Paganini's Tale - Part 4

Chapter 18

Her pussy was plundered, invaded, and she felt like an Amazon conquered by a hairy barbarian during the fall of the Tribe. The mophandle in the crook of her elbows, holding tight her shirt-bound hands in front of her while the wooden handle rubbed her vertebrae, that mophandle was a spearshaft, and the hand in her hair smelled of battle.

Abruptly she came back to reality: the chemical fruit smells of cleaners and solvents mingled with the perfume of humans in rut. She couldn't help groan as her lover's iron fuckaxe plunged back into her. He rammed into her, in complete control of everything.

Now he lifted her with the handle behind her back, lowering her onto his prong, the top of his thighs a cushion for the bottoms of hers. She was propelled into another fantasy:

She and her lover have perfected a trapeze act--the fuck- pass in mid-air. Swooping down into the air, holding precariously to the bar, the two trapezes approach, she backwards, legs spread, him with his legs back and his stiff cock aiming like a dart toward her pussy.

The crowd below falls into a hush of anticipation as the first thrust is attempted. They both release their holds, and in mid-air collide with inhuman precision, a perfection of impact and angle that spins them each to the other's trapeze, where they begin their swings for the next fuck.

The crowd roars its approval, and in mid-swing she appraises the crowd below: all eyes up, open-mouthed at the awe- inspiring fucking going on above their heads.

The swing through the air is a delerious rush, a controlled falling, her pussy aching for the next surge of manmeat into her pussy, and as she rushes toward in it in a swift arc, her legs splay in expectation. The crowd seems to take a simultaneous breath, and again they collide, the slapping sound resounding through the big top, getting groans of shared lust from the crowd below.

Again they grip the other's trapeze, and the swing back is thrilled by the roar of the crowd, the moans, and now as she looks down she sees the cocks of half the men, out, some being beaten off by silent hands, others, in the mouths of wives, girlfriends, or women overcome by the erotic flying trapeze act above them.

She swung in the practiced parabolic arc, her tits riding high on her rib cage. Her pussy rang like a huge bell. She could feel her pussy juice dripping off in the centrifugal force, running down her legs, baptizing the onlookers with the dew of her snatch.

Their finale began, each of them changing their position on their trapeze, on the swoop downward to their meeting spot, high up, near the peak of the big top. She could see him now, the shaft of flesh standing out like a ship's mast from his crotch, and she spread her legs, and bent her knees, then when she let go, went into a backward somersault.

He met her first with his hard prick sliding into her hot pussy, then his hands grabbed at her tits as her heels jammed in on his buttocks, pulling him deeper into her heat.

They stopped in mid-air, brought to a halt by the cancelling of their momentum, and there was a moment when they both could look down on the vast orgy beneath them, seeing in still life the tangled naked bodies, the mouths on cocks, the pussys thrusting against pussys, the hands embedded, the roiling bodies writhing among the stands.

Spinning slightly, she and her lover began to fall, with each spin pulling a stroke off, thrusting into each other, bucking in a descending ballet. The crowd paid them no heed, for they were too busy now, and so the two fell, fucking furiously, down through the air until they hit the safety net like a trampoline.

Alice dug her heels in deeper, pulling him in again, afraid of losing him, losing his stiff cock, even as they bounced again on the mesh. Over and over they bounced, each time slightly less, but slightly more inside. Each time they landed one of them was on top, and the weight seemed to fuse their bodies together, welding them with the heat of lust.

Finally, as they rolled toward the center of the webbing, she began to come, feeling like a top wobbling off center, spinning in crazy angles in a last desperate attempt to stay on its point. She came in oscillations, rising toward a high-pitched scream.

Suddenly his hand covered her mouth. Her tongue could taste the salt on his palm. "You may have gone too far," his voice said into her ear.

"We may be all right. If it's a man, I think I will offer him some of you. Will you accept?"

She reeled, trying to get a grip on where she was, what he was asking, trying to see through the blindfold covering her eyes. . If who is a man, she thought, and what did I do? Her pussy burned with his cock inside it, still hard, still waiting for its turn. But she wanted more, she realized. Another cock would be fine. "Yes," she said. "Yes, please, that's what I want."

She could hear footsteps in the hallway: "Hello?" a deep voice said. "Anybody here?"

The cock pulled out of her, making Alice gasp. Then a shaft of light entered the janitor's room for the first time since she'd entered.

She heard whispered words. Then the door closed. She still was tied by the mop-handle, her elbows behind her back, with the handle sticking between biceps and back.

"You sure about this?" she heard as the man came in.

"Ask her."

"You really want this, miss?"

She hardly hesitated. "Yes. I want it."

"Just tell me if you don't, cause if you don't, I'll just..."

"I want your cock," Alice said in a low, throaty voice. "I want your stiff prick up inside me. Get hard, fast, I want you deep in me. Whoever you are, fuck me now."

She could hear the sound of his belt coming off, the zip of his fly. "Say, she's a hot one, isn't she. Does she like being called a whore?"

"Ask her."

"Do you like being called names?"

She paused. Did she? It all seemed so astounding anyway, she couldn't know, couldn't remember. She'd never really done that before, but the few times her new lover had used those terms, a small thrill had sung through her. "Go ahead," she said, "try me."

"God, mister, what a hot slut you have here. And what an ass." She felt a hot firmness probe at her thighs. "But jeez, I kinda wish I could see her better. Can we have some light?"

Alice cringed. No, she thought, that wouldn't work....

"No," her lover said. "That isn't part of the game. Fuck her, like she wants you to. Hard, fast, fuck her pussy deep, ream her out. Make her groan. Fuck this hot whore of mine. She wants two cocks.

