Chapter 6
Connie heard the key in the lock, and lurched up off her bed and slipped her robe on. She gathered up her laundry, grabbed the soap flakes, and exited as Carl came in. Shaking and hot, she walked straight down the hall as if she were a drunk trying to pass a sobriety test. She was quivering because she had been masturbating. Carl had interrupted her just a moment before she would have cum.
She tiptoed past Jerry's door. She was avoiding him, too, which wasn't particularly hard. Avoiding Carl, though, was next to impossible. She had succeeded for the past week, but it hadn't been easy. She was still mortified by her performance on Sunday. It made facing either Carl or Jerry pure agony.
She had spent hours in the library, and left only when they threw her out. Monday she had hidden and spent the night in the stacks. The aches and pains that resulted had decided her against that solution. So, each night, she undressed quickly. Twice she had waited until Carl turned out his light. In the morning, she dressed just as hastily, feeling his eyes on her even when he wasn't looking. She didn't want to give him any reason at all to do what he had done before. She didn't want to give him a reason to make a pass at her. She was clinging desperately to her promise of fidelity.
It wasn't easy. The atmosphere of the dorm was blatantly erotic. The coed bathrooms meant constant exposure to naked bodies, male and female. Couples used the showers for both foreplay and fucking. It was perpetual stimulation, which made Connie perpetually horny. Which was why she had been masturbating when Carl had come in unexpectedly. Her legs shook as she made her way to the basement where the washing machines were located. She slumped wearily against one machine for a minute, trying to regain her composure. She was relieved that the laundry room was empty. She was alone. The searing itch in her cunt was growing worse. She loaded a machine, added soap, and turned it on. Then she noticed her robe smelled, and wrinkled her nose in disgust. She chewed on her lower lip, debating. She was all alone. Upperclassmen were almost all at classes this time of day. It seemed unlikely anyone would come into the laundry room while she was there. The robe desperately needed washing. Besides, there was a shower next door, and she could shower while her clothes were getting clean. It seemed too good a chance to miss.
She stripped, lifted the lid on the washing machine and dropped her robe into the swirling, soapy water. The agitator sucked it under as she lowered the lid. She peered out into the echoing basement corridor, and then slipped quickly into the shower room. There were no stalls, just a row of nozzles along the wall.
After adjusting the water, she stepped under the steaming spray. As the hot jets stung her skin, she felt the tension in her shoulders melt away. With a purr of pleasure, she stretched under the soothing blast. She turned and let the stinging jets blister her tits. Her nipples jerked alive. She backed up a little so one stream drilled into her cunt, right on the crevice. It titillated her clitoris delicately and sent her lust soaring.
Reaching down, she spread her cunt lips, letting the stream of water batter her erect clit into a searing point of ecstasy. Her lust burst through her slender form, more forcefully than usual because she had kept it brutally pent up. She arched, thrust her pussy forward, offered her cunt to the pounding spray of water. Her pussy was flooding with juices. They mingled with the hot water and poured down over her sleek, smooth thighs. She groped blindly for the soap dish, and found someone had left a bar of soap behind. Sucking her fingers, she turned so her back was to the shower nozzle, and proceeded to masturbate. Her soapy fingers rolled the nubbin of her clit around and around and around.
She swayed, delirious with lust. She staggered and slammed back against the wall painfully. Propping herself against the cold tiles, she diddled her clitoris with the fingers of one hand, and probed the hot, slithery opening of her cunt with the other. She was oblivious of everything but the pleasure she was giving herself. The only things in her universe were her hands, her clitoris, and the incredible pleasure inside her pussy. Then there was a sound!
"Nooo," she moaned while increasing her efforts on her body and listening in spite of herself.
Footsteps were coming down the stairs to the basement. Every step pushed her farther and farther from her goal, increased her frustration and hunger. A final, desperate attempt to trigger her orgasm failed, and she slumped down, defeated. Then, hearing the footsteps enter the laundry room, she moved back under the shower and turned and twisted to let the water sluice away the soap and her aggravation with whoever it was who had spoiled her fun. She was about to shut off the water when she remembered she had no towel or bathrobe. She was just going to have to wait it out until whoever it was left. Maybe they'd go back upstairs after they got their laundry started.
Suddenly Jerry Peterson appeared in the doorway of the shower room. "Well, hello, there!" His eyes flickered over her sleek, wet body. Connie tried to cover herself with her hands, and then realized that was dumb. Not only had he seen her naked before, he had fucked her and been sucked by her. Trying to hide would just excite him more. "What are you doing here?" she asked sharply.
