Beastiality

The cold, winter rain beat a relentless tattoo against the glass panes
of the bedroom window, and Victoria Young shivered involuntarily
beneath the thick quilt covering her firm young body. The curvaceous
brunette drew it tighter around her chin, listening to the gurgle of
water in the roof drains, and wished her husband, Kirk, were home on
this afternoon of all afternoons.

It was New Year’s Eve.

But he wasn’t home, and he wouldn’t be home until six o’clock—it was
a little after three now. He was a physical education teacher at Valley
Glen College, and had the misfortune—or fortune, depending on whose
point of view was taken—to be a hundred miles away in Lakeland,
coaching the college’s freshman basketball team in the championship
game of the Holiday Classic Tournament.

It would be nice, she thought, if Kirk were here right now, lying with
me under this warm old quilt with his arms around me. Perhaps we could
even make love; yes, that would be nice—to make love with Kirk on
this cold New Year’s Eve afternoon.

She thought about her husband of less than a year, about his tall,
handsome body and his pleasantly freckled face topped with that funny
little shock of dark red hair. She thought about Ws quiet tenderness,
his concern when she was feeling low or under the weather, his self-
assurance about future prosperity, when his enormous talent was
realized and he was entrenched as Valley Glen’s head coach. He often
talked of the day when they could live in their own home, perhaps one
of the older but aesthetically appealing homes along faculty row or one
of the newer, more modem ones in the hills above the campus, instead of
this small and somewhat shabby guest house six miles north of the
college on a once prosperous citrus ranch now withering into obscurity
under the crush of exorbitant property taxes brought about by the greed
of the area’s land developers; when they would drive an elegant
Cadillac or Lincoln instead of the five year old Volkswagen they owned
at present; when they could have a couple of kids and take yearly
vacations to exotic ports of call such as the Virgin Islands.

And Vicki believed that all of these things would one day come true,
because she believed in Kirk. He was ambitious, and was willing to put
in long hours to achieve the goals he had set for himself and his
lovely raven-haired wife; Victoria, in turn, was just as willing to
sacrifice such things as companionship on a regular basis and luxuries,
both personal and household.

Still, Vicki thought, there were times when she wished that such
sacrifices did not have to be made—times like now. She had begun to
picture her husband’s strong body as it looked when he was naked, and
the mental image caused little tingling sensations to race along her
flesh. He had such a magnificently muscled body, with little curling
red hairs and a flat, hard stomach that curved into a thickly thatched
mound of dark red pubic hair. And his penis—so long and hard,
trembling like a leashed animal when he was aroused, its head so thick
and reddened and secreting warm white seminal fluid …

Vicki flushed a bright crimson at the thought of her husband’s huge
sexual member. God, it was so big it frightened her at times; she
remembered her anguished cry on her wedding night, the thought that it
would split her apart. Her fears had been groundless, of course, since
she had been able to take all of it inside her—and quite comfortably,
too, after the first initial pain of her broken maidenhood. Kirk had
been gentle with her on their honeymoon, and she had found herself able
to respond to his lovemaking very quickly, to even achieve an orgasm
once in awhile. Her mother had once told her that most women never
reach a climax in marriage, and she considered herself a lucky and
blessed person to be able to cum with her husband perhaps once every
four or five times they made love.

Lying there on their big, brass-framed double bed, beneath the heavy
quilt, the voluptuous brunette knew that this afternoon was one of
those times that she could—surely would—reach orgasm with her
husband. But Kirk wasn’t here. She couldn’t have sex. She couldn’t have
an orgasm …

Now relax, she told herself, he’ll be home at six and you can make love
then. The party at Dr. Kaye’s isn’t until nine, and that will be plenty
of time—six to nine—to do it. Oh, but damn it, I can’t seem to get
the picture of that wonderfully hard penis of his out of my mind … I
can almost feel it inside my vagina right now, moving in and out while
he kisses my breasts and puts his tongue in my mouth …

“Now stop that!” Vicki reprimanded herself. Think about something else,
for heaven’s sake; it’s not going to do you any good to get yourself
all worked up like this and not be able to have release. Think about
the party tonight; think about Doctor Eric Kaye.

Victoria smiled to herself as she pictured the salt and pepper haired,
distinguished looking psychology professor for whom she worked as a
personal assistant. He was extremely good-looking, polite and well-
mannered, and a privilege to work for; she considered herself extremely
lucky to have been chosen over a number of other applicants four months
previously. There were times when she wondered why he had selected her
over some of the other girls who had applied—oh, she had all the
necessary qualifications, of course; she had been to college, which was
where she had met Kirk, and she had excellent grades and references—
but still, some of the other girls had been equally well-qualified.
Well, perhaps she had impressed him somehow during their personal
interview, and that was why she got the job.

Vicki had to admit Eric Kaye was an extremely attractive man, one whom
she would definitely have been inclined to fall for if she wasn’t
already married. He had a smile which could melt butter—that had been
one of her mother’s favorite expressions—and he made you feel very at
ease when you were around him. She had caught him casting an
appreciative glance her way a time or two which couldn’t be considered
of the strictly impersonal type, and she supposed he found her
attractive too. But he had always been the perfect gentleman—had
never so much as intimated a pass at her much less made an actual
overture.

That was the reason she had eagerly accepted his invitation two days
ago to have her and Kirk spend New Year’s Eve with he and his wife,
Christine, at the secluded home in the hills above Glenview. They had
decided on a quiet evening, he had said, and since Vicki had mentioned
to him that she and her husband hadn’t anything planned for the
occasion, why shouldn’t they spend it together? They could have a
couple of drinks, talk shop, and get to know one another socially.

Kirk had thought the invitation a godsend when she had told him about
it, and had accepted at once. He had told her that an evening with Dr.
Kaye—who was one of the most respected researchers and lecturers in
the field of behavioral science in the whole state—was to be
considered not only an honor, but a potentially valuable asset to his
own career. When you labeled such men as Dr. Kaye among your personal
friends, you had one foot in the door already to tenure in one’s chosen
field. There were few administrative committees of which Dr. Kaye was
not a respected and influential member, including the Faculty
Appointment Committee, that illustrious group of individuals that held
in their weighty hands the fate of all faculty appointments, be it
Chairman of the Department of Physical Sciences … or head coach.
Vicki couldn’t remember Kirk having been happier over something since
she had told him she was going to work for Dr. Kaye those four months
previous.

It promised to be a fine evening if Eric Kaye entertained as well as he
performed the duties of his profession—and Vicki was certain that he
would. She was looking forward to it immensely. Who wanted to go out to
a nightclub or a boisterous house party on New Year’s Eve, anyway?
Crowds, a lot of noise and too much drinking, not to mention amorous
inebriates who had but one thing on their minds and didn’t care whose
wife they fondled at the stroke of midnight. No, she didn’t want any of
that this New Year’s Eve; she just wanted to be with her husband and
with someone like Eric Kaye whom she liked and admired and enjoyed
talking to.

The young dark-haired girl shivered again as the sky grew blight for a
brief instant with a zigzag flash of lightning, and a clap of thunder
rumbled outside the bedroom window. The rain hammered against the panes
as if demanding entrance. Vicki sighed, wishing she could fall asleep
and have the nap she had intended for herself when she’d come to bed.
But she was wide awake, and still thinking about Kirk, about him
nakedly lying there with her on the bed with his arms around her …

Once again, the mental image of his huge, warmly pulsating penis came
into her mind. She tried to dispel the lewd picture, but it refused to
go away this time; she kept seeing his thick shaft of virile flesh
vividly, as if she could reach out and touch it. The little tingling
sensations had increased now, and she could feel her nipples harden
beneath the old housecoat she wore over her brassiere and panties.

Now this is silly, she chided herself primly. Stop it this instant,
Victoria Young! You’re twenty-three years old and too big to indulge in
sex fantasies, for goodness sake!

But the vision of Kirk’s long hard cock remained in her mind. And it
was joined now by another image, a scene from her pre-marriage days
when she and Kirk were just engaged. Lying there, she remembered the
occurrence clearly, very clearly and graphically …

It had been a hot night in early July, and they had just come from a
small dinner party at the home of Kirk’s parents in Santa Rosa, over a
hundred miles north of the college both were attending at that time.
The dinner had been given in honor of the soon-to-be-wed couple, and
both their parents—as well as a select group of their respective
relatives—had been present. There had been several bottles of
California vintage champagne consumed during the course of the evening,
and she and Kirk had had their share—and then some. They had departed
shortly before midnight for the drive back to the campus.

She had sat very close to Kirk on the drive, feeling closer to him
mentally than she ever had before. She even put her hand on his leg,
stroking it gently but without any real sexual connotation. When they
approached Stinson Beach, Kirk suggested they stop and park awhile on a
remote section of the highway overlooking the dark, restlessly stirring
ocean. Vicki, feeling the effects of the champagne, didn’t object; she
was in a responsive mood, and the idea of parking with her betrothed
for a little light pre-marital kissing and petting did not seem in the
least wrong to her.

Kirk put his arms around her and drew her tight against him the moment
the car was stopped and the headlights switched off. He kissed her
then, their mouths fusing with the ease of lovers, and she opened her
lips almost eagerly to accept his probing tongue. Their tongues met and
tasted one another, exchanging a lover’s kiss. Kirk’s hands were
restless on her back and shoulders, moving back and forth, up and down,
around and over her low-cut white silk dress. Vicki felt an almost
overpowering surge of desire at the nearness, the intoxicating male
odor of the man she loved; his kisses were eliciting a full and total
response inside the bride-to-be, and when his moving hands gradually
worked their way around to lightly cup her firm full breasts, she made
no effort to stop him from doing so. Her mother had warned her against
allowing Kirk to become too familiar before their wedding night, but
the closeness she felt for him at that moment transcended all the
parental warnings and instilled taboos.

He began to caress her lushly ripened breasts in earnest then, as his
eager tongue probed in and out of her opened mouth. God, his gentle
touch felt so good on her! She wrapped her hands in his hair, kissing
him even more passionately, and then his fingers had dipped inside the
low-cut front of her dress to slide inside her brassiere. The contact
of his hand on her naked flesh thrilled Vicki beyond recall, and before
she knew it, she was allowing him to unbutton the back of her dress and
slip the garment down over her shoulders. His deft fingers found the
catches on her brassiere, unsnapped them, and she felt a cool rush of
air against her now-erect nipples as her firm white breasts were fully
exposed to Kirk’s hungry gaze.

He began to stroke her naked young breasts gently with his palms,
rolling his hands over her perfectly-formed voluptuous mounds before
bringing them up to massage the hardened nipples. Taking the taut,
dark-brown buds between thumb and forefinger, he tweaked them into a
quivering rigidity. Vicki moaned with increasing fervor as Kirk’s
caresses wrung soft cries of delight from her throat; little shivers of
arousal began to course through her, and she had felt a warm wetness up
between her legs seeping from her excitedly throbbing cunt.

Even when Kirk’s head dipped down and his wetly heated lips encircled
one of her erect little nipples, tongue swirling round and round the
goose-bumped areola, Vicki didn’t feel any panic. Even though this was
the first time she had bared her breasts to a man, or had their
nakedness kissed, the thought never entered her mind that what she was
doing might lead to uncontrollable passion. The young brunette was with
the man she loved, and she felt safe, felt warm and somewhat drowsy,
and very excited as his gently sucking mouth moved like a hungry
child’s on her soft, pliant breasts.

But then, suddenly, one of Kirk’s hands left her ripely quivering
breast and moved down to stroke her thighs where the hem of her dress
had slipped up. His fingers hungrily traversed the silky soft skin of
her inner thighs, then moved upward, sliding the dress still higher
until the tips of his searching fingers were resting on her warmly
moistened vaginal mound and the white silk of her panties were
glistening in the pale moonlight which shone in through the car’s
windshield. Only then did Vicki feel the first stirrings of panic for
Kirk had groaned and clamped his lips hard around her rigid nipple
while his other hand squeezed and kneaded the resilient flesh of her
naked young breast. The squirming young brunette felt confused,
uncertain; she wanted to be rid of his moist warm mouth on her bosom,
his lusting touch on her bare flesh—and yet she didn’t want to be
free of it. For a moment, she was undecided, and that was time enough
for Kirk to bunch her dress at her waist and begin caressing the
smooth, flat plane of her exposed belly.

