Susan Carter

A helpful wife

CHAPTER ONE

"Tim! No, please don't!" Melanie Cartwright protested.

She struggled for a moment with his hand, pulling it with hesitant force from beneath the top of her thin, low-cut dress. Tim Cartwright resisted somewhat drunkenly, and then let his hand be pushed limply away.

"Melanie, for God's sake!" the young man thickly hissed. "We're married, aren't we? Jesus, you act like we were still going steady."

"Oh, darling, it's not that," she moaned in a soft whisper against him. "It's that we're in a public theater, that's all."

"What's that got to do with it?" he growled in a low voice.

"I mean… I mean, it's not even a drive-in! We can't… we can't make a spectacle of ourselves in front of all the others here. We're not teenagers any more, you know."

"Not by very much," he chuckled wetly against her ear. "I bet you just don't want your new boss to see you necking, right?"

Melanie flushed slightly, feeling her rosy cheeks flare with heat in the darkened movie theater. "No," she protested, "it's not that at all. Mr. Andersson is a married man. He knows all about love." She dropped her head to his shoulder and began to sigh gently, trying to show her husband she wasn't such a prude as she sometimes sounded. "We'll have plenty of time for loving later, when we get home!"

"Think you can stand seeing sexy films like this every night while I'm gone?" her husband, Tim, whispered suggestively.

"You… you know I don't like them, Tim," she replied, stiffening. "Besides, I'll be out in the lobby all the time I'm working. Now hush and watch the movie. You're the one who wanted to see it so badly."

"Yeah," Tim breathed huskily, looking back to the screen with liquor-dulled eyes. "And man, it sure is a hot one, isn't it?"

Melanie Cartwright didn't answer, again feeling a rapid sensation of blood rushing to her face as she blushed with embarrassment. She'd never seen one of these so-called "art" films before, but avoided them by telling Tim that she was not interested in the more lewd and prurient side to love-making. But the curvaceous blonde wife, only twenty years old and married just one month over two years, had been continually urged by her handsome, twenty-two year-old husband to at least try one before she dismissed the whole idea. And her girl friends, those other young wives and mothers who lived in the apartment-house complex with her and Tim, always seemed to be talking in hushed giggles about the candid versions of wild erotica which their husbands were taking them to. In spite of her deeply religious upbringing and her own ingrained sense of what was decent and what was not, she couldn't help admitting that she had been secretly curious about what such films were like, titillated by their come-on newspaper ads.

Now, tonight, there had been no way of avoiding seeing one such movie, even if she had desperately been against the idea. For one thing, she hadn't been able to find the proper words to argue after all the drinking they'd done during dinner. Tim had taken her to a fancy restaurant before coming here, and they had lingered over their tasty food with different wines with every course, not to mention the before and after cocktails. Tim had more to drink than usual, and Melanie could see he was not very sober, but she, too, was feeling the alcohol's effects to a marked degree.

For a second reason, he had insisted that he wanted to go here, and she didn't have the heart to turn him down, as this would be Tim's last night with her for the next four months. Her husband would be away from home and bed for almost the coming third of a year, and of course Melanie had wanted to make this the best possible going-away night she possibly could. The reason her husband was leaving was one of those minor tragedies that can strike young married men "on their way up" who must sacrifice personal pleasure momentarily for a more secure and richer future. There had been many tears and even a few arguments ever since Tim had told his wife of the necessary parting, but they both knew that it would be best in the long run, a temporary parting that would only make their marriage happier later.

Tim Cartwright had left his menial job as warehouseman at McHugh Plumbing and Heating to join a new, progressive and energetic firm of plumbing representatives, Flynn amp; Associates. It was a real chance to make something out of himself, Tim had told Melanie; perhaps the only chance he'd have before he was twenty-five and most of the trainee positions were being filled by younger graduates. But as a new representative of many different plumbing manufacturers, he had to go to New York City and start learning a thousand different details at the parent office of Flynn amp; Associates, and travel all over the country visiting the multitude of factories for further teaching.

If Melanie could have gone with Tim to New York, there would still have been frequent times when they would have been apart. But a warehouseman doesn't make much money, and there hadn't been the savings available to allow her even that much. The sad fact was that there was hardly enough money to buy Tim the new suits he needed and send him to the other side of the nation. Melanie would have to stay in California, in the small suburb of Greenridge, and keep their tiny apartment for when Tim returned to his new sales position in the area. Partially out of a desire to keep her mind occupied and partially to help meet financial ends, Melanie had taken a job.

The new job to which Tim had just referred was the second reason they were at the movies tonight. Melanie had a high school education, having married Tim almost the moment she'd graduated. She didn't have the skills or the diploma necessary for many of the positions that were offered, and in a residential district such as Greenridge, there weren't many openings for the few things she could do, such as typing or filing.

Both Tim and she had felt very lucky that the Bijou Theater in the small downtown shopping area had needed a girl to take tickets and operate the candy and popcorn concession in the lobby. The owner, Amos Andersson, had wanted somebody to replace his wife, Syble, from the chores, and was most pleased that someone as smart and beautiful as Melanie was available. Older women, he'd said to her, were continually getting sick or baby-sitting their grandchildren, and teenagers from school were eager, but often irresponsible. Melanie was, as far as Amos Andersson was concerned, the perfect combination, and he'd been glad to allow her the few extra days – and nights – with her husband until Tim left. But tomorrow evening she would be going to work at the Bijou, and the theater was the leading movie house for erotic, sex-oriented films…

After watching the picture, SINNING STUDENTS, for almost an hour and a half tonight, Melanie was beginning to feel slight twinges of doubt about whether she should have agreed to see it with Tim. Or, for that matter, that she should have taken the job at the Bijou at all, considering the kind of movies they were showing! She had told her husband the truth about working out in the lobby, closed off from the images on the screen by the closed swing-doors – but still and all, just knowing this was the type of films the customers were viewing would be a shameful thought continually torturing her mind. The soft mewling sounds coming from the other women in the audience around her, and the grating noise of heavy deep breathing from their male escorts was telling enough of the effects such eroticism was having. She could see through the dim light the vague shapes of other couples wrapped in tight embraces around the darkened theater.

Her eyes glanced back to the screen just as the climactic moments of SINNING STUDENTS were being unreeled in vivid color. It was the age-old story of seduction behind the stone walls of an exclusive girl's school. There had been the usual scenes of teasing foreplay with different young teenage girls, all of them beautiful in their youthful, firm innocence, as they fought for all they were worth against the perverse temptations that were continually being forced upon them. Melanie had been watching a number of scenes where one after the other of the girls were shown in various stages of undress, with their budding, tautly uplifted little breasts often filling the screen in larger than life detail, or fleeting glimpses of their hair-fringed pubic mounds and lithely rounded buttocks as they nakedly displayed their nubile young bodies.

But now the wide-eyed wife was viewing the most lecherous of the professors as he was thumbing through a book in his small room. At first glance it appeared as though he were reading it very quickly, but as the angle of the camera turned, she could see that he had photographs secreted between its pages. His eyes gleamed lasciviously as he studied them, but the camera did not show them to the avidly awaiting audience.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. He snapped the book shut, looking up as the door opened and a young brunette schoolgirl hesitantly entered. She couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen, Melanie thought with disbelief; where on earth had the film producers ever been able to hire such sweet, innocent virgins as her? The teenaged girl was dressed in the school uniform and carried a set of books in her arms, and the dialogue was to the effect that she wanted the teacher to help her with one of the lessons. She didn't understand it, she said, and the professor, a wicked gleam in his eyes, said he would be more than glad to explain it better. She sat down and shyly opened her book to the page from which he'd been teaching that morning, and the sound track went over the lesson, the professor inching around closer and closer to the seemingly unsuspecting girl. Then the teacher straightened, snapping his thumb, and said he'd forgotten something that would make the lesson easier, and he excused himself and left the room.

The girl sat erect in the chair, looking around the small room nervously, biting her lip as if she felt a certain danger just being there all alone. But after a few moments, curiosity got the better of her fears, and she reached across and took her tutor's book to check a figure in her own studies. The camera showed the gasp of surprise and the shocked expression on her face as she opened the book and saw the pictures hidden inside. Her first reaction was to close the book and slide it back across the table, but then her innocent wonder took over again, and she reopened the book, shuffling the photos with increasing interest.

The pictures were on an angle to the camera and slightly out of focus to give a tantalizing, erotic build-up, but enough was shown so that Melanie could see that they were pornographic pictures of a man and a woman nakedly entwined in lewd sexual intercourse. The camera switched back to the girl's face as a slow change from amazement to wide-eyed excitement seemed to come over her emotions. The stimulating effect the obscene pictures on her immature mind was apparent, for Melanie could see her eyes slowly dilate and the unmistakable smoky haze of passion begin to flicker through them. The violin music began to grow as she breathed harder and panted in a rhythmic excitement, and she writhed with increasing passion on the chair. The camera lowered to the floor and viewed upwards under the table. The student girl pulled her skirt up slightly and inserted her middle finger up under the tight leg band of her flimsy nylon panties, gently stroking the barely hidden crevice of her moistly parting vagina. A few curls of dark pubic hair and occasional glimpses of soft pink flesh could be seen glistening wetly as her slim inner thighs quivered and her firmly rounded little buttocks undulated. She slipped more of her finger deeper into her virginal young pussy and rotated her hand faster and faster with increasing arousal…

Melanie held her breath as she watched the school-girl fingering herself on the screen. She had never in her life seen anything like this, and was grateful for the protective covering of the darkness around her.

It all looked so real and true-to-life that she couldn't believe it was only being acted, and again she found herself wondering where tender-aged girls could be gotten to do such sordid things in front of a camera. Through a lightheaded intoxicating haze of martinis and wine which she'd had during a pre-movie dinner, she could feel her own body begin to tingle in sympathy with the school girl on the screen. She remembered lying in her own bed when she'd been no older than this girl, and touching her private parts with her own fingers to relieve the building force of her flowering womanhood. That had been years ago, but still she blushed slightly from the shame and guilt flicking through her conscience, and she squirmed her own buttocks nervously, feeling the soft edge of the seat brush electrically against the tender swelling of her vagina. She twitched from the unexpected shock the contact brought, her breath quickening involuntarily.

Tim eagerly pulled Melanie close to him again, letting his hand dangle gently over her shoulder. His fingers lightly touched the tip of her breast, and he felt her jump slightly from his fingertips, but he held her tighter, pressing his hand gently against the softness of her throbbing breast. The young husband was growing more aroused by the second, and lewdly exciting images of the things he would do to his luscious wife's soft body ran through his mind. Man, tonight would be the last night for at least three or four months with her – and after watching this hot sex film, he would turn Melanie every way but up, and then maybe that way too. She had never liked different variations because she thought them to be perversions, but after tonight she'd know she had been fucked when he finished with her, whether she liked it or not!

Up on the screen, a spasming look of horror came on the school girl's face just as Tim Cartwright returned his attention to the movie in front of him. The professor had come back into the room unexpectedly and caught her finger fucking herself with the pictures spread out on the table. The man grabbed the young girl roughly and cursed her, while she mewled and pleaded for forgiveness, but he marched her over to his bed, obviously bent on punishing her. He pulled her down over his knees and she kicked out wildly behind her. Then he lifted her little skirt up over the trembling moons of her fear-quaking buttocks and began spanking her through the flimsy white panties with the palm of his hand. The slappings were harsh and authentic sounding as they came through the speaker, and the girl screamed and kicked under his brutal spanking, her sleekly naked thighs shivering piteously before each cruel blow.

While the teacher yelled at her to leave his private things alone, the camera zoomed in on her flailing buttocks, where he was slowly beginning to draw the white nylon panties down over the delicious firmness of her reddened buttocks. When her panties were all the way off and thrown to the floor, the professor pushed the girl from his lap. She knelt in front of him on the floor, tears of pain and humiliation streaming from her eyes as she pleaded for mercy and begged him not report her to the headmaster of the school. The corrupting teacher's face shone with a cruel glint then, and he outlined what she must do for him if she didn't want to be expelled that very moment…

"Take your clothes off, my little peach. Strip and then we'll do some of the lovely things you were looking at."

"No! No!" the sweet angelic voice cried back.

"Yes!" the insidious professor demanded. "Be quick about it!"

Quaking with fear, the teenaged girl rose to her feet and began to slowly remove the clothing from her budding young body. The professor did the same, grinning satanically as his pants dropped to the rug. His big, hardened penis was just out of the range of the camera, but the whole audience including Melanie knew it was no more than an inch past the bottom of the screen. The girl stood naked in front of the older man, her arms crossed futilely over her well-developed, high-tipped breasts. The curly hair covering the mound at the base of her tender white belly was soft and sparse, and the tiny folds of flesh covering the narrow slit of her pink vagina were plainly visible.

The teacher gleefully made her sit down on the edge of the bed and spread her legs wide apart so that he could kneel between them and see up between her parted thighs. He reached forward and placed one thumb on either side of the rounded hair-fringed lips of her pubic mound to splay their tender flesh slowly apart. The camera zoomed in to expose all of the moist pink valley of her tight young pussy, and her gently throbbing clitoris could be seen just above the puckered opening of her little cuntal hole…

Melanie gasped in increasing surprise, unable to believe her eyes and ears. A tightening sensation was gripping the pit of her stomach, and she blinked her eyes that were hazy from the dinner drinks, trying to bring them into proper focus and assure herself she was actually seeing correctly. The horribly filthy movie was against every moral lesson she had ever been taught, and she knew it was terribly wrong to even be watching it! Yet instead of the absolute revulsion she would have sworn she'd have felt, she was experiencing a strange, light-fingering tingling deep up between her own thighs, and tiny licking flames of unwanted arousal burned through her raw nerve ends. Dear God, it was lunacy to be sitting here at all, but she was perversely enjoying it as well!

Her husband had pulled her so close against him now that she could hardly move and during the excitement of watching the young girl strip, he had inserted his hand down into the bodice of her dress again. She could feel small pinpricks of delicious sensations racing through the tips of her naked breast as he rolled the hardening nipple teasingly between his thumb and forefinger. The heat of his breath seared her ear as he turned his head toward her again and locked his lips wetly against her. She tried to twist away, but the pressure of his hand and mouth were too great for her to fight.

"Come on, Melanie," he whispered into her mouth. "Don't start acting prudish again. Nobody can see us, and nobody would care if they did."

She remained rigid for another moment, and then allowed herself to go limp, knowing the futility of resisting his savage strength. The thought crossed her mind that this was the first time he had kissed her in a theater since they'd been married, and she had almost forgotten the forbidden thrill of what it was like. In spite of her guard being up against letting any emotional display happen in public, she could feel tiny butterfly-like sensations flit increasingly through her stomach.

The now familiar voice of the professor came through the speaker, piercing her mind even though she had her eyes closed and her head turned away from the screen. "You want me to play with you, my little dove?" Melanie heard the voice lewdly ask.

"Oh, yes… Oh, please, yes! I want you to, Sir!"

Melanie sucked in her breath, her face flushing. She could hear the sounds of heavy breathing and movement on the bed and then:

"How?" her teacher rasped excitedly.

"With your tongue, Sir! I want you to suck me like the man is doing in the pictures you have."

"By damn, I will! Get up on the bed and spread your legs!"

The older man's voice came through with a guttural passion she had never heard in her own love making with Tim. Her face turned a still brighter crimson as her husband continued to kiss her with hotly pressing lips and mouth, and she heard another long delay in the voices and a more intense movement of the bed. And then the voices returned:

"Ahhhhhhh," a high ecstatic sigh came.

"Suck me, Sir! Suck me harder and deeper; stick your tongue all the way up my pussy!"

Tim Cartwright felt renewed passion surging through his loins as he heard the girl moaning in the throes of abandoned sex on the screen. He could feel his massively erect penis jerking in the tightness of his pants and, as he paused in kissing his wife, he was able to see a small portion of Melanie's soft upper thigh as she squirmed in her seat next to him. God, how he'd like to grab his wife right that instant and throw his prick to her while they listened and watched this wild sex movie! But he knew her well enough to know that any advance like that would freeze her up until she was colder than an igloo outhouse. He'd have to somehow control himself until they got home: but then, by God, he'd fuck her silly!

Tim withdrew his lips from hers and looked back at the screen. "Hot damn, look at that!" he gasped heavily into his young wife's ear, his hand tightening harder on her softly warm breast.

Melanie turned her head slightly and caught the view of the movie just as the young girl wrapped her hands in the older man's thick black head of hair and pulled his face forward with all her strength into the moist pink opening of her loins. Her teacher's tongue was snaking out and swiping across the throbbing flesh of her tender vagina, bringing groans of lewd delight from her tightly clenching lips. He teased the tiny bud of her clitoris for a moment with his lips and then began to run his mouth up and down the full length of the widely spread vaginal slit. Her hips responded with slow hard grinding up against his face, and she writhed and twisted like a belly dancer under the hotly probing tongue. The girl was being turned into a raw quivering mass of desire before the eyes of the movie audience, contorted expressions of sensual joy clear to all upon her passion-twisted face…

At the same time, the camera was able to view the professor's hardened penis as it stuck out from between his naked thighs while he knelt before the abandonedly writhing girl. A ripple of sensation coursed through Melanie in spite of herself as she pondered its giant size. It was much bigger than Tim's, and she clasped her own legs tighter together as she involuntarily wondered what it would be like to have something that big sliding up between her thighs. She glanced guiltily away from it, only to see once again his thick tongue curling wetly up into the swollen pink lips of the teenaged girl's eagerly spread vagina. Melanie gasped at the obscene sight, having heard about men doing this to women but never having thought the sight of such a depraved act could excite her against her will. And yet it was, and she could feel a building moisture up between her tightly pressed thighs as the emotions reflecting on the girl's face in the film transmitted themselves to her own body.

Thoughts of her own nights of love-making fluttered unconsciously into her mind as she watched the lewdly sucking mouth on the screen. She could recall how early in their marriage Tim had trailed his wet lips from her bare breasts and down her naked skin in a similar attempt to go lower and plant moist kisses on the soft flesh and satin hair surrounding her defenseless vagina. She could vividly remember how she had screamed for him to stop and then sobbed that he was acting "evilly" as she had pulled him back up over her. He had always taken her the normal, "right" way after that, but without the fire he had shown before, and she had always wondered why at the time.

Was this the reason? Was it really the kind of animal things she was viewing in the movie now that it took to please a man? Tim had ceased his attempt to force her into such unnatural and debasing acts, but he had become increasingly casual and indifferent in his love making. If he'd been drinking as he'd been tonight, he could be almost cruel and brutal with her, and occasionally he had actually hurt her! She did have to admit that she was prudish in certain respects, and that not once in the two years of her marriage with Tim had she enjoyed sex like the girl in the movie was obviously experiencing. Had she been kidding herself what it should be like when two people make love? The thought raced through her mind against her will – what should it be like? What would it be like? No… no… such abnormal acts were wicked and that was all there was to it…

"See her?" Tim said softly, nuzzling against her cheek. "If you'd let me, I could do the same to you…"

"No!" his young wife protested, squirming away from his still teasing fingers on her naked breast. "No, you know that's not love, just raw sex! It… It's just not right to do!"

She could feel the moisture begin again between her tightly pressed thighs and she involuntarily ground her buttocks harder against the seat to quiet the unwanted, lewd stirrings she felt.

"But look at the girl's face," Tim continued wetly into her ear. "She's letting the old professor screw her, now that she's hot enough to go up in smoke. She's enjoying it! She's enjoying everything the man's been doing to her. Christ, honey, she's not holding herself back."

"Don't talk like that!" she hissed angrily as the word screw excited her strangely against her will. "I'm not frigid. You don't have to resort to those horrible things to make a self-respecting woman like me happy."

But even as she argued with her husband, her eyes locked on the view of the once innocent young girl on the bed with her thighs spread wantonly apart and the older teacher hunched down between them, his enormous penis sunk all the way up between her uplifted legs. The camera angle showed clearly his thick glistening hardness disappearing into the soft, hair-lined folds of her widely stretched vagina. His cock was in almost to its hilt, only a tiny inch of it remaining in sight, wet and throbbing. The professor's buttocks were flexing and hollowing rapidly as he drove himself hard into the nakedly writhing young schoolgirl beneath him. Her slim white legs were wrapped tightly around his muscular body, her trim ankles locked in a lewd death-grip over his perspiring back. His fleshy prick was spearing into her virginal pussy like a steel rod, bringing groans of indescribable joy bubbling from her moist full lips. The girl's face was contorted in the most depraved picture of pure raw lust Melanie had ever seen.

God, how she must feel, the aroused young wife heard herself think. And I've never felt that way, I know it!

Melanie had never seen two people making love before and it looked so strange to her. She wondered if this was the way she and Tim looked, and the thought caused her to squirm slightly and press her thighs together to hold down the erotic fire mounting against her will deep in her loins.

Tim had dropped his hand to massage still more of her aching left breast into further hardness beneath the covering of her dress. She shuddered from his maddening touch, feeling her breath coming in short, labored gasps now. His lips were whispering moist entreaties into her ear, using words she had told him repeatedly were wrong and obscene, but which were now strangely exciting to her. In rising passion, Melanie pressed her thighs together as tight as she could to extinguish the sinful lusts growing mercilessly up between her legs. She wasn't a streetwalker, a common slut without pride or decency in what she did, and Tim had no right treating her like she was one – especially on this last night that they'd be together! She knew she had to leave the Bijou this very instant or she would find herself in a situation with an unsober husband she could not control! How embarrassing, how utterly humiliating that would be, to have something happen in front of her new employer!

"Tim!" she whispered on the verge of hysteria, pulling his hand from inside her dress. "We must go! We must go right now!"

"For Christ's sake," he snarled bitterly, "What's the matter now?"

"I can't take any more of this… this awful movie!"

"You've got to be kidding!"

"I don't care I don't care, please take me home. Please don't make a scene, Tim, not on our last night together," she quavered, tears suddenly filling her eyes.

"And if I don't go?" he sneered drunkenly, anger smoldering in his glaring eyes.

"I'll… I'll go home by myself!"

"Gawd Almighty," Tim swore thickly, but he jerked his wife angrily to her feet, reaching behind him to grab his own coat. "Then let's get the hell out of here and home, so I can have my little going away present." He snickered obscenely as he thought about it. "Yeah… that'll be better than watching a movie."

"Ohhhh, Tim!"

He shoved her through to the aisle, his rage still growing inside him. "Don't 'Oh Tim' me, you wet blanket. I'm telling you now, Melanie, that you'd better be good to me tonight. Damned good, you hear?"

Melanie gave him a cold stare in answer and walked stiffly up to the lobby, Tim trailing behind her. Out in the lobby, the sudden glare of bright lights made her pause for a moment, and then Tim caught her roughly by the arm. "C'mon," he growled. "I'm hotter than a firecracker."

"Stop being so crude, Tim," she snapped waspishly at him. "I ought to say goodnight to the Anderssons. It's only polite."

"Well, make it snappy, unless you want to be raped here in the lobby."

Melanie was shocked and dismayed by the way her husband was acting, afraid that it was because of the liquor and the stimulation of the movie. The very way Tim was behaving was reason enough for the young wife to believe such films are wrong and should be censored, if not banned entirely. Rigidly, she crossed towards the refreshment stand which was against the back wall between the two sets of aisle doors, self-pity and anger boiling through her. Oh God, no telling what Tim would be like in bed considering the mood he was in now! If only…

"Hello, Mrs. Cartwright," a warm, throaty voice said, "Are you leaving?" It was Amos Andersson who was speaking to her.

