Chapter 6

"Go down, Arny," Beth said fondling his balls. "Go down and eat my box, eat it!"

Arny was exhausted and apprehensive. He had never eaten a woman before. The closest to it he had ever come was kissing Madge's stomach one night.

"Down. Go down!"

The words urged him on. He owed Beth something. She was the woman who had sucked his penis and swallowed his semen. She was his first mistress and she was passionate beyond his imagination. But the V of any woman's legs had never enticed him. He thought of the smell and the awkwardness of knowing which hole he was supposed to manipulate.

Beth rubbed him vigorously, pushing at his head, shoving it down. Arny gulped and began to scoot down. He moved down until his face was positioned just below her vagina. He could smell the heady odor of her genitals.

"Lick up my leg, Arny," Beth urged. "Lick all around my legs until you get used to it. Then plunge it. Do it quickly and you'll see it won't bite. It's nice, Arny, once you're there. You'll like it."

He felt the tingling sensation as she massaged his testicles and kissed the inside of his leg. He began to lick at her thigh, letting his tongue gingerly pass around her vagina and over to her other thigh. His senses were becoming used to the aroma and he began to feel brave. He passed by the patch of hair again and this time let his tongue lap around the wet, pliable folds. He tasted the vinegarlike fluid around her vagina, and just as he was about to lift his head, Beth thrust toward him and drove his searching tongue into her vagina. He felt the soft tissues spread as his tongue wiggled around inside. And as Beth shifted, the opening widened, allowed the full length of his tongue to plunge into her. She was arching her hips and squeezing his head with her thighs, saying, "Suck the clit out. Suck my cunt, you beast. You virile beast."

The words excited him and he began to suck on the opening until he felt the titlike clitoris enter his mouth. He grazed it gently with his teeth as he drew it in. Beth arched higher on the bed and quivered. Automatically, he began plunging his tongue in as if it were a penis. Beth screamed and shook and then lay still, moaning softly.

Arny's penis was hard. Beth held it in her hands rolling it between her palms like a pencil. She had his toes in her mouth and sucked on them, licking between them and purring like a cat.

"God, Arny," she lied, "I've never had a man do that to me before like you did. Oh, Arny. Now. Now stick it in me. Screw me."

Excited, Arny turned around and crawled up her body, grabbing her erect tits in his hands and squeezing them. She lifted her legs and arched toward him, guiding his penis into her hole. He felt the slick lips widen as his engorged head pressed between them.

Beth rotated her hips slightly and he felt the shaft slip in, hesitate, and then drive in all the way. Beth moaned and locked her legs around his waist, squeezing him and gyrating. She raked the back of his neck with her fingernails and pulled him into her. He began to buck and twist, lunging to the left and right as she responded to his bursts of speed. He felt his cock straining and mashed his mouth against hers, forgetting that a moment ago she had sucked his penis. Her tongue met his and she began fencing with it and then sucking on it as their tempo increased. Writhing, twisting, thrashing, the two pumped into each other until Beth screamed.

"Deeper, deeper! Ram it in me, Arny Tillman!"

"Slut. Slut!" Arny screamed as he felt the strain of his second orgasm rushing out. "Slut!" As he shouted, visions of Madge appeared in his mind, sweet, innocent, Madge. Madge, who tried to do the things he said; Madge whom he took for granted ... Madge ... Madge ... Madge.

John was standing on the pool table, his legs spread, his cock rigid.

"Come on up here, you little mink," he said to Madge who sat in the corner sobbing. "I'm going to fuck you dog-fashion."

"No," she said softly.

"Pictures, pictures," John taunted. "Hubby won't like that now, will he. Besides, you'll like it."

"Not there," Madge pleaded, looking up at John as he arched his head back and stripped his long, banana-shaped penis.

"Does your hubby ever screw you there?"

"Of course not. Why do you have to talk so filthy?"

"Because. I'm that kind of guy. All nice on the outside, all rotten on the inside. Now get up here you silly little bitch or I guarantee your husband and his boss and your mother will all get copies of the pictures - anonymously, by the way."

"But your picture will be there. They'll know it was you." It was a chance, a hope, and she clung to it.

"My face was buried in your cunt. But my body showed, and I'll bet your mother would know the difference between your husband's body and mine. Now, you don't have much choice. Getting it from the rear isn't so bad. Hubby will never know."

John grinned and curled his lips back as he laughed. Beth saw flashes of her mother's face looking at the pictures. She wouldn't be able to lie. She'd have to say she had let him do it. She'd have to admit it. And Arny - God, if Arny saw them - or his boss.... Reluctantly, she rose from the couch and went to John. He pulled her up on the table and kissed her. She was cold and lifeless in his arms.

"Part of the deal is being warm and cuddly too, Madge, baby. So you better put some life into it."

