Grant Roberts

The wayward wifes

Chapter 1

Patty Jennings studied her lush nude body, beaded with droplets of water from her recent shower, in the full-length mirror attached to the back of the bathroom door. She was tall, almost five-ten, perfectly proportioned from the top of her rich, natural reddish-gold hair to the tips of her small, Cinderella-like feet. Her breasts were full and firm and large, but without the perpetual sag of most heavily endowed women; they were beautifully rounded, marbled beneath their almost translucent whiteness with tiny bluish veins, standing out high and proud from her symmetrical chest, and the large pinkish brown nipples, distended from the hot, recent lashing of the shower spray, rose from their darker areola like blossoming buds on some exquisite spring flower. Patty stretched her arms luxuriously high over her head, posing wantonly, sultrily in the bathroom's privacy, the way her young husband Larry had always enjoyed her doing for him.

She held the pose for a moment, letting her eyes move slowly downward over her smooth, pure white stomach, seeing the sculpted navel peeking out from within its circular recess. Her pubic hair, the same reddish-gold color as her tresses, glistening with moisture, formed a perfect triangle which covered her somewhat prominent abdomen and pointed downward, invitingly, to the soft, pink lips of her vaginal furrow, ending just above the shyly nestling bud of her clitoris. She saw and was pleased by the way her slim, alabaster waist swelled into softly rounded, classical hips that curved in turn into lovely tapered, milk-white thighs. Her buttocks, she saw as she pirouetted slightly, were large and just as flawlessly formed as her pliant, peaked tits; she noticed that they hollowed and dimpled provocatively, the muscles rippling beneath the naked skin like the gentle current of a mountain stream.

Patty continued to study herself for a moment longer, critically, deciding that her figure was just a little too lush. If she had had her choice in the matter, she would have preferred her breasts to be just a little smaller, her fanny just a little less rounded, her bushy pubic mound not quite so bushy. But Larry had told her that he preferred full-blown women, that he wouldn't have her any other way, and she reversed her decision, concluding that she was really quite happy with her body as long as Larry was happy with it. After all, a woman was made to please her man, and she had pleased Larry during the two halcyon months they had had together before his Marine unit was shipped to Viet Nam fourteen weeks ago, he had told her that enough times after they had finished making love.

Patty selected one of the fluffy jacquard towels from the chrome rack and began to dry herself, moving the soft shaggy towel briskly over her albescent skin, watching in the mirror as her firm young breasts jiggled and bounced from the quick toweling, the nipples seeming to grow even harder, as if in arousal. She began to dry her pubic area, fluffing the reddish-gold hair, making the triangle look curly-soft, like the hair of a young girl child after a shampooing. She dipped the towel between her legs, spreading her thighs apart slightly to allow it passage, moving the woolly material along her open cuntal slit, along the well-divided, softly seductive edges, bringing it back upward again to pass over her clitoris. Surprisingly, she felt a sudden flash of desire at the electric contact of garment and sensitive passion flesh, and the miniature phallus rose into instant erection. Patty could see it, seeming to quiver in the cradle between her legs, peeping excitedly through the sparse adornment of hair, and she swallowed as another wave of arousal seized hold of her body. She began to tremble slightly, and in her mind she could visualize Larry's large, blood-fired penis, the way it looked as it stood stiffly out from his hirsute belly, the way it felt as it stabbed into her passionate, love-drenched vaginal passage, bringing her to unknown heights of sheer ecstasy, spewing great quantities of her loved one's hot, sticky seed deep into her cavernous pussy as they both climaxed together.

God! Patty thought, taking the towel away from her private parts and putting it back again on the chrome rack. I can't keep thinking about Larry like that, it's not doing me any good for heaven's sake.. but it's been fourteen weeks since I've felt him inside me, since I've been loved, since I've had release fourteen weeks is such a terribly long time to be without a man once you've experienced the joys of sexual lovemaking.

She sighed, a little tremulously, and took her frilly pink nightie from the clothes hamper; it was very short, ending just below her pubic triangle, and the rustling material was not quite transparent, hiding everything and yet hiding nothing. Larry had gone absolutely wild when he'd seen her wearing it for the first time, during their honeymoon in Carmel, and he'd almost torn it from her body in his haste to make her naked and fulfill the desire it had built inside him. She probably shouldn't wear it now, especially here in the home of Larry's father and mother, but she had given all her other nighties and pajamas to the Goodwill when they'd gotten married and had never bothered to buy another one.

She put the nightie on, smoothing it down, and the cool nylon felt pleasing against her briskly rubbed skin. As she opened the bathroom door and started down the short hallway toward her room, she thought of Larry’s parents. His mother, Gladys, had insisted that she stay with them while Larry was overseas; there wasn’t any use, she had said, of Patty trying to fend for herself-buying groceries, paying rent and utilities – - when she could live with them for free; that way, Patty could save almost all of her salary from her stenographic position with one of San Francisco’s larger insurance companies as a nest egg for when Larry returned from his tour of duty. Larry had thought this was a fine idea, and Patty had agreed – - although she had felt it was encroaching on her in-laws, that she was still something of an outsider.

But the fourteen weeks she had been staying with the Jennings bad been pleasant and happy ones. Gladys was like her own mother – - who had died when Patty was twelve – - in that she was kind, genial, easy to talk to. A plump, matronly woman, she had made Patty feel as if she was her own daughter, mothering her, watching out for her.

Larry’s father, Tom, was something of a different story. It wasn’t that Patty disliked him exactly; it was just that be made her feel uneasy at times. A large, bearish sort of man, Tom Jennings was given to moments of surliness, of caustic and not particularly funny humor. And the way he would look at her occasionally, with his hot, intense gray eyes.. well, it was almost as if he were undressing her, as if he was harboring a kind of secret and full-bloated lust for his own son’s young wife…

Patty shook her head as she entered her own room, Larry’s room actually, telling herself that she was being silly. Tom was just a moody individual, that was all, and he could be a lot of fun when he wanted to. And he was Larry’s father, for goodness sake. Still, she felt a faint uneasiness as she sat down before the circular mirror on the vanity she had bought and began to brush her long flaming hair, Gladys had gone to stay with her sister in Los Angeles that morning, owing to the fact that the sister had contracted some sort of crippling malady which left her unable to care for her family, and Patty was now alone for at least a week, and probably longer, in the house with Tom Jennings.

As she brushed her hair with long, rhythmic strokes, counting silently to herself, Patty remembered the way Tom had looked at her over their almost silent dinner that evening. That lustful look had been in his eyes, making her feel uncomfortable and strangely vulnerable, and he had not spoken at all to her – - almost as if he didn’t trust himself to speak. Finally, she had excused herself and gone into the living room to read the evening paper, feeling an embarrassed flush color her cheeks the same bright hue as her hair. He had come in there, too, sitting down opposite her, staring at her over the top of his magazine, until she had defensively decided to walk down to the corner newsstand to pick up a pocketbook to read. When she had returned, Tom had been watching television and had ignored her, seeming to be lost in another of his sulky moods. She had read several chapters of the book she’d bought, sitting on the patio in the mild spring evening, and the familiar, peaceful, comforting sounds of crickets and the barking of a neighbor’s dog had dispelled all of her foolish fears. She had forgotten all about Tom when she had finally gone in to shower and prepare for bed, forgotten that is until this very moment.

There was a soft knock on the bedroom door. Patty started, and in the mirror she could see the door open and Tom Jennings step into the room. He was smiling and carrying a glass of milk in his right hand; the smile seemed somehow odd to Patty, and his eyes were intensely bright as he moved toward her across the carpeted bedroom.

“I brought you a glass of milk,” he said, coming up behind her and leaning close to her as he put the glass down on the vanity.

Patty moistened her lips nervously. “Oh… thank you, Mr. Jennings. That’s… very nice of you.”

“Not at all.” His eyes moved slowly over her, looking into the mirror at her barely concealed breasts, as if he could see through the thin material of her nightie. His eyes dipped lower, looking at the creamy whiteness of her thighs, at the faint hint of her loins where the garment ended even though her legs were pressed tightly together. His smile seemed to widen as he saw her discomfort, and he reached out and touched her bare shoulder, lightly, with the tips of his fingers. Patty jumped involuntarily, the contact of his fingers on her bare flesh somehow hot, somehow repulsive. She shivered.

Jennings laughed silently, and moved away from her to sit on the bed with his legs apart, a lewd position, as if he were exposing his privates to her.

Patty looked sideways at him, quickly, at the way his thin polo shirt stretched taut over his massive chest at the protrusion of his flabby middle, at the way his trousers bunched in his crotch, outlining his penis and testicles against the thin material… She flushed and turned her gaze back to the mirror, continuing to brush her hair, wishing he would leave, feeling once again uneasy – and faintly frightened.

He said at length, “That’s a pretty sexy piece of nightwear you’ve got on there, Patty.”

She didn’t answer. Her throat was suddenly dry.

“I’ll bet Larry really liked it, didn’t he?” Jennings said, and there was no mistaking the vulgarness of his meaning.

Again, Patty said nothing.

“Yes sir,” Jennings said, “I’ll bet my son really got himself all heated up looking at you in that flimsy little nightie.”

Patty took a long breath and exhaled it slowly. “Mr. Jennings, if you don’t mind…”

“Tell me something, honey,” he interrupted.

“What?”

“How is Larry in bed?”

She gasped slightly. “What kind of question is that? I don’t…”

“I’ll bet he’s good. I’ll bet he’s almost as good as his old man. A chip off the old block, so to speak.”

Patty was trembling in earnest now, completely frightened by her father-in-law’s words, his presence and his manner. Go away, she thought fervently. Please go away and leave me alone. I don’t want to hear any more of this kind of talk.

Jennings said, “You must be feeling a little horny now, eh, Patty? I mean, it’s been more than three months since Larry left for Viet Nam, and any warm-blooded woman who’s gone without it for that long a time must be getting hot pants. And you’re a warn-blooded woman, Patty girl, I can tell. Oh yes, old Tom can tell about things like that, old Tom used to be quite a cocksman in his day.

“Stop it!“ she flared suddenly, turning toward him on the vanity seat. “What’s the matter with you? Why are you talking… dirty to me?”

“Talking dirty?” he said with elaborate innocence. “Why, I don’t know what you mean.

“Yes you do!”

He laughed, his eyes staring at her belly, staring at the bottom of her nightie… She realized that she was facing toward him, that he could almost see beneath the nightie at her naked womanhood, and she grew a brilliant crimson and turned away from him again quickly. “Mr. Jennings,” she said, “will you please leave now? I’d like to go to bed.”

“What’s the matter, honey? Don’t you like old Tom?”

“Right at this moment, no…!” she shot back.

“Tell the truth, now,” he said. “You are getting a little horny, aren’t you?”

“No! Now will you – “

Sure you are. I can always tell. It’s the way a woman walks. She walks different when she hasn’t had any loving for a while, when she hasn’t had a nice big cock to satisfy her…”

“Please, Mr. Jennings, stop talking like that!”

“… when she hasn’t had a good, hot wild fuck in a long…”

“Stop it! Stop it!”

“… time and she’s ready for it, ready to be fucked, ready to have a big hot cock shoved up her cunt, a big hot cock like I’ve got, honey girl…”

Patty jumped to her feet, her face livid, her eyes blazing with anger and with fear. “You’re… you’re crazy!“ she shouted at him. “You’re crazy and you’re sick to talk to me like that, your own son’s wife!”

“Oh come on now,” he said, and a thin line of spittle flecked the corners of his thick mouth. “Where do you get that off acting so goddamn righteous? I see the way you parade around here, wearing things like that nightie, wiggling that young hot ass of yours, shaking those big tits. You’re just asking for it, and you know goddamned well you are.”

“No! You really must be sick!“ “Not me,” Jennings said, his eyes travelling ceaselessly, hotly over her. “I’m just a normal man with a cold fish for a wife, a normal man who gets a big hard-on looking at a choice piece of ass like you, son’s wife or not. And what I see when I look at you is a come-on, honey girl!, a big neon sign saying ‘I want to be fucked, I want to be fucked.’ You want cock, baby, you know that and I know it, if you don’t care whose cock, then neither do I. It’s better if we keep it in the family, anyway, don’t you think?”

“You… you animal!”

Jennings stood up suddenly, his eyes narrowing, his big hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Don’t you call me that!” he snarled. “Don’t you ever call me that!“

Patty took a recoiling step backward, staring at him with increasing tenor, seeing the unmistakable bulge which was in evidence along the left leg of his trousers, the faint wet spot which stained the material at the bottom of the bulge. He advanced toward her, licking his lips continuously now, and then he began to talk to her in a low, lusting voice. “Gladys calls me an animal, my own wife, every time I want to fuck her. She called me that on our goddamned wedding night, and she’s been calling me that for twenty-five years. I’ve put up with it for that long because of Larry and because of appearances involving my job. But I don’t have to and I’m not going to put up with it from you, you prick-teasing little bitch!”

“Get… get away from me!”

“The hell I will!” he snapped, backing her against the far wall. His breath was hot and fetid in her face, making her cringe, making a small mewling sound escape her throat. “I haven’t been laid in five months now, two longer than it’s been for you, and I want my nuts cracked. I’ve got a load built up inside me that needs to be let loose, right now, and you, honey girl, are going to let it loose for me inside that hot little belly of yours!”

“No, no, no, no!”

“Oh yes, baby, oh yes. I’ve had enough of your prick-teasing and now I’m going to sample what you’ve been putting on display. And you’re going to cooperate, understand, or I’ll beat the living shit out of you!”

“I’ll… I’ll scream if you touch me!”

“You do and I’ll break your fucking neck!” Jennings spat into her face. “You’ll cooperate bitch! You’ll give me a ride like you give Larry, like you give my son!”

Patty leaned against the cold wall of the bedroom, twisting her head away from the lewdly contorted face which loomed above her. She felt strangely detached, disembodied, as if she was dreaming all of this, as if she could simply shake her head and wake up and find that everything which had happened in these past few minutes had been a terrible nightmare. This just can’t be happening, it just can’t! Her tortured mind screamed. My own father-in-law, my husband’s father, a man I trusted, the husband of a woman who has been like a mother to me… oh God, oh God, such perverted filth can’t be real.

Suddenly, Jennings’ hands shot out, gripping her shoulders with cruel force. He crushed her to him, his lips seeking hers, his hands snaking around behind her as he ground his pelvis against her stomach. She could feel the hard bulge of his rising penis pressed against her abdomen, the lewd ugly feel of his great weapon, and she began to struggle violently, throwing her head from side to side in a vain attempt to escape his questing lips, twisting her body in his squidlike embrace. And then his mouth founds hers and he thrust his long, snaking tongue deep inside, moving it around hers, tasting the roof of her mouth. She tried to clamp down with her teeth over the wet, probing member, but the pressure of his bulbous lips was enough to keep her mouth wedged open. Patty emitted low, agonized sounds as his hands crawled under the bottom of her nightie to cup the soft, resilient mounds of her globular asscheeks, fingers pinching the tender flesh mercilessly. He pulled his tongue from her mouth then, letting it flick across her lips, across her chin and then upward along the smoothness of her face, a hot, foul fire-brand on her sensitive flesh that made her cringe with hate and humiliation.

“Oh, honey girl,” he crooned deep in his chest, “you got the nicest ass I’ve ever felt, so soft, so soft and nice… oh, honey girl, honey girl.

Her brain was whirling, trying desperately to find an avenue of escape from his clutching hands. If she could knee him, crush his scrotum flat with her up-pistoning leg… but no, he was holding her too tightly, she could scarcely even breathe in his vise grip. There was nothing she could do, nothing…

Jennings in that instant gathered his son’s wife into his arms grinding her against his chest, carrying her toward the bed. She wanted to scream, but his threat of moments earlier stilt lingered in her mind; she knew instinctively that he would carry it out, that he would beat her without mercy if she didn’t obey him, and she choked off the cry before it found voice. Jennings threw her down on the bed, breathing hard, staring down at her with his hot, hungry, carnal gaze. Then he reached toward her, and she tried to hunch back, but the headboard prevented her from moving more than a scant few inches, and his curled fingers found the neck of her thin nightie and ripped it with animalistic fury from her body.

Patty heard him suck in his breath, saw the thin line of drool which appeared on one side of his mouth and began to dribble down his chin, as he looked for the first time upon her naked, voluptuous flesh. “Jesus Christ!” Jennings muttered. “Look at those tits! I’ve never seen tits like that on any woman, ever! And your cunt, oh Jesus what a fine juicy young cunt you’ve got, honey girl.”

Patty closed her eyes, trapped, nowhere to go, frightened, helpless, with nothing to do except submit to this… beast who stood slobbering above her. Shame and degradation, utter loathing, ran rampant through her body and even though it was a pathetically futile gesture, she dropped her hands to partially cover her reddish-gold pubic fleece, her soft pink vagina, from his sickly perverted sight. She heard him grunting, the whisper of a zipper… a sound she knew all too well – and some hidden perversity inside her made her open her eyes to look up at him again. He was just struggling out of his trousers, just pulling his white underpants down over his large hairy legs. Then he straightened, leering at her, and she moaned in helpless fright as she saw his huge, throbbing cock standing granite-hard, curving slightly at the tip, from his paunch belly. She had never seen anything so… so ghastly, so horrifying in her life as Tom Jennings’ bloated penis with its pulsating bluish-purple veins surging toward the blood-filled head, tipped with the milky moistness of his escaping seminal fluid. She prayed silently, anguishedly, for blessed unconsciousness to free her from this terrible sight, from the ravagement of her sweet young flesh which would surely take place any moment now. But there was no blackness to take her away from the horror of the moment, no respite at all, and the fear grew within her by leaps and bounds.

Jennings grinned lewdly as he saw the growing terror in her eyes; oh God, she was going to be a fuck and a half, she was going to be the best fuck he had ever had, he was going to show her that a father can be a better man than his son…! He dropped his weight onto the bed, his mouth hanging lax now and his eyes feasting on her alabaster flesh. He reached out one hand and tore her concealing fingers from her pubic area, exposing her lovely young pussy once again to his salacious vision. He put his hands on her knees and moved them slowly upward, and when they reached her thighs he dipped the tips of his fingers between the tightly pressed limbs, trying to draw them apart in order to see all of her cuntal furrow. Patty resisted, locking her legs closed with a cording of her muscles, and Jennings cried out in rage, His fingers gouged into her sensitive flesh, ripped her thighs apart cruelly, viciously, leaving ugly bruise marks on her soft inner thighs which would turn black and blue in just a matter of moments.

“Aaaaaghhhhh!“ Patty screamed in sudden pain as her legs were wrenched open, spread wide and held there by his steellike grip.

“Goddamn you, you teasing little bitch, keep those legs open!” Jennings panted. "Keep ‘em open, or I’ll tie ‘em open and beat you shitless besides!“

He released her then, tentatively watching to see what she would do. Patty wanted to close her thighs again, hide her femininity from this foul creature who was her husband’s father, but his threat and the futility, the terrible and irrevocable futility of the situation, caused her to leave them spread obscenely wide. She closed her eyes again, leaning her head back against the headboard, waiting, praying that it would be over soon.

Jennings stared at the soft, blood-swollen lips of young daughter-in-law’s open vagina and the drool fell from his mouth in a wider stream. Holy Christ, but she had some beautiful cunt! Gladys’ pussy was a dried-up, useless prune in comparison! He stared, fascinated, by the involuntarily wet furrow glistening before his eyes, at the fear-trembling clitoris, flaccid in its reddish covering of flesh. He reached out an almost reverent finger to touch the fluted edges of the sweet young pussy before him, and the power he felt when Patty tried to shrink back away from his touch, tried to contract her cunt lips to escape his probing middle finger, was rapturously enormous. He touched the moist pink phallus, playing with it, reveling in the soft mewling cries which Patty sobbed forth. Then he dipped his finger lower, tracing it along the sensitive flesh of her slit, posing it at the opening of her vaginal orifice, poising it there and then thrusting it savagely deep inside the moist, butter-soft passage.

"Aaaaahhhhhhhhh!” Patty screamed in agony.

He wiggled his finger around inside, glorying in the soft wetness flowing around it and the way the hole contracted convulsively, closing around the worming digit. He drew it out part way and then thrust it forward again, hearing Patty cry out another time, her hands gripping the chenille bedspread more in humiliation than pain on either side of her. He brought it out, shoved it home… again and again. His cock throbbed and leapt, emitting more seminal fluid as his arousal built higher and higher, and his balls were like great heavy weights, aching and tender below the pulsing shaft. He stared down at the wet, tender cuntal flesh he was ravaging with his finger, spread open like a virginal sacrifice before his feasting eyes, seeming to beckon to him.

He had to have her!

He had to fuck her… right now!

Patty felt Tom Jennings throw himself full length beside her, felt his finger pull from her emit with a wet sucking sound. And then he was crawling on top of her, and she could feel the heavy, sweat-moistened weight of him… like a slippery, sickening snail covering her soft body… and he rose up slightly, taking his bloated cock with his right hand and aiming it toward the helplessly quivering opening of her cunt.

“I’m… going to fuck you now, honey girl!“ he panted evilly down into her face. “I’m going to shove my cock right up into your tight little belly and fuck the living hell out of you!”

Patty moaned and writhed on the bed, tensing her body… and suddenly he thrust downward with his pelvis, sliding his huge, throbbing cock into the moist opening hidden beneath the soft hair-lined lips of her pussy. Patty felt a tremendous surge of excruciating pain and her legs splayed out wildly as she helplessly accepted the full, white-hot length of his immense cock, felt it tearing her soft yielding passage asunder as he flexed his fleshy hips to drive the terrible cudgel deep, deep, deep up into her quivering vaginal flesh.

“Aaaaagggggghhhhhhh!” she cried. “Ooooooohhhhhhhhh!”

She felt his hands move down under her, cupping her buttocks, lifting them, squeezing them, and then sliding to the spot where his gigantic cock was pistoning into her. The fingers brushed against the tightly clinging ridges of flesh on either side of her young elastic-like slit and she gasped and jerked her hips sharply, reflexively up against his. He battered brutally into her, burying his hardened pole of cockflesh to the hilt in her quivering vagina, Patty groaned piteously, trying futily to evade the lust-maddened rapist who thrust into her, impaling her on his merciless instrument of torture. His face was pressed between her large, swollen breasts, tracing hot moist kisses there, racing his lips up over one of the globes to suck the involuntarily hardened nipples deep into his mouth, biting it without regard for anything but his own crazed passion. Patty cried out in agonized pain as he nipped the bud between his sharp teeth, rolled his tongue over the tiny sensitive berry, as he flexed and reflexed his pelvis to send his monstrous fire-hot cock far up into her trembling belly.

Patty writhed and bucked beneath his ravagement in a vain attempt to throw him off as a wild stallion would attempt to throw off a rider, but her movements only drove him on to wilder frenzy, to more frantic lickings of her tits, to more savage thrusts into her now-inflamed cunt. He was gasping and panting with sadistic delight, and his thick hot saliva flowed down over her breasts, between their bodies so that his madly pounding torso against hers made wet, slippery, sucking sounds of flesh smacking against flesh in the confines of the silent bedroom.

“Oh Jesus, oh Jesus, you’re a wild fuck, honey girl… you’re a wild fuck, wild fuck.

I’m going to cum pretty soon, honey girl, going to fill your hot little belly up with my cum juices…

His filthy, depraved words rang terribly in Patty’s ears, seeming to echo and reverberate inside her head. He was fucking into her with long, hard, pistoning strokes now, as if he were gathering strength for each forward thrust from the very tips of his toes. His hands cupped under her buttocks moved slightly, spreading the crevice between her legs wide to accept his bouncing, sperm-weighed balls, reveling in the feel of his testicles slapping down against the tiny puckered ring of her anus.

Patty was only half-conscious now, and in her semicomatose state she felt that he was going to split her in half with his insane lunges, split her right up the middle with an unhealable fissure, and groans of intense pain burst from her tortured throat, comingling with the sucking sounds of their slapping bodies to bring about a cacophony of noise that seemed to deafen her. Suddenly, she felt him jam into her with his brutal probe even harder, even more frenzied than before, and she knew that he was near his orgasm. She prayed for it, twisted and flailed her body to bring it about, to end this evil rape of her helpless flesh by her own father-in-law.

As if in confirmation of her thoughts, Jennings began to chant, “That’s it, honey girl, that’s it, honey girl, fuck my cock, climb up my cock with your cunt, that’s it, that’s it, that’s iiiitttttttt!”

He rammed forward, ceaselessly, viciously, interpreting her undulating movements as signs of passion within her, as signs of excitement and total lost abandonment in the perverse act, moaning and gurgling, feeling his rod burrow itself far up into her screaming belly, feeling his balls batter almost painfully against her asshole. And then…

“Oh… oh… ohhhhhhhhh, Christ, I’m, I’m there… honey, girl I’m therrrrrreeeeeee, I’m cuuummmmiiiiinnnnnggggggg!”

“Uuuuuuuugggggggg!” Patty squealed in pain and terror as the first hot jetting stream of his thick white cum burst through the engorged head of his pile-driving cock, flowing against her womb in a seemingly never-ending gusher of sticky fire, filling her completely, his seed blending with the fluid overflowing her quivering cunt to drench his hands holding her ass spread wide, turn the bedspread into a wet sea of sex juices beneath their thrashing bodies. Finally, at long last, the last droplets of his climax foamed out of the tiny eye of his glans, and he collapsed over her. The weight of him nearly driving the breath from her lungs, heaving and panting. She could feel his cock slowly deflate in her battered vagina until it was a limp and childlike toy that slipped from her sheath with a tiny, anticlimatic popping sound.

She felt the tears, hot and anguished and salty begin to cascade from her eyes, and she turned her head into the pillow, crying unabashedly now. He raised his head, looking down into her flushed, wet face, and grinned satiatedly. “That was really something, wasn’t it, honey girl? Didn’t I tell you old Tom used to be a cocksman? Well, it looks like he still is, eh? It was the greatest, but it could have even been better if you’d only started moving your ass a little sooner… “Shut up!" she screamed suddenly into the pillow. “Shutttt upppp you filthy, disgusting… beast!”

What…!”

“Get off me, get off me, let me up!" she wailed.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“I’m… I’m going to tell your wife what you did to me! I’m going to tell Larry! I’m going to tell whole world! I hope they lock you up in an institution somewhere, a place with bars where you can’t ever prey on women with that… evil thing of yours again!"

He slapped her abruptly, with the open palm of his hand, bringing it up off the bed and lashing it stingingly across her cheek. “You’re not going to tell anybody, you hear me? he grated. “You’re going to keep your mouth shut!“

“No, no…!”

“Goddamn right you are. You say anything to Larry or Gladys, and I’ll swear to hell and highwater that you’re lying, that you made advances to me and when I repulsed them you swore to get even with me. I’ll make you out to be the goddamned fucking gutter whore that you are, you hypocritical little bitch!”

