Chapter 10
Ray was wide awake, staring at the ceiling, when Helen came to bed. She turned on the light, saying, "I skipped the ending of the movie, honey. I wanted to—to—well, you know." Ray was so deep in his thoughts that he had almost completely forgotten the recent pleasure he had known with Helen in bed, and of his having pretended that it was she who was sucking his cock, instead of Marty.
It was Marty who filled his mind now, but he wasn't longing for her body, as he usually did. He was trying to figure a way to rid himself of her. She was becoming too expensive a hobby—and she was just a hobby. Ray knew that now. It had much more to do with Brady, Tom, and perhaps dozens of others, for all he knew, than it did with his newfound delight with his wife. It had to do with his own manhood. He couldn't see himself as a puppet on Marty's string—one of several. She wasn't that good as a fuck. If he concentrated as hard on pleasing and fulfilling Helen, as he had on Marty, Ray was certain that it would pay off in big marital dividends. But there was Marty, big as life, and in a position to destroy all of them.. ..
Helen washed all over and entered the bedroom from the hall, taking off her robe to reveal her naked body. Ray looked at her absently, failing to see the hardened nipples, and the coy smile that she gave him as she climbed in beside him.
She snuggled up to him for a moment, her hand seeming to casually brush his soft cock as she ran it slowly over his body. Ray absently put his arm around her, letting his palm rest over her breast—it was small, but for her shape, it was ample. She began to kiss his throat and then his neck, in her mind fighting back the dread of what she wanted to do—suck his prick until he came in her mouth—and what she knew he had wanted to have her do since they had been married even before.
"Ray—I—I—" Helen began, striving for just the right words to let her husband know that she loved him and at last, she was ready—even eager—to please him with any sexual act he might desire. But Ray sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees. He too was fighting for some words to tell Helen the whole sordid story, to make one earnest effort to maintain his marriage and to rid his household of the slut who silently and unseen, like a termite, threatened to destroy it from within.
"Helen—" Ray hesitated, not looking at her. "I—I've been thinking a lot about what you said about Marty. You were right. She isn't good for us—for either one of us. She's too—I guess, sexy or oversexed. She is bound to get into trouble with men, and that will involve us—hurt you. We've got to somehow get rid of her."
Helen listened, her mouth close to his armpit. She felt her heart beat quicker at the thought that she had finally aroused her husband so much that he was thinking only of her welfare. She remembered last night, and hoped that Ray was remembering.
"It used to bother me," she said dreamily, "Marty, I mean, throwing her crotch around like she does, almost as if she wanted you to—to do something. But since last night, honey, it's different. I'm not afraid of her now. I feel as if I'm free at last—to love you the way you want me to. Can you understand what I'm saying?"
Ray leaned back and kissed her cheek. "Yes, I can. I've felt that same way myself since she came, as if I were in a sort of prison. That's why I want to get her out of our house. She's bad. She could destroy our marriage."
Helen's mouth was demanding, much like Marty's when she turned it on, but Ray's mind was not on sex. Helen mumbled against his chest, "I need you, honey;—-sexually. I want to do what we did last night—only more—put her out of our life for an hour—then we can figure it out somehow, together. Please."
The words grated on Ray's conscience like a rasp. As he turned them over in his mind, he realized that Helen did have the answer. Together, they could wipe this bad stain off their marriage. Together, they could taste the joys that marriage had promised, a long time ago.
Ray turned over and took her in his arms, now aware of her soft curves, of the proudly erect nipples, and the feel of her hair-covered mound of passion that he had taken so little advantage of all these years. Suddenly desire for his wife swept him completely, and Ray bent and shoved his mouth savagely against his wife's breast, his teeth and lips nibbling and sucking, his tongue darting in and out of his mouth, until she gasped in pained pleasure and moved his face to the other side of her chest, so he could give the same pleasurable treatment to her other breast. Her hand slid downward until she found his stiff cock and she began to play with it, running her hand up and down its length, sending thrills up her own body as well as Ray's. He kept on moving downward, his lips and tongue busily touching places on her body that she had heretofore only dreamed he might, working her into a lather of desire to taste his own flesh.
