Chapter 7
It was Marga, from Ohio State.
At first, I was frightened and was going to tell her to sneak back to her own cot, but she slipped in so quietly and, without further ado, lay across by body with her head down between my legs. She took my roaring and frustrated prick into her mouth and began to suck so softly, so quietly, so unobtrusively that I couldn't make her leave.
Her legs straddled my face and I found a sea of pubic hair surrounding my mouth. I pushed my way through the hair and found the tender flesh of her vagina. Her thighs were soaked from the long ordeal of watching Pietro and the others have sex. The moistness rubbed off on my ears and cheeks and my face slid around between her thighs like a cock in a well-oiled cunt.
Around the room I could hear other secret, silent trysts like the one I was having with Marga. It worried me. They weren't all that silent. If Pietro heard, we could be in for a very rough night.
But the wine and the frustration had taken a heavy toll on my resistance. I pressed my buttocks upward, jamming my cock farther and farther into Marga's willing mouth. Her hands clutched my aching balls and I strained to get every ounce of pleasure from this delightful surprise. I couldn't make her go away and I couldn't really worry about what the others were doing. To hell with Pietro, there is only so much any man--or woman--can take, and we had taken the limit.
I spread the lips of Marga's pussy with my fingers and probed the dank, damp interior with my lips and tongue. I found the sensitive little members and lavished kisses on them and Marga squirmed about on my face until I thought my tongue would have an orgasm.
I longed to bury my cock in her flowing cunt--or in her virgin anus--but there was no time to make the shift. And it would be dangerous to make any more noise than we were already making. I was quite con-tent with the suck job she was giving me and I wondered how she had become so expert at it in so short a time. Her tongue was darting around and around the head of my dick in a most professional manner and her cheeks were hollowed out by the pressure of her sucking. She worked her head up and down and my cock slid between wet, gripping lips, as though her mouth were a cunt.
Nothing was said during the entire affair. Our mouths were quite busy with other endeavors. Marga, from Ohio State, had never been in my cot before, although I can't explain why not because she is truly a beautiful creature, but I resolved right then that she would henceforth be a frequent visitor. At least, her mouth would be. God, what a delightful cock-sucker!
I felt her body tense on me and her breasts become taut and almost hard on my stomach as she worked quickly up to climax. Marga had been in my sleeping bag only a few minutes, but one must consider her condition when she arrived. She was practically spilling her orgasm on the floor when she crawled in. It had been one hell of a rough night on unoccupied sex organs.
I was no exception. I was at the point of coming by the bucket load when Marga slipped into my bag. From that point onward, it had been a delaying game--the pitch had already been reached.
Marga worked diligently on my swollen and enraged prick now. She slid the head deep into her mouth and it rode roughly over the back roll of her tongue and prodded the soft flesh of her throat. She made little gagging sounds each time my cock plunged to the maximum depth, but they were pleasing sounds. They heightened my pleasure--and her pleasure, too, I am sure.
And then I was coming. I couldn't restrain the sensual muses any longer. A whole week's frustration burst from my cockhead and into her pretty throat. Marga was equal to the task. She sucked harder to siphon out every drop of semen while I did my best to suck her inside out. I had my mouth covering the entrance to her snatch and my cheeks were hollowed by suction and my tongue was probing deeply into the delectable little supply of organs nestling in her cunt.
She came then.
And she also screamed.
There was a brief flurry in the room while every-one scurried back to his or her own sack. Marga left my cot, semen still dripping from her chin, and dashed across the cold, hard floor to her cot. Then, the room was quiet--you couldn't even hear any breathing.
Sure enough, the door opened and Pietro came in with a lantern. As usual, he was blunt and to the point.
"Who screamed?"
"I did," Marga said.
"Why?"
"I was having a nightmare."
Pietro went to her cot and unzipped her sleeping bag. She was still naked and Pietro spread her legs and brought the lantern close to examine her vagina.
"How come it's wet?"
"I was having a wet nightmare," Marga said.
There were sniggers through the room and I think even old Pietro must have smiled. He crouched there with the lantern glowing on Marga's sopping cunt for a long time; and then he took off his pants and rolled out' the long dark prick. He put the lantern beside the cot and mounted the girl.
"You'd better have another wet one," Pietro growled. "And don't fake the orgasm, kid. I can always tell a fake one."