“Oh God, dear God…”

“What’s the matter, you having second thoughts about it now?” Jennings asked contemptuously. “You were really digging my big cock a couple of minutes ago, and now you’re acting like the ravaged virgin. Shit! You’re the one responsible for what just happened, you remember that; you led me into this, swinging around, begging to be fucked and then getting fucked and liking it; and now you got the gall to pretend you were Miss Innocence in the whole affair. You’re nothing but a gutter whore, and if you don’t keep your mouth shut I’ll be the one to tell Gladys and Larry, and where’ll you be then? Right back in the gutter where you damned well belong!”

His brutal, lashing words battered her brain like a series of savage blows, and the tears came hotter and faster from her eyes. He slapped her again and said, “Well? Did you hear me?”

She could only nod, reflexively, her head still turned away from him. He grunted, satisfied, and she felt the crushing weight of his hirsute body lift off her, move to the other side of the bed.

Patty lay there for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only a matter of minutes, sensing Jennings’ venal nearness, wanting to escape but knowing there was nowhere to go. She merely lay still, crying out her shame and degradation and torment.

At long last, Jennings said. “I’m going to the head, now; when I come back, honey girl, maybe we can do a little more fucking. You’ll cooperate, won’t you?"

“Yes,” she managed in a tiny, totally defeated voice.

He patted her naked, sweat-dried buttock. “That’s my honey girl,” he said in a tone which was almost gentle. Then she felt his weight lift from the bed, heard him pad into the bathroom. Moments later, there came the sound of the toilet flushing; it seemed empty and faintly ominous in the still and silent house

Chapter 2

Patty turned over, curling into a fetal position and silently began to cry. The tears of shame and degradation rolled down her alabaster cheeks and stained the sheets, and her lips quivered with remorse and wretchedness. Yes, it was her fault. Mr. Jennings had been right She had unconsciously tried to lead him on, to excite him, to try to arouse him as a male animal. And all because her own mate, the man she had voluntarily picked out of all the other hundreds of thousands of men in the world, was away from her side and like all other women she did want to be wanted. His father was all too right: she was nothing better than a gutter whore even though she had never in her wildest dreams wanted it to go this far.

She moaned and rolled further into a ball, clenching her hands into fists and closing her arms about her tender, recently defiled flesh. Oh God… how could she ever face Larry, her dear, sweet, kind husband who was fighting so diligently in some disease ridden jungle for her and their unborn children’s sake? How could she go to him, make him happy and loving with the sperm of his father congealing inside her womb? And then another even more horrible thought hit her. What if… she were pregnant by this man… her own husband’s father!

Mr. Jennings low hum of contentment came through the bathroom door. Patty was tempted to turn over and see what he was doing, but she decided against it, preferring to act as though she was asleep. Maybe he would leave her alone, then, would honor her unconscious state and keep his hands and penis to himself. Maybe she wouldn’t be forced to again perform the lewd and perverted incest he had insisted upon.

And she had subconsciously caused. A moan of agony escaped from her lips.

Tom hummed the same monotonous tune from the bathroom to the bed. Her back was to him but Patty could picture in her mind’s eye his rapacious leer and sneering countenance and thick, bulging penis hanging from his groin and partially covered by a dewlap of belly fat. She heard him scratch his hairy chest and yawn, and she thought that this was a good sign… he was sleepy, yawning like that, and perhaps… she felt the bed sag and protest as his weight forced it down, then he climbed under the sheet and moved up against her. She could feel the warmth of his body as his naked flesh molded to hers, and her backbone became encased with his chest and stomach and her buttocks pressed against his thighs… his cock rubbed the split of her ass cheeks, tantalizingly close to her anus… and his hot breath streamed against the nape of her neck and then his hand slowly, silently began to worm its way over her side.

“Patty?” he whispered, “Are you awake, Patty?”

She tensed up, every nerve on fire from his heathen touch. She pursed her lips and refused to answer.

“Patty? I want more. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart! That bastard, that son-of-a-bitch has the gall to call me sweetheart after raping me! Patty clenched her teeth, swallowing the cry of anguish which welled within her throat. The hot tears of subjugation began to flow again. She prayed he wouldn’t notice her crying and realize she wasn’t really asleep.

His fingers continued their nasty game. They teased and pawed like lust-perverted spiders over her tender, satin skin, making goose bumps rise in their trail.

“Tomorrow, Patty,” he crooned, “Tomorrow we’ll have all day to fuck. Maybe other things, too. Good night, sweetheart.”

Oh, would he stop calling me sweetheart! And tomorrow… I can’t face the rays of sunlight and the horror of being exposed in the purity of the day. Oh, God, no! I’d rather die first! And that word… fucking… his crude, filthy degrading language makes my stomach turn inside out. And other things… what did that mean?

Patty remembered the times when Larry had wanted her to kiss his penis, to actually lean over while he stretched out on the bed and put her lips to the head of his erected organ. And he said he would kiss her between the legs in return. He had said it felt good. Not good, but fantastic. How perverted, how sickening a thought. Is this what I will be subjected to tomorrow with my father-in-law? His bulky stub of a penis jerking toward my mouth? No… no… no…! her mind screamed.

Yet Patty stayed quiet and still and presently Tom lost interest and rolled over. Soon she heard him breathe the sighs of sleep and presently he began to softly snore.

She thought what she should do. Run, Patty, run! her brain told her, but where could she go? Who was there who would protect her? Was there a man decent enough to understand what had happened and would fight off any further attempts by her father-in-law? No, she knew of none. Certainly none of Larry’s so-called friends would help. They would tell him first chance they got… that is, after trying to make love to her for themselves. Her marriage and the last vestiges of her self-respect would be shattered if she so much as dared to approach any of Larry’s friends.

Suddenly she could not stand it any longer. There were too many things to think about all at once; she was just going to have to get away, anyplace, and then worry about sorting out her tortured mind. But get away she must! Tonight! Before that mad beast beside her decided to crawl between her legs and spew his seed into her again!

She waited long enough to assure herself that her father-in-law was completely asleep and then cautiously she folded the covers back and got out of the bed. Her bare feet touched the rug and she found her slippers, then grabbing her bathrobe, she made her way out of the bedroom and down the hall. Then she stopped, and holding her breath, crept across the room, afraid with each step that he would hear her and wake up. Then she took hold of his pants and silently slipped out of the room. She rifled his pockets for his car keys and then dumping the pants on the floor, she hurried to the garage and his three-year-old Chevy Impala.

She had forgotten just how bad the exhaust pipes of Tom’s car were. They roared with the echoing sound of motorboats as she started the engine in the garage, and she heard Tom’s shout as he awoke and realized she was leaving. Luckily the garage door was open, she moved the lever into reverse and stepped on the gas just as the massive hulk of Tom raced out the side door.

He waved his fist, an almost ludicrous sight as he stood naked in the driveway, silhouetted by the Impala’s headlights. Then he was gone from her vision as Patty gunned the car forward and down the otherwise quiet residential street.

Marcia! That was it! The name of Marcia Allen came to Patty like a flash as she neared the first traffic light. She had met Marcia Allen when Larry had returned from boot camp. He had run across Marcia’s husband, Roger, while he was in training. They had been in the same barracks together by chance, and after they had found out they were from the same city, they became friends. The four of them went out together a few times when Larry and Roger were home, and Larry and she had even gone to a New Year’s Eve party at the Allens. She liked Marcia and Roger… and Marcia would surely understand her plight of all people.

After all, Marcia was also alone. Her husband was away in Viet Nam now, as was Larry, and that made a certain common bond between them. Patty drove across town to a slightly better section around Westlake, and then to the stucco duplex where Marcia Allen lived. Nervously licking her lips, and extremely self-conscious of her nakedness under the flimsy bathrobe, Patty hurried up the cement walk and rang the doorbell. At first nobody answered, and she rang again.

“Marcia!" she called out. “Please let me in!" A light suddenly went on in the back of the house, and then Patty heard the sounds of approaching footsteps and then the door cracked open slightly, and the sleepy head of Marcia peeked out.

“Who is it?" she said groggily.

“Patty,” she replied breathlessly. “Patty Jennings.”

The door closed momentarily as Marcia removed the chain and then she opened it wide. “Come in, Patty,” she said frowning, “What brings you here at this time of night?"

“Oh God it was awful,” Patty moaned, running in the house, “I… I” she choked on the words of her rape, and then sank to the couch beside the door, sobbing bitterly and hysterically. “Oh Marcia, help me!"

Marcia was completely taken aback by Patty’s strange actions. She had never seen the young wife of her husband’s friend so distraught before; she was nonplused as to what to do. She stood for a moment, looking down on the obviously barely covered form, and pulled her own thin gown tighter around her.

Marcia Allen was suddenly aware of Patty’s female body.

She had to admit there was a certain amount of jealousy about her reaction, for Patty was full breasted and ripe hipped, while Marcia felt her own body was too thin. She had admired Patty from the first time they had met, conscious of how the men stared at her flaming hair and rich skin and bright, almost innocent eyes. She recalled how she had stood in front of the full length mirror in the bedroom after Patty and Larry had gone home that night, staring at her own nude reflection in the glass, almost weeping at her small, tight breasts and thin hips. Roger had been in the living room finishing the last of the scotch, and never knew that she was so upset.

He would have laughed at her if he had known. How many times had he told her that stupid phrase: “The closer to the bone, the sweeter the meat!"

The same erotic impulse creeped up the insides of Marcia’s thighs as she stood, trembling over Patty. Yes, that first night, alone in the bedroom, she had molded and squeezed her breasts, trying to magically exercise them into the exquisite balloons she knew lay encased in Patty’s bra. Then her hands had slid down the flat plain of her stomach and rubbed her loins, her palms stroking her resilient skin, feeling her prominent hip bones and pelvis, and then she dipped further, and her legs had parted, wet for release… and then her fingers tantalized the red lips of her vagina.

“Oh Marcia, it was awful, just awful,” Patty wailed. “He was like an animal, an enraged beast, with only one thing on his mind. Ooooohhhhh…!“ She continued to cry and Marcia pulled herself back to the present with a jerk. She tried to comprehend what Patty was trying to tell her, what the problem was which had brought her to this house in the dead of the night.

“I never thought Larry’s father could be so cruel, so depraved! Oh if Gladys only knew what he had done!“ Suddenly Patty whipped the lower half of her robe aside, and Marcia gasped.

“Look, Marcia, look at the marks he left!”

Marcia did stare, her whole being reacting with sudden lust at the spread sight of Patty’s naked cunt. Without modesty but without arousal, either, Patty displayed the black and blue scarred inner thighs, and the rough and ragged pubic mound. Marcia groaned, which Patty mistakenly took as a sigh of sympathy, and she sat down beside the woman, putting a hand around Patty’s shoulder to comfort her. It was also so that she could be closer to that delectable young body which shone up at her.

The autumnal hued pubic hair still glistened from Tom’s savage fucking. A droplet of dried cum remained near the top of the cuntal opening, a mute testimony to the scene which Patty was hysterical over. The vagina was blood engorged, with still swollen lips which stuck through the pubic hair like a mountain range through the fog. It seemed to reach out to Marcia, and she couldn’t remove her eyes from its magnificence. It was soft and lush, and with long lips and a tight, coral-hued slit, all well divided and symmetrical and rounded. The whiteness of Patty’s groin set off the carmine redness of her warm, graceful seductiveness, and Marcia could imagine flame to burst from her hole. Even the clitoris, large and still hard from the rape, shown through and reminded Marcia of the Indian phrase for such a vulva: abou tertour, the crested one. It was all she could do to stop herself from reaching out with tender fingers and touching it.

“That’s… that’s awful,” she managed to reply. “I can’t think of anything more horrible. Oh, Patty, oh you poor dear!”

She pressed the distraught Patty to her, and the young girl nestled in her shoulder, still crying with shame and humiliation. The robe slid still further from Patty’s thighs, exposing her belly and sides and Marcia quivered with perverted desire.

“What are you planning to do?” Marcia asked.

“I don’t know. I’m so confused and wretched! Mr. Jennings threatened to blame it all on me, to tell Larry and Gladys I had seduced him, had egged him on, if I so much as breathe a word of what happened. Oh, I can’t lose Larry! I can’t take the chance he’ll believe his father and not his wife!” She broke away from Marcia’s grasp and looked up at her, tear stained eyes pleading for help. “What can I do? Oh, Marcia, what can I do?”

“Shhh, Patty, you’re all upset. Things will look better in the morning. Trust me. I mean, it was a repulsive thing which happened to you, but it’s not the end of the world.”

“How… how can you be so calm!”

“Well, face facts. You’re a big girl now, Patty. You weren’t physically damaged, were you? I mean, you weren’t a virgin that’s been torn apart and you’re not pregnant, are you?”

"I… I hope not.” Patty convulsed at the thought. “What if I am? Can you imagine what would happen if Larry ever found out that he was a brother to my child and not its father? It would crush him!”

“When was your menstrual period?"

“What? Oh, I see what you mean. Last week.

“There. You see? A chance in a thousand that you are pregnant from Tom. It’ll take some time to heal the mental scar, but maybe it would be wiser to wait and see what develops with your father-in-law rather than go rush into something foolish.”

“But where can I go, Marcia? I won’t go back… ever!“

Marcia suddenly realized that an opportunity for her own gratification was at hand. What is the matter with me? her mind cried out. My God, here I am, setting this poor, raped friend of mine up for another depraved act… why can’t I stop myself? Don’t I like men enough. Why must I prey on women… on her… as well?

Marcia knew the answer to her own questions. It was an answer she had often had to live with. She liked sex; all kinds, all ways, all the time. Roger was gone, there wasn’t a man around to stick his cock inside her, so she was going to have to try to interest Patty in the next best thing. A woman’s touch. She groaned inwardly at the sensuous thought, then smiled at Patty and said calmly: “You can stay here as long as you like.”

“Can I? Can I really?”

“Certainly! I’m all alone, and this house is built for two. That is, if you don’t mind sharing the… bed with me.”

Patty never caught the hesitation of Marcia’s reply. She was too overjoyed at the prospect of a way out from the horrid situation she had fled from to notice the intense and struggling facial features of Marcia and the way her fingers stroked the robe gently. “No, I don’t mind. I promise I’ll be quiet and I’ll help out with the housework and pitch in for the food… Marcia, I’d be so grateful!”

Marcia thought to herself of the pleasant ways which Patty could show her gratefulness. “Yes, I’m sure everything will work out just fine!”

The two girls talked over some hot coffee for another hour, Patty telling all the gory details of the rapacious actions she had been part of, and Marcia offering commiseration whenever possible. Marcia was on Patty’s side all the way, standing up beside her to ward off the evilness of the male animal, or at least that was the impression she was trying to give. At last it was time to retire, and after putting out towels for Patty and showing her where she could put her things later, they were together, alone, in the bedroom.

“I sleep in the raw,” Marcia said as she discarded her gown. “I put this on to answer the door, but I find the blankets are warm enough. I’m stifled otherwise.”

Patty gulped as she viewed Marcia’s slender form. “I… I do the same normally.” She hesitated, her hands on the belt of her robe, then with a small shrug as though saying “It’s all between us girls,” she opened the robe and slipped it from her shoulders. The two girls smiled at each other, their nudeness a natural thing of beauty to each other.

Patty was struck by the slim, and to her, enviable, body before her. Marcia had the apple shaped breasts and wasplike waist she had so often desired for herself, and her hips had the kind of scalloped thighs and slender loins of a woman built for sports. Patty glanced down at her own fullness, wondering if she would be happier if she were more like Marcia, if sex would be more stimulating if there were less flesh between the nerve endings. She stared at the softness of the pubic hair between Marcia’s legs, and the lewd picture came into her mind of a penis slipping wetly into the narrower aperture.

Marcia, as if reading Patty’s brain, sat on the edge of the bed and raised one leg to the spread, resting her thin, long-toed foot upon the coverlet and seemingly inspected her toenails. There was no self-consciousness about the fact that she was facing Patty with her cuntal mouth splayed wide. The cool night air played across her thin lipped vagina, making it tingle with urgency. She could almost feel her lubricating juices beginning to seep from the insides of her pussy. She knew that Patty was gazing at her crotch, and by some basic, animalistic instinct, she also knew that Patty had the same urges, untapped as they may be, to explore the same sex. With all the cunning of a female predator, she smiled to herself and bided her time… waiting… waiting…

Patty crawled under the covers on the other side of the bed, shaken at the sudden strange intoxication which had swept over her. She couldn’t understand the peculiar tingling which had happened to her when she had viewed the vaginal opening of her friend, the odd thrill at watching Marcia’s small breasts perk up when she had removed the gown over her head, and the way her dark, negroid colored nipples had contrasted with the paleness of her skin. It was… almost as if she was sexually aroused by this woman!

Impossible! What a horrid thought! What a sick, sick thing to imagine! First her whoredom with her husband’s father… and now lesbianism… Oh God what was happening to her, to the moral code which had been so much a part of her life? Had she plummeted to the bottom of moral turpitude by being apart from Larry? Was the loss of her hymen a signal to debauch herself in carnal abuse?

She turned away from the now stretching woman who yawned beside her, and tried to will herself asleep. Sleep eluded her.

Instead, her mind went back to an incident of many years previous, back when she was but still a child, innocent and first awakening to the mysteries of puberty. She was ten, her mother still alive, and the family was visiting some relations who lived on a lake in Oregon. There, in the little dressing room which was used for changing into swimming suits, she had walked in on her Aunt Rosalie, who had been standing nude, drying herself.

Everybody else had been up at the house, and it had been just Aunt Rosalie and her, just like now it was just Marcia and herself. Aunt Rosalie was a big woman with a figure almost as ripe as the one Patty had now, and she had stood proud and spread legged, rubbing the woolly towel over her thighs and pubic area, rubbing and rubbing and rubbing up and down until Patty had come in and interrupted.

It was all as though it was happening again, Patty thought to herself as she slipped into the drowsy dream-world of half sleep. The scene was vivid before her mind’s eye…

What are you doing, Auntie?" she had asked; and Auntie had merely said she was drying herself, that’s all. And would she like to have Auntie dry her, too?

Patty had giggled and wriggled out of her own wet suit and stood, her slightly plump girlish body dripping and goosebumpy, and Auntie had closed the towel around her and rubbed. She had rubbed Patty’s hair and face and arms and legs and then her tummy, stopping for a moment to tickle the sweet little navel and causing Patty to laugh. Then upwards to the forming breasts, and the tingling fingering through the material as Auntie rolled the small teats between her thumb and forefinger.

“What are you doing?” Patty had asked, suddenly aware of a strange new sensation; an electrifying, almost stinging charge which started at her breasts and radiated throughout her body. She looked down at her Auntie’s manipulations, fascinated to find that for the first time, her breasts seemed to grow larger, that her little nipples were protruding and were firm like light switches being turned on and off as they were stroked up and down. “I’m… I’m getting bigger!” she had said in awe.

Aunt Rosalie had hit upon the one fear Patty had… the rather pointless fear that her breasts weren’t going to develop. Auntie had chuckled and rubbed harder. “Why, this is how you make them bigger, sweets,” she had purred. “You exercise them. A lot, just like your Aunt Rosalie does. And look at mine!” She had stopped with the towel and held out one breast for Patty to examine, and Patty, with the curiosity of a child, had reached up and touched the mammoth gland. Rosalie had moaned softly and at first Patty had been afraid she had hurt her, but Rosalie had pressed the hand to her breast tightly with her own, dropping the towel, and said; “More, more, sweets. See how my tit grows?”

And it had. The large nipple seemed to burst from the ruby aureole around it, popping into view like a worm from an apple, and Patty had gasped. Rosalie had led her to the wood-slat bench and had told her to lie down upon it, and then she had proceeded to exercise the tiny breasts, causing Patty to breathe more rapidly and harder, “Oh… oh… oh!”

It had been terribly exciting, she had thought afterwards, but she never knew whether it had been genuine passion or not. She had, in subsequent years, refused to think it had been sexual arousal, for at that time, she did not even know the word, much besides the feeling. She had automatically reached out again and touched the wondrously soft breast of Auntie Rosalie, and Auntie had then told her how to rub and twist and cup her so as to make it better. “Yes… yes, sweets… that’s it… that’s it…”

Auntie Rosalie had soon moved her other hand down to the thin slit of Patty’s hairless little cunt, her eyes feasting on the mound, with excitement. Patty had let her do it without question, not afraid or worried, as Auntie was a wonderful friend she had loved. She had kept massaging the warm breast Auntie proffered, tracing a finger over the nipple, marveling on how it was so big and just stuck out! It was so firm and had no prominent veins or anything imperfect about it as her mother’s had.

“Oh, Patty, you’re so good,” Auntie had exclaimed. “If you only knew how much I wanted you since you came this summer!” She had begun to twist about, moving her body until it was beside Patty on the bench, her legs stretched out and her heels off the floor and she continued to pillage the virginal girl’s cunt. Patty had noticed that Auntie’s hand was no longer on her breast but that it was between her own legs, pulling and stretching the secret area hidden by the soft mat of pubic hair… just as she was doing to Patty. Her vaginal area was dry and Auntie Rosalie’s fingers hurt a little, but she had been too full of wonder and excitement to protest.

“Ooooohhhhhhh,” Auntie had gasped. “I’ve just got to eat you up!” Patty hadn’t know what she had meant, but merely stared as Auntie stood and spread the towel on the floor, then beckoned to Patty to come join her. Patty had dropped to her knees in front of the lying woman, and then arms went about her and she had been pulled to Rosalie and they had kissed. Auntie’s mouth was open and her tongue played around, and Patty, catching the idea, opened her mouth and accepted the tongue. Auntie had rolled about, clutching the child tightly to her, moaning and making noises and moving her body against Patty. Then the aunt had moved from Patty’s face downwards, sucking the lump of forming breast, still shifting and moving around. It was all so quick and new to Patty, but she had yet to complain, it being so soft and gentle.

Rosalie’s tongue traversed Patty’s belly and had gone deep into her crotch. She had moved to a better position and spread the matchstick legs apart and licked the insides of the young thighs and probed beneath the crotch with her finger until the tip of it found the anus.

“Oh, we have two little holes here,” she had observed excitedly. “And let’s see what’s hidden in here.

Patty had lain transfixed as Auntie stretched apart the nubile cunt lips and explored both visually and with her fingers. Later, Patty could remember that, and she had repeated the act in front of mirrors, wondering if her vagina really looked that pretty to somebody else. By the look on Auntie’s face, it did at the time, and Patty had a great sense of pride, a new feeling of confidence at becoming a woman…

Auntie had licked upwards then, inserting her tongue where her fingers had been, and Patty jerked with the wild touch. It had been so wonderful and warm and nice and loving. The licking and sucking had continued as if Auntie was trying to find something, although it had been too early in Patty’s maturation for a clitoris to be discernible. Patty had watched her aunt intently, breathing heavier and heavier as the tongue had darted in and out, loving the feeling of the suction of her lips.

Rosalie had shifted to her knees, her face and mouth pressed hard between the little girl’s legs, and when Patty had moved her she could see that her aunt had her hand between her own legs, and she had heard the unmistakable slushing sound which later she had experienced when she masturbated.

“Oh… oh… Oh… oh,” Rosalie had moaned in a funny, slow whine. She had raised her head long enough to say; “I’m going to cum, Patty. I’m… going… to… cum! Tell me you love me, Patty, tell me you love me!"

“I love you, Auntie Rosalie.”

Her body had convulsed and contorted in rapid jerks, and she had made more pitiful whines and sighs. Then she had suddenly jumped upright into a sitting position and looked at Patty with a wide and satisfied smile on her face. “Oh, sweets, you were wonderful!“ she had gurgled. She then grabbed Patty in a tight embrace and kissed her cheeks and neck and shoulders. “You were so very good! But let’s not tell Mummy or Daddy or anybody about this, all right? We’ll keep this a secret just for us, and maybe, if you’re a good girl, we can do it again!” Patty had nodded and smiled pleasantly back, which evidently the aunt took as a sign of agreement.

She tossed in Marcia’s bed, whimpering and moaning with the dream of her first experience with sex. She had tried to live it down, to forget about her Auntie Rosalie and her lesbian ideas, but she had never quite succeeded. There always seemed to be the spark of forbidden interest in the back of her mind, springing to the fore during high school when she was in the shower room with other naked girls, or at the YWCA, or when she caught sight of pictures in the girlie magazines…

Dimly she heard the faint rustling of the sheet beside her, but her brain was unconscious enough to not tell her who it was. She tried to open her eyes but they seemed weighed shut.

“Patty,” came the ethereal voice through the sleep clouds, “Can I get you anything? You seemed to be having a nightmare?

“No, no, nothing…“ Patty heard herself reply in a slurred voice. “Who…?”

“It’s Marcia, Patty.”

Patty felt one of her hands being stroked, and for some reason past her comprehension the bedcovers seemed to have slipped from her. But it was so warn.., so warm and the stroking felt so good.

“Poor Patty. Poor, poor Patty,” came Marcia’s voice from far away. “I’ll rub your head, Patty. That will make you relax.”

Patty felt the fingers, little points of softness around her forehead and temples. She began to slumber again as the hypnotic voice continued.

“I know what you need, Patty. You need to be loved, only gently, not that brutal, crude way as Mr. Jennings did. You need a woman’s love, Patty, I know you do…”

“Yes… Patty murmured in a drugged tone.

“You have such a beautiful body, Patty. Would you like me to rub your beautiful body just like I’m rubbing your head? Of course you do.”

Without waiting for an answer, Marcia moved her hands from Patty’s face down her arms, then back up and around the twin peaks of breasts, carefully avoiding the nipples. Her eyes were hot upon the rounded globes, the teats growing erect automatically. Yes, Marcia thought, men are the best, with their great cocks and bloated balls and hairy bodies, but it’s nice to have a woman once in a while… a velvet smooth, creamy skinned female to fuck and suck and crawl upon with passion.

She began to talk to Patty again, soothingly telling her how beautiful and desirable she was, and while she crooned, she stroked the now turgid nipples and then slid one hand down the smooth, flat stomach and touched the first downy soft pubic hairs.

Patty moaned slightly, her hips beginning to gyrate and she thought how lovely was the feeling, how exquisitely nice. She reached up her hand and Marcia pressed the fingertips against one tit, and Marcia’s cunt fired with sudden desire. She stretched her nude body out against Patty and moaned as Patty massaged mesmerically the diamond hard nipple. Gently she spread Patty’s vaginal lips apart and touched the bud of her clitoris. Patty undulated at the sudden touch, and the clit rose to attention, the fluids of her sexual awakening flowing on the already sweat stained sheets.

But who was doing this to me? Larry? Patty suddenly snapped into consciousness and realized with full horror exactly who it was… Marcia!… and what she was doing! Her eyes flew open just as Marcia bent her head and her lips pressed against Patty’s with an agile, pliant, sweet possession. Dear God! I can’t let myself do this! But it was too late. As the flutterings of Marcia’s tongue enflamed her mouth, she capitulated to the torment of her unfulfilled lust. Tom had raped her, but the damage had been done. He had, in spite of her rejection, aroused her physical needs which up until then she had been able to control since Larry had left. And now, after dreaming of the incident with Auntie Rosalie, she could not have resisted Marcia’s advances.

