Chapter 2
A sheen of perspiration having dampened her body from head to toe, Delia gasped and hunched her hips with reckless abandonment. A humid August breeze fanned through the car window, doing nothing to cool her white undulating form. She didn't care. She was out of it, she was suspended on cloud nine and she didn't care what happened. Horace had her electrified. His face was buried deep in her cunt and his tongue, just rough enough to tantalize, licked her clit furiously. Each stroke filled her with ecstasy.
"Oooo, you do it so good," she kept hissing between sighs. "You're marvelous, Horace, marvelous. Ooooo."
Her slim fingers gripped his bushy hair, her nails flexed and dug at his scalp. Her nerves sang, and every inch of her flesh lived in erotic glory. She felt like screaming her joy.
It was hectic, the way they were doing it. The small space between the car seat and instrument panel didn't provide enough room. Yet lust will not be denied, and Horace, turned animal in his wild eagerness for her body, had squatted low on the floorboard with his knees doubled under him. With her legs scissoring his head and her upper torso crowded against the far corner of the seat, they managed the frantic interlude. Beneath her, Horace gripped her asscheeks tightly, his strong fingers digging and squeezing her resilient flesh. The digging and squeezing brought pain, but it was delicious pain, adding much to her excitement.
Regardless of the close quarters, Delia managed to grind and hunch her perspiring form in response to the fantastic tongue which was making her heart flutter, race and pound against her ribs. The ecstasy was all-consuming, even down to her dainty toes. Her small feet made rapid, impulsive kicks in the center of Horace's back, her heels making little thudding sounds when the feelings grew too exquisite to bear.
The ecstasy climbed from her twitching toes up her calves and thighs to her pussy where Horace was gustily sucking and licking, then on up her shimmering belly to her tits. Her up-tilted, cantaloupe-shaped breasts ached. Her nipples felt bursting.
Delia untangled one hand from Horace's head, brought it to her tits. She squeezed and tortured the firm mounds, pinched the nipples, stroked them roughly. The inflamed and swollen buds quivered. Delia's eyes rolled upward in divine sensation. Her mouth hung open wantonly. Her tongue made moist, circuitous trips about her full lips.
"Oooo," she purred shakily. "Ooo . . . I think I'm going to cum."
She tightened up all over and forgot to breathe. The orgasm started slow, somewhere in her shapely calves. It climbed in growing shudders up her entranced, quivering form. Then it hit like a cyclone, splitting her mind, leaving her senseless and aware only of blissful shock-waves pulsating through her flesh. She cried a cat-call of pure lust.
"Ahhhhh . . . Ahhhhh . . . Ohhhhh . . . Ahhhhh!"
Her body snapped loose of the hypnotic spell suddenly, springing once more to action, a race against breathless time. She gripped Horace's hair with both hands again, throwing her ass in rapid hunches against his face, her swollen pus-sylips engulfing his heated features. His strong fingers bit deeper in her flying buttocks, shooting sparks of hurt through her, making her sing out more cries of lust
She jerked and bucked mindlessly, ruthlessly, as the orgasm continued. Horace's face, frozen in lust, large eyes bugged and bright, became a mere object for her to fuck. She whipped her cunt up and down against his wide open mouth and protruding tongue. His expression was a mask of craven submission. The sight, and the additional sense of power it brought her, triggered the culmination of her climax. She threw back her head and shrieked one last time.
Delia heaved a sigh of relief and settled back to earth, her body trembling down by degrees. She lay quietly while Horace licked her juices. He moaned as though her honeyed cum paralyzed his brain. She stroked his forehead while he licked and sucked. This was so nice, this aftermath attention. She smiled contentedly and watched him wallowing in her cunt, her hands playing at his ears and burning cheeks.
She quivered deliciously. Let him keep it up, she mused, and she'd soon be ready again. One thing she was sure of, she never tired of having her pussy eaten. It was one of her favorite pastimes. She felt she could thrive on it forever.
Well, she thought while her nerves glowed pleasantly, she had definitely brought Mr. Horace Hayden down to size. She'd turned him to mincemeat sexually. Her tempting efforts in the office had finally paid off. His attitude toward her would be much better now, and her work easier. As a matter-of-fact, she might even come out of all this with a nice raise in salary. She smiled at the thought
Horace's mouth and tongue worked continuously as her hands played over his face, brushed over his bulging eyes, worried his ears and dug lightly at his scalp. Horace groaned and feasted, hopelessly lost in his desires. His eyes roamed her moon-silvered body while he cravingly licked her cunt. He was obviously stoned on beauty and the flavor of her flesh. Delia tingled at the knowledge. She had him where she wanted him. She had him enslaved.
Delia wondered if Horace intended eating her pussy all night long. Pleasant thought! She certainly wouldn't mind. She loved the way he did it loved it, loved it, loved it. Yes, it'd be nice to spend hours on end thrilling to one orgasm after another. Yes, she'd settle for that She'd have a blast
But suddenly he stopped. He tore his mouth from her pussy, ground it in the pit of her belly, worked upward toward her swollen tits. He sucked them in his mouth and chewed her sensitive nipples. She felt them flare and pulsate between his teeth. Her hands pushed against him in trembling protest
"Not so hard," she cautioned. "Don't bite them off."
