"Gang bang sisters" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mason Calvin)

CHAPTER EIGHT

The following Monday night, Charles, Jay and Ed waited patiently at the corner bar for Tom to show up. It was almost nine-thirty, which was late for Tom, who usually ate dinner and slipped out of the house not later than six-thirty. It was almost ten when he sauntered in the door, saw his friends in the booth, but continued straight to the bar without acknowledging anyone. He ordered a shot of whiskey with his bottle of beer, stood casually at the bar for a moment, then downed the shot, picked up the bottle with the glass inverted over the neck and strolled over to the booth.

"Me thinks winter has arrived, me lads," he said, taking off his coat and hanging it on the hook at the corner of the next booth.

"How come you're so late?" Charles asked.

"Overtime. I have to work overtime for the next two weeks to keep ahead of the Christmas rush."

"Great," Charles said sarcastically.

"I never turn down overtime," Tom said as though he was teaching them a lesson. "It's all gravy. The extra bread comes in handy; straightens out my bar bills and puts me in good shape for the holidays."

"Well, I've got some bad news for you," Charles said in a sour tone, bringing Tom to attention. "My uncle was away this weekend hunting and forgot to tell us he rented the store."

"Sonofabitch!" Tom snarled.

"He told us he would need the store for a couple of weeks before Christmas," Charles said in defense. "These guys use it to sell Christmas trees."

"When do we have to move out?" Tom shot back.

"It has to be cleaned out by Friday," Charles answered, hastily adding, "but my uncle gave us an empty garage in the back to put our things in until after Christmas."

"You guys will have to handle most of the moving. I have to work every night this week."

"That's okay," Jay reassured him. "We just hate giving up the place."

"How much is your uncle getting for the store?" Tom said. "Maybe we could duplicate it and not move out."

"I already suggested that to my uncle, but it's not just the money… he promised these guys they could use the store. They're sort of friends of his. The guys he goes hunting with."

"Then we'll have to curtail our activities for three weeks," Tom concluded on a happier note, surprising the others with his good spirits when the news was so bad.

But by the following Sunday they were all in a gloomy mood, including the female members of the club. Most of the club's members gathered at the bar in the afternoon in hopes of having a meeting to discuss the problem, but even that failed, because the back room was being used for a private party and it was too noisy and crowded in the front of the bar. It was when Margaret and Stella arrived that they realized they needed someplace to go, since Stella was asked to leave because of her age. After a brief argument with the bartender, Tom led them from the bar.

"My basement is better than standing out here in the cold," Charles finally said, as they all huddled trying to keep warm. "But you'll have to be quiet, so my old man doesn't catch us down there."

The point was quickly accepted and Charles gave them a procedure to follow: he'd go open the street entrance to the basement and they would follow one or two at a time, at intervals of a few minutes apart. Then after they were all inside, Tom remarked that the damp basement wasn't much better than the street corner, which hurt Charles' feelings.

After an airing of their grievances over not having a place to conduct their orgies, they began a session of suggestions for finding a new temporary location. The results were negative. Cynthia had suggested renting a motel room for Saturday night, but Jay put a damper on that.

"Sure," he said, "Charles can peddle up on his bicycle, with you on the handle ban to rent the room."

"Then how about a motel room in the city?" Cynthia shot back.

"It just won't work," Tom said. "Sixteen of us in a small room just wouldn't work out. The best thing we can do is cool it for a few weeks and go back to the store."

"Why don't we rent another store for three weeks?" Margaret Leche suggested.

"I'm telling you, I gave this whole thing a lot of thought and it just won't work," Tom said, but saw they were all in favor of Margaret's suggestion. Not a brain in the group, he thought. Then he explained his reasoning. "Where can you find a store like the one we have? What do you tell the landlord you want to use it for? The minute the landlord sees us painting the windows black and girls sneaking in, he'll get suspicious. Then in the middle of our meeting the police will raid – smell the incense – swear we're smoking pot and tear the place apart. You all know how it is in this neighborhood – they take you up to the station house for everything… and your parents have to come up to get you out."

Gloom settled over the gathering, a few suggestions were made after Tom's remarks and finally the meeting broke up. They left as they had entered – one or two at a time, quietly sneaking out. Stella latched onto Tom's arm and they exited together.

"I miss you," Stella whispered as they walked down the street. "Can't the two of us go someplace and do it?"

"Where?" Tom asked moodily. "It's the same problem for two as it is for the group… no place to go."

There was a burning need between both their legs as they walked in the direction of Stella's house. The frustration became overpowering, but Tom knew what to do about his – drop off Stella and get back to the bar as fast as possible. Three or four shots of whiskey with a beer chaser would take his mind off the problem, he reasoned. And it turned out his solution was the answer the other members had arrived at, because most of them were in the bar when he got there.

