Chapter 5
Bud Swift took his time climbing the stairs, feeling the depression settle over him as he came closer and closer to the scene of his crime. There was no point in trying to excuse himself by thinking about the fact that the whole wild scheme was Ash's idea and that the others had all been solidly for it. He could have stood up to the gang of them and shouted them down, and if necessary, fought them down. But he had been weak and gone along with it, and now events were already taking place which would certainly be irreversible. There was no turning back.
And naturally, they would get away with it. When they showed her the pictures, she would almost certainly not go to the police. Unfortunately she would also certainly hate him until the day she died. She might tell Matthews what had happened or she might be too ashamed, it was hard to predict, and it didn't make much difference at this point.
Swift stopped on the top floor, listening to the ancient school building squeak and mutter to itself in the night. He lighted one of the marijuana cigarettes in the dark hallway, the momentary fleeting glow from his match illuminating the dusty chipped plaster and the sagging walls, and it occurred to him that the whole ramshackle structure just might collapse without warning, killing them all and ending his problems in an instant. He took a deep drag, feeling the narcotic filter into his bloodstream, and slowly climbed the last flight of stairs.
Chubs raised himself on one elbow as the gang leader came in the door, looking at him stupidly while the other two punks slept peacefully in separate corners. There were two empty whiskey bottles on the floor, and Swift understood immediately what had happened.
"Shoulda been here, Bud," muttered Chubs thickly, the sweat rolling across his massive fat-covered chest. "We all fucked her twice . . . greatest fuck any of us ever had!" And he rolled over on his back again, his mountainous belly protruding in the air, and went back to sleep.
Sleep tight, buddies. Swift thought viciously as he walked through the outer room into the chamber where Kathleen Barton was imprisoned. And if you've hurt her, none of you will ever wake up again. No one will ever miss you. You'll all just disappear!
The kerosene lantern was still flickering dimly in the corner throwing strange uncertain shadows over the room as the young hoodlum crossed the squeaking floor to the mattress where the girl lay quietly. He knelt down beside her still-naked body, feeling the old lust come rushing back over him again as he saw the bruises and black-and-blue marks on her flawlessly formed figure. Her eyes opened slowly as he gently touched her hair.
"Phil?" she asked pleadingly.
"No, it's Bud," he answered, suddenly hating the sound of his own name. How much better it would be in this moment to be Phil Matthews!
"Oh," she replied quietly turning her head away almost as if she had suddenly lost interest in the conversation. All. this meant was more mistreatment and brutality.
"Did they hurt you?" he asked softly, not knowing quite what else to say. It would be too stupid to ask her to forgive him at this stage of the game.
"Oh, they were perfect gentlemen," she replied sarcastically, her voice weak and trembling with emotion, but Swift could tell that her spirit had not yet been really broken. She was still in there fighting. "I've never been raped so nicely before."
There was a long silence. Swift could not think of anything else to say and so he remained quiet, stroking her long brown hair and letting his eyes wander over the exposed length and breadth of her magnificent naked body. God, she was beautiful! What should he do? She was hardly strong enough to give him much of a contest right now, and he could probably take her with complete ease. What was done was done, after all, and why should he let the opportunity pass? On the other hand.. . .
"Water," she gasped, putting her hand to her throat. "Before you get down to doing what you came to do, would you show me what a nice little gentleman you are and give me a glass of water?"
'There's no water," he muttered unhappily, amazed that she was still showing so much spunk. "If you want some whiskey . . . "
"Anything. Just so long as it's liquid."
It was strange, he thought as he obediently went into the next room and opened a fresh bottle of whiskey. She was his captive and she fully expected to be raped, and yet they were sitting together having this perfectly civilized conversation about water and whiskey. Next she would be asking him for ice cubes. How was it possible to rape a woman who was so cool?
Kathy accepted the bottle without the slightest sign of gratefulness, immediately tilting it back and taking a long pull while she propped herself up on one elbow. She was aware, of course, that she was still perfectly naked, but after all that had happened, her maidenly modesty was hardly important. So he could see her bare, bruised breasts and her battered vagina with traces of three of his buddies' cum still clinging to her pubic hairs! So what? He was sitting there calmly watching her, and he would decide what would happen, not her. She had already tried threats and name-calling and it had gotten her nowhere. Pleading for mercy was useless. Why worry about how she ought to behave? Was there a book of etiquette on how the well-dressed woman conducts herself while being gang-banged? She could say what she wanted since nothing she said would make much difference.
