SE-224  Bicycle Built For Four
(Arnold Sinatra)


FOREWORD 

Many years ago, a popular radio program opened with a sepulchral voice 
asking, "Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men . . . The Shadow 
knows!" 

The question, in today's flexible society, could well be paraphrased and 
presented as, "Who knows what desires lurk in the breast of woman?" 

And the answer is nobody, including the woman herself until the barriers 
have been broken. Often perfectly natural needs are repressed for years by 
lectures drilled into the young in their formative years. It is a fact that 
many young women marry today with the firmly instilled belief that sex is 
dirty, something to be endured only in the dark, and prayed about later. 

Yet, sometimes the pool of torment is tapped, the pressure released as an 
abscess is disposed of with the extraction of a diseased tooth. When that 
happens, the once constricted woman is likely to break all her chains and 
become a vibrant creature, seeking new delights, new carnal knowledge. A 
parallel could be drawn between such women and the fallen-away clergyman who 
seeks the depths of debauchery, or the reformed alcoholic who can't stand to 
see another man take a drink. 

Wife swapping has been written about ad nauseam, usually in scandalous 
fashion which takes no note of the possible benefits of this illicit but 
nonetheless widespread practice. Certainly it has broken marriages . . . but 
in seemingly many cases it had healed those which were on the brink of 
disaster. 

In this compelling novel, Arnold Sinatra tells the story of Beth Lansing, a 
repressed girl from a small town in Oregon who marries a handsome, swinging 
go-getter. 

Beth cannot adjust to his sexual wishes, and this preys upon her mind until 
banker Jack Kimble and his blonde-haired, sexually emancipated wife appear 
on the scene. 

From an innocuous beginning in which the Lansings are led to join a bike 
club, events snowball. Gradually, the tall, dark-haired, innocent, Beth, was 
led into the paths of debauchery and sensual pleasure. Though she struggles 
to maintain her former moral attitudes, they are eroded by her own stifled 
sexuality asserting itself, until a series of encounters, highlighted by her 
introduction to oral sex and lesbianism, free her from her bonds and make 
her take a good look at what she has been and what she would likely be. 

Her struggle to find her true identity is a classic, one of the best 
narratives Arnold Sinatra has produced to date. 

In part it is a shocker, and it is not recommended for those who might be 
offended by deviations from what they envision as the Middle America norm. 
Yet for readers of vision, we recommend it without reservation, and hope 
that it will perhaps aid the man or woman with sexual conflicts to better 
understand and cope with them. 

-The Publishers 


CHAPTER ONE 

Beth Lansing gritted her teeth in mild frustration as she pushed the 
motorless lawn mower to and fro over the rear lawn of the ranch-type house 
in the California foothills which she and her young husband Harry had gone 
deeply into hock for the year before, shortly after their marriage. The 
cause of the teeth gritting was not the lawn itself, which seemed to spring 
up overnight with the enthusiasm of a field of weeds, but Harry himself. 
Harry was comfortably stretched out in his old Navy hammock slung between 
two spreading shade trees reading a paperback mystery and occasionally 
sipping from a can of cold beer which rested on an upturned wine keg beside 
the hammock. 

It was hot work, and a sheen of sweat coated the young brunette's 
sun-goddess body. Beth wore an old, thin shirt, unbuttoned down the front 
and knotted high under her wide set, firm breasts which jiggled voluptuously 
with each stride of her long, beautifully tapered legs. She wore hip-hugger 
blue jean short-shorts which once had been flare slacks until they had faded 
and shrunk by so many washings that now they were fit for only wearing in 
the privacy of the hedge-bordered rear yard. Puffing slightly, she wiped 
away the trickles of sweat which were running from her forehead into her 
deep, dark eyes, abandoned the torture machine for a moment and sought the 
shade of the pepper trees. She grabbed her husband's can of ice-cold beer 
and guzzled, making her smooth belly muscles ripple, accentuating the 
tininess of her supple waist. Her torso flowed upward into the rich 
prominent swell of her breasts, and downward into the alluring flare of 
curvaceous hip and heart-shaped buttocks. The old shirt she wore was dark 
with perspiration. 

"You," she said accusingly and only half-joking, "are getting a spare tire, 
my love," digging him in the belly with a probing finger. "The Major Hoople 
of Indian Springs." 

"This is my own way of relaxing after a week of pushing homes with wheels," 
the handsome young man said with a grin, reaching to stroke the velvet 
softness of her inner thighs, making Beth tremble. "Lying here and watching 
you scissor by on those fine legs, with your titties bouncing." 

"Aaaaaggghhh!" Beth snorted and went back to the lawn mower after draining 
the beer and putting down the can. 

"Hey!" her husband protested. "You drank it all!" 

"You know where there's plenty more," Beth called back as she took up her 
menial task and fresh-cut green shards of grass sprayed over her striding 
legs. "Maybe I like to watch your spare tire rock and roll." 

Chuckling, Harry Lansing swung out of the hammock and went in search of 
another beer, and while he was about it made a salami-and-cheese sandwich on 
rye. Through the window he watched his wife pushing the mower and thought, 
Jeez, she's beautiful. But why does she have to be so fucking cold? No, not 
cold -that's not the word. 

Square! 

Harry Lansing was undoubtedly a good looking young man. He was tall, a 
fraction of an inch over six feet. His features were lean, with high, 
well-defined cheekbones. He had a wide mouth which smiled easily to show 
even white teeth. His hair was straight, just long enough to cover his shirt 
collar. Despite what Beth claimed, he was not, in his opinion, getting fat. 
Sure, he could lose five pounds, and if his job didn't keep him glued to a 
chair a good part of the time, it would be gone in a week. His chest muscles 
were hard, rippling against his tanned skin when he moved, and his pelvis 
was narrow, so he would always seem more slender than most of his friends, 
even if he wasn't. 

"Hey! I've already sweated out that tiny -mouthful of beer. C'mon back with 
another," his dark-tressed wife called as she passed by the open kitchen 
window, the blades of the mower clattering softly against the cutter bar. 
Beth thought they must be the only family in the state who owned a lawn 
mower without a motor she had been surprised to find the thing in the garage 
when they'd bought the house. After some discussion, she and Harry had 
agreed to keep it. Neither could stand the blatting of power mowers. But at 
the time, Beth had been under the impression that her husband was going to 
push it, but she was soon set straight. On her next pass, a long muscular 
arm with a beer can at the end popped out of the window, and she grabbed the 
frigid brew without breaking stride. 

In reality she didn't mind being a one-girl power motor. She found the 
exercise kept her lithe body toned up and gave her a certain inner release 
which let her thoughtfully consider the problems of her marriage, which was 
less than two years old. The dark-eyed beauty with the wide, sensuous lips 
knew thousands of girls would give anything to be in her shoes. 

A handsome husband who had a good job, even if the hours were long. A start 
on a home of their own in one of the most spectacularly beautiful areas of 
the northern part of the state. A growing bank account. A big new luxury 
station wagon for Harry he needed it to take clients around and a Beetle 
convertible for her. No screaming kids underfoot. 

The sex aspect was the only hitch. Harry wanted her to do strange things. 
Well, maybe not strange to others. Beth was well aware that oral sex, 
sucking a man's penis or having him put his tongue down there, was done by 
lots of other couples, married and otherwise. She sometimes had the 
impression, when chattering girl-talk with her friends, that she was the odd 
one, the holdout. Well, so be it! It was still unnatural to her, and Beth 
Lansing, marslimallow-soft on the outside, was carbon steel beneath her 
smooth exterior. If Harry really wanted that sort of thing, he would 
undoubtedly be able to get it from some of the sexy young housewives who 
came to his sales office. Beth just hoped that if it happened, she never 
found out, because it would hurt terribly. That was one thing she didn't 
like about his job . . . the way he was exposed to other females so much, 
but it couldn't be helped. And, she told herself as she paused in the shade 
to drink deeply from the ice-cold can, there are always things a wife can 
find to detest about her husband's work. His hours, the way he's covered 
with grease when he comes home, the way it interferes with what she wants to 
do, or keeps them in an unpleasant city . . . hundreds of things. 

Here Beth counted herself lucky, for Harry Lansing was sales manager of the 
largest mobile-home and travel-trailer dealership in Indian Springs, with 
four salesmen working for him. Some of the luxury models, with every 
conceivable appliance, deep carpeting, fireplaces, color TV, beamed 
ceilings, genuine teak panels and such, could cost as much as fifty thousand 
dollars, set up on the owner's site. Such sales were rarities, perhaps only 
two a year, but the commission was fabulous. 

Yet, as the costs of standard homes was skyrocketing, it was not unusual for 
buyers to select models in the twenty-to-thirty-thousand-dollar range, 
finding the value for their dollar was much greater than they'd get in a 
cracker box tract house. These were by no means trailers. They ordinarily 
moved only once, from the sales lot or factory direct to the site, where the 
wheels were pulled off and they rested on blocks, were skirted, landscaped 
and soon took on the look of permanent homes. 

There was a growing market for travel trailers, to be towed by cars or 
pickup trucks, and boats. Even lightweight motorcycles were on the lot. 

Yes, the sweating young housewife told herself, she had nothing to complain 
about . . . 

* * * 

The neighboring house to the south, set on a spacious tree-shaded three 
acres of carefully landscaped ground, dwarfed the Lansing place in both size 
and price, although Harry and Beth's home would easily have brought 
fifty-thousand dollars if they chose to sell. 

The neighbors were Jack and Marcia Kimble, and their house was a 
pseudo-rustic split-level. It had an immense living room with natural stone 
fireplace, massive beamed ceilings, a formal dining room, six bedrooms, 
rumpus room, den, a four-car garage which was home to three automobiles, a 
twenty-four foot inboard-outboard cabin cruiser and two touring bicycles. 
Protected from the sun by spreading oak trees in the rear was a swimming 
pool, and there was also a putting green. The Kimbles, although young, were 
by far the best off financially of all the families in this exclusive 
section of Indian Springs. And it was directly because of Jack Kimble that 
Harry and Beth Lansing occupied their present comfortable home, which 
otherwise would have been far beyond their means. 

Jack Kimble was the lending officer fo; the bank with which Harry Lansing 
did business, financing his customers' purchases. He was a go-getter and had 
early recognized the potential in mobile-home and travel-trailer sales in 
this area. Standard housing was in short supply, and mortgage money was 
tight. The realtors had to scrounge for buyers with enough cash for a 
downstroke and often second and third mortgages were involved, which was 
always bad news. 

But Harry Lansing was dealing in brand new merchandise and also backed up by 
factory help in financing if needed, but that usually wasn't the case. Bank 
lending rates were virtually all the same. Kimble was surprised if he saw 
any one realtor about a loan more than twice a month. Yet Harry could be 
counted on to come in with a broad grin and drop a conditional sales 
contract for twenty thousand or more on his desk at least twice a week, and 
once he'd turned four deals in one day. 

And it was nice not having to deal with mortgages. If one went sour, 
foreclosure took at least a year. With a conditional sales contract, the 
bank could take the merchandise back in two months, and no arguments. 

There was also another angle. A spin-off company owned by the bank was 
developing-a luxury mobile-home park, a beautiful place that looked mOre 
like a country club, with swimming pools, tennis, a recreation hall and even 
its own shopping center. If the mobile-home buyer didn't already have a 
site, Harry turned real estate salesman and, if he sold a plot, drew a 
commission from the bank. 

In view of this mutually profitable arrangement, Jack Kimble had quietly 
seen to it that Harry and Beth Lansing got not only all the financing they 
needed, but at the lowest possible interest. 

Now, on their six-hundred-dollar German ten speed bikes, the Kimbles swung 
into the driveway to their house and, sighing from the exertion of a day's 
pedaling through the winding foothill roads with the club to which they 
belonged, wiped sweat from their brows. 

They wore identical outfits white short-sleeved shirts, white cardigans 
bordered in red over their shoulders, the arms knotted in front, white 
shorts, calf-high cotton stockings and ankle-high biking shoes the standard 
uniform of the two-wheel cult. 

Marcia was a tall, voluptuous blonde with gray eyes and a fine-featured face 
dominated by her sensuous mouth. Her full breasts rose and fell, the nipples 
making lewd little bumps in her blouse. She wore no brassiere and didn't 
need one. Her waist was tiny and her belly flat from her exercise, her hips 
richly curved and long, without an ounce of fat anywhere on their sleek 
length. The tight white shorts molded her pubic mound so well that they 
clearly outlined the soft lips of her pussy. Now the seamed crotch band was 
damp as her cuntal 'Vee" yielded its sweet vaginal juices. One of the things 
she loved about riding was that just straddling the narrow saddle and 
pumping with her smooth legs made her cum! Cum so hard it hurt, made her so 
tender that, even as much as she loved cock, she couldn't bear to let Jack 
touch her, at least not until she'd had a long soak in a cool tub. She was 
much younger than her husband, just past her twenty-sixth birthday. 

Jack Kimble was a stocky bull of a man, with coal-black hair and squared-off 
features. His black eyes burned through women. He seemed to be all muscle, 
and could easily have been mistaken for a professional wrestler or a 
football player. Unlike most chunky men, he moved with the grace of a cat 
and his voice was surprisingly soft and melodic. He looked nothing like a 
banker is expected to look. Nor, when circumstances permitted, did he act 
anything like a banker is supposed to act. Jack was a complete hedonist. He 
had taken great pleasure in spending a full three years teaching his young 
wife every nuance of sex until now the once demure Marcia was ready for 
anything, anyplace, anytime. 

"You wear your balls?" Jack asked his young wife, grinning lewdly. 

"Wouldn't be without them on a ride you know that!" 

Jack chuckled. The previous Christmas he had given Marcia, in addition to a 
Porsche roadster, the Oriental device which consists of two steel balls 
encased in a fluid-filled cylinder. When inserted deep in the vagina so it 
touches the mouth of the cervix, any movement of the woman agitates the 
balls and they rap her captive cuntal passage like tiny hammers. 

With ideas of spending the rest of the afternoon in bed, Jack slapped the 
taut roundness of his wife's heart-shaped buttocks, jamming a finger into 
the crease of her smooth ass-cheeks. They put the bikes away and went into 
the house, going immediately to the huge bathroom on the second floor 
adjoining their exotic bedroom, the decor of which was, as close as they 
could make it, the duplicate of a boudoir in a Gay Nineties' whorehouse. 

Quickly they stripped off their biking outfits and jumped into the oversized 
shower together. Jack lathered Marcia's wide-set, thrusting breasts with 
scented soap, rolling their warm softness in his strong hands, tweaking the 
nipples as she ground her perfect buttocks back against his hardening cock 
and caught it between her clenching thighs. His hands slid down the 
smoothness of her belly and his fingers delved in the soft curly pale hairs 
that fringed her fleshy cuntal slit and sought the aroused nub of her 
clitoris. 

"Oooooohhhh!" she moaned in gathering lust as she gyrated her soap-slick 
buttocks. She smiled a woman's smile. It was so damn good to have a man who 
wanted to fuck you every time he saw you and could do the job! God! After 
nearly five years, every time Jack's cock rammed far up into the depths of 
her seething pussy Marcia almost went wild, thrashing and screaming and 
locking her legs tight around his broad back and really trying to devour his 
plundering rod with her soft cuntal mouth. "Oooooooohhhhh, Jack! Not yet . . 
. you know how tender I am after a ride." 

"Later then," he said with a lewd grin. 

"You'd better." 

Then it was her turn to wash him, and she did it slowly and teasingly, 
playing with his penis until it was rock-hard in her lewdly stroking 
fingers. She loved the way the bulbous reddish-purple head appeared and 
disappeared as she rolled the fleshy foreskin, and she loved the weight of 
his hot, semen-filled balls. 

"Better quit or there won't be any left for later," he warned. 

"Hey . . . we couldn't have that!" the long-limbed blonde said with a wanton 
smile. 

Drying themselves with huge fluffy towels they stepped into the oversized 
bedroom. Red dominated. Red textured wallpaper. Red shades on the lamps and 
the love seat and dressing-table chair. A crystal chandelier hung from the 
gilded ceiling. The chandelier had been a terrible extravagance but one 
which gave Jack and Marcia a sense of wild sexual sin. It had been rescued 
from the estate of a long-deceased San Francisco madam and at one time had 
been converted from gas to electricity. At exorbitant expense. Jack Kimble 
had converted it back and connected it to the gas-supply of the big house. 
When lighted, the rose-colored chimneys of the gas jets cast i myriad of 
reflections in the many-sided crystals. Now going naked to the oaken 
wardrobe on the north wall, he paused to look through the full length window 
which overlooked tne rear yard of the Lansing place. 

"Jesus H. Christ!" he breathed softly. "Baby, come take a look at this!" 

Beth Lansing was still cutting the lawn, her long smooth leg muscles 
rippling with every stride. At the moment she was going away, and the 
chopped-off jeans were riding high in the "vee" of her loins, baring almost 
all of her clenching ass-checks. Her lush hips swayed enticingly as she put 
muscle into her job and it looked like her jiggling flesh would burst from 
the confines of the thin, worn cloth at any moment. 

Then she turned and paused for a moment, straightening up, rubbing the small 
of her back. The position thrust her high, proud breasts tight against the 
old shirt she was wearing, the firm round globes achingly outlined, her 
nipples prominent and erect. Her shirt was soaked darkly and molded to her 
tall, slender body like a second skin. Jack's cock suddenly gorged with the 
blood of lust and stood straight out from his flat belly like the trunk of a 
tree. He licked his lips lewdly, his tongue wetting them until they 
glistened. 

At that moment Harry Lansing appeared at the back door, wearing nothing but 
tennis shorts. He carried two cans of beer across the fresh cut lawn. 
Clearly visible was the thick straight length of a massive erection. He and 
Beth drank. 

"Jeez . . , . I knew she was a doll . . . but not that much of a doll!" Jack 
breathed heavily. "Damn, I just have to fuck that!" 

"It looks like he's got the same idea and she belongs to him," his 
blonde-haired wife said with an insinuating grin. She reached for his rigid 
cock and slowly began to play with it, not taking her eyes from the scene 
below. "And it looks like he's got the equipment. I'd like to sample it." 

"Yeah . . . Harry's a good looking young guy. And he's hung like a moose. 
I've seen him in the locker room at the club." 

"I meant both of them," Marcia whispered after a minute. "Oh, would I love 
to feel those beautiful legs squeezing my face!" 

"Hey! I didn't know you dug the girl bit so big!" 

"Darn few girls," the slender blonde said. "But that one has to be the piece 
de resistance. " 

In the yard below, a frolic seemed to have developed. Harry Lansing was now 
chasing his young, long legged wife around the yard, both of them slipping 
and sliding in the fresh cut grass. Her long hair flying, Beth stumbled and 
broke her stride and her husband caught her wrist, pulling her up. Then he 
held her firmly while he poured cold beer down the deep valley of her 
heaving breasts. The Kimbles could hear her squeals of protest, but he 
didn't release the dark-haired beauty until the can was empty. 

"Look at me!" Beth wailed as foam streamed down the smooth soft curve of her 
belly. She'd been sweaty enough before, but the beer was sticky in the 
bargain. Without thinking, she quickly undid the knot which held the 
shirttails together under her breasts, and the firm globes bounced free of 
their confinement. "Just look at meeeeee!" 

"Who could help it," her husband said, catching her around her slender, 
sleek waist and pulling her tight as he bent to take first one soft, hot 
breast and then the other into his eager mouth, his tongue teasing her 
nipples to elongated hardness and sensitivity. Beth felt a tingling deep in 
her loins and slowly she yielded to her passion, her hands caressing the 
blond head of her eager husband. She didn't try to squirm away when his hand 
delved lewdly between her splayed legs and his fingers slipped under the 
tight shorts to tease her cunt. 

"Damn! Look at that!" the aroused Jack Kimble mumbled from his hidden 
vantage point while Marcia's lecherously clutching fingers slowly massaged 
his inflamed rod of flesh. "I hope he fucks her right there on the grass. 
I'll bet she's a wild piece of ass!" 

"I can't stand this any more!" the trembling blonde said, transported to the 
height of carnal desire by the scene. "Turn a little sideways so I can see." 

With that she sank slowly to her knees on the deep wine-red carpet, cupping 
her husband's scrotum in one hand, slowly pumping his throbbing penis with 
the other. Her soft mouth gaped wide, forming a glistening "O", and the tiny 
pink tip of her tongue flashed out, licking eagerly at the pearly drop of 
pre-seminal fluid which had gathered at the small hole in the head of his 
thick penis. 

"Ummmmmmmmmmm . . . , " Marcia moaned in delight. Her tongue began to 
teasingly circle the ridge of the rubbery smooth cockhead, licking 
avariciously at the sweetness. Her eyes never left the couple in the 
adjoining yard even as she lifted her burly husband's lust engorged cock and 
the deft tip of her tongue lewdly flickered over the sensitive corona, then 
down the full length of the thick, heavily veined staff. She kissed and 
sucked his cum-laden balls and then, like it was an ear of corn, nibbled and 
kissed her way back to the mushroom shaped tip. 

Marcia could wait no longer. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, she engulfed 
her mate's pulsing cockhead, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked on it like a 
fat straw. 

Through her lust-crazed mind flashed the thought that once she had thought 
this an abomination, a perversion. It had taken Jack Kimble a full year to 
turn her into an expert and avid fellatrice. At times Marcia had thought it 
would be easier to learn to dance the Sleeping Beauty ballet as her 
sex-expert husband patiently led her from one nuance of the ancient art to 
the next. Learning to take his meaty cock deep in her throat, so his balls 
were smashed flat against her chin and her nose buried in the rich male 
fragrance of the pubic hair had perhaps been the most difficult. 

After that had come what he lasciviously called "breathing exercises" in 
which she learned to go down to the limit and stay there for a full hour, 
breathing through her nostrils entirely. He had taught her to bring him to 
the peak and keep him there as long as he desired, and then with one wild 
plunge of her head, drain his spurting spear of flesh completely. 

It had been the path to ecstasy for Marcia. 

Now she held only the passion-gorged head between her lips, lightly sucking 
and running her tongue around the hot glans as from her subservient kneeling 
position she watched Beth and Harry. Obviously they were getting hotter than 
hell. And then, arms around each other, they went into their house. 

"Shit!" Marcia said, and almost savagely engulfed her husband's pulsing 
manhood in her sorely stretched lips. Wildly her gulping mouth sucked in the 
full length of him, and her head began to bob with urgency and desire as her 
skilled fingers lewdly squeezed his balls. Her cheeks hollowed and ballooned 
with the fury of her attack, and Jack was fucking deep into her yearning 
oral cavity, his strong hands pulling her head tight to his quivering loins. 
She moaned, "Ummmmmmmmmmmmmm!" 

And then he was ready. She felt the mushroom grow huge, stretching her 
saliva-drooling lips and then the jerking of his penis as the first spurts 
of hot, thick cum splattered against the roof of her mouth and down, 
searingly salty sweet, to her quaking belly. Her inner lips were drawn out 
like those of a feeding fish on each out-stroke and rammed back into the 
wetness of her mouth as her husband kept fucking her soft lips. She sucked" 
and gulped and swallowed as if nothing else in the world mattered, and at 
the moment, nothing else did. She moaned softly in disappointment when there 
was no more, but refused to release him until his male member was soft and 
shrunken inside her still yearning mouth. Then, panting heavily, she allowed 
herself to be lifted to her feet and kissed. 

"I owe you one," he said. 

"If you can figure a way to get those two beautiful toys for us, I'll write 
it off the books," the long-limbed blonde said impishly, licking her semen 
glistening mouth. "You should know quite a bit about Harry, all the business 
you do." 

"Harry'd fuck a goat," Jack said. "She'll be the tough one. You remember 
we've had dinner a few times. When the jokes got a little blue, Beth turned 
off. And it's not a simple thing like inviting them over and getting them 
drunk and in bed. They hardly drink. And Harry might just get uptight if he 
caught me balling Beth." 

"We don't want them that way anyhow," the languorous blonde amended 
thoughtfully. "We want them aware and turned on in a way they'll stay turned 
on. But we don't have much in common with them." 

"Not much," Jack admitted. "Weekends, Harry lies in his hammock and watches 
Beth do the lawn. Sundays they usually pile in her Bug, put the top down and 
go on a picnic or to the beach or something." 

"Hmmmmmmm . . . " Marcia mused. "Just the two of them. They must get bored 
just with each other. Maybe if they could be led into a group thing, it 
would open the door for us." 

"Like what?" 

"The bike bunch . . . get them interested and we'd have a common ground. And 
living right next door . . . well . . . " 

"Doll, I think you might have something," her husband said, a conspiratorial 
gleam appearing in his eyes. "And at the right time, too. Tomorrow night's 
party, after the big ride. We'll have about thirty of the club here, and the 
films. Let me get on the phone." 

"Wait!" Marcia Kimble cautioned. "If you interrupt them in the middle of a 
fuck, they'll never come." 

