Chapter 10
Howard Steele Vanderpool had a mansion in the hills overlooking posh Bel Air that made even Cliff's look modest by comparison.
First of all we were confronted by a huge closed gate when Cliff arrived at the address. He had taken the occasion to drive Jackie, Consuela and myself over there, since he wanted to caution us on how to act in front of such a prominent man.
"I've heard some stories about him flipping out and everything else," he reported, "but his money's still very good and he seems to be getting along okay, even though he's not much on seeing people. He sees a few friends, mainly people he's known a long time, and that's it."
You couldn't see anything beyond that huge gate except huge sprawling shade trees that were swaying with a stiff evening breeze. Cliff got out of the car and walked over to a telephone hook-up near the gate. He picked up the phone and spoke into it.
"The Cliff Phillips party is here," I could hear him say. Then after a nod he added: "Thank you."
The huge electric gate suddenly opened. You could hear purring sounds of static electricity as we moved on inside. The second our car was inside the mammoth estate the gate quickly closed shut. At first it looked like a huge park with lots of trees, running water and neatly manicured lawns. But as we pushed onward along with winding driveway we could see a huge white house in the distance.
"Damned, it's a three story affair," Cliff exclaimed as we pulled into visible view of all of it.
"It's bigger than most apartment houses I've seen," I said.
"Damned, it's big enough to take up one city block," Jackie said. "It's bigger'n most state capitols."
Cliff parked the car in front of the house. It was well lit, including a shiny lantern that hung just above the double French doors that led inside.
We got out of the car, following Cliff up to the door. He was just about to ring the doorbell when the door opened. A husky guy we assumed to be the butler opened the door. But where he differed from most butlers was that he didn't have a stitch of clothing, and sported a delicious looking hard-on that I'd have liked sucking for an opener.
"You must be Cliff Phillips," he nodded recognition.
"Right on, and these are my three friends."
"They look very good," he looked us over and nodded. "But they'll look even better after they've completely stripped."
"You'd better believe it, pal."
"I must ask you to observe one house rule," the butler explained.
"Sure. What's that?" Cliff asked, "We have a house rule established by Mr. Vanderpool himself that prohibits anyone wearing clothes inside his house. So if you'll be kind enough to undress right here on the porch I'd be more than happy to let you in and show you the recreation room where he's expecting to receive you. I know it might seem strange to you, but it's accepted doctrine around here." "Sure, sure, we understand," Cliff nodded.
His remark might have surprised us girls, but not Cliff. He was completely unshockable, along with other things that I've already mentioned. No matter what anybody said or did he'd receive it with the coolness of a guy who knew it was going to happen all along.
The butler's expressive brown eyes widened with interest as we got our clothes off. First he would look at me, then Jackie, then Consuela, as his eyes kept darting back and forth. As for that cock, it got even harder than it had been when he first opened the door.
"Cliff, you're not only a dirty man. You're also a very smart man," the butler grinned.
"Why do you say that?" Cliff asked as he climbed out of his shorts and showed his huge prick.
"You're smart because you've got such great taste. Damned but these gals are stacked, and you're dirty because I'll bet you keep them almost to yourself and fuck the hell out of all of them."
"You're close," he nodded.
Once we all had removed our clothes, Cliff took the clothing and stuck it inside the car. Then the butler showed us inside the palatial place. We walked through the living room, the den, then the kitchen. Finally he led us to the elevator.
"The recreation room Mr. Vanderpool chose to use this evening is on the third floor," the butler explained as he got inside the elevator with us and pushed the number three on the button panel.
We got off on the third floor and saw a sign designation RECREATION ROOM right across from the elevator. He opened the door and let us in. I was so surprised by what I saw when I got inside that I almost had to let out a gasp. The ceiling consisted of a huge painting depicting a man ramming his long cock into a woman's pussy. It was divided into two parts. The first part showed him zealously moving around inside her, while the second showed the white juice shooting out of him as he climaxed.
The walls were decorated with pictures, some of which were blown up to life-sized proportions, depicting various people in different stages of sexual intercourse. There were pictures of beautiful women going down on men, and on each other. There were shots of men driving their pricks high up into the cunt or ass of a beautiful woman. There was a tall thin man with dark hair that cropped up in many of the shots, always with a beautiful woman, and always very much in the act of sex.
On both sides of the room were beds and couches sprawled out in every direction. It reminded me of what I had read in an old ancient history book about the Roman orgy rooms. It looked like a throwback to the past. Either that or the classiest looking whorehouse in the history of mankind.
"I told you this joint was gonna be too much to believe," Cliff grinned, enjoying the sights, paying particular attention to the shots involving the beautiful girls.
"Yes, I've put my cock to work many times in this room," the butler told us.
"How long have you been working for Vanderpool?" Cliff asked.
"Ten years."
"Then I'll bet you have," Cliff laughed.
The butler led us up to the front of the huge room. We observed a tall thin man with white hair sitting nude behind a desk. He was talking on the phone and gesturing animatedly.
