Chapter 5
Alison's older sister, Monica, came in here and fucked me, Clay thought, having turned out the light and flopped again on the rumpled bed. And all that business downstairs...Alison must have known Monica was feeling me up, too...and later she-Alison-was so adamant that I be quiet when she joined me.. . .
Hell, it must have been a conspiracy! Alison had wanted her sister to ball with him...and the two women had arranged it, set him up I
I've been used, Clay McConnel thought.
And then he thought: OKI
Slipping slowly off into sleep, he wondered what the hell else was going on in this crazy nutty sexy household.. . .
Melanie Spencer grunted when the gardener's hairy thighs impacted her quivering buns and jarred her forward. Tony's hands seized her though, by the buttocks. He held her steady at the same time as his fingers spread wide her ass-cheeks.
Behind her, the muscular, wiry young man began a slow motion of his hips that ground his nice hard cock into his boss's daughter...ground him ever deeper into her distended ass-hole. His hip wagging action widened still more the little funnel of her stretched and straining cloakcal passage.
Tiny moans, blissful whimper sounds, slid from the girl's parted lips. She could feel him, all of him, all his nice sturdy cock, far up in the tight reaches of her torrid ass.
She twisted her head to look over to her left. Melanie smiled.
On her knees, Tony's latex-corseted wife had her blonde head bent over male loins. But it was not her husband that Debbie sucked. His crotch was tight up against Melanie's butt, and his cock was buried in the hot hole between them.
Debbie was bobbing her head, gliding her hot little pink-tinted lips up and down the saliva-coated shaft of Edmund's cock.
As Melanie looked that way, her brother reached down and shoved his gloved fingers into Debbie's fluffy blonde hair, just above the forehead. He tugged; Melanie could see the other girl's eyebrows rise as the skin of her forehead was pulled up. Debbie's mouth left Edmund's prick with a slurp. A big drip of saliva fell from its wet tip. The kneeling wife of the gardener looked up at the employer's son.
"That's enough for now, Deb. That was lovely. You look wonderful on your knees, too, with your face stuffed up with cock. Don't you think so, Tony?"
Tony lunged into Melanie's ass and held. "Oh shit yes," he said.
"And now for your reward, Deb," Edmund said. He released the blonde's forelock.
She trembled in excitement, watching with happy anticipation while the booted man went over and broke a switch off the apple tree.
He turned back to her. "OK, Debbie, turn it up!"
"Ah," Tony said, watching the other couple while he buggered the kneeling Melanie.
But Debbie didn't have to be told. She was already delightedly assuming the position for what she loved, had to have: harsh attention. Her naked ass was elevated high and white and rounded, eagerly awaiting the hard strokes of the apple tree's switch that Edmund began to land on the pretty tail cheeks she so willingly proffered.
"Uh," Debbie grunted, when he left the first dark stripe across both juicy-looking mounds of her full-blooming ass. "Um-m-mmmMMM!" She wagged her hips, teasing him, inviting harsher blows.
Boy, Melanie Spencer thought while her father's gardener shoved his cock in and out of her ass-hole, what a kinky kook that Debbie is!
Awaking with an incredible erection, Clay lay still and tried to think it away. No go. He wasn't horny. His prick was piss-hard. At last, with a sigh of resignation, he got up, stumbled in the dark, found his robe. He pulled it on and went to the door, forgetting that he had a bathroom right here as part of his room.
He went the short distance down the hall, past closed doors, and into the bathroom. Closing that door, too, he sighed gratefully as he emptied his bladder. Since he was in a strange household-strange, and how he thought-he directed the yellow stream at the side of the toilet bowl, so as to make less noise. He closed the seat before he flushed, too, and then dutifully washed his hands.
First turning off the light, he opened the door and left the bathroom.
He hadn't got three steps along the corridor, dimly lit by the light down by the stairs, before he heard the moaning sound. Standing still, he bit his lip.
None of my business, he thought.
Mo-o-o-oa-nnnnnnn, he heard.
Coming from behind that door, he thought, gazing at the closed wooden portal in question. None of my business, he told himself again.
He heard: "Hu-u-u-uhh-nnnnNNNHHH . .
None of my business, he told himself a third time. And mentally replied: So fucking what?
A look up and down the hall told him that other doors remained secured, all except his own, and that he was very much alone.
