Janet was preparing the salad when she heard Martin's car, with her husband and Martin inside, pull into the driveway. She put the bowl on the counter and walked toward the door to be ready to meet him when he entered; she hoped Martin wouldn't insist on coming in the house. She didn't want to see him. Though she knew she would have to face him on Friday, perhaps she would not have to go through looking at him just now after the humiliation he had subjected her to earlier in the afternoon.
Just as she came to the swinging door between the kitchen and living room, she saw a note scribbled on the blackboard she used as a reminder with her shopping; she didn't have to guess that the handwriting belonged to Martin. The note was short and not so sweet. There was a single sentence, instructing her to make sure Greg would accept the weekend invitation and she knew she had no choice. In a moment her husband would be in the house and she would have to conspire against him.
Janet quickly erased the board and decided to wait for him in the kitchen, pretending to be busy preparing beef stroganoff, though all she had left to finish was putting a fire under the meal. Unaware, she thought, I must be unaware that Martin has invited us to the beach. Martin would be surprised at Greg's acting if he realized that Greg knew about their affair the other night. It would make him angry and there was no telling what he might do.
She tried to turn her mind to more pleasant thoughts as her husband entered the kitchen alone; she found herself breathing a small sigh of relief.
"Martin's got something up his sleeve," he said, without even greeting her, and she could see that he was extremely angry. It must have been horrible for Greg, she thought, riding all the way home with Martin, knowing the man had totally debauched his wife. Greg was not a violent man, but a situation like that could have made most men commit murder.
"He's invited us to the beach for the weekend," he continued. She said nothing for a minute, waiting to hear his reaction. "What the hell does he think he's doing?" he almost yelled, slamming his fist on the counter. She watched him look around the kitchen uselessly looking for something else to hit to relieve the pressure building in his brain.
"I don't know, darling," she said, walking toward him. "Let's have a drink. It'll settle you down for a while and we can try to determine what he wants. Who knows, maybe he has even changed his mind and isn't going to do anything," she said, wondering how Greg would feel if he knew that Darleen was going to make a play for him.
She followed him into the living room and stood beside him as he fixed them a highball. He talked about his dislike for Martin and she listened dutifully, knowing that there was no way on earth for them to get out of what was going to follow in a day and a half. They had to go through with it and that was all there was to it.
Though Greg's job seemed no longer important to him, Janet didn't want to wait for a man who might spend ten years in prison, therefore, she wanted to please Martin at all costs. But Greg's focus was upon their marriage and their lives together, lives that were in jeopardy. If Martin could keep them under his power they would be no longer free. If he had to live under the yoke of fear, allowing his wife to sleep with another man, then his life was not worth living. He had not considered that Darleen was also a conspirator in the plot.
"Perhaps we should go with them to find out what he wants," she suggested when she found Greg had not completely agreed to go. He had told Martin that he would see if Janet had made any other plans for the weekend, but Martin was not worried, not after his afternoon visit to her kitchen.
"There is nothing we can do without knowing what he really has planned," she said. "I don't think it can do any harm. At least, not if the two of us are there." She almost believed her own words as she spoke. Martin was obviously a professional at blackmailing women into his bed, and apparently, to Janet, so was Darleen. She was at his mercy and could not tell her husband that she too had joined the conspirators.
His high Midwestern morals had not kept him from stealing, but they had kept him from other women. Sex was sacred to Greg. Though they had been married for several years now, he failed to recognize that it was not just something they happened to share with each other. The idea had never occurred to him that other women could give him much more pleasure than his wife. Nor had it occurred to him that he could give her much more pleasure than he did. As far as he knew, there was only one way to do it properly, and that was the way he always did.
Janet, however, had discovered new innovations through Martin, making her more susceptible to the idea that they could go to the beach house. She did not believe that Greg would be seduced by Darleen. But the exhilarating thought of being made love to by Martin, even though she knew it was wrong, drew her to the subconscious conclusion that they must go. Consciously she could not accept what she had done. But subconsciously she needed to be used like Martin used her, demeaning her in her own eyes, using her as a means to an end, not as a feeling, sensitive human being.
"I don't know if it'll be safe for you, honey. I know they'll try something," Greg said hesitantly.
"We have to take the chance though, darling," she said. "If we don't do at least that much, he could decide that he should turn you in. No one would believe that he had done to me what he had, and after all, it isn't a crime. He didn't rape me. And even if I testified that he did, it wouldn't hold up in court. If he disclosed to the police and the company that you've been embezzling, no one would believe anything I said. So we just must go."
"You're right," he said, looking at the reddening eyes of his wife. He could not tell that she was acting, that her tears were not real. She often cried when a crisis came. There was no reason to think that she was faking. "I'll call Martin now," Greg finally said after pondering for a moment longer. "He said we would leave around noon on Friday, and I'm sure he'll be very happy to hear we're going."
Janet didn't want to talk as she reclined back in the back seat of the white convertible. It was twelve thirty on Friday afternoon and they had been driving for fifteen minutes. She leaned her head back and worriedly watched the speedometer creep past ninety as they headed south on the Santa Ana Freeway.
Greg and Martin chatted in the front seat, while Darleen sat on her left, telling her about the nightclub, Grant's Tomb. Janet barely heard her. The last time she had been in a nightclub she had ended the night in bed with another man. I could never talk to Darleen if I knew she had been to bed with my husband, she thought. How can she do it so casually, as though nothing had happened.
Janet was still seeing the flashing strobe lights that had beat on her brain a little over a week before and her thoughts roamed aimlessly. She watched her husband nod now and then while Martin talked about the beach and the tan they could get with only one weekend. She thought they would probably not see much sun if the Kellys had their way.
"… sailboat is in perfect condition," Martin said. "We should have good weather all weekend. Have you ever sailed," he asked Greg over the boom-thump of a folk rock song on the radio. He shook his head.
"Not much sailing water in the Midwest," he said.
"Then you'll have to learn. You happen to be lucky enough to have one of the best teachers on the coast," he bragged. "What about you, Janet," he asked, turning his head to look at her.
"Fine," she said, wishing he would keep his eyes straight ahead. The traffic was too heavy to be looking around and not paying attention to the road. Finally, to take her mind from Martin's driving, she turned to Darleen and tried to concentrate on what she was saying.
They all continued to talk. Greg was more relaxed with Martin now, and Janet forced herself to speak with Darleen in order to keep Martin from turning around again. She would rather spend the day in bed with him than die with him.
She nervously watched the water as they came out onto route one. The dunes were high and there was no danger of going over a cliff, at least not yet. Martin had slowed to seventy miles an hour, which was still too fast for the road. The sand glared at her through her sunglasses. She must buy some of those brown-lensed ones, she thought. They keep out the glare.
"Here we are," Darleen announced. "It's the brown house out there," pointing toward a large beachhouse on stilts, separated from the other summer homes by fifty yards of sand. "We bought all the land around the place, keeping our neighbors at more than arm's length. It gives us a lot of privacy, even though there are so many other people living nearby. Most of them are old and nearly ready to retire. We don't have much in common with them."
Martin slowed the car to turn into the drive. He cursed to several bearded surfers standing near the entranceway, their thumbs out. "I don't know how the hell they expect to get a ride carrying those boards with them," he said.
