SW-153  Sex Starved New Bride
Fred Barns


INTRODUCTION 

There have been, over the centuries of Man's civilized existence, a 
multitude of poets, authors, minstrels, lyricists, and artists who have used 
Young Love as the subject and theme of their great works - and rightly so, 
for that other human phenomena is so intensely fraught with beauty, spirit, 
drama, happiness, gentleness, sadness? We, the laymen of the world, should 
be eternally grateful to these craftsmen for having given us, through their 
varied talents, a chronological and aesthetic panorama of this great 
prodigy. 

And now, with the publication of author Jacquelyn Masters' truly magnificent 
new novel, A New Wife's Hunger, still another of history's superbly gifted 
women of the Arts raises her voice and opens her heart to extol the ultimate 
virtue of Young Love. With rare insight, compassion and deep understanding 
for the agonies and the ecstasies of this phenomena, author Masters probes 
in depth the union of Ann and Mark Lawson - two young lovers, just wed,, who 
are embarking on a freighter voyage to the Virgin Islands for their 
honeymoon; but more importantly, who are embarking on a life together in a 
world filled with pitfalls and predators and awesome hurdles. 

Ms. Masters' superlative command of the English language, unequaled by any 
author publishing her work today, makes the reader feel as if he too is on 
the boat with Ann and Mark, sharing their experiences and their heartbreaks 
and their desires. She takes us on an esoteric roller coaster ride which is 
both frightening and unbelievably beautiful, as she lays bare that side of 
Young Love's struggle for happiness and completeness which is all too often 
neglected by lesser artists. She tells us of the ineptitude, the fear and 
trepidation, which accompanies the formulation of a union between a virgin 
bride and a relatively inexperienced groom - and shows us how, in the space 
of ten short days and with the not always orthodox but nonetheless effective 
and humanitarian guidance of those men and women who have lived the 
torment-beauty of Young Love themselves, Ann and Mark Lawson are started on 
their way to a full, rich, rewarding life together with their love blooming 
more radiant with each passing day. 

We are indebted beyond words to the author for having given us the privilege 
of publishing this monumentally poetic and important saga of Young Love at 
the crossroads. 

-The Publishers 


CHAPTER ONE 

It was just past seven p.m., an hour before sailing, when newlyweds Mark and 
Ann Lawson boarded the M.S. Brunehilde. It was very hot even for Boston in 
early summer, and Mark was perspiring freely and breathing in panting gasps 
when he had completed his third trip up and down the ship's long, 
rope-railed gangplank with their luggage. 

As he placed the final two suitcases beside the others on the wohndeck of 
the large German freighter, he noticed Ann talking to a fat, 
jovially-smiling man dressed in a white shirt and white ducks, 
salt-and-pepper hair combed straight back in the European fashion with the 
ends sticking up like quills on a porcupine. He was, Mark thought, probably 
the Chief Steward, and would no doubt be conducting them to their cabin. He 
walked over to the smiling, Nordic-featured man and his beautiful, jet 
black-haired wife of less than four hours. 

He glowed inwardly as he stepped up beside Ann and put a possessive arm 
about her slender waist; he was a pretty damned lucky man and he knew it. 
Ann Lawson nee Montague was quite a catch, a lovely Dresden doll that all 
the eligible males in Erhert and Company - a huge Boston manufacturing 
concern - had been trying to either bed or wed ever since she had gone to 
work there as a highly competent personal secretary two years before. Only 
he, Mark Lawson, a lowly System's Analyst, had succeeded in accomplishing 
either of those goals - and only the wedded part to date. She had been firm 
in her persistent vows to remain a virgin until her wedding night, and in 
spite of Mark's urgings whenever they were alone and making out, he had 
gotten nowhere. Oh, she had let him fondle her breasts a couple of times, 
just a little, but nothing more than that - that is, until three weeks 
earlier when, after a cocktail party some of their co-workers and friends 
had given in their honor, he had come as close as a man could to taking her 
cherry without actually making penetration... but there was no use in 
thinking about such things now, for Ann was his and his alone, they were 
about to embark on a storybook honeymoon for three weeks in the beautiful 
Virgin Islands - and best of all to Mark's way of thinking at that moment, 
they were finally going to consummate their love for one another. 

The very thought of at last seeing Ann's small but perfectly proportioned 
and perfectly symmetrical body( bronzed from frequent weekends in the sun 
(except in two very vital areas), caused a little involuntary tingle to 
course through Mark's genitals. Damn, but it was going to be good! He had 
waited so long, so long... 

Suddenly, he grinned sheepishly. Hell, the way he was thinking, you'd 
suppose he was just some Hot-Pants Harry with a particularly fine score, all 
set to pop his nuts in a night of sheer lusting fun - and nothing else. And 
nothing could have been farther from the truth, for he loved Ann, loved her 
more than he had ever thought himself capable of loving any woman or 
anything. She was everything he had ever dreamed of, ever desired, in a 
woman and in a wife. Theirs was truly a marriage made in heaven... 

Ann turned to look up at him as he encircled her waist, her eyes shining 
with her reciprocal love for this man she had married. She said, "What are 
you grinning about so 
little-boy-caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar-like, Mr. Lawson?" 

He squeezed her lightly, kissing her forehead. "That, Mrs. Lawson," he said 
mysteriously, "you're going to find out a little bit later." 

She blushed, poking him, and then looked toward the jovial fat man facing 
her. "Mark, this is Kurt Romer, Chief Steward of the M.S. Brunehilde." 

"How do you do, Mr. Lawson?" Romer asked politely, extending his hand, 
beaming. His English was guttural, but good. 

"Very well, thanks," Mark answered as he took the proffered hand. He glanced 
upward at the boat deck and the bridge above them, at the orange-painted 
masts rising beyond the superstructure amidships; he turned to look down at 
the main deck below, to where more masts and boom winches and an intricate 
pattern of cables and guy wires and ropes crosshatched them. A team of 
seamen were closing the cargo hatch just below, and he could see into an 
orderly hold which seemed to contain, among other things, several hundred 
cases of Tennessee Sour Mash Whiskey. He pointed to them, said, "Stores for 
the voyage, Kurt?" 

Romer laughed appreciatively. "Nein. No," he said. "They are for import to 
Germany, yes?" 

Mark nodded, chuckling. This is quite a nice ship," he said admiringly. "We 
expected something... well, a little less nicely kept up." 

"Many people make the mistake of thinking travel by freighter must not be 
comfortable," the Chief Steward told him. "This is not so. Come, I will show 
you your kabine. It is directly, how you say, amidships, yes?" 

He and Mark went to where the luggage was stacked, hefted several pieces 
each, and started toward an open companionway which led through the ship's 
superstructure. Ann walked at her new husband's side, saying, "Did you know, 
honey, that according- to Kurt, the M.S. Brunehilde is 180 feet long, weighs 
7800 tons, and was built in 1956? She has full accommodations for twelve 
passengers, but there'll only be two other couples going with us to St. 
Thomas... " She broke off as Kurt swung open the door to Kabine No. 3 and 
bade them enter. Once inside, Ann made an ecstatic sound. "Oh, isn't this 
lovely, honey? Why, it's much, much bigger than we expected - and so nice, 
too!" 

Mark had to share his bride's enthusiasm, for their cabin - which was the 
best the ship had to offer, they having been the first passengers to book 
and therefore having the first choice - was indeed both spacious and 
tastefully decored. The walls were paneled in light-stained mahogany, as 
were the built-on wooden bunk frames - one on either bulkhead. A six-drawer 
combination dresser-and-vanity was attached to the bunk frames against the 
forward wall, and there was a large circular mirror over it. A triangular 
table with two padded, sturdy-looking chairs, a large brocade sofa which 
would pull into a hide-a-bed against the aft wall, two handsome wall lamps, 
a large fan, and a pair of rectangular marine windows with red curtains 
pulled back away from them completed the appointments. 

Kurt opened a door on their left, showing them a tile-floored bathroom with 
a tile shower at one end and two deep washbasins by the door. "Now," he 
said, "I will show you the lounge and dining room, and then I must make 
preparations for our voyage. We will be sailing in - he looked at his watch, 
a wide and expensive gold one of German manufacture - "about forty minutes." 

The dining room and lounge, which were adjacent to one another, were large 
and comfortable, paneled in the same light mahogany and sporting solid, 
relaxing furniture. This was, Ann thought as the Chief Steward led them back 
to their cabin, going to be a truly marvelous trip, a trip she had long 
dreamed of taking - "the Virgin Islands freighter"; why the very phrase had 
an almost adventurous quality to it! And it was made even more wonderful, 
more exciting, because she was going to share it with the man she had 
married in a simple double-ring ceremony in Charlestown, the Boston suburb 
and the home of her folks, that afternoon; with the man she loved. 

Ann sighed with a sense of contentment and well-being. She had never been 
happier than she was at this moment. Of course, there was tonight and the 
conjugal bed - but she had not allowed herself to think about that; yet now 
there was no escaping the fact that this was the day, the night, she would 
finally lose her long-well-guarded virginity. Well, certainly! she chided 
herself. You're married, aren't you? This is why a girl preserves her 
purity, isn't it? To present her innocent body to the man she loves, her 
husband, on their wedding night? There's nothing to be frightened of, for 
heaven's sake! And yet... 

Ann found her mind harking back to her courtship with Mark, and how she had 
felt with him, how at ease she had always been where with other boys and men 
she had always had a tendency to freeze up. One of the boys she had gone 
with when she was just out of high school had called her a "frigid old maid" 
when she had slapped him for French-kissing her and trying to put his hand 
under her sweater. She had been deathly afraid for awhile that that boy was 
right, that she was frigid, but when she had met Mark and gone with him 
awhile, she knew it wasn't true at all. She hadn't let anybody touch her 
because she was saving herself, that was the simple truth - saving herself 
for this man, Mark Lawson. 

She had not slapped Mark when he tried to French-kiss her; in fact, after 
two abortive attempts when she had simply clamped her teeth together, she 
had allowed him to put his tongue in her mouth. It had given her a 
deliciously wicked feeling, and a funny fluttering sensation in her lower 
stomach, and she had discovered that she liked it very much. The same thing 
had been true when he had tried to touch her breasts; at first, she had 
stopped him with a firm hand, telling him softly that it was wrong. And 
then, gradually, she had allowed him to place his hands on her soft, 
perfectly rounded breasts outside her clothing, then under it but just on 
her bra, and then finally on her bare breast though only for just a little 
while. His fingers had felt hot touching her like that, and her nipples had 
grown to diamond hardness, and her breath had come hot and harsh from her 
lungs. She had felt truly excited then, when Mark had been French-kissing 
her and stroking her bare breasts and nipples, stopping just long enough to 
tell her he loved her and then resuming his maddening actions yet again. It 
had been a good feeling, and she had known that she wasn't frigid, wasn't 
frigid at all... 

But then there had been that night three weeks ago, the night of the 
cocktail party which had been given in hers and Mark's honor - and now she 
wasn't so certain of her sexual feelings. Ann remembered that night as if it 
had just happened, remembered every detail, almost every scrap of 
conversation. It had started out so joyously, with champagne punch and 
congratulations and teasing well-wishes and an almost New Year's Eve-ish 
atmosphere. All those present at the party had been close friends of both 
hers and Mark's, mostly from Erhert and Company, and Ann had felt safe and 
secure and able to let her hair down a little. She had drunk more champagne 
punch than she should have, become a little giggly, and gone around putting 
her arms around everybody because she felt so warm and demonstrative. She 
had kissed Mark several times in front of everybody else, warm passionate 
kisses, and she supposed dimly that she might have led him on to think that 
she wanted to have sex that night for the first time - though such a thought 
was the farthest thing from her mind at the party. Anyway, she wasn't naive 
enough to deny that she had been partly responsible for what happened on Old 
Bunker Road, overlooking the Boston Harbor, after she and Mark had left the 
party shortly past midnight. 

The view of the Harbor, as they had driven along Old Bunker Road, had been 
one of jeweled splendor, and she had asked Mark to stop for a few minutes so 
that they look out on all that beauty. He had eagerly agreed, and on a 
shelled-turnout, with only the moonlight and the winking lights rimming the 
Boston Harbor for illumination, Ann had snuggled close to him on the front 
seat and rested her head on his shoulder. 

She felt warm, lethargic, drowsily euphoric. After a time, she had turned to 
Mark and said, "Honey?" 

"Yes, sweetheart?" he had answered. 

"Mark, darling, I want you to kiss me. Kiss me to prove how much you love 
me." 

He had needed no second urging, and Ann supposed that he might have 
misinterpreted her words to mean that she would allow liberties beyond those 
which had been the norm. At any rate, he had begun kissing her, ardently, 
his tongue flicking over her lips, and then pressing between her parted ones 
to find and fuse with her own liquid probe. Ann had felt a deep stirring in 
the pit of her stomach, responding to his lover's kiss by wrapping her arms 
tightly around him and pressing her body to his as he twisted on the front 
seat. 

Before she knew quite what was happening, Mark's hands had been on her small 
but sculpted breasts, lightly, stroking them gently through the material of 
her jersey dress. She had clung to him harder. His touch was so good on her 
nipples, so good... there was nothing wrong in her beloved touching her that 
way. She had fused his tongue with hers more passionately, swirling their 
saliva together in the warm cavern of her mouth, and when his fingers had 
begun unfastening the large buttons on the front of her dress she had made 
no move to stop them. Then his hot, deft hands had the entire bodice open 
and were sliding around behind her to unsnap her bra hooks. The lacy cups 
had been raised, and his hands had held her breasts at last, thumbs tweaking 
the nipples lightly as they had before, bringing the drak pink berries into 
rigid arousal. Oh yes, his touch was so very, very good... 

His tongue had begun to move in and out of her mouth then in an attitude of 
copulation, touching hers, withdrawing, slipping moistly and hotly inside 
her lips again, and Ann had felt the first faint stirrings of alarm. But in 
that moment, his mouth had left hers and moved down over the hollow of her 
throat, along the gentle upsweep of her globular white breast to the turgid 
nipple. He'd taken the tiny nub between his teeth, nipping it lightly, 
causing moaning gasps to bubble from Ann's lips and an ambivalent mixture of 
rising fear and rising passion to seize control of her brain and body. She 
wanted to resist, and yet she hadn't been able to -- and Mark had 
interpreted this to mean she wanted him to continue, to take further 
liberties with her flesh... 

His hands had dropped to her legs at the knees, moving upward to stroke her 
creamy, patrician thighs, pushing up the hem up of her short dress as he did 
so. Ann had felt the rush of cool air play across her naked thighs, across 
the now-moistening protuberance of her pubic mound - and then his hands were 
there, on the downy-soft surface of her inner thighs, fingers almost 
touching her virginal pussy where no man had before gone, and his hungry 
mouth had become feverish, like a starving infant, on her breast. 

"Nooooo!" she had moaned, the fear suddenly overwhelming the desire. "Oh 
God, Mark, no, no! This is wrong, you can't do this... " But Mark, enveloped 
by passion, had paid her words no heed. One of his fingers insinuated itself 
under the legband of her panties, touching the wet, warm, hair-fringed folds 
of her innocent womanhood, and she had gasped with a cry fraught with terror 
and thrill. Still battling in her brain was the inbred concept of sexual 
contact prior to marriage as an unforgivable sin, as opposed to the warm 
delights which her love one's hands and lips were filling her with. 

Mark gently parted the soft flanges of her labia, drawing his finger upward 
along the tight, sensitive furrow to locate the tiny button of her clitoris. 
He began to tremble violently as he stroked the miniature phallus, making 
little purring sounds of lust deep in his throat, and Ann had found herself 
trembling too with the intensity of the conflagration which was being fought 
in her mind. A numbing, aroused warmth was slowly seeping into her brain 
cells, slowly dispelling the fear, and she knew that she would succumb, knew 
that she would give into this man she loved in spite of herself... 

And then she had heard a sibilant sound, an unmistakable sound; Mark had 
unzipped his pants! The fear leapt into the foremost in the struggle of her 
senses, became consummate, and she began to push at Mark's head, push it 
away from her swollen breast, push his hands from between her naked and 
defenseless thighs. 

"Stop it, Mark! Oh, please, stop it, stop it!" she moaned in agonizing 
torment. 

But he was past stopping by then. His finger remained on her clitoris, 
rolling and teasing the nub, and his mouth remained glued around her 
hardened nipple, tongue licking and sucking it maddeningly in his desire. 
Ann's eyes fluttered open as she struggled, and she had stared down at this 
man she loved - stared down at him with a shocked horror for the sight she 
had beheld was uncomprehendingly nightmarish. 

Mark had held his swollen, blue-veined penis in his free hand - and had been 
guiding its angry, throbbing head toward her partially-naked virginity! 

She had screamed deep in her throat, for that first sight of a male organ in 
full erection was so hideous it had remained burned on the retinas of her 
eyes for days after the ordeal. It had been ugly, ugly! And it was so huge, 
so terrifying; how could a woman take anything that large, that awful, 
inside her body and enjoy it? She had been repulsed, and she had fought with 
every ounce of her strength. 

But Mark had only wailed, "Oh God... Ann, darling, darling, I need you. I 
want you so goddamned bad! Oh God! Lucy, I'm going to cum and I want to cum 
inside you my love... " His words had filled her with utter loathing, but 
she had been unable to prevent him from pressing the head of his pulsating 
rod - it had been slimy with his oozing seed, she remembered - against the 
softness of her inner thigh as he endeavored to pull her panties all the way 
down, down to where he could insert the lust-thickened monster into her 
vagina and break her maidenhead like it was no more than an insensitive 
twig. She had squeezed her legs tightly together, feeling his sickening 
penis trembling against her thigh as he tried to work its bloated head into 
her cuntal area, struggling with all her might to free herself from his 
grasp. 

And then - Mark had shouted in a high-pitched wail, "Ann, Ann, Ann darling, 
I'm cumming, cumming, oh Jesus! I'm cumming, sweetheart!" 

His member had seemed to jerk out of control against her thigh, and then Ann 
had felt a great hot flood-tide of his sticky white seed pour forth to 
inundate her thighs, her jet black fleecy pubic hair and her defenseless 
vaginal slit. It had drenched the soft, still quivering folds of her 
womanhood with its searing heat until she felt as if she was being consumed 
by the never-ending torrent of liquid being emitted by the man writhing and 
moaning like an animal over her... 

Afterward they had sat in shameful silence in the car, and Ann had cried 
uncontrollably. Mark had tried to comfort her awkwardly and with guilt and 
shame she had instinctively known was genuine, but she had refused to allow 
him to touch her. She felt soiled, humiliated, as if insects were invading 
the pores of her skin. But when she had calmed down that night after he had 
driven her home, she had realized the magnitude of a man's sex drive was 
great and that she had partially led Mark on to what had happened. When he 
had called her, miserable, the next day, she had accepted his apology, and 
after some strained moments the first couple of times they had been together 
after that, things had returned to normal in the excitement of their 
impending wedding. Still, she now had strong doubts about her ability to 
respond sexually, for every time she thought about making love with the man 
she adored, the image of his gigantic penis came into her mind and 
frightened her terribly. 

Ann was aware that Mark was speaking to her, and she blinked several times, 
snapping out of her reverie. Her new husband was saying, "... the matter, 
sweetheart?" 

"What, Mark?" 

"I said, is something the matter, sweetheart?" he repeated. "You've gone 
pale all of a sudden. Do you feel all right?" There was concern in his 
voice. 

Ann smiled up at him and suddenly everything seemed to be perfect for her 
again. Tonight would work out; things always did, didn't they? She just had 
to be calm and remember that she loved her husband and wanted to please him, 
and that he in turn loved her. Sex was important, but it wasn't 
all-consuming; you just couldn't build a marriage on the physical aspects 
alone. 

The M. S, Brunehilde sailed a half-hour later. Ann and Mark stood at the 
railing on the port side of the boat deck and watched a small tugboat guide 
the big freighter away from the dock, turn her deftly with its flat snout 
bullied up against the ship's bow and then follow her out past the 
breakwater and into the open Atlantic. It was quite a sight, and so were the 
winking and retreating lights of Boston as the Brunehilde swung in a gentle 
curve and headed in a southerly direction. Ann felt the cool summer breeze 
rumpling her long ebony hair, playing across her delicately molded features, 
and she clung lovingly to Mark's strong arm. The air smelled fresh and brine 
crisp, and she breathed deeply of it, sighing happily. 

They stood there at the rail for a long while and Ann wondered perfunctorily 
where the other passengers were. Probably in their cabins or somewhere on 
one of the other decks; well, it didn't really matter, she mused, for she 
would meet them at breakfast the following morning. Kurt had said that it 
was served promptly at eight o'clock in the dining room. 

After awhile, Mark leaned his head close to Ann's and whispered, "Honey, I 
think we went back to the cabin. It's getting late." 

Ann swallowed, experiencing a twinge of the fright she had known earlier. 
Then she firmed her jaw resolutely and looked up at her new husband with her 
eyes shining. "Yes," she agreed softly. "It's time, my darling." 

Hand in hand, they walked down the stairs to the wohndeck and entered the 
companionway. Their cabin door was open, and Ann saw that the hide-a-bed had 
been pulled out and made up with frothy white sheets. Her breath caught in 
her throat momentarily, but she was determined not to show her consternation 
to Mark. She walked proudly to where their luggage, partially unpacked, was 
resting on the two bunk beds, thinking that Kurt had known they were 
honeymooners and had acted accordingly in making up the double instead of 
the two singles. 

She took her frilly black lace negligee from inside one of her suitcases, 
smiled a bride's blushing smile at her new husband and said, "I'll... be 
right back, honey. I'm going to slip into something... more appropriate for 
our wedding night." 

Ann moved past him and stepped into the bathroom. Mark stood there for a 
moment, feeling his breath quicken as he thought about what was shortly to 
transpire. At last!-At last he was going to have this lovely innocent 
creature, this beauteous sculptured treasure he had so long loved and 
coveted! He was going to have her body, have those small ripe tits pressed 
against his chest, have the tender moist pussy opened wide for his 
now-throbbing penis to enter and possess, have that sweet, rounded ass 
driving upwards against him as he stroked into her harder and harder... 

Little droplets of sweat broke out on Mark's forehead. He stepped to the 
hide-a-bed and began to pull off his clothes in a hurried frenzy. Moments 
later, he stood completely nude, his long trembling cock standing out from 
his hirsute loins like one of those thick winch booms he had seen on the 
ship's after-deck. He looked down at his monstrous shaft, saw the little 
drooling droplet of seminal fluid on its swollen glistening head. I should 
put something on, he thought, at least a pair of my pajama bottoms... but to 
hell with it! This is my wedding night, and I'm going to make love to Ann 
for the first time and we both know it. So propriety be damned... Christ! My 
balls are like two lead fishing sinkers, hanging there... I've got a load 
built up like none in my life because I've waited so long for this night, so 
long for Ann's magnificent body to be mine, so long, so long... 

He reached up and clicked off the wall lamps and the overhead light, leaving 
the cabin bathed in soft silvery moonshine which streamed in through the two 
undraped marine windows; it was almost as bright as a diffused indirect 
lighting system would have made it. Then he slipped between the sheets, 
dropping one of his hands down to stroke his hardened penis tantalizingly as 
he waited for his bride to come out of the bathroom. Little tingling 
sensations flowed through his turgid shaft as he toyed with the hammerhead 
rod, made his balls ache with pent-up fury. 

Hurry up, he thought, come on, Ann, hurry up! Jesus, you don't know how long 
I've waited for this moment... Dimly, Mark realized that he was losing 
control of himself, that he was allowing total carnality to envelop him. He 
took a ragged breath, removing his hand from his burgeoning genitals. Take 
it easy, he cautioned himself. Don't go letting passion get in the way of 
your sanity. You have to be tender, gentle, with your new bride... she's a 
virgin, after all, and you have to realize that. The last thing you want to 
do, the very last thing, is to destroy your relationship with some 
uncontrolled act committed in the heat of frenzy and desire... 

Mark took several deep lungfuls of the cool ocean air, and he felt himself 
calming down somewhat. It would be all right now; he would conduct himself 
like a husband with a new and virginal bride ought to on his wedding night 
-gently, lovingly, educatingly. He would - The sound of the bathroom door 
opening jerked his head in that direction, and the sight which his dark eyes 
feasted upon shattered all of his rational thoughts. His hand returned to 
his swollen cock reflexively, began to stroke it beneath the sheets and his 
breath spewed raggedly once again from between his parted lips. 

Ann stood there, not three feet from him, one hand resting on the bulkhead. 
She was smiling shyly, dressed only in the sheer black lace negligee; the 
moonlight made the wispy garment completely transparent, and Mark could see 
each sensuous detail of her nakedness beneath it. Her small round 
pink-nippled breasts pushed the front of the negligee out in high splendor; 
the flat plane of her stomach with its tiny navel indentation sloped smooth 
and alabaster white to the perfectly symmetrical triangle of her dark black 
pubic triangle below. Her sublimely columnar legs, so magnificently in 
proportion to her tiny fragile body, were slightly parted, and Mark imagined 
he could see the glistening virginal slit at their apex. Her cunt, so rich 
and pink, so tight and coy, so delicately hair-fringed - waiting, just 
waiting for his invading cock, all his to possess and play with at his will. 

And suddenly, Mark's brain was transformed into a seething cauldron of 
flaming lust. Nothing else mattered to him in that moment - not gentleness, 
not tenderness, not love - nothing else mattered but plunging his aching 
fevered prick into that tantalizing innocent flesh. He saw her not as his 
sweet lovely Ann but as a woman of the flesh, a cunt, a magnificent cunt 
which he legally owned and which he had to have right now at all costs! 

He had to fuck her! 

"Mark... " Ann whispered, tentatively stepping forward to the edge of the 
bed. "Mark, my darling, I... I'm ready for you." 

With a cry that was almost animalistic ripping from Mark's muscled throat, 
he reached up and caught her about the waist and pulled her down beside him 
on the bed. "So long, I've waited so long for you!" he panted, his hot 
breath spewing into her face, frightening her as he clutched her soft 
resilient body to his own. 

"Mark!" she cried, not comprehending. "Mark, honey, please . ., ! Be gentle, 
Mark... " But her words fell on lust-deafened ears. He clamped her to the 
bed with one hand and maneuvered the other rapaciously over the tender 
supple contours of her soft young body, squeezing her breasts spasmodically 
through the negligee, leaving red marks on the succulent flesh. 

"Mark!" Ann cried out in fright, trying to struggle free of him. "Mark! 
You're hurting meee!" 

But he was past all reason now. His hand bunched the negligee at her throat, 
jerked back violently; there was a shredding sound and the thin garment came 
away in his clawing fingers, leaving Ann lying before him completely nude. 
He cast the remains from him, his hot eyes feasting on her trembling flesh, 
and then his hands returned to her breasts, pinching the tiny coral nipples 
until they stood firm and erect. And then his mouth dropped greedily to 
engulf them, and he chewed hungrily at their tips, licking voraciously the 
chaste pliant flesh with his tongue. His hands crawled over her pubic mound, 
dipped between her legs, cupped and squeezed her pure wet pubic mound with 
cruel fingers. 

"Oooohh!" Ann cried out in mortified horror, flailing her head from side to 
side. "Mark... have you gone... gone insane? Oh God, what are you doing... 
to me? Mark, Maarrrkk!" 

He held her wildly straining body helplessly pinioned to the bed, 
imprisoning her with his weight like a great stone upon her bosom. Her long 
black hair was thrashing almost insanely from side to side beneath him, her 
lovely face twisted grotesquely in terror. Her wide-open eyes stared up at 
the lust-contorted caricature of the man she loved, had married, and her 
brain screamed uncomprehendingly: This can't be happening, it can't, it 
can't! This can't be Mark, my sweet gentle Mark, the wonderful man I 
married, doing these awful things to me! 

Suddenly, Mark moved over on top of his new bride, forcing himself brutally 
between her slender legs, his hips falling heavily to wedge her thighs into 
a wide-splayed position, securing her jerking buttocks to the bed. The soft 
downy fleece of her pubic hair brushed teasingly against his throbbing cock, 
inciting him to unintelligible babblings of frenzied uncontrollable lust 
which drowned out her low tortured cries of fear and terror. He placed his 
knees strategically to hold her open to him, grinding his pelvis hard into 
her defenseless squirming crotch. The hollows of her thighs jerked 
spasmodically, drawing his hand between them like some powerful magnet; then 
he clutched his cock, and it worked up and down fiendishly until he split 
the moist, tight slit of her cunt with his prick's swollen head. Mercilessly 
then, it discovered the snug, undefiled opening to the soft warm passage 
between her legs, poised there... 