"Fuck her pussy good, and I'll be ramming my hard prick into her throat. She loves to be filled with meat. Isn't that right, Alice."

Hearing her name, she almost rebelled, but just then the young salesman's cock found the lips of her pussy and slipped in. "Oh, God," he said, and Alice cried out "Yes!" as if in answer to his question.

"Yeah," the salesman continued, "oh shit, she's tight, what a pussy, it's hot as a fucking machine gun, yeah, what a fuck she is, oh, man..." and he pistoned into her, trying to get in as deep as he could.

Then she felt her lover's body before her, and in the faint light she could, see through the crack beneath the blindfold, his hard cock jutting out from the tangled darkness around his crotch. She opened her mouth, wetting her lips. "Yes," she whispered to that cock, "Come to me, fuck my mouth, I want you on my tongue. Yes, bring it in..." and then her words were smothered by his dense lovemuscle.

Never before had she had two cocks in her simultaneously. It was almost too much to bear. As if the cocks carried electricity, her body jolted and jerked. Her front lover pulled back, as if concerned that he was choking her, but she lunged back at his meat with such a hunger that he laughed and plunged back in.

Her throat felt open; like that first time she had let loose of her sphincter, suddenly it was easy to take him down her throat. Her mouth writhed around it like her pussy was writhing, and she felt herself become one long pussy, before and aft, a fucking receptacle, and she felt like she could taste the young man's cock with her pussy.

He began making ratcheting throat noises, his pumping took on a frenetic pace, and he gripped her hips more tightly. Her lover's pace increased too, and he took her head in his hands, caressing her ears while fucking deep into her mouth, using her cheekbones as a brace.

In the small part of her mind untouched by the eroticism of the moment, she was amazed that she was taking anything as big as his shaft down her throat. She was astounded that she could be so aroused by a strange man's prick in her quim. And she was deliciously pleased that she could be so decadent.

Hot jism jetted into her pussy, and she could feel it in her stomach, like hot caramel spattering her intestines. An instant later, she gulped as her lover's come spewed out. She pulled back just enough to feel the spume gushing out his cock on her tongue. She held both of them in as they softened. Then she pushed out the boy's prick with a pussyal squeeze, and with a sucking kiss allowed her lover's prick to slip out of her mouth.

"Uh, gee, thanks, Mister," the young man's voice said, and she realized that he must have deepened his voice when he first came in, that he had been afraid. "That was great. You, uh, you two can come back anytime. Just ask for Danny, okay? Suh, see you."

And he went out the door.

Chapter 19

Her breast hovers like a moon above, silhouetted by the faintly-lit window. Shadowed phallus approaches, glisten of juice glimmering on its tip, to touch her nipple. Slowly it draws away, the precome spinning a one-stranded web between them.

Only one of the three can see it: "You're weaving a one-stranded web," he says, pointing; they both look, laugh.

"Enough to snare," the man behind the cock says. "They're coming along so well. Alice is a natural. The way she came with Danny inside her, the way her lips undulated around my cock. She was randy indeed.

"Keeps that cock hard just thinking about it, doesn't it?" Her voice is low, mellifluous. "Bring it here. I want it between my cheeks. I'll let you decide which ones."


The other one clears his throat. "Care for two?"

"Wherever you want..."--her voice stays low--"just don't come too quickly."

"Don't I always come on cue?"

She smiles: her cheeks gleam white in the faint light.

"You bet. Though sometimes the cue is yours...." and with that she takes the plump smooth sponge of his cockhead in her mouth, moaning low and slow. A groan pushes out of her as the man behind her pushes in to the juice of her pussy. Three strokes, and he pulls out again. Her mouth moves with the gyrations of her ass, seeking the hot spear behind her.

He moves up a notch, pressing against her dark rosebud. She pulls her mouth away from the shaft in front of her, hissing "Yesss..."

He pushes a bit more, and the pussy-slickened head of his cock slips in. She makes a hard "o" of her mouth, and pushes against the cockhead in front of her, letting its head pop into her mouth, and is rewarded with an appreciative groan. With her mouth she mimics the assfucking she gets. As he pushes deeper in, and deeper still, she lets in more and more of the cock into her mouth, her tongue dancing on the ridges and veins as it slides in. All three groan, in surprising unison.

Their laugh is unstoppable, and it builds to hysteria as their laughter tickles the other: the mouth on the cock, the cock in the ass, the jiggles of body against body, and in their laughter they all roll different directions, disengaging, laughing, moaning, laughing some more.

"Three much!" one of them cried, and laughter began anew.

Then the woman's voice, finally catching her breath: "nothing's more empty than something recently filled. C'mon, you two, fill me back up!"

And then their laughter took on a different tone, rapidly changing to sighs of pleasure.

Chapter 20

Larry took a sip of his beer, grinning through the glass at Winston, his friend from work. Lunch with him had become a habit on odd days when their schedules coincided. Though only with the company for three months, Winston had already demonstrated his ability, and Larry liked him personally. Warm, confident without arrogance, interesting... Larry was glad Winston had joined the company.

This lunch, he'd risked bringing up sexuality, first obscurely, then gradually more directly. Since Winston seemed comfortable with it, Larry continued:

"...and she's this sudden wildness in my life. Unpredictable. Out of the ordinary. Completely unexpected. I mean, I'm attractive enough, but not the sort of guy who girls get hot for just by looking at me. Nor am I the kind of guy who goes out looking for an affair and then blames it on being seduced. I was seduced, and I hadn't even seen her before. I hadn't played up to her at all. It's just so wild..."

