At the breakfast table after Dan had left for school, Art suggested Helen see a psychiatrist. He approached the subject carefully and had her agreement before she was fully aware of what he'd implied. Even then, she followed through by making an appointment; a "shrink" ought to understand what she was putting up with. He would most likely insist Art come in for treatment.
But Dr. Davis did not. Helen left his office with her ego bruised and her self-confidence shaken. She went to Vanessa Rush. She's the closest friend I've got, she reasoned. Even if she does act a little wild. She shook her head and pursed her lips. Come, now, Helen. More than a little. And the way she talks! But she's always been good to me, and she's never got a mean thought.
Vanessa listened closely to Helen's description of the fight and the subsequent visit to Dr. Davis. Helen wished it were easier to read her friend's expression – to know whether she was seeing sympathy or amusement or something else – but she was grateful for the fact Vanessa didn't interrupt.
"Oh!" Helen exclaimed as she concluded her account of Dr. Davis' reaction. "Can you imagine! Telling a married woman she doesn't know anything about sex! Vanessa, he was terrible! He said things I'd never let Art say! Ugh!"
"Like what?" Vanessa appeared interested.
"I wouldn't repeat them! Perverted sex things he said I ought to have Art do! He… he… Vanessa, he even said I ought to… to have intercourse with other men! He was awful. I'm never going back to him!"
"Honey, I think you need a drink." Vanessa mixed a double-strength screwdriver for Helen. "You sound tight as a drum."
Helen shuddered. The sympathy in Vanessa's voice was almost disastrous in its effect on Helen's self-control. She choked back a sob and gulped the orange juice and vodka. "How could such a dirty-minded man get to be a doctor? Honestly, Van!"
"Did he think your marriage might be in any danger, hon?"
Helen nodded and drained her glass. "The only thing he said that was right. He agreed there was a real danger."
"You don't want to lose Art, do you?"
"Omigod, no! That would kill me, Van!"
"Even if you knew you weren't going to be able to change him?"
Helen hesitated. "You mean, if he never did get over being… well, being a sex fiend?"
"Yes."
"I don't want to lose him," Helen whispered. She held out her empty glass to Vanessa for a refill. "I love him, Van. No matter what, I love him! I won't let him go!"
Vanessa mixed another double. She spoke without looking at Helen. "What if keeping him meant you had to be something you're not?"
"Change myself?" A sense of relaxed warmth was seeping through Helen. "Pretend I don't mind him looking at me naked? Let him do all those things he…?"
Vanessa nodded. "That's one way."
The image of her grandmother rose in Helen's mind, and horror filled her at the thoughts she'd been toying with. "No! I won't!" But I do love him! I can't lose him! "Isn't there any other way?"
"Well…" Vanessa hesitated. "You might try shocking him. Maybe you could bring him to his senses that way."
"How?"
"Shock hell out of him! He wants you naked, let him see you naked! In front of Barry and me!"
"VAN! For God's sake! I'm not that drunk!"
"I'm serious! Start like it's a game – or like we're practicing a skit for Wednesday Club."
"I'd die! I couldn't take my clothes off!"
"Make it a skit. You a new slave being auctioned off. Costumes. Think he'd let it go all the way?"
Helen hiccuped. "In front of Barry? No!" She was suddenly excited. "You're right! It'll work!"
"Tonight then. Call Danny and have him go to the Averys'. Call Art's office and leave a message. They'll get to him by radio."
"No use. I still couldn't take off the costume."
"You'd be a slave. Chained." Vanessa laughed. "We'd have to use clothesline instead of chain, but we could spread-eagle you against the grate there. How far do you think Art would let me get?"
"All right. That way." Helen pressed her hand to her forehead, conscious of her giddiness. She knew Art would be indignant – that he'd stop them almost before they got started. She wasn't sure how the shock would make the desired change in Art, but she probably would if she weren't so drunk; Vanessa obviously did.
Vanessa kept Helen pleasantly inebriated the rest of the afternoon. It was a time of confused activity, making costumes out of sheets, locating rope, and making the necessary telephone calls. And Helen was still drunk when Art arrived. Conversation at the dinner table swirled around her, confused and trivial, and she continually found herself trying to unravel one topic only to discover the others had slipped into another. She ate little, the food appealing less to her than her drink, and she giggled at those times when Art acted as if he ought to be enlightened.
