Chapter 3
"Thank God!" breathed Mandy gratefully as she discovered that the service entrance to the hotel was open, and she quickly stepped inside, knowing that several amazed pedestrians had seen her leaping stark naked from the back of the truck and race down the first dark alley, and it was possible that someone could take it into his head to follow her. Inside, she found herself in an empty corridor, but the smell and sound of frying meat informed her that she was close to the hotel's kitchens. She could hear the cook shouting at his assistants and, while she looked around her, frantically searching for a place to hide, the swinging doors of the kitchen burst open and an old waiter sailed out, nearly stumbling over her.
"You better get back to your room, dearie," he advised her severely, as he balanced a tray of medium-rare steaks over his head. "Mr. Marvel can get very upset over something like this." And then, without another glance in her direction, the waiter disappeared off in the direction of what must have been the dining room, leaving Mandy shivering with fright, the suitcase over her inviting little pussy and the encyclopedia covering her lushly ample young breasts. The waiter had obviously mistaken her for one of the guests, and she decided to disappear before he thought better of it and came back to investigate. Lugging the suitcase as best she could, the naked teenager located a door which led to a staircase, and she darted quickly up to the second floor where she found herself in an empty corridor, lined with doors. Desperately, she began turning handles until she found one which yielded to the pressure of her hand. She entered, taking particular care not to bang Max's suitcase against anything.
"Oh that's good, that's good, that's good!" a woman's voice floated in from the bedroom, and Mandy realized that she had been unlucky again. The room was occupied! She took a quick glimpse around the corner, seeing a man and woman - both as naked as she - copulating wildly on the bed. Fascinated, despite her personal troubles, she watched while the man achieved an orgasm and the two of them lay panting in one another's arms.
"Gosh, if my husband found out I was screwing another man," the girl gasped happily.
"he'd kill me. What would your wife do?"
Mandy never found out because she had slipped into the bathroom and gently closed the door behind her. It was obvious that those two were not planning on going anywhere for awhile, and even if they did find her, they were hardly in a position to do a lot of noisy protesting. She held still for a second, her heart in her mouth while she waited to see if they had heard her, but the only sound from the bedroom was the murmur of adulterous voices, some music as a radio was switched on, and finally, the groaning of bedsprings as the two sinners went at it again. Exhausted, Mandy borrowed a fingernail scissors from over the sink and sank down on the edge of the bathtub to open Max's suitcase.
A moment's maneuvering with the cheap lock did the trick, and she sighed with happiness as she opened the suitcase and saw a suit of clothes. Granted, they were clothes for a man, but it had been such a long time since she had a stitch of clothing to cover her nakedness that Max's best suit seemed like a garment fit for a king. And her size, too!
It felt a little funny putting on the underpants, but they fit, and she slipped Max's undershirt over her ripely succulent breasts, wishing for the first time in her life that she was not quite so full in the bosom. She could almost pass for a young boy ...
The idea struck her, in all its magnificent implications. The police were looking for an oriental girl, and she was going to attract a lot of attention running around in a man's suit of clothing. But if she could successfully imitate a boy until she got some money in her pocket and had decided what she was going to do . . .
Moving quickly, she used one of Max's loud vulgar ties as a kind of improvised brassiere, trying to anchor down her sensually swaying breasts. Then she put on his best white shirt and fastened another tie around her neck. The pants and shoes fitted her perfectly, and she faced herself in the bathroom mirror, still wondering if she could possibly get away with it! Too much hair! Finding a pair of scissors, she hacked away at her long black tresses, feeling badly about cutting off her beautiful hair, but realizing that almost any sacrifice was better than an encounter with the police. She sheared herself to the approximate length of a boy's hair, wiped off what little remained of her lipstick, and then studied herself again in the mirror. Not perfect, but it would have to do. Repacking the suitcase and slipping volume three of the encyclopedia under her arm, she slipped out of the bathroom, colliding with the naked woman who had recently been in bed with her adulterous lover.
"Ahhh! Henry! There's a man in here!" she yelped, modestly covering her moist blonde pussy.