Jack swung his muscular legs from the bed and padded to the window. It was 
almost night now, and the lights were on in the neighboring house. He said, 
"It's okay. They're both in the kitchen, dressed." He picked up the bedside 
phone and dialed and then said, "Harry? Jack. If you're not busy, Marcia and 
I would like to stop over for a little while. Got something to talk about." 

He listened a moment, then hung up and said to his languorous blonde wife, 
"Half an hour. Put on something that'll give him an eyeful when you bend 
over." 

"Do you let me wear anything else?" Marcia asked with a wry grin. She began 
to go through her wardrobe, looking for just the right garment. Something to 
whet Harry Lansing's imagination, stir the prurient beast within him, but 
not so severe it would raise the hackles on Beth's neck. She suspected that 
the dark-haired girl kept a sharp eye on her young husband. Finally she 
selected a smoke-gray mini-sheath which matched the color of her eyes and 
was just long enough so it wouldn't brazenly reveal her curvaceous 
ass-cheeks when she bent over, or ride up over her fine-sculpted lips, ran a 
comb through her tangled pale mane of hair and was ready. 

Beth answered the door when they rang. She was glad of the company. After 
Harry had aroused her in the backyard, it was she who almost pulled him into 
their bed for a long session of fondling and deep kissing, with tongues 
entwining, lips hungrily sucking. Her hand boldly enclosed his penis and his 
finger slid tantalizingly up and down the soft, wet furrow of her dilating 
pussy, as the sweet aroma of their aroused bodies filled the room. 

Kneading the foam-rubber resilience of Beth's breasts, Harry Lansing had 
begun his familiar campaign, blowing in her ear, teasing it with the hot wet 
tip of his tongue. 

"Take me in your mouth," he had whispered. 

"Nooooooooo.. . " Beth protested softly, but inside herself she knew the 
refusal wasn't as strong as it had been on previous occasions. She was 
terribly afraid that sometime she would succumb to her own hidden carnality. 
"Harry . . . Please!" 

But in his woman-knowing way, her husband had subtly continued, caressing 
and kissing and whispering while her breathing grew more and more uneven. 

"Then just kiss it, honey, please," he pleaded. "It'll make me harder than 
you've ever known me." 

"How much harder can you get?" Beth whispered back, trying to repress a lewd 
giggle. Within herself a struggle raged and for a moment she lost as she 
suddenly yielded and said, "All right.. . a kiss, if it means that much." 

"It does, honey, oh, how it does!" her delighted husband assured her. "Slide 
down a little in the bed and kneel by my hips. Make your lips soft and wet." 

Obediently, Beth did as instructed. She held the surging shaft of his penis 
in her hand, examining it closely. This part didn't bother her.. . in fact 
she enjoyed holding her husband's swollen member, feeling it hard as an iron 
bar, knowing she had this effect on him. In the gathering twilight, she 
could see the dark blood-engorged head and her nostrils flared at the manly 
scent. Moistening her soft, full lips, she slowly lowered her beautiful face 
over Harry's trembling loins. 

Breathing deeply, the dark-haired young woman blew on the mushroom-shaped 
head. A fraction of an inch separated it from her mouth, and the length of 
his shaft was all she could see. 

Ever so lightly her wet lips brushed the warm smooth head and her tongue 
came in contact with the glistening drop of pre-seminal fluid. 

"I can't!" Beth cried out, and before her startled mate could react, she 
swung her leg over his thighs, still tightly grasping his cock, he guided it 
instantly up to the flowering lips of her pussy and grunted as she impaled 
herself and felt the huge hot knob pushing waves of soft wet cuntal flesh 
ahead of it until in one movement he was buried to the base of his tree-like 
instrument up inside the warm moist depths of her clutching pussy. She threw 
her weight on him and wildly began to ride the rampant spear, feeling his 
heavy balls slap wetly against her wide-splayed ass-cheeks as she sobbed, 
"Harry, oh, Harry . . . I'm sorry! I meant to . . . I just couldn't! But 
I'll be good for you. So gooooood!" 

"You're great," he reassured her, fucking up hard into her seething vagina 
so she grunted with the violence of his thrust. That one lunge was enough to 
start the already aroused young woman cumming. She felt the trembling begin 
deep in her belly, the tightening of her sucking cuntal muscles as the 
rampaging cock rammed far up into her sweetly gushing young pussy. 

"Eeeeeeyyyyyaaaaaaahhhhh!" Beth cried out, grinding her pelvis down hard on 
his loins, rising straight up so his penis was going even farther into the 
hot liquid depths of her body. She could hear the sucking sounds as she rose 
and fell on his thundering cock, rocking back and forth, her buttocks 
churning wildly, her clitoris afire from the hard contact with his member 
and she begged, "Oooooohhhh . . . Stay hard! Stay in me, darling!" 

He did, for a long time, until finally his cock began to swell and jerk and 
gush thick hot cum far into her quaking little belly. Only when there was no 
more did Beth stop her wild gyrations and collapse over the panting body of 
her husband, kissing his chest and his eyes and ears and mouth, as gradually 
his perns became shorter and softened within her trembling body. As she lay 
limply on top of him, her firm breasts flattened against his muscular chest, 
Beth realized that in almost two years of marriage, this had been the best 
ever! 

And then a shocking thought hit her. Harry had been just as good countless 
times. The difference had been within herself, her arousal. Was it possible 
that the wanton way she had almost kissed his naked penis was the 
stimulating factor? God, she hoped not! Yet she had literally come within a 
hair's breadth of doing it, and then she had practically raped Harry. She 
tried to push the speculation from her mind, but nothing, even the cool 
shower they shared seemed to help. The thought kept haunting her. 

So Beth was glad when the Kimbles came over. 

Earlier in the day the dark-haired young wife had prepared a pickup supper 
and the two couples shared it after Harry got out the seldom-used gin and 
vermouth and mixed two rounds of martinis. Beth was pleased to discover it 
was a social rather than business call, but anything which would cool her 
lewd thoughts was welcome. 

Jack and Marcia finally got around to explaining about their party and 
issuing the invitation. Harry and Beth exchanged questioning glances. 

"Well, we were going on a picnic," Beth said uncertainly. 

"Have your picnic. This won't get going until eight-thirty or nine anyway," 
Marcia urged. 

"This is really a great gang. Not a drunk or pot smoker in the bunch. Bike 
riding keeps you in shape. Consider my handsome muscular spouse. If he 
didn't ride every week, he'd be a blimp." 

"Let's do it, honey," Harry urged, and Beth quickly agreed. 

They played four-handed pinochle until after midnight. Then Beth felt some 
of her security vanish as the door closed behind the Kimbles, and resolutely 
she told herself: I won't let myself be tempted! She sought for something 
that had to be done, hoping Harry would go up to bed and be asleep by the 
time she got there, but there was nothing. The dishes were in the washer, 
the ashtrays cleaned, the uneaten food in the refrigerator. 

And there was a gleam of lust in Harry's eyes, as if he knew just how close 
he had come to winning his lewd campaign. He took Beth in his arms and 
kissed her deeply, running his hand up the soft inside of her quivering 
thighs to the dampness of her cunt. His other hand unzipped her light summer 
dress. 

"Ooooohhh . . . Harrrryyyyyyy . . . Nooooooo!" Beth pleaded softly, ruffling 
his hair. "I'm exhausted, really." 

"Your panties are sopping wet," he whispered. "Your cunt lips are open like 
a flower in spring. Feel me," he urged, guiding her hand to his rising cock. 
"I'm not tired." 

"You, my friend, didn't spend the whole afternoon in the hot sun pushing a 
lawn mower," she said with a grin that she hoped he would read as just 
fooling. "You lay there in your hammock while your harem girl brought 
flagons of icy cold beer. Look, lover, I really am beat. In the morning, 
okay? Nice way to wake up." 

"Okay, Miss Frigid," the lean man said. 

In minutes they were in bed, naked, cuddled close. He didn't try to arouse 
her, and Beth realized she was tired. 

In the big house next door, Jack and Marcia Kimble hugged each other 
gleefully and Jack said, "Baby, Phase One complete." 

"I'll fuck to that!" The blonde unzipped his fly and groped. 

* * * 

Indeed, everything went as planned the next evening, and Harry and Beth 
found themselves experiencing the first pangs of hunger after their early 
afternoon picnic when a swarm of ten-speed bikes materialized in the drive 
of the Kimble place. Earlier a caterer's truck had arrived and a lavish 
banquet was set up in the softly lighted backyard. Cases of soft drinks and 
a keg of beer were on ice as a crowd of about forty spread out over the 
lavishly landscaped grounds. Beth and Harry drifted over, pausing to look at 
the tangle of expensive bikes and wonder what one cost. 

Jack and Marcia greeted them at the breezeway which led to the scene of 
festivities. "Beer and soda pop out here if you want something stronger, you 
know where the kitchen is." 

"Beer will be fine for us, Jack," Harry said. He looked over the assembly 
and was pleased with what he saw. The bike riders were young for the most 
part, and obviously in top physical shape, particularly their legs, which 
were heavily muscular. Obviously ravenous, they swarmed around the buffet 
and beer and soda pop, slaking their thirst after a long ride, filling their 
empty stomachs. There wasn't a bulging belly among them, and suddenly the 
young business manager felt self-conscious about his potential paunch. "They 
are a clean-cut group too bad the motorcycle gangs aren't like them. By the 
way, what's one of those bikes worth?" 

"You name it, buddy," Jack replied. "You can get one for a little over a 
hundred bucks, but it'll have a heavy frame and you'll be working your legs 
like hell to give your ass a ride. Some go as high as a thousand, and those 
you can lift with your little finger. Figure maybe three bills for a good 
touring bike, set up with headlamp, mirrors, theft chain, water bottle, tool 
kit and such." 

"That much?" Beth put in. 

"Think what you save on gas. Come on, before the chow is all gone," the 
banker said, drawing them along to the buffet. He drew Harry aside and 
whispered, "I'm not going to try to introduce you around you'd never 
remember their names. But they'll remember yours, because you're the only 
one they don't know. Now, take a look out there. About half those young 
couples are married and living in cracker boxes I wouldn't keep a skunk in. 
Let them know where you work, and I think you'll see a bunch dropping in at 
the trailer lot. Some have the money. For those who don't, bring them to me. 
I know the ones who'll be good for it, and I'll fix something up. Okay?" 

Harry saw the logic of it and, with Beth at his side began to circulate. He 
discovered he knew several of the guests and with Beth being at her charming 
best, had no difficulty in making friends. He noted smugly that several well 
formed and apparently unattached girls in skintight shorts looked at him in 
a way that said they wondered if it would be possible to separate him from 
his wife. 

A music system began to blast out the latest noise, and some of the young 
people had changed to bathing suits and were splashing in the pool. 

"You know, I sort of dig this," Beth said, hugging his arm possessively. 
"You should get a bike. Get rid of the spare tire." 

"I know a way that's more fun and so do you," Harry quipped. 

"I think it's supposed to strengthen back muscles too," she shot back, 
grinding a smooth hip against him. 

Later a movie projector and screen were set up and a color film produced by 
an association of bicycle manufacturers was shown. It proved to be of more 
than passing interest to the club members, for they were in one segment, 
pictured pedaling through towering mountains on roads where not a car was to 
be seen, picnicking, camping out in sleeping bags by the side of a 
quick-running stream. There were friendly cheers and boos at appropriate 
places and a lot of good-natured kidding back and forth. It seemed like a 
happy, healthy means of socializing also. 

The party began to break up after the movie ended, and soon Harry and Beth 
were the only ones left. They accepted an invitation to stay with their 
neighbors for a nightcap, and as the two couples settled down in the 
intimacy of the dark-paneled den, Harry said, "Beth and I are impressed. 
Frankly, we're bored with the same old stuff on weekends. How do you get 
into the bike scene anyway?" 

"Well, it's like barbecuing a whale," Jack said with a grin. "First you get 
a whale. Look, if you're really interested, I can take an afternoon off and 
the four of us will go down to Lou's bike shop and we'll see if he can fit 
you." 

"Fit us?" Beth said, not understanding. 

"Right. Bikes come in different sizes for different leg lengths. Harry has 
much longer legs than I have, and I couldn't ride a bike that fit him, and 
vice versa. And there are dozens of makes. And options, just like cars. What 
do you say?" 

Enthused by the quality of people she had met and intrigued by the potential 
pleasure of getting away from their weekend rut, Beth quickly assented. 
After some hesitation, Harry agreed too. 

Later they were glad they had Jack and Marcia to advise them. Four hours 
passed before they left the shop with two bikes and various accessories in 
the back of the station wagon and their checkbook some seven hundred dollars 
lighter. Then the Kimbles whisked them to a sports shop for proper biking 
clothes, and as the bank balance got lower, Harry wondered what he'd gotten 
into. 

"Only one thing bothers me," he said as he pored laboriously over an 
operating manual which would have done justice, in his opinion, to the 
newest model of jet aircraft. "How the hell do you ride one of the goddamned 
things? I went around the block and felt like I was bent double." 

"Oh, you'll catch on," Marcia said with a laugh. "A couple of days. We'll 
show you the basics in the evening after work. This weekend Jack and I were 
planning a ride by ourselves and a camp out. It would be a good chance for 
you to find your bike legs if you want to come." 

"Sounds like a good idea," Beth agreed. "I'd hate to make a fool of myself 
in front of the whole club." 

"Baby, everybody bounces once in awhile," Jack Kimble said reassuringly. 

They parted then, and Beth and Harry wheeled their new mounts into their 
garage and looking at them with distrust. Suddenly they seemed malevolent. 

Next door, Jack and Marcia Kimble mixed strong drinks and toasted each 
other, as prurient thoughts of the near future rumbled through their minds. 

"We've got 'em, Jack!" she exclaimed. "We've got them!" 

 CHAPTER TWO 

"And we want to keep them!" her banker husband admonished. "No matter how 
bonkers it may drive us, we're not going to do a damn thing except be pure, 
healthy bike riders this time out. Maybe the first few times. We just make 
sure they enjoy themselves and have fun." 

"But Jack . . . " the limber blonde protested, "I thought.. . " 

"You don't think, love, except with your pussy, when it comes to something 
like this," the stocky man argued. "First Beth and Harry aren't dopes. 
Suppose we did get chummy over a bottle this weekend and got a trade going. 
Well, they'd hate themselves and us in the morning and that would be the 
first, last and only time. And there'd be repercussions at the bank. Harry 
can take his business across the street any time he feels like it, and he is 
my best small-business client. I'd have a hell of a time explaining to the 
directors how the account was lost." 

"I suppose so," Marcia murmured, disappointed. 

"And then there's the angle of the spirit being willing but the flesh being 
weak. Remember when I talked you into riding? Christ, you didn't know you 
had all those muscles. After the first tour and it was only thirty, pretty 
flat miles, you walked bowlegged and bent over for a week. I forget how much 
liniment you sloshed on yourself." 

"Oh, God, do I remember!" 

"Harry isn't in shape. Bet you after the first day you'd need a block and 
tackle just to lift him into the saddle. And Beth would be a piece of dead 
meat with me," her clear-thinking husband went on. "Give them a few weeks. A 
couple of tours with the club, and with just the two of us." He winked. "Of 
course, we can sort of tease them a little along the way." 

"How?" Marcia asked, tossing her pale mane of long hair. "If we're keeping 
hands off." 

"Visual stimulation and stagecraft," Jack said with a lewd smile. "We'll go 
up to the old McCullough place this weekend. The bank's handling the 
property and I've got the gate key. We've balled down by the stream often 
enough. So after we turn in with the sleeping bags, you and I slip away, but 
make enough noise so we wake them. We go down by the creek and ball like 
hell in the moonlight. Really fool around. A long performance. Sucking and 
eating and fucking in all kinds of positions. A real sex show. Bet you 
they'll be watching from the bushes." 

The idea stimulated Marcia. She liked to do it with an audience, knowing 
that every man watching wanted her limber, full-breasted body, or her 
lush-lipped mouth, or her tiny tight anus. And often the women wanted her 
too. She usually found herself with two partners at the same time, and it 
was really wild! And there was something extra in doing it in the open, 
under the sun or the moon, feeling the rough earth against her bare skin as 
cocks and tongues plunged obscenely into her wantonly welcoming body. She 
said, "That sounds far out, Jack, and I know Harry would be right on top of 
it -Christ, I thought his eyes would burn a hole through my mini right into 
my cunt tonight -but what about Beth? I think she'd put the kibosh on it." 

"She'll come look just to see what's happening. I think the fire is 
smoldering there, and maybe she doesn't know it herself. Once she gets an 
eyeful she won't take time out to blink!" Jack predicted. 

"Hope you're right," his long-limbed wife said. "And that there is a moon." 

"It'll be full, and this time of year we never get clouds," he assured her. 
"Meanwhile, you can soften the darling girl up." 

"How?" 

"Teach her to ride the goddamned bike," he said with a touch of irritation. 
"A couple of hours every day if you can work it. Get her muscles toned up so 
that when I get my prick into her it'll be like bouncing on a trampoline." 

"And I suppose you're going to be Harry's trainer?" Marcia said with a pout. 

"By the time we get ready to move on them, Harry will be able to do his 
thing," Jack predicted confidently. He winked suggestively then. "And it 
will give you a chance to get really chummy with Beth, so that when we've 
got the swap started, she won't go bounding off like a frightened deer the 
first time you put your hand on her cunt. But for God's sake, play it cool. 
Don't do something dum-dum like getting her all sweated up on the bike and 
then suggest she join you for a cold shower!" 

"I wasn't born yesterday," Marcia drawled. "We've been through this routine 
before, you know." 

"Okay, that's our game plan, then. Want to fuck?" 

"What do you think?" his sultry blonde wife asked teasingly, reclining on 
the bed, her fingers urgently tweaking the rising nipples of her breasts. 

Reaching for a tube of jelly, the stocky man uncapped it and said, "Roll 
over and let's try the glory hole." 

"I thought you said 'fuck', " Marcia giggled lewdly. She rolled onto her 
stomach and then rose to her knees, legs spread wide, her pale-fringed pussy 
lips beginning to dilate and fill with blood, the tiny pink rose of her anus 
obscenely exposed. She got her elbows under her, stretched her hands 
straight ahead like a Muslim at prayer and trembled as she felt her 
husband's strong hands splitting her curvaceous ass-cheeks wide, and then 
his fingers rubbing the lubricating jelly into her resilient nether flesh. 
Then he was hovering over her, the bulbous knob of his cock-head pressing at 
her tightly puckered anus. Grunting, they thrust together. Her sphincter 
stretched and yielded as Marcia wriggled her buttocks in lewd invitation. 
She felt the full length of his pulsing cock going deep up into her rectum, 
and she sighed, "Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh . . . " 

* * * 

In the Lansing home, life was not going so smoothly in those early morning 
hours. Beth, undressing for bed, was bothered by two factors and she was 
sure there would be unpleasantness before daylight. 

First, the way her husband's eyes had been fixed on the sleek figure of 
Marcia Kimble had not escaped her for a moment. Every time Marcia had 
crossed the room with that inviting sway to her rich hips, Harry had been 
mentally stripping the tall blonde naked. Not that she could blame him much, 
because every time Marcia bent over even slightly the abbreviated skirt had 
ridden up to show the smooth roundness of her ass-cheeks, covered by only 
the flimsiest of bikini panties. And if she happened to be facing toward 
Harry, her ripe breasts almost fell from her bodice. 

Not that Beth could blame her husband or any man for ogling Marcia Kimble. 
And Jack didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to take pride in having a 
wife other men lusted for on sight. And she was aware that Jack in his turn 
had given her nothing but approving and possibly speculative glances. Now 
Beth was beginning to get a few second thoughts about the bike thing, but 
they were too far in to back out now. Well, she could take care of herself, 
she was sure of that, but she dreaded the thought of any unpleasantness. 

Second, she knew that Harry was hot again from the stimulation of eyeing the 
near-naked Marcia for hours. He would want to screw her again . . . often he 
raised a rock-hard erection two or three times a night and took her long and 
forcefully. 

Not that the dark-haired dark-eyed woman objected. Her young body liked to 
feel his rampaging maleness plunging in and out of her clutching pussy, and 
she thought she could be as passionate as any woman. 

But this night she was afraid of herself. She kept thinking of how she had 
almost yielded to her deep-buried wanton desires and taken Harry's cock into 
her soft, virginal mouth this afternoon. For an instant her lips had 
actually made the lightest possible contact with the throbbing, 
mushroom-shaped tip before her moral upbringing had overcome her carnality 
and she had desperately mounted his muscular body and impaled her tight 
little pussy on his long thick rod of flesh. Beth, undressed now and lying 
naked on the sheets while Harry used the bathroom, was afraid. She was sure 
that her aroused husband would, after having almost succeeded in getting her 
to fellate him as he had begged her to do so many times in the past, would 
certainly try again tonight and this time she was almost certain she would 
discard all her morals and yield her soft wet lips, at least to kiss his 
penis as she had agreed to earlier before her nerve left her, if not 
actually take it into her mouth. 

Beth had heard all the arguments, both from Harry and a few of her more 
uninhibited girlfriends. 

A man's penis was far cleaner than his mouth, as far as germs went. 

Doctors, psychiatrists, marriage counselors and others in professional 
positions now strongly recommended fellatio and cunnilingus as perfectly 
natural and beneficial to both partners, either as foreplay to straight 
intercourse or as an end in themselves. 

With her sucking mouth clamped tightly to her partners cock, a woman could 
give far more varied and satisfying pleasure to her partner than with her 
vagina alone. 

Ingesting male semen was actually healthful. It made the complexion clearer 
and sometimes caused breasts to grow larger. 

And it was a lot of fun! 

Now, as Harry came naked into the room, his penis waving like a thick pine 
tree in a high wind, his eyes glittering with obscene anticipation, the 
young housewife almost cringed. Beth started to draw the thin sheet over her 
curvaceous body and whispered, "Harry . . . please don't!" 

"What the hell!" he blurted, standing over the bed staring. He could not 
believe his ears. Since they had been married, his voluptuous dark-eyed wife 
had never objected. "Did I hear right?" 

"Yes," Beth whispered, her mouth twisted with the effort of saying it. 
"Harry, I'm just plain beat. . . exhausted." 

"Horseshit!" he blurted, and slid into bed beside her, taking her in his 
strong arms, pulling her warm, trembling body tight to the length of his, 
pressing his cock into the softness of her quaking belly, rubbing her, 
caressing the milk-white softness of her high, firm breasts as Beth writhed 
against him. "Exhausted from what?" 

"Just. . . tired. People do get tired," Beth mumbled. 

Without a word he grasped her hand and forced her reluctant fingers down 
around the pulsating thickness of his rigid cock. Beth could feel the thick 
veins jumping as his heart began to beat faster. Then his hand was up 
between her legs, his fingers parting the dark cuntal slit, seeking the wet 
coral-hued inner flesh, teasing her reluctantly swelling clitoris, and she 
moaned in mounting carnal desire as her body of its own will began to 
undulate against her eager husband. 

If only he would spread her legs and put it into her hot cunt quickly, it 
would be all right, Beth knew. God! She wanted it, and she knew that Harry 
was well aware of the fact. 

"Ooooohhhhh . . . Ooooooooohhhhhh the dark-tressed young woman sighed, and 
let her legs splay lewdly open on the sheets. 

'That's better," Harry said with a salacious chuckle. She humped her 
dark-curled pubic mound in invitation, praying he would mount her and ram 
his cock deep into her yearning little belly in one savage lunge. But Harry 
didn't. She felt him shifting on the bed, and then a hand at the back of her 
head, pulling her up from the pillow as he said in obscene urgency, "Finish 
it, baby. What you started before you freaked earlier. Suck me!" 

"No!" Beth almost shrieked, struggling to free herself from his savage grasp 
as he roughly pushed her fear-contorted face down to his loins. 

His cock seemed enormous, and now it was rubbing against the softness of her 
cheek and under her chin and even across her tightly compressed lips as 
tears began to stream from her eyes and roll down her face. His rampant 
penis was hard and hot, the reddish-purple blood-swollen tip felt soft and 
rubbery against her face. Harry had a fistful of her long dark hair now, 
twisting, forcing her head around and down until the blunt bulbous knob was 
pushing hard against her soft full lips. She gritted her teeth so hard her 
jaw muscles stood out like walnuts. She kicked and beat at his hard-muscled 
body with her fists but couldn't seem to hurt him. Then some instinct told 
her to go limp for an instant, and she did. 

Sensing triumph, her aroused husband relaxed his grip on her head for an 
instant, and like a savage cat striking, Beth swooped down, her mouth wide 
open, fine white teeth bared. She sank her teeth deep into the 
ultra-sensitive flesh of his inner thigh, biting so hard she tasted blood 
and heard her husband cry out in surprise. Then stars exploded in her head 
as the flat of his hand clouted her, knocking her loose, sending her 
sprawling from the bed to the carp ted floor. Crablike, she scrambled away, 
trying to get to her feet, and falling again. 