Clay crossed the hall, walked two steps on the running carpet, and listened at the door that seemed to be moaning. More sounds came from inside. He looked both ways again. No one. Clay bent over and applied the eye of curiosity to the keyhole in the old house's old-fashioned door.
He thought: Jesus!
He saw: Brian Spencer. And Mary the maid. And Sexton the butler.
Brian, naked, sat on the bed, sort of lengthwise, with one leg stretched out on it. The other foot was on the floor. Mary knelt on the bed's very edge, one hand on his thigh and the other at his nipple. She was running her talented head up and down his cock.
Mary was not naked. She wore an extremely sexy little baby doll, red with black lace trim in scallops, and totally sheer. On the bed beside her, lay the abbreviated red panties of that Super sexy nightie. Its scalloped little skirt was fucked up onto the shelf formed above her upturned out-poked buttocks.
The butler, very, very thin indeed in his almost hairless nudity, was on the bed, too. He was fucking Mary from behind, while she sucked their boss's cock.
The moans Clay had heard came from all three of them. They were the happiest trio he could have imagined. Just the three of them, boss and servants. Fuckin' and suckin'.
Unconsciously fingering his own penis, Clay watched the way the naked butler's tiny ass-cheeks tightened up, creasing deeply, as the tall man swung his hips back and forth. It was his fucking motions, his hands pulling and pushing at the hips of the kneeling girl, that sent her open, slurping mouth on its gliding path up and down the stalk of Brian's fat hard-on.
The female voice had said "HUH!" and "Oh-AHH!" no less than three times before Clay realized that it was not Mary; her mouth was effectively stoppered against such wide-mouthed sounds of sensuous appreciation!
Still bent over, he looked up and down the hall. It remained deserted but for himself.
"Hu-u-uNNNGHHHH f
Oh, he mused, straightening. That sound came from that door, not this one! He shook his head. Oh well. Gonna be a keyhole peeper, I might as well do a thorough job of it! Voyeurism seems to be about the only kink that isn't going on around here tonight!
He was wrong.
Ambling a few steps down the hall and bending again, he peered into another nicely-lit room. This, obviously, was the master bedroom. Where Brian and Alexandra slept. Except that Brian was busy elsewhere. And his big Amazonian wife certainly wasn't sleeping!
My God!
Things had got a little more personal, and a lot kinkier. Through the keyhole of the master bedroom's door, Clay was now watching his wife-to-be sucking cunt...her mother's cunt!
It's a sexual circus around this damned place! Clay mused, with his fourth erection of the day prodding upward under his robe. God...and I expected a set of prim, old-fashioned parents. Hell, here I'm the one who's old-fashioned!
Gazing in at the corseted young brunette with the big tits rooting away between the latex-stock-tinged thighs of the corseted older brunette with the even bigger tits, Clay set about revising his thinking and his sexual attitudes.
He knew damned well Alison was no Lesbian. She was a four-alarm fire in bed-with him I Tonight she had sent him her needy older sister-he felt he could be sure of that, now. And Alexandra...had she sent her husband down to what Clay assumed must be Mary's room, to get sucked...while Alexandra got her pussy licked and sucked...by her daughter?
Jesus, he thought.
And then, Probably. These people are out of my league!
And then, with his lips tight and his resolve just as firm, Clay McConnel thought, I'll be goddamned if they are! I'll fucking well join their fucking league!
With that thought, he straightened, took a firm grip on himself and the doorknob, and turned the latter. He entered that carnal and incestuous bedroom, and closed the door behind him.
"You two need any help or is this strictly a family affair?"
Two bosomy brunettes turned blue eyes on him. Moistness from her mother's vaginal mouth sparkled on Alison's chin. The tip of her tongue appeared, traced over her lips.
"What-what are you doing up?" Alison asked. It was better than nothing, Clay supposed.
He stared at the mother and daughter Lesbian team on the bed.
"Well...after Monica came in and balled me, I went to sleep. A while ago I woke. Had to piss. I did. Heard noises, and saw Brian and Mary and Sexton, making it down the hall. Heard more noises and found you two." He paused, considered. "Yeah, that's it. That's pretty well what I'm doing up, Alison."
Mother and daughter looked at him. On her hands and knees between Alexandra's big forked thighs, Alison sighed, and her dangling tits twitched so that the nipples seemed to trace out designs above the other woman's body. Alison, he saw, wore pink lipstick. Her mother's mouth was fiery, glistening red.
