Chapter 1
Blonde Cindy Mitchell lay sprawled in the center of the bed. Her skirt was rumpled around her waist. Her blouse was unbuttoned, and she had one hand inside it, manipulating a pliant breast. The other hand caressed her vulva through her thin, lace-edged pink panties.
Her pretty blue eyes were closed. Her moist lips were sensuously parted.
She was far away, in an erotic dreamland, imagining herself in the embrace of a faceless lover. The lover was caressing her where she was caressing herself, and he was murmuring to her sweetly. She was getting ready to surrender completely to him.
As her fingertips pressed the silken crotch of her panties, molding it to the puffy, soft lips which lay within, moisture seeped through the nylon, dampening her fingers.
The make-believe lover was nude now and leaning over her. She saw his immense, bone-hard penis sticking up from his hairy loins. He had slid the foreskin bank off the head, and the glans was monstrously red and swollen.
Oh, God. she wanted that in her!
She pushed one side of her blouse completely open with the back of her hand, and a luscious creamy breast stood bare, its thick pink nipple jutting high. She caught that nipple between her first and second fingers and squeezed it.
The fingers were her lover's lips. He was sucking the nipple. He was mouthing it until it hurt.
Now her other hand lifted one of the lace-trimmed elastics at the bottom of her pants, and two fingers slid inside. How she thrilled as they ruffled the curly blonde hairs on her vulva! And how wet they became as they toyed with the fleshy split!
The man was fingering her down there. Now he was positioning himself, and he was about to...
Bonnnp, ... bonnng!
Cindy stopped her masturbation and opened her eyes. Those were the door chimes.
Oh, God, she didn't want to answer it! She wanted to fall back into the blissful dream from which she had just been so crudely yanked.
Yet, the caller might be a neighbor who knew she was at home. If she didn't answer, they would think it was funny.
Bonnng ... bonnng!
She would have to go. That was all there was to it.
She straightened her panties and pulled her skirt down. Quickly sitting up, she went to work buttoning her blouse. She jumped off the bed and looked at herself in the dresser mirror, primping and patting at her hair.
She looked all right, she decided-except for a slight flush. But that would go down in a few moments.
She hurried to the front door of the apartment, acutely aware of the moisture which had seeped from her vagina and was now smeared along the inner slopes of her thighs, causing them to stick together as she walked. The crotch of her panties was sopped.
Reaching the door, she hesitated for a final moment, then turned the knob and pulled the door open.
A young man stood there. He couldn't have been more than nineteen or twenty, which made him a year or two younger than Cindy. His brown hair was of intermediate length, and he wore round glasses with metallic rims. He was attired in a dark turtleneck shirt and slim jeans. Around his neck were draped a couple of strands of love beads.
"Yes?" Cindy asked hesitantly.
He smiled at her and raised a plastic case he had been holding at his side. He turned it toward her and opened it.
"Good morning, Mrs. Mitchell," he said confidently. "I represent the Acme-Amalgamated Research Foundation. You may not have heard of us, but we specialize in readership surveys for magazine publishers."
Cindy gazed at the copy of a popular magazine which was bound in the plastic case he was holding open.
"What we're interested in mainly," the youth went on, "is the impact of magazine ads on the general public. Now, I wonder if you would tell me, as I turn the pages of this magazine, which of the ads that you see here are the most attractive and why. For instance, is it the colors that appeal to you? Which words in this ad, for example, catch your attention?"
Cindy was flustered. "Well, it's very difficult to tell. I mean..."
He snapped the magazine closed and smiled. "I know. It requires a few moments of study, doesn't it? I wonder ... if you have a little time to spare, could I come in? It won't take long, I assure you, and you will be performing a very valuable service for us. As a matter-of-fact, we have a little premium which we offer to people who answer our survey."
Cindy was gazing at him, hardly hearing the words he uttered. There was something about him which fascinated her. It wasn't that he was terribly attractive, in a physical sense. But he had a smooth confidence which belied his age, which made her feel that he would know just what to do and how, no matter what situation he found himself in.
He caught the peculiar look in her eyes and smiled even more warmly.
"You're afraid to invite me in because you don't know me and you don't even know if what I have told you is the truth," he said. "I understand. Here."
He opened his plastic case to another section and showed her an elaborate identification certificate, headed by the name of the research firm he had mentioned earlier. The certificate gave his name in large letters, just below. It was Raymond Dickinson.
"Call me Ray," he said.
