Chapter 11
Gwen sat on a high-backed velvet chair. On her left sat Val, and directly in front of them, reclining in a leather chair, lazed Angelo Castello. An array of bottles were lined within an arm's reach on a cherry wood table with delicate inlaid carvings. There was a pine box full of fat, phallic-shaped cigars, and a small guillotine which Angelo used to snip the ends of the stogies before lighting them.
The trio were talking in Angelo's lush Beverly Hills home with its neo-Roman ambience penetrating everything in sight. Most of the rooms were done in marble, with tall granite columns reaching up like arms to hold the world in place. They were now in Angelo's master bedroom, which looked more like a movie set with all the brocades and rich silks draped about the cavernous room. The floor was a gleaming terrazzo with plush Persian carpets two inches thick scattered about. They were in complementary pastels which softened the otherwise gleaming sterility. In the center of the room, directly behind Angelo, rested one of the largest beds Gwen had ever seen. It was shaped like a boot, at least fifteen feet long and eight feet across.
The sheets, she saw, were eggshell-colored and made of some expensive silk. The bed was turned down.
"You don't know how happy I am that you came, Mrs. Stillman! You must be very good friends with Val."
Gwen smiled. She was nervous, but trying her best to keep her bearings. "Yes, we haven't known one another very long, but we enjoy mutual respect."
Angelo raised the cigar to his lips and puffed thoughtfully. "Yes, friendship and respect are two redeeming qualities that might save mankind. The minute you lose those two qualities, there is nothing left but deceit and deception."
Val smiled when she saw Angelo flick his eyes at her. "Well, I have some shopping to do. I'll be back around five. Angelo," she said, offering him her hand. He kissed the back lightly. "Take good care of her."
Angelo's face crinkled into a smile. "Of course. I always take care of friends. And be careful on the streets, Val. Lots of pickpockets out there."
He chuckled as Val clicked out of the room.
"Well, Gwen-you don't mind me calling you that-" he didn't wait for a reply. "Now that we're alone, why don't you have a drink? Some anisette. The best in the country. Homemade. Superb."
He chose a special bottle and poured her an ounce. "Sip it slowly and savor it. It's delicious and relaxing." He held the glass up and she moved from her chair to accept it. Sitting down again, she drank slowly, tasting the syrupy sweetness as it rolled warmly down her throat to her stomach.
The man across from her was certainly not handsome. He was grossly obese, and had small squinty eyes which sometimes made her uneasy when they held her in their beam. His fingers were as thick as the cigars he smoked, and his stomach was as round as a beer keg. Yet, even with the heavy, sagging jowels and the miniscule eyes, there was something strangely exciting about him. He was an enigma, radiating danger and sympathy in the same wheezing breath.
"How do you like it?" he asked, pointing to the anisette.
"Very good."
She took another drink. Something warm swept over her. She felt it rising from her stomach to her brain, then dropping to her loins. Her clothes felt uncomfortable. Her heart beat rapidly. Her fingers and toes tingled.
"I understand you are unordained."
"Pardon me?"
Angelo laughed. "You have never had anal love."
Gwen felt the redness touching her cheeks. "No, I haven't."
"You're a little afraid, aren't you."
"Yes."
Angelo lit a fresh cigar. He licked the sides carefully to glue the tobacco leaves together. "Val told me about your fear. I promise to be cautious."
"I appreciate that," Gwen said, draining the small glass and setting it on the matching cherrywood end table next to her chair. She felt more and more uncomfortable. Her clothes seemed to be sticking to her. Sweat leaked in large drops from her armpits and ran with tickling obscurity down her ribs.
"Would you like to undress?" Angelo asked, a smile on his face.
"Yes."
"Please, do it in front of me. I enjoy the peeling of fresh fruit. As a boy, I once picked fruit for a living."
But Gwen didn't hear what he said. She was busy with her clothes, pulling them off with a frantic desire for nakedness. She was confused. Her body seemed to be on fire. Her skin was singing from the inside out.