"Excuse me, lady! I was looking for room two sixty-eight," Mandy replied, artificially lowering her voice to the deepest possible note and backing out into the hall. So far so good.
"Hey, you the guy they sent over from the agency?" demanded Mr. Marvel severely, stepping out from behind the registration desk. "You took your time about getting here!" Mr. Marvel was the proud possessor of a bachelor's degree in public administration from Cornell, and he prided himself on running the Willowy Heights Hotel with the precision of a Swiss watch. When he called the employment agency for a new man, he expected that man to be on time. But instead of launching into his usual tirade on the virtues of punctuality, Marvel's eyes softened as he surveyed this prospective employee. The truth of the matter was that
Edgar L. Marvel had a tiny, tiny weakness for pretty boys like this one, and this was a very pretty boy indeed. He put a fatherly hand on Mandy's shoulder, noticing how soft and sensitive this young lad's face was. He had not even begun to shave yet, and his voice was still not completely changed. Certainly a boy like this would respond to the attentions of an older and more sophisticated man like him!
"What's your name, son?" Marvel asked, giving Mandy a friendly little wink. "Uh ... Mark, sir," replied the girl. "Fine, Mark. Tonight we'll get you fixed up with a place to sleep, and tomorrow I'll explain your duties. We have an orthodontist's convention here at the moment, and the Sons of the Pioneers Ball is coming up. Lots of work; so get a good night's sleep. And uh . . . your room happens to be next to mine, so, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to .. . uh . .. bang on my door."
The room he gave her was tiny and on the top floor, but Mandy was in seventh heaven, overjoyed at her good fortune at finding a safe haven so quickly and easily. And, with a little money coming in, she would be able to make plans and decide what she was going to do next. The girl was exhausted by the events of the day, but it was nearly three in the morning, and she fell asleep the moment she got Max's clothing off and crawled between the sheets.
Room service awakened her in the morning and the man at the reception desk told her to stop by the kitchen for some breakfast and then report to him for assignment of duties. Mandy climbed into the clothing, spent a few minutes walking back and forth before her mirror to master the technique of striding like a man and then rode the elevator down to the ground floor for breakfast. Fortunately, the waiter who had seen her crouching stark naked in the corridor was not on duty and Mandy decided that she had better avoid him for a few days if it was at all possible. Gobbling a couple of eggs and some toast, she downed a cup of coffee and went out to find Mr. Marvel.
"We won't have time to train you for awhile yet," explained the manager, carelessly running his fingers through her hair. "So today we'll let you do some odd jobs. For starters, why don't you help out with the room service?"
For the next hour, Mandy stood by the registration desk, and, as calls came down for coffee or extra towels, or aspirin, she located whatever was needed and carried it to the guest. In every case, she was tipped a quarter or half-dollar, and the first few times, she had to fight back the temptation to thrust the coins into her underpants, the way she had while an employee of Mr. Wilson's. The money felt good, jingling in her pockets, and together with her salary, she felt she would soon have enough funds to strike out on her own. And the first time she had a free moment, she realized that she needed a brassiere, since, whenever she forgot herself and moved too quickly, her full sensuous breasts swayed alarmingly beneath her suit-coat. If they ever asked her to remove her jacket, she was lost. Of course, buying a brassiere presented difficulties of a practical nature. Since all she had was male clothing, how precisely was she to walk into a woman's wear shop and select a brassiere for herself, much less try it out? She was worrying about the problem at ten-twenty when the call came down from Mrs. Jacobs in room six twenty-two, asking for bicarbonate of soda. Mrs. Jacobs had a stomachache.
"For Christ's sake, be polite to her," whispered Marvel as Mandy left to execute the order. "Her husband's president of the National Dental Society, and they come back every year for their convention, all three hundred of them!"
