"The Blackmailed Neighbors" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kaufman Paula)

Chapter 2

As soon as the first bright rays of the morning sun came streaming in the window, Pam's eyes flew open. Only half awake, it took the young blonde several seconds to remember where she was.

Oh… our new house! She stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, and then over at the windows. Those curtains will have to go, she thought disapprovingly. Knowing there was a lot of work to do and an exciting day ahead, she wanted to bound out of bed and get started moving, but Jack was still asleep and she know he would awaken if she got up. Let him sleep, she thought. He works so hard!

Pam looked over at her sleeping husband, admiring his dark handsomeness. He was lying on his back, mouth slightly open, looking uncharacteristically young and defenseless. Just like a little boy, Pam thought, and remembered when he used to look that way almost all the time, when they were still both in school.

Things had changed a lot since then. They had been married just a little more than a year, and already Pam had trouble recognizing her husband. It's the job, she thought. The job is doing it to him. But the job was what they had dreamed about while they were still undergraduates--a job with a big company where Jack would have a chance to work his way up and earn them the good life they both looked forward to. And it had gone even better than they planned. Jack rose fast, until he was the youngest assistant vice-president the company had ever had, and now, at twenty-six, he promised to be the youngest vice-president, if he got the promotion. If Jack got it and not Harry Steers.

But Jack had a way with the boss. Pam knew Jack would eventually get the promotion, and at first the knowledge had thrilled her. But then she had met the Boss, J.B., as he liked to be called, and she had seen the way Jack acted in his presence, and she hadn't liked it at all. It wouldn't be right to say Jack fawned on the man--he was too correct for that--but there was an undoubted air of subservience in his manner. "For Christ's sake, how do you expect me to act?" had been Jack's response the one time she had voiced her feelings to him. "He's the boss!" And she had never mentioned it again.

But Jack had changed. As he sank himself more and more totally into his work, always striving for promotion, making every act and word count in that direction, he correspondingly withdrew something of himself from Pam. He was moody and absent-minded at home, going over and over in his mind the day's events at the office, wondering if he had made any mistakes, wondering if he had done all he could to make himself noticed by J.B. He was short-tempered with Pam, irritated when she broke in on his thoughts, and when she complained about his distant manner, he looked at her in amazement. "How can you say that?" he demanded. "I'm doing it for our future!

And then there was that other problem, Pam thought, her mood darkening as she lay in bed thinking. I should getup, she thought. I mustn't let myself get depressed again. But the thoughts kept coming, floating up from deeper and deeper levels. Yes, Jack's preoccupation with work was a problem between them but there was another, more serious one.

Sex!

Pam twisted uncomfortably in the big bed, tortured by conflicting emotions, trying to sort out her confused thoughts. Her mind drifted back into her past, remembering. She remembered how she, at nineteen, totally inexperienced, the result of an overprotected, over-religious upbringing, had been confronted with the handsome young Jack Hollister.

How excited she had been. Compared to her and to her boring friends, Jack had seemed the embodiment of wordly wisdom--good looking, sophisticated, witty, and with an enchanting aura of something slightly wicked about him. Jack had obviously been around.

Longing to escape from her strict upbringing, the young Pam had been irresistibly drawn to Jack. He invited her out, and on their first date had shocked her by boldly slipping his hand inside her dress and caressing her naked breast. At first the innocent young girl had been too shocked to resist, letting him massage her virgin nipple just long enough for her to realize how good it felt. She had made him stop, of course, and promised herself she would never go out with him again. But she did!

Between their first and second dates, Pam had several days to think over her attitudes. She had already been at school long enough to realize that most of the values her parents had taught her were impossibly narrow, more the result of the bitter aridity of their souls than of any genuine moral conviction. Now Pam began to wonder about sex and about the incredible importance her parents had placed on virginity. Dutifully, ever since puberty, Pam had scrupulously protected her virginity, holding her blossoming young body inviolate from the inevitable pawings of the few young boys her parents had permitted her to go out with. That hadn't been too hard, thanks to their clumsiness, and even in her first days in college she had been able to resist temptation, even though she herself was beginning to have to admit the existence of strange longings high up between her firm young thighs.

It happened very quickly. After her experience with Jack, and remembering the annoyance in his eyes when she had primly made him stop touching her breast, Pam decided to stop being a virgin. It was an easy decision to implement. A group of young sailors from a nearby naval base were on campus one night, prowling for girls, and Pam singled one out as the man she was going to seduce--as the instrument for ridding herself of the virginity she now suddenly considered an impediment.

It hurt. Pam had been ready for a little pain but not for as much as she experienced, as she lay rigid beneath the madly fucking young sailor. He was more frightened than she was. Hoping to seduce one of the lovely young girls that filled the campus, the inexperienced boy could hardly believe his luck when Pam, easily the most beautiful girl he'd ever met, picked him up. When he suggested they go for a walk, she instead invited him to her room. And when he placed a hesitant hand on her shapely young thigh, without another word she had stood up and undressed, baring her lovely, firm roses and ivory; body to his stunned gaze. He'd been so nervous that he was almost unable to get an erection, but nature had its way and soon he was clambering over Pam as she lay on her back waiting impatiently for her great experience.

It had miscarried. Certain that he was with a real pro, the young sailor did nothing to prepare Pam, and when he rammed his iron-hard cock into her unused vagina, Pam thought she was going to die.

Clenching her teeth, afraid that the girls in the next room would hear if she made a sound, she had to lie there and bear it. When is he going to be finished? she kept asking herself. When is he going to be finished?

When it was over, and the sailor had departed, feeling slightly used, leaving a silent, guilty Pam behind on the blood-stained bed, she had vowed it would never happen again. Her parents had been right, and God had punished her. Never, never again.

But that didn't last long. She began to go out with Jack on a regular basis, and realizing she had already made the irrevocable step, Pam let nature take its course. Her body slowly learned to not only respond to Jack's caresses but to need them. They started slowly, with Jack at first only gently touching her breasts, filling her with gentle sensations of warmth and excitement as he tenderly stroked their billowy softness. Jack took his time, sensing he had a prize in Pam and willing to invest some effort, which was pretty much how he saw the world--good investments and bad investments. He was seeing another girl, too, one less scrupulous than Pam, and many nights, frustrated from hours of holding himself back with Pam, he would fuck the other girl until she begged for mercy. In his view, cunt was easy to get, especially with his looks, but there were few girls around with the beauty and good breeding of Pam Adamson. He was determined to marry her.

Finally, one night--Pam never quite knew how it happened Jack had taken all her clothes off and she lay naked on the grass behind the dormitories, shivering slightly in the cool breeze but her blood on fire from Jack's expert touch. For the first time she made no objection as his hands slid lower on her nude body. His lips on her nipples kept her from formulating any defense, and before she knew it, his finger was working insistently into her boiling hot pussy slit and then was in her vagina. Instinctively flinching, expecting the same blinding pain as when the sailor had broken her hymen, Pam was instead suddenly invaded by an incredible wave of white-hot pleasure. After weeks of building passion, she came almost instantly and, to both her surprise and Jack's, began to ride his finger like a bucking horse. Her body shuddered and twitched, lost in ecstasy and from that night on she never again had the will-power to stop her lover from slipping his marvelous finger up into her rapidly learning cunt.

