Chapter 2
"Please don't cry, Priscilla, I'm sorry I made you do that awful thing." Zoltan took out his soiled handkerchief to wipe gobs of gooey semen that were dripping down her face.
"You could at least use a clean handkerchief!" she protested, noticing balls of hardened snot on its surface.
"I'm sorry, it's all I have."
She reached into her ostrich purse and extracted a silk hanky with which to mop up the mess. "You're not really sorry you made me do what you made me do, are you?" she asked as she wiped her face free of drying, sperm droplets.
"A standing prick hath no conscience."
"That's for sure. Once that thing of yours gets hard, you'll do anything to make it spurt. It sure makes a mess when it does. Ugh! It's no wonder Mother hates men. Even their seed smells bad!"
"You'll get used to it, my dear. It's like your first cigarette. Sure it makes you cough, but before long you're hooked on smoking."
"That's the trouble with the older generation, getting itself addicted to cigarettes, booze, and sex. I, for one, intend to do otherwise," she replied, a smug look on her young face.
"With what, marijuana? I can tell you from experience that sex packs a far bigger kick than that weak weed. If you'll just give me a chance to show you, III make you feel better than you have ever felt in your entire life."
"I doubt it. So far all you've done is make me feel more disgusted than I've ever been in my seventeen and a half years."
"You're that old, are you? My, how time flies! Why, it seems like only yesterday you were a little brat who always wet her pants."
"Do you have to be so adult about everything? The next thing you'll be saying is you're amazed at how big I've grown. So you dandled me on your knee when I was young. That doesn't give you the right to shove your dick in my mouth, does it?"
"Wherever did you learn such language, little girl? Tsk, tsk!"
"From listening to men talk about the one thing that interests them most."
"Sex? Where would we be without it? After all, it is necessary that we indulge now and then if the human race is to endure."
"But that doesn't mean we should do perverted things!"
"Why shouldn't we, if they give pleasure?"
"There is more to life than self-indulgence, Zoltan."
"That's right, Priscilla, there is also sacrifice. Think of how happy you have made me by swallowing your pride and playing with my prick!"
"Only because you made me." A sullen look came over her lips, which s_on became a petulant pout.
"You look so cute when you're mad."
"The word is 'angry', you stupid foreigner!"
"Now, now, let's not be bigoted. Just because I wasn't born in Hog City doesn't mean I don't have the same feelings below my belt that all red-blooded, American males do. I like to fuck same as the next guy."
"Do you have to use such coarse terms to describe the breeding act? "
"Why not? Everybody else does."
"The trouble with you common people is that sometimes you can be so common," she sneered.
"Just because you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, little rich bitch, doesn't mean you know it all. I've been around a bit longer than you have and have done a few more things. Please forgive me if I sound presumptuous, but I know what makes people tick. You may try to ignore your sex drive, but it's going to be difficult, especially after I do a few more things to you."
"You wouldn't?"
"But I will." Again the evil smile oozed across his swarthy face.
She backed away, but it was no use. His hands gripped her thighs with a steely grip as he fell to his knees on the floor.
Hiking up her mini-dress, he laid bare her bikini panties of bright pink. "Pretty risqu‚ for a virgin, I should think."
"I'll have you know my grandmother sent me these for my last birthday."
"She did, did she? I guess the old girl's more of a swinger than I thought, which is more than I can say for your mother. She's a real stick-in-the-mud."
"How dare you criticize my mother, you cad!"
"Let's just put it this way, Priscilla, I think I know her better than you do, and I still don't like her. Nothing personal, it's just that frigid women give me the creeps."
"You have no right to say such things!"
"Even if they're true?"
"Servants are not supposed to be impudent. Do you know I could have your job for what you just said about my fair mother? "
"I doubt it. Your father agrees with me completely. Why else do you think he has so many pretty girls working for him? And if you think that's something, you should see his secretaries."
"How dare you imply my daddy has been unfaithful to his wife!"
"The truth always hurts."
"Why are you telling me these awful things? Hasn't our family treated you well since you came to this country-a poor refugee?"
"Who at least was his own man. Now I'm as much Harry's slave."
"Then why do you stay if you're so unhappy working for him?"
"Because bad as this job is, it pays better than anything else I could do, except maybe I could make more as gigolo."
"What's that?"
"A man who makes women, who can afford to pay him, happy. Usually he is young, she older. I'm afraid I'm getting a bit advanced in years for that. Guess I'd better stay on as chauffeur. At least that way I get to stay close to you, my lovely." He bent down and kissed her pale, dimpled belly.
"Too close, if you ask me."
"And I don't." He moved south of her sunken belly button. Stopping at the fringed top of her panties he tugged on them with all his might.
"You wouldn't dare?"
"Oh, wouldn't I?" He pulled the panties down just far enough for the timberline of her twat hairs to come into view, then savored their musky smell through distended nostrils.
Fearing for her virginity, Priscilla tried vainly to close her thighs from his carnal attack. Unfortunately, all she did was egg him on. Prying apart her thighs was like opening a clam shell to get at the goodies inside. (Only in this case the clam was bearded.)
Unable to restrain his curiosity, he again latched onto the panty fringe with his teeth and pulled the silken undergarment all the way down to her toes, the nails of which had recently been manicured.
