Chapter 1

Professor Neubarth settled himself deeper into the stained, overstuffed sofa. He tried to close his ears to the clanging music, and to the shrieks of gaiety around him. It had been a mistake to come to this party; he was sure of that now. He tried to avert his face even more completely from the madly pulsating groups of people who were doing some kind of dance in front of the couch, and indeed, in all parts of the room.

What lapse of one's logical processes might induce a solidly married, forty-five-year-old college instructor to attend one of these idiotic affairs? He thought about it, remembering how one of his students, Marnie Croft, had knocked at the door of his office early that afternoon. He had just returned from a lengthy coffee-drinking session in the teacher's lounge, and was thinking about correcting the exam papers from his English 1A class. When he heard that rapping sound on his door, he had responded immediately by calling, "Come in!" He was secretly eager to postpone his duties for as long as possible.

Marnie Croft was a junior, and he had her in his American Literature class. She was tall, about five feet eight, had dark brown hair that had been bobbed into a pageboy cut, and her figure was simply incredible. As she had entered the room, his eyes had riveted almost automatically on her blouse. The size of Marnie's breasts were, Professor Neubarth suspected, the subject of continual panted whispers and sidelong leers among the male students. Her breasts filled every blouse or dress he had seen her in almost to the bursting point.

On that occasion, she had come in almost apologetically, and at his invitation, had sat down in an armless wicker chair near the wall to his right. Her entire blouse had moved upward, then dropped dramatically downward as she took her seat. He couldn't remove his eyes from the flowered fabric, behind which the heavy flesh continued to sway about even after she had been seated for a minute or two.

"Well, Marnie. What can I do for you?" He lifted his eyes, reluctantly, to meet those of the girl.

She was looking at him questioningly. He felt a flush start, then recede before it could have caused his face to become noticeably reddened.

"I'm worried about that essay I wrote for you, Professor Neubarth. I just don't think I took enough time with it." Her tone was subdued, and she spoke rapidly, as though she were eager to confess her supposed incapable handling of the essay material.

"Oh, Marnie," he said with a smile, "I don't think you have to worry about your work. Everything I've seen of yours has been written excellently. You're a very intelligent girl."

Her face exploded into a wide grin. She murmured her thanks for his compliment and, relaxing, crossed her legs. He saw the dark top of her stocking and an inch or two of white thigh which had been exposed by her legs' angle under the short skirt. His mind clicked like something mechanical as his imagination played with questions of whether her pants were black or white, and what color the thatch beneath the silken covering might be. Most probably dark brown, like her short hair, he decided. How revolting, he thought. He passed his hands before his eyes, and settled back in his desk chair.

"I really came here," she said, "to ask if you might be interested in coming to a little gathering we're having this evening." She hurried on: "We're going to get together, myself and several of my friends, and talk about the new French novel — you know, Robbe-Grillet, Pinget, and the like. We really would love to have you there." She smiled at him.

Now, here is a problem, thought Professor Neubarth. He was aware that most of his students probably thought him an instructor of almost Olympian detachment. He had done nothing to dissuade them from thinking so. In fact, he had rarely indulged in any sort of conversation that was not directly in line with his lecture material. He suddenly realized that Marnie was only the third or fourth student to visit him in his office all term. He looked at her. She was smiling, her lips curled away from her very white teeth. My God, he thought, I'm only forty-five.

"Very well, Marnie. I'd be most happy to attend your ... gathering."

She jumped up, and her breasts jumped in a separate motion and bobbed violently. He felt his throat tighten.

"That's wonderful, Professor Neubarth." She said exuberantly. "We'll have tea and cupcakes, and maybe even cocktails. Eight o'clock. 414 Oak Street, apartment two. Okay?"

He nodded as she departed with a little wave of her hand, grinning rapturously. He remained seated after she had left, thinking about his decision. Surely it wouldn't do him any harm to be convivial for a change. He thought of Marnie's burgeoning young body, of how her buttocks had jutted against her skirt as she had left the office. He thought of Louise, his wife, and envisioned her undressing for bed, partly concealed behind their bedroom closet door. Her breasts are like beanbags, he thought. And she doesn't have much of an ass at all anymore. He glanced at his watch. Almost time for the next class. He gathered up his papers, stuffed them into his briefcase, and headed for the door.