Jack never told her how surprised he was to find she wasn't a virgin.

He kept it to himself, though it galled him a bit. After all the trouble she'd given him, he'd at least expected to be the first to pop her cherry. But deciding to make the most of it, Jack quite efficiently set about the rest of Pam's seduction. Within another couple of nights they were genuine lovers, and Pam thrilled to the feel of Jack's lean, sinewy body weighing hers down while his hard cock slid pleasurably in and out of her eagerly welcoming vagina. They made love constantly after that, and Pam began to develop an eager sexual capacity. But her response was shadowed by an odd constraint that was particularly frustrating to Jack. Perhaps remembering her parents' warning of the evils of sexual license, Pam always held herself back, never again permitting herself the full abandon of that first unexpected orgasm when Jack had suddenly slipped his finger up inside her hungry vagina.

She made love with her eyes closed, holding still, letting it all happen inside, even her orgasms, which seemed to blossom somewhere far up in her belly like the fire-ball from an atomic explosion.

Jack was irritated by Pam's apparent lack of response, and by her refusal to permit him to make any sexual innovations in the way they made love--missionary style, she on her back beneath him, her arms at her sides, or once in a while locked lovingly around his neck. He hoped that after they were married she would loosen up, but she never did, and as time went on, he began to complain bitterly. Pam was hurt, and did her best to comply with his wishes, but she just couldn't, disgusted by the things he wanted her to do. Pam never had a full understanding of her inhibitions, but somewhere in the back of her mind she made a connection between her unforgivable act with the young sailor and the terrible pain that had been her immediate punishment.

Despite her apparent lack of religious conviction, a hellfire and damnation view of the cosmos had been firmly installed in Pam's psyche by the twisted teachings of her parents.

Deprived of full satisfaction at home, Jack had more and more turned to his work, which wasn't hard for him. Ever since he was a young boy, he had been oriented toward success. He would have probably cooled toward Pam, anyway, genuinely interested only in furthering his own ambitions, but their sexual troubles gave him a handy excuse. Pam sensed this, but since there seemed to be nothing she could do to change matters, she tried to blank the whole thing out of her mind. That was one reason this new house meant so much to her--both something for her to bury her energies in and a justification for Jack's insatiable desire to get ahead.

But there were reminders--like the obvious way Jack had been staring at Anna Collins the night before. It wasn't hard to understand. Anna had an earthy animal sexuality that even Pam could appreciate. She felt no resentment toward Anna--it was hardly her fault that Jack was a dissatisfied husband. Pam even liked the other woman, sensing in her a deep warmth to match her natural magnetism. She remembered the way Anna had impulsively given her a hug the previous night. Pam knew she needed a woman friend, one who might be able to teach her to be more of a woman herself.

The alarm suddenly went off, shattering Pam's mood. Jack groaned and turned over in bed, slowly opening his eyes and blinking at the morning light. He peered sleepily at the clock.

"Christ!" he mumbled. "What the hell's the damn thing doing going off at six-thirty?"

"I set it a half-hour early," Pam said quickly. "I thought it would give us a little more time together the first morning in our new house."

"Oh," Jack mumbled. "Guess you're right. May need a little more time to get going in a strange place." Doing his best to wake up, he looked over at his wife. She was half-sitting up in bed and the sheet had slipped down her body, baring her naked breasts. Automatically he reached out to trace his hand over their resilient loveliness. He felt her shiver in response. She always did like me to touch her tits, he thought to himself, even if she's too uptight for much else. He remembered how he'd wanted to make love the night before, turned on by watching Anna's ass move underneath her dress. His blood began to heat as he remembered how Anna had made him feel, and his hand closed convulsively on his wife's breast.

"Owww… you're hurting me," Pam protested, bringing Jack back to the present. He looked at Pam again and realized that his cock was getting hard.

"C'm'ere," he growled, and throwing back the sleet, drew her to him.

Pam started to stiffen, still too full of the morning's heavy thoughts for love-making, but immediately reminded herself that she was only making things worse between her and Jack by her continued coolness. She made herself relax as his lips closed around her nipple and was rewarded by an instant trickle of pleasure.

How long since we've made love? she asked herself. Over a week. She lay back and let out a small sigh as Jack's mouth continued to move over her slowly responding breasts.

Anna had been wrong when she guessed that Pam was frigid. Pam loved sex, and wanted it frequently. The trouble was, Jack always wanted to go too far for her, and when she resisted his demands, the whole thing became a grim experience. Now, she let her eyes close dreamily and lay still on her back, letting him kindle her desire. A palpitating warmth spread downward from her nipples, heating up her belly and making her vagina tingle. She quivered when she sensed her husband's hand on her stomach, sliding lower, softly stroking her sensitive skin. She let him open her legs with his hands, beginning to breathe faster when he ran his fingertips up the insides of her now-trembling thighs, gasping when he made the first tentative contact with her eagerly waiting pussy. She had to clamp her teeth down hard on her lip to keep from moaning as she felt the familiar ecstasy of Jack's hard groping finger slithering up into her tender vagina. Oh, it feels so wonderful, she thought with awe. Why can't it he this way always? Her thighs felt hot and wet as she sensed her inner secretions pumped from her cunt by Jack's insistently digging finger. Dreamily, Pam let her thighs fall further open as she felt Jack's body rise up over hers. She knew he was about to fuck her.

Looking down at his beautiful blonde wife, Jack temporarily forgot all about Anna Collins. Lying there naked, her eyes closed and her blonde hair streaming across the pillow in a swirl of gold, her full, pink tipped breasts rising and falling rapidly from her heavy breathing, her satiny skin giving sensuously beneath his exploring fingers, he could think of nothing else. The hot musky smell of her aroused pussy filled his nostrils, and looking down, he saw that her blonde pussy curls were darkening as her ready secretions bubbled from up inside her vagina. He withdrew his finger from her pussy-hole, gleaming with cunt-juices. He slid the slippery digit up and down her heated pink slit, pressing hard on her tiny, half-hidden clitoris, wanting to make her jump.

Why doesn't she react? he thought for the hundredth time. Hell, most women, if he did to them what he was doing to his wife, would come half off the bed. But she lay there, eyes tightly closed, controlling herself, the only evidence of her arousal, the deep flush on her lovely face and her telltale breathing.

Why doesn't she just let it out; he thought. Oh, hell, we can't prosy for miracles, and not wasting any more of his valuable time, Jack seized his hard, ready cock in one hand and scrambled between his wife's sleek, wide-spread thighs. He worked the swollen tip up an inch or two into Pam's tight vaginal opening and then, when he sensed the first part of the shaft was wet enough, slowly slid it the rest of the way up inside. As her hot slick tunnel closed around his throbbing penis, Jack couldn't help moaning. Well, one of as Is getting something out of this, he thought bitterly.

