Four To A Bed
by Milton Granby


INTRODUCTION 

Thoughtful Americans from all sections of the community are trying to come 
to terms with the new concepts of sexual morality that have burst upon the 
national scene. Television, films, magazines and the family living room are 
ringing with passionate discussion and argument over the challenging new 
code of behavior in the field of sexual behavior. 

Two salient articles of faith in the new ethics are the demand for freedom 
of sexual activity and the insistence on honesty in the encounters between 
sexual partners. How do these two current requirements actually apply in 
everyday contemporary life? Do they work together or are they largely 
incompatible in action? 

Milton Granby, whose searching, probing work we are proud to offer the 
reading public, brings a deep understanding of the ambiguities of the new 
ethics to an explosive situation in the life of a newly-married couple. His 
direct unflinching probe helps to illuminate the insidious moral corruption 
that here accompanies a radical shift in the sexual standards of the young 
people of today. 

Harry and Sandy Pitt, a typically self-respecting, well brought-up young 
couple find that, for all the pretense and falseness they gradually strip 
away from their lives, they never succeed in ending the torturous thread of 
dishonesty to one another. 

Finally, in exercising their newfound freedom, they are revealed to be even 
more deeply entangled in lies and deception than in their repressed 
conventional beginnings. 

Mr. Granby leaves us with the disturbing conclusion that for all their 
experimentation, her characters have gained only in their knowledge of evil. 
Is that all we can gain from too much freedom and honesty? 

The Publishers 

 Chapter One 

Harry Pitt stared at the large color print in his hand, unable to take his 
eyes off the coolly smiling face of the beautiful woman depicted in it. It 
was an exceptionally good photograph, perfectly in focus, and Harry felt a 
tremor of thrilling excitement shoot unwillingly through him as his avid 
gaze continued to devour the sultry lines of the woman's exquisitely 
sculpted body. She was wearing a plain woolen dress, which at first glance 
seemed. somewhat prim, but as Harry continued to stare, the molded curve of 
her voluptuous breasts was revealed by the tight fit of her garment which 
also swept snugly along the arc of her hips, displaying to undoubted 
advantage the enticing flare of her thighs. Her glossy black hair was piled 
high on her head and her lips were slightly parted in a provocative smile. 

"She's really something isn't she?" Jeff's voice broke in on Harry's 
reverie, and he turned 

to look at his companion, feeling a stab of envy tugging at his stomach at 
the recollection that the glorious creature in the photograph was the other 
man's wife. 

"Y-yes, she is," he mumbled, reluctantly handing back the alluring snapshot. 

"Yes," Jeff went on, replacing the print in his large wallet. "My Ann's 
quite a girl. Six years of Wedded Bliss, as they call it, and I'm still as 
crazy about her as ever! And let me tell you," he added, wheeling around to 
face the younger man again, "it's not an easy job keeping Jeff Green 
interested!" 

Harry could well believe his newly acquired friend's egotistical remark. He 
was a tall muscular man in his middle forties with dark good looks and the 
air of a man who has been around the world a bit. Harry had already gleaned, 
from their limited conversation, that Jeff was a connoisseur as far as women 
were concerned, and he thought with a trace of bitterness that his stunning 
wife reflected the taste of an expert. 

"Hey, cheer up, man!" Jeff inveigled, putting his arm on the younger man's 
shoulder. "I thought that photo of Ann would chase away your blues! Of 
course, if you knew her, like I know her, you wouldn't be able to think of 
anything else! Boy, I can hardly wait to get back home and get her in--" 

"It's being in this goddamned cell that's driving me nuts!" Harry 
interrupted, angrily loosening his tie and opening the top button on his 
creased white shirt. His dark blue Brooks Brothers suit was beginning to be 
rumpled and his usually shiny shoes were coated with a thin film of grime. 

"I keep telling you, Harry; you've nothing to worry about. A day or two in 
the cooler never hurt anyone, and you'll be out come Monday, for sure. What 
about me? I've been here a week already, going Out of my mind wondering if 
that' sexy wife of mine hasn't found a new bed partner! You'd have something 
to complain about--" 

"But at least there's a valid reason why you're in here," Harry insisted 
obstinately and then laughed weakly. "Look Jeff, I didn't mean . . ." 

"No, you have a point," Jeff agreed, flicking some dust particles from the 
sleeve of his sports jacket. "They've got something on me or at least they 
think they have, but they haven't yet beat Mike . . . one of the best 
lawyers in the City!" 

"Well, I sure could use him!" Harry grimaced. "That's just it, you're 
somebody . . . a big shot . . . you'll find a way to get out of this 
goddamned hole. You've got the money and the contacts! I've got neither, and 
all I did was to go a few lousy miles over the speed limit!" His doubled 
fist came crashing down with a resounding smash on the small table beside 
the narrow beds. "And all because of that damned demonstration!" 

"Take it easy!" Jeff soothed, "I'm telling you, they're just cracking down 
on everyone this weekend. They're afraid with all the kids pouring in from 
everywhere." 

'Why the hell couldn't they stay at home? What do they know about the war? 
Dirty unkempt layabouts . . . a hard day's work would kill them! Sponging 
off their parents on the pretext of studying and then spending their time 
causing trouble, harassing the police, filling themselves up with dope. And 
who suffers? The innocent mugs, like me, trying to make an honest living 
after working my guts out to get through college! Christ! If I had one of 
those hairy bastards here now . . ." 

"Don't be so hard on them, my boy," Jeff suggested. "After all, it's time 
somebody stood up to the Machine which has been desperately trying to coat 
us with all the whitewash of conformity. I admire these kids! They--" 

"Don't tell me you're on their side!" Harry spat, fury burning in his 
intense blue eyes, his face distorted with rage. 

"Well, it's pretty obvious from my activities that I'm not a System man, 
isn't it?" Jeff smiled, examining his nails intently. 

A wave of depression swept over Harry, and wearily he sat down on the edge 
of the bed, sinking his head in his hands. Since the police had picked him 
up last night, everything was a nightmare. He felt he was in a trance when 
he found himself pushed into the cramped cell after being allowed the 
briefest of phone calls to his wife. He couldn't believe it was happening to 
him, Harry Pitt! And yet there was reality! Locked up in a decrepit cell 
with an amoral, slick gangster, held for the umpteenth time on some kind of 
gambling violation. What was the world coming to? None of this would have 
happened in the first place, he lamented, if those damned hippies, and 
good-for-nothing students hadn't decided to have their antiwar march here in 
Chicago this weekend. But they had, and he had the bad luck to be a few 
miles over the speed limit on one of the streets heavily patrolled by the 
riot squad. He closed his eyes in agony as he recalled his bad luck that led 
to his incarceration, and his mouth worded obscenities as he thought about 
the demonstrators. 

"I hope the police crack their goddamned skulls for them, the lazy 
sons-of-bitches! It's what they deserve. They should be kept off the streets 
so decent folk can get on with their lives!" 

"Well, there's nothing you can do about it now, anyway," Jeff commiserated. 
"Monday won't be long coming and you'll be out. As for me, God knows how 
long I'll be left in here this time!" 

Harry felt a sudden stab of sympathy for his newfound friend. His conviction 
was really serious . . . if he was found guilty, it could mean years of 
imprisonment. Maybe his own case wasn't so bad after all . . . 

"I haven't shown you a picture of my wife," Harry said suddenly, at once 
anxious to change the subject. He searched clumsily in his wallet and 
withdrew a small black and white photo. Without looking at it, he handed it 
to Jeff who immediately took it over to examine it in the light from the 
small barred window. 

"Wow! What a little angel!" he said, his eyes widening as he stared at the 
image of the lovely, almost ethereal blonde who was looking back at him with 
limpid dark eyes, her small oval face framed by a cloud of shimmering blonde 
hair. Yes, an angel, Harry thought, that's what Sandy is. 

"She's a real beaut!" Jeff exclaimed, "How old did you say she is?" 

"Eighteen!" Harry answered, suddenly shy. "We've only been married for two 
months. I know she's terribly young, but . . . but we couldn't wait!" 

"Yes, I can see why," Jeff mused, unable to draw his lascivious gaze away 
from the haunting beauty reflected in the fragile face of the young bride. 
Surreptitiously, he drew the tip of his tongue over his dry lips, his eyes 
still riveted on the photograph, as if spellbound by what he saw. The 
photograph was only a head and shoulders study, but Jeff could just make out 
the beginning of the swell of her ripe young breasts through her tightly 
drawn sweater, and a thrill of interest coursed through him. 

Christ! I'd give anything to get a taste of that little honeypot . . . She 
looks young and innocent and vulnerable . . . just what I like . . . Jeff's 
thoughts ran lewdly on, his eyes blurred from the strain of unwavering 
concentration. So sweet and tender. . . if I could only get my hands on that 
little piece. 

"She sure is a honey," he grinned to Harry, handing him back the photograph. 
"You picked a good one, and no mistake! Am I right?" Jeff winked and Harry 
felt pleased at his companion's praise. Yes, he felt proud of his young 
wife: so lovely, so gentle, such a perfect wife, except for. . . well . . . 
Involuntarily, Harry found his mind flitting back to the picture he'd seen 
of Jeff's wife, exuding self-assurance, sexiness, erotic promise. Sandy 
certainly didn't exude that! Harry thought, unable to repress the pang of 
bitterness which rose up inside him. If only she was more responsive, more 
welcoming physically. Ann would be, he was sure; you could tell that from 
her photograph. That was the only thing that marred their fairy-tale like 
marriage. It wasn't Sandy's fault; things would probably get better. If only 
she'd make an effort; show him that she loved him, like she was always 
saying she did. 

"How about a game of poker?" Jeff's loud voice broke in on the young 
husband's troubled thoughts and Harry was glad to be able to forget his 
worries in the absorbing card game. 

* 

* 

* 

Harry couldn't sleep. It wasn't so much the narrowness and hardness of the 
bed nor the stifling air of the small cell, as much as the turbulence of his 
thoughts. Even last night. his first night in jail, he had been able to fall 
into a relatively untroubled sleep. He was one of those people who possessed 
the faculty of being able to sleep anywhere and at any time, and he knew 
that this attribute would be useful to him when he had finished his training 
as a salesman and would have to go on the road. But now his mind was on fire 
with disturbing images and ideas. 

The horrible reality of his present position had penetrated to his inner 
consciousness, instilling him with a fear that the equilibrium of his life, 
his marriage with Sandy, everything, in fact, was in danger of toppling. He 
couldn't shake loose the doubts which tormented him any more than he could 
obliterate the image of an exquisite dark-haired beauty who was beckoning to 
him in a series of impressions delineated with startling clarity on his 
dazed brain. He couldn't banish the memory of Ann, Jeff's wife, from his 
head. He had had only a brief look at her photograph . . . why was her 
picture torturing him? He had a lovely young wife of his own; things, except 
for this present setback were going well. What was the matter with him? 
Sure, Sandy and he had their little difficulties. That was only natural. He 
really loved her; there was no doubt about that, and together they would 
solve their problem. It had been love at first sight for both of them, and 
even though Sandy was so young, they both knew they had to be together and 
had finally, after long argument, convinced her parents to allow them to 
marry. After the decision had been made, things seemed to look up, and he 
was accepted right out of college in a trainee program, and they were able 
to rent a great apartment which Sandy's father had discovered for them. And 
so they had got married, Sandy a ravishing beauty in a froth of white lace, 
her face glowing with love and excitement as she swept up the aisle on her 
father's arm. Harry remembered clearly how she looked when he finally was 
able to lead her down the aisle and how proud and happy he felt. And they 
lived happily ever after . . . 

Again, Harry experienced a wave of bitterness, a sort of emptiness which he 
knew had nothing to do with his being in jail. It was a feeling he had tried 
to suppress during the last two months, tried to ignore, pretend it wasn't 
there. But it was! A feeling of disappointment. Yes! He couldn't help 
feeling that he had been somehow cheated, and in some strange way, seeing 
the picture of Jeff's gorgeous sultry wife added to his discontent. He just, 
well, it was obvious, that Jeff's wife knew how to satisfy him in bed. And 
that was what mattered. If a man was happy with what he was getting in bed 
he was ready for anything, could face any problem the day might bring. And 
that's what's wrong with me! he complained silently as he changed his 
position in the cramped cell cot for the dozenth time. If only things were 
different! If only Sandy wasn't so cold . . . 

Sleep having eluded him completely, he sat up in bed, giving full rein to 
his worried thoughts. Poor Sandy. She had actually cried on the phone when 
he'd talked to her and told her what had happened to him. She had been so 
distressed, and Harry could just imagine her, lonely and upset at their 
apartment. It wasn't easy for her, he knew, because just after their 
marriage her parents had moved to Michigan, her father being transferred to 
Detroit. She had also quit her job in order to devote her entire time to 
Harry, and he knew she was really feeling the strain of the discordancy in 
their marriage. It wasn't really her fault. She was so young and naturally 
inexperienced: innocent really, of what married life really entailed. 

And things had gone wrong right from the very start. On their wedding night 
in fact. Harry flinched even now as he recalled that painful evening, and 
try as he might, he couldn't dam the flood of memories which came rushing 
back with such intensity as if they sought to alleviate their strength by 
being remembered and recalled. 

It had been a mistake to drive all the way to the resort on Lake Winnebago 
in Wisconsin right after their reception, he knew now, but Sandy had been so 
insistent, having everything planned in her mind and wanting things to be 
just right. He himself had wanted to stop and spend the night in Milwaukee 
because even though the drive wasn't that long, they were both strung out 
after the day and their nerves were at their snapping point already. But 
Sandy had pleaded, almost in tears, to continue, and he had acquiesced 
against his better judgment. But she looked so appealing in her pink going 
away suit that he hadn't the heart to deny her, and so they had driven on, 
arriving at their resort very late, a flat tire having added to their 
difficulties along the way. Their little cabin, however, was almost idyllic, 
very clean and cozy, just what they had hoped it would be. Harry had felt 
his tiredness and irritation fading away as he held his lovely new bride in 
his arms and felt the palpitating warmth of her frail body against his. Then 
she had rushed away and headed into the bathroom to prepare herself for bed, 
and Harry had sat down to wait, whiling away the time with a drink from the 
selection of half-pints arrayed in the cabinet in the living room. 

At last, Sandy had appeared and had stood in the doorway of the bathroom, 
her soft lovely body gracefully enhanced by the sheer chiffon of her long 
white nightgown. She had tied her blonde hair tressed up with a blue ribbon, 
and little curls fell down in wisps around her face. Her eyes seemed huge, 
like limpid pools in her pale face, and her natural trepidation added to the 
tender mystery of her doe-like appearance. Harry felt a wave of love wash 
over him for his beautiful young wife, and also felt the first really urgent 
stirrings of his prick against his leg as his eyes devoured for the first 
time the alluring semi-nakedness of his bride. 

Without a word, he had strode across the room and swept her into his arms, 
crushing her against him in a passionate, hungry kiss, demanding and eager. 
He felt her wince from the touch of his throbbing cock as it pulsated 
through the fabric of his pants, and misinterpreting her reaction, he 
hurriedly stripped off his shirt and then his pants, allowing the turgid 
erection of his penis to leap unimpeded upward. Sandy's startled gaze had 
fallen on his huge pulsating hardness, and Harry remembered now how a stab 
of anger had teased him as her horrified reaction had registered on her pale 
face. But he had cautioned himself that it was all new to her . . . to take 
it easy and everything would be all right. Once more he had clasped her to 
him, overwhelmed with love for her, overpowered by the intoxicating nearness 
of her trembling body. He could feel the supple softness of her nubile young 
breasts through the sheer cloth of her nightie, and eagerly his hands worked 
their way down the velvety curves of her slender body. His heavy 
blood-filled cock, hungry and avid, jabbed against the tender flesh of her 
thigh as his mouth found hers and his tongue rushed inside the warm buttery 
cavern of her mouth. She responded eagerly to his kiss, her tongue fencing 
with his, her lips firm yet resilient beneath his. 

Hardly daring to breathe, he had guided her over to the bed, gently raising 
the hem of her long nightdress, revealing to his excited eyes for the first 
time the full glory of her perfect body. He remembered, as he sat in the 
darkness of his cell, how his eyes had widened at the first glimpse of the 
sculpted ivory of her shapely thighs, the enticing triangle, of her 
quivering little pussy with just a glint of moist pinkness shimmering 
through the golden wisps of her trembling outer lips, further up to where 
her lovely young body was surmounted by twin peaks of exquisite firmness, 
capped by roseate nipples already turgid with her rising passion. He had no 
idea she'd be so lovely! He couldn't take his eyes off her, and his mouth 
longed to cover every inch of her beautiful flesh with hot burning kisses. 

Take it slow, he reminded himself again as he lay her back on the soft 
coverlet of the bed, completely naked now. She was mewling in a low hoarse 
voice as his hands crept over her tingling flesh, and every nerve ending in 
her virginal young body seemed to be alive with intoxicating delight. 

Then her small slender hand had reached down and with almost childlike 
curiosity, had brushed against the swollen flesh of his erectly throbbing 
penis. Her touch was like a firebrand on the hotly palpitating flesh, and he 
couldn't suppress a moan as her fingers tightened around the pounding 
circumference sending shoots of red-hot pleasure darting through him. Her 
touch sent off the spark of animal passion lurking beneath the carefully 
controlled exterior of his measured actions. Red demons seemed to dance a 
lewd waltz before his swimming eyes, and his body, of its own volition, 
swept aside his rational caution, bent on satisfying its own raging lust. 
With a harsh animalistic groan, he had swept aside the slender columns of 
her thighs, revealing the open slit of her quivering pussy, a deep luscious 
furor of pink virginal moistness. He could remember clearly now as he 
thought over his wedding night, the look of pure horror and fear that had 
come over his young bride's passion-softened features as she suddenly 
realized what was happening. But he couldn't help himself. His body was out 
of his control, and he himself was swept mercilessly along on the tide of 
his bestial lust. 

"No! No, please, N000000 . . ." Her piercing scream had reverberated 
throughout the cabin, and Harry felt sure it had resounded in the woods 
outside as well. Even now, two months later, he still believed he could hear 
that soulful scream cutting him to the marrow, instilling a self-loathing 
inside him which he felt would never be erased. But on his wedding night, 
his mind was blunted by his desire and her fear and Sandy's fingers had 
tightened even more around the hot throbbing pole of his prick, inciting him 
to further abandoned passion. 

Without regard for her pleas, he had guided the huge thickness of his penis 
towards the tiny cringing hole of her petal-shaped vagina, and without a 
moment's hesitation, had rammed forward with all the strength of his brutal 
lust, splitting his bride's virginal young flesh aside in one hymen-ripping 
stroke as his gigantic cock cleaved through her tight futilely resisting 
cuntal passage. He remembered that her first terrified scream had frozen on 
her fear-contorted lips as paralytic disbelief took over, turning her 
tortured body to ice, distorting her face into a mask of numbed horror. But 
his lust was a cruel tyrannical master, driving him on relentlessly, and he 
couldn't help himself, so great was his need to pound himself to completion 
up inside the virginal sheath between her lovely open thighs. 

It was all over quickly. The urgency of his frenetic lust, the tightness of 
her unaccustomed cuntal passage, the numbing unreality of the whole act, all 
converged and turned him into a raving caricature of himself. After a series 
of hard deep thrusts, he felt the rumblings of his sperm as it clamored for 
release, and with a snarl, he began to empty the hot thick liquid deeply up 
into his wife's open belly, filling her with the supreme offering of his 
manhood, spurting jet after jet of heated white semen into her penis-filled 
depths. 

When at last he slumped over her inert body, it was a moment or two more 
before he realized what he had done. There was no sign of life in her pale 
tear-stained face, and her delicate young body seemed somehow soiled and 
sullied by his brutal attack. 

A consuming sense of regret pervaded him as he stared open-mouthed at the 
crumpled hurt body of his lovely bride, and a flush of shame enveloped him, 
crimsoning his face. 

"Sandy . . . oh baby, what have I done?" he'd whispered desperately, 
searching for some sign of consciousness in her still face. After a long 
moment she had opened her eyes, and Harry felt he would never forget the 
look of reproach and disgust, yes, disgust which was reflected in her dark 
smoldering gaze. What happened after, Harry didn't like to think about. He 
had begged her forgiveness, assuring her it would never happen again. He 
blamed himself completely and promised to make up to her. If she had 
screamed out at him, told him she hated him, he could have borne it. In 
fact, he would have felt better. But instead, she had heard his 
self-recriminations with calm indifference, telling him to forget about it, 
that it was over now. 

That was what hurt most, he reflected now, as he settled himself back in the 
narrow bed, wishing for sleep to come. Her resignation to his brutal action, 
her obvious acceptance without demur of his callous behavior, as if she 
expected no better of him! 

They had never referred to that night again, but Harry knew that it was on 
her mind, as it was certainly on his each time they made love. Not that they 
did it that often, because there was just no pleasure in it for either of 
them. It was his fault, of course, for starting off on the wrong foot, and 
he was never again able to bring her to anything approaching the swoon of 
passion she had experienced before he had lost control of himself. Now, she 
just lay inert and unmoving with her legs limply spread, obviously wishing 
it was all over with, waiting for him to empty his sperm into her before 
falling asleep. In other respects, their marriage was perfect, and Harry was 
continually amazed and impressed at his wife's homemaking skills. Every day 
she seemed like a different woman to him, always exciting, mysterious. 

Things have got to get better between us in bed, he thought desperately, or 
I'll go crazy! He knew things were reaching an impasse whereby his continual 
sexual frustration coupled with his self-disgust because of what he had 
done, would make him do something irrevocable. 

His thoughts bitter and jumbled, he fell into a light sleep, tortured by 
horrifying nightmares in which Sandy was lying on the bed, encased in a 
block of ice while he, chained and manacles, desperately tried to reach her, 
shrieking wildly: 

If only I could melt that ice . . . 

Chapter Two 

Sandy Pitt put the phone gently back in its cradle, tears brimming to her 
eyes. He was coming home! They had released him already! At 9:00, and it was 
now 9:30! Any minute he'd walk in the door of their apartment. 

A feeling of tremendous relief rushed over the sobbing young wife as she 
gave vent to the terrible feelings which had convulsed her ever since she 
had received Harry's constrained phone call from the police station on 
Friday night. The weekend was like a nightmare to her! There was no one she 
could turn to. Her parents were far away in Detroit, and the one or two 
friends she had she felt she didn't know well enough to tell them what had 
happened. The hours seemed interminable. She had forced herself to eat, but 
had given up after a few mouthfuls. She couldn't sleep, and had desperately 
tried some mild sedatives, which somehow only seemed to make her more jumpy 
than ever. Several times she had called the police station, but they firmly 
refused to let her speak to her husband. 

Terrible visions rose up in her mind of Harry being flung into a dirty, 
crowded cell, maybe even victimized by the other inmates. Worse still, 
accused of something terrible which of course he didn't do. And all because 
of that stupid demonstration! 

"You can't put him in jail just for speeding!" she'd almost yelled at the 
policeman, who'd answered the phone when she called first thing on Saturday. 
But they could and did, with a few choice remarks about guys who were 
speeding and giving them something else to do when their hands were already 
full. 

Sandy felt full of an unreasonable dislike for the demonstrators, whom she 
had seen on television. Normally, she felt somewhat in sympathy with their 
views, although of course, she kept this well hidden from Harry, who 
harbored no such sentiments, but now she cold-heartedly wished them all in 
jail. To make matters worse, in her eyes, the demonstration had been 
remarkably peaceful, and except for a few scattered and very minor 
incidents, the police had nothing to do but keep watch. If there had been a 
lot of rioting and fighting, Sandy reasoned, there might be some 
justification for Harry being in jail, but she didn't even have the solace 
of that. 

