Chapter 7
The noontime summer sun beat heavily on Nancy Johnson's back. She lay in her back yard, stretched out on her stomach on a blanket, wearing her briefest bikini.
She was reading a' bestseller, but hardly concentrating on it. Instead, her attention was focused on the yard next door, her mind alert for any rustles which would mean that Harry was working outside again.
Harry and Sylvia had lived next door for the last three years, but the Johnsons barely knew them. They seemed to be a puritanical couple; they rarely went out, and though Barry and Nancy had invited them whenever they threw a straight party, they had come only once, and that time for less than an hour. However, Nancy was dying to have Harry get into her pants.
She had tried numerous times, but whenever it seemed that she might be successful at arousing his interest, his wife had appeared. She had never caught them in a compromising position, for Nancy had never managed to get that far. But Sylvia always seemed to know what was happening, and her dirty looks were enough to make Harry shy away.
But somehow Nancy knew that today would be different. She had heard that Sylvia was away visiting her mother, and it seemed very likely, for her car was gone and Nancy had not seen her for several days. And this morning Harry had been working out in the backyard, cutting the grass, weeding the gar-den, and trimming the hedges. Nancy had watched him working and put on her bathing suit to sun her-self, but just before she had gone outside Harry had stopped working and gone in for lunch, so she assumed. That was half an hour ago, so Nancy thought that he was due out again at any second.
She smiled when she thought of what Harry would be thinking. He would have to be interested; what red-blooded man wouldn't be? And Harry seemed to be very red-blooded.
He was about her age, early thirties, with black hair and a handsome, although not striking, face. She knew that he had a good build, for she had seen his muscles through his T-shirts while he worked outside. She could feel her cunt getting wet just thinking about him.
Maybe I'd better give him more of a show, she thought, and she-loosened the straps on her halter. She smiled when she looked down and saw her cleavage totally exposed. She pulled down the cup so that it barely covered the pink surrounding her nipples, and she shifted on the blanket so that she was almost directly facing the fence and hedge that separated the two backyards. The last thing he had been doing was trimming the hedge, and he hadn't finished, so Nancy was sure that he would start that again when he came out. And when he did he couldn't help but see her.
Nancy had to rest on her elbows while reading to make sure that her breasts were visible, but her arms quickly tired. She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes beneath the sunglasses.
There was a rustle from the hedge. Nancy opened one eye and glanced over. Not seeing him, with one hand she tugged at the halter to pull it further down. She grinned inwardly at the sight of a nipple almost totally exposed and . knew that Harry wouldn't be able to avoid seeing it.
The hedge rustled once more, and Nancy felt cunt juice trickle into the crack of her ass expectantly. But then, with a brilliant flash of blue, a bird flew from, the hedge and' Alighted in a tree in Nancy's back yard. It had been a false alarm.
Nancy sighed and decided to go all out in her efforts. Reaching behind her back, she undid the straps of the ,halter and pulled it free from her breasts. She lay back, her arms behind her head, and felt the sunlight and gentle breeze play over her tits, gently caressing the nipples into arousal. She smiled to herself and hoped that Harry would come out soon.
A few minutes later, when he still had not shown, she grew restless once more. This time she slipped the bikini briefs below her hips so that the briefs barely covered the top of her cunt. If she had not been shaved the pubic hair would have been visible, but now it was all glossy smooth skin.
Suddenly there came a sound from next door, and Nancy was instantly alert. The sound came again; it was the thwack! of a pair of hedge clippers. She knew that Harry was working now, and she could barely contain her excitement.
She glanced at the top of the hedge, eager to see Harry peering over at her. Her heart beat hard and the blood in her body pounded as she waited. More juice trickled from her cunt.
The sound of the working hedge clippers came closer, but still Harry was hidden from her sight. Another minute, she thought, and I'll have to call out his name.
Then she saw the top of his head, a patch of black hair, barely showing above the hedge directly across from her. With each thwack! of the clippers the head bobbed, and from the sound it seemed that he was working from bottom to top. Nancy quickly pinched her bare nipples to make sure they were hard and then pretended to read her book, while actually watching the bobbing head. She squirmed to make her briefs slide down even further.