What he couldn't know is that, deep inside her body, Pam was experiencing a full range of sexual delight--right up to the point where it threatened to snap her iron control, and then she would clamp down, holding her reaction inside where it was safe. Behind her closed eyes she was in a dream-world of sensual ecstasy, her whole body thrilling to every movement of Jack's rigid cock inside her eagerly accepting cunt. A vague fear that if she let her tremendous inner response show on the outside, she would somehow be punished for it constantly, Pam held back from acceptance of the full possibilities of sex. She had orgasms, quiet orgasms that happened somewhere inside herself, in a vaguely defined area near her genitals, but it was a private thing that she kept to herself, afraid to let it show in the fear that it might be taken away from her. One was building now, a growing pressure that she knew how to defuse, so that instead of exploding the way it had done that first time when Jack had thrust his finger into her unexpecting vagina so long before, it would wash over her nerve ends in a controlled wave of pleasure. The closer to orgasm she got, the stiller her body became on the outside.

Raising himself up on stiffened arms, Jack stared down at his lovely wife. Christ, what's happening? he thought as she grew completely still beneath him. Did I do something to turn her off? Redoubling his efforts, he watched his long thick cock flashing in and out of Pam's cunt, moving the soft flesh with each hard stroke, wet and glistening with her hot inner juices, her soaked blonde pubic tendrils clinging wetly to the gleaming white shaft. I feel like I'm doing this all by myself, he thought bitterly.

An innate desire for power, the same force that drove him at work, made Jack want to force a reaction from his wife. He stared again at where his cock was burying itself rhythmically and, apparently, unavailingly in Pam's seemingly unresponsive cunt. Only her copiously flowing cuntal juices gave evidence that her body knew that he was there at all.

Desperate, Jack suddenly tore his cock from Pam's vagina, and glared down at her sex-slippery loins.

Christ, she s so beautiful! he thought, his gaze lingering over her softly curved hips and thighs. He ran one hand lovingly over her fleshy outer pussy lips, slipping the edge of it inside the hot wet valley between, opening her inner depths to his gaze. He saw at once that Pam's normally button-like clitoris had swollen larger during their love-making and now stood up tremblingly, like a miniature penis.

I know what the hell she needs! Jack thought excitedly, and without any more hesitation he bent forward and buried his head between his wife's obediently open thighs, taking her erect clitoris between his lips and sucking hard on its tiny sensitive shaft.

There was one long moment when Pam made no response at all. She was far away, letting her husband's gratifyingly hard penis bring her closer and closer to inner orgasmic release. She was trembling on the edge, about to let herself drift away on a tide of inner bliss, when she felt Jack unaccountably jerk his cock out of her vagina She waited, confused, and then felt his hand probing uncomfortably hard at her genitals. Holding her breath, not wanting to break her mood of inner ecstasy, Pam said nothing, but a moment later she felt his bristly cheeks against the inside of her sensitive thighs and then something hot and wet was moving over her sex organs.

My God, he was licking and slavering at her genitals like an animal!

With a feeling of sudden revulsion, Pam reached down and tried to pry her husband's head from between her shuddering thighs.

"Stop it!" she shrieked in horror. "Oh, God, Jack… don't!" She wrapped her fingers in his dark hair and tried to tug his head free, at the same time struggling to close her straining thighs.

Jack looked up in surprise. At first he had thought that Pam had accepted his new and bold advance when she made no immediate response.

True, he'd never before gotten away with anything like this with her, but there was always a first time. Maybe she was growing up. When she began to struggle and cry out he thought she was reacting in passion and felt that he had at last unlocked the key to her sexuality. But quickly enough he realized she was begging him to stop, and her painful tugging at his hair left him little choice.

"What the fuck's the matter with you?" he spluttered, his face glistening obscenely with her cunt-juices. Pam's eyes were wide and filled with horror.

"Oh, Jack… How could you do such a horrible thing?" she managed to gasp.

"What do you mean horrible thing?" he demanded angrily. "Most girls would love to have their cunts eaten."

"I-It's disgusting!" Pam said with a shudder. "I-I think I'm going to be sick."

"Sick?" Jack said with sudden rage, humiliated by Pam's unexpected response. "You think you're going to be sick? Shit… I'm the one who should be sick… from the dead way you make love. It's like making love to a corpse… Sometimes I feel like I'm jacking off…" Insults that had been festering in him for months began to bubble up from his guts and he had to make a conscious effort to stop himself, knowing he was going too far. The stricken look on Pam's face quickly sobered him, and he fell silent, but he knew both he and Pam were far past the point of no return. He had said things to her that no woman could for give.

He felt an overwhelming urge to get out of the bedroom and out of their goddamn new dream-house. He wanted to go to the office and to its endless conspiracies and counter-conspiracies, a world he knew much better than this hopeless attempt to understand his beautiful but fucked-up wife.

With a smothered curse he rolled off the bed and stalked into the bathroom. He barely took time to wash and shave, and when he came back into the bedroom, Pam was still lying where he had left her, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Thank God there are no tears, he told himself, but sensed it might have been less ominous if there were. Pam still hadn't moved when he finally strode from the room and left the house.

As soon as she heard the front door slam, Pam began to cry. She lay there for a half-hour, the tears streaming down her grief-distorted face. The open break had finally come, the one she had dreaded, and now their sexual differences lay out in the open, no longer a silent wall of misunderstanding, but naked and threatening, like an unexploded artillery shell.

Well, maybe Its better, she thought. Now at least we have something concrete to deal with. As she remembered what had happened, Pam began to get angry.

So he thinks I'm a corpse, she thought bitterly. Just because I don't want to make love the same way he does! With a shudder she thought back to what he hat tried to do to her. Ugh! Filthy! Revolting! Disgusting! she thought in revulsion. She knew that what he wanted was wrong… depraved… and how could he insist that she join him in such a disgusting act? She remembered how she had looked up in horror to find his head buried between her thighs and the horrible sounds as he licked and sucked at her violated genitals. And he'd had the gall to shout at her when he was the one who should have been ashamed!

Well, she'd show him! There would be no more sex from her until he begged her pardon!

Pam buried her deeper misgivings under this new resolve, but almost immediately a practical problem arose. What about herself? Wouldn't she be punishing herself, too, if she refused to make love? Despite the limitations on her outward sexual reactions, Pam had grown to love it.

Since a year before their marriage, she and Jack had been making love regularly, although it had begun to happen less and less frequently in the last few months. This morning she had been really horny, she admitted to herself, and she was even hornier now, since Jack had cheated her of her orgasm with his disgusting behavior.

"I'll do it myself!" she said aloud with sudden resolution, and then stood, shocked by her own daring. Could she do it? Could she… masturbate? The word frightened her. Wasn't it as bad as what Jack had tried to do to her this morning? Well, maybe not, she thought. After all, Jack puts his finger in me all the time. It's certainly better than… and she shuddered as she thought of someone putting his mouth to a wet, hairy, quivering cunt.

