her sixteenth birthday. It had been a joyful day 
and among her many beautiful gifts was a pair of delightfully lacy panties 
and matching bra. She was dying to try them on, and since she was at last 
alone-she thought-she made a mad dash for her room, her new undies in hand. 
Her clothing flew every which way until she stood in the nude. The sheer 
silk felt exquisite as she slid the panties up her thighs. The new bra 
pushed her breasts into plump hills of soft, pink flesh. 

Even at sixteen, Emily's body was lush and full. Her mother was buxom, and 
Em had inherited generously from her. Since she had the largest tits of any 
girl in school, they embarrassed her. Emily's younger sister, Joanie, who 
was three years her junior, burned with envy every time she looked at her 
sister's full, womanly bosom. 

Thinking she was alone, Emily did not close the door to her room, and stood 
preening in front of the mirror, clad only in her new panties and bra. It 
was at this precise moment that her Uncle Lester strolled by. He bit down 
hard on his soggy cigar butt and stared lustfully at the voluptuous young 
girl. 

Uncle Lester was staying with them while he looked for a job. His life's 
work was looking for a job. He was also a boozer and a lecher. Joanie, who 
was more alert in matters of sex than her sister, even though she was 
younger, referred to him as Uncle Luster. 

Lester had been drinking heavily, as usual, and his inhibitions were at an 
alcoholic low. He stepped into her room, his eyes narrowed to slits of lust. 
"Emily, you're gorgeous!" he hissed, acting as if he had never noticed 
before. He had. He was forty-two, and many nights he lay in bed and 
masturbated with thoughts of luscious Emily turning his loins livid with 
desire. 

"Get out! Get out!" Emily screamed. "I'm not dressed." 

"Emily, you're beautiful," he choked, throwing his hairy arms around her. 

Emily screamed, but there was no one to hear her. She kicked, she bit, she 
scratched. Still, Uncle Lester, oblivious to her resistance, hauled down her 
precious new panties and threw her to the bed. 

"Take off the bra ... or I'll rip it off," he growled, as his trousers 
sagged to the floor. 

Uncle Lester had a huge penis. It was long, thick, uncircumcised, and very 
hard. While Emily stared at his massive cudgel in terror, he skinned it back 
and dabbed at the leering head with a gob of spit. Emily lay paralyzed with 
fear and revulsion as he lowered his repulsive body against her. She 
screamed in pain when the knob of his rock-hard cock spread the virgin lips 
of her tiny cunt and tore her maidenhead open with one animal lunge. 

His booze-fogged brain heard nothing but "Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her," and 
he shoved his cock brutally in. Inch by inch he penetrated her ripped cunt 
until all seven fat inches of his club-like prick was wrapped inside her 
tender, young bleeding cunt. He fucked like a mad man. In his drunken 
condition, it took a long time before he groaned and poured his filth into 
her belly. It was the only thing she remembered not hurting-his sticky 
wetness filling her hole. 

Lester jerked his wilting plug from her cummy cunt and got shakily to his 
feet. "I'm sorry, Emily baby, I'm sorry," he whined. "I didn't know what I 
was doing ... I couldn't control myself." 

"Get out of here, you sonofabitch!" she screamed with seldom used profanity. 
"Get out! Get out!" 

Lester dropped to his knees, his hands in a praying position. "Oh God, 
Emily, what have I done? You won't tell your mother, will you? Please don't 
tell your mother, I beg you." 

Emily looked at her Uncle with hatred. "Never fear, I'll never tell anyone, 
you monster. I'm too ashamed," she sobbed. 

The stricken man pulled up his pants and stumbled blindly down the hall, his 
slimy cock grating roughly against his zipper. 

Emily lay motionless for over an hour, her Uncle's juice oozing from her 
cunt onto the bed and mingling with the splotchy bloodstains on the sheet. 
It was something she knew she would never forget. She was scarred for life. 
She knew she was. And if she was pregnant; oh God, what if she was pregnant? 
Fortunately, she wasn't. 

She never looked her uncle in the eye from that day forward, and he was glad 
that she didn't. Still, when he was hard up, which was often, he would take 
his dong in hand and pump with vigor to thoughts of her firm, young body. It 
was the only time in his life that he raped a girl, and it had to be the 
most exciting fuck of his life. When he died from a massive heart seizure at 
forty-seven, he had his cock in his hand and Emily on his mind. Uncle Lester 
never had the good luck to discover that Joanie would have been a far more 
willing rape than her sister. 

Emily refused to date for three years after Uncle Lester's assault, reliving 
each horrible minute nightly. As the memory faded, she met Mack, who was 
four years older than she, and fell in love. After a lightning courtship, 
she knew it was the real thing and became his bride at the age of nineteen. 

She gave herself to him willingly on their wedding night, sure she had 
recovered from her trauma. She screamed in pain all the way through her 
first wedded sex act. Mack didn't mind, he was proud of his eight-inch ball 
bat, and assumed any normal girl would be hurt at first, but would grow to 
love it. He got angry when she didn't. 

From then on, Emily gave in only when she had to, and tried to act as though 
she enjoyed it, fooling her husband only part of the time. He decided she 
was just a cold woman sexually, and used her only when his urges were strong 
and there wasn't anyone else available. Most of the time there was someone 
else available. 

Mack Foster was the president of the First National Bank; wealthy, 
important, and debonair. He was a big man, and at thirty-nine still 
hard-muscled and athletic. At his club, where he worked out daily, he was 
both handball and swimming champion. 

His good looks and money made available all the young pussy he could handle. 
The bank and his many clubs were full of good-looking girls, and though he 
was discreet, he did indulge himself. 

Materially, he provided Emily and their daughter, Angie, with all the good 
things in life. They lived in the best part of town in a sumptuous two-story 
house with ample grounds and a large swimming pool. The best school for 
Angie, the best country club for Emily, fine clothes, fine automobiles were 
all no more than what they had come to expect. 

Emily felt from the first that she would get over her sexual impasse, but 
she hadn't. Married almost sixteen years now, and intercourse still hurt as 
much as when Uncle Lester had raped her. Even having Angie, who weighed over 
ten pounds at birth, hadn't made any difference. She was tender down there, 
and her snatch tightened with fear every time Mack approached her. 

Mack pounded his dick wildly into her. "Oh goddamn, it's good," he moaned, 
as he exploded with cum into her. "Did you like it, Em? Did you make it, 
too?" he cried. 

"Yes, yes it was wonderful," Emily lied through clenched teeth. 

Her husband strained out his last drops into her tight orifice and pulled 
his monstrous organ free. Emily sighed with relief. His ejaculation was the 
only part she enjoyed at all; the wetness inside her cunt was comforting. 
She blushed when she realized she would prefer for him to pull out and 
squirt his sticky syrup onto her cunt lips and thighs where there was more 
feeling. 

Mack's cock was as big and hard as Uncle Lester's, probably even bigger. She 
tried so damn hard to enjoy it, but she couldn't. It just hurt too damn 
much. 

Emily got up and went into the bathroom to clean herself. She felt of her 
husband's sticky cum in her cunt and raised her hand to look at the viscid 
stuff on her fingertips. For an instant she wondered what it tasted like, 
then with a blush, she felt repulsed. She wiped her fingers on a towel. 

Pushing down the top of her gown, she stared at her huge, melon-like 
breasts, still erect and firm. At thirty-five, her figure was outstanding. 
With the palms of her hands she rubbed both her nipples until they stood 
hard and enflamed. She longed for Mack to fondle and suckle at her breasts. 
He had at first, sending thrills up her spine, but now it was warn, bam, 
thank you ma'am! Emily wanted so to enjoy sex with her husband. She had 
never experienced an orgasm. 

When she returned to bed, Mack was sawing logs. She crawled in beside him 
with a shudder. Thank God that's over for another night, she thought. He 
didn't use her much any more, but when he did, it was in bursts, taking her 
nightly for three or four nights in a row. Tonight was the first time in two 
and a half months, and her cunt twitched with terror at the thought of 
tomorrow night. 

Her spirits rose when she remembered that tomorrow, Joanie was coming to 
stay with them for a few days. Emily always begged off when they had 
company, since the guest room was next to theirs and she didn't want to 
embarrass anyone. Mack invariably grumbled, but complied with her wishes. He 
swore he was going to build another wing on their already immense house just 
so he could fuck his wife when he wanted to. Emily always blushed at his 
choice of words, yet was so relieved that she said nothing. 

Joanie arrived the next morning. It was Saturday and the bank was closed, 
but Mack had gone to the club and Angie was spending the weekend with 
friends. Emily met her sister at the door and gave condolences for her 
family's absence. 

Joanie looked pert and athletic, as usual. She was better looking than Emily 
and had a better figure, unless one's taste ran to massive tits. Joanie's 
breasts were ample, but not abundant like Emily's. 

Contrary to her parent's belief, Joanie had married well, not affluently 
like Em, but definitely upper middle class. Her husband, Ray Valverde, was a 
clinical psychologist; he was also Spanish-American. Her mother threw a fit 
when Joanie started going with that "Mexican," and feigned complete collapse 
when she married him. 

Emily, on the other hand, liked Ray. She had been drawn to the suave young 
man from the moment Joanie introduced them. If she hadn't already been 
married, perhaps ... He was the opposite of Mack; slightly built and fine 
featured, with an extremely dark complexion. 

Joanie came to stay with her sister for a couple of days once or twice a 
year, even though she lived in the same city. "Every now and then I just 
have to get away from my three brats' incessant squabbling and the 
overbearing intelligence of my husband," she stated candidly. 

Shortly after lunch, Mack returned home and embraced his comely 
sister-in-law, kissing her lightly on the cheek. He felt the firmness of her 
vibrant body. Although there was only three years separating the girls, 
Joanie seemed much younger. Mack had a penchant for young girls. 

"I hate to admit this, Joanie," Emily said, "but I forgot you were coming 
today and made an appointment at the beauty shop for this afternoon. I'm 
sorry, hon. I can call and cancel it, if you wish." 

"For Christ's sake, Em, keep the goddamn appointment. I'm not a child, you 
know. And stop the goddamn apologizing. You're always apologizing." 

Emily blushed. "I'm sor ... okay, I'll go. I have a little shopping to do 
afterwards, perhaps Mack won't mind entertaining you until I get back." 
Emily felt that Mack resented Joanie's visits. 

"I'd be pleased," Mack said, "and I'll start by getting us a drink." He 
crossed the room to the lavishly equipped bar. 

"You don't have to babysit me, Mack, but I will accept that drink. God knows 
I need it. I plan to spend the afternoon in that luscious pool of yours. 
This goddamn heat is killing me. The next car Ray buys will sure as hell 
have a goddamn air conditioner. You can bet your ass on that." 

Emily shook her head. Joanie could be so crude, sometimes. It was almost as 
if she wanted to shock everyone. Mack found her titillating. 

Joanie went upstairs to change into her swimsuit and Emily left for the 
beauty parlor. Mack sat down to finish his drink. When he figured it was 
about time for Joanie to be coming down, he went to the bar and mixed two 
more. He almost dropped them both when Joanie stepped into the room. She was 
wearing a bikini so skimpy that Mack swore there wasn't anything left to 
see. 

"Here's a fresh drink. And WOW!" he said, handing her the brimming glass. 

"Thanks, I needed that." She took the glass and poured most of its contents 
down without taking a breath. 

"Finish that," Mack said, "and I'll get you another and we can sit on the 
patio a while before you take a dip." 

"Okay," she said, and put the rest of the drink away. 

Gyrating her hips with emphasis, she crossed the room and went out the 
French doors. She was stretched out on a chaise lounge when Mack appeared 
with the drinks. 

After four trips back to the bar, Mack could see that his sexy sister-in-law 
was getting tight. She stretched languorously on the lounge, allowing a tuft 
of pubic hair to peek out above the skimpy bikini. Her boobs weren't bulbous 
like Emily's, but they looked it, the way they were fighting to get out of 
the tiny bra. She looked over at Mack, a twinkle in her deep blue eyes. 

"Let's take a dip, Mack," she said. 

"I don't feel much like it now, I swam three miles at the club this 
morning." 

"We could go in the nude." 

"That makes it sound more interesting," Mack said, "but there's not much of 
you left to see." 

"Only the best part, tiger," she said, blowing a wisp of bluish smoke from 
her nostrils. 

Mack got up and went over and sat beside her on the lounge chair. "Joanie," 
he said, "I've wanted to get in your pants ever since the day I saw you 
first." 

"All you had to do was ask," she replied. 

He kissed her then, and her arms came up around his neck. 

His hand went to the strings holding her bikini bottom together and quickly 
laid her crotch bare. He glanced down at her furry mound and slid his hand 
between her legs. They came open to his touch. 

"I must say, you're not a blonde all over," he said between kisses. 

"The beauty shop helps keep the top that way, and Ray prefers it darker down 
yonder." 

"So do I," Mack said, his other hand working on her bra. 

Her cunt was wet and hot now with his finger working in and out. She played 
over his lips and into his mouth with her tongue. 

"God, what a beautiful body," he mumbled, now that she was naked. 

"I'm glad you like it, big man. Although I was sure you would, but now it's 
time to see yours. Emily won't be busting in on us, will she?" 

"No. When she goes to the beauty shop and shopping, you can count on her 
being gone for hours. And Angie is gone for the weekend, and the maid and 
cook won't be back until tomorrow, so we're all alone." 

"Fine," Joanie said through wetted lips. "Now stand up so I can take off 
your pants." 

Joanie tugged at his belt and pulled his trousers down his hefty legs. She 
looked and jerked her head back. She lifted the tail of his shirt and looked 
again. 

"You're wearing women's panties ... why you great big fairy," she sputtered. 

Emily drove her big Caddy through the busy intersection, the sweat dripping 
from her armpits. After what Joanie had said, she felt guilty and didn't 
turn on the air conditioner. She was sorry now. 

By the time she got to the beauty shop, her head was splitting. She wheeled 
the big car into the parking lot and right out again. She knew she wouldn't 
be able to stand sitting under a dryer with such a headache, and the 
shopping could go to hell, she was going to go back home. 

The excitement of Joanie coming, the excessive heat, it had all been too 
much. "I'm just a big baby," she said, as she wheeled the Caddy into the 
driveway. She didn't bother to put the car in, even though the door was 
automatic, and slipped quietly in the front door. She'd just say hi to Mack 
and Joanie and go upstairs and lie down for a while. 

Emily stopped short just inside the open French doors. The statement came to 
her loud and clear. 

"You're wearing women's panties ... why you great big fairy." 

Emily peeked through the French doors and felt faint. There stood her 
husband, his trousers down around his ankles, and her own sister sitting 
stark naked holding up her husband's shirt tail. And Mack was wearing a pair 
of lacy little women's panties. 

"I'm no fairy," Mack said calmly. "Just look for yourself." His huge cock 
was rock hard and straining mightily against the confining silk. 

Joanie reached up and grasped his pecker through the dainty garment. "Then 
why the women's undies?" she asked. 

"Because it feels good. I have a complete collection, all different sizes 
and types. You know the kind with a split crotch? They let my nuts hang out 
and swing free, it's very exciting. I like them real tight the best. I skin 
it back and pull it up against my belly so the head rubs under the 
waistband. Jesus, that feels good, to walk around with the underside of my 
cockhead rubbing wantonly against silk all day. That's it, honey, rub it up 
and down. Damn, that feels good." 

Joanie jacked him off slowly through the silk panties. "Does Emily know 
about your little perversion?" 

"That prude? Hell no, she doesn't really know me at all. I keep a variety of 
pairs down at the bank, and there's this one little secretary who sucks me 
off through the panties. When I get her lined up I put on a big pair with 
lots of room, and she gets on her knees and starts jacking me off real slow 
like until it's hard and skinned back all the way. Then she bunches the silk 
around it and puts it into her mouth and starts sucking. When I cum, and it 
doesnt take long, she strains the stuff through pure silk. God, she sucks my 
balls dry ... and drinks every drop." 

Emily leaned heavily against the French door, a feeling of nausea climbing 
from her heaving stomach. At the same time, she tried to figure out which 
one of the girls he was talking about. Strangely, her cunt seemed on fire. 

"Do you mean like this?" Joanie asked, lowering her face. She opened her 
jaws and engulfed his silk-surrounded cock. 

"Yeah, baby, like that," he moaned, pulling her face to his crotch. 

"No, Joanie, not my little Joanie," Emily gasped under her breath. 

"Take off all your clothing except the panties," Joanie said, freeing her 
mouth from his cock. 

She sat entranced as he pulled off his clothes, revealing his massive, 
masculine body. The minute he was stripped, she bent forward and took his 
covered cock in her mouth again. After several minutes of sucking, she 
raised up and pulled the panties down his legs. His massive organ popped 
free, jutting out in front of him. 

"Oh, God, it's so big, so beautiful," she cried, licking up one side and 
down the other. "Does Emily ever do this for you?" 

"Hell no!" 

"Have you ever asked her?" "No." 

"Why don't you? She might like it," Joanie said, as she shoved the huge red 
knob between her lips. 

Mack threw his head back and groaned with pleasure. "She's just not the 
type, baby. God, but you know how to suck a man's cock." 

Emily stood frozen to the spot. She was horrified, still she realized she 
would rather he put it in her mouth than down there where it hurt so much. 
Emily was confused; she felt a longing between her legs that she rarely 
experienced. Stranger than that, her panties were wet, something that had 
never before happened to her. More by reflex than anything else, her hand 
went beneath her skirt and gripped the soggy crotch of her panties. 

"It's your turn to service me for a while," Joanie said, raising up. She lay 
back on the lounger and opened her magnificent thighs. "Suck my cunt a 
little, lover.'" 

Mack kneeled before her and lowered his face to her reeking cunt. "Do you 
ever suck Ray's cock?" he asked before plunging in. 

"Yes, all the time." 

"Does he ever eat your pussy?" 

"Regularly, darling. Ray is the best cunt-lapper I've ever had, those Latins 
know what a girl's pussy is for. Have you ever done Emily?" 

Mack didn't answer, only shook his head in the negative as he steeled 
himself and plunged into her quim. 

"Poor girl. . . .Oh, that's wonderful, Mack ... she'd love it. Mack, Mack, 
darling! Give me your tongue ... it's grand." 

Emily felt horrified, shocked, ashamed; but worse she was fascinated. 
Without completely realizing it, she was busy manipulating her hungry clit, 
rubbing between the thick wet lips protecting her vagina, and then to her 
own amazement, her finger slid up inside her tender hole. And there was no 
pain; it felt delightful, exciting, wonderful. 

"I'm ready now, darling," Joanie said, "I'm ready to take that huge prong of 
yours. Fuck me, Emily's husband, fuck me hard!" 

Mack raised up and wiped across his mouth with his forearm. "It's rough 
starting, but the taste gets better as you go along," Mack said. "And now, 
Big Mack is going to show you what it's all about." 

Big Mack took his bologna-sized cock and nuzzled at the gate. Joanie 
squirmed invitingly and he shoved it inside. Joanie swallowed it up like he 
had the last pecker on earth. She moaned and gurgled with contentment, 
saliva bubbling at the corners of her mouth. 

"What's the matter, Joanie, doesn't that great lover of a husband give you 
enough?" Mack asked, his male ego inflating. 

Joanie writhed on her impalement. "Oh, he gives me lots, and he's good, too, 
but like the rest of him, his cock is so fuckin' little ... I need a real 
he-man every once in a while. Oh, Jesus, that's good, Mack. Do it hard, and 
as fast as you can without cumming too soon." 

"Oh, God no, Joanie," Emily hissed, "hell kill you." How can you stand it, 
darling? Doesn't it hurt terrible? Emily couldn't understand it, she seemed 
to be loving every hard, horrible inch. She was rapidly finger-fucking 
herself now. 

Joanie hunched up against Mack's driving cock. "Do it hard, Mack. Faster, 
faster, I'm about to cum." 

"Oh, Christ, me too, Joanie," Mack cried, pumping his dick faster as the 
tickle started in his nuts. 

"Uh ... uh!" Emily gurgled, a feeling she had never before felt taking 
possession of her senses. 

Mack came.... 

Joanie came.... 

And Emily came. 

"Shit! That was good," Mack said. 

"It was good," Joanie repeated. 

"It ... it was wonderful," Emily murmured, slumping to her knees. 

"Get us another drink, Mack, and then let's take a dip in the nude before 
Sis comes home," Joanie said. 

"We'll skip the drink, Emily ll be home before too long," Mack answered. 
"Let's go." He pulled her from the lounge chair and they ran to the pool 
hand in hand. 

Emily sat in a helpless heap at the French doors. If Mack had gone for a 
drink, he'd have tripped over her. She finally got to her feet and, with 
wobbling legs, went up to her room. Flopping onto the bed, she thrust her 
hand inside her sopping panties and played with her still-excited pussy. 
Emily had the second orgasm of her life several minutes later. 

When Mack finally came up to the bedroom dripping wet and found Emily lying 
on the bed, she told him she had developed a headache shopping and had just 
gotten home. She lay on the bed and watched Mack get dressed. She shuddered 
as she watched him stand in front of the mirror and play with his monstrous 
cock. It grew long and hard in his hand and he jacked-off for several 
minutes, stopping before he came. She knew he was thinking of her sister, 
Joanie. 

Mack suggested they go out that evening, and after Emily had dressed, she 
slipped quietly downstairs and heard Mack and Joanie talking softly in the 
den. She slipped up to the door and peeked inside. They each had a drink and 
they were kissing. 

"After Em goes to sleep tonight, come next door and keep little Joanie 
company," she said, nibbling on his lower lip. She had one hand pressed over 
his dick at the front of his pants. 

"I will if I can," Mack said. "Emily doesn't always sleep too good and I 
don't want to take any chance of waking her." His free hand slid back and 
forth over her ass. 

"Feed her a lot of drinks tonight so she'll pass out." 

"I'll try, but she's really not a very heavy drinker." 

Emily drank heavily that night. Everything that Mack shoved at her, she 
sopped up. Emily's capacity surprised even herself, and she had to pretend 
drunkenness. They stayed out quite late, and as Emily appeared drunker, Mack 
became more attentive ... to Joanie. By the end of the evening, they were 
dancing close and necking on the dance floor. 

They put Emily in the back seat where she pretended to be asleep. Mack and 
Joanie necked in the front seat and Joanie played with his hard cock all the 
way home. 

Emily felt depraved and sick, yet she feigned deep sleep so Mack would go to 
her sister's room. The minute Mack left their bed, she got up and followed. 
Settling on the floor in front of Joanie's door, she eased the door open and 
sat listening to her husband and her sister make love. 

"Oh, Mack, that feels grand," Joanie said, after he had sunk his slick cock 
deep into her cunt. "With Em passed out, you can leave your dong in there 
all night." 

"God, Joanie, you have a marvelous snatch. Why can't your sister like 
fucking like you do?" 

"I don't know, she's sure as hell built for it," Joanie answered. "Oh, 
Keerist, baby doll, move it around ... I love your cock." 

"Yeah, yeah," Mack said, "but not too much, I don't want to cum yet." 

"I don't want you to cum until dawn, lover." 

Emily lay in the darkened hall cumming wildly. Her legs were wide apart, her 
index finger to the hilt in her cunt and her thumb rubbing her clit 
furiously. The alcohol licked at her numbed brain and the orgasm rolled 
through her loins. She writhed in ecstasy on the thick carpet. 

"Sonofabitch, oh shit, oh fuck," she moaned silently. "I love it, I love it. 
Oh, Mack, why haven't you ever made me feel like this?" 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Monday morning Joanie left the Foster home a contented woman. She embraced 
her sister and told her it was the best two-day vacation she had ever had. 
As Joanie whipped out of the driveway and peeled rubber down the street, 
Emily watched with mixed emotions. She couldn't really blame her sister; she 
seemed to enjoy it so. About Mack, though, she was understandably bitter-the 
two-timing, goddamn sonofabitch, fucking her own sister. And she wondered 
who the little slut was that was sucking-off her handsome husband down at 
the bank. Probably every broad in the joint. 

In the glaring light of day, Emily felt ashamed. Last night she had again 
fallen into a phony sleep so her husband could go to her sister's bed. She 
had actually crawled into the room and masturbated on the floor beside the 
bed while her husband fucked her sister. 

She went up the long stairway with a sick feeling. Going straight to the 
bedroom, she ransacked her husband's closet. Finding nothing, she went to 
his bureau. There she found an assortment of women's underwear to stagger 
the imagination. Panties of all sizes, types, and materials. . . and bras. 
Did the big sonofabitch wear a brassiere, too? 

Next she went to his den and got the keys that he thought were so well 
hidden. She went through his desk; nothing out of place there. Then to his 
filing cabinet. God, there it was, four drawers of pornography. Books, 
pictures, films, everything. 

Emily Foster learned things that she didn't know existed. The time slipped 
away as she poured over the piles of erotic material. Her concentration was 
broken by the sound of the front door opening. She froze in the big swivel 
chair. Had Mack come home early? 

"Mom, are you home?" came the shrill call of her fifteen-year-old daughter. 

She heard Angie's feet racing up the stairs. She hurriedly gathered up 
everything in sight and shoved it back into the filing cabinet. Once it was 
locked she breathed a sigh of relief and prepared herself to leave the den. 
Angie's flying feet came back down the stairs. 

"It's okay, Tommy," she called. "You go into the living room and fix us a 
drink while I check to make sure the servants are gone, too." 

Emily recoiled. She stepped back into the curtains so Angie wouldn't see her 
if she looked in the den. Tommy? Fix a drink? She had a boy with her, and 
they were going to get into her father's liquor. Angie, her precious baby 
daughter, only fifteen two months ago. 

Angie returned from the kitchen and went into the living room. Emily slipped 
from behind the curtain and went to the huge, arched doorway, remaining just 
out of sight. 

"No one there, sweetie, we're alone." Angie said. "Got that drink made yet? 
God, but I need a drink. I spent the whole weekend at that prude, Annie's 
house. Jesus, what a dull weekend. No guys, no dope, no booze, no nothin'. 
Give me that drink, I hope you made it strong." 

Emily peeked around the corner; she felt faint. While Angie tipped a glass 
of whiskey to her lips, Tommy, the twenty-one-year-old son of a local 
industrialist, lifted her skirt. He played lightly across the silk-covered 
cheeks of her ass. 

"Hold it, big boy, don't get too horny. I have bad news for you." Angie 
said, twisting away. 

"Before you lay it on me, baby, let's light up, I have a couple of good 
dubies with me," Tommy countered. 

"Not here, you prick, my old man's got a nose like a bloodhound. He'd detect 
it if we took one puff." 

"Shit," Tommy said. "Well, we can sop up your old man's booze and get tight, 
anyway. What news could be bad after that?" He lunged at her, but she 
giggled and jerked away. 

"I'm wearing the rag, lover," she squealed. 

"You dirty little bitch!" Tommy shouted. "If you're in that condition, why 
the fuck did you invite me over?" 

"Don't get so excited, lover. Little Angie ll take care of you." She walked 
over and pulled his zipper down. Handing him her empty glass with one hand, 
she pulled out his lengthening cock with the other. She had it hard in a 
matter of seconds. "Fix me another drink, strong like the last one, and 
we'll make 

Emily couldn't believe her eyes. She rubbed them and looked again. There 
stood her darling baby daughter playing with a full grown man's erected 
penis. It looked hard and menacing. Her whole world was crumbling; it wasn't 
possible. First her husband and now her infant daughter. She wanted to rush 
in and stop it, but her legs wouldn't move. 

"Let's go up to my bedroom, just in case someone comes home." Angie said. 

Emily ducked out of sight as Angie led Tommy up the stairs, his cock grasped 
tightly in her hand. She knew she should flee from this den of lust, but she 
followed quickly, silently up the stairs. She went to the bedroom next to 
Angie's and stepped inside. Stepping to the closet, she quietly opened the 
big sliding door, hoping that Angie's was open. The two rooms shared the 
same closet and if both doors were open, you could look right through. She 
was in luck, and stepped into the closet among Angie's clothing and peered 
through the partially open door. 

They were sitting on the bed finishing their drinks. Angie put her empty 
glass down and said, "Hurry up and get naked, Tommy, I'm going to suck you 
off." 

"God, Angie, that sounds great. You never offered to do that before, I 
thought straight screwing was your bag." 

"If you're concerned that I don't know how, relax; I've had experience." 

Emily watched while they both stripped. Once he was naked, Tommy flopped 
onto the bed, his horrible cock sticking up in the air. Angie was naked, 
too; wearing only her sanitary belt and pad. My God, Emily moaned to 
herself, she only had her first period. . . what? Two years ago? And here 
she was, a slut, a filthy whore, fucking and sucking cock. With a feeling of 
loathing for herself, her hand slowly lifted her skirt. 

Angie crawled up on the bed and took Tommy's enormous cock in her mouth. 
Angie sucked, Tommy moaned, Emily masturbated. 

"Geez, Angie, you suck cock better than my mother," Tommy said, his voice 
fuzzy. 

Angie raised up off the hard shaft. "You mean to tell me your own mother 
sucks your cock?" 

"She sure does, and my brother's, too." 

"The next thing you ll tell me is that she lets you fuck her." 

"She sure as hell does. Man, does she ever have a big, sloppy cunt. She 
juices up more than any broad I ever screwed. Now get on with your sucking, 
I wanta shoot my nuts off in your mouth." 

Angie bent to her task. As she gobbled on his rod, her breasts brushed 
against his stomach. Angie was going to have tits like her mother's, big and 
proud. They were already 36's. 

Emily was close to spending. She hunched in the closet and worked feverishly 
on her cunt. Suck it, Angie, suck it, her mind ordered, make him cum into 
your mouth. You wanton little bitch. And Marion Connely, how can you do such 
things with your own son? It's horrible, horrible; the whole world is 
horrible. Emily started to cum. Her knees buckled. A sigh of pleasure 
escaped her lips. What does it taste like, Angie, is cum good? 

Tommy gave a loud groan and Angie tried to jerk back. He grabbed her head 
and held her in place. "Suck it, you bitch," he cried. "You're gonna drink 
it all, you dirty little cocksucker." 

