The long high-ceilinged room buzzed with the low, sophisticated conversation of a large intellectual group of people. White-coated waiters hurried through the crowd balancing trays of drinks in their hands and stopping periodically to replenish the supply of those that held empty glasses. A huge fire burned in the Victorian fireplace that was almost as large as the entrance door itself.
Carol marveled at the wealth displayed here. She couldn't recall ever having been in a home that exhibited so much of it, particularly in such subtle quiet taste. The paintings were the most impressive thing about it. Masters, all of them, sat against the reserved background of hand carved walnut paneling. This, she mused, was wealth in its grandest sense.
"And," she listened dutifully as her host spoke, "the Renoir hanging to the right of the mantelpiece has been in our family since the artist painted it. He gave it to my grandmother as a token of her sponsorship of one of his shows in Paris. This of course, was when he was a complete unknown."
"My," she spoke as the short graying man in his late fifties paused to sip from his drink, "your family certainly seems to have an interesting history, Mr. Thurman."
"Please call me, Randy, Carol my dear, we don't stand on formality here," he quickly corrected her.
"All right then, Randy, I will," she smiled sweetly over the top of her glass at Randolph Thurman the Third. His eyes wandering secretly over the curves of her body had not passed her notice.
That's good, she thought, smiling at the polite conversation he kept up in a steady stream to keep her occupied and from wandering away with anyone else. She felt flattered. Most of the men, at one time or another in the hour or so she and Bob had been here, had made one kind of pass or another at her. Strangely enough, she was enjoying her new kind of role in open society. Until last week when she had her eyes opened at the Burns house she had always been the passive one at affairs like this, but no more. This was the new Carol, the new one who knew what the world was all about and how to go about getting it. She and Bob had made their peace after several days of ignoring each other when for some reason Marsha Burns had let slip about the plan with the lipstick on the shirt and the tape recorder. He had almost crawled on his knees apologizing to her and explaining the entire sordid reason he had ended up there in the first place. She had accepted his apology but still refused to move her things back to their bedroom. She had set up house there and pasted the crumpled two dollar bills over her dressing table mirror to remind her of what he had put her through and of what she had vowed as she had stumbled her way into the house after being screwed half senseless by those two wild men that night. She didn't care what the reason was for all that happened, the cold plain fact was, it had happened.
Bob still hadn't realized it but nothing could ever again be quite the same with them. Something had changed in both of them and she was afraid the major change was in herself. She liked the house they were living in and the way the people were able to live who surrounded them. Obviously, to get ahead and stay there Bob would have to do well with them.
Well, she had promised herself that he damn well would, and she would do all in her power to insure that he did.
California was a community property state where the wife had a right to half the husband's earnings and she had made it quite clear to him that she expected her half at the end of each month deposited in her own account. She was going to watch that crumpled two dollars that had started the whole thing grow by leaps and bounds and after it had grown to an amount she thought reasonable, then she would consider where she and Bob stood.
She had made all of this quite clear to him but she was certain he still didn't believe it. Well, tonight she would show him how to land an account without lifting a finger and would make him squirm at the same time. She would show him she meant what she had said.
"Well, my dear," her host said finally, "that is the complete history of my family. What do you think of it?"
"Why it was just a marvelous story, Randy," she lied, hoping against hope he wouldn't ask her any questions about it. She hadn't really heard one word he had said, she had been so busy with her own thoughts. She would have to watch this wandering mind of hers. If she was going to get anywhere with these people she would have to pay attention and learn as much about them as she could.
"Now," he said, patting her shoulder warmly, "I've told you all about myself, let's hear something about you."
"Well," Carol answered with a feigned shyness, "there isn't really much to say. Certainly nothing that would be as interesting as your background."
"Oh I'm certain you're exaggerating. A beautiful woman like yourself certainly hasn't passed all these years in total obscurity."
"Mmmm," she fluttered her eyes at him, "I'm afraid so. Just a quiet little housewife, trying to keep a working husband happy."
"Well, I should say you are doing a fine job, isn't that him over there talking with my wife, Susan?"
