Chapter 4
Madge didn't really want the drink, but she took it, mostly out of defiance.
"Cheers," she boasted as she gulped down the alcohol. She liked John as much as Beth. He was graceful, and very masculine. He could talk and listen, and when he spoke to her she felt as if he were an old, dear friend. Yet she felt something else. An exciting sparkle in his eye; a look that could be suggestive. She thought how long it had been since a man looked at her that way. Her skin prickled and she shook involuntarily.
"How about some pool," John offered, standing and motioning toward the basement door. "Do you play at all, Madge?"
Feeling the effects of the drinks, Madge giggled and rose to her feet. "I'll try anything tonight, I feel so free and easy."
She meant the statement lightly, but as she felt John's eyes meet hers, she knew he had taken it literally. She wasn't afraid of his stare, but even through the gauze of her liquor-filled mind, she felt wary.
"Well, almost anything," she added.
Beth stood and joined the couple, laughing and swaying from the drinks. "You have a sense of humor, Madge. We like that."
John's eyes still held hers. He was smiling and a single dimple seemed to pop into his face. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go."
Madge followed him down the winding stairs to the basement. She watched his muscles ripple under the skin-tight polo shirt and saw his buttocks clenching as his tight trousers clung to his well-formed body. She thought of Arny's body. It was thin and pasty and slouched. She'd never really compared his physical form to another man's until tonight. She was, for the first time in her life, disappointed in her mate's sensuality.
"Wow!" Madge exclaimed as John turned the rheostat up and the room filled with brilliant light. The basement was a room with low-slung sofas and double reclining chairs spaced around a long, green-covered pool table. Madge walked around the table, letting her fingers drag behind her over the finely polished wood. She stopped at one of the table's pockets and let her fingers slide inside.
"That's strange," she said as she paused and ran them down into the pocket again and again. "The pocket feels like hair, pub -" She couldn't get the word out.
"Camel hair," Beth said quickly, looking at John and smiling. "We have a touch of every country on that table. Part of it was built in France, part in Japan, part in Arabia."
Madge kept her hand in the pocket, feeling the coarse, crinkly lining. She laughed and swirled around to face her hosts.
"Isn't that silly of me?" she said, holding onto the cushion for support. "I thought that the pockets were lined with pubic hair -naughty me." She put her hand to her mouth and giggled.
"Let's play," John said, taking a cue down from the rack on the wall.
"Use the ordinary balls," Beth said, drawing one down herself. "Pick a cue, Madge."
Weaving toward them, Madge reached out for a cue and lost her precarious balance. John's arms snaked out and caught her, pulling her to him as he helped her back up. She gasped as she felt his rock-hard chest pressing against her back.
"I'm sorry. I guess I've had too much."
"Nonsense, we all keel over when we play pool." John laughed and released her, handing her a cue he picked for her. He then pulled a set of regulation balls from the credenza in the corner and racked them.
Madge watched as his deep-tanned hands fondled the balls, switching a striped one for a solid one, pushing the rack back and forth until the balls were tight, and finally gently lifting off the rack. She was awkward as she tried to coordinate the stick to the cue to the ball she was aiming for.
"Not bad," John complimented. "But I think you could use a little instruction." He moved around behind her and pressed against her back, taking both her arms in his. He was pressing his face against hers, as he leaned her over the table and helped her aim, telling her to balance the stick in her right hand and push it forward squarely against the cue.
Madge began to tingle all over. His body was matted against hers, and his breath was hot against her ear. Her hands trembled and she said, "Yes, yes. I have it."
The telephone rang and John left her to answer it.
"Quite a man, isn't he?" Beth said casually, flopping down on the sofa and freshening the drinks.
"Very attractive," Madge agreed, still smelling his husky after-shave lotion. She aimed at a ball and tried to concentrate on the game. But John's virile body, as it had pressed against hers, kept creeping back into her mind. She miscued.
"Guess I'm not much sport at this," she said, joining Beth. "Your shot."
"Break time," Beth said, handing Madge a brimmed drink.
"I better not, Beth," Madge implored. "I'm about to fall down now."
"Want to go home to your husband and face defeat?" Beth said.
"In a way - a woman can only put up so much of a fight. He was right -"
"Give up once and you'll be giving up the rest of your life, Madge, believe me. A woman has to stand her ground. I say to you - stay here and let it all hang out. Tomorrow tell him what you think and don't budge. He'll come around to you."
The advice sounded clear, honest, and straightforward. Arny had always told her what to do and how to do it. Now maybe it was time for her to have her say. They'd only been married a year - maybe there was time to start over.
"Okay, Beth. I'll fight."
"Good," Beth said, placing a friendly hand on her thigh. "You'll never regret it."