She supposed it was all right, but she really wasn't interested in the least in his survey or whatever it was. His mention of a premium mildly interested her, but she had something else on her mind this morning-the something else which had so completely engaged her attention just a couple of minutes ago in the bedroom. And strangely, that something else impelled her to let this young man into her home.
She opened the door wider and stepped back.
There was something in the way she did it, and in the way she continued to look at him, that gave Ray an idea of what was really in her mind.
He was a knowledgeable lad-a psychology major in college, now on summer vacation and picking up some extra bucks with the magazine sales dodge which masqueraded as a survey. He'd had a good deal of experience with girls and, since he had begun selling magazines, his experience had broadened out to include several married ladies.
He had discovered that the dirty stories about how door-to-door salesmen, meter readers, and the old-time icemen made out with women on their routes were not entirely the fabrications of lewd minds. There was such a thing as the bored and frustrated housewife, and she was susceptible to a smooth confident lad like himself who was mod in style but courteous and clean.
Courtesy was a strange thing, though. Some of these broads only thought they wanted to be treated courteously. He had run into a couple who, surprisingly enough, had wanted to be dragged through the mud. Because he knew something about psychology, he had recognized that illicit urge the moment it had manifested itself, and he had played upon it not only for a juicy magazine order but for an even juicier piece of ass.
Now take this groovy blonde-maybe she was that type. Ray wasn't quite sure yet. But there was something going on in that pretty head of hers which didn't have to do with magazines or housewifely chores.
She would make a fine piece, he believed. He very much wanted to screw her.
"Now..." he said as he sat down opposite her in the living room of the small smart apartment and noted that she kept her bare knees primly together, "if I may have your name and address first. Let's see, this is twenty-three forty-seven Markdale Avenue, isn't it, and yours is apartment four?" "Yes. That's right."
Cindy was gazing at his crotch, where his tight jeans outlined a handsome bulge. She couldn't make out, of course, the exact dimensions of his cock and balls, but it certainly looked as if he was well endowed.
Her husband, Don, had a pretty large penis, she believed, on the basis of sex books she bad read. She really had no way of comparing his penis to anyone else's, however, because she had never seen another one, or felt another one inside her. She had come to Don, seven months ago, a virgin bride.
"And your name is Mitchell," Ray was saying as he scribbled on a form. "Your first name is...? "
"Cinderella," she said.
He looked up and grinned. "No kidding! That's nice. I like that."
"Well, thank you." She smiled rather shyly. "I think it's pretty square myself. Everyone calls me Cindy."
"I think Cinderella has a lot of charm. I dig it." He began to write again. "I'll put down Cindy, though, if that's how you're called. And your husband's name is...? "
"Donald."
"Ah. Very good. Very good."
He flipped his plastic case closed on the magazine-order form and opened it to the popular magazine he had shown her before. He stood up and crossed to the sofa where she was sitting. He sat down beside her.
She immediately felt a strong sexual response. This hit her so suddenly and with such intensity that she became embarrassed.
He noticed the flush which crept into her cheeks and the nervousness betrayed by her loins and hands. She continued to look down as he placed his open case partly on her lap and partly on his.
"Here we are," he said. "Now ... let's glance at a few of these ads together..."
Bother the ads! she thought. What did she care about them?
Ray was thinking much the same thing by this time. But he didn't want to blow his chances-either for an order or for a piece of tail-by moving too precipitously.
He began to discuss the ads with her and, at the same time, point out certain features of the magazine. It was the scheme, of course, to gradually get her interested in the magazine content, then to offer her a discount on a long-term subscription, which was her "premium" for cooperating in the survey. After he had sold her the magazine, he would tell her that the subscription qualified her to receive three additional magazines of her choice at a "ridiculous discount."
But he didn't get that far with the pitch.
He noted her increasing nervousness as they sat close together on the sofa. She kept her eyes trained downward, on his display case, but she didn't say much, answering his questions in as few words as possible. She didn't seem interested, yet she didn't seem to want him to leave.
Of course not, he decided. She wants what I want.
Each time he reached across her lap in order to turn a page, her eyes would follow his hand, and he noted a slight increase of tension. Finally he made his move:
As he reached, he let his hand slide off the edge of the plastic case and onto her thigh, which was covered only by her thin skirt.
She caught her breath and, very significantly, didn't look up at him but gazed at his hand instead.
He took the case away with his other hand and slid the hand which was on her leg underneath the hem of her skirt. He gripped her full, firm thigh.
