Chapter 4
"Were you serious at the motel when you spoke about bringing Neal home from military school to complete the school year with the girls at the local high school?" Mark asked Valerie that night. They were again seated upon the chaise longue in front of the fireplace.
"Certainly I was serious," Valerie returned warmly. "I hate thinking of Neal in that-that spartan atmosphere when he could be enjoying family life here with us."
"Well, if you don't see any complications, I'll call the school's commandant in the morning and make the arrangements," Mark said. He patted Valerie's hand. "The more I think about it, the more I feel you have the right idea."
"That's settled, then," Valerie said. "You arrange for his transcript to be transferred, and I'll speak to James Rollins, the principal, about Neal's enrolling."
"And you'd better speak to the girls," Mark added. "I still have an uneasy feeling they might consider it an invasion of privacy."
"Not a chance," Valerie declared confidently. "They both liked him when he visited us. Penny followed him around like a puppy." She moved closer to Mark. The morning's activities with Penny had left her excited but essentially unslaked, It was after midnight, and the house was quiet. She unzipped Mark's trousers and fumbled in his shorts until she brought out his limp prick which she balanced on her palm. "Poor little wizened old man," she mourned sorrowfully, and dropped her bright-gold head upon the shriveled cock.
She licked the tip delicately, and almost immediately there was a stirring in her husband's flesh. The purple head grew taut as the prick expanded and lengthened. Valerie took it in her mouth and sucked steadily at the same time she whisked her tongue along the vein underneath. A muscle in Mark's thigh jumped and his hands came down and rested on his wife's head. Valerie swirled her tongue around the rapidly stiffening prong and moved her mouth back and forth on it as it crowded her throat.
"Don't waste it!" Mark said hoarsely. "Get your clothes off!"
They both undressed quickly, and Mark seated himself again and drew Valerie down upon his lap so that her wide, soft, bare bottom was prodded by the rampant prick under her. Mark kissed her lingeringly while he played with her breasts, then with her protruding scarlet nipples. His hand dropped down and played with her navel as shivers puckered Valerie's flesh, then with the round bowl of her velvety stomach and the fleecy white-gold hair on her prominent mound. By the time he dipped a finger into her musky treasure-trove, the inner walls of Valerie's invaded cunt were contracting spasmodically and bedewing the invader. She screwed herself down harder on the finger while beneath her the surging cock jabbed at her soft underparts.
"You've got to have the hottest cunt in the country," Mark said huskily. "I've never found you dry." He eased Valerie from his lap onto her back on the chaise, then spread and widened her legs as he moved in between them. He picked up her legs and doubled them back until her uplifted, pouting-lipped, pink pussy was in range of his long, rigid cock.
Valerie relaxed on her back and felt the delicious initial bumping of the blunt-headed cock against her soft-lipped incision. The big prick probed, retreated, advanced, then lodged itself suddenly as she gulped at the quick distention within her quivering pussy. "Ohhhhhhh-h-h-h!" she moaned feebly as the invasion continued.
"M-Mark!"
He worked his hard gristle into her slowly, backing off frequently and making quick little jabbing runs into Valerie's quiff that brought her legs up from the chaise involuntarily. Each time the blunt head dived more deeply, and Valerie's breath whistled. "Ohhh, God!" she gasped. "It's-enormous-tonight!"
She came before Mark was fully into her, in a flurry of stomach-jerking spasms and cunt-contracting writhings that had her whimpering loudly. Mark worked his stout staff into his wife's newly lubricated channel up to the hilt, then rested for a moment until her body agitation died away. When he began to move on her, she at once became vocal again.
"Ahh! Ahh! Ahhh!" Valerie enunciated clearly as Mark's big prick plunged into her repeatedly. She raised her legs and wrapped them around her husband's back, exposing her uplifted big bottom with the long white cock pistoning in and out of her greasy-shiny receptacle. "Ooooooh! Mark! Ohhhhhh! What a-gorgeous-fuck! Ahhhhh! Fuck me! Fuck me- hard-you lovely-fuzzy bear!" Her hands raced over the hard hirsute body pinning her to the chaise.
