Chapter 7
Lamplight bathed the bedroom in a soft glow as Bobby Maxwell, nude, with Cindy Gaynor, equally naked, played on the bed. The girl sat astride Bobby but with her upper body lowered upon his until her soft breasts were mashed upon his hard, hairy chest. Tucked deeply within her snug pussy was Bobby's rampant cock upon which he had sat Cindy down.
Cindy moved her girlish hips languidly, pressing down with her knees upon the bed as she guided herself slowly up and down on Bobby's rigid pole, then waggling her bare bottom friskily from side to side as thrill after thrill titillated her simmering box. "Like it?" Bobby whispered into a small ear almost concealed by Cindy's flowing blonde hair.
"Mmm!" she sighed. "It's just scrumptious, Bobby." Blithely she continued her self-propelled ride on the fleshly spear lodged securely within her, all her movements in tranquil slow motion. She opened half-closed eyes to looked into Bobby's gray ones. "But it's better for you the other way, isn't it, though? With me on the bottom?"
"It's good for me any way," he assured her. He raised her slightly to fondle her swinging breasts, then lowered her again and reached down and cupped her curvaceous hind cheeks in his palms.
"You're just saying that because you know I'm enjoying it up here," she said wisely. She gave an extra flirt of her nude rump, then gasped at the surge of sensation in her pussy. "Oooh!" she breathed. She giggled gleefully, again easing her well-lubricated sanctuary up and down on Bobby's robust prick. "Give me another couple of minutes like this," she begged winsomely. "Then we'll do anything you like."
"You can stay right there the rest of the night," he insisted. He squeezed her velvety buttocks gently, kneading and patting her hemispheres. Cindy kissed his neck in rapturous abandon, and Bobby returned the kiss with equal passion.
"Ooo, this is wonderful!" Cindy exulted. Her eyes sparkled as she wriggled her hind parts in sprightly fashion in Bobby's hands. "I just love it when you feel me, Bobby."
"Feel you where?" he teased.
"Anywhere," she said lovingly. "Anywhere you want to feel me." Her tone was a mixture of carefree vivaciousness and unembarrassed delight. She gradually slowed down her bottom. "I'm ready," she whispered. "Turn me over, Bobby."
"You're the most perfect little thing!" he exclaimed. He dealt each nude globe a sharp spank before transferring his hands to her slender waist. "Tuck your arm and shoulder under, and over we go." He propelled himself up and over her slim figure in a rolling motion until he could balance himself on his knees above her, his cock still firmly rooted in her grotto. "Now I'm gonna make you squeak, Miss Priss!" he gloated in pretended ire.
"I'll squeak for you any time you like," Cindy informed him. Her smile turned into a gamin grin. "Fuck me, Bobby," she whispered almost inaudibly.
"You little devil!" he exploded with laughter, then bent his back and shoulders to the pleasant task. Slowly at first, but then with ever-increasing force he plunged his stout rod into the depths of Cindy's crypt. The girl's soft arms crept up and locked around his shoulders as she held him tightly while the brawny male tool ravaged her willing cunt. She raised her legs still higher and tried to anticipate Bobby's movements so that she would be able to engulf every inch of the rugged intruder.
A quick fluttering in her interior caused a hiatus in her breathing. "Bobby!" she murmured. "Ohhh, Bobby!" Her voice soared jubilantly in a paean of well-being. "Bobby! It's ... doing it... again!" Her legs writhed and her pelvic muscles contracted in a prolonged orgasm. "Oooh!" she moaned blissfully. "It's so . . . nice!"
His shoulders flurried mightily under her hands. He rose higher on his knees and pounded Cindy's warmly curving belly with his own until the tip of his scouring prick trembled warningly. "Ahhh . . . Christ!" he said jerkily as the stream from his vibrating cannon thundered into Cindy's scented bower. "Oooh man!" He rested on her breasts for a moment before raising himself from her.
Cindy immediately slipped from the bed and trotted, nude, to the large boudoir mirror. She raised one leg as high as she could manage and examined her crotch curiously. "Look at it!" she exclaimed in mock concern. "It's so red in the face!"
He rolled onto his side to watch her. "It looks like such a dainty little thing," he observed. "Instead it has a fabulous expansion joint and an appetite like a longshoreman."