Gagging, she took his first spurt. She had never sucked a guy all the way 
before, and she hated it, it was so slippery and sickening, like raw eggs, 
only it burned in her throat. Tommy fucked his dick in and out of her lips, 
unloading his balls of all they had. When he released her, she fell back 
spitting and coughing; but it was too late, she had swallowed it all. 

"That's awful, Tommy, I hate it," she said, wiping at her mouth with her 
arm. "Does your mother like it?" 

"Hell no, she hates it worse than you do. But I always hold her head and 
make her drink it like I did you. When I let her up she calls me a bunch of 
filthy names, but she always comes back for more. I think she secretly-likes 
it." 

"Goddamn, I need a cigarette after that." Angie got up and went to her 
dresser. She took out a pack of cigarettes and lit up. After several deep 
drags she pushed her pad off and returned to the bed. "Tommy, I'm all hot 
and bothered now, fuck me. I'm almost done with my period." 

"Hell no. I wouldn't if I could ... and I can't. Look." 

His cock was limp and wrinkled up. She took her hand and played with it. 

"Don't do that, it hurts now." He got up and started getting dressed. "I 
better get the hell out of here before your mother gets home. We were taking 
a hell of a chance the way it was. Speaking of your old lady, would I ever 
like to ream out her pussy. Man, what a set of knockers. My old woman's are 
like two fried eggs." He pulled his pants up and jerked the zipper into 
place. "Hey, think there's any chance my getting into your momma's panties?" 

"You gotta be kidding, you sonofabitch. My mom's not like that, besides, 
she's a prude. She won't even let my dad fuck very often." 

Emily was in a daze now, sitting on the floor in the closet. How does she 
know that? she asked herself. Is it so obvious? 

Angie sat on the edge of the bed fingering herself angrily as Tommy charged 
down the stairs and out of the house. Emily got a ring-side view as Angie 
lay back, spread open her legs, and jacked herself off. Angie humped and 
moaned, falling limp when at last her orgasm drained the passion from her 
young body. Afterward, she got up and lit another cigarette and stood 
cursing. 

My baby, my darling little Angie, nothing but a wanton slut, Emily moaned. 
And me, I'm no better; actually, I think I'm worse. I hide and watch my 
loved ones in their sordid, perverted acts, and I enjoy it. But it feels so 
goddamn good! Her fingers went under the wet leg band of her panties. It was 
almost as if she was trying to make up for lost time. 

That night when Mack came home, she wanted to rush up to him and blurt out 
everything she knew; that she had seen him with Joanie on the patio, that 
she had feigned sleep so he would sneak into Joanie's room, that she had 
masturbated while she watched and brought herself to the first orgasm of her 
life, and yes, even what she had witnessed their young daughter doing. But 
she didn't. 

Instead, she decided to let him fuck her, to see if at last she could enjoy 
his massive prick. She hoped that he hadn't used himself up with the sluts 
at the bank. With chagrin, she wondered if he had ever had Marion Connely, 
the woman who committed incest with her sons. She didn't need to wonder too 
hard, because he had. In fact, he'd had both she and her 

J sixteen-year-old daughter. He didn't care much for the momma, but her 
daughter was a pretty wild piece of tail. 

It was one of those rare nights when he stayed j home, when he didn't have 
something else lined up; like a board meeting, or a banquet to speak at, or 
a juicy little piece of ass waiting to be plucked from the tree of 
virginity. 

She had several drinks with her husband and showed him glimpses of her snowy 
thighs until she was sure he was feeling the effects of her seduction before 
she went upstairs and disrobed. She came to the top of the stairs in the 
nude and beckoned to him. Damn, he thought, what the hell's gotten into her? 
and went up to the bedroom. 

She had the lights down low, but not off. "Come to bed, darling." she cooed. 

"Goddamn, Em, that's the first invitation I've gotten from you in fifteen 
years." 

"Then get in here and take advantage of it," she said. 

"I plan to," he answered, shucking off his pants. 

He crawled in beside her. Her body was hot and naked; he usually had to lift 
up her gown and fight to get at her. She responded wonderfully. 

"Suck my breasts," she said softly. 

He put his mouth to her large nipples; they grew hard and swollen. His hand 
went down her belly to her cunt. It was wet. Jesus, that's a first, he 
thought. He tested it with his finger, it was open and ready. 

Her hand came out and touched his cock. It was a timid touch, but she did 
touch his cock. 

"Squeeze it," he commanded. 

She did, wrapping her fingers around its mighty girth. It frightened her a 
little. She tensed. 

"God, I can't wait," Mack cried, and rolled over on top of her. He took his 
cock and nuzzled at her entrance. She groaned. "You really want it, don't 
you?" 

"Do it, Mack," she mumbled. 

He parted the lips and shoved his cockhead inside, then rammed for home. 

Emily bit her lip until she could taste the warm blood. The pain was 
horrible. She caught the scream in her throat and swallowed hard. Oh God, it 
still hurts, maybe even worse than before. The veins in her neck stood out, 
her eyes flooded with salty tears. 

"Damn, this is good," Mack grunted. "Come on, Em, get with it. Don't lay 
there like a dummy, toss that ass around a little." 

Emily's body was rigid. It was like sawing into a knothole in a dead tree. 
Mack could feel it and lost interest quickly. He started ripping into her 
brutally, trying to get it over with as fast as possible. 

It's no use, Emily cried inside, I can't stand the pain; I'll never enjoy 
it. She bit down on her lip again to keep from crying out. She could tell 
Mack was angry and being deliberately rough. He's a beast, a horrible beast! 

Mack could get almost there, but not quite, something in his brain kept 
putting him off. In anger, he finally jerked his slippery cock out and 
started pulling on it with his hand. He felt the good feeling coming and 
crawled up to her face. 

"You're a lousy fuck, Emily, and you'll always be a lousy fuck," he said 
nastily. "You won't need to worry about me bothering you any more. I can get 
all the pussy I want elsewhere. For old time's sake, though, this one is on 
you." 

He started cumming and spurted onto her face. She lay quietly as he shot gob 
after gob onto her mouth, cheeks, and nose. He milked it dry and wiped it 
clean on her breasts. 

"You didn't like it at all, did you?" he asked. 

"No," she said flatly. "I never have." 

"Piss on you," he said, and stalked from the room. 

Emily lay deathly still for several minutes. Then her tongue flicked out and 
wiped around her lips, drawing back inside with the sticky goo. She wanted 
to reach down and masturbate, but her cunt hurt too much. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Emily lay in the lounge chair she had seen her husband take her sister on 
and chewed on her sunglasses. She was taking stock, and she didn't like the 
results. First she had witnessed her sister and husband fucking, and had 
compounded it by allowing it to continue for two days. Then she sat and 
watched while her teenage daughter committed a lewd act. And the worst part 
of it all was, that she had enjoyed it immensely. Why, after thirty-five 
years, had all this happened in three short days? 

Her desire for sexual fulfillment was aroused and she could see no way to go 
about it. Mack was out; intercourse was still unbearably painful, besides, 
there was a chance he would never touch her again. He had stayed out late 
every night for a week now, and then slept in the den. She missed her 
husband in bed at night, not for sex, just for man. She liked sleeping with 
a man; it was comforting to her. 

Masturbation? Perhaps, but not too-likely. She had tried it several times 
and found that it was a waste of time unless she was watching an erotic 
scene. She had tried it with Mack's collection of porno, but had managed but 
one weak, unsatisfying orgasm in all the time since she watched Angie suck 
Tommy Connely's big cock. That day she had soared to the stars on the magic 
of her probing fingers. God, it made her hot just to think of it; yet, if 
she was to try it now, it would fall flat. She knew it. 

Her reverie was halted by the entrance of Norma Burgman, her next door 
neighbor. Norma was in her early forties and probably as good a friend as 
Emily had. She was a tall, skinny woman with untold energies. Her husband 
was a successful trial lawyer with little time for his wife and children, so 
Norma burned her adrenalin with civic duties. 

"Hi, Em," Norma said. "Your front door was open so I just came on in. 
Getting some sun?" 

"No, just sitting here thinking. I'm bored to tears with nothing to do." 

"I wish I could say that, I've got too damn much to do. In fact, this is the 
first free minute I've had in two weeks. I know you shouldn't drink during 
the day, but it must be night somewhere. Let's have a drink." 

"Okay," Emily said, getting up. "What would you like?" 

"Scotch on the rocks as always, and make it a big one. God, can I use it. I 
just finished a den meeting and those little bastards drive me out of my 
mind." 

Emily went inside the house to the bar. Norma followed close behind. "Are 
you still a den mother?" Emily asked. "Neither one of your boys is still in 
the scouts, are they?" 

"Hell no, only I've been a den mother so long I can't seem to kick the 
habit. Actually, that's what I came to talk to you about, only I wanted to 
get a couple of drinks inside you first." 

"Okay, let's have it. I knew it couldn't be asocial call." 

"You make me feel like a heel," Norma said, feigning shock. She took the 
frosty glass from Emily's hand and took a hefty belt. "Sidney has finally 
consented to take a month off-after all these years-and go on a vacation 
with me. A whole month in Bermuda, just the two of us ... if I can get a 
babysitter for my goddamn cub scout pack, that is. It's just for a month ... 
please!" 

Now Emily took a stiff belt. "Christ, Norma, now you make me feel like a 
heel. Why me? You have all kinds of civic-minded friends." 

"It's kind of for you. You need something to do, something to get your mind 
off of doing nothing. Besides, it's just one meeting a week, four meetings 
in all." 

"But, Norma, I've never had any little boys around my house, I wouldn't know 
what to do." 

"Really, there's nothing to it. I'd have the meetings all laid out for you, 
and with that scrumptious pool of yours, they'll swim most of the time. That 
cheap goddamn Sidney never would put in a pool for us." 

"Yeah, and one of the little tykes drowns ... boy, some scandal." 

"That won't let you off the hook, honey, I've already talked to a boy scout 
with a lifesaving badge to come and be a lifeguard." 

"It looks like I really don't have much to say about it," Emily said. 

"Right, kid, you're elected." 

"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. I've always wanted a little boy. They can be 
so darn sweet." 

"Sweet! Could be I'm not doing you any favor, after all," Norma said, 
draining her glass and handing it back for a refill. "Em, they're little 
monsters. Dirty, bad mannered and always playing nasty tricks on you. And, 
you won't believe this, but even at their tender age ... sex! You look 
shocked, well it's true, at nine and ten, sex has reared its ugly head." 

Emily didn't believe it, but it didn't matter, she was intrigued with the 
idea now. It would take her mind off her problems. And she needed that. 

When she told Mack, he thought it was a great idea, just what she needed. 
Deep down, he didn't give a shit. About time the cold-assed broad got off 
her butt and did something, anything, he thought. 

The day of reckoning arrived and the little dears trooped in like a pack of 
banshees. After the first thirty minutes she was as delighted with the pool 
as they were. She didn't go in, but it got them all in one place and out of 
her hair. Norma was right, they were little monsters. 

Tim, the boy Norma had engaged to be the lifeguard wasn't much bigger than 
the boys he was guarding. He was more mature, though; her first hint of that 
was the approving glances she received. He was fifteen and slight of build, 
perhaps wiry would be a better term. He wasn't used to den mothers looking 
like Emily. She was not only a good looker ... but built. 

She sat in a deck chair back from the edge of the pool and sipped at her 
Scotch and water. She had started with iced tea, but knew after the first 
one that tea just wouldn't cut the mustard. Leaning back, she crossed her 
legs and relaxed. 

Emily didn't intentionally display herself at first, but current fashions 
are not conducive to modesty, and Tim quickly took note of the ample amount 
of white thigh being exposed. Her blouse was not low cut; yet revealed more 
womanly bosom than den mothers of the past had ever shown him. 

It was some time before Emily realized what the boy was doing. She started 
watching him carefully without turning her head, her eyes hidden behind dark 
glasses. There was no doubt about it, he was constantly maneuvering to 
positions where he could look up her dress. 

Shaken by the realization, she killed her drink and went into the house for 
another. She took a stiff belt from the bottle and, once it took effect, 
returned to her lawn chair. She settled back, pretending to nap, and crossed 
her legs again. Tim sat at the edge of the pool sneaking peeks. Emily 
uncrossed her legs and let them fall apart. The boy got up and moved closer, 
sitting so he could watch her and the pool at the same time. 

My God, she thought, he really is looking under my skirt. The horrible 
little devil. She opened her legs wider. I wonder how far up he can see. 
What is he thinking? Could he possibly ... does a boy so young get a 
hard-on? She stretched and took a different position, making sure her skirt 
was higher and her legs further apart. Tim moved closer. 

He could finally stand it no longer; he had to do something for his aching 
pecker. He got up and walked over to her. "Uh, Mrs. Foster, could I use your 
bathroom?" he asked timidly. 

"Of course, Tim, but what about the boys in the pool while you're gone?" she 
said, lowering her sunglasses. 

He turned to the pool and shouted, "All right, you guys, out of the pool." 
There was a lot of grumbling, but they did as they were told. "You can get 
back in as soon as I get back, I gotta go tinkle." He turned to Emily, a 
sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry about that, ma'am," he said. 

"That's okay, Tim," she said, "I guess boys will be boys. Come on, I'll show 
you where it is." 

Emily leaned forward as she got up, and since she had unbuttoned the top two 
buttons on her blouse, a great deal of fat, womanly tit came into view. 
Tim's eyes almost fell out of their sockets. 

He followed her through the house and up the stairs, his eyes following 
every female wiggle of her magnificent ass. Emily came to a stop and pointed 
to a door. "Right in there, Tim," she said. 

He went inside and closed the door. She heard the lock snap and rushed into 
the adjoining room. Oh, God, I hope the door's open a little, she thought. 
It was ajar. She pushed it open enough so she could see. In his excitement 
to get at himself, Tim neither thought nor cared about the possibility of 
the bathroom having two doors. 

Emily swallowed hard and gasped; he already had his trunks down around his 
knees. His prick was erect, and even then it looked so small. It stuck 
straight out from his groin. It looks so hard, and yes, so beautiful, so ... 
she put her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob when he took it between his 
fingers and started jacking off. 

Oh God, she moaned, as the feeling she was so ashamed of, yet wanted so much 
crept into her pussy. 

She gripped the edge of the door tightly to keep her hands from going to her 
crotch. The hair between her legs filled with moisture and matted against 
her panties. 

Tim jacked off slowly, skillfully, his eyes clamped tightly shut. He 
imagined it was Mrs. Foster's soft white hands tugging at his excited 
muscle. He could see her huge breasts, so soft and warm; his lips pursed as 
though he had a hard, red nipple between them. His legs went rigid as that 
sweet, wonderful tickle tightened his balls for action. 

Emily leaned heavily against the wall and pushed a finger into her mouth. 
She unconsciously worked the penis substitute in and out. When Tim came, her 
knees went watery and she was sure she came, too; and without any genital 
stimulation on her part whatsoever. 

Tim let out a moan as his sticky white boy stuff squirted out onto the sink 
in front of him. He pumped until nothing else came out. "Oh, Christ, that 
was good," he gasped. "Goddamn, but that was good." He took the hand towel 
and wiped the end of his prick, then cleaned off the lavatory. He looked 
quizzically at the towel and hung it back up-neatly. 

"Oh, yes, Tim, it was good," Emily moaned under her breath. "Tim, Tim, I 
want so to touch your little prick, to feel it in my hand, to rub it until 
you squirt your milky stuff out." Her hand was at the crotch of her panties 
now. "Oh, Timmy, I want to make you cum in my hand, maybe even ... oh, God, 
what's come over me?" she cried in anguish. 

Emily peeked through the door again. The bathroom was empty, Tim had already 
gone. 

"Oh, Timmy, Timmeee," Emily moaned, "I'm so ashamed of myself." She lifted 
her hand from her crotch; it was wet and sticky. "Emily Foster, what a 
depraved, perverted bitch you really are. Your own husband leaves you cold 
and dry ... yet just watching a young, innocent child masturbate fills your 
panties with wetness." She groaned and leaned against the wall, realizing 
she still wanted to feel the little boy's hard cock, to rub over the angry 
looking little head, to make it spurt its juice. Oh, agony of agony, to make 
it spurt into her mouth! 

She went into her bedroom and took off her soggy panties. She waved them in 
the air; the sheer material drying quickly. Looking at the soiled garment 
with distaste, she threw them on the bed and went back downstairs. 

When she arrived at the pool the boys were all swimming again, even Tim. He 
frolicked as if nothing had happened. You're a fool, Emily Foster, she told 
herself, nothing did happen, not really. All young boys masturbate, you've 
read it a thousand times. And you did deliberately excite him, opened your 
legs like a brazen whore. Shame on you, Emily, you're to blame, not him. 

Emily sat and watched the boys swim for over an hour. She felt the need for 
another drink, but controlled the urge. She finally got up and went to the 
edge of the pool. 

"All right, guys," she shouted, "time to get out." The air was filled with 
groans and vehement protestations. "I've got treats in the kitchen, last one 
out doesn't get any." 

The boys scrambled for dry land. One small tyke, Marty by name, scooped up 
two handfuls of water and threw them at Emily as he came out. It splattered 
against the front of her dress. 

"You ornery little devil," she yelled, and made a lunge for him. 

He jumped back in the water and came up spluttering. "No fair, Mrs. Foster, 
now I'm the last one out and don't get any treat," he shouted in rage. 

"I was only kidding, Marty, you can have some, too," she said, putting her 
hand out to him. "It is Marty, isn't it?" 

He grinned and grabbed her hand and pulled. She almost went into the pool. 
"You are a little devil," she cried, jerking him from the water. 

He was one of the littlest boys there. He was the orneriest too. She had 
noticed him right from the start. He didn't pay attention at the meeting, 
always sneaking off to snoop through the house or try to get in the pool 
ahead of the others. She knew right then that she would have to keep an eye 
on him. Already, she'd dragged him from her husband's den three times. He 
was a little doll, though, with great big blue eyes and freckles all over 
his face. 

The boys were ravenous and tore into the cake, ice cream, and assorted 
pastries she had laid out for them. She fell heavily into a chair in the 
corner, aghast at the carnage such small boys would wreak. What a mistake to 
give the servants the day off, she thought. Next time, they stay. And maybe 
I'll even hire some extras. 

The goodies were finally demolished and the cubs trooped out the front door. 
Tim brought up the rear, and said, "See you next week, Mrs. Foster. You do 
want me to come again, don't you?" he asked, leering at the heavy tit bulges 
in her blouse. Tim was interested again. 

"Yes, Tim, I certainly do want you to cum again," she answered. The gist of 
what she had said jelled in her mind. She smiled. Her brain played back the 
scene in the bathroom. Oh, how I want you to cum again, and you will, you 
will. 

She stood smiling and watched them charge down the walk and up the street 
before she realized someone was missing. She turned and rushed into the 
house. "Marty, you little fart, where are you?" she said. She went to the 
den; he wasn't there. To the kitchen; he wasn't there, either. Angrily, she 
went upstairs. Not in the bathroom, not in Angie's room, not in ... Good 
Lord, Marty is in my room. He was sitting on the bed smelling her soiled 
panties. 

Emily marched into the room. "What are you doing, young man?" she cried 
shrilly. 

Marty jumped almost a foot, throwing the panties into the air. His eyes 
glazed over with tears of fright. "I ... I wasn't doing anything, honest. I 
was just leaving." He got to his feet and raced for the open door. 

Emily grabbed his shirt with one hand and shoved the door shut with the 
other. Dragging him back to the bed, she picked up the panties from the 
floor and roughly pushed him down. He was shaking violently, tears pouring 
from his eyes. 

She held the panties up before his eyes; the stain in the crotch plainly 
visible. "Were you smelling my panties?" she asked, her voice cold and hard. 

"No, no. Honest, I just picked them up to see what they were." He was half 
crying. 

"Don't lie to me, young man. Now, what were you doing with my panties? If 
you lie to me I'll tell your mother." 

"Oooooh, no, no, don't tell my mother," he sobbed. 

"Tell me the truth and I won't tell your mother." "Honest? You promise you 
won't tell?" 

"Yes, I promise. Now what were you doing with my panties?" 

He looked down, his sobbing stopped now. "I was rubbing them in my face, and 
... and smelling them." 

"Marty, what a terrible thing for such a young boy to be doing. Why, you 
must be only nine." 

"I'm ten," he said defensively, looking up. 

"Only ten, and doing that," Emily said. "Marty, why did you do it?" 

"I ... I like the smell. It makes me excited," he blurted out. 

Emily was taken aback. She felt her face flush. "You like the smell. Why? 
What do you mean, it excites you?" 

Marty looked down at his feet again. "You know what I mean, Mrs. Foster. 
You're a grownup." 

"No, I don't know what you mean. Explain it to me," she persisted. 

"Aw, you do too. It ... it makes me hard. Down there." He pointed at his 
crotch, his face still tilted down. 

Emily's breath caught in her throat. She had known all the time, had just 
wanted to hear him say it. "Marty," she said, putting her hand on his knee, 
"do you smell your mother's panties?" 

"Yes." 

"Very often?" 

"Every chance I get. I love the smell, Mrs. Foster." Marty was only ten, but 
he was wise beyond his years. He knew she was very interested. 

"You have an older sister, don't you, Marty?" 

Marty perked up. "Yes, and she's beautiful, too." 

"Do you smell her panties, too?" 

"I sure do. She lets me smell them. She'd rub them around between her legs 
and lay them across my face." He kicked at the rug and slammed a little fist 
into the bed. "But she went away to college. I sure miss her." 

"She rubbed them around between her legs and let you smell them?" Emily 
asked with surprise. She couldn't help herself; she was getting excited. Her 
hand rubbed softly up and down his thigh. 

"Yes, all the time. She smelled so good. We really love each other," he 
added proudly. 

"What else did you do with your sister?" 

"Oh, nothing much." 

"What else?" Emily demanded. Her hand slid up to his crotch. 

In spite of his recent fear, his hammering heart, Marty's little pecker was 
hard. He knew he wasn't in trouble any more. He wondered how far she would 
go; his heart pounded with excitement. 

"We slept together a whole lot, but we didn't do anything bad," he said, 
watching her hand rub the front of his trousers. 

The little bastard has a hard-on, she thought, I can feel it. The blood 
pounded in her temple with an urgency that she had never before experienced. 

"What, what did you do?" she demanded. 

"That feels good, what you're doing, Mrs. Foster," he said, squirming a 
little. "We slept without any clothes on, and we'd snuggle up real close. It 
made my thing get so hard." 

"Yes, yes, go on," Emily gasped. 

"And ... and Marta would get all excited too and crawl under the covers." He 
waited a moment for effect. "And then she'd take my little dingy in her 
mouth." 

"Oh God, oh Lord," Emily croaked, grabbing at his hard little cock. "She, 
she did that?" 

"Yes. And then she'd suck on it until it felt real good. Oh goddamn 
sonofabitch, it felt good," he said, hunching up against her hand. 

"Marty, Marty ... let me take off your pants." 

"Okay," he said. 

Emily fumbled wildly at his belt buckle and zipper. She got it undone and 
pulled his pants down his legs. They wouldn't go over his shoes. She jerked 
off his shoes and threw them across the room. She pulled his pants off. He 
wasn't wearing underwear, and his little cock stood straight out, hard as a 
rock. It was tiny, almost the size of her finger, and oh, so very, very 
hard. 

"Oh, Marty, it's beautiful, just beautiful," she gurgled, her mouth filling 
with saliva in anticipation. 

She grasped it in her hand. He was circumcised and the head was all pink, 
the hole in its end gaping open. 

"Oh, Marty, Marty. Tell me, what did you do to her, for sucking your, your 
cock? Marty, can I kiss it?" 

"Sure you can," he answered confidently. "You can suck on it if you want." 
He leaned back on his elbows. "Marta, that's my beautiful sister, would lay 
back on the bed and spread her legs open, I mean wide open, and with the 
light on and everything. And then I would kiss her right on her cunt." 

"OH, NO! NO!" Emily wailed, shoving her mouth down over his standing penis. 
Her eyes filled with tears when she felt the whole throbbing little monster 
inside her mouth. Her cunt was on fire; she had never been so hot before. 

"Marta would squeal and jerk all over because I'd stick my nose up her 
thing," he continued. "And I'd lick it all over and push my tongue way up 
inside. 

She'd get all wet, and not just from my spit, no sir. It made her happy and 
she'd leak all that good sticky stuff and I'd lick it all off with my tongue 
but more would come. You do that awful good, Mrs. Foster." 

Emily raised up for a second. "Call me Emily, darling," she said, and 
returned to her labor of love. 

"Okay, Emily. Gee, that feels good, Emily," he said savoring her name. "It's 
gonna feel real, real good in a minute, I can tell." 

"Not yet, not yet, Marty," she mumbled incoherently. "I'm going to cum, 
too." 

The little boy went rigid and pushed his little dick eagerly in and out of 
her mouth. Emily didn't feel any jazz, but knew something came out; it 
tasted salty and nice. Then her own body exploded and she grabbed him by the 
bare hips and sucked for dear life. She had never experienced such an 
orgasm. It was wonderful. 

"Oh goddamn, Mrs.-Emily ... it's good, it's good. OH, SHIT!" he cried and 
fell back on the bed. 

Emily felt good, too. She went limp and slumped against his legs, making 
sure she kept his little pecker in her mouth. She laved it with her tongue 
and lips and slipped her hand under his taut little balls. Wonderful, 
wonderful, she thought. She let his cock go and turned her head up to him. 
With her fingers, she rested his soft prick against her cheek. 

"Tell me more, Marty, did you ever put your thing in hers?" 

"You mean fuck her? I sure did." 

"Did you like it?" 

"like it? I loved it. That's what a guy has a cock for, to stick in a girl's 
cunt," he said knowingly. 

"Would you like to fuck me, Marty?" Her timidity was gone. 

"Boy, I'll say, only not today, I don't feel like it now. Besides, I gotta 
be gettin' home before mom starts worrying." 

"Will you go home and smell your mother's panties?" 

"Probably not, she doesn't leave 'em around too much. If I can, I sneak 'em 
out of the dirty clothes, only I don't get a chance too often. She washes 
too damn quick." 

"Will you come early next week? I'll let you fuck me if you do." 

"I sure will, Emily, but I gotta be gettin' now." He jumped up and started 
putting on his pants. 

Emily got up and sat on the edge of the bed, her body still tingling. She 
picked up her panties and smelled the crotch. It seemed unpleasant to her. 

"Marty, would you like to take my panties home with you? You could smell 
them when you go to bed and jack off." 

"Boy, would I. You're really cool, Emily." 

Emily lifted her skirt and wiped at her soaking cunt with the dainty 
undergarment. 

"Wow!" Marty said, his eyes bulging. "Look at all the hair. Boy, Marta 
doesn't have that much hair. And look at me, I ain't got any." 

"I like it that way, honey," she said, rubbing deeply into the lips of her 
cunt. "Haven't you ever seen your mother?" 

"Nah, she always closes the door and pulls down the shades when she gets 
naked. She ain't good looking like you, anyway." 

Emily withdrew her panties and tossed them to Marty. "How do these smell?" 
she asked. 

"Jesus Christ, that's great. Boy, are they ever strong," Marty said, shoving 
them against his face. 

"Look at me, Marty," Emily said, lifting her skirt up to her hips. 

"Jeepers, you're beautiful, Emily. Even more than Marta." 

"Would you like to see my breasts?" 

Before he could answer, she had unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. She 
undid her bra and let it slip slowly down. She stood up and let her skirt 
fall to the floor. She was completely naked. 

"Damn, damn, I wish I didn't have to get home," the little boy said, his 
cock twitching in his pants. 

"I wish you didn't, too, Marty. We could have such fun." 

Marty wanted to fuck her. "Shit, mom will kill me." He reached inside his 
pants and took his prick out. It was half hard again. 

Emily wanted it, wanted it terribly, but she knew better. "No, Marty, you go 
home now. I don't want you to get into trouble. Come real early next week 
and well do all kinds of things. Now put your big beautiful prick back in 
your pants and get out of here." 

Marty groaned in protest, but knew that she meant it. He stuffed his dick 
back and zipped up. 

"Kiss me good-bye and then get the hell out of here," she said. She bent her 
knees and pushed her mound out to him. "I mean here, darling." 

Marty dropped to his knees in front of her and pushed his face into her 
hairy snatch. She thought she would die, it felt so good. She grabbed his 
head and pressed his face tighter. "God, you'll make me cum again," she 
moaned. Then she regained control of herself and pushed him away. "Get out 
of here," she cried. 

When he got to his feet, she grabbed him and kissed him on the mouth, using 
her tongue liberally. She could taste her cunt on his lips and even that was 
good. 

"I'll see you next week," she said, pushing him toward the door. 

Marty looked at her longingly and shoved her precious panties into his 
pocket. He left grumbling. 

The second that Marty was gone, she flopped back on the bed and jammed her 
finger into her cunt. Within a minute she was writhing and groaning, her 
finger working wildly at her twat. When she finally came, it was exquisite, 
not as good as when she had Marty's cock in her mouth, but fantastically 
wonderful just the same. She wished she could remain in that state forever. 

She made a mental note to be sure the servants were off next week, after 
all. And the two following weeks, also. She lay in ecstasy, wishing that 
Norma would never come back and reclaim her troop. Maybe she could get her 
own. 

Emily finally got up and dressed. Since the servants were off, she would 
have to get supper for Mack and Angie. She had no more than gotten to the 
kitchen when Mack called. He said he would be late, and not to wait supper 
for him. Said he had a board meeting and it could be pretty late. "Okay, 
darling, see you when you get here," she said dryly, and hung up. 

"Board meeting, my ass," she said aloud. "You probably have some little 
floozie lined up to suck your big, ugly cock. And through a pair of women's 
panties to boot. Well, at least I won't have to fix the sonofabitch any 
supper." 

Angie rushed in a little later and gave her mom a peck on the cheek. "Don't 
worry about me for supper, mom," she said. "I have a date with a groovy new 
guy. He's taking me out for supper. I'll just run up and get ready." 