"The picture looks good for tomorrow, at least as far as I'm able to determine," the man said. "Yes, they're talking about some peace overtures in Vietnam, some progress at the conference table. I know it's probably just a lot of the same old bullshit, but you know how the people are about buying a lot of this stuff. If enough of them are encouraged, and I think that's what'll happen, then that means that signs will be favorable on the market tomorrow. You're damned right I'm serious about moving that stock tomorrow. I'm pretty good about sizing up these things. The Wall Street Journal's of the same impression I am. The signs are gonna be favorable so I want you to move those shares the first thing tomorrow after the market opens. You hear me? Good, good, so call me around noon our time. After the market closes. Just after it closes. Okay, okay."
He hung up the phone. From the type of conversation that had been in progress I was sure that this was our host, the famous Mr. Vanderpool concerning which I'd been hearing so much. Not only did the conversation sound like a financial tycoon, but the man sitting in front of us looked just like the guy in so many of the screwing pictures, only a few years older and with his hair white.
The butler introduced all of us to him. The millionaire smiled and shook each hand individually.
"Glad to know you, Mr. Vanderpool," Cliff said.
"Now son, I don't think we should be that formal," he laughed. "All of you can call me H. S. That's what my close friends call me, and by the time you leave we'll all be close friends."
It was really something to see Cliff awed by anyone or anything. But Vanderpool's reputation, coupled with his money and impressive estate, had apparently earned a lot of respect from Cliff.
"Well, I'll be leaving you good folks with Mr.
sound like a financial Vanderpool," the butler nodded, leaving the room.
"You know, you sure look well hung," Vanderpool remarked to Cliff.
"I get by."
"Reminds me of myself a few years ago."
"Yeah, you had a pretty big one. I could see that from those pictures on the wall."
"Yeah, well mine's as limp as a wash rag now, I'm sorry to say. That's the breaks of the game, but I still manage to do a lot of things. Thank goodness I've still got a nice tongue." Then he looked over me, Jackie and Consuela. "Tell you what. To start things off on a beautiful note why don't each of you folks sprawl out on one of those red lounging couches just behind you and I'll come around and suck every one of you off. That's the best way of getting acquainted I know."
"Yeah, you girls do that," Cliff agreed.
"Well you're in this too, you big basketball stud," Vanderpool exclaimed. "I wanna sink my tongue into that cock of yours. I don't suck too many cocks, and I never did before I became impotent, but every now and then when I run into a real interesting one, like yours, and yours is the biggest I've seen, I'll cross the line and make the queer scene. I don't do it often but I'll gladly make an exception in a case like yours."
"Whatever you say," Cliff nodded.
Cliff then took a position lying on his back in one of the lounging couches, just as the three of us were doing. Vanderpool was certainly anything but handsome at that stage of his life, but there was still a mysterious sex attraction there some- where that turned me on enough to where I wondered what it would be like for him to go down on me.
Since Cliff was in the first couch, that was where Vanderpool started. He kept looking at that prick like he expected it to get up and walk. He was as awed by it as I had been the first time I say it, and it wasn't all that hard to see why. Vanderpool had been a sex connoisseur all his life and anything that much out of the ordinary could be expected to attract his interest.
I watched him drop his head down between Cliff's legs: as he slipped his lean, supple body down on the couch with him. He began by running his fingers slowly over Cliff's balls. Cliff would twitch every now and then, which indicated that the old man was getting to him Gradually he put his fingers to work on the base of Cliff's cock. He would use the fingers of one hand to continue playing with Cliff's nuts, while the other was used to massage his big cock.
"You really know how to put oomph into those finger movements," Cliff gasped.
"They say I have a natural sex instinct."
"I'll say you do."
He kept those fingers pumping away until Cliff's whole body was moving with every stroke. Then Vanderpool went to work licking his dick. His movements were brisk and thorough, and it didn't take him long before Cliff had his orgasm.
Then he moved to Consuela, who was next. He started out by moving those fingers around inside her snatch. He heated her up just like he had Cliff earlier. Then the tongue went to work, combing her mound effectively. He drove himself at the same brisk pace, determined to taste her.
Once she shot he moved on to Jackie, repeating what he had done to Consuela. Following that success he turned and looked at me. I was lying back, my cunt itching in anticipation of his movements. I liked the interesting way he maneuvered his tongue, and was hoping he'd give me the same kind of thorough treatment.
"You're next," he smiled.
"Sure enough, H.S."
"My but you do have a cute mound. Let me put these fingers around these beautiful tufts of hair."
He did have almost a magical way of moving those fingers around. He slipped them ever so gingerly over my twat, getting me so hot and wet that I could barely stand it.
"Oh, you're nice and wet there," he nodded, pleased that his movements had had such a quick effect.
Up and down and around that tongue applied itself to my hot snatch as my legs trembled. He didn't waste a solitary movement. I wondered just how many pussies he had sucked in his life. The number probably would have been so astounding I wouldn't have even believed it. The guy was so great that even somebody like Cliff could stand in open awe of him.
That tongue of his laced me with great rapidity. Finally my pussy shot, filling his mouth with the juice he had been after. He gave me a little nod of satisfaction when it was all over.
H. S. Vanderpool then walked calmly back to his desk, sitting down behind it and looking at Cliff soberly.
"I have heard that you're quite a man with mares as well as women," he said without so much as cracking a smile.
"I do okay there."
"You're being entirely too modest form what I've heard. I hear you're a real terror when it comes to sticking that stiff cock in there."
"Thanks. I do my best."
"I think I'll give you a chance to prove yourself tonight. I've got one of the most gorgeous young mares you could ever hope to see in my stables in the back. It just loves to be fucked. I only wish my cock was still in operating fashion, 'cause I'd do it myself. Yeah, I've fucked a few horses in my day, but that was some time ago." He picked up the phone and blurted a message into it: "I'd like to have Flaming Lady brought up here right away. Of course you should use the elevator. Yes, I mean that I want the horse in this very room. You've got that straight? Good. Good." He hung up. "You've got to spell everything out for these people. They think there's something so strange about bringing a horse up here for a little fucking. They've got no imagination at all."
A few minutes later the horse was brought up by the butler, who had a strange look on his face, like he could hardly believe that his boss would go quite this far.
"Thank you, Edgar," Vanderpool said to the butler. "I won't need you for a while now."
Edgar the butler took off without the horse and Cliff eyed his latest piece of ass. She was beautiful looking mare with a nice thick coat, and, from the excited expression on his face he was thinking the same thing.
Vanderpool sat back casually and watched the stimulating fuck, never once changing expressions, his eyes glued to the scene with great interest as Cliff's rigid penis tore into the horse's vagina. The horse was sprawled out of the rug, and would shift its weight and rock its body forward to meet Cliff's thrusts.
Cliff shot in p. matter of minutes, after which Vanderpool gave him a favorable nod.
"Yes, the reports were accurate about your cockmanship," Vanderpool said. "Very good. Reminds me of my youth." He got back on the phone. "Edgar. You can pick up Flaming Lady. And on your way you can bring Gustav and Henrietta. Yes, right away please."
The naked well hung butler quickly materialized, so that my curiosity concerning Gustav and Henrietta didn't have to be extended for long. They were two lively German Shepherds that barked and pranced all over the place.
The butler led Flaming Lady away. She was a lot calmer going out than she had been coming in, which meant that Cliff had apparently done a good job of pleasing her.
Now the dogs had center stage and were making the most of it, running around the room as they expended great energy, barking and wagging their tails every now and then.
"You know why they're cutting up so much?" Vanderpool asked us.
"How come?" Cliff inquired.
"Because they have fond memories of this place. They've done a lot of screwing in here. You'll never find two more passionate dogs than Gustav and Henrietta."
"I can believe that," Jackie nodded.
Vanderpool waited calmly until the dogs stopped running around. When they sat down on their hind legs just in front of his desk, equidistant between Vanderpool and us, our host spoke.
"I have been told that one of you young ladies is extremely skilled at canine intercourse," he said.
"Yeah, Carolyn here's real well trained," Cliff pointed toward me with great pride.
"That's good, 'cause I've got just the test for you. Gustav, as you can see, has quite a cock on him."
"That he does," I nodded.
"I'll let him get it warmed up on Henrietta. He always likes to start screwing with her. Then he's ready to take on anybody. My maid and cook are just wild about him. They're young cute gals and really love the way he pours the meat into them."
"I'll be anxious to try him on for size."
"Well, you're gonna get a chance to see him in action right now." Vanderpool suddenly clapped his hands several times. Gustav stood at attention, standing straight and tall, awaiting further orders from his master. "Gustav, fuck Henrietta," he was pointing toward the female dog, "go to her. Fuck her, Gustav, fuck her."
Gustav rammed his nose against his love's asshole. His sense of smell was thoroughly aroused. Then he let his nose get a whiff of her pussy, which also attracted him.
After he got the smelling out of his system, Gustav shot his tongue inside her ass as her body swayed dramatically, enjoying the male dog's movements. Then the tongue shifted to her aroused pussy. He took a few licks. They were of the token preliminary nature, designed more to get her hot than anything else. Henrietta was dying for a screw. She reared his ass back toward him, her cunt ready for penetration. She was speaking to him in the only way that she knew how, making it plain that she wanted him to put his penis to work on her.
The penis slipped inside her as he mounted Henrietta from behind in traditional dog style. I could immediately see what Vanderpool was driving at as Gustav pushed his cock in and out of her, driving himself to passionate heights.
"He's just getting warmed up," Vanderpool told me.
Gustav continued raising the pace until he was rocking back and pumping the meat savagely. Every now and then Henrietta would howl out, showing her appreciation for his sexy movements. He had to be as sexy in the canine world as my lover Cliff was in the human orbit.
"Good boy, Gustav, good boy," Vanderpool encouraged.
The explosion then came as Gustav let loose a deluge inside Henrietta's hot cunt.
"It looks like she got his best fuck," Jackie quipped.
"He'll equal that again. Never fear," Vanderpool confidently predicted.