Chapter 11

"Oh Jesus," Red whispered, as the first to look up. Marlon was in a post-orgasmic doze, and Blackie's eyes were shut as he panted his way back to normalcy. The other boys were dozing around the room over their beer, although one was asleep with his head in the hairy nest of Viola's pussy, who was also looking dazedly up at Cliff, standing in back of her with Tex's gun in his hand.

"Okay, boys," Cliff Mathis said, pulling the safety back, "get up. And make it nice and easy, because I'm very nervous."

"Now-now, look, mister," Red stammered, jumping up with his hands in the air. The other youths came dazedly to, and looked at Cliff as if they hadn't as yet quite pieced together the alteration in the situation.

"Get up!" Cliff snarled, kicking in the head the boy who had been dozing in Viola's cunt. Viola jumped up and ran upstairs to the bedroom, her breasts and buttocks joggling as she ran. The boy rolled over across the floor and lay there inert, breathing heavily.

Tex sat up on the couch, looked at Cliff, considered saying something but instead moved over to the other side of the room with Marlon, Red and the others. Sally, getting her senses together somewhat, began dumbly picking up her clothes. Then she moved over to Cliffs side of the room and started dressing, her face all flushed. The dog Shep gave a warning growl at Cliff, who shifted the gun from Tex to the dog.

"Come over here, Shep," said Marlon softly, and the big German shepherd went over to his master, who gripped his collar tightly.

"Hold it!" barked Cliff, waving his gun at Red, who was drawing on his pants. "You won't need those. Leave them off."

Red let his jeans drop around his ankles. "Take your feet out of them," Cliff commanded. Red did as he was told. Cliff waved the gun around the room in a semi-circle, stopping at each youth in turn. "Don't any of you jerks put your clothes on. Just stay as you are." He nodded at Fredo and two others. "You two guys take off your boots and step out of your jeans and shorts."

The boys did as they were told, if sullenly. Only one of them came up retaining his hard-on. They gave Cliff no argument or smart talk. Being Chicago boys, they had a healthy respect for a gun in the hands of an outraged citizen.

"You'd better drop that cock or I'm going to shoot it off, sonny," said Cliff, pointing at the youth with a hard-on. The erection dissolved almost immediately.

Sally had put on her clothes and slipped in back of Randy to unbuckle the belt around his wrists. She couldn't bear to look her husband in the face, and was blushing furiously. She hadn't noticed at all Cliffs surreptitious movements toward Tex's gun. How had he gotten loose from the black leather belt that lay next to Randy on the floor? There was probably a story in that. She'd probably learn about it someday if either of the two men ever spoke to her again.

She was convinced that her life was finished as Randy's wife. Where would she go now? What would she do? Would the divorce be very lengthy and drawn-out? She made up her mind not to contest it. He had a right to be rid of her after this ghastly ordeal forced to watch his wife engaged in the most abominable acts.

And what was worse, enjoying them.

She closed her eyes and shivered as she considered the obscenity of her behavior.'

Or had it been obscene? Wasn't it true as well that there was no way in the world to blot out the fact from her memory that those acts had unleashed the floodgates of her personality, in a sense? Releasing feelings and emotions that she would never have dreamed existed within her well-brought-up flesh?

All that her mother had taught her about sex being dirty. Somehow she could no longer feel that now. And somehow, she doubted that she would ever feel it again, tomorrow or the day after or even after. It may be that her life was changing more than she could possibly suspect right now.

But did it have to change for the worse? Beginning with Randy leaving her? She knew that she could never live without him now. No matter what he had done and how she had been disgusted with him after that rather minor affair with Viola. Strange how it seemed so minor now. And yet it had driven her to tears and totally disintegrated her personality earlier that night. Now Randy's misbehavior seemed rather innocuous. Indeed, it could scarcely be counted as misbehavior at all. After all, Viola was her friend, wasn't she? And she was their friend, too. As was Cliff Mathis, her husband. Sex, after all, was a relatively minor exchange to effect between one's friends. It was more or less in the nature of borrowing one's car.

Or was it more than that? Somehow she was in a mood to question the whole value of the monogamous system.

