Chapter 13
The thousand sounds made by Essie and Sy Enders in the throes of their passion reached out of Myrna's bedroom, across the hall, and into Laura's bedroom. Both Alan Kal and Laura heard the sounds, and after a while, when the noise hadn't abated, they decided to check.
Laura dressed in a pair of blue slacks with a matching blouse while Alan Kal went through the connecting bathroom to the room assigned him and put on a white shirt and a purple suit he'd had especially made for him. He also slipped on his belt holster with the efficient thirty-eight caliber Smith & Wesson pistol. He carried two dozen extra shells in the pockets of his jacket.
Kal returned to Laura's bedroom and the pair left, crossing the hall and walking to Myrna's door. They pressed their ears to the door and listened. They could hear the voice of Essie Enders sobbing, saying, "My God! The curse really exists. And now I've let you fuck me. Now the curse will descend on me as well as on my husband."
"No," the hollow voice of Sy Enders told her. "The curse can only be extended through bloodlines, and if your husband has the Enders blood in him, then you cannot be affected by it. But now, after I've finished dressing, I must go in search of the other Bo-Peep so I can render my service unto her."
"But she's my daughter," Essie wept. "You mustn't."
"The curse must be fulfilled," Sy intoned.
"It's him," Kal whispered to Laura. "He's come after all, and now he's looking for you and your sister. We have to get the two of you out of here."
Taking Laura by the arm, Kal led her to the stairs and ushered her downstairs where both put their coats on. Just as they were about to leave, Dick Mario and Myrna Enders re-entered the house.
"Come on," Kal said to Myrna. "We have to get out of here in one helluva hurry. The family curse is upstairs in one of the bedrooms, looking for you and Laura. We overheard him talking with your mother."
"Hey," Dick said. "I'll bet that fuckin' Mickey's been makin' it with your mother."
"Mother wouldn't let him near her," Myrna retorted.
"She would if she thought he was me. When I woke up in that bathtub and saw the light comin' from your fuckin' room, I thought Mickey was in there with you. But he musta been in the other fuckin' room."
That is mother's room," Laura nodded. "But we heard the voices coming from Myrna's room."
"So they all musta gone into the other fuckin' bedroom. I'll bet Mickey's in there, too. I'm gonna give him a piece of my fuckin' mind." And before anyone could stop Dick, he was running up the stairs.
"Let's get out of here," Kal muttered, and led both Laura and Myrna outside and down the steps to his Pinto.
Jamming both girls together in the right front seat, Kal got behind the wheel of his car, started it up, and started it moving through the fallen snow like a frightened rabbit. He had to get both girls as far away as possible.
Dick Mario, remembering where Myrna's room was, flung the door open and confronted the hypnotized Mickey.
"Hey you fuckin' bastard," he snapped. "What's the idea of whackin' me on the head with that blackjack?"
Mickey stood there for a moment, not moving, then with a quick movement, raised his hand and snapped it down again, cracking Dick on the head again. The tall, lanky, service station partner simply crumpled to the floor.
"'very well done," Sy Enders congratulated, now fully dressed. "I must leave now," he continued, "but so that this lady doesn't leave and give the alarm, I must ask you to detain her."
Slowly, Mickey turned toward Essie Enders, raising the blackjack again.
"No," Essie screamed. "Don't hit me."
"Not that way," Sy told Mickey. "Use your natural stick on her."
"No," Essie screamed again. "No, don't come near me."
"On your knees," Sy said to her, his eyes burning into her.
Slowly, very slowly, Essie sank to her knees, still babbling.
"Now put your cock in her mouth and silence her," Sy commanded.
When Essie would have struggled, Sy tore a strip of cloth from her costume and tied her hands behind her back. Then he released the mental hold he had on her mind, making certain she was on her knees directly in front of Mickey. When she opened her mouth to scream, he rammed his tool right to the back of her throat, his hands gripping her ears to keep her in place.
"You won't need this any more," Sy said, taking the blackjack from Mickey and dumping it on the floor, near the unconscious Dick. Then he left the room.