Emily sat in a chair as Angie rushed out. "Yeah, you little snip," Emily 
said with disgust. "Another cock for your collection, and I'll bet you've 
had plenty. Only fifteen years old, and I'll bet you've been fucked more 
than I have ... and enjoyed every minute of it." 

Angie was long gone and didn't hear a word her mother said. 

Emily sat alone in the house that night and got tight. She mixed herself 
several highballs before taking the bottle and going to her room. She 
stripped herself naked and lay on the bed smoking, drinking Scotch from the 
bottle, and fingering her clit. 

Mack didn't come home at all, but for the first time since her marriage, she 
really didn't give a damn. She finally passed out, but only after several 
good cums. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Emily's face flushed pink as she powdered and perfumed her naked body before 
stepping into her daintiest panties. She couldn't help feeling guilty that 
she would soon be having sexual relations with a ten-year-old boy. The past 
week had been one of misery and torment, yet she knew that when Marty 
arrived she would say to hell with the guilt. She couldn't help herself, she 
wanted his sweet-tasting little cock more than anything in the whole world. 

She pulled the lace-covered panties into place and slipped on a sheer 
negligee. Her cherry-like nipples looked ripe and succulent through the 
filmy gauze. The dark, heavy patch of pubic hair was visible through both 
panties and robe. Satisfied with her attire, she went downstairs and mixed 
herself a strong Scotch and water, her third since noon. Her heart went to 
her mouth when the doorbell chimed. Finishing her drink, she went quickly to 
the door. 

"Come in, Marty darling," she said, swinging the door wide. 

The young boy gasped and stepped inside. 

This was what she had been waiting for. She couldn't wait any longer, she 
threw her robe open and stood with her legs apart. "You like to smell 
women's panties, Marty, smell these," she said, her voice husky and soft. 

"You're so beautiful, Emily," the small boy said, dropping to his knees 
before her. 

Emily took his sandy-haired head in her hands and pulled his face into her 
crotch. She could feel his nose pressed against her clit and his hot breath 
coming through her already wet panties. She knew that the easiest thing she 
could do at this moment was faint from the pleasure. She let him nuzzle and 
sniff between her legs for several minutes and then pulled him to his feet. 

"Let's go up to my room, Marty. I want you, I want you so." 

"I want you, too," Marty said, his nostrils filled with the strong smell of 
her juicy cunt. 

She led him up the long stairway. Once inside the bedroom she turned and 
started unbuttoning his shirt. "Take off your clothes; I want to see all of 
you." 

"Okay, if you will, too," he answered, kicking off his sneakers. 

Emily's robe floated to the floor while she watched him pull off his shirt. 
As he fumbled with his fly, she pushed her panties down over her thighs. 
Marty wet his lips and followed suit. His pencil prick stood straight out 
from his smooth, boyish body. It throbbed in mid-air as if someone were 
jerking it with an invisible cord. 

"Oh, Marty, Marty," she cried, taking him in her arms and crushing his face 
between her breasts. "Rub it between my legs, honey. I want to feel it 
against me. 

She had lifted him completely off the floor and his feet dangled in the air. 
His thrusting cock pressed into her forest just below her belly-button. 
"Marty, I want you to fuck me," she murmured, falling back on the bed with 
him on top of her. She spread her legs wide. "Put it in, darling, put that 
sweet prick in. Can you find the hole?" 

"Sure I can," Marty boasted, as he worked his bulging little cockhead into 
position and probed at the mass of dark hair between her legs. 

"Hurry, damn it, hurry," she hissed. 

"I can't seem to get it started." 

"Here, let momma help you." 

Emily's hand flew to his crotch and grabbed his hairless twitching pecker. 
She nuzzled it into the wet hair and pushed the shiny head into her hole. 
Once it was in, she grasped the cheeks of his ass and pulled, shoving his 
tiny cock all the way inside her slippery cunt. 

"Now fuck me, Marty, fuck me like you do your sister." 

"like this, Emily? Am I doing it right?" "Yes, yes. Only faster, you darling 
boy," she gasped. 

He worked hard against her inflamed crotch. "I'll cum real quick if I go any 
faster," he said. "I'm almost there now." 

"That's ... oh, shit!" Emily wailed, "that's all right, I'm cumming, too, 
honey." 

Marty tensed and started cumming. Nothing came out, but he felt it down to 
the tips of his toes. He groaned and fell limp on her soft belly. 

"Oh, Jesus, that was good, Emily," he said, gasping for breath. 

Emily lay gurgling with contentment; her eyes were glazed, her cunt twitched 
around his softening penis. She was in heaven and she wanted to stay there. 
When Marty started to get up she pushed him onto his back on the bed beside 
her. 

"Will it get hard again if I suck it?" she asked. 

"I doubt it," he answered, "it hardly ever did for Marta." 

"It has to, it has to," she cried, dropping her face to his sweaty crotch. 
It tasted pungent; it was the taste of her own cunt, but she didn't mind. It 
didn't get hard, though. 

"It's no use, Emily," Marty said with a sigh. 

"Goddamn it," she said, sitting up. 

Marty hustled into his clothes while Emily sat forlornly on the edge of the 
bed. Dressed and satisfied, he turned to her and said, "I'll go down and 
wait for the other guys to get here." 

She looked up at him and thought, you worthless little bastard. "Don't you 
dare tell any of the other cubs," she said curtly. 

"I won't, I promise," he shouted as he ran out the door. 

"I want more," she whined hopelessly, and poured a glass full of Scotch from 
the decanter beside the bed. 

She swirled the amber liquid, took a mouthful, and fingered the lips of her 
sopping cunt. "Goddamn it,' she said, and finished the Scotch. Her head felt 
light and giddy. She knew she was drinking too much and reached for the 
decanter. The sound of youthful voices brought her back to reality. 

Emily got up and wiped between her legs with the frilly negligee. Throwing 
it on the bed, she went to her clothes closet. When Emily came down the 
stairs her face was made up, her hair was brushed. She had on a pair of 
Angie's white shorts and a slip-over blouse and that was all. 

Tim saw her first. He started at her bare feet and worked his way up. At the 
point where her heavy tits bounced freely, he stopped and swallowed hard. 
His cock thrust hard against his Levi's. Emily noticed the hump and smiled. 

She went to the bar and poured a generous amount of giggle water over two 
ice cubes. She was already pleasantly drunk and didn't hide her booze in a 
tea cup this time. 

"I don't feel like having a meeting today," she shouted to the boys, "why 
don't you just spend the afternoon in the pool." She wanted to add in the 
nude, but she wasn't quite that drunk. 

With a whoop they trooped through the French doors. Most of them had their 
suits on under their clothes; those who didn't went behind the bushes. Emily 
went to her lounge near the pool and fell heavily on her back, carefully 
spreading her legs. 

Angie's shorts were too small for Emily and pulled snugly up into her crack. 
They were terribly short and her pubic hair protruded in all sorts of 
places. She plopped the dark glasses across the bridge of her nose and 
sipped at her Scotch, carefully watching Tim swing into position to look at 
her plump thighs with the dark hair showing where they disappeared into her 
shorts. She glowed inside every time he tried to rearrange his long hard 
cock inside his tight trunks. 

She was planning how she would get Tim in her bed when one of the boys 
screamed out in pain. 

Jumping up, she ran to the pool where Herman, the only black boy in the 
pack, sat in a crouch holding his knee. 

"What happened?" Emily asked, kneeling beside the boy. 

"He was try in' to catch me and slipped," one of the boys said. "Is he hurt 
bad, Mrs. Foster?" 

"I don't know," she said. Then, turning to Tim, "Tim, you shouldn't let the 
boys run, you know it's slick around a swimming pool." 

Tim hung his head. "I'm sorry. I guess I wasn't watching close enough." 

You sure weren't, she thought. You were too busy trying to see my cunt. Her 
head had cleared remarkably. "Let's take a look at Herman's knee." She pried 
the weeping boy's hands from his knee. 

"Can you bend it, Herman? Here, let me help you." She took his leg and 
straightened it out. The boy winced, then grinned sheepishly through his 
tears. "It's just a little cut, we can fix that up in the kitchen. Come with 
me, Herman." 

She took him by the hand and lifted him up, almost falling herself. Once 
standing, her clear head disappeared. God, I shouldn't have drunk so much, 
she thought. I'm drunker than a skunk. 

"I'll put a bandage on it, honey," she said, holding out her hand. "Come on 
now!" The boy obediently took her hand. She turned to Tim. "Now watch these 
kids closer, damn it." 

Tim hung his head as she whirled around and led Herman across the grass to 
the house. She weaved perceptibly, but got to the kitchen without falling. 
Taking him directly to the lavatory off the kitchen, she pushed him inside 
and stepped in beside him. Only her booze-fogged brain knew why she pushed 
the door shut with her rump. 

Emily took a damp cloth and kneeled before the boy. Dabbing at his knee, she 
looked up at the trembling boy. He had stopped crying, but his cheeks had 
long streaks where the tears had run down. He really was rather attractive, 
for a black boy. His body was stocky and hard muscled for one so young, and 
it was so black it glistened. And he looked so sweet and forlorn looking 
down at her. 

"Do you want momma to kiss it and make it well?" she cooed. 

"Aw cut it out, that's for kids. I'm okay now," Herman said. 

Emily felt an irresistible urge take control of her. "It's not for kids the 
way I do it," she said, and pulled down his wet trunks with a jerk. 

She could hardly see his cock because it was all shriveled up from being in 
the water, like it was trying to crawl inside to get out of the wet. Emily 
reached up with her hand and her magic fingers brought the little rascal 
creeping back out. It was short and stubby, but bigger around than Marty's 
or Tim's. 

Herman's eyes bugged out, but he said nothing. 

She masturbated him slowly. It was very black, much more so than the rest of 
him. The glossy head came out shining and purple. Emily swallowed hard. 

"Herman, it's, it's gorgeous. May I kiss it?" she cried. 

Still Herman said nothing. He stood rigid, blinking his eyes. 

Emily bent down and ,kissed it feverishly on the end. It grew very hard. 
With a little gasp she closed her mouth around it and started sucking. 

"Ummmm! Do it good, white lady," he said, grabbing her by the hair. "I can't 
shoot any of that pearly cream like my big brother does, but. . . OHHH, 
white lady, suuuuck!" 

Emily could feel sweat all over her forehead. His little black cock tasted 
so good. She wanted that pearly cream; oh, how she wanted him to be able to 
shoot that pearly cream like his big brother. She wrapped her arms around 
his hips and gripped his ass in her hands. He was pumping into her now and 
she pressed her face against him as hard as she could. The wiry little hairs 
sprouting around his cock cut into her lips. 

Herman came with a low moan and he did shoot a little of that pearly cream 
like his big brother. It was the first time he had ever had an emission and 
it wasn't much, but Emily could taste it on her tongue. Her body throbbed 
with excitement as Herman went limp in her arms. 

She let him come to rest on the floor on his back and started kissing and 
sucking all around his pubic area. "Did it feel good, honey?" she asked, 
just before she took his balls inside her mouth. 

"It sure did, Mrs. Foster, but I can't take any more right now," he 
answered, trying to get out from under her urgent mouth. 

Emily had already learned one thing; that when her baby studs said they 
didn't want any more, they didn't. He was probably thinking about the 
swimming pool and his buddies having their good clean fun. She raised up and 
let him squirm free. "Go on then," she muttered. The boy jumped up and 
pulled his trunks back on. 

"That was good, Mrs. Foster," he said. "Maybe we could do it again next 
meeting, huh?" 

"Okay, if you want to." Her head was spinning like atop now. "Don't tell any 
of the other boys." 

"I won't. See you later," he shouted over his shoulder. 

Emily sat on the floor in the toilet for a long time. She just didn't give a 
shit any more. Slipping a finger inside her shorts, she played with her 
cunt; that didn't do anything for her either. She finally got to her feet 
and went into the kitchen where she found a pack of cigarettes and lit one. 
She felt giddy and happy from the Scotch, yet disgusted with herself. She 
went back outside and walked unsteadily to the pool. 

"Tim, come here a minute," she called. She looked at her half-filled glass 
beside the lounge and picked it up and killed it. "Tim, I'm not feeling too 
good. Can you finish up?" 

"Sure I can, Mrs. Foster," he answered. Tim knew she was stoned; he wanted 
to grab her and play with her big, fat tits. 

"I think I'll go up and lie down for a bit. There's a couple of cases of pop 
and lots of goodies in the kitchen. Let them stuff their stupid little 
bellies and then get them the hell out of here. Okay?" 

"Swell. I hope you get feeling better, and don't worry, I can handle it," 
Tim said. You drunk old pig, he thought. 

"When they're all gone, come and tell me. You're cute, honey," she said, and 
staggered back into the house. 

Tim wasn't sure what to make of it all, but he knew what he would like to 
make of it. Boy, I'll bet she has a juicy cunt, he thought. I'd sure like to 
slam this stiff ole dick of mine all the way inside her. He rubbed his 
crotch in anticipation. 

"All right, you little turds, time's up. Get the fuck out of the pool, we 
got fuckin' treats inside." 

The little turds piled out of the pool and streamed for the kitchen. When 
they were all gone, Tim went over to the pool and pulled down his trunks and 
just for the hell of it, he pissed a strong yellow stream into the pool. "If 
you don't like that, big tits Foster, I'll shove it up your nice round ass," 
he chuckled. 

Emily lay on the bed drinking. When Tim came into the room, he looked all 
fuzzy. She was all spread out, her legs wide open. 

"Uh, they're all gone, Mrs. Foster," Tim said. 

"Good," she said, taking a deep drag on her cigarette. 

"They made an awful mess in the kitchen." "That's okay, I don't give a shit. 
I'm drunk, Tim." "Yeah, I know it," he said timidly. "Come over closer, 
Timmy, so I can see you better." 

The boy came over to the bed and stared at her all spread-eagled. "You sure 
are sexy, Mrs. Foster," he said. 

"Do you have a hard-on, Tim? Don't look so shocked, honey, I watched you 
beat your meat in the bathroom last week." 

"Huh? Oh, gosh I..." the boy stammered. 

"That's okay, baby, I don't care. Crawl up here on the bed and kiss me." 

Tim stood dumbfounded, his cock already hard from looking at her. 

"Don't you want to?" 

"Sure I do, I just didn't know if you meant it." 

"You just climb up here and I'll show you if I mean it or not. And if you do 
a good job, I'll let you take off my shorts." 

Tim climbed eagerly onto the bed and Emily pulled him down on top of her. 
She wrapped her legs around him and rolled her tongue into his mouth. They 
dry fucked for several minutes before Emily pulled her mouth free. "Take off 
my shorts, lover, take off my shorts," she moaned. 

"With pleasure, you red hot bitch," he cried. 

"Watch who you're calling a bitch, you dirty minded little bastard," she 
said, raising up her ass so he could tug down her too-tight shorts. 

"Oh, Jesus, oh, shit, sonofabitch!" he cried. "This is gonna be some fun." 
He had her shorts down to her knees. "Can I fuck you?" 

"Not unless you ask me nicely," Emily said coyly. 

"Please, Mrs. Foster, may I fuck you?" he said. 

"Hell yes. Now get those swimming trunks off." 

Tim jumped up and pulled them down with a jerk. His rock hard pecker leaped 
out like a caged tiger. 

"Tim, it's beautiful. Come over here so I can feel it." 

Tim stepped up proudly and stuck his throbbing dong onto the edge of the 
bed. It was bigger than either Marty's or Herman's. It was still small, 
though, and gorgeous in Emily's eyes. She slid her hand under the hot flesh 
and let it rest in her palm; then she closed her fingers tightly. Tim 
groaned as she slowly jacked him off; he closed his eyes when she lowered 
her head and blew her hot breath softly over the head. 

"If you keep that up, Mrs. Foster, I'll sure as hell cum all over your 
hand," Tim said. 

Emily's eyes lit up. "Do you shoot that ... that creamy stuff out when you 
cum?" 

"I sure as hell do, and plenty of it, too," he bragged. 

Her mind reeled. "Oh, God," she mumbled, as she clamped her lips around his 
cock. She loved the taste now, adored it, needed it, wanted it. Her saliva 
ran freely as she mouthed his organ; her cunt grew hot and wet. She wanted 
him to cum in her mouth, but she knew if he did that it would be all over 
and she wanted his dick in her cunt, too. She raised up. 

"Get up on the bed, Tim, and lay on your back. I'm going to fuck you." She 
seemed to revel in these words of filth, words that would have shocked her 
beyond belief only a few short weeks ago. 

Emily knew she was drunk, and she was glad. Emily knew she was on fire with 
lust, and she was glad. She straddled her boy scout and pushed his small, 
hot cock into her cunt. Slowly, she lowered her hips until it was in to the 
hilt. She raised and lowered herself slowly, savoring each stroke of his 
precious cock. It was larger than the other boy's, and she enjoyed the 
increased size, minute as it was. 

"Oh, Tim, darling, it feels wonderful. Tell me when you get close and I'll 
stop for a bit," Emily moaned. 

"I'm close," Tim said. 

Emily stopped. She let her weight down and sat motionless, Tim's small but 
mighty charger buried completely. She continued this way for some time, 
always stopping before he came. She hadn't reached orgasm herself, hanging 
on that wonderful precipice just before you cum which is really almost as 
good as toppling over the edge and certainly more lasting. Sensing that she 
couldn't hold him off any longer, she pulled herself free. 

"God, Mrs. Foster, I can't stop," Tim cried. 

She got her face down to his machine just as the first spurt leaped out. It 
caught her on the bridge of her nose. The rest was not so foolishly wasted; 
she had his spurting dick imprisoned in her mouth and sucked his dew until 
she had it all, then she swallowed. It didn't have much taste, but it was 
slimy, hot and exciting. She relished the first male charge in her mouth. 

"That was really good, you old whore," Tim said, swinging his feet to the 
floor. 

Emily dropped limply to the bed, horrified. "Timmy, don't talk like that. 
I'm still hot, honey. Will you kiss my pussy and make me cum?" 

"Are you kidding? Boy, some of you old broads are really screwy," he said, 
tugging up his pants. 

"Have you had many other old broads, Tim?" 

"Hell yes, lots of them." He lied. Tim had never been laid before. Fifteen 
minutes ago he had been a virgin. 

"That's good," she said, "because you'll never get another chance at this 
old broad, now get out and never come back." 

Tim's self confidence drained away. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Foster, I didn't really 
mean it, I was just showing off," he whined. 

"That's your tough luck, sonny. Now get the hell out of here, you dirty 
little sonofabitch." She raised up menacingly and the boy fled, leaving his 
shirt behind. 

Emily tugged Angie's blouse over her head and threw it angrily to the floor. 
Holding her throbbing head, she fell back on the bed. She wanted to stick 
her foot out and stop the bed from spinning, but she knew if she so much as 
moved a muscle she would get sick. 

An hour later, Angie found her lying naked on the bed. She stared at her 
voluptuous mother and entered the room. 

"What's the matter, Mom? How come you don't have any clothes on?" Angie 
asked. 

Emily stirred, but didn't answer. 

Angie saw Tim's shirt and picked it up. "What's this? What's been going on 
here, Mom?" 

Emily opened her eyes, they were glazed. "Who there? Tha' you Ang ... drunk, 
I'm terrible drunk," she slurred. 

"That's obvious," Angie said. 

Angie went and got a blanket and covered her mother. 

"Wow!" she said, "I wonder what the heir went on here. The kitchen is a 
shambles, Mom is naked and blasted out of her mind, and I find a boy's shirt 
on the floor. Maybe I ought to stay home some afternoon and watch." She 
didn't notice her own shorts and blouse on the floor on the other side of 
the bed. 

Mack came home several hours later. "Where's Em?" he asked, thumbing through 
the day's mail. "She's upstairs. Passed out," Angie answered. "What did you 
say?" 

"Mom got bombed this afternoon and she's upstairs sleeping it off," Angie 
said calmly, dropping her eyes back to her movie magazine. 

"I don't believe it," Mack shouted, "and get your nose out of that goddamn 
magazine when I'm talking to you." 

"Go see for yourself," Angie said, still reading her magazine. 

"Christ," he bellowed, taking the steps two at a time. 

When he came close to the bed he knew that Angie was telling the truth; 
Emily smelled like a brewery. He turned her head up to his and then let it 
go. It flopped back into the pillow. 

"Boy, she's out like a light," he muttered. 

He noticed her bare shoulders and lifted the cover. She was lying on her 
side facing away from him and as her bare back came into view he jerked the 
covers all the way back. "What the hell?" he said. 

Mack looked at her smooth, round ass. She had her knees drawn up and it 
stuck out invitingly. He rubbed his crotch and toyed with the idea of 
shoving his cock up her bunghole. Unzipping, he pulled out his huge tool and 
rubbed it between her big, tender buns. Emily didn't move. 

Mack decided it was a good time to go exploring. She would never let him do 
what he wanted when she was conscious, so why not now? He rolled her over on 
her back and pushed her legs wide apart. The mass of hair was thick and dark 
and soft, like velvet. "God, what a gorgeous cunt," he said, manipulating 
his pole with his hand. "Why do you have to be such a cold ass?" 

Mack had always wanted to eat her, and he was sure that this would be his 
only chance. With his fingers he opened the velvety lips and lowered his 
face. The smell of sex was strong and pungent; he breathed deeply and 
plunged his face in. Emily moaned and pushed against him. 

Mack felt her hands press against the back of his head. He lifted up to see 
if she was awakening. She was still out cold, but her hands clawed in his 
hair to get him back in place and a broad, happy smile wreathed her face. 

"Jesus, I think I'll keep you stoned all the time," he said, and jammed his 
tongue deep inside her slit. 

He pulled furiously at his cock with one hand while the other was under her 
soft butt, his index already imbedded to the first knuckle in her ass-hole. 
She held his face tightly against her sopping crotch and pushed down hard on 
his intruding finger. 

Mack came with a pig-like grunt and squirted his juice onto her leg. It ran 
down over her knee and dripped on the bed. 

Emily came with a soft moan, the orgasm she had missed with Tim oozing 
through her body like a warm liquid. She held his face to her cunt. 

Mack raised up and hobbled on his knees to her head. He took his dripping 
cock and rubbed it across her smiling lips. She involuntarily opened her 
mouth and the sticky head slipped inside. He pushed it in and out until his 
balls were dry. 

"Christ on a crutch, I wish you'd do that when you're awake," Mack said. 

Angie stood in the open door and watched. "Jesus, what a couple of 
perverts," she said, two of her fingers already deep in her cunt. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Emily was suffering the pangs of regret. Tim had come by to pick up his 
shirt and beg her forgiveness, resorting even to a show of crocodile tears. 
She treated the boy coldly at first, what with her terrible hangover, but 
she weakened and told him she would give him one more chance to act a 
gentleman and try him as lifeguard at one more meeting. She wasn't in the 
mood for any nonsense now, even though the thought did cross her mind. 

She was genuinely worried about herself now, having become so preoccupied 
with sex that she was even having erotic dreams. One was vivid in her mind. 
Some man with a long, course tongue had lapped between her legs and it was 
so real that she had actually had an orgasm in her sleep. And if that wasn't 
enough, her dream man had finished by sticking his sticky, jazz-covered cock 
in her mouth and she had sucked it clean. She couldn't recall who the man 
was, but he had such a huge penis that her jaw actually hurt the next 
morning. She needed a change of pace, something to get her mind off sex. 

Emily had read somewhere that a person could work off their sexual energies 
with other activities, particularly ones of an athletic nature, so she 
decided on a course of action to nullify her newly found sexuality. Ruth 
Devonshire, a close friend, lived on an estate at the edge of town and kept 
a stable of fine horses. She would go horseback riding, get some needed 
fresh air and burn up her energy in the process. She made arrangements for 
an early ride the morning of her next pack meeting. 

Emily rolled out of bed at 5:30 a.m. and dressed quietly. She slipped on her 
riding pants and pulled the snug-fitting boots into place. The weather had 
been very hot so she didn't wear a jacket; she didn't wear a bra, either. 
Some girls breasts are sensitive and it hurts to let them hang free, but 
Emily had discovered that she enjoyed letting her bulbous boobs bounce, it 
gave her a warm, sensual feeling. She didn't consider for one moment that 
she might be defeating her own purpose. 

She slipped out of the house into the brisk morning air and climbed into her 
two-seater Mercedes. It was a hot little job with four-on-the-floor and she 
roared across town at seventy and eighty miles an hour. She never got out of 
third gear. 

Ruth greeted her as she climbed from the car. She was a beautiful woman, 
several years older than 

Emily, with large, puffy breasts and a more than ample rump. Too many, hers 
was a matronly look, but upon close inspection, the middle-aged woman was 
still sexy as hell and her body was surprisingly firm in spite of its 
abundance. 

"I'm so glad you called, Emily. I don't know why we neglect one another so 
abominably. It's been ages since we last got together," Ruth said in her 
gushy, condescending manner. 

"I've been meaning to call for some time," Emily said, almost wishing she 
hadn't come. 

"Come along while I slip into my habit," Ruth said, leading her into the 
palatial home. 

As they went up the long circular staircase, Ruth glanced at Emily's bobbing 
tits and said, "My, you bounce beautifully. I wish I could get away with 
going braless, but I'm afraid my milk bags hang down to my belly button 
without support." 

Emily blushed. She wondered how a woman with so much money, so much social 
prestige could be so vulgar. And it wasn't just now; she was always like 
that. Her husband, Cliff, was a multi-millionaire with business and property 
holding all over the country. Ruth was queen bee, not only in the local 
hive, but in the entire state. 

As soon as they entered the bedroom Ruth shucked out of her expensive 
blouse. God, her tits were massive, and it was obvious her bra was tailor 
made. It was peek-a-boo, her large brown nipples poking out like buttons on 
a doorman's vest. Her skirt and slip tumbled to the floor and she left them 
in a heap. She had a fine butt, too; a bit oversized, but round and smooth. 
Emily noted that she was wearing the rag; there was no mistaking the white 
bulge in her panties. The best of them can't get out of that affliction, 
Emily thought with a smile. 

"I'm glad you came out today, Em," Ruth said, popping her mountainous bosom 
into a see-through blouse. "Clifford is gone so much of the time and Rhonda 
has gone to Europe with a bunch of her snooty friends." Rhonda, their 
twenty-year-old daughter was a replica of her mother twenty years earlier. 

Emily and Ruth had a couple of brandies and finally made their way to the 
stables. Just inside the door, Emily stopped short, her eyes round and 
filled with fright. Walking toward them leading two horses was the most 
grotesque creature she had ever seen. He was a misshapen hunchback dwarf, 
with short fat legs, an unsightly, gnarled hump on his back, and a 
fat-lipped face so slobberingly ugly that it made her sick. Ruth noticed her 
fright. 

"Don't mind Hunchy, darling, he's really a dear. He minds the horses 
beautifully and keeps to himself," Ruth said, snuffing her cigarette out 
with her foot. "And he has an absolutely brilliant mind. His only problem in 
his appearance. It makes him a misfit anywhere he goes. Clifford swears by 
him." 

"Mornin', miz, horses iz ready," he said. His tongue lolled out 
uncontrollably when he spoke, slurring his speech. 

Emily shrank back in horror, but Ruth reached and patted his cheek. "Thank 
you, Hunchy, you're a darling," Ruth said as she took the reins from his 
hand. "Come along, Emily dear. I feel like a brisk pace this morning." 

Once in the saddle, Emily turned to Ruth and said, "Why do you keep such a 
horrible-looking creature around? " 

"One gets used to him, and as I said, darling, the man has to have some 
place to be," she answered in her superior manner. She jabbed her horse in 
the flanks with her heels. 

Emily didn't know it, but before the morning ended she was to find out why 
Ruth Devonshire kept the hunchback around. 

By 10:30 Emily was exhausted and ready to quit for the day. Ruth told her to 
go in and she would follow shortly, she was feeling good and wanted to do 
some jumping. And all this in the middle of her monthly. 

Emily dismounted in front of the stable, hesitating at the huge open door. 
What if that awful little man is in there? she thought. She wanted to leave 
the horse where it stood and run for her car, but she knew this would be 
improper, the horse might run off. 

She entered the barn stealthily; it was quiet and serene. Leading her horse, 
she walked slowly down the narrow passageway lined with stalls on both 
sides. About halfway back she heard a noise and stopped, her heart pounding 
wildly. She looked into the nearest stall and there stood the 
miss-proportioned freak. He had his back to her and his baggy little 
trousers were down around his ankles. His ass was covered with hair and 
pimples. Emily leaped back out of sight and leaned weakly against the stall. 

Her mind reeled with thoughts. What's he doing standing there with his pants 
down? Going to the toilet? Well, perhaps out here in the barn he goes 
wherever he wants to. Her morbid curiosity overcame her fear and she peeked 
around the corner. She almost screamed out; he had turned so she could see 
his monstrous prick hanging like a huge sausage. 

Hunchy's cock was half hard and it was massive beyond belief. He grasped it 
in one of his fat hands and started jacking off. It swelled like a balloon 
under a pressure pump. His thick legs were very short and his banana hung 
almost to the ground, easily a foot long. The gruesome monster continued 
pulling at his meat and finally pulled the foreskin completely off the knob. 
The unsheathed head looked like a ripe delicious apple. Emily's eyes bulged 
at the sockets as she watched the dwarf jerk on his cock. It seemed to grow 
larger with each stroke. She felt like she was going to choke, still she 
stood, her eyes riveted to the inhuman shaft of a cock. 

Hunchy was too intent on what he was doing to notice any idle watchers. He 
picked up a heavy stool and dragged it behind the huge bay mare in the stall 
with him. His cock all but dragged on the ground. He stepped up on the stool 
behind the mare and took his shaft in both hands. 

"Haven' done this to you inna long time, have I, Lady," he said, lifting her 
tail and putting the tip of his cock to her hole. "Haven' had to, but have 
to today, 'm hard up. Miz Ruth had rag on for three days now." 

Emily put her hand to her mouth to keep from crying out. Does Ruth ... could 
she possibly allow this, this repulsive creature to ... to? No, it wasn't 
possible. She felt like fainting, but she had to watch, to see if he 
actually fucked a horse. 

