Chapter 2
For the twentieth time in fifteen minutes, Kathy Weems looked up from the game show on television and checked the time. It was a quarter-after nine and dinner had been cold for two-and-a-half hours. She jerked her gaze back to the television set and stared at it without seeing. Paul had been late lots of times before, but never this late! It was business, of course, it was always business. She told herself that she should've gotten used to it by now, that it shouldn't have bothered her, but she couldn't bring herself to believe her own rationalizations.
In a sense, it was business, she knew. She knew that Paul was determined to make all his money while he was young enough to enjoy it. When they were first married, that'd seemed like a wonderful thing to look forward to. Now, it was nothing but a bitter joke. And in another sense, she knew that what was happening to their relationship wasn't just the result of business interfering with their mealtime schedules. They were losing contact with each other, mentally and physically. When they first started living together, Paul had seemed to like her shy, reserved ways in bed. But lately, his attitude about her had changed. She thought he felt she was a stiff-necked little prude and for that reason, he hardly ever touched her anymore. She often wondered, and not without anger, who he was touching these days.
She looked at the clock again. Nine-seven teen! She had a sudden twinge of fear that maybe he'd gotten into an automobile accident on the way home from the office.
For an instant, she considered dragging out the phone book and calling all the hospitals in the vicinity, but she didn't budge from her reclining chair. She knew she'd only be making a complete fool out of herself. Paul wasn't hurt. He was out wining and dining some prospective clients, trying to make them feel guilty enough about his generosity to buy some property from him.
What really made her mad was that Paul's opinion of her sexual desires was completely unfounded. Sure, she'd been shocked by some of the things he'd asked her to do, but she'd never said "No" to him. She knew that what he wanted was for her to take a more active part in their sex life, to not only submit to his odd fancies, but to make some up of her own. She was not categorically against anything, really, but the idea of letting go, of acting out her fantasies with another person was something she didn't think she was ready for, yet. Paul had tried to stimulate her by going out to the nearest adult bookstore and buying a whole armload of full-color, slick sex magazines. He had spread them out on their bed and carefully shown her all the pictures of angry red cocks dipping into pink, wet, hair-fringed pussies, of glistening female lips diving down over bulbous, swollen cockheads, and while he was showing them to her, he'd taken out his own cock and masturbated. After a bit, he made frantic, passionate love to her. She tried her hardest to get excited over the photos, but the poses seemed horribly far-fetched to her and the sex acts usually involved more than two people, a situation she could not even imagine the possibility of. After a night or two of looking at the picture book with her and masturbating, Paul gave up on her. He took his sexy magazines into the bathroom and did his masturbation there, alone.
It drove her crazy to hear him through the bathroom door, moaning and mumbling, knowing exactly what he was doing to himself, how he was insulting her, denying her satisfaction. He still did make love to her sometimes, but when he did, he kept changing positions on her all the time, like he was playing all the parts in one of the pictures in his hard-core magazines.
The ironic thing about the situation was that suddenly the group sex fantasy was a distinct possibility. At the house party, the previous week, Paul's boss, Merl Santiago, had kept her cornered all evening. The champagne was flowing like water and both he and she were well-lubricated by it. His conversation was limited to one subject: Sex. He kept hinting, rather openly, that he would like not only to have sex with her but to introduce her to a few of his close friends for a little "private party." She tried to act blase about the rather startling proposition, but she didn't do a very good job. Merl was a big man, barrel-chested, massive, a threatening figure and she kept trying to think up an excuse to get away from him. What bothered her even more than the awesome presence of the huge man and his lewd offer was the fact that as she stood there, she couldn't get the dirty pictures in Paul's magazines out of her mind. The only difference between the real photos and the ones in her head was that it was her naked, willing body sandwiched between the hard, thrusting cocks, the moist licking tongues, the deeply probing fingers.
Again, she looked at the clock. Nine-twenty-two! She rose angrily from her chair and flicked off the television. She'd been thinking about Paul's magazines and Merl's offer on and off all day and it had become like a knife blade in her guts, twisting and tearing at her flesh. She walked into their bedroom and closed the door behind her.
The pretty, slender blonde pushed her hair back behind her ears as she pawed through Paul's bottom dresser drawer, pushing aside the neat stacks of clothes he never wore anymore, in search of his stash of pornography. The sound of a car on the street out in front made her stop what she was doing and glance back over her shoulder in apprehension. When the car passed, she continued rooting through his things until she found the pile of magazines. She took the top one from the stack and carried it over to the bed with her, stretching out beside it on the chenille bedspread.