Now she met his warmly ardent gaze.
He decided to be very bold. In fact, this might be the only way he would get her. If he played around too much, she might lose her nerve.
Right now her blue eyes were hungry. There was fear in them, but the hunger overrode that.
Looking right into those eyes, he asked, "Want it? Nobody will ever know."
She gasped and held her breath.
He slid his hand all the way up underneath her skirt until he was gripping her hip through her clinging, thin panties.
"Oooooh!" she exclaimed. Her eyelids dropped, and her pouty lips parted.
God, she's lush! he thought. And does she want it! Right note I'll bet her pussy is dripping.
He let his case slide to the floor as he turned to her, pressing her against the back of the couch. At the same time, he pulled her skirt lap-high with the hand that had been underneath it and placed his other hand on her nylon-covered belly. She shuddered.
His mouth found hers, opened it. He slid his tongue inside. He dug one arm around her back to hold her close to him, and he slid his other hand down the front of her silken panties into her crotch, forcing her thighs apart.
Was she wet? Jesus! like a river! And hot! Christ, didn't her husband ever screw her at all? He stroked up and down on the crotch of her panties, getting his fingers damp and enjoying the marvelous softness of her pussy lips which burned on the other side of the thin cloth. His tongue stroked and searched the interior of her mouth.
Her tongue stirred a little. Mostly she was frozen with fear in the midst of her very warm arousal. She wanted to be taken more than anything else in the world, and yet she was afraid of it.
She had never been taken by anyone other than Don. He was her husband and she had promised to be faithful to him until death.
But oh, God!
Ray hooked two fingers underneath a leg elastic of her pants. He pulled the elastic forward and to the side, then held it there with his first finger while he placed his middle finger directly on her hairy, hot vulva. He ran it up and down very shallowly in her groove. She was wet all the way. He found her secret slit and ran his finger into it.
She pulled her mouth from his and acted as if she were strangling. "Ooooh ... oooh ... do it! Doooooo it!"
"Do what, baby?" he murmured huskily at her delicate ear while continuing to stroke his finger in and out, in and out of her super-slick vagina.
"Oooh! Love me, love me!" she said.
"You don't mean that. You don't want love. Tell me what you really want." He kept stroking.
"I can't s-say it."
"Yes, you can." He touched and twirled her very stiff little clitoris.
She cried out harshly and bumped her hips.
"Say it!" he commanded because he knew it would help a great deal if she did so.
She wasn't going to. She had never used that word with a man-or with anyone, for that matter. But at just that moment he gripped her throbbing little clitty between his forefinger and thumb and squeezed it.
The sensation which went through her was somehow akin to being split apart by an axe, except that her flesh wasn't rent. But her nerves seemed torn asunder, right up her middle, and she turned to warm mush in her sexual zone.
This destroyed what was left of her inhibitions, and she sobbed, "Screw me! I want you to screw me!"
Cindy shocked herself when she heard the words issue from her lips. Ray wasn't shocked. He was enormously pleased. And to demonstrate how pleased he was, he immediately tipped her onto her back on the couch and gripped the top of her silken pink pants.
He pulled her pants down, baring the exquisite golden garden at her loins. He slid the panties along her bare legs and off, over her feet, knocking off her flat shoes at the same time.
He parted her legs.
Cindy lay there with her eyes closed, her head spinning. She forced herself not to think. She only felt the wonderful excitement of knowing she was with a strange man-a man other than Don-for the first time in her life. She had begged him to screw her, and now she was waiting for him to run that sword of manhood into her pussy and all the way up, to fill her with himself.
Pulsations of hot delight pounded through her. Her vagina was running with love juice, dribbling down her crotch, making her wet all over.
As he pulled off his own clothes, Ray gazed at her gorgeous cunt. There was a copious amount of golden hair around it, fluffy and curling. The outer lips were pulled apart by the open-thigh pose which she held, and her inner membranes were rosy and wet. He could see the thick moisture oozing out and sliding down the rubbery little petals of her pussy-flesh. Her slit was puffed and parted.
Man, he was going to have no trouble sliding his dick into that!
The little hole quivered as he looked at it, its lips trying to flare farther open. Her clitty stuck up and seemed to quiver also, as a result of the immense congestion which filled it.
Ray knocked off his loafers and stripped his slim jeans down. Now he wore only knitted jockey briefs. He stood and stripped them away, letting his circumcised penis spring up. It locked into rigid hardness, its blunt head purplish-red.
He got down onto the sofa between Cindy's knees. He gripped his tool in his hand and, as he dropped fully forward, directed the head of it into the wet, warm channel.
"Oooh!" Cindy cried when she felt it enter her. Ray grunted and jammed it into her the rest of the way, sliding it smoothly to fill her throbbing vagina. "Oh ... oh ... yesss!" Cindy hissed. "Want it hard?" he breathed roughly. "Yesss! Hard! Give it to me!"
He dug his hands underneath her and grasped the smooth, plump cheeks of her bottom, supporting his weight on his knees and elbows.
So far, Cindy hadn't detected much physical difference, if any, between the way this man felt inside her and the way Don felt. But there was a world of difference in the psychological effect. The mere fact that he wasn't Don and that she shouldn't be with him like this fired her to fever pitch.
Now-as he began to stroke his hard rod in and out-he wasn't like Don at all. Don always moved rapidly, not going very deep after the initial thrust until he came, but this young man moved slowly and deliberately-stroke, stroke, stroke-going deep every time. So deliciously deep! And he nearly pulled his shaft out each time he withdrew. Out ... INNNN! Out ... INNNN! She seemed to feel every inch of him intensely, and, as slowly as he was moving, he gave her the impression that he could keep on with it for hours and hours.
Oh, God! Oh, God!
Her hips began to rise and fall, almost of their own accord, as she absorbed thrust after blissful thrust. She moaned and writhed, tossing her blonde hair against the sofa cushion.
He was holding her bottom loosely, now that she had begun to move on her own. He let the live-rubber cheeks jiggle and just nudged them a little, this way and that, to add to the wobble.
His throbbing cock stroked, stroked, stroked in and out of her. He hadn't stuck his prick into a babe that felt so good in a long time. This one could give the grooviest coeds some lessons.
He plunged harder and quickened the pace.
She gasped and cried. She started to emit a string of oh's and ah's.
Suddenly he had to finish. It was too damn good! NOW!
He began to screw her madly-deep, hard and hot-giving her everything he had. She squealed and went wild around him. He let go of her rear and lowered his upper body fully against her. He socked it to her with all the vigor he possessed. Cindy squealed some more.
She was blind. Throbbing. Reeling. Surging. Grasping.
She had it!
Her whole body quaked and rippled with exquisite delight. The muscles in her vagina worked, grabbing at Ray's still-stroking rod.
God, oh, God! It went on and on, getting more intense, until finally there was such a blast of sheer ecstasy that she nearly fainted.
It was at this point that Ray came, seeming to hesitate for a moment, then jerk mightily and drive deeper than ever into her. He jerked again and again. She felt his semen flood into her.
He gave a little laugh as he pulled out of her with a wetly sucking sound and stood up.
She kept her eyes closed and she didn't move, except to slowly close her thighs. Her head was still going around and there was a soft throbbing that continued within her. But she was deeply satisfied-more deeply than Don had ever satisfied her.
Also, however, she began to feel the guilt which was naturally associated with doing something she regarded as wrong. It had been sweet while it happened, and the satisfaction was sweet even now. But it was tinged with shame, and this tinge was becoming stronger.
"Hey, have you got anything to drink in this house?" Ray asked as he stood naked beside the sofa, looking down at her with satisfaction. His wet cock hung thick and long in front of his now-pendulous balls.
Her lips quivered but she didn't say anything.
"Drink-drink," he said with another little laugh. "like whiskey, gin, wine even?"
"In ... in the kitchen."
He started to leave, then stopped and said, "I'll pour you one, too. Huh, love?" "No. No."
He walked back to her, bent and gripped her by the shoulder. He gave it a little shake. "Hey, wake up." She opened her eyes.
The first thing she saw was his penis. Oh! She jammed her eyes closed again.
"What ... what's the matter?" he asked. "You're not dressed."
"You don't want me to get dressed yet, do you?"
"Yes!"
He chuckled.
"Why are you laughing?" she asked breathlessly. Her eyes remained closed. "I'm laughing at you, love." "Why?" she breathed intensely.
"You're afraid of your own shadow." He pushed her legs against the back of the sofa and sat on its edge. "Now, why should you be so afraid?"
"Ooooh ... Don't talk ... Just get dressed."
"Why? Are you expecting your husband home?"
"No."
"Then I want to talk. And I want to screw some more, too."
"Ooh, don't talk like that!"
He gripped her by the shoulders and shook them. "Open your eyes," he directed. She opened them.
"You know, those are the prettiest blue eyes I ever saw."
She closed them again and he laughed.
"Here ... let's get your blouse off." He took hold of the top button.
"No!" She clamped her hands over his.
Her eyes slowly opened. There was something like terror in them.
Smiling down at her, he slid his hands warmly over her breasts, which were nude underneath her blouse.
"I didn't think you had a bra on," he said, still grinning. "When I had my chest against you, a little while ago, I thought I could feel your nipples."
"Please."
"What's the matter, love? Are you sorry you did it?" She bit her lip. "Truth," he commanded.
"No. I'm not sorry. But you have to go now. It was wrong."
"The shit it was!"
"Ooh! Please don't use nasty words!"
Smiling down at her, he said, "Shit, screw, ass-hole."
She colored quickly and closed her eyes again.
"You've heard those words, pet," he said, his hands slowly working her titties.
"You've heard all those words and enjoyed them," he went on, "when you didn't have to commit yourself. But for some reason you think it's wrong to let a guy say them to you or for you to say them back to him." He paused, studying her. "You said the worst one to me a little while ago. You said..."
"Please don't remind me," she moaned in a small, tormented voice.
"I want to remind you. I think I ought to remind you. And I think I ought to get you to say that filthy word again." He paused. "Say it, doll."
"Noooh."
"Yes. Say it." He squeezed her tits.
"Ooooh!"
"Say it."
"I won't. I can't."
He took his hands off her breasts and sat up. He looked down at her thoughtfully.
"When your hubby comes home tonight, you're gonna be in misery, aren't you? You're just gonna feel so guilty, you won't be able to look him in the face. Then later, when he takes you to bed and wants to screw you, you're gonna freeze like a popsicle."
"Ooh, don't say that! Don't talk to me. Please go!"
"Yeah, you'll freeze like a popsicle, and you'll spend all day tomorrow thinking about me, hoping that I'll be back."
"No!"
"Yes." He bent and kissed her gently on the lips. Then he murmured, "Open your eyes." She looked at him.
"You're a lovely woman," he said with feeling as he looked at her. "A lovely young woman."
She kept looking at him this time and she didn't say no.
He said, "I want to look at your breasts."
Her hands slid away from him. Slowly he unbuttoned her blouse and opened it.
"Mmmmmmmmm," he said, kissing them with his eyes.
"Are they ... all right?" "They're beautiful!" "Really?" "Beautiful!"
He placed his hands over them, enjoyed their cushy firmness, and he wobbled them gently as he caught her stiffening nipples between his index and second fingers. New throbbing began in her body, centering in her breasts and spreading down.
Quickly he wrapped his fingers around the outer side of one breast, his thumb underneath it. He squeezed, forcing the rigid pink nipple even higher than before, and he dropped his face to it, gathering that delicious tidbit up into his mouth.
The warm honey began to flow through her again, and she moaned pleasurably writhing gently beneath his kiss.
He tongued her nipple carefully, going at it with greater skill and dedication that Don ever did as he groped for her hand, found it, and carried it to his lap.
She recoiled slightly when she first touched his penis, but then she was aware of the fact that she wanted to fondle it, and she took hold.
It was soft but sizable. The head felt funny without any foreskin on it. Don's penis had a foreskin. She knew about circumcision, though, so the condition of Ray's cock was no surprise to her-but, of course, she had never seen or handled a circumcised penis before.
She stroked Ray's tool gently while he sucked and nibbled on the tip of her tit.
Now he went to the other breast and began to tease that one, prodding the nipple with his tongue and running his tongue around the crinkly nipple-base. He pushed the nipple this way and that. He caught it between his lips and squeezed it, stroking his tongue back and forth across its topmost surface.
All the while, his hand squeezed her other titty-contracting and letting go, contracting and letting go.
Her vagina began to throb once more.
Oh, God, did she really want him to put his thing inside her again?
She fondled his penis more actively. Gradually it stiffened.
Ray slid his mouth from her nipple and up to her throat. He moved it to her ear and murmured, "Say 'screw me.'"
"Screw me," she breathed.
He slid on top of her and settled down between her thighs.
His cock found its own way into her split, sinking deep inside her cunt.
"Oh, baby!" he exclaimed. "Darling..." she murmured.
He began to pull and thrust, pull and thrust-slowly, feelingly-sliding his swollen shaft against the very sensitive membranes of her vagina.
Cindy was in never-never land again. That is, she had thought it was never-never land, but now it had become real. She had found it with this boy.