The tingle he felt within him was getting weaker and weaker. That could only mean one thing: the woman with whom he was supposed to mate was moving farther and farther away from him. He had to get to her. In less than three and a half hours the dawn would break, and the moment the first ray of sunlight touched him, he would dissolve. Once that happened he'd be on his way to the eternal depths. The only remaining question was, would he spend forever with or without Rochelle? He knew the Lower Regions was his final destination. After all, having fucked Rochelle he had, in effect, committed the horrible crime of incest, even if he hadn't known it at the time. That, by itself, assured him of a permanent berth in the Devil's homeland. But he knew if he accomplished his mission, if he fired his seed into his descendant, his soul would be permitted to join with that of Rochelle.
When alive, Sy Enders had been a very enterprising man. Making money had been an Enders tradition, and he had been very capable in continuing that tradition.
In his early youth, prior to his twenty-first birthday, he had been a whoreson, fucking every female he could get his hands on. He'd impregnated more than five dozen farmers' daughters living in and around Endersville, and because he had enough money to pay them all off, not one farmer had come after him with a shotgun.
As a result of Sir Lawrence's having raped and burned a witch, the entire Enders Family moved to New York, selling off the family lands for a goodly sum. The money was invested in the slave trade, and prior to the Civil War, when the Enders Family had been forced to withdraw from said occupation, the family fortune was better than fifty million dollars. More wise investments helped to triple that sum by the time Sy Enders came into his inheritance.
There were those in the business world who, because they'd improperly mixed pleasure with business, had lost all their money. There were others who believed it was impossible to mix business with pleasure, and so they had wisely reserved certain hours of the day for business and other hours for pleasure.
Sy Enders was one of those rare individuals who knew how to mix the two of them and make it work. During his lifetime he proved himself insatiable, always ready to raise a more-than-seven inch hard-on whenever the occasion demanded it. He wooed the daughters of not less than seventeen prospective business associates, literally fucking every daughter so he could figuratively fuck their fathers. And he succeeded every time.
Perhaps Sy's fondest memory had been of the time he'd scored with the triplets of a shipping magnate. One day, when the magnate had been out of town, Sy had gone a courtin', and paid his respects to the triplets, then eighteen years of age, and as identical as it was possible for triplets to be. He had invited them to show him their respective bedrooms, and in front of the other two, convinced each one that he loved her, and her alone.
It was in the third triplet's bedroom he had convinced all three to undress, to see if it was possible for him to tell them apart. And as all three undressed, so did he, and they stood there in awe of his mighty poker.
All three girls lay down on the bed, side by side, and Sy Enders hovered above them, looking at three perfectly matched sets of tits. Three sets of white globes with pink tips and pinker nipples. He bent his head and ran his tongue across all six nipples, touching nothing but the nipples and immediately causing each girl to start creaming. Each nipple, in turn, began to swell and enlarge, growing redder as if blushing from the treatment it was receiving. Then he let his tongue rove all over the three bodies, and three sets of legs spread wide, expecting to feel the silken caress of his mouth.
The girls' names were Mona, Nona, and Rona, and never the slacker, Sy Enders was determined to give each girl two climaxes. And he was equally determined to enjoy each of them.
The first thing he discovered was, all three girls were virgins. It was a condition he would eventually alleviate, but not just yet.
He had Mona he on the bed with her head on the pillow. Nona was to lie on the bed with her head in the center of the bed and her legs dangling over. Rona was to stand behind him and kneel, once he was on the bed.
So he had gotten on the bed and slipped his randy cock into Nona's mouth. Nona, who hadn't quite been prepared for it, almost choked, squeezing his cockhead between her jaws. Sy meanwhile had planted his face in Mona's crotch and had used his tongue like an anteater, reaming the soaking hole around and around, draining it of all its slippery secretions, while Rona had been bent over him licking his balls. After Mona had come, Sy had moved Nona up into place, while Rona had gotten under him and continued working on his cock. Long before Sy felt anything, Nona had peaked, and then Rona had replaced her, while Mona did the cock sucking and Nona had worked on his balls.
