DesirЋe Denning slumped on the couch, shuddering as she sat in the cozy quiet of the study. She cried plaintively, weeping her tortured emotions into her palms as if her heart would break. The sangria she had consumed to dull her sensitivities had, if anything, only loosened the barriers holding back her tears, and now, fully surrendered to the alcohol, she allowed her pent-up emotions release – again.
She had purged her soul once, to Helen Buchanan… but the intervening hours had once more built the raging storm of her torment to cyclone proportions. It had brought her, upset, to this party, had been the leading cause of her not eating and then of drinking heavily – and was, with the help of the potent sangria, completely controlling her mind. She was nearly delirious, almost psychotically hysterical, and there wasn't even the sanity of sobriety to fall back upon.
Her only prayer, her only hope was Sid Buchanan – or so her benumbed mind thought. The one thing that had kept her from dashing out of the house and fleeing – but to where? Anywhere – so long as it was far, far away. But there were the comforting words that Sid Buchanan would help her. Perhaps if she hadn't imbibed the sangria so heavily, if she didn't have a head spinning so madly, she might have considered that it had been Sid's opening words Helen told me about the black sheriff, that had sent her into such a mental and emotional tailspin.
As it was, when her husband's associate opened the other door to the study and sat down beside her, she looked upon him almost as a savior, an angel who could save her from the consequences of her reprehensible actions.
"Thank God, Sid," the pretty young housewife moaned. "I was afraid you weren't going to come." She started crying again.
"Everything will be all right, DesirЋe," Buchanan said, and he put his arm around her, as a father might his errant daughter. "Of course I was going to come. You don't think I'd let you be like this, do you? So upset and all."
She leaned against him, clutching to him for dear life. "It… it was terrible, Sid," she blurted. "I… I went with them to meet Mark… they said he'd had an accident…" and she went on to pour forth the total story of her humiliation by the two young men and then what she had had to do to avert a disaster when Clete had showed up, breaking into sobs of agony frequently.
As she talked, Sid was only half listening. He knew the story already, had Helen repeat it to him until he knew every detail. Instead, he was looking at the comfortable couch they sat on now. Plenty of room here for fucking, plenty of room. He had used it often enough, when Helen had knowingly and obligingly turned her back.
He took down a bottle of pernod and poured some into a glass. "Here, DesirЋe. Take a swallow. It'll help."
She took it gratefully and drank heavily. The liquor burned a path to her stomach, but she was too wrought up and too drunk to notice. She drank again, came up for air and continued telling her story.
"Then… they made me sit on his lap and the other one… he did it to me from behind… in my… my… I've never done that even with my husband before… and then they changed positions. Oh, Sid, it was just awful," she sobbed.
He interrupted her with an urging to take another swallow, which she did, and then he said: "Would you like to lie down, take a rest? Wouldn't that be better?"
"Yes…" The combination of the sangria, pernod, and her now purged soul had made her lethargic, dazed, and she had to fight to keep her eyes open. Her muscles seemed to be plastic and her bones like sawdust. "But I don't want to go back out there yet, Sid, not until you tell me about what you can do for us… I need your help…"
Her voice was slightly slurred and thick, as though her mouth was full of pebbles – or she had taken too much liquor and was pretty drunk. The great manipulator smiled and said, "You can stretch out on the couch if you like."
DesirЋe looked up from Sid's chest. "That would be nice," she replied dreamily. "Help me…"
Sid Buchanan did, his cock hardening into a throbbing beast as he carefully helped Mark Denning's wife to lie back on the couch. Her motions were a bit jerky and fumbling; but she wasn't falling down drunk, and he hoped she wasn't too present of mind to turn this situation against his plans. She sprawled on the soft fabric of the couch, not minding or even being aware that her short dress had slipped up around her panties. Buchanan sucked in his breath as he saw the thinly covered pubic mound become exposed… then he squeezed onto the couch with her, and the two of them lay side by side on the warm, padded surface, and he placed his hands around her and held her to him.
