Chapter 1
They had met at a party that the senior partner in the firm had thrown for Dr. John Simmons, professor and old friend. Jill still remembered the first time she had seen her future husband-and marriage at that hour was the farthest thing from her mind. He was tall and thin and held a rather professorial demeanor with the pipe and the heavy eyebrows.
"May I freshen your drink, Miss?" he had said to her first. He had said it with the same tone perhaps as he would have said, "I think I shall marry you, my dear." They left the party together later and it was to be the beginning of a constant pairing. He explained as they rode to his apartment that he was on sabbatical leave, was staying in the city for a year to finish a historical book he was writing. She was used to chit-chat from the girls in the secretarial pool and smooth lines from the men, and now she didn't quite know how to even carry on small talk with him.
And to her surprise he had not even tried to make love to her that first time. She found herself curiously stimulated by him and frustrated at the same time. He talked very calmly, fixed her a drink, and just sat looking at her with an even smile. He took her hand and stroked it gently once and asked her to tell about herself. And she had talked then, for hours it seemed. The drinks were getting her a bit more than tipsy. She found herself wanting to be caressed, handled by this strange man; a fire had been kindled inside her loins, just by his coolness.
"What's with you?" she asked finally. "Don't you want to make love to me? Don't you want to undress me? Don't you want to see my body?"
"Not at the moment," he smiled.
"I don't think I like you," she snapped.
"Yes you do."
Openly she ran her hands down her sleek sides and around the swell of her breasts. God, she was aching. Never had she been treated this way by a man. A tease, she thought. That's what he is, a goddamn cunt tease. He's probably impotent. She had heard about these strange, perverted-type intellectuals. Maybe he was just playing perverted games with her.
"Would you call me a cab?" she asked. "I think I need to go home now."
"Certainly," he nodded. "But come back again tomorrow night, would you?"
"No. I don't want to. You make me nervous."
"Yes, come back tomorrow."
"I won't," she shook her head.
And the next night, a weekend starting, she refused to think about it until she found herself hailing a taxi for his apartment. As she rang his bell she told herself that she had come again just out of curiosity. He opened the door and she saw the same calm smile and the sedate expression, the pipe there in his strong mouth as usual.
"Do you like Chinese food?" he asked. "I've cooked up something special for you. Take off your shoes."
Some tinkling Oriental music was playing and a faint odor of incense was about the room; he fixed her a drink that she had never had before; it was strong and warmed her up completely. He seated her beside a very low table and served several dishes of meat and vegetables prepared in the most delicious manner she had ever tasted. She consumed several glasses of the strong drink, and later he moved beside her, lighting his pipe.
"What are you thinking, my dear?" he asked.
"You're so ... so different..."
"Not really."
"Please, do something," she muttered. "Don't you want to make love to me?"
"Very well."
Very meticulously he took her into the bedroom and took off her clothes. She was inebriated completely-both by the drink and the strangeness in all this. She stood very still as he removed the dress and the slip; she leaned forward as he unhooked the bra to let the very firm breasts free. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her swelling breasts. And yet he did not touch the surging mounds. He slipped his fingers inside her brief panties and urged them down and she stepped out of them nervously. The heavy mound of dark hair around her vagina seemed to glisten and pulsate with excitement. She felt many little ripples of chills shoot through her taut buttocks and go directly to the hot spot of passion there in her quivering cunt.
"For goodness sake!" she pleaded. "Do something to me! I want you to fuck me!"
He laughed out then and stepped back. "In good time, dear Jill, in good time. Don't rush things so. One must remain in control. Nothing is done well in a hurry."
"Some things are, you bastard!" she shrieked, unable to control her growing hurt.
And then he removed his own clothes and led her limply to the big bed. He pulled her across the bed and held her firmly for several minutes, and then brought his mouth to hers firmly. She pushed her tongue deep into his mouth and jabbed hard several times against his. She pulled her head away and made him kiss her rising breasts; she pulled his hands around her naked hips and tried to get him to grasp her ripe thighs and the glistening ass that yearned to be kneaded, pummeled, torn into harshly.