Now the forehead was visible -- Nancy wanted to squeeze her thighs together to ease the ache in her cunt -- and then she saw the full face. It was not the face of Harry, but of his wife!
Nancy quickly dropped her eyes to her book as she saw the expression of surprise on Sylvia's face, and she continued to read as the hedge clippers clattered furiously down the length of the hedge.
The ache in her cunt subsided into a dull throb. One hand. crept down over her belly into the slit and she rubbed the moist crack for an instant, considering masturbating to ease the tension, but then she had a better idea. Gathering up the blanket, book and halter in her arms, she marched into the house to take a quick shower and get dressed.
It was a matter of only a few minutes before Nancy was once more outside, this time strolling down the front walk to her car, swinging her pocket-book gaily and looking forward to a lard cock to be found in one of the nearby bars. She wore a light blouse, a short skirt and shoes, with nothing underneath, and as she slid onto the car seat she hiked up her skirt to let the sun-warmed leatherette upholstery burn the bare skin of her ass and back of her thighs. It was a good feeling. Wiggling her ass, bringing her cunt into light contact with the seat, she drove off.
She had little luck in the first bar. There were but two customers, both nearly double her age, and though they looked at her with interest Nancy wanted nothing to do with them.
The bartender, was more likely, for he was younger, and he treated her gallantly enough, lighting her cigarette with a flourish and giving her extra liquor in her drink. But he didn't particularly excite her, at least not enough for her to wait for him to get off work, so after one drink she left and went to a second spot.
Here her luck seemed better. There were half a dozen men, and three of them seemed likely. She had decided that she wanted a young cock, and though none of the three men were quite young enough, they were not too old to be beyond consideration either.
She ordered a drink and observed the three surreptitiously. Two were talking together; they had both glanced at her when she walked in and then returned to their conversation. The one with his back to her had dark curly hair and glasses and was not unattractive, but from the way he moved she suspected that he had already drunk too much. The one facing her had sandy hair and a good build, an attractive face, and the movements of an athlete. He looked to be about her age, and Nancy thought that he was a good prospect.
The third man sat further down the bar, and while she could not get a good look at him he seemed powerful -- another good prospect.
The third man was the first to approach her. She watched him swagger down out of the corner of her eye and thought that, if nothing else, he certainly did not lack confidence. He slid in next to her, his florid beefy face breaking into a broad grin that showed pearly teeth, while his leg made positive purposeful contact with hers. Nancy liked his assurance and was ready to stand up and walk out with him without a word, but his opening line turned her off immediately.
"Well, sister," he said, breathing his words directly into her ear, "I guess we're both here for the same thing."
Nancy looked at him and smiled sweetly. "You want to get fucked, right?" she said softly.
His grin grew broader. "That's right," he said with a quick nod of his head. "You sure hit the nail on the head with that one."
"Fine. Then go fuck yourself."
The smile disappeared and he shook his head in disbelief. "What was that you said?"
"If you want to get fucked, then go fuck yourself."
His face turned red, giving Nancy a moment of fear for what he might do to her, but then she heard the laughter from the other patrons. The man heard them too; he downed his drink, gritted his teeth, and walked out without another word. Nancy smiled as she watched him go.
The other two men seemed about to approach her but apparently thought better of it, and by the time she had finished her drink she had made up her mind to leave and try somewhere else. But as she put her glass on the bar for the last time the answer to her horniness walked in the door.
He was as young and vigorous as she wanted, in his middle twenties, with longish hair, a drooping mustache and neatly trimmed beard. He wore an open shirt and blue jeans, with sandals on his feet, and he moved with ease and grace. He settled into a stool one down from her and mopped his lightly sweated brow with a handkerchief.
"A mug of draft," he said, "and make sure it's cold."
Nancy watched his eyes pass over her quickly and observed a flicker of interest-. But he turned back to the bar and paid for his beer, then lit a cigarette, leaving his pack, matches, and change in front of him. After the first long drag he took a deep swallow of beer.
