Chapter 6
Naturally a woman with the almost primitive sexual cravings that Mrs. Dorothy Wainright the third had wouldn't let the bonanza that she had discovered in the form of George Hammond slip from her grasp. She hired him as a part time gardener; that is on the face of it she did but of course George did very little gardening.
She wouldn't even let her chauffeur pick him up after school, going instead herself in order to get him so worked up during the hour's drive to her estate by feverish ministrations of his penis that he could hardly wait to get her into the privacy of her bedroom when they arrived.
After four months George reached his seventeenth birthday and he was able to acquire his driver's license. That opened up an entirely new world to her, enabling her to have him drive on the return trip. Now she was able to concentrate entirely on arousing him to the pitch that she wanted, spending most of the time on her knees teasing his noble cock with her lush lips.
She discovered the craving for leather gloves that Olga had instilled in him and the local cleaner couldn't understand why there were always four or five pairs of black kid gloves in his shop every week from the Wainright's.
When he graduated from High School she gave him a full time job, full time that is with her lascivious cravings and he moved into a small apartment over the garage. Now he was at her beck and call constantly and he wouldn't have had it any other way, for although he always started off their numerous soirees with a ruthless beating, he in fact was her slave, a slave to her fantastic body, her mammoth bust. It had been his fortune that his first two sexual experiences has been with women who possessed abnormally large breasts; first Olga with her great orbs, then the gorgeous socialite with her even more enormous, pendant melons. This did something to his psyche that was to stick with him the rest of his life, a craving for women with huge breasts. The short experience with Olga would not have that much effect on him, but the long, drawn out relationship with Mrs. Wainright certainly did.
He grew to worship her immense melons so that during the periods when her husband was home, he would almost go out of his mind with longing for them.
One day while she was propped up on her hands above him, her giant orbs hanging down at his disposal, he mouthing first one great nipple then the other as he squeezed and tortured the pliable flesh, he muttered, "Oh I love your breasts so ... I ... I go crazy when Mr. Wainright is home and I see them bouncing around in your dress and I can't kiss them, or even touch them ... and at night it's even worse, I hardly sleep a wink."
"Why baby ... I knew you loved my breasts, but I didn't know how much so, we'll have to do something about that ... oh that's it, bite my nipple, I go wild when you do that. They're sore all day long from your bites but I love the feeling, it seems to bring me closer to you if you aren't there, just knowing that you inflicted the soreness ... I think I know what might partially solve your problem darling-g. Wait here, I'll be back in a moment."
She went to her closet for a negligee and George was thrilled at the vision of her black nyloned legs shimmering in the afternoon sunlight that streamed through the huge French doors, her great, ham-like buttocks grinding together causing the shirred garter straps to cut deep into their softness as they pulled the stockings taut.
She left the bedroom enveloped in a diaphanous black negligee, returning shortly with a Polaroid camera.
"How would you like to have some photographs of the goodies you love so much when you're not able to have the real thing?" she giggled. "It might be nice to relieve yourself while you look at them."
"Oh would you?" George exclaimed excitedly. "Oh I'd LOVE that."
"Of course I will lover boy ... you ought to know by now that I'll do anything for you, although it does seem a terrible waste of your passions," she said wistfully.
George eagerly took the camera and he took dozens of photos of her great melons from every conceivable angle. She first took the precaution to comb her long, flaming red hair down over her face so that she couldn't be identified, but anyone residing anywhere within a ten mile radius would be able to tell that the enormous orbs that enveloped everything above her navel belonged to Mrs. Dorothy Wainright the third.
"If you're especially good to me this afternoon precious," she moaned as he finished taking the pictures and glued his lips once again to a swollen appendage. "I might let you take some pictures of the two of us together ... ou-u-u that's it, take as much as you can into your mouth ... the camera has a timing device on it."
"Oh that would be wonderful."