And then he rammed forward! 

"AARRRGGGHhhuummm!" Ann screamed in reaction to the terrible fiery pain 
which his monstrous entrance of her virginal orifice had elicited. She felt 
her hymen tear as if it were a butterfly's wing in the jaws of a brutish 
dog, felt the blood pour down between her legs as Mark flexed his hips and 
drove his great prick between the fleshy moist cuntal lips and with a deep 
groan, thrust it all the way forward into her quivering pussy. Her legs 
jackknifed out wildly in a crazed effort to escape the unexpected barbaric 
implement of torture impaling her. But it only served to worsen her 
position, and Mark heard the guttural screech of further pain which came 
tumbling piteously from deep in her throat as his rock-hard cock battered 
deeper and deeper into her warm yielding flesh. At last their pelvic areas 
collided with a resounding slap, signaling triumph to Mark's passion-crazed 
brain. His thick shaft lay completely submerged in the secret recesses of 
her belly, the head resting against her cervix and the warm wet walls of her 
unwilling cunt clasped tightly around the shaft's full pulsating length. 

"Mark! My God... uuuhh!" Ann screamed, but it was a helpless protest, a vain 
one. Nothing could stop Mark now, nothing except release of the tremendous 
load of semen which weighted his heavy balls. The twin blocks of lust 
slammed against her moist flesh as he withdrew his giant rod and plunged 
forward again, withdrew and plunged, withdrew and plunged. Faster and faster 
his pelvis slammed downward against the sweating defenseless loins of his 
bride without giving her womb the opportunity to adjust itself to the size 
of his driving cock. There was nothing for him in that moment but cumming, 
cumming, cumming... 

And then he was there and his cock was jerking wildly in her soft- elastic 
pussy as he bucked and heaved above her; great billows of heat swirled 
through his loins as he emptied his balls of his seed as the molten cum 
raced along the length of his cock and exploded inside the virginal belly of 
his young wife - again and again and again, a never-ceasing flow of liquid 
fire filling her chaste cunt, despoiling it with its lusting intensity, 
overflowing it to pool with the blood between her legs. 

"Honey... honey... honey... honey!" Mark chanted mindlessly as he came, his 
fingers digging into her shoulders. Then he jetted forth the last spurt of 
his fiery cum into her pussy and collapsed over her, pinning her to the bed. 
His rapidly deflating prick slipped from the sheathing warmth of her 
violated innocence with an obscene sucking sound, trailing a gossamer strand 
of semen across her virginal white thigh like the trail of a snail as he 
rolled off of her. 

A long long time later, Ann lay staring up at the ceiling, unable to move 
under the weight of his body pressed close to hers, and his arm flung across 
her stomach. In a hurt, terrified voice, a voice filled with despair, with 
shattered dreams and illusions, she whispered into the night, "Why, Mark? 
Why did you take me that way? Why did you... rape me? Why weren't you 
gentle, Mark?" 

And in a voice choked with the shame and misery of returning sanity, he 
answered softly, contritely, "I... I guess it was because I've waited so 
long for you. I... I know it must have been horrible, darling, but I just... 
lost control, that's all. Please forgive me, Ann. Please, honey, I do love 
you." 

"I don't know," she answered. "I don't know if I can forgive you, Mark." 

"Oh God! Ann, you have to believe that I'm sorry! It won't happen again that 
way, I promise you! Please, darling... " He lay close to her, touching her 
timidly, kissing her hair. She said, "I want to sleep now, Mark," in a dull 
voice. "I... I don't want to talk about it anymore tonight." 

"All right," Mark said softly. "We'll just forget it happened, sweetheart. 
Can't we do that? Can't we forget that I... lost my head with desire for 
you?" 

I don't know, Ann thought. Tonight was a crucial time, Mark. I came to you 
in love and gentleness, and if you had taken my virginity the same way I 
might have lost all my fears, my inhibitions about sex. But now, this way... 
Well, I don't know if I'll ever want to make love again with you... 

With a softly whispered good night to this man who had violated her, this 
man she still deeply loved, a confused Ann Lawson rolled over and silently 
cried herself to sleep. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Breakfast was a gleaming silver and frost white tablecloth affair. As Ann 
entered the dining salon, her eyes were brightened from the spotless 
settings, and for the first time since she had rolled over from Mark the 
night before, she felt that possibly the trip would be enjoyable. 

Kurt, the heavy-set steward who had greeted them when she and Mark first 
boarded, approached, a wide smile on his face which showed the two gold 
teeth in his mouth. "Guten morgen," he said in his pleasantly rich voice. 
"You slept well? Gut, gut. Come this way, please." 

Without bothering for answers, he beckoned toward one of the two long 
tables. The tables were exactly the same, both seating six with comfort, but 
one was for the captain, his wife, the chief mate, the chief engineer and 
their wives. It was by the set of port-holes which perforated one wall and 
which allowed a panoramic view of the bow and ocean. The table which Kurt 
pointed to was under a large oil mural depicting a busy harbor scene. 
Already four people were sitting at the table, and they looked up 
expectantly as the Lawsons approached. 

A small shiver of fright passed through Ann as it always did whenever she 
had to meet people she didn't know. She hesitated, brushing back a strand of 
her coal-black hair, sure that these strangers would be able to read in her 
face what had so grotesquely happened the night before. She had looked in 
the mirror this morning, but she hadn't been able to spot any changes in her 
features, and yet, wasn't it said that when a girl did IT for the first 
time, everybody could tell? 

Mark, used to her shyness from previous times, leaned over and whispered, 
"Come on, you're going to have to meet them sometime. Don't be rude." 

Don't be rude! she gasped inwardly. Of all the people to talk of manners, he 
was the last one who - And then she found herself being introduced, and the 
two men of the foursome standing to shake her hand. 

"My name is Vic Garret," the first gentleman said, "and this is my wife, 
All." 

Vic seemed like a nice enough person, thought Ann in a quick judgment. He 
was tall, taller than Mark but. not as broad-shouldered, and more polished, 
as more befitting his age, which looked to be about thirty-five or so. His 
hair was dark and wavy as though his blood was Latin, and very shiny, and he 
had a well-clipped moustache along his upper lip. Ann didn't care for 
moustaches as a rule, but on him she decided it seemed to enhance his aura 
of suaveness. He was dressed immaculately, like an ad for ship-board life 
out of Esquire in an Italian polo shirt of varied yellow stripes, matching 
slacks and dark slip-on shoes. His deep tan was enhanced by his color 
choice, making his skin look like burnished copper. 

Ali, his wife, had the same golden hue to her skin and her short cropped 
hair. She wore a simple white jersey pullover and white slacks, and her tiny 
feet were encased in satin gold slippers. The slacks were tight, as tight a 
pair as either Ann or Mark had ever seen on a woman, highlighting her rich 
thighs and full well-rounded buttocks as she sat, and for a crazy moment, 
Mark thought he could make out the narrow line of her cunt as the pants 
stretched over her vaginal lips and inside. Her breasts mushroomed the 
jersey like they were miniature circus tents, and they seemingly bobbed 
freely as she moved her torso to smile at them, and again Mark couldn't help 
the erotic thoughts about her. Was this woman not wearing a bra? Is that all 
her flesh which so symmetrically pushed the top out, and was that faint 
ridge the seams of her cups or the tight berry nipples? 

"I'm pleased to meet you both," Ali said. Her voice flowed like warm honey, 
soft and purring, and her lips glistened from some inner moistness. She was 
the essence of femininity Mark thought crazily, a goddess of sensuality, and 
in spite of his deep and abiding love for Ann, his genitals responded to her 
pulchritude with a pang of growing interest. 

Ann couldn't help but feel a little spiteful toward Ali, for she knew 
instinctively what kind of effect the woman was having on her husband. God 
knows he didn't need any help, she thought, he's satyr enough without 
further coaxing... She smiled prettily at Ali anyway, and then turned to the 
other couple. 

"I'm Michael Holt," the man said. He was shorter and older than Vic Garret 
and had none of the polish. His hair was thinning, and he had cut the 
remainder short to de-emphasize his baldness, and while he had probably been 
just as muscular at one time, age had lowered his massiveness to his 
stomach. He wore a charcoal gray sweatshirt and a pair of tartan plaid 
bermuda shorts, and his stocky legs stuck out of the shorts like hairy 
posts. Yet he had an infectious grin and a certain easygoing manner which 
appealed to Ann as though he was a lovable old teddy bear one could drag 
anywhere. 

"Mike isn't too good at remembering to introduce me," the other woman said. 
"I'm Harriet Holt, and please sit down before the meal gets cold." 

Harriet was a perfect mate for Mike, Ann thought as she slid a chair back 
and then pulled herself to the table. Sort of plain looking with mouse-brown 
hair, but with a touch of spit and fire which would make her interesting to 
talk to. Her light blue dress was of the design which never goes out of 
style, and her form wasn't as good as it once was, but then that sort of 
made up for Miss Va-va Voom on the other side of the table with her jutting 
breasts and swaying hips... 

Ann caught herself as she began to mentally rack Ali Garret again. What was 
the matter with her? She never reacted to a lovely woman like that before... 
why this odd feeling of jealousy all of a sudden? Had it something to do 
with last night, perhaps? Was she bitter over Mark's rough and bestial 
lovemaking, and today she felt resentful towards sex? Or... was she angry at 
herself, at her inability to respond, the way Mark had shouted at her? Was 
the sight of this obviously sensual woman acting upon her like a red flag 
before a bull? 

No... no... That couldn't be it! her mind cried out in rebellion. Ann turned 
to her husband who was busy talking to Vic Garret about New York traffic. 
No, I was right last night! Look at the way he's got one eye pasted on Ali. 
His expression is almost... almost lewd! 

Mark couldn't help comparing Al's musky sultriness to his own wife's 
virginal sweetness. Now THERE was a piece all right. Ali wouldn't turn him 
away like a cold fish and then just lay there, a dead person. He could tell 
she was the kind of woman that loved cock... and he would bet anything that 
Vic got one hell of a lay when he was in bed with her... He blushed 
slightly, his corrupt ideas making him embarrassed. No use harboring any 
more lewd thoughts, as nothing was going to happen between him and this Ali 
creature... 

The breakfast was in six servings, starting with rolls and butter then 
juice, then on through eggs, porridge, fruit and a cheese platter. These 
German freighters really had the food! By the end of the meal the Lawsons 
were well acquainted with the Garrets and the Holts who, it turned out, had 
known each other in New York for some time. Vic Garret was a real estate 
broker who owned a number of small, nondescript hotels and apartment houses. 
The Holts managed three of his houses, and when Garret had said that he and 
Ali were planning to go to the Virgin Islands for a little vacation, Mike 
talked him into going by the slow means of a freighter and really relaxing, 
and then it ended up that the Holts went too. 

"There's a lot to be said for traveling by freighter," Mike said over 
coffee. "You get a sense of distance this way. By plane, you're shuttled 
into a narrow seat, served TV dinners by plastic waitresses, and suddenly 
you're there. A friend of mine went to the Canary Islands, and when I asked 
them where the islands were, he said he had no idea, since he had flown 
there." 

"Of course you don't see many young people on ships any more," noted Vic. 
"Always in a hurry. I was a little surprised to find out that you two were 
the other passengers, in fact." 

"Well," admitted Mark," We probably would have gone by jet, except... well, 
it's our honeymoon." 

"No!" Mike exclaimed. "Did you hear that, Harriet?" 

"Of course I did," his wife said. "I'm right here, aren't I?" She turned to 
Ann. "I think this freighter trip was a wonderful thing to do. Was it your 
idea?" 

Before Ann could answer, Vic said, "This calls for a drink!" 

"What now? At nine o'clock in the morning?" Mark said incredulously. "It's a 
little early, don't you think?" 

"Nonsense!" ejaculated Mike. "Not for a celebratory salute to newlyweds." He 
rose from his chair. "One small toast and then we'll go on deck. What do you 
say?" 

Mark turned questioningly to Ann. "I don't know... " Ann's first reaction 
was to be horrified at the idea of liquor so early in the morning. She had 
never cared for the taste much in the first place, and somehow it sort of 
seemed wrong to drink before sundown, and she was going to decline. Her mind 
was already forming the words, "No, thank you, but you go ahead if you 
want... " when another thought struck her. 

She didn't want to go back to the cabin with Mark! Not after last night. Not 
with the way he had been ogling Vic Garret's wife. She knew what he would 
want to do, and the whole idea of post-breakfast sex revolted her worse than 
the thought of a drink. She remembered when she had awakened this morning 
with Mark's fumbling hands over her naked skin and the feeling she had 
within her as though a thousand crawly insects were all over her body. She 
had feigned sleep until the steward knocked lightly on the cabin door, 
signifying breakfast, and it was too late for Mark to have his way with her. 

He had still wanted to make love to her. He had pleaded for her to not go to 
breakfast and to stay in bed, but she had firmly said she was too hungry and 
had gotten dressed. She shuddered as she recalled how he had looked as he 
arose. 

His long waving penis, purplish and splotched with the web of prominent 
veins along the shaft. It was like an angry snake swaying from his lower 
belly as though it was wanting to strike her and fill her with some 
infectious poison. Mark had been tight-lipped with frustration as he padded 
to the bathroom, getting his childish revenge on her by showing off his 
manhood in such obscene display as he dressed. 

Yes, Ann knew what lay in store for her once the cabin door closed behind 
them, and she wanted no part of it. Not now, not while she was still 
smarting physically and mentally from the rupturing embrace of last night. 
Possibly later, after both she and Mark had time to cool down and she could 
reason with him, convince him sex is too sacred to profane with lust. Far 
better to put off the time when he would take her, would do things that 
would drive them further apart. Even... worse actions to soil her body than 
last night! 

"Yes," she replied in false cheerfulness, "I think a little drink would be 
just the thing. If it isn't too heavy." 

Mark was taken aback by his wife's decision. He frowned and then said to 
himself, what the hell! It might loosen her up a bit, and God knows she 
needed that. I want her... want her responsive and hot beneath my loins, and 
maybe a little alcohol would lubricate those rusty hinges of her pussy! As 
he walked with the others, he vowed that if possible he would get Ann to 
take more than one drink - her usual limit - and see if that would do any 
good. 

With that thought in mind, he sauntered next to Garret, just as the latter 
was leaving the dining room. "Vic," he said, "Vic, I was wondering if you 
would... " he faltered, unsure he should ask. 

"Yes, Mark?" Vic's tone was very friendly. 

"Make the drinks heavy if you can. You know." 

Garret chuckled. "I sure do. A little... help for the bride, right?" He 
patted Mark on the back. "Don't worry. I'll serve some schnapps in that 
case." 

"What's schnapps?" 

"A sort of German gin is as close as I can describe it. It's the national 
drink, if any one could be named, and it's both cheap and deadly. If you're 
not used to it, it can pack a hell of a wallop." 

"How does it taste?" 

"Like distilled kerosene. I'll mix it with tonic water, and it will be nice 
in this hot weather." 

Indeed, Mark had to admit it was nice, as later, he sat in the Garret's 
cabin which was a slightly smaller replica of his and drank the schnapps and 
tonic. The size of his drink was large, but he chalked that up to Garret's 
way of making sure Ann didn't tumble to her potent drink, and besides, he 
liked his drinks with a kick. He could hold his liquor better than most, he 
thought; schnapps or no schnapps. As he enjoyed the strange piquancy of the 
liquor, he decided that the concept for a libation right after breakfast 
wasn't such a bad idea after all. The routine which he had" back on shore 
was broken, and out here with nothing to do, it made no difference when he 
drank or slept or made love... 

The conversation was proving interesting to Ann, and she began to warm 
toward Ali a bit. They discussed television and the raising of kids, which 
none of the women present had, and she found that both women were 
intelligent, witty and sparkling with vivacity. The idea of Ali as a female 
predator soon dwindled and passed from her mind. 

The first drink Garret had given Ann had seemed odd tasting but not 
especially strong. She had asked for it to be weak, and Garret had winked 
and said that what he was pouring was a harmless European liquor. The talk 
continued, and so congenial was the company, and so little did she want to 
leave and return to the cabin that she didn't object when Garret pressed 
another drink in her hands. Unconsciously she began to unwind from the 
tenseness of her emotional anguish and she began to relax. She was not one 
who showed her emotions but rather preferred to bottle them up inside the 
way her mother had over the years. Not once did Mother complain or cry in 
spite of the wretched treatment Father had heaped upon her person. She had 
always kept an exterior of calmness until at last she had had a nervous 
breakdown and had to be hospitalized. 

As she drained the second drink Garret was at her elbow. "Another, perhaps, 
Ann?" 

"I really shouldn't... " she began, but she handed him her glass. The 
morning continued, and without realizing it, Ann found herself becoming more 
relaxed and carefree than she had been since the wedding. She began to truly 
enjoy the company of her new husband and her new shipboard friends. She 
wasn't conscious of the schnapps' insidious action on the nerve centers of 
her brain or the marked effect it began to have on her control. 

Lunch seemed to come almost immediately. Ann was surprised that the 
one-drink celebration had turned into a whole morning. Both the Lawsons went 
to lunch well-inebriated, but neither minded. They were having too good a 
time! Unfortunately, Ann ate too much of the rich food, and between that, 
the over-abundance of the schnapps and the rolling sea, she began to get 
sick. 

"Mark... " she said as they left the dining room, "Mark, I'm beginning to 
feel... woozey." She frowned. "I... I think I had better return to the cabin 
and lie down for awhile." 

"Oh too bad, dearest. Here," he offered, "let me help you." 

The idea that Mark might want to make love now with her feeling dizzy and 
uncomfortable on top of everything else, repulsed her. "No, no, you go on," 
she quickly replied. "I'll be... just fine... in awhile." 

"If anybody should accompany you, Ann, it should be I," said Garret. "After 
all, I feel responsible." 

"But - " Her protest went unheeded, and before either she or Mark could stop 
Garret, he had placed his hand on Ann's elbow and was guiding her along the 
passageway in the direction of her cabin. 

Mark, befuddled by the schnapps, paused uncertainly then blurted out, "I'll 
be in the Garret cabin if you want anything." 

Garret turned and smiled at Mark, assured and fully in charge now. "She'll 
be all right," he said smoothly. "She just needs to rest for a few moments." 

Ann allowed herself to be escorted to her cabin with a mixture of 
trepidation and excitement. Vic is a very handsome man, she thought, 
courteous and thoughtful - not at all like Mark. He is refined, and it 
shows. He had been more than a gracious host today, for whenever he looked 
at her he seemed to smile in such a way as to make her think he really 
appreciated her presence there with him; that she somehow made the morning 
for him and that it was just a little secret between the two of them. Never 
a pass, never the slightest overture or remark. Just the smile... 

It made up for Mark's crude leerings. He had been falling all over that Ali 
and Ali was plainly embarrassed by it. She was too nice a woman not to be. 
What ails the man? Ann asked herself. What would cause Mark to act so 
inconsiderately of her feelings? It was as if... as if he were another man 
now that he was married and that the Mark she had for so long dated and 
loved had been replaced by a complete stranger. 

Ali seemed to lead the way back to her cabin even though she was slightly in 
back of Mark. Her slacks brushed up against him, the whisper of cloth 
against cloth and the warmth of her body a tantalizing teaser to him. He 
shook his head. It couldn't mean anything, he told himself; just a 
mistake... and then her firm ripe breasts slid along his upper arm, and he 
felt her hot sweet breath in his ear. Christ! What was she doing? Did she 
know that she was arousing him? 

For indeed, as she moved and he pondered those movements, Mark's unsatisfied 
cock began to grow involuntarily. He mentally commanded his erect member to 
go back down as it tented the front of his trousers with embarrassing 
hugeness, but it disobeyed and leaped to greater turgidity. He knew that the 
back of his neck was burning red with his lewd thoughts, and as they entered 
the cabin again, he told himself over and over that this mental cheating on 
his new bride was wrong. 

He rubbed his forehead as he slumped to the couch. "I... guess I had more of 
that schnapps than I should have," he stammered. "I'd better rest for a 
moment myself." 

Ali sat down beside him. "Oh," she purred, "that's such a shame." She placed 
her hand on his chest and rubbed him lightly as a mother might a sick child. 
She moved slowly, lovingly, and yet Mark was no child... the pressure of her 
gently kneading fingers were working magic wonders down below in his groin. 
His now bloated penis suddenly ached to be released, and billows of swirling 
desire rose through his thighs, and his testicles flamed with sexual need. 
He didn't know what to do, what to say. The schnapps had fogged his 
inhibitions and reasonings, and he was stupefied by her odd, borderline 
advances. 

The Holts also said they were sorry to hear of his bad feelings. "We were 
going to go up to the boat deck and play shuffleboard," Harriet said. 

"You all go ahead... " he said. 

"Three can't play, Mark," Ali said, "So I'll stay here with you." 

"Fine," Mike Holt nodded, and then he smiled at Ali. Was he also winking? 
the crazy question darted across Mark's numbed brain. "See you shortly!" He 
and his wife went not to the regular cabin door, but to Mark's surprise, 
opened the door which was in the middle of the front bulkhead... a door 
which Mark had assumed led to a closet. Instead it opened into the adjoining 
cabin, the Holt's, and he could see that their cabin was similar but smaller 
than his and the Garret's. 

"Sometimes a large family books on the ship, and this way the two cabins can 
become one large room," explained Ali at seeing - his momentary confusion. 

Mark sat back, closing his eyes, the room drifting around him as the 
schnapps destroyed his will to resist Ali's ever increasingly desirous 
fondlings. He sunk slowly on this fleecy cloud her fingers caused, and her 
soothing words were a further euphoria. Surely there is no harm after all, 
in letting her rub my stomach. It feels so good... so good... what is she 
saying about my chest? I can't quite make it out... 

"Mmmm, you have such a strong body, Mark. So young and strong and virile." 
Her hands dipped lower, circling and swooping like seagulls. She was rubbing 
his lower abdomen, past his belt line, and then she said in a throaty 
whisper, "Do you still have that hard-on, Mark? Is your big prick still up?" 

Her electrifying words shattered the dreamlike quality of the schnapps 
induced stupor. He jerked upright, almost sober. "What? What did you say, 
Ali?" 

"You heard me." Her hand reached down and cupped his groin in one sudden 
motion, and her eyes lowered to her massaging grip, and she made a mock pout 
with her pink moist lips. "I knew I got your cock hard when I was walking 
with you. Why do you think I was rubbing you just now that way Mark?" 

"But I... I... " She laughed softly. "I could read your thoughts, too. You 
want to screw me, don't you? You were thinking how good it would feel to put 
that monster penis of yours into my hot pussy and fuck me until you shot 
your cum inside me. Isn't that right?" 

Shocked immobile, Mark could only stare at her, his mouth wide. His prick, 
titillated by her experienced gropings, was throbbing wildly, nearly 
bursting his underwear. He groaned involuntarily and squirmed slightly under 
her touch. Why is she talking this way? Is she so oversexed that she can't 
control her passions, even with strangers? She must be a crazy nymphomaniac 
to act like this! 

"You haven't answered me, Mark," Ali teased, her breath like hot fragrant 
jasmine upon his fevered brow. "You would like to fuck me, wouldn't you?" 

"For... for God's sake, Ali! Control yourself!" he gurgled. "You don't know 
what you're saying!" 

"Oh yes I do!" she sighed huskily. Then she leaned forward and her lips 
touched his cheek and her tongue was like a molten firebrand as it traced a 
line around his own lips. Mark was trembling now, trembling and staggering 
from the impact of this mind-blowing situation. He could feel the rising 
heat of lust boiling from his genitals, caused by her fingers, her lips, her 
erotic words. 

"Fuck me... fuck me... fuck me... " her sonorous voice commanded. "I want 
you to fuck me, Mark." 

"No... he protested, but his strangled words lacked conviction even to his 
own ears. This is wrong! All wrong! his seared brain cried out. Stop this 
now, before it's too late! 

"No," he groaningly repeated, "Ali, I won't... " Ali only chuckled at the 
feeble protest, and she squeezed and stroked his penis and testicles through 
his pants more passionately. Then she said, "Watch me, Mark! Watch while I 
take my clothes off!" 

In spite of his inner torment, Mark found that he was rooted to the couch, 
unable to do anything except stare open-mouthed at this luscious creature of 
Lucifer's harem, and she slowly, oh ever so slowly, got to her feet. She 
moistened her shiny red lips with the tip of her pink tongue, her eyes lit 
with some weird illumination of lust, and then crossing her arms in front of 
her, she lifted the jersey up... up... over her breasts and over her hair. 
She threw the garment to one side and stood for a moment, letting Mark's 
fascinated gaze rest upon the twin spheres of her breasts. Her tits were 
proud, jutting up and out like cornucopias of plenty, their burnish-hued 
areolas pinpointed by berry-red nipples which were hardened and erect. 

She brought her palms up along her sides and cupped each breast tenderly, 
molding the rich and vibrant flesh with her fingers, tweaking the nipples to 
marble with her nails. "You want to kiss my breasts, don't you, Mark," she 
sighed invitingly, never taking her smoldering eyes from his face, "You want 
to bury your face between them and kiss and lick and suckle... " Mark's 
throat burst with an involuntary moan, and in spite of his better senses, 
his hands dipped to his sweltering loins, and he pressed the now-burgeoning 
gonads tightly with his fingers. "Please... " he begged, "Please don't... " 
Her only answer was to laugh provocatively and then unzip her shorts. As she 
opened them down along her side, she continued her masterful incantations of 
lust. "I don't need bras, Mark... I know you saw that at breakfast this 
morning. I felt your burning eyes on my breasts, and that is when I wanted 
you. I want men who are strong and take what they need... and I'm what you 
need, Mark... I'm the kind of full-blooded woman you need... " With the same 
tantalizing slowness, she lowered the skin-tight shorts, provocatively 
slipping them over naked thighs, and then they fell of their own accord down 
her finely sculptured legs to pool around her feet. She kicked her slippers 
off as she discarded the pants, and then she stood completely naked before 
him. "And panties, Mark... I hate to wear panties. I don't like to wear- any 
more than is absolutely necessary. Do you know that I never wear anything 
around the house? How would you like a woman to always be naked whenever 
she's near you, always ready to do as you wanted. Think about it... think... 
" No... no, I mustn't think about that! How can I not think of it and stop 
myself from making love to her? She's driving me wild... maybe it's a dream, 
a wet dream, and I'll wake up and find I am next to my bride... 

"And my cunt," Ali said. She dipped her hands to the thin triangle of blonde 
curls and stroked it lovingly as though it was a beautiful work of art. "You 
want to kiss my cunt, too, don't you?" 

"Noooo... " Mark moaned. And then the final fluttering of resistance left 
him and his pagan manhood asserted itself, and almost with bestial 
compulsion, he heard himself cry out, "Yes! Yes! I mean yes, I want to kiss 
your cunt! I want to! Oh God! Forgive me!" 

"Hurry up and undress then, lover. I'll let you kiss me between the legs... 
lick the honey of my pussy... " And this time the rising eroticism overcame 
Ali. She had done her job too well, and she moaned with the heat of her own 
sexual froth. "Hurry!" 

Mark was standing now, his hands fumbling with his belt. "But... but your 
husband! What if he should... ?!" 

"Don't worry, lover," she gasped in reply. "We'll use the Holt's cabin. They 
won't be back for hours. I can guarantee that." 

Mark tore at his clothes, his mind completely blanked to all but this 
provocative female animal before him. The billowing heat of his cock and 
balls burned the last scrap of sanity. His temples throbbed with the 
combination of schnapps and passion - was that damned liquor an aphrodisiac, 
for Christ's sake? - but nothing mattered except that luscious cunt and the 
release of his bloated sac of sperm. Not his wife, not her husband, nothing! 
He had to have her! He had to taste and smell that delicious looking vagina, 
and then he was going to fuck her... 

"Fuck!" he yelled out at her as he threw his underpants on the couch. "Fuck 
you! I'm going to fuck you!" His penis stood out from his thick thatch of 
pubic hair like a Turkish rapier, its tip an arrowhead of shining desire. A 
thick droplet of clear seminal lubrication appeared at the single little 
eye, and his balls hung distended from the weight of the love juice which 
was soon to follow that drop. His eyes were glassy. 

"Ahhh," Ali murmured. "That cock of yours, is as big and beautiful as I 
pictured it to be, lover. I know it will feel good in me, sliding in and out 
until my cunt milks the seed of your balls." 

