Chapter 6
Sandy Treeman climbed into the back seat of the yellow cab and told the driver to take her to the Plaza Hotel. She leaned back in her seat as the taxi pulled away from the curb and headed into town. She had tried all morning to reach Brenda on the phone, but she had been unable to get her. She's either not answering her phone or she's tied up in some convention meeting, she thought. Either way, Sandy was tired of waiting. She wanted to get Brenda out of the hotel and back to that hick town she had come from. Charles Stern was too much of a man to be wasted on Brenda and if she had read him right the night before-and she was seldom wrong when it came to figuring out men-he wanted to develop a relationship with her that would last longer than a quick fling. He had tried to hide his feelings by the way he had acted, but she hadn't been fooled.
Sandy also wasn't fooling herself. If she was going to make any progress toward winning Charles Stern over for herself, she would have to get Brenda out of town or somehow discredit her in his eyes. Sandy opened her handbag and took out a cigarette and lit it. Discrediting Brenda might be more practical than talking her into going back home. Charles Stern seemed to be quite a traveler. It wouldn't seem like an obstacle to him to go to another town to find someone he wanted to see. What she had to do was fix it so he wouldn't want to look her up.
When the taxi pulled up in front of the Plaza Hotel, she still hadn't decided exactly how she was going to go about accomplishing her goal, but she knew that something would come up. She paid the driver and hurried into the lobby. She rode the elevator up to the third floor and walked down to Brenda's room. She hadn't really expected her to be there, but Brenda's voice responded almost immediately to her knock.
"Who is it?"
She sounded like she had been crying. "It's me. Sandy Treeman."
The door opened and Brenda stepped back to let her in. Her eyes were red and she wore only a thin robe clutched around her. "Thank God it's you," she said, wiping her nose with a Kleenex. And then she burst into tears and rushed into Sandy's arms like a scared child. Sandy found herself in the position of comforter, whether she wanted it or not.
"For God's sake, what's wrong?" Sandy asked, patting her hair and holding her until she had calmed down enough to talk.
"It's Rifter," Brenda sniffed, stepping back, embarrassed now.
"Who's Rifter?"
"I'm not sure. I think he works for Charles Stern once in a while."
Sandy looked around the room. The bed was unmade and the air had a staleness to it that depressed her. "Well, the first thing we're going to do is get you dressed and get out of this room. Have you had lunch yet?"
Brenda shook her head. "I wasn't hungry. Sandy, I've got to talk to you."
Sandy walked over to the closet and opened it. "Fine but first get dressed and let's go down to the coffee shop. You can tell me all about it over a ham sandwich."
Reluctantly, Brenda agreed. But by the time they were sitting across from each other in the hotel coffee shop and Brenda had finished a cup of hot coffee, she agreed that it had been a good idea to get out of her room to talk. She felt much better now that Sandy was there. "What did you find out about Charles Stern? Don't you agree that he's capable of hypnotizing someone, like I said?"
Sandy nodded. "Possible." She wasn't sure what tact to take yet. "But what was it you wanted to tell me so bad about upstairs?"
Brenda hesitated now, unsure of how to word it or whether she even should say anything, but then her need to tell overcame her hesitancy and she related to Sandy everything that had happened to her since seeing Sandy the evening before. When she was through talking, she couldn't look at Sandy. Somehow when she said what had happened out loud, it seemed different than when it was actually happening. She found it hard to believe herself that it had happened just the way she said it had.
"That's some story," Sandy said, whistling. "What does this Rifter look like?"
Brenda told her. "Why? Do you know him?"
"I thought I might at first," Sandy lied. "But I guess not."
If Rifter was the person she thought he was, he certainly didn't work for Charles Stern-at least, not on a full time basis. He might do odd jobs for him once in a while, but that would be about all because the Rifter she knew was nothing but a pimp. She didn't like pimps. She didn't have one and she never would. She was disappointed to think that Charles Stern would use the services of a pimp, but if he did, she was sure that he wouldn't use him to get girls for himself. Maybe he used Rifter to line up entertainment for clients or something.
"If you didn't want Rifter doing that to you, why didn't you scream or something? Anybody could have heard you through those walls."
Brenda looked away. "I was afraid Charles would find out," she said.
"Charles?"
"I mean Ross. Oh, my God, what am I saying. I mean Ross."