He had fucked the three girls separately immediately after, firing a load of cream into each of them. It later turned out to be their fertile time of the month, which caused him to sire sons on all three girls. But at the time all three enjoyed him immensely. Neither Nona nor Rona cared that Sy's cock was covered with Mona's virgin blood when he plunged it into them.
When the maid walked in and saw what he was doing, Sy jumped her, hauled her down to the bed, and with the help of the three girls, undressed her and fucked her, as well. He was all set to perform a little sodomy on the maid's tight asshole when the girls' father had come home. So he'd gathered up his clothes and hurried out the rear door while the girls hurriedly dressed.
Naked as the proverbial jaybird, Sy ran directly into the home next door to the one he'd left, and there encountered two lesbians, both married women, who were having a secret rendezvous. In order that Sy not give them away, the two lesbians submitted to having their cunts fucked, as well.
Neither of them thought to wonder at Sy's nakedness when he'd first entered the house.
Thus it was, Sy Enders had reached six separate orgasms of his own within a three hour period, and probably would have come once or twice more, had he been given the opportunity. So it was no wonder now, in the present, after having been thoroughly blown by Nora Evans and having pounded Essie's pussy so completely, that he still felt the urge to go on fucking. This was especially true since his place, in purgatory depended on his sinking his prick into the proper cunt before the coming dawn.
Hurrying down the stairs, Sy Enders stepped out into the frigid night, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. He had to find the descendant to whom he felt attracted and do what needed doing.
The black of the night was no barrier to him with his supernormal vision. The icy wind, cutting like a knife through everything and everyone else went unfelt by him. It seemed to pass through him as if he wasn't there.
The winking stars, like a trillion flashing eyes, stared down at him as he moved through the night, his feet barely touching the ground. He picked up speed as he moved, his inner senses telling him he was moving in the right direction.
His path took him through the cemetery again, and suddenly he found himself faltering. He stopped for a moment, staring at the headstone before him. He hadn't seen it when he'd first risen because it was on the other side of the cemetery.
But now it stood before him, a spectral reminder of the past.
Funny, he reflected, now his past was coming back to him en masse. He had remembered the triplets and the maid and the lesbian wives, and now, staring at the headstone, he remembered something else. It was so vivid, it sent a stalactite coursing down his already frozen spine.
The name on the headstone read Ann Massey. Staring at the cold marble brought icicles to his brain. If his ancestor, Lawrence Enders had started one curse, then Sy Enders had started another, and the thought of it terrified him.
Junius Massey had been a business competitor of the Enders Family long before Sy Enders had entered the family business. Sy's father, Steve Enders, had always referred to Junius Massey as a thorn in his side. He didn't want to merely rid himself of the competition, but wanted to take over Massey's shipping company.
Five years after Sy Enders had come into the family business, Junius Massey had suffered a coronary occlusion, and had hastily been buried. Sy Enders was gleefully certain he would be able to convince Junius's only daughter, Ann, to sell him the business cheaply. But Ann Massey was nobody's fool.
Ann Massey not only had a strict religious upbringing, but had what a woman was not supposed to have: a good business head. In the last three years her father had lived, Ann had helped him run the business and knew every facet of it. She had no intention of selling out to anyone, but rather intended building up the Massey Shipping Company.
Reinforcing Ann's abilities were her looks. She had a face and a body no man wanted, so it was no problem for her to keep her mind on business instead of romance. She was wise enough to understand that no man wanted her for herself, but rather for her money and her holdings.
Her face resembled that of a bullfrog, with a large, wide mouth, a flat nose, and two little beady eyes hidden behind large-lensed glasses. Her hair, a subdued brown, was kinky and frizzy rather than curly. And true to her father and his beliefs, she kept her, dowdy body heavily clothed, making her constantly perspire. Unfortunately, bathing was not one of her father's virtues. He believed it was healthy to drink water, but to avoid using it on the outside of his body as much as possible. Ann had followed her father's beliefs, and so not only looked like a frog, but smelled as if she lived in a swamp. And an allergy Ann had to whole milk-an allergy of which she was never aware-clogged her sinuses and prevented her from realizing how badly she smelled.