Mandy knocked on the door to room six twenty-two, and a deep alto voice told her to come in. Mrs. Jacobs had thrown off the covers and was lying on the bed with only a sheet covering her body, apparently naked underneath. Mandy had never spent much time examining other women or their bodies, but she noticed immediately that Mrs. Jacobs was a very well-preserved lady about thirty-five with deep pendulous breasts and long finely tapered thighs.
"Oh, thank you for coming!" said the guest, examining Mandy very carefully. "Would you be so kind as to get me a glass of water from the bathroom?"
Obediently, Mandy fetched the glass, mixed the bicarbonate of soda, and handed it to the ailing lady, who, in fact, seemed to be not really all that sick. Mandy wondered where her husband was and then recalled that there were speeches being made in the hotel's convention hall and decided that Mr. Jacobs was probably addressing his fellow dentists. Guessing that the lady would probably not wish to climb out of bed to give her a tip, Mandy bowed politely and moved towards the door.
"Oh wait . . . You're new here; aren't you?" Mrs. Jacobs inquired, shifting her position in bed carelessly, so that one mountainous breast nearly popped out from beneath the sheet.
"Yes, ma'am!" Mandy replied, retracing her steps back to the bed.
"Well, you're a very handsome young man. I shall speak to the manager and tell him how very helpful you've been."
"Oh well, thank you, ma'am!" Mandy stood first on one foot and then the other, not knowing quite what was expected of her.
"Sit there on the edge of the bed, won't you? That's right! Now, if you'd like to be very helpful and earn yourself a perfectly fantastic tip, why don't you rub my stomach a little? I have the most terrible ache."
Marvel had said to do anything she wanted, Mandy recalled, so she made haste to execute these strange instructions, perching nervously on the edge of the bed and laying her hand on Mrs. Jacobs' flat smooth stomach.
"Ah . . . that's right!" sighed the full-breasted woman contentedly as the girl began to rub, moving her hand gently in circles. "Harder, if you please . . . ah . . . that's much better ... Hmmmmm ... you're really very good! You should give massages ... A little lower, dear..."
Obediently, Mandy lowered her hand, rubbing the softly yielding flesh between the woman's hips - despite the fact that this area was no longer, strictly speaking, the stomach. Mrs. Jacobs groaned with pure animal happiness and then gently took Mandy's hand in hers, gradually inching it even farther down so that the palm of the girl's hand was resting indecently on the soft hair-covered mound of Mrs. Jacobs' pussy. As she moved, one of her breasts accidentally became uncovered and a hard erected nipple appeared, but Mandy decided it would not be discreet to say anything at all and continued rubbing.
"Oh ... oh ... yes! Rub it like that ... Oh, my stomach is getting better by the second ..." the woman babbled jubilantly, guiding Mandy's hand as the girl leaned over the bed and rubbed with all her might. Another sumptuous breast appeared and soon the sheet was hunched around Mrs. Jacobs' middle. Mandy was experienced enough to understand by this point exactly what she was doing, realizing that, if the lady had a stomachache, it had disappeared a long time ago, but she could honestly think of no reasonable way of breaking off this obscene encounter. If Mrs. Jacobs were to complain to Mr. Marvel, she would be fired, and if caressing another woman's moistly flowing pussy was what it took to hold this job, then that was what she would do!
"This sheet is in the way, damnit!" groaned the orthodontist's wife, lifting Mandy's hand momentarily off of her throbbing cunt and yanking the sheet violently to one side. "Now!" she cried triumphantly, putting the girl's hand back down directly on her nakedly convulsing flesh. Mandy tried to feel appropriately shocked at this bizarre behavior as she went back to work, pushing her fingers directly into the moistly willing flesh of another woman's churning cunt, but actually, after everything that had happened recently, she had about decided that there was nothing left in the world which could really shock her.
Besides, it was fun! She had never before touched a woman's genital organs, except for her own, and she began to explore, allowing her little baby finger to sink down through the wildly convulsing lips of Mrs. Jacob's vagina, slipping into the hotly grinding tunnel of her cunt. The woman groaned and began massaging her own breasts as Mandy's hand worked over her jewel-like little clitoris, agitating the tiny sex organ until it felt hot to her touch.