She hated him. She hated Beth. She hated herself. She felt cheap and vulgar.

"Bend over and spread your cheeks, baby, I'm coming through."

God, she thought, how vile. How beautiful sex could be, and then how ugly. Sobbing, she bent over.

John reached under her and clutched her swaying, firm tits. He began milking them, pulling them down and squeezing the nipples until they began to harden. He let his cock seesaw across her cunt, pressing its length against Madge's cuntlips. He was in no hurry. He'd spend the time warming her up. Back and forth, back and forth, his groin slapped against her soft ass. She had stopped sobbing and he listened intently as he heard her regular breathing begin to quicken. He began to lick the small of her back, nipping at the flesh until he felt the goose bumps forming little ridges over her flesh. She was breathing hard and her nipples were stiff as he rolled them between his fingers, pulling on them, pinching them.

Madge hated herself. She could feel her body giving in. She could feel the tingling, prickling sensation as it spread over her body. Uncontrollably, she began to moan as she felt his fingers manipulating her nipples, pulling on them and twisting them. She felt his penis sliding along her slit and her body quivered, her knees felt weak, the blood rushed from her head. She winced when she felt him rest the long, upturned penis against her asshole. She was repulsed and excited as he began to gyrate his hips, nudging the prick against the tiny, constricted orifice that guarded her bowels.

"Oooohh," she moaned as he pushed it in slightly. He halted and gyrated his hips again, accustoming her to the bizarre sensation. He inched in again and she replied with another moan. He halted and began to move his hips back and forth as she felt the tissue stretching.

"See? I'm not out to rip you apart, Madge, baby. I don't want to hurt you. Just relax. Enjoy the ride."

Madge bit her lip and placed her hands on her knees, John's arms were wrapped around her waist, helping to hold her up.

"We're going all the way, baby," John crooned. "All the way. Stand by."

Madge braced herself as she felt the staff push in deeper and deeper. She felt as if she had to go to the bathroom. There was a stinging pain as he drove himself in all the way, and Madge howled. Her legs shook as he began to pump back and forth.

"Work with me, bitch," John hissed, his hands cruelly clutching her breasts and kneading them. "Work with me." The pain began to ebb and the filling sensation slackened. Tears running down her face, Madge began to meet his thrusts by jerking her buttocks back. She listened to the slap, slap of their flesh as they met and recoiled.

"Screw, bitch. Screw. Say something. Tell me how good it feels."

"Bas-tard," she spat. "You rot-ten - umph - bas-tard."

"Tell me you like it," he commanded, squeezing her breasts and ramming harshly into her. The pain returned and Madge cried out. It ebbed more quickly this time.

"Tell me!"

Excitement replaced repulsion. Madge began to feel the erotic sensation of the act. She began to thrust earnestly as John drove into her. She began to whimper and her hands slipped down to touch his.

"Flesh," he chanted. "The touch of flesh. Feel it, listen to it, smell it."

Madge listened and smelled and touched. She began to shake her head, letting her hair swish back and forth across her shoulders. Her ass was driving as wildly against him as he was ramming into her.

"Deeper," she whispered. "Deeper. Kill me. Kill me."

"That would be too easy," John laughed as he drove the prick into her to the hilt. "That would be too easy."

"It's good. It's good." She didn't want to say what he wanted to hear. The unspoken words came tumbling from her vagina not her mouth. She hated him, but she wanted him. She never wanted him to stop.

As he rammed into her, he took one of his hands and curled her fist, making an O. Then he extended his middle finger and, as his cock rammed into her, he screwed her curled fingers with his own.

Madge panted and clutched at his middle finger, squeezing it as it slid in and out in a mockery of seduction. She could feel the orgasm coming. It began to thunder in her bowels and then roared through her.

"I'm coming!" she shouted. "I'm coming...."

John pumped madly into her as she screamed. She felt his cock harden inside her and then lunged back desperately as she felt the first hot gush of semen splash into her. Again and again she threw herself back and clenched her buttocks as she felt the sperm filling her like a foul enema. Exhausted, they fell to the tabletop and lay panting, stroking one another - forgetting for the moment they were wolf and sheep.

Beth and Arny lay quietly, smoking cigarettes. Occasionally, Arny would reach out and caress Beth's tempting body and think back about the things they had done. Had he not been so exhausted, he would have tried to mount her another time, but it was all he could do to lift his arm and drag off the cigarette.

"Arny?"

"Yes."

"Tell me something dirty about your boss - what's his name?"

"Mr. Cullen?"

"Yes, Mr. Cullen."

"What the hell for, Beth?"

"Would you believe I get my kicks that way too, hearing about bosses. Tell me something about him, something really ugly and sexy."

"Hell, I don't know."

