Chapter 8
Nancy's car was not in the garage when Barry Johnson arrived home. He checked his watch to make sure he wasn't early, then shrugged his shoulders. She's , probably out getting laid, he thought, but he wished that she were there. "I feel like getting laid thyself," he said to the empty kitchen.
Nancy breezed in through the front door an hour later. Barry set down his newspaper. "Where've you been?" he inquired.
"Out fucking," she replied, setting down her pocketbook and unbuttoning her blouse. She paused at the third button and looked at him. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Of course not," Barry said. He reached for the newspaper again, reconsidered, and instead unzipped his pants. He pulled out his cock and waved it at her. "You don't feel like fucking a little more, do you?" he asked.
He saw Nancy gaze at his prick and felt it twitch as it began to harden. But then her eyes dropped and she continued to unbutton the blouse.
"Honestly, I'm about fucked out," Nancy said. "You wouldn't believe what we were doing this afternoon. In fact, I'm so tired I'm going to just take a shower and go to bed." She removed the blouse and unsnapped the skirt, letting it fall to her ankles. She stepped out of it, picked it up, and carried both articles of clothing over her arm as she walked to the stairs. She stopped with one foot on the first step and turned around. "We can fuck tomorrow night, if you like, but don't forget: the party is the day after. We want to save ourselves for that."
She continued up the stairs while Barry watched the twin globes of her ass sway and jiggle. When she was out of sight he sighed, then slipped his cock back into his pants. He lit a cigarette.
"But damn it," he said to himself. "What good's a wife if she won't fuck when you need her? I can't complain, though. A lot of women hardly ever let their husbands fuck them, and then they get pissed when the guy goes out to get some action on his own. At least I know that when I come home with lipstick on my collar Nancy will only smile and ask if she was a good lay. Can't beat a woman like that. And she does fuck me most of the time when I want it."
Barry briefly thought about telephoning one of his steady girlfriends, but then decided against it. They're probably all fucking this instant, he thought. I should've called one this afternoon.
He picked up the newspaper once more, trying to ignore the way his dick felt when loaded and primed.
Several hours later he mounted the stairs slowly. He was still horny, and instead of going directly to his room he stopped by Nancy's. He rapped his knuckles lightly on the door, opened it softly, and looked inside.
In the light from the hallway he could see Nancy lying on her back in bed, covered only by a sheet. One hand held the sheet up over her breasts, but he could see the nipples outlined through the fabric. He watched them rise and fall with her breathing. Several wisps of hair had strayed over her face. As he stood watching silently she brushed the hair away in her sleep, then with an audible sigh she rolled onto her side and faced away from him. Barry closed the door quietly and shuffled down the hall to his own room.
He undressed quickly, then turned off the light and opened the blinds so that the morning sun would help him wake up. He glanced through the window at the 'house next door. Harry and Sylvia lived there; he had always wanted to fuck Sylvia but had never managed to pull it off, and he knew that Nancy in turn had always wanted to fuck Harry. He wondered absent-mindedly whether she had ever succeeded. But probably not. Sylvia and Harry always watched each other jealously, and were in fact almost puritanical. Hell, they probably don't even fuck each other, he thought.
After opening the window a crack to let in fresh air Barry turned away and settled heavily into bed.
He tossed about for several minutes and finally lighted a cigarette. He blew smoke rings and thought back to several days before when he had last screwed Shelley, the most steady of his girlfriends. He had known her for eight years and had fucked her at least once every single week during that time. He always felt that there was something missing with her, but she was a great fuck, and her blowjobs were the finest he had ever had. His cock stiffened as he thought of her blond hair flowing over his thighs while her mouth engulfed his cock. He could picture her removing one hand from his cock to brush her hair back behind her ear to give him a better view, and he could see her smile afterwards when she proudly announced that she had gotten every single drop. Then he had eaten her cunt, and finally, to wrap up the evening, they had fucked in the shower, soapy slick with her ass wetly slapping the shower wall with each stroke. He could almost hear her moaning in his ear as he thought about it.
Suddenly, Barry realized that he did hear moaning. It wasn't Nancy; he knew exactly the way she sounded. He thought for a moment that it might be just the wind blowing around the corner of the house. But then he saw the light from Harry and Sylvia's house, and he knew that the sound must be coming from there. He slid out of bed and went to the window.