But now, it was all over, and Harry was released. She could hardly wait to 
see him again. The weekend was like an eternity, and she missed him all the 
more because since their marriage, her whole existence was centered on him. 
He was her lifeline to the outside world, and she was temporarily cut off, a 
frightening experience. She knew she shouldn't be so dependent on him, but 
assured herself that once she was used to the married state, and things were 
running smoothly, she could afford to develop other interests. But Harry 
came first and foremost. She could still hardly believe that they were 
actually married! She had been amazed when he, the college senior, had 
deigned to notice her, just out of high school. But he had, and had fallen 
in love with her. From the moment she set eyes on him, she knew he was the 
man for her, and that she wanted nothing more than to marry him. And so she 
had got her way, and she was happy . . . wasn't she? 

Yes! Yes! her mind proclaimed. She had everything she wanted -- a lovely 
apartment, a wonderful husband, lots of free time to cook wonderful dishes, 
and do the needlepoint she loved to do. She knew it was rather an 
old-fashioned hobby, and her girlfriends used to laugh at her for it, but 
Harry had been delighted when he found out, and loved to point out the 
cushion covers and napkins she had worked. Yes, everything was perfect, 
except for . . . 

She couldn't help expressing a sigh of disappointment at the realization 
that the intimate side of marriage was not all she had hoped it would be. In 
fact, the first night, which she had looked forward to so eagerly, and 
planned in such detail, turned into a terrible fiasco, which gave her a 
twinge of terror every time she thought about it. And things hadn't 
improved. She had a feeling it was all her fault, but she couldn't help it. 
Harry was more experienced than she, who had no experience at all, and she 
couldn't help feeling that he should be more patient and explicit with her. 
She had reconciled herself to the knowledge that in the past Harry had 
sexual relations with other women, and had nurtured the hope that he would 
be able to initiate and guide her all the better because of that. But 
sometimes, she got the impression that he was impatient with her timidity 
and her restraint, which she felt was only natural. 

With a little sigh, she turned her attention back to the wall design she was 
stitching, which she was going to have framed and sent to Harry's mother in 
Rockford. Things will work out. I know they will! she assured herself, 
almost fiercely, as she began to place the intricate little stitches, her 
ear attuned for the sound of her husband's homecoming. 

* 

* 

* 

Harry pressed the button for the seventeenth floor and watched the automatic 
doors close in front of him. He was alone in the elevator, and a little in 
awe of the sumptuousness of the building. Somehow, he had never imagined 
Jeff living in a beautiful high-rise like this one, right on Lake Shore 
Drive. Of course, now that he thought about it, Jeff had kept himself 
impeccably clean and tidy while he was in the cell and seemed to have a real 
love of luxury. I wouldn't mind living here myself! Harry grinned as he 
stepped out on the seventeenth floor, and made his way along the luxuriantly 
carpeted floor to Apartment Number 1708, where the Greens lived. Harry still 
hadn't got used to being a free man, and wondered what former convicts, who 
had spent years behind bars, must feel like after emerging. He knew for sure 
he wouldn't take his freedom for granted again, the way he did before the 
weekend. He felt like crying with relief when the guard had come and told 
him he could go. He was so jubilant for a moment, that he forgot about his 
friend Jeff who was still being detained. 

"Don't worry about me," Jeff had assured him, "it won't be long now till 
something happens." 

Harry felt deflated at that, wondering what it must be like to have no 
notion of when you would be released. 

"It's Ann I'm worried about, though," Jeff had continued, "They don't let 
her visit me as yet, and she must be going out of her mind with worry. Of 
course, she phones and finds out how I'm doing, but that's not the same 
thing!" 

"If you like, I'll go and see her," Harry heard himself suggesting, "and let 
her know you're okay." 

"Would you?" Jeff's face was visibly relieved. "It would really set my mind 
at rest, and I know it would do Ann the world of good to get the word 
firsthand more or less!" 

"I'd be glad to!" Harry assured him gallantly. 

"I'd really appreciate it, old buddy," Jeff thanked him, squeezing his hand 
in a tight handshake. 

As soon as he had stepped out on the pavement, Harry decided to go visit 
Mrs. Green, give her her husband's message, and then hurry home to spend the 
whole day, and night, with Sandy. He wondered briefly if he should call his 
wife, and let her know he was on his way, but decided against it. I'll 
surprise her, he smiled to himself.. 

He rang the bell to No. 1708, his mind still full of his wife, and how glad 
he would be to see her. He hoped she'd be happy to see him too, and maybe 
they could start anew. Perhaps the weekend he'd spent away in jail would be 
like a purging, giving them a chance to make a fresh start . . . 

"Hello! Can I help you?" A rich sultry voice broke in on his thoughts, and 
Harry looked up to find himself confronting the most beautiful woman he'd 
ever seen in his life. For a moment, he could just stand there, staring at 
her open-mouthedly, his eyes widening as he took in the full voluptuousity 
of her spectacular figure, clad strikingly in a tight red sweater and 
clinging black toreador pants. 

After a moment, his voice returned to him and he gulped a reply. 

"Y-yes, I'm Harry Pitt . . . I'm . . . I'm a friend of Jeff's!" 

"Well, come in, Harry," the gorgeous raven-haired woman chuckled, "I'm 
always glad to meet a friend of Jeff's!" 

Harry followed her into the apartment, and his eyes stared in disbelief as 
they took in the utter sumptuousness of the living room. A long low couch 
ran the length of one wall, and was matched by several occasional chairs of 
the same modern style, all covered in a restful beige material. A stunning 
marble and wrought iron coffee table was placed in front of the couch, and 
the beautiful dark wood parquet floor was almost covered by a deep shaggy 
rug in off-white, made from some exotic animal which Harry couldn't. place. 
It's wool was almost like Astrakhan but somehow longer and even curlier From 
the splendor of the rug, Harry's attention was drawn to the magnificent 
window, really a solid glass wall, which gave a breathtaking view out onto 
Lake Michigan, with Lake Shore Drive and the verdant expanse of Lincoln Park 
below. Harry had never seen an apartment like it. If his lovely hostess 
noticed his astonishment, she didn't show it. 

"Won't you sit down?" she suggested, gesturing to the sofa, "and I'll fix us 
a drink. Will Scotch be all right?" 

Mrs. Green disappeared into the kitchen and Harry sank down on the couch. He 
was beginning to wonder if he should have come. His wife didn't seem to be 
too worried about her husband, and he wondered for an agonizing moment if 
Jeff had been playing a trick on him. But Mrs. Green reappeared and 
dispelled his doubts. 

"It was very good of you to come and see me. You know, I've been very lonely 
since Jeff's been in jail!" she explained, handing him a glass. 

"Here's to us both!" the dazzling older woman smiled, raising her glass, and 
they both took a deep sip of their Scotch. 

"Now, tell me," Mrs. Green said, looking at Harry from under thick dark 
lashes, "how is Jeff?" 

Harry, setting down his glass on the coffee table, told her all about how he 
himself came to be in prison, and related to her how worried Jeff was about 
her. 

"I hope he gets out soon, Mrs. Green," Harry said earnestly, finishing his 
drink. He was surprised to find out how relaxed he was feeling, quite at 
home in fact. 

"I do too, and please, Harry, do call me Ann!" She smiled quixotically as 
she refilled their glasses.. As the strong liquor warmed Harry right to the 
bone, he discovered that he really liked Ann and felt a sort of rapport with 
her, so much so that he began to confide in her about Sandy and the 
depressing line their marriage was taking. 

"You see, she's so young and innocent . . . she didn't really know what to 
expect!" he was explaining, the Scotch loosening his tongue considerably. 

"Yes," Ann agreed, her large blue eyes fixed unwaveringly on him, "it's 
really a shame. I do think that girls should have more experience in that 
sort of thing before entering marriage!" 

"Well, I don't!" Harry retorted with sudden vehemence. "Even if it has its 
drawbacks, I'm glad Sandy was a virgin when I married her. In fact, if she . 
. ." 

"Oh come now," Ann teased, "a little experience never hurt anyone. I take it 
you are quite experienced yourself!" 

Harry found himself blushing. 

"Of c-course," he stammered, "but it's different with a man! A man is 
expected to -- well, to know about these things!" 

"Oh really?" Ann taunted, a curious glint in her eye. 

"Sure, so that he can teach his wife, show her how to respond . . ." 

"Well, all I can say is, with all your experience," Ann smirked, "you don't 
seem to be doing a very good job!" 

Harry's face was crimson now. How dare she leer at him like that? Make 
insinuating remarks about his sexual ability? He had a good mind to show her 
a thing or two . . . 

Ann was sitting very close to him, and suddenly, Harry felt her hand burning 
into his thigh. His head was spinning slightly and he began to have 
difficulty focusing his eyes, but he was able to determine that her face was 
very close to his. 

"I could teach you a few things that would really help you out!" she was 
whispering, her lips barely brushing his flaming cheek. 

"W-what?" he gasped, his mouth hanging open in profound amazement. "W-what 
do you mean?" 

"Here, let me show you . . ." she breathed, and then her hand slid up the 
length of his thigh and brushed against the flaccid flesh of his genitals! 

Harry nearly yelled out at the intensity of the feelings which coursed 
through him at her touch, and as suddenly as it happened, she had withdrawn 
her hand again and was sitting a little away from him on the couch, looking 
demure and innocent. Had he imagined it all? Her whispered insinuations, her 
lewd touch? Had his weekend in prison made him over-imaginative? What was 
going on? 

"Ann, I . . ." he began helplessly. He meant to have it out with her, get to 
the bottom of her strange behavior, show her that he wasn't a puppet to be 
played with at her will. But somehow, he couldn't go on. He could barely 
look at her. His prick was awakened by her electrical touch and was now 
fermenting against his thigh in an agony of frustration, and against his 
will, his brain was writhing with a series of lewd images which tormented 
him with their unadulterated lust. He felt that he must be going mad, losing 
his grip completely. What could he do? He should leave! Yes, he'd get up and 
leave right now . . . 

Determined, he turned to face Ann, his words of farewell dying on his lips 
as his eyes widened in sheer astonishment and his mouth hinged open like a 
broken door. She was oblivious to him, leaning back against the couch, and 
her hands were furiously manipulating the full ripe mounds of her breasts! 
Harry stared in disbelief as her fingers expertly kneaded the pliant flesh 
through the soft cashmere of her sweater, her lips parted, her eyes 
half-closed and glazed with excitement. Through her fingers, Harry could see 
the clear outline of her nipples thrusting against the soft fleece, and 
wondered for a thrilling second, if she was wearing a bra. She was grinding 
her hips into the seat of the sofa, rotating them in a pagan rhythm of her 
own. He stared, mesmerized, unable to do anything but feast his eyes on the 
amazing sight of the beautiful woman churning under self-induced pleasure. 

After a moment, her eyes opened and she was smiling at him. 

"Harry, I think we can really have fun together . . . " she rasped, leaning 
a little closer to him. 

"Ann," he said resolutely, "I've really got to go!" He began pacing up and 
down, not looking at her, determined to make his speech. "Sandy is expecting 
me. She'll be worried and . . . 

"Harry . . ." his name sounded hoarse and lascivious. He looked up and all 
color drained from his face as he saw that Ann was standing in front of him, 
her hands on her hips, wearing only her toreador pants and a bra. She had 
taken off her sweater! Harry's eyes were dimmed momentarily from focusing 
harshly on the curvaceous valley of her twin orbs, creamy and full and 
gently heaving encased in a light red bra, a mere strip of frail lace. He 
could barely make out the darkening circles of her nipples through the 
filigree and he thought he could see them burgeoning into hardness under his 
very gaze. 

Without a word, Ann reached back with her hands and Harry continued to gape 
in disbelief as he watched the soft red undergarment fall away, revealing to 
his startled stare the ivory globes of her perfect breasts, the rosette 
nipples like ruby spears at the top of the snowy peaks. 

Harry was rooted to the spot, unable to move. His first impulse was to 
leave, not to get caught up in anything he might regret later, but somehow, 
Ann had woven a spell over him, and he was entangled in the gossamer of her 
charm, unable to break free. He was a prisoner, held by the mastery of her 
incredible actions. Now she was humming a little tune, with a catchy air 
that Harry didn't recognize, and her whole body was gyrating in time to her 
own melody. Her hands had reached up and were fondling the smooth flesh of 
her pulsating breasts, running the brown berries of her nipples through her 
long sinewy fingers, drawing out their turgidity to incredible hardness. As 
Harry continued to stare dumbfounded, her hands fell once more and blinking 
with incredulity, he watched as she pulled down the side zipper and began to 
ease the slinky pants over her graceful hips, slipping them down past her 
knees, finally stepping out of them altogether, before standing there 
unabashed, wearing only a pair of brief red panties that matched the bra she 
had just discarded. Her small waist was emphasized by her womanly hips which 
in turn fell to shapely tender thighs, but Harry's eyes were riveted solely 
on the dark thatch between her legs, barely visible through the red lace. 
His eyes were drawn as though by a magnet to the enticing spot, and he felt 
that the intensity of his stare must be burning a hole in her panties. As if 
thoroughly aware of his thoughts, Ann dipped her fingers inside the tops of 
the panties and with agonizing slowness, began to draw them down over her 
thighs, until they slipped to the floor where she nimbly discarded them. She 
was completely naked! Harry felt as if he was in a dream. He was standing in 
front of a completely nude woman, the most beautiful he's seen in his life, 
and her perfect body matched the wonder of her incredible face. With a final 
wanton gesture, Ann released the pins that held her raven tresses in place 
and they cascaded down over her shoulders, giving her the look of a rare 
Renoir beauty. 

"Yes, Harry," she was beginning to croon, as her hands raced up and down her 
statuesque body, thrilling her visibly, "I think we're really going to get 
along . . . I'm so anxious to give you the benefit of my experience, so that 
you can help out little Sandy . . . although I'm sure a handsome guy like 
you can't have much to learn . . . I'm really sure you know how to please a 
woman, a real woman, that is . . . don't you . . . don't you, Harry?" 

A gurgled sound came by way of a response from Harry. 'He was speechless. He 
was defenseless. He wanted to leave, at least he thought he did, but there 
was something about this woman . . . in another minute, all self-control 
would be gone and he wouldn't be responsible for his actions! But, God! He 
couldn't do this to another man's wife, not a buddy who had trusted him to 
come and comfort her while he suffered all alone in a jail cell 

"Oh, yes, Harry," she continued to drone, "I really can't wait for you to 
show me how good you are in bed . . . you would like to get between my legs 
and fuck me, wouldn't you? Yes, I can tell you would . . ." 

The lewd word was the spark that threw his resolve aside and ignited the 
volcano of his mounting desire and with an almost inhuman moan, he moved 
towards her, propelled like an automation to the object of his passion. It 
seemed to him that Ann was looking at him with something akin to triumph in 
her deep blue eyes, but he wasn't sure, because the nearness of her maddened 
him as his arms reached out and clasped her palpitating naked body towards 
him, and his lips ground down on hers, forcing them apart, his tongue 
pushing eagerly into the hot cavern of her mouth. Her tongue was eager too 
and tripped lightly around his, whipping up a foam of warm saliva as the two 
organs entwined. He could feel the hardness of her erect nipples digging 
into his chest and she was churning her vaginal mound against his thigh with 
increasing fervor. 

"Oh, Ann . . . "he murmured, his lips tracing a hot wet path over her neck, 
down the hollow of her throat, lower still to orally caress the soft downy 
tops of her opalescent breasts. 

He drew in his breath suddenly as once more her hand reached insistently 
down and began to stroke the hot throbbing pulsation of his prick in 
feverish rhythm. He thought he'd go crazy from her tingling touch and 
clasped her even tighter to him in a bear-like embrace. 

"Your cock feels good . . . so big and hard . . ." her voice was hoarse and 
insistent and the lewd compliment sent shivers of forbidden pleasure 
coursing up and down his back. Inexplicably, at that moment, a memory of the 
photograph he'd seen of Mrs. Green came back into his dazed brain, and he 
recalled how it had strangely excited him, had set his entrails churning 
with an unknown sensation. Now he knew what it was. Her supreme animal 
sensuality which he was observing and experiencing now had transmitted 
itself into the photograph, electrifying everyone who looked at it! What a 
woman! his brain exclaimed as he felt her deft fingers draw down the zipper 
of his pants, and then his tormented prick was free, cleaving the air like a 
giant python, red and angry looking. He heard Ann draw in her breath as her 
fingers tested the huge circumference of it, and his own flesh tingled 
incredibly from her cool electrifying touch. Her fingernails scraped 
titillatingly along the quivering skin, abrasively thrilling the heated 
surface, and he couldn't suppress the moans of pleasure which issued 
incoherently from his lips. His balls felt heavy and bloated, writhing with 
the scalding weight of their precious liquid as they dangled beneath his 
heavily pulsating hardness. 

Without being aware of it, Ann had led him over to the long low couch and 
now she was lying back on it, her thighs spread invitingly open, her breasts 
heaving, their porcelain flesh translucent in their passion. Her face was 
clouded with a haze of desire and her open lips offered scintillating 
invitation to the lust-wracked young husband. Moaning savagely, he flung 
himself on her as he angrily stripped away his clothes, already in disarray, 
and felt the first contact of his own naked flesh on hers. 

"Oh Christ Ann," he murmured hoarsely, "I want to fuck you . . . oh God how 
I want to fuck you . . ." 

"Yes! Harry, Yes! Let me show you some things you never dreamed of . . . 
things your wife has never shown you . . ." Ann's breathing was heavy and 
labored as she strained her body to unite with his. 

SANDY! His wife's name struck a thundercord in Harry, leaving him feeling 
numbed and paralyzed. God, what was he doing? What had come over him to 
think of making love to another woman? What would Sandy say when she found 
out? And she was bound to. With her quiet intuitive way, she'd know as soon 
as she saw him what he had been up to. He hadn't called her, hadn't even 
thought about her in the past hour! Oh God, what kind of a husband was he? 

Ann sensed his hesitation, and a thin smile curved her lips. She knew what 
was on his mind. She had purposely mentioned his wife, knowing it would 
upset him. She couldn't help it, really. it was all part of the fun of 
seducing a fairly innocent young man, still crazy about his wife and caught 
up in all kinds of moral dilemmas. Not that they stayed that way for long; 
she took care of that. And this one was particularly handsome, she thought, 
her eyes trailing appreciatively over his muscular form. Jeff sure picked a 
good one this time, she smiled to herself. I must remember to really thank 
him. 

Harry's face was an agony of indecision. He didn't think he could hold his 
head up again, much less face Sandy, if he went through with this, but oh 
God, how could he stop himself? Ann's body was a miasma of overwhelming 
passion, drawing him irrevocably into its depths, and he couldn't escape 
from it! He just couldn't! And he didn't want to! 

Ann's fingers had tightened on his excitedly throbbing cock goading it into 
almost inhuman feelings, and suddenly, all discretion flew from his brain 
and his body became an inferno of raging fire. His hands reached down and 
without preamble, roughly drew apart her slender glossy thighs, forcing them 
brutally apart, revealing the shimmering dark triangle of her hungrily 
pulsating cunt. He could see the faint pinkness of it, glimmering between 
the thick, swollen outer lips, thinly covered with softly curling wisps of 
pubic hair. He could see the small, star-shaped opening pulsing gently, 
surmounted by the tiny bud of her eagerly throbbing clitoris, and he could 
barely detect the fluted edges of the tiny inner lips. He ran the tip of his 
tongue over his parched dry lips as his bulging eyes took in the enticing 
sight before him. Aware of his urgency, Ann began to draw the heated length 
of his pounding cock towards the waiting mouth to her quivering body, and 
she jerked back as the hard rubbery head touched the fragile flesh of her 
nakedly quivering pussy. Harry was electrified by the titillating touch of 
her open cunt against his blood-engorged penis, and eagerly, he rotated the 
heavy shaft against the softly clinging tendrils of membrane. But he was 
past the point of playing. The call of her heavily scented body was too 
strong to deny, and her waiting cuntal cavern was the most potent of lures. 
Dropping his hands again, he slowly drew back the swollen outer flanges of 
her vagina fully revealing the tender walls of her hotly trembling pussy. 
The smoothly rounded head of his elongated rod was poised now at the thin, 
vertical mouth up between her open thighs, and Harry hesitated, holding it 
there for a moment, savoring this final moment before his ultimate victory. 
Then, with a moan, strangled in his contracting throat, he rammed forward 
with all his pent-up strength. 

"AAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHHHHH . . ." Ann's voice was high-pitched and hoarse as she 
felt the sharp penetration of his rock-hard member as it cleaved apart the 
fragile outer flesh and inserted itself mercilessly in the soft vaginal 
sheath. 

" . . . nnnnnnnnggggggghhhhhhh . . ." she moaned in lewd welcome as he 
continued to plow forward, his fingers like eagles' claws on her thighs. 
Relentlessly, he surged forward, his thick pounding cock strong and 
unyielding as he continued on its lustful journey. 

"HHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMMmmmmm . . ." she gasped again as he finally hit bottom, 
the spongy head firmly implanted against the opening to her cervix, his 
writhing balls wedged between the soft velvety cheeks of her upturned ass, 
his dark pubic hairs mingling with her own soft raven ones. He had buried 
his virile young prick to the hilt in her hot tight vaginal cavern! 

''Ooooooooohhhhhhhhh . . . mmmmmmmmmmmnnnnnnnnn . . ." Ann sighed as she 
wriggled her hips slightly, trying to adjust to his considerable size. 

"Ooooooh god, baby, your cock feels good inside me . . . as good as I knew 
it would . . ." she murmured as the tightly clinging walls of her vaginal 
sheath flowered open to accommodate his driving hardness. She had to admit 
to herself that she was a little astonished at how big he was, and how 
completely he filled her, more than anyone else in a long time. She felt a 
rush of gratitude towards this young man who was beginning to give her such 
pleasure, and she was doubly determined to pay him back manifold in return. 

Slowly, Harry began to withdraw, his hands still dug convulsively into her 
thighs, steadying her in place, while he slipped the ponderous length of his 
weapon inch by inch from her widening channel. His mind and body were united 
in a ferment of uncontrolled lust and all his being was concentrated on the 
act he was performing. A still lingering sense of unreality gave his 
movements the motion of an automaton but the exquisite darts of pleasure 
which were jolting him from head to toe, titillating his nerve endings 
unbelievably, were far from unreal. He began to establish a rhythm, sweeping 
into the voluptuous body beneath him with long hard deep strokes, before 
pulling evenly out once again. The tip of his granite-hard prick rubbed 
teasingly against the pliant tissue of her cervix as he rammed into her and 
Ann could feel the webbed underside of his lust-inflated cock grating 
against the tender membrane of her vaginal sheath as he withdrew, leaving 
just the bulbous head still buried teasingly inside the elastically clinging 
circle of her cuntal orifice. 

Ann's hands reached up and clasped themselves around the young man's 
shoulders as the tempo of their fucking increased, and her voice emitted a 
long low series of animalistic mewls. Her head was thrown back, her upper 
lip drawn tautly over her even white teeth, and her eyes were hazy and 
heavy-lidded with desire. Her breasts, firm and creamy were jiggling from 
the force of their violent churning, and Harry could see a thin rivulet of 
faint perspiration trickling down the soft smooth valley between the 
alabaster globes. She was thrusting her pelvis up against his, returning 
jerk for jerk, and her thighs seemed to splay open even wider, allowing him 
even greater access to her fiery body. Her legs shot up and her ankles 
locked around his lower back in a maniacal hold as she ground her hotly 
throbbing loins feverishly against his down-pounding loins. 