The rest of us were spellbound by this unusual test of Marga's veracity. Big Pietro rode her roughly, like a rodeo star riding an unbroken steed. At first, Marga was faking her squeals of pleasure, but I don't think Pietro knew that. He rode harder and the squeals became more real, even though Marga had climaxed less than five minutes before.
We listened and watched and I'm certain that more than one person in the room reached climax during that unusual test. Most of the members of the Jilkes Group hadn't had a chance to orgasm before Marga's scream brought a halt to all activity. They did then.
And so did Marga and it was no fake. She blew her wad with a tremendous explosion and a mighty scream; Pietro came into her hungry snatch. When he pulled out and wiped his streaming cock on her sleeping bag, we knew that he had been convinced. Marga lay panting from the supreme effort and Pietro merely smiled and picked up his lantern.
"I don't think you have to worry about having another wet nightmare," he said gruffly, with a trace of humor. "Sleep well, my pretty puss."
As soon as he left, the others went back to their endeavors, desperate to achieve satisfaction, no matter what the penalty. I lay still in my sleeping bag, fighting sleep, listening to the delightful muffled sounds of sex in the Great-house.
One by one, tiny muffled squeals came through the dark, cold air. One by one, they became silent and sleep came to our commune.
With the harvest done, there was little to occupy our time and the days of early winter were heavy on our hands. The girls sat around the Great-house sewing patches on worn clothing and preparing special dishes and decorations for Christmas, which was just around the corner. The men busied themselves with patching up the Great-house, slapping mud into cracks that had been opened by the hot summer sun. We also cleaned the outhouse and took the pickup truck to the dump where we found an old stove. We set the stove up behind the big shower and built a furnace duct from the stove to the shower stall. When the fire was roaring, the shower stall was as warm as any indoor bath and the girls lined up in the frosty air to take their first warm showers since September.
The days were good, but the nights were torture. Pietro's no sex edict still stood and we began to smart under that edict once more. A week before Christmas, he brought Marella into the Great-house and repeated their bizarre whipping-sucking-fucking-dildo act, this time using J.G., from Berkeley, and Mary, from Indiana, as partners.
We gathered in two rows in the Great-house to watch the act. We were all naked, as before, but we were separated and not allowed to touch each other. The business proved too much for horny old David, from West Virginia University, and he came right in the middle of the part where Marella was using the dildo on Mary. He" .didn't do anything special to bring on orgasm. He just stood there between Mark and Charlie with his cock jerking in the air and, all of a sudden, he began to spurt his pearly come into the air and onto the floor. It was something like a wet dream while being wide awake. David seemed pleased with his impossible act until Pietro was finished with his act and came over and made David get down on his hands and knees and lick up the results. Two of the girls volunteered to lick up Dave's come, but Pietro wouldn't have it. I don't think David minded. At least, he did it with a happy smile.
And then, to make certain we didn't disobey the rules again, Pietro kicked me out of my cot that night and slept in it himself. The room was deathly quiet, except for my chattering teeth as I curled up on the floor near the pot-bellied stove to keep warm. It didn't work very well.
We were disappointed in Christmas. Pietro and Marella put on a splendid demonstration with the whips and the dildo and Marella even used the dildo on Pietro to show us it could be done. I never would have believed it if I hadn't seen it. Toodles, from Texas Christian, and Marianne from Northwestern, were the partners that night (Christmas Eve) , and Marianne came three times while Marella was sucking her off. Allan, from Tennessee, got into a small bit of difficulty when he tried to secretly jack off while Pietro was bottom-fucking Toodles, but Pietro saw him and gave him a touch of the whip for his troubles.
Things were getting bad, very bad. We didn't dare take our sex in the Great-house and it was too cold to do it outside. I got Carla, from Southern Cal. out behind the shower stall, beside the old stove we had found at the dump, but we both damned near froze. Even my cock was cold inside her pussy, and it takes a lot of cold to accomplish that. It wasn't really cold-it never gets truly cold in this part of California. But cold is a relative thing. When you're used to a semi-tropical climate and you're also naked, forty degrees can seem like zero. Or less.
Things had to come to a head. It was only a matter of time before something drastic happened and some-body would get hurt. We were peace-loving people; we had come to this beautiful valley in the hills to escape the problems of man and to live in peace. The coming of the big burly Sicilian and his loud motor-cycle had broken the system down a bit and was much on our minds. We didn't want war in the conventional sense, but we certainly didn't have peaceful thoughts about Pietro any more.