She blushed, stammering in reply: "Why… why yes, we are. Tim has to get up early in the morning to catch his plane, and…"

Andersson chuckled appreciatively. "I understand. You two want to be alone, with more important things to do than just seeing my old movie."

"Oh no, Mr. Andersson, we enjoyed it very much!"

"I'm glad you did," Andersson smiled, stroking one end of his small, clipped mustache. "But please, call me Amos. After all, we're working together now… Melanie."

"All… All right, Mr. – I mean, Amos." She dimpled prettily at the big man who was her new boss. She guessed him to be about six-two, and around two hundred pounds. His thick brown hair, lovingly rippled into waves, was long over his ears and at the base of his neck. He had a wide, handsome face, with a short nose above a heavy-lipped mouth, a firm chin cut by a deep cleft and thick eyebrows over small, pale brown eyes. To Melanie, the slightly older man was awesomely masculine, so… well, she hadn't been able to put her finger on it, other than he had seemed to her from the first moment they'd met to be overwhelmingly magnetic. In that respect, he reminded her of Tim in a more mature way, of her husband's forceful and pervasive huskiness, and an odd sort of tingling of animal attraction had hit her in the pit of the stomach when she'd been interviewed for the job ten days ago. Even now, standing as they were in the lobby of his theater in a very respectable manner, she found herself studying him with a detached interest, not as a potential sex mate – heaven forbid the idea – but just as a very attractive and stimulating male.

Amos' wife, Syble Andersson, came from behind the candy stand where she'd been counting change and joined Melanie and her husband. She had a throaty, purring voice that the young wife had always associated with torch singers, like Peggy Lee, and she thought the woman to be very attractive in that same sensual way.

"So good of you to come on my last night," Syble cooed in a light-hearted manner. "I can't say I'll miss the job, not after all the years I've spent standing behind there!"

"Well, I'm hoping I can do half the job you've done, Mrs. Andersson," Melanie answered diplomatically. "I'll certainly try."

"And you will, I'm sure you will," Syble laughed encouragingly. She had a rather narrow face, a straight nose with a little flare at the nostrils, a generous red mouth, long black lashes, and neatly plucked eyebrows. Her hair was sleek and black and glossy, gathering fully around her shoulders and down over her ripely rounded breasts. She was wearing a pale blue dress with a white starched collar peeking over the severe neckline. But she could have been wearing a steel diving suit, and it still wouldn't have held back the innate sexuality that exuded like perfume from this provocative woman. Syble was, Melanie thought, the perfect mate for such a virile man as Amos Andersson.

"Melanie!" Tim called out gruffly. "C'mon."

"Oh, I better be going," she said nervously, catching the impatient look in her husband's eyes. "Goodnight, Amos? And…"

"Syble. Do call me Syble."

"And Syble. I'll be here at seven tomorrow night!"

"Be looking forward to it, my dear," Amos said genially and shook her hand.

Melanie hurried back to her husband, biting her lower lip with apprehension and embarrassment. She appreciated the way Amos Andersson had not acted as if anything was amiss, though it must have been clear as crystal that there was; and he had been a gentleman the whole time, rather than acting like a complete idiot as Tim was doing. A deep sense of shame still pervaded her entire being at the way Tim had been touching her so intimately only a few short minutes before, and the way he was fidgeting around now as though he were some stud bull unable to behave like a civilized man. She had no desire to say another word to him, and she just hoped that they would get out of here and home before something worse occurred. At least at home whatever happened would be privately between just them…

Behind them, and out of range of their hearing, Amos and Syble Andersson stood in the deserted lobby, admiring the young couple as they left the theater. Amos turned to his curvaceous wife, a sly little grin forming on his lips. "I," he said lewdly, "am going to fuck that sweet girl."

"Amos, you're out of your mind," Syble chided. "I don't think you can con her into our bed short of raping her. She's too young and naive, and only been married for a couple of years."

"Sure, but did you catch that idiot she has for a husband?" Amos chuckled suavely, patting his wife fondly on one firm buttock. "Melanie's the kind who, when they fall, fall hard. It'll be fun trying anyway, even if we don't succeed."

"We?" Syble asked with a glimmer in her bright eyes.

"Damned right. You, my love, are going to help me not only get that girl, but mow her all the way down until she's ready to be made a star."

"Ahhh, a new actress for our pictures!"

"We've many lovely creatures for our shows, but the ones past twenty are all so common looking." Amos Andersson sighed appreciatively.

"But that little bitch… ahh, she could make us a fortune!"

"And you've got a plan… for us!"

"Uh-huh, but I'm not going to tell you until we get home. Show's about due to end, and anyway, it'll do you good to wait for the details."

"Why, you horrid tease! I think you're making this all up!"

Amos laughed heartily, noting the anticipatory smirk on his lovely wife's face. "Nope, I've got a plan, all right. And my dear… when have you ever known me to fail?"

"Never," she had to admit, smiling. "Not even once…"

CHAPTER TWO

Tim Cartwright drove with the car window rolled all the way down, the cool night breeze ineffectual against the swirling heat of his inebriation. The drinks he'd had only a couple of hours ago were headier than ever in his bloodstream, and were making his already maddened emotions a hazy blur. He glanced savagely at his lovely blonde wife who was sitting far over against the door, and the sight of her demure, righteous expression enraged him all the more. She hadn't talked to him since she'd demanded to leave the movie, and that was just fine by him!

Some hot piece of ass he'd married! Out of bed Melanie demanded all the little things involved with a story-book romance, with her teasing and suggestive remarks and her provocative come-hither looks. But she was all sham as far as he'd been able to determine in two years of bedding her; all sugar-coated icing on a flat, stale cake.

Goddamn Melanie! He loved her very much, and he'd be deliriously happy if only she was a woman, a red-blooded female who wanted him physically. His cock and balls were aching for the loving caress of a sensual wife, but all he'd been able to expect from her was the responsiveness of a pound of calf's liver. He often pictured the ideal situation with Melanie mewling and moaning with pleasure as he made love to her in a hundred different ways, and she in turn writhing and sucking and kissing him with unquenchable lust just like that little teen-age bitch had been doing in the sex movie. He could almost feel the creamy secretions of her nakedly hungry cunt as she whispered his name in pleading supplication, and he groaned as he drove, gripping the wheel tightly, knowing all too well that her pussy was as dry and arid of moist desire as the Sahara Desert in summer.

Goddamn it! This was the last night before he went away to New York City for God only knew how long. He had to have her! He had to and no question about it! He was going to fuck the shit out of his young wife tonight whether she liked it or not, come hell or high water!

Tim drove more recklessly than was usual after he'd been drinking, his lewd and obscene desires firing his liquored brain until he was unable to think of anything except Melanie stretched out naked on their large double bed. Christ I'm drunker than I thought! he told himself, but he didn't care… he didn't care about anything except fucking!

They entered the quiet residential street on which their apartment house was built, the car tires screaming as he suddenly braked in the parking lot beside the red brick building. Still without a word between them, Melanie and Tim, both tight-lipped, took the elevator to their sixth-floor apartment. Melanie stood to one side and tapped her foot with irritation as Tim fumbled with the key to the locked door.

Inside the sparsely furnished living room, Tim drew his wife to him with an abruptness which surprised her. Her wetly parted lips were smothered as he pressed his mouth hotly to her. She felt herself go rigid as the warm quivering eagerness of his tongue bid for entry into her mouth, and then she gently pushed free of him.

"I… I'll make some coffee," she offered in a gasping voice.

"I don't want any damned coffee," he snarled down at her. "I want a drink."

"But…"

"A drink, damn it! Can't I have a drink in my own fucking house?"

Melanie cringed from his yelling voice, turning around so that he couldn't see the tears forming in her eyes again. The evening was ruined. Their last few moments together, and it was ending in bitter and hateful quarreling. She took off her coat slowly, and then almost fearfully, she said timidly, "Are… Are you coming to bed, Tim?"

"Damned right I am, baby," he grinned with drunken lewdness at her. "Soon as I pour myself a drink. You go get yourself all ready for lover-boy. Because he's rarin' to go tonight!"

He watched her slump off in the direction of their bedroom, and then with a disdainful grunt, he stalked to the cabinet where the bourbon was kept. He didn't bother to find a glass, but unscrewed the cap and tilted the glass neck directly to his mouth. The hot liquor burned all the way down to her stomach, making Tim feel slightly nauseous for a moment. He staggered to an easy chair and sagged down in it, lifting the bottle up to take a yet greater swallow. A few seconds later he was rewarded by a lightheadedness that swirled heatedly through his blood, and he raised the bourbon still again to take more of the soul-inflaming alcohol.

His long, hardened penis was bent mercilessly in his pants, and he could tell that he was oozing seminal fluid from its passion-throbbing blunt tip, soaking into a wet stain in his white underpants. Never had he felt so hot and intensely aroused, the combination of the drinking and the lust-arousing SINFUL STUDENTS film boiling in his mind with ever-intensifying desire. The pain in his doubled-up cock was now excruciating to him, and with the desperation of the drunken man he was, Tim reached down and fumbled for the fly of his trousers. The zipper protested, because the sitting position he was in made for awkward maneuvering even for a sober person, but slowly he was able to lower it until his white underpants bulged through the narrow opening.

Tim Cartwright looked down at the protruding bulge. There it is he said drunkenly to himself. There was his hard cock with which he'd fucked his share of girls in school. He was a damned good looking guy, and he didn't mind telling himself so, for enough eager and willing girls had while they'd been rolling in the sack with him. He had a tall, broad-shouldered shape to his lean, muscular body, with a tanned face and a smile that they all said could have been used in a toothpaste commercial. He ran his hands through his rich black hair and stared morosely down at the aching bulge that was enlarging from the open zipper of his pants, and Tim thought to himself that a fat lot his good looks and big cock was doing him now.

Trembling with pent-up frustration, he touched the swelling flesh and felt a tremor race through his loins and buttocks. The narrow band of thin white underwear seemed to widen of its own volition as he ran his fingers along its frontal band, the sensations he was causing himself almost too overwhelming to be withstood. His fingers caressed the stiffened cock, its outline hard against his underwear, and then he pulled the material aside. Like a steel spring unwinding, the fleshy shaft and blood-swollen head of his hotly aroused penis shot free and out into the open air.

Tim stared with fascination down at his own erect cock, seeing the lust-bloated hardness quiver with anticipation. He'd never seen it bigger! His fingers caressed his large, rigid shaft, and the cool air of the living room made it tingle all the more maddeningly.

For Christ's sake, this is stupid! he chastised himself. I haven't done this since I was a Boy Scout! But he continued almost without conscious effort, the foreskin folding back as his hand stroked the long burning length of his cock. Sperm churned in his hotly tormented scrotum, and he could feel the rising of his impending cum building in the base of his penis. He sat in his living room chair like that for a long moment, staring down at his rock-hard cock as the full fist of his hand wrapped around its shaft and pumped up and down with furious speed, his breath becoming ragged and hoarse.

It was only then that the drunken young husband realized that he was too far gone to fight the primeval urges his body was thrusting upon him, and with a violent surge of salacious lust, Tim Cartwright leaped to his feet. He started his desire-wracked body toward the door to his bedroom, his hand once more enclosing over the turgid hard length of his erectly pointing cock. Yes… Toward the bedroom and his wife Melanie… Ready or not, here he came…!

Melanie had gone into the bedroom feeling an overwhelming sense of sadness and despair. She began to fold back the sheets of the double bed, wondering what had gone wrong with the evening and what she might have done to avoid this awful situation. Had she been unfair to make Tim leave the theater when she had? Was she being too demanding of him to treat her with respect? No… if anybody was too demanding, it was Tim. Physically demanding, she thought, and she shuddered at the knowledge of what would probably happen to her in just a few minutes. It seemed to her at times like now that the only reason Tim married her was for her body, and that all he ever had on his mind was sex. He wanted to make love to her almost every night, and then like an animal at times.

Melanie shuddered involuntarily again. The thought of Tim's huge, brutal hardness tearing into her defenselessly tight vagina made her tremble with fright. Didn't he know how to be gentle and patient with a woman? She had been a virgin when she'd married him, and he certainly had been aware of that better than anyone else. She had dated many boys before she'd met Tim, and had engaged in the usual back-seat petting with a few who had appealed to her more than others. She had even on occasion let a couple of them brush their hands over her full ripe breasts, but despite their pleadings she had never let it go any farther. It had aroused her somewhat, she admitted to herself, but she had always overcome this by strict concentration on the moral values her mother had drilled into her.

Her mother was extremely religious and had made Melanie attend church with her every Sunday without fail, when most of her other friends had been running off to play. Her mother had also given her persistent warnings on the evils of "s-e-x" and the innate beastiality of men. Melanie had told Tim frankly about her strict upbringing because she wanted to be a giving and loving mate for him. All she had ever asked in return was for him to be patient with her and understand why she didn't believe in pre-marital intercourse or all the lewdly wicked positions in which some uninhibited persons indulged. Tim had promised he understood and would cherish her wishes…

But he had not, taking advantage of her love and trust in him even before they were married to press his baser instincts. She had never gone "all the way" with him during their courtship, but several times it had been very close, being all she could do to control the both of them in their moments of passion.

Often, in compromise, she had let him reach under her sweater and unfasten her brassiere, and caress her nakedly exposed breasts while they were petting in the back seat of his car. One time they had parked inside the garage of her parent's house where it was very dark and private, and he had massaged her painfully full breasts into a maddening hardness until she had allowed him to slip off her blouse and brassiere. He had suddenly taken one of her nipples into his wetly eager mouth, and the gentle playing of his tongue around the chip-like bud had nearly driven her insane with new sensations. She had hardly noticed when his hand had slipped under her short skirt and had begun to caress her creamy white upper thighs.

"No, Tim, no!" she had gasped, sensing that she might not be able to hold him back this time. But he had kept on stroking her, insinuating his outstretched middle finger under the legband of her thin nylon panties and into the moistly heated slit of her virginal vagina. It had started a tingling sensation that she had never known before, and she squirmed around on the car seat beneath his hands, her heavy breathing fogging up the window beside her.

"Tim, not now, darling, wait for our wedding night…"

He had paid no attention to her and she had heard the metallic sound of his zipper opening. She had tried to pull away with a suddenly gripping panic, but his finger between her thighs had been probing up into her wet vagina, sending electric thrills of rippling pleasure up through her that froze her to the seat. She had not been able to move for the moment as the delightful sensations raced around inside her body, and he had taken this to mean she had surrendered her will to his abuse. He had stretched the elastic legband of her panties farther aside, and suddenly tried to roll over on top of her to insert his fleshy male hardness. At the last possible moment she had clamped her legs tightly together and trapped his fully exposed penis painfully between them.

Tim had struggled like a maniac to pry her thighs apart and get the tip of his rock-hard penis up into the wetly throbbing opening of her vagina. But she had been possessed with the fearful certainty that she must wait for a wedding ring, and had struggled with all her strength against his attempting rape. Just as he had forced the head of his straining cock under the legband of her panties and the throbbing blunt tip was poised between the unwantedly spread lips of her cunt, she had felt it begin to jerk out of control. Tim had gasped and she had felt hot, thick liquid spurt out from the end of his penis and drench her matted pubic hair with his warm white sperm. It had covered the insides of her thighs wetly and had dripped down between her legs to moisten the car seat beneath her squirming buttocks.

Tim had emitted a final groan and had collapsed over her body as she began crying with uncontrollable hysteria. He had tried to comfort her but she had refused him to even touch her, feeling soiled and dirty and humiliated beyond belief. But later, she had calmed down enough to realize that Tim was only a man and controlled by the fevered desires her mother had always warned her about. She had scolded him and made him promise never to do that to her again, reminding him that it was just as much his responsibility as hers not to let himself get carried away before they were married. He had apologized and had never made any serious attempt on her virginity after that.

It had been a wonderful wedding night, and she had felt a complete woman to have been able to give up her virginity to him. Nothing else in the world had ever felt so good as his hotly throbbing penis stretching her tiny hymen and then slipping wetly all the way up inside her belly. The thrills he had given her that night had raced too wildly through her for her to think of her original fears, and she had relaxed her tense inner muscles to give him greater access to her womb. With each delightful stroke he made, she had been able to feel her bridegroom's penis jerking into greater hardness until at last the white hot semen that had once spilt all over her outer skin surged in seemingly unending streams to inundate her inner cuntal walls and fill her belly to its fullest.

Yet strangely, she had not felt that mysterious peak of excitement that she had heard women could enjoy as well as men. "Climaxes," she'd heard whispered from the lips of her girl friends; "orgasms", she had read in the few forbidden sex manuals she'd glimpsed through. Or maybe she had experienced a cumming like her new husband had, only she hadn't known it… Confused and bewildered, Melanie had always been too ashamed and reticent to ever ask about what she might be missing. Still, it had felt good for her, and she had always tried to be agreeable when Tim had wanted her. And then had come his lurid demands for perversions, and his increasing estrangement as though he was tiring of her…

God, how times have changed, Melanie thought bitterly as she smoothed out the bottom sheet and stood up. Tim's actions during that dirty movie tonight were the worst yet. In spite of what everybody else says, maybe her mother had been right all along…

She undressed quickly then, folding her dress and underclothes in a neat pile on top of the clothes hamper. As she waited for Tim to finish drinking and come to bed, she looked at herself critically in the full-length mirror attached to the wall beside the bureau. Melanie Cartwright was a slim woman, about five feet six inches, and her body was beautifully and symmetrically proportioned to her size. Her blonde hair hung long, and when she let it fall down across her shoulders, it partially covered her voluptuously full breasts. She did that now, thinking that she looked very sensual that way, and almost brazen. She swept the hair back up again, studying the creamy white skin of her breasts and the pink aureoles that made large, perfect accents for her small, bud-like nipples. She raised her arms over her head, stretching her globular breasts taut, and she looked like some classic nude sculpture from the Golden Age of Grecian art.

She stood that way for a long moment, letting her eyes roam down across the flat plane of her stomach and the cute indentation of her navel. The curly blonde hair of her sparse pubic triangle was silky and golden, highlighting the pink fullness of her vaginal lips. And she could see the tiny tip of her clitoris peeping shyly out from the softly rounded flesh of her cuntal valley. She pirouetted lightly, examining the dimpled curve of her satiny buttocks and the rippling smooth muscles of her calves. She had long, curvaceous legs which tapered from the firm swell of her thighs down to her neat little ankles and small, dainty feet.

I've got a good body, Melanie thought, I really do! But it hasn't brought me full physical happiness in two years of marriage…

Suddenly the bedroom door burst open, hitting the wall behind it with a resounding crash. Tim stood in the doorway, breathing in every inch of her lovely nakedness. He had seen her naked before, of course, but never like this! Every sensual detail of her unadorned flesh was lucidly clear to him in spite of his drunkenness, from her tiny rising nipples down to the soft curls of her pubic hair that nestled invitingly below her soft white belly. His eyes blazed with the uncontrolled lust which was burning through his loins, and his immense, fully exposed penis pointing and jerking ahead of him as he moved deliberately across to where his young wife stood in dreadful apprehension. He held his massively rigid cock pointing at her with his hand still beating frantically up and down its lust-hardened shaft.

Melanie felt fear clutch at her throat until she thought she could not breathe. Dear God! This was worse than the time before they were married, when he'd nearly raped her in the car with all his clothes on, only his zipper down to expose his genitals! At least then, he hadn't been flaunting his… his member at her like he was now, and playing with himself so wickedly!

"I've got to have you," he breathed raggedly at her. "Right now, right here!" Melanie cowered back, whimpering with fright. He stepped closer and then grabbed his naked wife with his free hand, sweeping her to him despite her protests. She was hauled ruthlessly against the hardness of his lust-burgeoning cock, and she could feel the pounding heat of his rigid penis against her trembling flesh as she stared abjectly up into his desire-contorted face. His eyes were more obscenely glittering than she had ever seen them before, and his mouth was tightly drawn back over his teeth like a wild animal ready to pounce on some unsuspecting prey.

"Tim! My God, Tim, please! You're drunk!"

"Damn straight, I'm drunk, woman!" he snarled down at her thickly. "Drunk from wanting to fuck you!"

Tim's hands explored her warmly naked body with rough callousness, clutching and squeezing her soft, sensitive flesh as his penis throbbed excitedly against her cringing belly. Melanie struggled feebly for one panicky moment, but she couldn't fight his overpowering strength, and she thought desperately that perhaps if she gave in a little it would help return him to sanity. She thrust her moistly parted lips against his mouth and flicked her wet, pink tongue between Tim's teeth. He sucked it hungrily, his own returning kisses burning her like a firebrand.

"Easy, darling, please be gentle with me…" she murmured entreatingly into his ear, but the drunken young husband was beyond hearing her pleas. There was no verbal response from him, just a deep-throated growl of desire rumbling from his throat as he pulled her cruelly toward the open bed. She felt herself fall upon the mattress and roll to one side, and then she dimly felt him crawl up on the bed beside her, hovering momentarily with an evil grin of pure lasciviousness spreading across his alcohol and passion-lined features.

"Now, damnit, I'm going to fuck you!"

"No! Don't! Don't use that word!"

"Fuck, baby! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Tim unbuckled his pants and slipped them down to his knees. Then he sprawled drunkenly on the covers as he tugged at all his clothes, and within seconds he was as naked as she was.

"Please, Tim! Please be gentle with me!" Melanie's voice moaned as he leaned over her nakedly defenseless body. He held her down against the mattress with one hand and ran the other greedily over the lush contours of her young flesh, kneading her ripely succulent breasts with hands he seemingly was unable to control. His head dipped down to the tender budding nipples, and he chewed hungrily at their pink tips until he could feel her resistance slowly giving way and the sweet taste of her skin filling his mouth.

"No, darling, noooooo!" Melanie mewled hopelessly, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Her long blonde hair thrashed from side to side on the coverlet, her face contorted with torment and fear, as she cried out over and over until the sounds became nothing but incoherent mumbles of slurring words.

Ignoring all of his wife's moaning cries, Tim rolled on top of her and caught her naked young body as her long slim legs scissored out in one last desperate attempt to escape his brutal assault. Drunkenly, he held her wildly straining body tighter to the bed, imprisoning her, as the weight of his heavy chest tensed down upon her like a giant boulder. His hips fell heavily down between her full widely-splayed thighs and pinned her jerking buttocks tightly down against the bed. The soft fleece of her curly pubic hair brushed teasingly against his throbbing male hardness, inciting him to incoherent ravings of drunken lust. His knees spread her legs farther apart as he ground his lean muscular pelvis into her squirming, defenseless loins.

"I'm going to fuck you silly, baby," he hissed viciously down at her. "Yeah, I'm going to fuck you just as if you actually wanted it!"

"Ohhhhhhh," Melanie groaned haplessly, knowing she was to be brutally raped… Raped by her own unloving husband!

Tim Cartwright drove his hand down between the fear-trembling hollows of her soft inner thighs in his mad search to find the elastic snugness of her cringing little vaginal hole. He felt the blunt rubbery head of his cock slip moistly between the sensitive pink lips of her cunt until, using his fingers to guide it, he led it directly up against the tight pulsing hole of her pussy. He jammed his blood-rigid shaft forward with a groan, shoving it all the way up inside her soft white belly with one savage lunge of his driving hips.

Melanie felt his heatedly pulsating penis forcing its way along the tender walls of her vagina, pushing her resisting flesh before its skewering hardness like a sword slicing through meat. She winced tearfully from the excruciating pain, knowing full well from previous times that there would be no escape for her, no let-up of the torture until he had emptied his burgeoning testicles inside her and mercilessly filled her womb with his lewd cum.