"Oh my God . . . that's right. .. harder The woman's hips were gyrating furiously now and suddenly she rolled on her side, clasping her hands around Mandy's arm, an absolute howl rising from her lips.
"Now . . . now . . . My stomachache is beetttteerrrrrr..."
For a few moments, Mrs. Jacobs lay panting, slowly releasing Mandy's arm. Quickly the girl spread the crumpled sheet over the woman's thoroughly satisfied body, discreetly wiping the vaginal fluid off her fingers as she tucked her in.
"Ah . .. Thank you so much!" Mrs. Jacobs purred happily. "My stomach is much better now. Would you mind passing me my purse?"
Mandy handed her a rich brown alligator purse, and the wealthy woman burrowed around inside for a moment before coming up with three ten dollar bills which she crushed into Mandy's hand.
"That's for the bicarbonate of soda," she murmured with a sheepish smile. "Perhaps you could stop by again tomorrow morning. I so frequently have stomachaches ..."
"Despite their chronic poverty, the people of Bangladesh have developed over the centuries a philosophy of incredible richness and profundity," Mandy read in volume three of the Universal Encyclopedia while sitting in the tiny bedroom they had given her on the top floor of the Willowy Heights Hotel. "Bengali mystics have long maintained that all material possessions inevitably lead to evil, and some sects practice the belief that even clothing is immoral, holding that nudity brings them closer to Rathmun, which is the Bengali term for the pure heavenly spirit."
Sounds like a lot of nonsense to me, Mandy considered. I could use a few material possessions, and when I ran around without my clothes, people were always raping me. If that isn't immoral, I don't know what is! But volume three was the only book she possessed, and the article on Bangladesh was interesting, so the young woman read on, her keen retentive mind absorbing knowledge like a sponge.
"The most exceptional aspect of Bengali philosophy is the incredible control certain holy men and woman have been able to acquire over their bodies. Some Bengali priests and nuns have demonstrated the capacity to stop their hearts for periods of up to a minute, and legend has it that the Narthusi, or Bengali courtesans, have developed the ability to produce orgasms spontaneously without sexual contacts of any kind. Despite efforts by the government to control it, Narthusism, or transsexual meditation, is widely practiced in the rural parts of the country ..."
Now that would be interesting if it were true,. Mandy decided, remembering the intense physical joy she had experienced when Mel Wilson had savagely fucked her. Imagine, being able to cum whenever you wanted to, just by thinking about!
Dropping the encyclopedia on the floor, Mandy concentrated for a moment, wondering if she had somehow inherited this marvelous talent from her Japanese mother, but gave it up after a few minutes when nothing seemed to be happening. With a sigh, she got to her feet and paced the floor. Feeling cramped and suffocated, she opened the window of her room, clinging to the frame as she fought off a brief bout of vertigo. It was seventeen stories to the busy street below, and it made her slightly nervous just to stand next to the window. But the room became stuffy otherwise, and the soft breezes of evening floated caressingly over her body.
She was tired. After four consecutive days of curing Mrs. Jacobs' stomachaches, she had earned one hundred and twenty dollars in a way which probably would have shocked the American Medical Association but suited Mandy's empty pocketbook just fine. The dentists convention had departed, going back to the business of straightening America's crooked teeth, and the staff and management of the Willowing Heights Hotel had spent the day frantically preparing for the Sons of the Pioneers, Ball, which was tonight. Mandy could already hear the orchestra playing, and down on the street below her, limousines and taxis were clustered around the main entrance to the hotel, depositing the rich and elegant Sons of the Pioneers for a night of dancing and champagne. It was supposed to be the social event of the year, but the girl was too tired to go down to the ballroom and see what high society really looked like. She was off duty now, and it was time to go to bed.
With a sigh of relief, she kicked off her shoes, or Max's shoes, to be precise, and hung the truck-driver's pants and coat in her closet. She had removed his underpants and was undoing the buttons on the shirt when the door opened and Edgar L. Marvel walked in!