A shadow moved on the wall closest to them, but in the throes of passion neither noticed it. On the stairway, Ethel, clad in her nightgown, watched with mingled emotions the tremendous fucking being given to her mother by her stepfather. A touch of fastidious disgust at the seemingly awkward naked bodies in their sweaty labors was overwhelmed by a feeling of envy at Valerie's manifest rapture at what Mark's fierce sex-engine was doing to her all-engulfing cunt. Ethel stared from the stairway, fascinated, at the white bodies showcased against the darker.
"Ohhh! Ohhhh! M-Mark!" Ethel heard her mother cry out shrilly as Mark's huge prick continued to bury itself in her oozing trench. "I'm-coming, Mark! Mark! Oooooooooh, I'm -coining!"
Her mother's soft flesh seemed convulsed as it churned itself madly on the spike of Mark's penetration of it, and Ethel hardly dared blink for fear of missing something as Mark's hands slid beneath his wife's perspiring buttocks and pulled her up more tightly against him as he attacked the yielding flesh beneath him with seemingly mindless force. Ethel winced at each resounding impact, but Valerie's hands fluttered along her husband's back, patting, fondling, and soothing. She was holding him tightly to her when Mark boiled over and shot a load into her that seemed to go on and on, then rested laxly upon her with a sigh that seemed to the watching Ethel to come from the core of his being.
She remained on the stairway until the two entwined figures separated, then crept noiselessly back up the stairs and went into her bedroom. She closed the door all but a crack, then stood with her eyes focused on the top of the stairway. In minutes she heard the murmur of voices as her mother and stepfather climbed the stairs. Valerie appeared first, naked, carrying her clothing. Then Mark was there suddenly beside her, also nude. Ethel could even see the frictionized red marks on her mother's lower belly and the uncommon redness of her stepfather's shrunken penis.
Valerie and Mark paused outside their bedroom door for a long, arms-wrapped-around-each-other kiss. Then they disappeared inside, and the door closed. Ethel stood staring down the hallway for a moment, disappointed that the show was over. Then she closed her own door, moved across the room to her dressing table, and turned on its light. In the sudden illumination she pulled her nightgown up and captured it under her armpits while she studied her nudity in the lighted mirror.
She examined carefully the quick swell of her firm-thrusting breasts with ruby teats set in dark areolas, the smooth sweep of her navel-dimpled belly as it plunged into the bronze-haired conjuncture of her round white thighs. She nodded her head, finally, and let the nightgown descend.
Ethel Walker had made up her mind.
She turned out the light and went to bed, to toss and turn for a long time as visions of Valerie's and Mark's sex-blended naked bodies disturbed her peace of mind.
She rose in the morning with a plan of action fully formed. It was the day for Valerie's bridge luncheon, removing one possible source of conflict. Penny's activities were usually scorned by Ethel unless they threatened to intrude upon the older sister's plans. Besides, what Ethel planned for the day had nothing to do with after-school programs.
Before donning underwear after her shower she went to her closet and examined the dresses inside. She chose one in shining black knitted terrycloth of 100-percent rayon with side slits, back zipper, and a white-daisy sash tie in front to relieve its starkness. It was short enough to be worn with pants if desired, but Ethel had no intention of concealing her good-looking legs. Instead, she donned her sheerest pantyhose in a misty gentian-violet hue.
On impulse she ignored her bra before slipping the dress over her auburn hair. The slinky material of the dress clung to her jutting breasts, teasing the nipples until they stiffened. She waited until the mini-erections died away before going down to breakfast, braced against her mother's queries about her finery. Valerie, however, immersed in thoughts of Neal's homecoming, didn't notice. Penny eyed her sister's fine feathers askance, but to Ethel's relief made no comment.