Thurman pointed toward the fireplace where Bob was engaged in conversation with the small blonde woman he had met at the Burns and several other couples.
"Why, yes, yes it is." Carol had lost track of him in the last hour as they had each circulated in their own way.
"Your wife is lovely," she added after studying her for a moment.
"Yes, I think your husband likes her too," he smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "He showed quite a preference for her at the Burns' party the other night."
"W-Were you there," she almost dropped her drink in surprise. Bob had told her they were invited to a party at an important prospect's house, but he hadn't explained that he had met them at the Burns' house.
"Yes, I was, dear. And I must say, that was a brilliant little exhibition you and Harry put on for us. I looked all over for you afterwards but you just disappeared."
"I-I was pretty tired. That was my first time, you know," she said recovering her composure rapidly.
"Yes, I know. Harry explained we would have to wear masks for your first initiation and we don't usually follow such formalities in our little get-togethers. I thought at the time it was rather strange and still don't understand, but it isn't important. It did add a little variety to the evening."
"Well," Carol smiled, "Let's just say I was a little shy the first time."
"Are you still?" he grinned across at her.
"Not in the least," she smiled back.
"Good then, we'll work something out later, all right?"
"Mmmmm," she crinkled her nose at him. "I'd love to."
"Your husband has taken quite a shine to Susan, and knowing her, I think she'll keep him occupied."
"Randy," a vengeful thought came to her mind. "Do you think we could do it in the same room. Both couples at the same time I mean?"
"You aren't shy any more, are you my little bunny?" his eyes lit up in surprise. "I suppose we can work it out. We have two double beds in our bedroom and I know Susan won't mind. Will your husband object?"
"No, he won't," she assured, "But let's make it a surprise for him. He's never seen me with another man, except of course, on that screen. You work it out with your wife that she takes him in the room first and turns out the light, all right?"
"My dear, to get you, I'd do anything," he smiled and taking her hand squeezed it tight. "Come now, I want you to meet some of the others before we play."
"Oh Randy," Carol said suddenly, holding him back by the arm. "You do know that Bob is in the investment business, don't you?"
"Of course, I do." He smiled. "You know the people like us stick together and Harry Burns says he's a very competent young man. I'll let him handle all of our business from now on. Providing, of course," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "you're as good to me as you were Harry."
"You promise?"
"Absolutely, first thing Monday morning. But," he added, "I'm not an easy man to please."
Carol shuddered slightly from this statement as she followed behind him toward a group engaged in an animated argument over something. She hoped too much wouldn't be demanded of her, she had never engaged in any unnatural acts such as the thing she had seen Harry Burns' wife doing to Bob the other night but supposed if she drank enough at first and really had to, she could go through with it.
"Gentlemen," Randy said interrupting the conversation. "I'd like to present Mrs. Carol Benson. Her husband is the new investment banking head for Jordan's bank. A very bright young man who is going places from what I hear. I'm going to leave her with you for awhile while I circulate among the guests. But I warn you," he shook his finger good-naturedly, "I saw her first and no hanky panky while I'm doing my duties."
Carol blushed slightly at his statement, but quickly recovered herself as the three men each introduced themselves in turn. She found herself wondering, with a flush inside her, if any of these had seen her obscene performance with Harry Burns the other night. She was sure not all of these people were part of the group as it was too formal to be one of those mass swap things but still she wondered which they were. She would be glad when she found out so she wouldn't find herself blushing every time she met someone new.
"We were just on the subject of Vietnam, Carol. What do you think about it? Our friend, Roger, here is one of those doves that wants us out of there right now, no guarantees, just out."
"Gentlemen," she laughed sweetly, "I'm just a poor ignorant housewife and know nothing about these faraway problems. You fight it out among yourselves."
She could tell that Roger, obviously a professor, was reaching the fighting point. He seemed so intense about his beliefs.
"Listen, Peter, the only thing I'm saying is that we have no right to be in there killing women and children when it has nothing to do with us. Let them decide among themselves how they want their government to be," he said hotly.
