Chapter 13
Once Mike had found out that Evers, Larkin, and Catrano were one and the same person and that his wife had somehow gotten mixed up with him, it was only a matter of hours before he located them.
Making sure he had plenty of cash, he had started asking questions and making it obvious he would pay money for the right answers. He was amazed at what the dollar would do: everybody had answers for him. Not everyone was as truthful with him as that Mexican lawyer in Juarez. He was sent on several false leads, but finally, he ran into people who knew of Chet Larkin. Chet was always on the lookout for new dope sources and also girls, although he preferred to recruit his girls from the ranks of lonely servicemen's wives than from bars and strip joints.
It was easy for Chet Larkin's friends to give him away. No one, not even Cynthia, liked him. Most people-like Mike-detested him and soon broke off all contact with him. Cynthia stayed with him because Chet had a power over her-she liked to be humiliated.
Now Mike mingled with the partygoers, glad for the low lights, nodding and saying hello to people he didn't know so that others would think he belonged. Most everyone was too stoned or drunk to care or even notice him. To act like he belonged, Mike took a drag on a hashish cigarette that was handed to him by an attractive-looking blonde who smiled at him. Having been in Vietnam and knowing about dope, he expertly inhaled and held his breath. A black butler walked toward him. Knowing the best defense is an offense, Mike turned to him and said, "A Scotch on the rocks." Bernard nodded. He acted like he belonged, therefore he belonged.
Above all, Mike tried to cool it. Everyone was gathered around what looked like a cushioned bed in a big semicircle, and he joined it, sitting next to the blonde on the floor in the semidarkness and not asking any questions, just making with the small talk and sipping his Scotch and smoking the hashish whenever it came around. In no time at all, he lost all sense of time and space. Colors had deepened and tne blonde next to him seemed all the more enticing.
It was apparent everyone was waiting for something. Whatever it was, Mike wasn't going to ask and give himself away. He would give the party a little time and then, if he hadn't seen Chet or Cynthia, he'd ask and then move on.
Right now Bernard was back by the wall, stripping to the waist and displaying a powerful and well-developed build. Mike watched him and decided that a man doesn't get that kind of build unless he spends a great deal of time working out with the barbells.
Back in the little bedroom, Chet and Cynthia were still smoking the hashish. Cynthia was well into her second Scotch on the rocks. "Take it easy with the booze," Chet warned, "nobody-likes to see a broad who's had too much."
"Only my second," she said. Drinking had now become a daily thing with her, heavy drinking that blotted out memories and helped her get to sleep at night. She twitched her hips at Chet, "Besides, I haven't had too much." She was beginning to feel in a good mood. This was to be their last evening in San Diego and she was happy to leave, happy to leave so many memories behind her.
"Come on," Chet said, finishing his drink. "Let's get out there. I really want you to turn them on, give them a show they'll never forget. Turn those women on. Make them insane with jealousy, make them eager to get out there and act like the whores they are!"
Cynthia always wondered about Chet whenever he made his little speech which he invariably did before she went out to earn him all kinds of money, while he stood and watched her perform with a sweaty little smile on his face. It was one of the amazing things about the relationship between Cynthia and Chet: he had never fucked her; he had never even tried nor did she think that she could ever tolerate it. She was glad that he never asked or tried or even brought the subject up. She didn't mind doing what he asked of her; even loved doing it in a perverse sick way that she knew would bring her to her own self-destruction, yet she felt driven and looked forward to wallowing in lewdness and seeing the looks on men's faces.
She came walking out into the dark room with a sure step that told everyone that something was about to happen. She sprawled lazily in the middle of the water bed and her body undulated and rocked in a slow rhythm, while she held one lacquered hand out for a cigarette.
It was obvious from the way her body moved under her miniskirt that she had removed all underwear. She was barefoot and her long, lovely legs were completely bare.
She looked around the room with a bored, glazed look. Actually, she couldn't see anyone outside the ring of the spotlight other than a halo. She was sure that Chet was standing off in some corner of the room, observing everything. Until her eyes grew more accustomed to the dark, everyone was a dark silhouette to her.
