Freda's eyes were bugged out as she listened to Tuesday. "God! I never heard tell of any man that crazy.
"Oh, he was something," Tuesday said sadly. "I guess I would have killed myself in the first month if it hadn't been for our neighbors. Or at least the guy who lived next door. His wife was a tight-pussied tease who gave him the hot nuts all the time, and ten wouldn't give up any pussy. Hell, I saw this the day we moved in the apartment, and I guess he knew that I understood his situation. I kinda felt like he might be the solution to at least a part of my problems."
"I bet you were real frustrated."
"I really needed to get some regular dick. Of course, now, if I never saw another hard dripping cock, it would be too soon. But then.. well, I was young and had a hot cunt, and I had married to make fucking legal. Then I had to turn around and go about as illegal as you can get. I was fucking this neighbor, Rick Ainsley, right in his own house."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Oh, noting, I don't guess. But I was kinda brought up to think folks ought not to shit in their own nest, and he was dropping a turd in his about every day, and three or four times on Sunday. His wife got more bitchy all the time. She didn't know we were fucking, but she did soon find out that he was not subject to teasing, and this, of course, pissed her off somewhat. But Rick was really the best guy I ever knew.
Bick Ainsley was a big man. Not a towering height, though he did measure a full six feet. But his massive body was a study in bull strength. Although thirty-five, he was beginning, to show a slight thickness about the middle, but there was still the grace of an athlete in his movements.
Bick's arms were massive, and his short stubby fingers gave a decided impression of strength. He cut his hair short, and while he was by no means good looking in the sense that Lance could claim, he exuded an animalistic maleness which most women, except for his wife, found captivating.
Tuesday was attracted to him because of her desperate need, and the recognition that he, too, had made a bad bargain at the altar. They began with casual conversation in the yard, and after a couple of days, had become friends to the extent that he came to her place for a cup of coffee and she went to his, for a drink before dinner. She had chewed Lance's cock into a bloody mess two days
before and he was still unable to go again.
In fact, Tuesday had scared herself when she saw the massive bleeding. Lance loved it, and after he came, he would not stop the flow. For a time, it appeared that he would have to see a doctor, and he would have, except he could not think of any lie which would explain the condition of his cock, and he was reluctant to tell the truth. Eventually, his cock had sealed itself, but he was out of commission indefinitely.
Lance was out after some of his delinquent insurance premiums, and Rick's wife, Amy, had gone away for an evening of bridge. It was natural that the two left at home would get together, and in less than two drinks, they were frankly telling each other the extent and depth of their troubles.
Bick looked Tuesday squarely in the eye. "Listen," he said. "I'm a square-shooting guy, but I've had it with Amy. No jury in the world would convict me if I strangled her, if I could tell what I've been through. And you.. shit, you could shoot that lousy rat and probably get a medal."
"Maybe," Tuesday admitted, "but neither one of 'em is worth all that. Maybe we can help each other."
His licked his lips, and reached to take her hand. "Tuesday, you're a good scout," he said a little thickly. "I'd like to make love to you… right here… tonight."
There was a rough tenderness in his voice which deeply affected Tuesday. "Yes, yes, I think I would like that, Rick," she answered. "But do we dare?"
"I do!" he said fiercely. "Come on, let's go in the bedroom. There's no use for us to be miserable always."
When they got into the bedroom, Bick took Tuesday in his arms. He was so powerful and strong that he could have crushed her, but he held her tenderly and pulled her close to his firm body.
Then, as she allowed her head to tilt back, he kissed her. It was a hungry, searching kiss, flaming with need and desire. They held their lips together for a long time, and then Bick eased his tongue out to flick caressingly over her mouth.
Tuesday responded by pressing in hard with her hips, forcing her pubic area to mash against his cock. His prick was hard and standing, and she was thrilled to feel it lying against his stomach. As they continued the kissing, they began to rub and hunch slightly in the pussy-to-prick relationship they had established through their clothes.
Bick broke off the kiss, and held her tightly. He moved his fingers to the catch on her skirt, and in a matter of minutes, it had dropped to the floor and she had stepped out of it. The rest of her clothes followed quickly.
When she was naked, he again pulled her into his embrace, and allowed his hands to wander up and down her back, smoothing downward until he scooted up and over her buttocks. Tuesday was firm and well constructed. She was soft, yes, but in a molded sort of way. Rick made little cooing noises as he stroked her ass, and she twisted about, pushing her tithes against him.
Gently but firmly, Bick forced her away from
him. She sat on the edge of the bed.
He sat down on a hassock, and began to remove his shoes. Tuesday felt tears spring into her eyes. Here was the first man who had ever been really good to her, and at once, she loved him. She jumped to her feet, and walking toward him, she took his head and crushed it between her titties.
He dropped his shoe, and swept his arms about her buttocks, and pulled her tight.