The main deterrent now, of course, was Marella. She was more than just a beautiful girl. Although we hadn't been particularly touched by the bizarre story Pietro had told about Marella and her father, the count--in fact, we didn't even believe it--we felt a strange compassion for the girl. She obviously had led a troubled life and she obviously was still troubled. But why? We didn't know. All we knew was that we liked Marella very much: Even the girls liked her and felt close to her. And every guy in the place would have given his left nut to get into her snatch.
So, we went slowly and didn't let our hot heads rule the day.
The first of the year changed the situation drastically.
We had planned a great New Year's Eve party in the Great-house, as we had planned but didn't have a Christmas Eve party. Pietro had merely grunted when we mentioned the party, but hadn't said we couldn't. Come New Years Eve, he walked into the Great-house, ripped down the decorations the girls had worked on all week, tipped over the wooden barrel of punch, said there would be no party, and strode out with his boots clacking.
In defiance, J. C. from Berkeley, decided to openly defy the no sex rule. He grabbed pretty Allison, from Western Kentucky, ripped off her dress and flung her on the nearest cot. He probed the area between her thighs until he had her virtually screaming for his cock; then he went down on her and sucked her pussy until she was nearly insane with lust.
J. C. took his sweet old time making love to Allison. After gamming her for at least twenty minutes, stopping each time she seemed to be near climax, he began to prod the slippery mouth of her cunt with his cockhead. He dabbled this way for a long time, kneeling on the cot with her buttocks lifted high and his cock just needling the soft flesh of her anxious pussy.
Finally, Allison could stand it no more and she cried out loudly: "Cock! Cock! Cock! Give me the goddamn cock!"
But old J. C. just grinned and dabbled his cock-head up and down in the juicy slit. The more Allison screamed for that big staff to ram inside her, the more J. C. smiled and dabbled.
The rest of us were worried that Allison's yells would bring the big Sicilian into the Great-house, so we gathered around the cot and chanted: "Give her the cock, give her the cock, give her the cock."
It worked, but not in time. Just as J. C. leveled off and aimed his missile and began shoving it down into Allison's writhing pussy, the door burst open and in marched Pietro. We all moved back, as though by impulse, and Pietro waddled up to the cot where J. C. was already humping Allison with the fury of the Furies.
"Pull it out," Pietro snarled.
"Go fuck yourself," J. C. called back. He accentuated his anger with the big Sicilian by ramming harder into Allison's pussy.
Pietro was in no mood to fuck himself, or to see anyone fuck anyone. He grabbed J. C. by his long hair, yanked him from the mount and started dragging him out the door. Allison was in agony and she cried out: "Put him back, put him back, put him back."
We heard the slapping sounds as Pietro started beating J. C. That did it. I sidled up to my strongest group members, Wayne, the husky fullback from Purdue and Allen, the rugged tackle from Tennessee.
"I've had it with Pietro," I said to them. "Let's take him. Now!"
"We're right with you, Ron," they said in unison.
We marched out the door and there was Pietro standing over J. C. His fists were lashing out, but J. C. was warding off the blows with his hands and arms. We were amazed to see that J. C. still had a hard-on. Some things take a lot of dying.
We decided not to give the big Sicilian any warning. Allan, who has hands like anvils, marched up behind Pietro and dropped a crushing judo chop on the back of the Sicilian's neck. I waited for Pietro to drop, but he merely turned to face Allan.
There was fire in his eyes.
He cocked his fist to flatten Allen and then the two of us jumped on him.
We pummeled him with our best blows. I got in one uppercut which I brought up all the way from the ground and caught Pietro right under his chin. He didn't even move his head. Allan caught the big Sicilian in the nose with a left hook and Wayne crunched a hard right into his stomach.
Pietro laughed.
Then, slowly, methodically, he proceeded to beat the hell out of all four of us.
I never felt punches like his. One punch in the cheek knocked me senseless. I saw stars and sparks and fireflies all in one big cluster. I crumpled on the hard ground and all the life seemed to sap out-of my arms and legs. Pietro decked Wayne and Allan, then gave me another crushing blow in the face and I blacked out. When I came to, Pietro was going into the small cottage, unruffled, and the girls were tending four prostrate forms on the ground.
They dragged us inside and put us on our cots. We were so ashamed we couldn't open our eyes and look at the others. The shame wasn't only because we had been beaten. Most of it was because we had gone against our principles. We had used violence to solve a problem and we had known all along that violence is never the answer.