Nancy quickly ordered another drink and pulled out one of her cigarettes. She pretended to fumble in her pocketbook for matches, ignoring them when her fingers touched a book, and then she snapped her pocketbook closed and laid it on the bar. "Excuse me," she said, "do you have a light?"
He turned to her, smiled briefly, and struck a match. She let her fingertips touch his wrist when he held it up for her. She smiled a thank you, he smiled in return, but then she frowned as he turned back to his beer without another word.
She tried to think of another way to get his attention but drew a momentary blank. Across the room one of the other men rose and put money in the jukebox. A few moments later a heavy beat of a popular song filled the room. Nancy had heard the song on the radio constantly during the past few weeks, and she tapped her fingers on the bar in time with the music.
She drank, then put the cigarette to her lips for another drag. But it had gone out and she got a mouthful of foul tasting air. She brightened.
"Excuse me again, but my cigarette's gone out. Careless of me."
"Not at all," he smiled. "I'm sure it's my fault. Here."
He held up another match and this time their eyes met.
"Thank you," she said, her words coming out mixed with smoke.
"You're welcome," he said, his eyes not leaving hers. He paused. "May I buy you another drink."
"But I have almost a full one."
"Another won't hurt. But I'll wait until you've finished that. What's your name?"
"Nancy. Yours?"
"George."
"What do you do?"
"Lie around a lot. Drink beer. Relax."
"You're kidding. Don't you earn money?"
"Of course. I'm earning money right now, just sitting here."
"How's that?"
"Hear that song? I wrote it, along with I don't know how many others. I don't bother keeping track of them."
Nancy took another drink. "Why, that's fascinating," she said. "Tell me, how do you go about writing a song?"
"I get an idea, something I see or do, or something I overhear someone say, and then I sit down with my guitar and work it out. Then I can sit back and relax until I get another idea. That's what I'm doing right now, relaxing. I just finished writing another one this morning."
"It can't be quite that easy," Nancy said.
"No, not quite. I always have to rework them after the first draft, and some of them I never do get quite the way I want them, so I put those away for a while and maybe work, on them again in a few months. But it is easier, that' you might think. For instance, I could probably write a song about you."
"You're kidding!"
"No. In fact, if you would care to come to my house I could do it right now. I'd write it here but I need my guitar."
Nancy thought that things were moving a bit too fast, but this was the opportunity she had been waiting for all day. She said, "I'll take you up on that. Where do you live?"
"A few blocks away. We can walk it in a couple of minutes. We could drive, but my girlfriend borrowed my car this week. Unless you have a car."
"Yes, I do, but we might just as well walk. But what's this about your girlfriend?"
"I live with her. But she drove to Los Angeles to visit her parents and won't be back until next week sometime." He paused and looked at her. "What's the matter? Upset because I have a girlfriend? I'll bet you have a husband."
Nancy flushed and lowered her eyes. "Yes, I do," she said.
"All the better. We're almost even. But let's not waste too much time. I can feel inspiration growing right this instant." He smiled and glanced down-ward. Following his gaze, she saw his cock bulging under his blue jeans.
"Inspiration, indeed," Nancy said. "I thought there was another name for that."
"There is," he said, "but not in public. Let's go."
Laughing, they stood up, leaving their drinks half-finished on the bar. George scooped up his money, leaving a generous tip, and they walked out arm in arm.
The sunlight was blinding after the darkness of the bar, and they paused outside while Nancy pulled her sunglasses from her pocketbook and put them on. George did likewise with a pair of aviator sung-lasses which he took from his shirt pocket. Then they linked arms once again and strolled down the block.
Nancy was conscious of the click of her shoes, the slap of George's sandals on the concrete, the gentle breeze that wafted through her hair; but most of all she was aware of the jiggle of her breasts under her blouse. She glanced sideways to see if George was looking at them, and she smiled when she saw that he was indeed. He seemed to catch her glance and her smile, for he grinned, slipped his arm around her waist, and whispered, "They're very impressive."
"Thank you," Nancy replied.
They arrived at George's house in five minutes. It was a small two-story stone house surrounded by shrubs, ivy, and shade trees. George paused halfway up the flagstone walk and said, "It looks very respectable, doesn't it? Wait until you see the inside."