"And now I'll accept a cigarette," she told him boldly, looking him square in the face. If they were going to make brutal use of her body, they might as well keep her moderately happy in the meantime.
"All I've got are these," admitted Swift uneasily, holding up the pack of drugged cigarettes.
"Well, I wouldn't expect you to have purchased my brand she snapped, reaching for the pack, not realizing that the cigarettes were filled with half tobacco and half marijuana.
"It's your funeral," he shrugged, lighting a match and touching it to the end of the reefer as she held it to her lips.
Miss Barton dragged gratefully on the cigarette, noting immediately that the taste was pleasantly strange, but too battered and bruised to give the matter much thought at the moment. She expected that Bud Swift would start in on her right away, and thus found herself moderately surprised by his behavior. Surely he had not exposed himself to the danger of kidnapping her just so the three punks snoring in the next room could have some fun with her! He must have wanted her himself, and in fact all week she had felt his penetrating eyes from the back of the room watching her lustfully. She knew that he had wanted her and wanted her bad! Why then had he handed her over to his gang members and disappeared for the better part of an hour? If he wanted to rape her, why didn't he do it? There was nothing absolutely nothing to stop him!
"I . . . I'm kinda sorry things worked out this way," he muttered, his eyes avoiding hers as he moved next to her on the couch.
Kathy bit her lip and decided that it was better to say nothing. She had read somewhere about what the Army expected of its men when they were taken prisoner by the enemy in a war. You were allowed to give your name, rank and serial number, nothing more. She had no serial number to give and they already knew her name and rank, so there was no point in saying anything more. She had already sacrificed some of her dignity by accepting the whiskey and the cigarette, but under the circumstances, she felt she could be forgiven at least this much. But, from here on, she would practice total passive non-cooperation. And she was not going to get into a cozy little chat with him before he decided to take his clothing off and violate her already abused body. She had to hang onto some tiny molecule of her dignity and self-respect at all cost, and she was enormously greatful that Swift had not been present when the other three had raped her, hearing her moan and plead while Ash had tongue-fucked her half-way to an involuntary orgasm, and then finished the job until she had climaxed so powerfully that she had lapsed into unconsciousness. Oh God! How she had hated it.. . and loved the pleasure . . .
But her head was spinning slightly and she felt too weak to remain propped up on her elbow, letting her body go slack and allowing her head to drop down on her arm. Everything seemed to have taken on an aura of unreality, the walls, the room, the chipping plaster, her world seemed to be mounted on huge silently turning wheels which were carrying her inexorably around in circles. The naked young school teacher struggled to regain control over her fading senses, but she had been fighting too long against so many things and now she was tired. It was all she could do to raise the cigarette hesitantly to her lips for one last deep drag before she felt Swift calmly removing it from between her fingers lest she burn herself or set the mattress on fire.
Bud Swift sat quietly by the beautiful young woman's side and watched the marijuana take effect, realizing that he had never seen it hit anyone so hard and so fast before. It was funny stuff, he reminded himself philosophically. Some people could never get high, no matter how much they smoked, and other people went clear off into space after the first puff. Kathy Barton obviously belonged in the second category. There were some other things which were obvious as well: she had completely lost the will to resist, at least physically. Ash, Chubs and Jose had evidently mauled her half to death, and she was broken so far down now that she would not be able to lift a finger against him. And indeed, why should she? What could he possibly do that one of them had not already accomplished? She had obviously been raped several times, and very thoroughly. There was a partially-dried fleck of white sticky substance clinging to the soft skin of her cheeks which told him that not even her soft mouth had been spared. What was left for him to do? When you have already lost everything, you have nothing left to fear.
He stroked the fine silken flesh of her shoulders carefully, curious to see if this timid approach would produce any reaction, if she would lash out at him verbally, telling him to keep his filthy hands to himself. She groaned slightly, pulling a few inches away, but nothing more. It had all been wrong, but there was no way to change it now. He wished he had not doped her up with the cigarette, desiring somehow to give her back her clothing, mix her a cup of undrugged tea, and sit her down some place respectable in order to explain everything. He would want to tell her what it had been like growing up in the Ken Central area, learning to fight with razor blades and broken bottles, running from the police and stealing cars, experimenting with drugs and tormenting teachers. He would want her to understand how it felt to hold a gun in his hand and fire a bullet into another human being, watch him die and then go for years wondering if the crime would ever be detected.