Margaret lingered in the basement with Charles and Kay, still discussing the problem after the others had all gone. But Charles was beginning to think more about the present than a week from now, which prompted him to begin making passes at Margaret, who quickly turned him off. Then he started on Kay.

"It's too cold down here for that stuff," Margaret said, when Kay didn't ward off his grabbing hands.

"Let's go into the furnace room," Charles said. "It's warm in there, but too small for the crowd we had."

Kay was agreeable and Margaret followed her, while Charles went to a dark corner of the basement to get a small bag he had hidden there. The warmth in the small cubicle that contained the oil burner was so welcome that the three of them felt in much better spirits. And when Margaret saw Charles remove a jar of petroleum jelly from the small paper bag she was more receptive to playing along with him.

"If you let me paddle your ass, I'll let you slick it up my ass," she said to Charles.

"Someone might hear us if you start paddling my ass," Charles said, looking at Kay with an expression that indicated she'd be his subject.

"Oh, all right," Margaret conceded quickly, not wanting to lose out to Kay and settle for just watching.

"What about me?" Kay quickly defended her slipping position, not wanting him sticking it in her ass, but not wanting to just watch either.

"Want me to play with your snatch?" Margaret asked. "I can do it while Chuck is having his fun in the back."

"I guess so," Kay pouted.

"Let's play it cool if someone should happen to come down," Charles warned them. "Just take off your drawers and put them in your purses. That way you just have to drop your skirts and nobody will know what's happening."

"But what will we tell them we're doing down here?" Kay asked, sharing her brother's anxiety about being caught.

"We can tell them Margaret was interested in your old bike for her sister."

"Hey, that's a good idea. I'll get it." Kay left the room and quickly returned with her bicycle, which was then propped against a wall.

Now that everyone felt relieved, they were more enthusiastic about the task at hand. Charles watched with a happy grin on his face as Kay and Margaret removed their underwear, packing the clothes into their handbags. His cock was straining to get out of its prison, but he took would have to restrain himself and not get undressed. However, the thrill of the daring adventure compensated for some of the inconveniences and made it worthwhile; even more exciting than when they were in robes, with instant nudity. His eyes had watched carefully while the girls slipped out of their clothing, but didn't even get a glimpse of anything worthwhile – tantalizing him even more.

When they were all set, Margaret positioned Kay on the edge of an old wooden chair, looked over her shoulder as a signal to Charles and lifted Kay's skirt, exposing her little bush of hair. Since Charles was just watching at this point, Margaret took the time to comb her fingers through the dampening hairs, spread Kay's chubby white legs farther apart and finger-fucked her.

After a few minutes of watching his sister wiggle and squirm with delight, Charles was ready for his own pleasure. He reached down and picked up the hem of Margaret's skirt, revealing the twin balls of white meat that never failed to fascinate him. Margaret bent now, giving him a better view and target. He carefully deposited her skirt above the area and out of his way, then unleashed his pounding cock. Margaret jerked away at the first touch of the wad of cold petroleum jelly on the sensitive, hot hole, but quickly adjusted to the feeling.

Kay gave out a squeal of delight when Margaret's hands slid under her buttocks, lifting her off the chair and covering her panting cunt with a warm, open mouth. To muffle the sounds she was making. Kay slipped her thumb in her mouth and sucked on it, sucking louder and louder as Margaret's tongue slithered around the opening to her cunt, creating havoc inside. But when Margaret's tongue parted her cuntlips, snaking inside to lick the walls, Kay popped her finger out of her mouth, gripped the seat of the chair and moaned uncontrollably.

Charles spread the balls of flesh apart with both hands, stuck the head of his cock at the bull's-eye and pushed. He watched with wide eyes as the heart-shaped head of his cock disappeared into the tight tunnel, hardly believing he was finally accomplishing what he had always longed to do. He pressed forward at a snail's pace up the squeezing, sucking channel that seemed to be coaxing him deeper and deeper. When the full length of his shaft was inside her, he released the flabby mounds of flesh and they seemed to devour the whole front of his groin. Margaret's ass muscles sucked him tighter and tighter, until he could hardly breathe. Then his cock fired a blank, and the recoil went through his body. His breathing was fast and furious now. He reached around her hips in a bear-hug and began shooting his come with a vengeance. The muscular tunnel milked and sucked him into a state of delirium.

Kay was just as delirious at the other end as she reached an orgasm on Margaret's whipping, delving, sucking, licking tongue. Even after she collapsed with exhaustion, the tongue reamed out the last drops of dew from the walls of her squeezing cunt. It was hard to tell about Margaret. She may have had an orgasm, but if she did there wasn't any outward sign of it. She just continued at the same, grueling pace until Charles' dick withered and plopped helplessly out of her anus, and Kay forced herself away from the still-attacking tongue.