Buchanan stroked the tipsy young wife's golden hair lightly, gently, comfortingly. And in a smooth, rich tone of voice he intoned, "Don't think about it anymore, DesirЋe. Don't think about those hard, strange men and how you looked with them on that bed, about the passion you three were experiencing, don't think about it at all…"
In the tortured, stupefied confusion of her mind, DesirЋe Denning couldn't help thinking about what she and the two abductors had done – and why. She remained in her husband's associate's gently pressing embrace, stretched out on the expensive couch, a dreamy torpor making her lightheaded and giddy. His words flowed like honey, soothing and hypnotic… and although she didn't want to think about what she had done that very day, his soporific voice dredged up still more of it from her subconscious mind. She sobbed into the thin material of Buchanan's shirt, finding security in his masculine nearness and the gentle stroking of his hand on her bare arm. And horribly, perversely, the images in her drunken brain started to have a certain physical effect on her dazed mind as well. She could feel an odd twitching in her belly, and for some crazy reason she sensed that her nipples were hardening in her bra cups. She tried to will her body to cease its evil awakening and her mind to stop the vivid remembrances – but nothing she tried to do would work. And what was Sid Buchanan saying? The same thing as his wife Helen had told her?
"… You're all woman, DesirЋe. Of course you couldn't help but enjoy their penises inside you. Of course you liked their tongues on your lips and between your legs. You couldn't help liking it, DesirЋe. You're a real woman… a sexually alive woman…"
He continued to stroke her shoulder, letting his hand slide slowly down. DesirЋe had stopped crying now, though her face was still pressed to his shirt, and he sensed that his caress had quickened her breath. He teased the ridge of her spine, pressing his horizontal body closer to hers, and he whispered into her hair bolder and bolder words: "You and the sheriff were making love, DesirЋe. Yes, making love… and fucking, DesirЋe. But you mustn't think badly of yourself for your actions. Everyone likes to fuck…"
DesirЋe was breathing faster now, and Sid could hear this tipsy little wife of his pet politician trembling with her reactions. Well, if there was ever a moment to give it everything, this was it!
Buchanan brought his hand casually from her shoulder to the swelling mound of her breast. He began to rub the pliant globe tenderly through the thin dress and bra, and there was a sharp intake of breath from the beautiful wife and a sudden stiffening of her body and a convulsive kneading of his shirt. But she made no move to pull away! Buchanan grinned eagerly, glancing toward the door from behind which he knew Khalid al-Mazkum was peeking, knowing he had won, that she would be his, and he ran his thumb over her rock-hard nipples, his heart pounding in his chest and his cock leaping in the cage that was his shorts and pants.
A warning scream tried to penetrate the foggy lethargy that inundated DesirЋe Denning's mind, tried to warn her that something was going to happen if she didn't pull away. And yet, unexplainably, his hand on her breast felt good, soothing, and his voice, so far away to her ears, made everything sound right. It was as if the sangria and the pernod had been some liquid cement, gluing her to this position, making her unable to move at all… and the pinwheel thoughts in her mind made her not really want to move… not yet…
And then the evil man's hand slid down from her breasts and went to her bare thigh, sliding up along the hot skin under her new dress. Higher and higher – until his fingers were touching the silk-encased mound of her vagina. He slipped up and down the now moist furrow from the outside, then pushed the damp crotchband of her panties aside and slipped his middle finger into the wet, trembling passage of DesirЋe's suddenly hotly burning young cunt.
Distraught, nearly comatose from alcohol, DesirЋe squirmed up tighter against Sid Buchanan with the contact of his finger against her naked flesh. Her whole being began to oscillate and she moaned in staccato cadence. The warning voice of before tolled again through the swamp that was her fevered mind: "Wrong… wrong… I love Mark, I must be faithful to him… not Sid… not with Sid… stop it… stop it… not again…"
But she couldn't stop it. She was incapable of pulling away, and she could only lie there on the couch and let her husband's political associate continue to work his hand down between her legs, to tease the hard bud of her clitoris and revel in her soft, elastic vaginal opening.
