Chapter 7
"You're not a bad fuck, but you're nothin' like Irene," Norm said casually, staring down at Jessie's wide-sprawled, wet-pussied abandon. Jessie stared back at him, resentful of the comparison. Norm shook his oily-looking cock at her. "C'mere an' suck this off," he ordered.
Her blood cooled, Jessie looked with distaste at his lapsed, reddened prick trailing sticky tendrils of sperm. "I won't do it," she said defiantly. "And you can't make me."
Norm laughed, a hard-sounding laugh with little amusement in it. "Oh, no?" he said, and shuffled on his knees toward her. Jessie tried to escape, but Norm was too quick for her. Before she realized it, he had her pinned to the bed on her back and was forcing his odorous, wet-feeling groin into her face. Jessie flinched as Norm's prickly balls grazed her chin. "Suck it!" he demanded, taking one of her ears in each hand and twisting them cruelly.
"Owwwwww!" Jessie cried out. Tears of pain spurted from her eyes. Norm increased the pressure, and Jessie shrieked her distress. "Owwwwwww! Don't, Norm, please! I'll-"
"You'll suck my prick," Norm said brutally. "Right now."
The unendurable agony in her ears forced Jessie to grope blindly with her soft mouth for the reeking penis thrust into her face. Desperately she pulled it between her lips and began to twirl her tongue around the sticky pipe-organ while Norm continued to savage her excruciatingly aching ears. "Harder!" he ordered, pulling her whole face up into his smelly groin.
Jessie licked and sucked at the lengthening rod while her tears continued to blind her. She moved her head back and forth frantically on the upper half of the glistening prick, tonguing the purplish head and sweeping her tongue along the thick corrugation on its bottom. Her tastebuds rebelled at the combined sensation of her own and Norm's spend-leavings in her throat, but she sucked fervently at the re-aroused cock, pulling at it with compressed lips even while a grimace of distaste mingled with the look of pain on her straining features.
Norm threw her aside, finally, and Jessie collapsed, panting, licking her own lips to remove the taste. Norm's cock was at nearly full mast again, but he climbed from the bed and began to dress. "You don't do that like Irene, either," he informed Jessie. "I should've let you have a prickful in your mouth, but why waste it on a dog like you?" He considered her heaving breasts as Jessie strained for breath. "Get your ass into your pants an' let's get out've here." Ten minutes later they left the motel room.
"You're late," Irene said to Jessie when the latter entered the apartment.
"Yes," Jessie agreed. The burning smart in her ears had degenerated to a dull ache. "Would you like to know why?" Quickly she told Irene about Norm, omitting only that Norm had forced her to french him after he fucked her. "So do me a favor, will you, Irene?" Jessie concluded. "Get Norm off my belly and back onto yours." She hadn't intended it to come out quite that way, but once in the open she wasn't sorry she'd said it. She had enough complications in her life right now without having her security threatened by Irene's ex-husband.
"The sonofabitch! Thinking he can use you to force me to take him back! I'll see him in hell first!" She glared at Jessie suspiciously. "Are you sure you didn't encourage him?"
"Of course I didn't encourage him!" Jessie flared. "I want to get rid of him! You telephone him right now!"
"No!" Irene bugled. "I'll handle this my way! I'll show that big-pricked jerk he can't have his own way with me!"
"But what about me?" Jessie asked plaintively.
"If you need a bodyguard at your age," Irene said stiffly, "I'll meet you at the bank after work and escort you home."
Jessie felt too beaten down from Norm's rough usage to argue further. She went into the bathroom and drew a hot tub, stripped, and soaked luxuriously for twenty minutes before going into her bedroom. She decided to stretch out on the bed just for a moment's rest, and in time her deep, even breathing signaled the sleep of exhaustion.
Irene had afterthoughts during the night. She lay awake in her bedroom with flickering images penetrating the screen of her closed eyelids. Norm with Jessie. She shifted position in the bed impatiently. Norm was trying to make her jealous. Well, she was jealous; she had to admit it. But she wasn't going to let him dictate to her.
