Chapter 1
He was standing over her now, a bigger man than Mabel had realized. His bulk blocked out the light coming from the open door to the office, but she could see every line of his body clearly. He wasn't wearing a shirt, the thick hair curling over the straps of his undershirt, a black patch reaching up to the line on his throat where he stopped the razor when shaving. And now he smiled again as he slowly undid his belt and then his pants, kicking off his shoes before letting his pants fall to the floor. He stepped out of them, and moved closer to the girl on the couch.
Oh, Christ, no! Mabel shivered, shaking her head and sending the red curls tumbling. She knew now that this time she had gone too far with her teasing. He's really going to do it! He's going to stick his cock into me, all the way into me, and fuck me!
"Okay, girlie." His hands were on his hips, and he humped his groin toward her face, laughing. She couldn't look away from him, had to stare straight up into his eyes. "You wanted to play, I'll give you something really juicy to play with. You've been making eyes at me, trying to see my cock, since the day you first walked in here. Now take off my shorts and get your eyes really full."
"No! Please . . . "
But inside her head she was thinking other words. Yes, yes! Please-do it to me! Make me do everything you want. Christ, yes, I want to see your cock. I want to see what makes you a man. And I want you to fuck me, I want you to shove your cock in my cunt and really fuck me! Make me feel you-fuck the shit out of me!
Her tongue seemed too dry, and her lips wanted to open so those words would come rushing out. But she couldn't speak them, say them so that he would hear. Fuck me, damn it! I want it, I need it, I have to have it! Even as her thoughts were running wild with desire she cowered back into the corner of the couch, hoping that he wouldn't know her cunt was opening hungrily.
He wouldn't be put off by her coy movements. "Come on, Mabel-stop fuckin' around! Get to it!" He reached down and grabbed her hand, bringing it up to slam against his flat stomach, her fingers hooked into the waistband of his jockey shorts.
Then he laughed. "What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen a real cock before? I suppose those kids you run around with don't know what to do with their cocks-the little boys probably still pee in their diapers. But you've got your chance with a man now! So let's see just what you can do for me."
He inhaled, filling his barrel chest with air and flexing his shoulders back so that his musculature stood out strong before her eyes. He let a bit of air out, rippling the muscles in his arms and chest, and at the same time his cock stirred with his shorts. Her eyes caught the movement and went to it, arrested.
Christ, yes! Let me see your cock! His pubic hair was as thick and black as that on his upper body, and a number of stray hairs and even a curl or two were showing around the leg band of his shorts. Mabel moved forward, the tip of her tongue darting over her dry lips, unable to take her eyes from the stirring movements of the cock as it moved out, lengthening, riding up the almost-transparent fabric of the underpants until it was at its fullest attention.
Suddenly he flexed his ass again, humping forward, and she felt the passion-fevered head touch the side of her finger. She jerked, and in the movement pulled his shorts down far enough to let his cock escape. Now she was staring straight on it, the hole in the head like a tiny vacant eye staring back at her. The head was a deep red mushroom, hiding the stem until he made his cock jump for her; then she could clearly see the heavy veins that knotted the underside of the shaft.
Then her eyes were caught by the wrinkled sac of his testicles, drawn up tight now against his growing passion. In every place his cock seemed much redder than the skin on his body. She brought up her other hand, letting the tips of her fingers approach cautiously, then stroked the length of his cock. A droplet of clear fluid welled out of the hole in the tip, and at the same instant she was aware that her crotch was damp with her own moisture.
"You like that, huh?"
His words startled her, so intent on studying his cock had she been. Now she shivered, hunching her shoulders forward so that her tits sagged down.
Do I really like this? Now she was aware of the strong odor coming from his genitals, more than the stink of sweat. The odor was acrid, musky, and should have been repugnant -but rather than disgusted, she was fascinated. Her tongue licked her lips again, then darted out a little farther, as though begging for the chance to touch that hole in the head of his cock.
Yes! She shuddered, then realized that she was slowly working the shorts down over his hips, the fabric bunching in her hands until the shorts were at his ankles and the hair on top of her head was brushing against the bottom of his cock and against his balls. His flesh seemed to burn against her as he lifted his feet for her to completely remove the garment, and suddenly she was off the couch and on her knees, her face pressed against his thigh, lips touching the wrinkles on the side of his other knee.
"Okay, baby." His hands went to her head, the fingers digging into her hair and forcing her to look up at him. Tears stung the corners of her eyes as he twisted his fingers. "Let's see how you give head."