Looking through the blinds he could see right into their bedroom. The window was half open, and al-though there was a screen it hid nothing.
He could see Harry and Sylvia stretched out on the bed, nude, making love. Harry lay on his side, his right hand caressing her breast, his lips nuzzling her neck. Sylvia's hand was gently stroking his prick.
Barry could hear Sylvia moan gently each time Harry squeezed her breast. Her eyes were closed, and each time she moaned her lips parted slightly. Now she turned her head to the side, so that if her eyes had been open she would have been looking directly through the window at Barry.
Her husband enveloped her ear with his mouth, she moaned again, louder now, and both hands began to fondle his prick.
Barry, watching intently, felt his own prick begin to harden, and without realizing it he grasped it with both hands, just as Sylvia was doing to Harry.
The couple continued to caress each other for a few minutes in the same manner, and then Harry kissed her lower her neck, her shoulders, pausing to kiss and suck on her nipples, then lower once again, down over her belly. His fingers fluttered over her thighs, opening them, and while his lips touched the top of her triangle of dark curly -hair his fir sank into the moist crevice, all the way in at ice-then withdrawing, ,moistening the entire cunt, and sinking in once more. His thumb spread the welling wetness over and around her clit, and soon his lips joined his thumb.
Sylvia's mouth was open and her breasts heaved. Her hands reached out for her husband, touched his chest and slid down, drawing his body around to her until his cock brushed her lips. She kissed it several times; then, after flicking out her tongue to wet her lips, she sucked his cock inside.
As Barry watched the cock sink in he felt his come surging up from his balls. He lost control and let it spurt out over the window, the blinds, and the wall. It glistened in the pale yellow light from the window as it dripped to the floor.
Sighing, Barry turned away from the sight of the two lovers and crawled back into bed. He wiped his hand on the sheet and lay on his stomach, burying his head under the pillow to shut out the moans and cries from next door.
It was seven o'clock Friday night. The five couples rode in two cars to Shore Drive. Barry Johnson drove one car; on the seat beside him was Sharon Lawrence. As they drove Barry stroked the inside of her thigh, pushing her skirt up almost to her cunt. Sharon's husband Peter was also sitting in front, and in back were Carol North, Ed Simmons and Barry's wife Nancy. Fred North drove the second car. Looking in the rear-view mirror Barry could see Fred with Steve White in the right-hand front seat, while Mindy White and Dale Simmons sat in the rear.
They arrived outside the gates of the Shore Drive estate at exactly seven-fifteen. A uniformed guard was on duty. He stopped them and walked to the car window bearing a clipboard. Barry handed him the ten numbered slips of paper which the guard examined for a moment before checking off the numbers on the clipboard.
"You're right on time, sir," the guard said. He reached down to what looked like a walkie-talkie. strapped to his belt and pushed a button. The iron gates swung open. "Go right through and bear right," he said.
The two cars passed through the gates, which closed behind them with a metallic clang.
Sharon giggled nervously. "I feel like we're entering a prison," she said.
Barry squeezed her thigh reassuringly, then moved his hand up to press her cunt. He was surprised to feel the flesh smooth and slick; she had shaved her pussy also. But he rubbed it for a moment while glancing at Peter, who was staring morosely out the side window.
Peter said, still staring away, "It's a prison -- a prison of pleasure." He looked at Barry. "It's true that we can't leave until Sunday?" he asked.
Barry pulled his hand away from Sharon's crotch after scratching her once lightly with his fingernails, smiling when she squirmed. "Yes, it's true," Barry said finally. "We're here for the duration."
"There are worse places to be, I suppose," Peter sighed. "Plenty of booze, plenty of broads -- what more could a man want out of life, I ask you?"
It was Barry's turn to sigh. Then he opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, the words unspoken. A few seconds later he repeated Peter's words: "What. more could a man want out of life?"
By seven-thirty the five couples were walking up the grassy slope toward the white mansion. The setting August sun sent shadows from the trees slanting across the lawn, and the light breeze stirred the shadows in time to the music that drifted from in-side the house.
