"The Violated Virgin" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fulton Ward)

Chapter 3

Slowly Suzanne opened her eyes and gazed around her bedroom. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. The early morning light filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow around her. For a split second she began to smile, looking forward to another day; then the memory of the experiences with Donald and Ted came flooding back, swamping out the happy anticipation and replacing it with a tide of renewed horror.

With great care, she lowered her hands to her crotch and felt her mound, probing inside with her fingers where the still-tender folds of flesh told her it had not been a dream. Her finger touched her clitoris, and a hot sea of sensuality swept over her, reminding her of Ted's penis as it penetrated her. She touched her clitoris again, and once more the feeling gushed through her loins. She really wasn't hurt, she told herself.

With a sigh, she relaxed, letting her fingers coax her sexuality into a rising wave of ecstasy. Slowly she gripped the shaft of her clitoris, massaging the end with her fingers while her passions rose, and she began moving her hips slowly, her mind filled with the memory of Ted's swollen organ plunging in and out of her vagina.

With her other hand she caressed her stomach, sliding up to her breasts and tweaking the nipples gently, bringing them to a state of erection, their hard little nubs so sensitive as her fingers brushed over them.

She drew saliva from her mouth and rubbed around her nipples, making them slick and reminding her of the hungry mouth that had enclosed them and the ravenous tongue that flicked back and forth, exciting her beyond words.

In her mind she recalled the heavy breathing, the excited hiss of his words as he muttered obscene comments on their union, and with each "Fuck me, fuck me," she found her loins quivering with additional eroticism as her finger rubbed quicker and quicker around her clitoris.

Her hips were moving faster now up and down, just the way they had when she finally began getting with it and knew that Ted's massive phallus was the first thing that had really brought her knowledge of true satisfaction, a mind-blasting experience that shattered all her previous ideas of ultimate ecstasy. Yes, she thought, it is good, this is what I've always wanted; I've wanted to be taken, to be ravished, to feel a man on top of me, doing whatever he wanted with my body, giving himself all the sensations he could get from her hot, snapping cunt that clung greedily around that magnificent shaft as it slid into her, fitting so perfectly all the way into her vagina, its flat, wide head titillating the opening of her womb.

Her fingers pinched harder at her nipples, and her fingers pushed deeper into her canal, and in her mind it was Ted's organ there, propelling her faster and faster towards her own climax. She felt her insides begin to convulse, and her body was no longer heaving but trembling, shaking from head to toe, and she stifled the urge to scream out at the top of her voice, "Fuck me, you big-cocked stud, give it all to me, every goddamn inch of that big thick wonderful thing, jam it right up my cunt as far as you can and shoot your jism into me!"

She saw Ted's face above hers, and heard once more the giggling of his brother, his face glued between her legs, watching every movement while his hand manipulated his own throbbing cock. She could almost swear she could smell his earthy, male odor around her, filling her nostrils with extra stimulation. Then she felt her vagina quiver with its final orgasm, and her finger seized her clitoris as her other hand squeezed her breast and she felt her juices flowing and she cried out softly, moaning and twisting on the bed as she felt herself being lifted high up on a cloud of heavenly ecstasy. Then, just as she felt she had reached the peak of her climax, she heard a voice, "Suzanne… please … please…" and in her mind she saw the outline of a penis in the dim moonlight, and it was Sam's voice ringing in her brain. Her mouth opened and she screamed out, "Sam… Sam." Then all images disappeared from her imagination, and she opened her eyes to see the sun streaming through the venetian blinds, striping the carpet with a bright glare.

She withdrew her hand from beneath the sheet and stared at her fingers, still slick with the juices from her vagina. With a shudder she threw back the covers and walked quickly to the bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping into the stinging spray even before it had warmed up. She closed her eyes and stood, her skin flinching beneath the chilly stream, and only opened her eyes again as the warm water began.

In the distance she heard the clatter of heels on the stairs, and from below on the street the scream of tires mingled with the blast from a car horn. As she stepped out of the shower and began toweling herself, she bit her lip and once again pictured Sam's face before her. "Oh, Sam," she whispered, "Where are you, where are you?"

Suzanne found it difficult to concentrate on her classes that day.

Mechanically she went through the motions of greeting her friends, of taking notes, of listening to her instructors, and eating a steerburger and a Coke at Verne's for lunch. Yvonne was in the bar, playing pool with Jeff, a young medical student whose youth and virile appeal had given him quite a reputation around town as being a ladies' man.