On the other hand, she felt guilty about Jessie. It really wasn't fair to make Jessie a pawn in the contest between herself and Norm. She and Jessie had been good friends and had had good times together before the current sex-miasma in which they found themselves involved. Irene had just been making conversation when she said she'd escort Jessie home from the bank to keep Norm away from her, but it might not be a bad idea. At the very least she wouldn't be having these technicolored images of Norm and Jessie together in passionately carnal sensuality.
So when Irene got through work at the hospital the following afternoon, she went directly to the bank. She was both disappointed and apprehensive when a guard told her that Jessie had already left. Had Norm met Jessie again and forced her to accompany him with his threat of blackmail? Suppose Norm actually came to prefer Jessie? An icy little finger probed at Irene's spine. She still wanted Norm, wanted him desperately, but it would be on her own terms. Or could it be that Norm wanted to get rid of her altogether? The icy little finger intensified its pressure.
She started to walk out of the bank lobby, uncertain what to do. She found herself confronted by a dapper, debonair-looking man whom in her distracted frame of mind she recognized only belatedly as Milton King. She had seen him at bank parties to which she had accompanied Jessie.
"Aren't you the charming redhead who is Jessie's apartment-mate?" Milton King asked smoothly. "Don't tell me." He snapped his fingers triumphantly. "Irene! The beautiful Irene!"
"It's nice to see you again, Mr. King," Irene said automatically.
"The name is Milton," Jessie's boss said quickly. "But you look disturbed. Can I be of any assistance?" He gave Irene the full candle-power of his smile, and despite her knowledge of this man's hyperactive sexual activities, Irene felt warmed. He certainly was a charmer.
"Not really," she denied his question. She turned her head slightly, followed by her body, so that Milton King could see her best profile. "I missed Jessie, and I don't know how to find her."
"You can see Jessie any time," Milton reminded her with another dazzling smile. "As a matter of fact, I'm beginning to feel quite disturbed with Jessie for hiding you so successfully." His eyes lingered on the thrust of Irene's well-endowed bosom beneath her attractive suit. "Service with a smile is our motto here at the bank, you know. I wonder if I might buy you a drink to ease the burden of your missing Jessie?"
It was lightly said, and accompanied by a lighthearted smile, but Irene wasn't fooled. Milton King was in earnest, and he wasn't talking about a drink. This was what it was like to be propositioned by an expert, Irene told herself. She wasn't having any, of course, but it still felt delightfully soothing to the ego to be wanted. Especially with Norm acting like he was. Irene had little difficulty in convincing herself that Norm had all but abandoned her.
"You really look as though you could use a drink," Milton said with all the suavity of the accomplished dilettante.
"Well, just one," Irene was surprised to hear herself say.
"Fine," Milton said heartily. "If you'll excuse me for just a moment?"
He left Irene only long enough to lock his desk. He was too skillful to leave her enough time to reconsider what she was getting herself into with him. These things had a momentum of their own, and he was an artist at accelerating it for his own purposes. He escorted Irene through the bank's revolving door, and once on the sidewalk tucked her arm in his. "We'll take a cab to this quiet little place I know," he announced.
The quiet little place would be his apartment, Irene knew as she settled into the back of the cab that stopped at Milton's imperious wave, but she didn't care. Time seemed to have stopped for a moment. She was curious about this man after all she'd heard about him, curious about herself with him. There wasn't any right or wrong about it, she defended herself; it was just a happening, a fleabite in time on the hide of eternity.
Milton knew the game too well to make any comment when the taxi arrived at his apartment building. If he called attention to the location, the bird-in-hand too often felt required to make some demurral. He paid off the cabbie and silently escorted Irene through the ornate lobby to the bronze-doored self-service elevator.
