Chapter 6
"It wasn't really intercourse!" Pamela coiled in the deep dark leather of the Lincoln and rested her cheek on Ronald's thigh, head tilted to study his inseam bulge.
"You say," he muttered, glancing at the poorly concealed patrol car behind the road sign. "I maybe didn't see it, but I think you made it with Mr. Daniels."
She giggled against his leg, feeling his body stiffen as he watched the police pull out in a swirl of dirt. "I can always tell when you're cop conscious, Ronald. You get that guilty freeze to your body and automatically slow down ten miles per hour."
"So, who needs a ticket?" He watched the black and white streak pass and chuckled in appreciation at her perceptiveness. "And, besides, the boss is supposed to be riding in the back seat. We get stopped, the fuzz might make me live up to my chauffeur's license."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Her hand crept lightly over the phenomenal ridge under his wool knit slacks. "Did I say so?"
"Then why all this nosiness about did I or didn't I with Mr. Daniels?"
"Because my job hangs on it, you might say. If Gelbert has a counterspy watching the spy, that's me, then we both could be in big trouble. Your executor explicitly instructed me if I saw you in the act of intercourse, I had a legal and moral obligation to report it."
"Why legal?"
"Part of the new contract I signed after Mr. Pringle's death. For twenty years." He felt her fingers on his zipper and simultaneously wished she would and wished she wouldn't. "You'll never make it for twenty years," he mourned. "And Fats Gelbert has me up for a ten percent hike annually to be your chaperone. Know what that means? I'd be making sixty thousand a year by the ... awwwhhh ... hey! No fair!"
Pamela wig-waggled the column of soaring stallion flesh, tugging back on the foreskin and making the thick cap contort and swell to the pull of her fist.
"Bet you can hit the windshield from down here." She was squeezing and pulling intently now and Ron felt the quick build-up of his charge. "Tell me you'll sleep with me tonight and I'll stop," she promised.
"You know what'll happen if I do," groaned Ron. "And even if it didn't, if Fats has us under surveillance, as I think he does, one picture of us in the sack and it's all over."
There was a brief exclamation of impatience from low on his body as she intensified his masturbation. "Come, Ronald DeWitt. Shoot it, now!"
"Naw ... heyyy!"
Ahead, beyond the cover of the road shrubs he had seen the tip of the dome light. Too late to stop her, he sucked in his gut and fought the onset of orgasm as he passed the radar watch.
"Guh ... go ... goin!" He humped against the clasping pumping fist and heard her happy squeal as the gism sparkled high and wild across the dash.
Abruptly it stopped and almost as quickly the turbulent rod was ropey spaghetti in her clasp. She sat up slowly, pulling down the passenger visor to use the vanity mirror on the back. There in the glass she saw why Ron was hurriedly hiding his collapsed penis and trying unsuccessfully to zipper his fly. The police care was closing with its rainbow dancing a demand for the Lincoln to pull over.
She was calmly closing his fly as the officer approached I the driver's window. And she was just as calm when the man stared from one to the other with open suspicion.
"First I see a driver only ... then I see two in the front seat. You mind explaining that?"
Pamela looked the man directly in the eye. "I was trying to seduce him. It didn't work."
"Be damned! Joe! C'mere!" The officer motioned his partner. "Run that by Reilly here, will you, miss? That's so honest it don't deserve a ticket. But watch it next time. This here road's got a minimum forty speed. You were crawlin', buddy."
A few moments later, warning ticket pocketed, Ron was hurrying the Lincoln and its unpredictable, impulsive passenger back to Windamere. As if it was the most ordinary of problems, Pamela was calmly wiping the spatter of semen from dash and steering column.
"You really surprised me," she pouted. "I thought sure you could hit the windshield."
He shook his head in pessimistic surrender. "You'll never make twenty years."
She leaned to peck his right cheek and remained close, staring at his profile. "We don't have to make twenty years. If we got caught, say like you say by Fats' private eye, we could split it down the middle. You know the terms. A million a year. We get caught, I give you half and that is at least thirty-five interest a year right now. You don't even have to marry me. Fact, I don't have to marry you."
"No way." He sighed at her openhanded innocence. "You know what that leaves you? Thirty-five a year for life."
"So? It's all I need." She slumped into the corner of the seat.
"And you'd be giving the fat boy all those millions. You're some kind of lady, Mrs. Pringle. But I'd hate myself forever, if I set you up for that kind of fall."
She stared pensively from the window. "Tomorrow you take me to Dr. Steven Lytle, the research wizard in the company labs." Obviously the topic was closed, as far as Pamela was concerned.
"Who is Dr. Lytle?" Ron watched her reflection in the glass and wanted to reach to touch and tell her what a fantastic thing she had done for him in his sexual reawakening.
"He invents things. Ways to measure energy.-Ways to convert it to a study. We may be traveling. Jeremy Daniels wants me to take some of the latest of Dr. Lytle's devices to some of the field stations."
"Probably trying to get you out of town," grumbled Ron. "Any chance he might be dangerous to you? You know I know what went on before his secretary broke in and I didn't see a thing. But she did. Suppose they decide to do you in for breaking the will's stipulation?"
If she heard him, there was no sign she understood. "How's your self-control?"
"Around you?" He tooled up the long drive to the turn-around in front of Windamere, pressing the electronic control on the Lincoln's side panel to close the heavy iron entry gates behind them. "Now that closes off the world ... unless someone snuck in while we were out."
"One of Fats' snoops? Who cares? If we aren't in bed or doing that awful thing they call copulation out in the open air, they can't hurt me. So I need my back scrubbed in the shower."
He was silent escorting her into the house and once inside, he excused himself to check security. Walking from sensor box to closed circuit to electronic warning center, he was lost in thought. Pamela was in the kitchen nibbling cold chicken when he returned from the check.
"So, what's the verdict?" '
"Everything's tight."
She selected a thigh from the dish and waved it invitingly but he shook his head and went for a cold Bud. "Don't you just love to eat chicken?"
Her pantomime was unsubtle ... her eyes unwavering on his face as she mouthed the phallic shape of the chicken thigh. He tried to take his eves from the mesmerizing wonder of those sucking lips. The ripe, moist thirstiness of them had clamped in savage demand on him there in the office. Now, as she munched the chicken, her sensuous lips, were again playing. Pretending to eat chicken, but wanting to eat Ronald. "I'd like to rub your back," he said.
There in the shower, they ate each other. He first, because ... well, because he just faked her out as he scrubbed her with the washcloth, going to his knees behind her, then turning her at just the right instant.
She tripped lightly as she spun round and his arms went tight round her buttocks to keep her from falling. And there at the most vulnerable point a girl could be, her cute pudendum was a breath away from his parted lips.