Afterward, when they had settled in the living room with liqueurs, she nodded owlishly while Vanessa introduced the fiction about their skit for Wednesday Club. And without quite realizing the time had come, she and Vanessa were on their way to the bedroom.
Helen undressed quickly, glancing at herself in the door-mounted mirror with satisfaction, and put on the skimpy, wrap-around affair Vanessa had suggested as a final teaser. Like a miniskirt that shrunk, Helen told herself. But it does cover the hair… not that they'll ever see it. Art won 't let us go that far.
"Know what?" she said to Vanessa when she had her sheet-gown fastened at the shoulders and pinned down the side. "Know what, Van? I'm still drunk." She giggled.
"And pretty relaxed," Vanessa observed. "I thought you'd be all up-tight by now!"
Helen watched with a sense of detachment while Vanessa tied chunks of rope to each of her wrists and ankles. She held her hands behind her, resting against her ass, when Vanessa gathered the free rope ends in her hand.
"Let's go, slave-girl," remarked Vanessa with a hint of excitement in her voice.
Helen was startled at the sudden gleam in Art's eyes when he saw her costume. Glancing at herself in the brighter light of the living room, she realized the sheet was anything but shadow-proof; the relative darkness of her nipples showed clearly, and even with the brief "teaser skirt", there was a faint shadow at her crotch. She shivered and let Vanessa guide her to the grating.
"This one's rebellious," commented Vanessa, going into the act. She made Helen turn with her back to the bars. "Okay, honey," she whispered. "Do your stuff. Arms first, I guess."
Helen extended her arms over her head and held them patiently while Vanessa secured her wrists to one of the cross-bars. And at a prod of Vanessa's finger and a curt order, she spread her feet. Vanessa tied the ankle ropes, tugging at them to pull Helen's legs still farther apart.
Helen gasped. "Oooh! That stretches me!" She squirmed helplessly.
Vanessa straightened. "You look great, honey!" she said in a low tone. "It's going to work!"
Helen glanced at her husband's face. His eyes were wide, and he stared at her without blinking. So far, she thought, he's himself. Nothing on his mind but how sexy it looks.
"Observe, gentlemen," Vanessa was saying. "One of the loveliest of our captive princesses! No submissive peasant, this one." She paused and gazed at Helen. "But she'll bring hours of pleasure to the lucky one who buys her. Do I hear an offer? What, no bid?"
Helen saw Barry start to speak and caught the quick shake of Vanessa's head. That's right, she thought. Don't let them forget we're practicing a skit.
Vanessa smiled. "Of course! A discerning group like you would hesitate. 'What about damage?' you ask yourselves. 'A beautiful face,' you say, 'but what about the body?' I assure you, the flesh is flawless." She paused. "What? You doubt? The exaggeration of the marketplace you say? I'm wounded. Wait! See for yourselves!"
Helen tensed at the avid interest she saw in both men's faces. And she quivered while Vanessa unfastened the safety pin that held the costume together at her left shoulder. The material fell free, slipping away from her shoulder and dropping against her body. She looked down in sudden panic to see how much of her had been exposed. Good God! she thought. Another half-inch and they could have seen my nipples! The creamy flesh of her boobs swelled boldly in clear view, the fold of the sheet lying across the upper edge of the pink areolas. A wave of giddiness swept over her. Oooh! How wicked! she thought.
"Absolutely without a flaw!" repeated Vanessa. And then, "You still wonder? What skeptics! Come, now!" She shrugged and turned with an air of resignation to fumble with the pin at Helen's other shoulder.
"No!" whispered Helen. "He'll stop us now!" But she saw no startled objection in Art's expression. His lips were parted, and he appeared to be breathing hard, but he made no move to stop Vanessa.
Vanessa pulled the pin free and stepped back. The top of the costume folded slowly downward, clinging momentarily to Helen's globes and then sliding free and tumbling about her waist, where it hung from the belt cord.
