Chapter 6

As Tom Kimbal packed his overnight bag, Kathy tried to get some answers out of him. All she knew about the current state of affairs was what she read in the newspaper. The governor had decided to have troops on campus by Monday morning. It was now Sunday afternoon, and he had already issued the call.

While Kathy tried to be understanding, and while she knew that a campus disruption inevitably takes its toll on the campus president, the anger boiling in her husband seemed half directed at her.

"They've pretty much succeeded in shutting down the campus," she said. "There's no blood being shed at the moment. So what makes him decide to send troops now?"

"Because he's an asshole, obviously," Tom growled.

"Well, how are you going to convince him not to?"

"Damned if I know."

"Well... what'll you say?"

"Find some way to convince him he's an asshole," he said. "How else?"

"That might be difficult."

Tom fixed her with a steely sarcastic look.

"The troops wouldn't be necessary," she said, "if you'd just ease dormitory regulations." "Holy fucking Jesus!" Tom bellowed. "Now you're getting on my back!"

"Well," she said defensively, "it seems to me that the public, even in this state, is willing to accept the fact that today's student has some right to have normal sex."

"Now tell me just what in hell you know about normal sex!" he snapped.

Stung, Kathy turned to leave the room. When Tom left fifteen minutes later, she was sitting in the parlor. She saw him stride past the glass doors without even looking for her, and heard him bellow from the front door that he wouldn't be back 'til morning, which she already surmised from the fact that he'd packed his overnight bag.

Kathy remained seated on one end of the couch in the parlor long after Tom had gone. Her thoughts were not those she would have chosen to think, but being totally alone with them they took ahold of her. She saw no chance of ever achieving happiness with Tom. Her marriage seemed pointless and futile. The sun sank in the sky and she showed no outward signs of life. Darkness grew and absorbed her and she did not reach out to turn on a light. The dinner hour had passed and she had no pangs of hunger. She was in the grips of a deep depression.

The doorbell rang once, twice, three times, maybe more. At first she didn't hear it and then she ignored it, before its insistent clamoring din aroused her from her inner turmoil enough to enable her to overcome her outer lethargy and go answer it. When she switched on the porch light and peeked through the door she saw Jack standing there, holding an envelope. Beside him stood another boy, and only after studying his face for a moment did she realize that he also had carnal knowledge of her. The words to describe the exact act he'd performed on her semi-reluctant body did not immediately come to mind, but at the memory of it, as she gazed upon him, her rectum tingled. It was George.

"Well, we didn't know whether you were here or not," Jack was saying, "but your husband held a news conference in the capitol about an hour ago, so we figured it was safe to come by."

"Oh, oh yes," she found herself saying, "he'll be away overnight."

"Well, I just brought these by," Jack said. "They're the, uh, the negatives. For the pictures I gave you. I just wanted you to feel secure that I wouldn't use them."

"Oh," she said, frowning, remembering, "I knew you wouldn't use them." "All along?" he asked, incredulous.

"Well," she said, laughing, and standing aside in silent invitation for the two to enter, "for a while you had me believing that you might use them, but after I left I knew you wouldn't."

"Well, that's nice," Jack said. "Because as a matter of fact, I wouldn't have." He began laughing to himself. "What's so funny?" she asked, leading them into the darkened house and turning on a light in the parlor. "I kept copies of them," Jack admitted. "That way, if I ever get to be seventy and can't get it up, all I'll have

to do is take a look at them. Hope you don't mind."

"Not really," she said, smiling enigmatically, aglow with the knowledge that, although her husband rejected her, this boy wanted to possess her, to keep vivid the memory of having possessed her, throughout his life. "But I hope you look at them before you're seventy!"

"I'm sure I will," he said, "but masturbating is something I like to avoid, if possible."

"So?" she said. "Don't masturbate."

"Is that an invitation?" he asked. But he asked it rhetorically, because from the way she stood and smiled he knew full well she was provoking him. Them.