While examining her flawless foot from close range, he was impressed with how clean it was, and told her so. Not a trace of toe jam marred the porcelain appendage to which he proudly pressed his lips; a podiatrist or fool fetishist would have gone crazy over it.
He moved upward, pausing for a cursory kiss of her well-turned ankle before caressing her calf fervently. All those ballet lessons had given her beautiful legs, fully the equal of Betty Grable. Nowadays, he thought, while nudging her beautiful kneecap with his nose, not many girls take the time to develop their gams, forgetting that often the difference between a good fuck and a bad one is a nice pair of legs. God, how I'd love to have these wrapped around my head!
Bracing herself for the worst, Priscilla bravely endured his upward assault on her virtue, but so afraid was she that every time his tongue moved northward her nails dug a trifle deeper into the broadcloth.
She was scared for two reasons: first, the obvious one of fearing for her virginity; second, because she found herself frightfully aroused by his lingual activities on her limb. Yes, aroused! For the first time in her life, she felt not in control of her body. Had it turned traitor to her? she wondered. Was it now in the control of alien hands?
By now he had traveled to the tremulous, white flesh of her inner thigh, traversing a route taken by no other man since the doctor who delivered her did, some time back, and the route had changed a great deal since then. The buttery skin began to quiver as his tongue neared the triangle of curly hair surrounding her virginal orifice.
Unable to resist the lure of the eager, inviting pussy any longer, he crossed the furry border and burrowed his head between her thighs. Before he knew what was happening, Priscilla closed her thighs with such force that it nearly popped his eardrums. Not knowing whether it was reflex or revenge, he nonetheless vented his anger on her mons veneris by biting into it with awesome force, causing untold pain in her pussy. A bloodcurdling scream escaped her lips as she retaliated by raining blows down upon his unprotected head.
"You filthy bugger, let go of me this instant, before you do irreparable damage to my vagina!"
She flailed at him ferociously and he loved it, biting her box all the harder so she"d continue. Only when her fingers found his pressure points did his grip loosen long enough for his teeth to disengage from her twat.
Lying sore on the floor, he looked up at her as she assiduously massaged her masticated muff. She had an angry, injured look on her flushed face, but it was obvious to him that she was wondrously turned-on. Having had a taste of her luscious cunt, he but craved more.
To recapture the lost territory of her tufted mound, he devised a battle plan. Knowing she could rub but not lick her injured orifice, he offered to help ease the pain. Her twat hurting something terrible, she was in no position to refuse his offer. In times of internal distress, there's nothing like succor from abroad to give relief, she mused as he orally massaged the injured area.
Spreading wide her alabaster thighs, he thrust the healing shard of his tongue between the puffy pink lips. She winced at first, then relaxed as he slavishly licked her wounds. The tight folds loosened with every ensuing lick. Soon the scented hole was covered in a sheen of sexual excitement. Forgotten was her fear of carnal penetration as she lay back and loved having her pussy licked by this hot-blooded Hungarian. The delicate, pink lips of her pretty slit parted to welcome his wondrous, wet tongue between her dewy folds.
She gave a small, excited croak as the tip of his velvet tongue sank deep into her seething cleft, causing the release of enormous amounts of love juice therein. Delicious little waves of lust gave way to bestial grunts of pleasure as he lapped her pussy into a veritable lather. Vibrant tremors wracked her warm little box as his tantalizing tongue brought her closer to her very first climax.
Gone were all the inhibitions regarding oral-genital sex, at least of a passive nature, as she gave herself fully to this frantic lapper of cunt who was causing her to go wild with rising lust.
Knowing she was close, he plied his tongue feverishly on her lubricious loins in a fervent attempt to put her over the top. Within moments after he speeded up his stroke, she began to spasm.
"Oh, God, I feel so good, please don't stop!" she screamed, as total excitement overtook her for the first, fantastic time. Unable to control herself, she dug her nails into his nape with such ferocity she drew blood. Nothing mattered but the marvelous thing that was happening to her Netherlands as she wallowed naughtily in a delirium of delight. Never before in her life had she felt so good!
Again she cried, but this time it was tears of joy that ran down her rosy cheeks.
"Zoltan," she gushed girlishly, "you're something else!"
"I am but your humble servant, attempting to do my job as well as I am able."
"Which is pretty darn good, if you ask me. Any time you want a testimonial, just ask me. Where did you ever learn to lick like that?"
"A gentleman does not discuss his past sexual exploits, Miss Priscilla. Let's just say that I've studied under some inspirational ladies."
"Please don't talk about your other girls when you're with me, Zoltan, it makes me jealous." She bent down and bussed his feverish brow to show her appreciation for his efforts.
But he was not to be satisfied in so cursory a fashion. He, having performed his altruistic duty, felt she must do-likewise. All that pussy licking had turned him on something terrible.
Taking advantage of her friendly disposition, he grabbed hold of her girlish head and rammed it down over the tip of his rampant pecker. Again she balked, but this time he was unrelenting.
"Either suck me off or suffocate, wench," he said as he held her neck in an iron grasp.
It was amazing how quickly she learned to breathe through her nose.