Sandy smiled to herself. A Freudian slip? It was becoming more important than she had at first realized to discredit Brenda in Charles' eyes.
"Maybe I can help you get over the hold Charles Stern has on you," she said, carefully weighing her words, making a plan in her mind as she went along.
"Oh, would you, Sandy?" Brenda reached out and grasped her friend's hands. "I don't know what to do. I'm afraid to go home with this unsettled and I'm afraid to stay here. I can't concentrate on the convention or anything else." She started to cry again and quickly opened her purse and pulled out another Kleenex. She blew her nose and looked up at her companion. "I don't know what I'd do without you. You've been so helpful."
Sandy smiled. "Don't worry, kid. I'll fix you up."
Before she went up to Rifter's suite, Sandy tried again to reach Charles Stern by telephone, but each time the phone was answered by Frank, who told her that Mr. Stern had gone out on a business trip early that morning and wasn't scheduled to be back till late that night. She wasn't sure if Frank was telling her the truth or brushing her off. It didn't matter. If she had to, she would get back in to see him the same way she had the first time.
Now standing outside Rifter's suite, she adjusted her nylons, took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It was answered by a beautiful ebony-skinned girl whose eyes said she was flying very, very high on some kind of drugs.
"Yeah. What do you want?" she said.
"Get the hell away from that door," a voice from inside shouted. The girl was pushed aside roughly and Rifter took her place. When he saw her, his eyes turned lustful and he stared her up and down before asking what she wanted.
"A business proposition," she said.
"What kind of business?"
"Fucking!"
Rifter didn't bat an eye. "Interesting business. You giving or taking?"
"It works both ways."
Rifter smiled. "You sound like my kind of broad." He stepped back out of her way. "Come on in." He led the way to a back room obviously used as an office. "Sit down," he said, indicating to a chair near the window. "If you want to get fucked I'll take care of you for free." He sat on the corner of his desk, leering down at her. "I'm a little bit tired right now, but I've still got enough meat here to take care of you." He grabbed his crotch lewdly.
Sandy opened her purse and took out a cigarette. "Keep your tiny prick to yourself. You'll have to content yourself with raping little girls." She smiled and lit her cigarette, leaning back.
Rifter came off the desk in one, swift, fluid motion, the back of his hand smashing against her jaw, knocking her cigarette across the room and bringing stars to her eyes. She squeezed her eyes closed until the dizziness in her head cleared. When she opened her eyes again, Rifter was walking back from the other side of the room with her cigarette in his fingers. He squashed it out in an ashtray. "Want to try a second round?"
She braced herself in her chair. Maybe she had underestimated him. She accepted the drink he poured her and took a long swallow before she risked speaking again.
"You win the first round," she said.
"I win all of the rounds all of the time," he replied. "Now state your business."
She did. She told him in minute sensuous detail. She out-lined the entire vulgar plan and, as she talked, she saw his eyes turn lustful and greedy. His hand reached down and squeezed his crotch absentmindedly while she talked. And when she had finished he looked at her in awe.
"You are the most evil bitch I've ever run across," he said.
"You're not interested?"
"Interested. I'm delighted. It will be a pleasure." He held out his hand and they shook solemnly. He kept her hand squeezed in his after their shake. "I think we need more than a hand shake to seal this kind of a deal," he said.
She tried to pull her hand away, but he tightened his grip. "There's plenty of time for what you have in mind later."
He shook his head, spreading his legs, and pulled her hand toward his crotch. "I could use a little action just to make sure you're prepared to keep your end of the ... 'orgy,' shall we call it?"
Making it with an evil son of a bitch like Rifter wasn't her idea of fun, but she didn't see anyway out of it. She needed him because it wouldn't work if she attempted to set the whole thing up herself. She shrugged her shoulders. "Why not?"
Rifter smiled and turned his head, yelling over his shoulder. "Betty Jean, get your black ass in here."
A moment later, the girl Sandy had seen at the door peeked into the room. "You want me, Rifter?"
"Yeah, get in here and take off your clothes."
"Aw, Rifter, I've been out twice already today."
"Yeah, well you're going to be out on the floor if you don't hurry up and do what I tell you."