Mike recognized her as she walked right past him without him having to raise his head. In one way, it was good that he had smoked marijuana in Vietnam, for he was used to the reaction and still felt that he was able to function within the confines of the drug. In fact, the sight of his wife's shapely legs walking past him gave him such a shock that he sobered. He resisted calling out her name or doing anything. He felt as if he had been scalded with hot water when she sprawled on the water bed and laid there so lewdly ... like she never had for him. His jaw clenched and he curtly shook his head when offered more hashish by the blonde at his side.
Slowly, furtively, he began looking around, trying to spot Chet-Willy. He saw him standing with his back against the wall, a drink in his hand and a dreamy, drugged look on his face. Mike crouched down, hoping that Chet hadn't seen him. Slowly, he began to inch toward Chet, stopping now and then to watch his wife.
She smoked the cigarette happily and bounced on the bed. The wave-like motion of the water made her body seem all the more enticing as it rippled and undulated in a lazy motion not of her own making. With a lazy smile that allowed the tip of her wet tongue to slowly slide around her pulpy lips, she bent one knee slightly and let her hand trail down over one hip until her fingers stroked one thigh.
A hush came over the room. With her knee still bent, she let her hands stray upward to her shoulder straps which she pulled free with a languid motion. She was almost, but not quite, the professional stripper. Everyone immediately sensed that they were going to see something happen that was very different from a mere striptease. It was in her eyes, in her look, her very motions, and the way her hips rose and fell with the swelling of the water under her relaxed hips. Since Dan Hoagland, she had learned the trick of relaxing and learned it well.
His eyes narrowed, Mike inched closer to Chet.
Her long lovely legs held close together and her knees slightly bent, she slowly pulled up the hem of her miniskirt to reveal her naked hips. Gasps went around the room when it was seen that she wasn't wearing any underwear.
And Mike inched closer to Chet.
He stopped to admire his wife's hidden beauty, suggested by the wedge of downy, pubic hair that peeked out from under the dress. He froze as he suddenly saw the black form of Bernard the butler ease into the spotlight, naked to the waist and sit on the edge of the water bed, making it ripple and wave all the more, causing Cynthia's hips to pump, showing more of her mound of Venus to the room.
Mike thought, he's stripping her and he hasn't even touched her yet! The thought hit him like a thunderbolt and he was powerless to move as he watched the black butler sit next to his practically naked wife. Suddenly he realized, that man is going to make a pass at my wife and maybe even fuck her and I'm going to stand here and watch it. He was both fascinated and repelled by the idea. The more he thought of it-the more it became a reality to him-the more torn and powerless he became. He stood like a statue and watched. It was all he could do.
Bernard the butler smiled down at Cynthia. Moments before he had served her drinks, now he put out his hand and stroked her leg and thigh, giving her a hard, knowing smile. No matter how grand she looked, she was nothing more than he was, a servant, and they were going to humiliate one another for the amusement of their employers and love every minute of it.
She put her hand on Bernard's thigh and felt his hard muscles under his pants. This, she thought, was going to be a good beginning and maybe she could cum at least once with the butler before things got too far out. She let his black hand force its way between her legs and run up, parting her milk-white thighs until her cunt was exposed for everyone in the room to see.
Clenching his jaw and fists, Mike inched closer to Chet.
Chet leaned forward as a gasp and groan went up around the room as each and every one saw her hidden loveliness. He never tired of seeing her spread those long, lovely legs and exposing her cunt with its long moist slit, red and glistening from excitement.
He watched as Bernard got to his feet and with a look of contempt on his face, he began taking off his pants as Cynthia took it as her cue to wiggle out of her dress.
Mike froze again as he saw his wife lying naked before a crowd of strangers and saw the butler getting out of his pants, revealing the biggest prick he had ever seen. It was at least nine inches long and a good two inches thick and you could tell that it wasn't even beginning to swell.