He opened the front door, ushered her in, and closed the door quickly before she could see anything of the interior, for with the door closed she was enveloped in total darkness. Then he clicked a wall switch and tiny pinpoint lights on the ceiling blinked on, illuminating the entrance hall like star-light, barely enabling her to see George, though he was standing a mere foot away.
"If you'll look closely you'll see that they're arranged in constellations," he said. "That's Leo right above; that's my sign. Down there is Taurus, my girlfriend's. When's your birthday?"
"January, sixth Nancy said.
"Ah, you're a Capricorn, then." He clicked an-other switch and one set of lights began blinking on and off. "That's Capricorn there." One more switch clicked and now Leo began flashing. "Sets up good vibes," George explained.
They continued down the hallway, George holding her hand, and entered a room at the rear of the house. "This is the red room," George said. Nancy could see nothing for a moment, for the room was still dark. Thick black shades were pulled down over the windows, keeping out all light from outside with the exception of a faint glow from around the edges of the windows. George left her by the doorway and walked across the room to turn on the lights.
When they came on, three of them, all red, they filled the room with an eerie glow. Looking around her, Nancy could see that not only were the lights red, but everything else as well: paintings on the wall, the walls themselves, the furniture. But the most prominent feature of the room was the rug. Done in shades of red, it showed a couple fucking. Nancy stared at it for several minutes.
The couple portrayed were lying on their sides, their arms entwined. The male's mouth sucked on one breast, and the tip of his prick had just begun to penetrate the woman's cunt. As Nancy stared the rug seemed to come alive. The woman's chest seemed to be heaving, her open mouth seemed to be whimpering words of love, and the man's prick seemed to surge with power and building come.
"You like it?" George asked. ;
Nancy nodded. "It's fabulous. Where in the world did you buy it?"
George chuckled. "We didn't. We made it. Look closely. That guy is me, but before I grew my beard. And the woman is my girlfriend. All we did was to have a picture taken of ourselves like that and then projected it onto the backing. She did most of the hard work, like tracing it, and then spent hours and hours dying yarn to exactly the right shade, hooking it, and trimming it to shape. It took well over a year, but it was well worth it, don't you think?"
Nancy agreed, and she continued to examine the rug. She noted that not only were the colors and shadings accurate, but also that it was done in relief. The body contours were molded, making the woman's breast actually rounded, her nipple pointed, and her cunt open, ready to accept the prick. It was as if the couple had been sunk into the floor while making love and then compressed just enough avoid sticking out awkwardly while retaining the impression of all of their three dimensions.
George interrupted her thoughts. "We came here so that I could write a song about you," he said. "I will, if you like, or if you prefer we could smoke a little grass and relax."
Nancy knew what he meant by relaxing. She said, "I don't really know what I'd do with a song about me, but I do know what we could do with some grass."
"That's the spirit," George said. "I didn't really feel like writing a song this afternoon anyway. Here, sit down while I go get the dope."
He returned in a few minutes with a plastic bag containing about an ounce of grass in one hand, with rolling papers, a roach clip, and a bottle of wine in the other. Nancy, began to feel high just thinking about it.
After they had shared two joints Nancy suddenly giggled, lay back on the couch, and announced, "I'm fucking stoned." Her head seemed to alternately shrink and expand, the red light played tricks with her eyes, and, most of all, she felt unbelievably horny. The touch of George's fingers on her hand as he passed her the roach made her long for more intimate touches, and she could barely refrain from grabbing his crotch, unzipping his fly, and pulling out his cock to kiss and suck. But it'll be better if we wait, she thought, so she merely hiked up her skirt to expose more of her thighs, hoping that George would notice. She smiled when she saw that he had. He shifted on the couch and adjusted his pants, and she smiled once more when she saw the thick outline of his cock bulging under his jeans.
"Do you play poker?" George asked suddenly.
"Poker? Well, I have. But I thought we'd play other games." The roach died while she held it, and now she popped it into her mouth, washing it down with the wine which George had poured for her earlier.
"I meant strip poker," George explained.