"Washing my clothes. What are you doing here?" "Washing my clothes," she replied. "I decided to take a shower while I waited."
"Not a bad idea," Jerry agreed. "I think I'll do the same." To her dismay, he proceeded to strip right then and there. He disappeared and returned in a few seconds without his clothes. His cock was half-erect, and lolled heavily against one thigh as he walked over to the neighboring set of faucet handles.
"Take mine; I'm done," Connie said abruptly, stepping out from under the hot spray. "See you later."
"Thanks."
She headed for the laundry room.
She leaned weakly against the vibrating machine as it spun the water out of her clothes. She didn't see how she could possibly go on like this, dodging these horny guys while getting more horny herself. The summer stretched ahead of her like a nightmare. Continuous carnal hunger was staring her in the face. The endless temptations were making her life unbearable.
Warm, strong hands slid around her and closed on her tits. All her bottled-up lust blazed forth suddenly. As fingers pressed and massaged her boobs, pinching and teasing her erect, eager nipples, she felt the washing machine's vibrations drumming through her naked body. She wanted to tear the hands off her flesh, turn and lash out. He had some nerve, fondling her so intimately. Instead, she let him play with her tits. "You can't possibly avoid me forever, you know," Carl whispered, kissing the back of her neck, his clothed body pressing against her naked back. Connie moaned softly, and wondered what had happened to Jerry. The noise of the washing machine made it impossible to hear if the shower was still on or not. Maybe Jerry would come in and save her before things had gone too far.
Carl slid one hand down her belly, combed his fingers into her moist, squeaky-clean pubic patch. The gentle pressure was more arousing than if he had slid a finger into her cunt. She pushed her pelvis forward, not sure whether she was trying to get him to probe her pussy, or to throw him off.
His hand touched the washing machine, transferred the vibrations straight to the heart of her cunt. It was like being attached to a live wire. A dry, ragged, animal cry was torn from her throat. She pushed her hips harder against the machine, ground Carl's hand into her crotch, pinched it between herself and the quivering machine. Carl pressed one finger into her slit, drilled it deep into her simmering hole, then hooked it and pushed his palm against her clit. His hand shook because of the machine. Connie thought she was going to die because it felt so good. She squirmed her hips, mashing his hands between the dancing clothes washer and her pubic arch.
Carl extracted his hand from its painful trap. But she didn't care, because she was able to grind her clit against the hard metal corner of the quivering machine. Her whole pelvis shuddered in time with the washer. She was a glittering mass of pleasure.
But it wasn't a cock, and it wasn't in her cunt, and her cunt was weeping because it was so empty. She knew she wasn't going to reach her peak without a hot, hard cock jamming her starving cunt. So, when she felt Carl's hands on her again, urging her to turn and face him, she let him rotate her. She had just enough strength to keep from falling down. Otherwise, she was putty in his hands. He pushed her back against the shaking washing machine. She spread her feet on the hard concrete floor. The corner of the machine wedged into the crack of her ass. The shaking drummed up through her whole body. She opened her eyes, and looked down. Carl was naked. His massive, pale cock, with its rounded pink head, was aimed at her flawless tummy. She looked up into his deep, blue eyes. Tears were blurring her vision as she began begging him.
"Please?" she whispered, too softly to be heard over the washing machines. "Please?" she repeated, more loudly, pleading for release from her agonizing hunger.
Carl grasped his cock and bent it downward, aimed it below the roundness of her belly, and into her strawberry-blonde snatch. The head wedged between her cunt lips. She was shaking because of both her excitement and the vibrating washer.
She pushed up on her toes, sliding her ass up the corner of the machine. She felt the hard corner between the cheeks of her ass as she rose, trying to sit on the shaking metal.
Carl caught onto what she was trying to do. He gripped her waist and lifted her easily so she was sitting on top of the washing machine. Her entire body was quivering right along with it. She sat on the corner, one leg dangling down the side, one down the front. The corner of the steel cabinet ground against her ass.
Carl stepped forward and aimed his cock straight into her pussy. Her cunt was on just the right level for a quick thrust. He pulled her forward a little, until she teetered precariously. He set the head of his cock between her cunt lips, wedged her quivering slit open. He pushed, and the bulb of his cock entered her cunt. The sensation of being shaken violently while a relatively motionless cock entered her was almost more than she could bear. She stopped steadying herself on the machine with her hands, and grabbed Carl's shoulders, and then looked down at the meaty shaft connecting them.