What a departure! To question all of her most thorough life-long conditioning after a mere few hours of rampant sex!

And yet that was what it had come to. She no longer disapproved of Cliff for taking advantage of her alcoholic position to lick her between her legs. Indeed, the very thought made her loins tingle crazily. Nor was she angry with Viola for allowing Randy to do the same thing with her. After all, Viola was her beloved friend.

She smiled to herself as she considered the wild scene between Viola and the German shepherd. Now, that was obscene. And yet it had been strangely exciting, to watch a mewling Viola being fucked by a rampaging dog. Sally even found herself half wondering what it was like...

All this ran through her head in the short moments it took to free Randy. She slipped the black leather belt off his wrists, he rubbed them and then, without giving her so much as a nod, ran up to the first boy he saw and knocked him flat with a punch in the face.

Cliff held the gun on the gang while Randy went to each youth in turn, punching away. When he reached Marlon, Shep growled a warning.

"Knock me down and I'll have to let him go, man," said Marlon.

Randy looked at Cliff indecisively, but Cliff only smiled. "I've got a better plan for these aborigines, Randy. Why don't you step aside?"

Randy sat down on the couch, his hands dangling loosely between his legs. Everybody's eyes were focused on Cliff. Viola had come out at the top of the stairs and was gazing downward with a strange, fixated stare.

"All right," said Cliff firmly, "you three guys in leather jackets. Take them off and drop them in a pile." When they hesitated, he waved the gun angrily. "Be quick, you sons of bitches, or I'll blow your guts out! And no jury will ever convict me."

The boys did as they were told. Marlon was still holding Shep in firm check.

"All right. Now take off your shoes, pants, and underwear."

The boys bit their lips and looked all sobby, but they did as they were told.

"We're going to catch cold, man."

Cliff laughed, looking over at Randy, who smiled wanly. Then Cliffs face soured. "Either that way or with a hole in your guts," he said. "Which is it going to be?"

Now the gang was all stripped from the waist down, while three of them Marlon, Red and Blackie were completely naked. And they were shivering. A cold night wind seemed to have come up from somewhere.

Cliff went over to an end table and picked up a cigarette. Sally came up and lit it for him, still so ashamed and embarrassed that she didn't dare look him in the eye. She glanced over at Randy. Would he ever again speak to her? He must be totally disgusted.

"What now, man?" asked Marlon.

Cliff gestured with the gun. "Now nothing, man. You're free to go."

"What?" Randy exploded.

"We'll thrash this out later," Cliff told him.

"Over my dead body," protested Randy. "These bastards belong in jail."

"What about our clothes, man," whined Red. "We'll catch our death of cold out there."

Cliff shrugged. "Tough." Then his face toughened. He waved the gun again. "Okay get going!" He looked at his watch. "If you're not all out those doors in sixty sexonds, I'm going to start shooting. And like I say, no jury will ever convict me. And boss man " He indicated Marlon, " gets it in the balls first."

There was a rush for the door, Marlon in the lead and dragging Shep after him. The boys got partly stuck in the door, then squeezed out in masse and raced for their bikes. Viola trotted downstairs and the two couples went to the window to watch them go.

Suddenly Cliff and Randy began laughing. They put their arms around each other and slapped each other's backs. "Christ, they look funny!" Randy yelled. The gang was totally naked at least from the waist down, their flaccid penises dangling in the cool night, their testicles bouncing on the frigid leather seats. Shep was sitting up in back of Marlon strapped to his back, his forepaws on Marlon's shoulders and his tongue dangling out. There was something about the entire scene so irrepressibly funny that Viola and Sally, their arms now around each other's waist, could not resist laughing out loud, albeit with their hands over their mouths.

Cliff looked at Randy. "Well, what do you say?"

Randy nodded. He shook Cliffs hand warmly. "I'd say that you were smarter than me. I'd have shot the sons of bitches and made a lengthy court case out of it that would have totally ruined our lives."