The magazine was titled "Love Party" and it was filled from page to page with graphic photographs of five extremely virile and hairy men gang-fucking a lovely young blonde. The paces those men put that poor girl through were almost unimaginable to the young blonde.
Damn you, Paul, she thought as she thumbed through the arousing photographs, if you'd only spend a little less time on that stupid job of yours and a little more on me, I wouldn't have to get my kicks from a busy five-dollar magazine! Its been almost two weeks now...and, whether you notice it or not, Fm still young, only twenty-five, and I need a man more often than that! You're just lucky, my money-grubbing husband, that I haven't started flirting with the mailman or your damned boss...instead of this!
The skillfully photographed orgy was supposed to be the story of a football groupie, a cheerleader who goes all the way for the team in the locker room after the Big Game. In the beginning, there were a few shots of the guys on the bench at the sidelines and of the blonde cheerleader doing high kicks in her short pleated skirt. To the delight of the players and the amazement of Kathy, the beautiful girl wasn't wearing any panties! The action really got underway in the locker room after the game, however.
Kathy felt the tingling itch of her own unrequited passions begin to taunt her, burning between her slender, girlish thighs like a hot flame held close to her loins. She was still wearing her favorite daytime attire, a pair of white cotton tennis shorts and a matching tank top. She slowly slipped her fingers into the waist band of her shorts as she turned the page with her other hand...undressing just as the cheerleader did in the color photos.
She pushed the shorts over her flaring hips and wriggled out of them, tugging them down her smooth, long legs and kicking them off at the ankles.
There was nothing but smooth skin beneath the shorts, as she wore no panties with her shorts while puttering about the house. She inhaled a quick breath as her fingertips lightly searched the blonde fleece of her pubic vee for the moist, deepening slit of her pussy.
She looked longingly at the photographs, realizing that for the first time, she was actually getting stimulated by them. She watched the first lust-stirring sequence unfold through the pages as the cheerleader slips totally naked but for her white tennies into the locker room where the football players are in the middle of undressing and showering. Kathy let her mind wander, unfettering her fervent imagination. She could hear and feel the photos coming to life as she turned the pages and they took on an almost super-real exuberance of their own. Her breath began to come in short shallow gasps as she rubbed the fat, protuberant mound of her vagina with the flat of her palm.
All right! All right! the half-naked athletes were shouting as the naked cheerleader cavorted in front of them.
The boys could hardly believe their good fortune. They seemed stunned into immobility by the beautifully firm young body that was so plainly theirs for the taking. In the end, it was the cheerleader who made the first move. She bent down over a marvelously muscled young man sitting, naked but for a towel over his lap, on the locker room bench and took his heavy headed but limp penis in hand. She worked the soft shaft through her fist, lowering her head, parting her full lips, and extending her long, pink tongue. The expression on the football player's face was sheer ecstasy as she licked the bulbous tip of his penis, swirling her tongue over the broad, smooth cap, bathing it in her sweetly scented saliva. As she leaned over the happy boy, another player, this one black and monstrously huge, clad in his shoulder pads and jockstrap, put his dark fingers on her smooth white buttocks. Almost as if he'd rehearsed it a thousand times, the black man knelt behind the cheerleader, parting the cheeks of her ass, pressing his face between them.
"Uhhhhhhhh! Yessssss!" the cheerleader hissed, licking faster at the stiffening cock under her lips. She moaned tremulously as the Black's thick pink tongue splayed through the thin, sparse curls of her blonde pubic hair, and parted the dew-moist folds of her vagina in one, laving swipe.
Kathy turned the page again. The cheerleader had brought the young man on the bench to throbbing erection and the camera moved in for a breathtaking close-up as she jammed her ovaled lips down over the end of the blood engorged member. Kathy felt her own heart racing in her chest as she saw the massive length of black cock sticking lewdly up out of the top of the jockstrap of the pussy-licking athlete. The head of it looked like a great, velvety plum and there was glistening wetness at its tip. It wasn't only his cock that was shining, either. His broad face, from the nose down, was gleaming with sticky, fragrant juice. She could hear the cheerleader's muffled screams of ecstasy in her own mind!
"God, yes! Yes! Hurt me! Bite me!" the cheerleader cried, sliding her tongue up the underside of the meaty erection, massaging the lust-bloated testicles in their nest of crisp brown pubic hair.
Kathy's hand was between her thighs, feverishly rubbing, palm down, over the hummock of her pussy, hotly insinuating her own fingers over the fervent mound of her cunt...her legs scissored open and closed in a lustful rhythm of naked desires as she turned the page again.