And I can control it myself, Pam continued to think excitedly. I won't expect any more than I have to give! With these last thoughts Pam cut off the debate. She had made up her mind and she would stick by it!

Well, where do we start? she asked herself, and looked apprehensively down to where her tufted blonde pubic hair peeked out from between her thighs. Timidly she reached down with one hand and ran her finger the length of her vaginal slit. She felt an instant spasm of answering pleasure, but at the same time became aware that her pussy was still wet and slippery, not only with her own slick lubricants but also with Jack's saliva.

"Ugh," she said to herself and decided the first thing she would do was take a bath. Half-prude, half-libertine, the young housewife slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. When she saw her husband's shaving equipment spread haphazardly over the sink where he had left it in his haste, she had to stifle a sob. But she vowed to go ahead with her plan, being far too young and headstrong to make the attempt to meet Jack half-way. She knew that she was right in her belief that certain kinds of sex were inexcusably wrong and there was no way she could coerce her mind into accepting them. She would persevere.

Pam ran a tub full of water, carefully keeping her mind away from what had happened this morning and what she intended to do. As soon as she got out of the bath she would… There were no clear pictures in her mind of how one masturbated, but she would learn, and… a look of hope came over her face.

Maybe she could teach herself to be more like Jack wanted. Less like a corpse.

Now that she had removed her aims further from the dangerous realms of self-gratification, the young blonde felt more at ease with her earlier decision. Yes, she would teach herself, learn to be less inhibited.

Maybe by herself, with no one else involved, it would be easier.

Slipping into the water, Pam gratefully lay back and relaxed. How good the water feels, she thought. How sensuous. Letting the water lull her tensions, Pam gradually made herself become aware of her body. Her skin was warm, all except the tips of her breasts which jutted up above the water's surface. Without thinking, she blew on her nipples and the little pink buds instantly began to harden under the rush of cool air.

"Mmmm," Pam sighed and shivered with delight. Instantly her hands reached up and began to stroke her own breasts, paying particular attention to the quiveringly erect nipples, tweaking and rolling their pink hardness between her thumbs and forefingers. Pam found her eyes closing automatically and forced them back open, so she could see herself touching her own body. Totally absorbed in what she was doing, she forgot to be self-conscious, and found that watching what was happening added to her excitement.

As she stroked her breasts, her legs began to move in sympathy, writhing slowly under the water as the dreamy eyed young girl rubbed delight into her passionately swelling twin mounds. Slightly out of breath now, Pam began to rub her thighs together, trying to put pressure on her hidden pussy. But she kept slipping further down in the tub, and had to take her hands from her breasts to prop herself back up again.

Shall I do it now? she asked herself breathlessly. One hand was under the water, trailing undecidedly over her water-slippery thigh, only inches away from where her cunt wavered and shimmered through the shifting water.

With a groan of decision, Pam lay back in the tub, her head propped up on the edge. Parting her long, graceful legs, she eagerly ran one hand down the silky inside of one thigh until it was groping at the edge of her pussy. Holding her breath, Pam gently inserted the tip of one finger up into her waiting hungry slit and sought out her tiny clitoral button. She pressed hard.

Pam's head thudded back against the edge of the tub as a hot wave of lust shot through her loins, switched on by her probing finger. Her mouth opened, gasping for more air and for a moment Pam was unable to move, amazed at the intensity of the feeling she could wring from her own body.

Why? she thought in confusion. Why Is it so much stronger now?

Anticipating her own reactions, Pam was able to short-circuit the automatic defenses that had always protected her from reacting too much to her husband's touch. Trusting herself, knowing that the whole operation was safe, under her own control, Pam continued to titillate her throbbingly erect clitoris, fingering delight into her body. She continued to lie back, her only outward reaction, sudden tremors convulsing her muscles from time to time when she touched a particularly sensitive place.

She knew she could cum this way, just from her clitoris, but this, her first time, Pam wanted to feel her fingers in her vagina. Regretfully pulling her hand away from her almost painfully erect clitoris, Pam sought out her vaginal opening, clumsily at first, having trouble working her finger inside because the bath water was washing away her lubricating oils as fast as they collected. Finally she had her finger up inside, exploring her own inner terrain, fascinated by the muscular resilience of her vaginal passage. She tried to move her finger in and out, the way Jack's cock did, but it was hard for her to get the rhythm. Each time she tried, the answering ecstasy in her stretched pussy so confused and weakened her that she had to stop and catch her breath.

And she began to wonder if she would be able to satisfy herself.

Compared to Jack's thick cock, her finger was ridiculously small and thin. She wormed in another finger' and the added thickness stretched the vaginal opening gratifyingly, but try as she might, they were lust too short to reach far enough inside. The frustrated young wife was just about to admit defeat and go back go to pummeling her patiently waiting clitoris, when her eyes lit up.

Hanging from a bracket on the wall above the tub was some special soap that Jack used. It came on a stick--a long lumpy cylinder of smooth soap that looked for all the world like a battered penis.

Panting softly, Pam stared at the suddenly obscene object for several seconds. Only a few minutes before, the cautious young blonde would never have entertained the lurid intention that now dominated her mind.

But by now she was so aroused from her unsuccessful finger-fucking that she was willing to try anything. Doubting that she could make herself cum with just her own fingers, and wanting, needing to cum, Pam impulsively reached up and took the long cylindrical stick of soap down from its peg.

Eagerly she plunged it underneath the water, watching it shimmer and change shape as it approached her gaping pussy-hole. Holding her breath, she maneuvered the blunt tip into her ready opening, and then, with a grunt, rammed it up Inside. The soap slid home effortlessly, becoming slippery as it melted, and in an instant Pam was completely impaled on its knobby shaft.

Staring stupidly down at the several inches of soap that still protruded from her suddenly filled cunt, it took Pam several seconds to realize fully what she'd done. God, I'm fucking myself with Jack's soap-stick! her mind screamed out. Is this any better than what I wouldn't let him do to me? She wanted to tear the obscene dildo from her vagina, but the very obscenity of what she was doing, the sight of that ugly inanimate object jutting lewdly back out of her wide-open cunt sent a shiver of pleasure up Pam's spine. How can there be anything wrong when I'm doing it to myself? she reasoned, and feeling how the long slippery shaft was stretching her open inside, she suddenly grabbed the handle and began to slither it in and out of her gaping cunt.

"Aaaaahhhh," she moaned quietly, the first sound she had ever remembered making when sexually aroused. For an instant she wondered if her battle to remain silent while the sailor painfully deflowered her had anything to do with it, but by then she didn't care. Bracing her feet against the end of the tub so that she wouldn't lose her balance, Pam seized the end of the stick with both hands and began to ram it in harder, stretching her vagina as much as she could, bringing herself to the threshold of pain and then backing off slightly. She experimented, twisting the long slippery soap her sideways, rotating it, tantalizing herself by holding the greasy dildo poised, right at the opening to her obscenely delighted cunt, making her quaking insides wait, and then ramming it suddenly up inside as far as it would go.