His fingers had slipped inside the elastic waistband of her panties
almost before Vicki realized what was happening, and suddenly he was
tugging the flimsy material down, down over her pubic area, sliding her
panties from under her nakedly quivering buttocks. The moist heat of
his palm pressed against her hair-covered pussy mound, and rippling
waves of erotic pleasure threatened to blank the young girl’s mind
completely of the consequences of his actions. Gently, he insinuated
his outstretched middle finger into the soft warm virginal slit up
between her thighs, parting her moistly sensitive cunt lips and probing
at the thin hymeneal membrane which gave mute testimony to her
unsullied reputation. Meanwhile he was using his thumb to tweak the
sensitive nub of her clitoris, teasing over it again and again and
causing a sharp cry of commingled fear and intense pleasure to bubble
out of her throat. Her hands in his hair tightened, pulling his head
down harder against her breasts even as her voice was repudiating her
actions by moaning, “No, no, no, no!” over and over,

A whispering, unmistakable sound had filled the car at that moment—
the sound of a zipper being pulled hurriedly down as Kirk’s hand left
her breast momentarily. Her eyes fluttered open in alarm and, in the
moonlight, she saw for the first time an erect male organ quivering in
all its awesome passion. Abruptly, the fear routed her lust so that
there was no longer a struggle going on inside her; the sight of his
menacing blood-filled cock decided matters for the terrified young
brunette. She had to stop him, stop him right now!

“No!” she cried, trying to twist away from him on the seat. “Kirk, for
God’s sake, don’t! We … we can’t … can’t do this! It’s wrong …
Kirk, we’re not married! It’s wrong!”

“Please, baby, please!” he mumbled, his voice thick with the lust that
was reflected in his dark eyes. His hand was stroking the full length
of his thick monstrous penis now, she could see that, and her efforts
to free herself became more panicky. Her aroused young fiancee was too
strong for her, however, and before she could escape she had been
forced back and down across the seat. It was then Vicki felt the smooth
hot head of his lust-thickened penis touch her thigh, and she jumped
from the electric contact of pulsating hardness against her fevered
skin. Groaning in his uncontrollable passion, Kirk began forcing her
now-tightly-closed legs apart, and the frantically squirming girl could
feel his great pulsating cock trembling like an impossibly large wedge
being driven into and splitting a tinder-dry log. As he rammed it
repeatedly against her partially opened thighs.

And then, as if in the throes of some consuming pain, Kirk put both of
his big hands on her nakedly quivering breasts, squeezing them
painfully before lowering his head and planting hot, moist kisses upon
the twin mounds, all the while murmuring like a madman, “Oh, oh, oh …
oh, God, Vicki … baby … oh, Jesus, baby, I’m going to cum … I
can’t help it, Vicki, baby, I’m going to cummmmmm!”

She felt his hotly throbbing penis begin to jerk out of control against
her soft white thighs, felt a hot jetting spurt splash against the
innocent folds of her pussy—another, and another, a whole series of
eruptions that flooded her vaginal area and thighs with sticky semen
that flowed down to pool on the car seat beneath her. Kirk had been
mewling and convulsively twitching above her, planting those hot,
liquid kisses on her still quivering breasts as his seed emptied out of
his wildly ejaculating cock onto her naked flesh while she tried to
force him off of her …

Well, that had been the beginning, she thought, as she now lay beneath
the quilt on the bed she shared with Kirk. Abruptly, Vicki found
herself filled with the same kind of tingling arousal she had felt on
that night. Her mind was beginning to drift with the same kind of
mindless excitement, the same attitude of not caring about consequences
as her mind carried her on to further heights of sexual fantasy—to
the feel of Kirk’s warmly pulsing penis inside her vagina, to the touch
of his lips and hands on her naked flesh. She began to squirm in the
growing passion on the bed, and her wetly aroused vagina began to
secrete its liquid excitement, moistening her panties as it had that
night in the car. There was a tender aching up between her legs, and
the need for release of her ever-increasing passion was becoming
strong, too strong!

Involuntarily, the young dark-haired wife’s hands began to move down
along her tautly rippling belly. Knowing what was about to happen, she
forced them up, but they immediately went back down again as if they
had a will of their own. The inside of her mouth was dry, and she ran
her tongue over her lips several times in an effort to rid herself of
the and taste. Oh God why am I doing this to myself? she thought dimly.
Why am I getting so worked up?

But in that moment, she didn’t care what she was working herself up to-
–even though in a comer of her brain she knew the answer. Her hands
were moving sensuously around to her front now, moving across the full
firmness of her pliant young breasts. Gradually, she began opening and
closing her legs as she massaged her sensitive mounds of warm flesh,
the sound of the thrumming rain on the window seeming to consume her
very being. She watched, fascinated, her own fingers began plucking at
the buttons on the front of her housecoat, opening the garment all the
way down. Her hands traveled almost greedily up and down her body now,
over the brassiere-encased mounds of her breasts, down to her throbbing
pubic mound, across the smoothness of her taut little belly.

Vicki was a tall young woman, with long slender model’s legs and fully
rounded hips and breasts, and her hands seemed to be seeking knowledge
of every inch of her proportionately lovely flesh. She ran her nails
tantalizingly over the area up between her thighs, arching her long
limbs up and spreading them open to the delicious, forbidden delights
which her caresses were instilling within her body. Her mouth was
parted, and her brain was whirling with the heat of her growing lust;
she flailed her head from side to side on the pillow, her long, raven-
black hair swirling in a tangled cascade of shimmering loveliness. The
quilt was kicked off of her eagerly trembling body, as her hands
continued their mad pace up and down, down and around, teasing her now-
fevered flesh into even more intense arousal, her brain alive with lewd
thoughts of her husband’s long hard penis sawing in and out of her
wetly throbbing vagina …

Vicki arched her back, her hands moving behind and under her to quickly
unsnap the catches on her brassiere; she had to have her breasts free,
had to touch the rigid nipples without the encumbrance of clothing. She
pulled the brassiere off, tossed it to the floor beside the bed, and
her hands hungrily engulfed the soft warmth of her alabaster mounds.
Slowly, rhythmically, she began to roll the nipples back and forth,
squeezing them and then releasing them, squeezing, then releasing …

The entire time she was thinking: No, no, this is wrong, it’s evil …
it’s sick! I’m … I’m … yes, admit it, Victoria Young …
masturbating! Masturbating like a teenage girl after she’s read a spicy
novel … I’m a grown woman, married, with a husband … and yet I’m
lying here and playing with my own breasts … it’s perverted, but, oh,
God, it feels so good … so good …

Her tight hand left her nakedly quivering breast and moved slowly down
over her stomach to the elastic waistband of her panties. In spite of
her self-recrimination, her shame at what she was doing, she wasn’t
able to stop herself. There was only her urgency now, frantic need for
release from the ever-building whirlpools of passions inside her
shamelessly aroused body.

She was drawing her panties down now, drawing them sensuously over her
pubic mound while her other hand continued to stroke the nipple of one
breast. She raised up on the bed, pulling the thin wisp of a garment
down to her ankles, her eyes tightly shut, and then pulling them off
completely so that she was completely naked. She lay back again, one
hand on her breast, the other stroking first one thigh, then the other,
carefully avoiding for the moment the moist inferno of lust between her
legs. Then, when she could stand the pressure no longer, her eager hand
shot to the hotly pulsating folds of her pussy, and pressed against the
wet sensitive flesh there as she once again brought her legs up off the
bed and splayed them wide apart. Her tight little vaginal passage was
opened wide now as she gently eased her outstretched finger into her
wetly clasping pussy.

She imagined it was Kirk’s hand, his finger, touching her there,
stroking her down there. She imagined it was he who was now caressing
her hair-lined cuntal lips until they seemed to be swollen with blood
the way his long thick cock was swollen with blood, until her clitoris
was as hard as his cock was hard. She found her sensitive nerve bud
with the tip of her searching finger and began to tease it back and
forth, running the nail round the quivering tip until the delight
caused her to jackknife her legs back up against her chest, mashing her
breasts flat. Her buttocks, white moons of the softest, most flawless
flesh imaginable, jerked and twisted in complete wantonness under her
fingering, and the resulting erotic sensations caused the sweat to bead
and shine on her lust-grimacing face, matting her raven hair to her
scalp.

Oh, God, I wish Kirk was here! she groaned through the daze of passion
which controlled her brain. I wish Kirk was playing with my pussy … I
wish he was going to put his penis … oh, his lovely hard penis …
into my vagina and … fuck me, hard, harder until he came and I came
… oh God I want to cum so bad, so bad … Kirk, Kirk, I need you,
Kirk, I need youuuuuu!

Faster and faster and faster, Vicki’s finger fucked into her moistly
clasping cunt, deliberately teasing her clitoris and vaginal opening
until her orgasm was only moments away. Her hips thrashed and pounded
the bed beneath her, as her other hand squeezed and kneaded her nakedly
quivering breasts and nipples causing wave after wave of pain-pleasure
to ripple outward from her sensitive flesh. There was no guilt, no
shame for her in that frozen period of time; there was only the
wonderful, rapturous feelings of impending climax which were filling
her very soul.

Kirk, oh Kirk, please Kirkkkkkkk … ooooohhhhh God, pleaseeeeeeee …

Chapter 2

Slowly, as she reached for her release, an unwelcomed sound penetrated
the lustfully stimulated young wife’s brain: a knocking at the back
door … persistent … but … not demanding … yet! For a long
moment, the rapturously captivated Vicki did not move, couldn’t move in
the throes of her forbidden enchantment. But the knocking continued …
Oh God, just a minute more and I would have come! she thought wildly.

Damn! she cursed under her breath, then quickly grasped her robe as she
shivered maddeningly from the impassioned sensations still electrifying
her loins. Who the devil could it be?

“Vicki …? Oh, Vickiiiii …?” a throaty female voice called.

There’s no mistaking that voice; it was the landlady’s, Vicki thought
dejectedly as she slipped into the robe, hurriedly buttoned it and then
gave her hair several quick pats.

“Oh, there you are, honey,” the voice gushed as Vicki approached the
windowed kitchen door with a forced calm that belied the inner turmoil
she felt.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt you?” the older woman continued. Then, not
waiting to be invited in, she opened the door, paused to let her big
Doberman pinscher enter first and then boldly stepped in herself.

“No, that’s all right. I was just getting ready to bathe,” Vicki lied.

“Gee, honey, I’m sorry,” the woman said in a tone that clearly
indicated she really wasn’t. “I just had to come over as soon as I
found out,” she continued breathlessly as her eyes traveled up, and
then down, her tenant’s scantily clad body. “With Harold being gone, I
just knew you wouldn’t mind, and if I’ve told him once, I’ve told him a
hundred times that you and Kirk are the best tenants we’ve ever had,
always so thoughtful and considerate, and …”

“Mrs. Hatton! ” Vicki interjected firmly.

“Yes, my dear?”

“What is it you know I wouldn’t mind?” Vicki asked with a trace of
impatience that went unnoticed in the older woman.

“Wouldn’t mind? Wouldn’t mind? Oh, yes,” she said, her thought process
finally overtaking her runaway tongue. “I knew you wouldn’t mind taking
care of Fello,” she continued to gush excitedly, then smiled broadly at
her own cleverness at remembering. “He’s such a doll …” She smiled
again. “Really no trouble at all …” She glanced warmly at the big
friendly dog shaking profuse amounts of rain water on the recently
polished floor. “… and I really must leave tonight …” Her dark eyes
darted upwards again, searching the young woman’s for some sign of
acceptance. “… and it’s the only flight ’til two tomorrow afternoon
…” Her eyes dropped, quickly swept the room, then returned to
Vicki’s. “… and Bill doesn’t think Effie will last more than a couple
of days,” she concluded somewhat breathlessly.