She stared at him, not understanding, and he shoved her roughly, then pulled her face to his crotch, forcing her into contact with his stiff cock.
"Suck my cock, bitch! Damn you! Suck it good!"
Oh, no! She tried to twist away. This isn't what I wanted! I want him to fuck me! I can't do this! It's sickening, I'm going to throw up . . .
But his hands were forcing her lips to touch the head of his cock, wet with its own juices, the glans battering against her teeth. She grimaced, and opened her lips-and he saw the opening, shoving forward suddenly so that his cock penetrated her lips and ran all the way to the back of her throat.
Bastard! Please, don't!
But there was no escape; she had to suck him, had to take him all the way into her mouth even though she gagged around his cock, found it impossible to breathe. Her teeth grated the skin of his cock, earning her an angry cuff, and after that she learned how to hold her lips over her teeth. She sucked him deep into her throat, then rode back until her teeth caught on the rim of the head. And as she sucked she realized that it wasn't a bad feeling at all. In fact, it was pretty damn exciting. She worked the muscles of her ass, feeling the lips of her cunt opening and closing with each movement, longing to know all of this thing that made him a man, made him different from her.
Oh, god, baby! I love it! Is this what I've been missing all these years? Damn it, Mabel, you should have had a man doing this to you long ago! Those punk kids who wanted to stick their finger in my pussy so they could sniff my cunt smell were assholes. This is a man I'm sucking on! And I love it!
Suddenly he was pushing her away, tearing his cock from her eager lips, and she cried out in protest.
"No! Don't take it out!"
He laughed. "I knew you'd love it, once you got a taste of cock. Bitch! Now I'm going to find out what else you're good at."
His hands were picking her up, undoing the buttons on her blouse, removing that and the skirt, and then the panties that were all that she was wearing beneath them. He was awkward in his eagerness, making her cry out in pain as he twisted a nipple.
"Oh, god! Fuck me-please! I can't stand it any longer!"
"Soon, baby. Just as quick as I get the rest of these things off you-then your cunt is going to get a plowing you never imagined in your best dreams."
He bent to kiss the nipple then, making her sigh with pleasure as he sucked the erection into his mouth. She shivered. Take me, damn you! I want it now! Take me-tear my clothes from my body! Rape me, fuck me, fuck me! Now!
He was lifting her back onto the couch now, laying her on her back. Her eyes closed, Mabel sighed, then opened her legs to his touch, to his gaze.
God, my cunt is hot! I feel like I'm drowning in my own pussy juices.
Then he was over her and she rose to meet him coming down. It was as though his weight were crushing her against the worn fabric of the couch. Her arms went around him, pulling him to her, and his cock found the opening to her inner body. The head slipped through the outer portal, a firebrand that sent the message of his passion surging into her every nerve cell.
"Fuck . . . meeeee!"
He paused then, testing his position within her, and she squeezed her cunt about his cock, making him gasp in pleasured surprise.
"Damn you!" She hissed the words through clenched teeth. "Stop teasing me and do it! Do it!"
He kissed the tip of her nose, then her lips, and then lifted his weight above her, balancing himself for a minute on his arms.
"Baby, you are about to get the fucking of a lifetime!"
Then he was moving into her, shoving his cock all of the way into her, penetrating to his full length as his cock spread the soft walls of her inner passage and turned the sensitive flesh into a raging torrent of passion that set her heart to pounding wildly. Her body was burning with the fever of her excitement. He filled her completely, the outer lips of her cunt feeling the crisp cock hairs pressing against their softness, he rising up over her as he thrust even further into her, forcing his cock to its last fraction of an inch within the eager cunt.
Oh god yes! This is the way I knew it would be, the way I always wanted it. Now fuck me, damn you! Fuck me!
He was breathing heavily, working hard to maintain the pace of his fucking.
"Christ, you're deep! And tight as a gnat's ass-but deep, baby! But I've got you now. How do you like having my cock all the way inside?"
She didn't answer for a moment, and his hands went to the sides of her head, forcing her to look at him. But the only sensation she felt was not his nails digging into her, but that of his cock within her. It was expanding now as his flesh became even more engorged with his lust-driven blood. Her breath came in shallow gasps as he lowered his full weight onto her breasts, crushing them, and she tried to work against him, tried to have some control over the act, to make him meet her needs.
He misunderstood her struggles. "You don't like it, huh? Well, that's tough shit, baby! You got it, and now you're in for the ride of your life!"