"You goddamned crazy fucking cunt!" he yelled at her, staring at the trickle 
of blood that began just an inch below his semen-heavy balls. "You nuts or 
something?" 

"You perverted animal," Beth hissed. She was afraid he was going to come 
after her and beat her, and she looked for a weapon but there was nothing 
close at hand. Terrified, she cringed in a corner as the menacing figure of 
her raging husband loomed over her. His hand came flashing down, but he 
didn't hit her. Harry grabbed her left arm in fingers of spring steel and 
effortlessly jerked her to her feet and threw her on the bed. 

Beth landed hard, bouncing, legs flying wide open, exposing the tight pink 
slit of her pussy and the soft dark curls which guarded it. Her full-mounded 
breasts bounced and jiggled and she raised her arm over her face to protect 
herself from the beating she still expected. She could see the thin string 
of blood seeping through the hairy skin of Harry's leg where she'd bitten 
him. 

Then, with a lunge he was on top of her, mauling her breasts and painfully 
twisting the nipples as Beth sobbed uncontrollably beneath him. 

His face a mask of fury, Harry said, "You bitch! I should beat the ass off 
you. Instead, I'll just fuck it off!" 

With that he threw her thrashing legs up over her shoulders until his 
rampant cock had an unobstructed path to her helplessly strained pussy. Her 
tear-streaked face was framed by her slender, shapely calves and Beth 
thought her spine was going to snap because of the way she was bent double. 
Through the blur of tears, she saw his massive penis bearing down like a 
rocket on her defenselessly spread pussy. It slammed into her tender cunt 
lips and bored relentlessly up into her fear-tensed belly, slamming 
painfully against the mouth of her womb. 

"Aaaaauuuuuggggghhhhh!" the lewdly impaled woman cried out, and tried to 
struggle. But it was impossible, because Harry was lying heavily on top of 
her contorted body now, his powerful hands gripping her slender ankles and 
jamming her long legs so far back she was sure the tendons would pull loose 
from their sockets as he began to fuck violently in and out of her gaping 
pussy like a machine gone wild. "Oh, my God!" the shocked and terrified 
dark-haired beauty sobbed. This was rape! "Harry . . . You're hurting 
meeeeeeee!" 

"You're lucky I don't break your fucking neck!" he gasped, withdrawing until 
only the glistening head of his cock was still imbedded in her writhing 
body, then slamming forward with brutal force, sending ripples of ravaged 
cuntal flesh flowing ahead of it. His heavy balls smacked wetly and 
relentlessly against her lewdly exposed anus and sweat soaked her sorely 
stretched ass-cheeks. 

Nothing like this had ever happened to Beth Lansing before. God, but it 
hurt. Her backbone seemed to be on the verge of snapping, and all she could 
see was the tremendous log-like cudgel of her husband's male flesh pistoning 
in and out of her helplessly dilated vagina. With each out-stroke, tightly 
clinging pink cuntal flesh was pulled out from her squirming body, only to 
be rammed far up inside her again an instant later as Harry's long thick 
cock ravaged her defenseless body. Beth shut her tear-brimming dark eyes 
tight and tried to make believe it wasn't happening to her! This was the 
sort of thing she might expect if some hoodlum had attacked her on one of 
her nighttime strolls -but never from the husband she loved, the man she 
thought loved her. 

Then, in a masochistic way, she began to find some pleasure in it. Her body 
had adjusted to its twisted, bent position, and Harry was getting deeper 
into her ordinarily eager pussy than he ever had before. Instinctively Beth 
wanted to join him now, writhe her hips, hump her clutching pussy up to get 
more and more of his rampant white-hot spear. She'd never been screwed to 
such a frenzy in her life! God! He was splitting her wide open, grinding his 
pelvis against the hotly throbbing bud of her clitoris, and sweat was 
pouring from her straining body. Her arms flailed and her hands beat a 
tattoo on the bed and she moaned, "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhh . . . Eeeeeeeey 
yyyaaaahhhhhh!" 

"Yeah," he grunted, ramming into her yielding flesh. "You like it rough, 
don't you, bitch! Well, it'll get rougher!" 

Despite the obscene way he'd assaulted her, Beth's carnal needs had betrayed 
her, and she had been on the point of wildly throwing her arms around his 
neck and holding him close and fucking up and down on his pummeling cock 
with all the strength of her young, eager body. But his words were a bitter 
slap in the face to her. All sensation left Beth's straining body in an 
instant. She was only dimly aware that a steel-hard bar of flesh was 
invading her tender loins. She looked up into her husband's lust-crazed eyes 
and spoke with a coldness she'd never used toward him, or any person, in her 
life. 

"I wish you'd finish," she said scornfully. "After all, I'm just a 
receptacle. You don't care at all whether I'm enjoying this or not." 

This only added to the young trailer salesman's fury, and for a moment she 
thought he was going to strike her again, but he only gritted his teeth and 
his lips twisted in a tight grimace as his cock reamed deep into her now 
motionless flesh. And her scorn had an even more devastating effect. 
Correctly reading the complete indifference in Beth's eyes, and her 
momentary hatred and disgust, Harry lost his erection in a matter of 
seconds. 

What less than a minute before had been a pile-driving shaft of spring steel 
suddenly softened and became a fat, shriveled worm. Cursing, he tried to get 
hard again, but it was no use. His lovely wife had unconsciously hit a 
nerve, made him see he was a complete shit, and that took everything out of 
Harry. With a groan of frustration, he crawled away from Beth, and she 
slowly lowered her obscenely stretched legs, her beautiful face 
expressionless. That hurt. too. Harry could have understood it if there'd 
been a smile of vengeful female triumph on the sensuous lips, but there was 
nothing there, or in the eyes. He was a non-person to his wife. 

Slowly he rolled from the bed and went into the bathroom. He washed and put 
stinging iodine on the place where she had bitten and drawn blood. 

As he came out and went shamefacedly back to bed, Beth passed him and shut 
the door behind her. Harry was sure she'd spend the rest of this night and 
maybe a lot more nights in the guest room rather than share a bed with him. 

Again she put him down by calmly returning in a few minutes and sliding 
still naked into her own side of the bed. Hell, she didn't even care enough 
about him to avoid him after the lousy thing he had done to her. Harry 
wanted to apologize, try to explain, beg her to forgive him, but he knew 
this was not the time. He rolled on his side, leaving plenty of room between 
them, and eventually went to sleep. 

On her side of the bed, Beth Lansing cried soundlessly, blaming herself for 
what had happened more than Harry. She knew he was a sensualist, one of 
those men who have a tremendous sex drive. She realized her own desires were 
almost a match for his, with the exception of the fact that she just didn't 
believe in his kind of variety. Deep down in her heart she was sure that the 
variations he so ardently proposed would be highly pleasurable for her too . 
. . yet her conservative upbringing held her prisoner. Although all the 
evidence and arguments for a more varied sex life were on 

Harry's side, she just could not break down the barrier which had been years 
in forming. 

This had been their first real fight since their marriage, and Beth hadn't 
known how to handle it, so she had reacted like a cornered wild animal. And 
just as her lewd desires, and the vision of what she must look like being so 
roughly subjugated by the rough male lust of her husband, had been about to 
sweep away all restraint, he had blurted out his hateful words and destroyed 
it all. And then she had struck back, unexpectedly hitting a vital spot and 
hurting Harry far more than she intended. 

Beth had tried to sort out her confused thoughts during the minutes she had 
spent in the bathroom. She didn't want to face Harry yet, and thought of 
sleeping in the guest room. But, she considered, that would only make things 
worse, deepen his humiliation and feeling of rejection. So Beth had forced 
herself to return to their bed but masking her feelings, showing her husband 
a completely inscrutable face. And he had barely glanced at her, his hatred, 
she thought, was so deep. 

"Jesus," she whispered. "How will I ever patch this up!" 

So, in the long silence of the bitter night, each completely misinterpreted 
the other's feelings. Beth wished they'd had more fights, small ones, 
because then she would have some idea of how to handle this blockbuster that 
had blown them to separate sides of the big bed. 

The troubled brunette beauty was completely ignorant when it came to 
fighting. She blamed much of this on the idyllic marriage of her parents. 
Her father ran a small, old-fashioned, but profitable hardware store in a 
central Oregon city. The family was not wealthy, but prosperous, typical 
Middle America. 

Beth's mother was content to be a housewife and had no interest in clubs or 
do-gooder organizations. Their rambling old Victorian home was always 
spotless, and if the furniture was forty or fifty years out of date, it was 
comfortable. 

Not once in all her years at home had Beth ever heard her parents raise 
their voices to each other. For one to have struck the other was 
unthinkable. The family attended the Baptist church but was not active in 
its affairs. It had been a placid life, but hardly one to prepare the 
budding Beth for marriage to a fast-moving, quick-dealing husband like 
Harry. 

Beth was just realizing how much she had to learn. One thing she was sure of 
her married life would never be like that of her parents. If for no other 
reason than the passage of time and the emergence of the modern, highly 
mobile, affluent leisure society and its permissiveness. 

Harry Lansing was a product of that society, and now one of those who made 
it run faster and faster. He was a California boy, and even now they don't 
raise the same kind of people in central Oregon as they do in free-swinging 
California. Beth knew that she was the one who would have to adapt, of 
necessity. Not only could Harry never fit into the world in which she had 
grown to curvaceous, sensuous maturity that world no longer existed. 

And, Beth reasoned, she was the one who would have to take the first step 
toward healing the breach. She knew it must have been a terrible blow to her 
virile husband's psyche when her scornful words had cut him so deeply that 
he went soft inside her tight, lubricious cunt just as she was on the point 
of totally yielding herself. 

Wet-eyed, Beth silently cried out her frustration as she stared at the pale 
rectangle of the bedroom window, and she made a momentous decision. 

She would do it! 

Now! 

She would show her husband how repentant she was, and restore his shaken 
faith in his manhood. 

Beth swept all thought of right and wrong from her mind as she determined to 
take his penis into her soft lips and waken him, kneeling subserviently 
between his legs and letting him grow and fill her salivating mouth! 

Silently she eased across the big bed until she felt the heat of his body. 
She drew down the single sheet that covered them and gazed at the dim shape 
of his sleeping frame. His penis, shriveled and short now, lay limply across 
the thigh she had bitten in fury but a short time before. 

With purposeful fingers, the trembling wife reached out to touch it, and 
almost giggled when she realized this was one of the few times she had seen 
it soft. Harry was always so randy and ready! Gently she rolled back the 
fleshy foreskin and her fingers lightly caressed the moist softness of the 
tip. Harry made a little moaning sound in his sleep, but didn't stir. Beth 
rose to her knees above his naked loins and for a long time stared at his 
cock, thinking of what she must do. Somehow, with Harry asleep, it didn't 
seem as difficult as she thought it would. Gently she rolled the cap of skin 
back and forth, her head slowly descending toward his flaccid member, her 
tongue nervously wetting her lips. They pursed into a warm, glistening oval, 
and Beth knew she could do it! 

Tenderly she kissed the unresponsive head and then timidly sucked it into 
her salivating mouth. Surprisingly, there was no taste except for a slight 
saltiness. Tentatively she sucked and explored the little end-slit with the 
tip of her tongue, feeling a twinge of excitement in her loins as she 
realized she was finally doing this forbidden thing! Between her 
inexperienced lips, the tender flesh twitched slightly, and Beth's 
fingernails danced lightly over her husband's velvet-soft testicles. 

"Aarrraaauuuuufffff!" Harry snorted, not waking, but tossing and turning. 
His hand came up like he was brushing a bothersome fly away, and Beth found 
her experiment at an abrupt end as the cock which had been so eager for her 
oral ministrations an hour before slipped from between her lewdly sucking 
lips.. . Harry snored. 

Startled for a minute, the long-limbed brunette finally had to stifle her 
chuckles, realizing her husband was so deep asleep she'd have had to kick 
him awake. 

"Oh, boy, Harry, you'll never know what you slept through," she whispered to 
herself, grinning. 

Before drifting off to sleep herself, Beth Lansing decided she felt better 
now. She'd taken the big first step, actually absorbed his cock into her 
mouth and without the revulsion she'd feared. Of course, it had been less 
than a minute, and the results were a definite zero, but she didn't feel the 
guilt or debasement she'd expected. It hadn't seemed natural, of course, but 
on the other hand it had not seemed unnatural. 

But, the musing beauty wondered, could she do it when Harry was wide awake 
and his cock was sticking out long and thick and pulsing with livid desire? 

Beth wasn't at all sure about that . . . but at least she'd made a start. 

* * * 

"I was a real bastard," Harry said contritely as she prepared breakfast. 
"Babe, I'm sorry. You know how horny I get." 

"I wasn't so sweet myself," Beth said, smiling as she put scrambled eggs, 
bacon, toast and coffee in front of him. "We just don't know how to fight, I 
guess." 

"You know how to fight," her husband said ruefully. "You've got the fangs of 
a sabre-toothed tiger." He grinned and began to eat. "It's going to be hell, 
straddling that hard skinny bike saddle considering where you bit." 

"Want to call it off?" Beth said, half-hoping he would 

"Hell, no," Harry replied. "I'll just bring a can of that aerosol pain 
killer and walk bowlegged." 

Beth was absolutely buoyant as she watched him drive off in the station 
wagon. She knew 

Harry must be feeling plenty guilty, whereas she herself felt no guilt at 
all now. Somehow she reasoned that in attempting to accede to his 
long-standing obscene desires and fellate him, that she had absolved 
herself. Anyway, they were both to blame for the fiasco, and the less said 
the better. 

* * * 

Marcia Kimble called, inviting her to lunch, and Beth accepted. They ate in 
the shade of the big tree by the pool as the temperature rose into the 
eighties, and when they were finished the lissome blonde suggested they get 
their bikes out and Beth could get in a little practice for the weekend. 

"Oh, Marcia, it's so hot!" the dark-haired girl protested. She could feel 
the sweat beading on her body under her thin blouse and making the "vee" of 
her loins sweaty. 

"Honey, you think this is hot? Wait and see what it's like after a 
fifty-mile ride and ten degrees more. That is hot! Come on, got to get you 
toughened up." 

"Okay," Beth yielded. "I'll go home and change." 

"Not for just practice," Marcia said. "Save the good duds for when you've 
learned not to fall off." 

In a half hour they were pedaling along a country road which rose and fell 
and writhed through the gentle foothills, shaded in many sections by oak and 
madrona and pepper trees. Somewhere nearby a brook was talking to itself. 
Beth felt good, even though long unused muscles were beginning to throb. But 
she was catching on to how the bike should be handled. She just wished the 
thin saddle had a little more comfort built into it, and suspected her 
buttocks would be black and blue that night. Also, she found the 
rough-riding bike sexually stimulating. Every little jar rammed the narrow 
saddle hard against her sensitive pussy, and she thought that if this kept 
up much longer, she would cum! 

"I never knew this road was here," Beth said, as she shifted down on the 
approach to a hill. The shifting was the most difficult part for her. She 
could never quite remember which of the two front sprockets, or which of the 
five rear, was engaged, but was sure that in time it would come to her. The 
caliper brakes front and rear had quickly taught her which was which. Three 
times she grabbed the front brake first. The wheel locked and without grace 
or ceremony she went flying over the underslung handlebars to land painfully 
and without dignity, swearing softly. And, as if announcing the miracle of 
the day, "We haven't seen a single car!" 

"That's one of the beautiful things about riding a bike," Marcia replied, 
smiling. "In a car, you'd completely pass this road up. When we go out, 
we're always looking for these remote byways, and you'd be surprised how 
many we find, even with all the new people moving in and the land being 
subdivided." 

Beth Lansing, her dark hair streaming dark in the breeze as they topped the 
rise and began a fast descent into a little valley, could only smile her 
complete agreement. She hadn't felt so free, so in possession of herself, in 
a long time. The joy of the warm summer afternoon was enough to make her 
forget her aching muscles. She wondered how far they had ridden and thought 
it just had to be ten miles at least. Her thin shirt was soaked through with 
perspiration, clinging to her like a second skin, and her cunt was on fire 
from the unending vibrations. She began to suspect that a lot of the rides 
were topped off by uninhibited sex because there was no denying a throbbing 
clitoris and a hotly flowing pussy. 

"I'll admit we fudge a little on finding these roads," Marcia said with a 
wink as they rode side by side, coasting now on a gentle downgrade. "We buy 
government maps that show every little trail and shack, and then we 
explore." 

"Sounds great!" Beth said enthusiastically, not knowing that this particular 
road led to the 

McCullough place, where Jack and Marcia had carefully planned to arouse her 
and her husband with a wantonly lewd display of sex in the moonlight and 
break down her resistance for what they hoped would eventually develop. But 
now her thigh muscles were aching, and it seemed like they would knot up at 
any moment with painful cramps. Wincing, the dark-haired girl said, "I 
hurt.. . can we stop for a little?" 

"I thought you would," Marcia replied with a tinkling laugh. "A mile or so 
ahead there's a clearing by the stream. I brought some linament." 

There was a turnout and a dirt lane leading down to an oak-shaded vale and a 
small strip of sand where the creek backed up and formed a pool. It was 
quiet and dark and completely secluded in case anybody came by, which seemed 
unlikely as they hadn't seen a single soul for miles. Beth gazed at the 
slowly moving clear water and said, "Ooh, I could sure go for a swim." 

"You didn't bring a bathing suit," Marcia said, not trusting herself. Jack 
had made it abundantly clear there was to be no fooling around until the 
time was right, but she could see the way Beth's sawed-off jeans were 
pressing into the sweet slit of her pussy, clearly outlining the soft lips, 
and she found herself salivating. She was afraid of blowing the whole 
scheme. 

"We could go skinny dipping there's nobody around," Beth said boldly. 

"That's mountain water about two degrees above freezing," Marcia admonished. 
"A couple of minutes in that pool and you'd have cramps that would make you 
scream in agony, the way you're heated up." 

Beth Lansing could appreciate the logic. . . but the water was so tempting. 
Nevertheless, as she moved toward it, every muscle in her body twanged in 
protest and she sank down gratefully in a patch of thick, sweet-smelling 
grass and began to rub her legs. 

"Maybe too much too soon," Marcia said, kneeling beside her with a bottle 
and pouring some of the contents into the palm of her hand. She began to rub 
and stroke Beth's long, slender legs and the pungent odor of liniment filled 
the air. "Most of the trip back is downhill, and we'll take it easy, okay?" 

"Ummmmmmmm.. . " Beth murmured, stretching, luxuriating in the soothing 
caress and the penetrating medication. 

Marcia's fingers shook as she skillfully massaged the beautiful brunette's 
legs. They were so soft, yet firmly muscled. Oh, how sweet it would be to 
have them clamped tight to her face while her skilled tongue worked Beth up 
to a frenzy of sensual desire. And the younger woman was showing signs of 
response to 

Marcia's grasping hands too, sighing, her full breasts beginning to rise and 
fall unevenly and her hips rolling slowly on the soft carpet of grass. 

Damn Jack anyway! Marcia thought. She knew that a few more minutes of her 
lewdly deft manipulations, which already had her sexy neighbor halfway into 
a trance, and she could make love to her! Beth was ripe and ready right now, 
whether she knew it or not. Probably she didn't. Beth had certainly never 
fooled around with another girl, of that Marcia was sure. But Jack did know 
best. . . there was no point in blowing their carefully planned scene for 
one frantic lesbian eruption. It was nevertheless a great struggle for 
Marcia to finally cap the bottle. Shaking like a new bride, Marcia replaced 
it in the saddlebag of her bike and returned with a Thermos jug and paper 
cups. 

"Gin and tonic, pre-mixed and ice cold," she said. 

Beth didn't care for the drink, but at the moment she felt like her throat 
was on fire, and made no protest. And the tart drink was refreshing . . . 
she could not remember ever enjoying a drink more in her life. The bottle 
held a pint, and between them they finished it, while talking about the 
weekend bike trip. They would start out early Saturday morning and take 
their time, stopping at some roadside tavern for lunch. They would bring 
enough food for their evening meal and breakfast in the morning plus Sunday 
lunch. Both the Kimbles and the Lansings had camping gear, sleeping bags and 
ground covers and such. Marcia stressed the fact that every extra ounce on a 
bike was that much more work, and said she would pick up everything they'd 
need. 

"A lot of it will be dehydrated, to save space and weight, but the stuff is 
really good they feed it to astronauts and anyway, you'll be hungry enough 
to eat the ass off a skunk," she assured Beth with a flash of vulgarity. 

Time passed and the level of the gin and tonic went down in time to the 
sinking sun. Beth dozed, content, until Marcia shook her awake and said it 
was time they left. She didn't like to ride in the dusk, because visibility 
was poor and on a bike you stood no chance against a car at any speed. Beth 
groaned at the ache in her muscles as she remounted her new bike, but within 
a couple of miles, her muscles had limbered up and she was able to easily 
keep up with Marcia. 

As they pulled up in front of the Kimble house, Beth had to laugh. Her 
husband Harry was in the process of taking a beautiful header from his bike 
as Jack Kimble stood by and shouted instructions. 

Ruefully Harry picked himself up and became aware of the two wives. He said, 
"Did you see what happened to me!" 

"I sure did," Beth said teasingly. "You fell right flat on your ass! Do it 
again!" 

"Sure, pal.. . you know, when an Air Force pilot busts a plane up, they send 
him right up again. Otherwise he gets chicken," Jack needled. 

Gritting his teeth, Harry picked up his bike and mounted it and pedaled off 
furiously. Within minutes he had made another miscalculation and was flat on 
his back on the ground once more. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Jack and Marcia Kimble had planned well. Everything went exactly according 
to the blueprint. The cloudless first day was pleasantly warm but not 
scorching, and there was no reason to hurry, so Beth's and Harry's muscles 
were not overtaxed. Harry thought of how long it had been since he'd had a 
vacation, and he made a vow he was going to let the business run itself for 
a couple of weeks, as soon as the summer season was ended, and take Beth off 
to some quiet, rustic place. He knew he'd been pushing himself too hard, and 
taking it out on his young wife. 

There was a spring-fed pond on the McCullough place, its water clear and icy 
cold. The two couples changed into swimming suits and disported themselves 
in the water until they were thoroughly cooled and, with the sun below the 
mountain ridges, ready to eat heartily. Sometime in years past a stone 
barbecue had been built, and they fueled it with chunks of dead wood which 
was easy to gather. They ate ravenously and as dusk came on, they laid out 
their sleeping bags under the trees, about twenty feet apart. The chill of 
the mountain night enveloped them as the moon floated over the horizon and 
suddenly the exertions of the day overtook Beth. She shivered and said to 
Harry, "Brrrrr! I'm for crawling into the sleeping bag -how about you?" 

"Thinking the same," her salesman-husband replied. 

"We're going to take a little stroll and let dinner settle down," Marcia 
said. She and Jack disappeared into the shadows of a pathway through the 
trees. As soon as they were out of sight, Harry and Beth stripped naked. To 
Harry, his dark-haired wife looked like a woodland goddess in the moonlight, 
tall and slender and full breasted, with the dark mass of her hair and the 
triangle of brunette pubic hair at the juncture of her thighs. Quickly he 
pulled her into their double sleeping bag and took her in his arms, kissing 
her urgently, spearing his tongue deep into her mouth. 

"Ummmmm . . . " Beth murmured against his hot lips, and pressed her limber 
body tight to his. She felt his fingers close on her breast, teasing the 
nipple to elongated hardness and sending ripples of desire through her. Then 
his hand was moving up between her smooth, sensitive inner thighs, fondling 
the soft lips of her cunt. She could feel the juices begin to build in her 
belly, and she rubbed her soft, warm flesh against him. Beth allowed him to 
guide her hand down to his already hard penis and she squeezed it in a 
promise of passion to come. She ground her cuntal "vee" up hotly against his 
massaging fingers and felt the lips of her pussy parting in desire. As he 
rolled her onto her back and moved to mount her, she heard the Kimbles 
returning, and pulled away, murmuring in disappointment, "We'll have to 
wait." 

"It better not be long," her husband grumbled. 

'They'll probably go right to sleep," she reassured Harry. 

They pretended to be asleep themselves, but through narrowed eyelids, the 
young couple watched Jack and Marcia undress in the moonlight and fondle 
each other suggestively. Jack had a rigid erection and bent to kiss his 
blonde wife's alabaster breasts. 

Harry was sure the uninhibited Kimbles would be at each other the minute 
they were in the bedroll, and he wondered why the hell they even got into 
the thing, with all the open space with its soft grass and concealment of 
trees and undergrowth available. Hell, fucking in the open air was the best 
kind. Well, he was sure their sleeping bag would soon look like a cat and 
dog fight was going on inside it. 