And then, too, she would need to comprehend the sensations, the excitement involved in planning a robbery and actually pulling it off and thinking you had gotten away clean until the knock came suddenly at the door during the bad-dream hours of the night, and the tough detective from the police station quietly slipped handcuffs around your wrists while two patrolmen held their pistols to your stomach and led you away. If the marijuana were not dulling his brain and hers, he would try to make her feel what it felt like to stand before a judge and hear yourself described as a menace to society and listen to the chairman of the jury read off the sentence of five long years in the
State Penitentiary.
And there were other things as well. He would have to explain how he had felt when Phil Matthews had first gotten him interested in books and learning and the possibility of a better life than being the leader of a gang of stupid thugs and the over-age quarterback of a high school football team. She would have to understand how he had hoped for the future, and how badly he had wanted to suppress all that was evil in him long enough to let her teach him what she knew about biology. He would have to confess how it had all gone wrong when he had listened to Ash, the voice of his own personal devil, and begun to think how it would be to possess her young innocent body instead of what she knew about biology. There would be a great deal to confess if he really wanted to tell it all, and what possible interest could she have in listening? She would never again regard him as anything but scum.
In fact, Kathleen Barton was past the stage of thinking. The terrible events of the past few hours together with the effects of the marijuana had dulled her brain to the point where she was virtually semi-conscious. She was dimly aware that her body was shivering when Swift put his hands on her, and she tried desperately to hold perfectly still, sensing like a wounded animal that this man was capable of great violence, and that her only salvation lay in absolute passivity. She was lying on her side, her hands clutched between her legs in the classic defensive posture of a woman being assaulted, but she felt her tiny brown nipples harden as his sensitive fingers brushed lightly over the full swollen globes of her breasts.
Bud Swift felt the young woman's body relax slightly as he continued to caress her gently and respectfully, running his hands slowly down over her slim waist and exciting himself with the magnificent vision of her entire naked body, a landscape of hollows and delicate indentations, soft rises and secret hiding places. For a moment, Swift had actually toyed with the idea of trying to make up for all the bad he had done by not forcing his way into her at this moment, but he knew that the temptation was too strong for him. And who could tell? Perhaps if he handed her her clothing and took her home in Matthew's car, she would have even less respect for him than before. If there was anything worse than a bad man, it is a bad man who loses his nerve at the last moment, and there was nothing wrong with Swift's nerves. Yes, he would take her, by God, he would fuck her good and proper, and perhaps this was the only way he could ever win her respect. Perhaps if he succeeded in doing something for her that no one else had ever done, then, just maybe . . . but Bud Swift was not much of a man for philosophical speculation. He rose to his feet, towering over her, and quickly stripped off his clothing.
There was a movement in the air, and Kathy opened her clouded eyes for a moment, catching sight of the naked man as he crouched over her, his hardened cock protruding like a spear from the forest of black pubic hair in his groin. She told herself that she ought to be afraid, since he was bigger by far than any of the others, but for some reason, there was no fear in her. There was nothing left now but resignation. If it was meant to happen, it would happen. He was in charge here. It was his show, not hers and this was not a class in biology. She closed her eyes again in subjugation as she felt his hands once again on her nakedly trembling body, rolling her over onto her back.
Swift knelt over her, like a man on his knees to pray, his hungering fingers coursing reverently over her ripely succulent breasts, the flat white plane of her stomach, and farther down to the soft moist triangle of pussy hair up between her legs. Swift expected her to react in some way, pulling her legs together or crossing her hands across the luxurious twin peaks of her breasts, but the beautiful teacher was too far gone for any of that now. Instead she remained the way he had arranged her, her firm young thighs falling helplessly apart. A surge of triumph roared up in Swift's chest as he realized that he was not going to have to rape her after all. She was giving in! She had thrown her cards on the table and surrendered! Was it the marijuana? Or something else?