"How erotic is it?"

Larry stumbled on the question: "uh, how erotic, well..., uh..."

"What I mean is, it sounds like the ideas about the sexuality is almost more arousing than the actual sex itself. Although you haven't told me how, shall we say, graphic the sex is with this woman, I get the idea that it's pretty hot.

Larry grinned again. "Hot it certainly is. Erotic it certainly is. That woman could light a match with her look. It's like she's way out of my league. Like talking psychology with a mindreader. It's not so much that she's better in terms of skill. But the way she makes it happen, the lust she inspires...."

Suddenly Larry realized what he was saying out loud, to someone he really didn't know all that well. For a moment he was embarrassed at revealing so much, but then he heard Winston start to speak:

"Yes, I've known a few women like that. One I remember best. Her desire, her lust was so powerful it was a drug for me. Such an altered state--I would come to my senses afterward amazed that the world wasn't changed. She said she was in touch with the Goddess, and I couldn't rightly say that she was wrong. Yet I know we all have that in us. I've tapped those nerves in women myself. Am I in touch with the God? Connected to something, anyway, in touch with some part of us that is magical."

Then Winston, who had been looking up at the chandelier as he spoke, realized he'd begun to ramble, and brought himself short, laughing. "Listen to me! I hope I didn't embarrass you. But it's good to talk about these things. You know."

Larry nodded. "Yeah, and I think that this affair, this... this event I'm having with "Sophia" is making it easier for me to talk about it. I'm remembering things, sort of, sort of waking up to parts of me I hadn't realized were asleep.... if you know what I mean."

"Absolutely," Winston said, and then looked at his watch. "Shit," he said, instantly animated, "It's 1:30! I've got to meet Evans down at the plant in ten minutes!"

"Okay," Larry said, dismayed only that the conversation had to quit, "You go on, take off, I'll get the bill. You can get next time."

Winston grinned, standing. "Thanks, buddy. See you later on." And he was off.

Larry sipped the last of his beer, sitting alone at the cluttered table, enjoying a few rare moments to himself. He put money on the little tray that held the bill. Then he rose to go back to work.

She met him as he was leaving the restaurant, wearing a laced white blouse beneath a jet-black jacket. "I watched you eat. I watched you talk. Your lips moved nicely. I have another assignation for you. Do you want it?"

He didn't hesitate. "I want it."

They continued to walk briskly. "What do you want."

"I want my cock in your pussy." Larry smiled, thinking of the one-line eavesdroppers passing them.

"You want my cock in my pussy."

"I want my cock to be your cock in your wet pussy."

Her dagger heels struck the cement sharply, clacking with each step. "Then listen. Tonight at 6:30 you will arrive at Jackrabbit's, over on 87th. Come alone. Come with your cock hardened. We'll see what happens."

He started to object: what would he tell Alice? But he could immediately think of half a dozen reasonable lies, and even the best truth: he'd be busy until mid-evening. And so he simply allowed the fluttering in his chest to continue. "Jackrabbit's. 6:30. It's a date."

She turned to look up at him then, her dark eyes mascaraed and shadowed, her mouth in a smirk. "This will be a new one," she said, and then, reaching out with her hand, gave his cock a squeeze there in the middle of the sidewalk. "Tonight, then," she said, and turned to walk back the way they'd come.

Jackrabbit's smelled of stale beer and too-loud catcalls settling like a layer of dust after every night, to coat the gelled lights above the lacquered-pine stage, dulling the sequins spangling the walls. Smoke came from a smog machine that masked the air, made it muggy and thick; the noise, the rhythmic music, the thrums of bass and bass drums, the raucous screams, the undercurrent of shouted conversations. A strip joint, where almost all the chairs faced the stage, and all the chairs filled by women.

Mostly older women, fat women, bowling-club women, ladies' auxiliary women, office pool women. Women out for a good time, a time apart from their lives, women not looking to be picked up, since there were probably only a handful of men here. Women out to watch.

And up there on the stage, making his silk-sacked privates swing around in circles, a well-built man danced. Fives and tens were pushed through and around the string around his hips holding the sack on; the bills clustered around his crotch, where the women's fingers got a touch of some soft flesh.

And as he watched, an overly-plump woman with flabby upper arms jiggling in her polyester knit top reached up with a twenty. The dancer began doing a limbo-like dance up to her spot by the stage, shimmying his ass, stroking his thighs as he scooted forward. Hoots and squeals resounded around: the woman was licking her lips, making the most of her twenty.

The dancer got within a foot of her, his knees at the level of her shoulders, his crotch near her face. She stroked the silk sack with the twenty, in circular motions, and he played back at her, circling his pelvis toward her. And as Larry watched, he heard the shrill screams change their tenor, as well as their pitch, nearly drowning out the music. He squinted to see what the dancer was doing.

Then he finally realized what it was: the dancer's silk pouch was starting to push up--the man was getting a hard-on, and the woman with the stroking twenty kept playing at it, licking her lips some more, raising her eyebrows in overplayed amazement, while the crowd cheered their pleasure. The stripper's prick got larger, changing the dimensions of the pouch till it was tight as a puptent, a black silk spearhead of magnum proportions.

The dancer was grinning, humping the air, lapping at the lights as if they were the woman's pussy, and she, laughing, cackling, slips the twenty in at the top of that spear, her hand lingering, gripping the hard knob of his phallus. After letting her feel him for a few seconds, he backed away, shaking his finger at her, telling her she was a naughty girl.

A voice behind him: "This is just decadence. The real show is in the back. Follow me."