The two boys waved the "V" sign at them and smiled. They had no need for white convertibles, except for transportation's sake. No one in the car returned the greeting. Martin and Darleen didn't care and the other couple were too worried about their own plight.
"Come on," Martin said after he stopped the car in the driveway. "I'll show you two the boat."
"I had better unload the car," Greg replied.
"Okay. Darleen, you help him and I'll show Janet our little Kon Tiki," he said, taking her hand forcefully and leading her down the stone path to the boathouse sixty feet from the cabin.
Janet held back as much as she dared. She was afraid to go anywhere alone with Martin, under the circumstances and kept looking back at her husband, hoping he would come with them. But he only watched her for a moment, then opened the trunk and began lifting out suitcases and groceries. Oh, well, Martin wouldn't dare do anything so soon, she thought. Not with her husband so close by.
She stood behind him as he unlocked the padlock that fastened the boathouse door. Another key opened the door on the lock, and he opened it, stepping aside for her to enter first.
For a moment she forgot her fears. A beautiful, thirty-foot sailboat lay in shallow water before her. The mast stood tall in the boathouse, its top thrust through a hole in the roof. She could see the canvas that would be folded back in order to let the tall spire slide out of its prison whenever it was ready to sail.
Martin watched her as she scanned the sleek lines of the sloop. "It sleeps four comfortably," he said. "We might even give it a try while we're here. Darleen and I readied her for sailing last weekend. It's an experience you won't forget as long as you live."
Janet didn't hear anything he said. She was picturing herself and Greg sailing away from Los Angeles, away from the entire civilized world on the boat, escaping from every problem that plagued them, particularly his embezzlement and her obscene affair with Martin that was threatening to destroy her.
Putting his arm around her waist, he pulled her to him for a second, "Come on, I'll show you the inside. You'll like the cabin. Darleen decorated it."
She held his hand as she walked down the small gangway to the shining mahogany deck. "Eighty thousand dollars," she heard him say. "My wife's father was a reasonably wealthy man. He left her enough money to keep me from working the rest of my life, but I enjoy being active. It keeps me young."
Her hand rubbed the smooth finish on the dark rail and cupped the shiny brass cover of one of the running lights. The boat seemed alive to her, ready to take off and fly across the mysterious sea. It rocked slightly as they walked across the deck and she was scared for a moment. It was nearly dark in the boathouse, the only light coming from a single window and a hole in the roof, which beamed a shaft of light dimly onto the deck.
She marveled at the simplicity of the lines that rose to the mast. Each had a job to do. She could easily imagine the sails set, full and billowing with the wind pushing them to their maximum as they pulled the boat through the ocean. She could feel the salt spray splashing at her sunburned skin as she tugged at the helm, trying to keep on course.
Then her dream broke as Martin lifted the cover that secured the hatch and opened the entrance to the ladderway. She didn't want to go below with him, but her love at first sight for the boat led her on. She wanted to see more and she strangely felt almost at home here in its grand simplicity.
The ladderwell was dark and the light from outside cast eerie shadows on the bulkhead as she descended. She was careful not to lose her footing and be embarrassed before the eyes of the beautiful boat, which she felt was her friend. Carefully she reached the bottom and stood still in the darkness.
"Wait here," Martin said and walked across the cabin, his head slightly bent, to turn on the light. "The other switch is temporarily out. It could get hairy at night trying to find this switch. A heavy sea could wreck an inexperienced sailor just trying to walk across the cabin in the dark."
He continued talking, showing her the particulars of the living accommodations, but she did not hear him. Her eyes searched every corner of the cabin, devouring all of it. Though Darleen had designed the insides, it was entirely a masculine ship. Janet thought that this boat could never be called a she, it was all man; all strong, powerful man.
The woodwork seemed heavy in its darkness. The brass shined as only a man could have polished it. The boat had been given loving care by the Kellys and she found herself wondering how two people who loved a thing so much could be so cruel to other people.
A moment later, the answer became obvious to her.
She tried to stop thinking, when she watched Martin draw one of the bunks from the wall. It unfolded into a five by six foot double bed, complete with sheets and pillows. Oh, no, she thought, her mind recoiling as she watched him work. Not here, not now, with Greg and Darleen outside. He wouldn't dare!
Martin said nothing and made no move towards her as he completed his task and stepped forward to the bow and closed the door. Janet still did not move. She just could not let him take her like this as though she were just someone he had picked up moments before off the streets. She had to put him off some way until the others came. Her heart was beating like a drum and she breathed a short sigh of relief as he disappeared momentarily into the small closet-like toilet. It would give her time to collect her suddenly disorganized thoughts.
But then, after what seemed only an instant in time, she heard the toilet flush and saw the door open, Martin stood before her naked and then she knew there would be no escape. He was demanding her body now even thought he must know Greg would come looking for them in a few minutes.
Why? she thought desperately. Why does he want to do this. "Martin," she suddenly pleaded with him. "We can't. Greg and Darleen will be down here soon. What if they caught us?"
"Don't worry about him. Darleen will see to it that he doesn't bother us." He grinned obscenely at her from his nakedness in the dim light, his eyes cruel and unyielding.
Janet did not believe him, but felt powerless. She looked at his naked body and his organ hanging limply down from loins. She could see that it was starting to fill with blood, inflating itself with desire. She wanted to run but knew better. He would only make things worse for both she and Greg later on if she did not bow to his demands now.
Turning, she started slowly up the ladderway. Martin watched her, not moving, not saying a word. He knew what would happen. She reached the top, and stood still for a moment, thinking of the swelling penis that awaited her below. It wasn't right, but he had the upper hand she tried to rationalize, but knew even as she fought within herself, that she was lying to herself. She wanted him and nothing could change that. She took another step up and heard him laugh softly behind her as she mechanically pulled the cover over the hatch.
Slowly she turned around after securing the hatch with a hook, to keep intruders out. She descended the ladder back to the cabin where Martin still stood where she had left him. He was smiling arrogantly, his body silhouetted by the single light behind him. She wished he would turn it off but knew that it would be left on. It was one of his prices that he watch her succumbing to him, that he actually see her repulsion turning slowly to lust as he played upon her naked body. With instructions she began to unbutton her blouse. He stared at her fingers awaiting the moment when her breasts would fall free from their constricting cover and breath hungrily at the fresh salt air.
She hung the blouse on a hook by her head and removed her shorts and silk panties quickly at the same time. Then, hanging them beside her blouse, she stood silently for his inspection, knowing that he wanted to see her before he took her.
There would be no Greg to save her now and no way out. This was the man who had taken her in the most horrible, unthinkable ways and made her like it. He had humiliated her beyond all recall by simply telling her what to do, and making her blindly follow his instructions without protest. She had even stood before him in her own kitchen, nude and masturbated herself into shame simply because he had commanded her to do it. Now they were again alone, this time deep in the belly of this beautiful boat, about to do it again while her husband kept company with his wife not over a hundred feet away. What had happened to her? She had no more pride left as a human being and followed his commands like an obedient animal.
She felt like a helpless slave as she stood feeling the salt air flow cool around her naked thighs. There was no excitement in her. She was a machine until she turned her gaze to Martin and her eyes dropped involuntarily to his loins.
His penis had filled with desire. He had been standing in the same spot, his hands on his hips, watching her as she stood nude and vulnerable before him. His imagination had taken him already to the bed, thinking of the ways he would take her there. Now he was hard. His massive prick jutted out from his body like a harpoon poised to strike at a fleeing whale.