He watched her carefully, like a surgeon eyes a patient during a delicate operation, his hand wandering gently down between her legs as he fingered her softly throbbing vagina, feeling that she was still moist and open from the brutal encounters she had experienced with the members of his gang. She moaned softly as he stroked her undefended pussy, her arms rising up over her head and grasping the corners of the mattress as if she was afraid of falling off. It seemed inconceivable, but Bud Swift was experienced enough to recognize all of the signs. This woman was slowly but surely turning on! Perhaps, just perhaps there was still a chance of saving something from the wreckage he had made of his life.
Kathy felt as if she had drifted off into another dimension, another world where all the everyday rules and laws of biology ceased to function. At first she was being raped, and then it had been sullen submission to the inevitable, and now this whole experience was changing into something much different. It no longer seemed to matter what the circumstances were, and she only knew that a strong naked man was hovering over her, slowly driving her wild with passion. She had tried hard to deny to herself that there was anything happening inside of her at all. She had attempted to feel disgust and revulsion at this dishonor, but somehow nothing would come. There were tiny licking flames of forbidden lust racing through her stricken body, and she knew in her marijuana-fogged brain that Swift would see the tips of her nipples standing out as hard and firm as pebbles and draw his own conclusions. Even if she succeeded in hiding the truth from herself, she could not hope to hide it from him.
"Ohhhhhhh! OOOhhhhhhh!" she heard a woman's voice in the room, only after a second or two realizing that it had been hers, and that she had spoken aloud.
Swift reacted, his own excitement now climbing quickly to the boiling point, bending over her and fastening his mouth against her, his tongue spearing between her lips, only to find her own tongue timidly reaching up to touch him back, a warm, wet contact which sent an immediate shudder through her lust-wracked body. Nor did she jerk away from him as his eager hands continued to swarm over her voluptuously exposed young body, and the inexperienced biology teacher found that her hips were becoming difficult to control. As he stretched himself over her, she felt the hardness of his rigidly pulsing cock dragging lightly over her stomach, and before she could stop herself, she found that she had arched her back, raising herself up to meet him as if she were answering some silent invitation.
"Oh God!" she muttered, her words distorted by the presence of his lips plastered hard against hers and her body quivering nearly out of control like a motor being raced until it is in danger of shaking itself into pieces. Swift maneuvered himself into position over her, one hand snaking down to investigate the whole of her wetly heated vaginal slit, and for a moment he fought off the temptation to plunge himself into her immediately. Why delay a moment longer? Was this not why he had brought her here?
The answer, of course, was yes, but still he held back. He had to be sure that this was not going to be simply another rape, for her or for him. Tonight he wanted nothing less than her total surrender. He did not want to take; he wanted to be given. It was worth the risk to go for the prize he really desired, and if he succeeded, perhaps it would change something later on.
'Touch me," he told her quietly, swallowing before speaking to make sure his words would be clear and authoritative. "Put your hand down here and touch my cock."
It was the acid test. Both of them were holding their breath, and there was a long torturous instant when no one moved, each of them waiting for the other to take some decisive action. Finally, it was Kathy who surrendered, and she was not quite sure why, but her hand moved seemingly of its own accord snaking down between their bodies until she found the throbbing hardness of his penis. Swift's body went rigid with tension as he felt her fingers close around his thickened shaft of flesh, gently tugging on the foreskin. For the time being, Swift seemed content to follow her lead, allowing her to draw him steadily in the general direction of her open willing cunt as if it were she who were taking the initiative and he were merely going along for the ride. It seemed like a fantasy beyond the scope of his wildest imagination, but the evidence of his eyes was convincing. She seemed to want it as badly as he did, even if she could not quite bring herself to open her mouth and tell him so. He knew that this was a moment which might never happen again if they both lived to be a hundred, but something perverse inside of him still held back from the final commitment which would be the act of plunging his long hard cock into the warmly receptive depths of her body. He poised over her like a reluctant diver trembling on the high board, waiting for a sign that she really knew what she was doing.
Once, it would have been enough for him merely to win her grudging acceptance; now, his standards had risen sharply and he wanted it all. He wanted to see her hungrily writhing beneath him, beside herself with unfulfilled, unsatisfied desire. He wanted to see her begging and pleading for him to fuck her, and now nothing less than a total unconditional surrender would do. With this one fuck, he was probably destroying his future, the only real chance he would ever have of escaping from the fetid slum of Ken Central, and if he was going to throw his life away with one sexual act, then he swore to himself that it would have to be a fuck she would remember to the end of her life!