I'm making it too easy for him, Irene thought as the elevator ascended silently. He's going to think I'm a whore. But the skillful hand on her elbow, with just enough pressure but not too much, urged her to the door of Milton's apartment. Inside, he at once began mixing drinks as an earnest of good intention. "Why don't you take off your jacket?" he said over his shoulder while manipulating bottles and glasses. "It's warm in here."
Irene hesitated, but finally removed her suit jacket. Her blouse fit like glove-silk, and she could feel Milton's eyes once more upon her prominent breasts in their light restraint as he handed her a drink. "It is warm," she murmured in order to have something to say.
He had no intention of allowing the momentum to slacken even for a drink. Once they had time to think, there was danger of losing them. Pressing the glass into Irene's hand, he slipped an arm around her waist casually and lowered his head. "You really are beautiful, you know," he said softly before fusing his lips upon hers.
The hard kiss surprised Irene, who had expected a more leisurely pace. Balancing the nearly full liquor glass in her hand, she was in poor condition to fight off the embrace even if such had been her intention. Flowerlike, her mouth opened instinctively to the probing of Milton's tongue as his chest crushed her breasts.
At an early age Milton had learned that a fully-clothed girl resists manhandling as much for fear of getting mussed as for Sunday school principles. It was a cherished axiom of his that a girl with thighs bared was a girl with a prick three-quarters of the way into her willing cunt. With Irene's lips moving warmly beneath his, he drew down the zipper of her skirt and let its weight drag it down to the lush carpeting.
"Milton!" Irene muttered in automatic protest even while her tongue sought out his and engaged it. Heat waves were emanating from the region of her tight-feeling stomach. With the skill born of practice Milton took her undrained glass from her hand and disposed of it, rucked up her half-slip, and stroked the backs of her bare thighs. Irene shivered, and Milton deftly slipped a hand under the waistband elastic of her panties and slid the hand downward until it cupped a luscious nude globe.
"Milton!" Irene's tone was hoarse. The man was incredibly clever in his approach. He had remained two steps ahead of her all the way, forcing the issue. The feel of the masculine palm on her bare buttock reminded her of how much she missed Norm. She was getting wet just standing there, feeling the quick cupping-and-releasing movement of the male hand on her naked flesh.
"What gorgeous skin!" he murmured in her ear, brushing the lobe with his lips. Another shiver rippled through Irene as her apartment-mate's boss deftly disposed of her panties altogether and immediately probed at her red-gold feathery moss clustered at her thigh juncture. He'll think I'm a whore! one corner of Irene's excitement-muzzied mind trumpeted at her. But why fight it! another corner replied.
Irene sighed deeply as Milton inserted his hand between her slack thighs and cupped her whole pussy on his palm, which opened and closed gently. Her knees grew weak, and she leaned heavily against him. In the instant he sensed all possible resistance had collapsed, Milton picked her up bodily and carried her to a convenient bedroom.
He was unbuttoning his own clothing with one hand while he bent down over the semi-recumbent Irene and pressed fervently clinging kisses to her warm nude backside. "Gorgeous!" he muttered again, toeing off his shoes. Irene was startled when he slid onto the bed with her, nude. He did everything so quickly there was never an opportunity to mount effective retreat. He had her out of the remainder of her clothing while she was concentrating upon the feel of his elongated penis pressing against her thigh.
"Beautiful!" Milton caroled as he fitted Irene beneath him and luxuriated in soft hand-fuls of snow-white, ruby-nippled boobies and navel-dimpled belly. He took Irene's thighs in his surprisingly strong hands and doubled them back upon her breasts, totally exposing her pink slit clustered with red-gold curls. "Beautiful!" he said again, and inserted a finger into Irene's reddish-thatched sex-fissure.
He frigged her slowly as her sexual flesh clung to the probing finger, the pouting pussy-lips moving in and out with the steady movement of the deliriously exciting intruder. He withdrew the finger and moved it slightly downward, where it nestled against Irene's taut brown-berry anus. "Ever have it romping around in there?" Milton asked quietly.