They held the pose for perhaps thirty seconds, and then Tuesday stepped back. "Hurry," she whispered. "I want you so very much!"
"And I want you," he said.
When Bick was finally divested of all his clothes, Tuesday thought she had never seen such a striking man. He was heavily framed, and the muscles rippled over his body like power cords. And his most striking, single attribute was the cock which leaped out of his patch of pubic hair like a missile on a launching pad.
Bick's cock was what a woman would expect on a real man. It was eight inches long, and as big around as the base of a Coke bottle. He had a fine foreskin which skinned back automatically as soon as he got an erection.
At that time, he had a skin-splitting hard-on which ached and hurt as he looked at Tuesday's supple body.
They came together again, and he gently eased her down to the bed. His right leg went between hers, and the hard muscle of his thigh was forced against her juicing pussy.
Tuesday was so hot, so totally consumed by
desire for this man that she felt slightly dizzy. It was an overpowering feeling. His leg against her snatch soothed her wounded spirit. He was kissing her again with great passion, and she wriggled against his leg, driving shafts of ecstasy into her cunt.
Rick lowered his head, and sought refuge in her tits. Her tits were swollen and the nipples stood out. The wide circle of brown which framed her pink nipples was in sharp contrast to the whiteness of her breasts. Truly, Tuesday's titties were lovely.
As Bick took her left breast into her eager mouth, Tuesday felt a?gush of hot oil slime out of her cunt. Oh, how she hated to waste the precious juice! But she knew Bick would make her juice more and more.
He was probing in her ass crack with insistent fingers. He knew the value of an asshole in love. He knew that inside the rectum of an aroused female there lies a nest of sensitive nerves.
As his mouth sucked and toyed with her tits, Rick gently inserted his middle finger into her asshole. Tuesday almost died in sheer rapture. The man knew what he was doing.
Though they were to fuck countless times before the end of their affair, Tuesday never became accustomed to the delicious thrill which Rick would wrest from her asshole by simply inserting his finger into her shithole and rotating it.
She was gasping for breath, and trying to get a hand around his cock. Ah, she got it! And it was the biggest prick she had ever touched as far as its girth was concerned.
Goddamn! He thought of how sweet that meat would be, rammed up her cunt, and she hoped that it would eventually go into her tail hole as well. But it never did. Rick kept his cock for her pussy.
He let his mouth slide down her stomach and kissed her full in the navel. Certainly, no one had made her pussy ooze by fingering her navel. But Brick again was an expert. He sank his tongue into her navel, and she gasped for breath, for as his tongue went down, his finger diddled deep in her asshole.
"Oh, Bick," she cried. "Let me have it! I really want your cock. Please, don't make me wait another second!"
"If you're ready," he said, "I'll put it in. God knows, I wouldn't tease you. When the time comes, we must always go together, pussy to prick, and try to come together."
"Ooooh! Wonderful! Wonderful!" She was thrashing about, waving her arms spastically as he sank his cockmeat into her gash. Of course, Tuesday's pussy was stretched to accommodate the big-shafted cock, and there was a certain amount of pain with the insertion. But Tuesday did not mind. His big prick rubbed so nicely on her clitoris, and it was almost too good to stand.
Once Rick was in to his full depth, he pulled out about two inches, and worked the deep stroke like that for perhaps a minute. He could see that Tuesday was ready to come.
"Go ahead and come when you feel like it;" he said, kissing her passionately. "Don't ever hold back. Get it on the upswing when it's the very
best."
Tuesday wrapped her legs about his back and locked her feet. Thus, her cunt was held up off the bed, and his activity in her asshole was made easier and more productive. Orgasm was imminent for them both, and he began to pull his cock further and further back and the length of his stroke was at maximum when they blew off together.
When he began to feel Tuesday's pussy biting on his cock, Rick knew that she was coming.
Jesus, she had never had such an orgasm.
When it was over, Rick lay lightly on top of her, supporting himself on his elbows and his knees; he let his cock soak, and every once in a while he would wiggle it slightly. Then, as his cock began to decline, he lifted himself off her, and withdrew his meat. Quickly, he produced a towel and shoved it between her legs.
"That'll keep it from running out on the bed," he said. "You wouldn't want to sleep in a wet spot."
"But, fuck," she laughed. "I'm not sleeping here. I live next door, remember?"
His face fell. "Yeah. I remember. I wish I could forget!"
In spite of having to bite Lance's cock almost every day, Tuesday was happier than she had ever been before. And as love will always find a way, hate is a fairly skillful improviser.
Tuesday found that the best way to keep Lance's cock out of her mouth was to cut it up so much he was forced to take a rest. He was no fool; he knew what she was doing.
Once in a burst of optimism, Tuesday asked Lance why he didn't just get a rusty old knife and slice his own cock.
"Big fucking deal," he sneered. "I guess you would like to have a brown handle to work up your snatch in place of that creep next door with his cock!"