Suzanne watched them both as they pranced around the pool table, Jeff exhibiting a boyish enthusiasm for his prowess and Yvonne doing her best Bette Davis impersonation as she studied each shot before lowering her practiced eye to the pool cue and sent the ball lazily across the green felt. Suzanne watched, thinking how their way of playing matched their personalities. Jeff took a few seconds to decide, then shot fast and hard, and usually made the pocket he aimed for; he probably picked his sleeping partners the same way, Suzanne thought. Yvonne took her time, considered all the angles, and then played slow and safe, her ball usually trickling across the table and dropping in the pocket almost as its momentum ran out. But then Yvonne was probably quite a bit older than Jeff; or would it be better to say Jeff was quite a bit younger than Yvonne? What difference did it make? It's not the age of your men, Yvonne had said once, but how well they can age you. Suzanne wondered how many years Jeff had put on Yvonne since they had met. She knew they had been going together, at least that's what the campus gossip had said. But then Jeff went with just about anyone; rumor had it he had donated his penis to the Smithsonian Institute upon his death to be enshrined as a national monument. After all, there were still quite a number who hadn't seen it, let alone had the pleasure of its company. Penis… cock… Suzanne shook her head and tried to finish her steerburger, but found herself chewing without enjoyment; tasting without taste. She pushed the plate away in disgust, staring at the meat between the bun and again remembering another piece of meat she had chewed on, a hard, throbbing member with a broad flat head, and again Ted's obscene words rang in her ears.

Yvonne's husky guffaw echoed through the bar, and Jeff threw the pool cue on the floor. His explosive "Shit!" caused several customers to turn, look and grin. The regulars at Verne's were well used to Yvonne's prowess at the pool table; her feigned concentration and naive approach concealed a pool shark from way back. She picked up her glass of beer and sashayed up to Suzanne.

"Well, darling, did you see, did you see?" she gloated, and then as Jeff walked up behind her, his handsome face frowning, she added,

"You're really not mad at me, are you, baby?"

Jeff grinned at Suzanne, and slumped into a chair, sucking his teeth.

"Mad? At you?" He grunted, and winked at Suzanne. "It'll take more than a pool game to get me mad."

Yvonne laughed loudly again, drained her glass, and rummaged in her oversized purse for a cigarette.

"Well, you two be good," she said. "I have to run. See you later."

Suzanne sat, toying with her glass of Coke, conscious that Jeff's eyes were fastened on her. Finally she looked at him almost defiantly.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" he countered.

"I know you've been staring at me."

"Sure. I always stare at groovy chicks."

Suzanne flushed.

"I am not a groovy chick," she snapped, sorry for her words the moment she uttered them; she knew she sounded pompous and puritanical.

Jeff laughed and stood up.

"You said it," he murmured, and wandered off back into the pool table area of the bar.

Suzanne bit her lip and wanted to burst into tears. She knew how idiotic she must have sounded; but she couldn't help it. She was conscious of his sexuality across the table; she was aware of his reputation, and something in her responded. She knew that she wanted him, she wanted to find out if those rumors about his penis size were true, she wanted him to fuck her. Fuck… Fuck… yes, she wanted that. She wanted him to…

With a toss of her head, she rose and made her way quickly out of the bar, knowing that if she stayed she might either burst into tears or spend the afternoon, get drunk and go home with Jeff and…

Her mind was a mixture of frustration and self-loathing as she walked up Woodward Avenue and turned down Forest Avenue to the campus, suddenly realizing that unless she hurried she would be late for her sociology class. Damn. What was wrong with her today? She knew what was wrong, and the slight tenderness in her crotch reminded her with every step she took. Oh, God, what if those little bastards came back?

She sat through class hardly hearing a word, her mind filled with the memory of the night before. Ted's words again rang in her ears: "You're a good lay. Good enough for a second helping." Did he mean that, or was he just trying to scare her? She finally decided he was only trying to frighten her enough to keep her mouth shut; obviously they wouldn't be back. It had been one of those rare opportunities, and even they would realize that she wouldn't even open the door to them again. So it was just an experience; and even though her ravenous mounting sexuality kept hinting that it had been wonderful, that she had felt it was something she would want again and again, she deeply regretted that it hadn't been Sam who bad been the first. She had always wanted to go to her marriage bed a virgin; now it was impossible. She'd have to make up some story for Sam; maybe she could tell him she'd done a lot of horseback riding and broken her hymen that way. Or maybe at gym class, or riding a bicycle. No, he'd never believe that. Or would he? She knew Sam loved her; at least, she felt he did. Oh, please, let him love me.

I need him so much. Sam… Sam…

"Suzanne, is something wrong?"

She looked up to see her instructor standing next to her, a look of concern on his kindly face. She started, and then realized the class was empty, and she had been sitting there, tears streaming down her face, unaware that the others had left. Embarrassedly she wiped her cheeks, tried to smile, and stumbled to her feet.