They had left their clothes and all possessions in numbered bags in an outbuilding staffed by more uniformed guards. They had also been given black masks which covered the eyes only, making recognition difficult but still allowing full vision. Barry noted that the masks fitted comfortably and was thankful for that, because they would have to wear them the entire weekend. And it was better that way, Barry thought. He and the rest of his group would recognize each other, of course, having seen each other nude so often and knowing each other so well, but there would be no worry that a casual en-counter during the weekend would turn into an unwanted affair. Only first names were to be given, and everything done would be for fun, with no strings or commitments attached.
"Say, Barry," Ed said when the group was half-way to the house, "did you find out anything more about what's going to be happening?"
"I think I've told you about everything. During the day everyone will be out on the beach or in the pavilion behind the house, and at night things will be happening inside. I think the first floor is sup-posed to be for drinking and dancing and public orgies, the second floor is for private orgies, and the third floor is for couples only. And then the basement is the Perversion Room -- I was told there'll be young boys, girls, animals, you name it. Not to mention an authentic torture chamber."
"You didn't tell us about the basement before," Carol said.
Fred said, "Yes, he did. You were probably playing with yourself when he told us before."
Carol stuck out her tongue. "Well, I sure as hell wasn't playing with you. You don't have anything to play with."
"You don't call this something?" Fred asked, waving his cock and making it come nearly erect.
"I do," said Sharon, reaching out to grab it.
"Oh, get fucked, all of you," Carol said. "I'm heading for the basement." She ran ahead to the house, her ass jiggling.
"Let's all run," Sharon shouted, and she took off, pulling Fred along by the prick. With more shouts and yells the others ran too, leaving Barry behind. He walked slowly, and by the time he reached the house the others had long since disappeared inside.
A distinguished butler clothed in black opened the door for him and stood -aside to let him enter. Barry nodded to the butler and strode through the door. He paused for a moment to adjust to the noise of over a hundred people chattering and screaming, nearly drowning out the music of the two bands which played at either end of the house.
The first floor seemed to consist largely of two rooms, each huge, with a high ceilinged hallway between the two. A spiral staircase was at the rear of the house. Already groups of nude men and women were staggering upstairs.
"And the party's just beginning," Barry said to himself. "I wonder what it'll be like when the rest of the people arrive. Shit, this is going to be a madhouse."
He glanced around to see if he could locate any of his friends, but they seemed to have been swallowed up in the crowd. Then, judging that the room to the right was slightly more subdued, he entered there.
Almost immediately a blonde with huge breasts crashed into him, nearly knocking him to the floor. Her drink, icy cold, spilled over his chest and stomach, making him shiver for an instant.
He started to say, "Excuse me," but the woman planted her lips over his before he had a chance. She kissed him deeply for several minutes while her belly ground against his cock, making it erect, and then she fell to her knees.
"I think I shpilled my drink on your fucking prick," she said drunkenly. "Allow me to clean it up. Here, hold thish." She handed him her drink, and Barry sipped at it while she sucked him off. He came quickly, pumping his come deep into her throat, and when he had finished she continued to try to get more. Barry finally removed his cock from her mouth by stepping backwards, but the woman made a last grab for him. Missing, she fell face down on the floor.
Barry looked down at her for a moment, then placed the drink by her head and stepped over her body. "Thanksh," he heard her call out as he walked away, "that was a lot better than thish scotch."
What the hell am I doing here? Barry thought as he walked to the bar. All these drunks, all these fucked up people -- shit, right now I'd trade it all for a little peace and quiet.
"Ginger ale," he told the red-jacketed bartender after he finally managed to maneuver across the room, and he ignored the bartender's slightly raised eyebrow. "Yes, ginger ale," he repeated, finding that he couldn't ignore the raised eyebrow after all. The bartender handed him the glass hurriedly.
Barry headed for a vacant corner where he could survey the room, but he had no sooner leaned back against the wall than a short bright-eyed girl with curly hair and a plump rounded ass was upon him, her legs around his hips, her big-nippled breasts mashed against his chest, her arms around his neck, and her tongue inside his mouth. She rubbed her wet cunt against his cock until it was hard, and then she shifted until it had penetrated deep inside her pussy. Barry fucked her with as little effort as possible, thrusting once for every four times her hips pounded. When she came she bit his shoulder, and he took a sip of ginger ale while he filled her cunt with come.