"Hoi" still," Hunchy cried, slapping the nervous mare on her flank. "There, 
baby, doesn' that feel good? I knowed ya was in heat, else I wouldn' do 
this." 

His cock was already buried inside the horse. He started stroking and 
groaning. "Jesus, tha' feels good. Jus' hoi' still a bit, Lady, I'll cum 
quick." 

Emily couldn't believe what she was seeing. Things like this just didn't 
happen, it wasn't possible. She had to continue watching, though, had to see 
him pull it out. It was like a fever in her mind, but she had to see his 
huge, beautiful ... no, not beautiful. . .ghastly, see his ghastly penis 
again. Oh, God, Ruth, you can't have taken it, it would kill you, it's like 
a ball bat. 

"Gonna cum, gonna cum," Hunchy cried. "Make you a little half man, half 
horse." He groaned and drove his dick wildly into the mare. "Damn, horse, 
why can't ya be Rhonda? Sweet, licious Rhonda? Her cunt is so hot, so tight 
... love Rhonda's cunt." 

Emily knew she was having a nightmare. It just wasn't possible. Ruth and her 
big ass couldn't take a prick like that, let alone Rhonda. And how could 
they stand it from such a ... such an inhuman thing? 

Hunchy pulled his cock from the mare's cunt. It looked even bigger to Emily 
than it had when he put it in. She stood with her mouth open as Hunchy 
climbed down from the stool, his sausage waving in the air. 

"Halloo," Ruth called as she galloped up to the barn. 

Emily looked wildly around for a place to hide, she couldn't let Ruth see 
her watching such a horrible scene. She rushed into the stall across from 
the mare's and ducked out of sight. 

Ruth rode her horse into the stable, drawing up and dismounting when she saw 
Hunchy standing in the entrance to the mare's stall. His cock was dripping 
and slime covered. 

"Hunchy!" Ruth cried. "Have you been fucking the horses again? I told you, 
you must never do that any more, it makes them too nervous." 

She went to the dwarf and lifted his cock in her hand. It was still hard and 
stood out a full foot from the tangle of course hair at the bottom of his 
belly. Ruth stroked it with both hands, bringing the mighty tool back to 
full erection. 

"You poor darling, you needed loving and mamma wasn't here," Ruth cooed. She 
kissed him on his ugly, fat lips, fingering his wet cock all the while. 

Emily had crept back to her original vantage point and felt like retching. 
How can you, Ruth? He's so ugly, so deformed. Emily was unaware that her own 
crotch was soaking wet. 

"Did the nice lady who went riding with me come in here?" Ruth asked. Hunchy 
shook his head. "She must have gone up to the house ... good. 

"Do you want to play with mama's tits, Hunchy darling?" Ruth asked, already 
unbuttoning her blouse. 

Her blouse fell to the ground followed quickly by her bra. Emily gasped. Her 
tits went almost to her navel. Facing the freak, Ruth dropped to her knees 
and straddled his cock like a stick horse and wrapped her mammoth tits 
around his ugly face. He pinched them together and took both nipples into 
his cavernous mouth. 

"Hunchy, Hunchy, I can't stand it," she screamed, pulling her tits from his 
mouth. "Oh, darling, I wish I could let you fuck me ... I'm so hot!" 

Emily wished she could, too. She wanted to see if his gigantic rod would 
actually go inside her. Oh, Hunchy, fuck her anyway, fuck her anyway, Emily 
moaned under her breath. She was gripping herself tightly between the legs 
now, pressing the cloth of her riding pants into her crack. 

Ruth fell to the ground on her ass and took the cherry red knob of Hunchy's 
cock in her hands. "Let 

I me kiss it, let me kiss it," she cried, pressing her lips to the gaping 
hole in the end. 

She couldn't get the head in her mouth so she sucked on the hole and ran her 
tongue underneath, lapping wildly at that tender groove on the underside I 
of the glans. Hunchy closed his eyes and grinned, showing his yellow, 
decayed teeth. 

When Hunchy came he gave a guttural grunt and poured his copious seed into 
her mouth. His spend was unbelievable, filling her mouth and running down 
her chin. The glutinous goop dripped from her chin onto her fat tits. 
Hunchy's eyes were bulging as his balls emptied into Ruth's sucking mouth. 

Ruth jumped up and started removing her riding pants. "Keep it hard a little 
longer, darling, just a little longer. I have to have it, even if it will 
hurt afterwards." 

She pushed her pants, panties, and pad down and fell to her knees. "Take me 
dog style ... push it all the way in," she panted. 

Hunchy came up behind her, and his cock still firm, inserted himself into 
her open cunt. She reared back, taking his animal-like girth hungrily inside 
her belly. 

"Get it all the way in, Hunchy, all the way in," she cried, "and fuck hard, 
it won't take long, I'm almost there already." 

The hunchback rammed twelve inches of cock into her cunt and jerked it 
brutally in and out. He fell across her back and grabbed her breasts in his 
gnarled hands. 

Emily was fastened to the spot where she stood, her hand clamped between her 
thighs. Her gaze was fixed on Hunchy's huge nuts, bouncing between his legs 
like two baseballs in a bag. She couldn't believe that Ruth had taken it 
all, and she was enjoying it, that was obvious. 

Ruth was now rocking back and forth on her knees, ramming her ass against 
the dwarf's groin. Hunchy stood motionless and let the sex crazed woman do 
the work. 

"I'm going to cum!" Ruth screamed, her knees going weak. "Ooooh Hunchy, I'm 
cumming, I'm cumming!" 

Ruth's knees gave way and she flopped awkwardly onto her belly. Hunchy rode 
her down, his big slick pole still socked in to the hilt, and started 
pumping again. Her round, soft ass came up to meet his jarring thrusts. 

"Cum you bitch, cum," Hunchy croaked, "Hunchy cumming, too." 

And there before Emily's unbelieving eyes the massive-cocked freak came for 
the third time on one hard-on. He poured the remains of his stuff into the 
socialite's heaving belly and chortled with glee. He jerked his cum-streaked 
rod free and flogged her across the ass as it finally began to soften. 

"You like? You like Hunchy's cock?" he bellowed. 

"I love it. Oh, Hunchy, I hurt so good." 

As Hunchy milked the final drop from his dong into the crack of Ruth's ass, 
he turned his head and saw Emily. She prevented a scream with her hand and 
ran blindly from the stable. 

"Hunchy want pretty lady," he said, pulling his filthy trousers up his 
short, stocky legs. "And Hunchy get pretty lady next time she come riding." 

Ruth lay in a daze on the ground, panting for breath. She hadn't understood 
a thing Hunchy had said. She knew she should go up to the house and see 
where Emily had gone, but she had to rest a while first. When she finally 
made her way painfully to the house, Emily was gone. 

"She could have at least said good-bye. Bad mannered little bitch," Ruth 
said, and fell heavily onto her bed. 

Emily had leaped into her Mercedes and shoved the gas pedal to the floor. 
She wanted to get as far away as she could. The motorcycle cop told her she 
was going ninety-five in a fifteen mile zone. She gripped the wheel until 
her knuckles hurt and looked down at her own crotch while the patrolman 
wrote out the ticket. She clamped her eyes shut to blot out the vision of 
the gigantic penis nuzzling at the furry hole tucked between her thighs. 
Shoving the ticket into the glove compartment, she rammed the car into gear 
and floor-boarded it. 

"Crazy goddamned rich bitches," the cop swore, leaping onto his bike. "Oh, 
what the hell," he said, and rode off in the opposite direction. 

Emily rushed into the house and mixed herself a stiff drink. Half way up the 
stairs she started stripping off her clothes. She felt filthy, degraded. 
Also, she felt hornier than ever. Her plan had backfired; she felt the need 
for cock stronger than ever. 

Once under the shower, she let it beat down into her face, washing away the 
tears of anger and frustration. She stood like this for several minutes. Her 
blood froze when she felt someone behind her. Whirling, she looked down into 
the grinning face of Marty. He was naked and his little cock stood straight 
out. 

"You little peckerhead, what're you doing in my shower?" she screamed. 

"Wasn't I supposed to come early?" he asked. 

She looked at his tiny pecker jutting out from its hairless mount and 
wailed, "Oh, yes, darling." She dropped down on the hard tile and opened her 
legs. "Fuck me, Marty, fuck me now," she cried, pulling the small boy down 
on top of her. 

Marty's hard little cock entered her quickly, all the way. Emily hunched up 
against him, wishing his prick was bigger. Marty came quickly. Emily didn't 
cum. 

Marty got dressed and took off. Emily mixed herself another drink and sat 
down on the bed, frustrated and unhappy. She finally slipped into a skirt 
and blouse and went downstairs to greet the screaming, raucous boys. 

Tim was there, looking sheepish and apprehensive, but Herman failed to show. 
Emily wondered why, but of course she had no way of knowing that Herman's 
mother had caught him hiding in her closet so he could watch her undress and 
had rung the entire story from him. She was furious and threatened to call 
the police. Herman's father calmed her down, explaining that it would only 
mean a scandal involving their son. Besides, he told himself, perhaps this 
was a little white pussy he could get for himself. 

Emily told Tim that she would act as an observer today and for him to 
conduct the meeting. She went behind the bar and mixed herself a drink. 
While Tim ran through the meeting Emily sipped at her drink, her free hand 
playing in the moist hair between her legs. Before the meeting ended she was 
leaning on the bar masturbating wildly. 

"Tim, come here," Emily called. 

Tim came over to the bar. "Yes ma'am," he said. 

"Come around behind the bar." 

Tim came behind the bar. Emily took his hand and put it under her dress. She 
pressed it to her cunt and smiled. f 

"I've decided to forgive you, Tim," she said. "Get the boys in the pool and 
come back in the house, I'm going to reward you for doing such a splendid 
job conducting the meeting." 

Tim slid his fingers back and forth between her cunt lips. They were wet and 
hot. "Jesus," he said softly, and ran from behind the bar. 

"Okay, you dirty little farts, meeting's over," he shouted. "Last one in the 
pool gets corn-holed by the I whole troop." 

Emily grinned at the obscene talk and took a hefty pull on her drink. 
Goddamn, she thought, how low can you sink, Emily Foster? Something twitched 
inside her cunt and she lifted her skirt and started massaging herself 
again. 

Tim was back in a flash, grinning lewdly. 

"My God, Tim, how did you get them in the pool so fast?" she asked. 

"Nobody wanted to get corn-holed," he said, grinning. "Besides, I told them 
they could swim in the raw today." 

"You mean they're out there in the nude?" 

"Hell yes, you got a high fence, nobody can see." 

Emily wanted to see. The thought of all those naked boys thrilled her, but 
she decided that a bird in the hand is certainly worth two in the bush. 
Besides, Tim's cock was surely bigger than any of those little boys. She 
knew it was bigger than Marty's. 

"Let's go over on the couch," she said, taking his hand. 

She sat down on the couch and pulled his pants down his legs. His cock was 
already standing at attention. She felt her drool start at the sight. She 
wanted to suck him off, but knew it would prevent him from fucking her, and 
she had to have his penis inside her cunt. 

"God, Timmy, it's beautiful. Kick out of those trousers and climb up on top 
of mamma. I need you, baby." 

While Tim shucked out of his pants, Emily lifted her skirt up over her hips 
and lay back on the couch. 

"Put it in, Tim, put it in," she cooed. "Fuck me good. And go slow, I want 
to cum too." 

Tim's cock was larger than Marty's, not a great deal, but larger just the 
same. And it felt fine, just fine as it slid between the pouting lips of her 
cunt. The furry hole gobbled it up. She wrapped her long legs around his 
back and rocked slowly. 

"It's wonderful, Tim," she moaned. "Do it slow and easy. Push it in and out 
... yes, honey, like that. Ooh, Tim, I'm going to cum already ... you're so 
good. Keep fucking, baby, faster now." 

Emily felt like swooning. The orgasm she had been wanting so badly gathered 
momentum and raced through her nerves. 

"Don't cum yet, Tim, don't cum yet," she cried, unwrapping her legs. "I'll 
finish you with my lips." 

Emily pushed the startled boy back and came over him in a rush. He was on 
the verge of orgasm and once her lips closed around his organ, he came with 
a gush. Emily sucked until his little boy balls were dry, taking his dick in 
down to the light fuzz. 

"You're the greatest, Mrs. Foster. Can I come back next week?" Tim asked. 

"Of course, darling ... and we'll fuck again. Now you go and have a good 
swim." 

She rested for a while and then snuck out in the bushes and watched the boys 
swim. She didn't want it to, but it filled her with desire all over again. 

Later that night after her senses had returned to normal, Emily made a 
pledge that she would resist her perverted desires. The things that I'm 
doing to myself and those poor, innocent boys, she thought. It's 
unthinkable. I'll just have to try harder; I must, I must. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Emily did try harder, for a whole week she fought with her emotions, her 
pent-up sexual desire. But even while she was trying harder, she was 
subconsciously planning the events of her last den meeting. For three days 
before the pack arrived, she wore the same sheer bikini panties, often 
drawing the thin band that went between her thighs snugly up into her damp 
crack. By D-day they were ripe and ready. When Marty left that night they 
were safe inside his pocket, insuring many days of pungent masturbation. 

As usual, Marty arrived early and Emily's good intentions went down the 
drain. She stripped him naked and loved his body with her lips and tongue, 
sucking on his flavorful penis until he could take no w more. Even though he 
couldn't ejaculate, she decided his prick belonged in her mouth; it now 
seemed too small to satisfy her cunt. 

Unable to contain her growing perversion, she hid two of the boys in her 
closet so they could watch Tim fuck her. She failed to orgasm with Tim. 
After Tim had left she brought herself off on the floor in front of the 
closet and then crawled inside with the boys and jacked them off. Their 
pricks were very small, but very hard, and they felt good. With one in each 
hand, she jerked them to a dry spend. 

Afterward, she got roaring drunk and passed out in bed. 

The next day Mack came home at noon. He sat down at the table with her. She 
was drinking black coffee. 

"Well, I'm glad to see you're .sober," he said sarcastically. 

Emily looked sullenly at her long lost husband. "You're not around enough to 
notice. Besides, I don't do it very often." 

"More often than you used to," he shot back. 

"What brings you home this time of day?" she asked, changing the subject. 

"I just wanted to remind you about the party Friday night." 

"I remember," Emily said, "and I'll be the perfect hostess, as usual." 

Mack turned and shouted in the direction of the I kitchen, "Hey, Erma, get 
me a cup of coffee." 

Emily winced in pain. "Not so damn loud," she said, putting her hands to her 
head. 

"Sorry, kid," Mack said, laughing openly at her predicament. 

She didn't mind Mack's parties; they were completely catered and didn't 
cause her any work. She did have to put up with his shitty, snobbish 
friends, but then she decided they were her friends, too. Their friends were 
society ass-holes, every last one of them. 

Ruth and her husband would be there, of course. She smiled and almost 
laughed out loud. Ruth should bring Hunchy the horse-cocked hunchback 
instead of her husband; he could fuck all the wives and sodomize all the 
husbands. That would be one party no one would forget. One thing she was 
sure of, she would never see Ruth again without visualizing the grotesque 
freak mounting her from the rear, and she had a rear worth mounting. 

The day of the party arrived quickly, and in the pattern she had developed 
in the past weeks, she started fortifying early. By evening, she was full of 
expensive Scotch and felt a pleasant glow from the top of her beautiful head 
to the tips of her lacquered toenails. 

She stepped from a warm shower and lifted her magnificent tits into a bra 
that could only be described as a non-bra. With her raspberry-like nipples 
sticking straight out, she slipped into a pair of heels and went down the 
hall to Angie's room. Angie stared at her naked mother in the doorway. 

"Are you going to be home tonight?" Emily asked. 

Angie stared at the wad of golden-brown hair covering her mother's mound. 
Her belly looked so smooth and flat, her ass so round and firm. Somehow she 
seemed sexier than Angie remembered her in the past. 

"No, I'm going out," Angie finally said. "I'll be in around twelve, but I'll 
just come on up to my room." "Come on down to my room and talk to me while 

I dress," Emily said, stepping back into the hall. 

Emily went to the little bar in the corner of her bedroom and mixed two 
drinks. She handed one to Angie and said, "Light a couple of cigarettes." 

Angie hesitated at the proffered drink. 

"Oh, go on, take it. If you're going to do-these things, no need to go 
behind my back." 

Angie took the drink, lit two cigarettes, and after handing Emily one, 
settled comfortably on the bed. 

Emily took the stopper from a perfume bottle and dabbed behind her ears, 
under her arms, between her breasts, and finally drew the big glass stopper 
sensually through the deep groove between her legs. 

"Ooooooh, that tickles good," she murmured, and did it again. 

Angie shook her head and took a big slug from her glass. I guess I don't 
know my mother at all, Angie thought. I don't think dad knows what he's 
missing, either. She hadn't been able to figure out why her parents were no 
longer sleeping together. 

"With the patio doors open and people going in and out all night, the air 
conditioning won't be worth a damn. I don't think I'll wear panties." 

She slipped on a sheer little blouse with a low front and stepped into a 
full, maxi-skirt. She turned and grinned at Angie. "For anyone to know that 
I'm bare-assed, they ll have to crawl under my skirt. And I doubt that that 
will happen, don't you?" She winked at her sexy fifteen-year-old daughter. 

She did up her face and poured the rest of the Scotch down her throat. 
"Well, that's it," she said. "I guess I'm ready for the onslaught." 

The guests started arriving at nine o'clock. Norma Burgman, her den mother 
neighbor and her fat money-grubbing husband, Sidney, were the first to 
arrive. Emily greeted them warmly. Inside, Emily resented Norma's returning 
from Bermuda or wherever the hell she had been and reclaiming her den pack. 

When Marion Connely and her fat, bald-headed slob of a husband arrived, 
Emily couldn't help but think of Marion's virile, young son forcing her to 
take his load in her mouth. She was sure that fat Arthur didn't have a fuck 
left in him. He was an ugly man with an over-sized, heavily jowled head, 
yellow teeth, and beady little eyes. His belly was huge and flabby and hung 
out over his belt. 

Mack's new junior vice-president arrived with his young bride of three 
months. Jeff Dunn was young, maybe twenty-eight, and cocky as hell. He was 
dark, good-looking, and well built. His wife, May, was a tiny thing. She was 
a beautiful girl with coal black eyes and hair so black it was nasty. She 
looked as young as Angie, though Emily guessed her to be about twenty, and 
couldn't have weighed a hundred pounds wringing wet. Her lips were painted 
bright red, pouty and fat, and very sexy. 

Emily had difficulty hiding her chagrin when Marlene Speck arrived with her 
anemic, seventeen-year-old son. Sanford was tall and very thin. He wore 
horn-rimmed glasses and had buck teeth, still in braces. 

"Emily, darling, I'm sure you won't mind that I brought Sanford. We just 
couldn't get a baby-sitter," Marlene simpered. 

"Uh, why of course it's all right," Emily said. 

Why in the goddamn hell do you need a baby-sitter for a seventeen-year-old 
kid? Emily thought. She's probably afraid the anemic-looking little bastard 
will die of loneliness without his mommy. 

"The doc will be along later, he had an emergency at the hospital," Marlene 
said. 

Marlene always called her husband, "the doc." The doc was Dr. Bernard Speck, 
chief surgeon at City Hospital. And this annoyed Emily, too. They couldn't 
get a sitter for their nasal idiot of a son and Dr. Bernard Speck pulled 
down a hundred thousand per, no sweat. 

"If you ll just take Sanford to a guest room, hell rest and stay out of the 
way," Marlene cooed. 

Emily could no longer hide her disgust and blurted out, "Christ, just go 
upstairs and take your pick, Sanford. I'm no nursemaid." 

Mack gave her a dirty look. Sanford gave her a sheepish, awkward grin and 
went slowly upstairs. She felt sorry for the dismal-looking boy and wished 
she hadn't been so harsh. Then she glanced coldly at her disapproving 
husband and thought, Go fuck yourself, Mack. 

Marlene ignored the dig completely. She had feelings like a rhinoceros. You 
couldn't insult her if you tried. 

She was an exquisite blonde with pointed tits, round butt, long legs, and 
all the trimmings. She wore an expensive pants suit that looked like it had 
been painted on. Her nipples were plainly visible, poking into the skin 
tight fabric. Mack eye-balled her hungrily. 

"Thank you, Emily darling," Marlene said in her honey-coated, four-caret 
phony voice. "I didn't want to bring him along, but I hate to leave him home 
all alone, and we just simply cannot get a sitter for him." 

She glanced around to see if anyone else was listening and whispered, "The 
little bastard plays with himself all the time. Every time we get a nice 
babysitter, he opens his pants and jerks off in front of them. Why, only two 
weeks ago the filthy little monster tried to force an eighty-year-old sitter 
to suck him off. Needless to say, she left in a huff before we even got back 
home. It makes me blush to even tell this, but when we did get home he was 
in his room masturbating. And the snot-nose shit ass didn't even put his 
cock back in his pants while I tried to find out what happened to the 
sitter. I found out the next day when she called and threatened to go to the 
police." 

Mack had trouble containing his laughter. Emily just smiled weakly and 
stared into space. Neither said anything. 

Ruth and Clifford Devonshire were the last to arrive, as usual. They claimed 
a mix-up in their social schedule would only allow them to stay for a short 
while. The only mix-up Emily could imagine them having was fat-assed Ruthy 
mixing it up with Hunchy on the stable floor. She still found it hard to 
believe what she had seen. The instant dampness between her thighs, however, 
let her know that she had seen it. 

The house was full of guests. They sat around the front room, stood around 
in the kitchen, and lounged all over the patio and back yard. They all 
absorbed Mack's liquor like long overdue blotters. By ten-thirty several 
guests were in the pool-with their clothes on. By eleven-thirty there were 
several more-without anything on. 

Marlene Speck was one of the latter. She clung to the edge of the pool in 
the deep end with a languid, drunken smile on her lips and her pointed tits 
peeking over the edge. A rising young executive from the Benjamin Medical 
Laboratories was close behind her. 

He was rising here, too. Rising and lowering and rising and lowering and ... 
Dr. Bernard Speck hadn't arrived yet, but Marlene didn't seem to mind. The 
young exec's six-inch thermometer was much harder than the doc's, anyway. 

Jeff Dunn was very possessive of his petite bride. He made sure that no male 
got too close. Emily noticed that he paid very close attention to something 
else, too-her bulging boobs. Between his preoccupation with Emily's tits and 
his protection toward his young wife, he failed to grasp that Mack's 
attention to the handsome young couple was not entirely that of a good host. 

Emily had laid off the sauce when the guests started arriving and felt 
uncomfortably sober. She saw that the party was degenerating into something 
less than a Sunday School picnic and decided it was time for a good stiff 
drink. 

I need a good strong one all by myself, she thought, away from all these 
milling, drooling idiots. The study was the only room that she was sure 
would be vacant; it was locked. She took the key from the ledge above the 
door and slipped inside. She pushed the door shut with her backside and 
heaved a sigh of relief; the silent darkness was like a breath of fresh air. 
Making her way through the pitch-black room, she went to the desk and 
snapped on the modernistic lamp and went to the bar. The Scotch tasted 
marvelous as it made its way to her stomach. 

"Hi," a voice behind her said. 

Emily jerked around, almost spilling her drink. Sanford stood about three 
feet away. He looked rather stupid standing in the dim light grinning 
sheepishly. 

"Where the hell did you come from? How did you get in here?" Emily snapped. 

"I'm sorry I startled you," he said weakly. "I was just standing over in the 
corner. I picked the lock and then picked it locked again so no one would 
find me in here. I used a hair pin I found on your dressing table." 

God, Emily thought, I should have known he'd pick my room. Why not Angie's? 
He could have jacked off on her teddy bears until she came home. 

"I got tired of just laying up there in bed. Your room sure smells good, 
Mrs. Foster," the weak-eyed kid said. 

"Oh, for Christ's sake!" Emily answered, and poured the rest of the Scotch 
down in one gulp. She turned back to the bar and poured the glass half full 
of amber booze. "Can I make you a drink?" she asked. 

"Heavens no, Mrs. Foster, my mother would have a fit if she caught me 
drinking." 

Emily almost gagged on the half-swallowed mouthful of Scotch. His mother 
would have a fit. Oh shit, that's a good one. She lets him sit around with 
his dong hanging out, but would have a fit if he took a little nip. 

There was a knock. "Oh, Emily, are you in there?" came Marlene's voice 
through the closed door. 

"Oh, my Lord, it's Mother," Sanford whined. "Whatll I do? She'll kill me if 
she finds me in here bothering you." 

"You're not bothering me, Sanford." 

"She won't believe that. . . she'll kill me. What should I do?" 

"Oh, for God's sake, Sanford, hide," Emily snorted. Then in a loud voice, 
"Just a minute, Marlene. Don't come in yet." 

"Where?" Sanford cried. "Behind the desk, stupid." 

Sanford ran and crouched down behind the desk. Emily saw immediately that it 
wouldn't work, the front of the desk was open and she could see his big feet 
sticking out. She looked desperately around the room. There just wasn't any 
place to hide in this room; everything was built into the walls and the 
drapes had been removed to be cleaned. She rushed behind the desk. 

"Scrunch yourself into a ball," she ordered. "Your mother will see you all 
spread out like that." 

Sanford did as he was told. Emily lifted her skirt and straddled the huddled 
boy and let the skirt fall back to the floor. She felt foolish, but she was 
sure that since she was behind the desk and her skirt was full and floor 
length, that Marlene couldn't tell that she stood with her legs as far apart 
as they would go. 

"Now don't move or make a sound," she whispered to Sanford. "Come in now," 
she shouted. 

"What's going on in here?" Marlene said suspiciously, sliding in quickly and 
closing the door behind her. 

"What's been going on out there is a better question," Emily cried. 

Marlene was wearing nothing but a pair of very thin, silk panties. The ends 
of her pointed tits were all pink as though someone had been sucking on 
them. She held the skin-tight outfit she came in under her arm. 

"Oh, nothing, really," Marlene said, then giggled. "We went skinny dipping. 
The doc just drove up and I was afraid you were going to leave me standing 
in the hall too long. He'd just die if he saw me like this." She giggled 
again, and looked around the room. 

"Why, you're alone. I thought I heard voices in here." 

"Just your imagination. I came in here to get away for a moment." 

"I'm afraid the doc wouldn't approve of my swimming in the nude with other 
men," Marlene said, pulling the pants up her long legs. 

Emily jerked and went stiff. She wondered if the doc would approve of his 
son. Sanford's hand was slowly creeping up the inside of her thigh. Her face 
colored. The tips of Sanford's fingers were touching her juicy cunt. 

Marlene finally fought the tight pants into place and started struggling 
with the top. 

"Ooooh!" Emily moaned aloud. Sanford was kissing her. "God!" she said, and 
leaned forward with her hands on the desk. Thank God for this desk, she 
thought as Sanford's tongue slithered into action. 

Marlene had her top in place now and came over to! the desk. Her hair was 
still wet and all kinky with little blonde curls. 

"Is something wrong, Em? You're making funny noises, and you have the 
strangest look on your face," Marlene said. 

"No, no not really," Emily said, the sweat forming on her forehead. "I ... I 
had a muscle spasm. I'll be all right in a minute." 

The door opened and a distinguished-looking man stuck his head inside. "Are 
you in here, Marlene?" the doc said. 

"Just me and Emily, honey," Marlene answered. "Thank God," she added softly. 

"Hi, Doc," Emily said weakly. Then to Marlene, "You go ahead with Doc and 
join the party, I'll be out in a minute." 

"Are you sure you're okay, darling?" Marlene asked. 

"Yes, I'm fine ... just fine," Emily stammered. Sanford's tongue was rolled 
now and deep inside Emily's juicing cunt. She was just fine. 

"Okay, darling," Marlene said. She turned and went to the door where her 
husband stood waiting. "Let's go, Doc, it's a wonderful party." 

As the door closed, Emily sagged against the wonderful mouth sucking her 
pussy. She straightened up and lifted her long skirt up over her hips. 
Sanford removed his face from her twat and looked up. 

"I'm ... I'm sorry, I couldn't control myself," he whined. 

"Don't apologize, you little crotch cannibal," Emily moaned, "just do it 
some more." 

Sanford went eagerly back to work. Emily held her skirt high and watched the 
little pervert perform his art. It felt wonderful. 

"Oh, Sanford, that's wonderful. Let me go close the door before I cum," she 
said softly. "Or before someone else comes ... in." 

Emily closed the door and inserted the key. Her skirt fell to the floor by 
the door. Her blouse went about halfway to the desk. Her bra dropped on the 
edge of the desk and slid off into the wastebasket. 

Emily kneeled before the bug-eyed boy. She undid his belt and tugged his 
pants down his skinny legs. His shorts met the same fate. His cock stuck out 
like a piece of steel. The end was all wet. It was a good inch longer than 
Tim's, though a trifle skinny. 

"Oh, Sanford, you have a nice one," she cooed. "Do you squirt much when you 
cum?" 

Sanford couldn't believe his eyes or his ears. "Yes, I really do," he 
answered, his voice strained and weak. 

"Sanford, fuck me, fuck me now," Emily cried, stretching out on the thick 
carpet. 

"I've never ... never done it before," Sanford stammered. 

"You'll never learn any younger," Emily said. "Besides, you won't have any 
trouble, you jack-off all the time." 

"How did you know? Does it show?" 

"Of course it shows. How else could you develop such a fine-muscled cock? 
Now stop whining and put it in ... all of it." 

Sanford fumbled for a moment then found the opening. His cock slid in with 
ease, all the way. Emily moaned with pleasure. It did feel bigger, and it 
felt much, much better; it felt wonderful. She hunched up against him and 
hooked her feet behind his scrawny back. 

"Now fuck me good, Sanford. Make me cum hard," Emily cried. 

Sanford really popped it to her. He was a natural fucker, he didn't need any 
training. Besides, he'd had plenty of practice on things at home. All kinds 
of things; a pillow, his mother's powder puffs, a sponge, even a rolled up 
piece of bologna. He'd eaten it afterward. 

Jesus H. Christ, he thought, this is better than jacking off in front of 
Mary Lou Ames, the Sunday School teacher who sat for him-once. 