"No, no, nothing," she said quietly. "I'm all right. Honest. I was just …" She paused, and then fled from the room.

She hurried back to the apartment, and climbed the stairs with her pulse racing. She knew Donald and Ted would be waiting outside her door; she knew it. She stared as she turned the top of the stairs and saw the empty hallway. With a sigh of relief, she unlocked the door, entered, and locked it behind her; then she collapsed into a chair and sobbed for ten minutes.

She finally composed herself, went to the bathroom and washed her face.

She stared at herself in the mirror and tried to smile. She was being ridiculous, she knew; nothing could change what had happened, and she was just thankful that she had not suffered any grievous harm. She remembered reading of rape cases where the woman was beaten, her face scarred and her body slashed; at least all they did was have their way sexually, and looking back, she knew it hadn't been as bad as she had thought at the time. She knew she had enjoyed it, really and truly enjoyed the act; but then she knew that was only normal. After all, what girl wouldn't enjoy having intercourse with a young man as well endowed as Ted? Any young man, for that matter.

She patted her face dry, put on some lipstick, combed her hair, and decided that she was feeling much better. She went into the living room, got out her notes, and began studying.

She had her writings about the family she had been studying, Donald's family, Ted's family; oh, God, how could she possibly continue on that subject? Every time she thought about it, she would remember. Maybe the best thing would be to destroy that project and start another. There were plenty of families in the area that she could investigate without being plagued with unpleasant memories.

She was just about to rip the pages into pieces and put them in the wastebasket when she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and her heart jumped. She knew those footsteps; they had the youthful ring of a young boy, and she knew it could only be Donald. Petrified, she froze at the desk, waiting.

The footsteps grew louder, and then stopped outside her door. A second later, the gentle knock sounded like a thunderclap to her ears. She dropped her pencil and whirled around in her chair, facing the door.

Her heart was beating unnaturally loud, and her hands began to tremble.

She knew if she remained quiet, he would probably go away; but what if he had been watching the building and had seen her come in? What if he knew she was there? He might continue banging on her door and there might be a scene, and he might say something which… Oh, God.

"Who is it?" Her voice was nervous and quavering.

There was a second of silence, and then she heard Donald's voice.

"It's me, Donald. I want to talk to you."

"Go away."

"Please, Suzanne. I have to talk to you. It's important."

What on earth could there be so important to this boy? She knew it was a trick to get her to open the door.

"Donald, you go away and leave me alone or I'll call the police."

She heard him laugh softly.

"You wouldn't do that; you know that. Come on, I mean it, Suzanne. I got something to tell you."

She rose from the desk and walked over to the door, pausing a moment, her handle on the knob. She could hear his heavy breathing on the other side.

"What is it? You can tell me from there."

"No, I want to come in and talk to you. I want to tell you how sorry I am about what happened."

There was a note of contrition in his voice, and she pictured his fresh, youthful face, his large innocent eyes. Maybe he did want to talk; maybe he was sorry.

"All right, Donald, but if there's any trouble, I'm going to call the police. I mean it."

There was a click as she unlocked the door, turned the handle and pulled. Donald was standing outside, and as their eyes met, she saw that he must be sorry; there was an expression of abject sorrow on his young face.

"Come in."

Slowly he walked in; she shut the door, and stood staring at him, somewhat defiantly. He shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly, and grinned at her.

"Well, what do you want to talk about, Donald?"

He moved over to the couch and looked at her.

"You mind if I sit down?"

She shook her head and walked over to the large chair and slowly sat down, staring at him curiously.

"I want to say I'm sorry about yesterday," Donald began, looking down at the floor, and playing with his hands. "It was Ted, you know that, don't you? He's a real horny one, and once he gets going, nothing stops him."

Suzanne sniffed. "Obviously you've been with him before when he's…"

She paused, not wanting to say the words.

He nodded. "Sure. We've screwed girls together before, but he always starts it. He's been around longer'n I have, and I really don't think about it as much as he does. He told me that's all he likes to do: fuck girls. I guess he does it every day."

"And what about you?"

Donald grinned. "I do it now and then, when I can."

"When you can," Suzanne repeated the words, her voice dripping sarcasm.

"Why don't you admit you screw around just as much as your brother?

I've heard stories, and I think they're true. All you kids in this neighborhood do is screw. No wonder there are so many little bastards running around."

She amazed herself at the venom in her voice. But she felt if she showed him she was still angry, he might not try anything; or did she really want him to try something again?

Donald looked up at her and smiled.

"I know you're mad, and I don't blame you. But I did want you to know I still like you a lot, and I'm sorry. Can we still be friends? Can I still come up and help you sometimes?"

Suzanne's eyes widened.