Somehow they managed to reverse their positions so that his mouth was pressed to her cunt, and his rigid, throbbing prick was close to her mouth. She grabbed it in her hand and took it in her mouth, hungry for the taste and the feel of it. She was so engrossed in her own acts, so filled with desire to please him, to feel his hot semen come shooting into her mouth that she was only vaguely aware of the wild sensations he was sending through her being with his own mouth, his tongue, teeth, and lips.
She felt a closeness to this man who was her husband, as his cock went deeper and deeper inside her mouth, that she had never dreamed she could feel for any man. She sublimated her own desires for orgasm under his touch to her need to fulfill him.
Ray was in a strange daze as his tongue flicked in and out of his wife's cunt for the first time. He felt ashamed as he realized all he had held back from her, all the furious passion that he had wasted on Marty. He wanted to make it all up to her, and he went about licking and sucking her cunt as if he could do it all in one night. He forgot that she was .taking his prick deep into her mouth at that moment, something he had longed for until it ate at his guts. All Ray wanted to do was to let Helen know that he loved her as a woman, sexually, wildly, hurt-fully, but always and always, as a man loves a desirable woman.
They writhed and rolled in their efforts to take all of the other's flesh in their mouths that was possible. Ray wallowed in the dank, womanly smell of her cunt, and at spaced intervals he let his tongue roam from her vagina to sweep upward and wash her asshole with its loving touch. He felt her response, and as they both neared a climax they became aware of the other's touch and eased off the animalistic fury of their passion, both trying to put the softness of love into their sexual actions.
When Ray let himself go, shooting a huge mass of semen into Helen's throat, he immediately wondered if she would be nauseated by it, or gag and throw up. And as he buried his mouth deeper into her cunt, his fingers touching the inside of her, while his tongue massaged her clitoris with the touch of love, she wondered about her feminine hygiene. Did she give off an offensive odor from her genitals? Was his nose close to her asshole, inhaling the smell of shit that hadn't been wiped away carefully enough? Strange thoughts, Helen mused, but then, the thoughts of a woman in love so deeply that she was at last able to face the truth.
So wrapped up in each other were they that neither were aware that they were making loud, harsh, hungry noises. Nor were they aware that those noises had been heard and recognized for what they were by Marty, whose door had been open for a long time. Nor were they aware that she was standing outside their open door, listening to their words, hating the sounds of their lovemaking, seething as she felt their bodies melt into each other's.
She stood there, occasionally sneaking a glimpse inside, despite the hurt it was giving her. She was losing Ray! She had failed. She was a nothing. She had lost her hold on Brady, and now, she was losing Ray, to this thirty-six-year-old frump he had married. She was a witch, using magic powers on him. It just wasn't possible that Ray, her lover, would prefer Helen to her—it was a dream!
But it wasn't a dream. It was happening. Their moans of ecstasy proved the depths of their passion. Marty knew the sound that was coming from Ray only too well. It couldn't be faked or disguised.
She listened as they changed position, after each had brought the other to a climax with their mouths. She heard Helen mouthing her love for her husband, and Ray telling her of his. She heard the sounds of their kisses, and after he had inserted his cock inside her cunt, while she moaned and puffed her delight, she heard their bodies, wet with sweat, slamming against each other as Ray plunged his cock into her, and she cringed against the wall as their moans of love mingled with the sounds of sex being performed by two passionate people.
She looked at the faint glitter of the slave bracelet she held in her hand, the faint light from the far window sending tiny droplets of golden light from it that, to her, seemed like tears flying into space.
She couldn't tear herself from the spot until the last gasp's of joy had come from the pair on the bed, and they lay back, reveling in the afterglow of love that has been fulfilled. She wanted to go back to her room, but she couldn't. She was riveted to the spot as she heard Ray's voice say calmly, "Helen, honey, we've got to get Marty out of this house, and soon."
"Oh, Ray," she heard Helen say quickly, "Maybe I've been too hard on her. After all, she is just a little girl. She's bewildered, she's lost her mother—maybe it's been our fault she's so—so wild. And maybe she hasn't really been wild," Helen rushed on in Marty's defense. "Maybe we've been imagining things."