Vicki remained motionless for a long moment digesting the flow of words
which over the months she had become accustomed to. Her eyes shifted
from her raincoat clad and dripping landlady to the dog who was still
busily shaking water all over her clean kitchen floor. Finally, she
lifted her glance again, studied those of the expectant woman, and
said:

“You want me to take care of Fello for you while you visit your sister
who is ill, is that it?”

“Oh, I knew you’d understand, dear,” the older woman enthused. “If I’ve
told Harold once, I’ve …”

“Mrs. Hatton!”

“… Yes, dear?”

“How long are you planning on being away?”

“Oh! I really wouldn’t know.” The landlady’s eyebrows arched upwards
and frown lines wrinkled her forehead beneath a mop of rain-matted dark
hair. After a moment her expression changed, registering satisfaction,
and as she ticked each item off with the forefinger of her right hand
touching in turn each of the upraised fingers of her left, she said:
“Let’s see, one day to get there, two or three days ’til the funeral, a
day or two to …”

“Mrs. Hatton!”

“… Yes, dear?”

“Why don’t you call me from your sister’s after you have appraised the
situation,” Vicki said, stepping forward to place a gentling hand on
the other woman and begin guiding her toward the door, “and let me know
then. In the meantime you can write me a list of the things I need to
know … the phone number where you’ll be, instructions for the care
and feeding of Fello and anything else you think is important.
Meanwhile, Fello can stay here with me and when your ready to leave you
can drop the list off. Okay?”

“Oh, I just knew you’d understand, dear,” Mrs. Hatton said happily as
she stodgily allowed Vicki to guide her to the door. “If I’ve told
Harold once …”

“Mrs. Hatton!”

“… Yes, dear?”

“You hurry on over to the house, and pack and write me that list. And
don’t worry about a thing. ”

“Oh, you’re so sweet. I knew you …

“And don’t worry about Fello,” Vicki interjected as she opened the
door.

Mrs. Hatton’s eyes flicked to the huge animal who was now sniffing at
the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink. “Now you be a good dog, Fello,”
she gushed sweetly. “You mind Vicki.”

Fello looked up momentarily, then resumed sniffing.

Vicki gave her landlady a convincing smile.

Mrs. Hatton’s eyes suddenly began to twinkle mischievously as she
backed through the doorway. She said:

“Thank you, dear. I’m sure Fello will be as much of a companion to you
as he is to me. You know, what with Harold being away so much of the
time and …”

“Mrs. Hatton!”

“… Yes, dear?”

“Good-bye!”

“Good-bye, dear.”

For several moments Vicki watched the retreating figure of her
landlady, then a soft whine from the big Doberman pincher behind her
interrupted her thoughts. She turned, frowned momentarily, then smiled
down at the handsome animal as he ambled toward her.

“What is it, Fello, baby?” she cooed softly. “Are you hungry, baby?”
she continued, lovingly stroking the mighty dog’s head.

The pleasing sound of the young woman’s soft, crooning voice together
with the gentle pressure of her small, stroking hand filled Fello with
warm-hearted relish. Instinctively, he raised his head and began
licking her hand to impart his growing attachment to her.

“Supposing we look in the fridge to see what we can find for you to
eat, handsome? I think there might even be a nice big steak bone
there.”

The intelligent animal whined, almost as if he knew what she were
saying, Vicki thought, as she embraced him against her leg and
continued stroking his head.

Fello whimpered softly, partially in awareness to her melodious voice
bestowing kindness and love, but even more because he had sensed in his
closeness against her, a poignant smell not unfamiliar to him, a heady
scent which immediately inspired trained responses inside his sleek,
muscular body—the human mating aura he had been skillfully educated
by his female owner to recognize …

Her mind still a conglomeration of mixed-veined thoughts, Vicki opened
the refrigerator and bent down to retrieve the steak bone from its
place on a lower shelf.

Behind the bent figure, Fello’s head abruptly nudged forward in
underneath the hem of the loose housecoat.

Vicki was frozen into immobility at the feel of the unmistakable cool
wetness of Fello’s nose high on the softness of her inner thigh! Why
she didn’t jerk upright in shock, fear, or at least, a smattering of
self-decorum, she could only lay to the prurient incitement which still
smoldered inside her loins. Instead, she continued to stoop there,
waiting, knowing that the big dog’s head was wedged up under her short
robe from behind, animalishly sniffing. And then, the hot unmistakable
lap of his long slippery tongue snaked up against her still moistened
vaginal lips!

Good God! He’s sensed my erotic state!

It had to be that! His searing tongue felt like a firebrand caressing
the swollen lips of her still feverishly throbbing pussy! Again, he
licked, and she hung there in her stooped-over position as he drew the
long wet length of his tongue undeniably between her partially spread
vaginal lips, licking along the entire hair-lined furrow.

Slowly, Vicki raised up … straightening. She held the bone in her
hand as she turned to gaze down in bewilderment at the handsome animal
who was staring up at her with brown eyes twinkling, ears erect, mouth
open, and bobbed tail wagging.

Then he growled, softly.

“Wh-What has Mrs. Hatton been teaching you, Fello, baby?” Vicki asked
incredulously.

The massive Doberman pinscher uttered another muted growl, and the
sensually intoxicated young wife wasn’t sure why … whether for the
bone she held, or because he sensed the rekindled passion up between
her trembling thighs!

Good God! I’ve got to get hold of myself! she thought as she held the
bone out to the attentive dog who accepted it willingly. “Now you be a
good dog,” she said aloud. Then, without warning, a shiver of lewd
excitement coursed the length of her body, and for a moment she shook
uncontrollably. When it had passed, she turned and made her way shakily
to the bedroom.

Once there, she flung herself across the rumpled bed and began to sob.
Her mind was a quagmire of troubled thoughts; her body had betrayed
her. Not once, but twice! What was happening to her? Why had she
relented to her own pleasure giving fingers? Why did Kirk have to be
away when she needed him so desperately? Why, why, why?

Finally, the crying subsided and the confused young wife rolled over,
fluffed up a pillow and then stretched full length on the bed, her head
pounding with the ache of emotional turmoil. She had always been a
logical thinker, but this sudden attack on her emotional stability had
left her frightened and confused. And in this state she refused to
accept the difficulty of examining her plight through cold, painful
logic. Instead, she surrendered mind and body to the refreshing comfort
of escapism, to the warm enveloping arms of deep, painless sleep.

And yet, although the agony of reality was, for the moment, effaced
from memory, her body, even in sleep, remained tense with desire.

Although sleep—deep, mind-rejuvenating sleep—came, with it rode
that swirling vortex of uninhibited thought known as subconscious. And
there, in the fragments of an instantaneous, unvoiced thought, in the
hazy mirage of dream, Vicki’s mind began playing tricks on her: giant,
transparent fingers fluttered incessantly like perpetually waving
whiffs of graceful, beckoning sea grass; an endless pack of howling
wolves chased a young, naked child across miles of searing, barren
plain; the child tripped and suddenly the lead wolf, snarling and wild-
eyed, was upon her …

* * *

… Strange sensations of tingling warmth rippled through Vicki’s
abdomen as she lay limply on her back, a maze of disconnected thought-
waves suddenly swirling through her head. Confusion swept through her
and she tried to move, but stopped at the sound of a low, animal-like
snarl. She opened her eyes then, yet continued to lie there unmoving,
the strange stirring sensations in her belly ever-increasing with a
weirdly rising excitement. Her sleep-drugged brain functioned slowly in
its effort to restore normalcy. W-Where was she …? It was dark …
yet through the open window across the room she could see a half-moon
and … and stars … wh-what had happened …?

Thunder filled the darkness of the room as simultaneously, further
charges of stimulating arousal raced through her loins and belly. Vicki
raised her hands to her throat in instinctive fear, then lifted herself
to her elbows to see what had awakened her. Then, by the flash of
revealing lightning, she saw that she was naked … wholly and
shamefully naked … saw that she was lying with her legs obscenely
spread apart … and … and Fello, her landlady’s massive Doberman
pinscher was standing between her thighs, his tongue laxly out and his
great head lowered just above … above her naked vagina!

Again, fire-filled sensations charged through the core of her desire-
stimulated body. The warm wet contact of his saliva-drenched tongue
spread open the sparse, hair-lined lips of her young cuntal crevice as
the dog began laving her sensitive inner-flesh with a taunting upsweep
that sent uncontrollable shivers of sudden passion bursting over her!
My God! He … he was licking her down there between her open thighs,
again!

The unbelievably lewd sight of what was happening, combined with the
realization that Fello was once again licking at her nakedly
defenseless pussy, was about to drive the dark-haired young wife
hysterical.

She gaped at him through the darkness which her eyes were growing
accustomed to, and saw his own burning orbs staring hotly at her
nakedness as he continued to obscenely lick and nuzzle at her exposed
vaginal lips. A tremor of incredulous sensations caused her to convulse
and she found her hips rising of their own accord.

Oh God, he-he was almost human … that expression in his unrelenting
eyes … and what he was doing to her nakedly betraying loins!

Oooohh … what he was doing to her! She’d never known such sensuous
feelings in her belly, and her wildly excited little pussy felt as if
there were a hot billowing fire glowing inside it! Even … even her
breasts tingled in lewd excitement, she realized, as she mentally
cupped, then pinched their tiny, hardened nipples … But … but this
was insane!

It had to be stopped!

Feebly, Vicki cried out, then attempted to scramble onto hands and
knees and blindly crawl away. Fello waited only long enough for her to
reach the all-fours position before unleashing a savage growl, stopping
the curvaceously naked young wife in icy-veined terror. She had heard
of cases where Doberman pinschers had tumed on their owners after years
of docility. Was this the case?

From that point, the huge dog never teemed to hesitate, but moved as if
his intentions had been pre-determined. He mounted her from behind, his
powerful forepaws clutching at the soft, white flesh of her youthfully
curved hips, his tongue hanging loosely from his open mouth!

Vicki dared not breathe! She was that terrified with his sudden clamber
up behind her unprotected nakedness, his strong, hairy forelegs
clutching at her narrow waist and the arch of her hips! Her firm young
breasts quivered and swayed in fright beneath her chest as the big
animal’s hind legs came in closer to her defenselessly upraised
buttocks. Then suddenly, she felt the coolness of the metal license tag
that hung from his collar grazing the smooth-fleshed hollow of her
naked back! He … he was going … going to do it to her … as if she
were nothing more than a … a whining bitch dog!

“N-no … no, please …!” Vicki heard herself whimper as something
long, wet, and pointed probed back between her nakedly raised ass-
cheeks and lewdly spread thighs. Her brain swam once more! My God, he
was going to do it to her … He was!

At that precise moment, whatever additional thoughts she had were
abruptly swept away when she sensed the tapered tip of his hardened
animal-penis prodding at the hair-lined opening of her moistly
pulsating vagina. Dear God, no … no! She desperately tried to squirm
away from the vise-like grip of his encircling paws, but it was
useless, and like a charging, white-hot lance, the solid thickness of
his long animal-cock spread her soft hair-fringed pussy lips and forced
its way up into her saliva-slackened little vaginal passage with a
slight wet popping sound, rippling the smoothly yielding vaginal walls
wide apart before its bevel-tipped hardness!

Vicki gasped for breath as the huge length of animal penis stretched
and then began slowly sliding up inside her young cuntal channel—
going in deeper and deeper until finally its pointed end smacked
against her sensitive cervix. Again, she choked out a whimpering gasp,
while the great beast who was mounting her from behind snarled out a
low commanding growl of triumph, then began to animalistically hump and
fuck up into her!

The young wife’s mind was a vortex of unheralded, emotional sensations!
Her head vibrated with the erotically pounding blood racing through her
brain, while her youthfully naked body that was bent in submission
before the massive dog quivered and convulsed in the throes of unknown,
sensuous agony. Her vaginal-passage felt as if it had been impaled with
the heavy, sawed-off limb of a young tree; yet, at the same time, there
were weird spasms of intensively rising desire filling her!
Nevertheless, she compulsively fought the sensuality, her sickened,
fear-filled mind concerned only with the horrifying animal fucking she
was receiving from behind!