Tim rammed forward again, hearing maliciously his testicles slap up against her twitching up-tilted buttocks. She ground her hips against the bed in a futile effort to relieve some of the brutal pressure, kicking out her legs vainly in the air on either side of his cruelly impaling body. "Timmmmm!" she screamed wildly. "Oh God, you're hurting me! Agggghhhhhhhh! You're hurting me so much, Timmm!"

The alcohol-crazed husband grinned obscenely as he heard her guttural wail of pain that had come bursting helplessly from deep in her chest. He pumped his rock-hard penis deeper and faster into her warmly yielding flesh, his thick shaft of meaty cock sinking with each demonical stroke all the way into her fear-quivering pussy, the warm wet walls of her cunt wrapping tightly around it.

"That's right, baby!" Tim taunted down at her. "Scream for it!" He flexed again, and asked: "You love it like this, don't you?"

"Uhhhhggggg!" she yelled piteously. "My God! You're killing me! You're killing me!"

"That's not the right answer, Melanie!" Tim snarled, thrusting even more savagely down inside her quivering belly. "You like it, don't you?"

"Ohhhhh, yes! Yes!" the tortured young wife cried out, tears running freely down her red-flushed cheeks. She was afraid now of offending him and making him crueler and more brutal to her than he was already, and she frantically lied: "Yes! I like it! I like it! Ohhhhhhh!"

Tim laughed more harshly in response to her babbling words, stroking more quickly in and out and pounding her tender, stretched vagina harder and faster. He moved his clawing fingers back to grip her supplely fleshed buttocks and pull her tightly grinding cunt closer to his driving loins, his vicious thrusts filling the bedroom with lewd, smacking sounds that blended with Melanie's continuous moans of torment and pain. His own breath became shorter and heavier, blowing out from his tight-lipped mouth in little gasping puffs, and his naked flesh gleamed wetly with beads of salty sweat. He felt himself lose the last remaining vestiges of self-control, and he howled out wildly: "I… I'm cumming, baby! Fuck back! Ohhh, fuck back!"

But even as he blurted out his climax, the first powerful streams of his hot white semen began to erupt from the suddenly expanding head of his throbbing cock, searing deep up inside the fleshy well of his wife's tightly pulsating cunt. His cum spewed forth with the rolling force of a tidal wave, burning Melanie's inner belly with liquid fire, drowning every fractional inch of her raw, sore little pussy until the hot semen spewed out around her painfully swollen vaginal lips. Melanie could feel the trickling sensation of his warm, wet sperm flowing down between her hair-fringed cuntal crevice and puddle on the clean white sheets beneath her wildly trembling buttocks.

And then her husband collapsed, his once-hard cock deflating rapidly with his momentary satiation. Tim fell exhausted across his nakedly cringing wife, one arm splayed wide across the bed and his legs like rubber limbs nestled between her involuntarily open thighs. Melanie stared up at the spent muscular body of the man above her, and in the wake of his spent-out passions, shame and revulsion filled her mind, tears falling like rain from her red-rimmed eyes.

"Why?" she moaned softly to him. "Why, Tim… Why do you treat me like this?"

"You'd never understand," he breathed huskily against one pulsing breast. "You'll never understand about a man's feelings. I'm no robot that can take being married to a beautiful woman like you and having to beg for a decent piece of ass."

"Don't… Don't talk like that to me!" Melanie hissed. "You wouldn't say or do such things if you loved me!"

"I love you plenty, baby," Tim responded, feeling anger once again building in his stomach.

"Only I married a statue, not a woman!"

"You… You're nothing but an animal! A sex maniac!"

"An animal?" He raised up over her, his face contorting with indignation. "A sex maniac?" He felt his limp penis begin to rejuvenate with new-found life, hardening out into as strong an erection as ever. He heard his fearful wife stifle a cry as she felt him push his rehardened cock along her semen-matted pubic hair and down into the moist slit of her lubricated cunt. "A sex maniac, am I!" he growled thickly. "Well, I'll show you just what a sex maniac – an animal sex maniac – can do to a frigid old prune like you!"

Tim never even gave her a chance to adjust to his sudden re-entry deep up into her womb, beginning to fuck immediately in and out of her like a dog gone wild. His only thought was to flood more hot cum deep up inside her where it belonged, and he vented his raging, drunken lust time after time, spewing her belly again and again with the thick, white liquid of his sexual frustrations…

***

Meanwhile, in a sprawling ranch house high up on the wooded hills outside of Greenridge, Syble Andersson switched off the light in her maple furnished living room and walked into the lavishly decorated bedroom, where her husband, Amos, was waiting for her.

She slipped off her shoes and did a small pirouette in the center of the room before she padded bare foot to the huge king-sized bed. There, she smiled seductively at Amos while she slowly undid the buttons along the front of her light blue dress.

Amos' breath sucked in slightly from the excitement of her provocative strip. Damn, he thought, there's just no woman like her!

Undulating her lithe, firm body, she slid the dress down along her slender shape until it lay on the carpet at her graceful feet. Her eyes were heavily ridded and smoky as she watched her husband's face while she tantalizingly reached behind her and unhooked her brassiere. She pulled the thin cloth cups away from her firm, full breasts, making sure that the already aroused berry-sized nipples were the last to meet Amos' hungry eyes. She dropped the brassiere on top of the dress and then slipped her fingers inside the waist-band of her bikini panties and slowly began to work them down over her long, tapering legs until she was standing before him entirely naked.

"You like me, lover?" she purred throatily at him.

"Christ! You're a damned whore when you get near a bed!" Amos gasped appreciatively. "But hell, I wouldn't want it any other way, my dear."

His eyes roamed hotly down over her well-tanned body, savoring the full swell of her rounded breasts and the fleecy, dark curls of her pubic hair which framed the moist, pink folds of her vagina. She was something else, all right, and in the six years they'd been married, he had never had such an insatiable woman who could please him more. None had ever surpassed Syble in any way, and that was quite a compliment for Amos Andersson to give, considering the number of women he'd had in those six years with her.

Syble reveled in his openly lustful gaze for a long moment and then lay down on the satin spread of the huge bed. She scissored her legs invitingly wide in a wanton pose, exposing to his eyes all the moist pink crevice of her hair-fringed cunt. She rotated her hips up and then lowering them in a measured, sexually intoxicating manner. "Aren't you going to get naked for me, lover?" she cooed lewdly.

"You better believe it!" Amos breathed huskily. He quickly shed himself of his trousers and shirt, letting his clothes fall where they would in a disorganized heap on the thick carpet. He stood at the edge of the bed and looked down at her voluptuous nakedness, his long, thick penis standing out rigidly beneath the taut muscles of his well-developed abdomen.

"Open wide, my dear… I'm coming in fast!" he grinned, and leaped on the bed beside her.

"Not so fast!" Syble giggled mockingly, rolling out of the way. "You were going to fire me up with the plan you've got for little Melanie Cartwright, remember?"

"Ah, my dear, but you're torturing me," Amos pleaded good-naturedly. He knew this was a game with her and one that they often played. He knew she was more than ready, right now, but that she liked to be coaxed a little before the action began. "I'll tell you afterwards. I promise."

"No, Sir," she said, squirming her legs together. "No talkie, no fuckie." And then in a seductive coyness, she reached over and placed one hand around the pulsating thickness of his upstanding cock. "You tell me all about it. I'll just sort of… amuse myself while you are."

"Well," Amos said, grinding his teeth together as shivers raced up and down his spine, "we'll use the old One-Two-Three play on her. I think that'll work the best."

"One-Two-Three?" his naked wife asked as she moved closer to him across the bed. Her fingernails scratched lightly over his long hard cock which was reaching yearningly toward the ceiling, and Amos groaned and gritted his teeth at her teasing ministrations of his testicles and penis. She raised up on her knees and hovered on all fours with her face poised just above his squirming loins until he could feel the hot air from her breath, and then she dipped lower, planting a kiss on the blunt tip of his penis.

"Go on, lover," she sighed softly. "What's One-Two-Three?"

Again, all that Amos could do was groan and thrust his loins upwards involuntarily as the warm moistness of her soft lips closed over the throbbing, sensitive head of his penis.

"One… ohhhhh, One will be just me. I'll… oh God, Syble! I'll… I'll get her up here all alone and seduce her for the first time, and then… Ohhhhhh!" He lifted his head slightly to watch her contorting face, and then reached down to tangle his hands tightly in her hair to guide the rhythm of her bobbing head.

Watching and helping her made the wild sensations that much more exciting to him, and he lustfully gazed at the thickness of his saliva-gleaming hardness slide up and down between her wetly ovalled lips.

"GO-wan, go-wan," she mumbled around his plunging cock, increasing the swirling of her tongue around the lust-swollen head of his thick, rigid cock. "Go on… what's Two?"

"Two… Two is when you… Ohhhh, and then I…" Amos shivered, unable to think coherently as his wife became caught up with her delicious task and concentrated on taking all of his heatedly throbbing hardness deep inside her hungry wet mouth. "Oh, to hell with it," he finally managed to gasp. "Just suck me off. I'll tell you… tell you later, my dear!"

He watched hypnotically as the soft flesh of her lips clung to the rubbery skin of his hardened shaft on every outstroke she made with her mouth, and then enclosed inward as she sunk the full length of him all the way to the back of her throat. Her ripely dangling breasts danced below her pumping torso, their hard red nipples brushing tantalizingly across the sensitive flesh of his belly, adding to the lust-inciting scene.

"Suck, my dear… suck!" he hissed, dropping his head back heavily on the mattress and pretending for a moment the woman who was sucking his cock so well was the innocent blonde girl he had hired for the theater. By God, he'd shove his prick all the way down to her stomach when he finally got into Melanie. He'd pump his hot cum all the way down her throat and into that white little belly of hers until she burst!

"Ohhhhhhh, suck! Suck, Syble, suck!" he grunted to his wife as she slaved below, her body beginning to gleam from the tiny droplets of perspiration forming over her skin. He felt the pressure growing in his testicles, and knew it wouldn't be long now before he would cum inside her warm, wet mouth. He shoved his loins hard up against her face in his quest for the final climax that was building… building deep inside his painfully aching cock. He gasped and his lips bared back over his teeth as though he were being tortured by fire, and then…

His big, hard penis began a sudden wild jerking that flooded his wife's wildly sucking mouth without warning in a torrent of thick white sperm. Her cheeks bloated outwards with each bullet-like spurt as she tried to keep from choking by swallowing as fast as she could, mewling and crooning all the while around his thrusting loins.

With one last savage groan, Amos Andersson emptied the last of his semen into her lips, but his wife went on nibbling voraciously, sucking every tiny droplet from the head of his ejaculating gland. Gradually, his satiated penis deflated in her mouth, and Amos threw his arms out to the side in exhaustion, a great sigh of delight escaping from his lips. Syble lay for awhile with her head on his inner thigh, still nibbling gently at the now limp and useless penis in front of her. Then she crawled up over his naked belly, kissed him hard on the lips, and dug her tongue into his mouth.

A moment later, she took her mouth away. "What about number Two, lover?" she teased softly, smiling down at him with a slight sparkle of triumph in her eyes. "What about me and you and number Two?"

Amos chuckled contentedly and stretched out with satisfaction before he answered his wife. "Simple, my love. I know you've had your eye on that tight little Melanie for as long as I have. Well, what better way of breaking her into our kind of movies than to show what all sorts of loving can be like – including your own special brand! No reason why we can't both enjoy her hot young body, is there."

"So Part Two is when the two of us have her at the same time."

"Exactly, and with my little snap-shot camera along for fun-time photos. That should take the stuffing out of her for good!"

Syble smiled erotically down at her husband, pleased at the obscene idea he was proposing. She preferred the hot, hairy bodies of men and their large, pleasure-giving cocks, but every now and then she had a lusting for the satiny feel of another woman's soft curves under her arms and lips. And lovely blonde Melanie Cartwright's tender young body had been as arousing to her as it had been to her husband. Yes, it sounded delectable, and she knew how Amos loved to watch her making lesbian love with another woman just before he joined in to become the third partner of a depraved seance a trois…

"And number Three, lover," she asked in a passionate voice unmistakably excited by his obscene plot. "Quick, what is it?"

"Well, One will be with one – me – and Two will be with two, right? But Three… ahh, that might be with more than just three! We'll get as many of the boys together as we can, and then let things happen as they happen, and – the best part will be…"

"Yes?" Syble asked breathlessly.

"The best part will be that we'll let our color movie cameras roll the whole time. We'll do it in the studio out back, and presto! We'll have our next full-length feature!"

"My, you are clever," his naked wife teased. "We'll blackmail her into cooperating with the photos of us with her. When are you going to start in on precious Melanie?"

Amos thought for a moment, then replied: "I'll have to judge that as it happens. It depends on how soon I can get her to trust me. Then a little of that marijuana on a balmy, romantic night up here…"

"Wonderful!" Syble chimed in gleefully. "As long as I can watch!"

The lascivious sex film producer began to laugh with lewd delight, and before she knew it, Syble was joining in with him. If her husband's cruel seduction worked, and Syble was sure it would, she would soon be face-deep in the lovely blonde softness of that young wife's velvet pubic hair. Syble could feel her mounting desire just at the expectancy, her already moistening vagina flowering still more, and her high, round breasts hardening tautly with tingles of anticipatory passion. She reached her hand down and felt her lascivious husband beginning to stir with renewed desire, his large, thick cock hardening again with rising excitement. She grinned, feeling the wetness seeping between her own throbbing thighs, and knew that it was going to be a long, delicious night with Amos…

Followed by many even longer, more delicious nights with innocent, unsuspecting Melanie Cartwright. After all, Syble silently smiled to herself, doesn't every woman want to become a movie star?

CHAPTER THREE

One month to the day after Tim Cartwright had flown to New York City, his wife stood in the ladies room of the Dew Drop Inn, primping her hair before a large oval mirror over the wash basins. She was a little inebriated, although far from being drunk, and a crystal stem-glass filled with a Brandy Alexander stood beside her elbow on the ceramic ledge of one sink.

Lord! she muttered under her breath as she reached for the glass, she had eaten nothing since a quick lunch, and here it was after midnight! The soothing warmth of the Alexander – her third since she'd arrived at the Dew Drop Inn – was causing a slight tingling sensation to ripple through her blood. She raised the glass to her lips and finished the drink in one long sip. It tasted good; almost too good, she warned herself, and then she giggled at the idea of being in danger. What danger could she be in here, surrounded by all the richest people of Greenridge and a guest of Mr. and Mrs. Andersson? None, of course. The Dew Drop Inn was where only the most prominent and civilized of the local residents ate and drank and danced. Certainly nothing wrong could happen to her, she was certain of that. Why, she was as safe as if she was in her own home!

Home… the one word made her smile bitterly at her reflection. Home and Tim were where the last real danger had been. The thought of her long-gone husband made her remember vividly the last night they'd been together, and despite her promise not to dwell on the awful event, the liquor eased her defenses enough so that once more she reflected upon his savage attack. How could Tim have been so cruel to her, she thought. Why had he been such a raging animal.

She glanced around the ladies room and saw that she was still alone, and in a moment of recklessness she ran her hands over the sweater-enclosed tips of her round firm breasts. They had been so sore and swollen, and her nipples so raw, that she hadn't been able to wear the softest brassiere without pain for a week. Her shoulders trembled as she thought back to the horrible rape of her body by her husband and the way he had used her as a tool solely for his own gratification without even the slightest consideration for her wants or needs. He had used her like a slave – his own wife – and the memory sickened her even after all the days which had passed since then. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she recalled his last parting words just before he'd angrily stormed out the door with his suitcase. She could still hear his voice ringing in her ears as he'd yelled at her: "I don't think you could make any man happy. Maybe when I'm in New York I'll go out and get myself some slut off the street who'll give me the loving I need!"

Dear God, would he? Has he? His letters had been so infrequent and vague, his answers to her own almost daily letters sometimes ignoring the most important parts. This was deeply distressing to Melanie, and she sometimes had difficulty in sleeping at night, wondering if Tim still cared for her and was being faithful to their marriage.

She looked again down her slim body, provocatively dressed as it was in the short mini-skirt and thin pullover which Mr. Andersson had said was her theater uniform. The rounded peaks of her breasts stood out defiantly, and she could almost see the taut curve of her buttocks where they flowed gracefully into her firm legs, the hem-line of her skirt being so daringly high. She was proud of her youthful, curvaceous body, and yet it was the reason for all her troubles. If she could have been a Plain-Jane, she would probably have been settled down with children and happily married to some average fellow. She would never have attracted such a popular boy as Tim, but then she would never have been cursed with being wanted just for her striking beauty.

The hazy effect the brandy was producing seemed to simplify things into an either-or kind of situation in her mind. She turned around and started for the door of the restroom, and as she stepped out into the dim warmth of the Dew Drop Inn, she fleetingly wondered if there couldn't be a middle ground somewhere in between where she could find true happiness…

Melanie threaded her way unsteadily through the ring of small, intimate tables which surrounded a polished dance floor. Over in one corner was her table, the one she was sharing with Amos and Syble Andersson. This was the first time that she had been with them socially, and though she had been reluctant at first, she was now glad that she had accepted their invitation and pleased that they had asked her to join them.

Both the Anderssons, especially Amos, were so understanding and nice to talk to, and Melanie couldn't help feeling that her new employer had a real interest in her welfare. When she had gone to work that evening, Amos had invited her to a party at his house, which, he said, was being held after the theater closed for the night. She had made excuses at first, declining the invitation because she had never liked to drink much and would have preferred a quiet time at home alone. But Amos had persisted in his genial and persuasive way, saying that he was meeting Syble for a cocktail after work, and the least Melanie could do was have one with them. She realized then that his invitation was really a good-natured attempt to get her out of the shell of self-pity into which she had withdrawn. For this, the lonely young wife was grateful to him, and had then accepted for both the cocktail and the party, suddenly wanting a few gay hours to help take her mind off of Tim's absence and seeming neglect.

At first she had been very nervous in the Dew Drop Inn, feeling improperly dressed in her scanty skirt and sweater, but there'd been no chance to rush home and change, and Amos had laughingly told her that it was too dark for anybody to be that inquisitive anyway. She had also felt unsettled at just being out like this, alone and without her husband, even though Amos and Syble were only good friends. But, after a drink had calmed her nerves a little, she had mused that if Tim didn't think enough of her to return her daily reminders of love, then perhaps she deserved an innocent diversion like this.

"Well," Amos Andersson said expansively as she approached, "I thought for a minute you'd gotten lost. I was about to send a Saint Bernard out looking for you with a cask of Brandy Alexanders. Female Saint Bernard, of course."

"No, no," Melanie giggled, sitting down. "You know how long it takes women to freshen up."

"Ah, how well I do," the handsome man sighed with exaggeration, and then winked broadly at his wife. "But you're back, my dear, and just in time for another round of drinks."

"But really, I don't think…"

"Nonsense!" Amos boomed, signaling for a waiter. "Syble has to leave in a few moments to drive some of the guests to our house, so we'll just have time for one more quick one. Waiter, bring us two Scotch-and-waters and one Brandy Alexander."

"You like the Alexanders, Melanie?" Syble asked.

"Oh yes, very much. I… don't like the taste of liquor very much, but these are very smooth and refreshing. I should have discovered them before. Thank you for suggesting them, Mrs. Andersson."

"Do call me Syble," the older woman purred.

"That's for sure," Amos chimed in, a slight red flush of alcohol covering his cheeks. "We're out for a good time tonight. Let's eat, drink, and be merry as the saying goes, because we're all good friends together. Melanie, Syble and Amos. One-Two-Three. Yes, siree."

The new round of drinks appeared, and after she had sipped almost half of her brandy, Melanie noticed that the lack of food was finally making a difference. She was really beginning to feel the liquor, but in a most pleasant manner as she relaxed and some of her mental caution disappeared. She soon found herself having a very animated conversation with both the Anderssons. Amos was witty and could converse artfully on a dozen different subjects, and even his slightly naughty risque jokes didn't offend her, but set her laughing delightfully. He was a very nice, very handsome, very urbane man whom she was finding herself liking more and more. A rapport with Syble also developed easily, and they were soon discussing the latest fashions and what it would be like to take a round-the-world cruise.

Melanie was enjoying herself more with every passing minute, feeling giddy and light-headed and almost carefree for the first time since Tim had departed. She was extremely happy that she'd agreed to go along tonight, and was looking forward to the rest of the night up at the Andersson house.

"Why don't you ask Melanie to dance, Amos?" Syble suggested as the conversation hit a momentary lull. "I have to leave in just a moment and want to finish my drink, but you shouldn't let such good music go to waste."

"An excellent suggestion," her husband agreed with a smile, and rose from his chair to offer Melanie his arm. "Shall we, my dear?"

"Well…" She hesitated, but then thought if Syble had suggested it, it must be all right. "I'd love to, Amos."

He led her out to the dance floor where the small combo was playing one of the quiet old favorites. She was taken by surprise when he curled her warmly in his arms, pushing the sharp, full tips of her breasts deeply into his chest. She wasn't sure how to react at first, and stiffened automatically as he hugged her close.

"Don't be afraid, my dear," her boss whispered warmly into her ear. "I'm not planning to bite you."

Melanie's face flushed in the dimness of the dance floor as she felt him push forward harder and spread her legs slightly so that the mound of her loins were forced against the top of his thigh. The soft silkiness of her dress seemed to hide nothing from her senses and she could feel the resilient flesh of her right thigh brushing tightly between the older man's legs as they moved slowly in time to the music. Inadvertently, she made contact with the softness of his trousered penis, and with a start, she felt a slight stirring of his manhood beneath his pants.

"We… we shouldn't be dancing like this, Amos. It… It doesn't look too good to be this close, and your wife might object."

"Oh, she won't care," Andersson said in an offhand way. "She doesn't care what I do."

"B-But you're a married man," she stammered in a whisper. "And… and I'm married, too."

"Yes, my dear," Andersson replied with oily smoothness. "That always makes it more exciting, don't you think?"

Melanie suddenly lost her tongue, surprised as she was by his strange-sounding words to her. Before she could think of a proper answer, the music stopped and the combo leader announced it was time for intermission.

"Your husband is a very good dancer," Melanie managed to say, trying to cover the blushing she was feeling in her cheeks.

"Syble is too," Andersson said, smiling broadly. "Used to be the best in Vegas, and not too many years ago, either."

"Don't listen to him," Syble said to Melanie. "When a man is as good a leader as he is, I could have two club feet and still dance well." She tipped the glass of Scotch to her lips and drained it in two swift swallows, then collected her purse and stood up. "Well, I must be off."

"Oh," Melanie said, "must you?"

"If you want a party tonight, I do. I'm not sure when I'll get back, so you go ahead and have another drink, and I'll see you all at the house later on."

"Goodbye, dear," Amos said, and kissed his wife lightly on the cheek. He knew there was no turning back for the young wife sitting next to him now. With Syble leaving, the stage was set for his seduction, just as they'd been planning for the last thirty days. Yes, he was going to enjoy playing husband this evening with Melanie, now that his own wife had made her excuses and left. A slight twinge of anticipation rippled between his thighs as he pictured little Melanie nakedly groveling before him.

"Well," he said warmly, turning his attention to the lovely young innocent sitting next to him, "Here's to us, Melanie. Here's to us and our getting to know each other better before the night's over."