"Just lie on your back and spread your legs and I'll show you how it works," she said as she took the camera and placed it on the bed between his legs, aiming it at his erect cock, she set the timing device and then climbed quickly onto the bed above him, spreading her silken legs and lowering her great buttocks. The camera clicked when her gaping cunt was scant inches from his fiery knob and the two of them eagerly awaited the results.
"You know baby," she giggled as they waited the required time before ripping the picture from the camera. "I miss that huge cock of yours just as much as you miss my breasts. I want some pictures of him too."
The picture was incredible. It showed in full color a clear view of his erect prick projecting upwards from its black mesh nest, his big hairy balls resting on the sheets. There was an exciting foreshortened view of her shapely legs in their drum-tight covering of black nylon, with her flaming red bush and its yawning cunt between.
"Oh it's unbelievable," she screamed delightedly. "I must have one like that too."
So they repeated the pose and now they both had one; then they proceeded to take many more. Somewhere along the line the camera was forgotten as their mutual insatiable lust for one another took over. As always with them, nature overcame every obstacle.
Her solution proved to be a good one. Every night that George couldn't see his fabulous mistress, he would remove the pictures from their hiding place inside the loudspeaker section of his TV set. He had removed all of the screws but one from the frame that held the fabric over the speaker. All he had to do then was to remove the one screw and he had his pictures. As he turned the pictures over slowly, one by one, he would jerk his huge cock with his other hand. This was a poor substitute for the real thing, but it did solve the problem.
"Darling-g," she whispered to him one day as they lay in embrace in her bed. "I have something to confess to you."
"Confess? ... what do you mean?"
"Well I haven't told you before because I was afraid you might think of me ... well ... as an old woman."
"If you're an old woman you're the most beautiful one that ever lived," he giggled as he paid homage to an immense melon with his lips for the millionth time.
"No ... seriously baby ... I've never discussed age with you because although I'm considered young by adults, anyone of your age might consider me old."
"Oh come on that's ridiculous. I've always known that you're years older than I am but that doesn't make any difference."
"Yes ... but you don't know how many years ... I ... I have a daughter."
"So?"
"Not a little daughter ... a grown one."
"You're joking, you couldn't have."
"Oh yes I do. She's been at finish school but she's coming home for Christmas vacation ... I was very young when I had her," she added fearfully. "She's sixteen."
George was intrigued by the idea that the social Queen had a daughter only slightly younger than he. He wondered if she had inherited any of her mother's physical attributes, her masochistic leanings. It was with a great sense of anticipation that he awaited the day of her arrival.
When the day finally arrived and he heard the chauffeur gun the motor of the Caddy in the garage below him as he prepared to go to the airport to pick her up, he decided to stay in his room so that he could have a view of her when they returned.
An hour or so later George heard the crunch of the Caddie's big tires on the long gravel driveway and he ran to the window to see. Oddly, the chauffeur didn't stop the car in front of the steps that led to the mansion, instead he kept right on driving towards the garage and entered it, but not before George could see the young girl sitting beside him in the front seat. He caught a glimpse of a truly lovely face, topped with a sky-high, bouffant blond hairdo that was the current style with teen-agers.
George and Harry Johnson, the chauffeur, did not get along very well together. Harry, as with all the other servants, envied the fact that George didn't seem to ever do any work. He had been hired as an assistant to the head gardener, yet the head gardener did all of the landscaping and there was lots of it on such a tremendous estate. They each went their separate ways and scarcely spoke to one another.
The flooring in George's apartment was laid over the joists without any sub flooring so that he was able to hear anything that went on in the garage below. Over the sound of his radio George hear angry talk down below, so he hurried to turn it off.
"Get your rough old hands off my thigh, you'll ruin my new nylons" a girlish voice snapped.
"But Miss Carol, you didn't mind last summer ... you seemed to like it," Harry whined.
"I didn't wear nylons in the summer ... anyway, just because I let you feel my legs then, doesn't give you license to do so now," she said acidly.
"You let me touch a HELL of a lot more than your legs girlie, you let me stick my fact cock in that cunt of yours," Harry exclaimed crudely, obviously angered over an unexpected change in her attitude towards him."