She shruggedmeaning, take it however you wantand her cheeks suddenly flushed as her smile became more radiant. Jack kissed her briefly yet lingeringly on her full lips and then lowered his head to nibble at her neck, his hand coming up to massage her breast through her clothes.

Her eyes wide open, she looked at George, who although grinning had stood silently while the two of them had spoken, and held her hand out to him. When he stepped forward, she caressed his cheek. Her mouth opened to receive his tongue as he kissed her on the lips. Her eyes closed as her arms went around both boys. George clutched the full globe of her ass in his hand and squeezed.

Feeling herself beginning to go weak at the knees, with a sigh Kathy shook herself free from both boys and stepped back. She reached behind herself to unzip her dress, drawing it forward over her arms and then quickly reaching behind herself again to unhook her brassiere, leaning forward to ease her breasts out of the cups and dropping it to the floor. Her erect nipples glowed like eyes. As if to ease a sudden pang, she touched them for a moment with the fingertips of both hands, before pulling her dress and panties down over her hips.

Eyeing keenly her quivering breasts, both Jack and George had begun to undress, ripping off their clothes as she calmly stepped out of her panties and then sat on the arm of the easy chair, her legs slightly parted. She was aware that as both boys tore blindly at their clothes, their eyes were on her body, traveling from her full quivering breasts to the moist gash between her legs. This pleased her and she felt her pussy secrete more of its lubricant.

In part, with Jack and later with his friends, Kathy had undergone a process of self-discovery. It had been painful as all such processes are, but now she found herself asking, What is femininity if it does not actively seek to arouse masculinity?

Kathy spread her legs as she sat on the arm of the easy chair, the tendons in her thighs standing out as she dabbled at her exposed pussy with her fingers, slowly spreading her gushing lubricant all around the surface of her richly colored inner membrane in the center of her hairlips. Her enigmatic smile had returned to her face as if she was discovering a secret.

When both boys stood naked in front of her, Kathy eyed their aroused cocks, both unlimbered prongs thrusting in front of their owners. Both cocks were red-tipped and blue-veined and almost gruesomely erotic, although both were circumcised and not quite so gruesome as Tom's. Kathy shuddered slightly, but she knew she had to make what sensual discoveries about herself she could while she had the opportunity. She had to be split by both cocks at once.

She motioned to George, saying, "Lie down," and when he did, his prong thrusting obscenely from his pubic mat, she didn't know how she would manage to impale herself on it. But, taking a deep breath, she straddled him, facing away from him, and lowered herself, going onto her knees. When she felt the broad head of his cock touch her crotch, she reached down between them to take it in her hand, running it up and down her lubricated pussy.

Both boys watched as she centered it and eased her hips down, the cock's head splitting her lips and stretching her cuntmouth. With a gasp, she sat down on it, impaling herself fully. She wiggled her hips to make his prick nice and slick and then rose off it only to touch it to the crevice between the cheeks of her ass. Being helpful, impatient for further contact, George moved his hands to the underside of her buttocks and split them wide open to settle the tip of his prick against the rubbery ring.

Kathy's face tensed as she anticipated the ripping pain of entry, her hands pressed down onto George's thighs for support. She held her breath as the pressure of his cock against her asshole mounted, gingerly lowering herself as the prick rose grindingly higher to complete the union.

Kathy's heavy breathing was the only sound in the room George held his breath and Jack watched quietly,

in hypnotized fascination as the beautiful full-bodied woman before him pulled her lips back over her teeth and turned every ounce of her concentration to inflicting upon herself that first flash of pain that would mean the prick had broken through her resisting anus. Sweat broke out on her brow and her underarms. Suddenly it happened. "Aaaagh, Jesus!" she cried, willingly rent.

George reached around to grab the heavy breasts of the panting perspiring woman who had admitted the head of his prick to her rectum. Her nipples were rigid against his palms. He wiggled his buttocks to help her rectum adjust. He pulled against her breasts and humped his groin to wedge more cock into her asshole.

George could bear it no longer and his hands left off kneading her breasts as he sat up fully to pull her down by the shoulders with all his might.

