Trucker's Girl
by Curt Aldrich
(STAG-216)


Her boss' eyes, which were like burning chunks of charcoal, surveyed her 
quivering, vulnerable beauty, from the narrow elastic band that encircled 
her waist.. . down across her panty-expanding buttocks . . . to the 
crescents of pale buttock that peeped out from beneath the lower elastic of 
her panties . . . then along her full, tapering thighs, which were bracketed 
by taut white garter straps, to the stretched tops of sheer, beige-toned 
stockings. 

He spanked her again, harder. 

And Teresa wondered as she squirmed across his knees if it was a good idea 
to settle for a spanking. 

It seemed to be getting out of hand.. . 


1 

"Hi! Did you have a good run?" 

She smiled up at him as he put his papers on her desk, and Joe Gresham 
thought he had never seen such a pretty girl in his life. That was quite a 
conclusion, because he had met-and made out with-a lot of women. 

It wasn't that the new clerk in the office of Farris Trucking had perfect 
features. She didn't. Her nose was not completely straight, her cheekbones 
were quite high, and her chin was a bit too short. But her eyes made up for 
those deficiencies. Warmly brown, they were wide-set, large, and soulful. 
They sparkled beautifully when she smiled. Yet they retained a certain 
aloofness, as if to tell men: I don't fool around! 

To Joe the message was not a turn-off but a challenge. He had never 
appreciated women who were easy. 

The new clerk, Teresa Mobley, had brown hair that tumbled down around her 
shoulders, loose and curly as it caressed her fair cheeks. Her figure was 
full at the top, as Joe liked them, trim at the middle, and with warmly 
rounded hip. 

"A guy can't have much fun just driving to La Mesa and back," Joe said in 
response to her question. He grinned, showing a white flash of teeth and a 
sparkle of blue eyes. Belying his twenty-five years, he had a boyish look, 
with a slightly pug nose, and shock of sandy hair, and an appealingly 
innocent expression. His long sideburns, however, lent a touch of maturity. 

"Hey, speaking of fun.. . " he added, "what do you do for good times?" 

"Now that my husband's away," Teresa said, "I mostly read." Joe's face fell. 
"You've got a husband." 

"Mm. He went to California to line up a job. As soon as he finds one, I'm 
going to join him." Joe stared at her. What she had said didn't ring true. 
Hadn't she just started with Farris? Why take a new job if she was about to 
leave town? 

But Joe didn't say anything. He merely gave her a smile, turned, and 
sauntered out of the small office. 

Teresa's eyes followed him. 

Five minutes later, he was refueling his tractor when she passed, walking 
down the line of parked rigs. He watched her hips undulate in her rather 
short, close-fitting skirt. She wasn't blatant about the way she moved them; 
still, they expressed a natural sensuousness which made Joe want to rub 
himself. Her nylon-sheathed legs were sleek and shapely. 

She stopped at the Kenworth which Buck Callahan drove and which was standing 
with its left door open. Stretching, she reached for a hand-hold to pull 
herself up onto the tractor's step. Joe shut off the gas he had been pumping 
and was about to offer assistance. But the sight of the girl's skirt lifting 
high on full thighs, deserting stocking tops which were held up by sexy 
garters, make him hesitate. He felt guilty as he stood and stared at her 
unconscious exposure of pale, smooth thighs. 

Buck rounded the rear of his rig and approached Teresa just as she leaned 
into the cab-to take a reading of his odometer for the company's records, 
Joe figured. 

Buck stood behind and below her, grinned, and took a reading of his own: 
Because of her elevated, bent forward position, he had a tantalizing view of 
her posy-printed, white minibriefs, which spanned and cuddled the rich 
curves of her bottom. 

Tossing a roguish wink at Joe, Buck placed his hands on her bare upper 
thighs and quickly ran them up underneath her skirt, onto her panties. She 
gasped, lost her balance, and fell down off the step of the tractor into 
Buck's ready arms. Her skirt was pulled embarrassingly up to her waist, and 
Buck caressed her silken-clad tummy. Then he wrapped both hands around the 
melon-sized bulges of her tits. 

Joe charged forward. There had never been any friendship between himself and 
Buck. The latter was a beefy, swaggering stud who bragged about his sexual 
conquests and made plain his total lack of respect for women. Joe had his 
fun, also, but he regarded sex as a two-way street, entitling females to 
equal pleasure and honest treatment. 

"Let go of her, God damn it!" Joe yelled. 

Buck whirled around. He had thick brown hair combed straight back, extending 
to the line of his collar. His fleshy face was adorned by straight, long 
sideburns. His eyes were squinty, and his mouth wore a perpetual sneer. 

"What's bugging you, Gresham?" he growled. "Want to feel her titties, too? 
Well, Teresa won't mind-will you, babe?" 

Her cheeks reddened, and she slapped Buck. 

"You slut!" he exclaimed. "No woman hits Buck Callahan and gets away with 
it!" 

Before Joe could intercede, the enraged trucker struck Teresa so brutally 
across the face that her legs gave way and she tumbled into the dirt. Joe 
waded into the larger, heavier man, swinging his fists. The pummeling blows 
to Buck's beer belly caved him in, and he sat down hard. He blinked, 
startled and physically hurt by the sudden vehemence of Joe's onslaught. 

"Well, shit!" Buck grumbled. "If you want her that bad, take her! She's sure 
as hell not worth fighting over." 

Joe turned to Teresa. She was still seated on the ground, somewhat stunned, 
her legs extended out in front of her and spread apart, her skirt fucked 
high above her gartered nylons. He reached and helped her to her feet. 

"Come on," he said. "I'm taking you home. It's almost quitting time, 
anyway." 

"But I have to get a reading of . . . " 

"Forget that," Joe said, and turned to the man who was picking himself off 
the ground. "Buck turn in your mileage to the office." 

Teresa looked up at Joe as he helped her along, and she felt protected for 
the first time since Ben had left. That was almost two months ago. It was 
wonderful how Joe had sprung to her aid, she thought. He was so manly . . . 
yet considerate. 

At the office, she excused herself and went to the John while Joe arranged 
with the boss for her to leave early. In the privacy of the ladies' room, 
she lifted her skirt and turned her back to the mirror. As she had 
suspected, her panties had gotten dust all over them when she had taken her 
tumble, and she slapped at her bouncy rear cheeks, knocking the dust off. 
She let her skirt drop, turned toward the mirror, and stared at her facial 
reflection. 

Revealing herself to her own intimate inspection, as she rarely revealed 
herself to anyone else, she read anxiety and frustration in her eyes. Her 
husband had been gone for nearly two months, and she hadn't heard a word 
from him. Moreover, she didn't know where he was. He could have been in Los 
Angeles, San Diego, or perhaps he wasn't in California at all, though he had 
said that was where he was going. She feared he was with another woman and 
that she might never see him again. 

Bravely she dabbed at her eyes and repaired her makeup. She pushed at her 
tumbling brown hair. 

When she returned to the office, a smile masked her feelings. 

"You really don't have to take me home," she told Joe. "I can walk. It's 
only a few blocks." 

"I'm going to drive you, and that's it," he replied. "I cleared it with 
Farris." 

They walked out. 

April was a perfect month in the Arizona desert, and they drove with both 
car windows open, the warm breeze tossing Teresa's hair about. She told Joe 
how to find the small, white-stucco apartment house where she lived. 

As they pulled up in front of it, she said on sudden impulse, "Would you 
like to come in for a beer?" 

"Lady, that's my weakness," Joe grinned. 

He followed her inside. 

As they sipped ice-cold beers in her living room, she felt much better. 

"I want to thank you," she said, "for protecting me from Buck." 

"He's bad news," Joe warned. "Stay away from him." 

Til try." She smiled. 

"This marriage of yours-is it working?" 

The sudden, direct question startled Teresa, and she didn't know what to 
say. 

"So it isn't working!" Joe concluded. "Honey, your husband must be crazy!" 

"Why do you say that?" 

"Because you're so beautiful-and special, too! You're finer than most 
girls." Joe's clear blue eyes seemed to confirm that he meant what he was 
saying. 

"I couldn't have been so fine for Ben," she looking down, "or he wouldn't 
have taken off." Joe moved over to the couch to sit beside her, and he took 
her hand in his. "Now, listen.. . don't blame yourself. Whatever happened 
wasn't your fault." 

"How can you be so sure?" she asked, raising her eyes, and it was as if a 
veil had been drawn across them. 

"Because I can tell." His voice roughened as he added passionately, "God, if 
only you weren't married!" 

Teresa bit her lip. Unfamiliar feelings stirred within her. Her nearness to 
Joe, the beer, and her loneliness and hurt combined to create a response 
which she hadn't felt since the early days of her marriage-before Ben had 
become neglectful, then had taken off. 

"I, uh, think you'd better go," she said nervously. 

"You're afraid, aren't you?" Joe replied. 

"Of your 

"Maybe of yourself." 

"Please. . . ! " 

It was only a murmur, but Joe took it as a cry for something he could give. 

He took her in his arms and crushed his mouth to her soft and succulent 
lips. Her mouth sprang open, and she clung to him. Suddenly he was licking 
deep into her mouth, and she squirmed, her tits tossing against his muscular 
torso. 

She heated with a suddenness and intensity that frightened her, and she 
pushed at Joe, finally forcing him to release her. She panted, her cheeks 
flushed. 

"You had no right!" she said, her eyes anguished. 

"Yes, I did," he maintained. "You need someone, and you know it. I don't 
care if you're married or not. Teresa, I want you!" 

"Noooooo.. . " 

Joe took one of her hands and placed it in his lap. She jumped as if she had 
felt a hot poker, but he wouldn't let her take her hand away. Instead, he 
curled her fingers around the long column in his trousers which was hard as 
iron, poking down his pantsleg. 

"That's how you affect me," he said huskily, "just from a kiss!" 

Joe moved her hand to the top of his fly, and she tremblingly unzipped him, 
then jerked her hand back. He caught her hand again and forced it into his 
pants. She found no underwear in the way, and her brain swam giddily as she 
fingered his hardness. She uttered a little cry. Finally, of her own accord, 
she pulled out Joe's eight-inch cock. 

He held her hand around the veined, hard-throbbing column which soared 
rigidly upward, the bulb at its end trying to break out of a circular lip of 
stretched foreskin. Tightening her fingers around his shank, he glided her 
hand down to his balls. His cockhead burst forth, big and pink moist with 
excitement, the rosy inner surface of his foreskin turning out to gather in 
ripples behind his ridged corona. 

"It's so big!" Teresa exclaimed. 'Bigger that Ben's." 

"Yessss!" 

"Bigger than anyone else's you've ever seen?" Joe was curious as to how 
extensive her experience had been. 

"I never saw . . . anyone else's . . . except Ben's," she replied, breathing 
hard. 

"You can play with it," Joe invited, and took his hand away. 

Teresa should have let go of him. She knew that. But she was mesmerized by 
the massive size and throbbing power of his prick. Her hand twisted on the 
mushroom-shaped top of it, as if she were trying to remove the cap from a 
jar. Then she glided circling fingers down Joe's rod and up again . . . down 
and up . . . rolling his foreskin onto and off of his bulging knob. 

He unfastened her blouse, reached inside, and spread it with the backs of 
his hands. His fingers and palms cupped her jam-packed bra, and he squeezed 
the resilient globes of flesh within. He reached around her, inside her 
blouse, and deftly opened the hooks of her brassiere. 

I mustn't let him do that! she thought. But she couldn't let go of his 
thick, beautiful prick. She had to keep pumping it. 

Joe lifted her slack bra from the gorgeous orbs on her chest, and he hefted 
the opulent beauties in his hands. Her nipples were richly pink, the disks 
around them paler and wide-spreading. Joe bent and licked a nipple, making 
her coo and squirm. 

She clutched his cock hard. 

"I can't!" she cried, and her throat sounded as if she were strangling. "I'm 
married!" 

"Just jack me off," Joe said, releasing her tits and raising his head. 

"What?" 

"Stroke my prick with your hand until I come." 

'That will satisfy you?" 

"Yes." 

Teresa was amazed. She had never had a man make such a request to her 
before. She had thought all they ever wanted to do was fuck. 

As she stroked Joe's cock heatedly, staring down at what she was doing, he 
tenderly toyed with her tits. His fingers did wild things to her nipples, 
rolling and plucking at them, making them throb. 

She jacked him off faster. 

He lifted her big shapely tits and let them drop with a bounce. He bounced 
them again. 

"Ooooh, God . . . wowwww . . . ooh, I'm so hot?' she cried as her hand 
fairly flew up and down on his high-standing, hard-throbbing cock. 

Suddenly he spurted white jism into the air, and his hand caught the blast. 
He caught the next one, as well. Then he rubbed the gooey substance all over 
his rosy, swollen cockhead while he gave several small, oozing spurts. 

"Got a Kleenex?" he asked. 

Teresa stood up and, trembling, walked to fetch a tissue. With her blouse 
open and her bra still up around her neck, her bare tits vibrated 
delightfully. She brought the Kleenex to Joe and watched him wipe himself. 
She brought a small wastebasket, and he dropped the sopped tissue into it. 

"You're really satisfied?" she asked. 

"For now," he said. "I didn't want to force anything. But you're not 
satisfied, are you?" 

"No," she admitted, then quickly added, "But it's all right. Things are 
better this way. I'm married, and I have to be faithful to Ben." 

Joe let his cock shrink back into his trousers and he zipped up. He drew 
Teresa back down to the sofa beside him. 

"You can relax and not worry," he said, pushing her skirt up. "I can't 
possibly make you now." 

She let him expose her thighs, above the tops of her stockings, as he pushed 
her skirt as far as her panties. 

"What are you going to dooo?" she asked, becoming more excited. 

"Treat you the way you treated me," he said. "It's fun, and you don't need 
to feel guilty." 

He stretched a leg elastic of her bikini briefs, glided his fingers 
underneath it, and felt the hair that lined her pussy. "Ooooooh!" she said. 

Joe worked her pussy lips apart, finding the inner ones very moist and 
suffused with passion. His fingertip tickled the head of her clitoris. 

Teresa bucked spastically and uttered an excited cry as she gripped his arm. 
Her tits jiggled. Her eyes were hot. 

Joe proceeded to rub the hard little lump of her clitty, and she bounced 
wilder, gasping and cooing. 

"Did your husband.. . ever do this?" he asked, circling his forefinger in 
her slick pussy while his thumb rubbed her clit-head. 

"No oh! Ooh, God! Just a little . . . but not like thaaat!" she cried, 
squirming and spasming. 

Joe's free hand gasped a tit and squeezed it as her other globe rested 
tremblingly on his arm. His thumb rubbed her nipple. He added a second 
finger to the frigging of her hot, juicy cunt, squeezing and stroking her 
clitoris at the same time. 

She was reduced to a mass of quivering protoplasm through which hot throbs 
of passion coursed. She bucked and writhed. She panted. She clawed at the 
man who was bedeviling her with wicked yet guilt-free pleasure. 

Suddenly her bubble of passion burst and she shook uncontrollably as he kept 
up his two-handed stimulation of her. Her moans turned to sighs, and she 
lapsed into blissful satiation. She felt better than she had in a long 
while. 

Joe wrapped her snugly in his arms and kissed her warm mouth. Then he got 
up. 

"You see-you don't have to be afraid of me," he said, "or afraid of yourself 
when you're with me. You can be just as faithful as you like." 

"B-but.. . " 

"I've gotta go now. See you in the morning, huh?" 

He walked out, leaving Teresa staring at the closed door, wondering if she 
had dreamed what had happened. It had been so strange and sudden . . . yet 
so wonderfully satisfying. No dream could have satisfied her like that! 

She pushed her skirt down, tried to stand, and found her legs too shaky. She 
sank back onto the couch. 

What a cock he has! she thought. Much bigger than Ben's! I'll bet he can use 
it better, too! Lots of times Ben couldn't make me climax. 

Oh God, why did I ever marry him? she thought. 

But I AM married, and I can't cheat! I didn't really cheat today, because I 
didn't let Joe put his beautiful cock inside me. But I thrilled and got a 
climax. I gave him a climax, too. 

She finally was able to get up, and when she began to walk she noticed that 
her panties were deplorably wet. Hurrying to the bedroom, she stripped the 
sopped panties off and snatched a fresh pair of white ones from a drawer. 

White for purity, she thought wryly. Oh you hypocrite! 

But I didn't really cheat on Ben! another voice still insisted. And what's 
more, I'm not going to! 

Aren't you? she argued with herself. Really? You dig Joe. You dig him a lot. 
And when he gets in here next time, he won't be satisfied with-what do they 
call it?-a "hand job," despite what he said. Then what are you going to do, 
hmmmmm? 

She would have to think long and hard about that.. . . 

 2 

Riding high in the cab of his Peterbilt, taking the instant bump-bump-bump 
vibration which a trucker feels, Joe experienced a common response: His cock 
got hard in his jeans. 

Up ahead at a cafe there was a girl named Marybelle. She had magnificent 
tits-larger than Teresa's, even. And she had a pussy that was always warm 
and ready. Joe wanted her, and yet he didn't want her. He ad been thinking 
about Teresa most of last night and this morning. If he had gone ahead and 
forced himself on her, he might have gotten her out of his system, he 
thought. But he had teased both herself and him, thinking it was right to go 
slowly until she was ready to accept him. Now he was badly hung up. 

He wondered how Teresa felt. This morning she had scarcely looked at him 
when he had picked up his papers. When he stepped to her desk and said "good 
morning," she had smiled and blushed . . . then had looked quickly away. 

Damn! 

Maybe she had gotten the notion that he was an oddball or something, when he 
had only been trying to be nice. Shit! Maybe Buck had the right idea: Fuck 
'em and forget 'em! 

Joe wheeled his rig onto the large graveled lot next to Dolly's Diner, one 
of the main truck stops on the run between Phoenix and Yuma. He wasn't sure 
what he was going to do about Marybelle, who worked there, but he guessed he 
would play it by ear. That was how he usually did things. 

He opened the screen door and walked into the place, which throbbed with 
country music pouring from the jukebox, punctuated by the clank of dishes 
and bursts of male laughter from the long counter and the tables at the 
side. 

Joe walked to the counter, swung a leg over a stool, and sat. Marybelle 
approached him, smiling, her white uniform unbuttoned low, as usual, showing 
lots of honey-toned, divided titflesh that quivered. 

"Well what'll you have man?" she asked, leaning on the counter to show Joe 
even more. 

He suddenly knew what he wanted. "I'll have you and a beer in the back room, 
honey," he said, only loud enough for her to hear. 

"Myyyy, we must be horny today!" she purred. 

"Can you take a few minutes off." 

Marybelle shrugged, causing an earthquake. "You know Dolly. She's very 
liberal-minded." 

Marybelle brought him the beer, then turned to talk with the 
platinum-haired, heavyset female who ran the place. Dolly looked out from 
the serving window and said, "Hi ya, Joe!" 

Marybelle returned. "She says to make it snappy. We're one girl short 
today." 

Joe took his beer from the counter, walked to the end and around it where 
there was a door leading to the restrooms and to a special room farther 
back. He went to that room and walked in. After a minute, Marybelle joined 
him. 

She was easy-going and kind of sweet for a hooker. She only hooked when she 
felt like it and only with men who appealed to her, Joe believed. She never 
named a price, but she took what he gave her, more slut than whore, really. 
Still, the bedroom was maintained for a purpose, and Dolly no doubt got her 
cut. 

To look at Marybelle, you would think she was just a fun-loving girl-21 
years old, a brunette who wore hair in a swirl, tall, buxom, with a short 
nose, smiley lips, and soft brown eyes. 

Joe drained his bottle of beer as she unbuttoned her uniform all the way 
down. She stepped out of it, her shoved-up jugs quivering in a low-cut, 
under-wired white bra. White nylon panties sheathed her generous hips and 
buttocks. Her full thighs and trim lower legs were bare. 

Joe's cock rose to push against his pants. 

Marybelle looked at him as she unhooked her bra and took it away. Her 44's 
hung invitingly, the rosy bumps of her nipples surrounded by neat circles of 
pebbled flesh. 

Joe whipped his pants down, and his cock stood rigidly erect. 

"Ooooh, shit . . . ! " Marybelle murmured, appreciatively, and sank to her 
knees in front of him. 

He got a happy thrill, because he knew she was extra-hot today. He wouldn't 
have to pay her a dime if he didn't want to. 

Her girlish hand surrounded his stalk and glided his foreskin back. She bent 
and kissed the rosy knob of his pecker. Then, with a little groan, she 
opened her mouth and took his cockhead in. She let her pretty eyes fall 
shut, and she sucked him with liquid warmth. 

He looked down at her and tried to visualize Teresa. 

I'll bet she's never had a cock in her mouth, he thought. 

His shaft twitched between Marybelle's stretched, gliding lips, and she shot 
a glance up at him. Then she drew back and let his prick spring free, 
bobbing stiffly as it gleamed with her saliva. 

"You felt like you were getting ready to come!" she said. 

"Are you kidding?" Joe grinned down. "When did I ever short you?" 

"Well, there's always a first time.. . maybe," she purred, rising to her 
feet and snuggling against him, forcing his wet cock straight up between 
their bellies. 

They kissed with nipping lips at first, then with dueling tongues that 
worked in the open, after which their mouths caught and clung. Joe filled 
his hands with the panty-clad mounds of her pliant, man-pleasing ass. 

They sank to the bed. Joe still had his t-shirt on, and she wore her 
panties. 

Lying on their sides, facing each other, he used his free hand to squeeze 
her voluptuous tits. She fingered his long, hard cock lovingly. 

"Joe . . . why don't we get married?" she murmured. 

He looked her in the eyes and saw that she wasn't kidding. "Because . . . " 

"I know, you prick!" she said lightly. "You're not the marrying kind." 

"Something like that." 

"But you could come home to me every night. I wouldn't work. I'd never look 
at another guy." 

"Really?" 

"Really! Ooooh, you've got such a scrumptious cock!" 

She wiggled down on him and commenced sucking it again, her tits vibrating 
against his body as she heatedly pumped her head. 

I could sure do worse! he thought. 

Again his mind turned to Teresa. 

It was her don't-touch-me innocence, though she was married, that made him 
so hot for her. He had found out yesterday that she wasn't cold, either. She 
would be a beautiful lay, he believed. 

Marybelle wasn't chopped liver, but she'd been around too much. If he ever 
did get married, it would have to be with someone more exclusive than that. 

She rose, kneeling parallel to Joe's body, and pointed his prick straight up 
so that she could mouth him more effectively. She all but gargled on his 
cock as her lips drove lower and lower. 

Joe grasped the quivery cheeks in her silk panties and pushed forward, 
forcing her to let go of his dick. 

Knowing what he wanted, because he had made his preferences clear to her 
before, she pressed her large knockers against the bed and kept her hips 
high. He knelt behind her. 

Peeling the panties down off her rump revealed the deep division between her 
plump asscheeks and the slitted, hairy bun between her thighs. Joe tugged 
her panties out from under her knees, stretching them, and pulled them from 
her feet. She spread her knees apart and made her back concave, forcing her 
bottom even higher and making her love-zone more accessible. 