Melanie tipped her glass to his and took a large, deep drink of her Brandy Alexander, her eyes sparkling at her handsome boss over the rim of her cocktail.

Another round of drinks was brought, and the two of them continued to sit in the Dew Drop Inn, talking for almost half an hour. For some reason Melanie couldn't explain, she was beginning to feel uneasy about being alone with Amos Andersson. She already felt wicked and worldly for being out with another man – even though it was not a date – but it was something else bothering her slightly which she couldn't quite put her finger on. She knew that it was perfectly all right in this day and age for her to be in the company of a nice man like him, as it might not have been in her mother's day. She knew nothing would happen, just as she'd told herself in the ladies room, and Amos Andersson had been the very soul of gentlemanly discretion. Yet still there was a pervading air of something wrong, something deliciously wrong as though she were skirting some forbidden fate. She tried to recall what might have caused it, but she could find nothing on which to base her small twinge of apprehension. As she set her glass down, she decided to relax and stop being such an old wet blanket, and that the tingling sensations in the depth of her belly were only the result of one too many Brandy Alexanders on an empty stomach.

"Well, my dear," Amos Andersson eventually said, "shall we drink up and be on the way to my house?"

"Yes," she replied gratefully. "Yes, let's. Maybe your wife will be there with the guests by now."

"Perhaps," Andersson said suavely, but inside his head he was thinking: not a chance, little one. Syble won't be where you can see her, and there won't be any guests around to save you now…!

***

The ride to the Andersson home was beautiful, Melanie thought as she sat beside Amos in his large convertible. The road wound through the lovely wooded hills in back of Greenridge, and she could see out of the windows the flat-lands below with their myriad of twinkling city lights shining like a thousand fireflies. She was impressed by the rolling, well-landscaped grounds around his spacious house when they arrived. But it was quiet, and the house was dark, with no cars parked in the large driveway, and Melanie realized that her employer's lovely wife had not yet returned from picking up the other guests. Amos noticed this as well, and as he drew up the car in front of the double-doored garage, he said jovially, "Well, my dear, we're on our own for a while longer. Come on in, and I'll get things ready for the party, hmmm?"

He shut off the powerful engine, and was hardly out of his side of the car before he was opening the door for her. He offered his hand, and Melanie had a fleeting urge to refuse the proffered assistance, but then she took it and allowed the older man to help her out. They walked up the driveway to a crushed oyster-shell path which led around an outcropping of moss-covered rock. She could hear a soft trickling of water as a stream fell pleasantly over the rocks and flowed into a small Oriental pool. The path had a wooden bridge over the water, and then came to the front porch, where a massive wood door was recessed in green tiled framework.

Amos opened the front door, and Melanie followed him into the living room, where he switched on the overhead lights. The lamps were soft and warm, easing Melanie's small sense of apprehension, and she gazed around in wonder at the size and luxury of the room. All of the furniture except for a long white English lounge were of the finest Early American maple. One whole wall was glass, with sliding panels so that a person could step out onto the flagstone patio beyond. A large oil painting of the modernistic school hung prominently near a white porcelain fireplace.

"Sit down, my dear, and make yourself comfortable," Andersson said as he crossed the room to a maple console. "Slip out of your shoes, why don't you? I'm sure your feet must be tired after standing on them all evening."

"Thank you." Melanie answered, and she did as he suggested, removing her flats and then sitting down on the couch. She drew her bare legs up under her on the cushion, and primly tried to pull her short mini-skirt down as far as it would go.

Andersson leafed through a record album and said over his shoulder: "Would you like a little music while we're waiting?"

"That would be nice," she replied, dimpling. "Something soft and soothing, if you have it."

"I most certainly do, my dear." In a moment, violins and muted horns drifted across the room like a cloud of relaxing warmth. "Percy Faith, I hope you like him?"

"Oh yes, very much." She tucked her legs further beneath her as Amos Andersson came over and sat down on the couch. She was pleased to see that he didn't try to sit next to her, but actually sat a little further away than was socially necessary. She had been foolish, she thought to herself. Amos was a handsome, appealing man with a certain allure which fascinated her, and that was the only reason for her slight uneasiness. Herself! And certainly she wasn't going to do anything wrong!

"It is nice, my dear, it is indeed." Andersson closed his eyes and tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch as though the only thing in the room were the strains of the music. For all his aching desire to thrust his rapidly hardening cock up into the narrow slit of her tight little cunt, he knew that to suddenly attack her would be the worst plan he could follow. She would have been pawed half to death by school-boy dates and more than likely by that oaf of a husband of hers, and he figured correctly that before any physical conquest of her tender young flesh, he would have to lessen her mental barriers with a sophisticated approach. And he had just the thing to do it with, too…

He picked up a scrolled silver cigarette case from the table beside him and opened its hinged lid, selecting a thin brown cigarette from its contents. He held out the case.

"Have a cigarette, my dear?"

"No, thank you. I have my own in my purse."

"I noticed that you are just about out. Please try one of mine and see how you like them. They're as mild tasting as your filter-tips, only with more flavor."

"Really? What kind are they?"

"Mexican, my dear," Andersson said, and then to reassure her, he added: "The soil down there makes the tobacco look different."

"Well, I…"

He urged the case closer to her hesitating fingers. "Just take a few puffs slowly and see, my dear. Go ahead. If you don't like it, put it out, and I'll mix you a drink."

"All… All right," she answered falteringly, and took a cigarette, bending her head so that Amos could light it for her.

"Slowly, slowly," Andersson instructed her. "That's the way they taste better." Melanie watched him as he took a drag and inhaled very gently. She followed his example, and found a strange but not unpleasant taste. She inhaled deeper on the next puff and held it down a few seconds. After three or four inhalations, she could hardly feel it go down her throat at all, it was so smooth. She continued to smoke, holding the air down for as long as she could each time…

"Do you feel anything?" Andersson asked blandly as she neared the end of her first cigarette.

"Why yes, I do. I feel… feel very nice," Melanie said in a voice that didn't seem to be her own. She glanced at the man sitting beside her, and he suddenly looked to be miles away. "What… What kind of cigarette did you say this was, Amos?"

He answered with a soft chuckle. "Marijuana."

"Marijuana!" She had heard about the drug only fleetingly, and then mostly to do with its being smoked at wild parties. "Will… Will this make me do things I don't… I don't want to?"

"No, of course not, my dear," Andersson scoffed. "You smoke it because it doesn't make you dull and sleepy like alcohol can. It leaves you mellow and feeling smooth, that's all. Isn't that how you feel now?"

"Yes, Amos, yes it does…"

Andersson smiled back at her, passing her another thin brown cigarette to replace the one she'd smoked. Without thinking, Melanie pressed it to her lips and pulled deeply, feeling this one heightening the pleasant sensation the first had caused. She felt strangely and euphorically bodyless and liked it, and the longer she held the curling smoke in her lungs, the softer her world became. She noticed the lights of the room becoming fuzzy, but the thin, brown cigarettes had dulled any fears she had about what she was doing… or should be doing. She was beginning not to mind anything now with the delicious warmth of the marijuana filtering through her blood and mixing headily with the alcohol she had already consumed. She could feel her flesh tingling all over deep inside… deep down where she had never felt anything before in her life…

The corrupting movie-maker caught the almost imperceptible relaxing of Melanie Cartwright's natural defenses, and inwardly gloated with obscene delight. He continued to talk with her as he watched her smoke the strong marijuana, his tones as warm and calm as the music and the cigarettes. He was experienced in the sensing of the most subtle of moods, knowing perfectly when to retreat or advance, and he moved inexorably from innocuous subjects at first to other, more intimate discussions. He was well aware that even the mention of sexual things would produce a passionate response in the drugged soul of this innocent young woman and cause a sensual tingle which would fill her slender, firm body until she would not be able to resist it… Or him…

"How are you feeling now, my dear?" he asked, handing her a third marijuana cigarette.

"I feel so wonderful, Amos. I wish I never had to go home."

"It must be miserable, there all alone without a man."

"Even with Tim, it's…" Melanie caught herself just before she blurted out all her innermost troubles. She put the back of one slim hand to her mouth in a gesture of silence.

Andersson moved closer, sliding himself across the cushions of the couch until he was almost touching her voluptuous young body. "What is it, my dear?" he asked in a soothing voice. "Tell me, what is the problem. Maybe I can help you."

Melanie shook her head, taking another deep puff of her cigarette in an effort to still her beating heart. "N-No," she managed to whisper. "I… I can't tell."

"You should confide in somebody, Melanie. I can see that you're very upset about Tim for some reason, and it's no good to keep it bottled up inside you."

"M-Maybe not, but I can't." She swallowed thickly, her mind dreamy from the effects of the marijuana and brandy. "It… It has to do with sex, you see."

"Everybody has sex lives, my dear. In this day and age of sexual freedom, sex is talked and shown everywhere you go. Look at the advertisements, the books, the movies I show at my theater. You shouldn't be afraid to talk about sex with me…"

Melanie was dimly aware of Amos Andersson touching her shoulder with his hand and draw her closer to him. His arm feels good, she thought to herself, and so comforting… She pulled again on the cigarette in her lips. The musky odor of Amos' cologne filled her nostrils, stimulating her more, and she allowed herself to be pressed close against the firm supporting chest of her employer. She lowered her head against his muscular leanness and thought wretchedly of her marriage to Tim and how he hadn't held her in such a warm embrace for an awfully long time.

Amos felt the soft, resilient flesh of the unsuspecting young wife press tightly to his own body, and her firmly ripened breasts pulsing against his chest. He let the soft strands of her honey-colored hair brush against his nostrils as he whispered to her: "Maybe I can help, Melanie… Please let me help you…"

"No," she moaned against him. "No, nothing can make it right."

"Shhh, you're getting too upset, my dear…"

"Oh, Amos, I'm miserable!" she heard herself mewl involuntarily. "I'm so terribly miserable!"

"Then tell me about it, my dear. You'll feel better…"

Then, haltingly, she found herself unable to stop from pouring out her heart to him. Even though she knew she should be more discrete about her marital secrets, she was gripped by an overwhelming urge to confess to this strong handsome man who was holding her as her father had after a nightmare. Perhaps it was his soft, reassuring voice, or the influences of the brandy and the cigarettes, but whatever was urging her on, it was uncontrollable, and she unburdened her misery to Amos Andersson. She told him in half-sobbing, broken words about what had happened to her that last night before Tim had left for New York, and the nights which had preceded it in her less-than-perfect marriage, and she even included the sordid incident in Tim's parked car when they'd been engaged. It all came out, and when she was finished, she pressed her tear-streaked face tight against Amos' chest, sobbing as though her heart was broken.

The lecherous older man stroked her hair lightly in gentle comfort, and then he stroked the satiny skin of her arm, a small smile playing across his handsome tanned features. So… just as he thought! A rutting boar of a husband, and a frigid mother! And yet, he could tell that irately Melanie was a very passionate woman beneath her surface, only waiting for the proper combination to stroke her furnace to the boiling point. And he was just the man to do it.

By God, he was… and would be tonight!

In the same tone of voice as he'd been using all along, Andersson said softly into her ear, "Don't think about it any more, my dear. Don't think about how your husband took you all those times so brutally… Don't think how he hurt you inside…"

Despite herself, Melanie was beginning to slowly experience an almost soporific dream as she remained huddled in Andersson's strong, gentle embrace. His words were soothing and hypnotic to her, and though she was aware that he was telling her not to think of what she had done and felt with Tim, the visions were more clear in her mind than ever. She didn't want to think about it, but she couldn't seem to help herself. She clutched the thin material of Andersson's shirt, finding security in his masculine nearness and the gentle stroking of his hand on her bare arm…

Andersson could feel her warmly throbbing breasts harden beneath her thin sweater, and he knew his words were having the desired effect on her mind. She was thinking about it, seeing her and her husband mentally, and the images were causing her unmistakable, if unwanted, arousal in her body. It's working, he thought gleefully. I'm going to fuck this bitch yet!

"Don't think how he would press his naked body down on yours and force his hardened penis deep up inside your tender vagina with brutal force. Don't think how he would pump up and down frantically inside you…"

Strangely, perversely, the images of Tim raping her painfully swollen pussy came back to her a hundredfold. The marijuana and brandy swirled heatedly through her bloodstream, and her nerve-ends seemed to tingle for reasons she could not understand. She could feel a taunting tendril of some unmentionable sensation creep slowly through her loins, and a strange moistness seep out from between her tightly clenched thighs to wet the soft white nylon of her panties. Her nipples were hardening under her brassiere, even though she willed them not to with all her strength. The images continued to grow of their own volition, and Amos was too close, too exciting…

"Don't think about you and Tim, Melanie. Don't think about how he was fucking you. Yes, fucking, my dear… fucking is exactly the right word to describe how he slid in and out of your sweet little cunt until he came with his sperm deep up inside you…"

Andersson could feel Melanie trembling beneath his arm, and now with other emotions than just misery and shame, he thought victoriously. Her loneliness, her physical needs, the aphrodisiac marijuana, and the alcohol in her blood were all working in harmony, on her basic sensual nature, breaking down the barriers of her false prudishness and baring the hot, wild woman beneath. He couldn't control his eagerly pulsating cock from leaping into full erection at the idea of sliding his own male hardness up inside the pussy which her husband had foolishly rejected. Damn, he couldn't wait another moment! She was breathing faster and faster with every word he cooed into her ear, and if there was ever going to be a time to make his play for her, it was right now!

Now was the time to strike!

CHAPTER FOUR

"No, Melanie," Amos Andersson whispered with rising heat. "No, don't think about how your husband fucked you. Think how much better it will be when I make love to you! No man has ever made love to you… gentle, blissful love… but I will. I'll show you – lead you – to the joys you've missed."

He pulled her on her side so that they were facing each other on the long, wide couch, and then he ground his loins tightly into hers, sliding his hand up over the soft roundness of her buttocks beneath her short mini-skirt.

"Oh, Amos, no!" Melanie whimpered into the wetness of his mouth as he leaned over and kissed her hard upon the lips. She tried to pull away from him, but she could not seem to find the energy to resist his caressing touch and delicious kiss, the evil effects of the marijuana gluing her to his arms. She squirmed against the cushion of the couch, forcing the crotch band of her panties deeper into the crevice of her inner thighs. Its smoothness excited the sensitive pink lips of her vagina. She could feel tiny throbs beginning to pulse in the little bud of her clitoris, and she bit her lower lips tightly to hold back the forbidden sensations that were slowly building up between her legs. Dear God, what was happening to her?

Her alcohol and marijuana-dazed body stiffened as she felt her handsome employer begin massaging her softly trembling buttocks from behind. As he ground his loins harder against her, his mouth still locked wetly to hers, she gasped and held her breath, feeling the rising hardness under his pants pressing into her own unwantedly moistened genitals. She clenched her eyes tightly shut, fighting her new unquenchable passions, but the soft fingers of his hand nipping teasingly against her inner buttocks and the hardness of his pulsating penis grinding into her loins brought further moans of helpless submission to her lips.

"Oh, Amos, please don't," she mewled as she felt more lewd delicious feelings rippling across the surface of her flesh. "N-No one but my husband has ever touched me like this!"

"Always a first time for every thing, my dear," he laughed softly, dropping his other hand down between their tightly merged bodies to the flatness of her belly.

"Ohhh, don't do this to me please!" she sobbed. Her body jerked slightly as she felt Andersson's fingers hooking and sliding the material of her short skirt up the front of her naked thighs. She moaned and tried again to pull away, using all her will power to overcome the strange new sensations that were unwantedly building up deep in the pit of her stomach.

"My dear, what you need is to be made love to properly for just once," Andersson whispered. "Just once. You'll never have to be unhappy with what you're getting at home again!"

Melanie gasped and held her breath as she felt the hem of her skirt reach the top of her skirt reach the top of her thighs and his fingers suddenly come in searing contact with the softness of her naked flesh. An electrifying shock danced along the nerves of her inner thighs as she felt him trying to slip his fingers slowly under the tight elastic leg band of her panties. She squirmed desperately but futilely against the unyielding strength of his embrace, whimpering as the full impact of this handsome older man wanting to make love to her burst through the lulling effects of the marijuana and brandy. God, what had come over him? And worse, what had come over her? They were both married, and just because her husband was three thousand miles away was no excuse for her to act like some whore! She had to get out of this awful mess before it was too late!

"Please, Mr. Andersson," she sobbed helplessly, cringing against the back of the couch. "Oh, please let me go! I feel like a fool behaving this way with you. I love Tim no matter what, and I can't do anything I'd be sorry for later. I just can't, Mr. Andersson!"

"Amos, my dear. Call me Amos, remember?" He smiled paternally down at the fearful young wife. "And why can't you enjoy yourself a little on the side? Nobody would know. Your husband is out in New York, and besides, he's probably balling some pick-up he's made in a bar right now!"

Melanie moaned in self-pity. The suspicions she'd been harboring about Tim being unfaithful to her pierced her heart like a dagger as she heard Andersson's words. "I-I don't care," she said miserably, knowing she did. "I would know what I had done, and that would be enough. I'd never be able to face my husband again! I've gone too far as it is!"

"Too late, my dear," Andersson chuckled with a cold, cruel glint in his eyes, as he decided to really take the initiative, "I want you, and deep down inside you know you want me to make love to you. And by God, that's what's going to happen."

Melanie tried to speak, but she couldn't, only able to press herself tightly back against the couch in disbelief. She watched, mesmerized, as he began stripping his clothes from his body with his free hand. She wanted to close her eyes to shut out the horror, but before she could find the strength, he was completely naked. His thick, hard penis stood out from beneath the firm muscles of his tanned abdomen like the menacing shaft of a heavy, blunt spear. He leaned toward her, still holding her thighs down with one hand, and stroking the heavy uncircumcised foreskin back and forth over the bulbous head of his hardened cock with the other.

"Bet your husband never had anything like this to slide into you," he gloated proudly. He continued his tormenting of the terrified girl, watching the contorted expressions of fear and unwilling arousal cross over her face.

Melanie tried to avert her eyes, but against her will, she found that her gaze was dropping again to the hard fleshy erection he was holding in his hand. God, it was thick! In spite of her fear, her drugged mind wondered how a woman could take such a thing inside of her without being split completely apart.

Andersson was built and he knew it, and he hunched near her for a moment longer reveling in the awe the size of his cock was bringing to her eyes. Then he leaned over her and hissed, "Are you going to take your clothes off or shall I do it for you?"

Melanie gasped and held her breath as she felt the hem of her skirt reach the top of her thighs and his fingers suddenly come in searing contact with the softness of her naked flesh. An electrifying shock danced along the nerves of her inner thighs as she felt him trying to slip his fingers slowly under the tight elastic leg band of her panties. She squirmed desperately but futilely against the unyielding strength of his embrace, whimpering as the full impact of this handsome older man wanting to make love to her burst through the lulling effects of the marijuana and brandy. God, what had come over him? And worse, what had come over her? They were both married, and just because her husband was three thousand miles away was no excuse for her to act like some whore! She had to get out of this awful mess before it was too late!

"Please, Mr. Andersson," she sobbed helplessly, cringing against the back of the couch. "Oh, please let me go! I feel like a fool behaving this way with you. I love Tim no matter what, and I can't do anything I'd be sorry for later. I just can't, Mr. Andersson!"

"Amos, my dear. Call me Amos, remember?" He smiled paternally down at the fearful young wife. "And why can't you enjoy yourself a little on the side? Nobody would know. Your husband is out in New York, and besides, he's probably balling some pick-up he's made in a bar right now!"

Melanie moaned in self-pity. The suspicions she'd been harboring about Tim being unfaithful to her pierced her heart like a dagger as she heard Andersson's words. "I-I don't care," she said miserably, knowing she did. "I would know what I had done, and that would be enough. I'd never be able to face my husband again! I've gone too far as it is!"

"Too late, my dear," Andersson chuckled with a cold, cruel glint in his eyes, as he decided to really take the initiative, "I want you, and deep down inside you know you want me to make love to you. And by God, that's what's going to happen."

Melanie tried to speak, but she couldn't, only able to press herself tightly back against the couch in disbelief. She watched, mesmerized, as he began stripping his clothes from his body with his free hand. She wanted to close her eyes to shut out the horror, but before she could find the strength, he was completely naked. His thick, hard penis stood out from beneath the firm muscles of his tanned abdomen like the menacing shaft of a heavy, blunt spear. He leaned toward her, still holding her thighs down with one hand, and stroking the heavy uncircumcised foreskin back and forth over the bulbous head of his hardened cock with the other.

"Bet your husband never had anything like this to slide into you," he gloated proudly. He continued his tormenting of the terrified girl, watching the contorted expressions of fear and unwilling arousal cross over her face.

Melanie tried to avert her eyes, but against her will, she found that her gaze was dropping again to the hard fleshy erection he was holding in his hand. God, it was thick! In spite of her fear, her drugged mind wondered how a woman could take such a thing inside of her without being split completely apart.

Andersson was built and he knew it, and he hunched near her for a moment longer reveling in the awe the size of his cock was bringing to her eyes. Then he leaned over her and hissed, "Are you going to take your clothes off or shall I do it for you?"

"D-Don't touch me," Melanie finally managed to stammer through her immobilizing euphoria. But she knew there was nothing to do to stop him now, for the small part of her mind that was still rational was far too weak to fight both his strength and her own body's strangely rising sensations. This naked man was going to ravish her helpless flesh no matter how much she pleaded with him not to!

He reached out and drew her hard against him, cupping her terrified young face in his palms. With a triumphant grin he pressed his wet lips tightly down over hers again, thrusting his tongue deep into the warm depths of her mouth. She sagged limply on the couch, feeling the hardness of his fully exposed penis digging into the softness of her stomach. A last faint thought of trying to tear herself away flickered hopelessly through her mind, but faded with the tender caress of his hands pressing into the sides of her cheeks.

"That's my lovely girl," he breathed into her mouth softly. "I'll be nice and easy… so gentle with you. You'll see."

Melanie was dimly aware of his hands leaving her face and snaking around her body to the hemline of her sweater. Almost as if he had hypnotized her into submission, she allowed him to draw the thin pullover up over her breasts and off her head and arms. The snaps of her brassiere came next and she heard him mutter a faint sigh of lusty appreciation as he dropped it to the floor and her full white breasts burst into the warm living room air. He reached behind her again to the zipper at the back of her skirt, and with one swift downward motion, he opened it away from her ripely flaring buttocks. She could feel the sensual rush of air against her thighs as he pulled the skirt from her. She swayed dizzily on the couch as she willingly arched her hips permitting him to pull her white nylon panties slowly down over the softness of her rounded buttocks and let them drop to the small skimpy pile of her other clothing on the floor.

There was nothing left. He moved her feet up and now she lay stretched out completely naked on the couch, hearing him panting on his knees beside her. The heady smoke of the marijuana wafted sensuously through her blood, intensifying the uncontrollable sensations which were unwantedly directing her actions. She gritted her teeth together, resisting as best she could, but her utter helplessness and the thought of her husband making love to some other woman were too much for the tormented wife's confused, bedrugged mind. She could only squirm back a little, whimpering as the tip of his finger found the narrow tender crevice of her vagina and thrust gently into it, parting the soft pubic hair and making sudden delicious contact with the hotly throbbing head of her tiny clitoris. She was wet and sensitive from the unwanted desire that permeated her entire being, and she sucked in her breath tightly to hold back the sigh of pleasure she felt growing deep in her chest. There was nothing she could seem to do to fight him back, and tears of disgrace cascaded warmly down over her face as in her shame she found herself reacting involuntarily to the tingling caresses of her overly sensitive breasts and vagina. She was unable to keep from widening her legs, and found her buttocks suddenly undulating in an involuntary up and down rhythm to the light teasing of his fingers sliding between her thighs…

And all this while, Syble Andersson was sitting with a lewd grin of excitement on her face as she concentrated on the large plate glass before her. She had come directly from the Dew Drop Inn, parking her car in the garage where it could not be seen, and gone to the now pitch-dark den beside the living room, where a two-way mirror was installed. She could clearly see all the action, but from the other side, the glass was only a mirror which reflected images, and now she sat sipping a tall Scotch as she watched her husband progress with his seduction.