The beautiful young school teacher was making tiny crying noises half-way between hysteria and laughter, her sensuously naked body gyrating back and forth on the soiled surface of the mattress. As he stroked her, the pulsating tip of his cock nuzzled in the warm flesh up between her widely spread thighs, causing a strange insistent hunger to ripple through her tormented body.
Was this what you always wanted? she asked herself dimly, her mind wandering in open-ended circles like a traveler lost in a dense woods. From the moment you first saw him abusing that young girl, did you really start to hope that he would do the same thing to you some day? Is that what you are deep down inside, a crazy masochistic little whore?
Her brain asked the questions but it was her lust-stricken body which provided the answer as she felt her hips twisting upward in a desperate lascivious attempt to force his wonderfully throbbing penis up inside of her ravenous womb.
Bud Swift levered up over the girl, treating himself to this vision of loveliness he was in the process of conquering. Kathleen Barton's face was contorted into a mask of undisguised passion, and her long brown hair dishevelled now thrashed wildly back and forth while her mouth opened and closed as if she were gasping madly for air. Down farther between their two tension-packed bodies, he could see the steel-like shaft of his cock as it pointed directly into the warm moist embrace of her pussy. The lust-swollen tip of his penis was barely a half inch inside of the twin pink flanges of her vaginal slit, and he knew that she was half out of her mind with a perverse desire to have the rest of his hotly pulsating cock inside of her as well. Her quivering vaginal lips were pressing against the bulbous head of his cock from all sides as if they were begging to be penetrated, and the sight of all this unguarded lust excited the young man almost beyond endurance, making it more and more difficult for him to restrain himself.
As his eyes traveled up and down her ecstatic young body, Swift's glance fell upon Kathy's melon-like breasts which were jiggling provocatively back and forth on her chest as her whole body gyrated in sexual torment on the mattress. Acting on pure animal instinct, the hoodlum bent forward quickly, lowering himself on his powerful shoulder muscles like a man on the down stroke of a push-up, and planted a noisy wet kiss on each of her bullet-hard little nipples. These were the most perfect, the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen, either in real life or in pictures, and he found himself filled with the irrational desire to use them, to have them, to possess them in some way. But how? A man could not fuck a pair of breasts.
Or could he? Swift had never made love to a woman before who was big enough in the breasts to try out this particular little perversion, but he had an idea that Miss Barton's swollen mounds could be put to some lewd purpose. He had promised himself that he would take all of her, and these magnificent breasts were obviously the best part.
Moving carefully to avoid destroying the strangely self-sacrificing mood she seemed to be in, Swift inched his way up over her torso, his knees coming to rest on either side of her rib cage while his long throbbing cock extended out in front of him like a rifle barrel. Slowly, he lowered himself into position, his eagerly jerking cock waving back and forth between her two sensuously ripened breasts, while the young brunette teacher stirred restlessly beneath him, obviously unhappy at this delay in the proceedings.
What was he doing? If he had decided to rape her, why was he taking so long about it? Kathy found herself wondering vaguely, ashamed to admit to herself that she was a little disappointed in not being raped as quickly as possible. She kept her eyes shut tightly, knowing that whatever weird jungle magic had settled over them could be destroyed by a moment of rationality if their eyes should chance to meet.
Swift found to her surprise that his hands were trembling as he touched her, but he had decided what he was going to do, and knew she was in no position to stop him now, or even object. She had already given too much away!
Pressing firmly from either side, he pushed her soft warm breasts together so that they trapped his twitching cock between them like a snake caught between two sponges, and then he began to knead them until he brought a moan of pleasure-pain to her lips. His biceps bulged as he pushed, really putting the pressure on to force her nipples so close that they were nearly touching, staring up at him like two blindly crossed eyes. As soon as he felt the pressure reach maximum, he began to rock slowly back and forth, driving his pole-like penis into her soft rubbery flesh like an earth-borer through sand, thrusting his thick hardness so far forward that the tip of his lust-bloated cock appeared high on her chest just beneath her chin, and then disappeared again into the silken flesh of her breasts. Each time his long thick penis emerged from this tantalizing artificial cunt, it left behind it a tiny glistening drop of the rich seminal fluid which was slowly oozing from the purplish gland.