"If you feel so humanitarian about it then take a look at what would happen if we did leave them alone. How many South Vietnamese do you think they would execute immediately?"
Peter continued without giving Roger a chance to answer.
"Look how many have died in Russia, China, and Cuba. The first thing these people do is shoot the leaders and they are left with nothing to lead but the sheep. It's easy to bend sheep to your way of thinking. A thinking man like yourself wouldn't live two minutes if they took over."
"That may be true," Roger replied, the blood flowing to his face in disagreement, "but nothing gives us the right to kill people. All those people want to do is live in peace and be left alone."
"Chamberlain was a peace at any price man in 1936 too. That only cost the world some twenty or twenty five million people killed a few years later."
"You mean you would let our country play God and decide to kill thousands of men on the very vague possibility that it might prevent another war? That's ridiculous," he snorted angrily.
"My good boy," Peter ignored his sputtering. "Man is a very imperfect animal and the only guide one has for the future is history. Well history says it has always happened that way. You let them succeed in Vietnam and the rest of Asia will follow within a matter of years. We shall also have lost the faith of all those people who depend on us now. Whether we like it or not, we are playing father to a good part of the world. That's always been the curse of being strong. We have no choice, Roger my boy."
"That still gives us no reason to send our boys over there to be killed."
Carol could see this little argument was likely to end up in a brawl and wished Randy would come back and get her out of it before it happened. She didn't understand the entire thing anyway, except that what Peter was saying seemed to make more sense than Roger's argument. Her eyes searched around the room for Randy and she inadvertently spotted Bob following Susan through the arched door at the far end. She smiled to herself, thinking of the little surprise in store for him later on. This would go a long way toward gaining the revenge she had sworn the other night.
"Roger," Peter continued, "You have got to admit there are a lot worse things than dying. Perhaps you don't think so but I do. For instance, watching your family starve to death or be humiliated consistently. These are the reasons man has had wars from the beginning of time, to protect his family and the things he has worked for."
"They have fought them for big business, that's why they have fought them," Roger objected violently.
"Oh, horsecrap," Peter answered. "Big business is so controlled by government and unions they no longer matter. All the interests are the same. If the country is poor, the businesses in that country are poor; if the businesses are poor, then the people who work for them are poor. It's as simple as that. Why, did you realize," he shook his finger in Roger's face, "that the people in our so-called poverty rolls are better off than ninety percent of the people in the world. That is not something that happens by accident. It's hard work on the part of most people."
"We still have people suffering from malnutrition from not getting the right things to eat," Roger defended.
"Listen, boy, one more point, and then let's get on to something else. In any kind of society you'll find some people that can't make it to the grocery store a block away either because they're too stupid or too lazy. Now you've got to admit that setting up a trucking service to deliver to these people is going just a little bit too far. Make them walk like the rest of us."
Carol breathed a sigh of relief as Randy walked up and slipped his arm through hers just as Roger opened his mouth to thrash back at Peter. It was an argument that she knew would go on all night and she had more important things to do. She had to get that account for Bob and at the same time give him back a little of his own medicine.
"All right, fellows, you'll have to continue your little soap-box speeches without Carol's company," he smiled. "As host of this party I'm exercising my right to be boorish and spirit her away."
Carol followed him gratefully into the next room which was the bar and also Thurman's trophy room. The walls were lined with the mounted heads of most of the big game animals she had read about or seen in the movies. It was quite impressive.
"Thank you for the timely rescue. I'm such a nit when it comes to things like that," she said when they were standing at the bar.
"To be perfectly frank, my dear, so are they. They will stand and talk for centuries about it and never arrive at any kind of conclusion. The silly thing is that they will never do anything about it either-just drink and talk. That's all."
He laughed softly and shook his head. "What will you have?"
"Do you have any of the green drink they served at the party the other night?" she asked hesitantly.
"Of course, we have," and signaled to the barman for two Pernods.
