Chapter 5
It was a restless evening for Ray, filled with the anticipation of finishing what Marty had started in his car on the way to Tom's. Ray felt no qualms now, about going all the way with his niece. She was wide-open cunt, as far as he was concerned. The thought or word, "incest," never even crossed his mind. A screw was a screw, a willing cunt had no surname or blood ties, in Ray's thinking.
His only cloudy thought stemmed from the thoughts of what might happen if Helen caught on. Ray didn't exactly love Helen in the same uncontrolled, demanding way that he had when they were dating, and now, he realized that it was her very unavailability—her unwillingness to engage in any sex play or act, that had supplied the spurt to his emotions. He had, in fact, married her to prove to her that he was going to break her cherry, and moreover, he was going to turn her into a full, warm, sexy woman. But it had never worked out that way. Helen was too hung up on Victorian sex taboos to ever change. She had been a good wife—until Marty came along. Nothing special in bed, but at least, an outlet for his sex needs.
Ray had never deliberately gone out looking for a strange piece of ass, but there had been times when he had wanted and needed a variety of sex positions and acts, when he had made trips to motels with some of the local whores and bar pickups. Now, Marty was in his home, promising to give him all the sexual fulfillment he had ever wanted, using any position, with no act taboo.
He was justified in taking advantage of the chance, he felt. Why not? Everybody else seemed to be doing it. It would be different if Helen were exciting, or daring enough to try something new and different in bed.
But Ray was figuring without the insatiable sexual appetite of Marty Wells, and he completely ignored the fact that Tom, his employee, was in the same boat that he was. If he would have remembered, he'd have known that Tom had dropped many hints during idle "man talk," that warned his home sex life had grown boring as hell, and that he too was on the prowl. Had Ray thought it through, he'd have seen that putting the young sexpot in a position of proximity to Tom, was like putting a spluttering, live, fast-burning fuse next to an open powder keg.
But Ray was too engrossed in his own thoughts about his coming sex sessions to care about anyone else. This little sex machine had been tormenting him for weeks, and he wasn't about to wait any longer, no matter what the consequences were for him or for her.
Meantime, Tom's wheels had been spinning rapidly, and he had seen the wide-open challenge in Marty's look, when he was talking about what she could and couldn't do around the modest house, concerning the kids, what to eat, no boyfriends, and so on. His wife always left that part up to him because she was usually running fifteen minutes late for any engagement, due to excessive preening before her mirror. Even though they were only going to a movie, where no one would see her, like tonight, she had to go out as a fashion plate.
Tom didn't miss the way Marty had looked him up and down as if appraising his virility. What he didn't know was that she was appraising him, but not his manhood; she was assessing him for what she could wrest from him, once she had him hooked. And she had no doubts that he would be an easy mark. She could tell by the way he eyed her breasts and fanny, and the reddening of his face when she caught his eyes locked on her body.
Just to make sure, Marty dropped a couple of innuendo's.
She instinctively seemed to know the weak and vain spots in him—one of which was his bald head. Tom had been bald since he was in his late twenties, and it had caused him to let the rest of his body go to fat. Once a fine athlete, he was now tubby, but still a fairly good-looking man, when he dressed well and turned on his charm.
"You look awfully young to be so bald," Marty observed candidly.
"Yeh—" Tom said in minor embarrassment. "Been that way for years."
"I've heard that bald-headed men are extra sexy," Marty giggled, challenging him with her stare.
"I—I don't know," Tom stammered, "but I guess I can hold my own."
"I wonder?" She let it hang in the air, like a fisherman's lure. She knew he would bite. If not tonight, then soon.
Tom reddened and glanced at the bedroom door. "Well, uh, I guess we'll be going pretty quick. You'll be able to handle things, won't you?"
Marty stared into his eyes and said levelly, "I can handle anything."
When Mary appeared a few seconds later, Tom had still not found the courage to pick up the gauntlet she had tossed at his feet. With a few more instructions, the couple left, but not before Marty had again managed to get in a thrusting look and a provocative smile.