Cindy smiled. "I'm soaking," she announced cheerfully.
"Come back here and we'll fix that," he told her. When she promptly obeyed, he placed her on her back with her legs dangling over the edge of the bed, then knelt in front of her, between her legs. He raised her legs and put them on his shoulders, then slid her closer to him. The rosette was right under his mouth.
He began to lick at the overflowing juices oozing from the softly distended lips. A long, slow shiver rippled through Cindy as she felt his quick-darting tongue on her private parts. She relaxed, content, her thighs raised slightly to offer more freely to Bobby what he wanted. Her small hands played lightly with his hair as the busy tongue cleansed every niche of her centerpiece. Bobby breathed in the delectable fragrance as he licked clean the glowing chalice.
Cindy smiled up at him when he finally removed her slender legs from his shoulders. "What are we going to do now?" she asked eagerly.
"What would you like to do?" he countered.
She blushed prettily, a soft blush that spread down to her perky breasts. Bobby touched her skin wonderingly; he had never seen such a blush. Her silky skin was warm to the touch. Despite the evidence of the blush, however, there was nothing diffident in Cindy's clear-eyed gaze or zestful young voice. "I'd like to be fucked again," she said composedly.
His laugh was almost a groan of delight. He reached for her again and buried his face in the girl's warm little belly, lipping at the plump, satiny white flesh. "Fucked you shall be, my girl," he pronounced. "If I don't eat every inch of you first."
The immediately ensuing uninhibited proceedings in the bedroom were wordless but not soundless.
Dr. Ralph Fairbanks addressed Monica earnestly as they stood in the living room of her apartment. "I see no purpose in beating around the bush, Mrs. Simpson," he said firmly. "You not only have something I want, you have something I need."
"Namely?" she said with attempted lightness.
"A receptacle for my maleness."
There probably wasn't another guy in town who would so phrase it, Monica thought. She felt an odd compassion for this handsome man, obviously so uptight. "Give me two minutes," she said. She went into the bedroom and undressed rapidly, then sat on the bed. "All right," she called.
She saw Dr. Ralph Fairbanks' eyes widen when he entered the bedroom, but he said nothing. He shed his own clothing with a good deal of awkwardness, but he approached the bed with the firm stride of a man who has made up his mind. Monica was surprised at the dimensions of the lazy erection which preceded him.
For long minutes there was no sound in the bedroom. Dr. Ralph Fairbanks fingered and stroked every inch of Monica's fullsome nudity. His surprisingly big prick prodded her thigh as he leaned over her for some of his explorations. She could feel herself becoming deliciously wet. "Ready?" she asked when he finally stopped.
He nodded. He was breathing hard. Monica went down on her back, elevated and widened her legs, and raised her buttocks. "Put a pillow under my ass," she said.
He looked surprised, but complied. He crawled in between her legs and lowered himself onto her plump stomach. "No, Ralph," Monica said quietly. "Come up higher on me. You're too far down."
He shuffled his nakedness upward on her belly.
"That better?" he muttered. "I'd appreciate it if you'd tell me when I'm doing something wrong."
"That's much better," she assured him. She reached down and took hold of his prong which she guided to her slot. He started at her touch, but said nothing. A galvanic shudder rippled through him as he slid deeply into Monica's grotto. "It never . . . felt like that!" he gasped.
"Slowly now," Monica said, placing her hands on the upper slopes of the minister's buttocks. "Let's get in tune."
She pressed down hard with her palms when he started to screw at a jack rabbit pace. He got the message and restrained himself, throttling back to a steady plunging into the delicious feeling cunt. "That's the way," Monica encouraged him, swinging her hips upward from the bed to meet his thrusts.
The reverend boiled over immediately. He began to shiver and shake, and in seconds he spent into Monica's interior with a muffled groan. "Damn!" he exclaimed in unministerial tones. He started to roll off Monica, but she seized his shoulders and held on.
"Hold it, buster," she warned. "You're not going any place until I come, too." She began to contract her pelvic muscles upon the scarcely diminished prick still buried in her nest.