She didn't want to be too open about it but thought she had better have some kind of fortification to go through with this thing. She wasn't that brave just yet and did have some modesty left although she wondered now why she should worry about it with the position a lot of these people, including Thurman, had seen her in the other night. Evidently, they had switched the screen before Bob came in the room as Thurman had not mentioned it. She was grateful for that, it was bad enough that they had seen her with Burns without her husband's brutal assault too.
"You like Pernod?" he smiled at her an understanding tone in his voice.
"I like the feeling it gives, don't you?"
"Yes, normally I do, but tonight I don't think I would really need it."
She smiled as he ran his eyes appreciatively the full length of her body. She could feel a slight throb inside her as he undressed her with his eyes and had to admit to herself that she was looking forward to his making love to her. This would be the first time she had really willingly done it with another man other than her husband and was anxious to see if she would have the same reaction she had had with Burns when he had taken her against her will. The Pernod flowed smooth and cool down her throat and as she drained the glass she could feel it slowly taking hold. Thurman quickly ordered them another, sensing that she was becoming tense as the time drew nearer. He didn't want any changes of mind now. He had waited patiently all week for this chance after his wife had told him she had met the girl's husband at the party and invited them here tonight.
"Susan should have our husband pretty well under way by now," Thurman said to her over the top of his glass. "And, my dear, I'm getting pretty impatient too. I've looked forward to this all week," he confessed.
"I am too, now that I've seen you," Carol lied. She was still a little nervous but felt her courage returning rapidly with each sip of the milky white drink. Strange what it did to her person, she thought and remembered with bitter memory the lewd, obscene spectacle she must have made out of herself last week when she had lost control of herself and turned into a wild, frenzied animal. She wondered if it would happen this time and found herself hoping it would with Bob in the room. Anyway, this time it would be she who was doing it and not the drink or shock from discovering her husband with another man's wife.
"I'm ready," she smiled, a little uncertainly in her voice.
"Then drink up," Thurman said, "and follow me. We should catch them right in the middle of it."
Carol tipped her drink and drained the glass, grateful for the warm lighthearted feeling it brought. Thurman took her hand and led her through a side door out the bar and up a flight of thickly carpeted stairs. He turned right at the landing and they walked along a hallway with many doors until they reached the end of the corridor.
"Voila, our bedroom."
He opened the door just enough for them to squeeze through without letting in too much light. Inside he took their glasses and she heard him place them somewhere in the darkness. She strained her ears to see if there were other noises in the room and felt herself begin to shake slightly from the first strange experience of going of her own free will into a room with a strange man for the purpose of making love to him. She listened harder. There was no sound.
"I don't hear them," she whispered to Thurman as she felt him return to her side and touch her arm.
"It's a suite of rooms," he whispered back, "The bedroom is off to the right."
She expected him to take her hand and lead her there but instead his arms pulled her to him and his lips came moistly down on hers, his tongue probing wetly into her mouth. She sucked on it gently letting her body melt into his in the darkness. She could feel herself begin to tremble from the excitement of another man's kiss and her nervousness slowly faded. He held the kiss long and hard and she could suddenly feel a slight jerk where his loins pressed into the softness of her stomach. He was getting hard and she sensed a sudden tensing in her own breasts as the tips were smashed hard against his chest.
"My God, I want to fuck you," he breathed into her ear.
The word strangely excited her as it had when Harry Burns had first used it last week but this time it wasn't a fearful excitement, it was one she welcomed. She reached down between their bodies and boldly stroked his penis feeling more wicked than she ever had before. The tingling in her breasts dropped to her thighs and danced there magically for a moment as he sucked in his breath from her touch.
"Take your dress off," he whispered hoarsely, unable to wait any longer. He guided her to a chair that she could just barely make out in the dimness of the light coming through the windows. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness now and she could distinguish the darkened forms of the furniture.