The older sister avoided her mother until it was time to leave for school. She sat through her first two periods tensely, mental images tumbling through her mind to the distraction of all learning capability. Then she went to the school nurse and got herself excused for the balance of the day for non-existent period cramps.
She walked two blocks from school, then took a cab. At fifteen minutes before noon she showed up at Mark Walker's office, which took in the entire third floor of the Cardwell Building and made herself known to the receptionist. "Your daughter is here to see you, Mr. Walker," the receptionist announced over the intercom.
Ethel just had time to be impressed with the seemingly endless desks stretching away into the distance and the numerous semi-private cubicles when a door opened at the end of the room's first section and Mark appeared in it. Ethel walked toward him as casually as she could manage. "Hi," she said in a voice she strove to make just as casual. "I thought you might like to take me to lunch today."
One look at the slinky dress and the violet-gentian pantyhose and Mark had the entire picture. He had been expecting Ethel to make a move, and he was delighted with her ingenuity although he kept his expression bland. "Of course," he said smoothly, standing aside to permit the girl to enter his private office. "But we can have a better lunch right here without bothering to go out. I'll have something sent up from next door."
Ethel was staring abstractedly around the room, which was furnished more like a living room than an office except for Mark's large desk and swivel chair. The carpeting was deep pile, and tasteful abstractions were on the walls. The remainder of the furniture was Victorian in style, and the room's indirect lighting glinted upon its richly polished dark wood.
"Sit down, sit down," Mark said genially, then bent over the intercom on his desk. He ordered ham-and-turkey plates with potato salad, toasted English muffins, apple pie with cheese, and iced tea. As an afterthought he ordered a bottle of rose wine. "Sound all right?" he asked as Ethel sank into a chair near his desk. The chair tilted from front to back so precipitously that Ethel felt sure her short skirt had risen to a point almost disclosing the crotch of her pantyhose, and she kept her thighs clenched self-consciously.
Mark chatted easily about inconsequential items as a girl came in from the outer office and set a table for two in one corner, complete with napkins, silverware, and wine glasses. A waiter appeared with two large trays, and Mark steered Ethel to the table with a hand on her elbow when the luncheon repast was ready. Ethel sat down almost in a daze at so much unexpected elegance while Mark poured her a half-glass of the wine.
"You-I had no idea you employed so many people," Ethel said to make conversation that was coming hard for her. She could feel the maleness radiating from her luncheon companion, and it confused her.
"You mean all the girls?" Mark smiled. "I like pretty girls, or maybe you'd noticed already?" Ethel felt herself blushing despite her best effort to match her host's nonchalance. Mark raised his glass and waited until the girl followed suit. "To our mutual enjoyment of the pleasant occasion," he toasted, and Ethel's color rose again as she sipped at her wine.
The food was delicious, and she ate heartily. Mark continued to speak wittily on various subjects, and despite her mother's previously unsuspected bodily sophistication, Ethel marveled anew that she had been able to capture this sophisticated man. When they finished, the waiter came back and cleared the table and the same girl, a striking redhead, restored the corner to its semi-officelike appearance.
When the room was empty except for himself and Ethel, Mark sat down at his desk momentarily. "No calls until I let you know," he informed the receptionist and his private secretary over the intercom at the same time he kneed a switch on the underside of his desk that locked his office door. He looked at Ethel. "Would you like to see the rest of my setup here?"
"The rest?" she echoed.
Mark rose from his desk and went to one wall where he punched the bottom frame of a painting. A hidden door swung open, disclosing to Ethel's startled eyes a miniature bedroom and bathroom, both exquisitely furnished in the best of taste. "We can be more comfortable in there, don't you think?" Mark proposed.
"N-no," Ethel said instinctively. She realized she was losing entirely whatever frail grip she had had on the situation.