"Still be friends? What do you mean? You're goddamn lucky I haven't called the police and had you and you brother thrown in jail. No, Donald, I think you'd better leave now, and don't bother to come back."

Donald's eyebrows rose slightly, and his mouth curled into a sneer.

"Don't be that way, Suzanne. I said I was sorry."

"Well, saying you're sorry doesn't help any. And I know if you keep coming around, maybe your brother will, too, and then…" Suzanne's words trailed off, and she became conscious of Donald's gaze, shifting from her face down to her breasts and over her body. She could sense the aura of desire in his manner, and she recognized the look on his face. "Donald, I mean it. I want you to go now."

His eyes came back and fastened on hers, very steadily. It was a most mature look for a young boy, and a very knowing look.

"You don't want me to go, you know that, Suzanne. And I don't want to.

I want to stay here with you." He rose quickly and came across, kneeling in front of her, and staring up at her earnestly. "Please, Suzanne, I like you a lot, I really do. I don't want you to think I'm real bad or anything." He put out his hand and touched hers.

Suzanne felt a prickle of apprehension, but at the same time she felt a demanding warmth flood her groin. The boy's closeness, his sexuality, his earnestness, all combined to arouse her and bring back the memory of the day before, not with shame or fear, but with perverse desire.

She remembered his penis, jutting out from his pants, almost as large as his brother's.

"Donald." Her voice was weak, and she began trembling. "Donald, please go. Now."

His hand gripped hers more strongly, and his other hand came up on her knee.

"Suzanne, I don't want to go. Please let me stay here."

With a sudden movement, he raised up, brought his head forward, and kissed her on the lips before she could move away. The softness of his skin against hers, his male animal smell, his forceful approach, all this and much more swept the final vestige of resistance away. She didn't have to say anything; the boy knew.

Still on his knees, he put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her to him, embracing her and kissing her passionately, his tongue forcing itself between her lips. She felt the sensuous warmth of his chest against her breasts and his hands gripping her tightly. His mouth rubbed back and forth over her own, and she felt her passions rising to fever pitch. Desperately, she broke away.

"No, Donald, no. This is ridiculous."

He looked at her for a moment, his mouth quivering.

"Ridiculous? Ain't nothin' ridiculous about me wanting you. I want some of the same stuff Ted got yesterday." His eyes flamed, and he bent his head down to hers, forcing his mouth against her lips and pushing her head back violently while his hands held her tightly. Suzanne felt a wave of nausea rise, to be quickly replaced by her bubbling desire, the slow surge of wetness in her vagina and the trembling in her loins. Oh, God, it was going to happen again; she mustn't let it. She mustn't. But stronger than that, her sexuality screamed out: Yes, yes, I want it, I want this boy with his strong, pulsating cock pushed right up into me.

I want it.

Desperately she beat on his back with her fists, and then realized how strong he was. His muscular arms held her firmly, and his chest was pushing against her breasts, rubbing her nipples into hardness. Finally he released her and stared into her eyes with a mixture of warmth and defiance.

"Okay, who's kidding who?" he said softly, taking her hand and pulling it down to his crotch where his rising hardness told her he was almost ready; and within her heart, she knew she was never more ready.

His fingers caressed her breast, and she sat immobile, hardly believing what was happening, and numbly aware that her own desires were screaming out for the same thing he was after.

"You gonna get undressed so we can do it proper?"

The impact of his words brought her plummeting back to reality. She stared at him for a second, and then quickly pushed him backwards and rose to her feet, making a rush for the front door. Her hand was on the handle when she felt his fingers close around her ankle and jerk her backwards viciously. She tripped and fell, breaking her fall with her arm. A stab of pain shot through her, and she whimpered.

He was on top of her in a flash, and his weight pinned her down. His mouth began biting her neck and her ears while his hips ground his hardening sex into her. Through their clothes she could feel its demanding pressure against her vulva.

"Donald, please, please, oh, God, no, not again."

He laughed softly and then rolled off her, staring into her eyes with an expression which she took to be a marginal glimmer of tenderness.

"You know you want it, baby, just like I do. Quit horsing around. We don't have time for all that shit."

"What do you mean, we don't have time?"

There was something in his tone that made her instantly suspicious.

"We don't have time. I have to get home."

"Well, go, then. Go now, and leave me alone."

His hand shot out and slid up the inside of her thigh, and his fingers poked through her underwear into her canal. Electric tingles suffused her body, and she shuddered.

The next moment, his hands had seized her panties, and with a strong tug he had pulled them down from her waist, and she felt the air fan against her naked crotch. His other hand fumbled with his fly, and the noise of his zipper sounded like trumpets of doom. As if in a nightmare, Suzanne watched as his sex sprang out of his pants, thick, throbbing and ready for action.