"Why Harry, you old sun of a gun," George mused.
"THAT was before my mother sent me to finishing school Harry," she shouted. "I've learned that a girl of my station in life should never have anything to do with anyone in yours ... anyway, I like BIG men."
"Ain't I big enough? ... I'm six feet three."
"I don't mean in height doll," she snapped as George heard the sound of a door slamming, followed by the sound of stiletto heels clicking on the garage's cement flooring. "That isn't where it counts."
George could hardly suppress his laughter as he peered out of the window and saw the figure of a hipsy-tailsy-busty blond as she emerged from the garage door beneath. There was no doubt about it she was breathtaking. Not in the overpowering way that her mother was, she wasn't even a miniature addition. Her legs and torso were slim as a reed, but her lush buttocks were deliciously rounded as they jiggled inside her tight miniskirt. Her unbrassiered breasts were uptilted youthfully, tapering sharply into twin points that seemed about to spear right through her tight sweater as they jounced wildly with the rapid movement of her walk to the house. Her long legs were excitingly clad in nylons of a black lace pattern and her black pumps stilt-heeled.
"WOW what a dish," George thought. "Brother would I love to get into her pants, but the chances sure are small with her class consciousness."
The fact was that George was beginning to get a bit tired of having sex with just one woman. It wasn't that she didn't satisfy his every need. He knew that no woman would ever be able to match her in that department. It was just that he had such a feeling of confidence in his sexual wares that he wanted to have the satisfaction of exhibiting them to other women. His constant beatings of the socialite had developed a dominating attitude in him that needed to have women, many women, groveling at his feet. This sexy dish presented a problem, but he had the self-confidence to think that he was capable of overcoming any problem if he put his mind to it.
The remark that she had made about the fact that she liked big men. Well that was his ace in the hole and he would have to work on that angle. He knew that the Wainright's would be occupied with holiday parties for some time to come, so that would give him a little freedom of action to work out a plan.
He started by going to town and buying the tightest pair of chino pants that he could possibly fit into. They fit him like a second skin and it would take a blind person to miss the great lump of his cock and balls at his crotch.
That night Harry drove the Wainright's off to another party and George decided that this was his chance. He slipped into his chinos and pulled on a thin turtle neck sweater that showed off his V shaped torso beautifully. As an afterthought he rolled up the sleeves to his armpits so that his bulging biceps and rippling forearm muscles showed to advantage. He had noticed that Carol took the Wainright's collie for a walk every night, so he stayed glued to the window awaiting his opportunity. Just the thought of that bumptious creature in his arms made his cock expand and strain at the thin cotton fabric, outlining its every nook and cranny. The usual time for her walk came and went as gloom began to settle over him. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Perhaps it was best that it didn't anyway. There was always the threat of discovery, or Carol might talk and that would be disastrous, undoubtedly ruining the softest job that he would ever have.
Then suddenly he saw her running down the steps with the big collie on the lead. He dashed down the steps and ran to the heated green house. He went inside and cut an armload of flowers and made his way out on the lawn. He made his way casually up to the house. If his timing was right he would just about meet her at the front door as she returned. His timing was perfect. As he put his foot on one end of the long marble stairs, he could just make her out doing the same at the other end. As they approached one another the collie barked furiously.
"Oh come on Shep ... you know your old friend George," he called.
"Oh so you're George," Carol said with obvious disinterest as they came up to one another by the huge front doors. "Mother said that she had hired a boy to help Mr. Harris."
"Yes it is Miss Carol, I've been looking forward to meeting you," George said eagerly.
"Oh have you really," she said icily, tilting her nose up, not even looking at him. "Do you always get this familiar with the people that you work for?"
"Not unless they want me to be," he responded with chagrin. "I took the liberty of cutting some flowers for the house."
"Just don't try to take any liberties with me sonny," she snapped. "You may bring them in if you like."