She opened the door and stepped backwards into the Holt cabin, her face 
still mesmerized by his giant prick as it swayed like a fakir's flute does 
in front of a cobra. Her breath was coming in short hard gasps, and her 
fingers once more dipped into the soft warm wet pussy and began to slip into 
the fluted channel of her vagina. She turned and threw herself on the double 
bunk which was against the outside wall of the Holt's cabin at an angle 
which cut off the view of the Garret cabin almost entirely. Mark, incensed 
beyond his own comprehension, staggered after her, giving the door a cursory 
slam, but at this point not caring whether it shut their carnal embracings 
from the world's eye or not. All he wanted was her! 

Ali squirmed on the bed, moving so that she was in the middle, and then she 
splayed her legs, and the entire spectrum of her cunt was open to Mark's 
blazing gaze. It was magnificent, he thought as he approached, a perfectly 
molded valley of lust with its hair-forested mountains and the soft pink 
valley of her vagina and the erect bud of her quivering miniature phallus. 
He could almost taste her clitoris between his teeth, and the way it would 
tingle as he flicked its tiny nob with his tongue... he groaned and climbed 
on the bed beside her. Never had he been this excited before! 

"Fuck... " he repeated like a crazed animal in heat. 

"No... not yet, my love. First kiss me. Kiss my pussy the way you said you 
would... " She reached her hand down the creamy flesh of her naked front and 
rubbed the side of Mark's sweating cheek - and then wrapped her fingers in 
his hair and pulled his questing mouth down between her open legs. She could 
hear him moaning, and he needed no further urging. He opened his lips and 
pushed hard against the wetness of her hungry dilated pussy as he 
rapaciously tongued her vaginal furrow. Ali squirmed and cried out in 
ecstasy from his sudden contact. His tongue snaked out like an invading 
infidel, lashing the part of her tender flowering folds and branding the 
sensitive inner walls of her vagina with white-hot fire. She jerked forward 
at the teasing thrust and then lay back and ground her buttocks into the 
mattress as her vulva was bathed by Mark's swirling face. Her cuntal passage 
contracted and relaxed, opened and closed like a squeezing hand around his 
tongue, threatening to imprison it forever. 

Suddenly he stopped. He raised his head and grinned mesmerically up the 
writhing expanse of her body at her. . 

"Don't stop... " she moaned. 

"I won't," he promised, and dipped back to the seething aromatic slit 
running between her widespread thighs. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Ann went into the bathroom as soon as Vic Garret had escorted her back to 
her and Mark's cabin. She washed her face with some cold water from the tap 
and ran a comb through her long black hair. She felt sticky from the heat, 
and imagined that she was giving off an offensive odor in spite of the 
deodorant and feminine hygiene spray and Eau de Navets, an expensive French 
cream sachet she had used upon arising that morning. 

She stepped out into the cabin and crossed to the six-drawer dresser between 
the two wall bunks. Garret, sitting in one of the chairs at the table, 
smoking a cigarette, said in a bright voice, "Feeling a little better, Ann?" 

"A little," she admitted, although her mind was still somewhat woozy from 
the schnapps she had consumed. "I'm going to change into some fresh 
clothing." 

"That's a good idea," said Garret. "How's your stomach, by the way?" 

"It feels as if it's curdled," she told him ruefully. "I probably should 
take an Alka-Seltzer or something... " 

"I've a better idea," Garret said smoothly. 

"Oh? What's that?" 

"I know of just the thing to settle that queasiness. Best remedy in the 
world for an upset stomach. I'll ring for Kurt and have him bring some down 
while you're changing; we've taken this cruise before - this very boat, in 
fact - and I know they have some on hand." 

"Well... " said Ann dubiously, but the ship seemed to pitch slightly at that 
moment, enhancing her nauseousness. She said quickly then, "All right, Vic, 
if you think it'll help." 

"I can practically guarantee that it will bring results," Garret grinned 
with easy assurance. 

Ann located a cool, sleeveless summer dress with a short skirt and a fresh 
change of panties and bra. She smiled hesitantly at Garret as she stepped 
past him and entered the bathroom, closing and locking the door with an 
automatic gesture behind her. 

Garret watched the easy movement of her smooth rounded buttocks under the 
skirt she now wore with hot, gleaming eyes. His prick seemed to give a 
convulsive leap in his pants. Son of a bitch! he thought eagerly. She's some 
fine little piece, all right. It would really be nice to get my cock into 
that tight little cunt of hers, damned nice. The way she looked at breakfast 
this morning, it's a cinch that she was a cherry before last night... and 
the way she walked proves that old Mark really threw the balls to her. Hell, 
I don't blame him; if she was my woman, I would have fucked her until she 
couldn't walk! 

Garret leaned forward to stub out his cigarette, then got to his feet and 
crossed to where an assistance buzzer was set into the wall by one of the 
two closets in the cabin. He depressed it and then stepped to the door, 
opening it and moving out into the companion way. Moments later, the fat and 
smiling Chief Steward, Kurt Romer, appeared. 

In a low conspiratorial voice, Garret said, "A double B&B, Kurt. Right 
away." He winked. 

Romer nodded, and his smile was almost a leer. "As you wish, Herr Garret." 
He hurried off down the companionway. 

Garret grinned to himself, re-entered the Lawson's cabin, and closed the 
door. He resumed his position on the chair and lighted another cigarette. 
B&B, he thought. Brandy and Benedictine. There's no more powerful liqueur - 
or aphrodisiac. It'll settle sweet little Ann's stomach, all right, and put 
some fire into that tight young cunt of hers, too! I'll tell her it's a 
special concoction; she's gullible enough to believe it, and she won't be 
able to taste the alcohol at all... 

His grin widened, and he felt his cock give another jump. If everything went 
according to the norm, then his wife Ali should have managed to get Mark 
Lawson into a compromising position by now. Ali was a damned alluring woman, 
and you just couldn't refuse her once she turned the charm on you; not if 
you were a normal, red-blooded male, and that's just what Mark Lawson had 
looked to be. Garret had to admit that Ali was probably the most provocative 
woman he had ever known - hell, that was why he had married her in the first 
place! - and that she could fuck like Cleopatra must have fucked. She'd be 
giving old Mark the ride of his young life right about now, he'd have been 
willing to lay odds on that... 

The thought of his voluptuous wife getting fucked by another man made 
Garret's cock harden like it always did when he pictured the scene. Christ, 
but he was hornier than a three-peckered billy goat right now! True, he'd 
thrown a good screw into Ali last night, while they'd been steaming out of 
Boston, and she'd blown him for an hour after that - but that didn't alter 
the fact that there was new quail to be had. And once the scent of untapped 
resources was in his nostrils, then he was like a bloodhound on the trail... 

But he would have to play it cool with this Ann Lawson. She was an innocent 
from the word go, and he would have to be careful that he didn't frighten 
her off. The B&B was assurance of the success of his proposed venture, 
though he had all the confidence many years of experience could instill in a 
swinger like himself... 

There was a knock on the door, and Kurt came in with the double B&B. Tie 
placed it on the table, nodded slyly to Garret, and left as silently as he 
was expected to; he had had the pleasure of being Chief Steward on two other 
voyages which the Garrets had taken in past years. 

Moments later, the bathroom door opened and Ann came out, looking fresh and 
radiant in the cool summer dress. Garret noted cunningly that her eyes were 
still somewhat glazed from the schnapps, however; the B&B was going to do 
the trick, all right, he thought with smug superiority. 

But his voice was soft and disarming as he said, "You look great, Ann. Fresh 
as a daisy." 

"I'm not sure I feel fresh as a daisy just yet," she told him with a rueful 
smile. "My stomach is still all fluttery... " 

"We'll fix that right up," assured Garret, getting to his feet and picking 
up the slender glass of dark bronze liquid Kurt had placed on the table.. 
"Here you go, Ann. Just drink it down, and before you know it you'll be 
ready to take on a pizza with a side order of German potato salad." 

Ann made a face. "Ugh!" she said. She took the proffered glass, staring at 
the contents. "Will this taste bad?" 

"Not at all," Garret said. "It's actually quite good. Trust me, eh?" 

"Okay," shrugged Ann. She lifted the glass to her lips, closed her eyes, and 
drained it in one swallow. She shuddered violently, put the glass down, and 
then smiled weakly at Garret. "Whew! That's strong, whatever it is." 

"Just a little of Dr. Garret's patented snake oil," he chided. "Wasn't bad, 
though, was it?" 

"No, not really." Ann sat down in the chair facing him, declined the 
cigarette he offered her. There was a hot glow in her stomach that was 
spreading rapidly through her body, and her eyes watered. But the 
flutterings in her stomach seemed to have abated somewhat, and she decided 
the concoction Garret had given her was effective after all. I really 
shouldn't have drunk all that schnapps, she thought woozily. I really 
shouldn't have... 

Noticing the effects of the B&B with a satisfied inward smirk, Garret said, 
"If you feel better now, Ann, let's take a walk back to my cabin and join 
Ali and Mark." 

"Well... all right," she said agreeably. "Might as well, I guess. But then 
let's all go up on deck and look at the ocean, okay?" 

"Whatever you'd like," Garret told her. He got to his feet and took her arm, 
helping her up. Ann noticed that she was still walking unsteadily, but her 
stomach felt just fine now; she allowed him to lead her out of the cabin and 
down the companionway and up the stairs to the Garett's cabin on the boat 
deck. 

As soon as Garret had opened the door and looked inside, seeing the sundry 
pieces of clothing strewn about, he knew that Ali had things well in hand - 
or in cunt, he grinned to himself. He guided Ann inside, shut the door, and 
then feigned a concerned frown. "What's all this?" he asked her. 

Ann was having difficulty focusing her eyes, but finally she managed to make 
out the articles of clothing cast about on the floor and on the furniture. 
"Why... why," she stammered, "that looks like the... the clothes Mark and... 
and your wife were wearing!" 

"So it does," Garret said with mock anger. "Come on, let's see what's going 
on around here!" 

He steered Ann across to the connecting door between his cabin and the 
Holts', noting as he approached that it stood slightly ajar, giving a clear 
view of the Holts' wide double bunk. And of the panting, sweating activity 
on its rumpled spread. 

"Holy Jesus Christ!" he whispered. "Look, Ann! My God, look at what's going 
on in there!" 

Again, the young bride had difficulty in focusing her eyes. But then the 
swimming images localized, and she saw what Garret saw. She froze, froze 
into a shocked, hump-backed stance with a small cry of total horror slipping 
involuntarily from her slim throat. It was as if she had had the breath 
knocked out of her, for she was completely incapable of any kind of 
movement, any kind of sound. Her eyes bulged wide, uncomprehendingly. 

The tableau which burned the retinas of her eyes was one of an age-old pagan 
ritual, a ritual known as cunnilingus. Oral-genital contact, a man s face 
pressed between a woman's wide-splayed legs, tongue flicking up and down her 
swollen furrow, in and out of her glistening vagina while she held his 
short, brown hair clenched in her fingers, pressing him tighter there. 
Cunnilingus... all the tittering, blushing, whispered terms for it: going 
down on, eating out, licking pussy, the ultimate French kiss... all of these 
echoed and re-echoed in Ann's terror-shocked brain as she stared at the 
slaving man and jerking woman on the bunk. 

The woman was Ali Garret. 

And the man was Mark, her Mark, her new husband, the man she had fallen in 
love with and married, his face shining wet with Ali's lubricating fluid, 
his tongue dipping and darting and washing, his face contorted mindlessly 
with unbearable lust... 

Ann's mind tried to reject the sickening sight, the unbelievable horror, but 
the moving image remained to sear her eyeballs. She took a half-step 
backward, knowing that she must flee, get away from the disgusting carnal 
abuse which was so flagrantly being enacted before her and the husband of 
the woman on the bunk. But Garret caught her, held her in such a way that 
her eyes remained fastened on the madly twisting couple on the spread. 

"Oooooohhhhhh!" she heard Ali mewl, flailing her short blonde head from side 
to side. "That's it, lover, that's ittt! Oh suck it, suck it, suck it, 
lover, lick my pussy, shove that long hot tongue of yours all the way up my 
flaming cunt...!" 

"Mmmmmmmmmm!" she heard the strangled gasp of her suckling husband reply, 
his hands spreading Ali's thighs yet wider to expose more of her naked loins 
to his slavering face and darting tongue. 

Look at that son of a bitch go! Garret thought. He's really working over her 
cunt with his mouth! Probably the first pussy he's ever gone down on. 
Garret's cock was rigid now as he held Ann's arms tightly, standing just a 
little in back of her; the bulge of his turgid shaft in his trousers swelled 
way out almost but not quite touching her swelling buttocks beneath the 
summer dress. He moved closer, guiding her backward gently, and she didn't 
resist him. She seemed to lean gratefully back against his unyielding body, 
unmindful that her buttocks were now resting against the swelling head of 
his cock, causing it to swell ever larger and emit a spot of seminal fluid. 
The only thing she knew in that moment, the only reality of which she was 
cognizant in her liquor-fogged brain, was the grim and obscene sight which 
assailed her vision. 

Mark, that's Mark, my husband, and he's lying with his face pressed between 
the legs of a woman he's only known for a few hours... kissing her... her 
vagina, licking her between her legs like some vile and perverted animal. Oh 
God, it can't be true, it can't, it can't, it can't! I'm having a nightmare, 
an awful impossible nightmare. 

Garret was holding her more tightly now, moving his erect penis up and down 
along the smooth warm curves of her rounded buttocks. He was breathing 
harshly against her neck, and he knew that she felt neither his cock nor his 
hot breath on her flesh at that moment; but she would, damned right she 
would... He moved his mouth close to her ear, began to intone in soft 
sibilant words, "Look at them, Ann. Look at them in there, look at my wife 
and your husband. Look at the way he's kissing her, Ann, look at the way 
he's kissing Ali between her legs... He's enjoying himself, Ann, he's 
enjoying himself with my wife, kissing her and licking her and sucking 
her... " Shut up, shut up, shut up! Ann's turmoiled brain cried out. She 
tried to put voice to the command, but she found that she was incapable of 
speech. Oh God, why are you talking that way? Can't you see that I know 
the... the filthy things they're doing without your telling me? Have you no 
shame? Dear God, I don't want to watch any more of this, I don't want to 
hear any more, I want to get away, get away... 

Suddenly, Mark pulled his head from between Ali's legs and stared up at her 
with obscene features and glittering eyes. "I'm going to fuck you now!" he 
told her in a strangled gasp, licking her cuntal emissions from his lips 
with his tongue. "My cock is going to burst and I'm going to cum all over 
the bed if I don't! I'm going to fuck you, Ali, fuck you, fuck you, fuck 
fuck fuck fuckkkkkk!" 

"Oh yes, fuck me, Mark! Put your big hard cock in my cunt, shove it into my 
belly, fuck it, lover, cum inside me, cum inside my cunt and my belly!" 

Ann wanted to raise her hands to her ears, blot out the terrible vileness of 
the two lusting people's words, but she was unable to move her arms in 
Garret's vise-like grip. Horrified, she watched Mark raise up onto all 
fours, taking his bloated, blood-enraged penis in his hand as he had done to 
her the night before, and lean forward to tease the angry, hardened head 
over the slippery folds of Ali's pussy, made wet with her juices and his 
saliva. He poised it at the gaping door of her waiting vagina, and then Ali 
levered up, taking the head inside the , pink, petaled lips - and Mark 
hammered down with a brutal thrust of his hips to send his immense cudgel 
flashing the length of her waiting channel, filling it, the hard head 
slamming savagely up into her cervix. 

"Uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhh!" screamed Ali. "Oh yessss, that's it, that's the way to 
fuck me, lover! Give it to me, yes like that, give it to me, fuck my cunt, 
fuck ittttttt!" 

Mark was grunting like a hog as he thrust again and again into Ali's 
upthrust furrow, his huge hairy balls smacking loudly into her moistened 
anal crevice, her buttocks churning wildly as she sought to milk his cock of 
his huge, ever-building load of cum. 

Noooooo! Ann's mind wailed. Please God, don't let me see any more of this 
sickness, don't make me watch another second of it! I'll die if I see any 
more, hear any more! I'll die, I will, I know it! Oh please, I can't stand 
it, I can't stand it! 

But still she couldn't command her body to break free of Garret's grasp; 
still she couldn't do anything but stand and helplessly watch the flagrant 
lovemaking being performed before her young eyes. And behind her, rubbing 
his burgeoning prick up and down over the satiny surface of her buttocks, 
Garret whispered, "Look at them, Ann, watch them. Watch them making love. 
Watch them performing the act of love, Ann. Watch them, watch them, watch 
them... " And suddenly, Ann was watching them - not in the abject horror of 
moments earlier, but hypnotically, feeling strange sensations churning 
through her body, mindless to all but the lewd perverse relationship of her 
husband and Ali Garret. She stared at Mark's long, hard, glistening penis 
sawing in and out of the blonde woman's hungrily clasping vaginal orifice, 
in and out, in and out, and in her ear Garret kept whispering, "In and out, 
in and out, Ann, look at your husband sliding in and out of my wife... it 
must feel good for him and for her, Ann, it must feel so very good for both 
of them, in and out, in and out, in and out... " Then Garret's hands were 
moving on her bare arms, moving up and down the smooth velvety surface from 
wrists to shoulders, and Ann began to tremble under his hands. What's 
happening to me? she thought numbly. Oh, God, what's happening to me? I feel 
so strange, my stomach feels fluttery again but not like I'm going to be 
sick... and my... my vagina seems to be wet and tingling, almost as if... as 
if I was somehow sexually aroused by all this disgusting filth... 

One of Garret's hands left her arm and moved along her sides and across the 
flat, tensed plane of her stomach to poise under the globular swell of one 
of her breasts. And then, slowly, insinuatingly, the palm of his hand moved 
upward to cup her warm, spongy tit, cup it without kneading for a moment and 
then begin to squeeze and manipulate the succulent flesh ..with gentle ease, 
thumb running across the uptilted peak to raise the tiny nipple into 
distended, quivering arousal. 

Ann's liquor-dazed, shock-dazed mind comprehended then, He... he's touching 
my breast, Vic is playing with my breast! No, I have - to stop him, he 
hasn't the right to touch me like that! He... he must be sick, sick as Mark 
and Ali in there, I have to stop him... But she couldn't move; it was as if 
she no longer had control of her own body, was unable to use any of her 
muscles at all; as if her brain was frozen completely. And then she became 
aware of a hardness moving along her buttocks, moving up and down as Mark's 
cock was sliding in and out of Ali in ever-increasing fervor. It... it's 
Vic's penis! My God, his penis is hard, erect, and he's rubbing it along my 
buttocks! Oh God, I must run, run, run and find someone to help me! 

But she remained rigid, her eyes seared by the terrible obscene twistings 
and cries of the couple of the double bunk, her brain a tumbling, confused 
mass of emotions and liquor haze. Garret's hand continued to squeeze her 
breast, was joined by his other hand to cup and knead both tender globes 
while he pressed his erect cock tighter into the soft rounded moons of her 
buttocks, grinding it lewdly into the crevice between them. 

"My wife and your husband, Ann honey," he whispered against her ear. "So 
good, them together, making love, fucking, Ann, that's what they're doing, 
fucking, fucking and liking every second of it, fucking, in and out, in and 
out, it feels good for them the same way my hands on your breasts feel good 
for you, the same way my hard cock feels good for you, Ann I want to do the 
same thing to you that Mark is doing to Ali, to my wife, I want to do the 
same thing to his wife that he is doing to mine... " Noooooooooo! Ann's 
tortured, turmoiled mind howled in confused agony. No, I can't do such a 
thing! The very idea should make me vomit, should make me run, run, but I 
can't run and it doesn't disgust me, sicken me, the way it should... Am I 
crazy? Have the events of the past few minutes caused me to lose my mind? 

Her nipples were quivering distended nubs of arousal now; strange sensations 
which were new to Ann in that they were almost overpowering in their 
magnitude rippled through her lower belly, consuming her tight young pussy 
with a raging inferno of rising passion. Involuntarily, her firm young hips 
began to churn back against Garret's hardened prick, drawing it tighter into 
the soft yielding valley between her buttocks, moving her chest so that her 
nipples rubbed hard against his probing thumbs. Breath began to spew in 
jagged gasps from between her tightly clenched teeth, and from ..her flared 
nostrils, and her glazed eyes were locked on the wildly fucking couple in 
the other room. It was as if some alien force had seized control of her 
mind, her body, her will - was forcing the entity that was Ann Lawson to 
submit to the lewd suggestions of Vic Garret and to forever watch the 
perverted lovemaking between her husband and Ali Garret. She was no longer 
her own master; she was a puppet in the hands of some strange and more 
powerful creature... lust! 

Garret bent Ann forward slightly with the pressure of his body, his hands 
working feverishly on her swollen breasts and his hips grinding against her 
own undulating buttocks. He held her in that position for a moment, 
whispering lewd words into her ear in his mesmeric voice, and then he took 
one hand from one of her breasts and drew back slightly. He took the hem of 
her short summer dress and moved it slowly, teasingly upward to expose her 
bare thighs - higher and higher until the tightly-encased twin orbs of 
loveliness which ( were her ass cheeks came into view. He bunched the dress 
around her waist, letting it hang free below, and then his nimble fingers 
were rubbing slowly, exploringly, over the silky softness of her panties, 
tracing each buttock with the tip of his index finger and then tracing the 
cleft between them until a low, almost inaudible moan twisted itself from 
Ann's throat. 

"It feels good, doesn't it, Ann?" Garret asked as he played with her smooth 
voluptuous flanks. "My fingers feel good on you, just like your husband's 
penis feels good inside my wife, feels good, feels good... " Yes, feels 
good, feels good, answered Ann's brain in automatic response, and it did 
feel good - so good the sensations his hands were causing in her breasts and 
between her legs, so new and wonderful these sensations... 

Now Garret's fingers were inside the waistband of her panties, pulling them 
down, down over her now involuntarily undulating ass moons, exposing the 
glistening wetness which was her excited cunt nestled in the low valley, 
hair-fringed and enticing. He drew the flimsy nylon material down over her 
thighs, parting her legs slightly as he did so, down over her knees to 
puddle finally around her ankles. Then he squatted and lifted first one 
dainty foot, and the other, tossing the moist garment to one side. Raising 
up again, he began to stroke her now naked buttocks softly with his 
fingertips. 

Ann was breathing so harshly now, she felt sure the jerking couple in the 
other room could surely hear her - not that it mattered if they did, for she 
was too far gone with liquor and arousal to care at that moment; she was 
consumed totally by these new and powerful emotions seething through her 
innocent young being. But neither Mark nor Ali would have heard a cannon 
firing at that moment, for both were striving with every fibre of their 
being for mutual release, moaning and slashing at one another with twisting, 
thrusting, hammering loins and buttocks. The wet, slurping sounds of Mark's 
axe-handle size prick pistoning in and out of her lubricious, flowering cunt 
were violently loud, and his huge sperm-bloated testicles seemed to crack 
like pistol shots as they bounced off her wet, upturned ass cheeks. Ali's 
fingernails dug harshly into his back, and Mark's own hands were cupped 
under her flanks, kneading and squeezing the flesh and assisting the 
clasping muscles of her vagina in milking and clutching his hammering 
cudgel. 

"Cum, cum, cum, cum!" Ali chanted in his ear. "Cum, baby, cum, baby, cum, 
baby, cuuummmmmmm!" 

"Fuck you harder, got to fuck you harder!" Mark chanted back with insane 
lust, increasing his jamming, savage assault on her wide-splayed pussy. 

"I'm going to love you now, Ann," Garret whispered into the ear of the 
confused and shocked and intoxicated young bride. "I'm going to put it 
inside you and love you and love you and love you... " Oh Yes, I want to be 
loved... please love me, I want to be loved so bad, please please love 
meeeeeee! 

Garret pushed her now unresisting body forward and down until she was 
kneeling on all fours and pulled the crevice of her tight, firm buttocks 
wide apart with his sure, quick fingers, revealing more of the salaciously 
enticing furrow between her sweet young legs. His other hand left her breast 
now to assist, spreading the valley still wider, so that her tiny puckered 
anus seemed to widen deliciously before his lusting eyes. He trailed one 
finger around and around the nether ring, causing Ann to groan in mindless 
torment, and then dipped it down into the moist, fur-lined slit, his middle 
finger extended. He teased that finger down and under and into the tight, 
incredibly soft cuntal opening of the young bride, moving with maddening 
slowness along the anterior wall of her cunt and then slipping out to move 
to the aroused and rigid bud of her clitoris. Ann mewled with subservient 
delight at the increased tinglings of desire his expert ministrations were 
sending through her - so good, it feels sooooo good to be caressed tenderly 
and lovingly, so good not to be treated like some bitch in heat, to be 
loved, loved, loved... 

At that moment, Garret removed his one hand from her vaginal crevice, 
maintaining his stroking of her clitoris with the other, and there was the 
soft whisper of his zipper being drawn down, From a far corner of Ann's mind 
came a warning bell which portended danger, terror; still, she was unable to 
equate the danger in her liquored confusion and her passion, and the 
caressing finger felt so wonderful in her young aroused pussy... 

Garret, his huge bloated cock filled with swirling blood and hot semen ready 
to erupt, pressed forward to tease the hard, rubbery tip into the moist 
cleft and down toward where his finger was sliding into the hot, wet folds 
of Ann's cunt. She felt it slip along there, opening and closing her legs 
involuntarily, almost spastically around his invading finger while she 
watched with filmed eyes her husband fuck Ali Garret. Then Garret worked the 
smooth rubbery head of his lust-hardened penis into her trembling furrow, 
replacing his finger with it at the door to Ann's sweet, tender womanhood. 

He had to force himself not to plunge forward at that moment, shove his 
great hard cock into her tight little cunt and impale her with a triumphant 
cry of victory. No, he had to go slow, go careful; she was still a cherry 
for all practical purposes, having only had her maidenhead split the night 
before probably. Go slow, don't scare her, don't snap her out of the trance 
his words and the shocking sight before their eyes had put her in - that was 
how he had to play it. Then it would be good! Christ, it would really be 
good to shove his cock into that tight little hole and blow his nuts in this 
sweet little honey's belly! Oh Jesus, this was going to be the best fuck 
he'd ever had, all right... ! 

Slowly, tantalizingly, he worked the tingling head of his cock up and down 
her soft, hair-lined slit, up and down, up and down while the pressure in 
his balls climbed and soared. He forced himself, gritting his teeth, to go 
slow, slow, but it was fast becoming too much to bear; Ann's young velveteen 
ass was unconsciously undulating back against him with growing excitement, 
and she was moaning and panting, running her hands up and down her sides 
where her dress bunched at her waist in spasmodic motion. And the folds of 
her young cunt were soft, so soft, as soft as warm flowing honey around the 
head of his prick... 

At last he could stand it no longer. He whispered urgently against her ear, 
"I'm going to do it now, Ann honey, I'm going to put it in and love you. I'm 
going to love you now, Ann, my sweet little girl... " Ann sucked in her 
breath in anticipation, his gentle words relaxing her, making her cunt 
flower wider and secrete more juices around the head of his penis. She 
spread her legs wider at his command whispered in her ear, and he pressed 
her torso downward slightly to give him more access to her exposed vagina. 
Then, slowly, he edged forward, sliding his cock into her sensitive, elastic 
hole, getting the head all the way in, reveling in her sweet tender flesh. 
He pressed forward, gritting his teeth still harder to keep from slamming 
every last throbbing inch of his cock home in one brutal lunge; another 
half-inch slid inside the resisting passage, and another, and she was so 
warm and wet and wonderful around his trembling rod of flesh. Another 
half-inch, another... 

It's going inside me, filling me up, Ann thought vaguely, as the sensations 
of desire reduced her to a quivering, seething bundle of soft womanhood. But 
it feels good, so hot and warm and good going slowly inside me... it doesn't 
hurt, it doesn't feel bad, it's not like an animal sliding into me, not like 
Mark raping me... oh yes, it's so nice, sooooooo nice, yes this is what 
making love really is, oooooooooooo! 

Easily, gently, Garret insinuated more and more of his burgeoning prick into 
the almost-virginal cunt of the young girl. His balls hung like lead 
weights, filled with his swirling cum, and he knew that once he got all the 
way in and started to stroke, he was going to pop his wad right away. There 
was just no controlling it, but then who gave a good piss? He was going to 
cum inside this fine young piece, he was going to fuck Miss Ann good, and 
that was all that mattered. Another inch, just another inch, and then he 
would be all the way in... 