Damn! Syble thought. Amos really knows how to get a woman going! She could feel a slight twinge of jealousy overcoming her as she studied his face and saw the unmistakable signs she knew so well. Her husband liked to fuck any woman he could lay his hands on, and that was all there was to it. But what he was doing now to that innocent blonde, Melanie, was going to let her, Syble, inside that same girl later. She leaned back with the obscene thought of those long slim legs wrapped tight around her as she shoved her tongue deep inside that warm, tender pussy. By God, she'd show little Melanie what loving was all about! She could feel moisture seeping from her throbbing cuntal lips at the idea as she turned her attention back to the two naked bodies writhing on the wide couch on the other side of the mirror. Small beads of perspiration began to form on her brow from the excitement she always felt when she watched her husband fucking another woman half to death…

Through half-slit eyes, Melanie could see the shadowy form of her naked employer crouching between her open legs that were splayed like angel's wings on the soft, wide couch. She could feel the flat palms of his sweating hands pushing against the softness of her inner thighs, and she watched with gathering horror as his head dipped slowly down… lower… lower… and then!

"Ohhhh!" she jerked, as his hot moist lips closed over the hair-fringed mound at the base of her belly. His eager face disappeared from her view into the soft fleece of her pubic hair as he planted wet tickling kisses on the still resisting crevice, his tongue flicking lizard-like at the quivering opening of her cunt.

"Ohhhh God, don't! Please don't!" she whimpered, trying desperately to screw her naked buttocks back down from the hot tongue flicking mercilessly at her defenseless vagina. His answer was a lewd chuckle and a further stab into the tight fleshy slit of her moistly pink flesh.

"Ahhhggggggg!" she moaned in undisguised humiliation, her head falling back on the cushions as his tongue speared the involuntarily swelling lips of her cunt. In spite of her terror and revulsion at the horrible perversion being done to her helpless genitals, tiny wisps of forbidden pleasure began to burn deep down inside her belly, and tingling little goosebumps rippled across her quivering belly and full heaving breasts.

"Oh God, I can't, I can't let you do this!" she sobbed helplessly, fighting the torturing sensations that were steadily building out of control through her naked young body. She clenched her teeth tight together and fought with all her will against the growing flames that were threatening to burst into uncontrollable fire and devour her resistance. But it was a losing battle as Amos Andersson sucked and licked ceaselessly at her increasingly submitting loins, and her drugged mind hopelessly sensed her love-starved body beginning to shamelessly desert her. Her smooth rounded buttocks jerked up involuntarily toward his wetly darting tongue, sending more delicious spasms of sensation coursing through her raw nerve ends.

Amos felt her surrender and, with a savage grin, he thrust his thick wet tongue deeper into the hotly quivering sheath of her responding vagina. He worked hungrily, feeling the soft moist pubic hair brushing tantalizingly against his cheeks, knowing that she was far too gone now to fight anything he wanted to do to her. As his lips rounded and covered the wetly clasping cunt before him, he could hear low guttural moans from the girl whose soft warm thighs were now closing spontaneously around the sides of his moving head. He could feel her pink wet flesh moving around his long extended tongue as her cuntal walls opened and closed in a sucking motion, attempting on their own to pull him deeper into her. He had never seen anyone so hot, even with the marijuana, and he knew she was now completely at his mercy and loving every moment of it. She needed fucking bad and she was going to get it, her body lost in the heat of her arousal.

"Ohhhh! Ohhhh!" she moaned, the cruel realization of her total loss of control hitting her with shame and humiliation. But her thoughts were fleeting, all that mattering now to her being the delightful shafts of pleasure piercing through her nakedly quivering flesh like tiny prickling needles of fire. She had never expected sex to be like this, that any man could bring such things from her body. She reached down and desperately tangled her fingers in his hair, guiding his face deeper to the spreading lips of her hair-lined pussy, splaying her legs wider with abandonment to give him greater access.

The evil movie owner could stand it no longer. His penis was incited to a hardness he could no longer control, and he had to fuck this innocent young wife before he exploded his cum all over the couch. He grabbed her flailing legs behind the knees and shoved them roughly back against her shoulders, slithering up her sweat-streaked body at the same time. His long rigid cock brushed against her saliva-wet pubic hair, peeling her narrow pink vaginal slit pulsing its lips with open invitation.

Melanie could see Amos Andersson hovering over her through her passion and drug-dimmed eyes. She could feel the hardness of his thick fleshy penis lying the full length of her quaking pink cunt, the jerking head of his cock throbbing between her wide spread buttocks. He insinuated it in a maddening tease that caused her to twist her hips up toward it, her hungry pussy searching desperately for its hard blood-filled tip. Forgotten now were her morals, her marriage, her vows to Tim. Nothing mattered any longer except to have this man's penis far up inside her! Her belly was screaming for it!

Melanie felt the lips of her eagerly quivering vagina being forced open. The elastic rimmed tightness resisted for a moment and then gave way before his hard cruel pressure. The pain was harsh and she mechanically clenched her muscles against it as a long low wail came from deep within her throat. Andersson shoved again, enjoying her screams of pain, ramming forward and sinking his lust-inflated cock all the way to the hilt. Her legs jerked out wide on either side of his lean muscular body as she screwed her buttocks deep down into the cushions in an attempt to escape the sudden brutal impalement.

"Nooooooo! It hurts! It hurts worse than Tim's!" she cried out. She felt as though her body was being torn down the middle and that she would be ripped in half from this giant male member embedded so deep in her belly. Her face was contorted with the agony of his vicious stab inside her, her lips curled back from her teeth, and pleading whimpers coming tumbling from her swollen lips. God, oh God, she couldn't take it! She couldn't!

Andersson held her there for a moment, savoring the spectacle of this innocent young wife impaled helplessly under him with his huge pulsating prick buried deep in her tight little cunt. She'd never had it this deep, he gloated to himself as he pinned her back in the lewd humiliating position. He wished that her stupid husband could see her now, spread-eagled this way with a strange man making her scream and yell. And then he felt her vagina contract involuntarily as she flexed her inner muscles to relieve the impossible pressure. He throbbed his penis gently, expanding it inside her, but still not moving his body.

"Ahhhhgggg," she whimpered through bared teeth, trying to accustom herself to this greater impalement.

He waited a moment and then flexed again, watching her contorted face below. Her mouth hung limply open, her eyes clenched tightly shut. He flexed again, this time setting a slow teasing rhythm to his throbs. He watched her nostrils begin a slow hesitant flaring in time to the beat and knew that she was on that fine line between pleasure and pain.

"Ohhhhh, God! God!" she mewled as the buried cock expanded more and stretched the narrow passage walls of her vagina still more.

Andersson now began long smooth strokes into her defenselessly exposed loins that were wet and slippery from his saliva. He withdrew the shaft of his burgeoning cock until just its blunt tip was left inside the hot dilated opening of her cunt, and then thrust forward hard with his hips until his testicles slapped against the wide-split crevice of her buttocks.

Melanie groaned helplessly as her tender vagina was plundered again and again almost beyond endurance. He was driving her head hard back against the cushions of the couch with every jack-hammer thrust he made, and she couldn't fight from her hopeless position. Her arms were pinned down at her sides by her own updrawn legs. She could feel the giant heated rod of his hardened penis sliding wetly up and down inside her warmly tight passage, and she strained back against his vicious assault on her femaledom. But gradually she was becoming accustomed to his monstrous size inside her, and a masochistic pleasure she had never known before began to replace the firebrands of pain that raced from her totally filled loins to the top of her head.

Goddamn, Amos is fucking her good, Syble Andersson gasped from her seat behind the two-way mirror. She watched the fleshy hardness of her husband skewering to its hilt down between the young girl's widespread thighs, and an obscene thrill rippled through her at the sight. Melanie Cartwright didn't know it yet, but this was just beginning for her, and Syble could hardly wait for her chance to delve between those same urgently jerking thighs. In fact, the way she felt right now, thinking about tasting the softly succulent flesh between those long slim legs, she was tempted to go out and join them this very moment!

Melanie could feel her womb flare wide and the tightly resisting lips of her hair-lined cunt flower open to receive his massively heated staff of love. Her nakedly writhing body felt itself coming to life now, the pain receding more and more as maddening tingles darted up from her soft white belly. Electric sensations rippled through her suddenly twitching cunt and out their fleece-lined lips, dancing like lightning across her trembling thighs and up through the tips of her pink, palpitating nipples. She rotated her hips from side to side around the fleshy impaling cock, her vagina dilating to its rhythmic beating, her body matching his pounding lunges with her own eager upthrusts as she greedily sought more of his long hard cock.

Dear God, it had never felt this good when Tim had "fucked" her! She didn't know why, and she no longer cared to ask. There was nothing else in her world now; no tomorrow, no today, no Tim – nothing except her deep, wet grotto of lust and the pistoning hardness filling it. This was madness she had never known – a total surrender to the lure of flesh, and her drugged mind reveled in her wickedness.

"Ohhhhhhh, yes! Yes, Amos, fuck me! Fuck me hard! Hard!" she begged, gasping. She was approaching what she instinctively knew was an orgasm, something she always missed before, and her body became more animal than human as she twisted and contorted in her frenzied quest for her first climatic release.

A sudden flash of brilliant light made her clench her eyes tightly shut. Through the haze of passion and marijuana she was vaguely aware of someone having entered the room with a camera in their hands, but it didn't matter to her. Nothing mattered except the naked body driving into her from above.

"Judas priest!" she heard a voice like Syble's breath. "Look at little Miss Innocent go!"

"I told you she'd let loose once the grass got to her, my dear," an Amos-like voice panted triumphantly. "You've been watching?"

"Every breathless stroke. Don't fuck her to death, lover. I still want some of her tender pussy too, you know."

"In a minute, my dear. I'm almost there, and so is she!"

"Ram it to her, lover. I want a good shot of this!"

The puzzling voices continued as the remarks became more lewd and bright white flashes struck again and again. But it didn't matter to Melanie. She drove on unheeding, almost ready to cum and unable to stop. Her ravenously hungry vagina spiraled up the full length of his slippery plunging cock as she strove wildly for the end. Then…

"Ohhhh God! God, yes!" she screamed up at him. "This is it! I… I'm going to cum! Ohhh God, I've never cum before, and now I'm going to cummmmmmmmm!"

Suddenly, with a deep-throated mewl, her naked young body began vibrating uncontrollably, and heated secretions of release flowed from her throbbing cuntal passage, drowning his impaling cock with a sticky warmth. She reached frantically around under her squirming buttocks with both her hands to caress his testicles that were pressing into the split of her behind. She felt them spasm…

"Cum! Cum with me! Ohhhhhhh, God, cummmmmmm!"

She could feel her insides splitting delightfully apart as the head of the deep-sunk penis suddenly flared into a hugeness that threatened to tear her belly in two. It began to spurt and she could feel his delicious thick sperm shooting into her like molten lava, erupting in spilling answer to her own hot flowing cum into the already filled cavern of her pinkly quivering vagina.

"Ohhhh, fill me up! Fill me up!" she moaned incoherently as the tender flesh of her pussy clasped like a hungry glove around his wildly spurting cock, sucking the last drop as it continued to gush her own hot streams of orgasmic fluids. She screwed her buttocks up tightly against the still squirting shaft in her cunt and, with another scream from between her tightly clenched teeth, felt her body exploding over and over into what seemed a thousand tiny sparks. Her strength was suddenly gone and she collapsed back on the cushions, feeling Andersson's once-hard penis slowly begin to deflate inside her cum-flooded pussy.

"Ahhhhh…" she sighed dreamily. She'd been fucked and fucked better than she had ever been before in her life. Her pubic area throbbed with a sweet continuous ache, and her flesh trembled from the passionate sensations which had turned her into a sex-craving animal. So wonderful… and as the very shamelessness of her wanton surrender flickered hazily through her mind, the mental image of her naked body being fucked to orgasm by this lewd man lying above her incited her drugged mind once more to arousal. The hunger in her belly began raging out of control again almost instantly. Unconsciously she began to undulate her buttocks in tiny circles, squeezing with her cuntal muscles at the fleshy, flaccid penis still pulsing inside her loins. She had milked it dry once, but spurred on by her newly discovered sexuality and the marijuana in her blood, Melanie was gripped by the desire to have Amos' long thick cock harden in her again. She wanted more of his hot thick sperm to fill her thirsty cunt until it overflowed and ran down her already wetly covered thighs. She wanted to wallow in it again, wallow in her new-found depravity.

"Again… Oh, God, again!" she sobbed out with frustration into his mouth. But it was useless. As much as she squeezed her buttocks up against his softened penis, it would not come alive, again, its mastery lost over her seething emotions. With a satiated sigh of contentment, Amos Andersson rolled from between her still gyrating thighs and onto the floor beside the couch.

"Noooooo! Nooooo, I want more! Fuck me! Fuck me again!" Melanie was beside herself now with her drug-induced lust. She kicked her legs wide out in the air, her own fingers manipulating ineffectually the hair-fringed slit between her thighs. She dug into her vaginal flesh greedily, trying to reach that impossible height to which that vanquished cock had sent her a moment before.

Syble smiled and tripped the camera she was holding another time or two, a glitter of obscene desire burning in her eyes. Then she handed the camera to her husband, who was sprawled on the carpet, and said: "All right, lover, now it's my turn with her."

"Yeah, and I'll add a few good ones for the album before I join in, too."

Melanie felt the cushions of the couch depress as another body sat down beside her head. Through lust-glazed, marijuana-fogged eyes, she struggled to see who it was, and then her hands froze in their lewd position of masturbation.

It was Syble Andersson!

"Oh God," she mewled in sudden humiliation at Amos' wife seeing her like this, naked and with her belly still filled with the wetness of her husband's sperm. She opened her mouth in horror, but was too paralyzed to scream. Instead she jerked one arm up from her still widespread loins and over her face, her face reddening from the shame of being caught in this adulterous position.

"There, there, Melanie," Syble cooed softly. She began stroking the satin blonde hair which was flowing across her legs as the young girl buried her head in the cushions beside her thigh. "I'm not mad at anything. Don't look so sad."

"Wh-What?" Melanie moaned in a broken, sobbing voice.

"I've come to join your little party, not upset it."

Melanie listened, mouth agape, scarcely able to believe what was going on. As the initial reaction of horrified panic settled into disbelieving wonder, she now sensed warm, unclothed skin brushing her cheek, and only then realized Syble was as naked as she was!

The young wife gasped, raising her head from the couch to make sure she had felt correctly. In shocked astonishment she stared at the sight of the naked beautiful woman sitting so close to her. Dear God, what now… now that she's here nude like this? Join the party? How? But Melanie's glazed, drugged mind was too filled with unsated passions, and her belly too aching with unfulfilled desire, to fully understand.

Syble leaned forward and took Melanie's tear-streaked face to her large, firm breasts. Cradling the young wife tenderly as she caressed her brow with gentle fingertips. "Now, don't get so upset just because you were fucking Amos, dear. I've been watching, you know, watching you all the time and really enjoyed it."

"S-Syble? I… I don't understand… What are you doing?"

"Shhhh," Syble whispered. "You just relax and let me bring you more good times."

Andersson's passionate wife trailed her eyes along the length of the young woman's body with undisguised relish, coming to rest at last on her slim white thighs where thin trails of lewd sperm that had just been pumped into her could still be seen glistening wetly in the dim light. Her face contorted with feline pleasure as she thought that now her turn had come… that Part Two was just beginning!

Melanie lay as if frozen against the soft, warm breasts pressing into her cheek, a dry, almost strangling sensation in her throat. She was shocked and surprised, and yet not quite able to resist the smooth motherly caresses. She shuddered, torn between the hot desire scorching her still throbbing vagina and the quick twinge of shame and humiliation that flickered through her confused mind. Then Syble's hand reached downward to touch and caress one of her breasts, and Melanie experienced another new sensation she had never known before. She gasped, momentarily closing her eyes, as she heard Syble's husband chuckle lewdly beside the couch and flash another picture. The long, slim fingers caught her nipple, rolling and squeezing it in a tender, understanding way only a woman could know, and Melanie began to tremble all over at the strange forbiddenness of the situation. This was vile and degrading, worse than when Amos had ravished her willing body with his hard, brutal penis… but at the moment her entire being was in a torment of drug-filled lust, and she couldn't have stopped the beautiful woman's fingers if she'd wanted to.

"You're such a pretty girl," Syble sighed. "I've thought so since I first saw you. Have you fucked many men, Melanie?"

The obscene question jolted her. At first she didn't know how to answer, or even if she should…

"Tell me, love… Please tell me. I get more excited then…"

"N-No…" Melanie finally stammered, not really knowing what made her respond to the lewd question. "O-Only my husband."

"And mine, don't forget," Syble giggled delightedly.

"Y-Yes, and… And Mr. Andersson." She blushed crimson, the obscene words exciting her strangely through the marijuana haze of her mind. "I… I let your husband fuck me."

"And you loved it, too. But you'll like his wife just as well before I'm done. I'll promise you that. I'll make you cum like you've never cum before," Syble whispered seductively, now tilting her head down so that her nostrils breathed heavy hot air on Melanie's face. "Kiss me, love… Kiss me…"

Melanie stiffened as the warm moist lips of Mrs. Andersson closed over hers, and a darting tongue probed along her tightly closed lips. There was a feeling that to kiss another woman would make what was happening all that more obscene, as if there was actual love and affection between them rather than just a basic urge to relieve the tensions unbearable in her loins. But Syble had her hand cradling her head now, and after a moment of hesitation she surrendered to the insistent soft tongue, opening her lips to let it slide into her mouth. Their mouths fused hotly, and Melanie found herself responding with all the passion she would have saved for her husband, sucking and savoring the saliva from the naked woman's mouth, and only conscious of the delicious sensations the French kisses were causing in her already excited flesh.

"Ohhhhh, God, Syble," she murmured as they broke apart. "God, I can't seem to help myself…"

"Isn't that wonderful? But tell me… Tell me what you want!"

"M-Make me cum, Syble… Ohhhh make me cum…!" Her own lewd demands made her drugged mind reel with excitement, and her pulsing blood raced faster through her fevered flesh. Syble's hand continued to massage her breast with that special woman's touch, while Melanie, her abused body still smoldering with the lust-inspired fires Amos Andersson had kindled in her loins, found something horribly fascinating in his lovely wife's attentions. She closed her eyes again and began to tremble all over from the depraved sensations she was feeling, and Syble held her tight, rubbing her naked body against her own so that the nipples of their breasts crushed against each other.

Melanie felt the woman's full thigh raise and her slim leg entwine about her until the soft curly hair of their pubic mounds brushed warmly together. Her hand was on Melanie's buttocks, pulling them apart to slip between and caress the tight sensitive anus with her finger, forcing Melanie to move against the back of the couch and bend slightly.

And then the lesbianic wife of her employer was slithering down the young wife's yearning body, and Melanie groaned as Syble kissed her breasts with soft, wet, feather-light lips. The couch sagged again and Melanie caught her breath as the woman commenced to shower moistly heated kisses on her quivering white thighs and tautly rippling belly. And then Syble forced her legs wider apart, rolling her gently over on her knees. Melanie now straddled the other woman who was lying face up beneath her and between her widespread thighs.

The full expanse of the shamelessly aroused girl's moist pink crevice – from her tiny quivering clitoris hidden in the soft curls of her blonde pubic hair, down past the wetly sensitive vaginal opening which had just been fucked, to the puckered rosebud of her anus – was entirely open and splayed above the older woman's lustful eyes. And in turn, Syble was lying in such a position as to present her own dark-fringed throbbing cunt only inches beneath Melanie's young face.

A great shudder coursed down Melanie's spine as Syble's hotly quivering tongue licked across the soft blonde pubic fleece just around her wetly throbbing cuntal slit. When the tormenting tongue licked again, Melanie cried out deliriously as the black-haired wife nipped her budding clitoris with her sharp white teeth. The younger woman let all remaining thoughts of right or wrong, depravity or passion, pass in one sudden surge of rising ecstasy, and she lowered her firm thighs downwards upon the kissing mouth of Amos' wife, ecstatically as her sensitive pink flesh was licked and kissed with frenzied delight.

In turn, Melanie found that she could not resist brushing her own fingers lightly over the tanned belly and full round thighs of the gorgeous naked woman below her; then she felt a new surge of excitement when she saw the older wife tremble and mewl with desire as little droplets of secretion moistened the pulsating edges the flowering cunt below her face. Syble's skin felt so good to touch, and as the other woman continued to plant long slaving kisses on her burning vaginal crevice, Melanie was filled with a mounting desire to return the soft liquid caresses. She reached down around Syble's warmly writhing buttocks and lowered her mouth to brush lovingly through the soft velvet curls of dark pubic hair below her. I can't… I can't kiss another woman's genitals… And then, suddenly, in a burst of passion her lips and tongue were burrowing down inside the tender swollen folds of moist vaginal flesh. She could smell the fragrant bouquet of feminine aroma rising from Syble's heated loins, and her own moistening pussy ached all the more from the twin excitements of being licked so voraciously and sucking another woman's cunt in return. She screwed her naked young buttocks down harder, splaying her thighs as far as they could go to allow all of her backsides to be fondled and suckled.

It was this wanton movement which caused Syble to mewl back in a gasping muffled voice: "Ohhhh! That's it, dear! Faster! Lick and suck me harder!"

Melanie sucked hungrily now, teasing the woman's little clitoris as Syble was doing to her own, and salivating as she had never before from licking the moistly quivering loins below. Her insides felt as though they had melted with the heat of her passionate arousal. She thrust her tongue harder and harder into the other warmly perfumed vagina every inch of her on fire and the walls of her grasping young cunt sending out erotically maddening sensations throughout her entire body.

Amos chuckled as he watched through the viewfinder of his camera, and shot a snap of his wife's licking tongue hotly embedded between Melanie's lust-swollen cuntal lips. His massive penis which had been soft and drained only moments before was once more stone hard and throbbing with lust, and his hands were shaking so badly that he could hardly take any more pictures. Christ! His plans were working perfectly! Nothing had gone wrong, and there remained only his additional subjugation and submission of the writhing, drug-lusting young girl on the couch above his naked wife for Part Three to be equally successful.

With a growl of bursting passion, he attached a timer to the camera and then positioned it on the coffee table near the couch so that its lens was aimed directly at the wetly probing mouth of the mindless girl. Yes… he'd get one perfect picture of him and her – only one, but it would have to do. Once he started in on her, he knew he'd never be able to leave those soft warm lips of hers until he'd cum in her mouth! He set the timer and then moved for her, fingering his turgid, aching cock lightly and feeling the savage heat of his urgency boiling up like a volcano in his testicles.