One look on the face of Cynthia, when she saw the size of the cock, set the room on fire. She had never seen anything so big and it caused a tremor of fear to run across her face. Anything that size had to hurt.
With a cruel grin, leaving Cynthia to a fate he felt she was asking for and deserved, Mike swung around, blocking Chet's view. Chet started to step aside, then looked up and saw who was blocking his way. Before he could utter a word, Mike put a finger to his lips, warning him to silence. He motioned with his eyes which way they should go, toward a door through which Mike had come.
They stepped out into the cool night air. Chet was thinking fast, determining to leave rather than make a disturbance inside and risk earning his evening's money and feeling fairly sure he could talk Mike out of anything long enough for him to get away.
They walked down a path away from the house, neither saying a word. They stopped underneath a tree and Mike offered Chet a cigarette. Chet took it, feeling he had it made, feeling that he would talk his way all the way out, never realizing that the white cigarette was a slender target in the dark.
Mike moved close with a fighter's instinct and skill. He hit Chet a short jolting right to the stomach, feeling it give like a sack of loosely packed oats. Chet coughed and started to bend over. But not before Mike hit him with a murderous left hook, pivoting his body neatly and getting his weight behind it, using the cigarette as a target.
The result was Mike grimacing in pain and shaking his hand as he knew he'd broken several knuckles as Chet crumbled to the ground with an expensive dental bill forming in his mouth. Lifting him to his feet, Mike held him at arm's length with his battered left hand, measured him, and hit him on the nose with a hard right hand.
Chet put his hands to his face as he rolled across the lawn and let out a moan.
Mike followed him at leisure, picking him up and hitting him once more before dragging him to his knees and holding him by the lapels. "I'm going back inside. When I come out, if you're still here, I'm going to really work you over."
He let Chet flop to the ground in a bleeding, blubbering mess. He walked back toward the house, rubbing his knuckles. He had one more score to settle and he wasn't quite sure just how he was going to do it. Chet-Willy, whatever name he called himself, was through, finished, as far as he was concerned. His face would remind him, every time he looked in a mirror, of what might wait in store for him around any corner. His mouth would have to be reconstructed. He had paid enough.
But Cynthia. Cynthia was another matter entirely. He could guess at a lot that happened between her and Chet and he could forgive her a lot. But there was still a powerful lot she was responsible for: like what was going on inside at this very moment.
While Mike had insisted that Chet escort him outside, Cynthia had been lying naked on the water bed, staring up at Bernard standing above her, his cock huge and black, bigger than anything she had ever seen before. A thing like that was bound to hurt her, maybe even tear her. A prick that big was abnormal. And Bernard seemed to know it as he grinned down at Cynthia and saw her cower. It always excited him when women were afraid of his prick. It stood rigid and erect, flat against his belly, over nine inches long, swelling a good two inches more.
Women around the room who envied and were jealous of Cynthia's contours smiled maliciously when they saw Bernard's prick. This was going to be some fucking to see!
Naked, his prick held in one hand, Bernard knelt on the bed and his action caused a wave motion that forced Cynthia's buttocks up, then her waist, then her breasts. She kept her knees together and looked at Bernard with doubt and fear on her face. She shook her head in a quick brief no.
Bernard laughed and knelt over her on all fours, causing her body to swell on a wave beneath, raising her toward Bernard. She whispered, "No."
For an answer, Bernard let out a low rumble in his chest that burst into harsh cynical laughter. Roughly, one of his hands reached down to spread her knees. A hand reached into the circle of the spotlight and seized her ankle. Everyone watched, fascinated, as the hand drew her legs apart, revealing Cynthia's cunt to all the onlookers.
Other hands and arms slithered onto the bed, caressing her vulnerable flesh and seizing her other ankle and pulling it toward the edge of the bed. Cynthia was being split wide and unable to stop the motion. Other hands joined, seizing her legs with a fury and spreading them, then slowly forcing the knees to bend. There was an anger in the crowd now. She had come so far, been so tempting and sexual, she had enjoyed that, she wasn't going to back out now, not now when things promised to get hot. If she wouldn't do it, they would do it for her.