"Oh Harry . . ." she breathed in harsh racking sobs, "that's it . . . that's 
how to fuck me . . ." 

She was like a being possessed, and Harry had never known anyone like her. 
Her complete entity was given over, body and soul, to the fucking she was 
giving and receiving and her total abandon to the act was obvious in the 
pleasure she was experiencing in every fiber of her being. 

Her half-open mouth, the lips red and inviting, drew Harry magnetically and 
he ground his mouth against hers, feeling the heated vibrancy of her kiss as 
she clung to him, inviting his tongue to dip into her buttery orifice the 
way his engorged penis was burrowing into her equally eager pussy. 

Their bodies were fusing together as they rocked and bucked against each 
other in perfect unison, joined as one from mouth to crotch, a perfect blend 
of masculine and feminine. Gone was the aura of unreality; Harry was 
experiencing every second of what was happening with startling clarity, and 
he realized without a doubt that this was the best fuck he'd ever had, by 
far. Ann was all woman, there was no question of that, and oh God, how good 
it felt after . . . after Sandy, he had to admit, who wasn't, who wasn't 
quite a woman yet. He was surprised, in a detached sort of way, that the 
recollection of his young wife at such a moment as this did not cause him as 
much as a twinge of guilt. In fact, nothing mattered, not even Sandy. All 
that was of importance was the fact that Ann was a hot, sensuous woman and 
he was a man, and they were together! 

Ann's body was aflame with sensations, a body attuned to receiving physical 
pleasure. She had missed Jeff's lovemaking, and she knew that her husband 
knew exactly what he was doing when he had sent Harry to her. And she 
herself certainly didn't have any complaints about that! Oh, dear heaven, 
no! This was proving to be the best screw she'd had in a long time, and she 
was going to make the most of it while it lasted. 

Harry was amazed by the tornado he had invoked in Jeff's wife's lovely body, 
and he was feeling pleasure he hadn't known in a long time as his 
blood-distended cock plunged again and again into her greedily clasping 
vagina, and his heavy, sperm bloated balls slapped lewdly against the 
crevice of her ass from the force of his in thrusts. 

"Ooooooohhhhhh . . . it feels so good . . . now stick your finger in my ass, 
Harry . . . do it now . . ." Jeff's wife's lewd demand rang out, and Harry 
no longer daunted by her bizarre words, and rendered robot-like by the power 
of her body, obediently groped downward with his hand, feeling the warmth of 
the valley between the velvety cheeks of her smoothly rounded backside. The 
tip of his forefinger circled around the tightly puckered hole of her anus, 
before probing experimentally at it. It felt unyielding and rubbery, and 
Harry, guided by the lascivious moans his illicit stroking was causing, 
suddenly plunged his finger forward, sinking it almost to the first knuckle 
in the elastic little circle. 

"Owwwww . . . ooooohhhhhh . . . yes! yes! . . ." Ann gasped, momentarily 
stung by the pain. But after a minute, she began to screw her rectum onto 
Harry's sunken digit, forcing her tight back passage down onto the hard bony 
column, until it was gradually imbedding itself in her dark interior. 
Finally, he had sunk it to the hilt, and Ann expelled a low moan of pain. 

"Aaaaaaaaagggghhhhh . . . it hurts! Oh Harry, it hurts!" she sobbed, but her 
young lover, relentless now, began to rotate it inside her warm sinewy 
channel. He manipulated his digit in lewd simulation of copulation, moving 
it in time to the fierce plunging of his heated cock, and Ann revelled in 
the lurid double impalement, thrusting her vaginal lips forward flowering 
open over his burrowing prick, and then thrusting backward to skewer herself 
willingly down on his tightly imbedded finger. 

"Oh God, Ann . . ." Harry gasped, "you're incredible! You're all woman . . 
." 

Harry was rapidly reaching a state of incoherence as the forces in his body 
were uniting in a convergence of incredible pleasure. The tumult in his 
heaving balls was unbearable and he thought he'd go crazy if he didn't cum 
soon. Every millimeter of his hot passionate flesh was attuned towards 
release, and his lust-tortured body was carrying him high on the tide 
towards climax. Jeff's wife, too, was nearing release, he was sure, because 
her frenetic churning was increasing in intensity, and her face was 
beginning to crimson in a heated, perspiring glow. Then, all at once, her 
body stiffened until it felt as if it was turned to stone, and her mouth 
began to work grotesquely as she fell victim to the first throes of 
overwhelming release. 

''AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH . . . OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD!" she sobbed 
helplessly, her body flailing suddenly as wave after wave of intense 
pleasure washed over her, and her loins were writhing and pounding against 
the sofa in a demonical rhythm. 

"000000HHHHHHHHHHHHH.. . I'm there . . . I'm . . . I'm . . . 
cuuummmiiinngggg . . . Aaaaaahhhhhhh . . ." 

And she was there! Her hips were flailing completely out of control, the 
interior muscles of her greedily working vagina clasping painfully at his 
own turbulent cock, threatening to wrench it away from its moorings. Her 
long fingernails were digging desperately into his flesh with painful force, 
and her soft satiny buttocks were grinding hotly and hungrily down against 
his hand as her whole body was split wide by a gigantically exploding 
orgasm. After that, Harry had time to notice nothing else, because the fiery 
fingers of release were clutching mercilessly at him, too, and his voice 
resounded in the living room in an unearthly scream. 

"AAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHH! Oh God, Ann, baby, I'm there . . . I'm cumming too!" 
And he was crashing against the voluptuous older woman's wildly oscillating 
body, his prick expanded to bursting point, his head spinning like a dervish 
as red and green and orange lights exploded behind his brain with 
pistol-shot reverberations. He was cumming! Christ, he was cumming! His 
voice was an incoherent jabbering as the first white hot jet of liquid began 
to cascade along his fomenting tube and rush out into the warmly welcoming 
depths of her hungrily gyrating vagina. Stream after stream of it rushed out 
of the abyss of his churning balls and emptied itself in the softly milking 
orifice which received his offering with such gratitude. His body was on 
fire, flames of passion licking greedily at every pore and nerve of his 
flesh, making him tingle from top to bottom as he gave himself over 
completely to the greater strength of physical pleasure. 

When at last, he had emptied the very last drop of semen into Jeff Green's 
wife's scorching depths, and his finger had slipped hissingly from the 
widened canal of her rectum, he sank back against the sofa, trying to regain 
normal breath, trying to hang onto the last glimmers of delicious pleasure 
permeating his body. 

He could feel Ann stirring against him, and then gasped audibly as she began 
to grope for his limply reclining penis again. 

"Wha . . ." he murmured as he felt life surge through his flaccid genitals 
again at her icy touch. 

"You do like doing it with me, don't you lover?" she whispered seductively, 
her lips ovaled wide in obvious invitation. Harry closed his eyes happily, 
and nodded his head in helpless agreement. God, yes, he had never felt 
anything like it in his whole life. 

"Then tell me, lover," the older woman crooned on teasingly. "Am I better 
than that frigid little wife of yours?" 

Harry flinched slightly from the mention of Sandy but nodded his head again 
in honest agreement. It was hopeless to do otherwise against the moistness 
of her lips that were teasing lightly over the slowly rising head of his 
cock below. 

"I was like her once, lover," Ann cooed on, her lips and tongue playing 
hotly against him. "But Jeff taught me a lesson. He held me down and fucked 
me in the ass and I've never been the same since. Maybe you could even do it 
to me that way someday, Harry, baby!" 

Harry could hardly believe his ears. Jeff had actually fucked his wife in 
the ass to teach her a lesson! God! He'd never even thought of doing 
anything like that to Sandy but the lewd, lust-inciting thought of his young 
innocent bride kneeling naked and slave-like before him was moments later 
driven forcefully from his mind. The warm, softly enfolding lips of Jeff 
Green's wife closed wetly over the again excitedly pulsating head of his 
desire-hardened cock . . . 

Chapter Three 

Sandy bit back the tears which threatened to blind her big brown eyes, and 
forced herself to sip the mild gin and tonic she had prepared for herself. 
Every few minutes, her eyes strayed to the clock, and it seemed to her as if 
the minutes just dragged by. Although the day had seemed to her an eternity, 
it was now nearly 8:30 in -the evening, and there was still no sign of 
Harry! What could have happened to him? She had asked herself that question 
a hundred times during the long day, and couldn't bring herself to think of 
an answer. She had even called the police station again after lunch, but 
they had assured her that Harry left at 9:00 that morning. Where could he 
be? Beside her on the sofa, her handiwork lay discarded. She hadn't been 
able to put more than a dozen stitches in it, first from excitement and then 
later from worry. Supposing something had happened to him? She couldn't 
think of anyone to call, or anyone she could turn to. If only he 'd come 
home! 

She jumped as if stung when she heard a car door slam outside, and hurrying 
over to the window, she peered out. Her heart leapt a somersault when she 
saw the gleam of their Palomino Gold Chevrolet in the driveway, and her 
worry and fear evaporated as if by magic. He was back! 

Trembling with excitement, she flung open the front door of the apartment, 
and waited with bated breath as she heard his footsteps on the stairs. 

She flung herself into his arms when he reached the landing, clinging to 
him, as if for life itself, sobbing helplessly into his shoulder. 

"Oh Harry, I'm so glad you're back . . . I was so worried . . ." she 
blubbered, unable to help herself. 

"It's all right, honey," Harry soothed her, "everything's all right now!" 

He closed the apartment door behind them, and once more safe inside her 
home, some of Sandy's self-possession returned to her. "You must be 
ravenous," she suggested happily. "How about a drink while I fix a steak?" 

"W--well, I'll take a drink, but forget about uh . . . dinner!" Harry said, 
somewhat sheepishly, thinking about the delicious Steak au Poivre Ann had 
prepared for them both, accompanied by a huge green salad, and finished off 
with home-made lemon mousse. 

"Are you sure you don't want dinner? It won't be--" Sandy continued to 
inquire. 

"No, I'm telling you, I'm not hungry. But I sure could use a drink!" 

Harry was sorry he'd snapped at Sandy when he saw the crestfallen look on 
her ashen face, and hastened to make amends. 

"Maybe after that drink, I'll feel like something," he said placatingly, and 
Sandy seemed happier. After a few moments, she returned with a scotch on the 
rocks, which Harry always drank, and a fresh gin and tonic for herself. She 
settled herself very close to him on the sofa, as if getting strength from 
his mere presence. 

"Was it terrible in jail?" she inquired, her face upturned to his. "Were you 
alone in the cell or--" 

"Please, Sandy, I don't want to talk about it!" Harry snapped again, unable 
to contain himself. To tell the truth, he'd hardly thought about his weekend 
in prison since he was released, the events following driving it completely 
out of his head. In fact, he had to admit to himself, that he was coming 
back down to earth, and with a loud, painful thud! The day had been one long 
orgy of incredible lovemaking with Ann, followed by that delicious meal and 
more lovemaking, until he thought he couldn't move. Now, he had to face the 
cold reality of his life, Sandy, his apartment, his job tomorrow, and leave 
the glamor world of the Greens. What tweaked his conscience as well was the 
fact that Sandy had obviously been worried to death about him, while he had 
barely given her a thought all day. If she only knew . . . She wouldn't be 
looking at him with such adoration. She'd despise him, probably never speak 
to him again . . . maybe even start divorce proceedings. And the worst of it 
was he'd deserve it, and more. What he'd done was unforgivable, and he could 
only hope and pray Sandy never found out. Guilt was eating at him like a 
hungry serpent, and his only hope was that his remorse didn't show on his 
face. 

"But where were you all day? I've been out of my mind with worry!" Sandy 
said plaintively, worried by her husband's unusual reticence. 

"For God's sake, Sandy, stop nagging at me with your questions! Can't you 
see I'm tired and in no mood for talking!" 

"I . . . I only . . . I was so worried . . . "Sandy began, tears checking 
her mumbled words. 

"Oh Christ, Sandy, must you carry on like this? Try and act like an adult, 
for once!" 

The shocked hurt look on his wife's face was like a punch in the jaw. All 
color drained from her face, and was replaced with a deathly pallor. 

"Look Sandy, I . . . he began weakly, alarmed by what he had done. 

"Don't you 'look Sandy' me!" she retorted, anger mounting inside her. Deep 
hurt had blazed the way for a terrible fury. 

"You walk in here, without an explanation, after getting out of jail at 9:00 
this morning! Nine a.m.! What I'd like to know is where you spent the day, 
mister!" She had risen to her feet and was glaring at him, her hands on her 
hips in a typical defiant pose. 

"And let me tell you that it's none of your goddamned business!" Harry 
snarled, his anger mounting and overpacing the overwhelming fountain of his 
guilt. He hadn't meant to be so bad-tempered with Sandy, but somehow, her 
angelic innocence and slightly martyred air irked him and seemed to show him 
in a blacker light than the already very dark reality. 

"I was driven crazy with worry about you, imagining you in some dreadful 
trouble, while you've probably been out enjoying yourself, drinking, or 
something!" Sandy hurled, her body quivering with indignation, her soft 
brown eyes flashing with rage. Who did he think he was anyway, treating her 
as if she didn't have a right to even nominal civility? Well, she'd had 
enough of being treated like a child! She'd show him she wasn't one, not by 
a long shot, nor was she the doormat he thought she was, willing to be 
walked on whenever he felt like it. 

"Don't try your histrionics on me! I'm in no mood to listen to them!" Harry 
snapped, draining his glass. The strong drink seemed to make him dizzy, and 
he knew it was because of the several he'd had at Ann Green's. He shouldn't 
have accepted this one, he knew now. 

"Well, I am in a mood to try them, and not before time!" Sandy blazed, 
ignoring the menacing note in her husband's statement. 

"Listen, Sandy, if you don't shut up--" Harry began threateningly. 

Sandy stared at him aghast, disbelief evident in her eyes. Was he actually 
threatening her? Oh God, that was too much! 

"Oh, I hate you. You've no consideration for anyone but yourself, you 
selfish--" 

Her invectives were suddenly silenced by the sharp stinging blow she 
received across her face. reddening her jaw, and making her reel from the 
pain. Harry had slapped her! . . . 

Harry stared open-mouthed at his vulnerable young wife, unable to believe 
that he had actually struck her. 

"Sandy, honey . . ." he began lamely, but was aghast to see her back away 
from him. 

"Don't come near me, you . . . you animal!" she warned, tears coursing down 
her face, disgust evident in her eyes. 

Her epithet struck a deep, revengeful chord in Harry. Animal, was he? Well, 
he'd show her, with her prim demure ways. Always treating him as if he was 
some kind of coarse, vulgar brute. His guilt and newly-aroused anger stifled 
his reason, and he could only see himself as the hurt, abused one. Maybe . . 
. just Maybe . . . Jeff Green had been right when he had ass-fucked his wife 
Ann when she had gotten too smart for her own good . . . Maybe that's 
exactly what Sandy needed too . . . Anyway, by God . . . 

"Come here, you goddamned little bitch!" he snarled, reaching for his 
petrified wife and pulling her towards him. He could feel her trembling with 
fear and trepidation, and her terror increased his savagery. He'd teach her 
a lesson she wouldn't forget for a long time, he fumed inwardly, his brain a 
dazed drunken ferment of ill-feeling. 

Roughly, he ground his mouth down on her helplessly quivering lips and 
kissed her cruelly, forcing her teeth apart and ramming his tongue far back 
down her throat. He could hear her gurgling piteously, and she desperately 
tried to struggle. With strength borne of desperation, she managed to free 
one hand, and without thinking, reached up and raked his cheek with her 
nails, gouging three red welts which were rapidly producing beads of blood. 

Harry stared at her in disbelief, the pain stinging him into further fury. 
He couldn't believe that she had actually scratched him, as if he was a 
brutish assailant and not her own husband. 

"Now, by God . . ." he raged, his face turning purple, his eyes starting 
from his head in volcanic fury. His hands began tearing at her thin, wispy 
blouse, tearing it roughly from her shoulders, and the sight of her firmly 
rounded breasts, palpitating in their beige bra, goaded him on and he was 
surprised at the stirrings of lust which were awakening in him. Not that it 
mattered, he told himself bitterly, Miss Iceberg has never any time for 
anything like that! . . . 

Distraught with fear, Sandy desperately tried to shield her breasts from his 
view, with an innate sense if modesty, but her action only enraged him more, 
and with a coarse oath, he ripped the flimsy bra open, tearing it away 
harshly from her trembling back. 

"No, please don't!" she pleaded, fearfully cupping her pert little breasts 
in her palms, her face white and wan. But Harry was not to be restrained, 
and with bestial callousness, he wrenched her hands away, and closed his 
mouth over one pink bursting nipple, sinking his teeth painfully into the 
soft flesh, making little indentations with his teeth. 

"Ooooooohhh, stop, Harry, you're hurting me . . ." Sandy sobbed, biting her 
lower lip to offset the dreadful pain in her breast. Still grasping her by 
the wrists, Harry began to drag away her corduroy miniskirt, flinging it on 
the floor, leaving her quivering there in her panties and sandals. 

"Oh please, Harry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Sandy wailed, futilely trying to 
cling to her thin, wispy panties. But Harry was too strong, and savagely, he 
wrenched the brief panties away, exposing the fearfully quivering mound of 
her golden-thatched vagina. The sight of her lovely naked body incensed 
Harry beyond control. Spittle was drooling from the corners of his mouth and 
his eyes were dimmed from his lust and the liquor he had consumed all too 
readily, recollection of his wife's cold response on too many occasions came 
back to his furious brain, and compared themselves fiendishly to the day of 
incredible sensual pleasure he had just spent with Ann. 

With a snarl, he flung his wife down on the floor, and she sprawled against 
the sofa, hitting her head on the edge, dazed by the hard contact. 

"Ooohhh please, Harry," she began again, turning pleading, tear-filled eyes 
on her demented husband. But he was oblivious to her terror, and brutally 
tangling his hands in her soft blonde hair, thrust her face hard against the 
sofa, almost suffocating her as he squashed her nose and mouth against the 
roughness of the fabric. 

She was cowering on hands and knees, and Harry's eyes fell abruptly on the 
lovely curves of her satiny smooth buttocks, the ass-cheeks peach-soft and 
trembling with trepidation. His eyes remained glued on the enticing area, 
and he could just see the wetly shimmering pinkness of her pussy beneath the 
soft, milk-white flesh. Like a man in a daze, his hands reached out and 
grabbed at the doughy softness of the flaccid mounds, and began to 
convulsively knead at them, wringing cries of disgust and pain from his 
tortured wife. Her naked flesh felt buttery and warm beneath his touch as he 
eagerly spread apart the softly yielding cheeks and exposed the smooth 
trembling crevice closing protectively around the crinkled brown hole of her 
now fully exposed little anus. Beneath, the soft pussy flesh trembled 
visibly and he could see a few wisps of soft golden pubic curls. The flesh 
on her smooth inner thighs was moist and clammy and Harry knew that fear was 
making her perspire. But he felt no mercy towards his cringing wife. He felt 
nothing but a burning desire to avenge himself on her for all the nights of 
humiliation he had suffered when she had received him so coldly. His 
feelings were all the more acute for having had the comparison of the 
magnificent wife of Jeff Green, and his flesh still throbbed at the thought 
of her incomparable body and how she had used it to give him pleasure and 
more pleasure. It isn't fair . . . why can 't I have a wife like that? he 
muttered childishly to himself as he wrenched his young bride's soft, 
fearfully trembling ass-cheeks even further apart. 

Sandy moaned again, and tried to struggle free, but her movements only 
seemed to incite her maddened husband and he forced her head further down 
into the rough material of the couch. Already her knees and neck were 
beginning to ache from the uncomfortable kneeling position, and she 
experienced nothing but a wish for his anger to abate and to be left alone. 
What did he have in mind for her? What was he going to do to her? Her mind 
thought numbly as she tried to figure out her husband's intentions. Then all 
rational thought dispersed as she felt a staggering, paralyzing pain in her 
back passage. 

'WWAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH . . . !!!" she sobbed. She tried to move, but 
couldn't and wondered if she was indeed paralyzed, but then the numbness 
eased and she felt the first really harsh throbbing of an almost unbearable 
pain. What was causing it? Tears coursed down her face and she wanted to 
look back, but couldn't. Oh God, what was happening to her? 

Harry was mesmerized by the effect of his brutal digital entry into his 
wife's tight, virginal little asshole. It felt so tight and hot and close 
around his finger that for a moment he couldn't move it at all, and then, 
pressing it slightly deeper, he began to rotate it lewdly around up inside 
her hot sinewy passage, sinking it further in all the time, until finally, 
it was imbedded all the way up to the first knuckle joint. 

"Oh God, please . . . Oh Harry, no . . ." Sandy sobbed piteously, stricken 
by the terrible pain as she felt the intruder insinuate itself deeper into 
her sacred back passage. Harry continued to worm it forward, sinking it 
millimeter by millimeter, until finally, he had buried it to the hilt in the 
inner sanctum of her painfully stretched little rectum. Then fiendishly, he 
began to scour the abused channel, widening it and stretching it 
unmercifully wider. 

Oh, heaven help me, Sandy's brain cried silently, this is disgusting, it 
sick . . . 

At last, she felt the perverted intruder begin to withdraw and Sandy felt 
something akin to relief when Harry finally pulled his finger completely out 
of her painfully stretched. rectum. Maybe now, hell come to his senses, and 
leave me alone, she prayed fervently, but in vain. She felt her husband's 
hands once more clutching at her sorely bruised ass-cheeks, pulling them 
unbelievably far apart, straining the hidden crevice unmercifully. Then, to 
her horror and disbelief, she heard the rustle of clothing, the whir of a 
zipper, and then . . . she cringed back piteously as the hard, blood-filled 
head of her husband's fully erect cock came into hard nudging contact with 
the cowering crevice of her naked backside. Desperately, she squirmed her 
buttocks around in a wild attempt to free herself, but Harry's hands 
tightened even more painfully on her tormented flesh, holding her fast, as 
he guided his huge, pulsating hardness towards the small, cringing hole of 
her tightly clenched rectum. She could feel the smooth rubbery tip rubbing 
against the nakedly crinkled flesh of her anus, and she shrank back from the 
illicit contact. Oh God, what on earth was 1w going to do to her? This 
wasn't her husband, this was some perverted madman that she didn't know who 
held her in his power. There was nothing she could do! She was helpless, a 
slavish victim of his greater strength. The knowledge, the sure realization 
of her own helplessness drove the last desire to fight back from her 
resistance broken body. What was the use? She was his prisoner, and she had 
to submit to whatever bestiality he had in mind. It was no use fighting . . 
. 

"Aaaaagggghhhhhh . . . Noooooooooo . . ." she wailed as she felt the 
relentless pressure of his giant cock as it tried to force entrance into the 
tiny cringing circle of her backside. She could hear her husband grunt 
behind her, feel his clutch tighten on her buttocks, feel the warm expulsion 
of his breath as he gathered his force again, preparing to surge forward one 
more time. 

At last, the full realization of what her husband had in mind for her hit 
Sandy like a blast of icy wind, and her whole body experienced a shock so 
violent as though she had been struck by lightning. No! Oh God no! Not that 
. . . Her last beseeching thoughts were obliterated in the mighty onslaught 
of agony which possessed her then, as Harry, lust-demented and furious at 
his initial failure to penetrate the virgin anus of his wife, rammed forward 
with all his pent-up frustration and anger, and with a flesh-splitting 
lunge, was able to insert just the tip of the bulbously throbbing head into 
the ovally stretching lips of her rectal mouth. 

''AAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHHhhhhmmmmmm . . . !!!" Sandy's piteous sob resounded 
through the living room and hung for a second in the depths of the high 
ceiling before shattering in a myriad of deafening screams around her own 
ears. 

''P L E E E E E A A S S S S S E E E E E NOOOOOOOOOO . . ." she wailed again 
and again as Harry, perspiration coursing down his face, desperately tried 
to force the rest of his angry cock past the tiny, bravely restricting 
sphincter. At last, the hard protuberance of the head of his pounding shaft 
was imbedded inside, and he had to stop for a moment, to get his breath 
before proceeding further on his sadistic journey. He had no idea his wife's 
rectum would be so tight, even though he knew it was a cherry, and yet the 
feeling of hurting her deeply and physically in order to ravish her secret 
bowels appealed to him in his lustful, semi-drunken state. This'll teach the 
little bitch . . . he murmured incoherently as he began to thrust forward 
again, forcing his thick heavy prick through the smooth rubbery walls of her 
tightly cringing rectum. 

''Aaaaaaaggghh! Aaaaagggghhhh! Aggggghhhhhh!" Sandy's voice was a series of 
harsh, dry sobs now as her body gave itself over completely to the 
excruciating pain of being split asunder by the punishing weapon of her 
husband's penis. Her mind was dazed, suspended in disbelief at the terrible 
crime her husband was perpetrating on her. She couldn't believe it was the 
same man she promised to love, honor and obey on her wedding day. How could 
her husband compare to this drunken, bestial sadist who was kneeling behind 
her and having his disgusting way with her? Yes, unbelievably, it was the 
same man, and a sickening pain clutched at Sandy's stomach. Nothing in her 
background had prepared her for anything remotely resembling an act like 
this. In fact, she didn't know such perversities existed, which is why she 
didn't realize until the very last minute, what was happening. God, she 
didn't think she could hold her head up again after this. She was soiled 
forever . . . and it was Harry, her own husband, who did it to her! Tears of 
humiliation and shame coursed down her cheeks, and a depressing feeling of 
emptiness and vacuity overtook her. 

Then, with an ominous, buttock flattening thud, Harry succeeded in sinking, 
to the hilt, every last inch of his punishing weapon in his wife's tiny, 
abused anus, and he held it there, savoring his ultimate victory over her, 
his sperm bloated testicles brushing hotly against the quivering wet flesh 
of her trembling pussy below. Her rectal sheath was tight and hot around his 
throbbing cock, adding to the mounting sensations there, increasing his 
illicit pleasure. At first, he had had no clear idea of what he was going to 
do, but the sight of his wife's soft, lovely buttocks and Jeff Green's words 
to him earlier had instilled him with the idea of taking her there. Reason 
had played no part in his actions, and his mind and body were still keyed up 
by the sensual banquet on which they had feasted with Jeff's wife. Now he 
had penetrated her there, bent her completely to his will, subjugated her 
entirely. This knowledge imbued him with new power, and at once, he began to 
withdraw, inch by torturous inch from her tightly unyielding passage. He 
could feel the webbed under-skin of his lust engorged penis grating hotly 
against the dry membranes of her rectum as he withdrew, and knew from the 
gasps of pain which issued from Sandy's helplessly mewling lips that she 
felt it too. 

When he had withdrawn all but the head of his prick, he began to surge 
forward again. His initial entry had stretched the passage somewhat, and he 
was able to fuck up inside her a little more easily this time. 

". . . hhhhhnnnnnnggggghhhhh . . ." Sandy gasped as he edged forward again. 

"hhhhhmmmmmmmmnnnnnnnn . . ." she grunted as he continued to enter her, 
completely resigned to her depraved punishment. What was the use in 
fighting? There was nothing she could do, no way for her to escape her 
destiny as a woman, to be used, to be violated, to be abused . . . 

Harry began to fuck rhythmically in and out of her now, each instroke 
becoming easier, as her weariness allowed her frightened muscles to relax, 
and her anal passage became lubricated with the heavy drops of semen which 
trickled prematurely from the glans opening at the tip of his excitedly 
seeping cock. He was buffeting cruelly against Sandy, forcing her face hard 
down into the sofa, lifting her knees up off the cushions from the fury of 
his slamming into her. Her spinal column was a fiery pole of pain, and it 
seemed to reach out to her fingers and toes and burn there with new 
intensity. Her only thought now was for it all to be over . . . so that she 
could forget it ever happened . . . if that was possible. 

The tempo of her husband's ass-fucking was increasing, and he was grunting 
freely, low animal mewls of pleasure as he screwed mindlessly into his 
wife's now widely stretched rectum. His fingers left red welts on her soft 
flesh buttocks, and her breasts felt bruised and sore from their crazy 
jiggling as her body jerked and rocked crazily from Harry's wild thrusting 
from behind. 

"Move that proud little ass of yours, baby!" Harry snapped with newfound 
viciousness, "put some life into it!" Sandy tried feebly to obey, but her 
aching body was beyond command now, and she just hoped that he wouldn't 
notice. She knew that he was approaching orgasm, and he was like a rutting 
goat, panting and thrusting savagely into her bowels with no thought for 
anything but his own pleasure and the emptying of his sperm into the 
slavishly kneeling receptacle of her body that he just happened to be using 
for the moment. 

Then, Sandy could feel him stiffen, his body tightening like a bowstring, 
and then she cried aloud with new pain as he slammed into her with new 
demonic fury, almost breaking her back as he began to spew the lewd offering 
of his heated male sperm deep up into her forever stretched rectum. 

"Oh Christ, I'm cumming! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" he wailed as he began to 
spurt hot, white liquid into the darkness of her rubberily giving anal 
depths, searing the tender membrane, adding further to her agony as he 
pumped without letup into her helplessly flooded little belly, his balls, 
squirming and churning as they drained themselves completely of their 
life-giving liquid. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he slumped over 
her, his now useless and limp penis slipping easily from her wet, 
sperm-drenched anus, and she farted slightly, feeling some welcome relief 
from the torturous pressure in her stomach. Her head was spinning, and her 
whole body ached with something more than physical agony. She felt weary, 
debased, soiled completely. He had violated her secret place, a lewd 
perverted act . . . she could never forgive him. She looked around the room, 
somehow gaining reassurance from the familiar surroundings. Harry was like a 
stranger to her, but at least home seemed the same. Her tear-filled eyes 
alighted on her discarded wall decoration, now rumpled and creased, and the 
letters of the motto she had been stitching seemed to leap teasingly into 
life before her eyes, "A MAN'S HOME IS HIS CASTLE". Oh God, she wept 
helplessly, everything was geared towards men. They get their own way in 
everything, including with women! It's not fair! It's not fair! But I'll pay 
him back . . . Oh God, I'll make him suffer for treating me like this. 

Chapter Four 

"So what have you been up to while I've been away?" Jeff Green teased his 
wife, who stretched out voluptuously on the bed beside him, She cupped her 
chin in her hand and looked up sensually at him through her luxuriant dark 
lashes. 

"Ooohh, nothing much, dear . . . just entertaining that young friend of 
yours!" 

"Aha! I thought you'd like that young fellow. He's just your type, isn't 
he?" 

"H'mmm, I like them young all right, but sometimes, I like them older, too!" 
Ann purred, her hand reaching out to stroke the semi-erect expanse of her 
husband's prick. 

"Your little sojourn in prison must have done you a lot of good, darling," 
Ann went on, her eyes straying down to the growing shaft of his awakening 
cock. "Doing without for a week or so certainly didn't hinder your 
performance!" 

"Why should it?" Jeff teased, leaning back, his eyes closing in contentment. 
"I just have to think about you to get a hard-on, and besides, for the last 
couple of days, I've been thinking about getting acquainted with your new 
friend's young wife!" 

"Oh!" Ann said, trying to keep her voice nonchalant, but unable to suppress 
a touch of jealousy from creeping into it. 

"Yes, from her photo, she looks like, a real doll!" Jeff continued, thinking 
of the fair, angelic beauty of Pitt's wife, as he had glimpsed it in the 
photograph. "I bet she has a nice, soft ass, round and shapely, just . . ." 

"Oh all right, all right!" Ann interrupted, her fingers tightening around 
Jeff's expanding member. "You don't have to go into details!" 

"Don't tell me you're jealous!" Jeff laughed as his hand reached down and 
caressed the soft curve of his wife's molded hip. 

"Jealous of a little teenage chit?" Ann laughed, her voice scornful. "Let me 
tell you, my dear, that experience counts for most in bed!" 

"Don't tell me, prove it!" Jeff laughed, delighted by his wife's jealousy. 

"What, again?" Ann smiled, her face softening in expectation of pleasure. 

"Yes, I mean to call on that little blonde this afternoon, and this way I'll 
be sure to remember what you said about experience!" 

"Okay, baby," Ann purred, her fingers like feathers on his excitedly 
palpitating prick, "when I'm through with you, nothing will make you forget 
it, not even that cute Mrs. Pitt . . ." 

* 

* 

* 

The thoughts of revenge she had nurtured the previous night fled from 
Sandy's mind the next morning as she went about her household tasks. That 
emotion was replaced with a depressing listlessness and her chores were 
punctuated with great sighs of unhappiness. Harry had tried to make up with 
her before he left for work, but his apologies had somehow left her cold. 

"I'll make it up to you, honey, I swear!" he had promised, but she couldn't 
bring herself to feel anything, and her disinterest and lethargy had only 
succeeded in angering him. 

"Why don't you say something?" he'd yelled at her. "There's no need to act 
like a goddamned martyr!" 

But she couldn't even accuse him or make him feel guilty. It would have been 
better if she could, she knew, because shouting would probably relieve her 
pent-up feelings. Anything, she felt, would be preferable to the numbness 
she felt. When he finally left, she was conscious of considerable relief. 
She was glad to be able to sip her coffee alone in the kitchen, and then 
slip into the bathroom to take the bath which her tired, drained body badly 
needed. 

She had badly wanted to feel the refreshing tingling of a hot bath last 
night when Harry had finally slunk off into the bedroom, but all her energy 
was drained from her, and she could only drag herself into bed as well, 
sleeping as far as she could over on the other side of the large bed. 

Now, thankfully, she took off her robe, and when the bath was filling, the 
lavender-scented bubbled permeating the air, she examined her body in the 
full length mirror. It seemed to her that it was different, that the 
debauched act of the night before had left its mark on her. There were 
several bruises, already purpling, dark, angry smudges, and the aureola 
around her nipples appeared to be swollen and discolored from her husband's 
savage bites there. But it wasn't only the bruises that the savage act had 
marked her with. Her body seemed to have undergone some kind of subtle 
change, but she couldn't quite place what it was. Shrugging, she stepped 
into the bath, conscious of the slightly sore twinge in her rectum, a very 
tangible reminder of the violation she had suffered there. Much later, when 
Sandy was busy writing to her parents, the buzzer sounded. She felt much 
better after her bath, and she had decided to herself that she would try and 
put last night's terrible occurrence out of her mind. Opening the apartment 
door, she was a little surprised to see a stranger standing there, smiling 
affably at her. 

"Good afternoon, I'm Jeff Green. You must be Mrs. Pitt -- Sandy!" the man 
said in a smooth practiced voice. 

Sandy felt herself stiffen involuntarily, thinking immediately that he must 
be selling something, and determined to give him short shrift. 

"Yes, I'm Mrs. Pitt, but . . ." 

"May I come in?" Jeff went on, edging his way in the door, "I'm a friend of 
Harry's." 

"Yes, in that case," Sandy replied tonelessly, "do come in." 

Jeff quickly stepped inside and glanced appreciatively around the apartment. 

"Nice cozy little place you've got here!" he complimented, and Sandy felt a 
little better. "These needlepoints are particularly charming! They must have 
cost a lot of money!" 

"W-well," Sandy began, blushingly pleased at his remarks, "actually, I did 
them myself!" she confessed shyly. 

"Really?" Jeff gushed, his eyes roaming over the young wife's shapely body. 
"You must be very clever with your hands!" 

Sandy felt herself loosening up as she urged her guest to sit down, and then 
offered him a drink. After all, she assured herself, he is a friend of 
Harry's . . . 

"Oh, thank you very much," Jeff answered, "a little soda with that Scotch 
for me!" 

He sat back comfortably, as he waited for Sandy to return with the drinks. A 
real cute little number, all right, he mused to himself, better even than 
her photograph. Ann may be right when she says there's no substitute for 
experience, but a little of that sweet, angelic innocence sure is nice! 
Sandy reappeared just then, and Jeff's eyes opened wide as he scrutinized 
her lithe, slim figure, perfectly accentuated by the cotton shirtwaister she 
was wearing. It was a light beige color, and instead of making her appear 
wishy-washy, as it might have done, it emphasized the flawless cream of her 
skin and the lustrous velvet of her large brown eyes. 

Sandy handed Jeff his drink and began to sip her own mild Scotch and ginger 
ale. 

"How . . . where did you meet Harry?" she began hesitantly, realizing that 
Harry had never mentioned him. 

"We shared a cell in jail!" Jeff laughed, never taking his eyes from Sandy's 
still-pale face, "and let me tell you, that's a sure way of really getting 
to know someone!" 

"I imagine it is!" Sandy conceded, and then queried, puzzled: "When were you 
released?" 

"OH, just this morning," Jeff answered, "and, man, does it feel good to be 
out!" 

Now that she thought about it, Sandy remembered that Harry had mentioned 
"Jeff", and she studied this man who was her husband's cell-mate for the 
weekend. She had to admit that he was quite good-looking, in an older 
sophisticated kind of way, and she couldn't help wondering what he was in 
prison for. 

"...and so I decided to pay you a visit," he was saying, and Sandy realized 
she hadn't been listening to what he was telling her. 

"Yes, Harry was very worried about you; kept wondering if you were all 
right!" Jeff assured her. 

Sandy felt a tightening of her muscles. So he was worried about her, while 
he was in jail, was he? Then why hadn't he come directly home, and why had 
he been so bad-tempered when he did? What was the reason for it? 

Jeff had noticed the blanching of her features and suppressed a tight smile. 
So the young newlyweds had come to blows? . . . 

"Excuse me," he said in a light silky voice, "I hope I haven't said anything 
to upset you?" 

"No, no, of course not . . . it's just that . . . Sandy mumbled, not knowing 
what to say. 

"Are things all right between you and Harry? I know it's no business of 
mine, but I'm really fond of Harry, and, well, we were pretty close while we 
were in the cooler!" 

Sandy looked as if she were about to cry, and Jeff thought that her misery 
enhanced her frail beauty. He couldn't take his eyes away from her sensuous 
young breasts which were thrusting against the cotton of her dress, and the 
smooth expanse of thigh which was revealed as the hem of her dress rode up 
her legs, excited him in a thrilling sort of way. She was obviously very 
agitated and Jeff knew that he had hit on what was bothering her. 

"Look honey," he began again, "I'm a lot older than you and besides, I've 
been married a long time, and I can assure you that in a few days, you won't 
even remember what you and Harry quarreled about!" 

It seemed to Sandy that Jeff had edged closer to her on the sofa, but 
somehow, his presence was comforting. 

"Why, when I think of the times I thought I could never look at my wife 
again . . ." 

"Oh, but what he did was so terrible . . ." Her voice, high-pitched and 
tremulous, trailed off as she realized that she had almost disclosed the 
dreadful thing that had happened. No matter what, she could never tell 
anybody about it. It was too shameful, too embarrassing. 

"Maybe you'd feel better if you talked about it!" Jeff said, feigning an 
avuncular manner. 

"N-no, it's all right . . . would you like another drink?" Sandy stuttered, 
glad of an excuse now to change the subject. 

Harry assented, and she hurried out to the kitchen, and poured one for her 
guest and another heavy one for herself. She also took a quick swallow from 
the bottle trying to compose herself as she returned to the living-room. 

"There's no need to feel bad," Jeff soothed. "everybody has quarrels from 
time to time. We're none of us saints!" 

"No, that's true . . . " Sandy smiled a little ruefully. She was feeling 
better, and in her slightly fuzzy stupor from the alcohol, was glad now that 
this nice man had decided to visit her. Tonight, when Harry came home, she'd 
tell him about it, and tell him she was sorry for the way she behaved, and 
he'd apologize also, and then things would be back to normal . . . a 
newlywed's quarrel, quickly blown over. 

Then suddenly, Sandy stiffened, dragging her mind back to the present, an 
icy finger clutching at her heart as she wondered, in her reverie, if she 
had just imagined the touch of a hard, masculine hand on her thigh. 

She turned to Jeff, her eyes wide and questioning, and found he was smiling 
easily at her. 

"Ah, there . . . I can see you feel better now!" he was murmuring, his voice 
low and soft, with a strange hypnotic ring to it. Sandy's eyes dropped and 
she drew in her breath as she saw his hand, hair and brown, gliding 
friendly-like across the naked flesh of her thigh. She stared at it in 
something akin to horror, her brain not registering the fact that the 
strange crawling sensation she was experiencing, the little chill of sensual 
pleasure she was feeling was caused by this man, a near stranger's hand 
coolly stroking her naked leg as though . . . as though she were a whore . . 
. 

She stared at him again, hardly daring to believe what was happening. His 
voice was still smooth and oily in her ear, his mouth close to her face. 

"Harry is so lucky to have such a lovely wife . . ." Worst of all was her 
apparent acceptance of his illicit caresses. What was the matter with her, 
allowing herself to be stroked by another man in this wanton way. Her brain 
was dimly aware of a feeling of disgust, dislike, risking danger, but her 
body seemed to be possessed of a will of its own, and seemed to revel in 
this mesmerizing fondling of her thigh. 

Oh God, it must be the liquor! she wildly assured herself, unable to believe 
that she was actually sitting there not moving and actually enjoying the 
lewd tinglings which were erupting over her soft warm skin. 

Jeff's fingers tightened almost imperceptibly, tantalizing the resilient 
inner flesh of her quivering thigh, and he noticed the signs of conflict on 
her face. She's trying to fight it . . . he murmured to himself, delighted 
with the progress he was making. It won 't be long now until I have this hot 
little cookie right where I want her . . . she's givin' me drinks and 
everything . . . 

The slight pressure she felt as Jeff squeezed his fingers, awoke a deeper 
chord in Sandy, and for a moment, her brain was imbued with startling 
clarity. Oh, God, what was this man doing, petting her like that, in that 
obscenely familiar way? 

"H-how dare you?" she shrieked at him with sudden vehemence, her eyes 
blazing, her face white with anger. 

"Oh come on, baby, you like it, you know you do . . . "he began, a little 
perturbed by her sudden outburst. 

"Take your hands off me, and get out of my house . . . before I call the 
police!" she threatened, her voice livid. 

"But, baby . . . you was liking it . . . "Green began, unable to believe her 
sudden change of heart. 

"Get out! GET OUT!" she sobbed hysterically, and watched as Jeff, stunned by 
this unexpected turn of events, rose from the sofa and walked with a 
confused look on his face towards the living-room door. In a moment, he had 
left, and Sandy heard his hurried footsteps on the stairs. 

With a sob of anguish, she rushed towards the bedroom, and crumpled in a 
heap on the bed, her body wracked with sobs, her brain a ferment of 
self-loathing and bewilderment at the momentary lapse in her moral structure 
that had occurred a few short seconds ago . . . 

Chapter Five 

"A-are you going out again?" Sandy asked timidly, her fingers nervously 
plucking at the cover of the sofa. 

"Er . . . yes, I have to go out . . . but I won't be too late getting back" 
Harry replied, avoiding his wife's eyes. Hurriedly, he picked up his jacket 
and edged towards the door. 

"Well, see you later!" he called, as he let himself out of the apartment, 
and he breathed a sigh of relief as he bounded down the stairs. He was 
afraid for a moment that Sandy was going to make a scene, and was glad that 
she didn't. That would have been the last straw.. He felt guilty enough 
about sneaking out to see Ann every night, without getting into another 
fight with Sandy. He was still disgusted with himself for losing his temper 
with her earlier in the week and taking her anally the way he did, all the 
more so since Sandy had refused to discuss it ever since. The way things 
were with Sandy now, he'd go crazy if he didn't have Ann. This past week had 
been heaven. He couldn't seem to get enough of her, and she was so fantastic 
in bed that he forgot everything else but her. He was secretly glad that her 
husband, Jeff, was still in jail, or at least, he supposed he was, because 
Ann never mentioned him. But it was strange the way Sandy had asked him only 
yesterday who Jeff was. He couldn't remember ever mentioning him, but Sandy 
had insisted he did, and how else would she have known about him. He wished 
things were better between himself and his wife, but he had done his best, 
God knows, to patch things up, but to no avail. If she wants to sulk, I 
can't help it, he told himself as he started the car, his thoughts already 
in the future, dwelling precisely on the gorgeous curves of Ann Green's 
voluptuously curved body. 

* 

 * 

* 

Sandy stifled the impulse to cry and resolutely took up her stitching. She 
couldn't understand what had come over Harry over the last week, in fact, 
ever since he got out of jail. She was beginning to wonder if he had been 
brainwashed in there, or something, because he was certainly acting very 
strange. First, his brutal taking of her anus, and now this preoccupation, 
his silences, his long absences from home. In fact, he never seemed to be in 
the apartment for more than a few minutes at a time, except to sleep. She 
had wanted to tell him about Jeff's visit, but he had been so moody and 
bad-tempered that night when he came home from work, that she hadn't dared, 
and then he had dashed off again after about fifteen minutes. She had no 
idea where he went, and when she attempted to question him, he got surly. 
And he had nearly bitten her head off when she had casually asked him who 
Jeff was. She heaved a deep sigh, and tried to concentrate on her 
needlework. Another thing was the strange emptiness inside her. Her body 
hadn't seemed like her own ever since Harry had abused her, and over the 
past week, she was conscious of a gnawing void inside her, almost as if she 
was love-starved. She had never really warmed to lovemaking and yet here she 
was, really missing it after a week's abstinence. If only things were right 
between us again, she sighed, desperately searching her brain for an answer 
to the seemingly insoluble problem which was besetting their marriage. But 
she could find none. Oh Harry, she wept silently, where are you, and why 
don't you come home . . . 

* 

* 

* 

Harry slowly spread the soft furry flanges of the older woman's hotly 
throbbing pussy lips, revealing the pink moistness of her delicious slit to 
his avid gaze. He could see the tiny crinkled inner labia curled around the 
pulsating hole of her vagina, peaked by the barely-visible red tip of her 
clitoris. With a sigh, he stretched out with his, tongue, and slashed at the 
trembling furrow, swiping the entire length of it with his hungry organ. 

"Mmmmmm . . ." Ann moaned, squirming from the delicious contact. Harry 
continued to probe with his tongue, curling it teasingly into the wet warm 
folds, tasting the delicate piquancy of her honeyed cunt, inhaling the sweet 
feminine fragrance between her open thighs. He flicked it, tentatively at 
first, and then with greater deftness, at the hidden recesses and secrets of 
her excitedly squirming pussy, wringing moans of pleasure from her arid 
throat, sending shivers of exquisite ecstasy coursing through her body. His 
tongue worked feverishly as it burrowed and plunged and hovered around the 
petal-shaped opening to her womanly body. Then, without hesitation, it 
plunged headlong into the hotly absorbing walls of her steaming cuntal 
sheath. 