She tried to watch its every move as it slithered in and out of her wildly reacting pussy, but as her motion increased and the soap melted, the whole lower part of her body became lost in a lather of soap bubbles.

"Ah, well, cleanliness is next to Godliness," she managed to choke out just before she came. She could actually feel her orgasm starting, located somewhere far up inside, near where the end of the soap-stick pounded against the tight opening to her womb. She hung on the edge, and she knew that with the right effort she could change the impending explosion to the same safe, mild, satisfying inner release that she permitted herself with Jack.

But with a choked moan she gripped the soap stick hard and rammed it as far up inside as it would go, puncturing the edge of her orgasm, letting it loose to ravage her suddenly helpless body. Holding tight to the slippery shaft, Pam held it inside while her legs kicked out spasmodically and her back arched, throwing her head back so that the tendons in her neck stood out like cables. She made no sound other than a choking rattle deep in her throat. Her stomach muscles stood out in a hard ridge-line, tight drawn, as an awesome battle raged far up inside the amazed young blonde's shuddering belly. The slippery evidence of her orgasmic upheaval began to join the soap suds on the surface of the water as her cuntal muscles spasmed rhythmically, expelling her inner juices.

Pam hung for a moment, every nerve and muscle straining, and then collapsed back into the water--limp--her orgasm over. Nervously her hands fell away from her body, trying to prop herself up, but for a few seconds she was too stunned to move.

My God! she thought, I never knew it could be like that!

It wasn't until she tried to stand up in the tub that Pam remembered that the soap stick was still embedded in her cunt. Blushing with embarrassment, she slowly drew it out, feeling her vagina contract in one last gentle spasm as the long slender instrument slid tantalizingly over its tender inner surface. Now that it was over, Pam was ashamed of what she had done, imagining how she would have looked to someone else, lost in her shameless passion as she rammed an unfeeling length of slippery soap in and out of her own vagina.

But, God, it felt good! she thought, and wondered what it was that kept her from feeling that way with Jack. She knew that that was what he expected, but when she tried to visualize herself, abandoned to such ultimate passion at the hands of her husband, or of anyone else, she felt a familiar queasiness in the pit of her stomach. No, this had worked out so well today because she was alone. She'd never be able to let another person see her display such shameless passion. It just didn't seem right. Why couldn't Jack accept her the way she was, Pam thought unhappily as she slowly toweled herself dry, careful to keep her hands away from her satiated genitals.

Jack's temper was still smoldering when he reached the office, but he reined it in sharply as soon as he went in the door. Don't want to make a bad impression, he thought, instantly on his guard as he always was, here in the battleground. He smiled at the receptionist, smiled at his secretary, and even smiled at Harry Steers, whom he hated and feared.

Harry was his main competition for the promotion to vice-president.

Ducking into his private office he sat at his desk and tried to get his thoughts under control.

What the hell's the matter with that girl? he thought. With resentment he remembered how she had pushed him away in the morning, and called him disgusting. He doubted that Anna Collins would think him disgusting if he ate her pussy. She looked like she was ready for anything.

Anna! he thought excitedly. Maybe she'll come in looking for work today! How easy it was to forget his troubles with Pam by thinking about Anna. He was sure from the way she had looked at him last night that she was available. And he wanted her! Jack spent several seconds imagining what it would be like to make love to Anna, and what she would look like naked, sprawled out on a bed, her legs spread invitingly open, waiting for him…

But what about Pam? Pam was still his wife. When Jack had first decided to marry her, back in college, he'd done so for many reasons. She was beautiful, of course, and they loved one another, whatever that was, but most of all, Jack had seen Pam as an investment, a necessary adjunct to further his career. With her looks and her good breeding and her quiet manner, she would be just the kind of wife that would impress both employers and clients. She had seemed docile enough so that he would never have trouble getting her to do what he wanted, or so it seemed then. For the past several months she had been displaying an irritating independence that Jack interpreted as obstructionism. And now, this miserable sex mess!

Jack was angry at himself that he should be bothered by Pam's inability to respond adequately to his sexual desires. He should be above that kind of thing, he thought, but there it was. Every time he saw her marvelous naked body, something seemed to snap in him and he wanted to possess her, dominate her, wallow in her lovely nude flesh!

It irritated Jack to admit he was human, but there was no use in denying his need for sex. Still, if the situation with Pam didn't improve, their marriage might be in trouble, and that would be a disaster. J.B. didn't approve of divorce, and if he and Pam split up, he could kiss the vice-presidency good-bye. And Pam, too. She mattered to him, as much as anyone could.

Bat maybe there's a way out, he mused. Anna Collins! If he were to have an affair with her, then maybe everything would be all right. With Anna to satisfy his sexual needs, not only would he feel less tense, but the pressure would be off Pam, too… as long as she never found out.

Automatically Jack began to wonder how much Anna would cost. To him, everything and everyone had its price, and he preferred it that way. If you paid, then you had control over what you were getting, and Jack always felt helpless unless he had control. Anna might cost money or she might cost other things--less tangible--such as demanding affection or too much of his valuable time. Jack hoped she would opt for money. Or maybe she'd even settle for his getting her a job!

Jack was in a much better mood by the time he came out of his office.

He walked into the outer office carrying some papers. He had no idea what was on them, but it was one of his rules to always have something in his hand around the office, then, no matter whether he was fucking off or not, it at least looked like he was doing something. Jack was a master of office guerrilla warfare, which had been the main reason for his rapid advancement.

Jack had come out of his office for a reason. It was eight-thirty, and every day, exactly at eight-thirty, J.B., the boss, came in the front door. Jack liked to be the first one to greet him. As usual, he was exactly on time, a little man, in his late-sixties, dried up, with a sour, shriveled face. He carried his inevitable brown paper bag, which always contained the same thing--an egg-salad sandwich he'd made himself and a package of potato chips. J.B. was a miser, and never spent a nickel he didn't have to.

Old bastard must be worth at least ten million bucks, Jack thought sarcastically, looking at the paper bag. If I had his money, it'd be caviar and champagne for lunch every day. Aloud he said… "Good morning, J.B., have a good trip in?" J.B. rode the bus. Not bothering to reply to Jack's greeting, the little man immediately launched into a violent attack on the public transportation system, seeming to forget that a few months before he'd just as bitterly used all his considerable influence with local government to help defeat a proposed tax on business to improve the local bus service.

Jack despised].B., but his manner never betrayed it. He was attentive to the little man, flattering him when he thought that that was what he wanted, and on rare occasions disagreeing with him when he suspected that J.B. wasn't too sure about something and wanted his mind changed.

He had come to view Jack as a bright young man of independence and character who shared the right views--his views. Jack felt that as long as he could keep his boss thinking that way, his future in the company was assured, and he spent as much energy researching the little tyrant's moods, prejudices and needs as he spent actually doing his job. It paid off much better than hard work.

"Phone call for you, Mr. Hollister," his secretary said. Jack excused himself and went to answer the phone.