The other players had begun to move in, to touch and stroke the trembling girl's silky nakedness, their hands gripping over the dangling mounds of her breasts, pinching, tugging at her hard little nipples, their fingers sliding over her smooth buttocks, pushing at the tight, wrinkled ring of her anus, touching her cruelly distended lips as they slipped up and down the thick meatiness of the boy's throbbing cock, their fingers circling their own stiffening cocks, pumping them to blue-veined hardness.
Tears streamed from the cheerleader's eyes as the black man tongue-fucked her mercilessly, in long, deep strokes that bored hotly up into her cock-hungry belly. She was orgasming! And her joy was infectious. Suddenly, she jerked the glistening cock from her sucking lips, holding it tightly in her fist as it bucked and flexed, shooting gobs of slippery white cum over her panting face and onto her wildly lashing tongue.
It was too much for the crowd of lust-crazed athletes to bear. She was rudely lifted off her feet and flipped onto her side on the long bench. Before the ecstatic girl could so much as moan, another swollen cockhead was thrust between her wet lips, forced savagely over the surface of her tongue, and its impaling thickness jammed deep into her slippery throat. And the black man, with his massive erection, was moving in alongside of her on the bench. Many hands were clutching at her long, tapering legs, pulling them wide apart, splaying them lewdly. The Black pushed the spongy head of his penis into her inflamed pussy, clutching her creamy hips, bucking himself up into her wet channel in an animalist frenzy.
The camera moved in for a close-up of that cruelly thick black cock as it retreated from the warm, slithery pink depths of her ravaged pussy. It was awash in her crystal clear lubricant and the thin, hair-fringed lips of her cunt clung wetly to the withdrawing shaft, sucking at it hungrily.
A face pushed between her obscenely parted buttocks from behind, its hot, moist tongue playing teasingly with the puckering pink ring of her rectum, as a scant two inches away, the great ebony cock pistoned in and out of her sizzling slit.
The cheerleader climaxed again...and again...and again as the twin probes lanced into her passionate body, as other penises, hard and hot, rubbed over her arms and legs, pushing between her armpits, against her toes. By the time Kathy turned the last page of the book, the blonde cheerleader was dripping with sweat, the inside of her thighs gleaming with her own thick lubricant, her mouth and chin gleaming with her own hot saliva. The last photo showed pure chaos. The wetly gleaming cock in front of her was spitting threads of milky white fluid into her open, gaping mouth and the black man, at the crucial moment, had pulled his massive penis from her raging cunt and was emptying his sperm-laden balls over her exposed crotch, sending great gushes of sloshing cum spattering over the obscenely parted lips of her pussy, the damp, fleecy curls of her pudenda, the silky smooth domes of her ass.
Kathy's legs were straight up in the air over her, her bare feet waving frantically as both her hands worked feverishly between her nakedly-splayed thighs. She had the pinkish moist folds of cuntal flesh parted with the fingers of one hand and with the other was busily caressing the nerve-filled bud of her clitoris.
"Uhhhhhhggghhh...uhhhhhgggg-hh...." she chanted mindlessly, the photo book closed now and forgotten as she soared off in her own private fantasies, imagining herself in the place of that pretty blonde cheerleader, just her and all those huge, throbbing cocks to take away the awful, hungry burning in her smooth belly!
Suddenly, she started to come...groaning and cursing between clenched teeth, she rolled the oily marble of her clitoris between her fingertips, fast-pumping it as her crescendo of orgasmic intensity swelled to a pinnacle of grunting, wailing ecstasy. She thrashed wildly on the coverlet, bucking her round, sleek hips up into her own, deeply probing fingers, then the sheer wave of pleasure blissfully subsided and she lay there, panting from the exertion.
She dozed off, her hands still between her thighs, smiling as she reminisced about the very early days of their marriage, the days when Paul used to take off early from the office just so they could have time for an extra round of lovemaking before they ate dinner. Reminiscing about how he always came through the front door with a hard-on, a hard-on just for her! And how they sometimes couldn't make it to the bedroom in their frantic passion to join bodies, ripping and tearing at each other's clothing. Reminiscing about how he loved to push her down over the coffee table with a pillow beneath her breasts, or over the arm of an easy chair while he knelt on the carpet or crouched close to her widely splayed thighs and fucked her deliciously from behind.
Paul! Oh, Paul, the money, the security just isn't worth it! she thought. I know how much it means to you and I know that you want it for me as well as yourself, but I need you much more than I need capital in the bank. I need you so much more than you know! I need you to fuck me, Paul. To do it like you used to! Slow and long until I can't stand it, until I have to scream or go crazy. I'm a normal, healthy woman, Paul, and I need it. I need it so bad!