George's desires were rising in leaps and bounds for this seemingly unattainable creature as he watched her buttocks working against her tight mini-skirt and her pointed breasts bobbing about in her ever-present tight sweater. He was rising down below too and he found it awkward walking as he followed her into the house. As they entered the brilliantly lit hallway, Shep made matters worse by jamming his snout there, getting the scent of the juices that were beginning to flow.
"SHEP ... you stop that you naughty ... " her words froze in her throat as she yanked the dog back and saw where his snout had been. "Good GRACIOUS ... did ... did Shep do that ... did he hurt you?"
"Er ... yes ... he did nip me through my pants ... I seem to be all swollen," George said shakily, grasping at the unexpected opportunity.
"Good heavens, I don't know what came over him, he's never nipped anyone before ... do you think it ... er ... he ...?" she stammered, unable to find the right word. "Do you think you'll need a band-aid?"
"Gee I might Miss Carol ... it hurts something fierce," George said, trying desperately to hide his elation over the beautiful spot he had her in.
"Shep you've been a BAD dog," she screamed, unhooking his collar with the lead still attached and whipping him cruelly several times with the lead.
She was obviously very worried. Shep was her dog and was undoubtedly more concerned over what her parents might do about the dog than she was over George's condition.
"Oh please don't hit him Miss Carol, I must have frightened him, coming up on him in the dark the way I did," George exclaimed, fearful now that all would be lost if she discovered that he wasn't nipped at all.
Then he realized what he must do. He put his hand in his pocket and gritted his teeth as he dug three of his fingernails deep into his hard prick. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to show a mark.
"Are ... are you certain that his bite made you swell up like that," she stammered, her eyes glued to the shape of his cock almost bursting the seams of his chinos, as though looking for signs of blood. "I mean ... did it ever happen to you before?"
"Well it did once, I was hit there by a baseball and it swelled up, but nothing like this."
"We ... we're going to have to look at you, you won't be embarrassed, will you?"
"Gee ... no one has ever ... I mean ... oh shucks I guess we have to."
"Would you feel better about it if I did it for you?"
"Y-yes I think that I would."
She leaned down and with fingers that trembled like a leaf in the wind she managed to get his zipper down. Then as though she were reaching into a fuse box to see if a wire was alive or not, she reached into his fly and snaked her cool, slender fingers around his massive penis, cupping it in her palm and bringing it out into the light. She gasped at the size of the pulsating red knob that lay in the heel of her palm with nature's oil dribbling from the cunt shaped slit. Three thin red slashes were plainly evident on his foot long shaft.
"Oh what a relief," she exclaimed. "It isn't bad at all. I don't even think we need bother with a band-aid, do you?"
"Naw ... he's O.K."
"Do you still hurt?"
"Not as much as before."
"Well that's good," she said, releasing his immense cock, but not putting it back in his trousers.
Then she did a strange thing. A beautiful smile came over her face as she picked up the dog's lead with the collar attached and before George knew what was happening she attached the collar around his neck.
"Wh ... what's that for?" he stammered.
"Oh you'll see," she purred as she began to lead him toward a table.
When she got to the table she turned and slid her delightful rump onto its shiny surface. "If I let go of the lead for a moment, do you promise that you won't run away doggie?" she giggled.
"Yes I promise," George said, unable to fathom what was going on. "But don't you think I should put him back in my trousers?"
"No I'd prefer that he stay where he is for the moment," she cooed, as before his startled eyes she began to tug her sweater over her head. She did it slowly, obviously for his benefit. The shirred lower edge of the sweater raised slowly upwards, revealing her bare midriff, her dimpled tummy and then her amazingly pointed breasts capped with apricot shaded nipples at least an inch in length, tapering into pebbly points.
Even before she had the sweater over her head she was drawing him to her. "If you see anything you'd like to lick doggie, be my guest," she said wickedly, as the sweater fell to the carpet.
"Miss C-Carol ... wh-what are you doing?" George gasped as she drew his head closer and closer to her pointed melons.
"I'm just a young girl playing with her doggie," she purred. "Lick me Doggie."