Anxiety, boredom, desire and hopelessness began to plague Tom. He found himself doing exactly what he had always criticized the others for doing – playing the "If Only" game. If only I had a car; if only I had my own apartment; if only I had money… were just a few. The frustration of going down to defeat by this simple challenge was greater than his desire for sex. However, his mind kept telling him it was the other way around, completely confusing the issue, since he kept insisting he could wait a few weeks. After all, he had gone months and months without sex – now he couldn't wait for a few short weeks?

He discussed the problem with his friends at work, who didn't seem to be plagued by the same frustrations as his neighborhood friends.

"Where do you take a broad for a quick hump?"

"Your car."

"Don't have a car."

"Your place."

"My mother is always home."

"Her place."

"Her mother is always home."

"Down in the basement."

"The landlady guards the basement like it was Fort Knox."

"In the park."

"Too cold."

The other suggestions involved too much risk; like finding a car someone neglected to lock or doing it in the hall of a building. The thought of being caught outweighed the satisfaction.

The conversation always ended with the suggestion that he get a hotel room. Under normal conditions he would have done that, he told himself. If it was a good-looking chick he was trying to impress – but not Stella. Besides, he didn't know exactly how to go about it and it was too expensive to start learning. And the fact that Stella was only fifteen weighed heavy on his mind.

But Wednesday morning, as he was walking to the subway, he saw Stella walking straight at him. She was on her way to school, with an armload of books, a too-short miniskirt and such a slow pace that he knew she wasn't happy at the thought of her destination. A short pain swirled around his balls at the sight of her.

They stopped to talk for a minute and he was about to leave when he impulsively asked her if she wanted to play hooky. Suddenly she was bubbling over with enthusiasm. She knew just the place to ditch her books, she told him. The corner candy store. He sent her off on that chore, while he rushed off in another direction so he wouldn't be caught by his mother, who left for work a few minutes after him and would be coming to the subway.

Tom walked briskly to the rendezvous, waited patiently for Stella and hated himself for doing this. Now he'd have to call in sick, lose overtime pay… and where was he going to take her? What would they do all day? You made a big mistake, he told himself over and over. But then Stella came into view and his thoughts were washed away by the sight of her delightful body.

They walked ten blocks, mostly in silence, to a diner that Tom felt was a safe haven to get in out of the cold. But panic swept through him with the sight of every police car, patrolling or every passer-by who happened to look their way. The diner was only a relief from the cold, because he was just as nervous there as he was outside and began to find himself obsessed with the desire for a shot of whiskey. Even that was out of the question, since he couldn't take Stella into a bar. That would really be asking for trouble, he thought.

Meanwhile, Stella was as happy and contented as possible. She did most of the talking and eating, never once thinking about school, getting in trouble, or that anyone was looking at them. Just being with Tom gave her a feeling of complete safety. What did she have to worry about? He was the most intelligent person she had ever known – including her teachers.

Tom excused himself to call the office, wishing more than ever that he was on the other end of the phone. How carefree and contented he would be in the office, with its familiar surroundings, he thought. His boss was pleasant, which surprised Tom, and he left the phone booth with a slightly relieved feeling. Since the men's room was opposite the phone booth, he made a detour on the way back to Stella.

It was there, as he stood watering the daisy, that his confidence began to surge back into his bones and the solution to his problem came to him: he'd take her home!

He stood shaking the limp, rubbery hose, hoping the last drop would fall in the latrine, instead of down his leg. The wheels spun in his head, solving his problems without effort and he whipped his cock back into his pants – the last drop oozing down his leg – and strolled out of the men's room.

"Well, I guess it's safe to go back to my place," he told Stella, after ordering another cup of coffee for them.

"Do you mean it? That's the best news all day… and I'll bet this is the happiest day I've ever had."

"It's not as easy as all that. We have to get past the landlady, who's the worst watchdog you'll ever meet." Then he went into his elaborate plan for sneaking her into his house.

What a life, he said to himself as he entered the front door of the two-family house. Sneaking into his own home like a thief.

"It's only me, Mrs. Ludwick," he called out as he unlocked the vestibule door. He could see the light down the hall from his landlady's partially opened apartment door: "Vat's der matter, Tommy?" she asked, puzzled by his return.

"I got nauseous on the subway and decided to come home," he answered. "I feel fine now."

"Ack, dos subvays iss enough to make you sick."

"Yeah. But I feel fine now," he said, going up the stairs two at a time.