So here I am, he thought. He looked around, peering through the gaps caused by the crowd's constantly milling activity. Marnie was nowhere to be seen, and her bodily construction was distinctive enough to make her identifiable even if only partly glimpsed. Suddenly, on his left, he heard the words, "Professor Neubarth." He looked up to see Marnie standing just beside him, holding two drinks. She offered him one and he accepted it, motioning with his glass a request for her to sit down beside him. She sat down and began to speak rapidly. "Oh, I'm sorry. I really didn't know that all these people would be here tonight. My roommate arranged a party without telling me about it." She looked like she had had a little too much to drink. Her hair was disheveled, and the top two buttons of her blouse were undone. Neubarth could see the foothills of her great breasts beginning almost at her collarbone, and swelling out downward until they finally disappeared behind the cloth of her still confining blouse. Looking at that blouse, he saw the little knots of her nipples pressing the cloth still further out beyond the colossal mounds of her breasts. She wears no bra, he thought. Surely she must realize how unusually proportioned she is, and how freely the lack of a bra will cause her breasts to vibrate with her movement.

Neubarth sipped his drink. It was straight bourbon. He drank only scotch and soda, so he sat the glass on the floor. He was about to turn back towards Marnie when a mighty blast of music shook the room. He looked in her direction anyway, to see that she had collapsed back against the cushions with her eyes closed. He glanced towards the origin of the musical outburst. Someone had moved the kitchen table out into the middle of the living room floor, and a girl, assisted by a dozen hands, was struggling to climb on top. She made it and stood up, just as a record that had just been placed on the stereo began a slow, lilting, and very suggestive rendition of "Fever." She swayed slowly from side to side, in time with the music, and, smiling broadly, touched the buttons of her dress.

Neubarth scooped up his previously rejected whiskey glass and moved forward, elbowing aside members of the tightly packed audience, until he stood against the table edge itself. The girl was directly before and above him. Her dress was unbuttoned down to her navel now, and she wore no slip. Neubarth swallowed a mouthful of bourbon, scarcely noticing its strong, sweet taste. A large mustachioed fellow beside him was yelling, "Off ... off ... off!" over and over again, and the others were shouting too, mostly variations on the stripjoint cry of "Take it off!"

The girl on the table rolled her hips wildly, then bent forward and shook her upper body violently, so that the gap in her unbuttoned dress widened out to her shoulders. Then, still moving her feet in time to the music, she slid her arms out of the dress sleeves, and slowly slipped the rest of the garment down the soft angles of her body, her mouth no longer smiling, but rounded, as though with excitement. As she moved, she regarded the audience through partially closed eyes, and Neubarth thought that he could hear little sighing sounds issuing from her open mouth. He finished his drink in one gulp, dropped his glass to the carpet, and immediately felt another being pressed into his hand. He didn't look for the donor.

The girl's hands were behind her back now, and she continued to shake her body so that the loose flesh of her inner thighs trembled at a fantastic rate of speed. Her stomach jiggled too, and the tops of her breasts, which she was trying to free from the constriction of her black bra. Neubarth's eyes were fastened on the bulging crotch of her panties. She bent low, almost touching the table top with her long, dark hair, and when she was upright again the black bra was in her hands. In time with a faster record, which had been started on the stereo, she began to rotate her upper body, so that the dark nipples of her newly exposed breasts were making little circles in the air. She bent backward until her hands touched the table behind her, not relenting in her jerking motions even as her body formed a bridge, and Neubarth could still see, though from an unusual angle now, the meat of her white mounds quivering frenetically. But her strained, silk-sheathed groin area was right before his eyes. He could see, above the still quaking flesh of her thighs, little curls of dark pubic hair protruding from the edges of her white panties and licking at the inner surfaces of her widespread legs.

Suddenly she stood up, grinned at the crowd, and, perspiring heavily, gathered up her bra and dress. She tried to climb down from the table, but a chorus of male voices insisted that she continue. She stood there for a moment, looking inquisitive, and raised her hands, palms upward, as if asking, "What else?" Many index fingers pointed at her remaining article of underwear, and the voices came: "The pants!"

"Take off your pants"

"Show us the hairy animal!"

"Beaver, give us a beaver!"