He turned and saw her glove-tight blackjeaned ass move away from him, and he followed, slipping between the women standing, drinking, appraising. More than one hand reached between his legs as he walked by to stroke his balls, grab his ass.

Sophia reached the back wall. She ducked into the men's room; he followed. In the middle stall an "out of order" sign was stuck on the door, but she pushed in, and he saw as he came up behind her that the flusher was a latch, and the back wall a door.

They entered a dark and narrow corridor, barely enough room for two people to pass if they hugged each other. Faintly lit. The sounds from the main room were muffled. And other sounds, more muffled still, came from up ahead.

They squeezed ahead, Larry smelling the faint musky perfume that he associated so strongly with her; it smelled almost like her pussy tasted: deeply textured, a funk of desire. Over her shoulder, he could see light thrown into the corridor. And he began to be able to discriminate the sounds.

Fucking sounds. Grunts, moans. Lusty anguish. Cries of delight. And then they arrived, and Larry looked over the tableau:

A three-tiered circular arena. On the top tier, women lounged in various states of dress, one on the right naked but for the push-up bra, another in a teddy, but with her thumb stuffed deep into her pussy. Altogether, perhaps a dozen watchers reclining in a rough circle around the second circular tier, where five women lay with their legs spread, a five-pointed star inside of which stood two men, on the bottom tier, the circle around which the other two were built, each with his prong embedded in a woman, and both hands busy with the women next to the ones being fucked.

They stood in the doorway, unnoticed. Larry watched as one of the men, a black man with wiry muscles, pulled his cock slowly out of the 45-year old woman in front of him. After pulling out perhaps six inches of black prick, Larry expected the head to come out, but he kept pulling back, as inch after slick inch slid out of the wet pussy. Amazed, Larry focused, squinting, not believing the prodigious length of the cock below. At least a foot long, sticking out proud and rampant from a dark mass of curls.

The woman losing it moaned in dismay, then cooed when his fingers replaced his dong. He moved his bat of a cock to the next woman, whose fat thighs opened for him, revealing a deep red gash sloppy and glistening from masturbation. He easily slid in, and there was a collective sigh around the room.

Larry felt his cock hardening. Seventeen women, two men. Three, with him. Sophia looked at him, grinning. "I've brought you here to show my cock off. This is the Stud Room. You are my stud. Now strip. Show off my meat."

She hadn't spoken loudly, but since nobody else was speaking, nearly all eyes but those delirious in the inner ring turned toward them. Lots of smiles, from women who for the most part were attractive. All of them were flushed with sexual excitement, all nipples that he could see were hard, and all that looked at him were looking with lustful approval.

His cock lurched inside his pants, clearly having a mind of its own: it wanted out, and then in again. Sophia helped it out by unzipping and unbuckling his pants. "His name is Brett," she said loudly. "He is my cock. I put him at our disposal. He will do whatever he is called upon to do. Isn't that right, Brett?"

Larry half-embarassedly grinned. "That's right," he said to her, then looked around the room, directly into the eyes of those who he might be fucking soon. Some murmured to each other, others licked their lips; he spoke again to the group at large, "We'll all have some fun tonight." He felt brazen.

"You don't think we aren't already, cock?" a woman's harsh voice took the wind out of his sail. "But you look good enough to me. She brings you, you've got to be good. Bring that big cock of yours down into the circle." She was a slender fifty, breasts loose beneath a gauze top, naked from the waist down. Her legs weren't bad at all. She stood, and gracefully moved down toward the inner circle, taking the two-foot drops with ease. "I want you first. Come on in."

Larry felt like a servent in the employ of royalty: this was like the debauches hinted at in some of the textbooks he'd read, the orgies of the nobility in the eighteenth century. The Duchess' mountain retreat, where gigolos were imported for an evening's entertainment for all her friends.

As he made his way past the women, hands grabbed his butt, his balls, his hard-on. Tweaks, yanks interspersed the caresses, but all of these women wanted him. He was an object for them, to gratify their desires. And it didn't feel that bad. His cock stuck out, a beefy rod that Larry felt proud of. It wasn't as long as the black man's, but it was dense, thick, and ready. With each step, it bobbed.

The Duchess changed the pentangle to a hexagon of spread legs by squeezing between a blonde (whose wife was that? whose mother? he thought, they have no idea she is like this) and the woman who owned the snatch the black man's fingers were still buried in. The black man grinned at Larry as he approached.

Head thrown back, the Duchess leaned back on straight arms, her knees bent, her thighs spread. "Bring that randy cock to me. Stick it in my pussy. I'm ready for it. I've been watching for too long, and I want that prick in me. Bring it here, pretty boy, bring that thick hunk of meat over here."

The last step was three feet down, a depth that allowed him to stand almost upright, his cock just above pussy-level. Standing between his legs, his cock lay pulsing atop her pubic hair. He tensed a muscle, and his cock jumped, then slapped back down against her. He repeated it, giving his cock the impression of independent life. The Duchess laughed with honest pleasure.

"Oh, Irene," she called back at "Sophia," "great cock you found here. Looks like it'll burrow into me like a prairie dog!"

He laughed along with the rest, and then, holding the Duchess' knees in each hand, guided his cock down toward her opening. His cockhead lodged into her notch.

"Ready to be fucked?" Larry said with bravado. Their eyes met.

"Sure, honey, I'm ready as hell. Now fuck me, you bastard cock. Fuck me deep and wide."

Their eyes lingered, blazing into each other; he wanted some mastery here, and it was like she was daring him to please her. Go ahead and try. Just try to make me come.