Nancy laughed, almost hysterically. "I don't have very many chips," she said. "Just my blouse, skirt, and shoes."
"That's okay. I have only five: shirt, pants, under-wear, and my sandals. I'll take one sandal off so we start out even. But we can't play in here; the light makes it almost impossible to see the cards. Let's go in a different room."
He stood and held her hand to help her rise. With him still holding her hand, she followed him into the room across the hall.
While walking Nancy realized just how stoned she was, for she felt as if she were swimming in the air, with her feet above the floor and her head floating somewhere just below the ceiling. But it's a good feeling, she thought, and when we start to fuck it'll be fabulous.
When George clicked on the black light on the ceiling of the new room the walls came alive with orange and red glowing pictures of nude women, gigantic breasts, and huge cocks. "This is the fuck room," George said. "Like it?"
Nancy stared at the walls, and then at the glowing waterbed in the center of the room. "I like it a lot," she said. "What are we waiting for?"
"We were going to play poker, remember? Here sit on the bed and we'll start."
George kicked off one sandal and began to shuffle. "We'll play seven card stud, okay? Nothing wild, and the loser takes off one item. That sound good?"
"Sounds fine with me," Nancy said.
"And one more thing. How about if the loser, the final loser, I mean, the one that ends up with no clothes left, has to do whatever the winner wants? Is that okay too?"
"Sounds exciting," Nancy said.
"Good. Well, here goes."
He dealt the first hand. Nancy received two pairs, and she thought that she had a chance to win that one, for George had nothing showing. But he flipped over the three deuces he had in the hole.
"There's one down," Nancy said, kicking off a shoe.
Nancy dealt the" next hand and won it with a low straight, and then George won the next two. Nancy took her time unbuttoning her blouse when she lost it, and she turned away demurely as she slipped it off her shoulders. She turned back to face George as slowly as she could.
George stared at her breasts for a long time and Nancy felt her nipples harden under his gaze. "Well, do you like them?" she said finally.
"Yes, very much. You don't mind if I touch them, do you?"
"Not in the least. But not too much. We still have a game to play."
"I just wanted to get the feel of them." He reached out with one hand and touched it lightly to one tit. He placed his four fingers and thumb around it, squeezed gently, and then withdrew slowly, stroking her tit all the way down to the nipple. He caught it between two fingers and held it for a moment before releasing it.
"Hurry up and deal," Nancy said.
George wasted no time, but shuffled and dealt hurriedly. He lost that hand and took off his shirt while Nancy shuffled for the next deal. George lost that hand also.
He stood before her as he undid his blue jeans and let them drop to his ankles. His well-filled briefs were inches away from Nancy's face as he stood there and she could not help reaching out to touch the swelling mound his erect cock made. With one finger she stroked it from his balls up to the tip and watched it grow stiffer and larger.
George said, "No more of that. We have one hand left to play to see who the winner will be."
"I think we'll both be winners," Nancy said.
She was dealt the eight of spades and the king of hearts as the first two hole cards, and the four of clubs as the first one showing. George had the three of diamonds. Next for Nancy was the queen of diamonds, with the seven of clubs for George, followed by the ace and then jack of diamonds for her, and the king of clubs and queen of hearts for him. Nancy looked at her cards: ace, king, queen, jack, eight and four. She hoped for a ten on the last card, or at least something that matched.
George paused in dealing. "Nice looking little straight flush you're building there," he said. "If you have it looks like you'll win, and I'll have to do any-thing you want me to."
"Hurry up and deal," Nancy said.
The last card was face down, and Nancy slipped it towards herself across the bed without looking at it. Then she picked up one corner and looked. It was merely the two of hearts.
George flipped over his cards. "I just have two pair -- kings and sevens," he said, showing the king of spades and seven of hearts from the hole. "Did you get your straight flush?"
"No," Nancy said slowly. "I didn't get anything." She tossed her cards down on the bed and stood up. "Looks like I lost, right?"
"Yep, sure looks that way."
"What do you want me to do?"
"First of all I want you to take off that skirt. Then you can kneel in front of me and take off my briefs, and after that you can suck me off. Okay?"
"Yes," said Nancy.