She stood as if pondering these suggestions, then motioned towards someone near the stereo. Another instrumental piece began, this one not as fast as the one before. She danced with complete abandon, ignoring the fact that she was fatigued, jumping up, spinning in the air, and landing with her feet wide apart. She stopped abruptly and asked if someone would give her a drink. Neubarth instantly extended his hand up to her, offering her his own drink. She took it, and he looked around for another. Someone gave him one, which he immediately quaffed. When he turned back to watch the dancer, she had already emptied her glass, and was moving sinuously once again, her thumbs now hooked into the waist-band of her sweat-streaked panties. She wasted no time, but pulled out at the elastic and then pushed the flimsy garment down her legs, stepping out of it as the silk rumpled about her feet. She twisted back and forth energetically, doubling her body back once again and lowering herself slowly to form the same muscular bridge that she had earlier.

About three feet before Neubarth's face was the black triangle of the girl's pudendum, its pubic hair tightly curled and shining as though with dampness. Neubarth felt his penis rising into erection. He dropped his hand to the front of his pants, and grasped his member tightly, feeling it pulse regularly beneath his touch. Her bodily span accomplished, the dancer widened her legs even further, while continuing to gyrate with the music. Within the dark hair of her distended groin, lips parted and a glistening pinkness appeared. She jerked up and down in a copulatory motion. Behind her stood a redheaded youth who was smiling intently into Neubarth's eyes.

Neubarth's mouth felt like a sandpile, and his head spun. He was aware of a low moan escaping from his throat, and he threw aside the couple in front of him, grabbed at the table edge, and shoved his face into the wet recess between the dancer's trembling thighs. He was quickly overcome by an all-pervading fishy smell, but ignoring it, he stuck his tongue into the wetness of the gaping orifice.

There was a powerful pressure on his shoulders, and he was whirled backward until he fell in sitting-down position onto the floor. Looking up through swirling rings of cigarette smoke, he could see dim figures towering around and above him, their vagueness augmented by the swirling in his own head. He heard a titanic roar, which he finally recognized as general and unbridled laughter. He turned his head, and saw the dancer standing completely nude on the table. She was laughing hilariously, her head thrown back in exhilaration. All of the people who stood about were laughing down at him, too.

He clambered to his feet and ran for the door, the gleeful people parting as he ran through them. He got to the apartment door, grappled with the doorknob, then threw himself out into the coolness of the night.

He was standing just outside the main doorway of the administration building two days later. The first day after the party, he had pleaded that he felt feverish, and had allowed his wife to make a call to the head of his department, asking that he be excused from his classes for the day. His wife had nursed him faithfully.

Memories of the party came back to him in bits and pieces, and judging from the things he could remember, he could be grateful that the entire evening wasn't crystal-clear in his mind.

Professor Victor Neubarth watched the groups of students hurrying past him. He found that he was drawn more to gazing at the girls' breasts, which in most cases thrust outward against their tight-fitting apparel and trembled as they stepped, or at their firmly moulded buttocks, which slid up and down beneath their skirts or dresses, than he remembered having been before. It is an abomination, he thought, that a conservative, well-established college instructor like himself should be so belatedly possessed by these animalistic longings. He shook his head in disgust, then began to walk quickly towards the Humanities building, where he was scheduled to conduct his American Literature class.

Entering the door of his classroom, he suddenly remembered his shameful exit from the party of two nights before, and then as he opened his briefcase, he recalled the events that had led up to his rapid departure. He kept his face down as he spread his notes out upon the podium, realizing that he was flushing a deep red. When he looked up and regarded the class, who had already assembled and were holding their pencils poised in preparation for note-taking, he quickly scanned their faces, looking for someone who might have been at the party. He was relatively sure that Marnie was the only one who had been in attendance that evening. He saw her in her seat near the rear of the room. She was looking expectantly towards him, with no sign of revulsion on her flawless young face.

He was discussing Faulkner's use of the stream-of-consciousness technique in The Sound and the Fury, when his eyes fell upon a girl in the first row whose legs were spread apart, and whose skirt was gathered up about the middles of her creamy-white thighs. He could see, beyond the dark tunnel of her disheveled skirt, the shadowy whiteness of the crotch of her panties. He felt his penis stiffening, then dismissed the class hurriedly, explaining that he didn't feel too well.