He took it as a challenge. Twisting his pelvis up, he kept pressure on the top of her pussy against her pubic bone as he entered her, scraping the top of her vagina with the ridges of his prick.

Slowly, easily, moving slightly side to side, his cock forced itself into her furrow. Her eyes widened just a little once he was halfway in and she could feel the girth of his cock swollen inside her.

Round and around he moved, rotating her thighs from her knees, now her ankles, and he held her ankles up high and pulled her entire body suddenly up and in to his cock. She groaned.

From behind he could hear admiring commentary: "I haven't seen that move in ten years," a woman's voice said. Larry felt proud, and pressed on, and in, grinding pubis against pubis, yanking her pelvis in the direction that seemed right.

The air itself was swollen with the smells of fucking, the odor of lust. Everyone had only one main theme in their minds: sex. Larry could only join in, and it seemed to make him more perceptive a lover. He could read her perfectly, gauging the everchanging desires of her pussy and modifying his technique accordingly. Pressing down to achieve the right angle. Canting his hips to rub the right side, at the right pace. The Duchess was beginning to writhe.

The woman on his right watched from close up, a foot away, sighing, watching, breathing on the joinings of their bodies. The Duchess, whose tight clothes pushed hard against her skin, began gutteral thrums in her throat timed to her writhes. A low call to the reaches, the distance, the wilderness of orgasm. Larry listened and was amazed.

He knew precisely what moves to make, felt in complete control because he'd mastered the connection. He rode in low, crushing the membrane between pussy and tube, aiming for atop the cervix with his tip. Bearing sideways to stroke the dark chamber behind her cervix, which exists just for man. Rising up as he drew out of her, to stretch out the labia tightly. And the Duchess was lost in the sensations.

Beside him, between them, the woman breathed, and now began to lap at skin, paint shafts of cold evaporation up their flesh, touch and soothe and pinch. "Fuck, yes, oh fuck, you two fuck each other, slam in there, move around, yesss... yes you do it so well, keep on fucking, fucking, it is so beautiful, so good, fucking each other...."

And around them, the audience, the other couples fucking, the hands in snatches and tongues in mouths. The sounds of group arousal. The scent of cooze and semen, sweat, and pants. Larry was amazed. "Fuck, yes, up now, up high in her snatch, and you, fuck him back, yes, twist those hips, writhe, baby, writhe..." and the Duchess' rumbles were turning to a roar, and the woman's voice was rising in pitch to breathless screams, "yes come, baby, come, come hard, go on over, let it go, come you bitch, come you slut, don't you love it, let it go, feel like that whore, let that harlot come out and fuck him back, fuck him back, take in, take it all in..."

And his cock felt terrific. Incredibly tight, strong, sensitive, and in control. The pleasure was lasting. He could relish it without having to fight against coming. The pleasure just rolled on and on, and he felt free.

Then he looked up, over the bucking woman beneath him, over the woman whispering diamonds from the gutter, over the large woman with her hand in her pussy, thumb and all, then over the pair of lovelies enwrapped in themselves, all lips and tits and legs; over them all, he matched eyes with Sophia. The wild woman. The dark woman. The vampiress, and he saw her eyes flashing blazing crashing down through him and he flashed the power right back at her, and then they understood somehow, made a pact, and then they were done.

Larry reached under the Duchess' arched back and jammed his cock deep into her. She was just to the edge, and so he pulled back and rammed into her again, and then again, gradually accelerating, picking up speed and power, till his hammer was pounding as fast as he possibly could, and the Duchess began to shout with every other thrust, the tempo building to a tremendous gutteral roar.... then she went limp, her chest heaving, a smile of satisfied delight on her face. Her eyes fluttered, and then she smiled again.

Larry's cock was still hard. He looked up to Sophia.

"Hey, Isabella," the woman beneath him panted, "this cock of yours is choice. Do you rent him out?"

Larry watched Sophia's face shift into a smile; their eyes lanced again. "No," she said, "He's an independent contractor. But you'll still have to talk to me. Brett, put that cock away. We have elsewhere to go."

Chapter 21

The lips of Alice's pussy throbbed. Her clit felt like a pencil eraser rubbed down to the nub. As she picked up socks, shirts, blouses, and the other dirty laundry littering their bedroom, Alice squeezed her legs together when she got the chance. In the background she could hear the bathwater running hot and steamy. Her body ached for the salve of a long bath.

She couldn't get rid of the smile that kept creeping up to the corners of her mouth, whenever she thought back over the afternoon's encounter. In Sears, no less! And that salesman, or whatever, Danny, with his strong lean cock, as much a surprise for him as for her. She remembered the feel of his cock slipping inside her and smiled again.

The laundry was piled onto the basket; she turned off the bathwater and tested the temperature, stroking the rippled surface with the tips of her fingers. She felt luxurious: the bath oils smelled like a garden of soft ferns. The towel awaiting her was large and thick. And the water was... just a little too hot.

Like maybe I am, she thought, and grinned at herself in the full-length mirror. Then she faced herself, legs spread as if braced against the center of the earth. First she unsnapped skirt fasteners and unwrapped her hips. She wore no underwear. Then she unbuttoned her white blouse in a slow striptease. Bits of lace began to show, and she pulled the tails of her blouse down, tightening the fabric against her soft-brassiered breasts. Nipples poked through enough to show.

The white cloth slipped off her smooth shoulders, and gently, gently, she withdrew her hand from the sleeve, relishing the lines of her arms and torso. The other sleeve, and then a cross-armed pulling off of her bra, fast enough to set her jugs bouncing. She stared at herself, as she had before, appraising, criticizing.

