Chapter 5

Connie's eyes fastened on Harvey's face, and his grin widened to show his yellow teeth as he took in the sight of her nakedness and the fingers that were sunk obliviously into her cunt. In the overwhelming throes of her own horniness Connie bounced on her seeking hand, even as a part of her recoiled in startled shame. His gaze dropped to the point where her fingers disappeared inside her, and he licked his lips as Connie rolled her head and shuddered again and again, letting her fingers pump the last dregs of orgasm from her cunt.

Then she slumped, her quivering boobs heaving, and slowly returned to reality.

Harve waved, his beady eyes devouring her, and dropped his hand to pat his crotch.

Abruptly, comprehension burst through the haze her mind had become, and Connie gasped and fled the window in shock and utter mortification. He had seen! He had stood there and watched it all, feasting his eyes on the sight before him. He had watched Paul do those awful things to Irene, and-worst of all, at the moment-he had watched Connie.

She couldn't push back the humiliating realization that Harve had seen her fingering herself while Paul and Irene fucked on the ground between them. Connie grabbed up her nightgown and stumbled blindly from the bedroom and down the stairs, overcome by the sheer confusion of her own shock, lust, and degradation. She found herself standing in the living room, her mind a total blank, as though a fog of uncertainty had crept over her.

Paul-her Paul, her tender, loving husband--how could he be the hungry, cruel animal she had just seen? That person was a stranger, an evil, filthy stranger in Paul's body, a stranger who had done things that Paul would never even have considered!

Connie stared around the room, feeling her head spin and her eyes brim with tears, because it had been Paul. It had been her husband grinding his finger into Irene's ass and angrily biting her tits and shooting his loathsome cum inside her clutching cunt. It had been Paul doing all the things he would never have attempted with his own wife, doing all those disgusting, perverted things-all those filthy things that had excited Connie so much!

Suddenly, someone spoke behind her: "You all right, Missy?"

Connie spun around to see Harve standing in the front doorway, smiling at her. Still in the same T-shirt and Bermuda shorts he'd worn yesterday, he stared at her in a leering way that made her blush, and walked in without, being invited.

"Nice morning, isn't it? Just the kind of morning to get the juices flowing, eh? At least, that's the impression I've been getting around here."

Connie looked at him coldly, ignoring the taunt: in his voice. "What do you want, Harvey?"

Harve shrugged, absently scratching his paunchy belly, and his grin widened. "Well, Missy, for the moment, all I want is to stand here and look at you."

Connie's blush deepened as his eyes moved down to her revealing nightgown, but she made no move to cover herself. After all, he'd already seen her without any clothes at all; he'd even seen her-Connie pushed the thought aside.

"All right," she said. "Now that you've looked, would you please leave? Really, Harve, I don't feel very well right now."

Harve's grin faded a bit, and he took on that innocent teddy-bear look of concern. "Come off it, Missy. I know what you saw, and you damned well know what I saw, so let's cut right through this crap."

"You don't have any right to talk to me that way!" Connie flared. "If ... if you saw Paul and Irene, if you saw everything they did, how can you just stand there so calmly, as if nothing had happened?"

Harve shrugged. "What's to get upset about? I don't own her, and it sure doesn't look like you own Paul, so why should we get carried away? They both enjoyed it, and nobody's hurt . . . unless you want to hurt yourself, that is. And I'd rather not see that happen, so I thought I'd better drop in."

Now that it was in the open, Connie felt the return of bitter tears. "How can you just . . . just stand there so calmly? I thought you loved Irene! Didn't you see what they were doing? Rutting on the ground like a couple of animals!"

"Yes, I saw," Harvey replied with a trace of anger. "I also saw you, honey pie, and it didn't look like you were doing so bad, yourself. Right now, you're overreacting because you feel guilty, that's all. You got a thrill out of watching them, and now you're ashamed to admit it."

His words stung, largely because of the truth in them. Connie looked at him through blurred,-smarting eyes and spat, "That's a lie! A filthy, ugly lie!"

She started to run past him for her bedroom, but Harve caught her arms and pulled her to him. Connie wriggled**angrily in his grasp, and his hot breath fanned her face.

"A lie, eh? All right, if you want to play with lies, then prove it. Come here!"

He dragged Connie roughly to a window and shoved the curtains apart. And there before them, only feet away, lay Paul and Irene, still locked in each other's arms.

Connie stared, unable to resist, as Harve released one of her arms just long enough to silently raise the window. "Now tell me you didn't like it," he whispered in her ear. "Just tell me you didn't get a kick out of watching your husband fuck the piss out of another woman. Go on . . . tell me!"

Connie didn't answer. She couldn't because it was true, and Harvey knew it was true. He'd seen it with his own eyes. She stared in mixed horror and fascination as Irene sighed deeply, her hand caressing Paul's shriveled balls.