Once inside the apartment he threw off his coat, went around collecting a brown paper bag full of waste and went downstairs again. Before he reached the basement door the landlady was in her doorway again, watching him go down to the basement to deposit the garbage.

When he got upstairs he put on a jacket, waited a few minutes and went downstairs again. She peeked out at him.

"Have to go to the store," he explained, rushing out.

On his second entrance, Stella was with him. He opened the inside door, pushed her towards the stairs and tried to make as much noise as possible, so the landlady wouldn't notice two sets of footsteps. She didn't open the door this time and he sighed with relief when they were in his apartment. He made Stella take off her shoes while he turned on the radio, filling the quiet room with enough sound to make it difficult for the landlady to hear specific noises.

"Boy, this is a nice place," Stella whispered as Tom led her to his bedroom; his eager hands had already slipped up her skirt, pulling down her panties as they walked through the rooms. His hand rested on the cheeks of her ass, feeling every movement with each step she took, while his middle finger slipped into her asshole.

Once they were in his room, he turned her to face him, using his finger in her ass to force her body tight against his, and kissed her with a tongue-chasing, open mouth. As they kissed, he used his finger to raise her to her toes, snuggling the bulge in his pants into the cozy nest between her legs.

It was a momentous occasion, Tom thought, to fuck someone in his bedroom. He unplugged Stella's rectum and began undressing. Stella didn't need any coaxing; she hastily undressed and got on his bed to wait for him. Tom crawled up from the foot of the bed, kissing her legs as he went, then furiously attacked her cunt with a sucking mouth and snaking tongue. Stella wiggled and contorted with delight. He licked his way up her stomach, around her tits, sucking the hard, nut-like nipples into his mouth, nibbling and biting them – going back and forth from one to the other. Then he covered her mouth with his, drove his tongue in as far as possible, while he sheathed his sword into the depths of her warm, moist slit. His tongue and mouth muffled the noises coming from deep in her throat as she writhed with passion, calming down after reaching an orgasm.

Tom drove his cock in and out of her in a dreamy, slow-motion, pumping action that brought him to the peak of excitement without exploding his charge. Gently, he increased the depth of each plunge, listening to the gurgling sounds in Stella's throat and the squishing sound of her juicing cunt, which sent out an aroma of breathtaking perfume that tantalized Tom's nostrils. Then Stella began to meet his down strokes with an upward thrust of her hips and he spilled his insides into the fire of her cunt.

Tom slid off her, falling on his back with exhaustion and taking deep, lung-filling gasps of air. But Stella was still full of life. She knelt over his cock and began licking off the mixture of juices. Her tongue gave the area a thorough cleaning before sucking his balls into her mouth, one at a time, saturating them with saliva. For Stella this was love; having someone to do whatever she felt like doing to and receiving pleasures she never dreamed possible. She didn't see a skinny, bony man under her – he was her lover, and to keep him she had to please him.

Tom reached down and grabbed one of her ankles, pulling it over him until she was straddling his stomach. Then he pulled her up farther, her wet, matted bush sliding up his chest to his mouth. His tongue spewed flames into her panting sex, slipping back to her asshole, where it tickled and tingled inside her. She clamped his head between her legs and rubbed her sizzling cunt all over his face, wiggling and grinding until she reached a climax. Then he rolled her over on her back and knelt over her face, forcing the knob of his hardened cock between her lips, before she could catch her breath from all the exertion of her orgasm. She gagged and choked, but Tom continued to force his ballooning cock down her throat.

There was a sinister thrill to cramming his fat meat into her gasping mouth, Tom thought. And until she caught her breath, he watched her face contort in what closely resembled fear. Like someone drowning and unable to get any air. Her eyes were saucer wide, her nostrils flaring and her mouth in a perfect "O" shape, which he felt was a perfect example of shocked surprise. He was almost disappointed when she relaxed, allowing his cock to slip farther down her throat. But the shocked expression returned when his semen squirted down her throat, flooding her mouth, spilling out the corners and oozing down her face. He forced her to keep his cock lodged in her throat until the last throb and last drop was out of it. Then he grinned down at her as he watched her swallow deeply to regain her breath.

For a while they just lay on the bed contented, talking in whispers. Then he fixed lunch, which they devoured hungrily. Then they returned to the bed again, toying with each other, snuggling close, kissing and whispering obscenities. But as it got near the time for Stella to fetch her books and report home, she wanted one more ride on his pleasure stick. This time there was urgency, so she chose to take it the way she had the first time his cock broke into her treasure cove – kneeling over him and impaling herself. Only this time she had no trouble finding the spot that felt so good and it went in without any stinging. She grinned down at him and slid up and down on his cock until he lurched forward, grabbed her ass and pulled her down, holding her tight against himself while he came. And for Stella this was the best fuck of the day.