And in spite of the degradation she felt at accepting another woman’s lovemaking, she responded. Patty sucked the invading tongue as Marcia trailed her agile, spiderlike fingers over her body, tormenting her breasts and thighs and vagina, their bodies locked together.

Finally Marcia raised above her, and she teased Patty’s rigid nipple while she roved her lascivious eyes over the lovely redhead’s voluptuous nakedness. She trembled with anticipation as she spoke.

“I’m going to make you cum, Patty. You’re going to explode like you never have before. I promise!“

Patty moaned. “Oh yes… yes..

“I promise…“ Marcia repeated as she moved down the bed, her tongue making a trail of hot saliva over the quivering passionate flesh. Patty raised her head, and she was suddenly reminded of the similarity between the scene now and the one with her aunt as Marcia nestled her head into the hollow of her opened thighs. She felt the kisses on her tender, blood filled vulva and the hot breath upon her pubic hair… only there was a difference. A wonderfully magical difference. This time it was more than a nice feeling… it was nirvana, heaven, complete mind-blowing Valhalla! The swiftly flickering tongue sent taunting messages radiating up her body to her brain, making her respond with conditioned reflexes.

Patty hissed and groaned and rolled her head from side to side on the pillow, and her clitoris jerked and strained as Marcia grazingly tickled the bud.

Marcia worked insanely, stroking from the top to the bottom and then back to the top of Patty’s splayed, almost yearning cunt. Each gentle lap brought an involuntary lifting of the loins, as the tip of her tongue toyed with Patty’s labia. She pressed her mouth closer, reaching up with her hands to play with the juggling breasts. Her mouth was a seething, hot oven of lust, invading the vaginal orifice and lashing the erect clitoris and licking the whole wet furrow with an eellike tongue which was slippery with flowing cuntal juices.

Patty mewled with uncontrollable, unsatiated passion. Her belly rippled and she rubbed her hands against her thighs and curled her fingers in Marcia’s strewing hair, forcing the woman’s face deeper to her burning cunt. Marcia was gasping for breath… sucking air in short surges so as to not break the fervent contact of her eager mouth, tongue and lips. Even her nose was burrowing the wild depraved groin, the odor of the female musk driving her still wilder.

“Oh… oh… Ooooohhhhh, I can’t stand it!" Patty screamed. “It’s too much… too much!"

Her voice died in a strangled sob and sigh, but then broke out again in a high pitched wail as the seething lust overflowed and swept through her. She twisted in the grip of her sweet torture, twisting and writhing but never breaking the mouth which was glued to her cunt. The tongue continued to stroke her clitoris, sending lightning like stabs through her marrow. She gasped and groaned… and then she came, like the ravaging hurricane of a summer season, to pound and wash and flood her senses.

“Aaaaaaggggggghhhhhhh!“ she cried, lifting her buttocks off the bed. Shuddering violently she relaxed as the climax passed over her.

But Marcia did not let go. She continued to pillage the clitoris and vagina, licking the slightly acid secretions of Patty’s orgiastic release, sucking the swollen lips of her throbbing pussy, kissing the trembling inner thighs.

“Enough! Enough!“ whimpered Patty. But they both knew it wasn’t. Patty sobbed aloud and she convulsed, her hands once more locked in Marcia’s hair as her stomach went rigid. She wanted, yet at the same time, did not want, Marcia to stop. Again she spasmed inside, cumming once more, her heart slamming wildly against her ribs, her mind adrift with the pleasure.

Then once more… with Patty emitting animal like sounds from deep in her chest, her eyes glazed and her mouth limply open.

And again and again and again for the rest of the night.

Chapter 3

The warm, diffused light of dawn shone through the bedroom window and woke Patty the next morning. Curled into a small ball, her legs drawn up with her arms circling them, hugging them, she opened her eyes and stared at the bedside clock. It was eight-fifteen. At first, she thought she was home in her room at the Jennings' and that she ought to get up immediately lest she be late for work this morning. Then, slowly, the sleep cobwebs began to dissipate and she realized where she was, whose bed she was now lying in, alone. And worse, what had happened last night, everything that had happened last night.

A low, tremulous moan escaped her lips as wave after wave of shame and degradation swept over her. Oh God, oh God, what had become of her? She was lost, lost… First she had experienced the sickly depraved rape at the hands of her father-in-law and then, following her headlong flight, she had allowed herself with condoning passivity to be sucked and kissed between her legs by her best girl friend in an act of sheer lesbian degeneration. And, most terrible of all, most horrifying of all, she had enjoyed that illicit, orgiastic lovemaking and had climaxed again and again under Marcia's expert tongue and mouth…

Patty moaned again, and dimly she became aware of the sound of a shower spray on tile walls. She listened, knowing that Marcia was in the bathroom, bathing, preparing herself for work. Patty briefly entertained the thought of getting up, of dressing and going to work herself… but the idea left her immediately. How could she work today? How could she go through the normal motions of her everyday secretarial position, having to face her employer, her coworkers? Too, she didn't have any clothing, had only the robe she had been wearing when she had come here last evening.

No, she couldn't go to work, she would have to call in sick.

Abruptly, the sound of the shower ceased and Patty realized that Marcia would soon be coming out of the bathroom. A certain panic seized control of her brain momentarily. How could she face Marcia, for God's sake? How, after last night, could she possibly look this woman who had been her friend in the eye…?

The bathroom door opened before she had an opportunity to further dwell on the thought,

Marcia…a fluffy bath towel wrapped around her slim body… emerged into the bedroom. Her face had a brightly pink, scrubbed look and she smiled pleasantly as she saw that Patty was awake. She padded over to the bed and sat down on the foot of it, looking tenderly at Patty. “Good morning, dear," she said. how do you feel today?”

Patty turned her face away, staring at the wall, and didn't reply.

Marcia toyed with the bottom folds on the towel. "I know what you must… think of me, after last night,” she said slowly. "I guess I'd best explain about myself.”

Patty said nothing.

"You see," Marcia went on, "I'm an extremely physical person. The needs of my body govern my mind at times, if you know what I mean. I suppose I'm oversexed anyway, but when I need lovemaking, when I need to make love, I simply can't wait beyond that first sperate urge. I have to do it, or I become so agitated I think I'm going to lose my mind sometimes. I'm not a lesbian, Patty; I much prefer a man with me, inside me, a man to kiss the way I was kissing you last night. But with Roger in Viet Nam, and no other man available right now, I… well, I just had to have someone. I've had women before, I'll admit not very often, but once in awhile, when I couldn't find other outlets. I guess I really am sort of screwed up sexually, but everyone has hangups, you know."

Patty turned her face toward her. "You mean, you… you've been with other men while Roger's been gone…?"

"Yes I have," Marcia admitted. "One or two. I can't help myself, and Roger knows that and understands. He also knows I love him, very much, and that these other… liaisons really don't mean a thing to me." She paused, her face softening in a gentle, woman-to-woman smile. "I hope you'll forgive me, honey, for last night. I… I don't want to lose your friendship, Patty.”

Patty was struck with a sudden compassion for this woman who was her friend, and the awful images in her brain of the lewd acts Marcia had performed on her body faded and paled into insignificance. Who was she to judge this poor woman? She, whom Tom Jennings had called a gutter whore and said had been leading him on, tempting him with lascivious movements of her lush body. If she expected to be forgiven for her transgressions, her "hangups" as Marcia had put it, then couldn't she find it in her heart to forgive another for hers?

"Oh Marcia," she said finally, "yes, I forgive you! I don't want to lose your friendship either! But you-we must never do what… we did again. You have to promise me that"

"I promise," Marcia answered solemnly, and she reached out and clasped Patty's hand. Then she stood, smiling, and returned to the bathroom. Patty slid out of bed and put on her robe, wrapping it tightly around her. She went out into the duplex's tiny kitchen and found fresh made coffee and poured herself a cup. She was sitting at the breakfast nook, sipping it, when Marcia came in, fully dressed, a few minutes later.

"Oh good, I see you found the coffee," Marcia said.

"Yes. It's very good."

Marcia beamed. "I've put out a loose-fitting housedress of mine which you should be able to wear until you can get your clothes." She paused. "Speaking of that, when are you going to pick up your clothes? And return the Jennings' car?"

"I… hadn't thought about it," Patty replied.

"Well, you should," Marcia told her. "I know you don't want to stay with the Jennings any longer, and I certainly don't blame you, but your things are there, after all, and you'll have to move them out. And if you don't bring the car back, Larry's father is liable to have the police looking for it; from what you've told me, he sounds like that sort of bastard."

"I guess I could do that this morning," Patty said reflectively. "He's left for work by now, and there's no one else home; he always takes the Muni bus."

"Good! Tell you what: I'll follow you to the Jennings' and help you load your things into my car. Then we'll bring them back here."

"But I can't stay with you, Marcia," Patty said. "I'd be intruding.

"Nonsense! I'd love to have you, Patty, sincerely I would. I get terribly lonesome for a friend sometimes."

"Well… if you're sure you won't mind…”

"Not at all," Marcia said. "I'll call in to work and tell them I'll be late this morning. Then, after you're dressed, we can be on our way."

"Oh!" Patty said suddenly. "I'll have to call in, too, to tell them I won't…”

"Don't worry, honey. I've already taken care of that for you. I told your boss you'd be taking a couple of days off, that you weren't feeling too well. He said he understood. I really don't think you ought to go back to work right away after an experience like you had with Larry's father."

"You're so good to me, Marcia," Patty said gratefully. "Thank you for all you've done for me." She blushed slightly at the inference of inclusion of last night's lesbian lovemaking.

Marcia seemed not to notice. "What else are friends for?" she asked rhetorically, and moved toward the telephone in the hallway.

Patty was preparing supper, lamb chops and a tossed green salad with roquefort dressing, when Marcia arrived home from work a little past six that night.

Patty had spent the day uneventfully. She had returned Tom Jennings' car, and the house had been deserted, as she had expected it to be. With Marcia's help, they had moved as much of her belongings as Marcia's car would allow and she had left a note for Jennings saying that she had moved out and would pick up the remainder of her things, hers and Larry's at some later date; she hadn't mentioned where she was staying.

When they had returned to Marcia's duplex and the clothing and other items had been moved from the car inside, Marcia had bid Patty good-bye and left for work. Patty had watched some television, trying to relax, and then read an historical novel which she found in the storage closet until the time came to prepare supper.

Marcia, coming into the kitchen now, said, "Patty, you didn't have to bother making dinner."

"But I wanted to," Patty answered. "It gave me something to do."

"You're a dear," Marcia said. She sat down at the table as Patty began to toss the salad in a large wooden bowl. "We've been invited to a party tonight."

"A party?"

"Yes. At the home… in St. Francis Woods, no less… of Richard Renault. You've heard of him, surely."

"No, I don't think so."

"Well, he's one of San Francisco's oldest and richest playboys, the heir to a Peruvian tin mine fortune. You have to be… well, terribly flattered when he invites you to one of his exclusive little parties."

Patty frowned. "How do you know this Mr. Renault?"

"He… ah, is a client of the brokerage firm where I work," Marcia replied easily. "I've been to one other of his parties; they're great fun, Patty."

"But he doesn't even know who I am," Patty countered. "Why would he invite me? Are you sure that he…?"

"I told him all about you, and he insisted that I bring you along tonight."

"Marcia, I really don't think a party…”

"It will do you good to get out and have some fun," Marcia told her. "That's the best way to forget… unpleasant experiences. Now I won't have you sitting around here in a sad and depressed state, so please say you'll come with me tonight."

"Well…" Patty considered the idea for a moment, deciding that Marcia was probably right; there was no purpose to be served in sitting around and dwelling on life's dirty dealings. Why shouldn't she have a little fun, meet some new people? God knew, she'd had enough unhappiness to last her a lifetime. She said at length, "All right, Marcia, I will come tonight. It sounds like it might be enjoyable."

"Oh it will be," Marcia said, smiling, “It will be, honey.”

After supper, and after the dishes had been done, Marcia and Patty dressed for their outing. Patty selected a simply designed party dress, carefully brushed and sprayed her long reddish-gold hair, and applied a touch of perfume and some frosted pink lipstick. Marcia, wearing a clinging red dress of rustling material, nodded her approval when Patty emerged ready to go from the bathroom. "You look lovely, Patty!" she enthused.

"And so do you," Patty returned.

Smiling comradely, they went out to Marcia's car and drove across the city to St. Francis Woods, an extremely fashionable section of San Francisco. Marcia pulled to the curb on Buena Vista Terrace, in front of a white stucco, Spanish architectured home with iron grillwork balconies and a spacious, well-tended green lawn bisected by a red-brick path. The two girls followed the path to a wide set of double doors which formed the entranceway, and Marcia rang the ivory bell inlaid into the stucco; faint, melodious chimes echoed throughout the interior.

Almost immediately, a Chinese houseboy, smiling pleasantly, admitted them into a hallway. “Mister Renault is in the study, ladies,” he said. “This way, please.”

He led them down the high-ceilinged hallway and through a door into a darkly furnished room; the motif was Spanish, with luxuriant tapestries and a brooding mural on one wall. On the right was a set of French doors in an ovaled archway, opening onto a patio grown with oleander bushes and other shadowed plants. A lush garden grew beyond it. Inside the room itself, on a thick muted rug, a series of cushiony pillows of a dark gold color were arranged in a wide circle before a leather couch. The only light came from the moon, shining through the glass doors, and Patty could see four people sitting cross-legged, Indian-fashion, on the pillows, three men and one girl. As they entered, one of the men rose slowly and started across the room toward them; the Chinese houseboy slipped out and closed the door behind him.

"Why is everybody sitting on those cushions?" Patty whispered to Marcia.

"Mr. Renault is kind of an eccentric," Her friend answered. "He's very involved in Meditative Transmigration."

"What's that?"

"A mystical Eastern sect which believes in truth, beauty and the eternity of the human soul."

"That doesn't sound very mystical to me," Patty responded. "It sounds lovely."

"Oh, there's more to it than that," Marcia whispered. “It becomes very complicated if you listen to all the little intricacies which comprise it.”

"Oh, I see," Patty said, not really seeing at all.

The man who had gotten up approached them now, his hand extended in greeting. He was thin, short, and possessed a lined, leathery face that disclosed his age as sixty or thereabouts; he had thick wavy gray hair and a precise dove-gray mustache. He wore a velvet lounging robe, a deep wine color.

"Hello, Marcia, my dear," he said, touching hands. Then he turned to Patty, taking her hand and holding it for a moment. "I'm Richard Renault," he introduced himself to her. “Rick, to my intimates. And you must be Patty Jennings.”

"Yes, she answered, smiling, a little flustered.

"Marcia's told me so much about you."

"I hope it was complimentary."

"Very complimentary indeed," Renault said. "Please come join the Circle. I'll introduce you to my other guests."

They followed him across the study to the cluster of pillows. He said then, "I would like to present two very lovely ladies, Marcia Allen, whom you already know, and Patty Jennings."

Neither of the remaining two men stood, but both smiled up at Patty and Marcia. Renault said, indicating the nearer of the two, a tall, distinguished man with close-cropped blond hair. "This is Val Robbins, a rather successful advertising executive. And the other gentleman "… he swept his hand to the shorter man across from Robbins, who had long, almost shoulder-length hair and very wide, bushy sideburns “is Frank Harrel, a not-quite-so-successful but very talented artist.”

Patty nodded to the two men, noticing that Robbins' eyes remained on her, moving slowly up and down her body; she flushed a little, feeling somewhat embarrassed and yet somewhat pleased, too, that he found her so obviously attractive. He was, she decided, quite a handsome man in his own right.

Renault said, “The young lady is, ah, a guest in my house on a regular basis, Miss Barbara Davis.” The lone girl nodded up at them, tossing her rich brown curls carelessly. She had large, finely defined breasts encased in a thin black dress; her legs were bare, without stockings, and the hem of the dress had hiked up to expose most of her full white thighs; she seemed not to notice, or if she did, to care.

Renault went over and sat on the pillow next to Barbara, and then raised his hand to the two friends. “Marcia, come sit next to Frank; and Patty, please sit by Val if you will.”

They obeyed, and Patty smiled at Val as she sat down next to him and crossed her legs in the fashion of the others. She sensed then a certain oddly unexplainable tension in the darkened air, as if all the others even Marcia were waiting for something to… begin. She really couldn't understand it, though; she merely shrugged mentally and sat waiting.

They sat in silence for a long while, perhaps five minutes. The aging head of Rick Renault was bowed and his eyes were closed, as if he were in a deep trance; Patty wondered if he was meditating, remembering Marcia's words. Finally, Renault raised his head and smiled at each of his guests in turn. Then he reached down between his cushion and the one on which sat Barbara Davis and produced a sculptured silver cigarette box. He held it up in both hands for a moment, as if he was offering it for blessing to some unseen deity; then he opened the lid and took a thin brown cylinder from inside, muttering chanting words under his breath that Patty couldn't understand. He passed the box to Barbara after a moment, and she also took a cylinder and passed it on to Frank Harrel, who repeated the ritual. When the box came to Patty, she took one of the rough, grainy items and saw in the gloom that it was a cigarette. She frowned, looking at it, as the box passed back to Renault. Their host returned it between the cushions and produced then a series of small china cups which he passed around, so that each member of the group had one.

Not wanting to sound naive, but at the same time completely puzzled by the ritual of which she was a part, Patty turned to Val Robbins and whispered, "What… is this all about? I mean, I'm not sure I…" She faltered, blushing a little.

Val smiled reassuringly. "Rick is a strange sort of person at times," he answered. "You just have to bear with him."

"What kind of cigarette is this?" Patty asked, and as she did so she knew the answer even before Val told her. She had heard stories, read articles, watched news programs on the subject, heard all the pros and cons, the constant arguments, the vernacular terms: pot, weed, grass, muggle, hash, reefers, Mary Jane, "Marijuana, of course," Val said, somewhat surprised. "You mean you didn't know? Really?"

"Well, I…" Patty was blushing feverishly now, and she was glad of the darkness so that Val and the others were unable to see her. She felt confused, extremely indecisive at that moment; she had never had any desire to try marijuana, drugs of any kind, she had always said when asked her opinion on the subject that such things were probably fine for other people but not for her. Yet, she didn't believe that pot was harmful, that it led to addiction to such things as heroin and cocaine and morphine; that was just old-fashioned nonsense. And the idea of trying the relaxing drug for the first time, experiencing its effects was somehow wickedly exciting. I really shouldn't, she thought, it's against the law, but if I don't I'll seem like such a child to the others.

Renault had produced a silver lighter which matched the cigarette box, and had flicked the wheel. Flame burst into the air-flickering eerily in the darkness, making each of the six faces seem to be grotesquely satanic, as if this little circle was a cult of devil worshippers. Renault lit his muggle with the lighter and then passed it on to Barbara Davis, the flame still burning. Patty watched the girl light her cigarette, pass it on to Frank Harrel; she turned to Val again, having made up her mind to go through with it, after all, marijuana didn't make you unaware of what you were doing, she knew that much about it at least.

She said, "This… this is my first time." Her voice was bold. "You'll have to tell me what to do."

Val's face in the dancing light was surprised. "You really haven't turned on before, have you? You're really not kidding me."

"No, I'm not."

"Well, then, you just take a drag like you would on a regular cigarette," Val explained. "Hold the smoke in your lungs as long as you can, and then let it out. Slowly, very slowly. You drag in slowly, too. That's all there is to it."

Patty nodded, shivering with anticipatory nervousness. Finally, the lighter came to her and she fired the short brown cylinder which she had placed between her lips. She inhaled gently, as Val had instructed; the smoke had an odd but not at all unpleasant taste, although it was very hot curling into her lungs. She held it there bravely as she passed the lighter on to Val, holding it there for the count of ten and then releasing it. She tried a second inhalation, a third and a fourth; the smoke was not quite so hot now, actually very smooth, and she was able to hold it in her lungs for a longer period of time. The sweetish, almost cloying odor of the marijuana seemed to fill the room as each of the six people smoked, and clouds of smoke seemed to hang like a pall above their heads. The room was once again dark as Renault had extinguished the lighter.

Patty took another puff on her muggle, and Val leaned close to her. “How do you feel?" he asked.

"Fine," she said. "But I don't think I'm… turned on, or anything."

Val laughed softly. "Don't worry about that, honey. There's plenty of time." He chuckled again and, suddenly, he placed his hand carelessly on Patty's bare knee, just below the hem of her dress. He kneaded the smooth satiny flesh tenderly with his fingers.

Patty felt a momentary anger at this familiarity, but it passed almost as quickly as it had come. The thin cigarette seemed somehow to have dulled her basic inhibitions; Val's hand felt warm and right on her knee, and to take it away would be to take away the pleasant male touch on her flesh. There wasn't anything wrong with a man and woman being close on an occasion such as this one; in fact, she was really thankful for his attention as she ventured into mental areas heretofore self-forbidden.

Patty finished the cigarette, watching the way Val dropped the narrow remains and the ash into the little cup and then following suit. Almost immediately, Renault produced the cigarette box and the ritual was repeated. As she smoked her second reefer, Patty could feel a great peace take hold of her body, an ultimate relaxing of all her tensions, a complete abating of all the pressures of her world. She felt free and gentle, happy and responsive, and when Val moved closer to her, sliding his hand upward so that his fingertips were resting, caressing, on her soft inner thigh, a scant inch from her panty-covered pubic mound, she made no move to stop him. His touch felt so fine, so good… She leaned against him as though she had known him forever as she inhaled the sweet, pungent smoke, pressing her soft, pliant breast against his arm. He was so nice, she thought through her marijuana haze, such a nice, kind man…

The second marijuana cigarette was nothing but ash now, and moments later the ritual was repeated for a third time. Val's hand was stroking Patty's leg and thigh now, up and down, fingertips almost but not quite touching the soft silken crotchband of her panties. She was aware that her feminine sex juices had begun to flow, moistening the thin material between her legs, and that the first stirrings of sexual arousal were beginning to burn slightly in her stomach. Such a wonderful feeling, the marijuana and the passion comingling… She began to squirm her buttocks down very gently against the pillow as Val's hand teased its way up and down her naked thigh. She drew on her third reefer, and the faces of the others in the room no longer seemed like strangers to her.

They seemed soft and warm, like a close-knit family, in the glow of the lighter flame and in the pale moonlight from the French doors. She felt a need to take off her shoes and did so, with her left hand, wiggling her naked toes against the wonderful silky material of the pillow, squirming her buttocks down at the same time.

And then, suddenly, the man's fingers, next to her, reached her moist panties, brushing against the outside of the filmy material, tracing upward along her flimsily protected cuntal slit. She didn't jump or recoil from his touch, it felt so nice to be stroked that way, and as though in a dream she opened her legs wider to accept his caress, nuzzling protectively against him as they both smoked. Time seemed not to exist for Patty now, nothing seemed to exist except the great relaxed soft peacefulness that was her body, even her admitted arousal was soft, not at all overpowering. It was as if she could experience such feelings forever and not need the release of her passion, just float along on the tide of pleasantness forever and forever.

Val thought as he moved his middle finger up and down the drugged girl's wet silk-covered vagina; Holy Christ, she's really something! I only met her fifteen minutes ago, and here I am playing with her cunt! And what a nice hot little cunt it is too! There isn't going to be any problem throwing a fuck into this baby, no sir, and it's going to be one dandy fuck unless I miss my guess. Her first time with pot, eh? Beautiful, beautiful! She couldn't be reacting better if I'd planned it. And she'd been convinced that she wasn't turned on! Jesus, Jesus!

Carefully, afraid to break the spell, he insinuated his finger inside the tight elastic leg band of her panties now, drawing the material back over the deliciously wet juicy lips of her cunt, with his forefinger and then stroking the moist furrow with his middle finger, teasing upward along the soft hair-lined slit to explore the entire lubricated expanse. She was hot, all right, damned hot! He wormed his middle finger, just the tip, into her vagina and with a soft moan she squirmed her firm young buttocks down against the pillow pleasurably. He took the finger out then and found the erect knob of her clitoris; it seemed to vibrate with delirious passion against his digit and he tickled it with his fingernail, rubbing it back and forth, back and forth. She made a pleased, relaxed sound, wiggling her sensuous buttocks, her cunt seeming to open and close like the mouth of a fish in anticipation as he slowly played with her open clitoris.

Renault, you lecherous bastard, you really know how to invite the right women to these parties of yours! Val thought. A tender innocent-looking piece like this Patty Jennings is what I've been looking forward to all day, and you didn't disappoint me. Hell, you never do, Rick old man. That last party, with Patty's friend Marcia, was a beaut, too. I've never had a better fuck; that is, until now because this Patty is going to outdo her, I've got a feeling about that and my big, stiff cock is never wrong about such things.

Patty finished her third marijuana cigarette, as did the others, and through drug dimmed eyes she watched Rick Renault get slowly to his feet. As if slow-motion, she saw Barbara Davis take Renault's proffered hand and pull herself up. Renault stepped closer to her and his fingers nimbly unbuttoned two of the buttons on the front of her black dress. Patty saw that she was not wearing a bra. Then Renault reached inside the bosom of the dress and took one of Barbara's firm, darkly areoled breasts out and held it cupped in the palm of his hand. He said a few short phrases in a strange language which Patty did not understand, and then he lowered his head to the nude breast he held and took the erect nipple between his teeth, kissing it briefly, and then released it. Barbara stood robotlike as he did this, her lips slightly parted in passion, then he returned the breast inside the bodice of the garment.

He said then, "We shall leave you now. I wish you all pleasant happiness for the evening." He took the girl's hand again. "Come, Barbara, dear." She obeyed and together they walked to the door, and left the room.

Val whispered into Patty's ear, "He does that every time, kisses Barbara's boob that way. It has some kind of symbolic meaning in this Meditative Transmigration sect he belongs to."

"Mmmmm," Patty answered.

"We're supposed to do the same thing," Val said, breathing into her ear.

Patty nodded. How nice! she thought. Such a lovely gesture! She saw that Frank Harrel, across from her, was unbuttoning Marcia's garment, removing one of her slender, firm breasts and cupping it for a moment, as Renault had done with Barbara's, then took the rigid nipple between his teeth. Patty turned toward Val as he raised his left hand to her bosom, his right still working gently, wonderfully, between her legs, in her strongly excited cunt. Nimbly, he unbuttoned her dress, slid his hand around behind her and unhooked her bra with deft fingers. Then her breast was free and in his hand and he was lowering his head, taking her sensitive nipple into his mouth, nibbling on it, kissing it, running his tongue around it.