"No," Alexandra said at last, and he was astonished that neither of the two appeared nonplussed by his appearance, his discovery of their girlstuff games. "We don't need help, Clay. But no, it isn't strictly a family affair, either. Do come in, Clay."
Alison smiled. "He is in."
"It might be better if you switched off the light?" Alexandra suggested.
Clay thought about that. He'd hate to miss the sight of the two most naked female bodies, decorated and enhanced as they were by the latex garments that made them even sexier, more lewdly sexy. But-yeah. Maybe it would be better, all around, if he turned off the bright overhead light. Backing up a pace, he reached behind him. Found the switch. Cut off the light-without a snap; the house was equipped throughout with silent mercury switches.
He stood awhile in the darkness, noting that a good deal of moonlight sneaked in through the undraped window. His eyes grew accustomed to that far dimmer light. The room became visible, the bed; the obscenely posed female bodies. He could see, in a sexily dim light.
Mother and daughter, he thought. Jesus.
And son-in-law to-be, he added mentally.
Then Clay took off his robe. Letting it drop to the floor in a little puddle of cloth, he stepped away from it. The young man went to join the young woman, and the older one, on the large bed.
"Don't let me interrupt you, Alison," he said, running a hand possessively over her nakedly upturned rump. "Go right on with what you were doing."
He heard Alexandra chuckle, and wondered just how much he dared with his future mother-in-law...the big sexy wench I
"Oh," Alison said, "uh...I...uh, Cla-ay...."
His hand suddenly gripped her chin. In the dimness, each could barely see the other's eyes as he shoved his face close up to hers, while he held it turned his way. He had not yet decided whether to be shocked, or mad, or glad; horrified or delighted or just accepting. It had all happened too fast. He had surprised himself by walking in on them, and they had shocked him right back, by being so cool and accepting of the interruption and his suggestion that he join them.
"Eat your mother," he said in a low, vibrant voice. "Alexandra's waiting, Alison. Eat your mother!"
"Ummmm," Alexandra said lazily, throatily. In addition to her latex corset and hose, the big woman wore gloves; long ones, tight and black, that rose past her elbows. They were of some soft, cool leather, the naked young man learned, when her hand came up to cup his testicles from beneath.
"What a lovely and nice and forceful man you are, Clay," Alexandra purred.
If there remained any ice to be broken, the way she cupped and fondled with slowly moving, gloved fingers the large well-stuffed pouch of his balls took care of it.
"You'd better do what he says, darling," Alexandra's softly purring voice went on, throaty and vibrant with a wanton's natural sexiness. "I'd hate to make him mad and have him leave us, now that this lovely and nice and forceful man has joined us."
Clay dropped one hand onto a massive pile of jiggly white flesh that lay mounded on Alexandra's chest. So broad-based and full were her tits that his hand did not cover it. He pressed down, his palm over a nipple like a large hard marble.
"I don't need a top sergeant to pass on what I say, Alexandra," he told her.
Alexandra said nothing. She just stepped up her manual stimulation of his balls, her long gloved fingers rising up to the hairy base of his penis.
Slowly, her daughter bent her head. Down and down, black hair toppling onto her mother's white thighs and black-sheathed belly. She roamed the other woman with soft hot wet diving tongue, pushing it sensuously over and into the wet flutter of her vaginal hole, letting it glide over slippery inner labia that were red as fire, withdrawing it from that juicy little slice to lick its engorged outer lips.
Then Alison's tongue traced out the entirety of her mother's pelvic perimeter, leaving it wet and glistening.
Alexandra's hand worked avidly at creating a monster between Clay's thighs. She moaned and quivered when her daughter's tongue tip trailed, very lightly, over the lips that guarded her belly's hot gap-and they opened to receive the incestuously Lesbianizing tongue.
All the while, Alexandra's hand worked over Clay's prick and balls, and his hand continued its tit-play. He was fascinated with the woman's breasts, which were fat and round, heavily padded with sexy female tissues. Except for a couple of pictures that could only be called gross, these were the biggest tits he had ever seen, much less had spread out so sumptuously before him to thrill and be thrilled by his amorous hands.
His fingers began toying with her firming nipples.
She sucked in a little gaspy breath and clamped his cockshaft.
He set his thumbs to her cherry-pink extrusions, grinning salaciously, teasing down at her. The supine brunette sighed and quivered, jerking her head as he began pushing with both thumbs.
