Chapter 7
They lay on the bed together, silent, smiling up at the ceiling, feeling deeply satisfied. "Baby, you got a future in front of you," he muttered.
Cynthia wanted to roll on her side, smile into his face, kiss him lightly, and ask just what he had in mind. But before she could say anything, there came a thumping at the door and a call. "Dan? Yo, Dan Hoagland! I know you're in there, you old sidewinder, and I want some of that action! Dan, you hear?"
The thumping and crashing continued until Dan got wearily to his feet and headed for the door, yelling, "All right, all right, I'm coming."
Cynthia's eyes grew wide and she looked around the room for her clothing, only to realize it was strewn all over and her dress was nothing but a torn rag thrown in a corner. The next best thing to do was scamper under the covers and hope that Dam could get rid of the noisy intruders without them coming in.
He didn't. Stark-naked, he was unbelievably casual as he unlocked the door and threw it open and let three men come into the room. All of them had obviously had too much to drink and all of them obviously knew Dan personally. One of them put his hands on Dan's broad bare shoulders and asked, "Oh man, where is she? What a build, what a build that broad has. Dan, where the hell did you find her?"
"Come on, Danny boy, if you ever want to do a picture for me again, just point the way, where is she?"
They came across the room laughing and staggering as Cynthia cowered under the blankets, not knowing what to do or say. Chet, oh, where in hell was Chet? she wondered. How did she get in such a mess and how did these men know she and Dan Hoagland were in this room? Perhaps the former couple had told. Yet, even now, as they were crowding around the bed, laughing, looking down at her, she remembered one of them just talking about her body. How could he know unless ... unless ... Cynthia put her hands over her eyes and didn't want to think of the possibilities.
They were around the bed now, laughing and talking. Surely Dan would lead them out, surely he would talk to them the quiet way he talked to men on the screen when he wanted them to do something. Dan was going to make them all leave. They would leave as they came, laughing and talking, and she would be alone with Dan and he would explain.
Nothing like that happened. Instead, Dan sat down on the bed next to her and Cynthia, with a small wail escaping her lips, pulled the covers up over her head and cowered, curling into a fetal position, trying to hide, wishing she could become invisible. "Hey, honey," she heard Dan softly drawl, "Honey, it's all right. These here are friends of mine. Come on out."
"Come on out, baby."
"Hey, Dan, what the hell is her name?"
"Cynthia."
"Hey, Cynthia," a voice close to her ear said, "Come on out, we been watching you on TV."
The sheet and blanket snapped down from Cynthia's face and her face was contorted by a very real anger as the enormity of what had happened to her began, like an iceberg, to come clear in her conscious mind. They had been watched!
Dan shrugged. "The fella that owns this little old. place is a funny fella and he's got the place all wired up. Hell, he might be watching us now."
"What kind of a place is this?" she demanded, her eyes wide.
"A swinging place. Before, I saw you admiring it all. Hell, come on, all he did was add a few toys. Wouldn't you if you had the money?"
"But we were watched!" she said, sitting up indignantly, forgetting in her rage that she was naked and that her lovely breasts, like rich overripe honeydew melons, were in full view of every lecherous gaze.
"You bet you were!" said the leader of the three; tall, heavy, tanned, middle-aged, but in great shape from many a daily workout. He leaned over the bed and winked at Cynthia. "Come on, we're not such bad guys. I make films. Both of my friends here are in films. Charlie is an agent. Look at yourself."
Cynthia looked down with a gasp to realize the cover and sheet had slid down to her waist. With an audible gasp, she cuddled the sheet around her breasts, their pointed pink nipples pressing against the stark-white sheet. She slipped back in the bed, trying to make herself as small as possible. "W ... what do you w ... want?"
All the men, including Dan, laughed. Dan rested his head next to hers, leaning his weight on his elbows and spoke in that low, gravelly voice she had heard in many a love scene in many a movie. "Now what did I tell you? Hey, filly, you listening to me? Cynthia, if you're listening to old Dan, you just nod your head. Come on, now, you can't hide forever and I want to talk to you. I think I can help you. If you hear me, nod your head."
Cynthia waited a moment before nodding her head.
"Thatta gal." His voice dropped lower, almost to a whisper, as if the words he had to say were only for her ear. "You remember that piece of advice I gave you? Remember what I said? Relax. It's the whole secret, the secret to everything. Relax and you got it made. Get tense and you're just gonna end up a frustrated housewife with a lot of guilty feelings. Relax. Now if you met these gentlemen out at the party, you wouldn't hide, would you? If you did, there would be something mighty wrong with you, yes sir. Now, all these gentlemen know something about you. They know a hell of a lot about me." There was a pause for general laughter and agreement. Apparently they all liked one another very much.