Irene didn't hesitate. "When I was married," she said. Norm had introduced her to the anguish-delight of a stiff prick in her rectum.
Milton at once squirmed his fingertip into Irene's tight receptacle. She tensed and held her breath as the finger remorselessly advanced until Milton's knuckles grazed either side of her supporting walls. Quick little flaring nips of sharp pain radiated from her invaded asshole, but there was a countermanding sensation that was not painful at all but acutely self-serving. "Fuck me first so I'll loosen up all over," she was ashamed to hear herself plead.
Milton paid no attention. The constricted flesh around his inserted finger had his robust love-muscle standing at attention. He loved to fuck a tight asshole, and this was a tight one. Dolly's was no longer sufficiently constrictive to arouse him to his best efforts, due to much usage earlier in their marriage.
He removed his finger for the second time from an Irene-orifice, and she slowly uncoiled from her doubled-up position. Milton was moving swiftly again. He carried two pillows to the far wall and placed them on the floor end-to-end, then picked up Irene and carried her to them. He placed her on her knees, inclined her upper body forward, widened her thighs, and moved in behind her with his swinging spear prodding her hind cheeks. "I've got to have it!" he said between his teeth, spitting on his palm several times and moistening the head and shaft of his beefy cock.
Irene's whole body trembled as she felt the blunt, slippery head of his starched penis slip between her parted hind cheeks and prod her tight rosebud. Milton leaned into her, and Irene grunted inelegantly as the head of his prick wormed its way into her anus. Milton backed off and shoved, backed off and shoved again, and a bolt of pain shot through the red-haired girl's riven flesh. She chewed her lower lip silently as Milton plowed into her, his cock slipping in a little at a time.
She received the final three inches of his ramrod-erection with a rush as he broke through the resistance of her sphincter. "Ahhhhhh!" she gasped as another clutching pain seized her momentarily, but then her rectum relaxed as Milton remained still for a moment. She pursed her lips apprehensively when he finally began to move upon her, but the pain was gone. Instead, she felt a mounting excitement as the hard rod savaged her backhole and Milton's balls slapped her lower buttocks.
Milton pistoned his straining cock in and out of Irene's deliciously constricted asshole, scrabbling with his knees on the pillows for better leverage as he thrust mightily into her bowel-depths. The warm, loose, oleaginous texture of her inner tissue titillated him unbearably. His shaft was still gripped tightly but his prick-head was floating in whipped cream. Looking down, he saw the blue-veined white gristle protruding from between the redhead's parted buttock-cheeks, and he shoved harder.
A slow tickling-teasing sensation bubbled into full-blown life inside Irene's unused cunt-walls. She writhed her hips as the sensation grew stronger. She raised a hand previously used to balance herself against Milton's whacking lunges into her and tried to insert it into her flaming pussy. Sensing her movement, Milton threw his arms around her and intercepted her hand, sliding two fingers of his own into her slavering quim while with his other hand he repeatedly nipped her flinching clitoris with quick pinches.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh!" Irene bleated, on fire fore and aft. Her sheath-walls grabbed convulsively at Milton's fingers. "Aieeeee! Ooooooo! Dear- God!" Her mind reeled at the totality of the sensations flooding her. Never had she been so skillfully ass-fucked! "Ooooooh!" Her slender thighs thrashed madly. "Ohhh! Ohhhhhhh! You're-I'm-ooooooooohh!-coming! I'm- mmmmmmmmm!-COMING!"
Along her crouched back Milton snarled raspingly as he powered his hips into a final frenzied assault that pumped a flood-tide of sperm through his rod into the girl's tight-gapped strainer. Irene sagged beneath him as her own orgasm petered out, and Milton pulled out of her distended anus with a cork-popping sound. Sperm gushed from her buttonhole down her thighs onto the backs of her legs, and Irene stretched out wearily on her side as Milton parted her hind cheeks curiously for a final look at the reddened moist asshole he had just finished sodomizing.
"I've got to go," Irene mumbled huskily after a long moment's silence.