He made her orgasm on her feet, soaked by the shower while he practiced cunnilingus. His tongue snaked into the cute pussy cleft made tight and wrinkled by the water flow. He found a terribly bothered clitty nubbin and tongued it through her orgasm while she grabbed the' shower faucets and hung on desperately as erotic sensations stabbed to very corner.
The girl was a very special kind of nut, thrilled to be on exhibition when he was voyeuring, but especially thrilled when she was trapped into orgasms, ready or not. He tongued and licked her through five before she wilted to the shower tiles and burrowed into his crotch.
"Ohhh, I just love to eat this!" she moaned, slapping herself with the wet horny prick, then engulfing its bulbous crown in one avaricious gulp. Her fellatio was an act of piracy, stealing mercilessly from his treasure store of semen, sucking him through one climax into another, then darting from the shower stall in pretend fear of retribution. She raced into the bedroom, drying herself and when he left the bathroom minutes later she was already curled under the satin sheets of the great bed.
God, she looked inviting! He knew he was to her. There was only the tiny light from the nightstand casting a shimmering glow across her platinum silver hair, highlighting the rise and fall of her breasts beneath the sheets and outlining the rest of her body in shadows. She was unbearably desirable.
He dressed quickly and left the room, whispering, "Goodnight" to one he knew was still awake.
Setting the security switches, he stepped from the front door into the night, humming softly. Just as he reached the car a fist crashed across the back of his head, sprawling him into the drive.
"So, why didn't you sleep with her, you yo-yo?"
Ron moved to. his knees and stared up at three shadows planted before him and as he pushed upward, a foot took him directly across the chin.
"Next time we come, buster, we better find you in bed with the broad. Clear?"
The foot was about three inches closer than it should have been and Ron timed it perfectly. A startled cry as the foot's owner smashed against the macadam and before the other two could coordinate, one was down and the other spread across the car hood.
Ron searched the unconscious forms before he went for the phone, took the paper he needed from the leader and slammed the man's head against the drive when his groan warned he was coming round.
Minutes later a squad car was at the gate and within ten the trio was on its way to answer charges of an attempted B and E.
Ron stepped back into Windamere and listened at the foot of the stairs. No sound from the master bedroom. He knew it was Pamela's way. She had seen everything. Half-way down the steps to the car he threw a quick glance at the turret window directly above the main entry and saw the curtain move. Pamela Pringle was quite the lady. He tossed the window a salute. If he chose to be alone, that was her wish, too, and he felt a tremor of fierce temptation to dash back in and charge up to her room. But if there were three hoods from Fats Gelbert, there easily could be six more waiting in the wings. Nineteen million dollars was a lot of bread.
"This does what?" Pamela fingered the curious band aid size instrument
"Measures the greatest energy of all." Dr. Steve Lytle grinned as he watched her examine the Energasm Computer. "It's a little quasi-official research of my own, but come look at the more interesting things my colleagues are doing."
His colleagues, a dozen females, and twice that number males, were busy with half-a-dozen experiments, simultaneously. It was a long, low-ceilinged laboratory, divided into many rooms. Lytle walked his very special guest to the first in which the generators of all kinds of traditional energy were being tested.
Pamela's thought kept returning to the tiny plastic unit Lytle had reclaimed just before they left his office on the lab tour. He had promised to tell her of it later, but the curious flush in his cheeks made her doubt it. Lytle was somewhat embarrassed by his initial enthusiasm about what he'd called an Energasm Computer.
"Now here they're working on that old standby ... oil." He pointed through the glass at the two lab technicians marking a graph. "They're measuring B.T.U.s ... and...."
"And why are we watching through one-way glass?" she asked unexpectedly.
"Didn't Dr. Daniels tell you? It's a high echelon secret for brass and twenty-one percent stockholders. You noticed we moved into the observation channel directly through the wall behind the office safe in my digs? These people don't know they're being observed. He feels it would inhibit their work."
"Seems a little sneaky."
Again that cute flush stained his cheeks. "Not at all. Tell me, did he really want you to see everything down here? His memo said so to me."
"Everything," she replied quietly, feeling the expectancy build. "Even your private research project. You see, I'm going to be visiting the field stations of Energies Unlimited over the next year. So it's not just nosy curiosity by a stockholder. I might be useful to you as a courier of some of your ideas needing testing." Pamela hurried after him down the corridor.
He was silent, studying the clip board in the bend of his arm and, she suspected, mulling her last comment. Pamela liked Dr. Steven Lytle. Tall and slender, probably early thirties, she guessed, he was homely and boyish in his enthusiasm for applications of energy.
At the next to the last work lab he stood close behind her, pointing out the techninue two men were using to measure the thermal units of energy from the sun on the flesh of a shapely, light skinned black and that of an equally well stacked Eurasian. His nearness felt nice to a bothered Pam. Both girls wore only the minutest bra and panty combinations and were stretched on their backs on air mattresses, arms and legs out-flung under the sunlight source.
"We're very informal here," Lytle remarked when he saw her intense interest in the bantering and kidding between researchers and subjects. "They're actually rigging them for dermatological tests of the thermal impact of the sun on sensitive skin areas."
"Fascinating." She was sure she saw the full bulge of a hardened cock crown in the shadows of one lab tech's smock. He straightened from attaching sensor cups to the hollowing of the black's neck and hip and she was positive the lab man was hot for the black. "Why don't they test the most sensitive spots to sun energy?"
Lytle brightened instantly and walked to the wall phone. "I'll give them a call from my office," he winked. "Tell them I just thought of that."
"Liar," she teased. "They are informal!" The visibly bothered male technician went to the wall phone on Steve's ring and made no effort to conceal his jutting prick, now bolting through the opening of his gray smock. Pam saw both girls had noticed the fierce arousal...." oh, and Larry, testing breast flesh and the mons veneris flesh is testing solar energy impact, not your own impact."
"Sure, unit leader Lytle! Hey, that sounds like R.A.F. stuff!" Larry's voice carried over the conference speaker above the viewing panel. "Pure devotion to scientific research, that's us."
Pamela felt the proximity of Steven Lytle as he returned to stand behind her, watching. "If President Daniels didn't mean this candid a look at our research, I'm dead." He pointed across her shoulder at the bank of instrumentation over against the far wall.
"Everything gets measured there."
She noticed Steve's wedding band.
She shifted her weight from one leg to the other and the slight move back drove her tail directly against a blunt, unyielding object. The gasp that burst from her guide's lips left no doubt he hadn't planned the collision of cock with the cute ass of his guest. Her hand darted behind her and closed on the formidable shaft ramrodding disrespectfully against his slacks.
"I'd say not everything gets measured in there." She continued to stare into the lab room as she fingered the grossly inflated phallic crown.