She pulled his head down to her flat belly and crushed it hard into the heaving navel with both her hands; she bit madly at his neck and scratched at his back with her long fingernails. She could feel his measured breath now down in her pubic hair; she wished longingly now that he would put his hand there, into that boiling mesh of her vibrating cunt. But instead he only kissed gingerly at her heaving belly that arched up flat and hard against his smooth face. He ran his tongue into her navel and made little jabbing strokes with it until she thought she was going to explode.
"Please, will you please ... " she stammered.
"Be calm," he answered blandly.
She began stroking at his flanks, his fine-hard body fitted there against hers. She found his balls and rolled them around firmly between her fingers; she let her hand move up the base of the big penis. "Oh, God!" she groaned. It was a very big one and she ached to have it plunge deep inside that very second. Always before with other men she was able to set the pace of lovemaking, because they were always so hot for her; she could manipulate any aroused man until she was ready for her own peak. But this teacher man was different and she didn't understand it-she felt herself despising him for punishing her so and at the same time she couldn't keep from wanting him to crush down upon her, to finish her, to defeat her.
"Oh, God! Will you do something! Pleasssssss!"
"No!" he barked back and tried to pull away.
She pinned him with her long legs and pulled him back until he was mashing hard against her again; she hunched upward with her pelvis against his expanding cock. She felt the blood-gorged tool against her thighs, the balls pressing into her waiting vagina. Roughly she pulled herself upon his body, all the while bumping her wet thighs furiously against his belly, his chest.
"Go down on me, " she whimpered. "God, that sets me on fire. Please, darling, eat my cunt..."
"No!" he barked again. And this time he seemed incensed. He flipped her body over and began kneading her taut, apple-firm buttocks; he pressed and mashed and squeezed until he had made little whelps come. It was horribly painful but in her growing sensual glow it only served to blow her up even higher.
"Yes, hurt me!"
"Why?" he asked. "Does that really turn you on? Baby, you've got some bad hangups."
"I got just one hangup, you bastard! I want that thing of yours. You must put it all the way in me now!"
He smiled, almost as though it were a game. He took her legs and pronged them high into the air, like a man with post-hole diggers, and then taking dead aim he rammed his hard cock into the throbbing lips of her waiting vagina. There was only a momentary stoppage at the entrance and then he was diving deep into the love canal, down through the misty cavern of her hot being. She sprang upwards to engulf the iron-tipped tool and felt it beat into her womb. Quickly she locked the legs around his middle and hunched for him, but he held her steady and still held the mysterious smile on his face.
"Are you going to fuck me, John?" she pleaded in a little girl tone.
"Like this, you mean? No beginning, no middle, no end? Just coupling up like a pair of animals, Jill? Is that all you know?"
"That's all I want to know now, damn it! Come on, for Christ's sake! You're teasing my cunt to death!"
"Well, all right then, baby, you asked for it!"
She had been grinding her syrupy thighs into his all the while and pushing up madly with her cunt against the hard hole that had impaled her. Deep down in her being she hated him now; he had attacked her and the way she let her impulses control her drive for orgiastic release. But she knew she would have to keep him entrapped now; she could not let the passive cock loose.
He began slowly pumping his cock up and down inside her cunt and she tried to match his rhythm, but she was way ahead of him. Slowly he ran his hands down her thighs and underneath the quivering little ass. He cupped the ripe buttocks harshly and held them still until he mounted an even higher rhythm of cock blows. Her pussy was gushing with foam and it seemed to grow hotter and more abundant as he steadied his cock and drove deeper. Now his hands on her ass were urging a fine, clean lifting, like matched pistons. She took it up and began to match his strokes blow for blow. Soon his hands were pulling hard; she felt his fingers massaging the wetness around her tiny anal opening and into the corners of her saturated cunt.