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," Ann moaned softly as, at last, Garret's sweating loins 
slipped the last inch forward and pressed firmly against her upraised ass 
cheeks - and all of his great cock lay buried in the warm, wet sheath of her 
young cunt. Oh God, all the way in, it feels good... 

Garret let his prick rest imbedded in her tunnel for a moment, feeling its 
warm, moistened walls clasping his cock like a soft, tight fist. Then, he 
withdrew, withdrew until only the head lay within the warmth of her cunt; he 
stared down at his glistening shaft, slick with her lubrication, grinning 
obscenely at the way her soft, hair-lined cunt lips puckered out around the 
swollen head of his cock. He couldn't take it any more, he just couldn't - 
he plunged forward! 

"Uuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh!" cried Ann softly. "Oooh, God!" And then Garret was 
moving, his hips driving forward, his hands kneading and squeezing her ass 
cheeks. His long, hard cock flashed up into her now-widened cuntal tunnel, 
the channel being accustomed to its girth by this time, flashed in and out 
just as Mark's prick was flashing in and out of Ali's heaving pussy. And she 
thought: It doesn't hurt, even when he moves fast like that, lean feel every 
inch of him worming into me and it doesn't hurt... oooooo, it feels so good 
and my... my vagina feels so... so strange... 

She watched with lust-filmed eyes the actions on the bed in the other room, 
watched Mark slam into the blond woman with demoniacal force, drawing his 
heavy cock nearly out of the tight, moist sheath clasping at it hungrily, 
then plunging down again until his bloated balls slapped ruthlessly down 
against her tiny puckered anus. Ali's legs twitched, her toes curling on the 
bed as she lurched her loins up to receive him even deeper into her cunt. 
Then, suddenly, her legs jackknifed straight up into the air, and a low, 
thin wail bubbled from her lips. She was there; she was cumming! Her fists 
beat and pounded on Mark's back as her orgasm seized control of her body, 
and she seemed to be jerking as if with the St. Vitus dance, her lips pulled 
back to expose her gleaming white teeth. 

Then Mark cried out, "Oh Jesus, oh Jesus, I'm going... going to cum, going 
to cum, cccuuuuuummmmmmmmmmm!" His body froze in midstroke, and then hurtled 
downward again in insane fury as his own climax struck and his semen came 
spewing out of his balls like fire out of a blowtorch, inundating her cervix 
with his seed, filling her pussy to overflowing; his hot sticky white cum 
flowed out and around his plunging cock to commingle with Ali's juices and 
form a puddle on the rumpled spread beneath their sweating, heaving 
bodies... Finally, he collapsed forward over Ali, and she wrapped her 
satiated legs around him in thankfulness, cooing her delight in his ear... 

Garret's loins bucked and twisted against the kneeling Ann's upturned 
buttocks as he watched his wife and Mark cumming in the other room. That was 
all he could take; he couldn't hold out any more. He drove into the young 
bride with long looping, buttock flattening strokes that seemed to receive 
power from the tips of his toes, his balls churning and banging into her 
sweaty crevice below. Any second now, any second now, any second now... 

And suddenly, without warning, Garret emitted a guttural mewling sound and 
his balls erupted like Mt. Vesuvius, sending great torrents of his bubbling 
seed spilling into Ann's tight, clasping pussy; he kneaded her buttocks 
convulsively, wrapping the hot moist flesh tighter around his wildly jerking 
cock as he came. Jesus, it was just like he'd known it would be! She was 
good, so good, sooooo goooooddddddd! 

Ann, her turmoiled mind half-crazy with the new and consuming sensations 
flooding her body, buffeted insanely back against the heaving body of Vic 
Garret. She felt the hot warm liquid jerking from his penis then, felt it 
filling her, hot and flowing like warm oil in her pussy, and it was a 
feeling she had never known before, a feeling of such ecstasy that she 
opened her mouth in a wide, soundless scream. She heard but did not hear the 
slurping sounds of his ejaculating penis sawing in and out of her pussy, the 
harsh smacking of his balls against her flailing ass cheeks, and her body 
trembled and vibrated with growing, pinwheeling heat... 

And then - And then her orgasm struck! 

Great flashes of polychromatic lights burst in back of her eyes, and 
pleasure so acute it was as pure as pain consumed every fibre of her being. 
It was as if she was totally reduced to a churning mass of jelly in that 
single instant. Her wide-opened mouth worked soundlessly for a long moment 
as Garret continued to burst his cum into her pussy, and then her mental 
scream found voice and a sound almost unearthly in its magnitude spiraled 
out of her throat, a sound of wild undulating ecstasy... 

"AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIEEEEE AAAAGGGGHH!" 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Ann's cry of release, as loud and tremulous as it was, did not pass 
unnoticed by Mark's satiated brain. He was aware it was his own wife's howl 
of orgasm, and for a split second he was torn by the fear that he had been 
discovered by Garret, or perhaps that the Holts had returned and Harriet had 
fainted in dead shock. He raised his head, eyes wide with fright, shaking 
the vestiges of comotoseness from him, the wild thought of how and where to 
escape rampant in his mind. 

Then, with terrifying clarity, he saw his wife. Ann! He had been found out 
by Ann! Oh God, no! Then, as his emotions took another scan of the tableau, 
he realized that she was NOT standing there in horror, fully clothed and 
righteously indignant; no, she was NOT gaping, wide-eyed, at his 
indiscretions, ready to bolt with tear-filled agony. No, SHE WAS AS GUILTY 
AS HE WAS! 

Every nerve and fiber of his body reeled with the impact of his view. On her 
all-fours in the doorway of the cabin, writhing in some kind of sick and 
perverted danse macabre, and behind her was the kneeling figure of Vic 
Garret. 

"What... what is going on... " he stammered, frowning, his eyes 
uncomprehending bulges of sheer torment. Then he saw the whole lewd, filthy 
picture for what it was... for as he stared open-mouthed at the couple, 
Garret slowly moved backwards on his haunches and his mammoth, still red, 
still rock-hard penis slipped wetly from the backsides of Mark's bride! In 
one blinding flash, Mark realized that Vic Garret had just finished fucking 
his wife! That she had offered up to this stranger her naked crotch for his 
frenzied thrusts - and suddenly, as quickly as he absorbed the lascivious 
scene, an unreasoning anger seized him. He emitted an animal like growl and 
flung himself from the bed; hurt, disgust, hate, and disbelief all swirling 
emotions in his maddened brain. He wasn't aware that Ali had rolled over and 
was watching from the bed in soft, mocking laughter. 

Mark crossed to his wife in three long steps, and as she raised her face to 
him, he backhanded her savagely across the mouth. "You whore!" he yelled at 
her, "You goddamned slut!" 

Ann staggered upright, flinging a hand across her burning lips. White, 
viscous semen from Garret's orgasm trickled from her pink cuntal opening and 
down her inner thighs. 

"Mark! Mark, I... " Mark turned on Garret then, who was still kneeling on 
the floor with a contented grin on his mouth. "And you, you bastard! I ought 
to kill you for doing this to her!" 

"Why, Mark?" he asked calmly. Garret rose and faced him. "Why should you 
want to kill me?" 

"For... for... " gasped the irate Lawson. His hands clasped and unclasped at 
his sides. "For... THIS!" 

"For fucking your wife?" Garret taunted. 

"Yes!" Mark blurted, his face grimacing at the descriptive word. 

"In that case, don't I have the right to kill you first? Because weren't you 
making love to my wife before I was doing it to Ann?" Garret seemed to grow 
in height, to tower over Mark as he continued. "Well? Where is all your 
great indignation now, lover boy! Aren't you more naked than I, caught in 
the same situation as I? And isn't it true that you paid no heed to my 
feelings when you were fucking my woman? Well?" 

Mark was struck speechless, and for a moment he could only writhe on the 
still spit of Garret's barbequing words. "I... I... " Mark choked, "I know 
that what I did was wrong! And I'm sorry about it... now!" 

Ann couldn't contain herself any longer. "Oh please, Mark!" she cried out to 
him, "Please forgive me! You're a man, and I can understand... but I don't 
know what came over me! It was a mistake! A horrible mistake!" 

Mark looked over at his lovely bride, and the agony of her miserableness 
made him cringe inwardly. He slowly, robot-like, collected his strewn 
clothing and, sitting down in a chair, began to put his shirt and pants back 
on. All the while he moaned, "No... no, oh no, oh no!" 

"Oh, come on, Mark," Ali suddenly said from the bed. "Don't take it so hard. 
I mean, this kind of thing is done all the time by the best of families. In 
cities, suburbs, even in farm communities, people are finding out the 
benefits of just what we engaged in. Sometimes it's called wife-swapping, 
other times group sex; but whatever the name it's a way of heightening 
physical pleasure and teaching new avenues of love for one's own mate." 

"It's sick... depraved... " moaned Mark. Ann, beaten and in abject 
humiliation, slowly bent to retrieve her panties. They were on the floor, 
like a tattered white flag of surrender, mute testimony to the degradation 
to which she had fallen. Sanity seemed to return to her slowly, for the 
shock of seeing Mark make love to Ali, coupled with her own illicit orgasm, 
and then added to the still smarting rejection by her husband, was too much 
for her dazed, benumbed senses to handle. The only thought in her mind was 
to flee this sinful den of perversion and never return. Even though she had 
caught Mark in the act of adultery, she realized that it did not give her 
the right to practice that horrid rite herself. 

She whirled around, tears of self-abasement running rampant down her cheeks, 
and if it had not, been for the quick, restraining hand of Garret upon her 
arm, she would have rushed out the door. 

"Hey! Not so fast, Ann," he said softly. "There's a few things I want to say 
to you and your husband. Sit down, please." 

"There's nothing you can say! Not now!" she screamed in retortion. "Let me 
go! I want to leave, do you hear? Please, let me gooo!" Cascading streams 
poured down from her eyes as she struggled in Garret's grip. All she wanted 
was to run... run anywhere and die. Her marriage of only a few hours was 
finished, dead - as dead as she was inside, for the innocent virgin bride of 
the night before was now a common street whore, nothing save a chalice for 
evil men and their seed. Yet as she wrestled for her freedom, she realized 
there was nowhere she could go. She was trapped on this freighter, as 
trapped as if it had been designed as her own personal hell. She had to face 
her punishment, like it or not, and finally she ceased her squirmings and 
allowed Garret to lead her to the couch. She sat, dejected, averting her 
eyes from her husband's burning stare of loathing and hatred. 

"That's better," Garret said. "Now you two listen to me for a minute. First 
of all, you, Ann, asked Mark to forgive you." 

"Yes, yes I did," she moaned, her head dropping to her hands, "I do want him 
to forgive me, but I know he won't. He can't!" 

"Nonsense! He shouldn't have to forgive you for the same reason you 
shouldn't forgive him. There's nothing to forgive!" 

Mark jumped to his feet, his dark eyes flashing. "What do you mean, nothing 
to forgive? We... we were like rutting animals, for God's sake! No better 
than a bunch of... of... " 

"Of normal turned-on human beings," interjected Garret. "Sit down and hear 
me out before you start calling names." He waited until Lawson had settled 
himself in glum, resentful silence again, and then continued. "Now face 
facts, kids. You enjoyed that little act with us. didn't you?" He waited for 
a dramatic moment, but received no answers. "Well, I certainly didn't hear 
any complaints while you were doing it, now did I? Of course not! That's 
because you were having one hell of a ball, and if you'd be honest with 
yourselves, you'd admit it. Sex is fun, kids. It feels good. It's supposed 
to, and that's the gist of my whole argument. Once, procreation was the most 
important thing about sex, but nowadays, there's more kids than we know what 
to do with. The population explosion, right? And we have the Pill and other 
effective means to stop more population without stopping the kicks." 

"But marriage," broke in Ann in a dazed, broken shell of a voice. "The 
sacraments... love... fidelity... " 

"We believe that by participating with others enhances our love for one 
another," Ali said in answer. "I don't think you could find a more devoted, 
happier couple than Vic and I. Group sex has added a new dimension of 
excitement and competitiveness which strict monogamy never could. You 
abandon unnecessarily binding restrictions and give yourself to the 
gratification of your desires, but when you're with your own husband, as I 
am with Vic, you want to put more into it. Your heart and soul, and that 
makes the loving better than anybody else's. And isn't that what marriage is 
all about?" 

Ann sat in a mindless turmoil, trying to sort her upheavaled thoughts. The 
arguments for the pagan kind of amoral life which the Garrets seemingly 
lived battled her own ingrained precepts. It was wrong... she knew it was 
wrong... or was it? She had climaxed with Garret's male member inside her 
body, and it was obvious, all too obvious, that Mark had enjoyed making love 
to Ali. She shook her head, confused. So much had happened in so short a 
time... 

"I think that the trouble lies in the fact that both of you have been 
brought up to view sex as fundamentally dirty. And that love, combined with 
sex, is a possessive kind of hold over your mate, rather than an expression 
of freedom. I'm sorry if that's the case. I can't accept that, nor that by 
sharing your mate you spoil your possession. I believe that sex is a clean, 
natural, open way of getting to know somebody else better." 

"Think about it, at least," Ali added. She curled up in the sheets, looking 
like a soft kitten ready to take a nap after a satisfying meal. "This may be 
something you'll never try again, and how you decide is strictly your 
business." 

Ann, seeming to find a newfound courage and curiosity, turned in her seat 
and looked at Ali. "How - I mean, have you been... that is, when did you 
begin?" 

"When I met Vic. I was married at the time, to a big lug who was the 
lousiest bed-partner in the world. We lived in one of Vic's buildings. 
Anyway, Vic and I met, and well, I fell in love with him. He invited me to a 
party, and I went and it was there that I saw a couple make love for the 
first time. Christ, with my first husband, I never even saw me do it. He 
always had to have the lights out. At first I was shocked, just like you' 
were, I imagine, but then it became beautiful, like a ballet, and I realized 
that the most lovely sight I had ever seen were those two people joined in 
loving one another. It... sort of grew from there." 

"I see," Ann said. 

Garret grinned. "Why don't you two go back to your cabin and talk it over. 
You're newlyweds, and should get to know one another better anyway, and if 
you decide this isn't for you, well then just chalk it up to experience and 
forget it. If you find that it enriched your life and your love for each 
other, then let us know. We'll be pleased if it did, we honestly will." 

Nodding, Mark rose to his feet. He beckoned wordlessly to his bride, and 
then he and Ann left the Garret's presence. They were apart, torn by their 
own fears, prejudices, and guilt. Neither of them said goodbye to their 
hosts, nor thought of what they could say to each other. It was a time of 
deep, soul-searching, re-appraisal of their values; an inner battle of 
despairing proportions. 

Ann swallowed painfully as she walked inside the door of their cabin. Her 
husband of two days was stiffly beside her, his eyes boring daggers in her 
back. She waited until he was inside and then she closed the door quietly, 
her head bowed, and Mark went to the bed and lay down. Slowly he took a 
cigarette from his rumpled shirt and lit it, then propped himself up on one 
elbow to stare accusingly at his bride. She continued to stand in 
shame-faced agony by the door, unable to look directly at him. 

Total self-abomination ran through her for what she had allowed to happen 
and what had been the climax of her act. 

His sperm is still inside me, she thought sickly, a white smear of guilt. 
Vic Garret's seeds are mixing with my husband's... and I'm nothing except 
the whore Mark called me. Surely I will burn in purgatory for this... I'm 
the most horrible of women! Her vagina still ached from the brutalizing of 
Garret's buffeting cock, and her breasts were tender and swollen from sexual 
excitement, as if to add further reminders of her transgressions. Vic was 
not right about what I did. It was wrong! 

Neither spoke, though the air was heavy with electric" thoughts, and then 
she slowly crossed to the bed where she sat down close to her husband. She 
was careful not to touch him, though. Mark continued to smoke his cigarette, 
and then as he snuffed out the butt, he asked softly, "Was Vic right?" 

Ann's answer was quick and positive. "No!" 

"You... didn't enjoy him, then?" 

"I... oh please, Mark don't ask!" Tears welled in her swollen eyes again. 

"Goddamn it, I have to know!" he snapped. His voice was suddenly cold and 
harsh. "Did you like the fucking he gave you or not? Now answer me!" 

In spite of herself, Ann found that her mind was once more reliving this 
afternoon's terrible ordeal, only with the objectivity of a dream, for she 
seemed to see herself as another person might - as Mark probably would have 
if he had looked over at her sooner - and there she was, on her knees, her 
dress bunched obscenely up around her waist, her lily white buttocks 
spasming back on Vic Garret's mercilessly sawing penis. She saw her 
expression, the contortion of lust and debauchery which changed her normally 
placid features, and she felt the inner building of her orgasm again. Had 
she enjoyed it? Yes, she had to admit, Yes I loved every hellish second of 
it! I had liked it well enough to cum, to achieve my first climax. 

Her revelation sent the threatening cloudburst of tears to rain from her 
eyes. She was the most despicable of creatures, the lowest of whores... 
"Yes!" she blurted in agony, "Yes, I did!" 

"How well," he prodded, "how well did you like the fucking?" 

"Mark, please don't torture me like this!" 

"You came, and don't deny it," he sneered. "I heard you, don't forget. You 
camej for Christ's sake, and with another man! First! You didn't with me, 
but you went and screwed Vic and screamed for him!" 

His words whipped her brain in verbal chastisement, and cringing, she tried 
to bring some sanity, some logical explanation to her predicament. "Mark, 
I'm sorry, Mark," she wailed, throwing herself upon his chest trying to hold 
him to her. "Please believe me, Mark. I wanted to cum with you last night, I 
truly did. But you were so rough with me. I was... scared, I guess and... 
afraid." 

"Afraid? Of what? Me?" 

"Yes... and of myself," she sobbed. "I think that I've always been afraid of 
me, of sex, of... my responsiveness. I was up tight last night, after all 
the excitement of the wedding, and I couldn't be the woman you wanted me to 
be." 

"But you could for Garret? Is that what you're saying?" 

"Nooooooo," she wailed loudly. "It was the schnapps, and the... sight of you 
making love. It was so horrible, so terrible that I lost control." She 
continued to cry against his chest, soaking his shirt from with her tears, 
and she dug her nails into his chest convulsively. "I'm nothing but an awful 
whore!" she moaned. 

Mark sat in wretched sorrow. He loved his bride... he had to admit that he 
did in spite of what had happened. He loved Ann, and her last plea for 
understanding hit him hard. It was the schnapps, she had said... and who had 
gotten Garret to load her drinks? Himself! The sight of you making love, she 
had said, and he had been! He had been wallowing on that double bunk with 
that bitch, and just like Garret double bunk with that bitch, and just like 
Garret had shot at him, he had been adulterous first! He still smarted from 
his bride's infidelity, but he also was man enough to realize that he had no 
argument. He was just as guilty of breaking the vows of fidelity, and if his 
wife still loved him, as Ann kept saying, then he would try to forgive her 
in return. More, perhaps, for he had been the catalyst for her actions. 
True, the Garrets had taken advantage of a golden opportunity, that was 
obvious, and they had struck quickly and accurately, but he, and he alone, 
had to stand responsible. And, as he realized the tender frailty of his 
bride's womanhood, he was drawn closer to her, as though in the fear of 
losing her love, he had awakened a vast loving for her. He took one of her 
hands gently, and uncurled the fist her clenched fingers had made, and he 
kissed her forehead lightly. 

"It's all right, honey," he comforted, "It happened, and we'll best forget 
about it. I don't want our marriage to end before it even starts. I love you 
too much." Then, in an effort to reassure her that she was not a whore, a 
harlot, a scab of the streets, he added, "Perhaps the Garrets were right. 
Perhaps the fact we shared our bodies with them and did it together so 
deepened your pleasure that you were able to climax." 

"I... hope so," Ann replied, clutching the straw of his reasoning like a 
drowning woman, "I would like to think that." 

"Sure," he continued in a soothing voice. "It isn't so important that you 
came with Vic first... what's important is that you found out that you can 
enjoy it, that you can respond fully." 

They snuggled in quiet love for a few moments, and then Ann, calmer now, 
asked softly, "And you, Mark... you said perhaps the pleasure was deepened 
for me... was it for you, too?" 

"It was wasn't it?" She felt a curious tingling sensation in the pit of her 
stomach, and the start of a peculiar warmth in her vagina as she mentally 
pictured him with Ali again. It was wrong... sick... lewd, but it somehow 
excited her. "Tell me, did you like making love to her as much as I enjoyed 
Vic?" 

"Yes," he admitted finally. "Yes, I did. She was great." 

The tingling spread like wildfire as he blurted out the truth to her. Ann 
felt the inflammation begin between her inner thighs, and knew instinctively 
that she was becoming aroused intensely by their talk. For some perverted 
reason, the lascivious debauchery of an hour ago was having a marked sexual 
effect on her body all over again... but this time she wanted her husband, 
and only him! Was there actually something in Vic Garret's arguments? Was 
the exchange of sexual partners one way of bringing one's own mate closer? 
The questions mixed with her lusting emotions as slowly, slowly, her 
passions quickened their pulses. Her hand moved from his back. What am I 
doing? she thought helplessly to herself. Why can't I stop? But still she 
moved around so that she was able to rub the front of his pants in a gentle, 
teasing manner. He looked down at her hand, uncomprehending. Ali had started 
this way... what is Ann doing it for? Surely... surely... 

"Mark, I want you... " she heard herself moan. 

"What?" he asked incredulously. "You want me? Now? After what we just did?" 

"Yes, Mark... more than ever!" 

Her hand continued to the belt of his pants, and down went the zipper. She 
laid back the flaps of his trousers and slipped her fingers inside, sliding 
under the band of his underpants and down, down to the wiry bristles of his 
pubic hair. Then she contacted the head of his penis, and she dipped lower 
so that she was able to grasp the whole of its length and caress it back and 
forth, back and forth. It grew - in rapid palpitations to instant erection, 
bulging against his shorts like a tent pole. She traced downwards, around 
the bloating cauldron of his rapidly heating testicles, teasing the soft 
fleshy surface of his groin. 

"Mark," she moaned, mindlessly lost in the lust of the moment. The newly 
awakened fires consumed her, and she was newly awakened, she finally 
realized; Vic Garret having done it with his wicked travesty of this 
afternoon. "Mark, don't you want me?" 

"Oh Christ," Mark moaned in reply. His hips began to undulate on the bed. 
"Yes, yes I do!" 

She rose lone enough to undress him, and then herself, a momentary delay 
which left their clothes scattered around the cabin in a mock repeat of his 
seduction by Ali. Then she crawled on the bed and smiled warmly at him. "I 
can't help myself, Mark," she crooned, "I want you so badly... please, 
please make love to me!" 

"Oh, yes, honey!" Mark whispered hoarsely, "Grab my cock and shove it up 
that beautiful cunt of yours." He reached for her, stroking her breasts with 
fevered hands. "Do it, baby, doooooo iiiiiiitttt!!!!!" 

She raised herself on all fours, and she crawled over him with her knees on 
either side of his hips. She dipped her fingers between their bodies and 
encircled his rising cock, which was throbbing and encircling his rising 
cock, which was throbbing in uplifted desire, and she teased it with her 
thumb and forefinger, all up and down the rubbery length. Mark squirmed and 
moaned, and she smiled broadly, hungrily. Then she moved forward some more 
and spread her thighs and guided his giant cock to her desire-drenched 
pussy, rubbing its bulbous head over the fleshy, hair-lined lips of her 
vagina. Her cunt valley opened to his questing rod like a vanquished foe 
asking surrender before a marauding knight, and his cock sliced into the 
awaiting furrow like soft melted butter as she flicked its girth up and 
down. 

"You like?" she gasped from the electric contact. 

"Aaaahhhhh," came the sighing answer, and then Mark jerked upwards. His hips 
drove the elongated rod into the wetness of her cuntal tunnel, deep to the 
root of her passions. 

"Uuuuuggghhhhh!" she groaned. He plunged upwards again, and then he began to 
stroke in long, rhythmic pumpings, and in response she rotated and squirmed 
her smooth white buttocks around in matching tempo. He withdrew, then 
slammed still harder until his aroused cock pressed hard against her cervix 
with its fevered head, and all the while Ann thought how wonderful it was 
that the man she was being so beautifully fucked was by her husband! 

Oh God, there had never been anything this good! Not even with Vic... but 
Vic had been right; she was awakened, and she was enraptured more than any 
mortal being had the right to be. The glut of licentious perversion which 
she had seen and partaken in had somehow broken the shackles of her 
Victorian fetters. She was free! Ann tossed her head in wild abandon, and 
offered her breasts to Mark's wet, searching lips as she bent over his 
churning loins. She spread her thighs still more, angling down to grovel 
still further on the passion-hardened rod skewering up into her, and her 
belly churned with her impending climax. 

"I'm... I'm going to cum honey," Mark gasped beneath her, "Oooooohhhhh, 
baby, don't stop... don't... " 

"Uh... uh... uh... " Ann chanted in unison, raising her body in an arch and 
grinding salaciously downwards with greater pressure. She was almost 
there... so close... and she wanted to feel their love juices mingle 
together in the hot, boiling cauldron of her young belly. Her breasts heaved 
and trembled, and Mark once more placed his lips around her twitching 
nipples, sucking on them, feeling them grow harder still against his tongue 
tip, and hearing her pant and mewl with her newly unleashed passion. And 
then she cried out in a convulsing, gargoyle contortion of her lovely face-, 
rolled her tongue out and lolled her eyes, and in pagan abandonment she came 
in a roaring tornado of uncontrolled lust! 

"AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!" she screamed out into the room, the core of her being 
ripped from her in animal ferocity. Spurts of her vaginal fluids inundated 
the mammoth shaft imbedded in her cunt, and then Mark jerked and lurched, as 
a tidal wave of his frothing sperm raced from deep in the swirling well of 
his testicles, up his vertical penis, and splashed far up into her quivering 
pussy. Her belly trembled from the torrent of his release, and he emptied 
the hot, white load to the point where it inundated her cuntal walls and 
rivuleted out and down between his legs to pool in mixture with her cum on 
the sheets below. 

He fell backwards, and Ann collapsed on top of him, spent. Her legs went 
limp and she kissed his ear and neck tenderly as she felt his turgid cock 
slowly deflate within her. Then she whispered in his ear... 

"I love you, Mark. I love your lovemaking, too." 

"Was... was it better than with Vic?" 

"Oh yes, darling. Much better." 

Mark tried to move from beneath her, but she squeezed her legs together and 
said, "Leave it in, dear. I like the feel of it going soft inside me!" 

"Ann... I love you too," Mark told her, "And I'm sorry for what happened 
between us and the Garrets today. I'm truly sorry." 

"Hush, my sweet," Ann answered. "Don't be. I'm not." 

"You're not?" came the shocked reply. 

"Yes. Don't you understand? Vic was right. Somehow, a strange man entering 
me and shooting his seed in me awakened the desires which I'd kept for so 
long inside." She kissed him tenderly. "It had nothing to do with you, dear; 
it had to do with my moralistic upbringing. It was the lewdness and the 
sheer shock of the situation which opened me up." 

Mark considered his bride's words for a moment, his cock still lovingly 
draining in her cunt. Then he kissed her and said, "In that case, I'm not 
sorry. But what about Vic's talk afterwards? Do you agree with him?" 

"I don't know, darling. This one time, possibly it was good. It helped me... 
helped us. But more of this swapping... " she let her voice trail off in 
uncertainty. She moved her hips and fucked her tongue along her lips and 
then undulated her buttocks and amazingly, the lust began to grow inside her 
again. Yes; this was what sex is all about, she thought wildly, Sex IS good 
and fun, and I want more and more! 

As she continued to make love - devoted, full and enriched, spiritual and 
physical - to her new husband, the bride, blushing now with sexual 
excitement, cried out from her sudden sense of freedom. 

"Oh darling!" she wailed, "I'm going to love you... forever!" 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Ann begged off going to breakfast the following morning; she wasn't at all 
sure she could face the Garrets after what had happened yesterday, and she 
needed some time to prepare herself. Mark, in deference to the young bride's 
wishes, decided to remain with her in the cabin, and when Kurt came knocking 
at their door to tell this it was time for Fruhstuck, Mark said they would 
like some coffee in the cabin and that was all. 

Dutifully, the fat Chief Steward soon brought them a large yellow hot-cold 
pitcher of heavy European coffee and two cups and some milk and sugar on a 
gleaming silver tray. He departed with a cheerful nod. As Mark poured coffee 
into the two cups, he studied his beautiful new wife across the table. 