Yet nothing happened. They were lying there talking, for chrissakes! He 
could hear the low murmur of their voices, and occasionally a chuckle and he 
wondered how any man could lie next to the voluptuously naked Marcia and not 
plunge his cock right up into her tight little pussy. Well, he supposed 
that's what happened when you were married too long you took it for granted 
and lost interest. Damn, he wished they'd go to sleep or fuck themselves to 
sleep or something, so he could bang Beth. His beautiful brunette wife had 
her hand wrapped possessively around his penis, but he could tell from the 
slowing of her breathing that despite herself, she was falling asleep. In 
his mind he double-damned Jack and Marcia Kimble. In time the frustrated 
young husband also found his eyes getting heavy and his mind wandering. He 
was actually on the very edge of oblivion when he vaguely heard the whisper 
of a zipper and saw the Kimble sleeping bag opening and the two figures 
sliding out of it, hurrying down toward the grassy banks of the pond that 
gleamed silver with the combination of moonlight and dew. They passed from 
view, and then after a moment he heard Marcia's seductive, sultry laugh, and 
a squeal of pleasure. 

He had to see what was going on! 

He had not fully zipped up his side of their bedroll, and he eased his long 
lean body out of it without waking Beth, who was deep asleep now. 

Seeking the concealment of trees and shadows, Harry Lansing made for the 
pond. The mat of wild grasses around it was thick, silencing any sound his 
bare feet might have made. It was a silvery carpet in the light of the moon 
which was directly overhead. 

What he saw made him blink, and then grin in obscene appreciation. 
Fascinated, he watched his neighbors for several minutes and came to the 
conclusion that Marcia was just as hot as she looked, if not better. 

This was something Beth had to see maybe it would knock some of the 
prudishness out of her! As silently as he had come, he returned to his 
sleeping wife and nudged her awake, covering her mouth with his hand lest 
she cry out and alert the Kimbles. 

"Shhhh! There's something you've got to see." 

"Wh . . . what?" the bewildered Beth mumbled. 

"You won't believe it. Be quiet, now." Harry took her hand and virtually 
pulled her to her feet and tugged her along behind him. When they came to 
the place, Harry motioned Beth to get down and pointed. 

Beth looked and her eyes popped! 

Jack and Marcia were lying in the soft grass, face to loins, partly on their 
sides. Marcia's long, slim legs were lewdly splayed open and her husband's 
face was buried in the soft curling triangle of her pale pubic hair, his 
long wet tongue sliding like a snake the full length of her dilating pussy 
as Marcia ground her self up to meet his lewd oral onslaught. 

At the same time, the sensuous blonde held her husband's long, meaty cock 
between the thumb and forefinger of her left hand at the base, aiming it at 
her obscenely gaping mouth. It glistened wetly with her saliva, and now her 
pink tongue was darting all around the darker knob, moistening it thoroughly 
as her lust-swollen lips rained hot wet kisses on it. Her other hand was 
playing with his cum-laden balls, rolling them between deft fingers. 

"Ohhhhh!" Beth whispered as she saw the unbelievable happen. Marcia's 
glistening lips opened wide to engulf the entire bulbous head of her 
husband's turgid cock, and her cheeks hollowed as she began to suck. And as 
she did, inch by tantalizing inch the heavy rod of male flesh disappeared 
into her wantonly ovaled lips until all but a fraction of an inch of the 
blood-engorged shaft was buried in her devouring oral cavity. As this 
happened, Jack Kimble increased the animal fury of his licking at his wife's 
golden cunt below. To the watching Beth Lansing, it seemed incredible that 
Marcia could go so far down, and absorb all her husband's cock into her 
eager mouth. It must be way past her tonsils, she thought why doesn't she 
choke and gag? She could hardly believe her eyes and murmured, "How can she 
do it?" 

"I told you everybody does it," Harry whispered. 

"I mean swallow so much of him." The shock was wearing off now and Beth felt 
a stirring of voyeuristic excitement in her loins. She knew it was wicked to 
watch such a lewd spectacle but couldn't tear her eyes away. "How does she 
breathe?" 

"Through her nose, dummy." Harry said with a soft chuckle. "And it looks 
like she's had a lot of practice. Jack's hinted they have some pretty torrid 
sessions." 

As the oral lovemaking went on and on, Beth got the impression that this 
happened often and was a source of sensual delight to both, something they 
liked to prolong. For every few minutes Jack would stop licking his blonde 
wife's wide-stretched pussy and Marcia would release his captive hardness 
from her mouth and they'd whisper something, a joke maybe and then return to 
their languorous game of sixty-nine. Gradually the pace picked up, with 
Jack's tongue flicking and stabbing deep into the wetly yielding cunt and 
his hips jerking as he began to fuck hard into Marcia's eager mouth. 

"Why the hell doesn't he cum?" Harry mused. "If I had lips like that clamped 
around my prick 

I'd have shot off long ago." 

In another time and place, Beth would have been hurt and angered by such a 
comment, but she was caught up in the turid tableau and found herself 
wondering the same thing. Then suddenly Marcia was bucking and jerking, her 
pussy thrusting against the wetly delving tongue, and she lifted her avid 
lips from the iron-hard cock and cried out softly as her long sleek legs 
locked tight around her husband's face and they could hear her crying, 
"More, more, MORE! Oh, Jack, eat meeee! Lick my cunt like crazy!" 

Jack Kimble had his strong hands cupping her quivering ass-cheeks now, 
pulling his wife's gushing pussy tighter and tighter to his face. The liquid 
sounds of his lips and tongue filled the quiet night air until finally, with 
a long sigh of relief, Marcia released him from the sweating grasp of her 
trembling thighs and fell back on the dew-drenched grass, legs wide open, 
her satiated cunt glistening in the moonlight. Jack's penis was still erect, 
throbbing wildly with his desire. 

Beth Lansing knew what she was doing was immoral, sinful even, but a team of 
oxen couldn't have dragged her away now. She had to see the ending. It was 
suddenly vital to her to see her neighbor cum in his wife's mouth, partly 
for the eroticism of it and partly because Beth was sure that some day soon, 
she was going to succumb to Harry's greatest desire and fellate him. He'd 
been wearing her down as dripping water wears away solid rock, and at the 
same time her own curiosity and obscene desire to experiment had been 
growing stronger. So far he'd only begged her to kiss the tip, but she knew 
that once past the soft portal of her pursed lips, Harry would want to 
explode his semen in her mouth, and she wanted urgently to see if this was a 
difficult thing for a woman to take. 

But she was disappointed, because Jack Kimble had apparently enjoyed as much 
of Marcia's eager oral cavity as he wanted for the moment. He slapped her 
playfully on the buttocks and she rolled over, getting up on her hands and 
knees, spreading herself and bowing her back so the lust-swollen lips of her 
pussy made a wet, open target. Jack knelt behind her, grasping her 
voluptuously weaving hips, and positioned the tip of his blood-engorged cock 
between the curly blonde hairs of the fleshy furrow. With one lunge that 
almost sent his wife forward on her face, he rammed far up into her 
impatiently waiting cunt, his balls slapping wetly against her writhing 
buttocks. Then he was jackhammering in and out of her eager flesh while 
Marcia chanted her delight. Her pale hair flashing in the moonlight as she 
tossed her head, she cried out her pleasure. Her pointed breasts swung and 
jiggled and her beautiful face became a mask of lust as she wildly screwed 
back to meet the invading cock. 

"Uuuuuggghhhh! Aaaahhhhh!" she moaned. "Oh fuck me! Jack . . . Jack . . . 
FUCK ME UNTIL I DROP!" 

Like a pile driver, Jack's cudgel reamed the wetness of his wife's steaming 
pussy. He hoped and so did Marcia that Beth and Harry were out there lurking 
wide-eyed in the bushes. Obviously they'd wanted to knock off a little 
themselves, but had been restrained, afraid of being observed. Or at least 
Beth would have been. He doubted Harry would give a damn. Jack and Marcia 
had deliberately prolonged things, staying awake, not giving Harry and Beth 
a chance to fuck without fear of being observed. So he was damn sure that 
when they slipped out of their sleeping bag and headed for the pond, that 
they were followed. Indeed, he was certain he'd seen at least one figure 
flitting like a goddamn Indian from shadow to shadow. 

Jack and Marcia had put in a lot of time on serious discussion of just how 
far they should go this time. Do everything, or just enough to tease and 
arouse? They had agreed that too much too soon could be bad. Instead of each 
taking the other orally in separate sessions, sixty-nine seemed like a 
better idea, and then a straight fuck, dog-fashion. The notion of sodomy was 
shelved. Considering Beth's strait-laced small town upbringing, the shock of 
seeing Marcia turning on as she got screwed in the ass might well send Beth 
running down the road never to return. They'd bring her to it in time, they 
assured each other, but it would take a little patience. 

Although Jack Kimble prided himself on the length of time he could stay hard 
in a hot wet cunt, he was getting close to the edge, he knew. Judging from 
the position of the moon, he'd been fucking Marcia for at least an hour with 
his tongue and his cock. Even though she was his wife and they were used to 
each other, there was never any boredom with her feverish body that looked 
so cool at other times, and now his cock seemed to have needles stinging it 
as Marcia's vaginal muscles sucked and teased around its rigid length. 

"Jeez . . . I can't keep it up!" Jack panted. "I'm going to pop any minute." 

"Oooohhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Yessssss!" Marcia groaned in ecstasy. "Fuck me hard! 
Fill my pussy with your hot cum!" 

Violently, grasping the churning buttocks with both powerful hands, Jack 
pistoned in and out of the clutching cunt, his balls slapping heavy against 
the widespread thighs that glistened with a mingling of his own saliva and 
Marcia's sweet, thick cum. 

"Now! Now! Oooohhhh . . . Jack . . . I'm cumming again!" Marcia cried out as 
her loins began spasming wildly, spewing her hot juices, and his plunging 
cock made it squirt out of her to soak his matted pubic hair. 

At the same instant, his penis swelled in the tight wet confines of Marcia's 
vagina and in great spurts his boiling cum squirted into the depths of her 
clutching belly. She was writhing in lust, her cuntal muscles milking his 
rampaging staff as she lifted her head and keened an animal sound of 
satiation. Slowly, then, the blonde sank to the soft mat of grass and lay 
hardly moving except for gentle, trembling undulations of her slender body 
as her burly husband lay atop her, his slowly softening cock still buried to 
the hilt in her twitching pussy. 

As though hypnotized, Harry and Beth remained in their place of concealment 
even after the other couple rose and departed in the .direction of the camp. 
Without realizing it, Beth had sometime during the obscene spectacle clasped 
her husband's cock tight, and only became conscious of the fact when Harry 
said, "It's our turn now. Anything they can do, we can do better." 

"Ohhhh, yes!" Beth said impulsively, but immediately had a second thought. 
"But Harry if we do, they'll see we're not in the sleeping bag. Maybe 
they'll sneak down here and spy on us!" 

"Right now I don't give a damn," Harry retorted. 'They're back there by now 
and can see we're off somewhere. Anyway, I expect they're both too fucked 
out to give a damn what we do. Come on!" 

Beth allowed herself to be led to the shore of the pond and thought, This 
could be it! Harry had said anything the Kimbles could do they could do 
better. Did that mean he expected her to finally have oral sex? She knew 
he'd sensed the excitement in her when she unblushingly watched Jack and 
Marcia in their leisurely sixty-nining. 

Damn it! the dark-haired young wife said to herself. She had to end the 
torture, no matter at what expense to her own psyche. This time she would 
not resist . . . she would suck her husband's cock, and now the little pink 
tip of her tongue slithered wetly over her sensuous lips, making them 
glisten as she sank down on the soft carpet of grass like a maiden being 
readied for a pagan sacrifice. She fully expected Harry to lie in the 
opposite direction and guide her unresisting mouth to the burgeoning head of 
his cock, and she was fully resigned to compliance. The thought of his long 
hot tongue burrowing into her fleshy cuntal furrow was another shocker, but 
the act had obviously given Marcia so much lewd pleasure that Beth was 
looking forward to it with a tingle of guilt-ridden excitement. 

Harry was standing over her, then kneeling, lowering himself to the grass. 

And with almost a twinge of disappointment, she saw he wasn't going to do it 
after all! Damn, now that she'd worked up her courage and released her 
hidden desires for oral sex, Harry was reading her all wrong. He was bending 
over her, kissing her soft moist lips as he always had, slipping his tongue 
into the saliva-filled cavern of her mouth while his strong fingers played 
with her breasts and stroked the smooth softness of her belly and then moved 
lower, his fingers parting the pulsing edges of her pussy to manipulate her 
throbbing clitoris. Ardently, Beth returned his caresses, fondling his 
cum-inflated testicles and slowly pumping the loose foreskin up and down his 
desire-swollen penis. 

Oh hell, Beth thought miserably. Here I am all built up for it and for once 
he doesn't try. She debated in her mind whether to make some sort of 
overture herself. But how? Whisper the lewd suggestion in his ear? Kiss him 
teasingly and gradually work her way down his lean body until her avid mouth 
was so close to his loins that his hand would come down on the back of her 
head and try to guide her mouth to his cock and this time find only token 
resistance or none at all. 

Beth realized she was not that bold yet, and that the way she'd bitten Harry 
before had effectively discouraged him. A hell of a note! When he wanted to, 
she'd fought like a tigress to preserve her morals and self-respect. Now 
that she was aroused and wanted him in her mouth, he was afraid to try, and 
she was too shy. Damned communications gap! 

But then her troubled thoughts vanished as Harry rolled on top of her, his 
hands closing hard on her breasts, squeezing them. Beth let her legs fall 
open and deftly guided his rock-hard penis to the wetly flowering lips of 
her cunt, rubbing it up and down the silken-fringed slit, stimulating her 
already aroused clitoris. Finally, she led it to the entrance to her cuntal 
passage and thrust upward. Her legs clamped tight around her husband's back 
as, with one powerful lunge, he slammed into her soft, supple flesh, making 
it ripple and roll ahead of the bluntly plundering head of his male flesh. 
His balls smacked wetly on her wantonly spread ass-cheeks, and Beth groaned 
a sigh of satisfaction and desire as the long, blood-swollen penis began to 
rip and plunge into her spasming young pussy. 

Overhead, the moon was so bright it almost hurt her eyes. Harry's muscular 
chest was flattening her up-thrust breasts, making her sensation-stiffened 
nipples tingle. She gave herself willingly to animal lust, fucking up to 
meet each driving stroke, feeling her moist inner flesh being drawn through 
the ragged lips of her pussy on each out-stroke, then jammed back deep 
inside her straining loins as Harry lunged furiously into her writhing, 
wanting body. 

Beth found that her voyeurism had heightened her feelings of sensuality. She 
could never remember a fuck that was as arousing as this one, and she found 
herself clawing Harry's heaving back, her heels drumming on his hard-muscled 
buttocks, urging him on to greater efforts. She bit his shoulders and 
passionately kissed him, time after time, sucking his swirling tongue as if 
it were a little prick invading her passionate mouth, and she chanted a 
litany of lust. 

"Oooooohhh . . . Harry . . . so gooooddd! Do it to me, darling, harder . . . 
harder . . . way up in my pussy . . . Ooooohh . . . fuck me! FUCK MEEEEE!" 

Never before had the writhing, thrashing young brunette used that lewd word, 
even in their most passion-driven moments, but now it slipped from her 
slavering lip's unbidden the only word which expressed what she needed more 
than anything. Harry was panting with each wild, lunging impalement of his 
wife's sweating body, and Beth's clitoris was tingling like an electric 
current was passing through it. 

"I'm cuuummmingg!" she cried out, feeling his lust-bloated rod of male flesh 
surge deep in her twitching, grinding belly. Then, remembering the 
humiliating but highly effective position Harry had forced her into when he 
was punishing her, Beth unlocked her tightly clamped legs from his back and 
drew them up until her smooth knees framed her lust-contorted face. She 
arched her back up off the grass, offering the wide-open plane of her loins 
to the plundering cock and YES! It was going deeper into her yearning pussy 
this way, the head slamming wildly against the mouth of her womb as his 
balls slapped against the drum-tight cheeks of her lewdly splayed buttocks. 
Her head rolling from side to side, dark hair spraying out over the damp 
grass, Beth felt the mounting tide of orgasm sweep through her, the hot 
flowing of her cuntal juice soaking their tightly joined genitals. 
"Eeeeeyyyaaahhh!" 

It was so wantonly wild, so beautiful. And Harry wasn't done yet. He 
continued to fuck his passionate wife, loving the way she rolled her 
smoothly rounded buttocks and how her cum-slick pussy grabbed his cock and 
refused to let it go. Beth lost track of the orgasms . . . it seemed to be 
just one continuous eruption in her spasming loins until finally Harry's 
cock swelled and hardened, the pistoning head ballooning, stretching her 
tender pussy to the utmost, and then came the sweet hot flood of his semen 
squirting into her welcoming belly like water from a high-pressure fire 
hose. Moaning her lewd pleasure, Beth again locked her long, sweat-gleaming 
legs around Harry and held him prisoner until she could no longer feel his 
softened organ in her satiated cunt. 

"Wild . . . far out!" Harry panted, holding her nakedly trembling body 
tight. "You came like Niagara!" He chuckled softly as she released him, and 
he rolled from her sweating body and said, "If you're this hot all the time, 
I don't care if you never go down on me." 

As she rose from the matted grass in an almost inaudible whisper, Beth said, 
"You should have asked me." 

"What?" Harry asked. He had heard only a mumble. 

"Oh, nothing," Beth said. She ran her fingers over the full length of her 
satiated body. Every tiny nerve seemed to be on end, and she could smell the 
rich scent of their sex despite the woods smells. Strings of whitish cum 
were trailing from her pussy down the inside of her legs, and her thighs 
were sticky with it. She said, "We can't go back this way. We've got to wash 
a little." 

"That's ice water, but you're right," he agreed. 

Hand in hand, they waded into the shallow pond, goose bumps instantly 
covering their superheated flesh. Beth couldn't resist squealing as Harry 
splashed her, and she returned the favor, and soon they were bowling each 
other over, laughing and freezing at the same time, and it was likely that 
no living creature within a mile remained asleep. Certainly Jack and Marcia 
Kimble were not asleep. They had doubled back and watched everything, 
smiling at their evident progress. Beth was obviously losing her 
inhibitions. They hurried back to their sleeping bag and were sitting up in 
it when Beth and Harry came up the path, their naked bodies glistening with 
droplets of water. Exhilarated, Beth made no effort to hide her milk-white 
nakedness, something she would have made haste to do only a couple of hours 
earlier. 

But, being out on this beautiful night, so close to nature, having furtively 
watched the lurid coupling of Jack and Marcia and then wildly fucking with 
Harry, had broken another bond, and the lovely long-legged girl felt no 
embarrassment as she strolled to her sleeping bag and lit cigarettes for 
herself and Harry. 

"We thought," Jack Kimble said with a grin, "that somebody was killing 
tigers from the sounds." 

"Midnight swim . . . ohhh, chilly!" Beth said, blowing smoke from her 
nostrils. She was aware of the way Jack's eyes were appraising her 
statuesque body, lingering on the full thrust of her naked breasts, the 
wetly tangled mass of dark pubic hair and the curvaceous taper of her legs. 
Wantonly, she found it flattering rather than disturbing, and even his 
knowing grin at her reply didn't disturb her in the slightest. The two 
couples chatted as the cigarettes burned down and the night air dried them, 
and then they said good night as Beth and Harry slipped into their sleeping 
bag. 

Harry snuggled close and said with a chuckle, "Jack won't be able to close 
his eyes the rest of the night." 

"Oh?" Beth said, not comprehending. 

"They popped too far out of his head when he got a look at you." 

"I I don't know why we didn't sneak the long way around through the bushes 
but I'm sort of glad we didn't. Do you mind him seeing me like that?" 

"It would have been worse if you'd tried to cover yourself." 

"I suppose," Beth agreed. She lay back as his hand moved to the juncture of 
her thighs and cupped her still-tingling pussy. She looked up at the stars 
and moon and said, "It must be the full moon. It does things to people, you 
know. Tonight I was a real wanton." 

"I know," her husband said. "I enjoyed." 

Harry fell silent then, pondering her words. Beth had never referred to 
herself as wanton before. Was there a hidden meaning there, he wondered. Was 
she unconsciously hinting that -if he had urged her she might have given him 
her mouth? Damn, he wished he'd tried. Looking back, it seemed Beth had been 
ready for just about anything. 

Well, it was too late now, and the dawning sun would no doubt cleanse the 
wanton thoughts from her mind. Damn, he must make it a point to bring her up 
here again. On the next full moon. Alone. 

* * * 

For some weeks, events continued in a way which pleased Jack and Marcia 
Kimble, although the cat and mouse game, the waiting was getting on Marcia's 
nerves. It was her option that Beth and Harry were ready for initiation into 
the delights of swapping, but her husband still cautioned patience. Much of 
her eagerness came from the fact that she was now in close daily contact 
with Beth Kimble. They shopped together, visited back and forth, rode their 
bikes, and in general, could count on spending several hours a day in each 
other's company. 

Marcia was afraid that such closeness would eventually make Beth tire of 
her, but it didn't seem to. Although Beth had many acquaintances in her own 
age group, she had few close friends, as most were tied down with small 
children and household chores and it was rare for them to be able to get 
away even for a lunch in Indian Springs. So Beth was glad to have a 
vivacious neighbor to help fill the hours which had been so boring. 

Jack had no such problem with Harry, as their separate business interests 
took care of all the time they had and more, and except for banking, the two 
hardly saw each other unless the couples got together for cocktails before 
dinner at one house or the other. 

The spare tire quickly disappeared from Harry's waist as he religiously rode 
his bike at least an hour a day. He was pleased with his new endurance and 
muscle tone. 

The bikes filled their once dull weekends. Twice they went riding with the 
Lansings, and twice with the club, venturing farther each time. On one 
occasion they rode over a hundred miles to a national park where a panel 
truck had preceded them, and a full-fledged barbecue was held high in the 
redwoods. Some forty couples turned out for that one. 

Beth found sex getting better and better the rigorous exercise seemed to 
increase her appetite for it, and she discovered it was taken for granted 
that the couples, married and otherwise would indulge themselves on the 
trips according to their inclinations, seeking out secluded glades sometimes 
several couples in a group, she noted at first with dismay and then 
tolerance and nobody made anything of it. There were no smirks or ribald 
remarks or obscene speculations. It was just a natural thing. 

Beth and Harry did their full share, but Harry never tried to get her to 
fellate him, and the lovely brunette housewife likewise never had the almost 
uncontrollable urge to suck his long hot penis into her mouth again. 

Ironically, when the dramatic change in their lives came, it was not on a 
bike trip but next door to their home, at the Kimble place. 

It was a three-day holiday weekend, and the two couples had agreed it would 
be suicide to ride with all the traffic that would be on the highways. It 
wouldn't even be worthwhile to get in the Kimble Cadillac and drive over the 
mountains to the shore, as the beaches would surely be out of sight under 
the press of humanity. So they decided to stay at home and hold a party for 
the duration. 

Jack and Harry both had the twitches by the time they arrived, which was 
after eight o'clock. This was a result of Harry's end-of-summer burst of 
selling. He had wanted to clear the lot of as many camping trailers, 
motorcycles, boats and whatever else could be moved as possible, for with 
the vacation period over, sales were bound to drop off, and he didn't want 
to be stuck with a lot of units through the slow fall and winter months. It 
cost him money each day they sat there, as he had to pay bank interest, and 
also it was necessary to make room for next year's models. 

The response to his advertising surprised even him, and for four days he'd 
spent a lot of time driving between the lot and the bank, sheaves of sales 
contracts in his briefcase. A lot of money was involved, but also each sale 
required numerous forms, and the two men found themselves bleary-eyed from 
the paperwork. 

After showering and changing to sports clothes, Harry went over to the 
Kimbles where Beth was waiting, a vodka martini in her hand. She looked good 
enough to eat with her dark hair tied back with a yellow ribbon, her firm, 
wide-set breasts thrusting invitingly at the thin fabric of her bolero 
blouse, the little nipple points sharply outlined. She wore skin-tight 
hot-pants that were cut so daringly that it showed the contours of her pussy 
and some of the softly curling dark hairs which fringed it. Marcia was 
dressed almost as daringly in a micro-mini that was to Harry's lewdly gazing 
eyes, as flimsy as gauze. She greeted him warmly and thrust a drink into his 
hand as Jack, a bourbon and water in hand, came from the house to join them. 

On an electric rotisserie, a seven-rib roast of prime beef was slowly 
turning, sizzling, filling the air with its hunger-inducing aroma. Potatoes 
wrapped in foil were ready to be buried in the ashes of an oak wood fire. 
The woman had tossed a massive green salad and a clear bouillon soup was 
chilling in the refrigerator. 

"When will you want to eat?" Marcia asked. 

"Eat, hell," Jack exclaimed. "Midnight sounds good. Right now, we're gonna 
get snockered. Harry and I have about gone fruity the last four days. You'll 
be rich widows. Jesus, what a load of paper we handled!" 

"The goddamned lot is barren," Harry put in. "Christ, we've been too busy to 
even fuck!" 

Beth blushed but suddenly realized it was true! For almost a week her 
husband had tumbled into bed, exhausted at the end of a twelve hour business 
day. His arms had gone around her as always when she got into bed, but by 
the time she was comfortably snuggled up to his big body, he was snoring. 
Marcia only chuckled with a promise of making up for lost sex. 