"Oh!" Helen gasped with horror as she gazed at her nakedness. Her tits strained, drawn taut by the tension in her arms. The nipples stood out, quivering and beginning to pucker with her sudden fright. Why doesn't he stop us! she asked herself.
Vanessa faced the men confidently. "You see? You see, gentlemen? Perfection from conquered Minoa! Perfection! Note the ripe fullness… the luscious texture… the proud erectness! Where have you ever seen such succulent-looking raisins as these?"
To Helen's horrified amazement, Vanessa brushed each of the darkening nipples with her fingertips.
"Oh!" she cried impulsively. "Ooh! No!" She squirmed, her shoulders pressed against the bars. "Don't!" She winced at the jolt of pleasure the touch sent through her.
Vanessa winked at her and turned back to the men. "I don't know," she said, pretending distress. "I don't know what the market's coming to these days. An honest owner shouldn't have to put up with this kind of skepticism. Goodness! Can't you see what an opportunity you have?" She sighed. "Ah, well. All in a day's work." She unfastened the three pins holding the costume together at the side and let the sheet dope from the cord.
Helen shuddered at the taut boldness of her exposed left thigh. The tiny miniskirt Vanessa had designed was shockingly overtaxed by the wide angle of Helen's legs, and a sick tremor seized her stomach at the thought some of her pussy hairs might be visible beneath its ragged edge. Only the fact that the sheet covered most of it served as consolation. He'll stop us now, she assured herself. He won't let us go any further; he surely sees what we're ready to do! She studied Art's expression and felt a burst of terror at the fascination that appeared to grip him. His gaze met hers and he smiled as if awed.
Vanessa bent and ran her fingers down Helen's bare thigh. Helen felt goose flesh pop out and saw the flesh twitch. She had a moment of fright at the abrupt convulsion in her pussy. No! she thought. I'm not like that, still! Oh, no!
"See the seductive taper," said Vanessa huskily. "Observe how smooth the line is from that dainty knee to this girl's playground! Gentlemen! Have you no imagination? Gods above!"
Helen had avoided looking at Barry. Now, she glanced without thinking. He sprawled in his easy-chair, legs extended and chin on chest, a great bulge showing in the front of his trousers. She looked quickly at her husband and discovered his fly was tented. The fact sent a surge of excitement through her, and she writhed with guilty awareness of the pleasure she felt in their attention. I'm terrible! Oh, dear! I like having them excited!
She realized belatedly that Vanessa was untying the waist cord. The sheet collapsed to the floor, leaving only the skimpy, improvised miniskirt to hide Helen's nakedness. She stared at herself, hypnotized by the sight of her elongated navel. I didn't know my navel would show! It didn't in the bedroom! And this thing's so terribly short! I know they can see hair! Art! Art, what are you waiting for!
Helen tugged at the ankle ropes, suddenly remembering she'd forgotten to remove her high-heeled sandals. But there was no slack in the loop and no way to relieve the pressure that held the bottom of the skirt so high. "Vanessa!" Helen whispered. "Van, we can't go any further!"
Vanessa leaned close. "Honey! We can't stop now! Look how shocked Art is already. Only he still doesn't believe we'll go all the way. That's what'll clinch it!"
"No! No, Van! I just can't!"
"Sure you can, hon. You're splendid! Anyhow, I won't let you go it by yourself. I'll take mine off, too. Think how that'll hit them!" Vanessa stepped towards the men. "Come now, good sirs! How stubborn are you going to be? Have you ever gazed at greater beauty? Look again at these marvelous globes! Imagine one of these saucy nipples tickling the arch of your throat!" She cupped her palm under one of Helen's boobs, then tenderly rolled the nipple between her fingertips.
A stab of delight shook Helen and she drew a deep, audible breath.
"Just meditate on the daintiness of this dear waist!" Vanessa continued. "Think of it! You could easily encircle it with your two hands! And feast your souls on this delicate navel. How could it be more inviting to a gentleman's tongue? The thighs – the hips – please, gentlemen!" She paused, panting. "What! Still skeptical? Oh, God! What cynics! You demand the last bit, don't you!"