"No!" Ray replied sharply, "we haven't been imagining things. She's been using her body to get things from men, and I know this to be a fact. She has made a play for Tom, and if I hadn't warned him, she'd have wrecked his life. You remember the night—"
He broke off and as if from a great distance, Marty heard Helen say, "Yes, but—"
"No buts! She's a menace. She's sex mad! I heard that she has been tangled up with some teacher at school, and though I can't actually prove it, I think there are others. You know about that collection of hers—that was just a reminder to her of all the men she had seduced and conned out of trinkets to put on that bracelet. Before she causes tragedy, she's got to go."
His voice was firm, and Helen knew that it would be useless to argue further. In the hall, outside their door, Marty was half sobbing, half furious. She had been betrayed completely by Ray. Not only was he planning to get rid of her, but he had turned completely to his wife for sex kicks. But the first mood passed quickly and, as she listened to them talk of ways to ship her to some state institution, hurt was replaced by anger and embarrassment gave way to determination. She would show Ray—and Helen. Marty Wells wasn't through yet. She still had some top cards to play!
She went back to her room after she heard their conversation end with a tender exchange of words and, a few moments later, she heard Ray's soft snores and Helen's deep, rhythmic breathing.
She put the light on after closing the door, and held the ankle bracelet in her hand, studying the initials engraved on it, her mouth a hard line. She took the photo from her drawer and stared at it. She wondered what Helen would have to say about that! The look of pure lust on their faces was irrefutable evidence that she and Ray were completely satisfied with each other. She looked at the picture with contempt, envisioning how she could make Ray come crawling and whining, if she threatened to show it to Helen—or to his friends.
She was still the boss, and she would upset their little plan to dump her. She didn't know how, but she would. As she fell into a fitful sleep, Marty's thoughts were filled with Ray's face, and he was crawling on his knees, begging her to let him kiss her pussy, huge tears were streaming down his face. In her fantasy, Marty reached out and laughingly wiped her fingers over his cheek, her fingers becoming wet with his tears. She awakened, sobbing, to find that the wetness on her hands was her own tears, and she lay there, staring into the night, wondering why she still loved a man who was planning her downfall.
The house was filled with pretended sweetness the next morning. Helen was exceedingly gentle with her niece, trying hard to conceal the pity that she couldn't help but feel for her. Ray had left for work, and no further discussion had arisen concerning Marty's status. As Helen covertly looked at her niece, she noted the circles under her eyes, and she was filled with sympathy for the girl. Helen recalled her own early teen years, when the juices of sexual growth had made strange demands on her body. She remembered the suppressed feeling that she had undergone while going with Ray—the wanting to take that last step to full intercourse, and the deeply rooted mores that had been instilled in her by her puritanical parents—the heavy guilt feelings that had restricted her freedom to love for all these years—until only two nights ago, in fact.
Marty seemed listless as she pecked at her breakfast, and Helen tried to cheer her by saying, "I'm going shopping this afternoon, Marty. Can I get you anything—cosmetics, some underwear?" Marty shot a quick glance at her, for the overuse of cosmetics had been a sore point with Helen since Marty had arrived. Marty thought bitterly that Helen must believe that she could afford to be generous, now that she had won the battle for Ray. Well, she had another think coming. Marty wasn't defeated, nor was she even thinking in terms of total defeat.
A half-sleepless night had convinced her of one thing: regardless of what Ray was planning, Marty was truly in love with him, and she had no intention of giving up without a furious fight. In a mental double take, Marty remembered an hour later that Helen had said she was going shopping that afternoon. That meant that there would be an opportunity to see Ray, if only for a few moments, and that would be enough, Marty knew. Once Ray saw and touched her naked body again, he would quickly forget all about Helen, and her new sexual freedom.
She called Ray during a break between classes, and when he answered the phone, Marty detected a testiness in his voice when he discovered it was her.
"I have to see you, Ray," Marty said imperiously. "Helen's going shopping this afternoon. I want to meet you at the house at two o'clock. It's important."