"Hello, Jack," Anna Collins' throaty purr buzzed from the receiver.

Jack felt his blood boil at the way she had said his name. He knew be hadn't been imagining things last night!

"Hi, Anna, what can I do for you?"

"You don't know? Don't tell me you've already forgotten the job you and Max were talking about."

"Of course I remember," Jack responded with a laugh. "But I thought you were going to come to the office."

"I am, but I thought I'd better get an appointment first. Max said you looked like a busy man."

"Not too busy for you, Anna. Why don't you come in, say…" he looked down at his desk calendar to see when he was free, "… about eleven o'clock. Or make it eleven-forty-five, and we can have lunch."

"Fine, I'll be there, but I might as well warn you… I have a big appetite."

"I thought you might," he said, making his voice suggestive. "You strike me as the kind of girl it would take a lot to satisfy.

"Oh, how nice," she said with a sultry laugh. "We've only just met and you're already beginning to understand me."

When Jack put the phone down, he was surprised to find that his hands were wet with perspiration. God, that woman blows my mind… even over the phone! he thought shakily. It all looked like it was going to be easy, maybe too easy. He wasn't used to ripe plums like Anna falling into his lap without a lot of hard scheming and plotting. There was something strange here.

For one thing, what the hell was Max to Anna? Jack hadn't bought that bit about Max being her uncle… no, that was a lie. But why? They were undoubtedly fucking--Jack could tell by the way they looked at one another. Not like lovers, to be sure--there was a lot of bad feeling between the two--but like a man and woman who knew one another's bodies.

Sure, that s it! Jack thought in triumph. The old bastard's keeping her and he can't get it up often enough. She's horny, and she knows where to come to get it! Smugly, Jack settled for his ego-building answer, conveniently forgetting that it was Max who had first asked about the job for Anna.

Jack jittered away the rest of the morning, impatiently waiting for Anna to show up. He knew that at eleven-thirty the boss shut himself up in his office to eat his meager lunch alone. Jack didn't want him to see Anna, not before she was hired. J.B. was, on the surface, a vicious prude. Jack knew he would have to warn Anna about what she could wear in front of the old man. He railed and ranted about the deteriorating morals of the younger generation, and more than one surprised girl had been fired on the spot for coming to work in what J.B. thought was indecorous attire. The same held true for the male employees. Even the slightest suspicion of scandal, and they were out the door. It had been discovered that one compromising young account executive had spent the entire night at a girl's apartment, and he was fired.

But there were other reasons why Jack didn't want the boss to see Anna until he had installed her in a safe niche. Like most other violently vocal pillars of rectitude, J.B. was a hypocrite. He used his fulmination's to cover up, partly to himself, the fact that he was a lecher of the lowest order. His desk drawers bulged with pornographic pictures--Jack had found them one day when the boss was out of the office and had forgotten to lock his door. And it was fairly common knowledge among the higher staff members that the old man regularly used the still-attractive body of Jack Holme's wife. Jack was the senior vice-president, and no one doubted what kept him in that position. If J.B. got a good look at Anna too early in the game, then Jack would be pushed right out of the picture.

But, he thought, if he played his cards right, Anna might be of use to him right there in the office. If she and he got it on, and reached the right kind of understanding, then he wouldn't care if the old man got to her. In fact, Anna might be invaluable to him, bringing him privileged bedroom information, right from the old goat's mouth. He doubted if J.B. could get it up often enough to seriously cut into his time with Anna. And maybe between them, they might get that nasty old fart over a barrel and both make the big time.

I'm counting my chickens a little too early, Jack warned himself. Shit, maybe she does only want a job! But he doubted it. There hadn't been much doubt about her approach to him so far.

At eleven-forty-five, Jack walked out the door and met Anna coming in.

"I'm starved," he said, not giving her a chance to go in. "Let's eat."

He took her to a discrete little restaurant, dimly lit, with secluded booths that made it unlikely that they'd be seen together, not because it was strictly necessary, but because Jack wanted Anna to get into the habit. If everything went well, they'd have a lot of times like this together, and there were people, like Pam and the boss… and that fucking Harry Steers, who must never know. Shit… Harry would run straight to J.B.

The lunch went like a dream. Anna kept her eyes fastened insolently on Jack, and to his chagrin, he began to get an erection as he stared back at her lush dark beauty. He was glad that the restaurant was dark.

How different she is from Pam, he thought excitedly, comparing her smoky, sultry loveliness with his wife's bright golden beauty. What a lucky man, I'd be to be fucking the both of them, he thought in awe.

Too bad I'd never be able to get them in the some bed together. What a circus that would be.

"My department budget permits me to hire another girl," Jack explained to Anna when they had finished eating. "The pay's not the best in the world but then, you won't kill yourself working, either." He let his voice grow more confidential. "And there may be little extras coming your way from time to time… like good dinners, for instance."

For Christ's sake, this guy is incredible! Anna thought in amusement.

He's used to dealing with dumb little blondes right out of high school.

Her earlier interest in Jack began to change into a mild contempt.

She'd met his kind before; cold young men on the way up, engrossed with themselves and their all-important careers, never imagining that there might be other people who couldn't be bought by the cheap trinkets they offered. This boy's a real amateur, she said to herself, but he's got a good body.

Yes, she'd do what Max had ordered her to--she hardly had a choice, anyhow--and she might as well enjoy herself on the road. She'd make sure this young moral zero gave her the kind of fucking she hadn't had for a long time. Anna mentality wrinkled her nose as she thought about the short, sharp, and brutal fuckings she got from Max. He'd been a lot better at first, but was now obviously bored with her. He just used her as an instrument to work off his need to hurt.

Anna liked people but she had no illusions as to the kind of human relations that went on in big business and big government. There was a whole breed of eager young executives who'd walk over their grandmother to gain the power and influence they craved, and she was having lunch with one now. She felt sorry for his wife.

But Anna played her part well. Knowing what she had to do, and hating it, she threw enough half-veiled sex-signals to Jack to rattle him for the rest of the day. Sensing Jack's ever-increasing desire to make love to her, Anna put him off, turning down an invitation to dinner that night. She knew if she played him long enough, he would be eating out of her hand in no time. That might be valuable to her in case of a confrontation with Max. Allies, even allies bought with sex, could sometimes make the difference between defeat and survival.

So Jack went back to the office, faintly uncomfortable, vaguely realizing that somewhere in the course of the meal he'd lost the initiative with Anna. His instincts told him to forget about her, that he was putting himself in the way of a forceful personality he couldn't control, but at the same time, the image of Anna's twin rounded hemispheres of lush breast, spilling out of her low-cut dress, burned in his brain, inflaming his nerves and filling his whole being with lust. He knew she was going to sleep with him--they'd all but arranged it at lunch. Only the place and time remained to be filled in and, by God, he'd do it!

Damn the consequences.

Anna took her time getting home. Max didn't let her out of the house by herself very often, so she amused herself window-shopping and leisurely studying the people on the busy streets.