Christ, Buchanan thought, she really turns on, just like I hoped she would, this time, even though she knows it's me with her, I damn well knew she could after the way she got going last time. She's all fired up for a good fuck for the umpteenth time today, and when a woman like this gets that way, nothing else matters. He whispered in her ear: "DesirЋe, baby, help me… help me take your panties off…"
"No…" came the feeble answer. "Oh, God, no, Sid!"
"Yes…" he hissed back, and he moved around so that he hovered over her limply splayed legs, removing his finger from her wet, trembling pussy. He bunched her dress around her waist and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and slid them down slowly over her full rounded young thighs and hips. DesirЋe tried to stop him, to yell out at him to leave her alone, but her body was controlled by other forces and, in spite of her hesitation, she found herself raising her hips obediently. And then her softly hair-lined, fragrant vagina came into view, and Buchanan gazed salaciously at it, his mouth watering at the beautiful sight.
The great manipulator drove his head savagely downward, unable to control his lusting emotions, and his lips mashed onto her vaginal lips, his tongue parting the softly curling pubic hair and slipping teasingly down the pink-rimmed valley. The sheriff's black cock had been in there today, but Sid didn't care because she tasted perfectly fresh and delicious. DesirЋe shuddered and involuntarily her legs spread a little wider, allowing him further room. She whined sharply and convulsed into lurches as his long, hot tongue speared her quaking flesh. And as he flicked his mouth and tongue around the velvety soft, flowing interior of her vagina, he unbuckled his pants and pushed them down with his shorts, allowing them to tangle around his ankles. Now that he had the little bitch so hot and ready, he did not want to take the time to fully undress. He was afraid she might suddenly come to her senses, and then all would be lost.
DesirЋe's mind was in complete turmoil now, the blood fever of his touch and then his mouth filling her with animal wantonness – yet the other part, the portion so satiated with alcohol as to render it nothing more than a protest in vain, cried out that this was wrong… all wrong and must stop!
And suddenly, Buchanan stopped.
He raised his head and grinned triumphantly down at her, his lips and chin wet with her sexual secretions.
"Sid… Sid… Sid…" was all that the crazed young housewife was able to chant to the manager.
"I'm going to fuck you now, my sweet little friend. I'm going to put my long, hard cock inside your pussy and cum in it." And with those words, the lasciviously grinning man moved across the writhing, weakly resisting body of his associate's wife. He held his huge lust-hardened cock at the open pink mouth of her wet, palpitating cunt, and then he levered forward, sending his sensitive, hungry cock sliding hotly, deliciously far up into her quivering young vagina.
Oh, God, he's inside me… he's inside me… in my vagina! His penis! It's happening again! DesirЋe thought vaguely, her mind and soul shattered by the liquor and the wretchedness of her emotions, and her body one huge sensation of pagan desire. He can't be doing this… he can't, and I can't be letting him, but he is. Not again, not another time today, with a man. Oh, he is… and, oh, God, it feels so good… I must stop him… but how can I when I can't stop myself?
Sid Buchanan's long, hard penis fucked up and down in her tight cuntal passage, causing her juices to flow like a river, his body heaving in demoniacal force as he drew his sperm-heavy cock nearly out of the clasping sheath of the mesmerized young DesirЋe's pussy, then plunged down again until his aching, bloated testicles slapped ruthlessly against her naked, twitching asshole, itself so sensitive and excitable after having been reamed so thoroughly today. She was itching there, her little anus, still raw from the acts performed in it this very day. He was so intent on the release of his nearly bursting orgasm that he almost forgot about Khalid al-Mazkum in the next room.