Ray replied sharply, "Look, I've got a business to take care of. And besides, this has got to stop—this thing between us. I've decided—"
"And I've decided, too!" Marty interrupted, the sharpness in her voice matching that of his. "I said I want to see you. You'd better be there. Two, sharp!" She slammed the phone back onto the hook and stood scowling at it. She wondered what she really would do if Ray didn't show up. Would she have the guts to show Helen the picture and explain the story of the slave bracelet? Marty had no doubts as to what Helen would do, if she found out.
She was nervous until the bell rang at fifteen minutes before two, and she hastily piled her books in her locker and headed for home at a rapid walk. When she arrived, she didn't see Ray's car, but she knew that he might have parked it some distance away, so the neighbors wouldn't know that he was home in the middle of the day. Marty entered the house, using her key, and found Ray waiting for her, looking angry. When she walked into the kitchen, he was tapping his fingers nervously on the table. He shot a baleful glance at her and snapped, "What's this all about? You sounded pretty snotty on the phone."
Marty looked coldly at him. "You know what it's about. To save you some lies, I'll tell you that I was outside your bedroom door, in the hall, last night, while you were making such mad, passionate love to Helen. And I also overheard some other juicy gossip that you gave her about me."
Ray looked like he would explode. He turned first red, then white, as rage gathered within him. She was going to try to use the photo and the bracelet to beat him into submission again. Well, he resolved, it wouldn't work. He had already risked enough, just for a crack at her young body. He gazed at her, eying her from head to foot, noticing the slave bracelet attached to her ankle. It made him even more cold inside, as he mentally compared her slim young shape with that of the more mature form of his wife. He wondered vaguely whether it would have deterred him from his affair with Marty, had Helen mellowed sooner, and excited him as she now did. He dismissed the idea, thinking that Marty was Marty, and if she had set her cap for him, she would have managed it some way.
"Then you know how I feel about you," Ray said.
"You don't know how you feel about me," Marty came back, beginning to unbutton her sweater. "The only time you really can trust your feelings is when you've got that big cock inside my mouth or my cunt. Then, it's the real man who is thinking."
She peeled off the sweater, and Ray could not keep his eyes from the round, white mounds of flesh that she boldly thrust at him. The soft pink of her nipples caused a ripple of desire to run through his loins, and he felt as if he wanted to run, for he wasn't sure that he could withstand the sight of her naked body, that had brought him so much pleasure, in spite of Helen and his decision to get rid of Marty.
She was stepping out of her skirt, then she peeled off her filmy panties, and stood there nude, except for the gently gleaming ankle bracelet she wore. There was a hard look in her eyes as she watched Ray's eyes being drawn to her crotch and her slim, girlish legs. She could almost see the battle going on within him.
"Now—" Marty said, posing with her breasts jutted out, her hands on her hips so that her pelvis was shoved out invitingly, "—do you still want to get rid of me? You know damned well that whatever Helen can offer, I can double."
Ray stared at the partially opened cunt lips, seeing the gleaming wetness of the pink interior. He could almost feel his cock sliding into that inviting gateway to love, and he squirmed in his chair as he felt his prick growing hard. He tried to replace the reality of Marty with the remembrance of Helen's body, but it didn't work. Marty was too close, too real and inviting. She had gone too deep into his blood to allow him to merely discard her now, like a pair of old shoes.
Ray was sweating as he rose. Little droplets of perspiration dotted his upper lip and his temples as he went over to her, his hands reaching out almost without his mind directing them, to caress the softness of her.
He enfolded her in his arms and their mouths met, and in one second, all his strength and resolve melted into the juncture of their bodies. His hands went down to caress one rounded asscheek, and the other found her hot pussy and began to rub it hard, one finger darting in and touching her love nub, causing her to draw even closer to him and to suck his tongue deep into her mouth.
"Oh, Ray, Ray," Marty mumbled through the kiss, "I can't give you up. I love you, I love you. I need you so badly—now!"