Again, with a twisting lurch of her naked, youthful body, she tried to
shake free from the long, piercing thickness filling her tight young
pussy, but her efforts were in vain. Fello’s fierce growl chilled the
very marrow of her bones, while his powerful hairy forelegs clutched
possessively at her waist and hips! Thrusting! Thrusting! Like a
searing firebrand it slithered in and out of her wetly clasping cunt,
spreading the passage open wider and wider as he hammered his long hot
cock up between her trembling thighs! Oh God, she thought, oh God! I
can’t let this feet so good … I can’t. And then feeling her savage
arousal building, she moaned and rifted her impaled ass-cheeks higher.

The panting Fello’s sexually-stimulated intellect made the mighty dog
aware of the young girl’s sudden resignation and surrender before him.
Briefly and in desperation, she had struggled at one last frantic
attempt to escape before hopelessly subjecting herself before his
conquering attack. He sensed the final resistance draining from her
naked, human flesh, and a new hunger raced through his body. He watched
the upper portion of her smooth female back drop until her face and
naked breasts were flattened down against the bed, the rounded mounds
of her soft white buttocks raised submissively to his assault.

Then, through his unfathomably keen senses he felt his long, lust-
hardened penis slithering forward with easier strokes as her vaginal
lubricants began paving the way for his deeper penetration. Soon his
cock was entirely buried in the moist clutching heat of her female
passage, while his swollen, sperm-laden testicles were swinging down
and slapping hard against the soft dampness of her lightly curling
pussy hair. Mercilessly, then, he bucked and plunged into the warmly
yielding cuntal flesh, hearing her feminine moans and feeling the
trembling nakedness of her smooth, white buttocks flattening in a
universal hunger back up against his belly as he attempted to skewer
her onto the last remaining inch of his long scarlet rod of animal
flesh!

Though her young brain was still overwhelmed with the incredible
obscenity the suddenly-gone-berserk dog was committing on her helpless
body, Vicki could not ignore the sensual excitement his enormous animal
cock had set off inside her. At first, his savage thrust into her loins
had nearly blinded her with the excruciating agony of its huge hardness
bursting so unexpectedly into her. But now, the stark horror and shame
of the shocking animal-rape itself was forgotten, and only the
thrilling presence of the brute’s long thick cock fucking rhythmically
in and out of her hotly quivering vagina registered in her mind. As
Fello relentlessly continued to piston up into the liquid, wide-
stretched flesh between her lewdly upturned buttocks, sensations
equaling those which his hot laving tongue had first spread through her
trembling young belly returned, more intense than ever! Oh God, if she
were sinning by succumbing to him, let it be! Oh God … let it be …!

Now, as unthinkable as it was, the shamelessly aroused young wife had
begun to feel the texture of his sleek animal coat beneath his belly
brushing against her nakedly exposed buttocks, and she pressed her
tingling breasts harder into the bedspread, scraping her sensitive
little nipples against the satin material.

Her passion confused brain reeled with the unbelievable intoxication of
what was happening to her! She, a human, being attacked and actually
raped by a dog, as if she were a bitch-animal of his own kind! And yet
…

Never in her life had she felt so … so lust-filled … or even known
the lewd, wonderfully obscene sensation of wanting to be fucked …
fucked … fucked until she was almost dead from the joy of it!

“Oooohh … ooohhh … yes, yes … do it! F-fuck me, fuck me harder,
like that!” Vicki hissed with trembling lips, twisting her young face
to gape back and up at the panting beast whose long wet cock was sawing
in and out of her eagerly pulsating vagina. She was helplessly impaled
on his huge animal-penis and reveling in a newly discovered joy of its
unnatural possession of her desire-awakened young vagina.

A sensual moan of passion escaped her lust-contorted lips as she began
to move wantonly backwards, rhythmically gyrating her ass-cheeks to
meet Fello’s cunt-skewering thrusts. The dog’s forelegs clung to her
softly curved hips like strong, furry arms as she began to fuck back at
him, using the penis-gripping undulations of the female whore down
through the ages.

Though Vicki could hardly govern her awakened natural desires, her
intuition said that she was, in some weird way, winning the favor of
the vicious animal fucking up into her receptive young cunt. That
insane belief, and that alone, evaporated the terror and shame she had
known in the beginning. Only a youthful, all-consuming lust filled her
now as she rotated her nakedly rounded buttocks backward in answering
little circles to the beast’s long wet cock. Instinctively, she
realized that she had given herself fully to the erotic wonder of the
obscene animal fucking she was receiving from this whining Doberman
pinscher.

Fello knew and welcomed the hot, wet clasping of the kneeling female’s
vagina against his thrusting length of hardened maleness. The animal
had no way of knowing that the lower, more base instincts of the
human’s body had taken control at the precise moment her supposedly
superior mind fell into complacent Just. She was relying on an
instinctive knowledge—of male and female—older than either species.
It was natural; she couldn’t help it, he discerned as he fucked more
eagerly up between her nakedly quivering buttocks.

Vicki wished there was some way she could bend her head all the way
back up under her kneeling body and watch his enormous, pleasure-giving
dog-cock disappearing inside her wildly excited pussy! God, she was
little more than a deplorable bitch … but she’d never even imagined
such erotic bliss existed! Just to see his beautiful penis … see it
fucking in and out up inside her wetly throbbing cunt lips! She
visualized the lewd spectacle, the mere thought of their unnatural
coupling sending an alien excitement raging through her passionately
aroused young body. She groaned aloud in her all-consuming passion and
ground her softly yielding buttocks back hard against his strong,
mercilessly battering animal-flesh as she felt the tiny rivulets of
moisture flowing down the crevice between her rotating ass-cheeks.
Then, as the naked young wife felt the hot streams of liquid excitement
beginning to dribble down her inner thighs, she groaned loudly for the
sudden mounting pressure in her loins and belly signaled that she was
about to cum.

Fello rapidly fucked in and out of the slavishly kneeling woman, a wet
staccato of flesh-slapping sounds hollowly filling the dark open cellar
of her femininity, his keen animal-brain savoring a measure of
vengeance in Ws human rape of her helpless young body. His powerful,
hardened penis was ripping into her as if she were some ripe fruit,
destroying her chaste mind forever. Between each thrust, he felt her
tight vaginal passage swallowing his solid penile length, holding it
fast in the hot, hungry clutch of her eagerly working cuntal muscles.
Her smooth white body tensed and relaxed again and again beneath him as
she began an incessant moan. His great organ grew and hardened even
more when he felt the soft fleshy ridges inside her hotly contracting
belly giving way before his unsparing assault.

Again, she lewdly twisted her head to look back at him, and the
Doberman pinscher witnessed her mouth suddenly gasping open, but the
scream was half-choked in her slender young throat. Instead, she began
to toss her head wildly from side to side, her raven hair flailing like
a billowing black cloud of ember about her naked shoulders. She had
reached the beginning of a female orgasm, he perceived, when she began
to savagely swivel her rounded white buttocks back against him like all
rutting bitches. His tongue hung loosely from his panting mouth as he
fucked with heavy buttock flattening humps up between her furiously
undulating mounds of female-flesh. Once more, she moaned, this time,
her cry piercing the lonely darkness while she rammed deliriously back
onto his huge thrusting hardness as he drove it mercilessly forward to
begin spitting its hot wet semen in bullet-like spurts deep up into her
hungrily clasping cuntal passage!

The big dog felt her buttocks begin to contract and jerk back against
him. He felt the thick heated combination of their orgasmic release
seeping wetly out around the flushed lips of her rhythmically throbbing
pussy lips as her vaginal opening squeezed and pulled at his
ejaculating penis.

The dark-haired female fell forward then, away from him, tier legs
still spread wide apart, and in the light of the half-moon her rounded
white buttocks glistened wetly from his expended semen. He could see
her opened pink flesh and the soaked black hair of her ravished young
loins as silo panted in her obscenely spread position. Exultantly, he
stepped over her outstretched nakedness, raised his head, and howled
victoriously.

For long moments the satiated young wife lay sprawled face-down on her
own bed, breathing spasmodically as the ebb of her cumming washed over
her.

But, before long, the euphoria dissipated, and the full realization of
what had just happened filled her mind with self-loathing and abject
shame. Oh God, what had come over her? Was she … no better than those
night creatures you were always reading about in the newspapers? What,
all of a sudden, had caused her to submit to gratification in this evil
manner? Wasn’t the love-making of her husband, Kirk, enough to satisfy
her need any longer? Had some alchemy suddenly transformed her into a
… well, some kind of nymphomaniac who wasn’t able to control her
desires?

All of these questions had no immediate answers for the bewildered
young wife, and she moaned piteously in degradation on her lovely bed.
Her stomach was queasy now, a result of humiliation, and she felt
debilitated as hot tears began to flow from her eyes. After a few
moments she sprang off the bed and ran nakedly into the bathroom,
refusing to look at the now docile figure of Fello curled comfortably
at the foot of the bed.

What had come over him? He looked so natural, so harmless lying there.
Where had he learned such … such degrading practices! Had Mrs. Hatton
trained him for just that purpose? These, and a thousand other
questions burned in the young wife’s brain, as the shame of the lewd
act she had performed washed over her. Abruptly, she resolved to banish
the entire thing from her mind. Forever! She would never mention it!
She would forbid herself to think of it, to remember it. It was sick!
She was sick! She must seek help! And Kirk must never know. Never! And
to these ends the young wife applied herself.

She spent the better part of an hour under a hot shower spray in a vain
attempt to cleanse her body of imaginary impurities which seemed to
coat her skin like some malignant fungus.

And when Kirk Young arrived home, he found a very strange wife indeed;
a wife who was one minute loving and considerate, and the next
preoccupied and withdrawn. And he later encountered Fello and a
knowingly smirking Mrs. Hatton, and heard the explanation for the
former’s presence and the latter’s departure.

And finally, he experienced a growing apprehension about their
appearance that evening at the Kaye’s party …

Chapter 3

Kirk Young adjusted his tie and smoothed a hand along the side of his
carefully combed red hair, both gestures for the twentieth time since
he and Vicki had left their small bungalow to drive to the Kaye’s
Glenview Hills home shortly before nine that night. He felt nervous
excitement at the prospect of this evening with the eminent faculty
member. He had come into close contact with Dr. Kaye only once,
briefly, when he had picked Vicki up at work one night, and had been
impressed by the man’s bearing; one of these days, and in the not too
distant future, he would have that kind of stature—both physical and
professional.

Kirk looked at the lovely, raven-haired figure of his young wife as
they prepared to traverse the ribbon of concrete leading to the Kaye’s
expansive home. She wore a simple black shift which clung to her full,
ripened breasts and perfectly rounded buttocks; it ended just above her
knees—not too long, not too short; it accentuated the long litheness
of her beautiful legs. She had her hair down tonight, as he liked her
to wear it, strands of the long dark tresses curling around to frame
her face and rest on the upswell of her lush young bosom. She was a
vision in radiant beauty, Kirk thought. Yet, there was something
troubling her he could see it reflected in her soft, dark-brown eyes!

The young husband had sensed her inner unrest the moment he had come
home from the basketball tournament a little past six. She had seemed
withdrawn, ashamed about something. When he had asked her if anything
was wrong, she had told him it was nothing at all and averted her eyes.
He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what could have upset her
that way she wasn’t normally given to moods and periods of depression;
but then, one never knew what it was that was bothering women most of
the time, anyway. Probably some inconsequential matter that would, if
she relented to explain, seem patently silly as a basis for such
anguish.

He had thought for awhile after he’d come home that she was going to
remain moody and uncommunicative, but she had responded to his joking,
light banter and seemed to snap out of it somewhat. She was smiling now
as they approached the huge, multi-level home, but he could still
discern that indefinite troubled air about her. Well, at least she
wasn’t completely undemonstrative; a few drinks, and she’d come out of
it once and for all, become giggly the way she always did after the
second drink of any kind of liquor.

Kirk whistled softly under his breath as he escorted his voluptuous
young wife to the Kaye’s door. In the structure’s subtly lit alcove, he
spotted an ebony black door with polished gold knob and knocker. “Man,
this is what is vulgarly known as the creme de la creme,” he whispered
to Vicki. “We are consorting with members of the upper echelon tonight,
sweetheart; our future peers, if I may be so modest.”