The rosy-lipped division was set, and not from the artificial cream most 
hookers used. Marybelle had creamed her pussy while sucking Joe's cock. 

He held his lance in his fist and moved up. He parted her slit with it, 
settled himself, and pushed, sinking deeply into the girl's wet, warm 
love-canal. 

"Ooooh . . . wowwww . . . yesssss . . . ! " she groaned and hissed, grinding 
round and round and bumping. 

Joe knelt straight up and watched her ass rotate as he pumped straight and 
strong, but not too fast. Reaching underneath her belly and backward into 
her nest, he fingered the hair-rimmed orifice into which his piston was 
driving. Then he sought out her clit, which was buried in damp little folds 
of flesh. He stroked and tweaked that love-bump as they screwed. 

Marybelle became deliciously obscene: 

"Ooooh, Daddycock, I hive it! Drive it-mmmmmm-to me, Daddy! Yesssss! Keep 
your finger there, too! Ooooh, you really know how to do it! Mmmmmmmm! Dick 
me . . . fuck meeeee! Now . . . faaaaast!" 

Her ass began bobbing choppily, and Joe pounded his prick home. Her buttocks 
shook as his firm belly noisily slapped them. The old bed creaked and 
rattled against the wood floor. 

Joe fucked faster and faster. His eyes rolled back, and his horny cock 
throbbed in the wet sleeve of clutching, bobbing girl-flesh. He pinched 
Marybelle's clitty hard. 

He thought about Teresa as he rammed deep, quivering and spurting sperm, and 
he felt Marybelle climax heatedly around him. 

Though satisfied physically, he was mentally ill at ease as he pulled out. 
He rolled onto his back, and Marybelle was all over him, panting as she 
kissed down along his body, licking up some spilled juice, then sucking his 
softened tool and making it clean. 

He put some money in her hand just before he left, and she told him, "Think 
about what I said, hmmm?" 

He just grinned. 

In his rig once more, jiggling along the road toward Yuma, he was in a 
thoughtful mood. But he wasn't considering Marybelle's offer. His thoughts 
were full of Teresa.. . . 

3 

"Good night, Mr. Farris," she said to the bearded and mustached owner of the 
truck line and prepared to leave the office. Then she stopped and turned 
back. Farris was watching her, A speculative expression on his worldly, 
middle-aged face. "Uuh, Joe didn't come back." 

"I know. He called me from Yuma. Trouble with his rig." 

"I see." 

She left the office, relieved that Joe had not been hurt or something, but 
still disappointed that she hadn't seen him. Her panties were noticeably 
damp as she walked out. 

She had thought about Joe for most of the day, in ways that she had never 
thought about a man before-even Ben when they were first married. She kept 
visualizing Joe's cock, remembering how it had felt in her hand . . . how it 
had spurted when he had come off. She tingled at the recollection of his 
dancing, circling finger in her pussy. 

Walking down past the row of parked tractors, she didn't notice Buck fooling 
around his rig. 

"Hey, Teresa! Wait a minute!" 

She stopped and looked at the husky man, who wiped his hands on a rag as he 
swaggered toward her. He wore his usual smirk. 

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he said. "I was just kidding." 

"I don't like to kid that way," Teresa frostily replied. 

"You're right. I should've known you were a lady." 

"Well, good night," she said, and turned to continue on her way. 

"Can I prove I'm not such a bad guy by driving you home?" he asked, hurrying 
after her. "My van's right there." 

Teresa glanced at the luridly painted wagon and replied, "No, thank you. 
It's just a short walk." 

"Hey now, that's no way to act. Why can't we make up? I'd like to be your 
friend." 

"Well.. . " She didn't want to be hard-nosed about it, because she did have 
to see him every day. "All right," she relented. 

The walked to the van and got in. He headed it off the lot and down the 
street. 

"Turn left at the next corner," she told him. 

"I'd like to show you a little of the countryside," he said. "It's a nice 
evening." 

"But I really have to get home." 

"Got a date?" Buck threw her a rakish grin. 

"No." 

"Then, what's the rush?" 

Teresa felt uneasy. Sill, she didn't want to have more trouble with the 
pushy trucker. Surely he wouldn't try anything funny, now that he had found 
out she wouldn't go for it, she believed. 

She let him continue on down the street, which became a highway and threaded 
into the hills. It urns pleasant, with the sun hanging low in the sky, the 
desert air fresh and clear, carrying the scent of sage. 

Buck turned onto a side road. 

"Just, uh, where are we going?" Teresa asked. 

"No place special. Isn't it pretty here?" 

Teresa looked around at the hills, which were sprinkled with wild flowers. 
There were no houses to be seen and no other cars on the road. 

"Maybe we'd better turn back," she said. 

"In just a few minutes." 

When they came to a turn-off, Buck slowed and cut right. But he didn't stop 
and back around. Instead, he continued on a narrow dirt road that wound 
higher into the hills. 

"We're getting farther away from town!" Teresa protested. 

"Yeah. Too far for you to walk back now." Buck's voice had turned nasty. 

"Take me home!" Teresa demanded, her eyes flashing. 

"Not until you put out." 

"What?" 

"Put out! Fuck! Screw! Baby you're no innocent little virgin. I found out 
you've got a husband who ran out on you. You must be hurtin'. So, why fight 
it, huh?" 

Buck pulled off the road into the desert and stopped the van. 

"Do you realize you're talking about rape?" Teresa asked, her pulse pounding 
with fear. 

"Rape.. . shit!" Buck said. "You're gonna give it to me!" 

He reached for her, and she wriggled free, opening the door. She almost fell 
as she leaped down from the van. She began to run, threading her way between 
clumps of sagebrush. 

She didn't know where she was going or how she could get anywhere at all. 
She just had to get away from Buck! As she heard his boots pounding behind 
her, she cast a frightened glance over her shoulder, tripped on a small 
bush, and plunged headlong into the dirt. 

She moaned as the rapacious trucker leaped astride her. The fall had made 
her woozy. She hurt. Buck pinned her down as he sat on her buttocks. 

"Oooh . . . pleeeeease!" she begged pitifully. 

"Put out, baby!" Buck said. "You slapped me yesterday, and I said you 
wouldn't get away with that!" 

"I'll tell Joe!" 

"Fuck Joe!" 

"Ooooh!" she moaned again. 

Getting some of her strength back, she scrambled forward and managed to rise 
to her feet. Buck lunged after her, grasping a handful of skirt. She tumbled 
once more, her skirt ripping. She struggled out of it and took off again, 
her buttocks wriggling in pink panties. Her blouse flapped loose at her 
hips. Her bare thighs flashed above gartered stockings. 

Again Buck took after her. She moaned and whimpered as she ran as fast as 
she could. The trucker's clawing hand caught her blouse, and that stopped 
her for a moment until, wriggling and pressing forward, she broke free. Buck 
held her blouse as she ran in her undies across the desert. 

He gained on her again. She heard him laughing. 

It seemed to be a big joke to him. He was stripping her, piece by piece, 
leaving a trail of torn clothes behind them. 

He grabbed at her bra strap, not even trying to catch her this time but only 
wanting to pull her bra off. He managed to break the hooks. She turned and 
clawed at him, trying to keep him from removing the flimsy garment, but he 
yanked it away. 

All she could do was resume running, her tits swinging and bouncing as she 
gasped for breath. She felt herself slowing down. Her legs ached. Buck 
reached around her, grasped her by the titties, and pulled her back against 
the hard-on that bulged his pants. 

She panted and cried miserably. 

Buck tripped her, dropping her onto her ass in the dust, her 
stocking-sheathed legs flying up. The dirt ground into her panties. 

She knew she was as good as raped. She couldn't run any farther. 

Grinning nastily, his eyes afire with lust, Buck bent and grasped her 
kicking legs, pulling them far apart and holding them in the air. All she 
could do was flop and squirm shamefully on her back, getting her hair dirty, 
while the horrible man gazed at the thin strip of pink nylon that passed 
between her thighs, pulling this way and that as she writhed, revealing 
hairs and the pouting outer lips of her pussy. 

"I'll tell the police!" she shrieked. 

"No, you won't!" Buck said confidently. "You came with me of your own 
accord. We work together. Nobody'll believe you didn't lead me on!" 

He was right, she realized sickly. There would be nothing she could do. 

She stopped struggling and shamefully let Buck feast his eyes on her 
near-nakedness as his jeans stretched forward, fit to burst. He dropped her 
legs in the dirt. 

"Can we . . . " she sniffled, "at least get back into your van." 

"You'll be nice." 

"Yes . . . damn you!" 

"That don't sound so nice," Buck said. "I think you need a lesson . . . like 
gettin' screwed in the dirt!" 

He grabbed at his belt, jerked it open, and shoved his pants down. Like Joe, 
he didn't wear underwear, and his cock stuck out-stubby and strange-looking 
(to Tersa, who hadn't seen many). His prick curved upward at the end, like a 
hook. It was circumcised, also, and it didn't stand as high as Joe's nor was 
it nearly as long. Teresa hated it, as she hated the man to whom it was 
attached. 

"Pleeease.. . ooh, don't doooo this!" she moaned. 

"Shut up!" Buck snapped, and dropped to his knees. He leaned forward and 
mauled Teresa's tits. 

She whimpered and squirmed, hating the man's touch. But her nipples didn't. 
They enlarged and hardened as he twiddled them. Then, as he clamped his 
sucking mouth around one, it throbbed in the bath of his saliva. 

His hand was between her thighs, plucking at the crotch of her panties. His 
finger found her, jamming into her soggy cunt. 

"You're wet as a pig!" he said, and pumped his finger in and out of her hole 
as she squirmed in abject humiliation. 

He pulled her panties off and sailed them away. They caught on a cactus. He 
spread her outer cuntlips with his thumbs and gazed at her pink, glistening 
center. Her inner cuntlips stood forward, slightly parted, and it was 
obvious that she was very excited. Buck grinned. 

Teresa didn't think she was aroused. Her rapid heartbeat and hot feeling 
came from fear and revulsion, she believed. Intense embarrassment was added 
to it as Buck stared right at her open cunt. She throbbed from head to toes. 

The awful man crawled forward, topping her. She shut her eyes. Her temples 
pounded. She could feel blood pulsating in her neck, and her cunt got 
wetter. 

Buck nudged it with his hood-ended prick. She gasped. As he split the portal 
of her pussy and drove his short cock up her slippery sheath, she squealed. 
She was very tight, from having had no action for two months, and, despite 
the juice which she had shamefully exuded, the man's sudden, forceful 
incursion hurt. 

"God damn, you've got a tight one!" he growled, and began pumping fiercely, 
shaking her body and making her tits leap up and down. 

She kept her eyes shut and moaned miserably as the man stayed on straight 
arms and stared down at her. His shaft was not rubbing her clit firmly, so 
she didn't feel much at that hot spot. But inside, the wickedly hooked snout 
of his prick was plowing her, exciting the endings of nerves deep within her 
snatch. Despite herself, she began to feel passion. 

Leaning on one arm, Buck mauled a titty with his free hand. He pulled on her 
nipple and snapped it back. Hot prickles of sensation scorched her. She 
began to bob her belly against Buck's thrusts. 

She hated herself for responding, as much as she hated him. But she couldn't 
help herself. It had been so long since she'd had a cock inside her! 

Suddenly she realized that she wasn't protected by the pill. She had stopped 
taking them when Ben had left. 

"Oooh, God . . . I'll have a bay-beeeeee!" she bawled. 

"Aren't you on the fuckin' pill?" Buck demanded. "Nooooooh!" 

"Well, shit!" he said, and pulled out just in time. 

His prick jerked up and down, spurting jism. The first shot went over 
Teresa's head. The next one hit her in the face, and she sputtered. The 
third and fourth were short, arcing above her belly and dropping down. The 
last one oozed from Buck's stem and dangled there. 

Theresa's whole body pulsated, wildly hot and unsatisfied. Besides that, she 
felt miserably soiled. She strongly smelled Buck's musky semen which had 
landed on her cheek. 

She shut her eyes and sobbed. 

Buck got to his feet, milked his penis and shook the semen off his hand. He 
pulled his pants up. 

"Oooh, please . . . oooooh . . . ! " Teresa said. 

"What's the matter with you now?" 

"Use your finger on me!" she begged shamefully. 

"Huh?" 

"I need it! Oooh God, I can't staaaand it!" 

Buck got down and stuck his finger into her slippery quim. She gave a harsh 
groan and began bumping. Buck frigged her faster. Her tits leaped, and she 
grasped them to still them, then began twisting and tugging at her nipples. 
She licked her open mouth. She moaned. 

The trucker stared down, shocked and mesmerized by her amazing passion as he 
brought her to a climax with his hand. She yelped, and her pussy pulsated 
around his plunging fingers. (He had stuck two into her by that time.) She 
cooed and lapsed motionless in the dirt. 

"You're some hot baby, all right!" Buck said. "Get onto that pill!" 

"What are you talking about?" she retorted bitterly. "You'll never have me 
again." 

"Aaw, come on now. You really dug it." 

"Go to hell!" 

Buck got up and snorted. "You're crazy, that's what you are!" 

"Just shut up!" 

"Want your pants?" 

"Yessss," she hissed softly. 

"They're on that cactus over there." Buck chuckled. 

Teresa sat up and stared. "Ooh, they're probably all full of prickles!" 

Buck swaggered over, snatched her pink pants off the thorny bush, and held 
them up, stretching them open. "Yeah, they got a few stickers in 'en," he 
said, and carried them back to where she still sat on the ground. He tossed 
the panties to her. 

She miserably picked the cactus thorns out of them. 

"I hate you!" she whimpered. 

"It's your own fault that you got roughed up." 

She stood, brushed off her backside, and pulled her panties on. She was 
still sniffling. 

"Where are my other clothes?" she asked plaintively. 

"They're all ripped." 

"Well, I can't go home in just my panties!" She and Buck walked toward the 
van, picking up her torn clothes on the way. She got into them and held them 
together as best she could. She knew that her hair was mussed and her face 
was dirty. 

"I never thought I'd be raped!" she said. 

"Quit feeling sorry for yourself," Buck advised. 

They climbed into the van, and he drove her home. 

"Better think several times before you tell anybody about this," he said 
just before she got out. "You're the one that'll get hurt." 

She realized he was right as she hurried to her apartment, grateful that at 
least no one saw her. She realized something else as she showered the grime 
and scum from her body: 

She needed a steady man! 

4 

"Joe!" Teresa exclaimed when he walked into the office the next day. "I was 
worried about you!" 

He seemed surprised.. . and pleasantly so. Grinning, he ambled over to her 
desk. 

"The rig broke down just outside Yuma," he said. "I needed a part that they 
didn't have in town, and they had to get it from L. A. That was the 
hang-up." Joe sat down next to the pretty girl's desk. "You sound as if you 
might've missed me," he added more softly, looking into her eyes. 

"I did," she admitted, seeing no point in playing coy. 

"Well, we'd better make up for that by seeing each other tonight." 

"That sounds good," she told him, and their eyes communed for long moments. 

Arnold Farris emerged from his private office and said, "Okay, Gresham.. . 
grab your papers and get rolling! You're already running late today." 

Because the boss was standing there, Joe and Teresa couldn't complete their 
arrangements for the date. But the wink he gave her just before he took off 
let her know that the date was definitely on. 

"You like that guy, don't you?" Farris commented after Joe had left. 

Teresa blushed. "Well, yes. He seems like a . . . very nice fellow." 

"He's hell with women." 

"What?" 

"He loves 'em and leaves 'em, like most of these diesel jocks." 

"Oh. Well, I'm sure I don't care about that," Teresa said as she turned back 
to her work. But her pulse was pounding. 

Throughout the day, her mind was in turmoil: She was married, but Ben 
obviously had deserted her. That meant she wasn't really bound to him, in a 
sense. Yet their marriage was still in effect. And what about Joe? Was he 
really just a ladies' man who couldn't be trusted, or was he sincere? 

As the hour grew late, her concern centered more upon the question of 
whether Joe would be backwhether she would see him before the day was over. 

He breezed in j ust before quitting time and tossed his papers onto her 
desk. 

"Well?" he said, grinning. 

"You just barely made it!" Teresa exclaimed, unable to conceal her pleasure 
that he had returned while she was still there. 

"How about some drinks and dinner?" he asked as he leaned close to her. 

"All right." 

"There's just one problem, though-I'm dirty as a pig and I don't want to 
waste the time to go to my place." 

"Oh?" 

"So if I could take a shower at your apartment . . . " he continued softly 
so that just the two of them could hear. 

"I suppose," she said, blushing a little. 

"Great! I've got a change of clothes in my car." 

Teresa swallowed hard. He was a fast mover, she concluded. Maybe Mr. Farris 
had him pegged right. 

Did she care? 

They left the office together, and he drove to her place. As soon as they 
were in her apartment, he put down the small bag he had brought from the 
trunk of his car and whipped off his t-shirt. 

Til just be a minute," he said, heading for the bathroom. 

He didn't shut the door, and Teresa blushed when she heard the horse-like 
stream of his urine striking the water in the toilet bowl. He flushed. The 
rushing sound of the water in the John soon merged with that of the shower. 

Teresa felt nervous and itchy with the bathroom door open, realizing that 
Joe stood naked in the tub with only a plastic curtain separating them. 

Is his cock standing up? she wondered, and blushed stronger. 

Suddenly the shower stopped, and she tensed as she knew he was about to step 
out. She turned away from the bathroom door. 

Joe hummed while he toweled himself. The humming drew nearer. 

"Ah, it sure feels better to get rid of all that sweat and dust!" he said. 

Teresa turned to look at him, assuming that he had the towel wrapped around 
his middle. Instead, he was nude. 

She stared, her cheeks rosy. He grinned back at her, seemingly not bashful 
in the least. Even in repose, his penis was impressive. 

"Do you.. . uh.. . uh.. . would you, that is, like a beer?" she bumbled. 

"Sure." 

Teresa gratefully turned and hurried to the kitchen. She was dismayed to 
hear Joe's bare feet padding along behind her. 

"I . . . guess I'm not used to casual nudity," she said, trembling a bit as 
she removed two bottles of beer from the fridge. 

"There's nothing bad about it, near as I can see," Joe said, and took the 
beer she handed him. 

As he twisted the cap from the chilly bottle and tilted it to his lips, she 
had to fight an urge to stare at his cock and balls. She opened her own beer 
awkwardly. 

"You know, I've got an idea," Joe said, as he strolled back to the living 
room. Teresa looked at his compact, firm buttocks which had little hair on 
them. 

"Wh-what's that?" 

He flopped into a chair, hooking a leg over the chair's upholstered arm. 
That exposed his cock and balls even more blatantly. "Why don't we sort of 
get better acquainted right now, then go out later? That way, we'll avoid 
the dinner crowd. I know a nice little Italian place that's open late." 

"No!" Teresa snapped, glaring at him. 

He squinted quizzically. "What's the matter?" 

"Just who do you think you are-strutting around here without clothes on, 
talking about getting better acquainted? Aren't you taking a lot for 
granted?" 

"I didn't figure I was-after the other night." 

"The other night was an accident." 

"Shit!" Joe derided. "Get out!" 

He slowly set down the half-empty beer bottle. "Do you really mean that?" he 
asked seriously. 

Teresa felt a twinge of panic. She had goofed things, she realized. But she 
hated to be taken for granted. She felt that a guy should play up to a woman 
a little. 

She bit her lip. 

Joe grinned. "Come here." 

She moved uncertainly toward his chair. He grabbed her by a hand and yanked 
her down to a sitting position across his naked thighs. She stared at him. 

He kissed her crushingly on the mouth, working her sweet lips open and 
plunging his tongue inside. He took hold of a titty and began to squeeze it 
through her dress and brassiere. 

She melted, reaching to caress his blond, wavy hair, and she returned his 
passionate kiss, her own tongue fluttering and gliding. Her tits throbbed as 
he played with them. Moisture broke through the hairy lips of her vulva. 

When Joe's cock rose to press against her clothed bottom, she was ready to 
go to bed with him. He picked her up and carried her, and she could feel his 
erection bumping her bottom. 

When he put her down onto the bed, she stared at it. 

"God, what a thing!" she said in simple awe. 

Joe clutched his club-like appendage which was highly elevated, and he 
waggled it to and fro, grinning. "You like it, huh?" he asked, as if amused. 

"I just can't get over how big it is," she said. 

Joe moved along the bed until he stood next to her face, his prick 
projecting toward and angling above her. "Get used to it," he suggested, "so 
it doesn't scare you." 

She reached up and took hold of his shaft. It seemed hard as iron, with a 
thin skin over it. But it was warm, and she felt blood pounding in its 
visible veins. She rolled back the foreskin, and Joe's freshly cleansed bulb 
swelled. 

"Want to kiss it?" he asked casually. 

Teresa jerked her hand away, making his eight-inch erection bob. "No!" she 
exclaimed, shocked. 

Joe's eyes twinkled as he looked down at her. "You've never done that?" 

"Of course not!" 

"You will some day. Why not now." 

"I never will!" 

Joe knelt on the bed and pushed her skirt up. "Please.. . ! " she said, 
writhing and resisting his hand. 

He stopped and looked at her. "What's the matter now?" 

"Maybe I'm just not in the mood." 

"Well, I am!" he announced firmly. "And I'm not gonna let you turn back 
now." 

He spread her legs apart and dived between them . . . head first. 

Shocked, Teresa writhed and tried to push him away. But she could accomplish 
nothing, and his licking of her inner right thigh, above her stretched 
stocking top, turned her on. 

She gasped and let out little whimpers. Heat surged through her, once more 
melting her resistance. The tension went out of her legs, and Joe easily 
moved them wider apart. 

He browsed on her satiny-smooth, firm inner thighs. He lifted one leg and 
licked the back of her thigh, along a garter. 

"Ooooooh!" she breathed. 

Her heart palpitated. Her panties were shamefully wet. 

Ben had never made love to her this way, and it opened a new vista of 
enjoyment. But she was apprehensive, also. How far did Joe intend to go? His 
talk about her kissing his cock made her wonder about his standards, if he 
had any. 

He licked to the narrow lace fringe of her floral-printed panties and along 
them, his nose brushing the sleek nylon. 

She had bathed that morning but, after putting in a busy day at work, she 
was anxious about how fresh she smelled. 

"Please.. . ! " she said, and tried to get Joe's head up. 

He resisted the effort, and she didn't have the strength to persist with it. 
Her brain went into a giddy swoon as he began to pull her panties down, and 
her head dropped back against the bed. 

Joe appreciatively eyed the gush of thick dark curls that appeared as he 
lowered her panties, then the puffiness of pussylips, nearly hidden beneath 
the foliage. He pulled her panties all the way down her legs and off. 

Oh God, this is it! she thought. Fm giving myself to a man Fm not married 
to! But after Buck's raping me yesterday, what does it matter? 

Joe spread her legs once more, tilting her knees up, and she was all there 
for him to admire. The trail of hair that extended down from her triangle 
split to run along each side of her inviting pussy. Because of the 
widespread elevation of her thighs, and due also to her excitement, her 
outer labia had parted, exposing the ragged, flared edges of her pink inner 
lips. Juice dribbled along her folds. 