"Now you can hide under there and make a scene and carry on and go home miserable, or you can relax and meet these gentlemen and have some story to tell your grandchildren or you can meow and spit and raise holy hell.
"It's all up to you, really. The smart thing to do is come out, make friends, then find out just how and what these fine old hell-raisers know."
Dan made such sense it hurt. Besides, he was so damn charming about the whole thing. A moment ago she was raving mad and now she was on the defensive, uncertain what to do. She knew, somehow, someway, she had been taken advantage of and deep down, it caused a seething resentment. It also added a goodly dollop of sexual excitement, a feeling of smuttiness, and-age old in women-a deep feeling of curiosity.
The sheet came down from her head and Cynthia, her face grave, looked around at the three grinning men and naked Dan, who was pulling on his underwear and grinning at her. She tried hard to smile. "All right," she said in a quavering voice, still not quite understanding why she should be on the defensive, "just who are you?"
They laughed and one, the biggest one, turned to Dan and said, "She's got spunk." He smiled down at Cynthia and she had to admit he was not unattractive. "My name is Bill Chambers and I make movies. This is Buck Cunningham, a writer, and Maury Landon, an agent, a flesh peddler. And now that you know who we are, what's your name and what do you do?"
"My name in Cynthia Barret and I'm a housewife," she whispered back, blushing, thinking of how it must sound, how immoral she must appear to be. Just a dumb little housewife out looking for some cheap thrills and in over her head. She was sure they were thinking that of her.
"Cynthia," Bill said, "You are no ordinary housewife."
The words seemed to reassure her and the deep rosy blush that had mounted in her started subsiding as Bill, big Bill, went on. "Since you're honest with us, I'll be honest with you. We saw you on closed circuit TV. The owner of this house has it in every room. Hell, everybody knows. Usually, it's all part of the kicks."
"Well, I didn't know about it," Cynthia said, not without some resentment creeping in her voice.
Bill clucked his tongue as Maury and Buck agreed. "You should have been told. That's not fair. Dan, you old devil, why didn't you tell the lady?"
Dan scratched his head and said, "I was gonna do it, then things got hot and heavy and hell. You saw what kind of a body she has. Take a look!" Dan suddenly reached forward and snatched the sheets away from her. She cried out and Dan lifted his eyebrows and said, "Relax, hell, girl, you got a beautiful body! Relax!"
She looked around at the men as if they were mad. She tried her best to cover her nakedness with her arms and apprehension shuddered through her. What did they think she was? She was no common whore who could be had by just any man. What did they think they were going to do?
Buck Cunningham offered her a drink and she gratefully took it and gulped down the vodka. Maury sat on the edge of the bed and said, "Maybe we could have ourselves a little party with this young lady. I've brought along my girl friend," he added, putting his hand in a pocket.
"Who?" Bill asked.
"Mary Jane," Maury said as they all laughed and he pulled out a neatly but ' obviously home-made cigarette.
Cynthia looked questioningly at Dan.
"Marijuana. Pot. Grass. You've heard of it. It won't hurt you any."
"What will it do to me?" she asked.
"Worse thing is getting locked up in the slammer if you got caught. Best thing and the thing most-likely to happen is that you'll get turned on."
"And what does that mean?" she asked.
For an answer, the four men plied her with booze and puffs on the marijuana "joint" that they passed around.
Soon, Cynthia found herself in an amazingly befogged state of relaxation and she kept asking what time it was and was always amazed when they gave her the answer. It seemed like hours were going by and there was so much talk when just minutes had slipped by.
She was naked, brazenly naked on a bed with three strangers and one man she had just gotten through making love to. So many words were being said as she drank from the glasses they offered her. "Orgy." Had she heard the word used? She was nodding agreement to something and big Bill Chambers was getting out of his clothes and he had the biggest prick Cynthia had ever seen and it was swelling rapidly as he undressed and got on the bed and lay on his back.
Hands were all over her body now and they were lifting her and she found herself kneeling, straddling Bill Chambers big body, and she felt her hand being guided to his cock and Dan's reassuring voice saying, "Relax, just relax."