"Ugh, ooh, ahhh," Kathy cried, her asshole suddenly impaled by the length of his cock, bloated to the hot rubbery depths of her rectum, her body quivering. But just as she expected, just as had happened last time, the burning pain eased off and her ass adjusted to sodomy. Feeling filled clear to the gills, she looked up and saw Jack's prick standing twitchingly at ready in front of her.

When she opened her mouth and held her tongue out softly, Jack took a step forward. She seized it in her mouth and caressingly licked its tip, tasting some seepage, and then ran her tongue all over its tender glans. She squeezed the glans tightly between her tongue and soft palate and felt Jack's cock give an involuntary twitch, and then she lay back, lying on her back atop George, spreading her legs wide and holding out her arms. "Fuck my cunt!" she cried throatily, as if the lad needed any urging.

Jack knelt between their legs, his knees between George's, Kathy's sticking almost straight out to the sides. Her quim was spread, dripping, the jet black fur stuck down on either side of the slavering geegaw. But it was a geegaw with hot throbbing depths and folds. Jack touched the head of his cock to it and felt it emit heat. There is nothing more dizzying than introducing your cock to slobbering, hot, moist pussy, a pussy primed just so.

As if he was taking too much time about it, Kathy grasped his buttocks and pulled him into her, his prick churning her channel with a sucking noise as it impaled her and became totally engulfed in the dank depths.

"Oh! Yes! Yes!" Kathy cried, holding his buttocks firmly, wanting all of him inside her and feeling her pussy begin to pulse on the splitting shaft while her rectum gripped the other shaft probing her bowels from beneath. And in that moment of silence and stillness, Kathy, savoring the anticipation that, in just a moment now, both huge cruelly penetrating shafts would churn and plow and jostle her belly from both ends until her teeth rattled and she was fucked silly, Kathy, savoring this, savoring her own ravishment, knew that she was not frigid. She knew it beyond a doubt, once and for all. Never again would that scene be laid on her, to put it in student parlance. It was a heavy trip and a damnable one.

After holding his press conference in the office of one of the TV stations in the capitol, Tom Kimbal went to a bar. He planned to get drunk and pick up a tart, or even hire a prostitute. A college president has to get his rocks off just like everyone else, he told himself with no little self-irony.

But as he nursed his double Scotch, his thoughts were all directed toward the conferences he'd just had, first with the governor and then with the press. He'd told the governor that the troops were unnecessary, that the campus was calm for the moment. The governor, in his best hypocritically indignant style, had said, "Look here, the taxpayers of this state pay good money to keep that campus open, and I say, by God, if you can't keep it open, then the troops are gonna have to do it for you!"

Tom, on impulse, had then gone to the TV station, had reported what he'd told the governor, which was an accurate reflection of the situation, and told them what the governor had said. He'd gone on to state that the governor was trying as usual to make political hay out of a campus disturbancesince he knew from the polls that the public approvedbut that this time the public would see that the troops weren't necessary. He, Tom Kimbal, thought that the public was becoming wise to the mechanics of campus disturbances, and that now they would also become wise to this right-wing rabble-rousing political charlatan who served as their governor.

Tom downed his Scotch and hoped he was right; it was going to be his neck or the governor's. He knew that if he announced an easing of dormitory regulations, he would be right, he would take the wind out of their sails; however much the leaders might want to bring down the university over this, their support would melt

away.

Tom ordered another double Scotch and wondered why he'd been so stubborn on this. He had been telling himself that he objected to their tactics, but now, in his half-drunken haze, he saw that what he didn't like was the image of his fourteen thousand students all copulating happily, when he, Tom, didn't do very well for himself at home. He had been mouthing morality, publicly, alongside the governor, and saw that it was a morality both more personal than he'd thought and at the same time based on envy. This hit Tom as a great insight: morality grows out of envy. He would later realize that the German philosopher Schopenhaur had said it. Still, it was an insight, a truth, a verity that each man must sometime in his life see for himself.