When he had gathered up his papers and stepped out of the classroom door, he saw Marnie standing against the hall wall, obviously waiting for him. With her was a tall, thin young man with brilliantly red hair, which had been allowed to grow long, so that it frizzed out in a great bush upon his head. His eyes were of a most unusual color, Neubarth thought as he walked towards them. Violet, it appeared.

"I'm very sorry, Professor Neubarth," Marnie said as Neubarth stopped before them. "Apparently I had a little too much to drink. The last thing I remember was sitting down beside you at the party."

Neubarth thanked God. "Oh, that's all right, Marnie. I drank my share, too."

He looked up to the red-haired youth, who was gazing directly into his eyes, smirking. Marnie introduced him as Ted Rhadaman, a graduate student in psychology. Smiling, Rhadaman stepped aside and revealed a short, dark-haired girl whom Neubarth had not seen until then. She was smiling, too, and she looked totally unfamiliar.

"You know Margaret, don't you Professor Neubarth?" said Rhadaman, his smile broadening.

"Well, certainly he does," the girl said, walking forward.

"No, I'm sorry ... " Neubarth began.

"You must remember," the girl said while stroking his coat sleeve. "I did a little dance at the party."

Neubarth felt as though he had been struck between the eyes with a sledge hammer. He reeled and placed his hand against the wall for support.

"We've detained you because we thought you might be interested in attending another little 'gathering' tonight," Rhadaman said. "This one will be of a more intimate nature. I mean, there will only be we four. We'll have coffee and discuss literature and the like."

Neubarth was speechless before the onslaught of Rhadaman's pale eyes. He felt his head dumbly nodding agreement. Ted and Margaret grinned in unison.

"Oh, I'm so glad," Marnie bubbled. "Seven o'clock. Same place." Her gigantic breasts vibrated ecstatically.

They left him then, walking away side by side down the long dimly lit hall. Neubarth could only continue to lean against the wall, his head bowed.

Professor Neubarth ate his supper quickly, and paused afterward only long enough to say that he had a policy meeting with the dean that evening, then kissed his wife and son good-bye, and hastened out the front door to his car. Driving over to Marnie's apartment, he thought about his son, Farley. The boy was thirteen and doing quite well in school. And now that Victor Jr. was away at college, majoring in English as his father had, Farley occupied more of his thoughts than he had previously. Yes, he thought, the boy will turn out splendidly.

After parking his car on Oak street, and while he was walking up to the apartment door, he thought of how ridiculous it had been to even think of these students as constituting some sort of threat to his equanimity. He could wipe that almost disastrous blot on his reputation completely away by just behaving urbanely this evening. That other night would be forgotten. He knocked forcefully on the door.

Marnie immediately answered and smilingly greeted Neubarth. As Ted had said earlier that day, there were only the four of them there. Margaret and Ted were sitting close together on a divan across the room. They waved to him as he entered. Marnie guided him over to them, and they both sat down beside the other couple.

"Well, Professor," said Rhadaman, his vaguely kaleidoscopic eyes boring into those of Neubarth, "what should we discuss this evening?"

Neubarth was unable to answer. The urbanity, the urbanity! his mind screamed at him.

"Or perhaps you would like to see Margaret here do another dance?" Rhadaman continued. Margaret giggled.

"Now see here young man," Neubarth began powerfully.

But Margaret bounced up and began to do a few dance steps, cupping her hands around her ample breasts as she moved.

"Margaret!" Marnie shouted. "We have a distinguished guest here, and you act like a tart!"

"All right, all right," Rhadaman said, smiling. "Sit down, Maggie, Have a smoke, Professor?" He held out his hand to Neubarth, offering him a cigarette that was curiously rolled in brown paper. Neubarth accepted it with some misgiving, reasoning that it was probably marijuana.