Then the two men turned and looked at their wives. Viola and Sally looked sheepishly away, then separated. Viola went upstairs, slowly, her head cast down, while Sally went around the room picking up the remainder of her things a cigarette case, a lighter, her brown leatherette purse she had bought in Mexico the previous summer. Her face had an absent, self-conscious look. The roar of seven motorcycles echoed through the still night air as the gang rode off. Then Sally went into the kitchen and out the back door, not saying anything, and across the patio and through the small green separation that led to the Parker property. She went into her house through the back door and closed the door behind her.

Randy and Cliff stood by the Mathis front window talking for several minutes in low, serious tones. Cliff offered Randy a cigarette and smoked thoughtfully. "I think we might owe those boys a little something," he said after a minute.

Randy looked at him significantly. Then he looked around to see if anyone was listening. "I don't know," he said after a bit, "these last few minutes I've probably been thinking the same thing you are."

Cliff nodded. "Sure. I've got a hard-on, what about you?"

"like a keg of dynamite," said Randy with a small, slow smile. His eyes lidded over and he looked thoughtful. "It was agonizing, but I have to admit that when Sally was getting it from those three guys I really had a hard-on the whole time that could have been used as a steam drill bit to break out concrete curbs. But what about you? Didn't it bother you when Viola got it from that animal?"

Cliff shrugged. "Sure it did. At first. But then I realized that I had an erection and that it was getting me all excited. And you have to admit that that scene with Sally and the three Devil's Angels was terrific."

Randy smiled. He took a drag on his cigarette and let the smoke curl out slowly. "She seemed to like it so well, too," he said thoughtfully, after a pause.

Cliff tossed his head sourly. "Well, you have to admit it was a pretty difficult situation for a grown woman to find herself in. That was one hell of a lot of titillation she had to put up with. I would say that her self-control was good, considering."

"Considering what?"

"Considering that she probably liked it," Cliff chuckled. After a minute Randy joined him with a slow, quiet smile.

'Then what do you propose we do?"

"I don't know." Cliff curled his lips and threw the revolver onto the couch after removing the six bullets. "I've been giving that matter a lot of thought." He looked at Randy. "This business is kind of funny, in a way. You see, I half suspected that you and Viola were up to no good--. "

"We were."

"Oh? Well, fair enough, because I did something with Sally that maybe I should have been ashamed of. But the coming of this gang has kind of cleared the air in a way, and made our other hang-ups seem rather pale by comparison. I probably shouldn't tell you this but Viola and I haven't been getting along too well sexually for some time."

Randy frowned. "And Sally was the worst goddamned prude you ever saw until those three maniacs made her lose her head." He shrugged. "Of course, it remains to be seen how all this will affect her permanently."

Cliff sighed. "Well, it's a relief anyway to see that we can preserve such equanimity in the face of what would ordinarily be considered a calamity." He looked up the stairs toward his bedroom. "Well, maybe I'd better go upstairs and see how Viola is taking it. She looked pretty distraught. You'd better see to Sally."

"Right."

Cliff took the stairs two at a time, and Randy went out through the back door and across the patio toward his darkened house.

Viola had been lying there naked in their big king-size bed for some time, her fingers coursing thoughtfully through her jet black pubic hair, occasionally running a curl in her fingers, or slipping her fingers into the soft wet lips of her cunt. One long arm was thrown back of her head, resting in the lengthy curls of her black hair.

Her mind had been running completely over the events of the day and everything that had happened.

First, Randy had eaten her and finally given her an orgasm so exquisite she'd thought she must be dying. Then there had been the lasciviously exciting business of having her clothes ripped off and being forced to watch Sally being fucked from behind by that big blonde boy. After that the dog had arrived-

She squinted up her eyes as she considered and tried to remember the slithery feel of that slimy pink animal penis entering her vaginal chambers. The thing itself had been too thin to impart much sensation compared to Cliffs husky thick cock, but what had been most exciting was the desperate quality of the obscene act and the lewd feel of the dog's forepaws on her back. Nor had its panting in her ears been unexciting, either. There had been something fearfully illicit altogether and consequently exciting about the thought that one's lover was wagging its tail. She wasn't ashamed to admit to herself that she had totally lost herself, lost her head and her flesh in that obscene, convulsing passion. There was probably something, she thought now, in all of those legends of half-man, half-beast satyrs in human mythology. She wondered idly, twisting a long black curl, how many other woman and girls had savored such a relationship since the beginning of mankind. There may have been quite a few. No doubt in earlier times, when mankind was closer to bestiality, there had been more than there would today. Nonetheless she expected that she was not alone. That dog had had some experience with women, and the whole gang had known it. The German shepherd had known just what to do, exactly where to look for the wet fleshy channel between her legs. It had mounted her as if it was used to her contours, as if it had mounted many women before. Viola shuddered. Nor would she probably be the last.