Tom knocked off his second Scotch and eyed the women in the bar. A couple of floozies were standing together down near the telephone. He was looking them over, and had pretty much decided on the skinny one just for a change of pace, when a patron leaving the bar did a double-take, glancing at Tom and then looking again before he walked out. Tom suddenly remembered that, having been in the media, he had been recognizedor if not, there was a good chance he would be. He tried for a moment to imagine newspaper headlines: Stubborn Prexy Seen with Floozy; While Students Riot over Rights to Normal Sex, President Kimbal Cavorts with Whores.

His blood curdled. He got up and walked out of the bar, looking neither to the right nor left. Outside, he shuddered. Once in his car, having given up the notion of getting his rocks off, he wondered what had made him want to go to a whore, anyway. Kathy was sexier than any woman who ever put it up for sale. Even if she was frigid. Tom Kimbal suddenly found himself wondering why he'd wanted to go to a whore anyway; what was missing from his life was the sensual response of a woman, a heartfelt libidinal response, and that was nothing you ever got from a whore, from a woman who functioned like a machine.

When Tom put his key in the lock and opened the front door he heard the strange sound of a cat purring, an unfeline cat purring in soprano, a strange sound he did not recognize and he stood at the open door, an ear cocked, frowning absently. Only when the half-human half-animal purr was interrupted by a deep grunt did he recognize the continuing sound as a moan, and realize that the moan was the result of some kind of activity going on in his parlor. Light shined through the parlor doors and the rest of the house was dark. Tom closed the front door without making a sound. It had been a long time since Tom had heard a woman moan like that. He set down his briefcase, took off his shoes, and in his stockinged feet crept to the glass doors of the lighted parlor.

Tom saw what he immediately recognized as a two-backed beastas the poet once called it. Except this beast had too many legs all tangled and, yep, three torsos all piled up; it was a three-backed beast. The angle of the legs, which he had now sorted out, allowed Tom to see that the beast in the middle was being double-fucked. Tom didn't recognize the twisted, ecstatic expression on his wife's face, but he recognized her body. Knowledge hit his uncomprehending mind: There Kathy was, being sandwiched and loving it!

"Ohhhhh!" she moaned, the pleasure in her voice undeniable. She was impaled between two cocks like meat on a barbecue spot. His frigid wife!

Tom's brain turned hot as he watched two thick cudgels of flesh skewer his wife's wide wishboned legs, splitting the orifices of her loins like battering rams. The only sounds in the house were the grunts and moans, the sounds of passion in the parlor, and the wind rattling the windows.

The lad on top pounded the unresisting cavern of his wife's cunt, and Tom saw the pink edges of her cunt drawing back with Jack's outstroke, then the cunt-wet cock folding the ragged lips in again as he rammed his prick into her belly. And he saw George violating her asshole, grinning demoniacally with each murderous long stroke as he rammed splittingly between her buttocks. The cries reached a new decibel level. Even the wind howled in ecstasy. KathyTom kept reminding himself that this was Kathy! His Kathy! Frigid Kathy!moaned in undisguised impassioned pleasure. Totally letting herself go, overindulged in pricks, she howled and bucked and fucked back at each of the pounding penises. With each driving, digging stroke, she counterpunched, taking everything they had. She was the picture of wantonness, a picture from Tom's dreams. Her hips fired backward to meet the upthrust of George's cramming cock with the rubber of her bowels and then shot forward to swallow the whole of Jack's cock in her hot lead-melting pussy. Her whole frame undulated between the two youths and her breasts shuddered and her buttocks twitched as they moved in

abandoned circles.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah ... " she chanted in step with the buildup inside her belly toward an explosion, the climb inside her at a faster pace than the duo thrusting at her loins. Kathy knew she was almost there, closer, closer, closer! All three groaned and panted and gasped a rendition of total oblivion to life or persons outside their triangle.

The lad on top finished first. "I'm cumming ... ah, oh fuck, you're good!" and he slobbered on her breasts, chewing her nipples as he fired a load of hot sperm into her steaming pussy, his prick pumped by Kathy's flailing puslating pussy as she reached her climax.

"Ohhhhh! Ooh! I'm cumming! I'm CUMMMING! Ooh! ... My ass, my cunt! Oh! OHHHHHH! God!"