"Uh...o-ohhh . .
Spurred by those throaty sounds of voluptuary pleasure from the woman she was gamahuching Alison began flicking her tongue rapidly bade and forth over her mother's clitoris.
The male intruder into their family games, meanwhile, pressed in with both thumbs. He managed to push both soft pouting mushrooms out of sight, burying them in the chalky bulges o tit flesh that he squeezed teasingly over them. She was gasping, stirring erratically.
He could feel them still, nipples that were firm and resilient and quivering with sensual yearning, hard lumps in the white flesh of her mammoth milk balls. He rolled them under his thumbs and they became harder within their encasement of rich flesh.
Lifting his thumbs, he watched the soft con formations of erectile flesh emerge. They rolled up out of their masses of marshmallow-like flesh to spear angrily up from her, juicily erect and in-flamed-looking.
While her gloved hand slipped sleekly up and down the now towering rod of his cock, he bent over her chest, He drew a lot of hard nipple into his mouth and began licking and sucking and giving it toothy little nips. With a grunt, Alexandra popped off an orgasm.
Drawing her mother's clit into her mouth, Alison began sucking and licking it and teasing the squirming big woman with toothy little nips to her body's very most sensitive flesh.
One hand worked on his cock; the other pressed to the back of his head, to urge Clay's mouth down onto Alexandra's high-mounded breasts.
His application of suction drew the thick stubby crown into his face. His tongue, applied stiffly to its very tip, pushed it out again. He held his mouth just so that her nipple had to scrape between his teeth as it was expelled. Then he sucked it in again. And tongued it out.
Moving restlessly into a better position and sighing around her prodigiously stiffening nipple, he speeded up his activity, until the thick tit-tip was squirting rapidly in and out of his face and saliva flowed forth to slide down the great sensuous curves of her breast. Groaning, Alexandra lurched in another orgasm.
He kept it up, pulling her nipple in and out, maintaining a slow and semi-gentle rhythm of tit-sucking that was excruciatingly pleasant. His fourth hard-on of the day stood out from his body, on an uptilting tangent with a bit of backcurve, thick and tumid and full of infusing blood. More flowed in to increase the stiffness as his heart beat with furious pulses and the frenetically aroused woman pumped her gloved hand up and down, up and down, from glans to balls and back again. Sweet feminine tongue tugged and tweaked the similar, much smaller hard-on stabbing out between the hot wet lips of her pussy. Sultry sap was pumping out of the silky curls that covered the tingling, blissful vaginal sheath. Her straining, throbbing clit was rock-hard, getting a thorough tongue-washing that had her writhing and trying to squirm all over the bed. She gasped and groaned. Another fiery jolt stabbed through her corseted belly, and she made a throaty groaning sound in that new orgasm. Teeth tightened more and more around her nipple, into her nipple. When she made no objection, he clamped it harder and began moving his mouth, deliberately making his teeth grate over that elongated bud. Throughout her sprawled big body, tension crumbled. Sweat popped from every pore.
Alexandra came again.
She began sobbing. "Please, oh please darling...no mo-o-orre...I can't STAND anymore!"
Her free hand pushed at her daughter's black-tressed head. Her other hand continued pumping the cock of her daughter's boyfriend.
He reached down and laced his fingers into Alison's flowing black locks. He tugged. With a slurping popping sound of released suction, her pink mouth came away from her mother's scarlet pussy. Saliva and cunt juice ran down Alison's chin as, on her hands and knees, she gazed from smoky eyes into his face.
Sliding down her soft hair, his hand left her. It came up under her, cupped one dangling breast. She was turned on, he found; the whole breast felt swollen and hard as a rubber ball, while the nipple had hardened into a stiff scarlet point, long and tumidly fat, like a .38 cartridge perched somehow on the end of her breast.
A wild thought came racing into Clay's head, and he grinned.
Alexandra was half out of it with her surfeit of pleasure. Clay pulled at Alison's tit until the girl flopped forward, sprawling on her mother's prostrate form and making the bigger woman grunt. Leaning on one of Alexandra's mighty mammaries, Clay kissed his woman.
"Your mother needs to be fucked."
"And how," Alison whispered. "Her crotch has developed a hole big enough to handle even that baseball bat of yours, and enough juice to fill a lemonade pitcher! But...darn it, I want that thing," she said, pressing his cock, her hand resting in her mother's gloved palm; the older woman's hand had dropped open. "She's had it all!"