She managed to force three words. "I . . . like it!"
Christ, yes! Like it? I love it! She humped against him. Stop teasing me, damn you! Fill me, fill my cunt, let me feel your cock against my intestines and all the way in my womb!
"Oh fuck!" she cried. "Fuck me, lover-fuck meeee!"
He rode her then, throwing his weight against her, his chest riding up over her breasts as his balls slammed against the ends of her ass with every finished downstroke. The cock seemed to be still impossibly growing inside her cunt, expanding until there was no other sensation in the world but the feel of his cock flesh against the walls of her cunt. Her eyes closed tight against the labor of loving him, but brilliant colors danced against the back of the lids, wild reds and greens and purples that were shapes she couldn't understand except to know they were obscene.
And now his weight seemed to force the very breath from her body, and would not let it return until the burning in her chest was so strong that she wanted to scream, his cock plunging so hard against her that there was no relief. Her ass slid over the surface of the couch, feeling the outline of the flower and vine design worked into the fabric, and every slippery inch was another explosion of pure agonized pleasure.
Oh damn! Oh shit! Oh Christ! I can't stand it any more, I can't take it any more! It's too much, too much! It's kitting me!
But aloud she cried, "Fuck me! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
And then the sputtering fuse that he had lighted within her cunt came to the point of explosion, and she was carried up and into an orgasm unlike any she had ever imagined, even in her dreams. No quick sudden spurting of her juices over her fingers as she masturbated herself to sleep-this was a release of pressure more devastating even than the act of taking the cock of a man into her body. It came over her in waves, each peaking higher, shuddering her body and short-circuiting her nerve channels, and at the same moment he began to explode his own load.
"Oh God!" she cried. "I'm cumming!"
"Christ!" He tried to force his cock even further into her opening, into her passage, into the heart and soul of her body. "Here I cum!"
The old couch was shaking with the force of their movements, her arms wrapping completely around him, her ass rising completely into the air to meet his downstroke even as their juices were pouring out, soaking their legs, soaking their bodies, the wet stain saturating the fabric.
"I am cummminnnngggg!" she shrieked.
A sudden rush of juices coated Mabel's legs, soaking her panties.
"Shit!" Just thinking about Wilbur, about the first time he ever fucked me, made me cum! Goddammit!
She jumped up from the leather chair and stripped off the panties, balling them and tossing them through the open door and into the living room of the apartment. Her skirt had ridden far enough up to save it from showing the signs of her passion, and now she straightened it, checking her appearance in the old bar mirror Wilbur had mounted over his roll-top desk.
She looked at his picture in the silver frame on top of the desk. He was grinning what the women had called his big Irish grin-not knowing that the only Irish blood in Wilbur Love's body came by way of Poland. The photograph showed him as he had been when Mabel first met him, twelve years ago, just weeks before she shocked her family by marrying a man thirty years older than herself.
And now Wilbur was a month in his grave, dead at sixty-one of a totally unexpected heart attack. He had never been a weak man, his energy in bed was as strong as his energy for work right up until the day he died. In fact, they had fucked not three hours before the heart attack.
Now Mabel was cumming in her panties because she was so horny. Christ, I've got to have a man! Wilbur, you know I never fucked around with another guy while you were alive-but you taught me to appreciate your cock. Now I can't live without it. I don't give a shit what anybody says, I have got to get fucked!
Her black suit showed no signs of the passions firing her within. It was properly demure for widow's weeds, except that maybe it showed a bit too much leg above the knee. And the black sheer stockings didn't really lend themselves to the widow's image, even though the color was right in keeping with the sombre appearance a business lady was expected to keep. Mabel was due down at the county courthouse right after lunch, to discuss the renewal of the license to operate the amusement park that was Wilbur's legacy to her-along with the memory of his skill at fucking.
Now she noticed the summer sounds that were coming through the open window of the office, even though Decoration Day was almost two weeks away and office summer more than a month off. She could hear clearly the calliope tuning up in the bandstand in the little park at the end of the midway and, fainter, the tinkling of the giant music box in the merry-go-round.
Mabel smiled now, remembering the shocked look on her mother's scandalized face when she broke the news of her impending marriage.
"It's a sin, Mabel! Are you after his money?"
No, Mama, it wasn't his money-it was his cock. Although I don't suppose you know much about that, considering the dinky thing Daddy had hanging between his legs. Did you ever enjoy fucking Daddy, Mama? I don't remember hearing your bedsprings ever squeak, from the time I was old enough to know about squeaking bedsprings.