"Okay, baby, spread those legs. I'm coming in."

His weight pinned her to the floor, and she gasped as his chest pressed hard against her breasts, and she felt the warm rod of his organ push between her legs, sliding up towards its goal.

Her arms tried to beat against him, but the rising strength of her own desires sapped her energy. Helplessly she relaxed as she felt the end of his penis touch her, penetrate and then slide all the way into her vagina. He sucked his breath in and moaned.

"Oooh, good pussy," he said softly. "Now start gettin' with it, bitch.

You're gonna fuck."

He began moving his hips, driving his organ in and out of her violently, and with each thrust she felt her clitoris tingle and her loins respond. Almost automatically she began undulating her hips, gripping his shaft as it entered her, feeling its thickness send chills of delight all the way through her body. As his broad head hit bottom, she felt it at the opening to her womb. He fit absolutely perfectly; they blended their bodies and everything was right.

"Yes, yes," Suzanne heard herself crying out, "yes, give it to me; give me all you've got, you wonderful sexy boy. Fuck me. Fuck me."

Her hands clawed at his back, tearing at his thin shirt and leaving trails across his white skin. His mouth was chewing at her neck, his tongue licking across her, sending more erotic thrills through her.

Hardly conscious of what she was doing, she undid her blouse and pulled her bra down, letting her breasts flop out.

"Suck them, suck them," she moaned. "Bite them."

Donald needed no urging. His rough sexuality guided him. His teeth closed around the end of one nipple, biting, and Suzanne felt the stab of pain blended with exquisite pleasure.

"More, more," she cried out, and she heard a suppressed giggle from him as he responded. Vaguely she heard the tearing of cloth, and then looked down to see that his hands had ripped off her blouse, her bra, her skirt. The thin material had given way beneath his muscular arms, and she was lying naked under him, her breasts flopping from side to side with each movement of her body, and her crotch pinned by his penis, thrusting in and out with sublime regularity. She stared down.

He had raised himself up on his arms, and was looking at his penis as it entered and withdrew. It was a beautiful organ, she thought; not as thick as Ted's, but prettier. It was smooth and white, without any veins, just a solid shaft that was slick and erotic looking, sliding in and out of her oozing, slippery cunt. For a split second, she realized that she had more hair in her bush than he had around his organ. Oh, the infinite appeal of that young, lithe body with its large cock fucking her!

"More, more," she cried out, lifting her legs and wrapping them around his waist, allowing him deeper penetration. His forehead was beaded with sweat, and she noticed his male musky odor had grown stronger. She made a passing mental note to record in her research that the poorer classes do not use deodorants. So much the better, she thought evilly; that smell excited her to an even greater degree. She felt she was being ravished by some animal, a primitive male, without regard for anything but the sex.

"Fuck, fuck," she whispered, almost to herself, and Donald grunted in response as he continued sucking and chewing on her breasts, his body once more lying atop her own, their hips moving together in sensuous rhythm, each gaining the most from the act.

Suzanne felt her vagina tingling, heating up; she felt hotter than she had ever felt before, and deep within her she felt the rise of her final massive convulsion that told her she was about to experience her first climax. Her hands clawed his back with greater intensity, and she began moaning loudly.

Then with a flash of light in her eyes she tightened around his shaft, gripping it within her. He groaned and wriggled, and then she felt his prick expand, and within the warm rush of his seed blended with her own juices.

"Jeez, I'm there, I'm there," he cried out.

"Come, come."

Her body seemed to lift off the floor; she was no longer aware of the hard surface that had been rubbing against her back. She was no longer conscious of where she was, what was happening. She only knew the consummate ecstasy that spread through every part of her body, her own orgasm blending with that of the boy whose hard spurting prick inside her was giving him the same ultimate thrill that she experienced.

Slowly their bodies subsided, and they lay together on the floor.

Donald's hands were stroking her hair, and she could feel his cock slowly getting soft and slipping out of her. She stared at him, and he smiled at her warmly.

"That was the best I've ever had," he murmured, all the roughness, violence and antagonism gone from his voice. He sounded like a small boy who had just been given some candy.

Suzanne rolled over on her stomach and slowly got to her feet, her torn clothes hanging down forlornly. With an impatient gesture, she pulled them off and stood naked. Donald's eyes ran over her appreciatively.

"You've got a groovy body," he commented.

"Thanks," she said briefly, and walked into the bathroom, reaching behind the door for her robe. She saw her reflection in the mirror and paused a moment; then she realized she wanted to urinate, and closed the door and sat down on the commode. A few minutes later, she flushed the toilet, tied the robe around her and opened the bathroom door.

"Donald…" she began, and then her blood froze as she saw Donald sitting in the chair, and opposite him on the couch, Ted, grinning from ear to ear, sitting beside a young Negro boy.