"Ever tit-fucked her?"
"What?"
Clay squeezed the girl's big hard breast. "This is a hard cone...and you said she's well juiced and wide open. Scramble down there and work it into her."
"Good God! That...weird!"
"Oh, heavens to Betsy," Clay said, squeezing her breast, "I'd hate to think that anything weird happened in this house!"
Alison giggled. "Smarty! If...if I try that, what are you going to do?"
"Get behind you and give you a deep injection of baseball bat."
"Oh!" She shivered at the pleasurable thought. "I-I guess we could try...." She ducked her head, kissed his forearm. "Help me?"
"Uh...oh-m-m-mmm," her mother groaned.
Clay helped. He swung astride Alexandra, pillowing the cushions of his ass on the plump cushions of her tits-which were bigger and far more well-padded. Alison moved back and back, down between her mother's black-stockinged legs, and got into a precarious position, poised, with her big-nippled tit just at the wet open mouth of Alexandra's glistening red cunt.
With both hands, Clay distended the already gaping, pulpy lips.
"Uhhhh..." Alexandra groaned, shifting. Her gloved hand traced over his ass. "Ummmm ah "
With oily labia drawn well aside, Alison's nipple slipped from sight into her mother's pussy.
"Oh!" Alexandra said, as more hard, soft-skinned cone came pressing into her vaginal mouth. It felt strained; Clay was holding the lips wide.
Reaching back, the supine woman got a pillow under her head, then clapsed his naked buttocks with both hands.
"Ah! Oh damn!" he exclaimed, shivering, when he felt first her warm breath and then the fluttery, teasing strokes of her tongue up and down his asscrease.
With the first inch and a half of her breast forced into her mother's cunt, Alison looked questioningly up at him. "What's the matter?"
"NOTHING!"
Suddenly Alison really shocked him: "Mother! I know what you're doing! If your tongue in his ass makes him stay there and I don't get screwed tonight, I'll bite your damned predatory labia off!"
"Good lord!" Clay blurted.
Air rushed into his asscrease as the woman on whose tits he sat giggled. Her lips moving against his sensitive flesh and her voice muffled by it, she said, "Gla'. "
"Hmm?" He reached back to press one big roll of titflesh that was squelched sidewardly out by the pressure of his butt.
"You 'etter go huck my 'aughter behore I get 'itten!"
He decided that was "You'd better go fuck my daughter before I get bitten," and he laughed. Alexandra didn't even know what it was that was stuffed up her sapping pussy...the first three inches of Alison's breast, which that far back on its illustriously swollen cone must be three inches in diameter. His hands were no longer necessary to hold open the woman's pouchlips; Alison's breast had them straining in a big hot pink oval! Alexandra took it so easily because tits were not cock-hard.
"Just...get it right in, and wiggle it around," the completely captivated man said, without indicating to which woman his words were directed.
Both responded. Shoving her ripe young breast-turret into the gaping wet maw of her mother's crotch, Alison began moving her shoulders, making the breast slip in and out and move from side to side, actually straining the other woman's vulvar lips. Those slippery labia yielded more than the girl's boldly solid breast.
At the same time, Alexandra prodded hard with her soft pink tongue at the little crater of his ass-hole. Tongue-tip breached the slippery, clenching passage to try and challenge his annular muscles, and he quivered with delight and pleasure.
The slippery sliding of her delicate little female tongue up his ass-hole spurred his masculine ego, aroused sensual yearnings in him until the naked man began panting and squirming.
Bending forward, he gave her more ass at the same time as he pushed his thumb into Alison's mouth. She swirled spit around it and sucked sensuously-at the same time as the prone young woman continued moving her tit about inside her mother's sluicing wet cunt. And the older woman, with one leather-gloved hand clasping and pressing each of his ass-cheeks, did her best to impale his rectum with a tongue that was stiff as she could possibly make it.
Hot sensations rose up through his lower belly until he shuddered, though he was far from cold. Powerful desire made him feel dizzy. Before him stood a monster hard-on that was granite-hard and thicker than he had seen it in ages, a lust-maddened male weapon that absolutely had to be sheathed in a female scabbard, that was tortured and aching as though it had not eased its lust in a month-rather than three times in the previous eleven or so hours.
