Chapter 3
The atmosphere was pungent and smoky and the softly-tuned jazz from the record player mingled like an aural incense.
Linda and Desmond lay on the floor listening to the music and he stroked her bottom through her dress.
"Let's have another drag," she breathed, moving her hand slowly towards the thin cigarette between his lips. They had told her not to expect anything from the first one and she had gone on smoking while they smoked, quietly inhaling, taking in a lot of air with the smoke as they suggested. Now she felt tranquilly wonderful. The room around her seemed a world in which she would live forever. She had no idea of the time and didn't care. All around her were friends, all those couples lounging and lying in the big room, hardly speaking, fondling a little, talking quietly. Betty was over there lying on the floor looking up at the ceiling with a smile on her face and Jim was lying with her, looking at the ceiling too.
She felt a great liking for Des and a great intimacy with him. He was stroking her bottom gently, feeling its round bulge lingeringly and he had a kind look on his face. She felt she was safe and at peace with Desmond. She never wanted to go home. Home! She smiled happily. It didn't bear thinking about.
She drew in on the cigarette and the smoke passed in a dry relief down her throat; the sweet, exotic aroma floated to her nostrils and she breathed deeply, with concentration. Then she relaxed and passed the butt end back to Desmond and the music enveloped her softly in an erotic wave of peace the way his arm and his gently stroking hand enveloped her.
Sam was sitting next to the record player. It was he who made possible this peace, this discovery. She felt tender towards him and to his mistress whose money had provided this Hampstead flat.
The record slid to an end and after a while someone put on another. Most of the girls were young about eighteen and the men a few years older except for Sam who looked about thirty. His mistress was supposed to have a lot of money.
"Linda." It was Betty's voice. She moved her head and looked over. Jim had undone the top buttons of her dress and had his hand inside. "I feel good."
Betty was going to have it tonight. Linda knew that for sure as she smiled back. This marihuana, "pot" they called it, was great stuff.
She listened, again to the record. It was very clear. Everything was very clear, even the sound of Desmond's hand stroking her buttocks and Jim rustling Betty's dress.
"How do you feel ? "
She looked up at Des.
"I feel wonderful."
Her heart overflowed with tenderness for him and she knew that she could tell him anything if she wanted to, that he felt the same for her. She leaned up and kissed him suddenly, tenderly, on the cheek and he moved his hand from the full flower of her buttocks down between them over the dress, sharply aware of the sudden cleavage into separate orbs. His fingers between her legs pressed through the dress and briefs to the fleshy line of her labia. The tenderness she felt flushed in a tender, warm desire to give herself. Desmond felt soft warmth under his hand.
"Any room outside?" he asked Sam softly. It seemed to Linda that his voice rang clearly through the room.
Sam jerked his head absently towards the door and resumed his glazed concentration on the music.
"Let's go," Des whispered to her, pressing his fingers meaningfully against the hot, giving ridge between her legs.
"All right."
They rose quietly and she was suddenly aware of a floating unsteadiness in her limbs. Nobody took any notice of them. She was vaguely aware that Jim was kissing Betty and that Betty had one breast bare and protruding from her dress. Around the room everyone seemed to be necking or lying still.
With an arm around her, steadying her, they left the room quietly. Outside, the air was cooler, the thickness of the atmosphere cleared and for the first time she felt slightly dizzy and gave a giggle.
"What's the matter?" Desmond grinned at her.
"Nothing I felt a bit dizzy that's all."
He caught hold of her then and kissed her, pressing her hard against a wall so that she felt dizzy again as if she were sinking slowly through turns and turns of a spiral staircase.
His hands cupped her buttocks, pushing her hips out from the wall against his hips. She heard the loudness of his breathing. She put up her hands and caught his face and pushed her tongue into his mouth and rubbed her lips against him, murmuring little sounds all the time.
He released her suddenly and drew her along the passage and through a door into a bedroom. Moonlight came in through a window beyond a glass partition which cut the room in two. It all seemed hardly real. She was vividly aware of a number of objects which seemed to come toward her suddenly and unexpectedly and have no relation with one another.