Her eyes were glued to the glistening head that rose and fell with his pulse as he stood watching her. Her next task was simple. She would walk to him, but… not like she was. She could not let him take her cold. It was bad enough to be a slave, but if she were completely cold, she would be no better than a common prostitute. If he were to take her, he would have to make her feel it, he would have to make her want it. It was her condition, the one rule she could make.
Martin did not have to be told to excite her. He wanted her as hot as he could possibly get her. He wanted her to submit to him and beg him to fuck her. It would increase the satisfaction no end.
As he walked toward her, she took a few steps in his direction. Without trying she could feel the tips of her nipples rise in erection, imitating the hard flesh that jutted from his body. A red flush spread across her cheeks and chest. Her breasts bounced slightly with each step and the quiet rolls of the yacht. She stopped, her feet spread wide, her hands placed defiantly on her hips.
So she wants to be a leader, he thought. She thinks that she can make me do as she wishes. Guess again young lady. He reached out and pinched her right-nipple with his thumb and forefinger. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped at the sudden unexpected pain.
He laughed at her surprised look. She had not expected anything so sudden, or quite so painful. Greg had never taken the liberty to pinch her breasts. He had always caressed them gently with his hands, but nothing further. She dropped her hands to her sides as he let go of the sore nipple.
Her head fell back for a moment, then rolled forward just in time to see the top of Martin's head as he bent and wetly touched his lips to her nipple. No one had ever paid so tender attention to her breasts. The memory of the pain of a moment before was gone as he caressed the involuntarily hardening tip with his tongue.
He played for a moment with it, then suddenly sucked the whole end of her breasts between his teeth, forcing the firm flesh to give as he took as much as he could into his mouth, sucking at it like a nursing baby.
Janet had heard of women climaxing from breast stimulation, but had never been stimulated by it herself. Now she experienced something new. She was not surprised, though. Martin seemed to know every secret thing about her body, though he had only touched her twice before. Every pore, every nerve was at his command. She could feel her clitoris hardening to its own erection between her legs, lubricated by the damp fluids that were slowly beginning to seep from her vagina…
It was so sweet, she thought, her head lolling back and forth on her shoulders. Her eyes were closed as she imitated the rocking of the boat as it rolled gently in the swells coming from the sea. She anticipated the mooring of the rock hard penis into the soft flesh of her vagina and the lewd thought started another flood of cuntal liquids within her. The warm, tantalizing fluid found its way from the thin hair-lined opening between her closed thighs and trickled slowly onto the white flesh of her upper legs. She was trembling with excitement.
Her repulsions as Martin, his mouth still locked tightly to her breasts, knew were vanishing with each passing moment. The luxury and strangeness of the boat, her nakedness, and even the fact that her own husband might suddenly come bursting in and find her being fucked half to death by another man, thrilled and frightened her as she had never been frightened before. She felt a thrilling desire to be completely debauched and ravished, her fleeting guilt soaring away in the wind of passion that was suddenly enveloping the whole of her now writhing body.
She made no protest as Martin, his tongue swirling around her breast, slowly and deliberately pushed her back toward the sagging mattress of the bunk. She was ready, roared through her mind. God, was she ready and groaned in protest when she felt his lips leave her momentarily as the backs of her knees touched the edge of the bunk and she fell back limply on the waiting mattress. Her eyes opened and she could see him standing above her, his wide-eyed gaze locked to the juncture of her open thighs.
"Oh God, Martin, come to me! Please come to me," she murmured between her tightly clenched teeth, her arms outstretched to receive him.
And then he did, the flesh of his body covering her like a warm protective blanket, his chest panting down and squashing her hard, firm breasts down into her chest until she could hardly breath. She quivered beneath him in a strange, glowing, sensual delight as he whispered down into her ear.
"God, I'm going to fuck you this time like I never have before."
"Oh God, Martin. Please do. Fuck me good this time, fuck me good," she whimpered. "Do it quick before Greg comes."
He grunted and their mouths locked wetly together and she squirmed and writhed her body hotly up against his nakedness. Her hand slid hungrily down between their tightly locked bodies and forced its way between them to grasp the throbbing head of his hardened cock.
"Ooooh, baby, you are learning, you are learning," he groaned into her open mouth as she stroked gently at his loins, curling her slim fingers lasciviously down around the softness of his testicles. He moaned spasmodically and his cock jerked up of its own volition away from her grasping fingers.
She murmured and a gasp of protest died as his head dropped and his mouth moved voraciously down over her neck and breasts, bringing mixed gasps of pain and pleasure as he nipped at them teasingly with the sharpness of his teeth. And then his probing tongue moved on away and he slid down her body. His lips cut a searing trail beneath her breasts and down to the slight indentation of her navel, then swirled there momentarily, driving her almost insane as he began a further descent.
"Do you want me to lick you there," he suddenly lifted his lips from the smooth whiteness of her belly and teased.
"Oooooooh, yes, Martin, do it, for God's sakes do it!" she whimpered down at his grinning face outlined cherub-like between her uplifted thighs.
"Do what," he teased further, blowing the heat of his breath tantalizing down between her open legs.
"Suck me," she hissed her words rolling out unashamedly. "Oh God, stick your tongue in my cunt and fill me with it! Fill me with it!"
And suddenly she had no longer to wait. He nuzzled her thighs far apart with his shoulders and pressing his thumbs outward on the soft, hair-lined lips of her cunt, slowly opened the smooth pink slit until the tight, throbbing mouth was completely exposed to his delighted gaze. She curled her legs around his neck and pressed the soft inner flesh of her thighs tightly against his ears. Her loins were a hot, raging whirlpool and her mouth opened, a long low banshee scream rolling from between her lips. Like a moving snake, his tongue had slithered wetly into her cunt, sending a sharp, quivering spasm racing up her spine.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh," she chanted as he swirled it lasciviously around and around in the warm, liquid depths, flicking teasingly at the tight contracting walls of her burning pussy.
"Oh, oh, oh, ooooohhh," she murmured on and on, her head flailing helpless from side to side on the swaying bunk.
He licked and sucked as though he were trying to devour the whole of her open crotch, using lips and teeth and his wildly thrusting tongue as though he were a starving animal. Wet, moist sucking noises echoed through the small interior of the cabin increasing Janet's excitement almost to the bursting point. She wanted him inside her, wanted to feel that huge, throbbing prick of his reaming her cunt inside out until there was nothing left of either of them.
She tangled her hands desperately in his bobbing hair, her eyes tightly closed in the ecstasy of the moment.
"Get between my legs, Martin," she breathed, her voice coming in small mewling gasps, "Get up on top of me and put your cock in my cunt. I want you to fuck me… fuck me…"
The obscenity and wild abandon of her own words was making her blood run faster, causing her head to spin slightly. The effect adding to the sudden illusion that the whole of her body was nothing more than a great gaping cunt, a cunt that had to he fucked and fucked until it slowly disappeared into nothingness. Nothing else mattered in the world but this feeling of lewd, intense longing. Nothing else at all, not her husband, not his wife, not the money. Only this wonderful throbbing, swirling ball of white, hot heat burning in her belly as his tongue sliced mercilessly down there between her jerking thighs.