By midnight Barry wished that he could wear a sign saying I'm Fucked Out -- Let Me Rest. He thought back over all the women he had fucked, eaten, or been sucked by in the last few hours: the. first drunken one; the plump-assed little one in the corner; a little blonde, surely no more than eighteen, who had had' a talented mouth and a sweet pussy, but who had the mind of a ten-year-old; another cute little blonde, who had said that she didn't really like sex but got horny every time she snorted coke, which she obviously had; a tall older woman with an angular body, who barely responded to his fucking; plus several others who had made so little impression on him that he could remember next to nothing about them. He wondered how many he would fuck by the time the weekend was over.
Barry was wandering Through the first-floor rooms, a glass of warm ginger ale in his hand. He carried a lit cigarette between the fingers of his other hand, and each time he took a drag he stared at the nicotine stains.
The bands had stopped playing half an hour before, so the party, now sustained by the mansion's stereo system, was more subdued. Groups of men and women in various stages of undress were scattered throughout the downstairs, but it -seemed that most people had left for the basement or upstairs.
He saw Peter relaxing on a couch, drink in hand, while a blonde rested her head. in his lap, toying with his prick. As Barry strolled by he heard the blonde' say, "Well; are you going to get it up or aren't you?" Barry went by without waiting to hear Peter's reply.
A group of five women were eating each other in a corner. Barry thought that he could identify Dale and Mindy among them, but he wasn't sure. The scene would ordinarily have interested him, and after watching it for only a few seconds his cock would normally have begun to grow stiff. But now the sight only bored him, so Barry walked on.
He paused by the basement door. Moans, shrieks of pleasure, what sounded like the cracking of leather on a bare ass, and the sensuous beat of bongo drums floated up from the darkness at the foot of the stairs. Barry hesitated, then walked down.
At the bottom he turned and entered a large narrow room illuminated by red lights. A bar was in one corner, tended by a voluptuous brunette clad in a red vest which left her breasts exposed. Half a dozen stools lined the bar; Barry sank into one with a sigh.
The barmaid smiled at him and walked over. She wore red panties pulled tight through the crotch, showing the crack of her cunt, and her breasts jiggled enticingly as she walked. Barry managed a faint smile in response to hers.
"What'll it be?" she asked with a flutter of her eyelashes. Then she said quickly, "Anything but me. I'm not available until two o'clock." She smiled once more and winked.
"That's okay," he said, and then, after catching a flash of resentment in her eyes, he went on: "I'm resting for a couple of hours. How about a ginger ale?"
She smiled and scooped ice into a glass. "You're smart," she said as she filled the glass. "Most of these guys are already so plastered they won't be able to get hard again for a week. I was worried that no one would be left by two, and I'd have to go around looking for a dildo. Say, would you watch the bar a minute? I have to go to the john."
Barry nodded his head as he accepted the glass from her hand. Her fingers were cool and felt good as he touched them lightly with his.
He watched her walk off, then turned around and, leaning his back against the bar, looked around the room. There was almost nothing to see. The red lights left the corners shadowed; in one corner Barry thought he could see a couple fucking, but it was too dark to tell for sure.
Doors lined one wall and it was from behind them that the sounds he had heard at the top of the stairs originated. He briefly wondered what was going on behind those doors, and then decided that he wasn't interested. He made up his mind to leave as soon as the barmaid returned. He swiveled back around and rested his elbows on the bar while he sipped the ginger ale.
A few moments later he heard the bongo beat grow louder for an instant before returning to its previous muffled volume, and he knew that a door behind him had been opened and closed. He heard soft footsteps but still did not turn around, and looked the other way as he heard a barstool scraping the floor.
"Is anyone tending the bar?" It was a woman's voice, soft, almost a whisper, and without a single note of harshness. Barry turned toward her.
She sat facing him, one elbow on the bar, the other on the back of the stool, her legs crossed demurely. Her brown hair flowed over her small proud breasts, almost hiding them, but one pert nipple poked through, pointing at him. Her brown eyes beneath the black mask looked at him with polite friendliness, and her lips formed a small quizzical smile.
"She'll be back in a minute," he said. He tried to think of something more to say but couldn't, and so remained silent.
"You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette, would you?" she asked.
Barry laughed as he looked down at his naked body, then glanced up at her once more. "No, I seem to be out of pockets. But there should be some around here somewhere." He looked up and down the bar. "There we are, down at the end. I'll get you one."