Des pushed the partition back a little without switching on the light and they passed through into the small room beyond. Thankfully she sank down onto the bed, pulling him down with her. The sensation of lying down and the roaming in her head was a delicious combination and she felt tender and generous and her body seemed like an acutely strung instrument ready for ecstatic sensual use.
"Take your clothes off," Des whispered, in the moonlight.
"Take them off for me," she whispered back, settling snugly on the bed.
She felt his hands pulling her dress gently up over her hips, her breasts, felt him move her arms and pull it off over her head. The cool air and the cool counterpane refreshed her skin like a shower. She felt him fumbling with her brassiere and he pulled her half up, holding her against him. Her face came up against his loins and she rubbed her cheek against him. But something kept her at a distance from his body, a great, hot bulge in his trousers. She turned her face towards it, looking at it. She felt a tenderness towards it, a desire to caress and fondle. Slowly she moved her hand on his leg as he held her, still fumbling. The bulge was farther away than she'd anticipated, but her hand reached it and closed over it, creasing the trousers around it. Far above her she heard him gasp and against her hand she felt the flexing of bulge and hips behind it.
Gently she squeezed it through the cloth, trying to feel its length. She kissed the bulge tenderly and on an impulse bit it gently through the clothing.
She saw his hand come whitely down between her face and the bulge and, fascinated, watched it pull at buttons which jerked undone one after the other.
She pushed his hand away and, with her movement, felt her bra slip down off her breasts. There was still a wild floating in her head, but she focused on the opening and pushed her hand through it. Her hand was assailed by the heat of his loins. She searched around with her fingers, pulling aside his shirt, eventually finding the slit in his pants while he strained impatiently against her. She felt the hot, hard length against her hand hard, but with a soft, delightful surface. She pulled and it shot out through the opening. Des grunted above her.
It felt beautiful in her hand; a long, white, hot, soft-textured length of stiff Plasticine to play with and mold.
She could see it white, almost luminous in the moonlight. He let her feel it, breathing heavily, pressing against her as he held her up on the bed.
The length of white substance was almost the whole range of her vision. Beyond that was only the vague floating and the clear sound of his breathing.
She stroked it and slowly pulled back the skin from the end-knob which glowed redly at her in contrast with the soft folds of the drawn-back whiteness. Gently she moved her fingers on it and held it in her hand, squeezing slightly and then harder to see how hard he could stand it. The object was hot and slightly pliable under her hand a beautiful thing.
His hand came down over hers at last and he moved her hand up and down with his over his penis. She began the gentle massage and continued when he let go and pushed his hips out at her with a gasp.
He began to squirm and rock on his feet. She could feel the rocking movement against her and it seemed to make her float farther away with her white penis in her hand.
The sound of his passion was like a rushing sea above her and again his hand came down and pulled her hand away. She released him reluctantly and then he had caught hold of her face and was jabbing his penis gently against her soft lips. For a moment she didn't understand what was going on, but the pressure was there, heavily, on her mouth and automatically her lips opened and the white flesh plunged into her mouth. For a moment she fought against it, afraid she would choke, but he held it there and reached down to stroke her breasts. Floating, hardly aware of what she was doing she began to move her mouth against the soft velvet which filled it.
She was aware of a trembling behind her breasts, almost as if it had nothing to do with her directly and she sucked at the heat between her lips, trying to cool it.
Above her was the moaning, rushing from his lips; his hand pressed hard against her hair, forcing her against his loins. She licked the knob with her tongue, enjoying its smoothness. It was like a big, velvety lollipop which she would eventually swallow. She caught it in her hand, holding it against her mouth while she sucked the end; nothing seemed strange in her activity; she sucked as if she did it every day of her life in a normal routine.
In her floating, spiraling mind it seemed that the great thing was expanding, that it would fill her mouth and plunge down her throat, perhaps to emerge through her vagina. She felt a giggle deep inside her and sucked harder.
Above her, his moaning had reached a frenzied pitch and he was no longer rocking, but had locked his thighs together and was rigidly flexing his hips at her while he leaned slightly backwards with the top part of his body.