But this time she could see herself with a new eye. There was compaction there. She could see the sex lines to her body. Those curves that move toward tits and pussy like roads to Rome.

Nature had sculpted her body for fucking--solid, wide-tipped tits, ample hips, slim waist, tight thighs. Full lips, still pouting slightly from the reaming of the afternoon.

She pulled her hands up her belly to her chest, cupping each breast in a hand, offering them to herself in the mirror. She posed for herself: one round moon out, looking over her shoulder, one hand between her legs. Then a falsely demure Betty Grable pose. Then a raunchy movie pose, one hand on her snatch, one pinching her nipple hard, and her mouth a sensuous pout of lips wanting to taste cock.

The temperature of the water was just right now, and so she stepped into it, wincing at the delicious heat. Then gradually lowered herself, feeling the searing of her buttocks, the sharp jab with the water reached her asshole, then her chafed pussy, and finally her sensitized clit... then on up her stomach and back as she reclined against the gold back of the tub.

Alice soaked in perfumed splendor for fifteen minutes, then arose and put the casserole in the oven to heat while she dressed. She had on her brassiere and panties when she heard Larry's car drive up. She put on her blue silk robe and loosely tighed it with the sash, then went to the door to greet him.

"I didn't expect you home so soon," she said as she kissed him hello. "When you say late usually you mean late. But you're in luck. Dinner's almost ready. I wasn't hungry, so I haven't eaten either."

Larry smiled as he tightened his arms around his wife. "Good. I'm sure hungry."

Larry made drinks while they chatted about nothing: the same old things at the office, some minor updates on office gossip, and the like. Alice noticed while they talked that Larry's eyes were on the opening of her robe where her cleavage showed, and to the flash of thigh that the robe showed when she moved. Alice began to subtly change how she moved and sat to give him a better eyeful.

A slight bulge began to appear in his pants. She smiled, pleased with the power of her body to arouse. Their conversation meandered, until she brought the undercurrent of sexuality out into the open. "I love watching your cock get full behind your zipper," she said, shocking even herself.

Larry looked embarrassed, and almost turned his hips away from her, but then checked himself and brought himself around to face her fully. He took a breath. "And I love watching your tits bounce under that silk. You're a babe, you know that?"

He moved toward the sofa she was sitting on. "I also love the way we've been, lately, with each other. I mean...."

The pause almost became awkward, but she saved it for him, afraid that if it got uncomfortable, they would get embarrassed, and fall back on the old safe ways. And those safe ways looked too much like grey clouds for her to allow that. "I know what you mean," she said, "I'm glad too. It's so... so erotic to talk about it directly."

He smiled. "Talk about what directly?"

She smiled back, seeing what he was doing, and playing right back to him. "Talking about fucking, and bodies, and cocks, and pussys."

"Plural?" he asked, tauntingly.

"How hot do you want me to be?"

"As hot as you are."

"I'm real hot. I have thoughts that are whorish and crude. I feel like a slut sometimes just for thinking them."

He was close beside her, and he slid his hand beneath the blue silk; her skin was more smooth than the fabric, and her tit felt heavy in his hand.

"You can't shock me," he murmured. "You have no idea how many crude thoughts I have. And I'll tell them to you if you tell me yours."

She leaned back, taking a deep breath to push her breast into his hand. "I love it when you touch me like you want me. Like I'm a woman, rather than your wife. Pinch my nipples, just a little. Yes, like that, oooh, that sends hot flashes through me."

Her hands caressed his shoulders, his chest; snuck between his buttons to play with his chest hair. Then her fingers moved down, and pushed behind his belt. Her nails made the soft flesh above his pubes shrink and shudder. His cock thrust painfully against his pants.

"I'm going to suck you off," Alice said to him, moving down off the couch to kneel between his legs. "and I want you to tell me the dirty things you think about. Then I want you to suck me off and I'll do the same." She was unzipping him, and he nodded, amazed to see Alice, pretty, chaste Alice between his legs leering at the cock bulging beneath the white cotton underwear.

"Yess... yes, I'll tell you, I'll tell you a few of the dirty things I think. But get those lips around my shaft before I chicken out. Suck on me, baby, mouth my cock."

She pulled the manmeat out, gasping at the tautness of his lovemuscle. "Oh, Larry, you're so hard, I can see the veins pulsing. I love this cock. I've always loved it, but I could never tell you." She lapped up at it, her tongue broad and wet, from the root up to the purple tip.

Suddenly Larry realized that he hadn't showered since screwing the Duchess at Jackrabbit's back room. His cock, no doubt, was coated with the dried cream of that fuck. Alice would taste it, could probably smell it even now, and there was nothing he could do about it. He certainly couldn't take a shower now.

But he could take the moment and run with it. Show her that she didn't need to be threatened. Show her that she could do the same....

"That mouth of yours, god, you're (oohh) good, yes," he said, as her mouth enfolded his purple helmet, "yesss...."

He cleared his throat. "Sometimes I think about you fucking. I remember what you can be like fucking, and wonder what it would be like to watch you fucking someone. Yes, suck it in, oh, Alice, that tongue....

"Someday I want to see you with some stud-stalk in your mouth while I fuck you from behind. That's something I think about. I think about hearing from your lips, those talented lips, about how it felt to have a cock in your pussy while mine was in your ass. Oh, god, Alice, that mouth..."

Alice made her tongue a circular lathe smoothing the already smooth skin of his hard pecker. She could taste the other woman's juices on his cock, but oddly, she didn't even mind that much. At first, she had been aghast, but as soon as her tongue touched his shaft, she was just amused. So he's fucking somebody else, too she thought, and then, if this is the result, then I'm all for it.