After he had accepted a light and had drawn deeply on the brown tube, he looked around to see that the others were smoking similar-looking cigarettes. Marnie looked at hers with curiosity as she withdrew it from her mouth. After a few minutes, Neubarth thought that the lights in the room were dimming, then thought that he could see them changing colors: yellow, green, blue, magenta, deep purple, then a fiery red. Ted said something, and Neubarth found himself laughing uproariously, even though he had not heard what the young man had said. Still laughing, he closed his eyes, and the grayness was instantly colored by the pinkly glistening body of a young girl. She was running frantically, perspiration beading upon the bobbing hillocks of her taut breasts and dripping from her erect nipples. The wetness also gathered at the small of her back and ran down the furrow between the white mounds of her buttocks in a tiny rivulet. He saw her patch of pubes glittering as she ran, the medium brown hairs gilded by the sunlight into a semblance of gold. There was a heavy clomping behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, and looked in abject terror at the horselike shape that was almost upon her. It had the hindparts of a powerful plow horse, but its head and neck were replaced by the upper torso of a hairy man, his face set in a devilish grin. From between the rear legs dangled an immense purple penis, which dragged among the brambles as the creature galloped. The beast knocked the girl to the ground, and lowered itself onto her spread-eagled body. Its penis, which was as thick as her leg, prodded against her shrinking flesh. Neubarth's daydream was suddenly shattered by a heavy weight which fell against his side.

He opened his eyes to see Marnie's face just below his, and her breasts flattened against his suit coat. He didn't examine the impropriety of the situation, but instead, immediately grasped the nearest of her massive mammary glands and began to knead it. She started to moan, and her nipples stiffened against the thin fabric of her sweater until they stood out like brazil nuts under his ceaseless fingers. He heard his own breath issuing forth in harsh pants, and felt his penis bulging within its woolen confines. He took her hand and put it upon his sex. She responded by stroking it softly, then clutching it tightly while her moans rose in volume, and he could feel his hardened member pulsing within her grasp. Neubarth felt something like a snake coiling tighter and tighter within him, and hearing as though from an objective distance the guttural sounds coming from his mouth, he pushed Marnie back against the sofa and pulled her sweater over her head. She offered no resistance, but began to writhe upon the cushions, her eyes tightly closed. Her breasts were intimidating in their size. They flopped as she moved from side to side, their silver-dollar-size nipple areas striking the couch material on either side. Neubarth dropped his mouth upon the little pinnacle of her nipple, which rose startingly from the wide, pink halo surrounding it, and began to suck feverishly.

"Oh ... oh ... oh!" came bubbling from Marnie's wet lips, while her hand worked unceasingly in his burning groin. Her hand trembled as she undid his fly button and drew the zipper down. Meanwhile he worked at her skirt fasteners, got them unhooked, and pulled the garment from her thrashing body. His trousers were down around his knees, then his shorts followed just as he pulled down her dampened slip. He sat back and slid his shorts and trousers over his shoe tops, while she stripped away the bit of silk which had concealed her sweaty clump of pubic hair. Then Professor Neubarth, suit coat, shirt, and tie still absurdly in place, fell upon her, breathing raspingly, and wrestled her off the couch and onto the floor. Their cacophony of groans and grunts rose like one torrent of audible insanity.

Neubarth lifted Marnie's body so that she was standing on her shoulders, and while continuing to gnaw frenetically on her swollen nipples, jammed his own shoulders against the hollows of her uplifted knees, and sank his rigid penis into her sopping vaginal cavity. She gave a long shuddering shriek, then began to jerk her loins in rhythm with Neubarth's frenzied thrusts. They bounced around so crazily that Neubarth's member came out on more than one occasion, and he had to hold her steady in order to insert again his lubricated organ. While continuing to pump rapidly he felt a knot growing in his stomach. It extended itself to his testicles, then shot through his penis like a length of knotted string being drawn from the bulging, purple head. He collapsed on top of her voluptuous body, while she continued to make little spasmodic movements beneath him.

Neubarth sat up and saw Rhadaman and Margaret regarding him from the couch. They were in the same position they had occupied formerly, except that they were both now totally nude, and Margaret's legs were flung wide while Ted's middle finger probed deep into the mouth of her gaping vagina. They both smiled at him, though Margaret's mouth quivered strangely, and Ted held out his other hand, offering Neubarth a twisted brown cigarette which was already lit. Neubarth took it thankfully, noticing Rhadaman's penis jutting above his orange-haired thighs like a knobbed flagpole.