She heard the moaning break into little barks, coughing barks of sound and he pushed into her mouth, grazing the velvet organ along her teeth, choking her. And she felt her mouth flooded suddenly with a hot, sticky wetness which encircled her tongue and lodged on her palate and oozed down her gullet.
He sank against her and she realized vaguely that it was finished, found the knob, slight and limp now, still in her lips and gave it a few little sucks and licks before letting it flop out against his trousers.
She lay back on the bed, aware of its whiteness, like the whiteness of him. Through the window there was only the silver space of the sky washed in the moonlight. It seemed to envelop her; she felt a great delight in it.
After a little while she felt him against her, naked, warm and soft-skinned and his hands ran fluidly over her bare breasts and pulled her briefs down over her thighs and off her feet. He was sitting up looking at her. He kissed her belly, her breasts, moved his lips moistly over her soft body. He kissed her knees, her thighs and she was tenderly excited.
His lips moved up her thighs. He turned her over and kissed her buttocks, her back, running his lips down her spine. She shivered delightedly and he turned her on her back again and opened her legs. She felt his face there, slightly rough between her thighs. She was floating happily, sensually, and all she had to do was lie there and he would give her joy.
And suddenly his mouth had moved up between her warm thighs to the long lips between her legs, his tongue had darted out and into her vagina. She pulled up her legs, gasping and then reached down to grasp his head as she actively began to move into a rhythm with him, unable just to lie, wanting to float and writhe and twist, unearthly and above the world in a torment of strange passion.
Desmond buried his face in her crotch and sucked her clitoris. He was fairly high, but nowhere near the way she was. What a find! he was thinking. What a hot little bitch! And now he was going to fuck the daylights out of her. God, how she was writhing and wriggling and clutching at him and moaning! It was going to be a real kick hearing her moan all the time as if she were in agony.
Against his lips he felt the soft, ragged moistness of her nether lips, the hard slipperiness of the clitoris and then he withdrew and slithered up onto her, wriggling up between her legs, crawling onto the slim strength of her body.
He lay along her and she lay under him with her eyes closed and her hips moving like prayers in the moonlight. She was pretty, damned pretty. God, what a kick! And her pretty face and excellent body were tormented now in a marihuana maelstrom which was making sex seem like the end of the world.
He was sent by the pot he'd had and the sight of her puckered face and the feel of her body underneath him and he covered her mouth passionately with his, sucking at her moist, lost lips and tongue the way he'd sucked at her clitoris.
Her breasts were like soft, pointed cushions beneath him and her hips like a pillow. He strained against her, crushing his prick against the little lawn of hair down there at the point. She wriggled against him and moaned.
Slipping down on her a little, he guided his prick at her cranny with his hand. It was throbbing with a certain feeling of frustration.
He moved a hand against her thighs and she pulled them higher and then he had crushed slowly, agonizingly through the labia up into the vagina, high up towards the cervix and was beginning to undulate his behind between her legs. His frustration disappeared on the first entry and all his high excitement zipped down through his body to that one penetrating rod of sensation lost in her fleshy passage.
Up and down, up and down, gently, gently and growing stronger his hips played, while his penis drove in and out, in and out and an explosion of sound escaped his lips on every stroke.
The girl grasped his shoulders and then put her arms tightly around him as if she were hanging onto some whirling machine at a fair; her mouth hung open letting outa stream of low sound. His penis, cleaving into her, had a permanent acute sensation as if he wanted to pee and couldn't. Her tight little passage sucked pains of joy out of his lost flesh with each thrust.
God, oh, what a kick, oh, oh; the words danced in a vague pas de deux with a plethora of feeling in his head. Her skin caught and brushed and battled with his as she wriggled against him. Her thighs squeezed and released and as he explored farther and farther, letting the knob lead on into the welcoming tunnel, she swung her legs up and wrapped them around his waist, crushing him in a vise as she gasped out.
She was gone, really gone, with eyes closed, just a body abandoning itself. What a sexy little bitch! And he was half gone and it was wonderful, out of this world, that great sucking pool of joy down there where they met and mingled and he dominated and she gave and begged for more.