Mandy's mind worked fast, and she kept her back to him, reasoning that, since she was supposed to be a man, and therefore should not get upset about having another man see her bare buttocks. Just as long as he could be prevented from seeing what she had, or more precisely, did not have, on the other side.
"Oh . . . Mr. Marvel," she fluttered, almost forgetting to lower her voice. "I didn't..."
"I've been neglecting you, my dear boy," said the hotel manager, a strange tone in his voice. "A young lad like you, alone and defenseless in the world, needs company, and I thought that the two of us could spend some time together. I do hope my rank and importance won't keep us from becoming friends."
"Oh ... of course not," she stammered, not knowing quite what he was driving at. She felt silly keeping her back turned on him, but, even if she held something over her adolescent pussy, the hotel manager could hardly help but notice the richly swelling globes of her breasts, particularly since she was wearing nothing under Max's white shirt. But Marvel did not seem to mind. In fact, he seemed particularly fascinated by the tender half-moons of her buttocks.
"Good heavens, you seem to have a bruise on your left cheek, Mark," he said, coming forward and bending to examine her bottom attentively. "However did that happen?"
It was true. At the climax of Mrs. Jacobs' last upset stomach, the dentist's wife had reached out unexpectedly, seized a handful of Mandy's tender behind and squeezed with all her might. She had not paid much attention at the time, but this affectionate gesture had left a sizeable black and blue mark.
"Oh... I banged into a table..." she muttered unconvincingly, but Mr. Marvel seemed to be too preoccupied with the bruise on her softly tempting ass-cheek to be paying much attention.
"My dear boy, a thing like this could be very serious," he muttered, turning her around so that the light from the window fell over her taut boyish flanks. "I'll rub some ointment on it and that'll make it feel better, eh? Just stretch out on the bed!"
"Oh really ..." Mandy began to protest, but Marvel marched her to the edge of the bed, and she quickly stretched out on it face down as he picked up a bottle of Vaseline which some previous occupant of the room had left behind. She liked nothing at all about this situation, but reasoned that she was better off lying down than standing up, since this way there was less chance of Marvel's prying eyes falling on her nakedly feminine little pussy.
"Now... oh yes, we'd better remove that shirt, Mark," Marvel ordered, sitting beside her on the bed. Don't want to get Vaseline all over it; do we fellow?"
The shirt was quickly unbuttoned, fortunately, and Mandy pulled it quickly out from under her, hastily putting her arms by her sides to cover her ripe young breasts as Marvel stripped away her last article of clothing. She could not understand for the life of her how the hotel manager could look at her lying stark naked before him and still not realize that she was a woman, but he seemed to be quite involved with the bottle of Vaseline. Mandy had heard that Mr. Marvel was a bachelor, and she reasoned that, since he was not married, he might not be intimately familiar with the shape of women's bodies. This explanation did not strike her as overly logical, but she knew that her future depended upon this man's continuing to like her, so she refrained from trying to order him out of her room. If he wanted to rub Vaseline on her bottom, that was his silly business!
And Marvel seemed to be taking this particular business very seriously indeed! Mandy grunted and wiggled uncomfortably as the hotel manager rubbed her smoothly yielding buttocks fiercely, realizing that he was deriving some sensual pleasure from this evil caress, but unable to understand why. Could he possibly have seen through her disguise? Did he know she was a girl? And was this the beginning of a sexual assault?
"A man gets lonesome sometimes," Marvel commented philosophically as he kneaded and pinched the ripely tantalizing half-moons of her behind. "And when a boy like you comes into his life ..."
Hearing him refer to her as a boy with such profound conviction, Mandy relaxed, deciding that there was no immediate danger. Apparently, Mr. Marvel was not too observant about some things, but, if he kept on stroking her so hungrily, things were definitely going to get out of hand. He was working the Vaseline in very thoroughly, gradually forcing the two cheeks of Mandy's bottom apart, and, every once in awhile, he allowed one of his lecherous fingers to stray down into the moist furrow in between. Each time the tip of his finger passed licentiously over the puckered little tip of her anus, Mandy found herself shivering with a combination of sexual delight and horror, for she had learned how terribly sensitive her body was at that particular spot!