The night darkened, and tiring of going to the house for liquor, Jack 
trundled bottles and otheringredients out on a cart and parked it by the 
edge of the pool. The mood became more and more jovial, and lying on the air 
mattresses, what little formality remained between the couples dissipated. 
Beth, who was not much of a drinker, began to feel light-headed, and she was 
hardly shocked when she looked up to see Harry bending over Marcia and 
bringing his open mouth down on hers. Their lips pressed tight and worked on 
each other, and one of Harry's hands was now cupping Marcia's breast, 
squeezing it. 

"Hey, how about that?" Jack said softly into her ear. His hand dropped to 
her leg and slowly began to rub upward toward her belly, but Beth found 
herself strangely undisturbed and didn't move to stop him. "Think they've 
got something going?" 

"Looks that way," Beth giggled and said with alcoholic wisdom, "Suppose 
we're the last to know?" 

"Sauce for the goose," Jack said and kissed her. Beth parted her lips, drew 
his spearing tongue deep into her mouth and lay back, her hands running 
through Jack's curly dark hair. She could feel the animal strength of the 
man, and a surge of wanton desire wracked her loins. Damn it, it had been 
almost a week. Well, she'd fix that as soon as she was alone with Harry. Let 
Marcia get him hot she was taking him home! 

Now she moaned with mounting desire under the skilled mouth of Jack Kimble. 
She felt his hand slide upward under the bottom of her bolero and begin to 
fondle her breasts, tweaking the nipples to hardness, rolling the resilient 
mounds in his powerful fingers. Against her quaking belly she felt the 
rigidity of his male member and couldn't resist reaching for it and grasping 
the throbbing length through his thin summer slacks. God! If anything, if 
felt thicker than Harry's! Into her mind's eye flashed the memory of Jack 
and Marcia lying by the pond and Marcia wildly swallowing all of it and 
moaning in delight. How did she ever manage? 

"Take it out if you want," Jack whispered against her soft mouth. "Hold it." 

"Oooohhh . . . Nooooo . . . " Beth mumbled. A few kisses and letting him 
touch her breasts was one thing. But to grasp his bare penis in her 
trembling fingers was definitely another. Yet she barely resisted when his 
hand came down, and she heard the soft whisper of his zipper. He guided her 
hand inside and pressed it around the length of his rigid cock. Beth wanted 
to jerk her hand back out, but the magnetism was too strong. She found 
herself slowly pumping his hardening cock as he kissed her and then drew her 
bolero's loose neckline low, baring her left breast, and his hot mouth 
closed on the tender bud of her nipple and began to suck as his teeth teased 
it lightly. A few feet away she could see the sprawled figures of Harry and 
Marcia. Now Marcia's brief dress was pushed up over her hips, and Harry's 
fingers were stroking at her pussy, working in and out of the fleshy 
blonde-curled flesh in a teasing, seductive way. Marcia's bikini panties 
were pulled low on her hips, and her loins undulated lewdly up on Harry's 
bold searching fingers. The blonde's eyes were closed, and there was a 
rapturous smile on her lust-swollen lips as slowly she reached down and 
peeled her panties completely off, parting her long slender legs. 

My God! Beth thought with dismay. He's going to fuck her! My husband is 
going to fuck Jack's wife, and both of us right here, close enough to touch 
them! She knew she should jump up and stop the obscene spectacle, but her 
amazement at their boldness froze her like a statue as she saw Harry's 
middle finger disappear into the soft folds of Marcia's lubricious cunt and 
begin to fuck in and out of its hot, moist depths. Beth was too shocked to 
be angry, and the alcohol had dulled her senses, and now Jack was kissing 
her mouth again while his hand pried her trembling legs apart and tried to 
force the barrier of her hot-pants. But they were too tight a fit, and he 
contented himself with rubbing her aching pussy with the thin cloth 
separating his fingers from her steaming cuntal flesh. From the corner of 
her eye, Beth watched the others, wondering how much time would pass before 
Harry rolled over onto the groaning blonde and rammed his cock into her 
readily receptive pussy. 

Suddenly, Marcia gasped and trembled, her body jerking wildly as she rode 
her neighbor's plunging middle finger. She cried out softly, her head 
rolling from side to side, and then fell weakly back on the air mattress, 
spent. Beth saw Harry put his mouth against the blonde's ear and whisper 
something that made her languidly shake her head. Scowling, he withdrew his 
finger from her body and lay on his back beside her, his cock showing long 
and thick through his slacks. Marcia herself broke the tension a few minutes 
later. 

"Hey, I'm getting ravenous. I'm going to put the spuds in the ashes and in 
about two more drinks, everything will be ready." 

She sprang to her feet, not bothering to retrieve her panties, and busied 
herself at the barbecue. Beth, relieved that she wouldn't have to make a 
scene, disentangled herself from Jack, pushed his rock-hard cock back into 
his pants and zipped them closed. She could still sense the throbbing 
rigidity of his penis in her hand and wondered what she would have done if 
Harry had actually screwed Marcia right in front of her. Screamed and 
attacked them? Silently suffered the humiliation? Or given tit-for-tat and 
peeled off her hot-pants, welcoming Marcia's own husband into her own 
seething cunt? 

Well, the crisis was past. She reasoned that, as close as the couples had 
been lately, it was a wonder that something like this hadn't happened 
before. She could surely write part of it off to what they'd had to drink. 
And maybe, Beth rationalized, it was just as well that it had happened in 
these circumstances. Certainly it would be easy enough for Harry and Marcia 
to make an assignation at some discreet motel any time they wanted. But this 
episode so open made sneaking around unlikely, the dark-haired beauty 
concluded. So she would say nothing, make no scene. She wanted another 
drink, a good strong one this time. 

Three drinks went by before the sumptuous meal was ready, the prime rib 
carved, thick, blood rare. The beef almost melted in her mouth no restaurant 
could have served it in these days of the beef shortage, and she commented 
on it. 

"A rancher is trying to swing a million dollar loan to tide himself over 
until prices go up," Jack Kimble explained with a wink. "He thought I might 
appreciate some beef more than a box of cigars." 

They shamelessly stuffed themselves, and then the liqueurs and cognacs were 
brought into play. Like a big cat, Beth Lansing found herself drowsing as 
midnight passed, and she reclined on the mattresses, watching the trajectory 
of moon and stars as the others talked. Gradually, their voices seemed to 
draw farther and farther away, and she fell asleep. 

Some time later, she mumbled a protest as she felt hands caressing her, lips 
hot and wet on the up-thrust mounds of her proud breasts. Drowsily she 
responded, her hands slowly moving to caress Harry's head. And then she 
realized it wasn't Harry! Jack Kimble was looming over her, his tongue 
flicking her nipples to hardness, stirring sensual desire in her loins. 
Gradually, the events of the night came back to her sleep-befuddled brain, 
and she tried to rise, but his strong hands were holding her down, and now 
his wet mouth was on hers, his tongue slithering between her lips. For a 
minute, Beth tried to fight off her rising desire, but she yielded and 
returned his kiss with ardor. She writhed, and her entire body undulated 
like a restless sea, and when she heard the soft buzz of his zipper, she 
found her hand moving to his loins, and this time she took his lust-swollen 
penis out and shamelessly stroked it, running the thick foreskin up and down 
as his hands kneaded the springy mounds of her breasts, bringing them 
together and twisting them so one nipple rubbed the other. 

"Ooooohhh . . . Jack!" she cried out softly as her hand slid down the full 
length of his pulsating rod of flesh. In a moment of complete abandonment, 
Beth knew that if he moved to draw her hot-pants down the quivering length 
of her restlessly moving legs, she wouldn't try to stop him. She'd help him! 
But he was taking his time, slowly building the uncontrollable desire in her 
awakening body until Beth was sure that she would cum furiously the minute 
the bulbous head of the thick cock she was teasing wantonly with her groping 
fingers entered her lubricious vagina. 

Oh, God! How she wanted it! But Harry mustn't know . . . never! She twisted 
her head and looked around the moonlit grounds and saw no sign of her 
husband or Marcia! 

"Where are they?" the aroused brunette whispered urgently. 

"I think they went into the house . . . yeah, the light's on in the big 
bedroom. They're busy." 

The factual, cool way he replied shocked Beth; she blurted, "And you don't 
care?" 

"Not as long as I'm with you, Beth," he said calmly. "This has been building 
a long time. Might as well get it out of our systems." 

"Oh, Christ!" Beth said. "I don't believe it!" 

"Well, let's go see, then," he suggested. He helped the leggy young 
near-bride up, and cautioning her to silence, they made their way barefoot 
into the huge house and up to the second floor. 

The door to the whorehouse-styled bedroom was wide open, and a soft pink 
light from the chandelier illuminated the scene. 

Marcia Kimble reclined on the oversized bed, her buttocks resting on a fat 
pillow that raised her loins a foot from the bed. Between her sleek thighs 
Harry Lansing knelt. His thumbs spread the soft lips of the thrashing 
blonde's pussy wide, baring the coral-hued inner flesh that glistened with 
the dew of Marcia's vaginal secretions. As the shocked Beth watched, her 
husband's long red tongue lashed out and flickered up and down the length of 
the obscenely exposed cuntal furrow and twirled around the button of 
Marcia's swollen clitoris while the taffy-haired woman groaned in desire. 

Then Harry's face dipped closer, and his ravenous mouth closed on her 
dripping pussy, and his sucking and licking sounds filled the room while 
Marcia moaned and thrashed, rolling her smooth buttock cheeks on the scarlet 
pillow. She began to ram her mound up to the delving face of the dark-haired 
man, and her hands came down to grasp his head, fingers clutching his hair 
like talons. Her eyes were open and rolling in her head, and suddenly, she 
screamed through her passion-swollen mouth as she began to cum. The taste of 
her juices only drove Harry on to more obscene licking and sucking. Her long 
legs swung up and over his shoulders, holding his cum-glistening face tight 
as wave after wave of orgiastic pleasure rolled through Marcia's tensely 
bucking body. 

Stunned, Beth could only stare for what seemed like eternity. Then she 
whirled and ran silently down the carpeted hall, tears welling in her eyes 
as she whimpered, "Oooooh! My God" 

Close behind her came Jack Kimble. He was proud of Marcia. She had done 
everything exactly as they had so carefully planned. 

Now it was his turn. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Tears streaming from her eyes, the stunned young housewife stumbled blindly 
through the maze of rooms in the big house. She could only think of getting 
away from this perverted obscenity. It wouldn't have been so bad if she'd 
caught Harry screwing Marcia Kimble . . . Beth had subconsciously accepted 
that it would happen sooner or later, and the scene by the pool that night 
had confirmed her fears. That wouldn't have shaken her so. But to see her 
husband ravenously sucking and licking their neighbor's gushing cunt with 
its fringe of soft, wheat-colored curls had been traumatic. 

Her hair flowing behind her, Beth took a couple of wrong turns and suddenly 
found herself in the basement rumpus room, and she realized Jack Kimble was 
right behind her. He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, making her 
face him. Tears rolled wetly down her cheeks and Beth was sobbing. 

"Seeing something like that makes you flip?" he said gruffly. 

"But Jack . . . " Beth began to protest. "I know we all we all fooled around 
a little tonight. But I didn't think it would lead to that! Uuuugh!" 

"Oh, for Chrissakes," the stocky banker said, and steered her to the small 
bar, where he poured generous amounts of cognac into snifter glasses and 
then led her to a long, low sofa which had been retired from duty in the 
formal rooms of the house. He sat and drew the sniffling young wife down 
beside him and tried to put across the next line of the script he and Marcia 
had so carefully worked out. It must carry just the right mixture of 
compassion and rebuke. He went on, "Beth, a lot of the blame is yours. Oh, 
I'm not making excuses for Harry, but when you won't give him something he 
wants very much, and as your husband has a right to expect you'll at least 
try it to please him, then I can understand how he'd go to another woman." 

"But she's your wife!" Beth said, stunned that Jack wasn't enraged and 
seemed to be treating the matter so lightly. She gulped the cognac and felt 
it burn her throat. "Don't you care? " 

"Beth, Marcia and I have been married a lot longer than you and Harry. 
Neither of us would give up the other for anyone else. But we both 
discovered we needed variety, to add spice to our sex lives together. We 
know some other couples who feel the same. Sometimes they come to our house, 
or we go to theirs, and everything works out nicely. No sneaking around to 
motels or grabbing at quick, furtive matinees. We always go as a couple and 
there's no jealousy. No recriminations. And when we get home, we're wild for 
each other." 

"You're swappers!" Beth whispered, stunned at the truth. 

"Pretty girl, I know it's a shock, but life is better when you share. For 
instance, think how dull your weekends were before you took up biking. Same 
thing. Saturday mow the lawn and keep Harry stoked with beer. Sunday, a 
lonesome picnic. True or not?" 

"I I suppose you're right, as far as that goes, but this is a different 
bag," Beth protested. "My God! To think of Harry licking between Marcia's 
legs like an animal! Ooooooohhhh! I'd like to claw both of them to shreds." 

"But you were getting pretty warm with me out by the pool," Jack Kimble 
reminded Beth. "Tell the truth If I'd tried, I could have fucked you, 
couldn't I?" 

Suddenly Beth realized that the drawstring of her bolero neckline had 
loosened and the flimsy garment had slipped down, completely baring her 
young, pointed breasts. Now Harry put his hand on the right one and began to 
massage it and instead of trying to stop him, Beth felt the fires flaring in 
her belly again and abjectly nodded, admitting to the charge. 

"A lot of this is really your fault," Jack Kimble went on smoothly in his 
soft voice. "You wouldn't go down on Harry . . . you wouldn't let him do it 
to you. He's a hell of a virile guy, the kind of man who needs variety in 
his sex life. It isn't enough just to be beautiful and a good straight fuck, 
honey." 

"He, he told you things like that?" Beth mumbled, unbelieving. 

"Men compare notes just like you women. The air vent at the bank runs 
between the men's and women's toilets, and you should hear some of the 
adventures our demure little tellers and typists pass around. I've heard 
some things that made even me blink, and I don't blink easily." 

"Oh, Jesus," Beth moaned, her lower lip trembling. She was about to start 
crying again, but Jack's slick mouth came down on hers and the darting of 
his tongue between her teeth diverted her attention. Hungrily she clasped 
him to her, fitting her slender body to his stocky, muscular one and she no 
longer cared what happened. This time she took the initiative in opening his 
slacks and finding his ready spear of flesh. She felt his hand fumbling with 
the zipper at the side of her hotpants and put her own over it to stop him, 
but she gave his hand a little squeeze that told him it would be all right 
in a few minutes. She murmured, "Wait, Jack I want you to understand 
everything." 

Taking a generous sip of cognac, the aroused brunette nervously began to 
recount the most intimate details of her sex life with Harry. She didn't 
spare herself, and even to her own ears she sounded cold and prudish. She 
told him of almost kissing the beckoning head of her husband's cock and then 
chickening out. And later, while he was asleep, building up her courage and 
actually taking his flaccid member between her hesitant lips, only to be 
pushed away when Harry acted by reflex. She admitted spying on Jack and 
Marcia by the pond, and how it had thrilled her. 

"That's when you should have done it," Jack advised. 

"I I know." Beth felt herself blushing. "But I was afraid you and Marcia 
might have been in the bushes watching, the way we had. At that point in 
time, I didn't care if you caught us fucking.. . it would have been a sort 
of turnabout is fair play thing. But to get caught . . . " 

"With the meat in your mouth, so to speak?" Jack asked with a grin that was 
lewd and humor-filled at the same time. 

"To put it bluntly, yes!" Beth admitted, feeling the blood pulsing in her 
cheeks. 

"Well, now that things have reached this point, what do you think? How do 
you feel about it all?" 

"I'm hurt and I'm damn well furious, no matter how smooth your arguments 
are, Jack. I admit you're mostly right, but I'm still damn mad. It's 
adultery, and I'd like to beat Harry's ears in!" 

"That wouldn't do much good. It wouldn't purge you, Beth. Revenge in kind is 
the only thing that will do the job." 

"Wh . . . what . . . ? " she mumbled, not completely understanding. 

Harry's fingers zipped her shorts open and he moved away. Her arms were 
reluctant to release his male power. Beth's full breasts rose and fell in 
anticipation. No man but Harry had ever fucked her. Well, that was about to 
come to a screeching halt. She was suddenly eager. 

"Take off your clothes . . . everything," Jack commanded. 

Feeling a new brazenness come over her, seeing his thick cock jutting 
straight out from his pants, Beth complied. She stood and pulled the bolero 
shirt up over her head and then quickly bent to shed the skintight hot 
pants. With a surge of wantonness, she caressed the lush contours of her 
splendid body, running the tips of her fingers lewdly over the "vee" of her 
pubic mound, twirling the soft curly dark hairs. Then she cupped the rich, 
resilient mounds of her breasts with their coral-tinted nipples. She 
trembled in anticipation and the pink tip of her tongue wet her wide, full, 
passionate mouth. She lifted her arms and tossed her hair, freeing it in a 
dark shower that sprayed nearly to her waist. 

"Now undress me," Jack ordered in his persuasive voice. But he made no move 
to rise from the soft sofa, and Beth was forced to kneel before him. With 
shaking fingers, she unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it from his brawny 
shoulders and cast it aside. Feigning a boldness she didn't feel the aroused 
young wife fumbled with his belt and got his slacks open. He lifted his legs 
so she could remove the trousers, and afterwards, his jockey shorts. 

Jack made no move toward her. Instead, he lay back on the worn leather 
cushions, his legs spread obscenely open. So close up in the soft light, 
Beth gasped when she saw the true size of his penis. It looked like a full 
stick of Italian salami with the whitish covering stripped back and the 
bulbous head was tinted almost the same color as salami. It was aimed at her 
like a cannon. Trembling, she moved to straddle him as she had Harry that 
night, but firmly he pushed her back to her knees. 

"That wouldn't be revenge in kind," Jack said firmly. "You can get fucked 
any time you want by just about anybody you pick. You have to give Harry a 
taste of his own medicine." 

"Oooooooh . . . please . . . nooooooo!" Beth murmured, but she couldn't take 
her fascinated dark eyes from the pulsing rod of male flesh. She closed her 
eyelids tight but the vision was burned into her brain. The long, smooth 
thickly veined shaft emerging from the dark mass of curling pubic hair, and 
below it the football-shaped testicles in their hairy sac of wrinkled 
prune-skin. "Oh, Jack, I I I . . . " she stammered. 

"Think it over, Beth," he said coolly. "You told me how much you've been 
wanting to do it. With me it will be an impersonal thing that will give us 
both pleasure. You'll have your revenge, and you might find you like it very 
much." He took her hand and put it on his penis just below the lust-swollen 
head and made her squeeze. A tiny pearl-like bead of pre-seminal fluid 
appeared at the hole in the tip. Furiously Beth was debating within herself 
as he ordered, "Kiss and lick first, honey." 

Half-hypnotized by his melodious voice and the pulsating cock, Beth found 
herself crawling up between his legs, her head slowly lowering. She saw her 
mass of dark hair spreading over his muscular thighs, and then there was 
nothing in her field of vision except the lust-swollen cock-head and the 
blood-engorged shaft in her lewdly clutching fingers. Several times she 
worked the loose foreskin over the reddish-purple knob as her tongue 
nervously slithered back and forth across the full richness of her parted 
lips. 

Beth could no longer control herself. With a sigh of surrender she lightly 
brought her mouth down on the mushroom-shaped tip, wetly kissing it. It was 
so huge! Her jaw was certainly going to be dislocated she could never get it 
into her salivating mouth even though now an overwhelming urge to do just 
that was roaring through her subserviently kneeling body. 

Experimenting, she flicked the searching tip of her tongue into her pearl of 
milk-white fluid. It had an erotically arousing tang to it and unconsciously 
she hummed her surprise and pleasure. Pursing her moist, soft lips into a 
gentle "O", she parted them wide enough to admit half the bulbous head, and 
began to lick it with the flat of her tongue. Each wet sweep made her want 
to taste more of him, and straining, she got her adventuring mouth wide 
enough to engulf the entire warm, rubbery head. 

"Oooooh, nice . . . you've got a mouth soft as hot butter," Jack whispered. 

Beth raised her head and, as if it was very important, said seriously, "I've 
never done this before. Really I haven't. I don't know what to do next. Just 
suck?" 

"Oh, lots more than that," Jack Kimble said with a lewd smile. "I'll coach 
you, but I don't think you'll need much of that. Now, hold it by the base 
and lick all around the ridge with the tip of your tongue, like it was an 
ice-cream cone. Then tongue just below the head on the underside. That's the 
corona, very sensitive. Make like butterfly wings with your tongue all the 
way down to the base and over my balls. Then back up, nibbling like an ear 
of corn. Then you'll be ready to drive me wild. Go that far and I won't have 
to tell you anything else." 

"Do I suck hard, or.. . " the aroused brunette murmured. 

"Lightly . . . very lightly, until the very end." 

The very end, Beth thought. When you cum in my mouth! 

Slowly she began to follow the erotic stages her experienced partner had 
laid down for her. It was like licking an ice cream cone! Only no ice cream 
cone had ever been so warm and throbbing as this beautiful cock. At first 
she kept her eyes shut tight, ashamed to look at Jack's lewdly grinning 
face, but gradually Beth's inhibitions left her and she found herself 
dexterously applying her tongue to the pulsating member. She thrilled as she 
felt him jerk when the wet darting tip of her tongue first came in contact 
with the supersensitive corona. Then she opened her eyes. The expression of 
rapture on Jack Kimble's face was something to see! 

Tongue swirling wetly, her passion-swollen lips inched down the underside of 
his cock until she was nuzzling his semen-loaded balls. Without being told, 
she drew first one and then the other into her now avid mouth and rolled her 
tongue over them. The male scent of his loins was heady in her flaring 
nostrils. 

Becoming more and more wantonly aroused by the minute, the kneeling girl 
progressed at a tantalizingly slow pace, now wanting to prolong this sex 
play until she reached a point where she absolutely had to have the thick 
length of his penis jammed deep into her virgin mouth. Slavishly she licked 
and kissed and nibbled and then she could stand it no longer. She squeezed 
the blood-engorged member tightly. Her dark head dipped and suddenly the 
cock-head was forced deep beyond her straining lips. 

"Ummmmmmmmmmm . . . " Beth moaned, trying to breathe through her nostrils 
and almost choking. It seemed her mouth was filled to bursting with her 
neighbor's rock-hard male flesh. Yet she could see inches of it still 
protruding from her lust-twisted lips. She suddenly had to have all of it! 
With a groan of desire she worked her head from side to side, trying to get 
more and more of the delicious penis into the saliva-filled cavity of her 
yearning mouth. It was pressing against the back of her mouth now and she 
sucked tentatively. The outline of the fleshy rod was sharp against her 
in-drawn cheeks. In measured rhythm, Beth began to bob her head up and down 
over Jack's trembling loins, her tongue swirling around the bulbous head and 
thick shaft. Her mouth and throat muscles began to relax, accepting the 
tree-like intrusion. Harder and harder she drove her wild mouth up and down 
until finally, with a supreme effort, she felt the smooth rubbery head surge 
past her tonsils and deep into her throat. Her nose was deep in Jack's pubic 
hair. For a minute she remained immobile, savoring her triumph. 
"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" 

Beth was sure she'd gag and choke but somehow she didn't. She had never felt 
anything quite like having her mouth and throat stuffed with this 
lust-hardened cock. Slowly, her mouth contorted by the massiveness of it, 
she began to work her lips up and down. She experimented with her tongue, 
finding new and different ways to eagerly devour the deliciously hot penis. 
In the distance, above her head, she could hear Jack groaning with pleasure. 

Her dark hair flying with the wild bobbing of her head, Beth Lansing lost 
track of time. Her entire world was the penis in her avid lips, and now she 
was squeezing the cum-laden balls so hard that Jack had to plead with her to 
be more gentle. Then she was aware of an incredible further hardening and 
swelling of the deeply embedded shaft of maleness and it began to jerk. 

At that instant Jack cried out and his hands were on her head, pulling it up 
until little more than the bulbous head remained in her obscenely sucking 
lips as his hot cum began to squirt and gush, splashing against the roof of 
her mouth, then pouring in a steaming hot sweet stream down her convulsing 
throat to form a warm liquid pool in her heaving belly. Beth sucked 
furiously and swallowed in great gulps as droplets of the thick whitish 
fluid escaped the corners of her tightly compressed lips. She groaned in 
ecstasy as she drank down her hard-earned reward, wondering if he'd ever 
stop cumming. But eventually she drained his thrusting loins. Tenderly she 
began to lick his rod of flesh clean, not wanting to lose a single delicious 
drop of the life-giving semen. Finally there was just no more and with a 
sigh of regret she released the now limp organ and straightened up, still 
remaining on her knees. Her passion-swollen lips glistened silver with his 
cum and she slowly licked them with her weary tongue. The richness of his 
massive ejaculation lingered in her mouth. She fell forward weakly as Jack 
pulled her into his arms and began to kiss her, exploring her hot mouth with 
his tongue while his hand roved over her sweating buttocks. 