But there was no point chasing old ghosts. Mama was deader than Wilbur, for she was gone five years longer. Daddy was dead, too.
I hope wherever you went, Daddy, it wasn't to the same place as Mama. That would really be shitty. If she's in Heaven, then I very definitely want to go to Hell.
But she very much wanted to go where Wilbur was now, whichever place it might be.
Fuck! That's just what I need-to be fucked!
Mabel looked at Wilbur's picture again, seeing him as she had the day she first came to the amusement park office, answering his newspaper ad for a girl of all work. Wilbur was glad to, hire her, for she was pretty and buxom, and her red hair was her own. The top references she carried from her last job were just icing on the cake.
"Why'd you quit Forman's Construction?" he asked, chewing around his ever-present but always unlit cigar.
"Personal reasons, Mr. Love," she said, looking away as though embarrassed. Which she had very much been, the day that Al Forman's wife came to the office to find her husband backing his secretary into the corner, his cock already out of his pants and hard. She particularly didn't want to admit that her teasing had led to the hard-on, and the interrupted attack on her virtue.
But Wilbur read her mind. "The studs wouldn't leave you alone, huh? What makes you think you'll be any better off with a horny son of a bitch like me?"
Mabel was worried at first that she had made a mistake in coming here. "I don't mind kidding, Mr. Love-so long as it stays at kidding."
He eyed her shape, the heavy swell of her breasts and the generous curve of her hip. "Honey, I don't kid around. When I say something or do something, I mean business."
She was going to refuse at that, but the money was forty dollars a week more than she had expected. Maybe that should have wised me up that he was after more than just my typing skills. For the first couple of weeks they were so busy getting the park ready for the new season that there was no time for either one of them to screw around. But opening weekend finally came, with beautiful weather and a great crowd, and that night at closing time Wilbur was in a mood to celebrate. He broke out a bottle of champagne in the office, pouring Mabel a glass.
The lights were off in the office, the only illumination coming from the open window from the Midway below. He started toward her with the glass, and tripped over something unseen. The champagne spilled, and he stumbled into her, knocking her off balance.
Mabel started to fall, but Wilbur's strong arm caught her and pulled her up. His wrist cut into the undersides of her firm breasts, holding her a fraction more tightly than necessary, and for a few seconds longer than he had to. She smelled his maleness, face pressed against his shoulder, felt the sharp corner of his hip digging into her full softness.
Oh, Lord, what is the matter with me? She closed her eyes, feeling the heat suddenly firing below, the lubricity as her body began to ready itself for the act of love. Even though her entire previous sex experience had been with just three boys, counting Randy, the boy her own age who lived next door the summer she was twelve, she knew at that moment that she wanted Wilbur Love to do . . . it. She wanted to be fucked by an experienced man, to know what it was like to have a cock thrust into her . . . Her left hand came away from his arm, hesitated a fraction of a second, then reached down to his cock . . .
My God, what am I doing?
Her face flushed red, and she stopped herself. But he felt the stirring of her blood, felt the touch of her engorged nipples against his body. His arm had been ready to release her, but now it tightened about her, pulled her close. He smiled as he bent to kiss her, smothering her lips with his.
"Please!"
She tried to break away, but he would not let her go for more than a minute. Then he stared at her, before turning to recover the champagne glasses. He refilled them, and handed one to her, without incident this time.
"A toast," he said. "To the season."
"To the season." She sipped at the bubbly liquor, her first taste of champagne. It tickled her nose.
"And to us."
"To us?"
He drank, then set the empty glass on a table. "I've been watching you since you came here, Mabel-and I talked to Al Forman. I know what you want-what you would have had if Al's wife hadn't walked in on you two."
"No!" She shook her head. "You're wrong! I'm not like that at all."
"Bullshit! Baby, you want cock so bad you might as well have it written on your forehead."
He grabbed her, kissed her again, more violently this time, and at the same time was urging her toward the door to his apartment behind the office. She tried to struggle, break free, but he would have none of it. He had taken his shirt off earlier, to help fix one of the rides, not bothering to put it back on, and now she felt his hairy skin against her soft arms as he forced her into the living room of the apartment, and against the couch. She stumbled, and sat down, cowering into the corner.
"Please, no! Don't!"
"Shut up, bitch! You've been cock teasing all your life-now you're going to get properly fucked!"
He began to undo the buckle of his belt . . .