"Please . . . Mr. Marvel..."
"Call me Edgar!" the manager insisted.
"Please, Edgar ..." she croaked hoarsely as Marvel dipped his finger again into the jar of Vaseline and began running it persistently back and forth over the tightly clenched hole of her rectum. "I think it's feeling better now ..."
"I can feel how you need it!" responded Marvel, his eyes blazing with the perverted sexual fury of having this smooth-bodied boy at his complete and utter disposition. Marvel may have been slightly mistaken over the gender of his sex-partner, but he had seen Mandy's hips begin to twitch and gyrate, knowing immediately that he was on his way to a new conquest.
"No . . .no!" Mandy groaned as she felt his stout middle finger push its way past the frail defenses of the tiny elastic circle, plunging vilely into the delicacy of her nether passage.
God! What a feeling! None of this made the slightest sense to her, but Marvel began yanking his invading finger frenziedly in and out of the rapidly expanding little hole, causing shock waves of illicit pleasure to race up and down her spine, and she gripped the sheet for fear of falling off the bed. What was he doing to her? Where was all of this taking them? Behind her, Marvel was fumbling with his clothing, and the distraught girl twisted her head around in time to see the over-excited hotel manager kick off his pants, freeing his long thin cock for action.
Now she understood!
The farce could go no further! It made no difference if he fired her on the spot or even denounced her to the police, she could not possibly allow him to stick his throbbing male instrument into the virginal confines of her rectum. She tried to roll over, but Marvel placed one hand on the small of her back, pinning her cruelly to the bed while he used his knees to edge her lushly firm thighs farther apart.
"Wait! It's not the way it seems!" she groaned, trying desperately to think of the words which would stop him. "I'm not what you think I am!"
"I know exactly what you are, Mark!" Marvel roared in sensual delight as he guided his slender piercing sword to the portals of her rectum. "I knew you were one of us the moment I laid eyes on you!"
Mandy's scream broke the air as the man's cock broke past the barrier, probing obscenely into the churning depths of her heartlessly violated anus. The girl sobbed wildly, her lust-provoking body gyrating in agony as she tried to escape this vicious sodomy, but Marvel speared her like a butterfly on a pin. Burning like a red-hot poker, she could feel the pulsating glans at the tip of his cock worming its way deeper and deeper into her back passage, and, for a moment, the pain took her breath away. She lay in brutalized, beaten submission as Marvel fucked into her, chuckling with lewdly perverted joy as he battered his way home, burying his cock in her to the hilt.
"Hang on Mark, 'cause Edgar's gonna ride!" he warned her lasciviously as he began to torment her cruelly stretched sphincter, flexing his hardened staff of flesh until she groaned with agony. The pain cleared' her mind, and she covered her face with her hands, trying desperately to decide what to do. Bit by bit, the hurt of Marvel's rear entry was subsiding although it was still too early to pretend that she was having much fun. But he had done the impossible, ramming his rampant cock up inside this unnatural passage, and he'd done it without splitting her in two. She had proved she could take it. Now what did she do with it?
Experimentally, she flexed her buttocks, wondering if there was some way she could shake him loose. Marvel groaned with mindless homosexual pleasure, and immediately, the young girl decided to change her strategy. -It was obvious he was too strong for her and intended to stay where he was until he had achieved his satisfaction, which in this case meant shooting his hotly masculine cum into the unnatural sanctuary of her ass. If she wanted to get him off of her, the only thing to do was to force him to have his vile perverted orgasm as soon as possible. With any luck, he would go away without ever realizing that it was a woman's body he had sodomized, and not a boy's.
"Yes, yes, yes," Marvel was chanting insanely as he began fucking jubilantly in and out of the "young man's" offended bottom, his delight increasing by leaps and bound when Mandy's hips began to twitch and writhe convulsively. I'm turning him on, the manager rejoiced obscenely. These young fellows can't get enough of a cock like mine.