Sy Enders made no attempt to woo Ann Massey, at first. Even he had limits, or so he thought. But Ann Massey refused to sell her company. Not only that, but competition began to intensify, and Enders realized he had to do something quickly. The Enders empire was depending on him.
So it was he invited her to the Enders mansion for a weekend of business discussions. In order to keep Ann Massey off her guard, Sy had invited a few other business acquaintances, as well. But for the entire weekend Sy had gone out of his way to pay the many little attentions to Ann she'd seen given to other women but never to her. At first, she was amused by his actions, knowing he couldn't, in any way, find her attractive. Yet, Sy's persistence began to slowly get through to her. She was only flesh and blood, and though she was more than a little certain why Sy Enders was paying such careful attention to her, she found she liked it. Yet it also angered her that he should consider her so easy as to try something so completely obvious.
Thus it was, on Sunday night, when all the other businessmen had left, Ann Massey had resolved to leave as well. She had gone to her room to pack when she suddenly realized her personal maid was nowhere around. She was alone, not only in the room, but in the entire wing of the building. But her being alone didn't last long.
The door to her bedroom suddenly opened and Sy Enders filled the doorway.
"How dare you enter without knocking," she said to him in a shrill, almost piping voice.
T dare many things tonight," Sy replied. T dare because you're a woman and I'm a man."
"Hah!" Ann had laughed, but her laugh was cut off in the middle as Sy crossed the room, gathered her heavy, smelly body in his arms, and kissed her right on her bullfrog mouth.
Ann remained totally impassive, at first. It was the first time a man, any man, had kissed her, and she liked it, even though she was unwilling to admit it to herself, much less to Sy. Her conscious mind ran in a predictable channel, thinking, who did this man think he was, considering her so simple-minded as to fall for so obvious a maneuver. But long before the kiss ended her subconscious began taking control of her, and her senses, dormant all her life, suddenly came awake. And then they gained control of her. In spite of herself she found herself slowly responding.
Sy carefully took his lips from hers. He was determined to win now, and win by the age-old tactic of making love to the woman. It was important. His strategy depended on his making her respond.
"I'm sorry you did that," her high-pitched voice told him. T had some sort of respect for you until now."
"What are you talking about?" Sy asked, innocently. "You're quite a woman, and your being here this weekend made me realize it. I couldn't let you leave without letting you know my feelings."
"Mr. Enders," she retorted, "You are taking for granted the fact that I reciprocate your feelings. It implies a lack of respect on your part."
"That's nonsense. You're a woman, with a woman's feelings and a woman's soul. Surely you must have some feeling for me as well."
"I don't even know you other than as a business competitor."
"I said nothing about business. I sought to learn of your personal feelings for me."
"I have none."
"I find that hard to believe. In the two days you've been here, you've shown you have a mind superior to that of most men in the business world. And that mind is in the body of a woman. How could I help but become strongly attracted to you."
"I wish you wouldn't say such things."
"But I am saying such things," he persisted, "and I must know what you think of me as a person, not as a rival."
"I suppose you are pleasing enough in a superficial way."
"That's hardly the answer I seek. Tell me, Miss Massey. Do you, personally, find me pleasing?"
"Such delicate things are hardly to be discussed between two people who have only known one another for two days."
"But you're mistaken, Miss Massey. This is definitely the time to discuss such things. In a short while you will have left, and once you're gone, I won't have another opportunity. So, while there's no one else about, I pray you be frank with me."
"Mr. Enders, either you think too much of yourself or not enough of me."
"How can you so remark? Why you are at the very top of the list of people I respect. And now you're on top of a list of women I've come to know and admire."
"You most certainly have not behaved in a gentlemanly way."
"Quite the contrary. I have behaved in a very gentlemanly way. Yet, how gentlemanly must one be to tell a woman one feels attracted to her? I had an overwhelming urge to kiss you, and I took advantage of the fact no one else was around to surrender to that urge."
"You're confusing me," she told him.
"On the contrary," he answered. "For the first time a man is speaking to you directly, not trying to curry favor with you for some business reason. My own reasons for being here are purely personal. Now you're about to leave. I no longer have time for the usual social amenities."