"Well, well, looks like you're all ready for action," said Ted. "Come here, Suzanne, I want you to meet a friend of mine. Clayton, say hello to the best goddamn lay in town."

The Negro youth grinned, revealing a set of beautiful teeth.

"Hi," he said, his voice deep and rich, sounding more like a mature man than the eighteen-year-old he obviously was.

Suzanne stared at Donald, and her eyes were icy.

"Donald…" she began, but he cut her short.

"I didn't know they were coming, Suzanne, honest," he said, and she knew he wasn't lying.

"What's the difference? We're here," said Ted, rising and walking towards her. She took a step back into the bathroom and slammed the door, but not quick enough. Ted's foot shot out and he pushed the door back, grabbing Suzanne's arm, pulling her out into the living room. Her robe gaped open, and Clayton gave a low whistle.

"Now that's what I call eatin' stuff," he muttered. "Come over here, baby."

Ted pushed her forward, and she whirled on him.

"If you don't leave right now, I'm going to scream," she said, her voice rising shakily.

"You know you won't," said Ted lazily. "What's it gonna look like with three of us up here? And if the cops come, I'll say you asked us up for a blowjob at a buck apiece."

Suzanne laughed contemptuously. "Try it," she said defiantly. "Any cop'd know I wouldn't ask a colored boy up to my apartment."

Clayton's face broke into a knowing grin.

"Well, well, we got a Grosse Pointe bigot here," he drawled.

"Whatsamatter with colored folk? You afraid it'll rub off? It doesn't, I promise you. You'll be just as clean afterwards as before, but maybe not so pure."

He laughed coarsely and bounded across the room, seizing her by the arm and pulling her body to his. She only realized then how tall he was, and how powerful. His arms closed around her, and she felt his wide, thick lips close around her mouth, and her stomach heaved. She was conscious of his odor, the same masculine smell that she found stimulating on Ted and Donald, but more intense, more musky. Her head reeled, and she struggled ineffectually. His hands tore at her robe, and she felt it slip off her shoulder and then fall away. His lips slipped down to her shoulder and licked her passionately, while his hands searched for her breasts and clung. She whimpered and thought she was going to faint. That was it! Her mind suddenly grasped at straws.

If she fainted, they'd probably get seared and leave.

Suzanne let her body go limp, a dead weight, and she felt his frame stiffen as his arms held her. She kept her eyes closed and remained silent.

"The chick's passed out," said Clayton, lowering her to the floor and letting her body collapse full length at his feet.

Ted laughed. "No matter," he said. "She's still got that cunt. Let's take her in turns. Hey…" He laughed again, more loudly. "Even better. You fuck her in front, and I'll cornhole her at the same time.

Real freaky."

"Crazy, man," said Clayton. "Come on, let's get with it."

She heard Donald's voice.

"Hey, no, man, that ain't right…" he began, and Ted's voice cut through the air like a pistol shot.

"Shut up!"

"I won't," said Donald. "She's a groovy girl, and that's no fair. Wait till she can fuck us proper. It ain't no fun fucking if she isn't with it."

Clayton chuckled and began undressing.

"She'll get with it once she feels my meat," he said. "You know I got the biggest meat in town."

Suzanne opened her eyes and stared terrified at the young men. Clayton had his shirt off and was just lowering his trousers, Ted's pants were off, and he was taking off his shirt. His sex was half-hard and swinging between his legs.

"Ah, she's gettin' with it," said Clayton. "I guess she was playin' possum."

"Oh, no," Suzanne breathed. "Please. Donald…" She looked at Donald, who was in the process of undressing. "Donald… help me!"

"Help you," laughed Ted. "He's gonna fuck you. Or have you fucked her already?"

"I… we did it once," Donald mumbled, and Suzanne knew that he was not altogether agreeing with his brother's attitude. "But take it easy with her. She's a nice girl."

Clayton's clothes were completely off, and he stood over Suzanne, waving his penis at her.

"Sure she's a nice girl, and all nice girls want some black cock up their pussy," he said. "Ever see one this big, little Miss Grosse Pointe?"

She stared fascinated at the organ, which slowly began rising to its full height. She knew that Ted's penis was big, but Clayton's exceeded his by at least two inches, and it was much thicker. She could hardly believe it, watching the dark brown shaft throb and expand in the colored boy's hand as he manipulated the foreskin up and down, exposing the dark purplish head, already sticky with lube that oozed from the large slit across the end. It was a frightening sight, and her eyes remained on his crotch, almost unable to believe what they saw.

"Please, please," she sobbed, and Clayton's laugh echoed round the room.

"She's pleading for it," be said. "Though mebbe that's not what she's really cryin' about."