Easing closer to the infinitely desirable woman before him, a startled research director guessed she sooner or later would know the vivacious sexuality of this place and his own casual acceptance of it. He wondered if he dared to act on his gut feeling.
"You're married," Pamela observed matter-of-factly, mildly curious at his lack of resistance to her bold overture.
"That's my wife." He nodded across her shoulder toward the voluptuous Eurasian in the next room. From their proximity Pam could see she wore a matching wedding ring. "Vita loves this research."
"I can see," agreed Pamela, intrigued by the flawless burnt almond creaminess of Vita's skin. "Does she know about your viewing points in the lab?"
Steve nodded vigorously. "It wouldn't be fair to try to hide it from her. It doesn't inhibit her at all. See, she loves me; she also knows I love to see her exciting another man."
"What about that much excitement?" She pointed to the by-play between Vita and the technician Larry. As he pulled away her bikini panties and bent to attach the sensor node, her hand went brazenly through the gapping of the formless smock. Steve and Pam watched her draw Larry's erection into view and fondle it as he pretended to be preoccupied with the node.
"I understand her," he said simply. "She has a beautiful love of life. Her name says it all. I imagine Larry takes her at least once a day. He enjoys Andrea, too, and it's good. On these teams you need a lot of respect and no pussyfooting on very basic desire."
"Hmmmmmhh." Pamela ended the fondling of the phallus that had somehow slipped from a zipped fly and become nakedly urgent against her buttocks. "It's kind of refreshing. I wonder if Vita has that kind of generosity toward you. Has she seen you take another woman?"
"I haven't even actually seen another man take her. I just assume." He stepped past Pamela and pressed close to the glass, his impressive erection leaping as he studied the play between Larry and Vita. "As a matter-of-fact, I'd like to see that once."
"Maybe you picked the right day," she murmured, reversing the way it was and moving directly behind Lytle. "If it's all mutual respect and no pussyfooting, what if a stranger intrudes to do this?" Her arms circled his hips and found the target and as she pulled open the smock and bared the long, very ready bar of horny gristle, Vita turned her face toward the one-way glass.
Pamela felt the quiver race down Steve's spine. "Now I know how you'd feel if you were in the same room right now. I think, Dr. Lytle, you are something of a hypocrite. You want to voyeur your wife, but you have cardiac arrest to even imagine her seeing you handled by another woman."
He turned away silent, meditating the accusation. When he turned back, he was zipped. "Maybe I do and didn't even recognize it. You know, it's a whole brand new avenue of energy research." He fished the miniaturized instrument that had fascinated Pamela from the first moment she saw it in his office. "Here's a way to find out if energies are depleted or superheated when there's maybe guilt or a lot of tension."
"Energasm measures what energy unit? Don't tell me-let me guess." She took the tiny instrument and fingered the adhesive backing. "Orgasm energy?"
"Exactly!" He retrieved the unit and pointed out the full set of kinetic, actual, potential and other energy gauges and smiled at the awe in her expression. "Age of the teeny tiny. Solid state, the guts miniaturized to microscopic proportions and this little tell-tale will fit on either male or female."
"Where?"
"At the point of maximum kinesthesia. The shaft of an erect penis or the threshold of a vagina."
"Has it been tried?"
He nodded over his shoulder at the foursome. "Every one of the employees of this place has volunteered to wear one constantly. That's why I surmise Larry is intimate with my wife most every day. See, there's a feed-' back to the central receptor office. We know exactly when someone is in orgasm in the plant. Just not refined enough to feed back with whom or where and not enough budget to hire a monitor."
Pamela brushed a wandering lock out of her eyes and saw the intensity of Steve's watching the scene in the next room. More than scientific curiosity, she was sure.
She tugged his sleeve and whispered in his ear, "I hope you really meant the mutual respect and understanding bit."
They watched Larry drop across Vita's legs to plant the solar sensor node on the rise of her vee mound. Still straddled across the beautifully contoured turn of her thigh, he angled his rigid prick through barely separated legs. She was clearly used to her visitor.
"Good," they heard Vita coo as the cock slipped into the threshold of her cunt. "Ooohhh ... that is the nicest I've felt down there all day."
Steve pounded his palm with his fist. "Be a sonofabitch! We made love before we got up this morning and she likes this more!" His neck colored and Pamela saw the stiffening at his slacks front which had been wilted all through his mini lecture on Energasms. He was a contradiction in himself, she thought.
It would be very interesting to see how bright young scientists like these handled personal jealousies and sexual crises that muscled in on monogamy. Somehow the feeling grew on Pamela that it would be a very old story of outraged cuckolded husband and betrayed wife. She remembered the fury at first when Janice had discovered Jeremy Daniels in flagrante delicto with a total stranger. And Janice was only Jeremy's lover. What would a wife do?
Pamela watched the luscious Mrs. Steven Lytle admit her adulterer fully between her legs. Pam fought the impulse for a moment, then openly studied Steve as he gaped at Vita.
"Hurts, huh?"
"A little." His fingers crept into hers. "Come on into the master control room and watch them peak. First time I've been sure when Vita's climaxing in intercourse."
Inside the room which seemed floor-to-ceiling with gauges and fluttering lights and spinning tapes, Pamela saw Steven begin to relax again. He walked directly to the two recording units measuring sexual energy in Larry and his playmate.
"My wife is very intense about her sex," he muttered as the numerical print-out below the recording showed her cresting again and again. Suddenly both print-outs were quadruple their norm, teetering up and down and down and up.
"What's that?"
"Not sure." Steve frowned at the erratic pattern. "I believe we might be watching Larry ejaculating into my wife."
"How nice."
Pamela hoped she didn't register all the irritation she felt. She actually felt twice the age of this curiously detached scientist who seemed bent on reducing the sublime to the ridiculous. A little maternal and a little square. Through the last minutes of what Larry had made a very protracted act of sex, Steve Lytle had been totally erected again. "Have you a second one of your Energasms?"
"Of course."
His eyes were suddenly interested after having gone lifeless as the mutual mania of his wife with another man reached 321 over 307.
"Does that higher figure mean that the best orgasm was Vita's?"
"Only the most potent energy wise." He turned toward her and seized her hands. "You see, we just have the prototype in limited numbers of Energasm. I've finished a portable scanner to take the tests to the field, but we haven't yet begun to study things like most meaningful orgasms, greatest semen discharge or a lot of things that could mean much for the world. For procreation, at least."
"Who wants to do it for that?" She pulled his hands around her waist and stepped close. "I wonder how your wife would feel about watching your own ejaculation into another girl."
For the first time his off again/on again hard-on was jammed against her middle.
"So, don't you think a fair-skinned Anglo like me would be a nice contrast for studying solar energy along with a black and a bronze job?"