Mark smiled at her benignly. "Look, Ethel," he said softly. "We both know why you're here. You thought I'd take you out to lunch, and you'd turn on the girlish charm, and we'd do it again, and you'd do it again, and sooner or later we'd end up in the sack together." His smile widened. "So why bother with the buildup? Just walk inside there and we'll roadtest the product." His smile turned taunting. "Or are you going to chicken out?"
Ethel had never felt more gauche or less sophisticated. She knew she had been outmaneuvered, and she didn't know how to regain the lost ground. Mark strolled to her casually, put his arms around her, and kissed her hard, the hard male lips crushing Ethel's slightly parted ones. A quick tongue darted into her mouth, stirring her despite her best effort at repressing her arousal. Mark broke off the kiss and stared down at her from his superior height although she was a tall girl. "Let's go inside and I'll try your cunt on my prick for size," he said. Through the thin stuff of her dress he fondled an un-brassiered breast. "Hmmmmm, came ready, did you?"
He led her into the bedroom, and Ethel allowed herself to be shepherded like a sleepwalker. Overpowering waves of masculinity flowed from Mark Walker, and she felt as helpless as the time when he took her panties down and spanked her. "Strip," Mark told her, and proceeded to remove his own jacket, tie, and shirt.
Ethel knew her bluff had been called, if it indeed had been a bluff; at the moment she could be sure only that she wasn't going to let herself appear chicken in the eyes of this man. She removed her dress and hung it carefully over the back of a chair, then stood hesitant as Mark stooped and removed his shoes. Beneath her slip Ethel had on only her pantyhose, and she shrank from the feeling of nudity she knew would follow removal of the slip.
Again Mark anticipated her reaction. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, then stepped out of them. Immediately he drew down his shorts and cast them aside. Ethel looked at the bunched maleness of his groin with his white prick and hairy balls beneath his undershirt, and looked away. Her throat felt dry.
Mark took hold of the slip and worked it off over Ethel's head. Almost negligently he squeezed a firm but pliant buttock in its gossamer covering, then moved his hand around in front and stroked Ethel's mossy mound through the pantyhose. She flinched, and he smiled. "Virgin?" he asked easily.
"Y-yes," she whispered.
He smacked his lips deliberately. "I haven't had an honest-to-God cherry in a hundred years, Ethel."
"I'll-I'll probably bleed like a stuck pig," she said desperately. "Your-your penis is so big."
He began to draw the elasticized waist of the pantyhose down over her sleek white buttocks. "Easy is as easy does," he said soothingly, stripping the clinging, undergarment from her completely. He turned her around to admire her rear view. "Like I tell your ma, Ethel, you've got ass you haven't used yet." He stroked the warm, malleable globes that developed goose-bumps at his touch, then plunged his hand deeply into her buttock-crevice and cupped her pussy on his palm. Ethel gave a little jump as Mark's voice deepened. "It's about time you decided to use this for something more than to piss through, Ethel."
Both his hand and his words were exciting the girl, A volatile flame seemed to flicker from her pussy-lips being played with by the big hand well up into her stomach. A touch on the back of the thigh caused her to look around. The previously limp cock was standing forth erectly, jabbing at her bare leg. Ethel shivered at the sight of the massive rigidity.
As though sensing her fear, Mark sat down on the bed with Ethel on his lap. He kissed her breasts and tongued the cranberry-hued nipples. He played with her belly and shifted her so he could play with her bottom. And then he fused his mouth on hers again while he slipped a finger into her tight cunt-hole after teasing the soft curls adorning her sweetly curved lower abdomen.
She was still trembling, but with a difference they both felt. A wild surge of sensation was boiling up in Ethel's sensitive grotto, overwhelming her fear. Mark frigged her steadily with a curved finger until her pussy-lips turned moist and her breath was coming in quick sighs. He kissed her mouth, her breasts, and the nape of her neck, and Ethel writhed on his lap as she felt herself getting wetter than she had ever been in her life.
"Run into the bathroom and get a towel," Mark told her.