"No no no…" Helen moaned softly when Vanessa reached for the pin in the waistband of the tiny skirt. "Nooo… Oh, Van!" The flesh at her waist writhed at the pressure of Vanessa's fingers, and abruptly the skirt loosened. "NO!" Helen cried out sharply. She felt the soft cloth being dragged across her belly and looked down with a sense of disbelief.
Van held the material as if it were a matador's cape, twitching it away from Helen's body but using it to screen her pussy from view. While Helen watched, the quick hands swished the skirt aside and then back in place, offering the men a tantalizing glimpse of the red-haired snatch. Helen pressed her ass against the bars and whimpered. She saw her husband start from his chair.
Now! she thought with a surge of relief. Now he's sure! He'll make us stop!
But Art merely came closer, and Barry joined him. Both of them licked their lips.
Vanessa sighed and shook her head. "You win," she said. She whipped the skirt away and dropped it to the floor.
Helen sagged in her bonds, her flesh crawling and heat welling in her cunt. Art and Barry devoured her with their stares, and she imagined she could feel a physical impact wherever their glances fell. Like when Tony looked at me this way! she thought wildly, reminding herself this was the first time any man but an obstetrician had looked at her naked pussy since that day. It can't be! I'm not really here! Not naked and spread-eagled with men gawking at me! Oh, Mother in Heaven, they're raping me with their eyes! And, Helen! You bitch! You're an excited! Her cunt throbbed and she tingled. "Van! Oh, please, Van!" She felt hysteria edging into her.
Vanessa whispered, "It's working, hon! It's sinking in! Art's beginning to realize what we've done!"
Helen shook her head, rolling it against one of the bars. "I can't stand it any longer! Oh, Van, I can't!"
"Just a little more, honey! Let me get you another drink real quick."
"I'm already dizzy! If I drink another one, I won't know what I'm doing!"
But Vanessa ran to the bar and poured vodka into a glass, bringing it to Helen without pausing to cut it with orange juice. Helen gauged the tumblerful of clear liquid with her eye and a reckless impulse jarred her.
"Quick!" she panted. "Quick! I need it!"
Vanessa tilted the glass at Helen's lips, and Helen gulped. She gasped and coughed, then captured the rim with her lips and drank again. "I'll be drunk now!" she exclaimed. "Oh, God, how drunk I'll be!"
She noticed that Barry and her husband were drawing nearer. The vodka burned in her stomach, and she imagined it was already killing her inhibitions. "Come on," she muttered thickly. "Come on, you lecherous bastards. Get a good look."
Art stared into her eyes. He grinned uncertainly and touched her waist. She flinched. Needles of excitement pricked her. She pouted with a longing like the one she'd felt that day years before. I'm wet! she thought. My pussy's all wet! Christ, it's hot in here!
Art stooped and kissed the bulge of her tit. She twisted her shoulders against the bars and watched her boobs swing. Art's lips parted and closed on her nipple.
I can't stop him! she told herself wildly. Omigod! Omigod! I never felt anything like that! She cried out, aloud. "Art! Oh, honey! Oooh!"
He sucked tenderly. Currents of pleasure radiated from the captured tit, spreading through the tissues beneath it and into her other boob. She felt her hips writhe. In spite of the deep sense of shame that hovered in the background, she stared at Art's face. His expression made her catch her breath; he looked ecstatically contented, his weathered cheek caving in rhythmically with his sucking and his jaw moving gently as he chewed the flesh of her tit. With obvious effort, he drew back and glanced at Barry.
"Man, this has got to be tasted to be believed! You've got to try a mouthful!"
"No! NO!" Helen exclaimed in a terrified whisper. The very thought of Barry touching her aroused a raging fire of excitement in her belly. "Oh, no!"
Without waiting, Art sucked her tit into his mouth again and laid his hand on her belly. Barry edged closer and caught her other tit in his mouth.
"Mmm!" exclaimed Vanessa's husband. His crooked nose wrinkled and she felt his hand on the inner fullness of her thigh.
"Ohhh! Mmmm…" she moaned, feeling the last of her self-control evaporating. It was too late to resist the powerful stirrings in her belly, she knew. She had no way to slow her rising lust or still her body's squirmings. She jerked the loops on her wrists, using the harsh bite to heighten her awareness of her position. Art stroked her belly with circular movements of his hand and Barry caressed her inner thigh. She ground her ass on the bars.