"Vita has olive skin," he chuckled, then caught his breath as she brazenly opened his obstructive smock and fixed the Energasm at the root of his erection. "Male or female don't even feel it. It's beautiful for testing." He drew her to the day bed in the corner of the master sensor control and quickly and skillfully undressed her.
"Ohhhh, Lord!" he groaned as he drew her panties down golden smooth thighs and bared the most intimate part of Pamela Pringle. "Vita will come unglued at the new kid on the block. I'm already unglued." He fingered his bone hardness. "Let's practice before we tangle with the troops."
"No way. Besides, you haven't plugged in our units to the recorder. I want to know what I score when I get it."
Somehow Steve managed to tune the remote Energasms to the master control, in spite of the casual near nude stretched maddeningly on the cot. Only her bra remained and she had asked Steve not to take it off. "Frequency thing," he murmured as he adjusted megahertz codes. "No wires like your sex study clinics ... everything is free and open, and constantly recorded."
"Would that also be true for your field unit?" Pam felt something of the spell that must beset a sexual scientist. She could be naked, excited and nearing play, yet detached and academic. "How portable is it, really?"
"No bigger than a briefcase. You could carry it easily, for example ... sayyyy...." His eyes brightened as a notion grabbed him, but her tantalizing movement on the bed stopped the thought. She was no longer listening to him, a stronger voice deep inside her too long vacated vagina was needling and he watched her toying with her nipples.
"Like that!" He studied the print out of her Energasm response. "Let me ask, do you mind exciting yourself more to give me a reading? Only for a second," he added apologetically.
Pamela's fingers stroked-over hyper-sensitized pussy flesh and the arrow on the wall gauge leaped violently. "That's me?" she asked.
"You. One of you is very highly sexed, either the Energasm unit or you, but I think it's you. Would you mind ... a little more ...?"
He was amusing himself, thought Pamela, fingering through yielding cunt lips and stroking the tip of the clitoris. There was something hypnotizing about Steve's eyes as her self-play began to claim her from idle fondling to urgent stroking. She wondered if a man ever had watched her masturbate. Why did it feel so awfully good?
"Spread your legs wider," she heard him demand and she obeyed. "Now, finger open your labia. Do it! Do it, Mrs. Pringle!" With a volcanic rush the climax struck her, shuddering through her whole being and transporting her to a new dimension in exhibitionism. "Beautiful...." His praise seemed to come from some faraway cloud.
Vita Lytle was still linked in coital embrace to the technician when the door to Experimental Room 8 opened unexpectedly. She gripped her playmate's bare shoulders with sudden ferocity at the surprise visit from her husband. She had been expecting it. She knew her husband could at any time join their daily play break, likely often watched it from behind the window, though he denied that.
But she hadn't been prepared for him to come into the softly lit room with a gorgeous female in tow. Even in the shapeless smock it was obvious this dazzling woman of the sparkling platinum hair and the bared legs was a female of keen interest to her husband. He was making no effort to conceal the excitement jabbing into view through the middle of his smock.
"Mrs. Pringle has called me a hypocrite," he said in a curiously strained voice. "We happened to be passing and I declared I'd prove I wasn't. No, don't move, Larry. Room for six on this busy wrestling mat, isn't there?"
There was, and loving hands drew Pamela and Steve into the midst of the bodies. It was the lifting of a weight from Vita's shoulders, even as the envy glittered like flint in her dark eyes. Her husband was as open with her now as she had wanted to be with him. Never admitting to copulation fun in the lab day, always imagining he was there beyond the window watching, but never daring to ask.
"My very first chance to study your print-outs while you were coming," Steve said, squirming with Pamela into the tight space between Vita on one side and Andrea, the black, on the other. "We're going to try some controlled experiments now. Since you're already positioned for what I had in mind, stay with your present partners while I introduce you to Mrs. Pamela Pringle as a guest star."
"How do we know she's a star?" Vita had cute pouting lips, Pam thought. "She's hiding her breasts under her bra. Maybe she isn't a star at all."
"Why don't you check it out, darling?" Steve winked at his wife and she crinkled her nose disdainfully, but obeyed the request, reaching for the bra snaps.
"Ooohhhh!" Andrea wriggled almost free of the coital embrace with her playmate to reach and touch the enticing fullness of the ivory globes. "She's a star. Ooohh, she even bothers me!"
"Everything bothers Andrea," snipped Vita, moving slowly at the waist to begin a slow rotation against Larry's deeply driven phallus. "Larry, fuck me. I want to be all messed up with you when Steven does what he has to do, else I'll kill them both where they he!"
The couples on either side of them began to grind slowly and sensuously and the coital magnetism was overwhelming. Andrea's impudent ass shoved against Pamela's buttocks while the saucy tautness of Vita's tail pressed Steve's hip as she copulated with Larry.
Pamela saw Vita's lowered lashes as she pretended not to watch the merger of her husband's brimming hard-on with another woman's body. The slight flicker of the long lashes, then sudden wide-eyed staring gave Pamela a heart flutter of expecting another scene like that with Janice.
Instead, Vita did a curious, beautiful thing. Body writhing to the piston thrusts of Larry, she arched up and almost over Steve's shoulder, turning her face toward Pamela.
"Kiss me," she whispered in a voice so low, Pamela wondered if the others heard. "Please kiss me, Pamela," her whisper was audible plea now. "I want to show love to the first woman I've ever watched take Stevie inside her."
There was an eerie madness about it, a feeling like none Pam could imagine to press her lips to Vita's while Steve pressed his cock just inside her cunt lips.
"Is he way in yet?" murmured Vita against Pamela's lips.
"This far." Pam slipped her tongue barely past the carmine softness of Vita's mouth.
It was an incredibly erotic feeling to the Eruasian beauty for another woman's tongue to be telegraphing her husband's adultery. When the tight clamp of Pammy's vagina resisted the easy plunge of his cock, Steve began a rat-a-tat pistoning against the clasping cunt muscles and Pammy's tongue reported it to Vita's mouth in tiny stabbing thrusts.
The clutching quim walls yielded to the onslaught of the determined cock and as Steve's erection drove deeply into her body, Pamela's tongue drove far into the warm oral pit of Vita's mouth. She glanced down and saw that husband and wife were holding hands in a fierce clasp as they copulated with other partners.
"Ohmigod!" moaned Steve, his orgasm storming for release in perfect synchronization with Pamela's.
An answering cry of ecstasy sounded deep in the lovely throat of Vita as she kissed Pamela even more feverishly. It was a demanding, fiercely exciting kind of four-way orgasm and the ejaculations of both Larry and Steve seemed to race on and on in endless tribute to the girls.
Without needing Steve to verbalize instructions for the next playtime, the two couples disengaged only at their body locks. Legs and arms entwining with each other, the four writhed across the pulsing excitement of Andrea and Terry, engulfing the beautiful black and the youngest male technician of the labs in their play.