Martin crawled up her body, forcing her thighs even farther apart. She was wet and wide open to the hardened cock protruding now like a tree out from the forest of his pubic hair. Her cunt was like a hot, scorching furnace waiting for the life-giving fuel to be shoveled to it.
And then it came.
With one long hard thrust of his hips he shattered into her. Long, strong, and superbly smooth. His huge, pulsating cock, battered into her like the log it resembled, pushing the smooth fleshy walls of her steaming cunt in rippling waves before its surging power.
"Aaaaaaaaggghhh! Martin! Oooooooooh, Martin. You're a God! You're a God," she whimpered and moaned out her pleasure beneath him as she suddenly felt it grind to a halt at the farthest tip of her cervix. His balls slapped heavily down against her upturned anus causing her to jerk again at the unexpected sensation and bringing one long, heart-rending scream of ecstasy from her open mouth. And then, without stopping its movement, it began to move around deep inside her belly, in and out, never pausing, always digging, seeming to go farther and farther all the time as though it were a great crawling monster squirming around inside her.
She grunted and kicked her legs out wide on either side of his grinding hips, wriggling her buttocks lasciviously down and around on the slippery coverlet of the squeaking bunk. She was one great pool of wetness between her thighs and the walls of her cunt clasped hungrily at the thrusting cock pummeling into her, the fire she felt transmitting itself to her mind and blotting out all thought of anything but the magnificent fucking she was getting at the hands of this man whom she otherwise detested. She was vaguely aware of his hands running over her, cupping her soft, squirming buttocks, then probing and tearing at her upturned rectum as the heat of his body swarmed over her, twisting and grinding deeper and deeper into her lust inflamed pussy.
Somewhere in the distance, she was aware of footsteps on the deck, but she paid no attention and neither did he. Nothing mattered but this blinding, searing heat which locked them together as though their cunt and cock connected bodies were one great struggling monster fighting to free itself from some invisible binding that lashed it to the wildly squeaking bunk. His cock was filling her, filling her as though she were nothing more than a soft, wet strip of living flesh surrounding it, captured and imprisoned by its brute force from which there was no escape.
Her mouth hung open in wild, abandoned passion and she groaned out pleading obscenities at him, urging him on to heap greater and greater indignities on her naked, churning body.
"Fuck me, you bastard! Fuck me harder, deeper! Split my cunt, split it with that great driving cock of yours! Oh God, yes, fuck it, fuck it good! Oh, oh, oh…"
She grunted and groaned beneath him, the low, hot-pitched wails of his breath permeating her ears as though they were the warning blast of a fast moving freight. His cock was a huge, merciless animal, racing madly around inside her, making her toes curl and uncurl out in the air with each cruel, pile-driving thrust.
It was not real, nothing was real!
It was one great all-consuming nightmare that blotted out all but the heavenly bliss of this magnificent fucking of her desperately straining body. She gasped and screamed, her words becoming an endless stream of incoherent murmurs, on and on endlessly… endlessly…
Janet's thoughts were no longer on her husband but he was thinking of her. He had not followed her and Martin to the boathouse initially because he wanted time to think before they came to an outright confrontation and the excuse of unloading the car would give him that time. But, with Darleen keeping him tied up in conversation everytime he tried to get away he had precious little time for that in the last thirty minutes. She had finally excused herself and had gone to the bathroom and he had managed to sneak out the door and clear his thoughts for a moment anyway as he headed down toward the boathouse. He decided that perhaps now was the time to have it out with Martin after what he had subjected Janet to the other night. He would threaten outright to turn him in to the police for blackmail. After all, what he had threatened to do was legally extortion under the law. That might at least scare him enough to keep off their backs. He just couldn't let that bastard get at Janet again and force her to go to bed with him. He knew she just couldn't go through that again.
Greg walked the remaining distance down the bright stone path to the boathouse and entered by the unlocked door. He had expected to see Janet and Martin standing on the deck talking but they were nowhere in sight. He climbed the small gangway leading up the deck and walked heavily over to the entrance hatch. He reached down and tried it but it was locked.
Where in the hell have they gone; he grimaced to himself. Damn it, Martin said they were coming here. Must have wandered off somewhere else he muttered with a tinge of disgust. He had wanted to get this thing over with and head back for town. He had made up his mind that he and Janet weren't even going to spend the night here. It would just be too much and he might let himself get out of hand and punch that son-of-a-bitch Martin right in the teeth, if he caught him so much as looking at his sweet young wife.
It was then, that he heard the first almost inaudible whimpering sound.
"Ooooooooooohhhh," he heard echoing softly in the dim confines of the boathouse, a continuous noise filtering through to his ears.
"What the hell?" he muttered half aloud to himself, equating the sound to the contented purring of a pussy cat being stroked into sleep. It was very close and he closed his eyes and opened them again, straining to see into the darkness. There was nothing, and he turned to leave, his leather soled loafers clattering hard on the deck. Then, as he was ready to climb back down over the side of the boat he heard the sound more distinctly. It was a soft penetrating gasping of two almost synchronized voices, one male and one female. He paused and kept absolutely still, his flesh creeping on his arms.
He listened intently to the mewling sounds reflecting in the darkness as though someone were in pain. He stood motionless, wondering what he should do. And then heard a more distinct female murmur followed by the male voice muttering obscenities back at her.
It struck him like a bolt of lightening.
It was Martin and his wife!
Martin was fucking her down there and the lewd, horrible noises of their coupling was filtering up through the air vent on deck. My God, he thought crazily, they must really be going at it not to have noticed my steps on the deck. His first reaction was to run back to the hatch cover and tear it away with his bare hands. He would kill that bastard for taking advantage of Janet this way again but he held himself back. There were no screams or sounds of struggle, maybe he wasn't doing it to her yet, maybe he was just trying. He would have to find out first before he made a fool of himself.
Slowly he reached down and pulled off his loafers and crawled quietly on his stomach over to the opening of the air vent, where he could hear the sounds coming out more distinctly.
They were close, probably just below in the cabin. He could make out the vague sounds of rustling sheets and thought he could hear the dim noise of flesh smacking against flesh below. The gasps and whimpering moans rose up to meet him in the quietness of the half darkness around him.
God, he was fucking her and she obviously was enjoying it!
He wanted to leap up and shout down at them to stop, for God's sake, stop. Get off my wife! he wanted to scream out into the otherwise silence at the body he could almost visualize pumping wildly away between Janet's widespread legs.
But he didn't.
Instead, he lay there in a semi-state of shock listening while another man mercilessly fucked his wife within a few cruel feet of his trembling body. What could he do? God, what could he do now? It was too late… too late to do anything until he collected his shattered thoughts… and even then he wasn't certain there would be anything left to do.