"So you wish to bypass them?" she squealed, sounding like a stuck pig. "Mr. Enders, such a thing is not worthy of you."
"Your trouble is, you think every man wants something other than physical contact with you, and you've built a wall around yourself. You've been taught to avoid contact with men at all costs. And because of this you've locked yourself up in the business world. I grant you I admire your mind. I admit it draws me to you. But when one has led a life of frivolity, knowing nothing but wenches who think with their bodies rather than their minds, can you blame me, now, when the time has come for me to consider women in a more serious light, for pursuing a woman who thinks along the same lines as I?"
"What do you take me for, Mr. Enders? I'm no silly little twit to be taken in by your fancy words."
"Hasn't it occurred to you I might be telling it to you in a forthright manner? I am in no way attempting to be facetious. I'm not pretending you are someone you aren't. I'm merely claiming to have found myself attracted to the woman you are. You find me disagreeable because I didn't come to you telling you lies, plying you with candy, flowers, and hypocritical time-worn cliches. Rather I chose to be direct in the hope you were mature enough to understand, and accept or reject me according to your own personal feelings. Perhaps I've overestimated you."
Ann Massey stood there, in the picture of perfect composure for about a half second. Then her body began trembling, and losing all self-control smacked Sy Enders across his face.
"You smug, self-satisfied libertine," she whispered in what was now a high-pitched guttural tone. "You think me some common trollop, easily lulled with fancy words. I wonder how many other women you've taken to your bed in so vile a manner. Well please understand me clearly, though I wonder if there is room in your dense wooden head for my words. I am indeed a woman. I like time-worn cliches, and no matter how little time there is, were I to like a man, I'd make the time for him. I'm not one of your fancy society tarts so bored with life I've nothing better to do than invite you to make my night interesting."
She attempted to slap his face again, reddening his other cheek, but this time Sy was ready for her. He grabbed her wrist as she swung and pulled her to him, kissing her, hard.
Unable to help herself, Ann allowed her anger to be transformed into the desire which lay hidden inside her for so long. She automatically opened her huge mouth when his tongue probed into hers, no longer pretending to struggle, but seeking to match his fervor. Her emotions had come to life with a vengeance, and Sy realized how correct he had been in his estimation of her. Intense anger had swiftly become vehement desire, seeking some sort of outlet. She herself was no longer conscious of her actions.
Her arms encircled his neck, pulling him down to her. The rapid flick of her tongue stabbed his tongue, his lips, his gums, his teeth, and his palate. He felt her huge, clumsy body pressing itself to him, sensuously trying to make some kind of contact beneath the folds of her dress and many petticoats.
Pulling her lips from Sy's, Ann whispered, "Not now, not now. My coach is waiting downstairs to take me home."
"Now," he murmured. "Right now. The coachman is a servant, accustomed to waiting. Let him wait. What we have to do is more urgent."
Picking her up, he carried her to the bed and gently set her down. Realizing she had lost to her emotions, Ann Massey prepared to surrender.
Again he kissed her, and she shuddered again. His practiced fingers unbuttoned buttons, pulled strings, and unlaced laces, his lips continuing to bruise hers, his tongue roaming at will inside her cavernous mouth. His powerful arms took a moment to enfold her shapeless body as exploring hands touched her large, ungainly tits.
Swept up in a world of sensuousness, Ann remained unaware of being disrobed. He drew her petticoats over her hips, below her knees, and off, exposing her huge rump and hairy box. His fingers traveled a rhythmic route from her large ass along the pathway of her spine to her whalebone corset, which he quickly unlaced and removed. Another quick move and her bodice was gone, exposing her watermelon-sized boobs. They were matching globes, each one heavy with excess fat, centered with a light-brown nipple and surrounded by a light-brown aureole.
Previously untouched and unkissed, the nipples came to immediate attention when Sy's mouth roamed over them. He bit and sucked and pulled them with his lips. Then he took them, one at a time into his mouth and began to suck as if he was a newborn babe.
Ann moaned a low, ecstatic moan, twisting her head left and right, unable to get enough of this new feeling inside her. Her breathing was erratic, mingled with unconscious whispers. Her ungainly torso became a network of erogenous zones, and wherever Sy's fingers touched, they produced a new sensation.