Milton King laughed. He was rubbing his crimsoned prick against Irene's bare thigh, and the oily-looking cock was rising again. "You'll go after I turn you over and fuck your cunt-hole," he said crisply. The bawdy words stirred Irene; a sensual shiver rippled through her soft, relaxed flesh. Milton's quick hands flipped her over onto her back. He deployed her legs, augmenting the upward tilt of her hair-lined pouting-lipped sex-crevice, then lined up his once-again steely shaft with the redhead's wide-splayed cunt-opening, bedewed by sperm descended from her rectum.
Irene rested on her back and looked up at her ravisher with a look of sex-fever naked in her wide-staring eyes.
Wayne Evans waited for Irene Blanchard to open the apartment door after his knock, but it was Jessie Irwin who opened the door. "Oh, hi," Wayne said, slightly disconcerted at the appearance of the dark-haired girl. "I'm-Irene was going to give me another facial tonight."
"She'll probably be along soon," Jessie replied, stepping aside to let Wayne enter the apartment. She looked at his face as she closed the door. "It's really helping, isn't it?" she commented.
"You bet it is," Wayne said fervently. He ran a hand over his face where the hardened scalelike residue had noticeably softened. "Only four treatments, too. Irene says a dozen should have me almost normal. I still can't believe it." He looked at Jessie, who was wearing a casual housecoat. "I don't suppose anyone with skin like yours can imagine how I've felt all my life."
"It's nice Irene was able to help," Jessie said gently.
Wayne was thinking of Jessie's magnificent skin-tone as he had seen it displayed in the shack near the pond after the skating accident had soaked them both. He tried to remember what Jessie had looked like, nude, but all he could think of was Dolly King's plump curvaceousness and Irene's slender-but-sturdy nakedness. Jessie was better-looking than either, and he was surprised that he couldn't remember what her full-figured beauty of form looked like.
Jessie had observed his distraction. "What's the matter?" she inquired. "Why are you looking so distraught?"
"Nothing," he said absently. Wayne was remembering how he hadn't been able to make Jessie come that afternoon. With his recent experiences with Dolly and Irene buttressing his former lack of dexterity, he was sure he could make her come now. He looked at Jessie speculatively, wondering how much underwear she had on beneath the housecoat.
"Really, Wayne," Jessie said with a little laugh, "what is the matter with you? You look like-well I don't know what."
"I'll tell you, since you ask," Wayne replied with sudden boldness. "I want to fuck you." Jessie blinked, uncertain she had heard correctly. Wayne took a quick step in her direction and circled her waist with his arm. His heart leaped exuberantly when his fingertips announced to him that beneath the housecoat there was just Jessie. "God, you feel good!" he said tensely, massaging a thinly clad haunch through the housecoat.
"Wayne!" He had parted the housecoat in front and was staring at her breasts, belly, and dark-muffed mound as though memorizing each individual characteristic of Jessie's female opulence. "No, no, no!" Jessie half-wailed as Wayne lifted her housecoat in back and played with her chubby amplitudes. She squealed breathlessly when her fellow banking employee caught her to him suddenly and crushed her against him until she could feel through his clothing his hard-bunched groin against her thigh.
"Please, Jessie!" Wayne begged, his hands laving her supple bottom-cheeks while his arms pinioned her. "I couldn't make you come before, but I can now. Please!"
The fondling hands on her bare bottom stirred Jessie almost as much as the hard-pricked probing against her upper leg. A sudden languid-ness assailed her; it was pleasant to be wanted so desperately. Wayne was a good friend, so how could it be wrong to assuage his eager desire? She stood submissively as Wayne, sensing the diminution of her resistance, rapidly whisked off the housecoat completely. Their commingled heavy breathing was the only sound in the room as Wayne's hands moved restlessly over the silky slopes of Jessie's naked belly, breasts, and buttocks.