As he lay, the lewd, wet noises coming up from the ventilator increased in intensity and suddenly eons later and without even thinking about it he found himself becoming excited. It wasn't as though it was his wife, the Janet he had loved and respected all these years. It was as though it were someone else, someone unreal, unseen, gasping and twisting out her passion beneath the strange body thrusting his cock into her down there in the guts of the boat. And then, he wished he could see them. Were they completely naked as they fucked? Or had Martin simply pushed her dress up over her hips and was screwing her through his open fly? It didn't seem they had much time to do much else, but then, all things were happening more quickly than they should the last few days. He had been caught embezzling, his sweet, young wife had been screwed until she almost couldn't walk by another man, and now here she was again, her voice giving out little encouraging shrieks of passion as that same man fucked her as though she were nothing but a dirty little whore while her husband listened helplessly a few feet away. But, my God, what a screw she sounds like she's giving him. She's never, in all the times in bed with her, reacted that way with me. Her gasps sounded so desperate and the low ceaseless murmur so passionate that he could feel a slight rise down at his loins. His prick jerked slightly, pushing heavily against the tightness of his shorts. God, that's what I've needed all this time, for her to just put out for me like that. He visualized Janet with her arms and legs wrapped tightly around Martin's naked body and his cock driving hard into the tight elastic walls of her pussy and his heart and loins filled with longing. He found he was hard and his hand moved down to his arching cock to fondle it.
Now he heard his wife muttering obscenities, obscenities broken and wracked with her passion, so that he thought he would die from the humiliation of her helpless pleading.
"Oooh, ooooh, fuck me, Martin, oh God, fuck me harder… deeper… deeeeper, oh God, yes… fuck my cunt… fuck it…"
And Martin's haunting words in return as he threw taunt after taunt at her. "Is it big enough for you, baby? Is it deep enough in your belly?"
"Oooooh, yesssss… God yes! It's huge… all the way in me…" she hissed between her desperate gasps of twisting effort.
"Bigger than Greg's?" he teased her on. "Does it fill you better?"
"Oh yes, oooooh yesss… I've never been fucked like this… never never… in all my life…"
He listened with aching ears and clenched his eyes tightly shut as though it would blot out the horrible words he was hearing, and quench the involuntary passion that continued its evil rise in his own body. God, how could it be that he could be lying here, listening to his own wife debauched and used like a whore off the streets and feel the lewd second-hand passion transmitting itself to his own body.
It wasn't right! It just wasn't right!
But… on and on it went and he found himself unable to stop his hands at his fly and jerked his own arching cock out into the open air. His consciousness seemed to fade away into an almost impenetrable darkness as his fingers began a slow mechanical up and down motion… up and down… up and down… and his own hardness grew and grew between his manipulating fingers. While below the wet, slapping sounds of his wife's and Martin's bodies pounding together filled his ears and swamped his mind with the lewd pleasure and passion that came from them.
He could hear the bunk groaning and squeaking under their straining bodies and could hardly distinguish his wife's gasping breath from that of the laboring Martin thrusting his cock into her hungry, clasping pussy.
Then, almost shocking him into reality again, he heard Janet's pleading cries splitting the heavy rhythm of their breathing: "I cumming, Martin! Ooooh God I'm cumming! Fuck faster! Fuck faster…" and then croon off into a weird, tiny whimper as she choked and gasped her orgasm out into the heat of the cabin below.
Greg's body trembled all over, his throat parched and a wild, uncontrollable aching throbbing through his still hardened cock. He was still in a state of shock but even through the agony of hearing another man bring his wife to a climax his mind was not his own. He considered running to the house and finding Darleen. He would fuck her until she couldn't move. God, how he would throw it to her to atone for all the humiliation and indignity her husband was now heaping upon his wife. But somehow, he couldn't tear himself away from the obscene sounds still rising up from the small circular opening of the vent by his ear.
He moaned inwardly to himself as he heard his wife sigh deeply and then give an occasional small grunt of surprise or pain as Martin ground his straining cock a little deeper than before.
And now, Martin's grunts were growing more desperate as he began to spit his commands at Janet to excite himself more as his own orgasm approached.
"Tighten your cunt! Damn it, squeeze it, squeeze it! Spread em wider… open 'em up… open 'em you bitch… gonna cum… gonna cum…"
Greg listened to the crude obscenities being hurled at his conquered wife with a flushed and haunted mixture of guilt and desire. His passion was overwhelming and in his excitement he found himself envious of the man who had built his wife to this searing point of lust and had her spread wide beneath him now waiting to take his hot, swirling semen deep in her own satiated belly. His cock was hard and throbbed like a living thing in his hands and he knew that it would not be long before it too erupted into a pulsating geyser of white, hot sperm.
He listened with bated breath to the pounding fury of Martin's body slapping down on his satisfied wife and pictured him forcing her legs all the way back over her head to get deeper and deeper into her. Her responding squeals rolled from her mouth as though she had gone insane and he felt as though he would not be able to bear it when Martin finally jetted his waiting load inside her. It would be too much torture for his own strangely mixed emotions that whirled dis-connectedly through his mind.
But, when it finally came, and he heard the animal-like groan erupting from Martin's panting mouth, he could do nothing but lay as he was and bear the pain and humiliation as best he could.
Groan after groan after groan spewed from the invisible lips in wave after wave of ringing orgasm until it seemed to Greg that the man must be nothing but a giant reservoir of sperm that pumped endlessly from his cock into the waiting belly of his groaning wife.
And then it was finally over, after several long passion-drained gasps. There was silence except for the heavy sounds of after breathing and a few last fleeting mewls of pleasure from Janet.
They were quiet for quite awhile and Greg could hear nothing but a few low, indistinct murmurs coming up from the opening of the vent. His own cock jerked slightly in his hands as he thought of Martin's long hard penis deflating slowly inside his wife's semen flooded vagina and he gave it a slight squeeze and forced it back in his pants. He was afraid they might come out soon and he did not want to be here to face them and give Martin the added triumph of knowing he had heard the entire thing.
His prick stayed hard in his pants. He had never heard anyone make love before and the obscene sound of his own wife getting fucked by another man had strangely excited him. Greg was no longer wronged husband, but an excited listener. His mid-western morals wanted him to run now from the boathouse but his impassioned body rejected the idea, too taken up by the thought they might do more, to move from the spot.
He did not hear the soft footsteps that tiptoed up behind him and the triumph that flickered through the woman's eyes as she gazed down at his head pressed tight against the ventilator opening. Darlene knew that she too would have to play the part of the wronged woman to be able to carry this out to it final result and not spoil the ultimate plan she and Martin had so carefully devised for this young, naive couple.
"W-What are they doing down there?" she whispered softly in the half darkness, so as not to startle the unsuspecting Greg and cause him to cry out.
He turned his head quickly, his face flushing from the sudden embarrassment of being caught like a peeping tom but regained his composure quickly when suddenly it hit him that they were in this thing together. After all, it was her husband down there balling his wife.
"Shhhhh," he raised her fingers to his lips and whispered secretly, a grim look shrouding his face. "I-It's Martin and my wife. T-They're making love."
Greg's face flushed from the crude admission and he was suddenly thankful that the light was dim and she could not see his embarrassment.
"I don't believe you," Darleen whispered back indignantly, her voice almost breaking from trying to hold back the laughter at the utter naivete of his statement.
"Come here then," he moved aside slightly and motioned for her to join him at the opening of the vent. Darleen carefully lowered herself down beside him and pressed her ear next to his. She listened for a moment and then turned to him.
"I don't hear anything," she said softly, a feigned doubt in her words.
"Wait just a moment and you will," he assured, his voice barely audible.
They lay silent for a moment longer and then Darleen felt Greg's body tense next to her as a soft, low murmur broke from the cabin below.
"Ooooooh Martin, your fingers feels good between my legs like that." Her words were broken by the soft rustling of the sheets as bodies twisted around on them. Then the feminine voice gave another soft intake of breath and moaned, "Ohhh, darling, that feels sooo good."