She didn't say anything else, but started removing her clothes and tossing them on a chair against the wall. She had been wearing a sweater and skirt, with nothing on underneath at all. When she had finished undressing, she stood as though in a daze in the middle of the room, her legs spread and her hands hanging limply at her sides.
Sandy thought she was a beautiful girl, but it wouldn't be long before the drugs she was obviously on would take their toll on her body. But now her breasts, while small, stood straight out from her body like pointed chocolate cones. Her pubic hair was completely shaven, leaving her dark pussy lips clean and delectable.
Rifter leaned back on the desk, his legs spread, and pointed at his crotch. "Get down here and blow my cock up nice and stiff."
She didn't even question him. Obviously it was a task she was used to performing. She crossed the room and reached down with her hands and unzipped his fly. Reaching in with one hand, she pulled his flaccid penis and balls out of his pants. Kneeling down in front of him, she circled his cock with her lips, tasting the staleness of sex still lingering from earlier. She bathed the under side of his soft head with her tongue, feeling it begin to grow to life in her mouth as the blood pumped hotly into it. She sucked on it in a pumping motion, her cheeks sinking in and out like a drum skin beating a sensuous rhythm in her mind.
As they watched, she bobbed her head up and down over his crotch. She cupped his balls in her hands and milked them very gently. Her mouth began to fill with his rapidly growing cock. Moisture dripped from the corner of her mouth as a thicker and thicker shaft began to show itself between her lips.
Sandy was completely enthralled by the skillful manner in which Betty Jean brought Rifter to erection. She couldn't have done a better job herself and she considered herself an excellent professional. She began to wonder, however, what was to be her part in filling Rifter's need. It appeared to her that he already had more than he could handle.
When Betty Jean drew her mouth back and looked up for further instructions, a huge hard organ, dripping with lubrication, stood out like a lance from Rifter's crotch. "It's your turn now," he said, turning his attention to Sandy. "Stand up and lean over the back of that chair."
Sandy knew that the best thing for her to do would be to obey him as quickly as she could. Otherwise he might start getting rough again, besides which, if she let herself, she could enjoy Rifter. She did as he requested.
Rifter walked over to her and lifted up her skirt, pushing it out of the way over her hips so that it bunched up around her waist. Then he hooked his fingers in the elastic band of her panties and pulled them all the way down to her ankles. She stepped out of them, expecting to feel Rifter's cock coming at her from behind next. Instead, she felt Betty Jean's hands on her hips, kneading and stroking her buttocks and thighs. She looked over her shoulder. Betty Jean knelt behind her and at a sign from Rifter, her tongue came out and began moistening Sandy's crotch.
Sandy tensed her body. She hadn't expected this and she wasn't sure that she liked it. She started to protest, but then the tongue between her legs began to do its job and she felt the beginning of response in her loins. She hesitated too long and soon she realized that she didn't want Betty Jean to stop the expert manipulations of her tongue. She rotated her hips backward against Betty Jean's face and spread her legs to more easily allow Betty Jean to reach her cunt. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips. Betty Jean really knew her job!
She heard Rifter's derisive laughter as he watched from his desk. "That's it, girls. I want to see a good show now." He began removing his clothes as Sandy gave herself up to Betty Jean's servicing. She felt her tongue slip into the valley between her buttocks, travel downward, dipping momentarily into the puckered center, and then moving onto the dampness of her pussy lips. Her tongue lathed the fleecy curls surrounding the slit-like entrance to her love nest.
Sandy reached behind her and grasped Betty Jean's head in her hands and pressed her face tighter into her crotch, feeling the added pressure of her tongue building her to greater heights of pleasure. Betty Jean's tongue flicked like expert fingers between her sensitive pink lips, separating them and dipping into the molten juices flowing from her cunt. Sandy swooned when Betty Jean located her clitoris standing hard and erect at the top of her feverish slit.
Betty Jean sucked the sensitive node into her mouth, rolling it back and forth on her tongue, tantalizing it and building it to a feverish pitch. Her teeth nibbled her lips and her tongue bathed her center, licking and sucking with a greedy hungry sound.