"I'm going crazy, John! I'm going to come all over you!"
"Hold it, baby, hold it! Make it good for the first time in your life!"
She rolled her fanny around hard and ached to have the huge prick blow her open, split her in two. She rolled and bounced and flapped her arms hard on the bed like a pinned wrestler. He was applying a fascinating hold on her, a double hammer lock, and she was yielding to his pressure. He mounted a hard driving attack that sent her spinning.
"Asss, pump my asssssssssss!" she wailed.
Now he was pouring it on, higher and hotter and heavier than she had ever experienced. The cock was like a smithy's tong, hot and pounding and fizzing in her hot liquid. The bed creaked as he stood them up and splayed them down, in lightning movements. Now his fingers on her bottom stroked and pulled the flesh unmercifully; she felt a finger go all the way in her aching anus; she felt his fingers all about her hunching cunt, massaging the clitoris and pouring all around the tight center of erotic release. Deep down something deep-seated snapped and she spun out of rational being. She couldn't stand it; she was blowing apart.
"I'm coming all the way!" she screamed. "Augggggggggg! God, I'm thereeeeee ah!"
He did not step up his pace to meet her bombastic cresting, but instead kept to the same fine, precise rhythm. Truly now he could not control her movements as he had done before; it was a man-woman battle of the sexes and both were fighting now for supremacy. The cock seemed to extend more so, however, and as she reached her initial peak he held her shuddering body impaled easily, held it down with the strong instrument of his manhood.
"Just the first level, Jill," he said in a halting voice. "Hold on. You wanted this animal ride, and now you've got to take it!"
He pummeled her now with such a heavy barrage of cock blows that she felt sure she was splitting. But she loved it; the more punishment the better, she knew, in that suspended state of euphoria. Why couldn't it last forever, she cried to herself. Why can't we do this forever? Why do we have to come back to stupid reality where we will have to hate each other. There in that primal combat, the only war worth fighting, they were equal foes, perfectly matched no matter how he might deny it. She was his match in this one thing, she knew; she could take his punishment because it all led to that shattering of all defenses. God, she screamed to herself, I was made for this; I was created to be balled apart.
"Oh God I'm coming again!" she shrieked then. "Awwwwwwww!"
She couldn't keep from it; never had she had such heated urgency grip her very core. His iron-hard prick did not drive into her-it forged and rimmed and gouged all about in her hot pussy. Never had she felt such pent-up drive to be released in his cunt this way. His battering ram forged on and she felt his hot bone banging against the walls of her womb as her climax grew and grew.
"God, you're fucking me blind!" she barked, feeling her inner fibers snapping out of the orgasm. Almost immediately she started another ascent. It was miraculous, and now it seemed that his pronging cock had always been a part of her. The fucking sound came louder and louder, a mixture of their flesh flapping together and the ultra-wet vagina sloshing upon his pile driver.
"You're fucking my eyes out!" she wailed.
"Shut up, bitch!" he snapped. His breath came in heated pulls, like a long-distance runner down the stretch. His voice was angry, but his body pounded her all the more furiously. Each time she jolted her spread love-place up to meet his fast drives, he pounded all the harder. If it were not a coupling of erotic animals they truly would have been enemies fighting to the death.
"You're killing me!" she couldn't hold back. His hard-boned pelvis drove with such ferocity that she felt shooting pricks of pain as he thundered against her. His hands grappled for her buttocks and pulled them tight. She felt a finger at the heaving hole where his cock drove measurably each split second. She splayed her legs wide apart and tried to encircle his neck with them. But instead he let go of one of her cheeks and reached up to grab one of her legs. He used the leg as a lever and catapulted her into the air, still with the huge prick buried deep in her womb. Now he was bearing straight down on her with all his weight and she was bent backward into a disfigured V. With the other hand he now drove two solid fingers up into her anus.