"My God!" he breathed. "I've never run into talent like that even Marcia, 
and I thought she was the best." 

"I guess I've been missing a lot," Beth replied, almost shyly. She felt 
hardly a twinge of guilt and was actually glad it had happened the first 
time with Jack Kimble. Suppose she had yielded to Harry first and instead of 
it being a lewd, wanton delight it had been a complete fiasco? It would just 
have been another barrier between them. A failure with Jack wouldn't have 
mattered. But now Beth knew she was free to give her husband the kind of 
loving he wanted. "It was beautiful, Jack!" 

"You should have been on my end," he quipped. "Did you cum?" 

"Me? I didn't know I could that way. And I was pretty busy . . . too busy to 
think of myself." 

"You'll find ir happens," he forecast. "Still mad at Harry?" 

"I don't care if Harry eats Marcia to the bone," Beth said with a wicked 
chuckle. "How about another cognac? And then maybe we can find a bedroom, 
although I guess there's not much left of the night." 

* * * 

Unknown to Beth, her husband and Marcia had exhausted each other and gone 
exploring through the rambling split-level. He had no idea where Beth and 
Jack might be, and now that his lust was expended, he began to feel nervous. 
What if for some reason they'd come to the upper floor and Beth got a 
glimpse of him eating Marcia's pale-tufted pussy. Wow! The shit would hit 
the fan and he'd be standing in front of it. No, it couldn't have happened, 
he reassured himself. Beth was ordinarily subservient to his wishes, but on 
some occasions he'd seen her turn into a wildcat, and a session like he'd 
just been through with the oversexed blonde would qualify as just such an 
event. 

Naked, he and Marcia searched the house, and the rumpus room was the last 
place they looked. They heard what was happening before they reached the 
partly open door and surreptitiously peered in. 

Jack gasped and reeled back, unbelieving. Kneeling like a slave between Jack 
Kimble's widespread legs, his own wife was eagerly and gluttonously sucking 
Jack's cock! Doing just the thing Harry had begged her to do for him so many 
times! And obviously loving every thick inch of it. Damn, she was gulping 
the whole thing down like she was starving, her dark hair flaring, her 
cheeks hollowing and ballooning with her oral rape of the banker. Her 
fingers were juggling his oversize balls and her moans of ecstasy could 
clearly be heard in the hallway. The expression on Beth's beautiful face was 
something Harry had never seen. Feral, savage. Her nostrils flared like 
those of a mare in heat. 

"That fucking cock-sucking cunt!" he hissed between clenched teeth. Rage 
swept through him and he moved as if to burst into the room and tear them 
apart, smash Beth's beautiful face, pulp her betraying mouth. "How could she 
do this to me? " 

Marcia had to stifle a laugh as she quickly caught Harry's arm and pulled 
him back. Although he resisted, he allowed himself to be led upstairs to the 
den, where Marcia mixed stiff drinks for both of them. He drained his in two 
throat-searing gulps and held out his glass for a refill. 

"How could she?" he kept muttering. 

Marcia could hardly stop from breaking into hysterical laughter as Harry 
built up his role of injured innocence. Finally she said, "Lover, they 
caught us." 

"Huh!" 

"When you were going down on me, really giving me your tongue . . . we 
forgot to close the door, remember? The two of them suddenly popped up 
there. You couldn't see them from your position. I suppose Beth was just 
getting even." 

"Jesus Christ! Why didn't you tell me?" the tall dark-haired salesman 
exploded. Now he wanted to hit Marcia! "Oh, shit!" 

"Harry, it wouldn't have done any good at all. The damage was done. There 
might have been a fight, even," the tall blonde said in a cool voice. "Calm 
down. Let's go back to bed." Her smoky eyes moved to his flaccid cock. "You 
did me beautifully, but I haven't returned the favor." 

"Beth sucks Harry and you suck me and that evens things all around, I 
suppose," he retorted, still bitter and feeling horns growing from his 
forehead. "After what I saw, I don't think I can even get it up. I've got to 
cool off." 

"Come on," the taffy-haired woman urged, a lewd smile on her sensuous lips. 
"I know something even better than sucking. Something really nasty that will 
blow your mind." 

"Like what?" he retorted in a sour tone. 

"Like fucking me in the ass," Marcia whispered. 

He could only stare in disbelief. He'd heard a lot of guys talk about it, 
but he himself had never sodomized a girl and he wasn't sure the idea 
appealed to him. Yet his penis was rising, becoming rampant just at the 
obscene thought. Then Marcia turned her back and rubbed against his loins. 
Her hand reached back to encircle his cock and draw it between her smoothly 
rounded ass-cheeks and she humped back at him, letting 

Harry feel the warm slickness of her anal region. His member suddenly became 
rock-hard and he thrust at her, feeling the bulbous head target on her tight 
anus for an instant before slipping away, down into the juncture of her 
thighs. 

Marcia giggled and ducked out of his grasp, saying, "Not standing up. Come 
on back to bed." 

Once back in the scarlet room, Marcia lubricated her anus with the jelly and 
then knelt, this time with the thick pillow under her hips and her perfectly 
sculpted ass-cheeks spread wide in obscene invitation. Harry looked at the 
impossibly small ring of pink flesh that was her anus, and he was sure he 
could never get his big cock into anything so small. 

"It's tight that's what makes it so good." Impatiently the lust-filled 
blonde began to rotate her hips. "Come on!" 

Trembling like a schoolboy, Harry knelt in between her widespread thighs. He 
positioned himself, and when the head of his searching cock first 
encountered the tight elastic ring of her anus, he was sure the whole thing 
was impossible. But with a sigh of obscene desire. Marcia raised to meet his 
steady thrust. 

Then his rock-hard erection breached the barrier and he was drilling far up 
into the incredibly tight, warm, juicy depths of Marcia's squirming rectum. 
He was sure he must be splitting her apart, but she gave no sign of feeling 
pain except to hold her breath until his cock was buried to the hilt, and 
then she began to hump her buttocks demandingly up to him and hum with 
pleasure as he slowly drove in and out of her hot, yielding body. 

Well, one more time when a woman was right and he was wrong, Harry thought 
as he embarked on his first experience in sodomy. The blonde's slim hips and 
voluptuously contoured buttocks were thrashing and she was crying out her 
pleasure at the deep, reaming impalement as Harry slid a hand down her 
trembling flanks and then to her juicy pussy, manipulating her sensitive 
clitoris until Marcia screamed with wanton pleasure . . . 

* * * 

Both Harry and Beth dreaded the prospect of their meeting at a late 
breakfast. What could they possibly say to each other? Each carried guilt 
and anger and a sense of betraying and having been betrayed. They were 
walking on eggs. 

In contrast, the Kimbles seemed to think nothing of the night's excursions 
into debauchery. 

"Harry, we've got to talk," Beth said hopefully at a moment when they found 
themselves alone. "What happened to us?" 

"This isn't the time or place," he said curtly. 

"Then I think we should go home." 

"Not yet," Harry declared. "We're still too shook up." 

The opportunity for a confrontation was unexpectedly removed through a 
telephone call for Harry. It was from a single salesman who was working the 
lot over the holiday weekend. He had tried Harry's home and usual hangouts 
and finally thought he might be at the Kimble place. Harry could hardly 
believe his ears at the tale which was related. 

"Who? He wants to buy what?" Harry stammered. "Cliff, if you're drunk . . . 
okay, you don't drink . . . what? Oh, he's trying it out . . . Not a road 
test. . .he's fucking the chick in it!" Harry wiped his brow and blinked in 
amazement. "Yeah, he's kookie enough, I hear. Well, hold onto the son of a 
bitch. I'll be there in a half-hour." 

With a dazed look on his face, Harry turned to Jack and said, "You'd better 
come with me. There's the craziest deal of the year cooking." 

"I got that impression. What is it?" Jack asked. 

"Well, you know that white elephant of a motor home, the special job the 
factory stuffed down my throat. Thirty-three thou? Well, it seems a certain 
nut head TV star spotted it and wants to buy it. And he's trying it out. The 
road test involves banging his chick in it. On my lot!" 

"It sounds like a put-on," the banker said. 

"Hell, the guy's got a five-million-dollar private jet, a yacht worth a 
quarter of a mil. I'm going to run a razor over my jaw and change clothes. 
See you in ten minutes." 

He almost ran from the house. Shaking his head, Jack Kimble also went to 
freshen up. Minutes later they were breaking the speed limit on the road to 
Indian Springs. 

Left alone with Marcia, Beth found herself emotionally drained. She thought 
of all the wrong, depraved things she had done and tried to rationalize, 
telling herself she had been innocently led into the disgusting situation. 
But a persistent conscience kept nagging, you enjoyed it you wanted it you 
were a hypocrite and you 're still a hypocrite! 

The troubled young wife mixed herself a powerful vodka and orange juice, got 
a pack of cigarettes and retreated to the side of the pool, trying to sort 
out her confused thoughts. After a time Marcia came out and stretched on a 
chaise lounge opposite her. She was grinning. 

"Hating yourself in the morning, baby?" the tousle-haired blonde asked. 

"I'm hating everybody particularly you!" 

Beth snapped. She had to restrain herself from hurling her drink into the 
beautiful mocking face. "How could you? HOW COULD YOU?" 

"My God, I thought you were more grown up than this. We did you and Harry a 
favor a hell of a big favor and you're too naive to realize it." 

"Oh, beautiful," Beth said bitterly. "You seduce Harry and get him to use 
his tongue and mouth on your cunt like a whore, when you knew we were having 
problems. Not too big, but problems. Now we've got a big problem." 

"Who seduced whom is debatable, darling," Marcia said, glad that the men had 
been called away. With her dark-tressed neighbor alone and in a distraught 
condition, she finally had her chance to carry out her own long-planned 
seduction. Beth was so rattled that with a little pushing she would break, 
and then Marcia could if she were lucky manipulate the emotionally disturbed 
younger woman with the "All men are bastards" ploy and, with carefully 
prepared tales of woe, convert the presently seething anger in Beth's 
heaving breast to sympathy. After all, misery does love company. But first 
she had to needle her some more. 

"Let's be realistic, Beth," Marcia said, lighting a cigarette. "We'd all 
been drinking. Nobody was drunk, but the inhibitions, yours included, got 
lost somewhere. Harry kissed me and I kissed him back. You were doing the 
same with Jack -only his hands were all over your breasts, and your hand 
your hand was inside his fly. You were playing with his cock." 

"I guess so," Beth admitted, blushing at the memory. "But you took your 
panties off!" 

"It was that or have them torn off. Harry was really coming on." 

"He would have stopped if you insisted." 

"I'm not sure. Maybe you didn't notice it, but he wasn't missing a thing you 
were doing. I could feel him getting uptight and I thought the best thing to 
do would be maneuver him someplace else. I was afraid of what he might do to 
you or Jack if he wigged out, so I got him away from there, into the house." 

"Into your fuck-palace bedroom!" Beth shot back bitterly. 

"Guilty," Marcia admitted. "Oh, I'll admit it. I wanted Harry to lay me. 
He's a big, virile guy, and it was plain you'd get yours from Jack." 

"He wasn't laying you when I looked in the door," Beth retorted. "He was 
licking your cunt!" 

"Darling, that was all he could do," Marcia said. 

"That's a lie!" Beth shot back. "Don't try to tell me Harry was impotent. . 
. sometimes he screws me three times a night." 

"I believe it but last night he couldn't get it up. I sucked him and that 
didn't help. He began to apologize, and then spilled out what was bothering 
him. You and your one-way sex, Beth. God, eating and sucking are things any 
normal, well-adjusted couple do. But not you. You wouldn't hear of it. You 
boxed Harry into that deadly missionary sex, and he'd about had it. He loves 
you, but you've been driving him nuts!" 

"I didn't think it was that bad," Beth said, realizing that there had to be 
some truth in what the long-legged blonde said. 

"Well, I'm a few years older than you and centuries older when it comes to 
knowing men. Yet once I was just like you. It took Jack to liberate me, and 
he didn't have an easy time of it. A couple of years went by before I really 
enjoyed everything! And I don't think Harry's got as much patience as Jack. 
He's got a lot to learn too. As for what you saw well, he was so uptight, he 
had to have something! He was really down, had to know he could still turn a 
woman on. He took off my dress and gave me a trip around the world that 
wouldn't quit and then he ate my pussy until I was limp. After that, he was 
all right, hard as a railroad spike." 

"And then you took advantage of him and let him fuck you! But what about me? 
After all, Harry's my husband. Maybe I wanted to get fucked, too. Did you 
ever think about that?" 

Marcia looked down at the protesting girl with a half-smile on her 
beautifully sensual lips. "Well, you weren't exactly the picture of 
innocence yourself, you know." 

Beth gasped. How much did her blonde-haired neighbor know, she wondered. 
Could Jack have told her? But Marcia answered her question. 

"Harry got a bad case of the guilts later. He didn't know if you'd gone home 
or what," Marcia said, making up details as she went along. "He insisted we 
look for you and Jack. And when we found you, I thought the poor guy would 
die. There you were down on your knees giving Jack the blow job to end all 
blow jobs -the one thing you'd denied your own husband. And don't tell me 
you weren't turned on! I know enough about sucking cock to see plainly when 
a girl is doing it just to please the guy and when she's ravenous for it. 
You should have had a look at your own face . . . the way your lips were 
wrapped around Jack's prick, the way you gulped and sucked and licked . . . 
oh, no, Beth. You wanted it!" 

"Oh, Christ!" Beth cried out in torment. She couldn't stand to listen to any 
more of her carnal adventure. And Harry had seen her doing that to Jack! Oh, 
God! No wonder he was upset! 

Blindly she jumped to her feet and ran into the big house, slamming the door 
behind her. Brutal though it was, she admitted Marcia's indictment was true. 
She had held herself in for so long that when the circumstances were just 
right, she had completely discarded all her long-held values and freed the 
wanton imprisoned deep in her voluptuous female body. Tears blurring her 
vision, she sought out a bedroom and threw herself down on the oversized 
mattress, weeping bitterly. She no longer blamed her husband . . . or Jack . 
. . or even Marcia. Disgusting as it was, a lot of truth lay in what the 
emancipated blonde had said. 

Now she had to somehow face herself, rebuild her entire existence along the 
lines of the obscene blueprint which had just come to light and somehow 
prove to Harry that she had really wanted to do that to him. The pillow 
became wet with the distraught woman's tears. She was unaware when Marcia 
quietly came into the room, shutting and locking the door behind her. Beth 
lay passively on the bed and felt it sag as Marcia moved to lie beside her 
and comfortingly put her arms around her, stroking her flesh comfortingly. 

"Honey, face it," Marcia said. "Men are bastards. We can't do without them, 
but we can make it easier for each other." 

"Y-yeah? H-how?" Beth mumbled. 

"Well, by sort of sticking together . . . take care of each other when the 
wicket gets sticky. Now, we're lucky, the two of us. Our men are pretty good 
as men go. We have nice homes and they don't get drunk and beat us up, but 
we're still sex objects and possessions to be paraded, you know? They get 
together, a bunch of them and talk about kinky sex things and can't wait to 
get home and try them out." 

Marcia moved in such a way that Beth was compelled to turn on her side so 
they were lying close, breast to breast and pussy to pussy, and Marcia's 
soft lips were brushing the tortured dark-haired girl's ear. Beth was too 
confused to realize what was really happening. "Oh, and we need them. I 
don't know what I'd do without cock, but sometimes it gets to be awfully 
heavy medicine and I I try another route." 

Beth wanted to inquire the "other route" but had no chance as Marcia 
continued to talk, imparting secrets of her own life, her joys and 
frustrations at the hands of men. She could feel the lithe blonde's body 
pressed close to hers, the slim arms around her, caressing her back, riding 
up and down her spine, making her tingle. 

For some reason she couldn't understand, she was trembling, her loins were 
heating and her smooth belly muscles were jumping. She no longer felt 
animosity for Marcia. 

It was good to have her tender lips brushing her ear and whispering . . . 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Marcia's background story was, to Beth's ears, on the verge of the 
incredible. With a family incapable of helping her financially, she had been 
forced to drop out of college at San Diego at the age of twenty. She had no 
skills and the English Lit in which she had majored wasn't going to make her 
any money. She had spent some months on the beach, living on peanut butter 
and crackers until she happened on an old man who ran a hot dog wagon, a van 
in which he made the rounds of the beaches and small businesses, selling 
sandwiches, soda pop, candy and similar small items. He wanted to retire and 
was willing to sell out lock, stock and barrel for twenty-five hundred 
dollars. 

Marcia didn't have that kind of money. Her meager savings came to barely two 
hundred. But she sensed a potential there and by selling her stereo set, 
records, no-longer-needed texts and anything else not absolutely essential 
for survival, plus begging and borrowing from friends, she managed to muster 
five hundred, whereupon she marched into a bank with shaking knees and asked 
for a loan. 

The lending officer turned out to be Jack Kimble. He listened and studied 
the figures she had projected and sadly shook his head. 

"I'm sorry, but there's not a chance," he had told her. "I'm impressed with 
what you have here, and I'm sure it will work as you've outlined it. But 
it's impossible." 

"And just why is that?" Marcia had demanded, on the verge of tears and 
becoming angry at this stocky, soft-voiced man who on the one hand told her 
the deal looked good and in the next breath turned it down. "You bankers 
make me sick!" 

Jack Kimble had explained that she was still a minor and could not sign a 
contract, and she had no adult to sign for her. To ease the blow, he had 
taken her to lunch and delved into her history in a sympathetic way. 
Finally, he had smiled and said, "Well, the bank can't lend you money. But I 
like your spirit. I'll make you a personal loan. If you default, there's 
nothing I can do. But I don't think you will." 

Marcia got her hot dog wagon and quickly had a profitable route going. The 
hours were long often Marcia was up until two or three in the morning 
preparing sandwiches and other items for the following day but each week she 
met Jack Kimble and paid on her loan, and in less than six months she was 
out of debt. The meetings had led to intimate dinners and eventually to bed. 

"I wasn't exactly a virgin, but this was the first time I'd ever found a 
real man, and when Jack asked me to marry him, I jumped. But believe me, I 
wasn't prepared for the things that came with it. My ideas of sex were 
cornier than yours. It took him two years to educate me . . . he's a real 
satyr . . . and I love it!" Marcia murmured. "He taught me really 
everything. . . like how much pleasure there could be to changing partners. 
But we always do it together. If Jack has to go on a business trip, I sit 
home and knit. . . or try something different." 

"What is this 'something different' you're hinting about?" Beth whispered. 
Part of what Marcia said she'd already heard, about the swapping bit. But 
this new angle intrigued her. 

"Now you'll think I'm really terrible," Marcia said with a seductive 
chuckle. "But I have some very lovely girl friends who find themselves left 
alone sometimes too." 

"You're a . . . a lesbian!" Beth gasped softly. "No, no, no, no," Marcia 
reassured her. "Nothing like that! It's just that when the scene I gets too 
heavy with me, and I don't even want to see a man, well, it's nice to have a 
girlfriend to share the grief with." 

"It's beyond me," Beth mumbled. 

"Not if you stop and think a minute," the sleek blonde whispered. "Women can 
give things to each other that a man never could. Understanding and 
gentleness . . . and often a sexual relationship that's way off there by 
itself." Marcia shifted and her slender leg insinuated itself midway up the 
hot flesh of Beth's bare thigh. "Take us, for instance. You took a big 
hurdle last night, and were shocked when you saw Harry licking me. Now, 
could you lie with Harry and talk the way we're talking? I mean frankly, as 
a woman." 

"I guess not," Beth mumbled. She was terribly confused again because on the 
one hand she wanted to hate Marcia . . . and on the other, she didn't want 
to leave the comfort of her arms, the smooth supple length of her body. She 
decided to switch the tack, but didn't want to move out of the arousing 
embrace. Beth nervously wet her lips and asked, "But aren't you taking a 
terrible chance of getting caught? I mean, with Jack's position and all." 

"What chance?" Marcia replied. "Now, two men can't walk arm in arm down the 
street, but nobody thinks a thing about it if two women do. What's wrong 
with having lunch together or doing just the sort of thing you and I have 
done the past few weeks go bike riding in the country. Did you think you 
were getting talked about? Of course not." 

"But having sex . . . " Beth murmured. 

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Marcia blurted. "You talk like we were a bunch of 
bull dykes ripping each other's clothes off! Sure, if we're in the mood, we 
go to bed, and it's beautiful. Discreetly, of course. Why, you know one of 
my most darling girls very well, and you've never suspected anything." 

"Who?" Beth whispered, trying to think which of her friends it might be. She 
drew a complete blank. 

"Laurie your husband's secretary." 

"Oh, nooooo . . . " Beth gasped. Laurie was a pert, bouncy little girl with 
pointy breasts, slender legs, dark eyes and auburn hair in an elf cut. Beth 
knew the girl had plenty of boyfriends. "You're putting me on! I know Laurie 
. . . she's been to the house lots of times. She'd be the last one . . . " 

"You want proof . . . wait a sec!" 

Marcia untangled herself, left the room and quickly returned with a sheaf of 
Polaroid pictures. She fanned them out on the bed and Beth gasped, finding 
it hard to believe her eyes. But there in brilliant color was little Laurie, 
obviously swept away in passion as she and Marcia made love to each other. 
Beth grimaced and turned the pictures face down, shocked not so much by the 
acts themselves but by the fact that she'd never dreamed it of Laurie. 

"Look again . . . see how beautiful it is for us," Marcia whispered. 

Against her will, Beth looked. She saw after some study that these pictures 
were far different than those in some of the magazines Harry occasionally 
brought home from the adult bookstore in town. No false smiles or 
deliberately obscene poses intended to stir the prurient interests. Here 
were two beautiful women finding something they both needed. Beth's brain 
was in a whirl, and she hardly realized it when Marcia's lewdly skilled 
fingers nimbly opened her blouse and bared her breasts and then began to 
caress them. 

Beth realized what was going on only when Marcia's soft hot mouth met hers, 
at first very gently, then gradually with more urgency. Beth opened her lips 
to protest, to say she wasn't like that, but before she could mumble 
anything, Marcia's flickering wet tongue slid past her teeth and deep into 
her mouth, and at the same time the deft hand began to knead her breast and 
twist the nipple enticingly. Beth writhed on the big bed, but the only 
result was that Marcia's leg slid higher up between her own and was pressed 
hotly against her tingling pussy. 

How can this be happening to ME? Beth thought in dismay. It seemed that 
every time she squirmed, another of her erogenous zones came in tantalizing 
contact with the predatory blonde. And the really disturbing thing was she 
found herself liking the tactile sensations. Marcia's mouth was so soft and 
warm, her tongue so sweet as it probed her oral cavity, tickling and 
teasing. The young brunette found herself responding unwillingly, at first 
sucking and then allowing her own tongue to be led into the saliva-filled 
cavern of her neighbor's mouth. Her breasts were on fire and her little 
belly was quaking and her legs were spreading helplessly. 

Then Beth felt her unresisting hand being led to the juncture of Marcia's 
satin smooth thighs and pressed against the soft, lust-swollen lips of the 
blonde's cunt. Desperately the nervous housewife tried to withdraw her hand 
but the long legs clamped it in place, and then Marcia was slowly rotating 
her pelvis, rubbing her pussy over the imprisoned fingers. Beth felt the 
moist pussy flower open and then her fingers were inside the outer lips, 
into the hot wetness. Marcia's kissing and manipulation of Beth's breasts 
became more urgent and arousing and the dark-haired girl, groaning in 
surrender, found herself pressing closer and closer, wanting the feel of 
Marcia's firm full breasts against her own-and now her hand was moving of 
its own accord, seeking Marcia's throbbing clitoris and finally the deep 
passage of her cunt. 

An eternity passed, and Beth found herself completely helpless to resist. 
Never in her life had she been so gently and skillfully loved. She wanted to 
get up and run as Marcia began to undress her, drawing the blouse away from 
her heaving bosom, then deftly unsnapping her shorts and sliding them down 
her legs. As she tried one last desperate time to rise, Marcia's weight bore 
her down on the mattress and then the blonde's lewdly sucking lips were 
fastened on the outthrust nipples of her breasts and Beth could only whimper 
in surrender. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend it wasn't happening. 
The bed rocked and she looked up to see Marcia drawing her mini-shift over 
her head and fluffing out her tawny mass of hair. 

And then they were lying naked in the bed together, Marcia the skilled, 
gentle aggressor, Beth reluctant but unable to control her newly awakened 
desire as the hot wet kisses covered her trembling body. 