Grinning in anticipation, Joe moved closer. 

Teresa wondered wildly, Is he really going to. . . ? 

OH.. . GOD, YES! 

Her belly bumped uncontrollably, smearing her wet cunt against his mouth as 
he kissed and noisily sucked it. His tongue speared into the juicy feast she 
offered, and he lapped greedily. 

Her pussy throbbed so intensely that she felt about to come, and she moaned, 
bumping and squirming. 

If Joe was at all offended by her scent or taste, he gave no sign of it. In 
fact, he seemed to enjoy himself immensely as he licked in and out of her 
hot, slippery hole and up across her wildly tingling clit. 

When she grasped his tousled head to hold him against that hot spot, he 
jerked free and raised his wet face, panting. 

Teresa writhed in agonized frustration. She had been so close to a climax, 
and now was being allowed to hang there! 

Joe quickly twisted around, and she wondered dimly what he was doing. When 
he threw a leg across over her head and knelt above her face, bending 
forward, she knew what he had in mind. He wanted her to make nasty oral love 
to him while he.. . 

YES! OOH, SWEET GOD, HE WAS DOING IT AGAIN! 

As his tongue scurried lightly along her wet pussy-petals, flogging and 
wiggling them, licking the orifice of her channel, then briefly touching her 
clit, Teresa lost all control. She reached up and grasped his big cock, 
which hung cantilevered above her face, and she yanked it down to poke it 
into her mouth. Her senses swirled wildly as she sucked his spongy pink 
bulb, finding that it had only a faint, tangy taste and no unpleasant scent. 
But the idea of sucking on it-and the throbbing firmness of his thick shaft 
between her lips drove her wild. 

What Joe did to her pussy heightened her excitement to fever pitch, and she 
bumped her lower region while alternately lunging her head at his 
downward-pointing projectile, taking more and more of his manly shaft into 
her mouth. She was amazed by her own action as passion swept her toward a 
release. 

She came, bumping her belly and glugging on Joe's mouth-filling prick, and 
then she got another surprise-her orgasm was just a flash that passed 
quickly, leaving her less than fully satisfied. She needed more! 

Joe pulled his cock from her mouth and turned quickly around to kneel 
between her thighs. 

"Yessss-ooh God, give it to meeeee!" she cried, looking at his elevated 
prong, which was wet with her glistening saliva. He bore down and into her, 
twisting and penetrating, stuffing her small pussy with the throbbing 
thickness of his slippery pole. Her eyes fell short, and she wriggled around 
his cock. She lifted her stocking-clad legs into the air and kicked them. 

Deeper and deeper into her Joe plunged, and the feeling was much more 
wonderful than with Buck or even Ben. But she became frightened, because 
there seemed no end to Joe's lengthy rod. How deep was it going to go? 

Joe stopped just before touching bottom, and he slowly withdrew until his 
horny, wide ridge was lodged in the ring of her cunt mouth. Down and deeply 
into her he plunged again, sinking even farther this time. 

"Oooooooh!" Teresa moaned, feeling like a bug on a pin as she squirmed to 
try to save herself. 

But miraculously her pussy stretched and she found that the deeper Joe 
plunged, the more of him she could take, until finally she knew she had him 
all, because his testicles tumbled against her anus. She felt marvelously 
plugged. Thoroughly possessed. Jam-packed with his pulsating male power! 

He began a rhythmic stroking, and she brought her feet down against the bed. 
She pumped with him. 

They were fucking, really fucking! And she loved it! 

She raised her legs to wrap around Joe. Her arms hugged him, also. She clung 
lovingly to his muscular, nude form and snapped her hips as he pumped thrust 
after thrust of prick-power into her long-deprived body. Working close 
together, as they were, his hard shaft rubbed her clit exactly right, and 
she took off from the plateau she had previously ascended to seek greater 
and more giddy heights. 

He was tireless. His prick seemed to get stonier and, if possible, bigger 
with every thrust. His hips maintained a steady rocking rhythm, fucking in 
and fucking out . . . in . . . out . . . plunging . . . withdrawing. 

"Uuuuh . . . oooooh! I'm CUMMMM-innnng!" Teresa cried. 

Her pussy convulsed around Joe's poking member, her circular muscles milking 
at him as if to bring him along. But he refused to be triggered, and he kept 
stroking . . . 

Teresa gurgled and writhed. She gasped. New passion gripped her, and she 
resumed feverish fucking. 

Their bodies crashed together, slapping fleshly. The super-lubricated, 
gliding union of cock and cunt made slurpy sounds. Teresa sweat in her 
clothes while Joe wallowed nude atop her. 

As her motions quickened again and grew jerky as she caught her breath 
raggedly and approached an unbelievable third climax since their sex had 
started-Joe shifted gears and briskly jazzed her, driving his piston-prick 
for all it was worth. 

"OOOOOOOOH!" she fairly howled. 

Her hips hammered wildly. 

She gasped, then squealed. When she climaxed this time, it was like a cosmic 
explosion of blinding light and heat. Into the center of it, her lover 
spurted, like the spitting, sizzling tail of a fireball. 

They knew perfect ecstasy . . . then total relaxation and peace. 

"Oooh, nooooh . . . God . . . that was . . . wonderfullll!" Teresa sighed 
raspily. 

Joe kissed and sucked at her mouth. He petted her tangled hair. He kissed 
her eyelids, then nibbled at her pouty, moist-red lips. 

"I love you!" he said, and her eyes popped open. 

"I really love you!" he repeated fervently. 

Teresa, looking into his clear blue eyes, could not doubt his sincerity. 

"Oooh, darling, I love you, too!" she told him. 

They kissed, their tongues circling and stroking. 

She had forgotten Ben utterly as she clung to her new man and thought about 
how great it was greater than any fucking she had ever known or imagined. 
But there was more between them than just fucking, she believed. They were 
totally right for each other. 

She got up, after a time, and went to the bathroom while he stretched out on 
his back. She took off all her clothes and showered. 

She returned to him in the nude . . . 

 5 

"Have you had many women?" she asked, as she held and caressed his meaty, 
soft cock, watching what she was doing. 

He circled his fingertip around one of her nipples. "Why do you want to know 
that?" 

"Farris said you were a ladies' man." 

He stared at her. "The son of a bitch! When did he say that?" 

"This morning, right after you left the office." 

"What made him say it?" 

Teresa dropped his cock and looked away. "I don't know. I guess he thought I 
was interested in you." 

"You know what he's trying to do, don't you? He'd like to make you himself." 

She stared at Joe. "Old Mr. Farris? Why, he's twice my age! And he's got a 
wife." 

"What the hell difference does that make? Middle-aged men are the most 
dangerous." 

Teresa smiled. "You're jealous, aren't you?" 

"Maybe. I've never felt about another woman the way I feel about you." 

"Really, Joe?" she asked. 

"No shit! I mean it!" 

"I'm glad!" She snuggled against him. 

"Now we're going to move it together. Better here than my place. I've just 
got a room." 

"Wait a minute! Aren't we rushing things?" 

"Nope," Joe said. "What if that husband of yours comes back?" 

She stared and didn't say anything. 

"Well, he might. And I don't want you taking him in!" 

"He won't be back," she said, without much conviction, and averted her eyes. 

"Listen to you! You don't know. He could never come back or he could show up 
tomorrow. Maybe tonight. I'm betting he'll be back, because you're too good 
to lose. Believe me. I've known a few women." 

"We're back to that again," Teresa said, and asked him, "How many." 

"Shit, I don't know." 

"Have you been with half a dozen?" Joe snorted. 

"A dozen, then?" Teresa's tone became sharper. 

"I told you, I don't know." 

"A hundred, you . . . you stud?" 

"Does it make any difference? You're the only one who matters." 

"But if you've known all those women and haven't been satisfied with any of 
them . . . " 

"I'm satisfied with you!" 

"Why?" she demanded. "What have I got that the others haven't?" 

"A very tight little pussy," he said, and grinned as he caressed it. 

"Be serious!" 

"I am. A nice pussy is very important. You've also got beautiful tits." He 
squeezed one, forcing her nipple forward. 

"Lots of girls have nice tits," she said blushing, because she wasn't 
accustomed to using such words. "And tight pussies, too." 

"How would you know?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. 

"Joe. . . ! " 

He leaned over her and looked directly in her eyes. "I love you because 
you're you. That's all I can say. You're everything I need to make me happy 
physically and in all other ways. You're sweet and naturally sexy. You're 
outspoken sometimes and mysterious the next. Maybe that's why I'm so hung up 
on you. I'm never quite sure of you. But I'm sure you're the woman for me!" 

"That's nice!" she said, and beamed. 

They kissed warmly. 

"So we're going to live together," he said. "I don't know." 

"Why not?" 

"Well, it isn't.. . decent." 

"Shit!" 

"I mean it. I know lots of people are living together these days, but I 
still don't think it's right. This isn't so bad-just being together. But 
living together, that's different. It's like you're pretending to be 
married, only you aren't. It's not honest!" 

"You certainly have strange ideas," Joe said. 

"I'll be true to you-you don't have to worry about that!" she assured him as 
she caressed one of his fluffy sideburns. 

"Until Ben comes back." 

"Even if Ben comes back! He and I are through!" 

"Are you going to file for divorce?" 

"Sure. When I get around to it." 

"He'll be back before then." 

Teresa sat up. "Joe, what's the matter with you?" 

He sat up, also. "I told you, God damn it-I'm jealous!" 

"And I told you, you don't have to be! I'm through with Ben, and I don't 
care about any other guys!" 

"Even Old Man Farris?" 

"Now, that's funny!" Teresa said, and laughed. 

'Not so very. He's hot for you, I'll guarantee it. It won't be long before 
he'll be asking you to work late one night, and then he'll come on with you. 
What if he were to ask you to be his mistress, to set you up in a nice 
place, and you wouldn't have to work? Bastards like him can afford that!" 

"That's ridiculous," she said, but smiled as if she were secretly enjoying 
the thought. 

"Yeah? Well, what would you tell him?" 

She leaned close to Joe and whispered right into his face, "I'd tell him to 
go fuck himself. How would you like that?" 

"You would?" 

"I would!" 

Joe lay down again. 

"Now let's not spoil our time together by arguing," Teresa said. "You're 
right." 

She snuggled down next to Joe, and he took a plump, beautiful titty in his 
hand. He clamped his moist mouth around her nipple and sucked as he 
rhythmically squeezed her tit between his fingers and thumb. 

She felt for his cock and noted that it was thickening, yet still pliant. "I 
can't get enough of this!" she said. 

He took his mouth from her nipple, looked at the gleaming red bud, then 
licked it. He let her titty drop. 

"Did you enjoy sucking my cock?" he wanted to know. 

"Don't ask me that," she murmured. 

"I like to suck your pussy and your tits." 

She began to stroke him, whipping his meaty cock slowly in the air as she 
rolled his foreskin up and down on it. 

"Suck it some more!" he begged, and his shaft immediately stiffened in her 
hand. 

"B-but you . . . fucked me with it and you didn't . . . wash . . . " 

"That just makes it tastier." 

"You dog!" 

"Try it. Give it a lick. If you don't like it, I'll go get cleaned up." 

Teresa grasped his cock harder. "I don't want you to leave!" she murmured 
hotly. 

"Then go down on me!" His voice husked up. "Right now!" 

Teresa bowed her head, tried not to inhale his scent, and swiped her tongue 
around the bald knob of his prick. Her taste buds tingled with the tang. 

"Oooh, Joeeee.. . " she murmured, and licked him some more. 

She opened her rosy mouth wide and took his cockhead in. She sucked, her 
saliva washing the residue of jism and pussyjuice off it, and she swallowed 
down the heady mixture. Her nostrils flared, and Joe's musky scent made her 
woozy. She sucked him harder. 

Soon her circular lips were plunging low on his big, turgid prick, taking it 
deeply into her mouth.. . almost into her throat. . . sucking for dear life 
and digging it. Joe watched her intently. 

She brought her hand up under his mysterious balls and rolled them. 

"Lover! Ooh, darling!" she said as she let his prick go for a moment. Then 
she engorged it again and resumed sucking, hotter than ever. 

"Never do that with anyone else!" Joe warned. 

Teresa raised her head and asked in confusion, "What?" 

"Never take another guy's cock in your mouth!" 

"Don't worry.. . ! " she cooed, and glided her lips snugly down over his big 
rosy glans. She rhythmically tightened and relaxed her lips in his groove as 
she sucked his spongy-firm bulb. 

This could become addictive! Teresa thought as her senses buzzed with the 
pleasure of it. 

"Let's fuck now!" Joe said. "You get on top of me and ride!" 

She raised her head. "Do you like it that way." 

"Yeah. Don't you?" 

"I don't know," she said as she moved around. 

"Ben would never try it. He was a one-position man." 

"I like lots of positions," Joe said as she straddled him. "Wait until I 
teach you the doggy way." 

"What's that?" she asked as he held his prick straight up and sat on it. 

"Oooooooo!" she said, before he had a chance to answer. "That feels like a 
fence-post sticking up inside me!" 

"Fuck it, honey," Joe said. "Bounce up and down." 

She began to move gingerly, gliding her cunt-hole ever so gently up and down 
on his slippery cock until she became convinced that she wasn't going to 
hurt herself. Then she rode with gusto, like a cowgirl bouncing on the horn 
of her saddle. 

"Wow!" Joe exclaimed. "Look at your titties jump!" 

"Grab 'em, why don't you?" she asked as she kept bobbing up and down. 

He did, then found he enjoyed it more when he held his hands loosely around 
her tits and let them bounce against his fingers. 

"You were . . . tell me about the . . . doggy way," she panted. 

"Oh, yeah! Well, that's when you-Jesus, your cunt feels good! It's when you 
get onto your knees and stick your ass up." 

"That could be . . . dangerous!" she said, smiling as she fucked him. 

"How so?" 

"Well, what if you . . . made a mistake and . . . " 

"Get in the wrong hole?" Joe asked. "Yes!" Teresa blushed and kept bouncing. 
"I could do that right now." She stopped bobbing. "Shit, don't scare me like 
that!" 

Joe laughed and pulled her forward so that her tits plopped onto his chest. 
With his arms wrapped around her back, she resumed pumping her hips, and he 
met her motions with short jabs of his cock. His hands glided down her back, 
around her satiny buttocks, and he stretched her rear cheeks apart. The tip 
of his middle finger tickled her asshole. 

"Joe, that's nasty!" she said, and wiggled, trying to avoid the strangely 
stimulating contact. 

But Joe would not permit her puckered dimple to get away, and he kept 
stroking across it, then rubbing it in circular fashion, softening up the 
sphincter as she bobbed more heatedly on his hard cock. Finally, with 
twisting thrust of his middle finger, be broke into her ass. 

She caught her breath as her asshole clamped onto the end-joint of his 
finger, and she thrilled to the odd penetration. Nerve-ends which had never 
before been stimulated by a man were aroused. She fucked Joe harder. The bed 
rocked. They moaned and clutched each other as his finger diddled in her 
asshole while she pounded her pussy on his prick. 

She came, and he geysered inside her. 

"Oooooh, darling . . . it's just so wonderful any way we do it!" Teresa said 
and rolled onto her back. 

"It sure is!" he agreed, leaning over to kiss her warm lips. 

"Maybe I'll let you move in with me," she said. "Now you're talking!" 

"I'm afraid I need you all the time!" She lip-nibbled his lips. 

"Hey, you're on the pill, aren't you?" he asked, pushing up to look her in 
the face. 

"Yes," she said, and added with a giggle, "I just got back on this morning." 

"So you were thinking about us doing it tonight!" Joe grinned. 

"I hoped." 

He licked her lips, then slithered his tongue into her mouth, and she sucked 
it. She reached down and began to play with his cock. 

He shifted his mouth to her titties but didn't take his dick out of her 
reach. He tugged on each plump rosy nipple as she pumped new hardness into 
his cock. Then he slid over atop her. 

His lance sank into her super-wet flesh, and they began to fuck again. This 
was a long, slow, tender screwing during which he stopped several times, 
with his cock deep within her while they kissed and murmured love-words 
together; then he resumed stroking steadily, lifting her inch-by-inch toward 
another mind-blowing release. 

When they finally went out for dinner, she was blissfully bushed and happier 
than she had ever been before. Joe was more man than she had ever dreamed 
of, and she wanted him for keeps. 

He spent the night with her, and when she awoke in the morning he was on top 
of her again, his cock once more stiff as a poker. 

"I can't believe that thing of yours!" she said joyously as she wriggled 
against it. 

"Believe!" he said, and slipped it into her. 

They picked up where they had left off the night before.. . . 

6 

Joe was seated in the jiggling cab of his Peterbilt, but he felt as if he 
were riding on a cloud. He was a happy man. 

Why one woman, out of the hundreds he had known, should affect him in this 
way, he had no idea. There was just something about her that was impossible 
to define-something that appealed very personally to him. 

He was in love. 

It wasn't like him to feel jealous. In the past, he hadn't cared much if his 
girls had screwed around with other guys. But he was jealous now-of anyone 
who had anything to do with Teresa. He guessed that was as it should be. She 
seemed to feel the same way, being jealous of his past lovers. 

And that was just what they were, he vowed: Past lovers. He was through with 
them. Marybelle, Angie, Bernice, Paula-all the girls up and down his routes 
that he had been screwing off and on, whenever he had the urge. He didn't 
need them any more. He had everything he wanted, waiting for him at home. 

That was something else which was new: Keeping house. 

Tonight he and Teresa were going to drive to his place first, pick up his 
belongings, and carry them over to her apartment. Then he would be living 
with her, just as if he were her husband. When her real husband came back, 
nosing around, he would find out things had changed. Joe would send him on 
his way fast enough! But not too fast for Teresa to serve divorce papers on 
him before he left town, Joe hoped. He wanted that marriage washed out. He 
didn't like the idea of living with another man's wife. 

It was lunch time and his stomach was growling. A familiar stop was just 
ahead, and he slowed his rig, pulling over to the side and parking it in a 
vacant area that the truckers used. He hopped down, sauntered past a small 
grocery and toward the cafe on the corner. He didn't even think of Angie 
until he heard her yell at him. 

He stopped and waited for the girl with straight blonde hair, in pants and a 
loose blouse, to come bounding out of the store. 

"Where've you been?" she asked, lifting wheat-colored locks away from an eye 
and giving him a look of sexy invitation. 

"Hi, Angie, how are you?" he replied, shifting his position nervously. 

"Have you been coming through lately?" 

"I've been on another run most of the time." 

"Oh," Angie said. "Well . . . how about it?" She moved closer, and looked 
right up into his eyes. 

"Christ, I'm in a awful rush today." 

"So I'm a quick girl. You know that." 

"Well, uh, I want to grab a sandwich." 

"Okay. Stop on your way back?" 

"Angie . . . " 

She waited, looking up at him, her brown eyes appealing. "We've got to cool 
it," he said. "Why?" 

"I'm living with a girl." 

The cute blonde looked as if she had just been slapped. 

"I still like you a lot," Joe said. "But, we,, it wouldn't be fair to you or 
her. Do you understand?" 

"No!" Her eyes flashed. 

"Well, that's the way it is. Take care, huh?" 

Joe turned and continued on his way, realizing that he had been abrupt but 
believing that was the most considerate way to break off with a girl. He 
went into the cafe and ordered a double cheeseburger and a beer. 

He'd gotten to know Angie when he'd stepped into her father's store one day 
to buy a quart of milk and some Ding-dongs to eat while he was driving. He'd 
been running late, and hadn't wanted to take time for a regular lunch. He 
had flirted with the girl, who had looked cute with her braless boobies 
jiggling in a boy's-style shirt. To his surprise, she had slipped away right 
after he'd left and had come running out to join him in his truck. They had 
ridden together all the way to Flagstaff and back-and what a time they'd 
had! 

Since then, he had stopped by pretty regularly for awhile . . . until he had 
grown tired of her. He had never led her on in a serious way, but girls were 
funny. They fantasized and jumped to conclusions a lot. The thing that had 
never ceased to amaze Joe was how Angie could fool her father and slip away 
whenever she felt like it; either the old man was awful dumb or he didn't 
give a damn. Maybe he was hoping she would run off with some guy. Joe had 
made up his mind that the guy wasn't going to be him. 

After lunch he walked back to his truck, not glancing into the grocery store 
as he passed. He swung himself up into the Peterbilt, started it, and eased 
back onto the road. He was thinking about Teresa, as he had been most of the 
morning, when he heard something in the cab behind him. He turned his head 
and saw that the curtain of the sleeping compartment (which he rarely used 
for that purpose) was yanked aside. Angie lay curled up on his bunk, wearing 
nothing but her little pink pants. 

"Shit!" he exclaimed, and braked his rig. He was going to throw the girl 
out, dressed or not. 

But she slithered quickly forward and over the hump between the driver's and 
passenger's seats. Then she dived head-first between Joe's body and steering 
wheel. He was still doing 40, and his main concern was controlling his rig. 

Angie unzipped his pants. 

"God damn it!" he said, and could only squirm as she pulled his peter out. 

Giving a little groan, she began to lick it, starting with the circular lip 
of his foreskin. He cock grew, it bulb expanding to break partially out of 
the hood, and Angie licked the slitted pinkness that was exposed. By then 
Joe was twitching with excitement, and he knew he wouldn't stop the girl. 
Still, he was mad. 

Angie's lips worked his foreskin down off the knob of his dick, and she took 
his juicy bulb in her mouth. She sucked it as she squirmed, her hips still 
draped over the hump next to him. 

He kept shifting his eyes from the road to her cheeky bottom in the pink 
nylon bikini pants that rode low on her crack and angled curvingly up across 
her pale buttocks. The vibration of the truck made her girlish ass jiggle. 

Joe wanted to spank it. He was that mad, even though she was cocksucking 
him. But he was afraid she would start thrashing about, if he were to swat 
her, and it might cost him the control of his rig. 

He placed his hand on her impudent, panty-clad bottom and shimmied the 
responsive flesh. She dived lower on his dong, until her lips came close to 
ringing the base of it. He could feel his cockhead pushing into her throat. 
His balls churned. 

He pulled Angie's pants down and looked at the inviting crack of her bottom. 
Then he stuck his middle finger into his mouth and let his saliva coat it. 

His rig rocked along on the straightaway, a stretch of lonely road that was 
nearly devoid of cars. 

Angie's head motions were getting more and more fervent, sucking his 
up-thrust cock with long, clasping strokes. He stuck his wet middle finger 
between her rubbery buttocks, twisted it against her asshole, and felt her 
champ on his throbbing prick as his finger broke through her converging 
puckers. 

He didn't give her just one joint of his invading digit, or even just two. 
Twisting and pushing, he drove all three joints of his finger up her ass, 
clenched what was left of his fist, and worked it grindingly between her 
buttocks. 

She moaned against her mouthful of prick. But she didn't stop sucking on it. 