Khalid al-Mazkum sucked in his breath sharply and felt a tingle of anticipation surge through his loins and stiffen his penis as he stealthily moved through the door and approached the pair on the couch, listening to the girl's half-repressed sighs and the liquid sounds of a cock sluicing in and out of a wet pussy. No, Buchanan hadn't been kidding. He heard the soft moan, a woman's throaty purr, and murmuring, "Sid… Sid…"
His head nearly dizzy with the anticipatory thoughts of that lovely, na•ve young wife of the aspiring politician being thoroughly fucked by Buchanan, of that luscious DesirЋe Denning first succumbing to Buchanan and then being available to him – Allah! It was enough to send his semen shooting out right then and there!
He moved to the side of the couch.
Balls of the Prophet! He was really doing it! Old Sid Buchanan was fucking the hell out of sweet, innocent DesirЋe Denning! Khalid al-Mazkum nearly staggered backwards with the dizzying excitement that the lewd, licentious coupling aroused in him. There was his business partner pumping up and down on top of Denning's angelic, lovely young wife, sinking his cock to its hilt between her widespread legs, his huge, hairy balls slapping noisily into the wide split of her buttocks, whapping down against her visible tight, pink anus. And there was Denning's wife undulating her body and buttocks in tiny, hungry circles, her face turned sideways so that the Arab could see the effect that the fucking was having on her body. Her features were contorted, as if in rapture, and her mouth hinged wide, her tongue licking her dry cherry-like lips. Slurpy, wet, sucking sounds were rising from the action of their genitals, and Khalid could see tiny ridges of tender tissue emerging from the pink-rimmed vagina as Buchanan stroked outward, which then folded back inside as he pushed back into the girl's hair-framed grotto of pleasure.
The chief of PLO Investments found his breath coming in tight gasps and the burning sensations in his belly growing to maddening proportions each moment as he watched the young, na•ve girl being ravished. Her body perspired freely, and her forehead, cheeks, and upper lip were sheened with tiny beads of sweat. The heavy liquid from her clasping cunt was soaking the couch beneath her bouncing buttocks.
DesirЋe Denning looked almost inhuman to the Arab as he beadily focused on the wildly writhing couple. She was no longer human to him, but a grunting, panting, quivering mass of sweating, lust-deranged flesh that was begging for prolonged subjugation, was reveling in humiliation at being fucked by the evil, overweight unbeliever over her. She ground her buttocks lasciviously down into the cushions of the couch and the perspiration on her body and on the sales manager's skin glittered in the pale light of the desk lamp like moving diamonds.
al-Mazkum couldn't stand it much longer. He slowly slid his hands down and stroked his burgeoning cock through his pants. Then, unable to resist the temptation, he unbuckled his pants and let them drop around his feet. He lifted one leg, his eyes still feasting on the lewd adultery going on before him, and removed one shoe and one pant-leg. Then the other, and then his underpants. He moaned, transfixed, his cock jutting forward from his loin, pressing against the arm of the couch by Sid's feet. The soft, expensive fabric of the furniture against the head of his cock made an odd tingling sensation. He rubbed his thick shaft up and down in time to the rhythmic drubbings of the manager, Buchanan, and the politician's wife, DesirЋe, as the evil one fucked into the other innocent one mercilessly.
al-Mazkum watched with lust-filled eyes the actions on the couch, ready to crawl up on there with them to quench the fire raging through his penis and testicles. The sight of that virginal girl being buffeted by Buchanan without mercy was too much! Something had to give!
Something did.
The great manipulator, Buchanan, cried out, "Oh, Jesus! I'm going to cum! I'm going… AAHHHHHHHHHHH!" His body froze in mid-stroke, then hurtled downward again in an insane fury as his climax struck and his white hot semen spewed out of his balls like lava from a volcano, inundating DesirЋe Denning's vagina, filling her womb to the overflowing; Khalid al-Mazkum could see his associate's hot sticky cum flow out around his cock and form a puddle on the expensive fabric beneath their sweating heaving bodies… Then Buchanan collapsed forward over the quivering woman, cooing his delight in her ears.