It was a symphony of seduction and spontaneous coitus.
There was no special target for any of the participants. In the lighthearted wrestling of the sex, a fierce erection pressed Pamela's warm, surrendered vulva and suddenly there was a cock inside her cunt. Several deep thrusts and it was gone, torn from its spasm-whipped hostess by the giggling, carefree squirming of another pair.
Sweet compelling fragrance of girl flesh! Pussy pressed close to Pamela's cheek as one of the girls wriggled for a new position, her darling labia a breath away. Pamela clutched fiercely to hold straining hips and burrowed into the palpitating cleft. A shrill cry of near instant climax broke from whomever Pamela held and at the same second a muscled thigh crept over her hips. Pammy's lesby kiss was replaced with a male organ jabbing and shoving into the saliva moistened cunt slit. .
"Let's make a circle of love!" cried Vita, catching Pamela's hand and drawing her to a position below Steve's thighs. Everyone has to wiggle and turn right where they are till we make a six people circle with each one of us doing something wonderful to someone else. Long as it's opposites, it'll come out even."
Pamela reached for the nearest opposite and her fist closed on Steve's wildly erected cock. "There!" squealed Vita. "That's the first connection. Steven's been crawling all over everybody but he's been waiting for one to come back..;. I've been watching, Stevie, baby."
"Can't help it, darling. Pamela's just got me a little out of my tree."
"She has all of us, but she gets you. Show Andrea and me how ... please?" Her eyes were wide dark circles of pleading as she puckered her lips suggestively. "I don't really know how to do it."
The circle of love writhed and turned and meshed, body to body, phallus to vagina and in Steve's case Pamela's lips sealed to his cock. It was an altogether possessed fellatio that the others watched even as they played. Pamela nursed the darkening mushroom crown, squeezing the root to thicken the glans cap.
A last storm of self-consciousness swept her as she guided the swollen tip into her lips. Looking across the circle of love she saw Vita's intense stare. Pamela spewed the glistening tip of Steve's prick into the air and held it between her face and Vita's, looking at the pouting preoccupation of the other girl.
"You really want me to do it?" she asked. "You want me to perform fellatio on your husband with you watching?"
"Please. I want you to suck his pretty cock and drink his come. I've never." She shivered as her new play partner Terry ground his excitement deeply into her passion pit. "I love seeing Steve's prick shoved into your pretty face. He's really ugly and you're so beautiful!"
Maybe that's why you've never tasted his come, thought Pamela, stretching her head far back, feeling the light tumble of her hair across her shoulders and arching to position herself for the act.
"Look at her boobs!" breathed an awed Larry, lifting his head to stare up the front of Pam's curvaceous torso. "They are really excited!"
And they were.
As Pamela caught the thick barrel of Steve's cock and felt her audience watching, all her being seemed involved in the suck-off of another girl's man. She slurped and siphoned and munched and finally, wild for wanting his gift, she sucked in brazen frenzy, fondling his full balls and caressing the underbarrel of his shaft to hurry his ejaculation.
It cannonaded into her mouth, racing warm and light and impudent. Writhing to the maniacal cunnilingus that matched her own oral play with Steve, Pam let herself come to the tonguing demands of Larry.
Very slowly their mutual hungers quieted and the sextet unwound into six separate bodies, sprawled and spent on the mat. They talked of the potentials of Energasm in spontaneous sexual research projects and as the five exchanged views, Pamela felt the idea coming of age that had been needling her.
"Why not let me take some Energasm units and the portable control with me? I'm going to visit Energies Unlimited installations around the world and I could introduce the latest R and D project. Maybe be kind of an ambassador for the shadowy side of Energies. You know, to all those stodgy managerial types around the world for Energies Unlimited. All they ever think of is solar energy and petrol energy and electric energy ... and promotions."
"And how would you introduce something like an Energasm?" Steve was on his feet, getting back into slacks and smock, once more the lab director. "Stodgy types aren't going to really like what you call the shadowy side of our research back here, are they?"
Pamela propped her chin between her palms and sprawled unconcernedly on her front while the others dressed. "To tell you the truth, I bet they go wild for it. They're going to be meeting a gal who doesn't believe in one special bit of energy this corporation has insisted on wasting too long."
She pushed to a sitting position and shrugged naked into the smock that Terry laid across her shoulders. "See, I happen to believe this company killed my husband; Used up all his energy on lots less important things than what we were just doing." She gestured impatiently at the five of them. "You're all lots like Arthur was, except that you're young and you have super demanding sexual needs. You still can put priorities where they belong before it's too late, but you've got to decide. Is it all career, or lots of both sex and career? Most of the guys go career." She shook her head sadly. "I've watched dozens of them leave widows like me just because Energies Unlimited dangled the golden carrot in front of their nose."
"Treason talk," chuckled Steve nervously.
"It isn't and you know it!" flared Pamela. "You're going to work lots better the rest of the day for our playing for awhile, right?"
"You know it!" He pulled her to her feet, caught an arm around his wife's waist and steered both girls toward the door. "We have got to go see what that funny computer has to say about our misbehavior!"
Ron was secretly delighted by Pamela's announcement as he drove her home from the lab. "We're leaving next week?"
She nodded excitedly. "I'm a kind of ambassador without portfolio. We're going from the home office to some of the brighter young executives who Jeremy feels have great promise for top brass. He's also asked me to take a couple of new product items Research has been working on along special energy lines."
He cocked a quizzical eyebrow at that special radiance he had come to recognize and love in this girl who no longer was only an employer. There was a dynamite chemistry between them. Their metabolisms must have identical compositions, he had decided waiting for her in the laboratory lobby. Several times in the course of the two hour wait he had gone irresistibly hard and after the first one had glanced at his watch.
"Was the new product briefing what took you so long at the lab?" he asked noncommittally, turning into Windamere's drive.
"Nosy." She had a challenge in her eye but not hostility. The man at the wheel was building up to ask more and she really didn't mind. His only "moral legal" dilemma, as he called it, would come from actually seeing her in the act of sexual intercourse. Hearsay or alternatives to copulation made no problem.
In her mind there was no problem at all-moral, legal or anything. Ronald, who had been sexually dead for fifteen years, had come sizzling back to desire-driven sexuality. Till now his bubbling, seething reawakening penis was stirred only by her. That well might not remain her monopoly for long. It was a worthless monopoly with that damned codicil in Arthur's last will and testament.
No act of intercourse for twenty years! There was no way she could honor that as morally binding. A dead man asking her to lie down and die. And a very much alive, honorable guy at the wheel of her Lincoln who felt responsibility to such an evil demand. , She'd break Ronald's misplaced sense of loyalty somehow. For more than his fantastic phallus she felt a deep stirring inside. She wondered if what she was calling love was wanting favor with the man who had such power over her future.