He put his hand around her buttocks. What delightful mounds they were a little too big for his hands, they overflowed and he could lose his fingers in them as they relaxed. When they tautened he pushed his fingers between them and felt the little anus. It was a tiny little slit, like an unopened vagina in a small child. She squirmed, squirming within squirms as he touched it. She contrived to press it against his fingers as with her arms she pulled his hips at her loins. He dug his finger at its resistant surface and felt the little, glossy crack give and his finger worm in a little.
"Oh Des, oh Des," she moaned as his finger moved into the soft hole. He moved it around within the tight cavity to bring more passion from her limbs as he fucked her.
As his hips writhed and squirmed, impelling his rigid member up between her hot, flailing thighs he rubbed his chest across her breasts, feeling the hard nipples brush his firm flesh, feeling the full, solid flesh of the breasts resist and give and suck against him.
She brought down her slim thighs from around him and spread them out on either side, horizontally so that tendons showed between thighs and crotch. He rammed into the greater depth that that gave him and she jerked with the sudden excruciating expanse of his filling.
She reached around him with her arms and pulled his head onto hers, biting his lips, thrusting out her tongue, licking him, biting and licking and sucking his neck. When he bit her neck, she cried out and hugged him closer, swinging back her thighs to press him into her.
His rhythm which had grown farther and almost brutal began to slow as he felt the end drawing ecstatically near.
She too began to wriggle all the time, clamping her buttocks together on his hands, pushing her hips flat into his and then relaxing, moaning and gasping and waving her tongue in his mouth.
God, this time he would die! It was too excruciating to bear! He soared slowly, crushingly into her, up and up, never ending, a feast of sensation all the way.
He was vaguely aware that she was almost delirious, rocking and moaning against him and flexing her loins with every stroke. He heard her gasp in a long drone of excitement and pain, felt her wriggle in a sharp, furious movement as he pulled her behind at him and then she was pressing her hips at his off the bed for several seconds as she cried out her fulfillment.
She continued to hold him tightly, with her lips moving in a prolonged ecstasy while he forced his staff up and up in great, grand, final movements, feeling the tissues of her passage clutching at him, drawing the lifeblood from his penis which would surely shatter into total destruction.
"Oh God, God, you lovely bitch, ooh, oh!" His knob seemed to be growing and growing, heavy with its imminent discharge. His whole length of penis seemed to expand, to hurt, to have a needle running sharply down its center. He dug his nails into her, felt her hands around him, digging, urging, asking for his sperm. His penis had grown to an enormity and she was groaning again. It was going to suddenly turn inside out, it would burst. He gasped, caught his breath and then lost it in a great surging of his lungs as needle after red-hot needle of ecstatic pain shot hotly and wetly from him to her in a culminating blaze.
He wriggled his prick into her even when it was growing limp and empty. He didn't want it to be over, that delight which was better than he'd had before.
At last he lay still on her hot, rounded body, which was still as death, but with a heart he could feel pumping at a declining fury of speed.
She opened her eyes at last and smiled at him, kissing his cheek.
"God, that was wonderful," she whispered.
"You said it."
He felt a great contentment and satisfaction; a temporary euphoria in which he wanted to lie for as long as possible.
"You're heavy," she said after a while, and he rolled off and lay beside her with one arm across the peaks of her breasts.
He felt now the full effects of the pot. He wanted to lie absolutely still and take delight in the fact of being warm and still and able to watch the moonlight and have his arm across her warm, smooth breasts.
They lay for a long time without speaking, perfectly still.
The opening of the outer door and a shaft of light flooding the outer room and cutting across the wall beyond the foot of their bed disturbed them slightly, but not even enough to make them turn their heads. They remained still, looking at the long yellow shaft lighting up the yellow wallpaper and the top of a chest of drawers. They heard the door close.
"Nobody here," came Jim's voice, hazy and strange, from the other room.
There was the sound of footsteps across the outer room followed by that of someone falling on the bed.
"Oh, I feel as if I'm not really here." It was Betty's voice, slow and careful as if she was having difficulty in speaking.