Bernard knelt between her legs and watched her huge breasts quiver and shake as she tried to struggle, but hands were holding her arms too. All she could do was twist and turn her torso in an effort to get free and say, "No, please," over and over through gritted teeth. With his black hands, Bernard cruelly tweaked the tender, turgid nipples of her breasts and heard her cry out in pain.
Despite her fear, Cynthia felt tremors of excitement and sensuality course through her body like molten lava pouring down the side of a mountain. Her breasts stood tall and firm as other hands reached out to massage and pinch them. Cynthia closed her eyes and let her mouth fall open as her head fell back and she wailed out a very unconvincing, "Nnnooo!"
With a tight, cruel smile, Bernard let his hand shift to her cunt and she leapt like a wild horse when his finger touched her cunt and rubbed her clitoris. She struggled, finding she could only rotate and grate her hips, which only added to her building excitement.
Ignoring her pleas and cries, he roughly massaged her clitoris into a swelling life of its own. Cynthia's movements on the water bed were involuntary now and, as she moved, only aided Bernard in his endeavors. His thumb ran down the length of her slit and he felt the gathering moistness there and he smiled that cruel, cynical smile again; he knew, despite herself, she was growing hot!
And it was true. Cynthia's head was thrown back now, exposing her long neck and her naked body pinned in place by so many hands. A deep moan came from her and those around the water bed when Bernard, using his thumbs, spread the glistening red lips of her cunt and everyone could see her excitement as a deep shudder ran through her body.
Spreading the vaginal lips with the thumb and forefinger of one hand, he used his other hand to rub the thick, flat head of his monster prick up and down her throbbing slit, moistening and lubricating the head. With a little smile, he placed the head against her cunt and gave a playful little shove with his hips and saw Cynthia wince. The walls of her cunt were not used to being so stretched.
A final plea wouldn't have done any good and Cynthia was well beyond any plea when Bernard stuck the head in. Everyone crowded around to see as her vaginal lips were stretched as far as they would go, turning white from the strain under the pubic hair.
With just a twitch of his strong hips, he made the head go in with a wet plopping noise and Cynthia's face contorted in real pain. Everyone crowded around the water bed could see that her cunt was stretched to the utmost as she was skewered on the great blood-filled head.
Changing the way he was kneeling, Bernard put his arms under Cynthia, wrapping them around her waist and pulling her up off the mattress, causing her hips to tilt and her breasts to bunch and fall back toward her face. She looked down between them and saw the shaft of his thick black cock poised like a battering ram.
From some invisible signal, he began fucking her and from the first thrust, everyone present could tell this was going to be a merciless fucking. Bernard really leaned into it, his lips mean, and Cynthia opened her eyes wide and screamed. Mike had slipped unobtrusively back into the house and stood by the back wall, massaging his knuckles, looking around to see if anyone noticed his quick and quiet entrance. No one seemed to notice him at all. He leaned against the wall and tried to catch his breath.
No matter what he saw now, some of the aggression and anger had flowed out of him, taken out on the hide of one Willy Catrano. No matter what he watched now of a servant fucking his wife in the most brutal manner he had ever seen, he could not well his anger up the way it was before. He wanted to do something to her, something to pay her back for all the worry and concern and final humiliation he had suffered to discover his wife was nothing more than a common slut. Something had to be done to her, but what?
He watched, drained, unthinking, as Bernard began to increase the rhythm of his fucking and his wife began to scream and plead for him to stop. Let her plead, for all he cared. He slumped against the wall, feeling a strange kind of horniness; the same kind of excited sexual feeling he got back in Vietnam whenever he shared a girl with another guy. There was something so goddam lewd and horny about it, even though it was his wife.
Bernard was beginning to feel his prick swell to its true size and strength as he sawed in and out of the poor girl's stretched cunt and she begged him to stop, her breath coming high and heavy. His only answer was to increase the tempo and depth of his brutal thrusts, plunging a little deeper into her ravaged cunt.