She watched as it slowly slid into her trembling cunt. She loved the sight of her pale, sleek, graceful legs dangling on either side of Carl's strong ones. Her whole body shivered in time with the wild drumming of the washer. "God," Carl groaned, "I hope that damn machine doesn't stop." "If it does," Connie moaned, "you can turn the timer around until it starts again." Her voice shook from the vibrations that were shaking her whole body from head to toe. Her hips were the focus of her quivering. The hard corner of the machine pounded into her ass. Her body transferred the mad shivering of the machine to the rigid cock in her cunt. The washing machine gave a loud click, and the vibrating began to die away. Frantically, Connie reached back with one hand, trying to find the controls. She rapped her knuckles on the panel, fumbled along it, found the knob and gave it a twist.
"A little more," Carl whispered. "There!"
The shaking began to build as the machine started a second spin cycle. The reaching had shifted her slightly on the top of the machine. Suddenly her asshole was being ravaged by the jutting corner of the washer. She thought it had been good before! The new sensation was absolutely fantastic. Connie learned abruptly that her asshole was an erogenous zone. The shaking corner of the machine pried into the tight hole, and she thought she was going to die from the pleasure. Her lust flashed like a strobe light as her asshole was battered by the quaking machine. A cock crammed its way into her cunt, and she soared to an orgasm of incredible intensity. She stayed at the peak, holding onto the insane pleasure as the machine spun on and on. The feel of Carl pistoning his cock in and out of her shuddering cunt was secondary. Her primary attention was on the flame point in her ass. She let him do as he wished with the rest of her body.
Carl moved in her. Holding onto her waist, he pistoned his cock in and out of her wet hole. His prick moved in and out of her shivering pussy with a vibrating motion that stimulated her cuntal nerves in a way they had never been stimulated before. Her whole body was seething with pleasure. He heaved into her, harder and harder and harder, but the pleasure he gave her still couldn't match that from the pounding washer. She felt him slam into her and then his whole body was pressing against her. Her clitoris was trapped between her own chattering pubic arch and his still one, and became another point of searing pleasure.
She didn't even feel his cock pour its thick load of cum into her clenched cunt. She hung on the edge of the machine, keeping herself balanced there by holding onto his shoulders. Her legs were dancing wildly on either side of his. Her head lolled back. Her face was a mask of passion. Her tits quivered as her orgasm lashed her to a paste.
She didn't start to come down from her orgasmic high until the washer finished the spin cycle and gradually slowed. She was utterly drained and limp from the experience, and leaned forward and rested her forehead on Carl's shoulder. His prick was shrinking inside her, but he made no move to retrieve its withered length from her dripping cunt. When he did pull out, and she felt her cunt snap shut, his load of cum still in its folds, she almost burst into tears. All she could think was that she had done it again. She was a... a slut. She'd do anything, with anyone. Anywhere. Any time. Push the right buttons and watch Connie fuck. She felt sick.
Easing herself down off the washer, Connie turned her back on Carl and did her best to ignore him. She tried to ignore the fact that he was naked and that she was naked. She walked around the laundry room while cum trickled down her thighs. She could feel cool air touching her all over. She could feel his jism drying on her cunt. Her nipples were still stiff.
Bending over, she started hauling her clothes out of the washing machine. She felt Carl staring at her ass. She had to bend over farther to reach the bottom of the tub. The cold, hard edge of the washer cut into her. She knew Carl must be able to see her cunt up between her thighs. He must be able to see her asshole, too. She was acutely conscious of her asshole. She still felt twinges of insane ecstasy from having the vibrating corner of the washer digging into the muscular ring.
Hugging the load of damp clothes to her tits, she carried it to a drier.
She tried to ignore the way Carl was watching her, every step of the way.
She felt incredibly naked as she opened the door of the dryer. Jerry Peterson's entering the laundry room did nothing to decrease Connie's feeling of exposure and vulnerability. She tried to concentrate on loading the dryer. She knew the two boys were watching her. Jerry checked his washing machine, then leaned back against it. He was naked.
Carl was naked.
Connie wished she could hide. She felt their eyes on her. She felt a creeping, hot flow of excitement in her guts.
She was fully conscious of the effect she was having on both boys. Carl, who had so recently cum, showed it the least. His prick was half hard, thick and round and swollen, but still drooping. Jerry's cock was fully erect, thrusting out boldly from his brown thatch. She remembered sucking his cock. She remembered how hot and hard it had been in her mouth.