"Aaaahhhhh . . . ooohhhh, that's good . . . that's good . . ." Ann gasped, 
contracting the inner sinews of her expert cunt, sucking as if she was 
trying to tear it away from its base. Her blood-swollen pussy lips rimmed 
his nose and mouth, and her thighs closed in hungrily on his face, trapping 
him there, as her aroused vaginal plane pounded against his mouth, hungry 
and eager for his oral caresses. Harry had never experienced anything like 
this before. Sandy always refused to let him touch her there, and he had 
almost given up thinking about it. Now, thanks to the incomparable Ann, he 
was able to experience the thrilling pleasure of kissing and licking and 
sucking a woman's pussy, a pleasure unlike any other. With a moan of 
delight, he doubled his efforts, determined to donate maximum arousal to his 
beautiful mistress. 

Jeff steadied the camera, and then took careful aim. That should be a real 
good one, he smiled to himself, as he opened the back of the camera, pulled 
the flap and tore it off. Deftly, he moved the backing and looked gleefully 
at the Polaroid print. Oh man, now for the next one, he cackled, once more 
aiming the camera at the writhing couple on the floor of his living room . . 
. 

"Oh God, ooohhhhh . . ." Harry gasped as he felt the cool pressure of Ann's 
sinewy lips around the bloated circumference of his pounding prick. He 
moaned again and again as he felt her tongue circling around the hot febrile 
flesh, laving it with her warm saliva, darting into the little glans opening 
at the tip, dipping down to pull at the base deeply imbedded in the tufted 
hairs of his pubis, further still to coat the crinkled sac of his balls, 
teasing them into scurrying contractions. Oh God, it was unbelievable! It 
was her idea that they should sixty-nine, and Harry had been trembling with 
excitement at the thought. Now he had tasted her naked cunt for the first 
time, and she was sucking his cock. And she sure knew how to do it, as well. 
There was never anything like it. Her tongue was like a being, apart, 
working and slavering and goading his already tumultuous prick into gigantic 
erection. Her lips were locked tightly like a rubber band around his 
pulsating cock, and her teeth pressured the sensitive underside ever so 
slightly, sending lewd, sensuous shivers rippling along his spine. The 
pleasure she was giving him urged him to increase her own ecstasy, and his 
tongue was tireless in its efforts to coax the blood-inflated folds of her 
twitching pussy into tingling arousal. 

Jeff focused the camera on his wife's passion-distorted face, her mouth 
contorted around Pitt's bloated penis, and clicked the shutter. Mmmm, she 
sure knows how to suck cock, Jeff mused to himself as he waited the required 
time for the print to develop. He couldn't deny that he felt a twinge of 
envy, not to mention jealousy as he observed his wife sixty-nining with 
young Pitt, and only the thought of what he had in mind stopped him from 
rushing in there and demanding some of the fun... 

Harry's prick seemed to fill Ann's mouth to completion, and yet she seemed 
to be anxious to enclose even more of it in her avariciously working throat. 
Harry felt that it would explode, it seemed to expand every second from her 
incredible lingual ministrations, and he counted himself lucky once more, as 
he did a dozen times a day, to be able to make love to such a woman as Ann. 
If only Sandy was more alive, more a woman, more like Ann, he said to 
himself, unable to visualize his young wife as anything other than what she 
was. 

He could feel, from the quickening tempo of her thrusts, that Jeff's wife 
was nearing fulfillment, and he quickened his licking, slashing and darting 
and flicking insanely with his tongue, striving to keep up with her 
accelerating spasms. Suddenly, she was there, her thighs scissoring around 
his cheeks, her crotch grinding down painfully on his face, her cuntal 
sheath clutching greedily at his jaded tongue. He could feel his own breath 
returning in warm gusts on his face, and then, a warm mist of her internal 
lubrications showered down on him, washing him with her climax, while at the 
same time, her furious convulsions triggered his own release, and he 
stiffened, taut as a plumb-line, before collapsing in a series of jolts 
which electrified his whole body. He shrieked out but his cries were lost in 
the depths of Ann's hungrily churning crotch, just as her orgasmic moans 
were muffled around his ejaculating cock. It was a mind-blowing experience, 
the two of them cumming together while sixty-nining, and Harry's pleasure 
was increased tenfold as the lewdness of the act struck home. His body was 
alive with spine-tingling feelings, and he felt as if he was being pricked 
with an electric needle. His head was reeling, both from the force of his 
orgasm and from his lack of oxygen from Julie's tight hold around his face, 
when he felt her suddenly go limp against him, and knew that she was at last 
satiated. She relaxed her demonic hold on his head, while at the same time, 
she finally allowed his now-limp prick to slither free from her mouth, and 
she collapsed on the rug beside him, tiny moans still whimpering from her 
lips, her body still twitching from her cataclysmic release. Harry too sank 
back beside her, his flesh tingling with blissful peace, his libido 
satisfied for the moment by his provocative mistress. 

* 

* 

* 

Jeff put the small pile of photographs in a large white envelope, replaced 
the camera in its usual place in the study, and slipped out of the 
apartment. He was humming a tune to himself as he stepped into the elevator, 
his mind busily planning his next move. He knew, however, exactly what he 
was going to do, and for that, he had Ann to thank. She had teased him 
unmercifully when he had come back from the Pitt's apartment on Tuesday and 
had to confess that Sandy had ordered him out. But when she had got tired of 
taunting him over his failure to score with the lovely young wife, she had 
hit on a plan which Jeff considered ingenious. He himself would never have 
thought of taking Polaroid shots of his wife and Pitt together, and then 
taking them over to Mrs. Pitt, showing her what her husband was up to. Ann 
assured him that the innocent young wife would be so horror-stricken that 
she would do anything and even if she wasn't quite so distraught, Jeff could 
even resort to a little blackmail to help him get his way. 

"I really appreciate you helping me out on this," He'd thanked her, almost 
humbly, but Ann had only laughed. 

"Well," she'd mocked, "I'm having such a hell of a good time with Harry, I'd 
like you to have a little fun as well!" 

She's some girl Jeff laughed to himself as he got off the elevator on the 
garage floor, thinking of his wife, but also of the young blonde, the wife 
of his wife's lover, that he was going to so shortly see . . . and fuck 
until she couldn't walk . . . 

Chapter Six 

Sandy couldn't suppress a gasp of surprise when she opened the apartment 
door and saw Jeff Green standing there. Her first impulse was to tell him to 
go away; that she didn't want to see him. But somehow, she couldn't. A 
crimson blush rose and wreathed her face as she recalled how he had lewdly 
fondled her thigh, and how she had allowed him to, before she at last had 
come to her senses. 

"May I come in?" Green asked, a confident smirk playing about his lips. 

"Well, I . . ." Sandy began lamely, unsure of what to say. Jeff sensed her 
repugnance, and it touched off a spark of anger inside him. I'll teach that 
little bitch some manners in a few minutes . . . he promised himself, but 
outwardly, he maintained an air of cool composure. 

"I've got something to discuss with you. It won't take long, I assure you!" 

Sandy felt somewhat assured by his business-like tone, and motioned to him 
to enter. Jeff walked right over and sat down on the sofa, and Sandy 
hesitated before offering him a drink. She didn't want to encourage him, but 
on the other hand, she couldn't bring herself to be rude to him. After all, 
he was a friend of Harry's, and even though her husband was very 
incommunicative about him, she thought it wise not to do anything that would 
damage the friendship. 

Jeff accepted the drink happily, and began to talk to Sandy about 
commonplace things, making expert small talk. Sandy was grateful for the 
preoccupation of her own drink, and fervently wished that he would say what 
he had come to say, and leave. She couldn't forget how he had fondled her 
the last time he had come, and she found herself wishing she hadn't invited 
him inside. 

"What was it you wanted to see me about, Mr. Green?" she inquired at last, 
her voice frosty. 

"No need to be so formal, Sandy!" Jeff said jovially. "After all, we are 
friends, and it is as a friend that I've come to see you!" 

Sandy was silent, eyeing him coldly. She disliked his smooth persuasive 
manner and felt sure that he was trying to play some trick on her. 

Jeff was burning with anger at her manner of polite tolerance, and only the 
knowledge of her consternation and shock when she heard what he was going to 
tell her stopped him from really getting angry with her. So, patiently, he 
bided his time. 

"Yes, sometimes," he went on silkily, "a friend has a difficult decision in 
whether or not to tell . . . 

"Mr. Green, I'm very busy. Would you please tell me what you came to say, 
and then leave. I've got a lot of things to do!" Sandy's voice held a note 
of impatience. 

Goddamned little bitch! Jeff fumed. She'll change her tune in a minute. 

"No, life isn't always what it seems. Nor people, either. Take Harry, for 
instance . . ." 

"Let's leave my husband out of this, if you please," Sandy retorted crisply. 

"But it's about Harry that I've something to tell you." Jeff enjoyed 
watching the look of haughtiness drop from her face and become replaced with 
a sudden look of concern. 

"W-what about Harry?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper. 

"I hate to have to tell you this, but it's about Harry and . . . and my 
wife!" 

"W-what about them?" Sandy gasped, her face white, her eyes round and 
staring. There was a deep pit in her stomach, and the past few days came 
rushing back in a series of silent innuendoes and recollections. Harry's 
silences, his long absences, his preoccupations . . . oh dear God, what was 
the cause of it? 

"There's something going on between them. I thought it best to tell you, as 
soon as I," he finished, sighing, "found out about it. But first, I think 
you'd better pour yourself another drink. I'm afraid you're going to need 
it!" 

"BUT WHAT IS IT? What do you want to tell me?" Sandy shrieked, her body 
shaking, her nails digging into the arm of the sofa. 

"Here, take it easy," Jeff soothed, moving closer to her and putting his arm 
around her shoulder. "Let me get you that drink!" 

He poured a double Scotch for Sandy and another one for himself, and 
encouraged the trembling young girl to take a deep swallow. 

"Yes," he began carefully, toying with his glass, "Your husband, and my wife 
. . . are having an affair!" 

Sandy stared at him with unseeing eyes, hardly comprehending what he said, 
her brain agitated with her jumbled thoughts. She should have known, 
everything pointed that way. Harry was involved with someone else! She 
wanted to sob, to cry out, to tell herself it wasn't true. She could hardly 
believe it, and yet, her instinct had warned her, but she had ignored it. 
Harry is having an affair with another woman! 

"But . . . but how do you know?" she stammered, her eyes blinded with tears. 

Jeff smiled a sorrowful smile, and shook his head. 

"I'm afraid I caught them in the act, my dear . . ." 

"No! No!" Sandy shrieked involuntarily, unwilling as yet to completely 
believe this suave older man. "How do I know you're . . . you're not just . 
. ." 

"Making it all up?" Jeff finished, searching in his inside pocket. "No, my 
dear, there is no doubt. You see," he murmured, withdrawing a large white 
envelope from his pocket, "I have proof!" 

"P-proof?" Sandy whispered, as if she didn't 

believe her ears. 

"Yes, here, if you care to take a look!" Jeff fumbled in the envelope, and 
withdrew a large black and white print, and handed it to her. 

Sandy took it with trembling hands, recognizing it as a Polaroid photograph, 
and stared at it with tear-brimming eyes. For a moment, she couldn't see 
clearly what was in the photograph, and then her vision cleared and she 
gasped aloud as she stared at the figures depicted in the print. She 
couldn't believe it! It wasn't true . . . it couldn't be! But it was, 
because there was no doubt that that was Harry, his tongue lolling 
lasciviously, his eyes half-closed in delight, his mouth reaching for the 
splayed wet furrow of a nakedly spread vagina! Sandy couldn't tear her eyes 
away from the photo. It was a very detailed snapshot, and Sandy knew that it 
must have been taken from close-up. Every delineation of the woman's hot 
throbbing genitals was visible, and Sandy could see the thick swollen outer 
lips, the fluted pink inner lips, the burgeoning bud of her clitoris above 
the palpitating hold of her petal-shaped vaginal hole. 

"B-but this is sick! It's perverted! How could Harry . . ." Sandy was 
revulsed. How could Harry do a thing like that? Kiss a woman down there, 
between her legs? It was wrong, forbidden! But he seemed to be enjoying it! 
Now she understood what he had wanted when he had -tried to kiss her down 
there, and she had been horrified, unable to believe his intention! She had 
refused him, and now he was doing it with another woman! 

She took the next photograph that Jeff silently offered her, and she stifled 
a groan as she saw for the first time the beautiful face of the woman who 
was Jeff's wife. She experienced an intense stab of jealousy when she saw 
how lovely she was, even though her face was contorted with lust, her full 
ripe lips ovalled to receive the full hard length of a fully erect penis, 
which Sandy knew was Harry's. 

"Now look at this one!" Jeff suggested, and Sandy drew in her breath quickly 
as she saw the reason for the strange positions of the close-ups. The third 
photograph showed Harry and Jeff's wife, juxtaposed, both completely nude, 
touching only where Jeff's wife's mouth was closed around Harry's bulging 
prick, and her husband's face was planted firmly between the beautiful 
woman's widely splayed thighs. They were sixty-nining! Then, strangely, a 
lewd thrill of perverse pleasure clutched at Sandy's stomach as the word 
came to her mind, half-remembered from her school days, when she hadn't a 
clear idea what it really meant. Now she knew . . . oh God, how she knew! 

"W-where did you get these?" Sandy asked with sudden suspicion. 

"I took them myself," Jeff admitted, feigning a hang-dog look, "you see, I 
thought I might need them in case . . ." He trailed off, leaving Sandy to 
guess his legal meaning. But she was too agitated to pursue the matter, and 
with a mixture of disgust and trepidation, examined the rest of the 
Polaroids, each one depicting exactly the degree of passion the illicit pair 
reached together in their wantonly abandoned act. 

"I . . . I don't know what to say!" Sandy finally gasped, handing the 
photographs back to Jeff. All at once, they sickened her beyond belief. She 
still could hardly believe that Harry was actually being unfaithful to her, 
much less in such a disgusting way. 

Jeff quickly refilled Sandy's glass and without noticing, she raised it to 
her lips again, and drank deep from it. Her head felt dizzy from the sudden 
intake, but she felt a certain relaxation and confidence creeping over her. 
I need it, I need the drink to stop me from going crazy! 

"H-how long has this been going on?" Sandy asked, not knowing what else to 
say to this man whose wife was the mistress of her own husband. 

"Since the day your husband got out of jail!" 

Jeff announced in a stentorian voice. "Yes, ever since that day, your 
husband has been fucking my wife, behind both our backs, right in my own 
apartment!" 

Sandy winced from the lewd word as her mind began to whirl with troubled 
thoughts. That's where he spent the day! He must have spent it with Jeff's 
wife, before coming back to her . . . and raping her from behind like a dog! 
That's why he was touchy . . . that explained his abruptness this past week, 
his silences . . . oh God, she should have known. . . she should have known. 

"I didn't think Ann would do this to me . . . humiliate and hurt me like 
this; show such lack of consideration for my feelings. It's just not right, 
is it, Sandy?" 

"No, it isn't!" Sandy heard herself agreeing. 

Well, it wasn't right. Harry had abused her terribly, and this past week was 
hell. He was involved with someone else, and she was the one who was 
suffering. It wasn't fair, not fair at all! 

"You don't deserve to be hurt like that," Jeff consoled her, moving close to 
her on the sofa, urging her to finish her drink. Sandy didn't know what to 
think. Jeff was right, of course, but on the other hand, shouldn't she wait 
and hear Harry's side of the story? 

"It's different for me, I'm a man, I can take it," Jeff went on, his arm 
creeping protectively around Sandy's quivering shoulder. "But when a woman 
finds out that her husband is fucking another woman . . ." 

Sandy suddenly burst into tears, unable to restrain herself. Harsh 
convulsive sobs wracked her body, and tears coursed down her face. She never 
dreamed that such a thing would ever happen to her, that Harry would be 
unfaithful to her. But now it was happening, and Harry, that bastard, had no 
consideration for her, didn't care that he was hurting her beyond 
imagination. 

"There, honey, take it easy," Jeff soothed, his hand caressing her shoulder, 
his voice soft and persuasive, his breath warm on her cheek. 

"I don't blame you for getting upset. In fact, I wouldn't blame you if you 
got really angry at that husband of yours, if you swore to get your revenge 
on him, to hurt him the way he has hurt you . . ." 

Yes, that's it, Sandy's liquor-soaked brain seized on Jeff's remarks. I'll 
pay him back for humiliating me like this, for the way he treated me, for 
abusing me the other day, for cheating on me . . . 

"A man who cheats on his wife deserves to be hurt in return," Jeff droned, 
his arm growing more possessive as he whispered in her ear. 

Yes, Harry deserves it, Sandy thought wildly. 

He deserves to be paid back, the cheating bastard . . . 

"Would you please get me another drink . . . Jeff?" Sandy asked timidly, as 
she tried to quell her sobs. Jeff smiled to himself as he poured more Scotch 
into her glass, feeling pleased with himself for the way things were working 
out. But easy does it, he cautioned himself as he handed her the glass, 
don't rush things this time. 

Sandy felt much better as she sipped her drink. Her crying jag had done her 
a lot of good, and now that she had a tangible emotion to get her teeth 
into, things didn't look so bad. She'd make Harry pay for what he'd done to 
her; that would make her feel better and teach Harry that she wasn't a timid 
little doormat any longer. She was a full grown woman, capable of following 
her own mind, capable of giving as good as she got. Yes, Harry, I'll make 
you sit up and take notice, you goddamned bastard . . . 

"Well, I must thank you, Jeff, for clueing me in. You must think I'm a real 
baby, though, for the way I reacted." Her voice was cool and self-possessed 
again as she toyed with her half-empty glass. 

"No, I don't," he replied suavely, "In fact I think you're a very brave 
young woman, in addition to being, I might add, a very beautiful one." 

Sandy found herself blushing, oddly pleased with his compliment. It felt 
good to-be praised again, after Harry's neglect, and her mind craved the 
attention, just as her body reacted to the lack of it. 

"T-thank you," she stammered, unable to meet his eyes. 

"I mean it, Sandy," Jeff persisted earnestly, "I don't know how Harry could 
look at another woman after-you!" 

"Ah . . . I don't know what to say . . ." she faltered, feeling overwhelmed 
by his remarks. 

"A guy like Harry who has got everything at home, a beautiful sexy wife, 
good in bed . . ." 

"Oooh!" Sandy couldn't help gasping, her face fiery from what Jeff was 
saying. What made him say a thing like that? Had Harry been talking about 
her? Had he hinted what their love life was like and was Jeff now making fun 
of her? God in heaven, this was getting to be too much for her . . . 

The next thing Sandy knew was that Jeff was kissing her, his mouth hot and 
hard against hers, his arms clasping her to him, his body vibrant and 
passionate as it melted against hers. She was powerless to resist as his 
tongue squirmed hotly between her teeth and united with hers, teasing it 
into life, mingling his breath with hers. 

"Oh baby," he was murmuring, "you're so lovely, so beautiful . . . I can't 
help myself . . ." 

Her body tensed as she felt the fumbling of his fingers with the buttons on 
the front of her dress, and she was aware, with a paralytic immobility, that 
they were groping inside her dress, slipping under her bra and . . . 

"Oooooh, God . . . "she murmured as she felt the cool touch of his fingers 
on the burning flesh of her breasts, and she realized, without rancor, that 
her nipples were straining against his hand, anxious to be caressed, rubbed, 
stroked. It seemed to the bewildered young wife as if her body had suddenly 
mutinied and was now shocking her with the violence of the feelings which 
were coursing through it, making her mewl with pleasure under a strange 
man's touches, making her sigh with bliss from his illicit kiss. All she 
knew was that it felt so good to be kissed and caressed and wanted again, 
after so long, especially . . . especially now that Harry had found someone 
else. His fingers were tweaking the hard little nipples, goading them into 
turgidity, caressing the crinkled aureola to distraction, stroking the soft 
trembling flesh of her fully rounded young breasts. 

She stiffened a little as she felt his hand slide down the flat expanse of 
her belly and slip inside the elastic waistband of her nylon panties, edging 
its way still lower until it came into delicious contact with the first 
thinly curling wisps of her pubic fleece. It hesitated there for a moment, 
before dropping still lower and brushing against the quivering flesh of her 
vaginal furrow. 

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmm . . ." Sandy sighed ecstatically, squirming her hips into the 
sofa as the finger began to delve between the soft fleshy folds of her 
throbbing pussy. His mouth was tracing a hot path along her neck, her 
throat, showering her with hot little kisses, his voice rasping in her ear. 

"Oh baby, you body feels so soft and good . . . your pussy is already so 
nice and juicy . . ." 

Abruptly, a warning note flashed a vibrant red in Sandy's dazed brain. 

"No! No! We mustn't . . . It's not right . . ." 

Her voice was hysterical and distraught and she struggled to free herself 
from Jeff's embrace. 

"Why not?" Jeff intoned insidiously. "They're enjoying themselves, they 
don't care about us! Why should you be so lonely and unhappy while your 
husband is having a good time? And you're having a good time now, aren't 
you, Sandy? I know you are . . . I know you like my finger playing around in 
your cunt . . . I just know you like it . . ." 

He right, I do like it! I like it! Her brain was dizzy, her resolve 
diminishing. He's right about Harry, too . . . why should he have all the 
fun . . . he deserves to be cheated on, just like he cheated on me . . . he 
deserves it . . . 

Jeff's finger was like a red hot poker in her openly throbbing vaginal 
depths, churning around in the wet soft flanges, igniting curious flames of 
pleasure and desire inside her, melting her brain and body until they were 
both acquiescent and yielding. It was unbelievable, almost as if he had some 
secret power over her, the power to give her tremendous pleasure. 

Jeff was working smoothly, expertly with her thinly-covering dress and she 
limply allowed him to remove it, allowed him to take off her bra, lay there 
meekly while he ripped off the last flimsy protection of her flimsy nylon 
panties . . . she was naked in his arms, and she could see the admiration 
mirrored in his face. 

Christ, she's even better than I thought . . . her body looks so soft and 
unused . . . innocent and vulnerable . . . just the way I like 'em! Lust was 
a tightening knot in his stomach and he could feel the hardness of his 
aroused prick digging into his thigh, confined by his pants. What a fool 
Harry is, he laughed to himself, Not that I blame him for fucking my wife; 
any man would . . . 

He couldn't draw his eyes away from the sumptuous feast of Sandy's delicate 
golden body, quivering and apprehensive, like a frightened fawn. She 
combined an air of childish innocence and vulnerability with a deep 
sensuality which Jeff was sure lurked just beneath the surface of her 
shimmering creamy skin. 

With a moan, he lowered his face and his mouth enclosed the tiny trembling 
bud of one nipple between his lips, sucking and pulling on the hard little 
tip, drawing sunken moans of ecstasy from Sandy. Her breast felt as if it 
was on fire and yet oh god, she liked his rough oral caress, liked his mouth 
on her hardened nipple. 

His mouth trailed down her lithe young body, probing momentarily at the 
puckered aperture of her navel before descending to bury itself in the 
softly tickling fleece of her pubic down. Sandy drew in her breath rapidly 
at the alien touch and tried to squirm away as she felt Jeff's fingers brush 
against the swollen outer lips, pulling them gently apart, revealing the 
soft, wet pinkness of her moist little cuntal mouth. He gazed at the 
appetizing sight, his breath coming quicker and his pulse hastening as he 
stared at the soft glimmering lushness between her slightly spread thighs. 

"No, please . . . " Sandy whimpered, realizing with horror what Jeff had in 
mind. 