Oh God, it felt so wonderful, she didn't want him to stop! She gave herself up completely to the sensual arousal which was rapidly overtaking her being, staring across at Frank Harrel and Marcia. The man called Frank had bared both of Marcia's breasts now, and was alternately moving between them, taking each nipple in turn into his mouth. Patty saw, dimly, that Marcia's hand was on his fly, stroking gently the long thick bulge which showed there.

Val took his lips from Patty's nipple and whispered against her ear, still cupping the white succulent globe in his hand, “You have wonderful breasts, Patty. So soft and warm, and the nipples are delicious.”

She leaned hard against him, her brain swirling now with a soft, easy motion. She felt so unbelievably fabulous; she loved everybody in the whole world and especially Val Robbins, this strange perfect man who had kissed her breast and was playing so sensuously down between her open legs. It wasn't wrong that he was touching her and fondling her so intimately, no it wasn't wrong at all it was right, so right…

Larry!

Her husband's name popped through the drug haze in her brain then, and suddenly everything wasn't right any more. No, no, no! a warning bell chimed in her mind. You mustn't let this strange man touch you that way any more! You're married, a married woman in spite of all that's happened since yesterday. You can't allow any more subjugation of yourself, certainly can't passively allow your private parts to be touched by this stranger until the arousal you feel consumes your body completely and you end up allowing him to put his penis inside your vagina, to spew forth his sperm into your belly like your husband's own father did such a short time ago.

She pulled away from Val's hands suddenly, in a convulsive movement that slipped her breast free of his grasp, slipped his hand away from her lewdly excited cunt and out from beneath her skirt. She tried frantically to button her dress, succeeded in getting one of the buttons fastened.

Val was staring at her. "What's the matter, Patty?"

"Nothing, nothing!" she returned. She liked Val very much; he had been so nice to her, but she just didn't want him to touch her any more. "I… I feel like I need some fresh air.”

“Yes, I… I want to walk in the garden for awhile.”

Val thought to himself; Damn it, she's having some second thoughts, probably about her old man. I figured the pot to drive them all away. Well, she's still turned on, no doubt about that, and if I'm patient I'll still score, I'll still get into that warm, sweet pussy I've been playing…

He smiled gently at her. "I understand, honey," he said. "I'll walk with you. All right, Patty?"

"Yes," she responded slowly. "Yes, Val." She allowed him to take her hand, help her to her feet as he too rose. He put his arm about her waist, and she leaned gratefully against him, he was so nice, so kind, he just couldn't touch her any more, that was all, and together they went to the French doors. Val opened them and they stepped out into the balmy night, onto the patio there. They walked along a path through the oleanders and shrubbery, walking slowly.

Some of the marijuana fog seemed to lift from Patty's brain, but not enough so that she didn't enjoy the pressure of Val's strong arm around her waist, the comforting masculinity of his muscular body against hers. They walked for several minutes, and then Val stopped and turned toward her. He raised his hands to cup her face, looking tenderly into her eyes, and his face in the moonlight was so soft and kind… He kissed her then, gently, touching her lips with the tip of his tongue but not forcing it between them. Should she stop him from doing this too? she wondered dimly, but no a kiss was all right, his lips tasted so sweet and his tongue was so warm… no, this was all right just as long as he didn't.

"Are you feeling better now, Honey?" he asked her.

"Yes, Val, oh yes…" She clung to him, feeling the unwanted arousal begin to course through her again, feeling her nipples harden into diamond chips and her vagina begin to secrete lubricant once again. But it's wrong, wrong to feel this way while you're gone, Larry, Larry… no, it isn't really wrong when it feels so good… confused, I'm so confused…

"Let's go back to the house now, Patty," Val said soothingly. "Come on along."

"Yes," the young dazed girl answered, still confused and uncertain about anything. She leaned against him as he took her arm and led her back along the path.

They reached the patio and started toward the French doors. The moonlight shone through the glass, and Patty could see clearly inside. What she saw there made her stop abruptly, staring, clutching at Val's arm. "Oh God, Val, Marcia and Frank are…!” She stopped, swallowing hard, turning her face up to his.

"Yes," Val answered slowly. "I see them, Patty. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Beautiful?"

"Yes. Nudity and lovemaking are beautiful, don't you think?" His voice was soothing and intoning, almost hypnotic. "Soft and warm and beautiful, Patty."

"Yes…" She stared inside, listening as Val droned on behind her, telling her how wonderful the sight was, how beautiful, and as she continued to watch dazedly the actions of her married girl friend, Marcia and Frank Harrel on the study floor, she knew in her still fogged brain that the man behind her was right, that it was everything he was saying it was.

She could feel her juices flowing faster and faster as she walked forward trance like to the French doors, Val came up behind her, whispering, telling her to watch the beauty within, to get onto her knees and watch through the glass. She obeyed, sinking onto her knees on the cold patio tile, cupping her hands to her eyes as she stared through rising passion at the nakedly entwined couple ten feet away…

Chapter 4

Marcia lay spread-eagled on the cushions, completely naked, and Frank Harrel knelt between her widely spread legs. He ran his tongue slowly, teasingly, up and down her slender body, moistly sucking her heaving breasts and raising her nipples to cement hardness, then tracing a hot path down along the writhing flatness of her stomach while she rolled her head back and forth ecstatically, abandonedly.

Then Harrel dipped lower, scooting his legs back so that his face hung greedily over her nude thighs and pussy, and then he moved downward, his tongue sticking straight out like the beak of a giant predatory hawk, eager to dine on the tender hungry cunt squirming below. Marcia writhed beneath his flicking caress, her hand tangling in his long, black hair as she pulled his lips to her open vagina like a woman possessed…

Patty leaned forward on her knees, gripping the windowpane until her fingers ached. She could not move from the obscene revelry before her, for the sight of the man toying with the naked, squirming woman who was her best friend mesmerized her. She knew dimly she should turn away from the lewd and depraved sight, but she could not.

Behind her, Val lit a marijuana cigarette he'd taken from the box, puffed on it to make sure it was going, then pressed the brown papered reefer into Patty's unnerved lips. She drew deeply from habit, without hesitation, not knowing or even caring that it was more of the will-destroying drug. The sweet, acrid smoke curled up, taking with it the last of her mental revulsion and moral hesitations, and her head lightened and her eyes became lidded as each drag burned her lungs like searing fire. As the heated potion filled her body with full euphoria, she suddenly returned to the carnal scene before her with studied detachment, wickedly enjoying the view.

Marcia never looked better, she thought as she gazed with intoxicated enrapturement at the enchanting couple. Like a lamb in sacrifice, with the high priest, Frank Harrel, working her up to a fevered pitch of heavenly bliss. Marcia's glasslike eyes stared into the darkness as Frank placed himself below her rapidly rising and falling belly, his hands pressing the smooth skin of her thighs and his thumbs pressing the outer pink flanges of her cunt lips. Marcia gasped as he massaged her pubic area with his fingers, letting them crawl through her pubic hair and knead the resilient skin of her abdomen, parting the vaginal slit to expose the gaping hole of her excited young pussy. Patty wriggled closer, and strained to catch a glimpse of the dainty bud of her friend's clitoris, which was just visible as it throbbed into hardness above the stretched ring of her cuntal mouth.

Then Frank's head dropped again, his long wet tongue snaking out to tease the palpitating little button of raw nerves, flicking around the top of her blood rich slit. Marcia jerked from the electric contact and she clamped her legs like a steel vise around Frank's rotating face, her soft inner thighs corded with exertion, her hips slowly swaying in rhythm to his probing, slavering mouth. She was caught in a smoke-filled, lust perverted fit of sexual madness, and she raised her buttocks off the cushion to feel his sucking lips deeper against her vagina.

Patty gaped in disbelief as she watched Marcia twisting like a bitch in heat to the depraved licking of her loins, and she drew deeply on the cigarette, feeling the forbidden inhalations open her mind like the flowering of some exotic plant bud to the sun. Her own torso began to writhe involuntarily to the surrender she saw in the room, and she groaned in empathetic abandonment to the nerve-shattering sucking of Frank's mouth and lips. Val had moved directly behind the sexually mesmerized girl, and stretched over her, and she could sense his hot presence and fevered breath upon her as he pressed himself to her back and buttocks. His arms extended around her, unbuttoned the dress again, slid inside to tease her still-nude breasts, massaging and cupping in a circular motion to the same tempo as Frank was keeping on her girl friend, and Patty began to squirm, leaning back hard against him. Through the thin material of their clothes, she could feel the burgeoning stiffness of his cock as it swelled into erection, and it pressed through her dress into the crevice of her soft, yielding buttocks, the folds of her skirt grating her tiny, vulnerable anus. Warning spasms of pleasure rippled from her heated loins and up past her belly to the hardening nipples of her kneaded breasts.

The last vestiges of her defense broke into nothingness as the fourth reefer seized her mind and Val's hand left her breasts and began to fumble with the bodice of her dress. Slowly, ever so gently, Val undid all the buttons until the dress was open from neck to abdomen, her full, firm young breasts swaying free with passion, and as Val slipped his hands between the fabric and her hot skin once more, a cool rush of air blew by the breasts, causing her to gasp from the sudden iciness on her nipples. Then his fingers closed again over the resilient mounds, trapping the berries between thumb and forefinger, squeezing each engorged teat until an excruciating sensation made her dizzy from the pleasure. She opened her mouth and an involuntary sigh of ecstasy escaped from her throat, and she pushed still harder back against Val's barely covered cock, wiggling his hardness deeper into the crack of her contracting ass cheeks.

Patty still watched wide-eyed as Marcia and Frank passionately attacked each other. Frank worked his lips up Marcia's crawling body, slowly, then quickly, then pausing to flick at an especially sensitive spot, bringing further groans of delight and frustration from Marcia's clenched teeth. It was then that Patty first saw Frank's thick, hardened penis protruding from his crotch.

She sucked in her breath at the sight of his huge, magnificent organ. It looked like the shaft of a giant redwood tree, its blood enraged skin like burnt umber bark against the black forest of his pubic bush. Its enormously thick head paused over the slippery, saliva soaked vagina of Marcia, and Patty's impulsive thought was that it was going to ram immediately into her girl friend, but it did not. Instead he slowly slid all the way up her body and straddled her breasts, and the pressed balloons of flesh squeezed out from the sides of Frank's thighs like the cushions Marcia lay upon. The ramrod prick was but a scant few inches from Marcia's gasping mouth, its scarlet, rubbery tip oozing fluid with anticipation. The droplets sparkled as they dribbled down the cock and dropped upon Marcia's heaving neck. Then Frank turned slightly and reaching back behind his buttocks with a quick jerk of one hand, he shoved his middle finger deep up Marcia's widespread cunt, skewering her pink rimmed slit upon his palm. She spasmed as he rotated his finger in her, teasing the wet sensitive cavern of her vagina until she panted and groaned like a lost banshee to the lascivious plundering of her loins.

Patty could see how Marcia was trying to squirm from beneath Frank's torturous hold, but he clamped her to the cushions with his knees tightly around her arms and shoulders. A lewd sadistic grin lined his mouth as he reached with his other hand and stroked his penis, pulling back the foreskin to let the full, bloated head pop toward Marcia's open lips. Marcia leaned forward as though the cock was a life sustaining meal, the cords of her neck standing out to Patty's shocked view, and then her tongue darted out and she lapped the thin string of lubricant hungrily.

The muscles of Patty's own body were as tight as a bow string as she struggled with sympathy for Marcia's predicament. She reacted involuntarily to Val's maddening caresses, whimpering as he raised one arm, then the other, to remove the dress from her shoulders, drawing it back and over her buttocks until it lay pooled around her bare feet. His fingers moved down her spine then, around to her smooth, flat belly, up to her breasts again, and then to the elastic band of her virginal white panties. Val toyed with the nylon underwear for a moment, teasing the vee of her crotch and the secretion band around her pubic area. The hands curled under the wispy material and plunged downward toward her pubic triangle, fondling the moist, wet slit of her vulva, scraping with one nail the tantalizing protuberance of her clitoris, sending it springing upright for more. Patty groaned and quivered as the tight elastic opening of her cunt sent stabs of sexual frenzy enervating throughout her body. The Gorgon-sized monstrosity of his manhood was pressed like glue to the passion perspired crevice of her ass as though it had a life of its own, and she ground against it, imprisoned licentiously between it and the teasing fingers which were worming around deep in her clasping pussy.

Val began a gentle rocking thrust to which she responded in time, while Marcia finally jerked forward enough to make full contact with Frank's turgid cock-head. Patty contracted her throat, for she was certain that as Marcia tightened her lips like a rubber band around Frank she would choke and gag on the monstrous stump buried between her cheeks, but Marcia did not, sucking it voraciously as though she had waited all her life for this magnificent moment.

Frank, his eyes aglitter and his mouth wide with beautiful agony, raised himself over the suckling female, and he began to pump his cock cruelly in her mouth like a cow offering her udder to a calf. He held Marcia's hair and his expression was one of horrid, ecstatic delight which Patty had never dreamed to be possible. Marcia, her lips puckering elastically with all their might gnawed and nibbled obscenely, and the raw sight made Patty lick her own lips, her tongue circled nervously and her aroused pussy drenched Val's hand with its sticky secretions.

Val had seen Frank's fat penis fuck deeper into Marcia's mouth, and his own drubbing instrument slithered inside his pants, bursting for release. It was as exciting to him as it was to her, and he leaned forward and whispered in Patty's ear: "I've got to have you… now!"

"Oh no! Oh please no, not here, not now!" she moaned between clenched teeth, but she was totally unable to stop her body's reaction against his teasing machinations. Her buttocks continued to rock back and forth as the lewd words he had spoken filtered through her drug-hazed brain and excited her more than ever.

“I'm going to fuck you, and we'll watch at the same time!”

She whimpered with abject surrender, her muscles like so much putty as he pushed her forward, her face pressed tightly to the window in front of her. She shuddered as Val drew her panties down over the smooth, white cheeks of her ass to hang uselessly down around her thighs. The air once more washed her tender skin, and she blushed with sudden shame, for her whole rear end was naked and exposed to the lascivious gaze of this wanton stranger, a lewd invitation to whatever debauched game he wished to play on her. A final, dim thought of her husband, Larry, flickered unevenly through her fogged mind, and then she heard the sharp, metallic rasp of Val's fly as he pulled down his zipper.

"Aaaahhh," Val sighed. "That's better!" His long, lust-hardened cock burst from the pants into welcomed freedom, waving in the night like some medieval battle standard. He dropped to his knees, not wishing to give Patty the chance to reconsider, and he rubbed his face into her buttocks, screwing his slender nose between the cheeks to touch the tantalizing nakedness of her ass. His tongue snaked out and licked moistly the entire length of her sweat dampened loins, then upwards to flick around the tiny puckered sphincter muscle of her anus.

"Ooooooh," Patty breathed as the strange unknown lappings tickled her nude flesh, teasing her asshole like some nether-world demon. She jerked back upon the wet, sensuous probe, revolving her buttocks in tiny circles so as to completely sink in the lubricious rape of her loins. She had never known this before… not even with her husband, who never touched her rectum, nor with Marcia… and she knew it was wicked, deliciously evil, like nothing else in the world. She relished the lewd tingling joy of Val's tongue convoluting around her bowels until she thought her whole body was going to explode in a thousand fiery fragments.

Val chuckled obscenely and stopped. Patty clenched the muscles of her buttocks with a sudden fear of what was to happen next, and then she sensed Val's rising and standing over her, his elongated penis quivering along the tiny bone ridge of her coccyx, its head just touching her quivering flesh. Then he dipped slightly and the monstrous member pressed into the soft, yielding crevice of her buttocks where seconds ago his tongue had played so deliriously. She drew away, but it followed, and her forehead was right against the glass, making it impossible for her to move forward any more. There was nowhere else to go! Her cringing body was trapped between the window and the searching, prodding monster behind her. It nestled in her anus, and she realized what it and Val wanted of her.

"No… not that… don't put it in there, Val," she pleaded, "It's too big! You'll tear me open!"

He did not heed her cries. Instead he dug his hands into her exposed thighs and gripped her harshly, his fingers clawing her soft white flesh. "Reach behind and put it in," he snapped. "Put it in that sweet little asshole of yours!"

"Oh no," she gasped. “I just can't!”

"Put it in, I say!” he commanded again, and he squeezed the globes of her buttocks until she groaned from the pain. In desperation she reached behind her as he had directed and closed her fingers around his rockhard cock, feeling it throbbing in lewd anticipation.

"That's it! That's it! Now in your asshole!”

Patty trembled from the man's vile words. The huge, lusting bulbous head of his cock began to slowly, tantalizingly work its insidious way between the puckered ring of her rectum, and as much as the first tiny exploratory thrust hurt, she still managed to hold his bludgeon still at the defenseless door of her backside, gritting her teeth from the pain she realized would be forthcoming.

Oh God it's going to hurt! When he shoves his gigantic member to the hilt up my rectum, it's going to hurt terribly. But I don't care! Oh God, I want him to! I want him to tear the last orifice of my virginity from me! Make me the complete slut I know I am inside! "Oh yes," she screamed at Val, "Fuck me! Fuck me there, darling!"

And then she gasped, her thoughts shut off as a violent ripple of pain shot through her, for Val, lust maddened by her sudden and complete surrender to his desires, pounded forward, worming his hardened cock deep into the warm rubbery depths of her resisting anus, burying it to the base of his testicles in one bold stroke. He clutched her buttocks harder, and still jerked deeper into the forbidden treasures of her backside. He could feel the tip of his cock hit her bowels, forcing her face harder into the glass in front of her. He began heaving with long sawing motions, the smooth rubbery walls of Patty's lewdly exploited anal passage expanding before the alien invasion.

"AAAAgggggghhhh!" Patty growled. "Oh Val, Oh God! Have mercy! It hurts! It hurts horribly!"

"Relax… it'll start feeling better in just a little bit!"

Numbly, Patty tried to obey, but she felt as if she were on fire inside. The great penis penetrated her like a giant drilling rig, tunneling deep into unknown rockhard flesh. She struggled and swung her buttocks in a vain attempt to find a more comfortable position, but she was a hopeless prisoner, stuck on the lust-hardened cock like a butterfly on a pin. Her widely stretched anal walls cringed with the unaccustomed size of the instrument that seemed imbedded to her belly, and she moaned, her mouth opening and closing to the sensational torture.

The glass fogged from her hot breath, but still she could see Marcia's soft lips clasping hungrily on the turgid bronzed cock surging into her mouth. The thin, ribbed line of her lips clung to it as though it were held there by some magic clamp, and Frank grinned lewdly above her as he fucked her mouth like another vagina. Marcia's lust contorted features swirled around his pistoning shaft, sucking and licking as though she were devouring a lollypop, and somehow she had freed both hands from her sides and was masturbating his cock at the base, entwining her fingers around the balls and pubic hair and beating a tattoo of orgiastic rhythm as she demonically sucked him to orgasm. Patty could see white, hot seminal fluid drip from the corners of her mouth and dribble in tiny rivulets down her hollowed cheeks, a transparent sign of the extent of Marcia's revelation in Frank's cruel, inhuman subjugation of her open mouth.

Behind her, Val gasped and panted with delight and began to rock rhythmically in and out of the agonized anal confines. His prediction started to come true, for as her rectum accustomed itself to the gigantic pole of hardened flesh it housed, she was overwhelmed with a sudden burst of desire. She realized that it felt good, being fucked back there… that sodomy was one perversion that she wanted more of, and her head flailed from side to side as she buffeted harder and harder against Val's hot, throbbing penis. His bloated testicles slapped resoundingly against the passion drenched lips of her vagina below, and again she looked dazedly at the depraved sucking of Frank's cock by her girl friend through the window. Coupled with the new thrill of her own ravishment, the sight sent further familiar thrills of wickedness coursing through her body, and she undulated her buttocks faster and faster, lasciviously rotating in time to the thundering penis.

Stooped over her animal positioned body, Val gritted his teeth and fucked in and out with long, hard lunges that seemed to receive their momentum from the very balls of his feet. A feeling of exhilarating power rippled through his limbs as he gripped her hips still harder, forcing her into utter total abandonment to the mighty battering ram which hammered relentlessly within her. He could feel the fleshy ridges of her rectal passage rub and give way before his cock, and he pressed even further, causing a groan of agony from Patty's tortured throat as she struggled helplessly beneath his mastery of her helpless mind and body.

He stretched the quivering moons of her ass wide with his fingers and looked down with a satisfied leer, entranced by the pink folds of wet, glistening flesh clinging tightly to his rampant tool. He levered forward suddenly and stuck his sensitive, engorged head another half inch, the resistance in her ass so great as to make Patty squeal like a stuck pig. He knew she had never been fucked this way or so deep before and he routed his prick head inside her, enlarging the anus and feeling the squeezing clasp of her tightly resisting back passage grip his rigidity better than any cunt he'd ever had. His balls filled and filled again with overflowing loads of hot, stewing cum juice, almost ready to squirt like a giant, erupting enema inside her.

Patty's eyes became glazed with the lost fog of passion. She tried to spread her buttocks wider, moving her feet as best she could, stretching the flimsy panties still clinging to her thighs apart with difficulty. The obscene coolness of Val's zipper pressed tightly to her inner thighs, and the shrubbery of black pubic hair at the base of his cock brushed tantalizingly against the soft flesh of her ass. She dropped to her elbows, lifting her buttocks higher to his driving prick, and her breasts squashed flat against the cold surface of the patio tile. As she rotated her upper torso, her distended nipples grazed against the material of her bra and dress, causing them discomfort, but they were like masochistic machines which gleaned pleasure from the sadistic stinging. Val's tunneling instrument grazed against the walls of her intestines, its spongy head probing deeper and deeper where no man had ever fucked her before.

In her euphoric state of sexual saturation, Patty had completely lost her feelings of humiliation at being treated like a whore, prostrating herself on her knees before the majesty of Val's sceptrelike cock as he screwed her in the asshole, venting his lust upon her naked bowels. Her ruined panties hung tattered, around her legs like a scarred battle flag lowered to surrender, soft, silky panties which she had hoped to wear for her husband when he finally came home to her. All that mattered to her was the sodomistic obscenities which coursed through her like fire out of control. She wanted Val's cock inside her, wanted to be subjected to the lewd demands placed on her pleasure sated flesh.

Marcia was still before her eyes sucking at Frank's expanding penis like a wild woman. She scratched her fingernails lightly over his testicles and reached up and probed briefly the brown, ribbed vale of his anus, then retraced her path along his quivering inner thighs. She continued to suck Frank in rhythmic convolutions, swirling her tongue maddeningly over his blood infested head, nuzzling the long underside with her lips as he plunged and stroked like a demon gone wild into her lewdly ovaled mouth.

It was obvious how Frank enjoyed the ministrations she was lavishing on his bloated member. He ogled with sadistic interest as she sucked him; the soft, pink skin of her lips puckering outward and then back in as she pumped the length of his penis. The sight seemed to increase his arousal and his loins tensed and jerked downwards over her face, his fleshy expanse disappearing with his hard thrust so that a bare thin band of cock showed glistening with saliva between her lips.

Her tongue worked around his rod with nerve-shattering lust, like a thing gone wild, and Patty could see Marcia's cheeks boil with the hungry convulsions of tongue and penis. Marcia was completely gone, her concentration as full and intense as a hungry child sucking on its mother's breast. Her breasts heaved and danced around her chest, adding to the sensual picture Patty viewed.

Patty could not hear Frank, but he was mouthing words which seemed to say: "Suck it! Suck it!" over and over like a broken record. Marcia slaved below, her body glistening from the effort in postules of lust-sweat, and Frank groaned and shoved down upon her face, his tongue licking his lips in anticipation of the final maddening release he knew to be soon coming.

Dimly Patty realized that he was going to cum in her mouth, and when he did, she would surely struggle. His hot surging sperm would hopelessly overwhelm her throat and stomach and she would be flooded by the torrent. He'd kill her, she knew it!

And as horrified she watched, Frank jerked back, releasing his penis from the warm folds of Marcia's lips, and he held the quivering erectile, its angry red glans a scant two inches from the still hungry, still yearning mouth. Then, as if the gates of a giant dam itself had opened, a spewing, pummeling flow of hot, white semen jetted forth from its tip, a small river of warm milk which arched like a rainbow and shot straight into the waiting cauldron of Marcia's cheeks. The thick, bursting squirts streamed continuously, filling her mouth to the brim and she swallowed voraciously, attempting not to lose one precious drop. The hot, virile fluid slid down her gulping throat, her Adam's apple bobbing like a yo-yo gone crazy and the penis kept ejaculating into her face. Some of the cum missed and rolled around her lips and dribbled down her cheeks and against the cushions, and more flowed against her nose, into her dilated nostrils, but she took no notice. Patty groaned at the obscene sight of her girl friend inflicting herself with the humiliation of swallowing Frank's gushing sperm, as his cock continued its monumental outburst of strings of seminal fluid which connected his penis with her face like a giant white spider web.

As Patty watched, Marcia desperately lifted her head off the cushions to take Frank's rapidly deflating penis between her lips, and then Patty felt Val's hands leave her hips as he arched his back in a wild animalistic cry of lust and then he crushed forward, the weight of his leaden cock ramming itself to its hilt. She gave a sharp howl of pain, her legs flung wide to alleviate some of the hurt, her toes digging fruitlessly into the patio. Then she tightened her buttocks together in a desperate, but useless attempt to keep his pounding cock from tormenting her deeper.

"Come on," he hissed, "Back more, shove back more!"

"I can't, Val. Oh, its too much!" Tears of agony stained her face, washing the carefully applied makeup down her cheeks. Yet her whole body yearned for fulfillment, and she twitched and wiggled and groaned with abandonment, welcoming the delicious torture his passion hardened rod was giving. He sank into her again, and her face contorted with cries of ecstasy.

"AAAggggggghhhh!" she groaned, and Val took the swelling, writhing cheeks of her buttocks again and pulled her tightly back to him. She raised them at the same time so that the smooth, now wet folds of her rectum held him tightly until she could feel every parcel of his rigid column. She moaned incoherently and capitulated to the wonderfulness of madness she'd never known before. The lure of the flesh was a drug upon her mind, as much a drug as the marijuana cigarettes she'd smoked. Her fogged brain reeled pagan debauchery and she screwed her ass tightly back against his driving pelvis and his balls pressed hard against the wet, wide-stretched perforation of her vulva, and his soft, hair-covered skin prodded teasingly against her tiny, wounded anus, sending shivers of lewd enchantment surging through her raging nerve ends.

There was nothing left in this world; no tomorrow, no yesterday, no Larry. Nothing except the deep, dark hole of her lust and flesh of this stranger's instrument, and the smack of his belly flattening her ass cheek with each powerful lunge of his hips.