He hated to leave the sweet tongue up his ass. But the call of his cock was more powerful.
Alexandra sighed and dropped her black-gloved hands onto the white pillows of her tits when his butt left them and air surged coolly over the quivery masses.
Alison grinned hugely when he moved around behind her. She pushed her ass up as high as she could get it, without dislodging her breast from inside the hot wet clasp of her mother's vagina. A shiver of delight and lustful anticipation surged through the young women when his hands came onto the upturned rounds of her bottom. She wiggled in an obscene invitation, knowing her ass was white and that he could see, even in the room's dimness, the curly bush of jet black pussy hair that poked back between her thighs.
He saw it all right. Just as violent as he had been this afternoon-rather, yesterday afternoon-he crammed his violently swollen and pulsing cock into that furry nest and clove through the pulpy flesh it covered.
Alison lurched forward with the suddenness and force of his rearward entry. Hers and her mother's groans leaped up simultaneously. Alison felt the double sensation of violently impaled pussy and suddenly hard-squeezed tit. Alexandra felt only the former-the most pressure being at the outer reaches of her cunt, where she was most sensitive, for she was now being grotesquely dilated at the cunt-mouth by a breast whose mass was in her more than halfway to its base. Though it was pliable, not so hard as a cock, it was very broad and spread her painfully. Had that pussy-dilating tit been as unyieldingly hard as the stave ramming up her daughter's cunt from behind, Alexandra would surely have been torn bloodily open.
Clay's hard fast lunges were violent, rooting. The impacts of his body against Alison's backside drove her forward, and her tit was nearly swallowed in pulpy, marshy wet vaginal membranes.
The naked man, more highly aroused than he had ever been in his life, thought of none of that. All he could think of was letting his body do its thing. That precluded thought, blotted out the feel of anything but his balls swinging against Alison and his cock slamming through her squirmy in-sides, the smell of cunt and cuntal sap, the sound of slapping flesh and grunts and groans and moans, some of which were his own.
He made her jerk and quiver, rammed her rump until she was moaning and babbling with the pleasure of taking his full length from behind while his hips pounded the snowy ass-globes thrusting out above her silky thighs.
He skewered her deep. Her breast skewered her mother's cunt, broadly and to a depth of perhaps five inches-and more.
"All the way!" Alison squealed. "Push it in all the way!"
"Y-yes!" her mother seconded, groaning and squirming, helplessly impaled, egregiously dilated and unable not to love it and want more, more.
Behind Alison the straining man grunted: "Oh baby-I'm mashing your ass-cheeks now!"
"CRUSH them then!"
He tried. With every violently splatting in-stroke his scrotum swung to smack beneath her and his body slammed into her meaty rear cheeks. Cock drove far into her, hurling aside every internal tissue. But always it withdrew, as if teasing her to return with a hot-hard-long plumbing plunging rush that was far more urgent than teasing.
Suddenly Alexandra's hands were out, grabbing, clutching her daughter's unencunted breast and sinking deeply into it was leather-sheathed fingers. She pulled the thick nipple, hard, mercilessly, making it stretch far away from the breast, which was also stretching. Its twin strained into the slippery wet cunt even more deeply.
Clay pounded and lunged into the hot pudding-like morass that consumed that shaft of hard flesh.
With a loud cry, Alexandra came still again and went very limp.
Another cry rose, and the girl impaled on Clay's prick went rigid. He felt her cunt clamping on his dick as she came, and with a groan he let himself be milked, milky fluids squirting from his cock into her receptive chamber.
All three of them lay in a state of utter collapse for a long while, completely fucked out. After several minutes, Clay rolled onto his side. A minute or so after that, Alison extracted her come-smeared breast from her mother's pussy with a sound like that of a rubber-shod foot being dragged out of quicksand.
Alexandra groaned at that, clamped both hands to her vulva, and hunched onto her side. She partially curled, fetally.
It was then that Clay McConnel got his first look at Alison Spencer's mother's ass.
The Valkyrian Alexandra had an inch-long stretched well into her right buttock, where it bulged whitely from beneath her black latex corset. Studying that big capital S with wide eyes, Clay realized that it had been branded there.
Jesus, he thought. Men talk about putting a brand on their women...old Brian Spencer did! An S for Spencer, burned into her big right ham!
A few minutes later, a weary Alison returned him, wearily, to his own room. There he collapsed on the bed and slept instantly and very soundly.