Carol's hands trembled as she reached behind her and slid the zipper silently down from her neck to her buttocks. She lifted the dress over her head and dropped it softly back across the couch. She reached behind her again and unsnapped the brassiere, gasping suddenly, as the cool rush of air touched the tips of her breasts causing the tiny rounded nipples to jump into erection. She dropped it to the seat of the couch. Her near nakedness sent wicked chills through her flesh, exciting her as she had never been excited before. The thought that she would soon be writhing in passion under this man she hardly knew in a bed next to her husband added to the forbidden thrill. She could hear Thurman next to her struggling rapidly from his clothing and she smiled at his obvious impatience to get at her. Yes, she was going to enjoy tonight more than she ever had anything in the world.
He reached for her in the darkness, his hands coming into contact with the nakedness of her shoulder first, the coolness of his hands causing her to jump.
"No, not yet," she whispered. "I still have my panties and stockings on."
"Leave your stockings and high heels on, we'll turn the light on later and I want to see you like that."
She stripped her panties down over the fullness of her hips and thighs and stepped from them, dropping them with her other clothes on the couch.
Thurman's hands reached out again in the darkness and began running over her naked flesh. She stood still, her arms at her sides, trembling from the wicked sensations running through her. He dropped his head to her breast, cupping it in his hand, and sucked the tiny throbbing nipple deep into his wet mouth. Carol groaned and swayed in the darkness, almost falling.
"Don't, don't do it here." She pushed his head away reluctantly. "I want you to do it where my husband can hear us."
Without speaking, he took her hand quickly and led her through a door at the side of the room. It was darker here as the blinds were closed and no light at all came through the windows. He stopped for a moment to get his bearings and Carol held her breath.
She could hear them!
They were small sounds, scarcely audible even in the almost total silence of the big room, but… they were unmistakable sounds. Slight wet sucking noises that she had heard for the first time in her life last week. Thurman's wife was doing the same thing to Bob that Harry Burns' wife had been doing last week.
Oh God, would Thurman expect the same thing from her. She felt herself wishing she had drunk more of the Pernod to make things easier. She couldn't refuse him anything he asked now and a small ball of fear began growing in her stomach that she might not be able to bring herself to do it. He had said he was going to be hard to please and she wondered apprehensively what demands he would place on her.
They reached the empty bed and he guided her down gently onto the silken coverlet spread over it. She had never felt anything like the sensation the first touch of it across her back gave her. It was almost like felt and was warm from the first contact when she had expected it to be cold. She wriggled her back against it cat-like as she felt the bed sag from his weight as he lay down next to her. He made no attempt to keep his movements quiet and she was certain Bob and Susan could hear them but it only added to the excitement that she was going to get herself screwed silly while he lay listening to all the sounds she made. She waited quietly for a moment as Thurman pressed his nakedness next to hers for some sound that would indicate they had disturbed them but there was none. The soft wet sucking noises continued unabated as though they were unaware of anyone else's presence.
"Ooooooh, God," she suddenly groaned forgetting her husband on the next bed.
Thurman's wet moist lips had begun a gentle nibbling along her shoulder sending goose-bumps racing over her flesh. She quivered uncontrollably from the sudden unexpected sensation and dropped her hand between them grasping his hard erected cock in her hands. She heard him groan in return as she pushed against it with her fingers sliding the foreskin back over the round rubbery head.
"I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk tonight," he hissed between clenched teeth. "God, you've got a body."
Carol smiled to herself through the sensations of desire building deep in her belly. Her husband must have heard that and now she would make certain he knew it was her.
"Oh God, Randy, I want you to fuck me. Fuck me good, please. I need it bad."
She moaned with a false passion, hearing with quiet satisfaction, the sudden stillness on the other bed. And then… a feminine voice pleading:
"Oh keep sucking Bob, lick it, lick it. Don't stop, darling!" It whispered through the room in desperation and then she heard the sounds of movement as though someone were struggling to pull someone back to them… and then… the wet sucking sounds again but quieter this time.
Carol's breath stopped. Bob was sucking her! It was not the other way around!
It was the last controlled thought she had. Thurman's hot moist mouth fastened tightly to an erected nipple and began a gentle sucking pressure against it. His hands coursed lightly at the same time over the soft firmness of her belly and thighs. His mouth played for a long delicious moment around the throbbing tits, moving from one to the other, his tongue trailing wetly down through the narrow fleshy valley between them as he alternated his attention to each.