"No way," she said abruptly, staring out the window at the late fall landscape.
"No way what?" Ron thought she was denying sexual action at Energies Urilimited Labs. "I bet you did. It's none of my business, but I can tell you when."
"So tell." She crinkled her nose disdainfully.
He handed her a telephone memo slip borrowed from the receptionist in the lab lobby and Pam studied the figures.
"About 2:17 p.m.-exactly 2:26 p.m.!-2:39p.m.!3:02-3:05!-3:08!-3:27!"
For a quiet moment she simply stared at the slip of paper and thought. There was only one possible way. "You were watching!"
"No." He debated telling what he doubted she would believe. "But you did climax at those times, didn't you?"
She sighed and curled sexily in the door corner of the passenger side. "You must have been watching." She glanced at the paper again. "Wasn't I awful at three-two, three-five and three-eight? I just couldn't stop coming. Ronald! You are getting the biggest erection remembering your peeping torn act."
"Please, don't sit against the door!" he snapped. "It makes me nervous. You might fall out."
"Out of a Lincoln? You're getting a bigger one, thinking of losing me." She giggled at his concern but didn't move. "So, Sherlock, are you turning me in to Fats Gelbert, my executioner? Walk into his office wearing that big thing and maybe he'll split the other nineteen million with you. Doesn't matter whose did it, just as long as some male organ went into my little vagina. Right? Just don't count on any favors from Fats ... or from me, if you blow the whistle."
He chuckled quietly. "When you get done running off at the mouth ... tell me."
"I'm done."
He pulled to the curb before the main door of Windamere. "I didn't see you at those times. I felt you. And I wouldn't be able to turn you in now, even if I had. You know why."
Pamela felt her head swirl to the double revelation. She always had thought he would not turn her in, even if he caught her. But that other discovery. ... "You felt me coming?"
"Don't ask me if I'm some kind of ESP freak or something. I don't know how, but I know at those times I went hard as a rock right then. Lasted thirty to fifty seconds. I could actually feel the way it must have felt to who you were ... making it with...." His face colored as she continued to stare, trying not to believe him, but having to.
"Go on," she encouraged.
"The two girls back there at the lab reception lobby are probably whispering about your chauffeur right now."
"Why?"
"I told you how I'm not turned on by other females. Well, when I got really zapped by that first time sensation-what was it about two-seventeen? Anyway I had a feeling and asked one of those two gals at the desks if I could bum a piece of paper. One waved her memo pad at me and I really hadn't counted on having to walk to get it; you know, they usually fall all over you with courtesy, these reception gals....
"Anyhow, I still had most of my hard-on jamming my damned pants! Forbes Magazine didn't cover it, I guess, and when I tried to stroll nonchalantly to get the paper, both of them stared. When I got back I saw why. I'd shot, right at the second I got those first wild vibes from you.
Not even touching myself! Here was this ring where it had oozed through from my jockeys to the front of my pants!"
"Wayyyittt!" A fascinated Pamela stretched across the seat and rested her hand casually on the fiercely bulging slacks. There were traces of wetness. "You're telling me you actually came to something you felt I was doing?"
He visibly shuddered. "Maybe it's because I'm so psyched after fifteen years. There's something weird. You're the only one to make me like this. Listen, I felt the second climax you had building up and I went rock hard again and felt that bubbling start. I even stared at the two secretaries, thinking it would cool me down...."
"Most men would go the opposite route, looking at those two. Didn't you find them attractive?"
She remembered Steve Lytle telling her about the female "window dressing" in the lobby where he kept two of his favorite lab experiments busy when they weren't being used as his prime testers of the Energasm unit.
She ran their job description down for Ron to get him to go on with his story. "They probably thought you were their stud for the day."
"Any other time," he grunted. "Some stack jobs! So that's why they kept watching? I know damned well the cute redhead saw my last dumb ass trick. I kept getting hotter and hotter and only shot that first time, but felt right at the brink every other ... jeez! You peaked out six times ... not the same guy, I hope."
"Three." She felt "a tremor at the freedom she felt to be honest with this man at her side. "So, what happened on the seventh?"
"Couldn't help myself. Tried to shield it with the Wall Street Journal, but I don't think I kidded the redhead. I unzipped and pulled it out and, well ... I masturbated "right in time with your buildup."
"I believe you."
Pamela rested her hand lightly on the still covered erection. "Thank you for telling me. I'm really honored. I like you a very lot, Ronald DeWitt. And I respect your problem about us. You do whatever you have to do about reporting me, if you see anything like intercourse, 'cause you're liable to on our trip."
He shook his head, weary with the dilemma of his watchdog job and his fantastic identification with this sweet, happy-go-lucky lady. God, if she just wasn't such a delicious impact on his emotions! If he could write her off as a no-good nymph, but he couldn't. It was this sizzling voluptuary who had freed him from his imprisonment to impotency. Without her, he still would be a eunuch.
"I made a decision," he said tersely. "You maybe have made one that vetoes it, but to be really your bodyguard, I've decided I ought to be close where I can guard your body. At least, at sleeping times."
"Honestly?" She inched across the seat till she was pressed against his shoulder, staring intently at the curious determination on his face. "Do you mean you would be willing to guard me at night, right in my own bed?"
"Something like that." He flushed uncomfortably at the strange fence he was teetering on in his proposition. Employee to employer? Call it what it was, he thought to himself. A male in love wanting to be near the female he idolized. Maybe she'd be annoyed at his excuse of better protection. He held his breath.
"I think that is a super idea," she said softly, leaning to press a light kiss to his cheek. "But I should warn you, I sleep wearing my perfume."
"Nothing else?"
"Huhunnnhh." She pushed back to the middle of the seat. "Do you wear anything?"
"Not perfume."
"Any ground rules of security from my bodyguard ... I mean, for bedtime security?"
"Just one. You know it already."
She fell silent, mulling the possibilities beyond the coitus prohibition. Would he change his mind and go cold? Would actually being in a woman's bed maybe even return his problem? That's where it began years earlier. Her heart tripped uncertainly over the good and the bad potentials of the new step. And it grabbed her, very quietly but very firmly, that it made one hell of a difference to her not to hurt this man.
It was very late.
One week to the day after they had begun sleeping together.
Their play with each other in bed, she tried to tell herself, should be more than enough of a sex life. They did everything but copulate. And they did it repeatedly.
,A long-starved male with an incredibly long penis to devil her, put it in every nook and crevice he could find. Now as they wrestled and writhed in play he shot unbelievable loads of love. Every erogenous point on her body forced ejaculations from beautifully outsized, oversexed Ronald. All but her vagina.
She had sucked him and licked him. God, he could mount a head! His cute foreskin would slither back to her busy lips and her tongue would madden the sensitive underside of his glans cap and craze a million erotic nerves along that huge protruding ledge.
