Chapter 5
THUNDERBIRD MOTEL, read the sign. Ann glanced nervously at her watch. Almost two-thirty. She was going to be on time.
On time for what? she wondered, as she pulled her little red Datsun into the parking lot. She thought she knew, and the knowledge made her stomach tie itself into a knot of fear.
Abuse. Degradation. Rape. That's what Ann Forester was keeping her appointment with.
And there was not one thing in the whole world she could do about it.
Burt Coulson had those pictures. Those graphically, intimately detailed photographs of her fucking her own nephew. If they ever got out, it would be the end for Ann. Her career would be ruined. More than that, her relationship with her sister and her husband would be destroyed.
She wouldn't have a job or a roof over her head.
One thing Ann wasn't worried about, though. She knew Burt and his friends wouldn't do her any physical harm.
No. Ann had a feeling they had plans for her. Plans that would call for the lithe, long-limbed young widow to be in perfect physical condition.
Ann shuddered. Room 155. Around toward the back. There were only a few cars parked along the front of the row of motel rooms. There was an open space right in front of 155. How considerate, Ann thought bitterly.
Next to her as she pulled into the parking place was a car she recognized as belonging to Burt. A Mercedes, one of the long, low, sporty ones, of a dark green color. Ann wondered why she hadn't seen it the day before. Burt had probably parked a few blocks away and walked to the Johnson's house.
A lot of planning had gone into snaring her, Ann realized.
There was no delaying it any longer. She got out of the car, self-consciously pulling the hem of her blouse down over her slacks. Then she turned, set her prim jaw, and marched to the door of Room 155.
The door opened to her knock. Burt stood there. When he recognized her he glanced at his watch and grinned his big slow grin.
"Well, you are right on time," he said. "Come on in and meet the boys."
The "boys" were two other men around Burt's age. One of them was a tall, lanky, weasel-faced individual named Bob Varman, who was the business manager of the air service her husband had once owned. The other man was Jack Western, a compact man with a thin moustache and pale eyes. He was a pilot with the company. Ann knew both of them. She also knew that Western had a shady reputation that her husband had laughed off when hiring him.
"I don't give a damn about his past," Roger had said. "All that matters to me is that he can fly, and damned well."
Right now, Ann wished Roger had been more concerned.
With a sinking feeling, Ann noticed that all three men were wearing robes, the kind someone wore out to the pool. Burt and Jack had wet hair and had probably been for a dip in the spring sunshine. But Ann had no illusions about why the men were dressed that way.
It made it easier for them to undress and try her out.
Her suspicions were confirmed almost immediately. Closing the door behind him, carefully locking it and securing the chain as he did so, Burt said, "Since I tried her on yesterday, I'll give you guys first crack at her. I'll take pictures."
The burly man walked over to a table and picked up an expensive-looking Nikon camera. It had a slave flash attachment. "Okay," he told Ann. "Take off your clothes."
Ann stood without moving. Burt set the camera down and sat on the corner of the table. "Now look," he said reasonably, lighting a cigarette he took from a pack in the pocket of his robe, "you know you don't have any choice in this deal. If you're a good girl we'll cut you in on some of the take. But you have to do like we say, or we start sending copies of those photos to people."
"What do you want?"
"That's better," nodded Burt. "Bob and Jack are going to try you out-we don't like to merchandise an item unless we've tried it out personally."
"You-you're running a call girl operation?"
Burt nodded. "Since after your old man bought it in that accident, we've branched out. It's a profitable racket. Our clients are willing to pay for their kicks, and we give them the best for their money." He took a long drag on his cigarette. The tip glowed ominously in the gloom. "That's why the camera. We like to be able to show what our girls look like, and what they can do. Also, of course, they'll be added insurance against your getting any cute ideas. Now strip!"
Ann obeyed. Her long brown hair was done up in a bun at the back of her neck. She pulled out the bobby pins and shook it free, cascading down over her shoulders. Then she reached down and pulled the tight blouse off over her head.
For a moment she stood with the blouse over her arms, covering her ample tits. The men were watching her attentively. It made her skin crawl. There had been so many times she had made a production of undressing for Roger, turning it into a long, sensuous striptease until his cock was ragingly hard and he took her so violently that she wept with pleasure.
Now she just wanted to die.
Ann discarded the blouse and reached hesitantly behind herself. Burt was still sitting and smoking on the corner of the table. The other two were in chairs, and both leaned forward now. She gulped, and undid her bra.
The cups fell away to expose the globes of pure white flesh. The icy breeze from the air conditioner goose-pimpled the titflesh and made her ripe nipples harden. The little cherries stood up invitingly in the middle of the silver-dollar-sized brown patches.
"Nice," Varman muttered.
"Those are damn big tits," agreed Jack, licking his lips. "But, oh, so firm." There was a noticeable bulge at the crotch of his robe.
The heavy, shapely jugs swung gracefully as Ann slid her slacks down her long, slender legs. Then she threw back her head defiantly and stripped off the panties.
The men's eyes widened at the treasures exposed to their lusting gaze. The mound of Ann's cunt was rich and full, forested with a crinkly mat of chestnut hair. The pink lips of her pussy peeked deliciously through her bush.