Steering with one hand and trying to keep his eyes on the road, Joe pumped 
his middle finger in and out of the girl's rippling asshole as his big prick 
throbbed in her mouth and throat, getting ready to shoot. The rather brutal 
ass treatment was his way of demonstrating his rejection of her, even as he 
let her suck him off-which he couldn't very well help. 

It if hurt to have her asshole deeply goosed by his finger, she gave no sign 
of it. On the contrary, she bumped her bouncy buttocks up and down, and she 
sucked his cock even harder. 

He began to squirm in the driver's seat. 

Here it comes, babe! he thought grimly. You're going to get your tonsils 
creamed! 

His hips lifted, his prick jabbing deep into her gullet, and he spurted with 
explosive force, blasting her throat with his sperm. He felt her hot asshole 
spasm around his deeply sunk finger, and he knew she was having a kind of 
orgasm, even though her cunny hadn't been touched during the entire affair. 

His prick twitched between her o-shaped lips and churned in her throat. Her 
frenzied gulping squeezed his glans, and that brought forth more spurts. 

He pulled his finger from her asshole with a sucking snap. 

Groggily she lifted her head, tossing her straight golden hair, and she 
rolled onto her back on the hump between the seats. She lay partially atop 
the instrument panel, her scalp against the windshield. She widened her 
thighs, drawing her knees back, and hanging her lower legs on opposite sides 
of the division. 

Joe looked at the beige-nippled domes of her tits and at the thick thatch of 
dark hair between her thighs. If she hadn't dyed her crowning glory, she 
would have been a beautiful brunette. 

Joe's gaze kept swinging back from the road and probing at the fleshy-lipped 
furrow that split the hair-patch between her legs. Her clit was up, and her 
rich-colored labia was unfurled. The wet, velvet pocket of her girlhood 
beckoned him, even though he had gone soft. 

She smiled and cleared her throat. When she first started to speak, having 
to shout over the noise of the engine, it was clear that her throat had been 
strained by the fucking she had taken in it: 

"So you like another girl better than me, do you? Does she suck you off like 
that? Does she let you goose her?" 

"Yeah," Joe said. "She lets me do everything I like." 

"And you really like her better than me?" 

"I'm living with her," he said. 

"Then I'm not going to let you fuck me," Angie replied. "I'm going to make 
you sit there and just watch while I bring myself off." 

He thought he would be content to do that, and it was with faint amusement 
that he glanced back and forth, from her to the road, as she touched the 
bent little finger of her clitoris and massaged it through its hood. 
Watching him, she used two fingers to strip the hood back and rubbed the 
shiny bump of her clit with the forefinger of her other hand. 

Her titties jiggled incessantly from the vibration of the truck's engine, 
the soft white mounds looking as if they were packed with pudding. Her brown 
nipples stretched toward the ceiling of the cab. 

But it was her cunt which kept drawing Joe's curious glances, particularly 
now as she plunged two fingers into its soft, wet center. She pumped them 
slowly in and out, watching him all the time. 

His wilted cock quivered, then began to lift its head. Soon it was sprouting 
rigidly from his open fly, and he knew he would have to fuck the girl. 

He hated himself and her, also, as he brought his 18-wheeler to a strop on 
the wide shoulder of the road. Springing his seat, he grasped Angie by the 
legs and dragged her back into his bunk. Without bothering to pull the 
curtain (since they were well above the passing traffic, anyway) he flopped 
atop her. His prick speared her hot, slick pussy, and he began to fuck. 

"Ooooh, Joe . . . baby.. . I love it!" Angie cried as she gripped his biceps 
through his shirt while he propped himself over her. She rocked her hips to 
the cadence of his deep-reaching strokes. 

The driving plunges of his iron-hard prick expressed hostility, not love. 
But Angie didn't seem to mind, or else she didn't know the difference. All 
she seemed to care was that Joe was jazzing her, rubbing the red-hot tip of 
her clitoris with his ridged and veined shaft, expanding her girlish channel 
with delectable ripples. 

He rocked the tractor with the force of his bull-like fucking as traffic 
whooshed past. Another semi came along while they were going at it and the 
other trucker ogled in, to see Joe sprawled between the girl's golden 
thighs, his clothed rump bobbing briskly. 

He shot. His gun quivered. The girl squealed and had her orgasm. 

Joe pulled out of her, picked up her panties, and used them to wipe his 
cock. Then he did something quite mean, which was totally unlike him, but he 
remained angry that she had caused him to cheat on Teresa: 

He pushed Angie out of his truck with no clothes on, and he yelled, "You 
shouldn't have much trouble flagging down a ride like that!" 

He gnashed the gears of his tractor as he took off, billowing dust all over 
the naked girl who stood beside the road. She screamed and jumped up and 
down in rage, causing her cupcake tits to bounce. 

Joe felt doubly guilty as he rocked down the road. 

As much as he loved Teresa, he wondered if he hadn't been better off before 
he had met her . . . 

7 

Teresa sat dreaming at her desk, still in a rosy glow over the abundant 
amount of fine loving she had gotten from Joe last night and that morning. 
She had never been thrilled so much or satisfied so deeply before. 

Normally she was attentive to the demands of her job. But today she had let 
her mind wander, and her work was stacking up. When her boss needed a 
routing slip that he couldn't find, he came out and noticed the papers lying 
unprocessed on Teresa's desk. He spoke to her about them. She didn't answer, 
but merely continued to sit motionless, a little glow in her eyes as she 
stared off into space. 

". . . into my office!" were the only words that got through to her, 
delivered in an angry tone. 

"Wh-what, Mr. Farris?" she asked, coming to and staring at the virile 
45-year-old executive who had black hair, a neat mustache that ran down past 
the corners of his mouth, and a full beard. 

"I said . . . come into my office, Mrs. Mobley!" 

"Oh. Yes. Certainly, Mr. Farris." 

Teresa stood up and smoothed her skirt around her very feminine hips before 
turning a d walking ahead of her boss into his private office. His keen, 
worldly eyes watched her buttocks undulate and noted the faint imprint of 
panty lines. 

"Sit down!" he snapped, obviously put out with her, and he swung the door 
closed so that the remaining small force in the outer office could not 
overhear. 

Teresa sat next to his desk and crossed her legs. Her pale-blue skirt crept 
above her cute knees. 

Arnold Farris rounded his desk from the opposite side and sat in his 
high-backed leather chair. He stared sternly at the pretty girl who returned 
his look shyly. 

"Just what is it, Mrs. Mobley?" he demanded, insisting upon being formal on 
this occasion though he usually called her by her first name. "All day long, 
you've been acting as if you were in another world!" 

"I'm really very sorry, Mr. Farris! I'll try to do better." 

"I want to know the cause of it," he said, leaning forward. 

"I, well.. . " She blushed. "I guess it's because I'm in love." 

Farris frowned. "Really? Who with?" 

"Joe Gresham," Teresa said proudly. She wanted the whole world to know. 

"After I warned you about him?" Farris said, his dark eyes snapping. 

"I'm afraid it was already too late then," Teresa replied. 

Farris got up and began to pace. "Well, I don't like it! A love affair going 
on right in my office-and you a married woman! That isn't quite decent, 
would you say?" 

"I.. . I'm going to get a divorce. I really love Joe!" 

Standing behind her chair and looking down, so that he could see the rounded 
tops of her titties inside her blouse, Farris announced, "I can't accept 
that explanation. And, to be frank, your work has not been altogether 
satisfactory." 

She twisted quickly to look at him. "What does that mean?" 

"That I'm thinking of letting you go." His calculating eyes seemed devoid of 
mercy. 

"Ooh, please don't do that, Mr. Farris! I need my job!" 

"Do you." 

"Yes!" 

"Well, perhaps a little punishment will suffice this time, for your 
inattention to your work." 

"P-punishment?" 

"Yes." Farris moved around in front of Teresa's chair and stood with his 
feet planted a few inches apart. "I am a great believer in corporal 
punishment. Of course, I have no legal right to administer it to you unless 
you give your permission." 

Teresa was surprised and nervous. "Uh, what kind of corporal punishment?" 
she asked. 

"A good, old-fashioned spanking!" Farris declared. 

Teresa jumped up, her cheeks blazing. "You're saying that you want to spank 
me?" 

"Exactly. Or else I shall be forced to let you go." 

The defiance flowed out of her, and she whined, "Mister Farris.. . ! " 

"That's it, Mrs. Mobley-take it or leave it! A spanking, and you can keep 
your job, or you will be through as of this afternoon." 

"That's not fair!" she whimpered, her lip quivering. Her eyes were anguished 
by the decision which she had to make. 

"I considered it eminently fair," her boss said. "You deserve punishment on 
two counts-first, for neglecting your duties, and second, for screwing 
around with one man while you are married to an other!" 

"B-but.. . is it for you to say.. . ? " 

A faint smile played across his satanic features. "I am assuming the 
prerogative." 

"Oooh." Teresa shut her eyes. 

"The spanking will be good for you," Farris said, more softly than before. 
"I might even predict that you will enjoy it!" 

Her eyes popped open. 

A strange giddiness seeped through her. She had been feeling pangs of guilt 
for having an affair with Joe while she was married. Though she hated to 
admit it, perhaps she did deserve to be spanked. 

"W-will the spanking hurt?" she asked. 

"It will perhaps sting a little." Farris's eyes glinted. 

"Oooh." 

"Make up your mind!" 

"All right," she barely whispered, her lashes lowering. "You may . . . spank 
me." 

She imagined a few pats of Farris's hand atop her skirt-which would give him 
a dirty thrill, no doubt. But she couldn't help that. And it wouldn't be too 
humiliating or hurt too badly, she hoped. As he had said, it might even make 
her feel better 

"Wh-where.. . ? " she asked, blushing. 

"On that couch." Farris pointed at a vinyl sofa at the side of the room. 

Teresa walked to it, a strange excitement building within her, and she 
carefully stretched out on her stomach, making sure her skirt continued to 
cover her thighs. 

Farris followed and knelt next to the couch. 

"Are you ready?" he asked. 

"Yes," she replied meekly. 

Farris yanked her skirt up. 

She gasped and writhed, trying to push her skirt back down. But Farris held 
her firmly in place with one hand against her back while, with the other, he 
continued to hold her skirt at her waist. He watched her shapely bottom 
quiver in pale-blue nylon panties. 

"Noooh!" she cried. "Stop! I didn't know you were going to do thaaaat!" 

"Very well," he said, and let go of her. "Pick up your check!" 

"Oooooooh!" 

After staring at him and starting to push her skirt down, Teresa let her 
head fall forward against the sofa once again, and she shut her eyes as she 
blushed stronger than ever. 

He chuckled softly and brushed his hand across the rounded loaves of flesh 
that expanded the thin, silken fabric of her pants. 

She felt intensely humiliated, but she couldn't put a stop to the 
distressing act. She needed her job. 

Quite apart from that, she seemed to need the spanking, also, strange as 
that seemed. 

Farris lifted his hand above her helpless buttocks, and he brought it down 
with a stinging 

Smack! 

Teresa gasped, and her springy-firm asscheeks trembled. 

Farris spanked the seat of her panties again. Her vibrating buttocks made 
the pastel nylon shimmer. 

Her boss's eyes, which were like burning chunks of charcoal, surveyed her 
quivering, vulnerable beauty, from the narrow elastic band that encircled 
her waist.. .down across her panty-expanding rondures . . . to the crescents 
of pale buttock that peeped out from beneath the lower elastics of her 
briefs. His gaze moved down along her full, tapering thighs, which were 
bracketed by taut white garter straps, to the stretched tops of sheer, 
beige-toned stockings. 

He spanked her again, harder. 

"Oooh, Mister Farris!" she cried. 

He set up a tat-tat-tat of raining blows against her flimsy, stretched-taut 
briefs, and her buttocks wobbled wildly. She moaned and squirmed, clawing at 
the couch. 

He quickly yanked her panties down, exposing her lusciously rounded 
asscheeks which were beginning to turn pink. She got a giddy thrill and 
gasped, but she didn't try to stop him as he smacked his flat hand against 
first one jiggling naked buttock and then the other, making an erotic, 
fleshy sound as the blows burned her. 

Never in her life had she been so embarrassed-or so oddly, perversely 
thrilled! 

She began to buck against the spanking, her bottom reaching for each 
flesh-jiggling smack. She moaned and whimpered. Her fanny seemed on fire. 

And that wasn't all: The lips between her thighs were getting slick, and her 
clit grew stiff between them. 

"Ooooh, Mister Farris . . . pleeeeease . . . wowwwww!" she panted. 

He stopped spanking her, and she spread her thighs, pulling one leg out of 
her lowered underpants. She shamefully clamped her thighs around the edge of 
the vinyl sofa and began to rub her slit against the firm ridge of plastic! 

Hunching fervently, not caring that her boss was looking on, she frigged 
herself on the sofa cushion. He smiled fiendishly as he watched her 
rosy-swatched buttocks quiver while the edge of the sofa grooved her soft, 
furry cunt, getting smeared by her slippery juice. 

He stood and ripped his pants open. The bonelike stiletto of his prick 
leaped out, and he grasped it fiercely. Teresa cast a guilty, impassioned 
glance over her shoulder as she strove for her release, and she saw Farris 
stroke his wicked cock, rolling his brownish foreskin up and down across the 
ridge of his purple-toned, bulging bulb. 

"Oooh, my goodness!" she cried, and, with stocking-clad legs spread widely 
over the edge of the sofa, she rubbed her hot twat harder against the 
plastic cushion. 

Farris stroked his hard-on rapidly. 

The room seemed to throb with the forces of unleashed passion, although 
neither person was touching the other. Masturbation reigned supreme! 

Teresa came, gasping and gurgling, then giving a long, heartfelt moan as she 
showered fresh, fragrant pussyjuice over the edge of the sofa. 

Farris gave a growl. . . then he spurted. He held his pipe-like prick 
pointed downward, and his blasts of thick, creamy cum splattered over 
Teresa's burning ass, trickling down between her buttocks, tickling her 
asshole, flowing over her hairy cunt. 

She moaned and shuddered, cumming again. 

Farris milked the final drops of his semen down upon her. Then he fetched a 
box of tissues and, after wiping off his cock and returning it to her 
expensive trousers, he knelt next to the sofa and proceeded to wipe Teresa's 
ass. 

She cooed and quivered, draining the dregs of her orgasm, as the man stroked 
a tissue between her buttocks, then used another to wipe off the outer 
surfaces of her rear cheeks. Finally he wiped her pussy, picking up her own 
spilled juice as well as his. 

He worked her escaped leg back into her pale-blue panties and pulled the 
silken undergarment up to snugly embrace her buttocks and her cunt. He ever 
ran his fingers along the bottom elastics, neatly tucking them beneath her 
rear cheeks. Then he flipped her skirt down and helped her to her feet. 

"Feel better, Teresa?" he asked with a smile. 

"Yes," she sniffled. "But my bottom burns." 

"That will serve as a reminder to do better work, and to quit seeing that 
tramp truck driver," he said. "Remember, I'm always here." 

"Yes, Mister Farris!" she exclaimed, and hurried from his office. 

She hardly knew what to think when she went back to her desk and sat down.. 
. gingerly. She was getting funny looks from the other two girls in the 
office. There were even some snickers. 

Teresa assumed that the other girls had gotten to know their peculiar boss 
as well as she had. But that hardly made her feel any better. 

What would Joe think if she were to tell him what had happened? 

He would blame her, of course . . . and probably with good reason, though 
there had seemed nothing to do at the time but give in to her boss's lewd 
demand. At least, she took pride in the fact that she hadn't fucked him. 

Well, Joe would never find out, if she could help it. 

Buck swaggered in about then, and she refused to look at him. 

"Just back from El Paso!" he announced, and slapped papers onto her desk. 
"Hey! It's ole' Buck Callahan. Can't you at least give me a hello?" 

"Hello, Buck!" one of the other girls, a cute blonde, sang out. 

"That's more like it!" he said, then glanced back at Teresa. 

She still refused to acknowledge his presence, as she had done ever since he 
had raped her and gotten away with it. 

"How's your boyfriend?" he asked softly, so that neither of the other girls 
could hear. 

She looked up at him then, and the jealous glint in his eyes told her she 
would have more trouble with him before long. Perhaps she should have let 
Farris fire her, she thought.. . 

 8 

All the anxieties which Joe and Teresa had suffered during the day were 
quickly dispelled after they got together that evening. When Joe moved into 
her apartment, everything seemed perfect. Sleeping in the same bed, fucking 
at night and again in the morning, being in close contact all night 
long-deepened their love and seemed to shut everyone and everything else 
from their lives. 

Buck no longer presented a threat to Teresa. Farris was a joke whom she 
would laugh at if he should ever make a lewd approach to her again. Ben was 
only a specter, without substance. 

Similarly Joe's long line of ex-girlfriends no longer had any meaning in his 
life. What did he need another woman for? Teresa gave him everything. She 
was his and he was hers . . . alone. 

The next day was a Saturday, and they spent it getting settled in the 
apartment. On Sunday morning, Joe suggested a drive into the country. 

"I'd better wear pants," Teresa said, scampering about in her skimpies. 

Joe was watching her, his cock curving forward from his balls as if it were 
thinking of standing up-despite having been fucked down to putty three times 
since the evening before. 

"The only pants I want you to wear," he said, "are those little white ones 
you've got on. Put a skirt over them, with a blouse. And, baby . . . don't 
wear a bra." 

"Joe!" she said, smiling at him with her large knockers exposed. "How will 
it look for me to be bobbing around in my blouse while we're hiking? Other 
people will see me, you know." 

"It'll look just great!" he said. "And as for other guys, let ;em suffer!" 

"You don't care if they ogle me?" Teresa asked, surprised. 

"So long as you don't encourage 'em," Joe said. That seemed fair enough, she 
thought, and she was more than happy to abide by the condition. 

They got dressed, put up a light lunch, and took off. Joe drove up into a 
secluded, palm-lined canyon. 

"Did you ever bring another girl here?" Teresa asked, letting a flash of 
jealousy show. 

"Never!" Joe said, grinning at her. .They both knew it was a lie, but Teresa 
decided to make no more of it. 

They got out of the car and walked. 

"Oooh, look at that!" Teresa cried, pointing. "A little stream running down 
the hillside! There must be a spring up there." 

"Shall we have a look?" Joe suggested. 

She started up a steep path ahead of him. No other hikers were around. Joe 
reached forward, ran his hands up the outside of Teresa's bare thighs, 
across her panties, and to her waist. As she kept climbing, he watched her 
bottom wiggle in her silky briefs. 

"Stop it!" she exclaimed, laughing with embarrassment, and slapped his hands 
away. 

He stepped up onto a flat ledge of rock, next to her, and pressed his body 
against hers, showing her that his cock was hard. 

"You!" she exclaimed, and glanced about quickly. "What if someone comes?" 

"There's only one way into the canyon, and we can see it from here." He was 
already unbuttoning her blouse. 

"What if somebody's up on top of the hill?" Teresa persisted. 

But Joe had her blouse open by that time, and he popped a ripe boobie out. 

"Ooooh, loverrrrrrr!" she purred, and petted his wavy, thick hair as he bent 
to lick and suck her straining red nipple. 

He let out her other jug and turned to suck at that one. Both her nipples 
were sticking way out by then and gleaming wetly. 

Her exploring hand told her that Joe was sticking out, also, though his 
pants were in the way. After casting another quick glance up and down the 
hill, Teresa pulled his zipper and let his prick spring free. 

She stroked his foreskin up and down on his thick, long rod and left it 
rolled back. His bulb swelled in the sunshine, glowing moist and rosy-pink. 
It made Teresa's mouth water. 

"Do we dare?" she asked, again glancing up and down the hill and seeing no 
one. 

"Well, this rock is gonna be kind of hard to lie on," Joe said. 

"I wasn't thinking about lying down," Teresa told him. "I just want to suck 
your cock?" 

"Oooh, baby!" he said, and his stuck-up dick quivered. 

His girlfriend squatted in front of him and didn't grasp his prick with her 
hand, because it was standing so beautifully on its own. She simply opened 
her mouth and fitted her rosy lips around his bulb. She sucked him like 
that, with some of his ridge still showing, and she tickled his sensitive 
slitted snout with her tongue. 

He groaned with passion, and his hard-on twitched between her lips. She 
began to bob her brunette head, her mouth gliding silkily up and down on his 
rod. The liquid sounds of her mouth on his dick merged with the rippling of 
the little stream beside them. 

"Careful now, Tommy! You don't want to fall!" 

The woman's voice from the path, just above, caused Teresa to bob to her 
feet, her cheeks blushing. She fumbled to pull her blouse closed. 

But there was nothing Joe could do about his hard-on. He had no hope of 
getting the massive, up-thrust thing back into his tight pants. As 
8-year-old Tommy, his blonde mama, and his bespectacled dad clumped down the 
hill, they all got an eyeful. 

"Mama, look at that!" the kid cried, pointing. 

Blushing fiercely, she said, "Shut up and come on!" 

"But he's got such a big one!" Tommy said as they went on down the path. 
"Will mine ever get to be that big?" 

"He ought to be arrested!" the boy's father said. Joe and Teresa clung 
together, and they couldn't keep from laughing, even though they were 
embarrassed. 

Then he said, "Maybe we'd better get the fuck out of here. That guy's liable 
to call a ranger or something." 

"I don't want to leave until I've finished with you," Teresa told him. "I 
want to suck you all the way this time and take your cream in my mouth!" 

The offer was too wonderful for Joe to resist, and he let her squat in front 
of him once again. His penis had slumped a little, but she quickly brought 
it back up to straining, stiff erection. Her pumping, o-shaped lips, 
devouring his dong, thrilled his sight as well as his tactile nerve ends. He 
also loved to watch her titties shaking. Those delightful stimulations, 
coupled with the thrill of doing a daring act outdoors in a public location, 
brought Joe to quivering climax fast. His prick jerked between Teresa's 
sucking lips, and he happily spurted his product onto her lapping tongue. 

She gurgled and groaned, sucking harder. Joe heard and felt her gobbling his 
semen down. 

When finally she stood up, her eyes a bit glassy but with a warmly satisfied 
look in them, Joe pulled her against him and kissed her full on the mouth. 
He could taste his own sperm on her lips and tongue. 

She buttoned her blouse and they hurried down the hill and to their car. 
They drove to another location where they felt safer. It was a high plateau, 
and they took off on foot across the meadow. They followed a stream and 
finally arrived at a bubbling spring where they sat down and ate their lunch 
on the grass. 

Afterwards they stretched out to relax. But it was not long before they were 
in each other's arms. Joe pulled Teresa's skirt up, as she lay partially 
atop him, and he massaged her supple buttocks in her clingy nylon pants. His 
ardor was tangibly reborn, and the responsive girl wiggled her tummy against 
his hardness. 

"Joe, it's so wonderful with you!" she said breathlessly, between kisses. "I 
love you so much!" 

"I love you too, baby," he purred, and unbuttoned her blouse. 

Her tits rolled against his hand like rubber balls, but with straining stems 
that demanded a sucking. He moved his mouth from nipple to nipple. Teresa 
reached down and began to shove his pants off. 