"Ooooohh, yes… yes… yes!" she mewled. "Harder! Harder! Harder! Fuck me harder in the asshole! Give it to meeee!" she begged uncontrollably, gasping at her approaching orgasm. She was no longer human as she twisted and contorted beneath her wildly bucking rider, her legs splayed wide apart, her ass blush-red from the naked intrusion upon it. She was white-hot, her head and long reddish-blonde hair tossing wildly, her mouth open with abandon. Her legs quivered as she spiraled her ravenously hungry anus back up against Val's slippery, plunging shaft. Tiny devils danced relentlessly through her blood, probing her tissues and marrow with the fiery tips of their three-pronged forks, and her rectum seethed for release. She was seconds from cumming, and the sweat poured from her pores and into the hollowing of her back as she strove wildly for her conclusion.

And then… it happened!

Val clamped his mouth shut and gritted an oath through his firm jaw. His hot sperm gurgled like the backing up of a great reservoir of hot seething lava, and then jetted inside her belly in vast, gushing torrents. His cock jerked and bolted like a crazed stallion, oozing and pumping and shooting the orgiastic liquid in seeming bucketfuls from his vengefully emptying balls into her warm, moist anus. She gripped her buttocks together so that the tight, elastic ring which encircled Val's throbbing penis would hold the depleting seminal fluid. Finally the pouring turned into a thin trickle, and she suddenly became aware through her own passion that his climax had passed, and his penis began to deflate as he groaned out his contentment from the release.

"Nooo!" she wailed. “Nooo, darling, don't stop! Don't pull out! I want to cummmmm!” she sobbed, frustration making her beg and pound her feet on the tile. She squeezed her buttocks harder against his softening penis, her cum but an infinitesimal second away, and she cried out to Frank to shove, to pump, to use his rapidly deflating cock for one last lunge.

Val needed no inducement. His heavy body dropped down on her ravaged form like a sack of cement, smashing her fully to the patio, his still half-rigid cock pushing the now widely stretched and unresisting rectum before it in rippling waves of cruel passion.

It was all that was needed for Patty. She yelled from his brutal impalement and surprise action, but as her greedy flesh clasped around the cudgel hungrily, his balls smacking her hair-covered cunt, she groaned with relief at the filling of her ass, and she groveled pitifully as the expanding cock again dug into her like a jackhammer.

"I'm… I'm cuuuummmmiiinnnggggg!" Her hands reached behind and stretched the moons of her buttocks wide, skewering her ass up against Val's cock in a maniacal, frenzy, wanting him deeper and deeper in her wide-splayed hole. His cum dribbled down the split and mingled with her shooting vaginal juices and drooled over his swinging balls as they rubbed against her crotch. Bright flashes filled the sky as Patty continued to grunt out her climax, her orgasm releasing more fluids which rivered their way down to flow with the rest of the wetness. She bounced her ass cheeks and threw her head from side to side, and then she fell flat, spent and almost comatose. She never felt Val's cock slip from her rectum, all wilted and brown like a wilted head of lettuce, or saw the lewd, satiated grin on his face.

Neither did she see the slender shadow which was beside the oleander bushes, next to the patio. She would have cared about the dark figure which lurked unobtrusively, for she had certainly never anticipated being seen in such a lewd, depraved act that she had just been a part of. But the night hid the man from her eyes, and he had wisely kept silent, but his eyes fairly glowed with lust and the saliva edged from his panting jaws and pooled upon the ground.

He rubbed his hands together, then as Patty burst apart with her climax and collapsed to the tile, he turned and with a dry, quiet chuckle walked back into the house.

Yes, he thought, that was a fine piece out there, a very fine piece of ass. I'd like to add that trophy to my collection. I'd like to feel her sweet young lips clamped around my cock, and see her suck me to cumming. Yes, and I'll have just that… or my name isn't Rick Renault the Third!

He wiped his wet chin and smoothed out the smog-gray mustache which lined his upper lip. He thought about ways of seducing the girl, turning over in his mind a thousand plots which the years of venal skullduggery had filed away. Then he hit upon one of the simplest, most foolproof of them all.

"All I need is a pretext to get her here," he reasoned to himself as he strode quickly to the bedroom where the guests' coats and belongings were located. "Now I believe her purse is in here. Hmm…

It took but one moment for the deftly fingered man to locate Patty's purse among the effects, and after making sure nobody was around, he took the purse and rifled it. He held up a small, gold compact, heavily scrolled and very beautiful. He opened it and read the inscription:

"'To my darling wife with eternal love, Larry.'" He smiled at the romantic thought. "Isn't that sweet of him?" he said. "Well, Larry, you don't know it, but your generosity is going to help me debauch your wife. You're going to betray her. Tomorrow!"

Renault laughed gleefully at the ironic thought, and pocketing the compact he put everything back as it was and left the room to rejoin the sleeping Barbara Davis…

Chapter 5

Patty was watching a game show on television when the telephone rang at one o'clock the next afternoon. She was drowsing in one of Marcia's easy chairs, not particularly concentrating on the flickering TV screen. She hadn't slept at all last night, simply lying awake in the large double bed next to Marcia, staring at the darkened ceiling and reliving in her mind the jumbled events of the evening… the marijuana, the lewd shameless orgy she had witnessed and been part of. The entire time, she had tried to make herself feel low, demeaned, the worst kind of harlot, "A gutter whore" as Tom Jennings, her father-in-law, had called her, but she had felt nothing. It was as if that evening, and all that had happened in that evening, had purged her of all guilt, all shame, all inhibitions yes, even all emotion. She was barren inside now, somehow void of any normal reactions to the totally alien acts which she had perpetrated upon her body and upon her mind in the past two days. She was a shell, a lump of clay, no longer even certain about her previously desperate love for her husband, Larry Jennings; no longer even certain that she cared for him at all, or that she cared for anything. She had moved about the house this morning in a kind of listless daze, causing Marcia to ask if there was anything the matter, answering that there wasn't, she was just not feeling too well, but nothing serious. Marcia had clucked sympathetically, smiled tenderly at her, and left for work. Patty had spent the morning just sitting in front of the television, staring at the rectangular tube, not thinking about anything really, her mind blank.

Now, as she passed slowly toward the hallway telephone to silence its insistent ringing, she was still not thinking, still not reacting. She was only existing.

She picked up the receiver and said hello, and a familiar male voice said, "Is this Patty? Patty Jennings?"

"Well, good afternoon," the voice said, and she recognized it then as belonging to Rick Renault, the graying, leathery-skinned man who had given the party the previous night. "How are you… feeling today, my dear?"

"Just fine," Patty answered automatically and without emotion.

"I'm glad I found you home," Renault said.

“My houseboy found something while he was cleaning up this morning and turned it over to me. I believe it belongs to you."

"What is it?"

"A gold compact," Renault told her. "It is inscribed 'To my darling wife with eternal love, Larry.' Your husband's name is Larry, is it not, my dear?"

“Yes. Yes, it is."

"It must have fallen from your purse somehow last evening. I'm sure you would like to have it back, and I thought that if you weren't doing anything this afternoon you might like to drop by and pick it up."

"Well…" Patty began, and then, "I'm afraid I don't have any way to get to your home…”

"If you would like to take a cab," Renault said, "I'll be more than happy to pay for it."

Patty considered. Why not? she thought, disinterested one way or the other. She didn't really feel much like sitting here in this lonely duplex, waiting for Marcia to come home from work, waiting for night to come, and night to turn into another day, and then into another night, and then into… Oh God, it was all so futile and useless; life was futile and useless, it seemed. It was really funny, she reflected, how a person can change so drastically in so short a period of time…

"Yes," she said at length, "I'd like to come out and pick up the compact, Mr. Renault."

"Rick, please," Renault said smoothly. "I'll send the cab for you directly, my dear."

She hung up and returned to the living room and stared at the television. She thought about changing out of the thin sweater and short skirt she wore, putting on the bra and panties she did not now have on beneath them, and perhaps a dress or something more appropriate for calling, but she didn't move from the chair. The social amenities, proper appearances, how foolish and unimportant they seemed to her now!

The cab arrived ten minutes later, honking its horn out front. Patty went out and got into the back seat, and it seemed that she had just closed the door when they were pulling up before the Renault mansion in St. Francis Woods. The driver tipped his cap, smiling, as he stepped out and opened the door for her; she only nodded perfunctorily and started up the winding red-brick path toward the wide oak front door of the dwelling.

Renault himself answered her ring. He was dressed in a mock turtleneck shirt and dove-gray slacks that matched his precise mustache and wavy hair, and he was smiling charmingly. "Come in, my dear," he said, taking her hand. "You look lovely, today."

"Thank you," she replied, knowing that she did not look lovely, that she only looked tired and harried and defeated. She allowed him to lead her along the marbled hallway, into the study where she had seen Marcia and Frank Harrel orally fucking the night before. The French doors were closed, the drapes drawn, but she was able to look through them in her mind to see the patio where she had permitted Val Robbins to mercilessly pillage her anal passage; and make her enjoy it, she thought perfunctorily. The study itself was very dark, and she noticed without really seeing then that a large 8-millimeter movie projector on a metal stand sat off on one side of the leather couch, and a wide viewing screen had been set up directly in front of it.

Renault smiled at her in his disarming way as they entered and he closed the door, closing off the light from the hallway. The room's only illumination was from a hammered curio lamp which sat on a table near the projector. Renault walked to the table and picked up the gold compact Larry had given her as a birthday present while they were still engaged, and brought it to her, saying, "There you are, my dear. I even had the houseboy polish it for you."

“You're very kind,” Patty said. Her tone was mechanical.

"Not at all," Renault beamed. “Now then, would you care for a drink? I have some fine imported brandy from France, or some excellent Scotch.”

“No, I don't think so.”

Renault steered her gently toward the couch.

"I have something else, then, which you might enjoy," he said. He waited until she had seated herself, sitting rather primly on one of the cushions, and then he moved away, only to return moments later with the same sculptured silver cigarette box he had passed around last evening. He flipped the top open, extending the box to her.

"These are Acapulco Gold, my dear, the finest quality marijuana you can buy. I only use them on, ah, somewhat special occasions."

Patty stared into the box with a faint revulsion. She was about to decline his offer, tell him to take the marijuana cigarettes away, but then something strange and perverse seized hold of her. A part of her brain recalled the pleasant, euphoric feeling the grass had induced in her the previous night, the total relaxation she had experienced, and suddenly she wanted one of the little brown weeds; perhaps it would snap her out of her abject fatalism, at least momentarily, give her a moment's respite from the terrible, utter feeling of desertion, of emptiness which was now consuming her body and her very essence.

She reached out and selected one of the cigarettes, placing it between her lips. Renault smiled, moistening his own lips, touching his gray mustache with the tips of his fingers. He produced a gold lighter, snapped it open and flicked the flint wheel; flame burst upward and he held it to the tip of the cigarette. Patty sucked the sweet, hot smoke deep into her lungs, held it there, released it slowly the way she had been taught the night before. Then she expelled it, inhaled again, repeating the process.

Renault sat down beside her and lit one of the muggles for himself. He inhaled deeply, watching Patty covetously out of the corner of his eye. They sat in silence, smoking in the darkened room, and as the brown cylinder burned down almost to her fingers, to nothing more than a thin ash, Patty began to experience a certain diminishing of her depression. She was feeling better now, yes, she was feeling much better… but not quite good enough. She turned to Renault, smiling a little. "Would it be all right if I had another, Rick?"

"Of course, my dear," Renault said with solicitous enthusiasm. He opened the box again, waiting until she had taken another marijuana cigarette from inside, and then lit it with his lighter.

When that second muggle was nothing but dead ash, Patty was feeling buoyant, almost happy, almost alive again. She closed her eyes, leaning back against the pliant cushions of the couch. She began to giggle softly, for no apparent reason, luxuriating in the coolness of the leather against her neck, beneath her hands. She said between the soft girlish sounds, "You're a very nice man, do you know that, Rick? You really are a very nice man to make me feel this good when I was feeling so bad."

"Thank you, my dear," Renault said. "But why were you feeling so bad?"

"It's a long story," she told him. "A long, long story. I'll tell you about it sometime. But not now, okay?"

"Okay."

"You're a very nice man," she repeated through her rising haze. "I like you, Rick."

He touched her hand, and his touch seemed somehow to cause little tingles of electricity to course up along her arm. She could feel a warmth growing in her belly, and she knew that it was the beginnings of sexual arousal, unwanted arousal that she could not stop. She had a sudden, desperate urge to run, to get out of there, out of that house, away from this man, but then the urge passed and she felt good and warm again, letting the prurient sensations drift downward into her vagina and begin the first flowings of her feminine juices from her naked crotch beneath the short skirt.

Renault continued to stroke her hand, moving closer to her on the cushions until his leg was pressed against hers. He said in a soft, husky voice, "Would you like to see some movies, Patty?"

"Movies?" she asked, her eyes still closed, feeling her nipples harden beneath the thin sweater.

"Yes," Renault said. "Very special movies. Very special movies, indeed."

"What are they about?"

"About love," Renault said. "About love and fulfillment in strange new ways."

"Ummmm!" Patty said. "Yes, that sounds nice!"

"Shall I show them, then?"

"Yes, please do."

Renault released her hand and stood up. Patty opened her eyes, watching dreamily as he moved to where the projector sat. The film was already threaded, ready to be shown, and Renault reached down to flick off the curio lamp, plunging the room into immediate darkness; then he put on the projector, and a square of light danced onto the screen in front of the couch, the projector making a pleasant whirring sound in Patty's ears.

After a moment, a large, oak-paneled bedroom, in full rich color, appeared on the screen. At first it seemed empty, but then a young girl with short raven hair came into view, completely nude, walking slowly toward a wide, turned-down king-size bed in the center of the room. Patty, watching phantasmagorically, marveled at the girl's full, globular breasts, the nipples a dark, rich color against their still darken areoles. As she lay down on the double bed, Patty could see that her pubic mound was covered with a dark, thick thatch of curling down and when she opened her legs in an attitude of complete relaxation, Patty's eyes focused directly on the pink, wetly glistening folds of her fluted vaginal lips with their secret, fully erect clitoris.

She's already aroused, Patty thought, she's very excited. She felt her own juices still flowing, lubricating her entire vaginal slit now, forming little wet pools on the slick leather of the couch beneath her; she squirmed her buttocks against the yielding cowhide, feeling her skirt slide up and the backs of her naked thighs come into contact with the coolness. Dimly, from somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice seemed to be trying to tell her that what she was seeing was not an ordinary cinematic film, was in fact one of those "blue movies" her absent husband had told her about once, the kind they showed at stag parties and smokers, the kind that depicted, in great detail, all manner of lewd and perverted acts. But somehow, the voice never penetrated any further into her conscious mind than that first dim whispering; the increasing arousal of her own body brought about by the marijuana and now the sight on the screen of the young, nubile girl's nudity and the nearness of Rick Renault were all that mattered.

Patty felt Renault slide over next to her, taking her hand in his and putting his leathery face close to hers. His breath was hot and smelled of mouthwash and faintly of sen-sen. He began to stroke her hand rhythmically now, up and down, up and down, and Patty felt her nipples harden into granite chips beneath her sweater.

On the screen, the young girl began to slowly undulate her buttocks, her eyes tightly closed, her mouth slightly parted. She's thinking about her lover, Patty thought hazedly. She's thinking about him making love to her, kissing her and putting his huge penis into those sweetly parted young cunt lips of hers…

The rise and fall of the girl's firm, erect breasts increased with her excitement, with the vision she was experiencing in her mind, and her hips began to rotate faster and faster on the bed. One of her slim white hands left the spread beside her and began to slowly, teasingly, massage her own breasts, squeezing the berrylike nipples with tantalizing movements of her thumb and forefinger. She continued this rubbing, teasing motion for a long moment and then she moved her hand away from her breasts and down through her dark silky pubic fleece, placing the palm flat against her abdomen with the fingers splayed wide in her crotch, playing in the lust-dripping furrow, tickling the throbbing phallus of her clitoris with her middle finger and then sliding it slowly, down to the entrance to her vaginal chamber, dipping it inside, swirling it around inside her deliciously oozing cunt.

Patty's own hips seemed to be moving in time to the girl's and when she felt one of Renault's hands cease its stroking, pull away, and then return moments later to place another of the heady cigarettes between her lips, she did not protest. He lighted it and she sucked slavishly the sick, oddly sweet smoke full into her lungs, held it, exhaled, sucked again, held it… The colors of the movie seemed to inexplicably brighten, to become vividly and richly beautiful, adding perspective to the scene she was witnessing, making the girl seem to be in the very room with them. Patty's own sexual fervor, not intense, almost overpowering, grew attuned to the girl's, so that her hips were flailing in the same mad fervor of motion; she wanted to reach down, touch her own cunt, her own clit, but there was no need for that, no, because Renault's hand was on her leg now, moving upward insinuatingly toward her naked, unprotected pussy! She drew more of the smooth, hot smoke into her lungs, tensing her body, watching the girl on the screen masturbate, waiting for Renault's upward moving fingers to come in contact with her cunt. And then they did, and she heard him gasp as he discovered for the first time that she wasn't wearing any panties. His fingers, crab-like, seized the soft hairlined objective which he sought, digging into the moist warm flesh, finding her clit, rubbing it maddeningly as the girl in the film was rubbing hers. Patty felt delicious waves of passion flood through her at Renault's touch, and she squirmed downward on the cushion, trying to move her insatiable pussy closer to his probing digits. His other hand had left her hand and forearm now and was snaking up across her belly, under the thin sweater, searching out and finally grasping one of her warm, spongy breasts. His breath burst out from between his lips in a ragged gasp, blowing into her ear, sending little ripples of excitement down along her neck. He teased the nipple, rolling it back and forth as he was doing to her clit..

This is wrong, she thought, this is terribly wrong, this man is old enough to be my grandfather! But she made no move to stop his ravagement of her flesh, enthralled by the rapacious lust which had seized control of her being, by the swirling dreaminess of the muggles she had smoked. She sucked in more of the marijuana smoke, feeling the heat of the flame against her lips as it burned down all the way but not caring, reveling in the wonderful, euphoric, aroused state which she was in.

Suddenly, on the screen, just as the young girl seemed at the very point of climax, her hips lashing the bed with insane fury, her fingers working like some maniacal instrument of self-inflicting torture in her open, widespread cunt, a second girl appeared in the view of Patty and Renault. She too was nude, a tall buxom redhead with freckled white skin and large, almost pendulous breasts and a sensuous triangle of sparse pubic hair that was an almost carroty red color, much brighter than Patty's reddish-gold triangle. The redhead walked very slowly toward the girl on the bed, her eyes fastened on the manipulations of her finger in her cunt She sat down beside the young girl, heavily on the bed, and the girl abruptly ceased her frantic climb toward release, her eyes flying open to stare in what seemed to be utter horror at the redhead. She tried to scuttle away on the bed, but the redhead caught her arm and held her, smiling lewdly, saying something to her in what Patty thought dimly was probably a soothing tone. After a moment, the young girl nodded convulsively, and the redhead smiled again and then stretched out full on the bed, opening her slender legs wide to expose her pink little cuntal passage, fringed with the carroty hair, secreting little rivulets of her juices which moistened and sheened the petal-like folds of her pussy. The young girl moistened her lips, looking a little frightened, hesitating; but the redhead urged her on with assuring motions, and finally the girl moved downward on the bed, climbing over between the redhead's widely spread legs. The angle of the camera switched, moved in from the side very close to the girl who was licking her lips with her long pink tongue again, her raven head poised over the flaming slit. The redhead arched her hips, drawing her legs up, opening wider her glistening vagina-and suddenly, the girl's head dipped, dipped hungrily into the moist waiting furrow, the long pink tongue snaking out to flick inside the gently throbbing mouth, lick up along the cuntal lips to locate the large, distended clit. The girl took the miniature phallus between her short, sharp white teeth and began to nibble it as if it was a piece of birthday candy, her eyes squeezed tightly shut and her fingers digging into the redheaded girl's upper thighs and pelvis. The redhead flailed her head from side to side with wild abandonment, totally lost now in the salacious lesbian suckings of the young girl in her tremulous, burning crotch.

I wish it was my cunt, I wish it was mine! Patty's drug-fogged brain thought. I wish she was licking and sucking my pussy the way Marcia licked and sucked it the other night, I wish I was that redhead and that Marcia was that young girl… Suddenly her mouth had opened and the same things she was thinking were put to voice, sounding strange and distant in her ears, "I wish it was my cunt, I wish she was licking my cunt, oh God how I wish I she was licking my cunt!"

Renault's hands ceased their pluckings at her crotch and tits, and she felt him shudder against her. "Would… would you like me to lick your cunt, my dear?"

"Yes," she heard herself answer, moaning. "Yes, yes, oh God, yesyesyesyes!"

Renault took his fingers from between her open legs, from her swollen, tender breasts and pushed the short skirt up around her waist, exposing her pubic area to his feverish, salacious eyes. Spittle ran from the corners of his mouth in anticipatory lust at the act he was about to perform upon her. He stared at the juicy, lubricious sight for a long moment and then he pressed forward, turning Patty on the couch, lying her its full length, lifting one of her smooth, creamy thighs and placing it over the couch's back, pushing the other down until her toes touched the floor so that the whole of her passion inflamed pussy was spread magnificently open to him. Then he scrambled backward, positioning himself, and with a gasping cry of ecstasy plunged his head forward, snaking his long, slavering tongue out and ramming it expertly into her cuntal opening as his nose buried itself in the sweetly-smelling fluids of her open vagina.

Patty gurgled delightedly as his hot, long probe snaked into her cuntal passage, and her hands came up to entangle themselves in his wavy gray hair, pressing his face tighter to her desiring vaginal mouth. Wave after wave of fantastic, debauched pleasure rolled over her as Renault sucked and licked her steaming pussy, driving his tongue like a hard, miniature cock deep into her vaginal tunnel, groveling in her flowing liquids.

Patty turned her lust and drug-filled eyes toward the screen once again, and the sight she saw there caused her hands to tighten convulsively in Renault's hair, urging him onward to more profuse sucklings of her passion-drenched slit. The young girl was still wildly mouthing the redhead's cunt, just as Renault was now doing to hers; the redhead's legs were clasped tightly around the girl's neck, locked together there at the ankles to form a necklace of flesh, and her buttocks were upraised toward the ceiling, a lewd offering to the pagan ritualistic act of cunnilingus the girl was performing with lips, tongue, nose, cheeks. But a new dimension had been added, a new character in this cinematic orgy she was witnessing.

A dog!

A giant, sleek greyhound!

The great gray animal was standing at the foot of the bed, having apparently just bounded there, its wide, slavering mouth parted and its long, red tongue lolling wetly out of one side. As Patty watched, it moved forward and began to nuzzle the young girl's waving, undulating rear end. The cold nose startled her, caused her to cease her mad tonguings of the redhead's cunt; but the redhead wrapped her hands in the girl's hair, as Patty's were wrapped in Renault's, and urged the girl onward. She began to lick and suck once again, and the greyhound, tail wagging, lowered its massive head to the girl's quivering, well lubricated crotch, just below the jiggling ass cheeks. Then the dog's long, hot tongue furled out and began to lick the petalled edges of the girl's sweet young pussy, licking upward with enjoyment the full expanse of her crevice, from cunt to anus and back again. The girl was trembling almost mindlessly, her head like a dervish in the redhead's uplifted furrow, and the redhead tossed and flailed and raised her buttocks still higher to the girl's glistening, fluid-drenched face.

"I'm going to… to cum!" Patty cried then, feeling the vortex of her unquenchable passion spiral toward release as Renault's driving, twisting head with its poker-hot, penis-hard tongue jabbing into her vagina worked below. "Oh, yes Rick, I'm… going to… cum, I can feel it!"

Abruptly, he stopped, lifting his head, and she could see her juices dripping down along his chin, see him wipe them away with a quick flick of his pink tongue. "No," he said, "no, Patty, no don't cum. Not yet."

She tried to push his head back to her squirming crotch, but his neck muscles stiffened, resisting. "No," he persisted, "I want you to do something for me first. Will you do it?"

She didn't think to ask what it was he wanted; the only thing for her at that moment, the only world in which she existed, was the seething cauldron of impending orgasm which fired her body. "Yes!" she wailed. “Yes, oh yes anything, anythingggggg!”

Renault, an evil, grotesque, gargoyle leer on his aged face, pulled back away from her and deftly, quickly unzipped the fly on his gray slacks. He jerked his hand inside and brought out his cock, long and thin and faintly wrinkled even in its oscillating rigidity, the head purplish-red in the flickering light from the movie screen and coated with a thin sheen of seminal emission. He held it toward her, as if offering her a great and honored treasure.

"I want you to suck it, Patty dear," he croaked. "I want you to suck my cock while I lick your cunt. That way, we can cum together. Won't it be lovely if we cum together that way?"

"Yes!" she moaned. "Lovely, lovely!" But she wasn't really hearing his words in her own total abandonment to the ecstatic pleasures which rippled along and through her body. And when Renault put his hands on her waist, lifting her into a sitting position, and then wormed his own body out full length on the couch, she didn't resist in any way; she was a puppet, and he was her master and she would do as he bid. He raised her up then, commanding, "Lay on me upside down and drape your legs out over the arm of the couch. There, that's it. Now scoot back, dear, so I can taste your cunt again. Aaahhhhh, that's it! Mmmmmmmm!"

She felt his huge, hot, wet tongue slide into her vagina again and she cried out in rapturement. His hands came up over her buttocks, kneading and spreading them as he sucked her cuntal passage, and then she felt his finger probing her anal opening, teasing the sphincter ring and finally insinuating itself into her rectum to the first knuckle. It felt so small, so small in comparison with Val Robbin's huge cock of the night before, but when he rammed the digit to the second knuckle she cried out in pain and joy, the muscles of her rectal tunnel clasping and accepting the invading member. He began to worm it around inside, sending it still deeper, suckling her cunt like a wild man now, making little mewling sounds of delight in his throat.

Patty became aware, even through the insane lustful wonderment of her passion, of the masculine wafting odor of his genitals, of the nearness of his stiff, bloated cock. She remembered his command and she opened her eyes, closed since she had been ordered to lie down over him. She saw the great, slim member then, saw it standing upright in the dancing light like an obscene totem pole erected to some pagan spirit. It seemed to waver before her eyes, and she was fascinated by it, as a cobra is fascinated by the music of a fakir's flute. She reached out hypnotically with one of her hands and grasped it at the base, holding it in the circle of her thumb and forefinger, squeezing it, staring at it. And then she remembered Renault's command to suck him, to take his cock into her mouth. A part of her mind tried to rebel again, tried to tell her that such a thing was wrong, that she should not do for this man what she had never done for her own husband. But the very vile nature of the depraved act excited her even more, and all vestiges of her remaining inhibitions left her. She wanted to suck his cock, yes she wanted to suck this older man's hardened cock, take it all in her mouth, lick it and suck it and give him pleasure the way he was giving her pleasure in her cunt and in her rectum!