Behind her, Burt smiled around his cigarette as his eyes devoured the spectacle of Ann's bare ass. The way the firm, ripely-rounded half moons worked together as she lifted first one foot and then the other to step out of the undergarment was enough to make a man want to lay down and die. His cock sprang to attention, rock-hard and demanding beneath his robe. Ignoring its greedy hunger, he put the cigarette down in an ashtray and picked up the Nikon.
Varman had gotten up from his chair and now stood before Ann. She was rigid, arms at her side, looking like an impossibly lovely statue. Varman opened his belt and shrugged off his robe. When it hit the floor, he kicked it aside.
It was no surprise to Ann that the skinny accountant was naked beneath. It was still less of a surprise that he had a hard-on. His cock was long and skinny. Under other circumstances Ann would have appreciated its seven inches or so of throbbing meat. Not now.
A spider-like hand cupped a plentiful boob. Splaying fingers caught a nipple between them, squeezed it gently. Despite herself, Ann felt pleasure well out from her tit and stirring in the dank recesses of her pussy.
Bob's other hand closed over her cunt-mound. The hair was rough and crisp under his palm. He massaged Ann's pliant flesh at boob and crotch. Pearly teeth made half-moons as she bit her lip. It did feel good.
The slender cock burned like a torch in the space between their bodies. Ann could feel its heat. Blue light flared as Burt snapped his first picture.
A finger slid with delicious slowness into Ann's pussy. It went in all the way as Bob continued to knead the mound of her cunt. Then he pulled it out again. It was dripping wet with cunt juice.
"Mmmmm, not bad," Bob said. She sure gets hot fast." Without ceremony he lay down on his back, his prick standing up from his groin.
"There it is, lady, he said. "Just take a seat."
Ann's breath caught in her throat. There was no choice. She straddled his lean belly, dropped to her knees.
The conical head of the rampant cock poked into the forest at Ann's crotch. Bob put his hands behind his neck and grinned at her. The old-fashioned horn-rimmed glasses made his eyes look twice as big as normal.
Ann wriggled her hips until she felt the warmth and hardness of the cockhead at the portal of her cunt. She reached down and held the pussy lips apart while the other hand grasped Bob's prick to guide it. She could feel his heartbeat throbbing in a vein in his cock.
The camera flashed several times as the gloriously padded asscheeks slid down the straining length of cock. It took a long time, and by the time Ann's cunt mouth splayed to brush the furry base of Bob's cock Ann was rolling her ass in honest pleasure. Her tits jiggled as she ran her fingers through her long, long hair and tossed her head.
Those big pale hands took hold of Ann's sides and drew her down. Ann was grateful the accountant didn't try to kiss her. She buried her face in his neck. Just enjoy it, girl, she told herself. There's no getting out of it, and it feels good. So let it.
With her forearms resting on the thin carpet to either side of Bob's torso, Ann began to fuck herself on his prick. It was a nice, long cock, and when she lowered her ass to take it all in it seemed to go on and on forever. Bob's hands held her butt now, pulling her down harder and harder as he pushed up with his hips.
In a matter of seconds Ann was fucking in earnest, not paying attention to the constant flashing of the camera. Since she had decided to shut her mind to her situation and concentrate on pleasure, all that existed for Ann was Bob's cock and her oily, slithering cunt sucking it into her with nasty wet noises. Her nipples were hard as marbles now, burning into the sparse hair on Bob's chest. The hair grated deliciously on the nipples.
"That's good," Bob murmured, nibbling at her ear. "Your cunt is hot and wet and tight. I like 'em that way!"
"Your cock feels so good in me! Stick it up my pussy! It's long and hard-shove it up my dripping cunt!"
The months without a man were still telling on Ann. It may have been rape, but it was fucking, and she'd been without that for too long!
Cunt juice splashed as they fucked. The fragrant fluid splattered over Bob's hips, thighs, and belly, and turned his crotch and Ann's into a dripping furrow of churning sexuality.
Neither one noticed Jack, naked, walk up and kneel down behind Ann with his legs wide apart to straddle Bob's thighs and Ann's calves. Burt did, though, and the camera took it all in. He moved to the side, down on one knee for a better shot of the action. His own hard prick, throbbed painfully, but he ignored it.
"Fuck me, big Bob," Ann was pleading. "Let me have every inch of your cock! I'm so wet, I'm so hungry. My pussy is so hungry. Fuck my needy pussy!"
"You said it!" gasped Bob. the carpet was rasping his ass as he corkscrewed his cock in and out of that grasping cunt, but he couldn't have cared less. His ex-boss's widow was giving him the riding of his life!
In position, Jack took hold of his cock with one hand. He aimed it carefully. Ann's ass was churning madly and pumping frantically up and down as she fucked herself into a frenzy. He had to time it right.
Working his camera, Burt grinned to himself.
"Fuck me! Harder, harder! Fuck me, fuck me, oh, Jesus!" The last was a wail of sheer agony forced out of Ann's lungs by six inches of iron-hard cock being rammed to the hilt in her unlubricated asshole. Jack's strong hands clasped her waist as Ann threw back her head to shriek with agony.