She rose at once and did so, eager now to get on with her own defloration. "Don't mind if I yell," she said to Mark when she returned to the bed and handed him the towel. "Mother says I'm an awful baby when I'm hurt." For the first time she gathered the courage to reach down and take his elongated prick in her hand, her eyes widening at the combined soft-hard feel of the blood-engorged stout shaft. "Oooooooh, it will never go in!" she said in despair. "My pussy aches just looking at it."
He spread the towel on the bed, then picked her up by the waist and sat her down with her shining-white behind upon it. He arranged her legs and lowered himself upon her shrinking stomach until his aroused prick rested on her red-gold fleece. Then he tucked it underneath so that with each movement it scraped the length of her coral-pink sex-fissure.
Ethel sprawled on her back uneasily with her eyes closed, waiting for the searing pain she had dreaded ever since at ten an older girl had explained importantly what happened when a boy put his thing into a girl. But Mark's finger moved in alongside his meaty shaft and once again entered her cunt-hole, frigging the girl slowly at first and then faster as her legs began to quiver. Internal moistness dampened the frigging finger as Ethel's juices were again stirred.
The girl tightened up again from her momentarily relaxed love affair with the probing finger when she felt Mark replace his knees and line the tip of his hard cock up with her shrinking pussy-lips. The blunt head bored into her slightly, wiggled from side to side, backed off, then advanced again.
"How's it going?" Mark Walker asked his stepdaughter.
"It's softer-than your finger!" Ethel gasped. "But oooooh, it's stretching me!"
With infinite patience he moved in and out of the tight sheath in the smallest of increments, gradually enlarging his prick-hold on the virgin cunt. Twice he pulled out entirely and rubbed saliva all over his reddened prong, then moved back to the fray as Ethel's thighs tensed apprehensively. Finally he ended up drawing an extra wince from the girl as the blunt head of his straining prick encountered a fibrous obstruction.
Mark reached down and took hold of Ethel's smoothly sculptured nude hind cheeks in both hands, kneading and massaging the soft flesh. "You've got the prettiest bare ass a girl could ever hope to have her boy friend unveil on the back seat of a car," he told her, attempting to distract her with his words as much as with his manipulation of her silken, yielding behind. "I don't know when I've seen-"
When he started the second sentence, Mark pulled Ethel up tightly against himself at the same instant he bored into her with his prick. He smashed through her hymen and lodged in her fully while her body gave a great, convulsive leap.
"OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!." Ethel shrieked. "Ooooooh, it's burning! It's- burning! Ohhhhhh-h-h-h-h!"
Mark remained motionless on her belly, his long cock imbedded in the girl's raw-feeling cunt. Ethel's choked sobs of distress died away as her cunt sheath adjusted gradually to its sudden dilation. Mark clenched his buttock muscles and Ethel whimpered aloud at the feeling of prick-movement inside her, but there was no longer the same feeling of urgency in her voice.
Cautiously Mark began to move on her round stomach, raising and lowering his hips slightly. "Owwwww!" Ethel breathed, but again with no indication of impaled distress. She was so tight that his prick-head was throbbing, and he made no attempt to restrain his natural reaction. "Oooooh, what was that?" Ethel exclaimed, startled, as Mark's load of sperm traveled from his balls and deluged the girl's distended sheath.
"Shhhhh-h-h!" Mark murmured, relaxing on her belly again. The slight diminishment of his erection coupled with his copious discharge soothed Ethel's scraped-feeling inner walls.
When Mark began to move upon her again, a new note crept into the young voice.
"M-Mark?" she said uncertainly. "It's-your thing feels-funny-in me. It feels:-" She lost her voice in a high-pitched gasp as Mark settled down to plowing her garden. "Ohhh! I never- felt-oooooh-! It's so-big and so-deep! Ohhhhh!"