A chill and shudder went through her as she realized what was happening to her. Chet, she wondered vaguely, where was Chet. Later, much later, she was to think of her husband Mike and admit to herself, with shame, that, at that moment, that lewd thrilling moment when her hand closed on the thick throbbing hardness of Bill Chambers' prick, then, she didn't think of her husband. She didn't think of anything but the thrilling fact that Buck was fondling her breasts in a most exciting way and Maury had his hands around her slim waist and she was kneeling, straddling Bill Chambers' torso, stark-naked, his huge prick in her right hand.
Her cunt was split wide and gaping. Around the pink slit were the swollen pubic hair-covered vaginal lips. A shudder went though her body that made her pump her hips obscenely and she heard and felt the reaction of the men in the room and she liked it. liked it? She loved it! She loved being the center of attention and seeing and hearing the men get excited. Above all, she liked feeling the jerk and the hard swelling that occurred in Bill's prick as she squeezed it.
A shudder ran through her. It was deep within her, she knew, yet there were long nights when she went to bed alone, with Mike off in Vietnam and her being a good military wife, and she would lie awake late, wondering what it would be like to be a prostitute, whore, or slut. Sometimes, when her body was flinching and she was dropping off to sleep, sometimes, her unencumbered brain would think it wasn't a bad thing, that it was something she would, just once, before she died, like to try. Just once act like a whore.
Now that chance was real. Or was it? She'd had so much to drink and been talked into smoking that marijuana, that now nothing seemed real. And yet it did. Too real.
With both her hands, she held Bill Chambers' great prick straight up while he groaned with pleasure. Pumping her hips slowly and obscenely, she ran the huge head the length of her vaginal slit and felt the moisture building there. Someone was cupping her buttocks in his hands. Buck was still caressing her breasts and pinching her nipples into a livid taut life and she felt lewdness running through her body like a sweet electricity and she curled and pumped her hips in rhythm to the feeling in her body.
Men were laughing and giggling and Bill was moaning as she slipped and slid the thick blood-throbbing head of his huge prick up and down the full length of her pussy. Using her vaginal muscles to the upmost, she spread the lips of her cunt so that it gaped and surrounded the head on three sides and he leaped-twitched-whenever she tensed her vagina around the head.
Back and forth she slipped it until she felt huge, rough hands around her waist, forcing her to squat down more. She gasped, feeling all the hands caressing and guiding her body, and feeling strong arms pushing her down on a cock bigger than she'd ever had before. It spread her cunt as wide as it would go and she winced against the anticipated pain. She had never dreamed that she would ever see a penis that size, yet here she was, and the head was spreading her cunt as wide as possible. She hesitated and heard the voice of Dan chuckling and saying, "Relax, just relax."
She tried to relax and found that she could and soon she relaxed her vaginal muscles and felt the head slip into her cunt with a lubricated, plopping sound. She grew giddy with excitement and pain as she sunk down over his sheath and felt it rolling back and protruding that great blood-filled head deeper into her cunt.
She was going to have to do the work. She was going to have to ride up and down on that great prick like she would on a roller coaster. Same thrill, only at the end of the ride there was ecstasy waiting. She began to pump her hips lewdly, abandoned, indifferent to what anyone thought or felt. Her insides were a boiling cauldron of desire: the awful, overwhelming desire to be shamed, to be humiliated. Something in her mind thought it would be all the more exciting in front of witnesses!
Yes! That was it! Someone to watch her do obscene things, someone to demand them of her and then watch, someone to hurt her, whip her, and make her do his will. She hissed aloud with her hidden desire and pumped up and down lewdly, her loins moving cat-like as she took the great shaft into her cunt and enjoyed the pain.
Buck Cunningham was still caressing her breasts and one fevered glance over her shoulder told her that it was Maury who was so expertly tickling her buttocks and toying with her anus in a suggestive way. She turned back to receive Buck Cunningham's hot open mouth on hers and she threw her arms around his neck and shot her tongue into his mouth as she pumped up and down on Bill Chambers lying beneath her.
Then Buck was pulling himself away from her and was standing up on the bed and tearing his clothes off until he stood straddled, his cock in his hand, moving toward Cynthia's head as she raised to watch and see him take her head in his hand, tangling his finger in her hair and forcing her head back and her mouth open. With his other hand, he rubbed the rubbery-hard head of his prick on her soft moist lips. Her hands flew to it immediately and she opened her mouth in masochistic delight and took his shaft, in, her lips closing tautly, like rubber bands around the hard swelling of it.
Maury was now naked and was reaching around and caressing her breasts from behind. She could feel the length of his stiff prick in the small of her back as he pressed his body against hers. Cynthia closed her eyes and tried to relax.