With a groan of tormented lust, Patty guided Renault's large, wet, rockhard shaft to her lips. She tasted the faintly acrid saltiness of the seminal lubrication sliming the glans and felt the great bloated head resting against their petal softness; and then she opened her mouth and took the head inside, acutely aware of Renault's burgeoning tongue and driving finger, and her hot moist cavern began to suck slowly, rhythmically, the hard flesh. She ran her tongue wetly around the head, easing the tip into the unseeing eye, eliciting moans of lusting pleasure from his buried head in her crotch. Then her head pumping wildly, crazily up and down, licking and reveling the great shaft between her convoluting lips, wondering with an alien part that she had not known existed in her mind how she could never have wanted to suck a man before, never have wanted to taste a hot, hard male organ in her mouth. It felt so good, so good, oh God she could feel her cum beginning to build inside her again, build and build as Renault tongued her cunt and probed mercilessly in her anus with his finger, and she began to suck him faster and faster, tasting the rigid shaft as it slammed all the way back against her larynx, fondling Renault's bloated, sperm laden balls now, cupping them tenderly in her hand, squeezing them gently, lovingly.

Suddenly, she remembered the movie screen and her eyes flew sideways to look once more upon the technicolor images which danced there. The sight she beheld now was more disgusting and yet more enticing than any she could have imagined. The young girl was still wildly mouthing the redhead's cuntal opening, and the redhead's legs were still clasped tightly about the girl's neck, her own buttocks still upturned high into the young, gleaming face slavering between her legs. But the greyhound had mounted the girl from behind, and Patty could see its huge forepaws sawing wildly at her sides and its large wet, crimson penis standing erect from its furry loins as its hind paws danced on the bed. The girl reached behind her as Patty watched, her hips wildly rotating in anticipation of the soon-to-be invasion of the dog's great prick, and grasped the pink, glistening member firmly, guiding it toward her upturned crotch. She moved her knees out wildly, opening her cuntal mouth in preparation for the greyhound's entrance. Then she had the wet cock of the animal at her vaginal opening, still sucking and madly licking the redhead's churning cunt, and aimed it inside, parted the soft, sparse pubic hair with the tip and managing to insert the slippery head into her squirming passage. The greyhound needed no further encouragement; it bucked forward savagely, driving its large pole deep into her soft pink cunt. The dog's great hairy testicles bounced against her lust soaked pubic hair as it thrust with impossible speed into her, its long tongue lolling out of the side of its panting mouth, its forepaws circling her belly in a tight lover's embrace. The girl's firm, ripe breasts danced a macabre fertility ritual, bouncing up against the redhead's slickly wet buttock cheeks, and her head seemed to be moving in the redhead's furrow almost as fast as the animal was pistoning its animal cock into her cunt from behind.

Patty, driven to heights of lust-pleasure that were unbearable now by the face burrowed in her crotch, by the cock buried in her mouth and the finger buried in her asshole, by the insanely perverted action on the movie screen, knew she was going to cum any second. Little expectant mewls of overwhelming desire gurgled from her throat, past Renault's steaming prick as she began to suck him harder with her soft, warm mouth. He was making sounds, too, in her furrow, his tonguings seeming to be hotter now, more abandoned than before and his balls cupped in her hand were churning as if with a life of their own; she knew his release was only moments away, the same as hers.

He was right, he was right, we are going to cum together, oh God, lovely, lovely, lovely, we're going to cum together!

Her eyes went to the screen again, saw the greyhound jerking into the young girl's cunt with its hot, wet probe faster and faster. Her torso whipped crazily from side to side, and the redhaired woman's head was flailing insanely. They're going to cum too, Patty thought, all of them, all five of us are going to cum together, I never knew there could be such sheer, pure joy in all the universe…

The young girl rammed her buttocks back against the animal with renewed frenzy as her orgasm took hold of her; and then the dog was cumming too, spewing great gushers of molten sperm deep into her belly, overflowing her passage so that rivers of the hot white liquid oozed out from her vagina as it sought to milk every last drop from the dog's great prick, oozed down along the backs of her thighs to form puddles on the bed at her knees. The redhead was climaxing now as well, and she whipped her head up off the bed, holding it stiff, her eyes glazed over and unseeing as her release flowed and flowed and flowed through her…

I'm… cumming… too… I'm… cumming… too… cumming, cumming, aaagghh cuuummmmiiiinnnngggggg…!

Patty's passion-crazed brain chanted the silent words as she felt her own orgasm seize her and render her deliciously, rapturously mindless, sending her into orbit, out far, far into space where no human had ever gone before. She jerked and convulsed, swirling her buttocks into Renault's face, flowing her juices down over his face, inundating it, drowning him. Her lips worked feverishly around his cock, cupping and squeezing his balls, and then suddenly he flexed upward, burying his tumescent shaft to the hilt in her throat and she felt the first jetting spurts of cum erupt along his urethra tube and through the glans opening and into her mouth, filling it. Her throat worked, tightening and untightening as the great tidal flood of semen, of burning cum juice, rushed into her wildly ovaling mouth. She swallowed frantically to keep from choking on his foaming seed, her cheeks hollowing again and again as she drank every last droplet of his ejaculation..

Moments later, all too brief those moments, her climax waned. As it did, she felt Renault's slippery now flaccid prick slide from between her lips with a wet sluicing noise, and she collapsed forward, her head cradled on his wizened thighs, her hands still cradling the soft, now-almost-flat brown sack of his scrotum. Dimly, through satiated, drowsily, marijuana-deadened eyes, she saw the color images again, saw the young girl lying with her wet cheek on the redhead's belly, her eyes tightly shut and a beatific smile on her lips while the redhead gratefully, tenderly stroked her raven hair, smiling a small fulfilled smile of her own. And the greyhound, its tail wagging, licked at the girl's sweat-slick ass cheeks as if wanting to thank her, and the now-still moons, for the great enjoyment of only moments earlier.

Then, abruptly, the film ended and there was only the white square of flickering light on the screen again. Patty's eyes closed, feeling Renault's hands relax on her buttocks, his finger still impaled in her anus but his face now unmoving in her satiated crotch. Moments later, she had fallen into a deep, dreamless stuporous sleep.

Chapter 6

Patty awoke to the sound of a dog howling in the distance. It sounded like the dog in the film, she thought blurriedly as she looked up at the ceiling.

She frowned, confused. Where was she? It didn't look like the ceiling in Marcia's bedroom, the powder blue one with the single light fixture… no, it was another room in a strange house and there was a different odor. She moaned slightly from the odd situation she found herself in, trying to place the smell which assailed her nostrils like something raw and savage. She started to move and then groaned, for her muscles were sore between her thighs and it was hard for her to move them. She lay still until the pain went away.

Her stomach felt funny and full. It was all warm inside, as though a gently implanted coal was there, emitting a non-burning but soothing soft radiance. She let one of her arms fall away from her naked breasts, stretching slightly, and then she froze!

There was something next to her, soft and warm like… like a man's body! She held her breath and turned her head slowly to the side. Her mouth gaped open as suddenly her eyes focused on the brown skinned back lying on the couch next to her.

And then it all came back to her!

She clenched her eyes tightly shut from the remembrances. The beginning with Rick Renault's patently false excuse to lure her to his den of iniquity. Then the marijuana, the smoke filling her lungs with intense desires, and then the films, the lewd, perverted movies of the two lesbians and the giant dog, and then her own wild twisting and churning body as it yearned for sexual release. She had succumbed like a harlot of pagan Rome to the rituals of lovemaking, obliterating her inhibitions and prejudices, which were already seriously destroyed by the ordeal of the past few days. And that smell was one of consummated sex which covered both her and the sleeping man beside her after the salacious orgy of the afternoon. Three women, one man and one dog all lusting, all climaxing together! Oh how sick! How wretched!

And she remembered too, the eruption of Renault's aging sperm deep inside her young gullet as she urged him on with her lips and tongue. That white heat in her stomach, the warmth which she could feel so strongly, was from the great pool of hot, white semen that he had emptied into her belly. She had begged for him to do that to her and had urged his own frantic licking and sucking of her vagina with all her physical being like that same sick whore. Nothing could excuse her lapse into uncontrollable passion with the degenerate old man, not even the small excuse of rape as she had had with Larry's father, she had deadened her every sense of righteousness.

She turned to view the naked man beside her, shuddering with revulsion as he shifted his thin, lined haunches. His nude form reminded Patty of an ancient hound dog snoring in the sun… a hound dog of inexpressible evilness which would soon be on the hunt again to ensnare her sweet pulchritude with further debauchery. She slowly, carefully edged her way from the couch, trying not to disturb Renault, lest he awaken and demand more from her.

She slipped quietly to the floor, smoothing the thin sweater and short skirt, then she tiptoed to the door and peered through the open crack into the hallway. All was dead silent, save for the regular heavy breathing of Renault. Her thoughts raced a mile a minute. This was her chance!

She held her breath and opened the door further until she could slip through without a noise. Cat-like, her bare feet barely touching the floor, she continued across the vast house. A board squeaked!

She went rigid, her heart pounding in her chest, but Renault only groaned softly and shifted to a more comfortable position. She continued to tiptoe to the front door, and she pushed her way out to the front porch and down the cement path. A gust of wind blew the door shut with a loud crash. She ran as fast as she could on her tortured and wobbly legs to the street. There was the main street of Portrero not far away. She hoped she could reach it before Renault realized she had fled.

Patty was lucky: a bus was just discharging passengers, and uncaring where it was going, she hopped aboard. The bus hissed and moved away from the curb, and Patty, the horror of the situation over, sank into her seat, a drained and hapless woman.

It took two more buses and another hour before Patty arrived back at Marcia's house. Throughout the long rides, she kept mulling over her predicament, her brain in a numbed state of shock. She was beyond crying, her emotions exhausted as her bruised body was tired. But the loathing continued to haunt her and she couldn't shake the fevered thoughts which rampaged her ravaged mind. She was completely immersed in the feelings of outrageous defilement which Rick Renault had so cruelly and debasedly subjected her to.

She could not stop despising herself, nor would she ever, for the wanton surrender to his foul, brutal raping of her cunt and mouth was a loss of her control, and there was no denying it. Before he had finished with her she had given back as much as she had received, her brain steeped in the blinding passion of her own desire, her body an ungovernable mass of seething lust. Oh God, she moaned softly to herself, she was still nothing but a street walking slut with a strange man's hot white sperm digested in her entrails..

She stumbled to the house, slamming the door after her impulsively. She raced to the bedroom, the filth and degeneracy of her actions overwhelming her mind. Quickly, almost feverishly she threw her skirt and sweater into a heap and stood naked, rubbing her hands along her sides in a futile attempt to cleanse her body. She looked down her breasts at the soft curve of her stomach to her raised pubic mound, and at the matted, dried hair and her inflamed cunt which Renault had so abandonedly manipulated with his long, hot tongue. She thought of her sexual desires which the old man had so callously raised into enveloping passion; she thought of how she had sucked him off to climax and how disgusting and evil she had been. She thought of her actions with Val Robbins, and her acceptance of Marcia's straining lips, and the original, releasing rape of her body by her father-in-law.

Gone was the listless, lethargic barrenness of that morning. The empty shell of her mind was once again filled by the terror and agony of her plight. And the full impact of what she had done and what she thought of herself hit with sledge hammer blows.

Her inner torment magnified a thousandfold, and she felt as if a trillion tiny, unseen creatures were walking on her body, dirtying it, defiling it so that she would never be able to be clean again. The filthy, unseen organisms scurried faster and faster over every inch of her velvet flesh, trailing dung-like putrification…

A low, tormented wail bubbled from Patty's lips as she ran to the bathroom. She twisted the plastic handles on the shower taps bringing forth a spray of water, and then she adjusted the stream almost with frantic haste until the needles were hot, hot as the hell she felt inside her. Then she stepped in the stall and gasped as the scalding spray beat upon her skin, turning it bright crimson, burning off the insects which infested it. She made no move to cool the water; instead she stood fast and endured the pain, her mouth open, her eyes shut, enduring the lashing cascade as if it were some cleansing, divine punishment.

For five minutes Patty withstood the torrent, blanking her mind to her sorrow. She soaped her rectum, vagina, breasts and face in a desperate attempt to rid herself of the dirty feeling, unsure whether she could succeed or not. She turned off the water and stepped out to dry herself. Oh God, will I never be wholesome again?

Briskly, almost as though she were heaping further abuse upon herself, Patty dried with a large, fluffy towel. Her skin tingled from the water and the toweling and glowed a burnished pink. She padded naked to the bedroom, hoping above hope she could relieve the furnace of loathing which burned inside her.

… And suddenly the thought of Larry flashed into her mind. The idea of his finding out what she had been doing was more than she could bear! It was too much! She'd betrayed her husband's pure love… lowered herself to the very depths of moral degradation… and she'd never be able to face him again. She couldn't go on this way, knowing she had lasciviously given herself to other men, complete strangers… a woman, her best girlfriend… no matter what the extenuating circumstances. She couldn't! She'd rather die first!

The horrible alternative drifted across her brain, tormenting her further. She weighed the methods, poison, slitting her wrists, jumping from the Golden Gate Bridge and the consequences of actually destroying herself, and it was too much for her confused mind to take. She sank upon the bed, and shortly her maddened thoughts dissipated into a weary, almost lethargic state, and with her sex exhausted body, she fell into a deep sleep.

She awoke after dark, the sounds of night coming through the open window. "Ooohhh, my God," she groaned aloud. "What's happening to me?" She sat up quickly, her brain reminded her of Renault again, and of her panicked flight… and of the almost hysterical trance she had been in after arriving home. It was too much, and she screamed, hard and high. She ran to the bureau and looked in the mirror. "My God," she moaned.

Heavy lines marred her fresh, young skin, and her eyes were sunk into her cheeks as though she had aged ten years over night. Her body was a mass of blush-red marks and bruises from Renault's suckling mouth, mostly centered around her breasts and inner thighs. Her nipples seemed to feel completely raw and she leaned against the bureau with revulsion.

"It must have been a nightmare. It must have!" she babbled incoherently over and over to herself, still hanging onto the bureau. "I'll ask Marcia. She'll tell me the truth, I know she will. She'll tell me I never did such things!"

"Marcia! Marcia!" she yelled, half staggering half crawling through the house.

There was no answer. She could see the clock on the kitchen wall as reading after seven, which meant that Marcia should have been home from her job by now. Where was she? Patty collapsed in the dinette chair. Then she saw the note propped against the sugar bowl, the handwriting Marcia's barely legible scrawl. It was a short message, but it said a thousand words:

"Patty: I'm letting you sleep, as you looked as though you'd had a rough day. I'm going to a party at Renault's and hope to see you there when you get up. Your friend, Marcia."

Patty slumped to the Formica table and sobbed. Her one friend had deserted her, not even bothering to wake her up to see if she was all right when she, Marcia, had come home after work. Oh God, she was the vile creature she secretly thought she was, and this only proved it! Marcia could not stand her except in the company of other lewd and corrupt individuals. With almost hysterical reasoning, Patty cried and moaned her feelings of abandonment and spuriousness out, wetting the table top. Then she stopped, completely drained of her agony, and again the fog of incomprehension began to roll over her mind. She settled back in the chair, whimpering with soft sounds of agony and let the blackness of the night's uncaring attitude envelop her distraught brain, soothing away the horror she could not face, blanking out the reality of her life.

Yes, and as she stared at the wall, the tears of her rejection drying upon her cheeks, she wanted to escape still further, right off this horrid, degrading planet into the spiraling eternity of the universe and she knew how to realize this fervent wish.

With sex. After all, her body was a used, vacant pit of decay, her soul putrescence and atrophy, her morals nonexistent and her life a hollow vestige of degeneracy. Why not use this gangrenous form to help her fly from her world? Why not let Val and Marcia and Renault, that ugly, vile old man, and even the dog on the screen grovel in her carrion? At least she, in that one brief passage of time, was able to break away and be free!

And with marijuana. That sweet haze of euphoria, that abundant supplier of soporific pleasure which heightened her ability to get away… she wanted more, more of the evil drug to fill her nefarious blood and take over her controls. She no longer wanted to worry, ever, about what became of her.

Like a robot, mesmerized, Patty rose from the table and slowly trod to the bedroom again. She had only one burning idea in her mind, the abject surrender to the goals of sex and drugs, and she knew exactly how and where to obtain them. At Rick Renault's. Tonight. At the party Marcia had already gone to. A thin smile of anticipation creased her otherwise bloodless lips, and Patty arched her form before the mirror again, only this time it was with pride of possession, rather than sick revulsion. This plague of flesh, this pestilence of spirit will serve my few desires well, she mused to herself as she kneaded her fine breasts and played her palms along her stomach ridges. It got me into trouble… now it will get me out of it.

She rummaged through the few clothes she had brought from the Jennings, and selected the dress she had worn on her honeymoon. She and Larry had not had much money, neither when they got married, or afterwards, and so she had been practical, picking out a simple all-white cocktail sheath as the outfit to be married in and then travel with him. Occasionally she still wore it, at special times when they had been invited to fancy places, or when they saved up enough to dine at a very good restaurant. But now, now was the time to wear it again, to have this symbol of her past defiled as the wearer was, so that not even this tag would be left to remind her of what she had come from. She slipped the fine wool dress over her head and down her body, drawing its satin drawstring around her neck tightly and tying it in a bow just above her breastbone. That was all she wore, save for a pair of sandals. Her breasts, firm and buoyant with their own uplift, stuck out, the nipples pointing through the material where her tits bulged at their most voluminous proportions. The tight bottom clung to her hips and outlined her bare buttocks and narrow vaginal slit as she walked. She hummed as she dressed, then she took the pearl-backed hair brush and began to stroke the soft, thin strands of her reddish waves, over and over, hypnotically counting back from one hundred as she brushed. When she had reached fifty-seven, the doorbell chimed. She didn't stop, but ignored its sound, and it rang again at forty-five and another time at thirty. Then a fist pounded on the door and a deep, gruff male voice yelled out her name.

"Patty! Patty! Please let me in!"

Patty put down the brush and walked to the door, grabbing her purse as she went. She opened the door, and if she had been more herself, she would have gasped with horror and shock. But as it was, the hulking figure of Larry's father, Tom Jennings, barely caused a ripple of interest to crease her forehead.

"Hello," she said tonelessly.

"Please, Patty let me in, will you? I-I have to talk to you."

"Can't. I'm sorry," she replied listlessly.

"But you don't understand! I'm sorry," Jennings said compassionately, "I'm truly sorry for what happened, as sorry as I've ever been in my life!”

Patty looked up at the wretched individual, discerning the pain and remorse which were written across his features. "Don't be. You were right all along, Tom. Your daughter-in-law is nothing but a gutter whore, and you did what all men should do to her. You fucked me silly, but that doesn't mean anything. Not any more."

"You-you don't mean that, Patty. It was me. I raped you, I raped my own flesh and blood, and I don't deserve to live any more." He grasped Patty by the shoulders, shaking her in an effort to make her understand. "Forgive me, Patty. Come home now and forgive me. I want only the best for Larry and you, and I promise, I promise on my mother's grave I'll never lay a finger on you again. I'll never say a nasty thing or even look at you wrong, but please say you'll be part of our family again.”

"Let go, Tom. I forgive you.”

"Wonderful! I'll get your things and we'll…"

"No. I'm staying here. This is where I belong."

"But I promise"

"I'm sure you'll be good. I'm just as sure I won't be. Now please get out of my way. I'm late for an appointment.”

She brushed past her stricken father-in-law and stalked down the sidewalk to the street. She did not look back, not once, never seeing the welling tears of humiliation and contrition, which filmed the broken man's blurred eyes.

The high domed room buzzed with the low conversation of a dozen, sophisticated people as Patty was led in by the Chinese houseboy. A white-coated waiter balanced a tray of drinks and wound his way through the cluster, stopping periodically to offer a replenishment to some guest with an empty glass in his hand. A huge fire burned in the Spanish-accented fireplace, which was almost as large as the entrance doors themselves.

Patty marveled once again at the wealth displayed, at the fine silver and beautiful paintings and magnificent tapestries, which she had but sparingly noticed upon her first visit.

Renault was, as to be expected, the center of attention, Patty moved across the room to him, stopping the waiter as he passed to select a very dry martini, and as she joined the three other people who surrounded him, she heard Renault say: "Yes, and the Van Gogh above the statue has been in our family for generations. The magnificent little artist gave it to Grandmother as a token of his appreciation for sponsoring one of his first art shows in Paris. He was eternally grateful, and rose to his well deserved place soon afterwards.”

Renault was once more in the velvet smoking robe; wide belt tied around his slender waist, collar high and slightly ruffled with a studied carelessness. He paused, seeing Patty for the first time, and she was pleased to note that his eyes caressed her curves, and that her body had not passed his appreciation.

"Well, well," he smiled, "I'm glad to see you are here, my dear." He patted her shoulder warmly. "I was surprised to see you had left so early this afternoon. I didn't even have time to tell you about this little get-together before you literally disappeared."

"I-I was pretty tired," Patty replied in a soft murmur. She flickered her eyelashes in feigned modesty. “And, well, a little shy.”

"Are you still, my dear?" he leered down, stroking his mustache slightly.

“Not in the least, Rick, darling,” she smiled in answer.

"Good. I'm sure we'll work out something later of ah, similar interest. After all, you were brilliant, simply brilliant, today. You have, mmmm, let's just say, a natural talent for such things."

"What things, Renault?" a gruff voice broke in. Patty turned toward the stranger who had spoken, one of the four who had been around Renault when she had joined them. She was attracted to the man on sight; a muscular, good-looking man in a dark suit and tight-fitting turtleneck shirt. She didn't think he was much over thirty, yet he gave a strong impression of power and maturity, as though he had risen in the world the hard way and knew whereof he spoke.

"Sex," she answered blatantly. "That's what thing, Mr…"

"Jessup." The man grinned at Patty. "And you…?"

"Meet Patty Jennings, Harold. Harold is a fight promoter, Patty, and a very good one at that. Oh, and I'll introduce you to the others, which I should have done before. Pardon my rudeness."

Renault gestured at the woman standing to the other side of Harold Jessup; a short, yet perfectly proportioned five foot girl with a pile of golden curls on top of her round, cherubic faced head. Patty thought she was the most innocent, Shirley Templish looking type she had ever laid eyes on, and she thought for a split second that certainly that one couldn't be a part of this licentious, sex-ridden group. She belongs sucking on an all-day lollypop, not some strange man's cock!

And this is Peter Harrison Fugazi," Renault continued, "Harold's new fighter. Expect to see him as the new heavyweight champion in a few years, Patty."

"Pete, Ma'am," Fugazi said. "Just call me Pete."

"All right, Pete." Patty shuddered inwardly at the size of the man, for as adonis-like as Jessup was, he was nothing compared to the fighter. Pete was a few inches taller and a yard wider than any male Patty could remember, with a totally bald head and a cauliflower left ear, and a very thin nose. His eyes were dusky Italian, with the glitter of Rome and Naples in them, and Patty made no mistakes about him;: he would be all animal, lover as well as fighter, and would be absolutely and hugely delicious inside her cunt. She could feel him already, and it frightened her.

Next to Pete Fugazi was a medium-sized girl with absolutely stupendous breasts. They were the size which would have put the plastics industry on overtime if they had been injected with silicon, but Patty had the feeling they were all flesh, all real. They protruded like the Swiss Alps, forcing the girl to arch her back to balance herself. She had a flat nose with wide nostrils, the exact opposite of Fugazi's, and very black, tightly kinked hair. The girl smiled, her thick lips wide with lustful greeting. "Hi," she said. "I'm Linda. Linda Vigal."

"Please to meet you, I'm sure," Patty said, smiling back at them.

Renault took her around to the other guest, introducing her to Fortesque T. Franklynn, to "Fort," as he was known. He had his arm around Marcia, who nodded warmly to Patty, and who in turn introduced George Laufgren, who owned a chain of electronic parts stores; his brother, Carter; and their respective wives, Jean and Helen.

Patty was struck by the quiet, formal, sophisticated way everybody conducted themselves, and if she hadn't known better, she would have thought this was one of the most proper and stuffy gatherings she had been to in her life. It was hard to believe these belonged to the mass-swap life, and wondered if they would engage in any of the perverted and unnatural acts she had so recently been introduced to.

"I'll leave you here, Patty," Renault said. "I have to see how Barbara is doing with hors d'oeuvres. We have a cook, but she still insists…” he sighed and shrugged with age-old way a man does when he doesn't understand a woman. Then he turned and with a smile, he shook a warning finger at the Laufgren's. "I saw her first, so no hanky-panky while I'm doing my duties. Especially you, Carter, you rake."

Everybody laughed and Renault walked toward the kitchen.

"Good to see you, Patty," Marcia said, breaking the ice. "You were dead to the world when I got home, so I thought it best to let you sleep."

"Thanks," Patty replied. "But I'm raring to go now."

"I'm sure you are," Carter said. "Ow! You didn't have to kick my shin, darling," he protested to his wife, Helen.

"We were just talking about Viet Nam," Jean said. "Though I don't understand a word of it. I'm a poor housewife and leave such matters to the men-folk."

"Well, it is obvious to anybody, even to you, Helen," Carter said, "That we have no right in that country. We should pull out of there at once.”

“What?” bellowed George, "Leave those poor people to the ravages of Communism? How many women and children do you think would be slaughtered without our defense?"

"Less than the number we're killing now," came the hot retort. "Let them decide for themselves who they want to run the government. It's not our concern."

"Pshaw! I say the concentration camp and firing squad terrorism would wipe the country clean of any thinking men within a year. What kind of world would we have if we gave in to such tyranny, we; the nation which was founded on the principles of decency and freedom for all mankind! Did we not fight for our freedom? And are not all men our brothers? Why should an ocean or a frontier make any difference to the universality of the human race?"

"You mean we should play God with the lives of millions, just to sway them to our beliefs?"

"No, but to give the poor people a chance to decide for themselves, that's all."

"Imperialism has never worked, and you know as well as I do, George, that the real reason we're over there is not to fight for their freedom, but to enslave them in economic ties with the Western world. We're interested in what they can do for us, not what altruistically we can do for them."

"Is profit that bad? Is the money I take from my company dirty? Don't be silly! The capitalistic system works on the basis that what's good for me is good for you, because I need you as much as you need me. So South Viet Nam is hurried into the twentieth century, is shaken up with industrialization and progress. So is that so much worse than picking weeds in a rice paddy all your life? Hell, no, it's not. And don't talk to me about the history of Imperialism. For one thing, we're not the Imperialists, for we plan to leave. Peking and Moscow surely don't, and they plan to bleed the country, not build it up, and that's true Imperialism."

"That still doesn't give us the right to kill."

"The only thing turning the other cheek ever got was another hit in the mouth. You speak of history, and that's the greatest lesson going. Or haven't you ever heard of Chamberlain's 'peace-in-our-times' sellout to Hitler, and the resultant World War II, which slaughtered millions. Asia will fall to the Reds just as surely, and we will have broken our commitments and promises and seriously weakened the respect we hold now if we do as you want."