This was perilous business, and several times Swift had to bring himself to a dead standstill or risk the danger of cumming too soon, ruining everything for himself and for her by spewing his searingly hot cum prematurely all over her neck. While he rested, allowing his excitement to cool like an engineer easing up on a steam engine, the young gang leader entertained himself by playing with his victim's lust-provoking breasts, twisting and tweaking the little brown nipples until she cried aloud with some weird combination of pain and rapidly growing ecstasy. Simultaneously he watched her beautiful face, playing her with all the deliberate skill of a master musician performing at a grand organ.
The girl was completely around the bend by this point, groans and little bird-like cries of hunger escaping unconsciously from her parted lips. From time to time, her heavily-lidded eyes would open, as if she were gradually regaining full consciousness, but Swift could tell from the dazed expression in her eyes that she was seeing little or nothing. Kathy Barton had been transformed from a prim and proper young biology teacher into a gasping groaning mass of raw lusting flesh, and she was no longer the slightest bit in control of her own body.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh," she was chanting rhythmically as he fucked ruthlessly into the velvety channel of her breasts, and Swift found himself watching her open mouth with a sudden morbid attention.
Don't push your luck too far, Swift tried to caution himself in his brain, there was no way of fighting it off. He knew that the others had cum in her mouth, and he wanted everything they had had. But he wanted it all given voluntarily. They had undoubtedly had to use violence to ram their lewd cocks into the unnatural sanctuary of her mouth. Would she take him willingly? Was this strange masochistic mood of subjugation and submission really that strong? He had to know! He had to discover precisely where the limits were, if there was any part of her which was still forbidden to him. If she would take him there, then in some macabre sense, he had won. It would be no longer rape!
But the thought of worming his thickly muscular cock between her full red sensuous lips almost caused him to cum right there on the spot, and he forced himself to wait another moment before moving forward to attempt this new outrage upon her helpless young body. Releasing his vise-like grip on the tenderness of her breasts, he inched his way forward so that his knees fitted neatly under her arms, enjoying an extra tingle of excitement as he felt her hands circle around and come to rest on his muscular thighs as if she wanted to hold him where he was. Leaning forward on his arms, he gently moved his hips forward so that the thick menacing shaft of his cock approached her face like a rocket entering the atmosphere of some forbidden planet. Closer and closer he came, until the underside of his long rigid instrument brushed across the moistness of her innocently parted lips, and his cum-laden balls tapped lightly against her chin. On the insides of his thighs, he could feel the firmly resilient mounds of her breasts which had been the object of his attentions the moment before, but were now almost forgotten as he pursued this new goal.
It had to be slow and careful or he would destroy whatever magical spell she was under. Whether she had been vanquished by the pot, or her own uncontrollable desires, or simple fatigue, Swift did not know and at this point, he hardly cared. He was almost there!
Slowly, he rose up on his haunches, allowing the pungent meaty tip of his invading cock to play lasciviously around the edges of her wetly parted lips. This was the critical moment, and the young man stopped breathing for a moment, waiting to see if she would snap her jaws tight in righteous anger, spinning her head indignantly to one side as she refused to accept this final, total humiliation.
But instead, she did nothing of the kind. Groaning pathetically like a sleeping child disturbed in its slumber, Kathy's mouth simply fell open and her head nodded forward slightly as she strained to take his offered manhood between her full sensuous lips. He was caught almost off-guard by this prompt and silent acceptance of his lewdly unspoken proposal, but he lost no time in capitalizing on the advantage he had gained, pressing forward in absolute delight until the glistening skin of his cock had disappeared half-way into her ovaled red mouth. It was not a sight he had ever expected to see, and he remembered vividly the circumstances of their first meeting when she had charged in from behind the door of the women's locker room, catching him in the act of performing this self-same obscene perversion with that stupid little sophomore girl. He grinned as he remembered the names she called him then. Who would have dreamed that so short a time later . . .
But the beautiful young teacher was not merely submitting to this abuse of her mouth.
She had never done this before with either of her two boy friends, and would have been horrified had either of them asked her to, but now that she was actually doing it, she found that it was not as bad as it might have seemed. Bud Swift was clean, and the taste of his warmly pulsating penis was salty and pungent, but not unpleasant, and she experimentally began using her tongue, swiping it across the broad leather surface of his cock-head while she sucked in on him. She could feel his hands on her cheeks as he gently pressed in on her to increase the pressure, and she understood what he was doing when he began flexing his hips methodically back and forth, moving the shaft of his penis regularly in and out of her hungrily sucking mouth.