She could hear his throat sporadically tightening as he talked, whenever she would take his column down deep, and so she began to take him rhythmically, using the skills she'd recently learned from her mystery lover. Her throat opened more than it ever had with Larry before, and she was loving every touch of his thick hot cock in her mouth.

She groaned, then lunged back at his cock, down, pubic hairs tickling the end of her nose, then back up, smacking her lips. The other woman's juices and scent gave the blowjob a decadent perversity which perfectly matched what was going on.

Larry was losing track of his train of thought. Alice's burning tongue was nearly all he could think of. "God, Alice, god you're good, what a cocksucker, jesus, oh man, suck me, yes, oh, you whore, suck it deep now..." and thinking when did she decide she liked sucking cock? Maybe she has a lover? That would even things up, now wouldn't it? But man, am I benefiting from that shit...

Alice's head began to bob, as her lips encircled the head at each rising, keeping her teeth from tearing his skin as he thrust up into her mouth. He began to buck as she grabbed the base of his wang and jacked him off with her fist as she rammed down with her mouth.

The effect was just what she wanted. He felt encased, engulfed, as if his cock was being dissolved into her mouth. He took her face in both hands, feeling her cheeks sunken with sucking, and held her face as he shoved his ramrod into her mouth. With her fist at the base, he knew he couldn't hurt her, so he could thrust as hard as he liked. She was so obviously loving every minute of the suckjob that he knew whatever he wanted, she wanted too.

So he rammed into her, his breath coming in gasps, pants, and he grunted out his words: "god, yes, suck it, fuck, yes, I'm fucking your face, you're sucking my cock, suck it, yeah, suck it, oh you whore, you sweet slut, suck me off, yess, oh god yes, I'm going to come, yes, oh god oh god o gaaaAAGHhh oh shit god yes, fuck oh fuck, yes...."

His come was more of a gusher than she'd expected, especially if he got laid earlier in the day. But the sweet cream pumped out faster than she could swallow, and some dribbled past her lips and down his cock. She sucked more gently now, almost massaging his softening sausage with her lips. She smiled up at his face, his closed eyes, his splayed arms, the tie slightly askew, one forelock of hair falling in an unruly curl on his forehead.

She smiled as she sucked the last droplets from the hole at the end of his tube. She was getting to be a good cocksucker. Mostly because now she loved it. Such direct control. Sucking him, she had completely possessed his cock for that time. She liked that.

Alice let him catch his breath for a few moments, then climbed up, knees on his thighs, then put her feet onto the couch. He looked up at her, with her legs on either side of his hips, towering over him. Still leaned back, his head on the back of the couch, he watched her untie the sash and let her blue robe come completely open.

Her breasts jutted out, her belly was a soft roundness, and her sweet pussy lay open above him. She began to bend her knees, slowly, so that her snatch would lower inch by inch.

"Now it's my turn," she said, "my turn to tell you my dirty thoughts. Suck on my clit, move your tongue within my lips. Eat me, Larry, here comes my pussy, moving down. Stick out that tongue of yours, get it slick, get it ready.

"My thoughts are dirty, Larry, filthy and sluttish. I loved hearing you want strange cocks in me." She was two inches away from his open mouth, her pussy so hot she could almost imagine the drips of juice running down her thighs. Like her pussy was drooling for his tongue.

She bent the final inches in a rush, grinding her gash against his tongue, lips and chin. She groaned "ohh, Larry, ohhh, yes...," then positioned one knee up atop the couch, giving him easy access to the inner walls of her tube. "Lick me, lick me deep. Ohh, yes, lap it around, up around my clit. Flick it, yes, oh god yes...

"You're so good, god, yes, eat me out, you bastard, yes suck me. I imagine sucking someone's cock while you eat me out. A young man's cock, long and rock-hard. He groans and tells you what a great cocksucker you've got. You tell him you know, and that he should taste how good I am. Then, he lays down and pulls me over his face. `Sit on my face,' he says. And then you move behind my ass.

"Beneath my pussy his mouth works like yours is, now, but then you begin to finger my ass, opening it, loosening my rosebud. Then you ease your cock slowly in to replace your finger. Just the tip at first. You feel your balls bounce on the forehead of the young man beneath you."

Larry's hands, which had been squeezing her inner thighs, now moved up to squeeze her butthams. His index finger spiraled around, homing in on her brownie, while his tongue mimicked the motion around her clit. Tongue and fingertip found their mark at the same time, and Alice groaned as he began to press against her tight asshole.

His amazement was only matched by his excitement at seeing his wife, hearing his wife act like a wanton whore. She was backing into his intruding finger. Even more amazingly, he could feel himself hardening again, not more than five minutes after coming like a geyser.

He thrust his tongue deep into her pussy, then withdrew it to moisten his finger. With the lubrication, he began to enter the wrinkly button, rippling the folds of skin and muscle. Round and round his finger moved, into a dark pit that he'd never entered before.

Alice gyrated her ass on his impaling finger, pushing his finger deeper into her chute. Her belly began to burn. "Your cockhead is inside now, and the pressure keeps increasing. The man's tongue is like a flickering flame, and then a hot iron, working my cock like a bear at a salt lick. But that cock in my ass starts to hurt, a good hurt, but I can't tell how much it's going to hurt.

"I begin to struggle, and you grab my wrists and pull them behind my back." She brought her arms behind her. With his free left hand, he held her wrists. At best the hold he had on them was symbolic. He squeezed to help the fantasy along, as if her wrists were held fast.