He broke loose, panting loudly, "It's your time to do me. My cock's so hard it's busting."
"Do what? Do you how?"
"Suck my cock, what else? I sucked you." She felt herself tighten. "No. I don't want to."
He looked angry. "What the hell, what is this? I eat you and you eat me. Fair is fair." The change in his attitude surprised her. Maybe she didn't have him so enslaved as she'd imagined.
She shook her head vehemently. "No thank you. The very idea gags me."
"That's tough." He opened the car door and started getting out.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm going to strip. We're going to get with it.
She stared at him in the moonlight. She didn't know what to say. He commenced taking off his clothes. He tossed each item past her into the rear of the car.
Delia grew worried. "Don't be a fool, Horace. If the police come along and catch us both naked we'll be in real trouble."
"Hell with it," he growled. "I'm too steamed up.
"Let's go somewhere else, where it'll be safer."
"Never happen." He sounded determined. He was breathing hard, his eyes never leaving her. "God, you're beautiful, Delia. You look like a silvery queen. I never saw such a body."
"I'd look just as good in a safe bed. Please, put your trousers on and drive us somewhere else. We can go to my apartment . . . anyplace but here. I'm frightened. I'd hate to be dragged to jail, naked like this. We'd both feel like idiots."
"All I feel is my hard cock throbbing. And I can't wait another minute to get my rocks off. So stop arguing. You're wasting your breath."
"You're still drunk. You don't realize how serious this is. Horace, for heaven's sake, use your head!"
"I already have-on you. You didn't complain then. You did everything you could to keep me eating you. You got yours. And now you want to call it quits without letting me get mine. I say that's being selfish."
He climbed back in the car, his big body surprisingly hairy in his nakedness. His cock stood out straight and hard. She had quickly moved to the far side of the seat, under the steering wheel. He sat leaning toward her, his eyes shining hot.
"Don't be difficult, Delia. Come on. give me the blow-job of my life. You owe it to me."
"No! You must be insane!"
"I blew you. You enjoyed yourself, I could tell. So why won't you do the same for me?"
"I don't make bargains. That kind at least. You're being absurd."
"You mean you don't suck cocks?"
"Do you have to sound so gross!" she flared.
"I can't imagine what's happened to you, Horace. You never talked like this in the office. And certainly never acted this way. I'm flabbergasted, really! You're so changed! So different!"
"Hell," he said, "you'd bring out the worst in anybody."
"You've had too much to drink. It can't be anything else."
Horace edged closer to her. "Are you going to suck my cock or not?"
"No! Leave me alone!"
"I thought you liked me."
"I do, but not that much," she said testily.
"Are you trying to tell me you're particular about whose cock you suck? Is that it?"
"Well, yes, if you must know."
"But not particular about who eats you, right?"
"Listen, Horace. I didn't want you to park the car and start anything. It wasn't my idea, it was yours. All I wanted was to be driven home. I've begged you to be sensible. You refuse. Now, for the umpteenth time, will you please sober up and take me home. I mean it, Horace. I want to go!"
"And I want my cock sucked, Delia." He put his left hand behind her neck, tried to pull her head down on his cock. She resisted. She could see his cock. It had a huge head and she imagined she saw it throbbing and pulsating in the moonlight. She shuddered and attempted to pull away.
"Oh, come on, it won't kill you, honey. Be a good girl and suck my prick. Give me the blow-job of my life. You can do it, I know you can."
"You must be out of your mind!" She struggled harder as he pulled her head nearer his prick. He ran his hand up the nape of her neck, grasped a handful of her hair and tightened his fingers in it. He twisted his hand and the pain brought instant tears to her eyes. "Don't . . . don't. . . Horace, you're hurting me!"
"And you're hurting me, Delia, whether you realize it or not My prick is aching, actually hurting. The only thing that'll cure it is a good, old-fashioned blow-job. I'm not leaving here without it."
Tears ran down her cheeks. She was shocked to learn that he was so brutal. She'd never pictured him as the kind of man who would force a girl. She supposed it was the alcohol. It changed some people from mice to monsters. Apparently it had such an effect on Horace. He was actually turning beast
Delia whimpered as he forced her face toward his waiting prick. "No . . . I can't. . . leant!"
"Hell you can't honey. It's easy. All you have to do is open your sweet lips and let it slide between your teeth. Then all you do is suck, like on an all-day sucker."
"I won't! I couldn't stand it!"
"You rather I yank out a patch of your hair? You want a bald patch in the middle of your head? That's what's going to happen if you don't stop fighting and start sucking."
Delia shuddered. It wasn't that she had anything against sucking a man's cock, but she had a hang-up about being forced. She didn't like being pressured into anything. It went against her grain. She had always been one to pick and choose her sex partners. On top of that, the circumstances had to be right. She felt she needed to think an awful lot of a man to want to suck his prick. And she definitely didn't care enough for Horace Hayden to suck his.
She began to realize, however, that Horace meant business in his threat He'd turned just drunk enough and mean enough to carry out his threat.