How different life could be! she thought bitterly as she watched a young woman walking breezily down the street, humming happily to herself, obviously her own mistress, free to go where she wanted to and associate with whom she wished. Anna stopped before a travel office and stared for a long time at the brightly colored posters, advertising trips to the Mediterranean, the Caribbean, Europe, South America. She had traveled when she was younger, just out of school, and had loved it. For more than three years she had lived and worked overseas, immersing herself in alien customs and languages, thrilling to that peculiar type of freedom that comes from being a foreigner in other peoples' lands, free of their native cares and obligations, but able to enjoy the best that land can offer.

God, I'd love to go back! she thought in near despair. But I'm a slave, a slave in late-twentieth-century America, a slave to that miserable bastard, Max Flaherty!

It had happened almost a year ago. She had been to visit her father, and found him in an angry shouting match with a man she had never seen before--Max Flaherty. The man left and the incident had faded from her mind. Then one day Max had showed up at her apartment saying he had a proposition for her. He made it short and simple. He told her he had enough on her father to hang him, not figuratively but literally. He showed her papers and documents that connected her father to an old crime, a murder that had taken place nearly twenty years before. He'd turn her father over to the police, unless…

Ten minutes later, after futilely pleading for him to change his mind and leave her and her father alone, Anna was lying naked under Max's heavy sweating body while he brutally fucked her.

And, of course, it didn't stop with that one time. He came back again and again, and every time that Anna submitted to him, the next time came easier. Finally, he had ordered her to move into a house with him, the one they were living in now. Anna was glad that they were half-way across the country from her own home. She was horrified at the thought of her father finding out she was with Max. She knew he'd demand that she stop it, and even go to the authorities and turn himself in, if that would free her of Max.

Anna loved her father--he was all she'd ever had since her mother died when Anna was still a baby. She never told him she knew about the murder in his past--she knew he would be ashamed before her from then on. So she stayed with Max, putting up with his crudities, letting him use her body as he wanted to, and hoping that somehow the whole nightmare would go away.

Max had money, and she had to admit that for the most part, her life was physically comfortable. And sometimes he was even good to her, in his own way, including her in his brutal sense of humor, treating her as a confidante.

But he had clearly begun to grow tired of her a couple of months before. That was what Anna had hoped for, trusting that he would eventually throw her out, bored with the ease with which he could claim her body and the lack of any genuine participation on her part. But now she was sickened by what he wanted her to do--to use her as an entree into Pam Hollister's bed. Clearly, even if he was bored with her, he wasn't about to let her go. Slaves were hard to come by nowadays, and she knew she'd be used until there was nothing of her left.

Despair had made Anna bitter by the time she walked back in the door of Max's house.

"Where the fuck you been?" he demanded angrily, glancing at his watch.

"I told you, no fucking around with that young punk until I give the word."

"For Christ's sake, get off my back, Max," she snapped back. "We haven't even been holding hands. I'll do your fucking dirty work for you, but I don't want to catch shit for it every ten minutes."

"Well, well, aren't we independent," Max said in mock surprise. "Don't tell me the troops are about to revolt!"

Anna tensed. When Max seemed the most pleasant he was often at his deadliest. "Okay, now what happened? Did you get the job?"

"Of course," Anna said tiredly. "He was too busy staring at my tits to think of saying no."

"I get the impression you don't like him."

"If there was something to like, I might. He's good-looking enough. But there's nothing under that neat, clean exterior but pure greed."

"Good, they're the easiest kind," Max said with a laugh. "And when do you think the mating will take place?"

Anna flinched at the cavalier way that Max was disposing of her body.

Just like a slave, she thought. "He says there's going to be a big company party in about two or three days. That sounds like the best time. People go a little out of their heads at those things."

"You've done a good job, Anna," Max said good-humoredly. "You deserve a reward."

"The only reward I want is a way out of this mess," Anna snapped.

"Maybe you'll get it," Max replied.

"What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly wary.

"If you keep playing ball with me, I might let you go. What would you say to my giving you that evidence I have against dear old Dad?"

"You've said that before," Anna said bitterly. "Are you playing with me again, because if you are…

"You'll never know for sure, will you?" Max said with an evil grin.

"But you can't take the chance. I promise you, some day you'll bore me so much I'll toss all those incriminating documents in your lap, and you can split. You can count on that--you just don't know when. So you keep playing ball with old Max, and everything'll turn out ale right."

Does he mean it? Anna agonized. Is this just another of his sadistic games? Hatred boiled up in Anna's heart. Someday he'll go too far, and then… Some of her hatred spilled over onto her father, and Anna was filled with a bitter resentment that an act of his could have put her in this predicament. Maybe she should face him, have it out, but she was afraid. Afraid of how she would hurt him, and afraid that he might do something desperate to free her that would end up with his own destruction.

"Okay, Max," she said tiredly. "You hold all the cards… for now.

I'll keep dancing to your music."

"Atta girl," Max chortled. "But just to make sure you mean it, I'm gonna test you."

Oh, Christ, now what? Anna thought apprehensively as she watched Max go to the far side of the room and sit in a chair.

"Okay, baby, take off your clothes," Max ordered good-naturedly.

"Don't you have any imagination, Max," Anna asked disgustedly. She began to strip off her dress, trying to put as little seductiveness into it as possible. She'd be damned if she'd give Max any kicks she didn't have to. Her clothes came off easily--she wasn't wearing many.

The light summer dress went first, the one that Jack Hollister had been so eagerly staring down. Underneath it she was wearing only a bra, panties, and long sheer stockings held up by a garter belt. She took off the bra and her large, shapely breasts swung free, the nipples hardening slightly as soon as the cooler air touched them. To her disgust she saw that Max was massaging his big cock into hardness through the material of his pants while lecherously watching her undress. She was bending down to take off her garter belt when he stopped her.

"No, leave it on," he ordered. "Just unhook it so you can take off your panties, and then snap it back up again." Anna hesitated, and then shrugged. Well, it takes all kinds, she thought. She did as he asked, and a few moments later was standing dressed only in her garter belt and stockings. Her curly brown pubic hair showed obscenely underneath the elastic and straps of the garter belt, and she felt more naked than if she'd taken everything off.

"Mmmmm, mmmmm, downright nice," Max murmured. Anna could see that his awakening penis had formed a huge bulge in his pants. Max saw where she was looking and smiled. "Glad you noticed that, Anna, because you're gonna suck it off."

Anna flinched when she heard this. She'd sucked cock lots of times in her experience-packed life, and loved it--anybody but Max's. She loathed the ultimate humiliation of having her hated tormentor shoot his searing hot load of sperm into her mouth.

But what choice did she have? Like he said, if she were nice to him, maybe he'd give her back those documents. She started to walk across the room to get it over with.

"Hold it!" Max said sharply. She stopped, confused.

"I want you to crawl over to me… on your hands and knees," he said with a sneer.

"Max, you can go fuck yourself," she snapped back.