Taking a deep breath, Nancy unsnapped the skirt and unzipped it. She held it up for a moment until she was ready, and, then let it fall. She watched George's face to see his reaction to her shaved pubic mound.
His eyes widened when he saw it. Nancy watched him gaze at her mound and then slowly raise his eyes up past her breasts to her face.
"It's striking," he said. "I'd touch it, but right now you have other things to do. Get busy."
"Yes, master," Nancy said, the word master slip-ping out before she had a chance to stop it. But if. George noticed he made no sign, but merely rose to his feet in front of her.
Nancy fell to her knees before him. The bulge of his cock was on a level with her face and only inches away. She stared at it as she raised her arms and hooked her fingers under the elastic of his briefs. She tugged them down over his hips, smiling when the front got caught on his rigid prick. She freed it, and continued to pull the briefs down, but her eyes were fixed only on his long hard cock that stood out straight from a mat of dark curling hair.
"Suck it," George said.
"Yes, master," said Nancy.
With one hand she held his balls loosely, feeling them move and shift inside the hairy sac. She wet her lips with her tongue and pressed them against the knob of his cock in a long wet kiss. Darting out her tongue, she moistened the head of his cock quickly, and, leaning forward and parting her lips, she let his prick penetrate her mouth.
Her eyes were closed, but she could feel him moving backward slowly. He eased down and sat on the bed, with Nancy following, never letting go her hold on his prick. He rested a hand on either side of her head, guiding her, forcing her head to move up and down, right and left, as he wished.
She continued in this manner for several minutes, and could feel him growing more and more excited. His cock was becoming larger; it filled her mouth with its bulk; and she knew that he would come soon.
Suddenly his hands lifted her head away from his cock. "Stop," he ordered.
Nancy looked up, amazed. "I thought you wanted me to suck you off?"
He smiled. "I do. But I was about to come, and I don't want it to be over yet. Let's smoke another joint and relax for a few minutes."
Nancy agreed and sat on the bed. George left the room and returned in a few minutes with the grass. Quickly and expertly he rolled another joint and they they lay full length on the bed and smoked it.
Nancy enjoyed the rippling of the bed as it responded to their slightest movements, and for a few minutes she became lost in the rippling rhythm as in a dream. But then she gradually became aware of George's hand stroking her thigh from knee to hip in long sweeps, fluttering across her belly now and then, followed by a long stroke down the other leg. She responded by resting her hand on his thigh, just below his crotch, and with her thumb just touching his cock she rubbed it gently. She could feel it twitch every time she touched a more sensitive spot on its surface.
George's hand stopped stroking her thigh now and instead began a gentle massage of her mound, just above the cleft of her cunt. He moved his fingers in tiny circles that dipped down almost, but not quite, into the slit. Nancy held her breath each time his fingers approached; but she let it out with a rush each time his fingers moved away. She tried lifting her body to bring her cunt into contact, but to no avail.
"Don't you like my cunt? Don't you want to touch it?" she asked softly.
"Yes, I do like your cunt, and yes, I would like to touch it. But you still have to suck me off. After that we'll see about your pretty little cunt. For now, relax a few more minutes."
"Relax! I don't think I can."
"Try hard," he said.
Nancy remained lying on her back, feeling his fingers approach her cunt again and again without actually making contact. George was smoking the last of the joint, and out of the corner of her eye Nancy saw him lay the roach in the ashtray. His fingers moved to her cunt once more and Nancy gritted her teeth, expecting them to stop before reaching it. But to her surprise they continued downward. They gently touched the outer portions of the lips of her cunt, separated them, and dipped in deep. Nancy gasped as she felt his fingers slide in all the way to his knuckles, and she squirmed and squeezed the muscles inside to hold them fast. But, as suddenly as they had penetrated, the fingers left her. Nancy let out her pent up breath in a rush.
"It's time to suck me again," George said. "On your knees,-as you were before."
Nancy obeyed, squeezing her thighs together as she slid to the floor to try to extract the last little-bit of pleasure his fingers had given her. But all she felt was the slipperiness of her fluid which had oozed out and now covered the inside of her thighs.