Playfully laughing and squirming, they undressed each other, secure in the 
knowledge that they were really all alone this time and would not be 
interrupted. After Joe was totally nude, Teresa stood up with just her 
panties on, and she made a show out of posing this way and that, against the 
natural background. 

She clutched her tits from underneath, squeezing and lifting them. She shook 
them to and fro while Joe grinned and lay back, saluting her erotic display 
with his cock. 

She turned her back to him, hooked her thumbs into her white briefs, and 
stretched them down a bit at one side. Her other thumb folded them over 
slightly, exposing the top of her crack. Wiggling her panties this way and 
that, puckers in the nylon slanted upward, then downward, across the 
fullness of her buttocks. The plump undercurve of one buttock escaped. 

Finally Joe had taken all of the teasy show he could stand, and he lunged at 
his sweetheart, drawing her down to the grass beside him. He pulled her 
panties down, and she happily kicked out of them, after which she spread her 
thighs wide apart and let him stroke her soft, furry cunt. 

His fingers twiddled her pussy-petals apart, and he dipped a digit between 
them. 

"Oooh, darlinnnng!" she cried as he stroked his finger up and down in her 
slippery fuck-hole. 

Soon he was bending between her thighs, and her legs were up. He topped off 
his lunch with the succulent dessert of her pussy. 

After awhile he crawled forward, fully over her, and slowly glided his long 
prick up her tunnel of love. 

"Mmmmmm, that's wow-derfulllll!" she moaned, undulating her belly around his 
cock. 

He began to stroke, steadily with no hurry, as he supported himself on 
straight arms and watched her face while he fucked her. She squirmed 
voluptuously. She bicycled her bare legs in the air. Her tits trembled like 
domes of pale Jello-o with cherries at their crests. 

Joe gradually stepped up his strokes until he jarred her with the power of 
his passion. She felt very warm and loved. His jarring thrusts, made her 
tits really leap, and he liked to watch them. But she preferred to have him 
closer to her, and she reached up to encircle him with her arms and draw him 
down. Lying against the pneumatic shock absorbers on her chest, he drove his 
prick briskly up and down on her slippery, man-clutching cunt. She raised 
her legs high over his back and crossed them. 

They fucked in loving concentration beside the bubbling spring and, when 
Teresa began to climax, it was as if she had a spring inside her, erupting 
warmth which spread throughout her body. Joe erupted, shooting bursts of his 
maleness high into her crevice, and she climaxed stronger, her sheath 
rippling up and down his quivering member like a myriad of little fingers. 

He drained into her every last drop of jism which his balls had contained. 

After withdrawing, he lay back, and Teresa snuggled next to him. They 
napped, not dreaming, because their lives had turned into a dream come 
true-a dream of perfect love. 

Driving back to town, Teresa sat as close to him as she could. They played 
sentimental country music on the radio. She thought how wonderful it was to 
be loved and protected. All her troubles seemed a lifetime away . . . 

9 

"Shit!" Joe exclaimed after answering the phone in the apartment and having 
a conversation with the company's night dispatcher. He had turned in his new 
address and phone number on Friday, because company rules required that they 
be able to reach the truckers at all times for emergency assignments. 

"What's the matter?" Teresa inquired, hurrying in from the kitchen where she 
was preparing dinner. 

"They want me to take the Salt Lake run tonight," he said. 

"Oh, no!" Teresa replied disappointedly, because she had been looking 
forward to more good loving. 

"What'll you bet this is the start of a whole new gig for me?" Joe said. 
"They'll probably have me on nights from now on." 

"Why?" 

"Because Farris knows I'm living with you." 

'That asshole!" Teresa said, employing a term that was rather strong for 
her. 

"He's an asshole, all right!" Joe agreed. "A dirty, shitty asshole at that! 
He wants to get his fucking hands on you, damn it!" 

"But that's not fair to switch you to nights," she said. "Can't you do 
something about it?" 

"Yeah. Bitch." 

"Is that all you can do?" Teresa asked, looking at him in dismay. 

"Shit, honey, I'm a goddamned truck driver." 

"But don't you have seniority? What does your union say about it?" 

"I don't belong to the union," Joe said sorrowfully. "Farris runs a 
goddamned non-union shop." 

"Then maybe you should quit." 

"Christ, no! There aren't that many jobs nowadays." 

Teresa returned to the kitchen and pensively resumed her preparation of 
dinner. 

"Joe. . . ? " she called finally. "Take the run tonight, and tomorrow I'll 
have a talk with Farris. Maybe if I ask him, he'll give you a break." 

'The hell you will!" Joe roared, appearing in the kitchen doorway, his face 
livid. 

Standing at the kitchen stove, Teresa looked at him, and her mouth dropped 
open. She had never seen him so angry. 

"That's just what he'd like to have you do, God damn it!" Joe went on. "He 
wants you to ask him for something. Then he'll say. . . 'why sure, honey, 
just give me a little piece of ass and I'll give you anything you want'. " 

"But I wouldn't do that," Teresa said, hurt. 

"Just stay clear of him!" Joe shouted. "Yes sir, no sir, and never set foot 
in his private office!" 

"You don't trust me!" she accused, getting angry. 

"Well, you're a damned pretty woman," he said, "and you do like to fuck!" 

Teresa wanted to believe she hadn't heard right. 

"Anyhow," Joe went on, as if he realized the need to dull the effect of what 
he'd just said, "I don't want a woman sticking up for me. I'll fight my own 
battles!" He stomped back into the living room. 

Teresa seethed. So that was what she got for being warm and affectionate 
with Joe, she thought. He had no respect for her! He thought that she would 
fuck with just any man! 

She slammed down the spoon she had been using and strode into the living 
room. "If you want dinner," she said, her eyes flashing, "you can make it 
yourself! I'm going out!" 

"What?" Joe seemed startled. 

She snatched up her purse and was gone without saying another word. She 
started up the street, not knowing for sure where she was headed, but having 
to get away. Her dream of love had suddenly been shattered. How could there 
be love without trust? If Joe thought she was cheap and common, he didn't 
love her anyway! 

She heard a car approach from behind her, and then it slowed and idled. She 
didn't look that way, because she was used to having cruisers try to pick 
her up. She strode resolutely forward, her braless tits bobbing in her 
blouse as she passed underneath a street light. 

"Teresa!" a man called. 

Recognizing his voice, she stopped and turned to stare at Buck's brightly 
painted van. He was leaning over next to the open right-hand window. "If 
you're goin' somewhere," he said, "I'll be glad to give you a lift." 

She remembered what had happened the last time she had taken a ride with 
him, but she thought bitterly, What difference does it make? Joe doesn't 
respect me, anyway! 

She walked to Buck's van and got in. 

"That's the girl!" he said, and chuckled as he started to drive. 

"What are you doing around here?" she asked not too warmly, as she stared 
straight ahead. 

"I was parked outside your apartment, waitin' for Joe to take off." 

"What?" She turned to look at him. 

"I knew they were gonna call Joe for work tonight. Me and the night 
dispatcher are good buddies." 

"You set this up, you . . . you. . . ? " 

"Baby, don't piss your pants! I had nothin' to do with it. I just found out 
about it. Farris is the guy who gave the order." 

"So, why were you waiting outside my place?" 

"Cause I figured that after Joe left, I'd drop in." 

"For what?" Teresa demanded spitefully. 

"Aaw now, baby . . . you ain't forgot the fun we had out in the desert, have 
you?" 

"You think I call that fun? Getting raped?" 

"Yeah, I think you call that fun!" Buck said. "I know you climaxed. Some 
gals have to be raped in order to get off!" 

"You stupid prick!" Teresa said. 

"Hey, now wait a minute . . . " 

"Anyway, I didn't get off when you raped me, if you'll recall," she said 
bitterly. 

"Yeah. I had to diddle you with my finger afterwards. But you sure as hell 
got off then. We wouldn't have had that problem if I hadn't had to pull out. 
Are you on the pill now? Bet you are," Buck added with a smirk, "now that 
old Joe is living with you." 

"You know, the better I get to know you, Buck, the more I dislike you! Why 
don't you let me out right here?" 

He continued driving. "It's too bad you and me got off on the wrong foot. I 
think we oughta set things right.. . get to know one another in a nice way. 
I can make you like me, baby!" 

"Fat chance!" Teresa said. 

"We'll just see about that." 

Buck turned a corner, and again she was out in the boonies with him, off the 
main road. He pulled over and parked. 

Her pulse accelerated apprehensively. Or was it excitedly, she wondered. She 
wanted to get back at Joe, and this was a way! 

Buck urged her out of the seat and into the back of his van, where a dim 
light glowed. The place was a perfect love nest, with deep, plush carpeting 
and a large bunk. He set her down on the edge of it. 

"Want a drink?" he asked. 

"No!" 

"Then, whattaya say we just get cozy." 

"Meaning that you want to lay me, I suppose." 

"Well, yeah!" a dirty grin spread across his fleshy face. 

"No!" she said, and her nerves thrummed giddily. 

"You lie down." 

"Huh?" 

"On your back!" She was getting so excited that she could scarcely speak. 
Buck stretched out. 

She attacked his trousers, opening them quickly, then fishing out his penis, 
which immediately sprouted in her hand to assume the hooklike shape that had 
fascinated her before. 

"Hey, baby . . . God damn!" he husked, as she bowed to his horny, curved 
dick. 

She began to lick the smallish, upward-curving head of his organ, finding it 
harder and less plushy than Joe's swollen bulb. The shaft-part was thicker 
than the head, but short. 

Teresa took his cock into her mouth and began to suck on it. Her senses 
swirled. She bobbed her head, and the curved tip of Buck's horn raked her 
palate. Her lips glided all the way to the base of his shaft, touching the 
bristly hair on his balls. 

Her tits shook in her blouse, and they throbbed. Buck grabbed them and 
squeezed roughly. He began to jab upward into her mouth. 

Oh, I'm paying Joe back now! she thought. I'm sucking another man's cock! 
But I'm not letting him fuck me, so Joe was wrong about that! 

Buck's upward jabs were too much like fucking, however, and Teresa didn't 
like them. Besides, they were too rough. She thought she might be able to 
control him better if she slid over atop him. But, damn it, she still had 
her panties on! 

She straightened on her knees and reached up underneath her skirt to remove 
her briefs. That was when she lost control of the situation. Buck gave her a 
shove, plunging her headlong toward the foot of the bunk. He got around 
behind her. 

"Oooh, pleeeease . . . nooooooh!" SHE BAWLED. 

But the man paid no attention, pushing down on her shoulders with one hand 
while he pulled off her pants with the other. He spread her thighs and got 
between them, jerking her hips up. She couldn't crawl away, because there 
was no room. Buck had her wedged into a corner! 

She felt the thrust of his wicked prick, parting the lips of her pussy and 
sinking into her hole, which Joe had lathered well that day. 

"God damn, baby, you're always wet!" he growled, and began to forcefully 
fuck her, ramming his clothed belly against her bouncy buttocks. 

This must be the doggy way, she thought. Joe told me about it, but we never 
got around to trying it-She hated doing it with Buck. But at least she 
hadn't agreed to it. He was forcing her, and it was another rape, just like 
before. 

He moved jerkily, briskly, right from the first, not giving her the long, 
slow, luscious strokes that she enjoyed with Joe. He wasn't sticking as 
deeply into her, either, because he didn't have as much to offer. But he 
made up for it by the curved, ticklish tip of his dong, which rubbed her 
cunt-wall in a way that drove her wild. 

She gasped and began to bob her bottom. Buck fucked her harder, grunting. He 
lay forward, over her ass, and reached underneath to grasp her titties. He 
wallowed atop her, riding hard, and she throbbed from head to toes, hating 
him but still responding. 

"Shit, what a red-hot fuck!" he gasped. 

"Oooh, shut up and dooooo it!" 

She bumped and writhed beneath him as he jerked and churned inside her. 
Suddenly he straightened on his knees, grasped her naked hips, and rammed 
his hard prick into her like a jackhammer. Her head bumped rhythmically 
against the wall of the van, which made her all the more woozy. 

She cried, "Fuck me! Fuck meeee! Oooh, you . . . dirty . . . fucking . . . 
ape!" 

She came, spasming hotly around his hard-driving rod, and he spurted. Again. 
Again. Again. His sperm splashed backward along his quivering cock and 
seeped out to drizzle through her fur. 

"Oooooh, shit.. . ! " she moaned, miserable because she had enjoyed him, and 
she flattened out on the bunk, causing his softened cock to slip away. 

She lay there, panting, wishing she didn't have to think. But she couldn't 
help it. 

Joe had been right about her. She did love to fuck! 

She had even begged Buck for it, once he had gotten started. 

"Now we really understand each other, huh?" he said. 

She didn't answer. 

"Are you still gonna shack up with pretty boy 

Joe?" 

"Please shut up," she begged weakly. 

"Sure. I'll give you time to think things over. But I figure you won't need 
very long." 

She sat around on his bunk and sniveled, "Where are my panties?" 

"You're some gal," he chuckled, "always lookin' for your pants! Why do you 
even bother to wear any?" 

She found them, worked her feet into them and pulled them up. Her wet cunt 
immediately made her panty crotch pasty. She pulled her blouse together 
across her bulging boobs and buttoned it. 

"How about a drink now?" Buck invited. "After we've had a few, we can go 
again." 

"Please just take me home!" she said, pushing at her tangled hair. 

"Okay. I gotta get up early tomorrow anyhow." 

They crawled back into the front seats, and Buck drove her to her apartment. 
He tried to kiss her good night, but she slid out, and didn't say a word to 
him. She heard him laugh mockingly as he drove away. 

I'll never be able to hold him off from, now on, she thought: He'll be 
coming at me every chance he gets! He'll be here whenever Joe's away. 

Oh, Joe, what have I done to you? What have I done to US? 

When she got upstairs, she found that Joe had already left for work, and she 
was grateful for that. If he had been there, she probably would have blurted 
out what had happened, and he would never have forgiven her, she feared. 

As it was, perhaps she had another chance, she thought as she turned on the 
shower. She stepped out of her shoes, then stripped off her dress and 
panties. She stepped under the soothing, cleansing spray. 

Yes! she decided. I'll try to forget about what I did with Buck, and 
tomorrow I'll apologize to Joe for stomping out of the apartment. Then I'll 
never, NEVER let Buck or anyone else get to me again! 

Joe's the only one I want, anyway. He's sweet and kind. . . most of the 
time. And he can love me better than Buck or anyone! 

He was even right about me. I AM hot! That's why I've got to be careful. BUT 
I NEED JOE WITH ME AT NIGHT! 

Even though Joe told me not to, she thought, as she soaped her hobbling 
tits, I'm going to have a talk with Farris. I'll get him to transfer Joe 
back to days! He'll do it if he sees there's no hope for him and me. 

I'll tell Mm that I love Joe so much, I can't get along without him. He'll 
understand that. 

The plan seemed neat and sensible to Teresa, because that was the way she 
had constructed it to seem. But she didn't know her kinky boss very well. 
And she wasn't yet acquainted with all the secret quirks of her own mind, 
which had made her do some of the shocking things she'd done and were even 
now leading her on to more . . . 

 10 

"Mr. Farris-may I see you, please?" 

The dapper, middle-aged man with the black beard and mustache looked up from 
his desk, and a smile spread across his satanic features. 

"Of course, Teresa!" he said. "Come in and shut the door." 

After doing that, she approached her employer's desk hesitantly. "I, uh, 
hate to bother you, but.. . " 

"It's never a bother to see you," he said. "Now, just what is on your mind?" 

Teresa was glad that her boss was in a pleasant, expansive mood. She smiled 
and relaxed a bit. 

"Well, it's about Joe and me," she said. 

Farris frowned. "Oh, yes. That driver." 

"I love him, Mr. Farris." 

"Don't you mean you're infatuated with him-his macho image and all that? 
He's no good for you, Teresa. Anyway, you're married." 

She bit her lip. As she had first feared, it was not turning out to be an 
easy conversation. 

"I, uh, know what my feelings are, Mr. Farris. And the reason I came to see 
you was that.. . well, you're making it very difficult for Joe and me by 
assigning him to an all-night run." She blushed. 

"Interferes with your sex-life, hmmm?" Farris said. 

"Yes!" Teresa admitted, and she raised her head defiantly. 

"I shouldn't speak harshly to you, because I'm fond of you, you know." 

"Joe said that's why you changed him to nights-because you're jealous!" she 
blurted, and was immediately sorry. 

What was she trying to do, she wondered, play one man against the other? If 
so, why? Farris didn't mean anything to her . . . did he? 

He read the confusion on her pretty face and took quick advantage of her 
loss of poise: "I'm going to prove to you," he said, "that I have nothing to 
be jealous of, that it makes no difference to me whether you spend your 
nights with Gresham or not. I have you in the daytime!" 

His eyes glinted as he snatched up a telephone and said into it, "I am not 
to be disturbed. Hold all calls!" 

"W-what are you going to do, Mr. Farris?" Teresa asked. 

"Teach you another little lesson. Take off your dress." 

"What?" 

Farris rose. "Take off your dress!" Resentment swept her. "You can't demand 
that I do that!" 

"Of course not. You can quit your job." 

"Are you saying that if I don't strip in front of you, you'll fire me?" she 
asked, eyes flashing and cheeks rosy-red. 

He settled back into his chair and smiled confidently. "More or less." 

There were laws which covered such things, Teresa knew. She might go to the 
State labor office and complain. But as a married woman living with another 
man, she didn't relish making a public issue of her sex-life. Also, she 
recalled the other day when Farris had spanked her . . . and she tingled at 
the memory of how it had made her feel. 

She had proved to Farris then, she realized with a touch of shame, that she 
would comply with unconventional demands. So she supposed she couldn't blame 
him for carrying the game a step further. 

She would not screw, however! She wanted to make that crystal clear. 

"I won't have sex with you, Mr. Farris," she announced, "even if it means 
giving up my job." 

"Who said anything about having sex? I asked you to take your dress off." 

"Just my dress?" 

Farris nodded. 

It was not the sort of thing that a female employee might reasonably be 
expected to do, Teresa realized, and she didn't see how it fitted in with 
the reason she had come to see him. He had simply turned the situation to 
his own advantage. 

Why was he so tingly, she wondered. Did she want to take her dress off in 
front of him? 

She looked away, while her cheeks continued to glow. 

Oh, shit? she thought. Why stall around? She removed her dress. 

'There's hardly anything cuter," he said, "than a pretty woman in bra and 
panties. Especially when she's also wearing a blush. And those stockings! 
I'm glad you have the good sense not to wear pantyhose. They're 
anti-erotic." 

"Mr. Farris, I don't care to discuss my underwear with you!" Teresa said, 
feeling defensive. "Now just what is it you wanted? Did you just wish to 
ogle me?" 

"Indeed! Come over here and sit down, please, next to my desk." 

In her white bra, blue and pink flowered panties, white garter straps, and 
sandy-toned hose, Teresa walked up next to his desk and sat down. The vinyl 
chair-seat immediately communicated its coolness to her through her thin 
briefs. She crossed her legs to try and re-establish her poise. 

Farris visually caressed the pale thighs above her stockings, the flimsiness 
of her briefs, and the swells of lush titty that rose above the rims of her 
bra-cups. 

He opened a drawer of his desk and took out two objects which first gave 
Teresa pause, then caused her blood to race: a coil of clothesline rope and 
a heavy pair of shears. 

"Wh-what are you . . . g-going to do with those?" she asked, her eyes 
widening. 

The fact that she didn't get up and run gave Farris a signal that he could 
proceed with confidence, she realized later. At the time, running didn't 
even occur to her, because she was so fascinated by the man's bizarre 
approach to matters sexual. 

Without answering her question, he proceeded to cut four short lengths of 
rope, after which he knelt in front of her chair. Her tension heightened by 
the moment. 

What in the world is this oddball going to do? she wondered, all aquiver. 

Still without speaking, and without touching her more than was necessary, he 
tied each of her ankles to a leg of the chair and her wrists to its arms. He 
didn't make the bonds so tight they hurt her. Still, she was securely roped 
and could not rise. 

Her heart pounded. Her blood rushed. Her throat became dry, although she 
moistened somewhere else: There was a sprinkling of passion-dew onto the 
dainty crotch-band of her briefs. 

Continuing to kneel in front of her, Farris picked up the scissors with 
which he had cut the rope. 

"Spread your thighs wider, dear, and I assure you that this will not hurt," 
he said. 

"What are you going to doooo?" she asked, suddenly terror-stricken. 

"Not touch you with the scissors at all," he replied, "provided you sit 
quietly." 

Teresa froze. Quite obviously she could not resist. She had allowed the man 
to put her in a position where she was totally helpless and had to depend 
upon his mercy. 

While holding the shears back, in his other hand, he extended his middle 
finger and pointed it up between her open thighs. She jumped as his finger 
audaciously insinuated itself beneath a leg elastic of her nylon briefs, and 
he stretched the crotch of her panties forward. That was when he brought the 
scissors into play, deftly snipping the center of her pants in two. 

What was left of the panties snapped back, and Teresa's cunt was exposed-or, 
rather, the top of it was. The lower portion was squashed against the chair, 
with her panties still in between. 

"Sit forward!" Farris said, and took a pair of thick books from his desk, 
wedging them between her back and the chair. She was thereby prevented from 
backing up, and her twat hung forward, off the chair seat, her snipped panty 
crotch dangling. 

Excitement had flared the inner lips of her pussy, pushing their edges out 
from between her larger, hair-covered labia. Her clit was noticeably erect. 
Also noticeable were the drops of girlie juice which she earlier had 
deposited on the crotch of her panties, now hanging in plain view. 

"You enjoy these little sessions in my office-don't you?" 

Farris asked, and lifted his shears toward her chest. 

"Ooooh!" was all she could say. 

He worked a finger under the center of her brassiere, stretched the divided 
tit-hammock forward, and neatly parted it with the scissors. The sides of 
her bra literally flew back, exposing her round, voluptuous tits, which 
quivered. Her nipples swelled as he looked at them. 

"You have adorable jugs!" he said. 

"Please.. . ! " She lowered her lashes, and her lush bottom lip trembled. 

Her entire body was a throb. Her clit tingled. Her nipples pricked. 

Farris replaced the scissors on his desk, opened a drawer, and removed a 
long feather. Teresa was staring again. She became hotter. 

Farris pointed the feather toward her tits. 

"Oooh, God!" she cried. "Pleeease! That will drive me craz? I-zeeeee! 

The imaginative man began to tickle her nipples. 

She couldn't get away. She couldn't cover herself. She could do nothing but 
twist on the edge of the chair and gasp and moan as Farris stimulated her 
prickling nipples with the tip of the feather. 

"Ooooh . . . ooooh . . . ooooh!" she panted. 

Lurching, her rounded titties shook. 

The man tickled her boobs all over and underneath. It gave her a fantastic 
sensation, arousing yet frustrating. Though Farris stared avidly at her, he 
didn't once touch her with his hands. 