And then, his mouth slid down over her now quivering belly, his penis sliding from her hand as his body moved away. He ground his tongue for a moment into her navel, bringing small mewls and gasps of pleasure from her open mouth. He moved lower, maddening patterns of indecent sensation trailing after his gently nipping teeth. She felt her thighs being pressed gently open and she made no resistance as he haunched down between them. She sucked in her breath with a gasp as she felt his fingers spreading the soft hair covered lips of her vagina and the coolness of the air touched against her there. His tongue flicked forward, the tip teasing moistly against the tiny bud of her clitoris causing it to throb into hardness. He lowered his fingers and spread the opening of her cunt wide apart and then suddenly dropping his tongue from her clitoris, thrust it deep into the pink, moist flesh of her pussy.
Carol jerked from the sudden wet contact and reaching down tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his face hard into her loins. His tongue circled around maddeningly inside her, the tip flicking against the wet sensitive walls of her pussy like the tongue of a cobra prepared to strike.
"Ooooooooh," a long low groan escaped from deep in her throat, "It's good darling, it's good, do it more, do it more!"
She chanted the words out without thought, her breasts heaving against her chest. Her legs splayed out wide and she jack-knifed her knees up hard against her swaying breasts to open her cunt as wide as she could to him. He pulled the upturned crevice of her crotch wide apart with his hands, stretching it cruelly as he heard her begging for more, and dropping his tongue to the small tight puckered anus, thrust the tip hard against it until he felt it give slightly and the tip enter just a hair. She fairly shrieked her joy now as he teased against the tightness of her rectum.
"Randyeee! Randyeeeeee! Oh God, Oh God!"
He moistened the top of his finger in her cunt and pressed it against the tight little hole, his mouth returning to her clitoris, and as he nibbled against it he thrust forward with his finger sinking it to the first knuckle in her anus.
"Uuuugh!" she grunted.
He thrust it to the second knuckle.
"Uuuuuuugh! Darling it hurts! It hurts!"
He held it still and thrust his tongue deep up her vagina again until she became accustomed to the strange presence in her asshole.
She lay still, holding her breath with her mouth wide open, her lips drawn back tight over her teeth. Then after an eternity, she began to breathe again. He began to lick and suck in earnest now, twisting his finger around and around in her rectum, stretching it wider with each brutal circle until the pain in her rear passage merged with the powerful pleasures coursing through her pussy and she began thrusting her white rounded buttocks back up on his finger, skewering it into herself in rhythm with the lashing of his tongue. He slid his free hand up under her upraised buttocks and pressed them tight against his face, locking her to him in a wet moist connection of tongue and vagina. The soft curly pubic hair grazed tantalizingly against his cheeks.
A strange masochistic wildness had taken hold of her body as she lay impaled between his tongue and finger and she ground her ass in wild abandoned ecstasy hard up against the maddening probing of her hot steaming loins. Nothing mattered now but the agony of the lovely swirling sensations rippling over every inch of her naked flesh. There was nothing else in the world and she writhed and twisted beneath his impalement gasping and screaming all the lewd words that came into her tortured and anguished mind.
"Oh God, Randy! Suck me! Lick me! Ram your finger in my ass! Harder! Harder darling! Oooooh! Eeeeeegh! Aaaaahg!"
Thurman worked demon-like below hearing her cries approaching a quick climax. By God, Burns was right, she was a hot little bitch, he thought through the blind passion of bringing a tender young beauty like this to orgasm. He had waited his chance and it was worth it all. He flicked his tongue faster and ground his finger with greater severity into the ever-expanding hole of her anus.
Her body worked beneath his, her thighs spasmodically opening and closing on the sides of his head. He could feel their warm soft resilience press tightly against his ears as she would jerk involuntarily from an extra deep flick of his tongue in her cunt.
He felt her belly begin to rise and fall more quickly, her head flailing out of control from side to side on the mattress, her long blonde hair lashing about the bed like a whip.