"Ahahah! Dear God, forgive me!" she whispered in an agony of desire.
She saw Vanessa remove her costume and pull the hairpins out of her piled coiffure. Vanessa shook her head, loosening her platinum-blonde hair and spreading it over her shoulders. Her knockers jiggled with the motion and her hips twisted. She caressed her own boobs, grinning at Helen and running her hands slowly over her torso to bury her fingers in the thick, mouse-brown thatch of her cunt hair.
She's the sexy one! Helen admitted to herself. Her boobies are twice the size of mine! And she's got hips for riding a man! For Heaven's sake, Helen! Get hold of yourself, you crude slut! But she knew the vodka had combined with her helpless nakedness to rob her of the will to object to her own reactions. Her ass was bumping the grating with a rhythmic monotony and her belly was jerking. Too many! she thought. Two's too many! Her boobs throbbed and she gave up trying to cope with the varied sensations that assailed her. If they'd only do the same thing at the same time! She was squirming under the thrill of Art's tongue as it caressed the tip of one nipple and twitching to the electric needles of pleasure Barry's teeth created as he scraped them over the slopes of the other.
Barry, she thought. Barry… BARRY! What's he doing with his hand? It's not moving any more! His hand rested at the top of her thigh, nestled against the lips of her pussy, its heat compounding her own. Her hips surged and she pressed her pussy onto the hard edge of his knuckle before she knew what she was doing. His thumb stirred and slipped into her slit, gliding frictionlessly on her wetness.
"Unh! Unhhh!" she exclaimed, rising to the balls of her feet. "No… NO! Ahhhh, yesss!" She thrust her belly forward as he wedged his thumb upward into the mouth of her cunt. "Ahhh! AHHH!"
Barry released his hold on her tit and sank to his knees. He kissed her belly, pushing Art's hand aside, then thrust the tip of his tongue into her navel and twirled it around the edges.
"Umph!… Mmmmp!" she grunted and lashed her ass backward. New fingers of delight shot inward from his touch and she arched her back, jamming her protruding belly into Barry's face. She felt his thumb drive deeper in her twat, bending to jab at the walls of her juicy cunt. "Ah! Oooh! Ahhh!" she panted.
Vanessa had come forward, she saw dimly, and was rubbing her tits against Art's shoulder while she fumbled at his fly with her hands. Helen strained to see around her husband's head and past Barry to watch her friend's fingers. They vanished into Art's trousers and emerged clutching his cock. Vanessa fondled the turgid prick eagerly, squeezing the shaft with one hand and caressing the livid head with the other. Art pulled his mouth from his wife's boob and faced Vanessa.
"Holy Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You, too?"
"Me too, what?" asked the blonde.
"Naked! Oh, shit, baby! Does that mean the green light's on?"
"Try me and see," she murmured.
Helen writhed. He's not shocked! she realized with despair. He likes what's happening! And she groaned inwardly. So do I, she admitted. Oh God, so do I!
Art chose that moment to turn and gaze into her face. Their glances met and held and she thrilled to the savage joy she saw in his eyes.
He grinned happily at her and looked down at Barry. His excitement leaped visibly and he bent to peer at the other man's hand. "All the way, man! All the way!" he exclaimed.
Something snapped in Helen and a new flood of fierce joy twisted her belly. She flung herself out from the bars, hanging in her ropes, and ground her cunt on the embedded thumb.
Art grinned at her again and his lips formed the words, "Good girl!" He turned back to Vanessa. "Hey, woman! I got time to get out of these clothes?"
"Do it fast, then! My mouth's watering!" Vanessa clutched Art's cock in both hands and squeezed.
Art stared at the trembling blonde with round eyes and tore at his clothing. He threw it from him and let Vanessa push him into the nearest armchair. "Jesus, Van! What the hell!"
"Foreskin, baby!" she exclaimed. "It's been a long time without." She glanced towards Barry with an expression Helen took for guilt. "I like it without," she added quickly. "It's just that I haven't tasted one with for so long."
Barry's chuckle rumbled. "Don't apologize. Go ahead and get a mouthful!"