"Oh, don't!" she moaned in pain.
"You want pain, bitch! You're that kind! So take it! You don't want a man! You want an animal!"
And now he began raining hard blows into her anus with his two pronging fingers. His cock was simply tearing her deep pussy apart, and he was doing the same thing now with his fingers. She thought she would surely pass out now from all the plunging pressure. Far and away in her hidden core a fire was burning her up. The pain was unbearable, except for the building fire there. She felt herself spinning and spinning. Long ago she had stopped trying to match his fucking blockbusters. She was suspended now almost in mid-air and he was ramming everything he had into her.
His head steamed hot breath all over her. His heavy body strove to snap her very fibers. He was not the same person who had begun to make love to her-he was some demon now trying to disembowel her. But she felt the building fire flaming up the walls of her cunt; no longer did she feel pain as his hand drove hard into her other hole. His breath steamed on and on, his teeth grown together. Their wet bodies flapped like hot wet fish.
She felt the coming climax but knew she had to keep from showing it, for fear it would anger him all the more. She held it back a long time as his dick let off the short jabbing strokes and picked up long jolting plunges. And then she felt herself spin into the highest plane of madness; she could not keep from it-she bellowed out with all her might: " AWWWWWWWWWWWW!"
And then he was reaching that highest plateau himself. Great beasts coupling in the caves of ancient lust could not have contained more savagery. Their bones cracked as their bodies collided with each horrendous blow. His prick was like a cast-iron pipe with a massive ball bearing on the end. She felt it striking furious blows against her womb, felt it knock angrily against her inner recesses. They were not man and woman any longer but creatures meeting on a passionate field. And this monster sprawling erotically upon her body was rising to the final challenge.
"God, you're blowing it all in me!"
"Yes, you bitch! Here it comes!"
Load after load of his fire-hot sperm shot down into her moiling pussy. She felt it shoot deep into her, each wave of it. And she snapped tight where their bodies joined, flipped her legs around his middle, and bucked hard, Angrily she hunched and bucked and held his throbbing, erupting tool. She had caught his best blows and was matching him jolt for jolt now.
And then the heavy cream was filling her completely up. She felt his cock still doing the dance of death inside her, still pumping more. And the liquid gushed up and spurted out the sides of her pussy where his cock still drove.
"Oh, my living God!" she shrieked. "I'm drowning!"
Finally the huge cock spurted one long final stream and stopped. It stood like a lance hard fixed and completely still deep in her womb.
With her hips she gave one last hunch and come to a dead stop herself. They fell then backward and he came down heavily upon her. His voice, moaning and gritty, made her shudder. She felt completed, full, and yet victorious. He had annihilated her but she had lasted through it all. Her body was stinging from the wounds all over.
Then the doorbell rang. She felt herself go limp and let out a weak little whimper. The doorbell rang again. Breathing erratically, she crawled to her feet, discarding the plastic phallus disgustedly. She was pulling up her shorts and trying to get the flush out of her face as the doorbell sounded a third urgent time.
"Hello, is Dr. Simmons here please," a tall young man said. "I've got to see him."
"No, he's not in," she stuttered, looking at the worried expression on the handsome young face. "You'll be able to find him in his office."
"He's not there, Mrs. Simmons. I've been waiting for him for an hour. I've just got to talk to him."
"Well, could I help in any way?" she said calmly now, "Won't you come in a minute?"
He stepped in and it was only then that she got the view of his full stature. He was a young man of perhaps twenty, well over six feet tall, and endowed with very broad and muscular shoulders. His blond hair, wore long with sideburns, tossled into his eyes. He stepped inside anxiously.
"If it is as urgent as it seems, maybe you should try calling him," she suggested. "You may use my phone."
"No, thank you, Mrs. Simmons. I can't get this off my chest on the telephone. I really need to see him face to face, if you know what I mean."
"Well, could you tell me the nature of your trouble, er? What was your name?"