For a whole week, peace reigned over the Jilkes Group in the lovely San Andreas Valley of California. Our wounds and our egos healed, but we could never heal the open wound of desire. Every night, when we sacked in, our thoughts were on the lovely bodies of the girls around us. We wanted them. We wanted anything that would bring us relief from the awakened sexual desires that we had voluntarily kept partly concealed all the months before Pietro had come. He had awakened them and had shown us true lust. Now, we were denied the opportunity to take advantage of that lust.
If it had been bad during the summer when we had to work in the fields together, it was ten times worse now in the winter when we were confined pretty much to the Great-house. All the work was done and we were ready for the freezing temperatures of late January and February. The Great-house was warm with the big pot-bellied stove going all the time and the girls went around half naked. This alone was enough to drive us right out of our trees and we were on the verge of total insanity.
Then the dam burst. Pietro and Marella came into the Great-house one night a week after the fight. They had fourteen whips and six dildos and they placed them on the big rough table near the stove. Pietro turned to face us and said with a slight grin on his dark, handsome face; "It's orgy time. You've earned it."
It took us a long moment to realize what he was saying. When he commanded us to strip, though, nobody hesitated. We were naked in the twinkling of an eye.
It wasn't to be a free-for-all orgy. Not that time. Pietro had grand plans for his Marella, but nobody objected. He lined the girls up on one side, the boys on the other. We thought he was merely going to play with us again, forcing us to stand by while he and Marella had their fun with one couple, but he had other plans. He had the girls bring out the wine and, after we had all drank off two big goblets, he had the girls lie on the cots along one side of the room.
"Spread your legs wide," he said.
The guys stood on the opposite side, looking right up thirteen hairy snatches. Needless to say, there were thirteen erect pricks watching with one-eyed intensity as well.
And then Marella took a long whip with three leather thongs. She stood beside the table, lashing her hand gently with the wicked whip. Suddenly, she broke from her position and went down the line of naked girls.
She lashed the whip and they seemed at first to be indiscriminate lashes, but we soon saw that there was a method to her beatings.
She caught Allison across the belly and a faint pink line rose on that rounded little part. The next lash caught Sofia across the .thighs, the next struck Lila over her shoulders. Down the line she went, lashing the girls. Tonia caught a delicious lash across both breasts; Sofia got one on her stomach, just below her breasts; Marga suffered a wicked lash on her legs; Suzanne got one on her right breast; Mary and Marianne and June each got lashes on their thighs; Ludith and Beth and Carla were told to roll over and they got lashes on their gleaming buttocks and fine broad backs.
Marella worked her way back up the line, lashing the girls with uncommon fury. The girls squealed and writhed on the cots, but we could tell that they enjoyed the beatings. Their cunts fairly flowed with moisture. When Marella reached the table again, she was panting and her heavy breasts rose and fell in the dim lamplight. We stared at her naked, sweating body and each of us felt a tight ping in his groin as each felt a tremendous desire to fuck this marvelous, strange girl.
Marella didn't hesitate long at the table. She was still panting when she turned to the girls again, but the whip was not in her hand any longer. She approached Allison and climbed onto the cot above her body. Allison looked up in anticipation and Marella kissed her directly on the lips. The girls embraced and their breasts merged in a pool of perspiration.
They slipped and slithered together in a wild and passionate embrace and we saw Marella's heavy thigh slip up between Allison's legs. She massaged Allison's cunt with the thigh while she held her lips in a long, wet kiss. When she pulled her leg away, we saw moisture from Allison's cunt glistening on Marella's smooth skin.
And then, so swiftly that we hardly saw her move, Marella was between those wet legs. She knelt on hands and knees, her enormous buttocks projecting toward the ceiling. Her head dipped down and her mouth made contact with Allison's enraged cunt. The sounds were marvelous and the men all stood trembling, each with a bead of semen at the tip of his hard cock.
Marella didn't make the girls come. She didn't stay with one girl long enough. She worked her way down the line, sucking cunt after cunt, until she came to the end. Then, she got up and, her-own cunt flowing copiously, she walked back up the line slowly. She stopped beside pretty little Lila, from Kent State, and said in a low voice; "I'll take this one."
Lila squealed in happy anticipation and we wondered what in the world the big Sicilian girl had done to make the girls love her sucking so much. Whatever it was, it was great because all the other girls groaned in disappointment.
"So be it," intoned Pietro. "Let the orgy begin."