"Respect?" snapped Carter. "Respect my ass! It's fear!"

"All right, fear! I say respect, but if our enemies fear us, so much the better," Carter glowered at his brother, and sipped his drink. "That's always the curse of the strong."

"All the strength hasn't done a bit of good, either. The Communists are still as powerful as ever."

"Bull shit, brother. When we entered Viet Nam, Cambodia was Red, the Philippines were overrun with Huk terrorists, Malaysia was threatened, Burma was in deep subversive trouble, and the whole Western influence was tottering on the brink of collapse. Now look. South Viet Nam was lost; otherwise Ho Chi Mm would never have agreed to bargain in 1958 he had it made and could put on a front of conciliation. Well, the front backfired and he has been ground to a standstill. The other countries have rallied behind our directive force, and Burma has thrown out the terrorists, the Philippines haven't had serious trouble in over five years, Cambodia has a new, pro-Western government, and we have never have better, more friendly relations with more Eastern countries than now. True, things aren't perfect, but they are a thousand times better than they were a decade ago, and I say it's because we made a stand and have stuck to it."

"And I say…"

"Please!" interrupted Patty. Continue your tirade later. But I'm exercising my right as a partygoer to ask that the subject be changed. I'm a nit about politics, and I feel left out."

"Thank you for the rescue," Helen said dryly. "The boys have been at this ever since I can remember. They don't exactly see eye-to-eye on everything. The silly thing is that they will never do anything else about it except argue."

They all laughed and as the waiter passed, the four took fresh drinks. The talk switched to television, movies, books, and raising of children in today's permissive society. Then Renault appeared beside Patty again, and she could feel the hardening lump of flesh between his legs as he brushed up against her. She wriggled the soft cheeks of her buttocks back against his groin and felt his cock stiffen still more.

The tempo and heat of the party continued to increase, and after a few more drinks, Renault dimmed the room's lights and had the Chinese houseboy set out the gold pillows in a wide circle on the floor. He then instructed everyone to assume seated positions on the pillows, and Patty knew that the marijuana ritual, which she had been a part of the previous night was about to be repeated. She felt her thighs and nipples tingle with anticipation, and as she sank to the cushion, she thought to herself:

This is just the beginning, and tonight is going to be one hell of a swinging party.

Chapter 7

Patty was floating… soft, warm, pleasantly floating, the same feeling she had had that first night. The sweet smell of the marijuana blanketed the room now, and she could see the glowing ends of the brown cigarettes in the darkness. Some of the couples on the cushions were fondling one another now that the ritual had been completed; Renault had kissed one of Barbara’s alabaster breasts moments earlier to signify the close of the ceremony, but he had not left with her as he had before. He was standing behind his cushion, the only one standing, surveying the seated guests with penetrating eyes; Barbara had resumed her position, her breast still exposed, being fondled eagerly now by Garter Laufgren.

As Patty reveled in the inner sensations of warmth and beginning passion at the lewdly locked couples round her, she saw Renault begin to walk slowly around the circle of cushions, coming toward her. He stopped behind her pillow, looking down at her, and as she turned her head to smile up at him she noticed the hard, unmistakable bulge of his erect cock jutting along his right leg. She found herself growing more excited as she stared at his concealed hard-on, and she reached up two exploratory fingers to stroke the prominence lightly. Renault’s eyes lidded and his hand closed over hers, pressing it tightly to his crotch. He said, “Come with me, my dear. I have something I want to show you.”

“This?” she asked coyly, teasing his bloated prick.

“No,” he said. “And yes. Will you come along?”

“Yes, yes, I will.” Patty said. She stood and he took her hand and led her out of the room, down the hallway to another hail which elled off to the right. At the end of that second one was a closed door, and Renault opened it and led her into a dimly lighted bedroom with a huge double bed in its exact center. He closed the door then, turning toward her, his eyes glowing with the heat of his lust.

Patty giggled, stepping forward and touching his cock through his pants again. “Well?" she asked. “What do you have to show me, Rick?”

He grinned obscenely. “Take off your clothes, my dear,” he commanded. “All of them. I want you completely, lusciously nude for my old eyes.”

Patty felt her cuntal muscles begin to contract expectantly. Quickly, she took off her white wool sheath, untying the neck drawstring and pulling it over her head to reveal her smooth white nudity, the dark reddish triangle of her femininity starkly contrasting in the pale light. “There!“ she said. “I didn’t waste any time, did I, Rick?"

Renault licked his lips excitedly. “Lie down on the bed, Patty,” he instructed. “Spread your legs wide so I can see all of your magnificent cunt.”

She did as she was bid, lying on the soft mattress and splaying her beautiful, satiny legs, moving her hips lightly as she watched him walk slowly toward a sliding closet at one wall. He drew back the door, took something from. inside, and then turned and walked to the bed. He stood over her, holding the object in his hand, leering down at her with perverted lust on his aged, wrinkled countenance.

The object was a feather.

A huge, plumed ostrich feather.

The swirling drug-fog in Patty’s brain locked out all thoughts of the complete debasity of what that feather represented. She knew, but refused to admit to herself, what Renault was going to do with it. She watched in lustful fascination as he quickly shed his lounging robe and pants, standing nude over her like some pagan priest above a sacrificial virgin, holding the feather like a heathen dagger, his slender, wrinkled cock jutting out purplishly from his flabby midsection.

“I’m going to tickle your fancy, my dear,” he chuckled croakingly. “Won’t that be nice?”

She squirmed, her cunt on fire now. “Yes!” she moaned. “Oh yes it will be, Rick, it will be!”

“But we must do it slowly,” Renault said in a crooning tone. “Very, very slowly.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Patty’s buttocks were undulating faster and faster on the bed, and her eyes seemed to be riveted almost hypnotically on the gently wavering plume in the old man’s fingers.

Renault waved the feather over the length of her body, not touching her with it, saying soft words in that same strange language he had used at the pot ritual. His eyes glittered with an almost fanatical fire. Then he knelt on the bed beside her and lowered the feather to flutter it at the balls of her feet. Her toes began to twitch and she writhed all the more ecstatically on the bed, her cunt seeming to open and close, open and close, as if it were a starving mouth waiting to be fed the staff of life.

Renault began to move the feather upward, over her ankles and her knees and along her inner thighs. Then he was dusting it lightly along her crotch, along the wet, glistening folds of her gently throbbing pussy until the oscillating phallus of her clit seemed so engorged as to be near bursting.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oohhhhh!” Patty wailed in an almost crazed lustfulness.

Renault moved the feather higher, along the flat creaminess of her belly, over one firm, resilient, pink-tipped breast and then over the other, making the nipples as rigid as her bud below. Patty’s hands were clawing at the spread now, and she was grinding her firm, rounded buttocks down on the mattress, her knees drawn up but wide spread, soles of her feet touching and her cunt flowered wide, wide, and flowing her juices in ever-increasing streams down onto the cloth beneath her churning bottom. He continued to brush the feather over her tits, back and forth, again and again, and then he was bringing it back down over her belly, between her legs, teasing and stroking her liquidy furrow until she felt a scream of near madness rise in her throat and burst forth into the stillness of the room;

“Aaaaagggggghhhhh!”

Renault did not stop. Back and forth went the feather, up and down, until Patty thought she would pass out from sheer ecstasy, feeling her cum build inside her like a seething tornado of lubricious, delirious joy. Another few seconds now, another few seconds, and she would be there, she would be cumming, that wonderful beautiful fantastic feather would make her cum… He stopped.

All of a sudden, Renault drew the feather back, holding it high above his head.

Patty’s eyes fluttered open, her hips still wildly rotating. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!“ she pleaded sensuously. “More, more, more, more!”

“No, my dear,” Renault said softly. “Now it’s your turn to give me the same pleasure I have given you."

“But…”

“Hush now,” Renault said authoritatively.

He stretched out beside her, pushing the ostrich feather into her hand. "I know you were almost on the point of climax, and that's why I stopped. We must build my desires, too, so that when I at last fuck you, it will be a coupling of the greatest possible magnitude."

Patty nodded numbly. "All right, Rick, whatever you say."

"There's my girl."

She rolled onto her knees, holding the feather over him as he had done to her. His eyes were fastened on the plume as hers had been, and his tongue flicked out wetly over his puckered lips.

"Shall I start with your feet?" Patty asked.

"Yes," he answered. "But you must ignore my prick and my balls until the very last. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Then-begin!"

Patty began to move the feather slowly, slowly, over the balls of Renault's feet, bringing it up along his legs. His buttocks began to squirm on the bed, just as her firm young ones had, as she swept the feather in a wide path around his pelvis, up along his belly, across his wizened chest. Back down again, pausing at his belly; back up again, around his throat.

"That's it, my dear! That's it, my dear!" he chanted, and thin threads of drool rolled out of the corners of his mouth. His cock stood straight up, quivering with desire, the head lubricated with a wet, glistening seminal film. As she brought the feather down along his sides, Patty could sense her own passion beginning to approach its crest again; there was something infinitely exciting, infinitely debauched, about the use of that great colorful plume on one another's bodies. She stared at his cock, so stiff and blood-purple that it could have been the penis of a young boy instead of that of an older man, and she wanted it inside her pussy, wanted it to reach into the depths of her belly more than she had wanted any cock in her life. But she was under his command, under his spell; she would not have his great member inside her until he deemed it time.

"Aaaahhhh!" Renault was crooning on the bed as Patty tickled his thighs with the feather, brought it down to his knees, back up almost to his crotch. And then: "Now, Patty! Now, my balls! Tickle my balls and the head of my cock! Quickly, now! Quickly!"

She did as she was ordered, fluttering the tantalizing softness of the feather all the way up his thighs to swirl around the two bloated pendulums of his testicles. Then she reached down and grasped his prick at the base with her free hand, holding it still as she moved the feather lightly over the glans, around and around like a swirling tongue, then along the rigid shaft to his balls again, back up to the head, back down, back up, back down.

"Oooooooaaaaahhhhh!" Renault wailed, flexing his hips and his pelvis in a mad jerking of sexual frenzy. "Now get on, get on, get on! Oh Patty, Patty, impale yourself on my great rod! Fuck me with your sheathing cunt, Patty dear! Get on and fuck me now, now, noooww!"

The lewdness of his command incited Patty's fires of passion to an even hotter degree, and she dropped the feather, twisting her body up to straddle him, locking her knees and thighs against his sides, raising up so that her moist, widely-spread cuntal mouth was directly above the head of his hardened cock, less than two inches from the wet, sticky, blood-raged head. She reached down and held his staff in her hand again, her hips beginning to sway slightly as she prepared herself for her down thrust. She guided the head of his cock, positioned it, at the door of her secret recess, lowered herself until she could feel the glans touching, touching like a feather, the folds of her yearning, lust-burning slit.

And then… and then she impaled herself down on it!

"Eeeeeeaaaahhhhhh!" she squealed in abject surrender as the full length of his cock filled her cunt, slammed up against her cervix painfully. She could feel his bulging, hairy balls against her ass cheeks, feel his wiry-haired pelvis pressed to her crotch.

"Fuck me!" Renault screamed up at her. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! Oh dear Patty, fuck my cock with your lovely cunt! Hurry, hurry, fuck meeee!"

Patty began to bob up and down then, leaning forward on her hands, which were spread out on either side of his wildly lolling head. Her beautiful tits swayed and danced like two live things, the nipples brushing his throat and collarbone. Her cunt climbed his cock to the crest, fell back to imprison it all the way, climbed to the crest again, fell back. The muscles of her vaginal passage clamped tightly around the invader, squeezing it, milking it, and she rotated her hips madly around the hard, fleshy, hot shaft buried inside her.

Renault raised one of his hands from the bed and his clawlike fingers dug into the soft, firm flesh of one of her pliant globular buttocks. He kneaded and manipulated the sweating moon, reaching around to probe the puckered ring of her anus briefly, dipping his fingers into her wet, warm crotch to feel his own cock and the outward-pulling of her cunt lips as she drew up on the shaft, the inward-contracting of them when she lowered herself down on the turgid member.

Then his mouth was seeking, and finding, one of her bobbing breasts. He used his other hand to guide the distended nipple to his lips, where he took it between his teeth and began to nibble on it, squeezing the softness of the tit hard in the palm of his hand. His teeth were bared now, and his eyes were tightly shut as she rode abandonedly up and down the length of his burgeoning prick.

Patty was approaching Nirvana, ascending toward heights of release heretofore unimaginable. Her cuntal passage was one great throbbing pleasure-pain, the magnitude of that mixture so intense as to render her almost insane as she sought to cum, to make this old man beneath her and inside her cum, the two of them cum together in one bursting, rapturous moment when the ascension to Nirvana would at last be realized.

She was only dimly aware of the sound of the bedroom door opening.

The voices which followed that sound only dimly reached her ears; "Holy Jesus Christ, is she giving old Rick a ride!"

"Goddamn yeah, she is!"

"I'd like to get in on that fuck! The way she's swinging that juicy ass of hers says that when she cums, it's going to be like skyrockets going off on the Fourth of July!"

"Well, why the hell don't you, Harry boy? Go over there and shove it in her asshole! That'll really send her off!"

"Hell yes, I think I will!"

As Patty continued to wildly impale her body up and down Renault's stiffened pole, she became aware that one of the two men who had been talking was approaching the bed, was kneeling down beside her. And then she felt hands on her spine, fingers digging into the flesh there; felt Renault's hand slip away to come around and stroke her sweating belly and the matted, slippery hair of her pubic mound. The full meaning of the brief conversation she had just heard burst into her brain at that moment, and she knew that the man behind her was going to put his penis into her rectum, as Val Robbins had put his huge rod into it the night before to destroy her anal virginity. Waves of lewd anticipation seized control of her body as the thought of still another male member buried inside her, at the thought of two huge, sperm-filled cocks fucking both of her orifices at the same time, she began to pump faster and faster, her cunt making wet sluicing sounds as it drew up and juices out around the hardened penis to pool down around Renault's prick, flowing her on his pubic hair and on downward to his belly.

Behind her, Harold Jessup leered with gathering lust at the upturned moons of Patty's firmly rounded ass. His large, thick cock touched one of the soft mounds, and the contact sent a sensation of sheer lust down into his cum-heavy balls. He dipped the fingers of both hands into the slick, hot crevice and drew the white globes of her buttocks wide apart to expose the brown nether ring of her asshole. It seemed to wink at him lustfully, little globules of sweat glistening on the puckered ring. Oh Christ, he had to fuck this hot little bitch there and he had to do it now! While she was still fucking Renault, while she was almost ready to cum!

Brutally, almost sadistically, he guided his gigantic totem pole to the opening and rammed forward, driving his cock into her rectum, sending it home with a wild searing heat, burying it to his abdomen. The rod ripped along the membraneous passage, still tight, still resisting in spite of the fucking Val had given it the previous evening, like some terrible pistoning jackhammer, and Jessup's balls slapped resoundingly against her wet, hot slit almost at the point where her cunt was sliding up and down around Renault's cock.

"Uuuuuuuhhhhhhh!" Patty screamed at the painful, sudden assault, and then she was gasping and mewling as Jessup flexed his hips once, twice, three times, fucking into her wide stretched rectum with sharp, short strokes. She stopped momentarily her mad riding of Renault's penis, and he grasped both her tits in his hands and squeezed them until she shouted with pain, and he bit the one nipple almost hard enough to draw blood from it.

"Keep fucking me, keep fucking me!" he bellowed up at her.

She groaned and began her movements again, and then her anal passage grew accustomed to the fleshy, turgid shaft imbedded there; each ridge and muscle in her asshole contracted and gripped the invading cock, just as the muscles of her cunt were doing around the older man's still rockhard penis. She fucked back and then down, back and then down, attuning her movements to the strokes of the two pricks inside her. Renault's hands were still squeezing her breasts and he made small grunting animal sounds as he sucked and licked and nibbled at her nipple; behind her, Jessup clutched harshly at her hips as he thrust into her warm, forbidden depths of her rectum, the pressure of his straining, jerking thighs forcing her forward, forcing her one free tit to swirl and dance madly around Renault's heaving face.

"That's it, baby, that's it!" Jessup groaned as he fucked into her from behind, pushing the rubbery flesh of her anal passage before his lunging cock in rippling waves in her warm, greedy back channel.

Patty's vagina seemed to have a suction of its own as it worked up and down on Renault's cock, and she felt the man's hardened penis pushing against Jessup's sodomizing her anus so that the thin membrane of her vaginal and rectal walls seemed to not exist at all; it was as if the two parallel cocks were one, fused together in her two openings like a Siamese twin, a huge, monstrous Siamese cock tearing her body to wonderful, rapturous shreds from below and from behind. She could feel her cum building to the point of overflowing, and she knew it wouldn't be long before her orgasm took hold of her. She worked like a possessed woman, fucking down and back, taking and holding every inch of the two men inside her, fucking them rhythmically with her wet, lubricious loins, rolling and gyrating her hips and her crotch.

"Fuck me, both of you fuck me harder, harder, harderrrrrrr!" she cried out in a strange pleading voice. "I want you to… fuck me… fuck me… spew your loads into my cunt and into my asshole… fuck me, cum inside me, make me cum with you…

Her words, so obscene, incited Jessup to crazed, savage thrusts behind her; incited Renault to jerk his hips up off the bed and meet her downward thrust, grinding his shaft deeper into her cunt, ramming the swollen head against her cervix time and again. The exquisite unison of the two pistoning cocks and her own abandoned, frenzied twistings made the sight of the threesome on the bed seem to the watching eyes of the man who had come in with Harold Jessup, Carter Laufgren, to be like a six-legged crab gone mad, a surrealistic montage of a seance a trois. It was unbelievable!

Laufgren's cock was vibrating with rigid intensity as he stared at the woman and the two men on the bed. He began to stroke his shaft slightly, feeling the cum build in his own balls, and suddenly he, too, had to join in this crazed lustful scene which he was witnessing. He rushed forward and sat on the bed near Renault's head, twisting so that his cock brushed against Patty's outflung arm. Quickly, he raised her hand from the bed and placed it around his cock, moving it up and down in a few short strokes so that she knew what he wanted, and then released it. Patty's hand began to jack him off, faster and faster, expertly drawing the foreskin back and out, until he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as the cauldrons of his sperm-bloated balls verged on the moment of ejaculation.

Renault and Jessup were fucking Patty with a savage vengeance now, the latter's balls slapping loudly, wetly, against her crotch; and she fucked them down and back, grinding her pelvis and her buttocks, machinelike, on the fleshy rods, reveling in the lewd gushing sounds of her vaginal fluid and their early seminal emissions. She was vaguely aware of the unknown but hotly erect cock she was masturbating with her right hand, and that perverse act only seemed to increase her lust, her crescending orgasm. It wouldn't be long now, it wouldn't be long now.

Suddenly, Renault jerked upward, seeming to freeze immobile with his hips raised off the bed for a long moment, his cock burned to its hilt in the soft, petaled folds of her pussy. Then a thin, pig-like squeal rendered from his throat, and words that were almost incoherent burst into the sex-perfumed air; "Cumming, there… there cumming, ccccuuuummmmiiiinnnngggg, oooohhhhh… aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

And Patty felt the first hot torrents of his cum gush against her womb like lancing flames of some raging inferno, filling her vaginal tunnel with sticky hot fire, overflowing it and cascading like some obscene waterfall around his now wildly jerking member to coat her pubic hair, mat them together with long sticky strands like evil threads of silk. And then, behind her, Jessup howling like a wounded beast, battering into her asshole with demoniacal force as his own climax seized hold of him. His great cock began to geyser forth thin, needlelike jets of cum, a different man's cum, to fill her rectum as Renault's seed was filling her cunt, fill it to overflowing so that Jessup's sperm burst out around his penis and flowed down to mix and blend with Renault's in her crotch and on his belly. And then the man whom she was masturbating cried out, a low wailing moan, and she felt his cock twitch and jerk against her stroking palm and still another stream of cum, like a torrent of blood pulsing from a severed artery, shot from the eye in his glans, shot straight up into the air to fall on Patty's wildly flailing hair, fall on her cheeks and stream into her hungrily opened mouth like droplets of molten lava.

And in that moment, as the two cocks inside her body, and the one roaring forth in her hand, poured white-hot seed into her and onto her, Patty felt her own climax surge, surge, and then;

She was there!

She too was cumming!

Pinwheels of light, all different colors; reds and blues and greens and yellows, kaleidoscopically spinning, exploded in back of her eyes and the very essence of her being soared free, ascending to that Shangri-La, bringing her to a pinnacle of wicked pleasure that she had never even dreamed of existed, never thought possible to achieve. She screamed. She screamed long and loud for the cocks gushing their fluid never to stop gushing, never to stop transporting her on this uncontrollable ride to blissful rapture.

"Aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

She jerked and bucked and twisted like a dancer gone berserk, endeavoring to ingest every drop of cum, inundate her whole body, inside and out, with hot, gushing male sperm. Her tongue worked frantically over her lips, licking and swallowing the juice of the man she was jacking off, as the seeds of Renault and Jessup commingled in her belly and painted her crotch and saturated the bed. When first Renault's, and then Jessup's, pricks went limp and withdrew from her, she cried out mindlessly, soullessly for them to stay hard, stay inside her. But it was too late, they were gone… and gone, too, was the cock from her hand, having deflated and slid wetly from her cum-moistened palm.

Patty collapsed sideways, falling on her stomach to the side of the older man, her eyes still squeezed tightly shut. She was utterly exhausted, drained, now that her own orgasm was beginning to wane. She lay there, unable to think, feeling a welcome lethargy begin to flow over her, feeling herself begin to drift on a cloud of satiation. Dimly, she heard the voices of the men she had just fucked, and been fucked by:

"Goddamn, I never had anything that good!"

"The best I ever had…”

"I thought my balls were going to burst, she was beating my meat so hard! I never had a cum like that…!"

She smiled in dreamy satisfaction. Yes, she thought sleepily, it was good, so very good, two cocks inside me and one in my hand is one of the most beautiful feelings I've ever known, to make them all cum together, and to cum with them, is the most wonderful feeling in the world… I'm nothing but a sick, depraved whore but oh God, I loved it, I loved every single rapturous moment of it…!

The last thing Patty felt were Rick Renault's hands turning her gently onto her back, opening her legs again, and then, seconds later, his soft, moist, tender kiss of gratitude on her wet, petal like cunt lips…

Chapter 8

Patty was awakened from her drowsy state of completion by a steady shaking. She looked up through still drugged and sleepy eyes at the smiling face of Renault, who was bending over her, his hand still prodding her shoulder.

“C’mon, Patty, wake up. Wake up,” he said in a soft voice.

“Yes, Rick, I’m awake. What is it? More marijuana? It’s wearing off and I could use some more.”

“A little later, my dear. First, let’s go out in the garden.”

“The garden? Why there?” She sat up, trying to focus on the dim shape above her, moving her eyes around the bedroom. The others… Jessup and Laufgren, were gone now.

“Haven’t you ever fucked out in the open, Patty?" Renault asked solicitously. “It’s the best way I knew… under the stars, with only the trees and grass around… really back to nature, which is what sex is all about, isn’t it?”

“Mmmmmm,” Patty hummed, her thighs and nipples tingling at the idea. “Yes, it sounds like freedom itself. Let’s go out to the garden, lover, and screw each other into the earth.

Slowly she rose from the bed, her nakedness a delightful enhancement to the moment. Her pubic hair rippled and brushed against her thighs as she staggered uncertainly toward the door. Renault walked next to her, one hand kneading a breast, a nervous state of excitement making his lustful penis leap into full, throbbing erection. Patty fondled the cock as they continued out through the study and into the balmy night air, the cool ground making her toes contract and tingle. They sauntered into the oleanders, following a little path which wound among the shrubbery, lushly grassed clearing with a little fish pond and fountain at one end.

“Here,” he murmured in her ear. “Let’s fuck here.” He slipped his tongue into her mouth and pressed his nudity hard against her, rubbing hips and thighs together, bringing in the rush of openness, a deep tremor of real response from her.

Then she turned, and the sigh which was forming on her lips turned to an expression of shock. For out of the shadowed woods came, one by one, Harold, Pete, George, and Carter. Ugly leers of carnality contorted their drugged faces, and their bare bodies glistened with the sweat of recent perversity.

“What… what is this, Rick?”

“Surprise, Patty. A little surprise party of your very own.”

She heard snickers from the men, and her stomach began to clutch at itself with dread. The numbing influence of the smoking fled with the fear she suddenly experienced, and as she gaped at the surrounding circle of lust-excited males. Perhaps she could take them all on if she were still under marijuana, but now she was completely conscious! At last she managed to say to Renault, “Pl… please, Rick, I beg you, tell me what’s going on?”

“Sure,” Harold said, “tell her, Rick. It was your idea, after all.”

Renault shrugged nonchalantly. “Patty, my dear, you have to understand my position. You see, your friend Marcia was a little careless one evening, I’m afraid. She, ah, posed for some pictures.”

“Pictures? Marcia?”

“Yes. Here, see for yourself.”

For the first time, Patty noticed that Renault was carrying a brown manila envelope in his left hand, and he opened it and took out a set of full color glossy snapshots. One by one Renault handed the photos to Patty, making lewd comments with each one.

“I think there’s enough moonlight for you to be able to see the actions clearly. How’s this one, with her sucking a cock?”

She gasped as she saw Marcia’s mouth stretched wide over a man’s enormous shaft, her lips locked on it as though they were stitched to him. A ripple of sensation passed through Patty as she wondered who was the male with so big a penis as that, for it was much bigger than Frank’s or Val’s or any of the men’s assembled here. She flipped guiltily to the next one, which was of her friend sitting on a couch with her legs spread wide apart and she could see the man was kneeling between her thighs, his tongue clearly curling into the spread vaginal lips. And again, she could feel a slight involuntary moistness beginning in her own cunt and her hands began to shake as the emotions on Marcia’s face transmitted themselves to her own body.

“Look, Patty,” Renault added. “She’s really enjoying it, isn’t she?”

“Yes, yes she is,” Patty breathed as her eyes locked on yet another pose. Marcia was on a bed with her legs wide apart and a man between them, clearly Val Robbins, his cock sunk all the way her open vagina. The camera angle was able to pick up the thick member disappearing into the soft, hair-fringed folds of her cunt, with only a tiny portion of it showing wet and purplish. Marcia’s expression was one of depravity and ecstasy. Patty squirmed slightly, pressing her legs together to hold down the fire which was brewing deep in her loins.

“These are terrible, Rick,” she said hoarsely. “I’m sure Marcia never knew they were being taken, for she’d never consent to doing that in front of a camera.”

Renault took the pictures back and replaced them in the envelope. “True, she didn’t know. But the facts are they were taken, and I’ve been offered a considerable amount of money for them. Just think of the thousands of men; dirty, greasy old men masturbating in their fly-specked hotel rooms with a bottle of wine and these pictures. Your Marcia will be nationally famous, my dear!”