DesirЋe detected movement in the corner of her eye, but nothing mattered except the body of the man breathing hotly over her. It felt so good to be here like this, warm, loved, and full of the man's cream, soothing her hot vagina inside.
"Ya Allah," she heard a voice harshly grate. "You were right, Sid, you certainly were right! Her pussy really was climbing your cock!"
"Didn't I tell you I'd nail her? Heh, heh, be patient, if you want a little of her."
"Man, is she tender! If you don't fuck her to death, I will!"
Sid Buchanan chuckled lewdly and DesirЋe felt his deflating penis slip from her overused and ravaged vagina and his hands pull at her hips. She could sense the sucking withdrawal between her legs and the cool rush of air to her tortured loins, suddenly freed from the body of her husband's mentor. The pain that existed in her mind and in her loins was replaced by a different pain… that of unsatisfied desire. She had had an orgasm with Sid, but she needed more. She squeezed her buttocks together, almost beside herself, for the end of her torment was so far away. She writhed on the sofa, lost in the hedonistic world the liquor and her own betraying flesh had conjured up, and one hand strayed to her damp, hair-lined slit. She stroked into herself fretfully, trying to reach the impossible depths the vanished cock had a moment before.
In the distance she heard the rustle of clothing as the two men changed positions, and she trembled, half in fear and half from impatience. Then, male hands were searching over her again, pulling her thighs apart, urgent fingers parting the lips of her throbbing vagina, and a deep, guttural voice, a voice she knew but couldn't at the moment identify, rumbling as a storm cloud rumbles thunder from above in its guttural Arabic tones. "Come on, DesirЋe. Khalid is going to show you what fucking is all about!"
She gasped at the force of the powerful fingers… and the sudden blunt stab of a fiery pole of flesh. The new male dropped like a sack of concrete, smashing her tightly into the cushions. His thick penis found her tender hole and plunged into her hungrily waiting vagina, pushing the moist unresisting folds of pussy flesh in rippling waves before its smooth, tunneling head.
DesirЋe cried aloud at the quick, brutal impalement, surprised by its thickness. Her whole body twitched and writhed uncontrollably as she groaned out in helpless and abandoned welcome to the huge, punishing instrument sinking ever deeper in her cunt. But the pain was only momentary, and then the greedy walls of her vagina clasped around the fleshy cudgel hungrily, slithering up wetly to devour its length to its hilt. She groaned in relief at the filling of her wide-stretched cuntal passage as the Arab, his identity still unclear to the helpless young girl, began a heavy thrusting motion in her hungrily grinding pussy. She hissed her sex-fire between her clenched teeth, the inferno raging in her loins spurred on by the liquor and the obscene position she faintly realized that she was in. Through glazed, half-lidded eyes she saw the dark, swarthy form heaving above her. There was somebody else watching them from just a couple of feet away, which she knew instinctively was Sid Buchanan, though she couldn't make out the blurred image, which now wasn't important. The flames of growing lust boiled out of control, and there was nothing else in the world. No today, no tomorrow, no Mark; nothing save her deep hole of lust and flesh, of belly smacking belly, of cock heaving into cunt. DesirЋe Denning, ruled by the pagan instincts of her female biology, responded automatically, not caring who was driving so deeply in her, who was ready to burst his sperm into her vagina next. Her hands darted behind the man's driving buttocks, pulling him to her, spreading her legs wider and pulling them upwards until her feel waved in the air above the Arab.
Buchanan turned away from a sight he now found faintly disgusting. While he himself was fucking her, with her turning on like a vixen in heat, he had enjoyed looking at her passionately contorted face, but now, watching her excitement and body actions with the Arab's nondescript, circumcised cock, he felt a tiny pang of jealousy. She was one little hot-cunt bitch, he thought. Might as well get some mileage out of the sweet little pussy while the fires in it were lit, if she was going to forget so easily whose cock was reaming it.