She followed obediently when he took her by the arm and led her to her bedroom. She had been resting, and the bed was already stripped. She sat on its edge, watching in a sort of stopped-camera calm as Wayne quickly undressed. It wouldn't be much good for her, she knew from the last time, but how could she say no when it obviously meant so much to him? It was with almost a maternal attitude on her part that she reached out and gently took his unbending muscular cock in her hand and toyed with its bright red head when he approached her on the bed.
She permitted him to move her into the center of the bed and to extend her smoothly fleshy thighs laterally. The husky cock rested on her warm belly for a moment as Wayne moved in between her parted legs. "It'll be better, Jessie," he was whispering over and over. "It'll be better for you."
She was afraid for a second he was going to plunge his rigidity into her dry hole, but then she felt a fingertip teasing her orifice after separating her cunt-lips. The finger marched upward to her clit, and Jessie's thighs quivered. A slow, easeful down-dripping ensued at once that liberally bathed Wayne's finger. Jessie squirmed slightly in unexpectedly agreeable enjoyment as the fleshly candle titillated her candle-holder.
The finger departed despite Jessie's closing her thighs upon it in mute protest. Wayne widened them again and introduced the head of his prick to Jessie's dimpled cunt-hole. She relaxed as the softer-feeling but broader-based rugged spear began to pierce her gaping twat. It went inside in a series of shoves that crammed her cloister with the desirable sex-meat. Jessie's breath passed between her half-parted lips in a long sigh.
But it was when Wayne began to work upon her that she at once sensed the difference from the previous time in the shack. Her breath caught in her throat as the pistoning prick started quick little fires in her interior. What in the world was happening? She certainly hadn't felt like this before with Wayne. "Ohhhh!" she exclaimed involuntarily as her hermitage-walls gripped the visitor snugly upon each of Wayne's powerful immersions in her surprised pussy. "That's -uhh!-lovely, Wayne! Oooooh! You're doing-it beautifully!" she panted. "I'm-ooooh! AHHHHHHHhhhhhh!"
She came so quickly and so effortlessly she had no time to articulate it. The soles of her feet shot ceilingward and her nude hips spiraled upward from the bed while the soft cheeks of her behind shook and shivered from the violence of her orgasm. Her greedy cunt clutched at Wayne's rod repeatedly as her sheath-walls oozed sex-moisture along his penetrating prong.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Jessie moaned in relaxed bliss as her bottom sank back upon the sheet. Wayne, who had gone into neutral when he felt her come, resumed his stiff-pricked poking of her lubricious channel. "Take your time, Wayne," Jessie whispered to him. "Make it a good one for yourself." Her hands fitted themselves to his shoulders and cradled him to her breasts.
In seconds her half-closed eyes flew open unbelievingly as a renewed tingling deep within her prick-filled cunt signaled a palpitating resurgence of sensation. Dear God, was she going to come again?
Outside the apartment Norman and Irene Blanchard were sitting in his car, quarreling. Norm had been waiting for Irene in the apartment parking lot, and he had half-talked, half-forced her into his car. "We've got to get a few things straight right now," he growled at her, his face close to hers.
"You don't own me, Norm Blanchard!" Irene returned warmly, refusing to be intimidated by her ex-husband.
"Shut up!" he said rudely. "I suppose you've been out fucking someone?"
"None of your business!" she retorted.
"Who was it?" he persisted jealously.
Irene hesitated. She had never been able to lie successfully to Norm. Sooner or later he forced the truth from her by sheer perseverance. "Jessie's boss," she said reluctantly. "It-it just sort of happened. He likes the same thing you do."
"You mean he punked you in the ass?" Norm demanded, outraged.
"He buggered it," Irene said primly.
"The sonofabitch!" Norm snorted. But he returned to the main point. "Who else? Fucked you, I mean?"
"Wayne," Irene said.
"Wayne!" It was almost a shout. "That kid? You sure as hell must have been hard up!"
"He's not as much of a kid as you think, Norm." She tried to turn the tables. "I suppose you've been laying half the town?" It was a familiar pattern: mutual recrimination, mutual distrust. Only in bed had they ever attained any satisfaction together.
