Chapter 4
I'll get this over as quickly as possible, Bob thought. Then I'll see what I can about keeping Anne as my constant supply of cunt. Then, and then. ...
"Hurry it up will you," Louise interrupted his thought. "I'm really getting hot looking at the two of you."
But who was paying any attention to her. Lorraine was almost completely gone as she breathed repeatedly, "fuck, fuck, fuck-" Her hips twitched furiously. Her sighs were deep and lustful. Her knees were pulled up and her parted thighs opened and closed.
"I got you, honey," Bob felt a hand at his crotch. It was Louise. Down came his zipper, in went her hand, and out came his goober. The only problem was, how to keep eating Lorraine and give Louise a good shot at him. There was no other way, Bob concluded, or was there . ...
"Up baby," he said to Lorraine, who was panting heavily and fast approaching her first come. She didn't say anything. She knew Bob wouldn't get her so close and then refuse to take her over the hill. Blindly, she obeyed. Anything to make him happy. Anything to make her happy.
Bob didn't bother to take his pants off. He simply opened them completely from the top and pulled them and his underwear down around the lower part of his hips. He lay on the floor on his back and motioned for Lorraine to position herself above him.
"You've got your choice," he directed. "Either sit on my face, or let Louise sit on my face and you sit on my cock. Anne wanted her cunt licked.
"Okay. Louise you can have my cock."
"What about me," Lorraine pouted.
"Okay, okay. Anne shift positions with Lorraine."
Anne pouted.
"I'll finger you now, then fuck you when
Louise is finished."
That's the way it was. Together, they were strung out along the floor from the window which was located at the back of the room, almost up to the door where they had entered. So now you have a pretty good idea of about how large the room actually was.
Lorraine straddled Bob's face and anxiously pushed her weeping, wanton, wishy-washy cunt up to his mouth.
Louise straddled his hips, and guiding her gapping maw, impaled herself upon the throbbing prong.
Anne was already in place by this time. And she was sitting as close as she could to Bob's shoulder, raising her knees to her chest, affording him with a convenient access to her snap-dragon.
Lorraine, who had been very close to coming before, now changed in her position, placed the palms of her hands against the floor and began to nudge her steaming twat into Bob's mouth with the veracity of a jockey coming into the home stretch.
Again she thrust her sweet cunt into his face and over his tongue. Again she lost her self, completely enraptured in her moment of pleasure.
"Faster," she breathed. "Faster, please, faster. Do me good. Make me come. Please make me come."
But Bob knew what he was doing. He had learned his lesson well, and there was going to be no more, absolutely no more jaw cramping, neck stretching, and hp cracking while "he" sucked cunt. He was pro now. And she would soon find out.
Delicately he traced the contours of her cunt lips, found them with his teeth, then bit down. Her body shuddered violently. The pain was null, but the joy, indescribable. Again she shuddered, thrusting her cunt hard against his mouth.
His hands gripped the firm, ripe fruit of her ass, as he luridly pictured himself eating from a bowl, or as he preferred, the horn of plenty.
Louise was trying desperately to maintain some sense of perspective. She understood she could not give total vent to the moans and groans which swelled inside her throat. But the throbbing cock inside her cunt was making it quite difficult. Heatedly, she rolled her hips from side to side. She was beginning to notice the sensual way in which Lorraine wiggled her ass as Bob ate her out.
She, Louise, had never thought of another woman as an object for her own pleasure. At least, not since elementary school. But that was different. All the girls at one time or another had played "squirrel." But now, looking at the creamy white globes of Lorraine's flesh squeezing together, and looking and clenching rhythmically, she couldn't help but feel a slightly added pleasure coursing throughout her being.
Still pushing her hips down upon the cock which gorged deeply into her time and time again, she bent forward and inserted a finger into the puckered brown ass hole.
Lorraine wriggled furiously, pleasingly Surprised at the raw sensuality of this perverse pleasure. At least, she thought it was perverse. No one else had ever stuck their finger up her lass. Never.
Seeing there would be no objections, Louise began to urge her finger deeper into the quivering hole. It was tight and warm around her finger, and she began to thrust her finger in and out the hole. It was getting good to her. The whole bit. All this sex in one room.