He dropped to his knees, pulled her legs apart roughly, and crawled forward, lowering his penis until the end of it was touching her stomach, just above her bush. With his hand, he moved the shaft back and forth across her skin, leaving a wet trail of lube behind it.

"That feel good?" asked Clayton, chuckling evilly.

Suzanne looked over at Ted and Donald, who were standing, watching, and playing with their penises at the same time. Ted saw her and moved forward, dropping to his knees above her head, and lowering his prick towards her mouth.

"Suck, bitch, suck it good," he commanded, and she felt the end of it on her lips. Stubbornly she kept her mouth shut, and then she felt the sharp sting of his hand as it descended on her cheek. "I said, suck it, goddamn," he swore, and she opened her mouth and he pushed his prick into her. Again she tasted his flesh, hot and throbbing, and she closed her lips around the head, sucking hard, and flicking her tongue across the end, pushing into the slit and tasting the lube. "That's more like it," said Ted, easing himself into a better position to thrust his organ in and out of her mouth.

Clayton had continued rubbing his prick across her skin, all around her vaginal opening, down the inside of her thighs, and she felt her responses quickening, despite her terrible fear of him and the size of his penis. Her vagina began oozing its juices once more, and she felt herself wanting it, wanting to feel it slide into her the way Donald's had slid in just earlier that afternoon.

But Clayton was playing a teasing, waiting game. He was in no hurry to insert his organ; he preferred to play around, rub the end against her, up and down her legs, and over her stomach, even across her breasts.

She felt the end of it touching her nipples, exciting them and making them even harder than they were.

"Hey, Donald, you come here and suck her tits," Clayton said. "She's blowin' Ted. You can suck her tits, and I'll let her have this meat.

I'm gettin' ready to feel her cunt wrap itself around, provided it can take it, of course." He laughed coarsely again. Out of the corner of her eye Suzanne saw Donald scooting forward, squatting beside her, one hand on his penis, as he closed his mouth around her breast and began sucking her nipple, running his tongue across it quickly.

Then she felt her legs being jerked wide apart and the rough coarse skin of the Negro's thighs brush against her own soft white flesh as he positioned himself and then lowered his hips until the end of his penis was touching her vulva. His hands came forward and spread her lips. She heard him whisper, "Oh, wowee, I cain't fuck that. Not yet. Gotta eat a little first. Gotta taste that sweet white pussy."

His head descended, and she felt his thick lips and tongue push into her flesh and his tongue lick up and down her clitoris, sending quivers of delight through her loins. Up and down, in and out, all around, his tongue knew exactly what it was doing.

Suzanne suddenly felt a perverse desire to match her tongue movements with Clayton's, licking across Ted's penis in the same rhythm as the colored boy was licking her clitoris. The undeniable sensual titillation had engulfed her mind and body, and she gave herself over to the sensations which prickled across her skin and tingled from every nerve. She felt Donald's mouth licking her breasts while his hand manipulated his penis between his thighs; why let that cock go to waste? She reached out and pushed his own hand away, seizing the shaft and squeezing it. She heard him moan, and his tongue licked more furiously at her nipples. Her other hand pushed underneath Ted's buttocks and began caressing his anus. She heard him laugh, and then his voice broke the silence: "Yeah, baby, yeah!" And she sucked his penis with renewed vigor as she felt Clayton's mouth servicing her between her legs. Then suddenly Clayton raised up, and she looked over at him, just as he lowered his hips and she felt the end of his shaft enter her.

With a slow thrust, he pushed in, and she shuddered and gasped at the thickness of his prick. It felt like her body was being ripped in two.

On and on he pushed, inch by inch, until his entire organ was enclosed within her tight, quivering vagina. She gagged and pulled off Ted's prick and cried out. "Oh, God, take it out, take it out." They all laughed. "Go on, fuck her," Ted cried out, and Donald even joined in, urging Clayton to action.

"I sure will," the colored boy said, and began moving his hips, withdrawing his rod almost all the way out, then slamming it back in again with a force that almost drove the breath out of Suzanne's body.

She squirmed and cried out, and they all laughed. Faster and faster he went, and it felt like with every thrust his massive shaft grew thicker and bigger.

"You almost there?" asked Ted; and Clayton grunted in what sounded like an affirmative.

"Okay, we all come together," said Ted, grabbing Suzanne's head and pushing his penis into her mouth again. "Suck, bitch, and jerk off Donald. Let's all shoot into her."

Clayton's movements, together with his groaning and his hands around her buttocks, were almost more than Suzanne could bear. Her vagina felt numb, but deep inside her she still experienced the fantastic feelings that came from the harsh massage of her clitoris and the rubbing of the thick organ inside her vagina.