Linda stirred, attempting to sit up, but Desmond held her down, putting a finger to his lips.
"Perhaps we'll see something amusing," he whispered with a wink.
Linda stifled a giggle. What a joke. Betty was about to be fucked for the first time and she and Des would probably be witnesses. How funny!
"Get down on the other side of the bed," Des whispered. They slid nakedly off the bed and crouched down on the side away from the partition. Des reached up and pulled their clothes down with them.
There was a murmur of voices from the other room. Linda was trying to stifle her growing desire to laugh.
The light flashed on in the other room and filtered dimly through the partition. They heard Jim moving and then his voice saying: "Looks as if someone was in the other room, but it's empty now. You want to go in there?"
Linda held her breath.
"No, I can't move off this bed. Let's stay here."
There was silence with a few muffled noises for a time and then Betty's voice.
"Why don't you turn the light off."
"No, I want to see you. God, you're beautiful."
Gently Des and Linda eased themselves up. The light came through very dimly. They climbed softly onto the bed and lay out flat facing the partition, watching.
Betty was lying on her side, her back towards them, unclothed and Jim, in a similar state of nudity, was leaning over her on the bed.
"Jees, she's almost as good as you," Des whispered.
She looked pretty good, Linda admitted to herself. Slim shoulders which curved down in a long line to her hip, exaggerated by her reclining position. Her bottom was bigger than Linda's, each separate buttock seeming to belong to the other, cast in an embracing, oval mold. Her thighs were shorter, more muscular that was what gave her the dumpier, slightly more sexy appearance; her calves were slim and strong.
She saw Jim's body, too, with its hair. It seemed to be almost covered with hair: on his chest his shoulders, his thighs, his belly and in a great fuzz around his fat, white erection. Linda felt a thrill of excitement to think that a few days ago she'd been a virgin and now she'd seen three pricks and been fucked by two men.
They watched Betty, saw her put out her hand and touch the giant rod. All her nervousness, her inhibitions had disappeared, Linda noticed. That was the pot.
Jim slid down beside her and they saw him kiss her, watched Betty roll back so that she was flat on the bed and her breasts pointed to the ceiling. They were whoppers, Linda thought. She remembered how they had developed before hers and how embarrassed Betty had been about them at first.
Their faces were fused and Linda saw Jim's hand stray away and flow over first the right breast and then the left. She could hear Betty's breathing quite clearly.
"She's a virgin," she whispered to Desmond.
"No kidding!"
Desmond looked through the partition into the clearly-lit room with an interest that approached envy. What a feeling of power that was to be initiating someone into the ways of sex. He wondered how long it would take Jim to find out.
They saw Jim's hand stray away over her ribs down over the belly and the film of hair that was just visible. Betty kept her legs together for the moment, but as he fingered her around the sweating vault of her crotch, she opened them for him.
"He's lucky," Linda whispered. "If it hadn't been for the pot she'd have been terribly embarrassed she might not even have wanted it at all."
"She'll be a damn good fuck once she knows how," Des murmured. "D'you see the flesh on those hips?"
"How about me?" Linda pouted.
"Oh, you're tops already." He risked the rustle to rub his hand over her rump and she hid her face because she wanted to giggle again.
Jim, meanwhile, had pushed his fingers into Betty's vagina. She had cried out at first, but now she was wriggling around with her thighs half open and her head moving from side to side as he kissed her neck.
Jim took her hand at last and placed it around his prick, squeezing it round him. They saw his organ shooting out over Betty's hips as he lay alongside her.
"She's learning," Des whispered, as Betty began to squeeze and caress the rigid flesh and Jim began to breathe heavily and push his hips and thighs against her side.
Jim moved his mouth down and they saw the outermost angle of her breast with its cherried nipple disappear into his mouth. Betty gave another shriek and clutched his head after having moved as if to push him away.
"I wonder what they'd say if we burst in on them now," Linda whispered with a grin. "I don't think I can stand much more of this."
"Nuts," Des whispered back. "Nothing more exciting than being a Peeping Tom. I want to see how she looks when she s having it for the first time."