"I-I just don't believe it!" Darleen whispered, forcing a look of strained indignation on her face. "T-They wouldn't dare."
"Shhhhh," Greg cautioned again, suddenly becoming aware of the softness of Darleen's breast pressing tight into his arm. "They'll hear us."
"Alright," she nodded her head in agreement. "Let's give them plenty of rope to really hang themselves."
Greg turned his ear back to the vent in silent assent and listened intently for the next move from below. It came a second later.
The male voice crooned up through the darkness: "Get on the floor on your knees. I want you to kneel in front of me and suck me like you did the first night."
The answer was a gasp and exclamation of: "Oh yes, I want to feel it in my mouth. I want to feel it come again so I can taste it on my tongue."
The sound of weight lifting from the squawking bunk filtered through to their eager ears and then the slight noise of movement on the floor as Janet obviously positioned herself in front of Darleen's standing husband. Greg could hear Darleen's breath becoming heavy next to him and imagined a slight pressure from her breast digging into his arm.
She turned toward him, her lips wet from the circling of her tongue and whispered softly: "Let's sneak around to the porthole and watch them. Then we'll really know."
Darleen knew without a doubt that this would be the final breaking point for Greg. She was already aware of the hardness under his trousers and the way he had turned his body to hide it when she had first spoken to him. Yes, this was going to be easy. Easier than Martin seducing Janet and she going to thoroughly enjoy it. Particularly when that proud little bitch's turn came to catch she and Greg in bed together.
"Come on let's go," she rose silently and pulled him by the arm when he hesitated. "We may as well get the full show."
Greg followed quietly behind her as they slipped silently off the boat and tiptoed along the pier to the lighted porthole. There was foreboding in his mind. It was one thing to hear someone making love to your wife, but to actually see it being done was another thing. But he had no further time for misgivings as Darleen pulled his head over by hers to the small rounded glass.
A gasp came from his throat and his body tensed at the lewd sight that greeted him. There before his very eyes was his pure, young wife kneeling on the floor in front of the naked Martin. His hands were tangled tight in her long silken hair, pulling her face into his loins. Her thin lipstick rimmed lips were moist and she was running them over the flesh of his passion-swollen cock. He had never seen such a wild, abandoned look on her face before. It looked as though she were almost insane, her eyes bulging wide and locked straight ahead on the monstrous penis surging out from his belly. And God, no wonder, he thought, secretly marveling at the size of it. It was almost an inch longer than his own and much thicker. A pang of rejection shot across his brain. He could never grow that big and in spite of his wife's clean, innocent purity he found himself suddenly understanding her violent passion at the hands of this man. A jealous rage grew inside him and he wanted again to smash his way into the cabin and destroy them both but his eyes would not release their grip on the lewd spectacle going on inside.
"God, she's going to eat him alive," Darleen chided him. "Your sweet, young wife is going to suck my husband's cock."
She knew the words would only serve to increase his already smoldering passion rather than drive him to anger. She had seen it too many times before when she and Martin had arranged this little introduction for others. She had seen the sudden first burst of anger and indignation from many a husband and then watched it turn slowly to a masochistic kind of passion that excited them beyond all reason and thought. Greg was almost at that point. It would only take a few minutes more.
And she was right. Greg watched, hypnotized into immobility by the cruel exhibition going on a few feet in front of him. His breath came in small, deliberate gasps as he watched his wife's fingers teasing gently at Martin's testicles, at the same time swirling her tongue lasciviously along the underside of his huge hardened penis from the thick trunk-like base slowly out to the menacing blood-filled head. He could see a slight drop of glistening seminal fluid left over from their orgiastic climax of a few moments ago that hung precariously on the tip. Janet leaned her head back a few inches and stared trance-like at it for a moment, then leaned forward and hungrily licked it away with the tip of her tongue.
"God, she loves it. She really loves to suck cock doesn't she?" Darleen half murmured, half questioned beside him. "I'll bet she swallows it when he comes."
Greg felt a groan building in his chest from the lewdness of her words. Somehow they seemed even more obscene than the act his wife was performing on Darleen's husband in front of them. But, he also knew they were true. Janet's actions and passion spoke for themselves and there was no mistake about that.
"Look, darling, look! She's going to take it in her mouth." Darleen's breathing had become heavy and excited next to him and Greg felt his own passion building to an almost fever pitch as eyes locked on his wife's ovaled lips as she swayed sensuously on her haunches before the huge hardened penis in front of her face.
"Oh God, noooo…" he heard himself moan beneath his breath as Martin suddenly thrust his loins forward and the warm moistness of Janet's open, waiting mouth closed glove-like over the sensitive, throbbing head of his cock.
And Greg groaned again as Martin tightened his grip in the softness of her hair and began to fuck rhythmically in and out of her open lips. He stared increduously through the porthole, watching in almost total disbelief the pink inner flesh of her lips being pulled grotesquely out, clinging to the flesh of Martin's withdrawing prick and then disappearing back inside again with each forward thrust. God, those were the lips he kissed, those were the lips he loved and now he was standing here helplessly while another man shoved his great throbbing prick in and out between them as though they were nothing but a hungry lapping pussy. And again, in spite of his puritanical revulsion, he felt his own penis jerking hard beneath his pants as his wife warmed to the task before her. He could see with obscene clarity Martin's huge, thick rod disappearing and reappearing between her sucking fish-like lips her long disheveled hair flowing down over her shoulders and swishing back and forth on her hollowing back below. Her firm, white tits danced and shook beneath her tensing throat as though they had invisible strings attached to the hardened nipples and a puppet master quivered them playfully from above.
The gaping couple outside watched, their excitement growing by leaps and bounds as Janet slid more of Martin's huge, pulsating cock into her mouth, sucking at it voraciously. Slowly she filled her mouth with the giant flesh until she was nearly choking. They could see that she was taking a moment to adjust. No woman had a mouth large enough to accommodate a cock as big as that.
Greg felt Darleen's other hand cover his. He had been trying to push his own heated organ away from his trousers where it bulged. Her hand pulled his away and she replaced it with her own, massaging the swollen membrane softly. "What are we waiting for?" she breathed huskily, sensing that now was the time. "They're much too busy to offer us the entertainment we could offer each other. Besides, they deserve anything we do now."
Her hand massaging his cock made up his mind for him. Quietly they slipped away from the porthole and stood up. He pulled her to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. "Wait," she said. "Let's go to the house." Without a word he followed her out of the boat house and up the white stone path.
Inside the sloop's cabin Janet sucked at the massive prick in her mouth. Still on her knees she licked at it with her tongue and bobbed her head back and forth in the supposed motion of intercourse. She felt no shame at sucking him. But she was hurt that she had not been able to make him do this to her first. Instead he had forced her to her knees and bade her to do as he commanded.
She could not have resisted long, and didn't really care any longer. She could taste the sweet fluids of his body as they slowly seeped from him. The hands that held her head pulled her upwards, she started to get up, but did not want to release her lips from the cock in her mouth.
Finally the pressure was too much, and she had to let it slip wetly away. Martin guided her to the unfolded bunk and pushed her down on it. She sat on the edge and started to lean forward to grasp the cock that she wanted to suck more and bring to orgasm this time with the warmth of her lips.