"Aaaaahhhhggggg! Stop! Please, OH GOD STOP!! ! " she begged, but Bernard only held her in an iron grip and began to fuck her harder, the head of his prick banging against her cervix, making her cry out and wince all the more.
Then there was an audible gasp coming from the more perceptive in the crowd and Mike leaned away from the wall in order to see what it was they all were staring at. To his amazement, he saw a change coming over Cynthia. She was still groaning, but no longer pleading and her groans and mews were of pure animal pleasure. As she quickly mounted toward her first cum, the signs of ecstasy were unmistakable on her face.
Suddenly Mike knew what he could do to get even with his wife as he watched her beginning to fuck for her life and enjoy it. Those fine hips and thin waist was pumping for all they were worth, begging for more of Bernard's prick. Very well, he'd fix her.
Quickly he stripped off his clothes and joined the group around the bed. Several of them were in various stages of undress. A real old-fashioned orgy was about to begin. "Turn her over," Mike shouted.
Both Bernard and Cynthia looked up for different reasons: Cynthia because she recognized the voice and her heart almost stopped in her throat and Bernard because he heard the tone of sharp command. A thin smile split Bernard's lips as he saw the naked man. Why not? Using all of his great strength, he rolled Cynthia over on top of him and they lay undulating, belly to belly with Cynthia's buttocks stretched wide and inviting to the viewers' eyes. Mike was on top of her instantly and the onlookers tensed as they realized they were going to see two men take Cynthia at once.
When she realized what her husband was going to do, when she realized that he wasn't going to kill her immediately, Cynthia heaved a huge grateful sigh. Anything would be better than death. When she realized what he was going to do with her, a whimper came into her voice. Below her, Bernard held her tight as hands dragged her legs apart again, exposing the puckered bud of her anal ring to everyone's view.
She had been so excited by Bernard's fucking near the end that some juice had trickled down and wet her anus and she had remembered it and now Mike cruelly stuck his finger in there, feeling it go in with a pop. Then he pulled it out and put the head of his own great prick against her anus as he knelt and dug his fingernails into her sides.
A long moaning, "Nnnooo!" came from deep within her. "Nnnooo, Mmmmmiikkkeee, pleeease!" she moaned and everyone knew she knew him.
With a malicious grin, Bernard shifted his grip to take hold of her buttocks and he spread them wide so that her anal ring stood out against the brutal blunt end of Mike's cock.
It was a strange kind of masochistic joy, perhaps from the very helplessness of her position or from the thought of being fucked half to death by two men at once like this. Her hips began to move backward to meet the up-thrust of Mike's cramming it into her rectum and then forward again to swallow the whole of Bernard's plunging cock into her suddenly hot steaming pussy. Her whole body undulated between them as the water bed rolled and waved beneath them and her buttocks moved in tiny abandoned circles.
Damn her! Mike thought, I'll make her pay. And he plunged his cock home and heard her scream as his mushroom head popped through the nether ring of her anus and into the soft pulpy skin of her rectum.
"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhgggggg," she screamed. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahggg! Oh God, keep ... keep on!" she gasped, eager for him to hurt her and, in some small way, repay for all that she had done wrong.
Mike pushed in deeper, feeling the shaft sink it, her anal ring like a tight rubber band around his prick. He thought for a moment that he wouldn't be able to stand the pain himself. But he pushed on, determined to fuck her deep into her ass. People crowded around and saw her tender rectal flesh cling to the shaft of his cock as though it didn't want to let it go, then they saw it roll in as Mike gave another brutal thrust home, while Bernard skewered her on his cock below.
Cynthia closed her eyes in bliss as she felt both her cunt and anus being ravaged and she knew that there was nothing else that could ever happen to her that would come as a shock or a surprise. She had experienced it all. She began moving her body in rhythm as she felt first Bernard then Mike cumming, pouring white-hot sperm into her belly and rectum, filling her with cum until she finally began to lose consciousness from the great fucking she was getting.