She bounced her ass up and down, faster and faster Bob's prick which hooked up in her like a blunt-tipped spear. Up and down she went, twisting and writhing her cunt sheath like a snake.
Deeper and harder, she thrust her finger into Lorraine's ass. Ahhh, yes. She could feel her come about to burst. She was fast becoming powerless to maintain her sense of "proper" control. What time was it? What day? Where was she? Where did everything go?
Then oblivion overtook her. No questions, no answers. For nothing else existed except her and the feeling in her cunt.
Surprisingly enough, Anne spoke first. "I-I think I'm going to come. Yes-yes I am. Ohhh-"
Bob twitched his hips furiously. He had to please her. He had to please them all. He didn't really know why he felt this way at the moment. But he did. And it was more than ego involved here.
Harder he pushed for Louise to get over the hump. He concentrated his tongue action directly upon Lorraine's clitoris. He flicked his tongue back and forth across the sweet little cherry. And at the same time he was screwing and thrusting three fingers hotly into Anne's sweet little hole.
Anne shrieked like a little mouse, immediately followed by a tormented gasp from Louise as she shoved herself fiercely down upon the shaft of cock and gorging her finger into Lorraine's ass as deeply as she could. And Lorraine in turn, started her down tremblings.
They were all coming except Bob. And he was as pleased as punch. Even though Louise thought she was getting his rocks off for him too!
Throughout the "coming" proceedings, Anne had been keeping careful watch on Louise and Bob. She knew Bob hadn't yet come. And now that Louise had gotten her grapes, Anne stood up, love juice immediately running down her inner thighs.
Gently, she pushed Louise off Bob, damn near tearing his cock off the hinge.
She was just in the process of taking her place upon the mighty shaft when Bob pushed her gently away from him. She almost fell over backwards.
"All right you bitches. This is it! Now it's my turn.
Anne looked hurt, but said nothing as each of them gave Bob their fullest attention.
"Anne-" Her face lit up. "Cock to cunt!" She was on him immediately.
"Louise. Finger to cunt. Lorraine-ream me!"
"Ream you-you mean--? "
"Ass to mouth! My ass to your mouth! Correction. Your mouth to my ass-hole!"
"I-I don't know if I-if I can. I never-"
"Ream me," he repeated.
He was the king. These were his subjects. Not that-no-they were his sex slaves. There is a difference between the two, he thought.
Just the thought of it made her stomach turn. But Bob was determined to break her. She's the cocky one, he thought. And if I can get her to eat my ass, even if it's just a little before she pukes, it will be the first step towards procuring a little harem. And I'm sure the other two will follow her example.
This was turning out to be much more than Bob had expected. He was getting some pretty good ideas.
Anne now lay on the floor facing upwards. Bob mounted her, exerting the pressure of his full weight upon her body. Louise sat in front of them with her legs spread and close enough so that Bob could reach her still dripping twat.
Slowly Lorraine got down on all fours, inching her way to Bob's ass. Bob was set. He waited. Outwardly, as cool as a cucumber. But inside, he was tense and anxious. Would she go through with it? Would Lorraine actually eat his ass out as he had directed her to?
He felt her face touching the left cheek of his buttocks. She hesitated momentarily, then gradually began to ease her face between his cheeks.
"Spread them with your hands," Bob again directed her.
She spread them. There before her eyes was the puckery pink little hole of his anus. She couldn't really believe she was doing this. But she dug this guy. He had a hell of a lot of balls to ask her to do something like this. And because of that, she was going to do it. Or at least try.
Quickly, she rummaged mentally through the names of all the guys she knew. She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember a single guy whom she thought had as much balls as Bob.
Yes. She'd eat his ass out. He deserved it. Balls of brass.
She touched it. She actually touched a man's ass-hole with her mouth. There was barely any smell. She was grateful. He was a clean person.
"Touch it with your tongue," he spoke rather raspy.
She frowned distastefully, then stuck out her tongue. She opened her eyes and looked at it again. It was sucked in tightly. Now it was puckered outwardly. She could see the little wrinkles around it.