Stung, she opened her mouth to make an angry retort, but decided it wasn't worth it.
Bick's capacity for lovemaking was seemingly limitless, and their opportunities were almost the same. Lance was not a problem as long as he got his cock chewed. Amy was staying away from home more and mare, always playing cards pr giving her time to civic affairs.
As the relationship between Rick and Tuesday deepened and ripened, there was no further demand made on Amy. At first she had been amused, believing that he was exercising a tremendous amount of self-control. Later, however, Amy had to confess to herself that the son of a bitch must be getting a lot of pussy somewhere else. Huh, probably that Tuesday hussy from next door.
Well, she didn't care. But if she ever caught them, she would, by God, go right over and fuck that darling Lance to death. She laughed as she thought of how jealous and mad Rick would be at that.
And so, it went on for nearly a year. Tuesday kept hoping Rick would say something about a divorce and suggest that she get one too. But he didn't. And in a way, Tuesday was relieved. She
was really afraid of Lance. God knows what he might do.
One night, while she was chewing cock and the blood was washing out of her mouth and dripping down on his balls, Tuesday pulled her lips off his prick, and said:
"What would you do, if I divorced you?"
He drew his hand back and struck her a ringing blow just above the ear with the heel of his palm. It sent her reeling across the room and she bounced off the wall. Quickly, he was on top of her, and he stunned her with a series of vicious cuffs about the head. Then, he drew back his foot and kicked her squarely in the cunt. She screamed in pain and fainted.
When she came around, the room was dark, and she knew that Lance had gone out. Painfully, she dragged herself to the bathroom and was appalled at the horrible bruises which appeared on her face. God! How she hated that mongrel son of a bitch!
After checking to make certain Amy's car was gone, she went next door and unfolded her horrible story to Rick. His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed.
"Listen," he said. "You can't go back there tonight. Here, take my car and go down to a motel. Go to the Whispering Pines Court. A guy I know runs it. Get some ice and put it on your face. I'll come down later."
"Oh, Rick, go with me now!"
"No, you go ahead," he said. "I'll come along later. I've… Oh… got a couple of things to look after."
When she had gone, Bick took up a vigil at his front window; He wanted to be certain he would catch Lance when he came home.
About eleven o'clock, Lance sauntered into the yard. He had been out walking off his anger. Goddamn. Just as he was getting hot, the cunt started talking that shit about divorce. She must be crazy. Why in God's name would any woman want to divorce a man as pretty as he was?
No sooner was he in the house, than Rick knocked on the door.
"Hi," Bick said pleasantly. "Looks like we're by ourselves. Why don't we have a drink?"
"Sure," Lance said. "Come on in."
They sipped a couple of vodka martinis and made small talk, and then Bick decided to play his trump card. "Hey, listen; You're a doll of a guy. You know I been looking at you for months. I just can't take it any more. I got to suck your cock. How about it?"
Lance smiled to himself. Well, he got 'em all. Women and men. They all wanted some of him. "If you'll suck it like I say."
Bick licked his lips eagerly. "Man, if you'll let me have it, I'll do anything you want. Anything."
"Don't suck it," Lance said. "Bite it. Bite it 'til it bleeds."
"Yeah! That sounds great!" Bick said. "Get naked."
Lance was happy. Tuesday had fouled him up, and here was her lover-queer as a seven-dollar bill-slobbering to get his mouth on his bruised prick.
Lance figured a guy as strong as Rick would do a hell of a job. He wouldn't be chicken shit. He would bite the damn thing.
By the time Lance was naked, his cock was as hard as it had ever been, and there was a droplet of jizm spilling out the end. He was ready to be chewed on.
Five minutes later, the neighborhood was shocked by a loud, piercing scream which rang out from Lance's apartment; followed by the violent slamming of a door. Neighbors who peered out to see the source of the disturbance, saw Rick walking swiftly down the front walk, and running toward the Whispering Pines.
Tuesday heard his knock, and rushed breathlessly to the door. Oh, she needed him so much. When she opened the door, she recoiled in horror. Bick was drenched in blood from the neck of his shirt to the waist, and there was blood on his face as well.
"God, Bick, what's happened to you? My God. Come in! I'll call a doctor or an ambulance!"
"Never mind," he said wearily. "It's not my blood. It's Lance's
"Lance's? How… what…"
"He'll never bother you again. I just bit his cock off right at the base. It was hard and he'll bleed to death before anybody can help him. Your troubles are over."
"But you know," Tuesday said to Freda, a little misty, "they snatched Bick up and tried him for
murder, and it was all so bad and embarrassing that he killed himself in his jail cell. So, I was a widow… more for Bick than Lance, but after it was all aver, Freda, I was out on my ass and broke as a. convict. What the hell could I do? I didn't know how to make a living. The only thing I had to sell was pussy. But I didn't want to be a whore. So I tried like hell, I really did!"