Slowly, he started to rise, and Irene clutched at him. "Oh, don't go yet! The party's just getting started."

Paul laughed. "I've got to, babe. Connie might wake up and look out here at any moment, and I don't think she'd be as understanding as you. Anyway, I'm dying to take a leak, and I don't believe this is exactly the right place."

But Irene wouldn't release him. Twisting his mouth in a hard little smile, Paul forced her arms away and pushed her back on the towel, then stood over her, his limp cock dangling over her widely spread legs.

"If I don't go in about ten seconds, things are going to get pretty wet around here. Or maybe you'd like that, huh?"

Irene gazed up at him, and a brief smile flickered across her lips. "What do you think, lover?"

Paul grinned. "What was it you said . . . 'I'm yours just for the asking, whenever and whatever'? Okay, then, let's find out. The whenever is now, and the whatever is this." His hand gripped his shriveled prick, and suddenly a few yellow droplets leaped from it to fall on Irene's flat belly.

But she didn't make a sound of surprise, didn't try to wipe them away. Instead, she gave him a taunting smile. "I meant what I said. All you have to do is tell me how."

Her eyes dared him, and what had begun as a joke suddenly grew serious. "All right," he said softly, "if that's how you want it. Raise your legs."

Irene did as he said, exposing her cream-filled cunt as her legs rose in the air. Paul grabbed her ankles and suddenly pushed them back and wide apart, making her cry out in surprise as she suddenly found herself balanced on her shoulders, her gaping pink cunt and puckered sweet asshole aiming up at the cock that hung just inches away.

Paul laughed, and his face contorted in anticipation. "Now, baby, I'm going to piss right between your legs and you're going to love it, hear me? You're going to holler for more. Are you ready, honey? Because here it comes!" And suddenly his cock spurted, and a stream of yellow fluid shot forth, straight into Irene's open hole.

She gasped as the violent spray struck her clit and battered it with steamy wetness. Irene arched as Paul's piss surged back and forth over her clit, mingling with her own gushing juices and running in rivulets down her belly and back.

"Paul!" she cried. "I'm coming! Do . . . ohhh . . . don't let it stop . . . I'm coming!"

Paul just laughed, and his spray seemed to go on forever, until at last the final precious golden drops fell on her winking asshole.

"Oh, Paul . . . oh, my God," Irene whimpered as he released her legs, letting her fall in a heap. "It ... it was so good, I never came that quickly before."

Still grinning, enjoying his power over this beautiful woman, Paul knelt and pulled Irene's head up by her hair. "Look at that," he said, forcing her gaze to his cock. "There's still a drop or two in my prick, see? One's already forming right at the tip of my prickhead. Now lick it up like a nice girl."

Obeying him completely, Irene leaned forward and licked the half-formed droplet of piss that clung to the reddened tip of his cock. Her tongue darted around his inflamed cockhead, making it jerk erect, and Paul's hands eagerly entangled in her long black hair as she licked and sucked at his cock, taking the whole length into her mouth.

"You see?" Harve whispered, his big hands kneading Connie's arms as she stood helplessly, caught up in the unbelievable scene before her. "They're just having some harmless fun, that's all. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

Connie didn't answer, didn't even notice as Harve's eyes fastened on the hint of pale skin that barely showed beneath her blue nightgown. He could see the soft curves of her shoulders, the perky little buds of her sweet little tits poking out, the firmness of her belly and the flaring of her soft hips. She didn't notice as he licked his lips hungrily and moved one hand down to caress her waist while the other massaged her shoulder.

"It's not really so bad, is it?" he asked in a rough, cracked voice.

Dimly, Connie heard, and almost like another person, slowly shook her head. She couldn't tear her eyes from the sight of Paul's cock in Irene's hungry wet mouth, the way it slid back and forth between her full lips. Again Connie felt her own juices stir uncontrollably, as though it were she, and not Irene, with Paul's lovely fat cock jerking, hot and throbbing, in her mouth. It was she, not Irene, whose little cunt streamed with his piss and cum, gaping open and drooling onto the yellow blanket. She could feel Paul's beautiful prick oozing in and out of her mouth, could taste the bitter salty droplets of his piss on her tongue, could feel his cock-hairs bristle delightfully on her face.

Connie knew she was creaming once again, and she parted her lips in a small gasp as Paul's wonderful, hungry prick slid in and out, in and out . . .

"That's my girl," Harve whispered huskily as the hand around her waist, dropped lower until it gently cupped one swelling cheek of her pert little ass.

Connie didn't resist, didn't even seem to be aware of it. Her eyes glowed with lust as she watched the couple in the yard, and Harve's hand began to massage her juicy little ass through the nightgown.