Still holding the lead, she drew him hypnotically towards one of her elongated nipples, a tumult of hot passion boiling through his veins. The pointed dome of flesh was soft to his now straining lips as his nose pressed deep into the tender soft cushion. He drew the sausage-like nipple into his hot mouth for a moment as she whimpered, pulling harder on the lead. He got her message and opening his mouth as wide as he could he filled it with as much as he could of her female flesh.
"Now lick it GOOD-D doggie", she wailed as she began to scissor her silken knees open and closed on the table top, still drawing him deeper into the softness of her breast till he could hardly breathe.
"Oh honey," she moaned in a throaty voice that was almost as sensual and mature as her mother's. "I dig that the MOST ... that's it, chew it up ... don't forget the other one ... ah-h-h-h."
He was chewing on the other one now, stabbing and laving the elongated nipple with the point of his tongue.
"Can I let go of the lead now, little doggie? ... somehow I don't think that you'll run away," she moaned.
George nodded affirmatively as he now had his two big hands on both sides of her pointed hillock in the manner that a football center holds the ball, squeezing it into further elongation so that he could draw more and more of her soft hot flesh into his eager mouth.
She twisted on the table and worked at the catches to her skirt, loosening it, then raising first one curvaceous buttock then the other she was able to slip it off. George released her breast and pulled back, gasping at the sensual picture she presented, the youthful vitality of her near-perfect figure enhanced by the black lace hose, held up by wispy white lace garters that had white mink pom-poms on their sides.
Those stockings, those slim white thighs, those pointed melons capped with such amazingly long nipples ... they screamed of forbidden sex and exotic vices.
Tiny little black panties filled to the brim with her cunt flesh caressed her loins. She smiled as she saw that his gaze was centered on them. She spread her legs wantonlv, wiggling her rounded rump on the shiny table top with a resultant squeaking sound.
"What fascinates you so down there little doggie," she purred, "You're licking your chops, does it look good enough to eat?"
George nodded mutely as she began to pull the lead downward, his face sliding over her vibrant young body.
"Keep licking me doggie," she commanded, slashing George along the side of his face with the chain lead.
His stroking tongue worked its way over the indentation of her chest cavity, then dipped into her navel, causing her to whimper and jerk convulsively on the table.
"Take my panties off doggie," she whispered excitedly.
George hooked his fingers into the wispy bit of black nylon and once again she slashed his face with the lead, harder this time.
"Not with your paws doggie ... you could never do it with your paws, a doggie uses his teeth," she giggled.
"WHAT?" George exclaimed in disbelief.
"Why you're as untrained as a little puppy," she scolded, lacerating his face once again with the lead. "Do as your mistress says."
George pressed his face into her soft little belly and grasped the elastic top edge of her panties in his front teeth. The spine-tingling scent of her nylon cupped cunt permeated his nostrils as he dragged the tiny panties down over her thighs. When they got to her knees he released them and they slid down her hanging legs and she kicked them from her stiletto heeled feet.
"Come and get your meal doggie," she moaned, spreading her legs once again and twisting her rump about expectantly as she drew him towards the splayed open lips of her hot cunt. The warmth of his panting breath caressed Carol's black lace encased thighs as she directed his tormenting mouth upwards by the lead. She shivered with expectancy as she awaited the first vital contact.
And then he was there. Her body leaped forwards on the desk to receive the spearing tongue, then the clinging mouth. Delightful shivers danced along her spine to explode in her brain. She felt his rough hands sliding over her naked hips and tighten in the soft flesh of her rounded buttocks as his lustful mouth paid homage to the pink, palpitate cunt that was wet and juicy of its own delicious liquor. He drew a sizable amount of slippery inner cunt flesh between his ravenous lips and nibbled on it.
Uncontrollably her hips began to squirm about as he slid a hand between her wide stretched buttocks and jammed a thick finger into the tiny puckered anus and felt it clench and unclench on his knuckle.
"FUCK me doggie," she screamed, pushing him away and sliding off of the desk. "Give me that precious fat cock of yours NOW!!"