She sucked Ted's cock, feeling it flex and throb with each manipulation of her mouth and her tongue. In her hand Donald's penis was rock-hard, and he was moaning, his mouth biting on her nipples harder and harder.

Clayton suddenly cried out, and she felt his cock plunge deep into her.

He held it there, and she could feel the hot flood of his jism within her, running down and out of her crack. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he cried, and at that second, Ted pushed his shaft in until it jammed against the back of her throat, and she felt him spurt and tasted the hot salty come on her tongue. She gulped and swallowed, taking it all while her cunt enclosed the long, thick black meat within her, spurting its seed deep into her. Ted's penis began softening, and he pulled it out of her mouth and eased back on his buttocks, watching.

"You there yet?" he asked Donald, who was still moving his hips frantically.

"Almost," he gasped.

"Fuck her between the tits," shouted Ted, and Donald swung his legs across Suzanne, sitting on her stomach and pushing her breasts together around his penis just as it flexed and shot, the spurts of white liquid shooting across her chin and cheek and dripping down her neck. He groaned, and she heard Ted laugh. His hand came out and rubbed the come all over her mouth and nose.

"Taste it, smell it, you bitch," he said. "Good, huh?"

She almost gagged.

"Lick it off your lips, lick it!"

Almost in a dream, she put out her tongue and licked the thick salty cream off her lips, tasted it, and then swallowed.

Clayton was still inside her, his penis feeling just as hard and thick as it had before.

"You through?" Ted asked, and Clayton nodded.

"I'm through but I ain't finished," he said with a grin, "That was only the first time."

He went on moving his hips, and she felt his penis inside her, pressing her folds of flesh aside as it cruelly penetrated her. "I'm gonna fuck her dry," he said, laughing.

Donald climbed off and sat back, feeling his softening penis with his hand, while Clayton continued fucking her. Ted had his penis in his hand, playing with it.

"Go, man, go," Ted said. "Bet you can't come again in five minutes."

"You're on, feller," was the calm reply, and the black body flexed and the hips began pumping in and out. His lips came down around Suzanne's breasts, licking the nipples sensuously. She felt her vagina respond.

She knew nothing turned her on more than having her breasts sucked, and the way Clayton did it was the best ever. She twisted and turned, and then melded her movements with his until they were rocking back and forth on the floor, the sweat streaming off their bodies as the groins gripped together, joined cock-to-cunt, pushing them both towards another climax.

"Look at that black motherfucker," said Ted. "He sure can fuck."

On and on, and Suzanne found herself slipping away from reality. Her mind seemed to whirl, and as her hands went around the smooth black skin, holding him close, dragging his mouth down to her own, she felt consciousness fading. Just as Clayton's penis discharged into her for the second time, she went limp in his arms. He completed his climax and raised up, looking down at her. His eyes moved over to Ted and Donald.

"I done fucked her dry," he said, feeling his penis tenderly. "I'll bet her pussy's raw."

"She's fainted," said Donald, bending closer. "Is she all right?"

"Sure she is," snapped Ted, bending over Suzanne and slapping her cheeks. She mumbled and opened her eyes.

"See, she was jest takin' a rest," Clayton laughed. He moved away and stood up, "You shouldn't sleep, chicky-baby. We've got more fucking for you."

Suzanne moaned and closed her eyes, feeling that she was about to faint again.

"I'll wake her up," said Ted, standing up, and holding his penis so that it pointed to her face. A moment later, a stream of urine splashed down over her, and she shuddered, screamed and scrambled away across the floor, the loud, coarse laughter of the boys ringing in her ears.

"Get out, get out," she cried, collapsing on the floor, and sobbing into her hands. "Haven't you done enough?"

They began collecting their clothes and getting dressed.

"No, we ain't," said Clayton. "Ted was right. You're good pussy, and I aim to come back for some more. How 'bout you guys?"

"Sure, we'll be back," said Ted.

"When is you receiving?" asked Clayton with exaggerated politeness.

Suzanne stared up at him, her eyes filled with loathing.

"Get out," she spat.

Clayton laughed, and after they had dressed, they all moved to the door.

"Bye now," said Ted. "And remember, don't you try and say nothin' to no one. Now it's three against one, and who do you think they'll believe?"

Suzanne stared across. Ted's face was scowling at her; Clayton's held a superior look of amusement; only Donald seemed to have some semblance of compassion for her.

And then they were gone, leaving her alone and naked on the floor, her vagina throbbing and tender, her breasts scarred with teeth marks, and her neck aching and her mouth swollen. She climbed shakily to her feet and went into the bathroom. She looked at her face in the mirror and sat down on the edge of the bath, so filled with self-loathing and guilt that she hadn't the energy to cry.