"Who else?" Norm persisted, ignoring her question.
"No one else," Irene said truthfully. She could feel the familiar thawing in her protective veneer as she sat close to Norm in his car. She had never known a man whose physical proximity excited her so much. She wanted him right now, angry though she still was with him for his brief show of independence. She would have bet that he felt the same way, too. She would have bet that if she reached over and put her hand on his trouser-fly, the familiar rampant erection would be present. She had to almost forcibly restrain herself from reaching. The tip of her tongue licked her dry lips.
And then Norm took her hand suddenly and placed it on his groin. Irene almost whimpered at the feel of his hard cock. The crotch of her panties dampened as she gently squeezed the semi-rigid penis which could transport her to such blissful heights. "Let's go upstairs," Norm said thickly.
Irene had been half expecting him to take her pants off right in the car. "Jessie's probably there," she said weakly.
"I don't give a shit if the Queen of England is there!" Norm rasped. "I'm gonna fuck your bare ass till it's busier'n a gravedigger in cholera times!"
The lewd image his words concocted excited Irene still more. Norm opened the car door, and she got out obediently. In the self-service elevator he took out his cock and showed it to her. "I'm gonna clean your teeth with this little jobbie, baby," he announced with deep satisfaction.
The back of Irene's throat felt parched. She could almost taste the big prick Norm was waving at her. She fumbled in her handbag for her key. When she stood in front of the apartment door, Norm crowded up behind her and his released rigidity poked her between the buttocks. "Norm!" she whispered frantically. "Suppose someone comes out into the corridor!"
"Let 'em come!" he said grimly. "Get that goddamn door open or you'll walk inside with a prick already in you!"
She got the door open somehow, although her hands were trembling. Once inside, she held up a warning hand to Norm, who was right behind her. Muffled sounds were coming from the interior of the apartment, sounds Irene couldn't immediately identify. Then a long moan of sexual pleasure drifted out to them, and Norm grinned. "Your girl friend's gettin' her ashes hauled," he observed.
"Quiet!" Irene pleaded. She slipped off her shoes, pointed to Norm's, and waited until he did the same. Stocking-footed, they walked silently through the living room to the partly opened door of Jessie's bedroom. Irene's stomach gave a lurch at the vision of lust on the bed, so much more graphic somehow than she had anticipated when she thought she'd sneak a look.
Jessie was face down on the bed with Wayne kneeling between her widened thighs while he supported himself above her back with both hands on the bed alongside her shoulders. Jessie's flaring nude buttocks were elevated slightly as Wayne's thick prong plowed lustily between them. Wayne's face was almost hidden as he stared down between Jessie's shoulderblades and plunged his hips forward in metronomic precision, but Jessie's face was turned toward the door, and the onlookers gazed silently upon her beautiful face, sensually glazed with almost seraphically unsullied satisfaction. Another low moan escaped her, attesting to her carnal bliss.
"He's got it in her asshole," Irene whispered, awed.
"Naah," the more knowledgeable Norm replied. "It's in her cunt." He watched for a moment critically. "He's doin' a hell of a job," he admitted grudgingly. Before Irene had an inkling of his intention, he sauntered toward the bed. "H'ya, kids," he said airily. "Stand a little company?"
Jessie's half-closed eyes flew open and she emitted a choked scream as Wayne froze at the point of deepest penetration, lodged to the hilt within her clasping pussy-lips.
Bugeyed, they both stared at their visitors.
"Like you got that thing really plugged, man," Norm said approvingly to Wayne.
"Wh-what do you want?" Wayne stammered as Jessie tried fruitlessly to wriggle her hips free from the prick penetrating her buttock crevice. Wayne's cock was rammed home too deeply.
"Want?" Norm repeated. "Why, a little of the same, that's all." He turned to look at Irene. "Shuck your duds, sister, an' let's get in the ball game."
Deliberately he began to remove his own clothing.