"Oh baby, your cunt looks so nice and tight and hot . . . I'm going to kiss 
and lick it, just like Harry was kissing and licking my wife's pussy. 
Remember, baby, in the photograph, how your husband was groveling in my 
wife's cunt, ramming his tongue far up inside her, nibbling at her hot 
little clit, sucking and licking like crazy . . . do you remember?" 

Yes, she remembered. She couldn't forget that photograph, it was indelibly 
etched on her brain, and she knew now that yes, she wanted Jeff to do to her 
what Harry had done to Ann, wanted Jeff to kiss and lick her up between her 
legs, even though she had thought it was wrong, sick . . . 

"Yes, Jeff, oh yes . . . " she breathed, her body tingling from the lewd 
thoughts leaping around in her jumbled brain. Nothing mattered to her any 
more, nothing but the incredible sexy sensations in her body, not even the 
fact that she was here with another man . . . 

"Yes, what?" Jeff demanded, suddenly sadistic in his impatience. 

"Yes, kiss me there . . . on my pussy!" Sandy moaned like an automaton, 
mesmerized by the older man's sensual power. 

Jeff, elated, reached down and once more drawing apart the protective, 
softly hair-fringed folds of her trembling little cunt lashed out with his 
tongue and swept along the full length of the throbbing cleft. 

"Aaaaaaaagggghhhhh . . ." Sandy gasped from the unaccustomed contact unable 
to believe that it was really she who was naked and flat on her back beneath 
an almost total stranger whose tongue was licking hungrily at her openly 
spread vagina. He swiped and probed with his deftly flicking organ, 
searching and burrowing into the deep sensitively squirming recesses of her 
hot little pussy, sucking in her excitedly secreting feminine juices, 
reveling in his conquest over her. Because he had conquered, and Sandy was 
moaning and writhing, the desire in her body overriding her initial 
reservation. She liked it! She liked having her pussy sucked and licked by a 
virtual stranger whose wife her own husband was probably fucking at this 
very minute. 

"Mmmmmmmm . . . God!" she moaned, writhing beneath Jeff Green's tight grip 
on her nakedly moving hips. Her brain was fomenting and her body was 
bewitched by the overwhelming sensations convulsing it. It was fabulous! She 
had no idea it would be so good, being kissed down there. She should have 
let Harry do it . . . it would have been so good . . . 

Jeff hesitated for a moment, raising his eyes to look at the lovely, naked 
young body churning on the sofa, delighted with her pleasure. She really 
digs it . . . he thought happily, as he returned to his task, redoubling his 
efforts. Eagerly, he nipped the tiny head of her burgeoning clitoris with 
his teeth and titillated it with his tongue, wringing cries of pleasure from 
Sandy. She was riding the crest of complete passion now, and Jeff could see 
that she was approaching orgasm. She was like a being possessed, her body 
loosened completely now from the moralistic clutches of her mind. 

Sandy groaned with disappointment when the delicious tonguing of her 
genitals ceased abruptly, just when she was ready for exquisite release. 

"Jeff . . . " she murmured piteously, her flesh tingling with arousal. 
"Look, honey," he growled suddenly, and Sandy, startled, opened her eyes and 
looked straight at the huge bulging protuberance of his cock. He had 
undressed and was completely naked. 

"NO!" Sandy screamed suddenly, her eyes widening in horror, both at the 
unnatural size of the organ and the realization of what he wanted to do to 
her now. 

"D'you like it, honey?" Jeff leered, dangling it in his hand, pointing it 
obscenely at her. It's so big, she thought feebly, falling helplessly back 
into the sofa, unable to resist. 

"Now, baby," Jeff rasped, settling himself over her, "I'm gonna fuck you 
with my cock, just like your husband's fucking my wife . . ." 

Oh God, she thought bitterly, am I going to be as bad as Harry . . . 
cheating on him the way he cheated on me . . . 

"I'm gonna shove it into that tight little pussy of yours, the way Harry 
rams it into my wife's cunt . . ." 

His lascivious words revulsed Sandy, but she knew there was nothing she 
could do. It was too late. She was already in this man's clutches, a 
helplessly aroused victim of his swirling tongue and fingers and all the 
liquor she had consumed. 

She flinched as he moved nakedly up between her widespread legs and she felt 
the hard nudging of the rubbery head of his prick against her soft vaginal 
flesh, and waited fearfully for what would happen. He's going to tear my 
vagina, she thought helplessly as she felt him positioning the thick, heavy 
rod at the tiny, tightly clenched entrance to her belly. Oh Harry, why did 
you do this to me . . . it's all your fault . . . it wouldn't have happened 
but for you!!! 

Her feelings of pleasure from her near-orgasm were all but gone now and were 
replaced with cold dread. She didn't want this to happen, she didn't want it 
at all, but it was too late now . 

Jeff poised his huge prick at the small, apprehensively cowering opening and 
held it there for a moment. He could hardly believe that he was at last 
within sight of victory, in sight of totally subjugating this half-virginal 
little number who had treated him with such contempt at first. Well, he had 
won in the end just like he always did. And now, by God, he'd show her she 
wasn't such hot shit, that her proud little cunt would get the best of her 
and start fucking back just like all the rest of them as soon as it got a 
chunk of real man-sized cock shoved up into it. With a grunt he pushed 
forward, feeling the soft tender walls of her open pussy give way like warm 
butter before his onslaught, and then brutally, he lunged forward in a 
savage lurch, penetrating all the way to the base of her cervix with his 
huge driving cudgel. 

"AAAAA-AARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH . . .!!!" Sandy wailed loudly, blinded by the 
pain of his sudden, harsh entry. 

"No, please stop, N00000000 . . ." she sobbed as she felt him grind his cock 
forward inside again, oblivious to her agony, disregarding the near virginal 
tightness of her futilely resisting cuntal passage. 

"Waaaaaggggghhhhhhh . . ." she shrieked as he forced it up into her another 
inch. 

"Uuuuuurrrgggghhhh . . . "Still further. 

And then . . . "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH . . .OH GOD, STOP . . . PLEASE - - STOP 
. . . NOOOOOOOO . . ." as with a tremendous surge, he managed to sink his 
lust-bloated hardness to the hilt in her hot tight depths. Sandy felt as if 
she couldn't move, or even breathe, so impaled to the cushions of the couch 
was she by the wide, granite-hard pole sunk between her open legs. Her body 
was on fire with pain, and her brain was seething with the shame of her 
lewdly spread position. Oh God, she was allowing herself to be used in this 
licentious, adulterous way and she had really only herself to blame. It was 
her own fault! 

Jeff flexed his blood-swollen cock inside her tortured little belly, 
pressuring it against the membrane of her cervix, enjoying her agony as he 
held her there, impaled like a butterfly on his prick. Then at last, he 
began to pull out, and he could feel the moistly clinging walls of her cunt 
lock tightly in protest against his hardness as it withdrew, and the young 
wife's piteous moans of shame and humiliation intensified as he continued to 
exit. 

Sandy felt mortified, unable to think or feel anything more. The brutal 
penetration had cleared her liquor-soaked brain and she realized with a kind 
of horror what she had let herself in for. Now she had to endure the result 
of her folly without even the haze of liquor to help her. It was all too 
much for her and she wished that the ground would open and swallow her up, 
anything to spare her this obscene degradation. 

Jeff plunged forward again, this time unimpeded, conscious only of his own 
overpowering need to fuck into and empty all of his hot seething sperm into 
the nakedly spread body of the shame-frozen young blonde beneath him. 

"Please, Jeff, please stop . . . you're killing me!" Sandy pleaded, her 
pelvis filled almost to the bursting by his bestial lunging. His massive rod 
of flesh filled her completely, so much so that she felt she would explode, 
and yet with each moment it remained in her, it seemed to expand even more 
inside her. Her flesh felt hot and cold at the same time, and she closed her 
eyes, fervently hoping for the end of this horrible rape of her helplessly 
pinned body to come soon. 

Then, as she rolled her head in silent protest beneath him, Jeff began to 
fuck into her with long even strokes, plunging deep inside her on the 
instroke, and pulled out almost totally as he withdrew. His screwing became 
progressively wilder as Sandy's cunt slowly adjusted to his size and opened 
and closed of its own accord in time to his own rhythm. He was intoxicated 
by his own success, puffed up with conceit, waiting only for the final 
evidence of the total submission and subjugation that he knew would be soon 
in coming . . . 

"This . . . is . . . how your husband . . . fucks into . . . my wife . . ." 
he gasped, his breathing becoming faster, his body hot and panting. Was it? 
Sandy thought wildly. Did Harry hump over Jeff's wife like this, panting and 
heaving like a sex-crazed animal? An image of Harry, hovering over Ann 
Green's lovely body, flashed into Sandy's mind and stayed there with 
unbelievable tenacity. She could almost see her husband, his penis long and 
thick and rangy, darting into the hotly waiting crevice of the older woman's 
hungrily pulsing pussy . . . Yes, she could almost see it, and could it be 
that the thought was exciting her? The thought of her husband fucking . . . 
yes, fucking . . . the lewd word rang in her mind . . . another woman, just 
as she was being fucked between her legs by another man? Yes, there was no 
doubt about the tingle of excitement which was growing deep in her loins, 
spreading like wildfire now to every sensitive nerve end of her body, 
thrilling her to the very marrow of her bones. The lewd pictures she'd seen, 
the ones Jeff showed her, came back into her mind with startling clarity, 
and sent lascivious shivers of wicked pleasure cascading through her as she 
recalled the licentious poses of their wanton sixty-nining, how Harry's face 
had glazed over with lust as he bent to lick and kiss Ann's pussy, how Ann's 
mouth had clung like a greedy child's around the thick driving pole of her 
husband's hardness . . . An image of how she herself must look spread-eagled 
on the sofa, her thighs lewdly splayed, her head thrown back as that woman 
in the picture's husband fucked into her with wild abandon, darted into her 
mind, teasing her with erotic distortions. 

Yes, her position was just as lewd and wanton as Jeff's wife and Harry's had 
been . . . she was as bad as they were . . . 

But there was no doubt now about the rising excitement in her vainly 
resisting mind. And then . . . with the same intensity they had fought 
against it, her loins burst into a giant flame and she was moaning and 
writhing with unadulterated pleasure, her libido released by the intensity 
of her own imagination and the hunger in her love-starved body. 

"Ooohhhh Jeff, that's it . . . it feels so good, Jeff!" she gasped, 
spiraling her vagina upward to receive his downthrusts, locking her ankles 
tightly around his lower back, clasping her hands around his neck. She was 
like a different person as her body rocked and buffeted against his, her 
flesh alive and sensual in its quest for fulfillment. 

Christ, she's really a hot little fuck, Jeff mused arrogantly through 
half-closed eyes, his own body lashed with the whip of mounting passion, 
even hotter than I thought she'd be . . . she's like a volcano that's just 
been uncapped . . . 

Their nakedly perspiring bodies smacked noisily against each other as they 
sought to reach release together, soft female flesh fused into and grinding 
hotly against hard driving masculine flesh. This is it . . . this is what it 
is all about . . . Sandy's brain droned as her body was carried further and 
further from the shore of reality and tossed higher and higher on forbidden 
waves of exquisite pleasure. Her breasts were crushed against Jeff's chest, 
and the softly curling fleece of her pubic mound was grinding desperately up 
against his pubic bone. Her mouth reached greedily for his and she sucked 
his tongue deep down into her throat, anxious to feel and taste as much of 
him as possible. She was grateful to Jeff for forcing her into this 
pleasure, glad that he had stripped her naked and pushed her down on the 
couch . . . glad even that Harry had cheated on her and enabled her to taste 
the same cup of ecstasy that he had tasted. It was worth it . . . 

Her body was like an undetonated bomb, waiting to explode any moment at the 
signal from its controller. Sandy felt that signal coming as she suddenly 
held her breath. Every muscle in her body tautened and stiffened almost 
unbearably, and then, before she had time to think of anything, every cell 
in her body was bursting into a thousand pieces . . . 

She was there, her arms and legs jerking madly around Jeff Green's nakedly 
driving body as her whole being was overcome by a force far greater than 
anything she had eve known before. 

"Aaaaaahhhhhhh . . . Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! . . ." she sobbed mindlessly, 
"I'm there . . . I'm there . . . I'm CUUMMMMIIINNNGGG . . .!!!" 

Then she was shattered by a terrible explosion inside her as multicolored 
lights flashed behind her eyes, and she felt her body disintegrating into a 
million pieces, and she could also feel, very clearly, a most important part 
of herself, the part that was moral and repressed, being dissolved 
completely, and leaving in its place, a new entity someone completely 
different than the one she had been before. Through the din of her 
incredible release, she was aware of Jeff's climax, and she could feel him 
fucking desperately into her, his body like a whipcord as his own coming 
orgasm swept him along on its relentless path. 

"Oooh Baby . . . Oh Baby . . . I'm cumming too! I'm cumming too!" he hissed 
in her ear, his pelvis smashing hard up between her upraised thighs, 
signaling the release of the first jet of white hot sperm into her churning 
depths On and on, it spurted from the squirming sanctum of his balls deep 
into the heated, steamy morass of her hungrily welcoming belly. 

"Keep . . . fucking . . . back . . ." he panted heavily as he continued to 
batter against her, lighting again and again the dwindling fires of the 
first orgasm she had ever experienced. Finally, her stomach and vagina 
filled almost to the bursting with sperm, it was all over, and Sandy sank 
limply down into the cushions, her brain reeling, her body trembling and 
quivering, unable to think clearly. She had never in her life known anything 
like the tremendous physical pleasure she had just experienced, and she knew 
that she had another woman's husband to thank for it. She didn't know why 
she had reached the epitome of excitation with another man, and not her own 
husband; she only knew that she had and, as she sank into a light, satiated 
doze, her brain knew only one thing: I'm glad, I'm glad, I'm glad, even if 
it hurts you, Harry, you bastard, I'm glad I let a stranger fuck me, I'm 
glad I had this wonderful orgasm and now know what it's all about . . . 

Chapter Seven 

"Oh, Jeff, darling, I thought you'd never come!" Sandy cried as she threw 
herself into his arms. She had been nervously pacing the floor of the 
apartment ever since Harry left at 7:00 p.m., counting the minutes until her 
lover arrived. She had had a moment of panic when it seemed as if Harry 
would change his mind and stay at home after all, but Sandy had almost 
blatantly urged him to go out. He had hedged around, almost as if he was 
reluctant to go, and Sandy was desperately afraid that Jeff would come while 
he was still here. She couldn't understand why he was lingering because for 
the past two weeks, she had hardly seen him at all, and she knew that 
straight after dinner every evening, he dashed off to see Ann. Not that she 
minded, of course, now that she had Jeff. In fact, she was glad he was 
occupied elsewhere, otherwise she'd never have enough time alone with Jeff. 

As it was, their time together seemed to fly by, and before she knew it, it 
was time for him to go. Ever since that day, when they had made love after 
Jeff showed her those lewd photographs of Harry and his wife, Ann, wrapped 
nakedly together and she realized that her husband was cheating on her, she 
was a different woman. For the first time in her life, she was experiencing 
the ultimate in physical pleasure. She was a new woman! Gone was all her old 
primness, her prudish ways, her reticence. She was fully awakened, and she 
had Jeff to thank for that. He had initiated her into thrilling rites of 
sexual ecstasy, and now her body, in the space of one short week, had become 
absolutely attuned to sensual delight, so much so that she was sure she'd 
never get enough of Jeff. Harry, of course, hadn't touched her since he had 
so cruelly sodomized her that day, and she had to admit to herself, that she 
wasn't particularly upset by his neglect. She just hadn't time for him now 
that she had Jeff. 

She disentangled herself from Jeff's embrace and lovingly ran her hands down 
the length of his tall frame. 

"Mmmm, it's getting hard already," she murmured, her eyes falling on the 
already discernible bulge of his awakening genitals. Her eyes blazing with 
excitement, she reached out and touched the flaccid bundle, feeling it 
quiver with growing arousal from her stroking. 

Jeff smiled down at her, his eyes smoky with pleasure, his face betraying 
his admiration for his lovely young mistress. He could hardly quite believe 
that she was the same woman who had such a short time ago treated him in 
such a haughty, offhand way. The metamorphosis was incredible. Every pore, 
every inch of her portrayed that change. Her body had become even more 
sylph-like, more curvaceous, more womanly. Her skin seemed to have taken on 
a sensual golden haze and her eyes and face were the features of a woman 
fully adept at giving and receiving physical pleasure. She had, in the 
process, lost that air of angelic innocence which she had when Jeff first 
met her, but that didn't worry him. What had replaced it was so much better! 

He heard the whine of his zipper and knew that she was eagerly opening his 
fly, not being able to wait any longer. With a sigh of relief, he felt the 
erect length of his turgid prick shoot up and stand out proudly from the 
dark tufts of his pubic fleece, and he could see that the thick, excitedly 
pulsating tube was throbbing intensely in anticipation of further 
excitement. Sharon was staring with hungrily glazing eyes at the huge 
protuberance, her fingernails grating lightly against the sensitive skin, 
her palm cupping the heavy bloated sac of his scrotum. 

"Aaaahhhhh . . ." Jeff sighed blissfully as he felt the exquisite pressure 
of her fingers on his tingling organ, which sent rays of excruciating 
excitement burning through his body. 

Sandy was staring almost wildly at the palpitating male hardness in front of 
her, held aloft by her eager fingers. She couldn't take her eyes off it. As 
if mesmerized, she found herself drawing nearer to it . . . it was luring 
her with a hidden spell of its own. Suddenly, in an instant, she knew what 
she wanted to do. Something she'd never done before, but an act that was 
indelibly etched on her brain, ever since she saw those obscene photographs 
of her husband and Jeff's wife. Yes, she wanted to do what Ann had done; she 
wanted to take Jeff's huge prick in her mouth, taste it, feel it, know what 
it was like to suck dry such a man's cock! 

With an incoherent moan, she reached out with her long pink tongue and 
licked the full length of it against the long, rigid shaft of her lover's 
hardened flesh. 

"Oh baby . . . oh Christ . . ." Jeff moaned as he winced from the delicious 
contact, hardly able to believe what the turned on little bitch was doing. 
Once more he felt the incredible touch of Sandy's tongue on his red, fiery 
weapon and the wet coolness of it sent shivers coursing down his spine. 
Sandy began to lick more confidently at the rigid rod of flesh, dipping 
under the bulbous head and probing at the veinous underside, rooting among 
the wisps of hair at the sturdy base, slavering wetly at the little glans 
opening at the tip. It was lovely, unbelievable! It tasted so good, she 
thought feverishly as the tempo of her working tongue increased, even better 
than she thought it would. 

Her free hand was pumping on the squirming mass of his balls in lewd rhythm 
with her licking, and as she inhaled the pungent masculine odor of him, a 
wild thrill of excitement rippled through her. Hesitantly, she ceased her 
wild tongue-washing, and then, with infinite slowness, closed her lips 
warmly and moistly around the hard rubbery head, pressuring it just below 
the mushroomy cap, holding it tight like a rubber band. 

"Mmmmmmm . . . Christ, your hot little mouth feels good on my cock..." Jeff 
moaned, convulsively digging his fingers into Sandy's long blonde hair, and 
flexing his pelvis towards her lust-contorted face. Sandy's teeth nibbled 
gently at the spongy flesh, and her tongue tripped eagerly around the 
swollen throbbing organ, as she slowly began to move her mouth up and down 
the full hardened length. It gave her a heady feeling to be kneeling 
slave-like like this, as if in worship of the masculine cock she was 
sucking; there was a masochistic joy in it, as if Jeff was her omnipotent 
master, and she was a mere slave-girl. Deliriously, she wondered how her 
face looked with his prick halfway submerged in her warm eager mouth; if she 
looked the way Ann did in the photograph, when she was sucking Harry's 
penis. She felt as if she might, because her whole being was caught up and 
enraptured by the act she was performing, and she wondered again how it 
happened that she hadn't done this wonderful thing before, how she had 
denied herself the supreme pleasure of using her mouth as a receptacle for 
the man who had fucked her. 

She could hardly recall what it had been like before Jeff; everything that 
was exciting and wonderful in her life of late had happened after Jeff. 

She continued to suck and lick more hungrily on the distended organ, goading 
it into greater tumultuous length and feverish width, her palm kneading 
softly and teasingly at the roiling sac of his testicles. Her lips ovalled 
even more tightly around the throbbing circumference as she strove to 
enclose more and more of it in her warm buttery mouth, taking it far back 
inside her until the tip of it was brushing against her tonsils, and her 
cheeks were puffed with the hotly pulsating flesh inside. Her fingers were 
holding the heatedly pounding shaft around the base, guiding it into her 
mouth, feeling the pulsing of the turbulent blood as it coursed wildly 
through the dilated veins of the organ she was exciting to the heights of 
arousal by her wanton, unabashed sucking . . . 

* 

 * 

* 

Harry found it hard to keep his mind on his driving as he sped back towards 
the apartment. He couldn't place the feelings which were rioting inside him, 
nor could he pinpoint the cause of the curious emptiness in the pit of his 
stomach. 

Ann has been as wonderful as ever, her body soft and white and mysterious, 
her lovemaking exotic and intense, and yet, he had felt the urge to leave as 
early as he could without hurting her feelings. He couldn't even entertain 
the thought that perhaps he was getting tired of her . . . but what else 
could be the reason for his sudden longing to be back home, with his own 
wife? He remembered that he hadn't really wanted to go out tonight, had kept 
making excuses to himself and finding reasons for staying at home, but Sandy 
had been strangely unencouraging. He would have thought that she'd be 
anxious to have him at home for once, after all the time he'd already been 
away, but she seemed almost relieved when he finally headed for the door. He 
couldn't help feeling that she was different lately. Not only because she 
wanted to be rid of him, but her whole manner, her way of talking, was 
different, not to mention her appearance. It seemed to him as if she was 
becoming more daring with make-up, and he had never seen her wear anything 
like the outfit she was wearing when he left. It was a long dress, right 
down to the ground, with a deep blue pattern on it. The material was 
diaphanous, and the neckline was so low that he was sure that even her 
nipples must be visible. He wasn't able to get a really close look at her, 
because she was bustling around with her make-up, but now that he thought of 
it, she had taken to wearing strange, excitingly different new outfits. Not 
that he minded any of that; it was her attitude to him which puzzled him. He 
was used, he had had to admit, to something approaching deference in her 
manner towards him, and now, lately, she was almost insolent, a mocking tone 
lurking just beneath the practiced politeness. Suddenly he was angry . . . 
at himself. This wasn't the girl he married, the somewhat shy, sweet girl 
he'd fallen in love with so suddenly. He wasn't sure he liked the new Sandy, 
and he had the sinking feeling that this tough, cold patina she had acquired 
was his fault. He had treated her so shamefully, had acted like a real 
bastard, first of all, fucking her in the rectum like that, then leaving her 
alone so much while he was with another woman. Not three months married, and 
he was cheating already! A feeling of self-loathing consumed him. How could 
he hurt and humiliate her like that? He was a despicable louse and didn't 
deserve a wife like that. Sandy certainly didn't do anything to deserve the 
bastard of a husband she was landed with . . . but he was going to change, 
he suddenly decided. Things couldn't go on like this. He and Sandy were like 
strangers and the fault was his. He'd have to forget about Ann . . . it 
would be hard, but he'd have to do it. He'd have to tell Sandy about the 
affair too, and he winced suddenly as he visualized the look of hurt and 
disbelief which would cloud her lovely features when he confessed. But he'd 
have to go through with it, and beg her forgiveness, and pray firmly that 
she would forgive him. He knew he didn't deserve any compassion, but he'd do 
his best to make up to Sandy for what he had put her through. Ann . . . he 
forcefully banished from his mind the picture of her gorgeous yielding body, 
the overwhelming touch of her practiced hands, the luscious moistness of her 
clasping pussy as it closed around his plunging cock . . . he'd have to 
forget, that was all there was to it . . . 