“You may say so, sir,” Vicki said with an effort at a frivolous tone to
match that of Kirk’s. “It’s going to be a fun evening, isn’t it,
honey?” There was an almost plaintive hunger on that last sentence.

“That it is,” Kirk assured her. He put his arm around her shoulder
affectionately, then lifted the gold knocker. He let it fall, and the
sound echoed like a temple gong in the small alcove.

Almost immediately, the door was opened and the sanding face of Dr.
Eric Kaye looked out at them. He wore a gold lounging jacket with a
matching silk cravat, knife-creased black slacks, and doeskin loafers;
his salt and pepper hair was immaculately combed in a hair-do that
obviously had just been barbered. His smile widened as his bright gray
eyes roamed approvingly over his female assistant. “You look absolutely
the image of Aphrodite tonight, Vicki my dear,” he said with genuine
enthusiasm. “Positively gorgeous.”

The young brunette wife blushed appreciatively. “Why … thank you, Dr.
Kaye!”

Eric beamed at her and then turned to Kirk. They shook hands warmly.
“Good to see you again, my boy,” the suave professor said.

He took Vicki’s arm and ushered the two young people inside, shutting
the door behind him.

They were in a huge living room furnished in imported Danish modem with
tastefully chosen representations on the walls and indirect lighting to
accentuate the largeness of the area. There was a large red brick
fireplace, with a wide hearth stacked with cordwood and wrought iron
fixtures, that comprised more than half of one side wall. At the other
end was a large, oiled walnut bar with four stools in dark leather, its
surface covered with crystal decanters and glassware containing liquor
of every conceivable kind. The entire rear wall was a huge view window
with sliding glass doors that opened out onto a balcony that ran the
width of the structure. Blue drapes which matched the shag carpeting
had been drawn back, and the splendor of Glenview as seen through
winter rain was revealed to their eyes. The winking lights of the
college community were reflected in the silver droplets beading the
glass.

On a long, low couch near the center of the cavernous room sat a
strikingly beautiful woman in a shimmering silver lame gown that seemed
to Vicki to be scandalously short. She had long, silver-blonde hair and
a wide scarlet mouth, and her beauty was loud and sensual where Vicki’s
was quiet and somewhat virginal. She rose as the Youngs approached with
her husband, and smiled with those moist warm lips; the lame dress
rustling with husky whispers as she moved, clinging like a second skin
to her rich, high breasts and sharply defined, protruding buttocks.

Eric Kaye said, “Kirk and Vicki Young, I’d like you to meet my wife,
Christine. Christy, darling, meet Kirk and Vickie.”

Christine Kaye rubbed the palms of her hands along her sleek sides as
if she was a languorous cat. Vicki thought a little spitefully, I don’t
like her at all; she acts like she’s going to start purring any minute.
And look at the hungry expression on Kirk’s face … he’s captivated by
her! The brunette young wife wondered then if she were becoming
jealous, and decided that she was; not that she had any cause, of
course, it was only natural for men to be attracted to a woman who was
so obviously sensual. Don’t get your claws out, she cautioned herself;
this was to be a fun evening for Kirk’s sake … and yes, for my own
after the traumatic self-abuse I succumbed to this afternoon.

Vicki said, “How do you do, Mrs. Kaye? I’m very pleased to meet you.”

“And I, you,” Christy said in a husky contralto. She turned her
smoldering black eyes on Kirk and took his hand. “How sweet of you to
come tonight,” she cooed.

Kirk flushed slightly as her hand seemed to finger in his longer than
necessary. “Glad we came,” he managed, feeling somewhat at a loss for
words for the first time since his teens. This Christy Kaye was
probably the most sensually alluring woman he had ever seen outside of
a movie theater, and he found himself involuntarily wondering what it
would be like to take her to bed. God, she could probably fuck the ass
right off of you, he thought, and then blushed again at the lewdness of
the idea. No use in harboring a lot of crazy thoughts that weren’t
going to net him anything anyway.

Still, she was a damned fascinating woman …

Eric Kaye said, “Have a seat beside Christy on the couch. I’ll mix
drinks. Anyone want anything special?”

“Well,” Kirk answered, “a little brandy, if you have it. With soda! And
Vicki will have a vodka tonic. Is that all right, honey?”

“Fine,” Vicki smiled.

Kaye nodded and said, “Christy?”

“Another champagne cocktail, dear,” she breathed.

The smiling professor went to the walnut bar and began to mix the
drinks. As he did so, he allowed himself a secretive smile and let his
eyes undress Vicki Young; if things went as planned, he thought, this
was going to be a night he and Christy—and the Youngs—weren’t going
to forget for some time to come.

Neither Vicki nor Kirk noticed that he made both of their drinks
double-strength.

* * *

The evening progressed rapidly, and in spite of her initial dislike for
the silver-haired Christy Kaye, Vicki found herself developing a
certain camaraderie with the woman. The two men seemed to be getting
along famously, and Vicki found Christy to be surprisingly intelligent,
a somewhat paradoxical quality in a woman of her sensual physical
appearance. Soon they woe talking on topics ranging from a recipe for
real Italian veal scaloppini to the damage being wrought by
indiscriminate polluting of America’s rivers and lakes.

The first drink Dr. Kaye had given her had been a little strong for
Vicki’s liking, but she hadn’t wanted to seem immature or impolite—
and so she hadn’t said anything. She had drunk it slowly, and when
she’d finally finished it, he’d made her another that hadn’t seemed too
strong at all; probably just her imagination with the first one, she’d
mused, and proceeded to drink the second with a bit less caution as she
and Christy talked. When she was again finished, Eric Kaye dutifully
poured her a third Vodka and tonic.

Although she wasn’t really consciously aware of it, the amount of
liquor the young brunette wife was consuming began to have a marked
effect on her. Gradually, she experienced a physical relaxing of her
body; the tenseness evaporated, and she was completely relaxed by then,
happy and carefree once in the company of the man she loved and two
people with whom she was enjoying herself immensely.

Kirk, too, had noticed the strength of his brandy-soda when Kaye had
handed him that first drink, but he had considered it a result of the
doctor’s flare for being a gracious and liberal host. Besides, he liked
his drinks with a little kick in them—and he could hold his liquor
with the best of men when he drank, even though he didn’t indulge very
often. He felt completely at ease with Dr. Eric Kaye, and as the hour
of midnight—and the New Year—drew nigh, he found himself as
complacently secure as he had ever been in his life. The older
professor could be—he hoped was going to be—a valued and valuable
friend, furthering Kirk’s career both directly and indirectly; tonight
could be the beginning of a long and satisfactory relationship.

Vicki drained the last swallow of her third drink, and her professor
boss got to his feet immediately. “Another, my dear?” he asked.

“Well …” Vicki giggled reflexively, and then excused herself and
said, “yes—I think I will have another, Dr. Kaye.”

“Eric,” he insisted. “There’s no need for office formality here,
Vicki.”

“Then—yes, I’d love another drink, Eric.”

Christy looked at her watch. “It’s eleven-thirty,” she said. “Don’t you
think it’s time we opened some of that vintage champagne, baby?”

“Excellent idea,” Kaye enthused. “I have it on ice behind the bar.”

“Mmmmmm!” Vicki exclaimed. “I adore champagne!”

“Especially imported champagne,” Kirk said, grinning.

“This is quite good,” Christy told them. “I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure we will,” Vicki said, with a soft bubbling laugh. She was
beginning to feel slightly giddy, almost light-headed, from the three
Vodka tonics she’d consumed over the course of the evening; usually,
two drinks were her absolute limit.

Eric Kaye popped the cork on a gold-foil encased magnum he produced
from behind the walnut bar and poured four crystal champagne glasses
full of the bubbling golden liquid. The two couples drank a toast to
one another’s health and happiness for the coming year, and the doctor
refilled their glasses; another toast to Kirk’s success in the field of
coaching, and again Kaye poured.

They sipped two more glasses each, talking and laughing, until suddenly
Christy announced, “It’s two minutes till Midnight!”

Eric hurried to the bar, and from behind it produced some small party
hats and four long, wooden favors that unwind like a frog’s tongue when
someone blows into them. The laughing couples put on the hats as
Christy and Vicki began a loud and boisterous countdown by Christy’s
thin gold watch. Five-four-three-two-one …

“Happy New Year!”

“Happ … happy New Year!”

Vicki seemed to be floating on a pleasant, euphoric cloud, and she
realized fully for the first time that she was extremely drunk. It was
such a good feeling to be very drunk, she thought; why hadn’t she
gotten drunk more often if the feeling was this good? She felt strong
hands pulling her to her feet, and strong arms encircle her, and she
saw the smiling face of her husband before her eyes. She brought her
arms up and clung to Kirk’s neck as he kissed her, opening her mouth
eagerly to accept his tongue. She wantonly rubbed her breasts against
his chest, enjoying the feeling of sensuality which the liquor had sent
rippling through her body and the embrace of Kirk had magnified; she
could feel his penis, pressing against her abdomen, jerk slightly in
his pants, and she knew he was aroused by her passionate kiss.

But then a voice said close to her, “How about a kiss for your
employer, my dear?” Vicki and Kirk broke apart, and she giggled as she
saw Eric affect a mock pout at her ignoring of him; he seemed to be
feeling the effects of the evening’s liquor consumption as well.

She took a step forward, putting her hands boldly on his shoulders, and
said, “Of course, you can have a kiss, Eric!”

He gathered her into his arms, and his mouth closed over hers, lightly
at first and then more ardently as she responded to his expert
movements. His breath smells sweet and warm. even with the odor of
liquor on it, she thought numbly as she kissed him. And he really knows
how to kiss … his lips are so soft … oh I feel so wicked, letting
my boss kiss me this way with my husband standing right there, but
after all it is New Year’s Eve and there’s no harm that will come of it
…

Suddenly, Eric’s mouth pressured hers open wide and his tongue slipped
along her wetly parted lips, darted inside to meet hers. Vicki felt a
tremor of excitement course through her at such familiarity, and
instead of being angered or frightened, she was oddly responsive to his
invasion of her mouth. She clung to him almost as passionately as she
had clung to her husband moments earlier, and allowed his moistly
flicking tongue to fill her mouth for a long moment, swirling round and
round her own, before she drew back, giggling, to break the embrace …

As soon as his wife had begun kissing Eric Kaye, Kirk had immediately
turned toward the voluptuous Christy; what the hell? he thought with
the lack of inhibition the champagne and brandy had combined to bring
about, there wasn’t anything wrong with kissing a beautiful and
exciting temptress like Christy Kaye, not if her husband was standing
right there kissing his wife, now was there? Besides, he was feeling
pretty damned high—maybe he couldn’t hold the booze as well as he’d
thought, not that it mattered much one way or another—and just
looking at Christy during the evening had made him desirous of even so
little as a simple kiss. In fact, he had been secretly hoping that he
would have an opportunity such as this when midnight arrived; those
full sensuous lips of hers glistened invitingly, and she had the
damnedest habit of moistening them constantly with the tip of her
little pink tongue, making you want to taste them more and more each
time you looked at them.

Christy was smiling when he turned to her, and her eyes said that she
knew what he wanted to do and that it was all right. She opened her
arms to him, and he pressed in close to her, feeling the taut, hard-
nippled firmness of her breasts brand his chest hotly, even with the
silver lame gown and his suit between their bare flesh. Then his lips
were on hers, and her tongue flickered into his mouth to fuse with his,
teasing along the ridged roof and over his teeth.