She stuck her tongue to it again. Then frowning tightly, she shoved her faced forward. She didn't get all of her tongue in there. It was impossible. But more of it did penetrate.
His ass quivered passionately. Then suddenly, the muscles tightened in his ass, almost locking her face against him. Then he farted a short gusty force of intestinal gas into her face, literally blowing her face loose from his ass.
She immediately erupted in a series of coughing and gagging spasms because along with the blast had come bits and pieces of "ass-hole-curds-and-whey."
Her face was all scrunched up, and she was spitting bitterly.
Bob rolled over on one elbow, looked at her with somewhat of a shameful expression, and said; "-Sorry babe."
Inside, he was cracking up. Watching her face and waiting for her complete reaction. He was surprised when he concluded quickly that she seemed more embarrassed and disgusted, rather than angry or bitter about the deal.
If she buys this, he thought, then I've got her-right by the cunt hairs. And if I've got her, I've got the other two!
Perhaps it was her coughing attack which attracted Mr. Dewey's attention to the stock room. And maybe it was because he was one of those gung-ho motherfuckers who didn't feel he was doing his job unless he kept a constant check into every crack, nook, and corner under his jurisdiction.
In any case, he pushed the door open, stuck his head inside, and was about to retract it, when he suddenly shot his head back into the room. His eyes bugged out of his head, his mouth moved, but no words came out. He just stared incredulously at the lurid sight.
Two pair of pantyhose lay in a crumpled heap at one side of the room. Louise had kept hers on because she had gone to the ladies' room earlier and cut a hole in the crotch of hers. Now she sat with her legs spread wide apart, the hole in her hose agape, her cunt lips agape, her cunt hole agape, and with three of Bob's fingers still inserted up her. Not to mention the fact that her dress was rolled up around her hips.
Anne was still in her favorite position, decked out on the floor with Bob's semi-hard penis hanging half in, and half out of her hole. She was just shivering her way through an orgasm when the door opened.
She now lay there, her body stiff with fright, while Lorraine, still tasting the little curds of shit in her mouth, sat on her knees, her cunt away from Dewey, but all of her ass hanging out.
Dewey regained his voice, looked outside the door hoping desperately that no one else was aware of what was happening. Then, like he was in a drunken stupor, he entered the room, closed the door behind him and leaned against it.
He couldn't believe what he was witnessing.
"What the fuck is going on here?" he rasped, his voice locked in a confidential volume. "You-wha-shit!" He was still at a loss for words. His jaw worked furiously. You could see him straining at the seams of his self control.
"Well," said Bob, quoting a jest from one of his favorite girlie magazines; "you can't blame the man who invented the zipper for the undoing of so many girls, but he sure as hell speeded up the process."
The gnashing of Dewey's teeth sounded like concrete blocks rubbing together. He moved threateningly towards Bob, his fists clenched tightly, his knuckles white, and his face a deep purple. Purple indicating rage, Bob surmised.
"You cocksucking-" he started.
Bob jumped up. "Make another move and I'll break your prick in two pieces!" he shot back.
Oh wow! Lorraine thought to herself, a faint smile breaking across her face. This guy really had a set of nuts on him. They had to weigh ten pounds a piece. And that's a lot of balls.
Dewey stopped short, biting his tongue harshly between his teeth. His whole body trembled-like he was experiencing an epileptic seizure. "Get out!" he rasped. "Get the fucking hell out of here-"
"Let's go girls," Bob said quietly, almost too quietly.
Lorraine's heart skipped a beat. Somehow she felt, that the guy she was watching pull up his pants cautiously, was a walking time bomb. A bomb with a short fuse. She didn't want any trouble, but if there was any, she was sure that Bob would explode all over Dewey's ass and shoulders.
She wasn't frightened. Not with Bob, she wasn't. She wanted to laugh-it was hurting her inside. Dewey was a pig. She knew that. But to see him back down at the first sign of someone man enough to stand up to him-oh wow.
They walked out the door in single file. Lorraine was the last girl, so she slapped Dewey in the stomach with the back of her hand. "Seeya round fuck-face."