Ralph Fairbanks tried to restrain his rasping breath while he raged inwardly at his own incontinence. He was no better than a schoolboy. The unexpected accompaniment of this earthy but pleasant woman's hips had triggered his sudden overflowing. It had been an agreeably new sensation which had caused him to lose his small measure of self-control.
He raised his head from the cushioned platform of Monica's large breasts, startled. Something deep inside the woman's vaginal apparatus was nipping strongly at the head of his penis. And her thighs were slowly frictioning his sides. "Move your ass," he heard her say. "Slowly."
He cushioned his head again and began to move upon her. He felt a surprising resurgence in his penis as Monica's hands on his rump controlled his movements. With the ejaculation having taken the edge from his arousal, he found himself easily able to maintain the indicated pace. The pillow under her buttocks and his new, higher position gave him leverage, resulting in a formerly unrealized feeling of power. Beneath him the woman's soft body rose to meet his every thrust.
He experienced a rising tide of renewed excitement seeping through him again. The deep, warm clasp of the vaginal walls upon his penis seemed a perfect fit. He concentrated on maintaining the pace the woman was regulating, and he was startled anew when she exploded beneath him like a hissing kettle. Writhing, her legs clamped over his back as her bare behind bucked up to him in a new, flurried rhythm. "Oooh!" she cried in his ear. "Oooh! Ahhh, God!" Her panting breath signaled her extremity.
Her fervent outcries roused him almost as much as the pelvic contractions signaling the inundation of his lancing penis. He had never heard a sound from Isabel. This woman gave him a definite sense of accomplishment, juvenile undoubtedly, but there it was. He reached tentatively beneath her for the naked, spanned hind parts which had intrigued him when he played with them before; would she reject his action?
"Attaboy," Monica croaked from the depth of her sensual gratification. "Ride it cowboy."
And Dr. Ralph Fairbanks rode it. It took him several minutes longer, but he came again in a starburst of draining immersion that left him feeling faint. When he recovered, he felt so ridiculously pleased with himself it should have been ludicrous. Instead, he felt proud. He knew he had never come close to such a totally satisfying experience before as testified to by Monica's shining face, peaceful in satisfied carnality.
"Can we do it again?" he asked anxiously.
"You mean right now?"
"I think so," he answered, suddenly uncertain.
"You're still in the saddle, aren't you?" Monica asked briskly. "Dig in your spurs. No, wait. Take it out for a minute and I'll give you a little help."
Dr. Ralph Fairbanks withdrew from the warming female flesh and eagerly presented himself for a little help.
"You mean he actually screwed you?" Curt Sylvester exclaimed in amazed delight. He and Monica were in the basement office of the Sheriff's Department.
"Three times," she confirmed.
"Goddamn, I'd have given a farm to see it!" Curt proclaimed. He paused. "Three times? What the hell did you do, shove a cattle prod up his ass?"
"He doesn't need any prod. He's hung as heavy as you, Curt." "The minister?"
"The same. Poor bastard, he was doing everything wrong. If he didn't have a whang on him like a belaying pin he couldn't even have made contact."
"He's really got that much meat?"
"You'd better believe it. And you know something? Once he's had a chance to practice a few little tricks I showed him, I think he's going to chew up some scenery in this town. He's a really handsome guy, and once he learns the course he could be quite a stud."
Curt was shaking his head slowly. "You're puttin' me on," he said coaxingly. "Aren't you? The whole thing's a gag, right?"
"It's gospel, Curt. When I sucked him up after he-"
"You sucked off Fairbanks?" "Up, not off. All he wanted was to get it back in me."
Curt started to laugh. His big shoulders shaking helplessly, he was convulsed in a roaring gale of merriment. "Son-of-a-bitch if . . . that isn't the damnedest . . . thing I ever heard," he got out finally. "The goddamn minister is a stud. How about that? So why do you suppose his old lady is such a sad sack in the hay?"
"I told you," Monica said patiently. "He has the horsepower, but he never had the driving lessons. They've probably been going at it like a pair of ten-year-olds. He said he'd call me again. What should I do?"
"Damn, keep feedin' it to him. Till I think of a way to set up him an' his old lady for a fall."
"He's not a bad guy, Curt."
He stared at her from narrowed eyes. "You fallin' for him? It sure sounds like it."
"I just think he's never had any fun," she said defensively.