"Take one of my balls into your mouth," George said, and Nancy did as she was told, pressing her lips against one ball, opening her mouth wide, and drawing it in by suction. She heard George groan as she tongued it inside her mouth.
"Now work up to the top of my prick," he said, and Nancy let the ball slide out. Holding his cock in one hand, she licked and kissed around the bottom of the shaft and slowly moved upwards. She felt the veins under the smooth skin, felt them rippling across her tongue as she licked, and she wished that somehow she could actually see the cock inside her mouth as she sucked and licked at it. Once at the top she opened her mouth wide, put the cock inside, and fastened her lips and mouth around it.
She heard George's breathing coming heavier and faster as she sucked, and felt him leaning back on the bed. She thought she heard the sound of a drawer opening, but her face was buried in his pubic hairs and she did not dare stop sucking to look and see what it was. But she found out a moment later.
"Stop sucking and kneel up straight," George said, and Nancy let his wet prick slide out of her mouth. She saw that he held in one hand a length of clothesline, and in the other a battery-powered penis-shaped vibrator.
"What's that for?" she asked, but she knew the answer.
"It's to help you get your rocks off, naturally," he said. He smiled, "You see, I'm feeling lazy right now, or I'd eat you out. But I hate to see a woman working away like you're doing without getting something to show for it. So with this, I can make-you come with just a few twitches of my finger."
Nancy was somewhat mystified as to how he would accomplish it, but he quickly explained. "You'll notice that this vibrator has a little metal loop at the bottom. All I do is pass the clothesline through it, tie one end of the rope around your waist, passing it behind through your legs, and holding on to the other end. I put the vibrator in your cunt, and to make it sink in I just pull up on the clothesline. To make it move out all you have to do is contract the muscles inside your cunt. You can do that, can't you?"
"Yes," Nancy said.
"Very good. Then we're all set."
He quickly rigged up the clothesline and adjusted the vibrator just within the lips of her cunt. He made her start sucking on his cock once more and then flicked the switch to start the plastic penis vibrating. As Nancy pulled his cock deeper and deeper into her mouth she felt the gentle waves of vibration diffusing throughout her groin. It felt like a thin film of sensation; for the vibrator had not yet sunk in deep, but it aroused her and made her cunt long to be filled.
Her wish was granted in an instant. George tugged on the rope, and the vibrator jammed upward into her well-lubricated hole. Now she could feel the vibrations along the entire length of her cunt, and the feeling was spreading throughout her belly: She remembered what George had said and contracted her muscles, forcing out the vibrator and making the sensations more intense. George responded by shoving it in once again, and they set up a steady rhythm, the vibrator moving up and down, entering and withdrawing from Nancy's cunt, making giant waves that coursed from her cunt downward through her legs and upward through her chest, all the way to her throat, where it met George's cock. Nancy felt her whole body enveloped in a warm glow of sex.
In her mind Nancy pictured the artificial prick sliding wetly in and out of her cunt, parting the pink flesh as it moved upward until the tip reached the opening of her womb. She could also imagine his prick, hard, strong, and becoming a deep purple as it filled with blood. She could feel the pressure building in her cunt and knew that she was approaching orgasm, so she redoubled her efforts on George's cock, for she wanted her climax to be spiced by the feel of his come exploding into her throat.
Her tension mounted. George suddenly jerked the rope, driving the vibrator in as deep as possible, and he held it there while Nancy squeezed and pressed her cunt muscles against it, receiving in return a sharpened sense of pleasure from the vibrations. She felt as if a balloon were being inflated inside her, growing larger and larger until she knew her body could contain it no longer. At that instant it burst and sent fleeting darts of pain and pleasure through-out her body, tingling even to her fingertips. From somewhere far away she heard George gasp, and then his come pounded into her mouth, filling it, and she swallowed it all down.
She felt the vibrator slide out of her cunt and heard it clatter onto the floor. Her body felt limp and weak, and in her mouth George's prick was slowly shrinking. She let it slip out of her mouth, gave it a final suck with her lips and a lick with her tongue, and then let her head rest on George's hairy thigh. She told herself that the afternoon had been a success.