"Make something up, anything." Beth shivered and snuggled up close to him. "You're smart, you've got an imagination. Come on."

Arny was silent for a moment. Smart. Imaginative. "How about - he sucks little boys' cocks."

"That's a good start. Now," she snuggled closer, "something really bad, really ugly."

Silence.

"I got it."

"Tell me."

"His wife fucks old men with syphilis."

"Good. Now something really rotten."

"God, Beth, this is too, much. Do I have to?"

She whined.

"All right. He eats shit for breakfast, drinks piss for lunch, and eats dead bodies for dinner."

"Great."

They lay silently, listening to each other's breathing. Arny's mind recalled the evening. He saw Beth's face at the door, her toothy smile, her tight sweater clinging to her firm, pointed breasts. He could feel her hand on his thigh, and her breath against his ear asking him for a kiss. He could feel her vagina sucking at his penis, twitching like a mouth as it worked over his pole. There was a world of difference between Madge and Beth. He had never known a woman like Beth. He had never felt himself so compelled to act like an animal in her practiced arms.

Madge was different. She was nice. That's why he had married her. She was nice and innocent. He'd never thought of her as a sexual partner, just as a wife; someone to be around when he wanted to talk, someone to do the cooking, someone to have intercourse with. But Beth. Beth was something else again. She purred like a kitten. Her every move suggestive, her every action passionate. She was not a wife, she was an animal; a lusty, unquenchable beast.

"Arny?"

"Yes?"

"Penny."

"Penny?"

"For your thoughts."

"I was thinking about you - and about -"

"Madge?"

"Yes."

"Do you love her?"

"I think so."

"Do you love me."

"I don't know."

"Do you love me when we fuck?

"Beth, I don't-"

"I love your cock, Arny. I love its smell, its taste, its -"

"Beth-I-"

"Tell me, Arny. Am I better than Madge?"

"Beth, please, I -"

"Does Madge twitch and rake her heels along your back? Does she bite your neck and pull at the hair on your neck? Does she play with your asshole?"

"Beth!"

"Tell me, Arny. I have to know. I want to know."

"I'd rather not."

"Tell me, damnit. You seduced me in your wife's bed so I must be better than she. Tell me." Her voice was commanding, cold, piercing.

"Yes, Beth," Arny said reluctantly, ashamed of himself for saying it. "You're better than Madge."

"How much better?" Again the coldness rimmed her voice. "Is my cunt better?"

"Yes."

"Say it!"

"Your cunt is better."

"Better than whose?"

"Better than Madge's. God, Beth, do we have to talk like this?" He turned to look at her.

"Yes," she hissed, digging her fingernails into his back and pulling him against her breasts. I have to hear it, Arny. I have to know I wasn't just a lay. I have to know I was better than the woman you married. Otherwise I'm a slut, Arny. A cheap slut. I don't want to be. You loved me when you screwed me, when you sucked me. Don't deny me now when it's all over.

Arny shifted, letting his hand rub along Beth's side, filing her cool skin skid under his palm.

"You're right, Beth. I'm sorry. Its just....

"Just tell me, Arny. Just tell me how much better a fuck I am than Madge. Don't think about it, just talk.

Arny talked, hesitantly at first, but then more and more fluidly. He began to tell Beth everything about Madge's sexual habits, conjuring up scenes that had never taken place but telling her about them anyway. As he talked in the dark, Beth smiled and the recorder noiselessly captured it all on its innocent, rust-colored tape.

"You're good, Madge. You turn on like a schoolgirl who's been wanting to fuck all semester but didn't have the guts.

John sat naked on the sofa eyeing the slim woman who lay sobbing on the pool table.

"Crying won't help, love," John cooed, sipping a drink. "Just keep a stiff upper lip. We're really your friends. That little buggering didn't hurt you now, did it?"

Silence.

"Well, there's more where that came from," John snarled, his friendly voice disappearing. "And the tougher you make it on us the tougher it will be on you. Now get your sweet ass up and come upstairs."

He stood and grabbed her forcefully by the arm and led her up the stairs. He watched her naked buttocks jiggling in front of him and couldn't resist goosing her.

"Umph."

"Everything with a hole is fair game," he said, jabbing her lightly again. "Even your nose, baby. Even your nose."

Madge stumbled into the living room ahead of him.

"I want to wash up," she said coldly as she felt the sticky semen clinging to her thighs and buttocks.

"Down the hall to the left. We use a whirlpool, baby. It'll turn you on, all that water sloshing around your twat." He laughed. "Go ahead. And don't bother dressing. We still have a long night ahead of us."

Madge weaved down the hall. It was all like a long, interminable nightmare to her. Nothing seemed real, nothing seemed logical. Hours ago everything was so normal, so standard, so pleasant. Now everything had a foul odor to it. Everything she touched made her cringe and despise herself for what she allowed to happen. Every thought that came into her mind was bracketed by some sexual act she had either performed or imagined she was going to have to perform.