"Wait a minute you little nympho," he said. "It's time for a sixty nine," and he pushed her onto her back and crawled onto the bed after her. He wasted no time in positioning himself upside down over her, his head between her upraised knees, his twitching red cock hovering inches over her mouth.
He dropped his head to the softness between her legs. His fingers spreading the thin silken pubic hair and lips that were still wet with the moisture of his earlier orgasm. He could feel the warm, pungent smelling fluids that had dripped on her thighs transfer their wetness to his cheek as he looked at the pink flesh within the soft silken pubic hair surrounding her vulva.
He pursed his lips and caught the small, hardened berry of her clitoris between them, nibbling gently at it, with his teeth. "Ooooh," she moaned and opened her mouth. His cock twitched with expectation. She lifted her head slightly and pulled a pillow beneath it to make herself more comfortable. Her arms shaking as the electric shocks that were finding their way from her clitoris to every part of her body raced to her nerves. Greedily she wrapped her lips elastic-like around the huge, pulsating penis and sucked the whole of its head into the warm, moist cavern of her mouth lubricating it with her own saliva.
She could feel his tongue toying with the swollen bud of her clitoris, as his nose lightly probed down into the lips of her yearning cunt. Another flow of lubricating liquids released themselves from deep within her hot clasping vaginal walls and she moaned out her ecstasy around the throbbing member encased tightly in her mouth.
The fiery tip of his cock in her mouth, drawing along the roof, excited her further. Without prompting she began to hum again, as she had done a week before. "Mmmmmm," he gasped trying to hold himself back as the vibrations from her throat jackhammered at the thin wall that held his climax back.
He pulled his head from her and slid his cock out of her mouth. He would fill her, but not there, not this time. "Are you ready," he asked, the fire in his eyes demanded only one answer. She started to say yes, but remembered what he had demanded before. She must use the words, and the words had become sweet to her, excited her, and she knew that by the very nature of their crudeness they would drive him to frenzy too.
"Yes," she sighed. "Fuck me, Martin. Fuck me as hard as you can." Her voice rose with each word to almost a shout, culminating in a last desperate gasp of: "Fuck me!" There was no other word that brought so much from deep within her. It was almost as though she were giving her soul to the devil when she shouted it. And… it almost was like that.
He turned and fell upon her, biting at the flesh of her shoulder as he lifted his hips and positioned the massive prick against the wet, hair-lined lips of her passion-inflamed cunt. He raised her buttocks slightly to prepare for the first violent thrust.
Then, he lunged forward on top of her, driving the weapon deep up into her belly, filling her with every inch of his swollen flesh. He reached around her thigh with his arm and pushed upwards on his cock, holding it tightly against the upper flesh of her smooth open channel and began to rock heavily back and forth, driving the great pole deeper and deeper as he fucked into her with ever increasing force.
The pressure rose in a heavenly crescendo of raw, naked lust deep down in the constricting muscles of her belly, the boat rocking storm bound under their violent fucking. His cock seemed to be stabbing at her insides. She could see nothing, her eyes closed, her head thrashing back and forth in wild abandon. There was no other place on earth for her. This was as close to heaven as she would ever come, the rest of the world was nothing… nothing and she never wanted to go back… never… never… Then as her mind raced in a great starry circle, the muscles of her belly began to pull apart, like a giant rubber band. It was ready to spring. She could feel the imaginary trigger release the tensed rubber band deep inside her as her whole torso began to churn and twist like a maniac beneath his pounding body.
"Oh, oh, ooohhh, I'm cumming," she screamed. "I'm cummmiiinnnggg now!" and a great whirlwind of release picked her up as she arched her back and rose to meet the waves of orgasm as they slapped deep at her very being, sending her into a psychedelic rapture, colors everywhere, smashing at her senses like huge waves in a cataclysmic storm.
She could feel Martin rise up in his own climax. "AAaarrgghhhhhh," he groaned, his face contorted in ecstatic pain as the balloon of sperm in his balls burst and hurled floods of white hot lava deep into her writhing belly. He kept thrusting his great cock into her, cumming in spurts, each one like a long, snaking whip beating a spastic rhythm on his quivering buttocks. She could feel his pelvis slam into her one final time as he emptied the last of his lewd, flowing semen into her for the second time today. He fell on top of her in collapse. He knew that he could do this ten times a day, and definitely planned on fucking this hot little bitch again and again before this weekend was over.
They lay still for a few minutes, neither saying anything, but only listening to their exhausted breathing and the light slap of waves against the boat that they had set to rocking in its mooring. Finally Martin got up.
"Here," he said, handing her the clothes that she had dropped hurriedly to the chair. "I want to see something." Not suspecting the slightest what was in store for her, Janet obediently dressed. Martin had seen Greg and Darleen at the porthole because he had know that the younger man would be there. Darleen had devised the plan, knowing that she would be able to take Greg, if he could see his wife with Martin.
The planning required that Martin now take Janet into the house, where Darleen would be giving Greg the working over of his life. Once the younger couple had both experienced the sight of the other in an unfaithful embrace, there would be no more obstacles for the two experienced swappers. They could then use them in any perverted way they so desired.
Martin did not have to wait for Janet. She dressed quickly. She wanted to get out of the boat house and back to the main cabin, where she could safely be with Greg. She did not want him to know what she had been doing. Her watch was in her purse. She did not realize that they had been alone for almost forty five minutes. She did not dream that Darleen might be making her move for Greg so soon.
Nearly blinded by the bright afternoon sun, she stopped for a moment outside the boathouse. Martin was patient. He knew what was coming and savored each extra moment. Darleen would be sure to hold the young man back until her husband could bring the unsuspecting young girl into the house and see what was taking place. He knew, she was a monster at that sort of thing.
"Don't be surprised at what we find up there," Martin said to her as they came up the path. "I'll bet Greg and Darleen have been going at it too."
She straightened her hair as best she could with her hands. "Why, they were unloading the car," she said innocently. "Besides, you know Greg better than that."
"For almost an hour. Don't be an idiot. And remember, he's human too."
Janet decided that Greg could not be so weak as to submit to another woman. He loved her and had proved it by trying to steal for her, and by his understanding that she had not been unfaithful by going to bed with Martin. It had been forced on her.
"Quiet," he said opening the back door. "We don't want to disturb the lovers just in case you're wrong."
Janet was angry that he should even be insinuating such things. She followed him silently into the house. There was no sound in the kitchen or living room. She looked up the stairs toward the balconied bedroom that hung overhead. The waves on the beach rushed onto the sand with the surging power of the sea. Their wet crashing impact was all that she could hear.
Suddenly her ears picked up the distinct humming sound that she knew could be imitated in only one way, the way she had heard herself as she had been trained to suck Martin.
Quietly the couple walked up the stairs, careful not to make any noise. At the top Janet's eyes first came upon a large orange and brown painting of a couple in copulation. Ugly, she thought first, before seeing what was going on below the picture.
There, through the open door of a bedroom on a huge king-sized bed, were Greg and Darleen, locked in the same obscene, but exciting, sixty-nine position she and Martin had almost devoured each other in, a few short minutes before. Darleen was upside down astride Greg, her loins pressed tightly down over his face as he licked and chewed hungrily at her wet, open pussy. Her head was bent and she had wrapped her lips tightly around his cock. It was hardened, she could see as Martin's wife bobbed her head up and down in an age old sexual rhythm, to a size she had never thought possible. Greg had never been so huge, so huge and excited as he obviously was at that moment. This could not be her husband, she thought in sudden confusion, and if Darleen had not momentarily lifted her grinding loins to expose the glistening passion-crazed face of Greg, his young trembling wife would never nave believed it.