But neither his coming into her mouth nor splattering semen deep into her throat brought Pamela to climax. It was fun and frightfully arousing to have him jab that monster into her navel, her armpits, her eyes and ears, but there was no ditty trigger in any of those sensation-ridden places.
And while he seemed to get right to the edge of anal intercourse, cramming that impossible cock crown through her ass cheeks and into the very ready tail cleft, he was stopped by the stupid moral/legal bit of his contract with a dead man.
Dumb!
A very frustrated Pamela lay next to him this night before they were to fly to half-a-dozen overseas Energies Unlimited centers. He now was sound asleep and very out of it. They had played for less than an hour and he hadn't been his usual potent self this night.
A beautiful part of his sexuality was wanting her to be really fulfilled. Cunnilingus was not only permissible by the letter of the law of his contract, it was the only thing that brought part of him in contact with her clitoris.
And so, as on every other night, he had kissed and siphoned that tempestuous clitty and brought her on in shattering orgasms that had her clinging to the sides of his head to try to force his tongue deeper into her vagina.
"Should be enough!" she scolded herself, lying on her side, facing the beautiful hunk of man stretched naked on the satin. "It should satisfy you!"
A low, even breathing was the only response of her bodyguard. He lay reaching close and she reached. The long pendulous penis lay limp in the palm of her hand. He should be shot down, she thought. The man had come only one violent time to their bed play this night. He must be uptight about the trip, she thought.
In the glow of the tiny nightlight his powerful frame seemed relaxed and at the same time quietly coiled for any emergency. But the soft snore that eased from his lips left little doubt that he was out of it.
Deep in her loins a seething yearning began to build. She knew it was wrong but she continued to fondle that outsized pooped penis in her fist. It wasn't just a question of wrong or right. If he had a chemistry for her that told him when she was climaxing, even when he wasn't around, she also had a chemistry for him. She had to touch him.
His head lolled lightly to the side away from her and she felt safe and alone to her mischief, even though there was a full mirror on the wall toward which he had turned. She stretched across his thigh and rested her lips against the sweet swelling of his testicles. So full! Even after orgasm, he still had very loaded balls.
There was a sudden stirring of the limpness, a hint of movement and a thickening of the spongy man flesh. She opened her fingers and it began to stretch. Like a waking giant it thickened and moved over the curve of his testicles, its dark cap still bidden by the white foreskin.
The power in that animal! She stared as the burgeoning column lifted from his thigh and as she watched, the foreskin began to slide back from the pressure of the expanding prick cap. Deep burgundy satin, like the bludgeon point of a white spear now distorted to mushroom shape, seemed to hold the stiffening barrel in its crescent bend. Top heavy, thought an entranced girl. Too big for the shaft to support and the cock's trembling effort to stand straight up wouldn't work this time. The man was too tired. Wrong!
It reared, extended and thickened still more, brushing her fingertips as it soared for the sky. And there it stood upraised, a reaming exclamation point of man's desire, lonely in the night. Unsatisfied!
A whispered snore was almost comic intrusion into the spell the monumental priapus had cast over Pamela. But it was a heavenly message for a passion-whipped girl, controlled by the inflamed phallus. She knew she could finger it to ejaculation. Or she could suck it through discharge as she had done earlier. Or she could turn her back on it and curl into a lonely shell and try to go to sleep. But that wouldn't work this night. She had to risk whatever for this cock in her vagina.
Like a stalking goddess of the hunt, she eased from his side, stretching and twisting with breathless care as she moved astride his thighs. In the low light she saw the reflection of her body in the wall to ceiling mirror beside her bed. Was that ripe succulence Of thrusting breast and wide hip and golden gorgeous flesh to be wasted? Was hers a wanton body because she had to have this magnificent cock? It never could be wanton with Ron ... not the way she felt about him ... she knew she had to try.
What wakened Ronald, he wasn't sure.
All at once he was conscious without being with it. He lay inert and felt the warm wonderful clasp of Pam's thigh's tight against his. He felt the tingling, seductive grab deep in his groin. It was that beautiful feeling of being hard. His mind wouldn't wake. He hoped it never would. He lay motionless, letting her think he was asleep.
Slowly she settled on the blunt knobby cock crown, writhing ever so gently to ease the glans through butter-soft pussy lips into her vagina. Suddenly he was in there! Fully into her! She was riding his phenomenal love organ and he never knew it,
Watching herself in the great mirror, she impaled her lush straining torso on the impaling shaft. The cap met the resistance of her clasping vagina muscles and she slowed to let the cock in at the speed her body wanted. It was like playing with a dildo, she told herself, and not really playing a sneaky trick on Ronald. Couldn't count if he wasn't thrusting and shoving. That's what made intercourse.
But this was so fantastic!
She had taken nearly all the massive barrel and now she was rising to her knees to expose nearly all of it again. In the mirror it was an animal beautiful sight to see the soaked shaft ooze out of her body till the thick crown ledge appeared. Then she settled slowly down on the love spear once again.
Ron fought the need to moan delirium and somehow kept his silence, somehow stilled his frantic body spasms. Just as he knew he was going to come unglued, Pam began to scream, frantically clutching her deliciously jutting breasts as if to contain the rapture, bending deeply back to the impact of her climax.
He shot and shot and shot again-cannonading a rain shower of semen to the firewalls of her cunt. She writhed and arched and spunked out of control, completely forgetting her want to be subtle or gentle. Riding his tumescent barrel, she clawed at herself, then at the indriven cock in end-over-end ecstasy, and she climaxed repeatedly.
Ever so slowly the fever that gripped her quieted. The sweep of three rapid fire orgasms had eased the searing burn for Ron's prick. She disengaged and, wilting to his side, curled close to listen to his breathing and stare at the banana shape of his love organ. Its glisten caught her eye and she lectured herself against the impulse, but lost. When he woke he surely would seethe sparkle of dried residue of their mingled come flow.
Easing gently across the rugged muscles of his thigh, she tongued where semen had puddled in the hollowing between his testicles. Sweet bittersweet tartness!
She traced the glittering evidence around the root of his penis, then stopped in sudden shock. In her eagerness she had forgotten. Both of them had been wearing the Enerjasm recorder! Flush-mounted flesh-soft units that were impossible to distinguish from cockflesh itself, till her tongue touched it.
It would show on the recorder tape!
In the print-out he would see he had registered several digits higher in orgasm intensity than her fellatio had brought on in the man.
Maybe he wouldn't see, but he'd been checking the portable every morning, just for fun to see if their orgasms were more or less potent than the first times.
A fully freshened phallus quivered in lonely splendor in the night as she slipped from the bed and hurried to the vanity table. With practiced expertise, she rewound the tape and returned to record.