"Okay, keep on supplyin' it till I lower the boom. But any free servicin' after that an' I'll take it out've your ass." He grinned at her look of unease. "You about ready to be hung up on a door again?" "No!"
His grin disappeared. "Then stay in line, or I'll feed you a dose of the quirt till you pray for a better world." He made a flicking movement with his hand. "Adios."
He watched the flashing sweep of her good-looking legs as she climbed the stairs. What Dr. Ralph Fairbanks was getting was far too good for him.
Curt felt a quick stirring of the savage lust never very far below the surface.
When he set the minister and his wife both up, oh, man!
Isabel Fairbanks sat on the edge of her bed in her old-fashioned, square-necked nightgown, waiting for her husband. It was time for their mid-week lovemaking, and she wondered uneasily if there was any way Ralph could tell a penis other than his own had been forcefully inserted within her since a week ago. She had always wondered how married women who cheated on their husbands solved the problem, but it wasn't something a Christian woman could bring up at a Ladies' Aid meeting.
Her rectum had been terribly sore for the past two days, also, but Ralph would never know that. Isabel still felt lewdly debauched and wantonly unchaste each time she pictured herself face down on the blanket in the Sheriff Department's office with the brutal Curt Sylvester with his thick penis thrust between her nude buttocks, lustfully savaging her helpless anal passage. She cringed each time the memory reoccurred. She should have struggled instead of meekly acquiescing in her own degradation, but she had been afraid of the merciless quirt.
She found it appalling that she was still subject to the deputy sheriff's every sexual whim. The thought of those dreadful pictures kept her from confessing her predicament to Ralph. He would scorn her as no more than a bitch in heat if he ever saw those pictures. And the way unbidden images of Curt's ravaging prong in her own sinfully eager vagina popped continually into her mind, the phrase seemed only too painfully apt.
Ralph Fairbanks walked into the semi-darkened bedroom and began to disrobe. He still hadn't been able to make up his mind how to act with Isabel in this first conjugal encounter after his experience with the incredibly efficient Mrs. Simpson. Dare he attempt any of his newly acquired expertise? For that matter, would it work with Isabel as it had with the delightfully skillful Monica? Isabel would undoubtedly consider such abandoned activity the devil's handiwork.
He approached the bed as Isabel nervously rolled her nightie up under her neck as was her custom. Ralph wondered if Isabel's bare behind approached in attractiveness Monica's cute plumpness. In all their married life he had never seen Isabel nude. He was tempted to suddenly turn on the bedroom light, claiming absent-mindedness, but the thought of Isabel's chilly disapproval deterred him.
Isabel waited tensely while Ralph stretched out beside her. Could he tell? Would he disown her as a dissolutely profligate wife? She quivered in the darkness when she felt his hand between her legs.
Could he tell?
Ralph found his wife's sex zone unusually moist, but he proceeded with the usual finger insertion and manipulation of her vaginal orifice. Isabel's tension gradually relaxed. Everything felt normal by the time Ralph mounted her.
She was so thankful that disclosure of her shameful activities, though they hadn't been her fault, had been avoided it was an instant or two after her customary acceptance of Ralph's weight that she realized something felt different. She couldn't decide exactly what it was. Ralph was inside her, no question about that, but somehow differently. Should she say something? Or was it her previous anxiety that was misleading her?
And then Ralph began to move into her, and at once the mystery deepened. Instead of the quick assault to which she was accustomed, he was moving in long, controlled surges that seemed to bury his masculinity far more deeply.
Her first thought was that her husband had somehow hurt his genitals and hadn't told her, that he was attempting the weekly tryst when he wasn't feeling up to it. She started to question him, but a distinct, tingling swelling in her labial lips checked her query. She shifted position uneasily; what was going on?
"Wait a minute!" Ralph said hoarsely. He reached blindly above their heads and caught up a pillow which he handed to Isabel. "Put that underneath you."
"Underneath me?" she asked uncertainly. "How?"
"Under your behind!"