Angelo watched with detached amusement as the woman bared her body. He sighed as her youthful, slender flesh came into view. She had chosen an excellent lacy bra that lifted her mounds up and gave them a stifling appearance of dominance over her otherwise perfectly sculptured body. Her legs were very smooth and defined, melting down from flared hips and rounded, cheeky buttocks to slim calves and small, petite feet.
There was no embarrassment, no hesitation as she hooked her thumbs into the elastic panty-band and pulled down. Her oiled, powdered, perfumed flesh splashed against his eyes like cool, fresh water. She reached behind her to unsnap the bra. As she did, her breast jutted upward, straining toward the ceiling. With a practiced flick, the bra was dangling in her fingertips and her medium-sized but poignantly shaped tits came into full view. She bent to pick up her clothes.
"Leave them," Angelo said, his breath slightly uneven. "Leave them and come here. Sit on my lap."
Gwen took the pins from her hair and shook the strands free. They washed around her shoulders and neck, giving her a full and complete sense of freedom. She undulated toward the heavy man sitting in only a smoking jacket. She could see his small, hairless white legs sticking out from under the black band of silk bordering the dark blue robe. He reached for her, and she felt like a toy in his hands as he pulled her down onto his lap. The silk robe was cool against her burning buttocks and vagina. She laced her arm around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.
Something was burning inside her. She didn't understand herself. She was in heat. Her vagina was leaking already. She tried closing her thighs to keep the fluids from soaking into the man's jacket.
"You're very excited, aren't you, Gwen?"
She found it difficult to talk. "Yes. I feel so strange. My body is on fire. I ... I want to make love."
"You want to fuck," he corrected.
"Yes," she said, her hand rubbing down over his fleshy stomach, slipping inside the jacket, fingers inching through the pubic hair for his cock. She found it. Her face went slack as her fingers explored the length and width of the organ.
"Yes," Angelo said. "It's very large. But it's very gentle."
Angelo pushed a button on the side of the chair. A motor whirred and brought the back to a vertical position. He pushed up, holding Gwen with one arm, and carried her to the bed.
There, he stripped off his jacket and spread Gwen's body out as though it were a blanket he intended to cover his body with.
Gwen was glassy-eyed. She saw everything and felt everything in a dazed slow-motion world. She saw the fat man's mouth coming down and capturing her stiff, rock-like nipples. She felt his chunky fingers fluttering like wings of a butterfly against the folds of her twat.
Her heart beat wildly as she held his hard cock, fingers squeezing and massaging with disbelief. The poker stood a good foot-but it looked like a yard to her-from his paunch. Every muscle in his cock was straining. She could feel his heartbeat pounding as her fingers closed tightly around the foot-long shank of Grade A meat.
Angelo kissed her navel. His kissed her thighs and the soles of her feet. He sucked on each toe and licked at her dripping pussy. Then, deftly, with great care and consideration, he rolled her gently onto her stomach. The move was done with such expertise that for a few moments Gwen didn't realize the position she was in.
Only when Angelo took her legs and tucked them up under her belly so that she was in a dog-fuck position, did she realize what was going to happen.
Her fear wasn't completely eased by the strange, tingling passion that overcame her after Val left. But it was substantially reduced. Her body ached for more than just lip and tongue contact. She wanted to feel the man's cock in her. Especially in her pussy. But her ass was burning now. He was stroking it, running something cool up the crack that set her anus on fire, then turned to a chilly coolness.
Her muscles began to relax. She felt herself spreading her ass-cheeks. He was kissing the globes, running his tongue down the crack, letting it shove gently against the opening.
Gwen gasped. She reached between her legs, took his cock, and rubbed it over the hot, sweating, puffed lips of her cunt. He continued to kiss her anus. She could feel his tongue prying through the tight hole. Again, her buttocks burned. Still, she massaged the great head of his cock against her cunt, sometimes trying to stuff it into the waiting lips but being rebuffed by Angelo's commanding: "NO!"
She watched between her legs, staring past her dangling breasts, as Angelo took some gel and swabbed it onto his cock. Then she felt the same unctuous jelly being rubbed around her anus. She felt a finger slide into her ass. It was greased, and passed through the membrane without pain. Still, she wanted his cock in her cunt. Nowhere else.