He thrust his tongue deeper.
Her thighs pressed tighter into the sides of his head, tighten and softening in rhythm to the thrusting of his punishing tongue. He knew she was on the brink of orgasm… not quite there… but hanging on the verge. Her breasts heaved and danced on her chest wildly, her fingers twisted crazily in his hair. Her head stopped its flailing and tensed as she arched her back, the cords in her neck standing out like steel-tendons. Her face contorted and a low guttural scream rumbled deep in her throat, choked off at the last moment by a long soulful gasp that reminded one of a dying animal.
"Aaaah," and then again,"Aaaaah!"
Carol felt as though she were losing her insides as the fluid of her orgasm started deep in her belly and gushed out with a roar around his still thrashing tongue and out into his face. She could feel it running wetly down the crevice of her buttocks, around the finger sunk in her anus, and down to the covers below.
She gave one last great gasp and collapsed down into the mattress, dropping her legs like heavy weights of lead to each side of his body. She could not move. The world had ended and she had been consumed in the last great cataclysmic fire that was the destruction of everything living. She lay absolutely immobile, her arms and legs splayed out uselessly like a rag-doll in either side of her body. Thurman lay still also with his head pillowed in the softness of her wet, blonde pubic hair between her legs. They panted out their exhaustion together for a long moment and then Thurman crawled up over her and pressed his open mouth tightly against hers. She could feel the wetness and intensity of her orgasm on his cheeks and thrust her tongue deep in his mouth in a wordless gesture of thanks for the indescribable journey he had just taken her on.
"Rest for a moment, darling," he whispered into her mouth, "and then I want you to do me."
She nodded her head gently in agreement his mouth still locked tightly to hers. She knew this was the moment she should have dreaded, but now it seemed such a small thing to do for this man who had brought such wild, delicious response from her. She had done it with him just for revenge against Bob, but instead, he had shown her what one person could really give to another. She wanted to do it for him, she wanted with all her heart to repay him for this ultimate kindness he had bestowed on her.
Through the darkness, she could hear the soft mewling pleadings of Thurman's wife. She laughed softly to herself. Bob had a long way to go and a lot to learn if he were going to compete with the likes of the other two men she had had in the short space of this last week. Even Harry Burns had his good points as a lover, in a brutal kind of way, but he had made her come in spite of her resistance to him. There was a lot to say for that.
Thurman lay with his leg thrown over her, his chin nestled against her shoulder as their breathing subsided. The wet sucking noises of Bob's lovemaking to Thurman's wife filtered through the room in a low continuous rhythm. They were punctuated by the low moaning noises of her passion. Periodically, as he thrust his tongue forward extra vigorously, a slight whimper of surprised delight would erupt from her lips. The symphony of sounds excited Thurman more. Carol could feel his already hardened prick lying across her thigh throb almost in unison to the sound of his wife's groans.
"Are you ready, darling?" she whispered in his ear, the sounds exciting her as she knew they were him.
"Yes," he whispered back eagerly, "Are you rested enough?"
"Yes, darling, but I want you to promise me one thing before I begin." She cupped his ear in her hands so that not a sound could be heard on the next bed. "I-I want you to turn on the light just before you cum. Is there a switch by the bed?"
"Yes, there is a wire with a switch on it right here. I can hold it in my hand. But why not now if you want it on? Susan wouldn't mind."
"Never mind," she whispered low, "You've promised. Now, turn over on your back."
Carol was surprised at her own boldness as she told him what to do but she could think of no greater punishment for Bob than to suddenly find he was watching another man shoot his sperm deep in his wife's mouth while he stood helplessly by unable to do a thing. The thought of doing that to a man no longer repelled her as her own loins were still moist and warm from the pleasures he had just conferred upon her and anything that made a person feel that good could not be as degrading an act as it seemed.