Dewey flinched as if he were going to give in to the urge to punch her face in. But Bob moved quickly up to him. Dewey flushed deep purple, but said nothing. Nor did he move a muscle.
"I'll be back on Friday to pick up our checks," Bob said flatly.
Dewey grumbled something and pushed his way past them.
There was little attention drawn to the three of them as they made their way out the administrative area. There were a couple of whispers, but nothing serious.
"Where the hell are they going?" one of the old ladies asked the woman sitting across from her.
"I don't know," her companion mused, as if trying to solve the riddle of the world. "I really don't know."
The trio continued walking, passing the statistical typist section, past the comp operators, the receiving desk, the accounting department, and then into the lobby.
Meanwhile, Dewey was back at his desk fuming mad. He hadn't said a word to anyone about the three people he had just fired. Nor had he made or taken any steps toward filling out the necessary paper work.
The fucking bastard, he thought. I should have hit him. I should have knocked his teeth out. Fucked up his nose. I should have kicked his ass. Embarrassing me in front of those girls. Girls? Bitches! That's what they are.
I figured Lorraine and that other girl fucked. But Louise. She's always so quiet. And he had his fingers all in her cunt. I could see it dripping even from where I was standing.
Shit, she looked good. Dewey groaned softly to himself, feeling the budding of a gigantic hard-on. He put his hands to his crotch and squeezed his penis tightly. He gazed around the office slyly.
His office was similar to Bob's, except that he was surrounded completely with partition on the lower half of the walls, and glass on the upper portions.
No one was paying any attention. Good. He leaned back, and with skillful dexterity, released his cock from the prison of his shorts.
And that little bitch, Lorraine, he thought. Kneeling there with her ass out, and none of them even tried to cover themselves. They simply let me look. As he was thinking this, his favorite secretary got up from her desk and went over to the file cabinet across from Dewey's window. She bent over, revealing a stimulating portion of her thighs and legs.
Oh shit, Dewey cursed to himself, his eyes glued hotly to the creamy texture of her legs and thighs. He couldn't help himself, so he commenced jerking right behind his big expensive, cedar wood desk.
Bob and the girls were just about to walk out of the lobby and into the street when he stopped.
"What's the matter?" Anne asked, clasping his arm tightly, reacting from the expression on his face, and suddenly afraid.
"It's nothing really," he answered. The other two girls were now looking at him also. "Don't get up tight. I was just trying to make up my mind."
Their faces registered the question; make up your mind about what?
"I'm going back up there," he said as a matter of declaration. "But I'm trying to make up my mind whether to kick his ass, or just give him a good cursing out."
"Look, you were great up there, but let's not dig up more trouble. I think I speak for all of us when I say that the reason none of us have said anything so far is because we're with you, baby. You're calling the shots. And if you don't want that, then we'll each go our separate way."
They were each smiling in approval of Anne's words.
"I'm calling the shots?" he asked, like he was giving them their last chance to change their minds. But they all nodded their heads yes.
"Then come with me!" he instructed, taking hold of Lorraine's arm. "We'll be back shortly, wait for us." Anne pouted a little. He winked at her, but didn't smile. Lorraine took his arm and together, he and she walked back towards the elevator.
He glanced at Lorraine out the corner of his eye. No hint as to what she was thinking. She said nothing, almost matching him stride for stride. And Bob smiled to himself. Nothing in the world like complete, absolute, blind obedience, he thought.
Dewey was just about to shoot his load into his pocket handkerchief, when he whirled around and saw Bob and Lorraine standing there looking at him.
A smile spread across Bob's face and threatened to crack the corners of his mouth. Lorraine stood there, her eyes darting from Dewey's cock in his hand, to Bob's face.
"Did I hear you say something about us being fired?" Bob said sarcastically.
Dewey tried desperately to mask the fear that was welling in his throat. He was trying to evaluate his position as quickly as possible. Searching for a loophole. Anything!
Nothing. His face broke out in a cold sweat.
"Lorraine. Go back and tell the girls they still have a job." Bob ordered.