She remembered how it had pulsed and squirmed as it unloaded down her throat. She remembered the taste of his hot, thick, sticky cum. Lust raged through her as she tried desperately to ignore the steadily building tension in the small room.
"What's with her?" Jerry asked at last.
"A severe case of post-coital guilt," Carl answered.
"Again, huh?"
"Again."
"You know what she needs?" Jerry mused. "What?"
"She needs a good fuck."
Connie tensed. She felt totally helpless.
"What do you think she just had?" Carl retorted, miffed. "A good fuck," Jerry assured the other boy. "But I mean a good Fuck, with a capital 'F'. I mean something so far out and completely raunchy that it'll get rid of the last of her inhibitions." "Oh."
Connie looked around, searching for some escape, but there was no way out. Jerry was now blocking the one exit from the room. His throbbing cock extended heavily from his groin. Carl, his arms folded across his chest, appeared to be nearly as ready. His prick was almost fully erect. What made it worse for Connie was the deep down suspicion that she dick 't really want to get away. She felt an itch of anticipation and desire in her cunt. She remembered sucking Jerry's cock, and being fucked by him on the bus. And there was the recent session with Carl, and the incredible vibrating washer.
"Look at her tits," Carl observed. "I think you're right. I think she'd like to."
Connie shook her head weakly. Her nipples belied the feeble denial. The rose-tinted nubbins sat up alertly, eagerly. They ached with desire. "Noooo," she moaned, backing away as the two naked men advanced on her. Her bare ass bumped up against the cold metal of Jerry's washing machine, and she felt the pulsing, pumping vibration drumming through her pelvis. She tried to fend them off with her hands. Each captured one of her wrists with disdainful ease. Pinning her arms back, they used their free hands on the firm mounds of her tits. Two hands, two different, unrelated hands, touched and pinched and molded her soft warm globes. Raw lust was ripping through her. She felt her tits being pinched and tugged. Flames lashed through her. She writhed sensuously.
The grip they each had on her wrists eased. Connie made no attempt to throw them off and escape. She was held there by her own lust. They bowed their heads, almost as if they had rehearsed it. Lips nuzzled her tits, and she thought she was going to cum right then, with nothing in her cunt at all. Her nipples were agonizing knots of ecstasy. They were so swollen they felt like they were about to burst. She felt her cunt swelling and throbbing and oozing as her tits were tormented. She curled her arms around their heads, crushed their faces against her soft, warm tits. She felt Carl's hair on one bare arm, Jerry's on the other. Both needed a shave, and the scraping of their stubble against her sensitive skin added one more bit of delicious stimulation. Without taking their mouths away from her tits, they lifted her up onto the thumping, sloshing washer. Their hands dug into her small waist. Keeping her arms curled around their necks, she threw her head back. Their sucking and nursing on her aroused tits was keeping her in a blazing inferno of lust. The pounding of the washer matched her heartbeat and reinforced her pulse. Her whole body was throbbing in time with the machine.
Hands touched the insides of her thighs. She let her legs be eased open, permitted access to her strawberry patch, her soft cunt lips. Hard masculine fingers scraped across the nerve endings on her inner thighs, parted her outer cunt lips, let air strike in between her steaming inner folds.
The first break in the teamwork came at that moment, but it was more arousing than upsetting. For a second, Carl and Jerry competed for possession of her cunt. Then one of them, she didn't know which, plunged two fingers into her dripping opening, and the other concentrated on her cunt.
Connie spread her thighs wider, and edged her ass closer to the edge of the pounding washer, inviting deeper penetration, more intimate exploration. She felt a stark need to have her rippled, slippery cunt filled with something more than a couple of fingers. Jerry pulled away from her nipple. He kept the suction up so her tit was hauled outward. Then his lips pulled free with a soft sucking sound. He looked at her.
"Beg for it," he said softly.
Connie shook her head. Not because she didn't want what he was offering, but because she wanted to see how much more she could take before having to scream her surrender to her body.
Jerry rolled her clitoris, his fingers slipping on her cuntal juices. The stimulation was maddening. "Beg for it," he repeated. Connie was starting to crack. "Please," she whimpered.
"Please what?"
Carl was still working on her nipple. He was sucking hard now, drawing part of her tit in against his teeth. He was crushing her nerve-packed clit against the roof of his mouth.
"Please do me," Connie moaned.