Holy Christ! Kirk thought with surprise. She really knows how to
French-kiss! I’ll bet she’s something wild in the sack … I’ll bet she
lets Eric go down on her, and I’ll bet she goes down on him, too …
Christ, it must be nice to have a wife who’s really a happy slut in
bed, who isn’t afraid to experiment and try new positions, new ways …
Vicki’s a damned beautiful woman, and I love her, but all she wants is
Western style, no oral sex and no experimentation … she’s just static
when it comes to love-making … that goddamned old lady of hers was
the problem, all right, with all the moralistic crap about sex being
only for procreation and not to be enjoyed for its own sake …

Christy’s hot, probing tongue began to flash in and out of Kirk’s mouth
as if she was trying to rape him with it, and he felt his penis give an
involuntary leap of arousal. The silver blonde seemed to sense his
passion, and wantonly ground her pelvis tighter against his loins,
moving her hips in a lewd circular motion. Christ in heaven, what was
she doing? Kirk thought with liquored confusion. It was almost as if
she was trying to screw him standing up, right there with all their
clothes on! Hell, she dry-fucked better than Vicki actually made love,
and his eagerly throbbing cock was almost erect from her erotic
movements against him.

But then, abruptly, Christy withdrew her tongue from his mouth and
pulled back, smiling sultrily at him with her smoky eyes half-lidded.
She smoothed the lame gown with the palms of her hands, as she had done
earlier. Kirk released several short breaths, flushed guiltily at the
bulge along the light leg of his trousers and darted a look to see if
Vicki had noticed his excitement. But she was laughing merrily as Eric
put one of the little party hats on her head, and Kirk breathed a sigh
of relief. After a moment, his penis returned to its normal state, and
he tried to push the incident out of his mind. It couldn’t have meant
anything anyway, he told himself; but the way she’d turned on like that
meant Christy Kaye was sure to be ready for a screwing any time,
anywhere, and it probably didn’t take more than a pat on the fanny to
set her sex fires to burning.

They sang Auld Lang Syne, loudly and off-key, and then convulsed into
gales of laughter, blowing on the party favors and noisemakers which
Eric had produced just before midnight. Kaye poured them all more
champagne, and they continued to drink until Christy suggested they
dance.

Kirk and Vicki nodded enthusiastic approval of the idea, and Eric put a
mood music tape Gleason’s Music for Lovers—on a tape deck located in
an impressive bank of stereo components behind a sliding panel in one
wall. Vicki and Kirk danced together for awhile, as did Eric and
Christy, and then they changed partners; the changing seemed the most
natural thing in the world to Vicki, who rested her raven head against
Eric Kaye’s shoulder and allowed him to pull her close.

As they moved slowly on the azure carpet, Vicki thought drowsily: This
is one of the most wonderful evenings I’ve ever spent … so happy and
beautiful and perfect, being with the two closest men in my life—my
husband and my boss … oh I don’t want tonight to ever end …

Kirk’s thoughts as he held Christy tightly in the fold of his arms were
of a different nature. He tried to concentrate on the music, tried to
keep from dwelling on the warm softness of the provocative woman in his
embrace, but it was futile. His mind was filled with lewd thoughts of
Christy Kaye: How she would look and feel nakedly spread out beneath
him with the silver hair tangled in his fingers while he fucked into
the tightness of her cunt again and again. His restlessly stirring cock
ached with a growing lust, and it was rising again into half-erectness
from the contact of her abdomen beneath the silver gown.

He told himself again and again that such thoughts were wrong, that he
was somehow mentally cheating on his wife by even thinking them. He
knew his face and neck were flushed red, and he knew that his pulsating
penis could be felt by Christy; what was she thinking? he wondered.
Surely she knew what was on his mind, feeling his long thick cock
nudging against her loins. Was she secretly laughing at him? Or,
somehow, was she attracted to him? That could be it; else, why hadn’t
she pulled back at the feel of his hard-on? Jesus, what would she do if
he made a pass at her? Would she slap his face, or would she …?

His reverie was broken by the sound of his wife’s voice. Vicki said: “I
… I feel a little woozy, Eric. I think I’d better sit down.” She
giggled suddenly. “Think I’ve had a wee bit too much champagne …”

Concern crept into Kirk’s mind, momentarily overshadowing his salacious
thoughts. He watched as Eric led Vicki to the couch and seated her
there. Vicki leaned her head back against the cushions and closed her
eyes; her face was flushed from the combined effects of alcohol and
dancing.

Kirk went to his wife, unmindful that the bulge along his trouser leg
was readily apparent to the Kaye couple, unaware of the meaningful
looks the two exchanged. He sat beside Vicki and took her hand; damn,
he was feeling that champagne himself. The room seemed to have a haze
in it, dulling his vision somewhat, and the inside of his mouth was
dry.

He said: “Are you okay, honey? Do you want me to get you anything?”

“She’ll be all right,” Eric said. “She just needs to rest for a few
minutes.”

“Yes …” Vicki began. Then she giggled again, fluttering her eyes
open, and leaned up to kiss him hard, wetly. Unintentionally, Kirk felt
himself comparing her kiss with that of Christy Kaye’s; the older
blonde won hands down, and he told himself again to stop such thinking
before he did something he would be sorry for.

“I’ll be all right, honey, I’ll be … all right,” Vicki moaned, laying
her head back and closing her eyes again.

“Do you want to go home now?”

“Oh no! No, Kirk, I’m having such a good time …

Kirk felt a hand on his shoulder, and when he looked up Dr. Kaye smiled
disarmingly at him. “Give her a few minutes rest, Kirk my boy. She’s
fine, if I know women—and I think I do.” He grinned again.

Kirk stood up, and his own smile was lopsided. “Well,” he said, “I
guess you’re right.” He blinked his eyes rapidly a few times. “Whew!
Guess I’m feeling that champagne too.”

“Why don’t you go out onto the balcony and get some fresh air?” Christy
suggested. “It’s stopped raining.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” he agreed.

She stepped forward and took his arm. “Come on, Kirk,” she urged, and
led him toward the view window. She drew back one of the sliding doors
and ushered him onto the wet floor of the balcony.

The sudden rush of chill winter air sobered Kirk somewhat, and he went
to the railing and took several deep breaths. He stared out at the
lights of Glenview, spread out panoramically below him in the velvet
black background of the night. He sensed Christy coming up beside him,
felt her touch him with her body. Then he heard her say words which,
with a shock, sobered him almost completely.

She said, “Do you still have a hard-on, Kirk? Let me see if you do. Let
me see if that beautiful cock of yours is still hard.”

He turned abruptly, startled by her obscene remark. Her eyes lowered to
the front of his trousers, and she made a mock pout when she saw that
there was no longer a bulge present.

He said: “Christy, what …?”

“Now, now,” she said throatily, “let’s not fence, shall we? I know I
gave you a nice hard-on, when I was kissing you, and again when I was
dancing with you. Why do you think I was rubbing my pussy against the
big old cock of yours, Kirk?”

“I … I …” he faltered. “Jesus Christ!”

She laughed softly, sensually. “I know what you were thinking, you
know,” she told him confidently. “You were thinking that you’d like to
fuck me, weren’t you? You were thinking that you’d like to put that big
hard cock of yours in my cunt and fill me up with a great load of your
cum. Isn’t that right?”

Involuntarily, Kirk’s penis jumped once more into erection at the
continued lasciviousness of Eric Kaye’s voluptuous wife. It was
throbbing wildly in his pants, and his brain was reeling. Why was she
talking to him this way? he thought in confusion. What was the matter
with her? Was she even more over-sexed than he’d thought—some kind of
nympho or something? She must be crazy to come on to a man she’s only
just met this way, with her husband and his own wife less than twenty
feet away; didn’t she realize what could happen, making lewd
suggestions the way she was?

Christy leaned close to him and put her hand on his chest. She let it
remain there for a moment, before she moved it slowly down over his
stomach and began tantalizingly stroking the pulsating bulge.

“Well, Kirk?” she asked, her breath like hot flowing honey against his
cheek. “You haven’t answered me; you would like to fuck me, wouldn’t
you? Tell me how you’d like to fuck me.”

He didn’t know what to think, what to say. He wanted to turn and run
inside the house again, get away from something he wasn’t able to
understand and therefore wasn’t able to cope with, but he was rooted to
the spot. The pressure of her gently kneading fingers on his balls and
penis brought great swirling billows of heat rising upward through his
loins, and his testicles ached almost painfully with sexual need.

“My cunt is on fire, you know that don’t you, Kirk?” Christy whispered.
“My cunt is on fire for your big cock. Oh, and it is big, too, Kirk;
it’s even bigger and harder than I expected it would be!”

She was rhythmically stroking his lust-swollen cock and balls now
through his trousers, moving closer to him so that the tips of her
fully rounded breasts touched his cheek; her tongue came out like a
molten fire-brand and traced a quick, liquid path down over his jawline
and then back up over his lips before she drew her head back again.

“I want you to fuck me, Kirk,” she breathed in her sensuous voice. “I
want you to fuck me, and I want to fuck you. Fuck, fuck, fuck … Don’t
make me beg for it.”

Kirk was trembling almost uncontrollably, his mind awhirl with panic-
tinged thoughts. Never before had he been faced with a situation as
staggering as this one, and he simply couldn’t react. He could feel the
heat of lust rising still higher inside him from her ministrations,
from her lips and tongue, threatening to consume him completely. His
whole being was crying out for release.

“First I’ll suck you,” Christy said, and the licentious words tore
through Kirk like a hot knife. “First I’ll take your big cock in my
mouth and suck you. Maybe I’ll even suck you until you cum, until you
fill my mouth with your hot sticky semen. Then, later, we’ll fuck. Yes,
that’s exactly what I’m going to do. You’ll love it, darling!”

“No …” It was a strangled protest, but one that seemed even in his
ears to lack conviction. The heat was rising … No, no, no! his brain
warned, but it too lacked conviction. No, this is wrong, all wrong!
You’ve got to stop this now, before it’s too late! You’ve got to go
back inside, go back to where your wife is waiting, take Vicki home,
get out of here, don’t listen to her, don’t let her talk you into
anything. Jesus, Eric Kaye is right inside, a man I’ve always admired
and I’m out here with his wife’s hand playing with my nuts and my cock
… Jesus, what would Vicki say if she found out? I’m a happily married
man, for God’s sake, a happily married man with a promising career
ahead of me, and if I don’t put a stop to this bullshit right now I
could blow both my marriage and my career in one stupid moment of
weakness …

“No,” he said, again. “No, Christy, stop, please—”

“Yes,” she said, sensuously squeezing and stroking down between his
legs. “You want me to suck you off, don’t you, Kirk? You want me to
suck you and fuck you, suck you and fuck you, suck you and fuck you
…” Christy’s words were almost hypnotic in their chanting intensity,
and suddenly Kirk knew that he did want her to suck him and fuck him,
did want her and to hell with the consequences! Oh Jesus, Jesus, he had
to have her! Nothing mattered but the acute pleasure-pain in his groin-
–not his wife, not his career, nothing but this hot-blooded little
blonde bitch who was stroking and caressing him.

“Yes!” he hissed savagely. “Yes, goddamn it, yes, yes, yes! I want you
Christy, oh Christ, I want you to suck me and I want to fuck you!”

Christy laughed throatily—and released his cock and balls, stepping
back. “Come with me,” she commanded.

He stared at her, his temples pounding with the liquor and the passion
she had set to burning inside him. “But—where? God, your husband …
Vicki …”

“Don’t worry about them,” she said. She put out her hand. “Follow me,
Kirk. Come with Christy.”

It was as if she was commanding a little boy, and yet he was powerless
to do anything but obey. He stepped forward, mutely, and she took his
hand and led him across the wet balcony to a door set into the far
wall. As they passed by the view window, he could dimly see that Eric
Kaye was sitting beside Vicki on the couch, looking down at her, paying
no attention whatsoever to what was happening on the balcony.

Kirk’s heart was plunging wildly in his chest as Christy opened the
door and led him into a short, shag-carpeted hallway. At its far end
was another door, and she opened that, taking his hand and ushering him
inside. She followed him, closing the door behind her.

It was a bathroom.

Black and gold tile covered the floor and walls, and the fixtures were
of the same color scheme with polished gold faucets and trim. There was
a large inlaid mirror on one wall. “This is our private bath. It’s one
of my favorite rooms.”

Kirk stared about him open-mouthed. What was she going to do in here,
for Christ’s sake? The bathroom was huge, with plenty of open space,
but …

She seemed to sense his confusion, and she laughed huskily. “We’re
going to take a bath together, Kirk,” she said. “Won’t that be fun? You
and I together in the tub there.”