Sid dressed and walked out into the party area, crossing to the dance floor and standing up on the bandstand so he could see all around the room and find the guest he was looking for. Then he saw him, Reg Fields, dancing with his lumpy wife. Reg controlled the funds from the consortium, the third part of the money that was going to capitalize the deal he was working on. Bounding down from the platform, he weaved his way between the dancing couples to Reg's side. Reg was a fat, jowly bastard, but he controlled a lot of capital and Sid thought, yes, they could really cement the deal now in a special way.
He took the pair aside and made conversation with them, flattering the unattractive woman and joking with her husband. "Ruth," Sid said to the man's wife after about fifteen minutes. "Could you excuse us? I've got some important business to discuss with Reg." He watched the smile on her face fade slightly as she nodded and moved away to the punchbowl. "Follow me, Reg."
Reg looked up at Sid with bloodshot, droopy, basset hound eyes. "Don't tell me something has gone wrong," he said, walking beside Buchanan toward the study. "I mean, I'm committed to the deal and if anything happens wrong, I'll have to pay penalties."
"No chance of that, Reg," Sid assured him. "Not now." He opened the door quietly and Reg came into the study, standing silently for a moment before he noticed what was happening. His mouth dropped open and he stared at the two people on the couch. The lovely, blonde girl's legs were sticking up in the air as the swarthy man moved on her, her incredibly well-formed breasts jarring on her chest with each deep stroke, his dark-skinned cock clearly visible stroking in and out of her tender, fat-lipped, hair-fringed vagina.
"For fuck sakes!" Reg breathed in awe. "Isn't that… isn't that Mark Denning's singing wife?" He had seen her at the last party and had much admired her musical virtuosity.
Sid made a show of looking and noticing. "Well, I'll be damned, I do believe it is."
Sid had never seen the fat man's eyes so wide. "But, that isn't Denning there with her."
The other man shook his head knowingly. "No, it's not. Looks to me like she's taking all comers."
"Well," Reg said incredulously, "it looks like she is."
Buchanan nodded. "How'd you like a turn? Just to christen our deal."
"Who, me? No, you don't mean…"
"Sure. You're not averse, are you?"
Reg was speechless for a moment and then, after a disbelieving hesitation, began undressing. "Haven't had anything like that for years."
"Kind of a way to bring all parties together on the deal. You see, politician's wives do have their uses."
While Reg bared his shapeless body, they watched the erotic action on the couch, and were startled by the sudden cries of al-Mazkum.
"I'm cumming – oh, you little, Christian bitch, you're making my cock shoot! Fuck harder! Fuck harder!" came the maniacal voice above her. "Uuuuhhhhhhhhh!"
Her juices flowed wetly out around his still-pounding prick, trickling down the splayed crevice of her buttocks over her tight, twitching anus, and mingled with the spent seed of Buchanan's orgasm, both inside of her and out.
"Give it to her," the Sid-voice goaded excitedly from somewhere in the distance. "Shoot it in her!"
Spurred on by the words and DesirЋe's greedily twisting body below, al-Mazkum dug yet deeper into the girl, forcing her legs yet farther back, doubling her in half, fucking her like a pile-driving machine out of control. He groaned loudly, roared like a lion, and DesirЋe felt more hot waves of his sperm shooting into her dilated cunt, mixing lasciviously with the pool Sid Buchanan had throbbed into her before. Her head whirled in depraved sensuality as the powerful spurts surged wildly in her, filling her to the bursting point with its sticky wetness. The burning walls of her vagina clasped and unclasped desperately like a starving mouth, and she was utterly caught up in the lewd web of ecstasy. She opened her mouth for a soundless scream…
And her own second, blinding orgasm struck!