"What? I don't understand. Do what?" Jerry demanded.
"Do me," Connie pleaded.
"The word," Jerry ordered. "Use a word I understand." He ground his thumb down on her clit. It was the last straw and Connie's resistance shattered. "Fuck me," she whispered. "Louder!"
"Fuck me!" she repeated.
"Louder!" Jerry insisted. "Shout it-shout it out!" "FUCK MEEEE!" The shriek tore her throat, echoed through the cave like corridors of the basement like the cry of a damned soul. It jarred Carl away from her tit, shattered the brittle tension. Jerry eased Carl aside, slid in between Connie's thighs. Leaning back on her hands, her ass on the edge of the washer, she watched his cock approach her delicate bush. She felt the head nuzzle in between her cunt lips. She stared up at the ceiling and concentrated on the feeling of her cunt being slowly filled with a wonderful, hot, heavy cock. As Jerry eased his prick into her willing body, she felt the ripples in her cuntal walls spread and stretch to accommodate his bulk. In a few seconds she was full, glutted. She clenched her cunt around his cock, trying to keep it deep in her body. Under her, the washer's rhythm changed. A pump pulsed and water was sucked from the tub. The drum slowly began to build up speed for the spin cycle. Connie began to quiver. The prick clasped in her shivered, twitched, and she thought she was going to faint because it felt so incredibly good.
Jerry held himself away from the washer. His feet were planted firmly on the hard floor. He drew his prick out and slid it back in, letting Connie do the quivering as he fucked her. The walls of her cunt shivered insanely as his cock slid in and out past them. Her tits quivered as her body shook. She felt Carl's palms on her nipples, just on the very tips. He held his hands still and let her tits shiver against his rough palms, and she thought her nipples were going to explode. Connie writhed on the washing machine in the stark laundry room. Leaning back on her arms, her naked torso arched, her tits begging for more stimulation, she shuddered in time with the machine drumming under her. She had her pale, smooth thighs stretched so wide the tendons on the insides were pulled tight. Her ass, cut cruelly by the hard edge of the washer, hung precariously over the side. But she was getting every inch of Jerry's cock into her flaming cunt.
And every time he drove into her, his pubic bone slammed against her wildly shaking crotch, and her clit was mashed for a moment between their bones. Each time it happened an explosion of flame shot through her whole body.
Staring down at his cock, Jerry began moving faster. He watched his gleaming, pale shaft slide in and out of Connie's cunt. He moved his hips in a steady, powerful, humping motion. The only point of contact between them was his cock, and, when he was full depth in her their pubic regions. He moved faster and faster.
Connie knew he was going to cum. She edged her ass a fraction of an inch toward the edge of the washer. She had to get an additional fraction of cock into her ravenous cunt. She was cumming too and a wild, quivering orgasm flickered through her body. She felt the cock in her cunt begin to pulse. She felt heavy, thick spurts of cum spatter into her, and clenched her cunt as hard as she could. The wild heaving of the washer under her naked ass made her remember what had happened a few minutes earlier. Her asshole ached, wanted the shuddering stimulation that it had received before. She knew her orgasm wasn't going to come until that opening was satisfied, too. Jerry's prick slowly faded, began to shrink. He withdrew quickly from her seething hole. She jerked as her cunt was left agonizingly empty. "Your turn," Jerry told Carl.
"No!" Connie yelped. "No, wait!"
"Give it to her!" Jerry urged.
"Not-not my-my cunt!" Connie wailed. "Not my cunt! My ass! Put it up my ASS!"
"Jesus!" Carl muttered in astonishment.
"Shit. And I had to go and be first," Jerry grumbled, forgetting Carl had already had one shot at her.
Connie ignored them. She rolled over on top of the washing machine, and stretched out on her belly diagonally across it. Her legs hung down over the corner of the shaking box. She wriggled, and the corner struck her clitoris. She thrashed uncontrollably for a moment. "My ass," she moaned, her cheek against the cold, quivering metal. "My ass, up my ass! Oh God, oh God, oh God!"