"I knew you'd be all right, once you just relaxed and let it flow."

Now Paul's ass was twitching of its own accord. Irene's mouth sucked faster and faster for the nectar within his hard throbbing cock. She caressed his sweaty balls and reached past them to stroke the hairy ring of his shitter. Her head swayed back and forth greedily, seeking the hot load of his cum.

Connie panted. She could feel the stiffness of Paul's prick between her jaws as its luscious load gathered for a rushing burst of sticky, delicious cum. Her cunt itched and tingled, and a wave of heat spread through her, making her twat ache even more. She wanted to scream out her horny need, to leap on that lovely cock and jam it between her legs, feel it cream inside her and fill her completely.

As Harve continued to squeeze and knead her little ass, his other hand slid down her arm and gently placed her numb hand on the growing bulge in his Bermudas.

"Do you feel that?" he asked, grinning. "That's what you really want, isn't it? Feel how big it is, how hard? Just touch it . . . ahhh, that's right."

Caught in her daze, Connie felt the bulge of cock beneath her hand and automatically moved across it, caressed it as though it were Paul's. Harve groaned as her fingers rubbed his bulge.

"Yeah," he groaned. "Yeah, feel how nice and big it is, just right for a sweet little thing like you. Here, just let me take it out."

Quickly he unfastened his shorts and pulled them down, and Connie's fingers trailed through his thick fuzz to the root of his giant erect cock and slowly encircled it.

Dimly she felt the size of the thing in her hand and gasped with a fresh aching release of cuntjuice. This wasn't Paul's sweet cock, but a huge, monstrous prick she was holding. Vaguely she realized that it was Harvey's giant pecker in her hand, not Paul's. She could hear his grunting intake of breath as her small hand glided over its hugeness, and her lips parted to make a small O of surprise and lust.

Harve shuddered. "Yeah, yeah, that's good ... so good, Missy."

Now both his hands were free, and he reached for the shoulder straps of Connie's nightgown, easing them down to the cleavage of her small tits as she massaged his big prick. Harve's fingers trembled, and sweat broke out on his face as he moved slowly, not wanting to break Connie's trance. He gently pushed the bodice of her nightgown down over the twin mounds of her precious, delicate little boobs.

Connie's breath came fast, and her small gorgeous tits heaved as the nightgown dropped lower. Her hard pointed nipples thrust out before his stare, making him gasp at their loveliness.

Harve luxuriated in the sight of those tiny perfect white mounds topped by their cherry-tipped little nubs. The pure sweetness of those pert, delectable goodies almost sent him shooting his wad on the spot. They were so small, so petite and lovely, so aching to be touched. His hands moved up to cup them, and his thumbs pressed the jutting buds of her nipples, making them poke out even harder.

Connie gasped, knowing that it was Harvey's horny, dirty hands on her tits. But she couldn't restrain the surge of fire that shot through her cunt at the feel of the enormous cock in her hand, which was tugging faster in response to his lingering hands.

In the yard, Irene was sucking now with unquenchable thirst as she pumped faster and faster on Paul's cock. Paul hunched and twisted, tearing at her lips with eager, harsh joy. "Swallow it, baby!" he gritted. "Swallow it whole, you horny bitch! You really love the taste of it, don't you? Suck it, babe, like you never sucked before!"

He jammed his cock into her mouth harder, enjoying the hunger on Irene's face as well as his own feeling of total freedom to do Whatever he pleased. He gyrated his hips harshly, cruelly jarring and twisting her encompassing lips, compelled by a feeling he'd never known before. He could do anything with Irene, knowing that she would accept what he gave out. Like a fantasy come true, it gave him a sense of power that he'd never unleashed before, not even with Connie-especially not with Connie! It was a complete and total power like nothing he'd ever felt, and it was terrific. He could do anything he wanted with this beautiful woman, whatever came to mind.

With sudden decision, Paul pulled his wet, throbbing cock out of Irene's mouth, and she groaned sorrowfully, making him laugh. "You're not getting off that easy, bitch. I'm going to fuck you where you love it, baby. Get on your knees and spread those fat cheeks, slut."

"You bastard!" Irene gasped, sensing the game Paul wanted to play and smiling at his domination of her. "You horny sweet bastard!" But she did as she was told, turning about to jut her rounded ass up at Paul's face. He was grinning as she followed his instructions and pulled the cheeks of her ass apart, blinking the pink puckered eye of her asshole at him. "Don't just sit there, you bastard!" Irene panted. "Stick that pitiful little excuse for a prick in me, and let's see if I can feel it!"

Urged by her challenge, Paul placed his cock at her sticky wet shit-ring and heaved with all his strength.