The people had her in their grasp and they were squeezing her like bread dough, watching her ooze out the ends of their palms, between their fingers. And she didn't have anywhere to turn. She couldn't tell Arny - oh, God, if he found out.... The police? They were out of the question. She was sure Beth and John had some scheme to send the photos to Arny and her mother and his boss. They were right. All they wanted was her body, all they wanted was her flesh. No one would ever know unless she told them. But she would know. She would know every time she saw them or felt their presence.

She flicked the switch on and the bathroom was washed in the icy whiteness from the bright fluorescent lights. The lights splashed off the turquoise tile set in checkerboard fashion around a sunken tub of swirling water. Cautiously, she bent over and felt the water. It was warm and soothing and she slipped into it, feeling the current washing around her body in its endless merry-go-round existence. Settling back against the pool's sloping sides, she leaned her head back and tried to relax. Her muscles lost their tautness and her eyelids began to droop.

Then she heard a noise and sat upright. Silence. She remembered where she was and what she was doing. The nightmare was real and horribly ugly. Looking around, she found a bar of soap and began rubbing it over her body. It felt good sliding across her soft stomach, around her waist, up between her pert breasts, down against the semen-flecked thighs, under to the sore buttocks, back up around the vagina. The soap felt good; it was ridding her of the nightmare. She prayed that when she had scrubbed every inch of her flesh she would forget everything and wake up in her own bed next to Arny.

The noise again.

She started to speak but caught herself, deciding that anything she might say might bring John in. She didn't want to see him - she was sick of him and Beth and the whole unbelievable situation.

"You better hurry up or I'll come in there and get you."

Madge scrubbed herself quickly and stepped out of the bath to towel herself as John walked in with a drink in one hand and his still penis in the other.

"Doesn't that water turn you on, baby? I bet you finger-fucked yourself in there, you took so long." His heavy brows raised as he stroked his penis. "I thought I might make a formal invitation to you now before I forget. You are cordially invited to bring your husband over for dinner tomorrow night - and if you don't...."

Madge gasped. God, no. How could she!

"Don't look so shocked, honey. We'll just pretend we said a fleeting hello and good-bye. Act straight, and hubby will never know. But do show up. I'd hate to spend all that money on stamps so soon."

He sat the glass down and moved toward her, his upturned penis wagging in front of him.

"Come to the house tomorrow for dinner Arny."

Arny sat on the bed with one foot half into his trouser leg.

"What? God, Beth, how could we?"

"Easy. Just be there at eight."

"But, what if we look at each other wrong - or -"

"For God's sake, Arny. It would look more ridiculous if you didn't come. And more suspicious. Look, we're neighbors aren't we. We should be seeing some of each other. Just play it cool. Act normal. Look at me, but don't look embarrassed. Anyway, I've already invited Madge. She said she wanted to repay me someway for my kindness. I told her to come for dinner. Oh, Arny. I have to see you again anyway. I've never felt tins way with another man, not even my husband."

She pulled his face to hers and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Tell me you'll come. Please?"

"All right. All right. But, Beth-"

"Yes."

"Let's try not to let this happen again. I'm - I'm sorry!--"

"Oh, Arny, I know," she said, pulling his head into her still-naked breasts. "It's wrong. I'll try and fight it too."

"Thanks, Beth," Arny said, feeling ashamed, embarrassed. "But I still love Madge, honest. I like you - don't get me wrong - but I...."

"Don't apologize, Arny. I think everything will work out best for everyone."

Arny looked at her quizzically. She had a thin, knowing smile etched on her beautiful face -a disturbing smile. Having pulled on his trousers, Arny went to the bathroom, unaware of Beth as she pulled the recorder from under the bed and slipped it surreptitiously into her large purse.

"I'm leaving, Arny," she said, standing at the door and blowing a kiss at him. "Thank you. Thank you for being so helpful." She hurried down the stairs and out the door.

"Beth-Beth?"

He'd wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hold her just one more time. He'd made the decision never to let this happen again. He didn't want to risk his future life with a troublesome affair. He wanted her to understand. But she was gone.

Arny went downstairs and cleaned up the mess of snubbed cigarettes and liquor-filled glasses. He stuffed the bottle back into the cabinet and vowed never to touch the stuff again. He'd become a teetotaler, to hell with what the others said. He'd serve drinks at home to guests but he'd never touch the stuff again. He'd already made one terrible mistake and didn't want to compound it.

He wearily climbed the stairs and got ready for bed. Slipping between the sheets, he smelled Beth's seductive perfume. He'd change the sheets in the morning before Madge got back. But the rest of the night he'd lie there smelling the last, lingering odor of his temporary mistress.