Pushing herself backward away from the chair, Sandy forced Betty Jean onto her back on the floor and then stretched herself over her on her hands and knees, lowering her hips above Betty Jean's face. She surprised herself with her own actions. She had never made love with a woman before, but she found she couldn't stop what she was doing. Now that she had started, she had to find fulfillment. She lowered her own face to the hairless mound of Betty Jean's sex. Sandy brushed her face over her stomach and down to her crotch. Hesitantly she stuck her tonguetip out and traced a moist line around the vee of her crotch, smelling the fragrant musty smell of sex coming to life in Betty Jean's loins. She stroked her thighs with her fingertips, caressing the smooth dark skin between Betty Jean's spread legs, feeling tremors of response as her fingers reached higher and higher up her legs until they brushed lightly over her smooth cunt. Sandy stretched Betty Jean's dark lips apart, exposing the tender center, hot and sweating with a need of its own. Her fingers dipped into the sweating orifice, probing into her private chamber with mixed curiosity and hunger. Sandy lowered her face and with her tongue, tasted the steaming nectar of her pussy.
They bathed each other's loins now with heightened need, their tongues making a slurping noise as they sucked greedily at each other's cunt. Sandy felt herself nearing a climax and she increased the frenzy of her tongue in Betty Jean's love box, but completion was to be denied her. She felt Rifter's hands on her hips and felt herself being pulled backward and away from finishing the job she had started and from being satisfied by the tongue feasting eagerly between her own legs.
"Nurse each other," Rifter ordered. "Suck each other's tits." Rifter stood above them completely nude now, his cock sticking up hard and ready like a drawn lance, his balls swinging between his legs. Rifter played with himself, keeping a slow steady rhythm of his right hand moving up and down on the shaft of his cock as he watched feverishly as they began to do his bidding and nursed at each other's breasts.
Sandy had never had her nipples brought to erection by a woman before, but she found the experience highly stimulating. And to have the soft, succulent flesh of another woman's breast in her own mouth she found even more stimulating. She cupped one of Betty Jean's small breasts in her palms and, bunching up the tender cone, licked upward from the base of the hill toward the dark nipple crowning the top. Her tongue circled slowly around Betty Jean's breast causing shudders of pleasure to escape in small gasps from Betty Jean's throat. Sandy nibbled at her tender brown skin, tasting the rich creamy texture on her tongue, working her way closer and closer to the erect nipple until her teeth circled the dark areola and she bit down gently and covered the nipple with her tongue.
Taking Betty Jean's other breast in her hands, Sandy traced a moist line with her lips down the inside of the breast she had been nursing to the valley between and up the other mound, lapping eagerly with her tongue on the new breast like she had done the first until she reached the second nipple and brought it to hardness like the first. She nursed from one breast to the other as Betty Jean's breathing became deep and sensual and her hands pulled her head against her.
Rifter meanwhile had knelt behind Sandy on the floor and reached between her legs and touched the swampy tangle of curls covering her loins. His fingertips raked a path from the top of the triangle of curls down and across the lips of her pussy and up between the cheeks of her ass. His fingers dug in hard, bruising and scratching her flesh until Sandy squirmed in an effort to ease the pain. "You're going to get fucked in your ass," he said, pressing the ball of his thumb against the brown puckered entrance to her rear. His fingertips continued to trace along the slit of her cunt, two fingers burying themselves inside her lips while his first finger and little finger moved on the outside, pressing her cuntlips together around his center fingers.
Sandy lifted her head and looked back at him. "No. Not my ass. It's too sore." She thought of the reaming out she had endured at the hands of Charles Stern the night before. She knew that she wouldn't be able to take another cock up her ass for a long time. She was sensitive and sore and definitely not ready to accommodate Rifter. "I want you in my pussy," she said.
Rifter only laughed at her and continued to play with her loins in his crude, painful way, digging his fingers even deeper into her delicate flesh than before, heedless of the contortions that Sandy underwent in an effort to make his fingers less painful. "If you want me to set up an orgy for your friend Brenda, you'll do what I say."
Sandy knew she was willing to endure a lot to get Brenda out of the way and leave her with clear sailing to capture Charles Stern, but there were limits to it. And she did not want him going in her back door. Maybe she could bring him off another way before he complained too much. She waited until she felt his cock against her rear, then she reached down between her legs with her right hand and grasped his pole in her fingers and guided it to the entrance to her cunt instead of. her ass. Rifter thrust forward and his cock, well lubricated from Betty Jean's mouth, slipped easily into the center of her pussy. Immediately he pulled it back out. "I don't want it there," he growled. "I said in your ass."