Melanie didn't notice the naked Andersson until he had climbed on the broad, soft couch in front of her bobbing head and had knelt between his own wife's widely splayed legs. Fingers tangled in her hair, rudely jerking her hungry young mouth up from the delicious folds of Syble's soft vaginal flesh, and then hands fumbled with her wet lips glistening with saliva and secretions. She felt a rubbery hardness pressing against her mouth, and she opened her eyes to stare at the long thick cock lewdly pulsing against her mouth.

At first she did the natural thing and struggled, trying to roll her head from side to side and draw her thighs together against Syble's ravenous sucking of her cunt, but the older man held her tight and she could not move away. She could only tightly clench her teeth and lips together and try to keep from opening them, but Amos was not to be denied. As he increased the pressure, it felt as though her lips were being pushed back through the sharpness of her teeth; she could even hear him groan as he ground his spongy hardness against her mouth. It was then that Syble added an extra delicious thrust with her fire-lapping tongue which Melanie was unable to ignore. She gasped with wanton delight at the sensations coursing through her sex-crazed loins, and at this moment the man crushed his heatedly throbbing penis through her softly parted lips and into the warm cavern of her wet mouth.

Amos began immediately to screw his throbbing cock viciously back and forth between his lips with an all-consuming lust. The despairing young girl closed her eyes, her humiliation and her shame knowing no bounds, trying not to think of the depraved attack to which he was subjecting her. But it was impossible! His hands were holding her in a vise-like grip, his palms pressed hard against her ears until they were ringing. His thick testicles bounced against her wettened chin, and there was a warm musky odor from his genitals which flared her nostrils with a strange excitement.

"Suck harder, you bitch," she heard him command harshly from above. "Suck my cock harder…" And she did! She was conditioned to following his every lewd demand now from the arousal in her flesh and the marijuana in her blood. Her wetly parted lips slowly began to nibble at the thrusting thick penis, and she coughed and spluttered at first until she became accustomed to this unnatural invasion of her mouth. Oh God, what am I doing? she moaned crazily to herself as two Anderssons, man and wife, began to pummel her helplessly sandwiched body between them. The sensual desires deep inside her belly which had been released by her orgasm and triggered anew by Syble's licking tongue began to flicker hotly through her loins, and the mental image of how she must look in her surrendered position only incited her more. The saliva in her mouth grew and grew, becoming salty and thick with the emissions seeping from the tip of Amos' wildly pumping cock. She could feel his penile shaft expanding between her tightly ovalled lips as it had inside her cunt, and she moaned piteously around it as he thrust his flexing buttocks forward and drove his impaling hardness down her throat as though he were trying to meet his own wife's lashing tongue that was skewering deep into her vagina from below.

Syble had begun to lick and suck still harder now, spurred on by the lewdly inciting thought of how her husband must look as he savagely speared his wetly gleaming penis in and out of the innocent young wife's tortured mouth. She lashed mercilessly up at the quivering bud-like clitoris of the young woman splayed above her, using her teeth to tease and delight while Melanie writhed and churned uncontrollably in rising desire. With an obscene and triumphant satisfaction she could feel the muscles of the girl's inner thighs flexing and unflexing with their own implacable lust, and she knew that any slight hesitation the girl might have felt earlier was rapidly disappearing. She could feel her own spiraling climax approaching like a rocket and spread her quivering legs farther apart as she reached down along her perspiring body to thrust three fingers into her own swollen cunt. She massaged her hungrily clasping vagina with surging motions while she continued to suck salaciously in time to the cruel buffeting of Melanie's writhing young body between her and her equally depraved husband.

Melanie Cartwright had never felt so utterly abused and depraved before in her life. But a lascivious fire was burning in her belly as the very knowledge of her helpless submission weakened her already drugged spirit. A strange masochistic joy once again began to rage through her tingling nerves with the ever increasing sensations of Amos Andersson's long hard penis ramming wetly between her lips and his wife's greedy mouth raping her hotly throbbing pussy. She was beginning to desire this lewd subjugation and was growing to wish for more of the obscene sensations which were saturating every inch of her naked flesh. She rolled her clenching buttocks down in tiny lewd circles and constricted the muscles of her cuntal walls to squeeze the wet, flashing probe of the woman's spearing tongue. At the same time, she sucked insatiably at the thick, swollen cock in her mouth, her cheeks bloating with his every thrust. It was the first time in her life she had ever tasted a man's penis and she hungrily explored it with her tongue, an excited moan escaping from her throat as she betrayed her surrender to her own tormenting passion.

"That's right, my dear," Amos chuckled down at her, his voice coarse and rasping with his arousal. "You like a man's cock now that you've tried it. Go on… go on and take my balls! Squeeze them but be gentle! And suck! Suck until I cum in your mouth!"

Melanie cupped his semen-filled testicles gingerly with her fingers, not because he had spoken, but because she was unable to do anything else. She sucked demon-like in a haze of drug-inspired passion, swishing her tongue around and around the throbbing hardness sliding in and out between her tightly ovalled lips and taunting the thin little hole in the blunt head of his cock with increasing delight. The masochistic joy of being abused like some dirty slut picked up out of the gutter permeated her innocent young body, and submissive mewling sounds escaped from between her lips locked wetly around his hard thrusting penis. She groaned with the forbidden excitement of knowing that at any moment he was going to spew his lewd white sperm into her mouth until it ran from the edges of her lips in heated white trails, and wickedly she wanted to experience the lewd taste. She wanted to feel him shoot his cum into her so she could swallow the creamy semen down her throat until her stomach was as filled as her adulterous cunt. Her shame and debasement would be complete then, and she would be the whore she had allowed herself to become tonight. She had lost control over everything she knew was right and good and true, and there was nothing left for her. She could never face Tim again with the same innocence, for somehow she had turned into the animal she had previously deplored, her decency and self-respect having totally deserted her for some unknown, nightmarish reason she was unable to fathom. The Anderssons wanted her to fuck, then she would fuck! They wanted her to suck, then she would suck! They wanted her to be a whore, and that was what she had become!

Her tormentedly drugged mind droned on senselessly, the very helplessness of her position excusing away the weird masochistic sensations that were surging so erotically through her belly. Her head bobbed up and down slavishly over the thick shaft of his hardness, sucking to end it, sucking to draw his milky white cum from it as she thrust her loins down harder against the more than willing Syble, opening her cuntal muscles wide so she could receive every fractional inch of that wonderfully working tongue deep up inside her.

Above her flailing head, Amos groaned incoherently, every nerve he possessed pulsing and throbbing between her soft warm lips. The pressure building in his testicles as she eagerly fondled them was excruciatingly wonderful, and his wildly throbbing cock seemed to be inflating beyond anything it had ever done before. Then suddenly there was a jerking spasm in his loins, and he knew his end had come. Nothing in the world could have stopped the flow of thick white liquid that rushed like a geyser up from his aching testicles and out the tip of his suddenly jerking penis. He gripped her head tightly between his hands and shoved his lust-hardened shaft deep down her throat, feeling her wildly sucking lips drawing his hot sperm out into the warmth of her salivating mouth. He could feel her throat tighten and untighten as she swallowed in great hungry gulps the hot, boiling cream he was spurting into her, and he could see her cheeks bloating as the working cavern of her mouth filled and emptied, only to fill again as he shot his cum relentlessly into her mouth.

Even when his climax had ended, Melanie would not let go of his rapidly softening penis. Her lips continued to nibble, her throat and cheeks constricting as if to draw all of his fleshy manhood inside her, and Amos knew that his wife was just about to tongue fuck the young blonde wife to orgasm.

Melanie felt as though she were losing her mind as she spasmed in convulsive waves, her mind whirling in depraved sensuality as the fluid of her cumming flowed out around Syble's deeply flicking tongue. Her face contorted and a low guttural moan erupted as she felt the other naked woman thrashing in her own throes of orgasm, not knowing and not caring that Amos' wife had buried three fingers inside her own cuntal hole to achieve this gratification. And then, at last, it was over…

Melanie's legs bent obscenely as she rolled over and felt Amos' now limp penis slipping from her mouth with a wet, sucking sound. A long sigh of satiation rasped from the abused young wife's heaving chest, and she relaxed her legs in relief from the painfully stretched muscles of her previously kneeling position. Her body was beaten and filled as it had never been before, and her heart pounded in her chest as she saw the obscene picture the three of them nakedly made on the wide cushions, her arms and legs spread apart and two sprawling people she hardly knew nakedly covering her between them. The euphoria of the marijuana waned with the relaxation of her climax, and as her mind slowly returned to sanity, a new and even more powerful wave of shame and humiliation overcame her. God, she had no idea what had come to possess her, but she had been unable to control herself in any way, and not only had her body shamelessly betrayed her, but she had also betrayed her deep abiding love for her husband. And with her shame, she was gripped by a bitter desire to get away from this horrible house as fast as she could…

"Like it, my dear?" Amos said casually, lifting his head and grinning at her.

"Yes," she said miserably. How could she deny the obvious after the way she had been acting? "Yes, but now let me up. I want to go home."

"In a minute, in a minute," he replied in an off hand manner. "I'm still resting comfortably. You sucked me inside-out, I swear, and right after I fucked the hell out of you, too. I'm a little tired. Can you blame me?"

Melanie groaned from this further indignity. It was bad enough to have been so weak and corrupt to have allowed herself to surrender to the man whose cum lay hot and sticky deep in both her body's ends, but to have to listen to him talk about it afterwards was simply too much to take.

"Amos, please, let me up, please," she whimpered.

"What are you worried about? There's nobody here but us chickens."

"I know, I know," she pleaded, struggling with muscles that were as responsive as melted rubber. "But I've had enough."

"Let her up, Amos," his wife said sympathetically. She moved slightly so that her thigh was no longer resting on Melanie's leg. "She looks dead-beat and worn to the bone."

"Yeah, she does at that." Andersson smiled and sat up, removing his arms. "Maybe she has taken all she can for one night."

"Forever," Melanie whispered in a promise to herself. She pulled herself slowly to her feet, pausing as she nakedly stood to allow her aching limbs time to adjust to the change before she tried to walk.

She saw herself in the full-length mirror – the two-way mirror which she was still unaware had helped in her seduction. She studied with tear-blurring eyes the bruises and welts that marked her smooth white skin, and she reached up hesitantly and touched her throbbing breasts. She winced, for they were actually more raw and sore than they had been after Tim had so brutally raped her a month ago. She stood a moment longer, eyeing her piteous form in the mirror, and then stumbled back to the foot of the couch to pick up her clothes. They were still in the heap in which they had fallen when Amos Andersson had stripped her drug-helpless body naked a seeming eternity ago. A picture of that disheveled pile could tell without a word the whole story of her sordid downfall. The phrase "one picture is worth a thousand words" ran crazily through her mind. A few hours ago she was still a faithful and innocent wife who had never had anyone other than her husband, and now she stood with the lewd sperm and obscene saliva of two complete strangers – one female, one male – lying deep inside her body. No matter what Tim might be doing in New York, it didn't excuse her for what she had done here tonight, and she vowed that somehow she would always keep her shame a secret from him. Her husband must never know – never!

She struggled slowly into her thin pullover and tight mini-skirt, and then surveyed the living room one final time. It would live in her mind forever as the symbol of her impossible degradation. Then she turned without a word and started slowly for the front door.

"You want me to call a taxi, my dear?" Andersson asked.

She turned and studied the naked man. Handsome and muscular, a small satisfied smile on his lips, Amos sat in total ease on the couch with his legs casually crossed. His wife was curled beside him, a cat-like smirk on her face, one of her slim hands tenderly stroking her husband's obscenely exposed penis.

"No," Melanie said coldly, shivering as she turned away from the salacious pose the two of them made together. "No, I don't want you to do anything more for me, Mr. Andersson. You've done quite enough already."

She opened the large front door, hearing a soft chuckle, and she paused, her spine stiffening. "And what's more," she called back over her shoulder, "Please don't expect me at work tomorrow evening. Or any other evening."

"Oh really, my dear?"

"That's right. I quit!"

She didn't bother to close the front door, tears of shame and self-loathing falling down her blushing cheeks as she stumbled out into the night. Behind her, she could hear Syble's loud, mocking shriek coming from inside the Andersson home and chasing her into the dark street leading back to Greenridge…

CHAPTER FIVE

Melanie Cartwright sat in an old squeaky rocking chair, her hands folded neatly in the lap of her bathrobe as she stared sightlessly as the animated screen of her television set. Her eyes viewed but did not watch; her ears heard but did not listen; her mind was concentrating on more important matters than the raucous images dancing only a few feet away. Three days of bed rest and home care had alleviated most of the physical damages to her ravished, battered and bruised body, but Melanie doubted if anything could ever eliminate the horrible mental injury done to her soul.

Lethargically she rose from the rocker and walked to the kitchen, where a three-quarter full bottle of bourbon was on the counter. It had been new and unopened that morning, just as two empty ones resting in the garbage sack beneath the sink had been full the last two respective mornings, and more than likely this one on the counter would join them by tomorrow. It was her only sedative to calm her ragged nerves enough to function during the daylight hours and sleep through the dark night's constant dreams.

She poured herself a half a tumbler full, put the bottle back on the counter and returned to the rocking chair in the living room.

Though it was brightly shining outside with Saturday's mid-morning sun, she had closed the venetian blinds, unable to face the brilliance in her present frayed condition. She took a long drink from the straight bourbon and felt the liquid hit the bottom of her stomach. The warmth crept through her body, causing a slight tingling sensation to ripple across her skin. It felt good, so she raised the glass and took another long sip. Her heavy-ridded, shallow eyes turned back to the soap opera on the television screen, but once more her mind returned to the horror of that Wednesday night when she had innocently accepted the Andersson's invitation…

The drinking at the Dew Drop Inn… The smoking of the marijuana… The surrender of her spontaneously passionate body to the assault of her employer – her ex-employer now, thank God… The obscene mouth of his naked wife upon her wide-splayed thighs… Oh dear God! She shivered convulsively and took another large swallow of the amber liquor to soothe the misery in her heart. She knew she should be filled with repugnance and loathing for the vile things that had been done to her, and she was. But her nightmares were not of them so much as of her own despicable submission and performance, and that was scaring her more. She had not merely succumbed to the Andersson's perverted advances, but had given herself willingly, and what had happened was as much her own doing as either of theirs. The fact of the matter was that she had been completely and wantonly enslaved by the ugly but delightful sensations they had sent coursing through her helplessly trapped body. Had she been the strongly moral person she had always thought herself to be, the whole repulsive incident would never have happened.

God, she was so desperately ashamed. Tim would never forgive her if he ever found out about that night. He was too proud and sensitive, and while a woman might forgive a man for an indiscretion, a man could never forgive a woman no matter how unfair it was. She still loved her husband, too, perhaps more now with the dreadful knowledge that she had let her body betray her fidelity. She alone had to suffer for this, and she was determined to protect his honor and her marriage from the secret, no matter how much it might hurt her deep inside herself.

Melanie drained her glass and returned to the kitchen to fill it once more. After placing the bottle on the counter again, she changed her mind and took it with her into the living room, setting it down within easy reach beside the rocker. Again her mind revolved with the horrid remembrance of that night…

Yes, there was no doubt about it. As things stood, the appalling truth would be kept locked within her heart, there to remain hidden forever as far as she was concerned. Time, she hoped, would eventually seal the vicious episode away in some dark recess of her brain, there to heal until only a minor scar would remind her it had ever happened.

She leaned her head back in the chair for a few moments, wondering how she could ever convince Tim to move to another town or suburb, the further away from Greenridge as humanly possible. But she knew she had to, for she must never chance seeing the Anderssons again, and so far she hadn't, not even returning to the theater for her pay check. She could feel blood rising in her cheeks at just the thought of what Amos' lean muscular handsomeness and Syble's voluptuous sensuality had done to her. Truly, they had reached her baser animal instincts before they were through with her, and she could never allow her naked flesh to run away with her like that again. At least not with anybody else except her loving husband…

It was rather warm, and Melanie opened her flower-print bathrobe she had been wearing since she got up that morning, and exposed her unclothed body to the slight breeze that came in through a partially open front window. Once more she inspected her soft, white skin, this time not looking for outward signs of damage as much as for tell-tale traces of dissipation. Strange, she had to admit to herself nobody could possible know by looking that she'd been fucked and sucked half to death by another man and woman…

She concentrated on her breasts, and remembered vividly how Amos Andersson had first taken their taut, puckish fullness and made them throb with life. Yes, and had made her come alive until she had climaxed for the first time ever, begging shamelessly for his thick, long penis to slave a burning fire in her uncontrollably lusting vagina… a vagina which until then had known no man except her husband. Melanie squeezed her eyes tightly shut as the erotic memories came flooding back, reviving a sudden twitch between her thighs. She was forced to squeeze her legs tightly together in an effort to end the tingling sensation there, moaning as she again lay her head back against the wicker of the rocking chair.

This is no good… I'm only torturing myself… I've got to get a firm control of my senses! My God, am I going mad?

Suddenly she realized that the doorbell was ringing, and after a few moments of waiting and hoping whoever it was would go away, she resignedly stood up and carelessly tied the cord of her bathrobe around her waist. She walked down the short hallway to the door and opened it.

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Cartwright? Registered letter for you." A white-haired, stoop-shouldered postman handed her a manila envelope. His eyes blatantly traced the contours of her breasts and thighs under the loosely tied bathrobe, and he smiled with obvious appreciation.

"Th-thank you," she said, drawing her robe tighter around her and grabbing the envelope. Who could -? There was no return address on the letter itself, and only and unreadable scrawl on the receipt pasted to its front.

"You have to sign for delivery, Ma'am," the now ogling older postman said, and held out a thick stub of pencil. She signed with a hurried signature, blushing furiously at the knowledge that with every second she was in front of him, the postman was breathing heavier with excitement. She handed the pencil back and slammed the door before he had a heart attack on her doormat and died with that obscene smirk on his lips.

My God, she thought as she took the letter back into the living room, and sat down again, had she sunk so low that even a postman had no respect for her? Angry at him, and at herself, she ripped the envelope open and dumped the contents out in her lap… and was abruptly shocked mindless as if stunned by a bolt of lightning!

There, lying in her lap was her pay check from the Bijou Theater. And with it were three of the most pornographic photographs she could have ever imagined. And worse, they were of her with Amos and Syble Andersson!

In horror, she picked one of them up. The picture was a full-color reproduction of herself kneeling nakedly on the couch with Syble, sprawled beneath her, licking hungrily at her tender pink vagina. Melanie had her smoothly rounded buttocks splayed wide in full view of the lens, showing all of her desire-moistened cuntal slit. With a helpless cry of revulsion, Melanie flipped to the next, and saw her flushed wet mouth lewdly ovalled around Andersson's hard, glistening penis. She gasped at this obscenity, but the third picture was by far the worst. It showed the naked man's thick fleshy cock pumping out his surging white semen into her painfully stretched vagina, her backsides lewdly flooded with the overflow of his cum.

Melanie groaned and fell back, her arm over her eyes. From deep in her subconscious, she now recalled the bright flashes going off and the strange noises in the background. Her passion-crazed mind had not related them to a flash camera at the time, but it was unmistakably clear to her now that's what they had been.

She lay in the rocker for several minutes without moving, then slowly sat up and looked down again at the horrible reminders of that evening, almost vomiting at the lust which was so plainly visible on her face in each of them. One of the three photographs had turned over, and on the back of it she saw that a message had been written in the familiar penmanship of Amos Andersson. It read:

"If you want the others, come to my house Saturday (today) at three o'clock in the afternoon. If you think your husband would like the photos instead, don't show up. Love, Amos."

It wasn't until she had read the message three times that the full impact of its implications hit her. My God, what did he have in mind for payment? He'd want something, she had no doubt about that… but what? He knew she had no money…

And then her stomach knotted and convulsed as if it had just turned over. She suddenly got the meaning, all right. There was little question regarding what he had in mind, only what was to happen if she should be agreeable. The ghastly truth that she was going to have to bargain the keeping of her secret by giving Andersson her body seemed unbelievable to her, yet she knew that she might have to do just that in order to avoid a worse fate. Suddenly she felt nauseous as vivid memories of Amos Andersson crouched over her face, his large throbbing hardness shoved halfway down her throat, flooded her mind. She fell limply back on the rocker, reached for the half full glass of bourbon, and drained it straight down. Droplets ran loosely down the edge of her mouth. The burning sensation helped dull her senses a little, and she immediately poured herself another, trying to smother the knowledge that in a couple of hours she would have to return to that horror-house in the hills, for Tim's sake if nothing else.

She couldn't bear for him to know the depths to which she had wallowed by seeing those indecently filthy pictures of her. It would destroy all love he had for her in one wide-eyed scathing moment. She drank the whiskey to give her courage, then staggered defeatedly into the bedroom and began to dress. She put on the same thin, low cut dress she had been wearing the night Tim had attacked her, the irony of the choice not escaping her bitter thoughts, and took a last look at herself in the mirror and a last glass of liquor. She wanted to be as alluring as possible in hopes she could convince Mr. Andersson to give her the dirty pictures without having to compromise herself too much. But she had the most dreadful apprehension that merely looking nice would not be enough to satisfy that evil man's degenerate soul.

***

Melanie's taxi pulled up in front of the Andersson's spacious home a little before three. Well, better late than never, Melanie thought with wryness as she paid the driver. The neighborhood was quiet but there were an awful lot of automobiles parked around, and she had a momentary sense of panic, almost turning to tell the driver to take her back to her home. But her overwhelming desire to recover those pictures took hold of her again, and she gathered up her spirits and walked along the crushed oyster shell path, over the bridge, and to the front door. She pounded the brass knocker, and after a few moments, the door slowly swung open.

Amos Andersson stood smiling in the doorway, softly tweaking the end of his mustache with one hand, the other in the pocket of his crimson velvet smoking jacket. The thumb of the hand that was in his jacket pocket was exposed, and it rubbed along the seam with a casual motion. Melanie couldn't tell if he had a shirt on underneath the smoking jacket, although he was wearing a pair of snug trousers and his usual black shoes polished to a high luster.

"Well, my dear, I see you accepted my invitation," he said smoothly. "Good to have you here again."

"I-I want those pictures, Mr. Andersson," she blurted, trembling.

"Yes, I suppose you do." He moved aside and held the door wide for her. "Well, do come in and we'll chat about it. And please, my dear, please call me Amos. I so prefer it among friends."

He was definitely no friend of hers, but Melanie didn't want to say anything that would harm her chances, so she replied: "Thank you… Amos." She walked into the all too familiar living room, and almost sat down on the wide white couch before hastily changing her mind and settling in a small chair instead. She nervously crossed her legs, seeing already from the way that Andersson was roving his eyes over her mentally cringing body that it would not be easy to accomplish her purpose.

"Now then, my dear, let's consider this situation." Amos talked softly, leaning with one elbow on the mantle of the porcelain fireplace. "You have something I want, and I have something you have to have."

"Mr. Andersson – Amos," she said, catching the fire in his sultry eyes, "I love my husband… I want to forget what happened between us. Please, won't you let me have those pictures?"

"My dear," Andersson said, chuckling, "you are most amusing at times. Give you the pictures? Don't be naive!"

Melanie's head reeled from the whiskey and the humiliation of sitting here with this handsome but evil man while his feverish gaze absorbed every inch of her body. Dear God, it was as if he were undressing her with his eyes! She attempted one last desperate act in an effort to frighten him into giving her the prints without further compromising herself. She glared back up at him, her features as cold as she could make them.

"Amos, if you don't hand over those pictures to me at once, I'm going to leave here and go directly to the police!"