John hurried back into the room, concern etched across his attractive face. "It was your aunt, Beth. She's feeling ill and wants you to come over right away. Her nurse is off for the evening and she needs somebody to talk to until twelve."
Beth stood, stretched, and began to climb the stairs.
"W-wait, Beth, I'll go with you." Madge looked from John to Beth like a rabbit.
"Oh, no, Madge. Look, my aunt is a funny bird. Kooky. She only lets in the nurse and me and the houseboy. One of those rich kooks I told you about this afternoon. She'd have a kitten if anyone else came. She won't even let John in the house, poor old bird. Look, you just sit tight here and play a few games and I'll be back in a few hours."
Beth started up the stairs and John shrugged at Madge. "Better do as she says, Madge. Beth makes her mind up and that's that."
"But-"
"But what?" John asked. "You afraid of the bogeyman?" He laughed and shot another ball. Upstairs, a door slammed and a car coughed to life. Madge, tense and nervous, smiled and sat down.
"Sorry, I'm just so nervous tonight."
"Relax, baby. Relax." John's voice was smooth and soothing. Baby, Madge thought. He called me baby just like Arny says honey.
"Have another drink."
The room seemed to close in around Madge. She felt a tenseness in the air -an electrical charge hanging in the atmosphere, pressing around her, squeezing her, caressing her. She looked down at the palms of her hands and they were covered with sweat. She grabbed the drink and gulped it down, feeling the heavily spiked fluid singeing her throat as it funneled down to her stomach.
"Come on, I'll show you how to make that shot again." John leaned against the table, his eyes staring at her.
"I'm a lost cause," she said, trying to sound casual. "You'd be wasting your time. I like to watch you shoot - you go ahead.".
"I insist. As a host, I just can't invite people down to play pool with me and then beat them because I know a few tricks they don't. Now come on. Don't hold back." He reached out his hand. Madge looked at the thick, glistening palm. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, the electrical sensation greater than ever. Mechanically, she offered him her hand and he pulled her to him, turning her like a robot and bending her over the table.
He began the instruction again, moving her arms and shifting her body so she could make the shots. Her mind wasn't on the instruction. All she could feel was his body pressing harder and harder against hers; all she could feel was his arms squeezing in against her, tighter and tighter. Her head buzzed and her breath came quickly. She'd never experienced this with anyone, not even Arny. It seemed so real, yet she was sure he was moving slightly against her anus, pressing his hardened penis against the crack of her ass.
She couldn't tell how much of the sensation was in her mind and how much physical. She was keying up, the buzzing was louder in her ears, the liquor heady in her brain. Suddenly, she felt his arms slide off hers and slip up against her throbbing breasts. It was real. He really was trying something.
"Noooo... noo," she moaned, trying feebly to twist away. His mouth was on her neck, lightly kissing the slender slope of her shoulders.
She felt his tongue lick out under her ear and up the side of her face. She was frozen, unable to move. Her head buzzed louder and louder and she could feel his left hand dropping down to her V, pressing it with his fingers. Her mouth was like cotton. She tried to speak but nothing came out. She wanted to yell, to say no, to cry -but nothing came. Only a small, low, whimpering, "No...."
"Flesh. Soft, warm, slippery flesh. Flesh crawling over you, dragging across your breasts, flesh sucking on your nipples, flesh sliding gently up into you, flesh feeling you, flesh loving you...." He was swaying to the left and right with her locked in his arms as he whispered the words over and over into her ear. She was moaning no, but he could feel her responding, grinding her anus back against him, slowly thrashing less and less.
When he judged the time was right he turned her around and looked into her face. Her eyes were half shut, her lips trembling. Over and over again she said, No, it wasn't right. They had no right. It wouldn't work out. They'd be sorry. Madge had never used those words before. They came out automatically, instinctively.
"Flesh," John repeated, his tongue licking his lips and his hands slowly unbuttoning Madge's dress. She stood lifeless in front of him, her hands hanging from her sides like iron bars.
She felt the dress being pulled off her. She felt John's hands gently unsnap the bra catch, pull down the panties. She didn't step out of them. John lifted each leg for her and threw the clothes to the corner. All she could say was no as she felt John's tongue licking up her thigh, his hands crawling up the back of her legs. She thought she was going to faint. The blood seeped from her brain as his tongue licked at the matted pubic hair. She moaned and reached out for his head to push it away as she felt his tongue enter her. She had never imagined such a thing happening to her. It was something she'd only heard about and thought of as vile and corrupt. Now it was happening to her. She couldn't let it.
As her hands touched his head, his tongue slipped up into her, wagging around against her clitoris. The sensation coursed through her and instead of pushing him, she clutched his wavy hair in her hands and pulled, driving his face and tongue deeper into her. He rotated it, moving it in, out, around.