By now Jim's penis was flaming red, turning almost purple. He moved as if to climb onto Betty, and they heard the words falter from her lips: "No, not yet, not for a bit."
Jim sank down again and they could see his wrist jerking about between her thighs.
"I I didn't tell you but I'm a virgin," Betty said softly.
At first they could see that Jim hardly believed her.
"God almighty," he said at last. "Where you been all this time and with a body like that?"
Linda hid her face in the counterpane again and Des followed suit. Jim had looked comically surprised almost hurt that she'd never known a man before.
He recovered eventually, while she lay with eyes closed, wriggling quietly against the wrist between her muscular, white thighs, and he began his digital penetration with greater care and relish. He actually looked down towards her slit as if he wanted to see what a virgin's hole looked like. Des, watching, felt a fresh pang of desire.
Kissing her breasts, mauling her, Jim was gradually getting her more and more excited. She'd spread her legs wide, now, and was squeezing his penis so hard that he had to tell her to ease off.
"Do you think we can try it now?" he panted.
There was a moment of hesitation. Linda knew just what fear, excitement and desire for complete abandon were battling in Betty's head.
"Yes, all right."
Jim knelt up and climbed between Betty's legs. Her knees came up chest high on either side of him. Linda, seeing his fat thing stabbing out like a spar at an angle of 75 degrees with his belly felt a sudden desire to be filled again, but she couldn't take her eyes from the drama of devirgination. Des, too, lay transfixed.
Gently Jim stretched out on Betty, who gave a little whimper of anticipation as she felt his thighs move out under hers, his knees against her upturned buttocks.
They almost lost sight of his prick as he guided it with his hand, but they heard Betty's sudden shrill gasp and saw her jerk as if she'd been stung.
"Ooooh, oh!" she gasped. "Oh, please." Her head was flung back and in spite of her gasps she made no effort to push him off. She was taking it very well after the preliminary fingering.
When Jim's hand came away they could see where his prick had made a bridgehead. Just the knob and a bit more inside her; the rest they could see, white and somehow tense-looking. Betty had a look of strain about her for the moment. They could see the delightfully voluptuous line of her buttocks, tensed, slightly lifted in the strain, waiting for further shock. It hollowed in like a piece of molded clay.
"What I wouldn't do to have those buttocks in my hands," Des was thinking. "I'd give her something she'd remember for her first time."
"Stop moving, they'll hear you," Linda squeaked.
He realized he'd been moving his hips on the bed. He grinned and put his hand between her legs. In answer she pushed her hand under him, searching for his prick. He turned over towards her, still watching the others through the partition. She saw his prick had fattened again into its burden of desire. She caught it and began to move the skin softly up and down. Trying to stifle his breathing, Des let her start to toss him off. The pulsation in his penis was the more acute from his watching the spectacle.
Linda, too, turned her eyes back to the partition while continuing to massage the stiff mast of flesh at her side. It gave her a vicarious thrill to be filling Des with sensation, to be able to feel his great, hot doughy thing in her hand, between her deft fingers.
Betty was giving a series of little shrieks back in the other room, while Jim gently edged into her. His face was an open key to his passion. His mouth hung open, panting and his face was screwed up, tense. He won't hold himself back much longer, Des thought, watching and feeling his own passion rise as he followed their movements and felt the relentless hand on his penis.
Jim had placed his hand under Betty's bottom and pulled her hips up towards him a little, ranging his organ. Betty, with her eyes closed, the corners screwed up in a pain which was still half anticipation, was trembling and gasping.
Suddenly, with a firm thrust of his hips, Jim surged into her. They saw his white prick tear right in, disappearing, inch by inch, smoothly and quickly, from their view.
His head went back as he thrust. The tight, resisting passage gave him a sensual joy which was almost unbearable. Betty's head strained back into the pillow and her body arched up in shock as she gave another little scream.
"Oh, oh, oh, you're hurting me!"
But there was no quarter now. Jim had lost his prick in her and there was no going back. He couldn't even if she really wanted him to.