"And I try to pull away, but you won't let me, you whisper in my ear that it's all right, you know I'll like it, you know it won't hurt more than I can stand, and I trust you, and want your cock in my ass. Your hot breath in my ear saying how much you want me, what a great whore I am, that to be a good slut I have to take it up the ass, and you bastard, you begin to push in farther, slowly, tantalizingly, gaining an inch, then stopping, making me want it."

His finger followed the instructions she was giving him by implication: he pushed another inch in, then stopped.

"You say, `say it, you sweet slut, tell me what you want,' and so I tell you, I say I want you to fuck me in the ass, stick that cock up by chute, ream me out, fuck my ass hard, like you mean it, and so you begin pushing deeper. The pain is a rage of pleasure that keeps pushing me higher and higher. Fuck my ass! I shout, fuck me hard, suck me hard, oh shit, deeper, deeper...."

His finger was in up to his knuckle, and he thrust it in and out, winding around her relaxing sphincter. He lapped as fast as he could, and she ground her pussy hard against his face. clit against nose and lips.

"Deeper, oh god you two fuckers bring out the whore in me, I love fucking and being fucked, yes, shove it in, you fucker, ram me, ram me, god yes, yes, Yes, YES AAAggghhhh! Oh GOD DAMN fuck me shit oh FUCK goddammit Oh fuck me hard harder oh YEAH! motherfucking oh shove that asshole oh yes, oh... ohh..." and she wilted down his suited chest.

His finger stayed in her asshole, and after a moment, he began to move it around again. Her moans gave him the go-ahead. She was oblivious to anything more than motion now, so he rolled her over, then over again, kneeling over with her tits on the couch, her ass in the air. On the second roll, his finger had stayed stationary while her ass rotated upon it; her gasp was full of passion.

"I'm going to fuck you in the ass, sweet Alice, my sweet slut, and you're going to love it. Because you are a whore, aren't you. Don't you want it. Don't you."

He took a risk, carrying the fantasy into reality. But the risk was worth it. She responded completely.

"Yes, anything, fuck me anywhere. I need your cock in me somewhere."

He pushed his finger in deep again, feeling way up inside a few firm pellets of shit. I'll pack that back, he thought to himself, but she has to be ready. This is a virgin asshole. I want her to want this again.

So before moving his marble-hard cock to her ass opening, he leaned over and spit on her crack, a drooly stream that he caught with his middle finger and used as a lubricant to push in as a second finger. Index and middle fingers squirmed inside her, and she gasped. "Oh, fuck me, yes, god that's so good, oh, yes...."

Then suddenly he withdrew both fingers and pulled back from her. Her ass involuntarily clutched at the open air. "Oh, god, put it back, my ass is hungry, jesus don't make me wait, fuck me..."

And he spit in his hand to coat his cockhead. Then he put it against her brown bud. "This is my cock," he told her. "Now I'm going to fuck your ass for real. Are you ready?"

"Yes, oh, yes, I'm ready for your thick cock in my ass. Oh yes I'm ready, don't make me wait, fuck me...."

His cock popped in, almost being grabbed by her sphincter, her buttmuscles. Her moons lay creamy beneath his hands as he splayed them out, to see her asshole.

The sight of his cock in Alice's forbidden tunnel astounded him, and almost made him come, but he stilled and regained control. Then he pushed onward, into that darkness, the moist channel of her bowels. Bit by bit he shoved his way in, urged on by Alice's cries. Finally he was in almost to the root.

He leaned over. "You like my cock in your ass, I can tell. You are a whore, aren't you, my whore, fucking my cock with your ass. Tell me that you like it, tell me how much you like my prick in your ass."

"I love it, fuck me with that prick, fuck my ass, fuck me like a truck through a tunnel fuck up to my belly, god I can feel you in my stomach, fucking me, jesus, fuck me, back, in, back, yes, god, plow me, plow me you bastard, fuck my ass, fuck my ass, yes..."

"I'm all the way inside you," he whispered hotly into her ear. Yes I'm deep, so deep, and now you're going to find out what a real assfucking is. Are you ready to get assfucked, you sweet slut?"

"Do it, plow me, ram me, fuck me hard, agh yes! yes! Ohhh, ah yes ah god agh fuck me agh is that all you can uh do you bastard c'mon uhn fuck me you cocksucker, you ukh Oh god I'm going to unkh come from my ass oh ohhh shit yes fuck me fuck unkkh fuck me yes YES oh god damn shit Ankhkhkh....

What a reaming he was giving her, and watching his cock sinking into her asshole, hearing her actually coming from getting it up the ass, was too much for him. His cock began to pulse, to tighten even further, and he could feel each ridge on his cock getting a massage from her ass muscles. The jism rose like a beaker boiling to overflow, and bubbled out first before pressurizing to a stream that felt like his intestines were being strained through his dick.

He screamed with her, punching his rod into her ass like he was packing a muzzle-loader, and the explosion rocked them both, sent them reeling into a collapse neither realized till they both gradually awoke from the trance state. His pecker was now soft, though still held tight by her ass. He eased it out, and she squeezed the last spunk out as she expelled him.

Then he rolled her over. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dilated, her smile infectious. He leaned down and kissed her deeply. He could still taste a little of his come in her mouth. The kiss was tender. From both sides, an appreciation, a joy. Both felt more loving and more loved than they had for years. Their arms came around each other and the embraced, their tongues dancing a slow gavotte, while their pulses gradually wound down, and their breathing became even. The kiss was sweet.

And then they both smelled the casserole burning in the oven.

The End.