Beth lay passive, submitting, as Marcia leaned over her and with the pointed 
tip of her darting tongue teased nerve centers Beth didn't know she even 
had! The golden head kept moving lower and lower, the searing lips showering 
kisses on Beth's rippling white belly while Marcia's hand expertly caressed 
her feverish pussy. Then Marcia was spreading the trembling legs of the 
dark-haired girl and she was kneeling between the satin smooth thighs, her 
taffy hair spraying over legs and loins. Beth felt gentle fingers parting 
the moistened lips of her vagina, and then Marcia's hot breath blew on the 
sensitive coral-hued inner flesh. 

Beth cried out at the first contact. 

Marcia darted her tongue directly at the aroused button of Beth's clitoris, 
and it flickered like the tongue of a snake for a moment before the seeking 
lips sucked it between them and Beth felt the teasing nibbling of Marcia's 
perfect white teeth. 

"Ooooooohhhhhh . . . aaaaaaaaahhhhh!" Beth cried out softly, and against her 
will she found her pelvis undulating as she thrust her pussy up to the 
tantalizing oral caresses. Marcia's tongue began to flick from side to side 
of the glistening cunt like the wings of a butterfly, and as Beth nearly 
screamed in mounting passion the other girl's experienced mouth locked tight 
to the lust-swollen cunt lips and sucked. Then the long red spear of her 
tongue slithered deep into Beth's pussy, twirling and flicking, driving her 
almost insane. With a strangled cry, she suddenly grasped the bobbing head 
and pulled Marcia's face violently into her gushing loins. Beth's long legs 
flailed and locked across the other woman's shoulders and she fucked wildly 
up to the delving tongue. "God! Ooooohhhh . . . aaaaa . . . 
eeeeeyyyyyaaaaahhh! Eat meeee!" 

Marcia increased her efforts, arousing the half-wild brunette in every way 
she knew. She pressed the middle finger of her right hand into the crease of 
Beth's obscenely exposed buttocks and worked it around, thrusting until the 
rubbery sphincter muscle yielded. Beth stiffened as the finger penetrated 
inward to the first knuckle. It was strange and vile, but excruciatingly 
exciting, as the invading digit began to stretch her anus and bore deeper 
and deeper until it was buried to the hilt and Marcia's hand was making lewd 
liquid slapping sounds against her sweating ass-cheeks. Beth found herself 
fucking urgently up to the gulping mouth at her cunt and then screwing with 
whorish abandon down on the driving finger in her anus. She was completely 
out of her mind, ready for anything. 

And then the surge of rampaging orgasm engulfed her. It started deep in her 
belly like a bomb going off and swept through her jerking, trembling body 
and spilled from her loins into the ravenously sucking mouth of Marcia. Beth 
screamed out her completion. 

"Ooooohhh . . . I'm cummmmmiiiinnnngggg! Cummmmiiinnnnnggggg!" She writhed 
like a demon, thrashing in the throes of carnal lust and pleaded, "Don't 
stop. . . Oh, pleeeaseeee don't stop! " 

Marcia stopped, but only for an instant, long enough to swing around on the 
bed and straddle 

Beth's face, framing it with her long smooth legs, wriggling her buttocks, 
bringing her dilated pussy with its guardian fringe of soft blonde curls to 
Beth's soft, wet lips. Beth breathed in the sweet woman scent and she 
reacted instantly in an animal way she'd never thought possible. 

With a cry of abandoned desire, she grasped the older girl's churning 
buttocks and drew the dripping pussy down to her virginal mouth. Wildly she 
plunged her long, wet tongue into its depths as she drew the outer lips 
apart to seek the sweet nectar that glistened within her blonde friend's 
open vagina. She could feel the hot lubricious cunt rolling against her 
sensuous mouth and her fingers were like the talons of a hawk as she sought 
to pull Marcia's loins closer to her hungry mouth. 

Marcia, who had waited and planned so long for this moment, was startled at 
the intensity of Beth's oral caress. The dark-haired girl, so innocent only 
a day before, was ravenous, and Marcia wonderedhow deep was the well which 
held her passions. No other girl had ever been so completely abandoned. All 
the others distilled into an "I'll do it to you if you'll do it to me" 
thing, but here there was no calculation. It was spontaneous and natural, 
and Marcia wondered even as her tongue plunged and probed into Beth's 
humping cuntal slit if there hadn't been more truth than fiction in the 
story she'd hoked up with which to seduce Beth. 

"I'm cumming.. . Oh, darling, cum with me!" Marcia cried out as she felt the 
hot fluid boil down the depths of her cunt and into the younger girl's 
sucking mouth to be licked away by the tantalizing tongue. And then Beth was 
writhing, cumming a second time and Marcia drove her tongue to the very 
depths of the sweet pussy. 

Exhausted, they crawled into a tight embrace and kissed each other asleep. 

* * * 

Tension filled the smoothly purring Cadillac as Harry and Jack drove into 
Indian Springs. Harry was repressing an urge to punch Jack's nose, yet he 
realized he was more angry with himself than with the banker. All the times 
he'd used every wile he could think of to get his cock into Beth's mouth and 
failed only to have Jack score like a burglar! He quit gnashing his teeth 
when he came in sight of the sprawling sales lot. The salesman was at the 
office door, trying to look nonchalant, and failing. The White Elephant, as 
the staff had dubbed the land yacht, was parked nearby. 

"Where is he?" Harry demanded. He was beginning to get a headache, and he 
wanted a drink. "This better be on the level." 

"I told you, he wanted to see how good it was to fuck in. His chick doesn't 
like hotels when they travel," the man said. 

At that moment the face that was on millions of TV screens each Sunday 
night, and in movies four or five times a year, appeared at the door of the 
monstrous motor home. Harry put on his professional calm and introduced 
himself and Jack. 

"Come in, brothers, come in, have a drink. Honey, get some more glasses and 
ice and stuff out we've got company." 

Still dazed, Harry found the superstar to be just as relaxed and casual in 
the flesh as when he was performing. He was in his early fifties and the 
girl with him couldn't have been twenty. But she oozed sex with every little 
movement. A tall, sleek girl with pouty mouth, small but prominent breasts 
and high, almost Slavic cheekbones. She was impeccably groomed and if Harry 
hadn't been told, he would never have suspected she'd just been thoroughly 
balled as a means of testing the vehicle. 

As they worked on the second round of drinks, Harry said, "You didn't stop 
to hear a sales pitch. I'm not up to one anyway." 

The star grinned and said, "All I want to hear is the tinkle of little ice 
cubes in big glasses. How much?" 

"The sticker price is thirty-three big ones. Call it thirty." 

"Sounds reasonable. But I've got a trade." 

"That could make a difference." 

"Outside. You'll like it." 

Harry went outside with the star and saw the deal fly out the window. Parked 
in the shade, top down, was a two-year-old white Rolls-Royce convertible. He 
knew it had cost more than forty thousand new, and it still looked new. 

"I can't handle something that big," he said sadly. "The only thing I could 
possibly do is put it on consignment with the Rolls people and allow you 
whatever it brings. I could never give you what it's worth." 

"All that barge is worth to me is a bale of traffic tickets," the star said. 
"It collects cops like shit collects flies. I'll take ten and the discount 
of three." 

Harry Lansing could hardly believe his ears. Hell, he could wholesale the 
Rolls for twenty-five thou! Weakly he said, "You have the title?" 

"I already gave it to your salesman. He's working up the papers." 

Half an hour later, the star and his girl friend barreled down the 
Interstate highway, leaving Harry Lansing with a check for twenty thousand 
dollars and one Rolls-Royce. 

"Jesus," Jack Kimble whistled. "What the hell are you going to do with it?" 

"Drive it, what the hell else?" Harry said. 

Jack decided to drop the Caddy off for servicing and ride back in the luxury 
car. Harry felt like a new man. He'd never dreamed of getting his hands on 
such a machine. Of course, he couldn't keep it, but he'd have the pleasure 
of tooling it around for a few days before looking for a buyer. He liked the 
way friends he passed goggled at the sight of him behind the wheel. 

"Christ, the gals will flip!" he predicted, which brought him somewhat back 
to earth. There were things to be settled, and the fantastic car had given 
his ego such a boost that he was ready to bull ahead, and he said to Jack, 
"I want to know something. All this time I've been trying to get Beth to 
blow me, and no score. But she was doing you up like a crazy woman. How 
come?" 

"I didn't do anything," Jack said. "You did. When she walked in and saw you 
down on Marcia, something snapped. I made some sympathetic noises, and the 
next thing she was down on her knees. That's all there was to it." 

"Shit!" Harry muttered. "Simple as that! Well, we'll just have to coast 
along and see how things work out." 

At home, Harry ran the Rolls into his garage. 

He didn't want Beth seeing it yet she might want to keep the damn thing. The 
two men crossed the lawn to Kimble's and found no sign of their wives. 

"Maybe they decided to take a nap it was a pretty long and vigorous night," 
Jack said. "Let's look around." 

They began a tour of the huge house. They found their wives asleep in a 
tight embrace in a rumpled bed. 

"I'll be goddamned!" Harry whispered. The room was rich with the scent of 
their sex, the sheets soaked with perspiration and cum. 

Jack Kimble only smiled. Clever Marcy hadn't wasted any time in getting what 
she wanted out of the deal. 

The men didn't disturb them. Harry was stunned but determined not to show 
it. He wondered if this whole weekend might just be a dream but was 
convinced otherwise when he stubbed his toe painfully on the leg of a chair. 
They went out by the pool with the portable bar and Harry dedicated himself 
to getting drunk. He thought that only in an intoxicated condition could he 
possibly make any sense out of the fast-moving events. He just could not 
accept the fact that his narrow-minded Beth had suddenly turned into not 
only an eager cocksucker, but a lesbian. 

Harry's first impulse was to break necks and kick asses, but, as successive 
drinks took hold, he began to think that maybe it was a good thing that it 
had happened when it did, and in the way it had. 

Certainly this abrupt turnabout couldn't be just a freak thing. The obscene 
desires must have been lurking just below the calm surface and awaiting an 
incident which would trigger them. He began to count himself lucky that it 
had happened with the Kimbles who, if they might be sort of far out, were 
discreet and obviously knew how to handle such matters. What if they'd 
fallen into the clutches of some of the wild sex club exploiters and been 
sucked into the sewers of degeneracy? He knew personally of several cases 
where that had happened, and the women were led into sordid things like 
prostitution and performing in pornographic movies, taking the most depraved 
roles, enslaved by their own lust, finally turning to dope to keep going. 

They drank slowly, nibbling on leftovers from the previous night's dinner, 
and watching a baseball game on the portable TV. It was late afternoon when 
Beth and Marcia appeared, looking fresh and relaxed. Marcia and Jack 
exchanged conspiratorial winks. Beth found she had no difficulty looking 
Harry in the eye, but then she had no idea that he had seen her in bed with 
Marcia. Drained by her wild sexual exploits, Beth had been sound asleep. But 
Marcia had been alert and was thoroughly pleased with herself. Everything 
had gone even much better than she and Jack had dared to hope. 

They wanted to know if the star had really bought the huge motor home and 
Harry simply said that he had. He didn't mention the Rolls. 

Evening came, and with it a cooling breeze. The drinks had mellowed them 
all, yet, without speaking of it, they were all thinking of the same thing. 
What would happen when they decided it was time to go to bed? Who would wind 
up with whom, and what delights would they indulge in? 

The bright silver moon rose, casting the grounds in alternate gleams and 
shadows, and Marcia suggested they have a swim. They stripped naked by the 
pool and plunged into the cool water, frolicking, clutching, caressing. At 
one point Harry was sitting on the apron of the pool, his legs dangling in 
the water, his cock hardening as he watched the two beautiful women. Beth 
swam by, noticed him, gulped a bulging mouthful of water, popped up between 
his legs and squirted it in his face. 

"Hey!" her husband yelled, and then jumped as she grabbed his penis and 
guided it deep into her mouth and let him feel the sharp nibbling of her 
teeth. Her dark hair, glistening with water, swirled as her head plunged to 
the base of his cock several times, but as Harry caught it and tried to fuck 
deeper between her clinging lips, Beth squealed and swam away with the grace 
of a dolphin, wickedly calling, "Later!" 

When the water had chilled them, Jack suggested they look at some movies he 
had. They dried themselves in the pool house and made their way to the 
rumpus room, where there was a 16-mm movie sound projector and a wall panel 
slid back to reveal a large screen. Cans of film were produced, drinks made 
and the lights turned down as they settled on the big old sofa. 

Beth Lansing had heard of such movies but never seen one. Nobody had to tell 
her these were top quality. The actors and actresses were beautiful people, 
uninhibited, skilled in every variety of sex. The films were not the 
run-of-the-mill things where the performers appear in a bedroom, take off 
their clothes with boredom and go through the motions. These had plots light 
but still plots and each succeeding sex act was a seduction or awakening in 
itself. 

After an hour and a half, Jack called a break and said he was going to make 
some special drinks. He produced an ornate bottle filled with a greenish 
fluid that looked like an after-dinner liqueur. When he poured generous 
drinks into iced glasses and added water, it turned milky white. Beth tasted 
it and the flavor was strange, sort of like licorice. 

"Pernod," Jack told her. "Best pecker hardener in the world. A few of these 
and you'll be ready to ball a bear." 

The drink was smooth, and in a few minutes Beth could feel her pussy 
beginning to throb, and she knew that soon she would want it filled with a 
wildly plunging cock . . . or tongue. Jack fixed a second round of drinks 
before again turning the lights down and switching on the automatic 
projector. 

This film made both Beth and Harry blink. It had been shot in the red 
bedroom of Jack and Marcia! There were two couples, young and beautiful 
people, and they intertwined in every imaginable way. For the first time, 
Beth saw a girl being sodomized, kneeling across a huge ottoman, spreading 
her smooth ass-cheeks while her partner struggled to penetrate her tiny 
anus. 

"Oooh! Ooooohhhhh! Wow!" Beth whispered as slowly the man's cock bored into 
the writhing center of the girl's lewdly stretched buttocks. The camera 
showed initial grimaces of pain and the sound system reproduced her gasps 
and whimpers, and then it caught the transition from pain to wild, 
uncontrollable pleasure. Beth found herself leaning forward, eyes popping. 
Marcia was sitting beside her and unconsciously Beth's hand explored and 
found her breast, squeezing it in obscene arousal. She could almost believe 
the long, glistening cock was ramming into her virgin ass! She felt hot 
wetness at the lips of her cunt and she wondered giddily where the Beth of 
just a few days ago had gone. Wherever it was, she'd never be back! 

The next sequence was even more startling, because of the contraption 
involved if nothing else. 

"The ancient and honorable Chinese Basket," Jack said with a salacious 
laugh. 

Hanging from a ceiling beam directly over the scarlet-covered bed was an 
open weave wicker basket shaped like half a pear. It was big enough to 
accommodate a full-grown adult, and Beth vaguely remembered seeing something 
similar in her childhood used as a lawn swing. Only this one had a hole in 
the bottom. At the top it was attached to a thin steel cable with a 
turnbuckle. The cable ran through a series of pulleys to a crank fastened to 
the wall by which the basket could be winched up and down. 

Now a girl with long black hair and stunning figure settled herself in the 
basket, her smooth-shaven pussy protruding through the hole. One of the men 
cranked her up and another, his penis in a state of semi-erection, stretched 
out on the bed on his back with his loins just below the suspended girl. 
Another girl, this one a rich-lipped redhead, crawled onto the bed and began 
to skillfully tongue and suck his cock to full, blood-hardened rigidity. She 
held it by the base, aiming it straight up as slowly the girl in the basket 
began to rotate and wind the winch down. 

Like a spider dangling from the ceiling, she moved lower and lower until the 
gaping lips of her pussy made contact with the reddish-purple tip of the 
man's lust-swollen rod of flesh. Very slowly she continued to spin, and with 
agonizing slowness, the penis was screwing into her cunt while the redhead 
licked the length of the staff and the man's heavy testicles. 

On and on the film ran, the man lying still as a statue while his phallus 
was slowly consumed until the girl's vaginal lips were grinding down onto 
his wiry pubic hair. She swung to and fro for a minute, then began to 
reverse the process, still spinning, her face contorted with sensual 
pleasure as gradually she rose until only the head of the thick spear of 
flesh was buried in her cunt that was now glistening with her own 
secretions. 

Then she spun around twice, fast, and the man's penis jerked and his back 
arched as he tried to get deeper into the dark-haired girl. His rod was 
twisted like a corkscrew as he cried out and shot a thick stream of rich 
whitish cum barely inside the flexing vaginal lips. It spurted and then ran 
in rivulets down over his naked loins and the redhead was crawling onto the 
bed again, her pink tongue eagerly licking away the rich semen. As the 
raven-haired girl left the swing, the other man pulled her legs apart and 
eagerly drove his tongue deep into her gushing vaginal slit. 

"My God!" was all the stunned Beth could say. 

"We keep that toy out of sight, in case some uninitiated house guest should 
wander into that room," Jack said. "But maybe we can rig it before the 
weekend's out." 

"It's a real gas," Marcia added. "I used to think screwing was an in-and-out 
thing, but I found out it's really rotary." 

"Another round and we'll head for the playpen, okay?" Jack suggested. He 
made the drinks doubly strong that time. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

They trooped through the house to the red room, bringing the Pernod and 
mixings. Beth felt the heat in her belly, the tingling wetness between her 
legs, soaking the soft curly hair that framed her aroused pussy. She could 
hardly wait. She didn't care which or how many of them took her, or what 
technique they wanted. She thought of the girl in the movie, kneeling with a 
cock in her tight rectum, and she told herself, Yes, even that! Once, 
anyway, to see what it's like! The Chinese Basket should be a real far-out 
experience too, but she was in no mood to wait while the device was brought 
out and rigged up. She wanted cock and she wanted it NOW! 

They literally threw themselves on the outsized bed, reaching and feeling 
and kissing indiscriminately until Marcia said, "Hey, I'm hot enough to 
explode right now! Just looking at a prick or tongue will make me cum. Why 
don't we start off with a quartet and get the edge off? Then fool around and 
when we're ready to go again, we can take our time. Really do things up 
right!" 

There was no argument. They arranged themselves face to loins. Because she 
had denied him so long, Beth lay with her head cradled on her husband's leg, 
her eager mouth an inch from the reddish tip of his lust-ready cock. Harry 
snuggled his face into Marcia's already dripping bush of straw-colored 
cuntal hair, while she fondled her own husband's turgid penis, making him 
iron-hard. Beth felt Jack's head between her thighs and his hot breath 
passing through her damp cuntal hairs to arouse the tender pink inner flesh 
of her pussy. 

Then the room was filled with heavy breathing and the sounds of lurid 
licking and sucking. With her new found skill, Beth eagerly began to lick 
Harry's warm rubbery cockhead, dipping the tip of her darting tongue into 
the little slit, savoring the pearly fluid. He groaned as she pursed her 
full lips into a soft oval and drew the mushroom-shaped head between them, 
her tongue swirling and teasing. Then her head went down and down to the 
base of his loins until only a thick stub of his male flesh protruded from 
her eagerly sucking mouth. She grasped his clenching buttocks and pulled him 
even tighter to her face, her cheeks swelling with the intrusion. Wantonly 
she began to suck her husband, as if to make up for all the times she had 
denied him. She loved the way he was jerking, fucking deep into her throat, 
and her fingers lewdly toyed with his heavy scrotal sac. 

Marcia had been wrong on one point, possibly because of the aphrodisiac 
effects of the Pernod. There were no sudden climaxes. Writhing, the two 
couples made unrestrained oral love, their lust and endurance increased by 
the knowledge that they were all linked in sexual abandon. Beth found her 
loins surging against Jack's hot mouth as his tongue teased her clitoris, 
and then her husband began to jam himself violently into her gaping mouth. 
The full length of his wildly jerking manhood was buried deep in her throat 
when his balls exploded and the rich, thick sperm spewed in a hot torrent 
into her spasmodically gulping lips. She almost choked but managed to 
swallow the cream-sweet cum, feeling it burn like lava as it poured into her 
quaking little belly and formed a warm rich pool there. 

His ejaculation, and the lewdly delving tongue and sucking lips of Jack 
Kimble brought on her own climax seconds later, and Beth bucked and writhed 
and passionately licked her husband's slowly softening shaft. 

The quartet separated, panting with satiated desire. More drinks were had 
and then Jack Kimble studied his guests carefully before he made a rare 
offer. 

"Would you go for a number? Acapulco Gold." 

Beth looked at him blankly. Harry said, "Marijuana, honey. The best. I don't 
smoke a lid a year, but this is a night to turn on." 

"I never knew you smoked at all," Beth said, surprised but not particularly 
shocked. She'd read the pros and cons of pot and it seemed no worse to her 
than liquor, maybe better. "If you think so okay." 

From a concealed drawer, Jack Kimble took a Moroccan leather box chased with 
gold. The sticks of pot were machine rolled and the papers bore the name of 
a major cigarette. He handed around gold roach clips, and Beth had to be 
told what they were for. She coughed violently at the first puff, and Jack 
explained to her about drawing the pungent smoke deep into her lungs and 
holding it as long as she could. 

By the time the number was half-consumed, Beth felt a mellow glow spreading 
through her. The nagging sense of guilt, weakened as it already was by the 
delights of her newfound sexuality, disappeared like ground fog in the early 
morning sun. 

"Ooooooh . . . This is good!" she said, affixing the clip and almost burning 
her lips as she went for the final hit. She grinned wickedly and said, "I'd 
like another." 

"Later," Jack said. "You're still going up, and you're not used to this 
stuff. For you, one stick is beautiful, two would be bad news." 

"Whatever you say," she agreed. Looking brightly around at the others, she 
proposed, "Let's fuck!" 

"The spirit's willing but the flesh is weak, sexy," Harry said with a lewd 
grin, waving his still limp penis at her. 

"Poor widdle pooped pecker," Marcia said mockingly. "Baby, our equipment's 
always ready. Want to?" 

Beth shot a look at her husband. She wanted Marcia, but she didn't know how 
Harry would react to seeing her make it with a girl. But Harry only chuckled 
and said, "Jack and I saw you two in bed." 

"Oh." Well, that was that! No secrets left, Beth thought. She combed her 
fingers through her long dark hair and her near-black eyes swept over the 
lush reclining form of Marcia. She said, "If you'll show me how to do that 
round-the-world thing." 

"I thought you'd never ask," Marcia said, wetting her sensuous lips. She 
rolled on her belly and whispered instructions. Beth bent low over her, 
tongue extended, and began to kiss and lick the sweet salty flesh of the 
squirming blonde. Her lips and tongue found the erogenous zones, and after a 
time Marcia's back and clenching ass-cheeks glistened with saliva. 
Languorously 

Marcia rolled over, drew Beth's ardent mouth to her own and kissed her 
deeply, then led her further into the lesbian rite. Beth sucked and tongued 
the firm warm breasts and slowly shifted downward on the bed, orally 
caressing the smooth flat belly, and then the pink tip of her tongue was 
wetly darting around the borders of the golden pubic hair. Beth kissed 
slaveringly down the full length of the sleek legs, laved between Marcia's 
toes and the soles of her feet and then, as Marcia's thighs tantalizingly 
parted to bring her tight cuntal furrow into full view and her thumbs parted 
the blood-swollen fleshy lips to reveal the glistening pink inner flesh, 
Beth moved to kneel between the obscenely spread thighs, her head dipping, 
her long wet tongue flickering, seeking the nectar that was welled up in the 
warm cavern of Marcia's rich-scented pussy. 

With a groan of desire, Beth pulled the soft thighs wide and plunged her 
head into the wetly soft heat of Marcia's genitals. Her tongue licked and 
twirled and fluttered and she sucked and teased the erect little clitoris 
that was like a tiny penis as Marcia cried out in desire and pleasure and 
her legs came together, hotly framing Beth's burrowing face. 

Harry and Jack watched with amazement and mounting desire. Harry was 
stunned. He'd never suspected the raging passion that had smoldered so long 
in his young, beautiful wife. The wild wet sounds of her licking and sucking 
crashed like raging surf in his ears. He couldn't take his eyes away from 
the rampant lust of her features. Her dark eyes were rolling and she was 
nuzzling the grinding pussy and even working a finger deep into Marcia's 
tightly puckered anus as Marcia screamed out her first orgasm. 

"Honey, swing up here and let me do you, too," the blonde whispered 
urgently. 

"NO! This is mine. . . all mine this time!" Beth blurted, and her ravenous 
mouth again sought the sweet fountain which was now gushing with Marcia's 
rich vaginal secretions. Beth surrendered her source of wanton pleasure only 
when her darting tongue ached and began to swell, when her neck muscles hurt 
and her rich, full lips were tender from the wild surging of Marcia's 
aroused pussy. 

Then, licking her lips, savoring the delicious aftertaste, Beth rolled away 
and, panting, lay on the soft velvet coverlet. Jack handed her a fresh 
drink, tall and cold, and a second number. 

Harry stood by the bed, his cock again hard. There was a sort of stunned 
expression on his face. Beth grinned wickedly and asked, "Shocked?" 

"Sort of," he mumbled. 