"Fuck me," she moaned. "I need the big cock. Please, fuck me."
"I will," Castello replied, climbing up behind her. "I will. And it will be better than any fuck you've ever had."
Gwen pressed her hot cheek against the satin sheet. She felt Angelo's arms wrap around her waist and catch her tits. Her breasts were completely engulfed by his huge paws, and she could feel her nipples jabbing like hard rocks into his palms.
Then she felt it-the slick pressure of his cock pressing against her ass-hole. She bit her lip as he pushed harder and harder. She could feel her tissues splitting and expanding. She would try not to scream. Try and take it as long as she could, then she would beg him to stop. He would. He promised.
Angelo was panting like a bear. She could hear him over her own grunts. He was sucking on the back of her neck as he shoved and twisted his hips, wedging his dick deeper and deeper.
The pain was sharp. She felt it and the erotic fluids dancing in her blood. They were battling one another. She wanted to cry out for him to stop, but she couldn't. Something kept her from screaming. Instead, she found herself pushing back against him, driving the dork farther into her aching anus.
"Oh, God! Oh, Jesus! Oh, Christ! Oh, shit!" She panted out the cries as Angelo rotated his hips in a wide circle, making his prick press against her vital organs. Then he slipped his hand from one of her breasts and hooked his finger into her cunt. She felt the wild sensation of the cock-sized finger shoving up into her well. She could feel it touching the head of his prick that was sliding into her ass, and her brain seemed to explode.
"FUCK ME!" she cried, knowing the excruciating pain searing from her ass, but unable to refuse it. "FUCK ME IN THE ASS!"
Her second scream triggered it. Angelo began to pump now with full force. Each new lunge sank the cock farther into Gwen's bowels. But with each new dimension, the burning, blinding pain seemed to change into a scalding passion.
Gwen rocked back against the thrusts. She gritted her teeth, but not all from agony. She felt the same enjoyment she had known when a tooth ached and she bit down to test how much she could stand.
"Go!" she grunted. "FUCK ME! REAM ME! BUTT-FUCKER!"
Angelo was grunting. His bull-like rasps sent her even farther into the erotic world clouding her mind. She thought the cock would come burrowing up through her even farther into the erotic world clouding her mind. She thought the cock would come burrowing up through her stomach and throat, ending up sticking from her mouth like a tongue.
Gwen could smell her own bile. It filled the room with an acrid odor. She shook her head. Angelo had his teeth planted on her neck, holding the skin in place like a tomcat during mating season. She felt the paralyzing effect and grunted animalistically.
His finger was slipping in and out like a jackhammer. His cock was no longer painful. It was warm and hot, each new stroke adding another spark to the raging fire of passion stored in her bowels.
"I'M COMING!" he screamed, his ass jerking spasmodically. "I'M CUMMMMMING!"
He made a final lunge. She felt all thirteen inches ram into her. His finger stabbed up into her womb. Then a hot geyser washed through her bowels. She shoved back, whimpering like a bitch in heat as her own orgasm took her by the throat and shook the juices from her.
Angelo squeezed out the last of him own come, and then rolled onto his side. He could feel the strain on his heart. He knew he wouldn't be able to enjoy the ancient Greek way too much longer.
"I owe you a favor," Angelo said. "Don't forget to collect it any time."
But Gwen wasn't hearing. She was still feeling the cock in her. It was shrinking, inch by inch, inside her colon. She was savoring every last moment of its presence.
That same evening Doug gave Gwen a small glass of the anisette that Val had given to him. In bed, Gwen had taken him fully into her ass, and enjoyed every moment. Then she had taken him with her tongue, licking his ass clean. Finally, they made love as they always did, only this time with such fervor that they both overslept the next morning.
Doug never questioned what was in the anisette bottle. Val told him that when it was gone, so would be Gwen's fears. Now, he wasn't sure how much time they would spend with Val and Harry Benton. If his home sex life kept up at the same pace, he wouldn't have time to be playing musical beds.
"Do you love me?" Gwen said on awakening one morning from a wild night of passion.
Doug slapped her firm ass. "You bet that little fucking ass I do."