There, in Buchanan's study, being fucked half to death by a man she could not identify, DesirЋe Denning was totally reduced to a churning mass of sensual jelly in that instant. Great flashes of pinwheel light sparkled before her tightly shut eyes, and pleasure so acute that it bordered on pain consumed every fiber of her being. She heard but did not hear the wild sluicing sounds of Khalid al-Mazkum's ejaculating penis sawing in and out between her legs, felt but did not feel the fleshy smackings of his sperm-loaded testicles against her tingling, twitching anus – knew only that she was grunting out her climax and was nearly out of her mind with its magnificence.
But suddenly, Reg was tugging on the Arab's arm. "Come on, man, it's my turn."
Grumbling, the Arab backed off. As soon as the Arab's still dripping penis pulled free of her vaginal embrace, Reg hoisted his ungainly bulk over her, reached under the hang of his pot belly, grasped his cock and directed the broad tip into the swampy hole of DesirЋe's vagina. He sighed loudly as he slid into the fleshy squeeze of her now sperm-flooded sex hole. Her smaller, slender body was almost buried out of sight by the man's gelatinous bulk and he began making hard, deep fuckstrokes into her pussy. To the other watching, satiated men, his body moved liked a walrus blobbing its way across a stretch of sand.
DesirЋe could hardly breath, and were it not for the grossly different shape of the body of the man over her, she would hardly have noticed the change. The sangria and her level of arousal had clouded her discernment and ability to differentiate her feelings. Rather that feeling the localized sensation of his penis in her vagina, she felt a large, hot ball of pleasure glowing in the center of her womb. Her head was pounding with a pleasing ache, and her body moved and undulated with the waves of his quivering fat. One of her legs curled around his wobbly ass and, more than goading his heavy thrusts into her, used it to squeeze her steaming pussy and tingling clitoris up to his soft pubis and thick, deeply invading cock.
As he wheezed out his pleasure and came to orgasm in just ten minutes, DesirЋe's voice accompanied his and they howled out his and her final orgasms.
She collapsed then, her firm young body drained of everything, her limbs loosely spread on the sofa as Reg Fields' grip was released, and he rolled his flabby bulk awkwardly off her. She lay spread-eagled as she felt his heavy weight lift from her and free air flowed over her sweat-soaked skin and she felt too tired to move a muscle. Sid's voice spoke in the distance as she faded into a peaceful doze.
"What about her husband?" Reg asked, as he began to dress.
"I don't think she'll tell him," Buchanan chuckled as he peered in at the comatose young wife of his new captive politician. "He'll never know. Take my word for it. She won't ever spill what happened to her tonight. We'll tell old Mark-boy that his little darling had too much to drink and fell asleep. True enough; we just won't add about the part in between the too much to drink and the falling asleep. He'll take her up to bed and maybe fuck her for sloppy fourths. Now, come on."
"You son of a bitch, Sid," al-Mazkum said approvingly, reaching for a leg of the piteous, spent little wife, lifting it so he could catch a look of her cute little vagina, it's matted, swampy curls, and the stream of white cream that ran out of it. "You earned my support tonight for your plans. Don't worry, after fucking this sweet little woman, you've got my unending support."
"Mine too," Fields said.
"Good," Sid said. "While she's pooped out there, let me show you what I've got. Come over here to the computer." Buchanan, not a good typist, used one finger to slowly type his password into the computer.
The Arab sat at one of the chairs while the fat man stood behind him, and in the dark the three men looked at the screen of the VDU.
"You know that I know what I'm doing," Sid said. "Remember, I showed you last week when I made you a quick three million on that one lone deal. As I told you, I've got a whole batch of bigger and better deals right here. I've been working on this list for years. Now we're ready to spring the trap tomorrow. Well, I told you about all that."
"Yes, it sounded very interesting."