Vanessa nodded, her face red and contorted, and fell to her knees beside Art's legs. She rested her boobs on his thighs and put her lips to the tip of his cock. For a time, she sucked at the very tip, opening her mouth to place her lips around the bulb, then drawing them over it as if stripping the outer surface from an ice-cream cone. Her appearance of agitation disappeared. She closed her eyes and smiled around the bulk of Art's cockhead. Her color returned to its normal lustrous bronze tint.
"Mmmm!" she sighed. "All mine." She opened her mouth to its full extent and worked her lips slowly over the bulb and foreskin to the end of the shaft. Her eyelashes fluttered and she gazed up at Art.
He caressed her cheek with his fingertips, his face set in an expression of rapt concentration. Helen's initial sense of repugnance faded and an intense longing replaced it. Her mouth puckered at the notion of engulfing that cock. Oh, Helen! she scolded herself.
An incredible sensation of warmth and vibrancy exploded in her pussy. She cried out and twisted her hips, then thrust her crotch forward. Barry had seated himself, cross-legged, between her feet. His mouth held her clitoris and his eyes twinkled up at her.
"Barry!" she whispered. "Oh, Barry! Nnng!"
His hands cupped around her asscheeks, kneading them firmly. The pleasure at her cunt swelled and pulsed, and her hips drove forward and rotated her pussy up. She twisted her body in a paroxysm of delight, biting her lip and moaning. Through the fabric of her excitement she felt her asscheeks being parted and Barry's fingers driving deeply into her crack.
"No, Barry! Don't!" she hissed through her clenched teeth. "Ohhh! Oh, Barry! Goood!" She flung her ass hard against his probing fingers as they caressed her bung.
Movement caught her eye. She realized Vanessa had removed her mouth from Art's cock and was standing. Art had his hands at Vanessa's waist and she was climbing onto his shoulder as he sat on the chair. Helen stared, puzzled. The voluptuous blonde lay forward on Art's body, her legs astride his neck and her face over his cock once more. Art thrust his tongue into his hostess' twat and she gobbled at his cock, forcing the head into her mouth and sliding her lips up and down on the shaft.
Helen gazed at her husband, envious of the way Vanessa's boobs spread over her belly and the way the tanned body molded itself to his.
She was vaguely aware that Barry was dragging his fingers across the wet mouth of her pussy, caressing its rim and slipping in and out of it. She forgot the other couple and banged against the grating. "Mmmm! Mmm, Barry! Good!"
His fingers slid back into her ass crack and pressed at her shitter, arousing new tremors. There was a sudden increase in the pressure and a weird sensation of stretching.
"Ah! Agh! Ohhh, Barry!"
He sucked more vigorously on her clitoris and all her sensations blended into a single mountain of enjoyment.
Her vision cleared and she looked at Vanessa and Art again. Vanessa's back undulated up and down and her feet flailed the air. The shimmering blonde hair flew in a writhing mass around Vanessa's head and over Art's hips, and Art's hands clamped on Vanessa's bouncing ass, holding her pussy at his mouth.
Vanessa jerked her head up, clinging to Art's cock with both hands. "Art!" she cried. "Art! Omigod! You're going to make me come!" She lunged at his prick again, jamming her mouth over it and sucking violently.
Art's eyes grew round and his face worked. He drove his tongue into the gaping cunt and sucked the outer flesh into his mouth, chewing hard. Vanessa's head bobbed wildly as her mouth stroked the great shaft, and she slammed her ass down, crushing her twat against Art's face. Her body stiffened and broke into a great tremor, but she maintained the furious assault with her lips.
Art's knuckles whitened and his fingers dug into the full asscheeks. His body stiffened and his ass rose from the chair. Helen saw his cock pulse and realized intuitively he was coming. She watched Vanessa's face with breathless fascination. The straining blonde swallowed hard and continued to suck, her throat working continuously. Her smooth, plump legs straightened and the toes pointed at the far wall while Vanessa's ass quivered in the intensity of her orgasm.
Helen sagged when she saw the climaxing couple collapse. She realized with horror that she had risen dangerously near the kind of perverse ecstasy she hadn't experienced since her summer with Tony. Barry's mouth left her pussy and his finger withdrew from her ass.