"I still like this better," she said, and impishly caught the end of his 
penis and dipped it into her ice-cold Pernod, laughing wantonly when he 
yelled in surprise. 

They decided it would be a good idea to have some solid sustenance, and 
trooped down to the kitchen for a raid on the refrigerator. It was two 
o'clock in the morning and they were somewhat giddy from their sexual 
excesses and the drinks they'd consumed. Their rampant animal lust had been 
slaked for the moment, and none of them wanted to talk about what remained 
of their weekend of sex, what lay ahead, although through each mind possible 
variations and combinations passed like trinkets on a revolving display. 

Jack broke out more ice cubes and filled an insulated bucket and they sat 
around the kitchen table informally. The Pernod had been retired for the 
moment and the drinks which they were having now were tall and weak. None 
wished to lose his or her sexual capacity to alcohol. 

For lack of anything else to discuss, Jack said, "Harry, I think you should 
keep the Rolls-Royce." 

"What Rolls-Royce?" the wives asked in unison. 

"I don't believe it," Beth said when the story was told. "This I have to 
see.. " 

"Me too!" Marcia agreed. Half-high on marijuana and liquor and forgetting 
they were stark naked, the quartet marched next door, where the woman stared 
with fascination at the fabulous car. Twice they read through the title 
which had come with it until Beth exuberantly vaulted over the door and into 
the deep leather seat and said, "We want a ride!" 

"You'd have to put clothes on," Jack said. "The police would love to find 
four naked bodies driving around at three a.m. in this car." 

"Oh, fuck it," Marcia said. "We can do it in the morning." 

They went back to the Kimble house, spirits high. Jack explained why he had 
decided Harry should keep the car. For one thing, he'd gotten it for less 
than something like a new Mercedes would cost, and it should last a 
lifetime. For another, it could be written off as a business expense and 
from a public relations angle would give prospective customers the idea that 
his sales lot was thriving and therefore must be good to deal with. Harry 
said he'd think about it, but a look from Beth told him he'd bought it. 

Back in the red bedroom, Beth found herself in a state of euphoria. She had 
never in her life dared to dream of owning a Rolls, and her agitation made 
her ready for anything. More marijuana was smoked and more Pernod consumed. 
Jack asked if anybody was interested in more films. 

"I like a live show better," Beth said with a wicked giggle, her eyes 
glittering. She looked at her husband and asked, "Harry, can we do something 
really wild?" 

"That's what we're here for," he replied laconically. 

"Just once.. .just once I want to try it," Beth said, and even as she spoke 
realized she wasn't so sure. 

"What?" Harry queried. 

"I want to try it like that girl in the movie -in my bottom!" She was amazed 
at her own brazenness, but then she was stunned at what she had turned into 
over the weekend. Beth wanted to know every facet of carnal delight. "I 
wonder if it hurts much." 

"A little at first," Marcia said with the voice of experience. "Then it's 
far out." 

"Okay, honey," Harry said, "Roll over and get up on your hands and knees and 
we'll see how it fits." 

With a surge of wanton excitement, Beth moved to comply, spreading her legs 
until her lewdly stretched buttocks made a softly rounded target. She held 
her breath as Harry knelt behind her, rolling the foreskin back over the 
head of his aroused cock. Beth gasped as she felt the hot tip slide up the 
crack of her ass-cheeks and center on the tight pink rose of her anus. She 
braced herself and rotated her hips as the girl in the movie had done. 

"Okay," the dark-haired beauty whispered. 

"No! You'll rip her apart!" Marcia protested. "A girl has to be ready first. 
Let me take care of that." 

Quickly she brought a tube of vaginal jelly and, easing Harry aside, leaned 
over Beth's kneeling body, feeling her tremble in anticipation. Marcia 
brushed the gleaming mass of hair from her neck and began to teasingly kiss 
and nibble her way down the younger woman's spine as her hands slowly 
caressed the trembling hemispheres of Beth's buttocks. Her tongue was like 
liquid fire and it spread to the widely splayed ass-cheeks and began to make 
a wet little circle around the puckered anus as Beth twitched and gasped in 
new arousal. 

Then, bringing her face in tight to the squirming hot flesh, Marcia plunged 
her tongue deep up into Beth's quivering rectum and Beth squealed in arousal 
and humped back. Damn, it felt funny, but good! She was going to like this! 
She felt her tight sphincter relaxing, allowing the probing, twirling 
lingual member deep access. And then she felt the slick jelly being spread 
around the tight little hole and up inside her body. 

If a tongue felt this good, what would a cock be like!" 

She found out quickly as Marcia surrendered her position and Harry mounted 
her, pushing her knees so far apart the tendons ached. Marcia whispered to 
drop down on her elbows and rest her face on the pillow and Beth complied, 
feeling the restless fires in her loins. 

Then Harry shifted, grasping her writhing hips in his strong hand and 
holding her fast. Suddenly she felt the huge mushroom-shaped head of his 
cock pressing relentlessly at the tight rubbery ring of her anus. Raising 
her head and looking back, she saw Marcia holding Harry's cock, aiming it at 
the tiny defenseless target. 

"Oooooohhhhh!! " Beth gasped as she realized the difference in size between 
Marcia's soft tongue and her husband's lust-filled penis. Suddenly she was 
sure it would never fit! She changed her mind and tried to squirm loose, but 
she was held in his inexorable grip and the rigid rod of male flesh was 
pushing, pressing relentlessly for entry. Then came the first pain, enough 
to make her whimper. And the terrible, reaming pressure. Suddenly her anal 
ring yielded and the burgeoning head of Harry's penis popped through the 
portal. She almost screamed as she felt her tender flesh being stretched 
almost beyond its endurance and she cried out, "Oh, stop, stop, STOP! IT 
HURTS!" 

"Just for a minute," Marcia soothed. "Harry, let her relax." 

For several minutes Harry remained immobile, the tip of his cock penetrating 
his wife's sorely distorted rectum. He flexed his half-embedded cock, and 
each time Beth moaned softly. But she felt her body accommodating to the 
strange intruder. She felt stuffed, but the pain diminished until with slow, 
short strokes, Harry began to impale himself deeper and deeper into the hot, 
tight passage. Each measured thrust of the probing penis brought new pain 
and soreness, but he was relentlessly going deeper and deeper into the 
clenching ass-cheeks. Marcia moved in to rub jelly on the protruding length 
of his thick shaft and it began to move easier. Beth was sure it would spear 
all the way to her tense belly. In a mirror, she could see herself kneeling 
meekly, subserviently before the invading phallus, and the utter obscenity 
of her position, the degradation thrilled her in a masochistic way. Now she 
wanted to feel pain. She began to rock from side to side, finding a way to 
rotate her wide-splayed buttocks and to help Harry sink deeper and deeper 
into her vitals until finally, with a grunt and a powerful lunge that sent 
her tender inner flesh rippling in waves before it, he sank his penis to its 
very roots and his heavy balls slapped wetly against the tautly stretched 
flesh of her squirming buttocks. "Eeeeeeyyyaaaahhhhhh!" Beth cried out and 
clamped her internal muscles tight around the impressive girth of his 
throbbing shaft. To the kneeling girl, its size was magnified many times by 
the sensitivity of thousands of nerve ends. "Ooooooh . . . Harrrryyyyyyy!" 

Hardly able to believe that this was his own beautiful, almost shy, wife 
that he was sodomizing while another couple looked on with lascivious grins, 
he began to fuck slowly and deeply into the steaming cavity, loving the way 
her sphincter grasped his invading maleness so tightly, fascinated by the 
way the pink flesh of her rectal passage clung to it on the out-stroke and 
then disappeared back into her writhing body as he drove lustily forward, 
fucking far up into her trembling loins. 

Beth began to sob, the pain was so intense. She writhed and beat her hands 
on the bed and then found it was easier if she kept her buttocks moving, 
jerking and rotating to meet the relentless thrusting, than if she remained 
immobile. 

Masochistically she began to revel in the pain, and as she did, it began to 
give way to pleasure, a wild sensual surging through her squirming body. And 
suddenly it was the most arousing sensation she had ever experienced. 

"Oooooooohhhhhh . . . Nice now, darling," she chanted, humping back 
violently, trying to absorb more and more of his cock. "Oh, fuck me! Fuck me 
hard and fast for a long, long time." 

The wet slapping of their bodies and their fevered panting were the only 
sounds as with increasing speed the rampant piston plunged and surged into 
Beth's now eager rectum. She rocked back to meet each savage, lust-driven 
stroke, glorying in the way her tender inner flesh .rippled and boiled as 
the bulbous head shot far up into her tightly clutching anus. Harry's balls 
were pounding on the sensitive nub of her passion-swollen clitoris and 
suddenly her entire body quaked and trembled as the orgasm which had been 
building up burst its restraint. 

"I'm cummmiiiiinnnnnngggg!" Beth cried out at the top of her lungs. "Oh, 
Harrrryyyyyy! I'm cummmmmmiinnnnnggg! Fuck meeeee! Oh, keep fucking meeeee!" 

He was still iron hard in her clenching ass-cheeks as Beth weakly fell 
forward, her internal muscles holding him tightly prisoner. She moaned in a 
delirium of sensual pleasure and weakly pleaded, "In a minute, some more 
-please?" 

Sweating profusely, Beth nudged Harry until they rolled on their sides. 
Marcia handed her a fresh drink, half of which Beth gulped immediately, and 
a cigarette. She was panting, her full, firm breasts heaving, with streams 
of perspiration trickling between them. She smoked the cigarette quickly and 
finished the drink, feeling Harry's penis stiff hard as oak in her anus. 

"I never knew any girl to turn on the way you do," Marcia said, shaking her 
head. "Honey, you're built for fucking! You should be in a sandwich." 

"Sandwich?" Beth repeated, not understanding. 

"Have both of them at once. Farther out than that you can't get!" 

"In my cunt and ass at the same time!" Beth retorted, awed by the prospect. 
But the Pernod and pot were doing their work well, and the sheer lewd 
obscenity of the proposal fascinated her. Suddenly she wanted to know the 
very depths of degradation and humiliation and also the heights of illicit 
sexuality. It didn't sound possible, but damn it, she could try! Jack Kimble 
was standing by the bed, rubbing lubricant on the thick length of his cock, 
and she was hungry for it as she said, "How?" 

"Harry, roll on your back so Beth is on top of you. Honey, spread your legs 
as wide as you can, and when Jack gets on you, swing them up over his back 
and let him at your pussy," Marcia said as if she was directing a play. 
"When he gets in you, the three of you roll on your sides or Harry is going 
to get squashed. Then fuck like hell!" 

Beth grunted as she felt herself being pulled on top of her husband. His 
hands cupped her trembling breasts, playing with the distended nipples, and 
it felt like he'd sunk even deeper into her widely stretched rectum. Then 
Jack was hovering over her, moving between her widespread legs, fingering 
her pussy and bringing the purplish-red tip of his manhood up to the widely 
dilated fleshy portals. Suddenly it looked huge, and she was sure this would 
never work! She couldn't possibly take it into her yearning cunt while 
Harry's thick spear of flesh was throbbing with desire in her rectum. She 
started to protest but then gasped as she felt the bulbous head pressing 
against her vulva, with Marcia holding the heavy-veined shaft for her 
husband, aiming it so it would plunge far up into her already stuffed loins. 

"Oooooohhhhh . . . Aaaaaaauuuuuu gggghhh!" the dark-tressed woman cried out 
as the relentless thrusting of Jack's powerful hips suddenly drove the 
rubbery knob past the outer lips of her straining vagina. "I can't.. . I 
can't possibly!" 

Beth thrashed and groaned and whimpered as pain of an intensity she'd never 
imagined wracked her body and brought tears to her luminous dark eyes. 
Relentlessly, Jack was ramming his rod up into the hot, slick depths of her 
pussy. She could feel it rubbing against Harry's cudgel, the two separated 
by nothing more than the tissue-thin membrane of her cuntal and rectal 
channels. Remembering Marcia's instructions, she found strength to scissor 
her long, sweat-streaked legs up and lock them around Jack's straining back, 
and then it was easier. Gripping her shoulders, the stocky man lunged, 
thrusting his muscular body forward, and Beth screamed as his penis was 
rammed to the hilt in her obscenely stretched vagina. 

"Aaaauuggghhh!" she cried out in torment, her head rolling from side to 
side, her dark mass of hair flailing. The two impaling phalluses jerked and 
flexed, bringing gasps from her slack mouth. The men gave her a moment to 
adjust to the double invasion of her tender genitals, and then began to saw 
back and forth in rhythm, slowly, like the pistons of a reciprocating 
engine. As one cock withdrew, the other went deep into her straining body, 
and then the process was reversed. She felt herself being tipped and then 
the three were lying on their sides, and she could hear the wet squishing as 
they began to fuck her faster and faster. The pain was intolerable at first, 
much greater than she'd felt when Harry penetrated her virginal anus, and 
Beth moaned her agony and let the tears flow down her cheeks, She saw Marcia 
kneeling over them, smiling, and wondered how big a smile she'd have if this 
was happening to her. Then Beth told herself it probably had plenty of 
times. "Ooooohhh . . . Uuuuggghh!" 

Gradually, her two partners increased the pace of their urgent fucking, and 
as they did, the pain began to diminish just when Beth was learning to enjoy 
it and want it to continue. 

Now their cocks were sliding and reaming, and she was able to add her own 
lithe muscles to their efforts. Back and forth she rammed her hips, jamming 
her now yearning pussy up the full length of Jack's penis, the lips sucking 
like the mouth of a feeding fish until his balls slapped her aroused 
genitals, then screwing her clenching ass-cheeks back as he withdrew until 
only the bulbous mushroom-shaped head was in her cunt and savagely fucking 
with her anus the full length of her husband's plundering cudgel. 

She felt like a volleyball as their powerful bodies slammed time after time 
against her, and now Beth was completely relaxed, an eager participant in 
this new and savage way of fucking. Their muscular lunges battered her hotly 
sweating flesh like it was foam rubber. 

Beth twisted her head, and for the first time realized there was a huge 
mirror under the canopy over the bed. She could not believe that this was 
really herself reflected in the rose-tinted glass, but there she was, hair 
flailing, nostrils flared in lewd, wanton passion as the two thick, rampant 
cocks drilled relentlessly into her hotly craving body. The very immorality 
and obscenity of it drove the newly awakened girl to higher and higher peaks 
of wanton, shameful lust, and again she felt an orgasm ripple through her 
thrashing body like a flash flood, sweeping everything before it. 

"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck meeee, you lovely bastards! Make me feel your pricks 
in my ass and cunt! Oh, God! Fm cumming again!" She shuddered with the 
intensity of her orgasm and saw the gleaming cum squirting from the pulsing 
mouth of her spasming cunt, pumped out by the piston of flesh which was 
plunging and boring deeper and deeper into the furnace of her loins. Her 
heels beat a tattoo on Jack Kimble's humping back, and Beth sobbed 
incoherently, "More . . . more! Harder . . . HARDER! Ooooohh, keep fucking!" 

She could hardly hear her own voice. She was conscious really of nothing but 
the male flesh that was filling her to the bursting point. She was sure 
she'd be too weak to walk for hours, but then, if she stayed in the bed, 
more nice things might happen to her. 

"Damn, I can't keep this up much longer," Harry panted as he screwed wildly 
into his wife's hotly receptive anus. 

"She's enough to wear out a platoon of Marines," Jack agreed, his hands now 
clutching Beth's sweat-slick breasts and kneading them. 

"A minute more, and I'll cum again!" the straining girl gasped. "Can we all 
cum together? That would be wild!" 

"We can try," her husband said. "Ready, Jack? Well, FUCK HER!" 

They pummeled the helpless girl between them, buffeting her back and forth, 
driving their rigid spikes of male flesh deep into her yielding, demanding 
body, bringing Beth to the peak of lewd sensual ecstasy again. Just as her 
loins began to erupt with the fury of a volcano, she felt the two massive 
cocks swell and begin to twitch as the mushroom-shaped heads ballooned. And 
then came the searing hot jets of her lovers' cum, gushing into her pussy 
and tightly clutching anus simultaneously. 

The three of them were screaming out their lust-crazed pleasure in unison, 
and the scarlet bedspread was whitened with their thick semen. Panting, the 
trio lay, exhausted, drained, their bodies glistening with sweat. 

"I never knew there was anything like that," Beth mumbled finally as they 
lay twined together. Neither of the men wanted to withdraw from the hot 
moist depths of her quaking body until the afterglow of their maniac 
screwing had faded. When they did, long strings of silvery white cum linked 
the heads of their cocks to her vagina and rectum, and Beth looked for 
something to wipe her streaked thighs clean. 

"Hey, let me, all of you," Marcia said. 

She knelt over them and in turn laved them with her long, slithering tongue, 
eagerly licking up every droplet and string of semen, and then glued her 
mouth to Beth's cunt and sucked it clean. 

The bathroom had a massive tub in addition to a shower that would have 
accommodated a basketball team. Languorously, the two couples soaked and 
soaped in warm water, then showered the suds away in a biting stream of cold 
water. It was nearly sun up when they had finally toweled themselves dry. 

Beth felt weak and wobbly and said as much, to which Marcia replied with a 
chuckle, "No wonder! You were the meat in the sandwich for an hour and 
twenty-three minutes. I timed it!" 

Despite their exertions, none felt up to more than a light breakfast. Coffee 
and fruit juice and toast and jam. Then Beth and Harry went next door to 
their house long enough to change clothes. Beth stopped to marvel at and 
caress the white Rolls convertible and pictured herself wheeling up to the 
Indian Springs Country Club. There was no other Rolls in the county. 

When they returned to the Kimble's, they discovered Jack had been doing some 
thinking. 

This was one hell of a weekend, and it's not over yet. A rare thing is going 
here, and Marcia and I have been talking. Living as close as we do makes 
everything convenient no snoopers would know who's at which house, or why. 
But one thing bothers me." 

"What's that, Jack?" Harry asked. 

"I'm afraid we might get bored with each other after a time. What do you 
think of keeping an eye out for another couple or even two!? Young, 
beautiful people with enough savvy to handle an arrangement like this?" 

"We could think about it," Beth said. As a matter-of-fact, the closeness had 
begun to bother her now that she'd had time to think. "But whom, and how 
would we approach them? Indian Springs is still small enough that it doesn't 
take much to get tongues flapping." 

"At the bank I've got access to information ordinarily not available," Jack 
said. "Without anyone knowing, I can run checks on people faster and better 
than the FBI." 

"Variety is the spice of life," Harry said in agreement. 

That night the two couples slept in or rather occupied the big bed in the 
red room. Jack Kimble found no need for Pernod or pot. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

A solution to the proposed expansion presented itself the next day. Jack and 
Harry were at work. Beth was acquainting herself with the Rolls and Marcia 
went along for company. As they drove slowly down the main street of Indian 
Springs, giving everyone a good chance to gawk, a mini-skirted girl flagged 
them down from the sidewalk at the town square. 

"Laurie Masters," Beth said, puzzled, as she recognized Harry's pert young 
secretary. "I thought she'd be working today." 

She parked and the elfin girl almost ran to the car, the brief dress flaring 
up to show lacy black panties. Her young pointed breasts jiggled. 
Breathlessly, she said, "So this is it! I heard about this car as a 
matter-of-fact, that's why I'm not working this afternoon. The sales boss 
called me in to do the papers on a rush basis yesterday, so I'm free. Oh, 
wow!" 

"Hop in, honey, and see how the rich people ride," Marcia said, winking. She 
fit Laurie in the middle, and Beth headed the sleek convertible toward the 
foothills as the secretary leaned back in the soft, rich leather. The sun 
was hot, but the speed of the car was enough to cool them, and Marcia said, 
"Beth, swing by the house, and we'll have a drink." 

Laurie's bare, golden-tanned leg brushed Beth's, and as it did, a thought 
flashed into the tall, shapely brunette's mind. 

Casually, she let her hand drop to the sun-warmed thigh and remain there. 
After a moment, she squeezed lightly and traced little circles with her 
fingernails. She caught Lauries sudden suspicious glance from the comer of 
her eye. Laurie leaned toward Marcia and whispered. Marcia whispered back 
for a minute or two. Beth could see a look of unbelief on the auburn-haired 
girl's fresh young face as her head swiveled back. Beth increased the 
intimate pressing of her fingers and felt the soft thighs part. Then Laurie 
took her hand and drew it up to the damp warmth of her cunt and snuggled 
closer. When there were no more houses on the winding road, she rested her 
head on Beth's bare shoulder and began to hum. 

They garaged the car and settled in the shade by the pool with tall, cold 
drinks. Laurie couldn't take her eyes from Beth's prominent breasts or long, 
tanned perfectly sculpted legs. 

"I told Laurie you're a player," Marcia said. 

"A rookie, but I'm learning the game," Beth said with a smile. 

"I-I never suspected, Mrs. Lansing," the secretary said. 

"And I didn't have any idea about you until Marcia told me. And it's Beth, 
unless I'm in the office, okay?" 

They slowly finished their drinks. Then, without a word exchanged, the three 
beautiful women went upstairs to the red bedroom. They were still there, 
lazily dreaming in the afterglow of carnal pleasure when Jack came in, 
trailed by Harry. 

"Ho, ho!" Jack Kimble said. "Lo, we have company." 

"We've been recruiting," Marcia said flippantly. Harry looked down at the 
naked body of his elfin secretary and grinned. He'd had some suspicions 
anyway and was glad to confirm them. 

"Did you explain the situation to Laurie all of it?" 

"Oh yes, Mr. Kimble and I want in," she said with a wicked, wanton smile and 
fluttering of her tongue. 

"I'm sure you'd be a delightful addition," the banker told Laurie. "But 
there might be a problem. We thought it would be best to keep this to 
couples, married or otherwise." 

"Well, if I can get a little help, that won't be much of a problem. I'm 
about to get married to 

Bill Barrow, who has the sports shop. And believe me, Bill will go for 
anything. He knows I go both ways and he likes to watch me with a girl." 

"Our kind of guy," Harry Lansing put in. 

"What's the problem?" Jack Kimble asked. 

"The usual one money. Bill's only had the shop a few months. It's making a 
good living, but it takes forever to save up for a house and furniture, you 
know?" 

"Buy a mobile home I know a good dealer," Harry injected. 

"Just what we had in mind," Laurie replied. "Harry, you know that forty-foot 
double-wide with all the goodies? The one that's been around so long it's 
growing moss? You were talking about running a special to get rid of it. 
Maybe we could swing that." 

Harry knew the coach. It was a good one, but the floor plan wasn't right for 
people with a kid or two, and it was too big for just a couple, unless they 
had some use for the second bedroom. And it was eating up a lot of flooring 
money just sitting. He pondered a few minutes and said, "Laurie, if you'd be 
happy with it, you can have it at the invoice price. Old Easy Terms here 
will fix up the downstroke." 

"Thanks, but no thanks," the miniature girl said. 

"You want it for a wedding present?" Harry shot back. 

"It isn't last year's model. It's the model from the year before that. It 
won't book out at invoice now," Laurie said with secretarial efficiency. 

"But it's brand new!" Harry protested, sensing he'd lost another argument 
with a female. 

"Harry, give it to the little girl at current book and write the rest off 
your taxes," Jack Kimble advised. "You can't win." 

"What the hell," Harry surrendered. He winked at Laurie Masters. "As long as 
you're going to be one of the group. You know, I've wanted to ball you ever 
since you walked into the office job hunting." 

"Well," the diminutive beauty said. "Beth -Marcia get the hell out of this 
bed and give us some fucking room!" 

She was good. She was very damn good. Clutching and grabbing and biting 
wildly, and she had what is known as snappin' turtle pussy. 

Later she called Bill Barrow, and her fianc' came over to join them. He was 
a tall, rangy outdoors type in his early twenties, and in honor of his 
coming, they put on clothes. He instantly accepted the deal on the mobile 
home, saying he could use the spare room for an office and write the thing 
off on his taxes. With a grin he also became an instant member of the group 
and was suitably initiated. 

For the remainder of the week everything went smoothly on all fronts. It was 
late Friday evening and only Harry was missing from the gathering in the big 
living room at the Kimble's. 

When he came in he was swearing under his breath. He rarely cursed, and when 
he did, it was with just cause. 

"Harry what's happened?" Beth said anxiously. 

"This, goddamn it, has happened," he snapped, handing her a telegram. "From 
the factory that built that monstrous motor home I was so damned glad to get 
rid of I let you keep the Rolls. Read it!" 

Beth took the telegram, skimmed it and began to laugh so hard she could 
hardly read, but she managed to get through. 

Dear Harry Lansing: 

Congratulations on sale of our deluxe special built Ridgerunner to famous 
showbiz personality; you are first dealer in nation to accomplish this. It 
proves your worth as a member of this organization. In appreciation of your 
industry and superb salesmanship, we are shipping this date two more units. 
Again, congratulations. 

"Oh, the bastards!" he said through gritted teeth. "The dirty rotten fucking 
bastards!" 

He was still swearing as the three laughing women dragged him to the red 
bedroom. 


THE END