Seconds later she was back, hovering over the firebrand of Ron's want, blessing her luck he was still asleep, head angled just as it had been through the whole romp. With love's contempt for his continued sleep, she ovaled soft warm lips around the gleaming glans. Puckering a maddening mouth vise to the tumid cone, she began a leisurely fellatio. An amused, inflamed Ron knew it was time to pretend to wake.
"Lordy ... Pam ... Pamela! WhahhhhH!" He writhed against the mad pleasure riddling from his head to his toes as the moment neared. "Suck, baby ... suck it!"
She was a superb-bodied angel bent in fellatio frenzy to an outlandish prick. A vision of caressable, cock-maddening wanton with the innocence of heaven in her man need. And that was why he felt no dilemma over their copulation.-He hadn't really wakened. It couldn't count since real intercourse had to be two to tango, even though he had unloaded volcanic eruptions of hot spunk directly into her sweet twat. , He watched her fellatio now. He was wide awake and she knew it. She had crept into the valley of his opened thighs and was caressing his balls as she siphoned thirstily to hurry his ejaculation. She loved to suck him from this crouching jackknifed position. It made it easy for his hands to reach her breasts and she loved her brazen beauties fondled, her nipples deviled as she sucked bock.
This time some bizarre overwhelming need seized her as he strummed the animated globes. He felt a tremble ripple through her hips and spread to every point and her urgent siphoning stopped abruptly. Then before his en tranced watching, slowly, uncoiling from the couch, Pamela straightened.
"Now, Ronald DeWitt! NOW!" Never moving from between his legs but writhing and stretching, reaching for empty heights above her head, she was naked voluptuary in a fire of want. "You must take me, Ronnie ... take me!"
An urgent pelvic thrust and a tightening of her impudent buttocks shoved her vee mound directly against a rampaging cock, still dripping with the warm saliva of her sucking. He stared at the perfect positioning. His darkly swollen prick cap was nudged into the curve of her mons veneris, flush against buttersoft pussy slit. She eased slightly downward and he felt the labial lips begin to part, moist and ready for invasion.
"Do me, Ronnie!" she begged, her eyes visibly glazed even in semi-darkness. "See, darling, it's not like we were. doing it. I ... I'm not even helping or anything!"
She threw her head far back and in the half-light tumbling platinum lengths swirled low around her back. "I don't even know you're there. I'm just a lonely girl in my bed ... giving nice feelings to myself."
Indescribably beautiful in solo sensuality, the desperately need-filled girl toyed and stroked. Her lovely arms wove a pattern of self-seduction from point to sizzling point on her glorious body. And all without shifting her enticing sex center from its contact with the thick corona of his phallic crown. One shove and he could be inside that yearning passion tunnel of her cunt
"I love to play with myself," she moaned, face turned toward the ceiling and body arched so that he could only see the tips of her fingers now, dancing across the upraised nipples.
"Love to stroke my breasts and caress my nipples. Such satiny ... oohhhh! ... it feels so good ... all the way down!" Her fingers raced to the wide curve of her hips, then slid over her taut tummy plateau down to the start of her prominent pubic mound. In the low glow of the night light every highlight of her superlative body's hills and valleys seemed to pulse to a compelling sensual electricity.
"Here's where I really love to play."
An eerie otherworldly feel gripped Ron as he drank in the sex possession of Pamela. Head now far back, her legs and body really seemed something apart from the thinking part of her.
"A girl loves to play with herself!" Her fingertips caressed around the perimeter of the quivering prick tip, but only to get past the penis obstruction to the entry to her play pen. "Ooohhh, it is soooo nice in here!"
With pretended ignorance of the presence of that ballooning, ripe penis, she began to masturbate before his eyes. Two urgent fingers splayed wide the labial cleft and held it open almost cruelly while two other fingers strummed a very visible clitty. She was overdeveloped at the trigger point just as he was.
"Oh, dear God, I'm going to make myself come ... come...."
In some wonderful nether world beyond reality, Ron gaped at the fabulous nude. She was straddling his thighs now, where before she had been between them. How she shifted without his knowing he had no idea. Nor any idea who this was as his thoughts swirled in dizzying circles. Was it Dantrelle Svenson? ... Pamela ... somebody? ... or one of the secretaries in that reception room ... or who...?
Whoever it was, she had perfect female contours in the most dramatic places and she had the most pronounced clitty a girl ever had.
In the swirling mingle of real and unreal, mind over matter and desire over everything else, Ron convinced himself. Whoever this girl was didn't matter, for she wasn't involved in what he had to do. No man as flame hard as he was would let a delectable creature like this simply finger herself through a masturbated orgasm while a ready erection was right there.
"Ooohhh ... I'm coming! I'm coming now ... nowwweee!"
She writhed against the torture of her fingers and nearly fell away to her back from the violence of her climax. Ron's hands cupped her ass cheeks at the very last instant. Perfect angle! Now no holding back! He arched against the mattress and drove his phallus deep into her convulsing vagina.
The scream spilled from her lips at the fantastic conversion from a finger stirred orgasm to instant coital climax. One crest became the other and because his cock was only two inches into her vagina when she was already deep into the new orgasm, she drove herself down on the love spike.
Then, impaled well past the halfway point, because she could hold herself up no longer, she wilted to her back and let him take command of her cock speared body.
Ron did.
Clasping her hips to immobilize her slipping from their coital bind, he rocked slowly against her vagina's resistance. Looking across his front all he now could see of his sex partner were sleekly tapered thighs, spread to either side of his, a dark pubic triangle pointing to the meeting of her legs and there, driven between those shapely thighs, his horny prick. Nothing visible beyond her navel so far back was she bent. It could have been anybody he was fucking. For some reason that was a rationale he needed.
"I-uh ... take it ... take it ... yeah!" The rush of semen drove her over the climax brink with him and the moans of his anonymous playmate whispered sensuously around the room.
And then it was done and he was curled back in the position he had been before all the crazy, wonderful play had been started. By whom? Who knew? He'd been asleep the first time. This time ... well, he hadn't ever seen her face as they fucked, so it could have been any one of a million beautiful girls. '
"You're very restless tonight, Ron," Pamela murmured innocently in his ear, her warm body cupped to fit the curve of his back. "Are you dreaming a lot or something?"
"Or something," he muttered, squirming contentedly at their mutual hypocrisy. "Please be quiet. I've got a long trip to make tomorrow."
"Take this with you." Saucy fingers found their way past his hip, across his gut to where the spent cock lay limp on the curve of his upper thigh. For just a brief second the fingers were there, stroking the moisture of their mixed come passion. Then the fingers crept back across his hip.
"Mmmmhhh ... nice!" The sensuous sound of her lips on her fingers was the last he heard as sleep took him.