He raised himself so that she could do likewise, and Isabel found herself meekly inserting a pillow under her capacious bottom. Ralph at once resumed movement upon her with his rhythm markedly accentuated. She caught her breath as the previous tingling became a swelling, glowing coal that threw off heat all through her arbor. In seconds she was wallowing blissfully in a sensual state of suspended animation. Her entire body writhed in lascivious abandonment. "Ralph!" she exclaimed in horrified amazement as her previously slack arms came up and seized his shoulders. Her pelvis began to throb. "Ralph! Ohhh, Ralph!" Her feeling of enjoyment was so intense she thought she would faint.
Ralph rode the range lost in his own sensations. He had felt Isabel's unusual body activity, but he had his own preoccupations: his penis had never felt larger to him, and its swollen tip as he plunged in with ever-increasing vigor into his wife's squirming sanctuary seemed super-sensitive. He slashed -mightily at the yielding suppleness containing him as he felt himself trembling on the brink. Then his toes curled up and the muscles in his thighs vibrated as his sperm splashed mightily into Isabel's box.
Still pinned by her husband's body, Isabel floated dreamily, eyes closed. The refreshing sexual easement was so pleasurable that she basked in the unaccustomed felicity. Then a nagging thought intruded upon her sensation of well-being. Had her experience with the dreadful Curt triggered her unusual response? Would Ralph be disgusted at her animality? Guiltily she removed the arms she was surprised to find holding him.
Ralph pulled out of Isabel hastily. He was pleased that he had brought her to orgasm, but he was also apprehensive. What if she started asking questions? He needed time to think, he decided. He went to his clothes and pulled them on hastily.
Isabel felt an urge to speak, but what could she say that might not be self-betraying? The new experience needed consideration. Better to wait and think it through.
And so the Fairbanks' post-conjugal bedroom silence remained unbroken as usual.
Cindy Gaynor sat on Bobby Maxwell's lap in an armchair in the borrowed bedroom. Both were nude except for Bobby's socks. "My mother is getting suspicious about my being away from the house so much," Cindy remarked.
"Yeah?" he murmured lazily. His right hand was almost out of sight between the blonde girl's thighs as he played gently with her pubic hair, tweaking the fleecy golden curls. "Maybe we should invite her along?"
Cindy giggled, then turned serious. "She keeps asking why I have to spend so much time at the library, which is where I tell her I am. If she ever checks with Mr. Hardesty, what then?"
"The hairbrush for Cindy," he teased.
The blonde girl smiled. "Up to a couple of years ago, yes," she admitted.
He threw back his head and bayed at the ceiling. "Is that the way you sounded when you were getting it?"
"Worse. But seriously, I do need a story."
He sighed deeply, bent his head, and kissed a nippled breast. "D'you think your mother would adopt me an' let me move in?"
"Somehow I don't think it would work," Cindy replied after another giggle.
Bobby smoothed Cindy's long blonde hair away from her eyes before he spoke again. "Since I'm in love with you, it looks like I've got to get a real job so we can get married."
The girl's nubile, silky body became motionless. "That's the first time you've ever said you loved me, Bobby," she said softly.
"I also mentioned marriage in case you didn't notice."
"As long as you said 'love', I don't care if you ever said 'marriage'," Cindy informed him. She kissed him on the lips, then leaned back to look speculatively into his face. "When did you decide you loved me?"
"When you turned up your little pink cunt an' let me suck it," he said solemnly. He laughed at the quick blush that enveloped the girl's pretty face. "No, baby, who the hell knows? I wouldn't lie to you that when we started out I was just thinkin' about gettin' into your box. You kind of grew on me, I guess."
"You never had to grow on me," she said soberly. "As a girl at school used to say, I loved you before I even had any hair on it."
"Not that you've got all that much now. Sometimes I look at your little slit an' I think I'm contributin' to the delinquency of a juvenile."
"I owe everything to my instructor!" she said dramatically. She slipped from his lap and knelt in front of him, tugging urgently at his thighs to part them. She dropped her face into his groin, then raised her head again. "I can't reach it," she complained. "Move out farther on the edge of the chair."
He shifted position until his penis and scrotum extended over the leather cushion. Cindy stared pensively at his wrinkled-looking appendage.
"Every time I see it like this I get the most awful feeling it might never come up again," she said.