“But… what has that got to do with me?”

“These men have kindly decided to buy the pictures from me for the same amount I was offered. Each one is going to chip in a fourth, but in return, they each want you. Not singly, not over a period of time, but now, all at once, in an old fashioned gang-bang. I said you might do it… for your friend’s benefit.”

“You can’t be serious!” she flared. “You must be mad!”

“Well, if you really don’t want to, we won’t force you, but if you want to keep Marcia, poor, dumb Marcia, from such notoriety, then you’d best cooperate. Can you imagine what it would be like to have her husband get hold of this set? Say maybe from one of his buddies who happened to buy them?"

Patty’s blood boiled. She could have flung herself at Renault and scratched his eyes out, but then her thoughts went back to Marcia. She began to cool down a little as she considered the consequences of those pictures. Marcia would be ruined.

“You’re not exactly giving up anything, anyway, Patty,” Renault said. “After all, you’d probably get around to sleeping with each of these gentlemen sooner or later anyway.”

Patty moaned at his words, and tears of humiliation and sorrow began to roll down her cheeks. Renault’s words were all too true. She was little more than a prostitute lately, screwing any man who came along. She wasn’t worth saving, but Marcia was, and maybe this one act of evil might somehow result in good. She looked around at the clustered men, staring at their waiting nakedness and she was filled with overwhelming self-loathing.

She tried to speak, but words escaped her. Her tear-wet eyes again traveled over the assemblage, but no mercy was shown, and she realized that there was nothing she could do except submit: She was alone, and would probably be forced to let them fuck her even if she didn’t agree, and so silently she lowered herself to the soft earth arid arranged herself on her back, spread-eagled. She glanced up at the naked body of Rick Renault, who stood with his hand on his hips, his wrinkled penis erect and hovering menacingly, his hairy sac hanging like a water filled balloon at its base.

“All right,” she whimpered in a strange, defeated tone. “Do it to me. All of you, if that’s what you want!”

The men closed in, forming a tight circle above her, and she watched in wild-eyed agony as they bent over her to drink in the moonlit nakedness of her loveliness, their lust twisted faces unbelievable visages of desire. She could barely breathe with the air so filled with the pungency of their rigid genitals, and for a moment she thought she might faint from the odor, and hoped she would.

Renault started to kneel, his hands groping toward her breasts with a clawlike grab, but then Pete caught him and said, “Wait a minute, Rick.” His eyes were on Patty as he talked, beady with perversion and excitement. “You’ve had her before. We haven’t. Let me fuck her first.”

‘‘No, I…"

“Yes, Rick,” broke in Pete’s manager, Harold. “Let Fugazi go down on her first. I want to see her face when he does.”

“Yeah, let him have her,” chimed in Carter.

Renault grinned and stood up. “All right, big one. But leave some for the others, though.”

Patty froze in terror as the bald fighter dropped to his knees between her widespread thighs, his nose quivering and his lips licking at the feast of her sparsely fleeced loins. Then his head moved down between her spread thighs, and Patty moaned as she realized he was about to plunder her cunt in full view of everybody. Oh God, if only she had the marijuana maybe she could stand it, but not like this, not fully conscious, even she hadn’t sunk that low!

“Please… Pete… take me into the bushes. Don’t… do it here,” she pleaded up at him, tearfully.

Pete only chuckled crudely, and Harold egged him on by saying, “C’mon, boy. Can’t you see how bad she wants you? “Lick the little whore’s fucking honey-pot right now!”

A convulsive spasm jerked her body as his lips pressed against the naked plane of her open vagina. She cried out from his touch, but the sudden wet contact sent a chill racing the length of her spine, paralyzing her brain. His slobbering tongue lapped the pink, blood-pumped vulva, parting her pubic hair, snaking into the crack of her moist, protesting pussy.

A cheer went up from the spectators, and another shudder ran through Patty as he came in contact with her trembling clitoris. She felt his rough, knobby fingers clamp against her thighs and force them yet wider, and she looked down between her breasts at him, her eyes widened in terror at seeing him hunched on all fours like some ravaging beast. He came up for air and grinned lewdly at her, his mouth and cheeks one glistening area of wetness, and then he licked his lips and fell again on her defenseless crotch, devouring it as though it was a victim of a preying animal.

Patty tried to lie motionless, the grinning faces, the throbbing cocks around her all waiting their turn, gone from her vision as she blotted them out of her mind. But then Pete exposed her pink-tinged slit with his thumbs, bringing oohhs and aaghs and harsh, sucked-in breaths from the men and again she had to look, and again she saw him drop his head and bury the full length of his slippery tongue into the warm, throbbing walls of her pussy.

She ground her buttocks into the grass, whimpering wildly under his depraved assault. Then he nibbled the erect bud of her clitoris with his sharp teeth, drawing her tingling bud of eroticism into his mouth to suck on it and roll it around with his tongue. She cried out and with a horrified expression, she saw the nightmare of him rolling his head from side to side in her cunt, in time to the chants and clappings of the crowd who were clamoring for more.

It can’t be! It can’t be! she groaned over and over to herself in pagan humiliation, the moonlight streaming down to highlight her wretched predicament, to pinpoint the man who was flailing wildly into her cunt with his spearing tongue. Dear God! I have to fight this with all my might! I mustn’t succumb to myself, even though I must to them!

But as Pete’s sucking tongue snaked lizard-like into her straining cunt, burrowing like a jackrabbit in the soft, fleshy folds of her vagina, her betraying hips again for the second time tonight began to respond involuntarily, and a flickering fire of wanton emotion began to spark within her womb. Tiny wisps of forbidden pleasure began to purl down in her belly and her ripe breasts jiggled sensuously from the buffeting of her lower body. Fire was rapidly replacing revulsion… she had never felt so subjugated so debauched in all her life, even back there with three of them on her at once. And wasn’t this what she had hoped for when she came to the party? Demons danced wickedly along her skin, and her soft flesh quivered desperately to quell the searing, hot lashes which licked maddeningly at her naked body. And her desperate, subconscious cries of help to the Almighty went unheeded, the fire roaring out of control. She saw in blurred vision the head of Rick Renault nod in triumph at her lewd surrender, felt her fingers hook like talons around the gleaming skull of Fugazi, and felt a low, soul searing moan rasping from her dry throat.

She ground her cunt up to his face, pulling him over her in an attempt to get his cock to jam itself in her pussy, for his maddening lickings had made her want his penis like a woman possessed. And then Renault was there, his face above hers, his own cock jutting from his kneeling body above her. Forgotten was her debasement, her shame, her fears, for the devils danced and she needed but one thing now a cock… any cock… but cock it had to be! Renault grinned and he yanked Fugazi off her. “I want to fuck her, Pete. I’m going to cum right now, all over the place if I don’t shove it inside her.”

“Put in a stroke for me,” Fugazi growled, but he rolled aside and then Renault was on Patty, kissing her lips and nose and neck while her tongue slavered over his victoriously grinning face. Then she reached between them and guided his thin penis, its blood-filled head a questing rodent of its own, into the now gaping gorge of her cunt. He smashed down on her, making her emit a deep groan as her buttocks were ground hard down into the earth. He levered up, ramming his familiar cock as far as possible into her clasping, hungered vagina. His balls smacked loudly against her upturned ass, his hard, hairy stomach boring hotly into the yielding softness of her belly.

She strained against him, wanting more, much more of him inside that insane cuntal passage she possessed. “Fuck deeper! Fuck deeper, old man!” she screamed frantically. She clutched at the cheeks of his driving buttocks and drove his prick into her. “Oh Christ, you’re not enough!” she wailed. You’re not enough!”

The Laufgren brothers laughed at this, and jibbed Renault at not being man enough. Renault, his face contorted with a mixture of lust and fury, crammed his tongue into Patty’s mouth in an effort to compensate, the saliva drooling down her chin unheeded. Rabidly, she sucked on it, her body caught in the convulsive vortex of naked, raw passion. She could not, did not want to fathom why she was as venerous as this… but she was. Cock! Cock! That was all; she had to have cock!

She howled with frustration, splaying her legs beyond reason to allow him greater access to her steaming, gyrating whirlwind of pussy, but he was unable to take full advantage. His lashing weapon drubbed her cunt mercilessly, bringing gasps of pain from him as his pelvis hammered her crotch with brutal, splattering drives, and then he came, groaning with the force of his ejaculation, the sperm drowning the walls of her savage vagina with the hot, scalding milk of his lust.

She bucked beneath him maddeningly trying to bring about her own release, but as he finished the spewing of his obscene seed, she cried out with the subsequent disappointment. Too soon! Too damned soon! She had almost been there, satisfying her tortured cunt, and the peak was within a minute of two of realization. She strained at his deflating rod until he pulled from her wetly clasping hole with a lewd slurping sound. She read fuzzily the surprised look on his face as he rose from her, and she kicked at him to get away, the fire raging uncontrollably.

Then she thrust her crotch in the air, moaning, “More! More!” tears of hunger streaming down her face. She gaped upwards at the night, the torment of her loins clouding any thought of escape. Then she saw Fugazi, the giant Italian fighter, standing like Thor above her, his mighty thunderbolt in his hands. He was stroking its shaft lightly, absolute slut perversion brimming his eyes, and Patty stared with fascination.

His cock was as large as a gargantuan salami, and about the same color. He grinned down at her, waving the hardened spectacle at her, his prick rearing from his thighs like a third leg. Groggily she estimated its size in yardage rather than inches, and the two sperm carrying containers below its base hung like sacks of cement. She was reminded of a giant cannon and two cannon balls ready to roar in belching flames of action.

She jerked her feasting eye from his cock and balls to once more stare up at the circle of faces, her mind dimmed in a manner she could not comprehend, and then she locked her eyes once more on Fugazi’s fantastic fulcrum. She gasped in terror, her mind unable to comprehend that… thing… inside her cunt.

“No… not that, Pete! You mustn’t! It isn’t true! You’re wearing something! That can’t be all yours!”

He laughed, long and hard, and said, “It’s mine, baby. And it’s going to be all yours in a minute, even if I tear you apart!"

The others came closer, leering, sneering, as if to get a bird’s-eye view of the marvel which they were about to see. The Laufgren brothers squatted on either side of her and grasped her ankles, holding them apart and steady. Her delicate, coral slit nestling in the pubic down flowered in full, unrestrained view as she struggled, opening and closing like a mouth of a gulping sea bass, and out of nowhere came a hand to pinch the nipple of her left tit, withdrawing as quickly as it attacked.

Fugazi positioned himself between her thighs, and then on his signal, the Laufgren brothers raised her ankles, bending them to her writhing body until they were doubled all the way back, her toes near her head, and she groaned from the pain. Her face was contorted with anguish, every muscle in her body feeling as though it was torn asunder, and the flat plane of her luscious, hair-covered pussy was presented in all its splendor to the kneeling throng.

Fugazi grinned down at her, as he had when he was sucking her cunt then with his lips bared back in a cry of plundering, his fine, white teeth glimmering in the moonlight, he began to stroke his immense cock with both hands as if in greedy preparation for the assault upon her helpless offering. His body swayed on his great knees, his skin sweat stained in a brilliant glow. He shuffled backwards awkwardly, his huge, bursting prick thrust toward Patty, quivering out of balance from the load of blood it carried like a top-heavy tree trunk.

Patty was awed, and the tremendous passion built up inside her lessened considerably as she gaped hysterically at the writhing torso of a penis. She stared through her splayed thighs, unable to drag her eyes from it. It mesmerized her like a snake to a flute.

Then, Fugazi jerked his loins, and she found that she was lifting her buttocks to meet him as if she were under some kind of hypnotic spell, searching with her gaping vagina the horrendous cudgel which was to tear her in two. She wanted him! All of him! She cringed in horror, but she had to have that cock!

The other men stared with unconcealed jealousy as the blue-veined monster nuzzled its head at the hungry opening between her legs, waggling for a moment as a stallion might, poking at the pink, rounded slit of flesh, gently opening the lips wider.

“Be easy, Pete,” she moaned breathlessly, “Oh for God’s sake, be easy!”

“Ram her, Pete,” yelled Renault in satyrical vengeance, gripping his own limp shaft tightly. “Marcia and Sylvia couldn’t take you, but that bitch can! She’s got the cunt for it, I know! Go on, ram it into her!“

Then, as if he was jumping off a hundred foot cliff into a canyon below, Fugazi leaped upon her, a wild cry of abandonment tearing from his throat: “Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhh ssshhhhhhheeeeeeeiiiiiiiitttttttttttt.

Patty threw back her head and screamed insanely; “AAAAAAAhhhhg, God!” She tried to free her legs from the ruthless imprisoning, but Pete forced his chunky, expanding penis inside the quivering lips of her hair-covered cunt, brutally exploiting the stubborn, rubbery flesh almost to the ripping point. Patty wrenched at the hands which imprisoned her, kicking and squirming to escape this inhuman, agonizing impalement. But the men and Pete’s cock held her tight.

“Uuuuuuggggggghhhhhh! It’s too big! It’s splitting me in half! Stop! Stop!” She was certain her pussy lips were stretched wafer thin, and that her vaginal walls had collapsed from the insurmountable pressure of Pete’s hydraulic hammer. The pain seethed through her like electric charges of flesh-searing lightning.

Pete took a deep breath and leaned toward her, pushing in further…

“AAAARrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggg! Oh God, please take it out!“ she screamed at the top of her lungs.

The men around her tortured body leaned closer over her hot, perspiring form, their faces hanging agape as if hypnotized by her straining nakedness inches away from them. She was dimly aware of hands clutching and squeezing and massaging her breasts and fingers clawing over every part of her body like giant insects.

“Nooooo,” she sobbed, “Nooooo!” She was half hysterical with tears flowing in great gushes from her pain blinded eyes. Pete thrust again, plowing his giant cock into the deep furrows of her tightly resisting passage, pressing great waves of her pink soft cuntal flesh rippling before it. She quaked spasmodically as the gigantic rod plunged, her mind racing in frantic reasoning as the huge monster filled her, crushing her inner organs as it dug deeper and deeper into her quivering young belly. It seemed to fill her to her throat, tearing the very soul from her body, devouring her flesh as he flexed the colossus once, twice. Her life was being torn from her in mouthfuls of depraved sensuality, and there was nothing left but this horrendous cock fucking down between her legs.

With an earthquaking thud Pete’s pelvis crashed resoundingly against the wide-split crevice of her ass. His immense semen inflated sac swaggered with the effort his magnificent muscle lay imbedded deep inside her quivering cunt like the great rod of a stud bull. He stopped, holding still above her, knowing that he had hurt her, and he waited for her to become accustomed to the presence of his huge prick in her tormented belly, He watched her pain wracked face as she gnashed her teeth and bit her lip.

Then he flexed again and she groaned uncontrollably from deep inside and reclenched her teeth, the sound of the anguished girl less as the pain subsided in her hot throbbing lesion. He began a slow revolving motion with his pelvis, grinding his cock into her naked cunt, stretching the still cringing wails of her vagina until he fit like a Goliathic sword in a Davidean sheath.

She raised her eyes, a deranged feeling of pride running through her at the idea of being able to accept all of Pete, as unbelieving faces stared at the pussy which was able to swallow the whole of the prick. She knew that they stared and why, and in her dazed, warped mind she also made out the lewdly rubbing hands as they caressed her ass cheeks and fingered her stretched pussy where Pete was stuck. She felt a fingertip probe of her anus, beneath the soft, swaying bags of his testicles, flirting teasingly with the defenseless hole like a dog tongue. She winced as the finger probed, suddenly popping inside the tight sphincter ring to worm its way through the spongy passage inside, enlarging the rectum until the palm of the invading hand rested against her buttocks and the entire digit was buried securely within the puckered, pulsating hole.

Pete commenced a racking, saw-like motion in and out of Patty’s moist, flesh-filled pussy, plunging piteously from the crest of his withdrawal and ramming her agony strewn body mercilessly against the finger in her asshole. The two foreign objects which had violated the sanctity of her femininity became a dual fucking team, the massive cock and the probing finger raising whimpers and whines of passion from her mouth as they kept up the obscene cadence with their duo rhythm. Her torture was changing to a strange sensation of tingling joy as the outrageous defilement and subjugation aroused the full masochistic feelings she had withheld.

Her strong hips began to gyrate with unanticipated movements in an abandoned harmony with the ever increasing speed of the cock and finger fucking her. Hands from the circle of admirers groped to help while faces leered down at her with hungered expressions.

“AAAAaaaahhhhhhh.” she heard herself yell, “Fuck me! Fuck me!” she whimpered piteously. “Oh God yes! Fuck me this way!” she mewled, writhing her body lustfully amidst the clutching hands and fingers which crawled over her vibrant flesh everywhere. Hands were beating their master’s cocks to the same beat of her fucking… large ones… small ones… fat ones… she was in a penis paradise, and all the time the most magnificent of them all was imprisoned in her cunt, hungrily screwing itself with each growing thrust like an immense, oversized gourd.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” she cadenced as the delicious assault of her asshole and cunt continued, “Don’t ever stop! Don’t ever stop!" She was strapped between their battering lust like an animal ensnared. Her mind reeled and she rotated her upthrusted ass higher and higher as she endeavored to keep pace with the twin shafts of flesh pummeling into her like an automized fucking machine.

Then she felt someone seize her hand and place a cock in it, pressing her fingers snugly around it. She began to jerk and stroke it in mutual tempo, while Pete’s huge prick drubbed her throbbing pussy and the finger pulsated in her heaving anus. Then another penis was put into her left hand… she had cocks, cocks everywhere!

Suddenly Pete rolled his eyes moronically around their sockets and he cried out in a guttural wail. His heavy balls began to force gush after gush of his hot, thick sperm deep into her constricted womb. “No! No! Wait! Wait!” she yelled at him, but again it was too late. She tried to stop his stream by grinding her seething crotch up against his pelvis tightly, but the very nature of her sucking movement defeated her purpose. The desperate grasping of her unsatiated cunt milked him dry, the final dregs of his vast load of cum gurgling deep within her distended belly.

The Laufgren brothers loosened their hold on Patty’s legs and pulled Pete off her still writhing body. A sticky trail of white cum stretched from his uselessly drained and deflating cock across the milky whiteness of her naked thighs, only to be broken as Harold thrust himself upon her, cradling his stiff penis in her squirming cunt like a jackhammer.

Patty jerked upwards to meet him animalistically, his face a blurred nonentity above her as she struggled wildly to achieve the climax she had so far been denied.

“Christ!” Renault exclaimed, his voice only faintly registering in her passion-crazed brain, “Look at her Fuck!”

“You were right, Rick, you sure as hell were right!” came the unmistakably lewd voice of Carter Laufgren.

A shudder of wanton delight surged through her raw, nerve tingling body as their obscene words were heaped upon her helplessness. Her breasts heaved and quivered, and she surged against Harold with her hardened nipples like they were sharp buttons on a skintight coat… until her insane fucking came to a tidal wave cresting, and a searing, indescribable elation roaring through her madly rotating loins, the lips of her hair-lined cunt working and grabbing at his penis, her breath rasping in short, gasps as the lightning bolt of her orgasm jolted her from the top of her skull down to her toenails.

“OOOOOoooooooooohhhhhhhh Ggggggggooooooodddddddd!” she wailed, “I’m ccccuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmiiiiiiinnnnnnngggggg!” She rapped the cocks in her hands, and they spewed forth their jets of viscid fluid over her hotly naked breasts and belly, dribbling down her ribs and sides like melted vanilla ice cream.

Harold came, his plunging shaft pouring its lust driven load into her quaking womb, and as soon as he was off her, another mounted her, and then another as Patty wallowed in the lewd, mucid pools of their sperm, chastising and debasing herself in her maniacal arousal, her mind a befogged mass of unintelligible cerebration.

Then they ordered her to get on her knees, and they grabbed impatiently at her hips to help. Her head reeled as she got on all fours, and then she felt the first body kneeling behind her open thighs, and she waggled the stretched orbs of her ass as the blunt end of the invader’s cock rammed into the sperm-soaked gash of her cunt. She heard him groan and then thrust again, shoving her forward.

Carter had knelt in front of her and shoved his still wet, semen splattered cock into her gaping mouth, and then he held her head by her hair, and sawed her face savagely. She gagged as he rammed his tool to the back of her throat, her ovalled lips brushing the short, wiry hair of his groin, his balls slapping harshly against her chin. She fought for breath, managing to catch it on the outstroke of his cruel buffeting.

The two men pummeled her body between them, and once more the lustful mental vision of her helplessness made her more excited. The desire deep inside her belly became a rabid torrent once more and she began to roll her buttocks high up behind her in a circulating movement, constricting with her cunt muscles at the hot, fleshy, pole burrowing into her. She wanted to exploit it to the limit, to saturate her womb with boiling cum until it spluttered out of her glutted cunt to rivulet down her thighs in a thick, hot mass of sheer sexual abandonment. She sucked insatiably at the stubby penis in her mouth, her cheeks concaving and her tongue swirling. She stabbed the dilated orifice where the sperm would soon be shooting, and she wanted the juice to pour down her gullet and warm her entrails until she was drenched with sperm inside and out.

She got her wish!

At the same time her second climax started, the cock fucking her dog fashion bulged into a crescendo and spurting its creamy hot charge, splashing and shooting violently against her cunt walls, then drizzling back out of her to drip from her saturated vaginal hair. His balls massaged her clitoris causing her to jerk forwards, submerging the prick she was sucking to its very hilt. It roared with sudden discharge, flooding her mouth and throat with the deliciously pungent liquid, bloating her cheeks. She swallowed fast and greedily, clasping her lips together in a tight ring around the prick so as to not lose a single drop. Still, some of his cum managed to dribble down her chin, and she lashed out her tongue in a sweeping, snakelike motion to salvage the strings of sticky semen as the limp penis pulled free of her lips with a wet, sucking sound.

Patty skewered her ass back savagely onto the still spurting cock in her cunt and with a wail from between her gnashing teeth, she felt her own body explode in a burst of showering stars. Her body writhed in the racking, agonizing ecstasy that sent her whirling madly into outer space. Then she felt the clouds roll over her and she fell forward on her face and merciful oblivion overtook her.

Chapter 9

As she awoke, the sun was just beginning to lighten the early morning sky. She was alone, and the garden was deathly quiet, and at first she had trouble orienting herself as to where she was. She somehow staggered to her feet, and as she did, a small shower of pictures shed from her head and shoulders like a rain of filth. It took only one cursory glance to tell her that the photos were the ones she had bargained her body for, and that she had been successful in saving Marcia from exposure.

She collected them with a dazed, almost incoherent mind, the muscles and ligaments of her torn and battered body a mass of pain as she bent over to pick them up. She staggered back to the house and found it deserted, except for the houseboy who was asleep in his little bedroom off the library. Her dress was miraculously where she had left it, in the bedroom where she had been feathered by Renault, and slowly, agonizingly she dressed and cleaned herself up a bit.

She went straight to bed when she arrived at Marcia’s house an hour later, and stared at the flowered pattern on the wallpaper. She knew that she had been fucked by God only knew how many men long after she had passed out, even though she obviously couldn’t remember it, been treated like a cold corpse under necrophiliac pummeling.

Her mind was the degraded, humiliated, something less than human object it had been the day before, and she was totally unconcerned whether she lived or died. She was aware that even though her ravished, battered, and bruised body would heal physically, she doubted that anything could ever eliminate the horrible mental injury she had.

She tried to shake the memory of the savage assaults made upon her last night, but then she would remember the pictures and that she has allowed such viciousness to be done to her, and she convulsed in tremors… She should have been filled with repugnance and loathing, but instead she had to admit that she had been an integral part of the action, enjoying and pleading for more and more and more. Oh God! The appalling truth of her debauched personality was too much to bear!

Suicide… yes, she had to kill this horrid creature before it infected others… it wasn’t suicide, it was more of euthanasia, for it would be merciful to end the suffering and torment she was flooded with. Yet there was still a message in the back of her mind which said to live, not die. Perhaps it was the last vestige of her pride, or her stubborn, determined resolve not to let her failure be taken as total defeat. The dim, dazed recesses of her brain fought desperately for survival.

Nevertheless, Patty pulled back the covers and groped her way toward the bathroom. The razor… the sharp, clean razor which would simply and surgically slice her wrists and let the perverted blood of her despicable flesh pour out into the cleansing air.

She got to the medicine cabinet and took the razor with which she shaved her underarms and legs, and removed the thin rectangle of death… It glinted in the bathroom’s fluorescent light as if it was an angel, winking at her, encouraging her to die. She placed it by the rim of the bathtub and turned on the water and adjusted the flow of medium warm. She had read somewhere that lying in the water and slitting the wrists makes it painless. You merely waste away, the clear water turning milky pink, then bright red and then burgundy as the life forces ebbed away. You slept after a long, drowsy period of relaxation. It sounded good and soothing to her wounded spirit to go that way. She watched the water, not in a hurry but then not willing to live any longer than she had to, either.

The phone rang.

She ignored the sound, intent on the gushing water. It rang again and again and again until its persistent jangling made her irritated… she couldn’t die with all that noise… she walked into the kitchen, unmindful that the window curtains were aside and her lovely nakedness was for the passing world to view, and she picked up the receiver.

“Hello?” she said. “Marcia isn’t home.”

“I don’t want Marcia,” came the voice on the other end, “I want you darling.”

“Who…?” and then Patty jerked backwards, almost losing her balance as she realized the man talking was her husband. “Larry!”

“I’ve been trying to reach you all last night and nobody was there. I just got home and darling, I can’t wait to see you. I love you so much.”

“Larry…” Patty, the defenses of her mind shattering from his closeness like straw before a wind, sagged into a chair and cried. “Oh, Larry, what are you doing home?”

“I’m wounded, Patty.”

“Larry!”

“I’m all right, it’s just a leg wound, but I’m out of the service for good. At least the active part. They don’t seem to want one-legged chaps much,” he added dryly.

“One-legged! Oh Larry, oh my precious!” The love she thought was gone for him came leaping back stronger than ever, clogging her throat with the emotion. “Where are you?”

“At my parents, of course. Dad said you were staying at Marcia’s, but he wasn’t too clear why.”

“It’s because…” and then she stopped, and the horror of the past few days welled up like a monster from the ocean depth. “Larry, do you really love me?” she asked impulsively.

“Love you? More than the world itself. Come on home, darling. I need you.”

“You… need… me,” Patty sobbed. “Larry, darling, I need you!”

Patty hung up the phone and raced to the bathroom to turn off the water and replace the razor blade. She had something to live for now…Larry… something which would make her body and mind whole and useful. Yet in the back of her head she also knew that the lessons of the experiences she’d had would not be forgotten. She needed Larry, true; for his love and body and security. She also needed the sex of the others, the wicked hunger of many men wanting and lusting and, yes, needing her. She hoped that she could make Larry understand somehow…

Content

Grant Roberts
The wayward wifes

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9