"Go ahead, if that's what you want," Andersson shrugged nonchalantly and added: "Go ahead, but it'll be the word of a respectable businessman against that of a girl who poses for dirty pictures. Pictures that would soon be published in a chain of nationwide men's magazines, and hawked in every skid row bar from here to… to New York City!"

"No!" Melanie gasped, jumping to her feet. "You wouldn't!"

"No, not if we can come to some kind of, ah, arrangement, my dear. After all, we are both adults, are we not?"

"Blackmail!" the horrified young wife hissed. "You're nothing but a lewd blackmailer!"

"It's not very polite to call me names, Melanie," Andersson replied with a mockingly sorrowful expression. "After all, you are Mrs. Cartwright, aren't you? You are the one who's married to Timothy Cartwright, but who let me and my wife both fuck you silly last Wednesday night, aren't you? I mean, you are Mrs. Cartwright the adulteress?" He laughed in a throaty delight at his rhetorical questions. "Of course you are. Now, do you want to go or stay awhile?"

A ghostly tremor rippled over the terrified woman as she stared with disbelief at her debasing tormentor. Her throat and lungs constricted tightly, and she knew deep in her heart that it was useless trying to plead to a decency he didn't possess.

"Well, my dear?" Andersson urged maliciously.

"I'll… I'll stay," she managed to say in a strangled voice.

"That's better, my dear. Besides, I'm doing you a favor. I could make a great deal of money with those pictures, you know, but I'm allowing you to bid for them first. I think that's rather noble of me, don't you?"

"How… how much do you want?" she stammered, clutching the arms of the chair behind her with claw-like fingers. "I don't have much, but… But I'll pay what I can…"

"Not money. Oh, my dear, never money. I want you, all of that lovely firm body of yours!"

"Oh God," Melanie moaned and slumped back into the chair again, her whole body sprawling with defeat, her dress hiking inadvertently up over her slim round thighs. "I… I can't, Amos. I… I've never been unfaithful to my husband, except that once, and… and I just can't again!"

"Yes, you will," Andersson replied, his voice growing stern and harsh with command. "You will or else I'll ruin you!"

Melanie sat in a state of shock, bitterly realizing that this horrible man would do exactly as he threatened if she did not give in. Every degenerate across the nation would have the pictures of her engaged in unnatural acts of love. It would kill Tim, and she would be humiliated no matter where she tried to run and hide.

"If… If I agree," she said dully, "I want the pictures first."

"Heavens, no, my dear," Andersson said. He licked his thick lips, knowing she had mentally surrendered herself to the inevitable. "No, you'll get them afterwards. They're my insurance, you see."

"How… How do I know you'll give them if I do?"

"Oh, you can trust me," he answered, coming closer to the chair. "But this has taken all too much time, my dear. The others are impatiently waiting."

"Wh-What?" Melanie whispered in a choked voice. "What do you mean, others? Another man?"

"Why, of course. We're going through that little door over there as soon as I've undressed you, and down into my private cellar where everybody is waiting to see what you can do for me."

"But I thought…" the stunned young wife whimpered. "But I thought I was just going to have to please you!"

"Ah, but it will please me this way, my dear."

"Oh, no," she moaned, revulsion mushrooming inside her disbelieving mind. "Please don't make me do that. I can't, knowing others are watching. That I can't do! I won't!"

"Well, we'll see about that when the time comes." Andersson reached down and lifted her dress, beginning to pull it up over her full thighs. "First we'll just take your clothes off and then a little bit of make-up… to make you even prettier, and then…"

Melanie had lain motionless in a momentary shock from the horrible threats he had been making, but this last one – to perform in some cellar with other men all around – was simply too much for her mind to accept! As he reached to move her dress up higher, she reacted to his touch with a hysterical repulsion, and without fully realizing what she was doing, she lifted one leg back and abruptly kicked out in terror, catching Andersson full on the chin. He was caught by surprise, and let out a growling yell as he tumbled backwards onto the carpeted floor. He slowly regained his feet, shaking his head to clear it, a slight trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth.

"You shouldn't have done that, my dear," he said in a low, coldly composed fury. "No, you shouldn't have done that at all…"

Melanie shrunk back in the chair, her heart leaping into her throat. She saw his eyes flicker with a cruel hatred, and she knew that any compassion he may have held for her before had been totally destroyed. Deep fear gripped her belly as she watched him bring his hand slowly to his mouth and wipe the blood away. His gaze glanced to the smeared streak on the back of his hand and then quickly back to her.

He slowly untied the satin sash of his velvet smoking jacket, exposing his bare, muscular chest beneath, and without a word withdrew a long leather belt from his pants. Melanie huddled in frozen terror, her eyes staring in wide-eyed horror as he raised his arm and cracked the belt through the air, the tip biting through the cloth of her dress and brassiere to snap at her left breast with a sudden excruciating pain. She cried out in agony, and fell limply to the floor in front of him, hands clutching his pants legs in a beseeching manner.

"No! I'm sorry! Oh God, Amos, I'm sorry!"

The belt sang through the air again, this time catching her full across her back and as far down as her buttocks. She screamed again, this time deeper as the cruel leather cut its way into the bare flesh of her legs, leaving a tiny red welt rising on her skin behind its cruel path.

"Aggg! Aggg! No! No more, please! I'll do it! I'll do whatever you want! I'll do anything!" she blurted out after several more lashes of the sickening torture. The pain was unbearable and she knew if he hit her enough she would faint dead away. Her mind was beyond logical thought, the only thing mattering to her was to escape his horrible punishment.

"Say fuck, shit, cunt!" the evil movie house owner harshly demanded. By God, he would break this proud girl's spirit yet!

"Ohhhhh, fuck, shit, cunt!" the words spurt from her mouth without hesitation, no thought of resistance left.

"Again!"

"Fuck! Shit! Cunt!" she shrieked.

Amos Andersson held the belt threateningly over his head for a moment longer, a lust-eager smirk dancing across his lips. Then he tossed the belt aside and reached down for the young wife he had just savagely tortured. Melanie closed her eyes tightly as she felt the humiliation of his hands moving over her, stripping her clothing away. He didn't bother with buttons or snaps, but ripped her thin summer dress from the neck down to the hem, peeling the pieces away roughly and throwing them haphazardly to the floor. She clenched her teeth together, fighting off waves of nausea as he drew her thin nylon panties slowly down her rounded full buttocks and off her tapered legs. Her brassiere came last as he took each cup in a hand and tore it away brutally, her firm full breasts popping out like ripe succulent melons ready for harvest. The tiny red nipples hardened involuntarily as they hit the warm air of the living room, and stood up like dainty pink buds of a spring flower ready to quiver into blossom.

Andersson stood back from her a few feet then, and turned to pick up a cosmetics case nearby. This should be a most entertaining and profitable day combined, he thought happily, as his gaze once more wandered over the voluptuous young body sprawled naked and defenseless before him.

Melanie huddled docilely in the center of the carpet, her thoughts a jumbled mass of humiliation and hopelessness. She knew she was at his mercy. She could not fight against pain or even the threat of it, and she wished she was dead this very minute to escape the degradation she knew was to be heaped upon her naked body now. But there was no way out, only helpless submission to a brutal man who was entirely without scruples or compassion. She had no idea what to expect down in that cellar he'd spoken of, but her imagination ran wild with fears. What could ever be enough for a man like him? Great tears of self-pity swelled through her clenched eves and rolled silently down her cheeks.

Suddenly she shuddered as she felt the long, manicured nails of Andersson's smooth fingers caressing her face. She opened her eyes and saw he was kneeling beside her with a large, hat box shaped cosmetic bag open before him. Humming delightedly to himself, Amos began combing her long blonde hair out into its full length beauty again, spraying it gently as he worked with some kind of lacquer that made it shine more radiantly than ever.

"Don't be so frightened, my dear," he said in a calm voice. "You were most accomplished with Syble and myself last Wednesday night. It really won't be different – much. There are some marijuana cigarettes in the make-up bag there, if you would like one."

"No," she protested, shivering under his light, sure, touch. "I won't ever smoke one of those horrid things again."

"That's up to you, my dear. I brought them over here in case you wanted some help overcoming those silly inhibitions of yours."

Melanie sat in dejection as Andersson applied make-up to her in an effort to erase the marks of her crying and beating until she was presentable again. She looked at the thin brown cigarettes and pondering whether she should have one or not to relieve her horror and fear. She was deathly afraid that she would suddenly be gripped with revulsion and not be able to go through with it. Once it had resulted in a belt whipping… the next time it should happen, she was afraid it might destroy her chances forever of getting those pictures back from Andersson, and with that all her hopes for a decent life again with Tim.

The nakedly trembling young wife reached forward slowly and picked one out of the cosmetic bag and lit it. She took a deep, deep drag, feeling the familiar pungent sweetness within her lungs, and then quickly inhaled again. As she smoked, she sat before the mirror that was in the uplifted lid of the cosmetics case; and with each pull from the thin, burning cigarette, she gradually felt a calmness relax some of her tense, frayed nerves.

She watched with detached interest as Andersson worked on her face and hair, studying in the reflection of the mirror the motion of his fingers across her skin and the quivering curves of her naked flesh. She was more beautiful than she had really noticed before, and she moved slightly so she could examine all of her in the mirror. Her breasts were creamy white and firm as a teenager's, and she could see, as well as feel, her nipples tingling into taut erection, protruding from her swelling round globes into the open air. She drew further from the soporific cigarette, holding the smoke long – long – until her lungs would almost burst from the delicious pressure being exerted upon them. The mirror began to haze her image… Amos' fingers were feeling like little spider's legs on her flesh… she could feel within herself anything she concentrated upon… the insidious marijuana again began to take its toll upon the logic of her mind…

"There now," Andersson eventually said, standing up to admire his handiwork. "You're all set for your debut. Come, my dear," he said, lifting Melanie to her feet with his hand, "Come and see where I will make you famous…"

He led her as he would a timid child across the living room to a door at the opposite end. With every step of her bare feet, Melanie felt more naked and defenseless than ever, and with it, a gripping return of her initial shame and terror. But the marijuana had braced her a little, and she now felt prepared to go through with it in spite of her revulsion toward the depraved, handsome man who had her at her mercy. She had created this horrible situation by her moment of weakness, and there was no one to get her out of it except herself. She just hoped to get it over with as quickly as possible and get away with those damning pictures. Then, perhaps, she could piece together a semblance of a normal life again.

"Ah, my dear, I can see you're looking forward to it after all."

"Don't call me 'my dear'," she said thickly as he opened the door. "I've agreed to your terms because I have no other choice, but I won't give you my soul. You can't make me want you, no matter what you do."

"Are you certain, my dear?"

"Yes, I'm certain!"

Andersson laughed with cruel, taunting maliciousness, and then holding her by her arm, he guided her down the wide, broad steps to the cellar below…

CHAPTER SIX

Even the soothing effect of the marijuana cigarette she'd smoked upstairs wasn't enough to prepare Melanie for the shock she received when she entered the cellar. It was quite large and quite dark, except for a brilliantly spotlighted circle in the exact middle of the room. She was reminded of a stage or movie set, or the middle ring of a sex circus, with the audience seats around it cloaked in darkness. There was a thick white carpet on the floor that felt nice to Melanie's bare feet as Andersson led her out onto it. Before her was the largest round bed she had ever seen, also covered with the same white fur. Where the headboard curved around one quarter of the bed, large sections of mirrors rose in an arc, high up and then over like a reflective canopy so that whoever was on the bed could watch every little detail that was happening.

Melanie wriggled her toes in the fur, nervously shading her eyes with one hand against the harsh light burning down on her. She peered all around her, but most everything beyond the ring of lamps was a dim, unrecognizable blur. She was able to make out Andersson's wife, Syble, sitting on a low settee off to one side. Melanie strained her eyes, and it seemed to her that Syble was absolutely naked, her breasts and thighs reflections of tanned flesh as she moved to a more comfortable position. With her looked to be a naked man, but Melanie couldn't be sure… but as she moved her face around to other points of the dim room beyond her circle, she was sure that she could see more black forms of men; some tall, some short, some sitting, some standing, but all of them unclothed and naked.

"Go to the bed, my dear," Andersson commanded, and meekly Melanie left his side and stumbled across the carpet to sit tipsily on the edge of the great round bed. The marijuana was beginning to affect her a little more now, and her muscles felt sluggish. Her feet dangled, almost touching the floor, and through her drugged gaze she could see, in the mirrors above her, her own figure lying below. She could feel the eyes of the countless naked males around her feasting lewdly on the secret parts that had once belonged solely to her husband, parts she had protected just for Tim and which now had become her shame.

"Move back, my dear," she heard Andersson say in a now heavily breathing tone. She peered in the direction of his voice and thought she saw him standing beside some large box that was on stilts. "Go on," he snapped harshly, "move to the center of the bed… Or else!"

Melanie shuddered at the threat of his or else, and crawled to the center as demanded, tears streaming in tiny rivulets as the helplessness of her position tormented her confused and shame-filled mind. She cowered there, her arms trying to cover as much of her as she could, feeling her nakedness as a great humiliating blanket. And now that blanket would be replaced by something more evil: the greedy eyes of strange obscene men who did not know her name nor even cared to know. She would be an openly exposed receptacle in which would be spewed indecent sperm, and she had no other choice, having to submit to the revolting violation of her body to protect her marriage and home. God, would Amos please come to her and get it over with!

Amos Andersson chuckled lewdly as he moved behind the tripod legs of the 16 mm color movie camera and sighted its lens on the naked young wife. It was time now… time to start Phase Three!

"Dinsdale!" he growled to one of the naked men standing nearby. "Take that favorite little plaything of yours and start to work on her."

"Right boss!" A set of flashing white teeth sparkled momentarily. "She looks to be a tender one, for sure!" He scampered across the rug and leaped nakedly onto the bed, kneeling down beside Melanie's thighs. "Hello there," he said casually. "My name is Arnold Dinsdale."

Melanie had been unable to see him because of the blinding glare of the floodlamps, but now her eyes adjusted and she stared in horror at the roughly handsome face of this strange man. His features were sharp and definite, a straight nose, squarish cheekbones, and deep-set dark eyes protected by jet black eyebrows.

"Wh-What are you doing?" she screamed when she belatedly realized what had happened. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not going to hurt you," Dinsdale grinned, pushing her naked body down flat on the bed. "Relax and enjoy it."

As the full impact of what the unknown strange man was saying registered in Melanie's mind, she realized now that she had been bartered away by an incredibly vile degenerate. It wasn't only eyes of other men she was going to have to suffer, it was going to be their obscene penises drubbing into her as well! God! She saw it all now! If she could only run, if there was only someplace she could hide! But there was none, and she still had her price to pay…

Before her thoughts could go any further, she felt a light flicking over the soles of her feet. Something the nude man was holding in one of his hands was grazing torturously over the sensitive bottoms of her feet. She struggled to sit up, but Dinsdale's thick muscular arm held her fast to the bed with his other hand palm-flat against the soft white flesh of her convulsing belly. But she had been able to see enough to know that he was grinning lewdly as he kneeled over her defenseless body, a thick plastic shaft in the hand that was tickling her feet. It was cream colored, about seven inches long and two inches around, and it gave off a buzzing hum like a nest of mosquitoes.

"A dildo," Dinsdale explained as she looked back up at his face with a questioning expression. "Like a man's cock, see, only it's artificial. And this one's a vibrator as well!"

A dildo! Melanie jerked her feet, trying to escape the maddening tickling of the artificial penis' vibrating tickle. It was no use. Dinsdale continued the lascivious massaging slowly up her calves, pausing at the sensitive inner thighs to rotate the blunt head in small titillating circles against her nakedly sensitive flesh. The trapped young wife squirmed, held captive against the bed with Dinsdale's pressuring hand against her belly, inadvertently opening her loins in a crab-like stance that exposed the moist pink slit of her vagina completely to his vibrating touch and the greedy eyes of the naked viewers and the glinting lens of the movie camera.

"That's it!" Andersson yelled encouragingly. "More! More!"

Dinsdale giggled and thrust the tip of the tormenting dildo directly into the involuntarily parted pubic hair, juggling the plastic vibrator lewdly in the plainly visible lips of her tight little cunt.

"Ohhhh," she mewled, jerking wildly in her vain effort to escape the taunting buzzing which was tingling all the way through her body. "D-Don't do that! I… I can't stand it!"

Still the teasing dildo played at the tender flesh of her vagina, working its way up the full length of the wetly palpitating crevice to her tiny throbbing clitoris and flicking it maddeningly until, with a sudden groan, Melanie felt her loins begin a gentle involuntary rising and falling. She could hear along with the other viewers Syble laughing from her settee at the edge of the carpet – the young wife's desperate pleadings causing all of the audience to urge the actor to manipulate the vibrating fake cock faster and faster.

Arnold Dinsdale worked it slowly up over the mound of her genitals and across the flat white plane of her belly, around his still pressing hand that was holding her down and then up the sides of her ribs. She felt the plastic vibrator crawl up over her full ripe breasts and begin to gently caress the nipples, and in spite of her revulsion toward this indecent torture of her flesh, her feeling was slowly changing. Against her will, her proud firm breasts were throbbing into round hardness, and the peaks tweaked up hungrily as the torturing dildo made small delicious circles around the pink-hued aureoles.

As the vibrator began its slow downward journey again, she found to her fascinated horror her body reaching involuntarily upward to absorb its warm caresses. It dwelled long on the whiteness of her belly and in the flexing hollows of her inner thighs, again causing a slow uncontrollable undulation of her rebellious hips and causing her again to draw her thighs back up into a crab-like position. The wide crevice between her firm buttocks was once more splayed open to the leering, lust-crazed eyes of her surrounding watchers and, still unknown to her, to the uncaring eye of the movie camera as well.

Without warning, Dinsdale flicked the blunt tip quickly against the sensitive moist flesh of her cuntal hole, clearly exposing the unwantedly swelling lips between the blonde fringe of her pubic hair. The tight, elastic orifice of her pussy jerked in surprise and tried to screw itself down into the mattress to escape the cruelly delightful probe.

"Aggggggg!" she gasped between clenched teeth. "D-Don't! Please, please don't! You're driving me crazy with that thing!"

A sadistic giggle answered her as she undulated against the teasing dildo in her wetly clasping vagina. She tried to close her thighs against it, but they would not seem to obey her mind's commands. Tears of frustration again brimmed her eyes as she felt the control of her body gradually loosening. She had vowed she would never allow it to betray her no matter how much temptation it might be subjected to; but the sheer hopelessness of her position and the vibrator in the hands of this master debaucher, violating all the sensitive, defenseless parts of her naked body, were forcing her into helpless submission.

"Nooooo! Stop it! Stop it, please! You're killing me!"

"Would you rather be fucked by Dinsdale?" she heard the mocking voice of Amos Andersson call from somewhere in darkness.

"No! No!" she groaned piteously.

"Tell me," the taunting, handsome face of the actor coaxed, sending more forceful, spasmodic throbs through the plastic cock embedded slightly in her rapidly awakening vaginal passage.

"I won't… I can't! Please!" Melanie's resistance ebbed with the exquisitely maddening pleasure being lavished on her helpless naked being. But she couldn't bring herself to suffer this further indignation, knowing that this would be the point of her surrender. The thought of begging a man she had never seen before to drive his hardened penis into her was unbelievingly repugnant to her.

"Just say it," Dinsdale hissed. "Just say it and I stop my machine." To add impetus, he turned the torturing instrument on higher.

"No, no," she moaned, lolling her head as far as she could from side to side in almost unconscious hysteria. "I won't… I can't… Oh, please don't make me, whoever you are!"

"Dinsdale's the name. But you like this, don't you?" He throbbed the fake penis viciously, and began making little strokes in and out of her frantically groveling cunt. "It feels good to you, right?"

"Ohhhhh, yesssss, it doesssss," she hissed through tightly clenched teeth.

"Do you want me to stop, though?"

"I… Yes! Oh, please, stop!"

"Say it, then," Dinsdale commanded as cruelly as Andersson would have done. "Say what you, want!"

"Ohhhhh," the helpless young wife moaned, all resistance fading away as the lewd sensations from his vibrating dildo slowly changed her body to a mass of nerve-tingling excitement. "Give… Give it to me, then! Give it to me!"

"Not like that, my dear!" Andersson yelled at the tormented girl. "Say it with the right words to Dinsdale! Go on, say it!" And then he added the ultimate cruelty as she sobbed in humiliated recollection. "Beg Dinsdale the way you begged me last Wednesday!"

Dinsdale had increased the tingling probings until Melanie had no resistance left. A fiery hot ball of desire had become all-consuming in the pit of her loins. She fought against it with all her strength but the indecent plastic penis pursued and tantalized her wet young cunt relentlessly. The thick, vibrating cock buzzed on, not going any deeper inside her, but firing the moist warm flesh of her vaginal lips until she thought her belly would burst from the tickling pleasure tingling through it.

"Oh God," she heard herself shriek, the sweet agony in her body driving her to a frenzy. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Go fuck me now!"

"Have her ride you!" Amos Andersson directed from behind the camera. "Get down, Dinsdale, and have her ride that cock of yours!"

Melanie groaned from this further indignity. Her heart sunk as she realized that in such a lewd position, it would be she who was mostly on display, with her naked buttocks waving high up in the air off Dinsdale's plundering hardness, rather than him over her with his covering body. She watched as the handsome man beside her threw the dildo to one side and rolled over on the thick furry coverlet, clutching her with steel-hard fingers so that she was roughly pulled to him.

"Do as he says, sweetie," Dinsdale hissed up into her face. "Climb over me and straddle my thighs like the good girl you are!"

Melanie hesitantly complied, knowing that she had reached the point of no return. Her whole body cringing with the horror of what she must do for her survival, she levered up on her arms, her long blonde hair flowing down her face and sweeping the strange man's chest, her breasts swaying sensuously with their erect little nipples almost touching his warm, tanned skin. She kneeled, straddling with her own thighs splayed wide on either side of Dinsdale's lean hips, and could sense his hardened penis pointing directly up at her hotly throbbing vaginal slit. She thought of what was to follow, and tears of shame and submission flowed down the delicate swell of her cheeks, ruining the light make-up Andersson had so carefully applied.

He arched his buttocks up off the bed, and Melanie suddenly quivered in renewed fear as she felt the hugeness of his heatedly thick cock press into the crevice between her upturned thighs. She involuntarily cringed forward, drawing away from the blunt rubbery hardness pressing upwards into her loins, but it relentlessly followed. Her forehead was pressed tightly in the cleft between the man's neck and shoulder, her face downwards against the mattress, and she could feel the pungent smell of Dinsdale's perspiration. She felt his hands close around the tops of her buttocks, gripping them tightly, his fingers pressing downwards in her soft white flesh. He was going to impale her in front of everybody. Oh God, he was going to split her!

"Reach behind you, my dear!" Andersson commanded breathlessly. "Put his cock inside your cunt!"

"Oh, I can't, I can't!" Melanie whimpered.

"Put it in, I tell you," the devilish blackmailer yelled at her, and she felt Dinsdale dig his fingers deeper into her buttocks with his own display of urgency.

"Ohhhh," Melanie groaned as she felt her sensitive flesh being squeezed into painfully tight balls. She couldn't stand it! Trembling in despair, the naked young wife reached back between her legs and wrapped her fingers around the hot, hard shaft of this stranger's penis. She tearfully placed the blunt, pulsing head against the tight elastic opening of her vagina, biting down hard on her lower lips to hold back the tears of humiliation and fright that were brimming her eyes. She felt his long hardness begin a slow probing upwards against her already moistened vaginal lips, forcing its way inside the tight restricting ring of hot flesh that jealously guarded the entrance to her young cunt. There was a great stretching feeling in her loins as though the tender lips of her vagina were being pulled apart, and then suddenly she felt as if they were being ripped as Dinsdale's long thick cock slithered into her hotly cringing pussy like the trunk of a tree. The heavy muscles of his loins crashed hard up against her cruelly splayed inner thighs, pushing her face brutally against the bed.