"I'm Phil Evans, ma'am. I'm happy to meet you. I... I don't know if I can explain it to you. You see, I might be in a lot of hot water just coming here."
"Oh, what for?"
"Oh, lord, I just don't know what to do ..."
He sat down on the couch across from her and his whole face was gripped in a mask of despondency. He put a hand up to flick the hair from his eyes and looked at her almost pleadingly. He had bright blue eyes and to her he seemed like a lovable little boy burdened with a sense of boyish guilt. She smiled and that seemed to set him a bit easy.
"You see, Mrs. Simmons, I am a student in one of your husband's history courses. And last week... oh, Jesus ..."
"Now," she shook her head sympathetically. "Nothing is quite that bad, Phil."
"It's pretty bad, all right," he shook his head. "Not that I can complain or even offer any excuses. You see, Dr. Simmons caught Willard Brewster and me cheating on the history exam last week."
"Oh, I see. That kind of trouble,"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well, I'm afraid I can offer you no help at all about something like that. Even if I might believe you, my husband is pretty strong-headed about such things. But tell me, did you really cheat, Phil?"
"I came here, Mrs. Simmons, to confess to your husband and get it off my conscience."
"Then tell me, Phil, what sort of grade were you making with my husband?"
"Oh, I had an A, Mrs. Simmons. You see, it wasn't me who needed the grade. It was Willie Brewster. You have to know Willie. He's our ail-American, you know. But a real great guy too. Willie's just a little weak when it comes to books."
"And so you were helping him out. Is that it?" she shook her head.
"Honestly, Mrs. Simmons, I didn't know Willie was looking at my paper. But that's between you and me. I would never say that to Dr. Simmons or anybody else. Whatever I am, I'm not an alibi-giver. But I'd like to help Willie if I can, you see. I came to ask Dr. Simmons to give me an F instead of Willie. Poor old Willie was just desperate, and my paper was too much a temptation. I caused it all, and I want to take the blame."
"You poor boy," she sighed deeply. He stood up then, towering over her smaller figure a good head. As he breathed deeply in resignation she noticed his bulging biceps and his hard, flat chest. He was truly a beautiful young man and she felt nothing but utter compassion for him.
"I want to thank you for listening to me, Mrs. Simmons. It's been a big help, just having somebody to talk to. I guess I'll go now."
"Phil," she said soothingly. "I'm sorry, I truly am. I wish I could do something for you."
She noticed that he was looking at her legs; the sparkling blue eyes scanned down her figure errantly and then looked away embarrassedly. It was only then that she noticed her blouse partially open. In her rush to answer the door she had forgotten to button the blouse all the way up, and she wore no bra underneath. The poor dear, she exclaimed to herself; he must have been seeing her breasts as he tried to talk about his problems. Self-consciously she held her arms in front of the jutting breasts as she walked him to the door. He turned to her again with his sickened expression, and she decided to hell with appearances. She let the blouse sag open a bit and in doing so felt the nipples harden up and stick out distinctly against the cloth. His eyes drank the sight in hungrily, and she felt a flush of excitement herself.
"Since we know each other now, Phil, I'd like to know what comes of all this. I promise you one thing-my husband will be fair. Will you let me know about it later? Call me or drop by?"
"Oh, yes," he brightened. "I can't tell you how much that means to me. You're very kind."
"Well, I'm new to this role of faculty wife, you know. It'll help me too, you see."
His eyes stayed on her figure a long moment then, causing her to flush all the more and feel a hot sensation stinging her in her deepest region of sensation. She let her own eyes scan his body: he certainly was built like a young Adonis himself, and there at his crotch the huge bulge revealed even more about him.
After he left, she puttered about the house pretending to straighten things up; but she could not keep her mind off the strong young man. She went into the kitchen and put on a pot roast and came back to the living room. There on the floor was the telltale plastic banana. She felt a hot surge in her loins. Disgustedly she kicked the object all the way across the room.