Harry pulled into the driveway behind the huge Cadillac, wondering vaguely 
who it could belong to. Certainly none of the other tenants in the small 
apartment building had one, and neither did the people who usually came to 
visit them. Still, he shrugged, probably nothing to do with us, as he 
bounded up the stairs, a curious constriction in his throat as he realized 
that the time for admission of his adulterous transgressions had come. 

Slowly, he unlocked the front door, and walked into the hallway. He 
hesitated, wondering if his wife would be in bed yet, and then decided that 
he'd get a drink, to prepare him for the ordeal of facing his innocent young 
wife with the story of his affair. Striding towards the kitchen, he wavered 
again, wondering at the strange noise, almost a moan, that he had just 
heard, coming, it seemed, from the living room. Probably the television, he 
decided, and then froze again. There it was once more . . . definitely some 
kind of a moan, and then . . . 

"OH GOD, SANDY . . . KEEP SUCKING . . . KEEP SUCKING MY COCK LIKE THAT!" 

Harry's blood ran cold and all color drained from his face. He stood staring 
at the closed living room door, his mouth working grotesquely, his eyes 
bulging with shock. For what seemed an eternity, he stood there, and then, 
as if automated, his legs began to take him over to the door. His hands, of 
their own volition, turned the handle, like a man sleep-walking he 
stealthily opened the door. Robot-like, he stepped into the living room, and 
his state of semi-paralysis and complete numbness prevented him from 
shrieking out at the unbelievable sight that confronted his eyes. 

His beautiful young wife was kneeling on the rug, her lovely blonde hair 
streaming like running gold over her face as her full shapely lips curved 
hungrily around the thick pole of Jeff Green's cock, already sunken almost 
to the hilt in her mouth. She was sucking his prick! 

Harry could hear his heart pounding like a sledgehammer and thought that it 
was a loud banging in the room. But his wife and her lover didn't seem to 
hear it, engrossed in their lewd task, and Harry continued to stand there, 
mesmerized into immobility. He wanted to run over there, smash Green's face 
for him and then tear Sandy limb from limb . . . but he couldn't. He 
couldn't move. As if he was rooted to the ground, he stood there, his 
burning eyes straining at the sight of the thick rod disappearing into his 
wife's warm milking mouth, almost till his pubic hairs were grazing her nose 
before reappearing from between her greedily clasping lips. Her slender 
fingers were grasped firmly around the stubby base, and her other hand was 
cupping his squirming scrotum, kneading and caressing his balls tenderly. 
Her face wore an expression of supreme bliss, a look he had never seen 
before. Harry couldn't believe it! He just couldn't believe that his wife 
was licking and sucking another man's cock, his timid shy wife who couldn't 
tolerate any but the most normal everyday, legs spread form of lovemaking. 
That's why she seemed so changed . . . it was for him that she was wearing 
all those new clothes, for him and not for me . . . 

Sandy was unfaithful to him, just as he was cheating on her! A sinking 
feeling in the depths of his stomach made his skin clammy, and a murderous 
rage began to curdle inside him. The bitch, the goddamned little bitch. 

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her lust-transformed face as she 
continued to suck with abandoned frenzy, her features rosy from exertion, 
her throat contracting from her intense little gulping motions. Jeff was 
mewling with pleasure, his head thrown back, his mouth half-open and his 
eyes closed as his fingers clutched cruelly at her hair, forcing her face 
further down on his distended prick, his hips churning in pagan rhythm. 
Suddenly a wild throaty cry rang out, stifling Harry's own snarl of anger, 
and the furious young husband saw the increased pounding of his erstwhile 
friend's pelvis against Sandy's face as he obviously reached for release. 

"AAAAGGGHH! Christ, Sandy! I'm there, I'm cumming! KEEP . . . arrggghhh! 
Sucking!!" 

He was cumming! Harry stared aghast, hardly daring to breathe as he watched 
the furious intensity of the other man's climax, his blood-swollen prick 
jumping, pushing far far back against Sandy's throat, and with a sudden 
lurch, Harry could see that he was beginning to empty the thick hot stream 
of his heated white semen deep into her hungrily gulping mouth. Good God' 
She'll choke! He found himself fearing as he stared in morbid fascination, 
watching as his wife's cheeks hollowed and filled as she tried to keep up 
with the copious flow of her lover's sperm. She gulped greedily, her body 
suffused with pleasure as she tasted hot white semen for the first time, and 
she tried desperately to swallow it all. Her hand was convulsively milking 
his tortured balls, urging on the cascade of liquid, and a thin rivulet of 
it streamed down her chin from the corner of her mouth, a tiny drop that 
escaped the abyss of her clutching throat. 

"Oh God! Baby . . . you suck cock good . . ." Jeff murmured, his hips still 
jerking forward in the throes of his orgasm, his still throbbing cock not 
yet limp in Sandy's sperm drenched. mouth. 

His laudatory words were like a whiplash around Harry's brain. With a snarl, 
barely human, he stalked further into the room, his face red, his hands 
raised and doubled into fists, his eyes snapping with cold fury. 

"You fucking little slut . . . Oh God! I'll teach you, you goddamn 
cocksucking whore . . ." 

Jeff and Sandy turned quickly to look at him, their faces registering shock 
and fear, the adulterous young wife cringing against the legs of her lover 
in a silent plea for protection from her enraged husband. 

Chapter Eight 

That moment, the moment when her husband walked into the room and saw her 
with Jeff, his limp prick still glistening from her saliva, brought her 
whole world crashing down around her ears. For the first time, the 
realization of what she had been doing was brought home to Sandy with 
resounding force, and she saw herself as her husband must see her. She 
shuddered at the thought and stared hack at Harry's livid face, silently 
beseeching him for mercy. 

"You cheating bitch!" he snarled again, taking a step towards her, murder in 
his eyes. 

"Now just a minute, Harry," Jeff began, almost amused at the young husband's 
fury. 

"And you!" he snapped, turning towards the man who had been fucking his 
wife, "I ought to break your neck, you son of a bitch!" 

"Take it easy, Harry," Jeff started again, "I can explain . . ." 

"Explain how come you were in my living-room having your cock sucked by my 
wife?" Harry sneered, his face ugly. 

"Harry, please . . ." Sandy interrupted piteously and then was sorry she had 
spoken. Harry turned to her again with new venom, enraged that she seemed to 
be defending her lover, and he reached for her brutally, pulling viciously 
on her long hair. 

"Oougghh!" she sobbed helplessly, "stop, please, Harry, you're hurting me . 
. ." 

"Listen to me, Harry . . ." Jeff began again but was cut short by Harry's 
leer. 

"You stay out of this! This has to do with me and . . . and this slut!" 

Sandy winced from his invective, wishing she could disappear into thin air. 
She had never felt so embarrassed and humiliated in her life. All her new 
feelings and views were wiped out by the reality of her husband catching her 
being unfaithful! It was the end . . . of their marriage, her life, in fact 
. . . she was destroyed beyond recall . . . Harry would never forgive her. 

"Oh Harry darling, please listen . . . " she begged, but her plea was 
useless. Harry was like a stranger, a cold, unfeeling and very angry 
stranger. She was afraid of him, deathly afraid . . . he might kill her! 

He grabbed her roughly, still mouthing obscenities, his face inscrutable, 
and Sandy groaned as he began to tear at her dress, pulling it from her 
shoulders, baring her ripely heaving young breasts, ripping at it until it 
lay in shreds on the floor, and she was quivering, clad only in thin white 
bikini panties and a flimsy bra, cringing against the floor, her hair matted 
around her face, her eyes fearful and bulging wide. 

Harry was bending over her, his eyes greedily taking in the curves of her 
trembling white body, and then once more he was pulling at her bra, tearing 
it, revealing her firm palpitating breasts, clutching at her panties, 
leaving her completely naked. 

"No, please don't Harry . . . I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean . . ." 

"Shut up, whore!" he screamed, raising his hand and slapping her full across 
the face with savage force. 

"Now Pitt, watch . . . " Jeff began but was silenced by Harry's murderous 
reply. 

"She's my wife . . . I'll do what I like! I told you to keep out of this!" 

Sandy was sobbing wildly now, her arms thrown protectively around her face, 
her whole frame wracked with convulsive moans. Oh God! 

What terrible anger had she unleashed in him? What could she do to stop him? 

There was silence for a moment, and Sandy heard the rustling of clothes. Her 
heart pounding with apprehension, she peeped out from under her arm, and 
then her throat went dry and chalky as she saw that Harry too had stripped 
down totally nude! But her eyes were fastened immovably on the huge 
distended erection of his grossly-enlarged penis, hovering like a giant 
python over her. God! She'd never seen it so large! She continued to stare 
at it with mounting fear, unable to drag her sight away from it, so 
pulsatingly alive Was it, like a separate entity. 

With a gasp, she felt her husband's hands on her knees, roughly forcing her 
thighs apart until she thought she'd scream from the unbearable strain. He 
was glaring lustfully at the open furrow of her vagina, revealed by his 
brutal strength, and a cold wave of fear washed over her. 

"Oh Harry, please don't . . ." she wailed again, desperately trying to 
escape her husband's vicious grasp. 

"Open your eyes, whore, and see what I've got for you!" he leered cruelly, 
his eyes roaming lasciviously over her tremulous body. She refused to obey, 
unable to look again at the monstrous erection. 

"Look at what I've got for you, slut!" he shrilled again, his fingers like 
talons in her flesh. 

She forced herself to look once more at the thick, snake-like length of 
Harry's inflated cock and couldn't disguise the look of dread which came 
over her face. It was huge! Bigger than she'd ever seen it before! He'd kill 
her with it! 

She stared, wide-eyed with horror, as he settled himself on his knees 
between her slightly open legs, the enormous shaft nudging against her 
quivering inner thigh. Her mouth was arid, and she tried to whimper, but no 
sound would come. She could hardly believe that this nightmare was happening 
to her, and she knew how prisoners must feel when they are facing the 
torture chamber . . . filled with numbing disbelief yet quaking with 
paralytic fear. She wished she could faint but knew she wouldn't. There was 
no escaping her husband's anger -- it was her punishment for what she had 
done. She had been unfaithful to him and now she must face the consequences. 
Even though Harry himself had been unfaithful to her, she knew, with her 
woman's soul, that her lot would be different from his, even though the 
crime was the same. That was a woman's role, to be cast as the real sinner, 
and the fate of countless generations of women had subconsciously prepared 
her for it. There was no escaping the wrath of a wronged husband . . . 

She moaned as she felt her husband's hands fumbling with the tender delicate 
flesh of her vagina, pulling apart the soft fleece-rimmed folds, exposing 
the helplessly quivering hole of her pussy, baring it completely to his 
lust. There was something so lascivious about his contorted features that 
Sandy hardly recognized him, and she wondered if she was going crazy. The 
world was turned upside down, thrown into complete chaos, and she was sure 
she'd never find her way out of it. 

Through tear-swimming eyes, she watched as Harry guided, the head of his 
anger-engorged penis towards the small opening to her body, and she cringed 
back from the hard contact of his unyielding maleness. She steeled herself, 
gritting her teeth, waiting for the ultimate humiliation . . . 

"AAARRRGGHH . . . OH NO! PLEASE STOP . . . PLEASE DON'T!" she begged shrilly 
as she felt the first torturous splitting as the giant head pushed past the 
thin, futilely resisting lips and began to worm itself up inside her tight 
fearfully cringing cunt. 

"0000HHHHhhhnnn . . ." she sobbed again as her body felt as if it was being 
split in two by the huge cudgel which was entering her helplessly quivering 
flesh. She tried to struggle, to dislodge the steel-like skewer up between 
her wide-held thighs, but her movements only seemed to draw it even further 
into her defenseless belly, and she desisted, fighting to control the 
hysterical moans which were rising in her throat in response to the 
diabolical pain which was invading her. 

"How . . . do . . . you . . . like . . . that, whore?" Harry gasped as he 
forced his way deeper and deeper into her resistant little pussy, oblivious 
to her disgust and fear and agony. His venomous words cut her like a knife, 
lacerating her flesh, tearing sadistically at her heart. He hated her, that 
was obvious, she thought pitifully, fresh tears coursing down her face. 

"Hhhmmpphh . . . aaahhhh . . ." she gasped again as she felt the rubbery tip 
of his forcefully slithering prick graze against the softness of her cervix. 
He was all the way in! She could feel his burning balls brushing against the 
nakedly spread cheeks of her firm little ass and the crisp pubic curls at 
the base of his sunken penis tickling against her swollen vaginal lips. She 
was at his mercy, and there was nothing she could do about it except lie 
there limply and take whatever he gave her. It was his privilege as a man . 
. . and her place as a woman. 

At last he began to withdraw with painful slowness, the inflated flesh of 
his prick pulling out with it the tender interior membrane of her tormented 
cuntal walls. He withdrew almost completely and then hesitated before 
slamming forward again with all his might, his face wreathed with a vengeful 
leering grin. 

"AAagh! Aaaaghhh! AAAGGHHH!" she wailed as new pain assaulted her. It was 
unbearable! He was killing her . . . she'd never be able to walk again. And 
the worst of it all was, he didn't seem to care. All he was interested in 
was abusing her and satisfying his own perverted lust. 

Harry watched his wife's beautiful young face contorted in agony below with 
sadistic pleasure. This'll teach the little cocksucker . . . his wounded 
pride was like a cat o'nine tails, flailing at him, urging him on to 
domineering bestiality, goading him into brutality to ease his own pain. 
He'd make her suffer the way he had suffered when he walked in and found her 
sucking another man's cock! 

He began to fuck into her with cruel hard strokes, feeling the abrasive rush 
of his cock as it sliced into her upturned young pussy, feeling the dry 
harsh tug as it withdrew, pulling little tendrils of the moist pink flesh 
with it. His hands reached forward and clamped down on the palpitating 
mounds of her breasts, his fingers clutching at the soft flesh, raising red 
welts on the golden smoothness, wringing sobs of pain from his helplessly 
writhing young wife. But he couldn't stop himself. He was borne along on the 
wings of his hurt feelings, his savage lust . . . and his guilt. In the 
first few minutes of terrible discovery, he had completely forgotten his own 
failings . . . that he had just a short time ago been fucking the wife of 
the man he had caught with Sandy. But now that face came back with pristine 
clarity, and he felt a deep disgust inside him, disgust at his own sin, 
disgust at the way he was taking it out on his wife . . . his own crime and 
hers . . . she was bearing the brunt for both of them . . . 

But he couldn't stop himself as he fucked into her cringing form 
unmercifully. He felt he was a man no longer . . . just a raving beast 
venting his primitive emotions on a hapless woman. 

Sandy had ceased moaning; the clearing of the initial pain lessened her 
anguish, and she felt nothing but numbing emptiness. Her body, grown so 
accustomed to love, was not reacting to her husband now . . . but this was 
not love. 

Harry was incensed by her lack of response, her inertia, her apparent 
casualness. 

"This is the way to fuck a whore!" he panted lewdly, "Now act like one . . . 
Put some life into that hot little ass of yours . . . Do a little grinding, 
slut . . ." 

Dear God in heaven, help me . . . Sandy sobbed to herself, her husband's 
words seething in her brain. But he's right, I am a whore . . . only a whore 
would do the things with another man that I've done. I deserve to be treated 
like this, I deserve it . . . 

Sandy stiffened, unable to believe that she had really felt the tingle of 
familiar pleasure between her legs. But she had! There was no denying it. 
She tried desperately to quench it. She couldn't let him know that her body 
was reacting to his animal screwing . . . she just couldn't. But there was 
no stopping it. The tingling grew out of all control, fanned, it seemed, by 
her resistance to it, until her entire frame was shook by a convulsive 
shudder. She was beginning to enjoy the brutal, almost sadistic fucking her 
husband was subjecting her to, and she couldn't hide it any longer. 

"Mmmmmm . . . oooohhh . . ." she sighed as her pelvis began a slow familiar 
churning and her flesh rippled with the first tiny rolling waves of 
pleasure. She was responding to her husband, and she couldn't help herself. 

Harry stopped for a moment, unable to believe his senses. He just couldn't 
believe that Sandy was reacting to his lewd fucking of her in front of 
another man, reacting in a way he had never dreamed possible. But she was! 
She was mewling with pleasure, her body alive with pleasurable sensations, 
far more aroused than he had ever seen her before. 

"Honey . . ." he began tentatively, staring down at her face. It was 
transformed now, wearing a look of supreme rapture, and suddenly her arms 
reached up and embraced him, pulling him down to her, opening her still 
sperm covered lips to receive his tongue. A wave of pleasure swept over him, 
washing away his anger, his guilt, washing him clean of everything but a 
blinding happiness as he realized that his wife was responding fully to him 
for the first time! 

"Oh Sandy honey . . ." he moaned, his mouth closing on hers in a tight 
passionate kiss. 

Jeff stared dumbfounded at the naked young couple writhing in wild 
intercourse on the floor. He had derived a sadistic enjoyment from watching 
Pitt's brutal abuse of his young wife, and although he felt sorry for her 
and had tried to intervene, he couldn't help getting aroused from observing 
the lasciviously exciting act. His prick had swollen to hardness again, and 
he fondled it gently, urging it on to greater erection, peering all the 
while at the hotly grinding pair on the rug. But the greatest shock of all 
was when he saw that Sandy was beginning to submit to her husband, was 
beginning to enjoy his screwing. He could hardly believe it; she had been so 
cowed, so terrified at first, and now she was mewling with pleasure, 
grinding her ass up like a street whore, her body craving more and more. 
He'd never have believed it if he hadn't seen it himself. His own urgency 
was growing, doubled by the exciting thought of Sandy's transformation from 
frightened frigidity to fiery passion, and his eyes hungrily devoured the 
sensual curves of her voluptuously aroused young body. His prick was like a 
time-bomb, ticking over with unexploded power, ready to detonate at any 
moment . . . 

His lust-clouded brain was fumbling for a solution, and his eyes were glazed 
and strained from staring jealously at the young married pair. As if in a 
trance, his legs began to walk robot-like towards the pair, a strange 
twisted leer contorting his mouth . . . 

Sandy was ecstatic. This was heaven . . . Harry had forgiven her, it was 
obvious, and now they were really making love, and it was the way she'd 
dreamed it would be. It was wonderful! 

"Oh Harry darling . . . it feels so good . . . your cock feels so good 
inside me . . ." She purred, spiraling her cunt up and matching her supple 
young body to her husband's virile thrusts. 

At first, she imagined she felt other hands on her, but a moment passed, and 
she knew that she had not. Then! Moments later . . . 

"Wha . . ." she began tentatively, apprehensive again. 

"It's me, Jeff . . . " The voice was hoarse and rasping, "Roll over, baby . 
. . Daddy wants a ride too . . ." 

Sandy was bewildered, her mind racing. What did he mean? What did he want? 
She felt her body being twisted and dazedly allowed herself to be rolled 
over so that she was kneeling on top of her husband, his driving prick still 
slamming unwaveringly up into her contracting depths. Once more she felt 
Jeff's hands, like spiders crawling over the tender flesh of her buttocks, 
kneading the smoothly rounded cheeks, pulling and straining the soft 
yielding mounds apart. A tremor of fear caught at Sandy's heart. Oh God! 
What did he have in mind now? 

She could feel the thick hardness of his fully erect member digging into her 
backside, squirming against her like a giant worm, and she could feel his 
warm breath heating the back of her neck as he knelt behind her nakedly 
raised buttocks and showered her back with hard little bites. Her brain was 
confused, her body reacting both to her husband's lovemaking below and her 
lover's attentions from behind. 

''Harry . . . darling?" she moaned questioningly, but he didn't answer. His 
eyes were closed, and he was breathing heavily in a blissful world of his 
own. 

Again she felt the soft white moons of her buttocks being pried apart with 
alien thumbs and felt the urgent probing of Jeff's huge, desire-hardened 
cock as it pressed hotly into the open crevice of her ass. She could feel 
the wetness from the head lubricating her naked skin and shivered from the 
illicit touch of his hardened penis there. 

Jeff began to nudge at the tiny puckered hole with the tip of his cock, 
noting with satisfaction the tightness of the tiny rounded circle. Then, 
with a lewd grunt, he began to probe at it with his forefinger, and 
suddenly, without warning. he rammed it up inside, sinking it to the second 
knuckle joint into her unsuspecting anal passage. 

"Oooowwwww . . ." Sandy sobbed suddenly, taken unaware by the grating pain. 
She tried to wriggle her backside, but she was held fast between naked 
bodies of the two men and couldn't move. She could feel Jeff's finger 
rotating slowly around in her anus, and she trembled with the unnatural 
pain. Harry was still blithely screwing up into her vagina from below, and 
the intense pleasure she was experiencing in her vagina contrasted strangely 
with the agony she was suffering behind. 

With a sigh of relief, she felt Jeff withdraw his finger, but she caught her 
breath again as she felt him guide the thick, blood-engorged length of his 
penis towards the tiny defenseless circle. 

"Oh Jeff, please no. . . she groaned in an urgent whisper, but it was too 
late. With a chest-deep grunt, he surged forward and managed to penetrate 
her small, tightly clenched rectum with just the tip of his cockhead. 

"Oooohhh God!! . . . Stop! Stop! You're splitting me!" she screamed, 
flailing her firmly rounded young buttocks madly as she felt the brutal 
pressure of the huge instrument lodged in her back passage. But her 
struggles were useless, and Jeff, with a slight pop, ground the remainder of 
the head in and continued to surge forward, forcing his blood-filled prick 
deeper, sinking it, inch by slow, torturous inch into her tightly resisting 
little rectum. 

''Please Jeff, don't . . . oh God . . . Uuugghhnhhh!" she gasped again, as 
with a deep grunt, he lunged forward and sunk it completely to the hilt in 
her tightly clenched back channel. Sandy's mind was totally engulfed by the 
stinging pain, unable to comprehend fully what was happening. Her rectal 
passage seemed on fire and her spine a continuation of the fiery agony. She 
could feel Jeff's long rangy cock moving about inside her, mercilessly 
widening her anal sheath and flexing larger and larger with palpitating 
strength. Then with a low grateful moan, she realized that he was 
withdrawing, and his exiting was almost as painful as his brutal entry. 
Again, he rammed forward, splitting her backside unbearably, causing Sandy 
to sob out with pain. But then miraculously as he began to fuck into her, 
the pain cleared and left her with a strange lucidness which quickly began 
to dissolve into a slow lingering sense of pleasure. 

For a moment the young wife's confusion-wracked mind was suspended in 
disbelief, and then her body was convulsed with long complete shudders of 
pleasure. She was beginning to enjoy it, this perverted anal fucking, enjoy 
it as she was enjoying her husband's penis thrusting into her vagina. She 
was actually enjoying the double fucking she was receiving by her angered 
husband and lust-maddened lover at the same time! 

She could hardly believe it and for a moment was shocked at her own 
wantonness. But as pleasure overtook and overpowered her, she threw caution 
to the wind and revelled in the novel sensation of being screwed by two men 
at once. This was really what it was all about, she thought happily, riding 
the crest of her pleasure, finally freed from the manacles which chained her 
morally to the earth. Now I've experienced all, she told herself 
ecstatically, as her body rocked back and forth between her husband and her 
lover, giving itself up completely to its hedonistic enjoyment. She thrust 
downward energetically to receive Harry's demonic in-plunges from below 
before grinding her buttocks hotly back to absorb Jeff's hard pistoning cock 
deeper into her hungrily clasping anus. 