Tom paid no attention to the movie. He was wracking his brains as to how he could make an early evening of it, so he could drive Marty home. She had disturbed him like no woman had for years. He was positive he hadn't misread her implications. She was ripe for plucking, and he had been ready for strange stuff for years.
When the first picture of the double feature ended, Tom urged Mary to leave with him and skip the second feature. He said he had a bad headache, and that his eyes were bothering him. After a few protests, Mary agreed. Thus, almost two hours earlier than they had planned, they returned home. When they let themselves in, Marty was watching TV. The children were in bed and asleep, and although Marty evinced some surprise for Mary's benefit, she exchanged a glance with Tom which said clearly, "Good man. I knew you would figure something out!"
She got her sweater and Mary stood eying her abbreviated skirt that revealed shapely thighs and just a hint of the curve of her ass-cheeks. It flashed across her mind that Helen was a fool, allowing a blatant sexpot like her to pretty much do as she pleased—especially with a good-looking husband like Ray around.
She even offered to drive Marty home, pointing out that Tom had a headache, but he quickly maintained that he would be fine. He even asked Mary if she thought it fair to pay Marty for the full four hours that they had agreed to in the beginning, and Mary agreed. After they had left, she stood looking at the door they had closed, wondering if her husband was still susceptible to a green, young thing like Marty. She dismissed the thought, remembering how disinterested Tom had been in sex for many months now.
In the car, Tom smiled over at Marty. She sat with her miniskirt pulled high, legs slightly apart, so that he could catch a glimpse of her panties. Once out of Mary's sight, Tom regained the nerve he had been building carefully, all evening long.
"Want to go right home?" he asked, trying to sound innocent.
"What did you have in mind?" Marty asked indolently, her black eyes probing his expression in the dimness.
"Oh—" Tom shrugged, "Maybe a hamburger—something like that."
Marty lowered her eyelids provocatively. "Is that what you really want?"
He glanced quickly at her to see if she were putting him on, but he knew by her tone that she wasn't. She was looking straight at him now, a mocking smile curving her pert mouth. He decided to take the bull by the horns.
"Well, no," he said, clearing his throat. "I ... I sort of thought we could ... take a ride."
Marty laughed softly. "I guess you did get the message, after all," she said.
Encouraged, Tom grinned boyishly at her as he turned onto a road that led out into a secluded area. Marty's eyes were on the ring on his right hand, an expensive-looking fire opal. She was already envisioning how it would look on her bracelet, or among her mementos.
"That's a beautiful ring," she ventured.
"Yeah. Birthday present from Mary. I've had it a long time."
"Could I have it?" Marty made it sound like a demand rather than a question.
"Well, I ... don't know ..." Tom said lamely.
"Because, if I can't," Marty continued as if he hadn't replied, "you can turn around and forget it!"
He pulled the car to the side of the road, near a cluster of trees that formed a natural arbor with their overhanging limbs. His mind was racing. This kid wasn't as naive as she had seemed. She was demanding a pretty high price, for he'd have a hell of a time explaining the missing ring to Mary. Then too, he had become quite attached to it. It was a beautiful ring, and he had worn it proudly.
"Like that, huh?"
"Just like that!" Marty said calmly. She was aware that her skirt now revealed her crotch clearly, and she sounded confident.
"You little bitch!" Tom exploded. "You know how much I need a good piece of ass from you, don't you?"
"Yes, so why argue over a silly ring?"
Tom heaved a sigh of resignation. "Okay, get out."
Marty giggled. "The ring, first." As he twisted it off his finger and handed it to her, Marty leaned towards him and stuck her tongue into his mouth, making him jump and grab her in his arms, his hands exploring the softness of her breasts. He dug his own tongue deep into her mouth and as she sucked it in, nipping it slightly with her teeth, he knew he wasn't going to be sorry. He let one hand slide up between her opened thighs and rest of the soft, warm mound of her cunt. His finger rubbed the already wet lips of it through the flimsy material of her panties, and he hooked a finger onto the elastic at the top and tugged at them.