"No! Nooooo! It hurts, it hurts! It's tearing me apart! Stoooopppppp!"
"SHHHHITTTTT!" yelled Bob. His hips bucked his ass six inches off the carpet, lifting Ann and pulling several inches of Jack's prick out of her unwilling ass.
"CHRIST! I'M COOOMMMINNNGGG!" Bob roared. The sudden contraction of Ann's belly muscles as Jack fucked his prick into Ann's butt, plus the odd slithering feeling on his cunt-wrapped cock as Jack's prick invaded the woman's asshole, was too much for him to take. His prick gave three sudden spurts of jizz to Ann's still-clenched cunt before his ass fell back to the carpet.
Thin arms locked around Ann's shoulders as Bob fucked her with all the violence of an unbelievable orgasm. She could feel his cum searing the walls of her pussy like acid. But it was nothing like the searing from Jack's dry cock corn-holing her butt!
Trapped, the woman thrashed like a netted eel. Her squirming and thrashings threatened to wrench Bob's spasming cock inside her cunt. The thin, dark-haired man's eyes were closed as he moaned and shot his load in spurt after spurt.
Meanwhile, Jack was plugged into the wildest hole he'd ever had his cock in. Ann jumped around as though she were being electrocuted. He didn't even try to pump her. Her wild hip action was doing it all for him.
"God it hurts!" Ann screamed. "Get it out! Get your cock out of my ass, please, please. B-Bob, you're coming! You're spurting cum up my pussy! But it hurts, it hurts-oh, it feels good! Fuck me, fuck me up the cunt! I want to come!"
The pleasure and pain were twisting Ann's body and mind. The still-fountaining cock in her twat was heaven, the one up her butt was sheer hell.
The result was the most overwhelming climax the woman had ever experienced.
It rolled up her spine and blew out the top of her head like a runaway locomotive. Just as Bob thought he didn't have a single drop more of come to contribute to the torrent washing out of the flooded, rank cunt, a steel vise tightened around his trapped prick and set off a brand new series of explosions. His eyes were shut and skyrockets went off in his brain.
Jesus, I don't even believe this! thought Burt. What a show! What a set of pictures!
Jack's knuckles were white as he fought to keep his grip on the woman's writhing body. Sweat stood out on the tanned back and pale buttocks alike.
The small, sturdy man felt as if he'd stuck his cock into a garbage disposal. Ann's wild exertions ground the dry-hot channel of her asshole torturously around his cock. He felt sure it was being ground and burned into a nubbin. But he couldn't have cared less! He was loving every second of it.
"I'm commmiiinnnggg!" moaned Ann. "I hurt, but I hurt so good-oh, God, oh, Roger-oh, FUUUUCCCCKKKK MEEEE!"
Ann's voice rose to a scream of ecstasy. Her asshole on fire and her cunt exploding, she was overwhelmed by the volcanic force of her orgasm. Her slender fingers clawed the carpet as she surrendered totally to the fucking of her ass and pussy!
At last, exhausted, Bob let his butt drop back to the floor. Though his utterly spent prong was deflating rapidly, Ann still screwed herself on it, her butt rolling around and around Jack's cock impaling her from behind. She was whimpering incoherently now, making small wanton sounds of passion.
An iron hand closed in Jack's guts. His imprisoned cock gave one big throb and spat jism into Ann's still-moving butt.
"Oh, Christ!" Jack gritted. He was helpless to move. He wanted to start fucking that lively round ass for all he was worth, but it was as if he were stuck in a trap. Or a milking machine, as the crushing muscles in Ann's butt sucked spurt after creamy spurt from his prick.
He could feel cum spraying out in torrents from the head of his cock. Liquid fire ran in the veins of his prick. This was incredible! It was as if his orgasm were paralyzing, him.
With the Nikon photographing his every move, Jack put his palms against the rounded globes of Ann's ass and pushed. He literally had to strain, gritting his teeth as he pulled out. And still his prick came shooting his creamy jism into Ann's butt!
Finally Jack's cock came free with a loud pop. Ann cried out, whether with pain or disappointment or both, no one in the room could have told. Jack thrust his hips forward. The underside of his rigid prick slid along the crack of Arm's ass. It throbbed, once, twice, three times. White gobbets spit from the tip and splattered the upturned buttocks, white on white.
"Fantastic!" enthused Burt. "Incredible. Just fucking incredible. We'll have customers around the block once we start showing them these pictures!" For good measure he snapped another couple of pictures of Jack's dropping cock and Ann's come-splashed ass, then he set the camera down. His own robe fell to the floor.
"One of you guys take over the camera," he said breathlessly. "It's my turn for some fun. And boy, am I ready!"
Jack stood up unsteadily and stepped back. Ann rolled off Bob's limp form and looked up at Burt. He loomed over her, his giant cock jutting proudly from under his pot belly.
The afterglow of her wonderful climax ebbed from the young widow. She had to take in that huge cock. She had to make it spray its white load into her body.
She had to do it again and again. Not just for Burt and his partners. For anyone they told her to. And there was no way to refuse, no way to escape.
Was this going to be the rest of her life?