He worked the feather down her front, across the lacy band of her garter 
belt and the elastic of her briefs . . . onto her silken-clad tummy . . . 
then into her fur-patch, which was exposed. Her hips bumped spastically, and 
she nearly slipped off the edge of the chair. 

The man tickled lower, touching her hooded, protruding clit with the tip of 
the feather, and she gasped as if she'd been contacted with a live electric 
wire. He wiggled the feather up and down the pink edges of her flared 
pussy-petals. 

"Nooooh!" she cried. "Oooh, God! Please doooooon't!" 

But Farris just went on, a brightly determined glint in his eyes, and he 
worked the tip of the feather between the labia of her cunt. He glided the 
feather up and down her slit, then, in and out. 

Teresa thought she would go out of her mind. She had never felt such 
superficial excitation which gave no satisfaction whatever! There was no 
pressure, no fullness, just a wicked, giddy tickling that drove her 
sensitive nerve-endings wild. 

She panted and lurched, straining against her bonds. She tried to push her 
bottom backward, to get away from the man's feather-fucking of her cunt, but 
the books behind her prevented that. She couldn't shut her thighs, either. 
All she could do was squirm and shake and moan. 

Though she was bedeviled to the extreme, she also became fantastically 
aroused. She was almost ready to beg Farris to fuck her 

He sawed the feather in and out, across the tip of her clitty, and the 
delicate, gliding touch constituted fucking, in a sense-but not the kind of 
cunt-filling thrusts she needed. 

Finally he pulled the feather out, and she almost swooned from gratitude. 
But then he simply pointed the devilish instrument lower, coming up 
underneath her pussy which hung over the chair's edge. He touched the wet 
tip of the feather to her little anus, and she jumped again, crying out. 

Farris tickled her asshole unmercifully while she bumped and cried and 
squirmed, titties bobbing. 

When at last he placed the feather back into his desk, she had been reduced 
to quivering putty. If she could have gotten free of her bonds, she would 
have crawled all over him . . . sucked his cock . . . and impaled herself on 
the satisfaction-giving male prong. 

But he gave no sign of letting her off the chair. Instead, he removed from 
his desk another implement: a fantastically large, realistically molded 
dildo, made of pink rubber. It looked just like a gigantic prick! 

Teresa had never seen such a thing before. She stared at it, eyes wide, and 
she panted. 

Farris pointed the artificial cock toward her mouth. 

Oh my god! she thought. Why doesn't he give me the real thing? 

But she gratefully accepted the substitute, since that appeared to be all 
she was going to get, and she gobbled the rubber cockhead in. She shut her 
eyes and sucked slurpingly on the dildo, which Farris moved gently in and 
out between her stretched, slippery lips. Saliva dribbled down her chin and 
dropped onto her titties. Her brain swirled. 

But she wanted a cock that tasted like a cock! She wanted to feel it throb. 
She wanted to taste the juice that would have been seeping by then from a 
real prick! 

All she had was the cunningly molded hunk of rubber which stretched her lips 
wide and pleased them as she lunged against it; it also pleased the inside 
of her mouth, plugging it as a man's dick would have done. Still, she lacked 
the taste and scent and warm, pulsating maleness which gave cocksucking its 
greatest thrill and satisfaction. 

Finally Farris pulled the ersatz prick from her mouth, and she whined, 
"aren't you hard? Oooh God, don't you have something better to give me?" 

"I don't fuck promiscuously," he replied. "Nor do I let girls suck my cock." 

"Ooooh, I hate you . . . I hate you!" she said. 

He chuckled, and replied, "Let's see how you like this." 

Touching the spit-coated dildo to even wetter lips of her pussy, he gave the 
wicked implement a twist . . . and he pressed it steadily in and upward. 

Teresa gasped as the thick, hard-rubber column spread her cuntmouth open 
wide, glided in, and continued on up her channel, dilating it greatly and 
giving her, at last, something of the full, tangible pleasure that she 
craved. 

The artificial cock must have measured ten inches, and Farris didn't give 
her nearly all of it before taking his hand away and leaving the thing 
sticking in her, motionless. Her pussy throbbed around it, her circular 
muscles grabbing spasmodically. She felt a dull ache in her lower region, a 
longing for the thing to be stroked! 

"Please . . . please . . . oooh God, you're torturing meeee!" she moaned. 

Farris untied her wrist from the chair. "Then please yourself, my darling," 
he said softly but with a rasping edge to his voice. 

"Ooooh think you, thank you!" Teresa cried, and grasped the rubber cock 
which protruded obscenely from her cunt. 

She began to pump it, using both hands, gliding it thickly in and out, 
working it deeper with every pull. Her mouth hung open, and her wide brown 
eyes gazed warmly at Farris, though with an impersonal vacancy to them, as 
if she were lost in a world of her own. 

He appeared to like that. Smiling, he rose to his feet, and his pants-front 
bulged. 

Teresa watched him open his trousers and un-limber his horny cock. He 
stroked the leathery brown foreskin up and down on it, alternately exposing 
and concealing its moist, purplish bulb. 

She had given up any hope of having that dick pushed into her, and instead 
resigned herself to humiliating masturbation. She no longer cared, because 
it felt good. What a big, thick monster of a rubber cock it was which 
rippled her cunt-walls and stroked the red-hot tip of her clit . . . which 
sank deliciously deep into her quaking belly! 

She writhed and moaned and frigged herself while she watched Farris jack 
off. 

His pleasure-giving fist snugly gripped his loose, wet foreskin, gliding it 
up and down across the ridge of his cockhead, making his bulb swell and 
drool. He stared at Teresa's quivering tits and at the dildo she was shoving 
up and down inside her. The pink rubber gleamed with her juices, and he 
could see her damp pussylips turn outward each time she withdrew the 
artificial cock, then turn inward as she fucked the thing deeply into 
herself. She writhed and panted. 

She was going to get there, she realized. She was going to come strongly! 

She stepped up the rhythm of the self-fucking, greedily going for the 
satisfaction she craved. 

Farris quickened the tempo of-his masturbation at the same time. His cock 
twitched and quivered as he stroked it. It stood up high and hard, pointing 
directly at Teresa's face. His bulb swelled voluptuously. 

She gasped. Her mouth hung open. She diddled the dildo fast. 

As she pantingly surged toward her shameful climax and was just about to 
reach it, Farris let go. A powerful spurt of thick, creamy cum issued from 
the end of his cock and shot at Teresa's face. She couldn't dodge. She 
couldn't do a thing to save herself. She didn't even want to, she realized 
shockingly, as his sperm splattered into her face, and she got a bumping, 
bone-jarring orgasm. 

Spurt after spurt of the man's musk-scented semen struck her nose and open 
mouth and closed eyelids as he stood very close to her and kept stroking his 
quivering prick to make it shoot strong. The goop dribbled down her pretty 
face, hanging from her nose and lower lip, running along her rosy cheeks. 
She moaned and squirmed, her own climax deepening until she experienced one 
of the most thrilling and complete comes she had ever known. 

Farris's cock slumped in his hand, and he snatched a tissue from his desk. 
He wiped himself first and restored his softened penis to his pants. Then he 
wiped Teresa's face as she continued to coo and whimper in the afterglow of 
her extreme excitement and bliss. 

She finally pulled the wet, gleaming dildo from her snatch, and he watched 
her pink orifice slowly close before taking the artificial cock from her and 
wiping it clean. He placed it back into his desk. 

Teresa gazed at him, awed by the very strange but satisfying experience he 
had given her. 

The door of his office opened, and she whirled around to watch a young man 
enter the room and shut the door behind him. 

"I said I wasn't to be disturbed!" Farris roared. 

"Yeah, but that doesn't apply to your son, does it?" the new arrival asked 
as he walked around next to his father and gazed at the nearly naked young 
woman who sat bound to a chair. 

Teresa returned his gaze without shame. She had worked all through that and 
had no more girlish embarrassment left. 

The boy was about twenty years old, she judged, but with a remarkably 
worldly face, even exhibiting a touch of boredom as he looked at her. He was 
dressed in a sport jacket and slacks, with an open shirt. His dark hair was 
combed straight across his forehead and ran down past his ears to the line 
of his collar. His face was clean-shaven, and he had a mole on his right 
cheek. 

Surprisingly, he seemed more conservative-more straight-than his father. 

"This is my son Phil," the elder Farris said to Teresa. "He's on spring 
vacation from college. Phil, take the young lady home, will you? Her name's 
Teresa." 

She blinked. "B-but I'm supposed to be working." 

"Fuck that!" said Farris. "You've earned the rest of the day off." He bent 
and unbound her ankles from the chair. 

"Looks like Dad has been playing one of his little games," Phil observed. 
"Did you enjoy it, Teresa?" 

Ignoring the impertinent question, she glanced away. The younger Farris 
seemed as smug as his old man, and she didn't like him any better. 

"I can go home by myself," she said, and stood up. Her legs were unsteady at 
first, and she felt ludicrous with her damaged underwear dangling. 

"Take her home," Farris repeated to his son. 

Facing away from both of them, Teresa shucked her panties off and shrugged 
out of her bra. 

"I'll pay you for those things," the elder Farris said, and held out a 
twenty dollar bill. 

She ignored it, raising her dress and wriggling it down her form which was 
devoid of under things except for her garter belt and nylons. Phil watched 
with what seemed like faint interest and didn't smile. Teresa noted that the 
front of his trousers was straight. 

"Use the back way," his father indicated. 

"About Joe . . . " Teresa said as she stared at the bearded man. 

"Ooh, yesss. Well.. . " He moved around behind his desk. "To be fair to you, 
I'll put him back on days. What's the difference? I only made the change to 
get you in to ask me for a favor, anyway." 

Teresa glared at him, wanted to say something, but didn't. She turned and 
strode to the back door of the office, Phil following along. 

That exit avoided the awkwardness of going out through the main office, 
which Teresa appreciated. But she still didn't like the idea of Phil driving 
her home. 

"Really . . . you don't need to escort me," she said as they crossed the 
parking lot. She felt next to naked with no panties or bra underneath her 
thin and rather clingy dress. 

"When Dad says to do something, I still do it," Phil replied, "since he's 
paying my bills." 

Teresa gave up protesting and walked to his yellow, wedge-shaped sports car 
... 

 ll 

Theresa had no sooner gotten into the car, settling into the vinyl bucket 
seat with only her thin Dacron dress between it and her most sensitive 
parts, before she became anxious: 

What would Joe say when she showed up at the apartment, interrupting his 
sleep in the middle of the day? She could tell him that she wasn't feeling 
well and had been excused from work for that reason. But he might still be 
angry with her for last night, and he might look at her in a suspicious way. 

Or else he would want to make up and fuck. Both thoughts distressed Teresa. 

She didn't want Joe to touch her right then. She was confused and upset. 
Having gone in to see Farris on Joe's behalf, with only the purest of 
intent, she had submitted to a bizarre and degrading treatment which had 
driven her wild with illicit excitement and had ended up giving her a lot 
climax while Farris splashed his spunk all over her face! 

After that, she was going to go home to the man she loved? 

"So, how did you like Dad's notion of how to entertain a young woman?" Phil 
asked as they drove along. "Did it turn you on? Or more to the point.. . did 
it get you off?" 

Teresa cast him a critical glance. "Is it any of your business?" 

He smiled faintly. "No. But I have an academic interest, you might say. 
Psychology is my university major." 

"Well, I don't car to be a laboratory subject," Teresa sniffed. 

"Nice day," Phil commented, glancing about. "Shame to just go home." 

"I was thinking the same thing," Teresa blurted. "Let's go some place else." 

"Shit!" Phil said, and it was the closest thing to excitement that she had 
noticed in him. "Do you mean it?" 

"Yesss!" she said with a shiver. 

The young man whipped his sports car onto the desert road and, in minutes, 
they were zooming through the bright Arizona morning, headed for she knew 
not where. 

"I say you're frustrated after what Dad did to you-right?" he asked. 

"Wrong! I came like crazy!" 

"Well, I'll be a son of a bitch," he said in a casual tone. "Want some 
music?" he asked, reaching for the radio. 

"No!" 

"What do you want to do?" 

"Drive!" 

"Yes, milady." 

She sneaked glances at him, marveling at how cool and mature he seemed for a 
college kid. He was about three years younger than she. 

"I've really fucked up my life!" she said suddenly. 

"Oh?" Phil glanced at her. 

"Yes, I'm married. And I'm living with a guy. And another guy has been 
laying me. Then there's your father." 

Why am I telling him all thin? she wondered helplessly. Have I freaked out 
or something? Or is it just that I have to talk with SOMEONE and he's handy? 
Maybe it's because he's a psychologist, or is going to be. 

"About my father.. . " Phil said. "Don't entertain any illusions there. He 
and Mother have been married for twenty-two years, and they're not about to 
split up. He's not in the market for a mistress, either. He plays with lots 
of girls. Just diddles around with them in his odd ways. He's kinky as hell. 
But, then, you found that out." 

"Yes." 

"You're a good-looking chick," Phil said, glancing at her again, "and you're 
out of the ordinary. There's something about you." 

"Just what?" 

"I'm not sure. You seem reserved, yet you aren't bashful. I've got a feeling 
no one knows you very well." 

"Including myself," she said. "Want to go to a motel and screw?" Phil asked 
abruptly. "I don't know." 

Phil chuckled. "There you are! Mysterious. That really turns on a man." 

"But you 're not turned on. You're Mr. Cool." 

"You could turn me on quick enough." 

On an impulse, she reached over and unzipped his pants. Her fingers dipped 
inside and withdrew his soft penis. It was neatly circumcised and not 
especially large. 

"It doesn't excite you much to have a girl touch it," she observed. 
"Fellatio is my kick. Do you suck?" 

"Sometimes," Teresa admitted. She couldn't seem to hold anything back. 

"But you didn't suck my dad, I'll bet." 

"No. He didn't seem to want that." 

"He doesn't care for any direct contact. We've discussed his quirks. He and 
I are very outspoken with each other. Want to suck me?" 

Teresa shivered, though the day was warm. "I shouldn't! I ought to have you 
take me right home." 

"But that isn't what you want. Lean over here and give me a sucking." 

"Now?" Teresa asked. They were skimming down the road at 60 miles an hour, 
traffic passing them in the opposite direction. 

"Sure. Right now. Sex is more fun in unorthodox locations, I've found, 
especially when there's the risk of discovery. I once had a girl suck me off 
in a moving elevator. I just kept the car going up and down. Anyone outside 
could have stopped it at any floor and gotten on. But no one did. I had a 
hell of a come." 

"And the girl?" 

"She told me later that she was hoping somebody would get on, right while 
she had my cock in her mouth! Can you understand that?" 

"Maybe," Teresa said, and she shivered again. 

Phil waggled his soft whang. "Are you going to suck it or not?" 

She leaned across the console which separated the two seats of the sports 
car, and she began to lick the tasty head of his cock as she held the stem 
up. He reached into the top of her dress. 

"Good tits!" he said, and his dick stiffened in her hand, the head swelling. 

Teresa took his lollipop into her mouth and sucked on it. 

She felt like a complete slut, and somehow the feeling was good. She wanted 
to be just as wild and nasty as she could be-it seemed fitting. 

She pulled out Phil's hairy balls and began to lick them as his spike stood 
up next to her face, pressing across the corner of one eye. He was rolling 
her tits in her dress, pinching and plucking at her nipples. 

Oh, if Joe could see me now, he would be mad at me and kick me out! she 
thought. It would serve me righ t! I don V deserve him! 

I don't even deserve Ben. 

I don t know what I want any more, if lever really did! 

"I can't drive while you're doing that," Phil said, his voice turning rough. 
"I'm going to pull over and park." 

"Aaaaahhhhhhng . . . " Teresa said, licking his dick up and down. 

He parked on the shoulder of the road, and she could hear the traffic 
passing. 

When he opened the car's door, she raised her head. "What are you going to 
do?" 

"Get out." 

"B-but your cock's sticking up!" she said. "You can't get it back in your 
pants that way, can you?" 

"Who said anything about putting it back in my pants?" he asked, and stepped 
out of the car. His prick poked out and upward from his open fly. There was 
no traffic passing at the moment. 

"You get out, too," Phil said. 

"Oooh God, no!" 

"Afraid?" 

Teresa got out, trembling. She had really flipped, she decided. Freaked for 
sure! She didn't care what the shit happened! 

Phil led her to the center of the highway. A car was coming. 

"Are you crazy?" she asked when he pushed down on her shoulders. 

She knelt on the line in the center of the road and resumed sucking his 
stiff and throbbing cock. The approaching car honked and whooshed past, so 
close that they could almost feel it. Phil laughed, and his hard cock 
quivered between Teresa's sucking lips. She had a hot, fleeting come. 

"Oooh shit, this is rich!" he exclaimed. "What do you suppose those people 
thought?" 

"Ghawwgh . . . ghawwgh . . . " Teresa said, sucking for dear life. 

Another car approached, braked, and passed slowly. A middle-aged woman rode 
alone in the car, and she stared. Phil grinned at her. 

"Get onto the hood of my fucking car!" he told Teresa. "I want to screw you 
right here!" 

"Right on the road?" she asked, panting as she looked up. 

Another car streamed past, honking its horn. 

"Right here! Right now!" 

Phil hustled the confused but excited young woman to the side of the road, 
and boosted her up onto the sloping hood of his sports car. He raised her 
legs in the air, holding them wide apart, and stared at her lack of panties. 

"We've got to hurry!" Phil said, his voice shaking. "Because somebody's 
going to tell the cops." 

He dropped his pants and shorts, so as not to soil them, and he moved 
forward, his arms wrapped around Teresa's stocking-clad legs. Her ass was 
lifted off the car's hood, suspended in mid-air. 

Phil's stiff prick found its own way into her well-greased quim, and he sank 
thickly, throbbingly inside her. She cooed and squirmed. More traffic 
passed. There were more honks, some shouting. 

She heard, "You crazy, goddamned . . . " What, she didn't know, because the 
car had sped past. 

Phil fucked her with straight, strong jabs of his cock as he held her up by 
the legs and twisted her, squirming her hot, wet cunt around him. Now he 
grasped her by the asscheeks, letting her legs flop. Her garter clips winked 
in the sunlight, and her bare thighs gleamed above tightly drawn stocking 
tops. 

Phil stroked his hard prick in and out of her quaking pussy as he wiggled 
her supple, firm ass in his hands. She opened the top of her dress and let 
her tits bobble free. 

She was advertising to the whole world that she was a tramp, and that seemed 
to please her. She wanted everyone to know! 

She heated in response to Phil's stroking thrusts, and even more so in 
response to the shockingly public location of the act as cars and trucks 
passed in both directions. Nobody stopped. She kept her eyes shut, but she 
could hear and feel the cars, and she knew she was being watched as Phil 
pumped his prick into her. 

She squirmed and bumped against him. She gasped. 

When Phil exploded inside her, she came lusciously. His semen spurted, 
pooling in the depths of her quaking, gratified vagina. 

He pulled free, yanked his handkerchief out of his sagging trousers, and 
wiped his still-stiff and bobbing cock while Teresa tucked her tits away and 
scrambled off the hood of the car. How delicious it had been! She couldn't 
get over it! 

Back inside the car, Phil fired up the engine, whipped the nimble machine 
about, and took the first dirt road, rocketing across the desert and kicking 
up dust. 

"You can bet there's a black-and-white racing to where we were right now," 
he said. 

"Oooh, God . . . if we'd been arrested.. . ! " she shuddered. 

Phil made a quick turn onto an intersecting secondary highway, went a short 
distance, and turned again. 

"They'll never find us now," he said, and relaxed a bit. 

"What if somebody took our license number?" Teresa asked. 

"Are you kidding? They had better things to look at than our fucking license 
plates!" Phil laughed. "Baby, you were terrific! Shit, that was the most fun 
I ever had in my life!" 

"I don't want to go home," she warned him. 

"Great! We'll find a motel." 

"Oooh, God.. . ! " Teresa murmured. 

Twenty minutes later, she was spread out on her knees and elbows, with her 
ass sticking up, wearing just her hose and garters, while Phil knelt behind 
her, wearing his socks. He was slowly stroking his rod in and out of her 
slick, snug-fitting pussy as he ran his hands up and down her thighs, across 
her expanded stocking tops. 

"Phil. . . ? " Teresa asked, her tone tensely quavering. "Will you do 
something for me?" 

"Sure. What?" 

"Stick your cock up my ass!" He chuckled uncertainly, and stopped stroking, 
holding his prick deep within her vagina. "Are you sure you want that?" he 
asked. "Yessss." 

"It might hurt." 

"I hope so!" 

"You're a funny chick, all right," Phil remarked, and pulled his wet, stiff 
pecker from her. 

He pinched the cheeks of her ass, spreading them wide apart to look at her 
anus. 

"You've never had it up there, have you?" he asked, noting how small and 
tight her asshole was. 

"Noooh!" 

"But today you want to get punished?" 

"Yesssss!" she hissed heatedly. 

"No good," Phil said, and poked his prick back into her pink, slippery cunt. 

"Why not?" she demanded, as he resumed slowly pumping his cock inside her. 

"Because I'm not going to be used as an agent to solve your personal 
problems." 

"Then I'll pick up another man!" 

"Shut up and screw." 

Teresa lunged forward, and his prick pulled out of her to bob up and down, 
stiffly quivering. "What the hell.. . ! " he said. "Stick it in my asshole," 
Teresa told him, "or I won't let you get off!" 

He sighed. "Okay. If that's how you want it.. . " 

She positioned her ass again trembling, and he pinched her cheeks wide 
apart. He stared at her star-shaped converging puckers. Her anus had a 
sprinkling of tiny black hairs around it. 

Phil poked forward, nestling his prick in the sucked-in dimple. 

"Oooh!" Teresa said. She was frightened. Still -she wanted him to do it! 

Gritting his teeth, the young man began to grind, twisting his cum-coated 
prick against her resisting anus. Though if she had no concern for her 
safety at the moment, her anus wanted to protect itself. 

But it lost the effort, being gradually forced to yield and spread as Phil 
pushed and twisted. The little aperture opened up. It got shockingly bigger 
and bigger as Phil watched and Teresa moaned, hurting. The greased head of 
his prick spread her anus quite wide indeed before it popped in. Teresa 
shuddered, and her asshole clutched him. 

"Godddd!" she said. "That feels like a log sticking in there!" 

"It's going to feel worse!" Phil promised. "But it's what you wanted!" 

He ground ruthlessly forward, burrowing deeper and deeper into the girl's 
virgin ass. She panted. She whimpered. Tears streamed down her cheeks. 

The fellow's stiff, thick cock bored inch after inch into her tightly 
clutching anus, until most of his shaft was sticking up her hot rectum. He 
withdrew a little, and Teresa took a grateful breath. But the relief only 
lasted for a moment, as Phil came grinding in again . . . even deeper. 

"Ooooooh, it's awww-ful!! ! ! " the girl shuddered as he pumped his thick 
prick in and out of her abused and violated rear. But she couldn't blame 
him. She had asked for it! 

Ever mindful of this fact, Phil showed no mercy. He fucked her tight asshole 
with straight, strong, quickening thrusts. 