Tom saw his wife's orgasm climb and climb, doubling, echoing, continuing ... Kathy was deliriously conscious of the spurting cock in her sorely twitching pussy, and then she heard the heavy groan as the first molten burst of seminal fluid flooded her rectum, the quaking cock swelling as it fired salvo on salvo into her twice-used asshole passage, George grabbing her slobbered-on tits and squeezing as if to hold her steady while he gave her his best.

The three lay in a sticky wet oozing heap for a minute, breathing heavily and letting their heartbeats settle. Finally, Tom saw the lad on top climb up, his prick limp and coming from Kathy's cunt with a wet sucking noise. Kathy lay still, unable to move with George beneath her holding her around the waist and his cock up her ass. Tom saw through the glass doors her legs obscenely splayed, cum mixing with her juice and spilling out the ragged edges of her cuntlips and down onto the dwindling cock in her rectum below.

Trying to get a grip on himself and to decide what course of action to take, Tom stepped back into the foyer. He was mad, justifiably angryhis husbandly prerogative had been usurped. But more than anything, he wanted to fuck her! He wanted to fuck Kathy and make her cum! To make his wife, whom he'd never really known, cry out in joy!

He heard the steady murmur of voices from the parlor, something being discussed, and still had not fixed a course of action when he heard Kathy say, "Of course you should stay! Let's fuck 'til dawn! If you're game, of course!"

"We're game!" both chorused. Tom bet they were. "Great!" Kathy said. "I'll go fix us a drink!"

From the foyer, Tom glimpsed his wife's nakedly undulant body as she flashed out of the parlor, shut the door, and went toward the bar. Treading lightly, drawn by a magnet, he crept by the parlor, glancing at the boys as they lit cigarettes, and after his wife, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket.

Kathy, squatted in front of the mini-refrigerator at the bar, heard no one approach. Her first knowledge that anyone was behind her came when her sight was abruptly cut off, a folded handkerchief slammed over her eyes, then tied behind.

The next thing she was aware of was a finger abruptly ramming into her cunt as she squatted, gaping slightly as it was, and then a hand on her arm, lifting her to her feet. "Jack?" she guessed. "George?"

There was no answer. She felt herself being steered forward rapidly, her buttocks cupped in the palm of a hand as she walked, the finger obscenely probing her cunt. She thought, Whichever of them it is, they don't want me to know. With this thought she felt her excitement return in full lascivious force. Imagine that! Not knowing who was fucking you! She felt her cunt, already sopping with her cum and Jack's, emit fluid afresh.

Then she heard a sound that took her a moment to identify as something she'd heard before, a jingling sound. It was the sound of change jingling in a man's trouser pockets, change jingling as she half stumbled in front of the man up the stairs.

Jack and George were both naked! This was neither of them! Tom was in the capitol overnight! This was someone else! Someone she didn't know! A burglar!

"Who ... who?" she stammered.

"Shut up or I'll kill you," the man growled in a low husky voice.

Kathy's heart skipped a beat and she realized that she was going to be raped, fucked by a man she had never seen, did not see now. Shoved forward, she fell onto her face on a bed. She waited, knowing she had no power to resist, and realized that she had never been more excited in her life. Her pussy throbbed at the thought of being ravished by a total stranger. It was a night, possibly her last opportunity for a long time, for

giving in to her sensual sensations.

She rose to her knees on the edge of the mattress. She realized from the rustle of clothing that the man was removing his pants. She could run if she wanted. Something throbbing in her mind told her to run, but her pussy cried to stay. What was this lasciviousness she felt?

Her face flush against the bedspread, she spread her knees widely on the edge of the mattress and arched her back to present herself, her pussy. She was a victim who at this moment chose to be victimized.

Tom saw both of his blindfolded wife's hands come to her crotch and spread her pussy, drawing the lips apart to reveal the folds of her cunt-mouth, as she began to gurgle, "Fuck me! Oh fuck me!" and waggle her ass in the air. Goddamn stubborn women, he thought, it takes them forever to learn. But when they do come around, they do it with a vengeance.