The idea somehow aroused Kirk to even more passionate heights. He and
Christy Kaye, bathing together while their respective spouses were in
another room nearby! The very lewd boldness of it was tremendously
exciting. Would she suck him off while they were in the bathtub? he
suddenly wondered. Jesus, he’d heard about getting a blow job while you
were taking a bath, but he’d never in his wildest dreams thought it
would happen to him. He’d only had one blow job in his life, and that
was from a town girl near the Army camp where he’d been stationed five
years ago.

Christy stepped forward to the sliding, frosted glass doors covering
the bathtub and drew them open. She closed the drain and turned on the
hot and cold water faucets; then straightening, she turned to Kirk
again.

And she began to take her silver lame gown off

His cock palpitated maddeningly as he watched the sultry silver blonde
reach behind her and draw the zipper down, then shrug out of the
garment. It fell slowly, like cascading, shimmering diamonds, and
puddled around her ankles to radiate in the overhead light. She was
clad in a French brassiere that did little to conceal her ripely
rounded breasts, and a pair of bikini panties that covered even less of
her beautiful buttocks. She spread her legs apart, and then slowly
reached behind her to unhook the brassiere, letting it fall to the
floor as well. Her naked young breasts bobbed into view, and Kirk
sucked in his breath at the sight of the proudly upraised mounds
jutting out from her chest, topped with rigid brown nipples in the
darker fields of her areolae.

Her hands stroked her sides as she moistened her lips provocatively,
never taking her eyes from Kirk’s face. Slowly, her hands slid down to
her hips, to the waistband of her panties. With that same tantalizing
slowness, she drew the flimsy little nylon triangle down, down over her
dark black pussy hair that contrasted startlingly with her white skin
and her silver blonde hair. Then the wet, petal-like lips of her hair-
lined cunt came into view, and again Kirk sucked in his breath; his
wildly burgeoning cock jumped, and he could feel seminal fluid ooze
from the glans opening.

Christy stepped out of her panties finally, and stood nakedly unashamed
before him. Her legs were long and tapered and her buttocks were satin-
smooth and dimpled enticingly. She stepped forward, still letting her
pink tongue flick over her lips.

“Do you like?” she asked in a teasing, girlish voice. She cupped her
breasts. “Do you like my tits? Are they big enough for you?”

“Yes! Oh God, yes!”

“And my cunt?” Her hands dipped lower, framing the ebony triangle as if
it were some work of art. “Do you like my cunt, Kirk?”

“Oh Jesus, I love it! I love it!”

Christy laughed appreciatively. “Get naked, honey,” she told him. “Get
naked so I can see that big beautiful cock of yours.”

Kirk hesitated, as guilt once more seized hold of him. No, he thought,
God no, I can’t do this, I can’t! It’s … it’s insane! How can I take
a bath with this woman, have her suck my cock, fuck her, how can I do
that with my wife in the same house, with her husband in the same
house? It’s crazy, like some dream … maybe it is a dream, maybe I’ll
wake up any minute now … but no, it’s real, all right, that cunt of
hers is real and those beautiful tits are real and my cock, so hard
it’s about ready to burst is real … Jesus, I want her, I want her!
I’ve got to have her … yes, that’s all that matters! I’ve got to have
her or I’ll go out of my mind!

Having made his decision, whether right or wrong, Kirk felt as if a
great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He blanked his mind to
all but the provocative woman who stood naked before him, to all but
the billowing heat of building cum that bloated his balls. Feverishly,
he tore at his clothes, throwing his suit coat onto the floor, tearing
his shirt and tie off, unbuckling his trousers and letting them fall.
He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks, shed his shorts and T-
shirt.

At last he, too, was naked. His long hard cock jutted out from his
hirsute loins like a huge, quivering standard, the head an angry
purplish red and sheened with his seminal fluid. His balls hung swollen
in their soft, swaying sac below, swinging lightly as his chest heaved
with excitement. His eyes were glassy.

Christy let out a soft sighing whistle of approval. “It’s everything I
thought it would be, Kirk,” she said. “It’s a beautiful cock, even more
beautiful than my husband’s. God, I’m going to give such a wonderful
cock everything it deserves; I’m going to lick it and suck it until I
milk every last drop of cum from those beautiful hairy balls of yours!”

A small, tortured cry erupted from Kirk’s throat, and he lunged
forward, gathering Christy in his arms, pressing his rigid shaft
against her belly. His hands roughly caressed her soft warm breasts,
kneading and squeezing them, rolling the turgid nipples between thumb
and forefinger. He was almost mindless with lust for her, making little
mewling sounds in his throat.

She moved to the medicine cabinet set on one wall, opened it, and
removed a large bottle. She took the bottle to the tub and emptied some
of its clear liquid into the rapidly-filling, king-size receptacle.
Dimly, Kirk saw that it was bubble bath, that shining colored bubbles
were forming on the steaming water which was emptying down from the
gold faucets.

Christy reached out and shut off the taps at last, and there was no
sound in the bathroom then except for his ragged, excited breathing.
She leaned forward, presenting her soft, velvet buttocks to his eyes,
and raised one leg to place her foot on the lip of the tub. Kirk’s
impatiently pulsating penis gave a convulsive leap as he saw the soft,
fluted lips of her cunt flower open before his eyes, saw the glistening
strands of curly black pubic hair that fringed the moist teasing slit.
Then she put one foot into the water, testing it, and stepped over into
the brimming, bubbled water. Slowly, tantalizingly, she sank down into
it, until the bubbles completely covered her voluptuous body, only her
silver head showing. her eyes lidded. “Come on in, honey,” she invited.
“It’s just fine in here.”

Kirk, his brain containing nothing in that moment but overwhelming
lust, needed no further urging. Trembling, his massively thickened cock
swaying in front of him, he joined her in the tub, sitting down
opposite her at the other end. His feet slid along the outside of her
legs as he settled down, his toes touched the satiny skin of her hips
and sides, the water was hot and sweet-smelling, and he could feel the
warmth send little ripples of pleasure along his groin.

Christy wiggled her toes, stretching forward, and he felt her toenails
tickle his balls deliciously. She giggled with delight as she saw the
purplish head of his cock shoot up like a periscope among the popping
bubbles. She raised up, so that her high, firm breasts floated like two
lovely balloons on the water, drawing her toes along the inside of his
thighs as she did so. She rose up onto her knees then, staring at him,
licking her sensually parted lips.

“Do you want me to suck you now?” she asked. “Do you want me to suck
your big hard cock now, Kirk?”

“Yes! Suck it, oh Jesus suck it, suck it!”

Christy lowered her head, and Kirk watched her mesmerically as she took
a mouthful of the hot, soapy water; little bubbles were in evidence
around her glistening mouth when she raised her head again, as if she
was a bitch dog with the froth, and the sight further increased the
passion which was seething inside his body. She eased forward,
positioning her head directly above the jutting head of his swollen
rod, and her hand slid through the warm water to grasp his cock at the
base, her little finger teasing his bloated scrotum below.

Breath burst from Kirk’s lungs in staccato explosions as he felt her
hand on his genitals. Her cheeks were puffed out from the soapy water
she was retaining there.

Then, like a striking snake, her head darted down and her lips came in
contact with the head of his cock, parted to take the lust-inflated
head between them. At the same time, she released the water which she
had been holding inside her mouth, and it cascaded like warm flowing
oil down over the length of his throbbing shaft.

A cry of wanton delight came from the very core of Kirk’s being, and
his hands came out of the bath water involuntarily to tangle themselves
in the silver blonde tresses of Christy’s head. He levered up as he did
so, driving more of his excitedly throbbing penis into the warm,
incredibly soft cavern of her mouth. The back of his head was resting
on the tub’s lip, and he could look down to see half of his thick
burgeoning manhood disappear into her ovalled red lips, see her lust-
contorted features as she allowed the shaft of hard pulsating flesh to
remain in her mouth without moving her lips on it, without touching it
with her tongue. Kirk’s testicles were boiling cauldrons of semen now,
and lie knew it wouldn’t be long before it would come spewing out of
his hardened pole like a flow of hot molten lava.

“Suck me!” he commanded down to the top of her head.

He tried to push her head down on his cock with his hands wrapped in
her now-wet silver hair, but she resisted, tickling his balls
maddeningly with her fingers. She pulled out of his grip to smile
teasingly up at him. “Do you like my mouth wrapped around your cock,
honey!”

“Yes! For Christ’s sake, suck me, Christy!

Once more her head dipped, and her tongue came out then to lick circles
of liquid fire around and around the head, flicking into the glans eye,
lapping up the excited pre-ejaculate seeped from there. His hands
tightened painfully in her hair, and he endeavored to bury his rigidly
erect penis inside her mouth again. But still she resisted, licking and
washing the head of his cock tantalizingly, twirling her tongue faster
and faster around the blood-swollen head.

She drew back once again, leaving his wildly jerking rod of flesh, and
lowered her head to the water another time. Again, her mouth filled
with the hot, soapy liquid—and again, she bobbed her head down over
his excited penis before taking the head between her lips carefully.

She began to suck him slowly, rhythmically, with the warm water still
held in her mouth.

“Oooooohhhhhhh!” Kirk moaned in rapturous passion, as the combined
sensations of Christy’s soft lips and tongue, and the hot water she was
gurgling around his cock, made him almost insane with desire. Never had
he imagined anything to be this good! Christ in heaven, how could a man
go through twenty-six years of life without ever having had anything as
good as this!

“MMMmmmmmmm!” Christy hummed as she washed his cock again and again
with the soapy water, bobbing her head up and down on his shaft. Kirk
was watching her slave on him, jerking his hips upward into her face
and driving her head down with hard thrusts of his hands in her hair,
and the sight was one so lewdly exciting that he began to chant to her
between bared teeth.

“Suck it, suck it, suck it, suck it!”

Christy’s tongue, with a nerve-tingling lap on the out-stroke, was like
a separate entity, a mad thing as she sucked him. Her mouth worked
hungrily, greedily, her concentration full and complete on the task she
was performing, swirling the hot water around and around his cock
without losing so much as a droplet of it from the cavern of her softly
ovalled mouth. Her breasts danced wildly, beating the water to a
bubbled froth, as her head pumped, as the soft wet skin of her lips
puckered outward and then back in again as she sawed her mouth the full
length of his hotly pulsating cock.

It won’t be long, he thought numbly, completely abandoned now to the
orgasmic mouth-fucking he was receiving, it won’t be long before I cum,
before I fill her mouth and her throat and her belly with my cum … it
won’t be long before I shoot a load like I’ve never shot before, before
I have an orgasm that’ll put all the ones I’ve had with Vicki to shame
… it won’t be long, it won’t be long now at all …

Chapter 4

Victoria felt a soft, cool hand stroke her forehead and her long raven
hair, and her eyes came open instantly. Her head lilted from the back
of the couch, and she could feel her heart hammering in her chest.

At first, she had a strange disembodied feeling; she didn’t know where
she was, even who she was. The room was unfamiliar, and the man sitting
next to her, stroking her, wasn’t her husband … but then she
recognized Dr. Eric Kaye her employer, and the room as his home—and
the evening’s events came back to her completely. It was all right; she
was safe. She leaned back against the cushions again, sighing, and then
winced as a little throbbing pain in back of her eyes made itself known
to her.

“I … fell asleep, didn’t I?” she said to Eric, a little sheepishly.

“That you did,” he told her, smiling. He moved back away from her
slightly, looking into her eyes. “How do you feel now?”

“Still a little woozy,” she confessed. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“Not long. About fifteen minutes.”

Vicki looked around the room, then frowned. “Where’s Kirk?”

Eric got to his feet, his expression sobering. Inside, though, he was
seething with anticipation of what he felt sure was about to happen.
The timing was perfect, he thought; Christy should have things well in
hand—more properly, he told himself with a mental grin, well in
mouth—by now. Christ, she’d had Kirk all but fetching sticks for her
when she’d led him off the balcony earlier. It was really a pleasure to
watch her work; she knew how to entice a man, that was for sure, and
she was the best fuck he’d ever had, although a few women he’d known
had come close. All things considered, Christy was the perfect wife for
him, and he the perfect husband for her. They both loved fucking more
than anything—yes, he had to admit he loved it even more than his
work—and their respective skills in acquiring new flesh for the fold
were perfectly harmonious. He was a damned lucky man.