George stared in disbelief as she got down on her knees and thrust her naked rump high in the air like a bitch in heat. George was swept along by the frenzied current of Carol's craving, as he hunched above her, staring down at the taut, quivering globes of her uptilted buttocks, her gaping twat quivering with longing for his fat cock.
"SCREW IT ... SCREW IT ... SCREW IT," she screamed, completely out of control now.
She reached behind her, groping wildly and found his fevered prong, steering it to his port of call. He lunged and for a brief moment there was resistance, then he felt himself slide into hot tightness, the great blunt head tearing its way through the delicate tissues.
She screamed and raised her buttocks even higher to meet him. He let his full weight rest on her back as he reached around her rib-cage from both sides and captured her dangling melons in his calloused hands, rotating the inch long appendages viciously between his fingers.
She ground her hips seductively and an intoxicating friction sent electric charges piercing through his nerve system.
"Now you're there doggie, FUCK IT ... FUCK IT HARD," she wailed ... I want all of your monster cock in my ass ... you must be a Saint Bernard."
Her lewd words drove George to new heights of passion, galvanizing him into violent action. Animal-like growls escaped his bared teeth as he rutted away at her, not like a human, but like a giant mastiff fucking a terrier in heat.
As he lashed away at her, her soft buttocks acted as cushions for his swinging balls as they smacked into them repeatedly, bouncing them back for the next onslaught. From her frantic screams he knew that he was hurting her, but she took it all and bagged for more, tilting her rear even higher. She seemed to have incredible muscular control as she clung to his exquisitely sensitive cock with a searing grip.
The little seductress wriggled her succulent, greedy hips from side to side 'til he felt as though his prick might break in two, delicious charges of pain jarring his nervous system. Her rear moved like a whirlwind. She was youthful, a go-go dancer on a spit of long hard cock, with the violent movements that only a young go-go dancer can manage. An older woman's spine would have snapped in ten places if she had tried to emulate her, such were the violence of her movements as she worked her skewered ass on his monstrous prick.
She was adorable yet base, vital yet depraved; so completely wanton that her mother by comparison seemed like a wooden statue. Even in his delirium George noticed the twin half-moons of her ass tense against his hairy balls and he knew that she was about to come. He wasn't that close to spewing out his hot sperm and fear of being left high and dry on her ass drove him on with maniacal fury as he pistoned his fat penis deep into her with unbelievable rapidity.
The sharp tab to the zipper on his trousers and the zipper itself cut into her flailing buttocks like a knife into warm butter, but she didn't mind, she loved the excruciating pleasure-pain. She even ground her ass against them to increase the sensation.
"Oh you wonderful Saint Bernard you ... no man has a cock so huge as yours," she wailed as she beat her clenched fists on the rug. "I feels like the thick trunk of an elephant is in my ass hole."
"Oh you like Georgie's big cock do you?" he gasped pridefully. Even in his frantic excitement George was delicious over the fact that what he had always thought was true: his was a cock to be envied by men and craved by women.
He rutted into her ass like a depraved bull until he felt his great balls tighten in preparation for the blastoff, followed by the incomparable sensation as they sent his hot, sticky sperm soaring up the great length of his shaft to spurt with incredible force deep into her ass.
"Oh I want it. I WANT IT," the frantic girl screamed, as she pulled away, sperm continuing to spurt from his prong to land in sticky mounds on the deep piled rug. She crawled on her silken knees toward the successive shots of white liquid and opened her mouth wide to receive it. The first shot hit her on the cheek with a splat, but she captured the next and the next and the next; crawling towards him as the distance shortened.
Finally George was juiceless and she wiped the sperm from her cheek with a forefinger and sucked it off as though it were a lollipop.
"You're a fraud you know," she giggled as she took a compact from her purse and applied some fresh lipstick to her lips.
"W-what do you mean?" he stammered, wondering how in the world she knew.
"Do you think that I'm so stupid that I can't tell the difference between the marks left by a doggie's teeth and those left by a boy's fingernails?"