Marty was out of his embrace and had the door opened in a flash, and she walked toward the shelter of the trees, wriggling out of her sweater as she walked. When he scrambled out and ran after her, she turned and revealed her luscious young breasts, soft and tantalizing in the faint light of the moon and stars. She dropped her sweater and slipped out of her miniskirt and panties in one movement.
Tom's hands trembled as he took off his pants and shorts. He couldn't tear his eyes from the ripe, alluring young body. It had been so long—so awfully long, since he had been aroused as he was now, he thought. His cock was standing out stiff and strong, bouncing slightly as he walked to her and took her in his arms. He bent to kiss her neck, then moved quickly to her nipples, fondling one breast with his hand while he sucked and nibbled at the other with his mouth. Her flesh felt cool, but he could sense the rising passion inside her. She ran her fingers across his lips as he sucked on her breast, and he fell to his knees, letting his hands slip down to cover her ass-cheeks. She spread her legs slightly, and he used one hand to spread her cunt lips wide. Like a hungry tiger, he closed his mouth over her cunt, loving the taste of her, the feel of her hot, wet pussy as his mouth sucked at its depths, while his tongue probed inside until he found her clit. He tongued it, pulling her body closer with his one hand, while he shoved one finger up into the deeper parts of her cunt, moving it about, making Marty writhe and moan at the delicious feeling. She liked the scratchy feeling of his beard as he moved his face up and down to allow his tongue deeper access to her pussy.
"Make me come, Tom!" she pleaded, accommodating her own pelvic thrusts to his flicking tongue and probing finger. "Suck me until I come!"
Tom was making animal noises as he abandoned himself to the long-denied thrill of feeling his mouth filled with young cunt! Forgotten was the ring, and Mary, who had given it to him. All Tom wanted was to please and possess this fiery, teasing girl. He wanted to bury his face inside her cunt, feel her throb under his sucking mouth, feel the jumping clit as she came. It had been a long time since he had wanted to give—it had been a long, dry spell of only hoping that he could gain some measure of sexual relief from Mary.
Marty was making him alive again, aware of his manhood. It was standing at attention, throbbing with the need to bury his cock deep into her cunt, to prove to himself and to her, that he was still a hell of a good man in the fucking department. He bit and sucked, thrilling to the movements of her young, tender body, as she came, uttering a little cry of joy, clutching the back of his head tightly with both hands, as he slowly abated the sucking and biting movements, feeling her shudder as he added the finishing touches to her orgasm.
She stepped away and quickly lay on her skirt and sweater. Marty spread her legs wide, running her hands over her breasts and stomach, murmuring, "Fuck me, Tommy. Give me every inch of that wonderful prick! Fuck me—and hurry!" In his eagerness, Tom merely crawled on his hands and knees to her prostrate body. He feasted his eyes on the wetly glistening pussy and the hardened, upthrust nipples. He moved inside her spread legs, his cock in his hands, and lowered himself so he could shove it into her waiting cunt. He jumped involuntarily as she reached down and helped guide the head of it into her waiting portals. Once it had penetrated the gates of pleasure, Tom lost control of himself. He began to pump hard, plunging it deep inside her with every lunge of his body, almost as if he were afraid she would try to get away.
But Marty had no intentions of curtailing the action. She was being excited more by every move Tom made, and she thought, incongruously, of the remark she had teased him with about bald-headed men being sexier. Maybe they were, if Tom was a sample of them.
At first, Tom had been supporting his weight on his knees, but now he relaxed completely, and was bringing grunts from Marty as his full weight drove home each cock lunge. She wrapped her legs around him and he slid his hands behind her, so that he could play with her asshole with one of his fingers.
As they both abandoned their bodies to their lust, they became a writhing, moaning mass of flesh, grunting and gasping at the thrilling contact each was making with the organs of the other. Marty bit the lobe of Tom's ear, then shoved her tongue deep into it, feeling him shrink away at its hot touch. Faster and faster they moved, until with a cry of sheer ecstasy, Marty let her clitoris buck and bounce in perfect rhythm with Tom's ramrod. They exploded at the same time, gasping, saying unintelligible words, completely lost in the rush of passion that flooded their bodies.