"Ooooh . . . oooooh . . . oooooooh.. . ! " she gasped and moaned, hurting 
like hell as he brutally buggered her. 

The tightness of her nether orifice, and the squishy warmth of her invaded 
bowels gave him such excitement that he couldn't hold back. His strokes 
became more and more rapid, until his ass-fucking dick fairly flew in and 
out of her clutching, rubbery rim. 

Though her conventional sexual nerve-ends were not involved in the fucking, 
Teresa responded. How much of her arousal was due to physical stimulation, 
how much to pain, and how much to the idea of what Phil was doing, she 
didn't know. But she began to bob her butt, her anus gulping at his hard, 
thick, penetrating cock. 

"God damn!" Phil husked, fucking fiercely. "You love it.. . don't you?" 

"Yesssss!" she hissed, panting. "Oooh, fuck my hot ass! Give me all the 
prick . . . you've got! Stick it.. . way up in there! Screw my asshole! 
Haaaardr 

Phil rocked her with the force of his unconventional, sodomistic fucking, 
and she came, quivering and jerking. His prick twitched in her asshole's 
rippling grip, and he spurted. His thick, creamy sperm irrigated her bowels. 

She had to rush to the bathroom as soon as Phil had pulled out, and she sat 
shitting for a long while, her asshole still feeling as if it were on fire. 

When he drove her home, she was subdued. She walked with difficulty after 
getting out of the car. She had cleaned herself up, and her anus had 
contracted back to its normal shape, thought not quite as tight as before. 
Still, she felt weak in the knees and sore between her buttocks. 

What she didn't feel was guilty as she let herself into the apartment. She 
had been amply punished for her sins, she thought, and she could look Joe in 
the face. 

He was up, fixing himself a late lunch, and he looked at her in surprise. He 
wore only pants and was bare-footed. 

"What the hell are you doing home?" he asked. 

"I didn't feel good," she said. 

"I don't feel good, either," Joe replied, his tone softening. "Hell, I'm 
sorry about last night." 

He tried to embrace her, but she shrugged him off. It wasn't that she didn't 
wish to make up with him, but she had to get on some underwear before he 
discovered she was without any and started asking embarrassing questions. 

She hurried into the bedroom, shut the door, and quickly pulled on panties. 
She lowered the top of her dress and donned a bra. She had just fastened up 
when Joe opened the bedroom door and contritely entered. 

"I don't blame you for being mad at me," he said. "I guess I acted like a 
bastard last night, saying I thought you might let Farris fuck you." 

"Let's forget it, shall we?" 

He grinned. "You bet! I'm ready." 

He took her into his arms, and they kissed. Teresa slowly drew away when she 
felt his cock harden. 

"I really don't feel good," she said. "Let's postpone it until tonight." 

"But, damn it, I'll be on the road!" Joe replied. "Have you forgotten 
they've got me on the night run?" 

"Ooh." 

As if on cue, the telephone rang, and Joe walked to the living room to 
answer it, Teresa following. 

"Yeah?" he growled into the receiver. "Oh hello, Harv." 

It was the trucking company's dispatcher. Teresa tensed. 

"No shit?" Joe said. "I can go back on days?" He grinned at Teresa. "Well 
thanks, man. Yeah-damn right, I dig it! See you in the morning." 

He hung up and looked at Teresa. Suddenly the smile faded from his face. 

"You knew they were going to put me back on days!" he said. "Did you talk to 
Farris after all?" 

"Yes I did, Joe!" she said, lifting her head defiantly. 

"Aaaw, shit!" 

"You got what you wanted, didn't you?" 

He kept staring at her. "Yeah, but I told you I wanted to work things out on 
my own." 

"Everybody can use a little help now and then." 

Joe's expression softened. "We'll forget about it this time. I don't want to 
start another fight." 

Teresa relaxed. 

"Farris was good about it, huh?" Joe asked. "He didn't demand anything from 
you." 

"Of course not." 

"Well, maybe I misjudged him. Want some lunch?" he asked, ambling back to 
the kitchen. "No. I ate." 

She returned to the bedroom and stretched out on the bed. She wasn't sure 
just how she felt-about Joe, herself, or anything. She hoped he would leave 
her alone for awhile and give her a chance to work things out in her mind . 
. . 

 12 

She didn't need a very long time to think, Teresa discovered that night, as 
she melted in her lover's warm embrace. It was just the same as always 
between Joe and herself. 

She forgave him for not trusting her before, because-let's face it-his lack 
of trust had proved justified. But she had been "punished" for her 
weaknesses, which meant she and Joe had a fresh start, free from guilt. 

In her mind, it all worked out quite neatly, and she wanted only to put it 
behind her. 

She and Joe kissed and played and fucked.. . several times before morning. 
When she went off to work, he whistled happily. Teresa snuggled down into 
the covers to relax for an hour or so before she herself had to go to work. 
Everything was all right, she confidently concluded. Joe was her man, and 
she was his woman. She never wanted to fight with him again. 

Dozing, naked beneath the covers, she felt warm and loved. 

The front door of the apartment opened, and someone entered. He called, 
"Where are you, babe?" 

Teresa sat up with a start, her tits quivering. 

"B-Ben.. . ? " she called, scarcely believing she had heard right. 

But she had. "Still in bed?" he asked, entering the bedroom and smiling at 
her, as if he had just been down to the corner to buy a pack of cigarettes 
instead of being away for two months, without a word. 

She stared at him, and he looked at her bare tits. 

"Hellll.. . ! " he said, and chuckled. "That's the way I hoped to find 
you-in bed, butt-naked, and waiting for it." 

He began to take off his clothes. 

"No!" Teresa cried, and leaped up, titties shaking. She yanked a cover off 
the bed and held it in front of her. But Ben already had gotten a good look 
at her jugs and her pussy. 

His cock poked through the fly of his boxer shorts to stand up, quivering, 
as he let his pants down. Just Teresa's age, he was skinny with an angular 
face. His eyes were dark and roguish below black brows, and he wore his 
straight hair moderately long. 

It was his dick, however, which Teresa stared at. Though stiff, with a 
plump, attractive knob, it was short, compared to Joe's. 

"I know I should have written you," he said. "But I didn't know what to say. 
I was drifting around, looking for a decent job. I couldn't find one, so I 
gave up on California. Guess I'll see what's going down here." 

"Nothing's going down between you and me any more," Teresa said, still 
holding the sheet to conceal her naked body. 

"You're my wife." 

"Not for long! I want a divorce." 

"What's this shit? You got another guy?" 

"That's none of your business!" Teresa said, her eyes flashing. "I just want 
you to get out of here!" 

"Now, baby, you know you just need a little persuading . . . and I've got 
the old persuader all ready," he said, grinning as he gripped his short but 
rigid cock. 

"I told you to get out!" she said. 

"Okay . . . I'm sorry for not writing you. You've got a right to be mad. But 
we can pick up where we left off." He was approaching her in just his 
shorts, with his prong sticking out of them. 

Teresa panicked. Clutching the sheet about her, she made a break for the 
door. Ben tried to stop her, but was able only to grab the sheet, whipping 
it away from her body. She ran into the living room, tits bouncing. 

Ben was after her, his protruding prick pointing the way. 

She chickened out. She couldn't run from the apartment in just her birthday 
clothes. 

Ben caught her by an arm and swung her around, sending her plunging toward 
the couch. She tumbled onto it, her shapely buttocks vibrating. Ben sprang 
atop her. 

"Now you're gonna get it!" he said. "You're my wife, and I'm gonna remind 
you what that means!" 

Joe! she thought. I don't want to do this! I really don't! 

But she was powerless to protect herself from her husband's vicious attack, 
short of screaming and attracting the neighbors or the police, which would 
cause a scandal. 

Ben backed up, straddling her legs so that she was still held in place, but 
with her bottom exposed. He gazed at her wriggling asscheeks as she tried 
unsuccessfully to squirm away. Then he raised his right hand and brought it 
down against both writhing, supple mounds, slapping them with a noisy Spat! 
Her buttocks jiggled, and Teresa jerked. 

Ben swung both hands, alternating left and right, and bounced his wife's 
quivery asscheeks against each other, causing them to vibrate erotically and 
to burn. This was a stronger spanking than Farris had given her. Ben was 
really blistering her bottom! 

She hated him: She wished she could get at him with her clawing hands or 
kicking legs. But pinned on her belly as she was, that was impossible. She 
could only claw handfuls of the sofa fabric and wiggle her legs against 
Ben's buttocks as he sat on them. 

He spanked her until her bottom bore rosy swatches and felt as if it were on 
fire. Then he rose and rolled her onto her back. The fight had gone out of 
her by that time, and she was crying. 

Ben spread her legs wide apart, got between them, and wallowed atop her 
body. Her tits were like inflated air pillows beneath his hairy, ticklish 
chest as he ground his mouth against hers, forcing her to accept his 
tongue-spearing kiss. His hands ran between their bodies, surrounding her 
boobs, and he raised to watch himself squeeze and roll her magnificent 
springy-firm globes. 

"I've missed these tits of yours!" he said, and bent to suck her nipples, 
biting them painfully and stretching them up to let them snap back. 

Teresa moaned and squirmed. Tears clouded her eyes. Despite herself, she was 
beginning to feel a passionate response, and that was the worst part. She 
had sworn she would never again share passion with a man other than Joe. 

Ben's cock stuck up above the clump of hair at the base of her belly, and 
she knew it was just a matter of moments before he would drive that stake 
into her, demonstrating that he still had husbandly rights. 

She didn't want him to . . . and yet.. . 

He backed up slightly, tilted his prick down, and hunched forward, splitting 
the hair-fringed outer lips of her cunt. Because she was well-greased inside 
with Joe's cum, Ben's cock glided easily into her. He seemed surprised when 
he suddenly found himself fully lodged within her belly, on a single thrust. 

"You see?" he said. "You do want it!" 

"I don't! I don't!" Teresa cried. But he was already fucking her, and there 
was nothing she could do but accept the rapid, bone-jarring jabs, which made 
her tits shake up and down. 

"Oooh, Ben . . . Bennnn . . . damn ittt!" she cried, and squirmed, 
attempting to demonstrate her wish to get out from under him. The effect, 
however, was to wiggle her wet, warm pussy around his stroking rod, and to 
give him even more stimulation so that he increased the pace of his already 
rapid-fire screwing. 

Having enjoyed herself so much with Joe-and other competent love makers-in 
recent days, she had forgotten what a jackrabbit Ben was. She had just begun 
to surge, against her will, toward a climax when he twitched and spurted, 
sending his hot, liquid bullets deep into the center of her body. 

"Oooooh, you.. . ! " she moaned, quivering with unsatisfied passion which 
she hadn't wanted to feel. 

Ben pulled out almost immediately and stood up, his cock wet and gleaming as 
it sagged. 

Teresa lunged at him. Not thinking about what she was doing-not wanting to 
believe it-she lifted his slimy, strong-smelling penis and began to lick it 
crazily. 

"Heyyyyy!" Ben said, startled. "What the hell!" 

Teresa took his filthy cock in her mouth and sucked heatedly on it, making a 
sensuous, hungry sound in her throat. 

Ben pulled back, and his still-limber penis whipped free. 

"Where did you learn that whore-trick?" he demanded. 

"What?" She gazed up at him blearily. 

"Sucking my goddamned cock!" he said. "That's the nastiest thing a woman can 
do!" 

"I . . . I . . . " 

"You must've been with another guy-maybe a whole bunch of 'em!" Ben accused. 

"Just get out of here!" she cried. "I don't want you any more!" 

"Are you living with somebody else? Is that it?" 

Ben strode into the bedroom and to the closet, his soft penis nodding as it 
hung out of his shorts. Teresa heard him roll the closet door open. 

"I knew it!" he yelled. "There's a guy's clothes in here!" 

Teresa was still cowering on the sofa when Ben returned to her. 

"Who is he, huh?" Ben demanded. "Where can I find him?" 

"Oooh, pleeeeease! Just leave me alone!" 

Ben grasped her by the hair, hurting her scalp, and slapped her hard across 
the face. Pain seared her. Her brain went woozy as she screamed. Ben slapped 
her again, let her go, and she sank into a sobbing heap. 

She didn't see him get dressed, but she heard him leave the apartment. 

He would be back, she knew. She couldn't face more of his abuse and 
condemnation. And when Joe came home-what would happen? 

It was a hopeless situation, Teresa felt, and the only thing she could think 
of doing was to run. 

She got up and quickly packed, sniffling and trembling. She cleansed herself 
and got dressed. Since she had no car of her own, she called a taxi. 

Thanking God that she had a little money set aside, she asked to be taken to 
a downtown hotel. She didn't leave a note for Joe. What was there to say? 

 13 

Tired after a long run, Joe returned to the company office that afternoon 
and was surprised to find Teresa's desk unoccupied. 

"I guess yesterday was too much for her," one of the other girls remarked, 
in response to Joe's questioning glance. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Oh, nothing." 

The girls looked at one another, and Joe knew something had been going on 
which he should be aware of. 

"She didn't come in at all today?" he asked, feeling foolish, because he 
lived with the girl and ought to know whether she was working or staying 
home. 

"We haven't seen her," was the response, and Joe got the clear impression 
that no further information would be provided. 

Troubled, he checked out and walked to his car. 

Yesterday wax Uto much for her? What did that mean? What had happened 
yesterday? Teresa had come home early, saying she didn't feel well, but she 
hadn't indicated anything special had happened. Also, she seemed to have 
recovered fully by last night. 

Joe parked in front of the apartment house, deciding to put his car away 
later, and he hurried to the apartment which he had been sharing with Teresa 
for the last week or so. He opened the door, walked in, and stopped dead in 
his tracks. 

He was staring into the muzzle of a Saturday night special, held by a skinny 
young guy who sat facing the door. 

"What the fuck!" Joe said. 

"So you're the son of a bitch!" Ben replied. "I oughta put one through you." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Joe demanded. "What are you doing 
here?" 

"I'm Ben Modley." 

"Oh-oh," Joe said softly, then immediately recovered his poise. "Well, so 
what? Your wife's going to divorce you. She's my woman now, and we're living 
together." 

"Not any more you ain't!" Ben snapped, and indicated the pile of Joe's 
personal belongings at the side of the room. Joe hadn't noticed them earlier 
because his attention had been dominated by the small, ugly revolver, which 
was still pointed at him. "Pick up your stuff and get outa here!" Ben 
ordered. "I don't want to see you come back." 

It seemed to Joe that his whole world was crumbling, and he couldn't 
understand it. 

"Where's Teresa?" he demanded. 

Ben slowly stood up. "Man, you don't hear so good, do you? I said to split!" 
He raised the gun higher and pointed it directly at Joe's face. "I'd have 
every right to pull this trigger, because you got no right in my apartment.. 
. or with my wife!" 

Joe flicked his eyes toward the bedroom and noted that the door was shut. "I 
want to see Teresa," he said. "I want to hear it from her." 

Ben tensed, and Joe moved just in time, dropping to a crouch and swinging 
his left arm upward. The gun went off, and he heard the bullet zip past his 
head as he knocked the gun from Ben's hand. He drove a straight right into 
the skinny man's belly, which he followed with a vicious left hook to the 
jaw. Ben stumbled backward and fell to the floor, unconscious. 

Joe picked up the gun and jammed it into his belt. He strode to the bedroom, 
having a sick premonition that he might find Teresa's bloody body stretched 
out on the bed. Two-timing husbands with guns were dangerous as Ben already 
had proved. 

But-thank God!-the bedroom was deserted, and an inspection of the closet 
revealed that Teresa's clothes were gone. If she had split, was she running 
from her husband or from him, Joe wondered. And what if Ben had done her in 
after all, then had disposed of her clothes? 

Joe returned to the living room, grabbed hold of the other man's hair, and 
slapped him across the face. Ben groaned, and his eyes popped open. 

"Where is she, you asshole?" Joe demanded. 

"I don't know.. . ! " Ben growled. "She was gone when I came back tonight." 

"So you were here before! When was that?" 

"This morning. Man, give me my gun back!" 

"In a pig's ass!" 

Joe turned and strode from the apartment, not bothering with his belongings. 
That was the least of his concern right then. If Ben had told the truth--and 
he hadn't acted like a man who was lying-Teresa was confused and frightened. 
She needed him, Joe believed. 

Where to find her? That was the problem. 

More pressing, however, was the need to get away from the apartment house. 
The neighbors had to have heard the gunshot, and the cops were most likely 
on their way. 

Joe hurried out through the front of the building, jumped into his car, and 
took off. He drove aimlessly through the evening streets. 

Teresa might be anywhere. She might have left town, or she might be staying 
with a girlfriend. Perhaps she was in a hotel, but ut would take forever to 
check them all. 

The apartment was their only link, and Joe drifted back to it, after giving 
the police plenty of time to have come and gone. Cruising up the street, he 
did a double-take when he noticed Buck's garishly painted van parked in 
front of the building. 

What the hell is that son of a bitch doing here? he wondered, made a quick 
U-turn, and parked behind the pussy-wagon. 

Buck emerged from the building just as Joe was getting out of his car. 

"Why ain't you working?" the beefy trucker demanded. 

"They transferred me back to days," Joe said, "if it's any of your fucking 
business! What are you doing here? That's what I want to know!" 

T came to see Teresa, but she ain't home," Buck declared. "I've got as much 
right to her as you have." 

"Man, I thought we settled that a long time ago--when you were trying to 
feel her up in the company lot that day." 

"Shit!" Buck sneered. "I've had her a couple of times since then. She's a 
damned good screw! I don't blame you for shacking up with her. But I'll tell 
you something, man-she'll put out for anybody. Ask Farris and that 
snot-nosed kid of his. She's probably out with one of them right now!" 

Joe stared. His first impulse was to bash Buck's head in. But what if the 
bastard was telling the truth? He had spoken with greater than usual 
assurance. 

"If you don't believe me," Buck said, "ask around the company. It's the talk 
of the office!" 

Joe turned and shaken, walked back to his car. If Buck were lying, he 
wouldn't have said what he just did. And Joe wouldn't have gotten the funny 
looks and strange remarks he had encountered at the office that day. 

Teresa was a slut, he sadly concluded. And she had taken him in completely. 
When Ben had come back things had gotten too hot, and she had split the 
scene, walking out on everybody. 

Joe would never see her again, he believed. 

Well, good riddance! 

He decided to get drunk . . . 

In the early hours of the next morning, he found himself with the Willoughby 
sisters-Cindylou and Sharon-in their mid-town apartment. Both blondes, and 
real ones at that, he had partied with them before. They seemed glad to find 
he was back in circulation, drunk or sober. 

They offered all he needed-cunt and plenty of it. 

Nude, the three rolled on the girls' king-sized water bed, and his cock was 
up. It seemed a contest between the two titsy females as to which was going 
to make use of him first. 

But Joe didn't want to be used. He wanted to do the using. 

He pressed both girls into a kneeling position on the bed, with their asses 
up, and knelt behind them. They giggled and submitted, being just as drunk 
as he. 

He speared into the blonde-fringed pussy on the left, finding it 
slippery-slick from the foreplay in which the threesome had engaged. His 
prick socked solidly into Cindylou's welcoming crevice, and his straight 
belly slapped her bouncy buttocks. 

"Oooh, fuck me, Daddy!" she cried. "Make me know it!" 

"Hey, I want some, too!" Sharon pleaded as she waggled her lush bottom next 
to that of her sister. 

Joe gave Cindylou several deep-fucking strokes of his 8-inch rod, then 
pulled the gleaming wet piston out and transferred it to Sharon's equally 
well-prepared twat. He pumped in and out of her revolving and rippling pussy 
as she moaned. 

He went back and forth, back and forth, fucking both girls at the same time, 
but frustrating both of them because he didn't stay with either long enough 
to work them up to fever pitch. 

Finally they whirled around and swarmed over him, pushing him onto his back. 
Though he had wanted to remain in a dominant position, he found himself 
smothered by soft female flesh as Cindylou scrambled forward to straddle his 
face and her sister squatted astride his bristling loins. 

He had nothing to say about it as Cindylou's fragrant, wet cunt plopped 
soggily against his mouth and his dick was surrounded by Sharon's man-loving 
snatch. He bucked and squirmed, jabbing upward into Sharon's pussy while his 
tongue slithered into the meaty feast Cindylou provided. 

The water bed rolled beneath his undulating body as he ate cunt and had his 
prick blissfully massaged by pussy flesh at the same time. He reached up 
blindly and grasped Cindylou's tits. 

If anything could take his mind off Teresa, it was the superabundance of 
female flesh which now pressed down and around him, offering him all the 
pleasure and satisfaction a man could ask for. For awhile, it seemed to fill 
the bill. His prick throbbed in Sharon's very active cuntal embrace while he 
slurped down Cindylou's honey. His tongue flew across her clit and stuffed 
itself up her slick fuck hole. Sharon bounced merrily on his wicked prong. 

Both girls came at the same time. Cindylou's pussy spasmed against his face, 
sending a rich flood of girl juice rolling down his tongue and into his 
gulping throat. Sharon's cunt wrung his dick, trying to milk spurts of jism 
up from his churning balls. 

He shot. But he knew at that moment he was not getting the satisfaction he 
craved. The pussy which spasmed around his cock was not Teresa's. The sweet 
cunt which pressed against his mouth wasn't hers, either. 

He pushed the girls off and sat up. 

"Wh-what's the matter?" Cindylou asked as she lay on her back with her legs 
in the air, inviting him to take a plunge between them before his cock got 
soft. 

Sharon lay near the foot of the bed, also ready for more fun and games. 

Joe said nothing as he pulled his clothes on. He had turned into a one-woman 
man, it seemed, and it was his sad misfortune that his woman was the town's 
biggest tramp. 

He strode from the apartment without so much as a word to the girls who had 
entertained him, and he heard Cindylou say: 

"What's the matter with him, anyway? He sure didn't used to be like this." 

"Yesh, he's changed, all right," he sister replied. "I'll bet he's got 
another woman on his mind." 

Joe thought, If only that wasn't true. 

 14 

He didn't show up at the trucking office for his early shift the next day. 
He waited until he was sure Farris would be in. 

Joe marched into the boss's office without knocking, and Farris looked up 
from his desk with a scowl. 

"What's the idea of coming in late?" he demanded. "We had to assign your run 
to somebody else." 

"I don't give a shit!" Joe said. "I'm quitting, anyhow!" 

"Yeah? Why?" 

Joe reached across the desk, grasped Farris by the front of his shirt, and 
yanked him out of his chair. His eyes bugged as Joe hauled him forward onto 
the desk. 

"Where's Teresa staying?" Joe demanded. "I know she must've called in, 
'cause she's got a check coming." 

"Take your . . . hands off me . . . ! " Farris said, nearly choking as he 
clawed at Joe's grip on his collar. Redness suffused his cheeks, behind his 
neatly trimmed beard. 

'Tell me what I want to know," Joe said angrily, "or I'll smash your silly 
face to a pulp!" He cocked his fist. 

"All right! She's at the Oasis Hotel!" 