The two combatants fucked wildly. Emily's orgasm hit her like a ton of 
bricks. She cried out and clamped her legs around him like a vise. 

"I'm there, I'm there!" Sanford yelped, his pecker spitting its juice. 
"Squeeze it all out, Mrs. Foster. Oh, goddamn it's good!" 

Later, Emily lay over the boy and sucked on his prick until it began to 
harden. She played with his nuts and drew on his stick until it happened all 
over again. Sanford cried like a baby as his crap oozed into her mouth. She 
drained his nuts good. 

Angie came up the front walk and pushed the door open. It took all her 
strength because some guy had passed out against the door. She stepped over 
his limp body and looked at him with disgust. 

"Stupid, inane adult parties," she said. As she went to the stairway she 
glanced into the front room. Her mouth dropped open. A couple was on the 
couch fucking like crazy. "Wow!" she cried, and stepped in to watch. 

Emily finally emerged from the den, her clothes back in place. Sanford still 
sat on the floor behind the desk, his raw and wilted cock leaking a few 
final drops of little boy cum onto the carpet. 

Most of the guests had gone. She stepped into the front room where the naked 
couple on the couch now lay motionless. She stepped out on the patio. The 
Doc was stretched out on a lounger; he waved when he saw Emily. 

"Hi, Em. How about stepping into the kitchen and see where Marlene is. She 
went after a drink for me ages ago. She must be brewing it." 

"Sure, Doc," Emily said, and stepped back in the house. 

The kitchen was empty. She was about to leave when she heard a groan and a 
grunt. She found Doc's wife behind the refrigerator. She was backed into the 
corner, her tight pants in a puddle around one foot. The other foot was 
hooked behind a thick thigh. The thigh belonged to the guy who was punching 
his cock into Marlene's dripping pussy. She didn't know who the guy was, she 
could only see his back, but Marlene was sure enjoying it. She looked right 
at Emily and didn't even see her. 

Emily waved her hand back and forth in front of Marlene's eyes. Marlene 
stared without blinking, a foolish grin on her half open mouth. She kept 
letting out little groans of obvious pleasure. 

God, Emily thought, the Doc could walk in and watch and his wife would never 
know the difference. I wonder if it's just the wealthy that get so wound up 
sexually that they don't know what they're doing. . . or is everyone like 
this? Emily walked from the room filled with doubts, both about herself and 
her friends. 

In the hall outside the kitchen Emily was confronted with still further 
shenanigans. Leaning against the wall was the young executive, Jeff. He was 
so drunk that he could stand only with support from the wall. His pants were 
down around his thighs. Marion Connely was on her knees sucking hungrily on 
his distended member. Emily figured he either had an awfully short cock or 
it was running down her throat because her lips were in his pubic hair. 

Jeff's gorgeous blue eyes were glazed over; his arms hung loosely at his 
sides. When he stiffened and started to cum, his body slid slowly down the 
wall until he was a crumpled heap on the floor. Marion followed him down, 
keeping every inch of his juicing pecker in her mouth. She drew on his dick 
like it was an all-day sucker. 

"Yeah, she really hates the taste of that stuff," Emily said, walking away. 
"like shit she does." 

Emily trudged wearily up the long staircase; enough was enough. Before going 
to her room she decided to look in and see if Angie had come home yet. God, 
the things the young girl would see just walking through her own home. It 
made Emily shiver. 

Yes, Angie was home, and Emily wished now that she wasn't. She was in her 
precious little bed, but not alone. Arthur Connely lay on his back with 
Angie perched securely on his peg. She sat upright, rocking back and forth, 
her hands resting on his flabby belly. 

"Oh, Arty," Angie cooed, "I'd never have believed you had such a big one." 

"Treat it right, honey chile, treat it right, and it's all yours." 

"Just keep it stiff and I'll treat it right all night." 

Emily stood with her mouth hanging open, not sure what to do, if anything. 
Of course, she was sure of one thing, Angie had to be on top like she was, 
or she'd never get the damn thing in. The old fool was so fat that he'd have 
to have one a foot long just to stick I out even with his belly. Emily hated 
herself, but watching made her cunt tickle. She had developed into a 
first-class voyeur. 

Angie started gasping and fell forward across the old man's gut. "Oh, oh ... 
I'm cumming!" she screamed. 

When she fell forward, Angie pulled herself free from his cock. It popped up 
and rested in the crack of her ass. Emily gasped. It was huge, almost as big 
as Mack's. How could little Angie take it? And she'd had it all, sitting 
upright. 

"That's a far cry from all night, kid," Arthur said. "I didn't cum yet." 

Angie rolled off onto the bed beside him and laid her head on his fat belly. 
"I'll take care of that," she said, and wrapped her fingers around his huge 
cock and started jacking him off. 

"Uh!" he grunted, and came. 

Arthur had a load to match his cock. The first charge squirted up and came 
down on his belly a half inch from Angie's nose. The next came down in his 
pubic hair. The rest just bubbled out and oozed down over Angie's hand. 

Emily turned and walked away. She was sure she had seen all she could stand. 
Her young daughter taking on a grown man, and an old, repulsive grown man at 
that, and enjoying it had to be the limit. She stopped in front of the door 
to her bedroom and sighed-there was more to come. 

Spread out and wide open lay the diminutive May Dunn. She was naked and 
smiling with expectation. Mack was just divesting himself of his last 
stocking. He walked up to the bed and waved his huge pecker in front of her. 

"Oh, Mack, it's so much bigger than Jeff's, you'll split me wide open," she 
said. 

Mack climbed on the bed and put his face between her wide-spread thighs. 
"How long have you and Jeff been married?" he asked, as he pushed his face 
into her bush. 

May blushed crimson. "Just three months," she answered softly. "Really, 
Mack, I'm so ashamed of myself. I've just been married three months and I 
let another man do this to me. Oooh, darling, that feels wonderful, don't 
ever stop." She pressed his head into his crotch with both hands. "Where is 
Jeff now? He won't catch us, will he?" 

Mack raised up for a moment. "Nah, he's downstairs. Passed out cold." Mack 
resumed his sucking. 

"Mack honey, I love it!" May cried. "Jeff never did this to me. It makes me 
so horny. I even think I could cum like this." 

Mack raised up in spite of her protestations. "Well, you're not going to, I 
have something else in mind." 

"You're not going to fuck me, Mack. I'm a new bride, I can't let you do that 
... I just can't." Her hand was already guiding his cock between her legs. 
"No, Mack, no! Lf you do this, it'll be rape." 

Emily watched as tiny May Dunn's cunt swallowed up Mack's immense pecker. 
She gurgled with contentment and her legs curled up around Mack's broad 
back. 

"Rape me, you big bastard, rape me," May Dunn squealed. "You're the only man 
besides Jeff who's ever done this to me. Oh, Mack, I just love it!" 

"Is Jeff good?" Mack asked, his huge dong going into her with long, easy 
strokes. 

"Yes, yes, he's very good. . . umm, deeper, honey ... only he doesn't do it 
often enough, and his thing isn't big like yours. Oh, darling Mack, I'll 
never be satisfied with him again. You ll have to fuck me every day from now 
on." 

"I'm afraid my wife wouldn't like that." 

"Oh, fuck your wife," May spat. 

"I wish I could," Mack answered. 

"Don't talk so much ... just fuck," May said, grinding herself against him. 

Emily blushed. Mack, I wish you could, too. There has to be something 
drastically wrong with me when a tiny little bitch like you can enjoy my 
husband's cock and I can't. And my fifteen-year-old daughter takes on 
massive pricks while I settle for children. Little children with pricks the 
size of my middle finger. I need help, professional help. 

Emily was weeping now, the tears running down her cheeks in rivulets. She 
slumped to the floor, her hand under her skirt, and masturbated. The tears 
flowed freely as her orgasm sent thrills up her spine. 

God, what am I becoming? she asked herself, her fingers still working 
feverishly at the overjoyed nerve-endings in her drooling cunt. 

On the bed, Mack felt his balls tighten for the charge up May Dunn's hill. 
"I'm going to cum, baby," he gasped. 

"Not yet, wait. One more second and I'll cum with you," May cried. "NO! 
Don't wait, I'm there. I'm cummingggg, too!" 

Tiny May Dunn thrashed wildly as big Mack poured his hot sticky cum into her 
twitching cunt. 

On the floor, Emily gasped for air and pulled her fingers from her soggy 
cunt. 

On the bed, Mack gasped for air and pulled his shriveling rod from May 
Dunn's soggy cunt. 

May gasped for air. "Do it again, you sonofabitch." 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

The next morning Emily decided on a plan of action and called the clinic 
where her brother-in-law was employed. She made an appointment with Ray for 
three that same afternoon. 

Mack awakened with a terrible hangover. He left the house without so much as 
a good-bye, complaining about his splitting head. 

Angie was still asleep. Dreaming, no doubt, about pot-bellied old men with 
unusually long penises. A sweet smile wreathed her angelic features. 

Emily arrived at the clinic at ten minutes to three. The white-clad woman at 
the front desk directed her to 4-B down the hall. Raymond Valverde, 
Psychologist was stamped on the door in gold. 

"Is Dr. Valverde expecting you?" the voluptuous young blonde in white asked. 

"Yes, I have an appointment for three," Emily answered. 

With a yawn the girl looked at her watch. The top two buttons on her uniform 
were open and Emily could see well into the deep cleavage of her large 
breasts. 

"It's not yet three. Will you have a seat?" the blonde said, curtly. 

Emily had no more than seated herself when Ray stuck his head through the 
door to his office. "Miss Jenson, will you....? Emily, I didn't know you 
were here," he cried. "I told you to let me know as soon as Mrs. Foster got 
here," he said to the blonde. 

He crossed the room, his arms outstretched. "Em, it's so good to see you, 
it's been months," he said, hugging his sister-in-law. "And to what do I owe 
this delightful visit?" 

"It's good to see you, Ray. Couldn't we talk in your office," Emily said, 
glancing at Ray's receptionist. 

"I'm sorry, of course." He ushered her into his office; it was plush and 
tasteful. "Excuse me a second, I'll tell Miss Jenson not to disturb us." 

He stepped back out the door. Miss Jenson's desk was only a step away. Ray 
took the step and leaned close to the shapely girl, cupping one of her 
oversized breast in his hand. 

"Hold all calls, Jan. I don't want to be disturbed," he said. "And while I'm 
thinking of it, let's stop for a drink after work." 

"I can't," Jan simpered, "my fianc''s picking me up at four-thirty." 

"Shit," Ray growled. 

"If you're really interested, though, you could stop by my place around 
nine. Bob is going on the road tomorrow and will want to get home early." 

"Are you sure hell be gone by nine?" 

"I'll make sure if you're coming by," she said, rolling her big, blue eyes. 
"My roommate's gone too. You could stay all night if you can think of an 
excuse for your wife." She reached out and caressed the growing lump in his 
trousers. 

Emily stood in the doorway listening. She felt like getting terribly angry; 
after all, he was her only sister's husband. He shouldn't play around on 
her. Then she thought of herself, of all the husbands and wives at the party 
last night, of Joanie herself and Mack's big cock jammed snugly between her 
sister's thighs. What the hell? She sighed, and went and sat down in a huge, 
overstuffed chair beside Ray's desk. 

Ray kissed the hot blonde's lips and stepped into his office. He pushed the 
door closed and crossed over to the chair behind his desk. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Em, but these office-type girls can be so dense 
at times," he said. "And now, you. You look great. This must be a social 
call, because you look too good to have any trouble." 

"I do have trouble, Ray, sexual trouble," Emily blurted out before she had 
time to lose her nerve. 

Ray frowned and put the tips of his fingers to his lips. "I'm no doctor, 
Em," he said. 

"It's not physical, Ray. It's in my head." 

"I'm no psychiatrist, either, but I'll sure help if I can." 

Emily started at the beginning with Uncle Lester and by the time she got to 
her agonizing honeymoon her face was beet red. "This is so embarrassing, 
maybe I should have gone to a psychiatrist, at least to a stranger, but I 
thought it would be easier talking to you." 

"Just relax, Em, and pretend I am a stranger. I'm sure I can be of help to 
you," he said. He was already sure that he couldn't help her, but he wanted 
to hear her story. Ray had wanted to get into her pants from the moment he 
met her. She was so good looking, so built, so sexy; and age had done 
nothing but improve her. 

"It's not really an accepted practice, but let me pour you a drink. It'll 
help you to relax." 

"I had two before I came," Emily said, "but yes, I believe another would 
help." 

Ray took two paper cups from his desk and filled them to the brim from a 
flask. "I think I'll have one, too," he said, handing her the cup of 
whiskey. 

Emily took a sip and winced. "God, Ray, that's straight whiskey. I prefer 
Scotch." 

"Sorry, honey. I don't have any Scotch." 

"Any old port in a storm," Emily said and downed the whiskey. 

Emily launched into her story. As she progressed she grew bolder and more 
descriptive. She grew excited as she related her sordid tale to her handsome 
brother-in-law and opened and closed her legs regularly. By the time she got 
to the hunchback, her panties were clearly in view. Ray thought his pecker 
would split open all the way down, it was so hard. 

An hour and a half and five cups of whiskey later, Emily ended her tale with 
a brutally graphic description of Mack screwing the three-month bride while 
she herself masturbated in the shadows. 

"Well, you've heard the worst, Ray. And I'm sure you hate me now." 

"Nothing of the kind, Emily. I'm a psychologist and I understand these 
things," Ray said, rising from his chair. "Let me tell Miss Jenson to go on 
home and well discuss your problem further." 

Emily wanted to follow Ray to the door and see what he did, but she forced 
herself to remain in her chair. The crotch of her panties was sopping wet. 

Ray closed the door behind him and leaned toward the voluptuous office girl. 
Her skirt was well above her knees so he laid his hand on her soft thigh. 

"Your boyfriend is probably waiting for you, so why don't you go ahead and 
take off. I'm not quite done here yet. I'll lock up when I leave." 

Jan pouted up at him, suspecting hanky-panky in his office. "You shouldn't 
put your hands on my leg, someone might walk in." 

"To hell with someone," Ray said, running his hand up under her skirt and 
nuzzling his fingers in the thick mat of fragrant black hair between her 
legs. 

"Jesus, Ray, save it for tonight," she said, hunching against his hand. "You 
will be over, won't you?" 

"At nine sharp, baby," he answered, pulling his finger through the fat lips 
of her cunt. 

Ray stepped back through the door and deftly snapped the lock as he pushed 
it shut. Taking his seat, he pursed his lips and rested his fingertips on 
his chin. A very professional pose, he thought. 

"What we have here, Emily, is a classic case of over-reaction to penis size. 
It's really very common." Ray had never heard of a case before in his life; 
in fact, he had made it up. 

"Can you help me?" Emily asked. 

"I'm sure I can, Emily. Now what I'm going to prescribe may sound very 
unorthodox, possibly even shocking, but it's the only therapy that has ever 
produced any tangible results in cases like this." 

"I'll do anything, anything you say." 

Ray let his eyes travel up Emily's splendid legs and stopped at the fringe 
of yellow panties peeking from beneath her skirt. He suppressed a smile of 
triumph. 

"It's obvious from your story that you have a fear of large penises, not all 
penises. You have stated that you enjoy a young boy because his genitals are 
small, and that as you become accustomed to his size you feel the need to 
move on to a boy a little older, hence, one with a larger penis. You have 
even indicated an unusual fascination for the gargantuan girth of the 
hunchback freak. 

"Now as I see it, the solution to your problem is quite simple. You need 
only to get accustomed to a size and then move on to someone who is built 
larger. Ending with your husband or maybe even this grotesque freak you 
mentioned." 

Ray looked into Emily's eyes. He was sure she looked very shocked. In 
reality she was intrigued. Maybe it would work. She knew she was no longer 
satisfied with tiny Marty. Even Tim seemed too small and she had enjoyed 
Sanford immensely. But the horrible Hunchy, never! 

"You look shocked, my dear," Ray said. "I will admit it seems rather 
drastic, but your mental health is at stake. You must take drastic action." 

"Actually, it makes a great deal of sense, Ray. And I did say I'd do 
anything. I meant it." 

Ray felt his pecker twitch in his pants. He swallowed hard and continued, 
"Well, we've surmounted that obstacle, but what I have to say now may 
destroy the whole thing." 

"I'm listening," Emily said. Her pants were on fire. She wanted to get the 
interview over so she could go and find the next size up. 

"You have no way of knowing, of course, but I have never been what could be 
considered generously endowed. In fact, my penis is not a great deal larger 
than a young boy's." 

He hesitated a moment to gauge her reaction. She showed no sign of distaste 
so he continued, "As a trained psychologist I can't help but feel I can ease 
you over the trauma of starting a quest for larger co ... penises." 

"Sounds fair enough," Emily said blandly. Inside her heart was pounding at 
the thought. She had always liked Ray Valverde. 

"I hope you understand what I mean," Ray said, unzipping his pants. 

"I understand perfectly, Ray. Go ahead, take it out, let me see it." 

Ray fished into his trousers and slowly extracted his hard pecker. He was 
understandably sensitive about its size. Joanie ribbed him unmercifully and 
called him pencil prick. She admitted, though, that she liked for him to 
stick it in her pencil box. 

"It's gorgeous, Ray," Emily said. "Play with it a little while I watch." 

Emily had titillated herself into a state of sexual frenzy with her own 
story, and since she was quite tight, she didn't care any more who serviced 
her as long as someone did. 

Ray rolled his chair closer and started to masturbate. Emily watched with 
fascination. His prick was larger than Sanford's, but compared to Mack's it 
still looked like a little boy's. She lifted her skirt about her hips. 

"Take off my panties, Ray. I want you to make love to me." 

"With pleasure," Ray said, dropping to his knees in front of her. 

She lifted up while he pulled them down her legs. 

He put his hands on her knees and spread her legs apart, then lowered his 
face into the pungent, hair-infested nest. Emily scooted down in the seat to 
meet his mouth. After a few minutes of this, Emily was writhing with 
pleasure. 

"Oh, Ray darling, if you don't stop immediately I'll cum," Emily cried, 
forcing herself tighter against the clinging mouth. "Ray ... Ray, don't stop 
now, it's too late ... I'm cumming!" 

Emily thought she would faint. It was so good, so good. She had never had it 
done by someone who knew how before, and Ray didn't just know how, he was an 
expert. In fact, he was so good that Joanie wouldn't let him fuck her unless 
he brought her close with his mouth first. For over five years now Ray had 
never fucked his wife without first sucking her cunt. He was a cunt-lapper 
par excellence. 

Emily was floating on a cloud and only vaguely realized he was pushing her 
onto the floor. He crawled over her body and pushed inside, fucking at her 
rapidly. It made him very hot to eat a pussy, especially a new pussy. Her 
senses returned at the feel of his cock inside her cunt and she started 
working with him. 

"Oh, Ray, that feels so good, don't ever stop," she moaned. "I love you, I 
love you ... Ohhhh, Ray darling!" 

"You hot bitch," Ray muttered, "you just love to get fucked. And Joanie said 
you were a cold ass." 

"I was, but that's all in the past. Keep fucking ... don't stop for an 
instant ... I think I can cum again." 

"Jesus, Em, I'm going to cum!" Ray cried. 

"Me too, me too!" 

When she felt his hot sticky nut juice she rocked off into another orgasm, 
more violent than the first one. 

Emily held his dick inside until it became so soft it was no longer 
possible. He raised up on his knees and Emily looked at his tiny pecker 
poking through the zipper. 

"Why you didn't even take down your pants," she said. 

"I just couldn't wait. You not only taste delicious, but you fuck to 
perfection." 

Emily blushed. "Oh, Ray, it was just wonderful for me, too. It was the best 
it's ever been. I could do it all over again." 

"You little bitch," Ray said and grinned. "You're not only a turned-on cunt, 
but I think you have the makings of a true sensualist." 

"What does that mean?" 

"Well, for one thing, it means that after you bring a man off and drain him 
of everything he's got, you can make him hot again immediately." 

"How do I do that, like this?" She sat up and took his wrinkled cock in her 
hand. 

"Oh, it takes much more than that. First you have to remove all my clothes," 
Ray said. 

Emily pushed him back on the carpet and slowly removed his clothing. "Then 
what?" she asked. 

"Remove yours next." 

She peeled them off, then planting a foot on each side of his chest, stood 
over him, and opened the lips of her cunt with her fingers. 

"Beautiful, beautiful," Ray cried. "You have the body of Venus. Now there 
are many ways to arouse a sated man, but one of the best is to love him 
orally-all over his naked body." 

Emily was glad now that she had read all of her husband's dirty books. She 
dropped down on top of the frail man and pressed her wet cunt into his leg. 
Her assault began at his forehead, kissing and licking every inch of skin, 
her tongue seeking and entering every opening, no matter how tiny. 

"Am I doing it right?" she asked, drawing her tongue from his mouth. 

"Yes," Ray wheezed, "just keep it going." 

Emily moved slowly down his chin and neck, her tongue wet and active. His 
whole body was hairless and bronze in color. His skin was smooth and 
flawless, even more so than her young boys had been. Emily had flipped; she 
felt hot and dirty and wonderful. As she sucked voraciously on one of his 
dark nipples, she ground her juicy cunt into his knee. 

"I'll give you a trip around the world you'll never forget," she said, 
sliding her wet mouth down his stomach to his belly button. She had known 
all along what he wanted, having studied it carefully in one of Mack's sex 
manuals. 

She stopped at the fringe of coal-black hair on his crotch and rolled him 
over. His back, buttocks and legs got the same treatment. She came back up 
his legs and spread his cheeks wide open. The job she did on his pungent 
ass-hole was less pleasant than she had hoped, but she performed 
brilliantly. When she finished with his bung and rolled him over, his cock 
was harder than a glass test tube. 

"God Almighty, how could your sister have been so wrong," Ray gasped as 
Emily's hot mouth slid around his cock. 

Emily drew up slowly and let it pop free. "She was wrong, and she wasn't 
wrong," she said. "I was cold, but it was because I was programmed for it. 
Not any more. I think I'm completely reprogrammed." 

Her mouth played with his nuts, her tongue wetted them, her lips went back 
to his cock. 

"I don't know if you're completely reprogrammed or not, but you're sure as 
hell programmed to suck cock," Ray said, trying desperately to hold back his 
second load. He failed. "I'm going to cum," he screamed. 

"Wait a minute, I have a couple of tricks I haven't tried yet," Emily cried, 
raising her face. 

"I can't wait," Ray groaned, spewing his ball stuff onto her face. 

Emily tookhis cock back in and sucked out what he had left, then wiped at 
her lips with her tongue, salvaging as much of his goo as it would reach. 

She got up and went to his desk. "Let's have another drink." His flask was 
empty. "Don't you have another bottle somewhere, I need a drink?" 

"That's it, Em. I usually don't drink during the day," Ray answered, his 
voice flat and weak. 

Emily went to her purse and got a cigarette. Since Ray was a non-smoker, she 
sat beside him and blew smoke in his face. 

"Let's do it again. I want to feel your dick inside me one more time," Emily 
said. "I want to see if it really felt as good as I thought it did." 

Ray let out a long groan. "Jesus Christ, Emily, my nuts are drained. I 
couldn't do it again; I doubt if I'll get a hard-on for a week." 

"What about Miss Jenson?" Emily asked, grinning. 

"What are you talking about?" Ray said, sitting up. 

"I heard you proposition her for tonight, Ray, how could you do that to my 
baby sister?" 

Ray looked dumbfounded. "What about us, now?" 

"That's different; this is therapy. And maybe I did it to keep you from 
stepping out on Joanie." 

Emily liked that idea. It had just occurred to her, but it eased her 
conscience. Yes, that was why she was so hot for Ray. To protect her baby 
sister. Her conscience was clear. She went back to work on Ray. 

It wasn't a week before Ray got another hard-on; it was about twenty 
minutes. Emily straddled him and got all that he had, little as it was. She 
came very quickly on top, and then again, and again. 

"I'd never have believed it possible," Ray cried as he popped his nuts for 
the third time. 

Ray lay limply on the floor and watched Emily get dressed. "Miss Jenson 
won't be speaking to me tomorrow because there's no need to go see her now," 
he said. 

"That's good. Go home to your little wife like a good husband." 

"You won't ever let what we did slip to your sister, will you? Joanie saves 
herself just for me and she thinks I do the same. Don't tell her different." 

"Why would I do that?" Emily said, turning her back so Ray couldn't see the 
smirk on her face. 

Saves herself just for him, Emily thought, that's a real horse-laugh. She's 
probably jazzing the ice man right now. That's positively ridiculous, they 
have an electric refrigerator. It's got to be the Fuller Brush man, or the 
grocery boy, or an insurance salesman ... or maybe even the Avon lady, that 
Joanie's a pretty fucked up gal. 

Emily turned sharply. "Ray ... never mind." She was going to tell him that 
his wife had been fucking anything in britches for quite some time, but 
changed her mind. Why give the great psychologist another hang-up? If he 
couldn't keep his wife satisfied with his dinky dick, he could always suck 
her off. God knows he was certainly deft at that. It made Emily's pussy 
twitch just to think about it. 

Emily returned three times for more therapy. The third time she wouldn't let 
Ray stall it off until Miss Jenson had gone home. She tired of the ugly 
looks she got from the big-titted cunt when she came into the office. On 
that last time she opened the inter-com on Ray's desk so Miss Jenson could 
at least listen. 

Afterward, she tried to tell him tactfully that his pigmy prick just wasn't 
doing the job any more-it was time to move up the ladder. 

Ray was understandably hurt. First he grew angry and cursed her, then 
remorseful and shamed her, and finally shameless and begged her. 

She refused as graceful as possible and walked out the door, stopping 
briefly at Miss Jenson's desk. 

"I think the poor guy's about had it, honey, but he could probably manage a 
mouth job if you're really in a bad way," she said. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Emily had misgivings about dropping Ray, yet she knew it was the only thing 
to do. She was determined to enjoy sexual relations with her husband, and to 
accomplish this it meant she must move on to bigger and better things. She 
was now convinced that if they were bigger, they were better. 

A week had gone by without any activity and she found that she was horny. It 
was a new experience for her to need sex, to want it terribly. Mack was 
rarely home, which didn't matter anyway because she couldn't manage him-yet, 
and she was still wary of just going out and picking up a man. Perhaps she 
could call Ray one more time; no, that wasn't the answer either. The kids. 
Never, that was past. 

She decided she needed company to get her mind on other things, so she 
called her neighbor, Norma. The phone rang several times before she heard 
Norma's nasal twang in the receiver. 

"Norma," Emily said, "come on over and have a drink with me. I need some 
company." 

"Lord, Em, I'm beat. We were out late last night and I was just getting 
ready to take a nap." 

"Take it over here. The patio is in the shade now and you know how you like 
to sprawl out in that big lounge chair of ours. I'm just getting ready to 
mix some tall, cool drinks, so come on over." 

"Oh shit, Emily," Norma snorted. "Quit your begging, I'll be over in a 
minute. I promise I'll fall asleep on you, though." 

"That's okay, I just feel the need to have someone around." 

Emily decided on martinis instead of something tall and cool and mixed up a 
big batch, very, very dry. 

"Good Lord, girl, those damn things will put me to sleep even quicker," 
Norma said, when she saw the shaker sitting on the small glass patio table. 
"Quick, gimme one." 

Emily poured and handed Norma one. "Just settle back and relax, I don't 
mind, really, if you doze off." 

"Good, because I know I will. If you're so lonely, where's all your family 
in your time of need?" 

Emily shrugged her shoulders and drained her glass. "Mack is at work, as 
usual, and Angie, God, I haven't the faintest idea. I've barely seen her all 
summer." 

As Emily poured herself another drink, the doorbell rang. "I'd better get 
it, even the help is gone," she said. She went through the house and opened 
the front door. It was Rolph, Norma's oldest boy, and another young man. A 
rather strange-looking young man with thick glasses and black curly hair. He 
was short and very stocky. Rolph was tall and fair. 

"Hi, Mrs. F," Rolph said, "is my mom over here?" "Hello, Rolph. She's out on 
the patio, come on in." 

Rolph had called her Mrs. F for years, and until now Emily had never thought 
anything about it. Now, with her new interest and knowledge of sex, it 
definitely had dirty connotations. Especially with the way Rolph looked at 
her. She liked the way he looked at her. 

Without really realizing it, she rolled her ass just a little more than was 
necessary as the boys followed her through the house. She couldn't help but 
feel excited. These were big boys, not cub scouts. 

"Mom," Rolph said when they got to the patio, "can I use the car? We want to 
go swimming." 

"You're out of luck there. Your dad has the Caddy, and my car's in the 
garage. Goddamn T-Bird, it seems like it's in the garage all the time. 
What's the matter with Benny's car?" 

Benny bent his head and stared sheepishly at his feet. 

"The fuzz took his license," Rolph said. 

"That's rough. Looks like you'll have to run through the sprinkler," Norma 
said with a laugh. She was the only one that appreciated her bit of humor. 

"Why don't you guys use my pool. It's full of water and just waiting for 
someone," Emily said. 

"Gee, that sounds great, Mrs. F, do you really mean it?" Rolph said. 

"Rolph! I've told you a thousand times to call Emily Mrs. Foster," Norma 
shouted. 

"Go get your suits on," Emily said to the boys. "Don't get shook, Norma. I 
don't mind." 

"Well, I do," Norma snorted. 

By the time the boys got back, Emily had smoothed Norma's ruffled feathers 
and had two more martinis. The boys dashed by with a shout. Rolph was tall 
and slim and very handsome. Benny was short and muscular and very homely. 

Norma fell quickly to sleep, so Emily decided to go and watch the boys swim. 
As she neared the pool she heard the boys shouting, rather crudely, and 
stepped behind a bush. 

"Hey, Ben, I gotta take a piss," Rolph shouted. 

"Betcha can't piss halfway across the pool," Ben retorted. 

Rolph leaped out of the water and pushed his trunks down on his thighs. 
Emily shivered and leaned forward for a better look. 

"Keerist, Rolphy, you ain't got no cock at all," Benny taunted. 