Still, even with the speed of that fucking, and the sheer lasciviousness of it, she didn't feel as if a dog could ever be a substitute for a man's cock. A man's was thicker, and besides which men had imagination and knew how to love a woman in many different ways. With a dog, sex would always be the same from time to time.

She shook out her long black hair, got up and went to her dressing table. Looking at her voluptuous, undeniably beautiful reflection in the mirror, she cupped her enormous breasts in her hands and pressed them together. That was what men wanted, she thought, tits.

She shook out her hair again. There could be no question that she was a desirable, so how was it that sex had soured between herself and Cliff? Could it be that she had been too much of a prude, that she had not been aggressive enough? She should have forced him to make love if he was distracted by his problems. A woman should always be able to find a way. After all, there was no penis so soft that it wouldn't harden under a woman's lips.

Which regenerated the vision of Sally sucking so desperately on that dark boy's long thick penis, with it passing obscenely in and out of her full, pouty red lips. While one lad fornicated her rectum and another jiggled his penis around in the dripping clutch of her vagina.

Lord that had been intoxicating, she thought, brushing out her long dark hair. Her desire had escalated wildly watching Sally being raped three ways, and her slit had been a veritable flood of sex-juice. It had been all she could to do keep from grabbing the penis of the boy who had been lying with his head in her crotch. Being fucked by a dog and liking it was one thing, but being turned on as a voyeur was quite another.

After combing out her hair, she applied her lipstick, using the reddest she could find and making her mouth a large, wet oval. She didn't blot her lips, so that her mouth was red and waxy like a whore's. Then she attached some rosiness as well to her nipples and areolas, making them large and unnaturally red.

My God, I'm turned on tonight, she thought, gulping, and she opened a bottle of olive oil, poured a little in her palm and rubbed her palm into her belly. She closed her eyes and let her head roll back, her mouth parted slightly, her tongue licking at her bright red lips. Then for no particular reason she applied some of the olive oil to her hair, so that it clung to her neck and shoulders. She opened her eyes and looked at her magnificent body. It was shining now as if she had been dipped in honey. She smiled to herself and rummaged through her makeup again, found what she wanted, and began applying indigo to her eyelids. With some black on her eyelashes to make them long and sexy, her eyes now appeared to have turned almost purple.

My Jesus, she thought, I'm the sexiest thing I ever saw. She moved her naked legs slightly and felt the heated tingle expanding between them.

And then came the voice: "You look like an Indian girl," behind her.

Viola looked into the mirror and smiled at Cliff, her husband. She knew what he was seeing. All about her skin and hair was a sense of freedom and moist heat as if her whole body was breathing freely and soaked in the dew of its own breath. Her vaginal slit felt as if it were on fire with one of those muscle-relaxing ointments.

She turned around and faced him. He had come up close behind her, so that her lips were almost on a level with the most unseemly bulge in his crotch. She looked up at him and fluttered her long dark eyelashes. Then her hand came up and grabbed that bulge. "Darling," she cooed, "you were magnificent tonight."

He looked at her puzzled.

"I mean, the way you threw those boys out." She nuzzled her nose and lips against his protruding erection. "I can't remember when I've seen a man more manly than you."

Cliff blinked. It hadn't occurred to him that he had done anything special, but maybe she was right. Anyway, it didn't hurt anything to accept her admiration for whatever it was worth, at face value. He pushed his fingers into her long black hair, which seemed now to be exotically scented. As he did this, her fingers worked furiously at the zipper on his trousers. She reached in, then, and through the slot in his briefs to grip his long thick sexual member and draw it out. Then, before he knew what was happening, the soft lip stick painted surfaces of her bright red lips were rolling over his rigid penis, caressing the glans cap and moving smoothly down the entire stem until her nose was buried in his pubic hair...