The thought of what she was actually doing should have disgusted her, but Kathy found to her amazement that her own excitement was growing more fierce by the moment. Yes, she realized with a shock, she wanted to be misused and mistreated like this! Somewhere down inside of her there had been a deeply masochistic streak which had been hidden all these years, and the thought that he was using her tender young mouth precisely as if it were another cunt he could fuck to his heart's content filled her with a frenzy of unsatisfied desire un-like anything she had ever experienced before.
She began to suck on him hard now, anxious to please, to suck him dry, to make him groan with pure ecstasy when he shot his hot roiling cum into her throat. Her tongue lashed at the blunt tip of his manhood savagely, as if she had been born into this world for the sole purpose of sucking his cock and no other. All the gnawing hunger buried deep down inside of her vacant vagina seemed to have transferred itself to the sensitive insides of her mouth.
Bud Swift enjoyed his reputation as a tough guy, but he found himself compelled to moan like a child as he felt the fires beginning to light in his loins. At first he had merely intended to play around in her mouth just to see if it could be done before getting down to more serious business in her tight little cunt, but he realized that he was going to go all the way, making her submit to the carnal outrage of having her delicate mouth used as a repository for his boiling white sperm, grunting like a savage in the jungle, he stepped up the pace, flexing his loins rapidly in and out of the round little hole formed by the young woman's tightly ovaled lips. And he watched as he worked, driving himself into an absolute frenzy of excitement as he saw his saliva-slickened penis plunging rhythmically in and out of her greedily sucking mouth.
Swift could feel the whole room heating up as he drew inexorably towards his climax, the sweat pouring off his naked body in multiple rivulets, but the girl seemed totally unconscious of everything else in the world except the pleasure she derived from the job she was doing. Her mouth was filling slowly with a mixture of saliva and seminal emissions from the burning tip of his cock, but she swallowed and went on sucking as if her life depended upon it.
Then, suddenly, it all began to happen, starting with a rush from deep in his loins which nothing in the universe could possibly have stopped. A long white stream of hot angry cum boiled up from somewhere in the athlete's convulsing body, spraying out madly into the frantically gulping cavern of her mouth. Her cheeks bulged out as the fiery liquid squirted into her, and the school teacher gurgled and choked as she voraciously gulped each spurt of the lust-inspiring fluid.
The gang leader gasped as he felt the last of his manhood trickle into her, feeling his wildly jerking cock begin to go limp as the original lust-driven force of his body emptied itself into the biology teacher's helpless throat. It was over, the most cataclysmic orgasm he had ever experienced, and for a moment, he merely rested on his elbows, her face buried deep in his groin, too tired to pull himself free of her soft warm lips.
It was then that he made the discovery that stunned him. She was still sucking! Apparently still possessed by whatever nymphomaniacal madness had come over her, the young school teacher continued to hold his drooping penis tenderly between her lips, swallowing occasionally as she choked down the last traces of his sticky white cum. Her body was still in motion and as he glanced quickly behind him, Swift could sec that her smoothly curving hips were undulating rhythmically up and down as if she were being possessed by some ghostly invisible lover. The fluff of her dark-brown pussy hair was matted and moist, and he could see the wetly gleaming lips of her sweet little pussy spread open like the front doors on a barn, desperately inviting someone to enter. For a moment, he regretted bitterly that he had spent all his force in her mouth, leaving nothing with which to finish the job properly.
But her insane sucking was not as crazy as it had just seemed, since Swift felt his cock stirring restlessly again as her tongue bathed him in warmness, and the girl seemed to know exactly what she was doing, methodically bringing his virile instrument back to life like a nurse resuscitating an accident victim, delighting in her magic power to make him grow hard and firm again between her lips.
When he was completely erect again, she slowly dropped her head back to the pillow, her hands wrapped firmly around the base of his cock as if she were holding on for dear life, the strings of clinging white semen still connecting the red bulbous tip to the glistening red flesh of her lips. Swift knew what was expected of him at this point; he'd had his lesson and now it was time for the homework. And there was no point in delaying a moment longer.
A kind of a truce, a peace, an understanding had been reached between them. Tomorrow, no one could tell what might happen, but in this moment in history, Bud Swift, ex-convict, thug, gang leader, and the voluptuous young biology teacher from the right side of the tracks were lovers.