Barry heaved himself to his feet and pressed his cock into the flesh of her belly. "Anyone ever tell you what a sexy goddamn broad you are, Helen?" he panted.
"Barry, please," she said in a low tone. "Please."
He rubbed his cock against her belly. "I'm so hot I'm about to bust a blood vessel!" he exclaimed. "Those other two make it yet?" He glanced over his shoulder and chuckled. "Looks like they did. Shit, they're one up on us. Come on, let's fuck."
"Barry! Oh, Barry, don't talk like that, please!"
"Okay. No talk. Let's just do it." He bent his knees, pressing them against the undersides of her thighs, and his cockhead slid down through her pussy hair and under her crotch. She felt its bulk nestle in her slit and gasped.
He's going to! He is! "Barry! Barry, they didn't do that! Barry!"
He surged upward and his cock slammed into her cunt, driving into her guts and filling her with a fiery sensation.
"Yaghh! Eeeaghhh!" Her hips flogged and her cunt pounded on the base of the buried cock. Barry grabbed her ass and jerked her away from the grate, straining up so her feet left the floor and pulled violently against her ankle bonds.
"Ah! Ah! AH!" she gasped at each of his thrusts. Her pleasure roared over her and she forgot everything but the gush of sensation. Her belly tensed and a hard knot formed around the deep-pressed cockhead. She mumbled in a monotone, "Fuck fuck fuck!"
Barry's cock stroked in her cunt. Her boobs jounced and her knees jerked. An ocean of passion rose over her and carried her beyond herself. She felt the knot in her belly jerk loose as a hard contraction snapped the mouth of her twat on Barry's prick. A hard trembling shook her and she turned rigid.
"MMMMM! AHHHH!" Her shrieks carried the edge of her lust. She wallowed in her climax, aware that Barry's pumping had yielded to a steady, frenzied force against her. A flood of liquid heat ballooned her gut and her orgasm redoubled its ferocity. She screamed with delight and scrubbed her pussy in the steel wool of his crotch hair. He thrust his face forward and grabbed her nipple in his mouth, biting on it while his jism continued to well into her spasming cunt. And his fingers kneaded her butt mercilessly.
At last, his inner storm appeared to subside; his hands relaxed and the awful upward force of his cock slackened. Helen's cunt spasms slowed and she let her head fall against one arm.
"Oh! Oh, Barry!"
"Hey, we made it together, baby!"
"Oh, my! Yes, we did!"
"Know something?" he asked in a low tone. "I've come up out of a sound sleep where I was dreaming I was fucking you, Helen. I've wanted to ever since the first time I saw you. Only I never dreamed about doing it this way! Jesus Christ, but you're a great fuck!"
"Oh, darling, don't spoil it by using the wrong words! Please!" She twisted, still impaled on his cock and still unable to reach the floor with her feet. "Barry… I'm hanging by my wrists. They're numb!"
He lowered her and reluctantly pulled out his prick. She fell against the bars, panting and weak, while his hands continued to rove over her body. To her horror, she discovered that her sensory system was still capable of stimulus. Excitement jabbed at her and her hips began to twist again. Barry massaged and stroked until she was pleading for his cock, and she was hardly conscious of the fact he was untying her. She collapsed in his arms and let him carry her to the couch, where he laid her on her side. She made no protest when he pushed the knee of her upper leg against her chest and straddled the other thigh, his cock once more stabbing at her hot cunt. She undulated her hips in time to his beat and happily rose again to an orgasm, fleetingly aware that Vanessa had her legs locked around Art's hips, lashing her body on his embedded prick.
When she collapsed for the second time, Barry bent over her, his softening cock still buried and his hand idly fondling her tit.
"You're good lying down, too, baby," he said. "What a lucky guy Art is!"
Helen shook her head. "You don't know," she said. "Maybe you're the lucky one."
"Oh, hell! I wasn't saying Van's not great. I didn't mean that!"
She bubbled with laughter at the panic in his face and a rush of tenderness and affection for him took her by surprise. "Mm, you're sweet, Barry." She snuggled against him.