The musky, unwashed fragrance of her body was strong in his nostrils and strangely arousing. He was keeping his eyes closed the entire time, pretending she was one of the beautiful bawds with whom he liked to dally. Not looking at her ugliness made it easier for him.
His hands were against both her large hips, lightly pressing on both thighs. Friction created by his palms produced an almost-unbearable warmth, causing her to involuntarily raise her ass.
Finally, Sy got to his feet, and hastily disrobed.
His huge prick strained away from him, beating the air, causing Ann to stare in amazement. She had never seen one before and had no idea what it was a man sported between his legs. Now she gazed at the cock in awe, realizing it was meant to part the virgin lips of her cunt and fill the hole inside her.
Before she could speak he was on her, covering her mouth with his. The gigantic cock, through years of practice, found its target almost instantly and slowly tried to make its way inside. Her gross body trembled, eagerly willing to accept the stanchion, painfully accepting the measure of its breadth into her virgin twat. She was lubricating heavily, which helped a lot, but not enough. There was pain as he parted the virgin labia, forcing his cock into the sopping interior and tearing through the membrane seeking to block further entrance.
Ann screamed and churned her body, pain mingling with a sensation she'd never known before. Ignoring the woman's yells, Sy continued plundering her body, ramming his cock to the very depths of her hole, partially withdrawing, and then running it in again. He repeated the maneuver yet another time, and now Ann felt the pain beginning to fade. She felt herself caught up in a tornado of fantasy, never before having experienced so delicious a feeling. She had the sensation of being airborne, suspended by nothing but that delightful cock. Every forward movement of the pole in her depths began carrying her to new heights, soaring on the wings of ten thou sand butterflies. Now her cunt came to accept the prong inside it, and her heavy labia began to suck on it, greedily.
Unbelieving, Ann suddenly realized an entirely new feeling was about to overwhelm her. It was bearing down on her at the speed of light. It was coming so quickly she had no idea how to receive it, and tried to slow her movements down in an attempt to delay the orgasm so she might better know how to receive it. But there was nothing she could do. Before she realized it, the muscles, so long unused in her cunt, began to tighten as her loins contracted, her heels gouging holes in the downy mattress. Her arms around Sy's neck held him in a vise of steel, welding her mouth to his.
Sy felt the pressure of her spongy cunt walls attempting to crush his cock. Her body convulsed repeatedly, leaping high off the bed, taking him with her.
Finally, with a sigh of total satisfaction, Ann opened her arms from around Sy's neck. Her lips released his, and her legs released the clutch they'd had on him. For Ann it was an experience without precedent. She'd had no idea doing forbidden things could be so delightful. A feeling of pleasant warmth crept over her, and she was prepared to release him and relax.
Not so Sy. He wouldn't stop. Continuing to ram his pole into the formerly virgin cunt despite the resistance he was meeting since she had come, his own lubricant served to keep her snatch-walls moist. His continuing fucking stopped her hole from continuing to tighten, and before she quite realized what was happening, the box was enlarging again. Her arousal, if anything, was greater than before.
This is heaven, Ann Massey thought. This was what it was like to be loved.
Her train of thought was interrupted by her tingling senses. Again his cock sent electric shock waves coursing through her body. Her hips responded to his thrusting javelin, leaping upward, circularly churning, pounding against his outer thighs, threatening with her nursing vulva to yank his prick out by the root.
Now she started taking an active part, reaching out and grabbing his asscheeks with her hands, using her nails to attempt him to thrust into her more deeply. Sy responded, plunging his shmuck against the neck of her womb.
Purposely he slowed his pace, pulling back even more, making each forward stroke seem longer. Ann kept a tight grip on his ass, her nails digging into the cheeks, reaching so deeply into the flesh she was drawing blood.
Ann's eyes were glazed, and her mouth half open. A trickle of saliva dribbled from the comer of her heavy lips to her neck.
A second ordeal was approaching. This time it crawled up inside her box slowly from her clitoris where friction from his body was teasing it.