This time he held his cock in his own fingers and guided it to her tight, puckered orifice. Sandy felt his slick, bulbous head press against her rectum. She clenched her muscles against his invasion.
"No," she said, "not there." But she couldn't keep him out as he forced his cock into her with a vicious thrust of his hips, grinding his hot pole into the center of her ass with the fury of a demon. Sandy screamed against the pain. "No! Stop!" His tool tore back and forth inside her, raking and tearing against her tender inner membrane.
Betty Jean didn't stop sucking and pulling at her breasts as she tried now to get away from Rifter's penetration by crawling away, but they both had their hands on her, pulling at her, forcing her to remain squatted on her hands and knees as they satisfied themselves with her body. When she attempted to raise herself up from Betty Jean's breasts, Betty Jean gripped her hanging breasts in clenched fists and pulled her back down till her mouth covered her nipples once again. Rifter didn't ease the speed with which he honed his tool in and out of her ass.
Kicking backward with her right leg, Sandy managed to dislodge Rifter's cock long enough to roll sideways away from Betty Jean.
"Stop it," she repeated. "It hurts too much back there."
Rifter grabbed her hips and attempted to roll her back onto her stomach, but Sandy was too fast for him and scooted out of his reach across the carpet, his fingernails leaving red welts down her thighs as she pulled free. She looked at her legs. "Damn you, Rifter." She kicked at his face with her feet, attempting to stab her pointed toe into his eyes, but he blocked her aim with his right hand and drove his left fist at her exposed cunt. His fist struck her high, barely clipping the matted hair covering her mound, and skidded across her tensed stomach muscles to explode into her breast.
Sandy couldn't get her breath. The spot between her breast felt as though she was being scalded over a fire. Pushing herself further away from him with her elbows, Sandy aimed her toes threateningly at his eyes. On his knees, he held back, watchful, his fists clenched. Should she go all the way to keep him from fucking her ass ? If she did, she would only have one chance. She realized she would have to go for his balls. But if she missed, she was afraid of the consequences. She knew she had to try, though.
She feigned with her right foot, jabbing it up toward his eyes, and then lashed out with all the fury and strength she could muster with her left foot, toes curled back, aiming savagely at his balls as they swung like two unprotected self-destruct explosives wired to his body. All she need do was make contact with that first, deadly kick and he would be huddled up on the floor at her feet, screaming and helpless. She would be able to do anything she wanted with him. She could stick a light bulb up his ass and he wouldn't be able to do anything to stop her. And then she could leave if she wanted to. But if all that did happen, she could kiss any chance of him organizing the trap to get rid of Brenda. Concerned with the consequences of an accurate aim, Sandy attempted to halt her foot halfway in her kick. She couldn't stop her foot, but instead of the deadly contact she had originally planned, her toes struck his balls in a glancing blow that, while doubling him up momentarily, didn't put him out of commission very long. And when he pushed himself back to his knees and she saw the grimace combined with anger in his eyes, Sandy knew she had made a mistake that she was now going to have to pay for.
When he reached over, grabbed his trousers, and ripped his wide leather belt free, Betty Jean scrambled across the room out of the way of Rifter's fury, leaving Sandy to face him alone. She pressed her lips together and clenched her fists, but when the belt lashed out hotly, nipping away at her legs and body, there was little that she could do other than endure the pain, taking lash after lash until Rifter had tired himself and expended his anger.
"I don't like teasers," he snarled, his chest heaving from his exertion. "When you play in my ball game, you play the way I tell you."
Sandy didn't trust herself yet to reply. She fought to keep her voice under control, refusing to cry out, being the only means she had left to defy him. Yet something kept her from carrying that too far as well. When Rifter acted his cruelest, she found him the most stimulating. It was that same feeling of submission that she had found attractive in Charles Stern the night before. Now she found herself again, hot and sweating between her legs with that familiar building of tension that demanded to be gratified.
When he grabbed her ankle and pulled her closer to him, his free hand drawn back, palm out, she didn't protect herself as well as she could have. He slapped her face twice, hard. Then he began working on her body, slapping first her breasts and stomach, then her arms when they got in his way. She fought back only hard enough to keep him interested. And when she could take no more, she moved in close and circled his hips with her thighs, her hands going to his cock and guiding it into her hot vulva.