He rose and for the first time felt embarrassed by his total nakedness. He kept his prick hidden from her view as much as possible as he walked to the end of the bar and pulled two cigarettes out of the wood-en box. He picked up a book of matches from the bar on the way back.
Her knee brushed his cock as he stood in front of her, lighting her cigarette, and he felt the pleasureful tingling throughout his groin. Her eyes met his as she thanked him. She blew a stream of smoke between her slightly parted lips and Barry felt the urge to kiss them, to let his tongue slide between, them while his fingertips caressed her body. He could almost feel the fluid softness of her cunt enveloping his cock, now stiff and rigid, standing out from his body. He forced himself to return to his seat, trying to ignore his insistent prick and hoping that she wouldn't be offended by it.
"What's going on in there?" Barry asked, motioning toward the doors with a wave of his hand. He hoped that changing the subject would make his cock relax.
"There's a woman giving a dog a blowjob," she said with obvious distaste. "It didn't turn me on very much."
"Did she like it?"
"I imagine so. She acted like she did. So did the dog and everyone watching. Everyone but me. That's why I left."
There was a moment of silence. Each took a drag of cigarette s poke and blew it out. "What's your name?" Barry asked suddenly.
"Ellen," she said. "And yours?"
"Barry," he said, and fell silent once more.
His cock had not decreased in size, as much as he wanted it to, but-Ellen gave no sign of having noticed it. She continued to smoke her cigarette.
She shook her head, throwing her hair back over her shoulders and leaving her breasts naked. Barry felt a surge of delight when he noticed that her nipples were hard and pointed. He watched her unconsciously brush the palm of her hand over her right breast and he wished that he could do that. But he was at a loss for words, and he felt that she wouldn't approve of him reaching out for her and grabbing her without her consent.
"She doesn't seem to be coming back," Ellen said after a few more minutes of waiting. "I'm going up-stairs."
"May I come with you?" Barry asked, the words spurting out without thinking.
Ellen smiled gently. "Yes, of course. Come."
As they walked upstairs side by side Barry felt her hand slide into his. He squeezed it and was rewarded by an answering pressure, and then her fingers began to play over the back of his hand while her thumb rubbed back and forth over his palm. His cock stiffened even more with the thought of her doing it to him there.
"Where would you like to go?" she asked when they were on the first floor.
Barry felt himself growing bolder. "Somewhere where we can be alone. Very alone." He whispered the words into her ear, feeling wisps of hair brushing his lips.
Ellen turned to face him and stood inches away. His cock was at the level of her stomach, almost, but not . quite, touching her. Her nipples were scant inches from his chest and he knew that they would feel very good mashed against him.
She cocked her head to one side and rested one cool hand on his shoulder. "I hear that the rooms on the third floor are private," she said.
"Yes," Barry replied.
"Come."
Barry walked behind as they mounted the spiral staircase. Her hips swayed almost imperceptibly with each step, enticing him, and between her legs he could see the feathery ends of her brown pubic hairs. The globes of her ass were white where a bathing suit had covered them, but the rest of her skin was tanned a deep brown. Tiny downy hairs glistened at the base of her spine. Barry moistened his lips and reached forward to kiss her there. He felt her shudder.
On the third floor they walked until they found a vacant room. A candle burned on a night table which stood beside a huge double bed, the only furnishings in the room. As they stepped inside Ellen pushed the door shut and, with the same motion, swept her arms around him. They kissed. Barry was conscious only of her lips and tongue touching his, her breasts against his chest, and her warm belly pressing against his hard cock.
Her lips and tongue were nimble and active, and incredibly soft. They fluttered inside his mouth, around his lips, and over his face. Then she moved downward.
With little sucking kisses she smothered his neck and moved lower through the hair on his chest. Barry's breath came, quickly and turned to rapid panting as her lies touched his hairy belly and her hands cupped his -balls. Then his cock was inside her mouth and she was sucking, alternating swirls of her tongue with gentle suction, making it almost impossible for him to keep from coming.
"Stop." Barry forced himself to say it lest he come without satisfying her also. He gently pushed her head away. She rose from her knees and kissed him once more on the lips.
"Lie down," Barry said. "I want to make love to you."
"How about with me?" she asked as she sat on the side of the bed and then lay back.
"That'll be fine too," Barry said.