Ray was rubbing his stiffening prick against the pubic hairs of her cunt, almost ready to explode with need for her while a battle raged inside him. He hated her, but he wanted her body so badly that nothing else seemed to matter at the moment. He swept her into his arms and carried her into his bedroom, placing her naked form on the neatly made bed. With trembling hands, he peeled off his clothes, his eyes riveted on her parted legs and wide-open pussy.
Marty lay watching him, her hands caressing her breasts, shoving the nipples up and out, tormenting him and making him pant with his need for her. He looked at her hazy eyes, wondering how he could want her so much, yet detest her as he did.
Naked, he moved toward her, his cock bobbing up and down as he moved. He crawled onto the bed on his hands and knees, and she reached out and grabbed his head, pulling his face down to her parted pussy lips. He could smell the sweet woman smell of her vagina, and it aroused him to a fever pitch. He willingly locked his mouth to her cunt, his tongue going in quickly, seeking out the hard nub of her clitoris, caressing it, sucking it, nibbling at it with his teeth.
She lay staring at the ceiling, her hand on his head, guiding his tongue strokes. Her mouth was curled into a tight little smile of triumph, and her eyes were pools of lust as Ray let his weight down and put one hand under her, so he could caress her asshole with one hand, while he ran the other over her cunt, then dug his fingers in deep.
Marty was gasping with joy, but there was a new element now. She had won! Ray was hers—he would always be hers alone. He was truly her slave, and his name would .always belong on the bracelet she wore that signified her ownership of him and his domination of her body.
She forgot all about her motives, all about Helen and the plot to dump her, in the hot, overwhelming lust that swept over her as Ray brought her to a fever pitch with his tongue and probing hands.
Ray, too, could only find room in his thoughts for this delicious young body that was his alone for the taking. Helen was forgotten, as she had been for so long, and his tongue and his fingers were touching the only person who mattered in the whole world. To hell with tomorrow, or even the hours ahead—they were here, loving, exciting each other, doing what they were made to do—what both needed and wanted more than anything on earth.
As he felt her clitoris twitch rapidly as she moaned in orgasm, Ray became like a hungry animal. His finger dug in and out of her asshole while his other hand clawed at the inside of her cunt, as if he wanted to pull huge pieces of it out and devour it. His tongue held a strong pressure on her throbbing knob, and, as she relaxed after her come, Ray lost all reserve and began to bite savagely at her clit. Marty reacted in kind, bucking, sobbing, moaning, but shoving her pelvis up high, arching her back so he could go even deeper into her.
When he could stand it no longer, Ray rolled her over on her face, spread her ass-cheeks and began to ream out her asshole with his tongue. His hands were busy probing underneath her, digging into her cunt, massaging the clitoris, clawing at the inner walls, driving her to a gasping, sobbing hill top of desire.
"Fuck me, Ray, darling—" Marty moaned. "Up the ass—any way—just put it into me—please, please!"
Ray raised up and crawled up on her body as she got to her knees, resting her top torso on her elbows. Marty peered down between her widespread legs, watching Ray as he moved close to her, his cock in his hand, his movements jerky and uncertain with his desire. She felt his burning cock enter her asshole, and a moment later, as it penetrated deep and she moved her buttocks to allow it to go even deeper, she felt Ray's hand go underneath her and his fingers found her clitoris and began to rub it and dig his nails into it hungrily.
They were in a haze of lust, unaware of anything that was taking place in the world outside their bodies, when Helen walked into her bedroom and stared in disbelief at the rutting pair! She couldn't believe that her husband was on their own bed, with his hard prick shoved deeply into the asshole of his niece! They were like animals without conscience or decency. All they knew was the lust for one another that animals felt! This was Ray—the man she loved and married, and to whom she had given all she had to give. And he was committing incest with his own niece!
Then she fainted dead away, falling to the floor with a heavy thud that the pair on the bed did not even notice. Their faces were turned away from the door, and their own moans and heavy breathing drowned out any sound she had made. As they approached climax, Helen stirred slightly and moaned, but they did not hear her. Marty and Ray were too involved in satisfying their bodily lusts to have cared or even halted, had they known she was on the floor.
Nor did either of them know that a shadow had followed Helen into the bedroom, and now lurked in the corner, awaiting the precise moment to strike at three lives.