"Like hell I don't," Rolph yelled back. "It just shrivels up in the water. 
Reach down and feel yours, then watch this." 

Benny dropped his hand between his legs while Rolph fondled his nub of a 
prick. It started to grow. It grew thicker and longer. 

Emily stifled a gasp. It was bigger than Ray's, and Rolph wasn't even 
twenty. 

"Jesus, I can't pee now. I'll have to let it go back down," Rolph said. 

Benny moved out about a third of the way into the pool. "Betcha can't get it 
to here," he shouted. 

"I'll pee right on your head, you dumb bastard," Rolph shouted back. 

Rolph stepped to the edge of the pool and let go. Benny was sure he couldn't 
reach that far and didn't duck. The yellow jet arched out over the water and 
came down on Benny's head. 

"You're pissing all over me, you dirty sonofabitch," Benny screamed, ducking 
under the water. 

"I told you I could do it," Rolph shouted proudly.-He stood and sprayed the 
rest of his urine across the surface of the crystal clear water. Afterwards, 
he stood and jacked off until his cock stood rigid again. 

The breath caught in Emily's throat. "I'm going swimming with those two 
delightful boys," she said to herself, and rushed back to the house. 

She went up to her room and dug out a skimpy little bikini that she had 
bought years ago and never worn. The only time she had had it on was at the 
store before she bought it. It was much tighter than she had remembered. It 
covered very little of her generous body. Her tits seemed to bulge out 
everywhere, and the tiny bottom worked up into the crack of her ass. Her 
pubic hair, of which there was more than ample, refused to be confined and 
poked out liberally between her thighs. She stepped up and looked in the 
full length mirror. 

"Good God," she moaned. "Have I put on that much weight?" 

She had, and most of it had gone in the right places. She bulged and curved 
out where she was supposed to. She had to stop once on her way down the 
stairs to stuff a tit back inside the bra. The tight briefs only aroused her 
stimulated cunt more as they pulled into the hairy lips. 

She sneaked past the sleeping Norma and streaked for the pool. Both boys 
stopped dead still in the water and stared as she came to the pool's edge. 

"It's so hot and you guys sounded like you were having a ball, so I decided 
to take a dip, too," Emily said. 

"Wow! You really look great, Mrs. F," Rolph cried. 

"Yeah, I'll say," Benny said with a gulp. "Come on n, the water's fine, Mrs. 
F ... oster." 

"Thank you, boys, I believe I will," Mrs. F said. She felt like Mrs. F with 
them leering at her near nude body. She tucked her hair into a cap and umped 
in. 

The water felt glorious, cool and refreshing. She warn the length of the 
pool and grasped the edge at the deep end. Her breath was coming in short 
pants. The booze and tobacco had taken its toll over the years, especially 
since she was drinking and smoking considerably more now than in the past. 
She turned and waved at the ogling boys. 

"Go ahead and have fun. I have to catch my breath. I'm afraid this is for 
young chicks, not old ladies," she called. 

Rolph swam up beside her. "You're not an old lady, Mrs. F, old ladies don't 
do for a bikini what you do." 

Emily blushed a little. "Why thank you, Rolph. You're sweet." 

She clung to the side of the pool, her mammoth mammaries even with the water 
line. They seemed to float and hold her up like water wings. The dark brown 
ring around one nipple peeked provocatively above the edge of her bra. Benny 
was now treading water beside Rolph, his eyes glazed with desire for the 
beautiful Mrs. F. 

"Why don't you race down to the other end. I'd like to see who is the 
fastest swimmer," Emily said. 

While the boys were frothing water in their dash for the honor of being a 
winner, Emily untied the little strings that held the bottom half of her 
bikini together. They came loose, and with a couple of wiggles sunk to the 
bottom of the pool, along with her briefs. 

Emily remembered the contented look on Marlene Speck's face the night of 
their party and wondered how it felt to fuck under water. She knew one 
thing-she was going to find out. 

Benny won the race by a quarter of the pool and flopped onto the apron 
gasping for air. 

"Bravo, Benny," Mrs. F cried. "Oh, Rolph, would you come back up here for a 
minute?" 

Rolph swung around in the water and swam back. Not nearly so fast, this 
time. He grabbed at the edge, missed and went under. His second try was more 
successful. 

"Rolph, I have a problem. I lost the bottom of my suit," Emily said softly. 

Rolph looked down. In the clear water it was obvious. He quickly looked back 
up, blushing. 

"It sunk to the bottom," she whispered. 

"Do you want me to dive down and get it?" 

"Not especially," Emily answered, looking him straight in the eyes. 

Rolph hung to the edge, his mouth open. "Wha . . what do you want me to do?" 
he stammered. 

Emily reached out and put her hand on his crotch. "You could take off 
yours." 

Rolph turned beet red. 

"Take off your trunks, Rolph," Emily said, squeezing his cock. 

As if in a trance, Rolph pushed at his trunks. Once they cleared his crotch, 
Emily started masturbating him. His cock grew hard instantly. 

"Kick them off, honey. Let them join mine on the bottom," she cooed. 

"I ... I don't understand. Oooh, that feels good, Mrs. F," Rolph whined. 

"I know what you mean by Mrs. F, Rolph. You just as well say it. Go ahead, 
call me Mrs. Fuck, because that's what I want you to do to me ... to fuck 
me." 

Rolph was squirming wildly in the water. "Where ... where?" 

"Right here in the pool. I'll grab hold of the edge and you come up close 
behind me and see if we can get it in." 

"What about him?" Rolph asked, pointing at Benny at the other end. 

"We'll be under water, hell never know. Now come on, get up real close." She 
faced the edge of the pool and hooked her arms on the cement ridge. 

Rolph was excited now. He came up behind her, clinging to her with one hand 
while the other jabbed his cock between her legs. She arched back, her legs 
spread open, but his dick wouldn't go in. 

"Oh shit, get it in. I need it," she snapped. 

"I can't, it doesn't seem to be long enough." 

He made several more attempts without any more luck. Benny watched from the 
other end, wondering what was going on. 

Emily pushed him away. "Let me turn around, it'll be easier that way." 

She turned around and locked her elbows over the edge, her body floating out 
to meet him. He came between her legs and grabbed the edge of the pool with 
one hand. With his other hand, he took his cock and pushed it against her 
cunt. After several misses, she felt it enter her and wrapped her legs 
around his back. 

"Get it all in, Rolph. Get it all in and fuck me ... good!" Emily moaned. 

Rolph had both hands on the edge of the pool now and pushed his cock into 
her. She held him tight with her stout legs, moving her crotch against his 
as he stroked. 

"It's so big, Rolphy," she sighed. "It feels so good." 

Benny was no fool. He saw what was going on and quickly swam to the deep 
end. He got out of the water and sat on the edge watching, his cock pushing 
mightily against his trunks. 

Emily dropped her head back and saw Benny sitting there. "Oh, Benny, Rolph 
does it so good. I'm about to cum." 

Benny couldn't believe it. He had never been around when anything like this 
happened before. He stood up and shrugged his wet trunks off. His cock was 
bigger than Rolph's, as big as most men's, and hard as stone. He sat back 
down as close to the fucking pair as he could get. 

Emily's eyes were glassy. She looked at Benny and cried, "Feel my breasts, 
Benny, I'm starting to cum!" 

Benny's hand dipped into her tiny, overfilled bra, his cock pressed against 
her soft arm. One whole tit came free. Benny dropped his mouth over the 
hard, jutting nipple. 

Almost bumping heads with Benny, Rolph jerked and twisted in the water, his 
hot stuff pouring into Emily's belly. "Christ on a crutch!" Rolph howled. 
"Mrs. Fuck! Fuck, fuck! Oh, Mrs. Fuck, I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" 

With Benny sucking her nipple and Rolph cumming inside her, Emily had her 
second orgasm. It was so numbing that she would have sunk lifelessly into 
the pool if Benny hadn't held her. 

Rolph disengaged himself, and with considerable effort, draped his long 
frame over the edge of the pool. Emily slowly slipped deeper in the water. 

The muscular Benny grabbed her under the arms and pulled her out. He stood 
her up and removed her bra. "Let's go lay on the grass," he said, leading 
her away from the gasping Rolph. 

Benny pushed her down on the carpet-like lawn and stretched out beside her. 
He cupped her cunt in his hand and buried his face in her tits. His finger 
discovered her squishy hole and pushed in. 

"Oh, Benny, not yet, let me rest first," Emily moaned in protest. Yet, she 
pushed against his probing finger. Her cunt sucked it in. His finger was 
thick. "Ooooh, Benny!" 

Her passion returned quickly, especially when he guided her hand to his 
throbbing organ. It was only about five inches long, but it too was thick, 
very thick. It filled her hand. 

"Benny, Benny, it's so fat," she gurgled, "I want it, I do want it now ... 
fuck me, Benny." 

Benny was ready. He removed his finger from her cum-filled cunt and looked 
at it glistening in the sunlight. He stuck it in his mouth, tasting his 
buddy's cum, and crawled onto her sprawled-out body. Fitting his knob 
between the thick, hairy lips, he dropped his weight onto the luscious soft 
flesh of Mrs. Fuck. Her knees came up and his fat pecker slid all the way 
in. 

Emily didn't know why, but Benny's cock felt better than any she had ever 
had. Perhaps it was because the stocky, almost ugly boy subconsciously 
reminded her of the massively hung dwarf. She gurgled with contentment, 
drool wetting her lips and chin. 

"Kiss me, Hunchy, kiss me," she begged. 

Benny pressed his lips to her wet mouth and drew in her offered tongue. He 
felt flattered and hotter than ever when she called him Hunchy, thinking it 
was a term of endearment because he was humping her so good. 

Emily couldn't control her thoughts; she fantasized that the huge bulbous 
head of Hunchy's cock was spitting its filth into her salivating mouth. 
Emily had never been one for sexual fantasy, not until after witnessing the 
scene in the stable, now it was a regular thing. It had turned the 
unrewarding dissatisfaction of masturbation into a delightful experience, 
exceeded only by a real live cock. 

Emily returned to the living, savoring his tongue in her mouth and his cock 
in her pussy. 

"Benny, Benny, you're so good," she moaned, lifting her hips with every 
inward stroke. 

"Oh, God, Mrs. F, I'm going to cum in a minute," Benny cried. 

"Pull it out before you do and cum on my legs, I want to feel it," Emily 
gasped. 

"I want to cum inside you," Benny protested. 

"Please, please, cum on my legs, I'll let you have me again if you do ... 
any time you want." 

At the last instant, Benny reluctantly jerked his prick out, his copious 
load cumming in gobs. He directed it high on her thighs. 

"Don't miss, don't get any on the grass, get it all on me," Emily cried. 

Benny thought she was nuts, but what the hell, anything to please the lady. 
He grabbed his cock and wiped the last of his goo in her thick, silky 
pussy-hair. 

Emily reached down with her hand and collected the gunk from her thigh. She 
rubbed it into her pussy, her fingers growing more frantic with each 
pressing movement. Her whole body shuddered and she ground into her crotch 
with her knuckles. 

"I'm cumming, Benny! Oh, God, am I ever," she moaned through clenched teeth. 

Emily finally sat up and slipped her hand under his crotch. His balls felt 
cool; his cock felt hot. She started kissing him on his chest, sucking 
fervently at his flat nipples. His pecker stiffened in her hand. 

"Do you want to go again?" he asked. 

"I'll tell you what, darling," she cooed softly, nuzzling at his belly 
button, "if you should be taking a walk down Fulton Street at eight o'clock 
this evening, I just might be going for a drive and pick you up. We'd both 
enjoy it more then." 

"Yeah, and I could be a lot better then, too," Benny said, beaming. Benny 
jumped up and ran over to the pool. "Hey, Rolph, I gotta be goin', " he 
yelled, pulling on his trunks. 

Rolph came over to where Emily lay in the grass. He looked around furtively. 
"Where is my mom?" he asked. 

"She's sound asleep on the patio." "Are you sure?" 

"Yes, I'm sure," Emily said, smiling up at the tall boy. 

Rolph sat down beside her, his hands roaming over her naked body. They 
talked for a while. Somewhere along the line the talking stopped and Emily 
drew the boy between her legs. She quickly raised a hard-on for him and 
slipped it inside her cunt and wrapped her arms and legs around his back. 
She rocked sensuously beneath him, erotic visions dancing through her head. 

Rolph lasted a long time, bringing Emily off twice. Five times, it was a 
high for her, something to shoot at. Rolph finally shot his nuts off, got up 
and left without saying a word. Emily drifted off into a light slumber. 

Emily rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. Norma, stood looking down at 
her. 

"Do you sleep out here in the nude often?" Norma asked, a hint of reproof in 
her voice. 

Emily stretched and sat up. "No, not really, but after the boys left, the 
water looked so inviting that I decided to take a swim, and after that, a 
sunbath. Care to join me?" 

"Thanks, but no thanks," Norma snorted. 

"Let's go in the house and have a drink then," Emily said. 

"I'd better scoot, dear. Sidney is taking me out tonight for a change, and I 
have a pack meeting tomorrow. I have to prepare for the goddamn little 
monsters." 

I'll bet you don't prepare for them like I would, Emily thought, a tingle 
running through her body. 

Emily went into the house and made herself a drink, then went to her room 
and took a nap. It was dusk when she awakened. She showered and fixed her 
hair, powdered and perfumed all the right places, and got dressed. 

On her way out, Emily stopped and looked into Angie's room. Angie was laying 
on her bed reading a magazine. She glanced up and waved at her mother. 

"Hi, mom, have a good nap?" Angie said. 

"Excellent," Emily answered. "Have you had supper, hon? " 

"Yeah, cook made me a sandwich." 

"I think I'll go for a drive, care to go along?" 

"Nah," Angie snorted. "That wouldn't be any fun." 

"You kids. Think you know it all, don't you?" "Enjoy yourself," Angie said, 
returning to her magazine. 

Enjoy myself, Emily thought, I sure as hell will. I'm going to have a ball, 
two of them in fact. 

She stopped and had a drink before leaving the house. On her empty stomach 
it made her dizzy. She went to the garage and backed out the big Caddy. The 
Mercedes was just too damn small for what she had in mind. The top was 
already down on the big convertible and the sun, almost lost behind the 
horizon, still felt warm on the back of her neck. 

She saw Benny from a block away. He was barefooted and shirtless, wearing 
only a pair of cutoff jeans. As she bore down on the broad-shouldered youth, 
shivers of anticipation ran down her spine. She was approaching him from 
behind, yet in her mind's eye she could see him perfectly. His broad, flat, 
well-muscled chest, smooth and hairless; his equally flat face with its 
piggish snout; his too-large teeth, just a little brown from smoking too 
much; the thick, convex glasses that gave him a sinister look; and the heavy 
concentration of adolescent pimples. It was a combination that made him 
beautifully ugly, repulsive even. 

As she eased the car to the curb beside him, she could feel the moisture 
gathering high between her thighs. She was wearing a skirt and blouse and 
nothing else. Unless, of course, you considered such things as a pair of 
flats on her feet, wedding rings on her fingers, and the dainty gold chain 
around her neck with the tiny cross hidden snugly between a pair of 
mountainous tits. Tits whose nipples were already firm with expectation. 

"Fancy meeting you here, Benny," Emily said. 

"Would you like a lift?" 

"Hi, Mrs. F," Benny answered, climbing in beside her. "I was almost afraid 
you wouldn't show." 

Mrs. F lifted the tail of her skirt high above her hips. "I'll show you 
anything you want to see, darling." 

"You have a beautiful cunt, Mrs. F," Benny said. 

"All the better to fuck you with," Mrs. F answered. "Slide over closer, 
darling, and we'll go somewhere where its more secluded." 

Benny slid over until their hips were touching. Before driving off, Emily 
reached down, opened the front of his jeans all the way, and took out his 
cock. It zoomed from half-hard to full erection inside her hot little hand. 
Benny decided that the pocket pool he had been playing to keep himself hot 
had been frivolous and totally unnecessary. 

Benny slid his hand under her skirt. She opened her legs as far as they 
would go under the circumstances. Her cunt was hot and wet. Emily shivered. 
She wasn't sure, but maybe she came as soon as his fingers touched her. If 
not, she decided it was close enough, anyway. Six times so far today; not 
bad. She roared away from the curb, Benny's cock pulsing inside her hand. 

She whipped the car into Bill and Clara Ramsey's driveway and cut the 
engine. Bill and Clara were in Colorado fishing. The driveway was long and 
lined with shrubbery. She let the seat go back all the way, providing plenty 
of room. 

Benny quickly removed her skirt and opened her blouse. "May I kiss it, Mrs. 
F? I've always wanted to taste pussy, ever since I saw my dad eating my 
cousin's cunt at a family reunion." 

"Christ yes, Benny ... I thought you'd never ask," 

Emily said, bringing both legs onto the car seat. 

Benny lowered his head, hesitating just inches from her strongly ripe pussy. 

"Eat it, you little bastard," Emily cried, grabbing him by the ears. 

His tongue was rough, like course sandpaper, and like the rest of him, 
thick. He made good use of it, too. He had complete access to her, since one 
of her feet was on the floorboard and the other was over the back of the 
seat, spreading her as wide as was possible. She slipped lower and lower in 
the seat, pressing herself against his mouth. 

"Oh, God, you do that good, Benny," she moaned, "don't ever stop." 

She almost wished Angie had come with her. In her randy, out-of-control 
condition she wanted to see Benny eat her daughter's cunt. And, it was a new 
idea for her, shove his fat cock up her cute little ass-hole. Emily 
stiffened at the thought, no doubt in her mind whether she was cumming or 
not this time. 

She gritted her teeth and grunted low in her throat. "Seven, seven, seven," 
she moaned. 

Raising herself up a little, she pushed Benny's head from between her 
thighs. "God, Benny, I really made it that time." 

"You mean I really brought you off with my mouth?" Benny asked proudly. 

"You sure did, baby. Now lay back-in the seat, mama's hungry." She looked 
into Benny's eyes. "You would like me to suck you off, wouldn't you?" 

"Shit yes," Benny cried, getting himself in position. 

Emily lowered her head and blew her warm breath over his balls. "Benny?" she 
queried. 

"Yes, Mrs. Fuck," Benny answered lewdly. 

"Would you like to fuck my daughter?" "You mean Angie?" "Angie's the only 
daughter I have." "Hell yes, I'd like to fuck Angie. She's a real sexpot." 

Emily licked the clear juice hanging at the end of his cock. "Maybe we could 
arrange it. I think she'd like a nice fat pecker like yours." 

"Wow, I always thought sweet little Angie was a virgin," Benny said. "Are 
you telling me she isn't?" 

Emily hesitated before answering. "No, Benny, I'm afraid she isn't, Angie 
has been fucked before ... many times. In fact, I'm sure that if you tried, 
you could get into her pants without any help from me," Emily said, almost 
ashamed of her answer. 

She lowered her mouth around Benny's cock. For some perverted reason it made 
it better imagining Benny taking her young daughter out because he knew she 
was an easy lay. She decided to suggest it to Rolph, too. God, she could fix 
all kinds of guys up at the Foster Fuck Factory. Her hungry mouth pulled at 
Benny's thumping cock with a vengeance. 

Benny was no longer thinking about Angie, or Mrs. F, for that matter. He was 
imagining it was his own mother tooting on his horn, his own sweet, plump, 
sexing-looking mother. He couldn't understand why his dad fucked his aunt 
when his own wife was so much better looking. He knew pop screwed his mom's 
sister, too, because he had watched them twice. Once in the toilet while his 
mom was in the kitchen, just two rooms away. He had always wondered if he 
could get into his aunt, now he was sure he could. He decided to try next 
time she flaunted herself at him. 

Emily felt his cock creep deeper in her mouth. His cum slammed into her 
throat, hot and heavy. She almost gagged, then eased his cock back and drew 
his slime into her mouth in one long string. It was good and she devoured it 
all. 

"Lay back and relax, honey," she cooed in his ear, "and well do it like it 
was intended before I take you home." 

It was over an hour before she could get the exhausted boy up again, but it 
was worth every minute. She opened the door on her side and had him stretch 
out on his back, his feet sticking out the open door, and straddled his 
standing rod. It went right in, and by sitting up straight, she could get it 
all, right down to the last centimeter. Benny lay calmly still and let her 
do the work. 

"Oh, my God, I don't believe it," she cried, her lips quivering, "I'm going 
to cum already." 

They had only been going for a minute, yet her orgasm rocked up her spine. 

"Goddamn, but I love that feeling! Eight times in one day, care to try for 
nine?" she cried, bouncing on his prong. 

Number eight had just begun to subside when number nine rolled over it. She 
fell forward across the boy's chest, making sure to keep his cock imbedded 
in her cunt. 

"Sweet shit, Benny, cum ... cum, I can't stand any more!" 

Benny came, and Emily fainted. Her tenth orgasm of the day was just too 
much, it jarred her clear down to the tips of her toes. 

Benny slipped back into his cutoffs and Emily put on her blouse. She wadded 
up her skirt, stuffed it tightly against her crotch, and backed out of Bill 
and Clara Ramsey's driveway. She dropped him off in front of his house. 

He got out without answering and she drove off. "I'll never get another 
hard-on as long as I live," he muttered. 

Benny saw his aunt's car in the driveway. He felt a distinct stirring in his 
over-taxed loins. "Not tonight, I just can't do it again," he said, and 
walked up the street past his home. 

What Benny didn't know was that it wasn't his aunt; it was his uncle Henry. 
And Uncle Henry had Benny's sweet, plump mamma in the guest bedroom. He was 
fucking the living shit out of her, and she loved it. 

Emily went straight home and up to her room, leaving her rumpled skirt on 
the garage floor beside the car. She mixed herself a tall, strong Scotch and 
water. It went directly to her head. 

She sat in a daze on the edge of her bed. Why do I always overdo it? she 
wondered. Ten mother-fucking times in one day is just too much. Why not 
spread it out? Never again, I'm through with the whole sordid thing. It's 
not worth it, even for Mack. She had convinced herself it was all for Mack. 

Emily made herself another drink and promptly passed out. 

She had an erotic dream about Hunchy the horrible hunchback. In her dream, 
his cock was two feet long. She took it all and came in her sleep. For the 
eleventh time. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

It was almost two days after her wild orgasm orgy before Emily began to feel 
normal. Her hangover had been shattering and her pussy was raw and sore. She 
made a vow: no more booze, no more cocks. She had been contented before her 
fucking spree, and she could be contented again. 

By the evening of the third day, she cursed herself; she was horny again. 
She mixed herself a Scotch and water and sat down to read a magazine. One 
story and two Scotches later, she knew she couldn't keep the second half of 
her vow, either. 

Angie came bouncing down the stairs all decked out in a pair of overalls. 
"Hi, Mom, going out," she called. 

"Just a minute, young lady," Emily said sternly. "You don't mean to tell me 
you're going out like that?" 

"Of course, Mom. Don't be a jerk, it's the latest thing." 

"Where, might I ask, are you going? You never even ask if you can go any 
more." 

"To a dance. I have a date with a groovy new guy." 

Emily shrugged her shoulders, feeling like a failure. "Don't stay out too 
late," she said. Or get laid too many times, she added under her breath. 

"Hey, Mom, before I go, guess what I heard," Angie said. 

"Just tell me, you know I hate guessing games." 

"Well, you know that little Miss Rich-bitch, Rhonda Devonshire went to 
Europe-" 

"Yes, of course I know. Her mother told me," Emily said, making no attempt 
to hide her irritation. 

"It's not true, not at all. They shipped her upstate-to have a baby." 

"Angie! How can you say such a thing?" 

"I can't say where I heard it, but it's true, you can bank on it," Angie 
said with a smirk. 

"I don't believe it. If Rhonda was pregnant, and I can't believe that she 
was, they'd have gotten her an abortion." 

"Old lady Devonshire is archaic, she doesn't believe in abortion." 

"What are they going to do with the baby?" Emily asked, believing in spite 
of herself. 

"Adopt it out, I guess. No big deal," Angie said. "Well, got to run, I hear 
Teddy's car in the drive." 

Emily sat dumbfounded. Hunchy's baby? My God, had that horrible freak 
knocked up Rhonda Devonshire? If he had, it certainly didn't bother Ruth, 
she was still putting out for the little monster. Emily knew that for a 
fact, she had watched them. She couldn't help but wonder what the baby would 
look like. Would it be a hunchback, too? Would they adopt it out? Emily 
wondered what it would feel like to get knocked up by Hunchy. 

The doorbell rang. Emily jerked up from her reverie. It seemed like only 
minutes had gone by, although Angie had been gone for almost two hours. 
"Hunchy's baby, I can't believe it," she muttered, and went to the door. 

A tall, slim, rather frail-looking boy stood in the doorway. With him was 
Angie, or so it appeared. Her head hung loosely forward, her chin resting 
firmly on her chest. The nervous looking young man was doing his best to 
keep her from falling. 

"Who are you? Is that Angie with you? Is she hurt?" Emily cried, reaching 
out to help support the girl. 

"It's Angie, Mrs. Foster, and no, she isn't hurt," the boy said weakly. 

"What's the matter with her?" 

"I'm afraid she's had too much to drink, ma'am." 

"Oh, my God," Emily said, stepping out beside her limp daughter. "Well, 
let's get her in the house. You didn't tell me who you are." 

"I'm Chad Winters, ma'am, and I'm awful sorry to bring Angie home like this, 
but I just didn't know what else to do." 

"Black coffee and twenty turns around the block would have been a damn sight 
better than to bring her home like this for me to see," Emily snapped. "Fine 
thing, you take a fifteen-year-old girl out for the first time and get her 
dead drunk. What kind of a boy are you? " 

"Fifteen?" Chad yelped, "she told me she was nineteen, and I didn't get her 
drunk. They was spikin' the punch at the dance and I couldn't keep her out 
of it. I couldn't keep her away from other fellers, either. She's a helluva 
flirt." 

"Boy, you're a real Sir Galahad, aren't you, Chad Couldn't even lie for her 
and say you made her ge drunk. Well, don't just stand there like you're 
stupic help me get her up to bed." 

"Yes, ma'am," Chad said and gulped. 

Chad really wasn't much help, but they got her u the stairs anyway. On the 
landing Angie lifted he head and opened her bleary eyes. "Hi, Mom, ja mee 
Shad? he's helluva nice guy," she said, and promptly passed out again. 

They got her in on the bed. Emily pulled the covers back and started taking 
off Angie's shoes Chad inched toward the door. 

"Where do you think you're going, mister?" Emily barked. "You stay right 
here in case I need you." 

Chad stopped short and shoved his hands in hi pockets. He was wearing 
overalls, too. He wa raw-boned and skinny, with a nose far too big for hi 
homely face. Emily, for the life of her, couldn't see why Angie would even 
give him a second look. He had stringy, mustard-colored hair down to hi 
shoulders, too. 

"Are you new in town? I've never seen you around before," Emily asked. 

"No, I've lived here all my life, ma'am." 

"I wish you'd knock that ma'am crap off. Wha does your father do?" 

"He's not rich like you folks, he's a minister. Ove on the west side of 
town." 

"Christ, a holy roller, what the hell's the matter with Angie's taste?" 
Emily snorted. "You mean your father's a preacher and he lets you run around 
looking like that?" 

"He really can't say how I run around, I'm ove twenty-one." 

Emily turned and looked at him. "You're over twenty-one? And taking out a 
girl of fifteen?" 

"I thought she was nineteen. That's what she told me," he whined. 

"Shit. You can look at her and see she isn't nineteen," Emily said, turning 
back to her daughter. 

Emily unsnapped the buckles on the overalls and pulled them down. Angie was 
wearing a blouse with puffy sleeves that came down to her navel. Below that, 
there was nothing. Emily stopped for an instant when Angie's black pubic 
hair popped into view, then jerked the overalls down to her feet and flung 
them across the room. She turned and looked at Chad, who was staring at 
Angie's pubic bush. The gobs of dark hair stood out in stark contrast on the 
girl's white crotch. Chad couldn't help himself, he licked his lips. 

"What do you know, my daughter doesn't wear any underwear," Emily said, 
looking Chad in the eye. "Let's see if she wears a bra on her little, 
fifteen-year-old tits." 

Emily didn't know why she was doing this, it was like a fever, she couldn't 
control it. Displaying her young daughter's body to this boy was a horrible 
thing to do. It made her all hot and itchy between her thighs. 

She lifted Angie up and pulled the blouse over her head. Angie wasn't 
wearing a bra either, and her little fifteen-year-old tits weren't really so 
little. They were fine young humps of flesh with large, dark nipples. She 
released her grip and Angie flopped back onto the bed. 

"Take a good look, lover boy," Emily said sarcastically, "and see what you 
missed by letting her get so drunk so quick." 

Chad was beet red. He fidgeted from one foot to the other. It was obvious he 
wasn't used to this kind of thing. How the hell could he be, after all, he 
was a preacher's kid. 

"You're blushing, Chad. What's the matter, never seen a naked girl before?" 

"Yeah, sure, but never ... but..." he stammered. 

Emily reached out and grabbed his hand and pulled him close to the bed. She 
took one of Angie's legs and pulled it away from its mate. 

"Care for a feel, honey?" she asked, a lewd grin slashing across her face. 

"Ma'am, Mrs. Foster, you're puttin' me on." 

"like hell I am," Emily said, pulling on his arm and laying his hand on 
Angie's cunt. "It's no big deal, Chad Winters, she's been felt up before." 

Chad was scared stiff and shaking like a leaf, still, his fingers worked 
through the hair until he felt her moist cunt. Angie rolled her head on the 
pillow and moaned. 

"Feel her up good," Emily cried, pressing his fingers into Angie's crotch. 
"Put your finger in her cunt, Chad." 

Chad obeyed. His finger moved up into Angie's well-used pussy. 

"Finger-fuck her, Chad. Finger-fuck her and make her hot," Emily screamed, 
her lust out of control now. 

Chad wasn't sure what was going on, his own lust doing his thinking for him. 
He only knew that he was finger-fucking a beautiful, young, passed-out girl. 
Anc he didn't give a damn if it was wrong, not now. He put his other hand on 
her soft, full breasts. 