"You can't do that," Dewey whispered harshly, forgetting himself and half standing before he realized his goober was still hanging out of his pants.
"Don't move!" Bob moved forward threateningly. "One move, and I'll call your assistant in here and let you explain to him what your prick is doing hanging out."
Dewey slumped in his chair, his anger rekindled. He was twice as bitter as before. If that were at all possible.
"Go get the girls, Lorraine," Bob repeated. No response. He turned. She was gone, convinced that he had meant it the first time. Convinced that he knew what he was doing. Yes, Bob thought, nothing like blind obedience.
A smile played across his face. "To use your own words, during that last bullshit meeting you had with us, your employees, 'fair is fair.' So, I won't tell on you, if you won't tell on me," Bob smiled, knowing how ridiculous his statement sounded, while at the same time knowing Dewey could not miss the threat he implied.
"What if I agree to this?" Dewey mopped his brow. "How do I know you won't break your word?"
"You're clutching at straws. Do we stay or don't we?"
Dewey slumped forward on his desk, his head down low. "Done!" he muttered.
"Then you can stuff your prick back in your pants."
Brock Harris looked up from the papers on his desk and absently gazed around the office. His eyes came to focus on Bob who stood calmly against the wall as he waited for the girls.
I wonder what "that" was all about, Brock mused. He wanted to go in the office and ask Dewey about it, but he knew he wouldn't. He was only a flunky here, sitting behind the desk and sporting the title of Assistant Manager of the Administrative Department.
My job, he thought, is to simply bear witness to, and observe the goings on around here, and then to keep my fuckin' mouth shut. like when he wants someone fired. I'm supposed to go tell them to get the hell out while he stays home that day.
Anne, Louise and Lorraine were now coming. They walked up to Bob who greeted them calmly. He said something to them that Brook couldn't catch, then they all turned and went to the rear of the office where their desks were located.
I'd sure like to know what the hell went down in that office, Brock thought. And too, what the connection is between that new guy
Bob and the three broads.
Concluding nothing more intelligible than the fact that all three girls had sweet looking asses, and that he would gladly fuck either or all three of them at the drop of a hat, Brock went back to work, but stored the questionable incident in the back of his head.
He'd find out sooner or later what was going on. He usually did!
As the train pulled into the station Mona Friedman scanned the cars for lone passengers. Nothing juicy, she thought as the train screeched to a halt and she got on, then proceeded walking from one car to another. Looking. Looking for someone to show herself to.
Ah, there was someone-nice looking too. She could see the tight bulge of his crotch even as she came through the car. She pictured f his jockey shorts jam packed with all that cock and balls, and picked her seat.
There were only a few people on the car, and the seat she picked afforded no one a view of her except maybe, her head and shoulders.
Mona was wearing one of those light-weight acetate pull-over jackets which came down over her thighs like the length of a micro-mini skirt. Thus, when she crossed her legs, there was more than just a "Little" peek at the shadowed apex of her thighs.
No panties? the guy's eyes bulged open.
Nona thrilled to the expression on his face.
Casually she glanced around the car again to make sure no one else could see what she was about to do.
No one else could!
She uncrossed her legs. The fellow's eyes glowed with hot flashes. Slowly Mona began to raise one leg so that her foot was propped up on the seat in which she sat. Then she began to part her thighs, and her eyes were glued to the bulge at the crotch of his pants which was quickly growing larger and larger.
Sensually, she began to rub her hand up and down the length of her thigh, at the same time parting her thighs wider and wider.
He was still looking as she slowly slid her hand down along the inner softness of her cocked up thigh until her fingers were sliding into the glade of pubic hair. Then with one finger, she slid her hand along the furrowed slit of her sex.
She could see the fellow's breathing coming more rapidly, and she knew he was tremendously excited. She took notice that the train was just pulling out of another station. So she played with herself lightly, never actually sticking her finger into the slot itself, but merely rubbing it back and forth along the groove between her fat cunt lips.
Unconsciously, the good looking chap began to rub his crotch, unmistakingly convincing Mona that she was turning him on to no end.
His eyes were glued to her hot spot, and the expression on his face excited her still more.