Rifter allowed her to think for a moment that she had won. He leaned forward and lunged his throbbing pole into her with all the angry strength he could muster. And when he felt himself drawing to a climax, he stopped plunging his dagger-like phallus into her cunt and leaned heavily against her, bruising her with his weight.
"You're going to get your ass flooded with my cum whether you like it or not," he vowed, his fingers digging into her tender thighs and lifting her weight easily into the air. He bent her legs upward until her knees were pressed almost to her chin, lifting and separating the cheeks of her ass to his unsatisfied lust.
Sandy felt his knob again at the puckered eye of her anus. Desperately she churned her hips in a circular motion in a futile attempt to avoid his darting organ. His angry penis stabbed wetly into the crease of her ass, sliding along the groove, desperately attempting to bury itself in her hot rear as she struggled to avoid the pain of penetration.
Combined with anger and determination, Rifter reached the end of his patience. Savagely now, he twisted Sandy's arms behind her back and mashed her knees tightly against her shoulders with his upper arms and, at the same time, gouging his elbows into her hips for stability, he poked carefully with the feverish, swollen head of his cock until he located her quivering rear entrance. Then with one mighty thrust, rammed his organ home, skewering his lance into her hole with bull's-eye accuracy.
Sandy screamed out in protest as pain filled her rectum like a burning club being jammed again and again into her sensitive anal cavity. She struggled to pull her hands free from his maniacal grip and to unpin her lower body from his searing flesh, holding her captive like a bug on a pin. His strength was too much for her, however, and she was completely helpless in his arms-the exact opposite of the condition she had hoped for when she made the decision to strike out at his balls. When he lowered his head and began biting her breasts, Sandy felt like a helpless animal being ravished by a beast. She loved it. She spat filthy names into his ear, calling him all of the perverted things she could think of, but now her legs were wrapped around him so tightly that he couldn't have deprived her of his punishing cock had he tried to withold it. He thrust again and again into her body, and with each thrust, Sandy pulled him even deeper with her legs.
Now that there appeared to be no danger to herself, Betty Jean ventured out of her corner and crawled slowly across the room till she squatted beside them. She felt left out somehow and mischievously looked around for some way to participate. As she watched them, her right hand slipped between her legs to the smooth mound of her own loins. Her fingers separated her hairless lips and dipped inside to stroke the moist, rigid button buried sheath-like at the top of her gaping slit. With her left hand she reached into the tangle of their legs to the pumping union of their sexes. She found the sack containing Rifter's bloated balls and hefted it in her palms, her fingers separating his sensitive globes and rolling them carefully between her fingertips. She traced a line up from his scrotum to the base of his glistening shaft as it continued to dart in and out of the dark forbidden hole of Sandy's ass.
She felt the slickness of his cock between her fingertips and impishly pressed her nails, catlike, into his sensitive skin as it shot back and forth across her claws. Rifter was too lost in the delirium of his own sexual need for the punishment of his organ to register in his mind as anything other than pleasure. Carried away by the sensual urging of her own sex, Betty Jean increased the area of her slashing claws, raking upward savagely into his balls and crisscrossing thin red lines on his buttocks and thighs, while with her right hand she worked feverishly at her own cunt, stabbing her fingers deeply inside and drawing them back out over her clitoris in a feverish burst of speed and need.
Betty Jean brought herself quickly to the point of climax. Her fingertips caressed her clitoris until it danced rigidly in its sheath like a jumping flame, ready to ignite her entire body. She slowed the movement of her hand, tantalizing her nerve endings and bringing herself, tense and panting, to the edge of eruption. With a savage upward slash of her knifelike nails against Rifter's hanging balls, Betty Jean hurled herself into violent, body-wrenching orgasm. And as Rifter's balls slammed into his ass with a loud slapping sound, Betty Jean screamed herself into a tightly huddled ball, her arms squeezed between her stomach and thighs, while her hands clawed demandingly at her cunt.
"Ooooohhhhh," she panted.