"Agggg!" she strangled through clenched teeth. Her vaginal walls were on fire, his great penetrating penis feeling like a huge drill tunneling deep up into her belly. Melanie struggled and rotated her buttocks in vain to alleviate the cruel impalement, but Dinsdale had skewered into her up to the hilt, and she was a hopeless prisoner before all the lewd, breathlessly viewing people grouped around the bed.

He began to pump long, even strokings into her, only stopping at the apex where his pulsing hard cock throbbed menacingly against the tender cervix of her womb. Melanie's mouth opened and closed fishlike in torment and sensation as gradually she became accustomed to the massively thick shaft embedded in her tight young vagina. She could feel the rigid, tendon-like corrugations of his cock brushing against her overly sensitive clitoris. A strange masochistic pleasure had begun tippling through her. Even the pain was weirdly enjoyable, and she waved her buttocks skyward, undulating as much as the thick restricting shaft of Dinsdale's cock would allow. The sight she made in the mirrors incited her even more as she raised her head to look around. This was total subjugation, being forced to kneel helplessly around a naked stranger this way, her arms supporting her torso off the stage-like bed, her breasts jiggling crazily underneath from the obscene public fucking she was getting. In the mirror she could see his wetly glistening penis sliding in and out of her clasping pink vagina which was puckering and unpuckering around his long length. God, what a picture it made in her! The lewd portrait of her utter surrender made her squirm down on the heated shaft as if to punish herself some more.

Dear God, Melanie thought through her painful haze of humiliation. What's happening to me? What's happening to me? I can't help it… I can't help it…

She groaned out her shameful submission to the fiery sensations flicking through her unwillingly ravished body. Her toes curled tightly against the softness of the bedspread as she was bucked up and down, fucked like the helpless slave she was by the great, driving cock up inside her warmly quivering cunt. Dinsdale pressed his fingers into the firm flesh of her buttocks and spread their bouncing cheeks farther apart, opening them obscenely and teasing the puckered little hole of her anus with his outstretched middle finger.

"Ahhhhhh," Melanie moaned in drugged delight. She was being treated more like a whore than she had been before, and the strange masochistic pleasure which had gripped her last Wednesday night spiraled through her shamelessly aroused young body once again. She wanted to be completely destroyed by it this time; she wanted to be fucked until she could never walk again! The lewd subjugation of her helpless, kneeling form was driving her wild with lust-inciting sensations!

"Ohhhhh, fuck me! Fuck me good!" she chanted through her contorted lips, sweat dripping from her straining flanks, the rhythm of her buttocks and the skewering of her vagina bringing unmentionable delight to her senses.

Syble Andersson watched this lewd humiliation of the naked young wife with mixed emotions. She felt a slight twinge of pity coursing through her for the helpless innocent girl who was being subjected to such a thing after such a short period of marriage. She could see her lying there on the bed with her legs wide apart probably feeling more naked and ashamed than she had ever felt before in her life. And yet, the sordid scene was exciting her! God, how it was exciting her, and Syble could feel the pit of her belly and thighs hot and moist from the obscene spectacle her husband was so avidly filming to show around the nation. The naked young man next to her, whose name was Jack Armstrong, reached forward and ran his middle finger up the tight crevice of her hotly moistened cunt, parting the soft vaginal hairs and feeling the smooth, pink flesh jerk against his sudden contact. He leaned against Syble's ear and whispered: "Get down on the floor like she is. I'll fuck you from behind so we can watch at the same time. Your husband won't mind."

"He never does," Syble answered excitedly, slipping off the couch and sprawling on all-fours on the dim lit floor. Then she felt the heat of Jack's long hard cock brushing against the wetly pulsing lips of her vagina, and she reached back under her body and guided his rigid shaft between the tender lips of her cuntal slit. Jack pressured forward slowly and with one easy stroke slid his massively erect cock all the way inside her eagerly heaving belly. Amos' naked wife moaned as she felt the cock-head bury as far into her hungry little cunt as it would go. Her mouth dropped loosely open, and she began to squirm back against him in dog fashion as she felt him begin to rotate it deep up inside her. The head of his thick long prick scraped deliciously against the far hidden walls of her womb in a sweet magical rhythm that brought swelling moans from deep in her throat. She kept her passion-glazed eyes tightly glued to Melanie's naked young body still held tight down upon Arnold Dinsdale's pumping cock while she herself urged Jack to fuck into her hard and fast.

Amos Andersson grinned an obscene grin of victory from behind his movie camera. A lewd sucking sound of intercourse was sounding through the darkened room, and the moist slap of belly against belly joined it melodiously. He licked his lips hungrily as he viewed the reddish skin of the young wife's cruelly stretched vagina draw back with the prick of his naked actor friend, clutching at it as if it didn't want it to cone out, and then disappearing inside again with each upward lunge. He unbuttoned his pants and let them fall around his ankles as he watched, fingering his own lust-stiffened penis with one hand, the heat of his excitement rising like a tornado in his loins. Shit, how he'd like to be there on the bed with that hot little blonde himself! Even his wife was joining in! But he couldn't, not and take the pornographic movie as well, and the way things were going, he would make a fortune out of this one! But God, if he was in there on the bed, he'd show them all what fucking should be like!

"Okay, Billy, you next," he said, waving his other hand at a young boy waiting gape-mouthed to one side. "Go in there and have her suck you off. Go on, boy, hurry!"

"Sure, Mr. Andersson! Anything you say! Who is she?"

"Melanie. Mrs. Melanie Cartwright, you little bastard." And he chuckled lewdly as the naked young boy padded quickly out into the bedroom again. One, now Two… and soon there would be Three!

Melanie felt a slight sag of additional weight upon the bed, and felt warm, fresh skin settle down near her face. Her head flailed a moment longer as she fought against the sensual pressure to keep her eyes tightly shut; soon, however, her eyelids parted and opened a tiny slit. Dimly she saw a small masculine form hovering near her mouth, and something else, something short and firm jutting out from it and toward her lips…

A boy! A teenaged boy not more than fifteen years old! He was kneeling there in front of her, holding her facial cheeks between his hands, his immature penis standing in adolescent erection from his hairless loins! Nooo!

"Mrs. Cartwright?" Billy asked. "I'm supposed to have you suck my pecker, Mrs. Cartwright."

God no! She couldn't do that! A man was terrible enough, but to corrupt an innocent child was too much to ask! And yet… A flutter of salaciousness rippled through her skewered belly as her lust-filled eyes filled themselves on the virile young penis waving before her. It was not offensive, only five inches long, its bulbous head a rich glistening crimson that gave its white-skinned shaft the erotic appeal of an enticing delicacy. She was not even repelled. The round firm scrotum was so tight and tender with the look of textured velvet. So hairless, so fresh, so viriley boyish… God, what was she thinking? She couldn't want him too! She couldn't!

"Suck my pecker, Mrs. Cartwright," Billy urgently said in his high-pitched voice. "Please, before Mr. Andersson gets mad at us!"

She resisted for a moment, sickened by the sudden shame of her forbidden desires. Now she was taking on little boys! Where would it end? Her strange random thoughts were cut short as the naked youth rammed his short fleshy cock through her wetly parted lips into the soft warmth of her mouth. She could feel the spongy bluntness of his boyish penis sliding the length of her tongue, lifting momentarily her concentration on the more mature penis ramming up from behind into her wildly rejoicing vagina.

Gloating with youthful pride above her head, Billy began to undulate his slender pelvis, sliding his virile young prick in and out of the young wife's lips, never quite withdrawing, but leaving the hot, swollen tip of half an inch inside the warm, wet cavern of her mouth. Melanie closed her eyes tightly to block out the sordid sight of the teenager's sparse-haired genitals sawing into her tightly ovalled lips. Oh God, there wasn't any use fighting it any longer, not the slightest bit! She would do anything that salacious blackmailing Andersson forced upon her, and learn to love it as he did. And ohhhhh, God, this boy was such a tender, lovely child! Moisture filled her mouth, puffing out her cheeks wide as the youngster shoved forward, burying his slender virile penis deep in her throat, keeping pace with the man-sized cock fucking ceaselessly into her widespread buttocks from behind.

Arnold Dinsdale looked up with lewd delight at the sweat-glistening body of the helplessly trapped woman skewered between his cock in her cunt and the teenager's penis in her mouth.

He timed his thrusts at her contorted face to match those of young Billy, ramming upwards as he did, levering up on his toes and thrusting with all his might to try and meet the smaller prick at the other end of her belly. He held her warmly undulating buttocks tighter when he heard her cough and choke as the boy's fleshy hardness rhythmically brushed her throat on the instroke, watching her tender flushed lips above his face as they clasped tighter with a wild hunger around the youthful invasion of her mouth.

Melanie felt a rising tide of lust beginning deep inside her dilated loins. The very hopelessness of her kneeling position and the depraved ravishment of her naked young body brought strange ripples of obscene fire dancing through her shattered nerves. She licked and sucked the boyish erection imbedded between her lips, her saliva thick from the fresh virile secretions of his lubricating fluid. The taste was indescribable to her, and the whole of her vaginal crevice felt wet and used beyond belief. Tears of unconscious joy trickled from her eyes as she wallowed lewdly in the pleasure of this dual subjugation to the little boy and the lean muscular man fucking her at both ends.

"Now for Part Three!" she dimly heard Andersson yell triumphantly from behind his movie camera. "Now she'll take three at the same time! You – go and fuck her in the ass!"

Melanie jerked her tightly clenched eyes open again at the horrible implications of the movie maker's words. Her shocked gaze locked at the new man, a Negro, who was stepping toward the bed, and she gasped in terror, trying to squeeze her thighs tightly together around Dinsdale's cock, her mouth moaning around the young boy's penis. It couldn't be true! That man would split her open! Horrible visions of her ripped torn body flickered wildly through her cringing mind. Amos couldn't mean it! He couldn't!

But it was too late for her now. A gigantic Negro crawled up on the bed. His huge ebony penis reared out from his black muscular chest like a third leg, for it was at least ten inches long and two inches wide. The crowd of other naked men crowded closer, stepping onto the white, brightly lit rug and toward the bed now to get a closer look at the unbelievable spectacle about to be filmed before their eyes. Helpful hands from the sides of the large round bed grasped harshly at Melanie's frantically quivering legs, pulling them brutally apart so that her tightly puckered little anus was in full view of them and the camera. Others strained closer around the bedside to get their look at the pulsating treasure between the struggling young wife's buttocks. One overanxious hand reached out to pinch quickly at a full white breast, digging harshly at the dancing mound for a moment before disappearing anonymously back into the crowd.

The giant black man climbed between her widespread legs and found a position so he could move without disturbing his white friend fucking upwards into her wet young cunt from below. Melanie's face contorted in anguish around Billy's virile cock, every muscle in her body tensed against the inhuman invasion she knew was sure to come. The full plane of her defenseless backsides was presented up to the kneeling Negro in helpless sacrifice. It was his, to plunder at will.

He grinned down at it, his lips bared back over the white ivory of his teeth in unbridled lust. "I is Balshazar, and I is going to fuck yo' in de ass, little white girl!"

He stroked his immense black penis with both his hands in greedy preparation for the assault on the cringingly upturned buttocks swaying in front of him. His body swayed on his knees like a stalking cobra, the glistening ebony skin shining in the arc lights that surrounded the motion picture set. He shuffled forward slowly, his pelvis and great bulging black cock shoved out and quivering like a savage limbo dancer caught in the hypnotic throes of a primeval jungle dance.

Her fully bared buttocks quivered uncontrollably as they tried to escape that monstrous black penis that was going to rip her rectum apart. The lust-incited crowd around the bed gasped as the great bulging head found the tightly clenched anal opening and jostled for position against the pink rosette of flesh, insinuating the merest fraction of its tip inside her anal hole. Then with a flick of his hips, the grinning Negro forced the blood-filled cock-head brutally into the pulsing muscle of her hairless little anus, stretching her resisting rubbery flesh almost to the bursting point.

"Mmmmmmmmaaaaawwww!" Melanie moaned out wildly around the young boy's still driving penis in her mouth. "Mmmmmmaaaggggg!"

It sunk another cruel inch, the struggling young wife trying desperately to kick her legs free of both it and Dinsdale's cock to escape the punishing impalement. The eager hands held them tightly to the mattress, though, and Balshazar levered his hips and flicked again. His grin widened as his relentless black cock slid in Melanie's white backsides another excruciating inch.

"Mmmmuuunnnngggg!"

Another inch…

"Mmmmaaaaaagggggghhhhh!"

Her sobbing, struggling protests and resistance only brought a sudden crushing thrust from the naked black man that plowed his giant ebony cock deeper into her tightly resisting anus, pushing great waves of rectal flesh in soft rolling waves before it. Melanie jerked convulsively forward, only to ram more of young Billy's penis into her mouth as Balshazar's hardness raced all the way up inside her belly like a runaway freight train. It was an uncontrolled monster crawling around inside her, filling her every crevice and pushing her internal organs into tiny balls of agony that could not breath or move. It was coming all the way up out her throat, shoving the smaller youthful penis out of her mouth, ripping her soul from her body and devouring it in great thrusts of depraved sensuality.

The Negro did not even wait a moment to allow the helplessly impaled young girl beneath him time to adjust to his huge pulsating member buried deep up in her soft white belly. He began a painfully quick fucking motion in and out of Melanie's impossibly stretched anus, thrusting forward mercilessly from the apex of his withdrawal and battering her pain-wracked rectum hard against his savage loins. Dinsdale's penis embedded in her cunt joined the slowly pistoning cock in a rhythmic fucking duo, and then Billy caught the same pumping tempo with his virile hardness sliding between her lips, and soon all three of them began to buffet her between them like a sack of resilient foam rubber.

At first the only thing that Melanie could manage to do was utter long continuous whines that went on and on as they smacked into her defenselessly naked body with harder and faster force. But slowly and inexorably the pain was easing, and in its place a weird sensation of happiness tingled through her naked writhing flesh. The outrageous defilement and subjugation brought strange pleasures flooding through her blood stream, and her hips began to unconsciously gyrate in an abandoned rhythm with the increasing speed of the trio of cocks fucking into her.

A thousand helpful hands groped at her from the leering faces around the bed. The pain receded more and more, and her whine of agony began to change to low whimpers of passionate pleading. She began to want this to hurt her, to want to be torn in half in front of everybody to want to be ripped into a thousand pieces by the boy in front of her, the man on the bottom and the Negro fucking her in the ass. They were filling her mouth, her cunt, her raw pink rectum with their merciless cocks, and she wanted nothing more than to be brutally punished for being the dirty whoring bitch she knew she had become. She wanted every entrance of her naked body to be savagely raped until they all shot off their hot white loads of cum inside her, and that was all there was in her mindless world to wish for now. She was lost, lost! She could never be the same again after this, and she no longer gave one Goddamn.

"Ohhhh yes, yes fuck me all you bastards!" she crooned around the boyish cock ramming between her teeth. She squirmed her body around lewdly among the myriad of hands and fingers that were crawling over her tingling flesh. She opened her eyes and cocks were everywhere. The men around the bed had crawled up on the mattress with them now, and were stroking their hardened penises over her in time to the black and white pricks smacking into her. Long ones, short ones, fat ones… she was a prisoner in a great cock heaven, and all the time while three battering erections were fucking into her, trapping her between them like an insect stuck to a mounting board.

She grunted into the thick stale air of the cellar room, gyrating her nakedly upturned buttocks faster and faster as she tried to keep up with the monstrous poles of flesh drubbing into her like tireless fucking machines. She felt long fleshy objects dropped into her clenching hands on either side of the mattress, and other hands press her fingers tightly around them. She knew they were cocks and began a hard vicious stroking in time to the communal rhythm, as she felt the shafts of male hardness pummeling into her throbbing body openings.

Syble Andersson slid forward desperately, dislodging Jack Armstrong's still driving penis in her cunt, and turning back to the man, she hissed: "I've got to have it the way she is! Quick! Put it in my ass!"

Jack placed his cock against her pulsing anal opened and thrust forward with all his strength. "Aggggggg!" Syble groaned, fighting to keep the sudden tears of pain from flowing from her eyes. She hadn't known it would hurt as much as this! But she didn't have time to further object as the man behind her plunged forward greedily and fucked her in the rectum herd and fast, until gradually the pain eased away, and it didn't hurt Amos Andersson's wife any longer. And just as they heard the first howling signs that the foursome on the bed were cumming, Jack ejaculated deeply up inside her anal channel, pumping his hot white sperm far up into her belly. Syble's own fantastic orgasm spiraled up until she thought she would go completely out of her mind, and then the two of them collapsed in a spent and satiated heap beside the flood-lit carpet leading to the great round bed. As they rolled apart, Syble caught the full depraving sight of all three males and the naked bucking wife between them reach their final crest of climax…

"Mannnnnn, I'm there!" Billy squeaked in his immature voice. He locked his hands around the back of Mrs. Cartwright's bobbing head and drew her soft warm mouth deep down upon his rigid young cock. Lying between his slender loins, all that Arnold Dinsdale could see of the boyish prick was a small bit at the base which protruded wet and gleaming from the blonde woman's wildly sucking lips. He watched in delighted awe as her throat contracted and filled as she swallowed deliriously all of the young fresh sperm pulsating into her mouth. God, Dinsdale thought, a grown man could not have more cum than was in the balls of that boy, and then he, too, felt himself explode…

He clenched his eyes shut as his wildly jerking cock gushed inside her tightly clenching cunt, feeling his testicles erupt with thick white semen. His hot seed spurted like water through a firehose far up into Melanie's hungrily milking vagina. She whimpered as she felt it splash the eager walls of her cunt, and tried to jerk herself downward to suck more of it from the head of his spewing shaft.

Balshazar's eyes rolled around in his head and his great balls began to surge his own streaming semen deep into her constricting belly. Melanie ground her buttocks back upwards tightly against his pelvis to staunch the flow for a moment until she reached her peak, but her very eagerness only incited him more. The nibbling clasp of her anal muscles squeezed his mammoth penis clean, the last drop of his molten load spasming out deep up inside her rectum.

Melanie's hips jerked as she felt the tidal waves of cum inside her, and her own orgasm hit her like a fist in the stomach. Searing joy coursed through her fantastically aroused body with the power of a thousand lightning bolts, curling the tips of her toes and fingers like burning twigs on a bonfire. Her hands were flooded too with the hot sticky liquid of spitting cocks, and great pools of cum clung in rivulets to her naked white skin as she saw other cocks spurting at her naked body from all sides. She wallowed lewdly in it, punishing and debasing herself in maniacal excitement, the odor rushing through her nostrils as her own climactic fluids gushed hotly from between her legs and trickled down around Arnold Dinsdale's deflating cock to the bed below.

The three spent males fell useless and drained from her still squirming form, and then she was rolled over on her back, other naked bodies taking their places, spurred on by her screaming supplications for further humiliation. Her hair was matted thickly with the pungent creamy semen, and her young body was covered with its whiteness from head to foot. She squirmed wetly on her back in it as she was buffeted up and down on the mattress by one rampaging man after another. It seemed she would never get enough…

Amos Andersson grinned lewdly to himself. What a film! He couldn't stop the camera now, not while that blonde haired bitch was screaming to get fucked to death. This would be a color epic to end all pornographic films! Jesus, what could he call it? What could be a title strong enough to match the action? He thought for a moment, his eyes still lustily glued to the non-stop fucking on the bed. At last it came to him. He'd call this film GANG-BANG UNLIMITED. Yeah, that was perfect! GANG-BANG UNLIMITED!

"Oh God," Melanie groaned as they battered her back and forth like a rag doll between them, using her helpless body as a great pool into which to pump their burning sperm. How many men could she take? As many as could climb on her, she supposed. She was no longer human but a great mass of sensitive flesh, unable to think but only to feel. Time became meaningless to her, a merging of a countless number of strange and different long hard cocks, fucking her as they would and where they could. Melanie was beyond caring, though her body reacted with orgasm after orgasm until her strength was gone, and she could only follow mechanically.

"Get those legs up!" she'd hear Andersson yelling hoarsely at her from miles away. "Move that ass! Suck harder!"

She was nothing now but a flesh robot at his command, and weakly moved her limbs to comply with his shouts as best she could. Many long hours later she lay spread-eagled on the wet and soiled mattress that would be forever her bed of shame. The Andersson voice was still speaking in the distance as she faded to deep peaceful unconsciousness.

"Take a turn on her, somebody. She's not dead yet. I need some film with some imagination! See what all of you can do!"

CHAPTER SEVEN

Carlyle came over to where Tim Cartwright was sitting at a desk. Carlyle was a fat, balding man in his mid fifties, and was chewing on the stub of an unlit cigar as usual. He was Tim's immediate superior as long as Tim was at the New York head office, so Tim immediately put his pen down and looked up with an eager expression on his face.

"Yes, Sir?"

"How's it going, boy?"

"Fine. I'll have these figures out by tonight."

"Good, good." Carlyle spread his suit jacket open and thrust his thumbs into the armholes of his plaid vest. "You're doing a fine job for a trainee, Tim. A damned fine job."

"Thank you, Sir."

"You'll go far with Flynn, I don't mind predicting. But you'll have to learn more about entertaining customers, first."

"I… will?"

"Sure. That's half the job, showing the right guys a good time. Why, you've been cooped up in that musty hotel room of yours for weeks like you were a monk or something. Hell, you're in New York, and that's the finest city in the world for action."

"I know, Sir, but there's all the work. And my wife…"

"Hang your wife, Tim, and pardon my bluntness. I'm sure she's a darling sweet kid from all you've told me about her. But you're here and she's there, and the one don't have to know about the other."

"But…"

"No buts. Tonight you're coming to a little party of mine. You'll be assistant host, and I'll expect you to be on your toes. We're getting some girls to come up – expense account quiff for the fellows from Rudiger's Plumbing and Heating, because that's the kind of thing they call a good time, you see. Gotta look out for what your customers like as well as need, you know, boy. But there'll be one for you, too, don't worry. A tight-assed little redhead named Delores. You'll like Delores; she meets all the boats."

"I don't really think…"

"Oh, and you'll be in charge of the projector."

"The… projector, Sir?"

"Right. We've gotten in a real hot movie from the Coast. Had it smuggled in special for the home office library. Cost a mint, but it should be worth it. I understand this is the wildest fuck flick to come along since Edison photographed his wife in the bathtub."

Tim Cartwright swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling parched as though blocked with sand. Girls… and a sex movie! He felt a stirring in his loins that he hadn't felt since he'd left Melanie back in California weeks ago. "That does sound good at that!"

"Seven o'clock at my place. See you be there on time… Oh, and pick up the canister of film from Baynard on your way out tonight, will you?"

"Sure. What's its title?"

"GANG-BANG UNLIMITED! Yeah, that's it. GANG-BANG UNLIMITED. Has one girl and a cast of thousands. Haw hew haw!" Carlyle walked away, still chewing expansively on his dead cigar.

Tim picked up his pen again, his mind a turmoil. Christ, GANG-BANG UNLIMITED! He could hardly wait to see what the girl in it was like!

Content

Susan Carter
A helpful wife

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN