Chapter 11
It was hilarious, the way Christine recounted her contribution to John's taunting of the unseen watcher in the dark. At John's urging, none of them looked out the kitchen window. "I don't want her to know it was solely for her benefit," he said, and then blushed as he looked at Christine.
"It didn't really turn out that way, did it, doll?" he asked, and Chris, tugging at one thigh, showed them the shining slickness of the professor's sperm, warming her leg.
As mischievous as children, they basked in the fancied torment of the frustrated lady in the dark. "Five will get you fifty," Harley exclaimed, "she's knocking herself out trying to get her husband on the telephone."
They called Rovere's number three times, getting a busy signal on each try, but on a fourth call, there was no answer.
But the quiet outside was suddenly broken by the sounds of a struggle, an angry exclamation or two, and Melissa's voice calling from under the kitchen window: "Help me, somebody--this bitch is really wild!"
"I had an idea she was sneaking down here when nobody answered on that final call," Carol said as the nine of them stood in a circle around an angry and disheveled Helen. "That's why Melissa went out. What was she doing, Lissa?"
The young redhead was gorgeous in her triumph. "Taking notes, right under the window. I've got them here!"
John glanced at the scrawl Melissa handed him. "Shorthand," he laughed. "I can't read it, but we can guess what it is." He turned to Helen, his expression mocking. "You ought to find a publisher for this, Helen," he taunted. And then, turning to the grinning faces around him, he asked: "What do we do with her?"
"Strip her," came the automatic answer, chorused by all four of the women. "And give her a good fucking!" Harley exclaimed. "All of us!"
There were whoops of excitement as the four women closed in, smothering the raging Helen's struggles easily.
"I've left a message for my husband!" the outnumbered victim screamed. "I told that damned dispatcher the house was burning! STOP IT! There are LAWS against this!"
John was amused. "By George! Laws against what? Punishing a prowler? A trespasser?"
She stood in the center of the circle, nude, her clothes strewed like pennants of victory over the shrubbery. Her hands were deployed in shocked modesty, one covering the dark triangle of hair at her cunt, the other across her tits. Even in this victory, John felt an odd twinge.
It wasn't possible, he told himself. He had had no idea her figure was so perfect. Of course, she had always undressed in the dark, and insisted on at least a sheet covering them both, even in their infrequent, confused, unsatisfactory mating. She would be how old? Thirty-two. But her body, seen clearly in the bright blaze of the floodlight, was as perfect as Pam's. More voluptuous. Tits bigger, ass bigger, the brown-tipped boobs riding high and proud on her rib cage. He licked his lips, moving in with brutal confidence, and jerked the protective hand away from her pussy.
"I claim first rights on this," he said to the ring of expectantly lustful faces. "I never had a good fuck out of her in three years of married life. But I'll give her one to remember!" He felt the woman flinch.
"You'll get one to fifteen--maybe more!" she shouted. "Forcible rape!" But she stood still, not moving as John pressed his hairy maleness against her, placing his warm hands on her asscheeks, pulling her belly against his rising cock.
"But this won't be forcible, Helen--because you're going to agree to it," he whispered. "You're a bigamist--and I'm the only one who knows it." He bent his head and sucked one of her nipples deep into his mouth, mauling it with tongue and teeth, delighted to give her pain. He looked up at her, grinning. "How'd you like your righteous husband to know that?" he taunted.
To everyone's amazement, the captive woman seemed to relax, and turned an enigmatic smile on them all. "In that case," she said, her voice low, "what can I say? Let's get on with it." With a graceful movement, crossing her ankles and letting herself down in a cross-legged position, she sank to the chaise pads and lay back, one hand over her eyes, and, to John's complete unbelief, spread her thighs wide apart.
In everything she had done, there seemed to be elements that, in John's view, were contrary to her nature. But now, he piled on the pressure, hoping to crack her composure.
She lay unmoving, still smiling, and John said sharply: "Come here, Melissa." The young redhead moved close to him, shivering a little, licking her lips. "Somebody's got to warm her up for me," he said. "Shove a pillow under her ass and dive into her--give her a good licking!"
Panting, eyes bright with lust and playful cruelty, the young girl looked up at all of those in the circle. She ran her hands slowly up Helen's inner thighs, her eyes on the calm face. She wrinkled her nose in pleasure as the musky odor of pussy drifted up, bent to plant a resounding smack against the dry and springy cushion of hair, and went to work.
At her first touch, Helen's legs drew up sharply, so that Melissa lay between Helen's knees and tensed thighs, and the younger girl, now emitting eager little cries of pleasure, locked her arms around the brunette's legs, her hands coming all the way around, rooting in the mesh of pubic hair.
Prying the cuntlips open, she dug her lips and tongue into the moist gap, reaching the clitoris immediately. The victim moaned now, and bumped up sharply, twisting from side to side. There was a chorus of heavy breathing in the silent circle, and John shook his head. The girl's mouth went burrowing in again, and they could see how her arms gripped the straining thighs, holding her mouth in the pink gap. Melissa's eager mouth sucked up a copious welling of warm juice, and she clung with all her strength against a flurry of movement.
She arose, her lips sticky and reflecting the patio light, licking all around her lips with a smile of accomplishment. "She's as hot as a firecracker," the girl whispered. "She came like a runaway train!"
John held his hard cock in one hand and dropped to his knees. "I don't believe it," he said flatly. "This is Miss Ice Maiden of the year."
But Pam leaned down and pushed her hand between the furred lips, bringing it up dripping with juice. The brief contact brought the helpless woman spiraling up off the pads, a thin yell bursting from between clenched lips. "Go on, John," Pamela said excitedly. "She's as sensitive as a sort thumb. Ram it into her right now--she'll go right out of her tree!"
Still not convinced, John did the only thing left to him. In a matter-of-fact way, really wanting to confirm his beliefs as much as to heap injury on insult, he roughly pushed the head of his cock against the slick walls that sloped down to the vagina's portal, and dropped his body onto his ex-wife, slamming into her so deeply that his cock ached at the jar.
And then his disbelief dissolved, washed away by the heat, the lithe and powerful movement that almost tossed him from the saddle, and the fierce clutch of vaginal muscles around his startled prick. There was a shrill scream tearing at his eardrums, and a sudden quiet that was broken only by a series of moans that were, without a doubt, of passion.
Her breasts, so youthfully firm, pushed their hard spires of erected nipples against his chest, and his loins ached in response to the wetly sliding grip on his cock. He put one hand under a buttock, prying in to touch the hidden asshole, and it slipped in the sticky flow that, so soon, had pumped out of her.
He looked at her face, and it was a happy mask of lust, her mouth open, her eyes closed, her breath sweet. In a rare surge of childishness, wishing to disgust his victim still more, he covered her mouth with his, shooting his tongue in against Helen's. Another shock--her tongue lashed back, long, muscular, desiring, seeking. And suddenly, he knew that, whatever had made Helen frigid, she was now flaming with lust.
He fucked now with more pleasure and more purpose. He felt the smooth warmth of her belly working against his, and the muscular tremors which shook her periodically. Could these quakes be orgasms? He plowed into her sharply, holding his stroke as the tremor began again, and knew it was so. Her inner muscles softly relaxed after the tremor was over, but closed questioningly after a second or two.
His cock was rising in its feelings, the head seeming about to burst. He was panting. He had been performing a ritual, stabbing a punishing instrument into a conquered foe. No more. Now he was fucking a warm and gladly yielding woman, a woman he knew and did not know. Their mouths and tongues were locked together, her cunt was clamping and holding his prick in a loving, responsive clasp.
As he felt another, larger flurry of bumps and squeezes, he no longer held back, and he gratefully pumped his sperm into that deeply rewarding hole, letting the soft kiss of her muscles draw every last drop from him.
He became dimly aware that someone was shaking his arm, talking urgently into his ear, and looked up. It was Harley, his face in a delighted grin.
"Her old man's home," the little man was saying. "He's been on and off that telescope for the last five minutes--shouting and yelling for his wife!"
John's fogged mind, coming back to reality, struggled to realize the situation. "Can he see us?" he gasped.
"Sure," Harley laughed. "But he can only see his wife's body from the waist down. He watches for a few seconds, and then runs around the house and yard, yelling for the old lady!"
"So now, what do we do?" John asked.
"All we do is wait a minute," Harley chortled. "We sent little old hot-assed Melissa up to rape him!"
Nobody had ever accused Melissa of being chicken. Home girl or not, she carried a full charge of adventurous spirit in her gorgeous body. Standing in the Roveres' living room, she saw the profiled hardness of the big man's cock in the light that shone dimly from the room she was in. Roused to a point of automatic orgasm as she watched the professor sink his big cock into their enemy, she now stood poised on the balls of her feet, her pussy awake and seeking, lusting for anything to fill it. Anything hard, hot, and living.
As the big man bent his head again to the telescope, his breath loud and rasping, she ran across the porch, wrapped her naked arms around him, and reached around his muscular body to grasp the engorged pole of flesh and gristle. She heard and felt the long sigh as the man relaxed, slowly pumping his loins back and forth, so that he was fucking against the grasp of her hand, inside his shorts.
Some intuition informed her that he thought she was his wife, playing "guess who?", and quickly, wanting him to be beyond the point of no return when he discovered the deception, she worked first at his belt, loosening that, and then at his zipper, sliding his slacks and shorts down around his ankles, being careful to keep up a warm and gentle pressure on his stiff cock. On her knees behind him, her face was now pressed into his ass, and she not only licked wetly up and down his crack, but gave him a series of sharp little love bites which must have pleased him, for he pumped back and forth in her hand, keeping his eye glued to the spyglass.
"They're fucking that same broad again, baby," he said huskily. "A big guy that looks like--yeah, it is--that Goddamned Malone! Oh, baby, we've got them now!"
Melissa felt a hard trembling in the big deputy's buttocks, an increase in the dimensions and rigidity of his cock, and tugged him backward, using his shirt for a handle.
As he slid, laughing and lusting, to the carpeted terrace, she moved back, eased his torso down so that his back was flat on the deck, and swung on thigh over his face. Before he could do more than gasp out an angry expletive, she had her hot and dripping cunt plastered to his mouth, opened her lips to take in his massive column, and went down on it so hard and fast that its cushioned purple head thudded against the back of her throat.
"This woman has me puzzled just a little," Carol Malone whispered to Pam. "You'd think that such a mealy-mouth would be screaming her head off, but look at her--fucking like a mink! First the professor, now Jim. And if you ask me, she's having more fun than the men!" She and her hostess were both down on knees and elbows, one on each side of the straining bodies, their eyes only a few inches from where the heavy cock was plunging into the open red slash of Helen's pussy.
They were both far gone in personal heat, not only from the lascivious sight so near their faces. The warm, smooth belly of chubby little Harley was locked against Carol's rump, his hips rotating as he massaged her cunt walls with his long cock, and Christine, on her back between Pam's knees, kept her hard-working tongue in contact with the blonde pussy above her by strong arms wrapped up and over Pam's back.
"Jesus," groaned Harley, leaning forward to rest his face on Carol's back, "I'm about to spill it, baby!" He pinched one of Carol's breasts yearningly. "Can you make it?"
The flash of pleasure-pain from tit to belly sent the redhead into a spiraling, shuddering orgasm. "I'm making it!" she groaned, collapsing with her head against Helen's thigh.
Del tapped Harley on the shoulder. "I think our little girl scored, up there on the hill," he said excitedly. "I just heard a guy yell, like he was getting his cock caught in a wringer! Look!"
There was enough light coming from the Roveres' living room to silhouette the buxom contours of Melissa. They could not see her face, but there was no mistaking that lovely body standing triumphantly on the broad rail of the terrace above. Nor was there any doubt about the garment she waved like a banner. It was a man's trousers.
"Okay, Del," Harley laughed. "Douse the big light. No use in him seeing that we've been balling his old lady." The little man helped Jim up from the still moving body of the interloper. Snoop or not, Harley thought, she was a beauty. Her eyes were closed, her face peaceful, with just the hint of a smile. The dark nipples on her gently heaving breasts were hard, tautly erect, and her gently rounded belly, shining with sweat, was apparently still affected by the flash of orgasm. Her thick bush of cunt hair was now wetly matted by sperm and her own juices, and these mingled fluids bathed her inner thighs and had gathered in a small pool under her ass.
"Let's send her home, now," Harley advised. "Unless you want to fuck her, Del?" Del, standing in the small glow of an insect-repellent lamp, his cock standing out and up from the brown hair at the base of his belly, shook his head.
"I think she's just about had it, for a while, at least," the slim dandy laughed. He looked about him. John was crouched over the billowy little body of Marina, licking her boobs. Jim and Carol sat on one of the pads, whispering together. Big Christine and Pamela, arms around each other, were exchanging wet and clinging kisses on a padded bench in the shadows under the trees. Del put a big hand around his hard-on and pointed it vaguely up the hill. "I think I'll save this one for Melissa," he smiled.
Harley escorted the silent Helen to the redwood gate of the rear patio. "You fooled me, baby," he said, giving her an appreciative pinch on her firm bottom, now encased again in her black dress.
"You didn't do too bad!"
He gripped one of her arms and turned her to face him. "But you and that husband better get one thing straight! Listen to me real good, unless you want him to spend the rest of his life on a lousy desk job, answering phones and filing complaints!" His voice was not less threatening because he kept it light and easy.
"You tell him that he's fucking around with friends of Harley Duke," the little man said. "And if he doesn't know who Harley Duke is, he can ask his boss, Sheriff Boyles, or any county official. Tell him I double-dare him to come down here and make a pinch."
Harley's cock, now recovered from his blasting orgasm in Carol Malone's cunt, was beginning to stand out on a fat, hanging slant from his belly. To his utter surprise, the dark girl patted it softly, and smiled calmly.
"Okay, Mr. Duke," she whispered. "Thanks for the information. And tell John--Professor Lamberson, that is--that I said thanks for everything." She went through the gate and into the darkness, leaving Harley to ponder her last words.
There was a burst of laughter from the patio behind him, and he turned back, his face lighting in a smile of anticipation, and ambled back, slowly stroking his rising prick.