Madge was panting, her legs bowed, her buttock muscles quivered. "Ohhh... ohhhh...." She could feel it starting. It sparked around the base of her spine and began to smolder and then ignite. As she listened to the sucking, slurping sounds of John's mouth and tongue, she cried out. She had experienced the first of many bizarre orgasms.
She was floating through the spasms of ecstasy when she realized John was lifting her and carrying her to the sofa. Her mind still swam in the guiltless sea of the liquor and her body was renewing its trembling, hungry thirst.
"Please, John. Don't. Let me up. I shouldn't have let you - John?"
He stood stripping his clothes off, running his hands up and down his hairy chest, lifting his testicles up in the palms of his hands and letting them fall below his rigid penis as he said the words over and over - "Flesh. Flesh."
Madge shook her head and bit her lip, sobbing, as she felt his body lie on top of hers. He was warm and strong and his scent was exciting. She thought of Beth and what she would say if she came down the stairs and saw them. She thought of Arny and what he would do if he knew - and then she didn't think. John's tongue flicked around the lips of her vagina again, prying open the aching folds. One of his hands squeezed and pinched her left breast while the other wriggled under her. She lunged upwards and drove his tongue deeply into her as she felt his finger touching her anus.
Too much was happening too fast. She had never felt such waves of passion. It was like a nightmare, a wonderfully erotic nightmare. She was gasping and sucking in deep lungfuls of air.
"Ummph," she moaned as John stabbed his finger into her anus. Reaching down, she grabbed his hair and began yanking him into her, throwing her pelvis up against his face and twisting like a corkscrew. She was drenched in sweat and her mouth was filled with saliva. She was so enthralled she didn't realize John had scooted around so his cock was poised over her mouth.
He took his hand and grabbed the staff, pressing it against her lips. She felt it and opened her glazed eyes. The foreskin was peeled back and the red, glistening tip of John's cock stared at her.
"Suck it, cunt," she heard him say. "Suck it until it comes." As if hypnotized by its commanding presence, Madge reached up and grasped the staff. She closed her trembling lips and rubbed the cockhead against her lips.
"Suck it, bitch," John spat into her cunt. "Suck its flesh off."
He pressed it hard against her lips and she gently opened, letting the head slide in. He began to move it in and out and she felt it shove against her tongue.
"Swallow! Swallow it!"
Trembling, she gulped and felt the penis fill the back of her mouth. She thought she was going to gag when he pulled it out. Again and again she heard the command to swallow and she gulped, each time the cock seemed to sink farther down into her throat with less and less trouble. Her hands began to reach up his ass, experimentally at first, but then bolder and bolder. His hands were clutching her buttocks, pulling them apart and grinding them into his face. She began to pull his cheeks apart too, feeling the coarse hairs on his ass slide under her palms. Nothing seemed to matter to her now but the touch of flesh. She was sucking voraciously at his cock, drawing it deep into her mouth as her fingers ran up and down the crack of his ass, stopping to press against the soft, pliable sphincter of his asshole. Gingerly, she pressed her fingertip against the hole and felt it twitch and tense, sucking the digit in. She let it drive into the hole in rhythm with John's tongue which waggled in her vagina like the switching tail of a contented dog.
"Deeper! Deeper!"
She drove the finger to the first knuckle, and then, when he cried again, she drove it all the way while she sucked like a vacuum at his penis.
"Now," she moaned as she felt something like claws grasping her ovaries and spitting their venom into them. She began to thrash as she felt the needlelike spurs stinging inside her, quaking her body from head to foot. John responded, driving his tongue into her slit as deep as it would go. She felt his cock harden and his body tense.
"Pull it out when I come. Pull it out when I come." The command came and she started to draw her head away from the cock.
"No. Your finger. Pull your finger out when I come."
Bucking, raking her heels against the couch, Madge arched her ass and yanked her finger out of John's ass. His tongue rammed into her as his cock began to spurt long, thick, viscous streams of semen into her throat. She choked and swallowed, her body shivering, her skin prickling. She gave one long, seemingly endless shudder and then lay exhausted with John's shrinking penis still dribbling semen into her mouth.
She lay there feeling sick as she realized what she had done. The liquor had lost its effect and she was aware of her senses; aware that a virtually strange man was lying on top of her with his mouth glued to her vagina, with his lone limp penis buried in her mouth.
"Get off-get off!" She began yelling the words and twisting.
Laughing, John rolled off, wiping his mouth on his hairy arm.
"You coach well.
Madge snapped her head around and looked into Beth's smiling face.
"You were so hot you didn't even recognize my voice. Remember, honey - Deeper. Deeper. Pull it out when I come. No, your finger. Pull your finger out when I come. Just remember one thing from now on-never trust a naked stranger, you little slut."