She began slowly as he had, first running her tongue down the hollows of his neck and to his chest. She found the small male nipples and nipped gently at them not sure they would respond. To her pleasant surprise, they did and she could feel him twist slightly from the strange sensation. She did not know much about the male body and worked slowly to learn. With one hand she reached down and grasped his hardened penis between her fingers as she worked lower and lower with her tongue licking wetly at his flesh. She remembered the wild sensations that had run through her own body when he had licked at her navel and conferred the same on him, running her tongue hotly around inside it until she felt his stomach begin to heave beneath her. He was hairy and she could feel the soft wiriness of it against her lips and face as she moved. She dropped one hand down lower and grasped his hardened penis tightly between her fingers, drawing back the foreskin in a teasing motion that brought other louder moans from his lips.
The position was growing more uncomfortable as she worked lower so she crawled over him, pushed his legs apart and kneeled on all fours between his thighs. her feet hung over the end of the bed.
Her face was over his loins now and she continued the gentle skinning back and forth of his ever hardening cock. Her lips were a bare inch away from the tip and she opened her mouth and breathed softly against it, allowing her hot breath to flow over the cool tip with a maddening slowness.
"Oooooh God, suck it now, baby," she heard him groan above her. His words excited her as she knew her husband next to them would hear and she found herself sadistically wishing she could see his face as he realized she was doing this lewd obscene thing, willingly, to another man.
She wanted to punish Bob as he had never been punished before.
Her tongue flicked out, the tip coming into warm wet contact with the head of his cock. She circled it about the smooth, rubbery flesh as he groaned and twisted above from the cruel teasing she was subjecting him to. The tip of her slowly searching tongue found the tiny opening of the gland at the end and darted wetly into it. It was already moist from the tiny droplets of seminal fluid seeping through from his rising excitement. The sharp pungent taste and odor caused her mouth to salivate and her nostrils to flare slightly. Her hands dropped to the base of the huge erected prick and she cupped his soft, smooth testicles gently with one of them, grazing her nails tantalizingly over the hairy flaccid flesh. The other hand she placed at the thick base of his cock where it soared from the curly black pubic hair covering his lower stomach. She pinched it between her thumb and forefinger and pulled down hard, skinning back the foreskin until the large red throbbing head stood alone and naked against the softness of her lips. She began planting moist warm kisses around it, beginning at the tip and tracing a path down the full length of it to the base and then wetly back up to the tip again. She played longer than she knew she should, not being able just yet, to bring herself to take it in her mouth.
But Thurman could stand it no more. With a gurgle deep in his throat he reached down with his hands, tangled them in her hair, and thrust his loins up with the strength of a bull. Carol resisted for a moment, doubts running wildly through her mind, but it was too late. The thick spongy head rammed inside, crushing through her soft moist lips, between the whiteness of her teeth and into the moist saliva of her mouth. She could feel the spongy stiff substance rub the full length of her tongue almost imbedding itself deep in her throat.
She closed her eyes to keep from choking. Saliva seemed to fill her mouth, all of it, except that filled by Thurman's great fleshy rod, now protruding banana-like from her ovaled shaped lips.
"Oooooh, god honey, your mouth is like butter," she heard him murmur as he began a slow rhythmic undulation of his hips up into her face.
"Tighten your lips and suck harder," he hissed from above, his voice coarse and thick from passion.
Carol did his bidding, feeling at the same time the excitement growing again in her own body from the mean, debasing thought of her mouth being used this way by Thurman as Harry Burns had used her cunt before. She sucked demon-like, swishing her tongue with vengeance around and around the throbbing head sliding in and out of her ovaled lips… She sucked to end it, her head bobbing like a cork in the stormy seas over his pumping loins. The masochistic joy of being used, used like a dirty whore, permeated her body in tingling submissive mewling sounds that came from her lips locked tightly around his thrusting cock. He was going to pump his lewd white sperm into it until it ran from the edges of her lips in sticky white trails of blissful sensation that could be matched by nothing else in the world.
And… when that moment came… when it came
Bob, damn him, would see it all… her cunt throbbed momentarily at the thought as her mouth clung wetly to Thurman's cock screwing mercilessly into her face…