Viola had never in all their married life ever sucked him off, and he was really amazed that she could take in all of his eight inches right down to the bottom of her throat. Her movement took him quite by surprise, and he watched with unbelieving delight as the snug ovals of her sensuously full mouth moved so wetly over the tightly stretched skin of his penis. He had never dreamed he'd see the day when Viola would ever suck on his cock, but she was doing so now ... and beautifully. His eyes rolled backward in his head and his loins pressed forward, his fingers moving down the side of her lovely face to caress her suck-hollowing cheeks.

She was using her tongue ardently now, slowly at first, then she could feel it swiping around him, making his penis dance like a puppet on string, jerking with each fresh thrill. Cliff felt as if his balls were cauldrons bubbling with hot oil. A thin copper wire was electrifying him all the entire length of his prickling penis. Her lips were wonderfully soft and smooth, enclosing him like a snug elastic ring, surrounding his prick with the hot moist warmth of her saliva and the tender inner flesh of her tongue. He pressed his hands to either side of her hollowing face and pressed inward, feeling his fingers bump his cock through her elastic cheeks.

Now she was sucking with a moist, nibbling pressure and her tongue licked and curled around him as if she had done this thousands of times before. His sex-crazed mind could scarcely wonder where she had learned it. His testicles were throbbing as if they were filled with gunpowder. All the hunger of her vagina was now concentrated within her cock-filled mouth. Cliff groaned and began moaning obscene imprecations which only served to excite her more. He yearned desperately to cum and watch her swallow his spunk, and she wanted it just as much, to feel that hot spermy liquid spilling down her throat and over her jaws and dripping down her chin onto her neck.

He flexed his loins in and out of her open lips and groaned with every fierce, soul-dissolving suck. His drugged mind saw her open mouth as if it were a cunt, hot and filled with heated love-juice, undulating vagina walls caressing his manful organ as it plunged in and out. His every nerve ending seemed to be located only within those savagely sucking jaws and nowhere else in his entire body. He felt as if his aching loins were burning up in the heat of their own lust as his glistening penis disappeared into her ardent saliva-filled mouth.

She buried her face in his loins with each lewd downstroke, nuzzling her nose in his thick pubic hair. Cliff groaned and held her head closer, then moved it back. His balls slapped against her chin as she worked him over, and the pressure was becoming excruciating and unbearable. He felt as if his cock was the Empire State Building, filled with gelignite right to the top floor and ready to go nova.

And then, all of a sudden, Cliff began jerking and panting out of breath, gasping obscenities and flailing at her hair as his loins came boiling over, spitting hot white sperm the entire length of his penis and into her throat, so that Viola gagged violently, swallowed, and struggled desperately to absorb the overflow. He gripped her head more tightly and shoved his cock as deeply as he could into her tonsils. She gagged again and his sticky white cum burst through the elastic sides of her mouth, spilling over her face and his glistening, vein-ridged penis. She groaned as his fiery thick liquid spurted into her ecstatic jaws, bloating her cheeks until she thought she would burst. Her mouth worked gluttonously, swallowing fast and sputtering up the excess to keep from choking on the sticky milky semen as his testicles pumped relentlessly along the sperm-ridge beneath his cock, emptying his entire load into her starving throat.

Cliffs body shuddered and trembled as the last of his masculine juice drained from his rapidly deflating organ. He tangled his fingers in her thick hair and groaned out the last of his staccato-like climax. But she would not let him remove his exhausted cock from her earnest lips. Instead she nibbled and licked until every last trace of cum had been devoured or dripped down her chin and caked up elsewhere. Then she finally let it slip out, a thin string of milky sperm joining their mouth-cock connection. Her eyelids fluttered and she looked up at him adoringly. Her eyes were glazed over and smoky, with purplish, desire-drugged pupils.

"Fuck me," she croaked.

Cliff whooshed a swift intake of breath. "Well," he muttered dazedly, partly in amazement as he watched his penis gradually elongating again without any outside encouragement whatever, "it certainly looks as if there are going to be some changes around here."

And then there was a heart-stopping knock at the door.