He felt something at his crotch and looked down in time to see Emily's hand 
shaking his rampaging pecker from the front of his overalls. His cock was 
long and thin and the head came almost to a point. It was curved in the 
middle so much that it was almost a half a circle. 

"Oh, God," Emily gurgled, "I never realized they were all so different. It's 
wonderful, every guy's cock is completely different from every other guy's 
cock. I want to see them all." Emily was talking more to herself than to 
Chad. Her mouth watered; she wanted that long, curved prong inside her 
snatch. 

"Would you like to fuck Angie, Chad? Right here on her own little bed," 
Emily asked him, sliding her hand back and forth on his cock. 

"Oh, oh, ma'am, Mrs. Foster ... I ... I don't know how. I never done it 
before." 

"You poor boy," Emily gushed. "You don't know what you've been missing. Take 
off your clothes, honey, and I'll teach you. You can practice on me first. 
You'll never learn any younger." 

Emily was already peeling off her dress. She undid her bra and pushed her 
panties down her long legs. Chad stood dumbfounded, his scimitar of a cock 
jutting out in front of him. Emily grabbed his overalls and started 
unbuckling them. 

"Get your clothes off, you boob," she wailed. 

His overalls crumpled to the floor and Emily tugged his Jockey's down his 
thin, bony legs. She wanted to take his odd-looking pecker in her mouth and 
suck some of the salty pre-cum out, but due to his inexperience she was 
afraid he would cum immediately, and she wanted it in her cunt worse. She 
stretched out on the bed beside Angie and opened her thighs. 

"Get your shirt off and lay down on top of me. I'm soft and warm all over. 
You'll love it." 

The preacher's kid tore off his shirt, popping three buttons in the process. 
He was nothing but bones covered with skin from head to foot. The only 
outstanding thing about him was his long, curved prick. He dropped down on 
top of her. 

Emily couldn't wait, she grabbed his throbbing rod and stuffed it inside her 
horny pussy entrance. "Shove it all the way in, honey. Hard and fast, I'm 
wet and ready all the way up to my tonsils." 

Chad obliged and jammed his pointed pecker home. Emily screamed. It hurt, 
but for the first time in her life, it hurt good. He was in to the root, and 
started stroking like a master, not a rank amateur. 

"Ooh, Chad, that feels so good. You weren't lying to me, were you, it is 
your first time?" 

"I wasn't lying," he answered, banging with skill. 

"Don't cum too quick." 

"I never cum too quick, ma'am. I masturbate a lot, usually three or four 
times a day, and I have control. Once I held off over an hour, and I never 
stopped pulling on it once." 

"Maybe in your fist, honey," Emily moaned, "but you ll never last anywhere 
near an hour inside little Emily's cunt." 

She threw her legs around his back and bounced her ass. She thought she 
would die, it felt so good. His crazy curved prick felt like it was arcing 
up inside her sheath and would poke out into the open through her belly 
button. She came hard, very hard, and Chad fucked on. 

"Don't you ever cum?" Emily gasped, fifteen minutes and another orgasm 
later. 

"I told you I could control it," Chad said proudly. "I think about other 
things. Right now I'm going over one of dad's old sermons." 

"Shit, it's no fun that way," Emily snorted. 

"Relax, and let nature take its course. Come on, pour your stuff into 
mamma's pussy ... wait, I have a better idea. Climb off me and finish in 
Angie." 

"I'd like that," Chad said nonchalantly, and pulled his slippery dick out. 

Emily decided she wanted it back, but he wouldn't give it back. He rolled 
off and spread Angie's thighs apart. He stood on his knees between her legs 
and looked at her cunt. He bent down and sniffed at the daintily-haired 
lips. 

"I've always wanted to do this," he said, wetting her slit generously with 
his tongue. "Besides, my dong'll go in a lot easier if it's wet, good and 
wet. 

He lapped at her cunt until he thought she was ready. Then, without any 
assistance from Emily, he plunged his cock into her belly. Emily watched 
with fascination while the funny looking young man fucked her unconscious 
daughter. 

Even though she had already cum twice, Emily felt herself getting hot again. 
Chad was in to his balls, humping like mad, and still he didn't cum. 

Angie started to groan and move in time with his strokes. With a moan she 
grew rigid and started cumming, tossing her head from side to side. She was 
still out like a light. 

Chad worked on, his whole body covered with sweat now. A tiny cry escaped 
Angie's lips and she grimaced in pain. 

"Hurry up and cum, Chad, you're hurting her," Emily cried. 

"I can't, ma'am. I can't seem to cum like this." 

"Well, pull out then, and I'll finish you off. I don't want you to hurt my 
little girl," the concerned mother said. She wanted more of his cock, too. 

Chad jerked his dick out and collapsed on the bed between Angie and Emily. 
Emily got him on his back and straddled him. His cock went right in, and 
Emily came ... hard. With a moan she sank down, forcing his dick inside to 
the root. She worked over the boy until another orgasm rocked her soul. Weak 
and fucked out, Emily rolled off. She had had enough. 

"Good Christ, Chad, you're not human," she gasped. 

"I just can't get the dang thing off this way. I'm sorry ma'am," Chad 
apologized. "Guess I been doin' it with my hand too much." He wrapped his 
skinny fingers around his bone. "I just as well finish it off." 

"Here, let me do it for you," Emily said, pushing his hand away. "Now don't 
think about something else, think about cumming. Think about cumming in my 
mouth. Think about shooting your filthy spunk down my throat. I'll drink 
every drop." 

Emily sat up and wrapped her mouth around the pointed knob. She sucked with 
her mouth and pumped with her hand. Chad started groaning; his toes were 
twitching, too. 

"It's gonna work, ma'am," he squealed. "Oh, sweet Jesus, I'm gonna cum, am I 
ever gonna cum. Swallow it, lady, swallow it all. I want my cum juice 
running down your perverted throat. You horrible, sex-crazed old lady, suck 
my nuts dry. Oh, goddamn, goddamn!" 

Chadwick Winters popped. His nuts boiled up and sent a load of slime 
slamming into her mouth that would drown a horse. Emily thought she would 
choke to death. It was more of that hot, horrible-wonderful gunk than she 
thought any cock could ever spew. Her throat burned with the uniquely spicy 
fluid. Raw whiskey was smoother. 

After she sucked his nuts dry, he got up and put his clothes back on. He 
bent down and pressed his mouth to her cunt. He sucked and licked at her 
gooie channel. Emily spread her legs wide. His mouth felt good there. 

He stood up straight and pointed his finger at her. "You're a wanton 
Jezebel, and you'll surely go to hell, ma'am. I'm goin' home and tell my old 
man what happened to me tonight, and when he gets done with his sermon, 
which should last the rest of the night, I'm goin' to my room and jack off. 
It ain't near as messy as this other way. I learned one thing 
tonight-fuckin' just ain't all it's cracked up to be." 

He turned on his heel and left. 

Emily got up and went into the bathroom and got a bowl of warm water and a 
soft cloth. She came back and sponged Angie off. The contented, angelic look 
on Angie's face as Emily smoothed the covers up over her made her feel 
terribly guilty. They were both monsters and she knew it. Emily gathered up 
her clothing and went to her own room. She took a mouthful of straight 
Scotch and swallowed it in one gulp to clean the scum from her esophagus. 
She dropped off to sleep with surprising ease. 

Mack came in about an hour later, and for the first time in weeks, crawled 
into bed with her. She slept soundly, not even realizing he was there. 

The next morning, Emily awoke to find her husband beside her. He was sawing 
logs. She pushed the covers down and ran her hand over his huge, muscular 
chest. He smiled in his sleep. Pushing the covers on down, she saw that he 
was naked except for a pair of very sheer women's bloomers. His massive 
pecker lay up over his belly under the silk. Even soft it strained against 
its confinement. 

"Oh, God, I know I can't take it yet," Emily said softly, "even after all 
I've been through." 

She reached inside the waist band and skinned the foreskin back. It hardened 
immediately. She withdrew her hand and grasped it tightly. Wrapped snugly in 
silk, she started to jack him off. With her newly acquired sensuality, she 
sensed he was close and put her lips over the opening hole in his glans. She 
strained his cum through the panties and once again drank the stuff of man. 
Somehow, it tasted much better filtered through expensive silk. 

"Suck it all out, baby," he moaned in his sleep. "I won't need it at home, 
anyway." 

Emily pulled the sheet up over her husband and went into the bathroom. She 
couldn't look at herself in the mirror; she was afraid the mark of Jezebel 
would be too plain to see. She sat on the crapper instead and peed. 

"You're a depraved pervert, Emily Foster, rotten to the core ... and it's 
all Uncle Lester's fault. If he hadn't molested you, you could have grown up 
a normal, healthy girl, instead of ... of a Mrs. Fuck," Emily said. 

She dabbed at her pussy with a piece of tissue and felt better now that she 
had blamed her weakness on someone else. It was a consoling thought not to 
be responsible for your own actions. 

She slipped on a robe and went down to the kitchen. She came back up the 
stairs with a tall, chilled glass of tomato juice. Angie would surely have a 
terrible hangover after last night. 

Emily sat on the bed beside her daughter and gently shook her awake. Angie 
opened her eyes, only to slam them shut again. 

"How do you feel, darling?" Emily asked. 

"I feel awful, mother, just awful," Angie wailed. 

"Sit up and drink this tomato juice, honey. .It might help a little." 

Angie sat up and took the glass from her mother's hand. It went shakily to 
her quivering lips. It didn't help much, but it seemed to momentarily quell 
her sour, tumbling stomach. 

"I'm sorry, Mother, I shouldn't have gotten that way," Angie said. "What 
must Chad think. He's a preacher's kid, you know." 

"Don't worry about Chad, just finish your juice and lay back down." 

Angie handed the empty glass back to Emily and carefully eased her pounding 
head back onto the pillow. She looked up at her mother with her big round 
eyes. "Did you put me to bed, Mother?" she asked. 

"Yes, dear." 

"Thank you, Mom." 

"That's what mothers are for, darling. Now you go back to sleep for a 
while." 

"Wait, don't leave yet," Angie cried, a grimace of pain crossing her face 
from the intensity of her own voice. "I had the strangest dream ... a wet 
dream ... maybe I shouldn't tell you." 

"You can tell me anything, dear." 

Angie drew herself up into a ball and looked at her mother for several 
minutes, then said, "I dreamed I was in my own bed with a guy. We were 
naked, and...." She blushed and looked away. ". . . And he was doing it to 
me. Oh, Mom, it felt so good. You're not mad at me for having a dream like 
this, are you? Should I go on?" 

"Yes, go on," Emily said softly. 

"Well, he had the funniest shaped ... uh, thing, and when it went up inside 
me it curved like a half moon and felt like it was going to poke out through 
my belly button. Can you believe such a stupid thing, Mom?" 

I sure as hell can, Emily thought. That's exactly the same sensation I had 
when it went up inside me. Both times. 

"It's so dumb, but I came so hard. It was heavenly, and it still seems so 
real, even now. Is it wrong to dream like that, Mom? Am I bad?" 

"No, you're not bad, Angie," Emily said, then thought, like hell. "It's 
natural for adolescents to have erotic dreams, even wet ones. I wouldn't 
worry about it. I'd better let you sleep now." 

Emily got up and started to leave the room. Angie sat up and called to her. 

"I'm normal, then?" 

Emily turned. "Yes, dear, you're normal. 

As normal as any other red-blooded, hot-pants young cunt that-likes hard 
pricks, regardless of the man's age. I was totally innocent at her age; what 
will she be like when she reaches my age? Emily shuddered at the thought. 

Emily went back to her room and sat down at her dressing table. She avoided 
looking directly into her face in the mirror. She was brushing her hair when 
Mack awakened. 

"Mornin', Em," he said, dropping his feet to the floor beside the bed. 

"Good morning, Mack. I must have been sound asleep when you came in, I don't 
even remember your coming to bed." 

"Yeah, you were really out. I was quiet so I wouldn't wake you up. It was 
pretty late," Mack said, yawning and stretching out his great arms. 

"That was sweet of you, darling," Emily answered sweetly. 

She didn't say anything about it being the first time he'd slept with her in 
quite some time. She didn't mention that he was wearing women's panties. 
And, she kept still about nibbling at his silk-encased pecker until he shot 
his load in her mouth, too. 

Mack looked down at the big stain in the front of his bloomers. He cursed 
softly. 

"What's the matter, dear?" Emily asked. 

"Nothing, just had a cramp in my big toe." 

He stood up and turned away from her. He pulled the panties out; his cock 
came with them, stuck tight. He smiled a pained smile as he pulled his cock 
loose. He inspected the peeled back knob to see if there was any damage. It 
was okay. He smiled and pulled the foreskin back up. 

Goddamn, I had a wet dream, he thought. It doesn't seem possible with all 
the pussy I've been getting. You'd think I was twenty-one. I wish I could 
remember my dreams, I'll bet it was a real lulu. 

"I'm gonna go take a shower, he said, pushing the panties down his legs. He 
left them laying where he stepped out of them. 

 CHAPTER TEN 

After the incident with Angie, Emily decided to swear off sex, take the 
pledge, so to speak. And she was going to do it cold turkey. No more peter, 
and that was that. 

She busied herself with other things, throwing her energy to management of 
the household and servants-yet, sex predominited her thoughts. She fought 
mightily against her foul thoughts, but she even glanced at the gardener's 
crotch to see if she could imagine the shape of his cock and how big it 
might be. She caught herself looking at men on the street, wondering what 
their penises looked like, felt like, even tasted like. 

She started going to the country club in the afternoon for a drink, but the 
bartender had a pecker-she knew he did. The waiters, the golf pro, the 
groundskeeper, even the boy who parked cars, they all were endowed ... and 
she wondered how? Her fantasies mounted, perhaps one of them even had a 
whang with a curly-Q in it. 

She avoided drinking too much at the club because she knew if she did, she 
would get laid, and by the first male that approached her. Her panties grew 
damp every time she saw a man, and if his pants were tight and showed the 
outline of his cock, she almost swooned. 

A hard cock wasn't just important to her anymore-it was everything! She saw 
them when she was asleep and she saw them when she was awake. She was 
miserable. 

After four weeks Emily began to calm down. She wasn't out of the woods yet, 
but her gnawing ache for cock wasn't constant anymore, only occasional. For 
a while she had thought she was going to go out of her mind with need. Even 
during her period she had wanted cock. She felt a great relief now that she 
could think of other things without her lust choking them from her mind. 

It was Saturday morning, a beautiful fall Saturday morning, and she felt 
wonderful. Mack had left the house early to go golfing so she decided to do 
some shopping, she needed some new clothes, anyway. 

Emily had all but forgotten their near argument of the night before. For 
another first in quite some time, Mack had spent the entire evening at home. 
He had looked up from his paper and mentioned that he had purchased a new 
bedroom suite for them-with twin beds. Emily wanted to scream, wanted to cry 
out that she had to fuck him in their double bed first. She settled for the 
plea that she would like to be consulted before they made a major purchase 
like that. . 

"Why the hell should I consult you?" Mack had said gruffly. "I never have 
before. Besides, what do we need a goddamn double bed for, we never act like 
man and wife anymore, anyway." His face went back inside his newspaper. 

Emily sat deathly still, trying to decide what to say. She finally decided 
on nothing. It was probably for the best, she would never reach her goal, 
anyway. She got up and said she was going to bed; her head was splitting. 

Mack didn't answer, and he was already gone when she awoke the next morning. 

After a light breakfast, Emily showered and got dressed. She checked to make 
sure she had all her credit cards and enough money to make any cash 
purchases necessary. The Mercedes was ready and waiting. 

The remainder of the morning went rapidly. She decided if Mack didn't need 
her help when he bought, she didn't need his; she bought everything she saw 
that pleased her. In the lingerie department she went wild, buying the 
scantiest and sexiest things she could find. Mack 'll be green with envy, 
she thought with a giggle. 

It was after two when she felt hungry and decided to stop and have some 
lunch. Over her second cup of coffee she got the urge to go and see her 
sister. She hadn't seen Joanie since the weekend that she watched Mack fuck 
her. 

Parking in front of Joanie's house, she went up to the door and decided to 
just walk right in. She could hear voices and wondered if Ray was home. 
Damn, she said to herself, I forgot that it's Saturday and that Ray'll be 
home. I sure hope I don't blush or something when I see him. 

Emily started to enter the front room and stopped short. It wasn't Ray. A 
big guy in cut-off jeans and nothing else was kissing the shit out of 
Joanie. He had his hand under her skirt, gripping her by the ass. Joanie was 
hunching up against his groin. Emily felt the fire rush to her loins. She 
stepped quietly back into the hall and leaned weakly against the wall. 

"Christ, Joanie, but you taste sweet. It's been so long," the man's voice 
said. 

"Teddy, baby, you know where I taste even sweeter," came Joanie's reply. "If 
you'll eat me, lover, I'll let you fuck me right here on the floor." 

Emily felt sick; she couldn't let Joanie do that. She wanted to peek in and 
see if the man had his cock out so bad it hurt, but she forced herself to 
leave the house instead. That was behind her, she had kicked that habit. Her 
whole body trembled. The moisture soaked the crotch of her panties. 

"I've got to save her from herself," Emily said, and rang the doorbell. 

No one came to the door so she rang again, and again. Her persistence 
finally paid off and Joanie opened the door. She tried in vain to hide her 
look of disgust when she saw it was Emily. 

"Hi, Em, what're you doing in this neck of the woods?" she said, her voice 
less than friendly. 

"I was out driving around and thought I'd stop and pay you a visit. Aren't 
you going to ask me in?" 

"Oh sure, come on in, stay all day." Joanie swung the door wide. 

Emily stepped inside and pushed the door shut. 

"You sound angry, Joanie, did I interrupt something?" 

"No, nothing important. A neighbor just dropped by to, uh, borrow the hedge 
trimmers." Joanie turned and raised her voice. "Ted, come out in the hall. 
It's my sister-come to call." 

Ted came out into the hall, a shit-eatin' grin smeared across his face. 
"Hi," he said. 

"Hi, Ted, I'm Emily," Emily said sweetly. 

"Ted," Joanie said, "the trimmers are in the garage, just help yourself." 

"Huh?" Ted said, a dumb look on his face. 

"And when you're done with them, bring them right back. I may want to use 
them later this afternoon." 

"Oh, yeah, I get i ... uh, sure, Joanie, later this afternoon." He turned to 
Emily, his face tinged with pink. "Nice to meet you, Emily." He took off for 
the garage without waiting for Emily's reply. 

Emily could see it all plainly enough. Joanie would get rid of the 
troublesome sister and then resume her tryst with the good-looking neighbor. 
like hell she would, Emily was determined of that. 

"Where's Ray today?" Emily asked. 

"He's working, won't be home until late," Joanie answered flatly. When 
Emily's face lit up she knew it had been a mistake to tell her that. 

"Wonderful," Emily cried, "grab a sweater and come home with me, I'm 
lonely." 

"Oh shit, Emily, it's clear across town to your place. And I want to be here 
when Ray gets home." 

"I'll get you back in plenty of time, I feel like driving today. Come on, 
let's go." 

"Piss on it! I don't feel like going over to your place," Joanie spat. She 
figured if she acted nasty enough, Emily would give it up. Emily had always 
been sensitive to rebuke. She hated to deliberately hurt her feelings, but 
hell, she wanted Teddy's fat tongue shoved up her cunt. 

"Why don't you fix us a drink first. I'm in no hurry," Emily said. "Or if 
you don't feel like mixing a drink, I can do the honors at my house." 

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Emily, I said I don't want to go to your goddamn 
house." 

"Please, Joanie," Emily begged. "Everyone is gone over there and I don't 
want to go home to an empty house." 

"Jesus H. Christ, Emily, you're the goddamnedest fuckin' baby I ever saw. 
Oh, all right, I'll go get my fuckin' sweater and go over to your fuckin' 
goddamn house if you want me to so fuckin' goddamn bad." 

Joanie could see her little tirade hadn't shaken Emily. It had always worked 
before. She shrugged her shoulders and went to get her sweater. Emily could 
hear her cursing and throwing things around. She smiled, proud of herself. 
She had saved her baby sister from sin. 

Joanie pouted and chain smoked all the way across town. 

"Make me that goddamn drink, and make it strong. I need it," she said as 
soon as they were in the house. 

"One strong drink coming right up," Emily chirped. "Oh, I'm so glad you 
came, Joanie dear." 

"Stupid fuckin' bitch," Joanie said, and flopped into a chair. 

Emily brought a tall glass filled to the brim. It was obvious from the color 
that it was mostly booze. "Here, sip on this while I run upstairs for a 
minute. Don't get too lonely while I'm gone." 

"Screw you," Joanie said, taking a big gulp of her drink. She grimaced and 
stuck out her tongue. "Shit! That's straight booze." 

Emily bounced up the stairs and was about to go into her room when she heard 
voices. She stopped and peeked stealthily around the door jam. "Oh no, not 
again," she moaned softly. 

Mack was in their bed, their double bed, with another woman. She looked 
again. It wasn't a woman really, just a young girl, maybe sixteen. 

"Oooooh, Mack honey, that feels sooo good," the girl cried. 

Mack was fucking the piss out of her. Emily's panties went wet. 

She was insanely jealous, too; perhaps more so than she had ever been. She 
wanted to rush in and jerk the big bastard off of the little hussy ... but 
she knew she didn't have the right. She had to earn that by taking care of 
her husband's big cock herself. She was so close to taking that huge thing 
in her twat, but wasn't quite ready ... yet. Her good intentions floated 
away in the mist of her urgent lust. She wanted cock! 

"I need just a little more therapy, Mack honey ... and for you, I'll get 
it," she muttered. 

She stood at the door watching, her heat rising by the second. Emily knew 
she must get fucked ... real soon. 

"Oh Christ, baby, I'm about to cum," Mack shouted. 

The girl pushed frantically on his chest. "No, no, not inside me," she 
screamed. "I'm not on anything, I'll get pregnant." 

Cursing loudly, Mack raised up and jerked his big cock out. It was just in 
time, too. His milky cum splattered onto her belly. 

"Sit up here and get the last drops with your mouth," Mack ordered. 

"Ugh," the girl said, sticking out her tongue. 

Mack reached down and grabbed her by the hair. "I said suck my cock, you 
little slut. You didn't tell me you weren't taking the pill." 

He pulled her up and jammed the steaming glans into her mouth. She didn't 
cooperate so he milked the last drops of cum out with his hand-into her 
mouth. 

The girl was very young, Emily could see that. Her breasts were small, but 
the nipples were hard and pointed. The girl orgasmed and started sucking on 
her own. She had never had a cock in her mouth before. 

Emily stared at Mack's huge pecker in the girl's mouth. "It's still too damn 
big," she murmured. "I need one more, just a notch smaller ... then I'll be 
ready." 

Deep down, Emily knew that she could take Mack's mighty cudgel right now, 
take it all and squeal for more, but she wanted to get laid again, and by a 
strange, new penis, one she had never seen before. Just one more time before 
becoming the faithful wife again. 

Just once more, she told herself, just once more for old time's sake ... and 
I hope to hell it's a good one. She looked in on Mack again. They were lying 
side by side, necking. Mack had his hand between her legs, gently massaging 
her tender young cunt. 

"Oh, Mack, I love you. You fuck so good," the girl said. 

"You ain't seen nothing' yet, baby," Mack growled, forcing his finger into 
her pussy opening. "Oooh, honey," she moaned, "do me again." 

Emily turned away with disgust. I'm not going to stand here and watch him 
screw her again, Emily thought. Hell no, I'm going out and get a cock for 
myself. 

She flounced down the stairs and headed for the door. Joanie was smiling now 
and held out her glass for a refill. "Let's have another, Em," she said. 

"Piss on this place, I'm going to a bar and have someone else mix," Emily 
snorted. 

"Emily! Your language. That's not like you. What's the matter?" 

"Nothing's the matter. Come on, let's go and get a drink. I need one now." 

Joanie followed her out to the car. Emily shoved it in gear and peeled 
rubber out of the driveway. The car lurched and squealed tires in every 
gear. Joanie was shocked; she had never seen Emily like this. 

Emily whipped into the parking lot of a fashionable little neighborhood bar. 
"Come on, maybe we can get picked up," she said. 

"Emily!" Joanie gasped, "what in the hell's come over you?" 

"Just shut up and come on, maybe you'll learn something," Emily snapped. 

Joanie was too dumbfounded to say anything more. Here was her Victorian 
sister talking about getting picked up; her ever so syrupy sweet, 
disgustingly polite sister snarling rudely at her. Joanie followed, her 
mouth hanging foolishly open. 

Emily went inside and stopped, waiting for her eyes to become accustomed to 
the darkness. She looked around the nearly deserted lounge and finally went 
over to the bar and slid her fanny onto a high stool. Joanie followed 
dumbly. 

Emily ordered two double Scotches. The drinks went down fast. The bartender 
was back almost immediately. 

"The gentleman at the end of the bar would like to buy you both a drink," he 
said. 

Emily looked down the bar. A young man smiled at her. He was slim, very good 
looking, and had long blonde hair. He looked like one of those new 
generation young executives. 

"Tell him to go to hell," Emily spat, "and bring us another round of the 
same. I'll pay for them myself." 

Joanie rested her chin in the palm of her hand and looked at Emily. "Just 
what is it you have in mind, sister dear?" 

"Darling, we don't want some snot-nosed kid who thinks he's God's gift to 
women down here telling us what a super stud he is. Now do we?" 

"You're right, of course," Joanie said, rolling her eyes. "God, I guess I 
will learn something." 

Before they were halfway through their second round, a man came in and, 
without waiting to look around, slid onto the stool next to Emily. He 
ordered a tall whiskey and water. The weather out was very hot; he took his 
handkerchief out and dabbed at the sweat hanging on his forehead in drops. 
The man was very black. 

Emily turned her head slightly and looked him over, from the corner of her 
eye. He wasn't too tall, but very broad of shoulder. His face had a rather 
pugnacious look about it, flat and ugly. Yes, the man would have to be 
considered rather ugly, white or black. Emily felt a strong fascination for 
the man. She didn't remember her Uncle Lester, had completely blotted him 
from her mind, but he too had been rather ugly. 

The Negro turned his head and saw Emily looking at him. He flashed a wide 
grin, his white teeth gleaming. "It sure is hot out there today," he said. 

"Quite warm," Emily answered, and turned back to her drink. 

The black man shrugged and did the same. 

Emily sat motionless for a moment, then took out a cigarette. "Do you have a 
light?" she said to the black man. Two books of matches lay open in front of 
her. 

He smiled again and whipped out a long, silver lighter. "Certainly do," he 
said, flicking it alive. 

"My name's Emily," Emily said, drawing in on her cigarette. The blue smoke 
curled from her nose and mouth. "What's yours?" 

"You can call me Herman." 

Emily stiffened visibly. 

"Something wrong?" Herman asked. 

"No ... no, of course not," Emily stammered, stalling to regain her 
composure. "Is that a common name among..." 

"Black men," he finished for her. "No, not really. Why do you ask?" 

"Oh, no reason ... particularly." 

"I have a son named Herman, but he's just a little feller, ten years old is 
all." 

Emily felt weak, almost faint. It couldn't be possible that this was the 
father of the boy she sucked off at den meeting. The world just wasn't that 
small; it couldn't be. 

If Herman noticed her inner turmoil, he didn't let on. "Can I buy you ladies 
a drink?" 

"I think that would be nice," Emily said, her racing heart trying to get 
back to normal. 

The conversation flowed easily. So did the drinks. 

"Care for another?" Herman asked. 

"Why don't we go over to a booth, these goddamn bar stools are murder on the 
back." 

Joanie had been sitting quietly, almost in a state of shock. She leaned over 
and whispered into Emily's ear, "Em, have you lost your marbles, for God's 
sake?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry. Herman, this is my sister Joanie. Joanie, this is Herman." 
Emily slid down from the stool and jerked Joanie off by the arm. "Come on, 
Joanie, we're going over to a booth." 

Joanie came quietly. Of course Emily had a grip like a vise on her arm. 
Joanie slid into the booth, then Emily, and then Herman. He signaled the 
barman for a round. 

"What brings you to this bar?" Joanie asked. 

Emily was feeling a real buzz from the liquor and didn't get Joanie's 
inference that Herman was out of place, but Herman did. 

"I just dropped in for a cooler. I often do, I live a couple of blocks from 
here." 

"Oh. You must be well-to-do. This is a very exclusive neighborhood," Joanie 
said, still chipping away. 

"I do all right," he said curtly, obviously annoyed. 

"I'll bet you do," Emily said, squeezing his arm. It was a very hard arm. 
"Oooh, are you this hard all over?" 

Joanie gasped, unable to believe her ears. 

Herman grinned and slid a little closer to the luscious white woman beside 
him. 

"My wife and boy went to visit relatives for a few days and I was getting 
cabin fever just sitting around all alone, so I decided to drop by for a 
drink. I'm glad I did, now," Herman said. 

"You mean yo mammy done lef you?" Emily said with a giggle. She was feeling 
no pain. 

Herman scowled and stiffened. He started to slide out of the booth. 

"Herman, don't go, I didn't mean anything, I was just joking. I'm sorry," 
Emily cried, grabbing his arm again. 

"You white girls think you can say anything you want to a black man, no 
matter how degrading. Well, you're wrong." He pulled his arm free and stood 
up. "All I can say is, fuck you, Whitey!" 

"Herman," Emily said softly, "that's what I wanted to talk to you about." 
She reached out with her soft white hand and caressed the front of his 
trousers. His cock felt nice and big, even soft. "I'm really sorry, it was 
the booze talking, not me. Please stay." 

Herman hesitated a moment and looked into her eyes. They were filled with 
tears. He slowly sat down. Emily continued to feel his crotch. His prick 
grew hard under her touch. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. They 
were thick, heavy lips, but tasted like heaven to Emily. 

Joanie jumped up from the booth. "For Christ's sake, Emily! Have you lost 
your mind?" she shouted. 

"You're making a scene, Joanie ... please shut your goddamn mouth." She 
stood up and took Joanie by the arm again. "Let's go to the girl's room, 
Joanie." 