After several slow strokes which brought his penis almost right out into their vision and then plunged it right back again so that they could see where his black bush of hair met the raw flesh of her love lips, Betty's cries of pain calmed and settled into groans which could be a mixture of pain and passion.
Jim lowered his head and they saw her lips move round toward his, as she felt his breath on her cheek. Her face was screwed up with a torture which was exquisite. They were making so much noise now, that they couldn't hear the labored breathing from the next room.
In, in, in. Betty's virgin body was rifled, her channel scourged by a great, foreign body which marihuana had made her want more than ever. And now she knew the pain and ecstasy of it, the completion of herself, the end of those nights of wondering, fearfully desiring, unknowing.
Linda and Des watched gluttonously, following every movement as the two crushed bodies became one and sank into a single rhythm, sometimes faster, sometimes slower, according to the lead which Jim gave.
They watched the muscles on her thighs contract as they pressed him, saw her buttocks tense and relax, her breasts flattened slightly under his weight. Above all they watched that source and center of the joy, that strangely naked section where his piece of protrusion fitted into her hollow and their hair mingled and moisture began to run and slide around her crotch and over his prick as it withdrew. Linda watched, fascinated as Jim's balls swung slightly, skinnily with their movement. Her hand moved, still on Desmond's penis, and in her mind it was moving on Jim's.
Desmond was straining. In his mind his prick was plunging into Betty, giving her the first experience she'd ever had of sex; his hands held those buttocks, his teats weighed on hers, his mouth on hers, his face hotly against her moist, helpless lips in her hot face.
Jim was gasping for breath as he buried himself in the soft suction of Betty's virginal tautness. He wanted to be brutal now and he pushed her thighs back towards her breasts leaning up from her, pushing with his hips, giving them a last flick into her so that some of his hairs were also sucked in with his flesh and reappeared moistly dripping. Betty writhed slightly, gasping, helpless, lost in herself, hardly aware that it was he, Jim, doing this to her, aware only that her body, that aching channel in her belly, was filled with a strange object which seemed to split it and rub it with an exciting, titillating rhythm which seemed to be growing to a white heat in the wandering haze of her mind.
Desmond, gasping quietly, one hand over his mouth, stared fixedly at the wet, raw area into which Jim's prick was slipping and then fixedly at Betty's tormented face, the face which that raw area was producing, which Jim's raging organ was producing. He watched, stared, fixed his eyes, concentrating until they bulged from his head because he could feel himself coming, and he wanted to be almost feeling that flesh when he came. Beside him Linda was breathing heavily, too, excited by his excitement and by the furious winding up of her friend and his friend in the other room. The air seemed to be filled with gasps and vague, sensual movement.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Desmond moaned softly.
Linda wriggled quickly in towards him, surprised that she should think of the counterpane. She turned over onto her back so that she could get her hip under his soaring flesh without changing her grip. He stared and stared through the partition until suddenly he tensed, seized her and bit her neck in a long roar of breath, and she felt a stream of hot liquid make a wet, punctuated path all the way across her belly.
In the other room the locked couple were coming to their climax. That was obvious from the animal noises they were making. Taking advantage of the noise, Linda slipped off the bed for her handkerchief. She wiped the sperm from her belly and wiped Desmond's penis before getting back onto the bed to watch the final throes.
Betty was wriggling like a worm suddenly come into the light. Her face was contorted with a sort of pain. While they watched they saw her lips move very quickly and then her mouth open very wide as she suddenly convulsed against the body above her and inside her.
The pot's pretty good to get a climax for a virgin, Desmond thought.
Now it was only Jim and he was very near the end. He'd moved his hands to her shoulders as if pinning her to the bed against her will and was leaning up, putting the whole of his weight on her drawn-up thighs. His face, too, was wracked with passion, and his teeth seemed to be gritting together. They saw him slow suddenly, thrust, thrust, thrust and then push hard against her as he choked and then again, choking again and so several times until he'd emptied all into her.
When they'd been lying quietly for a while Desmond and Linda went laughing in to them. The pot made it all very funny and Jim and Betty weren't at all offended that they'd been watched.