More or less, Marvel was right. Mandy told herself that she was putting on a performance for his benefit as she rocked her buttocks back onto the man's surging penis, and she was, but the acting was not completely genuine. The fact of the matter was that the pain had disappered completely, replaced by a warm tingling glow, and she was frankly beginning to enjoy herself.
My God! I'm starting to be a real whore, she criticised herself, but the lewd glow began to spread, invading her empty cunt as the orgiastic juices flowed out onto the bed beneath her. Is there anything that doesn't turn me on eventually?
There was no answer to her question, and the girl's body quickly surrendered, her last fragments of morality and shame disappearing as she was filled with the lewd and perverted delight of being fucked savagely in the ass by a man who thought she was a boy. She floated higher, a faint layer of fragrant sweat covering her soft skin as the sensation in her overstuffed rectum became unbearably pleasurable, and then moved into that pre-orgiastic stage of feeling sensations beyond pain or pleasure, seemingly of another dimension.
"Oh Christ! Give it to me!" Mandy was groaning, shaking her head frantically back and forth as she felt her climax creeping up on her. "Fuck it harder! Fuck my ass!"
His muscles going rigid with strain, Marvel put his back into the enterprise, skewering in and out of her churning rectum with all the force in his body, noticing with delight that his new little friend had lost complete control over "himself." Mandy was bucking and heaving like a colt being broken to the saddle for the first time, her legs scissoring open and shut as if she were swimming through a sea of some soft warm liquid.
"Oh God!" she mumbled suddenly, shoving a fist into her mouth to keep from screaming aloud. "I think ... I ... I'm cummmiiinngg!"
"Oh, that's right! Mark baby, cum, cum for all you're worth!" Called Edgar Marvel encouragingly, his pulsating cock suddenly going rigid as the clasping walls of the girl's rectum clamped down on him like a vise.
"Ah yes . .. Mark, you're making me cum," he groaned in perfect bliss, his cock feeling as if it were exploding into a thousand tiny pieces.
"Oh Christ!" Mandy moaned as his life-seed flooded into her anal passage, his cock swelling momentarily to twice its normal size, cum spurting violently from the red-hot glans like a stream of water from a firehose. Marvel collapsed over the softly yielding body of his lover as the orgasm wracked his body, trying to kiss the young boy's face. What a perfectly formed young man, he was dreaming happily, his hands languidly caressing the boy's body. What a soft neck! What fresh pink cheeks! What dark expressive eyes! What incredible breasts!
Breasts?
Breasts!!!
In the fury of her burning orgasm, Mandy had rolled on her side, too concerned with the violent storm of lust within her body to remember about concealing her true sex from Edgar Marvel. The man raised himself up on his elbows, his flaccidly deflating penis slipping moistly from Mandy's ravaged anus, watching with horror as the disgusting truth was revealed to him. With a groan, the girl rolled over onto her back, her full, ripely protruding breasts juggling sensually back and forth. Panic-stricken with shock, Marvel's eyes traveled rapidly down the lush contours of the young woman's voluptuous body to the point where he expected to find a jutting young penis.
Instead, Edgar Marvel,'graduate of Cornell in public administration, Class of 1952, saw a pussy, a black-haired moist, churning pussy which would have brought joy to the heart of nearly any man on earth.
Unfortunately, it brought no joy to Edgar's heart. Destroyed, he backed away from the bed, horror and dismay written across his face.
"A girl . . . You're a girl!" he groaned in anguish.
"Mr. Marvel, I can explain everything!" said Mandy, snapping out of her pleasant post-orgasmic fog and sitting up on the bed with her hands covering her breasts, since they seemed to be upsetting Mr. Marvel.
"Let me out of here!" screamed Marvel hysterically, putting his hands over his face so he would see no more of this disgusting, revolting sight. A naked woman, dripping with the sweet fluids of sex, her private parts bared for the world to see! With a final groan of anguish, Marvel turned and hurled himself out what, in his madness, he took to be the door.