Joe's fist struck anyway, and he let go of Farris's collar at the same time. 
The trucking manager slid along the desk and dropped off the far edge of it, 
landing in a heap. 

Joe heard a sound from behind him and whirled as Buck charged into the 
office. He had been outside, picking up the papers for his run, and 
evidently had heard Joe's squabble with Farris through the open door. He was 
coming to the boss's aid, obviously interested in making points. 

Joe let him make his rush and quickly stepped aside. The bulkier, less agile 
man, plunged forward across Farris's desk. Joe grasped him by a shoulder, 
flopped him over, and smashed a fist to his face. Groaning pain, Buck raised 
a boot to ram it into Joe's groin. But again Joe was quicker, planting his 
own boot painfully in the big man's crotch. 

That put Buck out of action. 

Farris cowered at the far side of his desk, peeping fearfully over the edge. 

Joe turned and strode from the office . . . 

In her room at the Oasis Hotel, Teresa rolled onto her back and stared up at 
the ceiling. She had lain awake for most of the night, missing Joe and 
wondering how her life had gotten to be such a jumble. When she finally had 
fallen asleep, it was nearly dawn; then she had slept late. 

She had wanted to get an early start at job-hunting, but her fine resolve 
had been dashed. She didn't feel like looking for work, though she knew she 
would have to find a job. All she could think about was Joe and how 
circumstances had seemed to conspire against them. 

By this time he must have found out all about her, she thought shamefully. 
The gossip was too juicy for the office snitches to keep it to themselves, 
particularly now that she no longer worked for the company. Joe undoubtedly 
believed the worst of her and probably would never take her back, even if 
she could get up the nerve to return. 

Anyway, she was still married. And Ben was in town. 

She certainly would not go back to him, she vowed. 

She got up and walked to the bathroom, the protuberances on her chest 
bobbing springily. She sat down on the John and peed. 

She took a warm shower, which was calculated to soothe her nerves, but it 
had no such effect. Her handling and stroking of her soapy tits . . . and 
her cleansing of the rose-petal lips of her pussy.. . made her all the more 
tense and frustrated, without her lover. 

She stepped out of the shower and toweled herself briskly. 

Naked she stepped into the other room and stopped still, thrilling. Joe sat 
and stared at her lush nakedness, which glowed. 

"How . . . how did you find me?" she asked in a small voice. 

He didn't smile. "I beat the information out of Farris," he said. "I also 
kicked Buck in the balls. It'll be a little while before he's in shape to 
make out with another chick." 

"Joe . . . ! " she murmured, staring at him. 

"As for your husband," he went on, "he pulled a gun on me, so I had to work 
him over, too." Joe opened his jacket. "I've got the gun now," he said 
unnecessarily, as Teresa gazed at it. 

"I . . . I'm sorry for everything." 

"Shit!" 

"If you can't forgive me," Teresa said, "why did you bother to look me up?" 

"Because you're in my blood, and I've got to do something about that. You 
know what I need? To see you with another man-to watch him fucking you-and 
to watch you getting off! That'll cure me, I figure." 

"Joe! I don't want another man! I never did!" 

Teresa went to him, but he leaped up and grasped her by the shoulders, 
holding her off. Her tits quivered up and down. 

"Please.. . ! " she begged. "I'll make it up to you!" 

"Bullshit!" Joe snarled. "There's no way you can do that! You screwed Buck 
twice, he told me, and you let Farris get at you, too. You even gave it to 
his goddamned son! Right?" 

"Ooh, Joe, please! I didn't mean to do any of those things! They just 
happened! Maybe I'm weak, but you're the only man I want! You've got to 
believe that!" 

"I'll believe it if you can take on a guy while I'm watching and not have an 
orgasm! But I know you can't. When I see you cumming with another man-having 
your cookies crumbled-then I'll get you out of my system at last! Come 
on-get a dress on. We're going out!" 

"But, Joe, I don't want another man!" 

"Not now, maybe. But the first time I'm not around, you will. That hot cunt 
of yours just has to be pronged all the time, doesn't it, or you're not 
happy! Now I know why your husband ran off." 

"Joe! Please! That's not fair!" 

"Horse shit! Put a dress on!" 

"I.. . I won't go out." She walked to the bed and lay down. "I just want to 
stay here." 

She opened her tilted thighs teasingly, letting Joe have a glimpse of her 
hair-edged, damply gleaning cunt. 

"Slut!" he cried. "Okay, stay there. I'll be back." 

He turned and stormed from the room. 

Teresa's heart pounded. She feared what Joe had in mind. Would he return 
with another man and make her accept him? If so, she would die. 

But she couldn't just get up and run away again, not after she and Joe had 
been reunited. She wanted him desperately. The fact that he had come after 
her made her believe he still wanted her, also, and would continue to do so, 
despite what he had said. 

She tried to still her apprehension. Joe wouldn't really make good on his 
threat to turn her over to another man, she decided. He loved her too much 
for that. He would walk around the block a few times while his temper cooled 
off . . . and while his balls heated up as he thought of how she looked, 
lying naked on the bed. Then he would come back and fuck her.. . and 
everything would be all right. They would move into a new apartment, and she 
would file for divorce, serving Ben with the papers before he left town. 

The door opened, and Joe entered the room. 

"Darling!" Teresa cried, sitting up. "I knew you'd come back alone!" 

He stepped aside, and a uniformed bellboy entered the room after him. The 
fellow was freckle-faced and in his teens, trim and handsome. 

"Gosh!" he said as he gazed at Teresa's lush nudity. 

"Go get her!" Joe rasped, finding them the most difficult words he had ever 
uttered. "Remember, there's twenty bucks in it for you, besides the fun." 

"Joe!" Teresa cried, holding an arm in front of her tits and pressing the 
other hand to her furry loins. "You can't do this!" 

"Don't make a fuss," he warned, "or I'll walk out right now, and the kid 
gets his twenty bucks, anyway." 

Teresa lay back, the blood rushing through her veins. Her only hope, it 
seemed, was to go through with the bizarre test.. . and to pass it! Joe had 
said he would believe she wanted him and him alone if she could resist 
having an orgasm while another man screwed her. 

She ought to be able to manage it, she thought. Hadn't she failed to climax 
when Ben had taken her yesterday morning? 

But because of that, and because of her desire for 

Joe, she was more keyed-up than usual. It would be difficult to hold off 
today, she realized, especially with a strong and handsome youth like the 
freckle-faced bellhop. 

Obviously nervous, but wanting to make the twenty dollars-as well as the 
beautiful hotel guest-the boy began to take off his uniform. 

Joe sat in a chair to watch. 

Teresa resolved not to look at him. And she resolved, several times over, to 
feel nothing when the teenager slipped his cock into her body. She could 
control herself if she tried hard enough, she believed. Everything depended 
on it. 

When the boy removed his underwear, his cock hung limply, and Teresa was 
surprised. Wasn't she lying totally nude in front of him? 

But he was nervous, and no doubt that accounted for it. Also, Joe was there. 
Perhaps the kid had never screwed in front of anyone before. 

He fidgeted as he stood next to the bed, looking down at Teresa. His face 
was rosy. His penis remained soft. 

"Let her suck it for you," Joe told him. "Stand next to her head." 

"Joe . . . please!" Teresa begged. "Don't make me do that while you watch!" 

"Suck his goddamned dick!" Joe demanded in a harsh tone. 

The bellboy moved forward along the edge of the bed, his eyes reflecting 
eagerness even though his cock remained uncommitted. He stood within reach 
of Teresa and waited. 

Slowly . . . numbly . . . she reached out and took hold of his penis. She 
felt a tremor pass through him. She leaned closer, parted her lips, and her 
pink tongue came out. 

The boy looked down, watching. Joe watched, also, as his lover's tongue 
touched the lip of foreskin which softly encircled the bellboy's glans. She 
licked the sensitive edge of skin, tasting his tangy maleness. She told 
herself that she mustn't get aroused, and swiped her tongue across his 
exposed tip of pecker. 

The lad jumped again. His stem began tensing in Teresa's grasp. 

Plunging resolutely forward, she rolled his foreskin back and breathed in 
the scent of his faintly moist glans which emerged pink from its snug hood. 
She licked the slitted tip once again and swiped her tongue wetly around the 
flavorful bulb. 

The fellow's glans swelled, his shaft stiffening in her hand. She let go of 
his pecker, and the organ pointed at her of its own accord. She fitted her 
pursed lips to the end of it, and the boy gave a gasp as she glidingly 
encompassed his entire cockhead with her mouth. She sucked. 

Joe's prick grew hard in his pants as he watched. He couldn't prevent the 
automatic response, hurt and angry though he was. 

Teresa shut her eyes and glided her o-shaped lips claspingly up and down on 
the boy's barber pole. She caressed his lightly fuzzed balls. 

"Wowww . . . ! " he husked. 'That feels so . . . g-great!" 

He began stroking his cock between the pretty woman's lips, watching them 
claim his entire six inches with rhythmic plunges. Her tits shook. Her mouth 
was damp and warm. 

Teresa's senses swirled as she sucked the boy's cock. She liked it, and 
there was no way she could avoid getting excited. Her best hope, it suddenly 
occurred to her, was to bring him off with her mouth, so that he wouldn't 
have a chance to stick his cock into her cunt. Then, being nervous and all, 
perhaps he wouldn't be able to get hard again, she hoped. 

She began to pump her mouth rapidly on his dong. He squirmed and rocked 
forward and back, fucking her beautiful face. 

Joe rubbed himself through his pants. 

"Aaaahhhrgh!" the bellboy suddenly rasped, and pulled free of Teresa's 
mouth. 

His prick jerked and spurted, blasting thick, creamy cum into her face. She 
happily took it, believing she had passed the test. She even clutched the 
youth's cock and stroked it, making him shoot more and more-against her nose 
and lips and closed eyelids, until she had a face full of his musky-scented, 
warm, slimy sperm. 

Finally his penis softened in her hand, and she let it drop, as jism dangled 
from the tip of her nose and off her lips and chin. 

"Get down on the bed with her, kid!" Joe yelled. "You aren't through yet!" 

"Oooh, God!" she groaned. "Pleeeease! Don't make me do any more!" She was 
using a corner of the bedsheet to wipe the mess off her face. 

"Baby, you've just started!" Joe said, and stood up. 

When Teresa opened her eyes, she couldn't help noticing that his pants were 
pushed out of shape. 

The bellboy clambered onto the bed and stretched out next to her. 

"Tongue wash him!" Joe told Teresa. "Work all over his body! You've gotta 
get him up again!" 

She was dismayed and offended. But she still loved Joe and needed him. She 
had to pass the test, difficult as he was making it for her! 

She leaned over the youth and began to lick his nearly hairless chest. Her 
damp tongue probed at his small nipples, making them stiff. She licked down 
to his belly button and wiggled her tongue-tip into the crinkled 
indentation. 

He groaned, and writhed. But his cock only flopped limply to and fro. 

Oh, PLEASE don't get hard! she begged it. She never would have believed 
she'd be wishing for a man's lack of response. 

Joe stood next to the bed, slowly rubbing the protrusion in his pants-front. 

"Work right on down!" he ordered Teresa. "Lick the kid's cock and balls!" 

Her reluctant tongue obeyed, foraging first through his boyish bush, then 
around the trunk of his flaccid penis. She licked onto his nuts. 

The boy squirmed more actively. 

Despite herself, Teresa got caught up once again in what she was doing, and 
she tongue-flogged his peter, enjoying the taste of jism which clung to it. 
She took his entire soft cock into her mouth and sucked, getting the full 
blast of rich male flavor. 

She was hot all over. 

She was grateful, however, that the boy's dick didn't yet get hard. "Roll 
over, kid!" Joe demanded. "Let her lick your ass!" 

"Oooh, Joe, that's nasty!" she protested as the youth obeyed. 

"Damned right! That's why I want you to do it. You're nasty! You're a 
fucking slut-so act like one!" 

Teresa bowed and began to lick the boy's hairless buttocks. Perhaps she was 
a slut, she thought. Perhaps everything Joe had said about her was true, and 
perhaps she deserved the abuse he was heaping on her. But if she could just 
pass the test, and if he would take her back, everything would be all right. 

She licked the bellboy's ass more avidly. 

"Pull his butt-cheeks apart!" Joe directed. "Lick in between them!" 

The young man quivered in anticipation, and Teresa tensed. This was quite 
the nastiest thing anyone had ever asked her to do. Still, she felt she 
deserved it. Yes, she really did! 

She spread the boy's ass and stared at his small, tight anus. 

Joe didn't have to repeat his order. With her heart beating wildly, Teresa 
bent her head, wedging her cheeks between the bellboy's buttocks. Her tongue 
was out, and it touched the boy's asshole like a sizzling brand. 

He jumped, wobbling his buttocks against her face. She licked his anus and, 
surprisingly, thrilled when she tasted its acrid flavor. She wiggled her 
wet, strong tongue and thrilled more giddily as she broke through his 
sphincter. She shamefully licked into the clutching, rubbery ring of his 
asshole, tasting traces of shit. 

She wasn't the only one who went wild. The boy squirmed and jerked. She 
reached underneath him while still slithering her tongue in and out of her 
ass, and she found that his cock had turned hard as a rock. He was able to 
fuck her now! 

"Lie on your back, baby!" Joe said. "Spread out! 

Let him get on top of you!" 

Teresa flopped onto her back panting. The taste of the youth's shit-hole was 
still on her tongue, and she feared she might be sick. But at the moment, 
she was fantastically excited. She had been punished severely, she believed, 
and perhaps that was what she had wanted and needed all the while! 

The bellboy mounted her. 

When he drove his dick deep into her well-greased cunt, she squealed. She 
began to bob her hips right away, casting aside her resolution not to enjoy 
the fucking. She simply wasn't that strong. 

Joe stood at the foot of the bed and pulled his stiff prick out of his 
pants. As he watched the bellboy's shaft stroke into Teresa's hair-ringed 
hole, taking the wet, gliding caress of her rosy love-lips, he stroked his 
up-thrust, quivering cock. 

Teresa squirmed. Her pussy reached upward for every inch of the bellboy's 
rod and seemed to gulp at it, like a hungry mouth. Joe eyed her asshole, 
just an inch below the orifice that was being plugged-and, as he slowly 
stroked his hard cock, he realized he could forgive her. He would have to 
forgive her! 

Her hips moved faster and faster, with abject, shameful abandon. Her tits 
shook against the bellboy's chest as he rode the pneumatic mounds, her 
nipples pricking him. He pricked her harder and harder, and her cunt made 
lubricious sounds as it suckingly gripped his stroking organ. 

She gasped and writhed. She lifted her legs and locked them high over the 
bellboy's back. 

She was surging toward a climax, she shamefully realized, and there was 
nothing she could do to stop it. She loved Joe, but.. . 

She came, jerking and moaning, and the bellboy emptied his gushing sperm 
into her demanding hole. Joe let go of his cock and let it stand high and 
quiver in mid-air while he watched Teresa convulse in the throes of orgasm, 
beating her heels against the bellboy's back. 

She really deserved what he had wanted to do to her from the first moment he 
had seen her, Joe believed. 

The bellboy pulled out of her still-sucking pussy and scrambled off the bed. 
Joe, making no attempt to hide his massive erection-which would have been 
impossible, anyway-fished into his trousers and brought out two ten-dollar 
bills. He gave them to the kid who quickly pulled his clothes on and was 
gone. 

Teresa stared up at Joe, her eyes reflecting her shame. But she took heart 
at the sight of his amazingly huge and turgid hard-on. He still wanted her, 
his body was making clear. Perhaps, strangely, he wanted her more than ever, 
having watched her climax wildly around the bellboy's driving prick. 

"Get onto your belly!" he ordered. 

She became more excited than ever as she hissed, "Yesssss!" She obeyed. 

Joe knelt on the bed between her splayed legs, and he pushed his pants down 
so as not to get them dirty. He grasped Teresa by the ass and boosted her 
backside into the air. 

"Oooh, dar-linnnnng!" she groaned. "Yesss! Pleeeeease! DOOOOOOO it!" 

Joe spread her supple buttocks and stared at her excited anus, which 
pulsated before his eyes, the puckers contracting and pouting spasmodically. 

Joe spooned two fingers into her dripping cunt and brought out a copious 
amunt of goo, which he spread over his bulging cockhead. Then he parted her 
buttocks once again, and she held her breath, knowing he was ready for the 
brutal plunge. 

She knew his big prick would really hurt her when it squeezed through the 
small aperture of her ass and sank deep into her rectum.. . but she had it 
coming! Oh, did she ever! She could hardly wait.. . 

Joe's greasy knob pressed her converging puckers. Instead of tightening, 
they blossomed. Still, her anal orifice was too small to comfortably accept 
his fist-thick glans. 

Comfort was what neither of them wanted. 

Joe pushed forward, grinding his hard prick against her anus. She gasped. 
She cried out as her orifice spread painfully . . . and spread some more. 
Her asshole felt like a pit of fire as Joe slowly and forcefully inserted 
his thick, round-headed poker into it. He sank deeper and deeper-plunging 
and withdrawing, plunging and withdrawing-her rosy anal membrane rippling 
along his rod. She yelped and bawled. Tears streamed down her cheeks. 

Joe fucked her stretched, tightly gripping asshole and surged deep into her 
squishy, hot bowels. He stroked and stroked, his shaft taking on a slick 
coating of brown grease, until he finally twitched and spurted, gushing what 
seemed like gallons of thick sperm into her quaking ass. 

She came wildly, her buttocks vibrating at each side of his deeply sunk rod. 

"I love you, baby!" Joe groaned, as he lay forward, his softening tool still 
sunk in her ass. 

"Oooh, I love you, Joe!" she said. "I love you so much!" 

They both knew they would never be parted again . . . 

 15 

Several years later, Joe rolled his rig to a stop in front of a neat 
suburban house and turned off the ignition. He hopped down, grinning as he 
thought about what lay in store for him inside. 

Teresa had given him the signal that morning. She had lied, "The Muller 
Brush man is coming today, bit I don't have any money to pay for my order." 

"You know how to pay him, baby," Joe had replied, giving her a pat on her 
bouncy bottom. 

The kids were not home when Joe entered the house. He had known they 
wouldn't be. It was not even necessary for him to ask. 

He let himself in and called, "I'm home, honey!" 

Teresa entered the living room through the dinette, looking shame-faced. 

"Well, did the brush man come?" Joe asked. 

"Yes, he did." 

"And did you take care of him." 

"Ooooh yesssss, Joe!" she breathed. "And I feel so cheap!" 

"Well, you know what has to happen now," he said, and turned her around. He 
gave her a slap on the buttocks, propelling her toward their bedroom. 

Teresa's excitement mounted. She stopped next to the bed, and Joe reached 
forward at both sides of her, his large hands cupping her braless tits 
through her dress. He squeezed and rolled the resilient mounds, feeling her 
nipples prick up. 

He unzipped her dress-front, brushed the garment off her shoulders and let 
it drop to pool at her feet. His eyes swept lustfully along the graceful 
curve of her back, to the elastic of her pink panties. The thin nylon 
embraced her buttocks beautifully. The lace-scalloped leg elastics of her 
briefs arched upward across her plump mounds. Her thighs gleamed full and 
bare above the expanded tops of her stockings, which were held up by garter 
straps. 

Joe gave her a little shove, and she sank forward, rolling onto her back on 
the bed. Her rounded tits quivered to a stop, rosy nipples standing proudly 
at their crests. She steepled her knees and parted them a bit, so that her 
husband could see the narrow strip of pink nylon that passed between her 
legs, edged by curly little hairs. 

He yanked up his soiled t-shirt, baring his muscular and hairy chest. He 
kicked off his boots. By the time he lowered his jeans, his cock sprang up, 
rigidly erect, the hood pulling partially back off his bulging pink glans. 

He knelt astride Teresa's neck and dragged his heavy balls against her nose 
and mouth. Her nostrils flared, taking in the stimulating scent of his 
intimate perspiration. She licked his hairy nuts, bobbling them about, as 
his up-thrust cock waggled to and fro above her eyes. 

After she had gotten a sufficiently satisfying taste of his sweat-drenched 
balls, he backed up a little and she wrapped a delicate hand around his 
massive cock. She rolled his foreskin back, releasing a gust of musky, male 
aroma which caused her nostrils to flare once more. She gazed at his swollen 
rosy knob, then tilted his love-stick down and pressed her puckered lips to 
the slightly moist tip of it. Her lips gradually parted, and she took his 
entire bulging knob into her mouth. She sucked heatedly on his cockhead, 
bathing it in her thick, slippery saliva. 

She drew back, dropping her head to the pillow, and Joe's big prick flipped 
almost straight up, gleaming with the moisture she had deposited on it. 

He dismounted, and his wife rolled onto her belly. 

Joe pulled her pink panties down. 

As she moaned softly and wriggled, he stretched her panties, turning them 
inside out as they slithered along her stockings and off. She spread her 
knees and lifted her ass, concavely bowing her back. 

Joe took a moment to admire the billowing beauty of her backside, framed by 
her white garter straps and the stretched tops of her light-brown stockings. 
Then he pinched her buttocks apart. 

The puckered dimple between her pale rear cheeks teased him by contracting 
and expanding. Suddenly he pushed forward, slamming his moist cockhead 
against her anal entrance, and she gasped. 

"This will teach you to screw around with the brush man!" he said, and sank 
his big prick thrillingly up her ass. 

It still hurt when he buggered her-and that was necessary to her enjoyment. 
But the pleasure of having her ass fucked, and being made to feel she was 
being punished, overcame what pain there was, and she bobbed her buttocks up 
and down, loving his turgid strokes in and out of her throbbing, clutching 
rear hole. 

Joe watched his long cock sink deeply into her rectum, then withdraw, 
drawing her pink ass-flesh outward with it. In and out of her loving asshole 
he stroked, and he knew he had the most wonderful wife in the world. 

She knew she had the most masterful, loving husband, as well. She couldn't 
have been happier, even while getting her ass screwed. Especially while 
getting her ass screwed! 

She didn't need to fool around with other men. The talk about the brush 
salesman was just that--so much talk! 

Joe fucked her gripping, rippling asshole faster and faster, feeling it draw 
at his prick, begging for him to spurt his thick, warm sperm into her 
rectum. 

He leaned forward, over her back, and reached underneath her to clutch her 
tits. Squeezing the springy-soft mounds, he pumped his prick briskly between 
her quivering buttocks. When he felt the time was exactly right, he glided a 
hand down her belly to squeeze her clitoris . . . hard. 

She came, moaning and bumping, shaking her buttocks at each side of his 
quivering, twitching rod, and he emptied the produce of his balls into her 
rectum. 

"Ooooh, loverrrrr!" she purred, wiggling her ass around his deeply sunk 
cock. "You're the only man for me-the only man ever!" 

"Just see you remember that!" he warned, and gave a final twitch in her 
rear. Then he pulled his prick from her asshole with a sucking Pop! 

He knew she had meant what she said and that he had nothing to worry about. 
She knew she could look to him for all the satisfaction she craved. 

Theirs was one of those rare which was frequently talked about but not often 
seen-a truly perfect marriage! 


THE END