She looked radiant this morning, he had to admit that. Her smooth cheeks 
were flushed with health, and she seemed to be as happy as she had ever been 
in her life. Had their mutual infidelity of the day before really been a 
boon to their relationship as man and wife? he wondered. Could something as 
irresponsible, as wickedly sinful, as wife-swapping (and that's what it had 
been, for God's sake!) lead to something good and clean and beneficial to 
both of them? Well, if he had been asked that question academically, at some 
gathering or other, he would have said an emphatic no; now, he wasn't so 
sure. He felt closer to Ann than ever before, and he knew it was the same 
with her; witness the tremendous untapped passion she had exhibited with him 
the night before. Wasn't that preferential to the damned-near rape he had 
performed on her on their wedding night, for Christ's sake? And wasn't it a 
direct result of her indiscretion with Vic Garret and his own with Ali that 
had brought about this awakening of her senses? Mark was certainly 
.beginning to think so... 

They drank their coffee, touching hands now and then and locking eyes across 
the table. Ann's mind was gradually blotting out the events of the day 
previous in favor of the strong avowed love she felt for her new husband. 
Nothing was really important except that love - and what she knew to be 
Mark's in kind; all else was relegated to secondary import on this morning. 
She no longer seemed to feel shame or guilt or confusion, for she was a 
fulfilled woman who had found the true beauty and rapture of sexual 
gratification with her chosen mate. 

Mark was pouring more coffee for himself when the knock sounded on the door. 
Thinking it was Kurt, he called out cheerfully, "Unlatch and trek in, mein 
hen. " Vic Garret stepped inside, smiling brightly, his handsome face 
showing no signs of hesitancy or remorse or embarrassment. "Morning, kids," 
he said. 

Ann, surprised by his entrance, blushed slightly and averted her eyes. Mark 
looked up at Garret, pursing his lips. "Hello," he said stiffly. His gaze 
was cold, but without animosity. 

"Thought I'd drop in to see if everything was all right," Garret said. "Ali 
was worried about Ann, since the two of you didn't come to breakfast." 

"We... weren't hungry, that's all," Ann said hesitantly, still not looking 
directly at Garret. 

He laughed softly, stepping further inside the cabin as though it was his 
own and not the Lawson's. He leaned one hip against the frame of the nearest 
bunk bed, regarding Mark and Ann with an almost paternal expression. "Did 
you... talk over what we discussed yesterday?" he asked bluntly. "About what 
happened between the four of us, I mean, and the present and future effect 
on your relationship." 

Mark's lips were a white slash now. "I don't think it's any of your business 
what we discussed, Garret." 

"Isn't it? Well, perhaps not. But you both seem loving toward one another; 
you've got that newlywed look in your eyes again. When you left my cabin, it 
was a toss-up as to whether things would work out that way or just the 
opposite - with the two of you splitting up and never speaking to one 
another again. Ali and I were plainly worried. The last thing we want is to 
break up a marriage that's just starting." 

"You should have thought of that yesterday," said Mark. 

"Maybe we should have," agreed Garret. "But, it seems things have worked out 
for the best." He watched Ann's face intently, and then asked 
matter-of-factly, "Did you make love last night, after you returned to your 
cabin here?" 

The sudden flash of crimson which flamed Ann's cheeks gave him an immediate 
answer. She turned away. Mark got to his feet. "Damn it, Garret, you... " 

"Take it easy, will you?" Garret soothed. "There's nothing to get excited 
about. I think it's beautiful that you made love - and that it was perfect 
and completely fulfilling for you both." 

"How... how did you know that?" blurted Ann. 

Garret smiled sagely. "So I was right, eh? I thought so. Listen, kids, you 
aren't a unique couple, you know. Thousands - hell, millions - of young 
marrieds have trouble adjusting to one another at the beginning; that's 
especially true sexually. It was plain to see that you were having 
difficulties and that you needed some kind of impetus to bring you together. 
Granted, the kind of impetus Ali and I provided yesterday was a little 
drastic, but it worked just as we hoped it would. When you've been swinging 
as long as Ali and I have, then you begin to anticipate reactions and 
occurrences; the natural ones in your case was to either drift apart - which 
wasn't too likely with the love you exhibited for one another - or to want 
desperately to prove to each other that what you could have together would 
be better than what you could have with somebody else." Garret paused 
dramatically. "And it was, of course; it always is." 

Ann looked at Mark, and he at her. Then they both lowered their eyes. 
Garret's smile grew larger, but more empathic. "Nothing to be ashamed about. 
I know how it is, because that's what makes Ali's and my marriage so good. 
Every time we swap, or make love to someone else, then we come home and do 
it with each other. And each time, it's always better than it was with the 
other person. That's the whole basis of group sex, of swapping on a regular 
basis; it makes your marriage as solid as a chunk of granite." 

The coldness was gone from Mark's eyes now as he looked up at Garret. There 
was a grudging respect in his eyes, for he knew in his heart, knew 
intrinsically, that Garret was right in all he was saying. But he said, 
"I... I just don't think the concept... of wife-swapping is healthy, that's 
all." 

"Only because you don't understand it, haven't been exposed to it," Garret 
said calmly. "Look what yesterday did for both of you: you each had a good, 
thrilling experience with Ali and I - nothing wrong in climaxing, is there? 
- and then you came here and had a tremendously beautiful sexual experience 
with one another. What could be more healthy than that?" 

"I... I don't know," Ann said querulously. Her mind, so complacent only a 
few minutes earlier with her re-kindled love for her husband, was now 
confused again. Vic was right, she had to admit that; there wasn't any 
apparent flaw to be seen in his argument. But if she accepted his words 
completely, then that was tantamount to saying her herself that she would 
have extra-marital sex again - and again; that it was all right to indulge 
in wife-swapping and group sex. And it wasn't all right to do that on a 
regular basis, on any basis... was it? It couldn't be... could it? 

"We just don't know what to think right now," Mark told Garret lamely. 
"We're confused... so much has happened, and so fast. We can't cope with 
it." 

"Sure, I realize how that is," Garret said smoothly. "Listen, tell you what. 
Why don't you and Ann come on up to my cabin right now. Ali's there, and we 
can have a nice relaxing drink and talk it out in detail." 

"Well... " Mark began uncertainly. "It'll do you both good. You'll 
understand things more properly once they're discussed at length. What do 
you say?" 

Mark looked at Ann. "Honey?" 

"I... I guess it wouldn't hurt if we went up and talked for a while," 
admitted Ann. She felt strangely detached from herself, as if she were 
dreaming this whole sequence of events - vividly dreaming it, but dreaming 
it nonetheless. She wished things were simple, that the world was simple and 
uncomplicated and that there weren't always a lot of things that had to be 
resolved and decided and thought out and worried over. That would have been 
so wonderful... 

"All right... I guess we could listen," Mark said at length. "We... we're 
not closed-minded hypocrites, after all. We're open to... to ideas and 
concepts, aren't we, Ann?" 

"... Yes, yes, we are," Ann answered softly. 

They left the cabin and started down the companionway, and it seemed to Ann 
as if they were being carried along on a kind of vapor instead of walking - 
as if a cloud, invisible but very powerful, was stretched like a horizontal 
escalator beneath their feet, carrying them to some unknown destination and 
some unknown occurrence once they arrived. Only she knew, in a far dim 
corner of her brain, what that occurrence really would be when they reached 
the Garret's cabin: it would be wife-swapping, she and Mark were going to 
indulge in wife-swapping with Ali and Vic Garret on this day, openly and 
knowingly... she was going to have Vic's huge penis inside her vagina again, 
as it had been yesterday, and Mark's member would be inside Ali... Ann knew 
this as they floated right along, knew it and yet was powerless to stop it. 
Did she want it to happen? Did she really believe Vic was right in all that 
he had said about the attributes of group sex? Did she really want to commit 
willful infidelity with her husband in the same room, watching him as he 
watched her making love? The answer must be yes, she thought fuzzily, or I 
would stop it, somehow I would force myself out of this almost trance-like 
state I am now in and put a stop to it before it's too late... but I can't 
do that, won't do that, the answer must be YES!... 

Mark, too, was vaguely aware that this sojourn to the Garret's cabin could 
only result in one thing - the exchanging of mates and a sexual bacchanal. 
And yet, the very perversity of the idea was somehow strangely enticing to 
him, not at all repulsive. Garret's words, rationalizing extra-marital sex, 
seemed to make all the sense in the world the more he pondered them; there 
wasn't anything inherently wrong with achieving sexual gratification, as 
long as it didn't hinder or harm the relationship with the person you truly 
loved - especially if, in fact, it strengthened the bonds of adoration 
between you both. No, he was becoming more and more convinced that Garret 
had been right - and he knew that he wouldn't stop things if they got 
started, wouldn't even try to prevent the inevitable... 

They reached the closed door to the Garret cabin, and Vic knocked twice, 
lightly, and then opened the door. They went inside, and Ann blinked twice 
to accustom her eyes to the sudden darkness. She saw then that the wooden, 
louvered doors had been pulled closed over the twin marine windows in the 
far bulkhead. A shadowy blur sat on the table before the couch, and as Ann's 
eyes grew used to the dimness she saw that it was a movie projector. Movie 
projector? Now why would Ali have a movie projector set up... ? 

Garret's beautiful blonde wife, who had been sitting in the darkness on the 
couch, stood up as they entered. "Well, hello," she greeted, and Ann could 
see in the pale light from the open door that she was smiling warmly. "I'm 
glad Vic was able to talk you into coming up. I hope everything is... all 
right." 

"Just fine, honey," Garret said easily. He took Mark's arm, and placed a 
warm familiar hand on Ann's spine just above the hip, and steered them both 
to the couch. "Sit down, kids. Ali, is the film ready?" 

"All set." 

"What film?" Mark asked, but a small voice in his brain had given him the 
answer even as the question left his lips. He mentally told the voice that 
it was wrong, blotting out the knowledge but only briefly. 

"You'll see," Garret said. "A little illustration of what we were discussing 
in your cabin right now." 

"But I don't understand how a film of some sort can illustrate the... kind 
of thing we were talking about," Ann said hesitantly; she didn't comprehend 
at all. 

"Relax, Ann, and everything will soon be abundantly clear," said Garret 
mysteriously. He stepped around to the movie projector on the table and 
began to adjust it in the darkness; Ann thought that he must be an expert at 
such things to be able to work without lights on the intricate mechanism. 

Ali came around the table and stepped behind her husband, facing Ann and 
Mark. "Scoot down a little, honey," she said to Ann. "I want to sit next to 
your husband. That is, if you don't mind." 

"Oh... no, no, I don't mind," Ann said and obediently she moved down to 
allow Ali more room; as the blonde woman sat down, Ann could feel the warm 
flesh of her thigh through a short, clinging chemise that Ali wore - and she 
knew that Mark could feel the same pressure on the blonde's other side. Was 
he excited by her pressing against him like that? the young bride wondered. 
Did he... have any lewd thoughts at this moment? Well, no, don't be silly, 
she chided herself; nothing is going to happen, nothing is going to happen, 
nothing is going to happen... 

But she knew, even as she tried to convince herself of the opposite, that 
something was going to happen - something she secretly, perversely wanted to 
happen... 

"Here we go," Garret said from the projector. He flicked a switch, and a 
square of light shone on the wall to the left of them, above one of the 
cabin's bunk beds. Garret sat down next to Ann, squeezing into the small 
space remaining on the couch; his thigh seemed to feel hot against Ann's, 
hot and hard and masculine. She swallowed hard, conscious of a tenseness in 
her chest and a funny fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach. She 
squeezed her legs tightly together and then her eyes went to the square of 
light, watched numbers dancing there backward from ten to four, watched an 
image in full color appear where the whiteness had been... 

It was a bedroom, small and well-furnished. In the middle of an oval 
modernistic bed with a red velvet spread, a young girl lay reading a book. 
She was completely nude, little more than fifteen or sixteen, but she 
possessed firm, ripe breasts that were as bronzed as the rest of her body - 
as if she had been sunbathing in the nude on a regular basis. Her nipples 
were tender and ruby-red, highlighted by perfect brownish-pink circles that 
were her areola. She had a flat, planed stomach that curved into a 
beautifully textured abdomen, and her pubic mound was just slightly 
prominent and covered with silky, very fine golden hair; it matched her long 
tresses fanned out on the brilliant red spread, like a halo of gold 
encircling her head. Her legs were parted, just enough so that the camera 
was able to discern the shiningly wet folds of her vaginal lips and a faint, 
tantalizing hint of her youthful, blood-red clitoris. 

Ann stared in shocked surprise at the nubile young girl, moistening her lips 
with the tip of her pink little tongue. And yet, there was a certain tension 
building inside her - a tension which further constricted her chest, and 
caused a tingling warmth along the walls of her pussy. Garret's thigh, 
pressing against her bare thigh - she wore only a very short miniskirt and a 
thin blouse with a peek-a-boo bra beneath and brief step-ins to complete her 
ensemble - seemed as if it was fever hot, branding her tender, sensitive 
skin with its heat. 

She said, in a voice choked with emotion, "That... that girl. She... she's 
nude. What's she doing there like that? What kind of movie is this?" 

"Just watch and you'll find out," Ali commanded in a husky voice. "It's very 
educational, honey; it's better than any talking Vic and I could do. You'll 
see... you'll see... " As the young girl on the red velvet bed read the book 
in her hands, her blue eyes began to close seductively. Her moist pink 
tongue appeared to move restlessly over her full pouting lips, and the rise 
and fall of her pear-shaped, high-nippled tits increased noticeably. Her 
tanned hips began to rotate as if to the beat of some musical tempo, slowly 
at first and then with increasing rapidity as the obviously erotic section 
of the book aroused her more and more. 

Suddenly, her hand left the tome and began to massage one of her luscious 
breasts in small, teasing circles, thumb and forefinger squeezing the 
berry-like buds until they became even harder and more ruby-red. Her hips 
continued their wild, pagan rolling motion until at last her legs scissored 
wide to reveal to the camera for the first time the entire panorama of her 
glistening, petal-lipped cunt and the oscillating nub of her clitoris. Her 
hand left her breast then, inching its way down over her flat stomach, down 
over her silky pubic hair, down between her splayed legs so that the tips of 
her fingers revolved over the pulsating clit. Then they moved with agonizing 
slowness over first one bronzed thigh, then the other, to finally return to 
her lust-dampened furrow. Her hips raised high off the velvet spread, and 
she drew her legs back so that the knees touched her chest on either side of 
her full, rounded tits, squeezing the two spongy globes tightly together 
until the nipples almost touched, widening her cunt still more for the 
camera's whirring eye. Her finger began to tickle her clit, faster and 
faster, and now her head was flailing from side to side and there was a look 
of sheer abandoned ecstasy on her full mouth and sweat-sheened face. The 
tiny puckered hole of her anus seemed to throb open in a lewd invitation, 
and briefly her finger left her clit to tease round and round the nether 
ring - but it came back again to its main objective, swirling the quivering 
miniature phallus with insane speed as she sought to achieve her 
masturbatory orgasm... 

"This is... depraved! It's sick and depraved!" Ann blurted suddenly, 
squeezing her own thighs tightly together and breathing raggedly, her eyes 
locked on the wildly jerking girl in the movie. But her actions belied her 
words, and they lacked convictions even in her own ears. She was aroused; 
even if she wouldn't admit it to herself, she was aroused watching this 
teenage girl play with herself. Aroused, aroused... 

"It's not depraved at all, Ann," Garret told her calmly. He pressed his 
thigh tighter to hers and slipped an arm about her shoulders, stroking the 
thin blouse back and forth. The touch of his fingers sent an electric shock 
through Ann, and she shuddered. But she didn't pull away; if anything, she 
drew closer to him. "It's good, because it excites you. I know it excites 
you, because it excites me. It makes me feel good. It gives me an erection, 
a hard-on, Ann. It gives me a hard-on the same way it makes your pussy 
tingle and all wet and warm... " His lewd words, breathed almost in her ear, 
seemed to freeze the young bride into an immobile position, as if she had 
lapsed somehow into a catatonic trance. She was breathing heavily, her mind 
churning, her nipples rigid beneath her bra and blouse and her cunt watering 
exactly as Garret had said it would. 

Mark, too, seemed mesmerized by the flickering film. He could feel Ali next 
to him, could feel the firmness of her breast pressing against his arm, the 
nipple seeming to burn his skin through the material of her chemise. His 
cock was turgid in his pants, and his balls ached with a vengeance. Christ, 
this was wrong, all wrong, but the way that young thing was beating herself 
off in the film was unbelievably enticing! And Ali... so close, smelling of 
musk, so much of a damned woman that it made you want to cry out like some 
space-age Tarzan and attack her every goddamned time you were near her. 
Jesus, Jesus, she was rubbing the back of his head now, rubbing and rubbing 
and her other hand was on his leg, a firebrand on his leg, moving higher and 
higher and he couldn't have prevented it if he'd wanted to... 

In the dancing technicolor film, the golden-haired girl was masturbating 
with mindless rapture, her legs still pulled back and squeezing her 
succulent tits together and her bronzed buttocks an impossible fever of 
motion from her talented explorations of her own pussy. She was nearing a 
climax, almost there but not quite... and then, suddenly, a huge furry form 
bounded in a long graceful leap into the range of the camera, landing 
heavily beside the girl on the velvet spread. It was a gigantic Boxer dog, 
its jowls parted redly and its long furled tongue panting saliva. It moved 
forward, nuzzling the golden-haired girl's upthrust buttock in convivial 
gentleness. 

The teenager became rigid at the sudden electric contact of the dog's cold 
nose, her finger positioned on the tip of her inflamed clit. Then, slowly, 
she smiled and patted the Boxer's huge head - and she pushed it lower with a 
familiar hand on its scruff, turning her body on the bed until her 
passion-lubricated vaginal slit was within inches of the, animal's panting 
tongue. She began to pat her golden pubic mound invitingly, her entire body 
tensed and her thighs which imprisoned her tits beginning to squeeze the 
pliant globes together as would a lover's hands. 

The Boxer's stubby tail wagged happily, and the dog lowered its head to the 
girl's trembling, hair-lined vagina and sniffed greedily. Then its curled 
tongue licked upward exploratorily along the fluted edges of her 
lust-moistened pussy. The girl tremored with delicious abandonment at the 
forbidden contact, and her hips began to churn wildly on the bed once more. 
The animal ran its hot, wet tongue over her trembling clit, then back down 
almost to the brown ring of her tiny puckered anal hole, then back up over 
her cuntal mouth to her clit again, flicking with relentless fervor. She 
twisted and jerked madly, her mouth opened as if she were screaming out her 
rapture as the great Boxer lapped the pungent flaming juices of her 
desire-ridden cunt. 

Ann had begun to squirm with building arousal on the couch as she watched 
the lewd, lascivious actions of beast and human flickering on the cabin 
wall. A part of her mind - the part of her which had remained a virgin even 
with her defloration, with her subsequent act of infidelity; would remain so 
until she broke its mental maidenhead through strength of will -screamed out 
for her to get up and run, get away from this perversity and animal 
sexuality. But the rest of her brain, stronger now, much stronger, was 
inflamed with desire and she was rooted irrevocably to her seat. 

Garret's arm was still around her shoulders, and he had moved his hand down 
to caress her firm, taut breast briefly. Then he moved it back up again, 
only to slip his fingers inside her blouse, down to push her bra cup away 
and grasp the firm naked flesh of her tit and the turgid nipple. His other 
hand was on her thigh, stroking it up and down, up and down, moving to her 
panties, fingertips touching the moist mound of her cunt beneath the now-wet 
nylon band between her thighs. His fingers were hot and exciting on her 
flesh, and she couldn't stop him, didn't want to stop him; she was 
mesmerized by the lustful sight, before her eyes, and her body was reacting 
to both the film and to Garret's talented fingers. She didn't care... 
physical gratification, that was all that mattered... Vic had been right, 
when you were aroused you had to have release - and any kind of release was 
good... 

Ali, sitting beside Ann, had thrown her left leg over Mark's right one, 
pushing her short chemise up around her waist. She wore no panties, and when 
she took Mark's hand and guided it to her wide-splayed cunt she reveled in 
his gasp of surprise and passion. Her own hand was moving busily across his 
lap, squeezing and kneading his hardened prick while his finger had begun to 
slide in and out of her cuntal lips noisily with a wet sluicing sound as if 
it were his cock fucking into her. She opened his zipper soundlessly, moved 
aside his shorts with deft fingers, and drew his blood-swollen shaft into 
the open. She began to massage it between her palms, thumbs running over and 
around the seminally-lubricated head, kissing him on the neck and trailing 
her hot wet tongue over his skin. Mark was breathing with staccato 
expulsions, like a runaway steam engine, and he was totally abandoned now to 
the perversion dancing on the wall and to the dexterous ministrations of the 
insatiable Ali beside him. 

The blonde began to whisper in his ear, "I want you to fuck me, Mark, I want 
to feel this big hard cock of yours filling up my cunt... I want you to cum 
inside me, cum and cum and cum inside my cunt with your big cock spewing 
like a volcano... I want to fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you... " And 
Mark's finger moved with insane sawings in and out of her now-hungrily 
clasping pussy at the obscene "intensity of her desirous demands... 

The young golden-haired teenager in the film had reached down to grasp the 
Boxer's ears and pull its huge head closer to her glistening vaginal furrow, 
pull its cold wet nose into her vulva. She maintained that position for 
several seconds, her body undulating in a crazy dance of lust, her hands 
burying the Boxer's head in her cunt. But then the animal jerked backward, 
breaking her grip, its tail slapping to and fro like a furry pendulum, and 
began to nuzzle the bronzed quivering globes of her buttocks. The dog's 
tongue probed her tiny puckered anus briefly, causing her to jackknife 
almost completely off the bed in ecstasy, and then licked upward over her 
pussy again to the indentation of her navel and the flat plane of her 
sweat-sheened stomach. 

The young child seemed to have gone insane with lust, for her lips were 
twisted into a mindless contortion of uncontrollable passion. She reached 
out blindly and pulled the dog up over her trembling body, taking the 
Boxer's forepaws and positioning them on either side of her wide-splayed 
thighs. The dog's long, dripping tongue licked her bulging, squeezed breasts 
for an instant, and then it was lolling in her face as she held the beast 
steady. Her own tongue flicked out, found the dog's, ran up and down over it 
several times, her lips nibbling it and drawing it inside her mouth. Then 
she released one of her hands from its forepaw and reached down to grasp the 
shining, crimson penis which had magically appeared from its furry sheath at 
the Boxer's loins. 

The huge slippery organ slipped from her fingers and she grabbed it again, 
almost . frantically this time. Her cuntal mouth was opened wide to the 
camera, glistening wet and ready, and her hips were upthrust as far as 
possible to receive the anticipated invasion of the animal prick she was now 
guiding to her womanhood. Then she had poised the brilliant red cock, so 
obscene against the warm, wet folds of her pink pussy; the dog, seeming to 
sense its nearness to conquest, bucked forward then to drive his immense 
implement of burning fire deep, deep into the golden hair of the girl's 
twitching cunt. 

The Boxer's great hair-coated balls slapped off her squirming buttocks and 
her passion-contracting rectum as she lunged up again and again to meet the 
beast's impossibly rapid lunges into her warm, wet cavern of lust. Its 
forepaws sawed relentlessly at her sides, and she held its head again, 
sucking and licking the animal's lolling tongue as it fucked wildly into 
her. Her hips seemed to be a blur of motion beneath the Boxer's pistoning 
loins, and her face - turned upward clearly for the camera to see beneath 
the slavering head of the dog - was contorted even more mindlessly, more 
salaciously, than before as the enormous animal slammed its crimson cock 
faster and faster into her voraciously clasping cuntal channel... 

The salacious, maddening sight of the dog and girl in the movie had sent Ann 
to a fever pitch of excitement. She was no longer sitting motionless with 
Garret's hands on her breast and on her thigh and cunt; she was now actively 
helping him. She turned her face, opened her mouth to receive his tongue and 
fused it with her own. Gone were all her inhibitions - inhibitions which 
would, undoubtedly, return when the drugged effect of lust wore off in her 
brain - and in their place was only a tremendous urgency, a need to gratify 
her carnal desires beyond all others. There was no shame, no sense of 
wrong-doing, no sense of sin; there was only lust, pure animal heat that 
threatened to destroy her very essence with its magnitude. 

When Garret's questing fingers found the waistband of her flimsy white 
panties, began to draw them down, she raised her hips off the couch to help 
him. One of her hands dipped down to assist him in dragging them off her 
feet, and then she splayed her legs wide, opening her flowing, throbbing 
cunt wide for his returning hand. She reached up then, undoing the buttons 
on her blouse, pulling it open, pushing up her bra so that her small but 
perfectly symmetrical breasts were naked for his every whim. 

Garret rummaged her cunt with his finger for a moment, then, as he lowered 
his head to take one of her turgid nipples into her mouth, he grasped one of 
her hands and guided it to his bulging trousers. Obediently, she stroked the 
hardened bulge, her fingers finding the fly and drawing it down. An instant 
later, his huge, purple-veined cock throbbed into view, its head like a 
great shining mushroom in the flickering movie light. She held it in her 
hand, like a starving child would hold a candy sucker, and then Garret was 
guiding her body over his with his hands, forcing her legs out on either 
side of him. Not once did his lips leave her breast, teasing and suckling 
the nipple with his mouth and tongue. His hands held her in that position, 
with her gaping cuntal opening readied above his cock imprisoned in her 
hand. 

He took his lips from her tit then, commanded, "Look over your shoulder, 
Ann. Watch the movie. Watch the dog fucking the young girl, watching his 
cock sliding in and out of her pussy, Ann, in and out - in and out... " Ann 
did as she was bid, and the salacious sight set her whole body to vibrating 
crazily. She knew nothing but the raging inferno of lust, which was her 
being, was unaware of that Mark on the other end of the couch was now being 
mounted by Ali as she had mounted Vic Garret, only turned toward the screen 
with her firm, jiggling ass moons pressed down hard against Mark's heaving 
belly. Ann did not see, could not have cared about, Ali's hand wrapped 
around Mark's throbbing prick or the way the blonde guided it to her cunt, 
lowered herself onto it with a moaning sigh of ecstasy, began to rock up and 
down in total abandonment on the young husband's arrow-straight shaft while 
he kneaded her exposed tits with both his hands. 

Nothing mattered to Ann at that moment but the insane need for release, to 
feel in her throbbing, aching channel a male member which would bring about 
that release. She guided Garret's pounding cockhead to her cuntal opening, 
parting the soft sparse cuntal fleece with its smooth rubbery head as he 
once again began to suck her breast. Still looking back over her shoulder at 
the flickering images on the screen, the young bride suddenly levered down 
with some special reserve of strength to impale herself on Garret's hardened 
rod of male flesh as if she were committing Japanese hara-kiri... 

"Uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh!" she wailed, but it was a wail as much of 
thankfulness, of pure delight, as it was one of pain... 

On the silver screen the young golden-haired girl squeezed and squeezed her 
swollen breasts with her thighs spasmodically, licking and sucking the dog's 
tongue, as the Boxer drove his flailing animal cock deeper and deeper into 
her churning pussy. She seemed to be crooning words of lustful encouragement 
to the beast buried within her, urging him to fuck her harder and deeper, to 
spew his searing animal seed far into her belly. She was no longer human, 
was only a mass of jellied flesh under the dog's masterful strokes of 
intercourse. 

The child was approaching climax now, as was the beast whose cock she had 
taken into her cunt. Her golden hair swirled frenetically on the red velvet 
spread as she bucked and reared upward against the beast in an effort to 
ingest more of his flaming prick into the hungrily sucking cavern between 
her legs. The first overwhelming spasms of orgasm were seizing control of 
her now, causing her body to heave and jerk like a madwoman's; she was 
kissing the Boxer, showering its hairy, panting face with moist kisses and 
fiery tongue, holding onto its head as the dog fucked deeper into her 
splayed crotch. She bounced her buttocks with impassioned frenzy down 
against the bed as her cum now flowed freely through her, as the first 
spurts of semen from the Boxer's flame-red cock leapt like fire drops deep 
into the very depths of wildly quivering belly. Thick white sperm flowed 
like lava from her upthrust cunt as it clasped the ejaculating prick of the 
animal; it flowed down along the crevice between her bronzed ass cheeks, 
filling the working puckered ring of her anus, flowing lewdly across her 
hips to puddle on the velvet spread below. 