After smoking the odd-tasting cigarette down to a half-inch butt, Neubarth felt a stirring beside him. Marnie was groping over his exposed thighs with her wet tongue, inching herself forward in a snakelike manner. Her mouth nuzzled about among the matted moss surrounding his genitals, then she nibbled tenderly along the hanging length of his scrotum, pausing to enclose each skin-covered testicle within the cavern of her mouth for a minute. She licked up from the root of his semiflaccid penis, and he fell back onto the carpet as she reached its globular crown. He took another deep drag on the brown cigarette, then handed it back to Ted, who took it, rubbed its ember out against the sofa, and popped it into his mouth. Marnie's mouth glided up and down with increasing speed along the shank of his rapidly awakening organ. He felt its sensitive head striking the back of her mouth and the delicate claws of her teeth gently raking the burgeoning staff as she withdrew. His breath became panted again, and she was breathing very heavily also, punctuating each noisy intake of air with little gasps. Neubarth grasped at the carpet, then felt his body bucking in excitement. As he reached orgasm, a shrill cry broke from his lips and he felt the white, clotted product of his climax disgorge into her rapacious mouth. He collapsed onto the floor, feeling like an emptied wineskin. Marnie sat up with a vacant smile etched into her face, and a creamy white trickle dripping from one comer of her mouth. Her large brown eyes were blank and lusterless.

"Really most entertaining," said Rhadaman from the sofa. "Now you two can spectate for a while. Come on Maggie." He got up, and pulled Margaret up beside him. His bright penis swung out like a yardarm. Margaret leaned against Ted, biting at his shoulder, and then licked around to his nipple and sucked at it. The insides of her thighs, almost to her knees, shone with a fluid slickness. He pushed her down onto the floor, spread her legs with his hands, and kneeling between them, lowered his face into the dark brown, tangled muff between her thighs. His jaw muscles began to work, and Margaret writhed about violently with Rhadaman's face secured against the red-lipped fissure, his tongue darting out and back like a frog's.

Neubarth and Marnie watched, spellbound. Margaret's movements grew in intensity, her loins ground out a regular rhythm against Ted's hair-fringed face, and she uttered harsh cries that sounded like she was in pain. After a few minutes she began to scream "Fuck me! Fuck me!" Rhadaman sat up, his entire lower face coated with liquid, and spreading the fatty cheeks of her buttocks, bent down once again and ran his tongue deep into the dark trench. While he probed at her puckered anus she shrieked piercingly. He knelt upright again, with a lurid grin upon his wet face, and lay down on his back, his stiffened organ bobbing about like a tree in the wind. Margaret jumped up, straddled him, and began to lower her dripping sexual triangle onto his huge meaty staff. As the outer lips of her vagina touched it, she groaned, then sank completely down, so that Ted's erect red organ was hidden inside her body. She pumped herself up and down, her eyes rolling back so that just the whites of them were visible, then spun her body in a complete circle upon the axis of his stout sex, pumped some more, and gibbering incoherently, fell off to the side. Ted's penis came out of her vagina with a little sucking noise.

Behind him Neubarth heard a gasp. Turning around, he saw Marnie sitting with her mouth open, and her tongue moving across her lips. Her breasts hung down like white sacks of grain, and the nipples upon them were slowly erupting into swollen pinnacles. She groped toward her crotch and inserted her fingers into the thick bush. She bent her head down and, widening her thighs, parted the protuberant outer lips, exposing a glistening pinkness. Her thumb pressed against the bulging knot of flesh above her vaginal opening, and she began to plunk it rapidly, like a guitar string. Her head lolled back and she whistled between her teeth.

Marnie reached out toward Neubarth, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and tried to force his face down to the yawning lips. He succumbed to the fog in his mind and to her pressure, and he felt the bristles scratch him as his tongue made its way to the moist portals of her sex. He worked his tongue frenetically out and back, then injected it into the opening itself, the sides of which felt like raw liver. Above him, he heard Marnie yelling, "Do it! do it!" He rose and pushed her onto her back, then fell on top, reached under her to cup the soft hemispheres of her backside in his hands, and lifted her groin to meet his ready penis. She was so well lubricated that he was in her almost without feeling it, and his hips began to move like a machine, hers responding. She scratched at his back, dug her nails into his buttocks, and bit savagely into his neck muscles. Shudders ran through her and she screamed in such volume that Neubarth's ears rang. She collapsed like a discarded burlap bag, and Neubarth collapsed upon her.