As Betty Jean quivered frenzidly against them, Sandy felt fire explode into her like a molten eruption as Rifter's body sprang forward, burrowing his cock into her anus deeper than ever before, as his balls slapped his ass and were whipped back and forth like ricocheting bullets. Cum shot into Sandy's ass, load after load of white viscous fluid. Pouring into her slurping rectum, filling her bowels, Rifter's balls dislodged their venomous mixture deeply into his promised target. They clutched and cursed each other in orgasm. Their bodies twisted and heaved on the carpet like two entwined snakes, tongues forked and stabbing, eyes piercing, fangs exposed.
And finally they were through. They lay exhausted on the carpet, spent. Betty Jean rolled away first. Pushing herself up slowly to a sitting position, hesitating, breathing deeply, sighing, she then crawled on her knees across the room to her purse where she found a cigarette and lit it. She looked back at them a little foolishly, as though she had done something she was afraid they wouldn't like. But they didn't pay any attention to her. They were wrapped up in their own emotions, still entwined in each other's arms, hissing their final release from need.
Sandy held Rifter's cock in her ass until she felt his proud organ grow slowly soft, shrinking inside of her like an exhausted warrior. She groaned like a wounded animal, letting him think he had hurt her, keeping her voice low, almost purr-like. He became soft for only a moment, holding her and listening to her submissive purr, then he pushed her away and sat up. She pushed her blonde hair back from her eyes and looked at him, smiling.
"You were fair, Rifter. But I've had better." She looked away and feigned a yawn.
Rifter snorted at her like a bull and stood up. Keeping his back to her, he walked over to his desk and collected his clothes. Sandy sat up and rested her weight on her elbows as she watched him get dressed. She relaxed and allowed the afterglow of sex to sweep through her like a true winner. She had definitely gained by the experience with Rifter. And besides that, she was sure she hadn't lost his agreement to set up a trap for Brenda.
"If that's a sample of what you have in mind for Miss Martin, I hope you'll make better arrangements. If she's going to be convinced of what I want her to, she's going to have to be raped a hell of a lot more convincingly than that." Sandy shifted her weight over to her right elbow, drew up her left leg and rested her left hand between her thighs. She smoothed her fingers over the cum-flooded forest of curls covering her cunt. "Is that the best you can do?" She feigned another yawn.
Rifter called her a few choice words. "You're lucky I went easy on you." He sat back on his desk, staring directly into the center of her spread legs. She continued lewdly displaying herself to him, her fingers smearing the cum seeping from her ravaged anus up to her pouting pussylips. "You're also lucky I like you." He smiled. "Otherwise I might have made just one big hole out of the two little holes you're playing with now."
She returned his smile. "Would you do that to me, Rifter ?" She trailed wet fingers up her stomach to her breasts. She circled her nipples, basting the pink tips with his viscous cum. "You don't have the balls, lover." Her nipples glistened. "Are you sure she'll know she's been raped when it's over with?"
"She'll know."
"Tell me what you have in mind. Surely you're not going to rape her yourself?"
Rifter looked at Betty Jean for the first time. "Why don't you take a walk or something?" She was learning to be told only once. She scooped up her purse and dress and marched out the door. She glanced back once over her shoulder at Sandy, but her face was blank, unreadable. Sandy found herself wondering what evil scheme Rifter used to keep her in line so well. Drugs was the most likely answer.
Rifter waited until Betty Jean closed the door, then he turned back to Sandy. "All you have to do is pay me the money. I'll arrange to have it done." He picked up a letter opener from his desk and twirled it between his fingers. He didn't know for what reason she wanted him to arrange to have her girl friend raped, but he had an idea how he could kill two birds....If he planned things well enough, he could possibly gain more out of this than he would get in hard cash from Sandy. It wouldn't be that hard. All he would have to do would be to trick Frank into thinking this Brenda Martin was some kind of kook who liked to be raped. And if Charles Stern was as attached to Brenda as Sandy indicated he was, then he wouldn't take it lightly if he found out that his personal secretary had raped his girl. Maybe he would even fire Frank. A vacancy he might be able to slide into himself. The only problem would be to convince Frank that Brenda wanted him to go through the motions of raping her and to make it look real. To do that, he would need Sandy's cooperation.
He tossed the letter opener on the desk and stood up. "You're going to have to do one more thing first." When he told her what it was, she smiled, her eyes almost as vicious as his own. "Write your address down," he said, tossing her a pad and pen. "And be sure that you stay home alone tonight. I'll bring a visitor. Make sure you don't screw it up."