And then, suddenly, as the Boxer gave one final spurt of seed into her 
pussy, she jackknifed her legs upward and then downward, collapsing like a 
rag doll; her head lolled to one side, and it was obvious that the magnitude 
of her cumming, of the dog's cumming, had rendered her completely 
unconscious. Her arms splayed out wide, releasing the Boxer, and as its 
rapidly deflating prick pulled from her cunt, trailing a white cobweb of 
animal seed before disappearing once again into its furry sheath, the beast 
licked her sweating, relaxed face several times to show its appreciation. 

The film ended then, abruptly leaving only the white square of light shining 
on the cabin wall in dancing brilliance... 

Ann, driven to heights of mindless, soulless lust by the bestiality she had 
just witnessed and by Garret's hard, throbbing cock imbedded in her softly 
moist vagina, jerked and bucked wildly above the man's heaving loins. Her 
hips were dancing as the young child's in the film had been dancing, 
swirling round and round as she rode up and down Garret's hardened pole of 
male flesh. Vic continued to nibble and suckle her tits, first one, then the 
other, his fingers digging into the soft resilient flesh of her ass cheeks 
as he rocked her down on his cock. He could feel the bloated head pound 
rhythmically against her cervix, could feel the sweet honey of her ragged 
breath exploding against his face as she fucked on top of him like a 
madwoman. Christ, never had it been this good... never... never! She was 
incredible when she got turned on, a woman to match Ali, if ever such a 
woman was born... 

Have to cum, have to cum, have to cum! Ann's passion-crazed brain chanted. 
That's all that matters, have to achieve release, have to cum because 
physical gratification is good and it will be that much better between Mark 
and I... Mark, my beloved Mark is making love to Ali right now, she is doing 
to him what I am doing to Vic... he's going to cum inside her vagina as Vic 
is soon going to cum inside mine, but it doesn't matter because I love him 
and he loves me, we're in love, in love, in love... 

"I'm almost there! I'm almost there!" screamed Ali from the other end of the 
couch. She was bobbing crazily up and down on Mark's pistoning shaft, 
rubbing her tits together frantically as she did so, her lips pulled back 
from her teeth. "Mark, honey... put your finger in my asshole! Shove your 
finger up my asshole, Mark' honey and make me cum... oooooooohhhhhhh!" 

With passion-inspired obedience, Mark took one of his hands from her waist 
and probed at her twisting, churning buttocks. He located the sweat-slick 
valley between them, and she levered up to allow him access to her 
desperately working anus. Then his extended middle finger found the puckered 
nether ring, teased along it for a moment, then slipped inside with the tip. 
He held the digit stiff, and Ali suddenly levered back down again, driving 
his cock hard up against her cervix and burying his finger to the palm in 
the moist, rubbery passage of her rectum. "Aaaaaaaahhhh, that's it, oh God, 
that's it, Mark lover honey baby, all the way up my asshole!" 

She began to rock crazily up and down on the two masculine members in her 
orifices, and then she screamed, "That's it, that's it, I'm there, I'm 
cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cummmiinggg!" 

"Oh Jesus, me too, Ali, me too!" howled Mark, and he felt his balls explode 
his load of fiery white semen up into her belly as she bobbed up and down at 
the same time on his cock and on his finger embedded deep in her wildly 
clasping rectum. His seed flashed again and again and again against her 
cervix and then washed down over his cock to pool on the couch between 
wide-stretched legs... 

The sound of his wife screaming her orgasm triggered Vic Garret's climax. He 
thrust upward with a brutal lunge, eliciting a wail of pain and pleasure 
from Ann's lust-wracked throat, and his balls too erupted his reservoir of 
sticky, milky semen into the young bride's tightly clinging pussy channel. 
Ann felt his burning sperm fire into her, drenching her womb, and she strove 
harder and faster up and down on the pumping prick for her own release. 
Harder and faster, harder and faster, harder and- "Yes, yes, 
yessssssssssss!" she screamed as her cum finally struck with mind-boggling 
impact, washing her soul free from her body and sending it on an 
inexpressibly wonderful journey into the far reaches of the vast, beautiful 
universe... 

Cumming and cumming and cumming... so beautiful, so wonderful. Vic had been 
right because there was nothing unhealthy, nothing wrong, nothing wicked and 
evil involved in something as inherently lovely as cumming like this and 
knowing that when you do it later with someone you really love it will be 
even more rapturous... cumming and cumming and cumming, all through a 
lifetime, cumming and cumming and cumming... 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Ann sat on the couch, one leg bent under her, the other dangling toward the 
floor. She leaned back and smiled, then shook her head, sending her hair 
flying. "Oh, that sun felt nice," she said, "But I don't think I could have 
taken much more of it, Ali. It was hot!" 

Ali smiled back at her. She stood facing the large plate mirror, her weight 
on one hip. She ran a finger under the band of her bathing suit the way a 
woman does - she was wearing a skimpy, bandana sized two-piece bikini - and 
examined one satin thigh. "I wonder if I got any tan yet?" she mused. 

"I don't see how you can tell," Ann said. "You're already a beautiful copper 
color." 

"You really think so?" 

"Definitely," Ann confirmed. "You have that fair kind of skin which picks up 
color very fast. You're a natural blonde." 

Ali chuckled. "You noticed." 

Ann blushed, embarrassed to the reference of what had taken place so 
shamefully the day before. "I... I couldn't help noticing, Ali," she said in 
a low voice. She sat in silence for a moment, her mind going over what had 
happened and the sickness she felt. The "home" movies... those perverted 
strips of celluloid with the dog and the girl... the way the girl had so 
relished the dog's burning tongue and firebrand cock... and then the 
complete abandonment again to her most salacious desires, nakedly abandoning 
her principles as though she was a sex machine unable to turn herself off... 
and then the satiated smugness as she lay with male sperm all around and 
inside her, and the chill of wretchedness as the satiation turned into 
mortification. But she had been tired, so tired from the long morning, and 
it hadn't been until much later that the full impact of her surrender had 
hit. 

The darkened cabin with the wooden shutters drawn... the creaking of the 
ship as it rolled in the sea... the slow, drowsy return to consciousness. 
Her head had felt strangely thick and it had seemed difficult to think 
clearly as she lay there, and every muscle of her body seemed to have been 
tied in tiny knots. 

"It happened... " she had moaned softly to herself, "It happened again... 
and again... and again... " And over and over in her pained mind had come 
the question, why? why had she allowed it to happen? Why? Why? 

She had slipped from the bed, careful not to awaken her still sleeping 
husband, and lurched into the bathroom. She had stared in the mirror, and 
had seen the heavy lines which marred her near virginal skin. Her eyes had 
seemed to have sunk into her sockets as though the night had aged her a 
decade. "No... " she had moaned, "No, it must have been a nightmare... " But 
she knew that it hadn't been a dream, that she had actually lived through 
the obscenely sickening show and the revelry afterwards, and no amount of 
wishing could change that reality. She had looked down at her tender flesh 
and saw the mass of bruises that centered around her breasts and inner 
thighs. Her nipples were raw and even the slight pressure of her exploring 
fingertips had sent sharp waves of pain through them. 

Ann had managed to stumble to the couch, afraid that she was going to vomit. 
Tears and hysteria had welled up in her, but she had steadfastly refused to 
break down. She was her mother's daughter, and no matter what happened to 
her, she was going to keep her torment, her agony inside her. Somehow she 
would face the day... her husband... the Garrets and the Holts. She had 
bitten her lips to keep from crying. By the time Mark was awake, she had 
gained at least an outward control of her senses. 

But now, in the Garret's cabin with Ali she wasn't sure she could keep up 
the charade. The morning had been appalling. Not that anything had happened 
- on the contrary, everybody including Mark had acted as though nothing was 
wrong, that the previous night was spent in some innocent diversion like 
playing bridge! That was as bad, no - worse - than the other way; for there 
was no chance to release her inner torture by confessing her abject misery 
to Mark, or lashing out angrily at the Garrets for perpetrating such gross 
indecency upon her and her new husband. And now, now to have Ali smilingly 
refer to last night, and to give the idea that Ann might have been 
interested in the color of her pubic hair! Ann shivered from the disgusting 
suggestion and sought to change the subject. 

"I wonder when the men will be down?" she asked. 

"Hours from now, if I know Vic. As long as Klaus serves him that dark German 
beer, and as long as the sun is bright, he'll stay in that deck chair as 
though he was rooted to it." She turned back to the mirror. "And Mark has 
been asleep in his chair since breakfast. He really must have been worn out 
from last night." 

Again the sly comment about what had happened... and this time Ann couldn't 
contain a slight whimper of remorse. She wanted Ali to stop, but the woman 
didn't seem to notice her agony, or if she did, she wasn't acknowledging it. 
"... those films always get my blood going, Ann," Ali continued. "That dog's 
got a tongue as long as an anteater's nose, I swear!" 

Ali undipped her bra and shrugged her shoulders, letting the top part of her 
bikini fall to the floor. "Maybe you're right, Ann," she said, "I do have a 
lot of tan." She brought up her hands and cupped her firm, ripe breasts. 
"Quite a tiger stripe I've got," she said with a grin. Then she slowly slid 
the bottom portion of the bathing suit down and stepped out of it. She 
looked at her reflection in the mirror and her hands gently caressed her 
bare thighs and furrowed mound. "Yes, that white skin sure is a contrast." 
She walked over to the couch and sat down beside Ann and stretched 
languorously out. "Ahhhh," she sighed in a liquid voice. "Christ, does it 
feel good to be naked again." 

Ann didn't know what to say. Never had she seen such abandonment of modesty. 
Not even the night before had she been struck by blatant nudity as she was 
now. During her school years she had seen many girls without clothes on, and 
had taken showers and been at slumber parties with them, and their private 
parts had been open and exposed. But there had been the overtones of chaste 
good taste present then, and she had averted her eyes from their areas, and 
they in turn had not flaunted their bareness in front of her, slightly 
embarrassed at the necessary circumstances as she had been. But Ali! She 
relished her nude form; but again, so did nature lovers in those forest 
camps of theirs. Ali had added a sexual aura somehow, as though she was 
constantly in heat, and her form was anything but an asexual bag of muscle 
and flesh. Nudists fought the sensual aspects - Ali heightened them. 

"You... you're planning to take a shower?" Ann asked as she fervently sought 
control. She wanted to cry out for Ali to cover herself, to take stock of 
her shameless condition and cease her parading. But she knew that she 
couldn't and possibly her hint would at least speed up this wild woman's 
actions. 

"Oh, I don't know," Ali replied. "Possibly later." She parted her legs 
slightly, just enough so that the glistening folds of her pussy were 
visible. She moistened her lips several times and her breasts began to rise 
and fall as they pooled against her chest. "Christ, all I can think about is 
last night," she said in a husky voice. "I think of that damned dog and I 
get as hot as the hinges of hell... " she groaned slightly and began to 
rotate her thighs on the cushion. 

Ann tried to avert her eyes from the licentious sight of Ali spread naked 
before her, but in spite of her efforts, she kept returning her attention to 
that perverted triangle of lust, almost hypnotized by the way it undulated, 
and in her agitation, she barely noticed that her own inner thighs were 
beginning to tingle. She unconsciously placed her hands in her lap, pressing 
against the pants of her own, bright yellow two-piece bathing suit in a vain 
attempt to stop the wandering trails of her wetness. 

Then Ali's legs spread wider apart, and her throbbing, pink-slitted vagina 
with its dainty clitoris nestled in its folds was completely exposed to 
Ann's horrified gaze. Ann swallowed hard, her throat dry, and inside her 
stomach was a thousand butterflies. There was something fascinating about 
her pubic area... some strange, grotesque attraction about the soft 
hair-lined flesh which made Ann cringe and yet at the same time lean 
closer... 

Ali ran her hands hotly over her naked body, caressing and kneading her 
flesh and breathing loudly. "Ahhh," she sighed uncontrollably. "Oooh God, 
I'm excited... " Ali let her. hand trail down her body until she was able to 
revolve her fingers in the lust-dampened furrow of her open pussy. Her legs 
bent slightly to allow her roving hand more room to rummage, and then she 
began to massage her cuntal valley faster and faster, and she threw her head 
back, her teeth tight together and her eyes clenched shut. , "Oh, God, 
what... what are you doing to yourself?" screamed Ann. 

"Enjoying... myself... " groaned Ali. The masturbating woman propped one leg 
on the sofa and her heated cunt was splayed wide. Ann could almost smell its 
wafting musk, and to her completely agonized eyes, Ali's probing fingers 
wormed in and out of the wide open vagina, and her other hand teased her 
erect clitoris at the same time. She secreted heavily, and then Ann heard 
the discernable slush-slush sound of her slapping hands as they found and 
broke suction with the clasping, yet dilated hole. "Uuuuuuhhhhh... " moaned 
Ali, her head rolling back and forth in tune with her slick hands. 

"Stop!" Ann cried out in overwhelming shock. "Please, stop this insanity at 
once!" 

"Why?" panted Ali. "Why shouldn't I enjoy myself?" 

What she's doing is wrong! Ann's brain howled. "All wrong! She opened her 
mouth to tell Ali of her thoughts, but in her own emotional agony she could 
only groan and tremble. She then sensed the deep wetness which had been 
unconsciously building in her own vagina, and with building fear, she was 
forced to admit to herself that she had been sitting here in ever-increasing 
excitement, and that her hips had been grinding in response to Ali's sexual 
perversions. She tried to retain control of her body, but then her eyes 
locked on the whipping fingers beside her, and the hold on her senses began 
to diminish. 

"I'm... sorry for... you, Ann," Ali said between undulations. "I can see 
your... consternation... and that you are... still unable to... give of 
yourself... freely!" She leaned over and began to rub her torso against 
Ann's body, her full warm breasts sliding along Ann's shoulders and her hot 
thighs against the yellow material of Ann's bathing suit bottom. "If you'd 
only be honest with yourself, you'd... see that... you would... like sex, 
and not think... it was dirty!" 

"I don't think of sex as dirty," protested Ann in a thick voice. "I... I 
just don't approve of what you're doing." 

"Why not? I'm aroused and excited and I'm seeking release, that's all. It's 
natural, just like what we did last night was natural. Passion is a very 
strong emotion and can be expressed in many different ways." 

"But passion by itself can't produce happiness." 

"No? Well, I can tell you that I'm making myself happy right now... and that 
Mark made me happy last night. And I know damned well that Vic made you 
happy a time or two." 

Ann felt a strange faintness creep over her. She knew that what Ali was 
doing to herself, this lurid display of self-abusement, was wrong. Her 
mother had told her so, hadn't she? Had said it would lead to pimples and 
rotting of the brain, and worse... yet when she tried to clear her mind in 
order to argue back, she found that it was blurred with her sexual arousals. 
All she could do was sit dazed, overwhelmed by Ali's masturbating hands and 
mesmerizing words. Wrong, she repeated to herself... but was it? She shook 
her head, confused... 

Ali was rubbing Ann's thigh with her right hand, now, her left one still at 
play in the inner recesses of her cunt. She whispered further indecencies in 
Ann's ears, and Ann breathed heavier and heavier. She began to rock back and 
forth on the sofa, utterly captivated by Ali's soothing tone and touch. She 
couldn't believe the same depraved and licentious reactions were running on 
the verge of rampancy through her for a third time in three days, and that 
she wanted more and more experience in sex. 

Oh God, when will this nightmare end? She cried out her torment and fought 
to twist away and shut her eyes from Ali's slithering fingers, but it was as 
if every brain cell had snapped from insane lust. 

Ali continued to caress and fondle both herself and Ann's quivering leg, and 
then, when she felt that the proper moment had presented itself, she took 
her hand from Ann's flesh and slowly began to massage her breast. She 
slipped her fingers under the cup of her suit and slid them up, over her 
alabaster breasts. Ali mewled with passions unrestrained as she viewed Ann's 
twin hillocks of womanhood, and she drank of their beauty and savored the 
budding nipples. They were beautiful, she thought, almost as beautiful as a 
man's monstrous member and hot, hairy body... but occasionally it was nice 
to touch the creamy skin of another woman, and feel the velvety sweetness. 
Especially a young woman like Ann, who had just been awakened to her hidden 
depths of sexuality. 

Ali continued to encircle Ann's breasts with her one hand and slide over and 
in her own cuntal passages. She watched the nipples grow and she continued 
to talk in cooing tones in Ann's ear about how nice she was and how lovely 
her body was, and how good the fingers were on her skin... 

All this time Ali was stroking her breasts and sides and stomach, Ann was 
moaning slightly, her hips gyrating in the pagan beat of intercourse. It did 
feel lovely, just as Ali said... so lovely and nice and soft... and as Ali 
began to tug at the young bride's bathing suit bottom, she found herself 
unable to halt her automatic responses. No! Stop this! I don't want a woman 
to touch me THERE! she screamed internally, but obligingly she lifted her 
buttocks and allowed Ali to remove the thin panties. Oh God! Please let me 
stop her... please... her mind screamed in silent prayer. 

Yet she still was unable to break the binding emotions which held her to the 
sofa. Dream-like she saw her suit bottom pool around her bare feet, and then 
the sliding, almost snake-like creeping of Ali's long-nailed fingers across 
her now bare thigh. She moaned in total agony, but now beyond the ability to 
stop she spread her inner thighs to the woman beside her. Ali leaned over, 
her fingers now gently wrapped in the soft velveteen curls of Ann's pubic 
triangle, and when her nail touched the little clitoris, both females 
moaned. 

Ali continued to slide her hand up and down the trembling slit of Ann's 
fire-infernoed cunt, and then she kissed the palpitating belly and the 
little round hump of her abdomen. She licked lower and lower, until her head 
was buried in Ann's lap, and all Ann could see was the tight-clipped curls 
of her head as she slavored at her lower belly... and all the while she used 
her other hand to part the hungry hairs of her own pussy and stroke her 
vulva with increasing lathers of perversion. 

Ann clawed at Ali's hair. Stop! Dear God! I must stop her before I 
completely lose my mind! She wants to kiss me... nooooooo! With mind-blowing 
horror she realized exactly what desire was flooding through Ali's warped 
brain. Nooooo! I can't let her do this to meeeee! I would never allow even 
my husband kissing me between the legs, of touching his lips to my vagina... 
I would never let him do it... I certainly can't allow another woman to do 
it! 

But in spite of her most fervent prayers, her efforts were to no avail. She 
felt the first hot tingling contact of moist female tongue upon her cunt, 
and as Ali's experienced kisses engulfed Ann's pussy channel, she 
capitulated to the torment of her unfulfilled yearnings. As hard as she 
fought the truth, her physical body responded automatically to the built-in 
conditioning of instinctive drives, and although she had been trained to 
view both cunnilingus and lesbianism with utter repudiation, she found that 
the taunting feelings between her legs was too good to resist. As though she 
was in the throes of dying, she moaned loudly and passionately, and she sunk 
back to the sofa until she was almost prone, and let the swiftly moving 
tongue and flickering lips radiate her body with overwhelming bursts of 
aphrodesia. Her head swam as Ali licked and sucked her tender, 
blood-engorged cavern, and she began to drive her hips forward, against the 
hot-breathing mouth as she mewled with unsatisfied sensations. 

Ali groaned and hissed, reaching for her own release with her one hand as 
she grazed Ann's clitoris and stroked and invaded her vaginal orifice with 
her mouth and licked the wet furrow with eel-like tenacity... 

And suddenly the door opened! 

Both women froze, Ali looking up from between Ann's widespread thighs her 
finger still resting on her erect clitoris, and the other hand still buried 
in her own lust-aroused cunt. Lucy, gripped by absolute terror of being 
discovered in the practice of lesbianistic involvement, felt the 
overwhelming need to jump up, to run and escape - but Ali held her tightly 
with head and arm draped in her loins, and she was unable to move, and could 
only stare up at the man who stood smiling in the doorway. 

It was Michael Holt. 

He was wearing a pair of lime green trunks about the size of a shrunken 
jock-strap, and his belly hung over the tops of them and shadowed his 
prominent bulge of manhood. He was hairier and thicker than Ann had imagined 
him to be, but what made him more frightening to her was the strange leer 
which was on his face. 

"Well! What have we here?" he chuckled obscenely, and stepped inside the 
cabin. "Go right ahead, girls; don't mind me." 

"Ooooooohhhhh, God!" Ann wailed, "What are you doing here? Oh God, what are 
you here for?" 

"Well, I was looking for Vic, and thought he might be in here, what with all 
the noise I've been hearing next door." He took another step forward so that 
he was very close to Ann, and then he smiled evilly, "But I think I've 
changed my reason for coming." 

Ann felt herself blush crimson all over, or so it seemed, and some of her 
rational thoughts came back to her as the first shock of being caught began 
to fade slightly. Still, she was unable to move, to get up from the sofa and 
gather her clothing and run... 

"I don't think that whatever Vic is doing can be better than this." His grin 
was wide across his face. "And of course three is always preferable to two." 

"Oh, please go away," Ann moaned. "I... " 

"Don't worry, Ann," Ali said with a soft chuckling sound. "Michael is one of 
us." 

"What? Mike is... " 

"That's right, baby," Holt said. "Why do you think we take these trips 
together? So we can have a grand fuck for days on end... and usually we can 
get the other passengers going, too." His hands can were rubbing his thighs 
now, and the bulge in his green trunks was growing... growing before Ann's 
terrified eyes like a swelling balloon. She could see the rigid outline of 
his cock as it rammed in increasing hardness up the fabric, its head almost 
breaking the elastic barrier around the top... with a cry of extreme terror 
and mortification welling in her chest, she tried to squirm from the couch, 
to pull her still throbbing vagina from Ali's fevered mouth, but Ali's hands 
were still entangled in her pubic hair and hips and she could only continue 
to whimper as Holt played with the front of his shorts. 

Ali clasped her to the sofa more firmly. "It's all right, Ann," she crooned. 
"Just relax and enjoy it!" 

"No, no I can't!" Ann babbled frantically. How could Ali lie there so calmly 
and unashamed? This terrible man with his demon penis so near to my face! 
How could she tell me to relax and enjoy ? 

"What a delightful little scene you two are making," Holt chided. "Ali 
sucking you while she was jerking herself off, fingering that nice cunt of 
hers." His eyes were shining lanterns of lust, and a faint trace of spittle 
formed at the corners of his mouth. He breathed in short wheezes as he 
glared down at Ann's beautiful young innocence, at her breasts with their 
cherry-tip nipples and at her perfectly formed thighs and legs, and the 
continuing form of Ali as she stretched out in pagan splendor beyond... 

Ann knew that her vagina was flowing again. That although she could not see 
her cuntal mouth, she could feel the seeping juices matting her pubic hair, 
and as she continued to stare at Holt's tightly protruding trunks, she felt 
a strangely perverse desire build in her. It was the desire Ali's 
masturbation had aroused and the subsequent kissing of her vagina had 
further whetted, and which was so close... yet so far... from being 
satisfied. Perversely, contrary to her most fervent hopes and desires, the 
pressure of her erogenous upheavals were climbing yet higher. Her breath 
began to match Holt's in ragged tempo, and she ran her tongue gingerly over 
her lips and began to tremble violently. There was something fundamentally 
erotic about her naked position and his; something which she could not deny. 

I'm sick... I'm so sick! I have to stop this! 

And then, as if the devil were answering, Ali dipped her lips teasingly back 
between Ann's thighs. 

"Aaaahhhhh!" Ann cried out in abject surrender. She lifted her buttocks off 
the sofa and shuddered, but her writhings only seemed to glue the woman's 
mouth to her cunt tighter. She was torn between the mortification and terror 
of being confronted by this bear of a man before her... this Michael Holt 
who for some perverted, deranged reason seemed to be fascinated by her 
entrapment... and by the ravaging hurricane which was boiling through her 
vaginal walls. Her senses and modesty were torn to shreds before the storm 
which Ali was exploding within her. 

"My trunks, Ann!" Holt cried hoarsely, "Slide my trunks off! I want you to 
take my cock in your hands while she's sucking you!" 

The obscene lewdness of his foul command caused Ann to roll still more 
passionately. She twisted against Ali's lickings, her mind blank to 
everything - her self-loathing, the carnality of her situation - and 
mindlessly she slid her hands up his hairy thighs and over his sweat-slick 
waistband. She hooked her fingers inside and Holt sucked his breath in, and 
then she began to draw the suit down over his groin. 

She managed to get it halfway down, but the monstrous hardness of his great 
cock prevented her from removing it more, and almost frantically, Holt 
helped her. His hands jerked at the material and finally his hard, fleshy 
penis flipped into view the way a leg on a card table snaps into position. 

It was large and curved, like a giant Saracen sword. His shaft was like a 
shovel handle in girth, purplish with veins and reddish from passion. Its 
turgid head glistened maniacally and his hands encircled his immense cock 
and began to stroke it back and forth as he reveled in the soft excited 
moans, which escaped from Ann's throat as Ali manipulated both the bride's 
and her own cunts with frenzied determination. 

"Suck me," groaned Holt. "Put my cock in your mouth and suck me, baby!" 

"No, no I can't do that!" mewled Ann, "Nooooo, don't make me!" 

"You teasing little bitch!" shouted Holt. He reached down and grabbed a 
handful of her long, black tresses and pulled on them, forcing her 
protestingly nearer to the edge of the sofa. He got down on his knees, his 
hand still tightly entwined in her hair, and his cock slowly quivered under 
the tip of her nose. "Suck me off, you hear?" 

"Please," she cried out. "Please noooooo!" 

"Open those lips," Holt snarled, and he jerked on her hair again, causing a 
short gasp of pain to slip from her. He pressed forward and brushed the 
slickened head of his prick over her lips. She started to plead for mercy 
again, but it came out muffled and low as he pushed the sound back down her 
throat with his throbbing cock's sudden entrance. He pushed her pale face 
forward some more and slid his firm yet fleshy shaft into her saliva-rich 
mouth. 

"Suck," he hissed again. 

Oh God, he's lost his mind, flickered through Ann's tortured brain. He'll 
kill me if I don't!!! 

Ann closed her eyes, her humiliation and loathing for what she was doing 
past all bounds. She felt numb to the cabin around her, devoid of feeling, 
and her lips began to slowly nibble his hardened penis in fear of what he 
might do if she refused further. She coughed until she became accustomed to 
this unnatural invasion and tried not to think of what she was doing, but it 
was impossible not to. His testicles bounced against her chin and there was 
an odor of semen around his genitals which filled her nostrils with the 
constant reminder of the cruel act she was forced to commit. 

"Oooooohhhhh, baby, that's it! That's it!" Holt began to chant, and he 
pumped into her tightly ovaled mouth with fevered strokes. "That's it! Milk 
it! Milk it!" He used his hands in her hair to make her head move in the 
tempo with his jerking loins, unmindful of any pain it might be causing Ann. 

Down between her open legs, Ali was thrusting herself forward with great 
sawing lunges of her darting tongue, and made bestial sounds deep in her 
throat as her mouth and lips continued their lewd invasion of her now 
hungrily throbbing cuntal passage. And suddenly, losing all control a gasp 
of total lust escaped from between Ann's overfull mouth, and suddenly she 
found herself moving forward as if she wanted more of Holt's immense cock 
slicing her cheeks. And in that moment all the pain and terror and 
humiliation swept from her mind, leaving a new and stronger basic emotion. 
The emotion of sexual need! Her thighs clasped around Ali's flaying head as 
she seemed wonderfully filled with the woman's magic tongue. She worked her 
lips and teeth in a wild symphony of lascivious notes as she played upon the 
groaning Holt's hardened organ like a bitch gone insane. Oh God, she gasped 
to herself as the newly discovered awakening became reality to her brain. Oh 
God, I like it! I like this stranger's penis in my mouth and Ali's kissing 
lips upon my vagina... ohhhhh I never dreamed anything this perverted could 
be so good and wonderful... 

She buffeted back against the sweetly nibbling face of Ali as she felt the 
first tentative waves of her climax seize hold of her. Her tongue and lips 
swirled around Holt's near-exploding prick, and she let little mewlings of 
pleasure escape from around it. Yes... yes... her own orgasm was almost 
there, in direct cadence with Holt's and Ali's. It won't be long now! 

Holt gave a sudden, high-pitched roar and his pummeling shaft drove forward 
in her mouth, and he worked demon-like with long, brutal lunges against her 
larynx. "I'm cumming... I'm cumming... I'm... I'm cummmiiinnnggggg!!!!" 

"Yes, yes me toooo!" came the muffled cry of Ali from deep inside Ann's 
vaginal valley. Her body thrashed out and she twisted and chewed with madly 
sucking lips on the young girl's tender pussy, fingers flailing in her own 
cunt. 

Yesssss... so am I... so am I! Ann screamed internally. Oooohhhhh 
yyyyyeeesssss I'm cummmmiiinnngggg! Aaaaaaggggghhhhh!!! 