She hadn't really planned to come, but merely to tease him, or anyone she found for that matter. But the way he was looking-his handsome face, the intense heat in his eyes, and the way he was rubbing the hardness between his legs-was ungluing her at the hinges.
That was a fact, because she could feel the glue seeping between her fingers. So now, she rested one finger lightly against her clit.
The sensation was titillating. She had to rub it lightly. She knew she could come right there-right in front of his eyes. But not yet. The time wasn't right.
As if testing her, the fellow began to slowly unzip the fly of his pants. Now her eyes moved to his pants. The hell with his face-she was about to get a "real" treat.
He saw that she wasn't going to move or give him away, so he completed the operation. And out it popped. One big throbbing hard-on, made to order-Mona's answer to Swiss blue cheese.
Now was the time. The train would soon be pulling into the station. Mona began to concentrate frictioning herself on the cut, and at the same time the fellow masturbated himself. That was it.
The train was beginning to slow down.
"Come on, Martha," Brock Harris whispered to his wife, as he slid his hand up and down the length of one of her creamy thighs.
"I'm tired, honey," she whined pitifully.
"I'm tired too, honey, but hell. All I want is a little bit."
His pretty but ice-berg of a wife said nothing.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, getting just a little frantic. "Do you want me to suck your pussy? Do you want me to eat your ass out. I will you know, if that's what it takes to turn you on. I'm sure you wouldn't want to suck my dick, but you can if you wish. Anything! Just name it right now, and I'll do it for you or to you. Whatever you wish. Honey? Honey?"
She wasn't listening.
"All right, then, dammit. Fuck you!"
"Where are you going," she cried, as she felt him roll off the side of the bed and head towards his clothes which he had hurriedly thrown across the floor in his haste to get some pussy this night.
"I'm going to get some pussy!" he snapped. "And she won't turn her back on me either!"
"Brock-Brock, please. Try to understand. Brock?"
She heard the door to the apartment slam shut and she knew he was gone.
Out on the street, Brock headed for the drugstore on the corner. It stayed open all night.
Calculating each movement, Mona began to unbutton the front of her little jacket-one button at a time, starting from the bottom up.
The handsome looking fellow looked like his eyes were going to fall right out of his head, as he followed the movement of her fingers, continually unbuttoning the jacket. And as each button popped loose, more and more of her full, ripe body was exposed.
The man was jacking himself faster, as if each button on her jacket represented a faster gear. So that as she popped the third button, he was pulling himself ferociously. And as the forth and fifth buttons popped, the movement of his hand was unto the-likeness of a blur.
As the train pulled into the station, Mona let the last button pop free, her lithe nude body completely exposed to the stranger's hot gaze. The brakes screeched as the train pulled to a stop. Too bad, she thought. She had hoped to see the stranger spread his joy before she got off. But he hadn't yet come.
She smiled crazily to herself, giving him his last look at her delicious flesh. And as she stepped from the train, she quickly closed her short, little waist coat, not wishing to be caught in such a condition by anyone save the chosen few-or was it "many." She shrugged. She had done this before. And who kept count anyway?
For a moment, her mind rambled on. It was true-she "was" freaky. And though her tendency to exhibit herself on frequent occasions filled her with joyful tingles of perverse satisfaction, she was still an incomplete woman.
She had not yet had a man. True! She wanted one, and wanted one badly. And she'd be good to him-whoever he might happen to be. But where the hell was he? In spite of the thrills and excitement of doing something so far away from normal sexual satisfaction, she wanted to stop. And she was convinced she would gladly trade the present thrills of exposing herself in public for a good steady supply of normal sex.
Up till now the pattern had been the same-work, home-work, home-work, home. Well, maybe something would turn up at this new job she would be starting in a couple of weeks.
She had already given her present employer two weeks notice.
Yes, she thought, maybe something "will" come out of the change in pace. And if it doesn't, then maybe I'll at least find another part of town to be freaky in.
She blinked as she walked into the sunlight, taking her time about walking home. So what, if she had gotten off the train two stops from home. The walk would do her good. It would give her a little more time to think, and a little more time to shake the loneliness she hid within.