Irene screamed as his cock forced her cheeks apart and sank completely up her ass. She screamed again when Paul twisted violently, grinding against her assring.

"Feel that?" he grunted, clutching her hips.

"Oh, fucking shit, you prick!" she cried out, sobbing. "Do you call that little thing a pecker?"

Now Paul's anger flared for real. Before, it had all been a game-a delightful, naughty game. But now Irene's taunting made him flush with the memory of Harve's much larger cock, striking a sudden note of inadequacy. Blushing hotly, he was determined to show this bitch who was boss. He might not be hung like a goddamned horse the way Harvey was, but, by God, this lady was going to know she'd been fucked! He twisted again, and Irene cried out. And again, and again, pumping viciously in and out of her sopping asshole. And each sob, each cry only urged him on, faster and harder with each thrust of his cock.

As though from deep within a vague dream, Connie knew that it was Harvey's ugly cock she was holding, the same cock that had chilled and excited her last night. She knew that she was letting events overwhelm her, and that she should stop him. But she was so enthralled by the feel of those rough hands and that huge horny cock that she couldn't stop, and hardly even noticed the two people in the yard, hardly heard Irene's sobs as Paul plunged into her ass. By now Connie was too excited by her own growing horniness to notice anything else.

And Harve couldn't have been more pleased at her reaction. Her soft little hand was pumping away at his monstrous cock, and her breath came harshly as he rubbed her small tits. His mouth watered at their rising blush of pinkness, and his saliva worked at the sight of her hard exquisite little nipples, until he could stand it no longer and leaned down to kiss them.

Connie's breath caught as his lips touched them, as his tongue darted out to play with her firm buds. Harve squeezed and sucked them, rubbed his face in them and moaned at the beauty of their small tenderness. Like a baby, he sucked and licked until his spit dribbled down them and they gleamed in the morning light.

Connie's hand moved faster and faster over his cock, and she gasped at its hugeness, closing her eyes to completely feel the hard fat length of it as her cunt gushed hungrily.

The time was ripe, and Harve knew it. He pulled away from her lovely boobs, put his hands on her shoulders, and gently pushed her down to her knees.

"That's right," he whispered. "Those precious lovebuds of yours want to be fucked, don't they? They want my cum spread all over them and rubbed into them. They want to feel a big prick between them, yeah."

He placed his huge cock between those marvelous little boobs, and Connie pressed her arms tight without thinking, crushing her small tits to its giant cock.

"Yeah," Harve said as his cock began to slide up and down the slick, tight cleavage of her breasts. "This is what they want, isn't it?" He watched hungrily as his oversized prod moved like a giant snake, jabbing its big ugly head up toward Connie's delicate lips. He rocked back and forth, faster and faster.

Connie panted, clasping the cock to her. It was so huge! So wonderfully huge! She hugged it between her tits, feeling herself come at the sliding caress of that cock. It felt so good, so good.

Harve's hips lunged as his cock began to ache, and Connie's perky jugs joggled with each new thrust between them, increasing his ache at the sight.

"This is what you really want, isn't it?" he gasped. "You want a big fat cock like mine to make you happy. Yeah . . .oh, yeah, squeeze those little lovebuds tighter, Missy, that's it. Yeah, make them bounce for Old Dad . . . yeah, yeah, yeah!"

He came abruptly, and hot jism shot up Connie's chest and neck, right up the side of her face, followed by pumping surges that dribbled white cum down between her boobs. Harve groaned in complete satisfaction as his hips jerked the final dregs of his load onto her naked heaving tits, and he managed a weak laugh.

"Those beautiful little buds, so sweet and tender . . . oh, Christ, that was great! Now rub it all in. Yeah, rub it on good, sweet doll."

His hands guided hers, ran them across her cum-dripping boobs and covered them with white sticky liquid. Connie felt soothing warmth sear through her, and opened her eyes once more. It felt so good.

Then she saw what her hands were doing saw Harve standing over her, his monster cock looming level with her face.

And at that moment, in one final twisting lunge, Paul shot his load up Irene's asshole, and she screamed again.

This time, Connie heard her scream, and she looked out to see her husband's face wrench as he exploded into Irene's asshole. Then they fell together on the wet blanket, and Irene murmured, "Oh, God, you're so beautiful, you sweet fucking bastard."

Connie looked from them to Harve's grinning face, then down at her sticky, white-creamed hands. "What ..." she muttered, jerked back to reality. "What did I . . . Oh, no! Oh, God, no!"

"Now, Missy," Harve said, smiling down at her cream-covered tits, "it's a little late to say that now, isn't it? Or can you honestly tell me that you didn't enjoy it?"

He laughed, and was still laughing as she flung an arm across her bare tits and, filled with shock and horror at what she'd done, fled up the stairs to the safety of her bedroom.