Kaye held out his hand to the beautiful young woman on the couch, and
Vicki took it. He lifted her onto her feet, steadying her with his
other hand on her elbow. “There’s something I think you should see, my
dear,” he said.

“See?” she asked, confused. “But—where’s Kirk? And … where’s
Christy?”

“Come along, now,” Eric said soothingly, and steered her down a hallway
at the far end of the living room, opening a door off it. He groped on
the wall inside, and soft lighting cast an eerie illumination over the
previously darkened room.

Despite this supernatural gloom Vicki could see that it was a lavishly
furnished bedroom, with thick carpeting and a huge double bed. The
furnishings appeared to be of the same Danish modem style as the living
room furniture. She stopped just inside the door, looking befuddledly
about her.

“This … this is your bedroom,” she said inanely.

“Yes, that’s right,” Eric said in his soft voice. “Mine and Christy’s.”

“I … don’t understand, Eric. What …?”

“Come over here,” Kaye told her, motioning toward a slightly ajar door
set in the far wall. “I think you ought to see this, Vicki.”

Perplexedly, she followed the respected educator across the carpeted
floor to the door. There, adjacent to the door, were mounted numerous
switches, knobs, and Eric Kaye reached up to twist one of them,
bringing the previously soft strains of the Gleason orchestra into ear-
consuming loudness. Then, with a flick of his deft fingers on a second
switch, the room was plunged once again into murky darkness, the only
illumination a small ribbon of light permeating from the room beyond
the slightly ajar door. Vicki opened her mouth to complain about this
unexpected action, but her protest died unvoiced as he quickly opened
the door, once again illuminating the bedroom with an elongation of
brilliance. Instinctively, Kaye stepped forward, frowning deeply, and
then she could see into what was obviously a bathroom, black and gold
tiled with …

Vicki froze suddenly, froze in abject horror. Involuntarily, a small
cry burst from her throat and was immediately lost in music emanating
from speakers in both rooms. Vicki felt as if someone had kicked her in
the stomach; she couldn’t seem to find her breath, and she stood there
gasping, her eyes bulging wide with sheer disbelief.

What she saw was a rite as old as time itself being performed in a
large marble-lined bathtub directly before her eyes, not five feet
away. It was the perverted rite of fellatio, a disgusting practice
which Vicki had always held in abhorrence as being something which
prostitutes did for money and which sluts did for the satisfaction of
degenerate desires; something which pimps allowed upon their flesh, and
maladjusted men in dirty hotel rooms.

But the two participants in the tableau before her were not of this
ilk. They were Christy Kaye—and her husband, Kirk, the man she loved.
Christy was kneeling in the tub, amidst a thick coating of bubbles, her
head slaving up and down over Kirk’s groin, her lips sliding around his
huge, erect penis hungrily, as if it woe some obscene peppermint stick.
His hands were wrapped in her hair, urging her on to even faster
bobbings and lickings, and there was on his face a mask of pure and
mindless lust. His lips were pulled back over his teeth, spittle was
dribbling out onto his chin, and he had both his legs spread wide,
heels resting on the tub’s two lips on either side of the sucking
silver-blonde kneeling between them.

A strangled gasp escaped Vicki’s throat, a gasp of nightmarish
rejection of the sickening picture burning the retinas of her eyes. She
staggered backward, wanting to turn and flee, run, get out of there,
blot that terrible scene from her mind—but Eric caught hold of her,
restraining her, preventing her from taking her gaze from the wildly
jerking couple in the bubble bath.

Kaye smiled knowingly as he watched with admiration the way his wife’s
mouth and tongue were working around Kirk Young’s lust hardened cock.
Damn, but she could really give a blow job! His own cock leapt into
instant arousal, watching her, and the feel of Kirk’s young wife’s
soft, resilient flesh trembling under his hands sent little ripples of
heat flashing through his groin. “Well, what do you think of your
husband now, Vicki?”

“Oh my God!” Vicki wailed in undisguised misery. “Oh, my God, my God!”
She leaned back against Eric almost without realizing it, while her
mind fought to accept the reality of what she was seeing.

“Do you know what’s happening in there, Vicki?” Eric asked softly, his
voice almost hypnotic now. “That’s your husband and my wife, and
they’re making love—oral love, the best kind of love. Your husband
and my wife, Vicki …”

“No! God, no, no, no!” The words tore from Vicki’s throat in an almost
pleading tremolo, as if she was trying to convince herself that it
couldn’t be happening. Her brain seethed with tumbling, reeling
thoughts and emotions.

That’s Kirk, my Kirk, my husband … lying nude in a tub filled with
bubble bath with the … the bitch-whore wife of my employer. That’s
the man I promised to love, honor and obey, until death do us part …
lying in there with another woman’s mouth on his penis, letting her
kiss him there, obviously enjoying it the way his face is twisted like
some beast in heat, letting her do that to him while the woman he
supposedly loves, his wife—ME—is in the same house … oh, God, it
couldn’t be true, it couldn’t be happening … but it was! This sick,
foul, perverted, disgusting thing is happening, right before my eyes
… I’m watching my whole world collapse right in front of me,
everything I believed in, believed was good and clean and decent is
being soiled and made a mockery of before my very own eyes …!

Eric Kaye was holding her very tightly now, and she suddenly became
aware of a prodding against her buttocks and the pounding of the
doctor’s heart. She shuddered, trying to turn; did … Eric have an
erection from watching this? My God, was he aroused? How could that be?
That was his wife in there, wasn’t it? Just like that’s my husband …

As if sensing her thoughts, Eric moved his pelvis against her buttocks
lightly, and in her ear he whispered in the same mesmeric tone, “It’s
exciting to watch, isn’t it, my dear? It’s exciting to watch your
husband make love to someone else. It arouses your passions, doesn’t
it? It makes you want to make love yourself, doesn’t it, Vicki?”

“Nooooo!” she moaned. What was the matter with him? Had he taken leave
of his senses, acting this way, talking like that? She didn’t know Eric
Kaye at all, that was plainly evident; she didn’t know what kind of a
man he was deep inside at all. Why … why, it was almost as if he was
reveling in the sickness before their eyes … as if he had known all
along that it would happen, and was waiting expectantly for it …

“Look at the way Christy moves her mouth up and down on your husband’s
cock,” Kaye intoned behind her, his breath hot in her ear. “Look at the
way her mouth works on his penis, Vicki. That’s exciting, isn’t it? You
feel aroused watching it, don’t you?”

“No, it’s … evil, disgusting!” Vicki flung at him, struggling to
break free, but his grip was like iron on her. She felt anger rise in
her—not unreasoning anger that replaced the shocked horror which had
numbed her mind until then. The line between love and hate was a thin
one, and she had crossed over it the moment she’d seen what Kirk was
doing in that bathtub with Christy Kaye. She hated him now, no longer
loved him; she hated him enough to kill him! Yes, to kill him, to cut
off that offending member of his with a butcher knife and watch him
bleed to death! And she hated Eric Kaye, too, hated him almost as much
as she did Kirk, for he was a party to this animalistic depravity, she
knew that somehow …

She twisted and jerked in the educator’s grasp, but in vain. She was
breathing hard, her eyes locked on the tableau before her, watching
Christy Kaye’s undulating buttocks lashing the bubbled water in lewd
motion as she slavered her mouth up and down around Kirk’s long hard
cock. Her wet silvery hair was fanned out, floating in the water over
Kirk’s belly, and her tongue was lashing furiously around and around
the head of the cock in her mouth on the outstroke. There was the same
mindless lust, contorting her features as was contorting Kirk’s.

“Watch them, Vicki, Eric commanded hypnotically, holding her. “Watch
them, watch my wife suck your husband’s cock!”

His salacious words brought a gasp from Vicki, but even so, she found
herself obeying Kaye’s words. She was watching, watching with widening
eyes, and her struggles ceased despite the fact that the hot anger of
moments earlier, tempered somewhat now, still remained. The doctor
began to whisper more obscene remarks into her ear, and his hand moved
around under her breasts, the forearm raising them up as he held her.
He was telling her again how exciting it was to watch the perverted
lovemaking in the bathroom, how it gave vent to rising passions to see
other people doing it.

And suddenly, in spite of herself, Vicki became aroused.

She could feel her nipples harden beneath the black dress she wore,
beneath her brassiere; she could feet her vaginal juices begin to flow
as they had earlier when she had allowed her landlady’s dog to bring
her to climax. She tried to will the unwanted desire away, tried to
turn her eyes from the lascivious sight of Kirk and Christy, but she
could do neither. The passion was growing inside her now, for once
kindled, it was spread rapidly, like an inferno consuming her flesh,
causing her to tingle deliciously all over.

Eric, sensing her arousal, felt a glowing triumph. It was going to work
out just as he and Christy had planned! She was going to come across,
he felt sure of it now; he had been right in his appraisal of the
hidden depths of Vicki Young, and after four months of looking at her
five days a week and wanting her more and more each day, he was going
to have her! Soon, soon!

He renewed his whispers into her ear with more and more lewd words and
suggestions, and his hand moved up to cup one of her breasts, lightly
kneading it. Christ, but she had nice tits! She wasn’t protesting now,
either; she was watching Christy suck her husband off, and she wasn’t
fighting his advances. He pressed his erect cock tighter against her
buttocks, insinuating the hardened bulge into the soft yielding crevice
between her ass-cheeks.

“My wife and your husband, Vicki,” he breathed into her ear. “My wife
and your husband—fucking. That’s what they’re doing, you know.
Christy is mouth-fucking Kirk. Christy and Kirk, making love. So why
shouldn’t we make love, Vicki? Why shouldn’t you and I fuck? I want to
fuck you, Vicki. Vicki, I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you right
here, right now, while we watch your husband and my wife. I want to
fuck you standing up right here, Vicki!”

Vicki’s mind was still a seething turmoil of anger and hatred, made
irrational by the amount of liquor she had consumed on this evening,
but it was fast becoming swamped by her rising passion. Eric’s words
were taking their toll now. She could feel his hand on her breast, knew
she should take it away, stop him from touching her like that. She
could feel his penis, hard between the sensitive cheeks of her
buttocks, and she knew she should stop that, too. But the feelings they
evoked were pleasant, adding fuel to her excitement—and she didn’t
want to stop.

She wanted to …

She wanted to make love!

She wanted Eric Kaye to make love to her!

The sudden, overwhelming realization made Vicki’s head pound
rhythmically. Yes, that was what she wanted! She wanted him to do what
he was whispering in her ear … wanted him to … to FUCK her! She
wanted to be fucked! She wanted to punish Kirk for what he had done to
her, what he was doing to her right now by allowing Christy to suck him
like that! What better way than to make love to Christy’s husband!
Nothing else mattered right now, right at this moment. All that
mattered was getting back at Kirk, hurting him like he was hurting her-
–and the prurient desires which were raging in her flesh, demanding to
be satisfied …

“Vicki,” the doctor was whispering, “Vicki, I want to fuck you while we
stand here and watch your husband fucking my wife! Do you hear me,
Vicki? I want to fuck you while we …”

“Yes!” Vicki heard herself cry out. “Yes, Eric, yes, yessss! I want
you, Eric, I want you to … to fuck me!”

Kaye’s hand squeezed her breast harder, and his breath exploded into
her ear. Those were the words he had waited a long, long time to hear!
He cupped both her breasts, moving his pelvis tight behind her. “Right
here, right now,” he whispered.

“Yes! Yes, yes!”

“While we watch Christy sucking Kirk.”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“Lean forward and put your hands on the doorjambs so you can see,” he
commanded.

Vicki complied, past all caring now, wanting only release from the
floodtide of passion surging like combers on a stormy beach through her
being. She wanted him, wanted his penis inside her, wanted him, wanted
him, wanted to hurt Kirk.

Eric’s dexterous fingers were on the buttons of her dress now, snapping
them open one by one. Slowly, he drew the garment off her s