She felt Holt's cock as he jerked convulsively and a great burning surge of 
his hot, thick cream of sperm flooded her mouth. She swallowed and 
swallowed, wondering mindlessly if his balls were somehow a never-ending 
cauldron, and the steaming liquid coursed down her throat and pooled in her 
stomach. He filled her mouth again and again, until no matter how tightly 
she held her lips over his spasming rod, his semen still gushed forth and 
flowed down her chin and dripped to the floor. 

Ann's own climax happened then; a wild and intense release that shook her 
womb and opened the floodgates so her vaginal juices poured forth and 
drowned with their female essence Ali's still swirling tongue. She barely 
heard the older woman's final scream of orgasm, but felt her face heave in a 
final lunge against her cunt. In that moment she half insane with the 
rapture she felt, and for a few mindless, soulless moments she knew of 
nothing except the deflating cock draining slowly in her mouth and the deep, 
satisfying quivering that rippled for a seeming eternity down between her 
open thighs. 

She lay warm and lethargic, completely fulfilled, and without any shame at 
all. What was the purpose of kidding herself any longer? It had served no 
function except to deceive her and stop her from enjoying her body. She had 
truly, undeniably enjoyed the lewd, salacious rape of her mouth by Holt 
while Ali's hot throbbing tongue wormed around in her vagina. The perverted 
seance a trois had produced an orgasm of unequalled brilliance, and she 
wanted it to be repeated over and over again. Gone now forever were all her 
prudish moral restrictions. She had become a woman of the flesh - and 
stopped being her mother's daughter - and now all that mattered was the 
beauteous satiation which flowed like claret wine through her veins. She 
knew that physical gratification was her personal Nirvana, and that she 
looked forward to whatever other lewd perversions might further be in store 
for her. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

For Ann, the rest of the week sped by on wings. After her wild initiation 
into group orgy, and then the more lewd and perverted practices perpetrated 
on her aroused body by Ali and Michael Holt that third day out, Ann was 
overcome by her now unchained emotions. Her well-ingrained moral code 
pleaded with her to stop these horrid, defiling actions, but then her body 
would surrender again, egging her on to further lust-enriching experiences. 

She was confused much of the time, searching her soul for definite answers 
to Man's age-old dilemma of ethics, and with no more success than the sages 
of the centuries. Vic Garret talked to her and Mark of the fact that there 
are no set, universal mores to life; but rather that the society and the 
individual decide on what is right or wrong... and as her young, innocent 
but willing mind soaked up his teachings like a thirsty sponge, she began to 
feel better and less guilty over her transgressions. 

Then there were other times, when she shed her clothes and inhibitions and 
joined in group sex with trepidation at first, and then with surprising 
zeal. Mark constantly commented afterwards about how surprised he was over 
the enthusiasm she showed at such times, considering her past of prudish 
behavior. It was almost as if he was a little afraid of the fires that had 
been started in her - and once he had actually berated himself for being the 
cause of it. He had raped her that first night, he had said, and then in his 
mindless lust had allowed Ali to seduce him, and that he, not Ann, should 
bear the brunt of these indiscretions. 

And then Ann suddenly found herself defending their newfound position. She 
had looked back in mind and word at the sweet virgin who had been shy before 
her husband's bed, and she could see the error of her ways. It was bound to 
happen, she had argued, for she was a woman, a full-blooded female with 
drives and yearnings which if she had been honest with herself, would have 
been allowed expression long before this voyage. She felt sorry for the girl 
who had boarded this ship, she had said, and sorry for other women entrapped 
by sterile and binding conventions of a previous century. But that was over, 
and now in the place of chains was a hungry cavernous maw which needed 
constant filling. 

And Mark filled it. Over and over his throbbing cock sawed in and out of her 
thrill-seeking vagina, and as she locked her legs around her husband's 
driving buttocks, and her arms around his back, she knew instinctively that 
she was on the right path. She loved Mark with more than just soul - she 
loved him physically, giving and receiving all the pleasure Nature had built 
into her. 

Not only Mark filled her physical needs, but so did the Garrets, and upon 
occasion, the Holts. It seemed as though when she wasn't being made love to 
by her husband, she was sliding up and down the lust-hardened cock of Vic 
Garret, or letting his wife kiss and suck her cunt - which, Ann discovered, 
brought intense happiness to the woman. Nights were spent in abandoned 
revelry, interrupted by discussions of politics or sports or whatever as the 
couples rested. Mark had been thoroughly shocked when he found out that his 
wife had sucked Michael Holt's penis before she had sucked his, but he soon 
got over that infantile jealousy when she showed him what she had learned... 

She had showed him, mastering his cock with her lips and tongue as she 
expertly drew the sperm from his testicles. She had not confessed her active 
part as she had when she had first been fucked by Vic Garret - she reveled 
in the fact that she had tasted a male organ and liked its strange 
piquancy,- and her eyes had smouldered and then her whole body caught fire 
as Vic prodded her with his raging lust. 

And yet, in those off hours which were not filled with eating or sleeping, 
or erotic games, Ann still found herself questioning... and every time she 
did, the same answer kept repeating itself. She enjoyed the lascivious, 
carnal pleasures of the flesh, and as long as it did not threaten harm to 
her marriage, she was going to enjoy them. They certainly didn't seem to be 
harmful to her relationship with Mark; in fact, just the opposite. It was as 
Garret had prophesied: greater harmony and love had been achieved, and if 
there was a greater proof to the success of this new venture, Ann knew of 
none. 

So on the last night of the voyage to the Virgin Islands, Ann felt a strange 
combination of thrills and reticence as she sat at dinner. Kurt served the 
rump steak and creamed carrots and then the Bavarian creme dessert with his 
customary aplomb, and the table conversation was trivial and bantering, with 
most of it centered on what sights they would see in St. Thomas, and where 
the Garrets would take Mark and Ann, as they had been there many times 
before, and the Holts adding their suggestions. 

Ann and Mark had stayed in their cabin since noon, exploring the depths of 
their passions as though there was no tomorrow. For some unknown reason she 
had not wanted to go swimming in the pool or sun out on the deck, but 
instead stayed in the somewhat muggy stateroom and frolicked with her new 
husband in the nude. There was the love juice on the sheets to prove the 
prowess of his drives, and the remembrance of bending over for the soap in 
the shower that let Ann know how well he liked her full rounded body... and 
as Ann talked across the table to the Garrets, she realized that the odd 
feeling of disquiet which had made her wish for reclucity on this day was 
one of intense love for her husband, a love which had transcended the desire 
to socialize, a love which had to be expressed in long, wonderful, physical 
couplings. 

Yet there was no satisfied languidness to her now, no idyllic peacefulness 
soothing the fires of passion. She sat in her brief halter and shorts, 
trying to keep her composure but inwardly becoming more excited. Her chest 
felt constricted and she breathed heavily as her eyes darted from each of 
the others as the joking continued. Her pussy was tingling... ever 
tingling... and she could feel the nipples of her tender breasts harden like 
granite beneath the thin material. Her hand stroked Mark's leg under the 
table, and she could sense his mounting desire. There was nothing said, but 
needn't have been - everybody was aware of what inevitably lay ahead on this 
warm, balmy night. 

They had been drinking all throughout the meal, and when Kurt had provided 
another round after dessert, the six of them trooped out on deck for some 
air. There was a lull to the conversation as they all looked at the 
shimmering black water around them, and at the spider web of sea-froth the 
ship threw aside as it knifed away the miles. Ann licked her dry lips and 
gazed over at Vic Garret with eyes that were slightly glazed from the liquor 
and the heat of her rising passions. Mark could feel hot eyes on his body, 
too, and when he raised his head to seek out their source, he found Harriet 
Holt staring with open sensuality on her smiling face. 

Holt crossed to Ali and slid his hand around her waist. Ann caught her 
breath as she noticed that his tight pants had a noticeable bulge from his 
hardened cock. "Let's go for a swim, Ali," Holt said in a husky voice. "I'm 
hot." 

Ali grinned back, stretching her arms so that her mountain-sized breasts 
pulled taut against her thin velour shirt. "I don't want to go all the way 
back to the cabin for my suit, Mike." 

"I'm not wearing one underneath my pants," Holt said with a lewd grin. "I 
didn't figure on needing one." 

"What? You mean you want to skinny dip?" Ali's voice was teasingly 
horrified. "Now?" 

"Yeah, right now. With nothing but the moon between us." 

"What about the crew?" 

"They can join in if they want... and if you think you could handle them 
all." 

Vic Garret laughed and Ann found herself giggling as well. It won't be long 
now, she thought, caught up in the erotic conversation. I can't wait much 
longer... and I can tell Mark can't either. His penis is as hard as 
Michael's, bulging out of his bermudas... and Harriet is eyeing his cock and 
wriggling her thighs as if her pussy is as hot as mine... 

"I don't think I should, lover," All retorted, "Because you always get a 
hard on in the water." 

"Damn right I do. But don't worry about the crew seeing it. You'll be hiding 
it between those long legs of yours the whole time." 

Ali laughed at that and then turned to rub her breasts against his chest. 
"Let's go then, Mike. I don't believe you!" 

They crossed to the steps leading to the after deck, and disappeared from 
view? Ann moaned inwardly and pressed her buttocks against the white 
railing. They're going to the pool and fuck... yes, and FUCK is the right 
word... and now there's only Mark and I and Vic and Harriet. Vic for me, and 
Mark for Harriet... that's the way it's going to be... the first time. And 
then there will be other combinations. Ali and Michael will come to the 
cabin where we'll be, and then they will want to join in again... and 
again... and again... 

Ann couldn't contain the mewling of pure animal lustings which escaped from 
her constricted throat. She wanted a man... any man... any cock... NOW, and 
she sipped her drink with trembling lips and turned back to her husband. He 
was in an impassioned discussion with Vic Garret, talking of the American 
abroad with all the intensity of a person totally oblivious to what was 
going on around him, and Vic was conversing with just as much enthusiasm as 
though he was not aware that his wife had just walked off with another man 
to swim in the nude and screw in the water. 

Ann sidled up to her husband and rubbed against him, her hand cupping around 
his groin tantalizingly. She found the sac of his testicles nestled in his 
thighs, and the long, thick cudgel of his erect penis as it lay against his 
left leg, trapped by the restricting bermudas. She remembered from when he 
had dressed before dinner that he was not wearing any underpants, and with 
the perversity of a female predatory animal in heat, she slowly fingered his 
zipper... 

Mark gasped with the sudden touch to his privates, and faltered in his 
conversation. "I... that is, uh... no American likes to be taken in a 
foreign land." 

Garret grinned as he saw what Ann was doing. 

Ann looked up with wide, innocent eyes at her husband. "Go on, Mark. Don't 
let me stop you. I want to hear about Americans being taken abroad. I know a 
broad who loves to take any American she can." 

This time Garret guffawed, and Harriet chuckled too. Mark grinned and 
blushed slightly, but managed to continue. "Ann, Vic doesn't believe that we 
should bend over backwards when we're in a strange land... I mean, that we 
shouldn't stop a native from giving us the shaft... no, that came out wrong 
too. Damnit, if you don't stop what you're doing, I'm going to tear into you 
right here." 

"Save it for Harriet," Ann cooed. "I've got my hot sights on your friend 
here. I'm sure he won't mind going native with me." 

"Not at all," leered Garret. "But your husband does have a point." 

"A damned fine one," Mark said. "I really believe that our poor image 
overseas is because we look like a bunch of suckers to the people, throwing 
money around like water, rather than having some respect for it like they 
do." 

"And I say that when I go on vacation I plan to enjoy myself, and to hell 
with what they think. Why should I care? I'll never be seeing them again," 
Garret retorted. 

"The ugly American in person," Mark replied, shaking his head. "The world is 
too small these days not to care about other countries and what they think. 
Most of them are democracies where we visit, and if we show them that we're 
nothing but a bunch of boobs, they might vote Communistic... vote for the 
group who seem strong and cagy and more likely to win." 

"Bull shit. Who's going to think that? Europe? We bailed them out of two 
wars, for Christ's sake. We saved their asses." 

"Sure. And look at France. They despise us, just the same way a beggar 
despises the hand that feeds him. A soft touch, a dumb and innocent babe 
ready to be plucked... and with your attitude, that's exactly what they see 
when you visit them." 

"So what do you advise?" - Garret asked sarcastically. "The we stop going 
there? That we stop aid and friendship?" 

"Hell, no, I'm all for aid, and the Marshall Plan, and CARE when it was 
needed. But it isn't now, and when I go to Paris, I don't want to be 
considered some rube off the farm. I want to be respected as a thoughtful 
intelligent citizen of the most powerful country in the world. I want to be 
a little envied, I guess, because I think being an American is something to 
be envied, and not sneered at. And I can see that if we. don't play their 
rules in their country, we will be considered crass and stupid and childish. 
And one rule is that you don't take crap from anybody. You don't let them 
push you around." 

"You push them around instead, I suppose?" Ann asked. 

"Of course not, honey. All I'm saying is that one should be aware of their 
customs and language and con-games, and stop them from doing it to you - 
even if you can afford their little take." 

"And I still say that being the world power gives us the privilege of being 
catered to." Garret rapped his hand on the railing for emphasis. 

"Dammit, we earned the position, and if they don't like the way we are, 
that's their tough shit. I'm not changing for any monkey, let me tell you. 
And to give you an example of that, English has replaced French as the world 
language. It's now taught as the second language in most countries, and 
wherever I go, I expect that I will speak my tongue, and not theirs because 
I'm in an economic and social position to require it. And you better believe 
I will spend money carelessly, because I've earned that right as well. If 
some laborer in East Ubangi works for 20 cents a day and starves, that's his 
luck... I don't have to whittle my budget down to his scale just to try and 
please him." He paused to sip his drink and then added, "And if he thinks of 
me as a sucker, then he's stupider, for he's beneath me." 

Ann had had enough of this controversial talk. She could feel her cunt throb 
with the building juices, and the crotch of her shorts began to soak up some 
of the seeping lubricants. She rubbed her hand harder along Mark's leg, and 
he groaned with sudden sexual fever. 

"Speaking of what's below a sucker," she smiled coyly at Garret, "Why don't 
we go to your cabin and find out? I could be the sucker, if you like, and 
you could be beneath me... " She let the idea percolate through Garret's 
mind, and as it did, a wide, salacious grin spread across his face. It won't 
be long now, she thought to herself as Garret reached for her, and I'm 
hornier than I thought. First I'm going to kiss his penis, and then there 
will be other new and more fun combinations... 

Mark watched with mixed emotions as Vic Garrett took Ann by the hand, 
guiding her staggering steps and weaving body as they walked toward the 
cabin. Ann was inebriated, there was no doubt of that in Mark's mind; 
inebriated and uninhibited because of the liquor. Perhaps if she hadn't 
drunk so much, she wouldn't have been so free with her words, so blatantly 
obvious with her burning desires... and then there was no more time to be 
concerned with the fate of his bride, for Harriet was beside him, smoothing 
her hands down her sides, then up again to cup her breasts in a provocative 
pose. Her eyes were burning and hungry, and her wet, pink tongue darted like 
a dancing snake over her lips. "Come on, Mark honey," she breathed heatedly, 
"It's time for us, now." 

Mark swallowed and his cock ached as it beat against the cloth of his 
bermudas. In the background were the shrieks and yells of Ali and Holt in 
the otherwise deserted pool and the soft lappings of the ocean against the 
ship... 

Slowly, Harriet turned, her sensual eyes locked on Mark's protuberance 
between his legs. With feline grace, she slowly unhooked the halter she was 
wearing and let it fall to the deck. Mark groaned as the full, pure white, 
ruby-tipped breasts hove into full view like the sudden appearance of snow 
covered mountains from a fog bank. 

"Take them, honey," she commanded. "Play with them, and kiss them. Now." 

"The cabin... " he started to say. 

"In a while. Right now I want to be out here, right in the open air, and 
have you play with my tits." She squeezed them in emphasis, the nipples 
erect and inviting, and then Mark mindlessly brought his hands up to cup 
hers and the delicious mounds, and he ran his thumb and forefinger over the 
turgid buds, and then took one in his mouth and began to suck as if he was a 
hungry child breastfeeding. Low moans of growing passion came from Harriet's 
throat as he sucked and fondled... 

Ann brushed against Vic Garret, squirming under his grip as they made their 
way down the hall to the cabin. She shivered from his touch on her body. She 
couldn't help it, for she had had too much to drink she realized, and the 
alcohol seemed to release her inner spirit - the spirit of sex. And whenever 
she was around Vic Garret, the only thing she could think about was sex. Her 
body reacted responsively, sending ripples of pleasure and desire swirling 
throughout her flesh. 

Kurt came around the corner from the pantry, and smiled at them as he 
stopped to let them pass. 

"Guten Abend," he said cheerfully. "Can I get you anything? " 

"No... no," Ann replied, and she shook her head nervously. Damn, why was 
that man always around at the wrong times? Here she was, all but embracing 
another man, and this fat German steward was right there, all eyes and ears. 
He seemed to grin at her embarrassment, and then as she passed him, he 
almost seemed to be mentally undressing her. His hand came in contact with 
the smooth curve of her buttocks, seemed to linger there for a split second 
longer than necessary as though his touch was no accident. 

And Vic... what was the matter with him? Was that a wink he gave to Kurt? 
No... no, that couldn't be right. It was pure imagination and nothing more. 
She was on edge tonight, it being the last night before docking and 
everything... sort of the culmination to the trip. 

Once inside the Garret's cabin, she felt a great deal better, as though the 
door being shut made her actions proper and livable. She looked up at 
Garret, who was breathing heavily and raking her firm bride's body with 
lustful gaze. "I want you," he whispered hoarsely. 

"Yes, Vic... take me... " she moaned almost incoherently. 

He wrapped his powerful, all-enveloping arms around her, nearly crushing the 
wind from her lungs. They kissed long and hard, their tongues sliding in and 
out of one another's mouths, licking their lips and feeling the ridges along 
the roof and pooling their saliva in a passionate whirlpool of sensuality. 

Then his hands dipped lower, cupping her breasts, while still maintaining 
the lover's embrace. The soft buds of her breasts rose to full erection, and 
she could feel his blood-engorged cock slip along her thigh and belly as he 
rubbed against her flesh. Tremors of flaming lust eddied deep in the core of 
her stomach, and she responded by grinding her pelvis into his penis. 

"Damn you, Vic," she seethed from beneath clenched teeth. "You set me on 
fire, you know you do. I can't resist you... Ohhhhhh... " she moaned, her 
eyes closed as she yielded her succulent womanhood to his delicious 
manipulations. Her hips began to rotate in time with his hands as they moved 
still lower, down and then across the bare flat plane of her velvety smooth 
belly. His finger tips paused tantalizingly at the waistband of her shorts. 

"Uhhhhhhh," she gasped heatedly. "Lower, Vic, touch me lower. Oh Christ, I 
think I'm so hot I'm going to explode!" 

Vic chuckled faintly, in a low, obscene ripple of lasciviousness, and then 
he slipped his hand inside her shorts, caressing the soft rounded skin of 
her lower abdomen. She wriggled so that his hand went a little lower... and 
he grazed her soft resilient pubic hair. She shuddered and pressed against 
him... and then his finger found the pulsating little nub of her clitoris, 
and he flicked it teasingly. 

"Ohhhhhhh... ohhhhhhhhh," she groaned uncontrollably. 

"Come on, Ann, baby, I want you to do what you promised out there on deck. I 
want you to suck my cock. I want you to put my hot penis into the soft mouth 
of yours, rub those sweet lips up and down it and fan that black hair around 
my belly and balls and lick and suck and kiss me... " His lewd words drove 
any last-minute thoughts of propriety from Ann's liquor-fogged mind. Her 
young, still-inexperienced cunt was soaked in anticipatory moisture, and the 
palm of his hand was slipping gently over her vaginal hole. God, I want him! 
she cried out to herself, I want to suck him just as he ordered me to. I 
want to feel that mammoth cock of his buried to my throat, fucking in and 
out of my mouth. I don't care about anything else in this whole world except 
Vic Garret's hard, exciting penis! 

"Yes, Vic... yes, yes... anything you want. I want to please you... 
ohhhhhh!" She put her tongue back in his mouth in a simulated action of what 
his cock would be like in her mouth, and then she bit his lips gently while 
her hips ground harder and faster against him and the maelstrom of lust 
which was her body now boiled uncontrollably. 

Garret continued his maddening encircling of her clitoris and cunt, and he 
began to lead her toward the door to Holt's cabin. "In there... in Holt's 
cabin, Ann," he said, "In case the others come back and want to use this 
bed... " Obediently, still clinging to him, with his hand still insinuated 
inside her shorts, Ann allowed Vic Garret to take her into the adjoining 
cabin. There, in front of the freshly made bed, he kissed her long and hard 
and then stepped away and began to shed his few clothes. 

"Strip, Baby!" he ordered feverishly. "Get out of that sun suit and be 
naked!" 

She pulled and tore at the two binding garments, her mind mesmerized with 
lust, her eyes slavishly held to Garret's suddenly exposed cock, gigantic 
and throbbing and angrily purplish as it jerked in the air with 
anticipation. 

Garret fell back on the bed, spreading his legs and thighs wide to allow her 
room to kneel between them. 

Wild with seething emotions, the young bride took advantage of his mute 
offer and crouched there, her knees touching his hirsute flesh, and her 
hands resting gently on his upper thighs where they molded into his groin. 
She lowered her head, her eyes feasting on her target, her moistened lips 
parted... And then she slowly slipped ,her famished mouth down over the 
smooth, rubbery head of his cock and she began to suck him softly, running 
her tongue wetly around and around the tip and teasing his dilated glans 
slit agonizingly with the tip of her tongue. 

Then, with a cry of abandoned desire gushing from her mouth, she bobbed 
faster and faster over the shaft of manly flesh, sucking and kissing with 
complete slavishness, her tongue flashing and Garret's buttocks churning 
wildly on the bedspread. His hands wrapped themselves in her raven hair, and 
the soft silky strands were like a curtain to the lusting mouth pictured 
within their frame. He arched his back and forced her head down, and still 
more of his throbbing male organ was swallowed by her tender cheeks. Ann 
could feel the softness of the head touch back against her larynx, and 
further tendrils of sexual excitement spread through her quivering body. She 
strove to draw his very life essence along the tubular passage of his 
beautiful, monstrous cock. 

Suddenly Ann heard the cabin door-open, and she turned to see who it was. 
Ali and Michael returning from their swimming? Perhaps her husband and 
Harriet... and then her eyes flew open and from her position with her mouth 
completely engulfing Vic Garret's penis, she made out the squat form of the 
steward, Kurt, standing in the archway. My God! What's he doing here? was 
her first wild thought. And... her questions was soon answered. 

"I was wondering... if you were going to get here in time, Kurt," Garret 
panted from beneath her. "She's damned good... I was almost ready to cum!" 

"Ach! Sehr gut!" Kurt stepped closer to Ann, his lips wild with 
uncontrolled, animalistic lust, and his lips skinned back in a snarl of 
salacious delight. He undid the buttons of his white pants and let them drop 
around his feet, then kicked them off along with his shoes while he 
unbuttoned his shirt and removed his black tie. His cock was already bulging 
against his undershorts. 

Ann's mind was a confused jumble now, for it was almost as if he and Garret 
had planned this! Vic's words... and that wink in the hall... yes, yes, of 
course! It was inconceivable and unreal... but true! 

Then Kurt lowered his undershorts and he stood nude before the couple. His 
penis was thick and long with a large bulbous head, and was a pale ghostly 
color, as though his flesh were somehow encased in some pallorous sheath. 
Ripples of horror flashed through Ann's tormented mind, and she felt sick to 
her stomach. She suddenly found Garret's cock in her mouth repulsive and she 
wanted to spit it out, but she was unable to move, held firmly as she was by 
Garret's steel-hard hands. 

Oh God! she moaned inwardly, Oh God!... and then Kurt was on the bed behind 
her, and the hot expulsions of his fetid breath against her ivory buttocks 
made her flesh crawl with repulsion. Then his fingers were touching her; fat 
lily-white fingers that dipped into the moist crevice of her buttocks, 
spreading them wider, opening her tiny anal hole to his lusting and obscene 
view. She tried once again to twist away, but Garret flexed his hips and 
drove his penis deeper into her mouth and with his hands held her face in 
place. 

"Mein Gott! But what a beautiful little asshole!" Kurt exclaimed. 

"Shut up and put your cock in it, you Bavarian pervert," Garret cried out. 
"I can't wait for you to sightsee all day!" And then to Ann he said in a 
softer tone, "Easy, baby, it'll be all right." 

No! Oh God in heaven, I can't let him do it to me back there... and yet, 
what can I do? Nothing!... 

Nothing! She was trapped between the two rapacious men, and she knew that 
fight as she might, she would be forced to submit to their lusting whims. 
And when she felt the first probing touch of Kurt's smooth rubbery cock 
against her tiny sphincter ring, and then the movement as he lowered it 
slightly and allowed his penis to moisten itself in her vaginal juices 
below, she gagged with the nausea of fear and disgust. 

"Suck it, Ann," Garret moaned, beginning to pump his still-bloated cock in 
and out of her quivering mouth. "Suck me... you'll like Kurt's cock inside 
you once he gets started. 

Believe me! You'll like it once you get used to it." 

"Ja wohl!" Kurt growled. "It will feel good, miein Liebchen. You wait and 
see!" 

"Do it, Kurt! For Christ's sake do it and stop talking!" Garret commanded 
harshly. 

No, no, no! wailed Ann's tortured mind, but it was too late. With a brutal, 
sadistic shove of his loins, Kurt rammed forward, his cock soaring with 
savage and merciless force against her closed anus. It tore through the 
tender membranes like a berserk machine of vengeance and her rectum parted 
to his war-like attack. Her anal tunnel was suddenly filled with blinding, 
searing pain, and Ann cried out with excruciating agony around Garret's 
throbbing prick. 

"AAAaaaaahhhhhgggggrrrrrrr!" 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Ann was delirious from the double screwing of her mouth and rectum. She 
moaned around the giant phallus which was filling her mouth and tried to 
scream once more, but her face was too contorted to allow any noise to pass 
her widely stretched lips. The pressure of the steward's monstrous cock and 
his thick muscular thighs forced her rectum still wider, opening to Kurt the 
full warm depths of her tightly resisting anal channel. 

"Oh God! Stop! I can't take you there!" mewled Ann from around Garret's 
charging penis. "Stop!" Her cry was one of pain and humiliation at being 
defiled by this complete stranger, and he in turn laughed heartily and 
plunged his invading penis further into her entrails. 

"Come on, Ann," panted Garret from above her, "Relax. If you'll only relax, 
you'd find that you'd enjoy it!" 

Relax! How could anybody relax when their insides felt as if they were being 
torn apart. Ann cried out her anguish and tried to squeeze her tortured anus 
together with the force of her sphincter muscles. But it was of no use. Kurt 
gave a quick thrust of his ham-like thighs, and his lust-hardened penis 
surged onwards until his pubic hair was pressed flat against her buttocks. 
Then he slowly withdrew, and the pain of his movement again brought forth 
piteous groans from Ann, and then in again he went. He looked down in 
lustful delight as his turgid cock with its peeled back foreskin rammed 
through her tightly ovalled anus. 

"Aaaagg!" cried out Ann. "It hurts!" 

"Mein Gott! A virgin, yes?" Kurt grunted and then said, "ach, I got a 
virgin, ach!" 

He began to pump without mercy, crooning with unbridled delight as he ground 
every centimeter of his cock in and out and through her bowels, his pubic 
hair teasingly grazing her buttocks. 

Ann was mindless with the pain, and she clawed the bedsheets and moaned 
around the cock in her mouth to ease the raging fire of his invasion... and 
then the pain began to lessen slightly and a strange wetness could be felt 
between her legs. A masochistic ambivalence of agony and rapture began 
inside her loins, and her body started to undulate in tiny circles. Relax... 
and you'll enjoy it, Garret's command repeated in her broken mind, Relax... 

Ann suddenly recalled that Ali had said the exact same thing, and when she 
had allowed herself to accept and desire, she had enjoyed Ali's lesbian 
ministrations fantastically. Could this be the same? Could she be fighting 
when she should be asking for more? Was this just another example of her 
prudish shackles stopping her from being a true and honest and responsive 
woman? She didn't know... she knew nothing except the presence of these two 
rampaging penises... and the unalterable fact that Kurt was no longer 
hurting her. There seemed to be a tingling, weirdly pleasurable sensation in 
her groin, different from being fucked in her vagina, but definitely just as 
exciting and climax building. Oh, did she dare relax and enjoy this 
sodomistic perversion? Oh... oh... she could not HELP but relax and enjoy! 