The huge bed was rocking and groaning with their movement as they twisted and turned in wild abandoned rhythm, their bodies appearing as some great headless four-legged monster thrashing about in the last desperate throes of death.
Martin smiled triumphantly and handed the younger girl a glass. She knew instinctively that he had probably filled it with the same passion inciting liquid he had given her before, but right now it didn't matter. Her breathing had stilled slightly and her heart seemed to be beating high in her throat. Instead of being repulsed and horrified by the lewd spectacle of her husband and another woman locked in the unnatural embrace of oral love, she was becoming strangely excited by it.
She lifted the glass to her lips and watched the couple perform. Martin sat on the bed beside them and leaned over, tapping Darleen on the shoulder, she released her grip on the young man's cock and turned to look at her husband. He made the "V" for victory sign and she smiled, then turned back to the twitching cock of the young man below her. He continued to suck at her, inserting his tongue deep into her yearning vagina, teasing the soft pink flesh as he rotated it lasciviously back and forth.
"Hmmmmmmmmmm," she hummed on, starting to add a little beat to it as she felt Martin's hand begin to slap her lightly on the buttocks in a definite musical rhythm.
Janet listened, intent on the musical fluctuations of Darleen's vibrating vocal chords. She saw Martin slipping off his trousers after he drained the glass that he had been drinking. He had not put his shirt back on after leaving the boathouse and was quickly naked. She picked the glass off the bed and put it on the table. The glass had become hot to her touch. She knew it wasn't the liquid, because she was drinking the same thing herself. It had to be her own sense of heightened touch. She had become supersensitive to everything.
She watched as Martin began toying with the cleavage between the soft rounded moons of Darleen's buttocks. No, Janet, thought, the potion now having taken effect. That's mine. He is mine now. She started to take off her blouse, and stood to remove her shorts. Her eyes looked down at Greg as he turned his head, gasping to get a little extra air. He looked at her, recognizing her, but giving no sign. She was just another naked woman to him now, and she would not let him get away with screwing Darleen, she would get hers too. She jumped on Martin's back.
He started to buck her off, but stopped when he felt her fingernails run down his backside and between his legs. She had gone wild. Like a savage animal, she was completely taken into the lustful battle that raged on the huge bed.
She was unaware of Darleen and her husband. She wanted to do to this man what he had done to her. Martin knew it had finally come. He had wanted her to take the initial step she was now taking, but did not know how to force her. The potion and the overheated sex that permeated the entire house had done the job for her.
Her fingers groped at his backside and he rolled them both away from the other couple onto a space of their own but out of the corner of her eye she still watched her husband greedily suck at the other woman. She could not take her eyes off of him, nor could her ears shut out the wet, sucking sounds that he was making with his voraciously moving mouth.
Her hands had radar of their own. She found the ring of Martin's anus at the same time she felt his middle finger thrust deep into her once violated behind. Expecting trouble, she was surprised that his rectum was soft and susceptible to her probings, opening easily as he relaxed it before her touch.
His middle finger squirmed around and around inside her rectum and she followed suit, imitating his every move with her own hand inside him. They were in perfect tune. There was not as much pain as the first time he had violated her. Now she masochistically wanted her husband to watch as another man fucked her in the ass. There was no greater indignity and suddenly she wanted to subject him to it. Her breathing was heavy, like a tigress in heat. She did not know what she would be able to do for him, until…
She felt something touch her shoulder and looked around, taking her gaze off Greg and Darleen for a moment. Hazily she saw that his hand held two long black objects, unmistakably men's penises, but they were rubber, she thought hazedly as she took one. There was no doubt what he wanted now.
The rubbery tip of the dildo that Martin held probed at her backside. She tried to relax her anus though it clenched automatically against the pain it knew would soon come. She positioned the dildo in her own hand against the small puckered opening of Darleen's husband's rectum, slipping it a half an inch into him with almost no effort.
Her eyes bulged wide like a madwoman's. This was crazy. We are going to fuck each other like men, she thought. What has happened to us? What's happening to me?
There was no answer for the young girl as she squealed at the sudden intrusion into her anus by the large black dildo that penetrated a good four inches in one quick, forceful thrust.
"Aaarrrggghhhh," she screamed. "Too much… It's too much." The pain seared through her lower body. He had pushed it deep into her without warning, but the sudden shock had caused her to do the same to him.
The dildo she held firmly had nearly impaled him to its entire six inch length. He writhed in ecstasy at the intrusion. She tried as hard as she could to relax her sphincter. The effort was tremendous, but as she neared success the pain took a new turn. Its effect changed slowly to one of pleasure as she accepted the hard rubber intruder into her rectum. She gyrated her hips slowly, sensuously signaling her partner that it was all right now.
He did so, not concerned with her pleasure, but only with the searing heat that burned more than half a foot into his backside. He began to move himself back and forth, cueing the girl to do the same as he felt the black weapon scorching the insides of his rectum. Both used their hands to increase the pitch. Janet was no longer concerned with her husband and Darlene who had finished their escapade for the time being.
Greg was watching his wife, but made no sound, his mouth wide in horror as he saw what she was doing.
Her hand was jerking back and forth furiously, pushing the dildo as fast and as hard as she could. Martin was doing the same to her. Their bodies seemed tangled as he rode over her, making no effort to slacken the pace. The pitch, instead rose as they neared their climax.
The hard phallus inside her surged back and forth. All power in her body suddenly centered on her back side. Her soft flaccid buttocks clenched and unclenched in rolling spasms as she felt an avalanche of sensation suddenly shoot through her spinal chord like a lightening bolt, striking at the base of her skull, only to be followed by another.
"Arrggghhh," she shrieked, "I'm cummmmmiiinnnggg, ooooohhh God!"
Her body jerked forward and the dildo slid out of her opening with a slight pop as she writhed on the sweat soaked sheets, basking in the fiery light of her orgasm as she came again and again. Her hand still forcing the rubber log deep into Martin's pumping buttocks as he raised up, clenched the muscle of his sphincter and held the dildo hard up inside him.
She wiggled it back and forth furiously. "Uggghhhnnnn," he moaned trying to suppress it. "Aaarrggghhhh, I'm cummmiinngggg," he finally screamed and then jerked over onto his side, white hot liquid spewing from his hardened cock out onto her thighs and belly. For minutes there was no sound in the room.
Darlene was the first to speak. "That was fantastic," she said, directing a caustic remark at the younger woman. "I've never seen anything so professionally done from a novice. You learn quickly Janet, my love."
The younger girl looked up and smiled. Her mind was fogged by the drug and she still felt the remnants of her orgasm. Her eyes passed over the shocked face of her husband. They both knew exactly what Martin wanted and they both had accepted it. They were trapped but too exhausted and excited to protest.
Martin got up and poured four more glasses from the pitcher. "It's going to be a long weekend," he said with a victorious smile on his lips. "Drink up and we'll have something to eat. After that I'm sure we can find something to keep us occupied for a few more hours."