Bobby's flat belly trembled from his laughter. Cindy lowered her blonde head once more and lipped the soft cock into her mouth. She rolled it between her lips, teasing it with her tongue. She began to hum deep in her throat as Bobby had taught her, and the vibration from her lips was transferred to the cock in her mouth. Bobby's prick began to swell.
She nibbled at the blubbery tip of the prong, then sucked at it. The girl widened her mouth and took in more of the stiffening rod, sliding her lips back and forth on the shaft whose continuing extension now tickled the back of her throat.
Cindy pulled away momentarily to examine the bulging, purplish head she had sucked to readiness. "I just love to have you in my mouth, Bobby," she said quietly.
"Very touching!" a harsh voice rasped.
Cindy whirled on her knees, both hands instinctively covering her bare breasts. Bobby came halfway up out of his armchair until Cindy's nude body blocked further movement.
Curt Sylvester stood in the bedroom doorway. "I been hearin' about a car parked out in back here," he said with a sneer. "So when I recognized the car ..."
He strode into the bedroom. His hard grin fastened upon Cindy as the girl's hands flew to her lower belly to conceal her fleecy mound. The grin disappeared as Curt stared coldly at his nephew. "Lucky I happened along right now, huh?" he rumbled. "Since you two were gettin' it ready for me?" He unzipped his uniform trousers while Cindy stared, wide-eyed.
"Hold it!" Bobby blurted.
"Hold it, shit!" Curt leaned down and seized Cindy's arm. He dragged the girl several feet away from the armchair, her knees sliding on the carpeting until they burned. "Didn't I warn you I had my eye on this little gash?" He produced a semi-erection from his shorts which he dangled in front of Cindy's face. "Suck that one up if you want a man, little girl."
Bobby bounded into the room's center, balanced lightly on the balls of his feet. "You son-of-a-bitch, we're gonna get married!" he yelled at Curt. He took two quick steps in Curt's direction, then halted when Curt raised a menacing hand.
"That's right, nephew," Curt said, brandishing a huge, clenched fist. "You wanna see your little sweetie with a busted nose? A few broken teeth? Then just keep comin' this way." He nudged the dazed-looking girl with his knee. "Get to work, sis."
The muscles in Bobby's bare back bunched in frustrated, impotent anger. "Will you listen?" he demanded in anguish. "I said we're gonna get married!"
"Why don't you ask me to be the best man?" his uncle suggested blandly. "I'll test for the job right now."
"If you put one finger on Cindy I'll catch you some night an' put your lights out!" Bobby exclaimed.
"You try it an' I'll hang you out to dry," Curt responded. He looked down at the kneeling Cindy. "I'm not gonna tell you but this last time, girl. Suck that prick. And gimme the same performance I just saw from the doorway."
Bobby watched agoniziedly as Cindy's blonde head gingerly approached the dangling, blunt cock. He couldn't tell her not to do it because he knew his uncle well enough to know that Curt was easily capable of smashing his fist into the girl's beautiful face. His heart went out to the shrinking girl. If he could only get Curt away from her somehow . . .
But Cindy decided on her own to get it over with as quickly as possible. She was afraid of this man, afraid for Bobby, too. She leaned forward and took the semi-rigidity into her soft mouth with distaste. The odor was so much stronger than Bobby's it almost gagged her. She closed her eyes and began to swirl her tongue around the hardening rugged shaft.
Curt grunted aloud and widened his leg stance as the girl licked his prick and began to suck the beefy prong. "Jesus, blondie, that's some vacuum cleaner you got down there!" he rasped.
Cindy swiveled her mouth rapidly on the slippery prick, intent only upon ending her intensely degrading position. She felt the knobby head start to throb, and she started to pull away. Curt Sylvester gripped the back of her head and held her onto his spurting cock.
She had taken Bobby's spend, but lovingly, and when she was prepared. Curt's jetting bursts overpowered her. She swallowed desperately, gagged, coughed, and swallowed again. What she was unable to contain in her mouth ran down her chin and dribbled stickily onto her swinging breasts.
Curt held the girl in her ignominious posture until the last of his come had drained into her straining throat. Then he stepped back from the miserable-looking girl. Curt looked at the furious Bobby. "Not bad. Now for the main course."
Speedily he divested himself of gunbelt, uniform, and underwear.
Bobby responded instantly.