Again the feeling was there. Once more she arched her body in a wild fury trying to tangle her cunt hairs with his cock hairs. Tensing every nerve and muscle in her body, she peaked. Twisting and jerking beneath him, Ann nearly forced his prong out of her this time, but Sy, no bumbling amateur to be squeezed from her creaming cunt like toothpaste from a tube, adjusted his gyrations, maintaining himself solidly inside the slick pussy.
As Ann reached the apex of her orgasm, Sy felt the bubbling fluid in his balls start to rise. Even as Ann thrashed beneath him in the throes of her crisis, he reached his own satisfaction, exploding into her with the violence of a cyclone. Great gouts of fluid flooded her pussy, filling her body with a secure warmth she had first come to know and like.
The fist-like grip of her quim only enhanced the pleasure as he fired one fresh charge after another into her hole, all direct hits on her cervic opening. Slowly his firepower diminished until he was temporarily out of ammunition. Silently, Ann cursed her dead father for forbidding her to know this pleasure. She was to have gone through the rest of her fife, fearing and hating this. She would never forgive the dead man.
Her pussy was temporarily satisfied, now no longer yanking on his shrinking schlong. She was content to quietly hold him, feeling the security she'd never before known, not having been with a man before. She was ready to fall asleep.
Sy pulled his cock from her cunt with a resounding pop and realized he smelled as badly as she. It was time to rectify that as well, since he knew he'd be fucking her quite a bit more. It was bad enough she was a beast to look at. He didn't want her smelling like a stagnant swamp. So without warning, he hoisted her bulky body from the bed and carried her into the bathroom, where only recently indoor plumbing had been installed.
"We're going to take a bath," he told her. And that was precisely what had taken place. They had gotten into the bathtub together, where Sy had made a point of washing out her fuckhole as well as soaping the rest of her.
The water finally drained out of the tub and she lay there, a gruesome-looking sea cow, but a clean one. Now his fingers moved into her cunt again, working tirelessly. She raised her thighs, letting him know she wanted the feel of his schlong in there again.
Hoisting his body above hers, he let his extended prick press against the recently used cuntlips from where he had just withdrawn his fingers. Her legs wrapped around his waist as his powerful pole began making its entrance, and she pulled him against her so her vulva could suck on the hairy bottom of his prick. Her thighs encased him in an unbreakable grip. She clasped her hands behind his neck for better leverage, rotating her box beneath his plunging pecker.
Her loins slipped lower, choking his hips in a grip of bone-crushing flesh, and for the third time in less than an hour, Ann felt a rapid climax coming on. She had taken to fucking like the proverbial duck to water. The thick, heavy outpouring juices of her lubrication helped to enhance the orgasm. It overwhelmed her as completely as the hot bathwater had done, earlier.
Her fingernails tore wide, red swaths along his back and her teeth sank into his shoulder. Again he felt her labia knot themselves around his cock, attempting to crush the life from it. Tighter the cunt squeezed, until it seemed it would amputate his cock. It was enough, and the pressure brought him to his own peak as his semi-automatic emptied another clip into her.
Ann Massey had spent the night at Enders Mansion. She spent the. whole week there, and by the time she'd left, Sy Enders was a partner in Massey Shipping.
In less than a month Sy found a way to force her completely out of the business. True, he'd had to give her a huge monetary settlement, and she would have been able to live on it very comfortably for more than fifty years. But Ann Massey, angry enough at being forced out of her company, was even angrier for another reason. Sy had stopped fucking her. Eventually the realization came to her that he would never fuck her again.
She had sent him a note. It was a short, simple note, and all it said was, WHEN THE TIME COMES THAT YOUR VERY EXISTENCE DEPENDS ON SOMETHING, RELY ON MY KEEPING YOU FROM IT.
She had committed suicide after that. And Sy had laughed off the note.
Now, as he stood before the marble headstone of her grave, he shuddered. She hadn't been able to stop him in life. But this was more important than life. This was eternity.
He tried moving from the spot, but couldn't. He was rooted. And as he stood there, the ground in front of him broke as, little by little, something was forcing its way up and out.