As her voice died away, Carl approached her ass. The pale globes of her asscheeks quivered crazily. He spread her cheeks with his hands, exposed her asshole, and set his cock against the puckered target. "Wet your cock in her cunt, first," Jerry suggested. Connie lay on the machine, waiting, aghast at what she was doing. She couldn't believe she was doing such a thing. She told herself she should heave herself up, kick free of her attackers, and flee. Instead, she remained on the washer, and let Carl's huge cock slide into her slippery, dripping cunt. What was usually the final act was only foreplay this time. She felt his heavy cock draw out. Then the slicked-up glans wedged in between her vibrating asscheeks, pressed against the knot of her asshole. Flames of pleasure swept through her body. The pressure on her anal ring increased, until she felt the slippery head of Carl's cock slowly pry her gate open. She felt her asshole being gradually dilated by his rubbery, demanding cock. The pleasure was incredible. The shaking machine was mangling her cit. The pain, when it came, was just another aspect of the pleasure The agony from her asshole being asked to do what it was not designed to do was unique… an ache, an itch, a sting, all wonderful evidence of the vulgar act she was committing.
She fought to admit the bulk driving against her ass. She battled the automatic clenching of her asshole. She felt her anal ring yield reluctantly. Then there was a stretching feeling and she wondered if she was going to tear wide open.
"Yes!" A brutal snapping feeling sent a fireball of excitement through her. Her anal ring had eased into the groove behind Carl's cockhead! She felt his cock sliding smoothly through her rectal sphincter. She felt unbelievable pressure grow and grow and grow in her guts as his cock shoved deeper. It felt like a telephone pole was sliding up into her shaking, shuddering ass and she loved it!
Carl's hard hands gripped her waist. His hips drove up against her ass. He pushed, and her clit squashed against the stabbing corner of the washer. She was sure she was going to die. The washer clacked and the shaking faded, but it didn't matter, because she had that incredible thing stuffed up her shit chute. He was all the way in her, and she loved it. "Tight," Carl grunted. "Jesus, is she ever tight!"
"Well, Connie?" Jerry asked, leaning down, his face close to her lust-twisted features.
"Fuck my ass, Carl," she moaned. "Do it just do it and do it and do it." Carl drew his cock out, then rammed it back into the tight, hot, velvety tunnel of her ass. She felt his prick burn through the strained ring of her asshole, tug it outward, then push it in. She was empty, then brutally full. Her clit was tugged this way, pushed that way against the hard corner of the washing machine. The enameled metal was slick from her copious cuntal secretions.
"God! I'm going to cum!" Carl announced.
"Yes," Connie whispered. "Cum in me. Cum in my ass. Cum in my ass! Ahhhh!"
She was orgasming, or something. She wasn't sure quite what she was doing. It just kept going on and on and on. If there had been any strength left in her muscles, she would have been thrashing. But she was limp. Carl moved faster, slamming hard against her ass. His prick burned through her asshole and along the clutching walls of her shitter. He moved more and more quickly, more and more sharply. And Connie just kept feeling better and better and better.
And then he stopped, and she felt it. She felt the cock up her ass throbbing powerfully, and knew he was unloading his cum into her bowels. Her entire body throbbed in time with his prick. It swelled and shrank like a beating heart as he pumped spurt after spurt after spurt of hot jism into her incredibly aroused body. The room whirled slowly around her, and then faded into blackness as she fainted. She was only vaguely aware of her body driving his exhausted cock out of her ass.
When she finally gathered her scattered faculties, she felt a stinging chill on her asshole, and knew it was all too, too real. She knew she'd never be the same.
Gentle hands helped her down from the washing machine and over to a chair. She slumped and hung her head between her knees. She smelled of sex and her ass hurt.
"Let's go wash up," Jerry suggested. Connie let them help her to the shower and under the warm spray. Then soapy hands were washing the sweat and cum off her. When she was clean, they cuddled her until she was dry. "Damn you," she whispered at last. "Damn you."
"You needed it," Jerry pointed out.
"I know," Connie sighed. "It's either adapt or die. You forced me to adapt. But poor Paul. He's been left so far, far behind." "Jesus Christ!" Carl exploded. "Paul again!" Jerry ignored the outburst. "What makes you so sure Paul is being left behind?" he asked. "How come you think he's not getting just as much of an education away from you, as you are away from him?"
"He promised."
"So did you," Jerry reminded her.
Connie ignored him. She pulled her robe out of the dryer and put it on. It felt warm and soothing.
There was doubt in her mind about Paul now, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. She was jealous when she thought of him with another girl. But, on the other hand, she hoped he was keeping pace with her sexual development. One thing she was sure of-she was going to stop trying to be faithful to him. She had failed so many times already it was ludicrous. And now that she knew how great anal sex could be, her will power wouldn't be able to stand up to the memory. She wanted more and more and more. She wondered how much it would take to satisfy her the next time.