Her fevered mind began to fill with the torrential explosion of the double 
drumming cocks. All else - self-guilt, hesitations, incriminating remorse - 
were pushed to the side as she centered on the growing lusts which were 
swamping her fiber and flesh. She found herself responding with automatic 
greed, and that her hand as if of a life by itself, was reaching underneath 
her body and up between her legs and stroking the soft dangling testicles of 
the steward. Then her hand found her cuntal opening which was dilated and 
wet, and her fingers began to rub hungrily the soft hair-lined lips of her 
vagina, teasing the throbbing clitoris in time to Kurt's pounding penis. Her 
complexion changed from the pallor of fear to the flush of sexual frenzy, 
and she bared her teeth around Garret's cock as further blasts of 
overwhelming perversion emanated from her widened rectum. 

"Yes... " she heard herself moan uncontrollably. "Yes, fuck my ass-hole, 
fuck it hard!" She heaved backwards, swallowing the last fraction of his 
driving cock into the warm rubbery depths of her tightly clasping rectum. 
"Fuck my AASSS!" Dear God! She was hopelessly impaled! Her brain was fired 
by her lewdness, and suddenly a new thought surged through her mind. 

What if Mark were to see her now? How low and depraved he would think his 
young bride to be... and how she would be guttered by his condemnation! She 
would hate to be discovered like this by her husband! Hate? No, be honest 
with yourself, Ann... you would love it! Yes! Yes! 

Sensuous thrills raced through her, and she resumed the twin task of sucking 
and fucking the mammoth axis which ran through her front and behind. Yes, 
what was missing was Mark, and it was too bad he wasn't there with her 
now... that would be the final culmination of her wildly desperate search 
for freedom! 

* * * 

Mark had never known or dreamed of anything like this in all his life. It 
was indescribably ecstasy, and his mind was overcome with enrapturement. As 
he stepped from the small bathroom where he had retired after fucking Ali to 
completion, he found a panorama of erotic debauchery spread before him like 
a scene from pagan Rome. On the bed lay Ali, face up, her beautiful buttocks 
grinding around in the air. On top of her, face down, was Harriet! They were 
kissing and fondling one another, their breasts mashed in an embraced union 
of lovemaking, their groins churning together wildly... and right behind 
them was Michael Holt! He squatted on his haunches, his hardened staff 
jutting from his thick pubic hair, and incredibly, he was fucking both women 
at the same time! First he entered his wife's cunt, would stroke and then 
withdraw, only to plunge into Ali's hungry pussy... and then return to 
Harriet and then back to Ali! It was fantastic! 

Even though he had ejaculated twice so far tonight, Mark felt his cock once 
more begin to throb like a furious stallion goaded into a frenzy. He stepped 
nearer the trio, and then Harriet broke her embrace and smiled back at him. 

"Ohhhh," she whimpered, "Stop it, Michael. I want Mark for awhile. I 
suddenly have the hots for Mark... " she wriggled free of Ali and Holt and 
tumbled to the floor. She started for Mark. "Fuck Vic's wife alone for 
awhile, dear," she called back over her shoulder. The lewd adulterous couple 
were writhing in their bed of bliss and barely acknowledged the fact she was 
gone. Mark grinned salaciously at Harriet, realizing that he was far from 
finished for the night, not with the perverted action of what he was 
witnessing making his penis grow like wildfire! He looked around the cabin, 
not wanting to make love on the hard floor, and then he thought of the Holt 
cabin. It had a nice bed... and then he remembered his wife. She was in 
there with Vic! 

Lucy... and that satyr named Vic Garret! 

Jesus Christ! They've been in there a long time. Maybe they're asleep, or 
perhaps they've even dressed and left to go get a drink... he had to look in 
there and see... he had to know what they were doing... 

Mark trembled as he and Harriet slowly opened the cabin door. Harriet was 
just as curious and just as excited at the prospect of viewing whatever was 
going on in there as he was - more so, if the truth be known, for she was 
far more conditioned to the perversions of the body than Mark. With his 
introductory newness and the fact that it was his bride in there, he was 
filled with a certain amount of trepidation as well as interest. 
Nevertheless, he could not have stayed away from that voyeuristic urge even 
if he had wanted to! 

Within, bathed in the cool moonlight from the open portholes, he saw the bed 
and his wife upon it. He looked closer at the two other writhing forms, and 
then his eyes widened in horror as he recognized the man who was 
systematically raping her anus! 

"Oh Jesus!" he blurted out, "it's Ann! She's being... " he choked on the 
words, "She's... " 

"Mama Mia!" whispered Harriet beside him. "It's Kurt! He's screwing her in 
the ass while Vic is shoving his cock in her mouth!" 

From the Garret bed came the startled cry, "Kurt?" Ali looked over at the 
door, and Holt stopped his wild drubbings. "Did you say Kurt is in there?" 
she asked again. 

"Yes!" Harriet rubbed against Mark. "Oohhhh, and is he giving it to Ann!" 

Holt swore under his breath. "That damned steward. He can't keep his cock to 
himself, can he? Every trip, he has to crash our little parties!" 

"Who cares, Mike? The more the merrier, I say! Let me up, I got to see him 
in action. He could always throw a mean fuck, that man!" 

A second later, Holt and Ali were crowding around the doorway, staring at 
the three on the bed. Ali groaned. "God, are they enjoying it!" she breathed 
huskily, "Look at them go!" 

"Christ yes," Holt gasped, "I've got the biggest hard-on you ever saw, just 
watching them!" 

Ann heard their conversation and hoarse, breathing and a wild sensation 
lanced through her body. She plunged her hand deeper into her cunt, touching 
the charging cock of Kurt through the thin membrane of flesh separating her 
anus and vagina as she did while her other hand firmly grasped Garret's 
prick while he orally fucked her ovalled mouth. She realized that Mark was 
among the spectators at the door, and she salaciously pressed herself 
against the two men who imprisoned her, jerking her buttocks and lips in an 
effort to set Mark's passions afire. 

For she felt free, completely, thoroughly free at last! The final fetter of 
decency drooped, and she dared to revel where before she would have stopped 
in abject terror. Her past frustrations, resentments and repressions burst 
from her heaving brain like a series of angry boils. 

Mark gaped at the erotic, narcissistic scene of his sweet bride being 
buffeted between the two men like a rag doll. His loins throbbed, and 
Harriet was tantalizingly fondling his rigid penis, biting his ear, 
endeavoring to work his hand in between her legs. But Mark was beside 
himself with shock, and he continued to stare open-mouthed at Ann as she 
performed the lewdest of acts before this depraved lusting audience... and 
there was nothing he could do about it! 

Oh God! Is this what I have caused? Mark's mind blasted with the revelation 
of what his bride was engaged in. She was being fucked in the ass! By the 
steward, Kurt! And while she was taking his cock, she was purring with 
increased bliss around the damnably prurient penis of Garret! And she's 
enjoying the whole salacious act! She let Ali suck her cunt... FIRST! She 
had told him that she would never let that happen, but she had... and then 
she sucked Holt's cock before she would go down on him... and now, now, she 
has the gall to let him see her being sodomized by some fat German waiter... 
by a foreign stranger... when she swore that the whole idea of sodomy was so 
repugnant to her that she would never allow it to happen ever! 

And yet he was struck by the self-accusation that it was his fault that she 
had become this perverted bitch... his fault entirely and not hers. He had 
started this loathsome circus when he allowed Ali to seduce him that first 
day... if he had stopped it then or even later... but no, his brains had all 
been in the end of his cock, and he had blindly gone on, dragging Ann 
resistingly behind him. And now she was a totally depraved woman, the evil 
consequence of his momentary weakness. Oh God... is it too late? Can I do 
nothing? I've made a terrible mistake! I thought that I... Oh God, please 
help me! Don't let this tear our new marriage apart! 

He barely was aware of Ali and Holt as they pushed past his frozen body. Ali 
was kneading her own breasts and rubbing her inflamed cunt lips, and Holt 
put his hand around his cock and stroked the tuberous growth in time to the 
humping three-some in front of them. 

"Ohhhh, I can't bear to just watch," moaned Holt. 

"C'mon, let's join them... " hissed Ali and still handling her genitalia in 
frantic abandon, she began to cross the cabin floor to the bed. Holt 
pursued, his breath short, gasping wheezes of lust. "Yes... yes... yes... " 
he repeated. 

Ann's eyes lowered at the sound of their licentious words. Yes... yes... 
come one, come all... and then cum together! Use me... use my body to your 
most crazed desires... I want everything and anything to happen... every 
opening, every hand filled with hard jerking cocks... 

Ann mewled her urgings as Garret's swollen, blood-pumped shaft continued to 
surge inside her mouth like some proud and mighty piston. She rubbed his 
penis with her one hand, trailing her fingers along his rubbery, wettened 
shaft as it slid in and out of her mouth, tickling the leathery sac and 
pressing slightly the two sperm-filled testicles within it, rolling them 
around and gaining a gasp of sheer ecstasy from Garret's straining mouth. 
Her hips moved backwards to meet the upthrust of Kurt's penis as he crammed 
it into her rectum and then forward again to swallow the whole of Vic 
Garret's plunging cock into her hot sucking mouth. Her complete body 
undulated like a ball between these two men, and her buttocks and head moved 
in tiny abandoned circles. 

"MMMMmmm... mmmmm... mmmmm," she chanted in muffled tones in tune to their 
crushing thrusts against ass-hole and mouth. Wilder and wilder they became, 
punishing her between them like a puppet, and all three of them groaned in 
an intermingling of mad sexual license. 

Ali was the first to reach the bed, and without hesitation, she crawled up 
and balanced herself over Ann, straddling her back the way one would ride a 
horse - only backwards. She moved closer to the now drooling Kurt Romer, 
feasting in the lustful gaze of his popping eyes. He took his hands off the 
ass-cheeks of Ann as they were no longer needed to hold the bride down and 
stationary, and began to caress and tease Ali's large excitement-hardened 
breasts. A low wail bubbled from Ali's passion-contorted face, and she 
jerked closer to Kurt and stood a little higher and offered her twitching 
cunt to his questing nostrils. 

He breathed deeply of the fragrant pussy, and then grabbed Ali by the waist 
and pulled her crotch closer, closer until his whole fatty face was buried 
in her soft pubic growth. 

"Suck me, Kurt," Ali moaned in a tremulous voice, "put that big German 
tongue of yours deep into my cunt... ooohhh," and as Kurt's head whipped 
from side to side, she trembled and quaked with ever-increasing fervor. 
"Oooohhh, yes... yes!" 

"Mein Gott! Mein Gott," came the almost inaudible babblings of Kurt as he 
endeavored to suck and lick and kiss the splayed cunt before him in the same 
tempo as his ramming cock. "It is the finest of perfume! Mein Gott. the 
finest!" 

The convulsive explosions inside her vaginal slit made Ali almost weep with 
joy. She leaned back so as to offer still more of her pink slippery pussy to 
the steward and clasped her handsome husband around the shoulders for 
support. She turned her upper body a bit so that they could kiss, and as his 
hands closed around her breasts and manipulated the beauteous gland to rock 
firmness, she murmured, "I love you, Vic! Ohhhhh... I love you so much!" 

Then Holt was on the bed, but he was frantically looking for some way of 
getting to Ali, pulling on his penis in ever-increasing fury until Mark 
thought he was going to pull it right off. Holt said nothing, but there was 
the wild-eyed gleam in his eyes as he savored over the quartet of 
perversion, and first he would hop beside one and then over to another and 
then around to a third in his attempt to assuage the growing agony in his 
semen-drenched penis. 

Harriet had taken Mark's fingers now, and in spite of his near-comatose 
stance, had managed to insinuate two of them between the moist lips of her 
own pulsating vagina, but she was unable to get Mark interested in her. He 
continued to stare at his bride in unbelievable horror as she ( twisted her 
buttocks and gave full access to the tiny coral-hued anus. He watched 
mesmerically as she sucked at Garret's penis as a calf might suck his 
cow-mother's teat, and the cunnilingus being performed on Ali above by the 
steward. 

"Please... Mark... let's go in there and join them," Harriet begged. She 
began to grind her own overheated cunt gapingly against his hand and 
simultaneously stroke his aching cock more vigorously. But Mark was still 
too engrossed to know what she was doing, saying or wanted. 

"C'mon," Harriet moaned softly. "C'mon and let's fuck and watch them... " 
Mark only stared straight ahead of him in unblinking fascination. In the 
back of his erotically fogged brain came a jumble of words and questions... 
"Oh, Dear Christ, could this be my young innocent bride? Is it possible? And 
even as he thought of these things, and Harriet engulfed his testicles in 
her soft, delicate, warm palm, he knew that the answer was~ yes, 
unbelievingly yes... 

And she's loving every minute of this obscene performance! 

He groaned from self abomination. He could see Kurt's huge thick rod 
disappearing and reappearing between her sucking, fish-like anal lips, her 
long disheveled hair flowing down over Garret's cock, her firm round tits 
dancing beneath her heaving chest as though they had puppet strings attached 
to their nipples. 

He wanted to cry, to scream and pull his bride's suddenly insatiable body 
from between the three naked bodies, but he could not. His prick ached and 
throbbed, and he was only able to stand transfixed, hypnotized by his young 
wife's mercilessly buffeted form. Unconsciously he began to follow the 
rhythm Kurt was setting with his cruel sawing in and out of her asshole. 
Wilder went the beat, punishing Ann more and more, and she moaned in muted 
voice from around Garret's fleshy rod as it fucked into the receptive cavern 
of her mouth. 

Harriet had left him now, her own needs amplified beyond her ability to 
control them. She took her husband from the bed and then she sunk to her 
knees, and he mounted her dog-fashion on the floor, and their grunts and 
moans of sexual depravity added to the already-filled air of the cabin as 
they watched the four on the bed... 

And that left only Mark out. The sight of the rampant abuses of his bride's 
helpless body filled his brain, making him reel with insane throbbings. He 
could hardly breathe. He had never in his most wild fantasies ever dreamed 
of such debauchery... never hoped he could be part of one... never 
considered his wife as being involved... and yet, there she was, the 
ringleader of depravity! It was more than he could take! 

He staggered forward, his hardened cock pointing the way like a divining 
rod. He was an uncontrollable animal, angered at his puritanical bride's 
acceptance of such immorality, furious at being the core of her change and 
frustrated to the point of torture at not having a sexual outlet from his 
horrendously exciting tableau. He was a melting pot of agonies with the fire 
raging in his furnace of lust and his cock like an ingot of steel made from 
such forgings. He banged his shins on the bureau and thrust his hands out 
for guidance, his one roaring thought to somehow, in some way, punish 
himself and her as she was punishing them by her obscene surrender to the 
men on the bed. 

"I'm... going to fuck you... " he growled as he stood by the bed, "Ann... 
"I'm going to fuck the shit out of you!" 

"Uuuuuummm!" moaned Ann through her contorted lips. Her husband's words 
penetrated her insatiable brain, adding unquenchable passion to her soul. 
Mark, entranced by the most loathsome and carnal acts of sex possible... and 
he wanted her! She suddenly shivered with love for her man, a love deep and 
abiding, and she was exhilarated by the freedom she was now given. She 
wanted Mark very badly... but she wanted these other men, too. Yes, and even 
wanted Ali on top of her... she wanted her love and sex both... and she was 
going to have it! Oh God above! She was the luckiest of the lucky! 

Mark climbed upon the bed and viewed once more the scandalous scene before 
him. He licked his dry lips and glanced down at his fully erect penis and 
then back at the four acrobats of lewdness. Ah, it was almost too good to 
believe! Yes, yes, he had made the right decision! He wanted to join in... 
He had to! He had to pillage and rape his young bride's body along with the 
others - and it was a rape, even if she was accepting it. His lust bloated 
his cock to bursting as he anticipated adding his own corrupting actions. 

"Hurry!" cried Harriet as she wormed back her tight little vagina on her 
husband's brutal penis. "I want to see you in Ann! Hurry, before I cum!" 
Then Holt thrust his penis deeper inside Harriet and she howled from the 
force, her buttocks split apart, and her soft wet fleece of pubic hair 
quivering from his blows. "Hurry, Mark... Huurryy!" 

Ali glanced from her position above Ann, and with a crazy shake of her 
sex-crazed head, she wailed, "Yes, Mark... join us... join us now! I can 
feel my cum and my husband is almost... almost there tooo!" 

"My balls are about to explode!" shouted the jerking Garret, and he strove 
to pump harder still into Ann's still hungrily sucking mouth. 

Mark needed no further urging. He lay down on his back, and with his hands 
he spread Kurt's thick legs wider, and then he worked his way between them 
then between his bride's thighs until his face was level with her searing 
cunt. He removed her still masturbating fingers, and in their place he 
kissed her pussy savagely and wormed his tongue deep inside her, and he 
could feel Kurt's surging cock through the vaginal membranes as the steward 
anally fucked Ann. The tremors and Ann's mewlings of sensuality caused him 
to spur onward. 

Ann found tears rolling from her eyes and slipping between her lips as the 
delirium of the three men caused her to literally cry from the ecstasy. She 
shoved her cunt lower upon her husband's face while he massaged her pink 
salubrious slit and vibrating clitoris, and then he began to slide further 
up her body, and the sudden rush of air as he left her wet vagina made her 
tingle and shiver. 

Then she felt his stiff, upraised cock brush where his lips had been, and 
she ground lower, forcing Kurt to bend a bit... but the heavy-set steward 
only grinned from the salacious knowledge of what Mark was attempting, and 
then he was groveling in Ali's cunt again, lost in the reverie of her sweet 
secretions. Ach, it was wonderful! he thought wildly. It is always like this 
every time these crazy Americans named Garret take this boat! If only all 
his voyages were this good! 

Mark surged upwards as though he had the devil's trident between his legs 
instead of his penis. And in response, Ann's tender cunt seemed to suck his 
cock inside it, opening and then closing around his shaft with all the 
precision and strength of a belly-dancer's muscle control. There was only 
the thin membrane of her vaginal wall separating the two men's cocks, and 
after a moment they got into cadence, sliding along their respective tunnels 
like pistons in an engine. First one and then the other rammed to its hilt, 
consecutive rods of tidal-wave force, pumping and pulsating against her twin 
channels of writhing lust. 

"Ooohhh!" Ann screamed around Garret's still fucking cock. Although her lips 
were stretched and sensation filled, she was able to add, "More! More! Don't 
ever stop!" 

They gave her more, Mark and Kurt, their heavy balls slapping skin and flesh 
as they thoroughly bored Ann's vaginal and anal passages, and their 
lubrications all seemed to pool in the pink inch of flesh between the 
dual-driven openings. 

Mark looked upwards, and as he was even with his bride's lovely face, he was 
able to take in all the masterful sight of his wife sucking Garret's cock. 
The details were sharp. Her teeth clung to Garret's rod on the outswing, 
only to have her lips close back over the shaft again as it thrust back in. 
She fondled the tender sac of balls which bobbed beneath the man's swollen 
member, and she managed to use her forefinger and thumb to beat a little of 
the skin at the base. Her hair flayed on both sides: a curtain of fine silk 
to the picture of perversion, and Mark was spurred onward in increased tempo 
at the lovely view. 

And then Garret jerked spasmodically, groaning with increased loudness, and 
he moved all the way back so that his cock-head was removed from Ann's 
nibbling lips. "I'm... I'm ccuummiinngg!" He screamed deliriously, and as 
she held her mouth open, his jerking cock spurted its fiery semen in a hard, 
jet-like stream. Ann's mouth caught the surging sperm, her gullet working at 
a tremendous rate to keep up with the never-ending pumpings. Yet not once 
did she close her mouth or take a breath as Garret shot his load of steaming 
cum across the narrow channel between cock and mouth. Then Kurt, yelling in 
German, humped demon-like, his hips but a blur as he experienced his orgasm. 
Thick fluid burst from the end of his penis to flood her warm clamping anal 
channel and make her belly quiver from the force of his climax, and his 
balls spasmed as they released the full force of his enema-like ejaculation 
inside her widely stretched rectum. 

Then from above, the distinctive wail of the blonde woman cut the air, and 
her legs gripped Ann's sides like a nutcracker. "Ooooogghh Kurt! Your mouth 
is the best! Ooohh! I've cum! I've cum! OOOhhhh!" 

Ann thrust her buttocks back on the monstrously expanded columns of her 
lovers, her every muscle in an catatonic contraction. Her anal sphincter 
closed around Kurt's ejaculating penis, and her cunt muscles rippled along 
Mark's cock, and she let the rain of Anderson's seed fill her mouth to 
overflowing. Her orgasm hit like a bowling ball hits tenpins, sending 
pinwheels of kaleidoscoping colors flashing through her mind, a blinding 
spectrum of intense completion. Her very soul was tossed helplessly about by 
the immense power of her primordial release. 

And Mark - churned to a frothing animal of sensuality, burning with the 
fever of sex as he screwed his bride and watched Garret drain the milk of 
his balls above him, began to jump and twitch, and then he lifted his ass 
and blasted his hot searing cream deep, deep into Ann's waiting womb. He 
writhed furiously and continued to shoot into the vagina of his bride an 
unending charge of heated sperm, a madly gyrating container of semen which 
filled her cunt and flowed from her vulva lips and ran down between his legs 
to pool in the bedsheets below. 

Ann, as the last little drop came from Garret's already deflating penis, 
swallowed and licked her lips and then lowered her face and kissed her 
husband passionately on the lips. 

"I love you," she murmured affectionately. "Oh, my darling... " whispered 
Mark, "you are the finest wife a man could be blessed with." 

Mark's and Kurt's cocks slowly went limp and Kurt sat back on his haunches, 
breathing heavily as though he had been running all day. Ann squirmed down 
upon her husband, not wishing for him to withdraw as Kurt had, and she 
nuzzled his ear and neck. Ali was leaning against the wall, a glazed look in 
her eyes, and Garret had a satisfied smug grin across his features. "That 
was great," Garret said. "Wunderbar!" extolled Kurt, "absolutely wonderful!" 

They were quiet for a moment, and then Ali said, "Hey! The Holts! They 
haven't cum yet! Look at them, will you?" 

And sure enough, on the floor were the still fucking duo, but it was evident 
that Harriet and Michael were soon to realize their climaxes, for they 
strained and heaved wildly against one another, their flesh and sinew 
surging together in a melody of sexual harmonies. Ann rolled over and placed 
her head on Mark's heaving chest, and the five on the bed watched the lewd 
show near them, occasionally shouting encouragements or jokes. Ann looked 
down at her husband and saw that the Holt's activities was giving him a 
newfound erection, and she reached a hand down and began to rub his again 
rising penis with her palm. His hips began to resound with urgency. 

The fucking on the floor began to arouse all of them again in empathic 
stimulation. Kurt stroked his cock and Ali, repaying his kindness of 
previous moments, moved and placed her lips over his head, not moving her 
mouth but merely breathing feverishly on his cock as he masturbated, and she 
looked forward to his cumming which would shower her mouth with semen. Vic 
boldly replaced Ann's hand on Mark's turgid expanse and sucked on Ann's cunt 
while he played with her husband, and by a quick swinging of his hips, he 
was able to push his huge weapon into Ali's cunt. 

The Holts came with squeals and yells, but the evening did not end at that 
point. It went on for hours with a thousand different variations of 
perversions. One, two, three - all seven grouped in entanglements of sexual 
lustings, fucking and sucking and fondling and cumming over and over. At 
last, as the new hours of the morning broke through the windows, Kurt had to 
dress and leave for breakfast duty. The remaining partners, cuddled together 
in somnambulistic reverie and smiled at him happily as he stood by the cabin 
doorway, adjusting his black tie. 

"Good morning Kurt," Ali said dreamily. "You needn't bother calling me for 
breakfast." 

"You mean 'good night," Holt said with a sigh. 

Ann wrapped herself tighter in her new husband's arms. "Yes, good night 
Kurt. I'm going to sleep for a week." 

"Ach! You can not! We reach St. Thomas in another four hours." He chuckled. 
"But gute Nacht, Ann, you little Liebchen. You are the greatest." And as he 
started closing the door, he added, "and you too, Mark." 

The young newlyweds fell into blissful sleep immediately, contented, 
complete and spiritually unified. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

The hot tropical sun streaming in through the opened windows in their cabin 
woke Ann from a deep dreamless sleep. She moaned with contentment, rolling 
over, her hand searching for the warm nakedness of the man she loved. Mark 
was not there, and her eyes snapped open instantly with concern; she sat up 
in the hide-a-bed, looking sleepily around, and the thin sheet fell from her 
firm high breasts. He had brought her back to the cabin in his gentle arms 
after Kurt had left and gone to bed with her then. Where... ? 

Ann relaxed as she saw the nude form of her husband standing at the windows 
and looking out. Her eyes lowered to his loins in profile, and she gazed 
fondly and lovingly at his limp penis lying nestled in the hammocks of his 
soft deflated testicles. I love you, Mark, she thought drowsily. And I love 
your penis, your beautiful love-giving, life-giving penis. 

He seemed to sense her eyes on him, and he turned to smile warmly and 
tenderly at his bride of less than two weeks. "Hi, sweetheart," he said. 
"How's the world's most beautiful woman and the universe's finest and 
bestest piece of ass?" 

She giggled, dimpling at the compliment. "Fine," she answered. "Wonderful, 
in fact. What time is it?" 

"Almost noon," Mark told her. "We're steaming into St. Thomas right now. 
Should be docking in less than an hour, I'd guess. Come on over to the 
window; it's quite a sight." 

Ann smiled teasingly, "I've got a better idea, honey," she said. She moved 
the sheet away from her legs and spread her alabaster thighs wide apart, 
revealing to his eyes the softly hair-fringed beauty of her cuntal furrow. 
She watched his cock, saw with some pride that it gave a convulsive little 
shudder and began to come erect at the sight of her womanhood so 
provocatively displayed. "You come on over here, and I'll show you something 
better than any harbor and any St. Thomas." 

"I thought you'd always dreamed of seeing the Virgin Islands," chided Mark. 
"You should be excited right now." 

"I am sweetheart. Oh yes, I'm excited, all right." 

Mark laughed. "I'd have thought you would be worn out sexually after last 
night." 

"I'm not, though. Not for you." 

"We don't have time to do anything, honey. We have to pack." 

"We have time." 

"Well... " 

"I want to suck you, my darling," Ann murmured huskily, seductively. "I want 
to suck my darling husband's cock in the harbor of St. Thomas. Suck it until 
he cums. Wouldn't you like that, sweetheart? Wouldn't you?" 

"Christ!" Mark said. His cock was standing rigid now, the head swollen with 
blood and his balls tingling. "You've become insatiable, you know that?" 

"Would you rather I had stayed the way I was before?" Ann asked demurely. 

"Not on your life!" 

"Then come over here and let me suck your lovely prick, darling. We can 
worry about packing and those other unimportant things when I've milked your 
cock of every last beautiful drop of cum." 

Mark fairly jumped to the bed. He sat beside his lovely emancipated young 
wife, bent to kiss each of her small, perfect tits and then dipped down to 
give her cunt a quick kiss and lick with his tongue. Then he stretched full 
out, and Ann reached down and took his turgid cock between the palms of her 
hands. She kissed his throat, his chest and nipples, his belly, lowering her 
head to take his prick into her mouth and love him like a wife should always 
love her husband - with full and complete abandonment and adoration. Christ, 
but he was a lucky man... the luckiest goddamned man in the whole world to 
have such a beautiful, loving, passionate young bride. 

And as Ann took her husband's swollen prick between her lips, began to run 
her tongue round and round the coronal ridge, splitting the glans eye with 
the tip of her tongue and lapping up the first droplets of his semen, she 
was thinking about St. Thomas - and all the promised nights with the Garrets 
and the Holts in the luxury hotel where Vic had insisted they stay. Yes, and 
she was thinking about returning to the States, too, when hers and Mark's 
honeymoon was over, for Vic Garret had said that there were dozens of 
couples he knew who were definitely swingers, and he had promised to 
introduce Ann and Mark to all of them... 

Then Ann Lawson, free and emancipated, a true woman of the flesh now, began 
to suck her husband's cock with ecstatic intensity; she forgot about all 
else except the wonderful hardened rod of golden male flesh which was 
filling her warm wet mouth and which would soon fill her throat with the 
seed of a true and everlasting love... 


THE END