In half a moment Tom stepped between his wife's heels, standing behind her as she waggled obscenely, showing him right where she wanted him to stick it. He took his throbbing hot cock in his hand and guided it without delay until its bulbous head, from which he'd peeled the foreskin, split her soft, damp, warm cuntlips. He took a deep breath and shoved his hips lightly forward, his husky cock sinking in blissful relief into his wife's obscenely displayed, totally primed cunt. Holding her by the hips, he sank to the hilt with a smack as she let go her hairlips and drove back on him, gurgling in a faraway voice, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck hard!"

Holding her tailend aloft to be slammed into by an anonymous stranger, Kathy had never felt more wanton. She thought that this was as wanton as anyone could ever act, but she was helplessly in the grip of it. She was an animal, an animal with the gift of speech, gurgling, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" until this stranger began to slam into her with such brutal ravaging force, that her teeth literally rattled and she could only moan unintelligible obscenities deep in her throat, her muscles tighteningthose vaginal muscles she was just beginning to know how to usein a firm grip on the brutally skewering cock. Kathy, her breath whistling through her nose, knew she was on the verge of being shattered, the tide rising to break the dam.

His wife's wantonness had surpassed Tom's wildest imaginings. He'd never possessed any woman in his life quite like this, and before marrying he'd been around. This was it as far as he was concerned.

When Kathy reared upher position was such that she would have fallen over backward had she not been skewered on his thrusting cock, but she reared anyway, blindly, her arms clawing at the air like the forelegs of a horsedriving her cunt hard onto his raw throbbing cock. Tom felt it, felt it coming on from the tips of his toes as he snorted through his nose, clutched his wife's hobbling breasts in a death grip, and felt his overladen testicles explode, his great cock swelling as it fired hot cum into this wild woman whinnying through her nose as she clawed air and threw herself on the exploding impaling stake.

"Aaiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!" she shrieked as she felt her womb fill and overflow. "Ah! Ah! Aaiiiiieeeeeee!"

"Fuck. Holy Jesus, Christ. Crap." Tom cried as his spine quaked, "Argggghhhh!"

And their cries of delirium mingled, filling the house.

When his trembling spent sagged into his arms, Tom lowered her onto the bed, easing his dwindling cock out with a pop.

Not until she had gotten her breath, sighing several times, did Kathy think to raise her blindfold and discover who this king of all stallions was. A smile spread over her face, a deep smile. "Oh Tom!" she said, "I'm so glad!" She could not have meant it more. It was the most wanton, the best fuck she'd ever given; it was only fitting Tom should receive it.

"Well," he said, his feelings a bit mixed, "I guess I am, too. All things considered."

"Bravo!" Jack cried from the door.

Tom looked up and there the two young men stood. They had been roused when Kathy did not return with their drinks, and directed to the bedroom by the sound of passion. Tom frowned, still not knowing what he was going to do.

"Hey, wait a minute," Jack said. "All you gotta do is ease up on the regulations a bit, and we'll have our own field to play in, remember that."

Kathy found herself hating the boysnot permanently, surely, but for the moment. Why couldn't they get up and leave graciously?

"Got your promise?" Tom asked. "I'll lift the dorm ban in the morning. Will that mean the riot is over?" Jack and George looked at each other. "Sure," George said. "We don't want to reelect the governor any

more than you do."

"Good," Tom said, taking a step closer to them. "I suppose I ought to thank youyou've done me a favor, you know, loosening up my wife a bit." The boys shrugged.

"However," Tom said, recognizing these boys now, having seen files on them, and hating them for the repeated riotsand, perhaps, there was a bit of husbandly rage mingled with the other, "for the rest of it, I owe you this!" And so saying, he raised his huge fist high in the air and brought it down with a bone-popping smash directly on the bridge of Jack's nose, smashing it all over his face. Jack fell to the floor, unconscious and bleeding. "Get him out of here," Tom said to the bewildered George, "and if anybody asks who gave it to him, feel free to say!"