Mark had regained all of his original erection, but they were both well-lubricated now. He slanted in and out of Ethel's newly juicy pussy and the girl attempted uncoordinatedly awkward thrustings of her inexperienced hips. "Let me do it this time, baby," Mark said hoarsely in her ear. "You've got-forty years- to play-the whore."
But she didn't hear him. "Ohhhhhh!" she squealed almost in a falsetto as the big prick fucked her seething cunt. "Oooooh! Mark!" Her legs climbed his back, again awkwardly but eagerly ardent. Her floundering beneath him almost sent him into another orgasm, but he held off, determined to make her come so she would remember the experience as pleasurable.
He speared her bronze-haired doughnut in a steady rhythm, and her voice rose again, almost querulously. "Ohhhhh?" she got out in a questioning mew. Her slender thighs bucked from the excess of emotion radiating through her. "Ohhhh, Mark! I'm-oooh! Something's- tickling! Ohh! Ohh! Ohhh, Mark! Ohhhh-h-h-h!"
He could feel the unguided quick thrusting of her warm belly as orgasm overwhelmed her.
While her involuntary cunt-contractions were still nipping at his fleshy rod he splashed her again with a bountiful come, then pillowed his head on her firm young breasts.
Ethel raised her head questioningly when she felt him shrinking within her. "Is it-over?" she asked, nibbling at her lower lip. "I mean- there isn't any more?"
Despite himself he laughed. "You mean you want more?"
She blushed deeply. "Well, near the end there it was getting-well, wild!"
"Your finger never did that for you?"
She turned scarlet. "I don't know what you mean," she said stiffly.
"I mean when you played with yourself in bed nights."
She couldn't look him in the eye. "That's I- I'm-" She swallowed hard. "H-how did you know?" she whispered.
"Do you think you're the only one who can hide in closets?" he teased.
"Ooooooooh," she moaned, mortified.
He moved her hips on the towel. "Look," he said. She raised herself to do so. There were blood-and-semen stains on the thighs but surprisingly little blood on the towel. "Do you really think you had a maidenhead?"
"Well, I had something that you ripped in there!" she said vigorously. She flexed her thighs slowly. "Does my pussy ever feel tender!" She looked up at him with more of her natural ginger than at any time since he had put her on her back. "Was I better than mother?" she asked impudently.
"I ought to whale your ass," he said disgustedly. "Hardly got your cunt broken in and you're asking me to compare you to the best. If you ever get to be half the fuck your mother is, kiddo, you'll have put in a good day's work." He considered what he had said. "Make that a couple of years' work."
"I will be better, though," Ethel said confidently. "You wait and see." She put a hand on his arm as he started to move from the bed. "Why don't you put it into me from behind like you do with mother?"
His laugh that time was grudgingly unwilling. "Listen, girl, as it is you're going to walk bowlegged for two days. Get inside there and soak yourself in a hot tub, then-go home and tell Valerie you landed wrong on the sawhorse during gym at school. Otherwise you're going to find yourself trying to answer questions you won't want to answer."
"But we'll do it again?" she asked eagerly. "Ill be better next time. All I need is practice."
"Somehow I believe you, Ethel," he said slowly, "And you can be sure we'll do it again."
He shepherded her into the bathroom, then returned to his office, still naked, for his cigarettes. Back in the bedroom he picked up her scattered clothing and brought it into the bathroom to her. When she climbed from the tub, he swathed her in a fluffy towel and patted her dry. "How's the scene of the recent accident?" he inquired, trailing his fingers down over her damp body-curls to her pouting sex-gash.
"Sore," she said frankly. "But I don't mind." She lifted one leg and then the other. "It feels -it feels almost as though you forgot and left something in there."
"You're still stretched," he said tolerantly. "But you'll shrink." He watched her dress, aiming a paternal spank at a naked buttock just before it disappeared into her panty-hose. "Why'd you come here today? Couldn't you get yourself poked by anyone in school?"
"Of course I could," she said scornfully. "But you made mother feel so good I wanted it to be you. And I think I was right about it." She presented her back to him for her dress to be zipped up, and he obliged.