As Tom relaxed, Marty moved her hips in a circular motion, coaxing his prong erect again inside moments. When they resumed the rhythm of intercourse, they locked mouths, plunging tongues meeting sucking mouths. The orgasm was much quicker for Marty, and after she had come again, she concentrated on using the inner muscles of her vagina to bring added rapture to Tom. A moment after he shot a load of semen into her again, Marty erupted in a series of violent bucks, and her last orgasm was the best of all!
They lay in each other's embrace for long moments, saying nothing, bathing in the soft afterglow of sexual fulfillment.
But already, Marty was thinking about Ray's reaction to Tom bringing her home. She hoped he wouldn't take it out on Tom during the course of their work, but that was really none of her business. She coldly wondered if she had read Ray's thoughts correctly—that this was going to be the night he would throw off all his inhibitions and really get with it.
She had already chalked Tom up as a conquest, and she never had wasted time on dead issues.
As they parted and dressed, each was silent. Tom seemed almost embarrassed, now that the flames of lust had subsided. In the long run, he wondered, had she been worth it? She was hot enough. She had given him the best screw he could remember since his early youth, yet, she threatened to create complications that he wasn't sure he could handle, or would want to face. The ring was bound to cause trouble. He suddenly wondered what would happen if Ray saw his ring in Marty's possession. And what would he tell Mary?
On the silent ride to Ray's, Tom broke the silence only once. He said plaintively, "Do me a favor, Marty. Don't let Ray see my ring. Okay?"
She patted his arm fondly and mumbled, "Okay," and when he pulled to the curb and let her out, they parted with the coolness that would be normal in an uncomplicated situation of a father taking a babysitter home. So cool were they, that he completely forgot that he owed her money, and she evidently had also, for she waved cheerily and danced up the walk and into the front door.
Ray and Helen were watching TV, and they looked up in surprise as she walked in. "They only stayed to see one picture," Marty explained. She noted the frown that twisted Ray's brow. He wanted to ask a dozen questions, but he said nothing. Helen looked at her watch and said shortly, "You'd better get to bed. It's late." She stood up and walked toward the kitchen, saying to Ray, "We'd better get some sleep, too. Besides, that program is dull." Without replying, Ray rose and snapped off the TV.
He didn't look at Marty as she smiled and headed for the bathroom. Helen called after her, "Don't take all night in the bathroom, either."
Marty barely washed, then she urinated and went to her own room. There, she extracted the ring she had just earned, and got out the balance of her collection, holding it up against the other souvenirs, thinking it a handsome addition that was probably worth much more than the rest put together.
She heard a noise outside her door and hastily shoved the collection under her pillow. She turned as the door opened and saw Ray standing there, glaring at her. From the bathroom, she heard the sounds of the shower running, and she knew that Ray had dared to come to her room only because Helen was showering.
"What the hell are you pulling?" Ray blurted.
Marty looked innocent, but she smiled devilishly. "I couldn't help it if they came home early," she alibied.
"If they only saw one picture, you and Tom sure had a hell of a long ride home!" Ray accused.
Marty shrugged.
"What were you two doing?" he persisted.
"Ask him," she replied disdainfully. They heard the shower stop, and Marty began to take off her sweater, looking tauntingly at her uncle as she let just the barest glimpse of her breasts show.
"I'll be talking to you about this some more," Ray said curtly. He hastily shut the door and she heard him open the bathroom door. Then she heard the muted sounds of Helen and him talking—in loud, grating voices.
She pulled out her collection and quickly attached the ring to the bracelet, admiring it until the last second before she slipped it into its hiding place. She stripped and lay on the bed. She put the light out and stared into the dimness, reliving the events of the evening. Almost without thinking, she slid her hand down to her pussy and began to masturbate, breathing heavily as she recalled the satisfaction of Tom's mouth on her cunt, and later, his big, cunt-filling cock inside her. She had an orgasm, then got under the covers, falling asleep quickly.