"So, I've got it all laid out in this email, which I send tomorrow. My brokerage firm makes the buys at three, and the stock markets are closed for the weekend before anyone can figure out what we're doing and move against us. By Monday, we'll own and control so much, they won't be able to stop us. We triple our money and keep buying."
Khalid al-Mazkum nodded. He had heard it all before and tested the theory. The risk was minimal because of the inside information Buchanan had from his jackals and the size of the investment meant huge rewards. He looked at the open window with the line-up of companies and the number of shares that would be bought.
"What's that?" he asked, pointing to an icon.
"Oh, that's volatilities," Buchanan answered. "Very risky. I've got inside information on them as well. To be avoided at all costs right now. If you bet on them to go up five ticks, and they do, then you can make money, but these are going down. They're especially dangerous right now because – and I've got inside information on this – something it going to happen to wreck their stocks. Kaflooey. So we steer clear of these. This other one here is the list of buys I'm emailing in the morning."
Khalid turned toward the girl. "She is very beautiful. I'd like to fuck her again sometime."
Buchanan smiled. "You'll have plenty of opportunity when we get her husband into the government and we're controlling him and dozens of other politicians. Her father is a rich lawyer, but we'll have enough to buy him a million times over. But we'd better leave her little cunt to rest. It's had a hell of a workout today."
The Arab looked down at the sleeping girl, to her pale-haired vagina leaking a stream of white sperm onto the expensive sofa. "Should we dress her, cover her up?"
"Hell, no, leave her to cool off. Leave the little slut to dress herself. We'd better get back to the party."
And the three sexually satisfied men went back to their wives and the dancing.
After the men had left her lewdly exposed and used, lying on the couch, DesirЋe opened her eyes and began to sob. Little slut! Little slut? She had been used and abused all day long by men, and she felt betrayed and angry. Buchanan had never been her friend, had never wanted to help her, and minutes before, as he had held himself over her sliding his cock so pleasurably up and down in the warm, vulnerable sleeve of her vagina, the memory of doing it with him last week had come back to her, strangely forgotten yet now magically remembered. He had fucked her, slithered into her bed and her body, while Mark was lying unconscious beside her. Had told her that he hoped to make her pregnant so that she would have his baby. It was all clear in her mind now, and how she had forgotten, and how she had trusted him tonight, she did not know.
Her body had glowed, burned, seethed with joy as he had plunged his cock back and forth in her traitorous vagina, but now she hated him, for he had once again induced her to be unfaithful to Mark. She could trust no one, it seemed. She longed now to be with Mark, but she had lost track of him tonight and ended up doing filthy things with three men on this couch in the study.
For too long she had been meek and ladylike, benevolent and unselfish, and men had just taken advantage of her and what appeared to be a terrible weakness in her personality, that of desire to be made love to. Well, it was time to get even. Yes, to get even with Buchanan, for he had taken advantage of her trust and passed her off as a toy to that disgusting Arab and the other man.
But she had an idea for revenge, which Buchanan himself had just now shown her.
Still completely naked, she went to the desk and looked at the computer's monitor. She opened the two files that the men had been talking about, the Big Deal file and the other, the volatility file that Sid had said listed issues that were to be avoided. She opened the word processor and made a new file, a swap file, switching the information so that the two files ended up containing the information for the other. She did some altering of numbers on the Big Deal file so that they reflected a similar number of contracts that it had for the other issues. Then she saved and closed them.
That ought to ruin his whole day, at least throw his deal behind schedule so that it could not be completed before the weekend.
DesirЋe felt the Arab's, or was it Sid's, semen leaking from her vagina and used a tissue from a box on the desk to mop it up. She wanted a shower, but first she wanted to find out where Mark was. She missed him so much. She loved him with all her heart and she hoped that someday he would forgive her for what she had done out of weakness. What she had done to Buchanan's files would cause the Great Manipulator some trouble, however, there was still Clete and the other two vile men to deal with, and that would take some thought.