"SHADDUP!" he roared suddenly. "That's just the attitude we have to do something about. Now, you gave me a lot of lip last night, and a lot of lip when you came home this afternoon. We gotta purge that fucking pride out of you… give you a dose of Christian humility. So, down on your knees… NOW… and get your ass over here!"

Anna hesitated, hating him, but then sullenly knelt down and started to walk over to Max on her knees.

"No!" he ordered. "Crawl!"

Getting down on all fours, Anna crawled over to Max, stopping when her head was even with his knees. He parted them into a big vee.

"Right up to my cock," he ordered.

She moved in between his knees until her face was only inches away from the awesome bulge in his pants.

"Okay, wise-ass cunt. Unzip my pants and fish it out.

Her cheeks burning with shame and rage, Anna raised one hand and quickly opened Max's fly. Reaching in, she fumbled through his shorts until her hand made contact with his naked cock beneath. My God, it's hot! she thought as she began to tug it out through the narrow opening in his pants.

"Ow, take it easy!" Max growled. "You're gonna bust the damn thing in two." A moment later his huge organ had burst free of the confining material and lay in her hand, thrusting obscenely up from his loins, surrounded by a frieze of his bristling pubic hair.

"Pump on it awhile," he said, his voice suddenly hoarse now that her hand was wrapped around his eagerly throbbing organ. Anna began to slide the heavy outer skin up and down the iron-hard core, with little interest at first, but then more and more quickly as she saw his disapproving look.

"Oh, Christ!" he moaned. "I feel like I'm gonna pop my nuts already.

Slow down for a minute."

Anna bit her lips in irritation. Too bad the big pig hadn't shot off in her hand. It was a lot better than in her mouth. He was close. His mammoth rod throbbed hotly against her palm, and a single shining drop of sperm glistened at the swollen tip. Max saw it, too.

"Lick it off," he ordered gleefully. "Wipe me clean with your tongue."

Distastefully, Anna leaned forward and slithered her tongue across the empurpled tip of Max's cock. Instantly her senses were flooded with the salty tang of hot sperm. Seeing that Max was relaxed, enjoying her debasement, she suddenly shot out her tongue again and stabbed it sharply into the tender little opening on the end, trying to make him cum.

"Aaaaggghhh," Max moaned loudly, at the same time violently pushing her away from his twitching organ. "I said take it easy for a minute!" he yelled.

"Just trying to make it good for you, boss," she said sweetly, a hard glitter in her eyes. It took Max a moment to get himself back under control.

"Okay, baby, it's ready. Take it in your mouth and suck it!" He leaned back in the chair, his huge fleshy stalk standing above his body like an evil weed.

Steeling herself, Anna leaned her head forward and placed her mouth on the great organ. God, I forgot how big the damn thing is, she thought in consternation. How will I get it all in my mouth? She opened her lips as wide as she could, stretching them painfully as she slipped them over the huge mushroom-shaped head. She began to suck immediately, to take her mind off the obscene picture she must make with this monstrous male penis jutting disgustingly from her face.

"Oh, baby, you're getting the idea, but put the whole thing in your mouth, not just the tip!" To illustrate his point, Max reached forward and, tangling his hands in her thick dark hair, pulled her head downward while at the same time he thrust his loins up hard, ramming his thick stalk brutally into her surprised face.

Anna started to gag as she felt the end of Max's swollen organ invade the back of her oral cavity. She struggled for control, afraid that she might strangle, and found to her relief that she could take the whole hot throbbing cock into her mouth if she half-swallowed it.

"Okay, baby, now suck it as if your life depended on it," Max said.

Still holding her by the hair, he began to force her mouth up and down on his meaty shaft while he fucked his hairy loins up into her face.

And Anna began to suck in earnest, wanting to get it over with, wanting to make this disgusting man cum, even if it was into her own mouth. Her well-trained throat muscles took over, opening to admit Max's thrusting penis in to the hilt, and then closing behind it as her tongue locked avidly around the slithering shaft. She forgot for the moment who it was below her, forcing her into this humiliating and degrading act, and did her best to bring the hot sperm boiling up from the hairy balls still hidden inside his pants.

Max looked down in delight as Anna slaved over his sensation-filled cock. Her heavy dark hair fell forward around her lovely face so that at times all he could see was the white shaft of his aching cock disappearing into a shining brown nimbus. He jerked her hair back, wanting to see the expression on her face, delightedly searching for the signs of hate and rebellion he loved to see there. But her face was blank, without feeling. Her eyes stared glassily down the length of his throbbing fleshy staff, and her cheeks hollowed and filled mechanically as she sucked. With a snarl, Max rammed Anna's beautiful head down on his cock, wanting to hurt her, but she took it easily, used to his enormous presence in her mouth by now.

"Okay, bitch, suck harder," he snarled, trying to bait her with his words. "Who taught you to suck cock, your grandmother? Put some soul into it!" He let go of her hair with one hand and, reaching down beneath her naked kneeling body, seized one of her lush, magnificent breasts in his fingers, mauling it cruelly. Anna automatically twisted away from the pain, but she kept on sucking, harder and harder, knowing that it would be over in a moment. Already she could feel Max's cock swelling larger and larger in her mouth as his orgasm neared.

To make him cum faster, she reached inside his pants and, cradling his drum-tight balls in her hand, began to squeeze them rhythmically, at the same time dragging her nails tantalizingly lower down, near his tightly clenched anus.

That did it! "OH, YOU FUCKING BITCH… I'M GUMMING!" he bellowed.

"SUCK EVERY LAST DROP DOWN INTO YOUR BELLY, OR SO HELP ME…" His voice shut off in a strangled cry as the first hot rush of semen burned its way up from his testicles below, and shot the entire shuddering length of his monstrously swollen penis. His head fell back helplessly and his fingers went rigid in Anna's hair, clamping her head tightly to his spouting loins.

Anna felt Max's ready organ begin jerking in her avidly sucking mouth and barely had time to prepare herself before the first choking rush of sperm gushed into her straining mouth. She swallowed madly, trying to clear her throat of the sticky hot liquid before she choked, but there was too much. A thick stream of it gushed obscenely out from where her tightly ovaled lips were locked around the thick hair-strewn base of the twitching member. With loathing she felt the slippery spicy fluid sliding down her throat and into her stomach, but there was nothing else she could do. Max's powerful hands in her hair held her imprisoned, and it was either swallow or strangle.

Finally the last few jets of cum had spouted from Max's hard hot organ and it was beginning to shrink in her mouth. He made no resistance when she drew hack her head and the rapidly diminishing cock slithered wetly from her cum-smeared lips and flopped soddenly onto his pants leg. Anna knelt, trying to get her breath, a long string of milky-white cum dangling from her chin. Seeing Max leering at her, she quickly brushed it away, and then, with a look of revulsion, got quickly to her feet and started toward the bathroom.

"Hey, cunt, I want you to crawl out of here on your hands and knees!"

Max crowed after her. "Like the bitch you are!"

"Go fuck yourself," she muttered, the words coming thickly from her semen-clogged throat.