He lay on his side beside her and took her into his arms, mustering all his knowledge of pleasing a woman. While they kissed he ran his fingers through her hair, circling her ears with his fingertips, gently caressing the nape of her neck where the hair was softest, and touching lightly the smooth skin on her back. Her fingers did the same to him.
He kissed her body for what seemed like hours. Once he was sure he had kissed every square inch of her head he moved lower, pausing at her breasts to suck on the nipples and flick at them with his tongue, then down to her belly, where he licked at her navel for a moment. He rested his lips in the midst of her cunt hair, letting warm breath play over her, but he bypassed her cunt for the time being.
Each thigh received its share of attention, and likewise each calf. She squirmed and giggled as he started to touch the soles of her feet. He pushed her over onto her stomach and moved upwards: the back of her legs, with special care to the hollows behind her knees; her rounded ass, where he let his tongue dip into the crack; and over her back, not neglecting to kiss and lick her smooth-shaven armpits. He finished by wriggling his tongue up her spine from where it began amid the downy hairs up to the base of her neck. She shivered as his tongue passed between her shoulder blades.
"Now it's your turn," she whispered as she rolled over. Barry obediently lay on his back, his arms stretched out, his legs spread slightly. He marvelled at the silky softness of her skillful mouth as she wetly kissed his body, and he tried without success to recall when a woman had aroused him as much as Ellen was doing. He wished he had met her years before.
When she reached his feet and rolled him over, her hand slid underneath and gently grasped his balls. She tugged at them lightly while she continued her kissing, making him squirm with pleasure.
The circuit complete, they lay on their sides facing each other. Ellen's hand rested on Barry's prick, while his hand was on her hip. As if magnetized, they drew closer.
"I'm all wet," Ellen murmured, and she rubbed the head of Barry's prick against the outer lips of her cunt to prove it. He felt her cunt warm, swollen and soaking.
Raising her leg, she let his cock penetrate her cunt. It slid in easily, pushing aside the soft folds of flesh as it entered, and when the cunt had accepted the full length of the cock Barry and Ellen remained still, touching each other with only the joined cunt and cock. Barry/deft Ellen tighten the muscles inside her, squeezing his prick with her warm, wet flesh.
They began to move in a slow and easy rhythm. Barry let his cock almost slide out of her cunt before pausing and then plunging it back to the hilt quickly. Ellen gasped each time he did that.
They gained momentum. Their bellies slapped as the prick shot back and forth within the cunt. Ellen's hands clawed at Barry's back as she made him roll on top of her to let him fuck her more fully.
Ellen screamed when she came the first time, and as the scream died out her breath came in hard pants amid its echoes. "Come with me the next time, Barry," she pleaded, and he redoubled his efforts.
Barry slid both hands under her ass to guide her movements. Each time his cock was sunk in completely he pulled her ass closer and felt her cunt juice squishing out to mingle with his pubic hairs.
"I'm coming again," Ellen cried, and she pulled his head down, burying it in her hair, while she sunk her teeth into his shoulder.
Barry moved his hips furiously, pounding his cock inside her. When he felt himself about to come he pulled her ass tightly up against him, jamming his cock in as deep as it could possibly go, and as his body stiffened he felt his come jerkily' spurting from the tip of his cock, losing itself in the deep warmth of her cunt. He felt himself seemingly suspended in midair for a moment; then, with a sigh, he collapsed on top of her.
Neither spoke for several minutes as they let their breathing return to normal. Finally Barry picked up his head. With his hand he brushed her hair away from his sweating face and did the same for her. He smiled down into her face before rolling off. His body tingled as he felt a draft drying the sweat.
Ellen broke the silence. "Barry," she said sweetly, "do you think we could spend the rest of the week-end together?"
Before he could answer there came a clamor from the hallway. The door was flung open and five naked men rushed in, yelling and screaming: "Women! We need women! We're having an orgy and we need women!" The men rushed to the side of the bed. "There's one!" they shouted, and before Barry's astounded eyes the men picked Ellen up bodily and thew her across the shoulders of two of them, carrying her like a log. "Women! We need more women!" they shouted as they rushed back into the hall as quickly as they had come.
Barry's eyes met Ellen's as she was borne through the doorway. The eyes seemed to plead for rescue, but Barry was too stunned to move. By the time his wits and strength returned and he managed to make it to the hallway, the five men and Ellen had disappeared.