Emily had to sit back down before she could get out of the booth. Before 
scooching out, she turned to Herman. "We'll be right back. Wait for me. . . 
please." She kissed him again, this time her tongue quickly bathed his lips. 

Inside the rest room, Joanie turned on Emily, her face red with anger. 
"Jesus Christ, Em, I'm sure that you've cracked up now." 

"Why?" Emily asked, fluffing at her hair. 

"Well, when you first said you wanted to get picked up, I thought you must 
be kidding. Not you, sweet, demure little Emily. But you weren't kidding, 
and you didn't even wait to get picked up ... you had to do the picking up 
yourself. And you had to pick up a nigger!" 

"Yes, isn't it exciting? He's marvelous," Emily gushed. 

Joanie couldn't believe her ears. She put her hands to the sides of her 
face. "God, God, what's happening?" she wailed. "Little Emily gets picked 
up, and she passes up a nice clean-cut young white guy for a coal black 
nigger. And if that isn't enough, you kiss the guy and feel his cock right 
in public, right where anyone that wants to look can see you." 

"Joanie, you should feel his cock, too. It's a real monster. I can just see 
the white goo running out and dripping down that long, black licorice 
stick." 

Joanie was speechless. Emily had flipped; she was stark raving mad, ready 
for the paddy wagon. She wondered if Ray could help her. She didn't know 
that he already had. 

"Haven't you ever wanted a colored man, Joanie?" Emily asked. "To feel his 
big, black shaft rammed up inside you?" 

"Emily! I'm married, for God's sake!" 

"That sure as hell wasn't stopping you with that big-chested stud at your 
house this afternoon." 

"What? What do you mean?" 

"I came right in when I came over this afternoon, and I didn't go back out 
and ring the bell until I watched him play with your ass while you humped up 
against him and begged him to suck your sweet little cunt." 

"I-I ... " Joanie stammered. 

"Tell me the truth, Joanie, haven't you ever wanted a black man to shove it 
to you?" 

"Well, I-I ... maybe..." 

"Level with me, Sis, I can see it written all over your face. Has a nigger 
ever fucked you before?" 

Joanie turned pale and leaned weakly against a lavatory. "Yes, once," she 
said softly. 

"Did you like it?" 

"I loved it, his cock was so big and hard." 

"Well, come on then. I think you need to make it twice, and I know I want it 
once. I've never had the pleasure before." 

"You mean both of us ... with just him?" 

"I'm sure he can locate a friend who'll be glad to service a nice blonde 
pussy like you." 

Emily slid into the booth beside Herman. He was delighted and a little 
surprised, having been positive that the two beautiful white cunts would 
never return. He had never been that lucky, not in his whole life, and ever 
since his son had told him of the beautiful den mother sucking him off, he 
had thought of nothing else. Emily snuggled close to him. "Herman, can you 
get a guy for my sister?" 

"Yeah, I think I can," he said, amazed at his good fortune. 

Emily put her mouth to Herman's ear. She rolled her tongue around inside 
before whispering, "See if you can get a big man. Joanie-likes big men ... 
and well hung." 

Herman slid out of the booth and went to a phone. "This is going to be fun, 
Joanie," Emily giggled. 

Joanie picked up her stale drink afid drained it, holding the glass with 
both hands. "God, but I needed that," she said. "I still can't believe it's 
true, but don't pinch me to see if I'm awake. I don't want to wake up if I'm 
dreaming, because you are fuckin' well right, it's going to be fun." 

Herman returned and sat down. "Everything's all fixed up. I called a good 
friend of mine. He's still at his office and won't be able to break free for 
about an hour, but hell meet us then." 

"A whole hour?" Joanie wailed. 

"Have patience, Joanie, all good things are worth waiting for," Emily said. 

Joanie had the hots now; she really wanted a big black cock. "Shit!" she 
snarled. 

Herman grinned, delighted with the change in the girl's attitude. "Shall we 
wait here, or go some place else?" 

"Where could we go?" Emily asked. 

"Well, not to my place. Nosey goddamn neighbors see everything that goes on. 
I do know a real first class motel where we won't have any trouble getting 
in." He looked slyly at the two broads. "My car's at home, though, since I 
walked over here." 

"My car's right outside, let's go to the motel," Emily said eagerly. 

"Howll your friend know where we are?" Joanie said, a look of panic crossing 
her face. 

"I'll call him from the motel," Herman said. "Let's go." 

They got out to Emily's little Mercedes. She took the keys from her bag and 
threw them to Joanie. "You drive, I can sit on Herman's lap." 

"There's a liquor store across the street, let me run over and get some 
booze," Herman said. 

He returned with a bottle of Scotch and a bottle of whiskey. He put them 
behind the seat and slid in. It was tight, but Emily fit herself snugly on 
his lap. 

They necked and French kissed all the way to the motel. Emily couldn't get 
her hand in position to feel his cock, but the spread cheeks of her ass got 
its full benefit. Herman fared better with his hand under her dress. He was 
inside her panties before they cleared the parking lot. Emily was all 
quivery and wet and his enormous finger quickly found a home inside her 
well-greased cunt. 

"Oh, darling, I want you to fuck me, I want it so badly," Emily mumbled into 
his mouth. 

"I'd do it right here, if I could, honey," Herman replied. 

"I wish you could, I wish you could, I wish you ... . " 

Herman got out at the motel and went in and made the necessary arrangements. 

The room was a huge one, with two double beds. It was definitely first 
cabin. 

Emily had Herman's cock out in the fresh air before the latch snapped shut 
on the door. She dropped to her knees and greedily sucked the black, shining 
monster into her mouth. Herman reared back and shoved his dick into her 
mouth. 

"Lord, Lord," he moaned, "the prayer of a lifetime is being answered." He 
gazed down at the lovely white woman sucking his black cock. He pretended it 
was the same cunt who had sucked his son's dick. 

"I can't wait for an hour," Joanie wailed, her snatch on fire. 

Emily dropped Herman's cock from her mouth and looked up at him. "Why don't 
you make us all a drink and then kiss Joanie a little to keep her happy. I 
have all night to suck you off." 

"I may hold you to that," Herman said, walking to the bathroom for glasses. 

He made a whiskey and water and two Scotch and waters, without ice. He 
handed one to Emily, who was still sitting on the floor. "Don't drink too 
much, honey, I want you to know what's going on when I fuck you," he said. 

Emily took the glass. "If I do, I'll stay until I sober up, I want to know 
what you're doing, too." She took a sip of the strong drink. "Now go and 
kiss my sister." 

He went to Joanie and handed her a glass. He clinked his against hers and 
said softly, "Here's to us, sweetheart." He took a sip and then kissed her. 

Joanie put her glass on the arm of her chair and wrapped both arms around 
his neck. As he kissed her, her hands slid from his neck down to the hem of 
her skirt. She lifted up the skirt and pushed down her panties. With her 
panties halfway down her thighs, she took his cock and put it between her 
milk-white legs. 

"Oh God, Herman, can you get it in like this? Can you fuck me standing up?" 
she hissed. 

"Not with your panties holding your legs closed," he said. 

Joanie pulled free and pushed her panties down to her ankles. She kicked 
them off her foot and wrapped her thighs around his cock. It was a big cock, 
long and thick, well over seven inches. With a little hunching and 
squirming, Joanie got the head started between the fat, hairy lips of her 
pussy. She ground her teeth together and groaned with pleasure. 

Emily decided that Joanie had had enough and tossed her empty glass to the 
floor. She got up and swayed across the room to the now fucking couple. 
Herman's cock was halfway in. She pulled them apart and pushed Joanie down 
into the chair. 

"You'll have to wait for any more, Sis," Emily said, swaying from side to 
side. She was pretty well looped by now. "Herman is my guy, and it's my 
turn." 

She turned to Herman and started pulling at his belt. "Let's get naked, 
honey, and fuck on the bed so Joanie can watch. I want her to see what she's 
missing." 

Herman led her to the bed and started stripping off her clothes. Her body 
was white, smooth, and wonderful to his eyes. He unsnapped her bra and her 
huge, cherry nippled tits popped free. She was wearing some of the new 
imagine undies she had purchased and put on at the store earlier, yet the 
panties were already badly stained when he jerked them down her legs. He 
pushed her back on the bed and went after his own clothing. 

Emily spread herself open and pulled his glistening ebony body down on top 
of her. She fingered his cock briefly before shoving it into her cunt. He 
put it in all the way and started fucking. Emily squealed and wrapped her 
legs over his back. 

"Oh, Hermie, you're cock's so big," she cried, feeling every hard black inch 
of it inside her. "And it feels so good. Don't be too gentle, darling, I 
like my studs a little rough and wild." 

Herman responded with hard slamming cock thrusts. God, how could a woman's 
cunt her age be so tight? She must have had a hundred cocks in there; it 
coiled around him like a clenched fist. He couldn't last long with his big 
cock in there; he knew that. 

"I love to fuck, I really, really do," Emily moaned, more to herself than to 
Herman. 

"Yeah, lady, I can tell," Herman gasped, his black ass bobbing in the air. 
"What would your husband do if he saw this black man fucking the shit out of 
his wife?" 

"He'd ... oh Jesus, Hermie, I'm going to cum! Oooh, that's so good ... I'm 
cumming, hard! " Emily gurgled. "And, and ... oooh, he'd shoot you right 
between your brown eyes with his thirty-eight." 

"That did it!" Herman yelped, "and I'm gonna get even with him by shooting 
his beautiful wife right between her fat thighs with mine. I'm cumming, 
baby, I'm cumming!" 

Herman let himself go and spurted his cum inside her cunt. Emily felt the 
wet heat, prolonging her lingering orgasm. It was good, and she knew that 
she could take any cock that existed. 

Joannie couldn't stand it; just watching while someone else got fucked, 
especially her sister, was too much. With a whine she shoved her hand into 
her desperate muff and started to masturbate. She was like this when Virgil 
walked in the door. 

"Man, what have we here?" Virgil said, slamming the door. 

Virgil was a big, heavily muscled man. His skin was much lighter in color 
than Herman's. He sported a bushy, black mustache. His eyes bugged out as 
the tremendous-looking blonde continued to jack herself off. 

Herman had rolled off Emily, who lay stretched out beside him. "Hi, Virg 
baby. This hot lay beside me is Emily, and the blonde cunt playing stink 
finger is her sister, Joanie. Girls, this is Virgil, the original Harlem 
cocksman." 

Joanie looked at the big black man with glazed eyes. "Fuck me, Virgil," she 
moaned. 

"Beautiful greeting, baby, beautiful," Virgil said, opening his pants. 

Emily sat up. His cock was immense; if it was any smaller than Mack's, it 
was hardly noticeable, only it was black, coal black. The head was purple 
and it was huge. 

Virgil walked over and picked up Joanie like she was a rag doll. "Let's you 
and me go over on the bed where there's more room, blondeie." 

"Yes, let's," Joanie murmured, throwing her arms around his neck and 
pressing her lips to his half open mouth. 

They held the kiss while he walked across the room to the vacant bed. His 
long cock seemed to wave at Emily as they went by. With the tips of her 
fingers, Emily waved back. The drool was thick in her mouth. 

He finished undressing her and then dispensed with his own clothing. His 
body looked sleek and as hard as rock. He stroked his pecker and looked down 
at the slender blonde spread-eagled in front of him. 

Joanie reached up and pulled him down. "Fuck me, big man," she begged, 
sliding his prong between her thighs. 

Virgil fucked her. 

Herman and Emily lay on the other bed watching. "You know, Emily, I didn't 
tell you about my boy, did I?" 

"No, you didn't," Emily answered, not taking her eyes from the rutting 
couple. Joanie was really getting laid. 

"He's in the cub scouts." 

Emily sat bolt upright. "Really," she said. 

"And you won't believe this, but that scout mother took him into the toilet 
and sucked his cock." 

Emily closed her eyes and saw little Herman's cock cumming into her mouth. 
She opened them and looked down at big Herman's charger, laying loosely 
against his thigh. 

"I believe it, Herman, I believe it," she gasped and closed her spit-filled 
mouth over his sticky, limp pecker. It quickly grew less limp. 

"God, Emily, suck me all the way," Herman gasped, thrusting his crotch up 
against her. 

Emily bobbed her head in the affirmative and concentrated on the dark glans 
swelling in her mouth. She took the rest of it in her hand and jacked him 
off. 

Virgil howled as his nuts loosed their load. Joanie screamed as her orgasm 
hit home. Herman whined and felt his second blast spew into her mouth. 

Emily closed her eyes and swallowed his sticky spunk. 

Herman was flat on his back, so Virgil got up and poured some booze into 
glasses. He strutted around the room with his prick sticking straight out 
from his belly. It was hard as a rock again and proud of it. Emily felt 
drunk again and near passing out, but she knew she had to have that enormous 
sticker inside her snatch. It was the final test. 

Joanie came to her senses and jumped off the bed. "My God, what time is it 
getting to be?" 

Herman looked lazily at his watch. '"Bout seven thirty," he said. 

"Jesus Christ," Joanie wailed, "I've got to beat Ray home and it'll take 
almost an hour to get there." 

"Keep your pants on, or off I should say," Emily said with a snicker. "Ray 
won't be home for hours." 

"How the hell would you know?" Joanie spat, pulling on her clothes. 

Emily decided not to say. Instead, she thought, Because, Joanie dear, when 
Miss Jenson's fianc' is out of town, she-likes her dates to stay late. And 
III bet my ass Miss Jenson's fianc' is out of town. 

"How'll I get home? Can I take your car, Em?" she wailed. 

"I'll give you a lift, my car's right outside," Virgil said, grabbing his 
pants. Virgil figured he could knock her off one more time in the car, or 
maybe get a nice white blow-job. 

Emily got up from the bed, her head reeling. "Virgil, I don't want you to 
go." 

"Somebody's gotta take the lady home," he said, noticing Emily's ponderous 
white tits for the first time. He liked big white boobs, and Joanie was a 
little shy in that department. 

"Will you come right back?" she asked, grabbing at his swinging pecker. 

"If you'll be here when I get back." 

"I'll wait forever." She was stroking his big black cock with long, slow 
pulls. It felt like it was made of steel. 

Virgil pulled up his trousers. "You can have all of that you want when I get 
back," he said. 

Emily turned to Joanie. "If Mack should call your house, and he will if he's 
around home long enough to notice I'm gone, tell him I'm there and I'll see 
him Monday." 

"What if he wants to talk to you?" 

"Tell him I'm asleep and you don't want to wake me. He'll buy that. 
Actually, I'll be right here in this little ole motel room with two gorgeous 
pricks ... until Monday morning." 

As soon as Virgil and Joanie left, Emily flopped face down on the bed and 
passed out. Herman patted her smooth, round ass and went to sleep. 

Emily was roused from her stupor by a heavy weight on her back and a pain in 
her ass. She tried to rise, but couldn't move. "What the hell is going on?" 
she cried. 

"It's me, Herman. I'm trying another one of your holes to see if it's as 
tight as the other one. It's tighter." 

"OUCH! That hurts," Emily snorted, trying again to get free. 

"It won't hurt long, baby," Herman said pushing his big hard cock deeper 
into her ass-hole. 

Emily didn't agree. "It still hurts, you sonofabitch. Pull it out. I didn't 
bargain for any buggering." 

"You bargained for whatever I decide to give you, whitey, and right now I 
decided I want my cock in your bunghole." 

Emily knew she was at his mercy, lying flat on her stomach like she was. 
"Then put some spit or something on it, it's too damn dry. It hurts, 
Herman." 

Herman decided she was right. He drew his cock part way out and dabbed some 
spit around his shaft. He repeated the action until her ass-hole was good 
and wet. 

It started to feel good. She closed her eyes and let the swells of new 
excitement fill her loins. "That's better," she moaned. 

Emily came within minutes. She raised her ass a little, trying to get more 
of his black prick inside. It was good like this-God, she was cumming again 
already-new ways always made her cum quick and hard. Emily decided she liked 
new ways, different men, new cocks. All men were different, each new cock 
was somehow not like any other she had tried; it would surely be boring, 
deathly dull to fuck with the same man all the time. Emily knew she would 
never again be content to lay with one guy. She was already tired of Herman; 
she wanted to try Virgil, Virgil with the massive nine-inch missile. She 
felt Herman splat his juice into her ass. 

"Where's Virgil?" she asked. 

Herman milked his shit-streaked cock out, rolled off of her and looked 
pained. "He hasn't come back yet." 

"What time is it?" 

"It's two a.m., " he said, holding his arm up where he could see his watch. 
"Lord, I need some sleep." He closed his eyes. 

"Shit, I'll bet he's not coming back." She rolled out of bed and lit a 
cigarette. 

The cigarette was less than half gone when she heard a car door slam. A 
second later Virgil walked through the door, a wide grin on his face. 

"I was afraid you weren't coming back," Emily said. 

"This cat said he'd be back, and here I am." 

"Where have you been all this time?" 

"With that horny sister of yours." He walked across the room and lifted her 
up, his lips finding hers. 

Virgil pushed her back on the bed and took off his clothes. He straddled her 
naked body. Her cunt swallowed him up, every last inch of nine fat black 
ones. Herman lay beside them sleeping. 

"Do you want me to tell you about me and your sis while I fuck you slow and 
easy like?" Virgil asked. 

"Yes," Emily answered, "only don't stop fucking ... ever." 

"Before we were halfway to her house, she had my dong out and by the time we 
got there I was really hot to trot. I parks right in front of her house and 
walks her up to the door. We neck for a while and, with her skirt up over 
her ass, she says, 'Let me slip in and see if Ray's home yet.' Well, he 
ain't, and she invites me in. 

"Boy she is really ready to go and takes me right up to her bedroom. She 
says she's sure glad her goddamn kids is at their granmaw's and strips down 
to bare skin. Hell, lady, what's a man to do? Here's this blonde broad bare 
ass naked, twitching her cunt around, begging to get laid, and in her own 
bedroom." Virgil shrugged his shoulders. "I fucks her, that's what, and 
fucks her good." 

Emily barely heard what he was saying. She was rocking in time with the big, 
black piece of meat buried in her cunt. It was surely the best fuck of her 
life. 

Virgil continued. "I no more than shoots my wad in her belly than her 
goddamn old man comes home. I hear the front door open and leap out of bed 
and grab for my pants. She gets up and says to stay right where I am. She 
goes out and I can hear his voice right outside the door and I'm scared 
shitless." 

"Why? You're twice as big as him ... go a little faster, honey," Emily said. 

"Why? Lady, where a jealous husband is concerned, I don't care how little he 
is, I'm scared shitless," Virgil snorted, and increased his fucking tempo. 
Emily came hard. "I peek out a crack in the door to see if I should make a 
run for it and what do I see? She has him down on the floor on his knees and 
is pulling his head up to her hairy crack. And you know what she says? She 
lifts her head up and says, 'Suck it, Ray. I want you to suck all of that 
black mother-fucker's cum out of my pussy.' An that poor bastard is so drunk 
he don't even know what she's sayin'. " 

Virgil giggled and rammed his black dick in harder. "That dumb bastard just 
squats down there and does what she tells him, namely sucks out all that 
black mother-fucker's cum from her pussy. When that little ole blonde gal 
cums, she cums so hard she topples right on top of her husband. While 
they're all in a heap on the floor, I get my ass out of there." 

"Stop talking and just fuck," Emily said, "Oh, God, I've already cum twice." 

"I'm getting close myself," Virgil shouted. 

"Go hard, go hard, I think I can make it again!" 

They came together, clutching and jerking in an effort to make it last. When 
Virgil dropped off to sleep, his cock was still inside her. Emily dreamed of 
sugarplums, all of them shaped like hard, black, glistening cockheads. 

They awoke late the next morning and started drinking again. Virgil banged 
Emily in the shower while Herman called out for something to eat. When the 
young man pushed the cart of food into the room, Herman was giving it to her 
on the rumpled bed. Before they would let the boy go they had Emily suck him 
off. He hadn't cum in weeks and gave her a load to remember. 

They all got roaring drunk and screwed the rest of the day away. It was 
after eleven that night, when Emily finally put on her dress and staggered 
out the door, leaving her shoes and underwear behind. 

The young man from the cafe was waiting in the shadows. She let him take her 
on the little patch of grass in front of the room. His cock wasn't big like 
Virgil's, but it was a new one; new to her cunt, at least. 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

Emily didn't awaken until noon the next day. She was in her own bed, even 
though she didn't remember getting there. She vaguely remembered smashing 
the front fender on her Mercedes when she pulled into the garage, but that 
was all. 

Unknown to her, Mack had come in after she, and slept in the den. He didn't 
want to disturb her. Even if he'd known she would let him have her, it 
wouldn't have mattered, he'd already had his ashes hauled by Angie's new 
math teacher. Angie was having trouble with her math and had invited the 
teacher over for a little extra instruction. Mack drove the teacher home, 
and since her husband wasn't back from church fellowship, he fucked her in 
the front seat of his Caddie. They were parked in the woman's driveway. Mack 
had no more than rounded the corner on his way home before the teacher's 
hubby pulled in and stopped on the spot where his wife had just gotten 
fucked. 

Emily sat up in pain, and in spite of the throbbing ache in her head and the 
acrid taste in her mouth and the sour stomach and the raw, gnawing feeling 
in her pussy, she knew she was ready for Mack. His cock couldn't be much 
bigger than Virgil's; she hoped it was, but knew it wasn't. 

After a hot, soaking bath and black coffee and tomato juice, she felt much 
better-oh yes, and a tall Scotch and water, light on the water. 

She fussed over her face before the mirror, powdered and perfumed her whole 
body, and got dressed. She decided on basics: a short, full skirt, a tight, 
sleeveless blouse with buttons down the back, and a pair of heels. No pants 
or bra or hose, nothing else. Well, maybe a small pair of earrings and a 
dainty necklace. 

She tooled out of the driveway in her Mercedes and headed for the bank, the 
right front fender scraping on the tire all the way. "Gotta get this goddamn 
heap looked at, it sure makes a hell of a lot of noise for a 
ten-thousand-dollar car," she muttered. She stopped at a bar and grill and 
had a light lunch and three vodka martinis before venturing on to the bank. 
She saw at least three guys who interested her, but decided she must not be 
deterred from her mission-this was Fuck Mack Day. Besides, the four guys 
were obviously drooling for her and would wait until another day. The one 
who got a good look at her hairy snatch when she slid out of the booth 
fuckin' near dropped his teeth. Somehow she had foolishly forgotten her 
purse in the booth. Oh, well, one of the men would surely be sweet and 
return it to her; her address was right inside. 

When she got to the bank she was terribly disappointed to find that Mack had 
just gone out for coffee, no one knew where. Fortunately, she was rescued by 
Jeff Dunn. He proudly took her into his office; all junior vice-presidents 
had their own office at Mack's bank. Emily snickered and felt superior, 
wondering how many more times Mack had banged Jeff's young wife, May, since 
the night of their wild party. 

"Gosh, it's sure nice to see you. I haven't had the chance to thank you for 
the grand party, and that was weeks ago. I sure got drunk, hope I didn't 
make a fool of myself." 

"You were a perfect gentleman, Jeff." 

"I'll bet," he said with a grin. "Have a chair, Mrs. Foster." 

"Call me Emily," Emily said, sitting where she was sure he could see her 
unsheathed legs. 

"I'm sure sorry that Mack, uh, Mr. Foster isn't here." 

"I'm not," Emily answered, crossing one leg carefully over the other, 
exposing considerable thigh. 

Jeff blushed, hard pressed to keep his eyes off her legs. "Hey, have you 
heard the latest gossip? Well, not really gossip, I guess it's true. The 
Devonshire's adopted a tiny baby. Seems kind of strange at their age." ' 

"It doesn't seem strange to me," Emily said knowingly. "Have you seen the 
baby, by any chance?" 

"Yeah, they were in with it yesterday." "Is it. . . all right? I mean not 
deformed or anything." 

"Nah, it's perfectly formed. No one would adopt a baby like that," Jeff 
said. He scratched his head, his eyes darting to Emily's exposed thighs. 
"But it's sure ugly. Ugliest baby I ever saw." 

I knew it, Emily thought, if is Hunchy's and Rhonda's baby. "Is Rhonda back 
from Europe?" Emily asked. 

"She sure is. Came back the day they got the baby. She was in with them. 
Wow, is she ever a lush young chick." 

"Yes, she really is," Emily said, slowly uncrossing her legs. If he didn't 
know that she wasn't wearing pants now, he was blind. The knobs on the ends 
of her tits were hard now and clearly marked in her sweater, too. "Do you 
have a cigarette, Jeff honey?" 

"Sure," he said, grabbing a metal box from his desk and starting to rise. 

"Don't get up, I'll come and get it." 

When she got up from the low chair, her skirt flipped up to her crotch for 
just an instant. She went to his desk and leaned across the corner. He lit 
two smokes and put one between her lips. 

"Thank you, Jeff. You're terribly handsome, I think I'd like it if you 
kissed me." 

Jeff swallowed hard and leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. 
It must have been seconds before she was on his lap, her lips glued to his. 
Their tongues went wild; his hand somehow found the furry patch under her 
skirt. Actually, it wasn't under her skirt since her skirt was well above 
her hips. 

"Play with me, Jeff, feel my cunt," she moaned into his mouth. 

Emily's mind was reeling with desire. She wanted to be good and hot for her 
husband when he came back. She wouldn't let Jeff fuck her-today-just get her 
good and ready for Mack's big pecker. She could always have the junior 
vice-president later, maybe even later today. 

She pulled her blouse from her skirt and lifted it up above the bulging 
mounds on her chest. The nipples were erect and fiery red. "Kiss my nipples, 
Jeff. That always makes me so hot," she moaned. 

"God, Mrs-Emily, your tits are beautiful," he gasped, sucking a huge nipple 
between his lips. 

Emily was gasping for air. She wanted to get fucked in the worst way, but 
she didn't want to dull it any for when Mack returned. 

"I want you so bad, Jeff," she cried, pulling her tit from his mouth and 
sliding from his lap. 

On the floor at his feet, she fumbled with the zipper in his pants. She 
palmed his cock in her hand and looked up at him, her huge blue eyes 
sparkling. "I'm going to suck you off, darling, and let you cum in my 
mouth," she said huskily. "You like to get sucked off, don't you Jeff?" 

He nodded dumbly, his cock throbbing in her hand. 

"I knew you liked getting sucked off, I saw Marion Connely suck your cock at 
our party. Oh, don't look so startled, it was a wild party, and besides, 
that's probably what Marion Connely does the best. I'll bet she can't do it 
as good as I can, though." , With that, she sucked his cock into her mouth. 
Her fingers worked at the shaft, her lips worked at the ridge at the bottom 
of the knob, and her tongue concentrated on the gaping hole seeping clear 
nectar. 

Just as Jeff's stringy calcimine filled her mouth, the buzzer on his 
intercom went off. More reflex than anything else, he popped open the 
switch. 

"Mr. Foster has returned," came the squeaky voice, "Would you notify Mrs. 
Foster, please. He's in his office." 

Jeff groaned and flipped the switch to off. Emily drew his hairy nuts dry. 
Her cunt twitched wildly as his slick cum slid down her throat. She was more 
than ready. 

She stood up and straightened her clothes. With a sweet smile she looked at 
Jeff and said, "We really must get together for cocktails some evening when 
you get off work. Call me ... soon." She blew him a kiss and was gone. 

"This is a pleasant surprise," Mack said when she entered his office. He got 
up and came to meet her. 

Emily threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. 

"Wow, you haven't kissed me like that in a long time," he said. 

"Too long," Emily answered. "Get me a drink, Mack. Would you please?" She 
wanted to wash away all traces of Jeff before she consumated her marriage. 

Mack went to the small bar in the corner and poured some Scotch into a 
glass. Emily came up behind him and pressed herself into his backside. 

Mack twisted free and handed her the drink. "To what do I owe this pleasant 
visit?" he asked. 

Emily took a long pull on her drink before answering. "I want you, Mack." 

"What do you mean, Em?" 

"I want you to fuck me, right here in your office." 

"We've been all through that. I won't let you disappoint me again. In other 
words, no soap." 

"I won't disappoint you, darling, I promise," she said, and dropped to her 
knees. "What kind of panties are you wearing today?" 

Mack's mouth dropped open. 

"It's all right, I know all about them. I saw them in your drawer, and I 
must say you have a fine porno collection." 

Emily had his pants open and was drawing them down his legs. He was wearing 
a pair of mint-green bikini panties. His dick was still soft. She put her 
mouth to the silk and sucked at the head of his cock. It started to harden. 

"I'd suck you off through the panties, but I want you to cum somewhere else. 
I want you to fuck me." 

"If you're putting me on again...." Mack growled, pushing the panties down. 

"I'm not, I promise." 

She grabbed the back of her blouse and ripped it open, the buttons popping 
in every direction. She dropped the blouse to the floor and peeled off her 
skirt and sunk down on the thick carpet. Her legs swept open and her arms 
reached out. 

"Em," he groaned, "I've waited for this for such a long time." He dropped to 
his knees between her legs, his pants still bunched around his ankles. 

As he came down to her, she reached under his belly and fitted his enormous 
cock to her waiting cunt. She was sopping wet and took his dick in with 
ease. 

"God, your cock is huge!" she cried. But it's a toy next to the hunchback's, 
she thought. 

"Oooh, fuck me, lover, fuck me!" "Do you really like it, Em?" 

"Must you ask?" Emily retorted, thrusting herself up to meet him. 

It was a complete rip-off. Emily had gone the whole route just to be able to 
accommodate her husband, and as she lay beneath his sweating body, grunting 
with pleasure, she realized she was still practicing-practicing for the 
grotesque dwarf with the twelve-inch cock. She wondered how much better it 
was going to feel. 

"Hunch it to me, honey," she moaned, "hunch it to me, I'm cumming!" 

"Oh, Jesus, Em, I love you," Mack cried, his cock spitting her full of 
liquid fife. 

"I love you, too," she said softly. 

As Mack pressed his mouth to hers, Emily wondered if she should call Ruth 
Devonshire for another riding date this afternoon or wait until in the 
morning. 

Emily knew she couldn't wait until in the morning. 


THE END