Delia decided the only way she would ever get out of this mess was to give him what he wanted. She didn't wish to end up minus a handful of hair. She'd look like hell.
"All right, Horace-all right! But stop hurting me!"
He eased the hair-twisting. "Get with it, then. Get on it, baby. Do me up right"
Delia took a deep breath. Slowly, miserably, she bent over. She took hold of his large cock, felt it flare the instant she touched it. It overflowed the palm of her hand. She lowered her mouth to the straining knob, ran her tongue around it. Horace's excitement leaped. His entire body twitched and he gasped his eagerness. "Get it, baby! Get it, get it, suck it, get it!"
Delia dampened her lips with her tongue. She took the throbbing prick in her mouth, tasting the strong, salty flavor of his maleness. Horace moaned and gyrated his hips as she slowly eased her mouth down the length of his cock, licking and wetting it, then working her way back up to the big, mushroomed knob. By now the pungent taste had disappeared, and she couldn't honestly say that sucking his cock was as disagreeable as she'd imagined it would be. As a matter-of-fact, some perverse element in the situation gave her a small sense of excitement. If she wished, she knew, she could drive him up the wall with pleasure. She'd been told she was quite expert at it.
It depended on the circumstances, of course. If a particular man appealed to her, she enjoyed sucking his cock and would suck him blue in the face if he wished her to. It thrilled her to know she could please a man so much. Actually, it gave her a sense of power. When she was sucking a man's cock he was rendered helpless, completely at her mercy. She liked the idea. In a deviate way, it turned her on. It was nice to know she could make a man scream in agonized pleasure. It did much for her ego.
But with Horace Hayden she had mixed emotions. She felt no special appeal from him and didn't like the manner in which he treated her. If anything, she felt more vindictive toward him. He was manhandling her, forcing her. And this she didn't appreciate, no, not in the least.
Horace's big body quaked its entire length as she flicked her tongue over his sensitive knob, then licked the area just beneath the quivering flanges. "Ohhhhh," he moaned. "Ohhhh . . . "
Filling her mouth with saliva, she swirled her tongue all around his prick while moving her head up and down. She felt shudders race through his body. He whimpered and groaned. His feet kicked up and down on the floorboard of the car.
"Oh God, it's good! Oh God--! "
Delia turned her mouth into a vacuum pump. She sucked the dancing prick as far down her throat as she possibly could. Horace started writhing, bucking, squirming. He renewed his grip in her hair. His hips pumped up and down recklessly, fucking her mouth as though he were fucking her pussy. His cock rammed the rear of her throat. He seemed to be trying to shove the pulsating cockhead past her throat and into her belly. He made a horrible moan.
"Aaahhh . . . suck . . . keep sucking . . . . . . oooohhh . . . "
He held her head firmly and shot his load. The plunging knob struck the roof of her mouth, slapped against her tongue, raked her teeth in the fury of his crazed passion. His sperm suddenly splashed against her palate, filling her throat and flooding the insides of her cheeks. He strained and bucked. He held her head so she couldn't escape. He kept pumping and issuing agonized wails of ecstasy.
Delia knew she'd have to swallow or she'd surely gag. She swallowed his cum and then, somewhat turned on herself, she continued sucking until his prick began to wilt. Horace shook bodily and his gasps began to diminish. Finally, he sighed.
"Hold it, honey. That's it. I'm drained."
But Delia didn't cease sucking the dying prick. Surprisingly aroused now, she found herself in a dazed state of erotic yearnings. She loved sucking the cock, pulling every last drop from it. She didn't care now whose prick it was, it was anybody's prick, and she adored it. She wanted to suck it and feel it growing hard again. She wanted it stiff and quivering hard once more, plunging up and down in her hungry mouth and straining with muscled life. So she kept tonguing and sucking.
"Hey, hold it! Wait a minute!" Horace yelped. "That's enough! Can't take anymore.
I've had it, Delia. You're sucking my guts out!"
She paid no attention. Then she felt her head jerked roughly up off his cock. He still had her hair gripped in his fingers. The pain snapped her back to reality. She blinked tears from her eyes.
Tou don't have to pull so hard," she complained. He released her hair. She sat up on the seat and pushed the damp blonde strands from her face.
"Damn, you're really something, Delia. It's hell to get you started and hell to get you stopped. You had me jumping out of my skin. Sorry if I hurt you but I couldn't help it."
"Take me home, Horace. You've got what you wanted."
"Not yet I haven't. Not quite yet."
"What do you mean? I thought-well you said-"
"That I was finished? Unh unh, sugar. I just need a breather, that's all. Me eating you and you eating me are just the preliminaries. I haven't fucked you yet. Hell, if we don't end up fucking the whole evening will be a flop."
"I don't want to fuck, Horace. I just want to go home and forget this miserable experience."
"Not on your sweet life! I've been dreaming too long of having you like this, and now that it's happened I'm going to take my fill. I'll probably never get another chance."
"You're right about that," Delia said contemptuously. "No, you never will. I hate your guts. I despise you."
"Tough," Horace said. "Sorry about that"