Her body was coated in perspiration, sandwiched between the two men, and her 
brain was light and dizzy from her exalted enjoyment. There was never 
anything like it, she thought crazily, and a sudden image of how lewd and 
obscene she must look entered her brain and titillated her with its lewdness 
as she pictured herself, her hair streaming, buffeted between Harry and 
Jeff, giving her body to both of them at once, accepting both their wildly 
pistoning cocks at the same time, experiencing double the pleasure. She was 
truly liberated now, she moaned happily to herself; she would never be the 
same again, and what's more, she didn't want to be! Now that she knew by his 
rape that Harry loved her again, nothing else mattered, and she was free to 
enjoy all the delights of her body which Jeff had freed from its Victorian 
prudery. Forgotten were all Harry's insults, his anger . . . nothing was 
left but the exquisite pleasure that she was feeling and the knowledge that 
things were all right again between them. 

Her body was being carried away now on wings of unparalleled delight, and 
she was happy to let it go to whatever heights it was lifted, to give 
herself over completely to whatever was going to happen. Her head was 
spinning, and she felt light as a feather, and the wet fleshy slapping 
sounds that resounded in the room joined with her own cries of orgasm as her 
nakedly spread young body was tossed about in a series of bone-shaking 
spasms which signaled the first beginning of her coming orgasm. 

"Oh God, keep fucking . . . keep fucking me . . . I'm there . . . I'm . . . 
I'm cummmiinnggg . . ." She hardly recognized her own voice spewing out the 
lewd word, hardly recognized her hoarse cries as her body was pounded and 
battered by the mounting passion of the two lust-crazed men, each merciless 
in his screwing. They fucked into her in well-timed unison, their exploding 
cocks rubbing against each other through the thinly dividing membrane 
between her rectum and cunt. The hotly clenching twin passages seemed to be 
trying to outdo each other in scintillating sensation, and her flesh was 
tingling in every pore and nerve ending. 

"AAAAGGGGHHH!" she continued to scream as wave after incredible wave of 
intense pleasure swept over her, soothing the trembling of her body, causing 
her to shudder and sob with the depths of her cumming. She had never known 
anything like it. It was a total release, involving her completely. Even her 
brain was alive with leaping kaleidoscopic images, far away in a world of 
its own. This is true pleasure, she thought happily, There's no going back 
now . . . 

Her wild rocketing signaled the two men's hovering orgasms, and their 
equally wild grunts were raucous and hoarse as they felt the force of their 
approaching ejaculations. 

"Oh honey, honey, I'm there, I'm there . . . AAAGGGHHH . . ." Harry sobbed 
out, his body tightening like a bow before crumpling into a thousand tiny 
spasms of overwhelming violence. 

"000HHH Christ! Baby, fuck back . . . fuck your ass back . . ." Jeff 
suddenly screamed, and then the two men began to spurt their thick hot semen 
into her wildly churning passages in unison, sending white streams of it 
shooting far up into her womb and bowels, flooding her completely, 
commingling in her inner depths, crowning the intense pleasure she was 
receiving from the violent double fuck. Their ejaculating sperm seemed 
never-ending, as volatile and amazing as their climaxes themselves. On and 
on they spewed out their love juice into her, and Sandy happily accepted it 
until at last their pricks, tired and limp and rapidly deflating, finally 
slipped from her dually stretched passages, wet and slippery from the 
backlash of their own semen. 

The two men collapsed on the rug beside Sandy, and all three breathed deeply 
with complete satiation, their bodies still tingling, her flesh pulsating 
from the force of their simultaneous release. 

In the dim of her mind, Sandy heard a door being opened, and then a loud 
unfamiliar voice, a female voice, rang out: 

"Good God, what have you been doing to the child?" 

Chapter Nine 

Sandy stared in amazement at the tall, beautiful woman who was striding into 
the living room. She was so surprised to see a stranger, that she forgot for 
a moment that she, and Jeff and Harry were all stark naked. As she continued 
to scrutinize the lovely stranger, she realized that her face seemed 
familiar, and then, Sandy stifled a gasp as she realized who she was. 

"M--Mrs. Green . . . " she whispered involuntarily. 

"You poor girl!" Ann clucked, moving over towards where Sandy was lying. For 
a moment, Sandy was afraid that the older woman was going to strike her, but 
to her surprise, she found herself being enveloped in her arms, and pressed 
close to her warm, feminine breast. Sandy was too surprised to raise any 
objection, and she found, with astonishment, that it actually felt good, 
being cradled lovingly like that, very safe and secure. The two men were 
staring aghast at Ann, Harry discomfited, his face beet red, Jeff casual and 
smiling. 

"Well, honey, how did you get here?" he asked at last, with that curious 
smile still playing about his lips. 

"Never mind that!" Ann snapped, her eyes glowering. "You two ought to be 
ashamed of yourselves, treating the poor innocent girl like that!" 

"She didn't seem to mind it," Jeff laughed, "in fact, I'd say she rather 
enjoyed it!" 

Ann knew that Sandy was really none the worse for wear, but she knew that 
Harry's wife was very young and inexperienced, and her heart went out to 
her. .She could sense that there was a knot of fear convulsing her deep 
down, that she herself probably didn't even know about. It was obvious that 
Harry and Sandy had patched up, and she was glad of this, she thought, as 
she stroked the younger woman's sleek blonde hair. Ann had sensed that there 
was something wrong with Harry when he left her so early, obviously 
agitated, and with her long knowledge of young married men, intuitively hit 
on the truth. Knowing that her husband, Jeff was already with Sandy, Ann had 
decided that she'd better drive over and straighten. things out, if need be. 

But she admitted to herself, with a chuckle, that her motives weren't all 
altruistic. She knew Jeff well and knew that he would be able to turn the 
scene to his advantage, and the jealous thought of her husband having all 
that fun by himself cinched the decision and urged her to take action. Now 
she was glad that Sandy apparently appreciated her presence. She really was 
a beautiful girl, she mused, entirely without rancor, observing the smooth 
gold of her chiseled features, the sculpted lines of her slender young body. 
She could see what had made Jeff so mad to get her, and could forgive him 
his headstrong action in this case. The thing that surprised her was that 
Harry could have shown any interest in anyone other than this lovely young 
creature. But she realized, as he had confessed in the beginning, that they 
were having marital problems, and she knew now that they were straightened 
out, thanks to Jeff. 

Harry was staring at her in open-mouthed amazement and she stifled a laugh. 

"Don't worry, Harry," she soothed, "I'm not going to harm your lovely wife . 
. . it's just that she needs a woman's comfort now!" 

That's right, Sandy thought dreamily, that's what I need, and she raised no 
objection when she felt Ann's face nearing hers, and felt the touch of her 
light warm lips on her own mouth. 

Ann was kissing her, and she didn't mind. In fact, she liked the other 
woman's kiss . . . there was something sweet and undemanding and relaxing 
about it, after the avaricious demands of the men. Amazingly, she found 
herself responding, parting her lips, and allowing the older woman to slip 
her tongue inside. It felt good, she thought happily, I like it! A shiver 
rippled through her at the sudden touch of Jeff's wife's hands moving down 
her throat, coming to rest on the firm naked globes of her breasts. Her long 
slender fingers were brushing electrically against the hardening nipples, 
caressing them ever so lightly, and Sandy moaned almost inaudibly, aware of 
strange new feelings cascading through her. Ann's fingers were feather soft, 
like velvet as they stroked the sensitive areolas, tweaked the buds of her 
nipples, nearly turgid again, brushed along the tender flesh of her flanks. 
0h good God, how good it felt . . . so light, so soothing . . . 

Jeff was staring bemusedly at the scene, not surprised at his wife's 
behavior, and still captivated by his lovely protg. The wild three-way 
fuck had really titillated him, and captured his imagination, and he felt a 
sort of pride in how well Sandy had responded to the call of sensual 
delight. He was somewhat surprised to find himself still enraptured by her 
gorgeous antelope-like body, and found himself drawing near and nearer to 
where the two women were kissing and fondling each other. 

Of their own volition, Sandy's hands had reached up and unbuttoned the older 
woman's blouse . . . they were searching inside her bra . . . withdrawing 
the full mounds of her cream-white breasts. She wanted to show Ann how much 
she appreciated her kind caresses, her exhilarating kiss . . . she wanted to 
let Julie feel the wonderful sensuality of female hands on her breasts, just 
like she herself was feeling them. She found the soft flaccid flesh and ran 
her fingertips along the smooth surface, searching deeper until she found 
the hard berries of her nipples, awakening eagerly at her touch. They felt 
firm and resilient, and new thrills excited Sandy as she continued to stroke 
and massage Ann's full, ivory globes . . . 

Harry stared uncomprehendingly at his wife, his eyes blinking in disbelief. 
He couldn't believe, at first, that she had actually accepted the other 
woman's kisses and caresses, but now, what was even more astounding, was the 
fact that she was willingly stroking Ann's breasts, obviously enthralled by 
the whole idea. He was conscious of a feeling of deflation almost, at the 
knowledge that there was obviously a side of his wife that he didn't know 
about . . . a side which Jeff must have uncovered . . . which he, her 
husband was unable to do. Peeved as he might be over that, he had to admit 
that he was glad it was uncovered, no matter what the reason, and he could 
scarcely believe that this lovely exotic creature was his wife. She had 
amazed him by responding to his cruel, bad-tempered fucking, and he had been 
flabbergasted when she had accepted Jeff at the same time, finally reaching 
a climax from the two way fuck. Now she was revealing another side of her 
personality, and Harry felt a strange lurid thrill of excitement as he 
watched the unusual scene, conscious of a rising force of lust. 

Sandy was cocooned in bliss, enraptured by the new sensations she was 
feeling, carried away by the seductive charms of the older woman. She was 
oblivious to the two men who had taken her so forcefully a few minutes 
before, so she was somewhat shaken when she felt her thighs being gently 
spread apart. 

She stifled a gasp of surprise, when glancing down she saw that Jeff was 
hovering between her knees, and she vaguely, in her all-female euphoria, 
wondered what he was doing. In the back of her mind, she felt that she 
wanted to be left alone, left to enjoy Ann's soft, feminine embraces, but at 
the same time . . . 

She drew in her breath quickly when she felt the hard familiar nudging of a 
thick, again hardened cock at her tender vaginal flesh, still tingling and 
wet from her husband's flooding semen. Jeff's turgid cock was urgent and 
insistent and Sharon flinched from the enticing contact. His hands were 
crawling over her thighs, twisting her pelvis around so that she felt his 
breath hot and moist on her smooth- silky buttocks. She couldn't suppress a 
moan of disappointment as he began to urge her upwards, coaxing her to her 
knees, and she knew a shudder of fear as she felt the touch of his 
desire-hardened member against her tender flesh. She trembled, clinging to 
Ann as Jeff guided the hotly pulsating head towards the thin, vertical mouth 
of her vagina, positioning it at the tingling entrance to her body. 

His hands reached out and clutched voraciously at her thighs, steadying her 
in place, and then with a grunt, he heaved forward, and the smooth rubbery 
tip penetrated the outer folds of her warmly quivering pussy, slicing wetly 
through the thin softly curling tendrils of pussy hair and on into the 
openly receptive vaginal walls beyond. 

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh . . . uuuggghhhnnnnn . . ." Sandy sighed as she 
felt the urgent penetration, felt the heavy, blood-bloated member surge 
through her heated vaginal sheath, plunge onward until it came into 
titillating contact with the mouth of her womb. 

''Oooooooohhhhhh . . . mmmmmmmmnnnn . . ." she gasped as Jeff flexed the 
hardened rod of flesh deep up inside her, and her throbbing interior muscles 
responded with a fluttering quiver. Her cuntal sheath throbbed around and 
closed in like a velvet glove on his deeply imbedded cock, trapping it up 
inside her eager depths, teasing it to swell into even thicker proportions. 

Sandy's head was fuzzy and she couldn't think straight. Her senses were 
dimmed from the curious combination of being kissed and fondled by Ann while 
Ann's husband fucked her from the rear, dog fashion. Jeff slowly began to 
withdraw, his hard, swollen cock pulling slowly out and Sandy found her 
cuntal sinews contracting, eager to keep the welcome fullness of it inside 
her. But he rammed forward again, almost lifting Sandy up off her knees from 
the force of his lunge, burying his hardness deep up inside her, feeling the 
cheeks of her smoothly rounded buttocks flattening back against his stomach. 
He closed his eyes, engrossed in the ecstasy of the act, his fingers 
clutching at her velvety flesh, exalting in the soft womanliness of her 
voluptuously curved young body. 

Harry stared in mounting astonishment at the scene. Ann and Jeff Green had 
taken over his wife, leaving him on the sidelines. He was dumbfounded at 
Jeff, pulling his, Harry's wife, to her knees casually and then with equal 
ease, fucking into her from the rear, while his own wife continued to kiss 
and caress her from the front. 

He became aware of his own growing desire by the clamoring in his distended 
cock . . . it had risen to full erection as he watched the two girls, and 
now a feeling of being left out combined with frustrated anger and lust as 
he watched Jeff's casual approach to his wife. With an angry growl, he moved 
towards the trio, roughly shouldering Ann aside in his blind outburst. Ann 
smiled to herself, not surprised by his behavior, and allowed him to 
position himself beside his wife. 

Sandy was astonished by what was happening, and she suffered a pang of 
disappointment when she felt Ann's warm hands being torn away from her eager 
breasts. 

"Sandy . . . Sandy . . ." 

Sandy opened her eyes to see her young husband lying beside her, his huge 
prick bobbing before him, held aloft between his thumb and forefinger. 

"Harry . . ." she mumbled dumbly, her eyes dropping to his livid erection, 
her face already flushed with the pleasure from Jeff's screwing. 

"I want you to suck my cock . . ." her husband rasped hoarsely, his eyes 
wild with lust, "suck it in your mouth . . . just like you did Jeff's . . ." 

A quiver of fear convulsed Sandy as she remembered how Harry had burst in 
and caught her having sucked Jeff to completion and she wondered if he 
wasn't just throwing her infidelity back at her. But it was obvious, from 
the desire evident in his face and his pleading voice that he wasn't, and 
she glanced again at the huge tumescence of his cock. 

Yes, yes, I'd like to suck it . . . just like I sucked Jeff's . . . I'd like 
to taste my husband's cum . . . know the feel of it in my mouth . . . then 
I'd really have gone all the way . . . 

As if in a trance, her hands reached out for the long, blood-engorged shaft, 
her fingertips grazing along the burning surface. Harry sighed from the 
coolness of her touch, and Sandy could feel it pulsating easily in her hand. 
She gently rotated it between her fingers and her palms, eliciting moans of 
passion from her tongue and licked it along the throbbing length, feeling 
the pounding heat of it under her teasing organ. Her hand steadied it at the 
base, circling it with thumb and forefinger, deep down among the curly 
wisps, and with almost torturous slowness, guided it towards her waiting 
lips. 

Harry jerked back as if stung from the sudden contact between her soft, 
moist lips and his hot, fiery prick, and moaned as he felt her mouth grasp 
it eagerly, felt the gentle pressure of her teeth on the webbed underside, 
felt her tongue dab tentatively at the pounding granite-hard head. 

"Oh God, Sandy, that's it . . ." he moaned through clenched teeth, as his 
fingers tangled in her hair and he pushed her face down onto his jerking 
member. Sandy trembled from the sensation of having her mouth filled at last 
with her own husband's passion-hardened cock, inhaling the strong male odor 
of him, tasting the living warmth of his masculinity with her aroused lips. 
Joyfully, she began to lick and suck at it, swirling and laying with her 
flowing salival juices, dipping her tongue into the tiny glans opening at 
the tip. Her hand dropped from the wiry base and began to massage the 
squirming sac of his balls, churning the roiling sperm into tumultuous 
activity. Her eyes closed in ecstasy as she gave herself up to sucking her 
husband's penis while Jeff screwed into her from behind in long, hard, even 
strokes. 

Ann observed the strange trio with growing desire. Her hands crept 
surreptitiously to her naked breasts, cold and lonely now that Sandy's 
slender fingers weren't caressing them. She felt their palpitating warmth, 
and was aware of a surge of excitement rippling through her. Eagerly, she 
stripped away her skirt, and eased down her panties, revelling in the 
freedom of being nude. Determined now not to be left out, she moved over to 
where her husband and the Pitts were engrossed in their three-way act. 

Completely aroused now, she positioned herself on the floor beside Harry, 
spreading her legs wide, offering him the tempting opening of her heated 
pussy. 

Harry was startled by this new development and stared unblinkingly at the 
moist pinkness of her lusciously gleaming vaginal furrow, provocatively 
displayed for his benefit. His hardened penis was on fire and felt as if it 
was expanding by the second in Sandy's warm, caressing mouth, and his body 
was convulsed with delicious quivers of pleasure. The nearness of Ann, now, 
aroused him even more, and without further thought, he lowered his head and 
drank in the intoxicating odor of her femininity. He lashed out with his 
tongue and swept it along the throbbing vaginal slit, his hands tightening 
on her thighs, pulling her closer to him. His tongue agilely dipped into her 
soft, hair-fringed folds and crevices, drawing out her heated female juices, 
searching the creases and crevices of her openly presented cunt. She was 
moaning freely, already impassioned, her body squirming against the rug, her 
knees drawn up, her own hands kneading furiously at her excitedly 
palpitating breasts. 

He dabbed with his tongue at the writhing hole of her eager little pussy, 
teasing it gently, before stiffening forcibly and then ramming headlong into 
the hungrily accepting orifice. 

"Oooooohhhhhhh . . . aaaaahhhhhh . . ." Ann moaned ecstatically, her tongue 
running along her dry parched lips, her face a mask of contorted lust. She 
was grinding her crotch against Harry's mouth, her passion dripping cunt 
flowering open to rim his nose and mouth and draw his tongue farther into 
her churning depths. 

Sandy was aware of the movement as she continued to enclose her husband's 
warm, pulsing cock in her mouth and for a second, assumed that Harry was 
just shifting position. But Ann's loud moan of pleasure assailed her ears, 
and opening her eyes she choked back a gasp when she saw that her husband 
was licking Jeff's wife's cunt. She felt a twinge of jealousy when she 
recalled that Ann was her husband's mistress, but it was forgotten in the 
surges of delight which continually rippled through her body. She could see 
the smooth wet pinkness of the older woman's hungrily throbbing pussy, she 
could see the petal-shaped opening contracting wetly around her husband's 
tongue, see the visibly pulsating head of her aroused clitoris. 

Her own pleasure was rising by the second as her body thrust back against 
Jeff's raging penis and she timed her own delirious tonguing with his 
passionate rhythm. She felt a new growing excitement at the thought of the 
lascivious four-way event she was involved in. She derived a lurid thrill 
from the thought that she was being fucked from the rear by another man, 
while she sucked her husband's cock, while he in turn kissed and licked the 
other man's wife's pussy. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined that 
she would be involved in anything resembling this, and yet, here she was, 
enjoying it like crazy, satisfying and being satisfied, her body a volcano 
of fiery sensations. She could feel the pressure for release mounting 
steadily in her body and knew that she couldn't hold out much longer. She 
wanted the wild act to last for as long as possible, but the end was in 
sight for her, and for the others, too, she knew. She could tell by the 
quickening tempo of their furious sucking and fucking and licking, and her 
pulsebeat throbbed in hedonistic anticipation. 

Jeff was the first to cum, gasping and grunting like a bull, his 
pile-driving prick pistoning into her vagina with dynamic, buttock whacking 
strokes, nearly knocking her off balance. 

"Hump your ass back . . . Move . . . AAAAAARRRGGGGGGG . . ." he yelled out, 
his body shaken like a puppet as torrents of pleasure washed over him, 
making his cries incoherent, drowned out in the cacophony of the wetly 
sluicing fucking sounds that reverberated in the room. He battered brutally 
against her buttocks, and with amazing suddenness, Sandy felt her whole body 
go tense and knew that the moment had come for her. 

She groaned and cried out but her sighs were muffled, around Harry's wildly 
jerking cock, as she twitched and churned in delirious release. 

Her body quivered and shook and was jolted by exquisite flashes of fiery 
heat, leaving her breathless and excited. Through the daze of her own 
cumming, she was aware of a tautness in Harry's body, and then her mouth was 
filled to overflowing with a hot lava of heated white liquid which gushed 
unchecked into her choking throat, flooding her completely, making her gulp 
greedily in a futile effort to swallow it all. She wanted to take every drop 
of it, this, her husband's sperm which she was tasting for the first time, 
but some of it managed to trickle lewdly down the corners of her mouth to 
her chin. Still the flood continued, as never ending as the flood which 
poured into her vaginal sheath and belly from behind from the unsatiable 
Jeff, and she felt the two liquids commingling hotly once more in the depths 
of her hungrily welcoming stomach. From far, far away, she heard Ann's cries 
of tumultuous orgasm. 

"Ooohhhh! Oooohhh! Ooooohh!" she sobbed wildly, "I'm there! I'm . . . I'm . 
. . Aaaaaagggghhhhh . . ." And she was cumming too, grinding her greedily 
gushing pussy against Harry's cunt mashed lips and nose, releasing a mist of 
warm, female moisture onto his perspiring face. 

It seemed to Sandy that the four of them experienced one long orgasm which 
started with Jeff and worked its way along the lascivious serpent to Ann, 
ending there. At last, it was quiet, the air sounding only with the heavy 
breathing and deep satiated sighs of the two couples as they clung lovingly 
to each other in perfect contentment. 

Chapter Ten 

"I just couldn't help myself!" Harry confessed sheepishly, hardly daring to 
look at Sandy. 

It was very late, and the Greens had finally left. 

"It's all right, darling," Sandy insisted, a smile curving her lips. Her 
brain was still inflamed with the memory of the past few hours, which was 
beginning to recede into a blur of many different positions, with Jeff and 

Harry and Ann. She knew that tomorrow, she would remember everything 
clearly, but tonight . . . it was getting late. 

"You see," she went on coyly, "I knew all about you and Ann!" 

"You k--knew?" Harry stammered, his face crimson. 

"Yes, Jeff told me," Sandy explained airily, "and that's why I let Jeff make 
love to me the first time, out of revenge!" 

"All this is my fault!" Harry castigated himself, "none of this would have 
happened if it wasn't for me!" 

"But are you sorry it did?" Sandy questioned, as she donned her frilly 
nightie. 

"Are you?" Harry returned wonderingly. 

"No, I'm not," Sandy said emphatically, slipping into bed beside her 
husband. "Whatever our motives, I've got nothing but good out of it. If it 
hadn't been for you being unfaithful in the first place, things wouldn't 
have happened the way they did with Jeff, and I would never be the happy, 
satisfied girl I am now!" 

"Are you . . . happy and satisfied?" Harry asked tentatively. 

"Yes, and mostly because we're friends again!" 

"I really love you, Sandy . . . I promise you it will never happen again!" 

"And I really love you Harry," Sandy sighed, snuggling close to him, "and 
now I can really show you that I do . . . that's what matters . . ." 

"Nothing will ever come between us again, Sandy, I promise you . . ." Harry 
murmured sleepily. 

"No, of course not, Harry . . ." Sandy whispered blissfully. She was content 
at last and she drifted off to sleep, her mind dwelling happily on the 
future with Harry . . . and tomorrow, with Jeff . . . and who knows after 
that. 


End