"Thanks for the compliment, sis," he said with less of his usual flippancy. "You're going to be a good fuck one of these days."
She beamed at him, then glanced toward his office. "Should I go now?"
"Not that way," he said. He went to his clothes and removed his key ring. He unlocked a door set flush with the wall inside the bedroom. "You'll find two doors locked on your side that you can let yourself through," he told her. "See you tonight."
"Aren't you clever fixing it so no one knows how long your-your guests stay?" Ethel said admiringly.
"Scoot," he said, but he was smiling. He watched her walk to the first locked door, his eyes on her thighs-apart gingerly stride. His smile widened as he closed the door on its invisible seam and locked it again. Things were right on schedule.
He showered and started to take fresh underwear from a bureau drawer, then stood in the bedroom, thinking. That tight little cunt had been a bit of all right, and it would be even better with no necessity for restraint in the future. Just thinking about it, his prick rose from between his thighs. Mark looked down at his heavy meat with the purple head emerging snakelike from the withdrawing foreskin. Damn, maybe he should have kept the girl a few minutes longer and backdoored her as she wanted.
There was an alternative, of course.
He waited another moment to be sure the erection was no false alarm, then left his fresh underwear in the bureau drawer and walked through the bedroom to his desk. He flipped the switch on the intercom that connected him with the secretarial pool. "Miss Rounseville," he said.
"Yes, Mr. Walker?" a feminine voice floated back.
"Dictation, please."
He released the office doorlock and went back into the bedroom. When the striking redhead who had set the luncheon table entered the office, Mark walked in from the bedroom, still naked. The girl's eyes widened. "Get your pants down, Lily, and your belly on the desk," Mark ordered. He had already decided that after Ethel's tight cunt he couldn't come off in a relaxed pussy. He approached his desk, kneed the lock on again, and removed a jar of vaseline from a drawer.
"Oh, please, Mark," the redhead pleaded with her skirt already waist high. "Not in my ass. Please."
"Definitely in your ass, Lily," Mark said curtly. "If you expect to continue working here."
Helplessly the redhead skinned down pink panties and gingerly lowered her belly upon the desk top. Mark approached her sleekly plump bare behind, obstructed only by garter belt tapes, and slathered vaseline in between her buttocks and inside her tight-puckered anus. Then he did the same for his rigid cock.
He paused to work the vaseline deeper into the girl's flinching rectum before removing his finger and applying the tip of his vaselined prick to her vaselined bottom-hole. He bucked experimentally a couple of times, and Lily's white bottom quivered. She moaned quietly as he began to penetrate her in earnest. Mark never cared how much noise the women he brought to the office made. With all the other money he'd spent getting the setup fixed up to his satisfaction, a little more for soundproofing had been a good investment.
He shoved harder as the head of his cock slipped inside the redhead's distended anus. He grunted and strained as his prick forced its way into the girl's buttery-feeling rectum. The feel of her soft flesh against his thighs excited him. Lily was crying openly as Mark began to plunge into her pain-wracked flesh.
"Where am I fucking you, Lily?" Mark asked sadistically.
"In-my-asshole," the redhead got out between sobs, knowing what he wanted.
It was over too quickly to really suit Mark. Before he was ready he felt the deep trembling in his loins, and then his hot sperm was gushing from his prick into Lily's palpitating clenched bottom-hole. Mark groaned aloud as he wrung out the last few drops into the quivering rectum, then pulled out of the girl with a sound like the slapping of his two palms together. A river of sperm ran from Lily's bunghole down her thighs, and she wiped frantically at herself with her hands to keep it from reaching her garter-belted stocking tops.
"Clean things up here," Mark said gruffly, and went back to the bathroom and the shower.
He was thinking that he had been saving Valerie's virgin asshole-so far as he knew, and he was sure he did-and he didn't really know why.
Perhaps it was time to do something about that tasty morsel.